All Hands on Deck by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
callistosh65 for <user site="livejournal.c
Jun. 15th, 2012 03:13 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: All Hands on Deck
Pairing: Jared/Jensen, non AU
Rating: R
Any warnings: Passing reference to Danneel as a beard
Written bycallistosh65 for broompeople!
Jared is not entirely sure about this anymore. It all seemed like the perfect surprise in his head. But now that he’s here, the dogs look ridiculous, Jensen is conspicuously absent, and it is clearly way too early and cheesy for the oversized bottle of champagne he’s clutching.
“...like that matters. And screw you, I do so know what I’m doing.”
By the time Jensens’s head appears above deck, Jared has almost talked himself into turning tail and disappearing. Just leaving the dogs with post-its tucked into their collars. Then Jensen sees him.
“I have to go. Talk to you later. Yeah, enjoy Vegas, man.”
Jensen snaps the phone shut and just stands there, his head barely at deck level from whatever steps he was climbing up from. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” Jared fidgets. “Steve?”
“What? Oh. Yeah. He’s uh, he’s in Vegas this weekend.”
Jared knows this. And Jensen knows that he knows this. God...
Jared sighs, wanting to get this part over like a band-aid coming off. “Look, Jensen. I just—
He’s saved by a bark, which has Jensen coming the rest of the way up the stairs pretty fast. “Is that...?”
“Yeah, I thought... Well, I hoped you'd like...”
They’re both going nuts now, so he shuts up. Jensen jumps the short distance between his boat and the dock, and is immediately swarmed. Ollie, as ever, is the one doing the most jumping, while Icarus is busy yipping and trying to wag himself into a right angle.
Jensen looks up, and Jared relaxes at how suddenly happy he looks. “Dude, what did you do?”
“You like?”
“They’re fucking ridiculous. You did this?”
Jared has still got the leashes for both dogs in his hands, though he’s thinking of letting them go. He doubts Icarus will choose the ocean over Jensen.
“Yeah. Well, Danneel helped in that she didn’t tell you. I picked the jackets up this morning on my way in. You cannot believe how much I chased that one...” he gestured at Oscar, “...around your fucking garden.”
“But not Icky, huh?” Jensen’s got Icky up on his hind legs and is inspecting the clasps on the thing. All velcro, all done up tight, all a nightmare to get a wriggling super-happy ball of fur into.
“No, no. He stayed in one place and jumped a lot. Real helpful.”
“I bet.” They’re both still smiling, but when Jensen straightens, the dogs calm down and there’s nowhere else to look but each other. Jensen scratches the back of his neck, toes something imaginary on the deck, and Jared would really like Ollie to start barking again, the traitor.
“Listen, Jay—
“Jensen, I—
That works, and they’re smiling again. “Jesus,” says Jensen, shaking his head. He looks at the boat, the sky, the dogs, Jared. Jensen squints at him in the early morning sun. “Wanna come aboard?”
Jared should smile. He should. It’s the light ‘we’ll get past this, moron’ tone he was hoping for. He should really respond in kind and go see what they both spent so much money on. But the relief is making his eyes prickle, so all he can do is nod.
“Love to,” he says.
“Well okay, then.” Jensen squeezes Jared’s arm when he reaches to take Ollie’s leash, so Jared figures he’s at least on the path to being forgiven.
It doesn’t take long to do any kind of a tour. It’s basically two bedrooms and a kick-ass living area in the middle of them. An amazing dark blue wrap-around sofa hugs three sides of the entire space, which the dogs instantly appreciate.
“Of course,” says Jensen, waving his hand at where they're rubbing themselves along the back of it. “Bought just for you guys.”
The flat screen Jared ordered is there too, together with an eclectic mix of assorted games and DVDs scattered underneath. Jensen sees Jared looking at them and shrugs. “Reception comes and goes. Figured I could stomp your ass at Halo if things got dull.”
Jared nods, not really listening. He takes in the dark wood panelling, a wicked mini-bar-fridge combo, and the little round deep set windows which make him remember he’s on a boat. That and the slight sway under his feet.
He turns, knowing Jensen is watching him for his reaction.
“It’s... God, it’s awesome, Jensen. Really.”
