fic: Donut Moose
title: Donut Moose
words: 700w
pairing: J2
prompt: Jared is himself and so is Jensen. A moose eats the donut.
warning: for a rimming joke in poor taste? Not even a sensical joke, just kind of :| Anyway, let this be a scavenger hunt for you. Also, I can't believe I wrote this. Ha!
a/n: written for the blindfold-spn prompt here.
They're on set, a hundred people adjusting equipment and three actors on break. There's slush in gutters and ice built up around every trailer wheel. Breath comes out in mist. Jensen is cutting a quick getaway to makeup to have the orange removed from his face so he can go eat lunch without getting concealer in his mouth.
But then, there's a static hiss and he sidesteps behind a copy of the Impala. He pulls out the set walkie and raises it to his ear, looking around.
Misha's voice comes through. "Ten four, ten four."
"Behind horse three," Jensen whispers. "Where's moose?"
"Moose is on the prowl. I repeat, moose is on the prowl."
"Fuck!" Jensen had eaten Jared's donut right out of the hands of his PA a few minutes ago, and had been hoping to hide for the rest of the day. He peers over the car, but doesn't see anyone. "Moose was supposed to end shot at noon, not eleven-thirty!"
"Never underestimate-"
There's a faint zipping noise, like wheels over wet ground, and Jensen crouches low. He breathes into the walkie, "I think he's here."
Then, he winds down the volume and waits. The zip gets closer and it's accompagnied by the quiet hum of an engine. Caught up in the adrenaline of hide-and-go-seek that means your ass on the line, Jensen flattens himself to the ground and crawls under the Impala. Fuck dignity, he chooses safety.
He waits there until the sound recedes, his chest heaving against the cold asphalt, craning his neck to peer through the wheels. Everything is silent except the babble of the crew in the far off distance. No one is outside.
Then, the hum becomes louder again, and he can see Jared only from the knee down, riding by on one of the ATVs.
Jensen holds his breath until it feels like fire. His heart pumps in his head. The ATV disappears again, zooming off, and then it's silent.
He doesn't wait around for Jared to get back. Instead, he scoots out in an undignified manner, bits of dirt and snow smearing into the front of Dean's shirt, and when he's up, he takes a deep breath and sprints back to the line of trailers.
"Come on, come on," he mutters.
He throws the walkie away because it's extra weight. He makes it to his trailer and is up the steps, door thrown open, almost in the clear, when he is tackled from behind.
"Mother-"
He lands in a sprawl with five hundred pounds of warm body on top of him. He wrestles around onto his back so he is at least facing Jared. Jared is a tangle of limbs. He kicks the door closed and then grabs Jensen's jeans and tugs them down.
"You think you're good, huh?" he breathes in Jensen's face. "Saw you under the Impala, ass out."
"It was just a chocolate twist," Jensen argues. "Fifty cents or something, you eat mine all the time! Augh-!"
He makes a show of struggling, kneeing Jared in the side, but gets his boots off so his pants won't get stuck around them. A thrill goes through his whole body and Jared pushes a hand up his shirt all the way to his neck where he thumbs his adam's apple before kissing it and says, "Stay."
Jensen goes up on elbows to watch Jared kiss his dick through his boxer-briefs.
He makes a cut off noise that's something between "please," and "you're so predictable" and Jared smirks before saying "turn over, double-oh seven."
Jensen does. He moans as Jared pushes his shirt up to kiss along his spine and then urges him up on his knees. He grabs his ass, and Jensen is out of his mind, face hot, hands roughed up.
"The moose eats the donut," Jared says, a smirk in his voice. "I repeat, the moose eats the donut."
It's way hotter than it should ever be, and Jensen moans and cants his hips back so Jared can put his mouth where his money is.
words: 700w
pairing: J2
prompt: Jared is himself and so is Jensen. A moose eats the donut.
warning: for a rimming joke in poor taste? Not even a sensical joke, just kind of :| Anyway, let this be a scavenger hunt for you. Also, I can't believe I wrote this. Ha!
a/n: written for the blindfold-spn prompt here.
They're on set, a hundred people adjusting equipment and three actors on break. There's slush in gutters and ice built up around every trailer wheel. Breath comes out in mist. Jensen is cutting a quick getaway to makeup to have the orange removed from his face so he can go eat lunch without getting concealer in his mouth.
But then, there's a static hiss and he sidesteps behind a copy of the Impala. He pulls out the set walkie and raises it to his ear, looking around.
Misha's voice comes through. "Ten four, ten four."
"Behind horse three," Jensen whispers. "Where's moose?"
"Moose is on the prowl. I repeat, moose is on the prowl."
"Fuck!" Jensen had eaten Jared's donut right out of the hands of his PA a few minutes ago, and had been hoping to hide for the rest of the day. He peers over the car, but doesn't see anyone. "Moose was supposed to end shot at noon, not eleven-thirty!"
"Never underestimate-"
There's a faint zipping noise, like wheels over wet ground, and Jensen crouches low. He breathes into the walkie, "I think he's here."
Then, he winds down the volume and waits. The zip gets closer and it's accompagnied by the quiet hum of an engine. Caught up in the adrenaline of hide-and-go-seek that means your ass on the line, Jensen flattens himself to the ground and crawls under the Impala. Fuck dignity, he chooses safety.
He waits there until the sound recedes, his chest heaving against the cold asphalt, craning his neck to peer through the wheels. Everything is silent except the babble of the crew in the far off distance. No one is outside.
Then, the hum becomes louder again, and he can see Jared only from the knee down, riding by on one of the ATVs.
Jensen holds his breath until it feels like fire. His heart pumps in his head. The ATV disappears again, zooming off, and then it's silent.
He doesn't wait around for Jared to get back. Instead, he scoots out in an undignified manner, bits of dirt and snow smearing into the front of Dean's shirt, and when he's up, he takes a deep breath and sprints back to the line of trailers.
"Come on, come on," he mutters.
He throws the walkie away because it's extra weight. He makes it to his trailer and is up the steps, door thrown open, almost in the clear, when he is tackled from behind.
"Mother-"
He lands in a sprawl with five hundred pounds of warm body on top of him. He wrestles around onto his back so he is at least facing Jared. Jared is a tangle of limbs. He kicks the door closed and then grabs Jensen's jeans and tugs them down.
"You think you're good, huh?" he breathes in Jensen's face. "Saw you under the Impala, ass out."
"It was just a chocolate twist," Jensen argues. "Fifty cents or something, you eat mine all the time! Augh-!"
He makes a show of struggling, kneeing Jared in the side, but gets his boots off so his pants won't get stuck around them. A thrill goes through his whole body and Jared pushes a hand up his shirt all the way to his neck where he thumbs his adam's apple before kissing it and says, "Stay."
Jensen goes up on elbows to watch Jared kiss his dick through his boxer-briefs.
He makes a cut off noise that's something between "please," and "you're so predictable" and Jared smirks before saying "turn over, double-oh seven."
Jensen does. He moans as Jared pushes his shirt up to kiss along his spine and then urges him up on his knees. He grabs his ass, and Jensen is out of his mind, face hot, hands roughed up.
"The moose eats the donut," Jared says, a smirk in his voice. "I repeat, the moose eats the donut."
It's way hotter than it should ever be, and Jensen moans and cants his hips back so Jared can put his mouth where his money is.