SPN RPS Fic: The Other Side (J2, PG)
Title: The Other Side
Author: tigs
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Schmoop. Seriously.
Disclaimer: Don't know or own.
Summary: Jared wasn't really worried, the first time his dogs met Jensen, because, well. His dogs pretty much loved everyone. (~2,100 words.)
Author's Notes: One more time with the Jensen and Jared and the dogs. From Jared's POV this time. Previous stories can be found here.
i.
Jared wasn't really worried, the first time his dogs met Jensen, because, well. His dogs pretty much loved everyone. Male, female, kids, his elderly next door neighbor. Okay, not old Mrs. McNally's step-nephew, back in LA, but Jared just thought that reinforced his opinion that his dogs were good judges of character. Not that the kid had been in any serious trouble, as far as Jared knew, but he'd also seen him steal one of the orange-looking fruits off of their other neighbor's fruit tree when he thought no one was looking-his furtive glances around had given him away. Jared hadn't told anyone about it; he'd thought it punishment enough that when the kid'd bit into it-great big bite, juice squirting everywhere-he'd discovered it was actually a lemon.
But anyway, he wasn't really worried about his dogs liking Jensen. It was sort of a foregone conclusion that they would, as far as he was concerned. Still, though, he was relieved when he brought the dogs on set, when the first meeting happened: not only because Sadie and Harley greeted Jensen with tongues out and tails a-wag, but also because Jensen seemed happy to meet them, too. He got down on the floor and scratched their bellies, and he didn't wince when their tongues swiped over his skin.
He said things like, "Hey, girl. Hey, boy. Hey, yeah, yeah. It's good to meet you, too."
When the dogs finally let him up, he was wiping his hands on his jeans, grinning at Jared, wide and bright and happy. Which was good-better than good, actually, since Jared and the dogs were sort of a package deal here, and for the next nine months, at least, he and Jensen were pretty much going to be, too.
So, yeah.
Yeah.
ii.
The first time Jared realized he wanted to kiss Jensen:
It wasn't during a night out, sitting at a table in their usual bar, already three beers to the wind. It wasn't during one of their marathon video game sessions, where they were both lying on the floor, elbows occasionally bumping and jabbing as they worked the controllers. It wasn't on set, either, after hours stuck in the Impala doing take after take, when they'd already leaned across the gear shifts three times each to slap and tickle and punch at each other in an effort to stay sane.
No, it was an early morning back in LA, and yeah, Jensen had been over the night before for pizza and beer and a couple of shots. They'd watched movies and played video games and made fun of the infomercials that were on at two a.m. and Jensen had spent the night on the couch, too tired and liquored up to drive home.
Seven a.m. rolled around, though, and the dogs had been pawing around Jared's room for ten minutes-because if there was one thing they knew, it was the routine, and the sun was up which meant it was time for their walk now, thank you-so he got up, pulled on his shorts and a t-shirt, and headed downstairs.
He tried to be quiet, but the dogs were clicking around on the hardwood floors, and Harley woofed once after Jared got his leash on, and the next thing Jared knew, Jensen was sitting up on the couch, blinking tiredly at him.
Jared winced as he said, "Hey, sorry. We'll be gone in a minute, you can go back to sleep," but Jensen was shaking his head, rubbing a hand over his eyes, his chin, his hair. Saying, "No, hey. I should be getting-if you want to give me a minute, I'll come. I could use the exercise." At Jared's nod, he stood up then, pulling on his shirt. "I'll be right back."
Jared watched as he went into the bathroom, thinking, *huh*, and then Harley was pawing at the door, because the leashes were on, they were ready to go, why weren't they going? He barely had time to say, "Just a minute, boy," before Jensen was back in the hallway with them, hair damp with splashed water, grinning at Jared, and holding out his hand for one of the leashes.
And as Jared handed over Sadie's leash, that was the moment-both of them sleepy, unshowered, with pillow creases still pressed into their skin-that he first realized he wanted to kiss Jensen.
The second time he thought about it was just a few minutes later, watching Sadie pull Jensen down the front steps, then down the walkway, straining at her leash. Jensen was laughing when they reached the gate, saying, "Hey, girl, calm down," and when he looked back at Jared a moment later, grinning and happy, well.
Yeah. That was time number two.
iii.
The first time they kissed, it was in Jared's hotel room up in Vancouver.
