#oh yeah is there a way to separate the two timothys when tagging?

[ryan1014n2]

Traintober Day 24: Odd Jobs

I love how Thomas is just sent to do whatever miscellaneous work needs to be done whenever his branch line is down for repair. Like in Tale of the Brave! So Timothy's here!

[spencereliotwinchester]

Under the Mistletoe

Title: Under the Mistletoe

Word Count: ~8.4k 

Summary: Moving on is difficult and sometimes includes uprooting to a new state thousands of miles away. Just before Christmas. 

This fic takes place currently, 2022, but ages have been slightly adjusted.

Jensen is 45, Christian is 45, Jared is 38

Rating: Teen, 13+ 

Tags: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins (past), Christian Kane, Padalecki Family, Genvieve Cortese, Timothy Hutton, meet-cute, floof/fluff, schmoop, slight angst, loss, rom-com, Christmas, Alternate Universe

A/N:  Merry Christmas @cleighwrites! This was written for @spnfanficpond Secret Santa, please enjoy. Also I don’t know how it got to be this long, but, I’m proud of it!

Thank you to my beta @mariekoukie6661 

Divider by @rauko-creates

Banner art by yours truly

Main Character(s): Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki

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Tags: 

@hoboal87 @writethelifeyouwant @mrswhozeewhatsis @negans-lucille-tblr @synmorite @rauko-is-a-free-elf

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“Jensen, what the hell, man?” Christian sighed loudly from the kitchen.

“What?” Jensen grunted, shoving a large cardboard box into a corner; there were only twenty or so more boxes to bring in. 

“Wanna tell me why, after we’ve moved two-thousand miles from home, there’s still a fucking check for thirty thousand dollars stuck to our fridge via gummy bear magnet? I thought you deposited it!” Christian had moved into the doorway and was waving his hands around with annoyance. 

“Yeah, it’s on my list of shit to do,” Jensen groused, turning away and trudging out into the snow to get another box from the moving van. 

Christian was his very best friend; they’d been best friends since second grade, roommates in college, then just never really separated after that, but sometimes Christian just didn’t know when to let something go and Jensen was irritated. He shoved some boxes to the back door of the van to make them easier to grab; Jensen rolled his eyes as Christian’s form came into view. 

“Dude, please, we moved here to ‘get away from everything’ as you said. ‘Start over.’ Remember what the therapist guy said? You need to make that deposit so you can fully heal. The. Check. We’re going to the bank tomorrow and you’re gonna deposit it,” Christian begged. 

“Can you just drop it?! We’re supposed to be unpacking!” Jensen snapped. He took a deep breath. “Please, Chris, drop it. Let’s unpack the truck that way I’m not doing everything by myself when you go home for Christmas.” 

Christian gave him a pitying look, blue eyes filled with sadness, but he said nothing, just grabbed two boxes and walked out of sight. Jensen shoved a few more boxes to the door, feeling heavy and hollow at the same time. As Jensen went to jump down from the van, he slipped on the melted snow from his boots and tumbled out into the snow. He swore up a storm as he tried to stand, only to slip and fall again. 

“Jeez! You okay? Let me help you up.” 

Jensen grabbed the offered hand and stood up, looking to see who had helped him. The voice clearly wasn’t Christian’s; he was also surprised that he had to look up to see the guy’s face. The man had about four inches on him and Jensen had to admit that he was really attractive. He had shaggy hair tucked behind his ears and a warm, dimpled smile surrounded by some light scruff. 

“Thanks,” Jensen smiled. “I’m Jensen. Jensen Collins.”

“Jared Padalecki. Uh, here,” he held out a saran covered plate to Jensen, who looked at him questioningly. “Oh, my Ma made a welcome plate for you guys when she saw the moving van. Had me bring it over. Your beard is completely covered in snow by the way.”

“Thanks again!” Jensen laughed. “Want to come in? I need a break and something to drink... And dry off my beard, apparently.” 

“Sure!” Jared said brightly, then he placed the plate on top of one of the boxes and picked it up. Jensen started to protest, but Jared was already halfway up the path. Jensen grabbed another box and followed to the two-story cottage he and Christian had bought. 

The cottage was made of stone and was on the larger side, so Jensen and Christian could each have a bedroom and office; there were two spare bedrooms in case friends or family came to visit, too. The boxwood bushes that lined the front of the house were snow covered and the fire that Christian had started when they arrived was glowing through the bay window. 

“Chris!” He yelled, setting the box next to Jared’s in the living room. Jensen beckoned Jared toward the kitchen; Jared settled himself at the island while Jensen started digging through boxes for cups. He yelled again, “Chris!” 

“What in the hell’re you hollerin’ about?” Christian asked exasperatedly when he stepped into the kitchen a minute later; he was tying a bandana into a headband to keep his hair out of his face. He looked from Jared to Jensen, an eyebrow quirked up. 

“Jared, this is Christian; Chris, Jared. His Ma made us some snacks and I want a drink. Where are the damn coffee cups?” Jensen asked, leaning against the counter and throwing his hands up in defeat. He took a hand towel and scrubbed it through his bushy facial hair. 

Christian grabbed a folder from the counter and flipped through some pages. Jensen started unwrapping the plate Jared had set on the island. There were cookies, peanut clusters, chocolate covered pretzels, some kind of dried meat, and crackers. When he looked over his shoulder, Christian had started digging through one of the boxes.

“That’s venison jerky,” Jared supplied, reaching forward and snatching a piece. 

Christian set three coffee mugs next to Jensen and grabbed a piece of venison with a cracker. 

“You know, you can look through the list of boxes, too. It’s why I made that,” Christian complained as he chewed. “A whole list of what’s inside each box with pictures and box numbers. Whatcha plannin’ on putting in these cups?” 

“Chris, where’s the coffee pot?” Jensen asked innocently. Jared snorted. 

“You are so damn useless.” Christian snarked, going back to the folder and boxes. 

“So, uh, where’d you move from?” Jared asked curiously, looking at Jensen. Jensen was taken aback by how expressive his eyes were.

“Denver. We’re from Texas originally though. Went to Denver for college and then just settled in a bit,” Jensen answered evenly, hoping Jared wasn’t going to ask why they’d moved. 

“What made you decide to pick up and come out to Mass? That’s a huge change.” No luck. 

“I got a nice job offer out here,” Christian interjected; Jensen breathed a sigh of relief.

“Really? What d’you do?” 

“I’m in linguistics and translation,” Christian answered proudly, setting the coffee pot up to brew. 

“Not by chance at McCarthy International?” Jared asked excitedly, leaning forward. 

“How’d you know that?” Jensen and Christian asked at the same time. 

“I work there, too. My manager said they finally hired another translator named Christian. Shot in the dark,” Jared laughed. “Small world! We’ll be coworkers!” 

“Sounds great, man,” Christian grabbed the coffee mugs and turned to the coffee pot. “What languages do you speak?”

“Mostly French and Italian. You?”

“German and Russian.”

“Great, we’re desperate for a German translator. What about you, Jensen? What do you do?” Jared turned his attention to Jensen, smiling warmly. Jensen could see flecks of honey golden in his eyes.

“I’m a book editor for Ackles-Collins Publishing, so I can pretty much work from anywhere.” 

Jared tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. Jensen could see the question swirling through Jared’s brain. 

“Jenny’s been followin’ me around since second grade,” Christian ribbed Jensen as he set down steaming coffee mugs. “We have sugar, no milk though.”

“Sugar would be great, thank you!” Jared said, pulling one of the coffee mugs toward himself. 

“Lies, man, lies. Don’t believe anything Chris says, ever!” Jensen told Jared jokingly, pulling one of the mugs to him. He silently thanked Christian for interrupting. 

A phone started ringing and all three of them reached into their pockets. It was Jared’s. He answered, then there was a lot of ‘mm-hmms’ and ‘uh-huhs’, followed by a ‘sure, ma’ as he poured what Jensen thought was an excessive amount of sugar into his coffee. He hung up and grinned, eyes shining, like he knew a secret. 

“That was my ma, she thought I got lost,” he said jovially and Jensen thought it sounded fantastic, strong and confident. “My family is throwing a big Christmas dinner party - weekend after next. The 17th. She instructed me to invite you two and not take no for an answer. Would you come?”

“Oh, jeez- uh-”

“Well-”

Jensen and Christian both started stuttering at the same time. Jared’s face fell slightly and he held up his hands. That puppy dog look should be illegal, Jensen thought. He could get away with murder.

“Hey, if you guys are worried, we’re all really accepting here, I’m gay myself,” Jared placated. “You don’t have to worry about anyone giving you grief.”

Christian’s jaw fell open and his eyes bugged out of his head and Jensen gasped in surprise, eyes widening. Christian spoke first, while Jensen doubled over in his chair cackling. 

“We’re not,” he indicated to himself and Jensen, “together. We’re basically brothers. I’m leaving that Friday to visit my family for Christmas, but Jensen’ll be there.” 

“I will?” Jensen asked, straightening up and raising his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, you will,” Christian nodded, smirking wickedly. “Go. Make friends. Jared, can you make sure he doesn’t hole himself up and become a recluse while I’m gone?”

“Gladly, I’ll even walk you over myself.” there was that smile again. He changed the subject, “I saw a few guitar cases in the living room, who plays?”

“We both do, actually. Since high school,” Jensen explained. “We played in bars before we were even twenty-one!” 

“What kind of music?” Jared prompted. 

“Country and rock. We mostly play acoustic only since it’s just us,” Christian answered, sipping his coffee and leaning his back against the counter. “Brawler’s is where Jens met his first ever boyfriend. They were alllllllll over each other that night.” 

Jensen made a disgusted noise and Jared snorted loudly into his coffee. “Christopher Michael! God, we just met him and you’re waving my dirty laundry around.”

“Now, now, no need for full names, Jensen Ross,” Christian admonished playfully. 

“Anyway,” Jared drew out the word, standing up, “I should definitely be off before Ma comes looking for me!” 

He made a move to turn, but stopped quickly and looked at Jensen.

“What’s your phone number?” Jared asked, big hopeful eyes holding Jensen’s attention. “You know, so I can give you all the details for the party?”

He watched Jared type the numbers into his phone, then heard his own phone chirp. 

“There ya are! Don’t be afraid to say ‘hi’ if you want.” Jared gave him a wink.

Jensen watched Jared’s retreating back as he left, mind caught up in Jared’s eyes and lips. Christian waved a hand in front of his face and waited for Jensen to meet his eyes. He gave Jensen a very pointed look, blue eyes piercing him. Then, shifted his eyes, indicating the doorway where Jared had disappeared. 

“We should get the rest of the boxes inside,” Jensen sighed and turned to walk out to the van. 

That evening, Jensen dug through a box in his room and pulled out a scrapbook. He got himself comfortable on his bed, back up against the headboard and scrapbook sitting in his lap. Jensen stared at the green cover.

He tipped the book open to his favorite page and stared at an 8x10 of his commitment ceremony. Big bubble letters and numbers in Misha’s handwriting said March 17, 2001. Jensen’s arm was slung around Misha’s shoulders, a giant smile spread across his face and Misha was leaning into Jensen, a toothy grin on his face and blue eyes sparkling with joy. Champagne was spraying all around them thanks to Christian who was on the right side of the picture, head thrown back in laughter and the champagne bottle in his hand. 

