Comment Fic
So, I woke up at 5:30 this morning with an upset stomach and starting watching The World Series of Poker on ESPN, as you do, until it was time to get ready for work. It was there that I heard this quote (I have no idea who to credit for this as I know nothing about the pro Poker circuit. I know he was wearing a hat. And sunglasses.): "Lady Luck
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The fact that Jensen wasn't in bed when Jared awoke this morning wasn't really a huge deal; they rarely wake up together since the show ended, schedules completely opposite in almost every way. The fact that a toe-headed seven-year-old swung his feet at their kitchen table, slurped milk from a cereal bowl, and claimed to actually be Jensen was new, though.
The weirdest thing isn't that he looks like Jensen, or pictures his mother has shown Jared a few times, but that he still acts just like Jensen. From the way he looked up at Jared first thing this morning, raised one eyebrow and asked, “What?” like Jared was the one who didn't belong, to the way he pumped his fist while playing video games and declared, “I'm awesome,” every time he beat Jared, he's been all Jensen all day.
He's just pint-sized and prone to throwing tantrums at the drop of a hat if Jared doesn't give in and let him have his way now. So, ya know, basically he's just shorter.
“Dude, stop staring at me,” Jensen says after something like eight hours as a kid. He's curled up at the end of the couch, pillow to his chest, watching Dexter.
It's ridiculous to feel guilty for letting Jensen watch a television series that he owns on DVD but there's something about this kid version of him watching bloody murders that isn't setting right with Jared. As though any part of this day is setting right with him.
He'd love to stop staring, like Jensen asks, but he can't. Yesterday, he was thirty-two, over six feet tall, broad shoulders and smoldering, deep voice. Today, he's seven. Jared has often said that his life is not like other people's but this fucking ridiculous.
Standing, he heads into the kitchen, grabs a beer from the refrigerator and heads back to the couch. He's going to need a hell of a lot more alcohol to get through the rest of the day. He chugs half the beer in one, long gulp before he notices Jensen glaring at him.
“What?” he asks, bottle making a loud, suctioning noise against Jared's lip when he pulls it away.
With a shrug of his shoulders and a raise of his eyebrows, Jensen says, “Where's mine?” while motioning to Jared's bottle.
Jared barks a short laugh. “Are you kidding me? Dude, you're miniature. I'm not givin' you beer.”
“It's not like I'm actually seven, ya know? I just look it.”
If Jared didn't know better, he would swear Jensen is pouting. “Yeah, well until you look thirty again, I'm not givin' you alcohol.”
“Bastard,” Jensen mutters under his breath, hugging his pillow tighter to his chest.
It would be cute if it wasn't so fucked up, Jared thinks.
As one episode bleeds into another on the screen, Jared hears Jensen whisper, barely audible, “Not even my fuckin' fault this shit happened. You're the goddamn genius who said it. Asshole.”
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“Last night? The fight?”
In all of today's madness, Jared almost forgot that they'd been fighting last night. Jensen came home late, drunk from hitting a bar with some of the guys from his new film, generally being a dick. It wasn't exactly new; Jensen's always a dick when he's drunk.
Jared told him he was acting childish and Jensen made some quip about Jared spanking him. The innuendo was clear; Jared wasn't feeling all that sexual, what with Jensen stumbling over his own feet, so he fired back that he would, if Jensen was seven.
It's ludicrous, this notion that Jared has the power to de-age Jensen with his words, so he laughs.
Jensen doesn't.
“Oh, come on,” Jared protests, waving his arms helplessly. “By that logic, you should change back if I spank you.” The very idea is so preposterous that Jared laughs again.
Instead of rebutting, Jensen crawls across the couch, his little hands and feet making indentations in the cushions as he moves. He drapes himself over Jared's lap and arches his ass into the air. “Get to it.”
The shove isn't supposed to knock Jensen to the floor but Jared forgets that he doesn't weigh as much as usual so Jensen goes tumbling off of his legs and nearly hits his head on the coffee table.
With a snarl, Jensen sits up and rubs the back of his head. “I hate you so fucking much,” he hisses.
“I'm not spanking you!”
Jared feels bad about knocking him down but this is getting even weirder than it has been and he's not sure how to handle it.
“What if it's the only way?”
“I'm not turning you over my knee! It's skeezy and creepy and gross!”
Throwing his arms up, Jensen fires back, “I didn't ask you to fuck me first. Jesus! Just … I don't wanna be a kid forever, Jared!” His bottom lip begins to quiver, big eyes filling with tears that he quickly tries to blink back before Jared can see them. “Dammit,” he whispers, lowering his head to stare at his bare feet.
Fuck if Jared doesn't cave. For one thing, he's never been good with crying kids. For another, it's still Jensen and if Jared can save him by smacking his ass, he might as well try.
“Okay, come here,” he concedes, sitting back on the couch and holding out a hand for Jensen.
Immediately, the tears dry up - so quickly that Jared realizes they were probably fake - and he scrambles over to the couch.
“Not on my lap,” Jared insists. This is weird enough without touching any more of him than he has to right now. “Just, I don't know. Face that way,” he points toward the other end of the couch.
Jensen does, leaning forward to brace himself on his hands and knees. Jared watches Jensen brace himself for the impact and lifts his hand to deliver what he hopes will be a healing blow.
“If this doesn't work, I want you to know,” he says, smirking when Jensen looks back over his shoulder, “I'm sending you home to your mommy.”
“Oh, fuck you,” is the last thing Jared hears Jensen say in his tiny, seven-year-old voice.
A thunderous cracking sound and a bright light follow Jared's hand against Jensen's skin. The next thing he knows, Jensen is sprawled across the couch on his stomach, foot pressed against Jared's cheek, fully adult. This time, when Jared tires to push him away, Jensen doesn't budge.
Jared has never been so glad to see someone in his entire life.
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Thank you SO MUCH for this. ♥
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Thanks for pimpin' it over on your page, too - you're the awesomest!
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