I, Me, Mine
Title: I, Me, Mine
Fandom: RPS
Characters/Pairings: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki
Prompt: 094. Independence.
fanfic100 table: here
Word Count: 1,338
Rating: R
Warnings: Boys in bed and the shower, and one F-bomb?
Summary: Jensen wants to be his own person again. Jared kind of prevents that.
Author's Notes: Because of this and this (1:15 on). :P
If there was one thing Jensen valued in his life, it was his independence. Sure, he lived for his family and friends, but he was also perfectly capable of standing strong on his own two feet. In the sort of industry where people ended up screwed up and screwed over from leaning on the wrong people, Jensen was happy that he was still able to simply trust himself, if he needed to.
Relationships weren’t necessarily a problem. Jensen was perfectly fine being romantically involved with someone. Then again, he’d never gotten to the point where it was this serious.
Jensen stood in the shower, staring at the tile in front of him. He hadn’t even noticed it at first, and that was a sign that something was really wrong with him. Apparently, he’d grown so accustomed to Jared’s presence that having 6’5 of Padalecki behind him in the shower didn’t even faze him…until now.
The thing was, Jared was always there. They’d still kept time to themselves in the beginning, but then they got closer, started sleeping and living together, and now…now this, with Jensen not even flinching when Jared slipped in halfway through Jensen’s shower and started cleaning himself up.
“Hey.” Jared’s voice sounded in his ear, and Jensen did flinch at the soapy hand that pressed down onto his shoulder and moved him slightly out of the way, Jared’s other arm reaching past him for the shampoo. “Thanks.”
Jensen shook his head, trying to snap out of it. It was okay, he could fix this. All he had to do was…was be more assertive, get his independence back. It couldn’t be that hard, could it?
****
Jensen sighed. Jared knew that sigh, knew what it meant, and it was reinforced by Jensen sitting back in his chair. Jared perked up when Jensen stopped hovering over the plate on the table and immediately reached out to grab it and slide it over, his stomach still rumbling, even if he’d already eaten his own lunch.
“Hey!” Jensen kicked at Jared’s shins under the table, and Jared flinched, pausing and looking up at him. “Did I say I was done with that?”
For a moment, Jared almost laughed out loud, because Jensen had to be joking. But the look on Jensen’s face said he wasn’t joking. There was no slight tick by the corner of Jensen’s mouth, no glint in his eye, no purposely overdone hard edge to his voice to add to the dry humor of a joke.
“Um…no?” Jared shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then let go of the plate and sat back, unsure of himself. “Did…you still want it?”
Jared watched as Jensen fidgeted, looking back and forth between the plate and Jared, then sighing again, this time in some sort of defeat that Jared didn’t understand.
“No,” Jensen said reluctantly. “I’m full.”
****
The thing about Jared was that he knew everything about Jensen. Jensen of course knew that, but he didn’t realize how much of an obstacle it would be when it came to his plan to be more assertive, independent, whatever. Jared knew when Jensen was tired enough to not mind having company in the shower, or when Jensen had piled too much food on his plate and wouldn’t be able to finish it. This meant, in effect, that Jared could walk all over Jensen at certain moments without Jensen even realizing it. It was work to notice it and to fight it. Nobody else walked in on another person’s shower or took another person’s food without asking. That was just Jared, and only when it came to Jensen.
What Jensen found most disturbing was that he’d even been walked all over out in public, in front of fans, at conventions. Of course, Jensen decided, it could have just been that he was too nice. He realized how it looked, and that it seemed like he was always catering to Jared. A prime example of that was Vancouver, 2009. Jared somehow managed to get gum all over his coffee lid and then lamented the loss of it. Apparently, without a lid, Jared wasn’t good with the “pour amount.” To Jensen’s credit, he did still make a face, shake his head, and poke fun at Jared for the incident. But he also gave up his own lid in an effort to replace Jared’s, eliciting a chorus of “Aww!” from the crowd.
Pre-Jared, Jensen was able to hold his own and let other people deal with their own damn problems. Post-Jared, Jensen was even giving up his own damn coffee lids. It was madness, and it had to stop.
In 2011, sitting on the stage in L.A., Jensen was just watching in amusement as Jared broke his chair. He made a joke out of it, smiled and gestured to the crowd with that air of, “This is why we can’t have nice things.” And then Jared tried out another chair, found it faulty, and looked at him.
Jared looked at him, right in the eyes, and said with all the hope of a child trying to get a window seat on his first train ride, “Hey, d’you wanna switch seats?”
For a split-second, Jensen told himself not to do it. He told himself to stand his ground, to remain seated in his own unbroken chair. He absolutely, positively was not going to switch seats with Jared.
