.0045 - Lights. Camera. Action... Smile
Jensen/Jared, Jensen/Danneel, Jared/Genevieve
2,764 words
Director!Jensen
Teaser: "Wha-what am I doin'?" "Freakin' out?" Jared tries, because that is obvious enough. But Jensen's question was evidently aiming somewhere else. "You're directing an episode of Supernatural?"
“I’ve got news!” Jared yells as he bounces the few steps up to Jensen’s trailer, bursting in like a high tide. He doesn’t knock, he rarely ever does, really, but the door was partly open this time anyway. “Our director got lost.”
Jensen pauses for a second, startled. Stopping a mid-step and a mid-chew on his thumb nail, and glances up, barely meeting Jared’s eyes. “Yeah, I heard.”
The light in the trailer is distorting, dimmed, but Jared can still clearly tell that Jensen looks unusually pale, even underneath the light suntan.
He noticed it already, before, when he arrived on the set a couple of hours ago. Jensen looked good then, energetic and self-confident, and everything seemed to be working perfectly. Just the dark shadows under his eyes were slightly betraying.
Now Jensen suddenly appears unsure, nervous. Jared knows he wouldn’t be too far from the truth in thinking that Jensen had spent the last few minutes pacing the limited space between the front door and the bathroom. He’s been doing that a lot lately. He’s freshly showered, which is nothing odd in this scorching, inhuman weather, and drops of water drip from his short, ruffled hair, gliding down his bare chest.
He scratches at his eyebrow, absent-minded, looking up at Jared, before his eyes slide away quickly and he bites on his thumb, frowning.
If he wasn’t worried, Jared would probably laugh, because jittery Jensen is unbelievably endearing. Kinda like a five year old leaning in to kiss the pony-tailed girl who hit him with a plastic rake just a week ago, making him fall deeply, blindly in love.
“What’s wrong, Jensen?” Jared asks, watching Jensen search the contents of his closet; pull out one T-shirt after another, and dismiss them all just as swiftly, piling a heap of clothes on the floor. That is very unlike Jensen, because he’s kind of a neat freak.
Finally, Jensen picks up a pale blue T-shirt with a printing of...something, and tugs it over his head, ceasing again before he slips his arms into the sleeves. “I lost my wedding ring,” he says quietly.
He sounds so grief-stricken, so guilty and resigned that Jared has to smile. Only on the inside though, because he’s sure that Jensen would punch him if he knew. He wonders if Jensen thinks he’ll be scolded, that Danneel would assume he did it on purpose.
“Oh, crap,” he comments, unwittingly glancing down at his left hand to make sure of the presence of his own silver ring. “Where?”
Jensen gives him an incredulous, bewildered look, “If I knew where, it probably wouldn’t be lost, don’t you think?”
Jared chuckles. “I mean, where do you think you lost it? The last place where you had it? When?”
“I don’t... I don’t know,” Jensen shrugs, biting on his lip thoughtfully. “This morning? I... I was going through some notes. Here. Then I went on the set, got back, took a shower. I’ve no idea... I realized that just a while ago.”
“That’s why you disappeared?”
“I realized that something was missing.”
“So did we.” Jared comments, sitting down at the edge of Jensen’s table. It was kind of hard not to notice.
Jensen nods and sighs, raising his hands in a helpless gesture. “Wha-what am I doin’?”
“Freakin’ out?” Jared tries, because that is obvious enough. But Jensen’s question was evidently aiming somewhere else. “You’re directin’ an episode of Supernatural?”
“Exactly,” Jensen humors, looking utterly devastated. “But who does that?”
“Directors?”
“And am I some director, Jay? Do I look like a director to you?”
“Well,” Jared tilts his head ruminatively, measuring Jensen intently bottom up. From the tips of his Chucks to his green, clearly not amused gaze fixed right back at Jared.
There’s a walkie-talkie radio clasped on the leather belt of Jensen’s jeans, and headphones in his front pocket. Taking in the working chaos all around them, all the reams of papers here and there and other directorial equipment he can’t even name, Jared deduces that, “Yeah. You know, like a super cool, super hot director extraordinaire.”
