Fic: A Tall Cool Drink (1/1)
Title: A Tall Cool Drink
Author: firesign10
Beta: zara_zee
Pairing(s): pre-J2
Word Count: 1400
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Not even close to real, folks
Summary: Jensen and his friends hit the park to scope out a sexy gardener.
Notes: Based on the sexy gardener Coke ad and prompted by wings128! Many thanks to zara_zee for a super-fast and solid beta!
[Click to open]
"Just wait and see, you guys! This is so gonna be worth it!"
Jensen nods emphatically to assure the others that he knows of which he speaks. Chad scoffs as he sits down on the blanket they've spread across the grass. Aldis jostles against him, wrestling the cooler into the center of the blanket. Chad shoves back at Aldis and Jensen both.
"C'mon, you morons, give a guy some space!" He huffs and settles back down next to Jensen. Chris laughs at him from Jensen's other side.
"Jeez, everybody, chill out," says Steve. "I'm here to watch some landscaping magic!" He chuckles, and it spreads through all of them.
"So what is the big deal here, Jensen? Why did we have to come today at 2:00 pm sharp? Not that this park ain't beautiful and all, but still." Aldis asks. He pops a cold can of soda and glugs some down.
Jensen smirks at them. "Oh, just wait. It's big, alright. Hoo boy, is it big." He fans himself with a paper plate. "Hot enough, y'all? We got plenty of cold soda in there?"
Aldis pats the cooler with satisfaction. "Plenty. Sandwiches are in the other cooler next to Steve there, if you're hungry."
"Oh, I'm hungry, yes indeed. Just not for a sandwich right now." Jensen chuckles as his eyes scan the verdant lawn before them. He'd had them settle on top of a rise in the park, and the grass spreads out in a lush sweep below them. The view is lovely, and he knows that they won't miss anyone coming near them.
He checks his watch, and Chris jogs his arm. "Whatcha waiting for, Jenny boy? Got a hot date on the way?" He snickers and Jensen elbows him back.
"Something like that..."
The distant growl of a lawnmower draws nearer, and Jensen's head snaps in that direction. The others also look, intrigued by his reaction. They gaze to the right as the lawnmower comes into view.
And the man behind the mower.
Silence falls across the blanket as Chris, Steve, Aldis, Chad, and Jensen all watch the approach of the lawnmower and its pilot. As he gets closer, he leaves the haze of sunlight and comes into clearer view.
"Damn," whispers Chad. Aldis nods in agreement.
The gardener is tall. Really tall, and Jensen's six one himself. Might be taller than Aldis even. His hair is long, dark brown but in the sunlight, it's shot with chestnut highlights. It curls around his neck and flops into his eyes, judging by the way he lifts his arm to sweep it away, only to have it fall again in half-a-dozen steps. Broad shoulders, a deep chest, which a gray T-shirt struggles to cover, pulling tight across the chest and over the meaty biceps. It hangs loose as it falls, obscuring his waist.
"Those legs should be fucking illegal," murmurs Steve, who--fuck, is he adjusting himself? Jensen whacks the back of his head. "Hey! What the fuck, man!" Steve complains.
Jensen glares at him. "Really, dude? You got a boner already? You're a pig." He looks back at the gardener, who's running a hand through that glorious hair. His forehead is high and strong, his nose sharp and pointy, and his jaw is everything the Marlboro Man could have wished for.
"Like a goddamn sculpture," breathes Aldis. "Mmm mmm mmmm!"
The gardener is getting closer all the time, and Jensen reaches behind him, scrabbling at the cooler. He fishes out a can of soda, and damn, it is cold alright. As soon as it hits the hot air, condensation starts to bead up on the sides.
"Hey, you already got a soda, Jenny." Chris pokes at him. "What, you need more gas?"
"Ain't for me, asshole," Jensen retorts. He looks at the gardener, then straight down the hill they're sitting on. He hefts the can in his hand, looks over again, down again.
Plop.
The can rolls down the grade, bumping along over the grass. They all watch, holding their breath, as the can and the lawnmower continue on the paths that will--inevitably--lead to intersection.
The can stops as the mower quiets; the soda quivers next to the motor, the silver glinting in the sunlight.
The gardener bends--oh, so low--and picks the soda up. A faintly puzzled look crosses his face. He looks around and--
Boom. They can tell when he spies them. His face clears, his head cocks just a little, a hint of a smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
Jensen spares a thought for how pink, how wide, that mouth is before he gestures. Miming taking a drink, he nods to the gardener. Behind him, the others smile and chuckle.
The gardener smiles and shit, he's got dimples like whoa. Jensen's dick stiffens inside his jeans and he kicks himself for being such a sap. Just...son of a bitch, those dimples are gorgeous.
They all watch avidly while the gardener fumbles for the pop tab on the slippery, wet can. He finds it, pulls it, and--
Sparkling in the sun like chocolate diamonds, the soda sprays lavishly all over the gardener. The can's roll down the hill and its moments next to the vibrating motor shook it up so that now it's a fountain of carbonated sweetness, soaking his shirt through, dowsing his hair. He shakes his head and that long, luscious hair sweeps back and forth, drops of soda raining to either side. He looks at the group--at Jensen--with a wry expression, as liquid continues soaking into his gray T-shirt and turning it to the color of wet concrete.
