Jager Bomb for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
yourperiphery
Jun. 4th, 2011 07:15 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
springflingmod.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
spn_springflingTitle: Jager Bomb
Pairing: Jared/Chad
Rating: PG-13
Written byrhythmsextion for yourperiphery!
Jared wakes up with an arm draped heavy over his shoulder and someone's knee against the back of his thigh. And a pounding headache.
Sunlight streams in through the window, blinding and horrible, and Jared shuts his eyes tight against it, burrows his face into the pillow with a low groan. His stomach churns, yet another miserable reminder of his poor life choices.
Jager, he thinks, regretfully. He'll never learn.
The person currently glued to his back seems to snorfle in agreement and Jared groans again, takes a moment to catalog the state of the rest of his body in an effort to figure out just how uncomfortable this whole morning-after business is going to be. Alcohol makes him stupid, he knows this. Hell, even sober he often lacks good judgment; while intoxicated it's essentially nonexistent.
If nothing else, he hopes he didn't fuck another of his TAs. That had been awkward enough the first time.
Judging by the pitch of the snoring, the weight of the arm, and the prickle of leg hair against Jared's thigh, he's willing to guess the person is a guy, though he's still not one hundred percent on that. With his eyes still closed, he tries to remember, shoving past the hangover haze to the night before, willing up blurry memories of a drunken Bee Gees sing-a-long and an embarrassing attempt at Twister.
He gets sidetracked momentarily when he suddenly finds himself thinking about his roommate's inevitable reaction to this. Nevermind the fact that Chad had twice as many drunken hook-ups in their first month at school than Jared's had in the two years since. Doesn't matter. Blatant hypocrisy has always been one of his friend's most prominent attributes.
Regardless of this person's identity, Jared's going to be hearing about it for awhile.
And then, in a flash, he remembers.
He doesn't know what triggers it, can't pin it down to anything, but suddenly he's picturing the guy's sly little smirk and green eyes and incredible fucking body. He doesn't remember how he'd gotten there or how they'd started talking, but he does remember a rough, open laugh, a bright, nearly child-like smile and adorable crows feet, a splash of freckles across the bridge of an almost perfect nose.
Jensen, his brain helpfully supplies after another moment's contemplation.
"Jensen," he echoes, trying it out.
The guy behind him stirs, grunting in what Jared can only assume is affirmation, and Jared feels a fresh thrill go through him, his eyes snapping open.
He tries looking back over his shoulder, but the position is completely awkward and he's effectively held down by the weight of the guy's arm. A faint burn of stubble scrapes against his bare back as the guy moves again, squirming closer with a huff of warm breath and a mumble of unintelligible words.
Jared goes still, stuck between not wanting to disturb the seriously hot guy wrapped around him like a touch-starved octopus, and desperately wanting to look the guy in the eye. Maybe even steal a morning kiss, gross, fuzzy, hangover breath be damned. Maybe steal a little more if Jensen's up for it. So to speak.
Or, if Jared takes his bladder's vote into consideration, maybe just spend a few minutes in the bathroom.
His head still feels heavy, temples throbbing steadily and he's hot all over. Boxed in. Still, it's not entirely unpleasant and he lets his eyes slip shut again and tries to remember just how he got here.
And that's where he comes up blank.
He remembers leaving the party, remembers stumbling out the front door, remembers falling into the grass and laughing up at the sky, the stars spinning above him. He remembers someone dropping down next to him, someone who must've been Jensen, remembers being jostled and shoved for awhile before managing enough motor control to reach up and tug the guy onto him.
And he remembers kissing. A lot of kissing. Wet, hungry, uncoordinated kissing that made his head spin all over again, made his blood thrum warm and his--
It hits like a bucket of cold water, making him jolt upright, eyes wide and panicked.
The body beside him grunts in displeasure and then nearly topples to the floor as Jared tries scrambling free, legs tangled in the sheets.
"What the--" comes Chad's groggy, confused voice.
They stare at each other, Chad still clearly half asleep and Jared suddenly far too awake. Silence stretches, broken only by the harsh staccato of Jared's breathing. He's remembering now. Remembering the kisses in the grass and the ones in the cab and the ones here, in his bed.
He's remembering a whole lot more than just kissing.
Chad blinks at him, brow creased as he lifts a hand to his rub his face. "Shit, this is gonna be a thing, isn't it?" he mumbles.
"You're-- You--" Jared tries, panic rising. They're both still naked. And Chad isn't making any move at all to cover himself. "Chad!"
