raeschae

Title: Don't Say Goodbye
Author:

raeschae
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1280

Summary: They’ve always known the ride had to end eventually, but now that Supernatural is over, the boys aren’t quite sure what happens next.

Thanks: To my beta,

neutraldeviance

A/N: Inspired by Skillet's Say Goodbye, from the album Comatose.

“I don't like it.”

Jared looks up from the bite of Moo Shoo he’s about to shovel into his mouth and raisses an eyebrow. “Don't like what?”

Jensen shrugs and tilts his beer bottle, eyes darting around the nearly-empty Vancouver house. Two weeks ago, they wrapped the last scene of Supernatural, and now they’re moving on. It’s weird, and surreal, and he doesn’t much care for the feeling in his gut. “All of it.”

Another eyebrow shoots up and Jared chews slowly as he lets his own eyes take in the final remnants of their life in Canada. “Dude, what the fuck?” he asks, reminding himself to lower his chopsticks.

“This is it, man,” Jensen elaborates finally, pushing his empty take out carton away to rest his hand against the hardwood floor. “Five motherfucking years, just,” he snaps his fingers and shakes his head. “Over.”

They’ve been playing the same game for the last couple of weeks. This is the last time we'll fill in the blank. It’s depressing, and Jared wishes that they didn't have to, but it’s reality. And hiding from it never makes it go away. This thing, though? Jensen's penchant for pointing out the things they’re never going to do here again? It’s starting to grate on Jared's nerves.

“It's not like we're never going to see each other again,” he huffs. That’s just ridiculous. They are too close to go from seeing each other nineteen hours out of the day to just never speaking again. He honestly isn’t sure what Jensen is getting so worked up over. “Dude, we do summer hiatus every year, ya know? Time apart isn't new for us or anything.”

“Not the same thing, man,” Jensen insists, draining the last of his beer before reaching toward the cooler at his left. He pops another bottle open and drinks half of that one, too. “Had to come back before. Don't have to now,” he nods and points the bottle toward Jared, as though he’s making some sort of sense.

Shaking his head, Jared drops his chopsticks into his carton and sits it on the floor in front of him. “Dude, we're not friends because we had to keep coming back. Are we?” He doesn’t mean to sound insecure or unsure, but that's sure as hell how the words sound to his own ears.

Jensen just shrugs his shoulders and takes another drink. “Nah, but man, I've done this so many fuckin' times now. Hard to believe it's gonna be different, ya know?” When Jared doesn’t respond, he goes on. “I mean, nobody loses track on purpose, Jay. Just.” Another break. Another swallow. “Used to have the same life. Now it's different. Never know where it goes from here.”

Sinking back against the wall, Jared exhales. The problem isn’t that Jensen is apparently living inside one of Chris's soul-crushing country ballads. The problem is that Jared looks to his left, where the stuff he’ll pack into his truck tomorrow is neatly stacked. And then he looks to his right, where Jensen's luggage is ready to be dragged out to the car for his flight in the morning. And reality punches him square in the fucking jaw.

He doesn’t know when he’s going to see Jensen again. They’ve been throwing vague ideas around for months, but nothing is set in stone. Neither has a clear idea of what they’re doing next. Jared’s leaving for some R&R in Texas after Jensen takes off for LA, and when they’ll have the time, or opportunity, to get together again is up in the air. It has to be. There’s just no way to coordinate their schedules.

Because they don’t have to be back in Vancouver in a couple of months. There’s no meeting up half-way through the summer for some con in Australia or the UK or wherever. There’s no guarantee that they’ll ever be in the same place at the same time again. Jensen is right. Life, as Jared has come to know it, is over. And he doesn’t so much like it, either.

He wants to crack a joke. Say something stupid. Fling an insult. Watch Jensen's face light up with amusement and affection. Hear that high-pitched laugh that means Jared has managed to stumble, usually unwittingly, into something that entertains him until he just can’t contain it any longer.

Instead, he’s staring at the crown molding over the fireplace and wishing to hell they could both just find a series that they love and could commit to for another five or six years. “Time's your flight tomorrow?” he asks, voice low and heavy.

“Eleven. Car's comin' at eight thirty,” Jensen answers in the same tone.

As if on cue, the tell-tale beep of the watch Jared bought Jensen a few years ago sounds. Nine o'clock. Less than twelve hours. “Jensen,” Jared mutters.

He doesn’t have time to finish the sentence before he feels the brush of ankles against his thighs. Pulling his eyes away from the ceiling, he watches Jensen lower himself to straddle Jared's legs. “No,” Jensen shakes his head and rests his finger over Jared's lips. “Just. Don't say anything, okay?”

There are a million things running through his head, a thousand questions, and a hundred thoughts he wants to share. Jensen is always better at checking his emotions at the door, at putting on the face and going through the motions. Jared knows damn well that the man sitting on him now is the only one capable of keeping him tethered to the moment. And Jensen's request is the only thing that keeps him from asking, What am I supposed to do without you?

Strong hands cradle his face, and Jensen's lips pull Jared's into a gentle, tentative kiss. It isn’t the first time, but it could be the last, and Jared isn’t going to waste it by pulling back and asking what this one means.

Is it desire? Hunger? Need? Reassurance? Comfort? A promise?

In the end, he decides that it doesn’t really matter. They’ll both begin new chapters in their lives tomorrow. The roles that they’ve played in each other's stories will change. But that won’t affect the parts they’ve played for the last five years. Nothing that happens after tonight will change what they've already shared. What they mean to each other.

After what feels like an eternity, and only seconds at the same time, Jensen pulls away from Jared's kiss and makes his way to his feet. Extending a hand, he nodds over his shoulder. “Come on.” Raising questioning eyes, Jared can’t help smiling when Jensen does. “Let's make it an early night.”

There’s no bed in the room that, for a few more hours, is Jensen’s. Just an air mattress on the floor now, the walls and floors naked and empty for the next tenant to fill with his own personal touches. They don’t talk about it again, both holding fast to Jensen's 'don't say anything' rule. Instead, they reminisce with tongues and soft moans, and leave reminders with fingers and gasps. .

Neither knows where the road will take them, but they both hope that it will lead back to each other eventually.