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gilascaveTitle: The Death of Jensen Ackles 1/2
Author: James
Pairing: JA/JP
Rating: PG15
Word Count: 10,300
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit made, events herein not intended to depict real events
Spoilers: none
Warnings: NONE! The title is a metaphor. Nobody dies.
Summary: Jensen and Jared are friends-with-benefits until something happens that changes everything.
Notes: This is AU only in the sense that I dunno if they're really having sex. Otherwise, they're themselves - not doctors or Navy SEALS or anything. Although if someone wants to write them as SEALS I'll happily read that twice. I want to thank my alpha readers for the much hand-holding and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wesleysgirl for the beta!
The Death of Jensen Ackles
It was unusual, but not unheard of, for Jensen to wake up and find himself in bed with Jared. God knew it hadn't taken long for them to get past the awkward 'will he, does he, will it fuck things up' stage and move on to the casual acceptance that sometimes you just wanted to have sex. Jensen hadn't been completely certain it wouldn't fuck things up because he'd known pretty much ten seconds after meeting him that Jared was fond of his girl. But Jared had set him straight -- or not, considering. As soon as the words 'open relationship' had come out of Jared's mouth, Jensen was thinking about whether he'd wanted to get his new co-star back to the hotel for a quick fuck, or if a blowjob in the trailers was better.
Half a year later, however, he wasn't quite used to the rare mornings when he woke up with Jared wrapped around him. Usually one or the other left for his own bed around midnight -- if they weren't stealing time in someone's trailer for a quickie.
This morning Jensen kept his eyes closed and thought about how nice it would be to sleep for another ten hours, with or without Jared in the bed with him. And how nice it might be to sleep without a wet tongue licking his foot.
"Gerrof," he muttered, and he pulled his foot back under the blankets, away from whichever one of Jared's dogs had decided he was breakfast. He heard Jared chuckle. Jensen didn't bother opening his eyes. "Coffee," he demanded, since Jared was, after all, the host.
"Thanks, already had some," came Jared's far too-awake reply. "Are you getting up anytime soon?"
Jensen moved his hand out so Jared couldn't miss the single finger. Jared just laughed again. Then one of the dogs jumped onto the bed and started snuffling at Jensen's back. Whimpering, Jensen tried digging himself further into his pillow.
"Sadie, get down," Jared said, calmly.
"Coffee," Jensen repeated, as the weight left his middle, and a tongue found his nose. He jerked back, and glared at Jared. "Don't you feed them?"
Jared smiled back, innocent and guileless. "Sure. They had breakfast twenty minutes ago, after we got back from our walk. During which I had my coffee." He smiled, and Jensen grumbled.
"Tell me again why I sleep with you?"
Jared looked thoughtful. "Because I'm hot? Because I have the same work schedule? Oh, wait - it's because you have a thing about my hands, and you like the way I can wrap my tongue--"
Jensen rolled over and sat up, grabbing Jared by the wrist. "Is it Sunday?"
"No, it's Friday." Jared looked confused. "Kris is gonna be by to pick us up in half an hour."
"Exactly my point." Jensen let go of Jared's wrist, shoving it away from himself, and scooted out of bed. "Don't talk about sex when we have to be at work and look presentable." He stumbled towards the bathroom, resolutely ignoring the way Jared's laughter followed him.
Half an hour later he was climbing into Kris' mini-van, holding his second cup of coffee and thinking about how he might not have to kill Jared after all. Jared had been standing at the bathroom door when Jensen had stepped out after his shower, holding a mug of fresh coffee. He'd had a paper bag as well, ham and cheese rolls that hadn't been cool enough to risk eating yet. By the time Jensen had finished dressing, Jared had taken the last few drops of Jensen's first mug of coffee, poured them into a travel mug, then topped it off, filling it nearly to the brim.
Between that, and the tongue and hands thing, Jensen figured that maybe he didn't mind so much that Jared was a freak who woke up before dawn and liked it. Or at least he could live with it, even if it was unnatural and annoying.
He could hear Jared in the back seat, running over lines from the script Kris had handed him. They'd changed one of Sam's scenes -- what else was new -- and Jared had the rest of the drive in, and the time in make-up, to forget everything he'd already memorised and learn the new stuff. Jensen was glad that for a change he wasn't shooting a scene with Jared...although with his luck they'd get to work and Jensen would be handed his revisions and not even have the time during the drive to learn his lines.
He listened as Jared mumbled his lines to himself, then said, "Kumquat."
"What?"
Jensen grinned to himself. "Nothing." He waited as Jared began rehearsing his lines again. Then he said, "Meteor."
There was a pause, then, "Jensen, what are you talking about?"
"Nothing, sorry. Don't mind me." He gave Kris, who was trying to stifle her laughter, a grin.
There was another pause, and Jensen could picture the look Jared was giving him. After a moment, though, Jared went back to his lines, speaking to himself more quietly.
"Sycamore."
"What the hell are you doing?" Jared demanded.
"Me? Nothing. Why, am I bothering you?" He turned back, looking at Jared as innocently as he could. Jared looked at him in confusion for a second, then his eyes narrowed. He hit the back of Jensen's seat with his knee; Jensen had to move fast to keep his coffee mug in his hand.
Jared went back to his lines -- silently, but Jensen could tell. He waited until Jared got into the groove again, then said, "Peanut."
