Author: Guede Mazaka
Jared’s snickering again, poking at the cheap-ass gown and messing up the dials on the machines when Props isn’t paying attention. “You got anything under there, man? It’s pretty cold in here, and your dress isn’t exactly insulated.”
“You know what else isn’t? Your ass when we’re done with this damn scene.” The blanket is itchy, the make-up feels like they pancaked an inch of dough on his face, and the tape holding the needle-less tubes to his arms is really starting to itch. All in all, Jensen can definitely say that he’s not fond of this scene. Nope. “Should’ve put you in the stupid hospital. Dean’s the badass. Why does he have to be here?”
“Maybe because you electrify so good,” Jared drawls. His eyes are dark and mocking, and the way he wiggles his hand makes Jensen want to jump the rail and beat on him, and verisimilitude be damned. Dean probably wouldn’t mind dying while he was smacking around Sam. “You’ve got the moves for it.”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “Just shut up. We’ve all seen you try to get down.”
“Down?” Suddenly the hospital gown and the crappy blanket are burning up right over Jensen’s crotch, and Jared’s leaning over with that crazy-ass taunting smirk on his face that makes Jensen wish to God Sam gets a jaunt as a sociopath sometime soon.
Then Jared’s off and doing the puppy-dog thing at Make-up, who’s naturally pissed off at him. “Just making sure he’s comfortable,” Jared says.
Sure. Yeah. His ass is so owned the second they’re done. “Thanks, bro. Really.” Jensen calls up Mr. Skin and smiles. “I’m gonna return the favor later, I’m so thankful.”