Finally Homeby Nomelon
Rating: PG-13
~~~ It's eight a.m. when Jensen arrives on set. They have a late start, first day back and all, and he doesn't have to clock in 'til nine, but yet there he is, bright and early. He stands by the craft tent, watching the world go by, sipping on coffee that is so, so much better than the tar they served on the My Bloody Valentine set. Then it's just a matter of waiting for things to start happening. He exchanges a few smiles and nods with the catering staff and crew as they wander past, old familiar faces, everybody doing their thing. There's a break in the clouds, just enough for the sun to warm Jensen's skin, and it looks like summer is thinking about putting in an appearance. The morning smells fresh, the remnants of last night's rain still lying in damp patches on the ground. Everybody's got a bounce in their step; Jensen's heard at least three people whistling while they work. It's good to be back. He'd barely slept at all last night, butterflies in his stomach at the thought of getting back to work on his show. Maybe it's dumb, but that's how he thinks of it: his. He knows he really needs to focus on his movie career, knows he needs to bust his ass to get out of genre roles before it's too late... but he can't help it. It still feels good, really good to be back. He gets to be Dean motherfucking Winchester again, and yeah, it's going to mean long, uncomfortable hours dangling like a fish on a hook in front of a green screen (hopefully without crying like a baby this time), and even longer pretending like he's Ruby inside his own body, but it's worth it. Even the thought of having to wear those god-awful black contacts, or the way he's figured he's going to play it, letting Ruby have her moment of making Dean prance and preen and flirt before she gets down to the dirty business of breaking Sam's heart just enough to make him do things her way. Jensen knows he's in for constant ribbing from pretty much every single person he works with for acting like a girl, even if the girl in question happens to be a badass demon. He can only imagine the pranks he's going to be hit with: gifts of flowers and chocolates and frilly lingerie being delivered to his trailer from "secret admirers", a lot of pink finding its way into Dean's wardrobe, the makeup girls going to town on him when he's stupid enough to nod off in the makeup chair -- but he can deal. Right now, Dean could get cursed into thinking he was a prima ballerina, and it wouldn't ruffle Jensen's feathers in the slightest. He stands in the middle of the lot and just breathes it all in. Being back makes him feel like he's ten feet tall, almost Jared-sized. Speaking of Jared, he checks his messages again -- force of habit -- but there's nothing new since he last checked all of four minutes ago. Jared's flight didn't get in until late last night, so they haven't had a chance to catch up face-to-face. It's been a hell of a hiatus, the two of them working their respective asses off on opposite ends of the country, but Jared's been keeping himself especially busy. Jensen doesn't blame him. Jared's had a lot on his plate recently, poor thing. Contact has been sporadic at best, but Jensen knows Jared well enough to be able to tell when he's putting on a brave face. That's what best friends are for, after all. They've snatched brief phone calls when they could, or lobbed texts messages back and forth between takes. But the real calls, the important calls, have been a couple of late night, mostly one-sided conversations when Jared was all messed up on jet-lag and a few too many beers, stumbling over the news of his break-up with Sandy and half-heartedly trying to play it off like it wasn't such a big deal. It's hard to think of the two of them as anything other than a matched set. Jensen likes Sandy. She's fun, and she's never ragged on him for taking up so much of Jared's time. Sandy is good people. If Jensen is having trouble getting his head around the fact that Jared and Sandy were over, he could only imagine how rough it is for Jared. Jared hadn't shared exactly what had happened, just that things were over. No take-backs. No second chances. The picture-perfect engagement was off. "It doesn't feel like I thought it would," Jared had admitted, his voice muted against the phone, but echoing a little, like he was alone in an empty room. Jensen pictured him, in some anonymous hotel room maybe, sitting hunched and miserable on the edge of the mattress. Jared sounded tired when he called, strung out, his vowels longer and coarser than usual, all rough-edged Texas drawl, the way he got when they'd been shooting for twenty hours straight and even Jared's boundless supply of energy was waning. "It never does," Jensen replied, not even sure what he meant, just wanting to make it easier. "It wasn't supposed to go this way, y'know?" Jared said. "I just wish..." Jensen had never been a guy to stick around when a relationship wasn't working out, no matter how hard it was to go through a messy break-up. His heart went out to both of them, but he knew in his gut that if Sandy wasn't happy and wanted out, then there had to have been a damn good reason for it. He closed his eyes, picturing Jared's face, wishing he could be there, wishing there was more