Scented Memories
Title: Scented Memories
Fandom: RPS
Characters: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki
Prompt: 036. Smell.
fanfic100 table: here
Word Count: 1,844
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Smelly!Jared and schmoop. :P
Summary: Jared smells like dog, and Jensen hates it until he doesn't.
Disclaimer: It's all trufax. Except for the parts where it's not.
Author's Notes: Apparently I like writing about when these two first met/fell in love. And the dogs. And the title kind of bugs me, but it's all I can come up with right now...
He’d never tell Jared this, but one of the first things Jensen remembers about the first time they met is the smell. It wasn’t too strong then, and he couldn’t quite place it. He just remembers going to shake Jared’s hand and thinking, “What is that?” It wasn’t a bad smell, and it wasn’t bothersome. But it was enough to make Jensen wonder.
Of course, once the show was picked up and they’d moved to Vancouver, Jensen didn’t have to wonder anymore. When Jared came to set accompanied by 200 pounds of slobber and fur, Jensen knew exactly what that smell was.
Dog. Jared smelled like dog. It made sense when the guy didn’t go anywhere without his two pets and spent breaks wrestling on the ground with them.
Jensen himself hadn’t had any pets for quite some time, and it wasn’t that he didn’t like the dogs. He was growing to love them almost as much as Jared did. It was just that Jared’s love for them seemed to override his sense of smell. Jensen remembers the first time he visited Jared’s apartment in Vancouver, before he bought the house. Jared opened the door, and Jensen swore that Jared was using dog-scented Glade candles. The dog aroma drifted into every corner, dog toys strewn about the floor, and Sadie and Harley themselves relaxing on the furniture. Jensen went home smelling the way Jared did when they’d first met, and the first thing he did was take a shower.
It didn’t stop there. Jared brought the dog smell with him everywhere. Jensen noticed it the first time Jared ended up crashing on his couch. When Jared left the next morning and Jensen sat down to watch TV, it took him all of two seconds to jump back up off the cushion, the smell assaulting his nostrils. Febreze quickly became his best friend. So did cologne, although sometimes cologne only made things worse, the smell of it just layering over the lingering dog smell.
It wasn’t as if the dogs weren’t clean. Jensen knew Jared bathed them. He found that out the time he popped up at Jared’s place unexpectedly, a frustrated and shirtless Jared answering the door sopping wet, suds clinging to the ends of his hair, Harley running around the apartment leaving wet paw prints all over the carpet and just daring Jared to catch him. Jensen wasn’t even sure why the smell bothered him so much. It wasn’t quite so offensive, and nobody else seemed to mind it. Jensen could remember the days when he was a kid, back in Texas, and he lived for the smell of the stables. Other people, even adults, thought he was weird. Sure, it was all horse poop and hay, but there was something about it, something that he considered natural for a true Texan, that made him feel at home. It was animals and nature and country, and it put him at ease, just as much as a breathe of fresh air would anybody else. But, as much as Jensen hated to admit it, he must have left at least some of that Texan behind when he moved to LA. Suddenly, it was all about being clean and crisp, and Jared and his dogs were throwing a monkey wrench right into that setup.
That first summer, Jensen spent a lot of time at his house in LA. It was barely lived in since he’d begun filming Supernatural, and everything was pristine and in its rightful place. It was different. He wasn’t exactly living with Jared in Vancouver, but, with the hours they ended up spending together, he may as well have been. And, while Jared wasn’t a slob, he wasn’t exactly Martha Stewart. It had never bothered him before, but suddenly Jensen’s own house was too neat, too clean. He tried not putting everything right back where he’d found it seconds after he’d used it, not throwing out wrappers the second he’d unraveled them, and not making his bed as soon as he got up in the morning. But all that did was help him to drive himself crazy. It didn’t take him long to figure out that it wasn’t the mess that he missed. It was Jared’s habits. It was Jared.
But one thing he absolutely did not miss was the smell. He stood in the middle of his living room and took a deep breath, not at all disappointed by the lack of dog in his nostrils.
And he absolutely did not inhale deeply when he first returned to work and Jared wrapped him up in a hug, that familiar smell absolutely not comforting in a way that felt like home.
The smell was less pervasive when Jared bought the house. The dogs had a yard to run around in now, and there were more rooms and more space available for fresh air. It was still enough for Jensen to need a shower when he got back to his apartment, but he’d stopped doing that long ago. It took Jared to make him realize he’d stopped doing other things, too.
“Damn, I think I’ve been at your place too much,” Jared said one day while visiting, laughing and looking a bit apologetic. “Smells like Sadie and Harley live here, too. Must drive you nuts.”
