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Fic: Hello, I love you (PG-13, JA/JP)
I'm actually going to do this, like, formally. Woah.
Title: Hello, I Love You
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Wordcount: 1,550
Notes: I'm sorry, Jim Morrison. And, extra special thanks to my awesome beta,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
robin1618, who rocked hardcore. I love ya, baby! Any remaining mistakes are mine.
The weekend, for Jensen, is a kind of heaven. He wakes up late, he goes to bed whenever he feels like it, he showers after he eats dinner, and no one bothers him. It’s routine and it works.
That is, it works until Jared shows up on his doorstep one Friday night and refuses to leave him alone.
And, sure, Jensen loves hanging out with Jared. He’s a great guy, fun to be around, even though he laughs like a donkey when he’s had a few beers. But up until now, he’s never intruded on Jensen’s weekends, and Jen’s not sure if he’s grateful or irritated when Jared lumbers by him without an invitation and parks himself on the couch.
“Get me a beer, bitch,” Jared says.
Jensen decides to be irritated.
---
Against his better judgment, Jen gets dragged in by Jared’s good cheer and ends up sprawled across his couch with Jared’s huge fuzzy head blocking his view of whatever shit movie they’re watching.
“Move it, Padalecki,” he says, shoving.
“Make me,” Jared says, shoving back harder.
“Oh, hell no,” Jensen says, and it’s on.
With barely a thought to his poor coffee table, Jen tackles Jared from behind, sending them both to the floor. They scuffle for a few minutes, cursing and huffing for breath, and Jensen gets a hard elbow to his ribs before he has Jared in a headlock, scrubbing his fist through Jared’s hair for all he’s worth.
Not that anything can really affect the mop on Jared’s head anyway.
“Say it,” Jensen wheezes, and damn, he should have known Padalecki would be a squirmy bastard.
“Never, old man,” Jared wheezes back, wriggling out from under Jensen and starting the whole battle over again with a yell that sounds something like cowabunga!
Jared doesn’t go home until Sunday.
---
“I had plans tonight, you know,” Jensen says conversationally the next Saturday, stuffing a chip into his mouth and watching Angelina Jolie shoot some stone monsters.
“No, you didn’t.” And Jared looks so damn smug and knowing it’s really not Jensen’s fault that he reaches over and punches the asshole in the shoulder, hard. Boy deserves it.
He smirks on Monday when they’re changing into their set clothes and he sees the purpling bruise. Jared gives him the finger and then trips him on the way out of the costume trailer, but he laughs when Jen offers to kiss it better.
---
It becomes a sort of ritual for Jared to show up at Jensen’s apartment and harass him every weekend.
Jensen doesn’t ask why, but he does start stocking up on M&Ms.
---
One Friday, after a particularly brutal day of shooting, Jared doesn’t show up.
Jensen contemplates all the different and horrible things that could be keeping him away, ranging from the mundane (traffic) to the insane (he’s been captured by a group of hunters who thought he was Sasquatch and then found out he was just really tall) to the absolutely terrifying (he drove into a ditch and hit his head against the steering wheel and he’s passed out).
He’s through dialing Jared’s cell phone before he even realizes the phone is in his hand.
It rings and rings and rings, and just as Jensen’s about the throw the stupid thing across the room, Jared picks up.
“What the fuck, man?” he says, voice gruff and sleepy.
Jen suddenly feels like the biggest idiot in the world.
“Sorry, J,” Jensen mumbles, wishing a convenient hole would open in his kitchen. “Didn’t think you’d be asleep.”
“What’s goin’ on?” There’s a soft rustling in the background and a vivid mental image of Jared with quiet, sleepy eyes rubbing a giant fist against his cheek takes Jensen by surprise.
“Nothing,” he says. “Go back to sleep.”
He flips his phone closed and mentally shakes himself before going to bed, even though he’s not tired. It just doesn’t seem right to watch the Ren and Stimpy marathon without Jared sitting at the other end of the couch, giggling like a little girl every time Ren’s eyes bug out.
---
That Tuesday when he sees Jared for the first time since the Friday before, Jensen can’t ignore the bright, cutting feeling of relief in his stomach and he flubs all of his lines for the rest of the day.
Jen knows Jared’s eyes are narrow with concern every time he looks over toward him because Jen watches that dark head every minute they’re on set.