His head bounced forward as Jared thumped the headrest; Jensen laughed.
"God, now I know why Steve didn't want you two," Kris muttered. "If you make me drive into something, no one will blame me. Even my insurance will know it wasn't my fault."
Jensen laughed again and threw out, "Marshmallow," even though he knew Jared wasn't even bothering with his lines anymore. Jared thumped him on the back of the head; Kris sighed and muttered something about driving one of the divas from Smallville any day.
Jensen just chuckled and drank his coffee.
~~~
Later that day, of course, Jensen stood off-camera mouthing random words while Jared was setting up to shoot his scene with Mark, their guest victim of the week. Jared ignored him at first, then started throwing things at him, then finally Kim had to ask Jared to concentrate and all Jared did was point at Jensen.
That was how Jensen got kicked off the set for two hours while they shot the scene.
He went back to his trailer to grab a nap -- he wasn't stupid, and he remembered his grandfather talking about how the best thing a soldier learned was to be able to sleep whenever the chance presented itself. He wasn't sure his grandfather would agree this was the same sort of thing, but sleeping when he had a chance was something Jensen was definitely grateful for.
When he woke up, for a dizzying second he thought it was morning again, that he was back in Jared's bed. He even moved his foot tentatively, checking for dog tongues.
Then he opened his eyes, saw his trailer just like it had been when he'd stretched out on the too-short bed at the tail-end. But Jared's face was on the pillow just inches away from his, and Jared's eyes were closed in real sleep.
For a moment, Jensen didn't move. He hadn't even noticed Jared coming in, hadn't noticed him climbing into the bed with him -- too narrow for one huge guy, much less for adding a bedmate the size of Jared Padalecki. But he'd apparently scooted over in his sleep and let Jared wrap his arms and legs around his own, because that was how they were laying, now, when Jensen was pretty sure that when he'd lain down, he'd been sprawled across the mattress.
He opened his mouth to startle Jared awake, then stopped. Out of guilt, of course, because Jared deserved his precious catnaps the same as Jensen, and for all Jensen knew, Jared had only come in a few minutes before.
Clearly his subconscious had got used to sleeping with Jared even if the rest of him hadn't: he could probably count on both hands the number of times they'd actually slept together. The sex between them was casual and fun, and didn't really lend itself to needing post-orgasmic cuddles and romantic breakfasts in bed.
Their friendship wasn't all that geared towards cuddles and romance either -- though Jensen teased the living hell out of Jared for the amount of hands-on posing he did for the photographers. That wasn't anything like this, Jensen knew. It was just Jared being grabby, draping himself all over Jensen like he was the third slobbery dog in the Padalecki household.
Jensen didn't actually mind; photo ops with Jared were the first time he'd come close to not hating the events so much that he spent an hour in the bathroom beforehand trying not to throw up. Hiding next to Jared was easy, and not just because of his size. The way Jared swallowed up his personal space like they were wearing the same pants, the way Jared slung his arm around Jensen and leaned into him, as if making sure that every photo of Jensen had Jared's face in there as well...it made it a hell of a lot easier to get through a photo op without wanting to cut and run.
But this...this was no reason at all. Just asleep, and if Jared had wanted space to be comfortable he could have gone to his own trailer. Maybe he'd wanted to get Jensen back -- as soon as the thought occurred Jensen looked around, best as he could without moving and waking Jared. He didn't see any buckets of water, cans of silly string, or fake doggy shit. So maybe he'd been hoping for an apology, a blowjob to make up for Jensen jerking his chain. And he'd seen Jensen asleep and....
Okay, he had no clue why Jared was asleep with him, unless it had just struck Jared as a fantastic idea and he'd assumed, in his doggy-Jared way, that any space with Jensen in it was his, as well.
That explained it, Jensen realised, and he closed his eyes, trusting someone to rap on the door in time to get them to their next scene on time. He didn't care if Jared wanted to sleep on him -- not unless super-glue had been involved first, in which case Kim was probably going to kill them both.
But it was nice, even squished and uncomfortable as he was. Nice, because it didn't happen very often, and because Jensen knew their relationship wasn't ever going to be about hearts and flowers and cuddles. They were friends and fuck-buddies, and it wasn't like Jensen even really wanted this sort of thing. Jared was a friend, not a boyfriend, and nothing screwed up a good thing faster than demanding something that wasn't on the menu.
But it was nice when it happened.
~~~
The following week, Jensen found himself standing near the catering tent looking for Jared. They'd had weird shooting schedules for the previous few days; with Sam and Dean following separate lines of investigation it meant that one or the other of them was with the second unit half the time.
Yesterday they hadn't even been on location together; when Kris had arrived to pick Jensen up she'd said that she and David had arm-wrestled for driving duties. She didn't explain who won -- or who lost. But finally, with a lunch break on their last day of work for the week, Jensen thought surely Jared would be around somewhere. But he didn't see him anywhere, and normally Jared was pretty hard to miss.
"He's talking to Mike," Sara said, and Jensen blinked at the PA. She kept walking past him, towards the food tables.
Jensen had his mouth open to ask her how she knew who he'd been looking for, then slammed it shut again. It wasn't like they were attached at the hip -- at least not in public, except for photo shoots. And that was all Jared's fault, so why-- Jensen decided he wasn't going to think about it. He headed over to get his lunch and decided he didn't care about where Jared was.
