Basketball BLOWS
This is all babyofthegroup's fault. I hate you. Like I hate basketball and Taylor Hicks, may he die a horrible, flailing death on stage tonight.
So, the Mavericks beat the Spurs last night, and usually I wouldn't give a crap because it's not hockey, but Jensen is a Mavs fan and Jared is a Spurs fan, them being from Texas and having to love every sport available except for the pussy ones like golf and tennis, and we all know that Jensen is probably gloating somewhere right now demanding sexual favors gloating. Therefore:
Spurs Are for Bitches, A Tale of Love and Woe in Basketball
Jared/Jensen
Blah blah you know the drill
"That's right, bitch. I fucking OWN you now."
This is how Jensen responds to the Mavs beating the Spurs, which is why Jared was sort of against the whole betting thing in the first place, but how could he not after Jensen's muttered comments during that WB interview in New York, all, "He knows better," like Jared is some kind of kid who minds his betters, do what I say don't do what I do, but dude-fuck that shit, because Jared is no one's bitch.
No one's. No matter how many times Jensen says it, it's never going to be true.
"It's just a game, Jensen," Jared says and pretends like he means it, but really? This is pretty fucking disappointing. The Spurs were supposed to win, damnit. They were supposed to win and Jared was supposed to be the one waving his beer around and gloating all over the place like he just single-handedly stopped the Iranians from enriching uranium or ended genocide or fixed the serious traffic issues on 35-North. But they didn't, and now all he's got is Jensen's cocky-as-hell smirk and a low feeling in his gut, like something terrible is about to happen or possibly he should switch to tequila because Jensen's frou frou beer (seriously-who imports Belgian beer? That doesn't even have a recognizable flavor?) is clearly not getting the job done.
"Didja hear me, bitch? I own you."
"Kinda hard not to hear you when you're yelling in my fucking ear, dude." Jared glares at his beer-really, he's pretty sure that the world's problems can be traced back to bad beer and smug pretty boys with no sense-and refuses to look at Jensen and his stupid smug face that is getting way too close to Jared's in some sort of gloating attempt to make 'in your face' literal.
"Awww, come on now, boy. We cross?"
A slanted glance to the left and Jensen is grinning that shit-eating grin that makes Jared want to punch him just for the hell of it, and damnit, he fucking hates when Jensen does that put-on country accent. He got that shit from Chris, Jared is pretty sure, because he's never heard anyone from DFW sound that degree of redneck in his life.
"Fuck you."
"Don't be like that, baby. Just because you lost and I won doesn't mean you have to start taking it in the ass."
Jared can feel himself turning red. Fucking feel it, and now he sort of wishes he had just punched Jensen right in his pretty face because seriously? This is not okay. It's bad enough when a man's team loses, but to mock said man to this extent afterwards is just asking to get your ass beat. And Jensen, he's drunk and he's got no idea when to quit, not that he ever does sober, either, but this is getting ridiculous, way out of proportion considering-
"It's just a game, man."
Jensen just giggles-fucking giggles, because he's drunk off bad Belgian beer and his own ego, like he won the damned game his own self or some shit-and throws his arms around Jared's neck in more of a strangle than a hug, like Jared is some sucker who'll fall for that old trick, no way in fucking hell he's gonna let Jensen Ackles get him in a headlock. He may be a bitch but he's no pussy, that's for damn sure.
"That's not what you said last night when we made the bet," Jensen grins, and his arms tighten like he's about to try something, but Jared is on to that shit and there is no way he's moving, no how.
"Blow me." Jared makes the mistake of actually meeting Jensen's eyes, and the look in them, bright with pupils blown wide (boy is fucking out of it) and satisfied as fuck with himself, is enough to make him want to do something really stupid like hit him, or maybe kiss him, the whole thing is very confusing and maybe Jared's a little drunker than he thought, or maybe he's a lot drunker, because when Jensen whispers in his ear he is suddenly, achingly hard. For Jensen, that little cunt. This is so not okay like, by any stretch of the imagination.
"Maybe later." Jensen grins, leaning back on the couch and stretching his legs out in front of him, casual as hell like he can't see Jared's hard-on trying its best to poke through denim. "But since you're the bitch in this here scenario… me first."
