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Entry tags:
Cutback, CWrpf, Jared/JDM, NC-17
Title: Cutback
Fandom: CWrpf
Pairing: Jared/JDM
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Never happened. No, really.
Notes: More of Caught Inside. Jeff promised he wouldn't bail if Jared came back later. This is Jeff, not bailing.
Jared knocks back a couple of shots during the rest of the night--because he can't not drink when somebody buys him a round to celebrate--but he mostly sticks to water. Jensen grins when Jared asks the first time, but takes care of him after that, adding a couple extra bottles to the ones he buries in the ice machine for Steve and Chris.
Jeff watches him all night. Jared can feel it, and it's weird not to have to pretend like he doesn't notice, or to not watch Jeff back when he can see. It's good--it sparks along under his skin, making him aware of every inch of his body--but it's still a little odd.
"Jaaaaaaaaay," Danneel calls, right as she throws herself on him. Jared manages to catch her, laughing as they over-balance on the chair and barely keep from crashing to the floor. "Are you coming with us? The tide's going out; it'll be like glass on the bay."
"I'm gonna sit this one out," Jared says, still laughing. He can't quite figure out who she's taking home with her, but he's not too proud to admit he isn't brave enough to ask. She cocks her head and looks at him, and then back over the bar at Jeff, who has the worst fucking poker face in the world.
"Oh, my God, Jensen was serious?" she says. "You actually said something and the world didn't end?" When Jared nods, she sits up from where she's still draped across his lap and gives him a smacking kiss. "Don't let me interrupt anything."
Jared lets her hug him before he picks her up and sets her on her feet, and makes sure she has his lawyer's card. Even though she doesn't quite believe it yet, she's going nowhere but up, and it's important to have good people on your team right from the start.
Jeff taught him that.
Things start winding down not long after; it's a little early by Jeff's usual standards, but the place has been packed since late afternoon, and there aren't many people still standing. Jared walks out with the last few guys he knows, and gets back in time to give Chris a hand hauling guitars and amps out to Steve's van.
"Where's your truck?" Jeff pauses in the door to the kitchen and office.
"Up on Baldwin," Jared answers. "Street parking."
"Bring it around by the house," Jeff says, like it's no big deal, and Jared has to take a second to steady everything out.
"Okay," he says, but he can't quite be casual about it. He knows he's grinning like an idiot, and he'd feel like one, too, except Jeff's eyes don't quite match up with the rest of him, and he's letting Jared see everything in them.
"Here." Jeff digs in his pocket and tosses Jared something that turns out to be a key. "Back door."
"Thanks," Jared says automatically. He thinks he should say more, but Jeff's turned and gone before Jared can really wrap his brain around what he's got in his hand. He looks at the key for a long second, then shoves it in his pocket and goes back out onto the street. As far as he can tell, no one left in the café noticed the exchange, and something inside Jared wants to keep it that way.
He jogs the two blocks up the street to where he'd parked earlier, in the first crazy rush after getting done with the interviews and video. It's nowhere near the madhouse it had been earlier, tourists spilling out of every storefront and a steady stream from the competition pouring down the highway and into town, but there are still a good number of people out, and a surprising number of them know him well enough to yell congratulations at him. He smiles and waves and hopes he isn't coming off like an ass, but he honestly can't quite put names to faces. He'd feel bad about it, like he's blowing off his neighbors and all, except for how he thinks he might not recognize his mom tonight.
It's cleared out enough that it only takes a couple of minutes to get the truck back down to the café and pull it around the back, into the private part of the driveway, next to Jeff's Jeep, and then there's nothing keeping Jared from finding out that the key in his pocket really does work. Jeff's place is one of the older buildings still standing, with the café in what had been a storefront back when Paia was a plantation town, and the house part semi-attached. Jared remembers when Jeff had the main level re-done--he's pretty sure everybody remembers that, if only for the blowout housewarming at the end, where they'd nearly burned the place right back down--but he'd mostly been restoring the original plasterwork and the floors, not changing things around or knocking down walls. It's not big, and it doesn't have any of the crap that real estate agents are always babbling to Jared about, but the property runs right up to the bay and there aren't more than fifty people who can say that.
For all the time Jared spends in the café when he's on Maui, he hasn't been in the house all that often. It's a step beyond anything he's ever let himself think about, intimate in a way that he's kept strictly off-limits because really, what was the use? He thinks about going back over to the café, but he's afraid somebody will see him and want to talk and he and Jeff will miss this chance, like they've missed--or purposely fucked up, but he's not thinking about that, not right now--all the others. He ends up back out on the stone wall that rings the lanai, the ocean breeze filtering through the plumeria, and the half-full moon flickering in and out of the clouds.
He's not been there long when he hears the door open, and when he looks back over his shoulder, Jeff's there, leaning against the doorframe, a bottle of water in one hand.
"That was quick," Jared says, surprised at how normal he sounds. His heart doesn't get the memo to be cool; it's pounding like he just sprinted a mile. "Sandy throw you out?"
"I threw myself out before she could do it." Jeff smiles, but he's dead serious, Jared knows. "Last-ditch attempt at proving who's actually the boss."
Jared nods, and shifts around so he's facing Jeff, but neither one of them move any further. "I'm sorry," Jared says. "For before--I didn't mean to go off like that, right in the middle of everything."
"You weren't saying anything that wasn't true," Jeff says. "And … maybe we should have stopped worrying about the timing of all this a long time ago."
Jared shrugs. "Maybe. Or maybe it would have just been a bigger mess if we had."
"The we're-here-now-however-we-got-here strategy, yeah?" Jeff smiles again, and this one's for real, not distraction.
"Yeah," Jared agrees. "Wherever here is."
"Here is…" Jeff starts, and then steps all the way outside and pulls the door closed behind him, as though he's making it definite even though he's still not particularly close to where Jared's sitting on the wall. "It's where I tell you the truth. I'm crap at making something like this work, and--"
"I don't even know what 'this' is," Jared says, before Jeff can say the rest of everything Jared's afraid he's going to say, the part about how they're not going to work. "I just … I don't want it to be this thing," Jared finally says. "Like we've been, where we point at how great stuff is between us but it's only on the surface and we both know it, but we pretend like that's all there is, except sooner or later one of us says something or does something that isn't pretending and we're right back to where you can't stand to look at me and--"
"No," Jeff interrupts. "It's never been that I can't stand to look at you." He's got that shut-down look; Jared doesn't even need the moon to see the set of his shoulders, and it's like being back behind the bar again, frustrated enough that what little filter he normally has between his brain and mouth gets swept away.
