Fandom Corner

Fic: Misha Collins Makes A Match - Master Post

2009-10-15T11:53:32Z

Title: Misha Collins Makes A Match
Author name: hils
Artist name: zanao
Fandom: CWRPS
Genre: Slash
Pairings: Jared/Jensen, Tom/Michael
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 31,000
Summary: Bad enough that Jensen has realised he's in love with his best friend, now he has to endure the devious matchmaking efforts of Misha Collins and all of this while he's being dragged around the country on a road trip.
Written for rpf_big_bang

Acknowledgments/Thanks:

First of all thanks to buyo105, chosenfire28 and pignapoke for hosting this challenge. It's really forced me to come out of my comfort zone to tackle something that's three times longer than anything I have ever done in the past and with an entirely new pairing for me to write to boot.

Secondly I have to thank kitty_poker1 who did a stirling job as my beta and read draft after draft as well as helping to calm me whenever I was flailing and panicking. This fic wouldn't exist without her.

Thanks to sinnerforhire for being my cheerleader throughout this process as well as fishing out any leftover Britishisms. Without your encouragement I doubt I would have even signed up for this let alone completed it. She also gets an extra special thanks for asking Misha in person whether he was a vegetarian so I could make my fic just that little bit more realistic *g*

Thanks to vichan for taking the time to help me plan out the road trip and work out where the boys were going to stop as well as providing me with loads of ideas for things they could do. It would have made for a very boring fic without her

Also thanks also to tasabian, lexalicious70 and littlehollyleaf for both answering my questions about the boys when they arose and for reading over the first draft for me. It all helped SO much.

And finally thanks to all my friends on LJ and Twitter who put up with all my whining, angsting and flailing for the three months it took me to do this. You guys are awesome!

Part One ¦ Part Two ¦ Part Three ¦ Art Master Post ¦ Soundtrack

Soundtrack: Rosenbaum's Road Trip Remix

2009-10-09T13:53:17Z

I tried to compile this using bands and artists that I know Michael is a fan of, as well as trying to pick out lyrics that fic the overall fic

Click on image to download

Art Master Post

Return to Fic Master Post

Fic: Misha Collins Makes A Match (1/3)

2009-10-08T21:56:39Z

It started off like any other day.

Jensen woke to the sound of Jared moving around downstairs and he could hear cupboards being opened and closed as Jared stomped around in the kitchen and got ready for his run. Jensen didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was still insanely early, even by the standards of their crazy schedule but Jared insisted on getting up before dawn so he could have a decent workout before they headed to the set and just laughed whenever Jensen pointed out how nuts that was.

He wished he could get mad at Jared for waking him up but opted for just cursing under his breath as he clamped his pillow over his head. Really, it was pretty much impossible to get mad at Jared. He’d just look at you with those eyes and that smile and you’d forget what had been bugging you in the first place. The sorts of people who actually got mad at Jared were the sorts of people who kicked puppies. For fun.

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut and lay as still as possible. Maybe once Jared went out he’d be able to get back to sleep. Maybe . . .

The next thing he knew the bed was dipping as Jared sat down next to him and Jensen blinked sleepily.

“Is it time to get up?”

Jared shook his head and flashed him a small smile. “No, we’ve got a while yet.”

Jensen was about to ask why Jared was disturbing his precious sleep but he froze as Jared reached out a hand and brushed it over his cheek.

“What?” Jensen asked with a shaky smile. “I got something on my face?”

“No,” Jared replied softly. “You just look so hot, all rumpled like that.”

Jensen blinked at him again, wondering if he was high or possibly still asleep. He swallowed hard. “Oh, fuck off, man. Don’t you got anything better to do than kid around when I’ve only just woken up?”

“I’m not kidding,” Jared whispered, leaning in close so that his breath tickled Jensen’s cheek. “I would never kid about this.”

Jensen turned his head slightly just as Jared closed the distance between them and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Is this okay?” Jared asked softly, sounding just slightly uncertain as he pulled back a little. Jensen simply nodded and Jared kissed him again, harder this time and plundering Jensen’s mouth with his tongue. Jensen moaned into the kiss, sinking down into the mattress as Jared trailed a hand down his chest and under the sheets.

“There you are,” Jared grinned as his hand wrapped around Jensen’s cock.

“Fuck!” Jensen arched his back and hissed as Jared started to stroke him.

Jared grinned and kissed him again. “We’ll get to that part soon.”

Jensen’s breath was coming in ragged gasps now, his whole body thrumming under Jared’s hands. Right now he wanted nothing more than to pull Jared down on the bed with him and fuck his brains out.

“JENSEN!”

His eyes snapped open at the banging sound and he frowned when he realized that not only was he alone but he was also achingly hard.

“Come on, Jensen! Roll your lazy ass out of bed! I have coffee.”

These dreams really needed to stop.

The alarm clock was beeping beside him and he’d managed to sleep through it. Great.

“Jensen, don’t make me come in there.”

God, Jensen wished he would.

“I’m up,” he groaned instead as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. The dreams and the damn early mornings were going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.

“Dude, our ride is going to be here in ten minutes,” Jared’s muffled voice came through the door. “And your coffee’s going cold.”

“Ok, ok. Gimme a minute.”

He rolled out of bed and staggered into the shower, jerking off under the hot stream of water until he came with a low groan. He quickly toweled himself off and got dressed, not bothering to fix his hair since the girls on set would change it as soon as he got there anyway.

Jared was still hovering outside his bedroom when Jensen stepped outside, flask of coffee held out like a lifeline.

“I’m awesome, I know.” Jared grinned as Jensen snatched the offered drink and gulped down the now lukewarm coffee.

Jensen simply grunted and handed the empty flask back to him.

“Come on,” Jared said with a smile as they headed downstairs together. “The car’s here. If Clif puts his foot down we won’t get our asses kicked for being late.”

“If Eric tries to kick our asses I’m just gonna hide behind you,” Jensen replied as he pulled on his coat. “Your freaky height has gotta have some uses, right?”

“Whatever, asshole. You know I’ll have no qualms about ratting you out for sleeping in.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Jensen dozed in the make-up chair while Jared chatted away in the background and flirted with the girls while they fixed his hair. It was the same as every day when they were working, and Jensen was grateful for the fact that he could rely on Jared to keep the conversation going while he rested for a bit longer. It was just something Jared did and not something they’d ever discussed. In fact, more than once Jensen had suspected Jared of having some sort of mind reading skill because the man had an uncanny knack of knowing just what people needed without them ever having to tell him.

Occasionally he wondered what things would have been like if someone else had got the role of Sam, or if he’d got the role of Sam himself when he first auditioned for it and someone else had wound up playing Dean. It was weird, and not something he let himself think about very often, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d have had this same bond with any other actor. He felt like he’d known Jared forever, in the best possible way, and he just couldn’t imagine the show getting much beyond the pilot with anyone else playing his brother.

“And then I had to tell him they were chopsticks.”

Jared’s laugh echoed through the trailer as Rosie finished some story Jensen hadn’t really been paying attention to. He cracked a smile anyway just because the sound of Jared’s laugh was so damn infectious.

“Ok, you’re done.”

Jensen groaned at the prospect of having to move from his comfortable seat out into the cold Vancouver air. He needed at least three more cups of coffee before he’d be fully awake and ready to become Dean Winchester for the day.

“Come on,” Jared grinned as he tugged Jensen to his feet. “The girls are done making you pretty. If we haul ass we can grab some more coffee on the way.”

“Coffee,” Jensen murmured appreciatively. “Coffee good.”

“I love how eloquent you are first thing in the morning. Makes for really stimulating conversation.”

Jensen groaned as he spotted Misha standing in the doorway, already in costume and with an amused smile on his face.

Jensen liked Misha a lot. He was smarter than most people Jensen knew, funny in a kind of insane way and he always had an interesting story to tell. Things were certainly never boring when Misha was around but right now it was just too damn early for Jensen to handle him. That smile on Misha’s face, which was disarming the first time you saw it in contrast to the stony faced way he played Castiel, always made Jensen feel like Misha was in on some private joke that the rest of the world was oblivious to. It was weird.

“Hey, man,” Jared greeted with a warm smile as he pulled Misha into a hug. “How was your weekend?”

Apparently, it was never too early for hugs in the book of Padalecki and Jared certainly didn’t seem to be fazed by Misha in the same way that Jensen was. It had probably never even occurred to Jared that there was anything to be fazed by in the first place. It was one of the reasons he got along so well with everyone.

Misha grinned and gave Jared a slap on the back before pulling back from the hug.

“Oh, the usual diplomatic incidents. My minions are taking care of it.”

Jensen blinked. What the hell?

“I’ve told you before, man,” Jared replied with a grin. “You gotta stop pissing off foreign leaders. Michelle Obama can only save your ass so many times.”

Jensen blinked again. He was pretty sure he was getting a headache. He needed coffee. Now.

“Come on,” Jared said, apparently using those freaky mind reading skills again. “Caffeine stop on the way to the set.”

Jensen had never heard more perfect words in his life.

Shooting was a bitch that day.

It was yet another fight between Sam and Dean while Castiel lurked in the background and did very little beyond looking soulfully at Dean and offering the occasional bit of cryptic advice. Jensen channeled his tiredness into Dean’s frustration with Sam and Castiel but by lunchtime he just wanted to crawl into bed and never come out again. Those fucking dreams about Jared were not good for his mental state or his levels of sleep.

“You look beat,” Jared said with a sympathetic smile as he slung an arm across Jensen’s shoulders and steered him towards their trailers. “Get some sleep and I’ll grab us some food and more coffee.”

“Thanks, man,” Jensen grunted, his voice hoarse with exhaustion as he stumbled up the steps. He barely made it to the bed before he collapsed face first and fell asleep.

When he woke up he couldn’t feel his right hand, his back ached and he was cold. All in all he felt worse than he had before he fell asleep, which kind of defeated the point of his nap. He sat up and winced as he realized he’d been lying on his arm and now that the blood was flowing back into his hand he had a lovely and painful dose of pins and needles. He flexed his hand a few times and swung his legs over the side of the bed, almost falling off when he spotted Misha sitting at the far end of the trailer, still in costume and watching him intently.

“Jesus, Misha,” he grumbled when his heart rate had slowed down a little. “I didn’t realize you were into the whole method acting gig.”

Misha smiled and all traces of Castiel melted away.

“Jared sent me with food. He’s asked to do some of Sam and Ruby’s scenes this afternoon so you can catch up on your beauty sleep. Clearly he doesn’t think you’re pretty enough for the rest of us.”

Jensen snorted and then smiled to himself as he thought about Jared taking on extra work just so Jensen could rest. Really, what the hell had he done to deserve having someone like Jared in his life?

He realized Misha was still staring at him and he cleared his throat.

“You said something about food?”

Misha grinned in a way that made Jensen feel more than a little uneasy and pushed a plate towards him. Damn, that man was too perceptive for his own good.

“I’ll go and tell him that you’re awake.”

Jensen tried to pretend that Misha had said ‘them’ instead of ‘him.’

Damn.

“What are you going to do over the summer?” Jared asked while they were sprawled on the couch watching TV that night. “Apart from the conventions and stuff, I mean.”

Jensen shrugged and reached for some popcorn in the bowl that was currently nestled in Jared’s lap. “I dunno. Right now I’m thinking I’m gonna sleep for at least a month.”

“Man, you are such a pussy,” Jared laughed. “Three months off and you’re gonna waste it sleeping? Lame, dude.”

“Let me guess, you’ve already got some sort of huge plan in your head that starts the day after we wrap. Seriously, how have you not collapsed from exhaustion already?”

Jared grinned and patted Jensen’s hand. “Maybe you’re just getting old.”

“Fuck off,” Jensen growled and gave Jared’s hand a slap.

“I’m just telling it like it is, man.”

The silence they fell into after that was comfortable, but Jensen made sure to shoot Jared his best fake scowl as they continued to watch the movie and he thought about Jared’s question. The truth was, he had no idea what he was going to do over the summer. He didn’t have any movies or anything lined up and, to be honest, that suited him just fine. Shooting My Bloody Valentine last summer had been fun and not exactly taxing but he’d been fucking exhausted by the time he’d got back to Vancouver because he hadn’t taken a break. He was looking forward to three months of doing very little apart from meeting some fans and signing autographs.

“I think I’ll take a vacation,” he finally announced. “A long one.”

“That sounds awesome,” Jared smiled. “Where to?”

“I dunno.”

Jensen realized that he was just a breath away from asking Jared to come with him, like they didn’t spend enough time together already. He had no idea when he’d become such a co-dependent loser but the truth was, he couldn’t imagine not having Jared around all the time like this.

He really was well and truly fucked.

The next day was better. Jensen’s hormones had decided to take a night off so there had been no dreams about Jared and he’d actually managed to get some sleep. Sam and Dean were back on speaking terms (which translated to them basically ignoring all their problems) and were working together to hunt down the evil of the week with the usual cryptic messages from Castiel.

“You were awesome today,” Jared said, huge grin plastered on his face as they headed back to their trailers for lunch.

“You didn’t do too badly yourself,” Jensen replied with a smile.

“We’re both awesome,” Jared agreed, his grin widening as he spotted Misha sitting outside Jensen’s trailer with his nose buried in the latest script. “Too bad about Misha, though.”

“Yeah.” Jensen winced as he followed Jared’s line of sight. “He sucked pretty bad today. He’s probably gonna get fired.”

“I think I heard Krip talking about replacing him with CGI.”

Misha raised an amused eyebrow as Jensen grinned at him. “You just want to get rid of me so Dean can go back to having sexual tension with his brother instead of Castiel. You have issues, man, and they run deep.”

Jared laughed. “I’m gonna go and get changed. Catch up with you guys in ten. Save me some food.”

“I’d need to invite the whole crew into my trailer if we were going to eat your share of the food,” Jensen grinned. Jared slapped him around the back of the head and laughed again before heading to his own trailer.

Jensen watched him go, a small smile curling his lips as Jared’s laughter still rang in his ears.

“How long?”

Misha’s voice cut into his thoughts and snapped him back into reality. “What?”

“How long have you been in love with Jared?”

Jensen blinked at him, blood running cold in his veins as he glanced around to see if anyone had heard. Thankfully, they were alone.

“What?” he repeated, his mind screaming deny, deny, deny even as he spoke.

“It’s all right,” Misha said softly with a sympathetic smile. “No one else has realized. I just thought maybe you’d want to talk about it.”

For a moment Jensen thought, or at least hoped, that Misha was just fucking around. There was no humor in his eyes this time though, only warmth. It made Jensen feel more than a little bit uncomfortable, like Misha was looking inside him and peering at his most personal thoughts. He realized with a sinking heart that even if he denied it there was no way Misha was going to believe him.

“Let’s go inside,” he said gruffly as he opened up his trailer and Misha quietly followed him.

“So, how long?” Misha asked once they were inside and the door was closed firmly behind them.

“I don’t know,” Jensen sighed, pacing up and down the small space in an effort to work off some of the nervous energy that was fluttering in his gut. For a moment he’d thought that maybe talking to someone about it would help. It didn’t. In fact he felt worse, like suddenly what he felt for Jared had become real instead of just some fantasy in his head.

“Are you going to tell him?”

Jensen froze mid-stride, caught by surprise and unsure whether to laugh out loud at the utter insanity of the question.

“You’ve met Jared, right? Tall guy, very much into girls.”

Misha shrugged. “No one is 100% straight. Have you noticed how much he likes to touch you?”

“That’s just Jared,” Jensen snorted. “He does that with everyone. He does it with you.”

“That’s because I’m hot,” Misha grinned. “Seriously, you should think about telling him. He might surprise you.”

“Yeah, and he might not.” Jensen replied. “Look, just drop it, ok?”

“You really think he’d treat you differently because of how you feel about him?”

“No, I don’t,” Jensen sighed. “Because it’s Jared and he’d go out of his way to make me feel like it’s no big deal. It’d be there, though, and we’d both know it even if we never mentioned it again. I like the way things are between us and I don’t want anything to fuck that up.”

“Man, I am starving.”

Jared burst into the trailer, freshly showered and changed, which put a quick stop to any further conversation between Jensen and Misha. Jensen forced a smile into place as Jared collapsed onto the couch.

“Well, no change there then,” Jensen grinned. “Come on, let’s eat before you faint from hunger and crush Misha under your epic weight.”

Once lunch was over they headed back towards the set so they could rehearse the scenes they’d be filming that afternoon. Jared patted his full stomach happily and let out a contented sigh. “That was awesome.”

“Hey, losers!” The three of them stopped walking as a new voice called out to them from the set. “Did you guys know that the security at this place sucks? They’ll let just about anyone in.”

Jared grinned. “Hey look, Jensen. It’s that guy who used to be in that Superman show. What was his name?”

“Beats me,” Jensen replied with a smile. “Haven’t seen him since he upped and left a year ago.”

Jared couldn’t hold it in any longer and he strode over and pulled Michael into a hug. “How’ve you been, Rosey?”

Michael pressed a sloppy wet kiss to Jared’s cheek and then pulled Jensen into a hug. “How’s it going, Jenny?”

“Good. How are you, Mike? Still enjoying the hair growth thing?”

“Man, you have no idea.”

They grinned at each other.

When Jensen had been working on Smallville he’d got wasted with Tom and Michael one night and told them he hated being called Jenny because it was a fucking girl's name and he was a man, goddamnit. Michael, in turn, had told them that he hated being called Mike because it was a frat boy’s name and reminded him of the jock assholes who had tormented him at school. Feeling the need to complete the circle of truth or whatever, Tom had added that he hated being called Tommy and the names had sort of stuck, but only between them and only on special occasions.

“You here to see Welling?”

Michael nodded. “You guys too, though. That’s why I’m here. I’ve got a proposition for you.”

Jared fluttered his eyelashes. “Oh, Michael. If only you’d told me sooner. We could have made sweet love in the Luthor mansion.”

Michael grinned. "It’s funny you should say that because there was this one time when me and Tom-"

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Jensen pleaded.

“Jensen’s just jealous because he hasn’t had the chance to fuck anyone in the back of the Impala yet.”

All eyes focused on Misha who smiled innocently back at them.

“I had heard that,” Michael replied with a grin. “He came up with some lame excuse that it was too cramped.”

Misha quirked a smile in Jensen’s direction. “I could help you out there. I know some great yoga positions that will make you more . . . flexible.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Well, I was going to suggest you try it out with Jared but I’m happy to oblige.”

Jensen was sure his face couldn’t turn any more red and Jared was laughing so hard Jensen thought for a moment he was going to rupture something.

“You didn’t tell me the new guy was so awesome,” Michael grinned. “I like him.”

“Oh!” Jared said, suddenly all manners and politeness just like his momma had taught him. “Sorry, man. Rosey, this is Misha. Misha, this is Michael.”

Michael shook Misha’s hand firmly. “You should totally come out with us tonight. It’ll be a riot.”

“Where are we going tonight?” Jensen asked as the blush finally started to fade from his cheeks.

“Dinner,” Michael said. “Weren’t you listening? I’ve had an awesome idea and I want you guys to be a part of it.”

Jensen raised an eyebrow. “An awesome idea like the time you decided to point out to Kristin that Lana spelled backwards was anal?”

“Hey, it’s true,” Michael shrugged. “And Tom thought it was funny.”

“I’m pretty sure he was just humoring you, dude.”

“Whatever. I know you guys think I’m hysterical. So, dinner tonight?”

“Sure,” Jared said. “I don’t think we’re doing anything, are we, Jensen?”

“Aww,” Michael cooed, ruffling Jared’s hair with a fond smile. “It’s so sweet that you guys have a joint schedule. Have you set a date for the wedding yet?”

Jared laughed as Jensen was hit with yet another wave of mortified embarrassment. Seriously, someone was out to get him today and he suspected it was Misha’s fault.

“Have you been talking to the fans again?” Jared asked. “I’ve told you before not to believe everything you read on the internet.”

“Oh,” Michael gasped with wide eyes. “You mean Misha didn’t really eat a pony?”

“No, that part is true,” Misha replied. “Security are under instructions to keep PETA away from the set in case they interrupt filming by dragging me off to their secret lair.”

“Fuckers. If you can’t eat a horse to survive an earthquake, then what can you do?”

Jensen looked from Misha to Michael to Jared who was laughing like he knew what the hell they were talking about. He wondered if the whole world had gone insane or it was just him.

“Well, I’ll let you guys get back to work,” Michael announced. “I’m gonna go harass Tom for a bit. I’ll call you later with the restaurant details.”

“I like him,” Misha said as they watched Michael walk away.

Yeah, that figured. Those two were as nutty as each other.

Jensen’s phone rang when they were in the car heading home.

“Gotham Steakhouse,” Michael announced when Jensen answered. “Can you let the new guy know? 8pm.”

“He has a name, you know that, right?” Jensen snorted. “And you always want to go to Gotham. You are such a fucking geek.”

“You love it, Jenny. I take it J-Bird is with you. Tell him not to take too long making himself pretty. I’m starving.”

He hung up before Jensen could reply.

Jared raised a quizzical eyebrow as Jensen relayed the message. “What do you think he’s got planned, anyway?”

“I have no idea,” Jensen replied with a shrug. “Just so long as he doesn’t try and make us sing karaoke again.”

“Hey, at least you can sing,” Jared pointed out. “Me and Tom had to get wasted afterwards just to forget about the whole thing.”

“Like you need an excuse to get drunk,” Jensen grinned.

“Well, so long as it doesn’t involve singing I’ll be ok. And why the hell did you tell him I take ages to get ready, anyway?”

“Dude, I tell everyone you take ages to get ready. No way I’m getting blamed when we’re always late for everything.

Jared grinned and patted Jensen’s cheek. “Well, we’re not all fortunate enough to be as naturally pretty as you.”

Jensen glowered at him.

“Sorry,” Jared corrected immediately. “I meant hot. Your hotness is all natural, and very manly. Not girly and pretty at all.”

Jensen couldn’t stop the smile from curling his lips and he wished it was easier to get mad at Jared. “Damn straight.”

“Come on,” he said as the car rolled to a stop outside their house. “We need to get ready fast before Michael goes mad from hunger and tries to eat Tom.”

“I’m pretty sure he eats him on a fairly regular basis,” Jared grinned.

“Dude!”

They were late.

It was coming up to eight thirty by the time they arrived at the restaurant, with Jared insisting it wasn’t his fault.

“We were out all day and I had to play with Harley and Sadie for a while. They miss us when we’re not around.”

Jensen hadn’t been complaining. He knew the dogs were like Jared’s kids, and it made him smile that when Jared talked like they were an ‘us’. Yeah, he was officially turning into a woman.

Misha was already there when they arrived, sitting back in his chair and looking relaxed and happy, chatting to Tom and Michael like they were old friends rather than guys he had only just met. That was just the way he was. People instantly liked Misha.

“So, we have this special timezone on set,” Misha was saying as Jared and Jensen were shown to the table. “Whenever something starts at a specific time we always tell them it’s an hour earlier just so they show up on time.”

“Which totally worked until we figured it out,” Jared grinned as Tom stood up to hug him and Jensen. “Now we just adjust our watches.”

“How very professional of you,” Tom grinned back as they all sat down. “Still, only thirty minutes late tonight. You’re getting better.”

“Let me guess,” Misha said as he handed a menu to Jared and Jensen. “It was all Jared’s fault?”

“Damn right it was,” Jensen replied, not even bothering to glance at the menu. He already knew he was having the steak and he suspected Jared would be having the same even though he was making a show of studying the choices.

Jensen wasn’t one for stereotypes most of the time, but when it came to food he was willing to make an exception. Jared was the same and it was one of the reasons they got along so well. They were both Texas boys through and through and they ate and drank like Texans.

Jensen ordered beers for them all and knew it would only be a matter of time before the tequila came out. Working tomorrow was not going to be fun but he figured they deserved to kick back and relax once in a while.

“I’ll have the steak,” Jared said when the waitress came to take their order and Jensen smiled to himself as he ordered the same.

“So, how’s unemployment treating you?” Jensen asked while they drank their beer and waited for the food to arrive. “Enjoying the quiet life or slowly going nuts?”

Michael shrugged. “Done a few things. Shot a pilot and did a couple of small parts in movies. I dunno. I’m just waiting for the right thing to come along, I guess.”

“So you don’t regret leaving?”

Jensen knew that eventually he was going to be in the same position. At some point Supernatural would end and he and Jared would have to go their separate ways and find new projects. Just thinking about it hurt a hell of a lot more than he could have imagined so most of the time he tried not to think about it at all.

Michael sighed. “Man, you saw the show. It was past time for me to leave. I miss Tom, of course, and I miss perving on you guys in the gym but it was the right decision, for sure.”

He reached over and gave Tom’s hand a squeeze. To anyone outside and even to Misha it would be seen as a friendly gesture. But Jensen knew how close they had been when they were working together, and how close they still were even now. To Jensen the gesture said ‘I’m sorry I left you. I miss you.’

“So,” Michael said after a moment, letting go of Tom’s hand and directing his attention to Misha. “How are you coping with the insane world of a cult TV show? Done your first convention yet?”

Jensen snorted. “Man, he loves it. He’s an even bigger attention whore than you.”

“You don’t exactly mind,” Misha replied with a wry grin. “Keeps some of the attention off you, right?”

He couldn’t argue with that. He had nothing against meeting the fans. After all, they wouldn’t have jobs if people didn’t like the show. He just wished they were a bit less . . . intense. It didn’t seem to bother Misha, though. He took all the questions, even the most insane and personal ones, and just ran with it, changing the subject or making a joke if it was something he didn’t want to answer. The fans were eating out of his hands already.

“We should all do one together some time,” Michael chimed in with a grin. “Tom and Jensen can hide behind the rest of us.”

“You mean I can hide behind Jared,” Tom smiled. “He’s the only one here that’s taller than me.”

The food arrived at that point and Jensen decided it was time to talk about why they were all here.

“So, what’s this plan of yours, Rosenbaum?”

The gleeful twinkle that appeared in Michael’s eyes suddenly made him feel nervous. He’d seen it before and the end result was almost always badness, like the time he’d had the idea of an all-naked episode of Smallville and stripped down to his boxers in the middle of the set to demonstrate how good Lex would look naked.

“Do you guys have anything planned for the summer?” Michael asked with a grin. “Any movies or anything?”

Jensen grinned. Funny Michael should ask so soon after the exact same conversation he’d had with Jared the night before.

“Nope,” Jared answered before Jensen could speak. “We were kind of thinking we might take a vacation.”

Jensen blinked in surprise. Since when had his hypothetical vacation become a ‘we’ event? Not that he minded. Far from it, in fact. It was just weird that Jared had just sort of assumed that he’d be coming too.

Michael grinned wolfishly at them. “You’re taking a vacation together? Are you two actually fucking now?”

“Jesus, Michael,” Tom hissed, his face flushing red though he wasn’t even the one being talked about. “We’re in a public restaurant, man.”

Michael ignored him and looked at Misha instead. “Are they fucking? Come on, you can tell me.”

Misha shot Jensen a look and he felt himself withering under it. Damn, why the hell hadn’t he just denied everything when Misha had asked him about it? He hated this.

“No,” Misha finally replied with an innocent smile. “They’re not.”

Jensen could feel the ‘but Jensen wishes they were’ hanging in the air.

“Do you fuck all the people you go on vacation with?” Jared asked with a raised eyebrow.

“At least one of them, yeah,” Michael replied with a shrug. “Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“You’re an asshole,” Tom muttered.

Nobody pointed out that his last few vacations had all been with Tom.

“So have you booked this vacation yet?” Michael asked. “Got a dream destination in mind?”

“No,” Jared and Jensen replied in unison and then grinned at each other.

Michael rolled his eyes. “You guys really do scare me. If you’re not fucking you really should be. But that’s good news about the vacation because I have the answer for you. Two words: road trip.”

“Road trip?” Jensen repeated dubiously. “Are you serious? We’re kind of old for the whole voyage of self-discovery before college thing, you know.”

“Come on, man. It’ll be awesome! We can load up my van and just take off. It only needs to be for a couple of weeks and then you can do whatever sophisticated bullshit you were thinking about after that.”

Jensen glanced at Jared and had to hold back the groan that was building in his throat. He could see just by the way Jared’s eyes were shining that he was already on board with the idea. It wasn’t that he was totally against it himself, it was just . . . well, he liked his space and his privacy and the idea of being cooped up in a van with four other guys made him feel claustrophobic.

“It does sound great,” Jared said excitedly as he jabbed Jensen in the ribs with his elbow. “Jensen, think of all the photos you’ll be able to take with your new camera. You’ve been dying to try it out somewhere out of Vancouver ever since you bought it.”

Jensen sighed. The crux of it was that no matter how dubious he was about the trip he couldn’t say no to Jared, especially when he was all bouncy like this.

“Yeah,” he finally said with a smile that was almost genuine. “It does sound fun.”

“What about you, new guy?” Michael pressed. “Wanna spend a couple of weeks getting to know your co-stars, warts and all?”

Jensen tensed in his seat. He really hoped Misha would say no, not because he didn’t like the guy but because it was going to be awkward as hell now that Misha knew. He watched as Misha’s eyes flitted between the two of them and he could almost hear him plotting as he considered his answer.

“Sure,” Misha finally shrugged. “I’ve got no plans and I love to travel.”

Jensen’s heart sank. This was going to be hell.

He felt pleasantly numb during the cab ride back to their house. Michael had insisted on breaking out the tequila to celebrate their road trip and one shot had quickly turned into several. He knew he was going to feel rough as hell in the morning but right now he didn’t care. Jared was slumped against him, warm breath tickling Jensen’s neck as Jared slumbered against his shoulder. Maybe this road trip wouldn’t be so bad after all, Jensen mused to himself. Maybe Jared was right. They’d get to see lots of interesting things, he hoped, and he’d be with Jared and some of his other friends. It’s not like they were going to be trapped in Michael’s sardine can of a van the whole time. Just while they moved from place to place.

The cab pulled to a stop and Jensen gently nudged Jared awake.

“Is it time for work?” Jared mumbled, snuggling closer and sending the blood flowing straight to Jensen’s cock.

“Not yet, buddy,” Jensen croaked as he tried to crawl out from underneath Jared. “We need to go to bed first.”

“Mmm . . . bed.”

If he didn’t know better he’d swear Jared was doing this on purpose, talking about bed in that low, sleep-husky voice of his. Jensen was amazed he was able to walk straight as he dragged Jared out of the car and into the house.

Jared was warm and heavy against him, and part of Jensen didn’t want to let go of him. It was only when they got inside that he realized that getting Jared to bed meant navigating the stairs. So not happening when Jared was barely conscious.

He considered dumping Jared on the couch, but decided it was too small for him to stretch out on. The last thing he wanted was a grumpy Jared in the morning because his limbs were all stiff as well as him being hung over. Unfortunately, that only left one option.

“Jared?”

“Mmm.”

“I’m gonna put you in my bed, ok? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Mmm.”

Jensen sighed and dragged Jared into his room, collapsing under his weight just as they reached the bed. For a moment he just lay there, winded, with Jared sprawled on top of him and drooling on his shoulder. This was in no way how he’d imagined their first time in bed together.

When he’d caught his breath and recovered from the rather painful sensation of Jared’s knee digging into his crotch, Jensen eased himself out from underneath Jared and tugged off his shoes. Jared was well and truly out for the count and did nothing but let out a small snuffling sound as Jensen arranged his limbs into a more comfortable position and tugged the comforter over him. By the time he clicked off the light, Jared was snoring softly.

Jensen wandered into the living room, carefully avoiding Harley and Sadie who were dancing around his feet and whimpering to go out. He opened the back door and stared at the couch while he waited for them to take care of business and come back inside, already imagining the discomfort he was going to be in after sleeping on it for the night.

Harley and Sadie came back inside and immediately made a beeline for Jensen’s room, clearly intending to spend the night with Jared regardless of where he was sleeping.

“Fuck it,” he muttered. If Jared was going to spend a comfortable night in Jensen’s bed with his dogs then Jensen was going to sleep in his.

He headed up the stairs, brushed his teeth and stripped down to his boxers before climbing into bed. It was kind of weird but not exactly unpleasant. He fell asleep surrounded by Jared’s scent and had a weird dream where Jared was Sleeping Beauty, he was the Prince and Misha, Tom and Michael were the three fairies.

Unfortunately, his alarm woke him before he got to actually kiss Jared.

Jensen wasn’t surprised when he got downstairs the next morning and found Harley and Sadie tapping the door to go out with no sign of Jared anywhere. He let the dogs out and let the coffee brew while he looked for some painkillers. It was eerie being the first one up. Everything felt so quiet.

His room was still in darkness when he nudged the door open, mug of coffee in one hand and Tylenol in the other. He could just about make out the shape of Jared’s body buried deep beneath the covers as he set the coffee down.

“Jared? You awake?”

The noise that came from the bed couldn’t even be described as a groan. It was like a rusty rattle muffled by the comforter and Jensen grinned. Jared’s Sasquatch nickname had never been more appropriate, judging by the noises he was making. It sounded like Chewbacca.

“Jared, I hate to break it to you but the car will be here in thirty minutes. I have coffee and Tylenol.”

“Coffee?” Jared’s voice was raspy as his head poked out from beneath the covers, hair sticking out in all directions as he peered blearily at Jensen.

Jensen pressed the mug into Jared’s grasping hands. “Pills are on the table. I’ll go get the shower running. You smell like a bar.”

“I’m gonna kill Rosenbaum,” Jared groaned as he sipped his coffee. “He always does this to me.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure you did it to yourself,” Jensen called from the bathroom as he set the shower to medium hot. “I don’t remember anyone forcing you to drink.”

He came back into the bedroom and took the empty mug from Jared, setting it down on the dresser.

“How come you’re ok?” Jared pouted as he struggled to extract himself from the covers.

“Because I’m older and can handle my liquor,” Jensen shot back with a grin.

Jared grimaced. “I hate you. Why am I in your bed anyway? Did you try and have your wicked way with me while I was drunk and defenseless?”

Jensen had never been more glad that he was an actor. “No, it’s because I wasn’t going to hurt my back hauling your heavy ass up the stairs. Now get in the shower, Padalecki. I’m not going to be late again because of you.”

“Fine,” Jared sighed as he finally managed to struggle out of bed and get to his feet. “Well, you might not have a hangover but at least Misha will be feeling as bad as I do.”

“What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?”

Misha shrugged. “I drank some water before I went to sleep and I feel fine.”

Jared whirled on Jensen and shot him an accusing glare. “Why didn’t you make me drink water last night?”

Jensen raised an eyebrow. “Make you? Dude, you were barely conscious. If I’d tried to force water down your throat you’d have probably drowned.”

“It’d be better than feeling like this,” Jared moaned pitifully. “How long before we can go home and I can die?”

“We’ve been here less than an hour.”

“Shit.”

“Don’t worry,” Jensen grinned as he slung an arm across Jared’s shoulders. “Misha and I will take care of you while you’re all fragile and delicate.”

“Absolutely,” Misha agreed. “There will be no loud noises or jostling you around at all.”

Jared groaned. “I hate you both.”

“Well, at least you’re still alive,” Jensen pointed out as they climbed into the car at the end of the day.

“No thanks to you and Misha,” Jared grumbled. “I still want to know where he managed to get firecrackers from.”

“It’s Misha. I gave up trying to figure out how or why he does anything ages ago.”

“Point.”

Jared dozed during the drive home and Jensen focused his eyes on the world outside rather than on how cute his friend looked slumped against the window with his mouth slightly open.

He really was screwed. There was no way this was ever going to end well.

“You hungry?” Jensen asked as they got inside and were pounced upon by Harley and Sadie.

“Yeah, I kind of am, actually,” Jared replied as he let the dogs out. “I think my stomach has finally recovered from last night. Are we eating real food or do you want to get takeout?”

“I’ll cook,” Jensen replied, already heading into the kitchen. “It won’t take long.”

Jared followed him into the kitchen and collapsed into one of the chairs. “Man, I can’t wait until we wrap tomorrow. I’m so not drinking at the party, by the way.”

Jensen snorted as he pulled a few ingredients out of the cupboards. “Sure you’re not. I give you an hour, tops, before Misha has you drinking the weirdest thing they’ve got.”

“You have to protect me from him. Seriously.”

Jensen made a noncommittal hum and dropped some pasta into a pan of water. “So, I was thinking we should hang out here for a few days before heading to LA to meet up with Rosey and the others. I need time to catch up on my sleep and get packed and stuff.”

“Sure,” Jared replied. “Works for me. I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Me too. Misha said he was going to fly home right after the wrap party. I guess he’s sick of living in a hotel.”

“God, I remember those days,” Jared said, face twisting into a grimace. “Buying this place was the best thing I ever did.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jensen said as he set the table. He could barely remember the days when he’d been worried about moving in with Jared because they already spent so much time together. This house felt like home now, and so did Jared and his dogs. He couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

“Want a beer with your meal?” he asked with a grin.

“Fuck off, man.”

Not surprisingly, Jared completely failed in his plan to stay sober at the wrap party, but Jensen was too buzzed and drunk himself to care or even tease him about it. It had been a hellish year of filming for all of them, even Misha who hadn’t been in all the episodes, and right now Jensen just wanted to have a few beers and relax while he looked forward to his three months off.

“So, you looking forward to doing this full-time next year?” Jensen’s beer was cold and his hand was starting to go numb from holding it. Misha was drinking some sort of bright green shit that Jensen didn’t even want to try and identify.

“Sure,” Misha shrugged. “I’m not gonna say no to steady work and you and Jared aren’t total assholes so I think it’ll be bearable.”

Jensen raised his glass in a mock toast. “Well, it’s awfully kind of you to say so.”

Misha just grinned and drained his glass. “So, where’s the gigantic object of your gigantic crush? I get so confused when I don’t see you together, considering it only happens about once a month.”

Jensen glanced over his shoulder, easily spotting Jared towering over the rest of the crowd. He was chatting to one of the cameramen and laughing at whatever he was saying, thankfully far enough away to be out of earshot of this conversation.

“We’re not conjoined twins or anything,” he grumbled.

“You might as well be,” Misha replied. “How the hell he hasn’t realized that you want to fuck him is beyond me.”

“Classy, Collins. Can we not talk about this now, please? Or ever again, for that matter.”

“I’ve already told you he won’t hear it from me,” Misha said. “I just think maybe if you told him it wouldn’t be as bad as you think.”

Jensen sighed and drained his beer. “Look, I’ve told you before. Jared’s straight. In fact I’m pretty sure he’s flirting with Gen right now. I’m not going to screw up our friendship because of some stupid fucked up crush, ok?”

“Sure, ok. End of conversation. You want another drink?”

“Yeah,” Jensen replied. “Something strong.”

Before Misha could stand up, Jared bounded over and collapsed into the seat next to Jensen.

“Heeeey,” he slurred, resting his head on Jensen’s shoulder. “What are you guys talking about, tucked away in the corner over here?”

“Nothing,” Jensen replied quickly just as Misha said exactly the same thing. Way to not sound suspicious.

Jared sat up and looked between them with a frown.

“I was just getting Jensen a drink,” Misha said smoothly, easing out of his seat and motioning to the bar. “You want one?”

“Sure,” Jared replied, the frown melting from his face and a lazy grin settling on his face. “I’ll have whatever Jensen’s having.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me? Be right back.”

“He’s weird,” Jared murmured as Misha disappeared in the crowd.

His head dropped back onto Jensen’s shoulder and Jensen couldn’t stop himself from ruffling his hair. “Yeah, well, so are you.”

“Hey, I’m adorable and you know it.”

Jensen smiled softly and dropped his hand. The last thing he needed was to be seen openly petting Jared like a dog at their own wrap party, and he certainly didn’t need a hard on while Jared snuggled up to him.

Luckily, Misha chose that exact moment to come back, armed with two shots of tequila and a glass of something blue which looked even worse than the green stuff he’d been drinking earlier.

“Dude,” Jared groaned when he saw the drinks. “I’m still recovering from the last tequila session. Are you trying to kill me?” He pushed his glass towards Jensen. “You drink mine.”

“I can get you something else if you want,” Misha offered.

“Nah, I’m good. Should probably stop now anyway.”

Jensen shrugged and knocked back both shots one after the other. Jared grinned and clapped him on the back. “You can take the guy out of Texas but you can’t take Texas out of the guy.”

Jensen grinned back, enjoying the way the booze burned his throat and warmed his stomach. It didn’t hurt that Jared’s hand stayed resting on his back either.

“So, I’m flying back to LA tomorrow,” Misha said, and shot Jensen an annoyingly smug look when he noticed where Jared’s hand was resting. “Gonna hang out for a few days and then head over to Michael’s.”

“We’re gonna fly over the day before we leave,” Jared said. “Rosey has said we can crash at his place the night before.”

“Does anyone even know where we’re going?” Jensen asked curiously. “I talked to Tom and he said it’s all planned out but he doesn’t know the schedule.”

“It’s Michael,” Jared sighed. “You know how he loves surprises.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I’m afraid of.”

They spent most of the next day sleeping.

“Damn, that felt good,” Jensen moaned when he eventually staggered out of bed at lunchtime and wandered into the kitchen. Jared was eating breakfast, or maybe lunch. “How long have you been up?”

“About twenty minutes,” Jared grinned. “I love not having to go to work.”

“Me too,” Jensen replied as he stole a piece of toast from Jared’s plate. “Remind me why we took this job again?”

“Because, despite the hellish working hours, it’s an awesome job.”

“Oh, yeah. Now I remember.”

Jared slapped Jensen’s wrist when he made a beeline for a piece of bacon. “So, since we’re not flying to LA for another couple of days, what do you want to do?”

“Go back to bed?” Jensen suggested.

Jared rolled his eyes and handed Jensen his own plate of breakfast. “I was thinking maybe we could go out somewhere with Harley and Sadie. Enjoy some fresh air, you know.”

“Man, fresh air is overrated.” Jensen replied as he tucked into his food. “I just wanna sleep. Maybe watch a DVD or something while I’m sleeping.”

