Archive of Our Own

“Hey, mama. Guess what? I think I got the part! Yeah, really. They liked me; they really did. Yeah, I know. But I’ve got a good feeling about this. What? I don’t know. Some guy. Ackles. Jensen Ackles. Me neither. I’ll Google him when I get home. Mama, you worry too much. I’m sure he’ll be great. Now, put Meg on. I wanna gloat.”

The elevator slides shut, abruptly cutting off the happy laughter. Twenty feet down the hall a man stands nodding his head. His brow is furrowed, his eyes blink rapidly. The fingers on his right hand tap against his thumb. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger, pinky, ring finger, middle finger, index finger, middle finger…

“Jensen,” a voice says, and he looks up. An elderly woman smiles at him. “They’re ready for you.”

He nods. His fingers keep tapping up until the moment he steps through the door and into character.

Jared loves the Internet. And not just for porn, whatever Chad says. He just loves that whenever he needs to know something, he can flip open his laptop and get more information than he ever needed with just a few clicks. Which is why it frustrates him no end, when he looks up Jensen Ackles and finds nothing.

Okay, so he gets the basics. Jensen’s full name, (Jensen Ross Ackles) date of birth, (March 1^st 1978) what parts he’s played (Days of Our Lives, Dark Angel, Dawson’s Creek, Smallville… a few low budget – and even lower quality – movies.) There are some promo stills and video captures that show Jensen – a tall, fit and, oh, wow, unfairly handsome guy – in various characters. But that’s pretty much it. Jensen Ackles doesn’t give interviews it says on IMDb. He doesn’t attend events. No one seems to know anything about him. There’s a quote from one of his co-stars describing him as ‘very private’. Jared snorts. No kidding. The guy doesn’t seem to exist outside his work. How sad is that?

Well, if the Internet won’t provide then he has to go through other channels. First on the list is Tom Welling. Not like they’re friends, or anything even remotely close to that, but, hey, he’s kept the guy’s number on his phone since Cheaper By the Dozen. In Hollywood contacts are everything.

“Jensen?” Tom repeats and then stays quiet for a long time. Finally he says, “He’s… different.”

“Okay,” Jared says, confused. “Different how?”

Tom sighs. “Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t talk about it.”

Jared blinks. “What?”

“It’s complicated. Just… be nice, okay?”

“When am I not nice?” Jared asks, a little insulted, but Tom doesn’t rise to the bait.

“Be even nicer,” is all he says and hangs up.

Jared sits staring at the phone, bewildered. What the hell does that even mean?

He calls Chad but gets cut off as soon as he mentions Dawson’s Creek. “Nuhuh. We never did an episode together. He didn’t get on until after I’d left.”

“Okay, but you must talk to them sometimes,” Jared argues. “They never mention him?”

“Why would I talk to them?” Chad asks confused. “I hated that show.”

Jared sighs.

Next step is getting the DVDs. He feels a little like a stalker, raiding Best Buy for everything Jensen related, but no one looks at him funny, and he gets home with the second season of Dark Angel and season six of Dawson’s Creek.

Jared’s first thought when Alec (X5-494, whatever) enters the cell in the first episode of the second season of Dark Angel is that the promos didn’t do Jensen Ackles justice. No wonder they had him playing a transgenic, he looks like he was made in a frigging lab.

The plan was to just sit back and enjoy the show, but instead Jared finds himself fast forwarding to Jensen’s scenes, watching him be Alec. The more he watches the deeper his heart sinks. Fuck. Just look at the guy. He’s hot, charming, and he delivers the crappy writing like it’s goddamn Shakespeare. Jared doesn’t normally have self-esteem issues, but he’s starting to feel like he might be getting in over his head. Who’s even going to notice him with that guy in the room?

Watching Dawson’s Creek makes him feel slightly better, but only because not even Jensen’s limited (although admittedly amazing) screen time can hold his interest for more than ten minutes. Way too much drama for his taste. He switches back to Dark Angel and ends up mainlining half a season before stumbling to bed at two in the morning, Alec’s smug smirk mocking him in his dreams.

Despite his mother’s philosophy, things actually don’t look any better in the morning. Jared drags himself to the studio, nervous as hell and feeling so disheartened that he’s sure he’ll be asked to leave within minutes.

The first thing he sees when he steps into the waiting room is the man sitting on the couch: Jensen Ackles, in the flesh. Jared hesitates, his palms going damp. He feels a little overwhelmed facing the man, especially considering the dreams he’d woken up from that morning. Jared fights down the blush that threatens to creep up his neck at the memory and takes a moment just… looking.

Jensen seems tense. His knees are bouncing, one after the other, and he keeps drumming his fingers on his thighs, then flattening his palms to wipe them on his pants. His eyes are fixed on the door to the audition room, so intensely he doesn’t even notice Jared where he stands in the doorway, staring at Jensen’s really ridiculously beautiful profile. Just look at those lips! Man, this is so unfair.

Before he starts feeling too much like an ogling pervert, Jared enters the room, closing the door quietly behind him. “Hey,” he says as he approaches the couch.

Jensen jumps in his seat. He looks up, eyes widening for a second, before his gaze quickly drops, and his cheeks flush pink. “Jared Padalecki,” he says, his tone a little odd. “Sam Winchester.”

Jared smiles. “Yep, that’s me. And you must be my brother, Dean.”

Jensen quickly shakes his head. “No. I’m not Dean. And I’m not your brother. Dean is Sam’s brother. You’re not Sam.”

Jared blinks, not sure how to respond. “I just meant you will be playing my… I mean Sam’s brother. Right? Jensen Ackles?”

Jensen nods. “Yes.” He seems to hesitate then sticks out his hand, smiling awkwardly. “Hello. Nice to meet you.”

Jared takes the hand. It’s smaller than his, but then again most people’s are. The fingers feel strong but still somehow delicate. Unsure. The palm is sweaty, and he can feel Jensen’s heartbeat racing manically under his thumb, where it lands on the inside of Jensen’s wrist. It’s quite the reality check. Jared had expected someone like Jensen to be professionally cool and in control, but if anything he seems more nervous than Jared.

The handshake is brief, and when Jensen withdraws his hand he quickly wipes the palm on his thigh. He’s casually dressed in jeans and a black shirt, in which he still manages to look stiff and uncomfortable. Actually Jensen looks uncomfortable just being there. Oddly enough, that makes Jared feel a whole lot better. Seems the guy is human after all.

Jared sits down on the other end of the couch, trying to be discreet, but he just can’t stop looking at Jensen. Even here, in the rather unflattering light, without any retouch or make-up and basically being a fidgety, nervous wreck, Jensen still looks gorgeous. Jensen must be aware that he’s being watched, but he doesn’t say anything, just sits there rubbing his hands nervously together, and occasionally stealing glances Jared’s way, but mostly keeping his eyes on the door like before.

“So,” Jared starts when the silence starts grating on his own nerves, “Vancouver, huh?”

Jensen nods. “Canada’s third largest city as well as the third largest film-producing center in North-America,” he says. “Population a little under five hundred and eighty thousand, of which more than fifty percent have a native language other than English.”

Jared blinks. “Okay. I was more going for, ‘Vancouver, huh? Wonder what that’s like.’ You know, since we would be living there if they hire us. And the pilot gets picked up. Something like that.”

Jensen frowns. “Why wouldn’t it be? The story is solid, the characters are interesting, and there’s a growing market for supernaturally inclined shows. I would think we’d be sure for at least two seasons.” He tilts his head in thought, eyes flickering to Jared for just a second before darting away. “Unless you suck.”

“Excuse me?” Jared stares at him, incredulous.

“I haven’t seen anything you’ve been in. Are you good?”

Jared doesn’t really know what to say. “They wouldn’t have wanted me here if they didn’t think I could do it,” he finally points out.

Jensen looks thoughtful. “I suppose not. Let’s hope they’re right.”

Jared’s about to open his mouth and say something witty, or snarky, or just anything to not leave him on the sticky end of a rather insulting joke, but just then the door opens on the other side of the room, and they’re being called in.

Jared jumps to his feet, ready and eager. He’s halfway across the room before he realizes he’s on his own. He looks back to find Jensen still sitting on the couch, the fingers of his right hand tapping what looks like a complicated rhythm upon the shell of his knee.

“Jensen? You coming?”

Jensen doesn’t answer, his face locked in deep concentration. Then he suddenly stands up and walks straight by Jared. Right before he enters the room Jensen snaps his fingers, and as he disappears through the doorway Jared hears him say, “So we’re back again,” in a voice that sounds all bright, and cheerful and confident, nothing like the one Jared heard earlier.

Huh. As weird, pre-audition rituals go that one rates among the top ten that Jared’s witnessed. On the other hand it’s about nine places below Chad’s habit of wearing women’s underwear so…

Despite their rough introduction, the read-through goes great. Amazing really. Jensen is just as good as Jared had anticipated, even better. He gives Dean, the character he’s playing, an edge and dimension that Jared would never even have thought of, and it’s all he can do to hang on and not fall behind.

The bigwigs love the guy. Jared actually worries that Eric Kripke might have an aneurysm; that’s how excited he is. He loves Jared’s Sam as well, but it’s not quite in the same class of worshiping he’s got going on with Jensen. Jared would feel jealous if he wasn’t busy silently agreeing with him.

They smile, and laugh, and talk and then they shake hands, and it’s all ‘our agents,’ and ‘your agents,’ and blahblahblah, and before Jared knows it he’s out in the waiting room again with Jensen. The door closes behind them, and Jensen’s smile vanishes, just like that. He stares ahead for a moment, eyes blank, and then walks out and toward the elevator.

“Uh, hey,” Jared says and hurries to side up with him, waiting for the cart to arrive. “That was great. We should go for a drink. Celebrate.”

Jensen glances over, looking a little surprised, like he’s just now noticing he’s not alone. “Why?”

“Because that’s what you do when things go well?” Jared suggests awkwardly.

“You need to work on your timing. It was off.” Jensen shakes his head. “And I don’t drink with people who don’t know me.”

Jared blinks. “Right,” he says, starting to feel a little miffed. Not that he’d expected them to be instant BFFs, but at least he’s trying. “Are you always such a dick?” he asks, before he can help himself.

Jensen gets into the elevator and pushes the button for the ground floor as Jared slips through the already closing doors. “I’m not a dick,” Jensen says, staring at the numbers lighting up, one after the other. “I’m precise.”

“About what?”

“Everything.”

Before Jared can think of a good comeback, the elevator door opens and Jensen steps out, looking a little anxious until his eyes settle on a woman hurrying toward them. Red hair, nice body, high heels. Concerned look.

“Hey,” she says as she stops in front of them and takes Jensen’s hands, holding them in her own. He looks down at them then up at her, and it’s like his whole body relaxes. “Hey,” the woman repeats with a smile. “How did it go?”

“It was good,” Jensen says and smiles back. “I was good.”

“Good. Great.” She pulls him in for a hug, which he seems to reluctantly accept, his hands hovering awkwardly at her waist. “I told you.”

“You tell me a lot of things,” Jensen says, sounding a little admonishing.

She laughs, letting him go, and he steps quickly back. Just then she notices Jared standing there, watching them, and her smile changes into something more pensive.

“Oh, hi. Jared, right? Dean’s Sam.”

She offers Jared her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she says although judging by the speculative look in her eyes the verdict is still out on that.

“You too, miss…?”

“Harris. Danneel Harris.”

She doesn’t offer any explanation of who she is, and it feels rude to ask, so Jared just nods, and smiles and shakes her hand. “Jared Padalecki,” he says. “Dean’s Sam, I guess,” he adds awkwardly.

“We should get together,” Danneel suggests with a small smile

He nods. “Yeah, I was just telling Jensen we should go and celebrate–”

“Not now,” she cuts in, not unkindly. “It’s been a long day. We’ll call you. Jensen,” she says, turning his way, “you ready to go?”

There is no response, but she seems unbothered by that, just stands there, watching Jensen with a patient smile. It takes Jared a moment to realize she’s waiting for Jensen to finish some kind of set rhythm that he’s tapping against his thumb, a melody maybe. Jared can’t tell. Whatever it is, it’s over in less than a minute. The fingers go still, Jensen glances over at Danneel and reaches for her hand. She takes it and gives Jared a nod before walking with Jensen to the door.

