The Play Nice Proviso: Five
You’ve such amazing grace
Somewhere between rescuing him from the bar brawl and falling asleep at his bedside in the hospital, Jensen had totally and irrevocably endeared himself to Jared. In fact, nothing his enigmatic, broody co-star did bothered him anymore.
Especially after certain ludicrous thoughts of eyelash-kissing, and gorgeous green eyes were relegated to the back of his mind where he wouldn’t pay them any attention. Well, not much anyway.
So, if Jensen growled at him, Jared grinned back.
If Jensen insulted him, Jared bestowed him with an indulgent smirk.
If Jensen yelled at him, Jared meekly apologized. And then flashed him a soft smile.
It got to the point where Jensen actually refused to acknowledge his existence, which was really all right with Jared, because then he could study his grumpy co-star from afar and try to figure out what made him tick. But at the same time, Jensen ignoring him was also really not all right with Jared; in fact, it sucked. Jared was usually a simple and straightforward person; whatever emotion he felt was what was expressed on the surface. He didn’t know how not to be himself. Jensen - God Jensen - just complicated everything. It pissed him off that he still hadn’t won him over, in spite of the fact that he now pretty much idolized him. It pissed him off that the other man continued to dislike him in spite of the fact that they had come together on making their house into a home. But most of all, it pissed him off that he couldn’t do the one thing he really, really wanted to do to Jensen.
He really just wanted to hug him… so he did.
On camera, at the CW Launch party. Just as Jensen was handed the mike to pimp an upcoming episode of Supernatural. Jared figured it was perfect timing on his part; Jensen was suitably distracted and Jared’s arm was still in a cast, so perhaps Jensen wouldn’t kill him right then and there. Too many witnesses, he figured.
He glommed onto Jensen from behind, for all of maybe three seconds, but he was completely unprepared for the - figurative - punch to the gut he felt as his arms wound around Jensen’s body. The fierce rush of fondness that followed when Jensen chuckled surprised him enough to palm Jensen’s head, the action both affectionate and apologetic.
“I hate him,” Jensen huffed with a fake-sounding laugh as he smiled into the camera, not even sparing a glance in Jared’s direction.
And yeah… the hurt Jared felt at those thoughtless words - that shocked him the most.
Filming heading into the Christmas hiatus went well. They were looser, both of them bringing their A-games to the set. They were even having actual moments of hilarity while filming, which gave him hope for future gag reels.
His hero-worship too, just kept kicking up, notch by notch. First, because Jensen, when he really let his guard down, was so freaking funny and he had the quickest wit Jared had ever battled with. Top that off with that gorgeous smile that just lit up his face and made his eyes flash jade fire, and Jared was finding it increasingly difficult not to stare at his co-star.
Then it happened.
They were shooting, and Sam and Dean were supposed to be digging up a grave, shovels in hand, with the camera filming behind them. Jared had been goofing off, but as soon as the take rolled, he bent over and his freaking jeans had ripped. Sure, it was embarrassing, but considering he had just spent a good five minutes waving his ass in front of the camera, it was more funny than anything.
“I just ripped my pants,” he had yelled with a laugh.
Then he heard it.
Jensen’s laughter.
Sure, the entire crew was laughing too but the sound of Jensen’s laughter came to him as clearly as if they had been the only two people there.
And he kept on laughing, doubled over, eyes tearing. All Jared knew was that it was the first time he had heard Jensen laugh - really laugh - with genuine humor and joy, with his whole body and not just his mouth or his face and he knew, he just knew, even though he didn’t quite understand how or why, he just felt it down to his bones and he knew he was absolutely screwed.
So Jared moved away, almost choking on the laughter he was forcing out of his chest, as if to cover up flashing his ass at everyone, but really, he just needed to get the hell away from Jensen before he gave into the sudden, incredible inclination to kiss his co-star.
Temporary insanity.
That’s what he put it down to. He wondered vaguely if he should be worried about these pretty frequent bouts of temporary - that being the key word - insanity.
It didn’t stop him from obsessing though.