Jensen laughed and agreed, but that didn’t change the fact that the Febreze had grown dusty where it rested in the cabinet in the bathroom, and the brand new bottle of cologne Jensen had bought months ago was still unopened.
He’d moved his things into Jared’s house after his apartment deal fell through and before he flew off to Pennsylvania to shoot My Bloody Valentine. Jared had offered, looking more hopeful and standing closer to Jensen than he should, and Jensen only gave token resistance before agreeing, something fluttering in his stomach at the idea of this meaning more than just a temporary stay with a buddy. They’d both left Vancouver before cementing anything other than their close friendship, but phone calls and texts were different, now. Things like, “I miss you,” and, “Can’t wait to get home,” were things Jensen had never said to his best friends before.
Busy? Jared texted him one day while he was on set in Pittsburgh.
Yes. Aren’t you, you fuckin slacker?
Not right now, asshole. Miss you.
You’ll see plenty of me at home.
You ready for all the paperwork?
Jensen paused, looking around set and taking a deep breath, nerves and anticipation making it hard to type out his next message: What paperwork?
There was a pause from the other end, now, and Jensen somehow knew that Jared was fidgeting just as much as he was, each of them wondering if this was going the way they both wanted it to.
We’ll need to sign some things if we’re gonna get you on the mortgage.
Jensen remembers the breath leaving him at that point, the words burning into his eyes as he continued to stare at them on the tiny screen of his phone, all the noise around him fading away. He froze, the only thing he could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and he must’ve taken long enough for Jared to worry, because the next text he got was just one word:
Sorry.
Just like that, sound came rushing back to him, people talking, telling him they’d be ready for him in just a minute, and he hit reply, heart still beating fast, color rising to his cheeks at the thought of leaving Jared anxious and depressed, his fingers moving quicker than his brain. He hit send, almost unaware of what he’d said, but he was pretty sure that it was, Don’t be. I’m ready for it. Can’t wait to come back. Miss you, too.
Jared was back in Vancouver before he was, and Jensen’s heart was racing as he used his new key on the front door of the house. He opened it to silence and almost panicked before swallowing against his dry throat and taking a deep breath. He did it again, inhaling deeply as he set his bags down on the floor, and his tensed muscles relaxed as the smell of dog drifted up through his nostrils.
“Jared?” he called out, walking further into the house. His breaths were measured out with each step he took, and each one was more familiar and soothing than the last. He finally reached the back door, noticing that it was unlocked, and he opened it up, two big bundles of fur suddenly charging him from the other side.
He laughed when they barreled into him, nearly knocking him over, tails wagging and tongues licking excitedly. And when he looked up and out into the yard, he caught sight of Jared standing in the grass, tennis ball in hand and a hesitant smile on his face. Jensen took his time and bent down to pat the dogs, letting them cover him in sloppy dog kisses, laughing more when Harley’s tail whacked him in the face, the fur tickling his nose. He stood up again, facing Jared, who hadn’t moved, and slowly walked out to him, the dogs trailing behind.
“Hey,” Jared said softly when Jensen got close, his smile faded, eyes wide.
“Hey,” Jensen said back, stepping closer. He reached up, his hand pausing for a second in midair, and pushed Jared’s unruly bangs away from his eyes, his fingers trailing down until his hand could wrap around the back of Jared’s neck, and he pressed down gently. Jared moved with the pressure, and Jensen heard Jared’s barely audible gasp, the slight puff of air heating his lips as they moved closer to Jared’s.
It wasn’t much at first, just the barest touch, and Jensen almost wasn’t sure if he’d even done it or imagined it when he pulled back a little to look at Jared and saw that Jared hadn’t moved or reacted at all, frozen in front of him.
“…Jay?” Jensen asked, his stomach twisting slightly at the thought that maybe he was wrong, and that maybe…
Jared closed the distance between them, capturing Jensen’s lips with his own, and Jensen tightened his grip on Jared’s neck, returning the kiss and flicking his tongue out to lick against Jared’s lips. Jared gasped again, lips parting, and Jensen pressed inside, tasting Jared, swirling their tongues together, Jared’s hands coming up to grip at Jensen’s shoulders as the tennis ball thudded on the ground next to them. Jared broke for air, breathing heavily, planting kisses on Jensen’s jaw, his neck.
“Live with me,” Jared whispered, his breath caressing Jensen’s ear just before he nipped at the lobe, and Jensen shivered, returning the favor and moving Jared’s shirt to kiss and suck at his neck, his shoulder. “Jensen, please, just…be with me.”
Jensen paused, moving over the material of Jared’s shirt and pressing his face against it, breathing deeply and once again inhaling that familiar scent of dog. He lifted his head, smiling, and kissed Jared again. He was home.