Jensen snorts and shakes his head, but there’s a tired smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Jared pulls away from the table and puts his hands on Jensen’s shoulders, gripping them firmly but careful enough not to bruise. “You are a director. This time. You finally got the chance to try it. And you’re doin’ great... You’re really awesome, you know? Mark said it well, you understand. You’re a present-actor director and that’s unbelievably helpful.” His forehead wrinkles when his voice drops to a gravely sad, regretful tone. “I’m sorry, but you’re never gonna be Michael Bay.”
Jensen nods, pursing his lips tight enough to make Jared believe he’s going to cry. “I could try,” he says hopefully. “I still have the megaphone you gave me.”
“And I bet there’s still the pink bow wrapped around it, huh?”
“There is,” Jensen agrees; still so serious.
If Jared didn’t know him as well as he does, he’d totally buy this make-believe of his.
Jensen slips Jared’s hold and takes a few steps back, then promptly slides down the wall, fetching a breath. “I’m tired,” he says softly, and there’s absolutely no pretending there this time.
Jensen is a total workaholic, so when he says that he’s tired it’s equal to other people dropping dead to the floor from exhaustion.
“Yeah,” Jared smiles, comprehensive, sympathetically, sitting down beside Jensen. It’s only when he’s fully settled that he realizes he’s perfectly copied Jensen’s posture; elbows resting on bend, spread knees. “Yeah, I know.”
“I’m so fuckin’ tired.” Jensen closes his eyes and his head thuds against the wall behind.
When his stomach rumbles a few minutes later, painfully loud, and Jensen blushes, Jared doesn’t even smile. He’s way too worried to make fun of him.
“Did you eat anything?”
Jensen pauses on that question like Jared asked him to name the last five digits of pi. “Apple?” He ponders.
“You want me to call your mom?” Jared asks menacingly, causing Jensen to open one eye and look at him with a frown.
Jared smirks. “I, uh, actually brought you something,” he remembers finally before he pulls a pack of gummy bears out of the front pocket of his shirt. He drops it in Jensen’s lap, and then lets his hand rest right there. Wrapping his arm around Jensen’s thigh, he strokes the pallid skin of Jensen’s shin bared in the tattered hole in his jeans, running his fingers gently up and down through the fine blond hairs.
Jensen opens his eyes and looks down at the package, then smiles, “Thanks.”
He tears the pack open and offers it to Jared, who grabs a handful of the jelly bears, before taking a few of the different colored gummies himself.
“Did you sleep last night?” Jared mumbles around a mouthful of the colored gum that sticks his teeth together like glue. Maybe there really is something in the way Jensen deals with the candy - rolling it around on his tongue, sucking, letting it melt instead of chewing.
“Couldn’t.”
“Before?”
Jensen shakes his head and Jared is close to start panicking. “When did you sleep?!”
“What day is today?”
“God, Jenny,” Jared sighs, using the nickname Jensen hates the most, deliberately, hoping it would make him listen. “You need to sleep, man. Need to relax a while. Eat.”
Jensen stands up abruptly on slightly unstable legs, suddenly remembering what he’s actually supposed to be doing. “Don’t have time for that.”
Jared tugs him resolutely back down by the side pocket of his trouser-leg. “Well, too bad. Make time.”
“I gotta...” Jensen protests, attempting to stand up again, but Jared keeps him down. “They need me there.”
“They’re doing fine,” Jared assures him. “There was some problem with the lightning anyway, they’re working on it.”
So what if he’s lying a bit; Jensen needs a break, just a few minutes, and they all understand. Because they need a director, not the exhausted wreck Jensen’s slowly, albeit unobtrusively becoming. That’s why they didn’t panic, that much, when Jensen took off all of a sudden. They just looked over at Jared; waiting, expecting him to go and fix it. He wasn’t even supposed to be at work today, but of course they all counted on him to be there, to support. Which is exactly what Jared’s been doing. Is doing now.
Jensen sags against the restrains that are Jared’s long, strong arms and his unyielding grip, finally sensing that it’s useless to try and wrench away.
“I’m gonna screw this up,” he says; defeated and reconciled with what he believes is true, even though it is the exact opposite.
“No, you won’t. You know perfectly what you’re doing. What you’re supposed to do.”
“I’m still gonna screw it up.”
