Bimbo Baggins (cherie_morte) wrote in infatuated_ink,
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Real Person Fic – CW: Underneath the Mistletoe [Slow Show!Verse Timestamp]

Title: Underneath the Mistletoe
Fandom: Real Person Fic – CW
Characters/Pairings: Jared/Jensen
Genre: Holiday Schmoop
Rating: PG-13 for Suggested Sexuality. Also, this is kind of kidfic, so BEWARE.
Word Count: 2,510
Author’s Note: My first ever timestamp to my spn_j2_bigbang Slow Show. I think it should make sense without having read the original story, but it’ll probably mean less. This is a little holiday gift for my beloved marciaelena. The story was actually her idea—she emailed me about it while she was still working on the art for the big bang and I flailed and have been resisting writing it since then (because I am probably in the minority about wanting Christmas fic in July, am I right?). Hopefully this will do justice to what you originally thought of, Mars. I hope it cheers you up as you have done for me so many times, and that you have a wonderful holiday season and new year. I love you so, so much. *hugs* I decided to post this without a beta, so please throw any mistake related vegetables at this guy.
Summary: Non-AU Slow Show Verse: Jared and Jensen have been together for a few years. It’s Christmas and Jensen decides to dress up as Santa—but someone beats him to Santa’s cookies.

Jensen slowly lowers the bag he’s carrying and leans in the doorway, watching Jared with amusement. Jared’s tip-toeing from the hallway, looking over his shoulder at the bedroom he undoubtedly thinks he left Jensen asleep in, a smug smile on his face.

He must think he’s being very subtle, even though he’s making all the noise an elephant would make attempting to tip-toe, because he rubs his hands wickedly and descends on his goal.

Jensen clears his throat meaningfully. “I believe those are mine.”

Jared freezes at the sound of his voice, clearly recognizing that he’s busted. “I don’t see your name on them,” he says.

“Don’t you?” Jensen asks.

Jared turns to face him, a gingerbread Santa clutched in one hand and a Christmas tree, already missing its star, in the other. His mouth is stuffed, but he stops mid-chew, and his eyes widen when he sees Jensen. He looks back to the plate, at the “For Santa” card bearing their son’s messy handwriting, and slowly places the cookies back where he got them from, swallowing quickly and snickering.

“Wow, Jensen. That’s, uh. That’s really attractive. You get all dressed up like that for me?”

“No, asshole,” Jensen replies. “I got all dressed up like this so Jake would have a real Santa if he came looking. And if he had? You would have just destroyed his childhood by calling me Jensen.”

Jared only looks a little guilty. “I’m an awful person, Santa,” he confesses. “You should put me on your naughty list.”

“You’re hitting on me? Really? Like this? I don’t think I wanted to know about that particular kink, Jared.”

“I can’t help it. I like older men.”

Jensen smiles despite himself.

Jared picks his Christmas tree cookie back up. “I’m sure you don’t mind sharing, right? You’re a giving guy and all.”

Jensen grabs the sack of wrapped gifts at his feet and steps into the room, approaching Jared.

“Not even gonna let me have the first one?” Jensen asks.

“You can still have it if you want, you’ll just have to take it straight from me.” Jared draws close, begins humming “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” as he tries to press his lips to Jensen’s. Jensen pulls back.

“Mistletoe is a vital part of that, you know. We don’t have any.”

Jared frowns and looks around the room. His eyes light on the tree and he smiles like, well, like a kid on Christmas.

He breaks one of the rare undecorated branches off the tree (of course, Jared is going out of his way to minimize all of Jensen’s attempts at keeping it from getting too cluttered) and holds it over Jensen’s head.

“Ta da,” Jared singsongs.

“That’s not mistletoe, genius.”

Jared sighs. “You’re an actor, Jensen. Act.”

Jensen thinks about letting him win, giving him a quick kiss for effort, but it’s too much fun not to.

Santa,” he corrects. “And I’m a professional. Amateur props just aren’t going to cut it.”

“My, aren’t we particular?” Jared moves away from the Christmas corner of their living room and falls onto the couch, inclining his head so Jensen will take the spot next to him.

Jensen watches the colors from the blinking lights on the tree shift across Jared’s face and abandons his sacred duties as a Santa, leaving the sack of gifts resting forgotten on the floor.

“You know, come to think of it, we really shouldn’t do this. I mean, just think about it. The poor kid in that song is forever going to think his mother gives it up for Saint Nick while his dad sleeps innocently. Jake may never forgive you for your infidelity.”

“One little kiss,” Jared says obligingly once Jensen’s in place. “It’s all I want for Christmas.”

Jensen raises an eyebrow, even though he knows Jared won’t see it behind the wig and hat. “I guess Santa should return that expensive gift he got you, then.”

