Jensen and Jared on weird / funny things that happened on set - “Oh, one time, we were having a throwing candy war in a trailer, and Jensen was on one side and I was on the other side, and … if you’re in a trailer then there’s a wall of mirrors [gestures to his front], and there’s a mirror there [gestures to his left], and a mirror back there [gestures to his right]. And we’re throwing stuff, and you know, he’s throwing something back …” (x)
Has anyone boinked in the ball pit or in the bounce house yet?
Imagine being told by your parents that you were conceived at Dashcon.
"I remember that day, I was dressed as FTM Dean and he was a human Karkat, he seduced me with Hotel mints and took me to the ball pit. Now eat your animal by-product free peas and write me a 25 page report on your privliges, and remeber to put Trigger warnings this time."
"When I was a sophomore, a friend asked me to go to a local acting seminar with him. Two guys were very interested in me and wanted me to come out to L.A. I wanted to finish high school before doing anything like that. I figured they’d just forget about me, but they kept after me for two years." — Jensen Ackles
Here is my entry into the Wincest Fan Fic Network’s first competition!
The challenge was “Choose an episode from Season One of Supernatural and write a scene that was never included in the original script.”
I chose the pilot episode. I hope you enjoy!
“You think Mom would have wanted this for us?”
As he says the words, Sam wonders how many times Dean had the same thought. He wonders if Dean ever questioned why it felt so good to have his younger brother pressed against him under sweaty motel sheets. If Dean deconstructs every stolen, secret moment of their youth the way Sam has. If he ponders how or why that clumsy, desperate passion gave way to more, so much more. He wonders if Dean felt the same nauseous shame, the same deep sadness that Sam had wrapped around himself like a protective cocoon ever since he left for Stanford.
“So what are you gonna do? You’re just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?”
Sam over-analyzed his relationship with Dean for years. He knew all the facts. Their emotional growth took place in isolation. While they were kept safe by a loving father who did the best he could, they starved for the tender touch of the mother who was ripped away from them too soon. John was too driven by revenge and fear to give his sons the gentle affection they needed and so naturally, they sought solace in each other. Teenage hormones and too many life-or-death close calls shaped them into wanton, reckless, boys who took pleasure where they could find it. In one another. Sam and Dean transcended brothers and friends, becoming lovers before Sam was done with puberty. Sadly, understanding the pathology didn’t make Sam’s feelings for his brother any clearer or the soul-deep desire he felt for Dean ache any less.
“No. Not normal. Safe.”
Sam left because he was being smothered. His identity was constantly folded up, packed away, shoved into some hidden corner of his body. His soul had become a hardened little lump of coal clanking around in his big, useless shell. The life was being sucked out of him every cramped minute he spent in the backseat of Impala or shabby motel room, consumed with lying and hiding. They had to stay safe, had to keep moving, had to keep secrets, so many secrets. Sam couldn’t be honest with teachers, classmates, or friends. He never formed real relationships, was too plagued with worry and the bitter taste of lie after lie. He feared Dad would find out he had aspirations outside of hunting or that he and Dean had long since become more than brothers. Sam began to resent Dean too, even question what had grown between them. A bond forged in secret, in the dark. Doubt and guilt became constant companions and helped Sam build all those walls.
“And that’s why you ran away.”
It feels like a lifetime ago but Sam’s body knows better. It hasn’t forgotten. The adrenaline pulsing through his veins as he pounces on the shadowy intruder in his living room brings back his years of training in an instant. He feels strong, quick, and capable. He’s proud in that moment, feeling like a capable protector. Pride dissolved to shock and his skin flushes with arousal upon realizing it’s his brother pressing him to the floor. Dean’s husky, dirty-velvet voice sends a tremor down his spine, making his body arch involuntarily under his touch. Sam wants to believe he has moved on but his body betrays him. Now his heart betrays him too. Even as he tries so hard to resist the pull of his beautiful, charismatic brother, that familiar ache in his chest grows. His carefully constructed barriers began to fall away, layer by crumbling layer.
“I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that’s what I’m doing.”
Dean never understood Sam’s reasons for leaving, wouldn’t outwardly accept that it runs deeper than simply trying to escape the life thrust upon him by fate. They haven’t seen one another in almost two years but Sam is just as good at reading the emotions on Dean’s face as he ever was. He can see the pain flicker in Dean’s eyes as Sam blames it all on Dad, yet again. Dean never believed that he wasn’t the real reason Sam left. The truth was Sam couldn’t look him in the eye and tell him that their relationship wasn’t at least part of what made him go. Back then all Sam wanted was a fresh start, a second chance. Something pure and honest and good that didn’t fill him with that sticky, dark, longing he always felt for Dean. Sam’s heart was spilling over with thorny, choking vines that had grown without the benefit of light. He wanted a chance to love freely, in the sunshine, cultivate something simple and beautiful – like what he had now with Jess.
“Yeah, well, Dad’s in real trouble right now. If he’s not dead already. I can feel it.”
What Dean was asking wasn’t about Dad, not really, not for either of them. The deep pools of Dean’s eyes swim with loneliness and hurt. Hurt Sam had put there. The guilt stings as Sam tries to avoid those jade green orbs. He fails and they pull him in, make his heart vines cinch tight, their thorns digging deep. Sam’s suffering forces him to retaliate. He makes Dean beg. He craves the sting of pleasure-pain he gets from feeling needed by his brother. He longs for that wobbly, nauseous tickle in his stomach he gets looking at his brother’s gorgeous face as it twists up in desperation. Feeling needed, wanted, and necessary was salve to Sam’s reopened wounds. Dean didn’t disappoint.
“I can’t do this alone.”
“Yes you can.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to.”
Sam still feels in control when he goes back inside to explain things to Jess. He gave Dean what he wanted but knew he’d come back to her soon. He could envision his future-self curled around her warm, powder-scented softness in the bed they shared, his interview aced, and their life together back on track. This little detour wouldn’t hurt anyone. Sam doesn’t let Jess kiss him on the lips when they say goodbye. He doesn’t want to taste the lingering slick of her cherry chap stick on his mouth as he drives away with his brother. He doesn’t want to think about how her lips are soft and plush like the only ones he’d ever kissed before. Perfect and full, just like Dean’s.