yansadracan

Title: A Night With ‘The Wild Bunch’
Author: YanzaDracan
Fandom: RPS
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: FRM
Summary: Prompt – Midsommer Eve
Disclaimer: I don't own them. They belong only to themselves. This is a figment of my imagination and a work of fiction. I'm not making any money. Any errors are my own.

Ever since they filmed their Christmas episode about the Gods of the Winter Solstice, Jensen’s dreams were filed with images of stags, black horses, red eared hounds, a man with leaves for a face, and riding across the night sky always searching.

Some mornings he’d wake panting, twisted in his sheets. Harley and Sadie stretched out along side, keeping him from ending up on the floor.

Nights he felt as though he’d been on horseback for hours. The worst thing was the whispers, just out of earshot, wanting, needing something from him.

When they were home, the dogs were reluctant any time Jared tried to take them away from Jensen.

The makeup crew teased him about his night life and how it was a good thing Dean needed to look rough around the edges.

Then the writers went on strike. Now it was June and they were still in Vancouver. Everyone was tense, exhausted, and anxious to be anywhere but here.

Jared and the dogs barely let him go to the bathroom by himself. Jared constantly in his space was starting to wear on the walls he’d built around all his feelings for the younger man.

His relaxing Saturday evening had Jensen seeking his bed early. Soon the dreams started. He was there. The large black stallion with hooves of flame ruffled his hair with its breath. Harley and Sadie sat beside him, but when he looked down a pack of red eared hounds milled around, noses in the air, bodies quivering with anticipation.

Voices calling—“Jensen, son of Herne, ‘tis your Midsommer to lead the Wild Hunt.”

Before he can think his stallion is following the hounds. Shades of men, women, young, old run before and following blending together into chaos of sounds and colors as they gallop across the night jumping bonfires, flames leaping to caress…

Flames caressing turns into large hands. long fingers, a frantic voice calling him to come back, wake up, don’t leave.

Muddled brain forced heavy eyes to open. He let them fall shut again. **That must have been some party.** He was seeing everything like a double exposure photograph. Images from his dreams bleeding into real life.

“You open your fuckin’ eyes, Ackles! Don’t you go out on me again!”

He tried to answer the strident voice, but the words were jumbled. The right language wasn’t there. Finally, on the third try the words were right so he opened his eyes, and saw a chest--a very nice chiseled chest. He tried to free himself from the arms mashing him against the very nice chiseled chest, but Jared wasn’t cooperating.

“Damn it, Jay, how am I supposed to get up if you won’t let go?” He growled hoarsely.

His mouth and throat were dry. His tongue felt like the rug of camel tent, and he really needed to pee.

He finally untangled from long arms and legs, he bolted for the bathroom. He took care of his morning ablutions efficiently before his nursemaids came through the door.

Jensen could see Jared forcing himself to not badger him with questions until after coffee and food.

“What happened, Jen? You’ve been asleep almost 24 hours.” Jared reached out and twined their fingers together. “I don’t think I’ve been so scared.”

Jensen groaned inwardly hoping Jared hadn’t started making phone calls. Last thing he needed right now was a worried Carlson, which in turned caused a worried and pissed Kane because he’d worried Carlson.

“And no, I didn’t call anyone, but I almost.”

“Thank you for that small favor.” Jensen smiled trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah—well—start explain’ or I’m callin’ Steve.” Jared glared and tugged Jensen until he was sprawled against ‘that’ chest again.

“Have you ever heard of ‘The Wild Hunt’?”