“Now, now, Santa. There’s no need to be stingy.”

Jensen smiles as Jared leans across the sofa, giving him a quick kiss on the nose before resting his face in Jensen’s fake beard.

“You know, if those aren’t gone tomorrow, Jake is gonna know Santa wasn’t here.”

Jensen hums the affirmative, focusing his attention on running fingers through Jared’s hair.

“I was just trying to help make the illusion more convincing, is all. Same as you.”

“So generous.”

Jared pokes him in the chest, fingers working through long, white hair. He makes a face. “This is pretty unsexy, if I’m being honest.”

“Ten minutes and already you want off the naughty list?”

Jared laughs quietly, burying his face in Jensen. “Hey. How about I help you out with loading up the Christmas tree, Santa? And then maybe you can go see if you can find my boyfriend in our room, and he can come back out and share those cookies with me.”

“Sounds fair.”

They work in silence, aside from the occasional clacking every time Jared finds a gift that’s for him and begins to shake it.

“You could break something like that, you know,” Jensen points out.

Jared sticks a tongue out and continues rattling a gift from his brother, a large blue box with a yellow ribbon.

Once they’ve managed to Tetris-stack too many gifts under the tree, Jensen goes back to their room to change, hoping the jingling of the bells sewed onto his shirt is enough to wake Jake just long enough for him to get a glimpse of Santa.

He comes back out a few minutes later. Jared is sitting on the couch and has moved the plate of cookies for Santa to the coffee table, where there are now two glasses of milk. Jensen’s chest tightens up at all the almost-forgotten memories suddenly flitting through his head. He feels his stomach tossing from the emotions it brings up, all the longing and happiness and loss and gain. It feels like ancient history now, like he and Jared are paying homage to something that happened to two very different people.

He can tell that Jared is remembering, too. Jared looks up at him tentatively, like he’s not sure how Jensen will react to having their long-lost tradition so suddenly resurrected.

“Santa’s milk was cold,” Jared explains. “And I know you don’t like cold milk with your…”

Jared bites his lower lip and looks to the table. Jensen gets the urge to jump on the couch and hold on too tight, and he just hardly resists it.

“God, how long has it been since we ate cookies at night together like this?”

Jared laughs lightly. “Not since we left Vancouver.”

Jensen sits next to him, presses a kiss into the side of his neck.

“I like the boxers, Mr. Clause,” Jared says. “Red really is your color, but I think less is more this time.”

“Well, thank you, Mrs. Clause,” Jensen teases. “I like that you prepared a snack for me. Did you wear that apron I got you? It would match your dress perfectly.”

“You’re the one who wears aprons,” Jared points out, and Jensen chooses not to reply, because, considering the fact that he was on cookie-baking duty while Jared was out Christmas shopping, it’s actually true.

“I’m excited,” Jensen says, grabbing a cookie off the plate and dipping it in his milk.

Jared’s hand slides onto his thigh, rests there, confident and strong and possessive. “Yeah?”

Jensen nods as he takes a bite.

“Don’t be, they taste like crap. Whoever made them can’t bake for shi—”

Jensen growls and tackles Jared onto the other side of the couch.

“They’re amazing and you know it,” Jensen says once Jared’s secured under him.

Jared shakes his head like the pain-in-the-ass he is, then pulls Jensen down for a long, lazy kiss.

“Stop it,” a small voice says from the doorway.

Jensen sits up, and Jared takes the chance to shove him away.

“Hey, Jake,” Jared says happily. “Did you see Santa came and left you presents?”

“I saw. You blockheads missed him because you were too busy stealing his cookies.”

“Yeah, Jensen. Why’d you steal Santa’s cookies?”

Jensen shoves Jared.

“No, no, we didn’t steal them,” Jensen explains, digging for material. “He, uh. He gave them to us.”

Jake puts his hands on his waist and gives Jensen a look that says he knows exactly how full of shit he is.

“He had a few, but he couldn’t have them all. See, he’s on a diet this year. Mrs. Clause insisted.”

“Mrs. Clause wears the pants like that.”

Jensen elbows Jared and smiles at their son, hoping he’s convincing.

“He made sure we promised to save some for you,” Jared adds.

Of course, ‘you can have a cookie’ is all the explanation the kid needs to buy what they’re saying, and Jensen is only a little jealous he didn’t think of it first. Jake smiles and runs excitedly to sit between them. “Really? Does that mean I’m on the good list this year?”

“The best,” Jared says, kissing him on the top of his head.

They finish the cookies off pretty quickly and Jared offers to read Jake a story to help him get to sleep. Jensen stands in the doorway and watches Jared read the opening lines of The Night Before Christmas before he heads to the kitchen to wash the dishes and glasses from their snack session.

