RPF | R | The Things That Fit in My Hand
Sep. 5th, 2009 12:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dugindeepHey! Remember when I said no posting until the epic is done? Yeah, I’m a damned dirty liar, apparently. Hope this does you well, so you’ll all forgive me lying in your face.
Title: The Things That Fit in My Hand
Words: ~1,000
Rating: R – bad words because my boys, Jared namely, like to swear
Warnings: Schmoop with animals? That sounds so dirty.
Summary: This one day, this particularly sunny day, he absolutely loves being a celebrity. Because the zoologists are tripping over their tongues and grinning and eating up his huge charming nature. And they’re letting him go behind the official-looking fence at the petting zoo and look at the little baby farm animals.
Notes: Oh Jesus, so![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lazy_daze posts links to THESE ADORABLE PICS, then she mentions her mind seeing “big schmoo Sammy petting and holding that tiny soft piglet in his haaaands,” and then I say that needs to be written, AND THEN karabou insists it needs to exist. And well, here we are. (FML I'm thinking of making this a verse)
There are times that Jared kind of loathes being a celebrity. When girls approach him while he’s just trying to get some grocery shopping done. When he can’t go anywhere without getting his picture taken. When he can’t step out with friends or someone he’s even remotely interested in without being judged and talked about. And pretty much any time he’s in public with Jensen – for the reason stated just seconds ago.
However. This one day, this particularly sunny day, he absolutely loves being a celebrity. Because the zoologists are tripping over their tongues and grinning and eating up his huge charming nature. And they’re letting him go behind the official-looking fence at the petting zoo and look at the little baby farm animals.
He’s beaming like a fool and constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure Jensen is still there. Not even caring that the guy has his annoyed, tense, impatient look planted on his face. The one that says he’s tired of Jared being so … Jared … and is embarrassed by the man. But Jared doesn’t care. He’s just flashing all white and deep dimples.
“Jen, look at this!”
“Yeah, I’m good from here,” he replies evenly with a faked smile. The zoologists don’t know it, though, so they’re smiling right back and giddily inviting him to come closer. He scoots a little, but just to see what it is that Jared’s so excited about.
It takes just seconds before there are cooing sounds and Jared’s murmuring things in the sweetest, most playful voice Jensen’s ever heard. It’s both mortifying and endearing. But he hides a smirk when Jared looks over his shoulder again. “Seriously, this thing is adorable.”
Jensen rolls his eyes but makes his way over, hands tucked deep into his jeans pockets and shoulders hunched up high. “What’s up?”
Jared’s smile goes from bright and wide to slim and thoughtful, almost sweet. “Look,” he murmurs while gazing down to his chest, where a teeny, tiny, fragile piglet is cradled in one of his inhumanly gigantic palms. A wrinkly, wee bag of brown skin and an equally petite snout.
“Jesus, Jare,” Jensen breathes. He’s kind of horrified right there. Jared managing a living animal that weighs less than 100 pounds is questionable. Make it a baby and something that miraculously fits into his mitt of a hand and you’re asking for trouble. The guy is seriously uncoordinated. “You’re gonna …” Jensen inhales sharply and the voice is tight while his hands come into view and twitch near the baby animal. “God. You’re gonna squash the thing.”
He looks up and the smile remains gentle, but it hitches up in one corner. “Jen, I’m holding a baby piglet. This thing … it’s freaking awesome.”
On another sharp sigh – this time a tired one – Jensen rolls his eyes. “I think piglet implies baby.”
“Fuck off,” he murmurs back playfully.
“Watch your language in front of the baby.”
He smirks at Jensen then looks back down on the animal.
Jensen steps closer, falling a little under the little piggy’s spell. His face loosens up and he even dips his head a few inches to get a good view of it squiggling in Jared’s palm, sniffing his shirt and trotting around his hand. “Does it … what’s it?” Jensen murmurs, not exactly comfortably. Like he doesn’t want to acknowledge what this moment actually feels like.
Jared, on the other hand, inhales happily and runs his index finger over the piglet. His voice goes high and playful again, “It’s a bebe. A widdle bebe peeeeeglet.” His finger keeps moving back and forth over the creases of its skin and he gives a happily grossed out look to Jensen. “It’s all wrinkly.”