Jensen traced Misha’s face, a mixture of happiness and sadness surrounding him. They all looked so young. Twenty-four years together, twenty of them after a commitment ceremony, six after their official marriage ceremony, and for Jensen that would never be enough. He turned the pages slowly, watching their lives together, then as Misha began looking sickly; Misha’s eyes never lost their sparkle though. Jensen stopped again at his second favorite picture, smiling sadly. 

They’d hired a photographer; well, Christian had. They’d practically carried Misha into the yard and onto a blanket. The sun was shining brightly, but the temperature was perfect. They were sitting cross-legged, Misha pressed into his side, eyes closed and a soft smile on his face. Jensen’s head was resting on top of Misha’s and his eyes were closed, too, soaking in the moment. That had been their last anniversary together. A tear snuck down his cheek and he wiped it away quickly. 

“Jens! Let's go out and ex-” the door to his room was thrown open, startling him, and Christian’s words died out.

They stared at each other for a solid minute before Christian whispered, “oh, Jen,” and climbed up onto the bed, settling himself down next to Jensen. He threw an arm around Jensen’s shoulders and tugged him close. After a while sitting in silence, Jensen chuckled.

“Remember when Misha proposed?” Jensen asked, resting his head on Christian’s shoulder.

“How could anyone forget that?” Christian laughed. “He talked me into helping build that stupid gummy bear wonderland for you AND the freaking firework pyrotechnics.”

“And Steve choreographed the dance and singing and sound set up, jeez,” Jensen reminisced fondly. Christian was still chuckling. “You nearly killed us all and set the gazebo on fire!”

“And he talked me into building three gingerbread houses? Never again. Took four tries before we figured out how to set the stupid frosting so the damn thing didn’t fall apart.”

“Then the freak thunderstorm that rolled in from the mountains, and you, me, Misha, and Steve took cover in that little shed,” Jensen was fully laughing, now. 

“Oh, hell. ‘What do you wanna marry me for anyhow?’” Christian mocked Jensen’s voice. Then dropped his voice to mimic Misha’s. “‘So I can kiss you anytime I want.’ Fuckin’ Sweet Home Alabama rom-com bullshit.” 

“Hey,” Jensen gasped out, unable to control his laughter, “that was the first movie we watched together.” 

They chuckled together for a bit until the laughter died out and they sat in a comfortable silence again. One of the things Jensen appreciated most about Christian was the never-wavering support he gave. Jensen’s mind wandered along memories until his brain settled on a tall man with shaggy hair and dimples. For the first time since Misha died, Jensen felt a tug of attraction, of want; it felt weird and good with a hint of guilt, like he was having an affair. His brain told him logically that no, it wasn’t an affair, but his heart couldn’t help but disagree. 

“What’s stopping you?” Christian asked solemnly, like he’d read Jensen’s mind. 

“It’s illogical, I know I shouldn’t feel like this,” Jensen said, matching Christian’s tone, “but I feel like I’m having an affair. I feel guilty. I feel like I’m leaving him behind. I’ve been lonely; I mean, I have you, but it’s not the same, it’s I-miss-having-someone-next-to-me-in-bed type lonely, but I’m afraid that I won’t be able to love or… I just feel like I’m replacing him if I go out with another man.”

Jensen looked over to Christian, head still resting on his shoulder. After thirty-five years of brotherhood friendship, they could read each other like a book. Christian was looking up to the ceiling, pensieve and calculating, no doubt choosing his next words carefully. This was the first time since Misha died that he’d even brought up the idea of Jensen dating again, which he appreciated more than Christian would ever know. Steve, Jason, and a few others had all said at one time or another that Jensen should ‘get back out there’ and ‘you need to get laid’ among other things.

Christian huffed once before crawling out of the bed and striding purposefully out of the room. Jensen raised an eyebrow, but waited patiently for Christian to come back. When he did, he had a thin document box under his arm. Jensen threw him a questioning look, but Christian ignored him, placing the box at the foot of the bed and opening it. He pulled out a sturdy leather portfolio. Flipping it open, he cleared his throat, standing straight with his shoulders back; he began to read.

“To my wonderful, handsome, loving husband. Twenty-four years went by in the blink of an eye. I ask this of you, my love, as my last wish: Continue to live your life with strength and love. Speak my name with joy and fondness as you always have. Do not dwell on my death forever. And the most important - Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened. Now a poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye:

‘Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die.’”

Jensen’s eyes were blurry with tears and his nose was clogged. The piece of paper Christian was reading from was a thick parchment with Misha’s handwriting carefully and clearly written out. Nearly three pages that he’d instructed Christian to read out before he delivered his own eulogy for Misha. There was a lot more, but Christian put the portfolio back in its box and sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed facing Jensen. Jensen took in huge, gulping breaths and when he quieted, Christian spoke again. 

“I’m not going to tell you to get over it and move on, I’m not going to force you into the dating world, it’s not my place. Or anyone’s for that matter, except you. Misha wanted you to be happy, though, and Jared seems like a good person to test out the dating world with. If you hate it, I’m not gonna press the issue, you can hide away and become a miserable pessimistic asshole like me.” 

“Harsh,” Jensen sniffed. Then fondly, “Thanks, Chris.”

“Anytime,” Christian said affectionately. “Now, that’s enough chick-flick mushiness. You good?”

“Yeah, Chris, I’m fine.” 

“Good,” Christian nodded, satisfied. He got up and headed out of the room, but then stopped in the doorway. He turned, “Have you eaten anything today?”

Jensen ducked his head and grinned sheepishly. Christian made a noise of annoyance. 

“I’ll scrounge something together,” he huffed. “Now, text Jared and see where it goes.” 

“Bossy.”

“Prick.” 

“Cocksucker!”

“You wish! You’re just jealous cause I never wanted to suck yours or anyone else’s.” 

Jensen barked out a laugh and he heard Christian snort from the stairway as he plodded downstairs to the kitchen. Jensen grabbed his phone from the nightstand and stared at it nervously. He unlocked it and went to his messages, clicking on Jared’s name. 

Hey. Long time, no talk.

Well that was cringey. It turned from “delivered” to “read” and Jensen’s heart thumped hard.

I know, it’s been forever! Lol. 

Ma is stoked you’re coming to the party. 

That’s great. I’m looking forward to it. Are you staying with your parents? 

Yeah, I have an apartment in town, but near the holidays everyone stays with our parents. Family time and all that. It’s me, my brother Jeff, and my sister Megan. Meg and Jeff live in Providence and drive in. 

It's awesome that you all get together like that. Sounds like a good time! Or do they drive you crazy? 

Hahaha. A bit of both. What about you? Chris - or should I call him Christian? - said he was going home for Christmas, but you’re staying? 

Ah, yeah. My parents love me, but they aren’t exactly accepting of ‘my lifestyle’. My sister Mackenzie lives in Portland with her family and Josh lives in Venice, Italy. The last time we all got together was in like 2005ish… Didn’t go very well. Chris’ Mama invited me to theirs, but I just decided to stay here and get settled. I don’t think he minds one way or another what you call him. How far away is town by the way? 

Oh, it’s only about a fifteen-minute drive. Boston is around an hour depending on traffic. I’m sorry, it must be hard not seeing your family :( I came out my senior year, but my parents have been very supportive. Is that why you moved to Denver? 

Yeah. I wanted to get out of Texas and Chris was accepted at University of Denver. I applied and got accepted, too. Off we went. I studied English and Literary Arts as well as some business. Where did you go to college?

Boston U. Just studied business and got hired at my dad’s company when I graduated. I wanted to ask earlier, but you said you worked at Ackles-Collins, do you own it?

I’m part owner, yeah, but I hang back mostly. I like being an editor more than anything. 

Would you like to hang out the day after tomorrow? I was going to go into town and do some Christmas shopping. It’s always more fun going with someone, y’know?

Sure I think I’d like that. Chris is calling me for dinner, so I’ll talk to you later? We’ll finalize the plans.

Definitely :) 

On Monday at ten-thirty, Jensen was sitting in an armchair near the fire in the living room, Christian sitting on the couch opposite. They were casually playing guitar together, but Jensen couldn't play a chord to save his life at the moment. Jared would be arriving any minute to pick him up to go shopping. 

“Relax, everything’s gonna be great,” Christian encouraged, putting his guitar down. “Just get out, go have some fun with Jared, and pick up a real nice present for me.”

Christian winked at him, smiling. Jensen rolled his eyes and put his guitar down, too. He’d decided on a worn pair of boot cut jeans, and a thick green zip-up hoodie. He’d set out a dark green fleece-lined ear-flap beanie, touchscreen gloves, and his favorite dark gray wool peacoat that had an extra wool inner lining. 

They both turned when they heard a car pull into the driveway. Jensen stood and quickly put on his hat, coat, and gloves, shoving his keys in the pocket of his coat. A horn honked. When Jensen turned, Christian was opening the front door for him. 

“Good day, sire, your carriage awaits,” Christian said in a ridiculous accent, bowing with a flourish. Jensen couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re an idiot,” Jensen snickered as he walked to the door. Christian put his hands on Jensen’s shoulders and fake-sniffed as though he were overcome with emotion. 

“My big boy, going out on a date. I’m so proud!” He exclaimed sarcastically.

“Oh, shut up!” Jensen retorted half annoyed and half amused, slapping Christian’s arms back and walking out the door. “I’ll see you later.” 

“I won’t wait up!” Christian cackled at his own joke and swung the door shut. 

The drive into town with Jared was filled with soft music and conversation about their favorite music and movies. The town was very small, with just a couple blocks of various shops right in the center. To Jensen, the town looked like it had been pulled directly from a Thomas Kinkade painting; there were even two horse-drawn carriages giving people rides.  

“If you want, we can just start down one side and come back on the other. If we see a shop we want to stop in, then we do?” Jared asked as he turned off the car. 

“Sounds good to me,” Jensen smiled back. 

Jared was wearing a black and tan windbreaker parka that had a faux fur lined hood and a slouchy purple beanie. Jensen couldn’t help but notice the way Jared’s jeans outlined his ass as he caught up to walk next to Jared. They passed a clothing boutique, a craft shop, and a framing store before they came upon a window that made Jensen stop to look. Jared stopped, too, and told him that it was a local music shop called ‘Hutton’s Music House’.

“Let's go in!” He exclaimed, taking Jensen’s hand and pulling him to the door; a bell tinkled when they stepped in. A girl looked up from the counter and smiled, greeting Jared by name. “Hey, Gen! Jensen, this is my friend Gen, we took a bunch of classes together in college. Gen, this is Jensen, he’s new in town.” 

“I never would have graduated without Jared,” she laughed, scrunching her nose. “Business was not for me! Welcome to town, Jensen. Anything I can help you find?” 

“Jensen’s a musician, so I thought we’d take a look around,” Jared piped up. 

“It’s good to meet you, Gen,” Jensen nodded. “Do you have replacement pickups? And can you show me your guitar strings?” 