He comes back to find that both Jared and Jake are sleeping, Jared crammed into the too-small bed with the book in his lap, and Jake curled half on top of him. He smiles at the image, Jake’s dark skin standing out against Jared’s, and Jared so much bigger than him that it almost looks like Jared’s a kid cuddling a doll until you get close enough to differentiate.

Jensen gently pries the book out of Jared’s hands and gives both Jared and Jake a small kiss before turning off the light and heading back to bed.

At some point in the night, Jared wakes up and sneaks back into bed with Jensen, because Jensen has Jared attached to his side in the morning, limbs weaving around his body like a vine that grew overnight.

Jensen shakes him lightly, and Jared blinks up at him slowly. At first he presses a kiss to Jensen’s mouth, unhurried, exactly the same as every other morning in the year. But after a few seconds, Jared freezes against his lips, and Jensen knows the moment is buried. Jared’s just remembered what day it is.

“It’s Christmas, isn’t it?”

Jensen feels his lips tugging up and nods. Jared makes a squealing sound and claps his hands, jumping out of bed and grabbing Jensen’s hand to pull him along. Less energetic, Jensen follows.

They stop halfway down the hallway to wake Jake up and have somehow acquired two canine companions, as well, by the time they reach the living room. Jensen sets Jake on the floor and lets him run for the tree, Harley following curiously, and Jared only a few steps behind.

Jensen and Sadie hang back, watching the procession of flailing limbs and torn paper with the same wary expression.

He loses his companionship when Jared tosses a chew toy out to her, so Jensen figures he might as well give up on trying to act dignified. Something hits him in the face as he approaches and he yanks it off.

“No,” he says as soon as he gets a look at the object in his hand.

“You gotta,” Jared insists, pulling an equally heinous sweater over his own head. “Mama made it for you.”

“No,” Jensen repeats.

“You don’t like my mama’s present?” Jared asks, turning those stupidly big, sad eyes on him. Jensen sighs, fighting his way through the red and green wool.

By the time the sweater is in place, Jake’s got one on, too, and Jensen decides he’s officially throwing a fit if there are matching sweaters for the dogs. Thankfully, Jared tosses the empty box aside after Jake’s and moves on to the next box in front of him.

“This one’s for you, Jensen,” Jared says, holding it out. “It’s from Mrs. Clause.”

He winks as Jensen takes the box and turns his attention to the train set Jake is unwrapping.

“Did Santa bring you that? I had a set just like it when I was your age.”

“You have a set just like it now, Jared,” Jensen teases.

Jared ignores him, grabs Jake into his lap. “You wanna build a city with your blocks later? We can drive the train through it.”

“Yeah,” Jake smiles. “And then Harley can try to eat the village and my superhero action figures will save the day.”

Jared picks up the conductor hat that came included with the train set and places it on their son’s head. “Whatever you say, you’re the boss.”

He turns to look at Jensen, who just shakes his head. “Those were always amongst the more peaceful toys when I was a kid.”

Jared laughs. “Really? We used to smash the towns ourselves.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Because Jeff was clearly a terrible influence.”

“Oh, yeah. You would never do anything destructive.”

Jared shakes his head, making an innocent face. He rubs the spot on the floor next to him and Jensen moves forward, sitting Indian-style on the edge of the tree’s skirt.

“Hey, Merry Christmas, Jen,” Jared whispers into Jensen’s ear. Jensen smiles, kisses him briefly, and begins to unwrap his first gift.

After a while, Jared and Jake have exhausted their gift supplies and are ready to move on to breakfast. They watch some Christmas special on the couch while Jensen makes pancakes and sets out powdered sugar. Like every year, they sit at the table with their three matching J sweaters, powdering snow onto their breakfast, and by the time Jared is collecting the dishes, Jake’s face is plastered in powdered sugar, and Jensen is left wondering if he does it on purpose.

When they’re settling into bed for the night, even Jared is exhausted enough to be ready to say goodbye to Christmas. Jake passed out mid-It’s a Wonderful Life hours ago, and because Jared is sick and twisted, he made Jensen sit up through the rest of it, anyway.

He makes up for it with a Christmas blowjob once the kid is securely in bed, knocked out after his sugar-high and too many hours running around. Jared wraps an arm around Jensen as he settles into place, smiling into Jensen’s shoulder.

“Mmm, best Christmas ever, don’t you think?”

Jensen huffs out a laugh. “You said that last year, Jared. And the year before.”

“I meant it last year.” Jared squeezes around Jensen’s middle. “I mean it more this year, though.”

“I love you,” Jensen murmurs, already half asleep. Jared makes a content sound that Jensen interrupts. “Probably less than last year, though.”

Jared laughs. “You’re so full of shit,” he whispers, only pulling Jensen closer.

And yeah, Jensen really is.

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Tags: real person fic: cw, slow show!verse

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