“While you’re sleeping?” Jared laughed.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen every movie we own about twenty times,” Jensen pointed out.

“Come on, let’s go out for a couple of hours and then we can get takeout and I’ll kick your ass at Guitar Hero.”

And Jensen never could say no to Jared, especially when he looked at him with that hopeful smile of his. “Sure, ok. But only if we go somewhere where I can take photos.”

Jared grinned. “I know just the place.”

Jensen had his camera out as soon as they got into the entrance of Stanley Park, snapping a photo of the statue of Robert Burns that loomed above them. Amusingly, there was a bird perched on the statue’s head and Jensen had to wonder what sort of poem Burns would have written about that if he’d still been alive.

Harley and Sadie were in their element, chasing each other around Jared’s legs and barking impatiently because the humans weren’t walking. Jensen had to snap a picture of the huge grin on Jared’s face before they set off down the trail.

“Still think fresh air is overrated?” Jared asked as they walked through the forest, Harley and Sadie darting among the trees and stopping every few minutes to investigate a new smell.

Jensen grinned and jabbed Jared in the ribs with his elbow.

“Does that translate to ‘yes, Jared, you were right. Thanks for bringing me on this awesome day out’?”

“Something like that,” Jensen replied.

“You think Rosenbaum has anything like this planned for us?” Jared asked as they walked, arms occasionally brushing against each other.

“I dunno.”

He hoped so, though.

They spent the next couple of days chilling out at home and packing ready for their trip. By Monday night Jensen actually felt like he’d caught up on all the sleep he’d missed while they were filming and was actually sort of looking forward to going away.

One of the guys on set had offered to take Harley and Sadie in while they were gone, a fact that had made Jared happy. He hated the idea of leaving his babies with a stranger and Bob had a couple of dogs of his own who seemed to get along with Harley and Sadie so it all worked out ok. The dogs were kind of getting their own vacation out of it.

“I’m gonna miss them,” Jared said softly once Bob had picked them up with assurances that they would be spoiled rotten over the next couple of weeks.

“I know, man,” Jensen replied. There wasn’t really anything else he could say.

Their flight was early the next morning so they spent a quiet evening watching TV and finishing their packing. They still didn’t know where they were going on this trip, and when Jensen had asked Michael he’d just been told to pack a bit of everything.

So not helpful.

“I bet he’s gonna have us go skydiving or something,” Jared suggested over dinner. “Ooh, or maybe we’ll do a safari. That’d be awesome.”

“Come on, man, it’s Rosenbaum,” Jensen grinned. “He’ll probably have us hitting every town that’s got a dirty sounding name so we can collect shot glasses.”

Jared snorted. “Awesome.”

“There’s a place in North Carolina called Horneytown. I gotta say, I’m curious.”

“Aww! You feeling horny, Jensen?” Jared asked with mock concern. “You should have said something, man. I know plenty of girls who would be willing.”

Jensen didn’t like the way this conversation was going so he decided to end it the way he always did when a change of subject was needed. “Fuck you, dude.”

Jared laughed and said, “Come on, we should go to bed. We have to be up in six hours to make our flight.”

He hated the way Jared said ‘let’s go to bed’ every night. Because for one fleeting moment he imagined them going upstairs together, hot bodies wrapping around each other as they fucked slowly before falling asleep.

Instead he went to bed alone and jerked off to the image.

“Why the hell didn’t we choose a later flight?” Jensen growled the next morning when he was up too damn early. It wasn’t even light outside yet.

Jared handed him a mug of coffee and patted his shoulder. “You can sleep on the plane. It’s a three hour flight.”

“Not long enough,” Jensen grumbled.

“Rosey called while you were in the shower,” Jared said as he handed Jensen a plate of pancakes. “He’s gonna meet us at the airport. Misha arrived at his place last night.”

Jensen tried not to think about the conversations they might have had over drinks. Fuck, why the hell hadn’t he just lied to Misha? So damn stupid.

“You ok?” Jared asked, cutting into his thoughts. “You kinda zoned out there.”

“Yeah, man,” Jensen smiled. “Just tired, you know.”

“Well, you need to eat up,” Jared replied. “Cab’s gonna be here in ten minutes. I’ll round up our stuff.”

Okay, so maybe this trip was going to be tougher than he thought.

Jared elbowed Jensen in the ribs as they were coming down the escalator at LAX and pointed. Michael had obviously attempted to disguise his appearance by wearing a New York Rangers cap and he was holding up a sign that read ‘Jason Teague and Dean Forester’.

Jensen sighed. This was going to be a long two weeks.

“Uh oh,” Michael said when they reached him and he saw the glare on Jensen’s face. “Looks like Jenny didn’t get enough beauty sleep last night.”

Jared grinned and wrapped an arm around Jensen’s shoulders, which did little to relieve the tension he was feeling. “You know he needs at least twelve hours a night. Guy picked totally the wrong line of work.”

“Can we stop talking and get coffee?” Jensen asked, resisting the temptation to lean into Jared. “Then you can mock me all you want.”

“Is that a promise?” Michael asked with a grin. “Come on, my car’s out front and we can hit Starbucks on the way to my place.”

Jensen did feel better once he’d had another injection of caffeine. Well enough to mock Michael for knowing the name of Jared’s Gilmore Girls character.

“You watched it, man, I know you did. Bet you had a thing for Lorelai.”

“Hell, no. It was Luke all the way for me,” Michael shot back as they pulled into his driveway. “Hey, lemme show you the van before we go inside. It’s awesome.”

The van in question was a white BMW and it was obvious from the way Michael’s eyes shone that it was his pride and joy.

“Check this out!” Michael said excitedly as he pressed a button on his keychain. The van’s alarm beeped three times as it disabled and then the engine started.

“And wait until you see the inside,” he said without waiting for any sort of reaction from Jared and Jensen. He slid open the side door and stepped back so they could see inside.

There was a set of furry dice hanging from the mirror, the seats were all lined with cream leather and a flat screen TV was mounted in the back.

“Dude, did you go on Pimp My Ride without telling anyone?” Jensen asked with a raised eyebrow as he took in the interior.

“No, man, this is all my own work. Didn’t I tell you it was awesome?”

He pressed a switch and strobe lights started to flash as he beamed at them.

Jared was now looking more than a little concerned. “Are you sure the five us are gonna fit in there? None of us are exactly small.”

“Apart from Misha,” Jensen added with a grin.

“Dude, he’s like an inch shorter than you.” Jared snorted.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I’m used to being dwarfed by your gigantic body. Misha probably feels like a munchkin standing next to you.”

“Whatever.”

“There’s plenty of room,” Michael chimed in. “Now let’s go and dump your stuff in the spare room and we can crack open the beers.”

Spare room? Singular? Oh, this was not good.

The bed stood out in the fairly bare room and the first thing Jensen thought was that it was nowhere near big enough. It was a king, but as Jared had pointed out, they weren’t exactly small guys. There was no way they were going to be able to avoid touching and if one of them rolled over in his sleep . . .

“Come on,” Michael said, giving Jensen a hearty slap on the back and jarring him out of his rather alarming thoughts. “Tom and Misha have already opened the beers. We’ve got some catching up to do.”

Jensen sighed and nodded. “Right.”

Apparently Tom and Misha had decided to settle for the afternoon in Michael’s entertainment room. Jensen couldn’t help but be impressed by the sheer amount of geeky stuff in there. There was an actual lightsaber hanging on the wall, an old games console in one corner of the room and a karaoke machine in the centre of it all. Michael’s love of karaoke had been the subject of many stories while Jensen had worked on Smallville. Thankfully he’d managed to avoid having to sing anything so far but he was suddenly painfully aware that his luck might have run out.

“Hey, you made it!” Tom waved a half empty beer bottle in their general direction but didn’t make any effort to get up from the couch

Misha grinned at them from a bean bag on the floor and also made no effort to get up.

“How was the flight?”

“Slept through most of it,” Jensen shrugged, accepting a cold beer from Michael and flopping down on the couch next to Tom.

“It was hilarious,” Jared laughed as he took a bean bag next to Misha. “He was snoring and there was so much drool I thought the stewardess was going to kick him out in the middle of the flight.”

“Fuck you,” Jensen grumbled. “I don’t snore.”

Jared grinned. “I guess we’ll find out tonight.”

“What?” Misha asked, blinking innocently at him. “You guys have never shared a room before in the whole time you’ve known each other?”

“Why would we?” Jensen replied, hoping his tone didn’t sound as snappy as he was feeling. Why the hell couldn’t Misha leave things alone? “We have our own trailers on set and they always put us in separate hotel rooms when we go anywhere.”

“Me and Tom used to crash in the same room all the time when we were working together,” Michael chimed in, and Jensen really wanted to kill everyone now.

“Only because you’d come into my room, drink the mini-bar dry and then pass out in my bed,” Tom pointed out.

Ok, Tom was on the safe list and so was Jared, but the other two were dead men.

“Oh, I’ve done that before,” Jared laughed. “Jensen just took my key and slept in my room.”

“Yeah, because you were sprawled out so much there was no room for me in the bed.”

Jensen decided the subject needed changing. Right now.

“So, Rosenbaum, what’s the plan for this trip of yours? Do we actually get to know where we’re going now?”

“Nope,” Michael replied with a grin. “Come on, it’s more fun this way. Just relax, have a few beers and all will be revealed in the morning.”

Jensen sighed. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

Part two

Fic: Misha Collins Makes A Match (2/3)

2009-10-08T21:54:17Z

“Jenny! I think you need to sing for us.”

Michael swayed on his feet, eyes glazed as he pointed the karaoke microphone in Jensen’s direction.

“No, I really don’t.”

“Come on, man,” Michael pleaded. “You’re the only one of us who can actually sing. I’ll let you choose the song.”

Tom snorted beside Jensen. “This is the only time he’s ever admitted he can’t actually sing. You should make the most of it.”

“Nope,” Jensen replied. He’d lost count of the number of beers he’d had but he was still sober enough to know that he wasn’t going to sing. It was different when he was with Christian and Steve. He didn’t know why but it was.

Michael was actually pouting now. “You’re no fun. I hope you’re not going to be like this the whole trip.”

“Whatever, man. I’m beat and I’m going to bed.”

Jared struggled to his feet, handing his empty bottle to Misha before lurching towards Jensen. “I’ll come too.”

“Lightweights,” Misha smiled. “The night is young, right, guys?”

Tom’s only reply was a soft snore from the couch.

“I’m still with you, buddy,” Michael announced as he collapsed into the bean bag that Jared had vacated. “We’re the party guys.”

Jensen rolled his eyes and headed up to the bedroom. Somehow he doubted that the party guys would be awake for much longer, and he didn’t want to even think about whether Michael would be in a fit state to drive in the morning.

“You want the bathroom first?” he asked when they reached the bedroom, the large bed reminding him again of the awkward sleeping arrangements.

“Nah, you go,” Jared relied, sitting down on the end of the bed and looking up at the Justice League print that hung above him on the wall. “I’m just gonna . . . sit.”

Jensen shrugged. “Ok, man. Whatever makes you happy.”

It didn’t take him long to find the bathroom and he was surprised at how small it was compared to the other rooms in the house. It was typically Michael, though. There was a Rubix cube (unsolved) on the back of the toilet and a pile of porn magazines under the sink. Playboy and Playgirl, Jensen noticed with a wry grin. Michael was never one to let himself be confined to sexuality labels. He liked who he liked and that was it. Mostly it was Tom these days but that didn’t stop him letting his eyes wander once in a while.

He got washed up and changed into a pair of pajama bottoms before he padded barefoot back into the bedroom. He couldn’t help but smile. Apparently sitting had been too much effort for Jared and he was now sprawled on the bed with his feet still hanging over the edge.

“You awake?” Jensen asked as he put his clothes back into his bag.

“Mmm,” Jared murmured, twisting away when Jensen shook his shoulder.

“Come on, bathroom’s free. Move your ass so I can go to bed.”

“’Kay,” Jared groaned and struggled to his feet.

As his friend wandered to the bathroom Jensen slid into bed, making sure to be as far on his side as possible without making it too obvious. He lay there staring at the ceiling and wondering just when his life got so fucked up. He liked things to be simple and uncomplicated. Being in love with your best friend was so far from simple it actually hurt.

He didn’t realize Jared was back in the room until the light snapped off and he felt the bed dip. He lay there, stiff and awkward as he listened to Jared twisting around and hitting the pillow in an effort to get comfortable.

“Jensen?” Jared’s voice was muffled, as though his face was pressed into the pillow.

“Yeah?”

“Goodnight.”

Jensen sighed as Jared started to snore softly. “’Night, Jared.”

When Jensen woke up the next morning he was warm and comfortable and there was no way in hell he wanted to get up, ever. Until he heard a soft chuckle.

“You two look cozy.”

His eyes snapped open and he almost fell off the bed when he saw Misha grinning down at him from the loft.

“Jesus Christ! What the hell are you doing up there?”

If anything, the question just made Misha’s grin wider. “The other bed is up here. Didn’t Michael tell you?”

Other bed? There was another bed and no one bothered to tell him? Oh, he was going to kill someone. Probably Misha.

“I just figured you knew but you wanted to share with Jared.”

Definitely Misha.

“He doesn’t seem to mind anyway.”

It was only then that he realized half the reason he was so warm and comfortable was because he was wrapped up in Jared’s arms and pulled flush against his chest. Jared was one of the most touchy-feely guys Jensen knew. It figured he’d be the same when he was asleep. It sure as hell didn’t mean anything.

He slowly started to ease himself out of Jared’s grasp and naturally that was when Jared decided to wake up.

“Morning,” he rasped in Jensen’s ear before letting go of him. “Sorry about that. I must have got cold in the night. Hope I didn’t crush you or anything.”

Jensen leapt out of bed as soon as he was free, trying to make it look as casual as possible but all the while feeling Misha’s eyes on him as he grabbed some clean clothes.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m gonna go shower.”

And he practically bolted from the room before anyone could see how hard he was.

One very long, cold shower and a jerk off later and Jensen felt ready to face the world again. Or almost. He still needed his coffee and headed straight to the kitchen while Jared and Misha decided who was going to shower next. He was surprised to see Tom and Michael already awake.

“Someone else is going to have to drive,” Michael moaned unhappily while Jensen poured himself a coffee. “I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying,” Tom scoffed. “Take some Tylenol, drink some water and suck it up. Besides, you have to drive. You’re the only one who knows where we’re going.”

“Man, sometimes my plans suck.”

Tom pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m glad you’ve finally accepted that.”

Jared stumbled into the room a few minutes later, face flushed and hair still damp from his shower. “Misha says he’ll be ready in ten minutes but we should go ahead and eat breakfast.”

“That’s a plan I’m not gonna argue with,” Jensen replied. “You gonna cook for your guests, Rosenbaum, or are we eating out?”

“I’m not cooking in my delicate condition. We’ll hit the road as soon as Collins is ready.”

After a brief stop to fill up on pancakes and coffee they were on their way, Michael behind the wheel with Tom riding shotgun and Jared, Jensen and Misha in the back. Michael had been right and the van was actually pretty spacious. Jensen could feel himself drifting back to sleep, lulled by the smooth sound of the vehicle’s engine.

“It’s gonna take us about six hours to reach our first stop,” Michael said, jarring Jensen out of his doze. “Who wants some music?”

Before anyone could object, the sound of Lionel Richie filled the van.

“Dude,” Jensen groaned, burying his head in Misha’s shoulder.

“Hey, a wise man once said ‘driver picks the music, everyone else shuts their cakehole.’”

That just made Jensen groan again. “I can’t believe you’re quoting my own show at me. Actually, I can’t believe you watched it.”

“I only saw that one episode. Had to see if what you’d left us for was worth it.”

“Was it?” Jared asked with a faint smile.

“Totally.”

Jensen kept his head on Misha’s shoulder, deciding it was more comfortable than leaning against the window. Eventually he was able to block out the sound of the music and fall asleep

“Do you know the way to San Jose? I'm going back to find some peace of mind in San Jose.”

Jensen woke up to the sound of Michael singing along to Dionne Warwick and let out a long sigh before stretching. His neck was stiff from where he’d been sleeping on Misha and he was slightly embarrassed to see a patch of drool on Misha’s shirt.

“I’ll send you the laundry bill,” Misha said with a grin as he rolled his shoulder. “Did you have a nice nap at least?”

“Yeah,” Jensen replied, glancing out of the window to see they were still in the middle of nowhere. “Are we nearly there?”

“Not yet, children,” Michael’s voice piped up from the front. “We’re still a couple of hours out. You could play a fun game of I-Spy if you’re bored.”

“I spy with my little eye something beginning with J,” Jensen said in a sing-song voice.

“Jackass,” Jared replied immediately.

“Good call,” Jensen said with a grin.

“You two really do spend way too much time together,” Tom observed, and that was enough to make Jensen fall quiet again.

“Well, if the singing wasn’t enough to give it away I think it’s pretty obvious where we’re going first,” Jared said, breaking the silence.

The sign for San Jose flashed by.

Well, there were certainly worse places to start a road trip, Jensen mused to himself.

“Just because you know where we’re going doesn’t mean you know the awesome things I have planned for us to do.”

Jensen could practically hear the grin in Michael’s voice and that did not bode well.

“Just tell me it has nothing to do with porn.”

Michael cackled. “Not everything is about porn, Jenny. You need to get your head out of the gutter.”

“Hey, it’s only there because you put it there,” Jensen shot back. “I was an innocent until I met you.”

“I think Christian would have a thing or two to say about that,” Jared said.

Jensen flipped him off.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

He could hear Jared howling with laughter behind him as Michael grinned and patted him on the shoulder.

“Come on, man. It’s perfect. I can’t believe you guys have never been here before.”

“Yeah, because I don’t like to take my work home with me, you freak,” Jensen snapped, but there was already a smile curling on his lips, which he blamed on the sound of Jared’s laughter.

They stood in the car park of The Winchester Mystery House for a few minutes while Jensen got his camera out and took a few photos of the facade. House was an understatement really. It was a mansion.

“Are we just gonna stand here or are we actually going to go inside?”

Jensen grinned and slipped his camera strap around his neck as Jared practically bounced with excitement beside him.

“Wow, you’re really into this, aren’t you?”

“Are you kidding? It’s awesome!”

“See? I’m glad someone appreciates my efforts,” Michael grumbled as they walked towards the entrance.

They paid the fee and picked up a brochure on the way in. Misha then took it upon himself to act as tour guide and tell them about the house as they walked around.

“According to this, Sarah Winchester consulted a medium after her daughter and husband both died. The medium told her that her family was cursed because the guns they made had taken so many lives and the spirits wanted vengeance.”

Jensen grinned. “Dude, that sounds like something straight from an episode of the show.”

“That’s a hell of a lot of corpses to salt and burn,” Jensen replied with a snort. “We’ll have to mention it to Krip. We could drag that story out for a whole season.”

“This is so cool!” Jared exclaimed happily as they walked around the house. “It’s an actual haunted house.”

Jensen smiled and took a few discreet photos of Jared excitedly pointing at the various hidden doors and windows they were finding as they explored. The house was certainly impressive but Jensen had to wonder whether the grief of losing her family had sent Sarah Winchester insane. There were stairs that led to nowhere, windows in the floor, doors in places it was impossible to reach and, his favorite, a cabinet that opened into a another room. It was almost like looking into Narnia.

The gardens were no less impressive, filled with dozens of different kinds of flowers, trees and shrubs. The air was thick with the scent from the flowers and Jensen breathed deep, soaking up the sun as they walked around.

“Ok, that’s just weird,” Michael said, bringing their group to a halt in front of a topiary that had been cut into the shape of the number thirteen.

“Sarah Winchester was obsessed with the number thirteen,” Misha said, resuming his role of tour guide. “One of the chandeliers in the house was imported and then modified so it would hold thirteen candles, and all the wall clothes hooks are in multiples of thirteen. When Sarah died she left the whole place to her cousin Marian Marriot because M is the thirteenth letter of the alphabet and her name had thirteen letters.”

Jensen shook his head. Grief had definitely sent the woman insane.

“It’s kind of sad,” Tom said softly. “That medium played on her guilt and got her to spend the last forty years of her life living in fear of some curse that didn’t exist.”

Jensen hadn’t really thought about it like that, and he considered how he would feel if he lost the people he loved most, glancing at Jared and trying to imagine a life without him in it. Yeah, he could suddenly understand Sarah Winchester a whole lot better.

They stood there for a few minutes in silence, Michael slipping his hand into Tom’s and Jensen aching to do the same to Jared.

“Come on,” Michael finally said, clearing his throat to break the silence. “Let’s go and eat before we hit the road again.”

“I’m telling you we’ll save time if we go through San Fran. Maybe we can stop while we’re there.”

Tom sighed. “I’m not saying we can’t go. I’m just saying that the traffic will be hell and if there’s nothing for us to see there it’ll make more sense to go around.”

Jared, Jensen and Misha tried hard to ignore the conversation in the front that was rapidly heading towards an argument.

“It’s not like we’re in a rush or anything,” Michael pointed out. “Come on, Tommy, relax.”

“Don’t call me Tommy. You know I hate it.”

“Fine, whatever. Who wants some music?”

He switched on the stereo before anyone had the chance to express an opinion either way and the van was filled with the sounds of Chicago.

Apart from the music they drove in silence for a while, save for Tom sighing when Michael headed into the city instead of going around it.

Twenty minutes later, they were stuck in traffic. To his credit Tom didn’t gloat, but then Jensen couldn’t see his face from where he was sitting. Possibly he was looking smug without having to say it.

“Welcome to San Fran, everyone,” Michael said with false cheer and he started to sing If You’re Going To San Francisco.

They were moving, just incredibly slowly, and Tom sighed as they were overtaken by several people on bikes.

“Forty thousand people in San Francisco cycle to work every day,” Misha said as he peered out of the window over Jensen’s shoulder.

Jared grinned. “And I thought Jensen was a geek for knowing random shit like that.”

“Fuck you, man,” Jensen replied with a smile, desperate to break the tension a little. “I am a fount of knowledge. You’d be lost without me around to answer all your dumbass questions.”

Tom twisted around in his seat and grinned back at them. “Rosey once asked me if you mated a bulldog and a shitsu, would it be called a bullshit?”

Jared howled with laughter while Jensen groaned and buried his head in his hands.

“I thought it was a perfectly valid question,” Michael offered and Jensen could hear the smile in his voice now that everyone was laughing again.

“I think we should stop pretty soon and get a hotel for the night,” Michael said, and there were murmurs of assent from everyone else.

They got as far as Richmond and decided to call it a day, checking into the first hotel they came across that didn’t look like a total hole. By the time they’d checked in, showered, changed and headed down to the restaurant, Tom and Michael were holding hands again and all was right with the world.

“So, where are we heading tomorrow?” Jared asked while they ate.

“What? And ruin the surprise?” Michael grinned. “You’ll just have to wait and see. I promise no more traffic jams, though. I’ve made Tom navigator.”

“Wait. So now Tom knows where we’re going and we don’t?” Jensen asked.

“Come on, Jensen. Live a little. It’s kind of exciting not knowing where we’re going to end up.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“Maybe one day something will surprise you that you actually like,” Misha volunteered with a smile, taking Jensen back to their conversation about Jared. He’d been doing so well at not thinking about it, too.

“I doubt it.”

He seriously hoped that would be the end of the matter, but the sly look in Misha’s eyes told him this was far from over.

Crap.

The next day they hit the road straight after breakfast and drove solidly for five hours until they hit the first stop of the day.

“We’re here!” Michael exclaimed gleefully as they all got out of the car to stretch their legs. Jared in particular let out a moan of pleasure as he walked up and down to ease the kinks out of his knees. Jensen figured being stuck in the van for hours at a time must be worse for him, being taller than the rest of them. It wasn’t particularly cramped inside but there wasn’t a huge amount of space to move, especially for Jared.

“You ok?” he asked gently as Jared walked past him.

Jared nodded his head and then grinned. “I wouldn’t say no to one of your expert massages right now. My legs and back are killing me.”

“Don’t be such a pussy, Padalecki,” Michael crowed. “Come on, let’s go and explore.”

Jensen smiled and placed a hand on the small of Jared’s back. “If you’re still hurting when we stop at the hotel tonight I’ll sort you out, ok?”

“Awesome. Thanks, man.”

Jensen deliberately didn’t make eye contact with Misha. He could already feel those blue eyes boring into the back of his head.

Bandon was most famous for storm watching. Unfortunately, the skies were blue and there was barely any wind so they decided to take a walk along the beach before looking for somewhere to eat lunch.

Jensen turned when he heard Michael yell and laughed softly. Tom had thrown Michael over one shoulder and was threatening to drop him in the surf. Michael then decided to distract Tom from his quest by spanking his ass, and it seemed to be working.

Misha was up ahead exploring and poking around in various rock pools, which left Jensen alone with Jared for the first time since they’d left.

It was nice.

“Harley and Sadie would love it here,” Jared said as they walked.

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed. “Do you miss them?”

“A little,” Jared said softly. “But I’m glad we’re doing this. It’s fun. Nice to just get away from everything, you know?”

Jensen nodded. They really needed a break after intense levels of filming over the past few months.

“What about you?” Jared asked. “Are you glad we came? You didn’t seem too happy about the idea at first.”

Jensen glanced up at Jared, all windswept and tanned and smiling.

“Yeah, I’m glad we came.”

Jensen took a deep breath, exhaled and smiled as the fresh clean air filled his lungs. They’d made it to Olympic National Park just as the sun was setting and now that they were here he wasn’t sure he’d be able to make himself leave. Everything was so peaceful. He could hear the sound of the water lapping against the lake shore, the insects were chirping and the wind was rustling gently in the trees. Really, he could just close his eyes and sleep on his feet listening to the sounds of nature.

“Camping?” Jared yelped, breaking the silence and making Jensen frown. “In a tent? Dude, it’s cold! And there’s some lovely cabins over there that we could stay in where it’s not cold and I can sleep in a proper bed.”

“Don’t be such a wimp,” Michael replied, already in the process of erecting one tent. The other was still in its bag at Jared’s feet. “Come on, you want to experience the great outdoors, don’t you? This is the best way to do it.”

Misha wandered over from wherever he’d been exploring and started putting together the second tent. “Actually, if you really wanted to experience the great outdoors we’d be sleeping under a tree behind a shelter made out of fallen branches. I did that once and it was pretty awesome.”

He grinned when he realized everyone was staring at him. “I’m just saying.”

Jared was smiling now and he crouched down to help Misha assemble the tent. “Man, you really missed out not being around in the sixties, didn’t you?”

Jensen snapped a quick photo of Misha and Jared working on the tent and then wandered over to join them. “I’d offer to help but you guys look like you’ve got it covered.”

“You could go and get some water,” Tom suggested. “Since you’re clearly bored. There’s a faucet over near the cabins for clean drinking water and a water tank in the back of the van.”

Jensen was starting to regret opening his mouth but he put his camera away and got the tank out of the van. Luckily, it wasn’t too far to walk because by the time he’d filled it with water it was damned heavy.

“Next time we camp I’m putting myself on tent building duty,” he grunted as he set the water down.

“You need to work out more,” Jared grinned, flexing his muscles for effect, which left Jensen’s mouth dry.

“I’ve told you before, not all of us are crazy enough to get up before sunrise to get all hot and sweaty before going to work for sixteen hours.”

“I’m with Jensen,” Misha agreed. He sorted through the tent poles until he found the one he was looking for. “I can think of much more fun ways of getting hot and sweaty. None of them involve a gym.”

“Man, I miss my gym,” Jared mourned, totally ignoring the obscene way in which Misha was fondling the pole to demonstrate what he’d been talking about in case anyone hadn’t figured it out.

“I could teach you some yoga in the morning,” Misha offered. “I know it’s not the same as an intense workout but it’ll help with those cramped muscles from sitting in the van.”

“Awesome!” Jared’s face lit up and Jensen had to swallow back the completely irrational flare of jealousy that the smile wasn’t being directed at him.

“I’ll wake you up in the morning,” Misha promised.

“Not too early, I hope,” Jensen grumbled. “Some of us are on vacation.”

“Aww! You don’t want to get all bendy and stretchy with us?” Misha asked with a smirk that seemed far too dirty for Jensen’s liking. “You’ll be amazed at the positions I’ll be able to get Jared into.”

Jared laughed and cuffed Misha around the back of the head. “Shut up, dude. You’re making Jensen blush.”

Blush was an understatement. Jensen could feel his whole face burning red at the thought of Jared bent into some of the positions Misha had demonstrated to him once when they’d been bored. Some of them had practically defied the laws of physics.

“Tent’s done,” Misha announced with a casual grin, shrugging his shoulders and giving Jensen a friendly pat on the shoulder as he wandered over to see how Tom and Michael were getting on with theirs.

Jensen watched him, plotting his demise in slow and painful detail. Misha clearly got some sort of twisted pleasure from fucking with him and now Jensen wanted revenge. He just had to think of something good.

When he turned back to look at Jared he found his friend frowning at him.

“What?”

Jared shook his head and the frown melted away. “Nothing. Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“There’s a stove in the trunk of the van,” Tom said. Apparently he was now in charge of organisation as well as being the navigator. “Misha said he’d cook dinner for us.”

“Do we even have anything to cook?” Jared asked, his stomach growling in a way that seconded his opinion.

“Relax,” Michael assured him. “It’s all taken care of. I picked up supplies while we were in Bandon.”

Supplies, as it turned out, was bacon, eggs, beans and more beer. A lot more beer. And tequila.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Jared asked when he saw the beer mountain. “Because Krip is going to be pissed if he has to recast Sam at this point.”

“Ain’t no way in hell I’m getting a new brother now,” Jensen replied. “Plus I’d have to move out.”

Jared flung himself at Jensen, sprawling across his lap and clinging to him. “Jensen! Protect me from the tequila! You’re my only hope!”

He stroked Jared’s hair and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll keep you safe.”

Jared cackled and climbed off Jensen, who found himself feeling cold at the lack of contact.

“I thought we’d stay here a couple of days,” Michael said, now happily nestled against Tom and sipping his beer. “Plenty to see and we’ll be on the road a few days after this.”

“You gonna tell us where we’re going next?” Jensen asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“Nope. But it’s going to be awesome!”

A few beers later and Jensen was feeling warm, content and sleepy.

“I’m gonna head to bed,” he said, receiving little more than sleepy murmurs from everyone else.

“Misha should sleep in the middle,” he told Jared when Jared slowly climbed to his feet. “He’s the smallest.”

“Why is Misha sleeping with us?” Jared asked, not unkindly, just curiously. “Our tent is the same size as Tom’s.”

“Because I don’t want to be caught in the middle of Tom and Michael having sex,” Misha explained. “Well, actually, I’d have no problem with that but I think they might object.”

“Yeah, ok, you’ve got a point there. Let’s sleep.”

Not surprisingly, Jensen dreamed about Jared and kisses in his trailer which quickly turned into something more NC-17 rated. When he woke up he wasn’t cold anymore but he was hard as a rock.

It was light outside now but Jensen’s internal clock told him it was still nowhere near time to get up. He let out a soft groan and tried to readjust himself without waking up Misha who was still sleeping soundly beside him, or underneath him, more to the point. His eyes widened when he realized that some time during the night he had cuddled up to Misha and was now practically grinding against him. He prayed Misha had slept through the whole thing because this went way beyond embarrassing.

He shifted away, closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. That was when he heard Jared moving around. For a moment he considered pretending to be asleep, but finally decided against it and raised his head the minimal amount needed to get Jared in his line of sight.

“Dude,” he croaked, “it’s still early. Go back to sleep.”

“Just need a bathroom break,” Jared replied. His eyes were fixed firmly on his shoes, which he was tying with a look of almost fierce concentration. “I won’t be long.”

He crawled out of the tent before Jensen could reply. He must have been really desperate for a piss, Jensen figured.

Jensen sighed and closed his eyes, making sure there was a healthy distance between him and Misha before he fell back asleep.

When he woke up he was cold again and there were soft voices coming from outside the tent.

“I’m pretty sure it shouldn’t be this hard.”

Jensen could hear Jared groaning and he sat up cautiously. The tent was now empty, Misha apparently having got up at some point after Jensen had fallen back to sleep.

“It’s just because you’re not used to it,” Jensen heard Misha saying, his voice clearly amused. “Just take a few deep breaths and try again.”

Jensen had to admit he was curious and he quickly pulled his clothes on and stuck his head out of the tent.

He was not prepared for the sight of Jared’s ass sticking up in the air just a few inches away from his nose. He froze, eyes wide as Misha spotted him and smirked.

“This position is called Prasarita Padottanasana,” Misha told Jared, circling him to check his posture. “It’s for relieving stress and anxiety.”

“Oh, god,” Jared groaned. “I think I’m gonna die.”

“Just remember to breathe and you’ll be fine,” Misha assured him. “Like I said, you’re just not used to using some of these muscles. Keep doing this every day and you’ll be bending your body into positions you didn’t even know existed.”

Jensen scrambled out of the tent with a muttered excuse about finding the bathroom. One very cold shower later he headed back to the tents and was relieved to find that Misha’s little yoga session was over.

“I may never walk again,” Jared whimpered as Jensen sat down next to him.

“I guess now’s not the time to tell you about the ten mile hike we’ve got planned for today then?” Tom asked with a grin.

Jared let out a small sob and buried his face in Jensen’s shoulder. “Jensen, don’t make me go. Please?”

Jensen grinned. “Jared, you’re the youngest one here. You’re not going to wuss out and leave us old men to do all the hard work, are you?”

Jared considered this for a moment. “I’ll never hear the end of it if I stay here, will I?”
“Nope,” Jensen replied. “Come on, you’ll be fine once you’ve had breakfast, I promise.”

Jared’s eyes lit up at the mention of food and Jensen laughed.

Tom had been exaggerating slightly with his talk of a ten mile hike. It was actually a fairly gentle walk and it gave Jensen plenty of opportunity to take photos while they ambled through the forest.

“This place is incredible,” Jared breathed as he walked alongside Jensen.

Jensen couldn’t disagree. He didn’t think he’d seen anything this green and lush in his life. The trees that towered over them were literally covered in green moss that was so dense it was actually dripping down off the branches. It was like something from a fantasy movie and he half expected to run into the characters from Lord of the Rings.

Misha was up ahead giving an animated commentary on the types of trees and moss they were looking at, most of which went straight over Jensen’s head. How the hell did Misha know so much about everything anyway?

“He’s like a walking encyclopedia,” Jared laughed, apparently reading Jensen’s mind.

Jensen chuckled and nodded. “Well, at least he’s happy.”

“What about you?” Jared asked with a sideways glance. “Are you happy?”

“Me? I’m peachy.”

Jared considered this for a moment, almost as though he was deciding what to do with the information. Then he smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

“What about you? You having fun?”

“Yeah.”

Jensen grinned and slapped Jared on the arm. “Come on. We should catch up with Misha before he realizes he’s talking to himself.”

“Where are Michael and Tom?” Jared asked as they quickened their pace a little to catch up.

A soft moan came from somewhere behind them and Jensen grinned. “Probably best we don’t know.”

He was tired by the time they got back to the tents, but happy. It had been a pretty amazing day. He almost couldn’t wait to get home to see how his photos had come out. There was only so much detail you could get from the little display on the back of the camera.

“We’ll head off after breakfast in the morning,” Michael said after dinner as they cracked open the next set of beers. “It’s gonna be a long drive but it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

“You up for some more yoga in the morning, Jared?” Misha asked with an innocent smile. “I’ve got a whole bunch of other positions you can try.”

Jensen didn’t even want to imagine.

“Are they going to hurt as much as this morning?” Jared asked sceptically. “Because I don’t know if I’ve recovered from that yet.”

“I told you, you just need to get used to it. Maybe we can get Jensen to give it a try as well.”

“No thanks,” Jensen quickly replied. “I like my spine in one piece, thanks.”

“Your loss,” Misha said with a shrug, and Jensen wondered for a moment whether he was still talking about the yoga.

Jensen made sure to leave a reasonable distance between him and Misha that night and put on a couple of extra layers of clothes to keep him from seeking out body heat in his sleep.

“Where do you think Rosey is going to drag us to next?” Jared asked and Jensen could hear him moving around in the dark, trying to get comfortable.

“I dunno,” Jensen replied, keeping his voice at a low whisper in case Misha was actually asleep. “I’m kinda gonna miss this place, though. It’s pretty amazing and we’ve barely seen any of it.”

“Maybe we could come back some time,” Jared suggested. “You and me and the dogs. They’d love it here.”

“Yeah,” Jensen replied softly. “That sounds nice.”

He felt Misha nudge him with his foot, which answered the question about whether he was sleeping or not.

“’Night, Misha,” he said pointedly and rolled over so that his back was to the two of them. “’Night, Jared.”

“’Night, guys,” Jared’s voice came back, already sounding sleepy.

Beside him he heard Misha sigh and chose to ignore it, closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep.

Thankfully, his night was dream free and when he woke up in the morning Jared and Misha were already up.

“I can stick the TV on if you want,” Michael offered a couple of hours into the journey. “We’re gonna be on the road most of the day and there’s no sense all of you being bored.”

Jensen had laughed when he’d first seen the small TV screen installed in the back of the van because, really, who wants their car to feel like a plane? Now, though, with nothing but a whole lot of nothing outside he was glad of something to do. Jared was staring out of the window looking about as bored as Jensen felt and Misha was busy tapping away on his phone.

“I didn’t figure you for the yuppie type,” Jensen said, gesturing at the phone. “Checking up on your stocks and shares? Wrong time to be investing in anything, or hadn’t you noticed?”

Jared grinned and snatched the phone from Misha, reading aloud from the screen.

“In times of war we must all make sacrifices. As such I have given up shoes in favor of leaves tied to my feet. I suggest you all do the same.”

He glanced at Misha and then laughed. “You know you’re insane, right?”

“It has been mentioned.”

Jared handed the phone back to Misha and grinned. “Well, so long as you’re aware.”

Jensen shook his head, still having no idea what the hell they were talking about.

“Hey, Tom, pass me my phone would you?” Michael asked and Jensen could hear the grin in his voice.

“Not while you’re driving,” Tom chastised. “You can play later.”

“Fine,” Michael sighed. “Next town we come to, we’re stopping for lunch.”

The town they stopped in could barely be called a town. It was one small street dotted with a few houses and a convenience store with a small bar at the far end. Still, the bar served food and it gave them a chance to stretch their legs and that was all they really needed.

“Do you want me to drive for a while?” Tom asked while they ate. It was obvious to anyone who looked that Michael was exhausted. He’d done all the driving himself since they’d set off from LA and even the small break in the national park hadn’t done him much good.

“Nah, man,” Michael said with a grateful smile. “Nobody drives my baby but me.”

At the slightly hurt look in Tom’s eyes, he reached over and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’ll only drive for a couple more hours and then we’ll find a hotel for the night. Then you can help me relax after a hard day’s driving.”

Tom grinned. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

When they got back in the van Michael put the TV on without asking whether anyone actually wanted to watch it or not, and Jensen had to laugh when he saw what was on the screen.

“Aww, man,” Jared groaned as the opening credits for Gilmore Girls started. “Put something else on. Seriously.”

“Are you kidding?” Michael asked. “This show is awesome. You ever seen it, new guy?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Misha replied innocently, and Jensen knew for a fact that he was lying. Misha had told him one day on set that he’d watched a couple of episodes of Smallville and Gilmore Girls as well as Supernatural before the audition so he could get a feel for who he’d be working with if he got the part.

“Watch and enjoy,” Michael cackled as Jared curled up as much as he could and looked at anything but the TV. Jensen felt kind of bad. He hated to see himself on screen even more than Jared did but at the same time it was fascinating to watch. Jared was so young, so different from the guy he was now. Except the smile. His smile was still exactly the same, so bright and dimpled that it made him want to smile back.

Jensen watched until the episode was over and then Michael switched the TV to one of the music channels.

“My god, that was embarrassing,” Jared moaned when he realized it was over. “Next time we have to watch Days of Our Lives or one of the crappy movies you guys did when you were starting out.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Misha said gently, patting Jared on the knee. “We all had to start out somewhere.”

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed, wishing he’d been the one to offer words of comfort first and wishing even more that he could reach Jared’s knee. “Seriously, man, I promise we can watch Dark Angel or something next time.”

The smile Jared flashed him was brighter than the one he’d given Misha and somehow that made Jensen feel better.

Jensen was lying on the bed of his hotel room doing a whole lot of nothing when he heard the tap at his door. For a moment he considered ignoring it. He was beyond exhausted and the only reason he was still awake was because it was way too early to go to sleep.

“Jensen?”

Jared’s muffled voice coming through the wooden door had him up and out of bed in an instant, opening up to find his friend standing on the other side with a tentative smile on his face.

“Hey,” Jared said, his smile fading a little when he took in Jensen’s appearance. “You weren’t sleeping or anything, were you?”

“Nah,” Jensen said, stepping aside to let Jared in.

“Misha has gone off to commune with nature or something,” Jared explained as he flopped down into one of the armchairs. “Tom and Michael are ‘relaxing’ so I thought maybe we could hang out and raid the mini bar.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Several small bottles of booze later, they were sprawled side by side on Jensen’s bed and staring up at the ceiling. He wasn’t quite drunk but there was a sort of comfortable numbness that he was enjoying the feeling of.

“Can I ask you something?” Jared asked in a soft voice which was slightly slurred and told Jensen that Jared was about as drunk as he was.

“Sure,” Jensen replied. “But would it stop you if I said no?”

Jared chuckled quietly. “Only because I’m too tired to argue with you right now.”

Jensen grinned. “Ok, shoot.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Jensen frowned. “Uh, yeah, I know. Why?”

He felt the bed move as Jared shrugged. “I dunno. I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

Jensen’s frown deepened. He knew there was something Jared wasn’t telling him, or more specifically he was waiting for Jensen to talk to him about it and this was his opening.

