Archive of Our Own

"Dude, seriously?"

Jensen only shrugs, rubs a palm roughly across his chin and then drops his hand to pick up his fork. It's like a silent language that Jared's had to learn over the past couple years. Jensenese. All these physical cues and tics that say more than Jensen ever manages with actual words. Even after months apart, Jared can still read it, still understand it. That's comforting. Or possibly disturbing depending on who he asks.

In this case, Jensen's telling him: Yes, I'm serious and no, it shouldn't be a big deal and it isn't a big deal except that, as of this coming Saturday, I have no place to live. And, seeing as how filming starts up, oh, tomorrow, I don't really have any time to look for a new place to live. But, hey, how hard can it be?

All that in a shrug and a chin scrub. It's an art, really. Or maybe a science. Possibly both.

Jared doesn't honestly think Jensen will have too hard a time finding a new place, though, not with the kind of money they both make. But, that's hardly the point.

"So, what're you gonna do?" he asks anyway, spearing the runaway meatball on his plate with the prongs of his fork and lifting it to his lips.

"Well, I hear they got this new, cool thing called the Int-ar-net," Jensen says, mouth twisting like his tongue is busy cleaning food out from his back teeth. "Like classified papers of the future or something. Thought I'd give it a look-see."

Jared resists rolling his eyes, but doesn't hold back a smirk as he shoves the whole meatball into his mouth. He watches Jensen's eyes go wide and manages a grin around the lump of juicy and slightly-spicy deliciousness before slowly starting to chew.

Jensen stares. "You are disgusting."

"No, I'm classy," Jared argues. Except, since his mouth is still largely occupied, it comes out sounding more like, "Oh, aw ah-ly."

Jensen snorts a reply and drops his own fork onto his plate before wiping at his mouth with the napkin and leaning forward onto his elbow.

"Look, it's not a big deal," he continues and Jared nods his agreement, his concentration split between what Jensen's saying and the process of chewing his meatball, which is really much more difficult than it should have any right to be; there's a good possibility his jaw will actually be sore by the time he's done. "He's giving me until Monday, so I have... what, four days? I can do that. Get myself a nice swanky pad downtown, maybe. Good view, big bedroom. Maybe a loft or something. Piece of cake."

Still nodding, Jared can't say anything for awhile until he finally swallows, clenches his jaw and then immediately reaches for his glass of water. The cool liquid feels good going down and he presses a hand against his chest, savoring the relief.

He opens his eyes once he's finished downing the glass to see Jensen watching him, one eyebrow arched in bemusement. Jared just brushes a hand across his nose and then clears his throat before brandishing his fork again, already eager to conquer the rest of his pasta. "So, he give any reason for kickin' you out?" he asks as he makes work of twirling a heap of noodles onto his fork.

There's a slight hesitation, barely enough for Jared to catch and when he glances up again and wraps his mouth around his fork, Jensen isn't looking at him.

"Yeah, said my stench was taking over the place and he was sick of babysitting my XBox. Also, my heroin addiction's becoming upsetting and I make too much noise when I jerk off."

Jared nearly spits out his food and has to press the back of his hand against his lips to make sure he doesn't let it spray. His eyes shoot daggers at Jensen across the table. After managing to finally swallow, he points his fork at Jensen and tilts his head. "You realize you basically just described living with Chad? Minus the heroin. I don't think he does heroin." He frowns a little. "God, I hope he doesn't do heroin."

"Probably couldn't tell anyway," Jensen supplies, leaning back in his chair and rubbing a hand over his stomach.

"So, what was the real reason?" Jared asks, pushing thoughts of Chad and possible drug use aside for the moment because, however much Jensen's joking, Jared can't imagine that Jensen'd make that bad of a roommate.

With a sigh, Jensen shrugs. "Decided to move back to LA," he says, his tone clear and easy enough, but there's something in there that Jared catches, something not quite right. Maybe it's the months and months of being on hiatus because, while Jared can tell there's something Jensen's not saying, he can't figure out what exactly it is. Clearly, his grasp of Jensenese is slipping.

"Hmm," is all he says and Jensen arches an eyebrow at him. Jared continues to watch him for a minute, like if he just keeps looking long enough, he'll figure it out.

It doesn't work.

"Dude, you about done? I wanna get back before kick-off," Jensen huffs a moment or two later, clearly not impressed by the pseudo staring contest. Jared wants to point out that it's only pre-season, but something in Jensen's tone makes him think twice. He stuffs another bite of pasta into his mouth and flags down their waiter for the bill.

:::

"So, I have an idea," Jared says, dropping onto the couch in Jensen's trailer and stretching out so that his legs prop up on the opposite arm. "Why don't you just move in with me?"

It's the next day and they're still only doing rehearsals for the most part and why Jared hadn't come up with his brilliant idea the day before, he doesn't know except that it probably had something to do with his brief, but sordid love affair with the meatball. He hadn't been thinking too clearly.

Jensen's in the kitchen area, bent over in front of the fridge. He turns around, twisting the cap off a bottle of water and regards Jared with a look that makes Jared wonder if he'd accidentally spoken in another language. But, the only other language he really knows is Spanish (it'd practically been required back in San Antonio), but only certain key phrases like 'Do you speak English?' and 'Where is the bathroom?,' so he kind of doubts he'd just slipped into it unnoticed.

"What, it makes sense," he points out, shifting to get comfortable on the couch and then folding his hands over his stomach. "It's not like we don't already spend nearly every second together anyway."

"Which is exactly why it's a profoundly bad idea," Jensen replies with a pointed look before tipping his head back to down a gulp of water.

Jared frowns, some of the wind gone out of his sails, though he's not anywhere close to done arguing his case. "Why not? Afraid of getting sick of me? Dude, if you haven't reached that point already, you ain't never gonna get there."

"Hanging out with someone, working with someone is way different than living with someone, Jared."

"We already practically live together."

Jensen's only argument then is apparently to scowl and down another drink of water like he's trying to pretend it's Jack Daniels instead. Jared wonders if he should feel insulted.

"Seriously, it only makes sense. I have space, man. Hell, I have a whole house. And, it's got two floors, so it's not like we even have to see each other." Jared watches Jensen's lips stretch into a grimace, but he can make out a flicker of indecisiveness in it, like maybe he's not really against the idea as badly as he wants Jared to believe he is, which is all the encouragement Jared needs to continue. "It'd be easier for Cliff, too. Save on gas with the van and everything. C'mon, man. There's one room that doesn't have anything in it yet, it'd be perfect."

"What about rent?" Jensen asks as soon as Jared's stopped talking.

"What about it?"

"Dude, I'm not staying at your place for free," Jensen says and the edge in his tone makes Jared blink. He actually hadn't thought of that, but, yeah, of course Jensen wouldn't want to make it look like he was freeloading. The man's got his pride, after all.

"We'll work that out," he promises quickly. "You can pitch in for the mortgage payments or something. No big deal."

Jared reaches an arm back, tucks it between the arm of the couch and his head and waits, watches Jensen. Jensen takes another sip of his water, licks his bottom lip and then pulls it between his teeth as he rests a hip against the counter. When Jensen sighs and lifts his hand to scratch his thumb across his eyebrow, Jared can already feel a grin twitching at the corner of his mouth.

"Whatever, I'll think about it," Jensen says and Jared's face breaks into a smile.

:::

Three days later, Jensen's shit's all packed up and he's still stubbornly looking for a place to stay.

"What is it about me, man? Do I smell or somethin'? C'mon..." Jared asks, still all good humor even if there's a part of him that's really is wondering what the hell must be so wrong with him that Jensen would rather go homeless than just move into his place.

"Maybe if you'd stop farting all the damn time--"

"Oh, hush," Jared says, batting his eyes. "You love my natural fragrance, admit it."

Jensen throws him a look and shakes his head. "Look, I just don't think it's a good idea."

"And, sleeping out on the streets or living out of your fuckin' trailer is?" Jensen doesn't say anything to that and Jared decides to seize the opening. "Dude, seriously. How 'bout you just stay at my place until you can find your own? Does that work? Don't even have to unpack your stuff, we'll just shove it all in the empty room and you can sleep on the couch and live out of a suitcase until you find something better."

There's a quick, sharp knock on the trailer door and Pam peeks her head inside. "Hey, guys?" she says, not looking the least bit apologetic about interrupting them, the mouthpiece of her headset raised. "Kim needs you in five."

"'Kay, thanks," Jared replies, getting up to grab Sam's shirt off the couch as Pam clicks the door shut again. Jensen's already moving too, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt before he shoots Jared a quick look.

"Just think about it, man. Alright?"

He waits for the nearly imperceptible nod of Jensen's head before relaxing and heading off to meet Kim.

Two successfully filmed scenes later and Jared's indulging in his third helping from the potato bar when Jensen drops into the chair across from him and bites into a roll.

"Hope you're free this weekend," he grumbles around a large bite of bread, reminding Jared somewhat bizarrely of a cow.

Jared blinks that mental comparison away and gives a laugh. "'Bout as free as you'll be."

"Great!" Jensen replies like it's the best news he's heard all day.

Jared arches an eyebrow, confused until the pieces start falling together nearly a full second later and then immediately breaking out into a smile. "Yeah? Seriously?"

Nodding, Jensen reaches over, dips his finger in the potato-chili-sour-cream-and-bacon-bits mess that is Jared's dinner and sucks it clean. "Any bets on how long it'll take us to build a beer can pyramid?"

"Oh, at least a month," Jared replies, smacking Jensen's hand away from his food.

"That's not very ambitious."

"We'll have to actually be home to build one. And it wouldn't last long anyway; Harley'd knock it over."

Jensen sighs. "And there go all my dreams of a two-man frat house."

:::

"Jesus Christ, what the hell you got in this thing?" Jared asks, lugging one of the larger boxes in through the garage door of his place, arms straining under the weight. And, hey, he's not trying to brag or anything, but he works out fairly regularly and this shit is heavy.

"Just a-- coupla dead bodies," Jensen grunts as he drops his own box into the previously empty guest room.

Finally maneuvering into the room far enough, Jared lets out a whoomph of air as he drops the box, bending over the side and trying to catch his breath. "Gonna be fucking useless tomorrow and I'mma tell Eric it's all your fault," he wheezes out after a minute or two.

"Not like you'll be doing much anyway," Jensen points out, rolling his shoulders back and already heading toward the door again, a smirk playing across his lips. "It's my show now, bitch. See how you like getting second billing."

Jared rolls his eyes and grumbles, a grin tugging at his lips as he follows Jensen out for the last few boxes.

:::

After the first week, nothing really feels different. Not to Jared anyway. There's enough of a precedence for Jensen crashing at his place after a night of drinking and watching football that it feels just like that, only for seven days in a row. Jared finds himself thinking a couple times that it probably is pretty close to living in a two-man frat house. Just with not quite so many parties. Or empty beer cans and pizza boxes. Or half-naked coeds.

Okay, so a pretty lame frat house where the only two inhabitants are forced to wake up every morning at the buttcrack of dawn, but whatever. It's the closest he's gotten anyway since he skipped that whole college experience.

Jensen says that he's given his bed to a friend instead of having to deal with moving the damn thing, so he spends a couple nights on Jared's couch before breaking down and buying an air mattress from Canadian Tire that fits easily inside the room with the rest of his stuff. So, that's a little different. Because suddenly Jensen has a room that isn't just occupied by boxes. Yeah, it's temporary, but it's still just a little weird to walk by that door and automatically think, Jensen's room now instead of useless and unfurnished possible guest room.

But, it's not that weird. And yeah, maybe he sees Jensen's ugly mug a little more frequently than he used to, but he can honestly barely tell. It's no big deal.

It's not until after the third week that Jared notices anything's off.

"You know, you don't have to keep all your stuff in that one room."

It's the weekend, which, in their world, means they get a break of approximately eighteen hours before they have to be back on set for some night shots and Jared plans on spending as much of that time as possible flat on his ass, watching TV and gorging himself on the care package of almond crunch cookies his mother's sent up from Texas.

"Huh?" is Jensen's clever reply as he yawns his way toward the kitchen, hair pressed flat against his head on one side and sleep-creases on his cheek. Jared has his neck craned back to look at him.

"Your stuff," he says, nodding in the vague direction of Jensen's bedroom while Jensen continues to stare at him with a sleepy, confused expression. "It's gotta be weird sleeping in a room that's half full of boxes, man. Could get rid of a few of them until you know for sure where you're going."

"Why?" Jensen replies, still looking completely confused. "I'll just have to pack 'em back up again in, like, a week."

"Dude, you haven't found anything yet. It's gonna be longer than a week."

"Two weeks then, whatever. It's still a waste of time."

"So, 'til then you're just gonna treat my place like a hotel?"

Jensen rubs the heel of his hand against his eye socket and practically glares at Jared. "Huh?"

"Look around, man. All the stuff out here is mine."

"That's because it's your house, dipshit."

And that's the thing, right there. It's not really his house anymore and hasn't been for a week. As far as Jared's concerned, they share it now. His face splits into a grin and he throws his arms out wide. "Not right now, it ain't. We're sharin'."

Jensen blinks, eyes still groggy with sleep and he shakes his head as he wanders toward the kitchen.

Jared hears a mumbled, "You're insane, Jay," but the next morning Jared finds Jensen's coffee maker sitting on his counter and he can't help but feel just a little victorious.

:::

"So, when the hell did this become The Dean Winchester Show?" Jensen asks, arching an eyebrow as he hunches over the table top, the script still laid open in his hands.

"Dude, I had to do a whole episode about you dying over and over again," Jared says, smirking as he leans back in his chair and stretches his legs out in front of him. "You got no room to be bitchin' at me."

Jensen looks over his shoulder at Jared and Jared would almost think he's being glared at except that he can see the faint smile behind Jensen's eyes. "Good thing I'm not bitchin' at you, then," he says dryly and turns to shift his glare in Eric's direction.

Eric only flashes a smile and raises both his hands, palms up. "Gonna have to wait like the rest of the world, boys," he says cryptically.

Jared doesn't even have to look at Jensen to know he's rolling his eyes and his own smile only grows wider. He crosses his arms loosely over his chest and relaxes.

Jeremy cuts in then to ask Eric a question -- something about a possible shooting location for scene eight, Jared thinks -- and Jensen sits back, grumbling under his breath, "That didn't even make sense."

Jared's smile slips then. "Are you really upset about this?" he asks and the cutting look Jensen gives him is all the answer he needs. "Wait, why? Jensen, it's a great episode. You get to be Marty McFly!"

"Yeah, because being Michael J. Fox has always been an ambition of mine."

"You better not be dissin' on Michael J. Fox, man," Jared says, sensing the undercurrent of genuine irritation and doing his best to lighten it because... well, that's what that he does. "The guy's got Parkinson's Disease, that's not cool."

Jensen raises an eyebrow. Blinks. And then finally says, "First of all, I'm going to pretend that I didn't actually just hear you use the word dissin'. Secondly, Michael J. Fox's battle with Parkinson's Disease has nothing to do with this. At all. I just think it's a weird premise."

"Right, because the rest of the show makes so much sense," Jared remarks, losing some of his humor if only because Jensen's really starting to be kind of a jackass now and Jared can only take so much.

"The rest of the show is Dean and Sam! The two of them. The brothers. It's not supposed to be all about Dean."

"Dean went to hell, man. It hasn't been the two of them for months."

"Yeah, well we didn't have to film that!"

It's only a small argument, really, but it gets the attention of the rest of the people in the room, including Eric and Jeremy and Jared can practically feel Jensen trying to backpedal beside him.

"Jensen? There a problem?" Eric says, watching them both curiously.

It's not unheard of for either of them to call plot lines or ideas into question, though it doesn't happen often and typically Jared likes to think they're a little more professional about it. Which is the only reason Jared finds himself thinking that something else is wrong. Not that he has any idea what it might be. Jensen's still tense beside him, Jared can sense it, like an outstretch of that Jensenese thing and so he cuts in before Jensen can say anything more, shrugging and throwing Eric a loose smile.

"Ugly here's just jealous," Jared states, shooting a glance at Jensen who darts a look over at him like Jared's suddenly grown a third head. "I only gotta show up for, like, an hour of filming and I can spend the rest of the week beating all his scores on Guitar Hero."

There's a snort of a laugh from the other side of the table and Jared looks over, meets Steve's eyes and smiles brighter.

"Gonna take you a helluva a lot longer than a week, man," Jensen replies just loud enough for everyone to hear and there's more laughter and, just like that, it's back to normal. Or near enough anyway.

:::

It's not until a few days later that Jared figures out what Jensen's mini-tantrum had been all about. They're in Jensen's trailer and Jared's playing some killer Wii tennis, grunting at all the appropriate moments because that's sort of required, and he thinks it's an innocent question, one that's totally not meant to be pushy in any way, but the reaction he gets...

"Fuck, Jared, I haven't had time, okay?" Jensen snaps, yanking Dean's jacket off and throwing it over the nearest chair before marching past him. "In case you missed it, I'm in nearly every goddamn scene of this episode while you and Sam get to fuck off with-- with a hot chick and play Dr. Evil with your mind or whatever-the-fuck."

Blinking, Jared lets the little yellow electronic ball fall short as he turns to face Jensen, holding up the Wii controller in surrender. "Dude, chill," he says, voice low and even.

That only gets a scowl out of Jensen and he turns his back on Jared to find his knives.

"Seriously," Jared says, dropping his hand to waist, brow creasing. "I'm only asking 'cause I'm curious. You can stay as long as you want, man, you know that."

Jensen doesn't answer, his head bowed as he yanks one knife after another from of the leather sheathe carrier and Jared's struck by how very Dean-like those movements are. And that's just never a good sign.

"Jensen--"

"I heard you," Jensen says, cutting him off and finally turning around. "Just another week, alright? I gotta get through the next few days and I'll be outta your hair."

"You're not--" Jared shuts his mouth when Jensen raises one of the knives and takes aim at the target that, unfortunately, lies just behind Jared's left shoulder. He gives up on his argument for the sake of getting the hell out of the way.

:::

A week later, Jared notices a blue toothbrush and electric razor left on the counter in the downstairs bathroom and a towel, one Jared knows for a fact isn't his, hanging up on the rod.

:::

The next time Jensen's scheduled to film a Sam-less scene, Jared puts his plan into action. Surprisingly, it doesn't take much to bribe Cliff into driving him to IKEA (a fact Jared's definitely going to have to keep in mind for the future) and, two hours later, they have a reasonably priced queen-sized mattress and flat box crammed into the front hallway. Jared slaps four tickets to the Canucks season opener into Cliff's open palm and thanks him for his help before getting down to business.

He starts by dragging all of Jensen's boxes out to make room for the bed. The boxes are still heavy as shit, but the trip from the bedroom to the hall is at least shorter and he can get away with scooting the larger ones along the carpet. Unfortunately, Jared's never been the most graceful guy and he's sort of in a hurry, wanting to get everything done before Jensen gets back from filming. Which is why the fifth box he picks up and tries to move ends up toppling out of his arms and tipping over. And just why the box isn't taped up like the rest of them, Jared doesn't know, but it's probably one of those Murphy's Law kinda things because the contents are suddenly all over the damn floor.

Grumbling a curse, Jared drops to a crouch and starts cleaning up the mess, scooping up DVDs and CD cases and magazines, trying to shove them all back in more or less the way he imagines they're supposed to be. His eyes scan over some of the titles as he works, recognizing more than a few with silent amusement because wow, Jensen has some really questionable taste in entertainment, when his eyes catch on the cover of a magazine. It's one he's definitely never heard of before. Not that he's even really looking at the title considering that the picture on the cover is grabbing most of his attention. He blinks, not sure he can really believe what he's seeing, but then a second later he gets it.

It's a joke. Has to be. Probably some kind of gag gift from Rosenbaum that Jensen just couldn't bear to part with for... for sentimental reasons or something. Sure. Makes total sense.

Because Jensen is clearly a very sentimental kinda guy.

Right.