“Uh, duh.”
His voice goes wondrous and he continues watching the pig march from the edges of his upturned fingers back down near his wrist. “It’s so tiny. It feels like air and tiny hooves. Seriously.”
They watch in silence as it circles and eventually settles into middle of his palm. Its head rolls back and forth against the pads of his hand and Jared quietly giggles.
Jensen’s fingers creep into view and one hesitant fingertip grazes the piglet’s ear. The piglet flinches at Jensen’s touch, but he’s flinching, too, and withdrawing his hand.
Jared looks up and finds Jensen’s face in taut concentration as his finger reaches forward again, allowing the baby to sniff at his skin. Upon contact, Jensen’s nose wrinkles and his face lights up for a flash of sweetness. “Awesome, huh?” Jared whispers.
He doesn’t look up, just watches the piglet rise to its feet and move over to rub against Jensen’s finger. “It’s so tiny,” he responds just as quietly.
“We should take it home.”
Jensen gives Jared a tired glare. “Harley would eat it for breakfast.”
Jared makes a thoughtful face. “He does like bacon.”
“Jesus, you’re holding a baby pig and talking about bacon. Class act, Jare.”
He chuckles low, all throat and chest, but he’s moving closer to Jensen and cupping the pig with both hands. “Here,” he murmurs, moving into Jensen’s space.
Jensen’s shaking his head. “What? No. No way.”
“C’mon. Just for five seconds. You can do it.”
There’s a sharp breath, but his hands cup together and accept the hand-off.
Jared’s quietly counting to five, but it’s around three when Jensen relaxes and he pulls it up to his chest like Jared had done.
It’s nearly fifteen when Jensen murmurs, “This is fucking crazy,” with a wondrous voice.
Jared reaches up to smack his palm at Jensen’s cheek. “No swearing in front of the baby.”
Bonus Artz!
Next | My Hands are Big Enough For You | He gets closer to the corner of the fencing and thinks there are rodents settling beneath some of the foliage. But then he sees them. Three itty, bitty, patched kittens huddled into each other and meowing their little heads off.
Title: The Things That Fit in My Hand
Words: ~1,000
Rating: R – bad words because my boys, Jared namely, like to swear
Warnings: Schmoop with animals? That sounds so dirty.
Summary: This one day, this particularly sunny day, he absolutely loves being a celebrity. Because the zoologists are tripping over their tongues and grinning and eating up his huge charming nature. And they’re letting him go behind the official-looking fence at the petting zoo and look at the little baby farm animals.
Notes: Oh Jesus, so
lazy_daze posts links to THESE ADORABLE PICS, then she mentions her mind seeing “big schmoo Sammy petting and holding that tiny soft piglet in his haaaands,” and then I say that needs to be written, AND THEN karabou insists it needs to exist. And well, here we are. (FML I'm thinking of making this a verse)There are times that Jared kind of loathes being a celebrity. When girls approach him while he’s just trying to get some grocery shopping done. When he can’t go anywhere without getting his picture taken. When he can’t step out with friends or someone he’s even remotely interested in without being judged and talked about. And pretty much any time he’s in public with Jensen – for the reason stated just seconds ago.
However. This one day, this particularly sunny day, he absolutely loves being a celebrity. Because the zoologists are tripping over their tongues and grinning and eating up his huge charming nature. And they’re letting him go behind the official-looking fence at the petting zoo and look at the little baby farm animals.
He’s beaming like a fool and constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure Jensen is still there. Not even caring that the guy has his annoyed, tense, impatient look planted on his face. The one that says he’s tired of Jared being so … Jared … and is embarrassed by the man. But Jared doesn’t care. He’s just flashing all white and deep dimples.
“Jen, look at this!”
“Yeah, I’m good from here,” he replies evenly with a faked smile. The zoologists don’t know it, though, so they’re smiling right back and giddily inviting him to come closer. He scoots a little, but just to see what it is that Jared’s so excited about.