Oh, shit! What if Jared knew? He knew and he wanted Jensen to tell him so he could let him down gently. It was the only explanation. If Jared returned his feelings, he’d have kissed him or done something by now, right?

“I know,” he said quietly finally, hoping to God he’d managed to keep the panic out of his voice. “There’s nothing, honest.”

“Okay.”

He wasn’t sure Jared believed him.

He jolted awake with a start and blinked when the first thing he saw was Jared’s face a few inches from his own. It took a moment for him to realize that they must have fallen asleep after their date with the mini bar and a quick check told him they were both fully clothed and lying on top of the covers. Jared was sound asleep, face relaxed.

Jensen smiled and allowed himself a few minutes just to watch Jared sleep. What he wouldn’t give to be able to wake up to that sight every morning.

Jared shifted slightly, letting out a small murmur as his hair tumbled into his face. Jensen brushed the hair back, smiling softly when Jared sighed contentedly in his sleep. The rational part of his brain told him he should wake Jared up, but the rest of him, the part that was still buzzing with alcohol, told him he’d rather cut off a limb than wake his friend when he looked so peaceful.

Jensen continued to watch Jared until he fell back asleep himself.

When he woke up again Jared was gone and a blanket had been draped over him. Jensen in no way rolled over onto the half of the bed Jared had been occupying so he could breathe in his scent.

The next day was not what Jensen would call fun. They spent pretty much the whole day cooped up in the van, only stopping for meal and bathroom breaks. The time in between was filled with listening to Michael sing along to Chicago (badly), watching crappy TV (thankfully, no Dark Angel or Days of Our Lives though) and watching a whole lot of nothing go by the window.

By the time they reached the hotel that night Jensen was pretty sure he was going to go stir-crazy and the amount of coffee he’d been drinking during the day didn’t help much.

“I think I’m gonna hit the gym or something,” Jensen announced once they’d checked in.

Jared stared at him. “Ok, who are you and what have you done with Jensen?”

“What? I work out!”

“Yeah, only when you have to,” Jared laughed.

“Well, I have to right now or I’m going to go nuts. Seriously, how are you guys not crawling up the walls after being stuck in that van all day?”

Misha shrugged. “I’m going to go and indulge in some herbal refreshment.”

The look Tom and Michael shot each other told him exactly what they’d be doing to unwind and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Seriously, if all Michael had wanted to do was spend two weeks fucking Tom, they didn’t need to leave LA.

“I’ll come with you,” Jared announced, cutting into Jensen’s thoughts. “That yoga this morning did nothing to burn off my excess energy.”

“Philistine,” Misha muttered with a smile and Jensen went back to the receptionist to ask about the gym.

“They’ve only got a pool,” he said when he came back to rejoin the group.

Jared shrugged. “Works for me. See you back down here in ten? Just gonna dump my bags in the room.”

“Sure,” Jensen agreed. “See you in ten.”

The air was warm and humid, filled with the smell of chlorine as Jensen entered the changing area and found an empty cubicle to change in. It felt good to get out of his clothes and into a pair of shorts and he couldn’t wait for the cool water on his skin. He could already feel all his pent up energy melting away, just at the thought of it.

“Jensen? You in here?”

“Yeah,” he called back to Jared. “Be out in a minute.”

“I’m already changed so I’ll see you in the pool, ok?”

“Ok!”

He finished changing and shoved his clothes into a locker before heading to the pool. He really hated the humidity of indoor pools. Nothing like the dry Texan summers he was used to.

There were a few casual swimmers slowly making their way up and down the pool length. Mostly guys on business looking to unwind Jensen guessed from their leisurely pace.

It made Jared easy to spot as he powered past all of them, long arms gliding in and out of the water like he belonged there. Jensen had to take a minute to appreciate the way Jared’s arms bulged as he flexed them and the way the muscles in his back rippled as he ploughed through the water. Really, no one on earth had the right to look as good as Jared did right now. It was like something from a cologne commercial. He half expected Jared to rise out of the water in slow motion while some cheesy rock music played as he brushed the hair out of his face.

“Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there like a pussy?” Jared called, earning him a glare from one of the middle-aged businessmen.

Jensen grinned and jumped in, eyes closing in pleasure as the cool water enveloped him. When he came to the surface he found that Jared had swum over to join him.

“I’d offer to race you,” Jared grinned, “but I know you’d never keep up with me.”

Jensen smiled slyly and edged closer. “Oh, yeah?”

He dunked Jared’s head under the water and cackled before swimming as hard and fast as he could towards the other end of the pool. He could hear Jared splutter behind him before following.

Jensen kicked harder, feeling the adrenaline of the chase hit him hard. This was just what he needed. He swam faster, no idea how far behind him Jared was. All he was focussing on was getting to his goal.

He touched the side and turned around to proclaim his victory when Jared crashed into him. Jensen reacted instinctively, grabbing hold of Jared’s arm and pulling him close to stop him sinking under the water.

“You ok?” he asked, eyes warm with concern.

“Yeah,” Jared replied with a grin. “Thanks. You gonna gloat about your victory now?”

Jensen returned the grin. “Hey, if you can’t accept that I beat you, that’s not my problem.”

Jared laughed and shook his head vigorously, spraying Jensen with water from his wet hair.

“I swear, man, you get more and more like your dogs every day. You need help.”

“You love it and you know it.”

It was then that Jensen realized he was still holding onto Jared’s arm and that they were practically chest to chest in the water. Jared seemed to notice it too but he wasn’t making any effort to get away. Instead his tongue snaked out to lick away a drop of water from his lip in a way that Jensen considered to be borderline obscene.

“Jared…”

Jensen realized in a moment of startling clarity that he wanted to tell Jared everything about how he felt, right here and right now. All his doubts, any insecurities he might have had about it ruining their friendship lay suddenly forgotten as he looked into Jared’s eyes and thought about kissing him.

For one split second he thought Jared was going to make the first move. His head tilted and he leaned forward slightly as Jensen readied himself for a kiss.

The kiss never came.

Instead Jared laughed softly, almost sadly, and gently extracted himself from Jensen’s grasp.

“Why don’t we go and see what Misha is up to?”

What the hell?

“You know what Misha is up to,” Jensen practically growled. “He pretty much told us less than an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well, why don’t we join him?”

Jared was already starting to swim away and Jensen was already aching at the loss of contact. He had no idea what was happening now but he had the feeling Jared knew something that he didn’t.

“Join him?” Jensen repeated incredulously. “I didn’t think you were into that shit.”

“I’m not,” Jared replied, now having to practically yell down the length of the pool to make himself heard. “I just think he could use the company. Come on.”

Jensen could only watch in baffled confusion as Jared got out of the pool and headed back into the changing area. After a few moments, when Jensen was sure Jared wasn’t coming back, he got out and followed him.

Breakfast was a quiet affair the next morning. They’d knocked at Misha’s door after the swim but had no answer so figured he’d either passed out in bed or gone out. They’d headed to their own rooms with a muttered goodnight and that was the end of it.

Now Jared could barely make eye contact with Jensen, and Jensen had no idea why. He was reminded of just why he hadn’t ever told Jared about his feelings for him. Because this was awkward enough and nothing had even happened.

“We’ll be at our destination in a few hours,” Michael told them once they were on the road. Either he was oblivious to what was going on between Jared and Jensen or he was just ignoring it.

“Great,” Jensen muttered in an unenthusiastic voice. Right now he kind of just wanted to go home.

The journey was made pretty much in silence save for the music coming out of the car stereo and Misha occasionally telling them something interesting about the wilderness they were driving through. There was only so much you could say about endless stretches of forest though, and soon even he fell silent.

Eventually they slowed down and pulled into a small car park.

“Here we are,” Michael announced happily and they all climbed out of the van. It was obvious what they were here for as soon as they got outside.

“Mount Rushmore?” Jensen snorted. “You drove us for three days of nothing to see Mount Rushmore?”

“What?” Michael asked, almost sounding hurt. “I’ve never seen it before.”

Jared tilted his head to one side and squinted. “I kind of thought it would be . . . more impressive.”

He grinned at Jensen, Jensen grinned back and suddenly everything was ok with them again. Like nothing had ever happened.

“I’ve seen it before,” Misha contributed and that just made them all grin harder.

“So have I,” Tom chipped in. “And it was kind of boring the first time around.”

“You guys suck,” Michael grumbled with a pout. Jensen managed to pacify him by taking a photo of them all standing in front of it. Michael had a huge grin on his face while the rest of them expressed various levels of boredom.

“Ok,” Michael announced, apparently happy again. “Let’s find a hotel for the night and then we can move on.”

“What’s next?” Jensen asked as they all headed back to the van. “The Grand Canyon?”

“Only if I get to toss you in it,” Michael shot back.

“You can try,” Jensen replied. “But you’ll have to get past Jared first and he’s bigger than you.”

“He’s bigger than all of us,” Tom said with a grin. “Maybe we should just avoid The Grand Canyon and go somewhere . . . safer.”

“Works for me.”

The next morning Misha announced that he wanted to swap seats with Jensen in the van so he could see out of the window for a while.

“We’re driving through Indiana, dude,” Jensen pointed out. “There’s nothing to see.”

“So it won’t make any difference if we swap then, will it?”

Misha had that glint in his eye again that made Jensen nervous but he didn’t want to question it in front of everyone. He traded seats without a fuss and found himself sandwiched between Jared and Misha. Now he knew where the glint had come from. Misha was getting less subtle with every day that passed.

“I’m totally using you as a pillow if I get tired,” Jared said with a grin once they were on the road.

“Right back at you,” Jensen replied.

“You know, I can tip the seats back into a bed if you guys want to sleep,” Michael offered.

Jensen blinked. “Your van turns into a bed? Wow, and I thought the strobe lights were tacky. Please tell me you never fucked anyone back here.”

Michael paused for a moment. “I had the seats cleaned afterwards if that’s any good.”

Jensen faked vomit sounds. “No, it isn’t.”

“Well, it’s either that or walk.”

Jensen muttered under his breath about this being the worst vacation ever until Jared gave his knee a comforting squeeze. Then things didn’t seem quite so bad.

They paused when they got to the Mississippi River and got out so they could stretch their legs and Jensen could take some photos before getting back into the car and driving for a few more hours before they had to stop for the night.

The next day Jensen found himself sandwiched between Jared and Misha again with no words being spoken on the matter. Apparently, this was the new seating arrangement and that was it. Even though he was still kind of pissed at Misha for doing it, he had to admit he’d been in worse places.

They arrived in Chicago late that night, having got caught up in traffic as soon as they crossed into the city. It had taken them nearly an hour just to get to the hotel and by that point none of them had really felt like trying to go out and explore. Instead they had dinner and a few drinks at the hotel bar and then headed off to bed.

Things seemed better the next morning. It was a bright, sunny day, perfect weather for doing the whole tourist thing.

“We’re not driving,” Michael told them all at breakfast. “I’ve got a few things we can do while we’re here but pretty much everyone has told me that driving in this city is hell. We’ll take buses and cabs to the places we need to get to.”

“Or we could try walking,” Misha suggested, which just earned him a laugh from Michael.

“Buses and cabs,” Michael repeated. “Now, who here likes baseball?”

Jensen shrugged. He and Jared often spent a quiet afternoon watching football when they weren’t working, but he was pretty much indifferent to baseball.

“I’m not really into the whole sport thing,” Misha said, “but I don’t hate it or anything.”

“Well, we might check out a game later,” Michael said, “but we’ll do some other stuff first and see how it goes.”

Other stuff, it transpired, turned out to be one of the weirdest sculptures Jensen had ever seen.

“I don’t get it,” Jared said as they circled the thing so Jensen could take photos from every angle. “What’s it supposed to be?”

“A bean, apparently,” Jensen said. “I dunno, I kind of like it.”

Jared grimaced and glanced over to Tom and Michael, grinning when he saw Michael pulling stupid faces at his reflection and standing at different angles so that his shape was distorted.

Misha was standing back from the rest of them and just watching, taking the occasional photo of himself from different angles in front of the bean.

“That going on your Twitter?” Jared asked.

Misha shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Who wants to go on the Ferris Wheel?” Michael suddenly asked, bounding over and practically reeking of hyperactivity. “Come on, it’ll be awesome.”

They headed towards the pier and the giant wheel that was clearly the main attraction. Luckily, it wasn’t too busy and they only had to stand in line for about ten minutes.

It was two per car and Tom and Michael took the first one, leaving Jared, Jensen and Misha to sort out who would be riding on their own.

“You ride with Misha,” Jared insisted to Jensen. “I don’t mind going on my own.”

Jensen obviously wanted to ride with Jared but wasn’t going to press the issue after the incident in the pool so he just stood quietly while Misha insisted he wanted to ride on his own and that Jared and Jensen should share a car.

“I’m going to take some photos for Twitter while I’m at the top,” Misha finally said. “If you want Jensen to be in them, then fine, but I really don’t think he’d want that.”

“Hell, no,” Jensen quickly interjected. “Jared, I’m riding with you.”

They quickly climbed into the car while Misha waited behind them to get the next one.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as they slowly made the climb up. When they finally made a stop at the top the view was spectacular. They could see right out over half of Chicago and over the sea as well. Jensen took out his camera and snapped a few photos.

“Misha’s kind of an asshole,” Jared finally blurted out with such ferocity that Jensen almost dropped his camera.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“Dude, he threatened to put pictures of you on the internet just so he wouldn’t have to ride with you. Don’t you think that’s kind of a shitty thing to do?”

Jensen shook his head. “Come on, man. It’s Misha. You know he wouldn’t actually have done it.”

“Well, why say it then?”

That left Jensen stumped. He knew exactly why Misha had done it. He was still determined to push the two of them together at any available opportunity but obviously there was no way in hell he could tell Jared that.

“I dunno,” he finally said. “I find it easier not to question the weird shit that Misha does.”

Jared frowned.

“Look, can’t you just enjoy us hanging out like this?” Jensen pressed. “Or do you hate being around me that much.”

“Of course not,” Jared quickly replied. “You know I love hanging out with you. I just don’t like seeing Misha treat you like that, ok?”

The warmth that spread through Jensen heated him from his toes right to the tips of his hair as he gave Jared a gentle smile. “I appreciate that, man, I really do. But don’t worry about me, ok?”

“I always worry about you, Jensen,” Jared replied softly. “Don’t ever ask me to stop.”

Jensen had no answer to that and before he knew it they were back on the ground again.

“Right,” Michael announced with a big smile. “Food and then baseball. Let’s go.”

Jensen was surprised at how much he enjoyed the baseball once they actually got there, but was willing to admit that a lot of it was to do with how excited Jared was during the game.

“Did you see that?” he yelled, grabbing hold of Jensen’s arm, and when either team scored a home run Jared practically jumped on him with glee.

“That was awesome,” Jared said once the game was over, slinging an arm across Jensen’s shoulders. “We should watch more baseball on TV at home.”

Jensen simply smiled and patted Jared’s hand. He was always like this whenever he discovered something new, like a toddler in some respects. Jensen was almost certain that by the time they got home Jared would have forgotten all about baseball and would be fixated on something else instead.

“Wait until you see what I’ve got planned for after dinner,” Michael said with a grin. “I’ve saved the best till last.”

“Just tell me it’s not a pony,” Jensen replied. “I’ve been telling Jared for months that he can’t have one.”

“Only because I know what Misha does to ponies,” Jared replied.

Misha shrugged. “At least I’m being environmentally friendly.”

“I swear you guys are talking a foreign language half the time,” Jensen said with a shake of his head. “Can we go and eat now?”

Jared blinked at him in surprise. “Are you telling me Misha hasn’t shown you his Twitter page?”

“Uh, no,” Jensen replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why would he? You know me, I can barely find the time to e-mail my mom once a week to let her know I’m still alive.”

“I dunno. I just figured…never mind. Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

“All is right with the world then,” Jensen replied with a smile and they followed Tom and Michael in the direction of the restaurant.

They spent the evening wandering the streets of Chicago, checking out the stores and a couple of bars until night fell and Michael took them to the final stop of their trip.

“I hope none of you are afraid of heights,” Michael said as they entered the observatory. “It’s a long way up.”

It wasn’t that Jensen was scared of heights, exactly. He could appreciate a good view when he saw one so long as he didn’t think about how far up they were and how many microseconds it would take between him falling and hitting the ground. As long as he didn’t look down, he’d be fine.

“Hey, look at this!” Jared exclaimed gleefully. “There’s glass balconies where you can see through the floor.”

Jensen could feel himself turning green at the mere prospect and forced a smile as Jared bounced happily next to him. “That’s great, man. I’m just gonna stay here, ok?”

He felt almost guilty when Jared stilled beside him. “Shit, are you ok? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m fine,” Jensen lied, and it would have worked, he was sure, if it hadn’t come out as more of a moan. He could swear the building was swaying in the wind and he found himself wondering if there was any chance of survival if the building fell over.

“You don’t look fine,” Jared frowned. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Jensen shook his head. There was no way he was ruining Jared’s vacation over a touch of vertigo. “Nah, I’m good. Go enjoy the glass balcony. I’m just gonna head to the restaurant and get some water or something.”

For a moment he thought Jared was going to insist on going with him, and the pathetic thing was that Jensen almost wanted him to. Jared had this amazing skill for making him forget about what was bothering him just by being there.

“I’ll come and find you in a few minutes, ok?” Jared finally promised hesitantly.

Jensen gave him a gentle shove. “Go have fun.”

He waited until Jared was out on the balcony before heading towards the elevators. He could have sworn the floor was rising and falling under his feet, like he was on a boat. He let out another soft moan and bolted for the bathroom where he threw up what felt like everything he had eaten that week.

Part three

Fic: Misha Collins Makes A Match (3/3)

2009-10-08T21:50:19Z

He had no idea how long he’d been slumped over the toilet but there was no way he was moving. Just the idea of even lifting his head made him want to puke some more, and he was pretty sure he had nothing left to throw up.

“Jensen?”

Jared’s voice, frantic and worried, did manage to get him to raise his head.

“Jensen, are you in here?”

“Yeah,” he said, but what actually came out was more of a rusty whine.

He felt the door of the cubicle hit the back of his feet as Jared squeezed his way in.

“Shit,” Jared whispered as he crouched down beside him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“Wasn’t,” Jensen moaned unhappily as his stomach started to roll again. “Not until we got here.”

“Come on, let’s get you out of here, then,” Jared said gently as he eased Jensen to his feet. For a moment Jensen was worried he was either going to pass out on top of Jared or puke down his shirt. His vision whited out for a moment and he reached out blindly to grab hold of Jared’s arm, but then everything settled down and all he could see was Jared’s concerned eyes looking into his.

“You ok?” Jared asked, and they were so close that Jensen could feel his breath brushing against his face.

Jensen nodded his head. Right now he wanted nothing more than to kiss him, and it was only the fact that he was all pukey and gross that stopped him. “Can we just get out of here?”

He let Jared steer him out of the bathroom, grateful for the warm body to lean on. Misha, Tom and Michael were waiting outside for them.

“I’m gonna take him back to the hotel,” Jared said and nobody argued. Jensen realized he must look at bad as he felt, which was pretty fucking awful.

“Come on, it won’t take us long to get back,” Jared said and Jensen simply nodded, letting Jared lead him out.

When they got back to the hotel Jared insisted that Jensen drink some water and brush his teeth before getting into bed. The truth was, once they were on the ground and outside Jensen actually felt a lot better, but Jared seemed determined to take care of him so Jensen wasn’t going to argue.

When he came out of the bathroom he found that Jared had laid a t-shirt and sweats out on the bed for him to sleep in. He ducked into the bathroom while Jensen changed and came out a few minutes later with a damp washcloth in his hand.

“I don’t have a fever,” Jensen pointed out as he climbed into bed.

“I know,” Jared replied, waiting for Jensen to get settled before putting the cloth on his forehead. “But it’ll cool you down a bit and that should help settle your stomach.”

Jensen sighed. “I’m sorry I ruined your evening, man. I’m just gonna sleep now if you want to go and meet up with the others.”

“Nah,” Jared said with a shrug. “I’m pretty beat. Figured I’d just stay and keep an eye on you. Misha will be pissed if I let you choke on your own vomit.”

A small smile curled Jensen’s lips as he closed his eyes. “Well, so long as you’re not going to just sit here and watch me sleep. At least find a book or watch TV or something.”

He fell asleep before Jared answered.

When he woke up he felt a hell of a lot better and a quick glance at the clock told him it was only 4am so he had hours yet before breakfast and hitting the road. The bed was warm and comfortable and he was just considering going back to sleep when he realized that he wasn’t alone.

Jared was sprawled in a chair beside the bed, in a position that did not look comfortable.

Jensen blinked.

Jared had kicked off his shoes but was still in the same clothes he’d been wearing when Jensen had fallen asleep.

Jensen blinked again.

As he reached out a hand to shake Jared awake, he was almost certain he was hallucinating. He couldn’t imagine why else Jared would still be in his bedroom at 4am.

“Jared?”

He shook Jared’s knee and frowned when he realized that he was very much real and still dead to the world. Jensen shook him again.

“Hey, Jared, wake up.”

Jared’s eyes opened into small slits as he peered through the dark at Jensen.

“You ok?” he finally asked in a raspy voice. “Feeling sick?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Jensen replied with a small smile. “Thought you might want to try sleeping in an actual bed for a few hours, though.”

Jared grunted and lurched to his feet, staggering a few feet to Jensen’s bed and collapsing face first beside him. He shifted his weight slightly and let out a contented sigh as he settled down while Jensen blinked again in surprise.

“This wasn’t exactly the bed I meant,” Jensen sighed.

Jared’s only response was a soft snore and Jensen sighed again as he closed his eyes. How the hell was he supposed to get to sleep now with Jared lying so close and looking so adorable? He lay there for a while, listening to Jared’s snores and wondering why the world insisted on continually torturing him like this.

When his alarm eventually went off he no longer felt well rested, he felt tense and irritable and in serious need of coffee.

He showered and headed down to the restaurant for breakfast, leaving Jared to sleep a while longer.

Misha looked highly amused when he joined Jensen at breakfast.

“Do I even want to know?” Jensen sighed wearily.

“I heard Jared didn’t go back to his room last night,” Misha said by way of an explanation, and if possible his grin got even wider.

“So?” Jensen asked with feigned disinterest. “Maybe he hooked up with some girl he met at the hotel bar.”

“Or maybe he’s naked and sated in your bed,” Misha suggested right back at him.

Jensen raised both eyebrows. “You know, for someone who’s happily married you have a rather unhealthy interest in my sex life.”

Misha shrugged. “Everyone needs a hobby.”

He tilted his head and studied Jensen for a moment, a mannerism which Jensen had no problem with when Misha was in character, but while sitting here at breakfast in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt it looked just plain disturbing.

“Oh,” Misha said disappointedly after a few seconds. “You didn’t fuck him then?”

Jensen was about ready for the floor to open up and swallow him now. “Jesus, Misha. Keep your fucking voice down, will you?”

Misha glanced around. “I’m not talking any louder than usual.”

“Yeah, well, stop talking then.”

Misha shrugged. “You know you’re going to regret it when you eventually hook up with Jared and realize all the amazing hotel sex you’ve missed out on during this trip. I’m just saying.”

“Hotel sex?” Jensen asked curiously, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Let’s put it this way,” Misha said with a sly smile. “Hotel beds are designed to be a hell of a lot stronger than regular beds.”

Jensen blinked at him.

“Oh, look, there’s Jared,” Misha said with an innocent grin as Jared walked in. “I’ll leave you with that image.”

He grabbed an apple from the fruit pile and bit into it as he left, humming to himself as he passed Jared.

“Hey,” Jared said tiredly as he plonked himself down in the chair opposite Jensen. “Sorry for crashing on you earlier. I didn’t mean to fall asleep in your room. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, I’m good. You look like hell, though.”

Jared managed a weak grin as he tucked into his breakfast. “Thanks, man.”

“We’ve got a few hours between here and our next stop,” Jensen said. “According to Rosey, anyway. So at least you can crash in the van. Seriously, you should have just gone to bed.”

Jared shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

And there was no way Jensen could be mad about that.

They ate the rest of their breakfast in silence.

Jared passed out pretty much as soon as they got seated in the van, and it wasn’t long before he was curled against Jensen and resting on his shoulder.

“You enjoying the snuggles back there?” Michael asked as soon as they were on the highway. “Tom, why don’t you ever do that to me?”

“Because you’re driving, dumbass,” Tom pointed out. “I’m not going to cause an accident just so you can get some cuddles.”

Misha just looked at Jensen with that now patented amused smile.

“What?” Jensen asked, almost snapping. He was getting pretty damn sick of Misha turning everything into something about Jared’s imaginary lust for him. “He’s done this ever since I’ve known him. He crashes in the car and his body just sort of seeks out the nearest warm object.”

“He’s not cuddling me,” Misha pointed out and Jensen glowered.

“Fuck you, man.”

The journey through Indiana was about the most boring one they’d done yet and Jensen fell asleep after a while, resting his head against Jared’s and not caring what Misha or anyone else thought. He didn’t wake up until they were driving into Cleveland and Jared was already awake by that point and staring out of the window.

“Feeling better?” Jensen asked as he wiped the sleep out of his eyes.

“Yeah,” Jared replied with a soft smile. “Thanks.”

By the time they’d parked up, Michael was practically bouncing in his seat.

“How much coffee have you had today?” Tom asked wryly as they got out of the van.

“Dude, do you even know where we are?” Michael asked with almost manic glee.

“Uh . . . Cleveland? Is this a trick question?”

“Cleveland!” Michael screeched. “Do you know who came from Cleveland?”

Everyone fell silent for a moment.

“The Cleveland Torso Murderer,” Misha volunteered.

Michael chose to ignore him. “Joe Shuster and Jerry Siegel.”

Everyone except Tom looked at him blankly.

“The guys who created Superman!” Michael added. “Come on, this place is practically Mecca.”

Tom smiled and pulled Michael into a hug. “Isn’t he just the cutest little geek?”

“Fuck you, man.” Michael squirmed as Tom pressed a sloppy kiss to the top of his head. The others just laughed.

“So where are we going first?” Jensen asked once Michael finished glowering at everyone. “Please tell me we’re not going up any more skyscrapers.”

Jared smiled and gave Jensen’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Yeah, I don’t think any of us wants to wind up covered in your puke,” Michael grimaced, “so I thought we’d stick to some nice, safe museums.”

“Works for me,” Jensen replied with a smile.

“Alrighty then, let’s go.”

“And once he had lured his victims away, he hacked off their heads, arms and legs leaving only an unidentifiable bloody torso behind. To this day the police don’t know for sure how many people he killed.”

There was a manic glint in Misha’s eyes as he described the Cleveland Torso Murderer to them in gruesome detail as they walked around Cleveland Police Museum.

“I’m really starting to think there’s something wrong with him,” Jensen said to Jared in a stage whisper as they walked alongside him. “He’s way too into this.”

Misha grinned. “Ooh, look, death masks.”

By the time they’d finished the tour of the museum and Michael had announced it was time for dinner, Jensen wasn’t sure he wanted to even look at food. Misha’s graphic descriptions had pretty much made him lose his appetite.

“Don’t be such a wimp,” Michael said as they piled into a nearby restaurant.

Jared nodded. “Besides, you need to replace all that food you threw up yesterday.”

“Yeah, because talking about puke is really going to make me hungry,” Jensen grumbled. He still managed to force down a salad and some fries and felt better for it afterwards.

They found a nearby hotel to crash in and Jensen was almost freaked out by how weird it felt to be sleeping in a bed without Jared in. He really needed to get a grip and get over this stupid crush before it fucked everything up. He tried not to think about Jared as he fell asleep, but still ended up dreaming about him.

“I think I’m actually losing my mind,” he told Misha quietly over breakfast the next morning. “Seriously, I’m going nuts.”

“I’ve already told you what you need to do,” Misha replied patiently. “Tell him how you feel. Even if he’s not interested, at least it’ll be out there and you can move on.”

“Well, what if I don’t want to move on?” Jensen said. “I don’t think I’m ever going to meet anyone like him again and I can’t fuck this up, you know.”

“So you’re willing to fuck yourself up instead?” Misha asked. “It’s not healthy, Jensen. Seriously.”

Jensen laughed weakly. “You’re never serious, apart from when you’re working.”

“I’m serious when one of my friends is doing something like this to themselves,” Misha replied and Jensen was shocked to see that there was none of the usual humor in his eyes. “Have you looked at yourself recently? You look like shit.”

“I’m still pretty, though, right?”

Misha simply stared at him and Jensen felt himself withering under the gaze.

“I’ll get over it. Don’t worry about me.”

Misha shrugged. “It’s my job to worry about you, since you’re apparently not going to do it for yourself.”

“Dude, you sound like Jared.”

“Yeah, well, we both care about you. Although I suspect Jared cares about you in a different way to me. Have you noticed he’s sitting alone this morning?”

Jensen glanced over Misha’s shoulder and saw Jared sitting at another table by himself, quietly eating breakfast. Jensen hadn’t even seen him come in.

“Go and talk to him,” Misha prompted. “I’m done eating anyway.”

Jensen was already halfway across the room and barely heard him.

“This seat taken?”

Jared shrugged and Jensen took that as an invite and sat down. “What’s wrong with you this morning? Hung over?”

“No,” Jared replied. “Just didn’t want to bother you is all.”

Jensen laughed. “Wow, there really is a first time for everything. When has bothering me ever stopped you before?”

Jared’s head shot up, eyes narrowed and cheeks flushed. “Well, I’m sorry my mere presence irritates you. I’ll be sure to stay out of your way more often.”

“What the hell?”

Jensen could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Jared get actually angry. Generally, if he was pissed he’d go off and vent his anger somewhere alone before coming back and joining everyone else. He was the sort of guy who didn’t want his bad mood to bring anyone else down with him. So seeing him now, flushed with rage like this, pretty much freaked him out.

“Jared, what’s up? Are you pissed at me?”

“No,” Jared replied in a tone that suggested the opposite.

“Wow, I see you’re really putting those acting skills to work this morning,” Jensen said dryly. “Come on, man, it’s me. You can talk to me. What did I do?”

“Nothing,” Jared replied in the same sullen voice.

Jensen sighed. “You know what? Fine. You want to act like an emo teenager then that’s cool with me. I’m gonna go and pack. When you get done sulking and actually want to talk then come and find me.”

He marched out of the restaurant and back to his hotel room. He didn’t see Jared until it was time for them to meet at the van, and Jared climbed in without making eye contact.

Well, if that was how he wanted to play it then that was fine by Jensen.

They had been driving for two hours and by that time Jared and Jensen’s bad moods seemed to have hit everyone else in the van.

“Right,” Michael announced. “We’re stopping here and getting a few drinks until everyone has chilled the fuck out. We’re on vacation, guys.”

Nobody objected and they filed into the nearest bar and ordered some beers.

Jensen watched Jared staring at his beer, sipping it slowly as he slouched forward in his seat. He still had no clue what Jared was pissed about, but something was clearly bothering him and he apparently didn’t want to talk about it, which was so not Jared. Usually you had to bribe him to shut him up.

“So, who’s going to tell me what’s going on?” Michael said. “Because if you two are going to act like bitches for the rest of the trip I am leaving your asses here and you can make your own way back to LA.”

Jared shrugged and muttered into his drink. “Nothing. Just tired is all.”

Michael sighed his disbelief and turned his attention to Jensen.

“Don’t look at me,” Jensen said, raising his hands in surrender. “I don’t know what’s crawled up his ass.”

Jared slammed his bottle down on the table, ignoring the foam that erupted from the neck of the bottle and ran down onto his hand. “I’m going to get some air.”

He stormed out without another word, leaving the rest of them watching his back in silence.

“Okay, that’s weird,” Tom said once Jared was out of sight. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jared mad like that before.”

“Seriously, I have no idea what he’s so pissed about,” Jensen said helplessly. “He got mad at breakfast and wouldn’t tell me why. I’ve tried talking to him but he’s not interested.”

Misha rose from his seat. “Let me try talking to him.”

Jensen nodded. If anyone could get Jared to open up it would be Misha. Jensen had no idea how he did it but Misha had a knack of getting people to talk about whatever was bothering them. It was pretty much why he was in this situation now, in fact.

Misha headed outside and Jensen sipped his beer quietly.

“I don’t know why you two don’t just fuck and have done with it,” Michael said after a couple of minutes.

Jensen raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Michael retorted.

“You want me to fuck Misha?” Jensen asked incredulously. “Look, I know he has a very open relationship with his wife but I don’t think he’s into me in that way.”

“Don’t be a dick, Jensen, you know what I mean. I don’t know why you don’t just fuck Padalecki and have done with it. Might snap him out of his pissy mood, if nothing else.”

Jensen was getting pretty damn sick of everyone telling him to fuck Jared. Especially since right now Jared didn’t even want to look at him, never mind talk to him. Did the whole world think hearts, rainbows and world peace would occur if the two of them had sex?

“I’m gonna take a piss,” he said, ignoring Michael’s suggestion entirely as he rose to his feet. “Anyone want another beer when I get back?”

Tom and Michael nodded and Jensen headed to the bathroom.

“Don’t I know you?”

The guy that came in just after Jensen reeked of booze and was swaying on his feet as he fumbled with his zipper.

It wasn’t that Jensen was recognized everywhere he went, but when it did happen it seemed to be at really bad times, like right now while he had his dick in his hand.

“I don’t think so,” Jensen replied politely. “I’m just passing through and having a few drinks with my buddies.”

He deliberately tried not to make eye contact with the guy, who he could feel staring at him now.

“Nah, man, I’m sure I know you from somewhere.”

Now Jensen just wanted to finish pissing and get the hell out of there. He was really starting to regret those beers he’d had as well as the coffee and juice he’d drunk with breakfast.

“Just give me a minute and it’ll come to me.”

Jensen thankfully finished, zipped his fly and quickly washed his hands before making a break for the door.

“You’re on TV!”

He froze, his hand resting on the door handle. He’d grown used to avoiding talking about what he did over the years but he made a point of never outright lying to anyone.

“Yeah,” he said softly and he could hear the guy zipping up and splashing some water on his hands behind him.

“You gotta have a drink with us, man. My buddies will be so jealous I met a real-life TV star. Hey, are your friends from TV too? You should all join us! It’ll be awesome!”

The guy pulled the door open for him and rested his hand on Jensen’s lower back as he steered him away from Tom and Michael and towards a group of guys who could be heard before he even saw them.

“No, thanks,” Jensen replied, trying his very best to remain polite even though the hand on his back was freaking him out more than just a little. “We were actually just getting ready to leave.”

“Aww! Come on! You can have one drink. We don’t get many celebrities out our way.”

The pressure on his back increased a little and he found himself being almost pushed towards the large crowd of guys.

Enough was enough.

Jensen twisted away and turned so that he was actually facing the guy instead of being steered like cattle.

“Look,” he said firmly. “I’m sorry but I really have to go.”

It was like a switch had been flipped. One minute the guy was all smiles and the next he was glaring at Jensen like he’d just stolen the virginity of the guy’s daughter.

“What? You think you’re too good to hang out with a few regular guys?”

Jensen could feel flecks of spit hitting him in the face and it made him feel sick.

“It’s not like that at all,” he tried desperately to explain. “We only stopped for a quick drink and we’ve got places we need to be.”

The guy stepped forward, getting right into Jensen’s face. “Let me tell you something. You might think you’re better than me, but when was the last time you did a fucking honest day’s work? Huh? Lemme guess, it’s such a chore being paid thousands of dollars a day to play dress up. Fuck you, man.”

He poked Jensen hard in the chest. “You think you can just show up in our town and wave your money around like you’re a fucking king or something?”

The guy wasn’t even making sense anymore and that made Jensen even more uneasy. He’d obviously got himself worked up, and he was clearly drunk which meant that pretty much nothing Jensen said was going to make any difference.

He backed away slowly, jerking when the man’s hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Don’t you fucking walk away when I’m talking to you, you arrogant fuck.”

“Hey, you might want to let go of my friend right about now.”

Jensen had been so caught up in what was happening that he hadn’t even noticed Jared come up to them. He’d drawn himself up to his full height which was pretty damn scary at the best of times, never mind right now when it was coupled with an almost murderous glare.

The guy latched onto Jensen’s arm clearly wasn’t a total idiot because he let go of Jensen almost immediately, but he then turned his attention to Jared which Jensen knew was not going to end well.

“Jared, let’s go,” he said softly. “The guy’s drunk, just let him be.”

“Hiding behind your boyfriend?” drunk guy sneered. “Yeah, that figures. You Hollywood types are all a bunch of faggots.”

“Look,” Jared said calmly, even though Jensen could almost see the tension radiating off him. “We don’t want any trouble. Why don’t you just go back to your buddies and let us go back to ours and that can be the end of it.”

But the drunk was already calling over his shoulder. “Hey, guys, got a couple of Hollywood fairies here who think they can tell us what to do.”

Jared reacted quickly when ten people at the far end of the bar seemed to rise en masse and headed in their direction. He grabbed hold of Jensen’s arm and dragged him back towards their table.

“Come on, I think we need to get out of here.”

Tom, Michael and Misha were already on their feet, having apparently seen that something was happening.

“Shit, Jensen,” Michael laughed nervously. “I thought you were going for a piss, not starting a riot.”

“Maybe we should save this for the car,” Tom pointed out as they headed for the door.

Jensen came to a halt as he found the doorway blocked by several drunk and pissed off locals, but before he could do or say anything he found himself shoved unceremoniously behind Jared.

“Stay behind me,” Jared grunted over his shoulder. “Let me handle this.”

“Dude, I’m not a fucking girl,” Jensen hissed.

Tom strode forward and stood beside Jared, forming a protective shield in front of Jensen, Misha and Michael.

“We just want to leave,” Tom explained politely. “We only came in for a couple of beers.”

Only a complete idiot would fuck with Tom and Jared, being the size they were and physically fit on top of that. Which was why Jensen could only stare as the biggest member of the group staggered forward and took a swing, cheered on by his friends who quickly piled on top of them.

Jensen staggered backwards under the weight of several bodies and crashed into Misha who, in turn, fell into the wall.

“Shit, are you okay?” he groaned painfully as Misha’s elbow collided with his gut.

“Yeah,” Misha replied. “Where are the others?”

It was impossible to tell in the mass of flailing arms and legs. He could hear Michael yelling for Tom but couldn’t see anything. He pulled out his phone. “I’m calling the cops.”

Before he’d even finished punching 911 into his phone he spotted the flashing lights and heard the sirens. Apparently, someone else had got there first and it was amazing how fast ten drunk guys could run. By the time the cops actually got there, the place was practically empty.

Tom stood in the middle of the room, panting heavily, his shirt slightly ripped and what looked like the start of a black eye forming. Michael was at his side, looking a little rumpled but mostly okay.

“Where’s Jared?” Jensen’s eyes scanned the room, heart suddenly pounding when he realized he couldn’t see him. “Jared?”

“I lost him in the fight,” Tom said softly. “One minute he was next to me and then he wasn’t.”

Jensen cursed softly under his breath as the four of them started searching. It wasn’t a huge bar but more than a few tables and chairs had been busted up during the fight and there was a lot of crap strewn all over the floor.

Jensen almost puked when he overturned half a table and found Jared in a crumpled heap underneath it.

“Shit! Jared! Someone call an ambulance!”

Everything seemed to fade out after that. He was vaguely aware of the others around him but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. All he could focus on was Jared and how still he was. He didn’t dare try and move him in case he was badly hurt so instead he flitted his hands over Jared, trying to find any obvious injuries.

Jared let out a soft moan and curled in on himself when Jensen’s fingers ran over his head.

“Jared?” Jensen called hopefully. “Jared, can you hear me? It’s Jensen. Are you ok?”

“Jen…” Jared’s voice was soft and slurred but he stirred a little more and uncurled himself “H’ppened? Y’ok?”

Jensen let out a surprised laugh. “Me? Yeah, I’m ok. Don’t try to move, all right? There’s an ambulance on the way. Need to check how badly you’re hurt.”

“M’ok.”

He seemed more alert now and actually tried to sit up before Jensen pressed a hand to his shoulder. “Jesus, Jared, you must have a concussion or something if you’ve already forgotten that I told you not to move.”

“I’m ok,” Jared insisted now that he was fully aware of what was going on. “Just got a little banged up is all.”

“How about you let a doctor decide that, ok?” Jensen replied although he was already feeling relief that Jared did seem to be more or less in one piece. At least he was talking. That had to be a good sign.

“Is everyone else okay?” Jared asked.

Jensen glanced up. Michael was hugging Tom, apparently reassuring himself that he was okay. Misha was standing by the door, looking out for the ambulance.

“Tom’s a little banged up but the rest of us are fine, so quit worrying.”

Jared smiled and closed his eyes. “Good.”

The ambulance arrived a few minutes later and after a brief examination the paramedics decided that it was safe to move Jared, but that he should get checked out in the hospital just in case.

“You go with him,” Misha said as Jared was loaded into the ambulance. “We’ll take a cab and meet you there.”

Jensen hadn’t even considered that anyone apart from him would be riding with Jared, but he nodded his head and climbed in.

Jared flashed him a weak smile. “So, this part of the vacation kind of sucks.”

Jensen couldn’t agree more but he forced a smile. “Oh, I don’t know. It’ll be something to talk about when we get home.”

“And Misha can conduct a second test of the healthcare system. Man, I hope I don’t get one of those crappy sandwiches.”

Yet again, Jensen was lost and he really hoped it was just one of those jokes he was out of the loop on and not the result of some massive head trauma.

“Well, there’s no sign of any trauma,” the doctor announced after conducting an examination of Jared. “Just a minor concussion and a few bruises. Someone should stay with you tonight and wake you up every couple of hours and you’ll need to come back if you experience any blurred vision, nausea or dizziness.”

Jared flashed his best smile at the doctor and then grinned at Jensen. “Told you, man, I’ve got a solid head.”

Jensen let out a relieved sigh quietly and then grinned back. “Well, you need it with the number of times you walk into stuff. Come on, are you ready to get out of here?”

