Disclaimer Comment Fic

[raeschae]

Okay, so I'm about to get ready to head to work, but I wanted to let you all know that the next installment in the Disclaimer Verse is coming. I'll post it on Monday, and I'm saving it for reasons you will find out on that day.

In the meantime, I'm itching to write something short and sweet . . . Last time I offered up comment fic, it wasn't that specific, but this time, I really wanna write some short Disclaimer. Conversations, snippets, nothing over 1,000 words. I'm going to try to keep them to 500. So don't prompt me with something epic, but if there's a short little something you'd like to see, let me know and I'll try to get it up in the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours, depending on the demand.

I don't put time limits on most of these posts, but this one will close on Sunday, April 11.

OH, and just so you know, it doesn't have to be J2. I'll write anyone in the Disclaimer Verse.

ETA: As much fun as this has been (and it really has been awesome!), this meme is now closed. Under the cut, you will find links to 23 individual threads - that's twenty-frickin'-three Disclaimer time stamps. Insanity. You guys astound me with your love for these boys, and I was surprised and overwhelmed to see which parts of their lives stick with you, and which ones you want to know more about.

Thanks to everyone who left a prompt, and to those of you who left other comments, after they were written. Y'all never cease to leave me speechless.



1. Jensen is injured and can't dye his own hair. - for witchy78

2. Brayden's first disasterous attempt to trick out his bike. - for vamphile

3. Jared and Chad hanging out and being BFF's. - for plastacine_star

4. Jared being jealous/possessive while clueless Jensen gets hit on. - for ellyk29

5. Jensen meets Mike before he buys Ollie. - for live_laugh_love

6. future!fic: Brayden getting married. - for chekiita

7. An intervention. - for nightporters

8. Jensen dragging Jared to a concert. - for akadougal

9. Brayden's friend hits on Jensen. Jared is possessive. - for krisd81

10. Jared and Jensen's first anniversary tattoo. - for lasvegas_lights (and several others)

11. Jared finds Jensen contemplating life at Ollie. - for nickgregfan

12. Brayden and Demi schmoop. - for taintedlove

13. Jensen missing Jared while Jared is away on business. - for kubis

14. Chris/Danneel/Steve the morning after a hook up. - for kskitten

15. Brayden has trouble asking the guys for something he needs. - for sothcweden

16. Jensen watches Jared shave in the morning. - for kissesxobecki

17. Femslash, of the Katie/Genevieve variety. - for kiwiana

18. Jared sustains a minor injury, and doesn't tell Jensen. - for naranga

19. Brayden asks Sophia for advice on girls. - for gemini8

20. The night after the morning after the prequel. - for jesseofthenorth

21. Jared wants Jensen to make an appearance on the last episode of his show. - for stellarluna35

22. Jensen's mom is a total fangirl for Slinging Ink. - for plasticine_star

23. Jared talks about his tattoos. - for bellaaurora

Comments

[witchy78.livejournal.com]

Heeeeeeeee here is my chance !!!
I wanted my hurt!jensen unable to move his arm but wanting to change the color of his hair !!! lol !! I want Jared to do that for him ;o) So cute !! (it might not fit in 500 words ! lol)

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

“You want me to what?” Jared didn't know it was possible for his eyebrows to shoot quite so high. But this is so ridiculous, it warrants his best effort.

Jensen looks at him, face a mixture of pathetic pouting and frustrated . . . frustration. “Come on, man. I was gonna do it, but now I can't.” He holds his arm up, as though Jared maybe forgot about the last four hours in the emergency room.

“Maybe you shoulda thought of that before you hit the pipe. In the fucking rain. Idiot.”

If Jensen didn't injure himself somehow every other week, Jared might be a little more concerned. Sure, a broken arm is a little more serious than shredding the skin on his elbow. But it's not a coma, which is Jared's standard for bad now, so he considers this fracture minor.

Jensen looks at him like he's being ridiculous. “If I didn't do it, how would the children learn, Jay?”

“Right,” Jared nods his head, and categorically ignores the tube of Manic Panic Jensen keeps shoving in his direction. “Because your mission in life is to teach the children. How did I forget that?”

“Dude, are you gonna dye my fuckin' hair for me or not?”

“Seriously? What, are we twelve-year-old girls? Dye your own goddamn hair.” In all fairness, he's purchased eyeliner and nail polish for his boyfriend, but a man's gotta draw the line somewhere, and Jared's choosing Jensen's hair products as that hard limit.

Jensen slumps back on the bed and cringes when his elbow bumps the pillow behind him. He took a pain pill when he got home, but it hasn't started kicking in just yet. “Fuck it,” he mutters, rolling off the bed and heading out the door.

Jared would let him go, if Jensen wasn't gritting things about not needing this stupid fucking thing and doing it my damn self through clenched teeth down the hall and onto the stairs.

By the time Jared finds him in the kitchen, he's leaning heavily against the counter, left arm and cast pressed flat against the marble top while he grips a butcher knife in his right hand.

“The fuck you think you're doin'?” Jared asks sharply, yanking the knife away and holding it over Jensen's head. He's getting woozy enough to sway a little when he lunges for it, but Jared manages to catch him against his chest and drop the knife into the sink behind Jensen.

Jensen's gaze is kind of hazy when he meets Jared's eye. “Six fuckin' weeks, man. Gonna look fuckin' normal by then. Just like everybody else.”

There's not really a chance in hell Jensen's ever gonna look like everybody else. Even if his hair was natural, and he lost the piercings. If he managed to cover his tats and wearing a fucking business suit, he'd still be hotter than any human being has a right to be.

“Please, Jay?”

His words are starting to slur, a clear indication that the meds are kicking in, and that they're stronger than anything Jensen's used to. “Alright, I'll do it,” he concedes as Jensen's weight grows heavier against his arm. “If you still remember this when you wake,” he stops mid-sentence, and deposited Jensen on the family room couch. “What am I saying? Of course you're gonna remember. It's your hair.”

The only two people in the world who care more about their locks than Jensen are Jared and Brayden. Jensen likes to call them his giant girls when they mention their own. And that thought makes Jared laugh a little.

[vamphile.livejournal.com]

i want Brayden's first disastrous attempt to trick out his bike... and the boys mocking.

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

It's three in the morning by the time Jensen drags himself out of his office and up the stairs. The new line he's working on for Roxy is turning out well, but it's taking more time than he expected. He's done tee shirts and hoodies for girls a thousand times with the Ollie line, but surf gear is more fitted and it's throwing him for a bit of a loop.

If he passes the bedroom door, it's an innocent mistake. It's not like he's lived here for five years or anything. He's absolutely not checking on Brayden before he heads to bed.

But Brayden's not in his room. His bed is untouched. Well, as untouched as it was this morning when he got out of it.

Jared's playing around with some app on his phone when Jensen pops his head into their room. “Any idea where our kid is?”

With a shrug, Jared tears his eyes from the screen. “Last time I checked, he was in the garage.”

“When's the last time you checked?”

“Ten? Eleven? Hell, I don't know. Didn't know it was my night to babysit.”

“Every night is your night to baby sit. He's your kid, dick face,” Jensen shoots, heading back down the stairs. It only takes a second for Jared's heavy steps to fall in behind him.

Sure enough, Brayden is in the garage, a million tiny parts and pieces surrounding him and grease smeared from one corner of his forehead to the other. “Hey,” he smiles. Sort of. It's kind of a half-smile that looks more pleading than anything.

“The fuck did you do?” Jared asks, kicking something by simply walking past it.

“I'm trickin' her out,” he exclaims, and it would be proud if he didn't look like he was about to throw up.

