[hugh/jennifer] and the bride blushes bright pink
Title: and the bride blushes bright pink
Fandom: rpf (real person fic)
Characters: hugh laurie, jennifer morrison, jesse spencer, etc, hugh/jennifer, hints of jesse/jennifer
Word Count: 1,395
Rating: nc-17
Spoilers: none. ♥
Summary: And then Jesse shakes his head, and sighs. "Women and their weddings."
For fated_addiction. ILU, darling. *grins* Thanks for forcing me to write all of this loveliness. And once again, YOUR TURN!
and the bride blushes bright pink
three weeks.
She’s looking at bridal magazines as they sit at the wooden table for the episode read through.
Robert notices this, and nudges Hugh with his elbow. When he turns to him, Robert rolls his eyes (more than is necessary, Hugh thinks) and says, “Isn’t there a more appropriate time for her to be doing that?”
Hugh thinks that Robert’s being too harsh on her. He watches as she flips through the pages lazily, her eyes scanning and studying and every now and then a sigh escapes her lips. He knows how gruelling their schedule can be; how hard it is to find five spare minutes in a day. And yet -- he can’t help but agree. It’s time for work, now.
(He tells himself it’s because he’s a professional, and that work time is for work. It’s not because the idea of her in a dress like that -- white and flowing and sparkling and ohgod -- makes his stomach knot and his lungs ache.)
ten days.
He sits in his trailer, smoothing his fingers along the gold lettering of the invitation.
David and Judy Morrison request the honour of your presence at the marriage of their daughter, Jennifer Marie Morrison, to Jesse Gordon Spencer, son of Dr Rodney and Robyn Spencer.
The words read bitterly in his head, and when he tries to write his reply, his hands shake.
reply number one. Mr Hugh Laurie regrets that he is unable to attend the very kind invitation to Jesse and Jennifer’s wedding.
reply number two. Mr Hugh Laurie accepts with pleasure the kind invitation to Jesse and Jennifer’s wedding.
reply number three Mr Hugh Laurie reluctantly acccepts with pain pleasure the kind invitation to Jesse and ohgodohgod she’s actually doing this Jennifer’s wedding.
After he posts the card in the mail, he calls his wife and kids. He wants this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach to disappear.
They’re not home and the answering machine picks up. Hi! You’ve reached Jo and the kids. We’re not home at the moment, but please leave a message and we’ll get back to you!
He hangs up before the message finishes playing.
three days.
It’s between scenes, and Hugh grabs a bottle of water from the table, drinking it down greedily. It’s late (must be nearly eleven pm, by now? they’ve been shooting for hours and hours) and he’s absolutely wiped.
He takes a seat as Bryan and Katie speak to Lisa and Robert. They must be talking about the next scene, because they’re both gesturing excitedly and speaking a mile a minute and Robert and Lisa just keep nodding. Hugh watches them for a moment not because he’s got nothing better to do, he’s just tired, alright? when something catches his attention.
Jennifer. And Jesse. In the corner of the set, talking. But.. there’s a frown on her face and a look of puzzlement on his and something’s happening here and Hugh knows he should look away.
He keeps watching.
She throws her arms up, shaking her head. Jesse leans in, places a hand on her shoulder but she shrugs him off, glares at him icily before storming off.
Jesse stands there for a moment, watching her retreating form before his gaze meets Hugh’s. He walks towards him, his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders slumped (just a little).
He stops for a moment, and looks as though he might start confessing the entire story. Hugh really doesn’t want to hear it. He really doesn’t.
And then Jesse shakes his head, and sighs. “Women and their weddings.” He looks towards the exit; Jen long gone. “I think she’ll kill me before we say ‘I do’. I can’t seem to do anything right at the moment. You know what I’m talking about, right?”
Hugh nods and makes all the appropriate noises. He thinks he might need to lie down for a while, because his head has started to throb and fuck, he feels sick.
But before he can get the words excuse me, i’m not feeling so well out of his mouth, Jesse pats him on the shoulder as he walks past him, his voice soft.
“I don’t know why we let them torture us like this.”
Hugh thinks you don’t know the half of it, boy.
tomorrow is the big day.
It’s 11:09pm and the ring of his cell phone startles him. He moves from the couch, pressing pause on the television remote (he can’t miss what happens next -- it’s when Emma Thompson finds out that Alan Rickman has been cheating on her -- god, he loves this movie) and searches his coat pockets for his phone.
He fumbles slightly, pressing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
There’s static, and then an inhale of breath. His stomach twists. “Hugh. I - I’m sorry to call so late I just --”
“What’s wrong, Jennifer? Are you alright?”
