Jensen woke up with a heaviness in his body and a tightness in his bladder that made him reasonably sure he'd slept longer than he had in a couple of months. He still didn't feel like opening his eyes, even to glance at the clock, but he knew he'd need to manage it within a couple of minutes in order to see his way out of Jeff's bedroom and into the bathroom before his eyeballs started swimming. He could feel the curve of a warm body in the bed in front of him, and he stretched his arm out only to find that Jeff's chest felt far narrower--and furrier--than normal.
Jensen popped his eyes open to see Bisou craning her head around to look at him. Her mouth hung open in a happy pant, and she rolled further onto her back, baring her tummy as her tail beat against the covers.
"Hey, girl, where's your daddy?" Jensen sat up, swinging his legs to the floor, and Bisou rolled back over with a jerk, leaping to the floor and making it around the side of the bed before Jensen was fully vertical.
Jensen pulled on sweats and a t-shirt and followed Bisou out of the room. He made his way to the bathroom and then stood and stretched. The kinks of too many hours in bed pinched at his neck and back, but the sleep had wiped out the worst of his exhaustion, and Jeff had pushed his way through the empty, dark feeling of Dean that had been lodged inside his chest. The jingling of tags and the tap dance of toenails on the wooden floor of the hallway alerted him to the fact that Bisou was getting impatient for him to finish his business.
"Okay, Lassie," he said when he opened the door to imploring brown eyes. "Let's go find Timmy in the well."
Bisou took off running headlong down the stairs, and Jensen followed her to the kitchen where he found a note on the table next to a plastic-wrap covered plate of pastries and an insulated carafe.
Call me if there's anything particular you're hungry for.
The coffee's fresh.
Jensen smiled and folded the note carefully before setting it back down on the table. The clock said 12:30, plenty of time for breakfast before Jeff got back. He poured himself a mug of coffee and selected a bear claw from the plate. Bisou stood next to the back door looking hopeful, so Jensen opened the door to let her out into the yard. The day felt pleasantly warm, a nice change from the sharp chill that still hung around Vancouver in March. The promise of getting a little honest California sunshine on his face led him out to the back deck. Settled into one of Jeff's padded Adirondack chairs, Jensen ate his breakfast and thought about how nice it would be to spend the day with Jeff doing approximately nothing before he had to head back up for the last week of filming.
Mesmerized by the changing patterns of light and shadow created by sunlight and a breeze moving through the tree that hung over the deck, Jensen didn't realize Jeff was home until the door from the house opened and Bisou came scrambling back up to meet him.
"Hey, pretty girlie." Jeff bent down to scratch Bisou behind the ears. He straightened then walked over to Jensen's chair, only to bend down again and press a kiss to Jensen's lips. "Mmmm, good morning. You get enough rest?"
"Yeah. Shit, I just got up half an hour ago."
"Good. You were seriously wasted, babe." The look of concern on Jeff's face made Jensen think that his mother and Jeff could be an over-protective force to be reckoned with if they ever joined together. But no--introducing Jeff to his family was likely to be a shit storm, and Jensen didn't feel like even thinking about anything that stressful.
"Oh, yeah, you're one to talk. Don't forget I saw you last year." Exhaustion had seeped out of Jeff in all directions when he'd been caught up in filming the last few episodes of both Grey's and Supernatural. Two shows and two cities and just one man stretched tight between them. They hadn't been together yet then, but every time they got close Jensen had felt a tight clench in his gut and a catch in his breath that made his head shout RUN.
He let Jared be the nice guy, patting Jeff on the back when he sounded like he was going to hack up a lung, giving him a hand up from the floor after a long day of stunts. But Jensen had done his best to be at his best in their scenes, to not contribute his own fuck-ups to lengthening the shooting day.
Now that Jeff was so very there for him, Jensen wished he could go back in time and do more.
"Yeah." Jeff nodded. "So I know what I'm talking about. Unless there's something pressing, you should just stay here and chill out until it's time to get your flight tomorrow."
"Sounds just like what I had in mind." Jensen grinned.
"Oh. Well, good." Jeff rubbed a hand over Jensen's shoulder. "Need some more coffee?"
"Yeah, thanks." Jensen handed over his mug. "You know, it tasted kind of funny, though."
Jeff raised an eyebrow, and his cheeks folded into dimples. "Decaf."
"You bastard," Jensen replied without heat and shook his head as Jeff turned away, laughing quietly.
Jeff's grand plan for the day was a picnic in the backyard. After a second cup of fake coffee, Jensen had managed to go inside and get cleaned up and dressed. Jeff wouldn't accept any help in the kitchen, so Jensen went back out on the deck and couldn't keep himself from drifting off when he'd only meant to close his eyes against the sunshine.
He woke up when the cooking smells from inside worked their way into his dreams. He walked back into the kitchen to find Jeff slicing up roast beef. "Hey, sorry I conked out again."
"Don't be sorry--it's all under control in here."
"I see that." Jensen looked over the covered bowls on the table. "Anything I can do to help?"
"Nah. Oh, you can grab the blanket there and lay it out in the yard." He nodded to the faded old comforter folded on a chair. "Food'll be ready in about ten minutes. You can take that cooler, too, if you want."
Jensen tucked the blanket under one arm and picked up the small cooler in the opposite hand before shouldering his way out the door. He set the cooler down by the base of the stairs leading up to the deck and shook out the comforter. It took him a couple of minutes to get the whole thing unfolded on the ground, especially with Bisou sniffing around, trying to figure out what kind of game he was playing.
The beer from the cooler felt cold and perfect in Jensen's mouth, the taste bitter turning sweet, and before he was halfway through the bottle Jeff was walking down the deck stairs, balancing the food in a laundry basket.
They had sandwiches--roast beef with spicy mustard piled high on crusty rolls, mozzarella and tomato salad, grilled asparagus. They ate sprawled on the blanket, eschewing the cutlery Jeff had brought out, licking mustard and basil and olive oil off their fingers. Bisou ate her own pile of roast beef, pulling the thin shaved slices into her mouth with a delicacy that looked improbable.
When the food was gone, the three of them lay on their backs, bellies full, gazing up into the dimming mid-afternoon sky. Jensen slid his hand across the blanket until he felt his knuckles bump into Jeff's wrist. Jeff turned his hand to twine their fingers together, and Jensen closed his eyes, concentrating on the connection.
He could feel the ground under him, everything still and quiet the way they so very rarely were, and Jeff's hand in his, rough skin and a little bit of grease from the food. Jeff squeezed his hand and tugged on his arm.
"Come on over here."
Jensen rolled over and scooted across the blanket to fit himself to Jeff's side. Jeff's chest under his hand felt as solid as the ground, and his tongue tasted like basil and garlic. Jensen's knee fell between Jeff's, the denim of their jeans catching against each other, and when Jeff pulled his mouth away to catch his breath Jensen settled his head onto the warm skin between Jeff's neck and the soft cotton of his shirt.
As far as he was concerned they could stay there all night.
This is your favorite kind of day
It has no walls
--Dar Williams, "The Beauty of the Rain"