New SPN RPS story: Fragile (J2, adult)
So, at ComicCon this weekend, Jensen had this to say about All Hell Breaks Loose part 2:
...My favorite just because of the amount, the toll that it took on me personally, was the season finale of season two...You know, after building a relationship both on camera and off camera with the guy who plays your brother on the show, and then to have to play scenes in a room with him dead, was very, very hard and emotional for me, and at the end of the day, I was completely spent.
His comments made me smile, because right after AHBL pt 1 aired, I wrote a little snippet along these lines, though I didn't post it. It's a little self-indulgent. *pink* Anyway, here it is.
Fragile
SPN RPS, Jared/Jensen, 1,831 words
Summary: It's the toughest work Jensen's ever done.
Fragile
by Destina
The night before they shoot the scene they've both been dreading, Jensen can't sleep.
Jared doesn't have that problem. He went out like a light the minute he crawled into bed beside Jensen at 2AM, mumbling "Not fair, fucking night shoots, hate 'em," before conking out. He's slowly been encroaching on Jensen's space ever since, an inch at a time. Jensen thinks of it as a dance they do in their sleep, situating themselves just so, Jared's ass sticking out when he sprawls, Jensen's body curling so they will fit together.
Tonight, though, Jensen's not asleep, and he shifts when Jared shifts, conscious of him, of the warmth of his skin and the way his shoulders twitch when the heater kicks on. His hair falls across his eyes, and Jensen smoothes it away. It's been a long week; there's a scratch on Jared's face from the loose wood on the set, red and puffy, and leftover makeup doesn't hide it.
Around 4:30, he spins the clock to the wall and rolls on his back, listening to Jared breathe. Jared's wheezing a little, not quite snoring. The weather's been bad, nothing but rain, and they're both sick of the cold nights and the damp.
He sits up and puts two fingers on Jared's back, traces lines between freckles invisible in the dark, and stops to feel Jared's heartbeat. Two layers of skin between them, the only thing holding in blood and bone and all the messy complications two guys can create for themselves when they decide to stop running away from what they want.
Jared jerks awake suddenly and twists to look at Jensen, then reaches for the light. It floods the room with stark white, and Jensen closes his eyes. "Jensen?" Jared's voice is rough, compelling Jensen to open his eyes, and he finds Jared staring at him, sleep-confused. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Jensen says. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I didn't mean to."
"You sure?" Jared turns on his side and pushes up on one elbow, then reaches to touch Jensen's face, fingertips tracing Jensen's lower lip. "You look beat, man."
"Yeah. Just running my lines in my head, is all."
Jared blinks and says, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." He leans back, switches off the light, and pulls Jensen down on the bed over his faint protests, curls up around him and says, "Don't make me hit you on the head."
"Wouldn't want that," Jensen says, smiling.
He still doesn't sleep, but he can rest, for a while.
**
Take one: close front shot. Bob says they'll get it in one, if they can. Jensen doesn't believe him. They've been having close-quarters discussions all morning about angles and lighting and close-ups, and they seem to think he can turn the tears on and off at will. Nutter thinks he's a good actor, sold him that way to Kripke and Singer, but days like this, Jensen thinks he's a fraud.
They call action and Jensen snaps into Dean's skin, forcibly pushing into Dean's headspace where it's dark and ugly and anxious and full of blood-red panic. He babbles his lines into Jared's face, conscious of the warm flush on Jared's cheeks. He strokes his hands over Jared's cheeks, pushes his hair away from his face and calls out to Sam.
In the middle of it, he freezes, and they have to start over.
Jared's eyes open and he looks at Jensen, way too perceptive. Jensen trades his muddy jeans for a dry pair, stands next to Jared in wardrobe and won't look at him. Jared's silent. He respects Jensen's methods, even if he thinks they're weird.
Jensen clings to Dean's headspace, and random thoughts crawl through his head, flashes of how heavy Sam would be in Dean's arms, the weight of guilt and love.