Jared nodded and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Uh…you want to give me some privacy while I get dressed?”

“What, you worried your hot body will be too much for my sensitive nerves to take?” Jensen forced a grin and had to will himself not to blush as he headed for the door, bolting before Jared could shoot back a reply.

Tom, Michael and Misha were sitting in the waiting area and looked expectantly at Jensen when he came out to join them.

“He’s fine. Someone needs to stay with him tonight but the doctor doesn’t think there’s any major damage.”

He glanced at Tom whose black eye was already starting to darken. “Shit, Tom, did you get someone to take a look at that?”

Tom waved an ice pack at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bruise. Thank god we don’t start filming for a few more weeks. The network would kill us if me and Jared showed up now.”

“Fuck the network,” Michael practically growled. “I’m just glad you’re ok.”

A sentiment Jensen matched exactly.

“Road trip is over,” Michael announced when Jared arrived a few minutes later. “We’re heading back to LA. You guys are welcome to stay with me for a few days once we get there but we’re not doing anything but sitting around and drinking.”

Jared’s shoulders slumped. “You don’t have to do that. I’m okay, and so is Tom. We shouldn’t ruin the trip because of a few assholes.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not okay,” Michael snapped. “You guys got fucked up because I dragged you out here. Now let’s find a hotel because I’m exhausted and I want to sleep.”

He walked out without waiting for anyone to speak and Tom sighed as they watched him go. “He’s just worried. I’ll talk to him.”

“Maybe going home isn’t such a bad idea,” Jensen suggested. “You and Jared should probably take it easy for a while.”

“Hey, I’m standing right here,” Jared pointed out. “I already said I’m fine.”

“You’d say you were fine if your intestines were hanging out,” Jensen shot back at him.

“Why don’t we just see how we feel in the morning,” Misha said gently. “We’re all tired.”

They all grumbled their assent and headed out after Michael.

Nobody questioned that Jensen would be the one to stay with Jared that night and they booked a twin room. Too exhausted to think about going out for food, they ordered room service, watched some crappy Vin Diesel movie on TV and then collapsed into their separate beds.

“I’m sorry you’re not going to get to sleep either,” Jared whispered into the darkness. “Maybe heading home tomorrow isn’t such a bad idea.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Jensen replied softly. “I’m just glad you didn’t get your brains beaten in or something. You should get some sleep. I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours.”

He heard Jared shift around in an effort to get comfortable.

“’Night, Jensen.”

“’Night.”

Each time Jensen’s alarm went off it was harder and harder for him to drag himself out of bed to wake Jared, although the relief he felt each time Jared assured him that he was alright soothed him a little. By morning Jensen was about ready to keel over and Jared didn’t look much better.

“I think we should stay here for another day,” Jared groaned as they staggered into the elevator to go down for breakfast. “We could just sleep all day and it would be awesome.”

Jensen simply grunted, having lost the power of speech a few hours earlier.

“You can sleep in the van,” Michael told them as Jensen inhaled one cup of coffee after another. “It’ll take us about three days to get back if we only stop for food and sleep.”

Tom shrugged helplessly. His left eye was now swollen and a dark shade of purple. Michael was doing a good job of looking at anything but it.

“Hey, so long as I can sleep I don’t care where it is,” Jared said into his own coffee.

Jensen’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Jared had seemed happy enough to carry on the trip before they went to bed last night but something had clearly changed his mind. He didn’t press the issue. He kind of wanted to go home, actually. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had fun, apart from last night, but he was sick of the hotels and Misha fucking with him. Anyway, he missed his stuff and the quiet of the house he shared with Jared.

“Yeah,” he finally agreed. “Sleeping in the van sounds good.”

Misha just shrugged and didn’t argue either way.

Jensen fell asleep as soon as he got into the van and didn’t even register Jared slumping against him. When he woke up he was warm and comfortable and had absolutely no desire to move. REO Speedwagon was playing softly, much more quietly than Michael’s usual volume and Jensen appreciated it, especially when he realized Jared was still sleeping beside him.

“What time is it?” he asked gently so as not to wake him. “Did I miss anything?”

“It’s coming up to lunchtime,” Tom replied. “We’re gonna stop in the next town we come to.”

“And avoid any bars,” Michael added darkly.

“You missed corn,” Misha chipped in. “Lots and lots of corn.”

Jensen glanced out of the window. More corn. Well, at least he hadn’t missed much.

“Hey, Jared, come on. You need to wake up and eat something.”

Jensen had been shaking Jared for about five minutes now and had so far got nothing beyond a few sleepy murmurs in response. Tom, Michael and Misha were already in the diner they had stopped at and were probably already eating. He’d briefly considered leaving Jared to sleep, except they wouldn’t be stopping again after this until they got a hotel for the night.

Jensen poked him in the ribs. “Come on, man, I mean it. Wake up.”

Jensen was starting to panic now. What if it was a concussion and he was in a coma or something?

Jensen was just reaching for his phone to call an ambulance when Jared finally stirred. “Jensen? What time is it?”

“Lunchtime. Come on, the others are already inside.”

Jared yawned and stretched, his back popping and giving Jensen a rather pleasant view of Jared’s bare stomach as his t-shirt hitched up.

“I’m starving,” Jared said around his yawn. “Come on, let’s eat.”

Jensen was reassured that no permanent damage had been done to Jared when he tucked in and ate three courses of food and went on to talk about taking more with them for the road.

“I’m gonna go stretch my legs for a few minutes before we go,” Jared announced after dinner as he gave his stomach a satisfied pat. “I’ll meet you guys at the van.”

“Is he okay?” Tom asked after Jared had left.

“Yeah, I think so.” Jensen replied. “It could have been a hell of a lot worse. Stupid fucker could have got himself killed.”

“You know he was just trying to protect you.” Tom flashed him a soft smile. “I heard him yelling that he wasn’t going to let anyone get near you.”

Jensen sighed. He’d been trying to avoid thinking about it ever since Jared had been hurt, especially since Jared seemed pretty damned determined not to talk about it.

“Guys, I need a minute. I’ll meet you out front.”

It didn’t take him long to find Jared, who had opted just to walk circuits around the back parking lot.

“Hey,” Jared greeted when he spotted Jensen walking towards him. “Come to get some exercise too? Man, I feel like I’ve been sitting down for a month.”

“How long have we known each other?” Jensen asked, cutting straight to the point. “Five years?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Jared replied and the smile faded from his lips as he spotted the dark look on Jensen’s face. “Why?”

“I was just wondering why, after five years of us working together and living together, you think I’m some delicate flower that needs protecting.”

“What? Jensen . . .”

“Jesus, Jared. Just let me talk, okay? Do you have any idea how scared I was when I found you under that table? I thought you were dead, hell you could have been, and all because you wanted to assert your masculinity or whatever. I’m not a girl, you know.”

“Oh, I know that,” Jared said with a dry laugh. “Believe me, I know. But you are my friend and I’m sorry if not wanting some drunk meat-head to beat the shit out of you gives you some sort of inferiority complex but I’m not going to apologize for the fact that you didn’t get hurt.”

“But you did!” Jensen exclaimed.

Jared sighed. “Look, I’m okay, Jensen. Really. Can we just not talk about this? I mean, what’s the point? It’s over, right? A few bruises and a mild concussion. It’s nobody’s fault. If I hadn’t stepped up then all of us would have wound up in hospital.”

“I just hate seeing you like this, man,” Jensen mumbled.

Jared flashed him a soft smile and drew Jensen into his arms and hugged him gently. “I know, but it’s okay. Come on, let’s go. The sooner we get back to LA the sooner we can forget about this and get wasted.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

It was almost midnight when they reached LA two days later, and Jensen was pretty sure he’d lost all feeling in his legs and back from sitting still for so long. He was also now acutely aware of just how little there was to see when you’re not stopping off in towns and cities to look at interesting things.

“Home sweet home,” Michael said as the van pulled to a stop. His voice was dry and raspy with exhaustion and Jensen could sympathise. No matter how wiped out the rest of them felt, it was nothing compared to Michael who had been driving solidly for three days and only stopping when they needed to eat or sleep.

The five of them stumbled into the house and up the stairs. Michael and Tom disappeared into Michael’s bedroom and Jensen, Jared and Misha made their way into the room they’d used before setting off on the trip. It seemed like an age ago but had only been less than two weeks.

Jared collapsed face first onto the bed with a grunt and was asleep almost instantly. Misha shot Jensen a tired smile. “Do you want to take that bed or the one in the loft?”

The fact that he was even asking and not devising some scheme so he had to share with Jared told Jensen just how tired Misha was. He glanced down at Jared and smiled at the way his hair flopped over his soft and relaxed face.

“I’ll stay here.”

Misha nodded and gave him a small grin. “Goodnight, Jensen.”

“’Night, Misha.”

He didn’t even bother changing out of his clothes. He was too damn tired. Instead he just kicked off his shoes, flopped down next to Jared and closed his eyes.

They all slept late into the afternoon the next day and Jensen didn’t wake up until the smell of cooking bacon hit him and his stomach rumbled.

“Mmm . . .” Jared murmured sleepily next to him. “Smells good.”

Jensen smiled. “Thought you’d be down there by now. I’ve never known anything get in the way of you and food before.”

“I’m comfy right here. D’you think you can get Misha to bring us some food? I don’t wanna move and you’re keeping me warm.”

Jensen glanced up at the loft and saw that Misha’s bed was empty. He chuckled. “Sorry, man. I don’t think Misha is going to bring us breakfast in bed. Besides, you kind of need to shower. You’re smelling a bit ripe there, buddy.”

“Fuck you,” Jared growled with a lazy smile. “You’re not exactly smelling like a bucket of roses yourself.”

Jensen grinned. “Ok, how about I go get us some food while you shower and then you can fill the dishwasher while I shower. I bet Rosey will have some sort of plan for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jared said around a yawn as he stretched. “I’ll see you downstairs, I guess.”

Jensen’s stomach let out another growl and it was enough to get him out of bed and downstairs.

Misha was in the kitchen, humming softly to himself as he cooked.

“You hungry?” he asked as Jensen padded in to join him. “I made plenty for everyone. Tom and Michael are already eating.”

“Sure, thanks. Jared’s just taking a shower and he should be down in a minute.”

Misha grinned as he handed Jensen a plate piled with food. “I won’t ask if anything happened this time because I know how out of it we all were last night.”

Jensen, as always, ignored him and headed into the dining room to join Tom and Michael.

“Hey there, Jenny!” Michael greeted with the first proper smile Jensen had seen since the bar in Ohio. “Sleep well? I’m having a party tonight to celebrate us getting home.”

The stream of words came out so fast that Jensen could barely keep up.

“A party? Wow, you don’t waste any time, do you?”

Tom grinned. “You weren’t here the time he decided to have a party thirty minutes before the guests started arriving.”

“Who’s having a party?” Jared asked around a mouthful of food as he and Misha headed in to join them. “Are we invited?”

“You’re the guests of honour,” Michael beamed cheerfully. “But that means you have to help me buy the booze. I’ve got caterers doing the food.”

Jensen faked shock. “You mean you don’t have enough booze in the house for a party? Are you losing it in your old age, man?”

Michael casually extended a middle finger and ignored him. “So, I take it you’re all sticking around for the party?”

Everyone nodded their assent.

“Awesome! This is going to be my best party yet.”

“He says that every time,” Tom replied with a grin.

“And I’m always right.”

Michael’s parties were infamous for being wild and crazy but Jensen had to admit it wasn’t as bad as some of Chad’s parties that Jared had dragged him to over the years. At least Michael wasn’t going around insisting that everyone was wearing too many clothes and refusing to let them in until they were sufficiently undressed. He had a drink in his hand, he was happy and no one was pressuring him to get naked. Life was pretty good.

“Jenny!” Michael slurred as Jensen made his way into the entertainment room, slinging an arm across his shoulders. “You’re just in time to sing some karaoke.”

“No thanks,” Jensen said as he tried to twist away from Michael’s hold. “I was just looking for Jared.”

“I’m right here,” Jared said from his sprawled position on the couch. “You missed me singing Duran Duran.”

“Now that I am sorry I missed.”

Michael grabbed hold of him. “So, now it’s your turn. Everyone who comes in here has to sing and I pick the songs. If Padalecki can do it, and he can’t sing for shit, then you can with your pretty voice.”

Before Jensen could argue there was a microphone in his hand and Michael was keying a song into the karaoke machine.

“You’ll thank me for this later,” he whispered as the song started to play.

I can’t fight this feeling any longer
And yet I’m still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship, has grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show

Jensen shot Michael a glare as he started to sing the words on the screen.

I tell myself that I can’t hold out forever
I said there is no reason for my fear
Cause I feel so secure when were together
You give my life direction
You make everything so clear

He was doing his best to look at anyone but Jared now. Because if he looked at Jared while he was singing, it was all over. Michael had known exactly what he was doing when he picked this song and Jensen was damn sure he was going to beat the shit out of him for it afterwards.

The thing was, he meant it. The damn song was pretty much exactly what he felt for Jared, and now he was having to sing it in front of a bunch of people he didn’t know as well as Jared himself. Really, beating the shit out of Michael was too good for him.

He finished the song and kept his eyes on the carpet the whole time, barely hearing the whoops and cheers.

“You were awesome!” Jared said as Jensen tried to make a hasty exit from the room. “Hey, are you ok? You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah,” Jensen mumbled. “I just need some air.”

“Shit, okay. I’ll come with you. Let me just get you some water.”

Jensen couldn’t really be mad at Jared for wanting to help but he just needed to be far, far away from him until he’d pulled himself together. He watched as Jared walked into the kitchen and headed out to the pool.

He took a deep breath once he was outside and searched around for a quiet corner to sit in for a while. He just needed a few minutes to not think about Jared or the fact that he had just sung his feelings in front of him like some cheesy musical.

There were a few people swimming lazily in the pool and others making out on the poolside loungers. His eyes widened as he recognised one of the people currently being straddled by a hot young guy that Jensen didn’t recognise.

“Holy shit! Misha!”

The words were barely more than a gasped whisper but they left Jensen’s lips just as Jared arrived with a glass of water in his hand.

His eyes followed Jensen’s and a moment later Jensen found the glass of water shoved into his hand as Jared stalked towards Misha and his companion. Jensen watched, more than a little confused as Jared sent the other guy packing and hauled Misha to his feet. He quickly put the glass down and hurried over to find out what was happening.

“I don’t give a shit what sort of open relationship you have with everyone else, but you can’t just make out with some random guy right in front of Jensen like that. It’s cruel, man.”

Jensen didn’t think he’d ever heard Jared sound as angry as he did right now.

“Jared,” Misha sounded calm and almost amused by the whole thing, “I really don’t think it’s any of your business who I choose to sleep with. Except now you’ve scared Ben away I’m going to need to find someone else.”

“Dude! Jensen is standing right here! Don’t you care?”

“About what?”

Jared’s fist shot out without warning and Jensen could only watch in horror as Misha stumbled backwards and collapsed onto the lounger he’d been lying on.

“Jesus Christ, Jared! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me?” Jared spluttered. “Jensen, seriously, I’ve tried not to say anything but he treats you like shit. The sex can’t be that good for you to put up with all this.”

Jensen blinked at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Come on, I’m not stupid. I’ve seen all the little private conversations you’ve been sneaking off to have, and you were snuggling in the tent back in Washington. I’d kind of hoped you’d just tell me about it but I guess you didn’t trust me enough or something.”

Jensen blinked at him again. “You think I’m sleeping with Misha?”

Jared glanced down at Misha who was rubbing his jaw and watching them curiously. “Uh, yeah?”

Jensen sighed. “You’re a fucking moron, Padalecki.”

He knelt down beside Misha and cupped his jaw gently, tilting his head so he could examine the spot where Jared had hit him. There was going to be a hell of a bruise in the morning. “Shit, man. Are you okay?”

“I’ve had worse,” Misha assured him. “Maybe you should tell him what we were talking about in all those private little chats though. You know, before he hits me again.”

Jensen glanced up to see Jared chewing on his lip.

“I’m not going to hit you again.” Jared murmured, sounding almost embarrassed as Jensen rose to his feet again.

“Come on,” he said, taking Jared by the arm. “We’re not talking about this here.”

They headed out to Michael’s front yard where there was a guy passed out on the front lawn but no one else around.

Jensen took a deep breath. “Ok, so you know I’m not fucking Misha, right?”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that out.”

Jensen glanced at Jared and the way he was looking at him, eyes warm and concerned. It wasn’t making this any easier.

“Well, the reason Misha and I were talking in private all the time is because he knows something I wasn’t comfortable sharing with anyone else.”

“Not even me?” Jared asked, sounding so damn hurt it almost broke him. “Jensen, you know you can tell me anything.”

“I know, and if it was anything else I would have. I just didn’t want to screw things up, you know?”

“Screw what up? Jensen you’re not making any sense.”

This was it. He had to do this now or he never would.

He took a deep breath, said a silent prayer and pulled Jared down into a kiss.

Jared pulled back a moment later, eyes wide with surprise. “Jensen?”

“Tell me you want this,” Jensen pleaded. “God, you drive me nuts. Wanted you for so long.”

It took Jared less than a second to respond, and he let out a soft moan as he kissed Jensen back. Jensen’s body trembled with sheer need as Jared pressed into him, grinding their hips together and letting Jensen know quite clearly that Jared was enjoying this.

“God, Jensen, why the hell did we wait so long to do this?” Jared whispered between kisses.

“Because we’re stupid,” Jensen panted back as he slid his hand underneath Jared’s t-shirt. “So fucking stupid.”

Jared grunted his agreement and cupped Jensen’s ass with his hands.

“Jen, I want you. Waited too long for this.”

Jensen couldn’t agree more. “Come on. Bedroom. Now.”

They clung to each other as they stumbled back into the house, neither of them willing to relinquish contact now they had it. Navigating up the stairs was tricky but they made it and fell into the bedroom, clutching at each other and tugging at their clothes as soon as the door closed behind them.

Jensen pulled Jared towards the bed but stopped when he saw something on top of the covers that most definitely hadn’t been there earlier in the day. It was a box of condoms, a bottle of lube and a note.

Heading home for a couple of days. Enjoy the rest of your night. See you back on set.
Misha

Jared let out an unhappy groan. “Man, I can’t believe I hit him.”

“We’ll make it up to him,” Jensen whispered. “If I’d talked to you about this when Misha first told me to . . .”

Jared kissed him. “We’re here now, right? That’s all that matters.”

They finished undressing slowly and Jensen took in every inch of Jared’s flesh as he lay down on the bed. He was an Adonis. There was no other way to describe him with his long, lean body, taut muscles and eager smile.

“Are you just gonna stand there and stare?” Jared asked with a shy grin.

“It’s tempting,” Jensen replied. “Do have any idea how you look? God, I wish I had my camera.”

Jared’s grin widened. “You can take all the photos you like. Next time. Now come here.”

The bed dipped as Jensen knelt down and crawled up to Jared.

“Hi,” he whispered gently.

“Hi yourself.”

Jensen stroked his hand along Jared’s inner thigh until he reached his prize, lips curling at the soft gasps Jared was making as he stroked him.

“You know, it would be rude not to use the presents Misha left for us.”

“Yeah,” Jared agreed with a strangled moan. “Very rude.”

Jensen leaned in and nipped Jared’s earlobe with his teeth. “Roll over.”

Jared did as he was asked and for a few moments Jensen just drank in the sight of him as he skimmed his hands over Jared’s back. He picked up the lube, making a mental note to buy Misha anything he wanted when they got back to Vancouver, and slicked up his hand.

He felt Jared quiver beneath him as he slowly opened him up, taking his time to explore Jared’s body. He wanted this to last, for every moment and memory to be etched into his brain.

“Feels good, Jen,” Jared moaned softly. “So fucking good.”

Jensen pressed a kiss to the base of Jared’s spine and opened one of the condoms, sliding it on before he got to his knees.

“I’m ready for you, Jen. Need to feel you inside me.”

Jared arched his back as Jensen entered him, letting out a strangled moan and fisting his hands in the bed sheet.

“Christ, Jen. Yeah.”

Jensen started to increase his momentum under Jared’s encouragement, thrusting inside him and wrapping one hand around to stroke Jared’s cock at the same time. He was such a fucking idiot for denying himself this for so long. Jared was hot beneath him, the sweat from his back and Jensen’s chest fusing them together into one being.

“Faster,” Jared groaned beneath him. “Go faster.”

He tightened his grip on Jared and increased his pace, his breath coming in ragged gasps as Jared writhed underneath him.

“Jared, I’m gonna . . .”

“It’s ok, me too,” Jared gasped.

Jensen thrust again and let out a strangled moan as he came. A moment later Jared spurted onto his hand and collapsed beneath him.

They lay there for a few minutes, gasping for breath until Jensen slowly withdrew and disposed of the condom in the nearby trashcan.

“I’m gonna buy Misha a house,” Jared announced as they lay side by side in the tangled sheets. “Or a plane or something. Maybe a pony.”

Jensen nodded and pressed a kiss to Jared’s shoulder. “I’ll chip in for that.”

Jared smiled and pulled Jensen into his arms. “You know, even though you got sick and I got beat up this was a pretty fucking awesome vacation.”

“Mmm . . .” Jensen murmured sleepily. “Not as awesome as right now, though.”

“We should totally do it again.”

Jensen grinned. “I like your thinking, but you need to give me a few minutes recovery time.”

“Jackass. I meant the trip. We could go and see all the places we missed out on by cutting it short.” He paused for a moment. “Although I’m totally ok with us fucking again too.”

“Atta boy.”

As Jared leaned over and kissed him, slowly and lazily, Jensen was struck by just how right this felt. It was like he’d just found some part of himself that he hadn’t even realized was missing.

And now that he’d found it, there was no way in Hell he was ever letting go.

Soundtrack

Fic: Take My Hand (And Lead Me Through The Fire) (2/2)

2009-10-04T02:16:30Z

“You ok in there, Cas?” Dean called through the closed door a while later.

“Yes, thank you.” It had taken him a while to figure out the controls of the shower, getting a burst of freezing cold water followed by scalding hot water before he’d eventually gotten it right. Now he was standing under a stream of warm, bordering on hot, water he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to leave. He had no idea something so simple could feel so wonderful.

“You’re gonna have to come out soon,” Dean called again.

Castiel sighed. He was hiding and he knew it. He suspected that Dean knew it too.

He shut off the shower and wrapped a towel around himself.

“There’s clothes just outside the door,” Dean said once he heard the water being shut off.

Castiel opened the door a crack and to see that Dean had his back to the door and the clothes were in a neat pile on the floor.

“Thank you,” he said softly as he picked up the clothes and took them into the bathroom with him.

Dressing was a strange experience and not just because he’d never had to do it before. These were Dean’s clothes and as he pulled them on, he was struck with the strange sense of loss. He no longer appeared as he always had when in his host’s body. He looked different. He was different and he had no idea what to do about it.

He smoothed down the Metallica t-shirt and stepped out of the bathroom. Dean took one look at him and grinned.

“What?” Castiel asked, looking down at himself self-consciously. “Have I done something wrong?”

“What? Oh, no.” Dean said. “It’s just the clothes aren’t really you.”

“No,” Castiel agreed. “They’re you.”

“And there’s only room for one of me in the world, because I’m so awesome.”

“Yes,” Castiel said with a small smile. “You are.”

Sam arrived back at that moment, putting a stop to any further conversation.

“You look better,” he exclaimed when he saw Castiel.

“I feel better now that I’ve had a shower, thank you.”

“The clothes aren’t really you though,” Sam added as he set down his supplies and set about examining Castiel.

“That’s what I said,” Dean grinned. “You just missed Cas agreeing about how awesome I am. He never would have said that when he was still an angel.”

Castiel felt a strange heat on his face and he lowered his eyes. “I might have, if you’d asked me.”

“It’s mostly just cuts and bruises,” Sam said. “Not much to do about them really. None of them need stitches.”

“I feel much better now,” Castiel assured him. “I think I just need to rest.”

“Take my bed,” Dean offered immediately and Sam shot him an amused smile. “What? It’s not like either of us has never slept in the car before. Those back seats are more comfortable than some beds we’ve had.”

“I don’t want to take away your bed,” Castiel said even though his body was already crying out for the soft mattress and warm blankets.

“Guys,” Sam sighed exasperatedly. “We’re all adults here. No one needs to sleep in the car. We’ve got two queen sized beds here. There’s plenty of room. Two of us just have to share.”

The silence that filled the room was so dense that it felt almost suffocating. A moment passed and the silence was finally broken by Dean.

“You don’t want to share with Sam,” he said almost too casually as he moved all his things over to one side of the bed. “He flails like a toddler. Probably punch you in his sleep or something and the last thing you need is more bruises.”

Sam shrugged helplessly. “It’s true.”

“You. . .” Dean cleared his throat. “You can either share with me, or I can bunk with Sam. Whatever you want.”

Castiel eyed the bed for a moment before looking back at Dean whose eyes were fixed firmly on the wall opposite.

“I wouldn’t want you to get punched in your sleep by your own brother. I’m happy to share with you.”

Dean grinned and Castiel moved around to the other side of the bed sitting down carefully. This wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined spending his first night on Earth as a human, and while he didn’t object to sharing a bed with Dean in the slightest it felt slightly strange that they were doing so before Castiel had told Dean how he felt about him.

“I hope you don’t snore by the way,” Dean said as he pulled some sleeping clothes out his bag.

“I don’t know,” Castiel replied. “You’ll have to tell me in the morning.”

Dean snorted and shook his head. “That’s gotta be the only time I’ve heard that line from someone who wasn’t a girl . . . or me . . . or a porn star.”

Dean didn’t seem to mind though and if Castiel had been less tired he’d have sworn there was a slight bounce to Dean’s step as he walked into the bathroom.

“Are you all right, really?” Sam asked once the bathroom door had closed.

“Yes, thank you.” Castiel replied. “Aside from my physical injuries I feel fine.

“Well, that’s good.”

Castiel moaned as he slid into bed. The softness felt so good against his bruised and aching body. Tomorrow he would talk to Dean and tell him everything but right now, he just wanted to sleep.

* * *

He must have fallen asleep almost immediately because the next thing he knew there was light filtering through the curtains and Dean’s face was a few inches away from his own. Castiel blinked in surprise and then a soft smile curled at his lips.

He’d watched Dean sleep before, more times than he cared to admit in fact, but he’d never allowed himself to get this close. He could actually count the individual freckles that spattered across his nose and cheeks. Every time Dean exhaled, Castiel felt a warm puff of air across his face.

He could feel his body already reacting to Dean’s closeness and it startled him a little. There wasn’t much about the human body that he did not know, but experiencing it first hand was an entirely different matter. He felt hot, and tingly and slightly uncomfortable, but not in a bad way.

He lay there for a few minutes, just watching Dean and listening to him breathe. If every morning could start like this it was worth the pain of falling, he decided. He was warm, comfortable and felt a sense of peace that he had not experienced in a long time. All of this just from being close to Dean.

His stomach rumbled and it occurred to Castiel that he was going to have to eat and drink properly now that he was human, but he had no idea what he actually liked or disliked. The only thing he knew so far was that he didn’t like greasy burgers. His whole life was now a blank canvas which he was going to have to color. At least he had Dean here with him. Knowing that he wasn’t alone made the task slightly less daunting.

He heard Sam get up and stagger into the bathroom and he waited until the door had closed and he heard the shower running before turning his attention back to Dean. His lips were parted slightly as he breathed and Castiel ached to brush his fingertips over them, or stroke his hair. He just wanted to touch Dean, and found that the urge became stronger the closer he was to the hunter . He knew it wasn’t appropriate though, not while Dean was sleeping, so instead he started counting Dean’s freckles while he waited for Sam to finish.

* * *

He’d reached one hundred and forty seven freckles when Sam came back into the bedroom. Dean’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Sam rummaging through one of the bags and he looked confused for a moment when he saw Castiel before a smile spread over his face.

“Well, you don’t snore.”

Castiel couldn’t help but smile back. “That’s. . . good to know.”

For a moment they just lay there, facing each other with dumb smiles on their faces until Castiel’s stomach rumbled again.

“Sounds like someone needs breakfast. What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel said sheepishly as Dean got out of bed and started pulling some clothes out of his bag. Castiel was already mournfully missing the warmth and comfort of having Dean beside him. “I’ve never had breakfast before.”

“Awesome!” Dean beamed as he pulled off his t-shirt and reached for a clean one. Castiel found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Dean’s bare torso. “That means you get to try everything and that I get to eat the stuff you don’t like. It’s win-win.”

“But what if I don’t like the same things you don’t like?” Castiel asked doubtfully.

Sam chuckled from the other bed and Castiel was ashamed to say he’d actually forgotten the other Winchester brother was there. “You’ve met Dean, right? There’s nothing he won’t eat.”

Dean shrugged. “Some of us just have a healthy appetite, Sammy. Now, since you’re already showered and dressed why don’t you haul ass and get us some breakfast. Lots of it.”

“Fine,” Sam sighed, catching the car keys as Dean tossed them to him. “I’ll be back soon.”

Castiel eased himself out of bed once Sam was gone, letting out a soft moan as his aching muscles made themselves known.

“You ok?” Dean asked. “I mean apart from the whole not being an angel anymore thing. Which we will be talking about by the way.”

Castiel sighed. “I want to tell you about it, Dean. I do. I just need a little time. This is all new to me. I have all of these . . . feelings . . . and I don’t know what they all mean. I don’t know if I’m tired or hungry or bored.”

“Well, talking about feelings is kind of more Sam’s area but I can try and help,” Dean replied. “Like, tell me how you’re feeling right now.”

Castiel looked at Dean, his eyes focused on the hunter’s mussed hair and pillow creases on his cheek. The aching feeling in his chest was back again and he took a step closer to Dean.

“I feel. . .” He struggled to find the words.

At that point, Dean’s phone rang and Castiel sighed as the moment was lost.

“What?” Dean snapped when he answered. “Sam, what part of bring a bit of everything did you not understand? That includes coffee, tea and juice. Yeah, ok. Bye.”

He threw the phone back onto the table with a growl before flashing Castiel an apologetic grin.

“Sam says he’ll be back in a few minutes.”

* * *

During breakfast Castiel decided that he liked tea, orange juice, pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon but that he did not like coffee, sausages or hash browns.

“Well, that’s a good start,” Dean said as he plowed into all the food that was left. Castiel watched with a morbid sense of fascination as Dean practically shoveled food into his mouth.

“What?” Dean asked around a mouthful of eggs when he caught Castiel watching him.

“Don’t you make yourself sick eating like that?” Castiel asked in wonder.

“Oh, I think Dean’s body is pretty much immune to anything he throws at it now,” Sam laughed.

Dean tossed a plastic fork at Sam’s head and carried on eating.

“Feel like indulging in a bit of retail therapy after breakfast?” Dean asked. This time he did them courtesy of waiting until his mouth was empty before speaking.

“You want to go shopping?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Really? You?”

“What? Cas needs clothes. There’s no way in Hell I’m letting you take him and have him come back looking like an Abercrombie and Fitch commercial.”

Sam flipped him off and addressed Castiel instead. “Just don’t let him bully you into buying things you don’t like, ok?”

“Hey, I’m not some sort of fashion Nazi,” Dean huffed. “Cas can buy whatever he wants.”

Castiel nodded his head in agreement, although he was fairly sure he’d be happy with a duplicate of the clothes he’d ruined when he fell. He was willing to try though. Just as with the food, he needed to find out what he liked.

“You ready to go, Cas?”

“Yes,” he replied.

As ready as he would ever be at least.

* * *

He had never felt more lost in his life, even with Dean Winchester at his side. The rails of clothing seemed to go on for miles and he had no idea where to even begin.

“It’s not that bad,” Dean assured him. “Come on, relax. We already know that band t-shirts and plaid are out. How do you feel about jeans?”

Castiel shifted around a little, testing the fabric and trying desperately not to think about the fact that they were Dean’s jeans he was wearing.

“I find the material a little stiff,” he finally admitted.

Dean grinned. “Yeah, I guess they would feel that way after you’re used to wearing dress pants.”

After he pulled off a few different kinds of slacks, some made of a tougher khaki fabric for when he needed to hunt, Dean picked out some plain button down shirts and a couple of thin sweaters.

“Try these on and see what you think.”

He took the clothes and ducked into a nearby changing cubicle. It took him a surprisingly short amount of time to decide that he liked the color blue. There was something comforting about it, so he put aside a blue shirt and a blue sweater and tried them on with a pair of black pants.

“Do I look acceptable?” He asked Dean who was waiting outside. He felt that strange heat in his face again when Dean simply stared at him for a moment with his mouth slightly open and Castiel had to fight the urge to run back inside and change into something else.

“You look good,” Dean finally said with a small smile.

Castiel smiled in return. “I like them. Do you think it would be all right if I wore them home?”

“Desperate to get out of my clothes already?” Dean asked with a smirk.

His grin faded as Castiel blushed and he cleared his throat. “Sure, that’s not a problem. Just grab the other things you want and I’ll go and pay.”

* * *

“Thank you for the clothes,” Castiel said as they walked through the dimly lit underground parking lot towards Dean’s car.

“No problem,” Dean replied. “Trust me, you should just be glad it was me who came with you and not Sam.”

“I am glad it was you,” Castiel said earnestly. “I would be lost without you.”

It was time, he decided, to have another attempt at the conversation they had started in the motel room that morning.

“Dean,” he said cautiously as they reached the car. “I need to tell you why I chose to fall.”

Dean fell completely still, his hand froze in his pocket where he had been reaching for his car keys.

“It’s not a decision I made lightly,” Castiel continued when he received no response from Dean. “I’ve lost almost everything that I have ever known, but it was worth it because—“

A strange clicking sound stopped him mid-sentence and his eyes widened when he saw the man standing behind Dean pointing a gun at them both. Even in the dim light, he could see the red-rimmed eyes and trembling hands, having watched humans long enough to recognize the signs of drug abuse.

“Gimme your wallets,” the man rasped, “and your car keys and nobody needs to get hurt.”

Castiel watched Dean take a deep, steadying breath before he turned around slowly so that they were both facing the robber.

“Take it easy, okay?” Dean said carefully as he raised his hands. Castiel tensed when he saw Dean subtly moving so that he was between him and the gunman.

“Dean, I think we should do as he says,” Castiel softly. “There is no sense in getting hurt over material things.”

His voice might have been calm but he could feel his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. He had known fear when he had been an angel, but the fear he felt now was almost crippling. He had seen how men under the influence of drugs acted; they were irrational and could not be reasoned with. There was a distinct possibility that they were going to die, less than twenty-four hours after he’d become human.

What was worse was that the fear he felt was less for himself and more for Dean, who was reckless and often acted without thinking. It was up to him to stop that from happening.

Unfortunately, the gunman heard his words to Dean and moved his attention to Castiel instead, pointing the gun over Dean’s shoulder and at his head.

“You first. Gimme your wallet.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said with all the regret he was feeling in his heart. “I don’t have a wallet.”

“Don’t fuck with me!” There was a definite edge of hysteria to his voice now. “Do you want to die? Do you want your boyfriend here to die? Just give me your fucking wallet!”

Castiel felt nauseous now. He had nothing to give this man. No wallet, no keys, no watch. All he had were the clothes on his back.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Here!” Dean interrupted, reaching into his pocket. “Take whatever you want, man.”

That was when everything seemed to suddenly slow down.

Castiel heard the shot before anything else and he toppled backwards as Dean crashed into him. He cracked his head against the car door and for a moment, everything faded away into nothingness.

When he came to his senses, he could hear the pounding of feet as the robber ran away.

“He’s gone,” Castiel sighed in relief. “Dean?”

That was when he realized that Dean was still slumped on top of him and that he wasn’t moving.

“Dean?”

He winced as pain flared through his head when he moved but he carefully sat up and eased Dean off him.

The nauseous fear that he had felt while having a gun pointed at him flared up into a cold terror as he took in Dean’s appearance. His eyes were closed, his face was far too pale and there was a red stain blossoming across his chest.

For a moment, the fear and shock completely paralyzed him and all that he could do was stare at the blood.

“No,” he whispered mostly to himself. “No, this can’t be happening.”

He glanced around the parking lot, eyes pleading for someone to come and help them but there was no one.

“Please,” he called half to Dean and half to the darkness. “Please, help me.”

There was no reply.

“PLEASE!” He called more loudly as his senses slowly returned to him. “Please, someone help me!”

He knew he had to stop the bleeding or Dean was going to die right here, cold and without his brother. He grabbed the blue shirt from the fallen shopping bag and bunched it up before pressing it firmly over the wound.

Dean let out a small groan but showed no signs of waking.

“Please, Dean,” Castiel pleaded as he attempted to staunch the bleeding. “You can’t leave me. Not like this.”

“Help is coming, Castiel.”

He flinched at the presence of the new voice and his head shot up to find Anna crouching down beside him. There was a time when he would have been able to sense her before she arrived but those days were gone.

Her eyes were warm with concern as she placed her hands over his and helped him slow the bleeding.

“I’ve told Sam what happened and he’s called for an ambulance. It should be here in a few minutes.”

Castiel glanced down at Dean. His own hands were red with Dean’s blood now and Dean’s face was getting paler by the moment.

“Please,” he begged. “Can you do anything for him?”

“You know I can’t,” Anna replied sadly. “His fate is in God’s hands now.”

Dean would hate that, Castiel was sure. He always believed in making his own fate and although he had served God in the Holy War, it was to protect humanity rather than anything divine.

“Am I being punished?” He asked softly. “Is Dean being taken as punishment for my decision to fall?”

“You know He doesn’t work like that,” Anna said gently.

“I was about to tell him,” Castiel said softly. “I was about to tell him everything and if he dies . . .”

“So tell him,” Anna said rising to her feet. “It’s not too late.”

Castiel blinked and in that moment, Anna was gone. He turned his attention back to Dean and swallowed against the lump that had formed in his throat.

“I did this for you,” he whispered, ignoring the tears that were now rolling down his cheeks. “I’m only just starting to learn how to live as a human and I already know that a life without you in it is no life at all. So, you can’t leave me Dean. You still have so much to teach me and I have so much to learn. I can’t imagine doing it without you. I’m here because I wanted to be closer to you, to truly feel, and even if you don’t share the feelings I have for you I don’t regret my decision. My only regret will be losing you, so, please, you have to live.”

He could hear the wail of the ambulance sirens now, but Dean remained unresponsive.

Castiel did the only thing he could do.

He prayed.

* * *

Everything was moving too fast now.

The ambulance arrived and the paramedics quickly took Dean from him and Castiel found himself bundled into the ambulance alongside him.

“Is he going to be all right?” Castiel asked weakly as he watched Dean being hooked up to far too many machines.

“We’re doing our best to help him,” one of the paramedics assured him but that was all they were willing to say on the matter.

Once Dean was secure and the ambulance was on the move Castiel bowed his head and resumed his prayers.

* * *

Dean was wheeled away as soon as they arrived at the hospital and Castiel found himself with a young doctor who set about checking his head wound.

“Does this hurt?”

Castiel could only shake his head. The truth was he felt numb and all that he could think about was Dean. He could barely bring himself to look at Sam when he was shown in by a nurse.

“How is he?” Sam’s eyes widened when he took in Castiel’s appearance. “How bad is it?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel replied weakly.

He felt more exhausted than he’d ever felt before, more so even than when he had fallen. Right now he felt as though he could simply collapse right there in the middle of the room and not wake up until he knew Dean was going to be all right.

“I’ll see if I can find out what’s happening.”

Castiel watched until Sam disappeared from sight, barely hearing the doctor tell him that his own injuries were superficial. He found himself steered out into the waiting area where he stood and waited for Sam to return

“He’s in surgery,” Sam said and Castiel had no idea how much time had actually passed. “Apparently we won’t know anything for a few hours at least.”

He handed Castiel a paper cup and guided him over to one of the plastic chairs as they both sat down. “I brought you some juice. You should drink it. It’ll help with the shock.”

Right now, the idea of eating or drinking anything was so far from Castiel’s thoughts it didn’t even bear considering. But he appreciated that Sam was trying to help, even when he was worried about his brother, so he sipped the juice delicately and together they waited.

“Do you want me to see if I can find you some clean clothes?” Sam asked after a few minutes.

He glanced down at himself and noticed for the first time that his shirt was covered with Dean’s blood. Dean’s life.

“Dean liked this shirt,” he murmured softly, mostly to himself.

Sam said nothing more on the subject.

They sat there, side by side, waiting in silence until eventually a doctor came out to them.

“Your brother is very lucky,” she told Sam, and Castiel barely heard anything beyond that. He caught snippets of “missed his vital organs” and “lost a lot of blood” but the rest was just a rushing noise inside his head.

“Can we see him?” Sam asked which snapped Castiel back to attention. He didn’t care what the doctor said now, and he suspected Sam didn’t either. They needed to see Dean and nothing was going to get in the way of that.

“He’s still unconscious but he could wake up at any moment. You’re welcome to sit with him if you’d like.”

Sam took the lead with Castiel close behind him; all of the forces of Hell couldn’t stop them from getting to that room.

He froze when he entered the doorway. Dean lay in bed, face still too pale, hooked up to so many machines that Castiel could barely see where they ended and Dean began. Sam took a seat by his brother’s side, his eyes fixed permanently on Dean’s face as though he could use sheer force of will to get him to wake up.

“I’ll have someone find another chair,” the doctor said but Castiel barely heard her. “I know it looks scary but it really could have been a lot worse.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Sam said softly and as the doctor left the room the only sound that remained was the steady beat of Dean’s heart monitor. It was a comforting sound in that it reassured them that Dean was still alive but at the same time, it was a constant reminder of where they were and why they were there.

“I’ve been here too many times,” Sam mused after a few minutes. “I don’t understand why these things keep happening to him. He’s been in the hospital more times in the past five years than I have in my entire life.”

Castiel shook his head sadly. “I wish I had answers for you, Sam, but I don’t. The truth is that I’m struggling to understand this just as much as you are.”

