Archive of Our Own

The sight that greeted Jensen when he pulled up to his spot in the driveway was a good one: the setting sun shining gold through the trees at the back of the yard, the brick on the side of the house reflecting that same light, and in the middle of it all--Jared. The day was getting a little cool for Jensen's taste, but Jared looked warm and comfortable in his torn up jeans and no shirt, stretched out on the recliner with the dogs sprawled on the grass beside him. He wasn't sleeping, his hand moved in a lazy pattern through Sadie's fur and his feet swung back and forth like he was conducting a symphony with his freakishly long toes.

The music in his iPod must have blocked out the sound of the tires crunching on gravel, but when Jensen activated the car alarm with its obnoxious double beep Jared sat up. The dogs came bounding over to the fence and Jared followed, pulling his ear buds out and letting the wires drape around his neck. "Hey, Jen!"

"Hey! You finally got somebody to come out here?"

"Huh? Somebody who?" Jared smiled, confusion clear in his smile.

"Somebody to get that shit out of the garden out front. You know, a landscaper or whatever?"

"Landscaper?" Finally close enough, Jared wrapped a hand around Jensen's bicep and pulled him in for a kiss. "Mmmmm," Jared hummed as they broke apart. "I didn't get a landscaper, dude, I took care of it myself yesterday."

"Shit." Jensen pulled away from Jared's hands, suddenly 100% glad he'd put on a long sleeve shirt before getting on the plane. "Tell me you wore more clothes than that. Gloves, a mask, something?"

"Would you chill?" Jared reached out for Jensen's face, and Jensen ducked away. "What is your problem?"

"My problem is that you're an idiot! That shit was poison ivy!"

"No. No man, it was just like, you know, regular ivy."

"It was poison ivy. Leaves of three, let it be? And now it's probably all over my shirt." Jensen shuddered, wondering if it was better to take his shirt off right away or put on gloves or something to do it. He'd be damned if he got stuck taking steroids like he did when he fell in a patch of the stuff back in high school.

"Well, whatever." Jared shrugged. "I can deal with a little rash."

"Yeah, tell me that again tomorrow." Jensen shook his head and shouldered his bag again, heading for the house. "But you're gonna have to come downstairs to tell me because there's no way in hell I'm sharing a bed with you."

~~~

"Jensen."

Jared's voice and the dip from his weight on the edge of the mattress woke Jensen up.

"You were right."

Jensen figured he was right about a lot of things, not that Jared let him have the last word very often. His brain was still dragged down by sleep and the fading, nonsensical images from whatever screwed up stuff he was dreaming about, but he thought there was something he was supposed to remember, some explanation for why Jared sounded so bummed about Jensen being right. He felt Jared shift on the bed and heard him scratch, the rasp of short fingernails on skin.

Oh, shit. He remembered the poison ivy and Jared's total confidence in his ability to repel poisonous plant oils. This was not going to be pretty. Jensen opened his eyes and sat up to see Jared frowning miserably, scratching one arm awkwardly with the back of his other hand. "Aw, man. Come on, let me see."

Jared held out his hands, turning them palms-up, and Jensen winced at the sight--a bright red rash covering Jared's forearms and blistering on his palms. Patches of rash stood out on his face and neck, and Jensen figured his legs were about the same. "Does it make you wanna puke?" Jared frowned down at his hands.

"Um, no." Jensen sighed, thinking about the phone calls that would need to be made--changes in the filming schedule, a doctor's appointment for Jared. "I've seen worse, believe it or not."

"Kind of makes me want to puke." Jared swallowed hard and poked at one of the blisters on his hand. "All this liquidy stuff. Gross."

Jensen smacked lightly at Jared's hands. "Don't pick at it. You'll fuck it up worse."

"It kinda hurts, too." Jared pouted, and Jensen didn't know whether he wanted to pat Jared on the head or laugh at him. Hell, he loved the guy too much to add insult to injury.

"I know." He ran his fingers through the back of Jared's hair and leaned in to kiss him, delicately touching his lips to Jared's, careful not to touch any of the rashy parts of Jared's face. "We'll get you into the doctor today. They'll give you stuff, make it better in a couple days."

"Fuck." Jared flopped down, sprawled on his back on Jensen's bed. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