Hurriedly, Jared gives the magazine one more passing glance before cramming it into the box and setting it aside. He likely has an hour at most before Jensen gets back and he really can't waste it contemplating the possibly questionable sexuality of his best friend.

:::

Jared has no idea how late it is by the time Jensen makes it back. Putting the bed together had taken longer than he'd anticipated and he'd had to actually unearth the small toolbox he'd buried somewhere in the back of the linen closet shortly after moving in, which had been a feat all by itself. And then he'd accidentally managed to attach the headboard to the wrong end the first time around and, by the time he'd fixed that and finally finished the whole thing, it was way past the time Jared had expected Jensen to be back.

So, passing out on the couch in the living room really hadn't been the plan, but there probably wasn't any harm in it.

He wakes to the sounds of his dogs going absolutely apeshit, his body jolting upward and breath catching in his throat in panic. But, then he hears a familiar voice shushing them in a low, calm tone and he relaxes, pushing himself up off the couch and grimacing at the way his muscles object to having spent however long curled up in an awkward position.

"Hey, Jen," he murmurs sleepily as he pads his way into the hall, still stretching.

Jensen glances up from where he's petting and soothing Sadie and Jared thinks it's probably his sleep-muddled mind that catches the weird hesitation in Jensen's expression just before he flashes Jared a sarcastic smile.

"Man, don't tell me you just spent the past eight hours sleeping."

"Okay," Jared says, reaching a hand up across his chest to scratch his shoulder. "I didn't spend the past eight hours sleeping. I don't think." Because, honestly, he's not sure how long he's been sleeping. Could've been eight hours, could've been eight minutes. Before Jensen can come back with a smart-ass comment, he rushes to add, "Oh, I have something to show you. C'mere."

He doesn't wait for Jensen to react before turning and heading down the hall, straight for Jensen's room, where he pushes the door open and flips on the light.

The bed's centered in the middle of the room, all of Jensen's boxes still stacked meticulously around it and the air mattress nowhere in sight. There's a smile stretching his face when he turns to catch Jensen's reaction, but--

"You bought me a bed?"

Jared recognizes that tone, low and kind of harsh, and Jared's not used to having it aimed in his direction, his smile immediately faltering.

"Uh," he offers, dropping a hand into the pocket of the jeans he's still wearing. "Yeah. Today. You don't like it, man, we can take it back, it's just IKEA."

"Dude," Jensen cuts in before Jared's barely finished, turning on him and, once again, Jared's stuck by how very Dean that movement is except this time there's something else accompanying it, something warm and dangerous that twists low in his stomach when Jensen's gaze fixes on him. "You bought me a freakin' bed."

"Well, you know," he says, totally ignoring the heat working up from his chest, "I figured you could use something better than an air mattress." It's not totally the truth, but it's not really a lie either. Not completely.

Jensen arches an eyebrow and Jared stands his ground, refusing to back down under that glare. Jared's got at least five inches on Jensen and a good twenty pounds or more, he's pretty damn sure he can take the guy if it comes down to an actual fight. Not that he thinks it will -- and seriously, how ridiculous would it be for Jensen to decide to take a swing at him for buying a damn bed? -- but, he's ready for it all the same.

And, again, Jared notices something flicker behind Jensen's eyes. It's barely there at all and Jared thinks it's likely he's only noticed it because they're standing so damn close, but he doesn't have much time to think about it before Jensen's laughing. Practically right in Jared's face.

"Shit, Jay," he says, shaking his head as he finally steps into the room, taking a long look at the bed and reaching down to touch the mattress.

Confused, Jared stays right where he is, one hand still shoved in the pocket of his jeans, opposite shoulder against the doorjamb, waiting for Jensen to either figure out what's going on or yell at him for being a pushy, presumptuous asshole.

"Can't believe you bought me a bed."

Jared shrugs, a smile slowly curving his lips, tentative.

"You have any idea how totally gay that is?"

And then Jared's the one laughing, head tipping back to let it out, long and loud, his shoulder shaking, because, yeah, it is pretty freaking gay. "Dude, it's not like I bought a bed for the both of us, you penis," he points a second later. "Now, that'd be gay."

"Don't get any ideas," Jensen says, a bemused grin still tugging his lips and Jared tries very hard not to think about that magazine.

:::

It still takes another couple weeks before Jensen manages to get all his crap unpacked. Jared offers to help, but Jensen won't have it and Jared can't help but wonder if it's because there might be other things in those boxes that Jensen doesn't want him to see. For some reason, it's a thought that manages to really bother him. Not because Jared's a nosy guy -- though he can be -- but, mostly because he can't figure out why Jensen would need to hide something like that. He's sure Jensen knows by now that Jared isn't in the least bit homophobic, so it can't be that and, if Jensen's worried about other people finding out, well... it's not like Jared can't keep a secret. Really. Sure, he'll totally squeal about how when Jensen was eight, he had to get stitches across his eyebrow because he gashed his face open on the bathroom vanity while trying to do a flip off the toilet, but this is different. Way different.

But then, it's not like Jared should expect Jensen to tell him about his sex life. Gay or straight or otherwise. And it's all just Jared speculating anyway, based solely on a single magazine that could've been, and probably is, just a gag gift. Completely innocuous.

Jared's not a nosy guy, but sometimes he just can't help himself.

:::

Trouble is, given that he and Jensen are pretty well attached at the hip anymore, there aren't too many prime opportunities for snooping. It's not a conscious decision on either of their parts, just a hazard of the job. They film together, transport together, eat, drink and spend nearly all their free time together and now they live together. And the longer Jared has to keep speculating about the whole Questionable Sexuality thing, the more it's driving him up the wall.

Finally, an opportunity presents itself when they miraculously manage to get an episode wrapped up ahead of schedule. Seeing as it's still fairly early on a Friday night, Jensen has plans to go out with a few members of the crew to a nearby bar and invites Jared along for the fun. And, yeah, okay, Jared feels bad about lying right to Jensen's face, but not bad enough to stop himself when he claims exhaustion and puts on his best pitiful, apologetic puppy-dog look.

Of course, the fact that Jensen barely manages to look at all disappointed helps make Jared feel not quite so guilty. "I'll make sure to drink a couple Foster's in your honor," Jensen says, giving Jared's shoulder a squeeze and then a clap on the back before crawling into David's car.

Asshole.

Cliff drives him home and, somehow, Jared manages to not dive straight into Jensen's room the second he steps in the door. Instead, he lets the dogs out and feeds them, orders himself a pizza and changes into his lounging-around-the-house-like-a-slob pants before letting the mutts back in. Before even giving him a decent greeting, they both head straight for the food bowls, but Jared doesn't take it too personally even as he teasingly mutters an "Ungrateful mutts' under his breath. He flips on the television and tunes the channel to some baseball game he doesn't particularly care about, the drone of the commentators a soothing background noise as he cracks open a beer and tries to work out his moral dilemma.

To snoop or not to snoop, that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous secrecy, or to take arms against a sea of suspicions--

Yeah, okay, he's stopping there. Even if he's somewhat amazed at himself for being able to remember that much.

He's pretty sure that going through Jensen's stuff in an effort to possibly unearth a deeply hidden secret would solidify him as one of the worst friends ever. On the other hand, it's not like he's intending to hurt Jensen if he does find something. It's more out of curiosity. In fact, he can claim that he's trying to help in that, if he does find something, something that solidifies his suspicions, he can then figure out a way to approach Jensen about it and offer his unending and unconditional support.

Or something.

Also, he figures that whatever Jensen doesn't know can't hurt him.

With that out of the way, and with both Harley and Sadie on his heels, Jared begins his infiltration. The guilt's still there and he practically tip-toes into Jensen's bedroom, as though sure his roommate has secretly planted cameras around the room in anticipation for just this kind of invasion of privacy. He flicks the light on and takes a brief, cursory glance of Jensen's room. The bed isn't made and there's a crumpled pair of shorts on the floor, but the rest of the place is pretty clean. Jared's seen this much before since Jensen doesn't really make it a habit of keeping his door closed unless he's sleeping, but it feels different for Jared to see it now, to be really looking at it. Probably has something to do with the fact that Jensen hasn't given Jared permission for this, implicit or otherwise.

And, oh hey, there's that guilt again.

Determined, Jared ignores his gut and heads for the nightstand, confident that if he's going to find anything vaguely incriminating, it'll likely be located there, within arms reach of the bed. He sits on the edge of Jensen's bed and pulls open the top drawer, rifling through a few Sports Illustrated magazines (none of which are the Swimsuit Issue and Jared's not sure if that should count as evidence or not), and a box of Kleenex (definitely not evidence for or against; either way he's sure Jensen's not innocent of jerking off like the best of them or... just having a runny nose), a frayed baseball cap folded in on itself, a few cords for various electronic equipment and, at the very bottom, a Bible.

Jared smirks at that, somehow completely unsurprised and doesn't resist the urge to open it and see if it has Jensen's named scrawled on the first page in a third grader's handwriting -- it does -- before moving onto the bottom drawer.

At first glance, the bottom drawer proves to merely hold more of the same: magazines (none of which are the one Jared had stumbled on before; he's unsure whether or not to be disappointed by that), loose change and a folded up piece of fabric that Jared's willing to bet money is the Texan flag. Upon further inspection, Jared uncovers a string of foil packets and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what's in them. For some reason, he feels his face heat slightly, but it still doesn't give him an answer either way.

And then he sees them. Two things. The first is a small bottle of clear liquid which, by itself, doesn't really suggest anything. It's only lube and if owning a bottle of lube makes a guy gay, than Jared himself is right up there with Little Richard and George Michael. No man, regardless of sexual orientation, enjoys chafing, of that much, Jared's certain.

But, it's that in conjunction with the other thing that seals it. It's a-- well, there's really no delicate way to put it -- it's a dildo. Jared doesn't touch it, just stares with wide eyes, taking in the size and shape and really trying not to imagine just how it could be used. Except doing that is a little bit like not thinking about a pink elephant when someone's whispering in his ear to not think about a pink elephant and, before he knows it, his mind's suddenly filled with images of Jensen bent over on the bed, legs spread and ass in the air, of Jensen on his back, both hands between his legs, one wrapped around his cock and the other pushing that thing inside himself, of Jensen's face when he has it inside him, expression relaxed with pure pleasure, cheeks flushed and--

The sound of the doorbell ringing suddenly knocks him out of his wandering thoughts and Jared nearly jumps five feet in the air, his heart flying up even higher and lodging itself somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. For one, paranoid second, he's positive it's Jensen and Jensen will surely notice the guilt and shame and shock all over his face and then he reminds himself that Jensen has a key now, thereby negating any need to ring the doorbell.

Unless he's drunk and managed to lose his keys which, really, isn't too far-fetched a possibility.

And then Jared remembers the pizza he'd ordered.

Letting out a quick, relieved breath, Jared gives the dildo one last dark glance before shoving the drawer closed and hurrying out of the room, Harley and Sadie both already barking up a riot at the front door.

A half an hour, half a pizza and a full inning later, and Jared's still having trouble erasing the vivid imagery from his mind and, moreover, he's having trouble keeping his hand out of his sweatpants.

:::

As far as Jared can tell, he gets away with it. It should be a relief, maybe; Jared's integrity is still intact, after all. But, now he knows this thing, this really kinda big thing about his best friend. Or, at least he thinks he does, has a pretty clear suspicion with pretty stark evidence to support it anyway.

Or, maybe he's just looking too deeply into it, maybe he's seeing something that isn't really there. It's always possible that the dildo doesn't even belong to Jensen, that he's just keeping it for Danneel or someone. Why he'd do that, Jared's not about to guess, but it's a possibility. Or maybe it'd been left behind after a break-up and, for whatever reason, Jensen just hasn't thrown it out yet.

Jared's willing to concede that he's reaching a bit now.

But, the question still stands. It's entirely possible that both the dildo and the magazine mean nothing. They could both be gag gifts from Mike, for all Jared knows. In fact, barring the 'Jensen Is Totally Gay Theory', Jared's willing to put all his money on the 'Mike Is an Ass with the Sense of Humor of a Twelve-Year-Old Theory.'

"Dude, move over."

Jensen's voice effectively knocks Jared out of his thoughts and he swears he can feel his face heating immediately with guilt. He lazily shifts over on the couch as Jensen drops down next to him, shoving a bowl of popcorn into Jared's lap.

"Hold," Jensen instructs and Jared does so, clutching the bowl to his chest, as Jensen scoots forward to grab the XBox controller off the coffee table and settles back again, his shoulder knocking against Jared's. The sounds of Madden '08 burst through Jared's speakers and Jensen finally looks back at him. "Hey, you gonna play or what?"

Jared blinks, staring straight ahead, all those images of Jensen with that thing tumbling to the forefront of his mind again, twisting up with this, this right here, this moment and the thousand others just like it and he suddenly has to drop the bowl, hold it down tight against his lap to hide the swell inside his jeans.

"Uh, Jare?"

Swallowing tightly, Jared finally turns his head enough to look at Jensen who's looking right back at him like he's afraid Jared's about to tell him his father just suffered a heart attack or the show's been inexplicably canceled or someone raped his dog.

"Yeah," he rushes to say, if just to get that look off Jensen's face. "Yeah, man, I'm fine." And then he's practically lunging forward to grab the other controller, making sure to keep the bowl of popcorn firmly in place at the same time. He fumbles with the plastic a little and he can practically feel the look of weirded-out suspicion that Jensen's emanating in his direction, but his lips thin into a single line as he ignores it.

"Dude, seriously, what's--"

"Shut up, Schmackles, and pick your team," Jared says, his tone not quite as light and teasing as he'd been going for. Seems to do the trick though, and Jensen just shrugs, a slow smile creeping back onto face.

"Alright, man. Prepare to get your ass kicked."

:::

It's not like Jared's never thought about it before. The whole guy thing, that is. At fourteen, he and a few friends had experimented with jerking each other off in Chris Deiterman's basement a few times and there'd been that one, drunken kiss with Chad five years back that Jared's successfully managed to almost completely repress for the benefit of them both. But, that doesn't make him gay, he doesn't think. Not completely anyway; Sandy alone should be proof of that. And, yeah, maybe they'd grown apart, maybe they'd both made some mistakes, but that didn't change the fact that he'd been head over heels in love with her for years. And the sex had never been a problem. Ever. So, he's not... well, he's not exactly questioning his entire sexuality. It's just that he really hasn't had much reason to think about it at all for the past three years; having Sandy around had effectively stuffed any latent sexuality questions under the metaphorical blanket.

And, frankly, with his hand currently wrapped tight around his dick and thoughts of Jensen stretched out naked in his bed, pushing that thing into his ass, flushed and sweaty and moaning for it, he really can't gather the energy to care.

There might be some guilt in it, he'll admit that much, some embarrassment for thinking about Jensen in the same way he knows so many of the fans must think of him, but most of that is overwhelmed by how fucking turned on he is. Jared's typically a pretty visual guy, gets off on what he sees more than what he just thinks about, but what he has going through his head may as well be a bonafide, live-action porno for what it's doing to him.

So far, everything he's thought about has been somewhat voyeuristic, all the images of Jensen jerking off alone or Jensen bent over, fucking himself on that slick, black dildo. But, it's not much of a step to imagine himself there, stretched out on the bed alongside Jensen, his hand wrapped around the base of the thing as he feeds it to Jensen's hole, watches Jensen shake and clench around it, hands scrambling at the bedsheets.

"Fuck," Jared groans sharply and then clamps his mouth shut. It's doubtful that Jensen could hear him through two closed doors and a full floor, but it's still not a risk Jared's willing to take. A whimper pushes past his throat and he returns to the images flying through his head: Jensen on his knees, bent over low and sucking Jared's cock down his throat, letting Jared arch and thrust into him; Jensen laid out beside him, face-to-face, legs tangled as they grapple and rut against each other and Jensen's mouth-- fuck, Jensen's mouth on his, a hand on the side of Jared's neck, holding him there; Jensen stretched out on his stomach, hips gently raised as Jared slides a finger down the crack of his ass and then in, Jensen's voice as Jared stretches him, readies him. Jared's hand is a poor substitute for the ache he feels, but it's enough, it's enough and seconds later, he's spilling over, gasping into his empty bedroom with Jensen's name on the tip of his tongue.

:::

It's a few days later when Jared breaks down and calls Sandy. She's still in his speed dial, so he presses her number, hears it ring twice and hangs up.

Bad idea. She's the woman he very nearly married and now he's planning on telling her he might be gay for his best friend. Right. Yeah, that's classy.

Except, the thing is, she's pretty much the only person in the entire world he can talk to about this.

Sighing, he hits redial and chews at his bottom lip. It rings once and Jared panics again, very nearly hanging up once more before Sandy's familiar voice breaks through the line.

"Jared?"

"Hi. Sandy. Hey." It comes out like a rush of a breath, nerves already getting the better of him and he flinches to himself, knowing he has to sound like a complete idiot. At least it isn't anything she's not used to. He rubs a quick hand across his brow and hunches forward, elbows digging into his knees.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Leave it up to Sandy to be able to pick up on his mood after just a hello. Jared's not sure whether to be grateful or feel suddenly put on the spot. Even if he's the one who's made the call.

"I'm--" he starts, suddenly realizing he's not entirely sure how to answer. "Yeah, Sandy, I'm fine. Nothing's-- I just-- I need to ask you something."

"... Okay," Sandy says, the word quiet and drawn out and Jared recognizes that tone, that one that says she doesn't believe him at all, but is willing to humor him for the time being. He's gotten it a lot over the past few years.

"Right. Okay," Jared replies, taking a few breaths in an effort to try and psyche himself up. It doesn't really work. "Have you ever-- When we-- Did--" He lets out a frustrated sound and drops his hand away from his face. "You know what, forget it. How are you? I'm sorry, I'm an ass; I should've asked that right away. Shit. You're-- you doin' okay?"

"Jared, I'm fine," Sandy replies and he recognizes the tone there, too. Cautious exasperation. Great. "Nothing much has changed since the last time we talked. Which was about two days ago. Now, seriously, what's wrong, you're starting to scare me here."

He winces and bites at his lip while studiously picking at the denim of his jeans. "Nothing's--" he starts to insist again before letting out a huff of a breath and just diving into it. "Have I ever come off as gay to you?"

Sandy's reply is nothing but silence at first and Jared feels his stomach slowly trying to crawl its way into his throat.

"What, because of how you dress?" she finally manages and Jared could swear he can detect a hint of amusement in her voice.

"No, not-- what's wrong with how I dress?"

Her laughter rings through the line, high and soft, but not unkind. "I just meant with, you know. All the pink."

"Jesus, men are allowed to wear pink, okay? There ain't no law against--"

She cuts him off with a sigh. "Jared, why are you asking me this?"

Her voice is still quiet, nearly soothing and Jared realizes suddenly exactly why he's called her. It'd been instinctive when he'd picked up the phone, no one else in mind. And it's because as much as he's fucked up with her and as much as things are never going to be like they were before, she's still his best friend. Right up there with Jensen.

"I think..." he trails off, still not quite able to get his mouth around the words. Despite the fact that he knows he can trust Sandy with absolutely anything, he's totally starting to reconsider this whole thing. Even if it's a little too late for that.

"... Oh God." Jared flinches, head bowed, waiting for either the blow-up or the freak-out or the peals of laughter. "That's not--" Sandy's voice has gone even quieter, something in it making Jared's protective nature suddenly spring to life because he knows without even having to see her face just where her mind's heading.

"No, no," he insists, practically flying up off the bed with a rush of words. "Sandy. No. It's not-- Look, I don't think I am and I definitely didn't when we-- That's not it. I swear. That was never it. Okay? Sandy?"

There's still nothing but silence for a moment and Jared's paranoia ratchets up another notch before he finally hears her let out a breath. "Then why... Jared, what the hell is this about?"

Jared finally exhales and drops back down onto the bed with a thump, head in one hand. "I don't know," he tells her, knowing full well she'll see it for the lie that it is.

"Jared." When she uses that tone she sounds way too much like his mother. It's sort of creepy.

