any verbal account of a personpairing.
1850wc. For belovedsnail
. Huge thanks to walkawayslowly
. Wherein Gisela attempts to put classical film theory class to practical use. Title from A Dialectic Approach to Film Form.summary.
Jensen is shy and always has been.music.
Sia; Breathe Me (Ulrich Schnauss Remix)
] (k, i hope this one is new. :))
This story is a collection of made-up facts.
Audition room, Century City, soundstage. Jensen is looking past a camera. He is holding a sheaf of papers and on those papers are phrases like "Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a while."
His voice is loud and it echoes. The executives on the other side of the table nod slowly before signing the release that sends him to Vancouver.
Two AM, bar in Vancouver's west end. Jensen's knuckles are bleeding and bruises are starting to form. He exhales, his breath hanging in the cold air. Jared shouts something and Jensen turns, goes back. He fights with his back to a wall, and when he's done three guys are being sent to the ER and Jared is leaning on him heavily.
Filming a promo on a soundstage in LA. Jensen looks into the camera. His voice wavers and he says "Catch us Thursdays at 9, 8 o'clock central."
"Cut," the director says. "Next take with Jared too, okay?"
Jensen sighs, nods. He turns around. Jared is standing off to the side with a smile on his face. Behind them, the Impala is gleaming. The director asks them to lean against it, then he cracks a joke. Jared laughs, his head ducking down, and then Jensen laughs too.
On set, between takes on a night shoot. Jensen strums a couple of chords on his guitar. Outside, the sun is already very low on the horizon. He slides a finger up the fretboard, makes the guitar squeal. He twists the knob and the sound goes a little higher, then a little lower.
There's a knock on the door. Jensen turns and Jared is standing there holding the door open.
"Want to come?" Jared asks, and Jensen shakes his head.
"No, don't think so. Maybe next time, okay?"
Jared nods, steps down the door to Jensen's trailer and the door swings closed behind him. Inside, Jensen sets the guitar down, walks over to the trailer's small bedroom and opens the window. He can hear Jared laughing outside. He turns, walks back into the bigger room and picks the guitar up again. He strums a couple of chords, and then drags some paper and a pencil over, writes a few notes.
Filming, next day. Jared is dressed in Sam's clothes and he is sliding around in the makeup chair, throwing gummy bears at Jensen. Jensen smiles, catches as many as he can and throws back the ones that aren't red. Jared starts lobbing jawbreakers over and Jensen catches those too. He throws one at Jared, and misses; it hits the mirror and the jawbreaker shatters. Jared hitches a breath, a gasp, and starts laughing. Jensen smiles and pops one into his mouth.
Later. One of the guest stars is talking to Jared, laughing, and Jensen can see them. He turns, walks to his trailer and closes the door. A few minutes later Jared is on the top step, knocking. Jensen opens the door and Jared asks "Want to come with?"
Jensen shakes his head and says "No, don't think so. Maybe next time, okay?"
Morning, Jensen's apartment. Jensen is lying in his bed and the sheets are down around his ankles. Outside, the day is overcast. He gets up, pulls a sweater on, then pads over the the kitchen. He opens the fridge, pulls out some milk into a glass and then takes a sip - pours the rest down the sink. He opens his fridge again and there is a box of chinese takeout and some apple slices. He closes the fridge again and dials a preprogrammed number in his cell phone. Fifteen minutes later, a delivery person asks him to sign a receipt for one order of mongolian beef, one order of chicken fried rice, and one order of Molson. Jensen takes the food into his living room, where he sets it out on the coffee table in order of course. He gets up, walks to the cabinet and gets one fork, one knife and one glass - he puts the glass back.
Jensen only uses one half of the king-sized bed in his bedroom. The black sheets are labeled 1200-cotton, and even the pillowcases are stamped Egyptian. There is a gas fireplace in the wall at the end of the bed and the stickers on it are still new. There is a fine layer of dust on the mantle and two photos: one of his family, one of Jared and him at the pilot's wrap.
Wrapping, after the seventeenth visit to Kraft Services. When Jared knocks on the door, Jensen calls out, "Come in."
Jared ducks his head as he steps in. He looks around, then finally decides to settle on the couch. Jensen fiddles with the coffeemaker. He pours two mugs, adds milk and sugar to both.
Jared clears his throat, says, "So. How's it going?"
He laughs awkwardly. Jensen smiles and says, "Not bad."
Filming, midday. The set breaks for lunch. Jensen walks towards his trailer but Jared steps in, blocks him. Jensen nods and Jared asks, "Hey, want to come over later? Stay in with some beer and movies?"
Jensen doesn't say anything for a second. Then he grins and says, "Sure thing."
