rivers_bend

Title: Punch Drunk
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: R
Words: ~3000
The Obvious: I don't know them. Any apparent 'facts' are twisted to my sick fantasies will.
A/N: wendy was awesome to beta this and talk me off the ledge.
Summary: Gay sex is just one of the things that happens when you drink Mike's punch. Or is it?


Punch Drunk

Jensen knows the rule about not drinking punch at Mike's parties. Hell, he made the rule. But somehow when Jared bounces over like a jack-in-the-box without the box, waving two sports bottles filled with an alarming blue liquid, it's hard to remember anything except Jared's enthusiasm.

"Look!" Jared calls from halfway across the room. "Party-foul-proof and everything!" Before Jensen knows it, he and Jared are toasting with the bottles and squirting god knows what down their throats.

The trouble with Mikey's punch is that once you start, more seems like a good plan. As does every other idea that would usually make you back away in fear. Like playing strip poker with Mike's fraternity brothers who are on some crazy-ass road trip before one of them gets married. Or maybe goes to Iraq. Something that means they're all acting twenty instead of thirty-five. Or maybe that's just hanging with Rosy again. Jensen knows how that goes. You do things like drink blue punch and strip your shirt off in front of some fugly guys you don't even know and your costar who is anything but fugly and whom maybe you know a little bit too well, because it seems totally normal that he helps you take your shirt off and then sits with his hand in the middle of your back. Rubbing. Up and down and up and down in this totally hypnotizing way that makes it really good that this version of strip poker is the everyone-lays-down-a-card-and-lowest-card-strips version, because you not only don't know which is higher, two pairs or a straight, you don't even know what a straight is anymore.

Jensen is intimately acquainted with how that feels.

Someone brings him a shot of tequila and he does it, and doesn't even question when Jared smears a salted finger across his lips and then pushes it inside. He just sucks. It's what you do when you're drunk and doing shots. A little out of order maybe, but that's okay. The lime Jared crushes between their teeth is more of a surprise, but it's the shock of the juice squirting down his throat that throws Jensen, not Jared's lips mashed against his or Jared's huge paw wrapped around the back of his head.

That's why you should never drink Mike's punch. You start making out with your straight best friend like it's totally normal. And you don't stop, only pause to spit out the lime peel, when a group of ex-fratboys who are trying to relive their youth start jeering and egging you on. You end up following when your best friend, who also happens to be your on-screen brother, stands up and drags you by the back of your neck down the hall into an empty bedroom—well, once your costar kicks out the couple necking on the coats like this is some kind of high school party or something, it's empty—and you don't say anything at all when he pulls down your jeans and drops to his knees and starts sucking your dick. When you do start talking, you don't say, stop, or Jared, what the hell do you think you're doing, you say, "Oh, god, yes, just like—fuck, jesus, god—gnngh," and you come in your best friend's mouth.

Intimately doesn't even begin to cover how acquainted Jensen is with how that feels.

The next thing Jensen knows, Jared is standing and then leaning down to kiss him, and Jensen wonders why after Jared blows him his jizz tastes kind of like salt and lime when it never has before, and then remembers what a straight is in poker and thinks, and this is what straight really isn't, I guess, and shoves his hand down the front of his best friend and also costar's jeans.

The other thing about Mike's punch is it doesn't really impair your memory, and the next day Jensen can't decide if this is a good or a bad thing. On the plus side he remembers getting a damned decent blowjob. On the minus side, he really pretty much wants another one, but he's pretty sure Jared was just punch-drunk queer and it's not gonna happen. They both have girlfriends for fuck's sake. And gay sex is just one of those things that happens when you drink Mike's punch.

For the first time since he can remember, Jensen doesn't talk to Jared all weekend, doesn't get (or send) so much as a single text message. He's really worried about what's going to happen Monday morning.

When the car comes to pick him up, Jared hooks him into a half-hug like usual and says, "What the hell is in that shit we were drinking at Mike's? I spent all weekend puking. And I hope you didn't try to call. Dropped my phone in the toilet and then puked on that too. Christ."

"I, um, no," Jensen manages. Maybe not everyone remembers the whole night when they've been drinking the devil's blue juice.

But then Jared says, "Good night, though, yeah?" grinning and cocking his eyebrow before turning to their driver and asking him to turn up the radio, making Jensen think maybe Jared remembers after all.

The rest of the ride is like every other morning in the three years they've been filming. They go play Sam and Dean, Jared throws breadsticks at Jensen's head during lunch, and sets one of the PA's cell phones to fart loudly when she gets a text message, and obviously it's no big deal. Which is just fine. You drink the punch, you take what comes.

Two weeks later, when Mike has his get-to-grow-my-hair-now blow-out party, Jensen's practically forgotten that he ever worried the blowjob/handjob night might make things weird. He maybe hasn't forgotten the blowjob itself, but he's sure that there's some kind of rule that what you think about in the privacy of your own shower or your own bed is just that. Private. And it doesn't mean anything. Nonetheless, he sticks to beer all night. Not that it's hard, because Jared flew down to LA already to see Sandy, and Mike's offers of punch just aren't as tempting as Jared's.

