An Exercise in Insanity: Part Two

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Jared’s numbly wondering if he maybe overreacted by the time Jensen pulls up, parks illegally and gets out of the car. He’s not fretting like Jared’s mother would, not feeling Jared’s forehead or going into hysterics--he just sits down on the curb next to Jared, not saying anything for a long time.

The silence is inviting, and after a couple of minutes, Jared can’t help but talk. “He said my mom didn’t want me. That she was going to get an abortion and he stopped her.”

“Who cares what your dad thinks?” Jensen says, very steadily, though Jared can see that his hand is clenched. “Your mom loves you and your dad’s a womanizing asshole.”

“He wasn’t lying though,” Jared says. “And I’m not just saying that --I know my mom. She’s flighty and irresponsible sometimes, and she hates being tied down. She would have thought about it. She would have gone through with it. She’s the only one who’s ever been there for me, and she didn’t even want me.”

“Jared,” Jensen says, almost sounding angry. “You’re here, you’re alive, and I’ve never met anyone whose mom loves him more. If you asked her, I bet you a million dollars she would say she wouldn’t trade you for anything. It doesn’t matter what she thought about doing eighteen years ago and ended up not doing. Don’t let one dick comment from your dad make you doubt her. She fucks up; she’s human, but she’s stuck by you.”

“Sometimes I wonder what she would have done if I hadn’t been born,” Jared says.

“Don’t do this,” Jensen says. “Don’t feel sorry for yourself. You’re not a magician. You can’t know what she would have done without you. If she had given you up, she could have gotten so depressed that she killed herself. Who cares about the might-have-beens? You’re alive, she’s damn happy, and your dad is married to some bitch who only cares about his money. You have so many people who love you, Jared. Don’t play this game.”

Jensen is the perfect choice, the one Jared needs even though he hadn’t been the first person Jared thought to call.. His stomach has settled, his knees feel less like jelly, and he’s beginning to feel stupid, like he’s blown everything out of proportion. He feels reckless; he can’t ignore this stupid, heady sensation roiling in his gut. So he doesn’t and instead says, “Thank you, Jensen,” and levers himself up a little so he can kiss Jensen, square on the mouth.

It’s not a chaste kiss, not meant as something quick. Jared thinks he’ll be rebuffed like the morning in the hotel, and that makes him desperate, hungry, and when Jensen hesitates, just for a second, Jared presses harder, curling a hand around the back of Jensen’s neck.

Jensen doesn’t pull away. He kisses back, several breathless seconds where Jared’s heart tries its damnedest to beat of his chest. Jensen’s hand falls to Jared’s arm, and it’s as if he’s been branded, the heat of it searing through his shirt.

All too soon, Jensen pulls away, looking shocked and upset. “Jared, we can’t.”

“I don’t care,” Jared says, lunging forward again. Their second kiss is equally good, and Jensen responds in the same way, responding to Jared’s desperation in kind.

“You’re seventeen,” Jensen says, pulling away again.

“It’s not illegal to kiss,” Jared counters, and they’re at it again, Jensen’s tongue slipping into Jared’s mouth for the briefest of seconds, causing sparks to fly up Jared’s spine.

“You’re my stepson,” Jensen says, separating again (and seriously, how does he keep doing that?). Jared almost can’t stand the lulls between kisses.

“You married my mother out of convenience,” Jared reminds him, and again, they’re together, kissing, fitting like they were molded for one another.

“We’re in public, and your dad could be driving around trying to find you,” Jensen says.

“Then take me home,” Jared says. He sounds wrecked, even to his own ears, and even though he didn’t mean for his statement to be innuendo, Jensen’s ears still go pink.

The ride home is quiet and anticipatory. Jared still doesn’t feel like himself, keeps giving Jensen defiant glances, but Jensen’s attention is steadfastly on the road. They go the speed limit the entire way home, as if Jensen’s afraid of something. But after they park in the garage, Jensen doesn’t move from his seat, and Jared follows suit. The way Jensen awkwardly uses the garage clicker to close the door behind them makes it a little more solemn and contained.

