Because Patience is sooo not my middle name.
Pop Goes My Heart {J2 | PG | 2150 words}
So there was a writing meme that I saw someone do where you put your music player on shuffle and write a drabble for every song that comes up. This...is kind of that.
Thanks to hkath, memphis86, ignited, loony_moony & one other person who's name I never got for having a write-in that got me to finish this!
I Like Birds - Eels
They're out of Frosted Flakes, for one thing.
Jensen tosses the box into the cart and makes his way down the aisle, snagging a box of Special K for Jared. He flirts with the two-for-one deal on Chips Ahoy momentarily, but decides better of it and shoves the bag back onto the shelf.
He finds Jared in Produce, fondling melons.
"Cantaloupe or honeydew?" Jared says, cutting Jensen off before he can even quip about size or firmness. He settles for staring at the way Jared's fingers wrap around the fruit instead.
"Both, dude," Jensen says. "And get some strawberries. We can afford variety."
"I suppose," Jared says. He places them ever-so-gently in the cart and bumps his hip against Jensen's. "Thanks for braving the Aisle of Temptation for me."
Jensen smiles.
"Anytime, Jay," he says and knows, instantly, that he truly, deeply means it. "Now c'mon. I want steaks and it's your turn to grill."
Dreaming Of Boyz - M.I.A. vs Kate B
Because, seriously, Jensen can be as much of a spaz as Jared can be, so who is he to deny Jared coffee?
"It'll stunt your growth," Jensen says. He clutches his mug close. He'd cradle it like a baby if he could, Jared bets.
Whatever. Jared runs and lifts weights and rolls around with the dogs in the morning, so he doesn't even need caffeine the way Jensen does. It's just - the principle of the thing.
"We'll see how you like it when I close all your vents and let you freeze tonight," Jared says.
Jensen snorts, his mouth hidden by the brim of his cup. "Sadie'll keep me warm," he says. The dog lifts her head from the floor at the sound of her name and Jensen crouches down to scratch behind her ears. "Won't you girl? Yes, yes you will."
"Just because you want to give the dog a bone," Jared says, laughing. Jensen doesn't even bother to stop petting Sadie, just toasts Jared with his mug and tips it back, throat working.
Yeah, so. Jared doesn't really need coffee that badly to feel one hundred percent alive.
Da Ya Think I'm Sexy - Revolting Cocks
When Jensen gets home, Jared's on the floor of the living room, doing crunches. His feet are hooked under the couch, so Jensen steps over them and flops down, his legs bracketing Jared's knees.
"Remind me to email Kripke about what a bastard he is," Jensen says. "And to tell him I hate his face."
"Will do," Jared pants. He's shirtless and Jensen watches as the muscles expand and contract with each repetition. Jensen rubs at his eyes. His contacts are starting to dry out, but the bathroom is so far.
"You'd have made an awesome case study if I'd had stayed in physical therapy," he says, instead. The hair at Jared's temples is dark with sweat, but its obvious the guy's not even pushing to his limit. Jared reaches out and swipes the side of Jensen's knee when he comes off the floor.
"Damn straight," Jared says. He remains bent at the middle and squeezes his fingers around his bellybutton; pinches it and puts on his best Fat Bastard impression. "I'm dead sexy."
Island of the Honest Man - Hot Hot Heat
So, ok. Jared loves playing Sam Winchester, really. He does. But this is flat out embarrassing.
"I'm so glad you find this funny," Jared says. He does his best to convey his annoyance through the mirror to where he can see Jensen bent over damn near double behind him.
Jensen's fingers spasm on the door frame. His laughter rings heavy in Jared's ears and when he finally straightens up, there are fucking tears in his eyes.
"You. I - " Jensen coughs, hard, trying to regain his composure and possibly, the ability to breathe. "You look like you're about to shit a brick."
"Asshole," Jared says. He huffs and spins to face Jensen. "Like you've never done it. I need to have this shit locked down before Tuesday, ok? The last thing I need is Drew making me do this for hours, so. Either help me or get the fuck out."
Jensen's eyes still crinkle around the edges, but he nods softly and plops himself down on the edge of Jared's bed.
"Seriously. You try conveying a fucking Demon Death Glare without looking like a moron." Jared sighs, anger fading. "The Latin was so much easier."
"Easy doesn't pay the bills," Jensen says. He shrugs. "Anyways. You looked pretty damn convincing when you saw me. I'm shakin' in my evil boots."
"Should be, always, bitch," Jared says and shoves Jensen back onto the bed. Surprisingly, Jensen actually does look slightly wide-eyed.
Jared tries not to put much thought into why, but he knows enough to count it as a victory.