~~~

Jensen got himself to set and got Jared a ride to the doctor so he wouldn't have to drive with his blistery hands. He spent the day doing scenes that didn't involve Jared, ignoring the grumbling of the crew members who'd been forced to scrap their set-ups for the day in order to make the new schedule work.

When he got home, he found Jared sacked out on the couch with a box of Benadryl, a tube of cream and a prescription bottle on the coffee table along with a bottle of water. Jensen sat on the edge of the sofa and looked at Jared's face, shiny with cream and just as red as it had been in the morning. From Jensen's own experience with poison ivy, he knew it would be worse by now if left to its own devices, so he figured the doctor must have given him something good. Jensen picked up Jared's hand and winced at the blisters marring his skin, and that finally broke through the haze of medicine and woke Jared up.

"Hey, what time's it?" He asked, rolling his head around on the pillows and messing his hair up to a point where Jensen really would have liked to take some pictures for posterity.

"I just got in. You feeling any better?"

"Itches a little less. I just kinda wanna sleep."

"Then sleep, you're good. Why don't you go to bed where you have more room for your freakishly long legs?"

"Okay." Jared sat up and gathered his supplies before standing. "Jen?"

"Yeah, I'll take care of the dogs. Go."

"Thanks, man. But, um, Jen?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you come to bed tonight? Our bed, I mean."

Jensen opened his mouth to tell Jared that no amount of love was worth getting that shit again, but Jared started talking again.

"The doctor said it's not contagious anymore. It's not really spread by the stuff in the blisters--that's just what they used to think."

"Really? Or are you just trying to drag me down into the same mess with you?"

Jared's eyebrows drew together in a sleepily confused frown. "No, um, he said that so I figured maybe you didn't know."

"Okay. Okay, give me an hour to run the dogs around and get a shower and stuff?" Jared nodded, scratching idly at his wrist.

