Right from the get go, before there had been talk of moving in or sleeping together, or even sharing the same personal bubble, there had been a memo from Jensen to Jared tacked to the mirror in their make up trailer.

I like my sleep.

Now like any good co-star, Jared had taken that as an invitation to wake Jensen up at six am on the first Saturday they had off.

Jensen had thrown an alarm clock at him with outstanding accuracy; no glasses, no contacts, and bam right in the middle of Jared's chest from clean across the room. Then he'd promptly rolled over and gone back to sleep.

Many things though Jared might be, slow wasn't one of them.

Hit him with an alarm clock once, and he could blame Jensen's extreme anti-social moodswings. Hit him with an alarm clock twice, and well, Jared was just plain stupid.

And he wasn't, not when it came to matters of Jensen and sleep.

Even now, four years down the line, if anything woke Jensen up before noon and he wasn't needed on set, Jared could be guaranteed a long, miserable day.

Scarily enough, that included being woken up for blowjobs.

Jensen was a strange, strange man.

A strange man Jared was ass over non-existant-completely-metaphorical tits for. So he was a Good Boyfriend and let Jensen sleep in. He said so to Jensen numerous times, because being a Good Boyfriend won him awesome rewards, like those aforementioned blowjobs, and usually the odd cookie or two. Jensen hadn't so much as humored him but laughed in his face; clearly he was under no illusions that he was in fact an ogre first thing in the morning (or any time in the morning, for that matter) and saw Jared's actions for what they were: an act of self preservation.

So Good Boyfriend or not, Jared was uber sneaky when it came to getting out of bed in a morning. Jensen was something of a clingy guy to share a bed with, going to sleep in a nice, regular way with his limbs neatly tucked to his side, and somewhere in the night turning into The Great Bed Hog. He'd end up sprawled out across the mattress, and Jared, and anything else that happened to stand between him and his snoozing rituals.

It took a great deal of dexterity and strength to untangle himself from Jensen in a morning. Despite mens magazines speculating on the need for him to work out eight hours a day, Jared adamantly protested that he did so in fact just to handle Jensen in bed. Be they sleeping or, you know, not.

Jensen went through the same process every single time. He snuffled, his face creasing into a pout as his human teddy bear vanished, before curling himself around his pillow.

Jared would then use the distraction to run to the closet, grab his work out gear and bound down the stairs, confident that Jensen had slept through his departure, and the world would not end any time before breakfast.

He'd go for a run, feed the dogs, take a shower, and either hit the gym in the room that had used to be Jensen's, or crawl back in bed and read until Jensen's internal clock told him that everyone else in the world was awake, and he should perhaps just think about joining them in the next hour or two.

Today he opted for the reading. He'd finished the novel Jensen had bought him the last time he was at Chapters, and the one his mom had sent him…and the four he had borrowed from various crew members. He still had the latest issue of DogFancy to read, and wisely chose to read it whilst Jensen was too busy snoring to mock him. He tied his bangs up in a loose ponytail and settled back against his pillows to read.

Sadie plodded up from the kitchen and walked around the bed. She spared Jared no attention, which was rich, given that he was the guy with the magazine full of toys, and plopped her head next to Jensen's pillow.

"I wouldn't." Jared warned her. "You remember what happened last time?"

Sadie shot him a disdainful look.

The last time Harley had decided to pounce on Jensen when Jared was in the shower. There had been a god almighty howl, a thud, and Jared had skidded ass naked and dripping into the bedroom to find Jensen on his ass, petting Harley and apologizing for tossing them both from the bed.

"Alright. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Sadie licked Jensen's elbow and ignored Jared's good advice.

It was half past eight - not even close to an hour when waking Jensen up wouldn't trigger a nuclear holocaust.

Jensen snuffled and clung tighter to his pillow as Sadie began to tug on it with her teeth. "Jare…" He whined, and Jared just knew that one way or another, this would end up being his fault.

Jared reached over and stroked his naked back. "Back to sleep, Jensen." He soothed, shooting Sadie a desperate look. "There's a steak in it for you if you go back down stairs."

He'd bribed two construction workers to not drill outside their window at seven am last year; he wasn't above the same with his babies.

Sadie looked up at him appraisingly. "Two?" Jared tried. "Each?"

Jensen snuffled again and either the promise of food won her over, or it suddenly dawned on her that a pissy Jensen meant a pouty Jared, and a pouty Jared meant no extra treats.

She licked Jensen's arm again, this time more in the way a bitch would do with her pups, and turned tail back to the stairs.

Jared breathed a sigh of relief and promised himself he would tease Jensen for being covered with dog slobber as soon as he had made them both coffee.

Crisis successfully adverted, Jared settled into a satisfied sense of accomplishment. He finished his magazine, and contemplated settling back down under the covers until Jensen woke up. He could wrap himself up around Jensen's back and entertain himself with all the ways they could celebrate another successful weekend lie in.

He'd just snuggled under the mountain of sheets when the phone besides the bed suddenly rang.

Jensen was up like a shot, belting Jared in the face with one flailing arm. He was wide awake, and snatching up the phone before Jared could gather the wits to pout.

A beat of silence. Then came the inevitable, "I'm going to rip your balls off and feed them to you!" and Jared hoped to God it wasn't Kripke on the other end. He liked being employed.

Whomever it was, Jared hated them just a little.

But he did hope Jensen managed to rant at whoever was stupid enough to call them, and forget to be grumpy with Jared.

Luck didn't seem to be on his side. Jensen hung up the phone with a muttered 'I hate fucking Misha', and whilst they weren't in danger of getting fired, Jared's perfect morning hadn't quite gone to plan.

Jensen flopped down on the bed with a huff, and Jared dared to lean over and peer into his face for a sign of the impending apocalypse.

Jensen glared at him, thoroughly put out, and Jared resigned himself to dancing around Hurricane Jensen all day, at least until Jensen's scowl melted, and he burst into barely stifled giggles. "What the fuck do you have in your hair?" He snorted.

Jared frowned, completely perplexed, and patted the top of his head in confusion. His fingers met the tie he had used to pull his bangs back, and he broke into a grin to rival Jensen's.

"You like? I'm thinking it will be Sam's Season Five style."

"By all means. Anything to make me look ten times hotter than you do." Jensen rolled his eyes and prodded at the ponytail. He suddenly frowned at his elbow. "Jared, did you drool on me?"

Jared buried his own giggle behind his hand and shook his head.

Like he said: some news was better shared after coffee.

Lots of coffee.