“Who?” Jensen asks, brain trying to make sense of the mess he's standing in the middle of at the moment. When his eyes snag the gas tank, he turns to find Brayden staring at the floor with a sheepish grin. “This is your bike? That we spent thousands of dollars on? The one that we paid extra thousands of dollars to get already tricked out?”

“It didn't meet my . . . specifications.”

[plasticine-star.livejournal.com]

*rubs hands in anticipation*

I have a big presentation on Monday so, freak that I am I just added "check LJ for Disclaimer!fic" to my calendar.

Let's see, how about:
Jared/Chad hanging out by themselves being BFFs.
Jared doing one of Jen's tattoos.

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

You're the first time I've gotten to use my new Chad icon! I'm very excited!
*-*
“Thought you weren’t supposed to put your feet up there.”

Chad shoots Jared a look out the corner of his eye. “My damn house. Put my feet wherever the fuck I want ‘em.”

“Big talk for a guy who’s wife isn’t home.”

“You come over here to watch football or mock me for my domestic . . . fi . . . cicity.”

“Domestication? Domesticity? Both words. Domestic-ficicity is not.” Jared cracks a smile and settles back on the couch, kicking Chad’s ankle and causing his boot to fall from the custom coffee table Sophia just commissioned from a friend in New Mexico a few months ago.

“I hate you,” Chad answers, reaching into the cooler he slid up next to the couch before kick off.

So he’s not allowed to eat on the living room furniture when Sophia’s home. Or put his feet on the coffee table. Or burp without saying ‘excuse me.’ Sophia’s not here now. She’s in Palm Springs, visiting her parents, and what she doesn’t know isn’t gonna hurt her.

He’s a grown ass man, after all, and if he wants to put his damn feet up after a long day at work, kick back with a few cold ones and his best friend in the world? In the house he pays the mortgage on? He’ll damn well put his feet up with his best friend and drink a beer on the fucking couch.

“Is that a,” Jared stops and cranes his neck in the direction of the kitchen. “Was that an engine, man? I thought you said she wasn’t gonna be home until later.”

Chad rolls his eyes, but his feet hit the floor. Fast. When he realizes that Jared’s chuckling into his beer bottle, he leans over on the couch and sinks a fist into his bicep. “You’re a fucking asshole bastard. You know that, right?”

With a simple shrug, Jared crosses his ankle over his knee and settles back into the plush fabric of the sofa. “You’re the one who can do what he wants in his own fuckin’ house.”

The knock at the front door doesn’t spook Chad, no matter what Jared says. When he returns to the living room with pizza boxes, Jared is checking his phone. “Dude, seriously? You’re gonna roll up in my house and bust on me for bein’ a bitch when you can’t be away from your wife for thirty seconds without sendin’ a dirty text message?”

“Oh, dude, whatever,” Jared rolls his eyes and catches the paper plate Chad smacks against his chest. “It’s not even like that.”

[ellyk29.livejournal.com]

Oh, the possibilities. How about a jealous/possessive Jared re: Jensen being hit on... and clueless.

[ellyk29.livejournal.com]

Oh the possibilities... how about a jealous/possessive Jared re: a clueless Jensen being hit on.

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

I'm not entirely sure this is what you were lookin' for - I hope it works, though. Also, make sure you expand the second part at the bottom . . . The page is getting kind of full. ;)
*-*
When the bell over the door dings at Ollie, Danneel looks up with a bright smile. “Hey, Jay,” she greets, ink pen tapping against the counter. “You can't go in there,” she informs him when he tries to enter Jensen's office.

“Why?”

“He's in a meeting.”

“With who?”

“Promise you won't hulk out and, like, break a display case or something?”

Jared shakes his head. “Why would I do that?”

“'Cause he's with that guy from ESPN that you hate?” She smiles sheepishly, as though she's done something wrong.

He really does hate that guy. And he doesn't even know why. Just knows he's got a weird feeling in his gut. And his gut's rarely wrong.

“Tom in there with him?” Danneel nods and scoots over as Jared rounds the corner and bends to lean on the counter next to her. “I'm waitin' here.”

She nods again, like she already saw it coming. “Want a Red Bull or something?”

Shaking his head, Jared tries to watch the kids skating outside the window because it's better for his blood pressure than trying to see Jensen through the tiny window of his office door. “How long they been in there?”

With a shrug, Danneel looks at her watch and says, “Soph busy today?” She pointedly looks at Jared and then back to the magazine in front of her. “I'm thinkin' of gettin' somethin' new. Like this,” she holds it up, the picture of a shot glass and a guitar, for Jared's perusal.

He chuckles. “You're so transparent.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Where do I start? With your attempt to distract me from the fucker in the other room tryin' to nail my boyfriend? Or the tat that totally screams of your boyfriend?” Danneel opens her mouth and Jared rolls his eyes. “Everybody fuckin' knows, man. Stop tryin' to act like y'all can hide for shit anymore.”

With a soft pout, Danneel closes her magazine and leans forward on her elbows. “He's been in there for about forty-five minutes. Tom and Mike are both in there, too. Would you chill the fuck out? You're makin' me sweat.”

She's not the only one sweating.

[live-laugh-love.livejournal.com]

how the boys found the house in TJ

Jensen meeting Mike before he bought the park (for some reason I really like Mike. REALLY like him.)

Jared inking Jensen for one of their anniversaries.

ETA - YAY for new fic!!! I've made a note on my calendar to look for it!

Part 1/2

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

Jensen's excited, and only slightly freaked out. But that's to be expected, right? This is huge, after all. This is his entire life in one tiny package. And by tiny he means 7500 square feet.

It's the most pitiful looking building Jensen's ever seen, and the “park” that supposedly comes with the deal is nothing more than cracked cement and overgrown weeds. It has potential, but it needs a ton of fucking work.

This is, quite possibly, the worst idea he's ever had.

Hands stuffed deep into his pockets, Jensen makes his way through the old, broken down to park to the pro shop that's, hopefully, seen better days. The door is a ajar, and for a moment, he stops to wonder if this is even worth it. Is it going to be worth what it costs to make it operational again?

A sound from the back of the store startles him, and Jensen, like a girl in a horror movie, walks cautiously in that direction. If a masked psycho killer jumps out and stabs him in the throat or something, he figures he deserves it for this stunt.

But it's not a murderer in the back room. Instead, flooded by the dusty, filtered light pouring through the dirt on the windows, he sees the silhouette of a man sagging against the wall, hands fisted into the hair of the guy on knees. Jensen is grateful for the shit lighting because there are things he doesn't have to see in detail to understand fully.

He's not exactly sure what to do, but he has a meeting, and a dream, and he's starting to formulate a plan for this place. Also, it's not like he's never heard two guys fuckin' around before, is it? So he wanders around the main room, considering possible display locations, and wall colors. A mural there and a rack for hats and decals there.

By the time he hears a whispered 'Fuck' behind him, Jensen has the place pretty well laid out in his head.

Turning on his heel, he wonders who's more shocked to see the pair standing before him. “Tom?”

Tom Welling, the Controller from Element is staring back at him with his hands in his hair and a horrified, nauseated look on his face. “Uh, Jensen, I can,” he stammers and takes a step away from the shorter guy at his side. “Um, I was just . . . helping Mike do an . . . inspection.”

With a shake of his head, Jensen just smiles and takes a step forward. “Dude, I'm just here to buy a park.” He extends a hand to the guy he assumes is Mike. “I'm Jensen Ackles.”

