[J2 Fic] Stop Me If You Think That You've Heard This One Before
Title: Stop Me If You Think That You’ve Heard This One Before
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 2070
Beta: The wonderful ulysses3_de
Disclaimer: All lies
Summary: AU. Let me tell you a tale about a boy who liked another boy.
Notes: For jeyhawk for spn_j2_xmas . I’m not sure it’s recognisable as any of your prompts, but they did inspire this. Honestly. Thanks to moorspede and siubhlach for their handholding.
Stop Me If You Think That You’ve Heard This One Before
“Jaydog! Are you ever going to come out from behind that plant?”
“Don’t call me Jaydog. And no.”
***
“C’mon, dude. A party’s not a party without The Chad and his freakishly tall wingman. You can’t hide all night.”
“Oh, I think you’ll find I can. Wait, did you just call yourself The Chad? What is it with you and bad names today?”
“It’s the holiday spirit. Anyway, chicks dig a man who can talk about himself in the third person.”
“I’m pretty sure they don’t.”
“What do you know, homo?”
“Go away, The Chad.”
***
“Man, this is getting pathetic.”
“Did you bring me any food? I think I saw Steve with some of those really nice shrimp things we had…”
“No. Just. No. You gotta get off your ass and move from this spot. Seriously, you can’t let him get to you man.”
“I know. I just, I can’t. Not again. He’s so…And I’m, y’know me…And it always…No.”
***
Ever since Jared started working at the firm of Kripke, Gamble and Beaver, he had attended every one of their, pretty regular, holiday functions: the Martin Luther King’s day employee picnic, the annual Easter egg hunt, the Independence day BBQ-blow out, Thanksgiving turkey-fest and the Christmas in the office party. For four years he’s come, he’s enjoyed and he’s conquered the buffet table. But now he had officially given up.
And the cause of his woe, you might ask? Well, that was one Jensen Ackles. To get a real idea of what that means, aside from the current need for small shrubbery camouflage, we’re going to have to take a short detour, back to the very beginning of their history.
It was a morning, just like any other, in the summer of 2007. Jared, sweaty and dishevelled from ridiculous Texan heat, entered the lobby of his place of employment. He unplugged the earphones out of his ears, unclipped his iPod, put it in his pocket and then looked up. And it was freeze-frame. There he was. The perfect Adonis of Jared’s fantasies since he’d first discovered his penis and GQ magazine. Measuring mystery-man against the physical criteria hard-wired into Jared’s brain went something like this:
Built? Check. (Nearly as tall as Jared but with leaner hips and broader shoulders)
Glasses? Check (What? Geeks are hot.)
Lips? Check. Check. And check again.
Model cheekbones? Check.
Freckles? Check. (And thank you for whatever childhood event gave him that fetish)
Ass? That’s a check (Hello nirvana)
And now he worked where Jared worked. Unfortunately, there was to be a small hitch in the getting-to-know-you plans. Thanks to Alona Tal’s monthly office newsletter, Jared quickly found out that the Adonis, one Jensen Ackles, was a new accountant at the firm (Smart? Check). The thing was, all the math-inclined people worked on the fourth floor, but Jared, and the rest of the more exuberant PR and marketing folks, worked on the third and so never the twain shall meet, or however that old saying goes.
The first plan had been to think of excuses to visit Jensen’s area. Unfortunately, between himself and cubicle mate Chad, they could think of nothing that wouldn’t make them seem either creepy or retarded.
Plan number two had involved starting a relationship via e-mail contact, but after staring at a blank screen for three solid days that too fell by the wayside.
By the time plan number three was due to get started, Mike and Tom from the next box over had gotten involved and that just made all suggestions either two times dumber or two times crazier.
Eventually Jared was reduced to falling back on the one thing boys of any age can fall back on whether they want to or not, their mommas.
“JT, baby, this isn’t like you. What happened to my outgoing baby-boy who could pick strange men up at a drop of a hat at those gay discotheques you like…”
“Mom!”
“What. You would wear those nice tight shirts and take your friends…Ted? Michael? I think. Whatever happened to them?”
“Oh Christ. Mom. I never did that. You’re getting your only middle child confused with Brian from ‘Queer as Folk’.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes Mom.”
“Well he was hot, honey.”