Fandom: RPS
Characters: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki
Prompt: 036. Smell.
fanfic100 table: here
Word Count: 1,844
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Smelly!Jared and schmoop. :P
Summary: Jared smells like dog, and Jensen hates it until he doesn't.
Disclaimer: It's all trufax. Except for the parts where it's not.
Author's Notes: Apparently I like writing about when these two first met/fell in love. And the dogs. And the title kind of bugs me, but it's all I can come up with right now...
He’d never tell Jared this, but one of the first things Jensen remembers about the first time they met is the smell. It wasn’t too strong then, and he couldn’t quite place it. He just remembers going to shake Jared’s hand and thinking, “What is that?” It wasn’t a bad smell, and it wasn’t bothersome. But it was enough to make Jensen wonder.
Of course, once the show was picked up and they’d moved to Vancouver, Jensen didn’t have to wonder anymore. When Jared came to set accompanied by 200 pounds of slobber and fur, Jensen knew exactly what that smell was.
Dog. Jared smelled like dog. It made sense when the guy didn’t go anywhere without his two pets and spent breaks wrestling on the ground with them.
Jensen himself hadn’t had any pets for quite some time, and it wasn’t that he didn’t like the dogs. He was growing to love them almost as much as Jared did. It was just that Jared’s love for them seemed to override his sense of smell. Jensen remembers the first time he visited Jared’s apartment in Vancouver, before he bought the house. Jared opened the door, and Jensen swore that Jared was using dog-scented Glade candles. The dog aroma drifted into every corner, dog toys strewn about the floor, and Sadie and Harley themselves relaxing on the furniture. Jensen went home smelling the way Jared did when they’d first met, and the first thing he did was take a shower.
It didn’t stop there. Jared brought the dog smell with him everywhere. Jensen noticed it the first time Jared ended up crashing on his couch. When Jared left the next morning and Jensen sat down to watch TV, it took him all of two seconds to jump back up off the cushion, the smell assaulting his nostrils. Febreze quickly became his best friend. So did cologne, although sometimes cologne only made things worse, the smell of it just layering over the lingering dog smell.
It wasn’t as if the dogs weren’t clean. Jensen knew Jared bathed them. He found that out the time he popped up at Jared’s place unexpectedly, a frustrated and shirtless Jared answering the door sopping wet, suds clinging to the ends of his hair, Harley running around the apartment leaving wet paw prints all over the carpet and just daring Jared to catch him. Jensen wasn’t even sure why the smell bothered him so much. It wasn’t quite so offensive, and nobody else seemed to mind it. Jensen could remember the days when he was a kid, back in Texas, and he lived for the smell of the stables. Other people, even adults, thought he was weird. Sure, it was all horse poop and hay, but there was something about it, something that he considered natural for a true Texan, that made him feel at home. It was animals and nature and country, and it put him at ease, just as much as a breathe of fresh air would anybody else. But, as much as Jensen hated to admit it, he must have left at least some of that Texan behind when he moved to LA. Suddenly, it was all about being clean and crisp, and Jared and his dogs were throwing a monkey wrench right into that setup.
That first summer, Jensen spent a lot of time at his house in LA. It was barely lived in since he’d begun filming Supernatural, and everything was pristine and in its rightful place. It was different. He wasn’t exactly living with Jared in Vancouver, but, with the hours they ended up spending together, he may as well have been. And, while Jared wasn’t a slob, he wasn’t exactly Martha Stewart. It had never bothered him before, but suddenly Jensen’s own house was too neat, too clean. He tried not putting everything right back where he’d found it seconds after he’d used it, not throwing out wrappers the second he’d unraveled them, and not making his bed as soon as he got up in the morning. But all that did was help him to drive himself crazy. It didn’t take him long to figure out that it wasn’t the mess that he missed. It was Jared’s habits. It was Jared.
But one thing he absolutely did not miss was the smell. He stood in the middle of his living room and took a deep breath, not at all disappointed by the lack of dog in his nostrils.
And he absolutely did not inhale deeply when he first returned to work and Jared wrapped him up in a hug, that familiar smell absolutely not comforting in a way that felt like home.
The smell was less pervasive when Jared bought the house. The dogs had a yard to run around in now, and there were more rooms and more space available for fresh air. It was still enough for Jensen to need a shower when he got back to his apartment, but he’d stopped doing that long ago. It took Jared to make him realize he’d stopped doing other things, too.
“Damn, I think I’ve been at your place too much,” Jared said one day while visiting, laughing and looking a bit apologetic. “Smells like Sadie and Harley live here, too. Must drive you nuts.”