When Jensen calls Jared to tell him he won't be able to make the Dallas Convention, Jared gives him the news about his broken engagement. "Was gonna tell you when you got here, man," he says, "but if you're not coming…"

Jensen feels like a total shit. He wants to be there for Jared, and he can't, and that just sucks. He gets his family to go and say hi and give the guy hugs, but it's totally not the same. It's after the convention that he starts sending Jared silly texts every time there's a break in shooting, starts calling him every night. He doesn't think anything of it, is just being a good friend, until bloody Kerr Smith asks him one night after Jensen's spent most of their third pitcher of beer showing him all the texts from Jared saved on his phone, "When's the wedding?"

"Dude, they broke up," Jensen says. "Haven't you been paying attention?"

Smith just laughs at him. "I meant your wedding, idiot."

Jensen drags his fingers through the beer spilled on the table and flicks it in Kerr's face. "Spare me your homoerotic fantasies, asshole," he says with a wide smile like it's all just one big hilarious joke. Which obviously it is. Jared is his best friend. And costar. And even if he isn't getting married anymore, he's still straight. And so is Jensen. Mostly. And private thoughts are private, anyway.

He doesn't call Jared that night, but Jared calls him, and they shoot the shit and rib each other and brag about how awesome they are at doing stunts, and Jensen forgets about people he used to know when he was on Dawson's Creek and gets excited about getting back to filming Supernatural, which is far superior in every way. Obviously.

It isn't until he stops staying with Jared and starts living with him that he even remembers what Kerr said that night.

Jared is, well, Jared, really, but Jensen's starting to have a harder time seeing him as the friendly but so totally straight puppy-boy he's been assuring himself Jared is for so long. It's not the hair products or the increasingly tight t-shirts or Jared's hands that don't know how to keep themselves to themselves, or even the way he keeps looking at Jensen. It's— well, okay, it is those things. It's all those things, and it's disconcerting. Because if Jared isn't straight, then the whole thing with the punch might be more thing and less just punch, except if that were true then Jared would have said something before now, because he's Jared, and he just blurts out whatever comes into his head.

Fucking Mike and his fucking punch.

Fucking Jared and his always being there so Jensen can't just jerk off to the stupid thoughts of the stupid thing that happened the night he drank Mike's stupid punch, and get it all out of his system.

When Jensen picks up his phone and starts to dial Mike's number to ask for the recipe for the blue punch of doom with the idea of convincing Jared to drink it again, he realizes things have gone too far. Instead, he calls the airline and goes down to LA for the weekend. He and Danneel talk about how maybe the long distance thing isn't really working and he ignores his phone when Jared calls.

When he gets back, Jensen acts like nothing happened. Because nothing did happen, and it's ridiculous to pretend otherwise. At least they're filming a bunch of stuff where Sam and Dean are lying to each other so Jensen can evade Jared's questions and claim method acting when Jared's reluctant to believe him.

Then Jared goes away for the week, leaving Jensen to reenact Back to the Future without him, and maybe, possibly, jerk off in Jared's bed. Twice. (Okay three times, but two of those he didn't get out of the bed between, so it only counts as once, right?) Jensen is pretty sure Jared didn't know about that part though, and he has no plans whatsoever to let him in on the secret. Fortunately Jared washed his sheets before he left so Jensen just has to wash them again and it's like nothing ever happened.

Work is crazy when Jared gets back, shooting half the night, sound problems, practical jokes, and they hardly even have time to sleep at home, never mind hang out and talk about who might have done what in whose bed when. If Jared looks insanely sexy (and he does), it's not like Jensen is the only one who can't seem to tear his eyes away. Hair and makeup have been finding excuses to paw him between practically every take since the season started. And now he thinks about it, that might be why Jensen keeps noticing Jared's ridiculously shiny lips. Nothing whatsoever to do with how often he's been thinking the private thoughts.

It's three in the morning when they're finally sent home to start their "weekend." Clif has to wake them both up when they get to the house, and Jensen assumes they are just going to stumble into their respective beds. Instead Jared grabs him by the wrist and tugs him towards the sofa.

"What's up?" Jensen finally asks when Jared has done nothing but look down at his hands for several minutes.

"I thought—" Jared looks at him, then over at the blank TV and then down at his hands again. "Wanna play strip poker?"

"Do I—what?" Jensen can't have heard him correctly, because they just worked their asses off and it's almost four am and he's pretty sure Jared just suggested they play strip poker. The two of them. Without the benefit of alcohol or any other people.

"Yeah," Jared says and frowns. "Yeah. I didn't think so."

"No—" Jensen really wants the frown to go away. "No, I was just checking. Did you ask if I wanted to play strip poker?" He risks putting a hand on Jared's knee because that usually makes him smile and it's something Jared would do for him, so even if Jared didn't say anything about strip poker, he probably won't think Jensen is being weird.

