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Fic: Highway to Hell (PG-13, Gen)
Title: Highway to Hell
Rating: PG-13, because they're boys
Pairing: none, gen
Characters: Jensen, Jared
Disclaimer: Don't own, blah, blah, cake.
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
legoline's b-day, if she'll have it, and the one month anniversery of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spn_gleeweek's friending extravaganza. SO MUCH AWESOME. Based on scarlett_o's prompt. Special thanks to my duck-hating beta, undecipherable, for making me fix things, and to my Kim for just being generally cool. ♥
Additionally, I actually did research for this fic. WOAH. I know, you're all shocked. Here is the mapquest cap so you can all see where they're headed. :D
One day, Jared says, “We should go on a road trip!”
And, typically, Jensen’s drunk, so he says, “Awesome idea, Bro!”
-----------
35 miles – Denton, Texas
“Jesus Christ, Jared,”
“What?” Jared asks, trying to rip open a packet of skittles with his teeth. Jensen grabs it and tears it open, jerky and irritated. “Thanks, man.”
Jared munches noisily for a few minutes, not bothering to keep his mouth closed. Jensen slumps further down in his seat and tries not to think murderous thoughts.
“What’s up, Jen? You been lookin’ like someone put lemons in your pants since we left,” Jared says, shutting the music off and turning, full body, toward the passenger seat. Jensen panics, holding on to the edge of his seat when they barely whiz by an 18-wheeler.
“Goddamnit, J, eyes on the road!”
“Woops!” Jared giggles, yanking the wheel to the right. “My bad.”
“I can’t believe you talked me into this, I’m going to die!”
-----------
249 miles – Newton, Oklahoma
Jensen’s laughing like a loon, slapping the dashboard, bent in half against the seat belt.
“Shut up,” Jared says, lips twitching. “I never should have told you, you bastard.”
“Wait, wait—“ Jensen wheezes, holding a hand up. He takes a minute to breathe, smoothing his hands against his shirt and wiping his cheeks. His calm lasts until he glances at Jared out of the corner of his eyes, and then he’s giggling all over again. “I can’t believe you did that, man.”
“She asked me to!” Jared protests, sitting up straighter. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Say ‘no’?” Jensen suggests.
Jared purses his lips. “She was, like, eight, I couldn’t say no. You have never seen my sister’s eyes when she wants something,” he says, like that settles it.
“Dude, you dressed up as a fraggle,” Jensen’s says for the fiftieth time, grinning like Christmas has come early, and Jared’s had enough. “You had red hair!”
He pulls the car onto the shoulder, ignoring Jensen’s high pitched squeak when his head hits the window, and unbuckles his seatbelt. Bitch is gonna get served.
-----------
502 miles – Ellis, Kansas
“What do you mean you didn’t fill the tank up at the last station?” Jensen asks, eyes wide and accusing. Jared rubs the back of his neck and tries not to wince when Jensen pokes him in the chest.
“I…forgot?” he offers hesitantly, then quickly runs behind the car and crouches down because, shit, Jensen is scary when he’s mad.
-----------
751 miles – Deer Trail, Colorado
Jensen’s driving, the windshield wipers a steady, comforting swish-swoosh in the near-silence. The radio, which had been bringing in only snow anyway, is off.
Jared is curled up, too-long legs jammed against his chest and the dashboard, sleeping. Those long fingers of his are curled together against the material of Jensen’s jacket, thrown across Jared’s lap as a replacement for a blanket, white and tiny against the dark black material. Hair is falling into his eyes, tickling his nose, and every once in a while, he twitches in his sleep, sneezing kitten-like and batting at his own face.
He looks peaceful, and Jensen suddenly knows exactly why Dean is so willing to give up everything for Sam.
-----------
1,058 miles – Green River, Wyoming
“Top ten movies of all time.”
“The Godfather, Star Wars: Episode III, Scarface, Dude Where’s My Car?, Tomb Raider, Singing in the Rain, Fight Club, Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, Finding Neverland—shut the fuck up, man, Johnny Depp was great in that—and American History X.”
“You are such a freak, Jensen,” Jared murmurs, awed.
“Yeah,” he replies, easy. “Top ten favorite actors—the legal ones only, please, no Olsen twins.”
“Fuck you!”
“Not while I’m driving, dear.”
“Sean Connery, Nicholas Cage, Sandra Bullock, Anthony Hopkins, Angelina Jolie, Johnny Depp, Kate Winslet, Elizabeth Hurley, and, of course,” Jared says, pausing for dramatic effect, “Jensen Ackles.”
Jensen laughs, and Jared feigns a swoon, “He’s so dreamy!”
-----------
1,206 miles – Ogden, Utah
There are ducks in the road.
There are ducks in the road and traffic is not moving because, apparently, in Utah, it’s a law that birds have the right of way.
And Jared won’t. Shut. Up.
He’s reading off a print-out he found at the last truck stop. “It's illegal in Alabama to wear a fake mustache that causes laughter in church, what the hell,” he says, giggling.