"Oh hey, you remember my name. Good sign."
"Chad!"
Chad grimaces and turns his head into Jared's pillow, voice muffled as he says, "Fuck, is that really necessary? My head's killin' me, homes."
Jared sputters, equal parts appalled and confused. Grabbing his sheets, he starts shoving with his feet, pushing his roommate away from him as hard as he can as he shouts, "You're not even gay! What the hell?!"
Chad puts up remarkably little struggle, landing on the floor with a dull thud and a glare.
"Dude."
"Seriously, what the fuck?" Jared continues, the pitch of his voice rising. "How drunk were you?"
"Hey, you kissed me first!"
"So! You know how I am when I'm drunk. Why didn't you stop me?"
Chad shrugs then, glare fading as he leans back to lay out on the floor. Still completely naked. "You were pretty good," he says plainly. "You know, for a drunk dude. Figured I'd go with it."
"I can't believe this is happening," Jared groans, faceplanting into his pillow.
"The sex could've been better," Chad adds. "But I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt there and guessing all that tequila had something to do with it."
"This is not happening," Jared amends, eyes screwed up tight and stomach churning dangerously.
"Oh, and you're welcome. That Ackles douchwad shouldn't bother you anymore. Pretty sure he saw us getting freaky on the lawn and got the message." He sounds genuinely pleased with himself, confident he's done Jared a solid in protecting him from the single hottest guy Jared has ever seen in his entire goddamn life. "Man, what a dick."
And Jared laughs then. Laughs because it's all he can do, his shoulders shaking as the sound bubbling free, absorbed into the pillow that now smells like Chad's fucking shampoo.
He laughs until he's crying, laughs until his stomach hurts for a whole new reason. Laughs until Chad shoves him aside and crawls back under the covers, slings an arm over Jared's back and grumbles, "You're a fucking spaz, Padalecki."
Chad’s fingers curl through the hair at the nape of Jared’s neck, petting softly, and Jared’s laughter gets stuck in his throat.
Yeah, he thinks when Chad brushes dry, warm lips against his shoulder. This is gonna be a thing.
Pairing: Jared/Chad
Rating: PG-13
Written by
rhythmsextion for yourperiphery!Jared wakes up with an arm draped heavy over his shoulder and someone's knee against the back of his thigh. And a pounding headache.
Sunlight streams in through the window, blinding and horrible, and Jared shuts his eyes tight against it, burrows his face into the pillow with a low groan. His stomach churns, yet another miserable reminder of his poor life choices.
Jager, he thinks, regretfully. He'll never learn.
The person currently glued to his back seems to snorfle in agreement and Jared groans again, takes a moment to catalog the state of the rest of his body in an effort to figure out just how uncomfortable this whole morning-after business is going to be. Alcohol makes him stupid, he knows this. Hell, even sober he often lacks good judgment; while intoxicated it's essentially nonexistent.
If nothing else, he hopes he didn't fuck another of his TAs. That had been awkward enough the first time.
Judging by the pitch of the snoring, the weight of the arm, and the prickle of leg hair against Jared's thigh, he's willing to guess the person is a guy, though he's still not one hundred percent on that. With his eyes still closed, he tries to remember, shoving past the hangover haze to the night before, willing up blurry memories of a drunken Bee Gees sing-a-long and an embarrassing attempt at Twister.
He gets sidetracked momentarily when he suddenly finds himself thinking about his roommate's inevitable reaction to this. Nevermind the fact that Chad had twice as many drunken hook-ups in their first month at school than Jared's had in the two years since. Doesn't matter. Blatant hypocrisy has always been one of his friend's most prominent attributes.
Regardless of this person's identity, Jared's going to be hearing about it for awhile.
And then, in a flash, he remembers.
He doesn't know what triggers it, can't pin it down to anything, but suddenly he's picturing the guy's sly little smirk and green eyes and incredible fucking body. He doesn't remember how he'd gotten there or how they'd started talking, but he does remember a rough, open laugh, a bright, nearly child-like smile and adorable crows feet, a splash of freckles across the bridge of an almost perfect nose.
Jensen, his brain helpfully supplies after another moment's contemplation.
"Jensen," he echoes, trying it out.
The guy behind him stirs, grunting in what Jared can only assume is affirmation, and Jared feels a fresh thrill go through him, his eyes snapping open.
He tries looking back over his shoulder, but the position is completely awkward and he's effectively held down by the weight of the guy's arm. A faint burn of stubble scrapes against his bare back as the guy moves again, squirming closer with a huff of warm breath and a mumble of unintelligible words.
