amberdreams (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
amberdreams) wrote2014-09-21 10:33 pm
amberdreams) wrote2014-09-21 10:33 pm
Entry tags:
Boathouse Blues
Dont' know where this came from but - a fill for 
yohkobennington 's prompt on 
tebtosca 's Boathouse meme
The J2 Non-AU Renaissance Fanworks Meme
Title: Boathouse Blues
Words: ~1200
Rating: Mild NC17
Genre: J2 slash
Warnings: major character death - read the prompt!
Prompt: Oldie J1 comes back to the boathouse to spread J2 ashes on the lake. While in there, he can't help going down memory lane and revise the happy and not happy times they had together in the boathouse.
Boathouse Blues
“Here we are then,” he says, and carefully sits them down on the considerately cushioned loungers so he can contemplate the view over the water. It’s probably a mistake to sit on something this low, his ancient knees will have trouble when he tries to get up, but he’s feeling a little fragile, and he just needs a few restful moments with his old friend before he completes the task he’s here for.
The surface of Lake Austin is silken smooth today, and gleams in shades of steel grey, burnished like a knife where it reflects the rain-laden clouds. The Texas October air is still warm, and carries the scents of autumn from all around the boathouse – damp earth, fallen leaves and the freshwater smell of the Colorado River.
“Remember when we first came down here? It was so hot; the sunlight reflecting off the water was dazzling, but it was your smile that blinded me.”
“Listen to you, old man. Everyone used to think I was the romantic, but here you are. Reminiscing about a long lost past like a lovelorn teenage girl.”
“Oh screw you, J. I’m the manliest man that ever lived, everyone says so. Besides, I’m not the one who cried watching Frozen with the kids. Every time.”
“Shut up! You cried too,” he says, grinning.
A companionable silence falls. He looks out past the two empty bays in the boathouse, out over the water, mesmerised by the expanding ripples as a soft rain starts to fall. He doesn’t need to close his eyes to remember; it’s all there, clearer than yesterday.
Jared stands with his back to the room, staring out at the Lake. His shoulders are tight and he’s folded his arms across his stomach – whether it’s a barrier against something getting in or out, who could say?
“I can’t do this any more,” he says, without turning round.
Two hours later, Jared has gone and Jensen is still standing in the Boathouse where Jared left him, his insides turned to ice.
There are voices outside, a low rumble that barely registers a blip in Jensen’s concentration as he lines up cue against ball and draws his elbow back. He breathes in, steadies himself for the shot – and nearly tears a line in the baize on the table when two huge hands grab his hips from behind. He spins round, growling, and there’s Jared, larger than life, laughing down at him from that ridiculous height.
“Padalecki, you fucker!”
“Aw, come on Jen, you love me really,” Jared says, grinning, and leans in to steal a kiss and all the breath from Jensen’s body. Jared’s pressing right up into Jensen’s space, feeding him heat to compensate for the lack of air. Jensen can feel the hard line of Jared’s cock burning into his thigh as he is bent backwards against the pool table.
“Don’t tell me you aren’t glad I persuaded you to buy this nice sturdy table when you wanted to turn this boathouse into a games room,” Jared punctuates his words with sharp nips to Jensen’s neck and now Jared’s stolen Jensen’s words as well, because he knows what comes next. He doesn’t resist when Jared spins him around and bends him forwards, spread-eagled across the green baize. He only breathes heavier when Jared’s hands make short work of unfastening Jensen’s jeans and exposing his ass to the world. Luckily the world isn’t paying attention, only Jared’s doing that. Very close attention. Jensen closes his eyes and lets Jared shape his world with those big hands.
Just as well he bought the top of the range, real slate topped pool table all right. A lesser piece of kit wouldn’t have lasted long being fucked over so often. Jensen smiles, even while Jared’s pounding into him like he’s afraid the world he’s created won’t be enough.
Jensen can feel the chill starting to seep into his bones. The rain is soft but persistent, and he’s soaked through. It doesn’t matter. Over to the west there’s a break in the clouds, and pale yellow sunshine is spearing through, gilding the lake surface where it falls. He looks round and sure enough, there’s a rainbow forming.