“No, you won’t,” Jared repeats, much more emphatically. “You’d have to try real hard to screw it up, and even then we wouldn’t let you... Hey, what do you say I’ll come over tonight? I’ll bring a movie, some food... I could read you some bedtime story and then tuck you in. It’s been a while since we had the chance to hang out... I can add a massage, if you want.”
Jensen offers a weak, dreamy smile. “That sounds great.”
“I’d say.” Jared grins sweetly back. He cocks his head to the side, regarding Jensen for a moment.
Who’d ever thought, six years ago, that Jensen would really get to directing? He was always a technical geek, asking about this and that, talking about that and this, which Jared would have sworn was in a wholly different language, but he used to stay back. Not trusting his abilities, not believing in himself enough to really give it a try.
And yet, when they finally asked, Jensen totally snatched that opportunity. Then called Jared, excited as he had never heard him before. It meant a lot more work, shorter holiday and honeymoon, but Jensen was willing to accept all that and more. Jared forgot to ask if Danneel was also that excited or maybe a bit less.
He holds Jensen’s eyes as he moves his arm, reaching up to touch Jensen’s chin, his lower lip with the knuckles of his hand.
It’s a two-sided movement, but Jared’s sure that he’s the first one actually going for it. He can see Jensen’s eyelids fluttering closed in approval, feels the sigh on his breath before their lips even meet.
Jensen’s lips are smooth, like that of a girl, and sinfully plump, but there’s nothing girly in the way he kisses. It’s gentle and almost lazy at first, unsure, as if he’s only slowly remembering what used to be, how it used to taste and feel. Jared hears himself whimper, loud and embarrassing, when the tip of Jensen’s tongue licks his bottom lip, pushes between his lips, coaxing them open. It’s so easy to give in.
Jared never forgot. Couldn’t. But then again, he always thought he got hit by their ‘fooling’ a little more than Jensen. Or maybe Jensen was just way too addictive.
It’s easy, sometimes, when he looks at his wife; beautiful and fragile, to forget that there used to be something. That us was once a term in between them. The other times, moments when Jensen smiles, or like now, with Jensen’s soft, wet tongue pressing against Jared’s, stroking it and teasing, it’s not. And Jared doesn’t understand how that could ever end. How they could actually walk away from that, from each other without bruises, without falling apart.
They were brought together, forced to work like a two-headed, well-oiled machine, but there was nothing constrained behind their smiles and friendly banter. They really became friends, almost immediately. They just clicked and working together was fun, if maybe a lot more dangerous and tiring than watching the game or kicking each other’s ass in X-box.
But there was a time, somewhere around the break of seasons two and three, before Genevieve came around, before something finally sparked between Jensen and Danneel, when there was more. When falling asleep in each other’s bed and arms was as natural as a half-yawned wish of good morning in the make-up trailer.
It’s gone now; the hunger for touch, for kiss, for becoming one, but something obviously lingers. The longing for contact and proximity, for comfort.
Cupping Jensen’s jaw, Jared runs his thumb over Jensen’s rough cheek, tilting his face slightly for a better angle, deepening the kiss. Losing himself in that moment. It’s unhurried and tender, not triggering or graduating in more, but it still makes Jared’s spine tingle.
Jensen tastes like... Jensen. Still the same, with a sour-sugary, fruity flavor now. Like Jared’s favorite candy.
When Jensen’s palm rests on Jared’s thigh, not moving just resting there, but still unexpected, Jared jerks and bites. Jensen hisses and his hold tightens, fingers digging into the denim of Jared’s pants, and Jared thinks of that memories are bitches. They come unannounced, unwelcome, nudging on his mind and bringing vivid pictures of naked, sweaty, breathless Jensen. Of them.
Eyes closed, Jensen breaks the kiss and pulls back, looking unfairly sexy with his spit-slick, slightly puffed lips, but also taken by surprise, and slightly dazed.
Jared expects him to freak out, because he really does that a lot. But Jensen also rarely does what people expect him to do. When he opens his eyes, he stares straight at Jared. With a gaze that can see deep and entirely too much, even though it doesn’t reveal anything about Jensen. To Jared’s astonishment, Jensen looks fine, relaxed even.
“You... you okay?” Jared asks, stammering over an unexpected downpour of emotions.
“I’m fine. You?”
“Fine. Okay.”
Jensen nods, still smiling, “Good.”