he could do. "Jay, it won't last forever," he said. "The way you feel. I know that doesn't help right now, but hold onto it, okay? It does get better. I promise." "What if that's not true? What if this is it? What if the way I'm feeling right now, the things I want, the things I've done, that's it. What if that's it, Jensen, and I'm stuck like this forever. What if that never goes away? You don't even know. It's just. It's fucked. I'm fucked." Jensen sat up in bed, his eyes wide in the darkness. "Don't think like that," he said, firm and quiet, listening to the silence on the other end of the line. "Things are never as bad as you think. Time and sobriety. These things are your friends, Jared, you hear me?" He took a breath and picked at a loose thread on his sheets, wrapping it around his finger. "Hey, I can throw a couple of annoying clichés at you if you like." "Dude. No. No more words of wisdom. I just got off the phone with my mom." "Eesch. How did that go?" "After the tears and the 'Oh, Jared, but Sandy was such a nice girl'?" Jared said, mimicking his mother scary-perfectly then letting out a long-suffering sigh. "Just don't mention fish in the sea. That's all I'm sayin'. Please. I hear that one more time, I swear to god I'm coming up swinging." Jensen smiled, blinking slowly as he lay back down and stared up at his bedroom ceiling in the dark. "No fish. Got it." He tucked his free hand behind his head. "You're gonna be okay, Jared." "Yeah." There was a long sigh on the other end of the phone. "Yeah." "Can I do anything?" Jensen asked, and he listened to Jared inhale shakily and sniff, then just breathe, slow and careful; a minute passing, two, then three. Finally, Jensen began to speak. He filled the silence with chatter about his day, about stupid shit that had happened, about the amount of bitching Jaime King had been doing about how much more professional everyone had been when they were shooting Sin City. Same old industry bullshit, nothing important, but while he'd been talking, he could hear everything Jared wasn't saying, hear the sighs and the little intakes of breath like Jared was building up to something, but couldn't get the words out. So Jensen kept right on talking, filling in the gaps, ramping up the funny until he could hear a smile in Jared's one-word answers. --- It's going to be really good to see Jared again. His arrival is oddly subdued. Usually Jensen hears him long before he sees him, Jared's presence heralded by that big booming laugh and a flurry of activity. On occasion there have even been fleeing crew members, glue guns, and ruined hats. Today, Jared just appears at Jensen's elbow, surprising him in mid-sip. "Jensen. Hey." His smile, bright and a little tentative, hits Jensen like a kick in the chest, and suddenly he's got an armful of Jared, warm and a little sweaty, just like always. Jared claps a hand around the back of Jensen's neck and just holds him there. His cheek is warm, but his fingertips are a little cold against Jensen's skin. "Man, it's good to see you," Jensen says with a face-full of Jared's coat, giving him a couple of obligatory manly backslaps before bunching his free hand on the thick material and just holding on. Jared pulls back sooner than Jensen is expecting, leaving him swaying, suddenly cold without Jared's heat right there to ward off the chilly Vancouver morning. "How're you holdin' up?" "Good, good," Jared says, nodding his head. "So, uh, you ready to go be Winchesters again?" Jensen grins, loud and proud. "I was born ready, son," he says, cranking up his accent enough to make Jared chuckle and punch him on the arm. "And I want beer after work," Jensen says, fake-scowling and rubbing at his arm. "Lots of beer. You're buying. And you can fill me in." Jared groans. "Dude, you're worse than my mom." "Please," Jensen says. "Your mom can drink me under the table." Jared bursts out laughing, and it's a good sound. Jensen grins at him, feeling an odd little surge of pride. "Well then," Jensen says, lifting his chin in greeting to where Kim is standing across the lot, hand raised in welcome, waiting for them. "Let's go do this thing." --- There's the welcome back meeting to get everyone up to speed. Kim announces a few last-minute changes that send up a couple of good-natured groans from the crew. Then there's a glitch with the lights in Sam's motel room that sets them back fifteen minutes and has John the lamp operator swearing up a streak blue enough to make Jensen choke on his third coffee. Running lines goes a long way towards getting them back in synch and feeling like Sam and Dean again. Ordinarily Jensen likes more time to prepare than this, but at this stage, he's pretty confident that they know their characters inside and out. The fact that Jared has managed to learn all his own lines for once, instead of only knowing Jensen's, is just the icing on the cake. When they get down to actually filming, however, it's strained, difficult in a way Jensen can't remember it ever being, and everything's taking three times as long as it should. He's inside Dean's skin, inside Ruby's headspace, and -- understandably -- Sam is supposed to be a complete wreck. Jensen has to remember to keep the sympathy under lock and key, letting those little looks and snide, biting