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ladyjanellySpecial thanks to Jellicle for not letting me ditch half this chapter.
Title: Re-cast (scar!verse) ch 10/?
Author: Ladyjanelly
Rating: PG
Characters: Jensen/Jared,
Summary: Jensen stopped acting in 2000. He still runs into Jared.
Warning: Men sexing men, AU.
Disclaimer: Never happened, not my boys.
Feedback: Is always appreciated-- praise, crit, all of it.
Chapter 10
Five hours of sleep is nowhere near enough, Jared decides when Jen's alarm goes off at nine. It’s a Sunday though, and he rolls over and snuggles down into his pillows as Jensen climbs out of bed and heads for the shower.
At nine-oh-five, the alarm on Jared’s cell phone starts its too-cheerful chiming and Jared remembers that he has a Plan for this morning. His fingers don’t want to cooperate on the tiny buttons but he manages to fumble the damn thing off.
Hopeful doggy-eyes stare up at him as he rubs the sleep off of his face. He stumbles to his feet and out to the kitchen. He can’t remember ever being as grateful as he feels when he sees that Jensen set the coffee maker timer the night before.
He’s got a plan, and he wants it to be good, special, and snoring halfway through it would be special in a bad way.
By the time Jensen's out of the shower, Jared’s sufficiently caffeinated to have a conversation. He’s making protein shakes for breakfast when Jen's arms slide around his waist. Jared smiles as Jensen nuzzles him good morning.
“You’re up early,” Jensen comments, “You been sleeping alright?”
Jared’s stomach clenches as he turns in the circle of his lover’s arms. This is it, the moment, and he’s more nervous than when he asked Jensen out to the fancy dinner. That was for fun. This is important.
“I was thinking, if you don’t mind,” he raises his gaze from the top button of Jensen's crisp grey shirt to his eyes, “We could go to church together.”
For a second, Jensen is shocked speechless, and he searches Jared’s face like he expects some explanation besides “Because I love you” to be written there.
Jared puts all the sincerity he has into his expression. He expects some token protest, some reason it’s a bad idea, but Jen thinks about it for a long second and then leans in, brushing a kiss at the corner of Jared’s mouth.
“You want that for you?” He’s strung so tight, and Jared wants to beat whoever made this good-hearted man so wary.
“I want it for us, to share this,” Jared answers, not hiding the truth in omissions. “I want to understand what it means to you.” The words spill out in nothing like the order he rehearsed. He hopes he doesn’t sound like a brat. “I want us to be a real couple in as many ways as we can.”
“Okay,” Jensen says, soft and less than certain, “If you’re--”
Jared cuts him off with another kiss. “I’m sure,” he says when he pulls away. “I want this.”
Jensen smiles and swats him on the ass. “Get some clothes on then. The dress code is pretty casual, but it ain’t that casual.”
“Five minutes,” Jared promises, and runs off to get dressed.
The building that Jensen stops the jeep in front of is pretty much what Jared expected--a converted home on the border between residential and commercial neighborhoods, white-painted with a simple sign in front.
“You ready?” Jensen asks, and it sounds a little like “Are you sure?”
“Let’s do this thing,” says Jared, and he tries not to feel like he’s embarking on a special ops mission.
Before they even make it to the door, Jared comes to the conclusion that Jensen knows everybody. They say hi to at least half a dozen couples in the parking lot--three gay, two lesbian and one apparently straight couple in their sixties. Jensen tells him that the last started coming with their son, and when he passed away they kept it as their home church.
Jensen introduces Jared as “Jared.” Not “My Boyfriend, Jared,” or “My friend, Jared,” and they still get knowing smiles and a congratulation or two. Jared’s never been around so many gay people. San Antonio has a scene, but he’d been too young then. After he hit Hollywood, he’d been too focused on his career, content with his girlfriends, and never had a reason to experiment. He thinks it’s sort of funny that his first exposure to queer culture is at his lover’s church.
Inside, the aisles are crowded with people talking, saying good morning, catching up on family news. Jared thinks of himself as pretty hard to shock, but there are more gay people in one place than he’s ever seen before, men who might be women, women who must be men. Two guys in their eighties are sitting in the front row of chairs, holding hands and smiling at each other like newly-weds.
It’s a little more weirdness than a boy from Texas is used to, but it’s good weird and it’s been good to Jensen. Jared’s thrilled to be there at his lover’s side.
