It was hard to get much work/life separation when you were going home to a trailer, but Jensen at least appreciated a door between himself and the set.
Exhaustion both racked him and left him wired as he kicked off his shoes and stripped down to the first of his layers before making himself comfortable on the couch. He’d discarded his cellphone on the formica dining table where he’d also set up a portable TV with half a dozen tapes stacked at its side. He’d worn through a couple of them and was starting to lose interest in what he had left. Maybe he’d ask for some tapes to be made of the episodes they’d just filmed, giving some flimsy excuse that he wanted to review his own performance so he could really nail Dean, when he really just wanted a way to look at his co-star without him being aware of his staring.
That was also a big hurdle in Jensen’s struggle to maintain a life outside of his work: it was hard to turn his work brain off when he’d replay scenes in his head just to get himself to sleep. Work brain actively refused to be turned off when Jensen was getting turned on just thinking about Jared wetting his lips between takes, giving toothy smiles when he flubbed a take or when Jensen got him to break. It wasn’t like he could ignore that strange desire, either, not when it was such prime material to pull from when a scene called for Dean to be ungodly passionate about Sam. It was a perk, albeit one that didn’t help Jensen much outside of work.
Even now, finally alone and with no obligation to do anything but turn his brain off and rest his weary bones, he was back to thinking about Jared. Back to thinking about how often he’d catch himself looking at his lips during a tense scene and wonder how that would read to anybody watching the show who didn’t have access to the inside of his brain. To an outsider, did it look like Dean wanted to do very bad things to his own brother or not?
Jensen raked his hair out of his face and sighed. He could only hope no one else would ever catch on to his ruse, especially not the person who was the unfortunate target of his affections. But affections might not have been the right term; all he did was stare and wonder if Jared could ever reciprocate his lovesick staring.
His cell buzzed on the dining table, and Jensen gladly picked it up in hopes that he’d be given a distraction from his nightly pining. But, it seemed that irony had decided to spend the night: one new message from Jared.
So no good nite kiss?
Jensen smiled to himself in spite of his angsting and typed back a quick Nite, Jared.
He didn’t even have to wait a minute for the response: Im right next door! Just pop your head in, Im dressed this time :p
He exhaled quickly, remembering a night only a couple of weeks ago where Jensen was rewarded for his desire to be a decent person, co-star, and friend by catching Jared half-naked in his trailer. Jensen averted his eyes and apologized, and Jared laughed it off like it was just another one of their inside jokes. Normally it wouldn’t have been such a big deal, all he got was a glimpse of Jared’s—admittedly easy to look at—plumber’s crack while he was getting redressed, but it had caused the slightest bit of tension that Jensen could only hope was imperceptible to Jared.
I’m ready for bed, I’ll see you in 5 hrs.
He set his cell on his stomach, kicking his feet up on the couch and tipping his head back to get himself somewhat comfortable on such a cramped piece of furniture. It wouldn’t be restful sleep, but how often did anyone get that in a trailer?
For about ten minutes he had peace, not that much creaking and metal groaning outside as set pieces were moved, not even that much conversation fading in and out past the walls of his trailer. It almost felt like sleeping in their motel set, just with another fresh coat of wallpaper slapped onto it. If they managed to get to even five seasons, Jensen wasn’t sure how much space they’d be left to move around in with the walls closing in on them.
He hadn’t yet entered REM sleep when he felt a buzzing on his stomach—he’d already forgotten his cell, but it hadn’t forgotten him. He could groan and sigh all he wanted, but it wasn’t like he was going to wait and see what it was. Thinking on what it could be would keep him from getting his four hours, so he might as well just see what it was.
When he flipped open his mobile, he found a new message notification from Jared. He really refused to sleep without a proper goodnight?
Jensen opened their text log up, an MMS message displayed underneath his last plea for Jared to go to bed. All that he could see was a small black screen with a big play button over top of it, and he imagined that the video inside would be Jared once again begging—pouting, even—for Jensen to come see him before bed like they hadn’t been seeing each other on and off for 16 hours for the past month and a half. That didn’t mean he was going to deny himself an opportunity to see Jared playing desperate.
