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Hey, look! J2! This only took a month. For winterlive, who has prodded me along into the realm of well-characterized J2. Thanks to balefully and vinylroad for beta.
Carbon, Jared/Jensen, R, 4400 words. Jensen kisses Jared. Things progress accordingly.
Carbon
It's basic. Simple. Uncomplicated. At two thirty in the morning in the back of a taxi, just outside of downtown LA, Jensen kisses him, and it's not some big thing.
Jared probably won't even remember in the morning - not the press of Jensen's mouth, warm and drunk, and not the spread of his fingers up against the glass, outlined against the city lights in the dark.
It's not bad, but it's not a first kiss, not a kiss that changes anything - it falls somewhere between welcome-home kisses at the airport and Christmas morning kisses, delicate and not quite awake. Jared knows the familiar curve of Jensen's mouth, the taste of his chapstick, the kind Jensen's been using and Jared's been borrowing for years. He knows the way Jensen exhales against his cheek from sleeping in the Impala between takes, knows the way he looks down, then up a little too fast - Dean's tell when he's unsure.
The only unfamiliar thing here is the kiss itself, the idea of kissing, and that's not anything Jared can't get over. It might be lines in a script, might be accidental, might just be. It's not inconceivable, the notion of kissing Jensen, but it's not anything Jared needs to bother with thinking over. It's easy. It doesn't mean anything.
"Shit, sorry," Jensen says, eventually, and Jared doesn't have the faintest fucking idea what he's apologizing for, because it's not like he minds.
"Don't worry about it, man," Jared says - he's down six or seven shots on Jen, already thinking about how he's going to get him up the stairs to his hotel room, and the press of Jensen's fingers against the inside of his wrist surprises him a little.
"I didn't -" Jensen says, looking kind of unsure, and Jared just leans his forehead against Jensen's a second, the right thing to do.
"It's not a big deal," Jared says. He's pretty sure Jensen didn't mean to - it's not like he's gay or anything. Ordinarily, Jared would be kind of freaked out if some guy kissed him, but it's Jensen and he's so drunk Jared's pretty sure he can't even stand up straight - it's not worth analyzing. He's not bothering with getting worked up over Jen getting drunk and doing something stupid - sure, that's usually Jared's game, but Jensen's more than overdue for a little fucking up.
If Jensen wants something to feel guilty over, he covers it with almost knocking Jared down the stairs and puking in the bathtub - Jared's definitely not letting him live that one down - but kissing? It just isn't some goddamned big deal.
Which is why Jared's pretty glad Jensen doesn't remember in the morning; four cups of coffee and a handful of Advil and he's back to himself again, mostly.
"Fucking media parties," Jensen says, readjusting his sunglasses while Jared checks their bags, and manages to con an extra cup of espresso out of the flight attendant.
He sleeps most of the way back to Vancouver on Jared's shoulder, and when Jared takes off Jensen's sunglasses somewhere over Oregon and ends up watching him sleep, it's mostly just because he's finished both copies of Car and Driver. The only other option is an abandoned Cosmo, and Jared's pretty goddamned sure that he doesn't need to know what a blended orgasm is, let alone how to have one tonight.
The next week of filming is intense, all stunt work and tension, and by the time Friday rolls around, Jared just wants Chinese food and a couple of beers. Jensen's so tired he actually falls out of the van dropping them off, and he hits the wrong button on the elevator three times, missing Jared's floor entirely.
"Sit down before you fall down," Jared says, and when he gets back from ordering the food, Jensen's asleep on the sofa, curled up half-under what's actually Harley's blanket. Jared switches it out for a real one - he's kind of concerned the dog's going to try to sleep on top of Jensen, and judging from past experience, Jensen isn't exactly likely to wake up even if he's being asphyxiated by seventy pounds of shepherd mix. Jen doesn't come to when Jared waves half a container of "beef peapod" right under his nose, so Jared figures he's down for the count and lets him the hell alone, which leaves him with enough Chinese food for three people and some time to think.
The two Segal movies aren't exactly godawful, but tired as he is, explosions aren't holding his attention, and Jared figures the coolness factor of successfully pulling off a jump out of a moving car is enough to negate any potential guilt over going to bed at nine thirty on a Friday night.
He wakes up a little past one to Jensen crawling in bed with him.
"Mmn?" Jared says, and Jensen yawns, right in his face, and takes the third pillow out from where Jared's got an arm thrown across it.
"Harley took the couch," Jen says, and Jared's too tired to care that he steals half of the blankets.
Jensen's not a morning person. In fact, he's a fuck-off-and-die-if-you-touch-me-before-ten-AM sort of person, which is why Jared wakes up a little weirded out. It's not like they haven't shared a bed before, but Jared's used to being violently kicked away if he gets too close before a reasonable hour (by Jensen's standards, somewhere around noon). Sleepy and pliable don't go anywhere near Jared's definition of Jensen in bed, but when Sadie starts licking toes at seven, Jen's right up against his back, face buried somewhere between Jared's shoulder blades. When Jared gets back under the blankets after letting the dogs out, Jensen doesn't even try to elbow him out of the way, just nudges some of the blankets over toward Jared's side of the bed and moves half out of the warm spot so Jared can get in again.
It's fucking weird.