Take two: he falls to his knees and nails it this time, stumbling over random words like he planned it that way, and they don't stop. Jared's head lolls into his hand, against his shoulder, limp like a doll, and Jensen doesn't fake the break in his voice when he calls out for Sam.
This time, they get what they need.
This time, Jensen's hands are shaking when he touches Jared's face.
**
Down time between shots breaks the momentum he's got going. It's getting harder to maintain this black space between Jensen's life and Sam's death, that place Dean inhabits like a bat takes to a cave. He rubs his eyes and climbs into his chair, and then he sees the remnants of red dye on his hands, Sam's blood brought back with him into the real world.
Jared comes to sit beside him and puts a blanket over him while they wait for Singer and the lighting guys to set up for the overhead. He puts a cup of hot coffee in Jensen's hand and wraps his fingers around Jensen's wrist, not holding him, just stroking the thin skin protecting his rapid pulse.
**
Overhead shot doesn't work on the first take; too much fake rain. It takes four tries to get it right, and every time Jensen wraps his arms around Jared, a progression of grief in the form of enclosure until he's rocking Jared in his arms. He's hyper-conscious of Jared's dead weight, and he listens for the soft cadence of Jared's breath, the indication that this is just a scene, nothing more.
He doesn't hear it and he shakes Jared, pushes him away hard, breaking the moment. Singer cuts; Jared leans back on his knees and there's naked worry on his face. Jensen turns his face away, chooses not to see.
They try again, and this time Jensen concentrates on what it would feel like, knowing his brother was dead. Jared's breath is warm against his neck, and he wants to end this scene right now, but he has to stay with it. He tries thinking of the things that usually put him in the right place - his momma dead and gone, his daddy - but it's impossible, Jared's here, now, and all the worst things cascade into his mind's eye, Jared hurt and bleeding, Jared dead, Jared leaving him.
He rocks Jared in his arms and when it's over, Jared's arms come up around him, no matter that half the crew is watching. "Jensen, man, it's okay," he says, quiet against Jensen's ear, and Jensen nods, pulls away with a pat to Jared's back.
**
One more shot to go, the hardest: Jensen has to cry on cue.
They sit to the side, scripts for 2.22 in their respective laps, but Jared isn't reading. His fingers curl around the nape of Jensen's neck, rubbing the short soft hairs there, and Jensen tips his head back into the soothing touch.
Jared doesn't speak.
**
Scene 17 becomes a multitude of takes because Jensen can't muster it up. Having Jared in his arms, so still, is wearing on him more with every take.
Jensen gives it all he has, but he's so far outside of Dean's headspace there's no hope. He can only feel the living weight of Jared's body, think about what it'd be like to lose him, and then he shuts down, not going there, never going there, not even for this scene.
They break out the glycerin tears and Jensen's eyes sting, but it's worth it, hands knotted in Sam's damp jacket, the smell of moss and rot clinging to it in ways too real to contemplate, and he turns his face into Jared's hair, wishing he could hide his face the same way Dean would. No way to hide. Not this time.
**
The car drops them off at Jensen's hotel just past dawn. End of the work week; one and a half days off, and Sunday night they're back at it. They're still not talking, no words exchanged at all, but Jared's hand stays on him - shoulder, neck, the small of his back. He doesn't let Jensen get in the shower, but pulls the clothes off him and steers him toward the bed patiently.
His silence wears on Jensen's nerves.
"Jared," he says, surprised to hear how hoarse he is.
"Hush now," Jared tells him, drawing the curtains. He pulls off his jeans, his boots, crawls into the bed with Jensen and pulls the blankets up over them, a cocoon of warmth Jensen can't escape.
He's asleep in moments, Jared curled protectively around him like he can erase every bad thought, every possibility.
**
Jared wakes him sometime in the early morning, and Jensen's just barely aware of what's happening, of Jared's lips against the hollow of his throat, before Jared moves and Jensen is inside him. He gasps and looks up, and finds Jared moving over him, his hands on Jensen's chest for balance.
