Title: In the Pink
Words: 725
Rating: G
Genre: Jared and Jensen live together.
The obvious: I actually have no clue what the real Jared and Jensen do in their house so am forced to make this stuff up.
To moodswinger's prompt: One of them turning all their laundry pink.


Jensen, somehow, has managed to get out of doing laundry pretty much every week since he moved in with Jared. He'll be running out of t-shirts, or underwear, or his last pair of jeans will be getting to that point where one more wear out of them is the last, and he'll start thinking he'd better throw a load in, and the next day he'll wake up to a laundry basket of clean clothes outside his door. He always says thanks, and Jared always says, no problem, doing mine anyway, and seems to mean it, and then Jensen forgets that maybe it should be his turn the next time.

Then Jared gets a nasty winter cold, the kind that settles in your chest, and he's lying on the sofa watching NFL highlights and feeling sorry for himself. Jensen brings him a cup of tea and tells him he stinks, and Jared pulls off his shirt and throws it in Jensen's face, and whoo, Jensen wasn't kidding about the stinking. When Jensen goes upstairs to get Jared something else to put on, he realizes that most of Jared's clothes are dirty. Most of his are, too, so he decides it's finally his turn to do laundry.

After he's gotten Jared settled with clean clothes(though the guy could really do with a shower, chest cold or not) and another cup of tea, Jensen gathers up all their stuff and takes it to the laundry room. Whites, mediums, and darks, three whole loads, and how do two boys make so much laundry? Jensen shoves the whites in the machine with the detergent and goes to see if Jared feels up to some Halo.

When the washer dings, forty minutes later, Jensen is glad to have a reason to put an end to the humiliation happening via X-Box. Jared is sick, what the hell? The humiliation isn't over however, because when he opens the machine, every white item of clothing he or Jared owns is pink.

Pale pink, darker pink, pink with pinker streaks, depending on the fabric, and on each item's proximity to--Jensen paws through the clothes--one of the three red bandannas mixed in with them.

Bandannas. What. The. Fuck.

Jensen is certain that he would have noticed three red bandannas when he was sorting laundry and that he would have not put them in the whites pile.

"Jared!!!"

Jensen leaves the clothes in a wet, pink clump in a laundry basket and goes out to commence the interrogation.

"Jensen?" Jared asks calmly, if a little snottily, from behind a handful of Kleenex.

"Why were there three red bandannas in your washing machine?"

"I got them for the dogs. But they need to be washed first; they come from the store all stiff. Why?"

Jensen takes a deep breath; no need to get shrill, just because he likes his whites, white. "Why would you put them in the machine instead of the hamper?"

"Machine's closer to the front door. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal," another calming breath, "is that now, all our clothes are pink."

Jared looks at him. And blinks.

Jensen blinks back.

"Why would you wash the whites first?"

Jensen blinks again. "Why wouldn't I wash the whites first?" He knows how to sort laundry. And not mix jeans with delicates, even. But he's pretty sure he's never heard that there's an order loads should go through the machine.

"There are way more dark clothes that can't go in the dryer. So you wash the darks first so they can be hanging dry while you wash the whites."

More blinking. Then, "That's stupid," Jensen says. Even though, really, it's not that stupid.

"I think you'll find it's smart." Jared's smirking. But the bastard regularly wears pink on purpose, so he would.

"Whatever." Jensen glares. "Do we have any bleach?"

"Cupboard over the dryer." Jared blows his nose again. "You look good in pink, though. I'm just saying."

Jensen stomps back to the laundry room and puts everything in with a few cups of bleach on a soak cycle. Everything except Jared's softest sleeping shirt, which has a particularly fetching bright pink swirl on a pale ground, right over the left side of the chest.

He does it just to prove a point.

Not because he thinks Jared looks good in pink, too.

\fic

Title: Who Needs Mistletoe?
Words: 780
Rating: PG
Genre: Jared and Jensen live together.
The obvious: I actually have no clue what the real Jared and Jensen do in their house so am forced to make this stuff up.
To tvm's prompt: Jared goes a bit overboard spiking the eggnog at Christmas, resulting in an incident with the Christmas tree... which he and Jensen end up wearing half of.


