They’re on set, and it’s been a particularly brutal twelve hour day when the director finally calls ‘cut’.
Jared gives him a look, like he’s asking a question, which Jensen recognizes as Jared wanting to go get something to eat. Jensen tilts his head, twists his mouth to one side and then nods. He is kind of starving, dinner had been at like 5PM, not to mention that he’s feeling anxious about their scenes today, and, if he’s honest, season four so far has been really killing him, not knowing where he’s going with Dean post-hell, being on the outs with Sam. But the director seems happy with their performance, calling it a wrap.
Jared walks up to him, pulling his phone from his pocket, jaw shifting to the side as he looks at the screen.
“Chad’s been texting me all night,” Jared says, apologetic as he looks at Jensen. “He wants to do dinner together.”
Jensen turns alongside Jared and nods, clapping Jared on the back. “You guys have fun.”
“No way, man, you’re coming with me,” Jared laughs, slinging an arm around Jensen’s shoulder.
“Dude, he hates me for taking his place as your best friend.”
“And as my best friend, it’s your duty to come with me.”
“So since I’m your best friend now… when you have to suffer, I do, too?” Jensen demands, eyeing him sideways.
“Exactly,” Jared nods with a wide grin.
“It’ll be like an hour. And there’s steak.”
Jensen sighs, letting Jared lead him from the set. “Fine. As long as there’s steak.”
At least they don’t have to work tomorrow. He can sleep past noon and do nothing, eat pizza and watch the game later and then sleep some more.
“It’ll be fun,” Jared assures him.
The restaurant isn’t very crowded at this hour, and it does have decent steak going for it. Jensen would rather be sleeping, but it’s rare that Chad gets a chance to be in Vancouver and hang out with Jared, and Jared, for reasons Jensen still can’t get his head around, seems to want to hang out with Chad.
It’s okay though. Jared and Chad can reminisce about their time on Gilmore Girls and House of Wax and living together all night as long as Jensen’s got medium rare steak in front of him.
Jared’s got his foot pushing up against Jensen’s, body leaning in close to Jensen even as he’s talking, and it’s a little distracting, but not really a deal killer, because it’s Jared and he’s used to this; also, medium-rare steak.
“So I saw video of the last con you went to,” Chad is saying, swirling one of his fries in puddle of ketchup, as he eyes Jared.
Jensen pauses with his fork hallway to his mouth, suddenly curious about what Chad’s saying for one of the few times he can remember.
Jared laughs easily, rolling his eyes. “Oh man, which part?”
Chad considers Jared for a moment before he speaks. “Someone asked, ‘is it hard playing brothers on the show when you’re actually lovers in real life?’”
Jared laughs even harder, full throated and heartily, throwing back his head. He’s still grinning when he finally meets Chad’s gaze. “Yeah, that was Misha. You know who Misha is?”
“Yeah, he plays that angel, Castiel,” Chad shrugs. “But shit man, seriously. I wanna know, what’s it like knowing your fandom is so gay for you two that even an actor on the show is asking these questions?”
Jared bites at his lip, tilting his head to the side.
“Confusing,” Jensen says, answering for him.
Chad looks at him long and hard. “Really? Confusing? Have you even watched your show? You guys come across so gay for each other that it’s ridiculous. You’re confused? Jesus. You two need an intervention.”
Jensen’s struck speechless for a moment.
“It not like that,” Jensen starts in, indignation filling him.
“Jensen.” Jared’s voice is soft, like a gentle way of saying ‘don’t’. Jensen cranes his neck to look at Jared, confused.
“It’s okay,” Jared says in that same soothing voice, and Jensen is extremely confused. He’s even more confused a moment later when Jared reaches underneath the table, grabbing Jensen’s right hand and pulling it up onto the table, and Jensen has just a split second to look at him in shock before Jared laces his fingers through Jensen’s and gives Jensen a wide, blinding grin.
“It’s okay,” Jared says, grin edging into just the tiniest bit of a smirk. “We should probably stop hiding it.”
Wait. What the fuck? Jensen’s brain spins for a long moment, trying to process that. He has absolutely no idea what’s happening here, and Jared probably sees the helpless look on his face, because he winks at Jensen on the side of his face Chad can’t see, head inclining toward Chad’s. Jensen glances out of the corner of his eye, sees the surprise on Chad’s face, and suddenly gets it. This is a prank. They’re fucking with Chad, and this is something Jensen highly approves of.
“Oh,” Jensen says, fingers closing awkwardly around Jared’s. “Right.”
Making Chad uncomfortable is pretty high on his list of priorities, given how uncomfortable Chad usually makes him—he really doesn’t need to know as much about Chad’s dick as he actually does. So if he can get even a little payback, it’s worth it, and Jared is obviously willing to go there, and it’s just a bit more of acting they have to pull off.
“It really shows that much?” Jared asks, looking at Chad, his voice low and husky, and he’s playing up the shit out of this role. Jensen watches in admiration, the feel of Jared’s fingers flexing against the palm of his hand an incredibly authentic touch.
“Jesus,” Chad shakes his head, chewing down the last of his French fry. “I was... well, I wasn’t exaggerating, but still… really?”
Chad’s so fucking thrown that Jensen can barely hold back a laugh. And yeah, he can do this; turns his face against Jared’s jaw to hide his low laugh, lips brushing against the slightest bit of stubble there, sensation like static electricity. It doesn’t feel as easy, as much like acting as it should. Jensen can feel the bristle of stubble against the softness of his lips, and he’d wonder how many times per day Jared has to shave to keep his face smooth for the show, except he knows it’s twice. That’s firsthand knowledge.
Jensen wonders how many people know these things about each other. Probably most married couples do, which really isn’t very reassuring, given the situation. But the look Chad gives them is worth a thousand pictures.
“So you two… really?” Chad has stopped shoving French fries into his mouth, has stopped eating altogether.
Jared lifts a shoulder, giving Jensen an affectionate glance before he looks back at Chad. “We just really work. I mean, that vibe you see on the show?” Jared looks back to Jensen with a slow grin. “That’s how it is.”
Jared is an evil, evil bastard and Jensen couldn’t possibly love him more than he does right now, because oh, God, the expression on Chad’s face.
Jared’s other hand moves, settling high across Jensen’s thigh, and Jensen has a split second to think Jared really shouldn’t be touching him like this. This is below the board of teasing Chad, because Chad can’t even see it. But… this is kind of like what they do on set during scenes when they’re having a tough time getting the scene right. Those slight touches, the squeezing, gentle pressure, just outside where the audience can see them that guide them, help push them into character.
Jensen has to get into character for this, that’s what Jared’s fingertips squeezing against his inner thigh are telling him, and he’s totally ignoring anything else they might be telling him, because Jared is always inappropriate with his touching, and that’s just how things are. How they’ve always been. Jared does this shit on set all the time, and it’s totally normal.
Chad abandons all attempts at eating the rest of his fries, settling back in the booth and folding his arms across his chest, eyeing both of them with a narrow, suspicious gaze. “So if that’s true… then kiss him.”
Jensen feels his heart stutter, fumbling for some kind of smart-assed reply, because, fuck, they’re not taking it that far.
Beside him, Jared grins and says, “Okay.”
Wait—what? Jensen didn’t sign up for this, but Jared’s looking at him with the most adorable, dirtiest, inviting smirk. Jensen needs to roll with the punches. And if it makes Chad flee in horror then that’s the best.
