Fuck me! Why I'm Talking to You Timestamp
I was going to shower and go shopping or at the very least watch a shit ton of TV today. Or you know, WORK ON MY CHRISTMAS FIC THAT I NEED TO FINISH THIS WEEKEND.
But no, I wrote 1,500 words of akintay's Why I'm Talking to You timestamp.
“You’re mother henning,” Jared says, and follows his supposedly annoyed voice with a cough, sneeze, and another cough.
“Yeah, well, you’re dying on my couch. What’m I supposed to do?” Jensen asks with a crooked smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You could go to work and let me die in peace.”
It’s supposed to be a joke, Jensen can hear it in Jared’s voice, see it in the rise of his eyebrows. But the way he lurches forward, coughing into his chest, does little to assure Jensen that Jared’s getting any better. “Jared, you should - ”
“Go. To. Work,” Jared instructs, but his authority is lessened by the nasally lilt of his voice.
Jensen wavers, leaning one way then the other. Jared is sick as a dog. Sick enough to skip class though not sick enough to warrant a doctor’s visit or a hospital trip. Though Jensen is considering either of those options because … well, he really is mother henning Jared, and is in fact kind of paranoid and aching at seeing Jared all pale-faced, clammy, and unable to get more than four words out before he’s hacking up a lung. But he also has a ridiculous pile of work waiting for him at the office, it’s closing in on nine o’clock, and Danneel has already called and texted him a fair amount of times to see if he was going to make his ten o’clock meeting with the SKYY vodka people.
“Jensen,” Jared whines when Jensen’s hand sweeps over his forehead and stalls to feel for a temperature.
He takes a deep breath and turns away with a grumble. “Alright, alright. I’m leaving.”
“Never been so happy,” Jared mumbles as his eyes slip closed.
*
Jensen’s never been so unhappy. He’s forcing himself through the day, forcing himself to not think about Jared and his mucus farm camped out in the living room. He hopes he left enough boxes of tissues, cough drops, and juice in Jared’s vicinity, imagining Jared wasting away if everything’s not within reach. More than once - well, more than a dozen or so times - he’s reached for the phone to call Jared and check in, but never quite made it far enough to dial all of the numbers. Half the time he pictured Jared rolling his eyes and mocking him for calling and the other half he’d been interrupted by a call, email, or Danneel rushing in with paperwork to go over.
He finally catches a second of silence and reaches for the phone, putting the headset against his head and dialing Jared’s cell. He’s two numbers away from being connected when Danneel strolls in. “What’re you doing?”
Jensen immediately puts the phone down and turns to his computer. “I was checking voicemail.”
“He’s an adult,” she says a bit stern, but her smile eases it.
“What? I was just … ” When her arms cross and she eyes him intently, he grumbles and focuses on the computer screen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She rounds the desk and leans at the edge, nudging Jensen with her knee. “It’s just a cold.”
“I’m not worried,” he says without looking at her, but there’s an edge to his voice that says he really is.
“I know you’re not,” she smirks and nudges him again. Suddenly, though, her voice gets soft. “I know you just want him to need you.”
Jensen doesn’t turn at that. He just stares at the screen, and with his hand stalled on the mouse he thinks it over. They’ve only been together for a few months, and while Jared constantly impresses him by having his life in order, there are times Jensen feels like he should step up and be in charge, be the provider, the caretaker. And he recognizes this moment, with Jared slumped over his couch and alone, as the perfect time to step in and take care of him. But Jared’s been pushing Jensen away the last two days, insisting he would survive and Jensen shouldn’t bother with him.
“At the very least,” Danneel says with a light, playful voice. “He needs your couch.”
He turns to her then and watches with a blank expression, waiting for her to go on.
She gives him a crooked smile and squeezes his shoulder. “He’s not drowning in germs on his couch.”
It takes a few seconds, but then Jensen’s smiling gently and his head clears of the worries he’s had since yesterday morning. He nods and smiles his thanks before going back to the computer and finally focusing on the rest of his day.
