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Jeff loved days that started quiet, days with an unhurried pace that let the energy of the sun outside diffuse through the blinds and coil up warm in his spine.
The bedroom smelled like coffee and cinnamon and the smoke of bacon. Jensen's leg and hip were warm along the side of his own, and the shuffle of Jensen's rumpled script pages made a counterpoint to the rustling of his own newspaper.
Thursday morning. Jeff tried not to let himself think about it too much--that they only had two more days together in LA until Jensen was flying to Ft. Worth for rehearsals. Even in bed, stretched out in the cool, filtered sunlight, Jeff could feel the tension radiating from Jensen.
The prospect of performing live onstage for the first time since fucking high school wasn't even the worst thing.
It was the damn CW, dragging their heels on deciding if Supernatural would be renewed for a third season. The decision had to come in the next couple of days and Jeff couldn't blame Jensen for not being able to rest until he knew. Jeff could never regret getting involved with Supernatural, could only be thankful for the project that came at a time when he really needed the work and brought him love and friendship. But the CW? Jeff was glad to be done with them, and he wished they would stop jerking Jensen and Jared and the rest of the cast and crew around with their political bullshit.
But they were together and that was a rare enough thing, considering how difficult it was to mesh their schedules. They hadn't seen each other for more than a day here and there all spring, and just knowing that they could wake up together and go to sleep together and then wake up together again was a treat. Behind the cover of his newspaper, Jeff smiled to himself at the news that would make things better for a while, if only Supernatural would get renewed. The Watchmen's shooting schedule and location could hardly be better--the two of them in Vancouver again, even if they'd be working on different sides of town.
But it didn't seem like a good idea to share the news until Jensen heard about his show because the last thing he wanted to do was put more stress on top of the pressure that had Jensen tense in the bed next to him. Jensen was never more gorgeous, more fully himself, than when he was relaxed, and Jeff hated to see the tension drawn in the lines of his jaw, his shoulders. He hated hearing it in his lover's voice, especially the way he had sounded calling from England less than a week earlier.
~~~
On the set in New York, the director called "Cut," and Jeff stepped away from the cameras just far enough to grab a bottle of water.
"Excuse me, Mr. Morgan?" A PA approached him from behind the cameras. He'd already told her she could call him Jeff, but it seemed to embarrass her, so he just left it alone.
"Stacey, what's up?"
She blushed and help up the phone in her hand. "You had a call from Jensen Ackles. He wanted to speak to you right away if possible."
"Thank you." Jeff grabbed the phone out of her hand and walked over to a relatively quiet corner of the set, dialing as he moved. The line connected with a sound of ragged breathing. "Jen, what's going on?"
He felt the physical distance between them sharply. He'd been in Ireland months ago when Jensen was working in Vancouver and LA and now Jensen was in the UK while Jeff was busy filming in New York. He felt like he needed one of those animations showing planes taking off and landing with crisscrossing lines behind them laid out over a sprawling map of the world. "Jen?"
"I'm here. 'm okay. I just--" Jensen broke off with a breathless laugh.
"What happened?" Jeff clenched his free hand into a fist and hid it in his pocket.
"I got--" More of the tense, utterly un-humorous laughter. "I got jumped by a 110 lb. girl."
"What? Jumped?" Jeff felt his stomach lurch up into his chest.
"Literally, ah, she jumped over the side of the stairs and, uh, tackled me. To the ground."
"Jesus Christ, Jen. Is there no fucking security in that place? Shit, are you hurt?"
"No, hey, I'm okay. I was just shook up. Wanted to talk to you."
"I'm glad you called. Dude, I wish I was there."
"Yeah." Jensen swallowed with a thick gulp that echoed over the phone line. "I do, too. I guess it's pretty funny, though. You know, scared of a girl half my size."
"I don't think it's funny at all. I think she could have been fucking dangerous."
"I'm trying to pretend I don't know that."
Jensen sounded better, his voice steady again even if Jeff could still hear the tension. Jeff, on the other hand, felt his heart speeding up as he imagined all the what-ifs. What if this chick had been more malevolently insane? What if she'd been armed? What if all this was over when he wasn't ready, couldn't imagine being ready to lose what they had together? "I'm sorry, babe. I wish I was there," he said again.
"I know." Jensen took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "But I'm okay. This thing is pretty good, you know?"
"Yeah?"
"A lot of nice women, and some of them traveled crazy far to see us. A few husbands who look totally overwhelmed and out-numbered."
"You know you don't have to stay? They fucked up; you don't have to stay."
