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apocalypsosOkay, so this was supposed to be short. It won't be. It wants to be longer and multi-chaptered now, so ... whatever. To hell with it. Apparently I can only commit to writing non-crackfic J-squared if it's family-sized. Go figure.
On the other hand, good. I could stand to try writing multi-chaptered fic again, although feel free to jump me and remind me to finish the fucker, right?
Also, I find it highly amusing that as long as this doesn't go on forever (which it shouldn't) I could easily use different adorable pet icons for every different chapter. HEE.
Title: Snips And Snails And Puppy-Dog Tails (1/?)
Author: Troll Princess
Fandom: CW RPS
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jensen/Jared (Well, Jensen/everybody, really. And Mike/Tom and Steve/Chris references. Any more pop up later, I’ll wave a flag or something.)
Summary: AU, in which the CW gang works in the assorted stores and businesses in a strip mall.
Author’s note: I just had this sudden urge to see Jared and Jensen covered in small children and puppies, is all. (I know there‘s probably some law against day cares and animals and field trips or whatever, but … hand wave, damn it! Puppies and babies! Come on!)
*
Snips And Snails And Puppy-Dog Tails
*
On Mondays and Thursdays one of the day care employees herds the kids over to the Petting Zoo.
The exceptions are the babies and that kid who once tried to throw a box turtle at Jensen’s head. That kid’s banned from the store for life. Jensen thinks that maybe when everybody else is gone he sneaks over to Mayhem Videos and Chad shows him zombie movies. It would explain a lot.
Normally Jensen likes the relative quiet of the pet store. The calm only gets interrupted by the occasional yapping of puppies or squeaking of kittens whenever they’ve got a litter available. He can live with the birds chirping and that bubbling sound from the fish tanks on average days, and even the musky smell of the ferrets and how much the dust from the clay cat litter makes him sneeze.
It’s nice and peaceful. Most of the customers know what they want and don’t give him a lot of hassle.
Usually it’s Sandy who brings the kids over from the day care, ordering them with a smile to stop tapping on the fish tanks or dropping mealworms down the girls’ dresses. She’s cute and tiny and brown like a baby squirrel or something. Jensen likes to hand her kittens to hold because she giggles like crazy and staring at them clinging to her shirt and mewling means that he can get away with ogling her breasts. Man, those fucking things are awesome.
And, yeah, okay, the kids are kind of cute. The day care center usually weeds out the allergic kids as far as Jensen can tell and they’ve all learned that asking to take one of the puppies home means their mommies and daddies won’t let them come anymore. Jensen doesn’t even understand how they get away with this shit, but whatever, man.
This Monday the door opens at two in the afternoon and the crowd of small children saying, “Hi, Mr. Ackles,” precedes the six-foot-five human embodiment of a Great Dane puppy.
Okay, so maybe he’s been working with animals a little too long.
And also, damn.
Jensen perks up from the aisle where he’s doing inventory on wooden chewies for hamsters and gerbils and shit. First Sandy and now this huge hotass cocksucker, who’s practically beaming from the brilliance of his smile and steering the kids into the store with these ginormous hands the size of fucking dinner plates.
Jensen really wonders sometimes if he should even be thinking about cussing this much around toddlers.
“All right, kids, stay close, you hear?”, the guy says, but Becky Turnblad’s already bounding off for the tarantula case and the Malinowski twins have two fat and yappy retriever pups in their arms as if they carried the dogs in with them. The kids know the drill.
As soon as Jensen puts down his clipboard the kids make a break for it. The new guy stammers apologies but Jensen waves it off.
“Don’t worry about it, man, I’m used to it,” he says. He holds out his hand. “I’m Jensen.”
“Jared,” the new guy says. “They told me to bring the kids over, but you sure --”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jensen says. “They‘re not half as rowdy as the dogs, that‘s for damn sure.”
Jared smiles again and his entire face lights up, dimples and a flash of white teeth and this bright happy look in his eyes, and Jensen thinks, Aw, hell.
*
Two hours later Chad walks into the pet store with his hands stuffed into his pants and says, “Dude, did you see the new guy at the kiddie corral? Don’t guys that size usually eat babies instead of babysitting them?”