Okay. Kissing. He’s going to kiss Jared. Fuck, he’s going to kiss Jared.
He feels his chest tighten a little in panic, but he tries to think of it like when a script calls for him to kiss someone—it doesn’t matter if it’s his best friend. It’s just kissing for a scene. Jensen’s kissed dozens of people. He knows how to kiss for the camera. He can do this. He’s going to do this.
Jensen leans in, just a little, jaw angling up toward Jared’s, and he’s expecting Chad to tell them to stop, or for Jared to pull back saying, “Whoa, okay. Kidding.”
Because really, how much further can they take this? Jared’s so close to him, mouth on the verge of Jensen’s, and Jared doesn’t pull away, his eyes fixed on Jensen’s as he closes the space between them.
Jensen isn’t going to back out now, because if Jared isn’t, then he isn’t either.
Jared’s mouth meets his, warm and sweet and slow, lips kissing at his insistently, hand rising from Jensen’s thigh to caress Jensen’s jaw, thumbing beneath where their mouths meet.
This is just for fun—for FUN—Jensen thinks desperately, mouth opening for Jared, tongue sliding to meet Jared’s halfway, both of them slowly circling, and this is acting, just acting.
And then he feels the way Jared kisses him back; fingertips pressing into his cheek, pulling him in deeper with a humming sound, and Jensen can’t stop the way he moans, feels Jared shiver and shake, feels the way Jared eagerly eats the sound with a quick gasp of breath, and Jesus fucking Christ, Jensen has kissed a lot of people in his time as an actor and it’s never been like this—not once, not ever. This is like real kissing and Jensen feels kind of dizzy, the way Jared’s tongue is circling his—and what is even—
“Oh my God. STOP,” Chad chokes. “I’m trying to eat here,” Chad finishes off the proclamation with gagging noises.
“I don’t know,” Jared says as he pulls back, teeth nipping at Jensen’s lower lip, never looking away from Jensen. His eyes are warm, amused, darkened with something Jensen is sure must be acting except for the way it hits him in the gut, rushes through his veins like lightning. “Maybe you need a little more convincing.”
This is way above and beyond the call of duty. Chad might not be running away, but he’s definitely been traumatized, and Jensen doesn’t understand exactly what’s happening as Jared kisses him on his jaw, then lower, teeth scraping the line of his pulse, tongue flickering after, and THIS IS JARED. What is even… what the actual fuck is happening here?
This is supposed to be acting, like they do on set all the time, except it doesn’t feel like that and Jensen isn’t gay at all, and Jared is his best friend, and even still, he can’t help the sound he makes when Jared trails his tongue down the length of Jensen’s throat to the point of his collarbone.
Maybe some sensations are universal no matter how heterosexual you are?
Jared nips at the line of his collarbone, and Jensen is suddenly sure he’s had too much to drink and that some sensations really are universal, because for fuck’s sake, he’s hard, and Jared’s teeth feel way better than they should against his skin.
“Okay,” Jensen manages to gasp, hand rising to push Jared away, mind clinging to the one thing that might restore his sanity. “We’re in public.”
Jared goes with the push of his hand, but the grin he gives Jensen when he pulls back…
Well, it’s so fucking sexy and satisfied that Jensen can’t really process that, nope, thanks for playing.
“I’m so convinced I think I’m gonna be sick,” Chad says, and Jensen blinks, remembering he exists.
“You asked for it, bro,” Jared says, looking at him with an easy shrug. “Suck it like Jensen told me to last night.”
“Oh God,” Chad groans, putting his hands to face. “Stop it.”
Jensen goes back to just blinking, mind completely blank for a merciful instant before the image of Jared sucking his dick actually takes hold.
He should really be rolling with this whole thing a lot better given how on the same page he and Jared usually are, but he suddenly can’t think beyond the image of Jared’s lips wrapped around his dick and God, what is wrong with him. He shoves the image aside and leans into Jared’s shoulder against his, summoning up all his acting ability and grinning as he looks to Chad.
“So…” Jensen says, “I shouldn’t tell you what an amazing job he did?”
He can feel the look Jared’s giving him, cuts his eyes toward Jared, sees the way the corner of Jared’s mouth quirks in a smile.
“I don’t need to know the details,” Chad says, holding up his hands.
There’s a lot Jensen could say to that about how Chad goes on constantly about his conquests in detail no one should ever have to hear, but he lets it go, because Chad is pulling out his wallet to pay the bill. He’s cutting out on dinner. So ready to run he’s going to pay for it.
And as thrilled as Jensen is, they should probably let Chad in on the joke now. Jensen gives Jared an inquiring look, silently saying so.
Jared nods at him slightly, and then looks at Chad. “Chad, we were kidding, man. Just fucking with you.”
Chad sets the cash down, pushing it to the edge of the table before he looks at Jared, eyes fixing on him. “Whatever, man. I’ve seen porn films less convincing. Lots of them. All of them, actually. And if you two ever decide to go into porn, call me, because I know a guy,” he adds, getting up from the table and straightening his shirt.
Jensen looks helplessly at Jared, who shrugs in return, and they both simultaneously turn their faces to look at Chad, expressions blank and clueless, and Jensen doesn’t have to see it to know Jared’s mirroring him—they’ve done it on set a thousand times. The Sam and Dean head swivel in perfect unison that happens because yeah, that’s where they both are.
Chad shakes his head at them like they’re hopeless. “Jesus. Get a room already,” he mutters and then turns, walking off.
Jared breaks down in laughter the moment Chad’s body hits the door, and then Jensen’s right behind Jared, and they’re leaning across the table against each other while they snort and try to breathe.
“I think we convinced him,” Jared rasps out when he can manage it.
“You think?” Jensen asks, trying to get his laughter under control.
This is good, they’re laughing, moving past it, and it really was all about Chad. When he wakes up in the morning that’s what he’s going to remember. They’re all good; as good as they ever were.
It really was just acting.
“You wanna finish dinner?” Jared asks, and Jensen shakes his head.
“Nah. I’m full on steak and revenge. How about you?”
“I’m good,” Jared grins. “You want another drink?”
They both have another drink, then three, then five, laughing and talking about football and the quality of steak in Texas, and Jesus, Jensen’s more drunk than he’s been in ages, and Jared—Jared is epically drunk.
Jensen’s mouth opens, words spilling out without anything like consideration. “That… everything… earlier. We’re good right?”
Jared tilts his head, looking at Jensen. “I thought we were. Aren’t we?”
“No. We’re great,” Jensen shakes his head emphatically. “It was just acting.”
The tip of Jared’s tongue pushes out between his lips, slowly pulling back inside. “Of course.”
“It’s just… I mean, you’re my best friend. It’s not like I’d ever wanna have sex with you.” Because seriously. This gigantic, floppy-haired man next to him? Jensen loves him but if he was gonna go gay for someone, it would be Brad Pitt, maybe Daniel Craig, not that he’s thought about it. Much.
“What? I’m not good enough for you?” Jared asks with a lopsided grin.
“You’re a guy,” Jensen iterates.
“I know. But you know I could totally get you to have sex with me, right?” Jared’s lopsided grin turns into a full-blown smile.
And as much as Jensen meant what he said, Jared’s reaction is so completely charming that it catches Jensen off-guard. “But… I’m not gay.”
“Everyone’s a little bit gay for me,” Jared assures him with a wink.
“You arrogant asshole,” Jensen remarks in drunken wonder, because seriously.