Every You Every Me - Placebo
"My head is killing me," Jensen says, once they're bundled into the car; dogs, jackets, iPods and all. He slouches down, his jacket bunching uncomfortably against the small of his back. At least the glass is cool against his temple.
"It's what you get for looking at porn on your laptop all day between takes," Jared quips. It's true enough that Jensen had been checking his email every chance he had, but that was only because his mother kept trying to iron out things for his trip home over the weekend. Cousin Sally would just have to get married during the most stressful shooting week ever.
Jensen blindly flings his arm in Jared's direction. There's a dull thwap as his knuckles rasp against Jared's puffy jacket.
He almost expects Jared to retaliate, if he's honest with himself. Jared pretty much never backs away from a challenge.
Then again, Jared is nothing if not unpredictable.
Jensen finds his wrist caught in the circle of Jared's fingers. He shifts and pulls his head away from the glass to look over. "Jared..."
"Shh," Jared all but whispers. He presses his thumb and forefinger into the web between Jensen's, light pressure as he makes ridiculously slow, tiny circles. Jared's thumb is calloused, slightly, due to the horrific habit he has of licking his thumb to turn pages when they do read-thrus. Jensen can feel every ridge as it drags across his skin; can feel it in his toes.
Jensen yanks his hand away.
"Better?" Jared says. He's not even facing Jensen as he says it.
"Yeah," Jensen says.
His head does hurt less. Some of the ache has slid down into his chest.
I Get Around - Dragonette
Jared's never actually needed a lot of space in his life.
Well, ok. Physical space, sure. He has a tendency to windmill now and again and there was that time that he knocked over this lamp that Sandy loved beyond belief. Jensen had fruitlessly helped him search eBay for two whole weeks before Jared decided to just man up and admit to her what happened upon her next visit. She should have known better than to leave any valuables in his house anyways.
But, point is: Jared's never really needed quiet and peace and lots of space to do what he desires.
So when Jensen flies off for the weekend, Jared's kind of at a loss for what to do with himself. They'd both been discharged from set early in the day - which was nice, for sure - but once Jared has dropped Jensen off at the airport, he comes home to too much silence.
He takes the dogs for a run, even though they'd had one in the morning. Harley can't actually jet around that well anymore, so it's more of an ambling walk and by the time Jared takes a quick shower and settles down on the couch, he's already bored out of his skull.
He calls up some of the guys from the crew, but Theo blows him off with a "Second unit, dude. We don't all get the day off tomorrow," and Hank laughs at him, slightly breathless, upon picking up the phone. "Marital duties call," he all but groans and ew, ok. That was just uncalled for.
It kind of makes Jared itch beneath his skin, though, so he does the only sensible thing he can think of and flops himself down on Jensen's bed to jack off.
Which. Ok, maybe he feels guilty about it for a minute or two, but really? It's his house. Or. Something. His actions are totally justifiable.
So he's totally not wracked with guilt. Truth be told, he's kind of exhausted and the sheets smell of Jensen and are warm and Jared's room is all the way up the stairs. It only makes sense for Jared to tug his shirt over his head, mop up the mess, and burrow his way deeper into Jensen's bed.
Tootsie Roll - 69 boys
"I told you," Jared cries, passionately. "Sugar and I broke up."
"That why you keep sneaking another taste in secret?" Jensen taps the side of his bowl with his spoon, a sharp ting hanging in the air. "For shame, Jared. For shame."
"I didn't eat all your cereal, seriously." Jared slides off the kitchen stool and starts inching towards the sink. Jensen steps in, blocking him.
"You're right," Jensen says. "You left me about a dozen flakes mixed in with your plain ass shit. This ain't my first rodeo, kid. I know all your moves."
Jared doesn't flinch, just keeps on coming. They're practically nose to nose (or, nose to chin, but. Whatever) and Jared is grinning, the fucker.
"You're a retard before your coffee," he says. "Anyways, you've got no proof." Jared waves his mostly empty bowl at Jensen, the milk that remains sloshing around.
"That's what you think." Jensen makes a grab for the bowl and Jared leaps to action, realizing. He tries to lift it out of Jensen's reach and so Jensen attacks, digging his fingers into Jared's armpit.
Stupid idea, of course, as Jared shouts in surprise and tries to close in on himself. The bowl empties right over Jensen's head, milk dribbling down his cheeks, stinging his eyes. He blinks, hard, and shakes in sheer disbelief.
Jared is staring at him, his face unreadable. The edge of the counter top is suddenly digging into Jensen's skin. He licks his lips and coughs.
"Sugar," Jensen croaks out. It's fucking weak and he knows it.
