Player Number Two Timestamp!
Yet Another Costume
900 words, PG
Thanksgiving timestamp to Player Number Two for amindaya from the holiday timestamp post :D
“I think you may have a problem,” Jensen says when he leans against the empty side of the booth. “You should probably see someone about it.”
Jared puts the menu down and slowly looks up, speaking evenly. “I swear, this one is not my fault.”
Jensen takes his time to look over Jared dressed normally from the waist-down, but waist-up is a problem. He has on a nice, brown looking sweater, sure, but then there’s a two-sizes-too-small fake leather vest adorned with cheesy fringe, a construction-paper headband with multi-colored paper feathers flipping out the back, and face paint. God, the colors of paint across Jared’s cheeks, forehead, and down his nose are ridiculous.
“You’re telling me,” Jensen asks with a tilt of his head, “That someone made you dress like that and come down here at gunpoint?”
Jared nods. “Yes, exactly.”
Jensen keeps a dead look on his face as he stares at Jared and awaits further explanation.
“There were cowboys,” Jared says. “Little, tiny cowboys who wanted a real Thanksgiving and pointed their little guns at me and told me to be an Indian and serve them turkey and stuffin’ muffins.”
“Stuffin’ muffins?”
“Yeah, stuffing in muffin tins,” Jared says gravely. “They’re all crispy and delicious.”
He laughs, he can’t help it, because Jared sounds so serious (and ridiculous) right now. He’s about to plant himself across from Jared and listen to the whole story, but he has other tables waiting on drinks and food, so he just shakes his head and smiles. “You want something to drink?”
“I want a lot of somethings to drink. But I’ll take a Coke for now.”
Jensen heads off to place orders, pick up the ones waiting under the heat lamp, and fill Jared’s pop. It’s not terribly busy in the diner really, but he’s the only server on duty for Thanksgiving and he’s not about to prolong the holiday for the patrons who are here. He drops off a few plates of the turkey special, checks on the young couple in the corner with a newborn, and brings Jared his soda.
“So, what’s your order?” Jensne asks, taking his order pad out of his server’s apron.
“I’m stuffed, actually,” Jared replies, rubbing at his stomach.
Jensen glances around the place before furrowing his brow at Jared. “Then, you’re here because …”
“Because I knew you were on your own for T-Day, and we can’t have that happening.”
“I’m not totally alone,” Jensen says quickly.
“You said you had to work instead of going to your parents’. That you were gonna miss the whole shebang.”
Jensen opens his mouth to defend the scenario, to make it sound less pathetic, but Jared cuts him off.
“I guess my order is for you to sit with me for ten minutes,” Jared says with an easy smile. “But I don’t seen that on the menu.”
It makes Jensen smile, too, and he’s no longer up for excusing anything away.
“Please?” Jared smiles with him. “You really gonna turn away an easy tip?”
“Fifteen percent?”
“Twenty, and maybe later I’ll give you a bonus, too.”
Jensen smirks and knocks at the top of the table. “Okay. Gimme a few minutes for my tables.”
With one last loop around the restaurant, he closes out a couple checks, stops at the young family in the corner and leaves them with the last two plates of pumpkin pie, then heads back to the kitchen.
“What other pie do you have left?” he asks Jim, the cook.
“Chocolate cream, strawberry rhubarb, and apple.” Jensen smacks his lips in thought and Jim looks through the kitchen window to the dining room, right at Jared, and smiles. “I’ve got a sliver of custard left, if you’re looking to impress.”
Jensen smiles and looks away. “Yeah, that’ll be fine.”
“Five minutes and it’ll be dressed up like the Macy’s parade. If you can stand to wait that long,” he jokes.
“Just do it already,” Jensen mumbles, trying like hell to ignore the flare of excitement over doing something special for Jared. He figures the guy deserves it after skipping out early on his family’s meal to come down and keep him company, not to mention staying dressed like something out of the Village People. Which, was likely all at the hands of little nieces and nephews that Jared always grins about and is never able to let down.
It takes nearly ten minutes, but when it’s ready, Jensen’s setting a plate of warm custard pie on the table, dressed in cranberry-blueberry topping and accompanied by a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Jared’s eyes bug out at the dessert and Jensen realizes the paper headband is off and the make-up is smeared away.
“Dude, I don’t know. I thought the face paint really tied the whole get-up together,” Jensen says with a smirk.
Jared grimaces. “It was getting all itchy.”
Jensen smiles and nudges the custard closer to Jared. “Dig in.”
“No, seriously,” Jared says gravely. “I’m stuffed to the gills.”
Jensen pulls two spoons out of his apron and holds them in the space between he and Jared. “Are you really gonna turn me down here?” He shakes the spoons then whirls them in the air. “I’ll rub your stuffed turkey belly when we’re done.”
Jared’s mouth opens then he bites his lip in thought until he finally sighs with a smile. “Man, you drive a hard bargain.”