The blanket explodes in hilarity. Jensen's cheeks hurt, he's laughing so hard. The others are no better, howling with laughter at the soda explosion, clapping each other on the back or shoulder like they were each responsible for it.
Then the gardener moves, and Jensen gasps. Like a signal to the pack, they all quiet down at that and focus on the soda-soaked man on the grass below.
He reaches down with those well-muscled arms and grabs the hem of the wet shirt. Slowly he pulls it up, peeling the material from his...from his body...
A dark treasure trail is revealed as the fabric lifts, coarse hair leading thickly from his navel to below the waistband of his jeans. Next they see rippled abs, so defined that Jensen wants to either cry or lick every single one. Repeatedly.
He's transfixed, and he senses the men behind him are too, their eyes glued to the sight below. The T-shirt is up, up, and over his head, and Jensen's mouth goes dry at the sight of that chest. Heavily muscled, yet carved to perfection, the pecs a broad arc punctuated by brown nipples, a scruff of dark hair across his sternum. His shoulders are massive, smooth curves, and Jensen doesn't think he's ever seen definition like that outside of a men's magazine.
"Damn, breathes Aldis. Jensen hears a strangled noise that he knows without looking is Chad. He can't fucking swallow, so he raises his own soda and gulps mechanically.
The gardener shakes his hair back again, droplets flying, and proceeds to squeeze the shirt out. Jensen gets ridiculously hard as he watches those magnificent pecs flex, the muscles shifting and twitching with his movements.
Jensen's dick is feeling pretty fucking twitchy itself right now. He shifts a little to try and give himself a little more room.
The gardener stuffs his shirt into a back pocket, like he's at some hot club. He looks up at Jensen again, that enigmatic half-smile on his face. Jensen shivers with lust from the dirty wink that's sent his way, and the other men hoot and rough-house around him.
"Assholes," Jensen mutters, his eyes still fixed on the tall, lean figure of the gardener, who now turns away and resumes his mowing. He leaves them with a farewell sight of his long back, as exquisitely chiseled as his front, and the now-visible, sexy swing of his hips. Faded blue jeans cling to an ass that can only be described as perfect and perky.
Jensen is completely hard now, and he doesn't dare stand up, he can't hide his arousal. Aldis, Chad, Steve, and Chris are all discussing the various attributes of the gardener and their prank, but Jensen...
Jensen's busy thinking about meeting that tall, cool drink of a man and how they'll heat things up.
Author: firesign10
Beta: zara_zee
Pairing(s): pre-J2
Word Count: 1400
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Not even close to real, folks
Summary: Jensen and his friends hit the park to scope out a sexy gardener.
Notes: Based on the sexy gardener Coke ad and prompted by wings128! Many thanks to zara_zee for a super-fast and solid beta!
[Click to open]
"Just wait and see, you guys! This is so gonna be worth it!"
Jensen nods emphatically to assure the others that he knows of which he speaks. Chad scoffs as he sits down on the blanket they've spread across the grass. Aldis jostles against him, wrestling the cooler into the center of the blanket. Chad shoves back at Aldis and Jensen both.
"C'mon, you morons, give a guy some space!" He huffs and settles back down next to Jensen. Chris laughs at him from Jensen's other side.
"Jeez, everybody, chill out," says Steve. "I'm here to watch some landscaping magic!" He chuckles, and it spreads through all of them.
"So what is the big deal here, Jensen? Why did we have to come today at 2:00 pm sharp? Not that this park ain't beautiful and all, but still." Aldis asks. He pops a cold can of soda and glugs some down.
Jensen smirks at them. "Oh, just wait. It's big, alright. Hoo boy, is it big." He fans himself with a paper plate. "Hot enough, y'all? We got plenty of cold soda in there?"
Aldis pats the cooler with satisfaction. "Plenty. Sandwiches are in the other cooler next to Steve there, if you're hungry."
"Oh, I'm hungry, yes indeed. Just not for a sandwich right now." Jensen chuckles as his eyes scan the verdant lawn before them. He'd had them settle on top of a rise in the park, and the grass spreads out in a lush sweep below them. The view is lovely, and he knows that they won't miss anyone coming near them.
He checks his watch, and Chris jogs his arm. "Whatcha waiting for, Jenny boy? Got a hot date on the way?" He snickers and Jensen elbows him back.
"Something like that..."
The distant growl of a lawnmower draws nearer, and Jensen's head snaps in that direction. The others also look, intrigued by his reaction. They gaze to the right as the lawnmower comes into view.
And the man behind the mower.
Silence falls across the blanket as Chris, Steve, Aldis, Chad, and Jensen all watch the approach of the lawnmower and its pilot. As he gets closer, he leaves the haze of sunlight and comes into clearer view.
"Damn," whispers Chad. Aldis nods in agreement.