"Okay, if I tell you this, you have to promise not to tell another single soul in the entire world," he says and wow, he's never felt more like a gossiping fifteen year old girl in his entire life. Fantastic.

"Jared, would you just spit it--"

"I think Jensen's gay."

"Oh," Sandy replies, quiet again. "But... Danneel."

"She's always kinda been... I mean, Jensen tried to explain it to me once. They're really good friends and I think he's thought about-- whatever, I don't know. They like playing it up, I guess. Network likes it too, so they just go with it."

"Okay," Sandy says, clearly getting it about as well as Jared ever has. "So, now you think he might be gay. Jared, I don't think I understand how this has anything to do with you."

Thing is, it doesn't. Or, it shouldn't. Except that ever since his little infiltration of Jensen's nightstand, he can't stop imagining the guy naked every time he wraps his hand around his own dick. And that right there? That's a problem. A pretty significant one given the fact that he's twenty-six years old, was until only very recently engaged, is currently neck-deep in a six-days-a-week job and really not up for having a sexual identity crisis.

And, just how he's supposed to say any of that out loud, he doesn't know. Thankfully, Sandy being Sandy, makes it so he doesn't have to.

"Oh," he hears her breathe into the phone and instantly feels a flush of heat work up his neck. "Wow. Uhm. Have you two..."

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what Sandy's fishing for and Jared lets out a rough, awkward laugh as he shakes his head. "No," he assures, lets out another breath. "No. It's not... not really like that."

"Okay," Sandy says again and Jared could swear he hears a tinge of doubt. "So... what makes you think he's gay then?"

"I, uh. Found some stuff in his room," Jared says, not exactly eager to get into the particulars.

"Stuff?"

"A magazine."

"Like a Playgirl?"

"No, a, uh... like one with, uhm. With guys."

Sandy lets out a quick laugh. "Yeah, Jared, that's a Playg--"

"Together." Jared can suddenly, vividly remember the cover of that magazine and it instantly makes his stomach twist again and heat rise to the surface of his skin. Something seriously has to be wrong with him, that's all there is to it.

"Oh. Well, that doesn't necessarily mean anything. Could just be something Mike gave him or maybe he just likes to compare? Or appreciate?"

"Sandy, guys don't appreciate other guys."

"You're trying to tell me you never took a look at some other guy in a locker room. Ever."

"That's not-- it's not the same thing. That's just unavoidable, it's not appreciating. I've never-- Sandy, he has a fuckin' dildo."

Again, there's a beat of silence and Jared lifts a hand, feels the heat coming off his cheeks. Fuck, this had been such a bad idea.

"Jensen has a dildo." Jared hears Sandy inhale and he flinches instinctively once again. "How did you-- Did he tell you about this?"

Scowling guiltily, Jared shakes his head and then realizes Sandy can't actually see him, so he attempts to find his voice again. "No. I, uh. I might have done some... investigating."

The silence is expected this time and Jared suddenly wishes a hole would just open up beneath him and suck him in. This has to be one of the most embarrassing and shameful conversations he's ever had, knocking that time his father made him call Mr. Cunningham to admit to the egging spree in eighth grade right out of the freakin' ballpark.

"You went through his things." Strangely, it doesn't sound as much like an accusation as Jared had been expecting. Not that it makes him feel any less guilty.

"Yeah," he says and rubs a hand across his chin. "I was just... the magazine made me curious, that's all. And it's not like I can just ask him."

"Why not?"

"What do you mean why not?"

"Jared, the guy's your best friend. You're with each other nearly every second of every day, you tell each other everything--"

"It's not like we share our deep, dark secrets while braiding each other's hair, Sandy. Most of our conversations center around whether or not we think the Cowboys' offense is going to implode this season or whether-- whether we think the Cubs actually have a shot in hell of getting to the World Series. Not, like... not if we're suddenly thinking we might bat for the other team."

"That doesn't--"

Jared cuts her off with a gruff sound. "I can't ask him if he's gay, okay? I can't. I won't."

"But, you can and have gone through his personal belongings and used circumstantial evidence to form your own, possibly biased, conclusions."

"They're not biased," Jared insists and it comes out sounding a lot more defensive than he wants to admit.

He hears the quiet sound of Sandy sighing again and can already picture the tiny wrinkle she gets between her eyebrows when she's frustrated. And the fact that he can still think it's adorable has to mean he's still straight, doesn't it? Or is he even gayer than he thought for even thinking the word 'adorable' right now?

"Jared, do you really think you're..."

After three years and nearly getting married, Jared's not all that surprised that Sandy can practically read his mind. The question still makes him wince though, makes him want to pull out every porno tape he owns and jerk off for hours just to prove that he can, that he still likes tits and pussy as much as the next red-blooded, heterosexual American male, goddammit.

"I don't know," is finally his answer. It feels like an apology. "Maybe."

When Sandy speaks again, her voice is softer, nearly soothing and it's a little difficult to not fall in love with her all over again. "Jared, baby. You need to just ask him."

Of course, maybe half the reason he'd fallen out of love with her in the first place is because she's so infuriatingly right all the time.

:::

Sandy's wrong. There's no way Jared can just ask; he's completely and absolutely incapable of it.

And it's not like he doesn't try. He tries before Jensen has his second coffee, when he's just awake enough to understand English, but not quite awake enough to try to evade direct questioning or come up with any good lies. But, somehow 'Are you gay?' becomes 'We're out of toilet paper' and they have an argument over whose turn it is to go grocery shopping before Kurt calls them both whiny assholes and throws a box of tissues at Jared's head. He tries between scenes when they have time to kill playing Wii in Jared's trailer and after lunch when they're both high with that just-been-fed vibe. But, both times he gets interrupted by a passing crew member or a knock on the door or a slight change in the wind direction and the opportunity passes. He tries after they've read through and set to memory the latest Heavy Non-Discussion in the Impala scene and after they've both been wiped free of make-up and fake blood for the evening and when they're dropping Sam and Dean's dirtied clothes off at the dress trailer. He doesn't try on the ride home because he doubts that's a discussion Cliff ever wants to overhear, but he does try once he's let the dogs out and Jensen grabs a beer from the fridge and plants himself in front of the television.

"Hey, wanna watch Butch Cassidy?" is probably the closest Jared's come to asking all day except he doubts Jensen can quite read the subtext of: 'Do you think Butch and Sundance were totally doing it in the butt and, if so, would you want to watch?'

Still, when Jensen answers with a grunt in the form of an affirmative, Jared has to struggle not to assume it answers both questions.

Neither of them make it all the way through, the long day taking its toll. The clock declares that it's well past 2:00 am when Jared finally manages to sleepily extricate himself from the couch. Jensen's still passed out on the other end, arms and legs curled up close to his body and head tipped against the overstuffed arm. It strikes Jared just how peaceful Jensen looks like that, stress-free and innocent and... and a word he's refusing to acknowledge for fear of it making him absolutely and irrevocably gay gay, so very very gay.

Clearing his throat quietly, Jared finally manages to drop a hand to Jensen's shoulder, squeezing and then shaking him gently. "Hey, Jen. Jen, c'mon. Gotta get to bed, man."

There's a slight shift in Jensen's breathing a second before he blinks his eyes open. Jared watches the sweep of eyelashes against Jensen's cheeks as he blinks and then tips his head back to look up at Jared. For a split second, Jensen's guard is completely down, eyes bleary and vulnerable, a small, soft and slightly disoriented smile tugging at his lips as he struggles to regain consciousness and it rocks Jared to his core. Up until that point, that second Jared hadn't realized that Jensen had guards, not around him, and Jared's breath gets caught somewhere in his throat as he feels a flash of heat work down his spine.

When Jensen blinks again it's gone and Jared's stuck just staring at him, desperately trying to figure what the hell he's just seen.

"Yeah, thanks," Jensen manages, voice rough with sleep as he pushes himself up and stretches with a weary grimace.

Jared has to step away, his heart thudding quietly in his chest. He goes to work turning off the television and then lets Sadie and Harley out one last time before making himself a quick glass of water. When he takes a peek into the living room a few moments later, Jensen's gone and Jared feels like he can breathe again.

He doesn't sleep very well that night.

:::

One of Jared's favorite things about his house is the gym in the garage. It's nothing much, just a Bowflex, a treadmill and a few weights. But, he'd splurged a little and put in a kickass stereo system, complete with a 100-disc CD changer that he'll probably never use since it also has an iPod hook-up.

Jensen, apparently, is also a fan. Or, at least that's what Jared's guessing if the pulsing beat emanating from that corner of the house is any clue.

Smirking, Jared opens the door to the garage and Harley immediately pushes past him to investigate, trotting over to where Jensen's laid out on the Bowflex doing crunches. Jensen lets out a disgruntled squawk and twists precariously on the bench when Harley sticks a nose in his ear. "What the-- Jesus, Harley."

"Dude, are you really listening to Janet Jackson?" Jared ask, busting out into a laugh as he wanders over. The front collar and underarms of Jensen's shirt are soaked in sweat and it's lifted a bit off his stomach, just a thin patch of bare skin showing. Jared tries his damned hardest to not get caught staring.

"Miss Jackson if you're nasty," Jensen tells him and then groans as he moves to sit up. He flashes Jared a quick smile, still breathing hard, sweat making his skin practically glisten. "Got some Michael in there, too."

"What, no Tito?"

"Savin' him for the cardio."

Jared lets out a laugh and nods and then has to quickly look away when Jensen lifts his shirt up enough to wipe the sweat off his face. "Dude, I should be charging you extra for the use of this place," he says quickly, though it's clear he's joking.

"I don't pay in sexual favors, Jay. That's illegal even in Canada," Jensen replies, without missing a beat as he stands up and starts sliding the bench into a seat.

"Like you could give head worth the cost of this thing," Jared replies, amazed with himself for managing to both not trip over his words and to actually find any at all. It's probably just instinct anymore considering that it's really nothing all that dissimilar from anything Jensen's ever said to him before. He's used to this even if it feels completely different now. For him, anyway.

Jensen locks the bench in place and then drops down onto it, a leg on either side, and Jared can't help but notice the way Jensen's shorts just... lay over his skin. "Well," Jensen says, seemingly oblivious to the way Jared can't stop looking, "it's not like you really know, now do you?"

Jared's pretty sure he stops breathing right about then and he feels all the blood in his body swiftly rushing downward. He sputters quietly, manages to cover it up with a cough as he shakes his head. "If you really think you can give me a blowjob worth a grand, dude, I trust you to fall to your knees and put your mouth where your... mouth is," he says, turning away to check out Jensen's iPod. Not that he really cares about what's on it, but just to have an excuse to look at anything but the stretch of skin and muscle laid out only three feet away.

Reaching up, he trails his finger along the wheel, scanning the titles as Jensen grunts behind him and, Jesus, just the sounds are going to drive him out of his mind. Forcing himself to concentrate, he sucks in a breath and focuses on the song titles that scroll past, lips twitching into a grin when one catches his attention. "Aw yeah, here we go," he says, Miss Jackson's voice abruptly cutting off to make way for a quick guitar and drum beat. Jared turns up the volume, his head bobbing in time as he glances back over his shoulder to see that Jensen's already into it, lips curved in a grin as he starts air drumming.

When they both begin belting out the lyrics in unison, Harley darts away, seeking refuge in the house.

:::

A week after talking to her, Sandy's still wrong.

The not knowing is starting to drive Jared a little nuts and he gets the feeling that Jensen's beginning to suspect something's up. He tries to play it cool, tries to be the Jared he's always been: goofy and playful and cheerful at all times, at least behind the cameras. He tries and it mostly works except that sometimes Jensen will turn to look at him in the make-up trailer, one eyebrow arched, and Jared will suddenly realize he's kind of been staring. Or they'll be playing video games between changes in scenes and Jared will notice that Jensen is pressed up right along his side, all heat and muscle from ankle to hip, and his fingers will stumble on the controller and Jensen will jump up in victory as Jared has to fight the furious rise of heat to his face. Or Jensen will be changing into Dean's clothes, baring miles of perfectly toned skin that practically makes Jared's mouth water and the urge to know, to finally just get it out in the open is right there.

But, he can't.

Sandy's still wrong, but Jared's pretty sure he's got the other question figured out.

:::

Normally, Jared and Jensen leave set at the same time regardless of whether or not one of them technically has to stay longer than the other. Before they were living together it'd been a solidarity thing, but now it's more common sense than anything else, not to mention the money they save on gas. But, when Kim needs Jensen to re-shoot some close-ups, Jared pleads exhaustion and fakes a cough before managing to bribe Liam, one of the new PAs, into giving him a lift home. Before his escape, he catches Jensen giving him a look that manages to appear both worried and slightly suspicious, but Jared gives a weary thumbs up and quickly gets his ass out of there.

His intentions are, of course, less than pure, but he convinces himself it's necessary. So far, all he really has to go on is a magazine and a dildo, both of which could mean nothing at all except that Mike has the humor of a twelve year old. It's not nearly enough to make Jared go out on a limb, especially not one he'd likely put in danger of completely snapping.

Harley and Sadie greet him at the door, tails wagging in excitement as he drops his keys on the kitchen counter and lets them out. The argument with his conscience had taken place in the passenger seat of Liam's Honda Civic, so there's no time wasted on it this time and he makes a beeline for Jensen's room. It looks nearly the same as before, complete with unmade bed and a towel left on the floor. Jared stands just inside the doorway for a moment, surveying the place and trying to ascertain where to begin his search.

He debates attacking the nightstand again, the image of the large, black dildo more than a little tempting, but dismisses it almost as quickly. He doesn't need the distraction. Instead, his gaze wanders to the dresser in the corner, the top drawer of which is slightly open. As far as Jared's concerned, that's as good an invitation as any. But, a glance inside reveals nothing but a couple dozen pairs of boxer briefs (that Jared is suddenly desperately trying not to imagine Jensen in) and even more socks. The next two drawers hold t-shirts of varying degrees of shade and relevancy and Jared's surprised to notice that he only recognizes some of them. Unfortunately, there doesn't appear to be one that declares "KISS ME, I'M GAY!" and he moves on to the next drawer. That one only seems to contain lounge pants and some older-looking boxer shorts of which, again, Jared only recognizes a few. The bottom drawer, his last hope, holds Jensen's work-out clothes, most of which Jared actually recognizes. Either that or they're all so generic that Jared just thinks he recognizes them, possibly because he could own the very same ones.

All-in-all, the dresser's a bust.

Remaining undeterred, Jared turns to survey the room once more, hands resting on his hips like he's mentally preparing himself for battle. He figures he'd have better luck if he had any idea what he's looking for beyond just something with the vague definition of 'really fucking gay.' As it is, he feels like the Supreme Court trying to identify something as pornographic: he'll know it when he sees it.

Which, of course, is when he notices the closet and barely refrains from smacking his own forehead.

He's there in two long steps, feeling almost giddy with anticipation before pulling the doors back to reveal, well... mostly just a lot of clothes. Jeans and slacks and nicer, button-down shirts. There's a jacket or three clearly stolen from set and a few belts dangling from a hanger. Shoes and boots litter the floor, mismatched and scattered and there's a half-deflated soccer ball shoved in the back corner. It's pretty much the picture of a heterosexual man's closet, no sign of a wig or a sparkly dress in sight. Not even a boa, though Jared figures that'd probably be even less incriminating than the magazine considering he actually owns a boa. Except there's that whole thing where, while he may not be completely gay, he's at least gay for Jensen, so maybe a boa would count as a clue.

And, yeah, he's pretty sure he'll get dizzy in that circular logic if he lets himself think about it too much longer.

Instead, he decides to dig deeper into Jensen's closet, both literally and figuratively. There are a few boxes stacked on the shelf above the clothes rack, a few that Jared doubts have been opened since the move. Relieved to find the one on top unsealed, Jared tugs it down and sits cross-legged on the floor as he starts rifling through the contents. There doesn't appear to be anything earth-shattering unless owning copies of Great Expectations and Huckleberry Finn can be seen as cause for suspicion. On the other hand, he stumbles across a stuffed lop-eared bunny rabbit that looks like it has to be at least twenty-five years old and figures that it counts both as incredibly queer and perfect blackmail material.

With a grin, Jared sets the bunny aside and reaches in to pull out a Nike shoebox. Inside it, he finds what must be a couple hundred photographs, mostly taken on set from the looks of it. Jensen's been carrying a camera around since halfway through the first season, but Jared's only ever seen a few of the pictures before and none of these look familiar. There are more than a few of Kim and the rest of the crew, some where they're all actually managing to look professional and a lot more where they really aren't. There are a few taken in the make-up trailer, the girls pulling faces and fencing with eyeliner pencils. There's one of Cliff stuffing his face with potato chips, the middle finger of his unoccupied hand extended upward in a friendly salute. There are a couple of Bobby looking as irritated as normal and one -- just one -- where he's sticking his tongue out and very-nearly-but-not-quite smiling. Jared's pleased to notice more than a few taken of him and can even remember the situations surrounding a few of them, but not all. Like the one where he's curled up on the couch in his trailer, dead to the world.

There's actually more than one of those. Some are close-up shots. Tilting one slightly, Jared frowns, noting that he looks kind of retarded when he's asleep.

Huh.

Jared has no idea how long he spends going through the pictures, caught up in the memories of the past few years, moments caught in still frame. The fact that Jensen's never shared these before seems a little strange, but before Jared has too much time to dwell on it, he finds a photo that definitely doesn't belong with the rest. It's not of anyone from the show for one thing and, for another, the guy's naked.

And quite obviously, uhm... erect.

Jared's eyes go wide as he takes it in: the guy's laid out on a familiar-looking couch, head tipped back and eyes closed, one leg hanging over the edge of the cushions and the other bent at the knee in obvious display. He has one arm tucked back behind his head, the other sliding down, fingers wrapped around his dick. It's actually a stunning photograph and Jared can't help but think that if it were in black and white, it could probably be sold as art or erotica or what-the-hell-ever. Or maybe just artsy porn. Mostly, he can't help but imagine what Jensen would look like in that position.

Somehow, it's only then that Jared realizes who the guy in the picture is.

"Jared, man, your dogs're--"

Jumping about three feet in the air, Jared whips his head around to see Jensen standing in the doorway and he scrambles to shove the picture behind all the rest. "You're supposed to be filming." The words are rushed, his voice a lot higher than normal and, ordinarily, he might feel a little embarrassed about that, except right now he's really feeling way too panicked to care.

Jared watches Jensen's lips press into a thin line as he walks further into the room. There's still a smudge of fake blood on his chin and Jared's trying really very hard to not fixate on it.

"What're you doing?"

"I, uh--" Jared starts, his mind tripping over itself as he scrambles to think of some lie, any lie, to get himself out of this. The problem is Jared's never been a very good liar even in the best of circumstances and this is really not the best of circumstances. In fact, on a scale of one to epically shitty, Jared's pretty sure it rates somewhere just beneath animal torture. Possibly.

"Dude, are you going through my stuff?"

"No!" Jared says immediately, shoving pictures back into the box as he hurriedly stumbles to his feet. "I was just--"

"You're going through my stuff. What the hell, Jared?"

Jared's seen Jensen get well and truly pissed off only a handful of times, which is more than enough to know that he's never had any interest in ever being the cause of it. "I was looking for a lighter," he blurts out, managing to hide a wince at just how ridiculous that sounds.

"Why would you-- you don't smoke."

"For the grill."

Jensen's eyes narrow and the muscle in his jaw twitches. "Jared, you better start telling me the truth and you better start telling me fast."

Suddenly, Jared feels like he's talking to his dad and that's just all kinds of disturbing.

It hits though, right smack in the chest, and Jared's shoulders slump a little as he lets out a guilty breath, lifts a hand to rub at his temple. But, it doesn't exactly help in figuring out what to say. "I was snooping around because I think you might be gay and, if that's the case and I really think it might be, I was kind of thinking we could maybe be gay together," isn't really going to go down very well, Jared figures.

