trainstamp!
Trainstamp: Jensen gets stuck in the rain. And then he's stuck on the train.
900 words
For the lovely big_heart_june from the timestamps post here ♥
It had been warm when Jensen headed into work this morning. But now? At five o’clock? It’s anything but. The sun slides behind puffy clouds and the sky’s rumbling as Jensen walks another block from his building.
With a loud slap, there’s an onslaught of water pellets, for how hard it’s raining. He’s now halfway to the station when the rain really hits him and he tries to hold his laptop bag up for cover, but it’s no use. He’s soaked to the core in seconds, no jacket to keep him warm or dry, umbrella left open in the corner of his office doing nothing but bringing bad luck.
He slips inside the station, clean tile floors slick from commuters shaking water off as they enter. With every misstep, he curses the day and this sudden storm. He’s finally grateful when he gets a seat on the train and can stretch his arms and legs out, ignoring the squelch of wet clothes dragging and hanging heavily.
Once the train starts moving, he sighs and slouches in his seat but then staggers forward when it comes to a sudden stop.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” he grumbles as he glances out the windows to utter darkness. The sky and this storm aren’t fully to blame; the train’s still inside the station, just a few hundred feet from the loading zone and now halted for God knows how long.
He sighs again and pulls his phone out, holding it up but it still shows a red X where there should be bars of service. He’s supposed to head to Jared’s straight from getting off the train, supposed to watch the game with a few of Jared’s friends. It’s supposed to be a good getting-to-know-you night, and at this moment, Jensen has no clue when he’ll get back, take the bus, and get to his place. And he just wants to fall into bed and yank the covers over his head until morning.
His phone grants him a temporary sliver or two of service even as the train stays put, and it’s enough to get a few texts in and out.
Train’s stalled. Surprise, surprise.
how long?
Hell if I know.
A few rounds are fired back and forth with Jensen complaining about the timing, about how awful the train system is at delays and keeping riders informed of the schedule, and why the hell did the system adjust it by two minutes when it’s constantly late by the dozens.
He rants well and good and Jared answers with a simple: :-\
Jensen sighs again, more in accepting his fate than in disgust, for once. He types out: Today is horrible. I got caught in the storm.
what storm??
It’s pouring like hell down here.
:-\
Jensen would normally grumble to Jared’s emoticons, usually does. But right now, he can perfectly picture Jared’s little mouth-tilt-frown bit and he smiles a little with the image.
A good hour later, he’s not home yet - though the train has left the station - and his phone has nearly lost its power and he’s already lost his patience, ending their exchange with: I’ll catch up when I can.
When the train pulls into his stop, he nearly stumbles down the stairs, weary and still damp, shoes squeaking with every step. And then he wants to fall to his knees and thank God because it’s even with the sun setting low at this late hour, there are clear skies in every direction.
And Jared’s parked in the turnaround, leaning casually against the passenger door.
“You’re here,” Jensen half-asks, half-declares as he nears Jared. A disbelieving smile finds its way on his tired face.
“I am here,” he replies.
There are a hundred people around them, and Jensen wouldn’t normally think much beyond slouching into the front seat and shutting his eyes. But he can’t help but stutter up to the car, drop his bag at his feet, and fall into Jared, letting his body slump into Jared’s no matter the guy’s surprised huff and light laugh. When Jared’s arms reach around and tug Jensen in closer, Jensen surprises himself with an easy smile, and twists his hands into the sides of Jared’s shirt.
Jared hums and strokes over Jensen’s tense back, rubbing between his shoulder blades.
“This never happened,” Jensen mumbles at Jared’s neck, and Jared laughs at him.
“It’s totally happening right now and everyone’s taking pictures,” Jared taunts.
Jensen doesn’t move, just says, “You’re lying. Or really cruel.”
“Maybe both.”
“Definitely both.” He finally pulls back, draws his arms away, and fixes himself to a more familiar feel - a little pulled in, tight and controlled.
“Feel better now?” Jared asks with a satisfied smile.
Jensen takes a moment to run his eyes over Jared, logging how smug he looks but letting it go. Because suddenly Jensen feels pretty satisfied himself. “Yeah, a little.”
“Yeah, a little,” he parrots back as he moves to the other side of the car.
“Only a little,” Jensen insists.
Once they’re seated and Jared’s getting the car into drive, Jared shoots him a sideways look and snorts. “Only a little,” he mumbles.
“Maybe it’ll be more when I get out of these clothes,” Jensen complains, pulling on the middle of his shirt and wincing at the slickness that makes him shiver.
“I certainly hope so,” Jared murmurs in return.
Jensen catches Jared’s tiny smirk and the slight blush over his cheeks, and he reaches over the console to pull Jared’s hand into his own, squeezing for warmth. “I’m sure you'll figure something out.”
