runedgirl | Where Sam and Dean Leave Off and We Begin

Title: Where Sam and Dean Leave off and We Begin
Fandom:RPS
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: Eventually NC-17, but you have to wait
Summary: Things in the show have a way of spilling over into their personal lives, and vice versa

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

The next morning was a long one in make-up for poor Jensen.

“You look like shit,” Angelina hissed. “Did you get any sleep at all??” She gave Jared a withering look, as if to say he must have been at least partly to blame for Jensen’s carousing.

“I think so,” Jensen growled, his voice husky. He caught Jared’s eye in the mirror. Jared just smiled and shrugged.

Angelina held his chin as she tried to remove the stubble he’d missed shaving. Jared watched in the mirror, remembering the feel of it against his chin when they’d kissed. He wondered if Jensen remembered anything.

“You might as well take a nap, Jared,” Angelina told him. “Your buddy here is gonna need at least an hour to be transformed back into a handsome heartthrob.”

Jensen rolled his eyes at Jared in the mirror. Jared grinned at him. “Oh, I dunno Ange. I think he looks every bit the handsome heartthrob,” Jared spoke directly at Jensen’s reflection.

“Stop smiling, you’re ruining your shave!” Angelina tried to push the corners of Jensen’s mouth down in mock annoyance. “Jared, stop being so sweet to him, he doesn’t deserve it.”

Now Jared was positively flirting. “Oh yeah, I think he does,” he said smoothly. In spite of the condition of his aching head, Jensen grinned again, til Angelina turned around and whacked Jared with the towel in her other hand. “Jared! Cut it out or I’m gonna kick you outta here. I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

Jared laughed and sat back in the chair. “Okay, okay, I’m just gonna sit here and watch,” he said. Jensen raised an eyebrow at him knowingly in the mirror before Angelina pushed him back in the chair to start the serious business of erasing the effects of the night before.

Jared kept grinning. Maybe Jensen did remember.

* * *

“How’s your head?” Jared asked as they left the make-up trailer and walked to the set. He’d been watching closely as Angelina worked her magic on Jensen, and hadn’t missed the slight grimaces every time she moved his head or turned one of the bright lights toward his face. Hadn’t missed the line of his jaw in profile either, or the curve of those lips. How soft and pliant they were as Angelina smoothed clear gel from side to side to moisturize them. Just the way they moved under her fingers, tugging, then glistening with moisture, made Jared’s stomach flutter. He knew what those lips felt like, pressed to his own urgently, opening for his insistent tongue. Jesus, he had to stop this. Had to stop letting his mind go to those places, those things, but god, Jensen was gorgeous. Jared had just let his eyes drop to Jensen’s thighs, wondering why he’d never really appreciated how muscular they were before, when Angelina had finally finished.

“Fine,” Jensen shrugged, already heading across the lot.

“Liar.” Jared caught up, slapped his costar on the shoulder, needing to touch him, somehow, anywhere, just touch him. “Bet you’ve got a bitch of a hangover.”

Jensen winced at being jostled.

“See? Knew it.”

“Then why did you slap me?” Jensen demanded, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. “And keep your voice down, will ya?”

Jared snorted in response. “That’ll be hard, since I have to yell at you in this scene. And push you up against a wall.”

Jensen groaned. “Why is Kim picking such fucking demanding scenes? Can’t we just have a calm – quiet – discussion-like scene? You know, Sam and Dean sitting around talking about the weather?”

“Oh yeah, cuz they do a lot of that.”

They were on the set now, and Jensen swung into consummate professional mode, greeting cast and crew and director with a smile. Only Jared could see the twitch at the corners of that impressive mouth that gave away his discomfort.

* * *

Maybe it was just luck, the director thought, or maybe the universe was just lined up in a favorable configuration right now, but whatever it was, it was so working. Jensen Ackles was always good, always. In fact, Kim was continually impressed with how good he was considering his age, though of course he’d been acting since he was a kid. But recently there was more depth than ever before, as though his speaks-volumes-in-silence eyes had learned an entirely new language.

Jared had him pinned against the wall, both hands curled tightly around the lapels of his leather jacket, jerking him upright and pushing him back hard. Jensen looked like he was going to cry, like he was barely able to hold it together at that moment. He’d gasped as his shoulders impacted the wall, or maybe it had been his head, Kim couldn’t tell. And now he was staring up at the taller man with such agony etched onto his pretty features, his deep green eyes wet and pleading. The director could hear him breathing raggedly through the mic.

Jared readjusted his grip, and Jensen actually moaned, still holding the other actor’s gaze. Almost inaudible, but Kim heard it. And so did Jared. For a long moment he didn’t move, his eyes searching Jensen’s, and the director could read his indecision. Do I keep going? Am I hurting him? Does he want me to?