It takes just seconds before there are cooing sounds and Jared’s murmuring things in the sweetest, most playful voice Jensen’s ever heard. It’s both mortifying and endearing. But he hides a smirk when Jared looks over his shoulder again. “Seriously, this thing is adorable.”
Jensen rolls his eyes but makes his way over, hands tucked deep into his jeans pockets and shoulders hunched up high. “What’s up?”
Jared’s smile goes from bright and wide to slim and thoughtful, almost sweet. “Look,” he murmurs while gazing down to his chest, where a teeny, tiny, fragile piglet is cradled in one of his inhumanly gigantic palms. A wrinkly, wee bag of brown skin and an equally petite snout.
“Jesus, Jare,” Jensen breathes. He’s kind of horrified right there. Jared managing a living animal that weighs less than 100 pounds is questionable. Make it a baby and something that miraculously fits into his mitt of a hand and you’re asking for trouble. The guy is seriously uncoordinated. “You’re gonna …” Jensen inhales sharply and the voice is tight while his hands come into view and twitch near the baby animal. “God. You’re gonna squash the thing.”
He looks up and the smile remains gentle, but it hitches up in one corner. “Jen, I’m holding a baby piglet. This thing … it’s freaking awesome.”
On another sharp sigh – this time a tired one – Jensen rolls his eyes. “I think piglet implies baby.”
“Fuck off,” he murmurs back playfully.
“Watch your language in front of the baby.”
He smirks at Jensen then looks back down on the animal.
Jensen steps closer, falling a little under the little piggy’s spell. His face loosens up and he even dips his head a few inches to get a good view of it squiggling in Jared’s palm, sniffing his shirt and trotting around his hand. “Does it … what’s it?” Jensen murmurs, not exactly comfortably. Like he doesn’t want to acknowledge what this moment actually feels like.
Jared, on the other hand, inhales happily and runs his index finger over the piglet. His voice goes high and playful again, “It’s a bebe. A widdle bebe peeeeeglet.” His finger keeps moving back and forth over the creases of its skin and he gives a happily grossed out look to Jensen. “It’s all wrinkly.”
“Uh, duh.”
His voice goes wondrous and he continues watching the pig march from the edges of his upturned fingers back down near his wrist. “It’s so tiny. It feels like air and tiny hooves. Seriously.”
They watch in silence as it circles and eventually settles into middle of his palm. Its head rolls back and forth against the pads of his hand and Jared quietly giggles.
Jensen’s fingers creep into view and one hesitant fingertip grazes the piglet’s ear. The piglet flinches at Jensen’s touch, but he’s flinching, too, and withdrawing his hand.
Jared looks up and finds Jensen’s face in taut concentration as his finger reaches forward again, allowing the baby to sniff at his skin. Upon contact, Jensen’s nose wrinkles and his face lights up for a flash of sweetness. “Awesome, huh?” Jared whispers.
He doesn’t look up, just watches the piglet rise to its feet and move over to rub against Jensen’s finger. “It’s so tiny,” he responds just as quietly.
“We should take it home.”
Jensen gives Jared a tired glare. “Harley would eat it for breakfast.”
Jared makes a thoughtful face. “He does like bacon.”
“Jesus, you’re holding a baby pig and talking about bacon. Class act, Jare.”
He chuckles low, all throat and chest, but he’s moving closer to Jensen and cupping the pig with both hands. “Here,” he murmurs, moving into Jensen’s space.
Jensen’s shaking his head. “What? No. No way.”
“C’mon. Just for five seconds. You can do it.”
There’s a sharp breath, but his hands cup together and accept the hand-off.
Jared’s quietly counting to five, but it’s around three when Jensen relaxes and he pulls it up to his chest like Jared had done.
It’s nearly fifteen when Jensen murmurs, “This is fucking crazy,” with a wondrous voice.
Jared reaches up to smack his palm at Jensen’s cheek. “No swearing in front of the baby.”
Next | My Hands are Big Enough For You | He gets closer to the corner of the fencing and thinks there are rodents settling beneath some of the foliage. But then he sees them. Three itty, bitty, patched kittens huddled into each other and meowing their little heads off.
