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Fic: Sick Day
Sick Day
Fandom: Supernatural RPF
Rating: G
Characters: Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles
Summary: Filled my own prompt for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lauehime's commentfic meme. Back when they're sharing a house, Jared gets sick and stays home while Jensen goes to work. Jared doesn't want to stay in bed, but the couch isn't big enough to comfortably stretch out on, either. Jen comes home to find that Jared has made a nest of blankets on the living room floor and is sprawled across it, drooling on his pillow with the TV playing softly.
It’s 4:30 in the morning.
They have a 6:00 AM call, and Jared knows he should be getting out of bed, but he’s just finding it so damned difficult to muster up the energy to move.
The door of his bedroom is cracked open, and light is spilling in from the hallway. Jensen probably already peeked in to see if Jared was awake yet. Neither of them are really morning people, but Jensen’s always been better about getting up and doing what he needs to do. For Jared, it usually requires a considerable amount of caffeine before he even resembles a human being, let alone is able to function like one.
He presses his face into the pillow and groans, maneuvering his hand out from under his stomach to rub at his eyes. His whole body just feels heavy, and it seems harder than usual to force himself to get moving.
The dogs’ Jared radar must be working, because he hears the thumping of paws coming up the stairs and then two shadowy, four-legged figures trot into the dark bedroom and hop up onto his bed, tongues lolling as they pant happily at Jared. He sends them back down with a stern word and a finger pointed at the floor, because while he doesn’t mind dogs in his bed, they both know better than to jump onto furniture uninvited.
“Stay,” he mumbles, and then a cough erupts from somewhere in his chest, deep and congested. He covers his mouth with one hand, wincing at the tight feeling in his throat.
More than anything, he wants to just stay in bed and go back to sleep. But it’s a work day, and they have a ton of stuff to shoot, so he takes a deep breath and pushes himself up into a sitting position. The world starts spinning crazily so he stops there, sitting cross-legged with one hand pressed against his forehead, eyes closed.
“Padalecki, if you don’t get your ass out of—are you okay?” Jensen’s annoyed tone cuts off abruptly, turning into quiet concern. Jensen’s in his room, but Jared’s afraid to open his eyes, so he just shakes his head carefully.
“What’s wrong?” Jensen’s voice says. The bed dips a little as Jensen sits down next to him.
“Think I’m getting sick,” Jared says. He opens one eye in time to see Jensen bring one hand up, palm resting against Jared’s forehead. His hand is cool.
“I think you skipped right past the ‘getting sick’ part. You’re burning up, Jay. You always get sick this fast?” Jensen looks worried in the gloom of the dark bedroom.
Jared shrugs and nods, coughing against the back of his hand.
“Well, you’re sure as hell not going in today,” Jensen decides.
“No, I’ll be okay.” Jared tries to sound convincing, but as he climbs out of bed, the world spins alarmingly again and he has to sit back down for a second.
“Sure you will,” Jensen deadpans. “Look, stay here, get some rest. You can’t act if you can’t even stand up straight.”
Unable to think of anything clever to say – or anything at all really – Jared just nods in response. “Mmm’kay.”
Jensen pats him on the leg, motioning for him to get back in bed. “I mean it, now. Stay. Get better. I’ll go let the dogs out and get you something to eat, okay? Don’t move.”
“I can do that,” Jared mumbles sleepily, collapsing back onto his pillows.
Jensen brings him juice and oatmeal, wipes his forehead with a cool washcloth. He makes sure Jared takes a decongestant, and some nasty cough syrup that nearly makes him gag, and then Jensen’s phone buzzes – Clif is here – and he’s out the door with the promise to check in during the day.
Jared whispers goodbye, and drifts back to sleep.
* * *
jennybeeean…
Hey. Sorry I didn’t text before. Busy blocking a fight scene. How are you doing?
breing sik is boring
Yeah I know. How are you feeling?
bored. Your on tv
What?
seeason 1 is on tv. Yur such a baby…
Yeah, same to you Padalecki. I didn’t look like I was 16 in season 1.
Big green baby dean eyes. Hey rmmbember the girl with the hair
They all have hair, Jared.
Yeahbut the one who
Shut up, kid. You’re loopy.
…
Feeling any better?
i think my lungs dont work
Sorry, bud. I’ll be home at 7. Have you eaten since breakfast?
food is
Jared?
what
Did you eat?
thnk so im tired
Did you let the dogs out?
Yeah they wre boredd felt bad
Don’t feel bad. Get some sleep, okay?
Yyeeah.
…
hey jenny
What?
I’m sicck
I know.
Hom soon?
Yeah, we’re almost done.
Brng mor drugss
I promise.
* * *
True to his word, Jensen comes home armed with a bag full of Nyquil, Advil, cough syrup, tissues, and three kinds of Gatorade. The dogs both scramble down the stairs to get to him, and he drops his bags, leading them to the back door and letting them out into the yard.
The house is mostly dark as he comes up the stairs into the living room. The light over the kitchen sink is on, and there’s a flickering glow from the TV, but other than that, everything is in shadow. Jensen rounds the corner at the top of the stairs, and finds a mess of epic proportions.
