The First Annual Padalecki-Ackles Christmastime Extravaganza - Part Two
Title: The First Annual Padalecki-Ackles Christmastime Extravaganza 2/13
Author: Merrin/walkawayslowly
Rating: R for language
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Notes: See part one.
Continued from Part 1
Jensen's eating cereal out of one of the big mixing bowls when Jared comes into the kitchen the next morning. It’s time to do dishes again, but both of them hate it and it always comes down to them fighting over the last spoon before one of them will actually step up and wash them. He stops just inside the doorway, looking over his shoulder. Jensen tries not to appreciate the line of Jared’s neck as he cranes his head around.
"Merry after Christmas," Jensen mumbles around a mouthful of cornflakes.
"Dude," Jared says, after a quick glance. "There's a tree in our living room. I mean other than the Christmas tree. There are two trees in our living room."
"Yeah?" Jensen keeps eating.
Jared just looks at him. "It’s the room between the kitchen and your room. You had to see it."
Jensen swallows down his bite. "I saw it. I meant 'yeah... and?'"
"And!" Jared flings his hands up. "Where did it come from?"
"I don't know, man."
Jared looks back toward the living room, like the tree will suddenly have a giant "from your friend ..." card on it. "Rosenbaum," he finally says, generally their answer to any question starting with the words "who could have done."
Jensen shakes his head, spooning more cornflakes in his mouth. "Can't be," he says. "He's in New York for Hanukkah."
"You can't tell me he couldn't pull this off from another country. Dude’s like Bond."
Jensen thinks about that a moment, chewing thoughtfully. "Granted."
Jared steps back into the living room and Jensen picks up the bowl to follow him. The tree is easily as tall as Jared is, though it’s slightly off-kilter, something Jared only is when drunk. There are ridiculously sparkled fruits hanging from almost every branch and a stuffed bird is tied to the trunk.
"Is there a card?" Jared asks him.
Jensen chews another bite of cereal while he peruses the tree. "Don’t see one," he says around his cereal.
Jared circles the tree, tripping over Sadie where’s she sniffing the trunk. "What is it?" he finally asks.
Jensen shrugs. "Don’t know, dude."
Jensen plops down on the couch. He picks up the remote, but the tree obscures his view of the TV. He scrolls through the channels until he hears Mythbusters.
"How are you so unconcerned?"
"I figure it’s for you."
Jared had been poking at the fruits hanging on the branches, but now he throws his palms up, like the tree scalded him or something. "What? No! Maybe it’s for you!"
"It’s your living room."
"Uh uh." Jared shakes his head. "It's 'our' living room!"
Jensen chokes down an awful giddy, hysterical laugh. He doesn’t know where these things come from, or how to make them stop. "Well," he says when he’s recovered, "let’s move 'our' tree to the corner, I want to play Wii."
Jared’s got his hands at his waist, hips cocked in a way that never fails to outline his dick perfectly against his sweatpants, but Jensen is totally not staring at that. Jared narrows his eyes at Jensen, like he suspects something, but he doesn’t know what he suspects. Jensen just hopes it has nothing to do with wondering how often Jensen thinks about Jared’s cock. "I don’t know why you’re so unconcerned about this," Jared says.
Jensen shrugs, flips through a few more channels on the TV with one hand while he scoops more cornflakes into his mouth with the other. "Because," he says around the mouthful, "we have a lot of asshole friends with keys to the house."
"Maybe I have a stalker."
"Oh, fuck off. No one cares enough to stalk you."
Jared looks a little wounded. "You think no one cares?" Jensen flips him off. Jared laughs and says, "Maybe you have a stalker."
"A stalker who leaves trees in the living room? What kind of stalking is that?"
"Bad stalking?"
"Dude, shut up and move the tree."
Jared leans over and starts tugging at the trunk of the tree, scraping the pot across the wood floor. Jensen absolutely does not look at the line of tanned skin where Jared’s shirt rides up in the back. "Fine," Jared says from somewhere in the branches, a little breathless with the effort of lugging the tree. "But you have to be Sharpay this time."
