RPS Fic: Be it ever so humble (J2, NC-17)
Because I haven't written J2 in forever, and those TV Guide interviews were begging for fic.
Title: Be it ever so humble, or Five houses Jared doesn’t buy (and one he does)
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened.
Summary: The title says it all.
Notes: Vague spoilers for S3. 2,200 words.
1.
Jared’s been talking about buying a house ever since they came back from summer hiatus, but Jensen figures it’s just that - talk. Jared talks like other people breathe, and if Jensen hadn’t learned how to filter out the meaningless stuff by now, he’d have a head full of random crap like Jared’s Guitar Hero scores or his feelings on the great Pop Tarts vs. Toaster Strudel debate, and no room left for his own thoughts or Dean’s lines.
So when Jared calls early on one of their days off and says, “I’m picking you up in half an hour. We’ve got houses to see,” Jensen figures it’s bullshit and hangs up before going back to sleep. But Jared keeps calling back, and then there’s knocking on his door, and Jensen finally gets up just to tell Jared to fuck off and die, because nothing short of a nuclear apocalypse is getting him out of bed so early on his day off.
Jared’s neatly dressed, nice shirt tucked into khakis and wearing honest-to-god loafers, and Jensen pauses for a second, blinking blearily, before he asks, “Did someone die?”
Jared sighs. “Not yet. But we’re going to be late now, and the realtor lady is kind of scary, so if you don’t get your ass out to my car in the next five minutes, it’s still a possibility.”
So it turns out Jared was actually serious about the buying-a-house thing. “I’ve been flirting Vancouver for the last three years,” Jared explains as Jensen throws on some clothes. “I’m tired of sneaking around at hotels. It’s time to commit.”
Jensen thinks that’s possibly the weirdest thing Jared has ever said to him. “And what’s next?” he asks, raking fingers through his hair in the mirror. “Gonna buy a ring? Propose to the old gal?”
“We’re taking things slow,” Jared says, straightening the collar of Jensen’s shirt. “For now, we’re just living in sin.”
Jensen laughs. “So if we have sex in your house, does that actually count as a threesome?”
“Do you want it to?” Jared asks, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I bet Vancouver likes to watch.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.” Jensen shoves his feet into his shoes and grabs his keys and wallet, pushing Jared towards the door. “And why are you making me come, anyway?”
“Because you’re going to be spending more time in my new house than anyone else.”
Jensen sighs. “But I don’t care what kind of a house you buy. As long as there’s a roof and a bed and somewhere to keep the beer, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re the one who’s always insulting my fashion sense,” Jared points out. “I thought you’d want to give your opinion.”
“That’s because every time I go shopping with you, you head straight for things that are pink and paisley,” Jensen shoots back. Then he pauses. “Okay, maybe I should come along.”
Jared smirks and pushes the elevator button.
* * *
Jared’s right, the realtor is a little scary. She’s perfectly groomed from the top of her heavily hairsprayed head right down to her viciously pointy-toed shoes, and everything about her is a combination of ladylike and lethal, fingernails like claws and sharply cut suit. Jensen introduces himself as a friend of Jared’s along for moral support, just in case she recognizes them, but judging by the bare flicker of a glance she gives him before turning her full attention on Jared, it seems she’s not a fan.
The first house she shows them is designed to look like a backwoods cabin, all wooden paneling and giant beam rafters under a high roof. The realtor goes on about rustic charm and how cozy and homey the place is, but as they stand in the living room looking out a big bay window, Jared whispers in Jensen’s ear, “I feel like the walls are just crying out for something dead and stuffed.”
Jensen has to stifle a laugh, and the rest of the tour they whisper suggestions back and forth, ranging from squirrels to moose to maybe even a wildebeest (which provokes an argument over whether wildebeests actually have horns or not). Jensen suggests a bearskin rug, just for posterity - they’ll need in front of the huge stone fireplace - and Jared shudders and stops the realtor’s spiel and tells her this is not really his style.
2.
The second house isn’t actually a house. Apparently there’s an old factory building that’s been “reclaimed” as living space and divided up into lofts, and Jared’s realtor shows them the most expensive option, which is on the top floor.
The place is weirdly industrial, huge pipes snaking across the ceiling and smooth cement floors, and the walls don’t extend up to the high ceilings, so Jared’s shoes scuffing in one bedroom are clearly audible in the far corner of the drafty kitchen. It’s kind of impersonal and impractical and like living in a big, open garage.
When Jared raises his eyebrows, Jensen makes a face. “This place is pretentious and weird.”