Jared waits until they’re outside before giving in to his curiosity and following. He watches through the glass window as Jensen gets into the car, nodding his head in response to whatever Danneel is saying. As if she can feel Jared’s eyes on her she suddenly turns her head, looking straight at him. Jared quickly steps back, embarrassed at being caught, but she just smiles and gives him a small wave before walking around the car and slipping in behind the wheel.

It is beyond a doubt the strangest day in Jared’s life.

“I did good.”

“You already said that.”

Jensen nods. “I did good.”

“I know. You always do, honey.”

“I did good,” he repeats automatically, not really listening to her.

“Jensen,” she says, laughing a little. “Stop it.”

He bangs the heel of his hand into his temple. Organize, organize. Dean in his box, Ackles in his. Close the lids, and that leaves… Jensen. “Sorry. I was preoccupied,” he says. “Dean’s thoughts are very complicated.”

“It’s okay.” Danneel kisses him on the cheek. It’s nice. It’s always nice. She has very soft lips. They remind him of his mother. “So, how did you like Jared?”

“He’s very tall.” Jensen frowns. “Sam is Dean’s little brother.”

“Well, they’re grown up, right? Brothers aren’t always the same height; you know that. You’re taller than Josh.”

“Tall. Big hands. Strong. Very fit.” Jensen shakes his head. “He looks stronger than me.”

She rolls her eyes. “Jensen, no one will care, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worrying. I’m adapting.” He taps his temple with his index finger, a fast, even pace. “Not fair. Not fair. Pisses me off. Can still kick his ass. He’s gone soft. Not as quick. College boy.” He snorts. “Sammy. He hates that. It’s just Sam now. Sam. Pfft. Whatever. Sammy. Always gonna be my Sammy.”

“That might work.” She takes his hand and pulls it away from his head. “You’re gonna give yourself a headache,” she says with a small lift of her eyebrow. He frowns. His temple feels a little sore. He needs to clip his fingernails. “You still haven’t answered me. How did you like Jared?”

He thinks. Jared. Jared Padalecki. Jared Padalecki made him nervous. Not the way Eric Kripke makes him nervous. Different nervous. Like… When Jared sat down next to him on the couch Jensen really wanted to reach out and touch him. And he doesn’t normally like to touch people he doesn’t know. Jared had just looked so… solid. Like a wall made of bones and muscles. His hand had been warm, strong. Jensen had wanted to slide his fingers in between the buttons of Jared’s shirt to feel if his chest was as warm. It had messed up his thoughts for a while, almost made him forget his script. He’d had to rewind and start over before he could go in and play his part.

“Jensen?”

“He didn’t suck,” Jensen says because he’s not sure how to explain the other thing.

“Okay.” Danneel laughs. “What else?”

He thinks of Jared towering over him. Arm stretched out, palm extended. Long, long fingers. “He’s big.”

“You already said that,” she reminds him.

“Different big. Big hands, big feet. Big dick. I think. Didn’t see it obviously. But statistics show…”

“Jensen!”

He looks up at the sharp tone of her voice. “What?”

“You can’t…” She sighs and shakes her head. She looks a little irritated. Maybe she’s menstruating. “Listen to me. If the pilot gets picked up, you’re going to be working with him very closely for the next eight, nine months. At least. If you sleep with him, it will be awkward.” He frowns at her, and she patiently clarifies, “For him. It will be awkward for him.”

Jensen thinks about that for a moment. He doesn’t really get why it should be awkward, but if Danneel says so, she’s probably right. She knows these things.

“Besides,” she adds, “I read up on him. He has a girlfriend. Which probably means he’s not gay. And even if he’s bi,” she continues, when Jensen opens his mouth to argue, “he’s still taken. You don’t mess around with apparently straight taken guys, okay?”

Jensen sighs. Damn. “Your rules are annoying.”

She smiles. “You’ll survive,” she says. “Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. If you’re gonna take a shower, you better hurry.”

“Never get any big dicks,” he mutters and heads for the bathroom.

It’s true. As much as guys like to brag about their equipment, research shows that the average length of a human penis is only around six inches when fully erect. And while length isn’t everything – girth does play a large part in providing sexual fulfillment – Jensen will readily admit he is what Danneel likes to call a size queen. Danneel says it’s a Texas thing, they always think bigger is better. He tried explaining to her the dynamics of anal sex, what makes the size of the penis important when considering the placement of the prostate, not to mention the pleasure of being stretched beyond the limit of the regular bowel movement, but for some reason she just hadn’t been interested.

As the hot water beats down on his neck and shoulders he pictures Jared’s hands, his long fingers. The length of a man’s cock will often coincide with the length of his index finger, measuring from the root of his thumb. Not an accurate science, and it does have its exceptions to the rule, but if the precarious way Jared wore his rather tight jeans is anything to go by, Jensen would say in his case the margin of error might be a little on the positive side.

Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Jared has a girlfriend. Jensen frowns. The first person Jared called after his audition, that time Jensen overheard him in the hall, was his mother. Not his girlfriend. And today, while they were waiting to be called in, he’d kept staring at Jensen. Men don’t usually stare at other men unless they’re either interested or the one they’re staring at is hideous enough to warrant gaping.

Jensen is not hideous. Danneel says he’s pretty. His mother calls him handsome. Jensen prefers the word handsome. He used to be called pretty all the time when he was younger. By girls, yes, but men, too. Pretty. Pretty boy. Dad didn’t like that. That’s why Jensen only has female assistants now.

Girlfriends. He’s supposed to call them girlfriends, he reminds himself. Danneel has lasted the longest. He likes her the best, too. She feels like a friend. She’s good at reading him, and she always seems to know how to handle it when he goes off track. She’s pretty, too. Good body. They make a beautiful couple on pictures. His manager likes that. Dad likes it as well. Mom says she doesn’t care as long as he’s happy. Jensen’s not sure what being happy has to do with it.

There’s a knock on the door. “Jensen, dinner’s ready.”

“I’m coming!” he shouts.

“Too much information!” she yells back and laughs. It takes him a moment to get the joke, and by the time he does it’s more a premature assumption than actual misinterpretation, so he doesn’t bother correcting her.

“Jared, thank you for coming. Please, have a seat.”

He sits down, a little wary. From what his agent told him on the phone it’s a done deal. All that’s really left is to sign the contract. That’s what he’s here to do, with Jensen he presumed, until they called and asked if he could please come in an hour early, “Just to go over some things.”

“You have probably guessed why we asked you to come in separately,” the woman says with a fake smile. He’s forgotten her name. Ostrich?

Jared shakes his head. “Uhm, no? No, can’t say I have.”

“You met Jensen Ackles at the final audition so this shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.” She lays a couple of printed pages in front of him. “These are additional clauses to your contract. If you would please read them over.”

He blinks, confused, and picks up the pages. The more he reads, the wider his eyes get. So this is what Tom was talking about. “I’m sorry, but what is this?”

“It’s a confidentiality clause. I’m sure you are familiar with the idea.”

“Yes, but–”

“Is there a problem?”

He looks at her then back at the words in front of him. His lips thin. “You know, you didn’t have to do this. I would have respected it anyway.”

She smiles tightly. “I appreciate that. This way, however, we can be sure.”

He just shakes his head, annoyed, and signs on the dotted line. While he’s at it he signs the main contract too, and then gets the hell out of there. He’d been looking forward to meeting Jensen again, but right now he’d rather not.

No one has ever accused him of not being trustworthy before. It kinda stings.

Jensen steps into the office and looks around. He frowns. Something is not right. “Where’s Jared?”

Ostroff smiles at him indulgently. “Mr. Padalecki had to leave early. Now, if you’d please take a seat we can–”

“Jared was supposed to be here,” he cuts her off. “We were going to ask him to have coffee. Danny, we were going to get coffee!”

“Jensen, chill. It’s okay. I’ll call him. Set something up. You have his number, right?”

“No, I don’t…” He stops when he realizes she’s not talking to him. “We were gonna have coffee,” he mutters irritated as Ostroff finds Jared’s phone number for them. “Sign the contract, have coffee, talk to Jared. That’s what you said. That’s the plan. You don’t mess with the plan.”

“You want to read over the contract?” Danneel asks him, ignoring his grumbling.

He scowls and snatches it out of her hands. Of course he wants to read the contract. Only a moron signs an unread contract. He’s many things, but a moron is not one of them.

It’s quick reading; the contract looks similar to other contracts he’s signed in this business. Although…

He looks up. “Six years?”

“Just a formality,” Ostroff dismisses. “Eric Kripke has a five year story line, but the network doesn’t expect the series to go much further than two seasons, if that.”

He huffs. “Well, the network is stupid. Supernatural has the potential of becoming a cult show the likes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and X-Files. It will most likely accumulate a small but loyal fanbase since your viewer numbers will never be high unless you put a considerate amount of money in promotion. Which, considering your reputation with this genre, is unlikely.” He ignores the irritated look on her face. “Five years would be a logical run for this show but since it will only continue as long as the network deems it profitable let’s hope its fans are enthusiastic and creative in promoting it for you. Otherwise it’s just as likely to be cancelled before it even has a chance of reaching its potentials.”

He grabs the pen and scribbles his name on all the x-marked places then stands up and walks to the door. “Danny. Coffee.”

“Go on, I’ll be out in a minute.”

He nods and turns around, not bothering to say goodbye. “I take it Jared signed his contract already,” he hears Danneel say as he steps out into the hall. There’s no answer that he can hear, but Ostroff must have nodded because Danneel adds, “All of it?”

“Yes,” Ostroff retorts. “He was…”

The door falls shut, cutting off her voice, and Jensen is left standing alone in the hall. His nose twitches in annoyance. He doesn’t like being left out of things that concern him. He’s not a child, for fuck’s sake.

On the other hand he doesn’t want to go back in either. Dawn Ostroff uses way too much perfume. It was hard to breathe in there.

He looks at his watch then back at the door. Hovers indecisively. Checks his watch again. A girl comes hurrying down the hall and he steps closer to the door, feeling in the way even if the hallway is wide enough to fit both of them and then some. She slows down as she passes, lips curling into a smile, and he smiles automatically back, ducking his head to subtly avoid her heated stare. He checks his watch as soon as she’s gone. Reaches out for the doorknob but pulls back. Dammit.

Danneel comes out a few minutes later, small lines of worry around her eyes. “There you are,” she says and takes his hand. “Shall we?”

“You said a minute,” he tells her, irritated. “Not five. A minute. A minute is sixty seconds. Five minutes are three hundred seconds. You were five minutes. A few seconds give or take,” he admits.

“Ostroff is a bitch,” she says, offering no explanation or apology. “I have Jared’s phone number. Want me to call him?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions. Yes,” he sighs when she just looks at him, unruffled. “The plan is to have coffee and talk to Jared. That’s the plan. We have to follow the plan.”

“All right. Hang on.” She pulls her phone out of her purse and scrolls through her contacts. “You want to talk to him or should I?”

“I don’t know him yet,” he points out, and she sighs.

“God, you’re such a douche.”

Jensen frowns. He likes Danneel but sometimes she just doesn’t make any sense.

When Danneel said they should get together sometime, Jared hadn’t really thought she meant like this. He’s sitting on a bench in the park, nursing a grande latte and watching Danneel try and talk Jensen out of throwing his coffee away, because apparently the lid has a small crack in its side.

“Just take it off, drink from the rim,” she says exasperated.

Jensen looks like she just suggested he’d strip naked and run through the park.

“Take mine,” Jared offers bemused. “I don’t mind.”

“Please don’t indulge his childish whims,” Danneel groans, but she accepts the lid anyway, exchanging it with Jensen’s cracked one. “Happy now?”

Jensen harrumphs, but the crease between his eyebrows eases a little.

“Can we stop worrying about coffee and get to the point?” She gives Jared a strained smile. “This is Jensen. He is absolutely insufferable.”

“Okay.” Jared can’t help smiling when Jensen flips Danneel the finger. “I probably would have figured that out on my own.”

“I’m not insufferable,” Jensen says prickly. “I’m precise.”

“You’re an anal obsessive control freak, Jensen, that’s what you are.”

She’s smiling though so Jared doesn’t think she means it in a particularly bad way. Jensen doesn’t seem insulted either, but it’s a little hard to tell since he’s still busy frowning at his coffee.