Jensen doesn‘t look up from the chinchilla cage he‘s currently cleaning. “Get out of my store, Chad,” he says.
The chins peek up over the edge of the box to glare at Chad, still lightly dusted from their baths.
“You say that every time I come in here,” Chad says.
“That’s because I want you to get out of my store. Funny how that works.”
“Whatever, man. You still didn‘t answer my fucking question.”
Chad grabs a dog biscuit from the jar Jensen keeps behind the counter for good dogs whose owners bring them into the store and make sure they behave. He smashes it on the counter and tosses broken pieces into the puppy corral. Jensen winces at the resultant happy barks. Great, now the pups were going to be loud little attention whores for the next couple of hours.
“Yeah, I saw him,” Jensen says, dumping clean shavings into the cage. “He brought in the demon hoard for their Monday visit.”
Chad leans against the counter, his Mayhem Video shirt riding up. He‘s got to be doing it on purpose. “Are you going to fuck him?”
“And his name is Jared, by the -- wait, what?”
Chad frowns and does fake sign language with his hands as he says with deliberate slowness, “Are you going to fuck him?”
“You’re deranged,” Jensen says. He puts the chinchillas into the cage and drops a pair of apple sticks inside for them to chew.
“Bullshit, asshat, I’ve just met you.” Chad smirks at that, because Jensen turns eighteen shades of red and gets way too interested in sweeping wood shavings and chinchilla crap into a garbage can. “Who in this shopping center haven’t you fucked?”
Damn it. Jensen really doesn’t have an argument for that.
*
Jensen always wanted to have a pet store when he was a kid. Oh, sure, he never thought he‘d end up with one. He thought he’d be an actor or a model or something equally gay, right? He’s just that sort of pretty. But then Days didn’t pan out and he lost that stupid gig on that sci-fi show with the hot chick, and the store had a “For Rent or Lease” sign in the front window, and … well.
The thing is that owning your own business, particularly one that sells live animals, means washing them and feeding them and a million other things that take up most of his free time, even with the kids from the high school who work nights and weekends. All of his clothes are covered in cat hair and wood shavings. Sometimes he finds rabbit pellets stuck in the grooves of his sneakers. It’s kind of disgusting.
What it means is that if he wants to get laid, he’s got to pick up men or women or whoever during business hours.
So it means he’s fucked a lot of girls who come in looking to buy kittens (and then don’t, for the most part) and a lot of guys who use the Chihuahua puppies as a conversation starter (and then ignore them on the way out the door, for the most part). He’s fucked Chad in the back room of the video store and Sandy in the day care center’s kitchen after hours. He’s fucked Mike and Tom at different times in the aisles of Party Central, which he’ll never do again. Fucking Mike in that goddamn store means taking the chance he’ll suggest putting a party favor up Jensen’s ass.
Not that he declined but, you know, it’s the principle of the thing.
He’s fucked Steve and Christian at the same damn time against the counter at the music store. It was probably a bad idea. They made him Windex the glass afterward.
Yeah, so, the point.
It doesn’t even matter that they’ve just met, or that Jared might be in a relationship and might not be one of those dicks who freely cheats, or that Jensen doesn’t even know if Jared’s into guys at all. (Not that that‘s ever mattered, since the entire universe seems to be Jensen-sexual sometimes.)
He just really wants to fuck Jared.
Not a surprise, really, but still.
*
The next day Jensen waits until one of his part-timers comes in to take over the register and heads over to the day care center. The kids perk up as soon as he walks in, but once they see he’s not carrying a puppy or a kitten or a bagful of goldfish they all go back to whatever toy they’re banging against the floor or whatever.
A Wiggles video playing on the television reminds Jensen exactly why he avoids coming in here.
Jared’s in the back of the room, changing one of the babies’s diapers. He hums and whispers to the baby, long tan fingers moving fast but gentle over new-pale skin.
The baby coos, all soft and fat and sassy, and waves her little hands at Jared’s cheeks.
Seriously, Jared’s trying to kill him.
“Hey,” Jensen says. His voice is rough and choked. He doesn’t know what the hell is wrong with him, for Christ’s sake.