Jared laughs. “It is kind of bizarre. And there’s nowhere for the dogs to run, so it’s pretty much a no. But that view is awesome.”
One of the bedrooms has floor-to-ceiling windows and an admittedly gorgeous view of the skyline, and Jared drags Jensen over to stand in front of it. “Just think,” he says, breath warm against Jensen’s ear. “We could lie in bed at night and see the whole skyline lit up like stars.” Jensen leans back against him a little, thinking that wouldn’t be so bad, but then Jared says, “And then in the morning we could stand here naked and never know what innocent Vancouverite might be staring at us with binoculars.”
“Wow, yeah, stalking is so sexy,” Jensen says, pulling away. “I think some pictures of us naked and fucking on the internet are just what the show needs.” Unfortunately that’s right when the realtor walks in, and she raises an eyebrow.
“I don’t think this one’s going to work,” Jared tells her, blushing.
3.
The third house is beautiful in terms of architecture, but no matter what the realtor lady says about it being fully renovated and its classic appeal, the place is just plain old. It’s a maze of cramped rooms and narrow hallways, a rickety staircase leading to a second floor that smells like a century of dust and mold, and bathrooms so tiny that the realtor barely fits inside, much less Jensen or his giant boyfriend (and certainly not both of them together, which really blows the deal for Jensen).
Jared thinks it’s kind of cool, though, running his fingers along ornate door handles and peering up at the light fixtures, but after he smacks his head on the third doorframe and finds out he has to hunch to even fit in the kitchen, where the sink barely comes up to his thighs, he concedes it’s not the best fit.
“How could you even sleep here?” Jensen asks, eyeing the dark corners and bad lighting. “It’s like being on set. I keep thinking I’m Dean and we have to de-spirit this place.”
“Well, I can see why you’re worried, then,” Jared says. “Dean can’t even do an exorcism without Sam. It must suck feeling so helpless without your big, strong brother to rescue you.”
“Right, the big, strong brother that gets choked every week,” Jensen counters.
“Well, at least I’m not getting thrown into - “ But just then, the door behind them creaks, opening slowly on squeaking hinges, and they can still hear the click of the realtor’s heels in the dining room.
Jared swallows. “Yeah, okay, this place is creepy.”
4.
Jensen blows Jared in the kitchen of the fourth house, mostly because he’s bored as hell (the house is nothing special, but Jared keeps insisting there’s something off about it) and because the realtor stepped outside to take a call on her cell phone, saying it would only take five minutes, and Jensen has always liked a challenge.
He uses all his best moves, humming around Jared’s cock as he pushes his tongue flat against the underside, his other hand meeting his mouth and spreading spit down the shaft, and he’s only used up four and a quarter of his minutes before Jared’s coming, hips jerking against the counter and his hands clenching in Jensen’s hair.
Jensen swallows what he can and licks up the rest before tucking Jared back into his pants. He stands up, expecting a kiss and possibly some praise for his talented mouth, but instead Jared pulls back and says, “Portholes.”
“Excuse me?” Jensen asks.
“Portholes,” Jared repeats. “That’s what’s been bothering me about this house. All the windows are small and kind of high up, and they make me feel like I’m on a ship.”
Jensen stares. “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
“Well, yeah,” Jared says. “I get seasick.”
Jensen almost runs into the realtor when he storms out the door. She grabs his arm. “How does Mr. Padalecki like the house?”
“More than oral sex, apparently,” Jensen mutters.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Jensen flashes her a smile. “It's got his attention, I can tell you that.”
5.
“I said I was sorry.”
“Little too late for that.”
“I just got a little distracted, Jensen! I didn’t say it was a bad blowjob - it was a good one.”
“Yeah, so good you couldn’t stop thinking about windows. I’m really flattered.”
“Well, I have a lot on my mind. Picking a house is serious business.”
“Serious?” Jensen asks incredulously. “So far your selection process has depended on seasickness, ghosts, and dead stuffed animals. Is there even any logic involved?”
“Jensen, you can’t pick a house based on logic.”
Jensen’s head thunks against the wall.
“It’s something you just have to feel,” Jared explains.
Jensen waves a hand at the fifth house, which seems perfectly nice to him - actually, pretty fucking sweet. It even has a Jacuzzi. “And you’re not feeling it?”
Jared wrinkles his nose. “The house is nice,” he admits. “But I just don’t think it’s really me.”
“Of course not,” Jensen mutters. “Jacuzzi, wet bar, huge master bedroom - definitely not you.”
