A Wish Your Heart Makes
Chapter 7.
Hello, loves. How are you? Sorry this took so long. I understand a lot of you have been waiting patiently for this and I thank you so all much for needling me and making me feel guilty for not updating regularly. I really do love you all and thank you for staying with me, despite the snail updates. Sorry if there are any blatant mistakes (Please tell me if you find any).
Warnings: Copious amounts of J2 cuddling, Language, ass-groping, drunken grinding, dirty prayers, mentions of rimming and light dirty talk. Unbeta'd
PLEASE SEE END OF CHAPTER FOR POLL INFORMATION THANK
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The Ackles' stayed overnight and Jared was out of spare rooms after his parents grabbed the last one, so Dean offered to give Josh his room—Well the one he was currently staying in. He had to remind himself that he didn't actually live in Jared's house. . .
Josh had tentatively offered to share and Dean hastily told him it was fine and he'd just camp on the couch tonight. The couch was comfy anyways, red leather and roomy. Dean really didn't mind and it was better to avoid the awkward situation of having to tell Josh that he wasn't comfortable like that with him. They were brothers and maybe if he tried it wouldn't be so bad, but Dean didn't really want to yet. He wasn't ready to accept that his brother wasn't really 6'4" with softer hair than any girl he'd known. Misha had already gone to bed, obviously avoiding Dean and that left a little self-satisfied warmth in his chest right alongside next to worry.
What if he'd freaked Misha out? He didn't think he was being that openly flirty yet. . . Obviously dudes didn't easily freak Misha out since they'd got off together easily enough that morning.
The house when he moved through it was dark and quiet. It seemed so much bigger than he knew it was, but thankfully it didn't seem so foreign anymore. He was starting to gain a sense for navigating it and it only took a moment before he found the stairwell again.
He took a blanket from the closet to the right of the stairs and went downstairs, finding Jared still chatting with Donna. She smiled up at him, standing and pulling him in for a hug, he returned it easily, already becoming addicted to the feel of her warmth around him like a giant blanket even though she was so small.
"Thank you so much for putting up with us today, Jensen. You're really taking all of this remarkably well." Dean smiled, genuinely.
"No really, the pleasure was mine. I-It's good to know that Jense-I have a good family." She, cupped his face and smiled lovingly before turning to Jared who was standing now and gave him a hug. She looked to be half his size and it was kind of adorable the way she nearly disappeared in his embrace.
"Goodnight, both of you. I expect you up early because breakfast is at 7 on the dot." Dean gave her a little wave before she disappeared upstairs. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Jared sat down on the couch and grinned.
"Congratulations! You survived the Ackles'. Feel better?"
"Y-Yeah they're good people. It's a little surreal though, seeing people that look like me when I've never met them before." Jared patted his leg, an important look spreading on his face.
"Come on, sit on Santa's lap and tell him about your woes." Dean raised an eyebrow at him.
"You're not serious." Jared looked at him sternly.
"Oh, I'm dead serious." Dean snorted, rolling his eyes, his face grinning beyond his control.
"I'm not gonna sit on your lap."
"You are." Before he knew it, Jared lurched at him, grabbing at his waist like a vice and he found himself hurtling forward onto the couch and into Jared's body in a very painful position. He shifted to at least get a little more comfortable and glared. Jared was wearing an infuriating smirk and Dean sighed, embarrassed at how easily he was apprehended, legs pinned firmly on each side of Jared's lap.
"Your bow legs make this very easy."
"Oh shut up. . ." As weird as the situation was, Dean didn't really feel that weird about it. He could honestly say he'd never straddled anybody but Cas before—Which had been a lot of fun, mind you—But part of him that Dean realized wasn't entirely Dean wanted so badly just to curl up into Jared's warmth and fall asleep. "What is it with you guys and stuff like this." He yawned, already feeling Jared's warmth seep into him. It was way too fucking cozy on Jared's lap and he willed with all his might the awkwardness to come back because without it, it was freaky and Dean didn't like being so touchy with men and even less being comfortable with it.
"Stuff like what?"
"This." He gestured vaguely to their position on the couch. "Touching and stuff. . . It's pretty gay isn't it?"
"If you tell yourself it is, then sure. But I don't have any urges to have sex with you, so it's not weird for me." Dean bit his cheek as his anxiety spiked from his next thought.
"If my dad—If John ever saw me like this, I wouldn't get off with just a scolding." John wouldn't have understood platonic cuddling between two guy friends. Even Dean was having a hard time understanding it, for Christ's sake.
"Right but we live in a society where we're no longer ruled by heterosexual machismo. If I want to cuddle, I cuddle. I don't discriminate by gender." Dean rolled his eyes, relaxing a fraction on the tall man's legs.
"Look, I'm not exactly the poster boy for heterosexuality." Anymore, he reminded himself. He used to be pretty macho back in the day. "I just don't see how it's so easy for you to think like that. I have a very clear sense of what's manly and what's not." He looked at his position on his lap. "This is not manly."
"But you still have a penis so there's no real consequence here. You're telling me you never cuddled with Cas?" Dean blushed, balling his fists because he didn't know what else to do with his hands.
"Well we did. A lot, actually,but privately. . . For some reason I get the feeling that you would do this with me in a room full of people." Jared grinned
"I would, but that's just because everyone knows how close we are." Jared thought for a bit, throwing his head back on the couch and smiling. "When I first met Jensen he kind of felt the same as you do, hell even I felt that way but it was so easy to be around him and it was fun to draw him out of his bubble. We got so used to hanging all over each other that once there was a week during filming that Jensen demanded I piggy-back him everywhere." Dean smiled at that, almost happy that Jensen had someone that helped him out of his shell because underlying Dean didn't really have a lot of that in his life. Dean wasn't sure he could be that carefree, but he would try to be a little more open minded. Jared laughed. "Dude, he is such a princess. One time we had to stop the shoot because he wouldn't shoot until he got a nap with me cuddled up with him on bobby's couch."