Why did Jensen still dislike him so much? Why was he still holding himself so aloof, when sometimes Jared caught a look on his co-star’s face that bordered on friendly? In reality, and not to sound too egotistical, Jared knew he was a nice, loveable kind of guy. Almost everybody he met liked him. He just had that kind of innate ability to put people at their ease and they responded well in return. He had never had anyone outright hate him before and it bothered and saddened him more than he had ever thought possible.
He just needed to figure out why so that he could fix it, and right any wrongs, and make Jensen like him.
Because sometimes he got the feeling that Jensen maybe wanted to like him. Just a teeny, tiny bit.
He sighed as he headed for the food tent, stomach rumbling, his appetite pushing Jensen Ackles aside to take front and centre in his mind.
Then he heard that carefree, low laughter again; that soft, deep sound that seemed to come straight from Jensen’s heart and ignited a white hot spark inside Jared that felt a lot like jealousy. Who was making Jensen laugh like that? He glanced over in his co-star’s direction as he piled his plate with food.
Jensen was with a girl.
A really, really pretty young thing. And there went his appetite.
She was hugging him - and damned if that hadn’t just made Jared’s heart constrict painfully - and Jensen was hugging her back. Hugging. Jensen. PDAs. Jensen. It didn’t compute, Jared thought as he watched him stroking the girl’s hair as he sat beside her at one of the tables with his arm slung around her shoulders, leaning in close as he whispered something in her ear. She laughed delightedly and he seemed pretty proud to have made her respond like that.
Oh God, Jared almost dropped his plate as the thought jack-knifed through him: Jensen loved this girl. It was written all over his face, right there for the whole world, or the whole food tent anyway, to see.
Jared’s legs took him closer to Jensen’s table of their own volition. He really couldn’t think at this point; he was acting on instinct and every single one of them was focused on Jensen.
Jensen, who was pulling a small box from the inner pocket of his - Dean’s - leather jacket. Jensen, who was handing her the box, an expectant smile on his face. Jared’s eyes shifted slightly to the right to watch the girl as she opened the box, gasped in pleasure and turned to throw her arms around Jensen. Then she grabbed his cheeks with her hands and placed silly, happy kisses all over his face. Jensen blushed, and it was adorable, and Jared had to stifle a sigh of bone-deep appreciation.
If there had been a ring in that box, the answer was most definitely a ‘Yes’.
Jared’s heart felt like it was splintering in his chest. And it probably showed on his face, because actor or not, Jared could be read like a book on all things obvious.
And so, of course, that’s when Jensen looked up and saw him.
“Padalecki.”
“Ackles.” His response was rote, involuntary.
“OhmyGod! It’s Jared Padalecki! HolycrapJensen! He’s so much hotter in person!” The girl beside Jensen squealed in delight, and for a moment, Jared pinned her with a hard stare. How dare she find him hot when she had Jensen Ackles practically eating out of her hand? “Do you wanna join us for lunch? PleasePleasePleasePleasePlease? Jensen, make him join us for lunch.”
“Jesus,” Jensen gave her a hard stare before looking up at him. “Join us for lunch, Padalecki.”
Jared sat down. Why? Because Jensen said so. Jared was stupid for him. Or just plain stupid.
“Why do you call him that like that?” The girl asked Jensen.
“Was that even English?”
“I mean why do you call him ‘Padalecki’, all gruff and shit like you’re trying to scare him away?”
“My God, Momma was right. We should have you fitted for a muzzle.”
“Oh, you love me,” she grinned at him.
And all Jared could think was: this girl was so close to Jensen that she knew his Momma. Jared had a sneaking suspicion that only really special people got to meet Jensen’s family; the man was intensely private.
Goddamn it, now he wanted to meet Jensen’s Momma.
“I have to admit,” the girl was talking to him now. “I watch the show ‘cause Jensen’s in it but really, I keep watching ‘cause you’re hot, Jared Padalecki!” She took a moment to breathe. “And you know, ‘cause the show’s awesome!” Jared shot Jensen a look of surprise that translated into: Who is this girl?
“This is Mackenzie,” Jensen introduced, through gritted teeth. As if that explained his whole relationship with her.
“My friends are gonna totally freak out!” Mackenzie gushed. “Do you think I could get a picture with you, Jared?”