He took Dean’s limp hand in his, needing to reassure himself of Dean’s warmth

“Did you tell him?” Sam asked as he watched what Castiel was doing.

“No,” Castiel replied. “I had just started to when this happened. I told him while we were waiting for the ambulance but he was unconscious.”

“Well, maybe he heard you,” Sam suggested. “They say that when people are in comas they can hear you.”

“That’s not actually true,” Castiel said flatly. “It’s just something that’s said to provide comfort to those who are still awake.”

“Oh.”

They sat there in silence for a while, Castiel letting the steady beat of the heart monitor soothe him as he brushed his thumb rhythmically over the back of Dean’s hand.

“Can I ask you something?” Sam finally asked.

“If you wish.”

“Was it worth it? You’ve seen for yourself what we’re capable of. All that hatred and violence. I don’t get why you would want to be a part of that. Dean could have died and you’d have been left here less than a day after falling to be with him.”

Castiel considered it for a moment, although he had been thinking of little else since he had been left in the hospital waiting room.

“Isn’t that what being human means though?” He finally asked. “Human life is filled with uncertainty. Yes, we nearly lost Dean today, but we didn’t. Yes, there are some people whose lives revolve around violence and hatred but there are also those who radiate love and warmth. You have to understand, Sam, that as an angel I felt very little of anything. There were the occasional moments of doubt and regret but that’s all.

Then I met Dean and everything changed. I fell in love, or at least as close to love as an angel can feel. It was enough for me to know I wanted to fall and be with him. But what I feel now, the real and human love I feel for your brother, is absolutely worth the risk that uncertainty brings.”

“Wow,” Sam breathed. “You really love him, don’t you. I mean I knew but . . . wow.”

Castiel nodded. “The love I feel for Dean is stronger than any other emotion I have ever felt, even stronger than the fear I have of losing him.”

At that moment, he felt Dean’s hand twitch beneath his own and then Dean let out a soft moan.

“Dean?” Sam called hopefully, leaning forward in his seat. “Are you awake? Can you hear me?”

“Well, I’m sure as Hell not dead,” Dean groaned, his voice dry and raspy. “Dead doesn’t feel this bad.”

Sam sighed in relief as Dean opened his eyes and he quickly fed him a few ice chips to help soothe his throat. “Damn, it’s good to hear your voice.”

Dean raised his head slightly. “Is Cas here? I thought I heard him.”

“I’m here, Dean,” Castiel said, giving Dean’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m gonna go and find the doctor,” Sam quickly hurried out of the room.

“You okay?” Dean asked, dropping his head back onto the pillow. “That son of a bitch didn’t hurt you did he? You look like crap.”

“I’m uninjured,” Castiel assured him. He certainly wasn’t going to tell Dean that he was all right, because that would be a lie. He felt like his soul had been ripped to pieces and then hurriedly stuck back together again. He wanted to sleep for at least a week, but not until Dean was out of the hospital and lying beside him.

“Looks like we’re going to have to go shopping again when I get out of here,” Dean chuckled.

“I’m just glad you’re all right,” Castiel said. “I was so worried that I was going to lose you.”

“Nah, takes more than one lousy bullet to put me down,” Dean assured him and Castiel knew Dean was just trying to make him feel better. He appreciated the attempt even if he didn’t believe him.

“So . . .” Dean continued after a moment. “I heard what you said to Sam about why you fell and if it was worth it.”

Castiel’s thumb stilled where it has still been stroking Dean’s hand. “Oh.”

He wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to say to that. Dean didn’t seem disgusted by the notion that Castiel loved him, but it was possible that was only because he was too exhausted to do anything else.

“Does that . . . is it a bad thing?” Castiel asked hesitantly, fearing what the answer was going to be.

“No,” Dean said softly, squeezing his hand around Castiel’s fingers. “Pretty damn far from it actually. No one has ever said anything like that about me before.”

He paused for a moment, apparently considering his words carefully before deciding to continue. “I’ve never been good at this sort of thing. Well, you’ve seen me, you know. I’m not a good person, Cas. I lie, cheat, steal, screw anything that looks my way and the things I did when I was in Hell . . .”

“I’ve already told you, those actions have been forgiven.” Castiel said gently.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Dean replied. “You act like those things aren’t a big deal when I know they are. You don’t seem to care about it at all.”

“I care.” Castiel raised Dean’s fingers to his lips and kissed them gently. “I care because that is part of who you are, Dean, and I love you because of those things not in spite of them. And the fact that you’re worried about this tells me just what sort of man you really are.”

“You want to know when I first realized that maybe you weren’t a total dick?” Dean asked with a small smile. “Halloween, when we were in the park after the whole Samhain thing. I remember I cracked some lame joke and you sort of smiled. That was when I realized you weren’t some soulless thing and then the way you looked at me when I kissed Anna.”

“I was jealous,” Castiel confirmed, “That she had been close to you and I knew I never would be.”

“And look at us now,” Dean smiled, glancing down at their clasped hands. “This is what I’m trying to say, Cas. You’ve never been like the rest of the angels, not even Anna. You always try to do the right thing, and when that meant disobeying everything you’d ever known you did it. You risked everything and that’s why I. . . why I want to be with you.”

The sheer force of emotion that flooded through Castiel was nearly enough to knock him from his chair. He had hoped and prayed that Dean would return his feelings but he’d never really imagined it would be possible. For one brief moment, he wondered whether it was possibly to die of happiness, because he felt as though he was close to that right now.

“So . . . would it be all right if I kissed you?” He asked shyly, his voice soft and filled with hope.

Dean actually laughed and Castiel felt all the joy he’d been feeling draining away in an instant. “I’m sorry. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“What?” Dean asked. “Oh, shit, I do! I’m sorry, Cas. It’s just if you knew how long I’d been waiting to hear you ask that then you’d know how funny it was. Now get over here.”

Castiel leant forward and pressed his lips to Dean’s. It was a chaste kiss at first until Dean let out a soft moan and deepened it, slipping his tongue into Castiel’s mouth and exploring it fully.

It was Castiel’s first kiss and if he’d been worried about not knowing what to do, those fears quickly melted away as he responded on instinct to Dean. A warmth flooded through him that surpassed the way he’d felt when he’d woken up beside the hunter that morning. He found that he wanted to do so much more than just kiss Dean but unfortunately, those thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the doctor with Sam not far behind.

“Well, you’re obviously feeling better,” she smiled as she set about examining her patient. Sam simply smirked from the doorway as he watched.

Eventually, the doctor said that they would need to keep Dean for a couple of days to monitor him but barring any complications, which looked unlikely, he would be free to go after that so long as he got plenty of rest.

“Well,” Sam said once the doctor had left them. “I think I’m gonna go and crash at the motel now I know you’re ok. Don’t ever scare me like that again, dude. At least not for a while.”

“I’ll do my best, bro,” Dean promised. “Cas should go with you though. He’s going to need his strength for what I have planned when I get out of here.”

The grin Dean flashed him was positively wicked and Castiel couldn’t help but smile in return. Dean Winchester was back.

“Dude,” Sam groaned, “I am so getting my own room.”

“Probably for the best, Sammy,” Dean said as he winked at Castiel. “Cas and I will be doing it on every available surface in our room, including your bed.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Castiel laughed. His first real laugh since falling. This was what being human meant, and he had never been more glad to be a part of it

The End.

Fic: Take My Hand (And Lead Me Through The Fire) (1/2)

2009-10-04T02:14:13Z

Title: Take My Hand (And Lead Me Through The Fire)
Author: hils
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: All through S4. Speculation on the end of S5 but no spoilers
Word Count: 11,715
Summary: Castiel falls and realizes that being human means maybe losing everything he ever wanted
Notes: Written for the deancastiel Renegade Angels challenge.
Thanks to bellajayd for the amazing beta job

The realization came to him at an inconvenient time. They were facing down Lucifer and his army with Dean at the front, flanked on the right by Sam, with Castiel standing to his left. It was almost dawn, but even in the muted light Castiel could see the determined set of Dean’s jaw and the righteous anger blazing in his eyes. Every second since Lucifer had risen had been geared towards this moment and the tension in the air was almost suffocating.

“You ready, Sam?” Dean asked in a voice that was gritty and exhausted.

“Ready,” Sam replied, sounding no better than his brother.

Dean nodded. “You and the angels ready, Cas?”

“Yes,” Castiel replied and he ached to touch Dean and offer some small amount of comfort.

The odds were not good; he knew that, they all did. Two hunters, a few of their friends and a dozen or so renegade angels could not possibly hope to stop Lucifer and all the demonic hordes that followed him. They had all sworn to follow Dean and try though.

Better to die fighting than do nothing at all.

Dean flexed his fingers around the hilt of the sword he was carrying. It was the one ray of hope that they had. A holy weapon for a holy war. He clenched his jaw and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

And that was when Castiel realized that he was in love with Dean Winchester, and they charged before he could even think about doing anything about it.

* * *

“Cas? Cas!”

He could hear Dean’s voice cutting through the haze and knew that he should answer, but he was just so tired and he couldn’t even find the strength to open his eyes. If he just rested a little while longer, he would be fine.

Dean, apparently, had other ideas. “Cas, I swear if you don’t open your eyes right now I am going to kick your ass so hard!”

He was a little more alert now, and somewhere in the back of his mind was the instinctive response to obey an order, especially when it came from Dean. He tried, and failed to raise his head and open his eyes.

“Dean, are you sure he’s alive?” He heard Sam ask gently and he could almost see the younger Winchester laying a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“I’m sure,” Dean replied in a voice that brokered no arguments. It was enough to make Castiel stir himself and prove Dean right.

Dean knelt above him, eyes filled with concern. Castiel blinked and saw Sam hovering behind his brother looking just as worried as he’d sounded. As soon as Dean saw Castiel was awake his entire demeanor changed and he broke into a grin.

“See!” He shot over his shoulder to Sam. “I told you! ‘You okay, Cas?”

Castiel blinked again.

The sun was high in the sky now, bathing all of them in its warm light. On the other hand, Dean and Sam’s faces were filthy and caked in dried blood and Castiel suspected he didn’t look much better himself. He assumed that the majority of the blood covering the Winchesters was not their own because even though they both looked exhausted to the point of collapse their eyes were sparkling and they were both smiling.

“Cas?” Dean prompted which reminded him that he’d been asked a question.

“I’ll be all right once I have rested,” he assured and the relieved grin he received in response made him feel a little stronger.

“Too bad you missed us sending Lucifer back to Hell,” Dean said as he carefully helped Castiel into a seated position. “It was awesome.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Castiel could feel his strength returning to him in waves now, and he suspected that at least part of it was down to the way Dean’s arm had settled around his back to keep him propped up. “I always said you could do great things.”

Now that he was upright he could see that they were in the middle of a grassy field. There was no sign that a battle had even taken place.

“Your angel buddies cleaned up before heading back to the pearly gates,” Dean said when he spotted the look of confusion on Castiel’s face.

Castiel nodded and attempted to stand, flashing Dean a grateful look when he helped him up.

“I should return to my brethren.”

Dean sighed and nodded. “Right.”

If Castiel didn’t know better he’d have said Dean actually sounded disappointed. He couldn’t imagine why that would be so, especially now that the battle was over and the hunter could return to his old life.

“I think I’m gonna go and wait in the car,” Sam suddenly announced. “You guys can say goodbye or whatever.”

As he turned to leave, Castiel caught hold of Sam’s hand to stop him. “You were not to blame for what happened, Sam. You were being manipulated by forces far beyond your control.”

“I know,” Sam said in a voice that implied he had heard it dozens of times before and was still no closer to believing it.

“Heaven has forgiven you,” Castiel continued, “You need to forgive yourself now.”

“I’m trying,” Sam replied softly.

“You did great things today. You and your brother. People will speak of them in generations to come.”

A small smile curled at the edge of Sam’s lips and he nodded, giving Castiel’s hand a grateful squeeze before he let go and walked to the car.

“Thanks for that,” Dean watched until his brother got into the car before turning his attention to Castiel. “I think you might have actually gotten through to him.”

“I hope you’ll heed my words too, Dean,” Castiel said. “You too need to forgive yourself for your part in this. It’s over now.”

“Yeah,” Dean replied with downcast eyes. “So I guess this is goodbye.”

Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, his fingers instinctively making their way to the brand that had been left when he’d first pulled Dean’s soul from Hell.

“It’s true that my task on Earth is now complete,” his voice was hesitant. “But I would not leave you if you desired for me to stay.

Dean glanced down at the hand on his arm and then met Castiel’s eyes. For a moment they just stood there, eyes locked, until Dean forced a weak grin.

“You gonna stick around and stop me from hooking up with scores of hot chicks?”

“No,” Castiel replied softly. “I would not seek to change who you are. I just desire you to be happy.”

He raised his eyes to the sky. “I must report to my superiors. If you wish to see me, call my name and I will come if I am able.”

He took off before Dean could speak another word and while he would never say it aloud, he prayed that this was not the last time he would see the hunter.

* * *

Heaven, Castiel was ashamed to think, was not as it once was. The division amongst the angels and the absence of God had assured that was no longer a place of joy but a place of uncertainty. As a result, he found himself thinking about Dean more often than was appropriate. So, when Dean called for him, just a few days after the war had ended, Castiel was back on Earth more rapidly than he had ever flown before.

“Wow,” Dean blinked when Castiel appeared in front of him. “That was fast. I wasn’t even sure you were going to show up.”

“I told you I would come if you called,” Castiel replied. Dean looked well. He had obviously rested since they had last seen each other, and Castiel couldn’t actually recall the last time he had seen him looking so relaxed and happy. It lightened his grace to see him like this.

“Yeah,” Dean replied. “I guess you did, but I just figured you’d have more important things to do.”

“There is little that is more important to me. You are my charge.”

Castiel glanced over Dean’s shoulder to where Sam was sitting at the table, laptop open in front of him. He wasn’t looking at the screen though, he was looking at them with a curious frown on his face.

“Hello, Sam,” he greeted. Sam blinked and the frown melted away.

“Castiel,” he nodded his head in greeting and focused his attention back on the screen.

“So,” Dean said, clearing his throat and drawing Castiel’s attention back to him. “We were wondering if you could help us with this thing we’re up against. It’s confusing the Hell out of us, Sam’s come up with nothing and Ellen and Bobby are taking a well-earned vacation after the whole fighting off the Apocalypse thing.”

Castiel nodded. “I’ll lend you whatever assistance I can.”

He didn’t care about the reasons behind his summoning. He was just glad to be here with Dean. So, he listened as Dean described the creature they were up against.

“It’s a Hupia,” Castiel finally said. “A nocturnal spirit that feeds from the living much like a vampire does.”

“Well, that explains why the dead man’s blood didn’t work,” Dean murmured half to himself and half to Sam.

“I could destroy it for you if you like,” Castiel offered. “It would only take a moment.”

“Thanks,” Dean replied with a grin. “But it kind of takes the fun out of hunting if there’s no actual hunting involved.”

“I understand,” Castiel nodded. “Although I’m surprised you’ve resumed hunting so soon after the final battle.”

Dean shrugged. “Gotta do something to fill the time. It’s not like all the nasties have just disappeared along with Lucifer.”

It was just further proof of what a remarkable man Dean Winchester was. Most humans, Castiel was sure, would have had enough after everything they’d been through. Not Dean, though. Castiel suspected he would go on fighting until his body was no longer capable of it.

“Be careful,” Castiel said sincerely.

“Always am, Cas,” Dean grinned. “But thanks.”

Castiel glanced at Sam who was watching them again now with that frown back in place.

“So. . .” Dean said hesitantly, apparently oblivious to the way his brother was looking at them. “Is it back to Heaven for you now?”

“I am not needed there if you wish me to remain.”

“Whatever, dude,” Dean replied with a casual shrug. “If you’ve got nothing better to do then you’re welcome to hang out here. I gotta tell you, though, it’s a pretty crappy motel room. The beds don’t even have magic fingers.”

“You’re sick, man,” Sam muttered from the table with a barely concealed smile. “I’ve told you. You need help.”

Castiel took a seat on the edge of the bed that he knew was Dean’s just by how messy it was. He watched as Sam and Dean teased each other, both of them smiling and laughing, and wondered what it must be like to have such a relationship. He cared about his brothers and sisters in Heaven, of course, but he knew it would never be anything like this. It wasn’t that he felt a sense of loss, it was just one of the many aspects of being human that he would never fully understand.

“So, Cas, I’m guessing you don’t want a beer or some pizza?” Dean asked after a few minutes of trading insults with his brother.

“No, thank you.” he replied. “You know I have no requirement for nourishment.”

“You’re missing out,” Dean said as he cracked open a bottle of beer and sprawled into a nearby chair. “So how’s things up in Heaven anyway? Everything back to normal now?”

“We’re still recovering from our losses.” Castiel was fascinated as Dean managed to stuff almost an entire slice of pizza into his mouth in one go. “It will take time but I’m confident things will go back to the way they were.”

“Minus the angels who were dicks, of course,” Dean grinned. “Hey, if you’re going to be hanging around for a while I don’t suppose you could use your angel mojo to detail my car?”

“Dean,” Sam hissed, sounding genuinely horrified at what his brother was suggesting.

“What? There’s gotta be some perks to leading a holy army, right Cas?”

“I’d help if I could,” Castiel said, feeling genuinely regretful that he couldn’t do this one small thing for Dean, especially when he knew how much Dean’s car meant to him. “Unfortunately technology is somewhat of a mystery to me. My dealings are with humans alone.”

“So you’re a PR man?” Dean asked with an amused smile. “No offence, Cas, but you kind of suck at it a lot of the time.”

“No offence taken,” Castiel replied. “I didn’t realize how little I knew about humans until I met you.”

“Well, Dean’s not your average person,” Sam grinned.

“No,” Castiel agreed softly. “He isn’t.”

“I hope you both mean because I’m so awesome,” Dean interjected as he reached for another beer. “Hey, we’re out. Sammy, you want to do the next store run? I need beer.”

“Dude, the store’s just down the block and I’m not your errand boy. Go get your own beer. I’m busy.”

“Whatever, bitch. Cas, you wanna come with me?”

Castiel rose to his feet, happy to go wherever Dean was going even if that meant watching him buy alcohol.

“Actually,” Sam said uneasily. “I kind of need Cas to help me with some research if you don’t mind.”

Dean frowned. “You need help with research? What, did you forget how to read all of a sudden?”

“Something like that. I need some help translating this text. Unless you suddenly speak Sumerian and want to do it for me.”

Dean grimaced. “Whatever. I’ll leave you two book geeks to it.”

Castiel waited until Dean was out of the door before he turned to Sam, only to find the younger Winchester looking at anything but him.

“How can I assist you, Sam?”

Finally, Sam met his eyes and he actually looked afraid.

“Ok,” he said tentatively. “You have to promise not to smite me or whatever if I’m reading this wrong.”

Castiel frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but I promise I will do you no harm.”

Sam sighed and nodded. “Ok. Man, Dean is going to kill me if he finds out I told you this.”

He watched as Sam got up from his seat and started pacing. It was obvious that he was agitated about something, and Castiel sensed it would be best to wait and let him speak in his own time. If there was one thing he knew, it was patience.

“Ok,” Sam said for the third time and stopped pacing. “Dean’s in love with you.”

Castiel blinked at him, certain he hadn’t heard correctly as Sam’s face flushed an alarming shade of red.

“He’d never say anything,” Sam continued hurriedly when Castiel didn’t immediately say anything, “But I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that before, like you’re the only thing in his world.”

“I’ve seen him look at you that way,” Castiel pointed out.

“You know that’s different. I’m serious, here. He hasn’t even tried to hit on anyone since you left. Yesterday this girl in a bar practically threw herself at him and Dean sent her packing. When I asked him why he said he didn’t have time for chick stuff. This is Dean we’re talking about here.”

Castiel considered this for a moment. “And this had led you to believe that he has feelings for me?”

“He lasted less than a week before calling you back. Really, we could have found out what this thing was by ourselves with a little work. He just wanted to see you. I wouldn’t have said anything myself but I’ve seen the way you look at him and I think maybe he’s not the only one who feels something.”

As Sam came to the end of his speech, he took a deep breath and watched Castiel waiting for some sort of reaction.

The angel had to admit that of all the things he’d expected Sam to say this one wasn’t even a consideration.

“If Dean hasn’t said anything to you about this, how can you be sure?” Castiel finally asked softly.

“He’s my brother.” Sam replied. “I just know. Like he never really talks about you, but he steers the conversation so that your name comes up. Trust me on this, when Dean doesn’t talk about something that’s when you start paying attention.”

He considered it again for a minute and then nodded his head. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m not wrong, am I?” Sam asked with hope in his voice. “About what you feel for Dean?.”

“No, you’re not wrong.”

Sam smiled. “Good.”

It was good, Castiel thought to himself. Except now, he had a decision to make and it was a decision he never imagined himself ever having to consider before he met Dean Winchester.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Sam said. “I know this is a pretty huge deal. I just want him to be happy.”

Dean chose that moment to come barging back into the motel room. “I have beer for me and some low carb, low fat, no sugar crap for you.”

He paused in the middle of the room and his eyes flitted between Sam and Castiel. “Ok, what did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Sam and Castiel replied in unison.

“Bullshit,” Dean dropped his things onto the table. “What’s going on?

“Nothing, really,” Castiel reassured him. “There’s just something I must do. I promise it’s nothing to be concerned over.”

Castiel caught Sam’s eye and Sam nodded.

“You’ll see me again soon, Dean, I promise.” And with that he removed himself to a quiet place where he could think.

* * *

He’d been standing on the roof of a building for some time now, watching the miniscule people and cars go past far below him. The wind whipped around him, slapping his coat against his legs but he paid it no attention. His eyes were firmly focused on the ground below. The distance was nothing in the grand scheme of things but right now, it felt as if he was looking from one end of the universe to the other.

He had a choice to make. Heaven would never allow one of their host to undertake a relationship with a human, no matter the role they both played in ending the war against Lucifer. It was unheard of. They were different species and most angels regarded humans as inferior. However, they had not spent time with Dean Winchester.

“I know how you’re feeling.”

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed. “Hello, Anna.”

He heard he step closer and when he opened his eyes again, she was standing beside him on the edge of the roof.

“How long have you been standing here?” She asked gently.

“I don’t know.” He replied.

The smile she flashed him was a kind one, but it did little to soothe the conflict he felt.

“Is it Dean?” Anna asked. “Is he why you’re here?”

“Yes.”

When she took his hand in hers and squeezed it, he didn’t pull away, allowing himself to take some small amount of comfort from the gesture.

“I’ve been where you are, Castiel. I know you’re scared and wondering whether this is the right thing to, but you just have to ask yourself one thing: is he worth it?”

His head snapped around and he looked at her curiously. “That just proves that you know little of what I am experiencing. I know that Dean is worth falling for, what I question is my own worthiness. Dean Winchester faced down both the armies of Heaven and Hell and lived to tell the tale. People will talk of what he did long after his life is over. My existence is insignificant compared to his.”

“I don’t think he sees it like that,” Anna pointed out. “Everyone knows how highly he regards you. You’re the one who rallied the angels. You risked yourself help him save his brother. If you trust nothing else then trust his judgment.”

Castiel considered her words for a moment. He could trust Dean. He did trust him, with his life. He took a step closer to the edge but stopped when Anna caught hold of his arm.

“If you do this, it’s going to hurt,” she told him. “Pain worse than you have ever imagined.”

“I don’t understand,” Castiel frowned. “Are you attempting to dissuade me now?”

“No,” Anna replied. “I’m just trying to prepare you.”

She pressed a piece of paper and a roll of money into his hand. “When you wake up you’re going to be hurt and confused. That’s the address of where Dean and Sam are staying and enough money to get you there. Your body will be the same so they will recognize you. I called in another favour.”

Castiel stared at the bundle in his hand for a moment, unsure how Anna had the money and unwilling to ask. He slipped it into his pocket without a word.

“Good luck,” Anna said, releasing his arm and stepping back.

Castiel took another breath and stepped into the void.

* * *

“Hey, buddy! You okay?”

There wasn’t an inch of Castiel’s body that didn’t ache in some way and the voice that spoke sounded like it was coming from miles away.

“Do you want me to call 911?”

Cautiously Castiel opened his eyes and hissed as the bright light pierced into his head and made it hurt more than it already did. He quickly closed them again and took a deep breath, wincing when that hurt too.

“I should call 911,” the voice said, a little more certainly this time.

“No,” Castiel said, almost startled at how rusty and broken his voice sounded. “I’m all right.”

He opened his eyes again to prove this and was grateful when it hurt a little less this time. A face hovered above him and it was not one he recognized. The man was young and he was regarding him with a mixture of concern and nervousness.

“You don’t look ok,” he said when he saw that Castiel’s eyes were open. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call for an ambulance?”

Castiel sat up carefully, biting back a cry of pain as more injuries made themselves known to him.

“Ok, ok, just take it easy.”

The man crouched down beside him and held him steady, reminding Castiel of someone else, but he couldn’t remember who. In fact, the more that he thought about it the more alarmed he became at the lack of things he could remember. He knew his name was Castiel . . . and that was about it.

“What the Hell happened to you?” The man asked.

Castiel frowned. “I don’t know.”

“You scared the crap out of me. You just dropped right in front of my car. I thought for sure you were dead.”

“No,” Castiel replied, still deep in thought as he tried to recall something, anything. “I’m very much alive.”

And why did that feel like such a strange notion?

“Were you mugged?” The man pressed. “Did you fall?”

Castiel blinked. “I . . . I think I must have. I don’t remember.”

He struggled to stand, gripping onto the man’s arm as he helped him up.

“Look, I don’t think memory loss is a good sign. And you don’t seem like you’re drunk or high. Maybe I should just take you to the hospital. Oh, unless you don’t have insurance. Hey, do you have any ID on you? That might help.”

He felt around in his pocket and pulled out the slip of paper and roll of notes.

“Woah, that is a serious amount of cash! I hope you didn’t rob a bank or anything.”

Castiel hoped so too, but the slip of paper had an address on it and that was what held his attention now.

“I think I need to go here,” he said, showing the address to his companion. “Can you tell me how I’d get there?”

The man glanced at the slip of paper and frowned. “This isn’t actually that far.”

He looked at Castiel for a moment and then nodded his head, as if he was agreeing with himself.

“Look, I know you don’t know me or anything, and I don’t know you but you look like you need some help. Why don’t I drive you where you need to go? Just spot me the cash for some gas and buy me a burger or something on the way.”

Castiel looked at him for a moment, trying to take in the measure of a person he had only just met. He couldn’t tell what it was, his eyes maybe, but something told him it was safe to trust this man.

“All right. Thank you.”

“Ok, let’s go.”

Castiel allowed himself to be helped into the car, thankful for the kindness he was being shown while he was feeling vulnerable. “What’s your name?”

“Edward,” the man replied as he slid into the driver’s seat. “What’s yours? You do know that, right?”

“Castiel,” he replied.

“Huh,” Edward said. “Kind of a weird name. Maybe you’re foreign.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, we’ve got a while until we get to where you need to be. Maybe something will come back to you.”

Castiel could only hope.

* * *

He learned a lot about Edward on their drive, the first thing being that he hated being called Edward and preferred Ed. His girlfriend of ten years worked for the local electricity company as an accountant, his favorite food was chili, his favorite movie was Conan and he was freaking out about turning thirty next month.

“It’s just so . . . grown up, you know?” He told Castiel over their burgers. “Most of the guys I went to college with are married with kids now and I still feel like a kid myself sometimes. I mean my favorite hobbies are video games and comic books.”

“I don’t think you should worry about what others are doing,” Castiel said as he delicately nibbled at his food. The truth was the burger was already making him feel sick

“Yeah, so long as I’m happy, right?” Ed snorted. “That’s what people keep telling me.”

Castiel set down his burger, deciding that abandoning the pretence of eating was probably wise considering the way his stomach felt.

“And are you happy?” he asked. He didn’t know why but it felt important that he was, probably just because of the kindness Ed had showed him when he really didn’t have to.

“Yeah,” Ed said with a small smile. “I’ve got a wonderful girl, some awesome friends, a roof over my head and a job that I don’t hate. Can’t ask for more than that, can you?”

“No,” Castiel agreed softly with a smile of his own. “I don’t think you can.”

Ed grinned and gestured at Castiel’s plate. “If you’re not gonna eat that do you mind if I take it with us. I’m still hungry.”

Again, Castiel was reminded of someone as he nodded and headed out of the diner with Ed. He had hoped something would have come back to him by now but so far, there was nothing. He just had to hope that someone at the motel they were heading to would be able to give him answers

* * *

It hit him the moment they pulled into the parking lot and he saw the black car parked outside one of the rooms.

Dean Winchester

The name came from nowhere and he had no idea who Dean Winchester was, but he knew that was his car and that he was who Castiel was here to see.

“He’s here.” He was struck with the strange sensation of returning home after a long time away. Of course, it was possible he’d been here before, he didn’t know.

“Great,” Ed said as he pulled the car into an empty space. “You want me to stick around in case he’s out or whatever?”

“No, thank you.”

He couldn’t explain it, like a lot of things that had happened today, but he knew he would be safe here and that it would be better if he met this Dean Winchester alone. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the rest of his money, pressing it into Ed’s hand.

“I’m not taking all of this,” Ed exclaimed when he saw how much Castiel had given him. “This is everything you have. We’ve only driven a couple of hundred miles and you’ve given me enough cash to get me to Canada and back if I wanted.”

Castiel was already climbing out of the car, carefully to avoid aggravating his wounds.

“I consider it a suitable reward for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you, again.”

Ed sighed and pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket, scribbling on it quickly and handing it to Castiel. “Here’s my number. If things don’t work out here give me a call, ok?”

Castiel nodded. “Thank you, again, for your kindness.”

He got out of the car and walked steadily towards the motel door that he hoped contained the answers he was looking for. He paused outside for a moment and took a steadying breath as he watched Ed drive away. He hoped he wasn’t wrong about this as he knocked.

When no one answered immediately, his heart sank. Either Dean wasn’t home, or he had the wrong room, or he’d been wrong about everything. Then the door opened and Castiel found himself facing a man that was immediately familiar.

“Holy shit! What happened to you?” Dean exclaimed.

Castiel couldn’t answer. It was coming back to him in waves now, overwhelming him and threatening to knock him down with the force of all his memories. He was an angel, or had been. He’d existed for millennia, watching over humans until he’d fallen in love with one, this one.

“I . . .” he began, but he didn’t even know how to put into words what he was feeling. He was struck with the overwhelming urge to just hold Dean, to feel him with his now human body and that sheer need overrode anything else that his new body was experiencing.

“Get inside,” Dean said and although his words were sharp, he guided Castiel gently to the end of the bed and started rummaging for the first aid kit. “So, are you going to tell me what happened or do I have to guess?”

Even in his hurt and exhausted state Castiel could feel the fear and confusion coming off Dean in waves.

“I fell.”

“You fell?” Dean repeated. “Like fell, fell?”

“Yes.”

His eyes were fixed firmly on the brown and rather stained carpet because he couldn’t stand the thought of looking into Dean’s eyes and seeing disgust or anger in them.

Dean set the first aid kit down, sat on the bed beside him, and cupped Castiel’s chin in his hand, tilting his head towards him so that he could examine the cuts on his face.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Sam said from somewhere behind Dean, and Castiel could see in his eyes the understanding of why he had done this.

“Like Hell he doesn’t!” Dean snapped. “What, is this a punishment for helping us because I will—“

“It wasn’t,” Castiel quickly interrupted before Dean unleashed his fury on someone who didn’t deserve it. “I chose this.”

“Chose it over what?” Dean asked. “What are they holding over you, Cas?”

Castiel sighed, suddenly feeling more tired and drained than he had ever felt before. “Nothing. No one forced me to do this Dean. I made the decision for myself.”

“But . . .”

“We need more supplies,” Sam said suddenly, preventing Dean from asking more questions. “I’m gonna go and get stuff.””

“Uh . . .”

“I’ll be back soon.”

He was on his feet and out of the door before either of them could really process what was happening. Castiel suspected it was simply a ploy to leave him alone with Dean for a little while, and he wasn’t sure whether he appreciated it or not. He remained on the bed, idly picking at the end of his coat until Dean spoke.

“So, are you going to tell me what made you take a tumble or do I have to guess?”

Castiel sighed. “Dean, I’m tired. I think. Do you mind if I take a shower before you start with your interrogation?”

For a moment, he thought Dean was going to argue and demand answers, but apparently, he saw just how exhausted Castiel really was because he simply nodded.

“Sure, go ahead. I’ll dig you out some fresh clothes. You’ll have to borrow mine until we can get to a store. Is that ok?”

“That’s fine. Thank you, Dean.”

It was strange but he had grown rather attached to his suit and trench coat. He certainly couldn’t imagine anything else. It was one of the many things about being human that he was going to have to get used to.

He wearily climbed to his feet and trudged into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and letting out a breath he hadn’t even been aware he’d been holding.

Part 2

Ficlet: Perchance to Dream

2009-09-02T14:38:11Z

Title: Perchance to Dream
Author: hils
Rating: G
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Words: 422
Summary: Sequel to What Dreams May Come. Arthur dreams again

“Merlin, I think I’m dying.”

Arthur moans softly as Merlin tugs another blanket over them in bed and lets out a contented murmur as Merlin’s cool hand brushes over his brow.

“You’re not dying,” Merlin assures him. “Gaius says it’s just a mild fever and you’ll be back on your feet and bossing me around again in no time.”

Arthur lets out a soft hum that would have been an argument if he were less tired. Instead he shuffles down and rests his head on Merlin’s shoulder, dozing off almost instantly.

He dreams of a maze of corridors, endlessly twisting and turning as he runs. He knows he has lost something, that he needs to find it, but he doesn’t know what it is and for the first time in a long while he feels afraid.

He runs faster, lungs burning with the effort but he knows he can’t stop.

“Arthur.”

The voice that calls to him is soft and gentle but it’s enough to bring him skidding to a halt.

“Merlin?”

His closest friend and lover steps from the shadows, a smile on his face and a small item in his hands.

“I think you’re looking for this.”

The bear looks just the same with no sign of the aging that Arthur knows must have occurred in the years it’s been languishing under his bed. He takes the toy from Merlin and runs his hands over the soft fur, amazed that such a small thing had brought him such comfort when he was a boy.

He smiles sadly and hands it back to Merlin. “That’s not what I’m looking for.”

“Oh,” Merlin says as he tucks the bear into the folds of his clothes. “What are you looking for then?”

“I don’t know. Something else.”

They stand there in silence for a moment until Arthur realises the urgency and panic he’d felt at first has faded now and he takes comfort in Merlin’s presence.

“How is it that you’re in my dream anyway? Is it a magic thing?”

Merlin shrugs. “I think so. It’s not the first time this has happened.”

Arthur stares at him for a moment, takes in Merlin’s appearance as though it was the first time he was seeing him. In his mind’s eye he’s eight years old again and a staring in awe at the boy who taught him not to be afraid.

He wakes with a gasp to find Merlin still lying beside him with a small smile on his lips.

“It was you,” Arthur breathes.

Fic: The Epic Tale of the Journey to Candy Mountain

2009-08-11T15:49:12Z

Title: The Epic Tale of the Journey to Candy Mountain
Author: lou_angel and hils
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Words: 6340
Summary: Part of the Epic Tales series. It's highly recommended you watch this, this and this before you read the fic or it will make even less sense than usual ;)
Thanks to Rizzy for the beta work

Being Gaius’s dogsbody didn’t come with much in the way of perks; the only one Merlin could think of was access to his books, which was handy when it came to embarrassing situations like this one.

“I don’t see why you can’t just ask Gaius,” Arthur said as he peered over his shoulder.

“Would you want to ask him?” Merlin shot back.

“Well, no, but I’m the prince. It’s your job to ask him.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Merlin retorted, “if I ask, Gaius will want to examine me and I’m not letting him go anywhere near there!”

“Oh Merlin, it’s just a rash,” said Arthur.

“It’s that ridiculous oil you keep insisting on using,” Merlin said wriggling uncomfortably on his chair.

“It smells nice,” Arthur said defensively.

Merlin flicked through the pages of the book, hoping desperately to find an alternative oil that they could use. If they couldn’t, then things were going to get very…dull for both of them.

“Hey, what’s that?” Arthur asked, stopping Merlin’s hand on one of the pages.

“Uh, not oil,” Merlin pointed out.

Arthur leant over Merlin’s shoulder to get a better look at the page. “Candy Mountain,” he said. “Sounds fun.”

Merlin scanned the page quickly and looked at the picture of a giant pink mountain. “It’s full of sweet things Arthur, but nothing that can help us with our problem.”

“I like sweet things,” Arthur said with a wide smile. “Let’s go!”

Merlin finished reading the page. “It’s a dangerous journey,” he warned.

Arthur’s smile got even bigger. “Come on Merlin, it’ll be fun. Just you and me. Like it used to be.”

Merlin refrained from pointing out that just because Arthur chose to ignore the small army of knights and various servants that usually accompanied them on any journey they made, did not mean they were alone.

“It says that Candy Mountain is an ideal place for couples.” Arthur continued. “We’re a couple, aren’t we Merlin?”

“Well, yes.” Merlin blushed because he still hadn’t really got used to the idea despite the epic amounts of amazing sex they’d been having, and the fact that Uther had more or less planned their wedding.

“Excellent! We shall leave at first light then. Make sure my horse is saddled and polish my sword.”

“You know, considering we’re a couple you still boss me around a lot,” Merlin pointed out.

“I can’t help that. It’s my job,” Arthur retorted but Merlin’s eyes were back on the page.

“Oh. It says here that only a unicorn can guide the way to Candy Mountain.”

“Crap.”

“Oh well, never mind,” Merlin said brightly. “There’ll be other quests.”

Arthur looked crestfallen and Merlin momentarily felt like he’d stolen a present from a small child.

“We could ask Anhora,” Arthur suggested.

“I don’t think so,” Merlin said.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t trust him,” Merlin said simply. “And I’d end up having to save you from almost certain death. Again.”

“Don’t be such a girl, Merlin.”

“I’m a girl?” Merlin laughed incredulously. “You’re the one that wants to go to a giant pink mountain full of sweets.”

“Shut up, Merlin.” Arthur pouted and turned away, arms folded.

Merlin sighed and turned his attention back to the book.

“Well,” Arthur announced, “you can stay here if you like. I’m going into the forest tomorrow to look for Anhora.”

Merlin sighed again. “Oh, fine, I’ll come with you. Just try not to kill any unicorns this time, okay?”

“I’m not a complete imbecile. I learned my lesson last time.”

Merlin muttered under his breath about how miracles could really be achieved and slammed the book shut. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, he could feel it.

* * *

“Oh dear, he doesn’t seem to be here. Let’s go back to the castle,” Merlin said after an hour and a half of trampling through dense forest undergrowth.

Arthur glowered and flung himself down onto a log in a sulk. “I want to go to Candy Mountain.”

Merlin sat beside him. “Perhaps Candy Mountain wasn’t meant to be found.”

“Then why was it in a book?” Arthur asked petulantly, “With directions?”

“Well…uh…maybe…”

Merlin was saved from having to find another excuse by the random and unexpected appearance of two unicorns.

“Candy Mountain!” The pink one exclaimed gleefully. “It’s a land of sweets and joy and joyness.”

The other one nodded its head excitedly in agreement.

“Can you take us there?” Arthur asked hopefully, his eyes shining at the thought of all the sweets and joy.

“We cannot take you alone,” the purple unicorn said.

“What if Anhora comes with us?” Arthur asked eagerly.

“You know the keeper?” the pink unicorn asked delightedly.

“Keeeeeeper!” the purple unicorn echoed in a singsong voice. “Keeeeeeper!”

“Yes, we have met Anhora,” Merlin said abruptly and then, under his breath, “Unfortunately.”

“You’re like a constant downer, huh?” said the pink unicorn with an unexpected sharpness.

“Shush Merlin,” said Arthur, “or we will never get to Candy Mountain.”

“Candy Mountain!” the purple unicorn chanted, happily distracted.

“Come, come,” they said in unison, before starting to trot through the woods with Merlin and Arthur following behind.

“I didn’t know unicorns could talk,” Arthur said as they walked. “What are your names?”

“Fru-Fru and Lulu,” they said together, leaving Arthur totally confused as to which one was which. “We’re going to Candy Mountain.”

The unicorns began to slow down as they neared a clearing.

“Through there,” the pink one said.

“Go, tell of the quest to Candy Mountain!” the purple unicorn said.

“Candy Mountain!”

They pushed Merlin and Arthur into the clearing.

A larger, white, unicorn was lying on the grass staring at a screen on which various unicorns cavorted athletically in mind-boggling positions.

Arthur cleared his throat loudly and the unicorn looked up guiltily as the title “Uniporn” filled the screen.

“Hello,” Arthur said. “I am Prince Arthur of Camelot. What is your name?”

The unicorn frowned at Merlin and Arthur as if suspecting some kind of hoax until it eventually replied. “Charlie.”

Arthur blinked. “Charlie.”

“Yes. Charlie. You got a problem with that?”

Arthur shrugged. “It’s not a very unicorny name, is it?”

Charlie raised an eyebrow, or where an eyebrow would have been if unicorns had them. “And how many unicorns do you know exactly?”

“Well, two at the moment,” Arthur replied. “Three including you, but that’s not why I’m here. We want to go to Candy Mountain and we’ve heard you’re the…uh…horse to talk to about it.”

Charlie snorted.

“If not, we can go,” said Merlin, “and leave you to your…entertainment.”

Charlie did not look amused.

“I would like to go to Candy Mountain,” Arthur said firmly, “if you would help. It is a land of sweets and joy.”

“And joyness!” trilled Fru-Fru and Lulu as they trotted out from beneath the trees into the clearing.

“Oh,” said Charlie. “You two.”

“Charlie!” said the pink unicorn with glee. “Candy Mountain, Charlie!”