"He would smack you if he knew you were talking about him like this."
"How would you know?" Jared said, amused.
"Because I just. . ." Jared grinned wide, clapping him on the shoulder.
"You know him. . . Dude this is great! We're actually getting somewhere. Seriously how did you know? Did you remember something?" Suddenly Dean felt a little exposed, not quite sure when he started knowing Jensen.
"I-It's not a memory or anything. It's more like an automatic response? It's weird 'cause it conflicts with my automatic response so I know it's not mine." He sighed, scratching his head trying to find a better way to explain. "There are only two people that have ever lived in this head so I'm sure it's Jensen. I'm starting to separate what reactions are mine and what ones are his." Dean leaned forward, resting half of his face on Jared's shoulder. "This is him now, and I'm just letting it happen even though it's weird to me, it comforts him and that's good enough I guess." Jared laughed, a rich sound that Dean could feel. He breathed in deeply, feeling his muscles loosen up when Jared wrapped his arms around his back. "I can tell you guys are really tight. You comfort him."
"Now that is pretty gay. Tell Jensen I'm a married man." Dean didn't even hold back this time and smacked Jared in the forehead.
"Shh. You're ruining it." He admonished. Dean couldn't explain why, but even he was happy right now. Being held by Jared was actually kind of fucking nice. He hadn't cuddled with Sam like this since they were little. They did it on the nights when Dad didn't come home but it stopped once they reached the age that they started having more interesting dreams about girls and the like and mornings became a problem. They never had moments like that again and Dean wished they never stopped. What was an awkward boner or two anyways? "It's weird having a brother I've never known." He spoke aloud, not knowing why the words fell so easily around Jared.
"I can imagine that's frustrating. Probably like the first time you met Adam." Dean screwed up his face, the bitterness and guilt rising at that name.
"Oh don't get me started on that." Dean circled his arms around Jared's back. "No, I'm pretty sure you're my brother. Even though you're not related by blood, you're still Sam to me and that's what matters. Can't I trade Josh for you?" Jared laughed, his voice echoing in the large, darkened room.
"Now, now. Don't be mean. Josh is a really nice guy. You just need to get to know him."
"I don't wanna."
"Whining will get you nowhere." Dean made no comment. He didn't care if he was acting like a child. Right now he didn't feel like being an adult.
"I don't know, Cas always let me get my way."
"Well, all you had to do was bat your pretty green eyes at him and the guy would get a chunk of the moon for you."
"Pretty much." He grinned into Jared's shoulder, relaxing at the thought of Cas and how much Cas loved making him happy. "He always tried to spoil me, telling me I never did nice things for myself, so he would do them for me. One time he tried making a pie and that was the most hilarious shit ever. Imagine Cas covered in flour with a blackened pie sitting on the counter." He laughed, biting his lip, his heart swelling with that warmth he tried never put a name to. He could now, though. "To know I had someone that loved me that much. . . Me!" He looked up at Jared because he had to understand the gravity of the situation. "Can you even believe that?"
"Yeah. You're a great man, Dean. Why wouldn't Cas fall in love with you? You might be kind of a dick sometimes, but that angel is tough. He's probably the only one that can handle that hot-headedness of yours." Dean pouted, but he couldn't help but smile at the same time, sinking back into Jared's embrace and sighing contently.
"You're probably right."
"You are so in love with him! Seeing Dean like this is making me very uncomfortable." Dean bit his lip, for once denying it didn't even cross his mind.
"I know. . . But you probably know what it's like. Even though I don't understand it, you love Ruby." He could almost hear Jared rolling his eyes.
"Genevieve. She's nothing like Ruby in real life, Dean. She's sweet and caring and probably the most selfless person I've ever met." Dean let his eyes slip closed, basking in Jared's warmth and not giving a shit that he was cuddled up to another dude for the first time ever (Cas didn't really count).
"How did you know?" Jared threw his head back, and Dean could feel his muscles relax as he searched for words to put to his memories.
"Usually when I'm playing someone's boyfriend on-screen, it takes a lot of effort to make it seem like I love that person. With Gen it was so natural. . . I actually had to tone it down when she was Ruby because apparently I couldn't stop making doe-eyes at her. I didn't even really know her that well but our chemistry was something you only find in the cheesiest romantic comedies and I realized that I couldn't ignore that." Dean snorted, wrapping even more tightly around Jared.
"That really is the cheesiest thing I've ever heard."
"Well not as cheesy as yours and Cas's 'profound bond'. Seriously falling in love with your guardian angel? Do you know how cliché that is?" Dean rolled his eyes.
"How many people can say that their boyfriend literally pulled them out of hell?" Jared considered this for a moment and Dean smirked. "Cas is awesome and for some reason he puts up with my shit. That's all I need."
Jared chuckled and patted his back. "Such a way with words. Come on, I'm thirsty and my legs are falling asleep." Dean huffed indignantly.
"Are you calling me fat?"
"Yes. Now get up."
"No." Jared huffed, irritably.
"Well I wasn't expecting this. Dean Winchester: Expert supernatural hunter and needy cuddle slut." Dean snorted, burying his face in shame.
"Fuck off. This is all Jensen. I'm just not denying it because I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be making progress and I really see no downside, here. You are comfortable." Of course this wasn't just Jensen. Dean was a big fan of cuddling even if Cas was the only one who knew that. Jared would find out soon enough but he would like to keep up appearances as long as possible.
He wasn't expecting Jared to fold his hands under his ass and just start standing up, regardless of whether Dean was on him or not. Jared was able to lift him like he was nothing. Dean tightened his grip around Jared's neck as the tall man made his way to the kitchen.
