Differentials

by kerfuffling

Summary:

Jared and Jensen have been best friends since they were three, and Jared honestly didn’t mean to fuck that all up.

The clatter-clang of closing lockers makes Jared want to wince as he makes his way through the throng of students scrambling towards their sixth period classes. Thrusting his hands deeper into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, he ducks around three tittering freshman girls and into the cafeteria. The morning has felt like it has spanned an eternity, and Jared was thisclose to going to the nurse’s office and begging his mom to let him come home sick but the inevitable guilt trip she would’ve put on him isn’t worth the effort. He got maybe three hours of sleep last night, and he knows that Gen is going to rag on him until the bell rings.

Slouching into the lunch line, Jared stares at the whiteboard hanging on the cinderblock wall disinterestedly for almost a full minute before comprehending the daily special. He picks up a blue plastic tray and sets it down in front of him on the metal bars stationed in front of the plastic guarding the food, barely managing not to run into Katie Cassidy as she animatedly talks with one of the senior football players about pep rallies or win records or something else that Jared couldn’t care less about.

By the time Jared leaves the line, he’s accumulated a lunch he’s not entirely sure he remembers choosing. There’s a cup of tomato soup that’s disappointedly been made with water and not milk and a toasted cheese sandwich sticking greasily to a square of wax paper, along with a sadly bruised apple and a flat chocolate chip cookie. Despite the unappetizing selection in front of him, his stomach rumbles, and he shuffles to his customary table. Gen is already there, ignoring her paper boat full of french fries for the apparently exhilarating task of coloring her fingernails with a permanent marker.

Tossing his lunch onto the table, Jared flops into a plastic chair gracelessly. “Hey,” he grunts as Gen looks up and gives him an aggrieved look.

“You picked the wrong food,” she says in lieu of a greeting, dropping her attention back to her hands.

“What do you mean?” he asks, afraid that she’s going to tell him that the lunch ladies are serving contaminated food or something equally gross.

“Those aren’t brains,” she says flatly.

“...What?” Jared says.

“I thought all you zombies ate were brains,” Gen says, looking at him.

“Fuck off,” Jared mutters, pulling his sandwich free of the wax paper and taking a generous bite.

“Seriously, it looks like someone gave you two black eyes. You either need to invest in some sleeping pills or some heavy-duty cover-up.”

“I don’t need sleeping pills,” returns Jared dully, wiping his buttery fingers on the knees of his jeans.

“You need something,” Gen says. “Jared, I’m not joking. When’s the last night you slept more than a couple of hours? You’re worrying me here.”


“I’m fine. Just dealing with some insomnia. It’ll be okay.”

“Cut the bullshit. You’re so far from being all right. Maybe you should stop being such a dipshit and actually fucking talk to him.”

“Genevieve,” Jared says levelly, looking her in the eyes. “Drop it. I’m fine. I’m dealing with things. I know you don’t believe me, but. I just-- I need some time.”

Gen stares at him intensely for a few seconds before dropping her gaze and running one of her fries through a puddle of ketchup. She chews and swallows before opening her mouth again, and Jared’s too uncomfortable to take his attention from his lunch to her. If she keeps pushing him, it’s very possible that he might take off for the library for the remainder of the period.

“It’s just,” she starts and then blows her bangs out of her face frustratedly, “you’re not the same Jared I’ve known since fifth grade, and I miss you, okay? I need for you to get better so I can stop giving myself ulcers. It’s really fucking upsetting to be around you anymore.”

“I’m sorry my presence is ruining your life,” Jared says snidely, making a move to stand up.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Gen snaps. “Sit down and finish your lunch and I won’t talk about it anymore. I promise. But I’m here if you need me.”

“Okay,” Jared says, pulling himself close to the table again and pushing his spoon through the congealed soup on his tray. She squeezes his wrist with her tiny hand and then picks up her marker to resume her manicure.

“Hope you didn’t study too hard for Gonzalez’s unit test,” she says. “It’s a freaking joke.” Jared smiles weakly, doesn’t answer, and lets her prattle on until the bell rings to signal the start of seventh period.

**

Chucking his backpack under his chair, Jared very deliberately takes his seat in ninth-period chemistry and doesn’t look up from the desktop. He can hear his classmates chattering, and he hunches further down, hoping that no one is paying attention to him. Not for the first time in the past month, he wishes that Gen was in this class, or Gabe.

Mr. Beaver stumps through the door and sets his battered leather satchel on one of the lab tables at the front of the classroom. He’s joking dryly with Aldis Hodge over something and doesn’t immediately start class after the bell rings, finishing up his conversation as the room hums with the sound of several different voices. Jared gives an involuntary shudder as the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, and he wonders if someone’s staring at him or if he’s just being paranoid. Either way, he shifts uncomfortably in his chair and shoves his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie.

“Settle down everyone,” Mr. Beaver says, taking his place behind his desk, looking around the room placidly. The ambient noise immediately drops off, and Mr. Beaver pulls a stack of papers from his bag, setting them in front of him. He then starts unearthing plastic containers full of brightly colored balls and plastic rods. Jared groans inwardly, because it’s a lab day and he completely forgot. Fucking great.

“You know the drill,” Mr. Beaver says. “Grab a partner, get a lab packet, and start working. This lab is due before the bell rings. No exceptions.” There’s the immediate sound of thirty students shifting their seats out to find their friends and get the assignment. Jared sighs and looks aimlessly around the room at everyone else pairing up. He’s beginning to wonder if he’s going to be the loser who works alone when someone taps him on the back of his shoulder. Lauren Cohan looks at him expectantly, tilting her head so her hair falls in uneven waves over her shoulders.

“You got a partner?” she asks.

“Nah,” Jared says, inwardly hoping for a fire drill or freak hurricane to get them out of class. “Wanna work together?”

“It’s why I asked,” she says succinctly before moving to the front of the room to get the necessary materials. It’s not that Lauren’s a terrible person or mean or anything like that. She’s just a perfectionist and doesn’t tolerate stupidity, and Jared’s not sure he has the brain power to keep from pissing her off today. Maybe if he’s lucky, she’ll do the majority of the lab by herself with little input from him. He stands up to move his desk around so they can work face-to-face when someone runs into him hard from the side.

“Shit,” Jared hisses as his hip makes contact with the edge of the lab table.

“Watch out, asshole!” says Mike Rosenbaum, laughing meanly as Jared rubs his side to try and alleviate some of the pain. Rosenbaum’s partner, Jensen, looks on without saying anything, staring at the blackboard at the front of the class, and it’s almost as if he’s pretending Jared doesn’t exist. A pang of hurt runs through Jared’s chest, and it doesn’t have anything to do with how his hip is throbbing.

“Fuck off, dick,” Jared says lowly, mindful of keeping Mr. Beaver from hearing and coming over to issue detentions.

“You’re such a pussy,” Rosenbaum says, running into Jared again as he moves back the other way to get his book bag. “What, are you gonna get your drama friends to jump me after school?”

Jared clenches his hands but is saved from having to come up with something to say when Lauren dumps a handful of their modeling molecules onto the desk. “Michael,” she says, not looking up, “you’re in my way. Please move.”

Rosenbaum snorts. “You and Jared have a good day,” he tells Lauren, faux-sweetly. “You guys are a match made in heaven.”

Lauren blinks at him. “Your insults leave much to be desired,” she says, her accent making her seem incredibly condescending. “I’m sure you’re busy enough making sure Jensen fails today’s assignment, though, so I’m perfectly okay if you wish to leave.”

Rosenbaum makes a rude gesture towards her but moves away to begin putting together molecular models with Jensen. Jared picks up one of the balls and a connector stick and half-heartedly begins to help Lauren finish the lab to her specifications.

Jensen still hasn’t acknowledged that Jared exists.

*

It’s really hard to pretend you care about ye olde British literature, even if you have an essay test coming up in less than a week. Jared is sitting on his bed, haphazardly under his covers, trying in vain to get through twenty chapters of Jane Eyre before Monday so he can at least pepper his bullshit with actual facts from the book. He was supposed to have been keeping up with the assigned reading, but honestly, with everything else that’s been going on, he let it go by the wayside.

The house is quiet, and Jared sighs as he stares at the words swimming in front of his face. He’s maybe twenty pages further than he’d been forty-five minutes ago, and he’s not quite sure he even knows what he’s just read. Blinking tiredly, he tries to motivate himself to keep going, but it’s like trying to walk uphill in a snowstorm while wearing sandals. He dog-ears the page he’s on, throws the book onto the floor, and flops against his headboard, closing his eyes briefly. It’s only eight-thirty on a Friday night, but he literally has nothing to do, and he’s exhausted enough that it might be possible to actually fall asleep tonight, recent bouts of insomnia notwithstanding.

The obnoxiously loud chime of the doorbell startles Jared, and he sits up warily. His dad is working late tonight, and he’s not quite sure where his mother and sister have gone. He considers ignoring it, but the bell rings again, and then someone pounds on the door. Heaving another sigh, Jared untangles himself from the covers, tumbles out of bed, and drags himself down to the front hall. He really hopes that they’re not Jehovah’s Witnesses going around the neighborhood with free bibles, because he’s not sure he has the common courtesy not to shut the door in their faces.

He undoes the deadbolt and pulls the door open, looking outside to the front walk. Someone is in the process of going back to the driveway, and the figure turns at the noise. Jared doesn’t swear, but it’s a close thing.

“Hey,” Jared says quietly as Jensen closes his eyes in apparent exasperation.

“Hi,” Jensen replies, emotionlessly. “Um, I’m supposed to be picking up Mac. Is she here?”

“No,” Jared says. He’d elaborate, but he hadn’t even known that Megan was hanging out with Jensen’s sister today.

“Oh.”

“They’ll probably be back soon,” Jared says, even though that’s just a guess. He assumes that they’re with his mother.

“Okay,” Jensen says. “I guess I’ll go wait in the car.”

“You don’t have to,” says Jared, almost on an impulse. He doesn’t want Jensen in the house, and Jensen absolutely looks like he’d rather stand outside in a hurricane instead of stepping inside.

“That’s fine,” Jensen says stiffly. “Just send her out when she gets here.”

A flash of anger, sudden and hot, flares in Jared’s stomach. “So, what?” he says, fury infusing actual emotion in his voice for the first time all night. “You hate me that much that you can’t even come inside?”

“Oh, fuck you, Jared,” says Jensen wearily. “It’s not like that.”

“It sure seems like that from here,” Jared says snidely.

“No, you know what?” Jensen takes a menacing step forwards but Jared stands his ground in the doorway. “You’re the one who started this, Jared. You’re the one who put this on me.”

“You do not get to blame me for this,” Jared snaps. “I’m not the one who walked out and stopped talking. I’m not the one who’s been avoiding me for the last month.”

“Well, what did you expect, Jared? Seriously!” Jensen is very close to yelling, standing ten feet from Jared’s front door, arms thrown wide. “You threw that shit on me with no warning. How was I supposed to react?”

“You were supposed to not be an asshole!” Jared shouts. “I didn’t tell you to get you to do anything.”

“No, you did it because you’re a selfish dick!” Jared can only see half of Jensen’s face, but he seems absolutely furious. “You should’ve just kept it to yourself, Jared! I didn’t want to fucking know!”

“Oh, grow up, Jensen,” Jared says, but he’s breathing heavily and he can feel tears stinging behind his eyes. “If you’re going to let this ruin the last fourteen years, then you can just go fuck yourself.”

Jensen stands there silently for a couple of beats. “Well, I guess that’s how it’s gonna be, Jared. It’s just--I can’t.”

“Fine,” Jared snarls, stepping back and slamming the door. Resisting the urge to go to the window and see what Jensen’s doing, he takes the stairs two at a time and flings himself onto the floor of his bedroom, sitting up against his mattress. He stares at the wall blankly for several minutes before he gets up the energy to stand and turn his light off before crawling into bed. It’s four in the morning before he falls asleep.