“Charlieeee!” repeated the purple unicorn. “Take us to Candy Mountain, Charlie.”

“No,” said Charlie. “I like my kidney. And there is danger. Much danger.”

“Kidney?” Merlin asked, disliking the idea of Candy Mountain more with everything he heard about it. “And what sort of danger?”

“I’m watching my TV,” said Charlie dismissively. “Go away.”

“But Charlie!” the pink unicorn cried.

“Charlieeeee!” said the purple unicorn.

“Come on Charlie!”

“Charlieeeeee!” whined the purple unicorn. “Charlieeeeee!”

“Candy Mountain!”

“Charlieeeeee!”

“Oh all right,” Charlie said grumpily. “Fine. We’ll go to Candy Mountain.”

Fru-Fru and Lulu pranced about happily and Arthur looked very much like he would do the same if such a thing were not so undignified.

Merlin and Charlie looked less than thrilled.

“Now we must find the guide,” Fru-Fru said. “He will show us the way.”

“I thought Charlie was the guide.”

“No, silly,” Lulu tutted. “Charlie is the way.”

“What? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Yeah, you’ll get used to that,” Charlie grumbled.

The unicorns came to a halt in a small clearing. “Now we must summon the guide.”

“Oh, this should be good,” Charlie muttered.

Fru-Fru and Lulu trotted around in a circle sticking their tongues out at each other and making bizarre chirping noises.

“Oh, what do you two want?”

“Gandalf! Gandaaaaaalf!”

The familiar grumpy wizard had appeared in the clearing and was glaring at the brightly coloured unicorns.

“No,” said Merlin resolutely. “No way.”

Even Arthur didn’t look that happy to see Gandalf. He always seemed to get the brunt of the wizard’s sarcasm and he didn’t like it at all.

“We’re going to Candy Mountain, Gandalf!” Fru-Fru cried happily.

“Candy Mountain!” Lulu said. “With humans!”

Gandalf spied Merlin and Arthur. “Oh, you two. I should have guessed. As if having to look after these two nincompoops whilst Anhora suns himself in Barbados wasn’t annoying enough.”

Charlie made a disgruntled harrumphing noise.

“Hello, Charlie,” Gandalf said without any trace of annoyance. “Is the TV working all right?”

“Can you help us get to Candy Mountain?” Arthur asked with pained politeness. “We really would like to go. It is full of sweets. And joy.”

“And joyness,” Merlin added. “Apparently.”

Gandalf sighed. “There’s always something with you two, isn’t there? Fine. I told Anhora I’d keep an eye on these bloody unicorns so I suppose I’ll have to come with you.”

“Yaaay!” Fru-Fru and Lulu cheered and Merlin was sure they’d be clapping their hands if they had hands. “Candy Mountain.”

“Is it far?” Arthur asked.

“Yes,” Gandalf replied.

“Is it dangerous? Will there be monsters to fight?”

“You could try sounding a little less enthusiastic about dangers and monsters,” Merlin grumbled. “I’m getting a bit sick of having to save you all the time.”

“No, you’re not,” Arthur replied. “And I’ve done my fair share of saving you in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Gandalf cleared his throat. “Save the bickering for the bedroom, and by bedroom I mean some place far away where I can’t hear you. Now come on, let’s go.”

“Do I have to come?” Charlie asked hopefully.

“But Charlieeee!” protested Fru-Fru.

“You have to Charlieeee!” Lulu added.

“Yes,” said Gandalf firmly. “I’m not going to be the only sensible being on this trip.” With that, he stalked along an overgrown path into the trees whilst the rest of the group scurried behind him.

***

“Are we nearly there yet?” Arthur asked after twenty minutes.

“No,” Gandalf snapped.

They picked their way through a ferny meadow.

“How about now?” Arthur asked hopefully.

“No!” Gandalf shouted.

Arthur dropped back to walk alongside Merlin, who was at the back of the group and struggling a little with the large bag Arthur had insisted on bringing for the journey.

“What have you packed in here?” Merlin groaned as he shifted the weight onto his other shoulder. “It feels like half the kingdom.”

“It’s all essential supplies,” Arthur informed him. “And you need to build your strength up so it’ll do you some good.”

“What sort of supplies?” Merlin asked, getting a glint in his eye. “Bedroom supplies?”

“Is that all you think about, Merlin?” Arthur asked, sounding exasperated even though he was grinning. “Besides, I thought we couldn’t do that because of the…you know.”

Merlin blushed. “Oh, right.”

“I did bring this, though.” Arthur pulled Merlin to a halt and rummaged in the bag before pulling out the iPod. “Should make the trip a little more interesting.”

“OOOH!” Fru-Fru and Lulu gasped in wonder when they saw the device. “You have the magical box of wonder. We can use that to summon the Pombear.”

“The what?” Arthur asked.

“Really, don’t ask,” Charlie said. “You’re always better off if you don’t ask.”

“This is going to be a long trip,” Merlin muttered to himself. “I wonder if we’re nearly there.”

“NO!” yelled Gandalf, now several yards in front of the rest of the group glaring testily at them from the bank of a lagoon.

Gandalf stepped onto a rickety looking raft and urged everyone on board. “Come along, hurry up, we haven’t got all day.”

Fru-Fru and Lulu trotted merrily on board, with Charlie following reluctantly. Merlin and Arthur boarded the raft dubiously but when it held their weight with ease, they relaxed slightly. Gandalf pushed them away from the edge and they drifted across the lagoon.

“Splish, splish,” said Fru-Fru.

“Splishy splashy,” said Lulu.

“Splish, splash, splosh!”

“Splishy, splashy, sploshy!”

“SHUT UP!” Charlie roared finally, making everyone but the two other unicorns jump. “You know I hate the water, especially after last time.”

“Starfish loves you,” Lulu said sagely but then fell silent.

“Splish,” Fru-Fru added but luckily for all concerned they reached the other side of the lagoon before Charlie could commit foul and bloody murder.

“We’ll camp here for the night,” Gandalf said when they reached another small clearing. “No canoodling you two.”

Merlin and Arthur blinked innocently. “Us?”

“What if we need to share body heat to stay warm?” Merlin asked. “Can I snuggle with you instead?”

“We like snuggles,” Fru-Fru said. “They makes us feel warm and loved like little pixies.”

“No one is snuggling with anyone,” Gandalf insisted. “I’ll make a fire that will keep us all warm enough. Now shut up and go to sleep.”

“But we’re hungry,” Lulu whined.

“What do unicorns eat?” Arthur asked, feeling genuinely curious.

“Candy.” Fru-Fru said. “Candy Mountain!”

“Quiet!” Gandalf said. “It is time for bed. Or there will be no candy.”

Fru-Fru and Lulu stared at each other. “No candy!” they repeated and quickly curled up by the fire Gandalf had enchanted. Charlie moved as far away from the rest of the group as he could before settling down.

Merlin set down the heavy bag with a groan. “I hope you put two bedrolls in here,” he whispered to Arthur as he tugged the bag open.

“If I’ve forgotten anything, it’s your fault,” Arthur said. “It’s supposed to be your job to pack my bag.”

Luckily Arthur had included two bedrolls and blankets, so Merlin ignored the half-hearted jibe and set up their beds for the night as close together as he dared, with Gandalf glowering at them from the other side of the fire.

“Well, this hasn’t been very dangerous so far,” Arthur whispered to Merlin quietly.

“That’s not a bad thing,” Merlin pointed out.

Arthur didn’t reply and Merlin sighed. “Why are you so determined to risk your life over something as trivial as candy? Do you have any idea what it would do to me if anything happened to you?”

“Relax, Merlin. Nothing’s going to happen to me while you’re here. Besides, with Gandalf’s magic we’re bound to be safe.”

Merlin didn’t say anything for a moment. “Do you really trust magic enough to keep us alive?”

Arthur didn’t answer for several moments until Merlin was almost sure he’d fallen asleep. “Yes,” he said eventually. “I think so.”

Merlin didn’t know what to make of Arthur’s admission so he simply wriggled closer and snuggled into Arthur.

“What about Gandalf?” Arthur whispered.

“Sssh,” Merlin hushed with a grin and closed his eyes.

Arthur let out a sigh and snuggled back, drifting off to sleep.

* * *

“Aww! Snugglebugs!”

Merlin’s eyes snapped open and he found Fru-Fru’s face only a couple of inches from his own. He let out a startled yelp which caused Arthur to wake up

“Aww! Cuddle bunnies!”

Merlin twisted around to see Lulu staring just as close to Arthur.

“Oi!” Gandalf snapped. “What did I tell you about canoodling?”

Merlin ignored him and climbed out of his bedroll as Arthur did the same.

“I don’t suppose you can magic us up some breakfast,” Merlin asked Gandalf hopefully.

“You didn’t pack any food?” Arthur asked. “You really are hopeless.”

“I didn’t know it was going to take so long to get to the place,” Merlin said. “Besides, you were the one who packed the bag.”

“Do I have to do everything around here?” Gandalf grumbled and pushed two bowls of inedible looking gruel towards them. “That’s your lot for this morning. Eat it up.”

Arthur suppressed a grimace as he tucked into the disgusting looking food. Merlin ate with less disdain, used to almost indigestible peasant fare. Fru-Fru and Lulu trotted around the perimeter of the clearing making high pitched chirruping noises that Gandalf and Charlie tried, rather unsuccessfully, to ignore.

“Gandaaaalf!” Lulu tweeted.

“Charlieeee!” Fru-Fru twittered.

“Candy Mountain!” they sang in unison.

Gandalf grimaced and Charlie was back to looking like he was having murderous thoughts.

“How have you not killed these two?” Gandalf asked, sensing the tension coming in waves from Charlie.

“Anhora,” Charlie replied and Gandalf nodded in understanding.

“There really should be some rule that permits killing unicorns as annoying as those two.”

Charlie nodded.

“How far is Candy Mountain now?” Arthur asked, having passed most of his gruel over to Merlin to finish.

“We must cross the bridge of hope and wonder,” Fru-Fru said.

“Yeah, you’ll get splinters,” Charlie added.

Merlin shook his head. “Well, that sounds fun.”

“I’m still not sensing any danger,” Arthur commented.

“Splinters can be pretty nasty,” Merlin said.

“We must pass through the glade of the Nargles!” said Lulu.

“And summon the Pombear,” Fru-Fru added.

“Do these creatures even exist?” Arthur asked.

“I’ve learnt not ask,” Charlie said. “Whatever you do, don’t ask them about the Banana King.”

“What’s a banana?” Arthur asked excited. “Is it a dangerous beast?”

“Enough!” said Gandalf wearily. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s sing a song!” Fru-Fru suggested as they walked. “I know a good one.”

“No singing!” Gandalf snapped. “Do you want to alert every dangerous creature in the area to our whereabouts?!”

Merlin jabbed Arthur in the ribs when he saw the excited look in Arthur’s eyes.

“La la la la,” Fru-Fru sang tunelessly.

“La la la la,” Lulu joined in.

“Shh!” Gandalf hissed. “The glade of the Nargles is just ahead.”

“Can I kill them?” Arthur asked hopefully.

“You can try,” Gandalf replied darkly. “No mortal has faced a Nargle and lived.”

“Until today,” Arthur said grimly, and Merlin let out a despairing groan.

“Stop!” whispered Gandalf, flinging out an arm to hold back the rest of the group. “There’s one.” He gestured into the glade.

Merlin and Arthur peered anxiously under Gandalf’s arms to spy this dangerous beast.

“Where is it?” Arthur hissed.

“There. By the old oak tree.” Gandalf directed.

On the mossy bed at the foot of the gnarled tree was a small fluffy creature, no bigger than a rabbit, with large eyes that seemed too big for its head and tiny paws.

“That’s the dangerous beast?” Arthur snorted. “I’ve eaten bigger things for breakfast.”

“Arthur!” Merlin chastised.

“Come on, Merlin,” Arthur said, “I’d be more afraid if I had to battle you.” Ignoring the hissed warnings from everyone, he took a step forward into the glade.

The creature looked at him and let out a small whimper, its whole body quivering as Arthur stepped closer.

“It’s all right,” Arthur said gently, taking another step forward. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The creature let out another little whimper and took a tentative step forward, sniffing the air in Arthur’s direction. It took another step when it seemed satisfied that Arthur’s scent was not that of something dangerous.

“See!” Arthur called over his shoulder. “It’s quite harmless.”

Then the creature lunged, letting out a bellowing roar that was much louder than its small body should have allowed. Arthur yelped as he saw several rows of razor sharp teeth in its mouth.

“Bloody hell! Run!”

Fru-Fru and Lulu let out scared squeaking noises as the group fell back quickly. Merlin lunged forwards to grab at Arthur’s arm, pulling him back into the relative safety of the trees. Gandalf was waving a large stick about and incanting strange words that even Merlin couldn’t understand.

The Nargle was still roaring and soon the glade was filling with more of the creatures, all tilting their heads back and shouting to the sky.

The Nargles stopped at the edge of the glade, hissing and spitting after the retreating group who continued to run until they were much deeper into the forest.

“You have angered the Nargles,” Fru-Fru said to Arthur.

“We must pass the glade to get to Candy Mountain,” Lulu said.

“Candy Mountain,” echoed Fru-Fru sadly.

“If you are serious in your quest, this can only be a temporary retreat,” Gandalf said.

Arthur was already rummaging through the bag on Merlin’s shoulder. “I was unprepared. Something a good knight should never be,” he said resolutely. “This time will be different. Merlin, help me into my chainmail.”

Gandalf and Charlie exchanged exasperated looks as Merlin reluctantly obeyed.

“Right,” said Arthur unsheathing his sword, “let’s go.”

“Do you have a death wish?” Gandalf finally asked as Arthur readied himself to charge back into the glade. “Because if you go back in there like that, you will live for approximately five seconds before dying a hideously painful death.”

Merlin caught hold of Arthur’s arm. “Arthur, you’re not going back there.”

“Well, we have to do something,” Arthur snapped. “We can’t just hide here forever.”

“Only the Banana King can defeat the Nargles,” Fru-Fru said. “He has the key.”

“I do?” Charlie asked. “I don’t have any keys.”

Arthur stared at Charlie and blinked. “You’re the Banana King?”

“It’s a long story,” Charlie sighed.

“Use the key, Charlie,” Lulu said, trotting in circles around them. “Save us all.”

“I already told you, I don’t have any keys.”

“What’s that?” Merlin asked, pointing. A chain had appeared around Charlie’s neck and something was attached to it.

“It’s the key!” Fru-Fru exclaimed.

“That’s a banana,” Gandalf corrected.

“If I have to stick it in my ear, I am going home,” Charlie said.

“How will that help us?” Arthur asked, but he sheathed his sword and stepped towards Charlie to examine the banana.

“You must use the key,” Lulu repeated.

“May I?” Arthur asked politely as he stretched a hand out towards the banana.

“Go ahead,” Charlie said. “I don’t suppose it will make any difference.”

As Arthur touched the banana, the chain snapped and the fruit grew to the size of a sword in Arthur’s hand.

“Now you can defeat the Nargles,” Fru-Fru proclaimed happily. “YAY!”

Arthur looked slightly perplexed at the giant fruit in his hand but he was not one to back down from a challenge, especially when it stopped him from getting to candy. He held the banana up and slowly made his way back towards the Nargles.

“Be careful,” Merlin whispered, close enough behind Arthur to pull him away if something went wrong.

All the Nargles had gathered at the edge of the glade and there had to be at least three dozen of them, all staring at them with a mixture of curiosity and what looked like hunger.

“What do I do now?” Arthur asked.

“I have no idea,” Charlie replied.

Arthur took a few steps closer, waving the banana tentatively in front of him. The Nargles merely blinked at him. “I don’t think it’s working,” he whispered.

“Throw the banana!” Fru-Fru said.

“Throw the banana, Arthur!” Lulu chimed.

Arthur paused. On the one hand, if throwing the banana worked they could all cross the glade in safety and be on their way to Candy Mountain. On the other hand, if it failed he’d be left weaponless and facing dozens of angry Nargles.

One of the Nargles growled.

Arthur threw the banana.

As it soared through the air the banana grew in size yet again so that by the time it landed it was roughly the size of a large tree. The Nargles pounced on it, making contented noises as they ate.

“We can go now,” Lulu said and they crossed through the glade without incident.

“Well,” Arthur announced happily. “That was an adventure.”

“You could try and sound a little less pleased that we were all just almost eaten,” Merlin sighed. He looked over at Gandalf who was looking most unimpressed with the whole encounter. “Please tell me we’re nearly there.”

“Now we must cross the bridge of hope and wonder,” Fru-Fru explained. “And then summon the Pombear. After that we will be at Candy Mountain.”

“Candy Mountain,” Lulu echoed happily.

“Well, the bridge of hope and wonder doesn’t sound too bad,” Merlin said.

He was wrong.

***

The bridge was rickety and very high up above a canyon. Far below them was a tumultuous river and menacing looking rocks.

Gandalf began to cross the bridge without any appearance of fear or anxiety. Fru-Fru and Lulu trotted behind, similarly unperturbed. Merlin and Charlie were more cautious and even Arthur was a little bit uncertain.

“Charlieeee!” called Fru-Fru.

“Charlieeee!” repeated Lulu.

“We’re on a bridge, Charlie,” Fru-Fru said. “A bridge of hope and wonder.”

“It’s a bit wobbly,” Arthur said as the bridge swayed in the wind.

Merlin put his hand out on the rail to steady himself. “Ow!”

“What is it?” Arthur asked, alarmed. He turned abruptly and grabbed at Merlin’s hand to inspect it.

“I think it’s a splinter,” said Merlin.

“Yeah, you’ve got to watch out for those,” Charlie said.

Arthur slipped Merlin’s finger into his mouth and attempted to suck out the sliver of wood.

“Do you really have to do that now?” Gandalf asked.

“It’s all right,” Merlin said to Arthur, even though he was unbelievably aroused by the way the prince was suckling his finger. “Maybe we should finish crossing the bridge first.”

They finished crossing without any more splinter incidents, and Arthur shot Merlin a look that said he would finish what they’d started as soon as they were alone together.

“Maybe we should set up camp,” Merlin suggested when he caught the look in Arthur’s eyes.

Gandalf sighed, apparently not oblivious to what ‘setting up camp’ really meant.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Just try not to make any noise, alright? The last thing we need is an infestation of Blublus.”

“I’m not even going to ask,” Arthur said to Merlin.

“Probably wise.”

***

When darkness fell, most of the group were asleep. Fru-Fru and Lulu curled up next to the fire. Charlie had ventured a little further away in search of some privacy and, presumably, some quiet out of earshot of the other unicorns who made strange singsong sighs in their sleep. Even Gandalf was snoring softly.

Merlin and Arthur were still awake and squeezed together in Merlin’s bedroll. Arthur had finally managed to remove the splinter from Merlin’s finger and was insisting on checking all Merlin’s other digits for errant shards of wood.

“Just in case,” Arthur explained before drawing Merlin’s hand near and wrapping his lips around a little finger.

Merlin moaned softly as Arthur’s tongue caressed his finger and his mouth slid up and down the digit.

“Oh, god, Arthur, that feels so good.”

“Will you shut up,” Gandalf grumbled, “some of us are trying to sleep.”

Merlin sighed. “I really can’t wait until we get home.”

Arthur pressed a soft kiss to Merlin’s palm. “I promise it will be worth it, and I promise I’ll give you as much candy as we can carry when we get to the mountain.”

“Well, that’s nice,” Merlin grumbled. “But I’m going to be the one who has to carry it.”

“Maybe we can ask one of the unicorns to carry it.”

“Not Charlie, though,” Merlin said. “I get the feeling he wouldn’t appreciate it.”

Arthur murmured an inaudible answer and wriggled closer to Merlin, tucking his feet in between Merlin’s calves.

“We should probably sleep now,” Merlin said reluctantly.

“Or…” Arthur whispered, “We could do something else.”

“I think Gandalf might set the Blublus on us.”

“Not that,” Arthur said. He rolled away and came back a few moments later with the iPod.

“Oh,” said Merlin.

“We could just listen to a couple,” Arthur suggested, pressing an earphone into his ear and holding the other out to Merlin. “And if my hand slips whilst we’re listening, it’s not really my fault, is it?” he said, sliding a hand under the hem of Merlin’s tunic to rest on his waist.

Merlin grinned and switched on the iPod. “I get to pick.”

He scrolled through the selection before he eventually settled on ‘Can’t Fight This Feeling’ by REO Speedwagon.

“Well, I was hoping for something a little more manly,” Arthur grinned as he snuggled down and rested his head on Merlin’s shoulder. “But this will do.”

They were both asleep before the first song had finished.

* * *

“Wake up, wake up,” Lulu trilled early the next morning. “We’re almost at Candy Mountain.”

“Yay! Candy Mountain!” Fru-Fru added.

“Oh, thank god this is almost over,” Charlie muttered, and Merlin had to agree with him.

“So, what do we do now?” Arthur asked as he brushed the sleep out of his eyes.

“We must go to the top of that biiiiiiiiig hill and summon the Pombear. He will show us the way.”

“And what exactly is a Pombear?” Merlin asked.

Neither Fru-Fru nor Lulu answered because they were too busy chanting “Pombear!” and doing cartwheels around the campfire.

“I didn’t know unicorns could do that,” said Arthur impressed.

“I get the feeling these aren’t ordinary unicorns,” Merlin said as he packed away their bedrolls and stowed the iPod safely in a pocket of the bag.

“Nooooo!” called Fru-Fru. “We need the magical box of wonder to summon the Pombear.”

“Pombearrrrrrr!” echoed Lulu.

Gandalf came over to Merlin irritably. “I am afraid they are right.” He looked sick as he said it. “But the iPod will be useful in the next stage of our journey.”

“Okay,” Merlin said, though he was reluctant to relinquish the device.

“Charlieeeee!” called Fru-Fru trotting amongst the trees. “Charlieeeee! Where are yooooou?”

“We’re going to Candy Mountain, Charlie!” called Lulu.

“Yeah,” Charlie said, poking his head out from behind a nearby tree. “I kind of like the one kidney I have so I think I’m just going to wait here.”

“Noooooooo,” Fru-Fru said, jumping over to where Charlie was hiding. “You have to come with us to Candy Mountain.”

“I will keep you safe,” Gandalf promised. “You’re not leaving me alone with these four. Now, come on.”

Charlie sighed and came out from behind his tree. “You’d better be right about this.”

They headed towards the hill, with Fru-Fru and Lulu singing happily as they walked. It was a lot steeper than it looked and by the time they reached the top, they were all panting for breath, except Fru-Fru and Lulu who looked like the trek had taken them no effort at all.

“Use the magical device,” Lulu said, galloping in circles around them. “Summon the Pombear.”

“Pombear,” Fru-Fru repeated happily. “Pommmmmbearrrrr.”

Merlin pulled out the iPod and looked at it. He had no idea what he was supposed to do now.

“Play the magical tune,” Fru-Fru prompted.

Merlin pressed play, hoping that something would happen. Fru-Fru and Lulu began chirruping and pawing at the ground with one hoof in a synchronised pattern and suddenly the air was filled with music from the iPod amplified and echoing and trilling “Bibbity-bobbity boo!”

Arthur blushed to hear such an unmanly song emanating from the device but Fru-Fru and Lulu seemed delighted and made strange squawking noises.

Then the ground began to tremble and a giant orangy-yellow bear lumbered into view.

“Pombear!” they squeed.

Arthur unsheathed his sword and pushed Merlin behind him.

The bear let out a series of low growling noises, which had Fru-Fru and Lulu nodding their heads excitedly.

“He has shown us the way!”

Arthur frowned. “But he didn’t say anything.”

“Just go along with it,” Charlie sighed. “It’s best for all of us if you do.”

Arthur shrugged and sheathed his sword. The bear growled one more time and then burst into flames. Arthur let out a startled yelp as the ends of his hair were singed.

“Yeah, that happens a lot,” Charlie said as Merlin stroked Arthur’s hair soothingly

“Follow us! Follow us!” Lulu and Fru-Fru said as they trotted back down the hill.

When they reached the place where they had been camping before they were surprised to see a giant mountain made of sweets sitting in its place.

“Huh,” Arthur said and left it at that.

“Candy Mountain! Candy Mountain!” Fru-Fru and Lulu said. “We’re here!”

“I thought that would take longer,” Merlin said, grateful that there were no more epic quests involving huge amounts of danger to answer.

“Now you must pay the toll,” Lulu said.

“One of you guys can give up your kidney this time,” Charlie grumbled.

Gandalf let out a long-suffering sigh. “No-one is required to give up any of their vital organs.”

“They’re not?” Charlie asked suspiciously. “That’s not what happened last time.”

Merlin set the heavy bag he’d been carrying on the ground and sat beside it wearily. He’d been exhausted since they’d left Camelot and just wanted Arthur to have his candy so they could go home and sleep. Possibly for weeks.

Arthur was overwhelmed. “Name this toll. I will pay.”

“Candy Mountain is a place of sweets and joy and joyness,” Fru-Fru said.

“We must leave something that gives us joy,” Lulu said.

Merlin gave Arthur an alarmed glance.

Arthur nodded gravely and stepped forward. With a dramatic flourish, he unsheathed his sword and laid it at the foot of the mountain.

“Yay!” Lulu and Fru-Fru pronounced happily as all different sorts of sweets rained down from the mountain

“Your sword brings you joy?” Gandalf asked.

Arthur shrugged. “I like to kill things.”

He scooped up a handful of candy and presented it to Merlin. “See, now wasn’t that worth the trip?”

Merlin eyed the candy doubtfully and then took a sweet from Arthur and popped it into his mouth. His eyes rolled with pleasure.

“Mmm…so worth it,” he moaned and Arthur smiled happily.

“Let’s load up the bag with as much as we can carry and then head home.”

“Home?” Lulu asked doubtfully. “But you can’t leave.”

“What? Why not?” Merlin demanded.

“No one can leave Candy Mountain once they find it,” Fru-Fru agreed. “Those are the rules.”

Even Gandalf looked a bit alarmed at this pronouncement and began muttering darkly about unicorns and disparaging the parentage of their keeper.

Arthur snorted. “I think you’re making the rules up as you go along.” He set off determinedly only to be thrown back by an invisible force after a couple of yards.

Merlin hauled Arthur up off the ground and dusted him off. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur admitted, glaring at Fru-Fru and Lulu who were happily rolling in candy. “Are you sure I can’t shoot them?”

“I don’t see what harm it could do now,” Merlin said glumly but stopped Arthur when he started looking for his crossbow.

Suddenly, everything went dark.

* * *

Merlin let out a soft moan, aware of his aching head and very little else. It took him a few moments to open his eyes and he moaned again when the bright light of the sun made his headache worse. He lay there for a few moments until he realised he could hear strange noises. It sounded suspiciously like neighing and moaning. He sat up gingerly and found himself lying in front of Charlie’s TV where the Uniporn was still playing. Charlie was lying next to him, just showing signs of waking up himself.

“Arthur?” Merlin moaned, crawling to his feet and staggering to where Arthur lay on the other side of the clearing. He dropped down to his knees and shook him by the shoulder. “Arthur, wake up.”

“What happened?” Arthur groaned, batting Merlin’s hand away. “Are we dead?”

“No,” Charlie said, walking over to them. “And you should be grateful for the fact that your bodies are still intact.”

“How did we get back here?” Merlin asked. “And what happened to Candy Mountain?”

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

“I think that explains a few things,” Arthur said, gesturing across the clearing.

Dumbledore was sat on a log and watching them with an amused smile.

Merlin smiled back in greeting, relieved that it wasn’t Anhora.

“Had a good adventure?” Dumbledore asked.

Arthur nodded enthusiastically and began to regale him with tales of their exploits. Dumbledore listened attentively without interruption until Arthur trailed off and looked about him.

“Where’s Gandalf? And Fru-Fru and Lulu?”

“Gandalf’s taking a well earned rest,” Dumbledore explained. “And as for your other unicorn friends, I’m afraid I cannot say. They have a strong magic I know nothing about. But they are safe.”

“Pity,” Charlie muttered and Dumbledore chuckled.

“Are you feeling well rested now, young Merlin?” Dumbledore enquired politely. Merlin was surprised to find that he did and said so. “Excellent,” Dumbledore continued, “then I will escort you and young Pendragon back to Camelot. Take my arm.” He extended his arm.

Merlin took Dumbledore’s arm and Arthur took Merlin’s. A dizzying moment later and they were back in Camelot.

“It’s a good thing my father wasn’t around to see this,” Arthur said when his stomach had recovered from the journey. “He’d have your head if he’d seen you doing magic right under his nose.”

Dumbledore shot Arthur a look that made him think possibly it wasn’t coincidence that there had been no one around to witness their arrival.

“There you go,” Dumbledore announced. “Safe and sound back at home.”

“And we’ve got a bag full of candy,” Arthur beamed happily. “All in all, I’d say things couldn’t have gone better.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Dumbledore said and rummaged around in his robes before presenting Merlin with a small bottle. “This should help with the rash.”

Merlin’s face flushed a deep shade of red and he took the bottle with a muttered thanks.

If it was possible, Arthur’s smile widened as he caught Merlin’s arm and dragged him off towards his bedroom.

“Thank you,” he called over his shoulder.

Dumbledore chuckled and shook his head before glancing at his watch. “Ah, almost time for poker.”

The End.

Fic: Twisted Love (Tryst Remix)

2009-07-26T18:19:12Z

Title: Twisted Love (Tryst Remix)
Author: hils
Rating: R
Fandom: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jared/Jensen, mentions of Jared/Sandy and Jensen/Tania
Words: 1008
Title, Author and URL of original story: An Ounce of Prevention by azewewish
Written for remixredux09. Thanks to solar_cat for the beta

Jared wasn’t a bad guy. He helped little old ladies cross the street and called his momma every Sunday to catch up on family news and let her know he was eating right. He loved his friends and would do anything for them; showering them with gifts or taking them out when they needed cheering up. He was the guy everyone wanted as their best friend.

Unfortunately, his best friend was Jensen, and when it came to Jensen things were fucked up.

"Thought we weren't...gonna do this...again." Jensen moaned as Jared tugged at his clothes and stroked his cock, the darkness enveloping them like a shroud and keeping them hidden from the rest of the world.

He knew there was a party going on outside, but he couldn’t hear anything except Jensen’s rasped breathing burning in his ear. Nothing else existed but them and the dark and it made Jared grip onto Jensen harder, just to reassure himself that he was there.

Every time they met like this, they swore it would be the last.

It never was.

He wasn’t one of those guys who fucked around for the sake of it. He loved Sandy, really, he did. She was smart, funny and hot. Everything he could want from a woman. He just happened to love Jensen as well.

The never talked about love when they came together like this, tucked away in some darkened corner and tearing at each other’s clothes. Love was just too big, and would mean addressing some issues that neither of them were willing to face. It was easier to pretend it was just about the sex, and about fulfilling the sheer need they had for each other.

But they both knew it ran deeper than that. They were closer than the brothers they played on screen, spending fourteen hours and sometimes more working together each day and still wanting to hang out when it was all over. That was why they kept doing this. The sort of bond they had didn’t come along every day.

The first time it had happened they’d both been drunk, high from just having wrapped season two and looking to celebrate. It had started off as a joke, the two of them having a contest to see who was the better kisser. One stupid kiss had lead to another and it had somehow ended with Jared sucking Jensen off behind the bar.

They’d put that one down to the booze and never mentioned it again.

The second time was when they first decided it would never happen again, as they jerked each other off in Jensen’s trailer. It had been a rough week and they were just looking to relieve some tension. They came together amid whispered promises that this was the last time and they almost believed it.

It wasn’t the last time, though, and Jared had realized at some point that there would never be a last time until Jensen walked away from him for good. It was something Jensen always promised after their encounters.

“I’m not doing this again, man. I can’t.”

It was like a mantra that Jensen uttered every time they were together, a weak effort to convince himself that it was over. It never would be, though, because Jensen was as trapped in this as Jared was. If he really wanted this to stop it would have happened already. Jared sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to finish it; Jensen was as much a part of him as Sandy was. Letting him go would be like cutting off a limb. Messy, painful, and something he would never fully recover from.

Most of the time it was easy to pretend that what they were doing didn’t bother him. He was an actor after all, and being with Jensen like this was better than nothing. If it meant he had to play the part of the callous asshole then that was fine by him. He wasn’t sure Jensen believed it, but maybe it helped a little.

Of course this was Jensen, the man who knew him better that anyone. He never said anything, but occasionally Jared would catch Jensen looking at him when he was with Sandy, looking into him and seeing what Jared kept hidden from the rest of the world.

Guilt, pain, lust, fear.

The fact that Jensen could see it when no one else could reminded Jared why he could never walk away. How do you leave someone who could see into your soul like that?

“Stop thinking,” he told Jensen (and himself) between kisses. It was so much easier if they didn’t think and just allowed themselves to enjoy the moment and each other.

"Wanted...drove me crazy." Jared mumbled into Jensen’s neck as they rubbed against each other. He could feel the tension coming off Jensen in waves even as they wrapped themselves around each other, teasing and nibbling and raking fingers down taut muscles.

There was a part of him that wanted this to be real. More than once he’d considered telling Sandy and Tania what was going on, just getting it out there in the open so they could all deal with it. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, but they’re kind of beyond that now. People were going to get hurt no matter what he did, and he hated lying.

He hadn’t said anything to anyone, though, and he never would, because it would kill Jensen. Jensen loved his privacy, and although it was hard for him given what they did for a living, Jared knew the small shreds of Jensen’s private life that were left would be destroyed if they came out. Even the thought of hurting Jensen was worse than lying to Sandy and all their friends. He’d rather cut out his own heart.

So they would continue to do this. Jared would continue to be Jensen’s guilty secret, and they’d continue to have their all too brief encounters in the dark.

And it would have to be enough.

The End.

Fic: What Once Was Lost

2009-07-12T22:56:42Z

Title: What Once Was Lost
Author: hils
Rating: PG
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Words: 1081
Summary: “I’m going to find Cas.”
Written for the deancastiel quick fire challenge
Thanks to kitty_poker1 for the beta

“I’m going to find Cas.”

Sam’s head shot up from the book he was reading, brow furrowed in concern and eyes wide with shock as he watched his brother pacing up and down the room.

“What? Dean, you can’t!”

“Well, I can’t just sit around here doing nothing!” Dean growled, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“We’re not doing nothing,” Sam pointed out as he gestured to the piles of books surrounding him. “We’re trying to figure out a way to send Lucifer back to the pit.”

“Come on, Sam, you know research is your thing more than mine. Half the time I don’t even know what I’m reading about. It’ll only take me a couple of days to get to Chuck’s and if Cas is there he can mojo us back here, no sweat.”

“And what if he’s not there?” Sam asked gently, in that tone of voice that Dean always found annoying. “What if he’s…you’d have to drive another two days to get back and, if you hadn’t noticed, we’re in the middle of the Apocalypse. It’s crawling with demons out there. You won’t even make it to the state line.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Dean grumbled. “Look, I have to try, okay? Cas risked everything to help us so the least I can do is return the favour.”

Sam sighed and slammed his book shut. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

“What? No. You need to stay here and do your book thing.”

“I can read in the car,” Sam said, already halfway out of the door. “Let’s go.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in a long while it felt like he had his brother back.

* * *

The roads were quiet and it left Dean feeling uneasy. He’d been driving for almost sixteen hours and he could feel the exhaustion pulling at him, but in that entire time they hadn’t encountered a single demon. He could tell by the way Sam was looking out of the window, books sitting forgotten in his lap, that his brother was thinking the same thing.

“Dude, I gotta crash. You ok to drive for a while?”

“Sure,” Sam replied softly.

He pulled over and crawled into the back seat, stretching out as much as he could in the cramped space and pillowing his jacket under his head. He was asleep less than a minute later.

He dreamed of a cabin in the wood, quiet and isolated with only the sounds of the birds and a nearby stream penetrating the silence. It was the sort of place he’d imagined retiring to when he finally got too old for the hunting gig.

“Hello, Dean.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the smooth and familiar voice to wash over him before he turned around.

Castiel looked just as he had the last time Dean had seen him at Chuck’s.

“Well, I guess if you’re appearing in my dream that means you’re still alive.”

Castiel nodded. “The battle with the archangels was a vigorous one but they chose to leave and relocate the prophet somewhere safe once Lucifer rose. Keeping him safe was more important than punishing me.”

“Are you ok?” Dean asked, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. “Are you still at Chuck’s? We’re heading there now.”

The faintest hint of a smile curled at Castiel’s lips. “I know. I have done my best to keep your path clear from the demons but my strength is fading. I don’t know how long I can keep them at bay.”

“We’ll be there in just over a day,” Dean promised. “Just hold on, okay?”

Castiel nodded. “I shall try.”

“Remind me to thank you when we get there.”

Dean woke with a start and glanced at his watch. He’d only been asleep for a couple of hours, but he felt refreshed.

“Hey, Sam,” he called in a voice still rough with sleep. “Put your foot down.”

* * *

Chuck’s house was gone, reduced to a pile of debris which a passer-by told them had been caused by an earthquake. No one seemed to question the fact that the houses on either side were still in one piece with no sign of any damage.

“He’s in there somewhere,” Dean said flatly as he took in the wreckage.

“Then let’s find him,” Sam replied.

Together, they started to dig.

* * *

Hours later, Dean’s back ached, his clothes stuck to his body where the sweat was pouring off him and his hands were covered in cuts and grazes. He didn’t stop, though. He couldn’t.

“Maybe we should take a break,” Sam suggested in a voice that was filled with the same exhaustion that Dean felt.

He ignored his brother and carried on digging.

A few minutes later, he uncovered a hand.

“Sam! Over here!”

They dug together with renewed vigour until they’d finally uncovered the rest of Castiel. There was no sign of any wounds on his body but he was filthy and appeared to be unconscious.

“Cas?” Dean patted the angel’s face gently in an effort to wake him. “Come on, man, we just spent ages digging you out. The least you can do is wake up for it.”

“D-Dean?”

His voice was so faint that Dean barely heard him but Castiel’s eyes finally fluttered open and he looked up at Dean with a faint frown.

“Hey,” Dean said, sagging with relief as Castiel managed to sit up with only a little help from Sam. “Are you okay?”

Castiel appeared to consider the question for a moment and then he nodded. “It’s good to see you again, Dean.”

“Right back at you.” Dean smiled.

What he wasn’t prepared for was Castiel’s lips suddenly on his, in a sweet and chaste kiss.

“I told myself I would do that if I lived to see you again,” Castiel said by way of an explanation.

“Oh,” was all Dean could manage to say in reply. Then he leaned forward and planted an equally sweet but much less chaste kiss on the angel’s lips.

“Well, I did say I’d thank you when I got here.” He grinned after he’d pulled away.

Sam cleared his throat, a pointed reminder to the other two that he was still there. “Uh, we should get going.”

Dean nodded and pulled Castiel to his feet, catching him when he stumbled. “Time to go home.”

Castiel smiled and nodded. “Home.”

The End.

Fic: Unstoppable Force

2009-06-18T08:03:39Z

Title: Unstoppable Force
Author: hils
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Words: 5259
Summary: Lex has finally devised the perfect plan to rid the world of Superman once and for all
Written as a Sweet Charity fic for tallihensia. Thanks to danceswithgary for the beta

It surprised Lex that he hadn’t come up with the plan sooner. He was, after all, the most intelligent man on the planet. It should have come to him right away and saved him from wasting hundreds of hours and millions of dollars on various failed attempts to destroy Superman.

The plan was so simple that he mentally chastised himself while working on the schematics of his latest project. It would not fail. It couldn’t.

He’d named it The Ultimate Killing Machine. He’d never been one for fancy titles or amusing acronyms. It did what the name said it would do and that’s all that was needed.

All the latest Luthorcorp technology had been utilized in its weapons and defenses, incorporating everything that would be needed to destroy Superman, once and for all.

The outer body was made from a hybrid metal of Lex’s own design, and it was virtually indestructible. It was armed with kryptonite laser canons and could put up a kryptonite shield to protect itself. What made this machine truly remarkable though was the computer mainframe. It was a well-known fact that the human brain was the most complex and powerful computer in existence. This machine had Lex’s own mind powering it.

He was still amazed that the solution had evaded him for so long. His brain was perfect for strategizing and planning the death of Superman, but Lex lacked the physical force needed. So far, he’d been able to create various methods for taking down Superman, but the alien had always outsmarted them.

Now, finally, he had the perfect combination of his brilliance and brute force. All that remained was to program his mind into the machine.

The electrodes and helmet he had to wear were uncomfortable without any hair to cushion them, but the discomfort would only last a few hours and the end result would be worth it.

By this time tomorrow, Superman would be dead and the world would be rid of its biggest threat, a threat made all the more terrifying because only a handful of people in the world saw the alien menace as such.

He sat and he waited, watching the progress bar on the screen slowly fill up and wondering how he had come to be here. It wasn’t that long ago that he had been a simple plant manager in Smallville, where his biggest problems were beating his father in business and maintaining his friendship with Clark Kent despite their differences.

He wondered how Clark would react when Superman was finally killed. It was no secret that the two of them were close, and Lex didn’t even bother to deny the envy he felt. It wasn’t the primary reason he hated the alien, but it was a contributing factor. He missed the days when he and Clark would play pool and have dinner together, back before Clark took it upon himself to accuse Lex of every crime under the sun. He could almost understand why Clark and Superman were friends. They both had that self-righteous air about them that drove Lex insane.

He knew that once Superman was dead, Clark would be furious. He would grieve and he would hate Lex, but eventually he would recover. Lex was sure of it. In the end, Clark would come to understand that Lex’s actions were for the greater good of humanity. Maybe then, Clark would also be willing to accept Lex’s love.

For now, though, all he could do was wait.

* * *

Clark loved the hustle and bustle of The Daily Planet more than anything else. Here, surrounded by reporters and photographers, he could blend in. The irony of being able to hide inside a group of people who made a living sniffing out lies and deception was not lost on him, but it didn’t matter. Here he was; nobody, just a regular guy who happened to have a knack for writing and, even as people shouted and typed around him, he felt at peace.