"Dude, what the hell?! Put me down."
"You had your chance and abandoned it. Look at the position you put me in. You're just as much of a princess as Jen." Jared opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a jug of orange juice.
"You started this! And I am not a princess."
"No, more like a baby koala." So much for keeping up appearances. . .
"You totally just wanted to grab my ass!" Jared opened the cap and took a giant swig of it. Dean made a face at him. "Ew, dude! Use a cup." Jared put the orange juice back, his face remaining impassive.
"It's my house and the rule is no cups when drinking orange juice. As far as your ass, well, It is a fantastic one." Jared gave an experimental squeeze, making Dean blush. "Like art, really. Cas is one lucky angel."
Dean sputtered. "S-Shut up. . ."
"Am I interrupting something?" Dean's face burned because Misha was standing at the door, smirk plastered on his face as he watched the scene before him. Dean scrambled, trying to escape but Jared just held tighter.
"Just admiring the beauty that is Jensen Ackles' rear." Excitement lit up on Misha's face.
"Oh are we doing that again?" Again?! Misha pranced over stopping in front of Jared and soon Dean felt much colder hands fondle his ass and he blushed even more hotly because Misha was groping his ass.
The man squeezed firmly and calculatingly through his jeans, hands never leaving even as he started speaking again. Dean flushed hotly in embarrassment, his personal bubble never being breached so thoroughly.
"On a scale from one to Ryan Gosling, I give this particular posterior an 8.5"
"Only 8.5?!" Dean complained, glaring at Misha from behind. He was pretty sure his ass was one of his more redeeming qualities and worth way more than an 8.5 on the Gosling scale.
"Well I don't know everything about it yet, so I can't score fairly." Dean flushed at the implication of the words. Yet.
"Oh my god. . ." Dean was mortified, because normal people didn't just talk like that, did they? Misha was grinning from ear to ear. Jared looked mildly confused.
"What else is there to kno—" Jared started before stopping and cracking up laughing. Yet. . .
If Misha were to do a thorough scoring, how would he do it?
He'd have to take off Dean's pants. . . He'd definitely need to take off his boxers too and what. . . spread his cheeks and have a proper look? Cas had said his hole was a rosy pinkish purple color and he had some freckles down there and. . . Where would that lie on the scoring system? Would it bring his score up or down? Maybe Misha would have to investigate further by putting his fingers inside to test how tight it is or maybe he'd have to taste it—
—Dick Roman in a bikini, Dick Roman kissing him, Dick Roman kissing Sam. He did not need to pop a woody while wrapped around Jared Padalecki. That would be a whole 'nother world of awkward and even Jared wouldn't be able to deny the awkwardness of it. No, he needed to control himself never mind the fact that he kinda liked the thought of Misha's tongue buried in his ass, wet and hot—
—Dick Roman frenching Cas. . . Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"O-Kay, you perverts, molesting Dean time is officially over. I'm going to bed now goodnight." He extricated himself from Jared and proceeded to flop face down on the couch, trying to conceal any problems that had the potential to proverbially arise. He wrapped the blanket tightly around his form and burrowed his way into the soft leather, hoping it would just swallow him.
Jared and Misha both left saying goodnights and Dean was alone.
Misha hadn't said anything about the happenings of earlier and what the hell, did he not hear anything Jared and Dean had talked about? Dean probably came off as the most hetero man's man on the show so far and he was pretty sure he'd outed himself in multiple ways since morning and Misha had no questions at all for him? It was weird. Fuckin' weird and he didn't understand Misha at all.
He turned on his back, staring up at the dark ceiling and wondering what it was going to take to figure that man out. Everything Misha did just added one more piece to the puzzle and Dean was quickly losing ground.
Luckily the sofa was comfortable enough that he didn't have to worry about it for too much longer before sleep took all of his problems away.
::
Breakfast in the morning came as early as promised, and Donna took absolutely none of Dean's shit when he'd told her he'd eat later. She grabbed his ear painfully, reminding him a lot of Ellen—literally dragging him off the couch and into the kitchen saying she hadn't spent the morning on breakfast so he could sleep through it.
He hadn't been allowed to sit down until he washed up, cleaning under his nails too because Donna would have none of that at her table and Dean wouldn't even dream of reminding her that it was Jared's table lest she end up throwing him over her knee and he didn't doubt the woman would fuckin' do it.
He sat down and waited patiently for the rest of the house to come down, lured to the table by the smell of a home-cooked meal. Misha was as mute as ever, unable to function in the morning until he had a good amount of food and/or coffee in his system. Jared was just happy to eat anything and everything he could reach.
Dean hadn't noticed how subdued his eating habits had become since he wound up here. Maybe he wasn't nearly as voracious as Jared Padalecki, but Dean Winchester could appreciate good food and was always one of the first ones done.
Now, it seemed, he took a lot more time with his meals, slowly chewing each bite and allowing the flavor to soak in thoroughly. His anxiety spiked a little as he watched Alan and Josh eat at the same leisurely pace and he realized this was Jensen's way of eating. It was a habit combined with muscle memory, so Dean didn't really have much of a choice here and he decided perhaps this wouldn't be such a bad habit to have, anyways. Sam had always scolded him for scarfing down his food, saying it was bad for digestion or some hippy crap like that.
Alan spoke then, catching Dean off-guard. "Jared tells me you've decided to continue acting, Jensen. Eager to get back in the game? It must be a bit daunting since you don't remember any of your acting career."