"You weren't the first guy I'd been with," Jared snaps. "You weren't even the first guy I went down on in an alley, okay?" He takes a deep breath and lets it trickle out, reaches for some kind of calm. "I was drunk, and--fuck, do not look at me like that. You didn't do a thing to get me there. It … just was what it was."
"And you're okay with that?" Jeff growls, and hell, here they go again, Jared thinks. "That's what you wanted for your 18th birthday--on your knees in the alley?"
Jared makes himself stay quiet for a couple of seconds. He should probably try for longer, but even that long is a fucking miracle, and the words burst out of him like a dam breaking. "No, that's not what I wanted! For fuck's sake, I could barely look you in the eye for a year."
It gets quiet after that, but when Jared tells himself to man up and quit staring at the ground, Jeff's shoulders have relaxed, and he shakes his head when he sees Jared looking at him.
"Yeah, well, I kinda missed that, what with how I couldn't look you in the eye for about the same time," Jeff says, not quite smiling, but close.
"Okay," Jared says, after a few seconds. "I might have missed that part, too."
Jeff eases into a laugh, low and rueful enough that it's easy for Jared to stand up and cross over to where Jeff's leaning against the door. Kinda stupid, he's going to say; or maybe something less lame, but then Jeff reaches out and cups Jared's face in one hand, warm and callused, fingers tracing along Jared's jaw, and every single thing flies straight out of his brain at the touch.
"I am crap at making something like this work, but I guess you know that already," Jeff says, barely louder than a whisper.
"I just want to try," Jared says, and that's--even though this thing with Jeff's been with him so long he doesn't know how to make it go away, it doesn't mean he expects everything to happen magically. He turns his face into Jeff's hand, breathing out in a long, shaky breath. "For real. I--we can do that, right?"
Even with Jeff right there, his hand strong and warm on Jared's skin, it's still the scariest thing Jared's ever done.
"Yeah," Jeff says, easily. "We can do that."
"Yeah?" Jared breathes. "Just like that: yeah?"
"I'm thinking almost four years of dancing around each other after a drunken hook-up in an alley, not to mention the tantrums we've both been having the last couple of days, isn't 'just like that,'" Jeff says. "But, yeah, I guess that's where we are."
"Yeah--no, it's--yeah," Jared stutters. "Okay. It's--I'm--" Jeff laughs, soft and low, but he slides his hand into Jared's hair, cupping the back of his head and drawing him in close. Jared goes with it, ending up with his face tucked into the curve of Jeff's neck. "I told you I really didn't know." Everything comes out muffled, but he can't make himself pull away. Jeff doesn't say anything, just settles Jared a little more firmly against him, his fingers combing slowly through the hair at the back of Jared's neck.
"You know now?" Jeff says, after a bit, and Jared nods, still not lifting his head. "Good." Jeff turns so his mouth brushes across Jared's ear, and his voice, low and rough, drops right into Jared. Jeff slides his other hand, the one that's not petting Jared already, up under Jared's t-shirt, taking his time, tracing a path up Jared's back.
Jared takes a shaky breath and lets his own hand do the same, and Jeff whispers, "Fuck, Jay."
When Jared finally picks his head up, Jeff's right there, which, yeah, of course, what with how they're both seeing how much skin they can touch, but it's still a good thing, and makes it easy to lean in a little bit more and let Jeff close the last inch and bring their mouths together.
Jared's not exactly sure what he was expecting, but it's not the slow, controlled set of kisses that he gets. They're not tentative, or unsure, or even careful; Jeff just kisses him like there's no rush, no hurry; like they're going to be doing it for a while. Underneath it all, though, Jared can feel how tight a leash Jeff's keeping on everything, a promise of what's still out there waiting for them.
Jared gets his arms up, looped over Jeff's shoulders, and if anyone had told him last week that he'd be standing where he is, making out with Jeff, he'd have laughed in their face. Then Jeff moves against him, one hard, muscled thigh nudging in between his own, and Jared has to break the kiss to gasp in air. He groans as Jeff takes the opening to scrape his teeth under the curve of Jared's jaw.
"You like that?" Jeff rocks his thigh between Jared's again, and his hands slide down to hold Jared's hips steady. Jared nods twice, hissing in frustration when Jeff's fingers bite into his skin, not letting him move like he wants. "Easy," Jeff murmurs, his mouth moving in teasing circles along Jared's neck. "Easy."
"Jeff, fuck, c'mon." Jared twists his hands in Jeff's hair, pulling hard to get Jeff's mouth back up where he can reach it, and this time the kiss is anything but the slow or easy. Jeff keeps tight hold of Jared, but he lets Jared kiss him bruising hard, opens up and lets Jared tongue-fuck his mouth until Jared doesn't know where he ends and Jeff begins. "C'mon," he says again, a little less in control.
"Inside," Jeff says, setting Jared back a step. "We're not doing this here."
"We could." Jared would whine about the sudden lack of heat and muscle against him, except for the hands that are still digging into his hips. He's going to have finger-shaped bruises there in the morning; just thinking about it makes it hard to breathe. "I don't care."
"I do," Jeff says, rough and strong. His voice goes straight to Jared's dick, and Jared really, really wants to know what a full-on growl might do. "You can have whatever you want, as long as I get you in my bed."
"Well, come on, then." Jared twists away from Jeff, reaching to open the door. Jeff makes a low noise, like a smothered laugh, and Jared yanks at his hand. "Jeff. I've wanted you since I was fifteen, and all I've ever gotten was a drunken blowjob. I don't fucking care where this happens, as long as it does."
Jeff lets Jared tow him through the house, and Jared thinks he's still being laughed at, but then they're in the bedroom and Jeff stops right inside the door, pulling Jared back up against him.
"What do you want?" Jeff says it quietly, his mouth brushing over Jared's ear while he teases one hand along the waistband of Jared's cargoes, his fingers dipping just under cotton, so fucking close to where Jared wants them that Jared can't help whining. "Tell me, baby."
"I--God," Jared says, ending on a gasp as Jeff bites down on his earlobe. "You--you think I can think right now?"
"Let's take care of that," Jeff murmurs, steering Jared the last few steps to his bed, sliding Jared's t-shirt up and over his head as they go, and stripping him out of his cargoes and boxers and getting him to crawl up onto the mattress before Jared can even think about answering, much less stutter out something hopelessly incoherent. "'sokay," Jeff breathes against Jared's skin, high on his back. "I got you."