Jared looks down, caught. His laughter takes a little longer than usual to come.
We Belong To The Night - Pat Benatar
"Why can't we use the other set," Jensen says. He rolls his pawn between his fingers, pouting.
"You'd rather lose that way, huh," Jared says. "And 'cuz I'm not letting you ruin the woodwork with your greasy ass fingers."
He nods towards the discarded pizza box shoved onto the side table.
"It's just," Jensen starts. "I'd - "
"Aw, Jen. I know you wanna fondle mini-me. It's ok."
Jensen freezes, chess piece held in mid-air. He studies Jared for a minute, his lips pressed in a tight line.
"If I wanted to fondle you," he says, "I'd just go for the real deal."
Jared looks at Jensen then, like. Really, really looks. His cheeks are flushed, freckles standing out bright and obvious. His eyes are unfocused, unsure, and if Jared has ever been sure of anything himself it's that Jensen is actually speaking the truth.
"No you wouldn't," he says calmly. "Move that piece already, will you?"
Jensen places the pawn down, his eyes never leaving Jared's, not even to look what he's doing. Jared just grins at him, feels his body flush. Knows...
"Checkmate," Jared says, practically in sync with Jensen all but throwing himself over the board. The pieces scatter everywhere, but Jensen is real and solid and pinning Jared to the floor.
"You don't know me," Jensen says and Jared practically laughs in his face, except then Jensen's mouth is on his own and their chests are pressed together and all the air has left the room. Jared threads his fingers around the back of Jensen's neck and opens to him, completely, lets Jensen's lips slot wet and hot across his. Their tongues meet and it's a shock, tip-to-battery in its electricity and Jared's head swims with it. It's so, so right and finally -
Jensen jerks back, face scrunched up, and Jared stares. His fingers clutch possessively at the back of Jensen's tee and it takes a moment for him to realize that Jensen isn't leaving. There's a rush of hot air against Jared's neck and he really does lose it when he sees Harley lick Jensen's ear.
He must lose his mind, actually, because when he feels Jensen shudder against him, Jared knocks the dog away and leans up, closing his mouth over the very same spot. He bites down, gently, and Jensen does that shuddering thing again.
"Jared," Jensen groans. "That's. Dude, you're fucking disgusting."
"And you love it," Jared whispers against Jensen's skin.
Jensen doesn't really say much after that.
So there was a writing meme that I saw someone do where you put your music player on shuffle and write a drabble for every song that comes up. This...is kind of that.
Thanks to hkath, memphis86, ignited, loony_moony & one other person who's name I never got for having a write-in that got me to finish this!
I Like Birds - Eels
They're out of Frosted Flakes, for one thing.
Jensen tosses the box into the cart and makes his way down the aisle, snagging a box of Special K for Jared. He flirts with the two-for-one deal on Chips Ahoy momentarily, but decides better of it and shoves the bag back onto the shelf.
He finds Jared in Produce, fondling melons.
"Cantaloupe or honeydew?" Jared says, cutting Jensen off before he can even quip about size or firmness. He settles for staring at the way Jared's fingers wrap around the fruit instead.
"Both, dude," Jensen says. "And get some strawberries. We can afford variety."
"I suppose," Jared says. He places them ever-so-gently in the cart and bumps his hip against Jensen's. "Thanks for braving the Aisle of Temptation for me."
Jensen smiles.
"Anytime, Jay," he says and knows, instantly, that he truly, deeply means it. "Now c'mon. I want steaks and it's your turn to grill."
Dreaming Of Boyz - M.I.A. vs Kate B
Because, seriously, Jensen can be as much of a spaz as Jared can be, so who is he to deny Jared coffee?
"It'll stunt your growth," Jensen says. He clutches his mug close. He'd cradle it like a baby if he could, Jared bets.
Whatever. Jared runs and lifts weights and rolls around with the dogs in the morning, so he doesn't even need caffeine the way Jensen does. It's just - the principle of the thing.
"We'll see how you like it when I close all your vents and let you freeze tonight," Jared says.
Jensen snorts, his mouth hidden by the brim of his cup. "Sadie'll keep me warm," he says. The dog lifts her head from the floor at the sound of her name and Jensen crouches down to scratch behind her ears. "Won't you girl? Yes, yes you will."
"Just because you want to give the dog a bone," Jared says, laughing. Jensen doesn't even bother to stop petting Sadie, just toasts Jared with his mug and tips it back, throat working.
Yeah, so. Jared doesn't really need coffee that badly to feel one hundred percent alive.