There are blankets and socks abandoned on the floor. The coffee table, end tables, and the tops of bookcases are littered with half empty bottles of water and glasses of juice. Tissues have overflowed the trashcan and are trying to colonize the couch, which has been stripped of all its cushions. And there in the middle of it all, sprawled atop a nest of couch cushions, pillows, and what looks like every blanket they own, is Jared, asleep on his stomach with his arms wrapped around a pillow and snoring softly.
Jensen chuckles and walks softly into the kitchen, pouring a fresh glass of juice – because who knows how long the others have been sitting there – and taking it and a fresh box of tissues with him back into the living room. He crouches down near Jared, reaching out a hand to nudge his shoulder.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “Jay, wake up.”
“Hrmmrhgh,” Jared responds, groaning into the pillow. He sniffles, coughs, and then blinks up at Jensen in the low light. “…h’lo,” he mumbles, voice gravelly and uneven.
“How’re you feeling?” Jensen asks, one hand smoothing down Jared’s messy hair to feel his forehead. He’s still running a pretty significant fever.
“Jen,” Jared whines. “I have the plague.” He wrinkles his nose, taking in a hesitant breath. “hh’DSHHH! Uh…hhh-uh… GSHHAH! …Ow.”
Jensen winces in sympathy and hands him a tissue. “So, uh, what happened to staying in bed?” he asks, surveying the giant pile of blankets.
“Mmm, ‘s too far. Kept getting up anyway. Stuff is here,” Jared replies, voice getting scratchier and more strained by the minute.
“So you built Fort Jared.”
“Zzactly.”
“Good plan.” Jensen nods in approval before reaching over to the coffee table. “Here. Drink.” He hands Jared the glass of apple juice, which the younger man starts drinking slowly, wincing with each swallow. “You take any more meds since this morning?”
“I… don’t think so?” Jared answers, sounding unsure. “Mostly zoned out, watched TV.”
“Yeah, I heard.” Jensen laughs. “Watching yourself all day, huh, you narcissist?”
“Better than infomercials.” Jared sets the empty glass on the carpet outside his domain.
“Gee, what a ringing endorsement. Supernatural: better than infomercials.”
“You’re mean. I’m sick.” Jared coughs pathetically, as if to emphasize his point.
“Sorry.” Jensen affectionately pats him on the back. “You’re absolutely right. What do you say I make it up to you? I’ll order a pizza, and you can try to stay awake through a movie?”
Jared considers this for a moment. “…Can I stay here?”
“Is there room enough for two?”
“Sure, but I might infect you.”
“Ah, well. Tomorrow’s my day off.”
Fandom: Supernatural RPF
Rating: G
Characters: Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles
Summary: Filled my own prompt for
lauehime's commentfic meme. Back when they're sharing a house, Jared gets sick and stays home while Jensen goes to work. Jared doesn't want to stay in bed, but the couch isn't big enough to comfortably stretch out on, either. Jen comes home to find that Jared has made a nest of blankets on the living room floor and is sprawled across it, drooling on his pillow with the TV playing softly.It’s 4:30 in the morning.
They have a 6:00 AM call, and Jared knows he should be getting out of bed, but he’s just finding it so damned difficult to muster up the energy to move.
The door of his bedroom is cracked open, and light is spilling in from the hallway. Jensen probably already peeked in to see if Jared was awake yet. Neither of them are really morning people, but Jensen’s always been better about getting up and doing what he needs to do. For Jared, it usually requires a considerable amount of caffeine before he even resembles a human being, let alone is able to function like one.
He presses his face into the pillow and groans, maneuvering his hand out from under his stomach to rub at his eyes. His whole body just feels heavy, and it seems harder than usual to force himself to get moving.
The dogs’ Jared radar must be working, because he hears the thumping of paws coming up the stairs and then two shadowy, four-legged figures trot into the dark bedroom and hop up onto his bed, tongues lolling as they pant happily at Jared. He sends them back down with a stern word and a finger pointed at the floor, because while he doesn’t mind dogs in his bed, they both know better than to jump onto furniture uninvited.
“Stay,” he mumbles, and then a cough erupts from somewhere in his chest, deep and congested. He covers his mouth with one hand, wincing at the tight feeling in his throat.
More than anything, he wants to just stay in bed and go back to sleep. But it’s a work day, and they have a ton of stuff to shoot, so he takes a deep breath and pushes himself up into a sitting position. The world starts spinning crazily so he stops there, sitting cross-legged with one hand pressed against his forehead, eyes closed.
“Padalecki, if you don’t get your ass out of—are you okay?” Jensen’s annoyed tone cuts off abruptly, turning into quiet concern. Jensen’s in his room, but Jared’s afraid to open his eyes, so he just shakes his head carefully.
“What’s wrong?” Jensen’s voice says. The bed dips a little as Jensen sits down next to him.
“Think I’m getting sick,” Jared says. He opens one eye in time to see Jensen bring one hand up, palm resting against Jared’s forehead. His hand is cool.
“I think you skipped right past the ‘getting sick’ part. You’re burning up, Jay. You always get sick this fast?” Jensen looks worried in the gloom of the dark bedroom.
