Current mood:	lazy
Current music:	I think the title rather gives it away...
Entry tags:	fic - spn and cwrps

FIC: When I Feel That Something
Title: When I Feel That Something
Author: balefully
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG
Words: 1,500

Summary: Jared and Jensen get pranked royally in retribution. Luckily, it turns out to be an eye-opening experience.

Disclaimer: Merely a product of my fevered imagination.

Notes: Written for my Sam's 25th Birthday Drabble Party in response to walkawayslowly's prompt: "J2 HAND HOLDING. IN PUBLIC." Thanks to lazy_daze for the teeny beta, and to causeways for the inspiration! <3!



When I Feel That Something


They really, really shouldn't have taken a page out Dean's book and filled Manners's shampoo bottle with Nair.

Not only does he come to work bald, he comes to work fucking livid, and Jared's not entirely sure the hilarity of the situation offsets the fact that he and Jensen are doomed. Really, really doomed. When Kim's after them, the entire crew is after them, because the crew knows whose hands their fates ultimately rest in.

Jared and Jensen get through the day without a hitch, though they're both on edge, anxious and jumpy and startled by sudden movements.

They're in the make-up trailer, stripping off their costume parts and washing off their make-up when Jeannie comes in with a little tub of something. "Got you cold cream for your blood and bruises," she says. She's wearing one of those glove-shaped baggies on her hand that the craft services people use to serve lunch. She sticks her fingers in the slimy white mess of the jar and thunks an enormous glob into Jared's hand. "Share."

Jared blinks at it for a second, then shrugs and beckons Jensen over. Jensen raises an eyebrow but sticks his fingers into the glop to take enough to get the smeary, greasy makeup off his face.

"Well?" Jared says, when Jensen doesn't actually take any cold cream, just stands there with his fingers in it.

"Um," Jensen says, yanking his arm back and only managing to smash their hands together, cold cream oozing through where their fingers end up entwined. "Oh fuck."

"Oh fuck," Jared echoes, staring at the fast-drying slop on their hands.

"I cannot believe we just fell for the old superglue-in-the-cold-cream gag. Jesus Christ," Jensen mutters. "What the hell do we do now?" He's pulling ineffectively at his hand, and the skin on Jared's palm is getting really sore from the agitation.

"Murder Jeannie and Manners in cold blood?" Jared suggests. He's bombarded with vivid mental images of getting them back soundly, but now's not the time to focus on payback. Now is the time to focus on getting his hand back. It's his right hand, too, which is totally not fair. His right, and Jensen's left. He looks at them in the makeup mirrors. "Oh god," he mutters.

"What?" Jensen gives up yanking and lets their hands drop.

"We're holding hands." Jared jerks his head towards the mirror.

"Oh," Jensen says, dejected. "You do realize I have a meeting with Miramax in twenty minutes."

"You do? In Vancouver?" Jared starts rummaging around on the vanities, looking for something that will dissolve the glue.

"Yeah, they have a rep here for some reason, I don't know. Doesn't matter why; point is, we cannot show up to my meeting with our fingers permanently intertwined, man. I can't even begin to imagine what they'll think."

"You could tell them what happened," Jared says. He's getting kind of frustrated. What good is having eight million tubes of cosmetic shit when none of them are industrial-strength adhesive removal?

"No, 'cause then they'll think I'm not professional in the workplace or whatever!" Jensen's just sitting there, and Jared really wishes he would help.

"Tell them we're method acting. Sam and Dean get joined by a curse and we have to make sure we understand their soul-deep pain."

"Perfect!" Jensen says, and pumps a fist in the air. Except it's his left fist, which is attached to Jared's right fist, and dozens of little bottles of crap go flying all over the trailer.

*

They make it off set and down the street without too much incident. Jared can feel the eyes of every single passerby burning into him, though. They tried to put a jacket over their hands, but that didn't work. They tried to walk close enough together that no one could see their hands, pressed between the outsides of their thighs, but that didn't work.