Before Jared could even begin to formulate a response to that query - which really, how hard was it to say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’? - Jensen turned to look at the girl in shock, his jaw actually dropping open.
“Mack! What the hell?” he whispered tightly. Jared could hear him just fine, but no one else in the food tent would have picked up his hushed tone. “I thought you hated this douchebag?” Ah, and there was the Jensen Jared knew and lo... er... knew.
“What?” Mackenzie looked perplexed. “What are you talking about?”
“What am I... what are you?” Jensen huffed in exasperation. Jared thought he looked really cute exasperated. “I mean... I thought this idiot hit on you! The WB party I took you to, remember? Chad Michael Murray and him,” Jensen turned to glare at Jared, and Jared actually flinched. Jensen’s glare intensified to epic proportions. “They made you cry.”
Jared gulped. Jesus. A protective, overbearing Jensen was some kind of freaking amazing, scary, stupidly hot, sight to behold.
“Oh,” Mackenzie’s confusion cleared up and she gave a small, embarrassed smile. “Oh. Er... It wasn’t like that. I think maybe you’re remembering it wrong. Sure, they hit on me... but, well, they were drunk.”
“You were sixteen!”
“They were only eighteen or whatever!”
“That’s not a goddamn good enough excuse, Mack!”
“Yeah, well,” Mackenzie hedged, looking guilty. Jared, had he been capable of voluntary movement at the time, would have pointed to her and said: Look at her, Jensen! Her fault somehow - not mine!
And then, Jensen did look at her.
“What are you not telling me?” He demanded. Demanded. Guh. The small, still-functioning part of Jared’s brain short-circuited.
“I may have hit on Chad Michael Murray a bit first, and he may have slobbered all over me, at which point Jared may have pulled Chad off of me. To - get this, I still remember what he said to me, it was so stupid - to protect my virtuous virginal virtue. Jeez,” she shook her head at Jared. “What an idiot.”
“No argument there,” Jensen huffed looking at him in disbelief, but Mackenzie continued as if he hadn’t spoken.
“Then they left and I cried and you found me and I hated them both and yeah...,” she trailed off.
Jensen scrunched his eyes closed as his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. “So, let me get this straight. You hit on Murray, who was going to take you up on your offer, and Padalecki protected your... virtue?”
“Umm, yeah?”
“And why couldn’t you tell me that?”
“I was totally mortified! Plus, I thought you might kill Chad and I never figured you’d actually end up working with Jared and holding it against him. Holy crap, Jensen, that was years ago!”
“Jesus, Mack!” Jensen looked at her in frustration, “I thought that they… that you… Jesus Christ! Can you blame me?” Jensen practically bellowed before realizing they weren’t alone. He tempered his tone. “You should have told me!” He frowned at Mackenzie for a good few seconds, until she mumbled an apology to both him and Jared and then… then Jensen finally looked at Jared.
It was a quick thing. Like, blink and you’d miss it. But it was there; that flash of contrition. A silent: I put myself through all this shit for nothing?
And just like that, Jared found his voice.
“So, that’s why you were mad at me all this time?” He asked in wonder, his voice increasing in volume with every word. “You thought I had...? How could you think I would ever...? Fuck.”
“Hey! Watch your language in front of my kid sister, Sasquatch.” Jared did a double take at that new piece of information, his mood soaring to the stratosphere, and an inane thought pushed to the forefront of his mind: so that’s how she knew Jensen’s Momma.
Jesus, Padalecki, Jensen’s right. You are an idiot.
“Your sister?” Jared grinned as Jensen nodded in confirmation. Now the hatred made all the sense in the universe. He could easily imagine himself doing the same thing had their positions had been reversed. “Your sister. Mackenzie. Mackenzie Ackles. Well, howdy, Mackenzie Ackles,” Jared beamed at her. Heck, he got right up off his ass, walked ‘round to her side of the table and grabbed her up into a bear hug. She chuckled delightedly and snuggled into his embrace, so he placed a smacking kiss on the crown of her head.
Jensen glared at him. And really, Jared couldn’t stop himself.