Jared gets up again at ten, seriously needing a shower and some breakfast, but he doesn't exactly feel like taking it fast, which is why it's a couple minutes before he notices Jensen. He's back on his side of the bed, at least, but he's got a hand fisted in Jared's t-shirt. Jared's trying to decide if he should be seriously concerned about Jensen's weird behavioral changes when Jensen starts to blink awake, sprawled out on his stomach.
"Hey," Jared says, nice and quiet, and in the two seconds it takes Jensen to uncurl his fingers and spread his palm flat against Jared's belly, he thinks about it, because Jared knows - with the irrefutability of sense memory - what Jensen's mouth feels like under his. If Jared moves in two feet and kisses him, he's pretty sure of how it's going to be.
The thing is, though, it's not a hundred percent.
Jared liked science in high school, acid-base titrations and enzyme labs. He knows the value of guess and check, gets how to tease an answer out of something with his hands. Jared's sure of how to figure out something he doesn't quite get, and this, here, with Jensen half asleep against his goddamned shoulder, well - he's got a pretty good handle on what the hypothesis and prediction ought to be.
It's not like it'd be hard. Jared's known how to kiss for real since he was seventeen, in the back of Lily Walker's pickup. He's got that down, piece of cake easy, and Jared knows Jensen almost as well as he knows what a woman's mouth feels like under his, so the combination - kissing and Jensen - wouldn't be anything complicated. It'd be obvious, and Jared likes obvious things.
He's pretty sure he doesn't actually want to kiss Jensen, though. Jensen's his costar, his best friend, just - Jensen, mostly, and Jared knows better than to mess with it. Besides, it's just a moment, one of those stupid things - Jensen yawns and he's Jen again, not anybody Jared's thinking about kissing.
"God," Jensen says, blearily, "I need -" and rolls out of bed.
Just because Jared knows him, he's had the timer set since seven. The coffee's mostly done by the time Jensen actually makes it to the kitchen, the stupid organic kind he likes. Jensen stays over enough that Jared's given up on buying Maxwell House or whatever the hell else is on sale and hiding it, and anyway, it's almost worth it; he likes watching Jensen wrap his hands around the UT Austin mug and lean back against the counter, waking up nice and slow.
Jensen puts away three cups of coffee and then goes back to sleep. He's right in the middle of the bed when Jared goes to find a pair of jeans after his shower, buried underneath all the blankets, and Jared can't come up with a single good reason not to get in with him, so he finds a sweatshirt and goes back to bed too. He's completely fucking exhausted.
It's almost four before he gets out of bed, confronted with two damp, overexcited dogs and a significantly more awake Jensen. Despite the fact that he's wearing Jared's raincoat, he's soaked too, which Jared figures out when Jensen starts dripping all over him.
"Come on," Jen says, laughing, "I let you sleep all day."
Jared's okay with getting up, considering it means relocating to the couch while Jensen showers, then rewatching the Segal movie Jensen slept through last night. They order Thai when action movies get boring. Jensen steals half of his spring rolls, but Jared beats him on every single level of Guitar Hero, which more than makes up for the loss.
Jensen goes home on Sunday morning, but he's back a couple hours later. Jared fucks around with some paperwork while Jen plays with the dogs, and it's mostly not much of anything. They're both still tired.
The thing is - the problem is, really, that Jared can't help looking at Jensen. It's not anything important, mostly accidental, but sometimes it's right there - when Jensen presses against him, going to let the dogs out, when Jared tackles him back onto the couch after Jensen's sixth victory in a row at Madden, when Jen does the fucking dishes.
And when Jared ends up looking the wrong way, he almost wants to kiss him again, which is fucking ridiculous.
He's got plenty of reasons - it's been a couple months since he got laid, he's been working too hard, he might be coming down with something - but mostly, Jared figures the best possible option, the easiest possible option, is to get a little space. He won't have to deal with accidentally looking at Jensen the wrong way if he can't see Jensen at all, Jared figures, and it'll be fine by Monday, completely out of his system.
"Hey," Jared says, leaning against the kitchen counter, "I think I'm gonna turn in early."
Jensen's making a sandwich, and he snorts. "You're working toward a coma, Jay," he says. "I'll let the dogs out."
"Uh," Jared says, his hand up against the back of his neck, "I meant - I figured you might want to head back to your place."
The sudden, startled confusion on Jensen's face makes him feel a little like he's a godawful person, but it's too late to do much about it.
"Sure," Jensen says, putting the lid back on the peanut butter, leaning to put it into the fridge. "I could use a change of clothes." He hits Jared on the shoulder, but it's stiff, kind of awkward, and Jared almost winces.
Jensen notices.
"See you tomorrow," he says, finally, and it almost works - Jared just doesn't think about it.
It's fine in the morning, except for the part where Jensen's on edge around him, so high-strung it takes four hours to get through a scene that should've taken half an hour, tops. Jen's closed off, tense almost, and Jared figures it's got something to do with the night before.
He finds Jensen at lunch, stretched out across one of the couches in the trailer. Jared's pretty sure he's sleeping, so it's easy enough to slide in behind him and shut his eyes, up against the back of the sofa. Jensen startles awake though, and he doesn't quite relax back down, not even when Jared gives up on fitting and sprawls out over him, an arm up against his waist.
"Hey," Jared says, rubbing his thumb up against Jen's ribcage, through his shirt, working toward reassuring.
"You're running hot and cold," Jensen says, finally, still stiff.