She pauses, and he hears a sniff. Her voice breaks. “Can I see you?”
twelve hours and counting.
When he opens the door and sees her standing in his doorway, small and fragile and tears in her eyes, he thinks that he should feel more uncomfortable than he does.
She steps inside quietly, her hands folded together. She sniffs and looks up at him from underneath her lashes and says, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He sighs, and guides her to the couch. He sits her down, and sits opposite her on the coffee table. Their knees are touching, and he tries to brush aside the heat that radiates from her skin. He curls a hand around her wrist, his thumb smoothing in circles.
“I’m getting married tomorrow. And I should be ecstatic, right? I should be squealing with my friends about how beautiful my hair is going to look and how handsome my husband will be in his tux and how amazing it will be to hear the priest say ‘Mr and Mrs Spencer’ and how fun it will be to dance our first dance as husband and wife but... but --” and she chokes back a sob and blinks and he can see that she’s trying not to let the tears fall.
He clears his throat and struggles to find something to say. He searches, and searches. And he can’t think of anything comforting.
“It’s the night before your wedding. You’re bound to get some jitters. It’s natural.”
She breathes slowly, deeply. Her eyes are to the floor, but she carefully curls her fingers around his.
“I think I might be making a mistake,” she murmurs, and he can taste his heart in his throat. And she looks up, meets his eyes. “Do you think I’m making a mistake?”
Yes, he wants to scream. Yes, YES YOU ARE! I need you to be single and carefree and mine. But instead he swallows heavily and says (as convincingly as he can), “No.”
Jennifer leans forward and presses her lips to his. In a second, a split second, he’s kissing her back and his hands are sliding into her hair and she digs her nails into his shoulders.
There’s a long sigh that escapes him here, somewhere, and when they pull away from each other, she licks her lips and whispers, “Liar.”
it’s almost morning.
When his cock slides into her, she lifts her head and stares at him, eyes wide. He thinks that maybe, maybe this is it and he braces himself for the “no, no we can’t”. But he stares back and pushes in further, harder, deeper and she closes her eyes and her breath catches and she rocks her hips against him.
She moans his name when she comes, and he’s never heard a sweeter sound. He pretends he wasn’t holding his breath, waiting to hear if she would get his name right.
here comes the bride.
It was a beautiful ceremony, he thinks to himself as he leaves the reception hall alone, the sound of ‘When a man loves a woman’ and the image of a (too) white dress at his back.
It really was.
Fandom: rpf (real person fic)
Characters: hugh laurie, jennifer morrison, jesse spencer, etc, hugh/jennifer, hints of jesse/jennifer
Word Count: 1,395
Rating: nc-17
Spoilers: none. ♥
Summary: And then Jesse shakes his head, and sighs. "Women and their weddings."
For fated_addiction. ILU, darling. *grins* Thanks for forcing me to write all of this loveliness. And once again, YOUR TURN!
and the bride blushes bright pink
three weeks.
She’s looking at bridal magazines as they sit at the wooden table for the episode read through.
Robert notices this, and nudges Hugh with his elbow. When he turns to him, Robert rolls his eyes (more than is necessary, Hugh thinks) and says, “Isn’t there a more appropriate time for her to be doing that?”
Hugh thinks that Robert’s being too harsh on her. He watches as she flips through the pages lazily, her eyes scanning and studying and every now and then a sigh escapes her lips. He knows how gruelling their schedule can be; how hard it is to find five spare minutes in a day. And yet -- he can’t help but agree. It’s time for work, now.
(He tells himself it’s because he’s a professional, and that work time is for work. It’s not because the idea of her in a dress like that -- white and flowing and sparkling and ohgod -- makes his stomach knot and his lungs ache.)
ten days.
He sits in his trailer, smoothing his fingers along the gold lettering of the invitation.
David and Judy Morrison request the honour of your presence at the marriage of their daughter, Jennifer Marie Morrison, to Jesse Gordon Spencer, son of Dr Rodney and Robyn Spencer.
The words read bitterly in his head, and when he tries to write his reply, his hands shake.
reply number one. Mr Hugh Laurie regrets that he is unable to attend the very kind invitation to Jesse and Jennifer’s wedding.
reply number two. Mr Hugh Laurie accepts with pleasure the kind invitation to Jesse and Jennifer’s wedding.
reply number three Mr Hugh Laurie reluctantly acccepts with pain pleasure the kind invitation to Jesse and ohgodohgod she’s actually doing this Jennifer’s wedding.
After he posts the card in the mail, he calls his wife and kids. He wants this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach to disappear.
They’re not home and the answering machine picks up. Hi! You’ve reached Jo and the kids. We’re not home at the moment, but please leave a message and we’ll get back to you!
