runedgirl | Only Their Hairdresser Knows for Sure

Title:Only Their Hairdresser Knows For Sure
Pairing:Jared/Jensen
Rating: R for excessive use of the word “fuck” as a verb, not to mention as a noun and an adjective.
Warnings: Lots of talking. And a limerick.
Disclaimers: It’s fiction folks!! Any similarity between this Jared and Jensen and the real actors is intentionally coincidental.

Anyone working on the set would have had to have been deaf, dumb, blind, numb and comatose not to have noticed that something was going on with their two stars. Horseplay one minute, pissed off the next. Joined at the hip, then reluctant to be in the same room. Some people were starting to get nervous. Some were laying on their shrink’s couches working through anxiety attacks. Some were getting plastered and making mental notes to work on their resumes. After all, the show depended on their chemistry. Everyone knew it; everyone said it. No chemistry, no show.

There was one person though who knew everything was going to be alright. Jeannie knew the moment she laid her hand on Jensen’s head.

Three weeks earlier . . .

“Freaking fuck me Jen.”

Jensen hated it when Jared whined. “No, it’ll ruin everything and I’m not doing that.”

“Fine, you don’t want the responsibility, then I’ll take it. I want you to do this, I’m asking you to do this.”

“No.”

“You don’t think this is ruining everything?”

“This” was the two of them splayed out on Jared’s sofa, shirts open, lips swollen.

“No, I think this is nice.”

Jared couldn’t argue with that. No, he really couldn’t argue with that since Jensen had resumed sucking Jared’s bottom lip into his mouth.

One week earlier . . .

“C’mon Jen. Fuck me already.”

“No Jay. Haven’t we had this conversation?”

“No, we haven’t. You just say no. That’s not a conversation.”

“OK. Let’s discuss the fact that you’re not even gay.”

“Umm, I’m asking you to shove your dick up my ass. I’m thinking that makes me at least a little bit gay.”

“Yeah - exactly my point.”

“I’m not seeing your point Jensen.” Jared couldn’t resist smirking at that, even through his frustration. Jensen got the joke and tried his damnedest not to laugh.

“My point - “ Jensen had to look down and away, pressing his lips tightly together to control himself. This was not, definitely *not*, a laughing matter. Deep breath. “My point, Jared, is that we need to stop this before you - “

“What? Turn gay? I’m pretty sure that’s not the way it works. Besides, what would you call this?”

“This” was Jensen pushed up against a wall in Jared’s trailer, shirts gone, lips swollen, hardened nipples a little the worse for wear..

“We call this ‘good’,” Jensen said just before he slid his tongue back into Jared’s mouth. He’d learned it was one way to keep him quiet.

Four days earlier . . .

“Please Jensen.” Maybe if he used his best puppy dog eyes and begged, Jensen would give in.

“No!” Apparently Jensen was *not* giving in.

“OK, how about I fuck you?”

“No!”

A compromise? “We fuck each other?”

“No!”

“What is your problem?” There was that whine again.

“You’re really nothing like Sam, you know that?” Jensen said.

“What?”

“You’re the one who thinks too much with his downstairs brain.”

Jared gave him one of those *looks*, one of those “whatthefuckareyoutalkingabout?” looks.

Jensen sighed, the way a parent might at having to explain to their kid for the fiftieth time that no, he cannot have all the rubber bands in the house so that he can bungy jump off the roof and no he does not care that little Timmy’s mother let him. And btw, when was little Timmy getting out of the hospital? Jared got the point.

“Look, all I know is that I cannot take this too much longer”

“This” was the two of them laying on the rug in Jensen’s livingroom, shirts gone, lips swollen, nipples much worse for the gnawing they had endured, jeans’ buttons unbuttoned, sticky fingers groping.

“Ok, I’ll stop,” Jensen said, sliding his hand out of Jared’s pants and beginning to get up.

“Like fuck you will.” Jared grabbed him before he got very far, replaced the hand, resumed the groping.

Twelve hours earlier . .