“Hey.” Jensen bumps their shoulders together. “Ready to find a seat? It’s about to start.”
Jared grins and nods and follows Jensen to a folding wooden chair towards the back.
The service starts, and Jared knows it’s not respectful to be so distracted, but he sort of lets the words wash around him while he puts more energy into people-watching and especially Jensen-watching. There’s a part at the beginning where everybody gets up to say hi to whoever is around them. Jared hasn’t had so many honest-feeling hugs since the last time he was home.
Everybody sits then, and opens their hymnal. Jensen finds the page and sets the book half on his knee, half on Jared’s. Jensen's singing voice is soft and mellow, not as low as Jared would have expected. Watching, listening to, the gentle passion put into words, what Jared feels isn’t lust. It’s deeper and warmer and he feels right, complete.
Jared isn’t really focusing on the words of the sermon, just enough to catch the repeating message of unconditional love and support. Like a soft blanket, the meaning settles around him. He looks to Jensen and sees such peace on the other man’s features, such relief. He’s grateful, because he has a sudden, Sam-like intuition that without this place, the Jensen he knows and loves would have been lost somehow, broken and abandoned in the world.
Jared reaches and takes Jen's hand in his, closes his eyes and swears to yeah, God or whatever, that he’s not wasting this.
The church routine rolls along around them. Another song as the collection plate passes around. Jensen drops a folded check in the dish. Jared has a moment of panic; he doesn’t have a check on him and didn’t think to stop by an ATM.
“Hey,” Jensen murmurs, catching his mini-freak-out. “It’s not about that. Next time, if you want.”
The rows in front of them stand and file to the front by the altar. In singles, pairs and groups, they’re given wine-dipped wafers, the touch of a hand to the shoulder or head, and quiet words.
“Communion,” says Jensen. “We can go up together or separate, or you don’t have to go at all.”
Jared can tell Jensen isn’t putting it out there as a challenge or a test. The offer is open and honest.
“Together,” he says, and squeezes Jensen's fingers. “I’m sure. Final answer.”
It’s just communion, but walking up at Jensen's side, it feels like their first official act as a couple, like being together, not just dating and having sex.
The deacon, assistant pastor, whatever she is, that they get is an older woman. Her green eyes are warm and smiling as they step up.
“Is this--” she asks and Jen ducks his head, looking shy and thrilled at the same time.
“This is the one,” he says, his free hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. Jared grins and bumps his shoulder, tickled that Jen's talked about him, them, to his friends
The woman clears her throat, and Jared puts on his serious face. She breaks a wafer in half and dips it in red grape juice. She offers the first half to Jensen, and he opens his mouth to accept it. Jared does the same when it’s his turn. Heads bowed, they close their eyes as she places a hand on their shoulders.
“Thank you, Lord,” she says, “For bringing these two together and to this place today. Help them have the strength to overcome whatever adversity may come their way, to be true to themselves and each other. Help them to find the path to happiness and peace. Keep them and guide them, Amen.”
Jensen intones a soft “Amen” of his own, Jared a half-beat behind him. His eyes prickle when he opens them. He feels drained, stunned, and Jensen has to lead him back to their chairs.
He feels like such a big baby as he sits and hides his face against Jen's neck. He hadn’t known. Nobody told him. The rush of being loved and accepted on that scale overwhelms him and he doesn’t know how to take it.
People around them are standing to sing again, but Jen just sits and holds him, stroking his hair and whispering soft nonsense. The pastor speaks again, about “Go, in joy and love,” and Jared raises his head as people start to file past. Everyone that catches his gaze gives him a reassuring smile, and a woman a few rows ahead still hasn’t pulled herself together, so he tries to not be too embarrassed.
Getting out of church is slow. The path to the door is filled with goodbyes and handshakes. Jen gets hugged by no less than eight people and Jared four, including the pastor, a tall stick of a man that looks Jared right in the eye and says how good it is to meet him.
Jensen's blushing and grinning when they find sunlight again. Jared reaches out and cups his fingers along Jensen's jaw, thumb stroking over the bright line of the scar. He can’t help what comes next, can’t resist how Jensen freakin’ glows.
The kiss is shy and chaste, but it’s out in front of God and thirty people.
There’s a smattering of applause and a few good-natured cat-calls as they break apart.
“Sorry,” grins Jared, even though he’s so not. “Sorry.”
Jensen laughs and gives him a playful shove. They walk to the jeep hand in hand and only break apart for as long as it takes to get in.
