Not the fic you're looking for.
Mar. 14th, 2009 09:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
longsufferinglyI spent all week trying not to write this fic and having it go WRITE ME WRITE ME.
So here's this fic.
AS A WARNING and an important one! This is Things Change, set when Alex is sixteen, and from her POV. It's still J2-focused, but it's a lot about her. So you might want to avoid it, is what I'm saying.
2000ish words.
The first time someone her age actually straight up, flat out tells Alex that her parents are attractive, she's sixteen.
It's not like she didn't sort of know it. When she was younger, if either her papa or her dad took her out alone they'd get looks from women, women who clearly wanted to be her new mother or something. And they'd cozy up to her, as if she was the secret door into her parents' hearts, like if they got her everything else would follow.
That was stupid for a lot of reasons, of course, and Alex just kind of assumed, back then, that there weren't a lot of men without wives and the pickings were very slim.
"That hurts," her papa had said, mock wounded, "I'm very desirable."
"Keep telling yourself that," said her dad.
Alex thought they were both stupid.
Last year, her friend Sylvia started reading slash fanfic, and now whenever she comes over she's clearly hoping she'll catch Alex's parents making out or something, but she never said it was because they were hot or anything. Alex figured it was because Sylvia didn't know any other gay guys she could use to make her fic more realistic. Alex keeps telling her they're pretty much like anyone else, but Sylvia thinks that it's really important that Angus and Oliver tell each other that, like, they're snugglewuggums or something. Which papa has maybe said once, on an anniversary or something, but then dad would have smacked him and told him he was a tool, so it's not really romantic. Sylvia isn't great with taking constructive criticism, though.
Still, maybe Alex has been a little naive. Whatever. They're her parents. She knows they love each other and, like, sleep together, presumably because they find each other, well, attractive. Sexy. Something. She tries not to think too much about any part of their sex habits. All she ever really remembers is that when she was little she tried to convince her papa that sleeping with her would be just as fun as sleeping with dad, and now whenever either of them reminds her of that she glares and snarls and sometimes locks herself in her room with embarrassment.
Anyway.
Kimberly and Tanya aren't really her friends. They're in her biology class and they're friends with each other, which is seriously unfair. She really wanted to work with Matt Hollbrook, who's her lab partner and really cute, and who might, maybe, if she's lucky, like her. He's sweet and funny and has glasses thick enough that no one else has noticed his good points. He blushes sometimes when she wears low tank tops--Alex might be a little shy, but she knows she's got pretty awesome boobs and not a bad face, and this whole never-been-kissed thing is mostly her being picky, not undesirable.
And, okay, a little bit of it is her being awkward. When she was starting high school, she bitched a little to dad about it, because papa's great and smart, but shyness has never been a problem for him.
"You can't be worse at high school that I was," dad told her.
"Maybe I can be," she retorted. "I'm really good at being...worse than you."
Dad snorted. "You are not. Besides, kids in my class actually thought I was mute."
Alex snickered. "Mute?"
"I was really shy, Jesus."
"It must be genetic."
Dad made a face, something between amused and pained and fond. He still makes that face, whenever she pretends like they're related. She loves making him make that face. "Yeah," he said, after a pause. "That must be it."
Anyway.
It's Saturday and Tanya and Kimberly are at her house to work on a project when dad comes home from a run.
Okay, so, it's probably Alex's own fault for not warning him they had company, because if he'd known he wouldn't have pulled off his sweaty shirt and come in to the living room in just his shorts.
"Ugh, dad!" Alex says, in the most grossed out voice she can manage. "There are people here! Wear clothes!"
It's hard to tell that dad's flushing, given that he's red and sweaty from his run, but Alex knows.
"Uh," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hi, guys. I'll just--get out of your hair."
He flees into the bathroom, and Alex doesn't feel even a little bad about it until she turns back and sees Kimberly and Tanya gaping.
"What?" she asks.
"Holy fuck." says Tanya, and Alex can tell she feels really cool and edgy for swearing like that. Lame. "Your stepdad is hot."
"My dad," Alex corrects. Her friends all know that Jensen isn't her stepdad, he's her only dad. Matt Hollbrook knows that. Matt Hollbrook asked her the difference between her papa and her dad. She should be working with him.