Jared glances up from the baby and grins. “Hey,” he says, absently finishing off his diapering -- wipes, powder, tapes. He grabs the baby’s hands and kisses her little palms and something in Jensen’s chest tightens. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh, lunch break.” He forces a smile. “Thought you might want to skip out, go get Chinese or something.”
Jared’s grin slips a little as he scoops the baby into his arms. “Yeah, sure,” he says. “I haven’t eaten all day, so I’m game.”
“All right,” Jensen drawls.
*
Lunch consists of watching Jared order half of the menu and pour soy sauce over pretty much everything. It’s one of the few times Jensen’s ever seen somebody easily trump him in the eating department. And somewhere in the middle of inhaling everything on the table he still manages to keep up conversation.
“… and Jeff’s a friend of my dad’s so when he said that he needed somebody trustworthy to help cover the day care center for a few weeks until the new girl moved here from New York I asked if I could do it. Extra cash for school, I figured.”
Jensen nods and pokes at his General Tso’s chicken with his fork, tugging the plate back when Jared’s gaze dances over it. He isn’t above prodding Jared in the hand if he tries anything, either, although he isn’t exactly sure if he’d pull his arm back with the hand still attached.
“So, what about you?” Jared asks. “I mean, a pet store?”
Jensen shrugs. “I just like animals, is all.”
“Hey, me, too.” Jared bites off half a spring roll and chews happily before saying, “I’ve got two big dumb dogs back at my parents’ place. Dumb but sweet, you know?”
Jensen opens his mouth to say something like Sort of like the guy who works at the video store?, but then he remembers that time Chad stuck his hand in the gerbil cage while giving Jensen’s ass a contemplative look and his jaw snaps shut again.
Jared grins at him across the table, big and friendly and goofy. Jensen worries for a split second that it’s an act, that he’s just going to get fucked over when Jared turns out to be a real asshole or that he’s going to spazz when he finds out Jensen’s not all that restrained when it comes to who he fucks. Honestly, the list of who he hasn’t fucked is shorter. He hasn’t slept with his mail carrier, or at least he thinks he hasn’t, but then again if he’s thinking of the same woman she has green teeth and walked in on him going down on Alona the UPS delivery girl behind the register three months ago.
But then Jared says, “You know, Sandy warned me about you,” and …
Well, hell. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. She gave me a big box of condoms and a bottle of Febreze. What the hell is that about, dude?”
And Jensen just laughs, just fucking dies, because, really. What are you supposed to say to that, right?
*
The next time the kids come over Sandy’s the one herding them in, just in time to see Jensen with two of the retriever pups in his arms and one draped over a shoulder gnawing happily on the leather thong around his neck. The little fuckers won’t shut up, already worked up as soon as they heard the kids coming from next door. It was either pick some of ‘em up or suffer the consequences of a fuzzy adorable demon hoard knocking down the puppy enclosure.
He says, “Hey, Sand,” out of habit, but Sandy’s not even listening. She squeaks something that sounds remotely like homifuckingod and whips out her cell phone.
“Jared!” she says a second later. Jensen nearly drops the puppies in his arms to the floor, but she narrows her eyes and points a warning finger at him. “I completely forgot that I have a dentist appointment in a half-hour. Could you come over and watch the kids while I go? Jeff can watch the other kids, and I’ll totally owe you.”
Her smile widens right before she snaps the phone shut and starts barking orders.
“Becky,” she snaps, and Becky Turnblad flinches from the side of the tarantula cage. “You come right back here and wait with the other kids for Jared.”
“You,” she says to the other kids, just as soon as Becky comes bounding back to the group. “You be good for Mr. Ackles and don’t move.”
“And you,” she says, giving Jensen the sternest look she can manage, “put those puppies down in the next twenty seconds and I will end you.”
Jensen’s brow furrows. His neck is coated with dog slobber, and it’s really getting kind of gross. “Sandy, what are you --”
“Doing? Oh, please, Jen.”
And then she bolts.
Leaving him with six small children all staring at him in confusion.
Jesus, he’d known Sandy could be evil, but he didn’t need confirmation.
