Real Person Fic - CW: We're Back!: A Dinosaur Story [Ginger!Verse Timestamp]
Title: We're Back!: A Dinosaur Story
Fandom: Real Person Fic - CW
Characters/Pairings: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG for some language
Word Count: 1,555
Author’s Note: This is a timestamp to my gingerbread man!Jared fic, Not the Gumdrop Buttons, which I wrote a million years ago, and probably no one remembers. Still, I've been meaning to write this timestamp ever since ordinaryink brought up how Jared would so trick Jensen into making him a dinosaur for the holidays, and I was like, "Fuck, he so would." And then she drew me the adorable Christmas card a few years back which you can find at the bottom of this post. So here it finally is, a little New Year's schmoop to anyone who still enjoys that verse. Apologies in advance-it will probably not make a whole lot of sense if you have not read the original story before.
Summary: There's a dinosaur sitting on his couch, and Jensen decides right then and there that his New Year's resolution is to stop making things out of gingerbread, no matter how cute Jared is when he asks.
"Babe, do you know where we put the cookie I made you for-?" Jensen steps out into the living room and nearly drops the cheese platter he'd just spent twenty minutes lovingly curating into the open mouth of whichever dog is nudging at his thigh right now, begging for attention and, more importantly, food.
There's a dinosaur sitting on his couch. There's a dinosaur sitting on his couch, and Jensen decides right then and there that his New Year's resolution is to stop making things out of gingerbread, no matter how cute Jared is when he asks.
He sighs and says the most futile words known to man: "But Jared, you promised."
"And you believed him." Chad snorts. "Sucker."
Jensen points to the cookie. "You stay out of this."
If Chad had eyes instead of bleary little blue dots of icing, Jensen is pretty sure he would be rolling them. He gives thanks every day for the fact that Chad never made the jump from cookie to human.
Unlike certain former gingerbread men Jensen knows, who are currently sitting on his couch, feeding brownie bits to a once-extinct lizard. Well, this one is still only a cookie, even if a sentient cookie, so maybe they are still technically extinct.
Whatever, Jensen is so not about to spend his New Year's debating the finer existential points of whether his cookie creations count as members of their respective species when they come to life or not.
"You promised," Jensen repeats, setting the tray of snacks down on the coffee table and turning toward the sofa.
"I know! And I had really good intentions, too." Jared pauses, taking the dinosaur's tiny dough hands between his giant fingers and making them dance. "But then his little claws were so cute I couldn't help it."
The dinosaur turns its face toward Jared, long neck stretching up until it bites his nose. Jensen's heart seizes in his chest, even if a few seconds later he feels pretty stupid about it. Gingerbread teeth are not exactly going to do a lot of damage, but there's something unsettling about letting a dinosaur chew on your boyfriend nonetheless.
Not that Jared wouldn't deserve it if the stupid thing did eat him, of course. Because he totally would.
"Don't pout, grumpy," Jared says, scooching to make room for Jensen on the couch. "Rex wouldn't even exist if it wasn't for you."
Jensen takes the space Jared made for him wearily. The dinosaur-Rex, apparently-doesn't try to eat him, probably because Jared is snuggling it so hard it wouldn't be able to breathe if it needed to, let alone launch itself across the couch. Poor little guy, Jensen can sympathize.
"When you asked for a dinosaur for Christmas," Jensen begins, knowing that he's wasting his breath, "and I agreed to make you one, we had a strict agreement that you would not bring it to life."
Jared grins at his dinosaur, picking it up and holding it above his face like a proud parent. Entirely oblivious to the fact that the thing is trying to bite him again. "Oh, come on. You must have known this was going to happen."
Maybe, probably, deep down Jensen did. Okay, but Jared had used those puppy eyes when he asked. "We cannot keep a baby raptor in this house," Jensen tells him. "I've seen Jurassic Park. It's a no."
"He's not a raptor. You didn't do enough research to make him a real raptor. He's more like a generic dinosaur conglomerate," says Jared.
Because that's the really important thing to focus on here. Not the fact that he brought a dinosaur to life with his love, but what kind of dinosaur in particular. "And anyway, his being carnivorous isn't a problem since he's made out of dough. For him, meat is just baked goods!"
As if to demonstrate, Jared dangles another piece of brownie over the cookie monster's open jaw, and it snaps at the treat, cooing gently. As soon as it swallows that, though, it's back to climbing on Jared, chewing on his ear.