“Facts don’t constitute arrogance,” Jared says, grinning.
“Well, I’m not,” Jensen counters. “Gay for you,” he clarifies.
“I bet you five hundred bucks I could get you to have sex with me.”
Jensen squints at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“I’m always serious when it comes to bets,” Jared nods. The look he gives Jensen is so level, and almost sober, as completely sincere as Jensen’s ever seen him. But he is drunk—they both are.
“Really?” Jensen asks, licking his lips, grinning dryly. “So tonight, then?”
Jared bites at his lower lip and it’s almost too cute, his eyes lingering on Jensen’s mouth for a long moment before he looks up. “No.”
Jensen blinks at him, and there’s at least one and a half Jared’s looking back at him. Pretty soon he’s going to have to cover one eye to see straight.
“Really?” Jensen asks, arching his brows at Jared. “So how long, then?”
Jared lifts his shoulders, tilting his head to the side, shrugging as he grins. “Maybe a couple weeks, maybe a couple of months.”
His co-star and best friend, it would be ridiculous if it weren’t so adorable. How Jared makes even the most impossible things sound possible, Jensen is never going to understand.
“Whatever, dude,” Jensen shrugs back, picking up his beer with one hand and pushing out his other to shake Jared’s hand. “You’re on,” he says, and takes a drink.
Jared raises his brows at Jensen, looks down at his hand and takes it, squeezing lightly and holding Jensen’s eyes before he lets go, chuckling. “Are you even gonna remember this tomorrow?”
They’ll be lucky if either of them remember this tomorrow. They’re drunk as fuck, and these are the things that happen between people who are too drunk and unable to pass up a bet.
“I’m putting it in my reminders right now,” Jensen answers, pulling his phone from his pocket and beginning to type. They’ll laugh about it tomorrow, and Jensen will tease Jared endlessly about how he even put in a reminder about this conversation Jared’s going to have no recollection of.
Jared is silent for a moment as Jensen types, and then nods. “I’ll call Clif, get him to take us back to my house.”
When Jensen wakes, it’s to the sharp beeping of his phone.
“Jesus fucking Christ what?” he demands, sliding his thumb across the screen without opening his eyes. When that doesn’t work, he finally opens his eyes to sunlight slanting in across him in… Jared’s living room? Yes, okay, this is Jared’s living room. That’s good. But what the fuck is he doing here?
The throbbing of his headache douses his curiosity, but his reminder is still going off, and why the fuck would he have set something like this before noon? Was he trying to torture himself?
He finally manages to coordinate his hands and his eyes long enough to open the reminder.
The words are too tiny and too bright, and he has to squint against the pain they cause.
jARED bet me mooonuiy hee could get me too slkeeep with hmi
Jensen stares at the reminder blankly for a long few moments, uncomprehending. At least half of it is the text itself, the other half is the hangover thudding behind his eyes in time with his heartbeat. His vision is fading in and out in time with the rhythm, and he hangs on for the ride, blinking against the glare of his phone screen.
Jared bet him money he could get Jensen to sleep with him? Is that really what his phone screen is telling him?
“You’re drunk, phone,” he mutters, closing his eyes against the pain the backlight and words send spiraling through his brain. He rolls over on his stomach, tossing his phone onto the carpet beside the couch, burying his face in the couch pillow.
When consciousness intrudes again, it happens to the smell of bacon and eggs, the urgent, wet push of a dog nose against his face.
“Hey Sadie,” he murmurs without opening his eyes, reaching out, scratching up underneath her jaw line. He knows instinctively that that he must be at Jared’s house and this is Sadie, because she’s the only dog he knows who pushes her muzzle against him, licks across his nose like she’s grateful that he’s here.
He falls back asleep, his fingers stilling beneath her chin, and when he wakes again, Sadie is lying across his upper thighs, curled in a ball, and Jared is pushing a plate underneath his nose.
“Rise and shine,” Jared says, grinning as he pushes a fork into Jensen’s hand.
“Fuck, I hate you,” Jensen mutters, hand closing around the plate as he turns, sitting up on the couch and snatching the fork from Jared’s hand. Sadie jumps down, and Jensen feels slightly bad for her, but not as bad as he feels for himself.
“No you don’t,” Jared smiles wide and broad, and fuck, Jensen isn’t prepared for this kind of blinding display of teeth.
Jensen digs his fork into his eggs and takes a bite, sending Jared a murderous glance with every movement of his jaw.
“It’s good,” Jared says, his smile not faltering a bit. “Admit it, you grumpy asshole.”
Jensen laughs in the middle of swallowing, trying not to choke.
“It’s good,” he admits when he can.
It’s late in the afternoon and they’ve been watching bad movies all day Jensen curled up on one end of Jared’s couch, Jared sitting on the other end. It’s almost dark when Jensen finally picks up his phone again to check his messages. The last thing he’d pulled up is still there.
jARED bet me mooonuiy hee could get me too slkeeep with hmi
He stares at his screen for a long time before he swallows hard.
That couldn’t have actually happened. His spelling alone means they were clearly drunk. He’s not even going to ask Jared about it. And Jared isn’t saying anything about it, so they’re okay.
“You want a beer?” Jared asks, thigh nudging against Jensen’s as he changes the channel to the game.
“God yes,” Jensen breathes. A beer would be perfect.
Jared gets up, pads to the kitchen in his bare feet, thin sweatpants clinging to him in ways sweatpants really shouldn’t. The same way they’ve always clung to him, and why is Jensen even noticing? Well, noticing again? Jared’s been built bigger than ever this year, but it’s not like this is news.
Jensen turns his full attention on the game playing out on the gigantic TV screen. It isn’t long before Jared returns, two beer bottles held between the fingers of one hand.
“Here’s your beer, you lazy motherfucker,” Jared says and grins as he shoves in next to Jensen on the couch, pushing the bottle into Jensen’s hand.
“You’re too good to me,” Jensen grins back, taking a sip, stretching his feet out across the coffee table.
“I really am,” Jared nods, still smiling as he settles in, shoulder pushing up against Jensen’s.
They watch the game, shouting and cheering until the end, which doesn’t end as well as either of them had hoped.
Jared hits the power button on the remote, turning everything off, and Jensen can barely believe it’s almost 11PM. He’s tired, and they have an early call tomorrow, and he expects Jared to say something into the silence after the TV shutting off, but Jared just sits there for a long moment, leaning his elbows forward against his knees. Jared sets the remote down on the coffee table, and Jensen feels like he should say something—anything really, into the lengthening silence between them, but Jared beats him to it.
“You do know I wasn’t kidding last night,” Jared says.
Oh God. Wait, what? Jensen turns Jared’s words over for a long moment before he asks, cautiously, “Kidding about what?”
“We made a bet,” Jared says, like that says it all. “I just feel like I should warn you. You’re doomed, you know that right?” Jared looks over at Jensen, favoring Jensen with one of his most charming grins.
Shit. Jensen’s phone wasn’t drunk. Jared does remember. He remembers. And… he wasn’t kidding? Of course he was kidding, because they’re best friends. Jared’s just fucking with him because they made a bet, and clearly Jared’s never backed on a bet and is mentally deranged.
“We were really drunk,” Jensen offers.
“Never made a bet I didn’t collect on.” Jared’s still giving him that smug smile, the fucking adorable shithead.
“Well there’s always a first time,” Jensen says, smiling back.