Jared shrugs and nods, coughing against the back of his hand.
“Well, you’re sure as hell not going in today,” Jensen decides.
“No, I’ll be okay.” Jared tries to sound convincing, but as he climbs out of bed, the world spins alarmingly again and he has to sit back down for a second.
“Sure you will,” Jensen deadpans. “Look, stay here, get some rest. You can’t act if you can’t even stand up straight.”
Unable to think of anything clever to say – or anything at all really – Jared just nods in response. “Mmm’kay.”
Jensen pats him on the leg, motioning for him to get back in bed. “I mean it, now. Stay. Get better. I’ll go let the dogs out and get you something to eat, okay? Don’t move.”
“I can do that,” Jared mumbles sleepily, collapsing back onto his pillows.
Jensen brings him juice and oatmeal, wipes his forehead with a cool washcloth. He makes sure Jared takes a decongestant, and some nasty cough syrup that nearly makes him gag, and then Jensen’s phone buzzes – Clif is here – and he’s out the door with the promise to check in during the day.
Jared whispers goodbye, and drifts back to sleep.
* * *
jennybeeean…
Hey. Sorry I didn’t text before. Busy blocking a fight scene. How are you doing?
breing sik is boring
Yeah I know. How are you feeling?
bored. Your on tv
What?
seeason 1 is on tv. Yur such a baby…
Yeah, same to you Padalecki. I didn’t look like I was 16 in season 1.
Big green baby dean eyes. Hey rmmbember the girl with the hair
They all have hair, Jared.
Yeahbut the one who
Shut up, kid. You’re loopy.
…
Feeling any better?
i think my lungs dont work
Sorry, bud. I’ll be home at 7. Have you eaten since breakfast?
food is
Jared?
what
Did you eat?
thnk so im tired
Did you let the dogs out?
Yeah they wre boredd felt bad
Don’t feel bad. Get some sleep, okay?
Yyeeah.
…
hey jenny
What?
I’m sicck
I know.
Hom soon?
Yeah, we’re almost done.
Brng mor drugss
I promise.
* * *
True to his word, Jensen comes home armed with a bag full of Nyquil, Advil, cough syrup, tissues, and three kinds of Gatorade. The dogs both scramble down the stairs to get to him, and he drops his bags, leading them to the back door and letting them out into the yard.
The house is mostly dark as he comes up the stairs into the living room. The light over the kitchen sink is on, and there’s a flickering glow from the TV, but other than that, everything is in shadow. Jensen rounds the corner at the top of the stairs, and finds a mess of epic proportions.
There are blankets and socks abandoned on the floor. The coffee table, end tables, and the tops of bookcases are littered with half empty bottles of water and glasses of juice. Tissues have overflowed the trashcan and are trying to colonize the couch, which has been stripped of all its cushions. And there in the middle of it all, sprawled atop a nest of couch cushions, pillows, and what looks like every blanket they own, is Jared, asleep on his stomach with his arms wrapped around a pillow and snoring softly.
Jensen chuckles and walks softly into the kitchen, pouring a fresh glass of juice – because who knows how long the others have been sitting there – and taking it and a fresh box of tissues with him back into the living room. He crouches down near Jared, reaching out a hand to nudge his shoulder.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “Jay, wake up.”
“Hrmmrhgh,” Jared responds, groaning into the pillow. He sniffles, coughs, and then blinks up at Jensen in the low light. “…h’lo,” he mumbles, voice gravelly and uneven.
“How’re you feeling?” Jensen asks, one hand smoothing down Jared’s messy hair to feel his forehead. He’s still running a pretty significant fever.
“Jen,” Jared whines. “I have the plague.” He wrinkles his nose, taking in a hesitant breath. “hh’DSHHH! Uh…hhh-uh… GSHHAH! …Ow.”
Jensen winces in sympathy and hands him a tissue. “So, uh, what happened to staying in bed?” he asks, surveying the giant pile of blankets.
“Mmm, ‘s too far. Kept getting up anyway. Stuff is here,” Jared replies, voice getting scratchier and more strained by the minute.
“So you built Fort Jared.”
“Zzactly.”
“Good plan.” Jensen nods in approval before reaching over to the coffee table. “Here. Drink.” He hands Jared the glass of apple juice, which the younger man starts drinking slowly, wincing with each swallow. “You take any more meds since this morning?”
“I… don’t think so?” Jared answers, sounding unsure. “Mostly zoned out, watched TV.”
“Yeah, I heard.” Jensen laughs. “Watching yourself all day, huh, you narcissist?”
“Better than infomercials.” Jared sets the empty glass on the carpet outside his domain.
“Gee, what a ringing endorsement. Supernatural: better than infomercials.”
“You’re mean. I’m sick.” Jared coughs pathetically, as if to emphasize his point.
“Sorry.” Jensen affectionately pats him on the back. “You’re absolutely right. What do you say I make it up to you? I’ll order a pizza, and you can try to stay awake through a movie?”
Jared considers this for a moment. “…Can I stay here?”
“Is there room enough for two?”
“Sure, but I might infect you.”
“Ah, well. Tomorrow’s my day off.”