"I thought your dad was the tall hot one," says Kimberly.
"They're both my dad."
Tanya waves her hand. "But he's not related to you, right? That's gotta help."
"Help what?"
"It's okay to think he's hot, cuz he's not your real dad."
Alex sees red.
The last time someone said Jensen wasn't her real dad, it was Ellie Fisher in sixth grade. Ellie was Alex's first friend once she hit middle school, and she'd really liked her, until Ellie found out that Alex had two daddies and started talking about how unnatural and sinful it was, and Alex punched her in the face and almost broke her nose.
She'd gotten suspended for three days, and papa had patiently explained that just because a girl was a bitch it didn't mean she was allowed to punch her, even if it should have, and dad said there should be a rule against papa being a parent.
So she doesn't punch fucking Tanya Winters.
Instead she takes a deep breath and focuses on her hands.
"If you ever," she says, very carefully, "say that Jensen Ackles isn't my real dad ever again, I am going to hurt you. And trust me, just because my dads are gay doesn't mean I don't know how to kick your fucking ass."
Alex doesn't swear to feel edgy. She swears because she fucking means it.
Tanya blinks.
"It's a compliment," she says haughtily. "My dad is old and gross."
"So is mine," she grits out. Dad's not actually that old; he's thirty-nine, and most of her peers' parents are closer to fifty than forty. But he's dad, and old and gross is pretty much part of the definition of the word dad. She lets out a breath. "Get out. I'll finish."
Tanya looks. "What?"
"I'll do all the work. I don't care. I don't want to see you."
"You're a freak, Padalecki," Kimberly spits as they leave.
Alex has heard that one before.
When dad gets out of the shower, Alex is still sitting on the couch, staring at her hands.
Dad blinks. "Where'd your friends go?"
"They're not my friends," says Alex, not looking up. "They're my partners for biology and I don't even like them."
She feels him sit next to her on the couch. "What happened?"
She groans. "They think you're hot."
"What?"
"They think you're hot, and they think I should think you're hot because I'm not actually related to you, and I wanted punch them."
"I'm glad you didn't."
"I'm not. My knuckles itch."
Dad ruffles her hair. "You did the right thing."
"Kicking them out and telling them I'd end them if they ever said it again?"
"I am hot."
"Go to papa if you want your ego stroked." She pauses. "And if you say papa strokes anything else, I'll end you too."
"You know, it's not like I wish I could talk to you about my sex life. I hate that idea as much as you do."
"There is no way."
"You say that now, wait until you have kids. You'll see."
"Telling a teenager to wait to bitch until the future is like telling a dog not to lick itself."
"Man, with that kind of analogy skill you're going to kick ass on the SATs."
"They took analogies out of the SATs."
"Now that's a shame."
Alex sighs. "Why couldn't it just--be possible for us to be related? I never had a mom. It's not like anyone would know. And I don't want you to be a girl or anything. I just--I wish people wouldn't look at us and think I can only belong to one of you."
Dad puts his arm around her and leans his cheek against the top of her head.
When Alex was ten, a boy told her she was a mistake. She didn't hit him, but only because she was crying too hard.
Dad came to pick her up at school.
"Hey," was what he said, and she hugged him and didn't let go until he'd carried her to the car, and then into the house. She'd never felt so small. He didn't speak again until she was curled up against him in his and papa's bed. "What happened?"
"He said I was a mistake. And I know he didn't know, but I was. I wasn't supposed to happen."
Dad didn't say anything for a long time. "You weren't," he finally agreed. "But you're not a mistake. God, Alex--you're not."
"I know what happened," she said. "Don't lie to me."
"You weren't planned--"
"Papa had a life. He was going to be an actor. He didn't want me."
"You're the most wanted kid I've ever met in my life."
She tried to squirm away, but dad held on. "Don't lie!"
"You are. Your papa didn't have to take you. He wasn't going to. You were some kid he'd never met that he could give up. And then he saw you and he couldn't. Because he already loved you so much."
It helped, a little.
"And then there's me."
"You?" she asked.
"I love you," he said, "and I don't have to, and you and your papa are the best thing that's ever happened to me. So you really can't be a mistake, because if you weren't born, your papa'd be in Hollywood and I never would have met either of you."