Da Ya Think I'm Sexy - Revolting Cocks
When Jensen gets home, Jared's on the floor of the living room, doing crunches. His feet are hooked under the couch, so Jensen steps over them and flops down, his legs bracketing Jared's knees.
"Remind me to email Kripke about what a bastard he is," Jensen says. "And to tell him I hate his face."
"Will do," Jared pants. He's shirtless and Jensen watches as the muscles expand and contract with each repetition. Jensen rubs at his eyes. His contacts are starting to dry out, but the bathroom is so far.
"You'd have made an awesome case study if I'd had stayed in physical therapy," he says, instead. The hair at Jared's temples is dark with sweat, but its obvious the guy's not even pushing to his limit. Jared reaches out and swipes the side of Jensen's knee when he comes off the floor.
"Damn straight," Jared says. He remains bent at the middle and squeezes his fingers around his bellybutton; pinches it and puts on his best Fat Bastard impression. "I'm dead sexy."
Island of the Honest Man - Hot Hot Heat
So, ok. Jared loves playing Sam Winchester, really. He does. But this is flat out embarrassing.
"I'm so glad you find this funny," Jared says. He does his best to convey his annoyance through the mirror to where he can see Jensen bent over damn near double behind him.
Jensen's fingers spasm on the door frame. His laughter rings heavy in Jared's ears and when he finally straightens up, there are fucking tears in his eyes.
"You. I - " Jensen coughs, hard, trying to regain his composure and possibly, the ability to breathe. "You look like you're about to shit a brick."
"Asshole," Jared says. He huffs and spins to face Jensen. "Like you've never done it. I need to have this shit locked down before Tuesday, ok? The last thing I need is Drew making me do this for hours, so. Either help me or get the fuck out."
Jensen's eyes still crinkle around the edges, but he nods softly and plops himself down on the edge of Jared's bed.
"Seriously. You try conveying a fucking Demon Death Glare without looking like a moron." Jared sighs, anger fading. "The Latin was so much easier."
"Easy doesn't pay the bills," Jensen says. He shrugs. "Anyways. You looked pretty damn convincing when you saw me. I'm shakin' in my evil boots."
"Should be, always, bitch," Jared says and shoves Jensen back onto the bed. Surprisingly, Jensen actually does look slightly wide-eyed.
Jared tries not to put much thought into why, but he knows enough to count it as a victory.
Every You Every Me - Placebo
"My head is killing me," Jensen says, once they're bundled into the car; dogs, jackets, iPods and all. He slouches down, his jacket bunching uncomfortably against the small of his back. At least the glass is cool against his temple.
"It's what you get for looking at porn on your laptop all day between takes," Jared quips. It's true enough that Jensen had been checking his email every chance he had, but that was only because his mother kept trying to iron out things for his trip home over the weekend. Cousin Sally would just have to get married during the most stressful shooting week ever.
Jensen blindly flings his arm in Jared's direction. There's a dull thwap as his knuckles rasp against Jared's puffy jacket.
He almost expects Jared to retaliate, if he's honest with himself. Jared pretty much never backs away from a challenge.
Then again, Jared is nothing if not unpredictable.
Jensen finds his wrist caught in the circle of Jared's fingers. He shifts and pulls his head away from the glass to look over. "Jared..."
"Shh," Jared all but whispers. He presses his thumb and forefinger into the web between Jensen's, light pressure as he makes ridiculously slow, tiny circles. Jared's thumb is calloused, slightly, due to the horrific habit he has of licking his thumb to turn pages when they do read-thrus. Jensen can feel every ridge as it drags across his skin; can feel it in his toes.
Jensen yanks his hand away.
"Better?" Jared says. He's not even facing Jensen as he says it.
"Yeah," Jensen says.
His head does hurt less. Some of the ache has slid down into his chest.
I Get Around - Dragonette
Jared's never actually needed a lot of space in his life.
Well, ok. Physical space, sure. He has a tendency to windmill now and again and there was that time that he knocked over this lamp that Sandy loved beyond belief. Jensen had fruitlessly helped him search eBay for two whole weeks before Jared decided to just man up and admit to her what happened upon her next visit. She should have known better than to leave any valuables in his house anyways.
But, point is: Jared's never really needed quiet and peace and lots of space to do what he desires.
So when Jensen flies off for the weekend, Jared's kind of at a loss for what to do with himself. They'd both been discharged from set early in the day - which was nice, for sure - but once Jared has dropped Jensen off at the airport, he comes home to too much silence.
He takes the dogs for a run, even though they'd had one in the morning. Harley can't actually jet around that well anymore, so it's more of an ambling walk and by the time Jared takes a quick shower and settles down on the couch, he's already bored out of his skull.