Jared goes still, stuck between not wanting to disturb the seriously hot guy wrapped around him like a touch-starved octopus, and desperately wanting to look the guy in the eye. Maybe even steal a morning kiss, gross, fuzzy, hangover breath be damned. Maybe steal a little more if Jensen's up for it. So to speak.
Or, if Jared takes his bladder's vote into consideration, maybe just spend a few minutes in the bathroom.
His head still feels heavy, temples throbbing steadily and he's hot all over. Boxed in. Still, it's not entirely unpleasant and he lets his eyes slip shut again and tries to remember just how he got here.
And that's where he comes up blank.
He remembers leaving the party, remembers stumbling out the front door, remembers falling into the grass and laughing up at the sky, the stars spinning above him. He remembers someone dropping down next to him, someone who must've been Jensen, remembers being jostled and shoved for awhile before managing enough motor control to reach up and tug the guy onto him.
And he remembers kissing. A lot of kissing. Wet, hungry, uncoordinated kissing that made his head spin all over again, made his blood thrum warm and his--
It hits like a bucket of cold water, making him jolt upright, eyes wide and panicked.
The body beside him grunts in displeasure and then nearly topples to the floor as Jared tries scrambling free, legs tangled in the sheets.
"What the--" comes Chad's groggy, confused voice.
They stare at each other, Chad still clearly half asleep and Jared suddenly far too awake. Silence stretches, broken only by the harsh staccato of Jared's breathing. He's remembering now. Remembering the kisses in the grass and the ones in the cab and the ones here, in his bed.
He's remembering a whole lot more than just kissing.
Chad blinks at him, brow creased as he lifts a hand to his rub his face. "Shit, this is gonna be a thing, isn't it?" he mumbles.
"You're-- You--" Jared tries, panic rising. They're both still naked. And Chad isn't making any move at all to cover himself. "Chad!"
"Oh hey, you remember my name. Good sign."
"Chad!"
Chad grimaces and turns his head into Jared's pillow, voice muffled as he says, "Fuck, is that really necessary? My head's killin' me, homes."
Jared sputters, equal parts appalled and confused. Grabbing his sheets, he starts shoving with his feet, pushing his roommate away from him as hard as he can as he shouts, "You're not even gay! What the hell?!"
Chad puts up remarkably little struggle, landing on the floor with a dull thud and a glare.
"Dude."
"Seriously, what the fuck?" Jared continues, the pitch of his voice rising. "How drunk were you?"
"Hey, you kissed me first!"
"So! You know how I am when I'm drunk. Why didn't you stop me?"
Chad shrugs then, glare fading as he leans back to lay out on the floor. Still completely naked. "You were pretty good," he says plainly. "You know, for a drunk dude. Figured I'd go with it."
"I can't believe this is happening," Jared groans, faceplanting into his pillow.
"The sex could've been better," Chad adds. "But I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt there and guessing all that tequila had something to do with it."
"This is not happening," Jared amends, eyes screwed up tight and stomach churning dangerously.
"Oh, and you're welcome. That Ackles douchwad shouldn't bother you anymore. Pretty sure he saw us getting freaky on the lawn and got the message." He sounds genuinely pleased with himself, confident he's done Jared a solid in protecting him from the single hottest guy Jared has ever seen in his entire goddamn life. "Man, what a dick."
And Jared laughs then. Laughs because it's all he can do, his shoulders shaking as the sound bubbling free, absorbed into the pillow that now smells like Chad's fucking shampoo.
He laughs until he's crying, laughs until his stomach hurts for a whole new reason. Laughs until Chad shoves him aside and crawls back under the covers, slings an arm over Jared's back and grumbles, "You're a fucking spaz, Padalecki."
Chad’s fingers curl through the hair at the nape of Jared’s neck, petting softly, and Jared’s laughter gets stuck in his throat.
Yeah, he thinks when Chad brushes dry, warm lips against his shoulder. This is gonna be a thing.
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Date: 2011-06-04 06:30 pm (UTC)Chad blinks at him, brow creased as he lifts a hand to his rub his face. "Shit, this is gonna be a thing, isn't it?" he mumbles.
...and really enjoyed the way Chad just takes it in stride. This was a fun one.
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Date: 2011-06-14 01:13 am (UTC)Also, confession: I totally knew I was writing for you almost solely BECAUSE of the Jared/Chad prompt. <333
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