"It is, isn’t it?” He lifts his chin toward the ceiling—deck?—whatever. “Wanna see the best part?”
“Sure,” says Jared, turning to follow Jensen up some freakishly steep steps. And if his hand finds Jensen’s ass on their way up, so be it.
The best part, of course, is the bridge – Jared loves calling it that – even if it’s got a teeny tiny black steering wheel and is all shiny white and decked out with a small fortune in electronic gadgetry. Jensen takes him through it all, but Jared does not share Jensen’s addiction to all things latest and shiniest.
Jared stares at the tiny black steering wheel instead. “You couldn’t get a big round wooden one we could swizzle?”
Jensen smacks him across the back of the head, even as he’s laughing. It takes Jared by surprise because honestly, he thought he had a lot more grovelling to do to get them to this point.
Jensen pulls back, just a little, his eyes searching Jared’s face. “What do you say we pull up anchor and head out for a while?”
“You know where to point this thing?”
Jensen pats his cheek. “Don’t I always?”
The open sea is fun. They don’t go far but they go fast, which is about the best reason to have a boat, as far as Jared is concerned. It’s all to do with permits and licences Jensen doesn’t have yet and Jared is not really listening again. They drop anchor – which, yeah, yet another electronic disappointment. (“Dude, is there nothing to wind by hand on this damn thing?”). The dogs are safely battened in and dead to the world on the sofa. He and Jensen are side by side on a couple of low-slung chairs with their feet up on the back railings as she rocks gently in the sunshine. They’re slowly emptying a cooler between them, talking about anything and everything and all the while, beautifully ignoring the elephant squished up between them.
On beer number six, Jared, whose inability to just shut the hell up is basically why they’re here, can ignore it no more.
Jensen is hand-waving and describing something he overheard on his flight. Jared is too busy psyching himself up to really pay attention.
“...and this guy is like, an easy fifty pounds heavier than her, and she’s having none of it. Starts whaling on him, right there in the...um, Jared?”
Jared’s heart is a hammering, but it’s now or never because, he’s launched himself off his chair and is now in an awkward sprawl at Jensen’s feet. He leans up and in, locking his arms tight around Jensen’s shoulders and pressing their temples together.
Jensen’s arms stay worryingly at his side. So Jared has no choice but to take a deep breath and get this all out. Then maybe Jensen can throw him overboard and they can go from there.
“You gotta not give up on me, Jensen. I know I get really fucking stupid about things when I’m stressed. And I know it drives you crazy that I...that I want out out. With you. Right the fuck now.”
Jared feels Jensen’s entire body stiffen. “I don’t want to have this conversation again.”
“Yeah, but this time I won’t be yelling at you and tearing a script up.”
There’s a long, long pause. Jensen’s hand comes up to lightly rub a circle on Jared's shoulder. Then it drops, and Jensen struggles a little. Jared reluctantly eases up and back on his heels, but he doesn’t move very far. Jensen considers him.
“That was seriously one of the most dickish things you’ve ever done, Jared.”
“I know.” And he does, he does.
“Throwing a script in my face when writers are in the room? And when there’s all kinds of media out in the fucking hallways.”
“I know, I know. And I didn’t mean the stuff I said about the show, Jensen. God, the best years of my life have been playing Sam and Dean with you.”
Jensen bites his lip, looks away. “You made me feel like I was on my own in that room, Jared. For the first time. Like you could throw it out and walk away.”
Jared grabs at Jensen’s hands. “Not you, Jensen. Fuck...” He leans in until their foreheads touch. “Never you. Maybe Sam sometimes, but never you.”
“Jared—
“No! I mean it... I’m an idiot, but I know what I want and I will stay in the fucking closet till Sam and Dean are in walkers if it means you’ll believe me.”
Jensen pulls back, frames Jared’s face in his hands. His eyes are bright. “You’re telling me you’re okay never being the next Wolverine? Or an Avenger? Or the twentieth Batman’s supervillian? I know you’ve had offers you can’t do and don’t tell me about. I never want to stop you from going for any of that, Jared. Ever.”