"Hey." Jensen walked up to Jared and gently pulled his hands away from each other. "Don't do that. Shannon isn't going to want to cover any scars." Jensen pressed one palm to Jared's face and kissed his lips. "I'll be up soon."

~~~

The next morning, the milder rash on Jared's face and legs was looking a lot better, but the blistered flesh of his hands was still an angry red. Jensen headed off to another day on his own on set and called Jared a slacker even though it came out sounding more like a term of endearment than an epithet.

When he got home, Jared was slumped on the couch with the TV remote sitting on the arm of the couch and video game gear spread out on the coffee table. Jensen got a feeling of restless boredom as soon as he walked through the door, and the tinge of desperation on Jared's face made it all the more clear that there was at least one very unhappy puppy on the premises.

"Dude, which of the dogs pissed in your cheerios?"

Jared frowned and looked back at the TV. "Aw, fuck off." He went back to flipping channels, pressing the channel up button with one finger against the remote so he didn't have to hold it.

"'Scuse me for coming home." Jensen walked into the kitchen to get himself a beer and then came back out and sat down on the opposite end of the couch from Jared, looking at the quickly flipping channels rather than Jared.

A few minutes went by with Jensen concentrating on drinking his beer and Jared watching no more than thirty seconds of any one show until he finally set down the remote with the TV on Ninja Warrior. "Jen?"

Jensen watched as the Japanese guy on the screen ran across the unsteady boards and then face-planted in the water. That had to suck.

"Look, I'm sorry I just--"

"It's okay." As soon as the words were out Jensen knew he'd said it too fast, Jared was never going to leave it alone. He just didn't feel like arguing. He glanced over at Jared out of the corner of his eye and saw him rearranging himself on the couch, his movements stiff with tension.

"No, sorry I'm being a dick, I'm just going kind of nuts here."

"The stuff from the doctor isn't helping with the itching?"

"Naw, it is. But it's my hands." Jared held them out, the blisters better than before but still red and sore-looking. "Dude, it fucking hurts to touch anything much, you won't hardly touch me, I can't jerk myself off, and I saved it up all damn week while you were gone. I'm goin' nuts!"

Jensen couldn't help but smile a little at Jared's rant of sexual frustration, but that was nearly a week and a half without getting off, and that--for Jared--was a hell of a long way from normal.

"I could give you a hand." Jensen held up one hand and wiggled his fingers in the air. "I mean, I'm very fond of your balls; I wouldn't want them to atrophy from lack of use."

Jared shifted his hips and closed his eyes. "Aw, God."

Jensen turned himself around to kneel on the couch cushions and trailed one finger over the skin just below the hem of Jared's shorts. He wanted to grin at Jared's indrawn breath, but he kept his face neutral. "That something you'd like?"

"Yeah. Oh man, yeah." Jared's erection was clear through the silky material of his gym shorts and he sounded so close to begging, so desperate for just the touch, the release, that Jensen felt his own cock getting hard in response, pressing against his jeans. He moved his knees further apart and reached down inside his pants to adjust himself and sighed at the small pleasure of having more room. He looked back up to see Jared watching with wide eyes, his lower lip trapped between his teeth.

Jared hooked his thumbs under his waistband and started to tug his shorts down, moving awkwardly and wincing at the pressure on his skin until Jensen reached out to stop him. "Let me do it, Jay." He took Jared's hands loosely in his and moved them to rest on the couch on either side of Jared's hips. "Your only job here is to not use these."

Jared groaned and tensed his fingers but didn't move them from where Jensen had placed them. Jensen pulled the front of Jared's waistband down to reveal his cock, and it grew even harder in response to the motion of the fabric, Jensen's hand, the touch of air against sensitive skin--Jensen didn't know, he just knew it wasn't going to take long to get Jared where he so clearly needed to go.

Jensen sank down, letting his butt rest on his heels. His quads burned from the stretch, but it was a good ache. He pulled down his own zipper, and then it was better, his cock free to bob in front of his belly. He smiled as Jared's eyes widened.

"Jesus, Jen."

"Patience," Jensen hummed. He stuck his right index finger in his mouth and bathed it with saliva. His skin tasted like salt and soap, and when he pulled his finger out of his mouth it popped wetly against his lips. He wet his middle finger next, and then the rest of his fingers. Jared moaned, right on the edge, and Jensen finally took mercy on him. He reached out his spit-slick hand and wrapped it around Jared's cock.

He kept his touch light, loose fist sliding up and down Jared's length, until Jared rolled his head sideways onto his shoulder and whimpered, "Please, please," his hands tensing up on top of the couch cushions, fingers spread wide to resist grasping the fabric. Jensen tightened his grasp and jacked Jared faster, scuffing the rough edge of his thumb over the head of Jared's cock each time. Jared let out a tiny keen from high up in his throat and came, spurting over Jensen's hand and painting jagged streaks over his own t-shirt.

Jensen smoothed Jared through coming, coming down, and then leaned forward a kissed him hard and dirty. He wrapped his cum-wet hand around his own cock and brought himself off while he pushed his tongue inside Jared's mouth, the scrape of Jared's teeth bringing him closer to the edge. He felt off-balance, kneeling over Jared without Jared's hands bracing his arms, but Jared's knees pressed against his thighs, helping to hold him up as the rhythm of his breathing fell apart and he came, making a mess of Jared's shirt as well as his own.

Jensen's thighs cramped, complaining about the position, and he let himself go, sliding forward onto Jared's lap.

"Hmmm," Jared mumbled sleepily above Jensen's head. "Missed you."

"Missed you too," Jensen replied into the sticky cotton over Jared's chest. "Idiot."