The food was the same Friday spread. Salads of a zillion kinds, fresh fruit, light sandwiches. He could see the blue dotted vegetarian dishes gathered together, the pork-free dishes with their pink dots and the little yellow dots that Jared always said were the 'pee here' dishes. They'd actually never figured out what the yellow dot was for; Jensen privately thought the caterer was messing with their minds.
He grabbed enough lunch to keep him going 'til dinner, taking a long look at the dessert tray before picking just a couple of cookies and ignoring the little squares of cheesecake. He had to spend all his free time at the gym already; Jensen knew better than to tempt fate by eating a plateful of mini cheesecakes.
Maggie saw him and picked one up, popping it in her mouth and making the most god-awful, sinful moaning noises he'd ever heard in a food tent.
"Bitch," he told her, and she grinned, patting her belly.
"Eating for two, it's not my fault if I crave cheesecake," she said unrepentantly.
"You craved cheesecake before," he pointed out; Maggie didn't deny it. She did grab another few cheesecake squares, putting most of them on her plate but as she ate a second one, Jensen scurried away. Some things he just did not need to hear once, much less twice.
He wandered around outside the catering tent, trying to look like he wasn't keeping an eye out for Jared. He ate quickly out of habit, not even trying to keep his chopped fruit out of the green salad and vice versa. As a kid he'd often mashed his food all together in an attempt to gross out his sister -- it hadn't ever worked, but he'd learned not to care about things like savoring the flavor of one ingredient over another.
He'd almost finished his salad when he felt the tingling on his tongue. Jensen froze for a second, telling himself There is no way. He glanced down at his plate and didn't see any kiwi. Nothing he didn't eat every damn Friday, but his breath was already growing short and his throat itched and he dropped his plate, hands reaching for the kit he kept in his jacket.
He had time to think how he hadn't needed the thing since he was nine, and how glad he was his mother had drilled him on carrying it anyway, all the time, just in case.
"Jensen? What's wrong?"
He looked over to see Rod, one of the lighting guys, standing beside him with a concerned expression. Jensen got his hand on his kit, pulled it out and thrust it at Rod, ripping off his jacket and trying to say something -- but then he felt his stomach clench and he was down on his knees vomiting. He could hear people talking, hear Rod asking him questions and Jensen tried to get the words out, any word at all.
His throat was closing more, making it hard to breathe and hard to vomit again. His stomach churned and he was getting dizzy; heart beating loud and fast in his ears and he didn't know if it was the allergic reaction or the fear -- memory of the last time, when they'd found out that Jensen was allergic to kiwi by finding out just how severely allergic he was.
He tried to wave a hand at Rod, wondering why the fuck he wasn't-- everything was getting dim around the edges of his vision and he felt someone grab his arm. A second later he felt the sting of the Epi-pen and thanked god that someone had figured it out, even if a second later he realised the anaphylactic reaction wasn't stopping. He didn't want to wonder if he'd gotten the shot soon enough.
But he was shaking now, and he tried to keep himself from falling face forward -- tried to gasp for air and it was getting even harder. Jensen opened his mouth wider, trying to suck in air and he wanted to scream at someone to do something, only he couldn't talk, and the last thing he thought before everything went black was that he needed someone to do something quickly.
~~~
When Jensen opened his eyes, he saw a hospital room. His bed was surrounded by machines, and instead of looking frightening, Jensen found it the best damn thing he'd ever seen. He relaxed -- if he needed proof they'd been in time, just waking up was sign enough. He turned his head, feeling aching muscles protesting, and blinked in surprise as he saw Jared sitting in a chair.
Jared was staring at the floor, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together and for a second it looked like he was praying. Jensen stared at him as other sensations slowly trickled in. There was an oxygen tube under his nose, an IV taped to his hand. Machines beeping softly and something stuck to his chest -- he glanced down and saw the wires running out from under his shirt to one of the machines.
All exactly like the first time. Although he was glad not to have a hysterical mother beside his bed; he looked at Jared again and tried to say something. All he got out was an unintelligible groan, but it was enough.
Jared's head flew up and his eyes widened when he saw Jensen looking at him. He was on his feet and walking forward, pulling himself short of getting close enough to touch. He was pale, obviously scared and trying hard to look calm and reassuring.
Jensen swallowed, relieved to discover his throat wasn't closed tight anymore. It was sore as hell, though, and when he tried to say Jared's name he immediately regretted it. Jared grabbed his hand and squeezed it carefully.
"Don't try to talk yet, man," he said. "They had to... to.. god, Jensen. They had to -- I forget what they called it. Had to keep you from suffocating. The paramedics shoved a tube down your throat." His voice was soft; thin and wavering ever so slightly.
Jensen nodded. He tried to give Jared's hand a squeeze back, wanted to tell him it was all right, that everything was fine now. Jared still looked like he might fall over -- Jensen figured if you were gonna faint, fainting at the hospital was the best place to do it.
"You scared the shit out of Rod," Jared continued, making an obvious effort not to freak out. "He had no idea... christ, Jensen, no one knew you were allergic to anything like this. Except the on-set paramedic and Susan from the catering company said she had everything on her list -- she swears up and down there was no kiwi anywhere, but the network is having a field day, threatening lawsuits and criminal negligence and...." Jared swallowed. When he spoke again, his voice sounded close to breaking. "I had no idea you-- I thought that little black case was to carry around your glasses."