“I know you don't,” says Jared, risking a smile. “And it’s okay if that never happens. Maybe two years ago, it wasn’t. But now it is.” It really is that clear cut for Jared. It’s making Jensen believe it that’s the problem. “Besides, you think they’d let us make out on the red carpet *and* give me a superpower? Screw ’em, Jensen.”
Jensen’s gaze softens. “You sure about that? You don’t get to make out with me on the red carpet now.”
“Yeah, but I get to play Sam and watch you play Dean. It’s enough, Jensen. More than.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Truly. And hell, when we come out after we’re done in Canada, you never know, Hollywood might still ask me to take my clothes off, kiss the girl, and save the world. ”
“Like Matt Bomer,” says Jensen, finally playing along as he leans down to snap the cooler closed. Jared rocks all the way back on his heels, working out the kinks as he stretches and stands, hauling Jensen upright with him.
Jared points his half empty beer bottle at Jensen. He’s not sure if the beer or the boat is making him sway. “Exactly! Like Matt Bomer.” He hiccups happily. “Didn’t he just play, like, a stripper or something? That would be so fucking cool.”
“Yeah, but he can sing and dance, Jared.”
“Shut up. I can learn.” He grabs Jensen’s wrist, knows he’s going to say something very sappy but can’t stop himself. “I can learn anything. For you. Y’know, for us.”
It holds. Right up until Jensen doubles over and Jared hears what he actually said.
“You fucker... Jensen! Stop laughing, you ass. Just. Fine, fine. See if I’m ever romantic again.”
But he is. About ten minutes later when their clothes are off and he’s kissed Jensen boneless on some thousand thread count bed sheets.
He raises up on an elbow, watches Jensen writhe as he presses a finger in. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”
Jensen gets an eye open, pauses. “How...how long you been sitting on that one?”
Jared grins. “Since 5 o’clock this morning. And I have champagne to break across your bow, too.”
Jensen groans, whether at the awful joke or because Jared just added a second finger, Jared can’t tell.
Jensen pulls Jared in for a tongue-dirty kiss. “Permission... fucking granted. Always, Jay. Fucking always.”
Jared *loves* the new things they'll get to say to each other in bed now.
Pairing: Jared/Jensen, non AU
Rating: R
Any warnings: Passing reference to Danneel as a beard
Written by
callistosh65 for broompeople!Jared is not entirely sure about this anymore. It all seemed like the perfect surprise in his head. But now that he’s here, the dogs look ridiculous, Jensen is conspicuously absent, and it is clearly way too early and cheesy for the oversized bottle of champagne he’s clutching.
“...like that matters. And screw you, I do so know what I’m doing.”
By the time Jensens’s head appears above deck, Jared has almost talked himself into turning tail and disappearing. Just leaving the dogs with post-its tucked into their collars. Then Jensen sees him.
“I have to go. Talk to you later. Yeah, enjoy Vegas, man.”
Jensen snaps the phone shut and just stands there, his head barely at deck level from whatever steps he was climbing up from. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” Jared fidgets. “Steve?”
“What? Oh. Yeah. He’s uh, he’s in Vegas this weekend.”
Jared knows this. And Jensen knows that he knows this. God...
Jared sighs, wanting to get this part over like a band-aid coming off. “Look, Jensen. I just—
He’s saved by a bark, which has Jensen coming the rest of the way up the stairs pretty fast. “Is that...?”
“Yeah, I thought... Well, I hoped you'd like...”
They’re both going nuts now, so he shuts up. Jensen jumps the short distance between his boat and the dock, and is immediately swarmed. Ollie, as ever, is the one doing the most jumping, while Icarus is busy yipping and trying to wag himself into a right angle.
Jensen looks up, and Jared relaxes at how suddenly happy he looks. “Dude, what did you do?”
“You like?”
“They’re fucking ridiculous. You did this?”
Jared has still got the leashes for both dogs in his hands, though he’s thinking of letting them go. He doubts Icarus will choose the ocean over Jensen.
“Yeah. Well, Danneel helped in that she didn’t tell you. I picked the jackets up this morning on my way in. You cannot believe how much I chased that one...” he gestured at Oscar, “...around your fucking garden.”
“But not Icky, huh?” Jensen’s got Icky up on his hind legs and is inspecting the clasps on the thing. All velcro, all done up tight, all a nightmare to get a wriggling super-happy ball of fur into.
