(no subject)

[longsufferingly]

Part one.


Jared has a very mundane dream that night--he's flying over the community in a plane, watching the scenery pass under him. He likes the feeling, but when he wakes up, he can't help feeling disappointed.

Jensen looks over at him as they get out of bed. "You slept well?" he asks.

"No memories," says Jared. "Just dreams."

Jensen nods. "I had a good memory." He looks at Jared. "I don't know exactly what it was, but it was nice."

Jared smiles. "I'm glad," he says, and means it.

More people share memories at the morning ceremony, not dreams, but Jared is most conscious of the little pill he picked up with his food, sitting at the edge of his plate. He can see Jensen's out of the corner of his eye, and he wonders how they're going to get rid of them.

Aldis is telling his dream--he was in some kind of vehicle, watching all kinds of animals whose names he didn't even know--when Jensen casually picks up his pill, bringing it up to his mouth. He glances at Jared, smiles, and Jared sees him drop the pill in his pocket before he takes a drink of water, as if he's washing it down.

Hands shaking, Jared does the same, manages to thank Aldis for his dream in a steady voice, and he's completely recovered by the time he shares his own.

*

Jared's missed his plane in the last few days--he never feels more like himself than he does when he's flying. The fields are a little ways outside the city, and Jared stops by four or five in a day, getting as many different crops as he has room for. He likes the work, a chance to use his hands for moving supplies, and the freedom of flight, of being on his own.

Today, of course, he can't concentrate.

Having the Receiver's blessing, although he didn't quite say it so directly, makes Jared feel better--the Receiver is very powerful, so it doesn't feel as much like he's doing something wrong. He's nervous for other reasons now. He doesn't even know what Jensen thinks they're going to do, or what he thinks. If they're going to do anything.

Jared doesn't even know what he wants, because there are too many things.

He gets back early and waits for Jensen, feeling a little nervous. He does it with some regularity, but it feels different this time, when they're sharing these secrets.

"Hi," says Jensen, looking pleased when he sees Jared. "I'll be ready to go in a few minutes," he adds. "The inspection got put off, but it's still coming." He looks away, seeming nervous. "I guess everyone's a little behind, but everything keeps on moving."

Jared nods. "I guess it has to," he says.

Jensen looks at him. "Come on in, I can show you my prototype wing."

Jared follows, and Jensen closes the door. "This way, it's over here," he says, and Jared follows him into the back corner of the room. It doesn't look like there's anything there, and when he turns to ask Jensen, Jensen is very close to him.

"I've been wanting to try this since yesterday," says Jensen quietly. "I couldn't wait." He leans closer to Jared. "The camera can't see back here," he says. He puts his hand on the back of Jared's neck, the touch like an electric shock, and pulls Jared down. Jared knew he was a little taller than Jensen, but he feels it now, feels large, and then Jensen's lips are touching his, like the two males in the memory he saw.

Jensen's lips are different from his skin--a different kind of soft, a little wet, like maybe he just licked them.

Jared doesn't know what to do with his hands, so he just brings them up to hold Jensen's elbows, keeping him close, because he doesn't want Jensen to stop.

Jensen must get the message, because he presses a little closer and licks across Jared's lips, and Jared gasps. He feels Jensen smile, and then the push of Jensen's tongue into his mouth. It's so completely unexpected Jared pulls away, and he sees Jensen's terrified look.

"I apolog--" Jensen starts, and Jared pulls him back in and pushes their lips together again, clumsier than Jensen, but he wants it back. This time, he lets Jensen in, and Jensen's tongue touches against his, strokes over it, and Jared feels warm and hot all over, pinpricks of sensation all over his body like everything in him has just woken up.

Jensen pulls back slowly, looking dazed, but not scared. Jared feels how Jensen looks.

"What was that?" Jared asks, his voice sounding strange in his own ears.

"A kiss," says Jensen, softly.

"Oh," says Jared. He swallows. "We should do it more often."

Jensen licks his lips and says something, but Jared is totally distracted by his tongue. Jared knows what that feels like, and it's--he doesn't have the words.

He's never felt so imprecise. He doesn't know if the language for this exists anymore.

He's struck by a sudden memory and he giggles.

"What?" Jensen asks.

"I had a dream," says Jared. "It was like the memory with the puppy, but it wasn't the puppy licking me. It was you." He looks away, scratching the back of his neck. "I didn't know why I liked it." He smiles. "I guess I do now."

Jensen smiles back, brighter than Jared has ever seen.

"We should get home," Jared says hesitantly. He leans his forehead against Jensen's and gives him another kiss, although not for as long. "We'll miss the evening meal."

"I thought we probably should," Jensen admits. "I didn't know what I'd say for the sharing of feelings."

Jared laughs. "I guess not."