"Jesus," Jensen whispers, flailing up to catch Jared's shoulders and pull him down into a kiss. Jared's so tight around him, and he's moving slow, groaning into Jensen's mouth when Jensen's hips snap up to meet him.
"You with me?" Jared asks, riding him faster now, his mouth open against Jensen's.
"Yeah, god - yeah." Jensen loses control of the rhythm and Jared sets it, hard, fast, kisses like demands every time he settles closer on Jensen's hips. Jensen's fucking deep into him, his warm body, all that tender skin unmarked, and when he moves his hands down Jared's back he comes, toes curled. Jared kisses and kisses him, mouth open and sloppy, and just as Jensen's able to breathe again Jared comes all over them both, surprising a short laugh out of Jensen.
"That's more like it," Jared says smugly, kissing Jensen's smile. He drops his head down on Jensen's shoulder and doesn't move until Jensen runs his hand through Jared's hair and says,
"I'm sorry."
Jared's kissing down his throat again, across his chest, his heart. "You leave them where they belong," he says, lifting his head to look at Jensen. "Don't bring that baggage in here with us. You get me?"
Jensen nods. "It was just...it..." No more words to describe it. Jensen thinks maybe he shouldn't try.
"I had to look at you with a fucking tube down your throat," Jared tells him, thumb dragging gently over Jensen's lips. "I know." Jared lifts off him, settles beside him. "Besides, I'm a juggernaut."
Jensen snorts with laughter, and then Jared starts with the grin, and Jensen says, "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Indestructible," Jared says, one arm curled beneath his head. "Unstoppable."
Jensen wants to say thank God, but he stops himself. Instead he says, "This was a rough week."
"Uh-huh," Jared says, and when Jensen meets his eyes, he sees it all there.
He nuzzles into Jared's neck, absorbs Jared's soft laughter and the warm sweaty smell of him, the pulse strong beneath his lips, nothing but strength and life.
end
...My favorite just because of the amount, the toll that it took on me personally, was the season finale of season two...You know, after building a relationship both on camera and off camera with the guy who plays your brother on the show, and then to have to play scenes in a room with him dead, was very, very hard and emotional for me, and at the end of the day, I was completely spent.
His comments made me smile, because right after AHBL pt 1 aired, I wrote a little snippet along these lines, though I didn't post it. It's a little self-indulgent. *pink* Anyway, here it is.
Fragile
SPN RPS, Jared/Jensen, 1,831 words
Summary: It's the toughest work Jensen's ever done.
Fragile
by Destina
The night before they shoot the scene they've both been dreading, Jensen can't sleep.
Jared doesn't have that problem. He went out like a light the minute he crawled into bed beside Jensen at 2AM, mumbling "Not fair, fucking night shoots, hate 'em," before conking out. He's slowly been encroaching on Jensen's space ever since, an inch at a time. Jensen thinks of it as a dance they do in their sleep, situating themselves just so, Jared's ass sticking out when he sprawls, Jensen's body curling so they will fit together.
Tonight, though, Jensen's not asleep, and he shifts when Jared shifts, conscious of him, of the warmth of his skin and the way his shoulders twitch when the heater kicks on. His hair falls across his eyes, and Jensen smoothes it away. It's been a long week; there's a scratch on Jared's face from the loose wood on the set, red and puffy, and leftover makeup doesn't hide it.
Around 4:30, he spins the clock to the wall and rolls on his back, listening to Jared breathe. Jared's wheezing a little, not quite snoring. The weather's been bad, nothing but rain, and they're both sick of the cold nights and the damp.
He sits up and puts two fingers on Jared's back, traces lines between freckles invisible in the dark, and stops to feel Jared's heartbeat. Two layers of skin between them, the only thing holding in blood and bone and all the messy complications two guys can create for themselves when they decide to stop running away from what they want.