It had been a long day, far too many hours filming in an abandoned mine, and makeup had spread soot artfully across Jensen's cheek, right down to the corner of his lips, and Jared had, well. Stared. A lot.
Enough to know that Jensen was staring back.
After they were done--*finally*--Jared said, "You want to come back to my place? Break out the Playstation for awhile? Grab some sandwiches on the way?"
He hadn't truly meant it as an invitation for anything more, he didn't think, but maybe he had, or maybe it was a case of mixed signals, but the moment the door to Jared's room was closed, Jensen was in his space, saying, "Tell me I'm wrong about this," and Jared just shook his head, backed Jensen up against the wall next to the bathroom door, and kissed him.
It took a moment: noses bending awkwardly together, lips not quite aligned, Jared's mouth too open, Jensen's not enough, but then Jensen's hand was on Jared's face, and Jared was dropping the bag of sandwiches to curve his own around Jensen's neck, and. Yeah.
It was Jensen who pulled back, breathing quickly, licking at his lips, then he glanced down and smiled. "I think, uh. Someone's trying to make off with our dinner."
When Jared looked down, he saw Harley nosing inside the plastic bag, Sadie sitting beside him, looking up at the two of them hopefully, an inquisitive look in her eyes, the tip of her tail twitching as if asking if the sandwiches were for them.
"Hey," Jared said sharply, picking the bag up again, which caused Harley to whimper, and that was when he realized that he was still in Jensen's space, that he still had one hand pressed to the wall beside Jensen's head. And maybe it should have been awkward-the newness of this, how unsure of what he was doing Jared actually was-but it wasn't. Or at least it stopped being awkward when Jensen reached up to slap him on the back of the head and say, "Hey, stop thinking. And give me my sandwich before someone else decides to claim it as their own."
iv.
The moment Jared realized he loved Jensen, it was because of Sadie. It happened like this:
It was morning, after breakfast but early enough, because Jensen had a meeting with his agent and he needed to go back to his apartment and put on something a little nicer than what he'd been hanging around at Jared's in for the last few days. Or so he said.
And when he left, both dogs followed him to the door. They all stood there in the hall for a moment, but then Jensen reached over and squeezed Jared's shoulder and said, "I'll see you tonight, all right," before he went outside. Harely padded his way back through the house to the kitchen, but Sadie stayed where she was, nose just an inch away from the door, watching Jensen as he made his way down the walkway. She watched as he got in his car, ears pricked forward as the door shut, as the engine started. Then she looked over her shoulder at Jared, a pleading look in her eyes, and after a moment Jared swallowed and said, "Yeah, me too."
v.
It was a long time coming, really.
First it was a sweatshirt that got left behind after a night of script reading-indy comedy for Jensen, some action movie for Jared. Jared found it the next morning and hung it up in the hall closet, but when he offered it back to Jensen a few nights later, Jensen just waved his hand. Said, "Or, uh, I could just leave it? In case I forget one some other time? As I do." It sounded pretty much like a throwaway comment to Jared, but there was an extra edge to Jensen's voice, a certain stillness about him as he said the words, and he grinned maybe a little too widely when Jared said, "Yeah, man. Sure. Sounds like a plan."
Then it was the pajama pants, the t-shirt with the bleach stain on the hem. That time it was Jared, actually. Sitting on the end of his bed, sliding a balled up sock over his toes, watching Jensen as he packed up the backpack Jared knew he'd started to keep in his car. The pants were hanging halfway out of the bag and the shirt was twisted in Jensen's hands and Jared said, "You could, you know, just leave them here. If you wanted."
Jensen did.
After that, it was slow: jeans, socks. A few T-shirts, then a few more. Enough so that if Jensen didn't want to go home for a few days, he didn't have to. And most times he didn't.
There was a difference between Jensen basically living in Jared's house, though, and his actually moving in, and in the end, Jared had to ask.
It happened out at the beach, actually, while they were tossing balls to the dogs, watching them splash around in the outgoing tide. Jared was telling Jensen about the new TV Chris had bought, a flat-screen plasma, and he said, "It's awesome, seriously." Then: "I was thinking that maybe, you know, we could get one."
Jensen arched an eyebrow and said, "We?"