For his part, Jared just laughs, a bright, booming sound filling up the room and fuck, fuck, fuck. Jensen is going to let him get his way on this, isn't he?
He can't help huffing a laugh of his own. "Then why does he keep biting you, genius?"
"These are love bites," Jared replies, his face glazing over with fondness. "I was the first thing he saw, so now he thinks I'm his mommy. Just like the babies."
"Fuck, the babies!" Jensen says, looking around the room hysterically. "If he eats other things made of dough, he's going to eat the babies!"
"Relax!" Jared says. "He won't eat the babies. They're in their house and he could never climb that high with his dopey little arms. Besides, I've already introduced him to Chad and explained that people-shaped cookies are friends, not food. He seems to understand."
"Oh, no." Jensen looks back to the floor, where Chad is now sitting next to Sophia with one stubby little gingerbread arm perched on her shoulder in an imitation of a cuddle. "He can eat Chad. Just not Crumbs."
"Fuckin' hate that guy," he hears Chad mutter, followed by a "be respectful, he's our maker," from Sophia.
"That's not a thing with gingerbread creatures in general, is it?" Jensen asks, his eyebrows drawing together. "You don't only love me because I was the first thing you saw, right?"
"Well, you are awfully easy on the eyes." Jared pulls Rex in closer to his chest and curls up to Jensen. The dinosaur pokes its head out between their chests and sniffs Jensen for a few seconds before nibbling on his shirt. Goddamn it, it is kind of adorable.
"You're sure he won't eat Crumbs?" Jensen says, giving Rex a reluctant pat on the head. Rex butts his face into the touch, kind of like a cat. Jensen always wanted a cat. "And that the dogs won't eat him?"
Harley perks his head up from the end of the couch and gives Jensen a look like he feels betrayed Jensen would even suggest it. Sadie, on the other hand, is somewhere in the mess of open boxes under the Christmas tree, chewing on the bone they got her (just like she has been for the last week) and is blissfully unaware that her pride has just apparently been insulted.
"I promise, I promise," Jared says. "Please can we keep him? This is the last time. New Year's resolution! No more bringing gingerbread to life. I'm swearing it off for good."
Jensen rolls his eyes. "I'm throwing out all the ingredients we have and never buying more again, and that's the only way you're gonna keep to that resolution."
Jared smiles and doesn't argue, because they both know it's true.
"As for me," Jensen says, "I'm going to learn how to say no to you." He pulls back enough to tickle Rex's dinosaur potbelly and can't help smiling at the little beast when it coos at him. "I'm going to start next year. And I'm gonna get really good at it."
"Next Year is so far away. I have plenty of time to swindle you yet." Jared cups a hand around the dinosaur's head to protect him from getting crushed as he leans into Jensen's space. "So I can keep him?"
Jensen doesn't bother answering. The TV, which has been background noise, is now counting down from ten, and Jensen has more important things to do. This is his and Jared's first New Year together. Jared's first New Year at all.
It's only been seven months since Jensen baked him, loved him, made him real. And even with all the surprises that have popped up since then, cookie cutter shaped pets and family and friends, Jensen's only reservation is that he probably won't have another year this good again. How lucky can one guy get in a lifetime?
He puts and arm on Jared's neck and closes his eyes. "You know, there's a rule about New Year's. If you kiss someone at midnight, your year will be full of their love."
"Oh, yeah?" Jared asks.
Jensen nods, angling in closer, and he's expecting Jared to make the effort to close the gap between them, but his eyes are still closed. So he doesn't see Jared moving until it's too late. As the crowd on the TV yells out, "Happy New Year!" Jared holds Rex out, and instead of a kiss, Jensen gets a bite on the nose at the stroke of midnight.
He opens his eyes and sees Jared laughing hysterically, clearly extremely proud of himself. All dimples and big teeth and Jensen wants to be annoyed, he really does, but instead he's just struck that he ever made anything as beautiful as Jared.
Jared sobers, setting Rex on the floor and grabbing Jensen's face between two big hands. He pulls Jensen in and lays a big one on him, and it’s still Midnight, so Jensen figures it counts.
When he pulls away, Jared presses his forehead to Jensen's and gives him yet another wide grin. "Happy New Year, Jen."