Mike's face lights up as he vigorously shakes Jensen's hand. “Sorry. I kinda lost track of time.” He doesn't blush like he's embarrassed, but he does cringe a little when Tom makes the hastiest, most awkward, exit in the history of hasty, awkward exits. “He's, uh,” Mike smiles, but it's not as bright as the grin he shot Jensen just a second ago. “He's a little straight.”

Jensen's known Tom for awhile, so that statement makes him laugh a little bit. “He's really not. He's just a little married. He'll figure it out eventually.”

There's a hopeful glimmer in Mike's eye, but he just clears his throat and rubs his hands together. “Alright, well, I know she doesn't look like much now, but welcome to Ollie.” Arms thrown wide, Mike watches Jensen closely as he takes another minute to look around. “Little TLC, and she could be epic again, man. I can feel it.”

Turning back, Jensen nods his head. “There's definite potential.”

[chekiita.livejournal.com]

Yay, how about some futurefic? something like Brayden's getting married and Jensen/jared's freaking out... or maybe the boys as granddaddy's..

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

He’s staring out the window, pensive, when the door behind him cracks open. When he turns, he braces himself for the onslaught.

Jensen looks miserable, yanking at the tie around his neck like it’s trying to squeeze the life from him, and mumbling something unintelligible under his breath.

“Ya alright there, Jen?” Brayden smiles.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” Jensen shakes his head, because he is not, in fact, alright. “Not my goddamn wedding. Why I gotta wear this bull shit get up?”

Brayden rolls his eyes. “Because I don’t get laid, like ever again, if any of us fucks this day up.”

There’s really not a trio on the planet more uncomfortable in tuxedos than the three men in this family. If they make it through the ceremony unscathed, it’s going to be a minor miracle.

Cutting his eyes to left, Brayden notices that Jared is watching him with a weird glint in his eye. There’s emotion, and if Brayden didn’t know him, he might mistake that moisture in his eyes for tears. “You alright, man?”

Wordlessly, Jared steps forward and rests his palm against Brayden’s cheek. It’s strangely intimate and wholly uncomfortable. Also, this is Jared. Padalecki. The master of the stoic stare.

“Dude, what is wrong with . . . are you high?” Turning to Jensen, Brayden’s eyes nearly double in size. “Did you let him get fucking high before my wedding?”

“He’s not high,” Jensen assures him with a roll of his eyes. “Jesus, man, untwist your panties.”

“Bray, man, you look so,” Jared’s voice cracks a little toward the end and he sniffles, “just so fucking . . . ridiculous.” The emotion on his face fades into a blinding grin of pure amusement as he smacks Brayden’s cheek and laughs.

“Man, get off me. . . Asshole.” Brayden rubs his cheek as he pushes Jared away.

“Oh, come on. Look at you!” Jared leans back against the wall, long legs bent at the knees as he continues to consider Brayden’s tuxedo. “Look like you’re in some fuckin’ high school show choir. It’s hilarious.”

“Fuck you,” Brayden flips him off and shakes his head. Because, even if Jared’s right, he’s not going to admit it. “Least I don’t look like a motherfuckin’ game show host.”

They’re interrupted by Jensen making gagging noises off to Brayden’s right. “Dude, is this supposed to dig into my fucking wind pipe?” With an angry huff, he gives up pulling on the collar and balls his fists at his sides. “Why couldn’t you be fuckin’ anti-marriage? Or, I don’t know, a lesbian?”

“Hey,” Brayden counters, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to make the tux more comfortable. It’s not going to work. Nothing is, but he can try. “I’m as anti-marriage as y’all raised me to be. Not my fault I fell for a girl who want to do this the “right” way. Tried like hell not to, man.”

They all know that Brayden’s not exaggerating. He did everything he could not to fall for this girl, this hard, this way. She’s a force of nature, though, and eventually, he learned the same lesson his dads did: When it’s right, and you know it’s right, you’re an idiot if you try to fight it.

“Bray?” Jensen asks and Brayden turns his head with his eyebrows raised. “You even bother askin’ her if we could wear somethin’ a little more comfortable? Or did you just roll over and let her have this one?”

Brayden shrugs his shoulders. “Dude, I’m not the one that’s been dreaming of my perfect, fairy tale wedding since I was six. This is what she wants.” It’s uncomfortable, he looks like a giant nerd, and it’s not like any of them would choose this. But that’s so not the point today. “You’re the ones that taught me there’s no price too high for the people you fuckin’ love, right?”

Jensen’s hand finds Brayden’s shoulder this time, and when he turns his head, his dad just nods. “You turned out okay, Kid.”

Brayden shrugs easily, and Jared adds, “Still look like a kid at his first middle school dance, but you turned out alright.”

“Dude, he did not look that dorky at his first middle school dance.”

The fact that they know exactly how he looked at his first dance, that they’ve been around now longer than they weren’t, means something to Brayden. Not something he’s going to say out loud or anything, but something.

[nightporters.livejournal.com]

An intervention by their friends.

[vamphile.livejournal.com]

I've been staring at this all afternoon. For what behavior do those boys need an intervention? I'm just curious, they barely drink and don't do any drugs. huh. I think i'm lost.

[akadougal.livejournal.com]

Jensen dragging Jared along to a concert.

Part 1/2

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

Jensen's been gone for six days, and Jared's trying really fucking hard not to be an excited little puppy at the thought of his boyfriend returning home after less than a week. He's not co-dependent. He can exist without Jensen. He just doesn't like to all that much.

He's just come up from the gym in the basement, and he's draining a bottle of water by the open refrigerator, when he hears the rumble of an engine in the garage. He's definitely not waiting by the door for the first glimpse of huge, black-lined green eyes or anything. That would be ridiculous.

So he forces himself to hold his ground when Jensen pushes the door open and tosses his suitcase in before pulling the door closed behind him. Of course, when their eyes meet, there's not really a force strong enough to keep him in his place.

Jensen's wrapped around him in about three seconds, and their tongues are so far down each other's throats, they may never get them untangled and back into their own mouths again. Neither of them is complaining as Jensen backs Jared up to the island and tries to fucking climb him.

“Dammit, you look good,” Jensen sighs when Jared's mouth moves from his to his jaw and then down to his neck. “Feel good. Fuckin' missed you.”

Jared just grunts and starts working his fingers against Jensen's belt buckle. “Got all fuckin' night to make up for it,” he manages to mumble against Jensen's favorite spot, just below his ear.

“I'll come home early,” Jensen gasps as Jared's hand plunges into his pants and wraps securely around his rapidly hardening dick.

And then Jared stops moving. Pulls back with his brow raised. “The fuck you think you're goin'? You just got home.”

Jensen rolls his eyes, like he's told Jared about this already. He might have, but when they're apart for too many days, Jared stops hearing words and just falls into a space of listening to the sound of Jensen's voice against his ear on the telephone. It's not his fault – Jensen's got an awesome voice.

“Me, Mikey, and Katie are goin' to that concert tonight.”

“What concert?”

“Dashboard. At The Coffee Bar. I told you about this. And you said, if I remember correctly, that you could stay home and cry in your coffee if you wanted to. Sure as fuck didn't need to do it in public.”

Oh, that’s right. He did say that. Because Jensen’s got pretty decent taste in music most of the time, but he also likes that fuckin’ wrist-slitting acoustic stuff that makes Jared wish he was dead. Not because it’s so emotional or whatever, but because death seems better than listening to a grown man complain that damn much.

[krisd81.livejournal.com]

I DO NOT CARE FOR YOUR REASONS. GIMME FIC NOW! ♥

I'm horrible at prompts but um... Bray's friend hits on one of the boys. The other one has a blast (and is maybe a wee bit possessive.)