~
“So,” Jared says after a moment of silence. “You alright? Think you can drag your bony ass back on the set?”
“My ass’ not bony,” Jensen mutters, offended, pulling himself back to his feet.
Jared’s smirking as he checks him out. Jensen was right, naturally. His ass isn’t bony; it’s small, firm and sexy. Pretty much perfect. It looks like it was just made to be pinched. Which is exactly what Jared does when Jensen’s not paying attention.
Jensen jumps and squeaks, that is totally the sound he makes, and turns at Jared with an unfriendly scowl. “Jesus, ouch! That actually kinda hurt,” he says reproachfully as he rubs his ass.
“Sorry,” Jared grins innocently. “Couldn’t resist.”
Jensen shakes his head, mumbling something about kids and immature men, while he moves around the trailer, picking up his stuff. He heads for the door and Jared follows, then rams right into Jensen, sending him nearly toppling down the stairs when Jensen suddenly stops.
Regarding his balance, Jensen points back into the trailer, gesturing somewhere towards the couch. “The notebook,” he says. “Grab that for me, can you?”
Jared can, of course; because he is that awesome, and because Jensen’s hands are already full. He picks up the thick notebook and then pauses when his eyes catch a sparkle, a tiny flash of gold. “Hallelujah!”
“’S up?” Jensen questions, poking his head back inside.
Jared picks up the ring between his index finger and thumb, and looks at Jensen through the rounded hole. “Lookie what I found.”
“Oh, thank God.” Jensen breathes out with relief.
“You’re welcome.” Jared utters, narrowing his eyes as he squeezes around Jensen and sets the ringlet on the top of the papers in Jensen’s hands. He’s sure that Jensen’s rolling his eyes behind his back.
“Thank you!” Jensen practically yells, the grains of sand crunching beneath the soles of his shoes as he runs after Jared.
“Yeah.”
Jensen ceases, “Seriously, Jay.”
Deciding to take pity on that guy, Jared smiles and walks the few steps back to Jensen. “Seriously, you’re welcome.” He grabs him in a headlock that Jensen can’t escape no matter what he does, and drags him back on the set.
It’s time for Jensen to keep on playing the cool, composed director he’d been for every of the previous days.
2,764 words
Director!Jensen
Teaser: "Wha-what am I doin'?" "Freakin' out?" Jared tries, because that is obvious enough. But Jensen's question was evidently aiming somewhere else. "You're directing an episode of Supernatural?"
“I’ve got news!” Jared yells as he bounces the few steps up to Jensen’s trailer, bursting in like a high tide. He doesn’t knock, he rarely ever does, really, but the door was partly open this time anyway. “Our director got lost.”
Jensen pauses for a second, startled. Stopping a mid-step and a mid-chew on his thumb nail, and glances up, barely meeting Jared’s eyes. “Yeah, I heard.”
The light in the trailer is distorting, dimmed, but Jared can still clearly tell that Jensen looks unusually pale, even underneath the light suntan.
He noticed it already, before, when he arrived on the set a couple of hours ago. Jensen looked good then, energetic and self-confident, and everything seemed to be working perfectly. Just the dark shadows under his eyes were slightly betraying.
Now Jensen suddenly appears unsure, nervous. Jared knows he wouldn’t be too far from the truth in thinking that Jensen had spent the last few minutes pacing the limited space between the front door and the bathroom. He’s been doing that a lot lately. He’s freshly showered, which is nothing odd in this scorching, inhuman weather, and drops of water drip from his short, ruffled hair, gliding down his bare chest.
He scratches at his eyebrow, absent-minded, looking up at Jared, before his eyes slide away quickly and he bites on his thumb, frowning.
If he wasn’t worried, Jared would probably laugh, because jittery Jensen is unbelievably endearing. Kinda like a five year old leaning in to kiss the pony-tailed girl who hit him with a plastic rake just a week ago, making him fall deeply, blindly in love.
“What’s wrong, Jensen?” Jared asks, watching Jensen search the contents of his closet; pull out one T-shirt after another, and dismiss them all just as swiftly, piling a heap of clothes on the floor. That is very unlike Jensen, because he’s kind of a neat freak.
Finally, Jensen picks up a pale blue T-shirt with a printing of...something, and tugs it over his head, ceasing again before he slips his arms into the sleeves. “I lost my wedding ring,” he says quietly.