"I just - got tired, is all," Jared says, into his shoulder, hoping he'll get it, and he feels Jensen's chest move beneath his palm when he lets out a breath, slow.
"You're an asshole, Padalecki," Jensen says, laughing, and Jared's pretty sure it counts as perfect justification for shoving him off the couch.
It's all the conversation they need to have, because Jensen doesn't hold grudges and Jared's fine; he doesn't want to slip his hands into Jensen's pockets in the cereal aisle and pull him in, half way between Cheerios and granola, doesn't think about climbing in the shower with him after eight hours of filming, doesn't want. If Jared's thinking about anybody, it's maybe the new PA who brings him his coffee, what she'd look like spread out across his bed, how he could make her flush.
Jensen's just Jensen, good for touch football in the back lot, ducking around the scene markers, somebody to beat at video games and eat pizza with. It's not like Jared's thinking about what happened in LA, or why - there are only a few thousand reasons for somebody to kiss another person in the back of a taxi, and Jared's not worrying about any of them, because Jensen was drunk.
He'd still kind of like to know, though - just maybe, Jensen's got a thing, a little bit of one, and Jared figures he ought to hear about it. If it's about him, well, he's got the right to know if Jensen wants to kiss him, doesn't he? It's as simple as that.
Jensen comes over for dinner - hamburgers, about the only thing Jared's really good at - and they're halfway through dessert when Jared decides to just say it.
"Why'd you kiss me in Los Angeles?" he says, when Jensen's hunting in the freezer, looking for a bag of coffee.
There's a sudden cascade of frozen food; two bags of peas, some chicken, and a tray of ice cubes end up on the floor. Jared watches a pint of Haagen Dazs roll between his feet. He can't see Jensen's face, but the hand he's got against the freezer door is tight, and Jared figures the fact that he's dropping things might speak for itself.
"Why did I what?" Jensen says, and Jared stands up.
"You were kind of drunk," Jared says, reaching around Jen to put the ice cream back in the door, and when Jensen turns around, Jared realizes - a little too late - that he's got him pinned, tight between the freezer door and the curve of Jared's arm.
Jared knows he ought to ease off, give him a little breathing room, but he's never been all that great at backing down, and hell, he's curious. Jensen's flushed, startled and guilty.
"I don't remember, Jared," Jensen says, kind of cautious, and Jared realizes that forcing Jensen to tell would make him the biggest asshole on the planet, and that's not an award Jared's ever worked toward, so he lets go to pick up the peas.
"Sure," he says, giving Jensen a smile - nothing worth worrying over. "You want to start the DVD?"
Jared turns it over all the way through the movie, with Jensen next to him on the other side of the couch. Jensen's further away than he ought to be, tucked up in the corner with Sadie asleep between them, and Jared's pretty sure he's going to have to do something.
The thing is, Jared knows Jensen like the back of his hand - maybe better, all things considered - and for all that the press is convinced he's closed off, Jared figures it's not hard to read an open book if you know the language. He knows how Jensen takes his coffee, what kind of laundry detergent he uses, and all the bad sex he's ever had. He cheats at poker and there isn't a goddamned thing Jensen wouldn't do for his family. Jared could be diagramming sentences.
Mostly, though, he knows when Jensen's not himself, and right now, Jared would put money on the fact that he's freaking out. He pushes Sadie off halfway through one of the chase scenes, moving over, and Jensen goes tense so fast that Jared can't miss it, which feels weird enough that Jared decides he's done fucking around with it.
"Do you -" he starts, swallowing, because somehow, it's stupid, harder than it should be. "Did you mean to?"
Jensen stops, fumbling for the remote to pause the movie, and looks at him for a minute. Jared watches him inhale.
"No," he says. "I was just drunk, it wasn't -" Jared realizes he's not the only one that can't finish a goddamned sentence.
"It wasn't anything important," Jensen finishes, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I didn't mean anything by it, Jay."
Jared knows that particular gesture - it's familiar as anything else, and it goes along with exactly one thing. It's recognizable from Thanksgiving interrogations about Jensen's love life and times when Jensen doesn't like a reporter; Jensen's not a bad liar, exactly, but Jared's always been able to figure it out, and this, here - well. It's a goddamn giveaway. He's ending this, one way or the other, because even if he doesn't know what Jensen's lying about, there's something, and Jared needs to know what it is.
"Sure," Jared agrees, easy, "wasn't anything," and leans in to kiss him.
It's warmer than he expects, better than he expects, and when Jensen inhales against his mouth, Jared deepens the kiss on instinct, licking in close. He knows how kissing Jensen ought to be, but it's not even close to what he remembers, and by the time Jensen starts to pull him down, Jared's forgotten pretty much everything but the way Jensen's mouth is opening under his.
Which is why he's a little startled when Jensen pushes him back.
"No," Jensen manages, but he's breathing hard, like he doesn't mean it, so Jared just leans in again.
Jensen's less gentle the second time he shoves Jared away.
"You can't just fuck with me on this one, Jared," he says, quiet, and Jared tightens a hand in Jensen's shirt, because he's sure as hell not giving in that easily.
Jensen meant to kiss him, and Jared meant to kiss back, and Jared's making sure it happens again. It's as simple as that.
"I'm not fucking with you," Jared says, low. "I want -"
There's a pretty big difference between kissing Jensen to find something out and kissing Jensen because he wants to, but Jared's never much held with lying to himself. He knows what this kiss will mean, and he wants it anyway.