He hauled his co-star up off his chair and hugged him too.
Finally.
“Your entire reason for hating me...”
“Hate seems overly harsh...”
“Overly harsh, my ass. Your entire raison d’être...”
“Dude.”
“Whatever, I know foreign shit! Anyway, all of it was just completely invalidated by the very person you thought I had wronged. We should totally kiss and make up.”
“I’m not kissing anything on, or anywhere near you.”
“Fine, then let’s just make up and really be BFFs.”
“You can’t just go from mortal enemies to best friends in the blink of an eye, you moron.”
“Sure, you can! Who says you can’t?”
“I do.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“Of course you don’t, freaking Jolly not-so-Green Giant.”
“Well, at least do it for the sex.”
“What sex?”
“Make up sex, Jensen. I hear make up sex is awesome!”
“Eric? Eric! Can I off Padalecki?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No. Play nice, boys.”
“No one understands my pain.”
“I do, Jennybean. You hurt, I hurt. And you wanna know why? Because as of right now, we’re gonna be best friends, dude! It’s going to be so awesome! You’re gonna be the ying to my yang, baby, I can just tell. We can actually hang out and shit now. We can catch a Canucks game - you like hockey, dontcha? I’ll even buy you a jersey, dude! With ‘Smeckles’ on the back. All right, all right, quit giving me that death glare, Ackles on the back. Then maybe, we can go down to Seattle and catch a football game. We can go skiing in Whistler, Jen! Can you ski? Can you skate? How about snow-shoeing? How about...”
“Eric? Eric! Can I off myself?”
“Tempting, Ackles, but I’ma have to say ‘No’.”
“Please?
“No. Final Answer.”
“Fuck me.”
“Hey, I thought you weren’t interested in make-up sex? You’re so totally hot for my bod, Jennybean. C’mere! Show me some lovin’, darlin’. Ow! What’d ya have to hit me for, Jen? Have you forgotten the Play Nice Proviso? This could totally be construed as co-star abuse, dude!”
The knock on his trailer door at the end of filming that day wasn’t all that surprising to Jared but finding his co-star standing on the steps looking up at him definitely was.
“Hey,” Jensen greeted him. Jared could not help the broad grin that lit up his face. This would mark the first time Jensen Ackles had ever sought out his company. If he kept a diary, this moment would be going down in it surrounded by doodles of hearts and balloons, Jared was sure. Because yeah, apparently there was a thirteen year-old girl trapped somewhere inside him.
“Hey, Jensen! Come on in, take a load off.” Jensen entered but made no move to sit down. He looked tortured. Jared, immediately concerned, put both hands on him, yanking him close by grabbing his jacket. “What is it?”
Jensen huffed out a breath and then, looking for all intents and purposes as if he was steeling himself for some monumental battle. “I’ve been an ass,” he said gruffly, examining the toe of his boot with great interest for almost a minute before huffing again and looking up at Jared. “No. I’ve been a complete dick and I’ve treated you like shit and you didn’t deserve any of it and fuck, I hate being wrong about people, and I kinda had a feeling I was wrong about you but I couldn’t... oh fuck.” He paused to inhale deeply. “I’m sorry, Jared.”
Jared blinked idiotically at him. “You called me Jared.”
Now, it was Jensen’s turn to blink in surprise. “What? That’s it? That’s what you have to say?” He asked incredulously.
“Well, I mean you call me Jared when we’re in public but never when we’re... like this,” Jared grinned, still rendered somewhat stupid by the grumpy yet graceful apology.
Jensen looked at him in genuine wonder for a moment before an awkward, almost involuntary chuckle burst out of him. “You’re... you’re something else, you know that? I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you in my entire life.”
“Yeah, one of a kind, dude,” Jared gave Jensen’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. “That... that’s... you meant that in a good way, right?”
“Yeah,” Jensen smiled up at him. A real, honest-to-goodness genuine smile. The first smile ever directed at right at him, and Jared had to remind himself to breathe. Jensen suddenly... uncoiled. There was no other way to describe it. It was as if he could now finally relax. “Yeah. We good?”
“We’re great, man,” Jared laughed, his eyes teasing. “You know I’ma have to hug you now, right?”