Jensen knew better than to try talking again, so he tugged at Jared's hand. He mouthed, 'I'm sorry', and tried to look as sincere as he could. He watched as Jared tried to compose himself.
"When your throat doesn't hurt, you're going to tell me everything," Jared finally said.
Jensen just nodded.
~~~
The hospital released him after twenty four hours; a decision Jared had argued with, pointing out over and over that Jensen had nearly died and didn't they think they needed to make sure it didn't happen again? The doctor had had to sit down and explain in great detail the nature of food allergies and anaphylaxis.
Jared had grudgingly been reassured that Jensen wouldn't keel over if released -- that as long as he didn't eat kiwi, he would be fine. Finally convinced, Jared had escorted Jensen out of the hospital and taken him home.
Jensen hadn't argued when Jared pointed him towards the couch. He felt okay, just a little tired and his throat still hurt, but he knew Jared deserved a chance to over-react. It wasn't every day a guy saw his friend get a tube jammed down his throat to make sure he didn't die, after all.
Settling himself on the couch, he waited as Jared went into the kitchen, then came back a few minutes later with a mug of hot tea. Jensen took it, holding it in both hands as it cooled enough to drink, and waited.
Jared paced for several minutes, and Jensen watched as his mouth moved, as though trying out and discarding things to say. He took a tentative sip of his tea and discovered it was still too hot. Finally Jared turned and looked at him, saying nothing.
"I was nine," Jensen said, keeping his voice soft in deference to his still-sore throat. "We had no idea I was allergic to anything, and one day I had a piece of kiwi and..." He shrugged, knowing Jared didn't need a description of that. "I was in the hospital, my parents freaking out and everyone screaming at my aunt, who'd fed me the thing. Not her fault, no one knew, but she still sends me cards with money for my birthday, out of guilt." Jensen smiled briefly. "I put the cash in her daughter's birthday card. For all I know she sends it right back, and we've been recycling the same hundred dollar bill every year."
"You never-- I had no idea," Jared said, as Jensen stopped to try his tea again. Still hot, but now he could taste the honey Jared had added.
"I haven't had an allergic attack since then," Jensen explained. "Hell, sometimes I thought maybe I wasn't allergic anymore, that I'd grown out of it."
"You still carry that epinephrine pen." Jared sounded eerily calm, barely moving as he stared over at Jensen.
Jensen nodded. "I got used to it. Every single day until I moved out, my mother would stop me before I left the house and make me prove I had it on me. The first couple of months after I moved to L.A, she called nearly every day, making sure. It's...not like it's in the way or anything." He paused, then decided not to tell Jared about the two years he'd stopped carrying it, believing that he wouldn't need it. He'd begun again when he'd been cast on Dark Angel -- something about insurance, he'd been told he had to carry it at all times, and Jensen hadn't had any reason to argue. Like he'd turn down a job because he didn't want to have an Epi-Pen in his pocket?
"So... this was... a freak thing?" Jared was frowning, clearly not ready to believe him when he said yes, but visibly starting to relax, just a little.
Jensen nodded. "Twice in twenty years isn't a regular occurrence," he said carefully. He didn't need to piss Jared off by acting like it was no big deal. But he knew once Jared got used to it, he'd be okay. Right now he was still expecting Jared to blow up at him, yell at him for accidentally eating the damn thing or something.
He watched as Jared thought it over, chewing on his lower lip. Jensen just drank his tea and left him to it. When he finished the tea, he started to set the empty mug aside; Jared moved forward and took it. "You want more?"
"Nah, I'm good."
Jared hovered for a second, then he took the mug back to the kitchen. There was a pause, then Jensen heard a cabinet door open. Then close, and open, and close, and he realised that Jared was checking out the entire pantry.
He got up and went in after him, leaning against the doorway as Jared pawed through the fridge. "I don't have anything with kiwi in it," Jensen told him.
"I know. I didn't think you would-- I'm just... hell, Jensen, did you ever tell me not to put kiwi in something?" Jared glared at Jensen, looking scared and angry all over again.
"You've fixed dinner for me exactly twice," Jensen pointed out. "We usually grab something at a restaurant or order in. You've never had the chance to ki--" He swallowed the words 'kill me', because Jared wouldn't take it for a joke. "I always paid attention to what I was eating, Jared. I'm not nine anymore."
Jared scowled. "I was-- fine. You can take care of yourself." He shut the fridge and stormed out of the kitchen, brushing Jensen back against the doorjamb.
"Hey! Jared," Jensen called after him. Jared didn't stop right away; when he did, Jensen said, "I'm sorry."
Jared didn't look back at him, but after a moment, he nodded. He stood there, not moving, and Jensen waited, wondering if Jared was over freaking out yet. He suspected not.
Then Jared half-turned his head back towards him and asked hesitantly, "It's all right if I stick around tonight?"
"Sure," Jensen said, carefully casual. "Not because anything's going to happen to me, but because it's all right if you stay."
Jared nodded, then he moved over to the couch, picking up the remote then setting it back down, fidgeting as he looked around for something to do.
"You wanna kick my ass?" Jensen asked, and as Jared's head snapped up, Jensen smiled and gestured at the Playstation.