“Then I guess we’ll see,” Jared says, like he isn’t affected by Jensen’s words in the slightest.
Jensen’s just about to respond with something appropriately sarcastic when Jared says, “Night, Jensen,” getting up from the couch.
“You are kidding about this,” Jensen says, less sure than he wishes he was.
Jared just throws him a smirk over one shoulder before he pads off to bed.
God, Jensen is so fucked. He’s never going to hear the end of this.
He sleeps a second night on Jared’s couch, awakened by Jared himself before the sun is even up.
“Clif’s gonna be here in twenty, princess. You might wanna be ready.”
“Screw you.” Jensen pushes a hand against one of Jared’s shoulders, shoving him away before he sits up.
Jared goes away with a laugh, because they both twenty minutes isn’t nearly long enough, but fuck it, it’ll have to be enough today.
They do their first scene as the sun breaks the horizon, sitting across from each other as Sam and Dean, Dean unhappy and disappointed in Sam, and fuck he hates it when they fight. It’s so hard to work up any kind of negative emotion toward Sam, because Sam is Jared, and Jensen can hardly imagine a situation where he’d ever be disappointed in Jared. Jensen would give what Sam’s saying a shot, but Dean isn’t Jensen.
It doesn’t end well, and Jensen walks away from the scene feeling ragged.
“You okay?” Jared asks, walking up behind him, hand falling on his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Jensen nods. “This season is just tough.”
“Yeah, it is,” Jared agrees.
The next scene he shoots with Jared is a funny one, and he and Jared both hit all the right notes right out of the gate, knock it out of the park. There’s trouble with the lighting though, and they have to do it a second time, and by the time they’re done, it’s time to break for lunch.
He exits the filming area, glancing up briefly as he notes green leaves, white berries nestled among them. He doesn’t think too much of it until he passes down one of the hallways backstage, sees another cluster of leaves and berries, and frowns. When he gets to the catering area, he sees another adornment of leaves and berries dangling from the ceiling and wonders what the hell is going on.
Is this a prank? Someone hanging mistletoe all over the sets and backstage? And isn’t it a little early for Christmas decorations? They don’t even break for Thanksgiving for a few more days.
Jensen frowns in thought for a moment and then shrugs, carefully avoiding the mistletoe on his way to get food. Misha is in line behind him, and he really likes Misha a lot, but he isn’t really prepared to deal with him today.
“So what’s up with all the mistletoe?” Misha asks with a frown.
“No idea,” Jensen shrugs. “I figured you for that kind of shit actually.”
Misha laughs, tilting his head back. “Please. This is clearly the work of an amateur. If I were doing this? Mistletoe wouldn’t be a motivator. We’d all be making out all the time.”
Right. That makes more sense than Jensen wishes it did. So… not Misha, then.
Misha claps him on the shoulder and grins at him, and then heads off to sit down.
Jensen’s not really done figuring out what he wants from the table, still contemplating Misha’s lack of involvement with the mistletoe, debating between beef au jus and turkey sandwiches.
Jared joins him a moment later, and Jensen eyes the ceiling skeptically before he finally decides on beef au jus and puts more food on his plate.
“Did you notice all the mistletoe everywhere? What’s up with that?”
“Yeah,” Jared nods as he piles several beef au jus sandwiches on his plate. “All part of the master plan,” Jared says and winks at him.
Wait. Back up and punt. Is Jared saying… “You did this?”
“Well,” Jared says, like anything about this is logical, “if I’m gonna get you to sleep with me, I figure I’ve at least got to get you to kiss me again first. A real kiss, this time.”
Jensen blinks at Jared a few times, and Jared’s wearing that damnable little smirk again, and he is so screwing with Jensen’s head.
“Wow, you’re really taking this to the next level, aren’t you?” Jensen asks, smirking back as he goes back to filling up his plate. “So what’d you tell the crew?”
“That it was all part of my master plan to get you to sleep with me,” Jared grins. “They think it’s all a prank.”
“Of course they do,” Jensen chuckles, playing along. And why shouldn’t they, because it is. Jared’s going to try and corner him under the mistletoe, try and kiss him, and it’ll all be a big laugh for the rest of the cast and crew.
They eat with a couple of the crew members, who are having way too much fun joking about Jared’s prank, and by the end, they’re all laughing, so Jensen figures that’s all good. A prank is a prank, and Jensen’s a good sport.
He’s also not going to give Jared the satisfaction of catching him underneath the mistletoe, because there’s laughing along, and then there’s winning.
But… while Jensen’s waiting alone in his trailer for the next scene to begin, he can’t help but wonder what Jared meant by “a real kiss, this time”. Was the way he kissed Jensen in the restaurant a “fake” kiss? Is that how Jared kisses actresses in scenes? Because it sure didn’t feel like acting to Jensen—it was enough to leave Jensen breathless and hard.
What would a “real” kiss be like? He tries to imagine it… would Jared be more forceful, grip him tighter, nip at Jensen’s lower lip and purr, kiss Jensen so deep and thorough that Jensen would go beyond dizzy into boneless, pulling at Jared to get more of him against Jensen—
The sharp rap of a knock comes at his door, startling from his thoughts and he sits up, feeling his face flush.
“Jensen?” Tracy says, peeking her head in, “they’re ready for you.”
“Thanks,” Jensen nods. He rises after the door shuts again, adjusting the crotch of his jeans ever so slightly, cheeks still warm.
Jesus, where was his mind?
Apparently wherever his mind went, it decided it liked it there and set up camp for an extended stay, because every single time he looks at Sam, all he can see is Jared and Jared’s mouth that kissed him the other night speaking words back at him.
Okay, just breathe. He can do this, this is what he does. He digs his heels in and focuses, and he fucks it up a couple of times, but he gets it right by the end of the scene.
“You okay?” Jared asks him afterward, fingers closing around his shoulder.
Warm fingers, so consoling, squeezing gently, making sure he’s alright, and Jared always does this whenever Jensen has a rough time, checks on him to the detriment of anything that’s happening—even when they need Jared on set, like now.
And Jensen’s okay, really he is. It’s just that he hates it when they fight—that and the shapes Jared’s mouth makes when he’s talking to Jensen.
“I’m fine,” Jensen says, shaking his head. “Go, they need you for the next scene.”
Jared’s fingers squeeze deeper into Jensen’s shoulder, holding for a moment before he lets go. “See you after.”
“Yeah,” Jensen nods without turning.
He’s okay. He’s really okay. It’s just… this season is tough. Dean and Sam are on opposite sides like they’ve never been before, and Jensen doesn’t like it, but that’s just the characterization. It doesn’t mean anything between him and Jared.
Jared’s next scene turns out to be a sex scene with Genevieve, and Jensen stands on the sidelines, watching. Jared’s mentioned Genevieve to him before, how cute and sexy she is, but seeing them like they are now… Jesus, Jared’s hand is almost as big as her head, and he’s moving her everywhere he wants her, so uninhibited. Jared’s just playing for the camera, like he did for Chad’s benefit the other night. It doesn’t mean any more than that; it’s acting. It’s what they do.
But the way he’s kissing her… with his whole body, not just his mouth…
Is that what a “real” kiss is?
Or is that just Jared faking it for the camera? And if it is… what’s a “real” kiss like, because Jesus fucking Christ. His hands are huge, and all over her, pulling her in, yanking her where he wants her—fuck.