“Time to go, Jay,” he says. He unscrews the silver top on the urn and sits for a moment, wondering how to do this. It’s kind of obscene that Jared could have been reduced to this tiny pile of dust. Such a lively personality, such a shining bright light, such a fucking big heart, all compressed into a space the size of Jensen’s two clenched fists.
“It’s okay, Jen. That isn’t me in there any more, you know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just…”
“Just ashes, Jen. That’s all. Let it go.”
So Jensen does.
tebtosca 's Boathouse memeThe J2 Non-AU Renaissance Fanworks Meme
Title: Boathouse Blues
Words: ~1200
Rating: Mild NC17
Genre: J2 slash
Warnings: major character death - read the prompt!
Prompt: Oldie J1 comes back to the boathouse to spread J2 ashes on the lake. While in there, he can't help going down memory lane and revise the happy and not happy times they had together in the boathouse.
Boathouse Blues
“Here we are then,” he says, and carefully sits them down on the considerately cushioned loungers so he can contemplate the view over the water. It’s probably a mistake to sit on something this low, his ancient knees will have trouble when he tries to get up, but he’s feeling a little fragile, and he just needs a few restful moments with his old friend before he completes the task he’s here for.
The surface of Lake Austin is silken smooth today, and gleams in shades of steel grey, burnished like a knife where it reflects the rain-laden clouds. The Texas October air is still warm, and carries the scents of autumn from all around the boathouse – damp earth, fallen leaves and the freshwater smell of the Colorado River.
“Remember when we first came down here? It was so hot; the sunlight reflecting off the water was dazzling, but it was your smile that blinded me.”
“Listen to you, old man. Everyone used to think I was the romantic, but here you are. Reminiscing about a long lost past like a lovelorn teenage girl.”
“Oh screw you, J. I’m the manliest man that ever lived, everyone says so. Besides, I’m not the one who cried watching Frozen with the kids. Every time.”
“Shut up! You cried too,” he says, grinning.
A companionable silence falls. He looks out past the two empty bays in the boathouse, out over the water, mesmerised by the expanding ripples as a soft rain starts to fall. He doesn’t need to close his eyes to remember; it’s all there, clearer than yesterday.
****
Two pairs of shoes abandoned on the deck, a silver trail of footprints leading to the edge. Jensen’s laughing as he tugs on his buoyancy jacket, chasing Jared to the two jet skis bobbing on the water where they are moored to the jetty. They can both feel Clif rolling his eyes as they wrestle for possession of the first jet ski – Jared wins, of course, and Jensen jumps onto the second machine with a yell of Fuck you Padalecki, before they both gun the engines into life and roar out onto the lake to shatter the peace of their neighbours.
An hour later and they’ve raced a couple of times – it’s one all – and stopped by the side of the lake for a breather and a photo op with an excited fan, and they are ready for a beer or two. Jared hasn’t stopped laughing, his stupid flowery shorts are soaked through and clinging to his thighs, and Jensen thinks his friend is so beautiful it hurts.
An hour later and they’ve raced a couple of times – it’s one all – and stopped by the side of the lake for a breather and a photo op with an excited fan, and they are ready for a beer or two. Jared hasn’t stopped laughing, his stupid flowery shorts are soaked through and clinging to his thighs, and Jensen thinks his friend is so beautiful it hurts.
****
The rain is coming down heavier now, the drumming on the boathouse roof drowning out the sound of his breathing. Part of him finds it annoying, but another part is glad of it. The fact that he’s still drawing breath when …well. His thought breaks off and his long fingers stroke the silken surface of the urn clasped between his knees. All of a sudden the boathouse feels claustrophobic, and he rises slowly to his feet. He knows they will be keeping an eye on him from the house, worried he might fall, but they also have strict instructions to leave him alone, and he knows they love him enough to give him these last private moments with his oldest friend.