Jared looks at Jensen's hand. Touches it, pulls away and then lays his hand on top of it. "Well," he says. He squeezes. "I thought that might sound a little less crazy than asking if maybe you want another blowjob. In case, you know, I've been reading the signals wrong or something."

It's all Jensen can do not to snatch his hand back, because now he's definitely hallucinating, and he might start acting out his fantasies next. Remembering Jared's frown and how much he doesn't like to see it is all that keeps his hand where it is. "A blow..?" is all he manages to get out when Jared looks at him expectantly.

"I was gonna call Mike and find out what was in that punch, but then I just thought, fuck it. We'd be back where we started, with me sucking you off and hoping that maybe it meant more to you than just some drunken thing, but having no idea how to ask you, and so just ignoring it for the next three months."

"I almost called him last month," Jensen blurts out. This time he does snatch his hand away and uses it to cover his mouth. Which he totally blames the writers for; he never would have done such a thing if he hadn't been thinking about how to play Dean Winchester like a scared little kid.

Jared doesn't frown though, he smiles. Grins. Whatever. "God. We would never live it down if we'd both called him." Then he puts his hand on Jensen's knee, pulling Jensen's hand down to cover it. "Wasn't kidding about that blowjob, just in case you're thinking you heard me wrong or something."

Any urge Jensen had to laugh at the thought of Mike teasing them is gone. "Oh," he says.

And then Jared's hands are moving, sliding up Jensen's chest to his shoulders and pushing him back on the couch. "I should have let you sleep first," he says. "I can tell." But he doesn't let Jensen answer, just follows him down and kisses him.

And wow. Something else that happens when you drink Mike's punch is that you lose half the sensation in your lips. Or more. Because when Jared kissed Jensen that night it was nice and everything, obviously, given how often Jensen has been thinking about it since then, but no way had it felt like this.

If it had, Jensen's pretty sure he never would have let Jared get away with not doing it again the next day. There's the part where his hand is lifting Jensen's neck to get the angle right, and the part where he's lying so his stomach is pressing on Jensen's dick with just the right amount of pressure to feel good but not like Jared has something to prove, and the part where his other hand is up under Jensen's shirt, fingers curled around his back and thumb rubbing over Jensen's ribs; and all of those things definitely add to the awesomeness of the kiss. But the kid has game going on with his lips in a way that just isn't evident watching him kiss onscreen or when Jensen has glanced over and seen him kissing Sandy in public.

Jensen has never considered himself a slouch in the kissing department, but if and when his brain ever manages something more profound than wow, he is totally taking notes.

He's just starting to feel like maybe he was wrong about needing to sleep, like ever again, when Jared stops and says, "Should we go to bed?"

Jensen tries not to look too disappointed.

"I have softer sheets," Jared goes on. "Unless you like your bed better?"

"Together," Jensen says and wonders why he thought Jared meant anything else, given his offer of a blowjob, his clear-intentioned kissing and his known love of cuddling anything that would sit still long enough.

Jared just gives him the are you stupid? look.

Jensen agrees, "You do have softer sheets," and hopes Jared won't wonder how exactly Jensen knows this.

When Jared pauses outside Jensen's bathroom, Jensen thinks for a moment that Jared's gonna watch him brush his teeth and that makes him feel a little weird. Weirder than the kissing and weirder than the whole Jared's not as straight as Jensen thought thing, and that's kind of freaky in itself. But then Jared just smiles and says, "See you upstairs," which is like every night that they go up there to run lines or hang out, and Jensen stops wondering what the hell he's doing.

Jared is under the covers when Jensen gets upstairs, teeth and face clean. Which is back to being weird again, but Jensen ignores that and climbs in. Jared turns off the light, whispers, "goodnight," and throws an arm across Jensen's chest. He's asleep before Jensen has a chance to reply, but, bemused as he is, Jensen can't blame him, because he's asleep himself in seconds.


Jensen's first thought on waking is that Sadie has managed to break into his room again and is licking him awake. Then he realizes that he's being tickled by silky locks and not bristly dog whiskers, and that the places he's being licked were under his boxer shorts when he fell asleep.

"Morning," comes the muffled greeting from under the covers when Jensen's fingers grip and tangle in Jared's hair.

"Morni—" is all Jensen manages before Jared starts making good on his promise of a blowjob, making Jensen's breath hitch in his throat.

Jensen knows the rule about not drinking punch at Mike's parties. Hell, he made the rule. But it's a rule he's thinking of changing. Because the thing about Mike's punch is that you might end up playing strip poker with your best friend and costar, getting head and giving a handjob, sending him silly texts, thinking private thoughts about him more and more often, moving into his house, masturbating in his bed while he's out of town, and then realizing when he gives you head again, that you've gone and fallen in love with him.

And after your best friend, who you've gone and fallen in love with, has slept curled around you all night and woken you up with a blowjob, you might find that you really, really like being intimately acquainted with how it feels when he grins up at you and says, "I think we should do that every morning from now on."
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