thalialunacy2 | Fic: 'What Are We Stealing?' - 4

Master Post
The Plan | The Set-Up | The Heist | The Payoff

THE PAYOFF

They make it back to Misha's in record time, despite Jared fully intending to go the speed limit, which itself is despite Jensen being unable to keep his hands in his own damn lap.

Jensen is fast out of the car, but Jared is faster. And practically throws him against the house, right beside the door, before Jensen can reach for the doorbell. "How long is this going to be?"

Jensen meets his gaze, eyes twinkling. "How long is what going to be?"

Jared makes a fierce noise low in his throat, and Jensen exhales. Which tips his jaw up just enough… Jared leans down and latches on, sucking and licking and feeling Jensen's fingers come up to clench reflexively in his hair. "Shit, Jay…" he hears Jensen grind out, and he can feel the words against his lips, and wants more, wants it all.

He lets the blood roar in his ears for a moment more, then pulls back.

Jensen's eyes are dark and huge, and his mouth is open, inhaling like he's forgotten how to do it. "Jared--"

"I have to go."

Wrinkles appear between Jensen's eyes so swiftly that Jared can't help but smile. He brings a hand up to cup Jensen's jaw. "I have to go home and get my things. And you need to do things here." He inclines his chin. "Party with your peeps."

But Jensen is shaking his head, holding on to him. "You're one of them, Jay. Chris and Chad, they knew, and the rest of them-- they'll know soon enough."

Jared looks at him fondly. "I need my toothbrush, Jensen."

Jensen looks at him like he's lost his mind. "Jared, there are going to be cops all over that house. And in three days I'll have thirteen million dollars. I'll buy you eight hundred tooth brushes."

Jared whistles low. "Jesus. Really?"

"Really. And Misha can retrieve anything you really end up missing." He places a hot, quick kiss on Jared's mouth. "Now—

“Now will you stop groping each other in full view of the street and get inside?” Misha’s voice is indulgent, but earnest, and Jared and Jensen chuckle, but don’t let go of each other. “Please? I don’t want my neighbors to think I’m running something unsavory, here.”

“Oh, well, of course. Anything for you, Professor,” Jensen says with a grin, and he pushes Jared towards the door.

They get slaps on the back from Misha and growls from Chris and the biggest wet willy ever from Chad. Who then introduces Jared around. Jared is charming and dimpled and Jensen watches, feeling his eyes crinkle with a smile. He knows he probably has the dopiest expression on his face, and for the moment, he doesn’t give a damn.

“Congratulations, guys,” Jared finally says to everybody with a grin. “I hear this is going to set you up for early retirement.”

“Hell yeah,” Chad exhorts. He kicks back onto the couch, beer in hand. “And I don’t even have to leave the country.”

Jensen coughs, and Jared looks at him curiously. “Excuse me, need to hit the head,” Jensen says quietly, and he gives Jared a smile that’s supposed to reassure him but totally doesn’t.

Jared looks at Chad after Jensen exits. Chad just shrugs at him. “Alright, then. I’ll be back, gentlemen.” He inclines his head at Sandy with a wink. “Sandy.”

He finds Jensen not in the bathroom, which doesn’t surprise him, but in the nursery, which does. Jensen’s staring out the window at the Sound. Shutting the door behind him (“Nothing unsavory!” he can hear Misha saying), Jared wants to approach him, but doesn’t want to accidentally break the moment.

So he breaks it on purpose. “I can’t even pick a ‘this isn’t the bathroom’ joke; they’re all too easy.”

Jensen doesn’t turn, but he smiles softly. “Your face is too easy.”

Jared laughs out loud. “Whoa there, partner, you sound like Chad.”

“Well, I’ve been in forced close proximity for a month now; can you blame me?”

Jared shakes his head. “He’s a dog. But he’s a good guy.”

“Yeah,” Jensen agrees quietly. “Yeah. He… he helped me get you back, afterall.”

Jared studies his drawn face. “Then what’s the problem?”