Title: Re-cast (scar!verse) ch 10/?
Author: Ladyjanelly
Rating: PG
Characters: Jensen/Jared,
Summary: Jensen stopped acting in 2000. He still runs into Jared.
Warning: Men sexing men, AU.
Disclaimer: Never happened, not my boys.
Feedback: Is always appreciated-- praise, crit, all of it.
Chapter 10
Five hours of sleep is nowhere near enough, Jared decides when Jen's alarm goes off at nine. It’s a Sunday though, and he rolls over and snuggles down into his pillows as Jensen climbs out of bed and heads for the shower.
At nine-oh-five, the alarm on Jared’s cell phone starts its too-cheerful chiming and Jared remembers that he has a Plan for this morning. His fingers don’t want to cooperate on the tiny buttons but he manages to fumble the damn thing off.
Hopeful doggy-eyes stare up at him as he rubs the sleep off of his face. He stumbles to his feet and out to the kitchen. He can’t remember ever being as grateful as he feels when he sees that Jensen set the coffee maker timer the night before.
He’s got a plan, and he wants it to be good, special, and snoring halfway through it would be special in a bad way.
By the time Jensen's out of the shower, Jared’s sufficiently caffeinated to have a conversation. He’s making protein shakes for breakfast when Jen's arms slide around his waist. Jared smiles as Jensen nuzzles him good morning.
“You’re up early,” Jensen comments, “You been sleeping alright?”
Jared’s stomach clenches as he turns in the circle of his lover’s arms. This is it, the moment, and he’s more nervous than when he asked Jensen out to the fancy dinner. That was for fun. This is important.
“I was thinking, if you don’t mind,” he raises his gaze from the top button of Jensen's crisp grey shirt to his eyes, “We could go to church together.”
For a second, Jensen is shocked speechless, and he searches Jared’s face like he expects some explanation besides “Because I love you” to be written there.
Jared puts all the sincerity he has into his expression. He expects some token protest, some reason it’s a bad idea, but Jen thinks about it for a long second and then leans in, brushing a kiss at the corner of Jared’s mouth.
“You want that for you?” He’s strung so tight, and Jared wants to beat whoever made this good-hearted man so wary.
“I want it for us, to share this,” Jared answers, not hiding the truth in omissions. “I want to understand what it means to you.” The words spill out in nothing like the order he rehearsed. He hopes he doesn’t sound like a brat. “I want us to be a real couple in as many ways as we can.”
“Okay,” Jensen says, soft and less than certain, “If you’re--”
Jared cuts him off with another kiss. “I’m sure,” he says when he pulls away. “I want this.”
Jensen smiles and swats him on the ass. “Get some clothes on then. The dress code is pretty casual, but it ain’t that casual.”
“Five minutes,” Jared promises, and runs off to get dressed.
The building that Jensen stops the jeep in front of is pretty much what Jared expected--a converted home on the border between residential and commercial neighborhoods, white-painted with a simple sign in front.
“You ready?” Jensen asks, and it sounds a little like “Are you sure?”
“Let’s do this thing,” says Jared, and he tries not to feel like he’s embarking on a special ops mission.
Before they even make it to the door, Jared comes to the conclusion that Jensen knows everybody. They say hi to at least half a dozen couples in the parking lot--three gay, two lesbian and one apparently straight couple in their sixties. Jensen tells him that the last started coming with their son, and when he passed away they kept it as their home church.
Jensen introduces Jared as “Jared.” Not “My Boyfriend, Jared,” or “My friend, Jared,” and they still get knowing smiles and a congratulation or two. Jared’s never been around so many gay people. San Antonio has a scene, but he’d been too young then. After he hit Hollywood, he’d been too focused on his career, content with his girlfriends, and never had a reason to experiment. He thinks it’s sort of funny that his first exposure to queer culture is at his lover’s church.
Inside, the aisles are crowded with people talking, saying good morning, catching up on family news. Jared thinks of himself as pretty hard to shock, but there are more gay people in one place than he’s ever seen before, men who might be women, women who must be men. Two guys in their eighties are sitting in the front row of chairs, holding hands and smiling at each other like newly-weds.
It’s a little more weirdness than a boy from Texas is used to, but it’s good weird and it’s been good to Jensen. Jared’s thrilled to be there at his lover’s side.
“Hey.” Jensen bumps their shoulders together. “Ready to find a seat? It’s about to start.”
