'nother icon fic
For auroraprimavera
Stress Relief
1,070 words; R for language
Jensen hands out another goofy headed stress ball and forces a smile. “Z103, man. All your favorite hits of yesterday, today, and tomorrow,” he recites from memory, but the words have lost their zeal as this is possibly the hundreth time he’s said them in an hour. Not to mention the hundred or so times Jessica has chanted it from beside him with a perky voice.
“Dude, awesome!” some frat guy grins. “You got any more?”
“One per, dude. Sorry,” he adds on. Except he really isn’t.
“Aww, man.” The guy frowns as he steps over to the next booth then shouts at a friend. “Red Bull! Hell yeah, dude.”
His buddy claps obnoxiously. “Awesome!”
Jensen sighs and hands out the next few stress balls with nothing but a strained smile. But then he hears a gleeful laugh in the booth next to his and he rolls his eyes. Though when he looks over to six-and-a-half feet of smooth skin barely trapping well-built muscle, his mouth opens for a few seconds. He shuts it before his tongue can drop out and salivate.
The guy’s back, shoulders, and arms stretch as he hands out as many free Red Bull cans as possible to the crowd growing in front of his table. He’s rambling on like he’s had a dozen or so of the energy drink himself and smiling with a wide, happy mouth and the whitest teeth Jensen’s seen in a long while.
“Z103,” Jensen murmurs with his eyes trained on the Red Bull booth as he hands over another stress ball. “All your favorites. Yesterday, today, tomorrow.”
“Awesome!” a teenaged girl shrieks.
Jensen rolls his eyes and calculates that it will take just one more declaration of awesome before he chokes himself.
“You got anything else back there?” she asks with a flirty smile.
Jensen looks up, confused as hell because his booth is boring and fairly empty aside from the logoed balls and the station’s banner hanging behind him. He turns in place a few times to assess the area then stares at her.
“Oh, okay,” she frowns and walks to the Red Bull booth.
When Jensen follows her to the next table, he’s a bit disappointed there is now a pair of barely dressed co-eds manning the table. They’re laughing and charming all the guys in the area as they pass cans with a smirk and a flip of their hair.
Jensen sighs and grabs another half dozen giveaways from the box below the table and stands upright, immediatley dropping them all and trying so hard to not hyperventilate.
“Hey,” the Red Bull guy smiles at him and nods. “You got any more?”
“Any more?” Jensen asks with a strained voice, keeping his words to a minimum so he doesn’t embarrass himself.
“Any more balls?”
Jensen chokes on his own spit and drops to a crouch to grab as many stress balls as he can then attempts to hand them all over. Except none of them make the transition from his grip to the guy’s hands.
There’s a wide grin and sparkling eyes aimed at him, and Jensen quietly whimpers. The guy closes his mouth, still smiling and quickly licking his top lip. “I’m Jared.”
“Z103.”
“Your name is Z103?”
Jensen grips a stress ball in each hand and prays they work as well as the marketing catalog had promised. “No, of course not.” He clears his throat then offers his hand to shake. “I’m Jensen.”
Jared removes the ball from Jensen’s right hand then shakes it. “Nice to finally meet you. Seen you here all morning.”
He swallows and nods while looking around the area. There are a few dozen other booths at the student orientation event and Jensen’s heart stutters at the idea that Jared had noticed him. Then he curses himself because they are right next to each other, of course Jared saw him.
“It’s a big event,” Jensen nods to the crowd all around them. “Looks like it’s going good.”
Jared laughs and puts the stress ball down to the table. “Yeah, I think we’ll run out before it’s over.” He leans over the table to peer at the other side of the table and spots one opened box two-thirds full and another three that haven’t been touched. “What’re you gonna do with all your balls?”
“Oh my God, you’re fucking with me,” Jensen blurts out.
Another laugh and Jared grabs the ball again, tossing it into the air and watching it rise and fall to his hand. “You know what these are good for?”
Jensen gulps.
Jared faces the crowd, looking across the mass of heads before he bites into his tongue and throws the stress ball across the way. It pegs another student worker in the head and Jared laughs while Jensen chokes on his own laugh. The other guy whips around and Jared waves as he murmurs, “Hate that fuckin’ guy.”
They share a smile and a chuckle, and Jensen goes up on tip toes to see the guy scowling back at them. “What’d he do?”
“He was my Freshman roommate. Would screw girls every night. With the lights on.”
Jensen stifles a laugh and finally eases into something like competence at conversation. “I’m guessing that’s not your thing?”
“Nah, it’s not,” Jared says with his head down at the table as he snatches a few more stress balls. “How much time you got left here?”
Jensen looks at Jessica, still eager and tossing out the giveaways from her own stash of boxes. “I can ditch out, I guess.”
“Cool, bring a box.”
Even as he hauls one up to the table for Jared to grab, he asks, “For what?”
“More target practice.”
“Awesome,” Jensen beams, not even caring that he’s now using the word himself.
“Right?”
He’s smiling for the next hour as he and Jared settle at the top of the quad steps and launch ball after ball at the unsuspecting crowd.
“Z103, huh?” Jared asks as he searches for his next target.
“You hear of it?”
“Yeah, my mom likes it,” Jared says with mock enthusiasm.
Jensen elbows Jared and fights a smile as he pathetically complains, “Shut up.”
“Ooh. Make me,” he challenges with all the bravado of a ten year old.
Without thinking, Jensen leans forward and kisses him. They each freeze and as Jensen pulls back, Jared yanks on his Jensen’s shirt to haul him back in.
