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Fic: Cricket Song (PG)
Title: Cricket Song
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 755 words
Notes: A sort of companion piece to I Am Trying to Make You Sing, which was written a while back for the lyric ficathon. Not entirely necessary to have read that, but it gives this a little more meaning. Lickity split quick beta by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
immoralilly, who is so awesome she battles gargoyles, stained glass, and the color purple with me.
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 755 words
Notes: A sort of companion piece to I Am Trying to Make You Sing, which was written a while back for the lyric ficathon. Not entirely necessary to have read that, but it gives this a little more meaning. Lickity split quick beta by
immoralilly, who is so awesome she battles gargoyles, stained glass, and the color purple with me.“You dragged me all the way out here for this?” Jensen asks.
Looking around, there’s not really much to even call ‘this’. There’s an open soccer field in front of them that goes on until the tree line, the big parking lot behind them with only Jared’s weather-beaten Chevy parked in it, a tiny gazebo on the edge of the grass, and nothing else for miles. If Jensen squints, he can almost see a house off in the far distance, but he’s can’t be entirely sure he’s not imagining it.
When Jensen looks back at Jared, he’s got on the kind of little hurt puppy pout that gets him candy and swooning girls all over the country. Jensen doesn’t feel this is fair. “Come on, Jay, why are we even here?” he tries, kicking at the loose gravel. “It’s almost midnight and I’m tired.”
“Follow me,” Jared says. Without waiting for Jensen, he jogs off in the direction of the gazebo light, long legs eating up the ground in loping strides.
And that’s the thing about Jared, isn’t it? No matter how much Jensen wants to say no and hotwire the damn car so he can go home to his cat who will probably scratch him and get some sleep before the alarm goes off at six, he can’t, because Jared’s earnest and sweet and waving at him like a lunatic from under the gazebo’s lighted roof, arms and legs flailing around.
The gravel crunches satisfyingly underfoot as Jensen jogs over. As soon as he’s within reach, Jared’s got him around the shoulders, pulling him over to the far wall, where the open lattice overlooks the whole field.
“Look, Jen,” he mumbles, resting his chin companionably on Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen does, scanning the low, trampled-down grass with his eyes until the lids feel heavy and his vision swims.
“Jared, what am I looking for?” he asks finally, when he can’t figure it out. “All I see is grass. And a beat up old cleat over there by the goal post.”
“Good eye,” Jared says, impressed. He shakes himself. “I mean, look. You don’t notice anything? At all?”
Jensen sighs, giving the field another sweeping glance without much expectation. There’s a sudden glimmer of light – Jensen barely catches it out of the corner of his eye, but there’s another almost right away. It takes him a minute to figure out what’s going on, but then a huge laugh is bubbling up in his chest.
“Lightning bugs?” he asks, turning his head. His nose bumps Jared’s cheek awkwardly, but he doesn’t mind and Jared doesn’t seem to either. He’s too busy pulling a glass mason jar out of his jacket pocket.
He grins impishly and holds it out to Jensen, an offering, like giving away the first apple of autumn when they were younger, but more significant. “How about it? For old time’s sake?” he asks.
Jensen grabs the jar with one hand and the back of Jared’s neck with the other, pulling him in for a quick, playful kiss. Jared’s smile is wide and uncomplicated when they pull apart, curving his lips up and putting dimples in his cheeks.
They catch the first lightning bug together, cupping both their hands around it like a little trap. It tickles, feelers and tiny legs all along the sensitive lines of Jensen’s palm, and he has to let go before Jared can get the mason jar uncapped with his other hand and his elbow – it’s actually pretty comical to watch, seeing as Jared is the most uncoordinated beast in the world. He manages to get the cap of the jar caught between his button-up and undershirt, somehow. Jensen kindly fishes it out for him.
After five more minutes of trying to get some bugs into the jar, they give up, flopping down in the high grass by the side of the gazebo. Jensen guesses the mowers never come over this way, too worried about maintaining the popular areas over by the soccer goals. He doesn’t care. The cattails remind him of when Jared and he were younger, how they’d sneak out of their houses at night to lay down in the fields together and count the stars.
Jensen laughs, telling Jared so, and they do that for a while in mostly companionable silence, pointing out constellations to each other and listening to the crickets sing.
It’s three minutes past midnight when Jared rolls over onto his side in the high grass and kisses Jensen, right on the mouth.
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Anyway, I really love this fic. It's so sweet and it captures the moment perfectly.
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♥!!!
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u r a sweetie pie.
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IT WAS SO SWEET I HAVE A TOOTHACHE!
oh shmoopy shmoopy boy love!
*feeds you cookies and holds you*
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Hmmmmm. Schmoop. Lovely. :)
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Tracy