Not that it matters. Jared is heterosexual—if it wasn’t obvious before, it is now. And Jensen is…
Well, he’s at least ninety percent sure he’s heterosexual, anyway.
Fuck. Why did Jared have to kiss him?
“Cut,” calls the director, and Jared gets up from the couch, lifting Genevieve with him, setting her on her feet with a smile, hands still resting on her shoulders.
Jensen bites down against his lower lip, turning his head toward his shoulder, which is lodged firmly against the set wall.
He has no idea he’s underneath the mistletoe until someone takes him by the shoulders.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” Misha whispers, hand against his cheek, turning him into a kiss. And it’s fucking Misha, and Jensen wants to just yank away and groan and make some kind of smartass remark, but Jared’s been making out with Genevieve all day, and he has this stupid, ridiculous need to kiss someone in front of Jared, like it’s going to make them even and he doesn’t even know what’s happening except that this is something he wants.
He reaches up, fingers aligning across Misha’s jawline, pulling him in, tongue pushing against Misha’s, circling slowly. Misha makes a surprised and then pleased noise into his mouth, pulling Jensen in, kissing him deeper, licking against the ridges on the roof of Jensen’s mouth.
“Jensen,” Misha whispers as he pulls back, lips still wet, blue eyes wide.
“What?” Jensen asks, voice low, eyelids nearly closed as he looks down at Misha, flirting like he’s getting paid to do it, hoping like hell Jared’s seeing every second of this. “You got me fair and square.”
Misha’s mouth pulls in a slow smirk, brows drawing down as he pats Jensen’s cheek. “Please. I would ruin you, and you know it.” Misha’s hand palms his cheek. “Don’t even kid yourself.”
Misha would do things to him he probably can’t even imagine. Misha clearly doesn’t have his limitations, and for a split second, Jensen is almost curious what Misha is capable of.
But it’s Misha, and they’ve got their own dynamic.
“You wish,” Jensen mutters, pushing Misha’s face away.
Misha laughs, one finger poking Jensen in the chest. “You know it’s true,” he grins, patting Jensen’s pecs and copping a bit of a feel before he pulls away. Someone on set calls Misha’s name as if on cue, and Misha gives Jensen one last pat before heading toward the cameras.
Jensen stands there for a few long seconds, wiping at his mouth, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on in his head. He just made out with Misha… to what? Make Jared jealous because he’s been kissing Genevieve all day? Why does he care? What is wrong with him? This whole thing is just Jared trying to fuck with him.
Maybe it’s working.
He’s barely aware of Jared walking up to him until Jared’s right there in his space.
“I see Misha got you,” Jared laughs. And well, it’s not like that’s a surprise to either of them, because Misha.
But still, it only happened because of Jared and his stupid mistletoe, and his stupid making out with Genevieve and it’s all Jared’s stupid fault.
Jared should probably pay for that a little bit.
Jensen pulls in, folding his arms across his chest. “Yeah, we’re meeting back up at his trailer later,” Jensen winks.
Jared’s smile falters momentarily, and then he grins even more broadly. “So one kiss under the mistletoe and you’re hooking up?”
Jensen pretends to consider that for a moment and then shakes his head almost helplessly. “He’s one hell of a kisser. You should--”
“You’re not going to Misha’s trailer,” Jared cuts in, matter of fact, moving closer into Jensen’s space.
Jensen doesn’t give an inch, and shit, he doesn’t have any intention of going to Misha’s trailer, but Jared doesn’t know that, and it only seems fair to give Jared back a little bit of what he’s giving.
“We made plans,” Jensen shrugs like he’s apologizing and fuck he’s beyond the pale here, he has no idea what he’s doing or why, but he can’t seem to stop. “Never made a promise I didn’t--”
Jensen doesn’t finish his sentence, because then Jared’s grabbing him by the jaw, yanking him and tilting his head back, tongue hot as it flickers across his lower lip and then pushes inside, brushing over Jensen’s and then suckling.
Jensen feels every nerve in his body pulse with surprise, the way his veins contract and then rush with blood, heart beating a sudden wild rhythm in his chest.
“Still under the mistletoe,” Jared breathes into him, biting against Jensen’s lower lip before his tongue sweeps inside again, slow, hot, slick tangle around Jensen’s, and Jensen can feel his knees flash hot, suddenly weak as he tilts his head up, hands clutching Jared by the face, kissing back into Jared on pure instinct, knees wobbly but holding as he pushes up off one foot, rising to meet the twist of Jared’s tongue, pulling Jared in to taste more of him.
Their bodies aren’t touching except where they’re kissing, but Jensen can still feel the heat radiating from Jared’s chest, his thighs, so fucking close, electricity like a living thing in the space between.
Jared tilts his head back another fraction and the noise he makes into Jensen’s mouth isn’t human, sheer, pure want poured into Jensen’s mouth, rumbling down into his chest, and Jesus, Jesus fucking Christ--
“Okay, you two can stop now,” someone says, poking Jensen in the side, and it takes Jensen long seconds to register the sound or the touch, the person already telling them to save it for the cameras with a laugh before he finally understands that he’s making out with Jared, right here at the edge of a set. And everyone else thinks they’re pulling a prank.
They both pull apart at the same instant, staring at each other, lips parted and shiny wet, breathing hard. Somewhere, at the edge of Jared, there is a person who’s telling them how this was a good one as they move off, and all Jensen can manage is to nod stupidly, eyes locked on Jared’s.
Jared’s eyes are wide, soft, burning hazel, staring back at Jensen with everything Jensen is feeling, and Jesus, he needs to breathe.
“Jensen!” someone yells from nearby, “We need you in make-up now!”
Make-up. Right. He needs make-up for his next scene, because he’s on set, and he just made out with his best friend who’s still looking at him with more heat and want than he’s seen in maybe ever.
“Okay,” he manages. Has to stop, clear his throat a time or two. “Be right there.”
“That… was a real kiss,” Jared whispers, smiling before he finally turns away.
It takes Jensen a full two minutes to pull himself together enough to even start walking in the direction of the make-up trailer.
He’s half-hard the whole way, and it sucks, but he’s still too stunned to care much.
Jared. That was JARED that made him weak in the knees, that had kissed him like that, looked at him like that, that had made him want.
He resists the urge to bite down against his lower lip where he can still feel the touch of Jared’s mouth, knowing he’ll ruin his make-up if he does, and he knows his face is flushing the whole time the girls are putting make-up on him, but blessedly—miraculously maybe—neither of them says a word.
That wasn’t… this wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be a prank. They both like women. Well, Jensen’s pretty sure Jared only likes women anyway, Jared’s never told him any different.
That kiss. The way Jared had cupped his jaw and held him close the way he’d kissed Jensen like he was reveling in every single taste of him, the sound he’d made…
What is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to deal with wanting his best friend?
No. This is all just a joke. A prank Jared’s playing, and he can’t let himself take it seriously. It was just a kiss. A fucking kiss, and Jensen’s kissed lots of people.
But never like that.
No, Jensen has to agree with the voice in his mind. Never like that.
None of this was ever supposed to be serious. No matter what he thought he saw in the way Jared looked at him, felt in the way Jared kissed him, they’re best friends. And was Jared just the tiniest bit jealous about Jensen acting like he was going to meet up with Misha at his trailer later? Jensen thinks he was.
But maybe he just wants to think that. Most likely he just wants to think that. And why is he even thinking that at all?
The make-up girls pronounce him ready and he needs to get down to the set.