Somehow, dad always knows just what to say.
Even when it's nothing.
Alex doesn't know how long they just sit there, leaning against each other silently, dad's wet hair dripping onto the top of her head.
They're still like that when papa comes in.
"Hey, family!" he says, with a bright papa grin. "Aww, is it cuddle time and no one told me?"
"Alex's classmates think I'm hot and it's emotionally damaging her," says dad, without moving.
"You are hot," says papa, leaning down to kiss dad quickly.
"Gross," says Alex, wrinkling her nose automatically.
"Our love is beautiful," says papa
"I swear, I'm not related to you."
"You take after your dad," says papa easily, like it's not a big deal.
Like it's possible.
Alex smiles, just a little. Papa plops down on the sofa on her other side, gets his arm around her with plenty of room to touch dad too. Papa and his freakish arms.
She lets herself sit for a few seconds. Then she says, "This is getting too gay for me."
"Homophobe," says papa.
Alex snorts. "Yeah, that's me. I have homework to do."
"It's Saturday," says papa, as dad curls into him. Sylvia would be taking notes. "Who does homework on a Saturday?"
"People who are going bowling tomorrow."
"Are there gonna be boys there?" asks papa.
Alex does not flush. She worked very hard teaching herself to not flush; she had Natalie say embarrassing things to her while she looked in the mirror and concentrated.
Sometimes she thinks she wants to be an actress.
"I'm sixteen, papa," she points out. "I hang out with boys."
"Is your boyfriend gonna be there?"
Matt's going to be there. She managed to ask him, and he managed to say yes. She was proud of both of them. "I don't have a boyfriend."
"But no one thinks you're mute," dad says innocently.
Alex has to smile. "Don't make out on the couch," she says. "I sit on that couch."
"When you get a boyfriend you aren't ever allowed to make out with him anywhere."
"I'm a teenager, I'm not supposed to listen to you."
"If you don't leave we're going to start making out."
"If I do leave you're going to start making out."
"You're screwed," papa agrees happily.
Alex shakes her head and goes to her room.
She doesn't get it. Her parents are seriously so gross.
So here's this fic.
AS A WARNING and an important one! This is Things Change, set when Alex is sixteen, and from her POV. It's still J2-focused, but it's a lot about her. So you might want to avoid it, is what I'm saying.
2000ish words.
The first time someone her age actually straight up, flat out tells Alex that her parents are attractive, she's sixteen.
It's not like she didn't sort of know it. When she was younger, if either her papa or her dad took her out alone they'd get looks from women, women who clearly wanted to be her new mother or something. And they'd cozy up to her, as if she was the secret door into her parents' hearts, like if they got her everything else would follow.
That was stupid for a lot of reasons, of course, and Alex just kind of assumed, back then, that there weren't a lot of men without wives and the pickings were very slim.
"That hurts," her papa had said, mock wounded, "I'm very desirable."
"Keep telling yourself that," said her dad.
Alex thought they were both stupid.
Last year, her friend Sylvia started reading slash fanfic, and now whenever she comes over she's clearly hoping she'll catch Alex's parents making out or something, but she never said it was because they were hot or anything. Alex figured it was because Sylvia didn't know any other gay guys she could use to make her fic more realistic. Alex keeps telling her they're pretty much like anyone else, but Sylvia thinks that it's really important that Angus and Oliver tell each other that, like, they're snugglewuggums or something. Which papa has maybe said once, on an anniversary or something, but then dad would have smacked him and told him he was a tool, so it's not really romantic. Sylvia isn't great with taking constructive criticism, though.
Still, maybe Alex has been a little naive. Whatever. They're her parents. She knows they love each other and, like, sleep together, presumably because they find each other, well, attractive. Sexy. Something. She tries not to think too much about any part of their sex habits. All she ever really remembers is that when she was little she tried to convince her papa that sleeping with her would be just as fun as sleeping with dad, and now whenever either of them reminds her of that she glares and snarls and sometimes locks herself in her room with embarrassment.
Anyway.
