SPN Fic -- Second Jensen Interlude -- PG-13
Title: Second Jensen Interlude
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Summary: Another little Jensen-POV interlude in the Waiting 'Verse.
Word Count: 918
Notes: This is part of a much larger universe which you'll probably want to read first.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Part Four | Part Five | Part Six
Jensen Interlude
Wayfaring Sons
I Watch the Sun As it Comes Up, I Watch it As it Sets
Jensen likes to drink. Not to get drunk, not really, though he's not completely averse to getting hammered now and again. Mostly, he just likes a drink or two, something to take the edge off. Jensen has a really sharp edge.
He's already on meds, anti-depressants and anti-anxiety, and all of them have a warning about drinking on the label, so it doesn't take much to get him a good buzz. Two beers and he's pretty well toasted, which means that most times he ends up more than toasted because, well, two beers? You cannot go to a party and only have two beers.
"It's just," he says as Jared tugs him along towards the dorms. "I wish I was like you."
"You mean sober?" Jared asks. He's smiling and the moon is full and Jensen can see his white teeth and that freckle on his chin and the way his neck curves and disappears beneath his t-shirt.
Jensen's got Nick Drake's Northern Sky in his head, and it's a good song. It fits the night and the warm late-spring breeze and it fills his chest and makes him want to overflow because, God, Jared's so fucking beautiful. He puts his hand up to grip the back of Jared's neck, and he knows he's being clumsy but he can't, he has to kiss Jared right that second or he'll fall apart. Jared's mouth is soft against his; his hands are warm on Jensen's hips.
Nick Drake killed himself when he was 25 years old. Jensen doesn't want to do that, worries sometimes that it will happen without his control, that he'll do something stupid and only realize it too late. He worries about living, he worries about dying, sometimes it feels like his entire life is made of worries and fears.
Not Jared, though. Jared's honest and open and when he smiles he means it and he never second guesses and he never holds back. His love is like a tidal wave, hitting Jensen hard and consuming him, pulling him down; he couldn't fight it even if he wanted to.
"I wish I was like you," he says against Jared's mouth. "I wish I could talk to people like you do, enjoy the world the way you do."
"If you were just like me, sex would be like masturbation and that wouldn't be much fun. Some, but not much."
Jensen shakes his head. He knows Jared likes to tease but he's serious, he's being serious. "I'm being serious," he says, frustrated that he can't find the right words, and Jared kisses him and shushes him and strokes his hair.
"I know," Jared whispers. His hands stroke up and down Jensen's back and they're warm and strong and Jensen melts against him. Jared kisses Jensen's temple and whispers, "I like you as is."
He lets Jared muscle him through the parking lot and up to their room.
"You feel like you might puke?" Jared asks as he pulls Jensen's t-shirt off and kneels to unbutton his pants. "You want the bottom bunk?"
"I'm good," Jensen says, petting Jared's hair. It's very soft. Silky, even. It feels nice between his fingers.
"Up," says Jared, touching his right leg and Jensen reaches for the bed, holds on to the top bunk to steady himself as he lifts his right leg enough for Jared to pull his pants off. "Now this one," Jared says and Jensen takes a moment to put his right foot down, concentrates and lifts his left foot up and, ha. He's not that drunk. If he were drunk, that would have made him fall over.
"Didn't fall over," he tells Jared.
"I noticed. You want sweats?"
Jensen shakes his head, sits down on Jared's bunk in just his boxers and stretches out and, yeah, that's nice. The room's spinning a little bit so he reaches out to touch the wall.
"You wanna stay down here or sleep in your bed?" Jared asks, his fingers soft against Jensen's cheek.
"Spoons," Jensen says. He reaches one hand back and gestures to the empty space behind him. "You go here."
"You sure?"
"Mmm." He nods. Now that he's lying down he's really kind of tired. He's drifting but not asleep as Jared turns the lights off, then climbs in behind him. Jared's chest is warm against his back but it's not enough. He turns and curls up in Jared's arms, close as he can.
"What's up with you tonight, McSnugglepants?" Jared asks. His arms are strong, holding Jensen so tight.
"Miss you," Jensen whispers, because he will. He's going to. In just a few weeks they won't be together like this. Jared will be in San Antonio and Jensen will be back, God, with his parents. His parents, who are still ashamed of him despite all their love. His parents, who walk around him like they're on eggshells, like he's the eggshell, like any second he'll crack and try to kill himself again, or attack the postman and hold him down and suck his cock, and he doesn't know if he can take it.
"I'm right here," Jared says. He's rubbing slow circles into the skin of Jensen's back. Jensen sniffs and he doesn't even realize he's crying until he hears Jared say, "It's OK, Jen. Whatever it is, it's OK."
"You take good care of me," Jensen whispers.
"Yeah, well, fair's fair," Jared tells him, and Jensen falls asleep curled up in his arms, trying to figure out what that means.