"Y-Yeah I think it would be good to just take it on. I guess Supernatural is a big part of my life, and quitting now would mean Jensen taking a hit to his career." Dean bit his lip, remembering to stop using so much third person when talking. You're Jensen. Be Jensen! "I don't know much about my life, but I know I wouldn't go down without fighting, even if I thoroughly sucked at acting it would have been better than doing nothing. We tried it and these guys think I'm not half bad so I'm gonna keep doing it." Alan grinned, nodding.
"Well good on you, Jensen. I'm happy to see your determination wasn't lost in the accident." Alan called him Jensen. Most of the family and friends seemed to call him Jen or Jens most of the time, but this man called him Jensen always. Dean supposed a parent would want to call their kid by their given name since they were the one to pick it. It was weird having people shorten his name. He was always used to his one syllable name that couldn't really be shortened. Was it really that hard to say two syllables anyways? Jensen was a lot manlier than Jen! He almost wanted to hug the man for saying it properly.
Okay, not almost. Down Jensen, I ain't ready for daddy hugs yet.
Shortly after breakfast, and another Ackles' sandwich, Jensen's—his family left to go check in at their hotel. Rachel called asking if she could meet with them so she could figure out their current situation. The network was wary about letting Jensen act because his mind wasn't one-hundred percent where it needed to be, so she had to write up a report saying he was fit to act. Dean rolled his eyes, resigning himself to a day full of bullshit. Really, he was kind of nervous.
This was his manager. She was the person who decided what Jensen even did with his life. She was an influential figure who had a lot of pull with the producers and his career was literally on the line with this meeting. He had little to no time to prepare and he'd better not fuck this up.
Dean couldn't just be a hunter if this acting thing didn't work out. This was all he apparently knew. other than douchey modeling jobs and working at Bobby's salvage, and he was pretty sure he needed more than that and excellent blow jobs to put on a resume to find a suitable job.
::
Rachel was small.
She looked to be about half the size of Jared and she wore just shy of too much makeup. Her hair was reddish brown and done in what must have been what they call a manicured 'messy bun', only it was just too shiny. She had on a blue pencil skirt and suit jacket with a neon green blouse underneath and her smile was so wide when she saw him. Dean thought he might be blinded by the whiteness of her teeth.
"Oh you look so much better now, sweetheart. I was so worried when they had you hooked up to all those IVs in the hospital." She fussed over him for a bit, pulling his face down to her level to peck a kiss on his cheek.
She sat down at the couch and Jared brought coffee and some brownies that literally came from nowhere. How Jared always managed to have sweets, Dean would never know.
Rachel dug into her satchel and pulled out a giant stack of papers and files and Dean blanched. This was Jensen's entire career, all stuffed in a little bag. He winced when the stack overbalanced, some papers falling to the floor as though signifying how everything in his life had fallen apart. It wasn't better when she picked the papers up and stuffed them back in all the papers at odds with each other.
"Let's not drag this out longer than it has to be, I'm sure you have better things you would rather be doing than going through technicalities with little ol' me." She rifled through the stack and pulled out a notebook, taking a pen from her pocket. "Now would you be so kind as to tell me what you remember?" Dean spoke to her honestly, telling her he only remembered Supernatural and some of the actors and crew. He was careful not to tell her that his current personality was Dean Winchester, but he gave her as much as he could
She wrote diligently, nodding every once in a while to urge him on. After he was done speaking it was only a minute before she put the notebook down.
"Well I'm not going to sugarcoat it, its bare minimum here, Jen. The CW wants the show to go on, but this is pushing it. You remember the show and that's about it. I don't know if that's going to be enough for them, hon." Dean ground his teeth his hands turning into fists.
"Rachel, I need this. Like you said, Supernatural isn't enough, so what else would I do? I can't act for another show. I know nothing about modeling and all that and I have no other technical training. Misha and Jared say I got the stuff it takes to be an actor and I know the plot of Supernatural. Isn't that enough?" She sighed, fingers running through her hair.
"Technically, but the ratings team at the network aren't going to like hearing that a recovering trauma patient with limited memory is going to be starring in one of their top dramas. Jensen, really my hands are tied here." She said, looking for all the world regretful at the situation.
"But isn't there something we can do to pacify them? Seriously, it's not like I'm flyin' blind here." She thought seriously for a moment before speaking again.
"I might be able to swing it, but you'll have to agree to work with an acting coach."
"I already have—"
"A certified acting coach. He or she will give the CW reports of your progress and you won't be allowed to film the series until the coach and the network deem you capable." She sighed, looking at him seriously. "Jensen, we need hardcore proof that you can function as an actor. This is crucial to securing your spot here. I need you to be on board with this or they're going to put the series on hiatus until you're fit to act again." He clenched his fists harder but slowly nodded in concession.
"I understand."
"Good." She smiled, softly, almost apologetically. "Now, just because you're acting is put on hold, doesn't mean we can cancel your schedule for the rest of the year. I'm going to go over the various things we have going on in the next few months. If Jensen can be trusted, your schedule should be all in your phone, but I'll go over it with you anyways."
She pulled out a sheet that seemed to have a bunch of dates on it.
"its convention season and we've already got through Comicon, JIBcon and Vancon, we just need to get through J2UK and we're home-free."
"What's a J2UK?" He asked, shaking his head. She grinned.
"J2UK? Jensen and Jared, United Kingdom. . . It's not as stupid as it sounds." Dean rolled his eyes as she explained conventions in detail. He'd been to one. . . kind of, back then. It was for the books Chuck had written and there was all sorts of crazy crap—Roleplaying and the like, fans dressing up like them everywhere and pretending to be hunters. Apparently the TV show was a lot more popular than those books, though. They frequently did international conventions and J2UK was going to be in London of all places. There would be more people than Dean had ever seen gathered in one place and all sorts of people touching him and taking pictures and autograph sessions. It was going to be crazy and Dean suddenly felt nauseas. Dean was no celebrity. . . How would he get through the next few months?