And, yeah, Jensen can't really imagine how it could be anything else as long as Jared is in it.
Fandom: Real Person Fic - CW
Characters/Pairings: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG for some language
Word Count: 1,555
Author’s Note: This is a timestamp to my gingerbread man!Jared fic, Not the Gumdrop Buttons, which I wrote a million years ago, and probably no one remembers. Still, I've been meaning to write this timestamp ever since ordinaryink brought up how Jared would so trick Jensen into making him a dinosaur for the holidays, and I was like, "Fuck, he so would." And then she drew me the adorable Christmas card a few years back which you can find at the bottom of this post. So here it finally is, a little New Year's schmoop to anyone who still enjoys that verse. Apologies in advance-it will probably not make a whole lot of sense if you have not read the original story before.
Summary: There's a dinosaur sitting on his couch, and Jensen decides right then and there that his New Year's resolution is to stop making things out of gingerbread, no matter how cute Jared is when he asks.
"Babe, do you know where we put the cookie I made you for-?" Jensen steps out into the living room and nearly drops the cheese platter he'd just spent twenty minutes lovingly curating into the open mouth of whichever dog is nudging at his thigh right now, begging for attention and, more importantly, food.
There's a dinosaur sitting on his couch. There's a dinosaur sitting on his couch, and Jensen decides right then and there that his New Year's resolution is to stop making things out of gingerbread, no matter how cute Jared is when he asks.
He sighs and says the most futile words known to man: "But Jared, you promised."
"And you believed him." Chad snorts. "Sucker."
Jensen points to the cookie. "You stay out of this."
If Chad had eyes instead of bleary little blue dots of icing, Jensen is pretty sure he would be rolling them. He gives thanks every day for the fact that Chad never made the jump from cookie to human.
Unlike certain former gingerbread men Jensen knows, who are currently sitting on his couch, feeding brownie bits to a once-extinct lizard. Well, this one is still only a cookie, even if a sentient cookie, so maybe they are still technically extinct.
Whatever, Jensen is so not about to spend his New Year's debating the finer existential points of whether his cookie creations count as members of their respective species when they come to life or not.
"You promised," Jensen repeats, setting the tray of snacks down on the coffee table and turning toward the sofa.
"I know! And I had really good intentions, too." Jared pauses, taking the dinosaur's tiny dough hands between his giant fingers and making them dance. "But then his little claws were so cute I couldn't help it."
The dinosaur turns its face toward Jared, long neck stretching up until it bites his nose. Jensen's heart seizes in his chest, even if a few seconds later he feels pretty stupid about it. Gingerbread teeth are not exactly going to do a lot of damage, but there's something unsettling about letting a dinosaur chew on your boyfriend nonetheless.
Not that Jared wouldn't deserve it if the stupid thing did eat him, of course. Because he totally would.
"Don't pout, grumpy," Jared says, scooching to make room for Jensen on the couch. "Rex wouldn't even exist if it wasn't for you."
Jensen takes the space Jared made for him wearily. The dinosaur-Rex, apparently-doesn't try to eat him, probably because Jared is snuggling it so hard it wouldn't be able to breathe if it needed to, let alone launch itself across the couch. Poor little guy, Jensen can sympathize.
"When you asked for a dinosaur for Christmas," Jensen begins, knowing that he's wasting his breath, "and I agreed to make you one, we had a strict agreement that you would not bring it to life."
Jared grins at his dinosaur, picking it up and holding it above his face like a proud parent. Entirely oblivious to the fact that the thing is trying to bite him again. "Oh, come on. You must have known this was going to happen."
Maybe, probably, deep down Jensen did. Okay, but Jared had used those puppy eyes when he asked. "We cannot keep a baby raptor in this house," Jensen tells him. "I've seen Jurassic Park. It's a no."
"He's not a raptor. You didn't do enough research to make him a real raptor. He's more like a generic dinosaur conglomerate," says Jared.
Because that's the really important thing to focus on here. Not the fact that he brought a dinosaur to life with his love, but what kind of dinosaur in particular. "And anyway, his being carnivorous isn't a problem since he's made out of dough. For him, meat is just baked goods!"
As if to demonstrate, Jared dangles another piece of brownie over the cookie monster's open jaw, and it snaps at the treat, cooing gently. As soon as it swallows that, though, it's back to climbing on Jared, chewing on his ear.