It’s his last scene of the day, and he can get through it.
He manages, somehow, and when he gets back to his trailer--actually relieved that Jared had to head home—he finds himself pulling out his phone and staring at a number he never ever calls, except in times of emergency.
He feels like now qualifies.
He wants Chad to explain why he thought Jensen and Jared weren’t kidding the other night, but as usual, what Chad spews out isn’t really any kind of answer Jensen was looking for.
“Don’t tell me you actually believe that shit, Jensen. If you think you were winding me up? You’re more delusional than your fans.” Chad pauses. “Who are actually way less delusional than I thought, which makes you more delusional than any of them, which is saying something.”
The conversation ends with Chad huffing about what idiots they both are as he hangs up.
Well, that had been less than helpful. Jensen isn’t sure what he expected, really.
The next two days feel like torture, and Jensen blows his lines and cues left and right, which isn’t like him at all. He hasn’t slept well, and when he has he’s mostly dreamed about Jared, like thinking about Jared the whole time he’s awake just isn’t taking up enough of his brain power.
Somehow he’s managed to avoid the mistletoe since the first day—though he had a near miss with Sera yesterday.
Jared claps him on the shoulder a lot and sends him sympathetic looks and encouraging smiles, occasionally asking if he’s all right. Jensen waves it all off to a lack of sleep and Jared seems to take that at face value, although occasionally he catches Jared giving him odd looks when he thinks Jensen isn’t paying attention.
Jensen’s pretty sure he’s slowly losing his mind.
When he finishes his last scene with Jared it’s incredibly late and the director’s call of “cut” means more than for the night. It means for the next month and a half.
That should be okay. They’ll see each other soon enough, but the look in Sam’s eyes in the final scene, the feeling it evokes in Dean’s—Jensen’s heart—is more than Jensen can bear. It’s as if this rift between Sam and Dean is spreading between them, and he can’t… he can’t leave for holiday vacation when things are like this.
They need to put this right. They can’t spend the next month and a half trying to avoid the issue in texts and phone calls. Well, Jensen can’t anyway. They have to talk about this, and Jensen can’t avoid it anymore, no matter how much he wishes he could. He made out with Misha just to try and upset Jared. They have to laugh and get this out of the way. Move past it.
“Hey,” Jensen says as he throws his arms around Jared in what’s supposed to be their goodbye hug. “Can you come by my trailer before you take off?”
Jared tilts his head slightly away from Jensen’s shoulder, and then claps him on the back once, twice. “Of course,” Jared says as he pulls back, smiling at Jensen like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it is. They’re best friends. Why is he even asking Jared for this?
He doesn’t know. Maybe he just needs a private goodbye. Maybe Jensen’s just fucked up to need this kind of closure. Maybe he knew why, back before Jared kissed him under the mistletoe.
Before he couldn’t think about anything else.
“See you in a few minutes,” Jared smiles, clapping him on the back.
Damn him for being so unflappable.
“Yeah,” Jensen nods, forcing out a smile.
It’s twenty minutes before Jared knocks and opens the door to Jensen’s trailer. Jensen pushes pause on the movie he’d been drowsing off to.
“Fight Club?” Jared asks as he steps inside, sending Jensen a knowing grin, and they’ve watched it together enough for Jared to know.
“Yeah,” Jensen says, rising from his chair with a forced smile.
Jared takes in Jensen’s expression, frowning. “You okay?”
And Jensen’s never going to be able to be straightforward about this; never going to be able to say exactly what he means—what it means for Jared to be inside his trailer, where he could be standing at his full height, but still stands with his hands in his jean pockets, shoulders hunched over, smiling at Jensen like the sun emerging from behind the clouds.
He’s never going to be able to say what he means—why did he even ask Jared here?
Jared’s body is tall and gangly, so stupid and perfect inside this tiny space. He’s everything that fills Jensen’s mind, fills his world, so much more than anyone else, and Jared doesn’t have a clue—hell, Jensen didn’t have a clue until just recently.
He wants Jared—wants him in ways he can’t even articulate. And if Jared wants him like that, too…
But he doesn’t know if Jared does. Kiss under the mistletoe aside, they’re best friends who understand each other more than… well, anyone else. But best friends are best friends, and that’s that. Usually. Until they make out, anyway.
Maybe, in another world, they could have been just best friends. The closest, most devoted of friends. But in this world, Jared kissed him. And Jensen has to know.
“Jared... what happened. Us kissing…”
“Which time?” Jared asks, eyes focusing on Jensen as he sits down in the chair near Jensen’s. He doesn’t shy an inch, just asks the question like it’s natural, and Jensen loves him for that. He maybe loves him a lot more than he should. He maybe always has.
“Both times,” Jensen admits, slowly settling back into his own chair. He bites at his lower lip, not able to meet Jared’s eyes. “I know you were just messing with me.”
“No,” Jared’s voice is unsteady, but his tone is sure. “I wasn’t.”
And there it is; all of it, laid out for Jensen to grab hold of. Jared wasn’t messing with him. Jared wants this. Jared wants this just as much as Jensen is beginning to realize he wants it, too.
All these years, everything between them. All the years they’ve played Sam and Dean, co-dependent brothers who can barely move without thinking of each other. Maybe it’s just an extension of that. Maybe that’s why they feel this way about each other.
Jensen swallows hard, nodding once, dredging up the will to speak.
“We’ve been doing this so long… playing Sam and Dean. I don’t want to confuse things.”
Jared is silent for a long moment before he clears his throat, speaks. “You’re not.”
Jensen presses his lips together and nods a few times before he can find the words. “You’re my best friend, and if we… if that gets fucked up…” Jensen shakes his head, daring for a moment to lift his eyes to Jared’s.
“If that gets fucked up, then what, Jensen?” Jared asks him, voice soft, eyes intent on Jensen’s.
“Then I don’t know, man,” Jensen sighs, frustration tightening in a knot in the center of his chest. He can feel it wind tight around the words he’s trying to gather, words he doesn’t have, pulling tighter as he pushes up from the chair and kicks it away, taking a few quick strides across the floor. “That’s the thing,” he says, spinning back around on Jared, hands held open at his side, anger pushing through the knot in his chest, words spilling out in a hot flood. “I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck I’d do not seeing your big, goofy, smiling face every day for the rest of my life.”
Jared stares at him, wordless, but Jensen isn’t done yet, fire in his chest still burning too bright to be silenced.
“I can’t even imagine my life without you in it. And if I screw this up and you go away… what the fuck am I gonna do then, Jared, huh?”
The fire inside him dies all at once in the silence after his words, leaving him weak and spent, too confused and too tired to even try to make sense of all this. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath, words leaving him in a shaky whisper as his eyes flutter shut.
“How am I supposed to live without you?”
“Jensen,” the word leaves Jared’s lips in a whispered rush, and then he’s right there, taking Jensen by the shoulders, pulling him in close, forehead leaning to touch Jensen’s, breathing out slow. “I wouldn’t know how to live without you either. God…” Jensen’s eyes are still closed, but he can hear Jared swallow, the deep swell of air as he fills his lungs. “I’m sorry… I thought…” Jared sighs, and Jensen can feel the warmth of his breath so close. “I didn’t know, man. I didn’t know it would be like this. I didn’t think it would upset you this much.”
The words hit Jensen in the heart like a sucker punch, and it takes him a moment to just breathe, gather himself.