He presses up tight against Jared, soft, worn cotton and warm skin covering Jared everywhere, and reaches around him to take hold of his dick. Jared chokes back a whimper, and feels Jeff smile into his shoulder as he starts jerking Jared off: fast, rough strokes that hurt almost as much as they feel fucking awesome.
"Oh, God," Jared says, through gritted teeth, as his arms give out beneath him. Jeff stays with him, not letting him move or breathe or think for more than a second.
"Come on, baby," Jeff growls, and oh, fuck, Jared thinks. It's everything he thought it would be and more, sinking into him and making him want to whine and plead. "Come for me now."
Jeff rubs his thumb across the head of Jared's dick once, and then again, harder each time, exactly how Jared likes it, and everything flashes white. Jeff jacks him through it, pulling back right as Jared can't take any more, and then eases him down to the mattress, fitting himself to the curve of Jared's back. Over the pounding of his heart, Jared can hear Jeff's voice, low murmurs of gorgeous and beautiful and so fucking hot.
As soon as he can think again, Jared twists around to face Jeff, who's wearing a seriously smug smirk and way too many clothes. He lets Jared kiss him, though, and doesn't object when Jared starts working on the clothing issue.
"No fair ambushing me," Jared says, letting up on the kissing and moving his mouth down so he can taste the curve of Jeff's jaw. Jeff obliges, tilting his head back enough that Jared has free rein. "Thought I got to pick."
"You couldn't think," Jeff says, still with the smirk even if his voice is shading off toward hoarse and ragged. "I was just being helpful."
"It worked; thanks." Jared stops long enough to strip Jeff's shirt off, but then gets his mouth back on skin, skimming along the curve of Jeff's collarbone. "My brain's back now."
"And?" Jeff hisses when Jared bites at the corded muscle.
"And I want a lot," Jared whispers. He licks down to the waistband of Jeff's jeans, stopping and looking up as he unbuttons them. Jeff watches him back, his eyes dark and hooded, and Jared doesn't see anything but want and need in them. He drops his head and mouths along the hard line of Jeff's dick, sucking lightly at the head through the thin cotton knit of his boxers, rubbing his tongue along the crown until Jeff's swearing in a harsh, choked-off voice, one that starts the heat pooling low in Jared's belly again. "I want so much, Jeff; you don't even know."
Jared pulls at Jeff's jeans and boxers, shoving them down until he can taste Jeff for real, skin and pre-come bitter on his tongue. Jeff drags his hands through Jared's hair, petting, definitely not pulling even though Jared can feel that leashed power again. He wants to tell Jeff it's okay, he can take it, but instead he just relaxes his throat and takes as much of Jeff's dick as he can.
Jeff lets him set the pace, and Jared falls into an easy rhythm, Jeff's dick heavy and solid on his tongue, against the back of his throat. Jeff follows, his hips rolling with every move Jared makes, and his voice rough and breathless. When he did this before, on his knees behind the café, Jeff fucking his throat like a whore, it was hot as hell. Doing it like this--taking his time, feeling all the shudders Jeff can't stop, tracing over Jeff's dick with his tongue, learning it for real--is so much better that every time Jeff says his name, Jared doesn't know whether to purr with satisfaction or whimper with need.
"Jared, wait." Jeff's fingers tighten in Jared's hair. "Jay."
Reluctantly, Jared stops. Jeff's breathing hard, but his hand is rock-steady as he reaches out and strokes the back of his fingers across Jared's face.
"Twist around," Jeff says, rubbing his thumb along Jared's lower lip, and it takes Jared a second to really hear him. "Come on, Jay; let me…"
"Fuck," Jared breathes, when he finally figures out what Jeff wants. He scrambles to get himself further up on the bed, meaning to curl closer to Jeff on his side. Jeff has other ideas, though, and Jared ends up facing the bottom of the bed with his knees on either side of Jeff's shoulders. Jeff runs his hands in a long, slow sweep up the inside and back of Jared's thighs, following with his mouth, and Jared really fucking doesn't care how needy he sounds when he whines for more.
"Keep going," Jeff says, biting high on Jared's thigh, just hard enough to sting. Jared gets it together enough to get Jeff's dick back in his mouth right as Jeff licks over the bite mark, and then it all blurs together into Jeff, the taste of him and the feel of him, his dick thick and solid in Jared's throat, his hands holding Jared exactly where he wants him, his mouth everywhere: Jared's balls, the base of his dick, the crease of his thigh.
Jared can hear his own choked-off moans as Jeff fucks his throat, and the higher, sharper noise he starts making when Jeff works two fingers into his ass, but he digs his hands into the mattress and hangs on, determined to stay with it long enough to get Jeff there first. Jeff's close; every time he pushes his dick down Jared's throat, Jared can tell there's a little less control, a little less finesse. He gets one hand up to play with Jeff's balls, rolling them, squeezing them harder than he'd intended, but Jeff only groans. His hips snap up one last time, and it's all Jared can do not to choke on the sudden rush of hotbittersalt in his throat. Before Jared can breathe, Jeff twists his fingers inside him, curving them just right, and lightning slams through Jared one more time, longer and and rougher than before.
Jeff eases him down--Jared thinks he manages to make it off his knees without kicking Jeff in the head--and shifts over enough that Jared has room to press up against him and hold on while he tries not to shake apart. Slowly, his heart stops pounding and his pulse evens out and it's easier to breathe. Little things edge into his consciousness--the soft wash of the ocean hitting the sand outside the open windows, how the leaves whisper in the breeze, the way the house creaks and settles in the night--filling in around the big thing: Jeff right there, warm and solid against him, one hand wrapped around the top of Jared's calf, thumb rubbing small circles on the back of Jared's knee.
"You still with me?" Jeff leans up on one elbow; watches Jared with careful, almost guarded eyes.
Jared nods, half into the bed, half into Jeff's thigh, and the low, contented sound Jeff makes, something close to a purr, is incentive enough for Jared to actually move. He gets himself off the edge of the bed and right-side up, crawling over Jeff to claim the other half of the pillow Jeff's using. Jeff's hand ends up on his hip, the touch of his fingers light enough to tickle, but Jared isn't about to complain.
"Not going anywhere." Jared thinks Jeff should know that by now, but he can say it as often as he needs to, now that he knows Jeff wants to hear it.
"Good," Jeff murmurs, edging even closer to Jared.
Jared hums in agreement and watches Jeff slide into sleep. By all rights, Jared should be unconscious, too, but there's still too much bouncing around in his head from the day, not the least of which is that he's still half-afraid he'll wake up and find this whole thing was a dream.