"You're on," Jared said, and if his voice didn't hold much of its usual confidence, neither of them mentioned it.
end part one
continue to part two
Author: James
Pairing: JA/JP
Rating: PG15
Word Count: 10,300
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit made, events herein not intended to depict real events
Spoilers: none
Warnings: NONE! The title is a metaphor. Nobody dies.
Summary: Jensen and Jared are friends-with-benefits until something happens that changes everything.
Notes: This is AU only in the sense that I dunno if they're really having sex. Otherwise, they're themselves - not doctors or Navy SEALS or anything. Although if someone wants to write them as SEALS I'll happily read that twice. I want to thank my alpha readers for the much hand-holding and
wesleysgirl for the beta! The Death of Jensen Ackles
It was unusual, but not unheard of, for Jensen to wake up and find himself in bed with Jared. God knew it hadn't taken long for them to get past the awkward 'will he, does he, will it fuck things up' stage and move on to the casual acceptance that sometimes you just wanted to have sex. Jensen hadn't been completely certain it wouldn't fuck things up because he'd known pretty much ten seconds after meeting him that Jared was fond of his girl. But Jared had set him straight -- or not, considering. As soon as the words 'open relationship' had come out of Jared's mouth, Jensen was thinking about whether he'd wanted to get his new co-star back to the hotel for a quick fuck, or if a blowjob in the trailers was better.
Half a year later, however, he wasn't quite used to the rare mornings when he woke up with Jared wrapped around him. Usually one or the other left for his own bed around midnight -- if they weren't stealing time in someone's trailer for a quickie.
This morning Jensen kept his eyes closed and thought about how nice it would be to sleep for another ten hours, with or without Jared in the bed with him. And how nice it might be to sleep without a wet tongue licking his foot.
"Gerrof," he muttered, and he pulled his foot back under the blankets, away from whichever one of Jared's dogs had decided he was breakfast. He heard Jared chuckle. Jensen didn't bother opening his eyes. "Coffee," he demanded, since Jared was, after all, the host.
"Thanks, already had some," came Jared's far too-awake reply. "Are you getting up anytime soon?"
Jensen moved his hand out so Jared couldn't miss the single finger. Jared just laughed again. Then one of the dogs jumped onto the bed and started snuffling at Jensen's back. Whimpering, Jensen tried digging himself further into his pillow.
"Sadie, get down," Jared said, calmly.
"Coffee," Jensen repeated, as the weight left his middle, and a tongue found his nose. He jerked back, and glared at Jared. "Don't you feed them?"
Jared smiled back, innocent and guileless. "Sure. They had breakfast twenty minutes ago, after we got back from our walk. During which I had my coffee." He smiled, and Jensen grumbled.
"Tell me again why I sleep with you?"
Jared looked thoughtful. "Because I'm hot? Because I have the same work schedule? Oh, wait - it's because you have a thing about my hands, and you like the way I can wrap my tongue--"
Jensen rolled over and sat up, grabbing Jared by the wrist. "Is it Sunday?"
"No, it's Friday." Jared looked confused. "Kris is gonna be by to pick us up in half an hour."
"Exactly my point." Jensen let go of Jared's wrist, shoving it away from himself, and scooted out of bed. "Don't talk about sex when we have to be at work and look presentable." He stumbled towards the bathroom, resolutely ignoring the way Jared's laughter followed him.
Half an hour later he was climbing into Kris' mini-van, holding his second cup of coffee and thinking about how he might not have to kill Jared after all. Jared had been standing at the bathroom door when Jensen had stepped out after his shower, holding a mug of fresh coffee. He'd had a paper bag as well, ham and cheese rolls that hadn't been cool enough to risk eating yet. By the time Jensen had finished dressing, Jared had taken the last few drops of Jensen's first mug of coffee, poured them into a travel mug, then topped it off, filling it nearly to the brim.
Between that, and the tongue and hands thing, Jensen figured that maybe he didn't mind so much that Jared was a freak who woke up before dawn and liked it. Or at least he could live with it, even if it was unnatural and annoying.
He could hear Jared in the back seat, running over lines from the script Kris had handed him. They'd changed one of Sam's scenes -- what else was new -- and Jared had the rest of the drive in, and the time in make-up, to forget everything he'd already memorised and learn the new stuff. Jensen was glad that for a change he wasn't shooting a scene with Jared...although with his luck they'd get to work and Jensen would be handed his revisions and not even have the time during the drive to learn his lines.
He listened as Jared mumbled his lines to himself, then said, "Kumquat."
"What?"
Jensen grinned to himself. "Nothing." He waited as Jared began rehearsing his lines again. Then he said, "Meteor."
There was a pause, then, "Jensen, what are you talking about?"
"Nothing, sorry. Don't mind me." He gave Kris, who was trying to stifle her laughter, a grin.
There was another pause, and Jensen could picture the look Jared was giving him. After a moment, though, Jared went back to his lines, speaking to himself more quietly.
"Sycamore."
"What the hell are you doing?" Jared demanded.
"Me? Nothing. Why, am I bothering you?" He turned back, looking at Jared as innocently as he could. Jared looked at him in confusion for a second, then his eyes narrowed. He hit the back of Jensen's seat with his knee; Jensen had to move fast to keep his coffee mug in his hand.
Jared went back to his lines -- silently, but Jensen could tell. He waited until Jared got into the groove again, then said, "Peanut."
