J2 fic: Nineteenth Hole
Title: Nineteenth Hole
Word count: 1128
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary/prompt: Fic, bookworm!Jensen and Jared trying get his attention. Non-AU. For insmallpackages
He never should have done it. Seriously, he knew better, but he'd been persuaded by the expression he hoped he'd see on Jensen's face when he laid eyes on this baby.
When Jared found the special edition of Jack Nicklaus's book on golf instruction, autographed by fucking Jack himself, he hadn't been able to resist adding it to Jensen's pile of presents under the Christmas tree.
Jared may have found golf to be boring, frustrating and fucking impossible, but Jensen didn't. Jensen loved everything about it. One might almost say that Jensen was obsessed with golf.
And that was how Jared found himself sitting on one end of the couch a few days before Christmas, surrounded by three sympathetic dogs, watching as Jensen immersed himself so completely in Golf My Way that Jared, along with Harley, Sadie and Icarus, might as well have been on the moon for all Jensen knew, or apparently, cared.
"Jensen," Jared said, poking Jensen's thigh with his foot. "Jensen, Jensen, Jensen, Jensen." One poke for each time he said Jensen's name. "Jensen, Jensen, Jensen - ow, you fucker!"
Jensen let go of the bit of Jared's leg hair he'd twisted with his fingers - he actually kind of smoothed it down apologetically - all without looking up from his book.
Jared reached down and rubbed his leg, frowning. "Jensen," he tried again, this time without the poking. He kept his leg well out of Jensen's reach.
Nothing.
"Dude, we're leaving soon. There's not a lot of time before Clif picks us up. Can't you read on the plane?" He put a seductive leer into his voice. "Can't you find something better to fill our last remaining hours with?"
"We're flying to the same place, Jay," Jensen said. "We're spending the rest of the break together. There's no need for prolonged goodbyes, here." He turned the page and his face lit up. "A whole chapter on nine irons," he said with reverence.
Kill me now, Jared thought. Reading about nine irons would probably do the job faster than hitting him over the head with one, he was sure.
Jared sighed. Gustily. He shifted on the couch and put his chin in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He sighed again and turned sideways, pulling his leg up onto the couch, although he was still careful to keep it away from Jensen's lethal fingers.
He sighed once again as loudly as he could and twisted around a third time. At this point, Icarus was staring at him, head tilted to the right like he was trying to figure out what Jared's problem was and Sadie was looking annoyed.
Harley was sound asleep on Jensen's feet, the big traitor.
"And this is why you don't get to come to Texas with us," Jared told him sternly. Harley's left ear twitched, but otherwise he didn't seem unduly upset about spending the Christmas hiatus in Vancouver with Clif and his wife.
Jensen's eyes were glued to the page. He reached for his coffee cup, brought it to his mouth, made a face at the fact that it was empty, and put it back on the end table, all without raising his eyes from his book.
Golf couldn't possibly be that enthralling, Jared thought, but watching all that gave him an idea.
He got to his feet and leaned over to pick up Jensen's coffee cup, taking the opportunity to plant a kiss on the top of his head while he was hovering.
Jensen brushed at him as if he were a fly buzzing around his ears.
Heaving his loudest sigh yet, Jared headed for the kitchen. He felt Sadie and Icarus watching him the whole way.
Returning in a few minutes with a cup of hot, fresh coffee, he held it close to Jensen, letting the smell waft under his nose. He watched in fascination as the aroma penetrated the golf-fog Jensen was immersed in, as Jensen's head came up and his eyes widened in appreciation when he smelled the coffee.
"Thanks, man, you're the best," Jensen said, his smile big enough to break Jared's heart.
"Jen," Jared started, but Jensen was already reading again.
Damn.
They had two hours before they were supposed to leave for the airport. They were packed and ready to go and therefore Jared had nothing to do.
He wanted Jensen to remedy that situation.
"Oh, my God!" Jared said loudly. Jensen's eyes briefly flickered away from the page. "Jensen, oh my God!"