"I want you," Jared finishes, and waits for Jensen's slow, shaky nod before he kisses him again, deliberate.
It's hesitant, a little cautious, but when Jensen slides his hands to Jared's face, it feels right, easy, like it was meant to happen. Jared eases into the kiss, slow and heated, and by the time he licks along Jensen's lower lip, then deeper, they're in close.
Jared's acutely aware of every place they're touching, Jensen's palm up against his jaw, and it's nothing familiar but it's good. He doesn't want to stop to think about it - Jared knows his own goddamned limits, thank you very much - so he lets Jensen pull him down onto the sofa and comes out on top.
"We -" Jensen starts, and Jared just presses him back and gets his hands someplace warm, right up against Jensen's back, spread out wide.
"Jesus, shut up," he says, and feels Jensen's laugh next to his skin.
It's been a long time since Jared just made out with somebody, no pretense that it's going to go any further, but it feels right to do this here, and Jared isn't too worried. Jensen's shifting underneath him, skin too hot through his cotton t-shirt, and when he nudges his hips up, Jared realizes he's not the only one getting hard. The kisses they're trading are slick and deep, plenty of tongue, and if it were a girl, Jared would call them for what they are, but as is, he's just starting to flush all over.
He only notices that he's nudging his hips up against Jensen's thigh when Jensen slides a hand between them, fingers right up against the button on his jeans, so goddamn close it makes Jared stop breathing for a minute.
"Can I -" Jensen says, and Jared just kisses him again. He figures he'll get the idea.
Jensen doesn't even bother getting Jared's jeans off. He slides a hand down in and wraps his fingers around Jared's cock, just holding him, and jesus fucking christ. Jen's hands are bigger than he's used to, rougher than he's used to, but it's nothing he can't handle, and it feels good enough that Jared stops worrying about it and just lets it happen. He figures the idea out about the time that Jensen starts stroking; he leans in to lick across Jensen's collarbone and presses the heel of his hand up against Jensen's erection, rubbing.
"Fuck," Jensen says, and Jared feels his hips jerk forward. Jen stops moving for a second, just breathing, and Jared takes advantage of the opportunity to give himself a little room. He can't get Jensen's jeans off without breaking contact between them, but it's not so hard to push them down.
It's weird, different than everything he's used to, but Jensen's flushed all the way down beneath his collar, breathing hard, and Jared knows it's because of him, which he figures is a good enough reason to start touching Jensen. It's just his fingertips, first, right up and down the shaft, but Jensen starts breathing too fast. Jared gets it. He doesn't want to tease, not like that. It wouldn't be fair.
Jen's face is up against his shoulder when Jared starts stroking, steady, and Jared feels him jump, so he figures he's probably not doing it all wrong. He can tell Jensen's turned on, and it should be strange to catalog but it isn't; his skin's hot underneath Jared's hands, and he spreads his knees and pulls Jared down until their stomachs are pressed right up against each other. Jensen licks his lower lip, meeting Jared's eyes, and right there, with that eye contact, Jared can't keep control anymore, because he can't hide much of anything.
Jensen slides his other hand down, fingers up against Jared's spine, and he wouldn't have thought about it, but it's just right. He can feel every catch of Jensen's fingers, can feel the way things are starting to slick up between them, and he wants to return the favor. Wants to make Jensen lose control again.
"Come on," Jensen manages, against his mouth, and squeezes, and Jared stops thinking about all of it and just touches back - rubbing his thumb over the head pulls a low noise out of Jensen, and tightening his grip makes his hips buck. Jared's not used to not being sure, but it's not hard to figure out what Jensen likes. His flush deepens when Jared twists his wrist, slow, and when he starts to jerk him off for real, Jensen just kisses him, tongue right up against Jared's, hot and wet and jesus.
Jen pushes their hips together, their stomachs in close, and Jared feels it all over. That alone isn't enough to make him come, but the way Jensen rubs his thumb along the underside of his erection is, and it hardly takes anything at all. Fuck.
He comes back slowly, easy, and Jensen's nudging his nose up against Jared's neck, his hips pressing forward. "Yeah, okay," Jared murmurs, and changes his grip, stroking harder. It only takes a minute before Jensen catches his breath and comes all over Jared's stomach, shivering, and Jared doesn't know what to think of any of it, but that right there is all right with him.
Jared would be happy enough to stay where he's at all night, but Jen laughs and shoves him off after a couple minutes, right about the time Jared starts thinking Jensen's shoulder would make an excellent pillow.
"You want to pass out, you don't do it on top of me," Jensen says, but he sounds affectionate rather than pissed off, so Jared just settles in behind him. It's his couch, and he's tired, and Jensen's right there. It makes sense.
Jared knows a hell of a lot better than to crash, all things considered, but none of it's familiar, and he doesn't exactly know the right thing to say. Hell, he can't think of anything to say.
"Hey," Jensen says, reaching to run a hand through Jared's hair, and Jared thinks about pulling back, but he leans into it, letting his eyes close.
"Hey," he says, soft, and Jen shifts his hand down, squeezes the back of Jared's neck.
"I meant to kiss you," Jensen says, finally.
"Yeah," Jared says, "I know," and it should freak him out but it doesn't. It isn't anything complicated: Jensen likes him, and he likes Jensen, and it's as easy as that.
"So I -" Jen starts, not quite easy, and Jared knows exactly what to say.
