|Sometimes you get fulgurites (luzdeestrellas) wrote,|
@ 2008-06-25 15:03:00
Fic, To Be Continued (Jensen/Jared, PG)
I have watched some of the Australian vids, and it became clear to me last night that Jared Padalecki has half the awesome in the universe. Sorry, universe, but you can't have it back. It's only half because Jensen has the other half. Trufax.
Clearly, this means they must be together, and so, I have written fic. Also, this is the result of the first deal that backfired with angelgazing. You'd think I'd stop making them.
To Be Continued
Jared/Jensen, 1,712 words, "That's the difference between you and me. You are a man of words. And I, my friend, am a man of actions."
For Nichole, I suppose. Thanks to merryish for the beta and the title.
To Be Continued
They wrap season four just after three on a Wednesday morning, right as the rain starts again, fat drops that slide down Jared's neck and make him shiver. Dean says, "Guess we'll find out then," and Sam keeps the gun pointed right at him, thirty seconds where Jared doesn't move, doesn't even blink, that feel like an eternity, and then Kim's saying, "Fuckin' nailed it, boys," and that's that.
There's some hugging and high-fiving, and then everyone's just trying to get out of the rain, looking to get back home before dawn. Jim flips them off, says, "See you next year," like that’s certain. The other guest stars are already being ushered towards cars or trailers or makeup. Jared's got a trailer of his own twenty feet away, and a house within easy driving distance. More importantly, he's got the promise of the kind of long, awesome sleep he hasn’t had in days. He stands where he is, reluctant to go and feeling stupid about it, and not much able to help it.
Jensen bumps their shoulders together, and says, "Pretty good scene. You almost measured up to me there." He's got one eye still made up to look bruised and swollen, and fake blood smeared across his jaw, and he's grinning like he's got the world on a string, like he could pull it into the palm of his hand the second he wants. It makes Jared uneasy, a little giddy.
"I'm so far above you by now, I'm starting to get altitude sickness," Jared says, natural, like this is every other day.
Jensen laughs, warm and bright in the rain. "I think that was the shrimp. They looked kinda funny to me." He gets a hand against Jared's shoulder to nudge him forward, and he lets it linger there, even when Jared starts walking. "We're gonna get cleaned up, and then I'm gonna drink your beer and monopolize your TV." When Jared looks back, Jensen's still smiling. It's the smile Jared always works for, the one that always hits him like caffeine when he gets it. Right now, it's just wrong.
"What's with you?" he asks. Because the thing is, Jared remembers the end of season two, when nobody knew if they'd get another shot, and Jensen had been a mess of jittery nerves and never sleeping, tension vibrating out of him so hard it made Jared's teeth ache. That was before Canada wormed its way in and started to feel like home, before Jared bought a house and Jensen practically moved in. Jared really does feel a little sick when he thinks about not coming back to all of this, and Jensen's been as freaked out as Jared--or at least, Jared's pretty sure he has been.
Jensen shrugs, a row of freckles appearing and disappearing through the rip in Dean's shirt. "At least a whole two months without you, Padalecki. It's like a fucking miracle."
Jared looks away. He preferred Jensen when he was on the verge of nervous collapse. This smug, happy version is making it sort of difficult for Jared to angst sufficiently over where they'll be next year and who they'll be with, and if he'll have to sell his house and ship all his furniture back to Texas, and whether it'll be six months before he sees Jensen again--by which time Jensen will probably have shaved all his hair off and grown a beard, or something, and Jared won't even recognize him. "Bite me," he says, in lieu of all that. It's not nearly as satisfying.
Jensen snorts and drops his hand, falling into step beside Jared. "Really, do you sit around writing these comebacks down? Is there a special Jared notebook just for them? Honestly, I think there should be."
"Bite me," Jared says again, because it's expected, and because he really can't think of anything better. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth when Jensen laughs, and he ignores it; he kicks his way through a puddle, sending water in Jensen's direction, and he feels a little better when Jensen gives him shit for it.
"See if I let you beat me at Halo now," Jensen says. Jared sticks his hands in his pockets, and Jensen hums, quiet, under his breath. Jared doesn't recognize the song, but it makes him feel a little better, too, just the same. And if he's honest, that's maybe exactly why he's freaking out.
He keeps his hands in his pockets, wrapped around his cell and a pack of gum, and doesn't reach for Jensen. He says, "Like you've ever had a choice in the matter."
Jensen pats him on the head, as if he's a kid, regardless that he has to reach up to do it. "That's the difference between you and me. You are a man of words. And I, my friend, am a man of actions."