Jared jerks awake suddenly and twists to look at Jensen, then reaches for the light. It floods the room with stark white, and Jensen closes his eyes. "Jensen?" Jared's voice is rough, compelling Jensen to open his eyes, and he finds Jared staring at him, sleep-confused. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Jensen says. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I didn't mean to."
"You sure?" Jared turns on his side and pushes up on one elbow, then reaches to touch Jensen's face, fingertips tracing Jensen's lower lip. "You look beat, man."
"Yeah. Just running my lines in my head, is all."
Jared blinks and says, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." He leans back, switches off the light, and pulls Jensen down on the bed over his faint protests, curls up around him and says, "Don't make me hit you on the head."
"Wouldn't want that," Jensen says, smiling.
He still doesn't sleep, but he can rest, for a while.
**
Take one: close front shot. Bob says they'll get it in one, if they can. Jensen doesn't believe him. They've been having close-quarters discussions all morning about angles and lighting and close-ups, and they seem to think he can turn the tears on and off at will. Nutter thinks he's a good actor, sold him that way to Kripke and Singer, but days like this, Jensen thinks he's a fraud.
They call action and Jensen snaps into Dean's skin, forcibly pushing into Dean's headspace where it's dark and ugly and anxious and full of blood-red panic. He babbles his lines into Jared's face, conscious of the warm flush on Jared's cheeks. He strokes his hands over Jared's cheeks, pushes his hair away from his face and calls out to Sam.
In the middle of it, he freezes, and they have to start over.
Jared's eyes open and he looks at Jensen, way too perceptive. Jensen trades his muddy jeans for a dry pair, stands next to Jared in wardrobe and won't look at him. Jared's silent. He respects Jensen's methods, even if he thinks they're weird.
Jensen clings to Dean's headspace, and random thoughts crawl through his head, flashes of how heavy Sam would be in Dean's arms, the weight of guilt and love.
Take two: he falls to his knees and nails it this time, stumbling over random words like he planned it that way, and they don't stop. Jared's head lolls into his hand, against his shoulder, limp like a doll, and Jensen doesn't fake the break in his voice when he calls out for Sam.
This time, they get what they need.
This time, Jensen's hands are shaking when he touches Jared's face.
**
Down time between shots breaks the momentum he's got going. It's getting harder to maintain this black space between Jensen's life and Sam's death, that place Dean inhabits like a bat takes to a cave. He rubs his eyes and climbs into his chair, and then he sees the remnants of red dye on his hands, Sam's blood brought back with him into the real world.
Jared comes to sit beside him and puts a blanket over him while they wait for Singer and the lighting guys to set up for the overhead. He puts a cup of hot coffee in Jensen's hand and wraps his fingers around Jensen's wrist, not holding him, just stroking the thin skin protecting his rapid pulse.
**
Overhead shot doesn't work on the first take; too much fake rain. It takes four tries to get it right, and every time Jensen wraps his arms around Jared, a progression of grief in the form of enclosure until he's rocking Jared in his arms. He's hyper-conscious of Jared's dead weight, and he listens for the soft cadence of Jared's breath, the indication that this is just a scene, nothing more.
He doesn't hear it and he shakes Jared, pushes him away hard, breaking the moment. Singer cuts; Jared leans back on his knees and there's naked worry on his face. Jensen turns his face away, chooses not to see.
They try again, and this time Jensen concentrates on what it would feel like, knowing his brother was dead. Jared's breath is warm against his neck, and he wants to end this scene right now, but he has to stay with it. He tries thinking of the things that usually put him in the right place - his momma dead and gone, his daddy - but it's impossible, Jared's here, now, and all the worst things cascade into his mind's eye, Jared hurt and bleeding, Jared dead, Jared leaving him.
He rocks Jared in his arms and when it's over, Jared's arms come up around him, no matter that half the crew is watching. "Jensen, man, it's okay," he says, quiet against Jensen's ear, and Jensen nods, pulls away with a pat to Jared's back.