Jensen exhales. Then inhales again. “I have to go. I have to go far away and I have to stay there for a while, and I want to take you with me but I have no right, you said it yourself, I have no fucking right, to take you away from the places you live, the people you love, the opportunity to live a normal life, to find somebody you can love that isn’t a fuck up, to have—“ He stops, gestures uselessly at the crib. “Have babies. Have whatever you want. Have normal.”

Oh.

For real, Jared’s heart is going to jump right out of his chest at how much he loves this man.

He starts to walk towards Jensen, his voice quiet but sure. “What if I don’t want normal?”

Jensen finally, finally looks up at him.

“What if I want fucked up?” He makes a face. “Well, provided you’re not getting shot at, or in prison again, or, I don’t know, running coke for the Russian mafia—“

“Not lately.”

“--provided those things aren’t happening… I’ll take fucked up over normal any day, as long as it’s you.”

Jensen sucks in a breath as Jared stops just in front of him. “Jared…”

Jared can barely breathe, the air is so full of all these wants and needs. They stretch Jared thin.

Until he remembers he doesn't have to hold back anymore.

Well, then. Unsavory, it is.

He drops the pretense and grabs Jensen, both hands on Jensen’s perfect ass so Jensen has to grab onto Jared’s shoulder as Jared propels them both towards the nearest blank wall space.

"Jesus Christ--" Jensen manages.

Jared cuts him off with a hard press of his lips. "The name's Jared," he manages, because no time is a bad time for that joke. Then he's too busy kissing Jensen to joke anymore, too busy licking at those lips, licking past them to find warm wetness and that taste he's missed so fucking much.

Five years.

Jensen's legs press strongly against his sides, and Jared encourages it, the support of the wall allowing him to push in, pull Jensen around him, until their pelvises line up and-- "Oh yeah, that's it," he whispers into Jensen's mouth. "Fuck, I've missed you."

"Jared-- Jay--" Jensen's words are protesting but his mouth, his tongue is tangling with Jared's and his hands clutch at Jared's shoulder like he's ballast in a storm. "We-- we need to go--" he pants into Jared's mouth, even as his hips jerk into Jared's, forcing their cocks to push against each other through layers of clothing. "Fuck, fuck, Jay--"

"We will, Jen-- We--" Jared chokes off as Jensen's movement hits him just right. "Aw, Jesus, yeah, just--"

"Yeah, alright--" Jensen's biting at his jaw, nipping at his lips as best he can. "Just-- a little--"

Their breaths mingle hotly, shuddering across each other's cheeks and stubble and red-rimmed eyes, and Jared knows, knows this is going to be over soon. It's been too long. "Jen--" His movements grow erratic, as do Jensen's, and before long he's shuddering hard into Jensen, probably crushing him against the wall but he's pretty sure Jensen doesn't care, what with the way Jensen is cursing and shaking against him.

Jensen lets out a regretful sound as they ride the aftershocks. Jared huffs out a laugh. "What?"

Jensen smacks his lips together, swallows. "I had this whole seduction thing planned, you know?"

Jared grins. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. And it sure as shit didn't involve coming in our pants like teenagers." Jensen gingerly unhooks his legs from Jared and slides down, pulling a face. "Ew."

Jared laughs lightly and kisses him. "Good thing we're three days from boatloads of money, then."

Jensen looks at his watch, then groans. "Not if we miss our flight. Get cleaned up."

Jared raises an eyebrow. “Our flight?”

Jensen flushes more than he already was, and pushes at Jared. “I was optimistic, okay. Now get the fuck away from me.”

Jared reaches over and pats him on the head. "Yes, sir."

Jensen shoves him away with a grin.

“So where are we going?”

"Ever been to Newbury?"

"Connecticut?"

Jensen shakes his head. "England."

Jared’s eyebrow goes up. "Okay, now I’m just intrigued."

"Good." Jensen grins, and slaps him on the ass. "Now go on, get. I'll explain on the way."