"I was going through your stuff," is all he actually manages.

"Yeah, Captain Obvious, I kinda deduced that much. Now, you wanna tell me why?"

Jared feels a muscle in his jaw tense and, without thinking, shoots back, "You wanna tell me why you have a naked picture of your ex-roommate?"

It's not what he'd meant to say at all, but the words tumble out of Jared's mouth before he can stop them, big enough to suddenly suck up all the air in the room. They're both caught by surprise and Jared watches in silent fascination as Jensen balks and flushes a deep red.

"You-- what?" Jensen finally manages, stony expression immediately sliding into place again. But, it's too late and they both know it. Or at least Jared knows it. All that evidence he's acquired, the magazine and the dildo and the picture, it all means jackshit compared to that one truly horrified look on Jensen's face.

"Oh-ho, man, don't even start," Jared says, a rough, humorless laugh pushing past his throat as he points a finger at Jensen. "Don't. Seriously, dude. Not now. I'm your best friend and you--"

"What the-- Jared? Right now?" Jensen's voice is cold and harsh enough to stop Jared short, make his stomach plummet to somewhere around his knees. "Right now, you are the very last person I would call my friend."

Jared's stomach continues crashing to the floor and, even though there's a part of Jared that knows Jensen can't entirely mean it, there's an even bigger part that knows he could and maybe should. And, worse, he has ever right to. Christ, has he ever fucked this up.

The force of the front door slamming shut is hard enough to shake the walls, but Jared barely flinches.

:::

Jared can't mask his surprise when he slides into the SUV the next morning and Jensen's already in the back seat nursing a Starbucks. Venti, of course. A copy of the day's scheduled scenes gets thrown in his general direction and he frowns down at the pages as Jensen grumbles, "Lines. Come on."

It's very nearly just like every other morning except that Jensen's completely refusing to look at him and there's a tension in the air Jared can't shake.

He's smart enough to not call attention to it, though and the drive is long enough for them to go through the few scenes more than once, trying out different approaches and volume levels. Jensen closes his script decisively as they pull into the lot, stepping out into the morning air and immediately heading for his trailer before Jared can even attempt one word that hasn't been written for him.

To be fair, though, he doesn't try all that hard.

Little changes throughout the course of the day. Jared wears Sam like a shield, like if he lets the Jared in him slip through, people will know, will see the writing all over him declaring in bright neon letters what a Giant Loser Asshole he is. Also, totally Queer for his Best Friend. The one he's betrayed. The one who can barely stand to look at him now whenever they're not all but forcibly planted in front of a camera. Neither of them does a very good job trying to pretend that everything's okay and it's not even lunch before Jared's being pulled aside by Jason, one of the camera guys.

"So, what the hell's going on with you two?"

"Huh?" Jared asks, pulling out the earbud of his iPod as he frowns down at the guy.

"Come on, man. You and Jensen."

Jared feels himself go tense all over, but he only quirks a half-smile, determined to not let it show. "What about me and Jensen?"

"You guys have a fight or something? I mean-- look, it's not really my business or nothin', but Kim's been grumbling a lot. Saying it's good for what he's shot today so far, adds to the tension between Sam and Dean or whatever, but you're gonna need to chill your grill before tomorrow."

"Chill my..." Despite himself, Jared gives a snort of laughter and relaxes somewhat. "Dude, it's fine. Tell Kim to chill his grill before me and Jensen do it for him." At first Jason doesn't seem completely convinced, but Jared gives another quick smile and adds a, "Seriously, man," it seems to do the trick. Jason walks off, apparently placated, and Jared pretends he can believe it himself for a little while.

It becomes harder as the day drags on though, as lunch pushes into another scene into another break that Jared spends alone in his trailer. And it's not-- he's not co-dependent or anything like that, he can live without Jensen just fine, did it all summer, in fact. But this is different.

This is completely different.

:::

It's nearing midnight by the time they make it off set and Jared's entire body aches as he crawls into the SUV for the ride home. It's too natural, too much like every other night for the past three years for him to be completely surprised when Jensen slides in after him, but there's an inkling of it all the same. Jared still doesn't know where Jensen had gone off to the night before, hasn't asked. Something tells him it's not his place to know right now, though he suspects it'd just been a hotel. Not like Jensen can't afford it.

Cliff's turned in the passenger seat, gaze locked on Jensen in a silent question and Jared realizes he knows. Cliff. And yeah, that only makes sense given that he's paid to make sure neither of them get their asses assaulted and kind of needs to know where they are at all times, but it hadn't really occurred to him for whatever reason and it doesn't sit well. Not that his opinion on the situation matters much at all at this point.

But, Jensen only briefly looks up and gives a quick, tight shake of his head before turning to stare out the window into the darkness.

It's probably the most uncomfortable car ride Jared's ever been in, but it's hardly a relief when they pull up in front of his house. He still tries to make like nothing's wrong though, slapping a hand on Cliff's shoulder as he climbs out after Jensen. Cliff isn't an idiot, but he doesn't press anything, just gives them both a two-fingered salute as Jared shuts the door. Jensen beats him to the house and is already wading his way between two excited and full-bladdered dogs by the time Jared catches up. Sadie whines piteously as Jared shuts and locks the door and he bends over to scratch the top of her head lightly.

"Yeah, I know, girl. C'mon. Let's go outside." Jared leads them both to the back door, lets them out, and a heavy silence settles over the house without the click-click-click of nails on tile to take up the space.

Clearing his throat softly, Jared turns to head back to the kitchen, just in time to spot Jensen dragging a bag out into the hallway. It doesn't look like a completely full bag, but it's enough to make something tighten in Jared's gut and he walks over in two long strides.

Jensen barely glances up at him and Jared doesn't even have time to ask before Jensen says, "I'm moving out."

Jared blinks and then lets out a sound that's almost a laugh, quick and surprised as both eyebrows shoot upward. "You're-- what? Jen, come on." But, Jensen's already turned away from him, heading back into his bedroom and, before Jared can think better of it, he's following. "Jensen. Dude, can we just-- let me explain, alright?"

"Cab's on its way," Jensen says, stalking to the side of his bed with Jared right on his heels.

"A ca-- What, seriously? Where to? You're moving tonight?"

"No," Jensen replies, short and cold, his back turned to Jared as he messes with something on his bed. Or-- underneath the bed. Frowning, Jared can't figure out what the hell he's doing before Jensen's turned around and stalking toward him, shoving a tattered magazine against his chest. "Here," he tells Jared, green eyes furious as he gives a shove hard enough to actually make Jared stumble back a step. "Just in case you want to do some more looking while I'm gone. Figured I'd knock out some of the work for you."

Jared barely has to glance at it to recognize what it is, a flush of heat blooming up his neck and face as he lets out a rough sound of frustration.

Jensen's eyes narrow. "What? Not good enough? Fine." And then he's spinning around, yanking open the bottom drawer of his nightstand. Jared's eyes go wide and he steps forward, trying to manhandle Jensen away, which really doesn't work in his favor since it only makes Jensen whirl around again in a fury, shoving Jared off of him. "Back the fuck off, man!"

It's by far the angriest Jared's ever seen him, makes him wonder how much of it is Jensen pulling from Dean and how much is pure Jensen, if Jensen is really that pissed off with him. He lifts both hands in surrender, but doesn't back away any further. It's either stupidity or stubbornness, but he's not done here. He's not.

"Look, would you just..." he trails off a little as he starts to lower his arms. Thankfully, Jensen hasn't turned back to the nightstand. Jared can't really think about what's there without completely losing his resolve. "Listen to me, alright? I know I don't deserve it, man, and I know I really fucked up and you don't have any reason to trust me right now, but seriously, just-- I'm begging you. Please. Give me a few minutes."

Jared can practically hear his own blood pulsing in the silence that descends as he waits, watches Jensen's jaw twitch before he swallows, watches some of the anger slip and his shoulders relax as he crosses his arms over his chest. It's the best answer Jared's going to get and he knows it.

"Okay," Jared says, letting out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "Okay, so here's... it wasn't-- when I started-- look, I didn't want to invade your privacy. I mean-- well, I sort of did. Obviously. But, not like how you're thinking, alright? I just... well, that day I bought you the bed, I accidentally found something and I didn't--"

"You found something," Jensen says, voice sharp as he interrupts Jared.

"Yeah, I-- it just fell out of one of the boxes."

Jensen arches a single eyebrow, unconvinced and definitely thoroughly unamused.

"No, seriously," Jared insists. "The box was open and I just-- I dropped it on accident and the stuff kinda... fell out." He holds up the magazine in his hand half-heartedly and tries for a weak sort of smile, though it mostly just feels awkward and wrong. "This."

The expression on Jensen's face betrays nothing for a long moment and Jared sighs and decides to start in again. He has a lot to explain here.

"I was--"

"So, what, that dropped out and suddenly I'm Boy freakin' George?"

"No," Jared says immediately, but it's reflex more than actual truth. "I mean-- Well, there was also that copy of Steel Magnolias--"

Jensen actually laughs then, loud and almost harsh and Jared's suddenly a little terrified because he's not sure how funny it actually is. It helps him relax though, helps him keep going, sure that maybe now he can actually better explain himself.

"It just-- it made me curious, you know? And then... well, I talked to Sandy and--"

"You talked to Sandy?"

Jared flinches, already mentally kicking himself for letting that one out. "I was just-- I needed advice man, and it's not like I could really go to anyone else."

"Yeah, God forbid you ask me instead of just deciding to go through my shit. I mean, seriously, come on, man. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Up until this point, Jared's been on the defensive, but right then something snaps and shatters and he takes in a quick breath as he advances on Jensen. "I talked to Sandy because I didn't know how to ask, okay?" he says, practically shouting it. "I found the-- that thing in your nightstand and the lube and I kept thinking about it and I couldn't figure it all out and I just-- I needed someone to talk to about it. Fuck."

"You couldn't-- are you fucking kidding me, Jared?" Jensen balks, that anger coming back full force and they're so close now that Jared swears he can smell the lasagna from craft services on Jensen's breath. "I mean, I know you're pretty stupid sometimes, but you know how to fucking Google, dude. What do you mean you couldn't figure it out?"

Jared feels his face go red, but he's too far gone to care now, too ramped up, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"I couldn't figure out why I kept thinking about you, you asshole! With that-- with the thing. And it--"

Again, Jensen cuts him off with a laugh, loud and short and bitter. "Yeah, well I'm not paying your therapy bills for that one, man. It's your own fucking fault."

"That's not what I meant--"

A honk from outside interrupts him this time and Jared unleashes a groan of frustration just as Jensen shoots him a look, sharp but relieved. "Cab," he says and he's already shouldering past Jared for the door.

"Jensen--"

Jared's hand is nearly on Jensen's elbow, fingertips just brushing the fabric of his jacket when Jensen spins around and swats him away, points a single finger at him, his eyes narrowed. "Don't."

The door doesn't slam this time, but Jared doesn't feel like it's much of an improvement.

:::

After their twelfth useless take, Jared's pretty sure Kim's going to kill them both. On any other day, it'd be funny because, on any other day, going past a handful of takes can largely be attributed to Jared getting stuck in a laughing fit or Jensen being unable to get through his lines without tripping over his tongue. But, nobody's laughing today and Jensen's been spot-on every time, at least as far as saying the lines goes. But, it's not connecting, it's not hitting and everyone can feel it, not just their director.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Jared shoves his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and tips his head back. Kim's already on his way over and Jared doesn't even have to look to know that the guy's rubbing a hand over his tired face.

"We're burning film here, boys," he says, standing between the two of them and Jared kicks at the dirt before he finally meets Kim's eyes, feeling more than a little bit like a scolded five year old.

"Yes, Sir," is Jensen's only reply and Jared doesn't even shoot him a glance.

"Think you need a break?"

Neither of them say a word. A break's not going to cut it and he knows it, knows Jensen knows it. A break is just enough time to take a piss, grab something from catering, check voicemails and hockey scores and maybe get in a good joke or two from Randy. Skipping all that, a break is usually just enough time to jerk off if there's the need. It's definitely not enough time to repair an entire friendship.

"Fifteen minutes," Kim says, but he doesn't sound happy about it.

Kim gives them both a sharp look with his sharp, beady eyes and then leaves. Jared exhales, glances briefly over his shoulder to see just how many people are giving them surreptitious glances before turning his attention to Jensen who shrugs like it's nothing, like it's any other day, like it's any other break in filming and not one enforced because neither of them can get their fucking acts together. Jared's eyes narrow as he watches Jensen casually stroll away and two seconds later, he's stalking after him, his hand hooking around Jensen's elbow and tugging.

"What the--" Jensen's elbow connects hard with Jared's side, other arm flailing around to try and grab at Sam's jacket, but Jared only tightens his hold and drags Jensen bodily toward his trailer, practically manhandling him up the stairs, which only manages to make Jensen even more irate. Jared's slamming the trailer door behind him when Jensen manages to get a grip on the front of Sam's jacket and yank, his other hand grappling and shoving ineffectually. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

"We need to talk," Jared says and surprises even himself with how collected he sounds, his voice calm and cool. Still channeling Sam, he figures which, in this case, may actually help him if it doesn't end up just pissing Jensen off further.

"No," Jensen replies, quick and definitive and Jared thinks he's not the only one carrying around his inner Winchester right now. "No talking, Jared. We have fifteen minutes to get our shit toge--"

Jared's mouth is on Jensen's before he can finish, one hand clamped to the back of Jensen's neck, holding him there, right in place, not touching anywhere else except for mouth to mouth. It's nothing he's planned, hadn't been his intention at all when he'd dragged Jensen in here, but for about three seconds that simultaneously seem to go on forever and end in a blink, Jared's sure it's the best thing he's ever done. Especially when Jensen's lips part in a startled and indignant gasp, giving Jared just the opportunity to taste, his tongue flicking out, swiping Jensen's bottom lip, dry and very slightly chapped.

And, for a second, Jared swears he can feel Jensen relax, swears he can feel Jensen actually start to kiss back, but then Jensen's hands are between them, against his chest and shoving and Jared stumbles back with an embarrassing sound of disappointment.

Jensen's standing hunched in front of him, defensive, lips drawn in a sneer.

Breathing a little hard, Jared offers a smile, weak and bitterly apologetic. "You said no talking," he says as he lifts a hand to wipe at the side of his mouth

Jensen only answers with a glare.

They manage another five takes before Kim calls it a lost cause and, somewhere deep down, Jared feels guilty about it. Mostly though, he can't stop thinking about how Jensen had tasted.

:::

"I've revised my opinion."

"... Huh?"

"Jensen. I don't think he's gay. I mean, I found a picture of Ryan that would pretty much totally solidify it, but I kissed him today and he didn't--"

"Jared, it's two in the morning," Sandy says, sounding tired and more than a little exasperated.

Blinking, Jared stops short, glances down at the watch on his wrist, does the math and then swears quietly under his breath. "Shit, sorry. I wasn't-- forgot you're in New York... Hey, look, I'll just call you back tomorrow. I'm sorry."

"Did you really kiss him?"

Jared's already got the phone a few inches from his ear when he catches that and, for a split second, he's tempted to pretend he didn't hear it at all. But, this is Sandy and he's just been a complete jackass and woken her up in the middle of the night, so the least he can do is answer the question, however embarrassing it might be.

"Uhm," he starts, cringing at the memory, of the wild-eyed,thoroughly pissed-off look in Jensen's eyes. "Yeah. It didn't go well."

"Did he hit you or just not kiss back?"

It probably says something that Jared's not entirely sure how to answer that, but he gives it his best shot. "Didn't hit me, but I think he wanted to. We were sort of on set though, so..."

"You kissed him on set?"

"Trailer. In his trailer."

"Oh." She actually almost sounds sympathetic, which Jared is kind of grateful for even if he has no idea why Sandy of all people would be sympathetic towards him. Then again, it's Sandy. So. "Well, it doesn't... you know, that doesn't mean he's not gay, Jared."

"Yeah," Jared replies, because he knows that. He does. He's been mulling over it for the past however many hours, trying to balance Jensen's violent rejection with the things Jared's found in his room, all the little (and not-so-little) pieces of evidence that point in one very blatant direction, and there's really only one explanation that makes sense.

Jared just... doesn't like it much.

He hears Sandy's quiet sigh and rests his forehead on his hand when she murmurs a quiet, "I'm sorry, baby," in his ear.

:::

The next day is more of the same, albeit even more awkward somehow. Jared hadn't honestly thought that could be possible. But, the problem is the entire damn crew now knows something's wrong and the atmosphere's all jacked up because of it. People keep shooting him looks, little sideways glances whenever Jensen's nearby, like if they manage to get too close to each other something between them will spontaneously ignite and take out everyone and everything within in a twelve foot radius.

To be fair, it doesn't feel all that different to Jared either.

They both manage to stay as professional as possible, but that's all it is. They show up to do their jobs, say their lines, jump and shout and shoot on cue and go home. The humor's all gone, the pranks and the jokes and the claps on the backs.

At the end of the day, they both crawl into the SUV, but, Jared's the only one who crawls out when they reach the house.

"Hey," Jensen says just as Jared's about to shut the door. It's the first thing Jensen's said to them since they left the set and Jared's eyebrows raise in surprise. "You got plans this weekend?"

That's about the last question Jared's expecting and he feels his stomach leap into his throat in excitement. Maybe Jensen's not gay for him, but he can be okay with that. Hell, he's been more than okay with that for years, so he can be okay with it again. He can live with it so long as everything else between them is just like it'd been before.

"There's that boxcar thing on Sunday," Jared says, a smile starting to creep to his lips before he can stop it.

"Oh, right. Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, no. Just lazin' around."

Jensen only answers with a nod and Jared notices he's not smiling, notices him fidgeting. He suddenly has a really bad feeling about this.

"Found a place," Jensen tells him and Jared doesn't find it surprising at all, but that doesn't stop the lead weight that drops into his stomach. "Already got a couple people helping me out, but just thought you should know."

"Right. Yeah."

"Great."

"Yeah, I'll, uh... see you tomorrow then."

Jared doesn't wait to hear if Jensen says anything after that, just shuts the door and heads up the walk to his place, the teeth of his key digging into his palm.

:::

It's like the finality of Jensen's news makes something break. At least on set. Things still aren't back to normal, but there's a balance of sorts now that hasn't been there in weeks. Cliff senses it in the car that morning, Kim notices it after one take, the rest of the crew feel it and Jared... well, Jared kind of hates it, but he's willing to concede that it's better than getting punched in the face.

They pull off the last few scenes with minimal difficulty and actually manage to get everything wrapped two hours ahead of schedule. Any other week and Jared would be ecstatic about getting out early and already intent on planting his and Jensen's ass in the nearest bar or in front of the nearest PlayStation to celebrate. But, this week it's different and Jared can only manage a weak smile and a "See you fuckers bright and early Monday" before shoving himself in the back corner of the SUV, head propped against the cool glass of the window. Kurt's keeping the engine idling while they wait for Jensen and Jared nearly opens his mouth to wonder aloud how much gas they're gonna sit there wasting when Jensen hauls himself in.

Their eyes meet briefly and Jared forces a quick, if strained smile, one that hopefully gives away nothing before turning his head to look out the window again. They may be off early for a Friday night, but it's still already dark out; he can't really see a whole lot, but he's damn sure gonna make it all seem endlessly fascinating.

Jared's house is still the first stop and forty minutes later, they're pulling into the driveway. He snaps off his belt and slides against the back seat, only noticing as he reaches for the door handle that Jensen's doing the same.

"Have a good night, fellas," Jensen says as Jared stumbles out of the car. "Tell Mindy and Shane hi for me, will you, Kurt?"

"Sure thing. See you tomorrow?"

Jared slides a glance to Jensen in time to see the briefest hesitation. "Yeah, yeah. 'Round ten or so, that'd be awesome. Thanks, guys."

"See you then, Jensen. Later, Jared!"