Part 3
Author: Merrin/walkawayslowly
Rating: R for language
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Notes: See part one.
Continued from Part 1
Jensen's eating cereal out of one of the big mixing bowls when Jared comes into the kitchen the next morning. It’s time to do dishes again, but both of them hate it and it always comes down to them fighting over the last spoon before one of them will actually step up and wash them. He stops just inside the doorway, looking over his shoulder. Jensen tries not to appreciate the line of Jared’s neck as he cranes his head around.
"Merry after Christmas," Jensen mumbles around a mouthful of cornflakes.
"Dude," Jared says, after a quick glance. "There's a tree in our living room. I mean other than the Christmas tree. There are two trees in our living room."
"Yeah?" Jensen keeps eating.
Jared just looks at him. "It’s the room between the kitchen and your room. You had to see it."
Jensen swallows down his bite. "I saw it. I meant 'yeah... and?'"
"And!" Jared flings his hands up. "Where did it come from?"
"I don't know, man."
Jared looks back toward the living room, like the tree will suddenly have a giant "from your friend ..." card on it. "Rosenbaum," he finally says, generally their answer to any question starting with the words "who could have done."
Jensen shakes his head, spooning more cornflakes in his mouth. "Can't be," he says. "He's in New York for Hanukkah."
"You can't tell me he couldn't pull this off from another country. Dude’s like Bond."
Jensen thinks about that a moment, chewing thoughtfully. "Granted."
Jared steps back into the living room and Jensen picks up the bowl to follow him. The tree is easily as tall as Jared is, though it’s slightly off-kilter, something Jared only is when drunk. There are ridiculously sparkled fruits hanging from almost every branch and a stuffed bird is tied to the trunk.
"Is there a card?" Jared asks him.
Jensen chews another bite of cereal while he peruses the tree. "Don’t see one," he says around his cereal.
Jared circles the tree, tripping over Sadie where’s she sniffing the trunk. "What is it?" he finally asks.
Jensen shrugs. "Don’t know, dude."
Jensen plops down on the couch. He picks up the remote, but the tree obscures his view of the TV. He scrolls through the channels until he hears Mythbusters.
"How are you so unconcerned?"
"I figure it’s for you."
Jared had been poking at the fruits hanging on the branches, but now he throws his palms up, like the tree scalded him or something. "What? No! Maybe it’s for you!"
"It’s your living room."
"Uh uh." Jared shakes his head. "It's 'our' living room!"
Jensen chokes down an awful giddy, hysterical laugh. He doesn’t know where these things come from, or how to make them stop. "Well," he says when he’s recovered, "let’s move 'our' tree to the corner, I want to play Wii."
Jared’s got his hands at his waist, hips cocked in a way that never fails to outline his dick perfectly against his sweatpants, but Jensen is totally not staring at that. Jared narrows his eyes at Jensen, like he suspects something, but he doesn’t know what he suspects. Jensen just hopes it has nothing to do with wondering how often Jensen thinks about Jared’s cock. "I don’t know why you’re so unconcerned about this," Jared says.
Jensen shrugs, flips through a few more channels on the TV with one hand while he scoops more cornflakes into his mouth with the other. "Because," he says around the mouthful, "we have a lot of asshole friends with keys to the house."
"Maybe I have a stalker."
"Oh, fuck off. No one cares enough to stalk you."
Jared looks a little wounded. "You think no one cares?" Jensen flips him off. Jared laughs and says, "Maybe you have a stalker."
"A stalker who leaves trees in the living room? What kind of stalking is that?"
"Bad stalking?"
"Dude, shut up and move the tree."
Jared leans over and starts tugging at the trunk of the tree, scraping the pot across the wood floor. Jensen absolutely does not look at the line of tanned skin where Jared’s shirt rides up in the back. "Fine," Jared says from somewhere in the branches, a little breathless with the effort of lugging the tree. "But you have to be Sharpay this time."
Part 3