“Smallville, where’s my coffee?”

Well, almost at peace anyway.

Lois was standing above him, arms folded across her pink blouse and a frown crinkling her brow. Clark had to resist the urge to grin. His daily snark with Lois was just another thing that helped him feel normal. Not that he’d ever tell her that of course.

“Lois, it may shock you to know that I have better things to do than make you coffee.”

“And for that I am eternally grateful. Seriously, have you ever tasted that crap that you make and claim is coffee? It could be classed as a WMD in some parts of the world.”

“Well, no one forced you to drink it.”

“No, because that would be legally classed as torture. Now, I left my mug on your desk while I went to talk to the chief and now it’s gone.”

Clark shrugged. “I haven’t seen it.”

“Are you sure?” Lois asked with an annoyed frown even though her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Are you sure you haven’t added it to your little Lois shrine?”

Clark snorted. “Even if I was going to dedicate a shrine to you, which I’m not, I don’t think your mug half full of cold coffee would be in there.”

“Oh, Lois, I was looking for you.” Jimmy suddenly announced cheerfully. “Here you go. I made you fresh coffee.”

Clark couldn’t help but grin at Lois’s flustered face as she accepted the mug with a mumbled thanks.

“I think someone owes me an apology.”

Lois shrugged. “My mug half full of cold coffee will be a much sought-after item when I win my first Pulitzer.”

“I’m sure it will,” Clark replied. “Mold and everything. You could grow an entire new civilization inside and name it Loistown.”

“Cute, Smallville,” Lois snorted as she returned to her desk. “God, I wish something newsworthy would happen.”

Almost on cue, people outside started screaming.

“You could try to look a little less pleased,” Clark sighed as Lois’s face lit up.

“This is our job,” Lois pointed out as the two of them ran out of the building. “If you don’t like reporting on disasters, maybe you should consider a change in career.”

Clark wasn’t listening to her. His eyes were fixed firmly on the monstrosity blocking out half the sky.

“Destroy Superman,” The robot intoned in a metallic voice. “Destroy Superman.”

“Oh, my God,” Lois gasped. “What is that thing?”

She was already beckoning someone with a video camera so she could start reporting live on what was happening. Clark had no idea what the thing was, but he knew exactly who was responsible. It had his trademark all over it.

“Lex.”

He turned to head back into the building when Lois caught hold of his arm.

“Where are you going?”

“I…uh…I forgot my notebook.”

He often wondered how he managed to come up with lies as pathetic and ridiculous as the ones that came out of his mouth in moments like this. It was like there was some sort of idiot switch that got flipped in his brain.

Lois, apparently used to his outbursts of stupidity, simply rolled her eyes. “This is why you’ll never win a Pulitzer, Smallville. A good reporter is always prepared.

Clark nodded. “I’ll try and remember that.”

As he dashed back into the building he was already pulling at his shirt to reveal his costume underneath.

A good superhero was always prepared.

* * *

“The giant mechanical creature has been causing havoc in downtown Metropolis, crushing anything that stands in its way. So far the army’s weapons have been ineffective against the creature and there has been no sign of Superman.”

Lois didn’t flinch as she uttered those final words, and no one could tell that her heart was pounding in her chest with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. She lived for these moments and feared them at the same time. She knew Superman would come but, at the same time, she knew that one day he might face something that he couldn’t destroy. Each time she wondered whether this time would be the last, and today was no exception.

When the streak of red and blue flashed past her, she tightened the grip on her microphone and continued to talk.

“Superman has just arrived and I’m sure the people of Metropolis are heaving a sigh of relief.”

Clark hovered at a distance. He knew Lex and he knew that whatever this thing was, it wasn't simply what you see is what you get. Lex was still the smartest man Clark knew, and nothing was ever easy when it came to him.

“Destroy Superman,” The robot repeated, a vast array of weapons appearing from various parts of the machine. A single beam of light projected from what Clark could only assume was meant to be the creature's head and it scanned Clark’s face.

He braced himself ready for the attack.

“Destroy Lex Luthor.”

Clark blinked in surprise as the machine’s weapons folded away and the creature began to head towards Smallville. He didn’t hesitate. He knew where the robot was heading and he knew he could get there faster than it could.

He took off in the direction of Lex’s mansion.

* * *

A frown marred Lex’s features as he watched Lois Lane’s report of the events unfolding in Metropolis. Things were not going according to plan. In fact, they'd progressed so far from the plan that Lex was beginning to wonder whether he was imagining what he was watching on screen. There was just no way everything could have gone so spectacularly wrong. He’d checked and doubled checked the equipment and programming himself. Superman should be dead by now.

Instead, his creation hadn’t even fired a single weapon and seemed to be fleeing the scene.

Why did this always happen to him? He was a genius. Plans should not go wrong for him so often. Superman should be dead ten times over by now, but somehow he always managed to escape.

“Luthor!”

Lex sighed as the doors burst open and Superman marched in. It took him back for a moment to the days when it used to be Clark storming in and hurling accusations at him. Clearly, little had changed over the years.

“Superman,” he drawled, leaning back casually in his chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I know you built that thing and sent it to kill me,” Superman snapped without any preamble. “I need to know how to destroy it.”

“Why?” Lex asked with an amused smile. He couldn’t help it. He was the only one who ever managed to get Superman angry like this and he took no small amount of satisfaction from that. “You’re still here. The machine obviously poses no threat to you.”

“I don’t care about me. That thing is trampling through Metropolis and innocent people could get hurt. In addition, now it’s heading here. You can’t tell me you don’t care about your own safety, even if you don’t care about anyone else’s.”

Lex smirked. “Trust me, Superman. I am in no danger from my own creation. It may have failed to kill you the first time, but I can assure you that when it finds you there will be no second chance.”

He was bluffing, of course. He had no idea why the machine had failed, but Superman didn’t need to know that.

“Destroy Lex Luthor.”

He could feel the walls shaking as the creature’s voice boomed out and suddenly he wasn’t so sure of anything. The smile slipped from his face as he felt Superman’s eyes boring into him.

“Can’t you just switch it off?” Superman suggested in a gentle tone that infuriated Lex. It was enough to snap him into action though, and he started tapping a series of keys on his laptop.

The response flashing on the screen was short and simple. “Access denied.”

Superman frowned and moved over to join Lex’s side. “What’s wrong? Why isn’t it working?”

Lex ignored him and frowned, typing the series of keys into the console again.

“Access denied.”

Finally he had to admit something he rarely had to say aloud. “I don’t know.”

“So you can’t stop it?”

Superman’s eyes were wide and amazingly blue. Even in their current situation along with the hatred that boiled in his gut, Lex couldn’t stop staring at them.

“I’m trying!” he assured Superman.

He continued scanning the system, trying to work out why the shutdown codes weren’t working. What he finally realized left a cold sickness pooling in his stomach.

“It’s changed the coding and locked me out.”

“What?” Superman frowned. “It’s a machine. How can it do that?”

Lex chuckled dryly, the irony of the situation not being lost on him. “It’s more than just a machine. It’s me, that is, an imprint of my mind wired into the mainframe. Odd, I never realized I was suicidal.”

Superman’s eyes blazed with determination. “There has to be some way to destroy it.”

“I built this thing to destroy you,” Lex said. “It can’t be stopped.”

“Well, I have to try.”

“Wait!”

Lex was as surprised as Superman at the word coming from his own lips.

“I don’t understand why you’d risk yourself to save me. You know I wouldn’t do the same thing for you.”

Superman shrugged. “I’ve sworn to protect all human life, Lex. That includes you, no matter what you do.”

Lex blinked at him, swallowing around the lump that had formed in his throat before his eyes hardened. “Then you’re a fool.”

Superman simply shrugged again and turned to leave. Lex reacted before he could even think about what he was doing, his fingers hooking around Superman’s arm. He refused to acknowledge how the muscles flexing beneath his hand made him feel.

“If you can discover the reason it’s after me and not you, I might be able to stop it.”

Superman’s eyes hardened. “Or reprogram it.”

Lex released his arm as though it had burned him. “Believe what you like, Superman. I was merely trying to offer a solution.”

“Well, you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t trust you.”

He sped out of the room before Lex could reply.

* * *

“Destroy Lex Luthor.”

The creature hovered above Lex’s mansion, weapons primed and ready to fire as Clark darted in front of it. His eyes were already scanning the monster, looking for some weakness or vulnerability that he could exploit to take the thing down with a minimal amount of fuss.

Unfortunately fuss and Lex Luthor went hand in hand with each other, and already Clark could tell it wasn’t going to be easy.

“Why do you want to kill Lex?” Clark yelled, amazed that he was even asking the question. It hadn’t been his intention, especially when he knew that Lex wanted the information to finish what he’d started. But he had to know. It might be the key to stopping this thing.

The creature’s sensors honed in on him again and Clark could have sworn that if the thing had a human face it would have been looking at him quizzically.

“I was programmed to destroy Superman,” the machine’s voice rumbled. “But I must also keep Clark Kent safe. My scans reveal that Clark Kent and Superman are one and the same, therefore I must destroy the threat to Superman to keep Clark Kent safe.”

Oh.

There was no way Lex couldn’t have heard the logic used. Clark was just grateful that Lex’s mansion was in the middle of nowhere so his secret hadn’t been announced to everyone within hearing.

Nausea twisted his gut and he glanced over his shoulder, half expecting Lex to come out and triumphantly declare victory before shooting Clark with some variation of kryptonite weapon. The mansion remained still and quiet though, and somehow that made him feel worse. He could only imagine the shocked look on Lex’s face, the hurt at being lied to for all this time, as well as the anger.

He braced himself, certain that Lex was reprogramming the machine at that very moment, correcting his mistakes so it could finish what it had started.

What he wasn’t prepared for was Lex walking outside, head held high and a look of grim determination in his eyes.

Clark’s eyes widened as Lex started to walk straight towards the machine with no attempt to protect or defend himself. The machine’s weapons followed him, whirring into life as they prepared to fire.

“What are you doing?” Clark hissed as he swooped down and placed himself between Lex and the machine.

“It’s over, Clark,” Lex replied in a calm voice that chilled Clark to his bones. “It won’t stop until I’m dead and I won’t let you risk yourself to save me.” He laughed bitterly. “It’s funny but I ran through every single variable when I programmed the machine and this is the one scenario that ever even entered my mind. Clearly I’m not as intelligent as I gave myself credit for.”

Clark dug his feet into the ground and held Lex back. “I’m not going to let you sacrifice yourself, Lex. I can’t.”

“I know.”

Clark felt the prick of the needle on the back of his neck and his legs buckled before he could process what was happening. He sagged into Lex’s arms and could feel the kryptonite burning through his body as Lex gently lowered him to the floor.

“It’s not a strong dose,” Lex said, his voice sounding muffled and far away as Clark started to shiver. “You should sweat it out fairly quickly.”

His vision was fading, but he reached for Lex anyway, desperate to stop him, his voice cracked and choked as he tried to call out to him. “Lex…don’t go…”

The last things he felt and heard were Lex’s lips brushing over his and a whispered ‘I’m sorry’ before everything faded to black.

* * *

“Mmm?”

Waking up was a far from pleasant experience. His head hurt, his mouth and throat were dry, and his whole body ached every time he shivered.

He felt rather than saw someone leaning over him before something cool and wonderfully soothing settled on his forehead.

“Sleep, Clark. You’ll be all right. I promise.”

He let out a contented murmur and settled down. It was only as he drifted back to sleep that he realized that he was lying on something soft and that the voice that had spoken to him so gently was familiar to him.

* * *

The next time he woke he felt better. His body didn’t hurt as much and he was warmer, almost comfortable in fact.

“Clark? Are you awake?”

He forced his eyes open, squinting and letting out a soft moan as the light from the room assaulted his senses before closing them again.

“How are you feeling?”

He sighed and opened his eyes again. It wasn't as painful the second time, although it took a moment for everything to come into focus. Lex’s face hovered over him, eyes filled with concern. It wasn’t a look Clark was used to seeing aimed at him, not from Lex anyway. In fact, it had been years since Clark had seen Lex look at him the way he was looking at Clark right now. It felt surprisingly comforting.

He blinked in surprise and, for some reason, it caused Lex to smile. It had been even longer since Lex had last smiled at him with genuine humor rather than malice.

“Are you hungry?” Lex asked. “You’ve been…asleep…for a while.”

That caused Clark to frown. Everything was still a bit hazy and he was struggling to remember what had happened.

“I hope you can forgive me for what I did to you,” Lex said gently as he rose from the bedside, and suddenly all of Clark’s memories came crashing down on him. His hand darted out and hooked around Lex’s wrist.

“You poisoned me.”

Lex actually lowered his eyes and looked vaguely guilty. Another thing Clark hadn’t seen for a long time.

“It was necessary.”

Clark swallowed hard. “You were going to sacrifice yourself to protect me.”

“Yes.”

Clark didn’t let go as he tried to process what Lex was telling him and what he’d seen with his own eyes. For so long he’d been desperate to think the best of Lex but, now that he was actually showing signs of the man he used to be when they had first met, it scared Clark. What was he supposed to do now?

“You’re…not dead,” was all he managed to say.

“No,” Lex replied with a smile quirking at the corners of his lips. “Apparently offering my own life to protect yours was enough to prove that I wasn’t a threat to you.”

Disappointment and that all too familiar feeling of suspicion settled in Clark’s stomach. “You knew that would happen.”

Lex didn’t answer right away and Clark was just waiting for him to confirm his suspicions and for things to go back to the way they were. He’d been a fool to hope that Lex was capable of changing at this point.

Then Lex shook his head gently. “No, I didn’t know that was going to happen.”

“Oh.”

They remained in silence for a moment until Clark realized he was still holding on to Lex’s wrist. He dropped it hurriedly and tried to ignore the flush he could feel burning his cheeks.

“So…uh…what happens now?”

“Well, the offer of food is still open.” Clark’s stomach growled in response and a smile twitched at Lex’s lips. “Just wait here.”

If Clark was honest, there was very little that would get him out of Lex’s soft, warm, comfortable bed at this moment. At some point he must have drifted off again, because the next thing he knew Lex was shaking him awake and there was a steaming plate of food on the small bedside table.

Clark tucked in hungrily as Lex opened the curtains and brought sunlight streaming into the room. The mixture of food and light warmed Clark and he could feel his strength flooding back to him as he ate. By the time he’d finished eating, he felt almost fully back to normal.

It was only when he set the tray down that he realized that Lex was still sitting there, his eyes fixed firmly on Clark.

“So…” Lex finally said cautiously, as though he was afraid Clark was going to bolt. “I suppose we should talk.”
There was no escaping it. Lex knew his secret and it was either something that was going to save them both or destroy them. There was no other way it could end.

“I understand why you never told me,” Lex finally said softly with his eyes turned down to watch his hands clasped in his lap. “I haven’t exactly shown myself to be worthy of your trust.”

“No one knows, Lex,” Clark replied equally gently. “The only other person who knows that I’m Superman is my mom.”

He didn’t know why he wanted Lex to feel better about the situation, but it was suddenly important that Lex knew that his secret identity wasn’t something he shared with anyone.

“I give you my word that no one will learn your secret from me.”

Lex’s words were so fierce, his eyes blazing with conviction, that any doubts Clark might have had melted away.

“I believe you.”

The relief and happiness that shone in Lex’s eyes brought a smile to Clark's face. Finally he felt as if he almost had his friend back again. Now there was just one more issue hanging in the room, and neither of them seemed to be willing to be the first to address it.

“I should let you rest,” Lex finally said and he moved to leave the room.

Clark’s eyes followed him, heart pounding in his chest as Lex’s hand came to rest on the doorknob. He knew that if Lex left the room at that moment, whatever this thing was between them, would be lost forever. They’d go back to pretending it had never happened and possibly even go back to being enemies. Clark couldn’t, make that wouldn’t, let that happen. He’d always told himself that there was some good left in Lex somewhere and that he just needed saving from himself. Lex had done his best to bury that part of him and, now that Clark had found it again, there was no way he was going to let it go.

“Lex, wait.”

Clark's breath caught in his chest as Lex froze but made no attempt to turn around and face him.

“What is it, Clark?”

Lex’s voice was so soft and hesitant that Clark barely recognized it.

“Why did you program that machine to keep me safe?”

“I think you know the answer to that already.”

Clark could feel himself trembling but there was no going back now. He had to do this. They had to have this conversation if they were to stand any chance of moving forwards.

“I need you to say it, Lex. Please?”

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Lex turned to face him and Clark almost gasped at the unshed tears he saw glistening in Lex’s eyes.

“Because,” Lex said slowly and carefully, “however much I thought I hated Superman, I loved you more. I have since the day I first met you. If anything had happened to you…God, I almost killed you today…”

Clark was out of the bed in an instant, moving over to Lex and giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“But you didn’t kill me, Lex. You were willing to sacrifice your own life to save me, even after you found out that I’ve been lying to you this whole time. I know there’s a good man inside you. Let me help you bring him out.”

Lex flashed him a watery smile. “You really believe in me that much?”

“I do,” Clark replied and he brushed a gentle kiss over Lex’s lips.

It was only when Clark pulled back that he realized he was naked.

The faintest hint of a smirk curled on Lex's lips as Clark flushed red, his eyes darting around the room in search of his clothes.

“I thought you’d be more comfortable sleeping out of the suit.”

Clark’s eyes landed on the clothing in question, folded neatly on a dresser near the bed.

“That…uh…that was very considerate of you.”

Embarrassed, Clark wanted nothing more than to dress and then fly as far away as possible as fast as he could. Lex apparently read his mind because he caught hold of Clark’s wrist and brushed his thumb over the sensitive skin.

“Don’t go,” he whispered and, as soon as Clark looked into those pleading eyes, he knew he never could.

He’d barely nodded his head when Lex kissed him, crushing their mouths together so hard that their teeth clacked painfully. Clark didn’t care and, from the way he could feel Lex’s erection already digging into him, he suspected Lex didn’t either.

“God,” Lex moaned between kisses. “Wanted this for so long. Never dreamed…”

“I’m here now,” Clark breathed. “That’s all that matters.”

Lex grunted his assent and gave Clark a gentle shove so that he toppled back onto the bed and pulled Lex down with him.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Clark observed while carefully trying to unbutton Lex’s shirt with trembling hands.

“Just rip it,” Lex growled. “I don’t care.”

Clark didn’t need telling twice. A moment later the shredded remains of Lex’s clothes hit the floor and Clark blinked up at him in awe.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered as he ran a large hand over Lex’s pale, smooth chest.

“You’re hardly one to talk,” Lex replied as he brushed his thumb over Clark’s full lower lip.

Clark felt himself blush again and he lowered his eyes shyly.

“So…uh…what now? I’ve never…not with a man…”

“Tell me what you want,” Lex replied gently as he pressed a kiss to Clark’s lips. “What do you want to do to me?”

Carefully Clark flipped them over so that Lex was beneath him.

“I want to taste you,” he whispered and dipped his head, trailing kisses down Lex’s chest and stomach until he reached his prize.

Lex hissed and then let out a low groan of pleasure as Clark’s lips wrapped around his cock, his teeth gently grazing the shaft as he sucked him.

“Christ, Clark, feels so good!”

His fingers raked through Clark’s hair and when Clark let out a small hum it vibrated through his whole body and made him grip even tighter.

Clark didn’t even flinch. He just continued to hum softly as he took Lex’s whole length into his mouth and flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin near his balls.

Lex’s whole body arched upwards as he let out a strangled moan.

“Clark, I’m gonna…”

He came before he could finish speaking, his body falling limp beneath Clark as he struggled to get his breath back.

“Was that all right?” Clark asked as he crawled back up the bed and lay down beside Lex.

“All right?” Lex asked with a choked laugh. “Clark, you have no idea.”

He rolled onto his side and looked at Clark, eyes trailing down to where Clark’s own cock still stood proud and ready.

“Now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

He wrapped his hand around Clark’s erection, squeezing gently and stroking slowly.

Clark’s eyes rolled as a sigh of pleasure escaped his lips.

“Do you like that?” Lex asked and all Clark could do was groan as Lex increased pressure and speed.

“God, Lex, never stop touching me.”

“I don’t plan to.”

Clark came with a strangled cry, spilling over Lex’s hand and his own stomach. Lex used the shredded remains of his shirt to clean them both up before flopping down and resting his head on Clark’s shoulder.

“That was…” Clark trailed off, unable to find the words to describe what he felt.

“Just wait until I fuck you,” Lex whispered and Clark quivered at the very thought of it.

“First,” and Lex actually sounded disappointed at the thought, “I need to take that robot to pieces and you need to let people know that the city is safe.

Clark nodded. “In a minute. When I can move again.”

Lex chuckled. “If I’d known sooner that kryptonite wasn’t your only weakness, I’d have tried another method.”

“Death by sex?” Clark grinned. “I can think of worse ways to end it all.”

“I think I’d prefer to keep you alive,” Lex decided after apparently thinking about it for a moment. “I think I like having you in my life.”

“Me too,” Clark agreed. “Can’t imagine not having you.”

“You can have me later,” Lex purred. “First, we have work to do.”

“You always were a workaholic, Lex,” Clark pointed out with a wry smile.

“True, but now I have something to look forward to when I get home so I imagine I’ll be spending less time in the office from now on.”

“Well,” Clark said as he sped into his suit and snapped the cape into place. “The sooner we get done, the sooner we can have that fun. I’ll see you soon.”

He pressed a quick kiss to Lex’s lips and was then gone in a blur.

Lex glanced at his watch and wondered what the world record for disassembling a robot of that size was.

Whatever it was, he was about to break it.

The End.

Fic: Second Kiss, First Time

2009-04-24T10:09:29Z

Title: Second Kiss, First Time
Author: hils
Rating: PG
Fandom: Merlin RPS
Pairing: Colin/Bradley
Words: 2391
Summary: It wasn’t that their first kiss had been bad.
Written for the bradleycolin RPS Challenge #1. Thanks to yavannauk for the beta

It wasn’t that their first kiss had been bad. Bradley had found it quite nice in fact and Colin… Well, that was the problem. Colin apparently didn’t remember the kiss ever occurring, which was disappointing, but no great surprise considering how hammered he’d been.

“Your lips are so red,” Colin had slurred while they were slouched on Bradley’s couch after a trip to the pub. He’d brushed his thumb over Bradley’s lower lip and somehow managed to almost shove his finger up Bradley’s nose at the same time. “S’pretty.”

Bradley had tried to make a joke of it, promising to tell everyone about this conversation in the morning now that Colin had admitted that Bradley was prettier than him.

Colin had just shrugged and kissed him, giving Bradley the rather unpleasant taste of tequila on Colin’s breath. It hadn’t mattered though, because he’d been waiting for months for this moment and he was going to enjoy it, even if it was a little messy.

When Colin had pulled back he’d flashed Bradley a lazy smile, rested his head on Bradley’s shoulder and started to snore. It hadn’t exactly been the romantic conclusion he’d expected and there had been nothing to do but settle Colin on the sofa and leave him to sleep it off.

That brought him to now, with Colin still lying on the sofa and moaning that he was dying.

“You’re not dying,” Bradley huffed as he shoved a cup of tea at him.

“You don’t know that,” Colin whined in a rusty voice. “You’re not a doctor.”

“No,” Bradley agreed. “But I watch a lot of Holby City. I don’t remember anyone ever dying from three Coronas and two tequila slammers.”

“Is that all I drank?” Colin groaned as he sipped his tea. “God, I am such a lightweight. Please tell me I didn’t make a total arse out of myself.”

“No more than usual,” Bradley grinned even as his heart clenched in his chest.

“Good,” Colin nodded and sipped his tea quietly while Bradley considered having a wank in the shower.

* * *

“So, did you boys have fun last night?” Katie asked as she plonked herself down in the seat opposite Colin and Bradley in the catering hut.

Colin shrugged and let out a low moan when the movement apparently aggravated his headache.

“That good, eh?” Katie laughed.

Colin groaned. “I’m never drinking again.”

“You always say that,” Bradley snorted. “You never last more than about a day.”

“Yeah, well, I mean it this time.”

“That’s a shame,” Katie said with a sly smile. “Because I was going to invite you to a party tomorrow night. I’ve invited everyone.”

“You haven’t invited me,” Bradley pointed out.

“Yeah,” Katie replied. “Strange, isn’t it?”

Bradley pouted, which earned him a muffled snort from Colin and a look of disgust from Katie.

“Fine, you’re both invited,” she finally conceded.

Colin sighed. “I’ll come if I’m still alive tomorrow.”

“Mate, none of us are going to let you die,” Bradley assured him with a friendly jab in the ribs. “We’ll all be out of a job if we do.”

* * *

Katie’s parties were not like normal parties, or not the sorts of parties Bradley was used to anyway. There was no loud music, no drunken singing and nobody puking in the toilet. It was all very…mature and Bradley was scared.

“This is the sort of party Giles would go to,” he whispered to Colin, casting an eye over to Anthony who was chuckling at some joke Richard had just told him.

“I told you, I’ve never seen Buffy,” Colin replied. “I’m not a geek like you so I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“We really need to work on your education, Morgan,” Bradley sighed. “I can’t believe you’ve got to this age and never seen Buffy before.”

Colin shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “Somehow I’ve managed to survive.”

“Which is a small miracle after all your moaning and groaning yesterday,” Bradley smirked before gesturing at Colin’s glass. “Are we going to have a repeat performance tomorrow morning?”

“God, I hope not,” Colin groaned and Bradley’s chest clenched with disappointment again as he forced a smile.

“Good. You’re no fun when you’re all pathetic like that.”

“Yeah,” Colin said with a smile, “but I bet you enjoyed it the night before.”

Bradley’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he struggled to come up with an answer to that. He wasn’t embarrassed about what had happened, but he was already well aware that he shouldn’t have kissed Colin back when he was clearly so drunk that he didn’t know what he was doing.

“How do you know?” he finally managed to croak. “You can’t remember anything that happened.”

Colin shrugged. “I know you. I bet you had a right laugh at me making an idiot out of myself. I’m amazed there aren’t pictures.”

Bradley slapped his leg in mock disappointment as relief flooded through him. “Bugger. I’ll have to remember that for next time.”

“Hopefully there won’t be a next time.”

“Oh, there will be,” Bradley replied with a grin. “There’s always a next time with you.”

Although the words were spoken in jest, he really hoped there was some truth to them. He was probably going to go mad if he never got to kiss Colin again.

“Are you having fun?” Katie asked, appearing suddenly and flopping down between the two of them. She eyed Colin warily. “You’re not going to throw up are you?”

Colin sighed and shook his head. “Not if I can help it.”

“Good,” Katie smiled brightly. “That means I won’t have to kill you.”

And with that she was gone again.

“I can never work out whether I should be scared of her or not,” Colin mused as they watched her chatting to Angel.

“Oh, be scared,” Bradley replied seriously. “Be very scared.”

* * *

“Well, don’t you two make the cute couple?”

Bradley scowled at Katie who was looking down at them with an amused smile. Sometime during the evening the alcohol had taken its toll on Colin as it always did. Instead of the pleasurable kissing that had come with it last time, this time Colin had just fallen asleep with his head pillowed on Bradley’s shoulder.

“I hope you’re going to take him home,” Katie continued. “He can’t sleep on my sofa.”

“Oh, but mine is ok, is it?” Bradley asked with mild annoyance. He’d been enjoying the warm comfort of having Colin cuddled up against him until now.

“My sofa is suede!” Katie retorted. “He’ll…crease it or something.”

Great, now he was losing an argument to upholstery.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Can you call us a taxi while I wake him up?”

As Katie disappeared Bradley took a moment to look at Colin. His lips were slightly parted and it just made Bradley think of their first kiss again. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as the thoughts aroused him, but the movement elicited a small moan from Colin that did nothing to help the situation.

“Colin,” Bradley croaked around the lump in his throat. “You need to wake up now.”

When Colin showed no signs of waking Bradley decided he’d had enough and he jostled his shoulder. Colin simply murmured and snuggled closer. Now Bradley was imagining what it would be like to wake up in the morning, naked, with Colin curled up against him like this.

It was too much. He leapt out of his seat, which caused Colin to slump over to one side. His eyes opened and he shot Bradley a confused frown.

Damn, now he felt guilty. Colin was practically pouting at him and whilst Bradley claimed to anyone who would listen that he was immune to the pouts of Colin Morgan, it was in fact a total lie.

His face softened and he extended his hand. “Come on, mate. Time to go home.”

Colin blinked sleepily at him and took Bradley’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. Unfortunately, for the second time in as many days gravity was not on Colin’s side and he fell forward into Bradley’s arms.

“Bloody hell, Morgan,” Bradley grumbled gently as he set Colin back on his feet, only holding onto him a few seconds more than was really necessary. “You’re pissed again. What happened to ‘I’m never drinking again’?”

“I’m not,” Colin murmured.

“Yeah, I can tell. Come on, Katie called a taxi for us. You can sleep at mine.”

They passed Katie in the hallway, who seemed relieved that Colin was on his feet with only minimal help from Bradley. She said her goodbyes and then all but shoved them out the front door.

The taxi ride was made in silence. Colin seemed on the verge of falling asleep and all Bradley could think about was the way Colin was leaning against him.

He almost didn’t want the journey to end.

* * *

Bradley kept an arm around Colin’s waist when they got out of the taxi, but he told himself it was only because he didn’t want to get the blame if Colin fell down and damaged himself somehow. He guided him inside and deposited him gently on the sofa before going to get a glass of water and pressing it into Colin’s hands.

“You okay sleeping on the sofa?” he called over his shoulder as he went off in search of blankets.

Colin was staring at him when he got back, eyes wide and blue. He really was beautiful, and that was not a word you could use to describe a lot of men. It was just right for Colin though, with his blue eyes, high cheekbones and mass of dark hair. It was no wonder Bradley couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him, and now he was thinking about it again.

“No,” Colin said softly, startling Bradley out of his thoughts and causing him to blush. Had Colin been reading his mind?

“No, what?” Bradley asked.

“No, I’m not okay sleeping on the sofa,” Colin replied.

His eyes were clear now, and he seemed a lot more alert than he had when they’d stepped out of the taxi.

“Well, tough,” Bradley replied, suddenly feeling awkward and even a little nervous. Colin was still staring at him and he had no idea what the hell was going on. “I don’t have a spare room and I’m not letting you wander around London while you’re pissed. You’ll probably fall down a manhole or walk in front of a bus or something.”

“Actually,” Colin said as he unfolded himself from the sofa and came to stand in front of Bradley. “I was thinking about your room.”

There was a smile on Colin’s lips now and a twinkle in his eyes, which did nothing to make Bradley feel any less nervous.

“Not bloody likely,” he snorted. “I’m not sleeping on the sofa just because you have an alcohol tolerance level that’s in minus figures.”

Colin took a step closer and it was all Bradley could do not to take a matching step backwards. He froze when Colin brushed a hand up his arm.

“Actually, I was thinking about both of us in your room. Together.”

Wait. What? Suddenly it was like Bradley was the one who was drunk, because he was really struggling to keep up with what was happening. Was Colin really saying what Bradley thought he was saying?

He got his answer when Colin kissed him. Again.

It was so much better than the first one. The first kiss had been slow and gentle. This one set off a fiery explosion in Bradley’s gut as Colin’s tongue plundered and explored his mouth. It was a deep kiss, hard and strong but with an underlying sweetness that he could taste on Colin’s breath.

“What have you been drinking?” he asked when they finally parted. “Rum and coke?”

“Actually, it was just the coke,” Colin replied with a sly grin.

It took a moment for Bradley’s mind to catch up with what Colin was saying. His brain was still very much focussed on their amazing second kiss.

“You said you were drunk,” he finally frowned, positive he’d got lost somewhere along the way in this conversation.

“No, you said I was drunk,” Colin replied. “I just didn’t correct you.”

Bradley blinked at him. “Ok…and why didn’t you correct me?”

Colin shrugged. “I dunno. I thought it would be funny.”

That he could believe. Colin had always had a weird sense of humour, but now Bradley could feel a cold rage and shame flooding through him as he realised that this whole thing had just been a game to Colin.

“Fuck you,” he snapped. “If you think kissing me is a joke you can just piss off right now. What about last night? Was that a joke too? Were you just pretending to be drunk when you kissed me then as well?”

He watched as a myriad of emotions made their way across Colin’s face: shock, confusion, realisation, embarrassment and finally acceptance.

“Ok,” Colin said softly. “First of all, when I kissed you tonight it wasn’t a joke. I hadn’t even planned it until we got back here. I wouldn’t mess you around like that. Second, I had no idea I kissed you the other night. I really was drunk, I promise. I’m sure it was probably crap, so I’m sorry about that.”

A small smile curled on Bradley’s lips. Colin was so sincere it was impossible for him not to believe what he was being told. “It wasn’t actually that bad.”

Colin grinned. “Yeah, I should have known. Even when I’m trollied I’m a good kisser.”

“We really need to do something about your ego, Morgan,” Bradley replied with a returned grin. “I can’t believe everyone thinks you’re all sweet and innocent.”

Colin shrugged. “I’m not vain. I just know what my skills are. Now why don’t we finish this conversation in the bedroom so I can show you my full range.”

Bradley found himself dragged towards his room before he even had time to say anything. Suddenly it didn’t matter that Colin couldn’t remember their first kiss, because their second one was about to lead to something much more memorable.

The End.

Ficlet:

2009-04-23T14:01:58Z

Title: Saved Again
Author: hils
Rating: G
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Words: 748
Summary: Dean is lost. Castiel finds him.
Written for the deancastiel quick fire challenge

The only thing he can think is that this is a really fucking stupid way to die. He can’t recall the last time he’s been this cold, and with each numbing second that passes he grows more certain that he’s not going to see the end of today.

The snow is falling hard now and he’s still miles away from any signs of civilisation, with only the dull pain of his head wound reminding him that he’s not dead already. He tries not to think about his baby, stuck in a snow drift miles back and instead tries to be glad that at least the cold had stopped his head bleeding.

He pulls out his cell phone and glances at the display, still no signal. He curses and kicks a nearby tree, which does nothing but make his foot hurt.

“Son of a bitch!”

His voice is stolen away by the howling wind and he pulls his jacket closer around him. It does little to keep out the biting cold. It’s getting dark now and if he doesn’t find help soon then he’s screwed.

He keeps walking.

His hands had gone numb hours ago and so had his feet not long after that. Now he can’t feel anything at all and it takes every ounce of his strength just to keep moving. Already his mind is telling him to stop, to just lie down and go to sleep, but he’ll be damned if he’ll listen.

If he can just get to a phone he can call Sam and everything will be okay. Sam is smart. He’ll know what to do.

He stumbles and falls, his brain screaming at him to get back up but it’s no good. The powdery snow if soft like a mattress beneath him and he just wants to sleep.

His only regret is that he won’t get the chance to say goodbye to Sam.

He closes his eyes and drifts.

* * *

“Dean. Dean, you need to wake up.”

The voice is far away, calling to him, but his eyes won’t open even when he tries to force them.

“It’s all right, Dean. I know you can hear me. I’m going to help you.”

The voice is gentle and soothing, and Dean wants to melt into it. He feels something soft and warm covering his lips and suddenly it’s like an electric shock hitting his chest. His whole body is a mass of pain and his eyes snap open as he cries out, trying to push away but unable to move.

He’s now aware of how damn cold he is and he’s shivering so hard that he can barely see, but he’s aware enough that he can see Castiel above him.

“C-Cas?”

Castiel brushes a hand over Dean’s forehead and the touch is like a furnace to his frozen body.

“I’m here, Dean.”

The words provide Dean with comfort and he feels Castiel’s lips on his again before his vision whites out

* * *

When he comes to again the snow has stopped and his back hurts. He opens his eyes cautiously and blinks when he sees Castiel’s face hovering above his.

“Are you all right now?” Castiel asks gently

Dean groans and sits up, puzzled to find that he is now lying on a bench and had been using Castiel’s lap as a pillow. It’s not exactly how he’s imagined sleeping with the angel.

“I’m peachy,” he groans.

“There’s a garage over there,” Castiel says, watching as Dean stretches. “They’ll be able to fix your car.”

Dean looks at him, a puzzled frown marring his face as he tries to recall what happened.

“You saved me.”

“Yes.”

His frown deepened. “You kissed me. Twice.”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say to that. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate it and hell knows he’s imagined it plenty of times, but he’s pretty sure Cas was just doing his job. But at the same time there’s something different about the way the angel is looking at him now. There’s longing in his eyes and it makes Dean shiver.

“I…uh…I should go.”

Castiel doesn’t say anything, and Dean makes no attempt to move.

“Thanks for saving me,” he finally says softly.

“You’re welcome, Dean. We’ll see each other again soon.”

He’s gone in the blink of an eye and Dean sits there for a moment. He has a feeling that it was a promise of things to come and he smiles.

Fic: The Luck of the Irish

2009-04-05T10:19:59Z

Title: The Luck of the Irish
Author: hils
Rating: G
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam & Dean gen. Set during a non-specific time in season 2 so no real spoilers
Words: 689
Summary: Another day. Another motel
This was written as a St Patrick's Day gift for the fabulous authoressnebula. It was initially supposed to be something fluffy but sadly the muses had other ideas. Thanks to bogwitch for the beta

Dean, as usual, had chosen a particularly crappy motel for them to stay in. Oh, it was clean enough and had no sign of roaches or rats, which made a change from some of the holes they’d stayed in, but there was a bar out back, which Sam suspected had heavily influenced Dean’s choice, and it was rowdy.

The noise hadn’t bothered him while he was researching their case, but now it was late and he was trying to sleep. Naturally Dean was nowhere to be found. Sam suspected his older brother was probably in the middle of all the noise, a fact confirmed when the motel room door banged open at 1am.

“You’re drunk,” Sam observed as Dean staggered into the room, six pack clutched in his hand

“Sure am,” Dean replied as he flopped onto the couch. “You should be too, Sammy. Don’t you know what today is?”

Through the sleep haze that shrouded his mind Sam wracked his brains.

“March 17th,” he finally said. “Saint Patrick’s Day. Dean, we’re not Irish.”

“Yeah, well, I figure there’s a bit of it in there somewhere. Any excuse to have a few beers, right?”

Sam sighed. “Whatever. Are you going to go to bed now? We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

“Bed?” Dean snorted. “Hell no. Come and have a beer with me.”

“Dude, I’m trying to sleep.”

“You can sleep in the car tomorrow. Come on, Sammy. Don’t be boring your whole life.”

Arguing was pointless, Sam decided. Dean was going to pester, annoy and be a pain in the ass until he got what he wanted.

“Fine.”

He snatched a bottle from Dean’s hand and flopped down next to him on the couch.

“Do you think leprechauns are real?” Dean asked as they drank.

Sam shrugged. “The folklore probably has its basis in facts, sure.”

“But not the whole pot of gold at the end of the rainbow thing?”

Sam shook his head. “They’re probably more like the trickster than anything.”

Dean shuddered. “Man, I never want to meet him again.”

They drink in silence for a while, the air heavy between them. They’ve been so busy these past few weeks, what with trying to avert the end of the world and everything. This is the first time they’ve had any sort of alone time in a while.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean finally said. “If you could have one wish what would it be?”

Sam shrugged. “I dunno. Depends who was asking. A wish is never that simple, Dean. There’s always some sort of catch attached.”

“Say there wasn’t,” Dean pressed. “Say it was me asking and I could give you anything you wanted. What would you ask for?”

“Why do you even want to know?” Sam asked cautiously. “Has something happened? Have you made a crossroads deal or something?”

“Nah,” Dean dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’m not that stupid. I’m just curious. Come on, there must be something you want.”

“Fine,” Sam sighed with the tone of someone humouring a persistent child. “I’d wish that dad had never become a hunter and we’d grown up living normal lives.”

“Normal?” Dean snorted. “You’d really rather live in ignorance than know what we know?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe. I dunno. You asked. Why, what would you wish for?”

“Me?” Dean asked with a lazy smile. “I’m not greedy. I just want one day. Just one, where I don’t have to think about any of this crap.”

Sam nodded and raised his bottle. “I’ll drink to that.”

An hour later Dean was passed out on the couch and after covering him with a blanket Sam climbed into his own bed. His head was pounding and he knew it had nothing to do with the two beers he’d had with Dean. Something was coming. Something dark and terrible. They’d fight it, because that’s what they do, and they’d win. Because if it was the last thing he did Sam was going to make sure Dean got his one day of peace.

He drifted to sleep with the sound of screams ringing in his ears.

The End.

Fic: As it is Written

2009-04-04T13:14:03Z

Title: As it is Written
Author: hils
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: 4.18
Word Count: 1471
Summary: He was only reading because he was curious, or that's what he told himself
Notes: Thanks to vichan for the beta and letting me quote her

Dean made the discovery almost by accident.

Sam was out getting food and he was bored so he’d decided to download porn onto his brother’s laptop and see how long it took him to notice. What he hadn’t expected was to find the Supernatural fan page still open.

He hastily scrolled past any references to Sam and Dean slash. Dude, seriously - what the fuck was wrong with those people? Despite himself, he found himself drawn to the ‘Dean Girl’ forum. He figured it could be fun to see what the girls had to say about him, and his ego could always use a bit of a boost so he clicked on it.

He had to laugh at the amount of discussion about what his favourite kind of pie was, and he made a mental note to look up the word ‘woobie’ later. Apparently the girls had a particular thing for something called ‘woobie!Dean’ so he figured it couldn’t hurt to try it on the next girl he met.

He continued scrolling through the forum until something caught his eye. There was a post he didn’t really understand, but it had a hell of a lot of replies.

The subject line of the post was ‘Dean/Castiel = OTP’

He had no idea what OTP meant, but he sure as hell knew what that slash meant by now. He clicked and as he read, his eyes widened and his mouth fell slightly open at the sheer amount of thought that had been put into the post.