It's pure instinct that has Jared lifting a hand in a wave goodbye because his brain sure as hell hasn't caught up to the party yet. Cliff gives an answering wave from the passenger's seat before Jared turns to see Jensen already unlocking the front door and opening it carefully so as not to let out the two very excited dogs behind it. Their barks effectively knock Jared out of his cloud, but he's still no less confused as he hurries to catch up, following Jensen inside.

"Hey guys, miss me?" Jensen's tone is downright chipper, Sadie and Harley both wiggling happily and trailing after him into the living room like he holds all the answers to the universe and everything, like he's the only thing they've been aching to see for days. In a way, Jared can sympathize, but at the moment, he's bewildered and, frankly, starting to get a little pissed off.

By the time he gets to the kitchen, Jensen's already letting the dogs out, which is only weird because he's never really done that before. It hasn't been a rule or anything, at least not a spoken one. It's just that they're Jared's dogs and Jared's responsibility and Jared likes being the one to take care of them, the one to feed and bathe them and let them out when they need it. It's such a small, stupid thing, but it's been one hell of a long week and Jared's suddenly confused that he doesn't know his watch from his ass anymore and he snaps.

"You wanna tell me what the hell's goin' on, man?"

Jensen, fucking impassive as ever, barely looks at him as he heads to the fridge. "Live here, don't I?" he asks and Jared watches, still thoroughly confused as Jensen fishes out two Buds, opens one and takes a quick pull. And, it's not a little infuriating that, even now, Jared can't help but take a moment to appreciate the way Jensen's adam's apple bobs when he swallows.

"You--" he starts, stumbling from the distraction before finding his footing again, lips pressing into a thin line. "No. What? I mean-- you said you're moving out. Tomorrow, Jensen. Why the fuck are you even here?"

Jensen only finishes swallowing his gulp of beer and flashes an enigmatic smile that makes him look all of about six years old before making his way into the living room, kicking his shoes off on the way and dropping into the couch. "Come on, I think the Rangers game's on tonight. Bet we can catch the last couple innings."

"Dude," Jared says and there must be something in his tone that manages to get Jensen's attention this time, makes him turn around, one eyebrow arched. The problem is that Jared doesn't know what to say after that, doesn't have any idea how to piece together any of these signals Jensen's throwing at him to make any kind of picture, doesn't even know where to fucking start. So, all he can manage is a mute flail in Jensen's general direction, coupled with a quick, almost hysterical laugh. "What the hell is going on?" he finally barks out and it's a good thing Jensen hadn't opened the beer bottle given the way Jared's suddenly swinging it around. "You've been pissed at me all fucking week, man, which, yeah, okay. I get it. I mean, you didn't give me any room to explain or anything, but whatever. I get it. And then you were all, 'I'm moving out!' and now... what, we're best buddies again? Are you fucking bi-polar or something?"

"What do you need to explain, Jay?" Jensen asks, crossing his arms over his chest, beer still held protectively in one hand, the facade of indifference finally dropping to the side. "You found what you were looking for, didn't you? You learned my 'Big Fucking Secret.'" Jensen raises his hands to make bunny rabbit ears with his fingers that, any other time, Jared would've totally made fun of him for. "So now what? You wanna give me a hug and tell me it's all gonna be okay? Wanna hold my hand while I hold a press conference and announce it to the world? Wanna co-headline a GLBT fundraiser with me? Because, no offense, Jay, but fuck that shit."

"That's not-- no," Jared finally manages to force out, flustered by the fact that Jensen's just basically admitted to it all. Not in so many words maybe, but that's not surprising. It's out there. Jensen's gay. Jensen's gay. Jared doesn't know whether to feel elated or fucking terrified.

"Then why--"

"I was just curious, okay? I didn't-- I wasn't looking that first time, I didn't expect--"

"You could've just asked me!"

Jared lets out a harsh snort. "Right, because you've just been clamoring to tell me over the past three fuckin' years."

"Believe it or not, Jared, I don't have to tell you absolutely everything!" Jensen shoots back, taking a step forward, shoulders hunched for attack and, once again, Jared's reminded of Dean, wonders how much of this right here, right now, is a performance. If any of it is.

Maybe it's just wishful thinking.

"It's not everything," Jared replies, his voice going quieter, though he's not backing away at all, facing Jensen head on. "Look, man, I know your sex life isn't any of my business, okay? And I'm not trying to get any details or... or force you to come out. That's... seriously, dude, that never even crossed my mind."

Jensen doesn't say anything, but Jared notices that the muscles in Jensen's shoulders relax slightly and he stands up a little straighter, holding the half-empty bottle of beer closer to his chest, still watching Jared carefully.

"I fucked up," he continues because this, he knows he needs to get out more than anything, "and I'm really sorry, alright? It was stupid and invasive and, you know, I don't blame you if you don't trust me at all right now. It was a really really shitty thing to do." Jensen's still not saying a word and Jared's starting to find it more and more unnerving, but he knows they're not done yet. Or, he's not done yet, anyway. He swallows and then clears his throat a little, watching Jensen more carefully before he manages the next part. "And, it'd really suck if you moved out just because I'm an idiot."

"Knew it was a bad idea from the beginning."

Jared can't help a slight wince at that, but he laughs, too, quiet and awkward, looks down at the still unopened bottle of beer in his hand. He'd all but begged Jensen to move in with him and, at the time, he'd had no ulterior motive for it. Of course, now he wonders if that's really true, if maybe subconsciously, there'd been something else.

Not that Jensen knows that or ever needs to.

Clearing his throat, Jared shoves those thoughts aside for the moment and moves to grab the bottle opener from where Jensen's left it on the counter. "So, where's your new place anyway?" he asks, feigning normalcy to some extent as he pops the cap off his beer and tips his head back for a drink.

"Yeah, uhm, about that," Jensen replies and Jared watches him give a quick, awkward laugh. "I kinda lied."

The beer trips somewhere in Jared's throat and he lets out a cough as a frown tugs at his lips. "Huh? Then where..."

"Hotel. The prices drop if you rent by the month, not a bad deal."

"Jensen..."

"Dude, it's not for that long. I'll find something."

That's not really the point, though, as far as Jared's concerned, though he's starting to wonder just what the point is anymore. "What about your stuff?"

"Storage unit."

"What-- are you fucking kidding me?" And Jared's laughing now, loud and straight from the belly because it's just completely fucking ridiculous. The whole situation. It's ridiculous and stupid and it'd be kind of hilarious if the core of it didn't make Jared's insides twist so uncomfortably. "Do you seriously hate me that much?"

"I don't hate you, Jared. Jesus."

"Fine, so you've just lost all trust in me completely then, that it?"

Jensen arches an eyebrow and for a moment, Jared doesn't think he's going to answer at all. But, then Jensen says, "You know, the drama queen thing really doesn't suit you," and Jared lips twitch before he breaks into another laugh.

"Oh, that's fucking rich considering you're the--"

"Dude, you call me a queen and I will fucking beat you to death with this bottle, I'm not even kidding."

Unsure whether or not Jensen is kidding, Jared's laughter cuts off a little abruptly and he coughs to cover up the subsequent awkward silence.

"Look, just give me a chance, alright?" Jared says finally, his smile slipping away completely and he can only hope that he's putting on his best earnestly sincere face. He's pretty sure he is, he's practiced it enough. Plus, it helps that he is genuinely earnestly sincere at the moment. "If you want to keep looking for another place, that's cool, I get it. But, it's stupid for you to pay for a hotel and a damn storage unit in the meantime. Just stay. Please?"

There's another silence and Jared watches Jensen purse his lips in thought and manages to exercise extreme restraint in regards to not completely losing his focus. And then Jensen looks up again, meets Jared's eyes, still not looking completely convinced. "You're gonna be okay with the, uh... the gay thing?"

Relief, however small, pulses through Jared and he lets out a quick laugh as he nods. "Never had a problem to begin with, dude. Like I said, I was just curious."

Jensen continues to study him for a moment before finally giving a short nod. "'Kay," he says and tips his head back to swallow down another drink of his beer. "Well, you wanna call for a pizza or something, I'm fucking starving. I'll let the mutts back in."

Jared watches him go, a smile threatening to shatter his face and he's already reaching for his phone when he hears Jensen call from the other room, "And grab me another beer!"

:::

It's well after midnight and Jared's sprawled out on the couch, pleasantly full of pizza and beer and more than a few Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Harley's asleep on his right foot, a warm, furry weight and Jared blinks his eyes open to see Sadie asleep near the chair Jensen's curled up in, the end credits to the second Lethal Weapon movie rolling over the television set.

"Hey," he calls over, voice quiet and sleep-drugged as he shifts on the couch, pushing himself up. It gets Sadie's attention first, her head perking up as Jared rubs a hand across his face and reaches for the remote to flip off the television. The room plunges into quiet darkness and Jared sits up straighter, rolls his shoulders and stretches his back while Harley rises up to do the same.

The recliner Jensen's occupying is stretched out to its full capacity and Jared can't help but grin at the way Jensen's completely conked out, head turned away at an angle that will definitely leave him with a crick in his neck if he stays that way too much longer. For a long moment, Jared can only stare, Jensen's face shadowed by the dim light filtering in from outside, making everything soft and kind of surreal. He's struck mostly by how young Jensen looks, completely at peace and oddly vulnerable. Jared has to actively resist the impulse to reach out and touch, to graze the back of a finger down Jensen's stubbled jawline or brush his thumb along that bottom lip.

Instead, he rests his hand on Jensen's shoulder, the cotton warm under his touch and hardly a substitute for what Jared would rather be touching instead.

"Hey, come on," he says, shaking Jensen gently until there's an audible shift in Jensen's breathing pattern and he makes a sound in the back of his throat, brow furrowing and eyes squinting open.

How Jensen can look completely gorgeous and also sort of stupid at the same time, Jared has no idea, but it effectively knocks aside some of his self control and he pushes his fingers through Jensen's hair. The strands aren't nearly long enough to really grip, but Jared gives his best impression of a tug all the sameand then playfully shoves him again.

"You planning on campin' out down here?" he asks, all smirking nonchalance as Jensen swats at his receding hand.

Jensen manages to sit up a little and shove his legs down, thrusting the recliner back into its chair position, Sadie managing to scramble out of the way just in time. "Time is it?"

"Almost one," Jared answers after giving the clock on the DVD player a glance.

"Fuck, we're gettin' old," Jensen replies, but he gets to his feet then and stretches, his shirt riding up just high enough for Jared to get a glimpse of stomach before he forces himself to look away.

He turns to gather up the small mound of empty beer bottles on the table, dropping them into the empty pizza box and carrying it towards the garage. "Hey, don't forget to call the guys," he says after he crams the whole load into the trash just outside the door.

Jensen still hasn't moved from his spot in the living room when Jared makes his way back. "The guys?"

"Cliff and Kurt and whoever."

"Oh. Right. Shit." Jensen's sleepy expression slips into a concentrated frown and Jared can only watch, amused for a second. "Yeah, I should do that."

"Maybe when it's not one in the morning."

Jensen blinks and looks over at Jared, eyes still bleary and unfocused before he nods. "Yeah. Okay." Jared almost wonders if something's wrong, but Jensen's already turning and heading soundlessly toward his bedroom. The door clicks quietly shut behind him and Jared takes a slow breath and goes to let the dogs out one last time.

:::

Now that it's not a secret anymore and they're kind of okay again, Jared just sort of assumes Jensen will start talking about the whole gay thing. Not in detail or anything, but just... an anecdote here and there or an offhand comment about an old boyfriend or a mention of a date or something. He sets up prime opportunities wherever he can, mentioning how Sandy had gone on a date the other week in the hopes that it might prompt Jensen into talking about his own dating history, maybe even get him to open up about what went down with Ryan since he gets the impression that there's more to it than him just deciding to move back to LA. Except, it actually twists into Jared talking about how he feels about Sandy going out with another guy for five minutes until Jared realizes he really doesn't want to talk about it at all and quickly brings up how badly he wants to see the new DeNiro and Pacino movie. Later, he makes up a story about how he caught a male reporter pointedly checking Jensen out during the boxcar race, but that only gets him a disinterested grunt and a sharp look. When he brings up that he's heard a rumor Mehkal and Andrew, two of the interns on set, are an item, Jensen ignores him completely, his brow furrowing in fevered concentration as he plays his PSP.

After that, Jared pretty much gives up.

:::

It's Jared's very firm belief that Liam should have a birthday every single day of the year. Or at least a birthday party. Just like this one. With lots and lots and lots of beer. And really loud music. And chips. And cake. Also, strippers. Not that this particular party has strippers, but Jared figures it sure as hell couldn't hurt. Both male and female, all the women with dark hair and small, petite frames and great tits; all the men with green eyes and broad shoulders and narrow hips. And they'd all strip just for Jared and nobody else. And Jared would completely ignore Chris Rock's advice and have as much sex in the Champagne Room as possible because there'd be no fucking Champagne Room to begin with. Not that kind of party.

It's quite possible that Jared is really fucking drunk right now. He might also be a little high and that is all Liam's fault. The birthday boy. Definitely.

"This is all your fault."

There's a crunch as Liam stuffs a chip into his mouth. "Mmm? What is?" he asks, wiping at his mouth and reaching past Jared for another. There's a steady beat resounding all around them, the bass of a song that Jared's sure is familiar, but he's not really focusing enough at the moment to recognize it. Half the party's gone home for the night already, but Jared's determined to take full advantage of the next morning's uncharacteristically late call time. "Fuck, what do they put in these things, man, salted crack?"

Liam's new this season, a recent graduate of USC's film school, which makes him good-looking in that sun-bleached-blond-and-much-smarter-than-he-looks way which is not really Jared's type at all (the bleached blond part, not the smart part), but after fifty or so beers, Jared isn't really sure he has a type anymore. Unless that type is someone willing and able to suck him off. And, he thinks Liam might be that type; he has really nice lips. Not as nice as Jensen's, but Jensen's not interested in him anyway. And Liam's been kind of attached to him for the past half hour now, pressed right up along his side even though Jared knows there's more than enough space on the couch to spread out. He's not complaining though because Liam's warm and friendly and smells kinda nice.

Okay. So, maybe it's not just a gay-for-Jensen thing. Good to know.

Jared's suddenly starting to lose his train of thought and his brow furrows. 'You're pretty hot,' is what he means to say. Or maybe, 'We should have sex." Because he's realizing right now that, not counting his right hand, he hasn't had sex since Sandy and that's way too long as far as he's concerned. (He and Sandy had fucked a couple times after the break-up and Jared's definitely counting those, they'd been incredible, but that still makes it well over a month.) And, yeah, maybe he's never had sex with a guy before and he should possibly think about that for awhile, but his brain is sort of not letting that happen. Like, at all.

As it turns out that's not a problem anyway because the words his currently alcohol-ridden brain chooses to form are, to his blinking amazement: "I think I'm half gay."

Liam has his hand on Jared's thigh, reaching for yet another chip with the other and he freezes immediately, head whipping around to look Jared straight-on.

For the first time that night, Jared notices that Liam's eyes are sort of blue-ish. Not a bad color, but again, not... something. Not quite right.

"Or maybe just forty percent," he amends then, but Liam still just blinks at him. For the first time that night, Jared's realizing that it's probably not a good idea to come out to a male (and likely straight) co-worker he only sort of knows, but would maybe like to see naked. In fact, it's probably a very bad idea.

Pulling his hand away from Jared's thigh, Liam sits up a little straighter. The guy's at least not running away in homophobic fear, so Jared figures he's lucking out so far. He takes another sip from his beer, watching Liam warily just out the corner of his eye.

"Dude, you're fuckin' wasted," Liam says, but he doesn't sound disgusted or even disturbed, really. Sounds... something else. Amused, definitely. Maybe interested, too. Or, maybe Jared's just really drunk and totally projecting.

He lets out a quick laugh and nods. "Yeah," he agrees, but then immediately starts shaking his head. "But, you shouldn't-- I know I'm, like, really drunk right now, but you-- this is just between you and me, right? We're, like... we're buddies, right? You and me? And this is our... I mean, I'm not, really..." He trails off into another snort, lips quirked into a smirk before he tips his head back to finish off his beer, swallowing harshly and then wipes at his mouth with the inside of his wrist. "I'm not that. Psh. Whatever, dude. Just between you and me... I'm-- whatever. Maybe."

Liam's full-out grinning at him now and Jared can't help but return it. Liam's eyes are actually pretty nice even if it's kinda fuzzy and blurry. Not green. And that's good. That's really... yeah, that's really good.

Jared's thought process sort of fizzles out then as he reaches to curl his hand around the back of Liam's neck and pulls him down, lips meeting, wet and completely uncoordinated. It doesn't even occur to Jared that Liam might not kiss him back and he's proven right when he feels the slick press of Liam's tongue pushing into his mouth. He tastes like beer and barbecue and salt and maybe a little bit like onion and it's rough and hot and nothing at all like kissing a girl. Liam has his hand on Jared's chest, fingers curled in the fabric of his t-shirt and Jared groans, tightens his own grip as he opens his mouth wider, wanting more, the butt of his beer bottle digging into his thigh where it's pressed between them, two fingers outstretched to touch Liam's shirt in turn, feeling the warm muscle underneath.

And he's just about to take the whole thing a step further when there's a sharp thwap against the back of his head and the sound he makes is decidedly embarrassing. He breaks the kiss, breathless and confused, head craning back to see... oh. Well, shit.

At least it's not, like, Kripke or someone. Could be a helluva lot worse.

"Time to go, Jay." Jensen's practically hovering over them, the look he's giving them reminding Jared way too much of his mother.

Actually, that's kind of funny and Jared lets out another quick sputter of a laugh, his mouth still tingling, though his gaze is entirely focused on Jensen. "Dude, I'm fine. Me and Liam... we're good. Right, Liam?" Still grinning, he drops his head to look at Liam, but Liam's not looking at him. At all. Jared's smile falters.

"Jared. Now. Cab's outside."

Somehow, Jared doesn't believe Jensen and kind of wants to call him on it, but then he feels a rough, determined grip on the collar of his shirt and he's scrambling just to avoid getting choked.

"Jesus," he half yelps, reaching up to smack Jensen's hand away, dropping his empty beer bottle in the process. "Ain't a fuckin' dog, man. Lay off." Again, he tries to catch Liam's gaze, but the whole room is spinning slightly as Jared rests precariously on the edge of the couch. "Hey," he says, finally grabbing Liam's attention. There's a tinge of red in the guy's cheeks that Jared's not sure he'd noticed before. Probably from all the alcohol, he figures.

But, before he can say anything, Liam's getting to his feet and shaking his head with an awkward smile. "Look, I'll catch you tomorrow or something, yeah?"

"Or something," Jared hears Jensen say from behind him before Jared can manage to answer for himself, his tone ice cold.

Scowling, Jared finally manages to push himself to his feet, wavering just a little once he gets there. The floor seems a long, long ways away now and he's suddenly very aware of just where he is and how many people are still around. More than he'd thought. Doesn't look like all that many are paying attention to them, luckily, but he's still-- well, he's kinda pissed. He presses a hand to his spinning head and mutters darkly, "Thanks for the fucking cockblock, asshole."

Jensen roughly grabs hold of Jared by the bicep and half shoves him towards the door. "You can thank me tomorrow."

:::

Tomorrow, it turns out, comes way too soon and way too bright and, for the first time in about two and a half years, Jensen's the one dragging Jared out of bed with a bottle of Gatorade and an Alka Seltzer in hand.

"Kurt's gonna be here in twenty, Jared. Move it." Jensen's tone is all business as he walks back out, shutting the door behind him, presumably to give Jared some privacy.

Grumbling, Jared sits up, his temple immediately throbbing at the movement as he takes the proffered tablet. His mouth tastes like ass, or at least what he assumes ass might taste like and he smacks his lips with a grimace before tossing back the Alka Seltzer, chasing it down with a large swig of the grape-flavored Gatorade. It's a weird hangover remedy Josh had passed down to him, but it's always done the trick.