“No, no. He stayed in one place and jumped a lot. Real helpful.”
“I bet.” They’re both still smiling, but when Jensen straightens, the dogs calm down and there’s nowhere else to look but each other. Jensen scratches the back of his neck, toes something imaginary on the deck, and Jared would really like Ollie to start barking again, the traitor.
“Listen, Jay—
“Jensen, I—
That works, and they’re smiling again. “Jesus,” says Jensen, shaking his head. He looks at the boat, the sky, the dogs, Jared. Jensen squints at him in the early morning sun. “Wanna come aboard?”
Jared should smile. He should. It’s the light ‘we’ll get past this, moron’ tone he was hoping for. He should really respond in kind and go see what they both spent so much money on. But the relief is making his eyes prickle, so all he can do is nod.
“Love to,” he says.
“Well okay, then.” Jensen squeezes Jared’s arm when he reaches to take Ollie’s leash, so Jared figures he’s at least on the path to being forgiven.
It doesn’t take long to do any kind of a tour. It’s basically two bedrooms and a kick-ass living area in the middle of them. An amazing dark blue wrap-around sofa hugs three sides of the entire space, which the dogs instantly appreciate.
“Of course,” says Jensen, waving his hand at where they're rubbing themselves along the back of it. “Bought just for you guys.”
The flat screen Jared ordered is there too, together with an eclectic mix of assorted games and DVDs scattered underneath. Jensen sees Jared looking at them and shrugs. “Reception comes and goes. Figured I could stomp your ass at Halo if things got dull.”
Jared nods, not really listening. He takes in the dark wood panelling, a wicked mini-bar-fridge combo, and the little round deep set windows which make him remember he’s on a boat. That and the slight sway under his feet.
He turns, knowing Jensen is watching him for his reaction.
“It’s... God, it’s awesome, Jensen. Really.”
"It is, isn’t it?” He lifts his chin toward the ceiling—deck?—whatever. “Wanna see the best part?”
“Sure,” says Jared, turning to follow Jensen up some freakishly steep steps. And if his hand finds Jensen’s ass on their way up, so be it.
The best part, of course, is the bridge – Jared loves calling it that – even if it’s got a teeny tiny black steering wheel and is all shiny white and decked out with a small fortune in electronic gadgetry. Jensen takes him through it all, but Jared does not share Jensen’s addiction to all things latest and shiniest.
Jared stares at the tiny black steering wheel instead. “You couldn’t get a big round wooden one we could swizzle?”
Jensen smacks him across the back of the head, even as he’s laughing. It takes Jared by surprise because honestly, he thought he had a lot more grovelling to do to get them to this point.
Jensen pulls back, just a little, his eyes searching Jared’s face. “What do you say we pull up anchor and head out for a while?”
“You know where to point this thing?”
Jensen pats his cheek. “Don’t I always?”
The open sea is fun. They don’t go far but they go fast, which is about the best reason to have a boat, as far as Jared is concerned. It’s all to do with permits and licences Jensen doesn’t have yet and Jared is not really listening again. They drop anchor – which, yeah, yet another electronic disappointment. (“Dude, is there nothing to wind by hand on this damn thing?”). The dogs are safely battened in and dead to the world on the sofa. He and Jensen are side by side on a couple of low-slung chairs with their feet up on the back railings as she rocks gently in the sunshine. They’re slowly emptying a cooler between them, talking about anything and everything and all the while, beautifully ignoring the elephant squished up between them.
On beer number six, Jared, whose inability to just shut the hell up is basically why they’re here, can ignore it no more.
Jensen is hand-waving and describing something he overheard on his flight. Jared is too busy psyching himself up to really pay attention.
“...and this guy is like, an easy fifty pounds heavier than her, and she’s having none of it. Starts whaling on him, right there in the...um, Jared?”
Jared’s heart is a hammering, but it’s now or never because, he’s launched himself off his chair and is now in an awkward sprawl at Jensen’s feet. He leans up and in, locking his arms tight around Jensen’s shoulders and pressing their temples together.
Jensen’s arms stay worryingly at his side. So Jared has no choice but to take a deep breath and get this all out. Then maybe Jensen can throw him overboard and they can go from there.