Jensen looks up at Jared, and then looks away again, still smiling. "I--" he laughs a little. "I always noticed you. From when you started training." He bites his lip. "You have the best smile."

It feels heavy, and Jared knows what Jensen means. He's always been aware of Jensen, ever since they first met. Jensen has been there, in the periphery of his vision, and he'll always turn his head to look, every time.

Jared swallows, hard. "We should go home," he repeats. "There isn't a camera in our room."

"We've probably missed the meal by now," Jensen agrees. He steps away from Jared, and Jared almost reaches for him as he moves.

They ride their bikes home in silence, but Jared doesn't feel worried. Jensen noticed him. And Jared feels overwhelmed--it's only been three days, and he wonders what it means, that he's willing to change himself so fast.

He always thought he was happy, but then he remembers how he felt when Jensen applied for a spouse.

Jared stops dead. Jensen applied for a spouse. Jensen will be matched soon, and meet some female with complementary attributes, and move out of Jared's room, and Jared will have no reason to see him. Now, Jared can wait for him at work because they go the same place, but once Jensen has his own family unit, it will be different.

"Jared?" asks Jensen, stopping too.

"You're getting a spouse," says Jared. "That's what you meant, when you said everything is still moving. You're going to be assigned a spouse."

Jensen looks away, and that's answer enough.

"I wasn't going to," Jensen admits. "I know everyone does, but I kept putting it off. I was--happy," he says, like the word feels as inadequate to him as it does to Jared now. "My superiors at the field brought me in. Asked if I wouldn't be interested in starting a family unit." He looks miserable. "I filled out the application with them watching me," he says.

Jared doesn't know what to say. He assumed, he'd get a spouse and a family unit someday, because everyone does, but--he'd never thought about doing it.

"How long?" Jared asks.

Jensen shrugs. "I don't know. They take their time to make sure it's right, but--I don't know."

"Let's go home," Jared says, with more force, and starts pedaling before Jensen can respond.

*

They eat their evening meal quickly and then return to their room. Jensen seems nervous, upset, and as soon as he's closed the door, Jared pushes in close for another kiss. Jensen makes a noise that might mean relief, as if he thought Jared would stop because he was going to have a spouse soon.

Desire, Jared thinks. Right now, he can see how it would be dangerous, how it would make everything so difficult. But he can't imagine anyone ever giving it up.

"Jared," Jensen gasps, as Jared moves his mouth down Jensen's face. He doesn't know why--maybe there's some far-off memory, maybe it's instinct, maybe he just likes how Jensen tastes, but he's glad when he does. "We should be quiet. Careful," he says.

"You'll want to be loud," Jared says, remember how hard it was to keep quiet the other night, when he was by himself.

"How do you know?" Jensen asks, pulling back with surprise.

Jared looks away. "I had that dream, and I--whatever your Stirrings were, I had that. I thought I was hurt, and I started--touching it, and it felt good." He laughs, a little shakily. "Not that we--"

"In the memory, when they kissed, they were lying down," Jensen says. He smiles at Jared. "I apologize for interrupting."

Jared laughs then, pulling Jensen to his bed. "I accept your apology," he says, and then there are more kisses, more than Jared can count, short and long and everything between, until Jared is breathless with it.

His hands slip under Jensen's tunic, finally, feeling the skin that's softer, or feels it--the hidden skin no one sees.

"Jared," Jensen breathes, and then he's pulling his tunic off, and Jared puts his hands everywhere, tracing the dips and curves of Jensen's body.

His parents took the pills. They never did this. They slept in two different rooms. It's like a secret no one has ever learned but them, something Jared feels selfish for keeping to himself. Everyone is supposed to have the same things, or equal ones, but this is his.

Jensen is his.

Jensen pulls on Jared's tunic and Jared lets him remove it, pulling Jensen back so they're pressed up together, and Jared knows about nerves, about how his fingertips feel differently from other parts of his body, but he's not prepared for what it's like to have the skin of Jensen's torso against his.

There are more kisses, and Jensen's fingers on his tunic, and Jared finds himself pushing his hips down without realizing it, finding Jensen with more of his body, gasping at the sensation against his hard flesh, so different from his hand.

"That's what it feels like?" Jensen asks breathlessly.

"I can--" Jared starts, and reaches down, into Jensen's trousers, and--touches.

Jensen gasps, pushing his face against Jared's neck to muffle the noise.

It's a different angle, and Jensen is already slick at the top, so Jared just does his best, tries to judge if Jensen feels good by the sound of his whimpers, and feels validated when Jensen squirts on his fingers.

"Oh," says Jensen. He stares at Jared for a long moment, like he's coming back to himself, and Jared remembers that part too. Then Jensen gives him a kiss and pushes his hand against Jared, returning the favor and it's different. It's Jensen, and Jared is amazed how much that changes things, changes how he feels.