Jared ignores him, grabbing his hand. “Here, I’ll show you.” He drags Jensen outside, then closes the front door. The realtor peers out at them from the kitchen window, but Jared just stands there a second, taking a deep breath, then throws the front door open with a flourish, stepping inside. He takes in every detail of the foyer and the living room beyond, then sighs, deflating like a balloon, and shakes his head.
Jensen raises an eyebrow.
“It’s just not home,” Jared says mournfully.
“I’ve still got more to show you,” the realtor says reassuringly. “I’m sure you’ll love this next one.”
Jensen’s pretty sure he should have just stayed in bed.
* * *
1.
By the time they get to the last house, it’s almost dinnertime, the sun sliding below the trees, and Jensen is completely exhausted. He thought he’d stored up enough relaxation this summer to get him through their insane shooting schedule for at least a few months, but apparently it doesn’t work that way. He goes along for the initial tour, but when Jared and the realtor start talking specifics and square feet, he wanders off and finds a comfortable sofa to crash on. He knows the furniture belongs to the family, and normally he’d feel awkward about acting like a guest when they’re not even there, but right now he’s too tired to care. He props his feet up on the ottoman and leans his head back against the cushions, and oh, yeah. That’s perfect.
He dozes for a few minutes, Jared and the realtor’s voices a gentle hum in the background, then wakes up a little when footsteps go by him. He cracks an eye just enough to see Jared going out the front door - going to do his weird little homecoming test again - then closes them again.
He hears the front door open, and then there’s several seconds of silence. He thinks about opening his eyes again, just to make sure the realtor isn’t watching him or something, but then a weight settles on the couch next to him, and fingers brush his chin before Jared’s mouth comes down on his.
Jensen kisses him back lazily, but Jared pulls back after only a few seconds and says, “This is the one.”
Jensen’s eyes fly open. “Wait, what?”
Jared grins, skin bright with the last rays of the sun coming through the window. “This is the house I want.” He leans back next to Jensen. “You like it?”
It’s a nice house - not too big and not too small, a nice yard out back and a big deck that would be good for grilling, on a quiet and tree-lined street that offers enough privacy. Jensen had noticed all those things upon seeing the place, but in an idle, speculative way, not thinking Jared would actually say yes and those things could be real, translated into plans for their future.
“Yeah, I do,” Jensen says, mouth curling up into a smile. “Feels like home, huh?”
“Yeah,” Jared says, leaning in to kiss him again.
Title: Be it ever so humble, or Five houses Jared doesn’t buy (and one he does)
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened.
Summary: The title says it all.
Notes: Vague spoilers for S3. 2,200 words.
1.
Jared’s been talking about buying a house ever since they came back from summer hiatus, but Jensen figures it’s just that - talk. Jared talks like other people breathe, and if Jensen hadn’t learned how to filter out the meaningless stuff by now, he’d have a head full of random crap like Jared’s Guitar Hero scores or his feelings on the great Pop Tarts vs. Toaster Strudel debate, and no room left for his own thoughts or Dean’s lines.
So when Jared calls early on one of their days off and says, “I’m picking you up in half an hour. We’ve got houses to see,” Jensen figures it’s bullshit and hangs up before going back to sleep. But Jared keeps calling back, and then there’s knocking on his door, and Jensen finally gets up just to tell Jared to fuck off and die, because nothing short of a nuclear apocalypse is getting him out of bed so early on his day off.
Jared’s neatly dressed, nice shirt tucked into khakis and wearing honest-to-god loafers, and Jensen pauses for a second, blinking blearily, before he asks, “Did someone die?”
Jared sighs. “Not yet. But we’re going to be late now, and the realtor lady is kind of scary, so if you don’t get your ass out to my car in the next five minutes, it’s still a possibility.”
So it turns out Jared was actually serious about the buying-a-house thing. “I’ve been flirting Vancouver for the last three years,” Jared explains as Jensen throws on some clothes. “I’m tired of sneaking around at hotels. It’s time to commit.”
Jensen thinks that’s possibly the weirdest thing Jared has ever said to him. “And what’s next?” he asks, raking fingers through his hair in the mirror. “Gonna buy a ring? Propose to the old gal?”
“We’re taking things slow,” Jared says, straightening the collar of Jensen’s shirt. “For now, we’re just living in sin.”
Jensen laughs. “So if we have sex in your house, does that actually count as a threesome?”
“Do you want it to?” Jared asks, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I bet Vancouver likes to watch.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.” Jensen shoves his feet into his shoes and grabs his keys and wallet, pushing Jared towards the door. “And why are you making me come, anyway?”
“Because you’re going to be spending more time in my new house than anyone else.”