"I meant to kiss back," he says, easy, with a smile, and leans forward to do it again.
Carbon, Jared/Jensen, R, 4400 words. Jensen kisses Jared. Things progress accordingly.
Carbon
It's basic. Simple. Uncomplicated. At two thirty in the morning in the back of a taxi, just outside of downtown LA, Jensen kisses him, and it's not some big thing.
Jared probably won't even remember in the morning - not the press of Jensen's mouth, warm and drunk, and not the spread of his fingers up against the glass, outlined against the city lights in the dark.
It's not bad, but it's not a first kiss, not a kiss that changes anything - it falls somewhere between welcome-home kisses at the airport and Christmas morning kisses, delicate and not quite awake. Jared knows the familiar curve of Jensen's mouth, the taste of his chapstick, the kind Jensen's been using and Jared's been borrowing for years. He knows the way Jensen exhales against his cheek from sleeping in the Impala between takes, knows the way he looks down, then up a little too fast - Dean's tell when he's unsure.
The only unfamiliar thing here is the kiss itself, the idea of kissing, and that's not anything Jared can't get over. It might be lines in a script, might be accidental, might just be. It's not inconceivable, the notion of kissing Jensen, but it's not anything Jared needs to bother with thinking over. It's easy. It doesn't mean anything.
"Shit, sorry," Jensen says, eventually, and Jared doesn't have the faintest fucking idea what he's apologizing for, because it's not like he minds.
"Don't worry about it, man," Jared says - he's down six or seven shots on Jen, already thinking about how he's going to get him up the stairs to his hotel room, and the press of Jensen's fingers against the inside of his wrist surprises him a little.
"I didn't -" Jensen says, looking kind of unsure, and Jared just leans his forehead against Jensen's a second, the right thing to do.
"It's not a big deal," Jared says. He's pretty sure Jensen didn't mean to - it's not like he's gay or anything. Ordinarily, Jared would be kind of freaked out if some guy kissed him, but it's Jensen and he's so drunk Jared's pretty sure he can't even stand up straight - it's not worth analyzing. He's not bothering with getting worked up over Jen getting drunk and doing something stupid - sure, that's usually Jared's game, but Jensen's more than overdue for a little fucking up.
If Jensen wants something to feel guilty over, he covers it with almost knocking Jared down the stairs and puking in the bathtub - Jared's definitely not letting him live that one down - but kissing? It just isn't some goddamned big deal.
Which is why Jared's pretty glad Jensen doesn't remember in the morning; four cups of coffee and a handful of Advil and he's back to himself again, mostly.
"Fucking media parties," Jensen says, readjusting his sunglasses while Jared checks their bags, and manages to con an extra cup of espresso out of the flight attendant.
He sleeps most of the way back to Vancouver on Jared's shoulder, and when Jared takes off Jensen's sunglasses somewhere over Oregon and ends up watching him sleep, it's mostly just because he's finished both copies of Car and Driver. The only other option is an abandoned Cosmo, and Jared's pretty goddamned sure that he doesn't need to know what a blended orgasm is, let alone how to have one tonight.
The next week of filming is intense, all stunt work and tension, and by the time Friday rolls around, Jared just wants Chinese food and a couple of beers. Jensen's so tired he actually falls out of the van dropping them off, and he hits the wrong button on the elevator three times, missing Jared's floor entirely.
"Sit down before you fall down," Jared says, and when he gets back from ordering the food, Jensen's asleep on the sofa, curled up half-under what's actually Harley's blanket. Jared switches it out for a real one - he's kind of concerned the dog's going to try to sleep on top of Jensen, and judging from past experience, Jensen isn't exactly likely to wake up even if he's being asphyxiated by seventy pounds of shepherd mix. Jen doesn't come to when Jared waves half a container of "beef peapod" right under his nose, so Jared figures he's down for the count and lets him the hell alone, which leaves him with enough Chinese food for three people and some time to think.
The two Segal movies aren't exactly godawful, but tired as he is, explosions aren't holding his attention, and Jared figures the coolness factor of successfully pulling off a jump out of a moving car is enough to negate any potential guilt over going to bed at nine thirty on a Friday night.
He wakes up a little past one to Jensen crawling in bed with him.
"Mmn?" Jared says, and Jensen yawns, right in his face, and takes the third pillow out from where Jared's got an arm thrown across it.
"Harley took the couch," Jen says, and Jared's too tired to care that he steals half of the blankets.
Jensen's not a morning person. In fact, he's a fuck-off-and-die-if-you-touch-me-before-ten-AM sort of person, which is why Jared wakes up a little weirded out. It's not like they haven't shared a bed before, but Jared's used to being violently kicked away if he gets too close before a reasonable hour (by Jensen's standards, somewhere around noon). Sleepy and pliable don't go anywhere near Jared's definition of Jensen in bed, but when Sadie starts licking toes at seven, Jen's right up against his back, face buried somewhere between Jared's shoulder blades. When Jared gets back under the blankets after letting the dogs out, Jensen doesn't even try to elbow him out of the way, just nudges some of the blankets over toward Jared's side of the bed and moves half out of the warm spot so Jared can get in again.
It's fucking weird.
Jared gets up again at ten, seriously needing a shower and some breakfast, but he doesn't exactly feel like taking it fast, which is why it's a couple minutes before he notices Jensen. He's back on his side of the bed, at least, but he's got a hand fisted in Jared's t-shirt. Jared's trying to decide if he should be seriously concerned about Jensen's weird behavioral changes when Jensen starts to blink awake, sprawled out on his stomach.