He hangs up before the message finishes playing.
three days.
It’s between scenes, and Hugh grabs a bottle of water from the table, drinking it down greedily. It’s late (must be nearly eleven pm, by now? they’ve been shooting for hours and hours) and he’s absolutely wiped.
He takes a seat as Bryan and Katie speak to Lisa and Robert. They must be talking about the next scene, because they’re both gesturing excitedly and speaking a mile a minute and Robert and Lisa just keep nodding. Hugh watches them for a moment not because he’s got nothing better to do, he’s just tired, alright? when something catches his attention.
Jennifer. And Jesse. In the corner of the set, talking. But.. there’s a frown on her face and a look of puzzlement on his and something’s happening here and Hugh knows he should look away.
He keeps watching.
She throws her arms up, shaking her head. Jesse leans in, places a hand on her shoulder but she shrugs him off, glares at him icily before storming off.
Jesse stands there for a moment, watching her retreating form before his gaze meets Hugh’s. He walks towards him, his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders slumped (just a little).
He stops for a moment, and looks as though he might start confessing the entire story. Hugh really doesn’t want to hear it. He really doesn’t.
And then Jesse shakes his head, and sighs. “Women and their weddings.” He looks towards the exit; Jen long gone. “I think she’ll kill me before we say ‘I do’. I can’t seem to do anything right at the moment. You know what I’m talking about, right?”
Hugh nods and makes all the appropriate noises. He thinks he might need to lie down for a while, because his head has started to throb and fuck, he feels sick.
But before he can get the words excuse me, i’m not feeling so well out of his mouth, Jesse pats him on the shoulder as he walks past him, his voice soft.
“I don’t know why we let them torture us like this.”
Hugh thinks you don’t know the half of it, boy.
tomorrow is the big day.
It’s 11:09pm and the ring of his cell phone startles him. He moves from the couch, pressing pause on the television remote (he can’t miss what happens next -- it’s when Emma Thompson finds out that Alan Rickman has been cheating on her -- god, he loves this movie) and searches his coat pockets for his phone.
He fumbles slightly, pressing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
There’s static, and then an inhale of breath. His stomach twists. “Hugh. I - I’m sorry to call so late I just --”
“What’s wrong, Jennifer? Are you alright?”
She pauses, and he hears a sniff. Her voice breaks. “Can I see you?”
twelve hours and counting.
When he opens the door and sees her standing in his doorway, small and fragile and tears in her eyes, he thinks that he should feel more uncomfortable than he does.
She steps inside quietly, her hands folded together. She sniffs and looks up at him from underneath her lashes and says, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He sighs, and guides her to the couch. He sits her down, and sits opposite her on the coffee table. Their knees are touching, and he tries to brush aside the heat that radiates from her skin. He curls a hand around her wrist, his thumb smoothing in circles.
“I’m getting married tomorrow. And I should be ecstatic, right? I should be squealing with my friends about how beautiful my hair is going to look and how handsome my husband will be in his tux and how amazing it will be to hear the priest say ‘Mr and Mrs Spencer’ and how fun it will be to dance our first dance as husband and wife but... but --” and she chokes back a sob and blinks and he can see that she’s trying not to let the tears fall.
He clears his throat and struggles to find something to say. He searches, and searches. And he can’t think of anything comforting.
“It’s the night before your wedding. You’re bound to get some jitters. It’s natural.”
She breathes slowly, deeply. Her eyes are to the floor, but she carefully curls her fingers around his.
“I think I might be making a mistake,” she murmurs, and he can taste his heart in his throat. And she looks up, meets his eyes. “Do you think I’m making a mistake?”
Yes, he wants to scream. Yes, YES YOU ARE! I need you to be single and carefree and mine. But instead he swallows heavily and says (as convincingly as he can), “No.”
Jennifer leans forward and presses her lips to his. In a second, a split second, he’s kissing her back and his hands are sliding into her hair and she digs her nails into his shoulders.
There’s a long sigh that escapes him here, somewhere, and when they pull away from each other, she licks her lips and whispers, “Liar.”
it’s almost morning.
When his cock slides into her, she lifts her head and stares at him, eyes wide. He thinks that maybe, maybe this is it and he braces himself for the “no, no we can’t”. But he stares back and pushes in further, harder, deeper and she closes her eyes and her breath catches and she rocks her hips against him.
She moans his name when she comes, and he’s never heard a sweeter sound. He pretends he wasn’t holding his breath, waiting to hear if she would get his name right.
here comes the bride.
It was a beautiful ceremony, he thinks to himself as he leaves the reception hall alone, the sound of ‘When a man loves a woman’ and the image of a (too) white dress at his back.
It really was.