Jensen sighs. “But I don’t care what kind of a house you buy. As long as there’s a roof and a bed and somewhere to keep the beer, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re the one who’s always insulting my fashion sense,” Jared points out. “I thought you’d want to give your opinion.”
“That’s because every time I go shopping with you, you head straight for things that are pink and paisley,” Jensen shoots back. Then he pauses. “Okay, maybe I should come along.”
Jared smirks and pushes the elevator button.
* * *
Jared’s right, the realtor is a little scary. She’s perfectly groomed from the top of her heavily hairsprayed head right down to her viciously pointy-toed shoes, and everything about her is a combination of ladylike and lethal, fingernails like claws and sharply cut suit. Jensen introduces himself as a friend of Jared’s along for moral support, just in case she recognizes them, but judging by the bare flicker of a glance she gives him before turning her full attention on Jared, it seems she’s not a fan.
The first house she shows them is designed to look like a backwoods cabin, all wooden paneling and giant beam rafters under a high roof. The realtor goes on about rustic charm and how cozy and homey the place is, but as they stand in the living room looking out a big bay window, Jared whispers in Jensen’s ear, “I feel like the walls are just crying out for something dead and stuffed.”
Jensen has to stifle a laugh, and the rest of the tour they whisper suggestions back and forth, ranging from squirrels to moose to maybe even a wildebeest (which provokes an argument over whether wildebeests actually have horns or not). Jensen suggests a bearskin rug, just for posterity - they’ll need in front of the huge stone fireplace - and Jared shudders and stops the realtor’s spiel and tells her this is not really his style.
2.
The second house isn’t actually a house. Apparently there’s an old factory building that’s been “reclaimed” as living space and divided up into lofts, and Jared’s realtor shows them the most expensive option, which is on the top floor.
The place is weirdly industrial, huge pipes snaking across the ceiling and smooth cement floors, and the walls don’t extend up to the high ceilings, so Jared’s shoes scuffing in one bedroom are clearly audible in the far corner of the drafty kitchen. It’s kind of impersonal and impractical and like living in a big, open garage.
When Jared raises his eyebrows, Jensen makes a face. “This place is pretentious and weird.”
Jared laughs. “It is kind of bizarre. And there’s nowhere for the dogs to run, so it’s pretty much a no. But that view is awesome.”
One of the bedrooms has floor-to-ceiling windows and an admittedly gorgeous view of the skyline, and Jared drags Jensen over to stand in front of it. “Just think,” he says, breath warm against Jensen’s ear. “We could lie in bed at night and see the whole skyline lit up like stars.” Jensen leans back against him a little, thinking that wouldn’t be so bad, but then Jared says, “And then in the morning we could stand here naked and never know what innocent Vancouverite might be staring at us with binoculars.”
“Wow, yeah, stalking is so sexy,” Jensen says, pulling away. “I think some pictures of us naked and fucking on the internet are just what the show needs.” Unfortunately that’s right when the realtor walks in, and she raises an eyebrow.
“I don’t think this one’s going to work,” Jared tells her, blushing.
3.
The third house is beautiful in terms of architecture, but no matter what the realtor lady says about it being fully renovated and its classic appeal, the place is just plain old. It’s a maze of cramped rooms and narrow hallways, a rickety staircase leading to a second floor that smells like a century of dust and mold, and bathrooms so tiny that the realtor barely fits inside, much less Jensen or his giant boyfriend (and certainly not both of them together, which really blows the deal for Jensen).
Jared thinks it’s kind of cool, though, running his fingers along ornate door handles and peering up at the light fixtures, but after he smacks his head on the third doorframe and finds out he has to hunch to even fit in the kitchen, where the sink barely comes up to his thighs, he concedes it’s not the best fit.
“How could you even sleep here?” Jensen asks, eyeing the dark corners and bad lighting. “It’s like being on set. I keep thinking I’m Dean and we have to de-spirit this place.”
“Well, I can see why you’re worried, then,” Jared says. “Dean can’t even do an exorcism without Sam. It must suck feeling so helpless without your big, strong brother to rescue you.”
“Right, the big, strong brother that gets choked every week,” Jensen counters.
“Well, at least I’m not getting thrown into - “ But just then, the door behind them creaks, opening slowly on squeaking hinges, and they can still hear the click of the realtor’s heels in the dining room.
Jared swallows. “Yeah, okay, this place is creepy.”
4.