"J2UK won't be happening until after we air. We'll be well into filming by then assuming everything goes smoothly. You are still planning on shooting on time right?" He nodded, swallowing his nerves.
"Yeah."
"Okay. I have my work cut out for me, but I do understand how important this is. Acting is Jensen's life and he would do anything for this show. I know he'd want to film if at all possible so I want to make this happen for you, okay?" She looked sincere and Dean felt grateful he had somebody batting so hard for him here.
"I really do appreciate this, Rachel. Jensen really knows how to pick his team." She grinned up at him, standing up and shaking his hand firmly.
"Now if only he would stop avoiding my calls. . ." Dean swallowed guiltily, the few times she'd called had been pushed to the back of his mind and now brought to light. It wasn't Dean's fault he was a problem avoider! They wrote him that way, after all.
"Right, well, let me know what the big guys say soon, okay?"
"You'll know when I know, sweetheart."
She hugged him tightly, wishing him well before departing and Dean smiled. He was surrounded by so many people who cared about him it was crazy. He'd only ever had a few people he could really count on in his life, and while that was all the support he'd needed, well now he realized that it was kind of like fighting a bear with a dagger when it'd be so much easier to have a 9mm in his pocket.
::
Acting that day was more technical than anything and Dean suddenly felt like he was in school. Jared and Misha took on a very serious tone when he'd told them he was going to be audited by an acting coach.
When Jared took out his phone and stared recording, the nervousness started to surface.
It wasn't that he wasn't confident he could do this, but he wasn't confident he could do it as well as Jensen. What if when he looked at the playback he saw that Jensen Ackles played himself better than he did?
It was an emotional scene and they brought out the fake knives as they re-enacted the first time Dean met Cas.
Misha graveled out his lines flawlessly, sending chills up Dean's spine as the ex-hunter tried studiously to ignore the camera, fake-stabbing Misha in the chest. He looked up into those intense blue eyes that bore into him like he was looking into Dean's very soul and he was brought back. Back to that fear, the excitement, the intensity. He remembered hearing the blood pumping violently against his eardrums, his heart pounding in his chest when he realized this was a monster he had no experience with—Not one hope to defeat. This was an angel, a goddamn holy angel of the freakin' Lord and way above his pay grade. He didn't even notice Jared's camera in his face as he stared in wonder at the being before him.
He swallowed thickly, feeling that fear again when he remembered hearing Cas's true-voice for the first time and how it almost collapsed his ear drums.
When Jared yelled cut with a giant grin on his face, Dean stumbled back, coming out of that place and back into what was allegedly the 'real world'. Jared plugged the phone into his big TV and Dean could feel his heart pounding in his chest when he saw his face on screen.
On screen, he could see himself shaking like a damn whore in church as he realized that Jared was filming. He looked like he'd just swallowed a fucking lung or something—Breathe Dean, for Christ's sake it's just a camera. . .
But then, as Misha started talking, his eyes blue and intense, Dean could see himself visibly relax and he tried not to blush at how obvious it was, but he couldn't help it. Dean fell into his lines, his voice still a bit shaky but clearing up as he grew more confident. He could almost see his face flash in recognition at the situation, recalling the feelings from before and using that as a catalyst and even Dean had to admit how eerie it was seeing himself slip into acting mode so abruptly.
Jared paused the recording.
"This here?" Jared gestured to the screen. Dean barely remembered to close his mouth before the man began to speak again. "This is where you find your headspace, Dean. It's visible how clearly you can remember the experience and suddenly the scene goes flawlessly." He presses play again and Dean stares in wonder at the emotion on his face, the fear and the wariness of Castiel's appearance. It sends chills up his spine because it almost seems too flawless. It was too real and he was sure it couldn't be him up there. That was Jensen. It had to be. . . But it wasn't, because Jensen hadn't done the episode like that.
He remembered watching it and Jensen hadn't. . . It wasn't like that. Jensen was taking himself and becoming something completely different, and Dean Winchester was born. When Dean did the scene, it was just another day in his life.
"It's too real." He heard himself say quietly. Jared looked at him, interest spiking.
"What?"
"This. It's too much. This isn't how real acting is." He sat down, burying his face in his hands because fuck. He was never going to get this. It wasn't going to work. "I'm cheating. I'm using my experience and I'm not going to always have that, am I? When I get possessed by a monster or a demon or some other shit that fucks with my mind, I'm not going to have a clue how to do this. I need to learn how to do this without the Dean Winchester handicap." Jared raised his eyebrow in surprised.
"You're right. I'm impressed you could see that." He walked back to the TV, taking his phone back from it before sitting next to Dean on the couch.
"The coach isn't going to let you read lines from Supernatural when he gauges your acting skill." Jared turned seriously to Dean. "He's going to give you a script, you'll be expected to memorize it and execute it in that character." Misha sighed, folding his arms behind his head and laying back into the couch, his voice hard and more serious than Dean had ever heard it.
"As it is, you're simply being yourself and remembering the things you said. It's impressive, but it's not what the coach is going to be looking for." Misha turned to look at him, catching his gaze and holding it. "The CW is going to be measuring your worth as an actor and, while it's a tough thing to say, right now we don't know if you'll cut it." Dean swallowed thickly, the panic gripping his stomach like a vice.
He couldn't do this, not by himself. He had no idea how to be an actor and he was going to ruin this. He was going to fuck it up and Jensen was going to be canned. It was pathetic, the only thing Dean knew he could do in this fucked up universe and he was going to fuck it up before he even started it.
But there was Jared and Misha. . . They were his. . . well Jensen's friends. They were kind to him and they helped him and Dean hated to sound like a baby here but. . . Well, hadn't Jared said that they would always back him up? This was his life and he wasn't about to just give up. He had options here and even he wasn't dumb enough not to see that.
