RPS Fic: Don't go to bed angry
Title: Don't go to bed angry
Author: deirdre_c
Fandom/Rating: J2, PG-13
Word Count: ~850
Summary: Fighting with Jared was different now.
Author's Note: A wee gift written for the most wonderful destina on her birthday.
It was late and their shouting match was over two hours old and Jensen found himself in the first floor bedroom he hadn’t slept in since January, arms crossed over his chest, staring at the ceiling.
He heard the doorknob turn and shut his eyes, then realized he couldn’t convincingly be asleep in this particular position.
“Fuck off, Jared.”
“No.” It was calm and certain and pissed Jensen off even more.
Jensen felt the mattress dip. “I said: Fuck. Off.”
Fuming, he waited for Jared to try to embrace him, cajole him, but Jared simply lay down on his back, mirroring Jensen’s position, not even looking at him.
“No.”
As long as he’d known Jared, it seemed like shit just beaded up and rolled off of him, but Jensen, well, he liked to cling to his anger, hoard it in a big, solid ball roiling through the acid in his gut. Two hours was nowhere near long enough. Jensen figured on at least two days or maybe two goddamned weeks.
So they sat there in strained silence for long minutes, until at last Jared told the empty air above them, “My momma says never go to bed angry with each other.”
Jensen started to retort I don’t give a fuck what your mom says, but even furious, he knew better than to badmouth Mrs. Padalecki, so he just rolled onto his side, letting the hostile line of his back do the talking.
Jared scooted closer, and Jensen felt warm breath on the back of his neck when Jared murmured, “Would it help if I apologized?”
That just galled him even harder because in his heart Jensen knew the whole argument was really his own damn fault to begin with, despite the fact that Jared had been more than willing to escalate to yelling and insults and slamming doors. Screw Jared for trying to be the bigger man.
It’s not like he and Jared hadn’t ever fought before. Hell, that one time in the second season they’d almost come to blows on set before Kim had taken them both by the scruffs of the neck and hauled them back to his trailer for Jaeger shots and reconciliation. And thinking about Kim just leavened anger with pain, making Jensen’s throat constrict and ache. He clenched both fists to keep himself from burying his face in his hands.
Fighting with Jared was different now that they were… whatever they were. Before, it was risk-free; their friendship so solid it could withstand nuclear war. This new thing they had, though, to Jensen it felt so precious and precarious, one incautious blow would shatter it to pieces. So if they weren’t going to make it, Jensen needed to know right fucking now, before he got drawn any deeper, before he got lost so far inside being with Jared that he couldn’t find his way out again.
More minutes ticked by, until finally, “Jensen.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. Low and flat, it was the voice Jared used when he was dead serious. It demanded some response, so Jensen twisted and stared at a point just over Jared’s left shoulder, making sure to keep his expression shuttered and invulnerable.
“It’s not worth it,” Jared said, and Jensen felt the tension flood out of his muscles, both nauseous and bitterly relieved that Jared was finally going to end it.
Jared continued, “Whatever we’re fighting about, it’s not worth it to me. You tell me how to make this right with you, and I’ll do it. Whatever it takes, just tell me. Because I-- I can’t…” He trailed off, waving a hand vaguely between them then flopping back down on the pillow, eyes squeezed shut.
Jensen flipped all the way around to stare down at him, the earnest sorrow etched on Jared’s brow and all around his mouth clawing at Jensen’s heart so hard he wanted to rip it out of his chest. For several long seconds Jensen was really, really tempted to go ahead and call it quits, turn away, retreat back to all those safe relationships of the past where he wasn’t exposed and desperate and unmoored all the time.
Then he leaned down and pressed his forehead to the center of Jared’s chest. “I’m an idiot,” Jensen mumbled into the thin fabric of the t-shirt.
He felt Jared tentatively place a hand on his shoulder. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I’m a complete idiot.”
“Okay. You are.”
Jensen snorted. He could hear the beginnings of a smile in Jared’s voice as he replied, “What? I’m done fighting with you ever again!”
He found that he couldn’t emerge from where he was hiding in Jared’s shirt-he maybe, possibly was struggling to hold back a couple of tears of relief-- but he let Jared haul him around by the arm until they fit, legs and hips and chests aligned.
Again they lay in silence for a bit, but it was less silent, more simply quiet. With a few words it was that easily transmuted.
Once again it was Jared who broke in, “So, I’m thinking about the makeup sex… Too soon?”
Jensen looked up, straight into Jared’s bright eyes. “Nah. Can’t argue with that.”
