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Headache, sore throat, crazy sinuses, ear ache ... all this gives the mood to write J2-cuddling :-D
ALSO for earthquakedream who asked for this a few weeks ago when I was timestamping. Sorry so late bb!
The convention goes smoother than most. Travelling had been smooth with no setbacks, staff working the thing are more on top than they’d ever seen before to keep things moving along, and admission was limited so the crowds are less intimidating. Jared and Jensen coast through the day with ease and smiles and laughter. But there’s a moment when Jensen watches Jared and he spots the sheen of perspiration down his neck and across the bit of chest shown by opened buttons. Then he notices the way Jared’s smiles stop reaching the far edges of his face and how the eyes are getting lazier as the day wears on. Jensen gives a few strange looks, tipping his head just so, mentally asking, “You sure you’re not sick?” but Jared goes right along as usual.
When they’re done, Jared gets close to Jensen and says quietly, “I’m drained. Staying behind tonight.”
“What about call tomorrow?” Jensen asks, trying to work out how early Jared would have to get up in the morning and still make it on set. It’s just a few seconds thought to know that no matter how early the first flight is, he wouldn’t.
“Gonna call ‘em, go in late.”
Jensen takes a long look. “You okay, man?”
Jared rubs a hand over the side of his head then through his hair. “Head’s not gonna survive a plane ride.”
A tiny smirk works its way on Jensen’s face. “You really are sick.”
“Not sick. Just a headache,” Jared grimaces. When Jensen won’t relent on a smug smile, Jared shakes his head. “I’ll see ya in Vancouver,” he half smiles, half frowns, and walks away.
*
Jensen opens the door, trying so quietly to make his way into the room. He slowly shuts the door, creeps gently across the carpet, but none of it matters because Jared’s passed out. His body is angled across the bed in such a way that there’s no hope for Jensen to grab his own spot. He still toes off his shoes and settles into one corner of the mattress, curled into himself so as to not disturb Jared’s sleep.
He takes in the scatter of Jared’s hair over his forehead. And the way his hands are tucked into the blankets, both planted under his chin. Jensen sees the grey marks under Jared’s eyes, no longer covered by makeup and washed out with lights. Jared looks tired. And so is Jensen, falling asleep soon after shutting his eyes.
He’s awake later with the shift in the bed and a hand on his hip. When he cracks an eye open, Jared is scooting closer and mumbles, “What’re you doing here?”
Jensen’s hand lands on Jared’s cheek and he shuts his eyes again. “You look like shit.”
“Your sweet talk’s gettin’ better,” Jared murmurs.
His hand moves to Jared’s forehead, judging just how hot he really is. Jared’s skin is flushed and clammy, and Jensen again feels Jared’s cheek. “Well, I know you’ve got low expectations.”
“You just keep getting better.” Jared pulls Jensen’s hand of his face, but keeps hold on the wrist. “Why’re you here?”
“Not gonna get any work done without you in the morning anyway.”
Jared’s eyes slip shut and he takes a deep breath before grumbling, “Don’t need a nurse.”
“I look horrible in scrubs anyway.”
He snorts and shakes his head, like he’s trying to not be amused. “Million fans say different.” Jared then even harder to ignore Jensen’s presence when the guy slips closer and turns his hand into Jared’s. “I’m not sick.”
Jensen smirks, not missing the way Jared sniffles. “Course you’re not.”
“’M not,” he says with an angry push in his voice.
“Glad I checked then. I’ll let you sleep.” Jensen gets just one foot on the floor when Jared pulls him right back in. Quickly and easily, Jensen’s on his back with Jared leaning into him and his face against Jensen’s neck. Jensen’s hand rests at the back of Jared’s neck, sweeping fingers then squeezing lightly. “Drinking enough?”
“Don’t think a beer will help.”
Jensen turns his head, speaks right at Jared’s hair with a smirk. “Meant juice and water.”
“Enough.”
“Need more than enough.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Jared settles in closer, heavier, and Jensen slips a leg between Jared’s so they’re touching from a lock of feet all the way up to their faces. It’s a position they’re used to now, natural for them to slide into with palms pressed comfortingly at hips and backs, warmth pressed in tight. Jared’s breath is hot on his neck. It’s a welcome feeling, but Jensen’s also a little tense and says so. “You get me sick, I swear to God - ”
“I’ll snuggle right back.”
Jensen chuckles a breath out.
“Promise,” he mumbles.
He kisses Jared’s forehead. “Alright. Just rest.”