His voice was tight when he spoke, like it was taking everything in the world to swallow his pride and just get the words out that he rarely ever said. "You guys, I need your help.
::
The rest of the afternoon they spent going over random screenplays and doing some basic character analysis. Dean was told that, to act effectively, he needed to get into a character's head and empathize with it to the point where it related to him on an emotional level. They spent hours reading into all of these skits and drawing characterization based on dialogue.
They spent a whole hour talking about a character named Nancy Baker and imagining her life based on the words that she used:
Nancy: I have no intention of sending that boy back to that school, Jacob. I knew I should have homeschooled him from the start. Jesus would be turning in his grave if he knew what he did; Seducing Mr. Jacobs like that. Maybe I should have remarried before I went to that orphanage. Ain't nothin' but mistakes and regret come from a place like that.
Dean had hated her from the start, not wanting to try and empathize with such a bigoted woman, but Jared insisted it was crucial—especially in a situation like this, or nobody would ever be able to play her character.
They derived an entire backstory for her first, how she must have grown up on a farm, kept in the house, doing the laundry and cooking with their Momma while her brother John worked with their Pa. Her sisters Mary and Caitlyn played with their dollies and, though she wanted to play too, her mother had insisted that she was an adult now and big girls didn't play with dolls.
Nancy loved dolls. Nancy made dresses for them, sometimes dresses that her Ma would never let her wear; Something about the devil being tempted by flesh and possessing men to take a woman by force should she tempt him like that. She'd end up ruined for marriage and she'd be alone the rest of her life.
She was whipped when Momma found the dress she'd made for herself—One she'd promised God she would never wear. She'd just wanted to admire it, but Momma told her lust would turn into sin and she wouldn't tolerate that in her house.
Nancy Baker didn't make dresses ever again.
Suddenly Dean understood her character so much more. It made sense and it was easy to see how she became this way. He could feel her anger and regret, how easy it was to be bitter towards others that exhibited similar behavior. She knew the devil was in them and it was shameful that nobody corrected them sooner.
She was so much better than them. . .
Suddenly he felt sick, her anger and hate gripping him tightly and Jared pulled him back, patting him on the shoulder and laughing.
"Crazy, isn't it?" Dean didn't know quite what he was referring to, how easy it was to think like a hateful bitch, or how difficult it was to separate himself from that persona. Misha sat down next to him, serious look on his face.
"Some roles can really fuck with your head if you aren't careful about it. I'm still convinced that Heath Ledger was destroyed by playing the Joker. He did it flawlessly and they say it messed with him so much he couldn't take it. You have to know when to take a step back and become yourself again.".
"Jensen sometimes struggles with that. . ." Jared's voice was slow as he connected his gaze with Misha. Both men were silent and Dean looked between them as it seemed like they were sharing something he wasn't a part of and he got the distinct feeling you get when someone's talking shit behind your back.
"How about we wrap this up and get some dinner." He suggested, not liking the serious atmosphere the afternoon had taken on.
::
A few boxes of Chinese takeout later and Jared's laptop was on Dean's lap as he sat looking up various gag reels so he could see Jensen's transition from Jensen to Dean more in detail. He deduced that work never actually got done during filming and Jensen was a complete terrorist, always instigating the giggles and was altogether a really bad influence. He was just as bad, if not worse than Jared at being a distraction and this was one defining personality trait that Dean couldn't identify with.
He decided that later, maybe tomorrow he'd try to draw up a characterization for Jensen and see what he could do with that concerning acting and if Jared and Misha would buy it.
He found himself on YouTube eventually—everybody usually did when it came to the internet—looking up more conventions and interviews and learning more about what was quickly becoming his crazy life.
It was weird watching himself on stages that he didn't remember being on, giving interviews he'd never given. Jensen really wasn't all too different from him. The weirdest thing was watching these things and already kind of knowing the responses Jensen would give. That only proved further that Dean was really actually Jensen and it was really freakin' weird. He felt like some sort of clairvoyant and that was one word he never thought he'd be able to apply to himself.
He'd watched a panel that was at some sort of convention. He couldn't believe all of the things Jensen did there in front of a crowd of people. It was all done with such confidence and charisma that Dean couldn't imagine having in front of so many people. And Misha! The way they played together without a care in the world just brought home how closed off Dean really was. He couldn't imagine ever touching a man so openly, let alone give kisses and receive them without freaking out.
This was it. This was the man behind his character. This man had taken a piece of paper and literally gave Dean life and it was so surreal watching him use his body to do all these silly things.
And then there was the dancing. . .
Misha had challenged Jensen into something as a resume-off—They listed all the ridiculous things found on their resumes. Dean laughed as Jensen proved his dancing skills and he wasn't sure whether to be impressed or embarrassed by how well the man used their hips. Dean could dance, but it wasn't like that. . . Or was it?
He stood up, searching his phone for music and Dean grimaced as he was met with an onslaught of country. There were a few good tunes there, very few of the classic rock he liked but he managed to find a couple songs to dance to. He chose Somethin' 'bout a truck by Kip Moore and the beat sank into him and he found that he didn't mind it so much, he even kind of liked it and that was frightening. His foot started tapping, and in no time he started to rotate his hips to the beat. Muscle memory must have had its limits, because he felt completely ridiculous. He was about to stop when he heard a throat clearing itself. He jumped, his heart leaping with him and getting stuck somewhere in his throat.
"Auditioning for Dancing With the Stars already?" Misha was behind him wearing a shit-eating grin and Dean flipped him off, red-faced and embarrassed to beat all hell. The man chuckled and walked over to sit down on the couch, picking up Dean's phone (Jensen's phone) and looking at it.
"Jensen is rather fond of Country music, isn't he? It must frustrate you."