He gets out of bed an hour later, when he's still wide awake. He thinks about a shower, but ends up pulling on his cargoes and wandering back out onto the lanai. The clouds have blown through and the moon's still bright enough that he can see it catch on the occasional whitecap out in the bay.
The plantings across the front of the house are thick enough to mute the sound of the occasional car going past, and Jared can zone out and try to let the day go. He's always hyped after a competition, especially one he did well in, but being at home, letting everybody see what he can do, is an even bigger jolt than he ever imagined. With Jeff thrown into the mix, Jared should probably be happy he hasn't had to run across the island and back just to be able to sit down without jittering.
His brain starts to sort it out, little trickles of calm widening slowly, and he's almost ready to go back inside when Jeff steps out onto the lanai, scrubbing one hand through his hair, jeans riding low enough on his hips that Jared knows they're all he's wearing.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah." Jared smiles and shifts over. "Just strung out from the day." Jeff takes the hint and settles down next to Jared, leaning his head back against the wall. "I--it's like, Hook is my place, and it was fucking unbelievable out there today. Everybody got great rides, mind-blowing stuff, but it was like they were finding out how awesome my place was."
"Waimea was always like that for me," Jeff says. "Everybody was into shortboards, but you can't do a thing on anything less than a seven-footer out in that bay. Let a storm hit just right, though, and they'd haul out the guns and come see what all the fuss was about. I used to love watching them get it."
"Yeah," Jared says, surprised. It's one of only a few times Jared's ever heard Jeff say anything about that part of his life. "I've seen film of you. Man, that longboard you had--that's seriously the biggest board I've ever seen anyone ride." He's always wanted to ask how Jeff ended up here, on Maui, because as much as Jared loves the island, it doesn't see a tenth of the waves the North Shore of Oahu gets. "You were dug in there, like Lopez at Pipeline."
He holds his breath, but Jeff doesn't turn his unspoken question aside like Jared knows he could, only says, "I burned a hell of a lot of bridges on the way down."
Jared thinks about all the people who've been in and out of the café over the last week, and all the guys he runs into out on the tour who, as soon as Jared says he's from Paia, want to know if he knows Jeff, but doesn't say anything. Not yet.
"It's great out here," Jared says, after a little while. "I get the view up at my place, but…" Jared gestures out at the bay and the curve of sand he can just see from where he's sitting. "It's not the same."
"It doesn't suck," Jeff says, with a half-smile.
"You say that like it's a surprise," Jared says.
"Some days, it really is." Jeff shakes his head, and then changes the subject. "How much longer are you here?"
"The Gold Coast Invitational's in … ten days?" Jared laughs. "With how long it took for the weather to quit jerking us around here, I kind of lost track." He slumps back and lets himself lean against Jeff, smiling when Jeff doesn't pull away. "I'll figure it out tomorrow. There's a pile of crap on my kitchen table; I'm sure somebody's sent me something that'll tell me what I'm supposed to be doing."
"You sticking around until then?"
"Yeah," Jared says, taking a deep breath. "Starboard--we've been talking back and forth for a while, y'know, seeing if we fit and all--anyway, they've been here this week, and they're not jerks, and I guess they decided I wasn't going to flake out on them or anything, so they're supposed to send over the final contracts this week." He'd only had about 30 seconds free between finishing off the competition and people wanting pieces of his time, but he'd managed to talk with his agent and the guys from Starboard. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten business done while he was supposed to be partying.
"Good?" Jeff asks, and Jared remembers the first tiny sponsorship he'd gotten, how fucking thrilled he'd been to tell Jeff about it. From Jeff's tone, he thinks maybe Jeff's remembering it, too.
"Yeah." Jared nods. Everyone had good things to say to each other; he doesn't think anything will go bad, but he doesn't count on anything unless it's in writing and he can go over it with the lawyers until he understands every word. Jeff taught him that, too."Stupid amounts of money. I wasn't sure about going with them exclusively, 'cause you know I like to put together my own rig, but they did everything I used this week, and we worked it out that they'll do a custom line for me."
"That's why you're signing, isn't it," Jeff says, laughing softly. "Shiny new toys."
"The best design engineers out there," Jared corrects him. "And a fuckton of money." Jeff eyes him out of half-slitted eyes, until Jared laughs and admits, "But yeah, shiny new toys."
It gets quiet again; Jared can finally feel the day letting go of him, but there's one last thing he wants to make sure Jeff knows.
"What I said earlier, before all the yelling started," Jared says, softly. "I'm good, I swear."
"I know what top prize was today," Jeff says. "And I know what number I ran against your card before I closed up."
"I do, too.," Jared shrugs. "It was a lot, but c'mon, we both know the real money's in the endorsements."
"Jay--" Jeff sighs.
"No," Jared answers. "I know. Most of the time, I am the most boring guy on the tour. Ask anyone. It's a running joke. It's--even just being out there for a couple of years, I've seen it, guys who were on top yesterday, screamin' hot, and you can't find them a year later. I know it's a short-term gig--hell, it could end tomorrow, or the day after that."
"It could," Jeff says, and Jared hears a lot under his words, things that Jared really needs to figure out if this thing between them isn't going to implode somewhere down the line. But later, because Jared isn't going to push his luck any further tonight, especially not when Jeff's letting Jared shift closer. "You're doin' good, though, Jay."
"Thanks." Jared doesn't mean to, but he ends up with almost all his weight leaning on Jeff. Jeff doesn't seem to care. "So are you." Jeff half-snorts at that, but Jared ignores him. "We should sleep now," he says, a mammoth yawn sneaking up on him.
"Oh, you think so," Jeff mutters, hauling him to his feet. "You say that like I'm the one who went wandering in the first place." He steers Jared back toward the bedroom, and there's that whole unreal thing again, but Jared manages not to make an idiot of himself. He crawls under the sheet, and he can't help smiling when Jeff crashes down next to him.
He rolls close to Jeff, at the last second chickening out of spooning up against him. Jeff reaches back and drags him closer, though.
"Stay," Jeff murmurs, like he's fine saying it as often as Jared needs to hear it, and Jared falls asleep with one arm draped across Jeff and their legs tangled together.
***
***
It's been a looong couple of weeks, and it made my brain very happy to go back and revisit this Jeff and Jared, and to really figure out what they did and didn't say to each other, especially since I really fell head over heels for them as I was writing Caught Inside. Please to excuse the self-indulgence.
Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gracecourage for reading and flailing, and to without_me for her usual excellent read-through. I changed things after she blessed the draft, so any mistakes are definitely mine.