His head bounced forward as Jared thumped the headrest; Jensen laughed.
"God, now I know why Steve didn't want you two," Kris muttered. "If you make me drive into something, no one will blame me. Even my insurance will know it wasn't my fault."
Jensen laughed again and threw out, "Marshmallow," even though he knew Jared wasn't even bothering with his lines anymore. Jared thumped him on the back of the head; Kris sighed and muttered something about driving one of the divas from Smallville any day.
Jensen just chuckled and drank his coffee.
~~~
Later that day, of course, Jensen stood off-camera mouthing random words while Jared was setting up to shoot his scene with Mark, their guest victim of the week. Jared ignored him at first, then started throwing things at him, then finally Kim had to ask Jared to concentrate and all Jared did was point at Jensen.
That was how Jensen got kicked off the set for two hours while they shot the scene.
He went back to his trailer to grab a nap -- he wasn't stupid, and he remembered his grandfather talking about how the best thing a soldier learned was to be able to sleep whenever the chance presented itself. He wasn't sure his grandfather would agree this was the same sort of thing, but sleeping when he had a chance was something Jensen was definitely grateful for.
When he woke up, for a dizzying second he thought it was morning again, that he was back in Jared's bed. He even moved his foot tentatively, checking for dog tongues.
Then he opened his eyes, saw his trailer just like it had been when he'd stretched out on the too-short bed at the tail-end. But Jared's face was on the pillow just inches away from his, and Jared's eyes were closed in real sleep.
For a moment, Jensen didn't move. He hadn't even noticed Jared coming in, hadn't noticed him climbing into the bed with him -- too narrow for one huge guy, much less for adding a bedmate the size of Jared Padalecki. But he'd apparently scooted over in his sleep and let Jared wrap his arms and legs around his own, because that was how they were laying, now, when Jensen was pretty sure that when he'd lain down, he'd been sprawled across the mattress.
He opened his mouth to startle Jared awake, then stopped. Out of guilt, of course, because Jared deserved his precious catnaps the same as Jensen, and for all Jensen knew, Jared had only come in a few minutes before.
Clearly his subconscious had got used to sleeping with Jared even if the rest of him hadn't: he could probably count on both hands the number of times they'd actually slept together. The sex between them was casual and fun, and didn't really lend itself to needing post-orgasmic cuddles and romantic breakfasts in bed.
Their friendship wasn't all that geared towards cuddles and romance either -- though Jensen teased the living hell out of Jared for the amount of hands-on posing he did for the photographers. That wasn't anything like this, Jensen knew. It was just Jared being grabby, draping himself all over Jensen like he was the third slobbery dog in the Padalecki household.
Jensen didn't actually mind; photo ops with Jared were the first time he'd come close to not hating the events so much that he spent an hour in the bathroom beforehand trying not to throw up. Hiding next to Jared was easy, and not just because of his size. The way Jared swallowed up his personal space like they were wearing the same pants, the way Jared slung his arm around Jensen and leaned into him, as if making sure that every photo of Jensen had Jared's face in there as well...it made it a hell of a lot easier to get through a photo op without wanting to cut and run.
But this...this was no reason at all. Just asleep, and if Jared had wanted space to be comfortable he could have gone to his own trailer. Maybe he'd wanted to get Jensen back -- as soon as the thought occurred Jensen looked around, best as he could without moving and waking Jared. He didn't see any buckets of water, cans of silly string, or fake doggy shit. So maybe he'd been hoping for an apology, a blowjob to make up for Jensen jerking his chain. And he'd seen Jensen asleep and....
Okay, he had no clue why Jared was asleep with him, unless it had just struck Jared as a fantastic idea and he'd assumed, in his doggy-Jared way, that any space with Jensen in it was his, as well.
That explained it, Jensen realised, and he closed his eyes, trusting someone to rap on the door in time to get them to their next scene on time. He didn't care if Jared wanted to sleep on him -- not unless super-glue had been involved first, in which case Kim was probably going to kill them both.
But it was nice, even squished and uncomfortable as he was. Nice, because it didn't happen very often, and because Jensen knew their relationship wasn't ever going to be about hearts and flowers and cuddles. They were friends and fuck-buddies, and it wasn't like Jensen even really wanted this sort of thing. Jared was a friend, not a boyfriend, and nothing screwed up a good thing faster than demanding something that wasn't on the menu.
But it was nice when it happened.
~~~
The following week, Jensen found himself standing near the catering tent looking for Jared. They'd had weird shooting schedules for the previous few days; with Sam and Dean following separate lines of investigation it meant that one or the other of them was with the second unit half the time.
Yesterday they hadn't even been on location together; when Kris had arrived to pick Jensen up she'd said that she and David had arm-wrestled for driving duties. She didn't explain who won -- or who lost. But finally, with a lunch break on their last day of work for the week, Jensen thought surely Jared would be around somewhere. But he didn't see him anywhere, and normally Jared was pretty hard to miss.
"He's talking to Mike," Sara said, and Jensen blinked at the PA. She kept walking past him, towards the food tables.
Jensen had his mouth open to ask her how she knew who he'd been looking for, then slammed it shut again. It wasn't like they were attached at the hip -- at least not in public, except for photo shoots. And that was all Jared's fault, so why-- Jensen decided he wasn't going to think about it. He headed over to get his lunch and decided he didn't care about where Jared was.