**

When Jared was three, his mother met a couple down the street from them, and it wasn’t long before she’d arranged for Jared to have a play-date with their little boy. Although it’s practically impossible, Jared swears that he can still remember meeting Jensen for the first time when his mother sat him down in the park before retreating to a bench to talk with Mrs. Ackles. Whatever the case, Jared’s mom still tells the story fondly, even though it isn’t much of a story to hear.

Jared had a G.I. Joe and Jensen had a small Tonka truck, and at first, they just sort of sat a little way away from each other, playing in the sandbox. But then Jensen ran his truck over a little hill that was near Jared and Jared used his G.I. Joe as a mutant giant, chasing Jensen’s toy clumsily through the sand. Instead of being upset, Jensen made a little war cry, and they began to play nonsensically, the lull of their mothers’ conversation interrupted intermittently by their three-year-old approximations of gunfire and explosions.

Due to the proximity of their houses, Jared spent almost as much time over at Jensen’s as he did at his own home. Jensen had a pool, and movie channels on his television, and during the summer, they would always come up with schemes to stretch their sleepovers into four-day-long events, baking in the sun and practicing their cannonballs off of the low diving board that Jensen’s parents had installed. Although their older brothers never really hit it off, Megan and Mac found a certain camaraderie over Barbie dolls and play-doh, so it soon became commonplace for Jared to take his sister’s hand and walk her down the street past the Johnsons’ huge, barking dalmatians to Jensen’s house.

Eventually, Jensen’s family moved across town into a house that his father had designed, but even though it was harder to get together, Jared still considered Jensen to be the friend he was closest to. They began to hang with different people once they hit middle school--Jensen was friends with his teammates from the baseball team, and Jared usually hanged around people who were in drama club with him, but no matter what, they still sat together at lunch and partnered with each other on field trips. It was kind of weird, maybe--their shared past overcame a lot of obstacles that might have broken them apart otherwise.

It was the same though high school. Jared was the first one to know when Jensen kissed Danneel Harris in the dugout after practice, and Jensen was the only one Jared could think to call when he was cast as the lead in the school’s fall production, even though he was only a sophomore. They got drunk for the first time together on a bottle of cheap tequila that Jensen had pilfered from his brother’s dorm room. It had come to the point where Jared was sure that they’d head off to college together.

Jared honestly hadn’t meant to fuck all that up.

**

Sitting against a row of lockers, Jared pages through a worn copy of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, trying to memorize his lines with the least amount of effort possible. Ms. Gamble, the drama director, decided in September to raise the bar on previous fall productions and finally introduced Shakespeare into the drama club’s repertoire. If truth be told, Jared had been a little annoyed that it took about five separate readings to finally muddle throw what the play meant, but he’s generally excited about performing it the last week of classes before winter break.

“How fare ye, Puck?” someone calls from down the hallway, startling Jared from his position.

“Hey, Misha,” he says, as Misha throws himself next to Jared carelessly, sitting maybe a little too close for comfort. Misha moved to their school last year, and is generally considered to be a little crazy. Nevertheless, Jared likes him well enough, especially when he turns on the dry humor.

“Our fair teacher implored me to bequeath to you the knowledge that we shall be rehearsing your scene shortly.” Misha knocks his foot into Jared’s leg and looks at him expectantly

“Oh?” says Jared, distractedly paging through his script to the beginning of the scene so he can go over his lines for one last time before going inside.

“Verily,” says Misha, grinning toothily.

“You know,” Jared says, “we’re not rehearsing yet. You don’t have to talk like that.” Even as he’s saying it, he knows it’s a lost cause. Misha acts how Misha wants to act, consequences be damned.

“My good sir,” Misha says, mock-affronted. “How can you possibly expect me to know the depths of Bottom’s soul if I do not give my very best effort to understanding everything about him?”

“At least learn your Shakespearean better,” Jared says. “They don’t really talk like that.”

“Lies!” Misha shouts. “Vicious untruths! You cur!” Jared laughs shortly and moves to stand up, shaking his leg to try and make his foot wake up again.

“You said she’s almost ready for us, yeah?” he says. “We can go in now.”

“That would be most wise, my dear Puck,” says Misha, all ire instantly gone. He extends a hand upwards, and Jared shakes his head bemusedly as he pulls Misha to his feet. All of a sudden, braying laughter fills the hallway.

“Jesus, Collins,” says Chris, pushing his locker closed and hoisting his backpack onto one shoulder. “No one wants to watch your big gay love affair with Padalecki.”

“Just because you’re in the closet doesn’t mean we all should be,” says Misha sweetly, threading an arm through Jared’s and immediately abandoning his Shakespearean for actual modern-day English. Jared tries to subtly shake him off, but Misha’s grip is tight, and Jared can feel his cheeks flush a dull red.

Chris’s eyes narrow dangerously. “You better not be saying what I fuckin’ think you’re saying.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Misha says. “I completely understand that you’re not as comfortable with your sexuality as I am. It’s perfectly okay.”

“Misha,” Jared hisses, “stop it.”

“You’d better listen to your boyfriend,” Chris says dangerously, stepping forward. “Your hippie yoga shit isn’t going to help you win any fights, Collins.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” says Misha. “Even though I think our friend Mr. Kane doesn’t have an original thought in that empty head of his, I do think I am afraid of his brute strength! You will protect me, won’t you?”

“Fuckin’ take that back,” Chris snarls, dropping his bag and curling his hand into a fist. Jared’s 90% sure that Chris is just putting on a show and isn’t really stupid enough to start something like this on school property, but that extra 10% makes him want to turn tail and run into the auditorium. Chris isn’t a tall guy, but he’s pretty athletic and plenty strong enough to pound Jared’s face in.

“He didn’t mean it,” Jared placates. “C’mon, Chris, just calm down. He’s just tryin’ to make you mad.”

“Honey,” Misha gasps. “You won’t stand up for me? I thought our love transcended all obstacles!”

“Misha, shut up!” Jared says under his breath.

Chris smirks and steps back again, and Jared is relieved that his instincts weren’t wrong. “That’s right, Padalecki,” he says, picking up his bag.

Just then, Ms. Gamble pokes her head out of the door. “Misha? Jared?” she says. “We’re ready for you now.”

“Coming!” Misha says merrily. She disappears back into the dark of the room, and Misha wraps his arms around Jared’s neck and kisses his jaw noisily. Jared sputters but Misha doesn’t seem to notice, giving Chris a narrow look before dislodging himself.

“I’ll see you inside, sweetheart,” he chirps, and then darts into the auditorium, leaving Jared alone with Chris in the hallway.

“Fuckin’ disgusting,” Chris mutters, a sneer on his face. Jared would tell him that he and Misha aren’t like that at all, but it would be a waste of breath. Misha could bring his space-case girlfriend in to class and make out with her on top of the teacher’s desk and Chris would still tell everyone about how he and Jared were big gay lovers. Whatever.

“Screw you, Kane,” Jared says, picking up his script and ducking into the doorway to take his place on stage.

**

Jared is trying to conjugate a sheet full of verbs for Spanish class at lunch the next day when someone drops a bag of chips on his book and sits down next to him.

“Long time no see, Danny,” says Gen, looking up from her sketchbook.

“Felt like a change today,” says Danneel, opening her salad container and pouring an unearthly amount of ranch dressing on top of the lettuce. “Mike and Tom were being really annoying this morning, and I really don’t want to have to deal with them any more than I have to.”

“Hey, thanks,” Jared says, holding up the chips before opening them. Danneel is a bit of an enigma in their school--she’s one of the varsity cheerleaders, but she still manages to have at least one friend in every clique, and she’s wickedly smart to boot.

“Poder is an irregular verb, by the way,” she says, pointing at his homework.

“Oh, right,” Jared says, erasing part of his worksheet and putting in the correct answer.

“So, Jared,” Danneel says. “Chris told me this morning that you’re going out with Misha Collins. True? Not true? I’m curious.”

Jared chokes on the mouthful of water he’s just drunk. “Gross,” Gen says, handing over a handful of napkins so Jared can wipe up the water he’s accidentally sprayed on the table.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve built up to that, huh?” says Danneel, smiling slightly.

“I’m not,” Jared says hastily. “Definitely not going out with Misha. He has a girlfriend.”

“I thought so,” says Danneel. “But you try telling anyone that Chris is wrong when he’s got it in his head to be an asshole.”

“He’s always an asshole,” Genevieve says, not bothering to look up from her drawing.

Danneel inclines her head towards Gen before shrugging. “I’ll give you that.”

“Is he telling everyone?” Jared demands, crumpling the wet napkins in his hand.

“Pretty much. He told me that he caught you two making out in the drama hallway after school yesterday.”

Jared’s mouth drops open. “That’s--that’s so far from being anywhere close to the truth!”

“I figured,” Danneel says. “I wanted to put it straight, but I thought maybe I should get the story from you first. Not that anyone’ll believe me.”

“Dammit,” Jared mutters, because he really doesn’t want this kind of attention.

“He’s just mad because you ruined the curve on that last AP History test,” Danneel says. “He failed it.”

“Nothing happened!” Jared says hotly. “Misha was just egging him on because he was being a dick.”

Danneel smiles humorlessly. “It’ll blow over, Jared. Don’t worry about it.”

“I hate my life,” Jared says to his Spanish book. “Julie McNiven’s going to be glaring at me all through English. She thinks Misha’s her soulmate.”

“Oh, I forgot about that,” Danneel laughs. “But she’s harmless, so I think you’ll be okay.”

“Says you,” Jared mutters.

“You really are the most dramatic person I know,” Gen says. “Man up and stop being such a baby.”

“Thanks for your support, Gen.”

“You know I love you best, honey,” she quips, dead-pan.

**

True to the cliche, Chris’s rumor spreads like wildfire among the popular crowd, which unfortunately mostly includes catty bitches and aggressive assholes. Every time he passed a pack of them in the hall, he’d heard some sort of tittered whispering, and Rosenbaum had even had the nerve to shove him into a locker before eighth period. Massaging his sore shoulder, Jared hopes that Mike comes up with a different form of bullying, because he’s really fucking sick of all the bruises. Jared is very close to snapping, and he’s not entirely sure that he’ll be able to come away from Mike without hitting back next time, and since he only ever sees Mike in school, this could potentially be a very big problem.

Jared had hoped that the rain would abet before his literary magazine meeting ended, but it’s coming down harder than before, slicking the pavement and forming unavoidable puddles at random intervals in the parking lot. Staring out of the school doors forlornly, Jared tries to think of where he last saw his umbrella but he comes up blank. He steels himself and pushes the door open, glad that mostly everyone else has apparently gone directly home. The wind attempts to push him back inside, pelleting his face with stinging droplets of water.

Jared jogs to his car, zig-zagging around puddles when he can, but by the time he’s blindly pushing the key inside of the lock, his pants are soaked up to the knee and his feet are squishing uncomfortably in his shoes. He finally manages to wrench open the door to his truck, and he clambers inside as quickly as possible, making to throw his sodden backpack on the passenger seat. Except someone’s already sitting there.

“Holy shit!” Jared shouts, throwing one arm out for protection, his heart doing its best to beat itself up through his throat.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me!” says Creepy Car Invader, throwing his hands out in a placating gesture, and Jared knows that voice. Slowly, hesitantly, he lowers his hand and takes in his erstwhile stowaway.

“Jensen, what the fuck are you doing in my car?” Jared demands. “How did you get in here?”

“Thanks for not stabbing my eyes out with your keys,” Jensen says drily.

“It would’ve served you right!” Jared snaps. “What are you doing in my car?”

Jensen shifts in his seat so that he’s angled towards Jared, and Jared immediately moves further back against the driver’s side door so he’s as far from Jensen as physically possible without getting outside. Jensen’s hair is damp, not wet, so he’s probably been in Jared’s car for a while, considering that Jensen’s Honda is nowhere around, and even though Jensen’s the one who’s somewhere he’s not supposed to be, he’s still giving Jared a thoroughly pissed off glare.