*
It’s late and dark when Jensen gets home, the TV the only light in the living room. It illuminates Jared on the couch, huddled into himself with the blankets pulled up to his chin and used tissues littering the area. Jensen crouches before him, gathering the crumpled mess into a pile to toss out, and then coasts a hand over Jared’s head. He’s mostly just pushing the sweaty hair off his forehead but he’s also pausing at the temple to judge if Jared’s cooled down since this morning. It seems about the same, but Jensen remembers that body temps rise in the evenings, so he hopes it means Jared’s fever has calmed overall.
He leaves Jared with a kiss on the cheek and cleans up all the used glasses, tissues, and cough drop wrappers. He restocks Jared’s cold goods then readies for bed and drops onto the big, empty mattress.
There’s a bit of ease in his mind that Jared’s sleeping, and not fitfully like he had the two nights before. But Jensen so easily feels the pull of Jared in the front room while he tries to sleep in the bedroom. He knows he should be grateful that yeah, Jared isn’t staying at his place to get better. That he wants to be in Jensen’s space when he’s sick. But Jensen’s feeling himself grow selfish and he wants Jared right alongside him, even if it means sharing germs and feeling how clammy Jared is in the middle of the night.
Jensen pads out into the living room, squeezes Jared shoulder, and coaxes Jared awake. It takes a few tries, but he finally rolls onto his back with a wince and grumbles without opening his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Hey, come to bed” Jensen says quietly, soothingly. “Can’t be too comfortable out here.”
“Your couch is comfy, dude.”
“Yeah, but, I’m not sleeping out here,” he says before he realizes it and can’t take it back.
Jared looks at him for a second before closing his eyes, and then he smirks. “Aww, how cute,” Jared says with an obvious scratch to his voice. “You miss me.”
“Yeah, well,” he manages with an embarrassed smile. “I’m sure you’ll somehow work this into ‘Jensen made you sleep on the couch when you were dying,’ so come on to bed.”
Jared doesn’t move anywhere near quickly, but he does eventually sit up and drag his pillow and blanket behind him as they go back to the bedroom. He lays out on the other side of the bed, curling into the covers and closing his eyes before Jensen can say a thing.
Jensen stays quiet, but eventually scoots across the mattress and settles in close to Jared, arm over his waist and head just above Jared’s.
“You’re gonna get sick,” Jared mumbles.
He kisses the top of Jared’s head. “Nah, I’m tougher than you.”
Jared snorts but moves in tighter, welcoming Jensen in his space, and they both sleep soundly through the night.
*
It’s that next Monday when they really learn how to manage a sick person.
Jared sighs but he’s smiling when he drops a glass of apple juice onto the coffee table. “You’re making me miserable just looking at you.”
“You’re such a charmer,” Jensen grumbles out and pulls the glass over as he sniffles into the blankets.
“Alright, I’m calling Dani.”
“What?” he practically scratches through his throat. “No. I’m getting up in five. Just gotta shower.”
Jared’s raised eyebrow is skeptical and he crosses his arms. Jensen sniffles again and it shifts right into a short-then-rumbling cough, and then he inhales a deep breath to get oxygen back into his lungs. Jared wants to laugh, a little, but instead he frowns playfully. “No way are you going anywhere.”
Jensen shakes his head, rolls his eyes, but gives in all the same.
With a small sigh, Jared moves to the couch and nudges Jensen up so he can sit and then guides Jensen’s head down to his lap. His hand slowly smooths over Jensen’s hair, all matted down and maybe a little greasy from not being washed over the weekend, but Jared doesn’t care. He just keeps soothing his fingers over Jensen’s head.
“Don’t you have class?” Jensen asks quietly and extremely nasally.
Jared smirks more at his voice than the words. “Don’t worry about it.” He feels Jensen nod against his leg and then Jensen burrows further into the couch, shifting his head to a more comfortable position but still right against his leg. Jared moves his hand over to Jensen’s back and the other settles on Jensen’s head, fingers slowly moving down his neck. “Not ‘til 3. I’m not going anywhere.”
