(no subject)
Title: The clouds that hang on you
Fandom: RPS
Rating: G
Charater(s)/Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Summary: It's been a long day.
Warnings: Schmoop, can't help it.
Word Count: ~700
Jensen, he’s a rock. A soft, warm rock beneath Jared’s hands, but he’s a rock nonetheless. Whenever someone has a problem, a complaint, anything that comes up while they are talking to Jensen, Jensen has an optimistic, insightful comment, the other person goes quiet for a few seconds thinking about it before their face lights up and they nod.
Jensen is always like that. Always. Jared knows, because he likes to watch and listen when Jensen talks to other people; whether it’s with the girls during make up, with anyone else from the crew during lunch, or just some random guy in a bar.
It’s sort of amazing, to Jared at the very least, how Jensen is always understanding, has the perfect answer just waiting behind those even more perfect lips, and never a bad word for anyone or about anything. Jared’s pretty sure that, even when someone would stick Jensen in the worst sitcom of the planet, with a nice set of despicable co-stars and Jensen would hate every single one of them? When someone would bring it up, Jen would smile that disarming smile and say that it was a great experience, one to grow by.
Jared doesn’t know how he does it, how Jensen makes it all look so smooth while Jared’s sure he would stumble over the words if he even as much as tried.
Yet, as much as he loves watching that smooth, rock hard, one-up-on-the-world Jensen, there’s something he loves even more, and that’s the Jensen who doesn’t have a perfect answer awaiting, the disheveled Jensen who worries his lower lip between his teeth and furrows his brows when he thinks about something or other someone told him that day, that Jensen who isn’t hard as a rock anymore, but instead one big puzzle with the pieces asked.
That Jensen, Jared sometimes finds him when he comes home from a walk with Harley and Sadie or from a trip to the store, when Jensen’s curled up on the couch with his glasses too low on his nose to actually do him any good, with his legs folded beneath him and a book propped up in his lap. Eyes unmoving and staring at some spot just past the book, Jared knows it’s one of those days, one of those when some pieces of the puzzle are plain missing.
Jensen doesn’t even realize that Jared comes in, whose expression softens the instant he sees his boyfriend curled up on the couch like that. Quietly shuffling out of his sneakers, Jared takes the few steps to cross through the living room over to the couch and stops right in front of Jensen’s spot on the couch. It takes a few seconds for the older man to register that there’s a shadow hovering over him before he looks up, a tired smile on his lips.
“Hey.” He sounds about as tired as he looks, and Jared can’t help but smile; he loves seeing Jensen like that - not because that bemused Jensen is adorable and lovable in so many ways, no, because that’s his Jensen, the Jensen only Jared gets to see.
“Hey you.” Jared’s just as quiet, as if his voice might stir the world if he’s any louder, then flops down onto the couch next to him.
As Jen puts the book aside, Jared takes the cue to pull the glasses off of Jensen’s nose and pulls him into an embrace. And that Jensen rock, he just sinks into Jared’s arms, a soft sigh on his lips, crumbling into all those small pieces he so carefully put together for the day. The best part is, Jensen doesn’t mind at all that Jared sees, that Jared knows, and the world is simply alright, simply fine, there together on their sofa.
Jared, he never has those perfect words, but all it takes is one touch from him to put all those little pieces of that Jensen puzzle together. And someday, that he promises to himself, he’s going to glue all those little pieces together that they may never fall apart again, with himself right in the middle.
Fandom: RPS
Rating: G
Charater(s)/Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Summary: It's been a long day.
Warnings: Schmoop, can't help it.
Word Count: ~700
Jensen, he’s a rock. A soft, warm rock beneath Jared’s hands, but he’s a rock nonetheless. Whenever someone has a problem, a complaint, anything that comes up while they are talking to Jensen, Jensen has an optimistic, insightful comment, the other person goes quiet for a few seconds thinking about it before their face lights up and they nod.
Jensen is always like that. Always. Jared knows, because he likes to watch and listen when Jensen talks to other people; whether it’s with the girls during make up, with anyone else from the crew during lunch, or just some random guy in a bar.
It’s sort of amazing, to Jared at the very least, how Jensen is always understanding, has the perfect answer just waiting behind those even more perfect lips, and never a bad word for anyone or about anything. Jared’s pretty sure that, even when someone would stick Jensen in the worst sitcom of the planet, with a nice set of despicable co-stars and Jensen would hate every single one of them? When someone would bring it up, Jen would smile that disarming smile and say that it was a great experience, one to grow by.
Jared doesn’t know how he does it, how Jensen makes it all look so smooth while Jared’s sure he would stumble over the words if he even as much as tried.
Yet, as much as he loves watching that smooth, rock hard, one-up-on-the-world Jensen, there’s something he loves even more, and that’s the Jensen who doesn’t have a perfect answer awaiting, the disheveled Jensen who worries his lower lip between his teeth and furrows his brows when he thinks about something or other someone told him that day, that Jensen who isn’t hard as a rock anymore, but instead one big puzzle with the pieces asked.
That Jensen, Jared sometimes finds him when he comes home from a walk with Harley and Sadie or from a trip to the store, when Jensen’s curled up on the couch with his glasses too low on his nose to actually do him any good, with his legs folded beneath him and a book propped up in his lap. Eyes unmoving and staring at some spot just past the book, Jared knows it’s one of those days, one of those when some pieces of the puzzle are plain missing.
Jensen doesn’t even realize that Jared comes in, whose expression softens the instant he sees his boyfriend curled up on the couch like that. Quietly shuffling out of his sneakers, Jared takes the few steps to cross through the living room over to the couch and stops right in front of Jensen’s spot on the couch. It takes a few seconds for the older man to register that there’s a shadow hovering over him before he looks up, a tired smile on his lips.
“Hey.” He sounds about as tired as he looks, and Jared can’t help but smile; he loves seeing Jensen like that - not because that bemused Jensen is adorable and lovable in so many ways, no, because that’s his Jensen, the Jensen only Jared gets to see.
“Hey you.” Jared’s just as quiet, as if his voice might stir the world if he’s any louder, then flops down onto the couch next to him.
As Jen puts the book aside, Jared takes the cue to pull the glasses off of Jensen’s nose and pulls him into an embrace. And that Jensen rock, he just sinks into Jared’s arms, a soft sigh on his lips, crumbling into all those small pieces he so carefully put together for the day. The best part is, Jensen doesn’t mind at all that Jared sees, that Jared knows, and the world is simply alright, simply fine, there together on their sofa.
Jared, he never has those perfect words, but all it takes is one touch from him to put all those little pieces of that Jensen puzzle together. And someday, that he promises to himself, he’s going to glue all those little pieces together that they may never fall apart again, with himself right in the middle.