“Of fucking course, Mr. PDA,” Jensen smirked but before Jared could move, he leaned in and hugged Jared.
Jensen Ackles hugged him and Jared’s inner teenage girl just died and went to heaven.
It figured that just when he and Jensen had finally buried the hatchet, the writers went on strike. Jared wholeheartedly supported them - heck, they were justified - but the timing of it all sucked. As their winter hiatus stretched on indeterminably, it was starting to look as if the show itself could be in jeopardy. The possibility that Supernatural could get cancelled became more real as the days passed and Jared had to physically restrain himself from reaching out to Jensen, seeking reassurance, support. They weren’t even really friends yet, not really, not by anyone’s definition, so the fact that he felt he needed Jensen was odd. It surely didn’t have anything to do with the fear churning in his gut at the possibility that he may never get to work with Jensen again.
Oh, who was he trying to kid?
The highlight of his holiday season had been a text from Jensen wishing him a merry Christmas. And if that didn’t succinctly summarize how tied up in knots Jensen still made him, Jared didn’t know what did. He had kind of hoped all these weird feelings he had for Jensen would go away now that they were tentative compadres. No such luck. It was as if there was a frequency in his brain that was constantly tuned into a channel that broadcast all Jensen, all the time. So, Jared decided to run far, far away. He took himself and his girl off to Europe to forget. Forget the strike, forget the fact that he might not have a job to come back to, forget his co-star.
In Paris, he proposed to Sandy.
So maybe his plan had worked. Maybe he had forgotten. He felt happy. Happy with his life, happy with Sandy. Then the strike ended and they had to return to Vancouver and he saw Jensen waiting for him at their gate at LAX, and he remembered. He remembered, and it was confusing and it complicated everything, but Jared valiantly pushed it all to the back of his mind and resolutely refused to acknowledge it. Now was not the time, anyway; the show had to go on.
He and Jensen had arranged to take the same flight into Vancouver and he was pretty happy about that; chilling with Jensen was just plain awesome. That’s what he needed to focus on - laying a foundation for their newly minted friendship.
The flight was good and they took a cab to their house but it was only when they were walking up the front path that they remembered Alyssa’s promise to have all the decorating done by their return. Jared let Jensen go ahead of him up the front steps.
“I’ve always liked this,” Jensen said distractedly, running his hand down the stained glass pane on the front door, his fingers tracing a ray of the sunburst. Jared watched the movement and had to repress a stupid urge to cover Jensen’s hand with his.
“Me too, it’s homey. Let’s go in, man, I can’t wait to see what she did with the place.”
“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses, cowboy,” Jensen chuckled as he unlocked and pushed the door open. Then he gasped and stalled on the doorstep, Jared walking right into him, his arms winding their way around Jensen’s body so naturally, it was as if they belonged there. Jared didn’t pull away though, he was too busy taking in the front entrance of his... of their home.
“Wow,” Jensen grinned at him over his shoulder and it still left him breathless. Goddamn it.
The house from the outside had always been stately and beautiful, now the inside matched the exterior perfectly. The textured tiles at their feet were the color of the sand on Venice Beach on an overcast day, and the entire hallway was now tiled, the hideous carpet they’d had before, history. The walls were painted the exact shade of a café latte, warm and soft, the color a perfect complement to the tiles.
“I like,” Jared channeled a little Borat to show his approval and it earned him a smile in return as he followed Jensen into the huge combined living and dining room. Same colors in here except there were accents of a soft shade of blue that must have had a fancy-color name, but damned if he knew what it was; it just looked right, like a piece of Texas sky on a bright summer day. Alyssa had outdone herself; just the right amount of color to be inviting and not overwhelming. She had even put a vase of deep red and purple silk flowers on the dining table, a little girly but it all... fit together somehow. The large antique-y looking framed map of the world that hung above the new couch fit. And, oh wow, the new couch. It was a huge, four-cushioned, chocolate-brown number that looked extremely comfortable, and it was flanked by matching loveseats on either side. All the other furniture was either deep mahogany or shiny steel but while the individual pieces may not have matched exactly, they all fit and they perfectly complemented each other and the gleaming hardwood floors.