---
“Man, I am dying for some pizza,” Jared says as soon as Jensen picks up his cell, no hello or how’s your momma.
“And I care, why?” Jensen wonders what it says about him that almost immediately he starts flipping through the phonebook for the local pizza joint’s number.
“Because you love me,” Jared replies, like it’s obvious. “Duh.”
Jensen’s heart stops for a minute and he freezes with his finger on the name of some hair salon that advertises bikini waxing.
“Bite me,” he says, voice steady. “I’ll call the pizza in. Pick it up in 15 minutes under your name.”
He hangs up without waiting for an answer and just breathes, leaning against his cool granite counter. When the feeling of the tile under his feet comes back, Jensen picks up the phone and calls in the pizza.
“Yeah, I’d like to place an order for pick-up,” he says, like he hasn’t just discovered he might be in love with his best friend. “Regular pie, half mushroom, and a dozen garlic knots.”
---
“Jensen,” Jared says, drawing it out, and Jensen has to stamp down a sudden vision of Jared under him, moaning his name just like that.
“What?” he asks.
“You ordered mushrooms?”
Jensen smiles and takes a huge bite of his slice of mushroom pizza, loving Jared’s wince. He sticks out his tongue, covered in half-chewed pizza, just for good measure.
“Ew, Jen! That’s disgusting! Put that back!” Jared yells, a kind of fascinating green color.
“That’s not what you said last night,” Jen teases, feeling bold.
“It wasn’t covered in fungus and tomato sauce last night.” He looks reproachful and absolutely adorable. Jensen pulls his tongue back in and swallows, then sticks it back out for inspection.
“Better?” he asks and Jared nods.
“I hate mushrooms,” Jared confesses in an undertone a few minutes later, saying it like any other person would say I abuse babies. Jensen watches him rip up two slices worth of crust before he shifts forward and puts a hand over Jared’s.
“Do you want me to put the bad mushrooms in the freezer? Will that make you feel better?”
He laughs through Jared’s five sucker punches and snickers every time he sees the bruises on his chest in the mirror for the next few days.
---
It sort of shocks Jensen when he stops one day and realizes the season is nearly finished filming. Everything is so routine, so natural, that it’s hard to remember he’s done other shows and Supernatural isn’t the be-all and end-all.
He tries to think of weekends before Jared for a full five minutes, leaning against his trailer, and can’t.
---
The two of them are sitting on Jensen’s couch watching Batman and Robin and bitching about women when Jared turns serious eyes on Jensen.
“Hey, Jen?” he asks. “You ever think about guys? Like, as an alternative.”
And it’s like a replay of that one time in the kitchen except without the phonebook and the phone and Jensen having time to hug his counter while he composes himself.
“Um,” he says, intelligently.
Jared isn’t deterred. He clears the bag of peanut M&Ms off the couch and slides a little bit closer to Jensen on the couch.
“I mean, I won’t say I never have, so it’s not gonna get all weird if you say yes,” he says with what he clearly thinks is delicacy and Jensen really wonders how much his heart can take before it just stops working. Why is Jared so close? He should stop being so close.
“Um,” Jensen says again.
When Jared’s big arm settles around his shoulders, it’s like every horrible teenage cliché he’s ever known. He wonders, a little hysterically, if Jared is going to ask him to wear his class ring. Then, Jared’s hand fists in the short hairs at the back of his head and all thought stops.
“What are you doing?” he manages.
But Jared doesn’t answer as he closes his eyes, leans in and presses his lips against Jensen’s, all soft, demanding pressure. Jensen sighs after a minute and opens for Jared, holding on with his hand clenched in Jared’s blue t-shirt.
It probably should be awkward, like most first kisses, but it’s not; it’s like coming home.
---
Nothing really changes after that. Jared still calls him old man and puts cellophane over his toilet seat; Jensen still orders mushroom pizza whenever he can and teases Jared about being part giant.
Waking up with Jared next to him in bed, wrapped in every single inch of the covers, becomes just as common to Jensen as brushing his teeth. If sometimes Jensen forgets to breathe or feels like his heart might burst from being so full, he tries not to mention it.
The end
Title: Hello, I Love You
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Wordcount: 1,550
Notes: I'm sorry, Jim Morrison. And, extra special thanks to my awesome beta,
robin1618, who rocked hardcore. I love ya, baby! Any remaining mistakes are mine.The weekend, for Jensen, is a kind of heaven. He wakes up late, he goes to bed whenever he feels like it, he showers after he eats dinner, and no one bothers him. It’s routine and it works.