Then, the split-second was over, and Jensen was looking at Jared, all hope and expectation, and Jensen forgot all about his resolution to be a more assertive, independent person. When he gave in, he saw this spark in Jared, this happy, excited flare of personality that made Jared’s eyes light up and made his own heart feel light.
****
Jared curled up behind Jensen and threw an arm over Jensen’s waist, warm and sweaty, still trying to catch his breath. He nuzzled and kissed the back of Jensen’s neck and smiled when Jensen turned around to face him. Jensen’s hand pushed sweaty hair back off of Jared’s face, and Jared closed his eyes, focusing on the slowing of his heartbeat to a more normal rhythm.
“You bastard.”
Jared’s eyes flew open. It wasn’t as if Jensen said it with any heat. He’d actually said it almost lovingly, a quiet whisper. But it was a phrase that didn’t usually come in that tone.
“What?”
“I called you a bastard,” Jensen said, tired, half-lidded eyes looking into Jared’s. “For ruining my life.”
Jared swallowed hard, his stomach beginning to twist itself into knots. “What?” he repeated, and it was the only word he could come up with.
Jensen smiled a little, that small, post-coitus smile that just curled the edges of his full, reddened lips and made him look like the most satisfied person alive. “You ruined me,” he said, pressing a kiss to Jared’s lips. “I used to be my own person. I used to stand on my own two feet. I’m a sappy ol’ pushover for you, and I can’t help it. I can’t live without it. What’d you do to me?”
Jared exhaled loudly, relieved. “God, you scared me,” he said, laughing and wrapping his arms around Jensen. “Don’t scare me like that. Especially not after sex. It’s kinda like eating and swimming. You have to wait 45 minutes, or something.”
“Sorry,” Jensen muttered, sighing and closing his eyes. “S’just my own little way of telling you I love you, that’s all.” He laughs a little. “I was trying to fight it. Trying to tell myself I’d be more independent, and I wouldn’t let you take my food, or my coffee lids, or my chair. It didn’t work.”
Jared pushed a leg through Jensen’s, tangling their bodies together and biting his bottom lip. “I…Do those things bother you? I didn’t think…”
“No,” Jensen answered, and Jared could tell from the wispy sound of Jensen’s voice that he was falling asleep. “I’m just a sucker for you. Bastard.”
Jared snorted and kissed Jensen’s forehead. “You’re such a fuckin’ weirdo.”
Fandom: RPS
Characters/Pairings: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki
Prompt: 094. Independence.
fanfic100 table: here
Word Count: 1,338
Rating: R
Warnings: Boys in bed and the shower, and one F-bomb?
Summary: Jensen wants to be his own person again. Jared kind of prevents that.
Author's Notes: Because of this and this (1:15 on). :P
If there was one thing Jensen valued in his life, it was his independence. Sure, he lived for his family and friends, but he was also perfectly capable of standing strong on his own two feet. In the sort of industry where people ended up screwed up and screwed over from leaning on the wrong people, Jensen was happy that he was still able to simply trust himself, if he needed to.
Relationships weren’t necessarily a problem. Jensen was perfectly fine being romantically involved with someone. Then again, he’d never gotten to the point where it was this serious.
Jensen stood in the shower, staring at the tile in front of him. He hadn’t even noticed it at first, and that was a sign that something was really wrong with him. Apparently, he’d grown so accustomed to Jared’s presence that having 6’5 of Padalecki behind him in the shower didn’t even faze him…until now.
The thing was, Jared was always there. They’d still kept time to themselves in the beginning, but then they got closer, started sleeping and living together, and now…now this, with Jensen not even flinching when Jared slipped in halfway through Jensen’s shower and started cleaning himself up.
“Hey.” Jared’s voice sounded in his ear, and Jensen did flinch at the soapy hand that pressed down onto his shoulder and moved him slightly out of the way, Jared’s other arm reaching past him for the shampoo. “Thanks.”
Jensen shook his head, trying to snap out of it. It was okay, he could fix this. All he had to do was…was be more assertive, get his independence back. It couldn’t be that hard, could it?
****
Jensen sighed. Jared knew that sigh, knew what it meant, and it was reinforced by Jensen sitting back in his chair. Jared perked up when Jensen stopped hovering over the plate on the table and immediately reached out to grab it and slide it over, his stomach still rumbling, even if he’d already eaten his own lunch.
“Hey!” Jensen kicked at Jared’s shins under the table, and Jared flinched, pausing and looking up at him. “Did I say I was done with that?”
For a moment, Jared almost laughed out loud, because Jensen had to be joking. But the look on Jensen’s face said he wasn’t joking. There was no slight tick by the corner of Jensen’s mouth, no glint in his eye, no purposely overdone hard edge to his voice to add to the dry humor of a joke.