“Then why, Jared?” Jensen demands, eyes opening. “If you didn’t think I’d care, then why did you do this?”
Jared’s eyes are wide hazel, looking at him so much like Sam looks when he’s sad, when he’s so very fucking sorry, like when he wishes he could make everything right, and it tears at Jensen’s heart, makes his heart want to break, and fuck, there is way too much of both of them in their characters, because all Jensen wants to do is protect him from the feeling, to make him happy again.
“It wasn’t that I didn’t think you’d care. I just…” Jared turns his head back and forth briefly.
“What?” Jensen laughs, sound ragged and bitter as it tears from his throat. “You thought we’d make out under the mistletoe and then I’d fuck my best friend and we’d live happily ever after?”
Jared presses his lips together between his teeth, his eyes steady on Jensen’s as one corner of his mouth twitches, tugging, and then settles back into sadness. “Something like that, yeah.”
“That’s what I wanted,” Jared whispers, biting against his own lower lip. “I thought maybe if I came at it from a bet… like a joke… maybe we’d just… tilt over and everything would…” Jared trails off, shaking his head, fingertips squeezing Jensen’s shoulders, “everything would just work.” Jared closes his eyes momentarily as the words work their way through Jensen. “I always thought there’d be that one moment when I kissed you… or you kissed me… and everything would just… be perfect. I mean… everything else always has been. So I…”
Jared takes a deep breath, and then gathers himself, straightening as he pushes away from Jensen. “I’m sorry.”
There’s no denying the honesty in the way Jared’s looking at him, in every expression he’s struggling to hold back, and utterly failing, because Jared’s eyes tell the whole story no matter what else he’s doing. One look at his eyes and Jensen knows exactly what Jared’s thinking, what he’s feeling. He knows Jared inside out, as well as he knows himself, as well as he knows Sam, as he knows Dean. Maybe they’ve been doing this together so long that it’s inevitable.
And maybe that’s why they’re here right now. Maybe that’s why this happened in the first place.
Jared slowly composes himself, hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans. “Ever since me and Sandy split… since you’ve been there, with me every day…” Jared bites off the words with a bitter sound. “I don’t know,” he says, with a shrug. “I just thought it made sense. Especially since you and Danneel decided to take a break.”
“I just…” Jared turns toward him slowly, offering the tiniest hint of a smile. “I hope I didn’t fuck everything up. You’re my best friend, and if you weren’t there… if we fucked this up—if I fucked this up… I’d never be able live with myself. Because I can’t imagine living every day of my life without you in it, either.”
Jensen’s quiet for a long moment, turning that over. It’s more than the fact that Jensen can’t imagine life without Jared; it’s what he’s going to keep imagining. It’s that he can’t let Jared walk away like this. It’s that he can’t let this moment slip away, everything inside him telling him that if he really wants this, he has to do something now. It’s that part of him will never be satisfied, always wondering.
“Say something,” Jared says, lifting his arms.
Jensen swallows hard, feels his heart speed up inside his chest as he closes the space between him and Jared, pulse pounding in his throat, his stomach a bundle of tight nerves. “Think I’m tired of talking,” he whispers, voice rough.
“Jensen,” Jared’s voice is a ragged sound, catching in his throat. “I don’t… I don’t want to screw things up.”
“I don’t know if we can screw things up, Jared,” Jensen’s voice is low, just above a whisper as he stares up into Jared’s eyes. “But I know I need to find out,” he breathes, reaching up, resting one hand against Jared’s cheek. He closes his eyes, chases the warmth of Jared’s breath with his mouth, closing the distance between them, lips meeting Jared’s gently at first.
He feels Jared shudder, exhaling hard, whispering out the words, “Jensen are you sure?” in a wet smear of heat against Jensen’s mouth, and then Jensen slips his tongue between Jared’s lips, curls a hand into the hair at the nape of Jared’s neck and pulls him in, showing Jared how sure he is as their tongues meet. Jensen swirls around Jared’s slow, and then suckles, and the noise Jared makes sends heat rushing through him head to toe.
Jared’s hands stutter, surprised and hesitant as they clasp Jensen’s face, and that’s okay, because Jensen wants to take the lead this time, wants to taste every bit of Jared at his leisure.
He tugs and pulls at Jared, walking Jared backward while he kisses Jared for all he’s worth, moving until he feels Jared’s back hit the trailer wall, and then he stops, pushing up from the balls of his feet, devouring Jared’s mouth with slow insistent licks and bites and swirls of tongue. Traces out the inside shape of Jared’s mouth, tongue flickering over the smooth, slickness of Jared’s inner cheek, breathing Jared in and pushing up against him until he’s all Jensen can smell and taste and feel, Jared filling all his senses until he’s overwhelmed, knees threatening to give out, stomach twisted into knots with need and fear.
This is Jared in his arms, kissing him back, moaning into Jensen’s mouth, pushing his hips until they slot against Jensen’s, arms wrapping around Jensen’s body and holding tight. Jensen feels it like electricity through his veins, buzzing rushing through him until he feels high, skin almost seeming to crackle wherever they touch, delicious edge of raw heat riding his nerve endings from every point where they connect. So different from holding a girl, Jared bigger, taller, so incredibly built and strong, and just the idea that he can turn Jared on like this, make Jared surrender like this, make noises like this, burns through him like wildfire.
He’s as hard as Jared is where Jared’s pushing up against him, and it’s weird again for a split second until Jared rubs and grinds against him, delicious friction sending shivers of pleasure all through Jensen.
“Jensen,” Jared breathes out, breaking off from the kiss, teeth scraping against the point of Jensen’s chin then nipping at Jensen’s lower lip. “Here… let me…”
Jared takes Jensen by the shoulders then and turns him around until his shoulders are settled against the wall, and then Jared kisses him again, deep and wet and messy, tongue swirling out, down along Jensen’s jaw line with little bites and kisses, riding the line of Jensen’s pulse down to his collarbone, and fuck, it feels so good, delicate nerves sending spirals of sensation through him until everything inside him is pure bliss, his head tipping back, letting Jared get at more of his throat—
Jared’s hands slip down his sides, Jared staring up at him through half lidded eyes as he slides to the floor, and Jensen’s still drunk with sensation, brain too slow to understand what Jared’s doing until Jared’s fingers start working at the buckle of Jensen’s belt.
Fuck, Jared’s on his knees in front of Jensen, unzipping his jeans and working them down around Jensen’s hips and Jensen can barely make sense of it. “Jared,” he gasps, thinking he should stop this for so many reasons, and fuck, what are they doing, they’re never going to come back from this.
“Please, Jensen,” Jared begs, voice breathy as he peels Jensen’s boxer briefs away from his rock hard cock. “Been dying to get my mouth on you for so long, thought about it so many times.” Jared’s lips are shiny with saliva from their kissing, dark pink and so close to the head of Jensen’s dick, Jared’s eyes staring up at him through the long strands of his hair, half-lidded and on fire with want.
Jared’s tongue flickers out, tasting just the tip of Jensen’s dick, brushing across the slit and Jensen shivers, shuddering, Jared staring him dead in the eye the whole time. It’s so hot--Jared’s so hot, and this is crazy but Jensen can’t find it in himself to care right now, the way Jared’s looking at him, his lips within centimeters of Jensen’s aching hard cock.