Jared's been waiting twenty minutes for Jensen to get home with the Cranberry Sauce. They knew they'd forget something, and Jared had Cranberry Sauce in the what-will-get-forgotten pool, which means Jensen was the one who had to brave Christmas Eve shopping to pick it up. In the mean time, Jared has plugged in the tree, put the Christmas music on the stereo, and mixed up a jug of eggnog. The smell of it takes him flashing back to shooting last year's Christmas episode, and he wonders for a minute if Jen's going to come back with crappy porn mags and shaving cream to go with the sauce.

He doesn't, but he does take the can of cranberries out of the bag and hand the crinkly brown paper, something else wrapped inside, to Jared, looking smug. It's a bag of gummi worms and a peppermint stick the size of Jared's cock.

"It's almost like you know me," Jared says, laughing.

"Where's my present, bitch?"

"Saving it for later." Jared does lewd things to the candy stick with his mouth, just in case Jensen isn't sure what kind of present Jared has planned. Then he hands Jensen his glass of nog.

As Jared hoped, Jensen's reaction to the spike is the same as Dean's, even though this time it's not the surprise it was then.

"Christ on a crutch, Jay. You trying to kill us with this stuff?"

Jared sips his own. Okay, maybe it is a little strong. Still good though.

Jensen starts in with the stories about the total fuckwits picking up last-minute things at the store, like the guy who was complaining loudly to anyone walking past that there were no more twenty pound turkeys, only twelve and twenty-five, and the woman who got into a rage over the lack of dinner-sized paper plates to match the dessert-sized ones she'd picked out. Jared listens, and rubs Jensen's thigh with his socked toes, and drinks his drink.

And pours another.

And another, once they've moved on to reminiscing about childhood Christmases. Then Jared cracks open the gummi worms. With all the eggnog he's consumed, the first one's extra slippery in his mouth when he sucks on it. "Mmmm," he says.

"Gimme one," Jensen says and reaches.

Jared clutches the bag to his chest. "My present."

"I bought them."

Jared pops another one in his mouth and then pulls it out all spit-shiny to dangle between his lips. "oo 'an 'ave dis un," he says, teeth clamped on the worm's head and lips pursed around it.

Jensen darts forwards and tries to catch it in his mouth, but Jared's on to him and leaps off the couch and away.

He thinks for a minute that Jensen isn't going to continue the game, and dangles the rest of the bag temptingly. While he's still doing that, Jensen stands on the couch and dives at him in a flying tackle.

Screaming like a girl (Jared's drunk enough to admit it), Jared half-catches him and they roll onto the floor. The noise brings Sadie and Harley in from the kitchen to investigate; Harley catches sight of the candy still in Jared's fist, and suddenly Jared's trying to keep his gummi stash away from two sets of gnashing teeth.

Jared's howling with laughter and shouting, "Mine, all mine!", Jensen is, for some reason Jared is totally not getting, shrieking, "I'll get you, my pretty! And your little dog, too!", and Harley and Sadie are scrabbling on the hardwood, making little woofing sounds as they dodge flying elbows and feet.

None of them are paying any attention to how close they are rolling to the tree. Until Jared looks up, through the gap of Jensen's armpit, which is right over his face, and sees the whole thing tipping onto them.

The dogs nearly escape unscathed, Harley ending up with only a little angel's hair draped over one ear and Sadie gaining a dusting of pine needles, but Jared and Jensen are right in its path and wind up with branches and ornaments poking them in uncomfortable places. Somehow, though, that's even funnier than keeping the gummi worms away from Jensen, and it's a good five minutes before either of them can stop laughing enough to get out from under. In the mean time, both dogs cover them in saliva out of concern.

Bing Crosby croons at Jared and Jensen while they right the tree, re-hang fallen ornaments, and check the wrapped gifts for crush injuries. Jared lets the dogs out one last time while Jensen sweeps up the needles that got shaken loose, and then they go upstairs where Jensen, thankfully, proves not to be too drunk for Jared to give him the Christmas eve present he was promised.

/fic