Jared grins and nods and follows Jensen to a folding wooden chair towards the back.
The service starts, and Jared knows it’s not respectful to be so distracted, but he sort of lets the words wash around him while he puts more energy into people-watching and especially Jensen-watching. There’s a part at the beginning where everybody gets up to say hi to whoever is around them. Jared hasn’t had so many honest-feeling hugs since the last time he was home.
Everybody sits then, and opens their hymnal. Jensen finds the page and sets the book half on his knee, half on Jared’s. Jensen's singing voice is soft and mellow, not as low as Jared would have expected. Watching, listening to, the gentle passion put into words, what Jared feels isn’t lust. It’s deeper and warmer and he feels right, complete.
Jared isn’t really focusing on the words of the sermon, just enough to catch the repeating message of unconditional love and support. Like a soft blanket, the meaning settles around him. He looks to Jensen and sees such peace on the other man’s features, such relief. He’s grateful, because he has a sudden, Sam-like intuition that without this place, the Jensen he knows and loves would have been lost somehow, broken and abandoned in the world.
Jared reaches and takes Jen's hand in his, closes his eyes and swears to yeah, God or whatever, that he’s not wasting this.
The church routine rolls along around them. Another song as the collection plate passes around. Jensen drops a folded check in the dish. Jared has a moment of panic; he doesn’t have a check on him and didn’t think to stop by an ATM.
“Hey,” Jensen murmurs, catching his mini-freak-out. “It’s not about that. Next time, if you want.”
The rows in front of them stand and file to the front by the altar. In singles, pairs and groups, they’re given wine-dipped wafers, the touch of a hand to the shoulder or head, and quiet words.
“Communion,” says Jensen. “We can go up together or separate, or you don’t have to go at all.”
Jared can tell Jensen isn’t putting it out there as a challenge or a test. The offer is open and honest.
“Together,” he says, and squeezes Jensen's fingers. “I’m sure. Final answer.”
It’s just communion, but walking up at Jensen's side, it feels like their first official act as a couple, like being together, not just dating and having sex.
The deacon, assistant pastor, whatever she is, that they get is an older woman. Her green eyes are warm and smiling as they step up.
“Is this--” she asks and Jen ducks his head, looking shy and thrilled at the same time.
“This is the one,” he says, his free hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. Jared grins and bumps his shoulder, tickled that Jen's talked about him, them, to his friends
The woman clears her throat, and Jared puts on his serious face. She breaks a wafer in half and dips it in red grape juice. She offers the first half to Jensen, and he opens his mouth to accept it. Jared does the same when it’s his turn. Heads bowed, they close their eyes as she places a hand on their shoulders.
“Thank you, Lord,” she says, “For bringing these two together and to this place today. Help them have the strength to overcome whatever adversity may come their way, to be true to themselves and each other. Help them to find the path to happiness and peace. Keep them and guide them, Amen.”
Jensen intones a soft “Amen” of his own, Jared a half-beat behind him. His eyes prickle when he opens them. He feels drained, stunned, and Jensen has to lead him back to their chairs.
He feels like such a big baby as he sits and hides his face against Jen's neck. He hadn’t known. Nobody told him. The rush of being loved and accepted on that scale overwhelms him and he doesn’t know how to take it.
People around them are standing to sing again, but Jen just sits and holds him, stroking his hair and whispering soft nonsense. The pastor speaks again, about “Go, in joy and love,” and Jared raises his head as people start to file past. Everyone that catches his gaze gives him a reassuring smile, and a woman a few rows ahead still hasn’t pulled herself together, so he tries to not be too embarrassed.
Getting out of church is slow. The path to the door is filled with goodbyes and handshakes. Jen gets hugged by no less than eight people and Jared four, including the pastor, a tall stick of a man that looks Jared right in the eye and says how good it is to meet him.
Jensen's blushing and grinning when they find sunlight again. Jared reaches out and cups his fingers along Jensen's jaw, thumb stroking over the bright line of the scar. He can’t help what comes next, can’t resist how Jensen freakin’ glows.
The kiss is shy and chaste, but it’s out in front of God and thirty people.
There’s a smattering of applause and a few good-natured cat-calls as they break apart.
“Sorry,” grins Jared, even though he’s so not. “Sorry.”
Jensen laughs and gives him a playful shove. They walk to the jeep hand in hand and only break apart for as long as it takes to get in.