Jensen doesn't explain after that, though, even, and Jared was totally sure that he would. They get halfway to the airport before Jared even gets an exasperated cuss word out of him, so he kind of gives up.

Kind of.

"So. England," he ponders aloud instead. "Land of good manners. Fish, chips, cup o' tea, Mary fucking Poppins."

Jensen looks at him, an evil smile on his lips. "Got it in one, actually."

Jared's so confused. "We're going because of the good manners?"

"So to speak."

Jared considers this, then says the first thing that comes to mind. "They won't be after our money in England?"

"You keep using this first person plural. What's with that? Last I knew, I got some papers that said--"

Jared gives half a thought to the cab driver, then decides not to and leans over Jensen as much as he can without actually climbing into his lap, a feat which would be impossible taking into consideration all the dimensions involved. "Jensen Ross Ackles, I would marry you again in two minutes flat if it were still legal, and you know it."

"I do?"

Jared smirks, then bats his eyelashes and makes his best puppy expression. "I mean, if you'll have me."

Jensen puts a hand over his face and pushes, groaning. And grinning. "Nobody else in their right mind would, so I guess, sure."

Jared whoops, then kisses Jensen. Just a little one-- okay, maybe two-- three, and okay, maybe some tongue…

He pulls away finally, and says lowly: "Besides, you never signed those papers."

Jensen flushes. "I didn't think you'd noticed."

Jared softens. "Jen. Jen, I…"

"No. None of that. You're not going to go all mushy on me right before a trans-Atlantic flight."

"No?"

"No. We'll have nine hours to kill in a very small box flying thirty thousand feet above the ground. We'll have time to talk then."

"Talk? I was planning on having several gin & tonics and joining the mile high club."

Jensen snorts a lot at that one. "Have you never been on an airplane? They can't even fit one of you in the bathroom, let alone you and a guest."

"I don't know, I'm surprisingly bendy."

Jensen's turn to smile. "I remember." He licks his lips. Jared's eyes track the movement, even in the dark of the cab. "Alright, fine, we'll give it a try."

"Yes!"

"Once."

"Whatever."

"And if you sprain something and are miserable the rest of the flight, it is so not my fault."

They do try. No one sprains anything, but no one comes, either. They just laugh, a lot, and get scolded by a smiling flight attendant, who winks at them then ushers them back to their seats.

"Well," he says to Jensen as they settle back in, "at least we can say we tried."

Jensen shakes his head with a smile. "Yeah, this is a story to tell the grandkids."

Jared lights up. "Can we?"

Jensen groans and shoves one of the tiny airline pillows at his face. "Shut up and go to sleep, you overgrown toddler."

And, surprisingly, Jared, after twitching and complaining and stealing Jensen's pillow and folding himself around Jensen in a complex pretzel-like formation, does as requested. For once.

Jensen presses a kiss to the side of Jared's neck, a small smile on his face, and follows.

Somewhere over the North Pole, Jared thinks he might've figured out the secret. Not to eternal happiness or anything--although he's pretty sure that's good barbeque and a steady supply of naked Jensen--but to who they're meeting in England.

But he almost doesn't want to hope, so he doesn't mention it. And if he's bouncing around a little more than expected while they go through Customs and get into a rental car, well, Jensen doesn’t comment. Just smiles. So maybe he knows Jared knows.

That thought makes Jared smile, too.

And holy shit, he's right.

The name on the mailbox is, indeed, 'Manners'.

He pulls Jensen back from where Jensen's about to knock on the door. "Jen. I can't." He runs out of words and just looks at Jensen, eyes wide.

Jensen's eyes crinkle. "Aw, Jay. It's okay. He knows the whole story."

Jared swallows. "And he doesn't hate me?"

"God, no." Jensen laughs a little wryly. "In fact, he kept telling me not to give up on your ass, that you'd come to your senses, and, I dunno, somehow figure out what had happened."

"Crazy-ass."

"Always have been, always will be," comes a raspy voice from the doorway.