“You left your spare set of keys at my house,” he says in lieu of any explanation as to why he’s suddenly decided to be a super-stalker.

“And you never gave them back?” asks Jared incredulously. “I haven’t been to your house in over a month. Jesus, Jensen!” God, Jared had been wondering where those had gotten to.

Jensen narrows his eyes. “It’s not my job to bring your shit back to you if you can’t even keep track of it.”

“Is that why you decided to break into my car? What the fuck, Jensen?”

“No,” Jensen says steadily, not missing a beat. “I want to talk to you.”

“Well, go ahead! Seeing as you already decided to be massively creepy about it.”

Jensen ignores the insult and keeps looking at Jared in a way that makes Jared want to punch things. Preferably Jensen-shaped things.

“Are you really dating Misha Collins?” Jensen asks, and there’s an underlying tension to his voice that Jared places as anger.

Jared stares at Jensen for at least ten seconds, his mouth hanging open. “Oh, my God. Was this really so important that you had to sit in my car and wait for me? What is wrong with you?”

“Are you?” Jensen asks again, his voice hard.

“Why do you care?” Jared says. “You’re not my friend anymore, remember? You gave up your right to ask me anything and expect me to answer.”

“So you are dating him,” Jensen says.

“So what if I am?” Jared yells. “Why does it matter?”

“Just wondering,” Jensen says tightly.

“No, you know what? You better tell me what’s going on here! You don’t break into people’s cars if you’re curious. What the hell?”

But Jensen’s already groping for the door handle to let himself out, an ugly expression on his face. “Have fun sucking cock, Jared,” he says nastily.

“Go fuck yourself,” Jared shouts, and Jensen slams the door. Jared doesn’t think he’s ever hated anyone as much as he hates Jensen right now, and his stomach twists with anger and hurt and humiliation. It takes him at least twenty minutes to calm down enough to feel safe driving home.

**

If there is one thing that Jared’s thankful for it’s the fact that he’s no longer fourteen. Fourteen is probably the shittiest age anyone could be, and Jared can’t think of anything that made the entire year worthwhile. He was still short, shorter than almost every other boy in his grade, and even though his mother kept assuring him that he’d grow, he felt small and ugly and inadequate. Not only that, but everyone around him was talking about dating and kissing and having sex, and Jared stayed up at night, confused and upset thinking about it.

See, the thing is, Jared wasn’t entirely what kind of relationship he even wanted to have with a girl. He had friends who were girls, yes, and he liked them just as much as he liked any of his guy friends. As for girlfriends--well, Jared had no idea. But when Gabe started talking about his girlfriend and how they spent hours french-kissing, Jared felt like shuddering because Gabe’s girlfriend was small and mousy and Jared didn’t think her tongue would feel good in anyone’s mouth. And sometimes when he was around Tom, the conversation would turn towards boobs, and that was frustrating, because what did Jared know about boobs? They were round and girls had them, and Tom always talked about how Kristen Bell had let him feel her’s after the homecoming football game, and it sounded completely repulsive.

Jared had worried for a long time about how fucked up he was. He couldn’t talk to his brother, because Jeff had perennially brought a new girl home every other month since he was in ninth grade, and Jared was sure that he wouldn’t understand. And his parents were out for the same reason, because who wanted to ask their parents about that shit? That entire year, Jared struggled to come to grips with the fact that he wasn’t like everyone else and that he had absolutely no one to talk about it with.

Because maybe Jared didn’t like girls because he liked boys instead? But how did that even work? Jared knew about gay people through television, but he’d never met one in real life. It wasn’t something that you ever talked about in their town, and Jared was miserable without anything to go by.

One night in June, a couple of weeks before his birthday, Jared was sleeping over Jensen’s house for the second night in a row. After gorging themselves on junk food and watching just about every horror movie that was playing on Jensen’s movie channels, they holed themselves in Jensen’s room. They were sharing Jensen’s king-sized bed because that’s how they’d always done it, and it was more than big enough for the both of them. It was maybe one in the morning, and they were just lying there in the dark, talking about nothing in particular. There was something about that night and their lazy conversation that made Jared want to tell Jensen everything he’d ever thought about in his life.

“Do you like any girls?” Jared blurted when Jensen’s commentary about how Michael Myers was the shittiest horror villain ever came to a rambling end.

Jensen was quiet for such a long time that Jared almost thought that he’d overstepped some unspoken boundary. But then Jensen spoke up, right before Jared was about to retract his question. “Not really? Why, do you like someone?”

“No,” Jared said. “It’s just--sometimes I think...”

“Sometimes you think?” Jensen prompted.

“That maybe I might not like girls like that,” Jared said, so quietly that he barely heard himself.

Jensen was silent for a long time again, and Jared’s heart began to hammer against his ribs. “Maybe there isn’t a girl you like yet,” he reasoned. “You don’t know. I mean, have you even ever kissed a girl?”

“No,” said Jared, blushing in the dark.

“Then you don’t know,” Jensen said decisively.

“But if I was,” Jared started, and then amended himself. “If I don’t like girls, will you still be my friend?”

No noise again, and Jared was getting really, really sick of all of these silences. “Don’t be a retard,” Jensen said finally, stretching his leg out so he could lightly kick Jared’s.

“Thanks, Jensen,” Jared said before he turned his face into his pillow and closed his eyes.

**

No matter how hard he tries, Jared can’t get the hang of integrals. He’s sitting on the floor of his room, math book open in front of him, and his paper is grubby from all the times he’s had to erase his wrong answers. Blowing his bangs from his face, he leans over his book and rereads the same passage for the fifteenth time, but he’s no closer to understanding than he was when he started. This problem he’s having concentrating is beginning to become an unsettling trend, and he’s starting to wonder if he’s going to be able to pull through till winter break without completely decimating his GPA.

Someone knocks at his front door, and Jared looks up momentarily before leaning back over his homework. He can hear his sister clomping through the front hall, and he dismisses the sound until someone yells his name.

“Jared, someone’s here for you!” Megan shouts, and Jared’s heart skips three beats, because he’s not expecting anyone, and if Jensen’s in his house, Jared doesn’t know what he’ll do or say. He stands up and wipes his hands on his pants, but he can already hear someone coming up the stairs.

His heart’s still going super-fast, but the person who opens his door isn’t Jensen at all. Instead, Danneel sweeps inside, and Jared’s honestly confused because sure, Danneel’s a friend, but she was always much closer to Jensen, and Jared can’t remember the last time she was in his room.

“Um, hi?” he offers, standing awkwardly by his desk. Danneel doesn’t seem to notice where he is as she throws herself down on his bed.

“Hey,” she offers brightly.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Jared asks, still nonplussed.

“Nah,” says Danneel. “I was just bored, and I figured we hadn’t had girl time in forever.”

“Um,” Jared says again, not entirely sure if he should be insulted. “Have we ever had...that before?”

Danneel pauses for a second. “I guess not,” she concedes. “But all the more reason for us to talk now.”

“Not to be rude or anything,” Jared says, “but I’m not getting what we have to talk about that’s so important that you have to come over to my house to do it.”

Leveling an are-you-joking look at him, Danneel kicks her feet out and settles her head against his pillows. Jared sits down again on his floor, still facing her but avoiding her gaze.

“C’mon, Jared,” Danneel wheedles. “Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jared says.

“That’s such bullshit,” Danneel says. “Look, Jared, I just want to know what’s going on.”

“What’s going on with what?”

“Stop playing dumb,” Danneel says angrily. “You know what I’m talking about. What is wrong with you and Jensen? Why have you guys been avoiding each other for the last month? Why is it that when I tried to say hi to him this morning, he nearly bit my head off?”

“I don’t know, Danneel,” Jared says tersely. “Why don’t you ask him?”


“I’ve tried,” she says. “He won’t talk to me.”

“So, what?” Jared says. “You thought you’d come here and make me tell you that it’s all my fault so you could go back and make him feel better?”

“What? No, Jared, that’s not it at all.” Danneel doesn’t sound mad anymore, just upset.

“I mean, you’re more of his friend than mine,” Jared plows on. “I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“Because you’re miserable,” she exclaims. “And so is he, and God, Jared! You’re both my friends and something’s going on, and I want to know what so I can help.”

“You can’t,” Jared says viciously.

“You’re being stupid,” Danneel says. “Look, I don’t know what you guys fought about, but it can’t be that bad--”

“Why don’t you tell him this stuff, huh?” Jared says. “Why am I the one who has to fix everything? He’s the one who’s not talking to me.”

“Jared, I just want to know what’s going on,” Danneel pleads. “I’m your friend too, and I was talking to Genevieve and--”

“Do you and Genevieve have little parties where you talk about me behind my back now?” Jared asks. He knows he’s being mean, but he can’t help it. Her being here, in his room, almost feels like an attack, and he’s not close at all with Danneel, but Jensen is, so he can’t figure out what she’s trying to get at.

“Stop being like this,” says Danneel, and damn, she’s really beginning to sound distressed. Jared can’t stop being angry long enough to feel bad.

“This is just how I am,” he says again. “Maybe you should leave.”

“This is not how you are,” Danneel says. “You’ve never acted like this before. Jared, what is wrong?”

“Nothing!” Jared shouts. “Nothing is wrong! You could’ve asked me this in school today and I would’ve given you the exact same answer, so you wasted a trip for nothing.”

“Jared,” Danneel says and then swallows, composing herself. “I’m just really confused, okay? One day you and Jensen were practically inseparable and the next you can’t even stand to be in the same room. You’re both acting weird and upset and angry all the time, and no one knows what’s going on besides you two. We’re all worried, Jared! I’m not here just about Jensen--I care what’s going on with you too. And if you don’t tell anyone, there’s no way it’ll get better.”

“Look, I’ve told Genevieve a thousand times that I don’t want to talk about it,” Jared says, quietly furious. “And guess what? I still don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine,” Danneel huffs. “Then answer this. Why does Jensen think you’re going out with Misha?”

“Um, maybe because Chris told him?” Jared says hotly. “I don’t know why Jensen thinks anything.”

“He said you told him that you were,” Danneel says. “Which is weird, because I distinctly remember you telling me that Chris was full of bullshit.”

“I never told him anything like that,” Jared says, which isn’t a lie; even if he didn’t outright deny it in the car yesterday, he didn’t confirm anything either.

“Then it’s really strange that he’s so convinced that it’s the truth, isn’t it?” Danneel accuses. Jared doesn’t say anything, and Danneel just looks at him for a couple of seconds before sighing.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” she says. “I won’t tell anyone else.”

“Danneel, I barely know you,” Jared says back. “There’s nothing I want to talk about with you. Can you please just go? I can’t sit here and talk to you anymore. I can’t.”

Danneel pulls herself off of the bed. “If that’s how you feel,” she says stiffly.

“Yeah,” Jared says.

“Fine. If you see the old Jared, can you tell him I miss him? This new version’s a real asshole, you know?” Danneel leaves without letting him say anything back to her, and even though she doesn’t quite slam his door on the way out, it’s a close call. Jared pulls his knees to his chest and rests his head on them, practically shaking as the adrenaline works its way out of his system. He hears someone outside of his room pause and then open his door a little way.

“Is everything okay?” his sister asks hesitantly. “I heard shouting. Where did that girl go?”

“I’m fine,” Jared says automatically. “She had to go home. Everything’s fine.” Megan doesn’t say anything but she does come into his room and sit next to him, her warmth a soothing comfort against his side.

**

Genevieve stays after school with Jared, even though he has drama practice and she’s never acted in her life. She’s been kind of cool towards him all day, so Jared is prepping himself for a chewing-out, and she doesn’t disappoint.

“So Danny told me you were kind of an dick on Tuesday,” she says with no preamble as Jared searches for his script in his locker.

“You and Danneel seem to be getting pretty close,” Jared deflects. Gen doesn’t rise to the bait.