“I want to start by apologizing for the confidentiality clause,” Danneel says although she doesn’t look sorry in the least. “It’s nothing personal, just something we have a rule of doing.”

“So they told me,” Jared says, unable to keep the coolness out of his voice. “For the record, I don’t make a habit of running to the tabloids with stuff. That’s not the kind of guy I am.”

“Good to know,” she says, the smile softening a little. “But honestly? Not everyone is that nice. This is Hollywood, Jared. One man’s Asperger’s is another man’s money in the pocket. You can’t be too careful.”

Jared looks at her startled. Oh, so that’s what... Huh. He probably should have realized it was something like that, but for some reason it hadn’t even occurred to him. He just thought…

Actually he’s not sure what he thought. That Jensen was a little unusual. A bit of a jackass actually but he’d figured it was some kind of defense mechanism because the guy seemed painfully shy, having yet to look Jared even once in the eye. And all right, admittedly he’d noticed Jensen had some odd quirks but Jared’s known worse. Hell, Chad alone has enough bad habits to decivilize a small village.

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “I guess. Just… I wouldn’t. Just so you know.”

“Great!” she says cheerfully. “Good to have that settled. So, you looking forward to living in Vancouver?”

He shrugs. “Looking forward to the work, not so much to living there, no. It’s as far from Texas as you can get, you know?”

“No, it’s not. The furthest point away from Texas would be–”

Danneel lays a hand on Jensen’s arm, cutting him off. “He doesn’t mean literally,” she says.

Jensen sighs and keeps on sipping his coffee.

Jared stares at him, still trying to process the whole Asperger’s thing. Not that he actually knows a lot about it, but his mama had a kid like that in her class once that she talked about sometimes. It’s hard trying to fit what she told him about that child with the guy sitting next to him. Not that he expects them to be the same. There are levels, he knows, and of course people are just different no matter what they might or might not have. Still…

“Jensen is a bit of a geography geek,” Danneel explains with a smile, bringing Jared out of his thoughts. “He’ll talk your ear off if you’re not too careful.”

“I’m not a geek,” Jensen protests. “This is our planet. Our home. We should know our own fucking home. Most people could blindly find their way to the nearest Starbucks but they can’t locate their own state on the map.”

“And still, ironically enough, wherever we go you make it your first priority to locate all the nearest coffee places,” she snorts before turning to Jared. “Sorry, go on.”

Jared pulls his eyes reluctantly away from Jensen and back to her. “I just meant it’s different. It’s not even the States, it’s a whole different country. So it feels very far away. I’m gonna miss my folks. And my friends.”

“Your girlfriend?” Danneel asks with a sympathetic look.

Jared offers her a small smile. “Yeah. Her too.”

“He’s lying,” Jensen says, sounding smug. “He doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

Jared stares at him. “Dude! What are you…? I do have a girlfriend. Her name is Sandy. She’s–”

“Not your girlfriend,” Jensen insists. “Girl, yes. Friend, probably. Girlfriend, no.”

“Jensen, stop it!” Danneel hisses.

“Look, man,” Jared says, starting to get annoyed. “You can’t be going around saying stuff like that.”

“They tell you that?” Jensen nods, lips pursed. “Hollywood hates fags.”

Jared flinches. “Shit.” He stands up, shaking his head. “I’m sorry but I’m not gonna sit here and listen to this. It’s–”

“Danneel is my girlfriend,” Jensen says bluntly. “Dad hired her.”

“Jesus!” Danneel groans, cheeks going almost as red as her hair. “Jensen, will you shut up!”

Jared stands still, looking at her flushed face and Jensen’s seeming disinterest with the whole thing. He sits back down.

“Don’t tell Sandy, she might start asking for wages,” he says, trying to keep his voice light, although his stomach is churning.

Danneel stares at him. Then she breathes out and offers him a small smile. “I’m sorry,” she says. “He can be a real ass.”

“I’m not an ass, I’m direct,” Jensen says, impatient. “Also I’m practical. Better to put things straight now than spend the next few years lying to each other. Especially since he sucks at it.”

Jared licks his lips nervously. Jensen is right. Well, about the lying to each other bit, not about Jared sucking at it. He’s been lying to people for years and this is the first time he’s been called on it so he can’t be that bad.

“So you two…” He hesitates. “You’re not really together?”

Danneel shrugs. “We live together, we travel together, I put up with his moody ass, and he eats my horrible cooking. But no sleeping together, no.”

“We do sometimes sleep together,” Jensen objects, giving her a small frown. “You snore.”

“We’re talking about sex, Jensen. And I don’t snore.”

“I have evidence,” Jensen points out. “Of you snoring, not us having sex. On my phone. I recorded you.”

“And I deleted it.” She gives Jared a small smile. “Not that there was anything to delete, of course.”

“Of course,” Jared agrees politely.

He’s still not sure what to make of the pair. There’s clearly affection there; on her part at least, he has no idea how Jensen feels. But Jensen said his dad hired her, so it doesn’t seem like she’s just a friend doing a favor. Not like Sandy.

It’s not like that had been a planned thing either. They’d become good friends while working on a movie together, and people just assumed. So they’d let them. It kinda spun out of control from there. Suddenly he was calling her his girlfriend in interviews, and his mother was asking him to please bring the young lady home for Thanksgiving. There really was no going back after that. Thankfully Sandy doesn’t mind, and he has to admit it does make things easier. Like not having to constantly dodge the popular teen magazine question of what kind of girls he likes.

However, nowhere in Jared’s online research did he see anything about Jensen having a girlfriend. So if it’s one of those full-out Hollywood bearding contracts it’s not exactly high profile. Which rather defeats the purpose of setting up a fake relationship if it’s not to flaunt it. But considering Jensen’s situation maybe it’s a whole different kind of contract they’ve got going.

“He’s right though,” Danneel says, bringing Jared out of his thoughts. “If the pilot does get picked up, you two are going to be spending a lot of time together.” She pauses, looking over at Jensen with a hint of worry. “He’s not used to staying in character for such long hours. We’ll have to figure out how to make it work.”

Jared nods, not really understanding what she’s getting at.

“Jensen has refused to let me hang around on set. Apparently I’m a distraction.” She sighs dramatically. “Personally I think he’s just too fascinated by my fabulous rack to concentrate.”

“You’re barely a C,” Jensen dismisses. “And even if they were bigger it’s not them that distract me. It’s you.” He glances over at Jared before looking away again. “She belongs to the wrong script.”

Jared stares at him, uncomprehending.

“The wrong script,” Jensen repeats impatiently. “The girlfriend script. Dean doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

Oh. Things are slowly starting to click in place.

“Right,” Jared says. “Character clash.”

Danneel nods, smiling a little. “Anyway, since I’m not wanted, I’m grabbing the opportunity to go on a short leave. Trying out for a part in a drama actually.” At Jared’s surprised look she adds, “I do have my own ambitions beyond keeping Mister Grumpypants here happy, you know.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Jensen says, sounding grumpy as hell. “And you already have a job. You’re my girlfriend.”

“Jensen, we already went through this five times. I haven’t had a day off since Christmas. You owe me, and I’m going. That’s it. Stop sulking.” She gives Jared a strained smile. “Anyway, it would help to have someone else around, who knows the deal.”

Jared nods, feeling completely at loss. “To do what?”

She shrugs. “You know, stuff.” She takes Jensen’s hand from where his fingers had been tapping the bench furiously. His fingertips are a little red from the constant pounding. His knee starts jumping instead but she lets it be. “Like that.”

“Oh.” Jared blinks, not sure what to say. “I don’t know...”

“We’re not talking babysitting, Jared,” she says with a small smile. “Don’t let his bratty behavior fool you. Behind that pretty boy face, Jensen is actually a real grown man. Fully capable of taking care of himself.”

“Tell that to my parents,” Jensen mutters. “They think I’m incompetent. Like a fucking toddler.”

“They’re a little overprotective,” Danneel agrees. “We’re working on that. Until then, it’s a good thing you like having me around. Most of the time.”

Jensen smiles a little at that. “I only like you for your cooking,” he says, the smile widening into a grin when she sticks her tongue out at him.

“Look out, or I might just start cooking what I like, instead of your boring menu,” she warns him. “Besides, we both know you love me, because I’m awesome.”

Jensen huffs but he doesn’t deny it.

“So what exactly is it you need me for?” Jared asks bewildered. “Because I should tell you right away, I can’t cook for shit.”

Danneel laughs. “Don’t worry, we’re not looking for a housekeeper. Like I said, it just helps to have someone around who knows what’s what. I mean, Kripke knows. The directors will be told. Some of the others will probably figure it out soon enough. But you’re the one who’ll be there right beside him the whole time.”

“Yeah,” Jared says hesitantly. “Okay.”

“You seem like a good guy, Jared,” she says gently. “And Jensen here isn’t that bad once you get to know him.” She laughs when Jensen again flips her the finger. It seems to be his standard response to her insults.

“Seriously, I’m sure you’ll hit it off. If all else fails you can always talk about Texas. Not now,” she adds quickly when Jensen takes a deep breath. “Wait until Jared actually likes you well enough not to kill you just to shut you up.”

Jensen shrugs. “If he wants to shut me up there are better ways.” He glances down at Jared’s crotch. “That looks big enough.”

Danneel hides her face in her hands. “Oh God,” she groans in mortification. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

Jared was wrong. This is the strangest day of his life.

The network sets them up in a hotel for the pilot. Separate rooms on separate floors but somehow Jared ends up spending most of his free time at Jensen’s anyway.

At first it’s because, despite what Danneel said, Jared feels oddly responsible and keeps checking up on the guy. Even if it quickly becomes clear that Jensen has everything under control, way better than Jared himself.

Jared wears the same clothes three days in a row, because without his dogs to wake him up in the morning he’s lucky to get up early enough to shower and brush his teeth before the driver picks them up. He does change his underwear, but only because he likes to sleep in them, and for some reason he keeps waking up with the kind of sticky morning boner he hasn’t had to deal with since high school. It’s embarrassing.

Jensen has lists for pretty much everything he does, and he ticks the items off as each day goes by. He gets up at the exact same time every morning and follows the exact same routine. Shower, shave, brush his teeth. Dress in the clothes marked for that day. Coffee, breakfast. Puts on his shoes, his jacket. Goes up one floor and knocks on Jared’s door.

Where Jared will answer, sleep still in his eyes, gnawing on a piece of toast while he looks frantically for his other sock. He’s pretty sure if Jensen’s parents ever met him they’d be on the phone to his mother telling her to hire him a ‘girlfriend’.

As they start filming and working together, Jared realizes Danneel’s prediction was right. He and Jensen do hit it off. Sure Jensen is quirky and sometimes (okay, a lot of times) uncomfortably direct to the point of being rude. But once Jared figures out Jensen isn’t actually mean as much as he’s just a little clueless (and mostly unconcerned) about the rules of social interactions, it stops bothering him.

Honestly, it’s not so different from tolerating Chad. Except that Chad is rude on purpose. Jensen is just… honest. Mostly because for the few hours a day he can just be himself, Jensen seems to have made a personal decision not to feel bothered by social rules he doesn’t really understand and couldn’t care less about.

“I’m off your damn NT clock,” he’d snapped at Danneel the night before she left for North Carolina as she was trying to engage him in hers and Jared’s small talk.

“Neurotypical,” Danneel had explained to a confused Jared. “Meaning us lesser beings.”

“Not lesser,” Jensen had muttered, not very convincingly. “Just… difficult.”

After a while Jensen’s straightforwardness starts feeling oddly refreshing. There is no innuendo, no hidden agenda or mixed messages. There’s just Jensen, saying exactly what he’s thinking.

“You need to eat more fiber. Your flatulence is not as amusing as you seem to think it is.”

“That’s because you don’t have a sense of humor,” Jared points out. “C’mon, fart jokes are always funny.”

Jensen shakes his head. “I do have a sense of humor. And that was not a joke. Jokes don’t smell.”

“I’m giving you the full 4D experience.” Jared sighs when Jensen just purses his lips. “Okay, okay. More fiber.” He pops another onion ring into his mouth, ignoring Jensen’s disapproving scowl. “So what have you been up to? Apart from this, I mean.”

“I have a horror movie coming out in a couple of months,” Jensen tells him. “Straight to DVD. The script sucked.”

Jared can’t help laughing. “So why did you do it?”