It's so much better.

After, Jensen lies next to him and they keep trading kisses, as many as they can, until it's all one long kiss and keeps going until they fall asleep, all tangled together, lips still touching.

*

Three days later, and Jared finally has another memory, a dream of pain like he's never felt--a bang, a flash of light, something hard and fast ripping through his shoulder, tearing through his flesh and bone, and then lying on the ground for what feels like hours, feeling himself getting weaker and weaker, his arm useless, his whole body one giant ache.

Jensen finally wakes him up and holds him, murmurs in his ear, drops kisses on his hair and his forehead and everywhere, trying to make him feel better, and Jared wants to, but he can barely move.

Jared knows it's not a punishment--it can't be, because no one gave him the memory. But it still feels somehow, like a warning.

This is what it's like, when things change. It cannot all be good.

*

Jared can't move quite right when he wakes up again, and he's happy for the excuse to lean on Jensen as they walk. He asks the speaker for relief of pain, but the speaker responds it isn't authorized for memory-related injuries. He reports that he won't be able to work today and lets Jensen help him back to their room. He looks wildly concerned and miserable, but he has no reason not to work, so he presses a kiss to Jared's forehead and leaves, and Jared feels like all the good things in the world go with him.

He manages to bring himself down to eat at the midday meal, which is specially delivered for him and Tom, who also had a memory hurt him. Something happened to his leg, and he can't move it well enough to ride his bike. The air field is too far to walk.

"I don't see how anyone ever lived like that," Tom mutters. "It all seems dangerous, terrible. I'm glad I live now."

Jared hurts all over, but he thinks of Jensen, of how much more he likes Jensen's smile now, of how much brighter the world seems because he has Jensen in this new way, and he can't say he agrees.

"There were good things too," says Jared hesitantly. "You got that memory in the water."

"Not good enough," says Tom.

You'll never have a kiss, Jared thinks.

He wonders if Jonas had any memories of kisses.

He feels well enough after lunch to walk to the Receiver's dwelling, behind the House of the Old. He knocks, and is admitted, and the female working lets him through without comment.

"Jared," says the Receiver, surprised. "I don't think I've seen anyone else as much as you."

"What was it like to have a spouse before?" Jared asks.

"It varied," says the Receiver, apparently not surprised by the question, or offended by the rudeness. "Sometimes, spouses were chosen poorly. There were disagreements, even violence." He smiles. "When it was good--they loved each other."

"Love?" Jared asks.

"You've seen a lot of it," says the Receiver. "The warm feelings, like you had for the dog, or like the family you saw had for each other."

"The thing that feels too large for my chest?" Jared asks. He doesn't think the Receiver will mind that he's imprecise. He thinks the Receiver must know how inadequate language is.

"Yes," says the Receiver.

"How I feel about Jensen," says Jared.

The Receiver looks at him for a long time, as if he's trying to decide. "I didn't expect anyone to find it so soon," he says. "I thought it would take much longer for the change to come. Perhaps," he says, "you were simply closer than others. But yes. How you feel about Jensen."

Jared pauses, and considers his words. "Sir."

"Yes?"

"How could you have expected anyone to do anything?" he asks.

The Receiver pauses, and then smiles. "Because I knew Jonas was leaving. Because he believed--if he left, he could make it better for us." He looks at Jared. "And I think you are the first to understand why it was bad before." The Receiver nods. "Jonas wanted things to change, Jared."

"Do you think they will?" asks Jared.

"I hope so," says the Receiver.

"But not soon," Jared says slowly.

"It will take time. Why?"

Jared looks away. "Before--Jonas left," he says. "Jensen applied for a spouse."

"I thought he was rather old to be without one," the Receiver agrees. He smiles again, a distant smile, as if he's looking somewhere far away. "I always wondered if they were able to remove that particular trait," he says. "It isn't as obvious as blue eyes or red hair. I never was sure."

"Sir?" asks Jared.

The Receiver looks back at him. "I don't think that will change for a very long time."

Jared nods. He bites his lip. "Where did Jonas go?"

"Elsewhere," says the Receiver.

"But he didn't apply for release--" says Jared.

"Do not apply for release, Jared," says the Receiver sharply. "It won't help you." He nods. "Jonas ran away. I don't know where he went. I don't know if there was anywhere for him to go." He smiles. "But it was the only way."

"For change," says Jared.

"Yes."

*

Their feelings at dinner are simple: Jared, pain and despair. Jensen, anxiousness, about his coming inspection.

But as soon as they're back in the room, Jensen is looking him over, every inch, to make sure he's all right.

"I was so worried," says Jensen, holding Jared close on the bed once he's satisfied. "I could barely think."