Not twenty seconds later Jared busts through the doors like he’s knocking the damn things down, saying, “Sorry, man, I’m so sorry, sorry, kids,” like it’s coming out on a continuous loop, and he starts herding the kids towards the puppy enclosure, and then --
“Jesus fuck,” he hisses.
And he’s staring at Jensen. Like, the kind of staring Jensen gets all the time, so it’s not like he’s not used to it or anything, but it’s still different. One of the puppies in his arms has snuggled in and fallen asleep, and the other one’s panting happily as it sees the kids, and the one on his shoulder keeps licking at his neck, at the spot right under his jaw. Jared’s expression is suddenly hot and tense. He looks jealous. Really jealous. Of which puppy, Jensen’s not sure, but he’d place bets on the one attempting to eat his head from the neck up --
“Mr. Jared,” one of the Malinowski twins says quietly as he tugs at Jared’s shirt, “you said a bad word.”
“Yeah,” Jared blurts out. “Right. Sorry, kiddo. How ’bout you see if Mr. Ackles is up for handing off those puppies of his?”
Jensen smirks when Jared says “up,” and then it widens when Jared’s phrasing hits him and he flushes bright red.
Oh, yeah. This was going to be way too easy.
--- TBC ---
On the other hand, good. I could stand to try writing multi-chaptered fic again, although feel free to jump me and remind me to finish the fucker, right?
Also, I find it highly amusing that as long as this doesn't go on forever (which it shouldn't) I could easily use different adorable pet icons for every different chapter. HEE.
Title: Snips And Snails And Puppy-Dog Tails (1/?)
Author: Troll Princess
Fandom: CW RPS
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jensen/Jared (Well, Jensen/everybody, really. And Mike/Tom and Steve/Chris references. Any more pop up later, I’ll wave a flag or something.)
Summary: AU, in which the CW gang works in the assorted stores and businesses in a strip mall.
Author’s note: I just had this sudden urge to see Jared and Jensen covered in small children and puppies, is all. (I know there‘s probably some law against day cares and animals and field trips or whatever, but … hand wave, damn it! Puppies and babies! Come on!)
Snips And Snails And Puppy-Dog Tails
*
On Mondays and Thursdays one of the day care employees herds the kids over to the Petting Zoo.
The exceptions are the babies and that kid who once tried to throw a box turtle at Jensen’s head. That kid’s banned from the store for life. Jensen thinks that maybe when everybody else is gone he sneaks over to Mayhem Videos and Chad shows him zombie movies. It would explain a lot.
Normally Jensen likes the relative quiet of the pet store. The calm only gets interrupted by the occasional yapping of puppies or squeaking of kittens whenever they’ve got a litter available. He can live with the birds chirping and that bubbling sound from the fish tanks on average days, and even the musky smell of the ferrets and how much the dust from the clay cat litter makes him sneeze.
It’s nice and peaceful. Most of the customers know what they want and don’t give him a lot of hassle.
Usually it’s Sandy who brings the kids over from the day care, ordering them with a smile to stop tapping on the fish tanks or dropping mealworms down the girls’ dresses. She’s cute and tiny and brown like a baby squirrel or something. Jensen likes to hand her kittens to hold because she giggles like crazy and staring at them clinging to her shirt and mewling means that he can get away with ogling her breasts. Man, those fucking things are awesome.
And, yeah, okay, the kids are kind of cute. The day care center usually weeds out the allergic kids as far as Jensen can tell and they’ve all learned that asking to take one of the puppies home means their mommies and daddies won’t let them come anymore. Jensen doesn’t even understand how they get away with this shit, but whatever, man.
This Monday the door opens at two in the afternoon and the crowd of small children saying, “Hi, Mr. Ackles,” precedes the six-foot-five human embodiment of a Great Dane puppy.
Okay, so maybe he’s been working with animals a little too long.
And also, damn.
Jensen perks up from the aisle where he’s doing inventory on wooden chewies for hamsters and gerbils and shit. First Sandy and now this huge hotass cocksucker, who’s practically beaming from the brilliance of his smile and steering the kids into the store with these ginormous hands the size of fucking dinner plates.
Jensen really wonders sometimes if he should even be thinking about cussing this much around toddlers.