Part 1/2

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

WHY DON'T YOU TAKE THIS TIME TO WRITE YOU OWN FIC? HM?
*-*
“You ever seen your life flash before your eyes? It's not pretty.”

Jared snorts and Jensen thinks he might choke on his Thai food. “Your entire life, huh?” Jensen asks, eyes lifting to see Brayden and his best friend, Jordan, sitting side by side on the other side of the island. “What'd that take? Four seconds?”

“I swear, someday you're actually gonna be as funny as you think you are,” Brayden shoots back, shaking his head until his blond hair swirls around his face like a curtain. “Anyway, I was walkin' through the cafeteria during lunch, right? And I look at Kaley Whitaker's table,” his eyes cut to Jordan, who just nods, “and I realize that, of the six girls sitting there? I've messed around with five of 'em.”

“Because you are a golden god,” Jordan intones dryly, while shoveling another load of noodles into his mouth. Off of Brayden's unappreciative look, he swallows hard and says, “Well, what the fuck you want me to say, man? Congrats on stickin' your hand down the pants of the collective senior class.”

Jared takes a drink of the water at his side and shakes his head. “Isn't Kaley Whitaker the one who thinks I'm hot?”

“Probably. Aren't most of the girls he brings home ones who think you're hot?” Jensen snickers and then turns his attention back to Brayden. “You should really start dating girls with better eye sight, Bray.” When Jared's hand connects with the back of his head, he cringes and throws a broccoli spear over his shoulder. “Cut it out, ass hat.”

“You're just jealous 'cause they all like me more than you.”

“Yeah, that's the problem.” Jensen takes another bite, chews, and swallows, before tilting his head to the side. “It's 'cause they know I'm gay, right?”

“What? And they think Jay's some pillar of heterosexuality?” Brayden laughs like that's the funniest thing he's ever heard. “It's because you're a dork. And possibly hideous.” With a shrug, he goes back to studying the soup in front of him. Honestly? Damned if he knows why anybody thinks either one of his dads are remotely attractive.

Jordan huffs at Brayden's side and then looks up to find three arched eyebrows aimed in his direction. “Oh, come on!” he defends. “Anybody with eyes knows Jen's hot as hell!” And then he seems to realize what is coming out of his mouth. “I mean, ya know, if you're into that sorta, um . . . can you hand me that garlic sauce?”

Brayden looks from his friend, the one he's known since fifth grade, and then over at the guys on the counter. They're shrugging back and shaking their heads, like he shouldn't make a big deal out of this. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's something. Either way, Brayden's big mouth is only going to make it worse.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Of course, keeping Brayden's mouth shut would require a staple gun, super glue, and the threat of castration. “You?” Jordan shrugs, eyes trained solely on the Styrofoam container in front of him. “How . . . I mean . . . since when?”

[lasvegas-lights.livejournal.com]

Jensen and Jared's anniversary is celebrated with a late night tatoo session...and more :P

The Tat Fic 1/2

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

Alright, bb, here you go. You get the tat fic everybody's been asking for. Hope it works for you!
*-*
A year ago, if you told Jensen that he was going to be meeting Jared after hours at Slinging Ink, he would have nodded and said he'd be lucky to still be fucking that giant mountain of muscle in a year.

If you told him that he would be sharing a decent apartment with the guy, and heading to the shop for an anniversary celebration? He probably wouldn't have believed it.

Neither of them had any interest in, or experience with, anything remotely long term back then.

But he's here now, and Jared's only instructions were to show up around midnight, use the back door, and wear pants he could pull down easily. Sounds as promising an anniversary as Jensen can imagine.

“Honey, I'm home!” he calls as he pushes into the staff kitchen. It's dark, and Nine Inch Nails's We're in This Together Now is pumping low through the speakers. This is, far and away, the closest to “romantic” Jared has ever gotten. It's kind of freaky.

Jared doesn't answer him, so Jensen steps tentatively through the curtain and finds his boyfriend seated on the reception counter, like he always sits on the one in their kitchen when he's eating. His shoulders are slumped and his head is bowed while he looks at what appears to be a small piece of paper in his enormous hands.

He doesn't look up until Jensen is standing between his knees. “Happy Anniversary,” is the first thing he says.

And Jensen doesn't even fight the grin that nearly splits his face. “Who'da thought, huh?”

Jared's massive shoulders shrug, and Jensen realizes he's not wearing a shirt. How did he not notice that first? He's losing his powers of observation, apparently. “I did,” Jared admits, voice softer than it usually is. “I don't know why or how, but I just fuckin' knew, man. From day one.”

He slides off of the counter and rests one hand against the back of Jensen's neck. “Yeah,” Jensen mutters, not bothering to fight when Jared pulls him into a slow, hungry kiss. When he pulls back, Jensen nods again. “God, I fuckin' love you.”

With a laugh, Jared steps back enough to guide Jensen over to his table. “I wanna give you your present now.”

“Please tell me it's a blow job,” Jensen groans, body reacting to nothing more than a simple kiss and the presence of this guy he couldn't be more crazy about if he tried.

“Come on,” Jared instructs, patting the chair once before lowering himself to his stool. Just like the day they met. And if Jensen has anything to say about it, just like every year from here until they stop breathing. “There's somethin' I gotta know, Jen. Before I do this, I gotta,” he shakes his head and Jensen watches him push his hair out of his eyes as he stands. “I'm in this, man. But I gotta know you are, too.”

[nickgregfan.livejournal.com]

ohhhh monday??? really???? i'm not sure I can LAST that long.


how about...and this is probably odd but i'm totally picturing the scene in my HEAD.

Jensen is late getting home, jared goes looking, and finds him spacing out and contemplating life at ollie....laying on the bottom of the bowl??? is that what its called???...with his head laying on his board....and jared takes a picture with his phone...and then happily molests jensen RIGHT FREAKING THERE.

mmmmmnnnnnnnnnn.............

[nickgregfan.livejournal.com]

and JUST so you know, its not that i want him lying there hurt (I figured I better put that out there), I just want him "communing" with the one place that he totally feels at home besides jareds arms.

[taintedlove.livejournal.com]

Do I even need to TELL you that I want Demi/Brayden? I want to see adorable awkwardness from their epic relationship. May it rest in peace. *grabby hands*

♥_♥

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

Dammit, these two are supposed to be OVER. And now I'm in love with them all over again. Are you happy now?
*-*
He's supposed to be working.

It's totally not his fault, though, that she showed up. With the sun bouncing off her hair and her eyes sparkling like they do when she smiles at him. Like Brayden's the only guy in the world to her.

So maybe his fifteen minute break turned into two hours walking the pier, her tiny hand in his or his arms around her waist while they stopped to talk to people they know from school, or just from practically living here on the boardwalk. It's cool, because he's working for Jensen today, and he totally doesn't care if Brayden takes off for hours at a time with his girlfriend. He's alright sometimes, Jensen is.

The guys mock him endlessly for the way he can't seem to keep his mouth shut. But when he's alone with Demi like this? Even in a crowd of tourists and locals, they're alone in this bubble of . . . whatever this is. And Brayden's perfectly happy to just be quiet. It's probably a little girlie, or emo, or complete bull shit, but sometimes he worries that he's going to miss something crucial if he doesn't shut up and pay attention. Like some vital piece of information about her will get past him or something.

They're on what feels like their thirtieth trip around the pier. Jensen sent him a text an hour ago to tell him to take the rest of the night off, but to make sure that Demi's home by curfew. He's still learning to remember that not everybody's parents are as cool as his, and that his girlfriend's mother isn't his biggest fan, so he needs to tow the line and make sure he follows her rules.

