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The First Annual Padalecki-Ackles Christmastime Extravaganza! By Merrin
"It’s a phone, J," Jensen says. "We’ve been over this before…" "That was my mom," Jared says, still looking at the phone. "Jeff’s going to Mandy’s for the holidays, and Megan’s friend invited her to Europe or something. My parents got tickets on a cruise in the Bahamas. For Christmas." Jensen knows not to mock this moment. He knows that the Texas Padalecki Christmas is important to Jared, definitely more important than the Ackles Christmas is to Jensen. Maybe more important than the Vatican Christmas is to the Pope. "What are you going to do?" Jared drops his phone on the couch and crouches down next to Sadie, tugs on her ears a bit. It’s a stall, but Jensen lets him do it. "I guess I’ll stay here," he finally says. "No one will be in Texas." "Dude, I just got this call yesterday. Josh and Mac are with friends; Mom’s driving Dad to a beach somewhere. I was just going to go to a cousin’s, but whatever. I can stay here." Jared looks up at that. "No, man," he says quickly. "You go be with family." "What, and leave you alone and miserable with the dogs?" Jared opens his mouth like he’s going to argue some more, but Jensen’s already made his mind up. "First Christmas in your own house, I got to help you do it up right." "But it’s not my first-" "First time you’re actually having Christmas in it, right? Come on." "Where-" But Jensen’s already shoving him out the door, using one foot to hold back the mutts, who are definitely not coming. "We’re gonna need a lot of lights," Jensen says. "And a tree." They head down to the Christmas tree lot near the Canadian Tire. Jared’s got decently high ceilings in the living room and Jensen’s pretty determined to use every inch of space. He thinks he might have overestimated when they leave with a twelve foot tree, but Jared’s got a saw in the garage and they can adjust as needed. They get into an argument in the store, colored lights versus white, but Jensen lets Jared win because, as Jared says in the checkout line, "It’s my fucking house." "Aw, honey. I thought you wanted to think of it as ‘our’ house," Jensen says, and winks at the cashier, who blushes and stammers as she swipes Jared’s card. They try to outdo each other, finding places on the house to hang the icicle lights. Jensen’s pretty sure Jared lets him win this time, after he climbs onto the roof to wrap the last string of lights around the lip of Jared’s chimney. "Are they even connected to the rest of the strands?" Jared yells up from the yard. "Dude, have a little faith," Jensen calls back down, plugging them into the lights already attached to the gutters. He carefully climbs back down to the ground. It’s not really dark enough yet to see the full effect, but Jensen’s pretty sure it’s going to be awesome. Jared wraps his gigantic arm around Jensen’s shoulders as they survey their handiwork. "Now we’re ready for Christmas," Jared says. --- "Dude, you didn’t." Jensen almost—but not quite—snorts coffee out his nose when he sees the look on Jared’s face. "Oh, but I did," he says. Jared’s holding up the pièce de résistance of Jensen’s holiday shopping—the last copy of High School Musical 3 Dance! that the game store had in stock. "I had to fight people off for that thing," Jensen says. "Tell me they weren’t twelve-years-old." "They might have been the mothers of twelve-year-olds." Jared squints at him. "I don’t even believe you. I bet you just had to smile or something and they handed it over freely." And actually, that is more along the lines of the way it went down, but Jensen’s not going to tell Jared that. "Whatever, dude. Every man for himself at Christmastime." "Yeah, that’s the holiday spirit." "Shut up and hook up the Wii." Later, after they fought over who had to dance as Sharpay and Jared had challenged Jensen to a dance off to Bop to the Top and they’ve both collapsed in two sweaty heaps on the couch, Jared nudges Jensen with his toe. "Hey," he says. "So this Christmas hasn’t totally sucked."
Jared grins then and Jensen’s stomach makes a long, slow turn. Jared’s smile makes him stupid, it always has. All thoughts leave his mind except for want and mine and please keep smiling. He’s almost shaky with want, with the desire to keep the smile on Jared’s face, to maybe trace it with his fingers, his tongue. He tears his eyes away finally, watches Harley lick at discarded balls of paper. "You’re, uh." He chokes when he can finally speak again. "You’re welcome," he finally says, and smiles back.
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