“She’s just worried. You didn’t need to be such a jerk about it.”

“She ambushed me in my own house,” Jared defends. “I’ve told you about a million times that I don’t want to talk about what happened. You could’ve told her and saved her the trouble.”

“I was actually hoping that you’d stop being so freakin’ stubborn and actually let someone know what’s going on with you,” says Gen, tucking her hair behind her ears and fixing Jared with a harsh glare. “Since you never want to talk to me anymore, I was hoping that you’d at least talk to Danny. But I guess that was too much to expect.”

“I guess so,” Jared mumbles.

Genevieve scowls and picks her backpack up from the ground, shouldering it with more force than is probably necessary. “Just to let you know, Jared,” she says, “it’s getting really difficult to hang around with you anymore.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t!” Jared says, stung.

“Maybe I won’t!” Genevieve huffs, turning around and leaving Jared standing alone next to his open locker. Jared can feel the beginnings of a tension headache behind his eyes, and he rotates his shoulders trying to alleviate some of the weight that’s inexplicably settled there. Swinging his book bag onto his back, he walks towards the auditorium, completely distracted from any thoughts of how he’s going to get through rehearsal in one piece.

There’s a small congregation of students standing behind stage, waiting for Ms. Gamble to give directions on who’s rehearsing what scene today. Jared joins them instead of standing awkwardly away from the group, and he’s immediately accosted by Misha, who throws an arm around his neck.

“You’re finally here, sweetheart,” he says. “I was getting so worried!” Today, Misha’s adopted an over-the-top, fake British accent, and Jared wonders how he’s apparently become boyfriends with someone so weird.

“Isn’t your girlfriend going to get jealous if you keep coming onto me like this?” Jared asks, trying to subtly duck out of Misha’s grip.

“She understands that I need male companionship,” Misha says sagely. “She’s perfectly okay with our burgeoning affair.” Julie McNiven, their Helena, is giving Jared a dirty look, but Aldis and Alona are laughing at Misha’s antics.

“She just thinks the two of you are hot,” Aldis says, smiling widely. “Betcha she’d pay good money to see you guys make out.” Alona laughs harder at that, and Misha elbows Jared in the side.

“What do you say, honey? Should we turn our relationship into a peep show?”

“Or not,” replies Jared, finally squirming out of Misha’s hold around his neck. Misha mock-pouts for a minute, and Jared resolutely ignores him.

“Besides,” Alona pipes up, “it’s not Misha who should be worried about jealous girlfriends.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jared questions suspiciously. Alona shrugs coyly, which is annoying as fuck, and Misha clarifies for her, still talking in that ridiculous accent.

“Jensen Ackles talked to me for the first time ever today,” he says nonchalantly. “Something about how you were using me for my body and that you were actually interested in a girl but you weren’t sure you could get her, so you were settling for me.”

“What,” Jared splutters. “But--I--Misha, you’re not really my boyfriend!”

“I can’t believe you’re breaking up with me here!” Misha cries. “In front of all these people, no less!”

“It was weird,” agrees Alona. “I was with him when Jensen came up. I thought you guys were fighting, Jared?”

“We are,” says Jared through gritted teeth. Somehow, this situation has escalated beyond anything he could’ve imagined. Meanwhile, Misha is fake-sobbing into his hands.

“Misha, you are the gayest straight dude I have ever met,” Aldis says dryly right before Ms. Gamble finally emerges from the back of the auditorium to call rehearsal to order.

**

By the age of fifteen, Jared had decided that yes, he was almost definitely gay, and no, he wasn’t telling anyone until he’d had actual physical experience that could solidify his theory. Besides that one night at Jensen’s house, he hadn’t actually confessed to anyone about his possible homosexuality, and he wasn’t too keen on actually coming out. He lucked out in the fact that Jensen hadn’t entered his girl-crazy stage yet, so he still had one friend who didn’t want to spend all of their time together talking about pussy and porn. Which was kind of awesome, because that’s all Jared ever talked about when he got together with Chad.

However, this whole keeping secrets schtick that Jared had going on really backfired on him when his hormones fully reared their potential, because then he had no one to talk to except for Jensen, and he couldn’t talk to Jensen about this anymore. It wasn't because he was afraid that Jensen would stop being his friend or that he’d tell Jared’s parents or anything like that.

It’s just that Jared maybe sort of kinda had a giant crush on Jensen. And isn’t that the shittiest thing, because Jensen’s been Jared’s friend since childhood, and if anything, he should feel like a brother and not a potential boyfriend. It was gradual at first--Jared didn’t even know that it was happening. So he stared a little longer at Jensen when he came out of the pool, and maybe thinking that Jensen smells nice wasn’t something that he should do as Jared’s friend. But that’s normal, right? He was just comparing Jensen to himself, wasn’t he?

Except that he thought it wasn’t normal behavior to think about Jensen while he’s masturbating. Nor was it okay that his favorite fantasy was to imagine Jensen’s lips wrapped around his prick. That’s when Jared knew he was in trouble. Because, without realizing it, he had gone and developed a monumental crush on his best friend.

Jared tried really, really hard to pretend that he and Jensen were in a totally platonic relationship whenever they hung out. But it was so hard to not open his mouth and blurt everything out, because he’s been friends with Jensen so long for a reason. They get along, and they know each other, and the kind of camaraderie they’ve built is a result of fourteen years of being around each other constantly.

Sometimes Jared wished that Jensen would make things easier on him and be a douche bag about something so Jared could remember why it was a bad idea to like your best friend like that. But Jensen’s never been a dick to him, even when his jock friends are acting like assholes, and even when they fight about stupid shit, Jensen’s usually the one who comes forward first to call it off. Jared’s always been too stubborn for his own good.

One day, Jensen was over Jared’s house, lounging in one of the kitchen chairs and helping Jared systematically demolish an entire plate of chocolate chip cookies. The back door crashed open and Megan stormed into the kitchen, sobbing dramatically as she chucked her purse onto the counter. She had just turned twelve, and everything in her life was on one of two extremes: absolutely perfect or dreadfully awful.

“God, Megan,” Jared muttered because the last time she was like this, someone had insulted her clothes or trapper keeper or something equally lame. Megan didn’t answer but just whirled around, stalked up to the kitchen table, and socked Jared hard in the arm. Jensen was muffling his laughter behind his hands, and Megan didn’t seem to notice.

“What’s up, squirt?” Jensen asked when he had regained a straight face.

“Don’t c-call me that!” Megan wailed, throwing herself into an empty chair.

“Sorry,” replied Jensen in a tone that told Jared that he’s not actually repentant at all.

“And if you m-must know,” Megan continued, sniffing, “Jesse Owens told me today that n-no one would ever w-want to date me because I’m ugly!”

“Jesse Owens sounds like a little dickhead,” Jared said, because any boy who messes with his kid sister deserves to eat pavement.

“He’s right!” Megan cried. “I’m too skinny and my hair’s not blonde like Dana Roberts’ and my eyes are mud-colored.” Jared almost wanted to clap his hands over his ears due to the decibels of her crying, but Jensen scooted closer and gently clocked her on the chin, forcing her to look up at him.

“Hey,” Jensen said softly, “don’t be like that. Any guy would be lucky to date you.”

“Jesse Owens is the most popular boy in our grade,” Megan countered. “If he says that no one will want to date me, then no one will want to date me!”

“Megan, you’re twelve,” said Jared darkly. “You shouldn’t be dating yet at all.” That didn’t help the situation.

“Would it make it better if this Jesse punk thinks you have a boyfriend?” Jensen asked gently.

“I don’t know,” Megan sniffled. “Maybe. But I don’t, so why does it matter?”

“But Jesse doesn’t know that,” said Jensen mischievously. “Maybe I’ll pick you up from school one day and we can pretend that you’re my girlfriend.”

“Gross,” said Jared disgustedly. “You’re four years older than her! I’m going to be sick.”

“You would do that?” said Megan, ignoring Jared completely. “Really?”

“Yup,” said Jensen. “After all, I can’t let the entire sixth grade think that my best friend’s sister isn’t completely awesome.”

Megan squealed and threw her arms around Jensen’s neck. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Jared tried to figure out why he all of a sudden felt so inexplicably fond of Jensen right then. Like, all Jared wanted to do that very second was pull Jensen over the table and kiss him until they both couldn’t breathe properly.

And then it hit him.

Fuck.

Jared had gone and done the most monumentally stupid thing he ever could have.

He’d gone and fallen in love with his best friend.

**

Jared slowly walks down the street past Jensen’s house, head ducked and hands shoved into his jeans pockets. He feels really sleazy, almost like a peeping tom, but he wants to make sure that Jensen’s the only one home before he goes up and knocks on his door. It’s always been typical that Jensen’s parents go out together the second Friday of every month, and Jared knows for a fact that Mac is sleeping over his house tonight, but he’s still paranoid that he’s wrong and he’ll have to talk to Mrs. Ackles or something.

After his third pass though, Jared is pretty certain that no one else is home. Jensen’s light is the only one that’s on, besides the low glow of a lamp in their front-facing living room, so Jared squares his shoulders, takes a deep breath, and starts up the front walkway. Before he can have any second thoughts, he firmly presses the doorbell and waits as he hears the muffled sounds of Jensen coming down the stairs.

Jensen pulls open the door and he stands there, staring at Jared while Jared stares back. His arm twitches on the doorknob, and Jared’s almost afraid that the door’s about to be slammed in his face. But Jensen just heaves a big sigh and schools his face into an impassive expression.

“Can I help you?” he asks, coldly polite.

“Can I come in?” Jared replies, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. “I’d like to talk to you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” says Jensen.

“I won’t stay long,” Jared counters, stepping forward so Jensen has no choice but to step back unless he wants Jared right up in his personal space.

Jensen scowls deeply but turns his back on Jared and starts up the stairs. “Suit yourself,” he says over his shoulder. Jared closes the door gently behind him, throws the deadbolt, and follows Jensen up to his room.

Once they’re inside, Jensen turns his desk chair around a straddles it, and Jared decides to sit on the bed, very careful to stay on the edge.

“So talk,” Jensen says. “I don’t have all night.”

Jared steels himself and takes a deep breath before he begins. “So, the funniest thing,” he says, looking at the floor so he can avoid Jensen’s eyes. “I was talking to Misha today and he said that you spoke to him about me?”

“I might’ve said something to him,” Jensen says.

“That’s what I want to know,” Jared says. “Why did you say those things about me?”

“I don’t like him,” Jensen says stiffly. “You shouldn’t be dating him.”

“Jensen,” Jared says stubbornly, “you’re not my friend anymore. It was your decision. You shouldn’t care who I date or what I do, because you’re the one who doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Oh, c’mon, Jared!” says Jensen in a frustrated tone. “Misha Collins? He’s a freakin’ nutcase.”

“Again, I don’t see why you give a flying fuck!” Jared says harshly. “I mean, Jesus, Jensen!”

“If you are like--that,” Jensen says stiltedly, “then you could do a lot better than that fruitcake.”

“Like what, Jensen?” asks Jared hotly. “Gay? Are you so disgusted with me that you can’t even say the word? Because I am, you know. Gay. I’ve always been. Maybe you shouldn’t have let me share your bed with you all those times when we were kids. You never know--I could’ve molested you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jensen says, flushing darkly.

“No,” Jared says. “I don’t get what’s going on with you. You need to decide if you don’t ever want to see me again or if you still want to be friends. You can’t have it both ways. I can’t deal with it anymore, man.”

“It’s hard, okay?” says Jensen. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Jared says. “I can’t handle it, Jensen. I can’t have you running hot and cold and fucking with my life like this. We need to figure out what we are to each other.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve kept your fat mouth shut then,” snaps Jensen, standing up so abruptly that he knocks his chair over when he swings his leg to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Jared says, his chest so tight that it’s almost hard to breathe. “If I had known things would end up like this, I never would’ve told you.”

“Well, it’s not like it was true, was it?” Jensen snarls, stalking up towards Jared in three long strides, right in his face.