“Don't make fun of me, but,” she pulls to a stop and tugs on Brayden's hand, her brown eyes wide as she looks up into his face, “I kinda wanna ride the Ferris Wheel.”

Brayden can feel his eyebrow shoot up. He hasn't been on that thing since he was six. It kind of loses its appeal when you see it every damn day. “Really?”

“I know it's dumb,” she ducks her head, her silky hair falling over her blushing cheeks. “I just . . . I don't know . . . I've been on it a thousand times, ya know?” Looking up through thick lashes, she catches her lip between her teeth when she meets his eye. “Just never been on it . . . with you.”

He can't be sure, and he's damn well not gonna ask, but Brayden thinks he might blush, too, at her admission. Because there's nothing he doesn't want to do with this girl. That he wouldn't do for her.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, he catches her chin in his hand and tilts her face toward his. His thumb brushes over her lower lip and she releases it to smile in that way that stops the world from even existing for Brayden. “Come on, then. Let's ride the damn Ferris Wheel.”

With his arm around her, and her had resting against his shoulder, they wait for the next ride and then climb into the carriage that will take them to the top of the world. And when they get there, she's curled in next to him, her hand on the inside of his thigh and her thumb rubbing small circles against the denim.

He's pretty sure he doesn't deserve to be as happy as he is. But he's sure as fuck not willing to give it up. For anything.

“Brayden?” Demi's voice is soft and small, her breath brushing his neck.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He feels it, at home from the guys, but they're not words he often hears. Or says. Or is remotely comfortable with at all.

Still, sitting here at the top of everything, with the most beautiful girl in the world pressed against his side, and the sun burning away over the ocean? He knows what Jensen means when he says, even though some things are bigger than words, sometimes the words still need to be said.

Just before his lips close over hers, he whispers, “Love you, too, Dem.”

[kubis.livejournal.com]

I was going to ask for a ficlet with the new tattoo, but that seems to be a popular choice, so my prompt is Jensen missing Jared, who is away tattooing some star. I'm not even interested in phone sex (but feel free to include it, if you want ;)), but rather in missing him in regular things like eating or coming back from home or something like that.

Can't wait for the new fic! :)

Pt 1/2

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

During a normal year, Jensen travels alone on business roughly thirty-five days. Jared's gone even less than that. It's not because they can't be apart, or even because they choose to stay home. It just kind of works out that way.

That doesn't mean it's easy for the one who gets left behind when they do take off. They're both busy, and are able to spend a lot of time at their respective businesses as a distraction. But they have to come home some time, and when the other half isn't there, it's fucking weird.

This time, it's Jared who's out of town. Last minute call from a band on tour in Seattle. He's only going to be gone for one night, but his absence is glaringly obvious.

For one thing, Jensen accidentally ordered Jared's usual when he grabbed dinner on the way home. When Brayden comes into the kitchen, he looks at the three containers on the island and smirks. “Miss him already, huh?”

“Shut up.” He raises an eyebrow as Brayden takes his seat. “Maybe I just felt generous and bought extra for you.”

Brayden snorts. “Yeah. Maybe.”

He never thought they would be the guys with a routine. That always sounded so damn domestic. But seven years in the same house with a guy kind of lends itself to a certain degree of familiarity. Things they started without thinking, and continue with mentioning. Things that feel completely fucking wrong when Jared isn't here.

For instance, dinner. Brayden sits at the island. Jared hops onto the counter, and Jensen stands at Jared's side, elbow supported by the lean muscles in Jared's thigh. When he's not around, it throws everything off.

Jensen tries to hold his Styrofoam container with one hand, but it feels unstable. So he turns and rests it on the counter, but then his back is to Brayden, and that feels rude. He sits at the island for a second, but that's not right either.

Finally, in a huff, he stands and waves an arm in Brayden's direction. “Come here.”

“Huh?”

“Come here. Sit up here,” Jensen nods his head toward the counter.

Brayden rolls his eyes, three french fries hanging out of his mouth. “Man, fuck you. I'm not gonna be your substitute Sasquatch.”

Miserably, Jensen sinks back against the counter. “This sucks balls.”

[kskitten.livejournal.com]

Oooooh, more Disclaimer! That's awesome. I have been listening to the podfics over the weekend and need to re-read what hasn't been recorded yet!

Something short. Hmmm. Well, I would love some more Daneel/Chris/Steve (hah, big surprise!), maybe them at breakfast one morning after they've been together, them being all comfortable together. Or them sexing. Whatever appeals to you more!!!!

[kskitten.livejournal.com]

Ooooh, and I so second that tat prompt. Uh, so hot just thinking about what you could do with that!

[sothcweden.livejournal.com]

I'd love to see something from the early days, when Bray is still learning how to trust and how to ask for help from the guys. Not necessarily for something big.

Part 1/2

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

It shouldn't be a big deal. He knows that it shouldn't, but he feels weird asking.

These guys are awesome. Jared and Jensen have been nothing short of unbelievable with him since he moved in a few weeks ago. They seem to get that it's hard for him to just adjust to his life being completely ripped inside out, and they give him his space when he needs it.

Sometimes they hover, but that probably has more to do with the broken bones than anything. He still can't maneuver the stairs up to his old room, and he doesn't mind sleeping on the couch. It's a big couch, after all. Jared told him they bought it so they could both lay around and watch television without kicking each other in the face. It's twice as big as Brayden needs, though, and it's fine until he can get back upstairs.

The fridge was stocked with all of his favorite foods when he came home from the hospital, and they let him stay up and watch movies for as long as he can before the pain pills kick in. At least, they did until Sophia mentioned that school already started and he should probably have a tutor or something if he couldn't get around the halls. She's hot, but sometimes, Brayden thinks she should keep her big mouth shut.

In the end, it's not so bad because Sandy's a friggin' genius or something, like for real, so the Jared hires her to come over and tutor him until he can get back on his feet. It's cool, and she's smokin' hot, too, so there are perks. And Jordan comes over every day to fill him in on everything that happened at school, so he doesn't feel like he's missing out, exactly.

Sandy called the school and talked to all of his teachers. No wonder Jared loves her managing his business – she's really freakin' thorough about, like, everything. She came over earlier with lesson plans and books and worksheets. Any delusions Brayden had about his recovery time being a vacation were promptly dashed when he looked at the mountain of homework she left in her wake. Awesome.

The problem is that he can't do this algebra without a calculator. And separate notebooks would make it so much easier to keep everything straight, but he only has the one Sandy brought him. She said he should go through his assignments and make a list of everything he's going to need (pens, pencils, highlighters, etc.). If the guys don't have time to pick it up by tomorrow, then she'll take care of it.

But he doesn't want them to take care of it. He has a bunch of notebooks in his old room, at his old house. He bought a ton of them when they were on sale last year because he didn't know when his dad was going to give him money for more. There's a can of pens and pencils on his desk there. And his calculator, the one Lindsay bought him before she moved back to Texas.

He was going to have Jordan pick it up for him, but then he remembered that the doors are all locked and nobody's going to be there to let him in because nobody lives there anymore. His dad's in jail, and he's living in a fucking mini-mansion with more than he could even think to ask for at his disposal.

No way can he ask the guys to buy all of this stuff he needs. He knows they would do it, in a heartbeat, but that's not the point. The point is that they're already bending over backwards to make room for him in their lives. He's sure as fuck not gonna ask them to do any more. Even if it's just school supplies.

He'll manage. He always does. Somehow.

