Sometimes I like to amuse others as well as myself...
I seem to have fallen into a bit of writer's block post-Big Bang. Well, okay, I don't know if it's writer's block or if it's me being lazy. I have ideas, I just can't seem to get them down.
That being said, here is something ridiculous I wrote last week to amuse rhythmsextion and/or distract her from her posting anxiety. Umm, it references but does not contain spoilers for Hail Mary. (Try as I might, I couldn't get her to end the story like this- Apparently it wasn't "realistic" enough. Whatever, says I.)
Sooo, to call this a timestamp would be giving it more credit than it deserves, but for what it's worth, the Jared and Jensen here are the ones from my big bang. Not that it makes a whole lot of difference. WHATEVER, HAVE SOMETHING COMPLETELY SILLY!
***
In the short time that they've been sleeping together, Jared has developed the uncanny ability to know the instant Jensen wakes up in the morning. On the weekdays, it's not a problem as they're both routinely startled awake by the alarm clock, but on the weekends, Jensen has no sooner taken that first breath between sleep and wakefulness before Jared is talking. It's adorable or annoying as fuck depending on how early it is, how much sleep Jensen has gotten, and whether or not Jared follows up the one-sided conversation with sex.
"So I had this dream last night," Jared says, and Jensen makes a disgruntled noise as he tries to burrow into his pillow. The grey light filtering in through the window indicates the ass-crack of dawn and Jensen's not ready to be awake. Jared, however, seems to take this as, "Please, continue."
"We were Cowboys, dude. It was awesome!" Jared scoots a little closer and wraps his arm around Jensen's waist, pausing for a moment to nuzzle the back of his neck before he clarifies, "Cowboys as in the Dallas, not Wild Wild West. You were like the veteran quarterback and I was the hot young upstart. And, um, we had a lot of sex and then I became the star of the team and shit."
Jensen snorts into the pillow, then turns his head enough to say, "Think pretty highly of yourself, there, don't you?" He feels Jared's grin and is glad that Jared can't seen his own.
"Anyway, so then later in the dream, you were my coach and there was a bunch of other stuff going on. I think at one point you were in GQ or something? Then we were in the Super Bowl."
"Yeah?" Jensen resigns himself to being awake and an active participant in this dialogue and turns in Jared's arms so that he's on his back. "Did we win?"
"Did you miss the part about me being the star quarterback? We totally won." Jared beams at him. "And there was all this confetti and you ran onto the field and we started making out and it was on the big screen and everyone was cheering for us and then-" He breaks off when Jensen starts laughing. "Shut up, it was awesome."
"That is totally how that would go down. I'm sure Jerry Jones wouldn't have an aneurysm or anything." Jensen pokes him in the chest and adds, "Though I guess I should be grateful I was a coach and not a cheerleader." Jared gets a speculative look at that and Jensen shakes his head. "Fuck you. Tell me you're not picturing me as a cheerleader right now.
"But it'd be hot," Jared says in a petulant tone. "With those shirts and your shoulders and arms..."
"You are so not getting laid today." Jensen moves to roll out of bed, but Jared grabs his wrist and tugs him back easily. To be fair, Jensen wasn't really putting up a fight.
"You could be the head cheerleader," Jared says, and Jensen laughs.
"Quarterback nailing the head cheerleader?" He shakes his head. "So cliché."
Jared ignores him and leans down to kiss Jensen's neck instead, moves to sink his teeth gently into the curve of his shoulder before asking, "What were you dreaming about?"
"Ahhh." Jensen tries to remember, but he's distracted by Jared's mouth moving over him and the vivid mental image of Jared in pads. "Something about an exotic leopard snail? And I was riding a dog-dragon. Fuck if I know."
"Hmmm." Jared traces his tongue over the curve of Jensen's bicep and then presses a tickling kiss to the inside of his elbow.
"I'm not dressing up as a cheerleader. Like, ever," Jensen warns him.