Jensen lifted his head and blinked up at Jared as if emerging from a coma. "What?"
"Um," Jared said, stalling for time. He had no idea what. "Um, did you remember to pack your mom's present?" Jensen had gotten his mom a pair of diamond earrings and decided he didn't trust UPS enough to ship them along with the other Christmas presents they'd sent on ahead. He'd been a bit obsessive about it, really.
There was a momentary flash of panic on Jensen's face, followed by a look of pure relief as he patted the side pocket of the carryon sitting next to him on the couch. "Of course I did," he said. "Way to scare the shit out of me, Jay."
Aaaand he was reading again.
Well, that was it. It was time to pull out the big guns. So to speak. Jared began to unbutton his shirt, sliding it down over his shoulders at the same time as he reached for his belt buckle.
"Jensen, hey, look, Jennnnnsen," Jared drawled, pushing his jeans and boxers down hopefully.
Nothing, although Jared could have sworn he saw the corner of Jensen's mouth quirk, just for a second.
"Jensen, the house is on fire!" Jared yelled as he toed off his shoes and yanked his pants off over his feet.
"Huh?" Jensen said, finally, finally looking up. "Did you say something, Ja…" he broke off, taking in the sight before him. He tilted his head, squinting up at Jared. "Why did you take your clothes off if the house is on fire, Jay? Were you gonna use your pants to beat out the flames?"
"No, but I may use them to beat you into submission," Jared growled. He waited, but Jensen didn't say anything else, just looked at him; okay, smirked at him, an amused glint in his eyes.
"I'm bored!" Jared said.
Jensen sighed and closed his book, although Jared could tell he was trying to read another sentence or two as he did it.
"Fine, get over here, you overgrown child," Jensen said. "I can probably think of something to keep you busy for a few minutes, anyway."
Jared settled himself on top of Jensen, straddling his lap, ass resting on his thighs. If he accidently kneed Jack Nicklaus in the face while he was at it, he was sure no one could blame him.
Word count: 1128
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary/prompt: Fic, bookworm!Jensen and Jared trying get his attention. Non-AU. For insmallpackages
He never should have done it. Seriously, he knew better, but he'd been persuaded by the expression he hoped he'd see on Jensen's face when he laid eyes on this baby.
When Jared found the special edition of Jack Nicklaus's book on golf instruction, autographed by fucking Jack himself, he hadn't been able to resist adding it to Jensen's pile of presents under the Christmas tree.
Jared may have found golf to be boring, frustrating and fucking impossible, but Jensen didn't. Jensen loved everything about it. One might almost say that Jensen was obsessed with golf.
And that was how Jared found himself sitting on one end of the couch a few days before Christmas, surrounded by three sympathetic dogs, watching as Jensen immersed himself so completely in Golf My Way that Jared, along with Harley, Sadie and Icarus, might as well have been on the moon for all Jensen knew, or apparently, cared.
"Jensen," Jared said, poking Jensen's thigh with his foot. "Jensen, Jensen, Jensen, Jensen." One poke for each time he said Jensen's name. "Jensen, Jensen, Jensen - ow, you fucker!"
Jensen let go of the bit of Jared's leg hair he'd twisted with his fingers - he actually kind of smoothed it down apologetically - all without looking up from his book.
Jared reached down and rubbed his leg, frowning. "Jensen," he tried again, this time without the poking. He kept his leg well out of Jensen's reach.
Nothing.
"Dude, we're leaving soon. There's not a lot of time before Clif picks us up. Can't you read on the plane?" He put a seductive leer into his voice. "Can't you find something better to fill our last remaining hours with?"
"We're flying to the same place, Jay," Jensen said. "We're spending the rest of the break together. There's no need for prolonged goodbyes, here." He turned the page and his face lit up. "A whole chapter on nine irons," he said with reverence.
Kill me now, Jared thought. Reading about nine irons would probably do the job faster than hitting him over the head with one, he was sure.