Twenty minutes is enough time for Jared to crawl in and out of the shower and more than enough time for him to remember the events of the night before. Or, at least some of them. He remembers talking to Liam and then kissing Liam -- and Jesus, is that gonna make the day awkward -- and remembers Jensen manhandling him out of the party. He remembers some of the ride back in the cab, but most of that's fuzzy and muted. How exactly he got out of his jeans and into his lounge pants, he doesn't know. Doesn't remember that part at all. Whether that's a good thing or not remains to be determined.

The hangover cure is already starting to work its magic by the time Jared makes it out to the car. He's only a couple minutes late, but Kurt gives him shit anyway. Probably because it's the first time in years that he can.

"Party too hard there, JareBear?" he says, eying him through the rear view mirror, voice loud enough to be heard over the music he's playing. The Killers, Jared thinks. Not bad.

Jared only flashes his brightest smile and pushes a hand through his still damp hair. "Don't hate just 'cause you're jealous, man. You only wish you could party like me and look this good the next morning."

Beside him, Jensen gives a snort and throws in his two cents: "Yeah, I'm sure Shannon's definitely gonna agree with you there."

Jared glances back to see Jensen sunk low in the back seat, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't look pissed exactly, but something's definitely off. Jared finds it more than a little unnerving, but figures now is really not the time to try and figure it out. "What're you talking about? Shannon loves me and my face."

He's answered with an eye roll, but there's a hint of a smile there, too and Jared relaxes somewhat.

Cliff reaches back from the passenger seat then and swats at Jared's arm with that week's script. "Scenes fourteen, twenty and twenty-six today," he says as Jared takes one and passes the other off to Jensen. "And, twenty-eight if there's time."

Jensen groans quietly behind him and Jared mentally does the same. This day is gonna kick their asses.

"Alrigh', let's do twenty," Jared decides, settling back and stretching his legs out as much as he can, getting comfortable. There's an answering grunt behind him and the sound of pages rustling as Jared starts in on Sam's dialogue.

:::

As expected, it's a long day and scene fourteen alone takes nearly seven hours to complete, leaving Jared sore and exhausted from shouting and being thrown into walls. However, it also has the upside of giving him very little time and energy to be awkward around Liam. They only make eye contact a time or too, quick and furtive before both looking away again. Jared manages to corner him on his way to catering, mostly wanting to just get the whole ordeal over with. Liam looks uncomfortable when Jared tugs him behind a trailer and, feeling guilty, he immediately drops his hand away.

"Sorry," he murmurs and puts on his best sheepishly apologetic smile. "Look, I just... I wanna apologize. 'Bout last night, I was really--"

"Hey, no. Seriously, it's fine," Liam quickly interjects and both Jared's eyebrows raise in question. "You were drunk. We both were. And I, uh... I've sorta... got someone. Back in San Diego."

"Oh," Jared replies, somehow relieved and a little disappointed both at once. Also surprised because Liam's been with them for a month now, they've talked a lot about all kinds of things, including family and significant others, and he knows for a fact that Liam's never mentioned a girlfriend before.

"Yeah," Liam says with a quick smile and a breath of a laugh. "So, you know. Shouldn't--"

"Yeah, no. Absolutely," Jared rushes to agree, brushing it off with a wave of his hand and a shrug. "It was just a-- thing. Beer, you know. And the chips."

Liam's laugh is quick and awkward again, and Jared watches him scratch the back of his neck before briefly glancing over his shoulder. "Great, so I'm... I gotta get back. Scene change."

Jared nods again and gives a wave as Liam hurries off, lips twisting into a deeper frown. His first actual attempt at the whole gay thing had obviously been a complete failure. And yeah, he'd been drunk and he could argue that Jensen completely ruined it, but he still feels like a jackass. Some of that might have to do with the fact that he still can't help but be relieved by the fact that Jensen had step in, especially considering where he'd been at the time. Coming out to one guy on set by making out with him is still preferable to coming out to nearly all of them by giving them a free show.

His stomach chooses that moment to remind him that it's still displeased with the lack of food its received in the past few hours and Jared takes a quick breath before heading back toward catering, letting the smell of chili lead his way.

:::

Jared's practically asleep on his feet by the time they make it home and he goes through the motions of depositing his keys and letting the dogs out and changing out of his jeans and t-shirt all on autopilot. It's when he's slipping into the same lounge pants he'd woken up in that he realizes that he's still no closer to knowing exactly what happened the night before. There's a part of him that's sure it's better that way, that really doesn't want to know what happened if only for the sake of his pride. There's another part sure that Jensen just dragged him up the stairs and dropped him into bed, maybe helped with the shoes, but otherwise let Jared handle it. Just because he doesn't remember anything, doesn't mean he wasn't capable or anything. After all, it's not like he was ever in any danger of drowning in his own vomit. He doesn't think.

The largest part, though, is still curious. Really curious.

He makes his way back down the stairs, every muscle aching and exhausted and heads down the hall to Jensen's room. Standing outside the closed door, Jared considers and reconsiders for a couple moments before steeling himself and finally knocking.

When Jensen answers, the first thing Jared notices is that he's already taken his contacts out, black-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. The second thing he notices is that Jensen's dressed only in a pair of dark blue boxer briefs that Jared recognizes from snooping in his dresser.

Suddenly, he's really not sure he can find his voice at all, much less have a full out discussion.

"Uhm," he says when Jensen just arches an eyebrow at him, quickly struggling to pull his shit together. "I, uh. Just wanted to ask you somethin' real quick."

Jensen nods. And then waits. And when Jared still can't say anything further, Jensen lets out a quiet laugh that could be either worry or irritation, and spreads his arms in a sign of surrender. "Dude, we gotta be up again in, like, five hours."

"Yeah, listen, last night--" Jared starts, and then hesitates again before pulling in a quick breath. Immediately, he can see Jensen start to tense up and it's almost enough to make him stop right there. But, he's come this far, time to grow the balls to finish it. "I don't-- Well, I remember some of it and, okay-- Yeah, first of all, I'm sorry I was such a jackass. Seriously. Had way more to drink than I was plannin' on and--"

"Okay, stop," Jensen says, voice firm but not angry and Jared's breath locks itself in his chest. "No need to thank me, alright? Not like I ain't ever been drunk before. What kinda buddy would I be if I'd just left you there, man?"

Jared manages a small smile at that, though strained, before shaking his head again and looking down at his feet. "Yeah, that's not... not really what I'm talking about." He hazards a wary glance back up at Jensen and crosses his arms over his chest, suddenly feeling bizarrely exposed. "You know Liam's got a girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend, actually," Jensen corrects him and Jared's brain stutters and has to restart again. "His name's is Eric. They're pretty serious." Jared hadn't thought of that before, that Liam could be with a guy and not a girl and that's a little unsettling, makes him briefly wonder if he has his own latent homophobia or something, though somehow he doesn't think it quite works that way.

"Oh, uh. Yeah, I didn't know 'til--"

"Dude, what were you even doing?" Jensen says gruffly and Jared blinks, feels himself suddenly slipping into defensive. "You're straight, Jared. Or did you miss that memo?"

And Jared snaps, just like that, taking a step closer to Jensen, crowding in and glaring down at him. "Did you miss the one where I fucking kissed you?" They haven't talked about it once since that day, but Jared sure as hell hasn't stopped thinking about it. Even if Jensen, absolutely livid, had pushed him away, it'd still been pretty fucking hot. Better than kissing Liam by a long shot. Jensen's eyes go wide and Jared can't tell anymore if he's still angry or just shocked or something else altogether. At the moment, he honestly doesn't care much either way. "Huh? Did you? Because, I don't know about you, but I think voluntarily kissing another guy makes me pretty fucking not straight."

And that apparently gets Jensen back in the ball game because he's suddenly stepping forward, eyes dark with anger and shoulders tense. "Look, I don't want to be a part of whatever sexual crises you're going through right now, Jared," Jensen says, voice cold and focused. "I'm done with that, got it? So, if you want to mess around with dick for awhile, be my guest, but it's not gonna be--"

Jared once again doesn't let Jensen finish, just wraps his hand around the guys shoulder and yanks, his mouth crushing against Jensen's, letting nothing else through but his tongue. Jensen fights it, lips tightly pressed together and every muscle tense. But, Jared's got both height and weight on his side and he's not letting go, not this time. Jensen's fist collides with Jared's chest, but it's not nearly hard enough of a hit to have any impact and Jared just twists with a grunt, his other hand reaching up to find the side of Jensen's neck, fingers splayed to hold him there. And then Jensen stops fighting and when Jared hears a groan a second or two later, he honestly doesn't know if it's from himself or from Jensen. Jensen's mouth doesn't taste anything like Liam's had, he tastes bacon and spearmint and cigarettes and something else underneath it, something better.

The touch of Jensen's hand to his bare side makes him gasp, effectively breaking the kiss, though he doesn't pull away completely, lips still parted and chest heaving. Jensen's eyes are wide behind his glasses, an expression there that Jared's not sure he's seen without a camera's involvement.

"Not straight," he whispers, the words half lost against Jensen's lips before he's chasing them with his tongue, shoving them into Jensen's mouth as his hand slides up to curl around to the back of Jensen's neck. The rim of Jensen's glasses dig into his cheek, but he doesn't really care, just lets out another groan when he feels Jensen's hands on his back, pulling him closer, bare chest to bare chest. "Really," he murmurs, the word muffled, "really not--" he's cut off by his own sharp moan when Jensen rocks his hips forward and Jared feels the hard press of Jensen's obvious arousal against his own. "Fuck. So not straight, Jesus, Jen--"

Jared has no idea how they manage to get from the door to the bed, but he's suddenly being turned and pushed down onto the mattress, Jensen climbing up onto him, their mouths never once parting except to suck down much-needed oxygen. It feels like an assault, Jared's lips bruised and swollen, but in the best way possible. He can't help but laugh, if only in amazement, overwhelmed by it all, by the hot, hard press of Jensen holding him down, the crush of their mouths and how fucking right it feels. His hands are scrambling, touching all the smooth and hard, bare skin he can possibly reach, greedy for it, palms sliding to hook around Jensen's narrow hips and pull him down closer. Jensen's legs are partially spread, straddling Jared's right thigh and when he arches, he can feel the hard length of Jensen's dick through his shorts and that alone is nearly enough to make his brain completely short circuit.

"Fuck, Jared." Apparently, it's nearly enough to do the same to Jensen, his voice broken and thready as his eyes slip shut.

Jared grins a little, heart hammering in his chest, as he slides a hand down over the slow rise of Jensen's ass, encouraging him to move, to rock against him, to use him. Sandy had done something similar, straddled his leg and rode him, got herself off against just that, just the friction and this doesn't feel completely different. Except that where Sandy'd been soft and wet, Jensen's hard and hot and heavy.

"C'mon," he mutters, teeth catching against Jensen's bottom lip as he reaches up with his free hand and pulls Jensen's glasses off. They fall somewhere to the floor, hopefully cushioned by the carpet, though Jared doesn't care enough to try and find out, and palms Jensen's face again, pulls him down for another kiss, harsh and demanding, body arching as Jensen presses down. There isn't any real rhythm to it, not yet, but Jared's really not complaining, his hand still gripping Jensen's ass, frustrated with the cotton that stands as a barrier between them.

"Jared," Jensen gasps against Jared's lips, but his eyes are still closed, dark lashes fanning against flushed cheeks and, fuck, Jared wants to taste them, taste every last one, every last inch, and his hips shove upward sharply, begging for the friction he's not getting.

But, Jensen seems to take it as a cue and ducks his head, nearly smashing Jared's nose with his skull in the process, Jared's fingers slipping over the fine hairs at the nape of Jensen's neck. But then Jensen's hand is on him, is fucking palming him through his pants and Jared's moan gets stuck in his throat, his entire body lighting up as he arches into it. "Oh, Jesus, I want--" he grunts, squeezes the flesh in his palm and then slides his hand upward, thumb catching in the waistband of Jensen's shorts. "Jen. Jensen. Fuck, let me."

What exactly he's asking for, he doesn't know. He wants skin, that much is certain, wants Jensen completely naked against him, wants his hand on Jensen's cock, wants to watch him come, wants to slide against the sweet slickness of sweat all over Jensen's body, wants-- "God, I want to fuck you."

It comes out a strained whisper, Jared's hips rocking upward again, but he knows Jensen hears it. Can tell by the way Jensen's grip suddenly tightens against him and then slips away to latch onto Jared's hip, by the way his body rocks forward once, twice more and than shudders, can tell by the way Jensen's dick pulses against his thigh, the warm liquid seeping through two layers of cotton. Jensen still has his head ducked, cheek pressed against Jared's collarbone and Jared actually thinks that kind of sucks because he wants to see Jensen's face, wants to know the exact shape of his lips when he lets go like that.

But, Jensen apparently has other plans and before Jared can manage to move at all, Jensen's shifting for him, sliding his hand from Jared's hip to his stomach and then downward, slipping under the waistband and wrapping tight around him. Jared's hips thrust upward instinctively, a sound pushing past his throat that maybe later he'll have the sense to be embarrassed about. Right now, though, shame is completely out of the question, absolutely everything narrowing down to the grip Jensen has on him, the rough slip-slide of his hand that falters when Jared presses up into it, rhythm all wrong, driven only by the desperate need for more, more, more.

"Jen," he grunts, the leg not currently trapped under Jensen's weight bending at the knee and spreading, heel pressing into the mattress for leverage as his entire back arches up off the bed. "Fuck, Jen, yeah." It's not-- it's not quite enough, though, not quite what Jared needs to reach that peak and Jensen seems to get that, body curving and bending and Jared blinks in surprise when he feels Jensen shove Jared's pants down enough to free his dick and he knows, fuck he knows what's happening next. "Jensen, you don't-- you-- oh, fuck."

All his objections, however weak they might've been, go flying out the window the second Jensen's lips are wrapped around him. His hips stutter in an effort to stay still, to not thrust into the perfect cavern of wet heat that surrounds him, sucks him down. His hands fumble, one settling on Jensen's back, the other palming the back of Jensen's head. There's nothing to grab onto, no long silky hair to curl his fingers in, but that doesn't stop Jared from trying, a ragged moan pulled from him as his hips move slightly. And Jensen just takes it, head bobbing, slicking Jared with spit, a hand wrapped around the root of him, jacking what Jensen's mouth can't reach. It doesn't take much more than that, just a flutter of Jensen's tongue against the ridge of his cockhead, fist pumping and he's there, hurdling over the edge with a shattered moan, struggling to keep his eyes open, wanting to see it. But, the curve of Jensen's body blocks his view and his head falls back, chest heaving as he sucks in air, cock still twitching feebly as he finishes emptying into Jensen's mouth.

"Oh my god," he manages when the last wave passes and then hisses at the feel of Jensen's tongue giving one last flick across overly sensitive skin. Weakly, he tugs at Jensen's shoulder, sticky with sweat, limbs loose and exhausted.

"We have call time in six hours," Jensen reminds him, voice hoarse and sounding about as worn out as Jared feels.

"Mmm," Jared agrees and reaches down, attempting to push his pants the rest of the way down with only one hand.

"Should get some sleep."

Grunting, Jared nods and then pulls away enough to wiggle free of his pants before rolling onto his side and tugging at Jensen's shorts. There's a wet spot covering the front and Jared doesn't even bother to suppress a growl as his fingers brush over it. Fuck, he did that, he made Jensen come in his shorts like a fucking teenager. If it hadn't been so fucking hot, Jared would totally be making fun of him until the end of time for something like that.

"Jared." Jensen's voice is sharper then and he has his hand wrapped firmly around Jared's wrist, stilling him. Jared finally looks up, his smile slipping when he notices that Jensen's not smiling back. Not even a little bit. "Go to bed."

Jared blinks, but doesn't remove his hand, a slow frown curving his lips as he realizes that all Jensen's walls, all the ones Jared had somehow managed to completely obliterate only seconds ago are rebuilding at alarming speed, blocking him out all over again. It doesn't seem right to feel a burn of anger so soon after completely coming his brains out, but he can't deny it, his eyes narrowing. "No," he answers and, a second later, knows it's absolutely the wrong move.

Jensen moves fast, shoving up and pushing Jared off, sending Jared toppling off the bed, though, in an amazing show of uncharacteristic balance, he manages to not end up on his ass.

"Dude, what the fuck is your problem?" Jared's suddenly livid and not a little humiliated, his legs still a sort of weak and rubbery under his weight as he rounds on Jensen.

"What's my problem?" Jensen shoots back, kneeling up on the bed, looking ridiculous with his soiled shorts and messed up hair and squinting eyes. "You've suddenly decided you like cock and I'm the one with the problem?"

"What the fuck makes you think it's sudden, Jensen? Just 'cause of Sandy? What, you don't think I had a sex life before she came along?"

"You've told me about your sex life!" Jensen spits back, every muscle in his body screaming with tension. "In great fucking detail. I think I would remember if you'd mentioned taking it up the ass at any point."

Jared can't argue that and he knows it. Because maybe this isn't exactly new, maybe Jared's had thoughts for awhile that he just didn't know what to do with, but it's definitely the first time he's really done anything about them. Not counting Liam.

"You know, two minutes ago, you didn't seem to mind all that much," is all he comes up with, but he thinks it's a pretty good point. Because Jensen had definitely been into it, there's no doubting that.

There's a flicker across Jensen's face then, an expression Jared can't quite put a name to, but it's gone just as quickly. "Go to bed, Jared," Jensen says again and there's a tired edge to his voice. His gaze staying locked with Jared's, a silent challenge for Jared to continue arguing and a silent plea for him not to at the same time.

Reluctantly, Jared finally relents, jaw twitching as he gives a gruff nod and then bends to swipe up his pants. He doesn't bother with a goodbye or a goodnight, just leaves, closing Jensen's door behind him with a click.

:::

It's obvious the next day that Jensen has no intention of discussing what they'd done the night before, which Jared doesn't find surprising in the least. In a way, he's glad for it. They have another tight schedule today, another grueling sixteen hours if they hope to get it all in the can before midnight. Jared throws himself into the work, into Sam and his fucked up mind and motivations, forces himself to see Dean and not Jensen whenever their eyes meet.

If anyone notices that he and Jensen are spending their breaks in separate trailers, no one mentions it.

The focus manages to pay off, Bobby calling it a wrap two hours ahead of schedule and Jared heads back to his trailer, peeling off the layers of Sam as he goes. Shannon takes care of cleaning off his make-up minutes later and then he drops Sam's clothes off at wardrobe before heading for the car where Kurt and Cliff are waiting. They're both discussing Favre's future as a Jet, an issue on which Jared would ordinarily be eager to share his opinion, but he lacks the energy today, choosing instead to doze and listen idly as they wait for Jensen.

He has no idea how much time has passed before he hears the door open and then shut, feels the engine kick on. His eyes flicker open just enough to catch Jensen settling into the seat in front of him, his gaze catching on the way the moonlight casts shadows across his face. Kurt has the music on low enough that Jared can't make it out, but he's not really trying to, his focus entirely on Jensen in that moment.

Gravel and dirt crunch under the tires as Kurt drives them away and Jared catches Jensen glancing back at him. It's obvious by the way Jensen's gaze catches and locks on Jared's that he hadn't been expecting to find Jared looking back. Neither of them say a word, but it's definitely the closest thing to a conversation they've had all day. Jensen's the first to look away, Jared watching him long after and then letting out a soft breath and tipping his head back again, the gentle rocking of the car lulling him into sleep.

The next time his eyes open, it's to find that they're just pulling into Jared's neighborhood. He stares sleepily, the side of his head pressed against the cool pane of glass as they pass familiar yards and street signs before slowly sitting up and rolling his shoulders back, working out the slight crick in his neck. When they pull up to his driveway, Jensen slides out first and Jared follows silently. The goodbyes are more subdued than normal, the long week wearing on everyone. Jared thumps a friendly fist twice against the roof of the car and then steps back, tossing Kurt and Cliff a wave as he heads towards the front door.