Stress Relief
1,070 words; R for language
Jensen hands out another goofy headed stress ball and forces a smile. “Z103, man. All your favorite hits of yesterday, today, and tomorrow,” he recites from memory, but the words have lost their zeal as this is possibly the hundreth time he’s said them in an hour. Not to mention the hundred or so times Jessica has chanted it from beside him with a perky voice.
“Dude, awesome!” some frat guy grins. “You got any more?”
“One per, dude. Sorry,” he adds on. Except he really isn’t.
“Aww, man.” The guy frowns as he steps over to the next booth then shouts at a friend. “Red Bull! Hell yeah, dude.”
His buddy claps obnoxiously. “Awesome!”
Jensen sighs and hands out the next few stress balls with nothing but a strained smile. But then he hears a gleeful laugh in the booth next to his and he rolls his eyes. Though when he looks over to six-and-a-half feet of smooth skin barely trapping well-built muscle, his mouth opens for a few seconds. He shuts it before his tongue can drop out and salivate.
The guy’s back, shoulders, and arms stretch as he hands out as many free Red Bull cans as possible to the crowd growing in front of his table. He’s rambling on like he’s had a dozen or so of the energy drink himself and smiling with a wide, happy mouth and the whitest teeth Jensen’s seen in a long while.
“Z103,” Jensen murmurs with his eyes trained on the Red Bull booth as he hands over another stress ball. “All your favorites. Yesterday, today, tomorrow.”
“Awesome!” a teenaged girl shrieks.
Jensen rolls his eyes and calculates that it will take just one more declaration of awesome before he chokes himself.
“You got anything else back there?” she asks with a flirty smile.
Jensen looks up, confused as hell because his booth is boring and fairly empty aside from the logoed balls and the station’s banner hanging behind him. He turns in place a few times to assess the area then stares at her.
“Oh, okay,” she frowns and walks to the Red Bull booth.
When Jensen follows her to the next table, he’s a bit disappointed there is now a pair of barely dressed co-eds manning the table. They’re laughing and charming all the guys in the area as they pass cans with a smirk and a flip of their hair.
Jensen sighs and grabs another half dozen giveaways from the box below the table and stands upright, immediatley dropping them all and trying so hard to not hyperventilate.
“Hey,” the Red Bull guy smiles at him and nods. “You got any more?”
“Any more?” Jensen asks with a strained voice, keeping his words to a minimum so he doesn’t embarrass himself.
“Any more balls?”
Jensen chokes on his own spit and drops to a crouch to grab as many stress balls as he can then attempts to hand them all over. Except none of them make the transition from his grip to the guy’s hands.
There’s a wide grin and sparkling eyes aimed at him, and Jensen quietly whimpers. The guy closes his mouth, still smiling and quickly licking his top lip. “I’m Jared.”
“Z103.”
“Your name is Z103?”
Jensen grips a stress ball in each hand and prays they work as well as the marketing catalog had promised. “No, of course not.” He clears his throat then offers his hand to shake. “I’m Jensen.”
Jared removes the ball from Jensen’s right hand then shakes it. “Nice to finally meet you. Seen you here all morning.”
He swallows and nods while looking around the area. There are a few dozen other booths at the student orientation event and Jensen’s heart stutters at the idea that Jared had noticed him. Then he curses himself because they are right next to each other, of course Jared saw him.
“It’s a big event,” Jensen nods to the crowd all around them. “Looks like it’s going good.”
Jared laughs and puts the stress ball down to the table. “Yeah, I think we’ll run out before it’s over.” He leans over the table to peer at the other side of the table and spots one opened box two-thirds full and another three that haven’t been touched. “What’re you gonna do with all your balls?”
“Oh my God, you’re fucking with me,” Jensen blurts out.
Another laugh and Jared grabs the ball again, tossing it into the air and watching it rise and fall to his hand. “You know what these are good for?”
Jensen gulps.
Jared faces the crowd, looking across the mass of heads before he bites into his tongue and throws the stress ball across the way. It pegs another student worker in the head and Jared laughs while Jensen chokes on his own laugh. The other guy whips around and Jared waves as he murmurs, “Hate that fuckin’ guy.”
They share a smile and a chuckle, and Jensen goes up on tip toes to see the guy scowling back at them. “What’d he do?”
“He was my Freshman roommate. Would screw girls every night. With the lights on.”
Jensen stifles a laugh and finally eases into something like competence at conversation. “I’m guessing that’s not your thing?”
“Nah, it’s not,” Jared says with his head down at the table as he snatches a few more stress balls. “How much time you got left here?”
Jensen looks at Jessica, still eager and tossing out the giveaways from her own stash of boxes. “I can ditch out, I guess.”
“Cool, bring a box.”
Even as he hauls one up to the table for Jared to grab, he asks, “For what?”
“More target practice.”
“Awesome,” Jensen beams, not even caring that he’s now using the word himself.
“Right?”
He’s smiling for the next hour as he and Jared settle at the top of the quad steps and launch ball after ball at the unsuspecting crowd.
“Z103, huh?” Jared asks as he searches for his next target.
“You hear of it?”
“Yeah, my mom likes it,” Jared says with mock enthusiasm.
Jensen elbows Jared and fights a smile as he pathetically complains, “Shut up.”
“Ooh. Make me,” he challenges with all the bravado of a ten year old.
Without thinking, Jensen leans forward and kisses him. They each freeze and as Jensen pulls back, Jared yanks on his Jensen’s shirt to haul him back in.