ext_18178 (
denyce.livejournal.com) wrote in
crack_van2009-02-28 11:47 am
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Entry tags:
And the Rest, As they Say, is History by Raina (NC-17)
Fandom: CW RPS
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Length: 17,769
Author on LJ:
raina_at
Author Website: na
Why this must be read: A high quality feel-good romance! I'm pretty sure I was grinning like an idiot throughout on the second and third read-through as much I did the first time. Meaning this is a saver, to be loved and read over and over. Bottom line; settle in to enjoy a delightful, fun au with a slice of *good* schmoopy romance. Author’s summary: Struggling actor Jensen takes a job as big-shot movie star Jared Padalecki’s dogsitter. And the rest, as they say, is history.
"Dog sitter?" Steve looks at Jensen as if he's lost his mind, which, admittedly, Jensen thinks, may not be altogether impossible.
"Yeah. Cozy job, good money, and I get to live in Jared Padalecki's pool house; ain't I the luckiest bastard ever lived?" Jensen drawls, taking the beer Steven hands him.
Steve lets himself fall down onto the couch next to Chris, who doesn't pay any attention to them, eyes fixed on the TV screen.
"So let me get this straight," Steve says, "You walk this guy's dogs; you take care of them, feed them, play with them and the likes, and he pays you for it, plus you get to live in his pool house?"
Jensen grins. "Yeah." He sits down next to Steve and looks at the People magazine article open on the couch table. Under the headline 'Sexiest Newcomer' is a picture of his new employer, Jared Padalecki, posing half-naked for his new movie, 'The Final Scream'. "Dogsitter. Don't you love these Hollywood types? A few successful movies, and he thinks he's Prince William."
Steve points at the article. "They paid him ten million dollars for his latest movie. Compared to us, man, he IS Prince fucking William."
Looking around his shabby apartment, Jensen has to admit that Steve's got a point. Steve and Chris at least have their band, and while they don't make loads of money like they rightfully should, at least they both have a steady income, while Jensen's last acting job is so long ago that his insurance has expired, which basically is the reason for this entire exercise.
Jensen shrugs and takes another swig of his beer. "Anyway, the guy's bound to be a sucker. He's just 24 and from San Antonio, meaning he's basically a hick kid making it big in LA. There's got to be a chance to make something of this, somehow."
"Sure, man, why not, there's bound to be some producers comin' there occasionally, maybe you can score a real job," Steve answers, putting his feet on the couch table.
"And while you're at it," Chris drawls, snatching Steve's beer from his hand, "tell Mr. Hollywood his latest movie sucked."
"If I ever get to meet him," Jensen murmurs, which, okay, it's been bugging him somewhat. He'd expected to meet Padalecki when he went to the house today, but he'd been 'far too busy', according to Sandra, and Jensen finds himself in the odd position to work for somebody he's never even met.
Steve shrugs and grabs the TV remote from Chris, ignoring Chris' outraged snort, changing channels from whatever shit Chris was watching to the game. "Dude, if you ever do get to meet Mr. ‘I’m Too Grand To Interview My Own Staff’, you're most likely gonna want to poison him. Or worse," Steve adds, chuckling meanly, "You'll actually like him."
Jensen groans, looking at the glossy pictures of Padalecki with Angelina Jolie, with Mischa Barton, with Whatshername, the blonde chick from Battlestar Galactica, sees the smile and the dimples - which, okay, yeah, are kind of hot - the expensive watch and the well-cut suits. "Yeah, right. And then I'll join Scientology and marry Tom Cruise."
"Stranger things have happened," Steve drawls. "At least you'll be moving out of this rathole."
Jensen looks around his small living room and thinks of the pool house, the large TV and satellite dish, the working fridge and clean bathroom. "I guess it could be worse," he says with a grin and lets himself sink back into the well-worn sofa to watch the Cowboys kick ass.
And the Rest, As they say, is History
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Length: 17,769
Author on LJ:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Author Website: na
Why this must be read: A high quality feel-good romance! I'm pretty sure I was grinning like an idiot throughout on the second and third read-through as much I did the first time. Meaning this is a saver, to be loved and read over and over. Bottom line; settle in to enjoy a delightful, fun au with a slice of *good* schmoopy romance. Author’s summary: Struggling actor Jensen takes a job as big-shot movie star Jared Padalecki’s dogsitter. And the rest, as they say, is history.
"Dog sitter?" Steve looks at Jensen as if he's lost his mind, which, admittedly, Jensen thinks, may not be altogether impossible.
"Yeah. Cozy job, good money, and I get to live in Jared Padalecki's pool house; ain't I the luckiest bastard ever lived?" Jensen drawls, taking the beer Steven hands him.
Steve lets himself fall down onto the couch next to Chris, who doesn't pay any attention to them, eyes fixed on the TV screen.
"So let me get this straight," Steve says, "You walk this guy's dogs; you take care of them, feed them, play with them and the likes, and he pays you for it, plus you get to live in his pool house?"
Jensen grins. "Yeah." He sits down next to Steve and looks at the People magazine article open on the couch table. Under the headline 'Sexiest Newcomer' is a picture of his new employer, Jared Padalecki, posing half-naked for his new movie, 'The Final Scream'. "Dogsitter. Don't you love these Hollywood types? A few successful movies, and he thinks he's Prince William."
Steve points at the article. "They paid him ten million dollars for his latest movie. Compared to us, man, he IS Prince fucking William."
Looking around his shabby apartment, Jensen has to admit that Steve's got a point. Steve and Chris at least have their band, and while they don't make loads of money like they rightfully should, at least they both have a steady income, while Jensen's last acting job is so long ago that his insurance has expired, which basically is the reason for this entire exercise.
Jensen shrugs and takes another swig of his beer. "Anyway, the guy's bound to be a sucker. He's just 24 and from San Antonio, meaning he's basically a hick kid making it big in LA. There's got to be a chance to make something of this, somehow."
"Sure, man, why not, there's bound to be some producers comin' there occasionally, maybe you can score a real job," Steve answers, putting his feet on the couch table.
"And while you're at it," Chris drawls, snatching Steve's beer from his hand, "tell Mr. Hollywood his latest movie sucked."
"If I ever get to meet him," Jensen murmurs, which, okay, it's been bugging him somewhat. He'd expected to meet Padalecki when he went to the house today, but he'd been 'far too busy', according to Sandra, and Jensen finds himself in the odd position to work for somebody he's never even met.
Steve shrugs and grabs the TV remote from Chris, ignoring Chris' outraged snort, changing channels from whatever shit Chris was watching to the game. "Dude, if you ever do get to meet Mr. ‘I’m Too Grand To Interview My Own Staff’, you're most likely gonna want to poison him. Or worse," Steve adds, chuckling meanly, "You'll actually like him."
Jensen groans, looking at the glossy pictures of Padalecki with Angelina Jolie, with Mischa Barton, with Whatshername, the blonde chick from Battlestar Galactica, sees the smile and the dimples - which, okay, yeah, are kind of hot - the expensive watch and the well-cut suits. "Yeah, right. And then I'll join Scientology and marry Tom Cruise."
"Stranger things have happened," Steve drawls. "At least you'll be moving out of this rathole."
Jensen looks around his small living room and thinks of the pool house, the large TV and satellite dish, the working fridge and clean bathroom. "I guess it could be worse," he says with a grin and lets himself sink back into the well-worn sofa to watch the Cowboys kick ass.
And the Rest, As they say, is History