[batman-mcghee.livejournal.com]

i'd like to see a schmoopy little bit wherein jared is shaving and jensen is enthralled by the muscles and tattoos moving as jared moves his body. jensen just stares.

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

The first time Jensen saw Jared, he remembers wanting to sink his teeth into the massive muscles on his shoulders. When he finally got a chance to run his tongue over every one of those tattoos, all over Jared's body, he took his time and savored the smooth skin and long lines of that perfection. It's probably shallow, but having the patience to do it and getting hard without ever touching the guy with more than his mouth, was the first clue Jensen had that this guy, and everything he was, was different.

He's bigger now. In the last five years, he's bulked up a lot. When Jensen bought him the home gym, he thought that it would just mean Jared stayed in bed longer in the mornings. Turns out, it means he just gets more time to mold, craft, and improve on his damn-near-flawless body.

This, by the way, is not Jensen complaining. Because he has eyes. And they spend a lot of time looking at this chiseled god of a man. And they know, along with the rest of Jensen's collective parts and pieces, that everyone in the world does not get to step out of the shower to find a hulking mountain of golden flesh brushing his teeth and shaving in front of the mirror in the morning.

He doesn't take it for granted, the stunning visual that Jared makes, wrapped only in a towel while the sun streaks in through the bathroom window and bathes him in a fuzzy glow of light. He's usually not awake enough, and doesn't have enough time, to just stand around and stare at the guy. Because Jensen is the one who rolls out of bed fifteen minutes before he has to leave the house. Jared's usually still asleep, or already gone to drop Brayden off at school.

This morning, though, he has time. Time to ogle, stare, and objectify. To watch the way the water drips from the ends of Jared's hair onto the small 'O' on the back of his neck. (Their fourth anniversary gift, to signify Ollie's importance to Jensen, and therefore to Jared. Jensen has an 'S' in the same place for Slinging Ink.) The rivulet continues down the face of the tiger tattooed from his shoulder blades to the center of his back, and he considers the way the ropes of muscle beneath his shoulders roll with every glide of his hand over the stubble on his jaw. The reflection of his pecs jumping in the mirror when he realizes that he's been studied isn't so bad, either.

“What?”

Jensen shakes his head. He's not actually dumb enough to tell Jared the truth on this one. Instead, he tucks his towel around his waist and sidles up to the sink. “Tryin' to figure out how to get you to move your dumb ass so I can get my tooth paste.”

It's a blatant, and obvious lie, and if Jared was a better boyfriend, he would let it go. He's not at all, and therefore calls it with a cocky smirk. “Remember when we bought this house? With a big enough bathroom to keep your ass outta my space? Remember that?”

“I remember wantin' to keep your bony fuckin' elbows outta my ribs when I'm tryin' to get ready for fuckin' work,” Jensen corrects.

“Alright, well,” Jared nods. “Whole lot easier to keep my bony fuckin' elbows outta your ribs when you're on your own fuckin' side of the counter.”

Taking a second to stop and smack the back of Jared's head, Jensen steps around him, and casts one final long look at the place where the stark, white towel rests just below the cut of his bronzed hips, his personal favorite part of Jared's body.

“Ya know, if you wanna stand back there and stare at my ass, I can take the towel off.”

Mostly, Jensen wants to say 'yes please' and maybe yank the damn towel off himself. But the cocky smirk on Jared's face strengthens his resolve not to. “Not staring at your,” he starts to lie, and then catches Jared's eye, and he just can't. “Shut up.”

[kiwiana.livejournal.com]

Needs moar femslash, kthx.

Um, also, I can has J2 sexytiems in the tattoo parlour preferably immediately after Jared lets Jensen tattoo him or something equally nauseating.

Part 1/2

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

Santa Monica’s not exactly Compton or anything, but Genevieve still gets a little skeeved when she’s in the shop after hours by herself. She’s pretty bad-ass, if you ask her, but every noise is amplified when the crew’s all gone home for the night.

A few months ago, Jared was complaining about how jacked up the Slinging Ink website was, so she offered to step in and clean it up. He fired the outside company that was supposed to be doing it, and gave Genevieve a raise. Which is awesome. The extra hours it has taken her to make the site not only operational, but also cool enough to be worthy of the place it represents, are probably more than she even wants to add up. But it’s worth it to know that a.) it looks pretty damn good now, and b.) Jared appreciates it.

After everything he’s done for her, she kind of feels like this is just a drop in the bucket of gratitude she owes him.

She’s about to start shutting things down when the back door opens. Her heart absolutely does not leap into her throat, and she doesn’t freeze in her chair (like maybe it’s a grizzly bear that just used a key to get into the break room, and it won’t see her if she doesn’t move or something).

Visibly relaxing, she sinks back with a heavy sigh when Katie lugs a giant equipment bag through the curtain and makes her way over to her station. There are large sunglasses pushing her blond locks away from her face, and it’s clear that she’s frustrated.

She’s been in New Orleans for the last two weeks, helping a friend of a friend get his business back up and running in the French Quarter, and her flight was supposed to get in earlier today, but delays and re-routing put her about six hours behind schedule. Genevieve knows because Katie called in earlier, not because she was stalking the flight online to make sure everything went well. Because that would be ridiculous.

“Welcome home, Cupcake,” she greets with a half-smile and Katie barely manages to flip her off as she sets about unpacking her case at her station. The nickname stuck after a girl in her chair once told the entire shop that Katie has a pink-iced cupcake with little candy sprinkles tattooed on her left ass cheek. Whether Genevieve already knew that or not, she’s not telling.

“What’re you still doin’ here?” She looks tired from the travel, but is still smiling, so that’s a good sign. Katie doesn’t exactly look happy when she hasn’t slept. No matter what kept her up the night before.

Nodding to the computer, Genevieve drains half of the water bottle at her side. “Finishin’ the new web design. Wanna see?”

It takes her a minute to finish unloading her case and then she stands, running her hands over the tight denim covering her thighs. The knee-high black boots she wears with her oversized tee shirt and vest is a pretty popular look in these parts, but if you ask Genevieve, nobody rocks it like Katie.

[naranga.livejournal.com]

How about Jared accidentally injuring himself minorly-ish and not doing anything about it or telling anyone about it, for whatever reason, until Jensen notices it.

Pt 1/2

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

He's only twenty-nine, and healthy as a motherfucking horse. There is no reason for this bull shit, and Jared is pissed. Grabbing a pen off the floor is not supposed to wrench his back. It's fucking stupid that he can't walk without flinching.

Luckily, Jensen's been in San Diego all day, and Brayden's out, so nobody's been around to see, or mock, his suffering. If he's honest, he's just glad they're not here to worry about it. They would laugh while they do it, but Jensen's eyes would be questioning everything, and he'd probably demand that Jared see a doctor or something.

If anybody's gonna worry about his fucked up back, it's going to be him. He's never had a mom, and he doesn't need one hovering and babying him now.

He's lying in the bed, on his stomach, enjoying the fact that he doesn't have to move, when he hears Jensen coming up the stairs. He enters wordlessly, which is weird, but Jared's thinking too much about the tension in his lower back to worry about it.

It's not until he feels strong, bare thighs bracketing his, and the point of Jensen's tongue dragging down his spine, that he knows he's in trouble. Because, logically, his brain knows that his body can’t enjoy this.

Still, his upstairs and downstairs brains don’t seem to be on the same page, so he figures he can grit his teeth and bear it. Maybe it’ll be better than he thinks. Maybe Jensen’s cock has some healing powers that will make everything better again.

There’s a driving metal beat coming from the stereo across the room, Jared’s personal brand of relaxation music, and it’s the only sound between them.