You’d think that that conversation would have been a complete failure ending in total frustration for our hero, but instead it sparked an idea - a simple, but totally workable idea - to somehow mingle with Jensen at the office social-events. Jared was smart. Jared was funny. Jared was built. He knew these things and he was a confident young man. So he could totally do that. Besides, everyone talked to everyone at those things and once liquor got involved, who knew what magic could happen?
Of course, if things had gone as planned this story would be over, but as you can see words written below, they clearly didn’t.
Thanksgiving 2007: The Rolling Stones lied when they said ‘jumping jack flash is a gas, gas, gas’, because Jared was clearly the gas. Or more widely known as the time Jared farted at the buffet table (to be fair, it came after his second in a row win at the annual ‘who can eat the most turkey dinner in three minutes’ contest) when standing right near Jensen and ran away in a fit of giggles and shame.
Christmas 2007: I’m a monster! Or how Jared thought he was doing a really good job of flirting with Jensen across a crowded room until Chad told him to stop smiling and go sort himself out because most of his meal was stuck in his teeth.
Martin Luther King day 2008: It was a solemn promise amongst all who were there that this event would never be spoken of again. Not even if hushed tones were used.
Easter 2008: Diaper time! Or the infamous occasion where Jared insisted he accidentally sat on a chocolate egg and that was why there was a brown stain on the ass area of his pants.
Independence day 2008: Is that the aurora borealis? Or the time a firework went slightly wrong, flew to the left instead of straight up, and set Jared’s coat on fire just as he stepped up behind Jensen to say hello.
Thanksgiving 2008: In the words of Jon Stewart ‘It’s a catastrofuck’. Or the time Jared tripped over his own pants leg on the way to speak to Jensen and fell face first into Vice-President Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s crotch instead.
So now Jared has given up, feeling himself fated to be denied love and happiness and Jensen. And this leads us back to where we joined the tale, with Jared hiding behind a large potted plant at the 2008 office Christmas party.
But have faith, dear reader, sometimes Christmas miracles do happen.
***
“I know. I just, I can’t. Not again. He’s so…And I’m, y’know me…And it always…No.”
***
“Excuse me. Hi.” A voice interrupted them. “Mind if I hide here with you?”
“Wha...” Jared went to reply, stopping mid-word when he looked up and saw Jensen. A Jensen who was bright red and sweating slightly. “Dude, are you feeling okay? Can I make Chad go get you a glass of water or anything?”
“Nah. I’m good. Really,” he confirmed at Jared’s raised eyebrow.
“Well that’s great.” Chad interrupted, alternating his gaze between the two of them. “You two hide here like whiny little bitches. Meanwhile the Chad is gonna go get his freak on.”
Jared laughed as his friend backed away towards the sounds of frolicking office workers. With his good humor bubbling back to the surface, he turned and smiled at the man now sitting next to him.
“So…Um…Hi. I’m Jensen.”
And at that Jared couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him. “Oh believe me, I know,” he wheezed out.
“Okay.” Jensen said, running a hand over his face, and as an aside added “Not sure why that’s so funny.”
Well, that just made Jared laugh even harder. “Dude, do you know how long I’ve been trying to get your attention?”
“What?”
“Since you first started here, I’ve been all insane stalker guy for you.”
“Uh uh. No way. That’s just not true.” Jensen said incredulously.
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
“Hey. Crazy guy! I think I know better than you how long I’ve been trying to talk to you.”
“No. No way. Now, you’re just trying to re-write history,” he emphatically accused, with lots of finger pointing. “I’m always trying to approach you. And each time you run away.”
“The hell?”
“First damn party here and I see this mountain of man and I’m thinking ‘hallelujah’ and ‘Jesus, he’s hot. And strong looking. Did I mention hot?’ and after ten minutes staring, I finally work up the nerve to come say ‘hey’ and you just fucking flee one second before I get there. Which also meant that I had to spend the next ten minutes making polite chitchat to stinky Kripke who was blowing them off left and right. I suffered for you.” He added dramatically. “And every damn time after that. The same thing. I go to help you up after a fall, you flee. I try to douse you, you flee. To everyone else here you’re all wide, dimpled smiles and ‘let me give you my undivided and sincere attention and show you how attractive I can be’ all the time, but for me…Well, it was like you hated me.”
“Hated you? Are you insane. I can’t even look at you without drooling and going all starry-eyed. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I’ve wanted in your pants and in your ass since day one. Yup, day one. In fact, day one, second one to be precise. Standing there in the lobby looking all clean-shaven and sparkly with your lips and your freckles and your hair. And now, now you’re here being all weird and hysterical and guess what?”