"Hey," Jared says, nice and quiet, and in the two seconds it takes Jensen to uncurl his fingers and spread his palm flat against Jared's belly, he thinks about it, because Jared knows - with the irrefutability of sense memory - what Jensen's mouth feels like under his. If Jared moves in two feet and kisses him, he's pretty sure of how it's going to be.
The thing is, though, it's not a hundred percent.
Jared liked science in high school, acid-base titrations and enzyme labs. He knows the value of guess and check, gets how to tease an answer out of something with his hands. Jared's sure of how to figure out something he doesn't quite get, and this, here, with Jensen half asleep against his goddamned shoulder, well - he's got a pretty good handle on what the hypothesis and prediction ought to be.
It's not like it'd be hard. Jared's known how to kiss for real since he was seventeen, in the back of Lily Walker's pickup. He's got that down, piece of cake easy, and Jared knows Jensen almost as well as he knows what a woman's mouth feels like under his, so the combination - kissing and Jensen - wouldn't be anything complicated. It'd be obvious, and Jared likes obvious things.
He's pretty sure he doesn't actually want to kiss Jensen, though. Jensen's his costar, his best friend, just - Jensen, mostly, and Jared knows better than to mess with it. Besides, it's just a moment, one of those stupid things - Jensen yawns and he's Jen again, not anybody Jared's thinking about kissing.
"God," Jensen says, blearily, "I need -" and rolls out of bed.
Just because Jared knows him, he's had the timer set since seven. The coffee's mostly done by the time Jensen actually makes it to the kitchen, the stupid organic kind he likes. Jensen stays over enough that Jared's given up on buying Maxwell House or whatever the hell else is on sale and hiding it, and anyway, it's almost worth it; he likes watching Jensen wrap his hands around the UT Austin mug and lean back against the counter, waking up nice and slow.
Jensen puts away three cups of coffee and then goes back to sleep. He's right in the middle of the bed when Jared goes to find a pair of jeans after his shower, buried underneath all the blankets, and Jared can't come up with a single good reason not to get in with him, so he finds a sweatshirt and goes back to bed too. He's completely fucking exhausted.
It's almost four before he gets out of bed, confronted with two damp, overexcited dogs and a significantly more awake Jensen. Despite the fact that he's wearing Jared's raincoat, he's soaked too, which Jared figures out when Jensen starts dripping all over him.
"Come on," Jen says, laughing, "I let you sleep all day."
Jared's okay with getting up, considering it means relocating to the couch while Jensen showers, then rewatching the Segal movie Jensen slept through last night. They order Thai when action movies get boring. Jensen steals half of his spring rolls, but Jared beats him on every single level of Guitar Hero, which more than makes up for the loss.
Jensen goes home on Sunday morning, but he's back a couple hours later. Jared fucks around with some paperwork while Jen plays with the dogs, and it's mostly not much of anything. They're both still tired.
The thing is - the problem is, really, that Jared can't help looking at Jensen. It's not anything important, mostly accidental, but sometimes it's right there - when Jensen presses against him, going to let the dogs out, when Jared tackles him back onto the couch after Jensen's sixth victory in a row at Madden, when Jen does the fucking dishes.
And when Jared ends up looking the wrong way, he almost wants to kiss him again, which is fucking ridiculous.
He's got plenty of reasons - it's been a couple months since he got laid, he's been working too hard, he might be coming down with something - but mostly, Jared figures the best possible option, the easiest possible option, is to get a little space. He won't have to deal with accidentally looking at Jensen the wrong way if he can't see Jensen at all, Jared figures, and it'll be fine by Monday, completely out of his system.
"Hey," Jared says, leaning against the kitchen counter, "I think I'm gonna turn in early."
Jensen's making a sandwich, and he snorts. "You're working toward a coma, Jay," he says. "I'll let the dogs out."
"Uh," Jared says, his hand up against the back of his neck, "I meant - I figured you might want to head back to your place."
The sudden, startled confusion on Jensen's face makes him feel a little like he's a godawful person, but it's too late to do much about it.
"Sure," Jensen says, putting the lid back on the peanut butter, leaning to put it into the fridge. "I could use a change of clothes." He hits Jared on the shoulder, but it's stiff, kind of awkward, and Jared almost winces.
Jensen notices.
"See you tomorrow," he says, finally, and it almost works - Jared just doesn't think about it.
It's fine in the morning, except for the part where Jensen's on edge around him, so high-strung it takes four hours to get through a scene that should've taken half an hour, tops. Jen's closed off, tense almost, and Jared figures it's got something to do with the night before.
He finds Jensen at lunch, stretched out across one of the couches in the trailer. Jared's pretty sure he's sleeping, so it's easy enough to slide in behind him and shut his eyes, up against the back of the sofa. Jensen startles awake though, and he doesn't quite relax back down, not even when Jared gives up on fitting and sprawls out over him, an arm up against his waist.
"Hey," Jared says, rubbing his thumb up against Jen's ribcage, through his shirt, working toward reassuring.
"You're running hot and cold," Jensen says, finally, still stiff.
"I just - got tired, is all," Jared says, into his shoulder, hoping he'll get it, and he feels Jensen's chest move beneath his palm when he lets out a breath, slow.
