Ficlet: Wifey | Jensen/Jared | Adult
Wifey
Fandom: CWRPS
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: Adultish
Disclaimer: Lies.
Comments: babyofthegroup requested a fic for six months after his ridiculously fabulous, With This Ring, which if you haven't read, go do that.
Things Jared likes about getting married include, but are not limited to: all the presents, sex whenever he wants it, not having to make up excuses to see Jensen everyday even when he doesn't want sex (which, really, isn't ever, but it's the principle of the thing that counts), and the jealous adoration of thousands of women. It's almost worth the rampant gay jokes on set and the way Chad has taken to greeting him when they talk on the phone: "So, are you divorced yet?"
No one seems to believe that they're going to last, but it's been six months since the wedding and almost two years since they first met and Jared still feels the same. He still wants to be touching Jensen whenever they're in the same room, and really, whenever they're not. He still has the uncontrollable urge to do nice things for Jensen. Like yesterday, he cooked dinner and spent three hours making his gran's secret apple pie recipe that he had to trick her into giving him in the first place, and even if he burnt the roast, the pie turned out really well and Jensen fingered him on the kitchen table in appreciation.
Jensen, Jared thinks, has the uncontrollable urge to do nice things for Jared, too, even if they had to wipe down the table with industrial-strength disinfectant afterwards.
Things Jared hates about getting married include: writing thank you notes, living in the Bush Administration, and letters from the HRC. But for now, it's thank you notes, which were probably invented by Satan himself and really, there's no way in hell his friends and family actually expect this sort of shit. He and Jensen are gay, not belles, but Jensen gave him a ten minute lecture on being polite and doing things the right way and how people will think they're rude and backwater if they don't do it, which somehow ends up in Jared writing all the notes while Jensen drinks beer and watches the Canadiens lose spectacularly. And yeah, this is definitely the part of getting married that Jared hates.
Jared has a system. There's an index card for every gift they got, and a guest list with addresses and everything. He spreads the cards out on the living room floor, box of thank you notes and three fresh black pilot pens next to him, and then he just stares. This is too hard, and he doesn't want to do it, and thank you notes are for pussies. They don't need a new juicer that's bigger than Sadie, for serious. They should just send all this shit back and not worry about it.
"Uh, Jen? Jensen? Who got us the monogrammed towels? Because first, I think they don't deserve a thank you note for such an incredibly lame gift that we didn't even register for-"
"I did. I, uh, I did it the day you had to see about the thing with the cake."
"Wait, so those things are your fault? We could've gotten, like, something actually useful and cool, but you went and registered for fucking towels with our initials on them instead?"
"The woman at Bed Bath and Beyond made me do it! She said it's important to have a fresh start in married life, and um. Something about combining two worlds and souls colliding in blissful harmony. I don't know, it sounded good. And they're pretty."
"They're pink."
"You like pink!"
Jared really can't argue with that. He thinks probably his cousin Mary got them for him, it seems like something she would find hilariously funny. He's pretty sure she's also responsible for the Bert and Ernie sheet set, which actually is funny and Jared likes to put on the bed for special occasions, because it freaks Jensen out so much. The last time, Jensen refused to have sex on a bed that also contained Bert and Ernie because "I watched that show with my brother, dude, that's just sick," so they had to fuck on the floor. Jared had rug burn on his left knee for three days after, and every time his jeans rubbed against his leg while filming in perpetual Vancouver drizzle or driving home from the grocery or wherever, he remembered Jensen muttering, "Fuck, J, yeah" and the feel of Jensen's hand pressing low on his back.
Jared writes the note, frowns, rubs his dick through his pants. Thinking about Bert and Ernie shouldn't get him hard. He's never going to be able to watch Sesame Street with his kids, that's for fucking sure.
"Dude, you know we have a bedroom for that," Jensen says, eyes slanted toward him, lips curled in a small smile. "And believe me, my dad's not gonna appreciate your jizz all over his thank you."
"Blow me," Jared says. He doesn't stop touching himself. He has a nice dick, he thinks, and it's way better than trying to figure out who gave them the blender that they've only ever used once, when Chris visited, to make margaritas. "No, really. Get your ass over here and blow me."
Jensen laughs and takes a swig from his beer. "What am I, your sex slave?"
"No," Jared says, wraps his fingers around Jensen's wrist and tugs until Jensen slides off the couch and onto the floor between Jared's splayed legs. "No," Jared says again, grinning, "You’re my wife."