His joints protest as he walks out of the cocooned shelter into the boatshed and its empty slips. The freshness of the breeze is welcome, and he makes his way to the edge of the left hand jetty. It’s probably stupid, but he doesn’t care. He kneels on the wooden boards, places the urn carefully to one side, then shuffles around until he’s in a position to swing his legs over the side to dangle above the water.
“Fuck,” he wheezes. “That was harder than it should be. Getting old sucks.”
He feels better now though; the rain hitting his face makes his tears disappear. His body is most likely going to regret it tomorrow, but for now, it is helping him pretend. Helping him remember times he wants to cherish and a few he would rather forget.
His joints protest as he walks out of the cocooned shelter into the boatshed and its empty slips. The freshness of the breeze is welcome, and he makes his way to the edge of the left hand jetty. It’s probably stupid, but he doesn’t care. He kneels on the wooden boards, places the urn carefully to one side, then shuffles around until he’s in a position to swing his legs over the side to dangle above the water.
“Fuck,” he wheezes. “That was harder than it should be. Getting old sucks.”
He feels better now though; the rain hitting his face makes his tears disappear. His body is most likely going to regret it tomorrow, but for now, it is helping him pretend. Helping him remember times he wants to cherish and a few he would rather forget.
****
Jared stands with his back to the room, staring out at the Lake. His shoulders are tight and he’s folded his arms across his stomach – whether it’s a barrier against something getting in or out, who could say?
“I can’t do this any more,” he says, without turning round.
Two hours later, Jared has gone and Jensen is still standing in the Boathouse where Jared left him, his insides turned to ice.
****
There are voices outside, a low rumble that barely registers a blip in Jensen’s concentration as he lines up cue against ball and draws his elbow back. He breathes in, steadies himself for the shot – and nearly tears a line in the baize on the table when two huge hands grab his hips from behind. He spins round, growling, and there’s Jared, larger than life, laughing down at him from that ridiculous height.
“Padalecki, you fucker!”
“Aw, come on Jen, you love me really,” Jared says, grinning, and leans in to steal a kiss and all the breath from Jensen’s body. Jared’s pressing right up into Jensen’s space, feeding him heat to compensate for the lack of air. Jensen can feel the hard line of Jared’s cock burning into his thigh as he is bent backwards against the pool table.
“Don’t tell me you aren’t glad I persuaded you to buy this nice sturdy table when you wanted to turn this boathouse into a games room,” Jared punctuates his words with sharp nips to Jensen’s neck and now Jared’s stolen Jensen’s words as well, because he knows what comes next. He doesn’t resist when Jared spins him around and bends him forwards, spread-eagled across the green baize. He only breathes heavier when Jared’s hands make short work of unfastening Jensen’s jeans and exposing his ass to the world. Luckily the world isn’t paying attention, only Jared’s doing that. Very close attention. Jensen closes his eyes and lets Jared shape his world with those big hands.
Just as well he bought the top of the range, real slate topped pool table all right. A lesser piece of kit wouldn’t have lasted long being fucked over so often. Jensen smiles, even while Jared’s pounding into him like he’s afraid the world he’s created won’t be enough.
****
Jensen can feel the chill starting to seep into his bones. The rain is soft but persistent, and he’s soaked through. It doesn’t matter. Over to the west there’s a break in the clouds, and pale yellow sunshine is spearing through, gilding the lake surface where it falls. He looks round and sure enough, there’s a rainbow forming.
“Time to go, Jay,” he says. He unscrews the silver top on the urn and sits for a moment, wondering how to do this. It’s kind of obscene that Jared could have been reduced to this tiny pile of dust. Such a lively personality, such a shining bright light, such a fucking big heart, all compressed into a space the size of Jensen’s two clenched fists.
“It’s okay, Jen. That isn’t me in there any more, you know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just…”
“Just ashes, Jen. That’s all. Let it go.”
So Jensen does.
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*sniffs*
That was freakin' beautiful!!!
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We *need* the cookies and milk after this!
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Actually, no, that's great! It means it worked... :D
Perfect
Re: Perfect
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Really great job <3
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*cries*
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So beautiful and emotional.
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Thank you.