As per normal, the dogs are there to greet them, but they seem to sense both Jared and Jensen's exhaustion and keep their normal excited wiggling to a minimum. Jared drops his keys on the table by the door and heads to let Sadie and Harley out, stopping in the kitchen afterward to grab a beer. His plans for the rest of the evening include camping out in front of the television for the next hour or two, likely to fall asleep on the couch to the sounds of Sports Center or old Nick-at-Nite re-runs unless he can find a decent movie playing on HBO. But, Jensen's standing at the fridge when Jared gets there and Jared decides on a minor change in plans.

"So, I guess we're not gonna talk about this," he says when Jensen straightens up and closes the door of the refrigerator, a bottle of Corona in hand. The look Jensen shoots him is all the answer Jared needs and nothing he hadn't expected. He shrugs loosely and shoves a hand in his pocket, but takes a step closer. "Hey, look, it's cool. We don't have to."

Jensen frowns then, tilts his head up like he thinks Jared's challenging him which, actually, Jared thinks is pretty fair. "Good," he says, voice sounding slightly rough. "Glad we agree on that one, Jare."

"Don't wanna talk," Jared assures him again, a slow grin beginning to tug at his lips. He doesn't know where he's finding the nerve or the energy to say this, but he's going with it, riding it like he had just the night before, going by instinct alone. Another step closer and he's officially invading Jensen's personal space.

"Jared..." Jensen's voice is a warning, low and faintly threatening, but Jared ignores it, shaking his head as he continues backing Jensen up against the fridge.

"No talking," he says one last time, quieter still as he lifts a hand, thumb brushing along the faint stubble of Jensen's jaw.

It's almost exactly like that time in Jensen's trailer except completely different. The air is just as charged, tension thrumming between them, emanating off every inch of Jensen's skin, but the anger's gone, replaced by something else entirely. To Jared, it feels like anticipation, though he has no idea what Jensen's making of it.

When Jared realizes that Jensen isn't pulling away, he finally seizes what he wants, closing that final gap between them to press their lips together. It's softer than any of the kisses they've shared so far and it goes against Jared's every impulse to not immediately press it deeper. It's not nearly enough, not even close to what all he wants, but he forces himself to stay in check, lips gentle and coaxing, encouraging Jensen to let him in. Jared's only a little surprised to find that it works, Jensen's head tipping up into it, kissing back, slow and tentative, dry and soft.

Jared's the first to break it, letting out a quick, soft laugh, his hand splayed along Jensen's cheek, thumb lightly brushing along Jensen's bottom lip when he pulls back.

"Gonna show you," he promises, a whisper against the corner of Jensen's mouth before letting himself nudge one last kiss.

It takes every ounce of willpower he has to pull away then, but he's all smiles when he notices the wide-eyed look on Jensen's face. Stepping back, he clears his throat and then nods at the space just beyond Jensen's shoulder. "You, uh... I need to get a beer, man."

Jensen blinks and then roughly coughs, like he's working to come out of a trance before giving a stilted nod and moving out of the way. Jared can only smirk as he reaches for the fridge door, head turned to watch Jensen head for the living room.

:::

True to his word, Jared doesn't bring it up again that night. Doesn't bring it up the following day either and slowly Jensen stops watching him like he's expecting Jared to launch an attack at any moment.

Jared drags Jensen out for a run Sunday morning, making him lead Sadie as Jared takes Harley and, when they get back, they shower and then plant themselves in front of the television to watch football. The Cowboys have the night game, so Cliff comes over to grill up some steaks for the three of them and it feels like every other Sunday night he's shared with Jensen over the past few years. Except for the fact that he's increasingly aware of where Jensen is at all times, feels his presence like a tangible weight, always close but not close enough. On the one hand, it kind of sucks, reminding Jared way too much of being in high school, being that gawky, gangly theater kid with a crush. But, on the other, it's not so bad. Jensen's still Jensen, still his best friend and it's still just as easy to laugh as it always has been.

By the time the game's over, Jared's stuffed with meat and chips and beer and he's feeling better than he has in weeks. He walks Cliff to the door and gives the requisite 'See you tomorrow' and 'Drive fast, take chances' spiel before heading back to the living room and flopping down onto the couch. The post-game show is still blaring, Jensen stretched out in the recliner, balancing a beer bottle on his thigh.

"Wonder when everyone's gonna get tired of talkin' 'bout Brett Favre," Jensen says, voice low and lazy, weighted down by beer and too much food.

Grunting comfortably, Jared stretches his legs out and rests his head on the arm of the couch, tilted slightly toward the television. "Wonder when they'll teach Emmitt Smith how to speak intelligently."

Jensen snorts behind him and Jared can see a movement out the corner of his eye when Jensen makes an abortive kick in his direction. "You shut your damn mouth. Man's the best running back of all time, he could sound like fuckin' Jar Jar Binks and they'd still put him on TV every week."

"Yeah, and you should see him dance," Jared replies with a smirk, lifting a hand to flutter his fingers for added emphasis.

"Jar Jar Binks?" Jensen counters and Jared takes a weird comfort in the easy amusement of Jensen's voice, lets his eyes slip shut and his mind drift slightly. "Nah, he's shit. Dude can't even do the Electric Slide without fallin' on his ass."

"Sounds familiar," Jared replies, still grinning faintly.

"It's those long legs of yours, Gigantor. Don't worry, one day, if you really work at it, you'll learn how to use 'em like a real boy."

Jared snorts a laugh, body twisting and head tilting back just enough to barely make out Jensen's face. "Oh, fuck you."

Jensen's head's tipped back as he downs the rest of his beer and he grunts after swallowing, pushing himself up to his feet. "Maybe later," he mutters and heads toward the bathroom. "Too tired now. Bedtime. Night, Jare."

And, Jared's left to stare after him, heartbeat stuttering in his chest and mind whirling.

:::

He makes it three more days before breaking again and, frankly, Jared's absolutely convinced he should get canonized for making it that long. An afternoon in wardrobe is like torture, forcing Jared to think of bloodied dog corpses and battle scenes from Saving Private Ryan and Jim Beaver's naked body covered in butter to keep from embarrassing himself completely when they both have to stand around in boxer briefs for hours at a time to get re-measured for God only knows what. Every minute spent watching Jensen eat is even worse, Jared's focus devoted entirely to the way Jensen's lips purse when he sucks noodles into his mouth or licks butter off a corn-on-the-cob or licks his fingers clean of salt from a bag of potato chips. They go back to spending their breaks together in each other's trailers, plotting pranks (they have a good one planned for Bobby involving rubber bands, a water hose and about a tub of Vaseline) and playing video games, but all Jared can think about the entire time is how badly he wants to tackle Jensen to the floor and grind against him.

The tension between them is unbelievable, only serving to heighten the tension between Dean and Sam on screen, and Jared's all but completely positive that the entire crew know something's going on. Not that anyone's saying as much apart from occasionally giving them each an encouraging slap on the back for a good performance and, for that, Jared can't be anything but grateful.

They get a break shortly before sundown when there's a last minute scene shift, both dressed in black suits and Jared feels like the tie is practically strangling him as they head for Jensen's trailer ostensibly to sneak in a few rounds of Guitar Hero. His skin feels itchy, blood too close to the surface and the second the door's shut behind him, he turns to grab Jensen.

"Fucking driving me crazy," he growls, fingers curling around the lapel of Jensen's jacket, pulling him close and greedily taking his mouth.

To his surprise, Jensen doesn't fight at all this time, but meets him halfway, pulling a startled groan from Jared that quickly morphs into a hungry moan. They stumble to the couch, falling gracelessly as they grapple at each other, Jared getting Jensen's knee in his side, Jensen getting Jared's elbow in his armpit. Eventually, Jared finds himself between Jensen's spread legs, grinding harshly as Jensen arches up to meet him. They're both still fully dressed in their fucking fake FBI suits and Jerry's going to kill them both if anything happens to them, which is the only reason Jared's able to pull back a few seconds later, sucking in a gasping breath.

"Wait-- wait," he manages, hair falling over his eyes as he shoves a hand between them, palm pressed to Jensen's chest. "Gotta-- fuck, we can't. Not here." Jensen groans beneath him and Jared's not sure whether it's frustration or irritation or resignation or all three and then some. He swallows thickly, heart still going a mile minute in his chest. "Rain check?"

"I fucking hate you," is Jensen's only reply, but there's no real malice in it and Jared can't help but let out a quick laugh.

Jensen shoves at him then and Jared relents, pulling back to reluctantly get to his feet, immediately straightening his jacket and the buttoned shirt underneath, smoothing out any potential wrinkles before turning and reaching to adjust Jensen's collar which he'd managed to flip out of place. He smooths a hand over Jensen's shoulder and quirks a slow grin when he feels Jensen's eyes on him, feels that tension drawing tight between them again. It's a good tension now, all hunger and want and Jared's all but completely positive that they both feel it.

His gaze briefly meets Jensen's and, without thinking about it, his tongue flicks over his bottom lip and he leans in, finding Jensen's mouth with his own in a slow, wet kiss. It takes everything in him to not push forward, to avoid the feel of Jensen pressed against him from chest to hip, especially with the way Jensen's tongue so easily slips along his own, determined and demanding. He barely stifles a groan, breath quickening before he pulls back again, feeling drugged and shaky.

"Okay, uhm," he manages when he finally breaks away, laughing quietly as his eyes open again and lock onto Jensen's, "I really gotta-- I need to go." Jensen's lips tug into a frown, brow creasing and Jared immediately shakes his head, both hands falling to Jensen's shoulders as he pointedly glances down between them, heat rising to his cheeks.

When he glances up again, Jensen's expression has relaxed into a smirk.

Stuck uncomfortably between insanely turned on and painfully embarrassed, Jared only gives a weak, awkward laugh and nods. "Yeah, well," he says, dropping a hand between them, fingertips skidding over the hard outline of Jensen's cock through his pants, "not like you can say much, man."

"And you're leavin' me hangin'," Jensen reminds him, his voice kind of breathy and nearly enough to make Jared fall to his knees right there and tell Jerry later to go fuck himself.

Instead, he only growls and gives Jensen's dick a slow rub with the heel of his hand before reluctantly pulling back again. "You got a right hand as good as mine, Jen," he says and then steps away, again adjusting his jacket, glad for the fact that it currently hides the sizable tenting of his pants and heads for the door.

:::

Shooting goes well past midnight the next day. Once again, Jared's left waiting for Jensen to finish up filming some close-ups and he finally crashes in his own trailer, stretched out on the couch to try and catch as much sleep as he can before the ride home. Exhaustion pulls him under the second his head hits the cushion and he has no idea how much time has passed before he's awoken to the sound of someone knocking at his door. It's at least not accompanied by shouting, so Jared figures it isn't a PA coming to drag him off to meet with Phil or shove him into a make-up chair, so he peels himself off the couch and stumbles over to the door.

For half a second, he thinks it could be Jensen, except Jensen wouldn't have bothered to knock. In fact, Jensen likely would've snuck right on in and then proceeded to wake Jared up by applying a bucket full of frigid tap water to the general area of Jared's crotch.

Still, when he pushes the door open to find Liam standing there instead of Jensen, he can't help feeling a little disappointed. Unfortunately, Liam's presence also likely means he is needed somewhere, which means he probably only has about sixty seconds or so to finish waking up and look halfway presentable.

"Hey," he says, attempting to put on his most sincere, if groggy, smile. "Kay, where ya draggin' me?"

There's something a little off with the smile Liam gives him in return. "Actually, I was, uh-- sorry, you look like you..." He trails off, shaking his head before giving a quiet, nervous laugh. "Was just stopping by to talk."

"Oh," Jared replies, genuinely surprised. "Yeah, sure. Come on." He moves back slightly, arm still outstretched to hold the door open so Liam can step up into the trailer. The doorway's pretty narrow, so Liam brushes up against him briefly before Jared can get the door closed and Jared notices for maybe the first time how short Liam really is. Not, like, midget height or anything, but a good couple inches shorter than Jensen. Huh.

He feels nervous and awkward then, lifts a hand to scratch the back of his neck as he rests the other on his hip. "You got somethin' on your mind or you just wanna shoot the shit?" Neither option really sounds all that appealing to Jared if he's completely honest, but he's just invited the guy in, so it's not like he can just go back to crashing on the couch and waiting in silence. Liam's taking a slow look around, but Jared knows for a fact that the guy's been in here before, that he's not seeing anything new or all that different, which can only mean that he's either nervous or buying time or both.

Jared's really starting to get a weird feeling about this.

Liam gives a smile and lets out a quick laugh, still looking uncomfortable, but clearly trying to hide it. "Both, kinda," he says.

Jared fights his own discomfort and throws a thumb over his shoulder. "Hey, want a juice or somethin'?" He's already heading over before Liam can answer, pulling out a bottle of orange juice for himself and then glancing back. "Got orange, cranberry and apple. What's your poison?"

"Uh... apple's fine," Liam replies and Jared grabs one, tossing it to him before untwisting the lid on his own.

Now he's the one buying time and he knows it, still not sure why Liam's sought him out, but suddenly absolutely sure that it can't be good. He tips his head back, taking a long swallow and then wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb before noticing Liam just staring at him.

"What?" he asks, lips tugging into a frown as he wipes at his mouth again self-consciously. He glances down at the bottle in his hand. "Did I--"

"Jesus, you're fucking hot, you know that?" Liam interrupts and Jared blinks and stammers slightly. It's not like he hasn't heard that before, but it's not really often he hears it from someone he works with.

"Uhm," he says, but he manages a laugh, genuine, but still awkward. "Thanks."

Liam's still just watching him and Jared suddenly realizes he should probably return the compliment because, yeah, the guy's no Jensen, but he's not ugly by any stretch. Kinda short now that Jared thinks about it, but that's not really a crime. Just different.

"You're not-- you know, you're not too bad yourself," he tries, wincing when it comes out sounding completely lame and insincere.

But, Liam only laughs again, quiet and good-natured, shaking his head as he takes a step closer to Jared and reaches a hand out, curling it in the sleep-rumpled cotton of Jared's t-shirt. Jared somehow refrains from immediately taking a corresponding step back, but it's a near thing.

"I've been thinking," Liam continues, giving Jared's shirt a light tug and then stepping even closer. Jared quietly holds his breath, though it's mostly to try and keep his body from making any sort of contact with Liam's. "The other day when you wanted to talk, I kind of-- well, I think I gave you the wrong impression."

That manages to confuse Jared enough that he finally exhales. "Huh?

"I sorta let you think I'm with someone," Liam explains, looking a little sheepish.

That's not really the way Jared remembers it; he remembers being told that Liam's with someone, remembers Jensen confirming it. Some guy in San Diego named Aaron or Eric or something according to Jensen and how weird is it that Jensen knows more about the personal life of this guy than Jared does? That doesn't seem right.

He really needs to stop thinking about Jensen all the damn time.

Liam looks up at him again and Jared swallows, every muscle in his body gone tense as Liam continues to lightly touch and tug at Jared's shirt. "That's-- you kinda caught me at a weird time," he says and Jared's brow furrows, struggling to keep up. "Me and Eric, we're... I dunno. It's weird, you know? The distance thing is tough on both of us and he's... well, he's brought up the idea of us having an open relationship and I was thinking--"

"Okay, whoa," Jared stops him, his brain finally getting with the program and he lets out a soft chuckle that sounds and feels a lot like relief. "Wait up."

"Look, I know it's-- I mean I know you're not... out or anything," Liam says, clearly growing more sure of himself the more he talks, his hand sliding down to rest on Jared's side, which is way more intimate than Jared's prepared for, though he somehow manages to keep from squirming away. Liam hardly seems to notice. "But, it doesn't have to be anything anyone needs to know about. Just between us."

The thing is, Jared's always had a hard time telling people 'no.' It's gotten him into messes before, situations he hasn't wanted to find himself in (though, luckily, it hasn't landed him in jail yet) and this is quickly starting to feel like one of those situations.

"Jared, come on," Liam says, smile warming as his fingers curl in the bottom hem of Jared's shirt. "Dude, I know you want me. That kiss--"

The tale-tell squeak of the trailer door makes Liam stop abruptly, hand dropping away like he's touched fire. They spring apart, Jared nearly spilling orange juice over his shirt as they both whip their heads around to see a clearly exhausted Jensen step inside.

"Jensen," Jared breathes immediately and he can't help it if it sounds like relief, like Jensen's Superman or something, swooping in to save the day and Jared's remaining shreds of dignity.

Jensen seems to sense that something's off and he stops in the doorway, door still half open and brows furrowing as he looks from Liam to Jared and back again. "Interrupting somethin'?" he asks and there's a certain edge to his voice that makes Jared's insides twist slightly, something just barely threatening. And also hot as hell. Something very Dean, which makes sense to Jared considering how long Jensen's spent in the guy's head today alone. Probably still hasn't stripped it away completely.

"No, we're, uh--" Jared starts, pasting on an easy smile as he glances down at Liam and claps a hand on his shoulder, "We're just talkin'. About things." It's weak and, while it's not really a lie, Jared can tell that Jensen's not falling for it, one eyebrow arched. Jared again flashes a smile and then takes a quick, nervous breath, eyes still on Jensen. "You ready to go, man? I think Kurt's still waiting."

Jensen's gaze slides from Jared to Liam and his frown deepens thoughtfully. "Yeah, I'm ready," is all he says and Jared practically leaps, pulling away from Liam and heading to gather up his sweatshirt and iPod, hand reaching back to make sure his wallet's still crammed in his back pocket.

"Hey, Jared, you wanna finish this talk tomorrow?" Liam asks and Jared glances up, has to push the hair out of his eyes and then hesitates, finds himself glancing at Jensen, like he's looking for help.

Jensen doesn't offer it.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he says finally and catches the tight purse of Jensen's lips before turning his attention to Liam again.

"Great," Liam replies, really sounding like he means it as he heads for the door. "Well, I'll catch you later then. Night, guys."

Jared lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when the door clicks shut, leaving him alone with Jensen. Jared turns to him, lips already parted to give a heartfelt thank you and maybe share a laugh about the pure fucking awkwardness of that whole conversation, but when their eyes meet, he stops short. Jensen's gaze is steel, lips drawn into a thin line and he just looks at Jared for an alarmingly drawn-out minute before heading for the door.

"I'll meet you in the car," he says, voice cold.

Jared stares after him as the door swings shut, once again left trying to figure out what the hell's just happened.

:::

It's while enduring yet another incredibly tense car ride that Jared figures it out. The trip gives him plenty of time to second guess the idea, to see it from a few different angles and vantage points and wonder if it's really just wishful thinking on his part but, by the time they reach his house, he's pretty well convinced himself. Jensen's still barely said a word since they left and most of those had been directed toward Kurt or Cliff but Jared's not surprised or deterred and he keeps his own conversation short, sure that the guys will just chalk it up to them both being tired from a long, hard day of work, which really isn't far from the truth anyway.

"So," Jared says, after he's let the dogs out and steps into the kitchen to watch as Jensen goes through that day's mail, laid out for them on the island. Jensen doesn't even glance at him, but grunts an acknowledgment as he flips through envelope after envelope, separating his stuff from Jared's. Jared calmly leans in, the counter top of the island cool against his forearms as he grins a little. "You're jealous."

That gets Jensen's attention real quick.

"I'm what?"

Jensen's tone is cold and even still, but Jared knows he's right, he knows it and he only grins brighter. "You're jealous," he repeats and he leans a little closer across the island, watching Jensen intently. "Of Liam. You think I want him."

"Oh, I see," Jensen replies, lips tugging into a scowl, "you see me pissed off because I caught you with a guy you know is in a relationship with someone else and that makes me jealous."

It's not like that at all, of course; Jensen's got it all wrong. But, that's completely besides the point. "Yes," he says and he's still smiling, feeling practically giddy with it. "J-E-L-L-U-S. Jealous."

"You're delusional," Jensen says, clearly not finding the situation funny at all as he grabs up his mail and turns to stalk off to his bedroom.

"Maybe," Jared says, already moving to intercept Jensen before he can get too far. "Still doesn't change the fact that I'm right."