Jensen uses his mouth against Jared’s skin like Jared uses a paint brush on a canvas. Like he’s telling a story and expressing things he’ll never even try to put into words. Normally, the curve of Jared’s spine, the way he arches into Jensen’s touch, and writhes in demand of more is his way of collaborating. It’s just another form of a communication for them, a shared language that no one else can translate.

He tries. Dammit, he really fucking tries, but Jensen’s just talking to himself today.

It’s inevitable when his mouth stops, just above the swell of Jared’s ass, and rests a hand on his side. “What’s with you?”

“You stopped,” Jared informs him.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re layin’ there like a giant, dead fuckin’ fish. You don’t wanna do this?”

He probably sounds less-than-convincing when he says, “I always wanna do this.”

“You sure?”

There’s concern creeping into the corners of Jensen’s question, so Jared rests his face on his arms and nods. “Continue,” he encourages, shifting to spread his legs and then thrusting his ass back as though presenting it to Jensen.

[gemini8.livejournal.com]

Brae and a girl. Any girl. Or asking Sophia for advice about girls. Yup, completely in love with Brae.
Thank you!

Part 1/2

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

Brayden’s favorite place in the world is not his pool house. It’s not the kitchen island, or his bedroom, or the park at Ollie.

No, Brayden’s favorite place in the world is inside Slinging Ink. More specifically, in Sophia’s chair when she’s between customers and lets him lay back while she runs her fingers through his hair and scratches his scalp with skilled and practiced hands. It’s as close to heaven as he figures he’ll ever come.

Nobody knows for sure when it started, but everyone know that it only happens if Brayden’s had a particularly long day and he needs to unwind in a way that nothing else will accomplish.

“You gonna tell me what’s up, baby boy?” Sohpia asks, her voice low beneath the metal track pumping through the shop’s speakers. Everyone else is either busy, or out of the office, so as long as they keep their voices down, they shouldn’t be disturbed.

“What’s always up, Soph?”

“Are we talkin’ a specific girl, or just women in general?”

He shakes his head a little beneath her touch, but she just slows down to let him move. When he stops and sighs heavily, her ministrations start again. “Does it matter? You’re all the fuckin’ same.” She pulls hard on the hair between her fingers. “Ouch! Woman!”

“Oops,” Sophia feigns innocence and then rubs her thumbs over the place where she just pulled, soothing and smiling to herself when he groans. “Think part of the problem is that you treat ‘em all the same?”

Brayden rolls his eyes. “I think the problem is they all want some soap opera fuckery, or some shit they read about in Cosmo, and nobody bothers tellin’ ‘em it doesn’t really go down that way, ya know?”

Sandy, Genevieve, and Danneel have all known Bryaden for as long as Sophia has, but for some reason, the familial bond he’s forged with her is different. If there’s anyone he knows he can talk to about women, who will tell him straight up what the fuck they’re thinking, it’s Soph. She’s a valuable resource.

Her fingernails skate down the back of his neck and Brayden groans, momentarily forgetting every problem he had before he sat down.

“Stop makin’ my kid moan,” Jared calls over the din of the music at the same time that Chad says, “Stop moanin’ for my wife.”

[jesseofthenorth.livejournal.com]

Your timestamps rule and I would love a little snippet the evening after "where I want to be", when the boys see each other again . You know right before heading off to "Party in the Hills tonight. Pick ya up at 11."
I always wondered what that would look like.

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

It’s impulsive. Kind of ridiculous. Borderline stupid. Possibly dangerous.

And Jared hasn’t regretted it for a second since this morning. Well, there was that a minute that he might do differently, where he realized he didn't have Jensen’s address or phone number and he’s supposed to pick him up tonight. But with an assist from Steve, disaster was averted. He feels pretty good about the whole thing now.

The freak out should start any second. The rising anxiety in his chest that this is never going to work, and that he doesn’t deserve something like this. That the guy he met yesterday, hung out with last night, and fucked until seven this morning is too good to be true and he should consider that a warning.

But it just doesn’t come. There’s something about Jensen. Something different. Something safe.

Chad asked him this afternoon what it was about this guy that was turning him into a giant girl, and Jared told him to fuck off. But he can’t stop asking himself the same question as he leaves his apartment and heads out to his truck. He only has ten minutes to get to the other side of Santa Monica.

What is it about this guy that’s turning you into a giant fuckin’ girl, man? Mouth like a hoover? Ass like a vise? What?

Jared doesn’t think that’s it. Both are true, but neither is the reason he’s still thinkin’ about Jensen today. He’s been with plenty of guys who left him well-sucked, well-fucked, or both, but he wasn’t thinking about them nearly twenty-four hours later.

The thing is, he knows why Jensen, but the reason sounds gay in his own head. For a guy who loves taking dick up his ass, that’s saying something.

He eases his truck to a stop in front of Chris’s house and isn’t sure whether he should go to the door or wait. Five minutes later, Jared couldn’t move if he wanted to.

Jensen's wearing skinny jeans and a short-sleeved white dress shirt. There’s a thin black tie loose around his neck, and a pair of aqua skater shoes on his feet. Liner and polish, gel in his green hair, and a smile that could light up the whole damn street.

Yeah, Jared knows what it is. Because as soon as Jensen slides into the cab of the truck, it's there, as real as it was last night. That feeling he’s only had a couple of times in his life.

When he left Texas.

When he bought Slinging Ink.

When Jensen walked through the door yesterday.

When he was still there, buried under Jared’s covers, this morning.

Right now.

It’s the feeling that everything leading up to this moment was really only preparing him for this moment. That this is what he’s been moving toward, working for, since before he knew he was looking for it. That this is where he belongs.

They drive up the 2, into the winding hills outside of Hollywood, and conversation flows easy as breathing.

When Jared eases his truck into the driveway of a mansion four times the size of anything he'd ever even want to own, Jensen turns and shakes his head with a knowing smirk.

“What?” Jared asks, innocent as can be.

“Nothin', man. I think it's cute you're tryin' to impress me.”

“Oh, shut up,” Jared shakes his head and yanks his keys from the ignition. “I was comin' anyway. Figured you might wanna see where the cool people hang.”

“And by 'cool' you mean the filthy rich rock stars that can't live without your infamous ink?” Stopping to grab Jared's wrist, Jensen smiles. “This is your life?”

Jared shrugs. “Part of it,” he answers like it's nothing. He knows that it's weird, and not at all like other people's lives. But it's not so bad.

Turning to consider the house, and the stream of partiers heading in and out, Jensen tilts his head and then nods. “I could get used to this.”

He starts to walk, but Jared just takes a step back and leans against the front of his truck. “Hey, c'mere.”

Jensen walks back, stopping between Jared's spread thighs. “Party's in there,” he nods over his shoulder.

With a nod, Jared leans forward until their lips are almost touching. “It'll wait,” he says, and then pulls on Jensen's belt until their mouths are sealed together.

The parties and the money and the fucking rock stars can wait another minute or two. Jared's been waiting his whole fucking life for this.

[stellarluna35.livejournal.com]

I'd like to see if Jensen ever finally appears on Jared's TV show.

Or the decision from either Jared or the network not to do another season.

Or Brayden at one of his competitions.

Part 1/2

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

“We need to talk.”

Jensen looks up from his desk to find Jared standing in the doorway, one ankle crossed over the other and his hands hooked into the pockets of his jeans. It takes him a minute to gather his thoughts from the sight alone.

“Not the three little words every girl longs to hear, honey,” he smirks as he leans back in his chair.

“It's four words, moron.”

“Fuck you. What's up?”