For once, he did them a favor. “Cut,” he directed, softly but with all the authority of his position. The cameraman took a moment to respond, not expecting it, not seeing what Kim was. “Cut,” the director repeated, and then to his actors. “Take a break, guys.”

Jensen swallowed hard, wincing as Jared slowly relaxed his hold, leaving his hands resting lightly on Jensen’s chest. It seemed like an impossibility to step back now, to put distance between them again, when Jensen was looking up at him this way. When those jade eyes were so full of pain and confusion. Jensen’s lashes were wet, making them look even longer and darker than their usual impossible length. He had eyes like a girl. Better.

Finally – reluctantly – Jared stepped back. Jensen rubbed at the back of his head, making a face. “Sorry,” he said, his voice gravelly.

“Sorry? For what?” Jared was confused – again. A state that was becoming alarmingly familiar to him every time he was around his costar.

Jensen was still leaning against the wall, possibly because it was helping hold him up. “I -- I’m – my head hurts, is all.” He shook himself impatiently. “God, sorry dude, I don’t mean to be such a pussy here.” He looked at Jared nervously, shuffled his feet, and once again Jared had the sneaking suspicion he was talking about something other than his hangover. “You’ll probably bust me for it like hell tomorrow.” He ducked his head and then met Jared’s eyes with a shy smile.

Jesus, what a look. Jared felt himself flooded with unexpected heat at the warmth in Jensen’s gaze, at the way he was staring up at him through half-lowered lashes. Jesus.
That self-deprecating grin snaked through Jared’s insides like fire, settling below his belly in a dull throb. He’d seen it a thousand times before, it was one of Jensen’s trademarks, that duck and smile, that shyness in the midst of bravado. But now it seemed to have become a secret weapon, one that made Jared’s legs feel weak. What the fuck? He wanted to say Jen, did you like it when I kissed you? Are you mad at me for it, are you upset about it? He wanted to say when you look at me like that I can’t think straight, it goes right to my dick and makes me stupid. He wanted to say please to fuckinggod tell me you want me to kiss you again.

But instead he just said, “Yeah, I probably will.”

The little-boy hopeful look on Jensen’s face faded at Jared’s words. Jensen closed his eyes and sighed against the wall. “Figured.”

What he’d figured wasn’t entirely clear to Jared, because Jared certainly hadn’t figured out anything at all. Not the reason Jensen had just fixed him with such a provocative stare. Not the reason his costar kept looking so anguished, eyes glimmering with something that Jared was pretty sure had nothing to do with having a headache. As much as he wanted to ask whether Jensen regretted – hell, whether he even remembered – their kiss, Jared was too afraid of the answer to risk it. Too embarrassed that he’d actually done it. The nagging worry that he’d taken advantage of Jensen being so drunk only made the fear worse.

“Why don’t we grab a bite and get you some more Advil,” Jared suggested. “Kim told us to take a break, we should take advantage.”

When the green eyes opened, Jensen was back to being himself again. Which meant guarded and composed and more than a little inscrutable. But really, Jared thought, you have no one to blame but yourself for that.

* * *

For a month, they didn’t talk about it. Jensen stayed composed and inscrutable, and Jared stayed composed on the outside and unraveling underneath. All day long he tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach every time he met his costar’s gaze, every time their shoulders touched, every time Jensen laughed or his eyes went soft and dark and lonesome with Dean’s emotions. He let Sam’s feelings talk for him, showered them on Dean, raw and tender and heartfelt, and devoured the emotions turned back to him like a starving man, drank in the pain and longing and love that Dean showered on his brother in return.

He came to dread the ‘cut’, the moment when the spell was broken and Dean’s – Jensen’s – feelings faded. When they went back to being coworkers and colleagues, and the spark of passion left those incredible emerald eyes. Jared found himself wishing for more of those pseudo-gay moments that he used to find so threatening, just for the chance to be close to Jensen, even though he inevitably froze when he was. Just for the fleeting glimpses he thought he saw of real emotion in the other man’s eyes, even if it was just the steely glint of anger.

He knew Jensen was angry, shut down, closed off. And somehow he knew he was responsible for that too. He just wasn’t sure why, or if he really wanted to know. What was the point? It wasn’t like anything was really going to happen between the two of them. Why risk opening up those kind of feelings only to have to swallow them back down again? It hurt too much. So little by little, he closed that part of him off too. The part that craved that look in Jensen’s eyes. The part that remembered the feel of his mouth.

Maybe they would have left it at that, kept their emotional distance, if two things hadn’t happened.

The first was upsetting. The second was a fucking disaster.

Chapter 8

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

walkawayslowly.livejournal.com

WHAT!? NOOOO!!! You can't leave me hanging like that!!! *pants* *grabby hands* MOOOOOORE!!!

Okay. Sorry. :p I'm ALL EMOTIONAL over here! See my misuse of punctuation!?! POOR BOYS!! Make them happy!!

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Where Sam and Dean Leave Off and We Begin - Chapter 7

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