“You gotta not give up on me, Jensen. I know I get really fucking stupid about things when I’m stressed. And I know it drives you crazy that I...that I want out out. With you. Right the fuck now.”
Jared feels Jensen’s entire body stiffen. “I don’t want to have this conversation again.”
“Yeah, but this time I won’t be yelling at you and tearing a script up.”
There’s a long, long pause. Jensen’s hand comes up to lightly rub a circle on Jared's shoulder. Then it drops, and Jensen struggles a little. Jared reluctantly eases up and back on his heels, but he doesn’t move very far. Jensen considers him.
“That was seriously one of the most dickish things you’ve ever done, Jared.”
“I know.” And he does, he does.
“Throwing a script in my face when writers are in the room? And when there’s all kinds of media out in the fucking hallways.”
“I know, I know. And I didn’t mean the stuff I said about the show, Jensen. God, the best years of my life have been playing Sam and Dean with you.”
Jensen bites his lip, looks away. “You made me feel like I was on my own in that room, Jared. For the first time. Like you could throw it out and walk away.”
Jared grabs at Jensen’s hands. “Not you, Jensen. Fuck...” He leans in until their foreheads touch. “Never you. Maybe Sam sometimes, but never you.”
“Jared—
“No! I mean it... I’m an idiot, but I know what I want and I will stay in the fucking closet till Sam and Dean are in walkers if it means you’ll believe me.”
Jensen pulls back, frames Jared’s face in his hands. His eyes are bright. “You’re telling me you’re okay never being the next Wolverine? Or an Avenger? Or the twentieth Batman’s supervillian? I know you’ve had offers you can’t do and don’t tell me about. I never want to stop you from going for any of that, Jared. Ever.”
“I know you don't,” says Jared, risking a smile. “And it’s okay if that never happens. Maybe two years ago, it wasn’t. But now it is.” It really is that clear cut for Jared. It’s making Jensen believe it that’s the problem. “Besides, you think they’d let us make out on the red carpet *and* give me a superpower? Screw ’em, Jensen.”
Jensen’s gaze softens. “You sure about that? You don’t get to make out with me on the red carpet now.”
“Yeah, but I get to play Sam and watch you play Dean. It’s enough, Jensen. More than.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Truly. And hell, when we come out after we’re done in Canada, you never know, Hollywood might still ask me to take my clothes off, kiss the girl, and save the world. ”
“Like Matt Bomer,” says Jensen, finally playing along as he leans down to snap the cooler closed. Jared rocks all the way back on his heels, working out the kinks as he stretches and stands, hauling Jensen upright with him.
Jared points his half empty beer bottle at Jensen. He’s not sure if the beer or the boat is making him sway. “Exactly! Like Matt Bomer.” He hiccups happily. “Didn’t he just play, like, a stripper or something? That would be so fucking cool.”
“Yeah, but he can sing and dance, Jared.”
“Shut up. I can learn.” He grabs Jensen’s wrist, knows he’s going to say something very sappy but can’t stop himself. “I can learn anything. For you. Y’know, for us.”
It holds. Right up until Jensen doubles over and Jared hears what he actually said.
“You fucker... Jensen! Stop laughing, you ass. Just. Fine, fine. See if I’m ever romantic again.”
But he is. About ten minutes later when their clothes are off and he’s kissed Jensen boneless on some thousand thread count bed sheets.
He raises up on an elbow, watches Jensen writhe as he presses a finger in. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”
Jensen gets an eye open, pauses. “How...how long you been sitting on that one?”
Jared grins. “Since 5 o’clock this morning. And I have champagne to break across your bow, too.”
Jensen groans, whether at the awful joke or because Jared just added a second finger, Jared can’t tell.
Jensen pulls Jared in for a tongue-dirty kiss. “Permission... fucking granted. Always, Jay. Fucking always.”
Jared *loves* the new things they'll get to say to each other in bed now.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-06-15 02:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-23 04:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-15 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-23 04:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-15 07:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-23 04:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-16 04:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-23 04:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-20 09:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-23 04:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-22 09:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-23 04:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 08:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-26 08:29 am (UTC)