“This is wrong,” Jensen starts, and that causes Jared to laugh, just a little.

“This sounds like a conversation that belongs in Twilight,” Jared says. “What, do you want me to say, ‘That I don’t want to be right?’”

“You know what I’m saying,” Jensen says. “If your mother finds out...”

“It’s not like you two are exclusive,” Jared points out.

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it,” Jensen says. “You’re seventeen -- I’m thirty-five. We can’t do this.”

“You keep saying that,” Jared says, with something heavy settling in his chest. “But keep kissing me back.” Jensen’s so tense that he must be hurting. Jared wants to touch him badly, to relieve some of that stress, but he knows it’s a bad idea.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Jensen says. “Every time you push this, my excuses feel more and more like bullshit.”

“Then maybe that’s a sign,” Jared offers.

Jensen sighs. “This is so fucked up. If it was just you crushing on me--fine, I could take that. But me feeling the same way--I’m half a step away from being a pedophile.”

“I’m not a little kid,” Jared says. “Seventeen, remember? Eighteen in less than six months.”
“You’re just going to keep pushing this, aren’t you,” Jensen says. It’s not a question.

“I wouldn’t, if I knew that you didn’t want it too,” says Jared. “But it’s stupid--if we both want something, why aren’t we doing it?”

“So many reasons,” Jensen says.

“I’ll keep it a secret,” Jared offers. “I’m good at that. Mom hardly pays attention to anything anyway, and she always says I’m more grown up than I should be. I can keep quiet.”
“This is going to blow up in my face,” Jensen mutters.

“Not if we’re careful,” says Jared. “I can be careful.”

“Fuck it,” Jensen says, quietly, and then he’s twisting, grabbing Jared’s shirt and hauling him half over the middle console, kissing him so hard that Jared’s surprised his lip doesn’t split. It feels fantastic, coursing fire through his veins, but it’s over too soon.

“I’m not crossing the line with you,” Jensen says. “Not until you’re eighteen. Don’t push me on that.”

“I won’t,” says Jared, though he’s not sure he can keep the promise.

“I must be going crazy,” Jensen muses. “Let’s get inside. I feel stupid sitting in this car.”

The bubble of hope in Jared’s chest as he follows Jensen in is almost enough to outweigh his preoccupation with his father’s nasty revelation.

**

Things don’t really change.

Well, there are stolen kisses, taken in the hall or outside the kitchen, all initiated by Jared, because even though Jensen somewhat agreed to...this, he’s still skittish, still unwilling to make the first move. But he wants it; Jared can tell, and that’s why he keeps going in for it, kissing Jensen until Jensen makes a little growl in the back of his throat and pins Jared against the wall. Jensen’s a good kisser, borne from years of experience that make Jared’s stomach pang with jealousy. He knows just how to make Jared shiver, arch for more, susses out the spot on Jared’s neck that makes him practically collapse to the floor when bitten.

But he sticks to his guideline, always fastidious to keep their hips out of contact, even when he’s desperate and takes control. It’s frustrating -- Jared’s a teenager, stricken with inappropriate erections when he isn’t making out with his gorgeous (boyfriend? stepdad? what the fuck?) Jensen, but he doesn’t push. He’s smart enough to know that trying to coerce Jensen into anything besides the kissing is a bad idea, tantamount to causing Jensen to break the whole deal.

Jensen is above all things, a perfectly taught Texan male, because three weeks into their, well, their relationship, he takes Jared on a proper date. It takes Jared an embarrassingly long time to figure out what they’re doing, but in retrospect, it is pretty perfect.

“I’m bored,” Jensen announces, one rainy Saturday, looking out the window. “Let’s go see a movie.”

Jared, who has a killer physics test on Monday and a term paper to finish for Advanced English, doesn’t hesitate. “That sounds so much better than what I’m doing right now,” he says, smiling. So Jensen finds the showing times for some suitably gory horror flick at a theater forty minutes away (a strategic move to avoid prying eyes, obviously). Jared barely takes time to change his shirt, let alone get ready, casually sloppy next to Jensen, who’s always dressed nicer than the occasion calls for.