Fandom: CWrpf
Pairing: Jared/JDM
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Never happened. No, really.
Notes: More of Caught Inside. Jeff promised he wouldn't bail if Jared came back later. This is Jeff, not bailing.
Jared knocks back a couple of shots during the rest of the night--because he can't not drink when somebody buys him a round to celebrate--but he mostly sticks to water. Jensen grins when Jared asks the first time, but takes care of him after that, adding a couple extra bottles to the ones he buries in the ice machine for Steve and Chris.
Jeff watches him all night. Jared can feel it, and it's weird not to have to pretend like he doesn't notice, or to not watch Jeff back when he can see. It's good--it sparks along under his skin, making him aware of every inch of his body--but it's still a little odd.
"Jaaaaaaaaay," Danneel calls, right as she throws herself on him. Jared manages to catch her, laughing as they over-balance on the chair and barely keep from crashing to the floor. "Are you coming with us? The tide's going out; it'll be like glass on the bay."
"I'm gonna sit this one out," Jared says, still laughing. He can't quite figure out who she's taking home with her, but he's not too proud to admit he isn't brave enough to ask. She cocks her head and looks at him, and then back over the bar at Jeff, who has the worst fucking poker face in the world.
"Oh, my God, Jensen was serious?" she says. "You actually said something and the world didn't end?" When Jared nods, she sits up from where she's still draped across his lap and gives him a smacking kiss. "Don't let me interrupt anything."
Jared lets her hug him before he picks her up and sets her on her feet, and makes sure she has his lawyer's card. Even though she doesn't quite believe it yet, she's going nowhere but up, and it's important to have good people on your team right from the start.
Jeff taught him that.
Things start winding down not long after; it's a little early by Jeff's usual standards, but the place has been packed since late afternoon, and there aren't many people still standing. Jared walks out with the last few guys he knows, and gets back in time to give Chris a hand hauling guitars and amps out to Steve's van.
"Where's your truck?" Jeff pauses in the door to the kitchen and office.
"Up on Baldwin," Jared answers. "Street parking."
"Bring it around by the house," Jeff says, like it's no big deal, and Jared has to take a second to steady everything out.
"Okay," he says, but he can't quite be casual about it. He knows he's grinning like an idiot, and he'd feel like one, too, except Jeff's eyes don't quite match up with the rest of him, and he's letting Jared see everything in them.
"Here." Jeff digs in his pocket and tosses Jared something that turns out to be a key. "Back door."
"Thanks," Jared says automatically. He thinks he should say more, but Jeff's turned and gone before Jared can really wrap his brain around what he's got in his hand. He looks at the key for a long second, then shoves it in his pocket and goes back out onto the street. As far as he can tell, no one left in the café noticed the exchange, and something inside Jared wants to keep it that way.
He jogs the two blocks up the street to where he'd parked earlier, in the first crazy rush after getting done with the interviews and video. It's nowhere near the madhouse it had been earlier, tourists spilling out of every storefront and a steady stream from the competition pouring down the highway and into town, but there are still a good number of people out, and a surprising number of them know him well enough to yell congratulations at him. He smiles and waves and hopes he isn't coming off like an ass, but he honestly can't quite put names to faces. He'd feel bad about it, like he's blowing off his neighbors and all, except for how he thinks he might not recognize his mom tonight.
It's cleared out enough that it only takes a couple of minutes to get the truck back down to the café and pull it around the back, into the private part of the driveway, next to Jeff's Jeep, and then there's nothing keeping Jared from finding out that the key in his pocket really does work. Jeff's place is one of the older buildings still standing, with the café in what had been a storefront back when Paia was a plantation town, and the house part semi-attached. Jared remembers when Jeff had the main level re-done--he's pretty sure everybody remembers that, if only for the blowout housewarming at the end, where they'd nearly burned the place right back down--but he'd mostly been restoring the original plasterwork and the floors, not changing things around or knocking down walls. It's not big, and it doesn't have any of the crap that real estate agents are always babbling to Jared about, but the property runs right up to the bay and there aren't more than fifty people who can say that.
For all the time Jared spends in the café when he's on Maui, he hasn't been in the house all that often. It's a step beyond anything he's ever let himself think about, intimate in a way that he's kept strictly off-limits because really, what was the use? He thinks about going back over to the café, but he's afraid somebody will see him and want to talk and he and Jeff will miss this chance, like they've missed--or purposely fucked up, but he's not thinking about that, not right now--all the others. He ends up back out on the stone wall that rings the lanai, the ocean breeze filtering through the plumeria, and the half-full moon flickering in and out of the clouds.
He's not been there long when he hears the door open, and when he looks back over his shoulder, Jeff's there, leaning against the doorframe, a bottle of water in one hand.
"That was quick," Jared says, surprised at how normal he sounds. His heart doesn't get the memo to be cool; it's pounding like he just sprinted a mile. "Sandy throw you out?"
"I threw myself out before she could do it." Jeff smiles, but he's dead serious, Jared knows. "Last-ditch attempt at proving who's actually the boss."
Jared nods, and shifts around so he's facing Jeff, but neither one of them move any further. "I'm sorry," Jared says. "For before--I didn't mean to go off like that, right in the middle of everything."
"You weren't saying anything that wasn't true," Jeff says. "And … maybe we should have stopped worrying about the timing of all this a long time ago."
Jared shrugs. "Maybe. Or maybe it would have just been a bigger mess if we had."
"The we're-here-now-however-we-got-here strategy, yeah?" Jeff smiles again, and this one's for real, not distraction.
"Yeah," Jared agrees. "Wherever here is."
"Here is…" Jeff starts, and then steps all the way outside and pulls the door closed behind him, as though he's making it definite even though he's still not particularly close to where Jared's sitting on the wall. "It's where I tell you the truth. I'm crap at making something like this work, and--"
"I don't even know what 'this' is," Jared says, before Jeff can say the rest of everything Jared's afraid he's going to say, the part about how they're not going to work. "I just … I don't want it to be this thing," Jared finally says. "Like we've been, where we point at how great stuff is between us but it's only on the surface and we both know it, but we pretend like that's all there is, except sooner or later one of us says something or does something that isn't pretending and we're right back to where you can't stand to look at me and--"
"No," Jeff interrupts. "It's never been that I can't stand to look at you." He's got that shut-down look; Jared doesn't even need the moon to see the set of his shoulders, and it's like being back behind the bar again, frustrated enough that what little filter he normally has between his brain and mouth gets swept away.