Jared tucks in tighter. “Yes, sir."
ALSO for earthquakedream who asked for this a few weeks ago when I was timestamping. Sorry so late bb!
The convention goes smoother than most. Travelling had been smooth with no setbacks, staff working the thing are more on top than they’d ever seen before to keep things moving along, and admission was limited so the crowds are less intimidating. Jared and Jensen coast through the day with ease and smiles and laughter. But there’s a moment when Jensen watches Jared and he spots the sheen of perspiration down his neck and across the bit of chest shown by opened buttons. Then he notices the way Jared’s smiles stop reaching the far edges of his face and how the eyes are getting lazier as the day wears on. Jensen gives a few strange looks, tipping his head just so, mentally asking, “You sure you’re not sick?” but Jared goes right along as usual.
When they’re done, Jared gets close to Jensen and says quietly, “I’m drained. Staying behind tonight.”
“What about call tomorrow?” Jensen asks, trying to work out how early Jared would have to get up in the morning and still make it on set. It’s just a few seconds thought to know that no matter how early the first flight is, he wouldn’t.
“Gonna call ‘em, go in late.”
Jensen takes a long look. “You okay, man?”
Jared rubs a hand over the side of his head then through his hair. “Head’s not gonna survive a plane ride.”
A tiny smirk works its way on Jensen’s face. “You really are sick.”
“Not sick. Just a headache,” Jared grimaces. When Jensen won’t relent on a smug smile, Jared shakes his head. “I’ll see ya in Vancouver,” he half smiles, half frowns, and walks away.
*
Jensen opens the door, trying so quietly to make his way into the room. He slowly shuts the door, creeps gently across the carpet, but none of it matters because Jared’s passed out. His body is angled across the bed in such a way that there’s no hope for Jensen to grab his own spot. He still toes off his shoes and settles into one corner of the mattress, curled into himself so as to not disturb Jared’s sleep.
He takes in the scatter of Jared’s hair over his forehead. And the way his hands are tucked into the blankets, both planted under his chin. Jensen sees the grey marks under Jared’s eyes, no longer covered by makeup and washed out with lights. Jared looks tired. And so is Jensen, falling asleep soon after shutting his eyes.
He’s awake later with the shift in the bed and a hand on his hip. When he cracks an eye open, Jared is scooting closer and mumbles, “What’re you doing here?”
Jensen’s hand lands on Jared’s cheek and he shuts his eyes again. “You look like shit.”
“Your sweet talk’s gettin’ better,” Jared murmurs.
His hand moves to Jared’s forehead, judging just how hot he really is. Jared’s skin is flushed and clammy, and Jensen again feels Jared’s cheek. “Well, I know you’ve got low expectations.”
“You just keep getting better.” Jared pulls Jensen’s hand of his face, but keeps hold on the wrist. “Why’re you here?”
“Not gonna get any work done without you in the morning anyway.”
Jared’s eyes slip shut and he takes a deep breath before grumbling, “Don’t need a nurse.”
“I look horrible in scrubs anyway.”
He snorts and shakes his head, like he’s trying to not be amused. “Million fans say different.” Jared then even harder to ignore Jensen’s presence when the guy slips closer and turns his hand into Jared’s. “I’m not sick.”
Jensen smirks, not missing the way Jared sniffles. “Course you’re not.”
“’M not,” he says with an angry push in his voice.
“Glad I checked then. I’ll let you sleep.” Jensen gets just one foot on the floor when Jared pulls him right back in. Quickly and easily, Jensen’s on his back with Jared leaning into him and his face against Jensen’s neck. Jensen’s hand rests at the back of Jared’s neck, sweeping fingers then squeezing lightly. “Drinking enough?”
“Don’t think a beer will help.”
Jensen turns his head, speaks right at Jared’s hair with a smirk. “Meant juice and water.”
“Enough.”
“Need more than enough.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Jared settles in closer, heavier, and Jensen slips a leg between Jared’s so they’re touching from a lock of feet all the way up to their faces. It’s a position they’re used to now, natural for them to slide into with palms pressed comfortingly at hips and backs, warmth pressed in tight. Jared’s breath is hot on his neck. It’s a welcome feeling, but Jensen’s also a little tense and says so. “You get me sick, I swear to God - ”
“I’ll snuggle right back.”
Jensen chuckles a breath out.
“Promise,” he mumbles.
He kisses Jared’s forehead. “Alright. Just rest.”
Jared tucks in tighter. “Yes, sir."