Disco Lights On a Friday Night for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
earthquakedream
Jun. 6th, 2011 04:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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spn_springflingTitle: Disco Lights On a Friday Night
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: PG-13
Written bywutendeskind for earthquakedream!
“Gen, this is a spectacularly bad idea.”
“Live a little, Jared,” Genevieve says, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the front of the club. “Man cannot live on the ghosts of past relationships and awkward office flirtation alone.”
“Hey—“
“If you try and tell me your five month flirtation with Mark is going somewhere, I am going cause a scene.”
“It really is. Just last week he asked me if I had any toner.”
“And by toner he did not mean boner.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Jared, honey, I just want you to have a good night,” Genevieve says. “Dance a little, flirt a lot. And trust me that the key to your happiness is not written on your cubicle wall.”
“Alright,” Jared says, “let’s do this.”
Before he can even finish speaking, Genevieve is dancing her way to the bar, pulling him along by his shirtsleeve. Jared lets his gaze wander, trying to take it all in. When he looks up, the bartender is trying to get his attention.
“Did you want something to drink?” Jared suspects it’s not the first time he’s had to ask.
He looks to Genevieve and the drink she’s already downing. It looks like an iced coffee. Safe. “I’ll have what she’s having,” Jared says.
The bartender smiles. “A screaming orgasm, then?”
Jared curses his eyebrows as they make their way to his hairline. “Excuse me?”
“That’s what she’s having. But how about a nice beer for you?” Jared’s face must not change, because the bartender continues, “I won’t even try to serve you anything imported, don’t worry.”
Jared smiles sheepishly. “I’ve been known to get a little wild from time to time.”
The bartender laughs. “Yeah? How wild?”
“Uh, like Corona wild,” Jared admits. “If you have it.”
“Oh, Corona. Living on the edge. Sure you don’t want it light?”
Jared feels himself start to blush. “I think my hips can take it.”
The bartender gives him a once over and smiles, this one a little darker than before. “I’d say so.”
Jared’s sure flirting for tips is all part of the act but as far as he’s concerned, it’s working. “I’m Jared,” he says, reaching for his beer.
“Jensen,” the bartender says. “I’d ask if you come here often, but I think we both know the answer to that.”
Jared looks away. “Am I really that obvious?”
“To someone who works here six nights a week and has never seen you? A little.”
Genevieve slams her glass down on the bar, making her presence known again. “I’m gonna go dance. You can stay here.”
“No, that’s alright. I can go dance.”
“You sure?” Genevieve asks, wiggling her eyebrows.
Jared’s too embarrassed to see what Jensen’s face is doing, so he tugs on Genevieve’s belt loop and hopes there’s a second bar buried in the back. He needs a drink. Or seven.
He has a cold drink in his hand and is dancing with Genevieve, enjoying the relative anonymity the club offers when he feels someone press up behind him. The stranger grabs his hip, fingertips playing across Jared’s side and whispers in his ear. “Want to dance?”
Jared doesn’t turn around, just nods and leans back, lets himself be guided by a broad chest and deft hands. Jared forgets himself, his earlier embarrassment, the months of not going out—everything—in the heavy thump of bass and the streaks of bright, flashing light. They dance for a minute, twenty, two hours, until Jared loses track of Genevieve and stops denying that he can’t turn around because he’s imagining a certain green-eyed bartender. They dance until the DJ announces last call and Jared’s forced to shatter the illusion.
“Can we get out of here?” The guy says.
“I’m actually supposed to be looking for a friend,” Jared says, shouting to be heard over the music. “The one I was dancing with earlier? She’s taking me home tonight.”
“Too bad,” the guy says. “You’re just my type.”
Jared smiles. His dance partner is cute, brown hair and pretty brown eyes framed by long, dark lashes. And if the bump-and-grind is anything to go by, fantastic in bed. If Jared were anyone else, he’d take him home in a minute. Instead, he politely declines and weaves his way back to coat check to wait for Genevieve, making a pact with himself to go out more often.
“Leaving alone?”
Jared startles, pulled out of his thoughts. He turns to find Jensen behind him, an expectant look on his face. “Oh, no. Just waiting for a friend.”
“I think she left an hour ago.”
“What?”
“The girl you came in with? She of the screaming orgasms?” Jared nods. “She came by the bar, told me if I found you wandering around like a lost puppy after last call to make sure you knew you had brought this upon yourself.”
“She is dead to me.”
Jensen smiles. “You looked like you were having a good time. You have some moves, man.”
Jared feels his face start to heat up, but hopes he’s still flushed enough from dancing that it’ll go unnoticed. “Thanks. I, uh, don’t really do this.”
“Really? Couldn’t tell.”
Jared bites his lip. “I liked it, though. Going out. I’m gonna do it more.”
“Let me take you home, Jared.”
“I can just call a cab. I’m not like new in town or anything.”
“I made less money in tips tonight than I have since my first week on the job.”
Jared tries not to let his confusion show on his face. For all he knows maybe this is what bartenders and their regulars talk about at the end of the night. “I’m sorry?”
“I spent all night watching you, Jared.”
“Oh,” Jared says.
“Yeah, oh.” Jensen smiles. “The least you can do is let me walk you home.”
“I’d like that,” Jared says.
Jensen lets his shoulder bump Jared’s on the way out. When their hands brush, Jared doesn’t pull away.