"I know, but they're good people -- most of them. I can't walk out like that."
"Well, you just let me know if you have any more unruly fans. I'll get the props guy to let me bring my fire hose over to keep them in line."
Jensen's laugh this time sounded natural, almost relaxed. "I'd like to see that."
"You good?"
"I'm talkin' to you, aren't I?"
Jeff rolled his eyes and felt his face grow warm at the same time. "Aw, babe, I gotta get off here before I throw up and ruin my costume."
"Asshole." The grin Jeff could hear in Jensen's voice made him smile in return.
"You'd know."
"I'll see you in a few days, right? Your project still wrapping on time?"
"Yeah, maybe even half a day early, if that's not too much of a miracle."
"Cool. Monday at your place. I'm looking forward to it."
"I'll see you then."
"Bye."
Jeff handed his phone back to the PA and then called for a quick break. He needed some time to get back into character, some time to stop wondering who he would have gotten a call from if something worse had happened to Jensen.
~~~
Nearly a week later, the thing that gnawed at Jeff was how off it had felt when Jensen said 'your place.' Jensen had gotten a cab from the airport to his own condo, where he couldn't have done much more than dump his laundry for his cleaning lady and pick up some clean clothes before driving out to the house in his own car.
They had so little time to spend together in one place that Jeff didn't like the feeling of one more map showing how they were separated--this one diagramming cars traveling the highways of the greater LA area. He thought about the spare key he had attached to a paper clip in the top drawer of his desk downstairs but it didn't seem like the right time for that. Jensen was so on edge, waiting to hear about the fate of his show, and the last thing Jeff wanted to do was spook him when their relationship finally felt so comfortable.
The muffled ring of a phone interrupted Jeff's musings.
"It's mine." Jensen dropped his script pages and stood up. "Where the hell did I leave it?"
"In your pants, maybe? I threw them in the hamper."
Jensen had the lid off the hamper and his phone in his hands by the third ring. "Yeah?"
Jensen stood with his back to the bed, hiding his expression. The set of his shoulders was tense, muscles bunching under bare skin. "It's definite? They're not going to--"
Jeff held his breath, wishing he could see Jensen's face, get a clue to the news he was getting.
"Okay. Yeah, okay. Thanks." Jensen hung up and let his phone hand drop. Taking in and releasing a deep, noisy breath, he bent at the waist and let his upper body hang slack toward the floor.
"Jen?" Jeff stood up from the bed, ready to hold onto Jensen, whatever he needed, but when Jensen unfolded himself to stand straight again, he turned around with wide eyes and a grin on his face.
"We got renewed." His grin broke into a wide smile. "Third season, man!"
"Aw, babe, that's great!" Jeff stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jensen, squeezing tight until he could feel Jensen's heart beating strong against his own. Supernatural would have Jensen for another year, working like hell up in Vancouver for a network that would never appreciate what they had in him, but Jensen loved the work and Jeff was glad he wouldn't have it taken away from him before he was ready to move on.
Jeff backed off from the hug, stroking his hands over Jensen's sides as he pulled away. Jensen reached his hands up above his head and stretched, arching his back and twisting, and Jeff could see some of the tension drain out of his neck and shoulders.
"Oh, God, I just--" Jensen looked back at Jeff, and his grin had taken on an edge of heat. "This is a great morning." His hands on Jeff's chest were cool at first touch, but they trailed heat down toward Jeff's waist as he leaned in and kissed the rough edge of Jeff's jaw.
Jeff was so distracted by the sensation of Jensen's tongue drawing patterns in his stubble that he didn't realize the drawstring on his pants had been untied until he felt air on his ass, the cotton of Jensen's shorts against his balls and his rising cock.
"I want to ride you." Jensen's voice hummed against Jeff's skin.
"Don't have to twist my arm." Jeff hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Jensen's boxers and stepped backwards toward the bed. As Jensen followed, Jeff pulled the shorts down over the curve of his ass and cupped his hands over the revealed skin. The line of Jensen's cock pressed against his hip sent his own arousal higher, and he took one hand away from his lover's body to reach back to the bedside table and grope blindly for the bottle of lube.
Jensen's hands were firm on Jeff's chest and, when he smirked and gave a push, Jeff went with the motion -- letting his knees collapse and dump him down onto the mattress. He hooked his heels onto the bed frame and pushed himself back to lay across the big king-size bed.