"Love," says Jared, absently.

"What?" asks Jensen.

"Love," says Jared again. "That's the word for how I feel about you." He smiles and presses a kiss to Jensen's temple. "That warm, happy feeling."

"Oh," says Jensen. "I love you too," he says simply, and Jared holds him close and goes to sleep.

*

Jensen's inspection goes well, and Jared's plane's wings are scheduled to be repaired, and the world returns somewhat to normal. Once a week, there are meetings to discuss the memories, and the Receiver patiently explains things like animals and colors and war and pain. Most of them are words Jared knew before, but he never understood them until now.

Jared and Jensen sleep in the same bed every night, and sneak kisses when they can, and more when they want. They never take their pills anymore.

It's not enough change, because four weeks after Jared's first memory, Jensen is assigned his spouse.

"Her name is Erica," says Jensen in a dull voice. "She's an instructor of fives."

Jared bites his lip and looks at the picture. He can't tell anything from it.

"We've very compatible," Jensen says, and throws the file against the wall. It's so thin, it barely makes a sound.

Jared doesn't know where to look. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how it's possible to be dreading something so much and still have it come as a complete surprise.

He wraps his arms around Jensen, pulling him in close.

"I haven't applied for a spouse," he says shakily, "so they didn't see I was a better match."

Jensen laughs, but it sounds like he might cry at any moment. "Well, whose fault is that."

Jared brushes his nose against Jensen's hair, closes his eyes and breathes him in.

"The new Receiver, Jonas," he says softly. "He ran away."

Jensen blinks, looking up at him. "What?"

"He left to find somewhere different. Somewhere--" Jared's mouth twists on the word. "Better."

"Because he didn't want the memories?" Jensen asks, still confused.

Jared shakes his head. "Because he did."

Jared can see the second that Jensen understands. "You want to leave," he says.

"I want to leave," Jared agrees evenly.

"Because I'm getting a spouse?"

"Yes," says Jared. He smiles. "Because I don't care about anything else. Not like I care about you."

Jensen looks away. "Where would we go?"

Jared smiles. "I have a plane."

"They'd look for us. A plane would be easy to find."

"There are trees. Forests. I've seen them. We could hide it." Jared pauses. "I've been thinking about it. Sometimes."

"Jared," Jensen says.

"We could," says Jared.

"We don't know what's out there," says Jensen. "We don't know if there's anything better."

Jared looks at the file Jensen threw, with the picture of the girl who makes him so angry, even though she's done nothing wrong.

"But we know what's here," says Jared, softly. "If we stay here, you'll have your spouse, and your family unit, a few kisses from me when I can stay late. And then I'll have a spouse, and a family unit. And if we're lucky, when we're done raising our families, we'll both be in the same housing for unmarried adults." He pulls Jensen closer, as if he can keep the thought away if he holds tight enough. "I don't want that, Jensen. I don't want to go back."

Jensen leans in, and sighs. He tugs Jared onto the bed, and it's not yes.

But it isn't no either.

*

Jensen meets his spouse for a preliminary discussion of their partnership. Jared doesn't sulk, or pout, or cry. He calculates how far away they could get with a full tank of fuel, how much he more could steal, how much food they could bring.

His plane is small, but there's a seat for a trainee or supervisor, and a cargo hold that could take a few things.

Enough to get them somewhere.

Elsewhere.

*

"She wasn't anything like you," Jensen says.

Jared leans back. "The Receiver said that people chose wrong sometimes. Before. That's why it changed. It was causing all kinds of problems."

Jensen turns on his side, looks Jared up and down. Jared doesn't know what he's looking for, but he knows he'll find it. "They're wrong," he says. "Not me." He leans close to press his nose into the hollow in Jared's collarbone. It's one of his favorite places. "You didn't apply for a spouse, so they couldn't choose well."

"My plane has enough fuel that we could go for a few days. We could take another drum, I know where to find it. If we brought some food and hid it well, we could just lie low until they stopped searching, and then keep going. I know how long it takes before they give up."

Jensen licks his lips; Jared feels the light touch of his tongue, their skin is so close.

"What if there's nothing?" Jensen asks. "What if everything's just the same? Like this?"

"Then we tried," says Jared.

Jensen is quiet for so long that Jared thinks he might have fallen asleep.

"Can we go tonight?" he says, finally.

Jared looks outside. It's dark, and late. The crews have probably all gone. Everything is quiet, still. The air field is so far away, no one would ever hear.

"We can go now," Jared says.

Jensen looks up at him, wide eyes, still unsure. Jared doesn't think there's anything to say.

"All right," says Jensen, and he gets up.

He offers Jared his hand, and Jared takes it. He holds it as they leave the room, leave the building, holds it until they get on their bikes, and go together into the night.