That is, it works until Jared shows up on his doorstep one Friday night and refuses to leave him alone.
And, sure, Jensen loves hanging out with Jared. He’s a great guy, fun to be around, even though he laughs like a donkey when he’s had a few beers. But up until now, he’s never intruded on Jensen’s weekends, and Jen’s not sure if he’s grateful or irritated when Jared lumbers by him without an invitation and parks himself on the couch.
“Get me a beer, bitch,” Jared says.
Jensen decides to be irritated.
---
Against his better judgment, Jen gets dragged in by Jared’s good cheer and ends up sprawled across his couch with Jared’s huge fuzzy head blocking his view of whatever shit movie they’re watching.
“Move it, Padalecki,” he says, shoving.
“Make me,” Jared says, shoving back harder.
“Oh, hell no,” Jensen says, and it’s on.
With barely a thought to his poor coffee table, Jen tackles Jared from behind, sending them both to the floor. They scuffle for a few minutes, cursing and huffing for breath, and Jensen gets a hard elbow to his ribs before he has Jared in a headlock, scrubbing his fist through Jared’s hair for all he’s worth.
Not that anything can really affect the mop on Jared’s head anyway.
“Say it,” Jensen wheezes, and damn, he should have known Padalecki would be a squirmy bastard.
“Never, old man,” Jared wheezes back, wriggling out from under Jensen and starting the whole battle over again with a yell that sounds something like cowabunga!
Jared doesn’t go home until Sunday.
---
“I had plans tonight, you know,” Jensen says conversationally the next Saturday, stuffing a chip into his mouth and watching Angelina Jolie shoot some stone monsters.
“No, you didn’t.” And Jared looks so damn smug and knowing it’s really not Jensen’s fault that he reaches over and punches the asshole in the shoulder, hard. Boy deserves it.
He smirks on Monday when they’re changing into their set clothes and he sees the purpling bruise. Jared gives him the finger and then trips him on the way out of the costume trailer, but he laughs when Jen offers to kiss it better.
---
It becomes a sort of ritual for Jared to show up at Jensen’s apartment and harass him every weekend.
Jensen doesn’t ask why, but he does start stocking up on M&Ms.
---
One Friday, after a particularly brutal day of shooting, Jared doesn’t show up.
Jensen contemplates all the different and horrible things that could be keeping him away, ranging from the mundane (traffic) to the insane (he’s been captured by a group of hunters who thought he was Sasquatch and then found out he was just really tall) to the absolutely terrifying (he drove into a ditch and hit his head against the steering wheel and he’s passed out).
He’s through dialing Jared’s cell phone before he even realizes the phone is in his hand.
It rings and rings and rings, and just as Jensen’s about the throw the stupid thing across the room, Jared picks up.
“What the fuck, man?” he says, voice gruff and sleepy.
Jen suddenly feels like the biggest idiot in the world.
“Sorry, J,” Jensen mumbles, wishing a convenient hole would open in his kitchen. “Didn’t think you’d be asleep.”
“What’s goin’ on?” There’s a soft rustling in the background and a vivid mental image of Jared with quiet, sleepy eyes rubbing a giant fist against his cheek takes Jensen by surprise.
“Nothing,” he says. “Go back to sleep.”
He flips his phone closed and mentally shakes himself before going to bed, even though he’s not tired. It just doesn’t seem right to watch the Ren and Stimpy marathon without Jared sitting at the other end of the couch, giggling like a little girl every time Ren’s eyes bug out.
---
That Tuesday when he sees Jared for the first time since the Friday before, Jensen can’t ignore the bright, cutting feeling of relief in his stomach and he flubs all of his lines for the rest of the day.
Jen knows Jared’s eyes are narrow with concern every time he looks over toward him because Jen watches that dark head every minute they’re on set.
---
“Man, I am dying for some pizza,” Jared says as soon as Jensen picks up his cell, no hello or how’s your momma.
“And I care, why?” Jensen wonders what it says about him that almost immediately he starts flipping through the phonebook for the local pizza joint’s number.
“Because you love me,” Jared replies, like it’s obvious. “Duh.”