"Everyone already thinks we're fucking anyway," Jared says eventually, after almost ripping an arm off when he tried to walk around a telephone pole on the opposite side from Jensen. "We should just go with it. Who cares what people think. I'm sure there are grown men out there who hold hands all the time." He doesn't sound convincing in the least, but hopefully Jensen will go for it.

"Yeah, okay," Jensen sighs. "Let's just. Pretend we're doing it on purpose."

The cab driver smiles at them in the rear-view mirror. The receptionist at the office building the meeting's being held in gives them a warm glance. As they sit in the waiting room, one guy in a group of businessmen winks at them when he walks past.

So okay, maybe Jared's actually feeling kind of good about it at this point. Jensen's warm and relaxed next to him, and he smells really amazing, if Jared ignores the caustic hint of glue. His fingers are curled around Jared's, even where they're not stuck together. It feels—right.

Jared wonders if perhaps he's been inhaling glue fumes for too long, what with the pleasant, dizzy kind of lightness he's feeling, but just as he feels like he's about to have an important breakthrough, the door to the waiting room swings open, and a neatly dressed office aid calls Jensen back.

*

"Method acting?" says the Miramax representative. He looks kind of skeptical.

"Jensen takes his work extremely seriously," Jared says, jumping in.

"I do," Jensen adds, squeezing Jared's hand in gratitude. "I'm willing to go to any lengths to immerse myself in a role and give the best performance it's in me to give."

The rep nods and takes some notes, and goes over Jensen's schedule with him. "Thank you, Mr. Ackles," he says after a moment. "I've had time to review the tapes you sent me earlier, and combined with this interview I can tell you right now we'd be happy to have you audition for the film in LA next weekend. I'll set up an appointment and give you a call."

"Thank you so much," Jensen says, and shakes the guy's hand with the one not currently occupied by Jared.

When they're out of the building, Jared whoops and pulls Jensen in for a hug, tucking his right hand behind his own back to get Jensen's arm around him. "That's awesome, Jensen," he says, squeezing firm around the strong muscle of Jensen's shoulders with his left arm. "Good for you, man."

When Jared pulls back, Jensen's looking at him a little funny, eyes bright and a high flush in his cheeks. "Yeah," he says, eyes flicking to the ground, then back to Jared's face. He licks his lips. "Yeah. Thanks for doing that for me."

"No problem," Jared says, smiling. After a quiet moment, he breaks the easy silence and pulls Jensen along after him as he heads down the street. "Let's go find a hardware store and get this shit taken care of, shall we?"

"Sure," Jensen says, but he really doesn't sound all that excited about it.

Two little old ladies, three schoolgirls, and two smartly-dressed guys give them happy, open smiles as they walk down the street. Jared's belly goes warm and he feels—kind of soft. All over. It's nice. Weird, but nice.

*

"Okay, so what do we do with this stuff?" Jensen says, poking at the packaging on a tube from the hardware store.

"Um, we just squirt it right on there. Try not to get it on skin, 'cause I think that's bad. You're gonna have to do it, since your right hand is free. I'm hopeless with my left one."

"Right," Jensen says. He gets them both situated, and shines Jared's desk lamp right on the juncture of their fingers. "Here goes nothing." He neatly squeezes the goop onto the dried superglue, counts to ten, and then looks up at Jared, something oddly deep in his eyes. "It's been real," he says, then yanks his hand back hard.

They separate with a squelch, and Jared shouts with joy. He runs straight to his bathroom to wash the shit off his hand, shouting back, "Use the kitchen sink, Jensen!"

In a matter of minutes, they're separate, unglued, and smelling like soap instead of fumes.

"Awesome," Jensen says, turning to go. His heart's clearly not really in it, though.

"You don't have to leave, man," Jared says. "Just because we're not physically stuck together doesn't mean I don't want you around or whatever." He throws Jensen a beer and motions to a stack of Netflix movies on his counter. "Wanna watch Reservoir Dogs?"

Jensen's practically beaming, and Jared takes that as a yes.

*

Halfway through the movie, Jared realizes he's holding Jensen's hand, warm and strong and relaxed, in his own. He smiles, strokes across Jensen's soft skin with the side of his thumb, and doesn't let go.

*