"You weren't the first guy I'd been with," Jared snaps. "You weren't even the first guy I went down on in an alley, okay?" He takes a deep breath and lets it trickle out, reaches for some kind of calm. "I was drunk, and--fuck, do not look at me like that. You didn't do a thing to get me there. It … just was what it was."
"And you're okay with that?" Jeff growls, and hell, here they go again, Jared thinks. "That's what you wanted for your 18th birthday--on your knees in the alley?"
Jared makes himself stay quiet for a couple of seconds. He should probably try for longer, but even that long is a fucking miracle, and the words burst out of him like a dam breaking. "No, that's not what I wanted! For fuck's sake, I could barely look you in the eye for a year."
It gets quiet after that, but when Jared tells himself to man up and quit staring at the ground, Jeff's shoulders have relaxed, and he shakes his head when he sees Jared looking at him.
"Yeah, well, I kinda missed that, what with how I couldn't look you in the eye for about the same time," Jeff says, not quite smiling, but close.
"Okay," Jared says, after a few seconds. "I might have missed that part, too."
Jeff eases into a laugh, low and rueful enough that it's easy for Jared to stand up and cross over to where Jeff's leaning against the door. Kinda stupid, he's going to say; or maybe something less lame, but then Jeff reaches out and cups Jared's face in one hand, warm and callused, fingers tracing along Jared's jaw, and every single thing flies straight out of his brain at the touch.
"I am crap at making something like this work, but I guess you know that already," Jeff says, barely louder than a whisper.
"I just want to try," Jared says, and that's--even though this thing with Jeff's been with him so long he doesn't know how to make it go away, it doesn't mean he expects everything to happen magically. He turns his face into Jeff's hand, breathing out in a long, shaky breath. "For real. I--we can do that, right?"
Even with Jeff right there, his hand strong and warm on Jared's skin, it's still the scariest thing Jared's ever done.
"Yeah," Jeff says, easily. "We can do that."
"Yeah?" Jared breathes. "Just like that: yeah?"
"I'm thinking almost four years of dancing around each other after a drunken hook-up in an alley, not to mention the tantrums we've both been having the last couple of days, isn't 'just like that,'" Jeff says. "But, yeah, I guess that's where we are."
"Yeah--no, it's--yeah," Jared stutters. "Okay. It's--I'm--" Jeff laughs, soft and low, but he slides his hand into Jared's hair, cupping the back of his head and drawing him in close. Jared goes with it, ending up with his face tucked into the curve of Jeff's neck. "I told you I really didn't know." Everything comes out muffled, but he can't make himself pull away. Jeff doesn't say anything, just settles Jared a little more firmly against him, his fingers combing slowly through the hair at the back of Jared's neck.
"You know now?" Jeff says, after a bit, and Jared nods, still not lifting his head. "Good." Jeff turns so his mouth brushes across Jared's ear, and his voice, low and rough, drops right into Jared. Jeff slides his other hand, the one that's not petting Jared already, up under Jared's t-shirt, taking his time, tracing a path up Jared's back.
Jared takes a shaky breath and lets his own hand do the same, and Jeff whispers, "Fuck, Jay."
When Jared finally picks his head up, Jeff's right there, which, yeah, of course, what with how they're both seeing how much skin they can touch, but it's still a good thing, and makes it easy to lean in a little bit more and let Jeff close the last inch and bring their mouths together.
Jared's not exactly sure what he was expecting, but it's not the slow, controlled set of kisses that he gets. They're not tentative, or unsure, or even careful; Jeff just kisses him like there's no rush, no hurry; like they're going to be doing it for a while. Underneath it all, though, Jared can feel how tight a leash Jeff's keeping on everything, a promise of what's still out there waiting for them.
Jared gets his arms up, looped over Jeff's shoulders, and if anyone had told him last week that he'd be standing where he is, making out with Jeff, he'd have laughed in their face. Then Jeff moves against him, one hard, muscled thigh nudging in between his own, and Jared has to break the kiss to gasp in air. He groans as Jeff takes the opening to scrape his teeth under the curve of Jared's jaw.
"You like that?" Jeff rocks his thigh between Jared's again, and his hands slide down to hold Jared's hips steady. Jared nods twice, hissing in frustration when Jeff's fingers bite into his skin, not letting him move like he wants. "Easy," Jeff murmurs, his mouth moving in teasing circles along Jared's neck. "Easy."
"Jeff, fuck, c'mon." Jared twists his hands in Jeff's hair, pulling hard to get Jeff's mouth back up where he can reach it, and this time the kiss is anything but the slow or easy. Jeff keeps tight hold of Jared, but he lets Jared kiss him bruising hard, opens up and lets Jared tongue-fuck his mouth until Jared doesn't know where he ends and Jeff begins. "C'mon," he says again, a little less in control.
"Inside," Jeff says, setting Jared back a step. "We're not doing this here."
"We could." Jared would whine about the sudden lack of heat and muscle against him, except for the hands that are still digging into his hips. He's going to have finger-shaped bruises there in the morning; just thinking about it makes it hard to breathe. "I don't care."
"I do," Jeff says, rough and strong. His voice goes straight to Jared's dick, and Jared really, really wants to know what a full-on growl might do. "You can have whatever you want, as long as I get you in my bed."
"Well, come on, then." Jared twists away from Jeff, reaching to open the door. Jeff makes a low noise, like a smothered laugh, and Jared yanks at his hand. "Jeff. I've wanted you since I was fifteen, and all I've ever gotten was a drunken blowjob. I don't fucking care where this happens, as long as it does."
Jeff lets Jared tow him through the house, and Jared thinks he's still being laughed at, but then they're in the bedroom and Jeff stops right inside the door, pulling Jared back up against him.
"What do you want?" Jeff says it quietly, his mouth brushing over Jared's ear while he teases one hand along the waistband of Jared's cargoes, his fingers dipping just under cotton, so fucking close to where Jared wants them that Jared can't help whining. "Tell me, baby."
"I--God," Jared says, ending on a gasp as Jeff bites down on his earlobe. "You--you think I can think right now?"
"Let's take care of that," Jeff murmurs, steering Jared the last few steps to his bed, sliding Jared's t-shirt up and over his head as they go, and stripping him out of his cargoes and boxers and getting him to crawl up onto the mattress before Jared can even think about answering, much less stutter out something hopelessly incoherent. "'sokay," Jeff breathes against Jared's skin, high on his back. "I got you."
