Fic: First Meetings, Chris/ Jared
Aug. 24th, 2008 07:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
under_hatchesTitle: First Meetings
Pairing: Chris/ Jared
Rating/ Warnings: PG-13
Words: 641
Notes: for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silme711
The first thing Chris does when seeing Jared in person is reminding himself for how long Jensen and he are friends, because damn. When Jared sees him, he smiles widely and fucking waves, which is probably the thing that does it for Chris, the obvious excitement, the unbridled energy.
Chris slips into the chair opposite Jared, his left knee brushing against Jared’s because the boy has fucking long legs and is taking up all the space under the table and Chris jumps at the contact, fumbling with his jacket and dropping it over the backrest of his chair, keeping his hands occupied. He orders a beer and a shot, Jared only a beer. Chris downs the shot as soon as it arrives, not bothering with lime and salt, and orders another one before the waitress sets their beers on the table.
“That kind of day?” Jared asks with a grin and Chris nods. It isn’t really, but he prefers the ready explanation to the one he has yet to give. And his week had been rough, too much work, too little sleep, his insomnia kicking in fully sometime around Thursday, so he probably looks like shit now and this might be why Jared does not ask further, just nods and raises his bottle in a silent toast. Chris is more than fine with that and relaxes, kicking one leg out under the table, brushing Jared’s leg again but not jumping this time.
They talk for a bit, Jared mostly work stuff, so Chris does too, and then they talk stunts and Chris’ attention shifts from what Jared says to the gleam in his eyes when he says it, and before he can get that filter on, he says:
“I’ll be fucked.”
And Jared laughs because maybe it fitted the story right there, something about cars? Chris was damned if he knew. He tries to listen after that, over the buzz of the tequila, but he watches more, and orders another shot and that isn’t good. Jared looks at him.
“Chris?”
Fuck, he probably asked something before and Chris has no idea what, just notices Jared’s hand wrapped around that beer bottle.
“Huh?”
“You want to leave?”
It takes a moment for Chris to register that this is an innocent offer, the kind you give to someone that seems out of it and in need of sleep, and he shakes his head.
“Nah, ‘m good. Not yet, boy.”
Jared grins at that, continuing his story effortlessly or maybe this is another story, a new one, Chris can’t tell the difference. He leans over and stares at Jared who stops and laughs and waves for the waitress. Jared pays their tab, grabs Chris’ jacket and hands it to him, making a motion with his hand that Chris does not understand.
“I’ll drive you,” Jared offers, his words not slurring and Chris tries to remember if he really had just that one beer, tries to count the drinks he himself had and fails. He reaches for Jared, grabs his arm to steady himself and Jared laughs, deep and rumbly, and Chris could have done without that.
He wonders if he dozed off in the car because suddenly they are there and Jared has the motor idling and looks at Chris. Chris leans over and kisses Jared, who makes a surprised but happy sound and kisses him back. When Chris pulls back, Jared smiles but makes no movement to park the car, so Chris grins and unbuckles himself.
He waves after the car, fucking waves, and when he comes out of the shower, there is a text on his cell.
Pick you up tomorrow?
Yes, he types back without thinking. Just that one word, yes. Chris falls back on the bed and curls up, barely pulling the blankets over himself before falling asleep easily, instantly.
Pairing: Chris/ Jared
Rating/ Warnings: PG-13
Words: 641
Notes: for
silme711The first thing Chris does when seeing Jared in person is reminding himself for how long Jensen and he are friends, because damn. When Jared sees him, he smiles widely and fucking waves, which is probably the thing that does it for Chris, the obvious excitement, the unbridled energy.
Chris slips into the chair opposite Jared, his left knee brushing against Jared’s because the boy has fucking long legs and is taking up all the space under the table and Chris jumps at the contact, fumbling with his jacket and dropping it over the backrest of his chair, keeping his hands occupied. He orders a beer and a shot, Jared only a beer. Chris downs the shot as soon as it arrives, not bothering with lime and salt, and orders another one before the waitress sets their beers on the table.
“That kind of day?” Jared asks with a grin and Chris nods. It isn’t really, but he prefers the ready explanation to the one he has yet to give. And his week had been rough, too much work, too little sleep, his insomnia kicking in fully sometime around Thursday, so he probably looks like shit now and this might be why Jared does not ask further, just nods and raises his bottle in a silent toast. Chris is more than fine with that and relaxes, kicking one leg out under the table, brushing Jared’s leg again but not jumping this time.
They talk for a bit, Jared mostly work stuff, so Chris does too, and then they talk stunts and Chris’ attention shifts from what Jared says to the gleam in his eyes when he says it, and before he can get that filter on, he says:
“I’ll be fucked.”
And Jared laughs because maybe it fitted the story right there, something about cars? Chris was damned if he knew. He tries to listen after that, over the buzz of the tequila, but he watches more, and orders another shot and that isn’t good. Jared looks at him.
“Chris?”
Fuck, he probably asked something before and Chris has no idea what, just notices Jared’s hand wrapped around that beer bottle.
“Huh?”
“You want to leave?”
It takes a moment for Chris to register that this is an innocent offer, the kind you give to someone that seems out of it and in need of sleep, and he shakes his head.
“Nah, ‘m good. Not yet, boy.”
Jared grins at that, continuing his story effortlessly or maybe this is another story, a new one, Chris can’t tell the difference. He leans over and stares at Jared who stops and laughs and waves for the waitress. Jared pays their tab, grabs Chris’ jacket and hands it to him, making a motion with his hand that Chris does not understand.
“I’ll drive you,” Jared offers, his words not slurring and Chris tries to remember if he really had just that one beer, tries to count the drinks he himself had and fails. He reaches for Jared, grabs his arm to steady himself and Jared laughs, deep and rumbly, and Chris could have done without that.
He wonders if he dozed off in the car because suddenly they are there and Jared has the motor idling and looks at Chris. Chris leans over and kisses Jared, who makes a surprised but happy sound and kisses him back. When Chris pulls back, Jared smiles but makes no movement to park the car, so Chris grins and unbuckles himself.
He waves after the car, fucking waves, and when he comes out of the shower, there is a text on his cell.
Pick you up tomorrow?
Yes, he types back without thinking. Just that one word, yes. Chris falls back on the bed and curls up, barely pulling the blankets over himself before falling asleep easily, instantly.