The movie has just enough blood and guts to keep them both cringing, and it’s about the time when the main girl’s friend shows her boobs that Jared realizes why he feels so on edge. Jensen keeps brushing his hand in the popcorn and letting it linger, his knee too close to Jared’s for comfort. The movie’s been out for a while, leading to a nearly empty theater, and they’re in the last row, and oh Jared’s an idiot.

He puts the armrest up, just to signal that he understands, cuddling a little closer into Jensen’s side until he feels a line of heat against his ribs. Jensen curls one hand around the back of Jared’s neck, and this must be what dates are meant for, because Jared never wants this warm weight in his stomach to disappear.

After, Jared takes him to an unassuming steakhouse and they make fun of the movie over baked potatoes, and share a humongous piece of apple pie while regaling each other with stories of their crazy neighbor. It’s domestic and perfect, and Jensen kisses him goodnight before they get home, just like any rom-com would prescribe.

And after that, they keep going on dates. Simple ones, far enough away so they won’t be caught out, not that Jensen isn’t perfectly gentlemanly as if not to arise suspicion. Jared is still baby-faced, after all, even though he’s almost legally an adult. His mom’s too busy to notice, not that she’d particularly care as long as she didn’t know about the kissing part, but Jared’s not as good an actor as he thinks he is; it’s only a month or so before Chad cottons on.

“Dude, what’s up with you?” Chad asks in trigonometry one day over their in-class worksheet. “You’ve been walking on clouds or some shit. If you have happy drugs that you aren’t sharing, I’m gonna shank you.”

“Chad,” Jared hisses, darting a glance at their teacher, who is, thankfully, preoccupied with helping some students figure out the answer to question three. “I do not need my locker to be drug-searched.”

“Whatever, like Mr. Stoner cares. His name is Stoner, Jared. He can’t judge.”

“He hates you, Chad. Don’t give him a reason to get you expelled,” says Jared.

“I’m not afraid of him,” Chad says, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. “But don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject. You’re totally getting some ass, aren’t you? And you haven’t even told me! Weak, man. I thought we were friends.”

“Chad,” Jared splutters, looking wildly around. No one seems to be paying attention, but that doesn’t mean the school’s gossip mill isn’t whirring. “I am not getting any. Jesus!”

“You totally are,” Chad counters. “You keep walking around with a goofy smile on your face, and I knew that you were hiding a hickey with your mom’s make-up last week. I’m the master at hiding hickeys; you can’t keep that shit from me.”

Jared blushes a little; Jensen had gotten a little out of hand last week by accident. Jared had even hidden the hickey from him so he didn’t freak out about the physical evidence. “You’re bullshitting,” Jared says. “Unlike you, I don’t wear make-up.”

“Some chicks find eyeliner sexy, asshole,” Chad says. “And I know when you’re lying, you bitch.”

“You do not,” says Jared. “You’re no Sherlock Holmes.”

“I know what it looks like when someone is batshit deep in love,” Chad defends. “My mama gets that look on her face about a month into every relationship she’s had. Before he starts drinking or dealing or going apeshit, that is.”

“Jesus, Chad, will you drop it?” Jared says, something fluttering in his stomach. “I’m not in love, promise.”

“Denial ain’t just a river in China,” Chad says.

“You are so dumb,” Jared laughs. “Like, monumentally.”

Chad responds with a lewd gesture that is, unfortunately, timed at exactly the wrong moment, landing him with a detention a la Mr. Stoner. Still, Chad has something, some kernel of truth, and that sticks with Jared for the rest of the day.

**

It’s maybe three weeks later when Jared’s conversation with Chad really grows into its weight. He’s sitting in their backyard, sky impossibly blue, with Jensen next to him, and when he looks over, he catches Jensen in the middle of a thought, judging by his expression. It’s wistful, sad almost, and it takes Jared aback.

“What’s wrong?” he asks cautiously. He’s afraid of another conversation about how what they’re doing shouldn’t continue.

“Nothing,” Jensen says. “It’s nothing.”

