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FIC: Stranded in Motion Epilogue
Two Years Later
“This house smells like garlic,” Jensen announces as he comes into the kitchen, pulling off the leather jacket over his work shirt. He comes up behind Jared at the stove and presses a quick kiss to the side of his neck before heading back into the hall to put the jacket in the closet.
“You love garlic,” Jared replies, chuckling as he stirs the chili in the dutch oven on the stovetop.
“I do,” Jensen calls from the hallway. He pops his head back into the kitchen, grinning. “I love you more though.”
“Sap,” Jared murmurs, but his cheeks are heating up. Two years later, and he still sometimes can’t believe how his life turned out.
Happy yipping comes from the next room and Jared puts the wooden spoon down to go in and check it out. He walks cautiously, smoother on his new leg than he was six months ago when he got the updated version from Tahmoh, but there’s always a learning curve and Jared takes it one day at time.
Jensen’s lying flat on the floor with his limbs askew, like he’s making snow angels on the rug. Their dog, Sadie, a big ball of brown love, is pouncing on top of him and making sure his face is showered in kisses.
Jared looks at them fondly from where he’s leaning on the doorframe. They’ve had Sadie for a little over six months, getting her right around the time Jared got his latest prosthesis. She’s really Jared’s dog, trained as a service dog for veterans with PTSD, but he likes to think that she’s made their entire household the home that it was meant to be.
Getting her has also recently inspired Jared to start looking into learning how to train service dogs himself, as a possible long-term career goal. Jensen’s never pushed him to work and is more than happy to let Jared play home-maker, but Jared knows that giving back is something that he wants – no, needs to do, and service dogs are a wonderful way to start.
“Sadie, stop stealing all my kisses!” Jared calls out to her, and the dog stand immediately on alert with her ears straight up in the air. She trots over to him and walks close alongside him as he heads to the couch and sink down into it, stretching out his C-leg a few times before settling in. With a quick lick to the shin part of the prosthetic, she curls into a ball on the ground next to him.
Jensen crawls up onto the couch then, wrapping an arm around Jared’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. “Jealous of the dog now, huh?”
Jared shifts his head just enough so that he can nose against Jensen’s nose and steals a quick kiss on the mouth. “The dog doesn’t know how to make Mama Ackles’ Texas Chili, so I don’t think I have anything to be worried about.”
Jensen just grins at him, but his face is so close that he ends up cross-eyed and Jared starts laughing before Jensen can finish kissing him senseless.
“Chad called,” Jared says later, as he’s scrapping the bowl of the last bit of chili and popping it in his mouth. “Invited us to the opening event on his speaking tour.”
Jensen licks his spoon and makes a satisfied sound before answering. “I really hope that there’s an NC-17 warning sticker on tickets to those things, or else he’ll leave a lot of scandalized matrons in his wake.”
Jared laughs, getting up to take his bowl to the sink to rinse before putting it in the dishwasher. He steadies himself on the counter with one hand, and takes his time.
“Chad’s book was a hit with teenagers, which, in a way is probably expected considering his mental age is around sixteen.”
Jensen’s up and next to him then, rinsing his own bowl himself and handing it to Jared to put alongside his in the dishwasher. “I mean, who would have thought Chad of all people would be a best-selling author and motivational speaker? These people have obviously never met Chad.”
“Stop being mean to Chad. His best friend is the only one allowed to do that, “Jared teases, wrapping his arms around Jensen’s neck and pulling him in for a spicy, garlicky smooch.
They pull away after a long moment and head into the living room to snuggle on the couch and catch up on their DVR.
It’s the quiet nights like these that Jared loves. When it’s just the two of them in their warm little house, with their dog and their TV and the food Jared’s been learning to make, recipe by recipe. Even better is later, when Jensen lays Jared down on their king size bed and helps take off the prosthesis and sets it in its spot next to the nightstand.
The first time they had sex had been a bit of a disaster. Jared was a virgin, in pretty much every way a person could be a virgin. Jensen was, of course, an absolute gentleman, kind and loving, attentive and worshipful in a way that Jared just couldn’t understand back then. Finding a position that didn’t hurt was a challenge, and then afterwards, Jared burst into tears.
So yeah, not their finest intimate moment. But it was the beginning, and they were in it together even then.
Jared’s worked on himself a lot since those early days. He can’t change who he is, or the things that have happened to him. He’s still scarred and bruised from the occasional tumble. Still starts shaking uncontrollably at the sound of thunder or the crashing of a dropped plate. His panic attacks have lessened, but they’re not gone, and even with Sadie here to sense them coming on and warn him to get help, he knows that he’s never going to be a perfectly whole person, because he never was one to begin with.