Jared nodded, then swallowed, looking back out towards the ocean, the dogs. Harley was bowed down in the surf, looking ready to pounce at Sadie, who was quickly swimming away. "Yeah," he said a moment later. "I was thinking that you could, uh. Stay."
Jensen didn't immediately say anything, and it took Jared a moment to look over at him, unsure of what he'd see. But what he saw was this: Jensen smiling. "Yeah," Jensen said. "I could do that."
He might have said more, but the dogs chose that moment to come bounding back up the beach, to stop in front of the two of them and shake themselves drier, and whatever Jensen might have said was lost in a stream of, "Hey, guys, guys, that's enough," and, "You're lucky I love your dogs, man."
To which Jared didn't say: Yeah, yeah I am.
vi.
That wasn't the end, though. Or the beginning.
Jared sort of thought of that as happening a week later, after Jensen'd started calling Jared's bedroom theirs. After their trip to go buy their new TV. After Jensen's books were stacked alongside Jared's on the various bookcases in the house, and they'd gotten a second dresser to sit along side Jared's in the bedroom.
That morning, a week later, they were sitting in the kitchen, drinking their coffee, and Sadie came into the room with her leash in her mouth, but instead of taking it to Jared, as she usually did, she went to Jensen, laid her head on his knee and whimpered.
Jensen looked up at Jared then, his eyes wide, unsure-because, well. No matter that the dogs had woken him up before to take them outside, or that he'd picked them up at the kennel, that he'd given them baths, or that he gave them treats and food just as often as Jared did, they were still Jared's dogs. Or at least that was what Jared assumed Jensen was thinking. He was sure of it when Jensen scratched Sadie's ears and said, "Hey, go talk to Jared, girl." Which just made her press all the closer.
Jared just smiled, though. Said, "Hey, I wouldn't be so sure of that. She knows who her people are." He meant to sound nonchalant when he said it, light-hearted and teasing, but as the words came out, he could hear an extra edge there.
Jensen apparently picked up on it, because he was staring at Jared then, one eyebrow sort of arched, and then he said slowly, deliberately, "Yeah, I guess she does."
Jared didn't even realize he'd been holding his breath, not until he let it out, but then Jensen was bumping his foot under the table, and Jared was laughing, and. Yeah.
"Yeah," he said, "she does."
End.
Author: tigs
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Schmoop. Seriously.
Disclaimer: Don't know or own.
Summary: Jared wasn't really worried, the first time his dogs met Jensen, because, well. His dogs pretty much loved everyone. (~2,100 words.)
Author's Notes: One more time with the Jensen and Jared and the dogs. From Jared's POV this time. Previous stories can be found here.
i.
Jared wasn't really worried, the first time his dogs met Jensen, because, well. His dogs pretty much loved everyone. Male, female, kids, his elderly next door neighbor. Okay, not old Mrs. McNally's step-nephew, back in LA, but Jared just thought that reinforced his opinion that his dogs were good judges of character. Not that the kid had been in any serious trouble, as far as Jared knew, but he'd also seen him steal one of the orange-looking fruits off of their other neighbor's fruit tree when he thought no one was looking-his furtive glances around had given him away. Jared hadn't told anyone about it; he'd thought it punishment enough that when the kid'd bit into it-great big bite, juice squirting everywhere-he'd discovered it was actually a lemon.
But anyway, he wasn't really worried about his dogs liking Jensen. It was sort of a foregone conclusion that they would, as far as he was concerned. Still, though, he was relieved when he brought the dogs on set, when the first meeting happened: not only because Sadie and Harley greeted Jensen with tongues out and tails a-wag, but also because Jensen seemed happy to meet them, too. He got down on the floor and scratched their bellies, and he didn't wince when their tongues swiped over his skin.
He said things like, "Hey, girl. Hey, boy. Hey, yeah, yeah. It's good to meet you, too."
When the dogs finally let him up, he was wiping his hands on his jeans, grinning at Jared, wide and bright and happy. Which was good-better than good, actually, since Jared and the dogs were sort of a package deal here, and for the next nine months, at least, he and Jensen were pretty much going to be, too.
So, yeah.
Yeah.
ii.
The first time Jared realized he wanted to kiss Jensen:
It wasn't during a night out, sitting at a table in their usual bar, already three beers to the wind. It wasn't during one of their marathon video game sessions, where they were both lying on the floor, elbows occasionally bumping and jabbing as they worked the controllers. It wasn't on set, either, after hours stuck in the Impala doing take after take, when they'd already leaned across the gear shifts three times each to slap and tickle and punch at each other in an effort to stay sane.