Jensen blows Jared in the kitchen of the fourth house, mostly because he’s bored as hell (the house is nothing special, but Jared keeps insisting there’s something off about it) and because the realtor stepped outside to take a call on her cell phone, saying it would only take five minutes, and Jensen has always liked a challenge.
He uses all his best moves, humming around Jared’s cock as he pushes his tongue flat against the underside, his other hand meeting his mouth and spreading spit down the shaft, and he’s only used up four and a quarter of his minutes before Jared’s coming, hips jerking against the counter and his hands clenching in Jensen’s hair.
Jensen swallows what he can and licks up the rest before tucking Jared back into his pants. He stands up, expecting a kiss and possibly some praise for his talented mouth, but instead Jared pulls back and says, “Portholes.”
“Excuse me?” Jensen asks.
“Portholes,” Jared repeats. “That’s what’s been bothering me about this house. All the windows are small and kind of high up, and they make me feel like I’m on a ship.”
Jensen stares. “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
“Well, yeah,” Jared says. “I get seasick.”
Jensen almost runs into the realtor when he storms out the door. She grabs his arm. “How does Mr. Padalecki like the house?”
“More than oral sex, apparently,” Jensen mutters.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Jensen flashes her a smile. “It's got his attention, I can tell you that.”
5.
“I said I was sorry.”
“Little too late for that.”
“I just got a little distracted, Jensen! I didn’t say it was a bad blowjob - it was a good one.”
“Yeah, so good you couldn’t stop thinking about windows. I’m really flattered.”
“Well, I have a lot on my mind. Picking a house is serious business.”
“Serious?” Jensen asks incredulously. “So far your selection process has depended on seasickness, ghosts, and dead stuffed animals. Is there even any logic involved?”
“Jensen, you can’t pick a house based on logic.”
Jensen’s head thunks against the wall.
“It’s something you just have to feel,” Jared explains.
Jensen waves a hand at the fifth house, which seems perfectly nice to him - actually, pretty fucking sweet. It even has a Jacuzzi. “And you’re not feeling it?”
Jared wrinkles his nose. “The house is nice,” he admits. “But I just don’t think it’s really me.”
“Of course not,” Jensen mutters. “Jacuzzi, wet bar, huge master bedroom - definitely not you.”
Jared ignores him, grabbing his hand. “Here, I’ll show you.” He drags Jensen outside, then closes the front door. The realtor peers out at them from the kitchen window, but Jared just stands there a second, taking a deep breath, then throws the front door open with a flourish, stepping inside. He takes in every detail of the foyer and the living room beyond, then sighs, deflating like a balloon, and shakes his head.
Jensen raises an eyebrow.
“It’s just not home,” Jared says mournfully.
“I’ve still got more to show you,” the realtor says reassuringly. “I’m sure you’ll love this next one.”
Jensen’s pretty sure he should have just stayed in bed.
* * *
1.
By the time they get to the last house, it’s almost dinnertime, the sun sliding below the trees, and Jensen is completely exhausted. He thought he’d stored up enough relaxation this summer to get him through their insane shooting schedule for at least a few months, but apparently it doesn’t work that way. He goes along for the initial tour, but when Jared and the realtor start talking specifics and square feet, he wanders off and finds a comfortable sofa to crash on. He knows the furniture belongs to the family, and normally he’d feel awkward about acting like a guest when they’re not even there, but right now he’s too tired to care. He props his feet up on the ottoman and leans his head back against the cushions, and oh, yeah. That’s perfect.
He dozes for a few minutes, Jared and the realtor’s voices a gentle hum in the background, then wakes up a little when footsteps go by him. He cracks an eye just enough to see Jared going out the front door - going to do his weird little homecoming test again - then closes them again.
He hears the front door open, and then there’s several seconds of silence. He thinks about opening his eyes again, just to make sure the realtor isn’t watching him or something, but then a weight settles on the couch next to him, and fingers brush his chin before Jared’s mouth comes down on his.
Jensen kisses him back lazily, but Jared pulls back after only a few seconds and says, “This is the one.”
Jensen’s eyes fly open. “Wait, what?”
Jared grins, skin bright with the last rays of the sun coming through the window. “This is the house I want.” He leans back next to Jensen. “You like it?”
It’s a nice house - not too big and not too small, a nice yard out back and a big deck that would be good for grilling, on a quiet and tree-lined street that offers enough privacy. Jensen had noticed all those things upon seeing the place, but in an idle, speculative way, not thinking Jared would actually say yes and those things could be real, translated into plans for their future.
“Yeah, I do,” Jensen says, mouth curling up into a smile. “Feels like home, huh?”
“Yeah,” Jared says, leaning in to kiss him again.