"Holy shit," Jared breathes. "Kim." And he envelopes the admittedly frail body of his former mentor into the bear-hug of a lifetime. "I thought--" He chokes off. He squeezes Kim once more, then pulls back, his eyes wide and shining. "I thought you were dead."

"I know, kid, and I'm sorry about that, I really am." Kim spreads his hands in a 'what can ya do?' sort of gesture. "Had to get out, and in our business, there's only two ways of doing that."

"Die or die trying," Jensen quips, and Jared comes back to himself.

"Nobody in this immediately vicinity is allowed to die any time soon. Or, you know, ever." He looks sternly from Jensen to Kim then back again. "You got that?"

Kim salutes. Jensen chuckles, then cuffs the back of Jared's neck briefly. "Got it. Now get inside."

Kim hands them the check right away.

"What, no beer?"

Jared looks confused. "I didn't notice a clavichord in my carry-on."

Jensen and Kim both laugh. "No, you just got the jewels, princess."

Jared then just looks startled. "You slick son of a--"

"Don't insult my mama."

"Wouldn't dream of it. She cooks better'n you."

"Everybody cooks better'n me."

“Ain’t that the truth.”

Kim’s just shaking his head. “You two go get unpacked. The guest room’s small but the bed is big.” He says this without a leer or a hint of judgment, but Jared wants to blush anyways. It’s like being told it’s okay to have sex by your parents; it’s just weird.

But it’s also like being told by your parents to, well, go unpack. So they go and do just that. They put their clothes in ‘wardrobes’ and their toothbrushes in the ‘toilet’ (which still makes Jared giggle). All the furniture is so very English. Smaller, somehow, and Jared has to stoop more frequently than normal. And he normally has to stoop quite a lot.

But the bed will work. Oh, the bed will most definitely work.

Except that they’re at Kim’s house.

All this domestic shit is killing him. He’s tired, he’s horny as hell, and he has Jensen right there. He wants to whine something fierce by the time he’s finished unpacking. He turns to Jensen to perhaps—oh, who’s he kidding, definitely do so, but he’s stopped short by the look on Jensen’s face.

Jensen's staring at Jared's right hand, his cheeks pink. Jared flushes, too. "Yeah, I…" He reflexively reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, but Jensen pulls his wrist down. Stares at the ring on his third finger. The one Jared had unpacked and slipped back on five minutes ago.

"You said that you sold this," Jensen says quietly.

Jared nods. "I said that."

Jensen looks at him, his eyes intense. "Liar."

Jared looks right back. "Thief."

And that’s it, Jared doesn’t care if his grandmother and her sewing circle are in the next room listening, he’s going to fuck Jensen and he’s going to do it now --

“I’m off to the pub!” Kim calls through the house. “Quiz night, so don’t expect me back for a few hours. Get some rest, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

And the front door slams shut behind him. Loudly enough that they can hear it. Loudly enough that if it were anybody else, any other situation, Jared would think whoever had slammed it was really, really pissed at him.

However.

“Quiz night,” he says, a bit dumbly, to Jensen.

“Seems that way.”

“A couple hours.”

“Seems that way, too.”

“Well.”

“Well.”

“If you don’t stop me, I’m gonna kiss you right now. And then I’m gonna lay you out on that bed and show it things it has never seen before.”

Jensen grins, but there’s a fire in his eyes. He cocks his chin up a little in challenge. “Whatcha waitin’ on, Padalecki?”

He was waiting, it seems, as he cradles Jensen’s face in his hands and kisses him softly, then deeply, then thoroughly—“I rocked you back,” he’ll say later with a cheeky grin--for exactly that.

Jensen looks just like Jared remembers, and yet not. As he pulls off Jensen’s travel-worn clothes piece by piece, and Jensen pulls off his, between kisses, between muttered encouragements, and perhaps between a smile or two, he sees new scars. He sees new lines. He sees paleness where before there had been sun.

He touches each and every bit, new and old and in between. Rubs palms across expanse of chest, freckled muscles of arms. Kisses trails down his neck. Runs a tongue along his nipples then down his ribs. Noses under his arm until Jensen lurches upwards with a laugh.