“What?” Jared says bewildered. “Um, yeah, I wasn’t lying, Jensen. You think I would ruin our friendship over something that I wasn’t one hundred percent sure about?”

“And yet here you are,” Jensen says, pointing a finger right in Jared’s chest. “Dating the weirdest person in the fucking school.”

“Jensen,” says Jared, ready to set the story straight, but Jensen ignores him and interrupts his explanation.

“So, you apparently love me,” says Jensen nastily. “Doesn’t mean that you’re not letting that queer suck your dick.”

“Go to hell, Jensen,” says Jared as he feels hurt bloom in his stomach. “You don’t know anything about me. And don’t call him that.”

“But that’s what he is!” Jensen yells. “Queer! Faggot! Cocksucker!”

“Fuck you!” Jared shouts back, standing up so he can get in Jensen’s face. “That’s what I am too!”

“You like it, don’t you?” says Jensen meanly. “When he gets on his knees and blows you. You fucking love it.”

“Why do you care who’s sucking my dick?” Jared says. “What, are you curious? You ever think about it too?” He’s goading Jensen and he’s too upset to care how badly this might fuck everything up.

Jensen bares his teeth, but Jared’s started this game and he wants to keep going, so he plows on. “You want it, Jen? Just say the word. I’ll fuck your face so pretty that you won’t be able to talk for a week.” Jensen pushes Jared hard, and his knees hit the edge of the mattress but he doesn’t fall over.

“What’s wrong?” Jared taunts. “I’m too close to the truth? That what you want, Jen?” He steps up, close as he can get to Jared without actually touching him. Jared leans down close so he can speak right in Jensen’s ear. “Or maybe you want me to suck you, huh? Swallow you down until you can’t remember anything but how my mouth feels around your cock.” He backs up, and he can tell that Jensen’s almost about to clock him in the face, so he does the next best thing he can think to do. Using both hands, he grabs Jensen’s face and kisses him like he’s wanted to do for the past two years.

Their teeth clack hard and Jensen gasps, but Jared barely registers it. Jensen’s lips are dry, chapped beneath his own, and he can feel the ghost of Jensen’s breath on his face. The underside of Jensen’s lip is caught between his and he uses the tip of his tongue to touch it, taste the curve of it. Before he can even think past one thought though, Jensen’s pushing him away, looking wildly at him.

“What’s the matter, baby?” mocks Jared. “You afraid you’ll like it? Scared you’re a cocksucker just like me?” Jensen doesn’t respond, just continues to look at Jared like his whole world is falling apart around him. Something twists in Jared’s belly but he keeps going, eager to hurt Jensen as much as Jensen hurt him.

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” Jared continues in a fake soothing tone. “Misha’ll take care of me if you don’t. He’s real good about it.”

Jared really thinks that he’s going to end up on his ass this time, nursing a split lip courtesy of Jensen’s knuckles. But instead of hitting him or pushing him, Jensen whips forward and surges up until he’s the one kissing Jared, throwing Jared completely for a loop. Their mouths are crushed together and Jensen’s got his leg wedged up between Jared’s thighs and holy shit, that’s Jensen’s tongue pulling Jared’s into his mouth. It’s spitty and Jared is kissing Jensen and oh, my fucking Christ, it’s so good, Jared’s head could explode with it. The hairs on the back of his neck are standing up and he unconsciously brings both of his hands to Jensen’s jaw so he can’t tilt his face further into the kiss, licking as far into Jensen’s mouth as he can, feeling the ridges of Jensen’s teeth under his tongue. Jensen’s hand is knotted in Jared’s shirt and his warmth is seeping through and all Jared can think about is him and them and how good it feels and how long he’s been waiting for this.

It’s not hard to breathe, even though Jared thought it might be, but his head is spinning with it all and he can’t catch a coherent thought. If Jensen’s leg gets any closer to his groin, they’ll probably be on their way to a serious issue, and if Jared had the foresight and the courage, he’d take his hands from Jensen’s face and drop them to his ass, pulling until they were as close as possible. As it is, he stands there, almost rocking into Jensen’s thigh, feeling Jensen’s lips pliant under his, memorizing the curl of Jensen’s tongue against his own.

As abruptly as it began, it ends again, and Jensen pulls away for a second time, looking at Jared wide-eyed. He backs up hastily, almost tripping over his upturned chair, and Jared’s upstairs brain crashes back into full clarity.

“What the fuck, Jensen?” Jared shouts, waving his arms frantically. “What the fuck was that?”

“You kissed me first!” Jensen counters, crossing his arms across his chest defensively.

“Yeah, to make you mad!” Jared says. “You weren’t supposed to kiss me again!”

“I thought that’s what you wanted!”

“And I thought that’s why you didn’t want to be my friend anymore! So, what, Jensen? I told you I fucking loved you and you walked out of my room and didn’t speak to me for a month, but you actually wanted to kiss me this entire time? Is that what I’m getting here?”

“Fuck you!” yells Jensen. “You think this has fucking been easy on me?”

“You’ve made my life a living hell!” shouts Jared. “And here you are, and you felt it too, but you were just too much of a chickenshit to tell me you were scared about it.”

“I don’t know what I fucking feel, all right? I just--I don’t know.”

“Go to hell, Jensen,” says Jared, quiet again. “Grow some balls and stop being such a fucking child.”

“Get out of my room,” snarls Jensen, furious. “Stay out of my life.”

“Gladly,” snaps Jared, stomping out of the room and down the stairs as fast as his feet can take him. His heart is still trying to break through his sternum.

**

“I can tell you anything, right?” Jared said, his fingers fidgeting in his lap as he looked over at Jensen, who was lounging on Jared’s bed and tossing a tennis ball absentmindedly into the air. They were supposed to be working on a chemistry project, but Jensen didn’t feel like doing math, and Jared didn’t want to work on it alone. Until twenty minutes prior, they had been playing Street Fighter on Jared’s old SNES, but Jensen had been K-Oed one too many times and quit in a pique of childish annoyance.

“No, I actually hate you, and I tell Danneel all of your secrets,” Jensen said, throwing the ball hard enough that it bounced off of Jared’s ceiling, making a hollow thunk.

“Jerk,” Jared said, picking up a rolled-up pair of socks and lobbing it at Jensen’s head. Jensen wrinkled his nose but didn’t hesitate to chuck them back at Jared. They bounced off of his shoulder and rolled under his bed, where they’ll inevitably lie forgotten for at least six months.

“Don’t throw your dirty-ass shit at me,” Jensen said, but he was trying to hide a smile. “What’s up? You’ve been fidgety all day.”

Jared’s heart was pounding about a million beats a second and his palms were sweaty against his jeans. When he woke up that morning, he’d been determined to come clean. He thought he’d been sick of hiding it from Jensen. If he was being truthful, he was maybe hoping that Jensen would feel the same way.

“Don’t freak out or anything, okay?” he said, gearing up for the confession that he’d been waiting for over a year to divulge.

“No promises,” Jensen said lightly, turning his head on Jared’s pillow so he can fix Jared with an amused stare. “Spit it out already. I don’t have all freakin’ night.”

“I’m gay,” Jared blurts, and whoa, that is not what he meant to say at all. Jensen goes very still on the bed, the tennis ball cradled in his hands.

“Okay,” Jensen said lowly. “Okay, wow. Jared, are you sure? I mean, you can’t really be sure yet, can you?”

“I’m sure,” Jared said even though he wasn’t. “I know we talked about it a couple of years ago, and I wasn’t certain then, but...I think I am now.”

“You think?” Jensen confirmed. “So it’s not one hundred percent?”

“Yes,” Jared said, as firm as he could. “It’s as close to one hundred percent as I can get without any actual experience.”

“Okay,” Jensen said again, turning his face away from Jared to stare at the ceiling. He was silent for at least a minute while Jared’s stomach turned itself inside out. When it became clear that Jensen wasn’t going to speak again until Jared did, Jared gathered the last of his courage and opened his mouth.

“That’s not all,” Jared said in a rush.

“Wait,” Jensen said, sounding slightly panicked. “I don’t know, Jared. Maybe we should save the rest of it for later. Let’s not overwhelm ourselves he--”

“I’m in love with you,” Jared said, the words tripping over themselves as they fell from his mouth.

Jensen sat up at that, looking at Jared with a wild expression. He got off the bed and paced to Jared’s door and back. “What?” he said, completely gobsmacked.

“Um. In love,” Jared clarified. “With you. I mean, don’t get me wrong here, Jen. I’m not expecting you to feel like I do or anything like that. I’m just sick of hiding it.”

“You’re in love with me,” said Jensen, completely expressionless.

“Yeah, pretty sure,” Jared said weakly. “Look, can we not make a big deal out of this? I just wanted you to know, but it doesn’t have to change anything.”

“Doesn’t have to change anything?” Jensen parroted sarcastically. “No, my best friend just tells me that he’s in love with me but he expects everything can just be as it fucking was, right?”

“Jensen,” Jared pleaded, feeling as though the floor had dropped out from under his feet.

“I mean, what the fuck, Jared?” Jensen said, whipping around so he wouldn’t have to look at Jared anymore. “You think you’re in love with me? Where the fuck is this coming from?”

“I can’t help it,” Jared said powerlessly. “It’s just how I feel. I’ve been trying to change, but I can’t, and--”

“So you thought you’d tell me, huh? What do you expect me to do here?”

“Nothing!” exclaimed Jared. “Jensen, honestly, I just wanted to tell you--”

“So what? So we could start a big fat faggot relationship?”

“Don’t say that,” Jared said nauseously. “Please don’t say that to me.”

“It’s true, though,” Jensen sneered. “God, Jared.”

“I’m sorry,” Jared said, almost begging. “Just forget I said anything.”

“I can’t forget now,” Jensen said, incensed. “How long, Jared?”

“Jensen--”

“How long have you been in love with me? Huh? How fucking long, Jared?”

“I don’t know!” Jared exploded. “A year, maybe? Why does it matter?” He refused to tell Jensen that it had been two years--twenty four freakin’ months of being conflicted and disgusted and so fucking confused.

“A year,” Jensen said hollowly. “Jesus Christ.” A chill settled over Jared’s body, and he was very glad that he didn’t tell the truth.

“Jen,” Jared said miserably, standing up so he could walk over and put a hand on Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen immediately smacked it off and turned so they were standing face to face.

“Don’t touch me,” he snarled.

“What?” Jared said, flabbergasted. “Do you think you’ll catch the gay if I touch you? Fuck, Jensen, I didn’t think you were a homophobe.”

“I’m not,” Jensen snapped, getting angrier by the second.

“You’re sure acting like one!” Jared returned, and he was starting to feel like he was about to get sick.

“Fuck you, Jared,” said Jensen furiously. “You can’t put this all on me at once and expect me to be okay with it.”

“No, but I can expect you to not be a dick about it,” Jared retorted.

“Fuck you,” Jensen said. “I just--I can’t fucking deal with this, Jared. I can’t.” He pushed Jared away and stalked out of the room, slamming Jared’s door behind him. Jared felt his chest tighten with every step Jensen took down his stairs. When he heard the front door slam, he crossed his room and violently threw up in his trashcan.

**

The next week at school passes in a surreal haze, and Jared’s not entirely sure about all of the details. His feelings constantly vacillate between anger and disgusted humiliation, and he’s still not getting any sleep. Jensen’s putting in even more of an effort to avoid him, and Gen’s still pissed that he blew up at Danneel, so she’s been cold and distant whenever Jared does see her. Instead of dealing with her, or apologizing, Jared starts staying away from her, hiding in the library during their lunch period, and generally being a pussy about the entire damn situation. He ends up getting a C on his Jane Eyre test, and Ms. Gamble takes him aside and scolds him for not putting forth his best effort in rehearsal, and every night, he spends hours looking at his wall before he can fall asleep.