But no, I wrote 1,500 words of akintay's Why I'm Talking to You timestamp.
“You’re mother henning,” Jared says, and follows his supposedly annoyed voice with a cough, sneeze, and another cough.
“Yeah, well, you’re dying on my couch. What’m I supposed to do?” Jensen asks with a crooked smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You could go to work and let me die in peace.”
It’s supposed to be a joke, Jensen can hear it in Jared’s voice, see it in the rise of his eyebrows. But the way he lurches forward, coughing into his chest, does little to assure Jensen that Jared’s getting any better. “Jared, you should - ”
“Go. To. Work,” Jared instructs, but his authority is lessened by the nasally lilt of his voice.
Jensen wavers, leaning one way then the other. Jared is sick as a dog. Sick enough to skip class though not sick enough to warrant a doctor’s visit or a hospital trip. Though Jensen is considering either of those options because … well, he really is mother henning Jared, and is in fact kind of paranoid and aching at seeing Jared all pale-faced, clammy, and unable to get more than four words out before he’s hacking up a lung. But he also has a ridiculous pile of work waiting for him at the office, it’s closing in on nine o’clock, and Danneel has already called and texted him a fair amount of times to see if he was going to make his ten o’clock meeting with the SKYY vodka people.
“Jensen,” Jared whines when Jensen’s hand sweeps over his forehead and stalls to feel for a temperature.
He takes a deep breath and turns away with a grumble. “Alright, alright. I’m leaving.”
“Never been so happy,” Jared mumbles as his eyes slip closed.
*
Jensen’s never been so unhappy. He’s forcing himself through the day, forcing himself to not think about Jared and his mucus farm camped out in the living room. He hopes he left enough boxes of tissues, cough drops, and juice in Jared’s vicinity, imagining Jared wasting away if everything’s not within reach. More than once - well, more than a dozen or so times - he’s reached for the phone to call Jared and check in, but never quite made it far enough to dial all of the numbers. Half the time he pictured Jared rolling his eyes and mocking him for calling and the other half he’d been interrupted by a call, email, or Danneel rushing in with paperwork to go over.
He finally catches a second of silence and reaches for the phone, putting the headset against his head and dialing Jared’s cell. He’s two numbers away from being connected when Danneel strolls in. “What’re you doing?”
Jensen immediately puts the phone down and turns to his computer. “I was checking voicemail.”
“He’s an adult,” she says a bit stern, but her smile eases it.
“What? I was just … ” When her arms cross and she eyes him intently, he grumbles and focuses on the computer screen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She rounds the desk and leans at the edge, nudging Jensen with her knee. “It’s just a cold.”
“I’m not worried,” he says without looking at her, but there’s an edge to his voice that says he really is.
“I know you’re not,” she smirks and nudges him again. Suddenly, though, her voice gets soft. “I know you just want him to need you.”
Jensen doesn’t turn at that. He just stares at the screen, and with his hand stalled on the mouse he thinks it over. They’ve only been together for a few months, and while Jared constantly impresses him by having his life in order, there are times Jensen feels like he should step up and be in charge, be the provider, the caretaker. And he recognizes this moment, with Jared slumped over his couch and alone, as the perfect time to step in and take care of him. But Jared’s been pushing Jensen away the last two days, insisting he would survive and Jensen shouldn’t bother with him.
“At the very least,” Danneel says with a light, playful voice. “He needs your couch.”
He turns to her then and watches with a blank expression, waiting for her to go on.
She gives him a crooked smile and squeezes his shoulder. “He’s not drowning in germs on his couch.”
It takes a few seconds, but then Jensen’s smiling gently and his head clears of the worries he’s had since yesterday morning. He nods and smiles his thanks before going back to the computer and finally focusing on the rest of his day.