"Jared--"

"I don't want him," Jared continues, stepping quickly to the left when Jensen tries to dodge past him, using his size to his advantage once again. "He came by to tell me that his boyfriend wants to take a break or something, but that's not... it's not what I want, Jensen."

"Yeah, well it sure as hell didn't look that way at his party."

"I was drunk," Jared says with a quick laugh, still standing like a rock in the doorway of the kitchen. "I probably would've hit on Kim if he'd still been there and you hadn't stepped in."

Jensen's nose wrinkles into a look of pure disgust, for which Jared can't really blame him because not only is Kim like a cranky father to the both of them, but the guy also looks Willie Nelson's less attractive kid brother. "Jared, I've lost count of the number of times I've seen you drunk and that's the first time I've ever seen you playing tonsil hockey with another dude, so don't give me that bullshit."

"Well, you were ignoring me," Jared says easily, crossing his arms over his chest and giving an easy shrug, lips tugged in a half-smile. "Liam wasn't."

"I wasn't--" Jensen starts and then gives a frustrated huff. "Jared, you're straight. Okay? I know you, you probably think this is something you should do because of the whole Sandy thing or whatever, but you're straight, alright? Fucking around with me or Liam or whoever-the-fuck-else-with-a-dick isn't about to change that!"

Jared lets him finish and there's a part of him that wonders if Jensen's right, if maybe subconsciously, he's only feeling this way because he's still all messed up from Sandy. But, it doesn't take him very long at all to dismiss that. The Sandy thing... yeah, maybe that's a part of it, but Jared's not so messed up to think that changing his preference of genitalia will spontaneously make anything better.

He gives a slight shake of his head and his voice softens, though he continues to hold his ground. "Maybe it's happening now because I finally have the chance," he says because that makes more sense. Three years with Sandy and he never had reason to question anything, never had the time or inclination to wonder about the way Jensen sometimes looked at him or the fact that being thousands of miles away from Jensen always sucked more than being thousands of miles away from his girlfriend. "You ever thought of that?"

Jensen's frown only deepens and he shakes his head. "No, that's not-- it doesn't work that way."

"Jesus, what the hell do I have to do to convince you, man?" Jared asks with a rough laugh. "You want me to suck you off right here, right now? Because I will. And you know what? I'll fucking love it. I've been thinking about it for weeks, Jen, and just having you--"

"Weeks!?" Jensen cuts in with a tight, humorless bark of a laugh. "Fucking weeks? Are you fucking kidding me?" He shoves his way past Jared, but Jared doesn't fight it, too bewildered to do much of anything but blink after him for a second.

But, only a second before he's scrambling to catch up, forcing himself between Jensen and Jensen's bedroom door.

"Jared, if you don't--"

"No," Jared practically growls, hands wrapping tight around Jensen's biceps, using all those stupid stage combat moves he's learned on set to turn and shove Jensen against the wall. Jensen fights him, but whether it's because he's honestly bone-tired from work or just bone-tired from everything else, it feels like only a token struggle and it's hardly any work on Jared's part to keep in place. "Listen to me." He's still managing to keep his voice calm, but there's an edge to it now, all pure determination and, judging by the slow, wide-eyed look on Jensen's face, it's having an effect. "I didn't-- before I found that magazine, I hadn't really thought about it, okay? You got that right. I had Sandy and I was happy with her and it just... it never came up. But, it's-- fuck, I don't know. I found that and then the, uh... the thing in your nightstand and I needed to know. Don't ask me why, I just-- I had to know, I couldn't stop fucking thinking about you."

Jensen's face is beet red now, doubtlessly because Jared's mentioned the dildo, and Jared feels kind of bad about that. Not bad enough to give any ground, though. Jensen sucks in a breath. "You went through my--"

"Yes," Jared replies, owning up to it now because there's not point not to, his own face growing hot at the admission. He ignores it, clamping down on the guilt as hard as he can and pushing forward. "And, yeah, I regret breaking your trust like that, man, but I really don't regret finding it. Not even a little."

Jensen's still just staring, but when he shifts uncomfortably under Jared's hold, Jared finally backs off slightly, loosening his grip, but staying close. Still, Jensen appears to relax slightly. "That's because you're a fucking pervert," he grumbles and Jared manages a laugh, equal parts nervous and relieved.

"Hey, I'm not the one who owns the thing," Jared reminds him, voice quietly amused and very slightly heated, which he's hoping like hell Jensen will pick up on.

But Jensen only gives a weak, sheepish smile and twists again, shouldering his way out of Jared's grasp to slip into his bedroom. Jared sighs and follows, watches as Jensen paces in front of him, head bent as he rubs at the nape of his neck. Even after the past several days, Jared's sure he's never seen Jensen so wound up, a ball of pure tension and anxiety. Jared can sympathize to some degree because this really isn't easy for him either even if it is all his fault. The events and conversations of the past few weeks roll through Jared's mind, everything they've said so far echoing and then suddenly clicking and falling to place. Just like that. Had Jared been born Bugs Bunny, a light bulb would be burning bright right above of his head.

He must make a sound or something, maybe a quiet gasp, he doesn't know, but suddenly Jensen's looking over at him again, still wary and suspicious, still hiding. And Jared knows without a shadow of a doubt. He knows. Holy shit.

"You're in love with me."

It comes out a whisper, but he may as well have screamed it for the way it punctures and then hangs in the air. Jensen looks like a freaking deer caught in the headlights of a barreling semi and Jared's absolutely glued to the spot, completely unsure of what to do now that it's out, this new, sort of huge thing. Jensen's other secret. There's a large part of him expecting Jensen to start denying it and another, far more alarming part, that desperately doesn't want him to. He swallows tightly, never taking his eyes off Jensen as his heart thuds in his chest.

"Jen..." he starts when it becomes obvious that Jensen's not willing to say anything.

But, Jensen just shakes his head and holds up a hand. "Don't, okay?" he says, making Jared falter and frown in confusion. "I'm not-- this is not something we're talking about."

"Jensen."

"Seriously, don't." Jensen's voice is harsher, a cold edge hiding what Jared knows is underneath: the ridiculous fear and humiliation of being found unwanted and undeserving. Which is completely fucking absurd as far as Jared's concerned, but he's not sure how to get that through. Jensen can't even seem to comprehend that Jared could be anything but completely straight, so he kind of doubts the guy will believe him when he says he's really not freaking out right now over the idea that his best friend may want something more than just some casual sex. Mostly, he's just... stunned.

And possibly more than a little hopeful.

Jared watches Jensen carefully, not daring to take a step forward or back for fear that he could accidentally set off a landmine. It's stupid, of course, but it's not like he's ever really been in this kind of situation before. Up until now, relationships have been relatively easy for him, usually finding himself drifting into one without his prior knowledge or intent. He and Sandy had been dating for about six months before Jared even realized it and it'd taken Chad of all people to clue him on the deal.

Though, in a way, this doesn't feel too different. It's just a bit more complicated.

And with no Chad, thank God.

When Jensen finally speaks again, his voice is almost eerily calm and collected and it sets Jared on edge. "Look, this doesn't have to be anything weird, okay?" he says and Jared swallows tightly, refusing to respond just yet. "You weren't-- it doesn't change anything. We can-- fuck, we can just get really fucking plastered right now and pretend it never happened, I'm cool with that. You cool with that?"

Jared lets out an immediate snort of a laugh, followed quickly by a firm, "No."

Jensen looks startled and Jared can already sense him retreating even though the guy doesn't physically move an inch.

Taking a couple steps forward, Jared stands directly in front of Jensen, forcibly pulling up courage from God knows where since he currently feels more terrified than he's ever been in his life, barring the night he'd proposed to Sandy. And, wow, right now is really not a good time to be thinking about Sandy.

"No, I'm really not cool with that," he says, his head ducking slightly to keep his eyes locked on Jensen's. A muscle in Jensen's jaw twitches and Jared can't help himself, lifting a hand to brush his thumb along the skin there. He watches Jensen fight a wince at the touch, but he doesn't pull his hand back at all. Taking a breath, he tries to calm his own nerves before pushing onward. "I don't want to forget, okay? You're not... I know you're not gonna believe me right now, I know you're just gonna keep thinking this is all, like, a post-engagement queer phase or whatever because you're a fucking stubborn moron like that, but I'm not... I'm twenty-six years old, you know? I know what I am." His thumb lightly brushes along Jensen's skin again, moving inward to touch just the corner of his mouth as Jared's voice drops a little quieter. "And I know what I want."

Jensen blinks, his dark, ridiculously long lashes fanning across freckled cheeks and before Jared can risk letting Jensen think too hard about what he's just said, he leans in, closing the space between them, replacing his thumb with his lips. It's barely a kiss at all, only made that way by the slight purse of Jared's lips before he pulls back again, thumb touching Jensen's full bottom lip like sealing a promise.

"Jared, you don't--"

"Shut up," Jared says, nearly smirking as he presses his thumb firmly over Jensen's lips. "For once, just... don't argue with me, alright?"

Jensen's eyebrows lift at that, but he doesn't argue and he doesn't pull back. For a moment, Jared wonders if the guy's even breathing.

Slowly, he lets his thumb slip away again, but he takes a step closer, bringing them chest to chest, his free hand falling to Jensen's side, giving him no room to back away. Idly, his fingertips slide along the fabric of Jensen's t-shirt, tracing the bottom hem before slipping just underneath to touch the waistband of Jensen's jeans and the leather of his belt.

"Y'know," Jared says, head tipping to one side, his voice still a whisper, like he's afraid speaking any louder will scare Jensen off, "it'd be really nice if you'd kiss me first for a change."

Jared feels Jensen startle a little, blinking before a smile creases the lines around his eyes and he lets out a soft laugh.

"Jesus, you're a fucking girl," he says and Jared grins, but doesn't deny it. Doesn't care to because then Jensen's mouth is on his, all the hesitation gone as their lips part and tongues meet, everything else Jared might have to say suddenly reduced to a low, aching groan. Jensen's hands find his waist, pulling him in closer and Jared actually tries his best to keep it slow, to relish the way Jensen tastes and the quiet sounds he makes when Jared slips his hand up under Jensen's shirt, fingers sliding back to brush the dip of his spine. But, apparently, Jensen has other ideas, his hips rocking forward, hard and demanding as his hand reaches up, fingers curling into Jared's hair and holding on. Jared's moans get lost against Jensen's mouth, bitten and sucked away.

It only takes a couple steps forward to find the bed, Jensen falling backward onto it and dragging Jared with him, a hand clamped to the back of his neck. Jared goes easily, crawling his way up the length of Jensen's body, a knee on either side, their noses bumping and teeth clacking at the thoroughly uncoordinated movements. Jensen's other hand slips up the back of Jared's shirt and Jared figures he really can't be blamed for the sounds that come out of his mouth as Jensen pushes the fabric up higher, his broad hand spread wide. Jared's hips rock forward just once before he pulls back abruptly, arms lifting to yank off his shirt, tossing it aside.

And that, of course, leaves Jensen incredibly overdressed.

Letting out a harsh breath, Jared shifts, half crawling backward as his hands fall to the front of Jensen's shirt, roughly tugging it up. "Off," he grunts impatiently and Jensen laughs beneath him before batting Jared's hands out of the way and then arching, peeling the shirt off as Jared stares like he's seen his very first all-you-can-eat buffet. Automatically, he goes from half-hard to full-fucking-steam-ahead and ducks down, searching out Jensen's neck with his mouth, tasting salt and leather and a slight trace of leftover make-up and Jensen gasps, tipping his head back further.

Jared's damn hair keeps falling over his eyes, hindering his view, but he's too focused on touch and taste to care all that much, his mouth working lower, tracing the curve of Jensen's collarbone with his tongue as Jensen grapples at his shoulders and arms, like he's trying to hold on.

"Fuck, Jared."

Grunting a reply, Jared moves lower, working a hand between the latch of Jensen's belt and then the top button of his jeans.

"I still want to," he murmurs, words muffled against smooth, warm skin as his hand works to get Jensen's jeans open. Muscles ripple under his lips and his tongue darts out for another taste as Jensen gives a questioning groan. Grinning, Jared slips his tongue into the shallow dip of Jensen's belly button and then glances up, his hand finally slipping into the front of Jensen's jeans, cupping the hard length of him over his boxers. "Wanna fuck you."

The shudder that rocks through Jensen is nearly enough to knock Jared clean off and he laughs quietly, twisting his wrist to rub the heel of his palm against Jensen's erection.

"Jesus Christ, don't say shit like that unless you want it all over right the fuck now," Jensen gasps, his hand fumbling to grab at Jared's wrist, trying to pull him off.

And Jared goes with it if only because he has some other things he wants to accomplish right now, namely getting Jensen naked. Slipping his hand free, gathers up the denim at Jensen's thighs and pulls and Jensen, smart guy that he is, gets the hint and raises his hips to help out. The shoes prove a minor problem, but Jared makes quick work of those, tossing them quickly to the floor one by one before wrestling Jensen completely free of his jeans and boxers.

Which leaves Jared the one overdressed.

Jensen seems to notice this first, already sitting up, legs bent and spread at the knee as he all but dives for Jared's jeans, fingers fumbling roughly with the belt buckle before Jared can gather enough brain cells back together and get with the program and help. Together, it takes them a little longer than it ordinarily would, fingers getting tangled and limbs colliding, but eventually, Jared's just as naked as Jensen and they're both kneeling on the bed, breathing heavy and staring at each other.

"Second thoughts?" Jensen asks a moment later, lips twisting into a half grin that Jared can tell is meant to cover up the fact that a part of him is still convinced Jared will back out at any second.

"Fuck no," Jared says immediately, laughing gruffly as he lunges forward, knocking Jensen to his back and wrestling him to the mattress. It's not suave at all and not meant to be, Jensen cursing beneath him as Jared presses a thigh between his legs and grinds forward. "Meant what I said," he tells him, lips finding the shell of Jensen's ear as he holds him down.

Jensen groans raggedly and Jared finds Jensen's earlobe with his teeth, hips rocking forward again, rubbing himself along the curve of Jensen's hip.

"Not-- fuck, Jared, not yet," Jensen says, sounding nearly pained.

Jared stills and then turns his head, a slow worry climbing into his stomach as his eyes meet Jensen's.

But then, Jensen's hands are on him, one on his hip and the other planted right on the meat of his ass, gripping and roughly pulling him forward. "Later," Jensen promises, voice still ragged, still hungry and that's all Jared needs to hear. "Just-- fuck, I just want to come."

"Yeah," Jared groans because he's just agreeable like that and then moves quickly, shifting to straddle Jensen completely, lining up cock to cock and just that alone makes everything go a little fuzzy around the edges. His head drops forward, hair once again falling over his eyes as he tries to hold the rest of his weight up with his arms, breathing humidly against Jensen's cheek. "Fuck, yeah. Jen..."

They finally find a rhythm, Jared's hips rocking downward as Jensen arches beneath him, sweat making Jensen's skin practically fucking glisten. And then Jensen's slipping between them, his hand finding Jared's dick and then his own, wrapping around both and stroking and Jared's done, absolutely fucking done, his forehead knocking into Jensen's nose as every muscle in his body seizes and then shudders in an embarrassing spasm. He can feel the slickness between them, the way the friction becomes somehow more and less intense at the same time as Jensen spreads his come over the both of them, using it as slick.

Jared's barely blinking his way back to reality when he pulls back, remembering in vivid detail what Jensen had done to him the last time. Ignoring the disgruntled sound Jensen makes as he peels himself away, he slides down the length of Jensen's body, another shiver running through him when he sees the skin of Jensen's belly painted in his own come in white glistening streaks that make his mouth water. And then he's face to face with Jensen's cock and... well, okay, that's a little intimidating. As much as he's thought about it over the past couple weeks, he's never come anywhere close to doing it. But, if there's one thing Jared's always been good at, it's facing a challenge.

He takes a quick breath and then goes for it, tongue darting out for just a taste at first, right at the ridge, fully aware that he's probably tasting more of himself than Jensen at the moment. And it's... well, it's not the best thing he's ever tasted, but it's not bad and his lips part further, taking in just the head as his hand slides up to curl around the shaft. Jensen bucks beneath him and Jared pulls off quickly, laughing softly to himself as his hand gives Jensen a slow stroke.

"Hang on," he breathes and licks his lips. "Not... gotta get used to this."

Before Jensen can say anything in reply, Jared ducks down again, carefully curling his lips over his teeth because that much he knows having been on the receiving end more than a few times. Trying again, he manages to take more, experimentally hollowing his cheeks as he slides downward and then up, slicking Jensen with his spit, his hand moving where he can't reach. And he's nowhere even close to deep-throating, his gag reflex kicking into effect after only a few inches, making him pull back apologetically before trying once more.

Jensen doesn't appear to be complaining about Jared's absolute lack of finesse though and, only a few seconds later, Jared feels fingers curling and tugging into his hair, hears Jensen raggedly repeating his name. It only occurs to him that it's supposed to be a warning when he feels a hot, thick splash in his mouth, leaking into the back of his throat and he pulls back with a sputter. Somehow, he manages to have the presence of mind to keep his hand moving, jerking Jensen through it as he glances up to see Jensen completely stretched out for him, one hand fisting the comforter beneath him, the other reaching back to grip the headboard as a deep flush of red colors his chest and neck.

And, fuck, Jensen's face.

Jared feels his heart stutter in his chest and he swallows harshly, the taste of Jensen still thick and bitter on his tongue. Seconds later and Jensen reaches down, quickly stills Jared's hand with a high, tight groan.

"Jesus-- yeah, okay," he says roughly and Jared manages a feeble smile, uncurling his fingers carefully and brushing them over the planes of Jensen's pelvis, slick and sticky. It suddenly feels eerily still, no sound but that of their ragged breaths until Jensen shifts slightly and gives Jared's wrist a tug. "C'mere," he says and Jared hesitates for a only a second before moving, the muscles in his legs groaning quietly as he takes up the space beside Jensen on the bed.

He watches Jensen inhale, meets his eyes and lets out his own breath, a small, tentative smile starting to curve his lips. "Still think I'm straight?" he asks, reaching to rest his hand on Jensen's flushed chest, fingers curling against smooth skin.

Jared feels the quiet rumble of Jensen's laugh more than he hears it and it's all the answer he needs.

:::

He wakes up the next morning twenty minutes before Jensen's alarm is set to go off, which leaves him enough time to shower and dress and feed the mutts. When he gets back to Jensen's room with two minutes to spare, Jared's completely unsurprised to find him in exactly the position he'd been left in: sprawled out on his stomach, half his face pressed into the pillow cradled under his arms, the comforter pulled up over his shoulders.

With a smirk, Jared silently turns off the alarm and then crouches down to open the bottom drawer of Jensen's nightstand. The condoms and lube are all still in there, untouched since he and Jensen hadn't really gotten that far the night before.

But, that's not what Jared's going for.

Moments later, Jared knees onto the bed, reaching out with one hand to slowly peel the comforter away from Jensen's bare body, watching his face carefully as he does so for any signs of Jensen waking up, momentarily stilling when Jensen gives a quiet grumble and then shifts, smashing his face further into his pillow. He stops once Jensen's bare ass is exposed, smoothing a hand over it reverently a second before the other, wrapped around the long length of Jensen's black dildo, comes flying down with a quick, harsh smack.

Immediately, there's a flailing of arms and legs and Jared stumbles swiftly out of the way, crashing against Jensen's dresser as he barrels over with laughter.

"Motherfucker," Jensen growls wildly, hair mussed and skin flushed as he gets to his feet. He gingerly brushes a hand over the blossoming red mark on his ass and then turns to glare daggers at Jared. "I hope you fucking die in a car crash," he grumbles and then reaches out to yank the dildo from Jared's hand and stomps off to the bathroom.

Still laughing, Jared watches him go, calling out after the bathroom door slams shut. "Fifteen minutes!"

The only response he gets is a hearty, "Fuck you!"

end.