little lines that Sera has obviously been having way, way too much fun writing do the work for him; getting under Sam's skin, fucking with his head. It's beautiful, though. So damn clever where they're headed this season, and the thought of how they're getting Dean back makes Jensen want to throw his head back and crow in anticipation. And yet, somehow, they suck. Lines are falling flat. Scenes aren't flowing. It's just not working. Jensen doesn't get it. He's in the zone. He's been waiting for this, looking forward to it, bouncing on the balls of his feet between takes, and still they're fucking up. Maybe it's the first-day-back jitters, but he knows they're better than this. It's depressing. In fact, it's pissing him off. He wanted to come back with a clean slate, and really knock one out of the park. Instead Jared's stiff, and half the time he won't even look Jensen in the eye. Sam's supposed to be in full-on warrior mode, not wallowing in angst. He isn't going to cave when Ruby rubs him the wrong way, saying all the things he doesn't want to hear, making him watch his big brother walking and talking when Sam knows it's a cruel farce. He's not supposed to look like a kicked puppy when Ruby gets too close. When she touches him, he's not supposed to flinch. Sam is holding it all together because he has to, because getting Dean back is his only focus. Jared's supposed to own this. When Kim finally calls a halt for the day, Jensen's sure he can hear a sigh of relief go up from the crew. Nobody's whistling as they pack up, that's for damn sure. They suffer through the obligatory "friendly" talk from Kim. It doesn't take long. "It's the first day back, boys, so I'll cut you some slack," Kim says. "Take the weekend to get your shit together, and don't let it get to you, but don't make me kick your asses come Monday morning, 'cause you know I'll do it." It's the kind of thing that Jensen listens to attentively, tries to nod seriously like he's taking it all on board in his professional capacity as a serious actor, but just ends up mumbling apologies along with Jared when Kim's done, like they're in kindergarten. Really, it just makes him want to kick things. Right now, he feels like he's in kindergarten, because, hey, it's not like he was the one messing up today. This is all on Jared. Jared, who would ordinarily be trying to noogie Kim right about now, or tickle him, or something else equally retarded because that's just what Jared does. They've taken their lumps, now it's time for the Jared Padalecki patented tension breaker, but he's just standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jensen, his head lowered, nodding along to everything Kim has to say. The second they're done, Jensen is herding Jared toward the nearest trailer (which happens to be Jensen's, which is great, because that's where all the beer is) and pushing him up the steps and through the door. He grabs two beers from the tiny cooler and throws one at Jared, who catches it one-handed. Jensen doesn't even have to ask the question. Just takes a healthy swallow of his beer and raises his eyebrow. Jared hasn't even opened his beer. He's just staring at it in his hand, toying at the lip of the can with his nail. "Jensen. I... Nothing. It's nothing." "Come on, this is something. When it's fucking you up in front of the camera, it's definitely something." Jared shakes his head, not looking up. "Huh. Then what the hell's the problem? Because this is..." Jensen flounders, searching for a way to describe this, because it's familiar, horribly familiar, but he just can't put his finger on it. "How come I feel like I'm getting dumped here?" He winces as soon as the words hit the air between them, and it's an epic wince, because that's possibly one of the stupidest things he's ever said, and definitely not the most diplomatic thing he could have said to Jared right now. But that's what it feels like. He's been there before. Granted, not very often, and never when his platonic best friend was the other half of the equation, but Jensen's just calling it like he sees it. "What?" Jared says, looking incredulous. "Dude. No. And... no," he says, edging into amused. "Right," Jensen says, rubbing at the back of his neck and feeling ten kinds of stupid. "Obviously, I just meant friendship dumping. I didn't mean... And I definitely didn't mean to bring up... I mean, not until you're ready to talk about..." He clears his throat and starts over. "Then what? You've been acting off all day. Have I done something?" "No." "Have you done something?" "No." Jared stands up with a sigh and paces a little as best he can in the trailer, putting some space between them. "I told you. It's nothing." "This is because I tried to make you laugh, isn't it? We should have talked about things, let you get it all out or whatever, but I was too busy trying to find the funny when that was probably the last thing you needed." Jared abandons his unopened beer, scrubs his hands over his face and back through his hair. "Jensen," he says, then bites on his lip and doesn't say anything else. "It's cool. Really. You don't have to sugarcoat it. Whatever it is, Jared. Just-- Whatever it is." Jensen realises he's backing away almost as an afterthought. Jared is moving towards him, walking slow