Gen showed them over to a case on the opposite wall that contained a medium-sized collection of pickups ranging from acoustic, electric, bass, and even a few for violins. Jensen scanned them carefully and Jared said he was going to look at the guitar room. 

“Anything particular you’re looking for? We have more in the back that are for older and specialized models and we can order as well,” Gen informed him. 

“Well, my roommate and I have been meaning to replace the pickups on his 1956 Fender Strat, but we’ve been so busy the last couple years it just hasn’t happened.” 

“Woah, 1956? And he still plays it?” Gen asked incredulously. 

“Not very often, we only use it for recording, otherwise it’s in a custom protective case. We’re finally going to be able to record again, so we’ll need it.”

“Hang on, I’ll check it out. Are you wanting, like, originals?” She asked, walking back to the counter. 

“Doesn’t have to be, last time I think we used Klein,” Jensen said, meandering around the room slowly. “Don’t worry too much about it, I can order them if I need to.”

Gen typed on a desktop computer that looked like it was from 1997. Jared stepped back in and dragged Jensen into another room of the shop, walls lined with guitars of all kinds as well as other instruments and accessories. Jensen was impressed, the place had seemed so small from outside. They strode around the room together, Jared asking Jensen about nearly every guitar not unlike a curious child. Jensen answered amusedly to the best of his ability; Jensen stopped them when they reached a section of wall dedicated to strings for all types of instruments. He explained each type of guitar string to Jared, along with the sounds they produced and various uses until Gen came up beside them. 

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” she interjected, excitedly. “I have some good news.” 

“Yeah?” Jensen straightened and turned to Gen, interested. 

“I called the owner, Tim, and he’s on his way in. Apparently, he has an unopened set that was ordered and never picked up last year.”   

“Oh, he didn’t need to make a special trip or anything,” Jensen sputtered.

“It’s okay,” Gen insisted. “He lives upstairs.” 

There was a loud bang and out of a door labeled “Employees Only” came an older man with slightly disheveled dark hair wearing blue jeans and a green sweater. He strode quickly to them, holding a hand out to Jared, then Jensen. 

“I’m Tim Hutton, owner. Gen said you had a 1956 strat?” He resounded. “I absolutely had to come down and meet ya. Not everyday you hear about a guitar like that!” 

“Ah, well, it's actually my roommate's. His dad passed it down to him when we started recording our own music,” Jensen explained.

“Wow-oh-wow. I would love to see that!” Tim exclaimed. 

“I can show you some pictures,” Jensen pulled his phone and scrolled through his photo albums, “but we never take it anywhere. It’s only used for recording and we do all the maintenance ourselves.” 

Jared moved to look over Tim’s shoulder at the pictures Jensen showed. They were taken quite a few years ago during a recording session and were mostly of Christian, a few with Jensen, and two with Christian, Jensen, Steve, and Jason. 

“That is a gorgeous guitar,” Tim said in awe. “Anyway, I brought down the pickups for you. Is there anything else we can find for you?” 

“Did you still want strings?” Jared asked. 

“Oh yeah,” Jensen turned back to the wall. He pointed to a brand called ‘Aurore Specialty’ that only had one each of acoustic and electric, and said questioningly, “I’ve never heard of this brand before.” 

“They’re local,” Tim boasted. “I helped get the business going and I help with marketing. My sister and her husband actually make them.” 

“Oh the only place I’ve heard of doing that in the US is in LA,” Jensen marveled. 

“And they’re mostly produced on order only,” Tim continued, sounding like a salesman. “I keep a couple guitar ones in the shop so we can offer them up to new customers. Listen, I’ll give you a set on the house since you’re buying these pickups. Try ‘em out and see if you like ‘em!” 

As they made their way to the register, two books next to each other caught his eye called ‘Mosh Potatoes’ and ‘Eat Like a Rockstar.’ They were recipe books. Jensen chuckled and grabbed both of them; Christian loved to cook, these would surely bring a laugh. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jared giving him an admiring look, a lovable smile plastered across his face. 

After they left the guitar shop, Jensen carrying a paper bag with the pickups, books, and a set of acoustic strings, Jared asked if they could go to a bookstore called ‘Bound Around.’ It was unlike any book shop Jensen had ever seen before. It smelled like an old book, slightly musty, and there was no rhyme, reason, or organization for where the books were. Multiple piles of books were just stacked precariously from the floor to chest height and the bookshelves also had books stacked horizontally instead of vertically. Jared quickly disappeared into the maze while Jensen slowly picked his path through the stacks. Five minutes later, Jared appeared at his side, grinning widely. 

“Found a book for my mom,” he said breathily, holding up a copy of ‘The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo.’

“Oh, that book definitely keeps your attention,” Jensen remarked. “Very Marilyn Monroe-esque.” 

“You’ve read it?” Jared asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“Yeah,” Jensen said lightheartedly. “I helped edit the first draft as a favor. The chief editor, a good friend of mine, who was assigned the book had to assign it to his brand new editor because they were flooded with work. He called me and asked if I had time to coach and mentor the new kid.”  

“Any recs for my sister? She loves a good horror thriller,” Jared’s eyes sparkled hopefully. Jensen thought for awhile, walking around and eyeing books. 

“Hmm,” he pulled a book from the middle of a stack, quickly stabilizing it with his other hand so the whole thing didn’t crash to the ground. “I read it in high school randomly. I really like reading, so I’d go find random books to read. I doubt she’d have read it. It’s a thrilling horror-type book.” 

“Sounds good to me!” Jared took the book titled ‘Skin’. “Do you need anything here or want to look around more?” 

“No, I think I’m good. I’m actually getting hungry. You?” 

“Food sounds great to me! We can drop this at the car and go to Radial,” seeing Jensen’s raised eyebrow, Jared added, “a local café.”

At the register, Jensen was surprised to see a till that looked like it belonged in a museum, with mechanical buttons and even a pull handle. Jared asked the elderly man if he could see a book resting on a shelf behind him. The worker turned without speaking and grabbed a leather-bound book, setting it on the counter for Jared; he eyed Jared suspiciously. Jensen watched as he opened the book carefully, almost reverently. It was a posh leatherbound copy of ‘The Great Gatsby’ and it was signed by the illustrator. Jensen watched, infatuation blooming in his chest.   

“‘The Great Gatsby’ is my favorite,” Jared said, handing the book back, a wistful look on his face, then gave the man the two books he was going to purchase. 

When they exited the shop, Jensen stopped abruptly, pretending to search his pockets. Jared looked at him in concern.

“I need to run back in,” Jensen said quickly. “I think I set my phone down by accident.”

“Okay.”

Jensen rushed back into the bookstore and over to the counter. The old man squinted at him with disdain.

“I’d like to buy that leather bound book my friend was looking at,” Jensen explained, pointing behind the man. 

“Must be a good friend,” his voice was wheezy and high-pitched. “You realize it’s a leatherbound, signed copy? It’s quite expensive.”

“I don’t mind,” Jensen huffed, pulling out his credit card. 

“I prefer cash,” he sneered. “Extra charge for card payments.” 

“It’s fine, charge me whatever, just hurry before he gets suspicious and comes back in, please!” 

After signing the receipt, Jensen tucked the book in his bag from the music store and joined Jared outside. They had a great lunch talking about books they’d read and their opinions. Throughout the entire meal, they both saw the other staring multiple times, looking away quickly when they’d been caught. It turned out they had very similar taste in books and Jensen learned that Jared led a monthly book club. They didn’t meet in December, but would meet in January and Jared asked if he’d like to join. Jensen tentatively agreed as they walked back to Jared’s car. 

When Jared pulled into Jensen’s driveway, there was an awkward moment where Jensen was afraid Jared was going to lean over and kiss him. He didn’t think he was ready for something like that at all, so he thanked Jared for the good time and bade him a quick goodbye. 

Inside, he could hear loud thumping music coming from upstairs. As Jensen stripped his outdoor gear and made his way upstairs to his bedroom, he recognized Luke Bryan booming from Christian’s room. He hid the presents he’d bought under his bed and laid down on top of the covers to think.

He tried to sort out the mixture of complex emotions swirling around his brain. Attraction, admiration, optimism mixed with fear, guilt, and uncertainty. Not to mention the underlying feelings of disloyalty and insecurity. At some point, the music abruptly stopped, but he was so caught up in his thoughts he didn’t notice. In the end, Jensen ended up passing out from sheer tiredness, still fully clothed on top of the blanket. 

Jensen stared into the full-length mirror on his closet door, barely recognizing himself and feeling out of sorts; it had been a long time since he’d needed to dress up for an event. Jensen had even trimmed his beard from the unkempt overgrown bush he’d been sporting to a well-groomed, even-trimmed short beard. Jared had texted him the day before letting Jensen know he’d arrive at 6:30 to walk over to the dinner party and that it was a dressy event. He’d asked Jared for clarification to which he received the response “Ma says formal.” Jensen had one suit, besides his formal funeral suit, that was navy blue and made of cashmere with a perfectly matched tie and waistcoat. The button-up was a very pale blue and he’d chosen a white handkerchief with blue pinstripes. 

He’d fought with himself for a half hour over which knot to tie his tie, ultimately deciding on the half Windsor. Jensen went to his dresser where he’d set out cufflinks, watch, belt, phone, and wallet. His eyes fell on the crystal jewelry dish where he kept his wedding ring while he was showering. A new wave of guilt washed over him as he took the ring and rolled it through his hand. In a moment of panic, he grabbed his phone to text Jared and tell him he needed to cancel, but there was a message waiting for him from Christian. 

I swear to God, Jens, if you cancel on Jared, I’ll wring your neck when I get back. 

He took in a deep, calming breath and looked back to the ring. Misha wanted you to move on when you were ready, he told himself. You’re not betraying him, you’re not cheating on him. True, he was still working through the end of his grief, but he had spent the last week and a half pondering what it might be like to date again. In particular, date a hazel-eyed, shaggy-haired, dimpled-cheeked man. He shouldn’t wear it; Jared would definitely notice and Jensen didn’t want him to think he was emotionally unavailable. His phone buzzed, “Chris” popping back up on the screen. 

Misha wanted you to move on and be happy again. Give it a chance, for your sake and mine.

The telepathy thing they had annoyed Jensen sometimes. Neither of them had any hope of lying to other, or hiding any sort of secret. Sometimes it was helpful though; like that time in college Jensen had slipped on the porch of their home and broken his ankle, leg, and wrist. It was dark and Jensen hadn’t seen the thick layer of ice built up. He couldn’t move and Christian wasn’t supposed to come home that night; for half an hour, Jensen had lain there overwhelmed and terrified. Then suddenly Christian was there, yanking him out of the snow and wrapping him in a heated blanket until EMS arrived. Jensen remembered Christian sitting next to his hospital bed later saying, ‘I just knew something had happened.’

After a few more moments of deep breathing, Jensen set the ring back in the bowl. He donned everything else, then replied to Christian.

I’m going, I’m going. Stop nagging. No wonder Jared thought we were an item. 