Jensen shrugs. “Dad set it up. They got him a role in it playing my character’s father. Which I guess is ironic.” He frowns. “Right?”

Jared nods. “Yeah, that can fit. I did a horror movie, too,” he adds. “With Paris Hilton of all people.”

“Does your character get to kill her character?” Jensen asks, looking intrigued.

Jared shakes his head. “No. I’m actually the first one to die.”

“Your character is the first to die,” Jensen rectifies. For some reason he’s always very particular about making that distinction. Jared imagines it’s because he has to keep so many characters of his own straight and separated from himself in his head. “But her character does die?”

“Oh yeah,” Jared says gleefully. “She gets her head impaled.”

Jensen nods and goes back to eating his sandwich. Well, eating parts of his sandwich. He has this weird ritual where he takes the whole thing apart before eating one layer after another. At the moment he’s crunching lettuce between his teeth.

“You should do comedy,” he says once he’s swallowed.

Jared grins. “Yeah? You think I’m funny?”

Jensen shakes his head. “No. But you seem to think you are, and most people apparently agree with you.”

Jared blinks at him. “Thanks. I think.”

“You’re welcome,” Jensen says and starts cutting up his tomato slices.

“How did you get into acting anyway?” Jared asks Jensen one night when they’re in his apartment, sharing a bowl of popcorn over Dark Angel reruns that Jared for some reason insisted they’d watch.

Jensen shrugs. There’s butter on his fingers and small crystals of salt cling to his skin. He wants to go wash his hands, but he’s finding it hard to get up and leave. Must be because he’s so comfortable. Jared is warm by his side; it’s making him sleepy. “My parents thought it would help with my social skills. They were right, it did.”

Jared looks at him. “Really? You mean you used to be worse?”

Jensen nods. “Yes, a lot worse. I was very awkward. I didn’t really have any friends. They didn’t understand me, and I didn’t know how to talk to them. I’m a lot better now.”

“Jensen, I didn’t mean…” Jared laughs a little. His cheeks are red. “It was a joke. I think you’re fine.”

“Oh.” It seems an odd joke to make, considering it’s true. “I watched a lot of TV,” Jensen continues. “Tried to imitate what I saw. It didn’t really help. Apparently there’s a lot of bad acting on daytime TV.”

“Says the guy who was on Days Of Our Lives,” Jared says with a smile.

Jensen looks at him, not sure what he’s getting at. “Yes?”

Jared shakes his head. “Nothing. Another bad joke. I’m… I make a lot of those. Sorry.”

“I’ve noticed.” Jensen looks over at the screen. Max is bitching Alec out. Again. He always gets edgy watching that. Jessica Alba never really got him. She wasn’t happy when they re-hired him for the second season. Apparently he was ‘too much work’.

“Dad thought I should learn proper acting. I had training at home and then when I started high school I joined the drama club. I don’t think anyone expected me to be good at it but I was.”

Jared glances at him, smiling that small smile that Jensen is never sure how to interpret. “No kidding. Bet you blew them away.”

Jensen frowns. “Is that another joke?”

“No joke,” Jared says, face turning serious. “In case you didn’t know, I think you’re an amazing actor. I mean,” he waves his hand at the TV, “that there? Look at you!”

Jensen watches himself be the emotional trainwreck that is Alec McDowell. “You like that?”

“You should have gotten a frigging Emmy for that episode, man.”

“The Academy doesn’t recognize genre shows,” Jensen tells him. “In its thirty-seven years of history, Star Trek only got six nominations that didn’t belong to the technical categories, even if experts agree its writing and acting was at times exceptional. And Buffy the Vampire Slayer only received one writing nomination in its seven year run, despite the consensual opinion that Joss Whedon is a genius. The Academy has a preference for mindless emotional drama over actual, thought provoking material. It will never see sci-fi as anything other than technological jerk-off material for immature nerds.”

He stops himself abruptly, embarrassed. “Sorry. I get carried away. You need to tell me to shut up.”

Jared shrugs. “I find it interesting. Go on.”

“I better not. I could talk about this for…” He calculates in his head, “… at least forty-five minutes. Once I really get going I’ll find it a lot harder to stop, and it’s getting late. We should go to bed soon.”

Jared throws him a smile. “Okay. But I really don’t mind. You know a lot of stuff,” he adds as an afterthought.

“I used to have a lot of time to read before I met you.”

Jensen gives Jared a small smile to make sure he knows Jensen doesn’t mind Jared intruding on his reading time. Jared smiles back, so Jensen thinks he probably gets it, even if he does look a little sad.

“Okay, guys. One more time from the top!”

That will be the tenth take. God save them from perfectionist directors. Jared glances over at Jensen. He’s sweating, his eyes are blinking rapidly, and the corner of his mouth is twitching just a little. “Jensen? You good?”

Jensen gives a curt nod, fingers drumming the wheel of the Impala.

“Aaaaaand action!”

“Okay, here’s where Dad went,” Jared says, channeling Sam’s serious research mood. “It’s called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.”

Jensen makes a face. “Sounds charming,” he says. His voice is a little more strained than called for. “How far?”

“About six hundred miles.”

“If we sha- If we… Fuck!”

“Cut!”

Jensen hits the wheel with his hand, hard. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Can’t get it right. Can’t get it right. Stupid goddamn son-of-a-BITCH!”

“Jensen, calm down. It’s okay,” Jared says, laying a hand on Jensen’s arm, only to snatch it back when Jensen jerks violently.

“Not Jensen!” Jensen yells. “Stop calling me that! I’m Dean. I’m trying to be Dean, and you’re fucking it up! You’re… I’m supposed to be Dean!” He sucks in his breath. “I forgot my line. I forgot my line, because you keep distracting me!”

Jared reaches over and turns the mic off. “You forgot your line, because we’ve been at it for five hours without a break,” he says calmly. “It’s late, we’re both exhausted. Let me talk to Eric. We can finish this tomorrow.”

“No. No! We’re supposed to do it tonight. That’s the schedule. We have to follow the schedule!” Jensen slams the heels of his hands into his forehead.

“Okay, okay. How about we take a twenty minute break?” Jared suggests. “Just twenty minutes.”

Jensen blinks, his breath heaving. “Twenty minutes. Okay. Okay.”

“Let me talk to…” But Jensen is already out of the car, walking briskly away. “Eric,” Jared finishes lamely and sighs before getting out of the car as well.

Eric Kripke is staring at where Jensen disappeared to, a frantic look in his eyes. “What the hell is he doing? He can’t just… Someone get him back here!”

“Eric!” Jared snaps. “Leave him. He’s taking twenty.”

“What? We’re losing daylight! We can’t just–”

“It’s either twenty minutes now or I’m guessing all day tomorrow,” Jared points out drily.

Eric winces. “Shit. Okay, okay. Please tell me he’s not having a meltdown.”

Jared sighs and rubs a hand over his face. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Shannon shaking her finger at him for messing with the makeup.

“No,” he says. “He’s just tired. And stressed. And hungry.” He cracks a small smile at Eric’s raised eyebrow. “Okay, that’s me, but the rest still fits. Look, you know he can do this. He’s been doing it. He’s not the one fucking up the takes. You guys need to make up your mind beforehand on what angle you want, or this ain’t gonna work.”

“You a director now?” Eric snarks, clearly annoyed.

“No, but you know I’m right,” Jared says patiently. “Jensen is as professional as it gets, but this, it’s too disorganized. He can’t work like this. It’s too stressful.”

“Jesus.” Eric groans. “I knew it was gonna be different, but… I don’t even know what the hell you want me to do.”

“How about you make a list of the different angles you want to try, so he knows what to expect?” Jared suggests. “And, you know, maybe try and cut them down, so there aren’t as many. All it takes is some planning.”

“Yes, because I don’t do enough of that already,” Eric grumbles. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do. Planning.” He sighs. “He better be worth it.”

Jared gives him a tight smile, even if he feels a sudden urge to punch the guy. “You know he is. Jensen is Dean. He’s gonna be the best goddamn Dean you could have wished for. If you let him.”

He leaves Eric to mull it over and goes to Jensen’s trailer. The lights are off inside, and all is quiet. Jared sits down on the steps and waits, one eye on Sam’s watch. Twenty minutes. He hopes it’s enough.

Exactly twenty minutes later Jensen – No, Dean, Jared reminds himself – steps out of the trailer. He offers Jared a curt nod and together they walk back to the Impala. Jensen’s hands are shaking a little and there’s a somewhat manic look in his eyes but other than that he seems fine.

They finish the scene in one take.

“Jared.”

Jared snores on. Jensen purses his lips. He reaches out but pulls back at the last moment. Just because Jared gave him a key to his apartment doesn’t mean he’ll be happy about being woken up in the middle of the night.

“He’s being nice, because he’s a nice guy, Jensen,” Danneel had told him on the phone just two days ago. “Don’t abuse it. He doesn’t get paid to put up with you 24/7 like I do.”

“So I pay him,” Jensen had argued. “I have money.”

She’d sighed. “He wants you two to be friends, Jensen. Offering him money would be insulting.”

He doesn’t get that. If paying Danneel means she’s there for him whenever he needs her, (except now, because of that stupid role on some stupid show in North-fucking-Carolina) then why can’t he pay Jared to do the same? It’s not like he’s going to ask Jared to go out in the middle of the night to buy him All-Bran, like he made Danneel do the time they ran out, and he hadn’t been able to sleep knowing it wouldn’t be there for him in the morning. He just wants to spend the night in Jared’s bed. Friends do that, right?

Another lightning bolt flashes across the sky, and Jensen quickly covers his ears and squeezes his eyes shut before the thunder rolls in its wake. The noise still makes his breath stutter. It’s just so fucking loud!

“Jared.” He pokes Jared in the shoulder but he just mumbles in his sleep. “Jared. Jared, wake up. JARED!”

Jared groans and opens one eye. “Wha– Jensen?”

“I need to sleep in your bed.”

“What?” Jared asks bewildered. “Why?”

“Thunderstorm,” Jensen tells him, shivering a little. “Really, really loud.”

Jared yawns. “Oh, okay.” He shuffles over to the side, and Jensen crawls under the covers.

“I can pay you,” he says once he’s settled down on his back, eyes on the ceiling. “For the night service.”

For some reason Jared laughs at that. It sounds a little choked. “Excuse me?”

“Danneel says I can’t bother you whenever I feel like it, because we’re just friends, and you don’t get paid. But I… I needed someone, and she’s not here. I can pay. I have money.”

Another lightning flashes, and Jensen quickly covers his ears again, breath gasping when the thunder breaks the silence, loud enough to rattle the windows.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here.” Jared shuffles closer. “Look at me. I’m right here.”

Jensen turns his head, settling his gaze on Jared’s mole, the one that’s just to the side of his nose. “I know you’re here,” he says, his voice a little hoarse, because his throat feels really dry. “That’s why I came.”

Jared smiles. “You can bother me any time you want, okay? And you don’t have to pay me a dime.”

“But we’re just friends,” Jensen says confused.

“Exactly. We’re friends. That’s what friends do; look out for each other. There’s no clocking in and out of that, okay? It’s not a nine to five job.”

Jensen blinks. His breath hitches a little. “Oh.” He licks his lips and then slowly raises his gaze, until he’s staring straight into Jared’s eyes. “Thank you,” he says, Jared’s face blurring slightly as it goes out of focus.

Jared smiles. “You’re welcome,” he says. “Now sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

Jensen obediently closes his eyes. The next time a thunder cracks across the sky Jared’s big hands are already there, covering Jensen’s ears. It doesn’t even make him flinch.

“So, it’s been fun,” Jared says, keeping his voice light.

Jensen nods, but he doesn’t seem to be listening. Although to be fair, most times it’s hard to tell. His eyes are fixed on the bulletin board, waiting for his flight to be called.

“If all goes well we should be back in July at the latest. You think you can survive being without my delightful company for that long?” Jared jokes.

“Yes,” Jensen says, not taking his eyes off the board. “My survival is based on many things, but your presence is not one of them.”

Jared’s smile falters a little. “I just meant… Never mind. I’m gonna miss you, that’s all.”

Jensen blinks. “Oh. I’ll miss you, too. You’re a good friend, Jared.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I hope the show gets picked up. I like working with you. We fit. I never fit with anyone, but I fit with you. You get me.”