900 words
For the lovely big_heart_june from the timestamps post here ♥
It had been warm when Jensen headed into work this morning. But now? At five o’clock? It’s anything but. The sun slides behind puffy clouds and the sky’s rumbling as Jensen walks another block from his building.
With a loud slap, there’s an onslaught of water pellets, for how hard it’s raining. He’s now halfway to the station when the rain really hits him and he tries to hold his laptop bag up for cover, but it’s no use. He’s soaked to the core in seconds, no jacket to keep him warm or dry, umbrella left open in the corner of his office doing nothing but bringing bad luck.
He slips inside the station, clean tile floors slick from commuters shaking water off as they enter. With every misstep, he curses the day and this sudden storm. He’s finally grateful when he gets a seat on the train and can stretch his arms and legs out, ignoring the squelch of wet clothes dragging and hanging heavily.
Once the train starts moving, he sighs and slouches in his seat but then staggers forward when it comes to a sudden stop.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” he grumbles as he glances out the windows to utter darkness. The sky and this storm aren’t fully to blame; the train’s still inside the station, just a few hundred feet from the loading zone and now halted for God knows how long.
He sighs again and pulls his phone out, holding it up but it still shows a red X where there should be bars of service. He’s supposed to head to Jared’s straight from getting off the train, supposed to watch the game with a few of Jared’s friends. It’s supposed to be a good getting-to-know-you night, and at this moment, Jensen has no clue when he’ll get back, take the bus, and get to his place. And he just wants to fall into bed and yank the covers over his head until morning.
His phone grants him a temporary sliver or two of service even as the train stays put, and it’s enough to get a few texts in and out.
Train’s stalled. Surprise, surprise.
how long?
Hell if I know.
A few rounds are fired back and forth with Jensen complaining about the timing, about how awful the train system is at delays and keeping riders informed of the schedule, and why the hell did the system adjust it by two minutes when it’s constantly late by the dozens.
He rants well and good and Jared answers with a simple: :-\
Jensen sighs again, more in accepting his fate than in disgust, for once. He types out: Today is horrible. I got caught in the storm.
what storm??
It’s pouring like hell down here.
:-\
Jensen would normally grumble to Jared’s emoticons, usually does. But right now, he can perfectly picture Jared’s little mouth-tilt-frown bit and he smiles a little with the image.
A good hour later, he’s not home yet - though the train has left the station - and his phone has nearly lost its power and he’s already lost his patience, ending their exchange with: I’ll catch up when I can.
When the train pulls into his stop, he nearly stumbles down the stairs, weary and still damp, shoes squeaking with every step. And then he wants to fall to his knees and thank God because it’s even with the sun setting low at this late hour, there are clear skies in every direction.
And Jared’s parked in the turnaround, leaning casually against the passenger door.
“You’re here,” Jensen half-asks, half-declares as he nears Jared. A disbelieving smile finds its way on his tired face.
“I am here,” he replies.
There are a hundred people around them, and Jensen wouldn’t normally think much beyond slouching into the front seat and shutting his eyes. But he can’t help but stutter up to the car, drop his bag at his feet, and fall into Jared, letting his body slump into Jared’s no matter the guy’s surprised huff and light laugh. When Jared’s arms reach around and tug Jensen in closer, Jensen surprises himself with an easy smile, and twists his hands into the sides of Jared’s shirt.
Jared hums and strokes over Jensen’s tense back, rubbing between his shoulder blades.
“This never happened,” Jensen mumbles at Jared’s neck, and Jared laughs at him.
“It’s totally happening right now and everyone’s taking pictures,” Jared taunts.
Jensen doesn’t move, just says, “You’re lying. Or really cruel.”
“Maybe both.”
“Definitely both.” He finally pulls back, draws his arms away, and fixes himself to a more familiar feel - a little pulled in, tight and controlled.
“Feel better now?” Jared asks with a satisfied smile.
Jensen takes a moment to run his eyes over Jared, logging how smug he looks but letting it go. Because suddenly Jensen feels pretty satisfied himself. “Yeah, a little.”
“Yeah, a little,” he parrots back as he moves to the other side of the car.
“Only a little,” Jensen insists.
Once they’re seated and Jared’s getting the car into drive, Jared shoots him a sideways look and snorts. “Only a little,” he mumbles.
“Maybe it’ll be more when I get out of these clothes,” Jensen complains, pulling on the middle of his shirt and wincing at the slickness that makes him shiver.
“I certainly hope so,” Jared murmurs in return.
Jensen catches Jared’s tiny smirk and the slight blush over his cheeks, and he reaches over the console to pull Jared’s hand into his own, squeezing for warmth. “I’m sure you'll figure something out.”