As Jensen made his way downstairs, the doorbell rang. He tucked his phone into his pocket then pulled the door open. Jensen sucked in a breath and took a second to take in all of Jared. He was wearing a charcoal gray three-piece with a crisp white shirt and a dark, blue-green tie. He was clean-shaven which made his dimples stand out even more than they had last week. When Jensen’s eyes fell on Jared’s, he realized Jared had been checking him out, too. 

“Hey,” Jensen greeted lamely. 

“Hi,” Jared grinned. “You clean up pretty nice.”

“Could say the same about you,” Jensen said cheekily. “Oh, shit. Hang on.” 

Jensen stepped to the sideboard and grabbed the bottles of champagne and wine he’d chosen from his personal collection. Then he stepped outside and locked the door behind him. 

“Shall we?” he asked. “Lead on!”

“Oh, yes! What do you have?” Jared started down the driveway, Jensen falling in step beside him. 

“Uh. Just a bottle of champagne and red wine for the hosts. Y’know, proper dinner etiquette and all that.”

Jared laughed lightly. He took one of the bottles from Jensen and raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw the label. “Is that a Dom Pérignon?” 

“Yeah, it’s a 1990 brut, is that okay? We can go back and get a rosé if your parents would prefer something sweeter or I think I have a few bottles of 2004 Plénitude as well,” Jensen had stopped walking, feeling anxious; Jared looked over at him, perplexed. 

“No, it’s fine, Ma and Dad will absolutely love it. I was just surprised at the brand,” he laughed and started walking down the path again, beckoning Jensen to come with him. “Are you a wine snob? You gotta tell a guy that, y’know?” 

Jensen chuckled. “I mean, I have my preferences but I wouldn’t consider myself a snob.”  

“Oh, good, cause I know practically nothing about wine. I’m more of a beer guy myself, much to my mother’s dismay,” he joked, giggling. 

Jensen thought he could listen to the sound of Jared’s laugh for hours on repeat; he felt a smile spread across his face and thought that a butterfly was suddenly trying to escape his stomach. The walk took about ten minutes which Jared filled with talk about his family and the guests that would be at the party. Jensen soaked in Jared’s voice, only offering an occasional ‘really’ or ‘mm-hmm’ and letting Jared drive the conversation. 

They walked up the driveway to a very lovely two story house that looked much like his own. There were Christmas lights lining the roof, glowing softly. The front window was glowing as well and by the shadows, Jensen figured people had started to arrive. He paused for a moment before stepping onto the porch and shook himself lightly to loosen himself up. Jared opened the door for him, showing his bright smile. They were bombarded as soon as they stepped inside.

“Oh, Jared, honey! I was wondering when you’d get back home!” A shorter, matronly woman bustled her way to them, positively glowing with happiness. She was wearing a beautiful emerald green dress. “Oh! And you must be Jensen! Welcome to the neighborhood, dear, Jared’s been talking about you non-stop.”

Before Jensen could say anything, Jared’s mom - Sherri, if he remembered correctly - was pulling him in for a quick hug and cupped his face, kissing his cheek. 

“Maa!” Jared groaned, pink darkening across his cheeks. Jensen threw him a delighted smirk. 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Padalecki,” Jensen took one of her hands, kissed it lightly, and then presented the bottles to her. “For the hosts of the evening; thank you for having me as a guest.”

“My! What proper manners,” Sherri gushed as she took the bottles from Jensen. “You can call me Sherri. Come on in, let’s introduce you to Gerry.” 

Jensen followed Sherri through the house to the kitchen, followed closely by Jared. She stopped multiple times, saying hello and introducing Jensen and sometimes Jared, too. There were two men and a woman laughing when they walked in. The older man bent down, peeking in the oven. Over his black suit, he was wearing a daisy covered apron.

“Gerry,” Sherri called, “come meet Jensen, our new neighbor!” 

All three people turned to face them and the man in the apron stepped forward, a hand held out. Jensen shook it firmly, returning the friendly smile. 

“Good to meet you, sir,” Jensen greeted, inclining his head. 

“Oh, please, call me Gerry. This is Jeff, my oldest boy, and Megan, Jared’s younger sister.”

“Hon, Jensen brought us some wine,” Sherri said, holding the bottles out to her husband. 

“Wow!” Gerry exclaimed when he took the bottles from Sherri. “You have a fine taste in wine and champagne. Thank you!” 

“These are definitely my favorites,” Jensen confirmed. 

“Well, I am most certainly going to open these tonight. Might have to keep them hidden from the other guests,” he joked. “1990 and 2009 were great years for vineyards.”

“Jared, go introduce Jensen to some of the others, make him feel welcome while we finish up dinner,” Sherri instructed, shooing them from the kitchen. Jensen instead leaned against the wall outside of the kitchen, grinning madly at Jared.

“So, you haven’t stopped talking about me?” Jensen questioned mischievously, tilting his head to the side. 

“Ma and her big mouth,” Jared groaned. “She’s exaggerating, I swear.” 

“Oh my god,” Jensen bent over, laughing a full belly laugh. “You’ve got the same look Chris gets when he’s lying!” 

“I’m not - I didn’t  - I - I - I really like you,” Jared admitted, pink spreading across his face again. He babbled on, “I mean, sorry, I - Well, you’re just attractive, like, really, really, attractive and very fun to hang out with and -” 

“Woah, hey, you’re insanely attractive yourself,” Jensen reached his right hand to his left; he often twisted his wedding ring when he was nervous, but the hand was empty so Jensen dropped his hands, shaking them out slightly. “You’re pretty awesome yourself.”

He kept trying to twist his ring throughout the whole party. It happened at least ten more times before dinner was over and Jensen was starting to feel the stress. Jared had definitely noticed, even raising an eyebrow at him once as if asking if Jensen was okay. 

“Jensen,” Gerry called from the head of the table. Jensen was seated two people away from him. “What is it that you do? Jared said something about books, right?” 

“Yes, sir. I’m a book editor for Ackles-Collins Publishing,” Jensen responded. 

“Your last name is Collins isn’t it? Any relation there?” 

“Uh,” Jensen grinned sheepishly. He reached for his hand again, but quickly redirected, pretending to adjust his sleeve. “Yes, I’m actually part owner.” 

“That is amazing and at such a young age! I own McCarthy International, I think Jared mentioned your roommate was hired on as a translator,” Gerry shared. “How are you two settling in?”

“Really well, we’ve spent the last two weeks learning the new town and unpacking everything. Jared’s shown me all of the local shops and fun places to go.”

Gerry’s attention was soon pulled away by another man and Jensen was pulled into conversation with Sherri about his college education and publishing house. As dinner finished and people started to move from the table and mingle again, Jensen asked Jared where the bathroom was. Jared led Jensen upstairs, away from the crowd. He found it slightly odd because there were no lights on upstairs. They moved into a dark hallway and Jared turned to Jensen, a concerned look on his face. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, placing his hands lightly on Jensen’s upper arms. “It’s like you’re getting more nervous as the night goes on.” 

Automatically, Jensen made an aborted move to twist his absent ring, huffing exasperatedly when he dropped his hands back to his sides. 

“And you keep doing that, too. Are you uncomfortable? Are there too many strangers? I can walk you home?” Jared placed his hands over Jensen’s, face showing only care and sympathy. 

“No.. No. I’m not,” Jensen sighed; he’d hoped he would be able to wait a few dates before having this talk with Jared. “I need to explain something and I am praying you’ll understand because I don’t want to ruin this before it starts.” 

“C’mere,” Jared walked Jensen to the end of the hall and pushed him lightly through a door, following closely. 

The light flicked on and Jensen found himself in what had to be Jared’s childhood bedroom. The walls were bright blue, plastered with various posters of sports teams and bands. He sat down on a large bed and patted the tye-dye duvet next to him. Jensen sat down, staring at his hands, heart pounding in his throat. 

“I don’t mind, Jensen. Whatever it is, it’s better to tell me now. I would really like to go out with you, but if that’s not what you want -” 

Jensen cut him off.  “No, no, I want that, too. I just - I wanted to wait until we’d had a couple dates, but - You should know that I had a husband for twenty years,” Jensen’s breath caught in his throat; he swallowed thickly and continued before Jared could interject. “He passed, July of last year.” 

“Oh my god,” Jared gasped in surprise. 

“Sorry, it’s a lot to take in. This is the first time I’ve really considered going out with someone since, and I am really looking forward to it, if you’ll still have me. I come with a lot of baggage and that’s not for everyone. I took my wedding ring off, that’s why I keep wringing my hands together; I just didn’t want to give you the wrong impression by wearing it,” Jensen muttered, afraid to look into Jared's face. 

Unexpectedly, Jensen was completely enveloped in a bone-crushing hug, face pressed into Jared’s shoulder. He smelled wonderful, Jensen thought, closing his eyes; pine trees, holiday berries, and a hint of peppermint. He brought his arms up and returned the hug. Jared pulled back and pressed his forehead to Jensen’s and he saw that Jared’s eyes were bright and teary. 

“You don’t have to apologize for something like that,” Jared murmured sympathetically. “That must have been so, so hard for you. I can’t even imagine.”

Jensen sniffed once and smiled softly, blinking the tears in his eyes away. “Well, I’m not sure how to respond to that, but, if you’d let me, I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime. Maybe you and your family will come over sometime? I’ll make Chris cook cause I’m still not very good at that.”

Jared laughed heartily. 

“You need to stop that,” Jensen deadpanned. Jared looked taken aback. He dropped the seriousness and said, “It makes me want to tickle you just so I can hear it.” 

They grinned at each other for a few beats before Jensen spoke again, “We should get back to the party, people will think there’s some hanky-panky going on.” 

“Hanky-panky?!” Jared burst out laughing, doubling over.

When he’d finally regained his composure, Jared led Jensen back downstairs. They stuck together for the rest of the night, having great conversations with other guests as well as each other, until the party began to die down. Jensen’s heart felt like it was going to explode with warmth and joy, optimistic for the first time in what seemed like a century. He began to make his way to the kitchen for some water when Jared called for him to stop with an urgent tone. 

“Wha -” Jensen stopped in his tracks between the living room and dining room and turned around. Jared strode up to him, a huge smile on his face. He looked up and Jensen followed his eyes. When Jensen looked back to Jared’s face, it had turned to a look of sly giddiness. 

“Mistletoe!” Jared said triumphantly. “Guess someone needs to kiss you.�� 

Jensen let out a soft huff of laughter, but then Jared’s lips were lightly pressed to his, soft and chaste and fleeting. Jared looked delighted with himself when he pulled back and Jensen couldn’t help but smile shyly and appreciate the simplicity. A warm hand enveloped his own and their fingers laced together. 

“Will you walk me home?” Jensen asked, his voice breathy and hopeful. 

“I’d be delighted to,” Jared smiled and tilted his head to the side, eyes bright and excited. 

[darkdreamer253]

JayTim Week - Day 2: Time Travel

Title: Time to Save You

Rating: Teen & Up

Fandom: Batman, DC

Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Warnings/Tags: Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Time Slips, Major Character Death(Implied), Child Neglect(Implied), Foster Care, Underage Smoking, Mild Language, Runaway, No Capes AU

Summary:  Jason Todd and Tim Drake met in an unprecedented way. They found each other in a time slip, three years apart. When Tim learns that Jason is going to die, he tries to find a way to save him.