Jared grins and takes a sip of his coffee. Just in time to choke on it when Jensen adds, “Next time I sleep in your bed we should have sex. Your cock really is big. I could feel it when you humped me in your sleep.”

Before Jared has time to mentally form an answer that consists of more than awkward garbling, Jensen’s flight is announced ready for boarding and just like that he’s walking away without a backward glance. Jared stares after him, his face flushed and his jeans noticeably tighter.

Well… shit.

The phone rings late one Monday night in early May. Jared is half asleep in front of the TV, a bowl of popcorn on the floor, and a bottle of beer wedged between his thighs. He flips the phone open, eyes still on the screen, and sighs a bored, “Hello?”

“They want me to go to the Upfronts!” a voice yells into his ear. “I can’t go to the Upfronts! There are people there!”

Jared sits up, instantly awake. “Jensen?”

Jensen gasps into the phone. “People, and cameras, and interviewers and… people! People who want to talk to me! I can’t, I told them I can’t. I told them!”

Short, snappy sentences. Loud voice. Erratic breathing. Jared runs his fingers through his hair, thinking fast. After three weeks apart he’s getting a bit rusty, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out Jensen is heading towards a major meltdown.

“Okay, okay, calm down. Are you alone?”

“Of course I’m alone! Danneel is still in fucking, fucking North-Carolina!” Jensen spits out. “I’m gonna fire her. She’s never here!”

“Dude, she’s on extended leave,” Jared reminds him. “She got the part, remember?”

“She’s supposed to be my fucking girlfriend! I pay her money!”

“Jensen. Breathe.”

Jensen breathes loudly into his ear. In-out, in-out. Finally: “I can’t do people, Jared. I can’t. They want me to wear a suit!”

Jared can’t help smiling. “Well, you would look great in a suit.”

“That’s not the point! I can’t breathe in suits. There’s a tie. A tie around my neck! I could choke!” He gasps again, like he’s imagining the tie strangling him.

“Okay, okay, no tie,” Jared says quickly. “You can just wear a shirt and a jacket. No tie.”

“No tie, no tie, no tie,” Jensen repeats under his breath, like he’s mulling it over. “That’s okay? I can do that?”

“It’s fine, I promise.” Jared frowns. “Hey, I thought you never went to these things? Don’t you have some kind of clause in your contract?”

He can practically hear Jensen flailing, gearing up for another rant. “Twice a year! I have to do something twice a year. Usually that means photo shoots. I don’t mind photo shoots. I’m very photogenic, and they don’t expect me to talk. This? I have to talk! Jared, I don’t want to talk!” His voice is getting shrill again, his breathing quickening.

“Well, you know what?” Jared says calmly. “I’ll be there right by your side the whole time. Keeping you in character.”

“Right by my side. Right by my side,” Jensen breathes into the phone.

“Yes. And if you don’t feel like talking, I’ll talk for the both of us. All you have to do is be there, maybe smile a little, and I’ll handle the rest. Okay?”

He can hear Jensen’s breathing gradually slowing down. “Okay. Okay.”

“Yeah? You alright now?”

“Yes. No. Better. I’m better. I’m never alright, don’t you know that?” He laughs, loud and hysterical, then just as quickly cuts himself off. “Sorry. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Jared rubs a hand over his face, yawning. “So, how have you been?”

“Bored. I finished reading all my books two days ago. Danneel’s not here. She’s never here!”

“Because you gave her leave,” Jared tells him again, smiling when Jensen just grumbles. “Hey, you’re in LA, right? Do you wanna come over?”

Jensen doesn’t answer.

“Jensen? Did you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“So, do you wanna come over?” Silence again. “Or I can come to your place,” he suggests casually.

There’s a rush of air, like Jensen had been holding his breath. “Okay. I have beer. You like beer.”

Jared grins. “You know me so well. Where you at?” He scribbles down Jensen’s address as he rattles it off in a rush.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Jensen adds. “I don’t like strangers knowing where I live.”

“I won’t,” Jared promises. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes,” he hears Jensen repeat as he hangs up.

Fifteen minutes. Jared said fifteen minutes. Jensen walks to the window, looking down on the dark street. A few cars drive by but none stop. He walks back to the door, leaning his forehead against the wood. Checks his watch. It’s been fifteen minutes and ten seconds. Ten seconds! He drums his fingers against the wall then turns around and walks back to the window. One car. Two cars. Three cars. All drive by without stopping. He checks his watch again. Sixteen minutes and thirteen seconds. Jensen blows out his breath. Counts to a hundred. Goes back to the door and looks through the small peephole. No one there. He looks at his watch once more. Eighteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

“He’s not coming. He’s not coming. Where is he?”

Jensen slams the door with his hand, flinching at the loud noise. There are people in the other apartments. They don’t like loud noises any more than he does. He’s crossing the room to the window again when there’s a knock on the door, making him almost jump out of his skin. He stands absolutely still, ears straining. There’s another knock, a little louder this time.

“Jensen? You in there?”

“Who is it?” he asks just to be sure, even if he’d recognize Jared’s voice anywhere.

“It’s me. Jared. You gonna let me in?”

“You said fifteen minutes!” Jensen shouts back. “It’s been…” He checks. “…twenty minutes and forty-three seconds!”

There’s silence for a moment. “I lost my watch,” Jared finally says.

Jensen blinks. “Oh. Okay.” He goes and checks through the peephole to make sure it really is Jared before unlocking the door. “You should buy a new watch. Punctuality is very important.”

Jared nods solemnly, but there are lines at the corners of his eyes, and his lips twitch slightly. “I will. And I apologize for being late.”

“Apology accepted.” Jensen steps back to let him inside. “Shoes off. Jacket in the closet.” He watches to make sure Jared does as he’s told before pointing towards the living room. “Go and sit down. I’ll bring you the beer.”

He goes into the kitchen and fetches two bottles from the fridge. He’s not really thirsty but guests shouldn’t drink alone. When he gets back into the living room Jared isn’t sitting on the couch. Instead he’s standing by the bookshelves, flipping through one of Jensen’s books. Jensen hesitates. He wants to tell Jared that he was supposed to sit down, but that’s probably rude, and Jared did come all the way over here just to visit him.

“Your beer,” he says instead and puts the bottles on the coffee table, hoping Jared will take the hint. But Jared just glances over his shoulder with a cheerful, “Thanks,” and continues reading. Jensen sits down on the couch and sips his beer. He stands up again and walks over, hovering awkwardly by Jared’s side.

“You have an impressive library,” Jared says, putting the book away before selecting another. “Big reader, huh?”

“Yes.” Jensen reaches out and adjusts the book until its spine is in perfect line with the others. “This is the Supernatural shelf,” he explains. It’s not as packed as some of the others but he still has a nice collection: urban legends, classic cars, rock music… He has some more arriving from Amazon that he’d been saving until they got word of the season getting picked up. “Over there is the Smallville one,” he continues. The Essential Superman Encyclopedia. Smallville companion books. Football coaching strategies. “Dark Angel.” Genetic engineering. Cloning. Piano for beginners. “And so on.”

Jared shakes his head, smiling that small smile of his. He looks a little like Jensen’s mother does sometimes, when he catches her watching him. Usually before she tells him that she’s proud of him. He’s not sure why Jared would be looking at him like that.

“I got you your beer,” he says, jerking his head toward the coffee table. “It’s over there.”

Jared looks over and then back at Jensen, smiling again before carefully putting away the book, this time with the spine almost perfectly aligned. “Okay, let’s have some beer.” Jensen manages to hold back until Jared has turned away before nudging the book in its right place.

They sit down on opposite ends of the couch, Jensen straight up with his feet flat on the floor; Jared slouching more, ankles crossed.

“You wanna watch the game?” he asks. “I know it’s a repeat but I missed it earlier.”

Jensen has no idea what game Jared is referring to but he says yes anyway.

Turns out it’s basketball. Jensen doesn’t really know much about basketball. It’s never been essential for any of his characters. He feels a little lost. If it was football he could at least make small talk with some informative tidbits. Jason Teague coached football. Jensen thinks of asking if they can find a football game to watch instead, but Jared looks immersed in what’s already on, so Jensen sits back and tries to follow what’s happening.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” Jared says after a while. “I was pretty bored myself.”

Jensen opens his mouth to remind Jared that he actually invited himself over, but Jared gives him such a big and bright smile Jensen forgets his words.

“I’m not bored anymore,” he says instead, and if anything Jared’s smile turns even brighter.

Jensen blinks. He feels a little dizzy. There’s something muddling his brain, a strange emotion, making it hard to think. It almost overpowers the other feeling he always has when he’s near Jared, the one where he wants Jared to be naked and on his bed. Actually, when he thinks about it, he wouldn’t mind not having sex with Jared if it meant he’d get to have more moments like this instead, with Jared sitting right beside him and smiling like there’s no other place he’d rather be.

“Now remember, I’m right here. You feel yourself slipping you just grab on to me, and I’ll cue you right back in, okay?”

Jensen nods. His brow is knitted in deep concentration as he goes through his usual finger tapping ritual. His teeth dig into his lower lip, something Jared knows will leave it looking even fuller than usual. It’s all he can do not to run his thumb under Jensen’s chin and tip his head up so he can…

Jared takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “You ready?” he asks, keeping his voice light.

Jensen finishes his tapping before taking a deep breath as well, and then he looks up, the reserved smile he uses for the media right and ready on his face. His gaze only does a little roaming before finding its way to Jared’s eyes, and this time it stays for – Jared counts – six seconds. Every second added feels like a small victory. Even Danneel has never gotten more than three. The same feeling from before fires up in Jared’s belly, of pride and affection, and so much more that he’s definitely not going to delve into right now.

See, here’s the thing. Jared’s never had much tolerance for discrimination. All men – and women, of course – are created equal in his book. It shouldn’t matter where you come from, or how much money you’ve got, or how you look, or whether you’re smart or maybe not so smart. Same goes for sexuality, gender, race, etc, etc. All that stuff that makes people different from one another? It’s basically what makes them the same: human beings. So Jared always kinda figured that when he’d meet someone and fell in love, it could be with just about anyone on the planet.

Well, any guy on the planet. Girls kinda fell off Jared’s radar in that spectrum when he figured out the whole gay thing in high school. But yeah, it wouldn’t be about what that person was, it would be about who they were.

So how come the only reason Jared hasn’t pushed Jensen up against the nearest wall and kissed the hell out of him is the fact that Jensen is different?

It’s not as if Jensen has given him any reason to think he wouldn’t go for it. Hell, the guy has been telling Jared from day one that he wants to see his penis. See it, touch it, taste it… Even going so far as suggesting it would be interesting to see how well it would fit into his anus. (Jensen’s word, not his. Jared really doesn’t like to use the word ‘anus’ unless it involves a joke and is preceded by the letters ‘u’ and ‘r’.)

Clearly Jensen is not a blushing virgin, although Jared can’t quite figure out how he went about getting all that experience, considering he’s not really good at flirting. Maybe he just does this with everyone, tells them he’d like to have their dicks in his ass. Looking the way Jensen does, a guy would have to be deaf, blind and stupid to turn him down. Jared gathers if he asked, Jensen would probably tell him all about his methods in excruciating details. Which is why Jared doesn’t.

But yes, Jensen obviously wants him, and, with every day that goes by, Jared is finding it harder and harder to laugh off his blunt advances. And they haven’t even started filming the rest of the season yet! How is he going to survive the next nine months glued to Jensen’s side? And more importantly, why the hell is he resisting?

Jensen is gorgeous. And not just in a pretty boy kinda way, he’s smoking hot in every aspect. Even his bowlegs turn Jared on. Jensen is funny, especially when he doesn’t mean to be. He’s smart and interesting on so many levels Jared doesn’t know where to start. He’s adorable in his awkward shyness. He’s honest to the point of being rude, which for some reason Jared finds more amusing than insulting, even when it’s directed at him. He has small habits and quirks that should get on Jared’s nerves, but he actually finds endearing. And when Jensen goes off track, sometimes resulting in meltdowns and tantrums of epic proportions, so that people around him back away in discomfort having no idea how to handle it, Jared only wants to step closer. Wants to help Jensen deal with whatever is disturbing him and be there to calm him down or rescue him from the situation that’s screwing him over. And then he wants to pull Jensen close and kiss him breathless, followed by fucking his brains out.