No, it was an early morning back in LA, and yeah, Jensen had been over the night before for pizza and beer and a couple of shots. They'd watched movies and played video games and made fun of the infomercials that were on at two a.m. and Jensen had spent the night on the couch, too tired and liquored up to drive home.
Seven a.m. rolled around, though, and the dogs had been pawing around Jared's room for ten minutes-because if there was one thing they knew, it was the routine, and the sun was up which meant it was time for their walk now, thank you-so he got up, pulled on his shorts and a t-shirt, and headed downstairs.
He tried to be quiet, but the dogs were clicking around on the hardwood floors, and Harley woofed once after Jared got his leash on, and the next thing Jared knew, Jensen was sitting up on the couch, blinking tiredly at him.
Jared winced as he said, "Hey, sorry. We'll be gone in a minute, you can go back to sleep," but Jensen was shaking his head, rubbing a hand over his eyes, his chin, his hair. Saying, "No, hey. I should be getting-if you want to give me a minute, I'll come. I could use the exercise." At Jared's nod, he stood up then, pulling on his shirt. "I'll be right back."
Jared watched as he went into the bathroom, thinking, *huh*, and then Harley was pawing at the door, because the leashes were on, they were ready to go, why weren't they going? He barely had time to say, "Just a minute, boy," before Jensen was back in the hallway with them, hair damp with splashed water, grinning at Jared, and holding out his hand for one of the leashes.
And as Jared handed over Sadie's leash, that was the moment-both of them sleepy, unshowered, with pillow creases still pressed into their skin-that he first realized he wanted to kiss Jensen.
The second time he thought about it was just a few minutes later, watching Sadie pull Jensen down the front steps, then down the walkway, straining at her leash. Jensen was laughing when they reached the gate, saying, "Hey, girl, calm down," and when he looked back at Jared a moment later, grinning and happy, well.
Yeah. That was time number two.
iii.
The first time they kissed, it was in Jared's hotel room up in Vancouver.
It had been a long day, far too many hours filming in an abandoned mine, and makeup had spread soot artfully across Jensen's cheek, right down to the corner of his lips, and Jared had, well. Stared. A lot.
Enough to know that Jensen was staring back.
After they were done--*finally*--Jared said, "You want to come back to my place? Break out the Playstation for awhile? Grab some sandwiches on the way?"
He hadn't truly meant it as an invitation for anything more, he didn't think, but maybe he had, or maybe it was a case of mixed signals, but the moment the door to Jared's room was closed, Jensen was in his space, saying, "Tell me I'm wrong about this," and Jared just shook his head, backed Jensen up against the wall next to the bathroom door, and kissed him.
It took a moment: noses bending awkwardly together, lips not quite aligned, Jared's mouth too open, Jensen's not enough, but then Jensen's hand was on Jared's face, and Jared was dropping the bag of sandwiches to curve his own around Jensen's neck, and. Yeah.
It was Jensen who pulled back, breathing quickly, licking at his lips, then he glanced down and smiled. "I think, uh. Someone's trying to make off with our dinner."
When Jared looked down, he saw Harley nosing inside the plastic bag, Sadie sitting beside him, looking up at the two of them hopefully, an inquisitive look in her eyes, the tip of her tail twitching as if asking if the sandwiches were for them.
"Hey," Jared said sharply, picking the bag up again, which caused Harley to whimper, and that was when he realized that he was still in Jensen's space, that he still had one hand pressed to the wall beside Jensen's head. And maybe it should have been awkward-the newness of this, how unsure of what he was doing Jared actually was-but it wasn't. Or at least it stopped being awkward when Jensen reached up to slap him on the back of the head and say, "Hey, stop thinking. And give me my sandwich before someone else decides to claim it as their own."
iv.
The moment Jared realized he loved Jensen, it was because of Sadie. It happened like this:
It was morning, after breakfast but early enough, because Jensen had a meeting with his agent and he needed to go back to his apartment and put on something a little nicer than what he'd been hanging around at Jared's in for the last few days. Or so he said.