Notes: This was a much bigger project than I anticipated, and got done really late. There was a preview before, but once I finished it, I deleted and reposted the original post with this version. That’s also why it’s out of order. If you saw the preview, I suggest reading the new version. It’s much better and wasn’t rushed.

External Link: Archive of Our Own

Timothy Drake met Jason Todd in a very unprecedented way. Jason lived next door to him, and the windows on the first floor of their houses had small awnings that almost touched.

Tim would sit out there to think, Jason would sit out there to smoke. The two met on those small awnings, separated by a gap barely five feet wide. The two would never really talk when it first started, both just doing what they did before going back inside.

It was a week before Jason got the first word in. Tim tried to catch himself whenever he stared at Jason, the guy was pleasing to the eye after all. However, one time he hadn't stopped himself as Jason commented with an exhale of smoke.

“Are you gonna just stare at me all day or are you gonna say something?”

It had startled Tim, he'd never expected Jason to notice or talk about it, but his face flushed now as he was caught.

“Sorry, I just… you're pretty handsome,” it was all Tim could think to say, but it wasn't much of an excuse.

Jason now met Tim's eyes, a sly smug plastered across his face,” Oh, am I? Pretty bold of you to say.”

Tim hadn't thought about it that way until Jason's comment, his cheeks flushing more from the embarrassment. “I-I… I didn't mean it that way, I just--”

His stammering words were cut off by a low chuckle from Jason. “Relax, kid, I was only messing with you.”

“Actually, I think we're the same age,” Tim corrects Jason, who took another drag off his cigarette.

“No shit,” Jason looked genuinely surprised about this information,” You're older than you look, kid. Want a light?”

“No, I don't smoke,” Tim waved off the carton Jason offered as he answered,” I've been coming out here for more than a week without ever lighting a cigarette, why would you think I want one now? Plus, I'm not old enough, which you should know.”

“Don't care about the age, just thought maybe you're a once in a while kinda guy,” Jason's shoulders shrugged as he explained his thinking.

“Well, I'm not that kind of guy,” Tim deadpanned at the other teen.

“Then what kinda guy are you?” Jason waggled his eyebrows at him as he asked.

Tim connected the dots as he realized this was Jason's ‘subtle’ way of trying to get to know him. It made Tim's face flush again at the thought of a cute guy wanting to get to know him. Names were exchanged for the first time shortly after and their conversations continued for many days, the two becoming very close up on those awnings.

It had been a couple of weeks when they started talking that Tim began to notice something strange. First, he tried to visit the house one day. He didn't want it to seem weird that he wanted to see Jason on more than just an awning, and had come up with a good excuse. He had one of Jason's favorite books, one he hadn't gotten around to reading, and was going to say he wanted to read it with him where it wouldn't be damaged.

After the third knock when nobody answered, a woman next door working on her garden piped up,” No one lives there, hasn't for quite some time.”

“What?”

“Yeah, ever since the accident the house has been vacant. The family that lived there wasn't the best off and left shortly after it happened. Whole thing was tragic really.”

Tim thanked the woman and headed back to his own house next door, not sure what to think. Eventually, he decided the woman must have gotten the houses mixed up, because he knew Jason lived there. He must have simply not been home. He met Jason up on the awning later that day and decided to ask him.

“Actually, I live here with my foster family,” Jason spoke between drags of his cigarette,” My dad is in jail and my mom is an addict who can't take care of me, so social services decided I would be better off in the system. Which is bullshit, the whole thing is. None of the kids here want this shit. They want a family, not temporary living.”

“Well, then maybe they weren't home earlier? No one answered the door.”

“They just don't like visitors unless it's a government official coming to give them a check,” Jason explained,” They're not bad people, they take care of us, they just only do it to get the money.”

“Oh.” Tim couldn't come up with a better response. He wasn't sure what to say after hearing that, but he was a bit upset that he would never really be able to see Jason anywhere but on top of the awnings.

Jason must have picked up on it, because he spoke again in a reassuring tone,” Hey, don't worry about it. In three years, I'll be able to get out of this shit hole and live on my own.”

That didn't really raise Tim's spirits, but he tried not to let it get to him too much. He decided not to bother asking about whatever accident that woman was talking about, she was clearly wrong. Instead, he decided to tell Jason about the book he planned on reading and the subject changed quickly, Jason clearly excited about sharing the story with Tim.

It was another month before Tim noticed the second weird thing. It was another day out on the awning and Tim had started another book Jason suggested that Tim hadn't read, having already finished the first. Jason usually started off the conversation by asking about how far Tim had gotten, but not today.

“Man, can you believe the shit that happened across the street last night?”

“Why, what was last night?”

“You mean to tell me you didn't hear that? Shit, the cops were so loud I thought they'd wake up the whole fucking neighborhood.”

“I didn't hear anything about it,” Tim was a bit concerned now,” What happened?”

“Apparently it was a drug bust,” Jason told him,” Woke up just about everyone. Your mom was out there, I talked to her--”

“Wait,” Tim couldn't help but interrupt Jason,” My dad and I moved out here because the family funds started to decline after my mother's death. It couldn't be my mom you talked to. Maybe one of the neighbors?”

“She said she lived there,” Jason looked worried now,” Fuck, I hope you didn't get robbed or some shit. I thought she lived there so I didn't stop her when she went into your fucking house. God, I'm so fucking stupid.”

“It's alright, we didn't get robbed,” Tim tried not to seem worried as well,” She must have left after realizing this wasn't her house, because nothing is missing. Still a bit weird that I slept through a drug bust.”

“Maybe your a strong sleeper?” Jason suggested as though that were a real answer.

The whole thing didn't sit well with Tim, why did one of their neighbors think she lived there? And how did he sleep through something so loud? It ate at him and so he decided to look it up, but what he found was surprising. The only thing he found about a drug bust across the street happened three years ago.

He thought maybe it was a practical joke on Jason's part, though Jason didn't seem like the type to use something so serious as a joke. He didn't want to think the worst of Jason like that, but he also couldn't come up with any other reason why Jason would bring it up.

So he decided not to confront Jason about it. After all, there was no harm done. Instead, he just continued like nothing happened, growing closer and closer to Jason with time. He started to realize that this was more than just friendship for him as he started going out there more, excited to see Jason everyday.

He felt stupid that they never bridged the gap between the awnings. It was Jason who suggested they didn't, 'more romantic that way’ were the exact words he used. Tim knew he was joking, but to him it really was romantic going out there and talking to Jason everyday.

He just wished that it could be more. That he could jump over there and hug him, or hold his hand, or just be close to him. But it was always Jason who suggested they live in their separate worlds, close but never close enough.

It had been almost a year of this when Tim finally got the last piece of weird information that put the whole puzzle together. He noticed a well-dressed woman in front of Jason's house, putting Flowers on the side of the road. It made him think back to the accident the neighbor had mentioned, though he hadn't really thought about it since that day. He decided to ask her about it, standing near the edge of the curb to talk to her.

“Hi, sorry, I noticed you were putting flowers here, I wanted to ask about what happened.”

“Oh, of course,” she seemed to compose herself, wiping her cheek and straightening her button-up,” I was the case worker for the foster family that used to live here. A few months before you moved in, one of them was hit by a car. The couple who cared for the boy were distraught, and felt they weren't fit to care for the children anymore. They asked for them to be moved elsewhere. They left the house after all the kids were gone, I don't think they could afford it anymore.”

Tim’s brows furrowed, unsure of how to process the new information. “Was there another foster family living here before the one that's here now?”

“No, you must be mistaken. This house has been empty since the accident. No one lives there now.”

“But I know one the kids who lives there,” Tim was insistent now, trying to make heads or tails of what this woman was telling him,” I talk to him everyday, you must know him if you work in foster care. His name is Jason Todd.”

The woman looks awestruck for a moment before anger takes over her features. “Is this some sort of joke?”

“What do you mean?”

“Jason Todd was killed in a car accident,” she explained, hot tears now running down her cheeks,” I came here to leave flowers because he died one year ago today. I don't think it's funny that you're joking around about this.”

Tim didn't know how to respond to the information. Jason Todd has been dead for a year. Even as it ran through his head so many times, he still couldn't believe it. The woman stormed off as he tried to process everything he just learned about Jason. He wondered how he even met Jason in the first place. Was he a ghost or was something else going on? It was only when he thought about the drug bust Jason mentioned that he started to realize what might be going on. It made him doubt and think about skipping a day with Jason, but he decided it would be better to ask him about all this.

He wasn't sure how to bring it up once he was out there, letting Jason talk for awhile before he confronted him,” Do you remember that drug bust you mentioned last year?”

“Jesus, that was a while ago,” Jason snuffed out his cigarette as if to give Tim his full attention,” Yeah, I remember. Why are you bringing that up now?”

“It happened four years ago according to the news articles,” it seems Tim had lost Jason as a look of sheer confusion was all he saw,” This might seem like a weird question, but what year is it?”

“2013. Look, Tim, what is this about? Are you trying to mess with me? 'Cause this shit isn't funny.”

“It's not 2013 though, it's 2016,” Tim still couldn't believe what he heard, but it proved exactly what he thought,” The house you live in has been empty for about a year, ever since one of the foster kids living there died.”

“The fuck?” Jason was on his feet now, pure rage the only thing on his features. “That's not fucking funny, Timmy. I think I'd know if one of my siblings died or if my family moved out of my fucking house. This is some fucked up shit and you need to stop.”

Jason usually used the more childish name to tease Tim, knowing that it got under his skin to have a name that sounded like a ten year old. It wasn't meant to be teasing this time, Tim had never seen Jason so mad, even after a bad day with his foster family.

“I never said it was one of your siblings,” Tim stared intently into Jason's eyes,” It wasn't one of them who died. It was you, Jason. You're the one who died, last year in 2015.”

Jason went wide-eyed and then ground his teeth. “This isn't fucking funny anymore. I'm not fucking playing this sick game. I'm gonna come over there and your gonna have three seconds to explain yourself before I hurt you.”

Tim was expecting the anger, he just wasn't expecting it to be this bad. Jason approached the gap, ready to jump it without a second thought. The second he moved across the gap, he was gone. No angry, much bigger than him teen looming above him. The space where he'd been was just empty. Tim wondered if that was part of the deal. If they could meet and talk across time, but never actually be close enough to touch despite the small gap. Tim took the opportunity to move to the other awning.

The window opened, left unlocked from whoever was in the room last and he absently wondered if it was Jason. It opened into an empty hall, before he numbly moved through the rest of the house. Everything was the same, all the rooms empty. Seeing it first hand was something completely different than hearing it from other people. The house was abandoned after the death of the person he'd gotten to know so well. He found himself crying in there, thinking of Jason who he only just now realized that he was probably in love with.

He went back to his own awning after composing himself, looking back to see Jason leaning up against the side of his house. He was holding his legs to his chest like a scared child, something Tim had never seen him do. Jason had always been too tough for that sort of thing.