and easy, shaking his head, his hands spread out like Jensen's a horse he's trying not to spook. "You can tell me," he says. "Jared. I'm, y'know, here for you and shit. So whatever it is. Just tell me." Jensen's back hits the wall behind him and he's got no place else to go. "Jensen," Jared says for the hundredth time, and lays his palm, tentative and a little shaky, over Jensen's heart. Warmth bleeds through the thin material of Dean's shirt and Jensen can feel his heartbeat thud against it. "Okay," Jared says, low and breathy. "Here's the thing." He catches himself, tripping over a breath, looking up like Jensen's supposed to be figuring something out. Jensen's got nothing. Jared shakes his head a little, like he knows exactly how weird he's being but he has no clue what to do about it. He just watches his thumb smoothing back and forth, back and forth over Jensen's chest, slipping under the cord of Dean's amulet, sending tingles out over Jensen's skin, out over the fake tattoo with the fake scar slashing through it, making Jensen clench his teeth against the urge to shiver. Jensen glances down, because if it's that fascinating, he wants to see what the big deal is. All he can see is Jared's huge hand splayed out over his chest, and when he looks back up, Jared is leaning in, staring at his mouth. "Jensen, I'm gonna. I've been thinking about maybe, uh." "Is this about Sandy?" Jensen hears himself ask. "Because if you're, like, on some weird rebound revenge thing, I don't think--" "This has nothing to do with Sandy." "You sure? You don't want to go and do something stupid here just because you're lonely." Jared snorts softly, shaking his head like he's actually a little pissed off, a little hurt that Jensen would think that, and he pushes against Jensen's chest, pinning him to the wall. "I was the one who broke up with Sandy. She had no idea. It wasn't working, and I've been wanting somebody else for a while now. I just figured it was time to stop lying to myself and do something about it." Jared lets out a shaky breath, like it's just as much of a shock for him to say the words as it is for Jensen to hear them. He glances up to gauge Jensen's reaction. Jensen's breath comes short and shallow. He licks his lips and he nods, a little terrified, because there's no mistaking this for anything other than what it is. Jared's so calm and sure by comparison, startling revelations aside, and Jensen just wants to hold onto him for support, because this... Jesus. This is a big fucking deal. Jensen's suspected before, idly wondered what it would be like if they ever tried this. Lord knows Jared's under his skin like nobody else on Earth, but to change things like this, to cross that line... He never thought either one of them would actually go for it. There was always too much at stake, too much in the way, too much to risk: their friendship, their working relationship, their public personas. It's not the gay thing; Jensen considers himself a firm and definite one-point-five on the Kinsey scale, sliding towards a fully-fledged two, and he's more than cool with that, but this is different. This is Jared. When Jared kisses him, Jensen forgets to move. He just stands there, his eyes drifting closed, his mouth slack and shocked, and lets it happen. Jared kisses him softly, licking over his bottom lip, teasing him, and Jensen feels dizzy. When Jared shifts his weight to go for a better angle, Jensen's hand closes into a fist on the front of Sam's hoodie to keep Jared close, and it gives him a sudden, amusing shock of wrong. Jared draws back just far enough to murmur, "Is this cool?" Jensen nods and gestures to their clothes. "Just weird, that's all." Jared gets it and grins. "Yeah, but is this cool?" "Yeah." Jensen nods some more, smiling, licking his lips and tugging Jared back in. "Yeah. Do it again." This time, Jensen remembers to kiss back. When they come up for air, they're both grinning, both of them with messed up hair, pink cheeks and smudged makeup, and Jensen realises he's still holding a dented can of beer in his hand. He sets it to one side without looking, almost missing the countertop before he can nudge it to safety, and goes back to getting his hands all over Jared. "So, uh, what are you doing tomorrow?" Jared asks. "Huh?" is Jensen's eloquent response. Jared's got his fingers through Jensen's belt loops, tugging at him, twisting Jensen's hips a little, grinning that big easy grin. He looks mostly like himself again, happy now he's got what he wanted, his bangs hiding his eyes as he watches Jensen's hips bump against him. "Fourth of July," Jared says. "You remember we're in Canada, right?" "Whatever. That didn't stop us last year. I was thinking steaks, beer, and watching the fireworks on TV." Jared glances up without raising his head, and he pulls Jensen's hips in close, slow and inevitable, until they're flush up against one another. "You want in?" Jensen's heart flip-flops in his chest, and he nods. He has to lick his lips to speak. "Yeah," he says, the word riding out on a hoarse little whisper. "Yeah. I do." Jared smiles and touches their mouths together softly, and Jensen thinks, yeah. Yeah, this is it. He's finally home. The end. Leave a comment in livejournal. Email the author | nevermelon AT yahoo.com |