He presses up tight against Jared, soft, worn cotton and warm skin covering Jared everywhere, and reaches around him to take hold of his dick. Jared chokes back a whimper, and feels Jeff smile into his shoulder as he starts jerking Jared off: fast, rough strokes that hurt almost as much as they feel fucking awesome.
"Oh, God," Jared says, through gritted teeth, as his arms give out beneath him. Jeff stays with him, not letting him move or breathe or think for more than a second.
"Come on, baby," Jeff growls, and oh, fuck, Jared thinks. It's everything he thought it would be and more, sinking into him and making him want to whine and plead. "Come for me now."
Jeff rubs his thumb across the head of Jared's dick once, and then again, harder each time, exactly how Jared likes it, and everything flashes white. Jeff jacks him through it, pulling back right as Jared can't take any more, and then eases him down to the mattress, fitting himself to the curve of Jared's back. Over the pounding of his heart, Jared can hear Jeff's voice, low murmurs of gorgeous and beautiful and so fucking hot.
As soon as he can think again, Jared twists around to face Jeff, who's wearing a seriously smug smirk and way too many clothes. He lets Jared kiss him, though, and doesn't object when Jared starts working on the clothing issue.
"No fair ambushing me," Jared says, letting up on the kissing and moving his mouth down so he can taste the curve of Jeff's jaw. Jeff obliges, tilting his head back enough that Jared has free rein. "Thought I got to pick."
"You couldn't think," Jeff says, still with the smirk even if his voice is shading off toward hoarse and ragged. "I was just being helpful."
"It worked; thanks." Jared stops long enough to strip Jeff's shirt off, but then gets his mouth back on skin, skimming along the curve of Jeff's collarbone. "My brain's back now."
"And?" Jeff hisses when Jared bites at the corded muscle.
"And I want a lot," Jared whispers. He licks down to the waistband of Jeff's jeans, stopping and looking up as he unbuttons them. Jeff watches him back, his eyes dark and hooded, and Jared doesn't see anything but want and need in them. He drops his head and mouths along the hard line of Jeff's dick, sucking lightly at the head through the thin cotton knit of his boxers, rubbing his tongue along the crown until Jeff's swearing in a harsh, choked-off voice, one that starts the heat pooling low in Jared's belly again. "I want so much, Jeff; you don't even know."
Jared pulls at Jeff's jeans and boxers, shoving them down until he can taste Jeff for real, skin and pre-come bitter on his tongue. Jeff drags his hands through Jared's hair, petting, definitely not pulling even though Jared can feel that leashed power again. He wants to tell Jeff it's okay, he can take it, but instead he just relaxes his throat and takes as much of Jeff's dick as he can.
Jeff lets him set the pace, and Jared falls into an easy rhythm, Jeff's dick heavy and solid on his tongue, against the back of his throat. Jeff follows, his hips rolling with every move Jared makes, and his voice rough and breathless. When he did this before, on his knees behind the café, Jeff fucking his throat like a whore, it was hot as hell. Doing it like this--taking his time, feeling all the shudders Jeff can't stop, tracing over Jeff's dick with his tongue, learning it for real--is so much better that every time Jeff says his name, Jared doesn't know whether to purr with satisfaction or whimper with need.
"Jared, wait." Jeff's fingers tighten in Jared's hair. "Jay."
Reluctantly, Jared stops. Jeff's breathing hard, but his hand is rock-steady as he reaches out and strokes the back of his fingers across Jared's face.
"Twist around," Jeff says, rubbing his thumb along Jared's lower lip, and it takes Jared a second to really hear him. "Come on, Jay; let me…"
"Fuck," Jared breathes, when he finally figures out what Jeff wants. He scrambles to get himself further up on the bed, meaning to curl closer to Jeff on his side. Jeff has other ideas, though, and Jared ends up facing the bottom of the bed with his knees on either side of Jeff's shoulders. Jeff runs his hands in a long, slow sweep up the inside and back of Jared's thighs, following with his mouth, and Jared really fucking doesn't care how needy he sounds when he whines for more.
"Keep going," Jeff says, biting high on Jared's thigh, just hard enough to sting. Jared gets it together enough to get Jeff's dick back in his mouth right as Jeff licks over the bite mark, and then it all blurs together into Jeff, the taste of him and the feel of him, his dick thick and solid in Jared's throat, his hands holding Jared exactly where he wants him, his mouth everywhere: Jared's balls, the base of his dick, the crease of his thigh.
Jared can hear his own choked-off moans as Jeff fucks his throat, and the higher, sharper noise he starts making when Jeff works two fingers into his ass, but he digs his hands into the mattress and hangs on, determined to stay with it long enough to get Jeff there first. Jeff's close; every time he pushes his dick down Jared's throat, Jared can tell there's a little less control, a little less finesse. He gets one hand up to play with Jeff's balls, rolling them, squeezing them harder than he'd intended, but Jeff only groans. His hips snap up one last time, and it's all Jared can do not to choke on the sudden rush of hotbittersalt in his throat. Before Jared can breathe, Jeff twists his fingers inside him, curving them just right, and lightning slams through Jared one more time, longer and and rougher than before.
Jeff eases him down--Jared thinks he manages to make it off his knees without kicking Jeff in the head--and shifts over enough that Jared has room to press up against him and hold on while he tries not to shake apart. Slowly, his heart stops pounding and his pulse evens out and it's easier to breathe. Little things edge into his consciousness--the soft wash of the ocean hitting the sand outside the open windows, how the leaves whisper in the breeze, the way the house creaks and settles in the night--filling in around the big thing: Jeff right there, warm and solid against him, one hand wrapped around the top of Jared's calf, thumb rubbing small circles on the back of Jared's knee.
"You still with me?" Jeff leans up on one elbow; watches Jared with careful, almost guarded eyes.
Jared nods, half into the bed, half into Jeff's thigh, and the low, contented sound Jeff makes, something close to a purr, is incentive enough for Jared to actually move. He gets himself off the edge of the bed and right-side up, crawling over Jeff to claim the other half of the pillow Jeff's using. Jeff's hand ends up on his hip, the touch of his fingers light enough to tickle, but Jared isn't about to complain.
"Not going anywhere." Jared thinks Jeff should know that by now, but he can say it as often as he needs to, now that he knows Jeff wants to hear it.
"Good," Jeff murmurs, edging even closer to Jared.
Jared hums in agreement and watches Jeff slide into sleep. By all rights, Jared should be unconscious, too, but there's still too much bouncing around in his head from the day, not the least of which is that he's still half-afraid he'll wake up and find this whole thing was a dream.