“You fucking disappeared,” Jason was quiet and didn't move when he spoke,” I thought it was a fucking joke and then you were just fucking gone. I wasn't even angry anymore, I just wanted to know where you went. I knocked on the door, but you weren't inside, just that lady from before. She said she lived alone, that there was no Tim Drake who lived there. What the hell is going on, Tim?”

“Have you ever heard of time slips?” Jason's look told him that it was a stupid question and he continued,” I think these awnings, for some reason, are in a time slip. That we're meeting across two different times, three years apart.”

“That doesn't make any fucking sense,” Jason moved a bit now, letting his legs slide away, allowing Tim to see his face,” I mean, why the fuck would this shit happen to us? I just learned I'm going to fucking die in two years and I can't even fucking do a goddamn thing about it. I can't even fucking touch you.”

“Maybe you can,” Tim suggested and Jason looked at him like he was crazy,” I mean, we haven't actually tried, maybe we can still touch.”

Tim reached out his hand across the gap, stretching it about half of the way. He asked Jason,” Can you still see it?”

“Yeah, I can,” Jason answered, staring at the outstretched limb like it might vanish if he looked away.

It took Jason awhile before he reached out his own hand, meeting Tim's in the middle. The hands looked as though they were touching, but Tim could feel nothing against his skin. There was no feeling of another person there, just the empty air.

“Well, it was worth a shot,” Tim pulled his hand back to his side,” But who knows? Maybe we'll find a way eventually. Maybe this is happening to us because I'm supposed to figure out a way to bridge that gap and save you.”

“Maybe.”

Jason sounded like he didn't believe that and he didn't talk the rest of the time they were out there. Tim went in when it started getting a little too cold to handle, but Jason didn't budge. Tim went in through his window and looked out as he closed it, only to see Jason wasn't there despite the fact that he definitely hadn't moved. It was going to take some time to get used to this new revelation, but Tim didn't want to give this up.

Over the next months, Jason tested the boundaries of their time slip extensively, seeming intent on meeting Tim on the other side of the gap. Tim didn't complain, he liked that Jason seemed up for anything to see if he could get to Tim.

Jason had found out that as long as he was still touching his own awning, he could stretch himself across the gap to Tim's own and Tim could still see him. When he tried to use a board to get across, however, he disappeared the second both feet touched the new surface. Jason had tried taking a small piece of shingle with him before jumping over to Tim. That drew the conclusion that once something was removed, it was no longer actually part of the awning.

Jason had thrown a couple of books across the gap to Tim, ones he had in his room. Yet when Tim tried to throw something to him, only Tim could see it sitting on the awning. Tim figured it was because the object didn't technically exist in Jason's time, so he couldn't actually touch it, while anything from Jason's time would still exist in his.

Jason kept trying, no matter how many times he failed to reach Tim's awning with Tim still being there. It was actually admirable how hard Jason tried, though Tim was working on his own project.

He'd been looking up time slips and how they worked, in order to figure out a way to save Jason's life. He could never find anything conclusive, mostly stories and theories without solid evidence. Whatever was happening between him and Jason was something unique.

It had been another a year since they found out about the time slip that Tim noticed Jason had stopped trying to bridge the gap. He never tried anything new, not really doing anything else they tested either. He also talked less and mostly just sat there while Tim did the talking.

“What is up with you lately?” Tim confronted Jason after almost a month of the cold shoulder. “Did I do something wrong? You're not trying to cut yourself off because you know that it's almost time, are you?”

Jason didn't say a word, just took another deep inhale of his cigarette. Tim had noticed he'd been smoking more too. He wondered where he even got the cigarettes since he wasn't old enough to buy them, but didn't think on that too much.

“You're never this quiet for this long,” Tim pressed the subject,” Come on, Jason, just tell me what's wrong.”

“Everything is wrong, okay?” Jason practically shouted, the first words he'd said to Tim in some time. “There's a clock ticking down over my head and I don't want to drag you down with me. I mean, aren't you tired of it? Of knowing that I'm gonna disappear one day without ever really meeting you? Without giving you a real goodbye?”

“A real goodbye?” Tim wasn't sure about Jason's meaning, but he'd clearly struck on the core of the subject as the teen across from him flinched at the question.

“Shit, I didn't mean to say it like that,” Jason didn't meet Tim's eyes now as he continued,” I mean, I don't even know if that's what you want, I was pushing what I want onto you.”

“What do you want, Jason?”

The question had Jason visibly shaking. It was clear that there was something he wanted to say, but he was too scared to say it. Tim didn't push him, knowing that he would say it when he was ready.

“Fuck, I mean, I didn't want to tell you like this,” Jason ran a hand through his hair,” Not sure I wanted to tell you at all after finding out we can't even touch. After all, I can't really give you anything and I'm gonna die before I even get the chance to.”

Tim hated it when Jason got on the subject of his death. Jason could rant on for hours about how fucked up it was and it always hurt Tim to see him like that. He hadn't found a way to save him yet, but he wasn't going to stop looking. But right now, he just looked at Jason, ushering him to continue without pressuring him by forcing it out of him.

“I've been thinking about you a lot lately,” Jason finally said, as if that answered all of Tim's questions,” And I think I'm fucking head over goddamn heels for you, but I can't do shit about it.”

Tim was silent, sure that his hear that stopped beating and his throat had closed off. He was sure he was going to die from those words, sure that he must have imagined it because why would Jason Todd like him? He was just a scrawny little nerd with nothing going for him and Jason could probably have anyone he wanted.

“Jesus fuck, are you still with me kid?” Tim was roused from his trance by Jason's voice. “I knew you probably wouldn't swing that way, but I didn't think you'd just stop talking to me either.”

Tim hadn't thought of a response, hadn't even thought he'd truly heard what Jason said. He needed to say something, but he had no idea what. Thoughts ran through his head, but none of them left his lips. He just sat there as Jason probably thought that Tim hated him for his confession.

“Well, guess I'll just stop bothering you then,” Jason looked disappointed as he turned and opened his window.

“I love you,” Tim forced the words from his throat when Jason had one leg through the open window, about to disappear from Tim's life until the next time he came out onto that awning.

Jason pulled back out, closing the window behind him. He sat back down and stared at Tim silently, as if the explanation were just written on Tim's face.

“I mean, at least I feel like I do,” Tim provided, tense thinking about what Jason might say to this,” I think I've known for a little while. I've definitely had a crush on you for a long time, but I realized I'm pretty sure it's love shortly after we found out we're in a time slip.”

“Well fuck, guess we really fucked up then.”

“Yeah, I guess we did,” Tim laughed a bit,” Falling in love with someone you can't touch. We must be the stupidest people on the planet.”

Jason laughed with him and the tension Tim felt from his confession eased away.

“So what now? Where do we go from here? I'm gonna die in a few months and we've never even held hands, let alone kissed.”

“I don't know.” Tim wasn't sure he could answer that question. He wanted nothing more than to jump over there and hold Jason, but he knew that was impossible.

Jason slid to the end of the awning, holding his hand out towards Tim. Tim followed suit, getting his hand close enough to touch Jason, but not feeling anything. He wondered if he stretched a bit more that his hand would go straight through Jason's, like it was an illusion.

Jason's hand dropped before he could try, not that he wanted to. He preferred to believe that Jason was really there, not somewhere Tim could never reach him. He wished it were that simple.

“I'm working on the whole 'going to die’ thing,” Tim told him, letting his own hand fall,” I've been thinking about it a lot actually, but I'm still working out how to fix this.”

“I don't know if you can,” Jason dropped back, now lying down on the awning,” We might just have this time and that's it. Life is fucking cruel like that.”

Maybe Jason was right, but Tim wasn't ready to give up. He continued looking, even as Jason had just about given up on stopping this. Tim knew he still had time, he'd practically been counting the days since the social worker had told him the day Jason had died. He knew that somehow, he would find a way to do this. His research took up a lot of time, but he still came out onto the awning as often as he could.

Jason had taken to setting up pseudo dates. He'd make snacks that could stand the test of time, like peanut butter granola bars and soda. He'd throw some over to Tim and they'd eat the snack together. It wasn't the most romantic thing, but Jason had said this was the closest they'd ever get to a real date and he was going to take what he could get. Tim actually enjoyed what time they had together. It wasn't typical dating, but he enjoyed it. Then came a day when Jason didn't plan one of their 'dates’.

“The lady next door moved out,” Jason told Tim,” There's a for sale sign out front. Is it getting close to that time?”

Tim didn't want to answer. He didn't want to tell Jason he could count the number of days left with his fingers. He didn't want to admit it because he didn't want it to be real. He hadn't even found a way to save Jason yet.

“It's still a little while,” Tim lied, trying his best to give a reassuring smile.

“Fucking sucks that I have to think about this shit,” Jason ran a hand through his hair,” Most seventeen year olds don't have to think about when their going to die.”

“Well, we're not normal seventeen year olds,” Tim shrugged,” I told you it would work out, and I meant it. Just don't think about it too much.”

That seemed to cheer Jason up a bit, but the smile on his face just made Tim's heart sink a little. Six days was all they had left. How was he supposed to save Jason in that time?

Tim hardly went out for five out of the last six days. He'd wanted to do as much research as he could before it was too late. Searches yielded nothing and when the last day came, Tim didn't even bother. There was no way he was going to find the answer anymore, so he just decided to spend the last of his time with Jason.

He'd gone out on the awning earlier than usual that day, hoping to catch Jason as soon as he came out. He'd brought a book to read while he waited, but that was put to the side when he saw someone pacing in front of Jason's house. When Tim looked harder, it almost looked like it was Jason, but that wasn't possible. The only place he could see Jason was on the awning. There wasn't any way it could be Jason.

Before he could think on it too much, the person moved toward the house. Maybe someone finally coming to see if the house could be sold? Tim wasn't sure, but he was so distracted by this that he didn't notice Jason had come out until the window snapped shut.

Jason was carrying a duffel bag with him as he sat down at the edge of his awning,” I'm gonna run away.”

Tim felt his throat tie itself in a knot. Maybe that's why he'd been out there when he died, because he was running away. Tim needed to try and convince Jason not to go, but he couldn't get the words out.

“I mean, maybe this is how I can be saved,” Jason said,” If I'm not here I can't die, right? I've been thinking about running away for awhile now, but what you said the other day convinced me. Maybe that's how you change my fate or whatever.”

Tim wanted to protest, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get any words past the lump in his throat. This wasn't what would save him, this would be what caused his death.

“Listen, I have a friend's place I can stay until I can come back and find you,” Jason continued his plan,” I just wanted to say goodbye before I left.”

Tim couldn't find the will to force the words out, to shout at him to stop. Jason turned away from him to jump down off the awning. Then his feet touched the ground below him. His feet were planted firmly on the ground and Tim could still see him. Then a revelation hit him. The person in front of the house had really been Jason, Tim had somehow actually made it to Jason's time. Something about this day had allowed him to jump across time.

He was shocked as he watched Jason walk toward the street, the slightly busy street with speeders who didn't pay attention. He moved when Jason was halfway to the street. He jumped down as quickly as he could, running after Jason. He knew that this was it, this was how he saved him. Jason had just gotten into the street when Tim wrapped an arm around him and pulled him back to the curb.