And when he left, both dogs followed him to the door. They all stood there in the hall for a moment, but then Jensen reached over and squeezed Jared's shoulder and said, "I'll see you tonight, all right," before he went outside. Harely padded his way back through the house to the kitchen, but Sadie stayed where she was, nose just an inch away from the door, watching Jensen as he made his way down the walkway. She watched as he got in his car, ears pricked forward as the door shut, as the engine started. Then she looked over her shoulder at Jared, a pleading look in her eyes, and after a moment Jared swallowed and said, "Yeah, me too."
v.
It was a long time coming, really.
First it was a sweatshirt that got left behind after a night of script reading-indy comedy for Jensen, some action movie for Jared. Jared found it the next morning and hung it up in the hall closet, but when he offered it back to Jensen a few nights later, Jensen just waved his hand. Said, "Or, uh, I could just leave it? In case I forget one some other time? As I do." It sounded pretty much like a throwaway comment to Jared, but there was an extra edge to Jensen's voice, a certain stillness about him as he said the words, and he grinned maybe a little too widely when Jared said, "Yeah, man. Sure. Sounds like a plan."
Then it was the pajama pants, the t-shirt with the bleach stain on the hem. That time it was Jared, actually. Sitting on the end of his bed, sliding a balled up sock over his toes, watching Jensen as he packed up the backpack Jared knew he'd started to keep in his car. The pants were hanging halfway out of the bag and the shirt was twisted in Jensen's hands and Jared said, "You could, you know, just leave them here. If you wanted."
Jensen did.
After that, it was slow: jeans, socks. A few T-shirts, then a few more. Enough so that if Jensen didn't want to go home for a few days, he didn't have to. And most times he didn't.
There was a difference between Jensen basically living in Jared's house, though, and his actually moving in, and in the end, Jared had to ask.
It happened out at the beach, actually, while they were tossing balls to the dogs, watching them splash around in the outgoing tide. Jared was telling Jensen about the new TV Chris had bought, a flat-screen plasma, and he said, "It's awesome, seriously." Then: "I was thinking that maybe, you know, we could get one."
Jensen arched an eyebrow and said, "We?"
Jared nodded, then swallowed, looking back out towards the ocean, the dogs. Harley was bowed down in the surf, looking ready to pounce at Sadie, who was quickly swimming away. "Yeah," he said a moment later. "I was thinking that you could, uh. Stay."
Jensen didn't immediately say anything, and it took Jared a moment to look over at him, unsure of what he'd see. But what he saw was this: Jensen smiling. "Yeah," Jensen said. "I could do that."
He might have said more, but the dogs chose that moment to come bounding back up the beach, to stop in front of the two of them and shake themselves drier, and whatever Jensen might have said was lost in a stream of, "Hey, guys, guys, that's enough," and, "You're lucky I love your dogs, man."
To which Jared didn't say: Yeah, yeah I am.
vi.
That wasn't the end, though. Or the beginning.
Jared sort of thought of that as happening a week later, after Jensen'd started calling Jared's bedroom theirs. After their trip to go buy their new TV. After Jensen's books were stacked alongside Jared's on the various bookcases in the house, and they'd gotten a second dresser to sit along side Jared's in the bedroom.
That morning, a week later, they were sitting in the kitchen, drinking their coffee, and Sadie came into the room with her leash in her mouth, but instead of taking it to Jared, as she usually did, she went to Jensen, laid her head on his knee and whimpered.
Jensen looked up at Jared then, his eyes wide, unsure-because, well. No matter that the dogs had woken him up before to take them outside, or that he'd picked them up at the kennel, that he'd given them baths, or that he gave them treats and food just as often as Jared did, they were still Jared's dogs. Or at least that was what Jared assumed Jensen was thinking. He was sure of it when Jensen scratched Sadie's ears and said, "Hey, go talk to Jared, girl." Which just made her press all the closer.
Jared just smiled, though. Said, "Hey, I wouldn't be so sure of that. She knows who her people are." He meant to sound nonchalant when he said it, light-hearted and teasing, but as the words came out, he could hear an extra edge there.
Jensen apparently picked up on it, because he was staring at Jared then, one eyebrow sort of arched, and then he said slowly, deliberately, "Yeah, I guess she does."
Jared didn't even realize he'd been holding his breath, not until he let it out, but then Jensen was bumping his foot under the table, and Jared was laughing, and. Yeah.
"Yeah," he said, "she does."
End.