"Weirdly enough, it doesn't. It would on a regular basis but it's like it's ingrained in this dude's soul or something." He crossed his arms, sitting on the couch a good two feet away from Misha. He felt exposed and he hated that feeling.
"Jared told me you were doing some soul-separating." Misha grinned, sitting next to him. "That's great, Dean. At least now you're aware of Jensen." Dean rolled his eyes, slouching against the back of the couch.
"Yeah, now if only the dude would get over his mensies and drive his own damn body, that'd be great." Misha raised an eyebrow in amusement.
"You really think he's emotionally repressed himself?" Dean ground his teeth, looking at the oak coffee table as he spoke.
"Yeah. . . I mean there's a lot of screwed up crap in his life. I wouldn't want to deal with it either." Misha furrowed his brow, looking confused. Shit.
"What do you mean, screwed up?" Dean bit his lip, looking away.
"N-Nothing, I mean. . . There's a lot of drama with his girlfriend and it's gotta be difficult to come back to." Not a lie. . . just a diversion! He couldn't tell Misha he suspected Jensen might be gay and that Misha had a giant crush on him. Speaking of. . . Perhaps he shouldn't be so distant. He needed to gauge the man's reactions, not avoid them. He leaned over, grabbing his bottle of water and sitting back down marginally closer to Misha.
"Girlfriend drama is tough." Misha said, conversationally.
"You know all about it huh?" Dean laughed, watching Misha closely for reactions. If he wasn't used to staring contests with Cas, he might not have noticed the darkness flickering in that flawless mask the man wore all the time.
"I wouldn't claim to be an expert, but I know enough to get by." Misha said evasively, offering nothing more than that and it frustrated Dean. He pressed further.
"So you seeing anyone?"
"Not at the moment." Okay. Single. And no more information offered. Dean felt his anxiety rise just a little bit because it was becoming more and more possible that Misha liked him. He needed to get the elephant out of the room.
"You into dudes, then?" Misha laughed.
"I don't know if that's a compliment or an insult. Am I so good looking that the only reason I can't be seeing someone is because I was gay?" Dean blushed, choking on his water slightly when he realized that gay accusation wasn't really the best follow up question to Misha's response.
"N-No I meant. . . earlier with the thing and then this." He wiped at the makeup on his neck, hopefully revealing the dark bruise that Misha had left on him. Misha sighed, closing his eyes.
"I'm going to need something stronger than water if we're going to talk about this." Misha got up rifling in a cupboard next to the stereo system in the corner of the room before pulling out a bottle of Jack and Dean grinned.
"That's what I'm talking about!" He said excitedly, taking a shot glass eagerly after Misha filled it to the top.
"Big, gay freak-outs are best handled with whiskey." Misha in a very matter-of-factly tone. Dean grinned. Was that confession?
"Don't I know it." He responded, tipping his glass into his mouth and letting the whiskey burn down his throat. Misha snapped his gaze sharply at Dean at that. Dean felt his ears pinking slightly, but he kept his cool. It wasn't an accident that he said that. He was going to have to tell Misha eventually and now would be the best time to do it. He avoided the blue gaze as steadfastly as possible. "Me and Cas. . . yeah it's a thing." He could almost hear Misha's brows shoot up.
"Are you fucking serious?" Dean knew the gravity of this announcement. This was Misha's character he was talking about. Misha's character was going to find himself in a homosexual relationship with one of the main characters of the show and his status of the show would be completely different now. If he wasn't a star of the show before, he surely would be now.
"Y-Yeah it's pretty serious." He saw out of the corner of his eye Misha down his shot in one gulp, rubbing his hands over his face.
"And what we did? And then everything. . ." He gestured vaguely to his face and Dean felt his heart clench because yeah seeing his lover's face every day and knowing it wasn't really him, wasn't ever going to be him kind of sucked. Kind of really sucked. He bit his lip, gaze cast downward.
"It's been hard, yeah. I'm sorry I freaked out but it was just too much. . . And then you laughed and I. . . I thought you already knew and I was so pissed." Dean busied himself, pouring them another glass, avoiding Misha's concerned, pitiful gaze.
"Dean. . . My God, Dean I don't even know what to say. How do you even look at me?" Dean looked then, seeing the sadness and regret in his eyes and he laughed nervously.
"What has your panties all twisted? You know nothing about me and Cas."
"If it was going in the way I'd hoped it would go, then I know you've always been head over heels for that angel." Misha emptied his glass once more, scrunching up his face at the taste.
"You too? Seriously? Why does everybody think I'm gay?!" Dean did the same. "Look, it was hard seeing your face—You and Jared both but I'm used to it now. . . Besides I'd rather see his face than not see it. What we had is something I won't soon forget." He bit down his sadness, not wanting to go there tonight.
"I knew you were still a better love story than Twilight. Gonna be a shock to the fanbase to find out Dean's really into men though." Misha winked before pouring himself and Dean another shot. Dean took it gratefully and knocked it back. He felt the tension leave his shoulders and his mind get pleasantly fuzzy with the alcohol in his system.
"A man. Singular. Besides, you're one to talk. It doesn't get much gayer getting off rubbing your dick against another dick." Misha downed his drink, wiping the bit that missed his mouth.
"It was surprising how easy it was." Misha looked at him in a lingering way before turning his hazy gaze back to his empty glass, as though the answers to all his questions might be hidden in there somewhere.
"Right? You go your entire life with nothin' but tits and then the moment a sexy angel has you pinned against the wall you lose your shit and come harder than. . . than. . ." The booze was already loosening his lips, deleting his English and he supposed he should slow down after that. Misha chuckled, pouring himself another drink. Just how high was this guy's tolerance anyways? He wasn't even slurring his words.