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Summary: Another little Jensen-POV interlude in the Waiting 'Verse.
Word Count: 918
Notes: This is part of a much larger universe which you'll probably want to read first.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Part Four | Part Five | Part Six
Jensen Interlude
Wayfaring Sons
I Watch the Sun As it Comes Up, I Watch it As it Sets
Jensen likes to drink. Not to get drunk, not really, though he's not completely averse to getting hammered now and again. Mostly, he just likes a drink or two, something to take the edge off. Jensen has a really sharp edge.
He's already on meds, anti-depressants and anti-anxiety, and all of them have a warning about drinking on the label, so it doesn't take much to get him a good buzz. Two beers and he's pretty well toasted, which means that most times he ends up more than toasted because, well, two beers? You cannot go to a party and only have two beers.
"It's just," he says as Jared tugs him along towards the dorms. "I wish I was like you."
"You mean sober?" Jared asks. He's smiling and the moon is full and Jensen can see his white teeth and that freckle on his chin and the way his neck curves and disappears beneath his t-shirt.
Jensen's got Nick Drake's Northern Sky in his head, and it's a good song. It fits the night and the warm late-spring breeze and it fills his chest and makes him want to overflow because, God, Jared's so fucking beautiful. He puts his hand up to grip the back of Jared's neck, and he knows he's being clumsy but he can't, he has to kiss Jared right that second or he'll fall apart. Jared's mouth is soft against his; his hands are warm on Jensen's hips.
Nick Drake killed himself when he was 25 years old. Jensen doesn't want to do that, worries sometimes that it will happen without his control, that he'll do something stupid and only realize it too late. He worries about living, he worries about dying, sometimes it feels like his entire life is made of worries and fears.
Not Jared, though. Jared's honest and open and when he smiles he means it and he never second guesses and he never holds back. His love is like a tidal wave, hitting Jensen hard and consuming him, pulling him down; he couldn't fight it even if he wanted to.
"I wish I was like you," he says against Jared's mouth. "I wish I could talk to people like you do, enjoy the world the way you do."
"If you were just like me, sex would be like masturbation and that wouldn't be much fun. Some, but not much."
Jensen shakes his head. He knows Jared likes to tease but he's serious, he's being serious. "I'm being serious," he says, frustrated that he can't find the right words, and Jared kisses him and shushes him and strokes his hair.
"I know," Jared whispers. His hands stroke up and down Jensen's back and they're warm and strong and Jensen melts against him. Jared kisses Jensen's temple and whispers, "I like you as is."
He lets Jared muscle him through the parking lot and up to their room.
"You feel like you might puke?" Jared asks as he pulls Jensen's t-shirt off and kneels to unbutton his pants. "You want the bottom bunk?"
"I'm good," Jensen says, petting Jared's hair. It's very soft. Silky, even. It feels nice between his fingers.
"Up," says Jared, touching his right leg and Jensen reaches for the bed, holds on to the top bunk to steady himself as he lifts his right leg enough for Jared to pull his pants off. "Now this one," Jared says and Jensen takes a moment to put his right foot down, concentrates and lifts his left foot up and, ha. He's not that drunk. If he were drunk, that would have made him fall over.
"Didn't fall over," he tells Jared.
"I noticed. You want sweats?"
Jensen shakes his head, sits down on Jared's bunk in just his boxers and stretches out and, yeah, that's nice. The room's spinning a little bit so he reaches out to touch the wall.
"You wanna stay down here or sleep in your bed?" Jared asks, his fingers soft against Jensen's cheek.
"Spoons," Jensen says. He reaches one hand back and gestures to the empty space behind him. "You go here."
"You sure?"
"Mmm." He nods. Now that he's lying down he's really kind of tired. He's drifting but not asleep as Jared turns the lights off, then climbs in behind him. Jared's chest is warm against his back but it's not enough. He turns and curls up in Jared's arms, close as he can.
"What's up with you tonight, McSnugglepants?" Jared asks. His arms are strong, holding Jensen so tight.
"Miss you," Jensen whispers, because he will. He's going to. In just a few weeks they won't be together like this. Jared will be in San Antonio and Jensen will be back, God, with his parents. His parents, who are still ashamed of him despite all their love. His parents, who walk around him like they're on eggshells, like he's the eggshell, like any second he'll crack and try to kill himself again, or attack the postman and hold him down and suck his cock, and he doesn't know if he can take it.
"I'm right here," Jared says. He's rubbing slow circles into the skin of Jensen's back. Jensen sniffs and he doesn't even realize he's crying until he hears Jared say, "It's OK, Jen. Whatever it is, it's OK."
"You take good care of me," Jensen whispers.
"Yeah, well, fair's fair," Jared tells him, and Jensen falls asleep curled up in his arms, trying to figure out what that means.