900 words, PG
Thanksgiving timestamp to Player Number Two for amindaya from the holiday timestamp post :D
“I think you may have a problem,” Jensen says when he leans against the empty side of the booth. “You should probably see someone about it.”
Jared puts the menu down and slowly looks up, speaking evenly. “I swear, this one is not my fault.”
Jensen takes his time to look over Jared dressed normally from the waist-down, but waist-up is a problem. He has on a nice, brown looking sweater, sure, but then there’s a two-sizes-too-small fake leather vest adorned with cheesy fringe, a construction-paper headband with multi-colored paper feathers flipping out the back, and face paint. God, the colors of paint across Jared’s cheeks, forehead, and down his nose are ridiculous.
“You’re telling me,” Jensen asks with a tilt of his head, “That someone made you dress like that and come down here at gunpoint?”
Jared nods. “Yes, exactly.”
Jensen keeps a dead look on his face as he stares at Jared and awaits further explanation.
“There were cowboys,” Jared says. “Little, tiny cowboys who wanted a real Thanksgiving and pointed their little guns at me and told me to be an Indian and serve them turkey and stuffin’ muffins.”
“Stuffin’ muffins?”
“Yeah, stuffing in muffin tins,” Jared says gravely. “They’re all crispy and delicious.”
He laughs, he can’t help it, because Jared sounds so serious (and ridiculous) right now. He’s about to plant himself across from Jared and listen to the whole story, but he has other tables waiting on drinks and food, so he just shakes his head and smiles. “You want something to drink?”
“I want a lot of somethings to drink. But I’ll take a Coke for now.”
Jensen heads off to place orders, pick up the ones waiting under the heat lamp, and fill Jared’s pop. It’s not terribly busy in the diner really, but he’s the only server on duty for Thanksgiving and he’s not about to prolong the holiday for the patrons who are here. He drops off a few plates of the turkey special, checks on the young couple in the corner with a newborn, and brings Jared his soda.
“So, what’s your order?” Jensne asks, taking his order pad out of his server’s apron.
“I’m stuffed, actually,” Jared replies, rubbing at his stomach.
Jensen glances around the place before furrowing his brow at Jared. “Then, you’re here because …”
“Because I knew you were on your own for T-Day, and we can’t have that happening.”
“I’m not totally alone,” Jensen says quickly.
“You said you had to work instead of going to your parents’. That you were gonna miss the whole shebang.”
Jensen opens his mouth to defend the scenario, to make it sound less pathetic, but Jared cuts him off.
“I guess my order is for you to sit with me for ten minutes,” Jared says with an easy smile. “But I don’t seen that on the menu.”
It makes Jensen smile, too, and he’s no longer up for excusing anything away.
“Please?” Jared smiles with him. “You really gonna turn away an easy tip?”
“Fifteen percent?”
“Twenty, and maybe later I’ll give you a bonus, too.”
Jensen smirks and knocks at the top of the table. “Okay. Gimme a few minutes for my tables.”
With one last loop around the restaurant, he closes out a couple checks, stops at the young family in the corner and leaves them with the last two plates of pumpkin pie, then heads back to the kitchen.
“What other pie do you have left?” he asks Jim, the cook.
“Chocolate cream, strawberry rhubarb, and apple.” Jensen smacks his lips in thought and Jim looks through the kitchen window to the dining room, right at Jared, and smiles. “I’ve got a sliver of custard left, if you’re looking to impress.”
Jensen smiles and looks away. “Yeah, that’ll be fine.”
“Five minutes and it’ll be dressed up like the Macy’s parade. If you can stand to wait that long,” he jokes.
“Just do it already,” Jensen mumbles, trying like hell to ignore the flare of excitement over doing something special for Jared. He figures the guy deserves it after skipping out early on his family’s meal to come down and keep him company, not to mention staying dressed like something out of the Village People. Which, was likely all at the hands of little nieces and nephews that Jared always grins about and is never able to let down.
It takes nearly ten minutes, but when it’s ready, Jensen’s setting a plate of warm custard pie on the table, dressed in cranberry-blueberry topping and accompanied by a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Jared’s eyes bug out at the dessert and Jensen realizes the paper headband is off and the make-up is smeared away.
“Dude, I don’t know. I thought the face paint really tied the whole get-up together,” Jensen says with a smirk.
Jared grimaces. “It was getting all itchy.”
Jensen smiles and nudges the custard closer to Jared. “Dig in.”
“No, seriously,” Jared says gravely. “I’m stuffed to the gills.”
Jensen pulls two spoons out of his apron and holds them in the space between he and Jared. “Are you really gonna turn me down here?” He shakes the spoons then whirls them in the air. “I’ll rub your stuffed turkey belly when we’re done.”
Jared’s mouth opens then he bites his lip in thought until he finally sighs with a smile. “Man, you drive a hard bargain.”