Manfully, Jensen reigns in his urge to wrap his hands around that neck and throttle him.
“A local ordinance in Atwoodville, Connecticut prohibits people from playing Scrabble while waiting for a politician to speak,” Jared continues, oblivious. He covers his mouth with his hand, faux-shocked.
“I fucking hate ducks,” Jensen says, clenching his hands around the steering wheel.
-----------
1,613 miles – La Grande, Oregon
“Can you turn the music down a little, Jare?” Jensen asks, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have a wicked headache.”
Jared throws him a concerned look and turns down the music. He reaches over the seat to rub the back of Jensen’s neck, careful and gentle and just what Jensen needs. “You forgot to take your contacts out again last night, didn’t you?” he asks, and Jensen lets his head fall forward, as much of a nod as he can manage while Jared’s fingers are turning him into a puddle. “Take anything yet?”
“No, we didn’t have any Advil,” he mumbles, leaning into those fingers like a cat having its ears scratched. “You’re helping, though.”
“Magic fingers,” Jared says, and Jensen can hear him grinning, the pervert. “Next big town we come to, we’ll stop to get you some meds and breakfast, ok, Jen?”
“Yeah,” Jensen says, settling close with his head resting against Jared’s shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
-----------
1,888 miles – North Bend, Washington
“Dude. Dude, wake the fuck up, we need to find a hotel,” Jared says, shaking Jensen’s shoulder.
Jensen comes to slowly, aware of Jared’s hoodie curled up under his face and very little else. “Wha-?” he asks, barely audible.
“We’re just outside Seattle and we need to break for the night. Come on, buddy, help me out,” Jared says and he sounds exhausted.
Jensen pinches his own thigh to wake himself up a little and says the first thing that comes to mind, “When I was five, I tried to bake cookies all by myself and I nearly lit the entire kitchen on fire. If my father hadn’t come running in with a hand towel and a fire extinguisher, I would probably not be so pretty.”
“You were a weird kid, Jen,” Jared says, smiling fondly. “I bet the cookies tasted good, though.”
“They were the best. My mom snuck me a few before bed every night until they were all gone. She used to call me her little-cook-that-could.”
Jared’s smile gets kind of wobbly around the edges. Jensen tries not to say anything else until they come up to a hotel parking lot, because, dude.
-----------
2,336 miles – Vancouver, Canada
“Wow, we’re not dead,” Jensen says, genuinely amazed.
“I love you, man,” Jared says, half asleep and slumped against Jensen’s right side. “Best. Co-star. Ever.”
Rating: PG-13, because they're boys
Pairing: none, gen
Characters: Jensen, Jared
Disclaimer: Don't own, blah, blah, cake.
Notes: For
legoline's b-day, if she'll have it, and the one month anniversery of spn_gleeweek's friending extravaganza. SO MUCH AWESOME. Based on scarlett_o's prompt. Special thanks to my duck-hating beta, undecipherable, for making me fix things, and to my Kim for just being generally cool. ♥ Additionally, I actually did research for this fic. WOAH. I know, you're all shocked. Here is the mapquest cap so you can all see where they're headed. :D
One day, Jared says, “We should go on a road trip!”
And, typically, Jensen’s drunk, so he says, “Awesome idea, Bro!”
-----------
35 miles – Denton, Texas
“Jesus Christ, Jared,”
“What?” Jared asks, trying to rip open a packet of skittles with his teeth. Jensen grabs it and tears it open, jerky and irritated. “Thanks, man.”
Jared munches noisily for a few minutes, not bothering to keep his mouth closed. Jensen slumps further down in his seat and tries not to think murderous thoughts.
“What’s up, Jen? You been lookin’ like someone put lemons in your pants since we left,” Jared says, shutting the music off and turning, full body, toward the passenger seat. Jensen panics, holding on to the edge of his seat when they barely whiz by an 18-wheeler.
“Goddamnit, J, eyes on the road!”
“Woops!” Jared giggles, yanking the wheel to the right. “My bad.”
“I can’t believe you talked me into this, I’m going to die!”
-----------
249 miles – Newton, Oklahoma
Jensen’s laughing like a loon, slapping the dashboard, bent in half against the seat belt.
“Shut up,” Jared says, lips twitching. “I never should have told you, you bastard.”
“Wait, wait—“ Jensen wheezes, holding a hand up. He takes a minute to breathe, smoothing his hands against his shirt and wiping his cheeks. His calm lasts until he glances at Jared out of the corner of his eyes, and then he’s giggling all over again. “I can’t believe you did that, man.”
“She asked me to!” Jared protests, sitting up straighter. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Say ‘no’?” Jensen suggests.
Jared purses his lips. “She was, like, eight, I couldn’t say no. You have never seen my sister’s eyes when she wants something,” he says, like that settles it.
“Dude, you dressed up as a fraggle,” Jensen’s says for the fiftieth time, grinning like Christmas has come early, and Jared’s had enough. “You had red hair!”