“All right, kids, stay close, you hear?”, the guy says, but Becky Turnblad’s already bounding off for the tarantula case and the Malinowski twins have two fat and yappy retriever pups in their arms as if they carried the dogs in with them. The kids know the drill.
As soon as Jensen puts down his clipboard the kids make a break for it. The new guy stammers apologies but Jensen waves it off.
“Don’t worry about it, man, I’m used to it,” he says. He holds out his hand. “I’m Jensen.”
“Jared,” the new guy says. “They told me to bring the kids over, but you sure --”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jensen says. “They‘re not half as rowdy as the dogs, that‘s for damn sure.”
Jared smiles again and his entire face lights up, dimples and a flash of white teeth and this bright happy look in his eyes, and Jensen thinks, Aw, hell.
Two hours later Chad walks into the pet store with his hands stuffed into his pants and says, “Dude, did you see the new guy at the kiddie corral? Don’t guys that size usually eat babies instead of babysitting them?”
Jensen doesn‘t look up from the chinchilla cage he‘s currently cleaning. “Get out of my store, Chad,” he says.
The chins peek up over the edge of the box to glare at Chad, still lightly dusted from their baths.
“You say that every time I come in here,” Chad says.
“That’s because I want you to get out of my store. Funny how that works.”
“Whatever, man. You still didn‘t answer my fucking question.”
Chad grabs a dog biscuit from the jar Jensen keeps behind the counter for good dogs whose owners bring them into the store and make sure they behave. He smashes it on the counter and tosses broken pieces into the puppy corral. Jensen winces at the resultant happy barks. Great, now the pups were going to be loud little attention whores for the next couple of hours.
“Yeah, I saw him,” Jensen says, dumping clean shavings into the cage. “He brought in the demon hoard for their Monday visit.”
Chad leans against the counter, his Mayhem Video shirt riding up. He‘s got to be doing it on purpose. “Are you going to fuck him?”
“And his name is Jared, by the -- wait, what?”
Chad frowns and does fake sign language with his hands as he says with deliberate slowness, “Are you going to fuck him?”
“You’re deranged,” Jensen says. He puts the chinchillas into the cage and drops a pair of apple sticks inside for them to chew.
“Bullshit, asshat, I’ve just met you.” Chad smirks at that, because Jensen turns eighteen shades of red and gets way too interested in sweeping wood shavings and chinchilla crap into a garbage can. “Who in this shopping center haven’t you fucked?”
Damn it. Jensen really doesn’t have an argument for that.
Jensen always wanted to have a pet store when he was a kid. Oh, sure, he never thought he‘d end up with one. He thought he’d be an actor or a model or something equally gay, right? He’s just that sort of pretty. But then Days didn’t pan out and he lost that stupid gig on that sci-fi show with the hot chick, and the store had a “For Rent or Lease” sign in the front window, and … well.
The thing is that owning your own business, particularly one that sells live animals, means washing them and feeding them and a million other things that take up most of his free time, even with the kids from the high school who work nights and weekends. All of his clothes are covered in cat hair and wood shavings. Sometimes he finds rabbit pellets stuck in the grooves of his sneakers. It’s kind of disgusting.
What it means is that if he wants to get laid, he’s got to pick up men or women or whoever during business hours.
So it means he’s fucked a lot of girls who come in looking to buy kittens (and then don’t, for the most part) and a lot of guys who use the Chihuahua puppies as a conversation starter (and then ignore them on the way out the door, for the most part). He’s fucked Chad in the back room of the video store and Sandy in the day care center’s kitchen after hours. He’s fucked Mike and Tom at different times in the aisles of Party Central, which he’ll never do again. Fucking Mike in that goddamn store means taking the chance he’ll suggest putting a party favor up Jensen’s ass.
Not that he declined but, you know, it’s the principle of the thing.
He’s fucked Steve and Christian at the same damn time against the counter at the music store. It was probably a bad idea. They made him Windex the glass afterward.
Yeah, so, the point.
It doesn’t even matter that they’ve just met, or that Jared might be in a relationship and might not be one of those dicks who freely cheats, or that Jensen doesn’t even know if Jared’s into guys at all. (Not that that‘s ever mattered, since the entire universe seems to be Jensen-sexual sometimes.)