“What?” Jensen asked meekly, following Jared’s outburst.
“I just like you even damn more.”
“Oh,” Jensen blushed.
“Yeah, oh,” Jared replied victoriously. “What’ve you got to say about that?”
There was a long pause. Finally Jensen came back with “Okay. To sum up. You like me?” Here Jared nodded. “I like you. We’re finally talking to each other. But we’re using the opportunity to argue instead of flirt. We’re being pretty stupid.”
“Oh yeah.” Jared concurred. “But I think it would sound better if you changed argue to something along the lines of passionate disagreement or emotional fire-works…”
“Wow. I really didn’t think you’d want to hear about the word fire-works ever again.”
“Yeah, to see them, that’s just…No. But we can still feel them, right?”
“Sure.”
“So, listen. After we’ve hidden here for a while and then gone out there and put on the fake smiles for our crappy secret santa gifts, what do you say to you and me getting outta here and going for a beer or something? Y’know where we can actually talk and stuff.”
“Sounds good, man,”
***
And so the curtain draws on our little Christmas tale. But we aren’t so cruel as to leave you there. Instead we shall take the merest glimpse behind the curtains of a festive holiday yet to happen.
“Hey!” Jared called as he closed the front door behind him and followed the weird clanking sounds to the kitchen. He leaned against the doorframe and took a minute to admire the view.
There were bowls, spoons, whisks, egg shells and who knew what else scattered in amongst the mess of flour coating the kitchen and in the midst of it all stood Jensen, looking adorably befuddled while glancing between the bowl of orange looking gloop in his hands and the cookery-book propped open on the toaster.
“Why honey. You baked.”
“Shut up.”
“Aww baby. Don’t get mad. I’m impressed. It’s not every day that a man comes home after a long days work to see his wife preparing a home-cooked meal.”
“Okay dumbass. One, I’m not your fucking wife, I’m your husband. And two, this isn’t a hot dinner, it’s your Mom’s Christmas cookie recipe for when they come visit tomorrow. You might not care, but it’s our first holiday in this home with your…Mmmph.”
And then they were kissing.
Eventually, Jared pulled himself away, tried to look innocent and gestured upwards. “Oh look. Mistletoe.”
The end.
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 2070
Beta: The wonderful ulysses3_de
Disclaimer: All lies
Summary: AU. Let me tell you a tale about a boy who liked another boy.
Notes: For jeyhawk for spn_j2_xmas . I’m not sure it’s recognisable as any of your prompts, but they did inspire this. Honestly. Thanks to moorspede and siubhlach for their handholding.
Stop Me If You Think That You’ve Heard This One Before
“Jaydog! Are you ever going to come out from behind that plant?”
“Don’t call me Jaydog. And no.”
***
“C’mon, dude. A party’s not a party without The Chad and his freakishly tall wingman. You can’t hide all night.”
“Oh, I think you’ll find I can. Wait, did you just call yourself The Chad? What is it with you and bad names today?”
“It’s the holiday spirit. Anyway, chicks dig a man who can talk about himself in the third person.”
“I’m pretty sure they don’t.”
“What do you know, homo?”
“Go away, The Chad.”
***
“Man, this is getting pathetic.”
“Did you bring me any food? I think I saw Steve with some of those really nice shrimp things we had…”
“No. Just. No. You gotta get off your ass and move from this spot. Seriously, you can’t let him get to you man.”
“I know. I just, I can’t. Not again. He’s so…And I’m, y’know me…And it always…No.”
***
Ever since Jared started working at the firm of Kripke, Gamble and Beaver, he had attended every one of their, pretty regular, holiday functions: the Martin Luther King’s day employee picnic, the annual Easter egg hunt, the Independence day BBQ-blow out, Thanksgiving turkey-fest and the Christmas in the office party. For four years he’s come, he’s enjoyed and he’s conquered the buffet table. But now he had officially given up.
And the cause of his woe, you might ask? Well, that was one Jensen Ackles. To get a real idea of what that means, aside from the current need for small shrubbery camouflage, we’re going to have to take a short detour, back to the very beginning of their history.