"Is that how it happened? I've always imagined Castiel had a pinning-Dean-against-walls fetish."
"Oh he does. . . amongst other thin's." He blushed, closing his eyes as he remembered a number of Castiel's kinks. "He loved it when I prayed dirty to 'im." Misha clapped his knee, giggling and bumping Dean's shoulder.
"Did they seriously write that in the script?"
"How should I know? Issonly what I remember so I'm asshuming they did. Some of the thin's I'd pray to 'im though, don' know how they'd let that on tel'vision. . ." Misha froze and Dean looked over to see his face red and, maybe it was the whiskey, but Dean wondered if Misha was imagining all the filthy things Dean would say:
Cas. . . I need you. I'm so hard but I don't wanna get off without your dick inside of me.
Want it fast and rough. Want you to pin me down to the bed and fuck me stupid. I bet you like hearing me beg for it, don't you?
Bet your cock is hard thinking about my hole all stretched and slicked up already just for you—
Dean bit his lip thinking how little control Cas would have when he'd finally appear. Dean wouldn't walk straight for days—and the bruises!
He vaguely noticed his jeans getting tight. . . Damn, obviously he wasn't drunk enough to put a hamper on that. Misha was looking now and that piqued Dean's interest. He shifted, making it obvious that he was uncomfortably hard and failing at trying to hide it. He saw Misha swallow before looking away. Dean grinned, pouring another drink and sipping it slowly, letting a bit drip down his lips, watching Misha the whole time.
He felt it roll down his neck and Misha was watching again, blue eyes dark with lust.
"So you never been with a dude?" He said, his voice a little rougher than usual and he could see it visibly do things to Misha.
"No. . ." Dean set his glass down, feeling his mind become a bit foggy. He didn't want to get hammered so he laid back on the couch. He still wanted to be alluring though so he spread his legs in the manner that always seemed to drive Cas nuts. He let his hand rest lazily on his groin as he looked at Misha, slurring his words badly now.
"Issalright. Dicks take some gettin' used to. . . but the sex is hot."
"D-Do you prefer to be um. . ." Misha seemed to have a little difficulty finding his words. Luckily Dean was still there enough to fill in the blanks.
"Do I prefer to take it up the ass or give it?" He raised his eyebrow, smirking. Thank God he had some booze in him, because now wasn't the time to sugar coat it. "I love it in my ass. . . Love feelin' the stretch an' all full when he puts all of it in me. . .an' then when he hits that spot. . ." Dean moaned, feeling his cock twitch. Down boy, we're only messing with Misha. Don't expect to get any action tonight. He knew his jeans were tented lewdly now, even Misha wouldn't be able to miss it and he could see his hungry gaze raking down his body and stripping him bare.
"R-Right. . ." Misha coughed uncomfortably, standing up. He stumbled and fell backward right on top of Dean and Dean wondered if his life was just doomed to be some cheesy sitcom because they were flush together and Misha's limbs were like jelly with all the alcohol he'd consumed, making lifting off of Dean virtually impossible. He only managed to turn on his stomach. Dean groaned, feeling Misha's hip come in contact with his groin. Dean's breaths came out in short pants now and Misha lifted his head, letting Dean see the red on his cheeks darkening attractively as the situation dawned on him. "U-Um. . . I'm sorry. Here lemme jus'. . ." Misha shifted, dragging his leg against Dean's cock in the most tantalizing way. Dean bit his lip, trying not to moan and then he felt it. . . The bulge in Misha's pants growing on his leg and Dean looked straight into his eyes and when did their lips get so close? Misha was breathing heavily now, his cock pressed tightly against Dean's, his pupils all but swallowing the blue of his eyes.
The hunter closed his eyes as he felt Misha grind slightly against him, a desperate sound escaping his lips and Dean wondered what he was going to do. Depending on just how turned on Misha was, Dean might have to intervene. But he had to see just how far Misha would try to take it. He knew they couldn't have a repeat of this morning. Misha looked away, swallowing deeply, his voice like liquid gravel when he spoke. "Sorry. . ." With way more effort than it should have taken, Misha managed to roll himself off Dean, giving the hunter a view of his tented jeans. The actor stood up grabbing onto all the furniture in his reach and managed to hobble to the stairwell. Dean watched as he comically made his way up without killing himself and he sighed.
That man had control like titanium. He was shit-faced drunk and he still had enough mind to stop a potentially sexual situation. Dean hadn't given him any signs of rejection, and Misha's dick was clearly on board with taking the sexy and willing hunter splayed provocatively on the couch, so Dean wondered just why Misha was holding back. Maybe he didn't like Jensen that way after all? Dean didn't know why that thought left an ache in his chest. . . It wasn't like he wanted Misha to like him. . . Part of the plan was to let the man down if that had been the case. Jensen had Danneel and Dean was with Cas, or rather he would be with Cas had he not realized that none of that world actually existed and this was really just Jensen being fucked up.
Then again, Jensen and Danneel seemed tense at the best of times. They were constantly on the outs and well. . . Then there was the whole not being able to get up for her thing. Maybe Misha wasn't the one with the crush. . .
Dean sighed, hiding his face in his hands. He was way too drunk to be thinking about this crap.
::
POLL: It's taking a long time to update when I'm focused on both this and Seeing in Black, and I know some of you read both of my stories. I posted a poll on my profile to see if you, the readers, would rather I focus on AWYHM or SIB, or if I continue to update both interchangeably. I will continue to write for both unless I get a good response to the poll, just know that updates aren't going to be regular that way. I want to finish both stories, but it really is daunting to write two at the same time and I'm not a great updater as it is. . .
The poll will be open until I get a good response to it and it won't be closed until a few weeks after the next SIB update. THANK YOU FOR YOUR FEEDBAX