For his part, Jared just laughs, a bright, booming sound filling up the room and fuck, fuck, fuck. Jensen is going to let him get his way on this, isn't he?
He can't help huffing a laugh of his own. "Then why does he keep biting you, genius?"
"These are love bites," Jared replies, his face glazing over with fondness. "I was the first thing he saw, so now he thinks I'm his mommy. Just like the babies."
"Fuck, the babies!" Jensen says, looking around the room hysterically. "If he eats other things made of dough, he's going to eat the babies!"
"Relax!" Jared says. "He won't eat the babies. They're in their house and he could never climb that high with his dopey little arms. Besides, I've already introduced him to Chad and explained that people-shaped cookies are friends, not food. He seems to understand."
"Oh, no." Jensen looks back to the floor, where Chad is now sitting next to Sophia with one stubby little gingerbread arm perched on her shoulder in an imitation of a cuddle. "He can eat Chad. Just not Crumbs."
"Fuckin' hate that guy," he hears Chad mutter, followed by a "be respectful, he's our maker," from Sophia.
"That's not a thing with gingerbread creatures in general, is it?" Jensen asks, his eyebrows drawing together. "You don't only love me because I was the first thing you saw, right?"
"Well, you are awfully easy on the eyes." Jared pulls Rex in closer to his chest and curls up to Jensen. The dinosaur pokes its head out between their chests and sniffs Jensen for a few seconds before nibbling on his shirt. Goddamn it, it is kind of adorable.
"You're sure he won't eat Crumbs?" Jensen says, giving Rex a reluctant pat on the head. Rex butts his face into the touch, kind of like a cat. Jensen always wanted a cat. "And that the dogs won't eat him?"
Harley perks his head up from the end of the couch and gives Jensen a look like he feels betrayed Jensen would even suggest it. Sadie, on the other hand, is somewhere in the mess of open boxes under the Christmas tree, chewing on the bone they got her (just like she has been for the last week) and is blissfully unaware that her pride has just apparently been insulted.
"I promise, I promise," Jared says. "Please can we keep him? This is the last time. New Year's resolution! No more bringing gingerbread to life. I'm swearing it off for good."
Jensen rolls his eyes. "I'm throwing out all the ingredients we have and never buying more again, and that's the only way you're gonna keep to that resolution."
Jared smiles and doesn't argue, because they both know it's true.
"As for me," Jensen says, "I'm going to learn how to say no to you." He pulls back enough to tickle Rex's dinosaur potbelly and can't help smiling at the little beast when it coos at him. "I'm going to start next year. And I'm gonna get really good at it."
"Next Year is so far away. I have plenty of time to swindle you yet." Jared cups a hand around the dinosaur's head to protect him from getting crushed as he leans into Jensen's space. "So I can keep him?"
Jensen doesn't bother answering. The TV, which has been background noise, is now counting down from ten, and Jensen has more important things to do. This is his and Jared's first New Year together. Jared's first New Year at all.
It's only been seven months since Jensen baked him, loved him, made him real. And even with all the surprises that have popped up since then, cookie cutter shaped pets and family and friends, Jensen's only reservation is that he probably won't have another year this good again. How lucky can one guy get in a lifetime?
He puts and arm on Jared's neck and closes his eyes. "You know, there's a rule about New Year's. If you kiss someone at midnight, your year will be full of their love."
"Oh, yeah?" Jared asks.
Jensen nods, angling in closer, and he's expecting Jared to make the effort to close the gap between them, but his eyes are still closed. So he doesn't see Jared moving until it's too late. As the crowd on the TV yells out, "Happy New Year!" Jared holds Rex out, and instead of a kiss, Jensen gets a bite on the nose at the stroke of midnight.
He opens his eyes and sees Jared laughing hysterically, clearly extremely proud of himself. All dimples and big teeth and Jensen wants to be annoyed, he really does, but instead he's just struck that he ever made anything as beautiful as Jared.
Jared sobers, setting Rex on the floor and grabbing Jensen's face between two big hands. He pulls Jensen in and lays a big one on him, and it’s still Midnight, so Jensen figures it counts.
When he pulls away, Jared presses his forehead to Jensen's and gives him yet another wide grin. "Happy New Year, Jen."
And, yeah, Jensen can't really imagine how it could be anything else as long as Jared is in it.