Fandom: CWRPS
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: Adultish
Disclaimer: Lies.
Comments: babyofthegroup requested a fic for six months after his ridiculously fabulous, With This Ring, which if you haven't read, go do that.
Things Jared likes about getting married include, but are not limited to: all the presents, sex whenever he wants it, not having to make up excuses to see Jensen everyday even when he doesn't want sex (which, really, isn't ever, but it's the principle of the thing that counts), and the jealous adoration of thousands of women. It's almost worth the rampant gay jokes on set and the way Chad has taken to greeting him when they talk on the phone: "So, are you divorced yet?"
No one seems to believe that they're going to last, but it's been six months since the wedding and almost two years since they first met and Jared still feels the same. He still wants to be touching Jensen whenever they're in the same room, and really, whenever they're not. He still has the uncontrollable urge to do nice things for Jensen. Like yesterday, he cooked dinner and spent three hours making his gran's secret apple pie recipe that he had to trick her into giving him in the first place, and even if he burnt the roast, the pie turned out really well and Jensen fingered him on the kitchen table in appreciation.
Jensen, Jared thinks, has the uncontrollable urge to do nice things for Jared, too, even if they had to wipe down the table with industrial-strength disinfectant afterwards.
Things Jared hates about getting married include: writing thank you notes, living in the Bush Administration, and letters from the HRC. But for now, it's thank you notes, which were probably invented by Satan himself and really, there's no way in hell his friends and family actually expect this sort of shit. He and Jensen are gay, not belles, but Jensen gave him a ten minute lecture on being polite and doing things the right way and how people will think they're rude and backwater if they don't do it, which somehow ends up in Jared writing all the notes while Jensen drinks beer and watches the Canadiens lose spectacularly. And yeah, this is definitely the part of getting married that Jared hates.
Jared has a system. There's an index card for every gift they got, and a guest list with addresses and everything. He spreads the cards out on the living room floor, box of thank you notes and three fresh black pilot pens next to him, and then he just stares. This is too hard, and he doesn't want to do it, and thank you notes are for pussies. They don't need a new juicer that's bigger than Sadie, for serious. They should just send all this shit back and not worry about it.
"Uh, Jen? Jensen? Who got us the monogrammed towels? Because first, I think they don't deserve a thank you note for such an incredibly lame gift that we didn't even register for-"
"I did. I, uh, I did it the day you had to see about the thing with the cake."
"Wait, so those things are your fault? We could've gotten, like, something actually useful and cool, but you went and registered for fucking towels with our initials on them instead?"
"The woman at Bed Bath and Beyond made me do it! She said it's important to have a fresh start in married life, and um. Something about combining two worlds and souls colliding in blissful harmony. I don't know, it sounded good. And they're pretty."
"They're pink."
"You like pink!"
Jared really can't argue with that. He thinks probably his cousin Mary got them for him, it seems like something she would find hilariously funny. He's pretty sure she's also responsible for the Bert and Ernie sheet set, which actually is funny and Jared likes to put on the bed for special occasions, because it freaks Jensen out so much. The last time, Jensen refused to have sex on a bed that also contained Bert and Ernie because "I watched that show with my brother, dude, that's just sick," so they had to fuck on the floor. Jared had rug burn on his left knee for three days after, and every time his jeans rubbed against his leg while filming in perpetual Vancouver drizzle or driving home from the grocery or wherever, he remembered Jensen muttering, "Fuck, J, yeah" and the feel of Jensen's hand pressing low on his back.
Jared writes the note, frowns, rubs his dick through his pants. Thinking about Bert and Ernie shouldn't get him hard. He's never going to be able to watch Sesame Street with his kids, that's for fucking sure.
"Dude, you know we have a bedroom for that," Jensen says, eyes slanted toward him, lips curled in a small smile. "And believe me, my dad's not gonna appreciate your jizz all over his thank you."
"Blow me," Jared says. He doesn't stop touching himself. He has a nice dick, he thinks, and it's way better than trying to figure out who gave them the blender that they've only ever used once, when Chris visited, to make margaritas. "No, really. Get your ass over here and blow me."
Jensen laughs and takes a swig from his beer. "What am I, your sex slave?"
"No," Jared says, wraps his fingers around Jensen's wrist and tugs until Jensen slides off the couch and onto the floor between Jared's splayed legs. "No," Jared says again, grinning, "You’re my wife."