Rants later. Hurrah!
So, the Mavericks beat the Spurs last night, and usually I wouldn't give a crap because it's not hockey, but Jensen is a Mavs fan and Jared is a Spurs fan, them being from Texas and having to love every sport available except for the pussy ones like golf and tennis, and we all know that Jensen is probably gloating somewhere right now demanding sexual favors gloating. Therefore:
Spurs Are for Bitches, A Tale of Love and Woe in Basketball
Jared/Jensen
Blah blah you know the drill
"That's right, bitch. I fucking OWN you now."
This is how Jensen responds to the Mavs beating the Spurs, which is why Jared was sort of against the whole betting thing in the first place, but how could he not after Jensen's muttered comments during that WB interview in New York, all, "He knows better," like Jared is some kind of kid who minds his betters, do what I say don't do what I do, but dude-fuck that shit, because Jared is no one's bitch.
No one's. No matter how many times Jensen says it, it's never going to be true.
"It's just a game, Jensen," Jared says and pretends like he means it, but really? This is pretty fucking disappointing. The Spurs were supposed to win, damnit. They were supposed to win and Jared was supposed to be the one waving his beer around and gloating all over the place like he just single-handedly stopped the Iranians from enriching uranium or ended genocide or fixed the serious traffic issues on 35-North. But they didn't, and now all he's got is Jensen's cocky-as-hell smirk and a low feeling in his gut, like something terrible is about to happen or possibly he should switch to tequila because Jensen's frou frou beer (seriously-who imports Belgian beer? That doesn't even have a recognizable flavor?) is clearly not getting the job done.
"Didja hear me, bitch? I own you."
"Kinda hard not to hear you when you're yelling in my fucking ear, dude." Jared glares at his beer-really, he's pretty sure that the world's problems can be traced back to bad beer and smug pretty boys with no sense-and refuses to look at Jensen and his stupid smug face that is getting way too close to Jared's in some sort of gloating attempt to make 'in your face' literal.
"Awww, come on now, boy. We cross?"
A slanted glance to the left and Jensen is grinning that shit-eating grin that makes Jared want to punch him just for the hell of it, and damnit, he fucking hates when Jensen does that put-on country accent. He got that shit from Chris, Jared is pretty sure, because he's never heard anyone from DFW sound that degree of redneck in his life.
"Fuck you."
"Don't be like that, baby. Just because you lost and I won doesn't mean you have to start taking it in the ass."
Jared can feel himself turning red. Fucking feel it, and now he sort of wishes he had just punched Jensen right in his pretty face because seriously? This is not okay. It's bad enough when a man's team loses, but to mock said man to this extent afterwards is just asking to get your ass beat. And Jensen, he's drunk and he's got no idea when to quit, not that he ever does sober, either, but this is getting ridiculous, way out of proportion considering-
"It's just a game, man."
Jensen just giggles-fucking giggles, because he's drunk off bad Belgian beer and his own ego, like he won the damned game his own self or some shit-and throws his arms around Jared's neck in more of a strangle than a hug, like Jared is some sucker who'll fall for that old trick, no way in fucking hell he's gonna let Jensen Ackles get him in a headlock. He may be a bitch but he's no pussy, that's for damn sure.
"That's not what you said last night when we made the bet," Jensen grins, and his arms tighten like he's about to try something, but Jared is on to that shit and there is no way he's moving, no how.
"Blow me." Jared makes the mistake of actually meeting Jensen's eyes, and the look in them, bright with pupils blown wide (boy is fucking out of it) and satisfied as fuck with himself, is enough to make him want to do something really stupid like hit him, or maybe kiss him, the whole thing is very confusing and maybe Jared's a little drunker than he thought, or maybe he's a lot drunker, because when Jensen whispers in his ear he is suddenly, achingly hard. For Jensen, that little cunt. This is so not okay like, by any stretch of the imagination.
"Maybe later." Jensen grins, leaning back on the couch and stretching his legs out in front of him, casual as hell like he can't see Jared's hard-on trying its best to poke through denim. "But since you're the bitch in this here scenario… me first."
Rants later. Hurrah!