By the time Friday rolls around, Jared’s not sure how much more of this he can take. Everything is settling on him like one giant weight, and most things make him want to scream or throw things or generally pitch a giant fit. He can’t even go home, because his sister went and blabbed to their mom that something was up, and now all he gets whenever he comes down from his room is this hard-ass guidance counselor schtick that he really can’t handle, what with everything else and all. The bell rings Friday afternoon, and he lurks in the art rooms for a half an hour until almost everyone has left the building.

Jared gets to his truck without running into anyone he knows, and he immediately throws it into drive and peals out of the parking lot as fast as he can. It’s chilly for Texas in November, but he doesn’t turn the heat up, and instead of taking a left like he usually would to get to his house, he turns right on an impulse and guns it down the street until he’s left his town and entered the sparsely-populated outskirts.

He’s been driving for about thirty-five minutes when he makes a sharp left onto a narrow side street. Bumping over the rutted ground, Jared drives slowly to avoid accidentally running into a tree, following the unpaved path until it ends, about ten miles from the main road. He turns his car off and opens the door, wrapping his arms around him as the wind kicks up, the chilly breeze cutting through his thin sweatshirt. Stumbling over the uneven ground, he picks his way through the underbrush until he reaches the edge of the stream that’s always been here, watching the water rush over the rocks with a detached interest.

When Jensen first got his license, he and Jared used to drive anywhere to get away from home. The sense of freedom was exhilarating, and Jared can’t remember how many times they got in trouble for not telling their parents where they were going. They’d discovered this stream less than a year ago just through aimless wandering, and they used to come here whenever they were bored or procrastinating. Jared didn’t know that he was coming here until he did.

Aimlessly kicking a rock into into the water, Jared plops down onto the ground, letting the wind ruffle his hair. He’s there long enough that he’s practically shivering from the cold, but it’s oddly peaceful, and he doesn’t want to leave. His thoughts are swimming in his head, stumbling over one another as he replays the events of the past two months over and over, trying to make sense of everything. Anxiety is a roiling mass in his belly, and he’s feeling jittery with how much he wants things to go back to how they were before.

The sun sets while he’s sitting there, and everything slowly goes dark around him, but he’s not uneasy with the lack of light. He can just barely see the shifting stream, but he can still hear it gurgling, and the sand is cool as he sifts it through his fingers. It’s not helping him come to a solution, but he feels better here than he’s felt at home for a long time.

Eventually, he heaves a giant sigh and pulls himself up from his position. His leg is asleep and he hisses as it painfully wakes up, cramping. If he doesn’t get home soon, his mother is going get pissy, and he hadn’t exactly told anyone where he was going. Trudging back to the car, he takes one last look over his shoulder before he pulls open the driver-side door and gets behind the wheel.

However, his engine refuses to turn over, no matter how many times he tries the ignition, and worry blooms in his chest. “C’mon,” he mutters, twisting the key, listening to the engine sputter uselessly under his hood. “C’mon, c’mon. Please.” But the engine dies with a hissing whine and Jared hits the steering wheel several times with his hand.


“Goddammit,” he snarls. He keeps trying the key even though it’s useless, and he’s so frustrated, he could cry. The nearest main road is at least ten miles through the dark over rough terrain, and shit, he’s not stupid enough to risk it during the night. He shouldn’t have come in the first place--his truck’s never been the most reliable car, and now he’s stranded in the middle of nowhere with no help and nobody knows where he is. His mother doesn’t believe in newfangled things like mobile phones, so he has no way to contact anyone unless he tries to build a fire or something.

He pops open the hood in a last-ditch attempt, but he knows next to nothing about cars, and he can’t see anything wrong in the low glow from his pen flashlight, so he gives it up as a lost cause and tries the ignition one last time. Nothing happens, no noise from the engine, so he gives up, pocketing the key.

“Just my luck,” he mutters darkly, throwing his head against the back of his headrest. He has some food in his bag, leftover from lunch, but not much, and his stomach is already growling hungrily. At the same time, the night is getting colder around him, and all he has in his backseat is a single blanket, covered in dog hair. Still, he can’t see any other option, so he resigns himself to bedding down and spending the night . He doesn’t eat anything so he can save some food for tomorrow, and he generally feels miserable as he lies uncomfortably across the backseat of his truck, the seatbelt buckle digging painfully into his arm. He stares out of the window as midnight comes and passes, watching the haze of clouds as they blow across the moon, and he drifts off wondering how hard is mom is freaking out.

When he wakes up, it’s to the sound of rain pouring down heavily on the roof of his car, drowning out all other noises. Jared’s heart sinks further, because he can barely see five feet out of his window. It’s chilly enough in his car without being wet, and he doesn’t know if it’s wise to try and hike ten miles through the mud with no protective gear whatsoever. But he doesn’t want to stay here stuck for another day either, so he doesn’t know what options he has. Trying the key one last time, Jared resigns himself to the fact that his car is, in fact, completely broken down, and he steels himself for the hike ahead of him.

Jared only gets about a mile down the road before he concedes defeat and returns to his car. He’s shivering violently from the cold and the rain, and it took twice as long as he expected to even get a mile down the road due to the squelching mud and heavy wind. Exhausted, he crawls into the backseat, peeling his wet sweatshirt off and throwing it into the footwell, curling up under his blanket. Deciding that he’ll head out as soon as the rain lets up, he huddles into a ball, watching droplets of water careen down the windows.

By the time evening rolls around, it’s still pouring, and Jared feels as though he should be panicking or anxious, but all he feels is bored complacency. An hour ago, he ate the remainder of yesterday’s lunch when he found he couldn’t ignore his aching stomach any longer, and now he’s facing another night in his car with no food. He collected some rain water in an old cup that he found underneath one of the seats, but it tasted odd, probably because it mixed with the remnants of week-old coke. He settles down and watches the shadows play over the roof of his car until he falls asleep to the sounds of the storm.

It’s still raining when he wakes up again, early Sunday morning, and he wonders what he must have done to deserve such bad luck. Maybe, he reasons, he’s remembering yesterday too negatively and he should try again to get to the main road. Except, when he picks up his sweatshirt from the floor, it’s still damp and cool, and Jared’s fairly sure that all of his memories from his aborted hike are completely true. He figures that he’ll wait until noon and if the rain hasn’t let up, he’ll try again, as unpleasant as it may be.

He’s still holed up in his car by eleven, and weather’s perhaps incrementally better, but he’s not quite ready to go outside yet. All of a sudden, he hears the rumble of an approaching car over the storm, and something shifts uneasily in the pit of his stomach. On one hand, it’s possible that someone is coming down here and has the ability to help Jared out. On the other hand, it could be an axe-murderer who’ll delight in cutting Jared into indistinguishable bits. At any rate, he figures his chances for survival are better if he finds the source of the noise rather than hiding out in the backseat of his car. Immediately after he steps outside, he’s soaked again, his hair plastered to his face. His rescuer seems to be getting closer, which is kind of weird, because this stream is literally in the middle of nowhere, and Jared doesn’t know why anyone would come down this road during a torrential downpour.

Headlights come into view all at a sudden, and Jared throws his hand over his eyes against the glare as a car squelches through the mud and comes to a stop right in front of him. When the driver turns the engine off, Jared’s able to get a good look at the make and the model of the car and his heart stops dead in his chest. Jensen tumbles out into the mud, looking at Jared like he’s just seen a ghost. He crosses the distance between them in three long strides and socks Jared hard in the arm before he throws his arms tight around Jared’s neck. Jared’s too surprised to do anything but stand stock-still, his arms glued to his sides.

“What is wrong with you?” Jensen cries, pushing Jared away as quickly as he’d hugged him. “Do you know how worried everyone has been?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Jared says numbly. “My car broke down and it’s raining too hard to make it back to the road.”

“God, Jared, your mother’s going crazy!”

“I’m sorry,” Jared says uselessly. “How did you know I was going to be here?”

Jensen shakes the water out of his eyes. “I don’t know. Lucky guess,” he says. “I was looking everywhere, and I just remembered this place and thought to come here.”

“Thanks,” Jared says quietly. “I was kind of screwed.”

“Yeah, you kind of were!” Jensen says angrily. “What were you going to do if I hadn’t found you, huh? Just sit here and starve?”

“No!” says Jared, stung. “I was waiting for the rain to let up before I did anything.”

“Were you?” Jensen asks, still pissed. “I mean, it doesn’t look like you tried too hard. You’ve been missing since after school Friday.”

“I didn’t ask you to come find me,” defends Jared. “I can’t help that my car died.”

“So I was supposed to wait at home and not do anything? What the fuck, Jared?”

“I don’t know, Jensen! Seeing as you don’t really like me anymore, I figured you wouldn’t even care that no one knew where I was.”

“Go to hell, Jared,” Jensen snarls. “I was really fucking worried, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Why do you even care?” says Jared. “You’ve made it pretty clear this past month that you can’t even stand to be around me anymore.”

“Don’t pin this all on me,” Jensen warns. “Jesus, Jared, we’ve been friends since we were three. Of course I fucking cared when your mom called my mom frantic because she didn’t know where you were.”

“Well, that’s good,” says Jared stiffly. “You can go back and tell her where I am, and she can come get me and stop freaking out.”

“Don’t be a retard, Jared,” Jensen snaps. “I’ll take you home and your parents can get a tow truck for your car.”

“No thank you,” Jared says. “It’s fine. I can wait. Just tell her that I’m here, and then you never have to talk to me again. I promise.”

“Stop being stubborn,” Jensen says, pulling on Jensen’s arm. “Just get in the car.”

“No,” Jared says, yanking his arm back to his side. “I mean, you obviously can’t stand to be around me anymore. I won’t force my presence on you for the half-hour drive home. You found me. You don’t have any responsibility for the situation.”

“Stop it,” Jensen says, and whoa, he sounds really upset.

“Why? It’s the truth,” says Jared.

“No it isn’t,” Jensen says. “It isn’t. I don’t hate you.”

“Then what do you feel about me? Huh, Jensen? What am I to you?”

“I--I don’t,” Jensen stammers, and Jared nearly screams in frustration.

“What? What are you? Spit it out already!” Jensen braces himself for the immediate rejection, just barely resisting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut. “C’mon, Jensen. Tell it how it is. I’m a big boy--I can take it.”

“I fucking love you, okay?” Jensen yells, his face screwed up. “That’s how I feel, all right?”

Jared feels like he’s been hit with a two-by-four, and he stumbles back three steps. “Bullshit!” he shouts, almost losing his footing in the mud.

“God, Jared,” Jensen voice cracks, and something twists unpleasantly in Jared’s chest.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Jared says. “It’s okay. I know you don’t feel like I do, so don’t fucking lie to me.”

“You don’t know anything,” Jensen says. “You think this has been easy for me?”

“Why didn’t you just tell me? You let me think for all this time--”

“What was I supposed to, huh? I didn’t exactly wake up asking to like this, you know! I thought maybe if ignored it for long enough, it would go away. But you couldn’t let me do that, could you, Jared? You had to go and fuck everything up.”

“Don’t take your shit out on me, Jensen,” Jared says. “It’s not my fault that you can’t deal with things the way they are.”

“I never asked for this to happen,” says Jensen wildly. “Why couldn’t you have just left it alone, Jared?”

“Because I’m not an emotional retard like you!” Jared blows up. “I can deal with my feelings, Jensen, but obviously you can’t!”

“That’s a load of crap,” Jensen says. “You’ve been just as shitty to everyone else as I have.” And okay, that’s true, but it doesn’t mean that Jared wants to hear it.

“Fine,” he says woodenly. “So where do we go from here? I don’t see anything working out if you hate me for ruining your life like this.”

“I don’t hate you,” Jensen says, and he’s getting closer now, closing the distance between them again. “Haven’t you been listening to me at all?”