Jason hit the ground hard, the sound of screeching tires and a car horn now filling the street. He saw an SUV that had just skidded to a halt in the street, the tires marks starting right where he'd been standing just a second ago. He looked to see the person that had dragged him out of the street, but when he saw no one was there, he thought of Tim. Maybe he'd finally figured out a way to save him.

The driver got out of the SUV and came over to Jason,” Oh, God, are you alright? I wasn't paying attention. I almost hit you. What about the other kid that was with you? What happened to him?”

Jason was trying to think of an answer when doors started opening and he heard the sound of his foster father's voice. Jason just grabbed his bag and ran after hearing him, ignoring it as his foster father shouted after him. He made it to his friends house without any other incidents. He'd already told Roy he wanted to crash here, so he got a warm welcome when he entered the apartment.

Roy was a couple years older, so he'd managed to get his own place, albeit it was a cheap apartment that he could afford on minimum wage. Jason's foster parents didn't know about it either, which was a plus. And Jason didn't care, he just needed somewhere, and right now someone to talk to. He told Roy the whole story of Tim Drake and how he'd saved his life. Roy seemed to believe him, so he managed to talk his friend into doing some recon for him.

Apparently, rumors spread through the neighborhood that the person who saved Jason had died since he was never found. That became the 'block tragedy’, and since no one could name the savior, Jason was the one more talked about in the stories. The rumors had reached Jason's case worker eventually, but the only information she got was that Jason was involved in a car crash and someone had died. So when his foster parents said they wanted to give the other kids back to the system for failing a child, she assumed that it was Jason who died.

His foster parents had simply thought that having a child run away meant they failed as parents. They never even reported him as a runaway, which helped the story get as bad as it did. The Drakes moved in a few months after the accident, just like Tim had told him. Jason wanted to just go over there now, but he knew that Tim had to meet him the way he did if this was going to work. So he had to wait three years with Roy.

It was a hard three years when all he wanted was to go back and see Tim. He tried to distract himself from running back there too early. He managed to get a job at a bookstore to help with rent and helped out around the house. He bought the groceries and did the cooking. He helped take care of Lian, Roy's daughter. Anything he could do that would keep his mind off of Tim.

When he finally made it through the three years, it almost felt like a dream. That if he went back, the illusion would be broken and he'd have to face reality. It was Roy who convinced him that maybe life could be like the movies and motivated him to go.

He stood just two houses down from Tim's house, watching it closely. This was the day and Jason knew he couldn't get too close and risk interfering. He had to wait for this thing to run its course before he could see Tim.

After awhile, he saw Tim. He was bolting toward the street at top speed. Jason felt his heart leap to his throat when he saw the look of desperation on Tim's face. Watch as he got to the street. Held his breath as he pulled someone back that Jason couldn't see.

Tim landed in the grass, the air knocked out of his lungs. The silence of the street contrasted what had just happened. He expected the sound of tires or a car horn. There was nothing. He got himself together when he noticed Jason wasn't there.

He looked around, searching for his friend. Tim caught notice of someone watching a couple houses away. Jason waved from his spot, happy to see that Tim was alright. Tim was confused by him, someone who looked like Jason but just a bit older.

Jason approached the now younger than him teen, offering a hand to help him up and a few words,” Looks like you finally figured out how to save me.”

Recognition lit up Tim's face immediately. He shot upright and wrapped his arms around Jason, holding onto him as if for dear life.

“I can't believe you're alive,” tears started to do Tim's eyes,” I really thought I wouldn't be able to save you.”

“Well, you managed to do it, kid,” Jason chuckled,” I'm here, in the flesh.”

Tim then pulled back from the hug, clearly just now noticing something important,” I can touch you now. I just hugged you.”

“Finally found a way over to you, no more three year gap between us,” Jason said, but had to correct himself,” Well, not a time gap anyway. Age gaps are a different story.”

“I'm so glad you're here,” Tim buried his face in Jason's chest.

“I'm glad I'm here too,” Jason put his arms around Tim as well now,” It was hard, waiting three years so I could catch up to you. Maybe next time you get us stuck in a time slip, don't make it so long.”

They both laughed now, holding each other in the middle of the sidewalk. After a moment, Tim lifted himself up on his toes slightly. Jason bent his head down to meet him halfway. And the two of them shared their first kiss.

[sanders-specs]

I’ll Be Home Chapter 3

Summary:  All Roman and Logan want to do is get home for Christmas. They’d been away from their boyfriends for months on separate jobs, and are looking forward to getting home. Neither one of them will let some blizzard get in their way, even though Patton and Virgil insist they stay put. The lengths they’ll go to get home is great, even if it means facing mother nature at her worst.

A/N: Quick storytime! So last weekend a couple of my friends (who are dating) came over and, surprise, it snowed! the only thing was one friend was supposed to come over a day before the other. One of them was so paranoid because of the snow, though the rest of us weren’t because “Oh it’s the south, we never get heavy snow!” well...we were wrong. Because of her slight anxiety of not getting to see her girlfriend, we were able to avoid the exact situation this story takes place in by my other friend coming over a day early and we all got snowed in together. 

I believe her exact words when freaking out to me was “I don’t want this to end up like your fanfic!” So yeah, that’s how this story almost became a real life situation for my two best friends. 

Warnings: Kissing, swearing, mentions of showering togehter (sexual implications? I guess?) 

Pairing: LAMP

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 

Read on Ao3 

Tag list:  @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @dan-yuna @kryspytacos @tripleaaaqueer @helloisthisusernametaken @jordandobbertin @lilbeanblr @wtf-is-a-side 

“Patton would you stop pacing? It’s not going to make anything better,” Virgil says.

“I can’t help but be worried,” Patton says, gnawing at his fingernails. Virgil sighs and gets up, stepping in Patton’s path and taking his hands away from his mouth.

“Look, it’s late, why don’t we go to bed? Both Roman and Logan have said that they won’t be here until tomorrow. The faster we go to sleep, the sooner we’ll wake up and the closer the two of them will be to being back.”

“But Roman hasn’t called yet,” Patton says with a pout.

Virgil sighs, but he knew that Patton wouldn’t budge without some kind of communication from Roman at the very least. Logan, they now knew, was hard to come by communication at the moment (why, Virgil still didn’t know). Roman on the other hand…

Patton’s phone beeped and Patton lunged for it, quickly putting in his password to unlock it. His shoulder slump slightly. “It’s Roman. He says he’s not in a good calling place right now but that we should get some sleep and that he loves us.”

“See?” Virgil says, biting back his own worry and anxiety. “Roman’s completely fine. He probably has bad reception and can’t call, or Timothy’s sleeping and he doesn’t want to wake him up. C’mon, Pat, let’s go to bed.”

Patton sighs, but he lets Virgil lead him to bed.

Patton, though worried for Roman and Logan, could see how much Virgil was keeping himself together for his sake. They were both beyond worried, and Patton figured his own agitation wasn’t helping anything. So as they were settling into bed, Patton snuggled close to Virgil and pressed kisses to his cheek and neck.

“I’m sorry, I probably haven’t been making this any better for either of us,” Patton mutters.

Virgil pulls him closer, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “We’re both a bit stressed, Pat, I don’t blame you.”

Patton sighs, relaxing against Virgil. “On the bright side, Christmas is soon.”

Virgil chuckles. “Yeah, I finally get to give you your gift,” he says teasingly.

Patton looks up at him with wide eyes. “Ohhh what’d you get me?”

“You don’t get to know until Christmas!” Virgil exclaims.

“Aw c’mon please?” Patton begs. “Can’t I get a little hint?”

“No.”

“A peak?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“A letter?”

“Nope.”

Patton sighed and rolled over so he was out of Virgil’s arms. “Well then I’m just going to sleep over here tonight! Since you want to be mean.”

“Oh you’re going to pout now, are you?” Virgil asks in a teasing tone.

“I’m not pouting,” Patton mumbles, scooting just a bit further away from Virgil.

“Then…you wouldn’t mind if I did this!” Virgil exclaims, and suddenly Patton was being tickled all over.

“Ahhh Virgil stooppppp!” Patton squeals, rolling over onto his back to try and fight off his boyfriend.

“Never!” Virgil says, tickling him relentlessly. To make things worse, he started peppering Patton’s face with kisses, which only made Patton giggle even more.

Kiss, “That’s,” kiss, “not,” kiss, “fair!” kiss.

Virgil just chuckled smugly and started rapid fire kissing until Patton got a hold of his hands and pushed him off. “Ha!” Patton exclaims, jumping off the bed.

“Hey!” Virgil exclaims. “Get back here!”

Patton giggles as he dashes out of the bed room, Virgil on his heels. They chase each other around the living room and kitchen before Patton finally catches Virgil around the waist and wraps his arms around him tightly.

“Payback!” Patton says, staring to pepper kisses down Virgil’s neck and cheeks.

“Ugh you’re sooo meeaannn!” Virgil whines, squirming in Patton’s grip.

“You’re one talk,” Patton mutters, pressing one last sweet kiss to his cheek before letting him go.

Virgil turns, smiling at Patton, before bringing him in for a long, sweet kiss that was a lot less playful that the ones they’d shared just a moment before.

Suddenly, there was a loud honk right outside of the house, startling both boys so much that they jumped apart. For a moment, they both just stared at each other, neither of them daring to hope.

“Do you think…”

“Roman?”

At the same time, Patton and Virgil ran to the front windows and pulled back the blinds. There was, in fact, a car being pushed to the house, two figures behind it. Patton and Virgil watched as the two people stopped right in front of the house and slumped against the car, clearly exhausted.

Patton turns to Virgil with a wide grin before rushing to the door and flinging it open. One of them perked up when the door opened, and before Patton knew what he was doing, he was running outside into the snow barefoot and in his pajamas, Virgil close behind him.

“Roman!” Patton exclaims, launching himself at his boyfriend. Roman caught him, letting Patton wrap his legs around him.

“My love, I am thrilled to see you, but it’s freezing out here. Did it not occur to you to wait until I came to the door?” Roman asks, though he buried his head in the crook of Patton’s neck, his strong arms holding Patton steady.

“I don’t really care,” Patton says.

Roman’s body shakes with laughter and presses a kiss to Patton’s neck, making Patton cling tighter to him.

A moment later, another weight was added but to Roman’s back. “You scared the shit out of us!” Virgil exclaims, wrapping his arms around both Roman and Patton.

“My apologies,” Roman says, sounding very amused.

“Okay, not that this isn’t sweet and all, but it actually is freezing out here,” Timothy says, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

“Ah, yes, we should go inside,” Roman says. He hefts Patton up to make sure he doesn’t fall then walks the rest of the way inside. Virgil stayed close by, gripping Roman’s jacket like a lifeline. Once through the door, Roman lets Patton down only to be replaced by Virgil, who flings himself into Roman’s arms.

“Both of you must have a death wish,” Roman says, rubbing Virgil’s arms to get him to stop shivering.

“Well can you blame us Princey?” Virgil mutters, tightening his hold. “We missed you.”