He pulls the car onto the shoulder, ignoring Jensen’s high pitched squeak when his head hits the window, and unbuckles his seatbelt. Bitch is gonna get served.
-----------
502 miles – Ellis, Kansas
“What do you mean you didn’t fill the tank up at the last station?” Jensen asks, eyes wide and accusing. Jared rubs the back of his neck and tries not to wince when Jensen pokes him in the chest.
“I…forgot?” he offers hesitantly, then quickly runs behind the car and crouches down because, shit, Jensen is scary when he’s mad.
-----------
751 miles – Deer Trail, Colorado
Jensen’s driving, the windshield wipers a steady, comforting swish-swoosh in the near-silence. The radio, which had been bringing in only snow anyway, is off.
Jared is curled up, too-long legs jammed against his chest and the dashboard, sleeping. Those long fingers of his are curled together against the material of Jensen’s jacket, thrown across Jared’s lap as a replacement for a blanket, white and tiny against the dark black material. Hair is falling into his eyes, tickling his nose, and every once in a while, he twitches in his sleep, sneezing kitten-like and batting at his own face.
He looks peaceful, and Jensen suddenly knows exactly why Dean is so willing to give up everything for Sam.
-----------
1,058 miles – Green River, Wyoming
“Top ten movies of all time.”
“The Godfather, Star Wars: Episode III, Scarface, Dude Where’s My Car?, Tomb Raider, Singing in the Rain, Fight Club, Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, Finding Neverland—shut the fuck up, man, Johnny Depp was great in that—and American History X.”
“You are such a freak, Jensen,” Jared murmurs, awed.
“Yeah,” he replies, easy. “Top ten favorite actors—the legal ones only, please, no Olsen twins.”
“Fuck you!”
“Not while I’m driving, dear.”
“Sean Connery, Nicholas Cage, Sandra Bullock, Anthony Hopkins, Angelina Jolie, Johnny Depp, Kate Winslet, Elizabeth Hurley, and, of course,” Jared says, pausing for dramatic effect, “Jensen Ackles.”
Jensen laughs, and Jared feigns a swoon, “He’s so dreamy!”
-----------
1,206 miles – Ogden, Utah
There are ducks in the road.
There are ducks in the road and traffic is not moving because, apparently, in Utah, it’s a law that birds have the right of way.
And Jared won’t. Shut. Up.
He’s reading off a print-out he found at the last truck stop. “It's illegal in Alabama to wear a fake mustache that causes laughter in church, what the hell,” he says, giggling.
Manfully, Jensen reigns in his urge to wrap his hands around that neck and throttle him.
“A local ordinance in Atwoodville, Connecticut prohibits people from playing Scrabble while waiting for a politician to speak,” Jared continues, oblivious. He covers his mouth with his hand, faux-shocked.
“I fucking hate ducks,” Jensen says, clenching his hands around the steering wheel.
-----------
1,613 miles – La Grande, Oregon
“Can you turn the music down a little, Jare?” Jensen asks, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have a wicked headache.”
Jared throws him a concerned look and turns down the music. He reaches over the seat to rub the back of Jensen’s neck, careful and gentle and just what Jensen needs. “You forgot to take your contacts out again last night, didn’t you?” he asks, and Jensen lets his head fall forward, as much of a nod as he can manage while Jared’s fingers are turning him into a puddle. “Take anything yet?”
“No, we didn’t have any Advil,” he mumbles, leaning into those fingers like a cat having its ears scratched. “You’re helping, though.”
“Magic fingers,” Jared says, and Jensen can hear him grinning, the pervert. “Next big town we come to, we’ll stop to get you some meds and breakfast, ok, Jen?”
“Yeah,” Jensen says, settling close with his head resting against Jared’s shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
-----------
1,888 miles – North Bend, Washington
“Dude. Dude, wake the fuck up, we need to find a hotel,” Jared says, shaking Jensen’s shoulder.
Jensen comes to slowly, aware of Jared’s hoodie curled up under his face and very little else. “Wha-?” he asks, barely audible.
“We’re just outside Seattle and we need to break for the night. Come on, buddy, help me out,” Jared says and he sounds exhausted.
Jensen pinches his own thigh to wake himself up a little and says the first thing that comes to mind, “When I was five, I tried to bake cookies all by myself and I nearly lit the entire kitchen on fire. If my father hadn’t come running in with a hand towel and a fire extinguisher, I would probably not be so pretty.”
“You were a weird kid, Jen,” Jared says, smiling fondly. “I bet the cookies tasted good, though.”
“They were the best. My mom snuck me a few before bed every night until they were all gone. She used to call me her little-cook-that-could.”
Jared’s smile gets kind of wobbly around the edges. Jensen tries not to say anything else until they come up to a hotel parking lot, because, dude.
-----------
2,336 miles – Vancouver, Canada
“Wow, we’re not dead,” Jensen says, genuinely amazed.
“I love you, man,” Jared says, half asleep and slumped against Jensen’s right side. “Best. Co-star. Ever.”
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