Halloween Oreos (Sequel to Oreos)
So, I partially made this a sequel so I could count it for another prompt. Shh! It's not cheating!
I srsly did think they were better separate, though. Srsly.
Title: Halloween Oreos (Sequel to Oreos)
Fandom: RPS
Characters: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki
Prompt: 012. Orange.
fanfic100 table: here
Word Count: 444
Rating: R
Warnings: Language?
Summary: Jared tries to make up for ruining Jensen's Oreos. And fails. Sort of.
Author's Notes: I don't even know. Just...something about this made me laugh. I don't know why.
Jared walks into the house and dumps the bag of Oreos on the dining room table. Jensen follows him and stares down at the bag. He stares. And then he lifts the Oreos up in his hand and looks at Jared, narrowing his eyes.
“What the hell is this?”
“Oreos,” Jared says, shrugging. Jensen looks at the Oreos and back at Jared. “Is there a problem?”
“These aren’t the right kind.”
“They’re Halloween Oreos,” Jared says, emphasizing the word and taking his time saying it, as if Jensen’s a special brand of slow.
“Exactly,” Jensen says, dropping them back on the table. “They’re…wrong.”
“What?” Jared’s starting to get pissed now. “What’s wrong with them?” Jensen shrugs and makes a face.
“They always taste so…orange.”
“Are you high?” Jared asks, laughing incredulously. “Things can’t taste orange, Jen! It’s just not possible! Colors don’t have flavors.”
“Yeah, but still,” Jensen says, making a face again, as if just the thought of Oreos filled with orange cream is gross. “It’s like when they made the green ketchup. You remember that? It tasted green.”
Jared’s fuming. He doesn’t even bother to continue the conversation/argument/whatever. He grabs the bag of Oreos, tosses them to the floor, lifts his foot, and stomps on them. Twice. Maybe three times. And when he looks back at Jensen, Jensen’s looking down at the crushed Oreos on the floor in a bit of shock.
“I so didn’t see that coming.”
“Fuck you,” Jared spits, pointing a finger in Jensen’s face. Jensen leans away from it, bewildered. “You wanted Oreos, I went out and got ‘em! You think they’re shitty? Fine. I did my part. You want any more, you go out and get ‘em yourself!”
With that he stomps away, back into the living room, flopping on the couch and losing himself in the television again. A few minutes later, Jensen comes in and sits down next to him. Close. And Jared almost huffs and moves away, scooting further down the couch, but he hears something. Crunching. Jensen’s crunching.
“You know, these actually aren’t that bad.”
Jared turns his head so quickly, he’s sure he just got whiplash. Jensen’s sitting there looking at him and…chewing.
“You’re eating those??” And Jared really can’t believe it, because…fuck. He just stomped on those.
“The bag wasn’t ripped,” Jensen answers, shrugging and lifting a handful of Oreo bits to his mouth, dropping them in. “’ill ’ood,” he says with his mouth full, and Jared’s mouth just hangs open, about ready to question Jensen’s sanity, when Jensen swallows and smiles, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “Thanks.”
“Yeah…” Jared murmurs before remembering himself and squeezing back. “You’re welcome.”
I srsly did think they were better separate, though. Srsly.
Title: Halloween Oreos (Sequel to Oreos)
Fandom: RPS
Characters: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki
Prompt: 012. Orange.
fanfic100 table: here
Word Count: 444
Rating: R
Warnings: Language?
Summary: Jared tries to make up for ruining Jensen's Oreos. And fails. Sort of.
Author's Notes: I don't even know. Just...something about this made me laugh. I don't know why.
Jared walks into the house and dumps the bag of Oreos on the dining room table. Jensen follows him and stares down at the bag. He stares. And then he lifts the Oreos up in his hand and looks at Jared, narrowing his eyes.
“What the hell is this?”
“Oreos,” Jared says, shrugging. Jensen looks at the Oreos and back at Jared. “Is there a problem?”
“These aren’t the right kind.”
“They’re Halloween Oreos,” Jared says, emphasizing the word and taking his time saying it, as if Jensen’s a special brand of slow.
“Exactly,” Jensen says, dropping them back on the table. “They’re…wrong.”
“What?” Jared’s starting to get pissed now. “What’s wrong with them?” Jensen shrugs and makes a face.
“They always taste so…orange.”
“Are you high?” Jared asks, laughing incredulously. “Things can’t taste orange, Jen! It’s just not possible! Colors don’t have flavors.”
“Yeah, but still,” Jensen says, making a face again, as if just the thought of Oreos filled with orange cream is gross. “It’s like when they made the green ketchup. You remember that? It tasted green.”
Jared’s fuming. He doesn’t even bother to continue the conversation/argument/whatever. He grabs the bag of Oreos, tosses them to the floor, lifts his foot, and stomps on them. Twice. Maybe three times. And when he looks back at Jensen, Jensen’s looking down at the crushed Oreos on the floor in a bit of shock.
“I so didn’t see that coming.”
“Fuck you,” Jared spits, pointing a finger in Jensen’s face. Jensen leans away from it, bewildered. “You wanted Oreos, I went out and got ‘em! You think they’re shitty? Fine. I did my part. You want any more, you go out and get ‘em yourself!”
With that he stomps away, back into the living room, flopping on the couch and losing himself in the television again. A few minutes later, Jensen comes in and sits down next to him. Close. And Jared almost huffs and moves away, scooting further down the couch, but he hears something. Crunching. Jensen’s crunching.
“You know, these actually aren’t that bad.”
Jared turns his head so quickly, he’s sure he just got whiplash. Jensen’s sitting there looking at him and…chewing.
“You’re eating those??” And Jared really can’t believe it, because…fuck. He just stomped on those.
“The bag wasn’t ripped,” Jensen answers, shrugging and lifting a handful of Oreo bits to his mouth, dropping them in. “’ill ’ood,” he says with his mouth full, and Jared’s mouth just hangs open, about ready to question Jensen’s sanity, when Jensen swallows and smiles, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “Thanks.”
“Yeah…” Jared murmurs before remembering himself and squeezing back. “You’re welcome.”