Jared sighed. Gustily. He shifted on the couch and put his chin in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He sighed again and turned sideways, pulling his leg up onto the couch, although he was still careful to keep it away from Jensen's lethal fingers.
He sighed once again as loudly as he could and twisted around a third time. At this point, Icarus was staring at him, head tilted to the right like he was trying to figure out what Jared's problem was and Sadie was looking annoyed.
Harley was sound asleep on Jensen's feet, the big traitor.
"And this is why you don't get to come to Texas with us," Jared told him sternly. Harley's left ear twitched, but otherwise he didn't seem unduly upset about spending the Christmas hiatus in Vancouver with Clif and his wife.
Jensen's eyes were glued to the page. He reached for his coffee cup, brought it to his mouth, made a face at the fact that it was empty, and put it back on the end table, all without raising his eyes from his book.
Golf couldn't possibly be that enthralling, Jared thought, but watching all that gave him an idea.
He got to his feet and leaned over to pick up Jensen's coffee cup, taking the opportunity to plant a kiss on the top of his head while he was hovering.
Jensen brushed at him as if he were a fly buzzing around his ears.
Heaving his loudest sigh yet, Jared headed for the kitchen. He felt Sadie and Icarus watching him the whole way.
Returning in a few minutes with a cup of hot, fresh coffee, he held it close to Jensen, letting the smell waft under his nose. He watched in fascination as the aroma penetrated the golf-fog Jensen was immersed in, as Jensen's head came up and his eyes widened in appreciation when he smelled the coffee.
"Thanks, man, you're the best," Jensen said, his smile big enough to break Jared's heart.
"Jen," Jared started, but Jensen was already reading again.
Damn.
They had two hours before they were supposed to leave for the airport. They were packed and ready to go and therefore Jared had nothing to do.
He wanted Jensen to remedy that situation.
"Oh, my God!" Jared said loudly. Jensen's eyes briefly flickered away from the page. "Jensen, oh my God!"
Jensen lifted his head and blinked up at Jared as if emerging from a coma. "What?"
"Um," Jared said, stalling for time. He had no idea what. "Um, did you remember to pack your mom's present?" Jensen had gotten his mom a pair of diamond earrings and decided he didn't trust UPS enough to ship them along with the other Christmas presents they'd sent on ahead. He'd been a bit obsessive about it, really.
There was a momentary flash of panic on Jensen's face, followed by a look of pure relief as he patted the side pocket of the carryon sitting next to him on the couch. "Of course I did," he said. "Way to scare the shit out of me, Jay."
Aaaand he was reading again.
Well, that was it. It was time to pull out the big guns. So to speak. Jared began to unbutton his shirt, sliding it down over his shoulders at the same time as he reached for his belt buckle.
"Jensen, hey, look, Jennnnnsen," Jared drawled, pushing his jeans and boxers down hopefully.
Nothing, although Jared could have sworn he saw the corner of Jensen's mouth quirk, just for a second.
"Jensen, the house is on fire!" Jared yelled as he toed off his shoes and yanked his pants off over his feet.
"Huh?" Jensen said, finally, finally looking up. "Did you say something, Ja…" he broke off, taking in the sight before him. He tilted his head, squinting up at Jared. "Why did you take your clothes off if the house is on fire, Jay? Were you gonna use your pants to beat out the flames?"
"No, but I may use them to beat you into submission," Jared growled. He waited, but Jensen didn't say anything else, just looked at him; okay, smirked at him, an amused glint in his eyes.
"I'm bored!" Jared said.
Jensen sighed and closed his book, although Jared could tell he was trying to read another sentence or two as he did it.
"Fine, get over here, you overgrown child," Jensen said. "I can probably think of something to keep you busy for a few minutes, anyway."
Jared settled himself on top of Jensen, straddling his lap, ass resting on his thighs. If he accidently kneed Jack Nicklaus in the face while he was at it, he was sure no one could blame him.