Jensen's cock bobbed between his legs as he climbed up to kneel over Jeff, knees framing Jeff's thighs. Jensen took the bottle of oil from Jeff's hand. No more condoms, no more cool gel. The oil transmitted the warmth from Jensen's hand as he smoothed it along Jeff's length. Jeff hardened further, his whole body feeling like it wanted to rise up to meet Jensen's.
Jensen squeezed more oil onto his fingers and reached back, sliding them into his own ass. Jensen closed his eyes as he concentrated on opening himself up. That full lower lip trapped between white teeth, neck arched and long thighs flexing over Jeff's own.
When Jensen opened his eyes, Jeff saw passion and need and excitement, and he wished that he could have Jensen like that always. Their own private island of idleness and desire, and every day there would be nothing but good news on the telephone.
Jensen walked forward on his knees until his ass was aligned over Jeff's hips. Jeff felt that tight, slick pucker at the head of his cock, and then heat and pressure moved down over him. The future didn't matter then, jobs didn't matter, his goddamn expensive mattress was the island, and it was everything he needed. He raised his head as far as he could and pulled Jensen down for a rough, dirty kiss.
Jensen bit his lip, and the sharp sting of pain throbbed in Jeff's cock. Jensen sat up, pulling himself most of the way off Jeff's shaft and then slammed down again. Jeff pushed his hips up to meet Jensen's downward thrust, and they found their rhythm. Jeff wrapped his hand around Jensen's cock, and when he looked up, he saw Jensen's head thrown back, sweat beading up on his neck and chest, and a smile on his face.
Jeff worked Jensen fast and tight, the way he liked it, flicking his thumb around the underside of his head, and Jensen came, shouting out his pleasure and pumping himself faster on Jeff's cock. He slid his hands through the sweat gathered on Jeff's chest and scraped his thumbnails roughly against Jeff's nipples. Once, twice, and Jeff gasped, his hips jerking up-up-up into Jensen as he came.
~~~
That evening both of them dressed up in honest to god slacks and button-down shirts and they sat in a quiet corner of one of LA's more exclusive sushi restaurants sharing a tuna roll.
"Hey," Jeff started, swallowing down a bite of fish. "I've got some good news, too."
"Yeah?" Jensen looked up from his plate and the jade-colored table reflected up into his eyes, making them look greener than usual.
"I got this movie, The Watchmen, that starts filming in the fall, and--"
"Shit, man, that's great! Who are you playing?"
"Well, the Comedian."
Jensen broke out into a grin, his eyes crinkling deeply at the corners. "Comedian's a bad motherfucker. You're gonna lose your nice guy rep."
"Aw, I'm cryin'. But that's not the best part. Where do you think it's filming?"
"I don't know, Romania?"
"Smartass. I'll be up in Vancouver for about three or four months, off and on."
Jensen's mouth fell open, his face soft and hovering on the brink of a half dozen emotions for a moment until his lips pressed together into a smile that looked like it was holding back tears.
"Is that…bad?" Jeff's throat felt tight until he saw the happiness glowing in Jensen's eyes.
"No, it's good. Really, really good."
"That's pretty much what I thought." Jeff stuffed some more sushi in his mouth, relief stoking his hunger. He had wanted that role so damn much, and it wasn't because he was a huge fan of graphic novels. It sounded like a good role, a fun role, but he would have considered taking a role in Jared's cheesy Christmas movie if it had gotten him to Vancouver during Supernatural's filming season.
"Hey, you know, I'm sure they'll be getting you some swanky hotel rooms, but if--since we'll actually be in the same city for more than a week at a time, you know? If you want to stay at my townhouse some of the time or--" Jensen looked off to the side. "--all of the time. Well, I'd like that."
Jeff felt his jaw drop open and his heart pounded like it was trying to make an escape. He had that key sitting in his pocket, waiting for the right time, and the cheeky little bastard stole his thunder. Then again, if he was waiting for the right moment to smack him in the face, he figured he was feeling the heat from that smack right then. Jeff tilted in his seat until he could dig in his pocket for the key.
"Jeff? What're you--" Jensen looked nervous until Jeff smiled and held out his hand with his spare house key laying on his palm, an offering.
"Great minds think alike. I understand if you don't want to give up your condo altogether, but as much of your stuff as you want to move in, I'd love it if you did."
"Wow, Jeff, your house. I don't--"
"You don't have to. It's no pressure, okay?"
"No." Jensen cut a quick look around the room then looked back and caught Jeff's gaze with his own. He reached out to take Jeff's hand, pressing the key between them, warm and sharp. "I want to."