The food was the same Friday spread. Salads of a zillion kinds, fresh fruit, light sandwiches. He could see the blue dotted vegetarian dishes gathered together, the pork-free dishes with their pink dots and the little yellow dots that Jared always said were the 'pee here' dishes. They'd actually never figured out what the yellow dot was for; Jensen privately thought the caterer was messing with their minds.
He grabbed enough lunch to keep him going 'til dinner, taking a long look at the dessert tray before picking just a couple of cookies and ignoring the little squares of cheesecake. He had to spend all his free time at the gym already; Jensen knew better than to tempt fate by eating a plateful of mini cheesecakes.
Maggie saw him and picked one up, popping it in her mouth and making the most god-awful, sinful moaning noises he'd ever heard in a food tent.
"Bitch," he told her, and she grinned, patting her belly.
"Eating for two, it's not my fault if I crave cheesecake," she said unrepentantly.
"You craved cheesecake before," he pointed out; Maggie didn't deny it. She did grab another few cheesecake squares, putting most of them on her plate but as she ate a second one, Jensen scurried away. Some things he just did not need to hear once, much less twice.
He wandered around outside the catering tent, trying to look like he wasn't keeping an eye out for Jared. He ate quickly out of habit, not even trying to keep his chopped fruit out of the green salad and vice versa. As a kid he'd often mashed his food all together in an attempt to gross out his sister -- it hadn't ever worked, but he'd learned not to care about things like savoring the flavor of one ingredient over another.
He'd almost finished his salad when he felt the tingling on his tongue. Jensen froze for a second, telling himself There is no way. He glanced down at his plate and didn't see any kiwi. Nothing he didn't eat every damn Friday, but his breath was already growing short and his throat itched and he dropped his plate, hands reaching for the kit he kept in his jacket.
He had time to think how he hadn't needed the thing since he was nine, and how glad he was his mother had drilled him on carrying it anyway, all the time, just in case.
"Jensen? What's wrong?"
He looked over to see Rod, one of the lighting guys, standing beside him with a concerned expression. Jensen got his hand on his kit, pulled it out and thrust it at Rod, ripping off his jacket and trying to say something -- but then he felt his stomach clench and he was down on his knees vomiting. He could hear people talking, hear Rod asking him questions and Jensen tried to get the words out, any word at all.
His throat was closing more, making it hard to breathe and hard to vomit again. His stomach churned and he was getting dizzy; heart beating loud and fast in his ears and he didn't know if it was the allergic reaction or the fear -- memory of the last time, when they'd found out that Jensen was allergic to kiwi by finding out just how severely allergic he was.
He tried to wave a hand at Rod, wondering why the fuck he wasn't-- everything was getting dim around the edges of his vision and he felt someone grab his arm. A second later he felt the sting of the Epi-pen and thanked god that someone had figured it out, even if a second later he realised the anaphylactic reaction wasn't stopping. He didn't want to wonder if he'd gotten the shot soon enough.
But he was shaking now, and he tried to keep himself from falling face forward -- tried to gasp for air and it was getting even harder. Jensen opened his mouth wider, trying to suck in air and he wanted to scream at someone to do something, only he couldn't talk, and the last thing he thought before everything went black was that he needed someone to do something quickly.
~~~
When Jensen opened his eyes, he saw a hospital room. His bed was surrounded by machines, and instead of looking frightening, Jensen found it the best damn thing he'd ever seen. He relaxed -- if he needed proof they'd been in time, just waking up was sign enough. He turned his head, feeling aching muscles protesting, and blinked in surprise as he saw Jared sitting in a chair.
Jared was staring at the floor, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together and for a second it looked like he was praying. Jensen stared at him as other sensations slowly trickled in. There was an oxygen tube under his nose, an IV taped to his hand. Machines beeping softly and something stuck to his chest -- he glanced down and saw the wires running out from under his shirt to one of the machines.
All exactly like the first time. Although he was glad not to have a hysterical mother beside his bed; he looked at Jared again and tried to say something. All he got out was an unintelligible groan, but it was enough.
Jared's head flew up and his eyes widened when he saw Jensen looking at him. He was on his feet and walking forward, pulling himself short of getting close enough to touch. He was pale, obviously scared and trying hard to look calm and reassuring.
Jensen swallowed, relieved to discover his throat wasn't closed tight anymore. It was sore as hell, though, and when he tried to say Jared's name he immediately regretted it. Jared grabbed his hand and squeezed it carefully.
"Don't try to talk yet, man," he said. "They had to... to.. god, Jensen. They had to -- I forget what they called it. Had to keep you from suffocating. The paramedics shoved a tube down your throat." His voice was soft; thin and wavering ever so slightly.
Jensen nodded. He tried to give Jared's hand a squeeze back, wanted to tell him it was all right, that everything was fine now. Jared still looked like he might fall over -- Jensen figured if you were gonna faint, fainting at the hospital was the best place to do it.
"You scared the shit out of Rod," Jared continued, making an obvious effort not to freak out. "He had no idea... christ, Jensen, no one knew you were allergic to anything like this. Except the on-set paramedic and Susan from the catering company said she had everything on her list -- she swears up and down there was no kiwi anywhere, but the network is having a field day, threatening lawsuits and criminal negligence and...." Jared swallowed. When he spoke again, his voice sounded close to breaking. "I had no idea you-- I thought that little black case was to carry around your glasses."