Author: deirdre_c
Fandom/Rating: J2, PG-13
Word Count: ~850
Summary: Fighting with Jared was different now.
Author's Note: A wee gift written for the most wonderful destina on her birthday.
It was late and their shouting match was over two hours old and Jensen found himself in the first floor bedroom he hadn’t slept in since January, arms crossed over his chest, staring at the ceiling.
He heard the doorknob turn and shut his eyes, then realized he couldn’t convincingly be asleep in this particular position.
“Fuck off, Jared.”
“No.” It was calm and certain and pissed Jensen off even more.
Jensen felt the mattress dip. “I said: Fuck. Off.”
Fuming, he waited for Jared to try to embrace him, cajole him, but Jared simply lay down on his back, mirroring Jensen’s position, not even looking at him.
“No.”
As long as he’d known Jared, it seemed like shit just beaded up and rolled off of him, but Jensen, well, he liked to cling to his anger, hoard it in a big, solid ball roiling through the acid in his gut. Two hours was nowhere near long enough. Jensen figured on at least two days or maybe two goddamned weeks.
So they sat there in strained silence for long minutes, until at last Jared told the empty air above them, “My momma says never go to bed angry with each other.”
Jensen started to retort I don’t give a fuck what your mom says, but even furious, he knew better than to badmouth Mrs. Padalecki, so he just rolled onto his side, letting the hostile line of his back do the talking.
Jared scooted closer, and Jensen felt warm breath on the back of his neck when Jared murmured, “Would it help if I apologized?”
That just galled him even harder because in his heart Jensen knew the whole argument was really his own damn fault to begin with, despite the fact that Jared had been more than willing to escalate to yelling and insults and slamming doors. Screw Jared for trying to be the bigger man.
It’s not like he and Jared hadn’t ever fought before. Hell, that one time in the second season they’d almost come to blows on set before Kim had taken them both by the scruffs of the neck and hauled them back to his trailer for Jaeger shots and reconciliation. And thinking about Kim just leavened anger with pain, making Jensen’s throat constrict and ache. He clenched both fists to keep himself from burying his face in his hands.
Fighting with Jared was different now that they were… whatever they were. Before, it was risk-free; their friendship so solid it could withstand nuclear war. This new thing they had, though, to Jensen it felt so precious and precarious, one incautious blow would shatter it to pieces. So if they weren’t going to make it, Jensen needed to know right fucking now, before he got drawn any deeper, before he got lost so far inside being with Jared that he couldn’t find his way out again.
More minutes ticked by, until finally, “Jensen.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. Low and flat, it was the voice Jared used when he was dead serious. It demanded some response, so Jensen twisted and stared at a point just over Jared’s left shoulder, making sure to keep his expression shuttered and invulnerable.
“It’s not worth it,” Jared said, and Jensen felt the tension flood out of his muscles, both nauseous and bitterly relieved that Jared was finally going to end it.
Jared continued, “Whatever we’re fighting about, it’s not worth it to me. You tell me how to make this right with you, and I’ll do it. Whatever it takes, just tell me. Because I-- I can’t…” He trailed off, waving a hand vaguely between them then flopping back down on the pillow, eyes squeezed shut.
Jensen flipped all the way around to stare down at him, the earnest sorrow etched on Jared’s brow and all around his mouth clawing at Jensen’s heart so hard he wanted to rip it out of his chest. For several long seconds Jensen was really, really tempted to go ahead and call it quits, turn away, retreat back to all those safe relationships of the past where he wasn’t exposed and desperate and unmoored all the time.
Then he leaned down and pressed his forehead to the center of Jared’s chest. “I’m an idiot,” Jensen mumbled into the thin fabric of the t-shirt.
He felt Jared tentatively place a hand on his shoulder. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I’m a complete idiot.”
“Okay. You are.”
Jensen snorted. He could hear the beginnings of a smile in Jared’s voice as he replied, “What? I’m done fighting with you ever again!”
He found that he couldn’t emerge from where he was hiding in Jared’s shirt-he maybe, possibly was struggling to hold back a couple of tears of relief-- but he let Jared haul him around by the arm until they fit, legs and hips and chests aligned.
Again they lay in silence for a bit, but it was less silent, more simply quiet. With a few words it was that easily transmuted.
Once again it was Jared who broke in, “So, I’m thinking about the makeup sex… Too soon?”
Jensen looked up, straight into Jared’s bright eyes. “Nah. Can’t argue with that.”