“Um…no?” Jared shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then let go of the plate and sat back, unsure of himself. “Did…you still want it?”
Jared watched as Jensen fidgeted, looking back and forth between the plate and Jared, then sighing again, this time in some sort of defeat that Jared didn’t understand.
“No,” Jensen said reluctantly. “I’m full.”
****
The thing about Jared was that he knew everything about Jensen. Jensen of course knew that, but he didn’t realize how much of an obstacle it would be when it came to his plan to be more assertive, independent, whatever. Jared knew when Jensen was tired enough to not mind having company in the shower, or when Jensen had piled too much food on his plate and wouldn’t be able to finish it. This meant, in effect, that Jared could walk all over Jensen at certain moments without Jensen even realizing it. It was work to notice it and to fight it. Nobody else walked in on another person’s shower or took another person’s food without asking. That was just Jared, and only when it came to Jensen.
What Jensen found most disturbing was that he’d even been walked all over out in public, in front of fans, at conventions. Of course, Jensen decided, it could have just been that he was too nice. He realized how it looked, and that it seemed like he was always catering to Jared. A prime example of that was Vancouver, 2009. Jared somehow managed to get gum all over his coffee lid and then lamented the loss of it. Apparently, without a lid, Jared wasn’t good with the “pour amount.” To Jensen’s credit, he did still make a face, shake his head, and poke fun at Jared for the incident. But he also gave up his own lid in an effort to replace Jared’s, eliciting a chorus of “Aww!” from the crowd.
Pre-Jared, Jensen was able to hold his own and let other people deal with their own damn problems. Post-Jared, Jensen was even giving up his own damn coffee lids. It was madness, and it had to stop.
In 2011, sitting on the stage in L.A., Jensen was just watching in amusement as Jared broke his chair. He made a joke out of it, smiled and gestured to the crowd with that air of, “This is why we can’t have nice things.” And then Jared tried out another chair, found it faulty, and looked at him.
Jared looked at him, right in the eyes, and said with all the hope of a child trying to get a window seat on his first train ride, “Hey, d’you wanna switch seats?”
For a split-second, Jensen told himself not to do it. He told himself to stand his ground, to remain seated in his own unbroken chair. He absolutely, positively was not going to switch seats with Jared.
Then, the split-second was over, and Jensen was looking at Jared, all hope and expectation, and Jensen forgot all about his resolution to be a more assertive, independent person. When he gave in, he saw this spark in Jared, this happy, excited flare of personality that made Jared’s eyes light up and made his own heart feel light.
****
Jared curled up behind Jensen and threw an arm over Jensen’s waist, warm and sweaty, still trying to catch his breath. He nuzzled and kissed the back of Jensen’s neck and smiled when Jensen turned around to face him. Jensen’s hand pushed sweaty hair back off of Jared’s face, and Jared closed his eyes, focusing on the slowing of his heartbeat to a more normal rhythm.
“You bastard.”
Jared’s eyes flew open. It wasn’t as if Jensen said it with any heat. He’d actually said it almost lovingly, a quiet whisper. But it was a phrase that didn’t usually come in that tone.
“What?”
“I called you a bastard,” Jensen said, tired, half-lidded eyes looking into Jared’s. “For ruining my life.”
Jared swallowed hard, his stomach beginning to twist itself into knots. “What?” he repeated, and it was the only word he could come up with.
Jensen smiled a little, that small, post-coitus smile that just curled the edges of his full, reddened lips and made him look like the most satisfied person alive. “You ruined me,” he said, pressing a kiss to Jared’s lips. “I used to be my own person. I used to stand on my own two feet. I’m a sappy ol’ pushover for you, and I can’t help it. I can’t live without it. What’d you do to me?”
Jared exhaled loudly, relieved. “God, you scared me,” he said, laughing and wrapping his arms around Jensen. “Don’t scare me like that. Especially not after sex. It’s kinda like eating and swimming. You have to wait 45 minutes, or something.”
“Sorry,” Jensen muttered, sighing and closing his eyes. “S’just my own little way of telling you I love you, that’s all.” He laughs a little. “I was trying to fight it. Trying to tell myself I’d be more independent, and I wouldn’t let you take my food, or my coffee lids, or my chair. It didn’t work.”
Jared pushed a leg through Jensen’s, tangling their bodies together and biting his bottom lip. “I…Do those things bother you? I didn’t think…”
“No,” Jensen answered, and Jared could tell from the wispy sound of Jensen’s voice that he was falling asleep. “I’m just a sucker for you. Bastard.”
Jared snorted and kissed Jensen’s forehead. “You’re such a fuckin’ weirdo.”