“Man, she did an amazing job,” Jensen said in awe. “This is perfect. Perfect! I love it!”
“Me too! It’s all kinds of awesome! I can’t wait to put up pictures of family and stuff.”
“Had a feeling you would be a nester,” Jensen joked.
“Whatever. You’re totally gonna do the same thing. Even if I have to do it for you,” Jared darted a teasing glance at him. “Just be thankful I’m not putting up a big-ass framed picture of the two of us over the mantle, dude. I mean, that would really be playing house.”
Jensen looked truly horrified, and Jared guffawed. “You wouldn’t...”
“I was kidding but now, I dunno...”
“Idiot,” Jensen ragged him with a warm smile before heading to the kitchen, Jared on his heels, whistling low as they took in the new breakfast booth. Gone was that awful little table with the teeny chairs, and good riddance, Jared thought to himself.
“Hoo-whee! The colors match the stained glass windows in here. I love how she tied everything together. It has a Tex-Mex feel to it.”
“Yeah,” Jensen murmured, taking it all in, “my momma would love this.”
“Mine too. You know, I might actually wanna cook stuff now.”
“We should, I dunno, make an effort to eat in. Take turns cooking or something. Can you really cook?”
“I’m not half-bad. I watch the Food Network and then try shit out. Works out all right - haven’t inadvertently given myself food-poisoning yet.”
“Good to know,” Jensen’s hand came up to rub the back of his neck as a blush suddenly rose up his cheeks. Jared sighed at the adorableness of it. It was a knee-jerk reaction now: Jensen smiles, Jared sighs sappily. Christ. “I can bake shit.”
Jared blinked. “Huh?”
“Don’t say a word,” he warned, but Jared was so impressed at the admission, he wasn’t about to say anything, because earning these little nuggets of information about Jensen’s life made Jared feel so privileged, and living together as friends was going to be the death of him, he was sure. “It’s an Ackles family tradition. Dad and my brother Josh are chefs, and Momma is a pastry chef; it’s what we do really. Mack and I didn’t follow in their footsteps, but we can all bake and each one of us has our specialties.”
“Dude, that’s awesome. Tell me everyone’s specialty. I, like, absolutely need to know or I won’t be able to sleep tonight!”
Jensen chuckled. “Momma bakes the best cakes you’ll ever eat; so light and fluffy, the cake just melts in your mouth, you know? Her specialty is strawberry shortcake. Dad’s brownies are to die for, and oh - his banana-chocolate-chip bread. Josh is the pie-master. I swear, Jared, you would love them; man’s a genius with fruit. And Mack’s specialty is making petit fours, although her mousse cakes are amazing too.”
“Wait, what are... something fours?”
“Petit fours? It’s French; they’re bite-sized little layer cakes wrapped in marzipan and decorated fancy. Mack’s really good at that, it takes a lot of patience.”
“And you? What are you good at, Jen?” Jared didn’t even realize his voice had dipped lower, softer and he had moved closer to Jensen, absolutely fascinated; and he didn’t think it was because of his epic love for desserts. Jensen’s blush deepened.
“Pastries. Caramel éclairs are my specialty. And trifle,” he grinned sheepishly. “My trifles are pretty good.”
“So when am I gonna sample your talents?” Jared asked eagerly, and Jensen laughed.
“We’ll work something out. In the meantime, let’s go check out the rest of the house. Upstairs or downstairs?”
“Down first,” Jared replied as they walked through the dimly lit corridor leading to the back of the house. The study cum office now had a bookcase-lined wall, a solid-looking desk and two leather armchairs facing the fireplace. Jensen’s bedroom was right next door, his favorite shade of blue accenting the warm, buttery color of the walls. It looked really welcoming and it made Jared want to rush upstairs to get a look at his, before he could do something stupid like flop down on Jensen’s bed and spend the night there. Upstairs, he fell hard for his bedroom. It was dominated by that same creamy shade as Jensen’s room but accented with greens, that came close but could never top, the green of Jensen’s eyes, he thought with a smirk. It was good. It was perfect.
It was home.