Roman chuckles softly, pulling back only enough to free one side so he could wrap Patton in their embrace as well. “And I you.”

“Uh, Ro, are you okay, you’re kinda shivering,” Virgil says, noticing Roman’s trembling for the first time.

“The battery died in my car,” Timothy says, flopping down on the couch. “We pushed it all the way here.”

Patton smacks Roman’s chest. “Why didn’t you call us?!”

“Well we couldn’t very well leave his car,” Roman says, tightening his grip on Patton’s waist. Patton just rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Besides I told you two to go to sleep.”

“We couldn’t,” Virgil says, resting his head on Roman’s shoulder. “You should’ve called us Ro.”

“Perhaps,” Roman says, kissing the tops of their heads, “but I’m here now.”

Virgil and Patton couldn’t help but smile at that. True. At least he was here now.

“I’m really sorry to break this up, but…” Timothy’s voice trails off.

“Right!” Roman exclaims. “Timothy will need to stay the night until we can jumpstart his car.”

“Of course,” Patton says, reluctantly pulling away from Roman and Virgil in order to smile at Timothy. “I’ll make up the couch for you!”

Despite Virgil and Patton wanting to cling to Roman for the next month, he insisted that he needed a shower, as he hadn’t had a proper one in days.

“I wouldn’t mind if you joined me,” he mutters to them with a wink, “but I think it’s unfair to leave Timothy out here all on his own.”

So the two had relented and stayed out in the living room with Timothy. Patton made him a cup of hot chocolate to help him warm up until he could have a turn in the shower.

“Sorry guys,” Timothy says as he accepts a mug from Patton. “I know you probably want to be alone tonight.”

“Timothy, you got him to us,” Patton says. “Letting you stay is the absolute least we could do.”

“Besides, putting up with his ego is tiring enough,” Virgil says.

Timothy laughs at that, leaning back against the couch with a sigh. “I’m just excited to get back to my sisters…” he says, staring up at the ceiling. “One of them is in drama at her high school and she can’t stop talking about this monologue she’s been writing. She’s so excited to show it to me.”

“That’s precious,” Patton says with a soft smile. “We’ll make sure you have everything you need to get home as soon as possible tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you’ve gotta get back to your family,” Virgil agrees, nodding.

Timothy gives them a small smile. “Thanks guys.

Once Roman was out of the shower and Timothy was settled, they retreated to their room. Roman dropped his suit case and flopped onto the bed face first. “Home sweet home!” he shouts, his voice muffled as his head was buried in the sheets.

Patton and Virgil exchanged grins before both of them jumped on top of Roman, making the other gasp and try to turn over. As soon as he was on his back, Patton and Virgil started peppering his face with kisses, making Roman laugh. He wraps his arms around his boyfriends, sitting up and pulling them into his lap, upsetting their kissing advantage. Nevertheless, they laughed as Roman squeezed them tightly, swinging them gently back and forth like a child who just got a new stuffed toy.

Roman started peppering them with kisses, causing the giggling to increase. After a moment, he slowed down, giving both of them a long, slow kiss on the lips before falling back onto the bed with Patton and Virgil in his arms. The two snuggled closer to him, enjoying the feeling of Roman in their arms again.

“I love you two,” Roman mutters. The exhaustion of being in a car for so long, plus pushing it down the street, was clearly taking its toll.

“We love you,” Virgil says, nuzzling his head into the crook of Roman’s neck.

“What he said,” Patton says, making both of them laugh. Patton, being closest to the one lamp that was on, rolled over to turn it off, only to snuggle even closer to Roman.

They grow quiet after that, all of them starting to doze off a little, but mostly they were thinking about the elephant in the room. Yes, it was good for Roman to be home, but the bed still felt a little too empty.

“I hope he’s okay,” Virgil mutters into the darkness.  

Roman hugs Virgil tighter. “Logan knows what he’s doing.”

Patton sighs, reaching across Roman’s chest to intertwine his fingers with Virgil’s. They rest flat on Roman’s chest, and both of them could feel his heartbeat. “I hope so.”

“He’ll be in touch soon loves,” Roman says with a yawn. “I’m sure of it.”

Virgil and Patton smile at Roman’s sleepy voice. They both press a soft kiss to his cheeks as he nods off. Patton squeezes Virgil’s hand in comfort. “Try to rest?” he whispers.

Virgil runs his thumb over Patton’s own. “Only if you promise.”

Patton let’s out a small laugh. “Okay.”

“Both of you sleep,” Roman mutters.

That got a chuckle out of both of them, and they press closer to him. “Yes Princey,” Virgil says mockingly. Roman’s only response was to kiss his forehead.

Eventually they all nodded off, and even though Logan was still at the front of their minds, it was the best sleep any of them had gotten in weeks.

A/N: Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter! I wanted to get Roman home first so the next chapter or two will focus completely on Logan! Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about him :) 

Chapter 4

[long-liv-prairies]

Song Meme

｢ RULES: ｣ - post a song that reminds you of your muse and then tag people whose songs you want to see.

I was tagged by @idrelle-miocovani. I made a pretty long list of titles HERE the other day for @ma-sulevin, but I’ll put here lyrics for my OCs and pairs. :)

I’m going to put the answer below a cut because this is long!

Naomi Westerkamp - Satisfied in You (Psalm 42) by The Sing Team I like this song for Naomi because it is based on a psalm about hope and finding comfort in the midst of pain. Naomi often turns to her faith after coming to Thedas, and Psalm 42 is one of those passages that have helped her.

I have lost my appetite And a flood is welling up behind my eyes So I eat the tears I cry

And if that were not enough They know just the words to cut and tear and prod When they ask me "Whereʼs your God?"

Why are you downcast, oh my soul? Why so disturbed within me? I can remember when you showed your face to me As a deer pants for water, so my soul thirsts for you And when I survey Your splendor, You so faithfully renew Like a bed of rest for my fainting flesh

When Iʼm looking at the ground Itʼs an inbred feedback loop that drags me down So itʼs time to lift my brow And remember better days When I loved to worship you and learn your ways Singing sweetest songs of praise

Let my sighs give way to songs that sing about your faithfulness Let my pain reveal your glory as my only real rest Let my losses show me all I truly have is you

So when Iʼm drowning out at sea And all your breakers and your waves crash down on me Iʼll recall your safety scheme Youʼre the one who made the waves And your Son went out to suffer in my place And to show me that Iʼm safe

Why am I down? Why so disturbed? I am satisfied in you

James Westerkamp - Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons I just... can’t help but think of James when listening to this song. He’s prickly sometimes, and doesn’t get along with everyone, but he would do anything to protect the people he loves. And the verses just fit some of the fear and hopelessness he sometimes feels. He is not often very happy at his point.

I'm bleeding out Said if the last thing that I do Is to bring you down I'll bleed out for you So I bear my skin And I count my sins And I close my eyes And I take it in And I'm bleeding out I'm bleeding out for you (for you)

When the day has come But I've lost my way around And the seasons stop and hide beneath the ground When the sky turns gray And everything is screaming I will reach inside Just to find my heart is beating

You tell me to hold on Oh you tell me to hold on But innocence is gone And what was right is wrong

'Cause I'm bleeding out Said if the last thing that I do Is to bring you down I'll bleed out for you So I bear my skin And I count my sins And I close my eyes And I take it in And I'm bleeding out I'm bleeding out for you (for you)

When the hour is nigh And hopelessness is sinking in And the wolves all cry To feel they're not worth hollering When your eyes are red And emptiness is all you know With the darkness fed I will be your scarecrow

You tell me to hold on Oh you tell me to hold on But innocence is gone And what was right is wrong

'Cause I'm bleeding out Said if the last thing that I do Is to bring you down I'll bleed out for you So I bear my skin And I count my sins And I close my eyes And I take it in And I'm bleeding out I'm bleeding out for you (for you)

Nassella Lavellan - I Never Told You by Colbie Caillat I wish I had a better song for Nassella, one that encompasses more of her entire journey. But I think this is a good song for what is coming in these last chapters...

I miss those blue eyes How you kiss me at night I miss the way we sleep

Like there's no sunrise Like the taste of your smile I miss the way we breathe

But I never told you What I should have said No, I never told you I just held it in

And now, I miss everything about you Can't believe that I still want you And after all the things we've been through I miss everything about you Without you, oh

I see your blue eyes Every time I close mine You make it hard to see Where I belong to When I'm not around you It's like I'm not with me

But I never told you What I should have said No, I never told you I just held it in

And now, I miss everything about you (still you're gone) Can't believe that I still want you (loving you I should have never walked away) And after all the things we've been through (I know it's never going to come again) I miss everything about you Without you

Naomi and James - Hey Brother by Avicii I don’t know, this song is just perfect for these two. It even has a sky falling down in the lyrics!

Hey brother! There's an endless road to rediscover Hey sister! Know the water's sweet but blood is thicker Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

Hey brother! Do you still believe in one another? Hey sister! Do you still believe in love? I wonder Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

What if I'm far from home? Oh brother, I will hear you call! What if I lose it all? Oh sister, I will help you hang on! Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

Hey brother! There's an endless road to rediscover Hey sister! Do you still believe in love? I wonder Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

What if I'm far from home? Oh brother, I will hear you call! What if I lose it all? Oh sister, I will help you hang on! Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

Naomi and Cullen - Home by Phillip Phillips I think this song captures how these two have found love and strength in each other.

Hold on, to me as we go As we roll down this unfamiliar road And although this wave is stringing us along Just know you’re not alone 'Cause I’m going to make this place your home

Settle down, it'll all be clear Don't pay no mind to the demons They fill you with fear The trouble it might drag you down If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone 'Cause I’m going to make this place your home

Settle down, it'll all be clear Don't pay no mind to the demons They fill you with fear The trouble it might drag you down If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone 'Cause I’m going to make this place your home

James and Nassella - Collide by Howie Day I think I’ve hinted enough that this is where these two are heading ;)

The dawn is breaking A light shining through You're barely waking And I'm tangled up in you Yeah

I'm open, you're closed Where I follow, you'll go I worry I won't see your face Light up again

Even the best fall down sometimes Even the wrong words seem to rhyme Out of the doubt that fills my mind I somehow find You and I collide

I'm quiet you know You make a first impression I've found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind

Even the best fall down sometimes Even the stars refuse to shine Out of the back you fall in time I somehow find You and I collide

Don't stop here I've lost my place I'm close behind

Even the best fall down sometimes Even the wrong words seem to rhyme Out of the doubt that fills your mind You finally find You and I collide

You finally find You and I collide You finally find You and I collide

Bonus! The song that inspired the fic’s title! Neither Angels, Nor Demons, Nor Powers by Timothy C. Takach Psalms 121:1 - Felicia Dorothea Hemans - Romans 8:38-39 - Revelation 7:17

And I believe. So I believe. I will lift my eyes to the hills. There, dost thou well believe, no storm should come To mar the stillness of that angel-home; There should thy slumbers be Weighed down with honey-dew, serenely blessed. And I believe. So I believe. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, neither angels, nor demons, nor powers, neither things present nor things to come, neither height nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God. I do believe. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.