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So it started at 4am. Like most things in Jensen’s life these days that either started at 4am (filming) or ended at 4am (filming) it was really nothing unusual for a 4am 'happening'.
Well, he supposed actually it was a little unusual, given that last night it seems that Jared and him had slept in the same bed. All night. Like from Midnight to 4am, together, in the same bed, together.
Together.
What usually happened, post fuck buddy orgasmic glow, was easily explained through a flow chart containing the element of dog, the medium of six four in height, the addition of pure exhaustion, all mixed together with a few grams of denial.
So when Jensen woke up with octupus arms wrapped around him on one side and dog breath on the other, he kind of knew somewhere along the line the whole concept of fuck buddies had somehow morphed into…
…together.
“Stop staring freak,” Jared mumbled pulling the covers higher until only a pineapple top of flicky hair could be seen. Jensen blinked, looked at the alarm clock, 4:01, and then down at Harley who rolled over on his back and stretched long and full in the middle of a doggy dream, wondering, not for the first time, how his dog food breath reached Jensen way up on the bed.
“Wasn’t staring,” he replied, yawning, “you're still here?” Jensen thought they needed to talk about this. All he received in response was a series of muffled grunts and the quilt moving until hazel eyes looked sleepily over the top.
“Say again?” Jensen thought maybe Jared had said something important, something along the lines of ‘I love you, I want to marry you and have your kids’, something that would define the rest of his life with it’s epic importance.
“Orgasm… unconscious,” Jared mumbled, the words lost in the covers, and Jensen carefully pulled them down to expose Jared’s mouth to see if maybe he could follow the words with visual help.
“Again?”
“I’m only here ‘cos I lost consciousness,” Jared whimpered, squirming around to lay facing Jensen, “man, that… you fucked me into unconsciousness.”
Jensen smirked, sniggered, felt proud, felt ridiculous, laughed, then went deadly quiet, all in the space of three point seven two seconds. “Oh,” was his final response, he couldn’t really begin to string together a coherent sentence, it being 4:04 and all.
“Yes, Oh. I wont walk right for a week,” Jared sighed, closing his eyes, his breathing evening out. Jensen stared for a good three minutes.
4:07, fuck this.
Jensen poked hard into Jared’s shoulder.
“Ouch, fucker,” was Jared’s surprised response and he fought to free a hand so he could poke back, giving up when it became impossibly tangled in silky sheets.
“I did NOT fuck you into unconsciousness.” Jensen pointed out, "it isn't possible."
“You did too.”
“Did not.”
“Did - ”
“Jared, it’s 4:08, what the fuck?”
Jared sighed, rolling back on his side, pulling Jensen in close and wrapping his sheet locked body around his sometimes lover. “You can have it one of two ways stud. I can either tell everyone that we cuddle like girls. Or… I can tell everyone that Jensen Ackles fucked me into an orgasm of unconsciousness. Your choice.
Apart from the whole sudden and over with quickly ‘no we cant tell anyone anything’ panic, what was most telling was that Jensen Ross Ackles, former heterosexual of some renown, was siding with the whole cuddling story.
Go figure.