**
One more shot to go, the hardest: Jensen has to cry on cue.
They sit to the side, scripts for 2.22 in their respective laps, but Jared isn't reading. His fingers curl around the nape of Jensen's neck, rubbing the short soft hairs there, and Jensen tips his head back into the soothing touch.
Jared doesn't speak.
**
Scene 17 becomes a multitude of takes because Jensen can't muster it up. Having Jared in his arms, so still, is wearing on him more with every take.
Jensen gives it all he has, but he's so far outside of Dean's headspace there's no hope. He can only feel the living weight of Jared's body, think about what it'd be like to lose him, and then he shuts down, not going there, never going there, not even for this scene.
They break out the glycerin tears and Jensen's eyes sting, but it's worth it, hands knotted in Sam's damp jacket, the smell of moss and rot clinging to it in ways too real to contemplate, and he turns his face into Jared's hair, wishing he could hide his face the same way Dean would. No way to hide. Not this time.
**
The car drops them off at Jensen's hotel just past dawn. End of the work week; one and a half days off, and Sunday night they're back at it. They're still not talking, no words exchanged at all, but Jared's hand stays on him - shoulder, neck, the small of his back. He doesn't let Jensen get in the shower, but pulls the clothes off him and steers him toward the bed patiently.
His silence wears on Jensen's nerves.
"Jared," he says, surprised to hear how hoarse he is.
"Hush now," Jared tells him, drawing the curtains. He pulls off his jeans, his boots, crawls into the bed with Jensen and pulls the blankets up over them, a cocoon of warmth Jensen can't escape.
He's asleep in moments, Jared curled protectively around him like he can erase every bad thought, every possibility.
**
Jared wakes him sometime in the early morning, and Jensen's just barely aware of what's happening, of Jared's lips against the hollow of his throat, before Jared moves and Jensen is inside him. He gasps and looks up, and finds Jared moving over him, his hands on Jensen's chest for balance.
"Jesus," Jensen whispers, flailing up to catch Jared's shoulders and pull him down into a kiss. Jared's so tight around him, and he's moving slow, groaning into Jensen's mouth when Jensen's hips snap up to meet him.
"You with me?" Jared asks, riding him faster now, his mouth open against Jensen's.
"Yeah, god - yeah." Jensen loses control of the rhythm and Jared sets it, hard, fast, kisses like demands every time he settles closer on Jensen's hips. Jensen's fucking deep into him, his warm body, all that tender skin unmarked, and when he moves his hands down Jared's back he comes, toes curled. Jared kisses and kisses him, mouth open and sloppy, and just as Jensen's able to breathe again Jared comes all over them both, surprising a short laugh out of Jensen.
"That's more like it," Jared says smugly, kissing Jensen's smile. He drops his head down on Jensen's shoulder and doesn't move until Jensen runs his hand through Jared's hair and says,
"I'm sorry."
Jared's kissing down his throat again, across his chest, his heart. "You leave them where they belong," he says, lifting his head to look at Jensen. "Don't bring that baggage in here with us. You get me?"
Jensen nods. "It was just...it..." No more words to describe it. Jensen thinks maybe he shouldn't try.
"I had to look at you with a fucking tube down your throat," Jared tells him, thumb dragging gently over Jensen's lips. "I know." Jared lifts off him, settles beside him. "Besides, I'm a juggernaut."
Jensen snorts with laughter, and then Jared starts with the grin, and Jensen says, "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Indestructible," Jared says, one arm curled beneath his head. "Unstoppable."
Jensen wants to say thank God, but he stops himself. Instead he says, "This was a rough week."
"Uh-huh," Jared says, and when Jensen meets his eyes, he sees it all there.
He nuzzles into Jared's neck, absorbs Jared's soft laughter and the warm sweaty smell of him, the pulse strong beneath his lips, nothing but strength and life.
end