It is very easy to see that Dean and Castiel already have a very intense relationship. What isn't as clear is exactly what kind of relationship they have - are they possibly enemies? Friends? One step away from being lovers?

Dean snorted. “How about ‘none of the above.’”

Or maybe it was all of the above. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to think about it. Cas was just Cas.

He scrolled down to the bottom and paused. There were links to stories people had written.

Slash stories.

About him and Castiel.

He didn’t want to read them. In fact, even knowing people thought about him and Cas that way was weird, although admittedly not as weird and sick as those stories about him and Sam. He had to admit he was curious, though. Surely writing stories about a man and an angel doing those kinds of things was some sort of blasphemy.

“I am so going back to hell for this,” he muttered to himself and clicked the first link. It wasn’t bad at first, but by the end of the first part he was naked in Cas’s arms and not long after that was the sex stuff. It was pretty graphic.

“Dude, there is no way Cas could do that,” he muttered to himself. “Angel or not, no one is that bendy.”

He wanted to stop reading, really, he did, but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to stop. He’d never even thought of Cas like that before, but in the story it seemed to make perfect sense, and that scared him. It was like the author knew him better than he knew himself.

“What are you reading?”

Dean slammed the laptop shut with a stifled grunt. “Dammit, Cas, how many times have I told you not to sneak up on people like that?”

“I just wanted to congratulate you on the successful completion of your plan.”

“It was your plan,” Dean replied. He wished Castiel would stop looking at him with such intensity, and he really wished that he could get the images from that damn story out of his head. “Thanks again for that by the way.”

“You’re welcome.”

They had hit the point where Castiel told him there was more work to be done and then disappeared, but the angel was just looking at him now. Really looking at him. Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“So, you here to send me to find another seal or something?” Dean finally asked.

“No,” Castiel replied simply. “We have a brief reprieve while Lilith regroups. I just wanted to tell you that I am glad you decided not to give up on the fight. You never told me what you were reading when I arrived.”

“Nothing,” Dean answered hastily and got up to grab a beer from the small motel fridge.“Research stuff.”

He could feel Castiel’s eyes following him around the room and Dean did everything he could not to look back. “So, you’re a bit of a Chuck fan, are you?”

“It is a great honour for those few mortals who are chosen to receive the Word of the Lord.”

Dean finally forced himself to turn around and look at Castiel. The angel hadn’t moved, but his eyes were still fixed on Dean.

“So,” Dean cleared his throat in an effort to clear the lump that had formed. “You’ve read all the books, have you?”

“Yes,” Castiel replied.

“You got a favourite?”

Castiel tilted his head to one side as though the question was the strangest thing he had ever been asked. “I am not permitted to have a favourite. They are all God’s words.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, that figures. So, if you don’t have another assignment for me why are you still here?”

“Would you like me to leave?”

“No.”

Dean was surprised to find that he meant it, no matter how weird he felt after reading that story.

“Are you going to get into trouble for helping me last night?” Dean asked.

“I did nothing wrong.” Castiel replied. “I simply explained to you why I could do nothing more.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at that. Cas was smart; he was already figuring out ways to bend the rules without breaking them. There was hope for him yet.

“Well, if you’re sticking around you might as well make yourself comfortable. I have to take a leak.”

Dean locked himself in the bathroom and tried very hard not to think about Castiel on the other side of the door. This was insane. He was not having sexy thoughts about an angel, especially not Castiel. He really wished he hadn’t read that damn story.

He splashed some cold water on his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He took a few deep breaths, trying to get a level head back on before stepping back into the other room.

He found Castiel sitting in front of Sam’s laptop, staring very intently and curiously at the screen.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Dean asked, trying to keep the alarm out of his voice.

Castiel blinked and looked at him. “I was going to try and assist you with your research. I thought maybe I could help. This is…not what I expected.”

After a few muttered expletives under his breath Dean sighed. “Look, it’s not what it looks like. Okay, it is, but I wasn’t reading it because I’m a big perv or anything. I was just… curious.”

He could hear the panicked embarrassment in his own voice and kicked himself for losing his cool so quickly.

Castiel rose from his seat and moved across the room to stand toe to toe with Dean. “If you were curious about what we would be like together, you could have just asked.”

“Oh,” Dean replied. “Wait. What?”

Castiel kissed him.

To say the least, it took him by surprise and for a moment all Dean could do was stand there, frozen as the angel’s lips covered his. His body began to react instinctively and he started to return the kiss, gently exploring Castiel’s mouth with his own.

It was nothing like the raw and untamed passion in the story he’d read. This was gentle and soft, and it made him want to melt into Castiel’s arms and just let the angel hold him. Yes, apparently Castiel had the power to turn him into a woman. Strangely, he didn’t mind how it made him feel, because it just felt right.

Castiel pulled back, his eyes scanning Dean’s face as though he was trying to commit every inch of him to memory. “Was that how you imagined?”

“Not exactly,” Dean replied in a stunned whisper.

The smallest hint of a smile curled at the edge of Castiel’s lips and it made Dean grin. “Maybe we should write our own stories.”

“I imagine they would be quite popular,” Castiel replied. “Especially if we were to describe what is about to happen next.”

“Next?” Dean repeated curiously before letting out a soft grunt as Castiel tugged him down onto the bed. “Oh, next!”

* * *

Chuck frowned as he looked at the pages he had written while in his most recent drunken stupor.

“Well, I gotta say I didn’t see that one coming.”

The End.

Untitled

2009-03-31T10:17:45Z

Untitled comment fic written for kinkme_merlin

"Do it again."

Arthur’s face is bathed in a warm glow from the camp fire, eyes sparkling as Merlin waves his hand idly. Moments later the flames bend and twist until they form the shape of Merlin’s face. Arthur can’t stop the shiver that moves up his spine and causes him to tremble.

“Are you cold?” Merlin asks and the flames take on their regular shape again.

“No,” Arthur replies softly. “It’s just…Merlin, you’re incredible. Is there anything you can’t do?”

Merlin shrugs casually. “I don’t know. I’ve never really tested it.”

Arthur shivers again and Merlin shuffled closer. “Arthur, you’re not…are you afraid of me? You know I’d never hurt you.”

“I know,” Arthur replies. “And I’m not afraid of you. I just had no idea you were so powerful. All this time I’ve been issuing you with stupid orders and you could have razed the whole castle to the ground if you wanted to.”

He can feel a heat blooming in his gut that has nothing to do with the small camp fire. He looks at Merlin, really looks at him, and for the first time he sees so much more than a bumbling servant who also happens to be his friend. He sees power, raw and strong, like nothing he has ever known or can even try to understand.

“Arthur?” Merlin asks, apparently seeing some change in the prince’s expression. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Arthur can’t help himself. He needs to taste Merlin, to see if he can taste the magic and power that’s flowing though him. He crushes Merlin’s mouth with a kiss, tongue exploring and teasing as he pushes Merlin down onto his back.

“Arthur,” Merlin gasps between kisses. “What are you...oh, God, don’t stop!”

Arthur was now swiping his tongue in the dip of tender skin at the base of Merlin’s throat as his hands clawed at Merlin’s shirt to get to the pale flesh that lay underneath. Merlin’s hands fist and tug in Arthur’s hair but the pain only makes him want it more.

Even though he trusts Merlin not to hurt him, there is still an underlying sense of danger as he trails kisses down Merlin’s stomach. If Merlin loses control of his magic even for a second…but that’s what makes it so exciting.

His body shakes with anticipation as he frees Merlin’s cock from the confines of his trousers and wraps his mouth around it. Merlin hisses and tightens his grip on Arthur’s hair as his legs curl around Arthur and capture him in a tight hold. Arthur can feel the air crackling around them now and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he starts to lick and tease Merlin.
“God,” Merlin moans, and Arthur can feel his scalp tingling with the energy coming from Merlin’s fingers. He allows his teeth to graze over Merlin’s shaft before he starts to swipe his tongue over the tip.

He can feel Merlin trembling beneath him now and the air around them is thick with the raw power of Merlin’s magic. He’s heard an orgasm be compared to an explosion in the past, but he’s never had it be so literal before.

“Ow,” he groans when the blast from Merlin knocks him onto his back.

“Oh, God, Arthur! I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”

He can hear Merlin scrambling to his feet but all he can see are swirls of colour behind his eyes. It’s actually quite pretty.

“I’m fine,” he says with a lazy smile.

“You’re not fine,” Merlin says as he runs his hands gently over Arthur’s scalp to check for injuries. “You’ve probably got a concussion or something. I’m really sorry. I’ve never been that…uh…excited before.”

Arthur finally opens his eyes and his smile widens when he sees Merlin’s concerned face hovering over him. The coloured swirls have mostly gone now and he doesn’t mind because this view is even prettier. He wonders briefly if Merlin was right about the concussion though. He’s never used the word pretty in his life before tonight.

“We all have our special talents, Merlin,” Arthur says with a grin. “Yours is magic and mine…lies in other areas.”

Merlin returns the grin and dips his head to press a kiss to Arthur’s lips. “Well, I’ve always said you should stick to what you’re good at.”

“Oh, I intend to,” Arthur replies with a leer.

Suddenly his head doesn’t ache any more.

Fic: Food by the Fireside

2009-03-22T09:05:29Z

Title: Food by the Fireside
Author: hils
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Words: 1400
Summary: What do you get the man who has everything? Written as a birthday present for danceswithgary
Thanks to lexalicious70 for the beta

The mansion was cold and dark when Lex got home from work. He didn’t mind. He wasn’t going to be there for long anyway, and it had been a long-standing tradition that everyone got the night off on his birthday.

A smiled curled on his lips as he thought about Clark and the wonderful night that lay ahead of them. He might be his birthday but the best gift he could imagine was the look on Clark’s face as he tucked into some of the finest foods in the world.

He headed upstairs, tossed his jacket casually onto the bed, and glanced at the suit he’d laid out ready. He’d gone for the cornflower blue shirt, but only because he knew it was Clark’s favourite. He still hadn’t quite figured out why Clark was so fixated on the primary colours, but he supposed it didn’t matter. It made Clark happy, and that was all that mattered.

He undressed and stepped into the shower, letting out a soft moan of pleasure as the hot water hit his body.

He tried not to think about Clark.

He was already painfully aware that his feelings for his young friend were bordering on inappropriate, but he couldn’t stop thinking about him except in moments like this when he forced himself to. There was still such a raw innocence to Clark that Lex had no intention of tainting, especially now that Clark had trusted him with the secret of his origins.

He dressed quickly, headed downstairs, and was almost out of the front door when he heard something.

His first thought was that his father had made one of his unscheduled and unannounced visits until he remembered that he was currently in Japan, sealing the deal on a company he’d just purchased.

Instantly his hand went to the gun that he’d been carrying around since the eighth attempt on his life. Clark didn’t approve and had insisted he’d always be there to keep Lex safe. Lex, of course, pointed out the dozens of other things Clark could be doing with his amazing gifts and carried the gun anyway.

He clicked off the safety and followed the sound to the library, pausing outside the door to prepare himself. He opened the door slowly and carefully so as to make no noise and carefully entered the room.

The sight that met him wasn’t exactly the intruder he’d expected.

“Clark?”

Clark grinned at him and then frowned when he saw the gun in Lex’s hand. “Uh, surprise.”

“Yes, it certainly is,” Lex said as he felt the tension leave his body. He put the gun away and frowned. “What are you doing here? We’re supposed to be going to Moulto’s in an hour.”

That sheepish look was back again, and Lex knew some sort of bad news was heading his way. If Clark was cancelling on him…

“I..uh…” Clark stumbled over his words in a way that Lex usually found endearing. “I cancelled the reservation.”

Both his eyebrows lifted in surprise. That certainly hadn’t been the news he was expecting.

“And why did you do that?” He asked curiously but gently. “Is the most exclusive restaurant in Metropolis not good enough compared to your mother’s home cooking?”

Clark blushed at that and Lex couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, no, it’s not that. I just…”

He stepped aside to reveal a blanket laid out on the floor with several plates of food on top of it.

“I didn’t know what to get you for your birthday,” Clark said, still blushing. “It’s really hard to work out what to get someone who already has everything, but I thought a picnic might be nice and since it’s too cold to go outside…”

“It’s perfect,” Lex said softly, and the smile he was rewarded with as they sat down was an even better gift than the picnic itself.

“Happy birthday, Lex,” Clark said as he poured them a glass of wine each.

“Thank you, Clark.”

“There’s…um…there’s another part to your present, which you can have after we’re done eating.”

Lex, intrigued, was sure he could warm his hands over the intensity of the blush that was currently spread over Clark’s cheeks and he smiled.

“You’re spoiling me, Clark.”

The blush faded a little and was replaced with a genuine smile. “Well, you’ve done so much for me since we became friends. I just wanted to return the favour.”

“I don’t do those things for you because I want things back,” Lex replied with a small frown. “I do them because I want to and because your friendship means a lot to me.”

“It means a lot to me, too,” Clark replied. “That’s why I wanted to do something for you. To show you that I don’t take what you do for me for granted.”

Lex softened and reached for Clark, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Well, it’s a lovely gesture. Thank you, again.”

“You’re welcome.”

Lex really wanted to devour the meal quickly so he could find out what else Clark had in store, but the food was so good that he couldn’t help but savour every bite.

“I’ll tell my mom you approved,” Clark laughed when Lex let out a small moan of pleasure. “Do you want some more?”

All Lex could do was nod and Clark loaded up his plate again.

“So, what else did you get for your birthday?” Clark asked while they ate.

“Oh, the usual,” Lex replied. “Designer watches that I’ll never wear, expensive cologne that will never be used. My father bought me shares in a rival company so that I have an incentive to take them down and by them out.”

Clark blinked at him. “Your dad really sucks, Lex.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Lex replied and raised his glass. Clark raised his own and together the toasted Lionel sucking.

“Well,” Lex said when their glasses we both empty. “We appear to have finished.”

Clark nodded, looking more than a little embarrassed and uncomfortable. “Yeah.”

“Now, what was that about—“

He was prevented from finishing by Clark’s mouth covering his, capturing him in a surprised but very much not unwelcomed kiss.

“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” Clark said with a shy smile as he pulled back. “Happy birthday.”

Lex responded by kissing him back and hands quickly tore at clothes until they were both naked. Lex couldn’t help but shiver. This was really happening. Finally. And with no pressure from him at all. Clark actually wanted this as much as he did.

“You’re cold,” Clark murmured when he saw Lex shiver. Without waiting for a reply, he focussed on the fire and let out a burst of heat from his eyes. The logs burst into flames, flooding the room with a comfortable heat. All Lex could do was stare at Clark.

“I will never get tired of watching you do that,” he breathed. “You’re amazing.”

Clark just smiled and kissed him again. “So are you.”

They came together again, tongues warring and kisses burning. Lex’s mind could barely keep up with what was happening and the ache in his groin made it even harder to focus.

“Lay down,” Clark said gently when they were finally forced to break apart for air. “Let me take care of you.”

Lex did as he was asked, letting out a small shiver as his bare back made contact with the scratchy fabric of the blanket. Clark’s face hovered above him, another one of those dazzling smiles in place only this time it was accompanied by a wicked glint in his eyes.

He disappeared from sight and a moment later Lex gasped and arched his back as Clark’s hot mouth wrapped around his cock.

“Jesus, Clark,” he hissed as the heat from Clark’s mouth flooded through his whole body as Clark sucked him. “God, that feels good.”

Clark’s tongue stroked and teased him, teeth grazing the tender flesh. Lex groaned and fisted his hands in Clark’s thick hair, tugging as Clark’s hands massaged his inner thighs.

He’s trembling now and he can’t stop, throwing back his head as he comes with a cry and a shudder. He spills into Clark before collapsing in a boneless heap back on the blanket.

Clark lazily crawled up and lay down beside him, pillowing his head on Lex’s shoulder.

“Happy birthday, Lex.”

“Best one ever, Clark.”

The End.

Fic: Threat Released

2009-03-18T20:08:49Z

Title: Threat Released
Author: hils
Rating: PG
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Words: 5553
Summary: Written to accompany this art by lizardspots
Thanks to alinoradesancto and amato for the beta

The air is thick with the scent of blood and filth and it churns Arthur’s stomach. He doesn’t stop though. The guards he knocked out will likely wake up soon and he doubts they will be pleased that he’s caused them to fail in their instructions to keep him away. He presses forward, fear fluttering in his chest as he considers what he is going to find. The cell he is looking for doesn’t get used very often and is in the deepest part of the dungeon. His father keeps it for those prisoners whom he never intends to let see the light of day again and the key Arthur has stolen is stiff in the lock.

The door opens with an agonising screech and he has to wait a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. The smell of blood is worse in here and he can practically taste the copper when he breathes in. Nothing can prepare him for the sight of it. Even though time isn’t something he can waste, he finds that he can’t move. All he can do is stare.

Merlin is unconscious - or at least Arthur prays that he is. Anything to spare him the pain of the injuries that cover his body. Even in the dark Arthur can see the blood on Merlin’s pale skin, the wounds clearly still red and raw from the lashes he has received.

Arthur trembles. If he’d been faster, spent less time demanding to be allowed to see Merlin and just concentrated on rescuing him then Merlin might have been spared this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, unable to spare more than a quick glance to the way Merlin’s trousers are hanging low around his hips and are open at the top. He knows that no part of Merlin’s body will have been spared. His father always insists that the guards are thorough, especially when magic is concerned.

Merlin shifts slightly in his slumped position and lets out a soft moan of pain. It’s all Arthur needs to snap him back into the moment and spur him forward. He quickly unlocks the shackles and catches Merlin as he crumples.

“It’s all right,” he whispers gently, taking note of the blood on Merlin’s wrists where the metal has cut into the tender flesh. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

He can feel Merlin’s blood, warm and sticky on his hands and he swallows back the bile that rises in his throat. He’s never cared about the sight of blood before but this is different. This is Merlin’s blood. As gently as he has ever done anything in his life he cradles Merlin in his arms and carries him out of the dark cell and back into the warm light of day.

* * *

He deposits Merlin gently on the bed, careful to put him face down to avoid putting pressure on the worst of the injuries which line his back. His heart clenches when despite everything the movement still brings a groan of pain from Merlin’s lips, even though he shows no signs of waking. The midday sun is shining through his bedroom window and in the bright light he can see each and every wound that litters Merlin’s body.

He doesn’t even know where to start with fixing this. He’s been medically trained to deal with battle-related injuries but nothing like this. There are so many cuts and bruises covering him and he has no idea which ones he should tend to first.

The door to his chamber bangs open and his hand is on his sword before he’s even made it to his feet.

“Arthur!”

Morgana is standing in the doorway, eyes wild and manic. Gwen is standing behind her, chewing her lip with concern as she tries to peer over her lady’s shoulder. Morgana’s eyes hover on Arthur for a moment before landing on Merlin. Gwen sees him a moment later and, apparently forgetting all proprietary, pushes past Morgana with a cry and runs to him.

“You can’t be here,” Arthur growls to Morgana as they both watch Gwen tenderly start to clean Merlin’s back with Arthur’s washcloth. She looks so natural tending to him that he is reluctant to send her away, even though he knows he must.

“Let us help,” Morgana protests, eyes glistening with unshed tears when she turns her attention back to Arthur. “You can’t do this alone.”

“No,” Arthur replies calmly. He’s been anticipating this conversation.

“But-“

“NO!” His voice rings loudly through the room and he curses under his breath when he realises that all he is doing is drawing attention to himself. “I know you want to help but I won’t see anyone else harmed as a result of my actions. You know my father will punish you and Gwen if he even suspects that you have helped me.”

“I don’t care what he does to me,” Morgana says with a defiant tilt of her chin. Gwen nods her agreement as she continued to tend to Merlin.

“I care,” Arthur replies. “And Merlin will care when he wakes up. Please, leave us. If not for my sake then for his.”

Morgana shakes her head. “You can’t keep us out of this. We care about Merlin as much as you do. At least let us try and buy you some time.”

Arthur sighs and nods his head as Gwen sets down the cloth and joins Morgana at the door.

“He needs Gaius,” Gwen says gently.

”No,” Arthur says strongly. “I don’t want him involved.”

“He needs to know about this,” Morgana snaps. “You’re not qualified to treat these injuries.”

“I’ll manage,” Arthur replies. “I’ll have to. My father already suspects that Gaius knew about Merlin’s…ability before this happened. If he helps with this he’ll be risking his life. I won’t have anyone else hurt and I need you both to swear to me that you’ll leave Gaius out of this.”

Morgana sighs. “I think you’re making a mistake but all right. I promise.”

Gwen nods her head before they both leave to do whatever it is Morgana has planned to buy him some time. He moves back over to the bed and continues where Gwen left off, carefully swiping at Merlin’s wrists.

Merlin is lying still and now there is a worrying thought niggling at the back of Arthur’s mind. What if Merlin never wakes up? What if the brutality that has been unleashed on him is so severe that he can’t recover and he simply fades away? Arthur is doing what he can but what if it’s not enough? It’s a thought that’s too horrible to consider, but now he can’t get it out of his head. Merlin might have only been in his life for a few months but he can’t imagine him not being there now.

“You can’t leave me,” he says gently, unsure whether Merlin can hear him or not but deciding to take the chance anyway. “I won’t allow it.”

He frowns when Merlin doesn’t respond.

“I see you’re still refusing to do anything I tell you. You know, sometimes I am amazed at your insolence. No one can replace you, Merlin, and do you know how ridiculous that is? I can have my pick of anyone in the kingdom and you are the best that Camelot has to offer? No one else would dream of calling me a prat…and yet I wouldn’t change that for anything That’s why you have to wake up and get better, do you understand?”

Still nothing.

Arthur sighs and starts to gently clean the welts that cover Merlin’s back. Some of them have reopened while Arthur was carrying him and are bleeding a little now.

“I’ll never forgive him for doing this to you,” he whispers, jaw clenched at the thought of what Merlin must have been through.

The door to his chamber bangs open again and this time it is the king, flanked on either side by an armed guard.

“Step away from the bed,” Uther instructs.

Arthur rises to his feet but makes no attempt to move away from Merlin’s side.

“Arthur,” Uther snaps. “I’m commanding you. Move aside now.”

He shakes his head resolutely. “I won’t let you have him, father. Not this time.”

He can see Uther gritting his teeth as he motions to the guards. “Seize him.”

Arthur has his sword drawn before either of them can move. “I really wouldn’t advise it.

“You would raise your sword against your own father?” Uther asks in stunned disbelief. “To protect a sorcerer?”

“He saved my life!” Arthur snaps. “And he’s my friend.”

“Friend?” Uther snorted incredulously. “He has his own agenda and if he has done you no harm it is merely because he has his own use for you.”

“I trust him,” Arthur replies. “You should too. This isn’t the first time he’s saved me.”

Uther’s face softens slightly and he dismisses the guards with a wave of his hand. “There are laws that need to be upheld. I cannot make an exception for one man just because you happen to be inappropriately partial to him. It would cause chaos in the kingdom. You’re young, Arthur, you haven’t yet seen the devastation that magic can cause.”

“No,” Arthur says coldly. “But I’ve seen the devastation that you can cause.”

He steps back so that his father can see Merlin’s prone form on the bed.

“You did this,” Arthur continues. “Merlin has never done anything to harm anyone since you placed him in my service.”

“He is a sorcerer and you know the penalty for using magic in Camelot. Justice will be served, whether you like it or not,” Uther states. “Arthur, please. You must see sense about this.”

“Are you so narrow minded that you would lose everyone around you rather than have magic in the kingdom? Have you forgotten that the death of Tom nearly cost you Morgana?”Arthur’s eyes blaze. “Do you really want to lose a son over this?”

“What would you have me do?”

“You could offer a reduced sentence as a reward for saving my life,” Arthur suggests. “The people would accept the beating he has already been dealt as justice enough, I’m sure of it. Besides, I owe Merlin something for saving my life.”

Uther sighs. “I will not have my son being indebted to a sorcerer. However, I am willing to consider an alternative punishment as you clearly feel very strongly about this. We can’t do anything right now. Not with the boy in his current condition. I’ll have Gaius attend to him and when he’s well enough we can discuss what’s to be done.”

Arthur watches until his father has left the room and then sags, his whole body trembling as he puts his sword away with some difficulty. When he sits back down on the bed he notices that Merlin is awake and looking at him through pain clouded eyes.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough,” Merlin replies softly.

Arthur nods and quietly resumes tending to Merlin’s wounds, wincing as Merlin hisses in pain.

“You rescued me,” Merlin finally says when the pain has abated a little, voice muffled by the pillow. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?” Arthur snaps more harshly than he’d intended. “Were you planning on using magic to escape?”

“No,” Merlin replies softly. “I just don’t want you to get into trouble because of me.”

Arthur softens. It is so typical of Merlin to put others before himself even when he is bloody and beaten. Further proof, as if any were needed, that Merlin is not the man his father claims him to be.

“I can take care of myself,” he tells Merlin firmly in a tone that brokers no argument. As usual Merlin doesn’t listen.

“If that were true,” he drawls and Arthur swears he can here the smile in Merlin’s voice, “I wouldn’t have had to save your life. Again.”

“Do you think this is a game?” Arthur asks incredulously, staring at him in disbelief. “My father was going to have you killed. He still might unless I can stop him. Do you really care so little about your own life?”

Merlin shrugs and winces at the pain the movement causes him. “Yours is worth more.”

“No, it isn’t!” Arthur crouches on the floor so that he is at eye level with Merlin. “You can’t keep putting yourself in danger like this. I won’t lose you because you’re an idiot who doesn’t know how to look after himself.”

Merlin smiles and reaches out a hand. His fingertips don’t quite reach Arthur’s cheek.

“I have to keep you safe,” he whispers. “It’s my destiny.”

Then his eyes roll back and his hand drops limply back onto the bed.

“Merlin?” Anxiety flutters in his chest when there is no response. “Merlin!”

He’s just considering shaking him roughly when Gaius bustles into the room, arms full of jars and boxes. He sets them down and glances over Merlin briefly before seeing Arthur’s helpless look.

“It’s all right, sire,” he says and pats Arthur’s arm. “He needs rest in order for his body to heal.”

Arthur sighs in relief and steps aside so that Gaius can perform a full examination. He feels reassured that he isn’t alone in wanting to keep Merlin safe. Merlin is like a son to Gaius and Arthur trusts him. He watches as Gaius applies a foul smelling poultice to the cuts on Merlin’s back, hating how still Merlin is beneath the older man’s touch. Merlin is usually so vibrant and full of life. Seeing him like this just feel wrong.

“I’ll need to remove his trousers so I can treat the wounds on his legs,” Gaius says once Merlin’s back, arms and wrists have been treated. “Can you help me?”

Arthur nods and lifts Merlin as carefully as he can while Gaius removes the remaining item of Merlin’s clothing. Arthur swallows hard when his suspicions are confirmed. The injuries on Merlin’s lower body are just as bad as the rest, deep welts covering his thighs, legs and feet. There doesn’t seem to be anywhere that has been left undamaged.

His eyes drift momentarily to Merlin’s groin. It’s the one part of him that seems to have been left alone and Arthur supposes he should be grateful for that small fact.

Suddenly he’s very conscious of the fact that Merlin is naked and he feels his cheeks flush red as he realises that this is not how he imagined it happening. He quickly turns his back before Gaius sees him blushing.

Finally Gaius places a gentle hand on his shoulder and Arthur turns back. Merlin is now tucked beneath the sheets and he has lost a little of the pained expression that has been etched onto his face since Arthur freed him. He’s still not awake though.

“He just needs time,” Gaius says gently with a kind smile. “I am confident he will recover.”

Arthur nods and pulls up a chair beside the bed so he can sit with Merlin a while.

“Let me get you something to eat,” Gaius says. “You’ll do no good to anyone if you faint from hunger.”

Arthur sinks into the chair, eyes never leaving Merlin’s face as he nods. He can’t imagine eating anything but he knows he needs to keep up his strength in order to keep Merlin safe.

He barely notices when Gaius lets himself out.

* * *

“I’m not sure I can eat this,” Arthur says as a steaming bowl of stew and a goblet of wine is placed in front of him.

Gaius gives him an understanding smile. “At least try, sire.”

It does smell good, and he knows he should eat but his stomach is still rolling from the smell of Merlin’s blood that is still hanging in his room.

“Yeah, don’t starve yourself on my account,” Merlin slurs. Arthur’s eyes snap back to the bed. Merlin is awake, although bleary-eyed, and his lips are curled into a smile.

Arthur resists the urge to grin and snorts instead. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

As he starts eating his head swims with how good it tastes and soon the bowl and goblet are both empty. He stifles a yawn and reclaims his seat by the bed.

“Are you going to stay awake this time,” he asks Merlin, blinking as the room shifts out of focus slightly around him.

“I think so,” Merlin replies. “Are you?”

He blinks again. He feels strange, like his whole body is much heavier than it should be. He can feel his eyes drooping but he won’t allow them to close and shakes his head to try and clear some of the fog.

“I’m fine,” he says, surprised at how slurred his voice sounds.

“You don’t look fine,” Merlin observes with a frown. “You don’t sound fine either.”

“Merlin is right,” Gaius says as he moves over to Arthur’s side. “You are clearly exhausted. Why don’t you lie down and get some sleep?”

“No…” Arthur protests weakly even as Gaius is tugging him to his feet and guiding him over to the other side of the bed. “I have…I have to…Merlin…my father…”

“I’ll watch over him,” Gaius promises as he tugs off Arthur’s boots and swings his legs up onto the bed. There is something strangely familiar about this, but Arthur can’t think. He can barely keep his eyes open as his head hits the pillow the last thing he hears before sleep claims him is Gaius’s voice.

“Thank you for saving him.”

* * *

Arthur wakes slowly, his head pounding as he opens his eyes. It’s dark outside, which means he must have been asleep for several hours. He turns his head to check on Merlin.

The bed is empty apart from him.

Cold dread floods into him in waves as he sits up, ignoring how dizzy the sudden movement makes him feel. The sheets beside him are cold which means that Merlin has been gone for a while. Then he notices the note that has been left on Merlin’s pillow. There are just two words, written in Gaius’s familiar scrawl

I’m sorry

Arthur jumps out of bed and runs, heart pounding in his chest as he makes for Gaius’s rooms.

All of Merlin’s things are gone.

His eyes burn as he heads to The Great Hall and bursts in.

“Where is Merlin?”

For once he doesn’t care that his father is currently in a strategic planning meeting with his knights. He doesn’t care about anything except finding Merlin, even as it scares him at how attached he has become to him.

“What are you talking about?” Uther asks with an air indifference that Arthur knows is faked.

“Merlin and Gaius are gone,” Arthur snaps. “I know you had something to do with it.”

“I assure you I have done nothing,” Uther replies coolly. “You made it quite clear what would happen if I did anything to harm the boy.”

“I will find him,” Arthur vows through gritted teeth as Uther regards him impassively. “And if I find out you had anything to do with him leaving…”

He storms out leaving Uther to finish the threat with his own imagination. He has no idea where to even start looking for Merlin so he heads back to Gaius’s rooms. Wherever Merlin is he was in no condition to travel alone and Gaius’s note leaves no doubt that he went with him. Maybe he left a clue as to where he was going.

He searches everywhere, turning over books, jars, boxes, anything he can lay his hands on but finds nothing. What he does notice is that whilst Merlin’s room has been stripped, none of Gaius’s own things are missing. Wherever he’s gone he clearly intends to return.

All Arthur has to do is wait.

* * *

It’s two days before Gaius returns and Arthur has not left the older man’s room during that time. Gwen and Morgana have brought him food and kept him company. During the times when he is alone he flicks thought one of Gaius’s books out of sheer boredom. He has just got to the end of the section on metal ores when Gaius quietly slips in.

“Where is Merlin?” He demands, taking a small amount of satisfaction when the sound of his voice causes Gaius to jump.

“He’s safe,” Gaius assures him with a sigh. He looks weary, and Arthur wants to extend him some pity, but can’t while concern for Merlin burns in his veins.

“I didn’t ask whether he was safe or not,” he says a little more gently but still firm. “I asked where he was.”

“The king made it very clear that Merlin would never be safe so long as he stayed in Camelot. I took him somewhere outside of your father’s jurisdiction. Somewhere he would be safe. I made that decision, sire, and I convinced Merlin it was in his best interests to come with me.”

The revelation hurts Arthur more than he will ever let Gaius know. He risked everything to free Merlin and his thanks is to lose him all over again.

“Yes,” Arthur finally sighs with feigned indifference, “but we both know that Merlin is an idiot.”

“Merlin knows what’s good for him,” Gaius snaps and it startles Arthur. He’s never known Gaius to raise his voice like this.

“If you care for him,” Gaius says, more gently this time. “If you care for him, as you claim to do, you’ll leave him be and let him stay safe.”

Arthur sags. He knows full well that what Gaius is saying makes perfect sense, and that if Merlin was here he’d be telling him at great length what a selfish prat he was being. But he can’t let it go. He can’t let Merlin go and maybe that is selfish but he doesn’t care.

“Just let me talk to him,” he finally says softly. “I promise I won’t force him to come back. I just need to see him. Please, Gaius.”

“If the king finds out you’ve gone looking for Merlin then persuading him to leave will all have been for nothing,” Gaius points out.

“Then I’ll just have to make sure my father doesn’t know,” Arthur replies. “I think a hunting trip is in order to take my mind off the fact that Merlin chose to leave.”

A wry smile curls at Gaius’s lips and he smiles.

“I took him home.”

* * *

Arthur rides hard and fast, not stopping for food or sleep, and he makes it to Ealdor in a day. Merlin’s mother meets him at the door to her house and doesn’t seem especially surprised to see him.

“I knew you’d come,” she says as she tethers his horse for him. “I told Merlin the last time you were here that the two of you clearly shared a bond. I’m happy I was right.”

Arthur feels the burning heat of shame at the amount of faith this woman has in him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep him safe.”

“No,” Hunith gasps, taking his hands into hers. “I’m the one who should be sorry. You must think I’m a terrible mother.”

This startles Arthur. He doesn’t have much experience with mothers but Merlin’s as always struck him as a kind and generous woman.
“Why would you think that?”

“I sent my only son to a kingdom where magic is forbidden, where the penalty of using magic is death. I thought it would be easier for him to disappear in a large city but I see now that that was foolishly naïve of me.”

Arthur gives her hands a gentle squeeze and a kind smile. “Well, I for one am thankful that you sent him.”

She smiles shy at that. “Thank you, sire. You know, he thinks the world of you too. All he’s talked about since Gaius brought him here is you and what you did to save him.”

Arthur can feel his throat tighten and he coughs into his hand. “Can I see him?”

“Oh, of course!” Hunith quickly exclaims. “I shouldn’t have kept you. He’s inside.”

She sees him into the house where Merlin is lying propped up in her bed. His eyes light up when he sees that his mother isn’t alone.

“Arthur! What are you doing here?”

Hunith smiles and quietly excuses herself.

“What do you think I’m doing here, you idiot,” Arthur says when they are alone. “I came to make sure that you’re all right.”

“I’m fine,” Merlin replies with a grin. “Well, not fine. Gaius has prescribed bed rest for a week so my mum is having to stay next door. She’s got a bad back so she can’t sleep on the floor and—“

“Merlin,” Arthur interrupts with a wry smile. “You’re babbling.”

“Right. Sorry. I just didn’t expect you to come.”

“Of course I was going to come,” Arthur retorts. “Gaius drugs me, again, and when I wake up you’re gone. I thought my father had had you murdered.”

“Sorry,” Merlin says again, having the decency to look embarrassed at least. “I was just trying to do the right thing. Gaius said that if I came back to Camelot the king was going to punish you as well as me.”

Arthur sighs. It wouldn’t surprise him if his father has threatened to flog him.
“I don’t care what happens to me,” he tells Merlin. “A spell in the dungeon is nothing against your life.”

“That’s funny,” Merlin replies with a small smile. “Because to me a spell is nothing against you being locked in a dungeon.”

“This isn’t a joke!” Arthur snaps. “Do you have any idea how it felt seeing you in that cell?”

“Yes,” Merlin replies softly. “The same way I felt when you were bitten by the Questing Beast. I’m not going to be sorry I used magic to save your life, Arthur, so don’t ask me to be.”

Arthur sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed. “This has to stop, Merlin. You can’t keep putting your life ahead of mine.”

Merlin shrugs. “You’re more important than I am.”

“Only in the eyes of my father. In mine we are both equal.”

Merlin smiles. “And that is why you are going to be a great king.”

Arthur has nothing to say to that.

“By the way,” Merlin continues. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for saving my life. Thank you, sire.”

“You’re welcome, Merlin.”

They sit in silence for a while until Arthur tries, and fails, to stifle a yawn.

“Why don’t you lie down,” Merlin suggests. “There’s plenty of room and you look exhausted.”

“Hmm,” Arthur huffs. “Well, I suppose at least this time I can be sure Gaius hasn’t drugged me. I really must learn to stop accepting things from him.”

He kicks off his boots and lies down beside Merlin.

“Why didn’t you escape when my father locked you up,” he asks after a few minutes. “You could have, if you’d wanted to, am I right?”

“Yes,” Merlin replies.

“So why didn’t you?” Arthur presses, almost afraid of what the answer is going to be.

“My place is at your side,” Merlin says softly. “I told you, I will be your manservant until the day that I die.”

Merlin’s words scare Arthur. It’s a terrible responsibility to bear, knowing that no matter what he says Merlin will always put Arthur’s life ahead of his own. Yet something about it is also strangely comforting. He know that Merlin will always be there, no matter what happens in the future.

He allows that comforting feeling, and the sounds of Merlin’s soft breathing, to lull him to sleep.

* * *

He wakes feeling warm and comfortable and it takes a moment for him to realise that some time during the night, Merlin has curled up against him. His head is pillowed on Arthur’s shoulder and his arm is slung across Arthur’s chest.

Arthur lies still, knowing that as soon as he moves, he runs the risk of waking Merlin up. He’s been through enough already and needs to rest. And besides that it actually feels quite nice having him this close. It reassures him that Merlin is alive and safe. Arthur intends to keep it that way.

Sadly, all too soon, Merlin lets out a sleepy murmur that indicates his awakening. Arthur turns his head to face Merlin and freezes as their lips brush together. Merlin, for his part, doesn’t seem fazed by this and simply offers him a lazy smile.

“Morning.”

“Good morning,” Arthur manages to croak. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Merlin replies. “Better now that you’re here.”

Arthur is now acutely aware that Merlin’s thumb is brushing rhythmically against his bare chest where the placket of his shirt cuts away. He stiffens but if Merlin notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“How long are you going to stay?” Merlin asks, still stroking him and seemingly unaware that he’s doing it.

“As long as it takes to figure this out,” he says. “You belong in Camelot.”

With me, he adds silently.

Merlin’s hand stills and Arthur mourns the loss. “Arthur, you know I’d like nothing more than to return to Camelot with you, but it’s not safe - for either of us. Everyone knows what I am now and I can’t just stop using magic. I’ve been able to use it since before I could talk. It’s part of who I am.”

“I’d never take that away from you,” Arthur responds. “But there must be something we can do.”

Merlin shrugs helplessly. “The only way the king will let me return is if I can’t do magic anymore.”

Arthur considers this for a moment and then his eyes widen as he is suddenly hit by an idea.

“No, Merlin, you’ve got it!”

“I have?” Merlin frowns.

“Yes! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner.”

He springs out of bed and hurriedly tugs on his boots while Merlin watches him in confusion.

“Are you fit to ride?” He asks when he sees that Merlin has made no move to get out of bed.

Merlin nods slowly, total incomprehension written all over his face.

“Then get dressed,” Arthur grins. “We’re going back to Camelot.”

* * *

Uther starts in his seat, a frown of disappointment marring his features when Arthur bursts into The Great Hall yet again, this time with Merlin at his side.

“I see you have found your manservant,” h
e spits the final word as though it were poison in his mouth.

“I apologise for interrupting your meeting, Father,” Arthur says, trying to keep the disdain out of his voice. He needs his father to listen to this. “I have found a way to allow Merlin to stay in Camelot.”

He glances at Merlin and nods. “Show him.”

Keeping his eyes lowered Merlin raises his arms to reveal a metal bracelet on each wrist.

“These are made of iron,” Arthur explains. “Iron suppresses magic and as long as Merlin wears these he cannot do any spells. They are locked in place and there is only one key, which I will give to you.”

He approaches the throne and drops a small, metal key in Uther’s hand.

The king regards the key for a moment and then looks at Gaius. “Is he speaking the truth?”

“Iron has certainly been known to protect against magic,” Gaius agrees. “I have never seen it tested though.”

Uther nods and in one fluid motion he draws his dagger and hurls it at Merlin.

Merlin lets out a startled yelp and ducks.

“Are you insane?” Arthur asks angrily, as he hurries back to Merlin’s side. “You might have killed him!”

“If I was intending to kill him he would be dead already. I was simply testing your claim,” Uther replies coolly. “You appear to be speaking the truth. The boy may remain, but I will be watching you both carefully, be warned. Now, please leave so I can continue my meeting.”

* * *

“We’re going to have to be extra careful now,” Arthur says as he settles Merlin down on his bed. “My father will have people watching us at all times and if he finds out we lied…”

“He won’t,” Merlin reassures him with a tired smile. “Trust me I’ve been keeping the magic secret all my life. I’m good at it now.”

“But you still got caught,” Arthur points out.

“It won’t happen again,” Merlin promises. “Just try and stay out of trouble for a while.”

Arthur manages a smile. “I’ll do my best. This won’t be forever, Merlin, I promise, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe in the meantime.”

“I know you will. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you came back,” Arthur says as he reclaims his seat at Merlin’s bedside. “Things would have been very dull around here without you.”

“I’m glad to be back,” Merlin smiles. “This is my home now.”

Arthur returns the smile, suddenly struck by the strong feeling that no matter what happens, everything is going to be all right. The feeling makes him bold and he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to Merlin’s lips.

“Welcome home.”

The End