The video took nearly a minute to load. Jensen could scarcely see what was happening when it finally did start playing, at least for the first few seconds—he saw a light blob moving strangely, a pixelated shadow falling over it intermittently. He squinted at his tiny cellphone screen like that’d help him notice the fine details, but it was only when he pulled it back and watched to the end of the brief clip that he was able to recognize the video for what it was.
And he wasn’t sure whether he should be mortified or turned on by the sight.
Just before the video ended, the camera was craned over slightly to the left, and that was when Jensen realized exactly what kind of video he’d been sent. He hadn’t seen anything like it before, he certainly hadn’t considered doing anything like that before, but he couldn’t really be sure of that when all he could think about right now was the fact that Jared had sent him a fingerfucking video and he couldn’t get the blurry visual of his co-star’s ass out of his head now.
Even worse, when he put it on again just to get a better look at what Jared was doing—morbid curiosity had gotten the better of him—he found himself getting hard.
Obviously he wasn’t going to do anything about the video getting him hard, that’d be ridiculous, that’d put an irrevocable crack in the sidewall that was their friendship, and the metaphor was quickly getting away from him as his blood raced to his dick. A man, a man he practically considered to be his brother, shoving his fingers in and out of his own asshole shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did, and yet Jensen was considering slipping his fingers into his boxers to finish the job.
What harm would come in playing it for a third time?
This time Jensen turned the volume on, assuming whatever might come out of his cell’s tinny speakers would be absolutely unbearable but just hoping for even half of a moan to get him going. He was palming himself desperately, struggling to get a grasp on his strained cock. Halfway through the unbearably short video, Jared moaned, a sound that came out pixelated and robotic but was just enough to tide him over. He grunted softly and twisted his hand around the base of his cock, pumping shallowly on the small amount of himself he could get a grip on.
There was a small noise at the end of the video, one that Jensen didn’t recognize in the moment but one that helped get him where he needed to be. He came in his boxers and continued to stroke himself off for a few moments after that point, his head finally clear after what felt like an entire week spent overthinking. This was the peace he’d been searching for.
Jensen pulled his hand out of his boxers and got up to clean himself off, his mobile sliding off of him and onto the floor where it clattered louder than a thunderclap. He brushed his teeth for good measure, he couldn’t remember if he’d already done it before he threw himself onto the couch, and he discarded both that pair of boxers and the sticky pieces of toilet paper that were the only physical proof of Jensen’s longing. If he was fine with that kind of thing being out there, he might have signed one or two of them and posted them on eBay.
He was pulled out of his disgusting entrepreneurial fantasy by the sound of rattling echoing from outside the bathroom. Jensen fought his way out of the cramped little room and picked his cell up off the floor, a series of notifications popping up and demanding his immediate attention. Of course, they were all from Jared, but he was too zenned out to feel terrified by that fact. He couldn’t have known what Jensen just did to that video, could he?
For his sanity, he was going to say no.
Jensen slid back onto the couch and opened their texts once again, a routine that was becoming more familiar than sleep.
THAT WAS NOT MEANT FOR YOU
SERIOUSLY
DELETE IT FROM YOUR BRAIN
Oh my god im gonna get fired arent i
Jensen laughed to himself as he typed a quick No , followed by a longer, better attempt at reassurance.
I’m not gonna tell anyone. Promise.
Can you pinky promise through a cellphone?
Hold it out.
A pause.
Got it
Now shake it.
Another pause.
Did you do it or are you making me look like a bigger idiot than I already am?
I did it. That secret’s going with me to the grave.
Thanks. Seriously Jen thanks so much you dont even know.
Don’t mention it. Just go to bed, man, they’ll be on our asses tomorrow if we’re yawning through each take.
And wash your hands sometime. Please.
Jensen propped his mobile on his folded thigh and stretched his arms up above his head, fatigue hitting him like a semi. Jared’s goodnight text ended up going unread until the afternoon, and they both made good on not saying a word to each other about the video. For all anyone outside of their heads knew, nothing eventful at all had happened between Jensen and Jared last night and their friendship wasn’t ruined. They’d still joke around, roughhouse, act like their dynamic hadn’t changed in some way with that unintended exchange the previous night. Jensen just wouldn’t let Jared know that he heard him moaning his name at the tail end of the video, just before the cutoff.
That was a secret that would keep him warm for many freezing nights to come.