Jensen smells just like Jared remembers, mostly. Time fades these things, and things smell different in foreign countries, no matter what. But the coarse hairs that shade under his arms, the wrinkled skin that creases where his thighs meet the base of his cock – These things don’t change. Jared inhales, then hums on the exhale, delighted.

When his lips close around Jensen’s dick, he inhales again, eyes shut. Reveling. Jensen’s fingers clutch at his hair, their grip along with his murmurs guiding Jared along as he relearns the path. He follows easily until Jensen is panting and sweating and thrusting into Jared’s mouth just this side of too much. Jared pulls back, mouthing at just the tip, and lets his finger travel down the soft, unique skin alongside the backside of Jensen’s ballsac and back to his hole.

Jensen shifts and murmurs something unintelligible, but Jared doesn’t need a translation. He knows this dance. And sure enough, in a few seconds, Jensen’s pushing into his hand the container of lube and condom they’d unpacked twenty minutes before. Jared swiftly puts the lube to use, then licks slowly up and down Jensen’s cock as he tucks a finger inside him.

Jensen feels just like Jared remembers-- warm, and tight, and Jared can hardly stand to wait, to work up to it, but Jensen is right there with him, muttering encouragement, nonsense, and occasionally insults as Jared takes what feels like hours preparing him.

Finally, when he can tell they’ve both had enough, he rolls on a condom and slicks himself up, then presses in. It’s a slow, rough push, until he’s fully encased, they’re fully connected, and the sensation threatens to swallow them both.

He rises up over Jensen, knees over shoulders and bodies as close as they can be, and starts to thrust, slowly, explorative at first. Jensen looks ridiculously gorgeous below him, his skin flushed, his eyes dark, and his mouth open from kisses and endearments and rough breathing.

Jared’s arms, he finds to his surprise, are shaking as he leans down for a kiss.

He tries to put it all into the kiss, all his love for now, regret for the last five years, hope for the future—But it’s a tall order, as the pleasure shooting from his cock starts to take over. But he’s nothing if not determined.

As their pace increases, Jensen’s hands are everywhere, rough calluses and smooth heels and Jared aches with the thought that he almost gave this up for good. He runs his lips up Jensen’s jaw to end at his ear, then breathes out as best he can: “These two are not two. Love has made them one.”

Jensen’s legs wrap impossibly tighter around him. “Jay—“

But Jared won’t stop, either the fucking or the reciting, because this, this he means more than anything else in the world. “Amo Ergo Sum…”

Jensen’s hands lock on him, one against his shoulders and one in his hair, holding him in place. “And by its mystery,” Jensen finishes, his voice low, rough, wrecked, “each is no less, but more.”

And the hand in his hair tightens, and Jared pulls back as he starts fucking into Jensen in earnest, their rhythm becoming sloppy, as do their snatched kisses. “Jen—“

“Yeah,” Jensen says back, breathless, and they both reach for Jensen’s cock, the dance continuing, and Jensen throws his head back at the contact. “Almost—“

“Look at me,” Jared grunts out. “Been too long.”

“Jay—“ But Jensen does as requested, and Jared is overwhelmed by the thread of emotion hanging between them, strong as ever. A few strokes later Jensen’s orgasm clutches his dick, and Jared’s subsequent orgasm chokes him, his breath stopping in his chest as the waves roll over him.

He’s not shaking anymore, he notes as he practically collapses onto Jensen after disposing of the condom. He can’t move at all.

Jensen can, however, because he shoves at Jared until they’re lumped into something resembling two spoons. Two manly spoons. Because there’s no rule about the bigger person being the bigger spoon, right? Right.

“I can’t believe you whipped out the Britten quote during sex,” Jensen says into Jared’s neck, sounding exhausted. “Possibly the gayest thing you’ve ever done.”

Jared’s grin is huge against the pillow. Tired, but huge. “No, I’d say fucking you up the ass is the gayest thing I’ve ever done.”