"You're an asshole, Padalecki," Jensen says, laughing, and Jared's pretty sure it counts as perfect justification for shoving him off the couch.
It's all the conversation they need to have, because Jensen doesn't hold grudges and Jared's fine; he doesn't want to slip his hands into Jensen's pockets in the cereal aisle and pull him in, half way between Cheerios and granola, doesn't think about climbing in the shower with him after eight hours of filming, doesn't want. If Jared's thinking about anybody, it's maybe the new PA who brings him his coffee, what she'd look like spread out across his bed, how he could make her flush.
Jensen's just Jensen, good for touch football in the back lot, ducking around the scene markers, somebody to beat at video games and eat pizza with. It's not like Jared's thinking about what happened in LA, or why - there are only a few thousand reasons for somebody to kiss another person in the back of a taxi, and Jared's not worrying about any of them, because Jensen was drunk.
He'd still kind of like to know, though - just maybe, Jensen's got a thing, a little bit of one, and Jared figures he ought to hear about it. If it's about him, well, he's got the right to know if Jensen wants to kiss him, doesn't he? It's as simple as that.
Jensen comes over for dinner - hamburgers, about the only thing Jared's really good at - and they're halfway through dessert when Jared decides to just say it.
"Why'd you kiss me in Los Angeles?" he says, when Jensen's hunting in the freezer, looking for a bag of coffee.
There's a sudden cascade of frozen food; two bags of peas, some chicken, and a tray of ice cubes end up on the floor. Jared watches a pint of Haagen Dazs roll between his feet. He can't see Jensen's face, but the hand he's got against the freezer door is tight, and Jared figures the fact that he's dropping things might speak for itself.
"Why did I what?" Jensen says, and Jared stands up.
"You were kind of drunk," Jared says, reaching around Jen to put the ice cream back in the door, and when Jensen turns around, Jared realizes - a little too late - that he's got him pinned, tight between the freezer door and the curve of Jared's arm.
Jared knows he ought to ease off, give him a little breathing room, but he's never been all that great at backing down, and hell, he's curious. Jensen's flushed, startled and guilty.
"I don't remember, Jared," Jensen says, kind of cautious, and Jared realizes that forcing Jensen to tell would make him the biggest asshole on the planet, and that's not an award Jared's ever worked toward, so he lets go to pick up the peas.
"Sure," he says, giving Jensen a smile - nothing worth worrying over. "You want to start the DVD?"
Jared turns it over all the way through the movie, with Jensen next to him on the other side of the couch. Jensen's further away than he ought to be, tucked up in the corner with Sadie asleep between them, and Jared's pretty sure he's going to have to do something.
The thing is, Jared knows Jensen like the back of his hand - maybe better, all things considered - and for all that the press is convinced he's closed off, Jared figures it's not hard to read an open book if you know the language. He knows how Jensen takes his coffee, what kind of laundry detergent he uses, and all the bad sex he's ever had. He cheats at poker and there isn't a goddamned thing Jensen wouldn't do for his family. Jared could be diagramming sentences.
Mostly, though, he knows when Jensen's not himself, and right now, Jared would put money on the fact that he's freaking out. He pushes Sadie off halfway through one of the chase scenes, moving over, and Jensen goes tense so fast that Jared can't miss it, which feels weird enough that Jared decides he's done fucking around with it.
"Do you -" he starts, swallowing, because somehow, it's stupid, harder than it should be. "Did you mean to?"
Jensen stops, fumbling for the remote to pause the movie, and looks at him for a minute. Jared watches him inhale.
"No," he says. "I was just drunk, it wasn't -" Jared realizes he's not the only one that can't finish a goddamned sentence.
"It wasn't anything important," Jensen finishes, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I didn't mean anything by it, Jay."
Jared knows that particular gesture - it's familiar as anything else, and it goes along with exactly one thing. It's recognizable from Thanksgiving interrogations about Jensen's love life and times when Jensen doesn't like a reporter; Jensen's not a bad liar, exactly, but Jared's always been able to figure it out, and this, here - well. It's a goddamn giveaway. He's ending this, one way or the other, because even if he doesn't know what Jensen's lying about, there's something, and Jared needs to know what it is.
"Sure," Jared agrees, easy, "wasn't anything," and leans in to kiss him.
It's warmer than he expects, better than he expects, and when Jensen inhales against his mouth, Jared deepens the kiss on instinct, licking in close. He knows how kissing Jensen ought to be, but it's not even close to what he remembers, and by the time Jensen starts to pull him down, Jared's forgotten pretty much everything but the way Jensen's mouth is opening under his.
Which is why he's a little startled when Jensen pushes him back.
"No," Jensen manages, but he's breathing hard, like he doesn't mean it, so Jared just leans in again.
Jensen's less gentle the second time he shoves Jared away.
"You can't just fuck with me on this one, Jared," he says, quiet, and Jared tightens a hand in Jensen's shirt, because he's sure as hell not giving in that easily.
Jensen meant to kiss him, and Jared meant to kiss back, and Jared's making sure it happens again. It's as simple as that.
"I'm not fucking with you," Jared says, low. "I want -"
There's a pretty big difference between kissing Jensen to find something out and kissing Jensen because he wants to, but Jared's never much held with lying to himself. He knows what this kiss will mean, and he wants it anyway.
"I want you," Jared finishes, and waits for Jensen's slow, shaky nod before he kisses him again, deliberate.