He sounds so grief-stricken, so guilty and resigned that Jared has to smile. Only on the inside though, because he’s sure that Jensen would punch him if he knew. He wonders if Jensen thinks he’ll be scolded, that Danneel would assume he did it on purpose.
“Oh, crap,” he comments, unwittingly glancing down at his left hand to make sure of the presence of his own silver ring. “Where?”
Jensen gives him an incredulous, bewildered look, “If I knew where, it probably wouldn’t be lost, don’t you think?”
Jared chuckles. “I mean, where do you think you lost it? The last place where you had it? When?”
“I don’t... I don’t know,” Jensen shrugs, biting on his lip thoughtfully. “This morning? I... I was going through some notes. Here. Then I went on the set, got back, took a shower. I’ve no idea... I realized that just a while ago.”
“That’s why you disappeared?”
“I realized that something was missing.”
“So did we.” Jared comments, sitting down at the edge of Jensen’s table. It was kind of hard not to notice.
Jensen nods and sighs, raising his hands in a helpless gesture. “Wha-what am I doin’?”
“Freakin’ out?” Jared tries, because that is obvious enough. But Jensen’s question was evidently aiming somewhere else. “You’re directin’ an episode of Supernatural?”
“Exactly,” Jensen humors, looking utterly devastated. “But who does that?”
“Directors?”
“And am I some director, Jay? Do I look like a director to you?”
“Well,” Jared tilts his head ruminatively, measuring Jensen intently bottom up. From the tips of his Chucks to his green, clearly not amused gaze fixed right back at Jared.
There’s a walkie-talkie radio clasped on the leather belt of Jensen’s jeans, and headphones in his front pocket. Taking in the working chaos all around them, all the reams of papers here and there and other directorial equipment he can’t even name, Jared deduces that, “Yeah. You know, like a super cool, super hot director extraordinaire.”
Jensen snorts and shakes his head, but there’s a tired smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Jared pulls away from the table and puts his hands on Jensen’s shoulders, gripping them firmly but careful enough not to bruise. “You are a director. This time. You finally got the chance to try it. And you’re doin’ great... You’re really awesome, you know? Mark said it well, you understand. You’re a present-actor director and that’s unbelievably helpful.” His forehead wrinkles when his voice drops to a gravely sad, regretful tone. “I’m sorry, but you’re never gonna be Michael Bay.”
Jensen nods, pursing his lips tight enough to make Jared believe he’s going to cry. “I could try,” he says hopefully. “I still have the megaphone you gave me.”
“And I bet there’s still the pink bow wrapped around it, huh?”
“There is,” Jensen agrees; still so serious.
If Jared didn’t know him as well as he does, he’d totally buy this make-believe of his.
Jensen slips Jared’s hold and takes a few steps back, then promptly slides down the wall, fetching a breath. “I’m tired,” he says softly, and there’s absolutely no pretending there this time.
Jensen is a total workaholic, so when he says that he’s tired it’s equal to other people dropping dead to the floor from exhaustion.
“Yeah,” Jared smiles, comprehensive, sympathetically, sitting down beside Jensen. It’s only when he’s fully settled that he realizes he’s perfectly copied Jensen’s posture; elbows resting on bend, spread knees. “Yeah, I know.”
“I’m so fuckin’ tired.” Jensen closes his eyes and his head thuds against the wall behind.
When his stomach rumbles a few minutes later, painfully loud, and Jensen blushes, Jared doesn’t even smile. He’s way too worried to make fun of him.
“Did you eat anything?”
Jensen pauses on that question like Jared asked him to name the last five digits of pi. “Apple?” He ponders.
“You want me to call your mom?” Jared asks menacingly, causing Jensen to open one eye and look at him with a frown.
Jared smirks. “I, uh, actually brought you something,” he remembers finally before he pulls a pack of gummy bears out of the front pocket of his shirt. He drops it in Jensen’s lap, and then lets his hand rest right there. Wrapping his arm around Jensen’s thigh, he strokes the pallid skin of Jensen’s shin bared in the tattered hole in his jeans, running his fingers gently up and down through the fine blond hairs.
Jensen opens his eyes and looks down at the package, then smiles, “Thanks.”