He disappears inside his trailer, and five minutes later, with considerably less makeup and clothes that are actually theirs, they're leaving the set behind, being driven down a long stretch of winding road that's gonna take Jared home. Jensen sprawls out, head resting against the window and one leg up on the seat. He closes his eyes, mumbles something about napping and stupid hours.
Jared reaches across and punches him in the ribs. "You should pay attention," he says. When Jensen looks at him, he spreads his hands. "These, Jensen, are, you know, the moments." Jensen just raises his eyebrows, but Jared keeps talking. "The moments and the things we should be remembering."
"The moments and the things?" Jensen asks. "The moments and the things in this car?"
"It's a very fucking nice car," Jared says. "And that--that sign over there, is a very nice sign."
Jensen's mouth twitches, and he clearly thinks it's so self-evident that Jared's lost his mind that he doesn't even bother pointing it out. He keeps his eyes open, though, and they sit in silence as the car picks up speed. There's a stretch of trees for a while, and then an industrial complex, and then some more trees.
"This sucks," Jared says. He's maybe pouting, but Jensen's too busy pretending to look at scenery to notice.
Only maybe not, because he nudges Jared's hip with his knee. "In better light, and, you know, with less rain, I'm sure it would be very memorable."
"Shut up," Jared says. He glances over. In the darkness, it's mostly only angles and suggestions of Jensen he can see--the side of his jaw and the curve of his cheekbone--an easy geometry he knows by heart. He's the only person who's ever made Jared feel small, like the world's full of possibilities he might not reach, might get lost in if he did. He thinks losing the possibility of him might be worse, now, and it makes his chest tight. "Aren't you--" Jensen's watching him, like it's important, and Jared fidgets. "The networks' in trouble," he says. "And aren't you even--you're not a little freaked out?"
Jensen hums deep in his throat, as if he's really thinking about it. "Nope. Not even a little."
Jared swallows and looks for something to say that isn't stupid and babbly and full of things he won't be able to take back later, but Jensen sighs, like he's many kinds of put upon. "Dumbass," he says, low and affectionate and amused. He pushes himself up and slides closer to Jared, curls a hand in Jared's T-shirt. "For one," he says, "We'd find something else." Jensen's chest is pressed against Jared's arm, and when Jared turns towards him, Jensen moves in closer. He moves in with intent, like Jared's a line he's just figured out, like he's about to knock his scene out of the park. The watch Jared gave him says 3:45, could say 25:92 for all it has meaning to Jared, and Jared's forgotten how to breathe. "Even you could probably get a job doing something. For two, the network's been in trouble since I started working for them. Ten years ago, I think that was." Jared laughs, a little, and Jensen reaches out, touches a thumb to the corner of Jared's mouth. "And for three. You are a dumbass."
"You said that already," Jared says. It comes out kind of fast, kind of loud in the quiet.
"Yeah, I did. And that's 'cause you are." Jared gets one more look at Jensen's smile before it's pressed against his mouth, and Jensen's tongue is following up on all the things it promised. For a second, it's pretty much the most terrifying thing Jared's ever done, miraculously ahead of jumping out of planes and crashing his car in the desert, but Jensen kisses like he's certain, and Jared's always been sure of him. He leans in and holds on, his hand tight on Jensen's shoulder, his mouth opening for whatever Jensen wants.
Still, Jared's head is tilted a little funny, and Jensen tastes of the nineteen cups of coffee he drank today; it shouldn't be winning any prizes, as kisses go. Except Jensen's exploring Jared's mouth as if it's the way to somewhere he's always wanted to be, and when Jared drags his teeth over his bottom lip, just like he's thought about doing since--since too long ago to remember--Jensen makes this noise, all pleasure and need and want, and Jared's pretty much done with rational thought, maybe forever.
Until Jensen pulls back, just enough to let them breathe, and he's smiling like he's just done something spectacular, like save the world from nuclear attack, or reduce Jared to speechless stupidity. There are certain things Jared just can't let him away with.
"Well," he says. He mostly says it against Jensen's chin, stubble rough under his mouth. "All those girls who had to kiss you onscreen probably needed a little extra cash as reward, huh? Really, I think I'm gonna go back to looking at those awesome trees out there."
Jensen just tangles his fingers in Jared's hair, pulls a little and laughs. "For an actor, you're a fucking awful liar."
"Bite me," Jared says.
The car takes another corner, and Jensen laughs as he moves back in. "Whatever you want, Jay."