Kimberly and Tanya aren't really her friends. They're in her biology class and they're friends with each other, which is seriously unfair. She really wanted to work with Matt Hollbrook, who's her lab partner and really cute, and who might, maybe, if she's lucky, like her. He's sweet and funny and has glasses thick enough that no one else has noticed his good points. He blushes sometimes when she wears low tank tops--Alex might be a little shy, but she knows she's got pretty awesome boobs and not a bad face, and this whole never-been-kissed thing is mostly her being picky, not undesirable.
And, okay, a little bit of it is her being awkward. When she was starting high school, she bitched a little to dad about it, because papa's great and smart, but shyness has never been a problem for him.
"You can't be worse at high school that I was," dad told her.
"Maybe I can be," she retorted. "I'm really good at being...worse than you."
Dad snorted. "You are not. Besides, kids in my class actually thought I was mute."
Alex snickered. "Mute?"
"I was really shy, Jesus."
"It must be genetic."
Dad made a face, something between amused and pained and fond. He still makes that face, whenever she pretends like they're related. She loves making him make that face. "Yeah," he said, after a pause. "That must be it."
Anyway.
It's Saturday and Tanya and Kimberly are at her house to work on a project when dad comes home from a run.
Okay, so, it's probably Alex's own fault for not warning him they had company, because if he'd known he wouldn't have pulled off his sweaty shirt and come in to the living room in just his shorts.
"Ugh, dad!" Alex says, in the most grossed out voice she can manage. "There are people here! Wear clothes!"
It's hard to tell that dad's flushing, given that he's red and sweaty from his run, but Alex knows.
"Uh," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hi, guys. I'll just--get out of your hair."
He flees into the bathroom, and Alex doesn't feel even a little bad about it until she turns back and sees Kimberly and Tanya gaping.
"What?" she asks.
"Holy fuck." says Tanya, and Alex can tell she feels really cool and edgy for swearing like that. Lame. "Your stepdad is hot."
"My dad," Alex corrects. Her friends all know that Jensen isn't her stepdad, he's her only dad. Matt Hollbrook knows that. Matt Hollbrook asked her the difference between her papa and her dad. She should be working with him.
"I thought your dad was the tall hot one," says Kimberly.
"They're both my dad."
Tanya waves her hand. "But he's not related to you, right? That's gotta help."
"Help what?"
"It's okay to think he's hot, cuz he's not your real dad."
Alex sees red.
The last time someone said Jensen wasn't her real dad, it was Ellie Fisher in sixth grade. Ellie was Alex's first friend once she hit middle school, and she'd really liked her, until Ellie found out that Alex had two daddies and started talking about how unnatural and sinful it was, and Alex punched her in the face and almost broke her nose.
She'd gotten suspended for three days, and papa had patiently explained that just because a girl was a bitch it didn't mean she was allowed to punch her, even if it should have, and dad said there should be a rule against papa being a parent.
So she doesn't punch fucking Tanya Winters.
Instead she takes a deep breath and focuses on her hands.
"If you ever," she says, very carefully, "say that Jensen Ackles isn't my real dad ever again, I am going to hurt you. And trust me, just because my dads are gay doesn't mean I don't know how to kick your fucking ass."
Alex doesn't swear to feel edgy. She swears because she fucking means it.
Tanya blinks.
"It's a compliment," she says haughtily. "My dad is old and gross."
"So is mine," she grits out. Dad's not actually that old; he's thirty-nine, and most of her peers' parents are closer to fifty than forty. But he's dad, and old and gross is pretty much part of the definition of the word dad. She lets out a breath. "Get out. I'll finish."
Tanya looks. "What?"
"I'll do all the work. I don't care. I don't want to see you."
"You're a freak, Padalecki," Kimberly spits as they leave.
Alex has heard that one before.
When dad gets out of the shower, Alex is still sitting on the couch, staring at her hands.
Dad blinks. "Where'd your friends go?"
"They're not my friends," says Alex, not looking up. "They're my partners for biology and I don't even like them."
She feels him sit next to her on the couch. "What happened?"
She groans. "They think you're hot."
"What?"
"They think you're hot, and they think I should think you're hot because I'm not actually related to you, and I wanted punch them."
"I'm glad you didn't."
"I'm not. My knuckles itch."