Now though, it’s a Tuesday, any Tuesday. Jensen’s home from work and he smells like sandalwood soap and is warm from the shower. His skin is bare and decorated and Jared runs his hands over the last tattoo Jensen got on their first anniversary – a bird sitting atop it’s cage, not knowing whether it’s going to sing or fly, but having the wonderfully freeing option to do one or both or neither. Jared’s name is spelled out in cursive next to it, outside the cage, just like the bird. Part of the scrapbook of Jensen’s life now and forever.
Jared leans in and presses a kiss to the writing, right there on Jensen’s side. Jared can feel the tender line of Jensen’s ribs beneath it, and the heat emanating from his skin.
He lies back then, letting Jensen’s nude form crawl over him. Jared’s naked too now, bare and exposed and even now the goosebumps on his flesh rise up not from the cold but from anticipation.
Jensen kisses a pathway down Jared’s body. Starts on his forehead, brushing the newly long bangs off to the side with his nose. He kisses downwards, one on each cheekbones, dips in each dimple, in the cleft in Jared’s chin. Runs the tip of his tongue down the damp, warm line of Jared’s throat, circling down to run along the clavicle and not stopping until he’s dragged the pad of it along the tight pink buds of Jared’s nipples.
Jensen bites a pathway down Jared’s belly, which constricts under his touch. He drags his teeth along the line of Jared’s hipbone, and just barely brushes Jared’s dick with the side of his nose before starting down the path of what’s left of his left leg.
Jared had been horrified at first at even the thought of Jensen wanting to see his stump during sex, much less touching it. He’d devised plans in his head of how he could drape the sheet over it or how he could wear shorts that he just pulled down just so. It’s ridiculous in hindsight, considering that Jensen had been one of his first caretakers, and had seen both his wound and the aftermath of it at it’s worse.
But the thing was, Jared had wanted to feel desired. Wanted to feel beautiful and sexy and all these weird foreign things that he had never felt before. He didn’t think it was possible for his broken body to exist in that context.
But then Jensen happened. Always Jensen.
Jared moans low in his throat as Jensen starts kissing around the jagged scar tissue along the stump. It doesn’t hurt anymore, and a lot of the nerve endings have been damaged irreparably, but there is something so intimate about the way Jensen moves his soft, wet mouth along the curve that makes Jared feel things deeper than any other physical sensation.
Jensen turns him over then, until Jared is lying sprawled out on his belly on their cool cotton sheets. Jensen kisses the back of his thigh, nosing up until he’s peppering little butterfly kisses to the underside of Jared’s ass. He pulls back just enough then, hands coming up to crack open the cheeks just enough so that he can dip back down and press the flat of his tongue to Jared’s tight pink hole.
Jared moans again, can’t help himself. His face is pressed into the pillow and his arm are curled around his head, just holding on. Letting the weight of Jensen’s tongue breaking him open ground him in this moment.
Jensen’s making noises behind him, filthy, obscene noises that make Jared pant and writhe in unison to. There’s a rhythm there, Jensen’s body connecting to Jared’s body via one tiny little muscle in one tiny little space.
Jared barely knows how much time has passed before he feels Jensen’s tongue pull away, quickly replaced by two fingers, slick and chilled with lube. Jared hisses at the first instruction, but Jensen shushes him, kissing his lower back and the dip of his spine while telling him how beautiful he is and how thankful he is that Jared lets him have this.
After he’s prepared, after Jared feels his muscles loosen till they are begging Jensen for something bigger, something harder, something more, Jensen turns Jared to his side with his stump side facing out and slides up along his back.
Jensen enters him like this, spooned up alongside of him, his face against Jared’s head so that his mouth is right there to whisper filthy beautiful things into Jared’s ear as he presses inside.
Jensen curls one arm around Jared’s head, letting Jared use his bicep like a pillow, and with the other hand, Jensen slides down along the skin of his stump. He holds it there, as balance, as leverage as he thrusts in deep, so deep. But it’s also for comfort, for acceptance, to let Jared know that every single part of him is a part that Jensen cherishes.
They don’t last long, Jensen rutting into him and biting kisses into Jared’s neck as Jared strokes himself to the same pounding rhythm.
“Come, baby. I want to feel you come,” Jensen whispers in his ear, and that’s enough for Jared. Four more strokes and he’s spilling white all over his hand and the sheets, his ass clenching so hard around Jensen’s cock that Jensen follows almost immediately afterwards. Jared’s ass spasms again from the remnants of his orgasm, milking the jizz from Jensen’s dick until there’s nothing left.
Jensen pulls out, put doesn’t move. Just settles his body against Jared’s and breathes in the same humid air that smells like them. Jared can feel Jensen’s come dripping out of him, and it feels delicious, used and branded and connected in the most amazing way.
Jensen pushes his fingers back inside of Jared, the way slicked with Jensen’s own come. Jared just hums, lets him in, pushes back into it.
Today is Tuesday, any Tuesday. For the first time in his life, Jared is looking forward to Wednesday.
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