He just really wants to fuck Jared.
Not a surprise, really, but still.
The next day Jensen waits until one of his part-timers comes in to take over the register and heads over to the day care center. The kids perk up as soon as he walks in, but once they see he’s not carrying a puppy or a kitten or a bagful of goldfish they all go back to whatever toy they’re banging against the floor or whatever.
A Wiggles video playing on the television reminds Jensen exactly why he avoids coming in here.
Jared’s in the back of the room, changing one of the babies’s diapers. He hums and whispers to the baby, long tan fingers moving fast but gentle over new-pale skin.
The baby coos, all soft and fat and sassy, and waves her little hands at Jared’s cheeks.
Seriously, Jared’s trying to kill him.
“Hey,” Jensen says. His voice is rough and choked. He doesn’t know what the hell is wrong with him, for Christ’s sake.
Jared glances up from the baby and grins. “Hey,” he says, absently finishing off his diapering -- wipes, powder, tapes. He grabs the baby’s hands and kisses her little palms and something in Jensen’s chest tightens. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh, lunch break.” He forces a smile. “Thought you might want to skip out, go get Chinese or something.”
Jared’s grin slips a little as he scoops the baby into his arms. “Yeah, sure,” he says. “I haven’t eaten all day, so I’m game.”
“All right,” Jensen drawls.
Lunch consists of watching Jared order half of the menu and pour soy sauce over pretty much everything. It’s one of the few times Jensen’s ever seen somebody easily trump him in the eating department. And somewhere in the middle of inhaling everything on the table he still manages to keep up conversation.
“… and Jeff’s a friend of my dad’s so when he said that he needed somebody trustworthy to help cover the day care center for a few weeks until the new girl moved here from New York I asked if I could do it. Extra cash for school, I figured.”
Jensen nods and pokes at his General Tso’s chicken with his fork, tugging the plate back when Jared’s gaze dances over it. He isn’t above prodding Jared in the hand if he tries anything, either, although he isn’t exactly sure if he’d pull his arm back with the hand still attached.
“So, what about you?” Jared asks. “I mean, a pet store?”
Jensen shrugs. “I just like animals, is all.”
“Hey, me, too.” Jared bites off half a spring roll and chews happily before saying, “I’ve got two big dumb dogs back at my parents’ place. Dumb but sweet, you know?”
Jensen opens his mouth to say something like Sort of like the guy who works at the video store?, but then he remembers that time Chad stuck his hand in the gerbil cage while giving Jensen’s ass a contemplative look and his jaw snaps shut again.
Jared grins at him across the table, big and friendly and goofy. Jensen worries for a split second that it’s an act, that he’s just going to get fucked over when Jared turns out to be a real asshole or that he’s going to spazz when he finds out Jensen’s not all that restrained when it comes to who he fucks. Honestly, the list of who he hasn’t fucked is shorter. He hasn’t slept with his mail carrier, or at least he thinks he hasn’t, but then again if he’s thinking of the same woman she has green teeth and walked in on him going down on Alona the UPS delivery girl behind the register three months ago.
But then Jared says, “You know, Sandy warned me about you,” and …
Well, hell. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. She gave me a big box of condoms and a bottle of Febreze. What the hell is that about, dude?”
And Jensen just laughs, just fucking dies, because, really. What are you supposed to say to that, right?
The next time the kids come over Sandy’s the one herding them in, just in time to see Jensen with two of the retriever pups in his arms and one draped over a shoulder gnawing happily on the leather thong around his neck. The little fuckers won’t shut up, already worked up as soon as they heard the kids coming from next door. It was either pick some of ‘em up or suffer the consequences of a fuzzy adorable demon hoard knocking down the puppy enclosure.
He says, “Hey, Sand,” out of habit, but Sandy’s not even listening. She squeaks something that sounds remotely like homifuckingod and whips out her cell phone.
“Jared!” she says a second later. Jensen nearly drops the puppies in his arms to the floor, but she narrows her eyes and points a warning finger at him. “I completely forgot that I have a dentist appointment in a half-hour. Could you come over and watch the kids while I go? Jeff can watch the other kids, and I’ll totally owe you.”