“You’re sure?” Jensen asks, and the corner of Jared’s mouth curves in a smirk just before he parts his lips, tongue unfurling, tip brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves beneath the crown. Jensen’s hips hitch of their own accord and he can feel sound of approval Jared makes just before he wraps his lips around the head of Jensen’s dick and slides down the length, hot mouth devouring Jensen an inch at a time, and Jesus Christ—the image Jensen’s had bouncing around in his head for days now has just become suddenly, shockingly real. Only this is hotter, and fuck, Jensen thinks, biting down on his lower lip hard as Jared sucks, taking Jensen all the way to the base, it feels--
Jensen grunts, hips jolting and head falling backward as Jared pulls back and does something wicked with his tongue, and fuck, all he can do is bury his hands in Jared’s hair, hands twisting the strands between helpless fists as he holds on for dear life. Jesus, this is Jared sucking his cock, wet and messy and hot, and that shouldn’t make it hotter but it does, somehow, excitement and pleasure twisting him into slow knots.
The idea that Jared has been dying to do this, suck him slow with long, hard strokes, tongue curling up the underside of his cock, just like this—
Jensen’s hands clench tighter in Jared’s hair and Jared moans, vibrations sending slivers of pleasure up Jensen’s spine, exploding as they hit his brain.
He isn’t going to last long like this; his best friend on his knees sucking Jensen off like he’s been dying to, can feel the heat coiling and tightening in his belly, his balls. He pulls his head from the wall, lets it tilt down and tries to tell Jared and then stops dead.
Jared’s lips are wet with spit and pre-come, cheeks hollowed around Jensen’s cock, those hazel eyes staring up at Jensen without an ounce of shame or regret, just want and need. Jared twists his head, sucking down the curve of Jensen’s dick and Jensen has to grab him by the hair, yank Jared’s face away from him with trembling fists.
Hot as it might be to come down Jared’s throat, he doesn’t feel ready for that yet, doesn’t feel ready to be done yet.
Jensen gets his hands on Jared’s shoulders, pulls him back up until Jensen can lick and bite at his mouth, faint taste of himself lingering on Jared’s lips. “Bed,” he whispers after a second, because he can think of literally thousands of things he wants to do and almost all of them would be more comfortable on his bed—even if it just a single.
He gets Jared underneath him on the bed, fumbling to undo Jared’s belt buckle and jeans, Jared wriggling his hips until Jensen’s get them down far enough that he can feel Jared’s bare skin against him. He peels Jared’s shirt over his head next, and has to stop.
He’s seen Jared shirtless before dozens of times, on set and off, but he’d never really paid attention… or never really let himself pay attention until now.
Jared is gorgeous, muscles huge and hard, chest and abs perfectly cut, narrowing down to his hips, tiny trail of hair winding down the center to where his cock rises, thick and longer than Jensen would have imagined.
This is Jensen’s best friend, and he’s gorgeous.
Jensen takes his time, kissing down the column of Jared’s throat, tongue tracing the musculature of Jared’s chest, winding Jared up until he’s practically writhing underneath Jensen, hissing, “Tease.”
Jensen lowers his hips against Jared’s then, hisses in a breath as he meets hot, smooth, hard skin, the tip of Jared’s cock leaking and smearing wet along the length of Jensen’s as Jensen thrusts upward with his hips. He’s never done anything quite like this with another guy, but he gets the general idea of friction, and judging by the way Jared shivers, hips lifting to meet him, he’s doing a pretty good job.
“God, Jensen,” Jared breathes out, pulling Jensen into a long, deep kiss. He winds his arms around Jensen’s upper back, palms sliding up underneath Jensen’s shirt, caressing the skin between his shoulder blades. Jensen breathes in deep, gives another ragged thrust of his hips and they both moan together, sharing the sound between their mouths.
Delicious friction working up through Jensen’s stomach, Jared fused against him, locked together in rhythm, arms wrapped around each other, skin beginning to slip and slide with sweat, and there’s nothing about this that feels wrong. It feels pure, right… almost like relief. Like a deep breath Jensen hadn’t realized he was waiting to take.
“So hot, Jensen,” Jared murmurs against his mouth. “God I can’t wait for you to fuck me.”
Jensen moans, hips stuttering at just the thought, teeth sinking into Jared’s lower lip and Jared gives a deep, throaty moan, thrusting up to meet him, cocks rubbing and gliding
“I knew this would be good. Knew we’d work like this,” Jared whispers out hot. “It feels like… the rest,” Jared breathes out and groans as Jensen thrusts against him.
Jared’s right, it does, but Jensen can’t force himself to say anything, emotion and need tangling deep inside him, all of it expressed in one word as he cants his hips and rocks into Jared.
“We fit,” Jared whispers back, pulling Jensen in to kiss him again, and Jensen nods, kissing Jared back, twisting his hips and giving one last shove.
Jared comes with a muffled shout, spilling against Jensen’s stomach with sudden wetness, and Jensen’s cock glides against Jared’s, sudden slickness smoothing the way, the feel of Jared coming underneath him, the way he looks, sweating, cheeks flushed, biting down to hold back his cries of pleasure—
Jensen tips over the edge, shooting hot all over Jared’s belly, his dick, and the mess between them is fantastic, so slick and sticky and glorious, both of them thrusting into the feel of each other, biting against each others mouths, the line of their jaws, their throats, riding out every last shiver of pleasure until they’re quivering with aftershocks, lying there still tangled together, Jensen’s face tucked into the curve of Jared’s neck.
There are still butterflies flitting in the pit of his stomach, but nothing about this could ever be wrong, no matter how new and scary it might seem. It is the rest, the next natural step. And if he and Danneel hadn’t decided to take a break, if Jared and Sandy hadn’t broken up, in another time, another place, they might never have had the chance to find out.
Thoughts drifting, he thinks this might be exactly what Sam and Dean need to do—catches himself thinking it and has to bite down against a smirk.
Jensen stays there, waiting until his breathing evens out, Jared’s hands tracing idle patterns against the skin of his back until finally he claps Jensen on the shoulder once, telling him he’s too damned heavy to lie on top of Jared all night.
Jensen grins and slides off Jared, pressing up alongside him, and it’s still new enough to feel a little bit weird, but feeling all the bare skin of Jared’s body against him distracts him from thinking about it too much. He feels so good and firm and warm and right. Jared slings a lazy arm around him, pulling him in close.
“So we’re good then?” Jared asks after a moment.
“Perfect,” Jensen nods, content. And things might be a bit weird for a while, might take some getting used to, but he’s sure they’re going to be as good at this as anything else they’ve ever done.
“You owe me five hundred bucks,” Jared grins.
“You ought to be paying me,” Jensen laughs, shoving at him.
“We can spend the holidays together as much as possible, with both our families,” Jared says after a few minutes.
“Are you going to tell them?” Jensen asks, struck by the sudden thought that they’re going to have to tell their families.
“Let’s just say I don’t think they’ll be shocked,” Jared smirks.
Jensen’s pretty sure his family will be, but he’s also sure that they love him enough that it won’t change anything. Besides, they adore Jared.
Jensen nods, forehead brushing against Jared’s shoulder. “Then I only have one more question.”
“What’s that?” Jared asks, pulling head back far enough that he can crane his neck to regard Jensen seriously.
Jensen lets the silence draw out between them for a moment, meeting Jared’s intent gaze.
“Where the hell did you even get mistletoe this early?” Jensen asks with a wondering grin.
Jared throws back his head and laughs, and Jensen kisses the bared skin of his throat.