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Jul. 13th, 2006 03:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
JDM is GAY
[rpf, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, g, 698 words]
prompt #16 on the
wtf27 table: You see, I woke up gay. warning for some truly unfortunate stereotyping of gay men. I blame Will and Grace.
Jeff has heard the rumors a million times but he's never paid much attention to them. He's been in the business long enough to know that the entertainment industry runs on bullshit and gossip - without them, the whole thing would dry up and he'd have to go be a goddamn potato farmer in Idaho or something - but that doesn't mean he has to buy into any of the crap. Sure, he'll smile and nod while some loud-mouthed moron blabs about the latest piece of gossip Jeff couldn't care less about, but he never actually gives a shit. He never really believes that So-and-so used to be a man or that You-Know-Who is a total closet case. And he sure as hell doesn't believe in the one that's been buzzing in his ears nonstop since he got offered the WB gig.
Then on the morning of his first day on set, he wakes up, takes a look around at his bedroom, and thinks, 'I really should look into getting a different shade of yellow for my window treatments. Maybe something in daffodil.'
He blinks at that, wondering where in the hell it came from, then shakes his head and gets out of the bed.
In the shower it occurs to him that the soap he's been washing with dries out his skin and the 2-in-1 he's been using as shampoo is the reason his hair's been looking dull and flat. At breakfast, instead of downing his usual coffee with a double-shot of coffee, he stares in his fridge for five minutes with a frown on his face before deciding to stop at the cafe down the street for a latte and a fruit cup.
Halfway through the fruit cup, he frowns and stares at his forkful of mango and granola. "What the fuck am I eating?" he growls before tossing it into the nearest trashcan. The spoon clatters noisily to the ground next to the can and Jeff grabs a napkin before picking it up and throwing it away.
The ride to the studio is fairly uneventful and easy. Light traffic, only a few red lights, and when Jeff flips through the stations, he hits one that's having some kind of Cher power hour. He nods his head and taps his fingers to the beat, and when he stops to show his pass to the guard, he grins and points and sings, "Do you believe in the power of the love?"
The guard - his nametag says 'Ronnie', and he's a darling older man with a slight French accent that sounds absolutely delightful - just gives Jeff an odd look before sighing, shaking his head, and waving him through. Jeff thinks he hears Ronnie say, "There goes another one," but before he can question it, "Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves" blares out of his speakers and he forgets about it.
The sun is out and shining brightly as Jeff parks his car and gets out. There's a warm breeze, the scent of wildflowers strong on it, and a chorus of birds sing merrily as he makes his way to the set. Jeff looks around, just grinning at how beautiful the world seems to be today, and someone bumps into him from behind.
"Oh, hey, sorry," the guy says, a pretty thing with wide green eyes. Jared, Jeff thinks, then shakes his head. No, Jensen.
"Don't worry about it," Jeff says, smiling at the guy, who blinks and smiles backs.
"Jeff, right?" Jensen - Jeff is positive it's Jensen - says.
"Please, call me Jeffrey." He's not sure why he says that, but it just feels right, like a whole new person - a happier, freer, more cheerful person - had woken up inside of him when he'd gotten out of bed that morning.
Jensen eyes him, looks him over twice, then nods to himself as his smile spreads wider over his face. There's a connection Jeffrey can feel, something that he's never felt in all his years working as an actor. Something...sparkly and shiny and new. Jensen nods again, grabs a hold of his hand, gives it a squeeze, and says, with a wink, "Welcome to the family."
thank you for reading!
[rpf, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, g, 698 words]
prompt #16 on the
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
Jeff has heard the rumors a million times but he's never paid much attention to them. He's been in the business long enough to know that the entertainment industry runs on bullshit and gossip - without them, the whole thing would dry up and he'd have to go be a goddamn potato farmer in Idaho or something - but that doesn't mean he has to buy into any of the crap. Sure, he'll smile and nod while some loud-mouthed moron blabs about the latest piece of gossip Jeff couldn't care less about, but he never actually gives a shit. He never really believes that So-and-so used to be a man or that You-Know-Who is a total closet case. And he sure as hell doesn't believe in the one that's been buzzing in his ears nonstop since he got offered the WB gig.
Then on the morning of his first day on set, he wakes up, takes a look around at his bedroom, and thinks, 'I really should look into getting a different shade of yellow for my window treatments. Maybe something in daffodil.'
He blinks at that, wondering where in the hell it came from, then shakes his head and gets out of the bed.
In the shower it occurs to him that the soap he's been washing with dries out his skin and the 2-in-1 he's been using as shampoo is the reason his hair's been looking dull and flat. At breakfast, instead of downing his usual coffee with a double-shot of coffee, he stares in his fridge for five minutes with a frown on his face before deciding to stop at the cafe down the street for a latte and a fruit cup.
Halfway through the fruit cup, he frowns and stares at his forkful of mango and granola. "What the fuck am I eating?" he growls before tossing it into the nearest trashcan. The spoon clatters noisily to the ground next to the can and Jeff grabs a napkin before picking it up and throwing it away.
The ride to the studio is fairly uneventful and easy. Light traffic, only a few red lights, and when Jeff flips through the stations, he hits one that's having some kind of Cher power hour. He nods his head and taps his fingers to the beat, and when he stops to show his pass to the guard, he grins and points and sings, "Do you believe in the power of the love?"
The guard - his nametag says 'Ronnie', and he's a darling older man with a slight French accent that sounds absolutely delightful - just gives Jeff an odd look before sighing, shaking his head, and waving him through. Jeff thinks he hears Ronnie say, "There goes another one," but before he can question it, "Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves" blares out of his speakers and he forgets about it.
The sun is out and shining brightly as Jeff parks his car and gets out. There's a warm breeze, the scent of wildflowers strong on it, and a chorus of birds sing merrily as he makes his way to the set. Jeff looks around, just grinning at how beautiful the world seems to be today, and someone bumps into him from behind.
"Oh, hey, sorry," the guy says, a pretty thing with wide green eyes. Jared, Jeff thinks, then shakes his head. No, Jensen.
"Don't worry about it," Jeff says, smiling at the guy, who blinks and smiles backs.
"Jeff, right?" Jensen - Jeff is positive it's Jensen - says.
"Please, call me Jeffrey." He's not sure why he says that, but it just feels right, like a whole new person - a happier, freer, more cheerful person - had woken up inside of him when he'd gotten out of bed that morning.
Jensen eyes him, looks him over twice, then nods to himself as his smile spreads wider over his face. There's a connection Jeffrey can feel, something that he's never felt in all his years working as an actor. Something...sparkly and shiny and new. Jensen nods again, grabs a hold of his hand, gives it a squeeze, and says, with a wink, "Welcome to the family."

thank you for reading!