So what’s really stopping him?

“When we go back to Vancouver, I would like it if we shared an apartment,” Jensen says as their limo swings up to the sidewalk. “Danneel would be better, at least she can cook, but you are good, too. And we can have sex,” he adds. “Which makes your lack of culinary skills less important.”

Oh yeah, that would be what.

Jensen might be all for going to bed with him, but Jared outgrew his need for casual sex a long time ago. And so far Jensen hasn’t given him any indication that he’s looking for a real relationship. In fact all of his propositions make it sound like he’s simply looking for a friend with benefits. And however much Jared wants the benefits – God, does he ever! – the ‘friends’ part would break his stupid heart, because he wants so much more.

Before he can form an answer, the door is swung open, and Jensen steps out onto the red carpet, carrying the confidence of his character, and the casual smile of a small time TV star heading towards a brighter future. Jared quickly follows, goofy grin in place, and together they walk past the hundreds of fans, and reporters with cameras flashing and girls screaming all around them. And when Jensen steps closer, his smile starting to look a little strained, Jared puts an arm over his shoulders and tries not to take it personally, when Jensen presses his palm to Jared’s chest, right over his heart.

Jensen hates flying.

It’s noisy, and packed with people, and if he’s really unlucky someone will recognize him, and then he’s really screwed. He always gets a seat by the window and asks for a pillow and a blanket the first chance he gets, so he can cover up and pretend to be asleep. If Danneel is with him she’ll sit in the aisle seat, acting like a buffer and making sure no one gets too close. But she’s not with him this time. It’s just him, and business class was full, so he’s in economy, pressed up against the wall by the very large woman in the middle seat taking up half his space as well as her own. The guy in the aisle seat is snoring already, not surprising considering he smells like a brewery.

Jensen leans into the wall with his eyes closed, breathing deeply. He can do this. He can.

Someone kicks him in the back and Jensen jerks forward, breath hitching. He risks a glance over his shoulder and there’s a kid about five years old in the next row, staring at him. Jensen quickly looks away and the kid kicks again. And again. Drumming the toes of his shoes into Jensen’s back like a jackhammer. Jensen bends forward and hides his face in the pillow. Fuck. He’s about to lose it and they haven’t even taken off yet!

“Sir? Are you alright?”

He glances to his left. There’s a woman standing in the aisle. Uniform. Flight attendant. “Fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fi–” He slams the heel of his hand into his forehead to stop himself, making the woman next to him jump, her elbow accidentally hitting him in the ribs. “Fuck. Shit.”

“Sir, are you having a panic attack?”

“Not panicking. I’m not panicking.” He starts rocking in his seat, eyes closed. “Vancouver is a coastal city located in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia, Canada. It’s named for British Captain George Vancouver, who explored the area in the 1790s. The name Vancouver itself originates from the Dutch ‘van Coevorden’, denoting somebody from Coevorden, a city in the Netherlands.”

“Sir? We’re about to take off. If you need a doctor it’s better if we get you off the plane now. Sir?”

Jensen shakes his head. “I’m not sick! Vancouver’s residents are ethnically and linguistically diverse; fifty two percent do not speak English as their first language. The city is particularly famous for its Chinese culture, and almost a third of the city’s inhabitants are of Chinese origin.”

“Sir, I really think you should come with me.”

She leans over to touch his shoulder, and that’s it, he snaps. “I’m not sick!” he hisses, fighting to keep his voice low. “I’m a fucking Aspie, okay? I have Asperger’s. Please just… leave me alone.”

Shit.

She backs away instantly. “I’m sorry.” The smile is hesitant, her face flushed red with embarrassment. “Would you be more comfortable in a less crowded seat? There’s an empty row further back.”

He shakes his head. “My ticket says I should sit here.”

“It’s okay, we move people all the time. It’s no problem.”

“My ticket says I should sit here,” Jensen insists. “This is my seat. I need to be in my seat.”

“I can move,” the woman next to him says quickly. “I don’t mind. Would that help?” she asks, turning to Jensen.

He blinks rapidly. “Yes, thank you. You are really big. Half of you is in my space.”

She looks a little startled, but then she laughs. “Well, honey, can’t argue with that. Those seats aren’t exactly made for women my size.”

“I’m sorry. That was rude. You’re not… I just don’t like people being so close. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it.” She pats him on the knee, quickly withdrawing her hand when he flinches. “You have a pleasant flight now,” she says and stands up, squeezing past the guy in the aisle seat, who is fast asleep, snoring and drooling a little. With the woman gone the smell of alcohol is even stronger.

“Can you move him too?” Jensen asks the flight attendant. Julia, her nametag says. “He smells. It’s distracting. And quite nauseating. And the boy behind me keeps kicking my back. Can you make him take his shoes off?”

“I…” She looks a little lost. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He sleeps most of the way; the blanket pulled so far over his head only his nose sticks out. When they finally land he stays in his seat until everyone is gone. He can feel Julia’s eyes on him as he gets his backpack out of the overhead compartment. When he walks past her she touches his elbow lightly, and he stops dead, eyes fixed on the open door in front of him.

“Just wanted to tell you I love your work,” she says quietly. “I never would have guessed… You’re a great actor.”

He swallows. “I’m sorry about…” He waves his hand toward his abandoned seat. “I usually fly first class, but it was booked solid. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“You didn’t. It’s what we’re here for, to make your flight as comfortable as possible.”

He nods. “Thank you,” he says, shifting awkwardly on his feet. He really wishes Danneel was here. Or better yet, Jared. He hates having to deal with this kind of thing on his own. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about, about what I said,” he adds in a low voice.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she assures him.

He nods again and walks out.

The network sets them up in a house. Jared doesn’t know if Jensen really did demand they’d room together, or if The Powers That Be just decided it would be more convenient. Not that it matters. Having a house means – once he’s cleared it with Jensen – that Jared can bring his dogs and that’s all he cares about. He hates being away from his dogs.

Jensen is apprehensive at first, but Jared’s dogs prove themselves to be more perceptive than most people. Instead of jumping Jensen like oversized puppies on crack, the way they usually greet strangers, Sadie approaches slowly and lies down two feet away, big eyes watching Jensen soulfully. Even Harley sits back, tongue lolling and tail thudding the floor. Jared doesn’t think he’s ever seen his dogs so well behaved.

After a long silence where Jensen stands immobile, hand ready on the doorknob, he finally takes a step forward and crouches down. He scratches Sadie behind the ears, while Harley shuffles over and licks his hand.

“Jared’s dogs,” Jensen says, nodding to himself. “Okay. You’re okay.”

Sadie presses her cold nose to Jensen’s neck, and he lets out a surprised laugh. Jared blinks and clears his throat. The house must be dusty the way his eyes itch.

Living with someone is a lot different from living in separate apartments in the same hotel. Especially when that someone is Jensen.

Jensen has coffee and All-Bran for breakfast. Every day. Jared tried to make him pancakes one Sunday morning and Jensen just sat there, awkward and silent until Jared said, “Or you can just have your usual. It’s okay, I don’t mind.” It would have been funny how relieved Jensen looked if Jared didn’t feel so damn sad for him. He can’t really think of many things worse than not being able to have pancakes for breakfast whenever the mood strikes. It’s tragic.

Thankfully, Jensen isn’t as strict about their dinners, even if he does like to keep to a schedule. Most days they eat on set, where the staff is only too happy to cater to Jensen’s needs. The nights they’re at home they keep it simple. Pizza – one each with their choice of toppings – and Chinese.

Danneel is right though, Jensen is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Jared suspects he’s just gotten used to people doing things for him, and it takes him a little while to get back on track. Like their first morning, when he’d found Jensen in front of his closet, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs and looking completely at a loss, because apparently Danneel hadn’t made him any kind of dressing schedule.

“Dude, just grab something,” Jared had said, keeping his voice light and a little teasing, even if the whole thing made his stomach twist. “You’re gonna change into Dean’s clothes anyway.”

Jensen had pursed his lips then nodded and put on the top t-shirt in the drawer, the first shirt on the row of hangers and the nearest jeans in his closet. Through the week he methodically went through the rest of his clothes the same way, until it was time to do laundry, and the whole thing started over again. After two weeks Jared helped Jensen rearrange his clothes in an order that had him dressing at least a little color coordinated.

Jared brought with him –apart from the dogs and his clothes – a laptop, a stack of DVDs and lots of music.

Jensen brought books.

They fill the shelf in his bedroom and are stacked on every surface in the living room as well. Jensen is obsessed with reading up on everything Dean should know. For starters he has half a dozen books on classic cars and the Impala. Jared skims through them sometimes, because, let’s face it, the Impala is about the coolest car he’s ever had the pleasure to ride in, but Jensen reads them word for word, memorizing everything. He also has a 1/18 model that he keeps on the small desk in his room and he’ll spend hours comparing it to the facts he’s reading, making small notes in the margins.

He has books on ghosts, and urban legends, and guns and fighting techniques. He has dozens of maps of the United States, which is kinda ridiculous, because wherever Sam and Dean may travel, Jared and Jensen never actually leave British Columbia. He has books on shooting pool and how to hustle for money. How to flirt with women, how to pick up girls, how to pleasure them in every possible way. Books about father-son relationships. Brother-brother relationships. Losing a parent. Dealing with grief. With guilt. With jealousy. With feelings of inadequacy.

And then there are the other books. The ones Jared secretly calls ‘Jensen books’. Pretending To Be Normal. Social Skill Training. Understanding Metaphors. Understanding Facial Expressions. Body Language. Communication Issues. Navigating the Social World. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. Stress Management.

Some of them are worn with use. Others have hardly been opened.

“Mom keeps trying to improve me,” Jensen explains when he catches Jared flipping through a shiny new book about establishing and maintaining longtime relationships. He doesn’t sound too happy about it.

“Maybe she just wants to help you improve your life?” Jared suggests after casually putting the book away, hoping Jensen doesn’t notice his embarrassment. He can’t help wondering if Jensen has mentioned him to his mother. Or maybe she’s just thinking of Jensen’s relationship with Danneel, hoping it grows into something more romantic.

Jensen gives him a perplexed look. “What’s the difference?”

“Well…” Jared stops. He doesn’t really know. “I’m sure she just wants you to be happy. It’s a mom thing.”

Jensen frowns. “I am happy,” he says. “You’re here.”

Jared blinks. “Oh,” he says, cheeks burning. “Uhm, thanks. For wanting me here,” he elaborates awkwardly when Jensen looks confused.

“I’d want you anywhere,” Jensen says easily and adjusts the slightly uneven row of books on the shelf. “I need to go over my lines for tomorrow. You should, too.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Jensen’s script is covered in numbers, arrows and small curves. At first Jared thought Jensen was just doodling or working math problems in his head, but then he noticed a pattern to which numbers went where, and Jensen’s methodology clicked into place with staggering clarity. Watching Jensen now – his face making the right expression for each number as he gets to it, his tone changing in accordance to the directional signs – is so impressive that Jared has a hard time concentrating on his own lines.

Everything about Jensen is pretty impressive actually, once Jared becomes conscious of just how much work Jensen has to put into things. Things that Jared never even thinks about.

Jensen isn’t so much shy as he’s just awkward, because he’s not always sure what is going on with the people he’s interacting with. Just as he’s not really antisocial, he just feels out of his depth when he has to concentrate on more than one person at a time. Most jokes go over his head, same with metaphors and expressions that he hasn’t learned by heart. It’s more noticeable when he’s interacting with the Canadians, which, admittedly, even Jared has trouble understanding sometimes. But whereas Jared can guess or just fake his way through it, Jensen gets nervous as hell, because he can feel he’s missing something; he just doesn’t know what. It’s amazing watching Jensen take in everything that’s going on around him and then use all his learned skills to try and adapt and fit in. And heartbreaking to witness him stress out and panic the times he feels completely lost and is fighting to hide it. Usually that’s when Jared suddenly remembers they’re supposed to be somewhere else. It’s a bit awkward and probably not that convincing, but it works, and that’s all that matters.

The work is more demanding than anything Jared’s ever done before. Shooting the pilot had been hard, yes, but the schedule hadn’t been as hectic. They’d taken the time to find their footing, to figure out what worked, and what didn’t. Now they have eight days to film each episode. Eight days of getting up before dawn and working until it’s too dark to shoot. And then they move it indoors and keep on going. By the third day Jared finds himself spending almost every moment between takes slouched in his chair, snoozing, while at the same time trying to keep an eye on Jensen.