“Yes, I have, Jensen! I’ve heard you say that you’re apparently in love with me but you can’t deal with the fact that you might be gay. I mean, it wasn’t exactly easy for me either, you know? And I went and just let everything out with you, and you shut me down. And you didn’t even try to talk to me about it or let me know exactly why you were so upset. So I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“You said before that we could forget what happened. Can we? Is it still possible?”

Jared swallows. “No. I can’t do that anymore, Jen.”

“I didn’t think so.” Jensen looks at the ground and then back up, staring Jared square in the face with an indistinguishable expression. “Okay,” he says, mainly to himself, and then once again, stronger. “Okay.”

Then he takes one more giant step forward and does something that Jared totally wasn’t expecting at all. When Jensen’s lips touch his, they’re searingly hot, and he can taste the rainwater trickle onto his tongue. Jensen’s knotted one fist into the wet cloth of Jared’s sweatshirt, and Jared’s just barely let himself sink into the wet warmth of Jensen’s mouth on his before he’s using all of his resolve to push Jensen away.

“You gotta stop fucking with me, Jensen,” he pleads. “I can’t take it.”

“I’m not,” Jensen says earnestly. “I, seriously--I’m not. I just don’t know what I’m doing here, okay?”

“Figure it out. Please.” Jared’s close to breaking down--he can feel it.

“It’s just--I want to. I really do. I’m sick of pretending that I don’t.”

“Jensen,” Jared says. “What do you want? Tell it to me straight.”

“You, okay? That’s what I want.”

“You need to be sure. I can’t--if you’re not sure--”

“I’m sure,” Jensen says, even though he doesn’t sound all that positive about it. “Just, slowly, okay?”

Jared has a million things he could say to that, and they’re all stumbling over his tongue to try and make it out of his mouth. But in the end, there’s only one thing he can respond with, and it isn’t a rejection or a question but an answer, plain and simple.

“Okay,” Jared says.

Jensen’s immediately in his space again, grip tight on both of Jared’s arms, but he doesn’t close that last inch of distance between their faces, leaving it up to Jared, making sure it’s Jared’s decision. So Jared decides the only he can, cradling Jensen’s jaw with one of his hands and kissing him harshly, almost desperately. It’s immensely awkward at first, and their teeth clack painfully, but Jared can’t give up now that he’s put everything on the line, and he shifts his face a little, trying to get a better angle. Things fit then, easy like his friendship with Jensen has always been, and he can feel each of Jensen’s fingers bruising his arm but he can’t care. Jensen’s tongue tentatively touches his, almost like Jensen’s asking for permission, and Jared can’t deny him. He pulls Jensen’s tongue into his mouth with small, suggestive sucks, and it’s spitty but not gross, not Jensen and him. Jensen’s arching into him, trying to get closer, and it feels right.

Jared loses track of how long they stand there, making out while the rain falls around them, but at one point, he tries to move his feet and almost slips, throwing everything off kilter. They break apart, and Jensen starts laughing, a little chuckle that morphs into a full-blown belly laugh. Jared can’t help but laugh with him.

“Come on, hot stuff,” Jensen says breathlessly. “Let’s get you home before your mom has a heart attack.” He holds out his hand tentatively, almost as if he expects Jared to slap it away, and Jared does the only thing he knows is right. He takes a hold and lets Jensen pull him to the car, his happiness a buoyant weight in his chest.

**

Epilogue

“You gonna get that?” Jensen murmurs against Jared’s mouth as the home phone rings obnoxiously, echoing through the house.

“Nah,” Jared says. “I’m busy.”

“Good answer,” says Jensen, and Jared hooks his leg around Jensen’s waist so he can pull Jensen more firmly on top of him. He likes Jensen like this, a solid weight on him, pressing him into his bed. He ruts shamelessly up against Jensen, moaning quietly into Jensen’s mouth at the friction, and Jensen responds by nibbling on Jared’s lower lip playfully, grinning as best he can. Jared takes the opportunity to move his mouth from Jensen’s lips down Jensen’s throat, focusing on the sensitive spot that never fails to make Jensen shiver.

All of a sudden, Jared’s mom’s voice pierces the silence, calling out, and Jensen tumbles off of the bed in his haste to get away. Jared groans and throws his head back as Jensen gets up and runs a hand through his mussed hair.

“The door’s locked, you know,” Jared says peevishly. “She can’t get in.”

“Sorry--I’m sorry,” Jensen says. “I just--”

“I get it. You’re not ready.” Jared wants to be understanding--really, he does. For the most part, the last seven months have been pretty awesome, and not only because he’s finally started having sex. But at the same time, it’s been over half of a year and no one but Jared and Jensen know that there’s an actual Jared and Jensen.

“I’m trying here,” Jensen starts, but Jared’s heard this speech about a jillion times. Pretty much whenever they almost get caught making out or, once, memorably, when Jared’s hand was down Jensen’s pants. Jensen barely let Jared touch him for a week after that.

“It’s okay,” Jared sighs, and when Jensen opens his mouth defensively, he says, “Really, it is. We’re okay. I can wait. Just, I don’t know. I want to be able to tell my mom why I’m so happy, you know? She won’t care. Your parents won’t care. I don’t know what you’re so scared about.”

“You can’t know that for sure,” Jensen says, but he comes over to sit next to Jared on the bed anyways.

“I guess,” Jared says dubiously. “But even if they throw you out, I’ll still be here. I promise.”

“You’ll be my sugar daddy?” Jensen teases weakly. “‘Cause I gotta tell you, this sweet ass doesn’t come cheap.”


“I take it back,” says Jared dead-pan. “Definitely leaving you. I just can’t afford to keep you in the opulence you deserve, baby.”

“Shut up,” Jensen laughs, pushing Jared’s shoulder.

“Let’s do something tonight,” Jared says suddenly.

“Can’t,” Jensen says apologetically. “I told Tom I’d hang out with him.”

“Tomorrow, then,” Jared prods. “I’m bored.”

“Movie?” Jensen asks hopefully. “You can pick.”

“South Park?” Jared confirms, and Jensen smiles widely.

“Um, duh,” he says.

“Sounds good,” says Jared, sitting up and kissing Jensen lightly on the lips.

**

Jensen’s been distracted and distant all week, and Jared’s honestly getting a little worried. They saw the South Park movie last Friday but Jensen had been completely out of it when they left the theater, lost in thought, and even Jared repeating the funny lines in his best Cartman impression had done little more than illicit a weak laugh.

“And then Megan grew tentacles and began eating crawfish,” Jared ends irritably, shooting a sidelong glance at Jensen.

“Really? Wow,” Jensen says, obviously not listening to a word that Jared’s been saying.

“No, not really, Jensen!” Jared exclaims. “Did you even hear anything I just said?”

“Yeah, I did!” Jensen defends. “Megan dragged you to the mall!”

“And?” Jared prompts.

“Um,” Jensen stalls. “Tentacles? Sorry, man. I was thinking about something else. Didn’t mean to tune you out.”

“Seriously, what is up with you?” Jared asks. “You’ve been weird all week.”

“Nothing,” Jensen s ays. “Just thinking about something. Don’t worry about it.”

“Something bad?” Jared asks.

“Nah,” Jensen says flippantly. “It’s nothing to be freaked out. I promise.”


“Okay,” says Jared hesitantly. “You can talk to me, you know. If you need to.”

“Stop being such a girl,” Jensen says. “I’m fine.”

“Eat me,” Jared says.

“Maybe later.” Jensen smirks and then ruffles Jared’s hair like he’s six again. “Hey, you should stay the weekend. My parents are going to visit my Aunt Barb in Houston so they won’t be around. Mac’s going too.”

“Oh?” Jared asks, smiling. “Yeah, dude, sounds great.”

“Good,” Jensen says, nodding decisively as though Jared’s agreed to something much more important than a weekend that’ll presumably be full of lots of sex.

When Jared comes over the next day, Jensen’s not exactly alone in the house as expected. Danneel is spread out on Jensen’s L-shaped leather sofa, sitting as though she owns it while watching Indiana Jones absently on Jensen’s big TV.

“Don’t ask me,” Jensen says, giving Jared a slightly apologetic look. “She just showed up about an hour ago and decided to steal my couch and watch crappy TV.”

“Indiana Jones is a classic,” Danneel says. “Don’t rag on me because you have shit taste in movies, Ackles. Hey, Jared.”

“Hi, Danny,” Jared returns, feeling slightly disappointed. He hopes that she doesn’t stick around all night because he has very definite plans that will absolutely not take place with her anywhere in the house. Jensen sits down on the half of the couch that Danny’s not occupying, and Jared sits next to him, careful to not be so close.

“Seriously,” Jensen says. “It’s my TV. Gimme the remote.”

“I’m your guest,” Danneel says loftily. “I get to decide what we’re watching. It’s only polite.”

“Bull,” Jensen grumbles, but he leans back anyways, abandoning his battle for control over the channel. “You weren’t invited--you just showed up. Guest my ass.”

“Ladies first then,” she says. Secretly Jared’s glad, because he really likes Temple of Doom even though Jensen thinks it’s a travesty when compared to Raiders. “I want to see them eat the snakes,” she continues.

“Whatever,” Jensen says, and they watch the movie for the next half an hour in relative silence, interrupting only to rag on the truly annoying leading chick. The temple guys have just removed the slave’s heart when Jared’s stomach gives an impressive grumble.

“I’m starving,” he complains. “Jen, what do you have to eat around here?”

“Mom left about twenty frozen pizzas,” Jensen says. “She doesn’t think I can feed myself without her help. Make one if you want.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Jared says, getting up and stretching before he goes to Jensen’s kitchen, opening the freezer. He makes short work of the pizza, unwrapping it from the box and sticking it on an ancient cookie tin before shoving everything in the oven. Timer set, he returns to the couch having only missed a couple minutes of the movie. He settles back in allowing his hand to brush Jensen’s after he sits down, and they’re quiet until the pizza’s ready

They eat in front of the television, forgoing plates for napkins, and sharing a two-liter between them, which may be kind of gross, but they don’t really care. Danneel starts checking her watch every two minutes by seven thirty, and Jared’s wondering what’s so important.

“Hot date?” Jensen asks her, balling his napkin up and tossing it absentmindedly into the little trash can next to the coffee table.

“Maybe, maybe not,” says Danneel airily. “I need to leave soon though.”

“Totally a date,” Jensen says. “I can tell. You’re so nervous.”

“Who with?” Jared asks.

Danneel blushes pink and starts shredding her napkin into little scraps of paper. “You don’t know him,” she says. “He goes to a Catholic school.”

“Looks like someone’s got a crush,” Jensen teases.

“Shut up,” she says, going redder still. “He works in the restaurant with me, and he’s really nice!”

“Did you hear that, Jared?” Jensen says. “He’s nice.”

“Hope he’s not too nice,” Jared says. “I don’t know if Danny’s ready to be a mom yet.”

“Shut up,” Danneel screeches, lobbing a throw pillow in their general direction. “It’s our first date. We’re just gonna go see a movie when he gets off work.”

“Are you gonna let him see more than that?” Jensen asks salaciously.

“I will kick you in the balls,” Danneel declares, holding her fist up. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Calm down,” Jensen says. “I’m already joking. You just haven’t gone on a date in forever. I was surprised.”

“I really like him,” she says, looking down in her lap. “But speaking of which, I’m not the only one in a dry spell here, Jensen. When’s the last time you took someone out, hmm? Don’t throw stones in a glass house.”

“Who says I haven’t been dating?” Jensen asks breezily, but Jared can hear the undercurrent of tension in his voice.

“Please,” Danneel scoffs. “Cindy Sampson’s been throwing herself at you since January, and she’s smoking, and you haven’t done anything about her.”

“Maybe I like someone else,” Jensen says softly, and Jared’s breath catches in his throat, because for the last seven months, all Jensen’s done whenever someone’s even alluded to the fact that Jensen might be in a relationship is deny, deny, deny.

“Oh?” Danneel says curiously. “Do tell, Jen! I can’t believe you’ve been keeping such juicy gossip from me. You’re such a bitch.” Jensen looks sideways at Jared, and Danneel groans.