He gets out of bed an hour later, when he's still wide awake. He thinks about a shower, but ends up pulling on his cargoes and wandering back out onto the lanai. The clouds have blown through and the moon's still bright enough that he can see it catch on the occasional whitecap out in the bay.
The plantings across the front of the house are thick enough to mute the sound of the occasional car going past, and Jared can zone out and try to let the day go. He's always hyped after a competition, especially one he did well in, but being at home, letting everybody see what he can do, is an even bigger jolt than he ever imagined. With Jeff thrown into the mix, Jared should probably be happy he hasn't had to run across the island and back just to be able to sit down without jittering.
His brain starts to sort it out, little trickles of calm widening slowly, and he's almost ready to go back inside when Jeff steps out onto the lanai, scrubbing one hand through his hair, jeans riding low enough on his hips that Jared knows they're all he's wearing.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah." Jared smiles and shifts over. "Just strung out from the day." Jeff takes the hint and settles down next to Jared, leaning his head back against the wall. "I--it's like, Hook is my place, and it was fucking unbelievable out there today. Everybody got great rides, mind-blowing stuff, but it was like they were finding out how awesome my place was."
"Waimea was always like that for me," Jeff says. "Everybody was into shortboards, but you can't do a thing on anything less than a seven-footer out in that bay. Let a storm hit just right, though, and they'd haul out the guns and come see what all the fuss was about. I used to love watching them get it."
"Yeah," Jared says, surprised. It's one of only a few times Jared's ever heard Jeff say anything about that part of his life. "I've seen film of you. Man, that longboard you had--that's seriously the biggest board I've ever seen anyone ride." He's always wanted to ask how Jeff ended up here, on Maui, because as much as Jared loves the island, it doesn't see a tenth of the waves the North Shore of Oahu gets. "You were dug in there, like Lopez at Pipeline."
He holds his breath, but Jeff doesn't turn his unspoken question aside like Jared knows he could, only says, "I burned a hell of a lot of bridges on the way down."
Jared thinks about all the people who've been in and out of the café over the last week, and all the guys he runs into out on the tour who, as soon as Jared says he's from Paia, want to know if he knows Jeff, but doesn't say anything. Not yet.
"It's great out here," Jared says, after a little while. "I get the view up at my place, but…" Jared gestures out at the bay and the curve of sand he can just see from where he's sitting. "It's not the same."
"It doesn't suck," Jeff says, with a half-smile.
"You say that like it's a surprise," Jared says.
"Some days, it really is." Jeff shakes his head, and then changes the subject. "How much longer are you here?"
"The Gold Coast Invitational's in … ten days?" Jared laughs. "With how long it took for the weather to quit jerking us around here, I kind of lost track." He slumps back and lets himself lean against Jeff, smiling when Jeff doesn't pull away. "I'll figure it out tomorrow. There's a pile of crap on my kitchen table; I'm sure somebody's sent me something that'll tell me what I'm supposed to be doing."
"You sticking around until then?"
"Yeah," Jared says, taking a deep breath. "Starboard--we've been talking back and forth for a while, y'know, seeing if we fit and all--anyway, they've been here this week, and they're not jerks, and I guess they decided I wasn't going to flake out on them or anything, so they're supposed to send over the final contracts this week." He'd only had about 30 seconds free between finishing off the competition and people wanting pieces of his time, but he'd managed to talk with his agent and the guys from Starboard. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten business done while he was supposed to be partying.
"Good?" Jeff asks, and Jared remembers the first tiny sponsorship he'd gotten, how fucking thrilled he'd been to tell Jeff about it. From Jeff's tone, he thinks maybe Jeff's remembering it, too.
"Yeah." Jared nods. Everyone had good things to say to each other; he doesn't think anything will go bad, but he doesn't count on anything unless it's in writing and he can go over it with the lawyers until he understands every word. Jeff taught him that, too."Stupid amounts of money. I wasn't sure about going with them exclusively, 'cause you know I like to put together my own rig, but they did everything I used this week, and we worked it out that they'll do a custom line for me."
"That's why you're signing, isn't it," Jeff says, laughing softly. "Shiny new toys."
"The best design engineers out there," Jared corrects him. "And a fuckton of money." Jeff eyes him out of half-slitted eyes, until Jared laughs and admits, "But yeah, shiny new toys."
It gets quiet again; Jared can finally feel the day letting go of him, but there's one last thing he wants to make sure Jeff knows.
"What I said earlier, before all the yelling started," Jared says, softly. "I'm good, I swear."
"I know what top prize was today," Jeff says. "And I know what number I ran against your card before I closed up."
"I do, too.," Jared shrugs. "It was a lot, but c'mon, we both know the real money's in the endorsements."
"Jay--" Jeff sighs.
"No," Jared answers. "I know. Most of the time, I am the most boring guy on the tour. Ask anyone. It's a running joke. It's--even just being out there for a couple of years, I've seen it, guys who were on top yesterday, screamin' hot, and you can't find them a year later. I know it's a short-term gig--hell, it could end tomorrow, or the day after that."
"It could," Jeff says, and Jared hears a lot under his words, things that Jared really needs to figure out if this thing between them isn't going to implode somewhere down the line. But later, because Jared isn't going to push his luck any further tonight, especially not when Jeff's letting Jared shift closer. "You're doin' good, though, Jay."
"Thanks." Jared doesn't mean to, but he ends up with almost all his weight leaning on Jeff. Jeff doesn't seem to care. "So are you." Jeff half-snorts at that, but Jared ignores him. "We should sleep now," he says, a mammoth yawn sneaking up on him.
"Oh, you think so," Jeff mutters, hauling him to his feet. "You say that like I'm the one who went wandering in the first place." He steers Jared back toward the bedroom, and there's that whole unreal thing again, but Jared manages not to make an idiot of himself. He crawls under the sheet, and he can't help smiling when Jeff crashes down next to him.
He rolls close to Jeff, at the last second chickening out of spooning up against him. Jeff reaches back and drags him closer, though.
"Stay," Jeff murmurs, like he's fine saying it as often as Jared needs to hear it, and Jared falls asleep with one arm draped across Jeff and their legs tangled together.
***
It's been a looong couple of weeks, and it made my brain very happy to go back and revisit this Jeff and Jared, and to really figure out what they did and didn't say to each other, especially since I really fell head over heels for them as I was writing Caught Inside. Please to excuse the self-indulgence.
Thanks to
gracecourage for reading and flailing, and to without_me for her usual excellent read-through. I changed things after she blessed the draft, so any mistakes are definitely mine.