He pushes off the door frame around moves into the room, until he rounds Jensen's desk and leans right next to him. “I want you to come by tomorrow.”

Jensen's eyebrow raises. “Wanna vague it up for me a little more there, Stretch?”

“To the studio. Stop by around three?”

After a quick run-through of his schedule for the day, Jensen nods his head. “I think I can manage that. Why? What's up?”

Silence. Jared looks uncomfortable, like he's afraid to say what's on his mind. If he remembers correctly from Sunday School, that's one of the signs of the Apocalypse. Or something.

And then it hits Jensen. Like a punch to the gut. “Man, fuck all, Jay,” he shakes his head. “One more day. Twenty-four more hours, and you can't just let it go?”

Jared sighs and drops his head back, scrubs his hands over his face, and then looks back at Jensen. “I have never pushed you. Always respected your decision, man, but come on. This is it. Never get another shot.”

Well, fuck if that's not reasonable logic.

Bravo's Slinging Ink is wrapping production tomorrow, after four seasons on the air. It's kind of par for the course, the network growing bored and looking for a new direction after only a few years. There was a brief offer on the table for renewal, but it included a spin-off of Chad and Sophia's married life, and they weren't interested. In the end, they all just called it a mutual decision, and everyone seems pretty pleased with that.

“What does it even matter, man? Four seasons, you've managed without me. Why now?”

Jared just looks out the window and mumbles something.

“What was that?”

“Because I've got hours of footage of every other goddamn member of my family, and there's not so much as a fuckin' hint that you even exist outside our heads.”

“So you wanna prove to the world that you don't have an imaginary boyfriend?”

“No,” Jared shakes his head and pushes off the desk. “Forget it. Just fuckin' forget I said anything.”

[plasticine-star.livejournal.com]

Ok, I'm a greedy little disclaimer addict so here's another prompt.

Jensen's mom being a total Slinging Ink fangirl/mother in law to a bewildered Jared.

Or one of the whole crew just letting loose at a party.

Part 1/2

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

This is, BY FAR, the crackiest thing I have ever written in this verse. I just thought you should know you inspired that. ;)
*-*
Brayden's in the pool house. Jared's in the basement. And Jensen is enjoying the silence that accompanies his Tarantino marathon in the theater. He loves his boys, but sometimes a man needs some time to himself, dammit.

His phone vibrates on the seat beside him, and he wouldn't answer it except his mother rarely calls him and it could be important.

“Hello?”

“Jensen, honey, is Jared home?”

He pauses the movie and furrows his brow. “Uh, yeah. I think so.”

“Can I talk to him for just a second?”

“Why?”

He doesn't mean to be rude, but seriously? What the fuck could his mother have to say to his boyfriend? Aside from Christmas, and Jensen's stint in the hospital, he's pretty sure they've never spoken directly to one another.

“I just need to ask him a question. I'll make it quick, I promise.”

“Alright,” he says, hesitant as he eases himself out of his chair. “I'm fine, by the way. Thanks for asking,” he adds, making his way through the hall and toward the basement door.

Donna smiles audibly through the phone. Don't ask him how he can tell. It's a mother/son thing. He knows when she's smiling at him like he's still a silly little six-year-old. “I'm sorry, Sweetie. How are you doing?”

He descends the stairs and doesn't bother answering because there's no way his mom would hear him over the screaming Manson on saturating the room.

Jared looks up, startled, from his seat beside the easel when Jensen cuts the music. It's cold down here, and Jared's not wearing a shirt. How the hell is Jensen supposed to remember his mother's on the phone when he can't stop staring at Jared's nipples?

“What's up?” Jared asks, fingers raking through his hair as he turns his attention to the man gaping before him. Jensen flips him off when Jared looks down at himself and flexes his pecs with an arrogant grin on his lips. “See somethin' you like?”

In his ear, his mother clears her throat and Jensen blinks hard to clear his brain. “Um, yeah,” he holds the phone out. “My mom wants to talk to you.”

“The fuck for?” he asks, like it doesn't even occur to him that she can hear him.

“Fuck if I know, man. Just . . . take the damn phone.”

Jared does, looking at it like it might bite him when he raises it to his face. “Hello?”

He looks over at Jensen with a 'save me' look, but Jensen's far too amused to worry about helping at all.

[bellaaurora.livejournal.com]

I'd love to see Jared explaining all of his tattoos or talking about his and Jensen's relationship in one of the confessional interviews on the show.

Part 1/2

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

“I think, if I tried to tell you about all my ink, we'd be here all day,” Jared smiles into the camera from his place at the table in the Slinging Ink break room.

The confessionals for the Bravo show aren't his favorite thing to do, but he doesn't mind them. The producer prompts him with questions, and all Jared has to do is answer them. A little of that ingrained Texas charm, a few chuckles, and people seem to dig what he has to say. At least, they tell him they do when he stop in to gush about the show.

“Can you just tell us about a couple of them?”

With a nod, Jared looks over his arms and tries to decide where to start. “This one was my first,” he points to his shoulder, to the skull and fire-breathing dragons there. “They're probably the two most recurring themes in my art.” Running his fingers through his hair, he glances down at his legs. “You can't see 'em, but there's an outline of the state of Texas on the back of my left calf. With a flag in the middle? That's where I'm from, but it's also what I left behind, so it's always at my back.

“And then, here,” he runs his hand over his thigh, “I have the Ferris Wheel from the pier out there,” he nods in the general direction of the door. “Santa Monica's my home, so it's always in front of me.” He shrugs like it's no big deal.

“Can we see it?”

“Man, you just wanna see me in my underwear,” Jared rolls his eyes, but stands anyway. “You're gonna edit this later, right? I don't mind showin' ya, but I ain't strippin' for free here.”

The producer laughs and focuses his attention on the large, black and white wheel that covers the surface of Jared's left thigh. The camera man zooms in and moves closer and Jared huffs an awkward laugh while he waits for them to get the shot.

“You want the other one, too?” Turning, he shows the back of his calf, and then pulls his pants back up to his hips with a laugh. “Man, I wish Jen would walk in right now. His head would fuckin' explode.” To find his boyfriend with his pants around his ankles, and two guys staring hard at his lower body? Jared almost wants to snap a picture with his phone. It'd be worth it, for sure.

“You mind talkin' about one or two of his tats?” the producer asks.

“Jensen's?”

“Well, the ones you have for him.”

Jared doesn't mind. But their anniversary tats are kind of personal. Also, it's kind of the girliest thing they do together, commemorating their time together with sentimental art all over their bodies. He loves those pieces more than anything, but they're not something everyone needs to know about.

Thinking quickly, he rucks his tank top up to his neck and points to his right pec, where the silhouette of a skater crouches low on his board, arms outstretched to hold his balance. “This one is represents Jen's 'skater for life' mentality.”

“What about the letters? You wanna talk about one of them?” The producers are obsessed with what his tattoos mean to him, but some things really are too fucking personal.

last minute request

[batman-mcghee.livejournal.com]

I know you said prompting was closed as of the 11th and it’s still the 10th in so cal where I love, so I wanted to know if you’ll take a late entry even if I already requested something?

I’d like to see a knockdown dragout fight between Jensen and Jared wherein they both storm out of the house. Bray is so worried he calls Chad and says “I think my Dads just split up”. And Chad to the rescue!

Re: last minute request

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

I've been thinking about this, and I think it's a fantastic idea.

The problem is that now I've got an idea that's going to take way more than the thousand word limit I've put on these comment fics, so I'm going to expand on it and write you something bigger in the near future. I'm not promising a time frame, but I am promising that you will see it.