Jensen likes to sit in the Impala on the short breaks between takes. Jared tried to join him once but Jensen locked the doors and wouldn’t let him in. If they’re on one of the sets he’ll storm off, not coming back until Jared texts him that he’s needed. It takes Jared almost a week to realize where Jensen disappears to: the handicap toilet on the far side of the building. The only place close enough where he can be alone with no fear of interruption.

By the time they make it home at the end of their increasingly longer days, Jensen is worn out physically and worn thin emotionally. He loses his temper at the drop of a hat. He rambles on and on about everything and nothing. He locks himself in his room and refuses to come out. Once, when work drags out for eighteen excruciating hours, Jensen hardly even makes it through the door before sliding down the wall, and there he sits in the dark hallway, rocking back and forth with his hands over his ears, until he falls asleep from exhaustion.

“It’s too much,” Jared tells Danneel. He’s sitting up in bed, Jensen’s bed, watching him sleep. The skin under Jensen’s eyes is bruised thin. He’s still wearing all his clothes. It’s four o’clock in the fucking morning. “He’s gonna burn out at this rate.”

“He has the right to call for a break whenever he needs it,” she says. It’s seven a.m. at her end, but apparently she likes getting up early. Jensen says someone should check her head instead of constantly doubting his, because that kind of perkiness can’t be normal. “It’s in his contract. All he has to do is say when.”

“Well, he never does. He’s even more anal than Kripke. Everything has to be fucking perfect. We did fifteen takes today on a scene that he nailed on his first try. And every goddamn take after that.” Jared groans. “He’s just… God, he’s so fucking anal.”

“Okay, this is where you come in, Jared,” Danneel says calmly. “Get him to loosen up. Tell him to take a fucking chill pill. Pull that stick out of his ass. Whatever it takes.”

Jared closes his eyes, feeling completely out of his depth. “Why would he even listen to me?”

“Because I’m pretty sure you’re the main reason why he’s so set on being perfect.”

“What?” Jared must be more tired than he thought, because that makes no sense. “Why would…? What?”

“He kinda likes you, in case you hadn’t noticed,” she says. It sounds like she’s smiling. “Whenever I call him, you’re all he ever talks about.”

“Well, it’s pretty much just the two of us,” Jared says lamely. “Don’t think that actually means much.”

“He calls you his best friend. I think that means as much as you want it to mean.”

Jared doubts it, considering he wants it to mean everything.

“That was amazing,” Jared whispers as soon as David Nutter yells cut. “I love what you did there.”

Jensen bites his lip then shakes his head. “No. It was off. I should have–”

“Dude, it was amazing. You do it any better than that, you’re gonna make me look bad. Seriously, I’m fucking embarrassed.” Jared sighs. “You keep getting better and better, and I’m barely hanging in there.”

Jensen doesn’t know what to say. It didn’t feel that great; he knows he can do better. But he doesn’t want Jared to feel bad either. He doesn’t know where Jared gets the idea that he’s barely hanging in there; he seems to give just as good as he gets. It seems ridiculous that he should worry about not being good enough. And wrong if Jensen is the one making him feel that way. However much he wants every take to be perfect it’s not worth Jared’s self-esteem taking a beating.

“You were good,” he says and tries for a smile. “That… that was good.” He breathes out, reluctantly letting go off his own discontent. “We were good.”

“Yeah?” Jared’s smile brightens. “You really think so? It was okay?”

“Yes. It was okay. It was good.” He smiles and nods, feeling all warm inside when Jared grins back, happy.

They finish that day’s takes before sundown. When they get home they watch a little TV, until Jared falls asleep on the couch. Jensen sits for a long time watching him before turning off the lights and going to his room.

So far living with Jared is nothing like he thought it would be, and still so much more than he ever could have dreamed of. It’s very confusing this constant battle of happiness and frustration. He doesn’t really know what to make of it.

“So this is how we’re gonna do it.”

The smile on Kim Manners’ thin, weathered face is warm and filled with confidence. He’s a guest director for the third episode, has been here less than a week, but Jensen already likes him better than David Nutter and Eric Kripke combined. They’re always awkward around him, like they don’t know how to interact with someone so different.

Kim had walked up to them his first day on set and put out his hand, patiently waiting for Jensen to take it. “I’m Kim,” he’d said, not shaking Jensen’s hand but just holding on to it. “I’ll be directing this week, so whatever you need, boys, you come talk to me. Don’t worry about anyone else. I’m the boss, and it’s my job to look after you guys, okay?”

Jensen had looked at Jared, searching his face for how to react. Jared was smiling, looking happier than he had since they started shooting the season, so Jensen had smiled as well and given Kim a nod.

Things are different with Kim directing. Whenever Jensen starts to feel edgy or tattered all he has to do is touch Jared’s hand, Jared will give Kim a subtle sign and just like that he’ll call for a break, no questions asked. People smile more, joke more, and Jensen goes home every night feeling tired but content, like maybe he did a good job instead of letting everyone down.

He really hopes Kim sticks around.

“You just stay relaxed and keep afloat, okay?” Kim is saying. “Don’t worry about the kid. The kid swims like a fish. He could probably save your butt if it came to it.”

Jensen nods. His stomach is in knots, and he feels a little dizzy. The kid is holding his hand, squeezing it tight, but he doesn’t look scared at all. If anything he looks like pretending to drown is the most fun he’s had in ages. Kids are weird.

“The divers will tap your leg three times before pulling you down,” Kim continues. “If you still don’t feel ready just kick out, and they’ll let go. Alright? Jensen, you with me?”

He nods again, breathing deeply. The wetsuit clings to his skin under his clothes, tight and suffocating. “Yeah. Yes. Yes. Piece of cake.”

He never really got that saying. Why would a piece of cake be any easier than say a piece of fruit? Or just a sandwich? Cake has a tendency to go everywhere. Especially if there’s whipped cream. And baking a cake is even more complicated. Frankly there is nothing easy about cake.

“Okay. Remember, any time you feel like quitting, or that you need a break just give us a wave. Same goes for you, Nico. You start feeling nervous, just tell Jensen to let go and swim ashore or give us a wave, and we’ll come get you.”

The kid nods. “Got it.” He looks up at Jensen and smiles. “Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.”

Jensen nods and fakes a grin. “Piece of cake,” he repeats. “Right?”

The kid grins back. “Right.”

They stand waiting at the end of the pier while the crew sets up the cameras and lights and the divers go over everything one last time. Jared is standing by the edge of the lake, watching them. He looks small so far away. Jensen’s hand twitches, and the boy clutches it harder, his small fingers slipping in Jensen’s sweaty grip.

“Whenever I feel nervous I do math in my head,” Nico says. “Like the times table? We can do that if you want. You know the times table, right?”

Jensen breathes. “Yes.” Math isn’t really an interest of his but he still knows more than most people.

“Or we can do something else,” Nico offers. “What do you like?”

“Geography. I like geography,” Jensen says and clears his throat. It’s a little dry. “I know everything there is to know about Canada.”

“Really?” the boy asks, eyes wide. “Everything?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know where my grandma lives?”

Jensen frowns. “No.”

“Then you don’t know everything everything,” the boy points out, but he doesn’t sound smug, just matter-of-fact. “I can tell you where she lives if you want?”

“Okay.”

He keeps his eyes on Jared as the boy rambles on about his grandmother, and her two cats and the trail behind her house where he likes to ride his bike. When he’s done Jensen tells him all about the aboriginal people of Canada, and Nico listens and nods and doesn’t even once ask him to stop.

Kim comes to ask them if they’re ready, and Jensen nods and smiles and says, “Ready, tiger?” using his Dean voice.

Nico grins and tells him, “I was born ready,” in a weird, deep voice that has Kim laughing. Jensen laughs as well, even if he has no idea what’s supposed to be so funny. They jump off the pier into the cold water and finish the scene in two takes. All in all it’s one of his better days.

The whole crew gets together to watch the airing of the pilot, mid-September. Barbecue, beer and nervous optimism color the evening. They already feel like a family, and the possibility that the whole thing might flop is making everyone drink too much and laugh too loud.

“We’re good for two seasons minimum,” Jensen says, not seeming to understand why people are so worried. Then he goes into a long speech about viewer numbers and cult shows, until everyone but Jared has made their excuses and slipped away.

“I’m boring, I know,” Jensen admits when he’s finally done. “I don’t mean to be, I just can’t stop myself.”

“I don’t find you boring,” Jared says with a smile. “You’re really not nervous?”

“Why do you think I’m talking so much?”

Jensen drains his beer before grabbing another. He stumbles slightly, and Jared steadies him, arm over his shoulders. He tries not to think too much of it when Jensen leans into it instead of jerking away.

“But you just told everyone we’re sure for two years?” he says instead.

“That’s not what’s making me nervous.” Someone roars with laughter, and Jensen winces. “Everyone is really drunk. I don’t like it when people are drunk.”

Just then one of the camera guys, Brian, swaggers up to them and gives Jared a friendly slap on the back before turning his attention to Jensen. Jensen tenses, his whole body vibrating against Jared’s side. Brian leans closer as he tries to catch Jensen’s gaze and sighs dramatically when Jensen doesn’t comply.

“Gotta say, kid, didn’t think you could do it. Never worked with someone like you, but, hell… Whatever you lack up here,” Brian taps his head, “you got in here.” He pats Jensen on the chest and gives him a wide smile, oblivious to his discomfort. “You’re one of a kind, Ackles. One of a kind.”

“Thanks, Brian,” Jared says coolly and pushes him firmly away. “I think it’s starting. Why don’t you go have a seat?”

“One of a kind!” Brian shouts before stumbling to join the others.

“You okay?” Jared asks in a low voice.

“This is why I don’t like drunk people,” Jensen says hoarsely.

“He means well,” Jared tries, painfully aware of how lame it sounds.

“He thinks I’m mentally retarded.” Jensen gulps down half his beer and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. It trembles. “They all do,” he continues unsteadily. “Jeannie calls me ‘sweetie’. Like, like I’m a child. I’m not a child. I’m not… I’m twenty-seven years old!”

“They’re just… They care about you, man. They like you.”

Jensen shakes his head. “They like you. They pity me. They pity me, Jared!”

“Jensen, no.” Jared tightens his grip on Jensen’s shoulder but Jensen won’t meet his eyes. “That’s not…”

Before he gets any further Sera is there, pulling on Jared’s arm and demanding they ‘sit their asses down’. There are two seats waiting for them, front row, and even if Jared knows Jensen would feel a lot more comfortable staying back and out of sight there’s nothing they can do but comply. As the opening scene starts he grabs Jensen’s hand and squeezes it, disappointed but not surprised when Jensen doesn’t squeeze back. Jensen’s eyes are on the big screen, his face as blank as it ever is, but at least he doesn’t pull away.

It’s strange to watch the two boys that are supposed to be Sam and Dean when they were little, even stranger than seeing the woman who becomes their dead mother, and the man who will later come back to play their dad. Jared knows of Jeffrey Dean Morgan, has seen him on Grey’s Anatomy and other stuff, but he hasn’t met him yet. That whole opening scene was shot completely separate from the rest.

John Winchester yells, “Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don’t look back!” and Jensen’s hand jumps in Jared’s grip. Jared glances over and the look on Jensen’s face is all Dean, like he’s reliving a nightmare that’s burned into his memory. Losing his mother, his childhood, his innocence. It hurts Jared’s heart.

Then it’s Sam at Stanford, having the easy life with Jess. Adrianne was a hoot and Jared loved working with her, but it’s still strange, sitting beside Jensen and watching scenes he wasn’t a part of. This, it’s not what the show is about anyway. It’s about Sam and Dean. About being brothers. Being a family. Jessica’s death, however horrific, really only served as a catalyst to what Sera likes to call Sam and Dean’s epic romance.

Jensen tenses again the minute Dean enters the scene. He’s biting his lip so hard Jared worries his teeth might actually cut through the flesh, his brow is knitted in concentration, and the hand Jared isn’t holding is a flurry of movement, fingers tapping his thumb in an endless rhythm of back and forth. Jared’s attention is so focused on Jensen and Dean that it takes him a moment to notice that the room has fallen completely silent. He sneaks a glance around, nervous, a little worried. Everyone is staring at the screen. Mouths open, eyes wide… Shooting quick glances at Jensen and then back up at Dean, like they just can’t compute. Eric and Kim are the only ones sitting back, hands behind their heads, grinning widely like this is exactly what they were expecting.