Dad ruffles her hair. "You did the right thing."
"Kicking them out and telling them I'd end them if they ever said it again?"
"I am hot."
"Go to papa if you want your ego stroked." She pauses. "And if you say papa strokes anything else, I'll end you too."
"You know, it's not like I wish I could talk to you about my sex life. I hate that idea as much as you do."
"There is no way."
"You say that now, wait until you have kids. You'll see."
"Telling a teenager to wait to bitch until the future is like telling a dog not to lick itself."
"Man, with that kind of analogy skill you're going to kick ass on the SATs."
"They took analogies out of the SATs."
"Now that's a shame."
Alex sighs. "Why couldn't it just--be possible for us to be related? I never had a mom. It's not like anyone would know. And I don't want you to be a girl or anything. I just--I wish people wouldn't look at us and think I can only belong to one of you."
Dad puts his arm around her and leans his cheek against the top of her head.
When Alex was ten, a boy told her she was a mistake. She didn't hit him, but only because she was crying too hard.
Dad came to pick her up at school.
"Hey," was what he said, and she hugged him and didn't let go until he'd carried her to the car, and then into the house. She'd never felt so small. He didn't speak again until she was curled up against him in his and papa's bed. "What happened?"
"He said I was a mistake. And I know he didn't know, but I was. I wasn't supposed to happen."
Dad didn't say anything for a long time. "You weren't," he finally agreed. "But you're not a mistake. God, Alex--you're not."
"I know what happened," she said. "Don't lie to me."
"You weren't planned--"
"Papa had a life. He was going to be an actor. He didn't want me."
"You're the most wanted kid I've ever met in my life."
She tried to squirm away, but dad held on. "Don't lie!"
"You are. Your papa didn't have to take you. He wasn't going to. You were some kid he'd never met that he could give up. And then he saw you and he couldn't. Because he already loved you so much."
It helped, a little.
"And then there's me."
"You?" she asked.
"I love you," he said, "and I don't have to, and you and your papa are the best thing that's ever happened to me. So you really can't be a mistake, because if you weren't born, your papa'd be in Hollywood and I never would have met either of you."
Somehow, dad always knows just what to say.
Even when it's nothing.
Alex doesn't know how long they just sit there, leaning against each other silently, dad's wet hair dripping onto the top of her head.
They're still like that when papa comes in.
"Hey, family!" he says, with a bright papa grin. "Aww, is it cuddle time and no one told me?"
"Alex's classmates think I'm hot and it's emotionally damaging her," says dad, without moving.
"You are hot," says papa, leaning down to kiss dad quickly.
"Gross," says Alex, wrinkling her nose automatically.
"Our love is beautiful," says papa
"I swear, I'm not related to you."
"You take after your dad," says papa easily, like it's not a big deal.
Like it's possible.
Alex smiles, just a little. Papa plops down on the sofa on her other side, gets his arm around her with plenty of room to touch dad too. Papa and his freakish arms.
She lets herself sit for a few seconds. Then she says, "This is getting too gay for me."
"Homophobe," says papa.
Alex snorts. "Yeah, that's me. I have homework to do."
"It's Saturday," says papa, as dad curls into him. Sylvia would be taking notes. "Who does homework on a Saturday?"
"People who are going bowling tomorrow."
"Are there gonna be boys there?" asks papa.
Alex does not flush. She worked very hard teaching herself to not flush; she had Natalie say embarrassing things to her while she looked in the mirror and concentrated.
Sometimes she thinks she wants to be an actress.
"I'm sixteen, papa," she points out. "I hang out with boys."
"Is your boyfriend gonna be there?"
Matt's going to be there. She managed to ask him, and he managed to say yes. She was proud of both of them. "I don't have a boyfriend."
"But no one thinks you're mute," dad says innocently.
Alex has to smile. "Don't make out on the couch," she says. "I sit on that couch."
"When you get a boyfriend you aren't ever allowed to make out with him anywhere."
"I'm a teenager, I'm not supposed to listen to you."
"If you don't leave we're going to start making out."
"If I do leave you're going to start making out."
"You're screwed," papa agrees happily.
Alex shakes her head and goes to her room.
She doesn't get it. Her parents are seriously so gross.