He tears the pack open and offers it to Jared, who grabs a handful of the jelly bears, before taking a few of the different colored gummies himself.
“Did you sleep last night?” Jared mumbles around a mouthful of the colored gum that sticks his teeth together like glue. Maybe there really is something in the way Jensen deals with the candy - rolling it around on his tongue, sucking, letting it melt instead of chewing.
“Couldn’t.”
“Before?”
Jensen shakes his head and Jared is close to start panicking. “When did you sleep?!”
“What day is today?”
“God, Jenny,” Jared sighs, using the nickname Jensen hates the most, deliberately, hoping it would make him listen. “You need to sleep, man. Need to relax a while. Eat.”
Jensen stands up abruptly on slightly unstable legs, suddenly remembering what he’s actually supposed to be doing. “Don’t have time for that.”
Jared tugs him resolutely back down by the side pocket of his trouser-leg. “Well, too bad. Make time.”
“I gotta...” Jensen protests, attempting to stand up again, but Jared keeps him down. “They need me there.”
“They’re doing fine,” Jared assures him. “There was some problem with the lightning anyway, they’re working on it.”
So what if he’s lying a bit; Jensen needs a break, just a few minutes, and they all understand. Because they need a director, not the exhausted wreck Jensen’s slowly, albeit unobtrusively becoming. That’s why they didn’t panic, that much, when Jensen took off all of a sudden. They just looked over at Jared; waiting, expecting him to go and fix it. He wasn’t even supposed to be at work today, but of course they all counted on him to be there, to support. Which is exactly what Jared’s been doing. Is doing now.
Jensen sags against the restrains that are Jared’s long, strong arms and his unyielding grip, finally sensing that it’s useless to try and wrench away.
“I’m gonna screw this up,” he says; defeated and reconciled with what he believes is true, even though it is the exact opposite.
“No, you won’t. You know perfectly what you’re doing. What you’re supposed to do.”
“I’m still gonna screw it up.”
“No, you won’t,” Jared repeats, much more emphatically. “You’d have to try real hard to screw it up, and even then we wouldn’t let you... Hey, what do you say I’ll come over tonight? I’ll bring a movie, some food... I could read you some bedtime story and then tuck you in. It’s been a while since we had the chance to hang out... I can add a massage, if you want.”
Jensen offers a weak, dreamy smile. “That sounds great.”
“I’d say.” Jared grins sweetly back. He cocks his head to the side, regarding Jensen for a moment.
Who’d ever thought, six years ago, that Jensen would really get to directing? He was always a technical geek, asking about this and that, talking about that and this, which Jared would have sworn was in a wholly different language, but he used to stay back. Not trusting his abilities, not believing in himself enough to really give it a try.
And yet, when they finally asked, Jensen totally snatched that opportunity. Then called Jared, excited as he had never heard him before. It meant a lot more work, shorter holiday and honeymoon, but Jensen was willing to accept all that and more. Jared forgot to ask if Danneel was also that excited or maybe a bit less.
He holds Jensen’s eyes as he moves his arm, reaching up to touch Jensen’s chin, his lower lip with the knuckles of his hand.
It’s a two-sided movement, but Jared’s sure that he’s the first one actually going for it. He can see Jensen’s eyelids fluttering closed in approval, feels the sigh on his breath before their lips even meet.
Jensen’s lips are smooth, like that of a girl, and sinfully plump, but there’s nothing girly in the way he kisses. It’s gentle and almost lazy at first, unsure, as if he’s only slowly remembering what used to be, how it used to taste and feel. Jared hears himself whimper, loud and embarrassing, when the tip of Jensen’s tongue licks his bottom lip, pushes between his lips, coaxing them open. It’s so easy to give in.
Jared never forgot. Couldn’t. But then again, he always thought he got hit by their ‘fooling’ a little more than Jensen. Or maybe Jensen was just way too addictive.
It’s easy, sometimes, when he looks at his wife; beautiful and fragile, to forget that there used to be something. That us was once a term in between them. The other times, moments when Jensen smiles, or like now, with Jensen’s soft, wet tongue pressing against Jared’s, stroking it and teasing, it’s not. And Jared doesn’t understand how that could ever end. How they could actually walk away from that, from each other without bruises, without falling apart.