“You know you want to,” Jared smirked. “I know you want to. I can smell it on your breath. You just whimpered for chrissakes.”

“That’s a lie!”

“You’re so hard you’re leaking.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you know that?” Jensen panted.

“Because of the stain on the front of your pants.” Jared was invading all of what little personal space Jensen had left. “How does Jensen want me? Let me count the ways.”

“What? You’re gonna recite poetry to me now.”

“Hand job.” Jared held up one finger. Jensen licked it. “Blow job.” Jared held up a second finger. Jensen sucked them both into his mouth. “Up the ass.” Jared held up three fingers, then put two of them back down, just leaving his middle finger up, and then wagging it at Jensen.

“That doesn’t even rhyme.”

“Free verse. But hey if you want rhymes . . . There once was a hot boy from Dallas, who had the most amazing phallus - “

“Why is it so important to you?” Jensen interrupted him. “Can’t we just keep on doing this?”

“This” was Jensen pressed underneath Jared on Jared’s bed, shirts long gone, lips past swollen, nipples aching, jeans around their knees, oxygen all but gone from their bodies, from the room.

“Because if we keep this up my head is going to explode,” Jared breathed into Jensen’s ear.

Jensen glanced down, checking out Jared’s other head and laughed. “Ow man, that sounds really painful.” Jared wasn’t laughing with him this time. “C’mon - messing around is - “

“I want to have your children!” Jared blurted out.

“What??”

“What do you want me to say man? Messing around? I don’t want messing around.” Jared stopped and thought for a moment. “Well I do want messing around, but I want more. I want it all Jensen. I want *you*.”

Still no reaction from Jensen.

“You’re an idiot!” Jared said and rolled off Jensen, flopping on the bed next to him and closing his eyes.

It was a full minute before he heard it. “No, I’m not,” Jensen whispered in his ear. Jared’s body went rigid. Jensen nipped at Jared’s earlobe. “I’m smart enough to know not to give up something great unless I’m being offered something better. You offering?”

“I’ve been offering.”

“Nope. You’ve been offering your dick. Got one of my own thank you very much.”

“I’m offering more than my dick.”

“Your ass, your mouth. I’m assuming I get the mouth too?”

“You know what I’m offering.”

“Yeah.” Jensen began a wet trailing kiss that began on the side of Jared’s neck, making stops at his collar bone, dipping into his armpit, before moving down his chest and arriving at his naval.

“You accept?”

“Yeah.”

Two hours earlier . . .

Eight hours and three fucks later, they were standing in Jared’s shower together. Jared was getting Jensen into a lather in all senses of the word.

“Naw, Jared stop.”

“Why?” Jared asked, not seeming like he cared about the answer at all.

“My dick hurts man. I think you broke it last night.”

“Didn’t feel broken to me.”

“Aren’t you sore?”

“Yeah.” Jared smiled broadly before dragging Jensen under the hot stream of water, kissing hungrily, hand sliding down Jensen’s soapy side before coming to rest on a jutting hipbone. “Yeah.” He didn’t sound like he minded.

***********************
Jensen looked wrecked, as he stumbled into the trailer. Hardly an encouraging sight considering he was the star. Shannon was going to be pissed with him. And worried. But the minute Jeannie ran her hands through Jensen’s hair she knew it was going to be fine. She smiled. In fact she beamed.

She leaned over Jensen whose eyes were closed and whispered in his ear. “You and Jared worked things out, huh?”

Jensen’s eyes snapped open and he twirled around in the chair to face her. “What? How?”

She spun him back around and continued working on his hair, her smile taking on three shades of wicked now. Jensen just stared at her in the mirror, open mouthed and confused. OK, the whole show was about freaky things happening, but this? Was everyone a psychic now?

Jeannie was enjoying herself, but she also figured it was time to let poor Jensen off the hook. She leaned over him again so no one else would hear. “You should leave some of your own shampoo at his place from now on. His stuff - completely wrong for you.”

So it was true what they say. Only their hairdresser knew for sure.