Jensen laughed and agreed, but that didn’t change the fact that the Febreze had grown dusty where it rested in the cabinet in the bathroom, and the brand new bottle of cologne Jensen had bought months ago was still unopened.
He’d moved his things into Jared’s house after his apartment deal fell through and before he flew off to Pennsylvania to shoot My Bloody Valentine. Jared had offered, looking more hopeful and standing closer to Jensen than he should, and Jensen only gave token resistance before agreeing, something fluttering in his stomach at the idea of this meaning more than just a temporary stay with a buddy. They’d both left Vancouver before cementing anything other than their close friendship, but phone calls and texts were different, now. Things like, “I miss you,” and, “Can’t wait to get home,” were things Jensen had never said to his best friends before.
Busy? Jared texted him one day while he was on set in Pittsburgh.
Yes. Aren’t you, you fuckin slacker?
Not right now, asshole. Miss you.
You’ll see plenty of me at home.
You ready for all the paperwork?
Jensen paused, looking around set and taking a deep breath, nerves and anticipation making it hard to type out his next message: What paperwork?
There was a pause from the other end, now, and Jensen somehow knew that Jared was fidgeting just as much as he was, each of them wondering if this was going the way they both wanted it to.
We’ll need to sign some things if we’re gonna get you on the mortgage.
Jensen remembers the breath leaving him at that point, the words burning into his eyes as he continued to stare at them on the tiny screen of his phone, all the noise around him fading away. He froze, the only thing he could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and he must’ve taken long enough for Jared to worry, because the next text he got was just one word:
Sorry.
Just like that, sound came rushing back to him, people talking, telling him they’d be ready for him in just a minute, and he hit reply, heart still beating fast, color rising to his cheeks at the thought of leaving Jared anxious and depressed, his fingers moving quicker than his brain. He hit send, almost unaware of what he’d said, but he was pretty sure that it was, Don’t be. I’m ready for it. Can’t wait to come back. Miss you, too.
Jared was back in Vancouver before he was, and Jensen’s heart was racing as he used his new key on the front door of the house. He opened it to silence and almost panicked before swallowing against his dry throat and taking a deep breath. He did it again, inhaling deeply as he set his bags down on the floor, and his tensed muscles relaxed as the smell of dog drifted up through his nostrils.
“Jared?” he called out, walking further into the house. His breaths were measured out with each step he took, and each one was more familiar and soothing than the last. He finally reached the back door, noticing that it was unlocked, and he opened it up, two big bundles of fur suddenly charging him from the other side.
He laughed when they barreled into him, nearly knocking him over, tails wagging and tongues licking excitedly. And when he looked up and out into the yard, he caught sight of Jared standing in the grass, tennis ball in hand and a hesitant smile on his face. Jensen took his time and bent down to pat the dogs, letting them cover him in sloppy dog kisses, laughing more when Harley’s tail whacked him in the face, the fur tickling his nose. He stood up again, facing Jared, who hadn’t moved, and slowly walked out to him, the dogs trailing behind.
“Hey,” Jared said softly when Jensen got close, his smile faded, eyes wide.
“Hey,” Jensen said back, stepping closer. He reached up, his hand pausing for a second in midair, and pushed Jared’s unruly bangs away from his eyes, his fingers trailing down until his hand could wrap around the back of Jared’s neck, and he pressed down gently. Jared moved with the pressure, and Jensen heard Jared’s barely audible gasp, the slight puff of air heating his lips as they moved closer to Jared’s.
It wasn’t much at first, just the barest touch, and Jensen almost wasn’t sure if he’d even done it or imagined it when he pulled back a little to look at Jared and saw that Jared hadn’t moved or reacted at all, frozen in front of him.
“…Jay?” Jensen asked, his stomach twisting slightly at the thought that maybe he was wrong, and that maybe…
Jared closed the distance between them, capturing Jensen’s lips with his own, and Jensen tightened his grip on Jared’s neck, returning the kiss and flicking his tongue out to lick against Jared’s lips. Jared gasped again, lips parting, and Jensen pressed inside, tasting Jared, swirling their tongues together, Jared’s hands coming up to grip at Jensen’s shoulders as the tennis ball thudded on the ground next to them. Jared broke for air, breathing heavily, planting kisses on Jensen’s jaw, his neck.
“Live with me,” Jared whispered, his breath caressing Jensen’s ear just before he nipped at the lobe, and Jensen shivered, returning the favor and moving Jared’s shirt to kiss and suck at his neck, his shoulder. “Jensen, please, just…be with me.”
Jensen paused, moving over the material of Jared’s shirt and pressing his face against it, breathing deeply and once again inhaling that familiar scent of dog. He lifted his head, smiling, and kissed Jared again. He was home.