He calls up some of the guys from the crew, but Theo blows him off with a "Second unit, dude. We don't all get the day off tomorrow," and Hank laughs at him, slightly breathless, upon picking up the phone. "Marital duties call," he all but groans and ew, ok. That was just uncalled for.
It kind of makes Jared itch beneath his skin, though, so he does the only sensible thing he can think of and flops himself down on Jensen's bed to jack off.
Which. Ok, maybe he feels guilty about it for a minute or two, but really? It's his house. Or. Something. His actions are totally justifiable.
So he's totally not wracked with guilt. Truth be told, he's kind of exhausted and the sheets smell of Jensen and are warm and Jared's room is all the way up the stairs. It only makes sense for Jared to tug his shirt over his head, mop up the mess, and burrow his way deeper into Jensen's bed.
Tootsie Roll - 69 boys
"I told you," Jared cries, passionately. "Sugar and I broke up."
"That why you keep sneaking another taste in secret?" Jensen taps the side of his bowl with his spoon, a sharp ting hanging in the air. "For shame, Jared. For shame."
"I didn't eat all your cereal, seriously." Jared slides off the kitchen stool and starts inching towards the sink. Jensen steps in, blocking him.
"You're right," Jensen says. "You left me about a dozen flakes mixed in with your plain ass shit. This ain't my first rodeo, kid. I know all your moves."
Jared doesn't flinch, just keeps on coming. They're practically nose to nose (or, nose to chin, but. Whatever) and Jared is grinning, the fucker.
"You're a retard before your coffee," he says. "Anyways, you've got no proof." Jared waves his mostly empty bowl at Jensen, the milk that remains sloshing around.
"That's what you think." Jensen makes a grab for the bowl and Jared leaps to action, realizing. He tries to lift it out of Jensen's reach and so Jensen attacks, digging his fingers into Jared's armpit.
Stupid idea, of course, as Jared shouts in surprise and tries to close in on himself. The bowl empties right over Jensen's head, milk dribbling down his cheeks, stinging his eyes. He blinks, hard, and shakes in sheer disbelief.
Jared is staring at him, his face unreadable. The edge of the counter top is suddenly digging into Jensen's skin. He licks his lips and coughs.
"Sugar," Jensen croaks out. It's fucking weak and he knows it.
Jared looks down, caught. His laughter takes a little longer than usual to come.
We Belong To The Night - Pat Benatar
"Why can't we use the other set," Jensen says. He rolls his pawn between his fingers, pouting.
"You'd rather lose that way, huh," Jared says. "And 'cuz I'm not letting you ruin the woodwork with your greasy ass fingers."
He nods towards the discarded pizza box shoved onto the side table.
"It's just," Jensen starts. "I'd - "
"Aw, Jen. I know you wanna fondle mini-me. It's ok."
Jensen freezes, chess piece held in mid-air. He studies Jared for a minute, his lips pressed in a tight line.
"If I wanted to fondle you," he says, "I'd just go for the real deal."
Jared looks at Jensen then, like. Really, really looks. His cheeks are flushed, freckles standing out bright and obvious. His eyes are unfocused, unsure, and if Jared has ever been sure of anything himself it's that Jensen is actually speaking the truth.
"No you wouldn't," he says calmly. "Move that piece already, will you?"
Jensen places the pawn down, his eyes never leaving Jared's, not even to look what he's doing. Jared just grins at him, feels his body flush. Knows...
"Checkmate," Jared says, practically in sync with Jensen all but throwing himself over the board. The pieces scatter everywhere, but Jensen is real and solid and pinning Jared to the floor.
"You don't know me," Jensen says and Jared practically laughs in his face, except then Jensen's mouth is on his own and their chests are pressed together and all the air has left the room. Jared threads his fingers around the back of Jensen's neck and opens to him, completely, lets Jensen's lips slot wet and hot across his. Their tongues meet and it's a shock, tip-to-battery in its electricity and Jared's head swims with it. It's so, so right and finally -
Jensen jerks back, face scrunched up, and Jared stares. His fingers clutch possessively at the back of Jensen's tee and it takes a moment for him to realize that Jensen isn't leaving. There's a rush of hot air against Jared's neck and he really does lose it when he sees Harley lick Jensen's ear.
He must lose his mind, actually, because when he feels Jensen shudder against him, Jared knocks the dog away and leans up, closing his mouth over the very same spot. He bites down, gently, and Jensen does that shuddering thing again.
"Jared," Jensen groans. "That's. Dude, you're fucking disgusting."
"And you love it," Jared whispers against Jensen's skin.
Jensen doesn't really say much after that.