Eleven PM, Jared's apartment. Jensen stands outside the door and he's holding a sixpack and a DVD of the funniest youtube videos he could find. "Hold on," Jared says, "just a second."
He lets Jensen in and Jensen sets the drinks down on the kitchen counter. He can hear on half of Jared's conversation:
"I've got to go - yeah, he's here and I have to go- I'll call back! Fine. I'll talk to you later. Bye."
Jared shrugs and Jensen shrugs back. "I can leave, if you want," Jensen says, but Jared shakes his head.
"No, I want you here," he says. "I invited you, and no way am I going- you know. Yeah. And besides, it's no problem. I want you here."
Jensen nods, and after a minute he smiles.
Wrap party before hiatus, around 2AM. Jensen is on his fifth Labatt Blue. Jared wraps an arm over Jensen's shoulder and says, "Let's get out of here, okay?"
Jensen nods. He walks in almost a straight line to the curb, where there is a taxi waiting. When Jensen wakes up, he is in Jared's rented house. He is fully dressed and on top of the covers. Jared is beside him, snoring. There are dogs panting in his face, leashes in their mouths. Jensen yawns, stretches, and the tips of his fingers touch Jared's arm.
He gets up, rolls his shoulders. There is a bottle of orange juice in the fridge and he drinks from it straight. He walks to the back door and lets the dogs out, watches them running around the yard.
Hiatus, third week. Jensen is visiting his parents' house. The pool in the back warm. When everyone leaves he strips down and jumps in, long strokes cutting across the slight waves of the pool water.
Night after hiatus. Jared kisses him. They are both sober and neither of them are particularly tired. Jensen pulls back after a minute, and realises that his hand is on Jared's thigh, the denim is warm from his skin. Jared half-grins and Jensen kisses him back.
Sandy calls and as she rants into the answering machine, Jensen slides out from under Jared's hands and leaves.
Morning after. Jensen sits on his couch, guitar across his lap. He hears Jared knock on the door and he doesn't answer.
That evening. After Jensen sits on his couch, the television is on and the antenna barely picks up CBC news. He hears Jared knock, then he hears muffled words. He gets up and opens the door. Jared is standing on the bottom stair and he says, "This was a mistake."
Jensen moves to close the door but Jared starts rambling, he says, "Me and Sandy, we're, shit, I'm not gonna say just friends because friends mean a lot and I don't wanna diminish that but me and Sandy, we're really, really, really good friends and I trust her and she was ranting at me because I forgot to pick her up at the airport, and really, who doesn't get pissed off when they're supposed to be picked up and aren't, and anyway, we're really, really good friends and I love her but I'm not in love with her, you know? And she likes having someone on her arm at events, it doesn't look good for girls to show up alone, double standard and all that, and I really love her, but-"
He pauses, takes a breath. "Not mentioning all that before was the mistake, Jensen. Not the, you know, other thing." He looks at his shoes.
Jensen nods. Then he closes the door.
Two days later, after makeup but before principal shooting. Jared stands on the top step in front of Jensen's trailer door. He knocks. Jensen opens the door. Jared doesn't say anything, and Jensen moves to close the door.
"Wait! Shit-" Jared looks at the ground, then catches Jensen's eyes. "I'm going over to do some grocery shopping, thinking about making some chicken, or, I don't know, it's not fancy but maybe you want to come with?"
"Uh," Jensen's brow furrows and Jared cuts in, saying "Or maybe I can just hang out with you?"
"Okay," Jensen steps back and lets Jared in.
Jensen's apartment, midnight. The bedroom is dark. Jensen leaves the light in the kitchen on and slivers make their way past the half-closed door, make shadows on the floor.
Jared is sleeping. Jensen stands at the doorway for a moment, then walks in. He's dressed in drawstring pajama pants and no shirt and his movements appear to be measured and practiced. He slides under the covers, rolls, throws his arm over onto Jared's side of the bed.
The next day. Jared knocks on the door and when Jensen opens it, he sees Jared's smile. He leaves the door open and as Jared follows him inside Jensen says, "You know, you don't have to knock anymore."
He walks over to his television and the image flickers. "Help me out with this?" Jensen motions at the television and Jared plays with the rabbit ears on top, stopping when Jensen tells him too.
Jared waves at the antenna, as if telling it to 'stay.' He joins Jensen on the couch, shoves at him with a shoulder. "So, a bunch of the crew are going out, some bar in the middle of Surrey. Want to come with?"
Jensen is suddenly aware of the rough texture of the couch's fabric under his hands, the clash of colours on the ugly fabric. The television hisses and crackles, showing its age, and the antenna glints, catching the light. The kettle on the burner steams and he can feel humidity gathering in the small space; already taste the sugar on his tongue, the salt of Jared's skin. His hands itch like he wants to touch.
Finally he says, "Yeah, I think I will."