It's hesitant, a little cautious, but when Jensen slides his hands to Jared's face, it feels right, easy, like it was meant to happen. Jared eases into the kiss, slow and heated, and by the time he licks along Jensen's lower lip, then deeper, they're in close.
Jared's acutely aware of every place they're touching, Jensen's palm up against his jaw, and it's nothing familiar but it's good. He doesn't want to stop to think about it - Jared knows his own goddamned limits, thank you very much - so he lets Jensen pull him down onto the sofa and comes out on top.
"We -" Jensen starts, and Jared just presses him back and gets his hands someplace warm, right up against Jensen's back, spread out wide.
"Jesus, shut up," he says, and feels Jensen's laugh next to his skin.
It's been a long time since Jared just made out with somebody, no pretense that it's going to go any further, but it feels right to do this here, and Jared isn't too worried. Jensen's shifting underneath him, skin too hot through his cotton t-shirt, and when he nudges his hips up, Jared realizes he's not the only one getting hard. The kisses they're trading are slick and deep, plenty of tongue, and if it were a girl, Jared would call them for what they are, but as is, he's just starting to flush all over.
He only notices that he's nudging his hips up against Jensen's thigh when Jensen slides a hand between them, fingers right up against the button on his jeans, so goddamn close it makes Jared stop breathing for a minute.
"Can I -" Jensen says, and Jared just kisses him again. He figures he'll get the idea.
Jensen doesn't even bother getting Jared's jeans off. He slides a hand down in and wraps his fingers around Jared's cock, just holding him, and jesus fucking christ. Jen's hands are bigger than he's used to, rougher than he's used to, but it's nothing he can't handle, and it feels good enough that Jared stops worrying about it and just lets it happen. He figures the idea out about the time that Jensen starts stroking; he leans in to lick across Jensen's collarbone and presses the heel of his hand up against Jensen's erection, rubbing.
"Fuck," Jensen says, and Jared feels his hips jerk forward. Jen stops moving for a second, just breathing, and Jared takes advantage of the opportunity to give himself a little room. He can't get Jensen's jeans off without breaking contact between them, but it's not so hard to push them down.
It's weird, different than everything he's used to, but Jensen's flushed all the way down beneath his collar, breathing hard, and Jared knows it's because of him, which he figures is a good enough reason to start touching Jensen. It's just his fingertips, first, right up and down the shaft, but Jensen starts breathing too fast. Jared gets it. He doesn't want to tease, not like that. It wouldn't be fair.
Jen's face is up against his shoulder when Jared starts stroking, steady, and Jared feels him jump, so he figures he's probably not doing it all wrong. He can tell Jensen's turned on, and it should be strange to catalog but it isn't; his skin's hot underneath Jared's hands, and he spreads his knees and pulls Jared down until their stomachs are pressed right up against each other. Jensen licks his lower lip, meeting Jared's eyes, and right there, with that eye contact, Jared can't keep control anymore, because he can't hide much of anything.
Jensen slides his other hand down, fingers up against Jared's spine, and he wouldn't have thought about it, but it's just right. He can feel every catch of Jensen's fingers, can feel the way things are starting to slick up between them, and he wants to return the favor. Wants to make Jensen lose control again.
"Come on," Jensen manages, against his mouth, and squeezes, and Jared stops thinking about all of it and just touches back - rubbing his thumb over the head pulls a low noise out of Jensen, and tightening his grip makes his hips buck. Jared's not used to not being sure, but it's not hard to figure out what Jensen likes. His flush deepens when Jared twists his wrist, slow, and when he starts to jerk him off for real, Jensen just kisses him, tongue right up against Jared's, hot and wet and jesus.
Jen pushes their hips together, their stomachs in close, and Jared feels it all over. That alone isn't enough to make him come, but the way Jensen rubs his thumb along the underside of his erection is, and it hardly takes anything at all. Fuck.
He comes back slowly, easy, and Jensen's nudging his nose up against Jared's neck, his hips pressing forward. "Yeah, okay," Jared murmurs, and changes his grip, stroking harder. It only takes a minute before Jensen catches his breath and comes all over Jared's stomach, shivering, and Jared doesn't know what to think of any of it, but that right there is all right with him.
Jared would be happy enough to stay where he's at all night, but Jen laughs and shoves him off after a couple minutes, right about the time Jared starts thinking Jensen's shoulder would make an excellent pillow.
"You want to pass out, you don't do it on top of me," Jensen says, but he sounds affectionate rather than pissed off, so Jared just settles in behind him. It's his couch, and he's tired, and Jensen's right there. It makes sense.
Jared knows a hell of a lot better than to crash, all things considered, but none of it's familiar, and he doesn't exactly know the right thing to say. Hell, he can't think of anything to say.
"Hey," Jensen says, reaching to run a hand through Jared's hair, and Jared thinks about pulling back, but he leans into it, letting his eyes close.
"Hey," he says, soft, and Jen shifts his hand down, squeezes the back of Jared's neck.
"I meant to kiss you," Jensen says, finally.
"Yeah," Jared says, "I know," and it should freak him out but it doesn't. It isn't anything complicated: Jensen likes him, and he likes Jensen, and it's as easy as that.
"So I -" Jen starts, not quite easy, and Jared knows exactly what to say.
"I meant to kiss back," he says, easy, with a smile, and leans forward to do it again.