Jared turns his eyes back to the front, smiling to himself. On the screen in front of him Jensen continues to blow everyone’s mind as he takes Dean to heights Jared knows no one in the room thought him capable of.

Jensen isn’t sure what changed. Something. People still stare at him, but it’s different. It’s not… It’s not pity. That’s what’s different. Jeannie still calls him sweetie but she calls Jared honey so maybe… maybe. He’s not sure. It’s just different.

He finds himself smiling more. Laughing. Talking to people beside Jared. He goes to work, and it’s fun. He can’t remember ever having fun at work before. And even when it’s not, even when he’s tired, and lacking and stressing out it’s still better than any other job he’s ever had, because… Because Jared is there. And he’d rather be tired, and lacking and stressed with Jared than the best he can be without him.

He can’t really imagine being anything without Jared. Being anywhere. And it’s frightening, because he’s never needed anyone like that before. He’s always been a loner, not so much by choice as just because most people need more to form a relationship – any kind of relationship – than what he can give them. But with Jared he wants to give. Wants to be that person for Jared, just like Jared is that person for him. The one he can’t imagine his life without.

He just wishes he knew how to tell Jared that. So far all his advances have been laughed off or just plainly ignored. And fuck, he gets it. He’s not really dating material; based on what he’s learned from watching numerous romantic movies with Danneel anyway. He’s awkward, and boring, and weird and embarrassing. Either he talks too much or not at all. And Jared… Jared is this wonderful human being. Everyone loves him. Everyone wants to be near him. Jensen they tolerate, but Jared… They like Jared. Jared could have anyone he wants.

Jensen just really wishes that anyone was him.

Sundays are Jared’s favorite. He takes the dogs for a run, breathing in the crisp cold air of early Vancouver morning, and by the time he comes back Jensen is usually up and dressed and sitting by the kitchen table drinking his coffee as he flips through the Sunday paper. They’ll eat lunch together and go grocery shopping, and in the evening they’ll read over their scripts for next week. It feels oddly homey, like all they’re missing is a couple of kids and a bigger bed in the master bedroom, and they’d be as boringly normal as any other married couple in Canada.

“You looking forward to hiatus?” Jared asks Jensen one late November evening.

After a long silence Jared looks up from his script, thinking Jensen didn’t hear him but he’s right there at the other end of the couch, watching Jared with an odd look on his face. “Jensen? Hiatus? You going home to see your folks?”

“I don’t want to go home,” Jensen says. “I hate flying.”

“Huh.” Jared’s not sure what to say to that. “We could fly together, I don’t mind driving home from Richardson.”

“Can’t we just stay here?”

“For Christmas?” Jared puts down the script, trying to read Jensen’s expression. He doesn’t look like the thought of flying actually scares him, but it’s hard to tell. If Jared was to guess, he’d say Jensen seems frustrated. “Don’t you want to see your family?”

Jensen shrugs, his fingers drumming a rhythm upon his knee, his teeth digging into his lower lip. “I’d rather see you,” he says finally.

Jared can’t help but smile. “You see me every day, all day. Aren’t you sick of me yet?”

Jensen shakes his head. “Are you sick of me?” he asks.

His voice is flat, but his fingers keep drumming faster and harder. Jared reaches over and takes his hand to stop him, before he hurts himself. Jensen stops, but he doesn’t look up. His eyes are blinking rapidly, and his breathing is a little hurried.

“No, I’m not sick of you,” Jared says tightly, for once glad that Jensen sucks at reading emotions, because damn if Jared can hide how he feels. “I don’t think I could ever get sick of you, Jensen.”

Jensen purses his lips. “Everyone gets sick of me eventually.”

“Well, I’m not everyone,” Jared tells him, squeezing Jensen’s hand, until he finally looks up. His pupils are dilated, leaving barely a rind of green. He looks… sad? Scared? God, Jared wishes he had a Jensen manual. No matter how much he’s read up on Asperger’s these past few months, trying to get some insight into Jensen’s life, Jensen himself is most of the time still an enigma. Like now. Right now, Jared has absolutely no idea what’s going on inside Jensen’s head.

“Is it because I’m too weird?” Jensen asks suddenly, his gaze darting away again.

Jared blinks. “What?”

Jensen pulls his hand back, the fingers curling into a fist. “You’re gay. I’m gay. I like you. You say you like me, but you don’t…” He takes a deep breath. “ You always say no. Is it because I’m weird?”

Jared sits back, his heart picking up speed in his chest. Five months, half a season, and here they are, finally facing the pink elephant in the room.

“I do like you,” he says carefully. “I like you a lot. And you’re not weird. Well, okay, you are. But I like your… weirdness. It’s what makes you, you.”

“I like you more than anyone I’ve ever met,” Jensen says, his words rushed like he’s desperate to get them out. “I like you more than Danneel. I… I like sex, okay? And I really want to have sex with you.”

Jared’s heart sinks. “Jensen…”

“No. Listen. Listen. I want to have sex with you, but if not having sex means you’ll stay then, then I want that more. Other people can give me sex. I can give me sex. You give me a lot more. I, I really like you, Jared. My chest hurts when I think of you not being here. I feel good when you are here. I never want you to leave. I really want to kiss you. I want to sleep in your bed, just sleep. I want… You are my best friend, Jared.”

Jared stares at Jensen. At the flush coloring his cheeks, the nervous twitch of his lips. The curve of his shoulders, pulling higher the longer Jensen holds his breath. Jared shifts closer on the couch, reaching out to lay a hand on Jensen’s neck. He can feel Jensen’s heartbeat like a rapid drum under the pad of his thumb.

“Jensen, can you look at me?”

Jensen’s eyes flicker from Jared’s chin to his mouth, his ear, his nose, his eyebrows. And then they’re there, staring into Jared’s eyes, struggling to keep focus, to stay still. Fighting so hard they’re watering. Big and green and desperate.

Jared runs his fingers into Jensen’s hair, cradling the back of his head. “I really like you, too,” he says softly and pulls Jensen in.

Jensen makes a soft noise when Jared kisses him, a breath of a small whimper that warms Jared’s mouth. Encouraged Jared licks over Jensen’s lower lip, tasting copper where his teeth have bruised the soft flesh, and traces of bitter coffee at the corner of his mouth. Jared’s heart is hammering in his chest, matching the beat pounding under his thumb on Jensen’s neck. He dares another lick, sliding his tongue over the valley between Jensen’s lips and feels dizzy when Jensen parts them on a moan, eagerly letting him in. Oh God, this is really happening.

He shifts closer on the couch, tilting his head for a better angle, and it’s as if Jensen had been waiting for that specific invitation, because he surges forward, crushing their lips together and sucking Jared’s tongue into his mouth. Jared groans, his fingers tightening in Jensen’s hair, while Jensen fumbles at Jared’s chest, fisting his shirt, whether to keep him close or at a distance, Jared’s not sure. Jensen is breathing so hard he’s shaking, the heel of his free hand slamming into his thigh again and again until Jared grabs hold of it and braids their fingers together.

“Relax,” Jared whispers, smiling against his lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jensen hitches his breath. “I, I know one hundred and, and… one hundred and one ways to please a man,” he stammers. “I read the book.”

Jared can’t help laughing. He pulls away, smiling down at Jensen where he’s leaning back on the couch, chest heaving, cheeks flushed pink. His eyes are green and wide, his lips kissed wet and swollen. He’s beyond a doubt the most beautiful man Jared has ever seen in his whole life. And to think he could have had this for months if he just hadn’t been so damn stupid.

“I only know about a dozen,” he jokes, his voice a little unsteady. “Think that’s enough?”

“I can teach you the rest,” Jensen tells him and pulls him down again.

Jensen hums under his breath, silently going through the list in his head. Ten down, ninety-one to go. Although that thing Jared did with his tongue might count as two. Possibly. And he’s not sure number sixty-three is doable with someone Jared’s size. His hands are really big.

“I’m glad you’re proportional,” he tells Jared. “Even though I would still like you with a smaller penis.”

Jared laughs. “Good to know.” He’s lying on his side, head propped up on one hand, the other drawing some strange pattern on Jensen’s chest. It tickles. Jensen isn’t sure he likes it, but he keeps still anyway, because it’s Jared. “I’m pretty happy I’m proportional, too.”

“I was starting to think maybe you weren’t. That maybe that was why you kept saying no, because you thought you’d disappoint me. But if anything you’re bigger than I thought. I like it. Danneel says I’m a size queen.”

Jared’s laugh sounds a little strangled. Maybe his throat hurts from earlier. Jensen is quite proportional, too.

“I’m sorry I kept saying no,” Jared says suddenly. “I was just worried, I guess.”

Jensen tenses. “I know what I’m doing,” he says, voice tight. “I’m not deficient. I’m not… I’m not a damn kid!”

Jared’s hand stills. “I know that,” he says sharply. “Jesus, Jen, don’t you think I know that? That’s not… I wasn’t worried about that.”

He rolls over on his back, shaking his head. “Idiot,” he grumbles. Jensen tenses even further and Jared sighs. “Sorry. I didn’t mean… I’m not mad at you. I’m just… I was worried about me,” he finally admits.

Jensen frowns. “Why would you be worried about you? There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Jared is silent for a while then looks over at him. “Because I’m in love with you,” he says simply. “And I didn’t want to get my heart broken if you… if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“Oh.” Jensen frowns. “But I do feel the same way.” He turns his head, accidentally bumping Jared’s nose with his own. “I’ve been trying to tell you since I met you. You’re just really slow.”

Jared laughs a little. “Guess I am. I just thought you were horny.”

“I was. I am.” Jensen lets his hand slide down Jared’s stomach. “People can’t be horny when they’re in love?”

“Oh, they definitely can,” Jared growls and rolls them over.

Jensen ticks another three off the list.

“So, a second season?” Kristin from E! Online exclaims, batting her eyes and smiling coquettishly. “You must be so excited!”

Jared nods. “We are, we are. Well, I am. Jensen keeps asking to be killed off. Apparently he misses his beauty sleep.”

“Only because you keep me up all night,” Jensen points out.

“All part of my devious plan to make me the prettier one,” Jared says without missing a beat.

Kristin laughs that annoying laugh of hers, thankfully drowning out Jensen’s soft, “You already are.”

“So what’s in the card for Sam and Dean in the new season? Providing you don’t get killed off.”

“Oh, they don’t tell us anything,” Jared says. “I tried bribing Eric but apparently he doesn’t like blowjobs. Can I say blowjobs on TV? I meant hugs.”

Kristin is stammering something about how that’s why they use ‘bleeping’ when Jensen starts walking away, face blank. Jared grabs his shoulder and pulls him into a hug, playing the clinging monkey while quickly whispering into Jensen’s ear, “It was a stupid joke. I’m just nervous. I’m sorry.”

He can feel Jensen relax against him and breathes out. He really has to learn to control his mouth. Stupid word vomit. Jensen almost outing them on national television just messes up his whole Zen. Even if he should be used to it by now, because Jensen keeps doing this, all the time. Thankfully no one takes him seriously, apparently blatant flirting between male co-stars is all the rage in Hollywood.

Bromance, the greatest invention since sliced bread.

They escape Kristin’s clutches and continue down the red carpet, Jared’s arm slung over Jensen’s shoulders.

“You know I don’t blow anyone but you, right?” Jared asks in a low voice. “Never will.”

“I know. You just threw me. I’m not used to you lying,” Jensen murmurs.

“Joking. It was a joke. Another bad one,” he admits.

“Very bad. Worse than your fart jokes,” Jensen tells him, and Jared laughs.

“At least it didn’t smell,” he says and pretends to whisper something in Jensen’s ear to cover up the quick kiss. “Let me make it up to you when we get home,” he adds when Jensen shivers slightly.

Jensen looks thoughtful. “Okay. I want number forty-eight.”

Jared grins. “Yeah? Which one is that again?”

“Apparently you call them hugs,” Jensen says innocently, and Jared throws back his head and laughs.

They have a whole new season to look forward to. Life just couldn’t be better if it tried.

fin