“Don’t tell me that Jared knows and I don’t,” she says. “That’s totally not fair! You two weren’t even talking seven months ago, but now he knows things before I do? That hurts, Ackles. I thought we were closer than that.”

“Jared’s not a blabbermouth like you are,” Jensen says, and Jared can hear the hesitation in his voice.

“I would never!” she says. “You gotta tell me now. Who’s the lucky girl, huh?’

Jensen’s quiet for a long moment, and Danneel actually scoots to the very edge of the seat, looking at Jensen expectantly. Jared’s heart is going about a million miles per hour.

“Careful, Danny,” Jensen says, and his voice is trembling imperceptibly. “I don’t think Jared likes being called a girl. He might get angry.”

The silence is heavy and ringing, and Jared’s mouth is completely open in shock because this is the first time that Jensen’s ever acknowledged that they’re anything more than friends to someone who’s not explicitly Jared.

Danneel laughs then, quick and light. “Oh, c’mon,” she says. “Stop stalling. I won’t tell, I promise.”

“Um,” Jensen says, “not lying. Me and Jared--we’ve kinda been dating? For a while?”

Danneel looks between the two of them in quick succession, taking in Jared’s gob-smacked expression and Jensen’s stained cheeks before her mouth drops open in a pantomime of Jared’s previous shock.

“Bullshit,” she says. “Bullshit. You mean to tell me that you and Jared? Dating?”

“Yeah,” says Jensen quietly.

“How long?” Danny says, clearly completely taken off guard.

“Um, seven months?” Jared interjects when Jensen doesn’t say anything at first. “Give or take.”

“I cannot believe you two!” Danny says. “And you never told me? I hate you!” She leans over so she can smack Jared and then Jensen on the arm, hard. “You guys suck!”

“Sorry?” Jared offers.

“I shoulda known,” Danneel groans. “Don’t tell me this is why you two were fighting? You were upset about your love affair? Jesus, you two are so gay! I can’t believe I didn’t guess.”

“You’re not mad?” Jensen asks in a small voice.

“I’m furious!” she says but she’s smiling widely. “You can’t keep shit like this from me again, Ackles! What did you think I’d do, send you to get-straight camp? You’re such a loser! God, I shoulda known! You never stare at Cindy’s boobs like Mike does. I thought it was just because you were more polite than that! Didn’t think it was because you have a hard-on for dick.”

Jensen chokes on his own spit. “Danny!” he says. “Jesus!”

“Calm down, homo,” she says, still grinning. “God, does this make me the Grace to your Will and Jack? Please say yes.”

“If you want,” Jensen offers, even though it's clear he doesn't get the reference, and he gives Danneel a small smile in return. Something in Jared’s chest goes buoyant and he feels like he could float away.

Danneel’s clock starts beeping then, and she swears. “Jerk,” she accuses. “You did that on purpose because you knew I had to leave! You’re such a pussy, Ackles. Don’t think I’m not gonna grill you guys later.”

“Careful with your boyfriend,” Jared says. “You know, teenage pregnancy is one hundred percent preventable.”

“My foot, your balls,” says Danneel threateningly, standing up to leave. “I’m coming back tomorrow, and you’re going to tell me everything, understand?”

“Okay,” Jensen agrees, and he looks so relieved, Jared would think that he’d been preparing for World War III.

“I can let myself out,” she says. “You two behave. Don’t have too much crazy monkey sex. I want to be able to look you in the eyes tomorrow.” Jensen chokes on nothing again, and Danny leaves, laughing evilly all the way to the door. She’s barely left before Jared launches himself across the couch, catching Jensen’s lips in a kiss before pulling back.

“You didn’t need to do that,” he says, smiling.

“I know it bothers you,” Jensen explains. “I thought, maybe we could start small?”

“Best boyfriend ever,” Jared says, kissing Jensen again. They sit on the couch, making out until Jared’s neck is sore and his lips tingle. Jensen’s eyes are delightfully out of focus when Jared pulls apart gently, and Jared feels a tingle run down his spine.

“Bedroom?” Jensen says.

“Fuck yeah,” Jared gasps as Jensen kisses his neck. “What’re we waiting for?”

Jensen pulls Jared to his feet and they spend a couple of minutes kissing in the middle of Jensen’s living room before they get the presence of mind to start moving upstairs. It takes a couple of minutes before they even get into Jensen’s room because they keep stopping to kiss. Jared gooses Jensen’s ass and Jensen laughs breathlessly before pushing Jared down onto his bed.

Jared lies languidly, letting Jensen kiss him softly, gently, before tilting his head upwards to let Jensen have access to his neck. He trails his hands down Jensen’s back, worming them beneath his shirt to get at bare skin. Shivering when Jensen latches his mouth onto a particularly sensitive spot, Jared arches into Jensen’s space, fitting their hips together. He lets Jensen rock against him mindlessly for a couple of minutes, his dick hardening against the friction of Jensen’s pelvis.

“C’me here,” Jared says, pulling Jensen’s head up so they can kiss properly. Jared sucks on Jensen’s tongue, making little noises in the back of his throat.

“Off,” Jensen mutters, pulling at Jared’s shirt. Jared immediately sits up so Jensen can help him pull it over his head, and Jensen flings it somewhere over towards his desk as Jared begin to yank at Jensen’s clothes. Jensen immediately drops his mouth to Jared’s chest as soon as he’s divested of his shirt, and Jared starts making incoherent moans as Jensen lightly sucks on one of his nipples. He can feel his cock pressing against the zipper of his jeans, and he wants everything off so he can be skin-to-skin with Jensen.

Jensen is either really good at deciphering Jared’s sex noises or is as ready for things to get going as Jared is because he sits up enough to get access to Jared’s pants, popping the zipper and pulling it down. Jared lifts his hips so Jensen can pull the pants off, and Jensen yanks Jared’s boxers down with them. Jared finds it incredibly hot being naked when Jensen is still partially clothed, but he starts pulling on the waistband of Jensen’s jeans until he gets the picture and strips too. Jensen lets himself fall down on top of Jared again, kissing him.

Jared’s cock is hard and leaking, and he begins to thrust mindlessly into the cut of Jensen’s hip. Jensen makes a soft noise of approval, and he shifts up, squirming a hand down and moving until he can get a grip on both his cock and Jared’s.

“Yeah, so good,” Jared says as Jensen begins to pump his hand slowly up and down.

“Like that?” Jensen asks breathlessly.

“Like you,” Jared says, bucking up as Jensen squeezes lightly. Suddenly Jensen’s hand is gone and so is the rest of him, leaning over to the right so he can rummage in his nightstand. Jared understandably whines at the loss of contact, but he knows where this is going, and he squirms in anticipation.

“Gonna fuck me, Jen?” he asks, barely resisting the urge to fist his own cock to relieve some of the pressure.

Jensen’s back all of a sudden, and Jared hears the lube and condom drop from his hand onto the bed. Jensen kisses him slow and dirty, thrusting his tongue into Jared’s mouth, and Jared is ready. They haven’t been doing this--this whole actual sex thing-- for very long, and even though Jared’s always been on the bottom, it’s always been perfectly awesome.

“C’mon, Jen,” Jared gasps. “Not gonna last if you keep doing this. Get in me.”

“Um,” Jensen says, sitting up, and Jared practically growls.

“What? Let’s go.”

“Maybe you can do me today?” Jensen asks quietly. “I think--I think that’s a good idea, yeah?” Jared’s heart skips a beat, and he pulls himself onto his elbows.

“You sure?” he says, ignoring his body’s plea to get things going. “We don’t have to. I mean, I’m fine with how things have been.”

“I’m sure,” Jensen says, and he picks up the lube and presses it into Jared’s hands before flipping over onto his back.

“Okay,” says Jared uselessly, and he feels light and happy and perfect. Straddling Jensen’s thighs, he picks up the lube and awkwardly pops the cap, feeling it squish unpleasantly onto his fingers. He pulls at Jensen’s hips until Jensen moves into a workable position, and his cock throbs at the sight.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Jared says, cautiously circling one finger around Jensen’s hole. He’s never done this before, and he can’t decide if he’s incredibly nervous or extremely turned on. Pressing his finger in, he feels Jensen start to pull away before catching himself and taking a deep breath.

“Good?” Jared asks.

“Weird,” Jensen says. Jared presses further in, reveling in how strange it is. He finds the knot of nerves he’s looking for and presses it softly. Jensen hisses and his cock blurts precome onto his stomach. Jared spends a couple moments just stroking that spot, feeling Jensen fall apart under his hands. He pulls his finger out and lubes up again, pressing two in this time. Jensen makes another noise, part surprise and part pain, as Jared slowly begins to work him open, paying attention to Jensen’s prostate as he does so. Jared’s not entirely sure how to do this since he’s only ever had it done to him, but he figures he’s okay when Jensen’s fingernails stop digging half-moon crescents into his arm. Jared’s wrist is sore by the time he pulls his fingers out again.

It takes longer for Jensen to relax when Jared has three fingers inside of him, but eventually he starts shifting downwards, moving so he takes Jared’s fingers further inside on his own. Jared’s stomach clenches at the feeling of Jensen thrusting against his hand, and he almost spontaneously comes apart right then.

“I’m ready,” Jensen says. “Ready, c’mon.”

“Okay,” Jared grunts, pulling his fingers out. Jensen keens at the empty feeling, and Jared immediately rips open the condom and slides it on his dick, not able to resist from pumping his hand twice before pulling it away.

“You gotta let me know if something’s wrong,” Jared says. “Never done this before.”


“Okay,” Jensen say. “Please.” Jared presses in slowly, feeling Jensen around his cock like a vice. His hands scrabble at the sheets because Jesus Christ, this feels so good. He’s moving as slow as he can, and Jensen’s making these little oh noises beneath him, and Jared can’t immediately tell if they’re good or not.

After an agonizing amount of time, Jared bottoms out, his chest covered in a fine sheen of sweat. “Don’t move,” Jensen says, his eyes clenched shut.

“Okay,” Jared says, but it’s so hard, and he wants to move so badly. Every molecule of his body is singing for him to start thrusting but Jensen is as taught as a bow underneath him, so he forces himself to wait. Gradually Jensen relaxes, and Jared can tell that it still hurts.

“Move,” Jensen says finally, and Jared starts a faltering rhythm. It’s hard to get into at first because he doesn’t know what to do, but eventually Jensen starts moving with him, and it works, and oh, my God, Jared is actually fucking Jensen, and it’s too big for words.

“Gonna,” Jared says after a few short minutes, and he’d be embarrassed but there’s no way he can hold out any longer. Jensen makes a protesting sound and starts stripping his own cock, pulling at it. All Jared can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and the pornographic noises of their bodies slapping together, and he can’t help it. He arches his back and comes and comes, Jensen all around him and beneath him. He collapses and Jensen’s still hard against his belly, so he moves enough to get his hand between them and slickly pump Jensen until he’s crying out and coming, splattering semen onto Jared’s belly.

Out of breath, Jared slowly pulls out and disposes of the condom, flopping against Jensen.

“I love you,” he says, staring at the window.

“Only ‘cause I put out,” says Jensen, but Jared can hear the smile in his voice. Jared’s ready to pass out until he’s ready for round two, and he rolls onto his side and burrows into Jensen’s space.

“You good?” he asks, making sure that he hasn’t done anything monumentally wrong.

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “Yeah, I’m great.”

“Good,” Jared says, grinning into Jensen’s shoulder. He’s about to drift off when he hears Jensen speak again.

“Jared? I was maybe thinking we could start telling people about us? If that’s okay?”

Jared doesn’t think he’s been this happy since his sixth Christmas. “Yeah, Jensen,” he confirms. “That’s okay.” He flings an arm around Jensen’s middle, ignoring the mumbled complaints of cuddling freaks of nature, and allows himself to fall asleep, knowing that when he wakes up, Jensen’ll still be there.

END