It was a morning, just like any other, in the summer of 2007. Jared, sweaty and dishevelled from ridiculous Texan heat, entered the lobby of his place of employment. He unplugged the earphones out of his ears, unclipped his iPod, put it in his pocket and then looked up. And it was freeze-frame. There he was. The perfect Adonis of Jared’s fantasies since he’d first discovered his penis and GQ magazine. Measuring mystery-man against the physical criteria hard-wired into Jared’s brain went something like this:
Built? Check. (Nearly as tall as Jared but with leaner hips and broader shoulders)
Glasses? Check (What? Geeks are hot.)
Lips? Check. Check. And check again.
Model cheekbones? Check.
Freckles? Check. (And thank you for whatever childhood event gave him that fetish)
Ass? That’s a check (Hello nirvana)
And now he worked where Jared worked. Unfortunately, there was to be a small hitch in the getting-to-know-you plans. Thanks to Alona Tal’s monthly office newsletter, Jared quickly found out that the Adonis, one Jensen Ackles, was a new accountant at the firm (Smart? Check). The thing was, all the math-inclined people worked on the fourth floor, but Jared, and the rest of the more exuberant PR and marketing folks, worked on the third and so never the twain shall meet, or however that old saying goes.
The first plan had been to think of excuses to visit Jensen’s area. Unfortunately, between himself and cubicle mate Chad, they could think of nothing that wouldn’t make them seem either creepy or retarded.
Plan number two had involved starting a relationship via e-mail contact, but after staring at a blank screen for three solid days that too fell by the wayside.
By the time plan number three was due to get started, Mike and Tom from the next box over had gotten involved and that just made all suggestions either two times dumber or two times crazier.
Eventually Jared was reduced to falling back on the one thing boys of any age can fall back on whether they want to or not, their mommas.
“JT, baby, this isn’t like you. What happened to my outgoing baby-boy who could pick strange men up at a drop of a hat at those gay discotheques you like…”
“Mom!”
“What. You would wear those nice tight shirts and take your friends…Ted? Michael? I think. Whatever happened to them?”
“Oh Christ. Mom. I never did that. You’re getting your only middle child confused with Brian from ‘Queer as Folk’.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes Mom.”
“Well he was hot, honey.”
You’d think that that conversation would have been a complete failure ending in total frustration for our hero, but instead it sparked an idea - a simple, but totally workable idea - to somehow mingle with Jensen at the office social-events. Jared was smart. Jared was funny. Jared was built. He knew these things and he was a confident young man. So he could totally do that. Besides, everyone talked to everyone at those things and once liquor got involved, who knew what magic could happen?
Of course, if things had gone as planned this story would be over, but as you can see words written below, they clearly didn’t.
Thanksgiving 2007: The Rolling Stones lied when they said ‘jumping jack flash is a gas, gas, gas’, because Jared was clearly the gas. Or more widely known as the time Jared farted at the buffet table (to be fair, it came after his second in a row win at the annual ‘who can eat the most turkey dinner in three minutes’ contest) when standing right near Jensen and ran away in a fit of giggles and shame.
Christmas 2007: I’m a monster! Or how Jared thought he was doing a really good job of flirting with Jensen across a crowded room until Chad told him to stop smiling and go sort himself out because most of his meal was stuck in his teeth.
Martin Luther King day 2008: It was a solemn promise amongst all who were there that this event would never be spoken of again. Not even if hushed tones were used.
Easter 2008: Diaper time! Or the infamous occasion where Jared insisted he accidentally sat on a chocolate egg and that was why there was a brown stain on the ass area of his pants.
Independence day 2008: Is that the aurora borealis? Or the time a firework went slightly wrong, flew to the left instead of straight up, and set Jared’s coat on fire just as he stepped up behind Jensen to say hello.
Thanksgiving 2008: In the words of Jon Stewart ‘It’s a catastrofuck’. Or the time Jared tripped over his own pants leg on the way to speak to Jensen and fell face first into Vice-President Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s crotch instead.
So now Jared has given up, feeling himself fated to be denied love and happiness and Jensen. And this leads us back to where we joined the tale, with Jared hiding behind a large potted plant at the 2008 office Christmas party.
But have faith, dear reader, sometimes Christmas miracles do happen.
***
“I know. I just, I can’t. Not again. He’s so…And I’m, y’know me…And it always…No.”
***
“Excuse me. Hi.” A voice interrupted them. “Mind if I hide here with you?”
“Wha...” Jared went to reply, stopping mid-word when he looked up and saw Jensen. A Jensen who was bright red and sweating slightly. “Dude, are you feeling okay? Can I make Chad go get you a glass of water or anything?”