The gardener is tall. Really tall, and Jensen's six one himself. Might be taller than Aldis even. His hair is long, dark brown but in the sunlight, it's shot with chestnut highlights. It curls around his neck and flops into his eyes, judging by the way he lifts his arm to sweep it away, only to have it fall again in half-a-dozen steps. Broad shoulders, a deep chest, which a gray T-shirt struggles to cover, pulling tight across the chest and over the meaty biceps. It hangs loose as it falls, obscuring his waist.
"Those legs should be fucking illegal," murmurs Steve, who--fuck, is he adjusting himself? Jensen whacks the back of his head. "Hey! What the fuck, man!" Steve complains.
Jensen glares at him. "Really, dude? You got a boner already? You're a pig." He looks back at the gardener, who's running a hand through that glorious hair. His forehead is high and strong, his nose sharp and pointy, and his jaw is everything the Marlboro Man could have wished for.
"Like a goddamn sculpture," breathes Aldis. "Mmm mmm mmmm!"
The gardener is getting closer all the time, and Jensen reaches behind him, scrabbling at the cooler. He fishes out a can of soda, and damn, it is cold alright. As soon as it hits the hot air, condensation starts to bead up on the sides.
"Hey, you already got a soda, Jenny." Chris pokes at him. "What, you need more gas?"
"Ain't for me, asshole," Jensen retorts. He looks at the gardener, then straight down the hill they're sitting on. He hefts the can in his hand, looks over again, down again.
Plop.
The can rolls down the grade, bumping along over the grass. They all watch, holding their breath, as the can and the lawnmower continue on the paths that will--inevitably--lead to intersection.
The can stops as the mower quiets; the soda quivers next to the motor, the silver glinting in the sunlight.
The gardener bends--oh, so low--and picks the soda up. A faintly puzzled look crosses his face. He looks around and--
Boom. They can tell when he spies them. His face clears, his head cocks just a little, a hint of a smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
Jensen spares a thought for how pink, how wide, that mouth is before he gestures. Miming taking a drink, he nods to the gardener. Behind him, the others smile and chuckle.
The gardener smiles and shit, he's got dimples like whoa. Jensen's dick stiffens inside his jeans and he kicks himself for being such a sap. Just...son of a bitch, those dimples are gorgeous.
They all watch avidly while the gardener fumbles for the pop tab on the slippery, wet can. He finds it, pulls it, and--
Sparkling in the sun like chocolate diamonds, the soda sprays lavishly all over the gardener. The can's roll down the hill and its moments next to the vibrating motor shook it up so that now it's a fountain of carbonated sweetness, soaking his shirt through, dowsing his hair. He shakes his head and that long, luscious hair sweeps back and forth, drops of soda raining to either side. He looks at the group--at Jensen--with a wry expression, as liquid continues soaking into his gray T-shirt and turning it to the color of wet concrete.
The blanket explodes in hilarity. Jensen's cheeks hurt, he's laughing so hard. The others are no better, howling with laughter at the soda explosion, clapping each other on the back or shoulder like they were each responsible for it.
Then the gardener moves, and Jensen gasps. Like a signal to the pack, they all quiet down at that and focus on the soda-soaked man on the grass below.
He reaches down with those well-muscled arms and grabs the hem of the wet shirt. Slowly he pulls it up, peeling the material from his...from his body...
A dark treasure trail is revealed as the fabric lifts, coarse hair leading thickly from his navel to below the waistband of his jeans. Next they see rippled abs, so defined that Jensen wants to either cry or lick every single one. Repeatedly.
He's transfixed, and he senses the men behind him are too, their eyes glued to the sight below. The T-shirt is up, up, and over his head, and Jensen's mouth goes dry at the sight of that chest. Heavily muscled, yet carved to perfection, the pecs a broad arc punctuated by brown nipples, a scruff of dark hair across his sternum. His shoulders are massive, smooth curves, and Jensen doesn't think he's ever seen definition like that outside of a men's magazine.
"Damn, breathes Aldis. Jensen hears a strangled noise that he knows without looking is Chad. He can't fucking swallow, so he raises his own soda and gulps mechanically.
The gardener shakes his hair back again, droplets flying, and proceeds to squeeze the shirt out. Jensen gets ridiculously hard as he watches those magnificent pecs flex, the muscles shifting and twitching with his movements.
Jensen's dick is feeling pretty fucking twitchy itself right now. He shifts a little to try and give himself a little more room.
The gardener stuffs his shirt into a back pocket, like he's at some hot club. He looks up at Jensen again, that enigmatic half-smile on his face. Jensen shivers with lust from the dirty wink that's sent his way, and the other men hoot and rough-house around him.
"Assholes," Jensen mutters, his eyes still fixed on the tall, lean figure of the gardener, who now turns away and resumes his mowing. He leaves them with a farewell sight of his long back, as exquisitely chiseled as his front, and the now-visible, sexy swing of his hips. Faded blue jeans cling to an ass that can only be described as perfect and perky.
Jensen is completely hard now, and he doesn't dare stand up, he can't hide his arousal. Aldis, Chad, Steve, and Chris are all discussing the various attributes of the gardener and their prank, but Jensen...
Jensen's busy thinking about meeting that tall, cool drink of a man and how they'll heat things up.