They were brought together, forced to work like a two-headed, well-oiled machine, but there was nothing constrained behind their smiles and friendly banter. They really became friends, almost immediately. They just clicked and working together was fun, if maybe a lot more dangerous and tiring than watching the game or kicking each other’s ass in X-box.
But there was a time, somewhere around the break of seasons two and three, before Genevieve came around, before something finally sparked between Jensen and Danneel, when there was more. When falling asleep in each other’s bed and arms was as natural as a half-yawned wish of good morning in the make-up trailer.
It’s gone now; the hunger for touch, for kiss, for becoming one, but something obviously lingers. The longing for contact and proximity, for comfort.
Cupping Jensen’s jaw, Jared runs his thumb over Jensen’s rough cheek, tilting his face slightly for a better angle, deepening the kiss. Losing himself in that moment. It’s unhurried and tender, not triggering or graduating in more, but it still makes Jared’s spine tingle.
Jensen tastes like... Jensen. Still the same, with a sour-sugary, fruity flavor now. Like Jared’s favorite candy.
When Jensen’s palm rests on Jared’s thigh, not moving just resting there, but still unexpected, Jared jerks and bites. Jensen hisses and his hold tightens, fingers digging into the denim of Jared’s pants, and Jared thinks of that memories are bitches. They come unannounced, unwelcome, nudging on his mind and bringing vivid pictures of naked, sweaty, breathless Jensen. Of them.
Eyes closed, Jensen breaks the kiss and pulls back, looking unfairly sexy with his spit-slick, slightly puffed lips, but also taken by surprise, and slightly dazed.
Jared expects him to freak out, because he really does that a lot. But Jensen also rarely does what people expect him to do. When he opens his eyes, he stares straight at Jared. With a gaze that can see deep and entirely too much, even though it doesn’t reveal anything about Jensen. To Jared’s astonishment, Jensen looks fine, relaxed even.
“You... you okay?” Jared asks, stammering over an unexpected downpour of emotions.
“I’m fine. You?”
“Fine. Okay.”
Jensen nods, still smiling, “Good.”
~
“So,” Jared says after a moment of silence. “You alright? Think you can drag your bony ass back on the set?”
“My ass’ not bony,” Jensen mutters, offended, pulling himself back to his feet.
Jared’s smirking as he checks him out. Jensen was right, naturally. His ass isn’t bony; it’s small, firm and sexy. Pretty much perfect. It looks like it was just made to be pinched. Which is exactly what Jared does when Jensen’s not paying attention.
Jensen jumps and squeaks, that is totally the sound he makes, and turns at Jared with an unfriendly scowl. “Jesus, ouch! That actually kinda hurt,” he says reproachfully as he rubs his ass.
“Sorry,” Jared grins innocently. “Couldn’t resist.”
Jensen shakes his head, mumbling something about kids and immature men, while he moves around the trailer, picking up his stuff. He heads for the door and Jared follows, then rams right into Jensen, sending him nearly toppling down the stairs when Jensen suddenly stops.
Regarding his balance, Jensen points back into the trailer, gesturing somewhere towards the couch. “The notebook,” he says. “Grab that for me, can you?”
Jared can, of course; because he is that awesome, and because Jensen’s hands are already full. He picks up the thick notebook and then pauses when his eyes catch a sparkle, a tiny flash of gold. “Hallelujah!”
“’S up?” Jensen questions, poking his head back inside.
Jared picks up the ring between his index finger and thumb, and looks at Jensen through the rounded hole. “Lookie what I found.”
“Oh, thank God.” Jensen breathes out with relief.
“You’re welcome.” Jared utters, narrowing his eyes as he squeezes around Jensen and sets the ringlet on the top of the papers in Jensen’s hands. He’s sure that Jensen’s rolling his eyes behind his back.
“Thank you!” Jensen practically yells, the grains of sand crunching beneath the soles of his shoes as he runs after Jared.
“Yeah.”
Jensen ceases, “Seriously, Jay.”
Deciding to take pity on that guy, Jared smiles and walks the few steps back to Jensen. “Seriously, you’re welcome.” He grabs him in a headlock that Jensen can’t escape no matter what he does, and drags him back on the set.
It’s time for Jensen to keep on playing the cool, composed director he’d been for every of the previous days.