Her smile widens right before she snaps the phone shut and starts barking orders.
“Becky,” she snaps, and Becky Turnblad flinches from the side of the tarantula cage. “You come right back here and wait with the other kids for Jared.”
“You,” she says to the other kids, just as soon as Becky comes bounding back to the group. “You be good for Mr. Ackles and don’t move.”
“And you,” she says, giving Jensen the sternest look she can manage, “put those puppies down in the next twenty seconds and I will end you.”
Jensen’s brow furrows. His neck is coated with dog slobber, and it’s really getting kind of gross. “Sandy, what are you --”
“Doing? Oh, please, Jen.”
And then she bolts.
Leaving him with six small children all staring at him in confusion.
Jesus, he’d known Sandy could be evil, but he didn’t need confirmation.
Not twenty seconds later Jared busts through the doors like he’s knocking the damn things down, saying, “Sorry, man, I’m so sorry, sorry, kids,” like it’s coming out on a continuous loop, and he starts herding the kids towards the puppy enclosure, and then --
“Jesus fuck,” he hisses.
And he’s staring at Jensen. Like, the kind of staring Jensen gets all the time, so it’s not like he’s not used to it or anything, but it’s still different. One of the puppies in his arms has snuggled in and fallen asleep, and the other one’s panting happily as it sees the kids, and the one on his shoulder keeps licking at his neck, at the spot right under his jaw. Jared’s expression is suddenly hot and tense. He looks jealous. Really jealous. Of which puppy, Jensen’s not sure, but he’d place bets on the one attempting to eat his head from the neck up --
“Mr. Jared,” one of the Malinowski twins says quietly as he tugs at Jared’s shirt, “you said a bad word.”
“Yeah,” Jared blurts out. “Right. Sorry, kiddo. How ’bout you see if Mr. Ackles is up for handing off those puppies of his?”
Jensen smirks when Jared says “up,” and then it widens when Jared’s phrasing hits him and he flushes bright red.
Oh, yeah. This was going to be way too easy.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2007-06-11 05:43 pm (UTC)Love, love it! ♥
Jensen-sexual. Hehehe. I don't know many people who aren't!
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Date: 2007-06-11 06:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-11 06:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-11 07:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-11 07:37 pm (UTC)I really can't wait for more.
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Date: 2007-06-11 08:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-11 09:05 pm (UTC)More! Please! Please! Please!
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Date: 2007-06-11 09:14 pm (UTC):(((((( *bookmarks for later squeeage*
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Date: 2007-06-11 09:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-11 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-11 09:34 pm (UTC)I think you are the saviour of my revision-heavy, exam-filled week.
I am dancing and waiting for more.
THANK YOU!
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Date: 2007-06-11 09:51 pm (UTC)Jensen fucking everybody in the shopping complex is ten million times funnier than everybody in the city, apartment building, or co-op. I'm not really exactly sure why, but serious cracking up, here.
Mr. Jared said a bad word! Hahahahahahahaaa!
And Jensen falling for Jared kissing babies is the most adorkable thing ever! (P. S. PLEASE let us see Jeff holding Circle Time or playing Duck Duck Goose or something. PLEASE.)
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Date: 2007-06-11 11:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-11 11:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-12 12:10 am (UTC)Oh, I love it! Definitely made me laugh. Oh, boys, already all smitten. With the baby, and then the puppies! Adorable.
And, possibly the best thing ever:
“Yeah. She gave me a big box of condoms and a bottle of Febreze. What the hell is that about, dude?”
And Jensen just laughs, just fucking dies, because, really. What are you supposed to say to that, right?
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Date: 2007-06-12 12:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-12 12:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-12 01:05 am (UTC)<333 RE
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Date: 2007-06-12 01:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-12 02:41 am (UTC)this is so gonna be fun
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Date: 2007-06-12 02:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-12 03:11 am (UTC)That is ten kinds of awesome.
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Date: 2007-06-12 03:28 am (UTC)MORE MORE MORE MORE!!!!!!!!
please? *
jaredpuppy face**gives you three-tier cake*
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Date: 2007-06-12 04:37 am (UTC)*jumps up and down clapping hands*
Date: 2007-06-12 06:50 am (UTC)