"I have a very vivid imagination," Jared says, then sets about distracting Jensen past any and all points of objection.
THE END
That being said, here is something ridiculous I wrote last week to amuse rhythmsextion and/or distract her from her posting anxiety. Umm, it references but does not contain spoilers for Hail Mary. (Try as I might, I couldn't get her to end the story like this- Apparently it wasn't "realistic" enough. Whatever, says I.)
Sooo, to call this a timestamp would be giving it more credit than it deserves, but for what it's worth, the Jared and Jensen here are the ones from my big bang. Not that it makes a whole lot of difference. WHATEVER, HAVE SOMETHING COMPLETELY SILLY!
***
In the short time that they've been sleeping together, Jared has developed the uncanny ability to know the instant Jensen wakes up in the morning. On the weekdays, it's not a problem as they're both routinely startled awake by the alarm clock, but on the weekends, Jensen has no sooner taken that first breath between sleep and wakefulness before Jared is talking. It's adorable or annoying as fuck depending on how early it is, how much sleep Jensen has gotten, and whether or not Jared follows up the one-sided conversation with sex.
"So I had this dream last night," Jared says, and Jensen makes a disgruntled noise as he tries to burrow into his pillow. The grey light filtering in through the window indicates the ass-crack of dawn and Jensen's not ready to be awake. Jared, however, seems to take this as, "Please, continue."
"We were Cowboys, dude. It was awesome!" Jared scoots a little closer and wraps his arm around Jensen's waist, pausing for a moment to nuzzle the back of his neck before he clarifies, "Cowboys as in the Dallas, not Wild Wild West. You were like the veteran quarterback and I was the hot young upstart. And, um, we had a lot of sex and then I became the star of the team and shit."
Jensen snorts into the pillow, then turns his head enough to say, "Think pretty highly of yourself, there, don't you?" He feels Jared's grin and is glad that Jared can't seen his own.
"Anyway, so then later in the dream, you were my coach and there was a bunch of other stuff going on. I think at one point you were in GQ or something? Then we were in the Super Bowl."
"Yeah?" Jensen resigns himself to being awake and an active participant in this dialogue and turns in Jared's arms so that he's on his back. "Did we win?"
"Did you miss the part about me being the star quarterback? We totally won." Jared beams at him. "And there was all this confetti and you ran onto the field and we started making out and it was on the big screen and everyone was cheering for us and then-" He breaks off when Jensen starts laughing. "Shut up, it was awesome."
"That is totally how that would go down. I'm sure Jerry Jones wouldn't have an aneurysm or anything." Jensen pokes him in the chest and adds, "Though I guess I should be grateful I was a coach and not a cheerleader." Jared gets a speculative look at that and Jensen shakes his head. "Fuck you. Tell me you're not picturing me as a cheerleader right now.
"But it'd be hot," Jared says in a petulant tone. "With those shirts and your shoulders and arms..."
"You are so not getting laid today." Jensen moves to roll out of bed, but Jared grabs his wrist and tugs him back easily. To be fair, Jensen wasn't really putting up a fight.
"You could be the head cheerleader," Jared says, and Jensen laughs.
"Quarterback nailing the head cheerleader?" He shakes his head. "So cliché."
Jared ignores him and leans down to kiss Jensen's neck instead, moves to sink his teeth gently into the curve of his shoulder before asking, "What were you dreaming about?"
"Ahhh." Jensen tries to remember, but he's distracted by Jared's mouth moving over him and the vivid mental image of Jared in pads. "Something about an exotic leopard snail? And I was riding a dog-dragon. Fuck if I know."
"Hmmm." Jared traces his tongue over the curve of Jensen's bicep and then presses a tickling kiss to the inside of his elbow.
"I'm not dressing up as a cheerleader. Like, ever," Jensen warns him.
"I have a very vivid imagination," Jared says, then sets about distracting Jensen past any and all points of objection.
THE END