*
It’s late and dark when Jensen gets home, the TV the only light in the living room. It illuminates Jared on the couch, huddled into himself with the blankets pulled up to his chin and used tissues littering the area. Jensen crouches before him, gathering the crumpled mess into a pile to toss out, and then coasts a hand over Jared’s head. He’s mostly just pushing the sweaty hair off his forehead but he’s also pausing at the temple to judge if Jared’s cooled down since this morning. It seems about the same, but Jensen remembers that body temps rise in the evenings, so he hopes it means Jared’s fever has calmed overall.
He leaves Jared with a kiss on the cheek and cleans up all the used glasses, tissues, and cough drop wrappers. He restocks Jared’s cold goods then readies for bed and drops onto the big, empty mattress.
There’s a bit of ease in his mind that Jared’s sleeping, and not fitfully like he had the two nights before. But Jensen so easily feels the pull of Jared in the front room while he tries to sleep in the bedroom. He knows he should be grateful that yeah, Jared isn’t staying at his place to get better. That he wants to be in Jensen’s space when he’s sick. But Jensen’s feeling himself grow selfish and he wants Jared right alongside him, even if it means sharing germs and feeling how clammy Jared is in the middle of the night.
Jensen pads out into the living room, squeezes Jared shoulder, and coaxes Jared awake. It takes a few tries, but he finally rolls onto his back with a wince and grumbles without opening his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Hey, come to bed” Jensen says quietly, soothingly. “Can’t be too comfortable out here.”
“Your couch is comfy, dude.”
“Yeah, but, I’m not sleeping out here,” he says before he realizes it and can’t take it back.
Jared looks at him for a second before closing his eyes, and then he smirks. “Aww, how cute,” Jared says with an obvious scratch to his voice. “You miss me.”
“Yeah, well,” he manages with an embarrassed smile. “I’m sure you’ll somehow work this into ‘Jensen made you sleep on the couch when you were dying,’ so come on to bed.”
Jared doesn’t move anywhere near quickly, but he does eventually sit up and drag his pillow and blanket behind him as they go back to the bedroom. He lays out on the other side of the bed, curling into the covers and closing his eyes before Jensen can say a thing.
Jensen stays quiet, but eventually scoots across the mattress and settles in close to Jared, arm over his waist and head just above Jared’s.
“You’re gonna get sick,” Jared mumbles.
He kisses the top of Jared’s head. “Nah, I’m tougher than you.”
Jared snorts but moves in tighter, welcoming Jensen in his space, and they both sleep soundly through the night.
*
It’s that next Monday when they really learn how to manage a sick person.
Jared sighs but he’s smiling when he drops a glass of apple juice onto the coffee table. “You’re making me miserable just looking at you.”
“You’re such a charmer,” Jensen grumbles out and pulls the glass over as he sniffles into the blankets.
“Alright, I’m calling Dani.”
“What?” he practically scratches through his throat. “No. I’m getting up in five. Just gotta shower.”
Jared’s raised eyebrow is skeptical and he crosses his arms. Jensen sniffles again and it shifts right into a short-then-rumbling cough, and then he inhales a deep breath to get oxygen back into his lungs. Jared wants to laugh, a little, but instead he frowns playfully. “No way are you going anywhere.”
Jensen shakes his head, rolls his eyes, but gives in all the same.
With a small sigh, Jared moves to the couch and nudges Jensen up so he can sit and then guides Jensen’s head down to his lap. His hand slowly smooths over Jensen’s hair, all matted down and maybe a little greasy from not being washed over the weekend, but Jared doesn’t care. He just keeps soothing his fingers over Jensen’s head.
“Don’t you have class?” Jensen asks quietly and extremely nasally.
Jared smirks more at his voice than the words. “Don’t worry about it.” He feels Jensen nod against his leg and then Jensen burrows further into the couch, shifting his head to a more comfortable position but still right against his leg. Jared moves his hand over to Jensen’s back and the other settles on Jensen’s head, fingers slowly moving down his neck. “Not ‘til 3. I’m not going anywhere.”