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: PG-13
Written by
wutendeskind for earthquakedream!“Gen, this is a spectacularly bad idea.”
“Live a little, Jared,” Genevieve says, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the front of the club. “Man cannot live on the ghosts of past relationships and awkward office flirtation alone.”
“Hey—“
“If you try and tell me your five month flirtation with Mark is going somewhere, I am going cause a scene.”
“It really is. Just last week he asked me if I had any toner.”
“And by toner he did not mean boner.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Jared, honey, I just want you to have a good night,” Genevieve says. “Dance a little, flirt a lot. And trust me that the key to your happiness is not written on your cubicle wall.”
“Alright,” Jared says, “let’s do this.”
Before he can even finish speaking, Genevieve is dancing her way to the bar, pulling him along by his shirtsleeve. Jared lets his gaze wander, trying to take it all in. When he looks up, the bartender is trying to get his attention.
“Did you want something to drink?” Jared suspects it’s not the first time he’s had to ask.
He looks to Genevieve and the drink she’s already downing. It looks like an iced coffee. Safe. “I’ll have what she’s having,” Jared says.
The bartender smiles. “A screaming orgasm, then?”
Jared curses his eyebrows as they make their way to his hairline. “Excuse me?”
“That’s what she’s having. But how about a nice beer for you?” Jared’s face must not change, because the bartender continues, “I won’t even try to serve you anything imported, don’t worry.”
Jared smiles sheepishly. “I’ve been known to get a little wild from time to time.”
The bartender laughs. “Yeah? How wild?”
“Uh, like Corona wild,” Jared admits. “If you have it.”
“Oh, Corona. Living on the edge. Sure you don’t want it light?”
Jared feels himself start to blush. “I think my hips can take it.”
The bartender gives him a once over and smiles, this one a little darker than before. “I’d say so.”
Jared’s sure flirting for tips is all part of the act but as far as he’s concerned, it’s working. “I’m Jared,” he says, reaching for his beer.
“Jensen,” the bartender says. “I’d ask if you come here often, but I think we both know the answer to that.”
Jared looks away. “Am I really that obvious?”
“To someone who works here six nights a week and has never seen you? A little.”
Genevieve slams her glass down on the bar, making her presence known again. “I’m gonna go dance. You can stay here.”
“No, that’s alright. I can go dance.”
“You sure?” Genevieve asks, wiggling her eyebrows.
Jared’s too embarrassed to see what Jensen’s face is doing, so he tugs on Genevieve’s belt loop and hopes there’s a second bar buried in the back. He needs a drink. Or seven.
He has a cold drink in his hand and is dancing with Genevieve, enjoying the relative anonymity the club offers when he feels someone press up behind him. The stranger grabs his hip, fingertips playing across Jared’s side and whispers in his ear. “Want to dance?”
Jared doesn’t turn around, just nods and leans back, lets himself be guided by a broad chest and deft hands. Jared forgets himself, his earlier embarrassment, the months of not going out—everything—in the heavy thump of bass and the streaks of bright, flashing light. They dance for a minute, twenty, two hours, until Jared loses track of Genevieve and stops denying that he can’t turn around because he’s imagining a certain green-eyed bartender. They dance until the DJ announces last call and Jared’s forced to shatter the illusion.
“Can we get out of here?” The guy says.
“I’m actually supposed to be looking for a friend,” Jared says, shouting to be heard over the music. “The one I was dancing with earlier? She’s taking me home tonight.”
“Too bad,” the guy says. “You’re just my type.”
Jared smiles. His dance partner is cute, brown hair and pretty brown eyes framed by long, dark lashes. And if the bump-and-grind is anything to go by, fantastic in bed. If Jared were anyone else, he’d take him home in a minute. Instead, he politely declines and weaves his way back to coat check to wait for Genevieve, making a pact with himself to go out more often.
“Leaving alone?”
Jared startles, pulled out of his thoughts. He turns to find Jensen behind him, an expectant look on his face. “Oh, no. Just waiting for a friend.”
“I think she left an hour ago.”
“What?”
“The girl you came in with? She of the screaming orgasms?” Jared nods. “She came by the bar, told me if I found you wandering around like a lost puppy after last call to make sure you knew you had brought this upon yourself.”
“She is dead to me.”
Jensen smiles. “You looked like you were having a good time. You have some moves, man.”
Jared feels his face start to heat up, but hopes he’s still flushed enough from dancing that it’ll go unnoticed. “Thanks. I, uh, don’t really do this.”
“Really? Couldn’t tell.”
Jared bites his lip. “I liked it, though. Going out. I’m gonna do it more.”
“Let me take you home, Jared.”
“I can just call a cab. I’m not like new in town or anything.”
“I made less money in tips tonight than I have since my first week on the job.”
Jared tries not to let his confusion show on his face. For all he knows maybe this is what bartenders and their regulars talk about at the end of the night. “I’m sorry?”
“I spent all night watching you, Jared.”
“Oh,” Jared says.
“Yeah, oh.” Jensen smiles. “The least you can do is let me walk you home.”
“I’d like that,” Jared says.
Jensen lets his shoulder bump Jared’s on the way out. When their hands brush, Jared doesn’t pull away.
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Date: 2011-06-14 06:29 am (UTC)