Meet In The Middle
Jan. 21st, 2014 08:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexisjaneTitle - Meet In The Middle
Pairing - Jensen/Jared
Rating - PG-13
Word count - 730ish
Warnings - Mention of oral sex, self indulgent writing.
Notes - I am obsessed with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
homo_pink and she is very tolerant. After podficcing, Large Enough To Hold A Man and breaking my heart over it again, I saw a prompt/plea in the comments from pomavera "I somehow imagine there's a sequel to this story where somewhere a Jensen exists, with an imaginary friend Jared. That would make the most magical love story." and the plot bunny descended.
Read this first if you haven't already Large Enough To Hold A Man or Listen Here
Meet In The Middle
He could have sworn he was awake.
Could have swore it. Remembers getting up and starting the day, eating, drinking, driving the car, doing all the things a person does, not dreams. But now.
He must be dreaming. Except the dream is wrong, is different and it's never different. At least not like this.
He dreams it every night. And every night the dream is different.
Boat rides that end in wet feet. Bus rides with talking animals. Fairgrounds with strange and complex rules. Fixing the copier in the office that smells like mice. Walking through the park when the cherry blossom is falling. Watching the planets in the sky spin and grow large and spin away again. Getting his dick sucked by the guy from the grocery store. Kissing the boy. The brown eyed boy. The one that's in every dream. Every night. Every sleeping moment.
The one that always carries a book and barely smiles, except at him. The one that never says a word, except for him. The one his therapist says is his broken childhood personified, trauma of his disrupted existence, longing for comfort, for togetherness, for continuity. His therapist says a lot of things but this...this is the one he can't quite make fit.
Because he's been dreaming it forever. When he was in college, he'd be carrying piles of books that were stacked so high they kept slipping from his hands and the brown eyed boy walking beside him, reading aloud in his sweet, soft voice that wasn't quite right but sent a warm slice right through his body, cutting him into pieces with the words that are just for him, only him.
Because he's been dreaming it forever. When he was in high school, nightmare eyes looking out from beneath the bleachers as the other kids ran and cheered and blessedly ignored him for a while and the brown eyed boy putting sticking plasters on his scuffed knees and wiping away his dust streaked tears and telling him that it didn't matter what they said and that he wasn't any of the things they called him but couldn't hold tight enough to him when they found him and dragged him out of his hiding place, screaming out a name.
Because he had been dreaming it forever. From the first night in a strange place, a strange bed, after he'd kept his promise to never, never forget and had drifted into unconsciousness repeating that name over and over and over, seeing that face clear and true in his mind, so he wouldn't forget because of a promise. We just have to try
Because he'd been dreaming it forever. Except this dream is wrong. Because everything's dreamlike, so feasibly fictional. Except the brown eyed boy. Tall, and wide and not any kind of a boy. And it shouldn't be him but it is. It's unmistakeable.
The way he turns the page of the book. The way he won't look at the people handing him their library cards. The shape of his mouth before he speaks and when he does…when he does Jensen is cut through once more, so deep he thinks he might bleed with the shock of it. He thinks he might cry, He thinks he might be going mad. And all he wants is to reach out and touch, press his fingers in the wounds and be saved.
Because he's been dreaming it forever. That his life would flip, that his dream would be his waking life and his waking life would be only half remembered, blowing away in the mornings minutes, forgotten and not missed because he'd have the whole day ahead of him and the brown eyed boy in front of him.
But all he can do is sit there, his heart choking his mouth, preventing air from entering his lungs, so when the boy passes by, his eyes on the floor, Jensen tries to get the name out but it ends on his lips, like the silent mantra every night before he goes to sleep. For as long as he can remember. Even when he forgot what it meant. Forgot what he'd promised.
Jared. Jared. Jared…
And his mouth keeps working and he will get the word out. He will. Loud enough to be heard. Loud enough to be seen.
He will do it. Just try
Pairing - Jensen/Jared
Rating - PG-13
Word count - 730ish
Warnings - Mention of oral sex, self indulgent writing.
Notes - I am obsessed with
homo_pink and she is very tolerant. After podficcing, Large Enough To Hold A Man and breaking my heart over it again, I saw a prompt/plea in the comments from pomavera "I somehow imagine there's a sequel to this story where somewhere a Jensen exists, with an imaginary friend Jared. That would make the most magical love story." and the plot bunny descended.Read this first if you haven't already Large Enough To Hold A Man or Listen Here
Meet In The Middle
He could have sworn he was awake.
Could have swore it. Remembers getting up and starting the day, eating, drinking, driving the car, doing all the things a person does, not dreams. But now.
He must be dreaming. Except the dream is wrong, is different and it's never different. At least not like this.
He dreams it every night. And every night the dream is different.
Boat rides that end in wet feet. Bus rides with talking animals. Fairgrounds with strange and complex rules. Fixing the copier in the office that smells like mice. Walking through the park when the cherry blossom is falling. Watching the planets in the sky spin and grow large and spin away again. Getting his dick sucked by the guy from the grocery store. Kissing the boy. The brown eyed boy. The one that's in every dream. Every night. Every sleeping moment.
The one that always carries a book and barely smiles, except at him. The one that never says a word, except for him. The one his therapist says is his broken childhood personified, trauma of his disrupted existence, longing for comfort, for togetherness, for continuity. His therapist says a lot of things but this...this is the one he can't quite make fit.
Because he's been dreaming it forever. When he was in college, he'd be carrying piles of books that were stacked so high they kept slipping from his hands and the brown eyed boy walking beside him, reading aloud in his sweet, soft voice that wasn't quite right but sent a warm slice right through his body, cutting him into pieces with the words that are just for him, only him.
Because he's been dreaming it forever. When he was in high school, nightmare eyes looking out from beneath the bleachers as the other kids ran and cheered and blessedly ignored him for a while and the brown eyed boy putting sticking plasters on his scuffed knees and wiping away his dust streaked tears and telling him that it didn't matter what they said and that he wasn't any of the things they called him but couldn't hold tight enough to him when they found him and dragged him out of his hiding place, screaming out a name.
Because he had been dreaming it forever. From the first night in a strange place, a strange bed, after he'd kept his promise to never, never forget and had drifted into unconsciousness repeating that name over and over and over, seeing that face clear and true in his mind, so he wouldn't forget because of a promise. We just have to try
Because he'd been dreaming it forever. Except this dream is wrong. Because everything's dreamlike, so feasibly fictional. Except the brown eyed boy. Tall, and wide and not any kind of a boy. And it shouldn't be him but it is. It's unmistakeable.
The way he turns the page of the book. The way he won't look at the people handing him their library cards. The shape of his mouth before he speaks and when he does…when he does Jensen is cut through once more, so deep he thinks he might bleed with the shock of it. He thinks he might cry, He thinks he might be going mad. And all he wants is to reach out and touch, press his fingers in the wounds and be saved.
Because he's been dreaming it forever. That his life would flip, that his dream would be his waking life and his waking life would be only half remembered, blowing away in the mornings minutes, forgotten and not missed because he'd have the whole day ahead of him and the brown eyed boy in front of him.
But all he can do is sit there, his heart choking his mouth, preventing air from entering his lungs, so when the boy passes by, his eyes on the floor, Jensen tries to get the name out but it ends on his lips, like the silent mantra every night before he goes to sleep. For as long as he can remember. Even when he forgot what it meant. Forgot what he'd promised.
Jared. Jared. Jared…
And his mouth keeps working and he will get the word out. He will. Loud enough to be heard. Loud enough to be seen.
He will do it. Just try
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Date: 2015-04-06 06:32 pm (UTC)<3