“Nah. I’m good. Really,” he confirmed at Jared’s raised eyebrow.
“Well that’s great.” Chad interrupted, alternating his gaze between the two of them. “You two hide here like whiny little bitches. Meanwhile the Chad is gonna go get his freak on.”
Jared laughed as his friend backed away towards the sounds of frolicking office workers. With his good humor bubbling back to the surface, he turned and smiled at the man now sitting next to him.
“So…Um…Hi. I’m Jensen.”
And at that Jared couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him. “Oh believe me, I know,” he wheezed out.
“Okay.” Jensen said, running a hand over his face, and as an aside added “Not sure why that’s so funny.”
Well, that just made Jared laugh even harder. “Dude, do you know how long I’ve been trying to get your attention?”
“What?”
“Since you first started here, I’ve been all insane stalker guy for you.”
“Uh uh. No way. That’s just not true.” Jensen said incredulously.
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
“Hey. Crazy guy! I think I know better than you how long I’ve been trying to talk to you.”
“No. No way. Now, you’re just trying to re-write history,” he emphatically accused, with lots of finger pointing. “I’m always trying to approach you. And each time you run away.”
“The hell?”
“First damn party here and I see this mountain of man and I’m thinking ‘hallelujah’ and ‘Jesus, he’s hot. And strong looking. Did I mention hot?’ and after ten minutes staring, I finally work up the nerve to come say ‘hey’ and you just fucking flee one second before I get there. Which also meant that I had to spend the next ten minutes making polite chitchat to stinky Kripke who was blowing them off left and right. I suffered for you.” He added dramatically. “And every damn time after that. The same thing. I go to help you up after a fall, you flee. I try to douse you, you flee. To everyone else here you’re all wide, dimpled smiles and ‘let me give you my undivided and sincere attention and show you how attractive I can be’ all the time, but for me…Well, it was like you hated me.”
“Hated you? Are you insane. I can’t even look at you without drooling and going all starry-eyed. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I’ve wanted in your pants and in your ass since day one. Yup, day one. In fact, day one, second one to be precise. Standing there in the lobby looking all clean-shaven and sparkly with your lips and your freckles and your hair. And now, now you’re here being all weird and hysterical and guess what?”
“What?” Jensen asked meekly, following Jared’s outburst.
“I just like you even damn more.”
“Oh,” Jensen blushed.
“Yeah, oh,” Jared replied victoriously. “What’ve you got to say about that?”
There was a long pause. Finally Jensen came back with “Okay. To sum up. You like me?” Here Jared nodded. “I like you. We’re finally talking to each other. But we’re using the opportunity to argue instead of flirt. We’re being pretty stupid.”
“Oh yeah.” Jared concurred. “But I think it would sound better if you changed argue to something along the lines of passionate disagreement or emotional fire-works…”
“Wow. I really didn’t think you’d want to hear about the word fire-works ever again.”
“Yeah, to see them, that’s just…No. But we can still feel them, right?”
“Sure.”
“So, listen. After we’ve hidden here for a while and then gone out there and put on the fake smiles for our crappy secret santa gifts, what do you say to you and me getting outta here and going for a beer or something? Y’know where we can actually talk and stuff.”
“Sounds good, man,”
***
And so the curtain draws on our little Christmas tale. But we aren’t so cruel as to leave you there. Instead we shall take the merest glimpse behind the curtains of a festive holiday yet to happen.
“Hey!” Jared called as he closed the front door behind him and followed the weird clanking sounds to the kitchen. He leaned against the doorframe and took a minute to admire the view.
There were bowls, spoons, whisks, egg shells and who knew what else scattered in amongst the mess of flour coating the kitchen and in the midst of it all stood Jensen, looking adorably befuddled while glancing between the bowl of orange looking gloop in his hands and the cookery-book propped open on the toaster.
“Why honey. You baked.”
“Shut up.”
“Aww baby. Don’t get mad. I’m impressed. It’s not every day that a man comes home after a long days work to see his wife preparing a home-cooked meal.”
“Okay dumbass. One, I’m not your fucking wife, I’m your husband. And two, this isn’t a hot dinner, it’s your Mom’s Christmas cookie recipe for when they come visit tomorrow. You might not care, but it’s our first holiday in this home with your…Mmmph.”
And then they were kissing.
Eventually, Jared pulled himself away, tried to look innocent and gestured upwards. “Oh look. Mistletoe.”
The end.