Jensen shoves the extra pillow into his face.

“Uh fwmuhp voo,” Jared says through the fabric.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.” Jensen’s grip around his waist tightens. “Now go the fuck to sleep.”

A few weeks later—too soon, in Jared’s opinion as he thinks of the huge bed in the flat he now shares with Jensen—the whole team shows up at Kim’s door en masse.

“You definitely got a group rate this time,” Jensen says to the lot of them.

Chad’s at the helm, and hands Jensen a box of graham crackers. “Cheers, fucker.”

Jensen looks at the graham crackers, non-plussed. But Jared lets out a whoop. Jensen raises an eyebrow at him. “What?” Jared says, grabbing them. “They’re the one thing I can’t find in this country. We’re so having s’mores later.”

And they do have s’mores later. Gathered around Kim’s woodstove, burning the hell out of their hands but enjoying every second.

“No,” Zach critiques Steve, “you have to let it brown, not burn the shit out of it.”

Steve leans in and puts his charred marshmallow right up in Zach’s face. “I like it like this. Then it’s all gooey on the inside.” And the leer is apparent.

“You’re disgusting.”

Chad pokes Jared, then nods at Steve and Zach. “You and Jensen should have a big gay double wedding with these two knobs. This is some Shakespearean hatesex shit, right here.”

Jared grabs him and headlocks him for a noogie. “Jensen and I are still married, ya idjit.”

Chad huffs and squirms his way out of Jared’s grip. “Well, okay, but Zach here—“

“Is already married,” Jensen says firmly.

Chad stops short. Hell, so does Jared. “He’s what?”

Zach laughs out loud, then stands and walks the few steps over to them. “The Js and I are in a three-person marriage. It’s legal somewhere. Sweden, I think.”

Chad’s mouth is open. “You’re shitting me.”

“Yes,” John’s voice comes up from nearby. “He is.” He grabs Zach around the waist and hauls him down for a kiss. “This patchouli-stink is all mine, boys. Sorry.”

“Oh my God, quit it with the PDAs,” Steve says from behind them. “And buy him a bath, then, with your newfound wealth.”

“Same time you buy some musical taste with yours,” Zach retorts. “I mean, really. Kenny Chesnutt at 6am? Any jury would declare it justifiable homicide.”

Their laughter echoes through the small house. They spend the next several hours arguing the merits of country music—avoiding black eyes, but barely—and basically comparing penis length by boasting of all the things they’re going to do with their newfound wealth.

It’s the best night Jensen’s had in a long time. Five years, of course, but perhaps even longer than that.

He’s musing on this, and probably staring absently into the fire, when Jared sits down next to him on the couch and Jensen’s immediately enveloped in an extra layer of warmth. Metaphorically and literally; Jared’s a huge human furnace. Jensen’s grateful on this chilly English night.

“Hey,” Jared says easily.

“Hey.”

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

Jensen turns to him. His eyes trail down to Jared’s lips, then back up again. “Oh, you know. Nothin’.”

“Nothin'?”

“Nope. Nothin’.”

“Well,” Jared says, and it’s then Jensen notices that the rest of the crew has gone off to their respective corners, “mind some company while you do it?”

Jensen feels a smile crease the corners of his face. “And who would this company be?”

Jared smiles. It's not his huge smile, his smile for everyone in the world to fall in love with him, but his smile for Jensen. “Lil ole me.”

“Oh, well, then, no," Jensen says, tucking his hand under Jared's. "I don’t mind at all.”

FIN

The Plan | The Set-Up | The Heist | The Payoff
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From:

ace-p.livejournal.com

Oh my god this was awesome!
I loved Ocean's 11, and you totally did the movie justice,but at the same time you made it all yours.
So now you can go on and write a J2 fic for Ocean's 12 and 13...*snickers*
Thanks for writing and sharing! :)
Cheers!

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The Story of My Life: Not Remembering the Story of My Life

Fic: 'What Are We Stealing?' - 4 - The Payoff

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