Better Now

He finds Jared sitting on the steps of a trailer, staring out at the stretch of abandoned highway they're shooting on that night. The sun's setting, down halfway behind the trees already, leaving the sky streaked gold and pale orange and cotton candy pink, and Jensen knows that they have half an hour, maybe, before they're needed again.

His first instinct is to go to Jared, to make a space for himself on the stairs too, to poke at Jared until he gives up the few inches Jensen'll need, because Jared, of course, is spread out, elbows balanced on loosely spread knees. He doesn't go any closer, though, because all day, Jared's been, well. Not quite as loud, his smile not quite so freely given. He's hiding it pretty well, though, and Jensen likes to think he's maybe one of the only people who'd notice.

So Jensen waits, because there's no way that Jared didn't hear him coming, no way that Jared doesn't know he's there. And indeed he does, because it only takes a beat or two before Jared's looking up and over. He stares back at Jensen for a moment, eyes almost shuttered, and then he smiles. It's not nearly as wide as the usual Jared-smile—Jensen might even call it soft—but it still hits Jensen low in his gut. He still finds himself smiling back. And then Jared's making room for him, drawing his knees in, dropping his feet a few steps farther down, until the heels of his shoes are almost touching the ground, and that's all the invitation that Jensen needs.

He walks up the steps and takes the one right above Jared. Jared didn't leave quite enough room, though, so they're sitting close enough that the curve of Jared's shoulder is pressed to Jensen's thigh.

It's a deliberate touch.

It's even more deliberate when Jared shifts on his step, so that he's almost leaning into Jensen. Even in this position, Jensen can feel the tension in Jared's muscles, the stiffness of his body, and that's what prompts him to raise his hand, to let it come to rest on the back of Jared's neck. The muscles there are tight, thick, and it's instinct that has Jensen brushing his thumb up towards Jared's hairline, pressing down firmly over the thin skin.

It takes a long moment, another stroke of his thumb, two, but then Jared starts relaxing, shoulders drooping. Jensen hears him sigh, and when he looks down at Jared's face, he can see that his eyelids have slid closed.

Another moment, a deep breath, and Jensen keeps stroking at Jared's neck as he says, "So, you want to tell me what's going on?"

He knows Jared is going to shrug before he does—can feel the play of muscles against his leg—and indeed he does.

"Just, you know, one of those days. Just feeling a little off. You know how it goes."

And yeah, Jensen does. He nods even though Jared's not looking up at him, even though he won't see.

"Yeah," he says. "I do."

"Better now," Jared says after another long moment, and Jensen can feel his whole body shift as he looks up. As he smiles, almost as wide and bright as Jensen's used to, close enough to real that Jensen pretty much believes Jared's telling the truth. Still, though, he doesn't move his hand.

"Yeah, well," Jensen says, and Jared says, "Yeah," firmly, before looking back out towards the sunset. Before bending even farther into Jensen's touch as Jensen trails his thumb over the line of Jared's neck again.


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