train timestamp
Merry Christmas to my bb aldehyde
500-word trainfic timestamp for youuuuuuuu!
Jensen wouldn’t call himself an anxious man. Wouldn’t say he ever really holds his breath or sits on the edge of his seat. He usually goes through life and deals with whatever is tossed his way.
That’s before Jared.
Because Monday morning, little more than 48 hours since he last saw Jared, since they had their first date, he’s on the train platform and uneasy. He’s looking up and down the space, looking for Jared.
The train comes. Jared doesn’t.
Jensen sits against the window and stretches his legs out, crossing his arms and staring out the glass. He’s usually so rigid while reading through his iPhone, or the latest bestselling book. But today, he’s not interested.
Thing is, he likes Jared. Likes Jared more than he had thought he would, more than he’d planned after leaving Jared his business card months ago. Never thought the guy would get under his skin, but he has, and it makes Jensen nervous and antsy to think about Jared. After what he thought was an incredibly successful first date, he has yet to hear from him. And his absence on the train doesn’t help him in any way.
He wastes his time watching scenery pass as the train heads to its next stop. He rests his head at the window, and closes his eyes and breathes deep. He’s feeling better. For a few moments at least, until someone roughly plops into the seat, bumping his shoulder and rousing him from the light sleep he was hoping for.
“You mind - ” he starts angrily but then stares at Jared, who’s right there. But also a little sweaty and pink and out of breath. “Hey,” Jensen says pathetically.
“Hey,” Jared returns half-heartedly as he shifts away to pull his bag strap over his head so he can sit more comfortably with the bag in his lap. “Think my alarm’s broke. Bike’s got a flat. Shit. I practically ran the whole way to the train.” Then he rolls his shoulder. “Doors freaking closed on me. Damnit,” he nearly whimpers as he holds his right shoulder and tries to move it around.
Jensen wants to smile, say something funny and comforting to settle Jared, who’s looking unnerved and crabby this morning.
But Jared grunts out, “I fucking hate Mondays,” and it surprises Jensen, who’s only ever seen Jared bright and happy and laughing at nearly everything. The guy has enough patience for the both of them, and seems to use it to calm Jensen when he’s especially grumpy.
Jensen just watches Jared squeeze his shoulder and slightly wince. On instinct, he moves his hand to Jared’s lap, slipping it into Jared’s right hand. Jared squeezes immediately and then turns and smiles carefully. “Could be worse,” Jensen tries.
“How so?” Jared asks, obviously bothered, but his slight smile tells more.
“Could’ve missed the train.”
“Not an option,” he smirks, shaking his head and squeezing Jensen’s hand.
500-word trainfic timestamp for youuuuuuuu!
Jensen wouldn’t call himself an anxious man. Wouldn’t say he ever really holds his breath or sits on the edge of his seat. He usually goes through life and deals with whatever is tossed his way.
That’s before Jared.
Because Monday morning, little more than 48 hours since he last saw Jared, since they had their first date, he’s on the train platform and uneasy. He’s looking up and down the space, looking for Jared.
The train comes. Jared doesn’t.
Jensen sits against the window and stretches his legs out, crossing his arms and staring out the glass. He’s usually so rigid while reading through his iPhone, or the latest bestselling book. But today, he’s not interested.
Thing is, he likes Jared. Likes Jared more than he had thought he would, more than he’d planned after leaving Jared his business card months ago. Never thought the guy would get under his skin, but he has, and it makes Jensen nervous and antsy to think about Jared. After what he thought was an incredibly successful first date, he has yet to hear from him. And his absence on the train doesn’t help him in any way.
He wastes his time watching scenery pass as the train heads to its next stop. He rests his head at the window, and closes his eyes and breathes deep. He’s feeling better. For a few moments at least, until someone roughly plops into the seat, bumping his shoulder and rousing him from the light sleep he was hoping for.
“You mind - ” he starts angrily but then stares at Jared, who’s right there. But also a little sweaty and pink and out of breath. “Hey,” Jensen says pathetically.
“Hey,” Jared returns half-heartedly as he shifts away to pull his bag strap over his head so he can sit more comfortably with the bag in his lap. “Think my alarm’s broke. Bike’s got a flat. Shit. I practically ran the whole way to the train.” Then he rolls his shoulder. “Doors freaking closed on me. Damnit,” he nearly whimpers as he holds his right shoulder and tries to move it around.
Jensen wants to smile, say something funny and comforting to settle Jared, who’s looking unnerved and crabby this morning.
But Jared grunts out, “I fucking hate Mondays,” and it surprises Jensen, who’s only ever seen Jared bright and happy and laughing at nearly everything. The guy has enough patience for the both of them, and seems to use it to calm Jensen when he’s especially grumpy.
Jensen just watches Jared squeeze his shoulder and slightly wince. On instinct, he moves his hand to Jared’s lap, slipping it into Jared’s right hand. Jared squeezes immediately and then turns and smiles carefully. “Could be worse,” Jensen tries.
“How so?” Jared asks, obviously bothered, but his slight smile tells more.
“Could’ve missed the train.”
“Not an option,” he smirks, shaking his head and squeezing Jensen’s hand.