stungunbilly | Fnord this Entry (Reply)

A little go at a very short cwrps vignette. I've been resisting the writing, and alternately longing to write, so I compromised and scribbled a little bit of nothing during my break at work today.
If anybody feels like giving it some criticism or a nice beta, feel free. I need to practice and also get in the habit of fixing these things.

later my hands will be saying these things

by stungunbilly

if you let yourself

“This is the one I like,” says Jared, and he must have turned up the volume, because Jensen can hear it now from across the room. The song is something low and growling, something a little discordant. He shivers under the edges of the off-tones, palms a handful of clammy carrot sticks from the platter at the edge of the couch. He meets Jared’s eyes and shrugs, warmed by the glow of pleasure he sees there as Jared moves to the music. The carrots are crunchy and make his teeth feel cleaner.

“Tom Waits, Singapore” says Jared, and nothing else, dancing a little with none of his typical bounce. His movements are more fluid than usual, his eyes a little brighter. Jensen’s coming down off the E a little, but he can tell Jared is still feeling that funky sense of tranquility, at peace in his skin. The music’s eerie but sort of mesmerizing. It makes him want to take a boat across dark waters, arrive by night and lantern light in spicy-smelling markets. He can’t follow the words, because Jared’s eyes are a little hypnotic.

They’ve been telling secrets. Jared stole fifteen dollars from his Mommy when he was eight, to buy a stolen playstation from his cousin. He says he still lies awake at night with sudden pictures of her face, if she should ever find out, although he’s put far more than fifteen dollars into her purse on the sly since. Also, apparently Jared had a thing for Jessica Alba for a long time. He lied to Sandy about it, and it makes him feel sick whenever she says anything about how honest he is with her. Jensen wonders how Jared gets any sleep at night, worrying about little stuff like that.

The E is strong, and in that warm place where you know you can be yourself with somebody, just let it all hang out, Jensen maybe talked too much, because Jared’s hardly spoken a word besides playing dj since Jensen shared the bit about Michael Rosenbaum and the drunken handjob disaster. It can’t be too bad, because Jared’s eyes are still so bright, so pretty green. Nothing that color could hurt him, he thinks, knowing it’s a little crazy but comfortable all the same.

“I’m really fucking attracted to you,” says Jensen, and he isn’t at all stressed about it, though there’s a murmur inside that usually this would be a wrong step. Jared stops moving, tilts his head. Guy’s so damn tall. Jensen sits up a little from his sprawl, trying to figure out if Jared’s comfortable with him, with what he’s sharing.

“That’s… kind of cool, but also sort of freaks me out,” says Jared. He doesn’t sound upset, so Jensen just smiles a little and listens when Jared continues. “I never really thought you were into guys. And y’all are hot, but, well. I had a dream about you one time. But I just thought I was… I don’t remember,” laughing a little, “but I had some explanation. Damn.”

Jensen is warm, Jared’s couch feels like skin where he strokes it. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, slipping deeper into the cushions. It seems obvious that making out would be the most fun thing to do in the world. It’s fortunate for him that Jared agrees, or seems to. Dude comes over to the couch, at least, and kneels down, head still tilted a little like his dog does when she’s wanting food. The kiss when it comes is silky lips and soft, soft tongue. Nice.

They don’t stop.

fall backward

Awkward isn’t strong enough to describe how weird it is. Jared doesn’t know just how and why he lost his mind and thought doing drugs with co-workers was a good idea, but he trusts Jensen, is the thing. Even with the gay revelation, and the, ack, the kissing, touching, and NC-17 etcetera, Jensen’s never been anything but solid to him. The whole doing E together on a Saturday night thing was great, except for the subsequent gay experience-or, well. Except for having to tell Sandy about that, and also Jared’s not actually being gay(he thought), and the weird, weird, so-damn-weirdness whenever he looks at Jensen and gets an eyeful of suddenly-obvious mouth and hands and eyes.

Today they’re filming night scenes, and the studio is dim while Jensen battles a nasty spirit in somebody’s basement. Jensen has to be wet for a lot of this scene; the t-shirt he’s wearing now clings to his torso in a way that’s just damn unfortunate for Jared. It’s not that he’s never been curious about guys before, he thinks, or that he can’t survive a little experimentation, but when Jensen looks up and meets his eyes, Jensen’s mouth goes soft and his eyelashes flutter and that makes Jared’s stomach twist and his pulse pound in his throat. It feels as if gravity is sucking him in towards those eyes, he can’t look away. It’s not about the guilt or awkwardness, it’s about wanting Jensen again right now, in front of God and Eric Kripke.

They kissed for what seemed like forever, Jared’s couch was so comfortable and Jensen just seemed to melt around him, like nothing has ever fit his body before. Everything flowed like water running downhill, smiling eyes and soft pink mouth, Jensen laughing a little when Jared pulled his shirt off, the click of Tom Waits starting up again, bloody fingers on a purple knife, flamingo drinking from a cocktail glass, and “this is awesome music, man,” in that husky voice, half-laugh/half-moan, and when their clothes were gone it felt like dancing.

Saturday night was one of the best nights of his life.

He tears his eyes away and leaves the set before he can break anything else he values. His phone is in his hand as he heads for his trailer. Sandy’s going to forgive him for Saturday, but she’ll dump him when he tells her he won’t stop hanging out with Jensen all the time. It tears him up the way only broken friendship can, but underneath his blood is humming.

I will catch you

“So, um” says Jensen, when he opens the door. “Hey.” His hair is messy, and he’s only wearing sweats and an ancient pale blue flannel shirt that brings out the pink in his cheeks. Beautiful as anything, like he was after a night of drug-induced debauchery.

“Hey,” says Jared. “Can I come in, or, y’know, are you busy?” He can’t keep his voice from shaking, or his hands from scratching at his head, his old nemesis of a nervous tell. Jensen’s eyes follow the movement, and he coughs a little.

“I’m kind of busy, but not when it’s you,” says Jensen. The door opens wider, and Jared smiles.

It stays closed until the next morning.