Jensen’s heart stops for a minute and he freezes with his finger on the name of some hair salon that advertises bikini waxing.
“Bite me,” he says, voice steady. “I’ll call the pizza in. Pick it up in 15 minutes under your name.”
He hangs up without waiting for an answer and just breathes, leaning against his cool granite counter. When the feeling of the tile under his feet comes back, Jensen picks up the phone and calls in the pizza.
“Yeah, I’d like to place an order for pick-up,” he says, like he hasn’t just discovered he might be in love with his best friend. “Regular pie, half mushroom, and a dozen garlic knots.”
---
“Jensen,” Jared says, drawing it out, and Jensen has to stamp down a sudden vision of Jared under him, moaning his name just like that.
“What?” he asks.
“You ordered mushrooms?”
Jensen smiles and takes a huge bite of his slice of mushroom pizza, loving Jared’s wince. He sticks out his tongue, covered in half-chewed pizza, just for good measure.
“Ew, Jen! That’s disgusting! Put that back!” Jared yells, a kind of fascinating green color.
“That’s not what you said last night,” Jen teases, feeling bold.
“It wasn’t covered in fungus and tomato sauce last night.” He looks reproachful and absolutely adorable. Jensen pulls his tongue back in and swallows, then sticks it back out for inspection.
“Better?” he asks and Jared nods.
“I hate mushrooms,” Jared confesses in an undertone a few minutes later, saying it like any other person would say I abuse babies. Jensen watches him rip up two slices worth of crust before he shifts forward and puts a hand over Jared’s.
“Do you want me to put the bad mushrooms in the freezer? Will that make you feel better?”
He laughs through Jared’s five sucker punches and snickers every time he sees the bruises on his chest in the mirror for the next few days.
---
It sort of shocks Jensen when he stops one day and realizes the season is nearly finished filming. Everything is so routine, so natural, that it’s hard to remember he’s done other shows and Supernatural isn’t the be-all and end-all.
He tries to think of weekends before Jared for a full five minutes, leaning against his trailer, and can’t.
---
The two of them are sitting on Jensen’s couch watching Batman and Robin and bitching about women when Jared turns serious eyes on Jensen.
“Hey, Jen?” he asks. “You ever think about guys? Like, as an alternative.”
And it’s like a replay of that one time in the kitchen except without the phonebook and the phone and Jensen having time to hug his counter while he composes himself.
“Um,” he says, intelligently.
Jared isn’t deterred. He clears the bag of peanut M&Ms off the couch and slides a little bit closer to Jensen on the couch.
“I mean, I won’t say I never have, so it’s not gonna get all weird if you say yes,” he says with what he clearly thinks is delicacy and Jensen really wonders how much his heart can take before it just stops working. Why is Jared so close? He should stop being so close.
“Um,” Jensen says again.
When Jared’s big arm settles around his shoulders, it’s like every horrible teenage cliché he’s ever known. He wonders, a little hysterically, if Jared is going to ask him to wear his class ring. Then, Jared’s hand fists in the short hairs at the back of his head and all thought stops.
“What are you doing?” he manages.
But Jared doesn’t answer as he closes his eyes, leans in and presses his lips against Jensen’s, all soft, demanding pressure. Jensen sighs after a minute and opens for Jared, holding on with his hand clenched in Jared’s blue t-shirt.
It probably should be awkward, like most first kisses, but it’s not; it’s like coming home.
---
Nothing really changes after that. Jared still calls him old man and puts cellophane over his toilet seat; Jensen still orders mushroom pizza whenever he can and teases Jared about being part giant.
Waking up with Jared next to him in bed, wrapped in every single inch of the covers, becomes just as common to Jensen as brushing his teeth. If sometimes Jensen forgets to breathe or feels like his heart might burst from being so full, he tries not to mention it.
The end
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The Impala should be involved somehow, I think, and she should talk like Elizabeth Hurley.
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Sex would of course ensue.no subject
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....inevitably Sam gets tied up.
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The boy has an autoerotic asphyxiation fetish. Or maybe Dean does.
And don't even get me started on all the gun kinks there would be. And the Boondock Saints and the Winchsters could wear their PRIESTIFORMS, OMG.
I really like this film.
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Oh my GOD, why does someone not make this now?
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... have visions of them irreversably tying up my hands. Am oddly turned on.
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Hoo, I need a minute.
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