Jensen knew better than to try talking again, so he tugged at Jared's hand. He mouthed, 'I'm sorry', and tried to look as sincere as he could. He watched as Jared tried to compose himself.
"When your throat doesn't hurt, you're going to tell me everything," Jared finally said.
Jensen just nodded.
~~~
The hospital released him after twenty four hours; a decision Jared had argued with, pointing out over and over that Jensen had nearly died and didn't they think they needed to make sure it didn't happen again? The doctor had had to sit down and explain in great detail the nature of food allergies and anaphylaxis.
Jared had grudgingly been reassured that Jensen wouldn't keel over if released -- that as long as he didn't eat kiwi, he would be fine. Finally convinced, Jared had escorted Jensen out of the hospital and taken him home.
Jensen hadn't argued when Jared pointed him towards the couch. He felt okay, just a little tired and his throat still hurt, but he knew Jared deserved a chance to over-react. It wasn't every day a guy saw his friend get a tube jammed down his throat to make sure he didn't die, after all.
Settling himself on the couch, he waited as Jared went into the kitchen, then came back a few minutes later with a mug of hot tea. Jensen took it, holding it in both hands as it cooled enough to drink, and waited.
Jared paced for several minutes, and Jensen watched as his mouth moved, as though trying out and discarding things to say. He took a tentative sip of his tea and discovered it was still too hot. Finally Jared turned and looked at him, saying nothing.
"I was nine," Jensen said, keeping his voice soft in deference to his still-sore throat. "We had no idea I was allergic to anything, and one day I had a piece of kiwi and..." He shrugged, knowing Jared didn't need a description of that. "I was in the hospital, my parents freaking out and everyone screaming at my aunt, who'd fed me the thing. Not her fault, no one knew, but she still sends me cards with money for my birthday, out of guilt." Jensen smiled briefly. "I put the cash in her daughter's birthday card. For all I know she sends it right back, and we've been recycling the same hundred dollar bill every year."
"You never-- I had no idea," Jared said, as Jensen stopped to try his tea again. Still hot, but now he could taste the honey Jared had added.
"I haven't had an allergic attack since then," Jensen explained. "Hell, sometimes I thought maybe I wasn't allergic anymore, that I'd grown out of it."
"You still carry that epinephrine pen." Jared sounded eerily calm, barely moving as he stared over at Jensen.
Jensen nodded. "I got used to it. Every single day until I moved out, my mother would stop me before I left the house and make me prove I had it on me. The first couple of months after I moved to L.A, she called nearly every day, making sure. It's...not like it's in the way or anything." He paused, then decided not to tell Jared about the two years he'd stopped carrying it, believing that he wouldn't need it. He'd begun again when he'd been cast on Dark Angel -- something about insurance, he'd been told he had to carry it at all times, and Jensen hadn't had any reason to argue. Like he'd turn down a job because he didn't want to have an Epi-Pen in his pocket?
"So... this was... a freak thing?" Jared was frowning, clearly not ready to believe him when he said yes, but visibly starting to relax, just a little.
Jensen nodded. "Twice in twenty years isn't a regular occurrence," he said carefully. He didn't need to piss Jared off by acting like it was no big deal. But he knew once Jared got used to it, he'd be okay. Right now he was still expecting Jared to blow up at him, yell at him for accidentally eating the damn thing or something.
He watched as Jared thought it over, chewing on his lower lip. Jensen just drank his tea and left him to it. When he finished the tea, he started to set the empty mug aside; Jared moved forward and took it. "You want more?"
"Nah, I'm good."
Jared hovered for a second, then he took the mug back to the kitchen. There was a pause, then Jensen heard a cabinet door open. Then close, and open, and close, and he realised that Jared was checking out the entire pantry.
He got up and went in after him, leaning against the doorway as Jared pawed through the fridge. "I don't have anything with kiwi in it," Jensen told him.
"I know. I didn't think you would-- I'm just... hell, Jensen, did you ever tell me not to put kiwi in something?" Jared glared at Jensen, looking scared and angry all over again.
"You've fixed dinner for me exactly twice," Jensen pointed out. "We usually grab something at a restaurant or order in. You've never had the chance to ki--" He swallowed the words 'kill me', because Jared wouldn't take it for a joke. "I always paid attention to what I was eating, Jared. I'm not nine anymore."
Jared scowled. "I was-- fine. You can take care of yourself." He shut the fridge and stormed out of the kitchen, brushing Jensen back against the doorjamb.
"Hey! Jared," Jensen called after him. Jared didn't stop right away; when he did, Jensen said, "I'm sorry."
Jared didn't look back at him, but after a moment, he nodded. He stood there, not moving, and Jensen waited, wondering if Jared was over freaking out yet. He suspected not.
Then Jared half-turned his head back towards him and asked hesitantly, "It's all right if I stick around tonight?"
"Sure," Jensen said, carefully casual. "Not because anything's going to happen to me, but because it's all right if you stay."
Jared nodded, then he moved over to the couch, picking up the remote then setting it back down, fidgeting as he looked around for something to do.
"You wanna kick my ass?" Jensen asked, and as Jared's head snapped up, Jensen smiled and gestured at the Playstation.
"You're on," Jared said, and if his voice didn't hold much of its usual confidence, neither of them mentioned it.
end part one
continue to part two