“Something’s bothering you,” Jared says. “You can tell me.”

Jensen makes a little exhale, a half-laugh. “You sound like a therapist.”
“Well, you’d know,” Jared quips, but his stomach sinks as Jensen frowns. “Wait--I was joking. Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Just wanted to let you know something,” Jensen says. “If you ever wanna walk away, you should. I’m not gonna be mad. I remember being seventeen.”

Jared swallows against the hard lump in his throat. “Do you want to walk away?” he asks.
“I would never have started this if I wasn’t sure about you, Jared,” says Jensen.

“The same thing goes for me too,” Jared says. “I mean, this is fucked up. I know it is. I just, I can’t help wanting it.”

“You won’t ever really be comfortable being out with me, with your friends. If your mom finds out--”

“When mom finds out,” Jared corrects softly, which startles Jensen. “If it gets to that point, if we both decide we’re completely serious, I have to tell her. I was gonna wait until I was eighteen, so it would be easier if she kicked me out...but I can’t hide it much longer than that.”

“It’s going to hurt her,” Jensen says miserably. “It’s gonna tear her apart, and I’m gonna be the one to tell her. I’m the adult.”

“Four months,” Jared reminds him.

“I’m telling her,” Jensen repeats.

“After my eighteenth, then,” Jared says. “If we’re still doing this by then.”

“If you still want to,” Jensen says. “Even if you don’t, I won’t keep playing your mom. We might not be exclusive, or really together like that, but I’m married to her. I already feel like scum for playing her for a fool.

“I know,” says Jared, very softly. “I just can’t see myself not wanting to do this with you, Jensen.”

“That’s the problem,” Jensen says. “Neither can I.”

“So we’ll leave it a little while longer, until we get our bearings,” Jared says, nursing the heavy weight of guilt in his stomach for proposing a plan that keeps his mom in the dark. “Until I’m eighteen.”

Jensen just inclines his head, and Jared scoots closer, linking his hand in Jensen’s and leaning against him, staring up at the sky. There, in that moment, Jared can tell why Chad thought that he was in love. Honestly, Jared doesn’t even know himself, but thinking about leaving Jensen, about exercising his right to be an indecisive, flighty teenager, is definitely not something Jared wants to consider. Jared might not be an expert in romantic love, but he knows the pain of loss, and just that hint of it is enough to make him hang on tighter to Jensen’s hand.

**

Jared starts counting down the days until July halfway through April, when things are really winding down at school. He feels like he should feel weird, more so that he already does with Jensen, and the way that he doesn’t is odd in its own way. Jared isn’t sad or nostalgic about high school ending; he’s excited. He doesn’t care that he can’t take his boyfriend to prom, because taking Jensen to prom means partying with Jensen and Chad, and that’s too much no for one room. He’s gotten his financial aid set up for college, he’s sent in his acceptance, and he’s ready to be an adult.

“You’re so calm,” Adrianne says to him one afternoon as she’s stressing about moving all the way to New York for college.

“I’m not going that far,” says Jared pragmatically. “And, I dunno. High school just wasn’t that great. I don’t think it’s anything to be sad about leaving.”

“You’re such a little adult,” she says. “I’m surprised you don’t wear a suit and hang out with the rest of the future business leaders.”

“I want to be a counselor,” Jared says, furrowing his brow. “I’d be a crappy accountant.”

Jensen loved that, when Jared told him, laughing about sweater vests over pink shirts. Jared likes that Jensen approves.

“Right, bad analogy,” Addy says, sighing. “I’ve seen you try to do math.”

“I’ve seen you try to write a story for English,” Jared counters.

“Touché,” Addy concedes. “Anyways, when am I going to meet this boyfriend of yours?”

Jared’s stomach flips. He’s not sure he’s ever going to be able to tell his friends about Jensen without their censure. “Have you been talking to Chad again?” he asks. “‘Cause he’s full of shit.”

“Honey,” she says, “it’s so obvious, I’m surprised more people aren’t asking.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Jared says. He’s sick of playing this game with Chad--persistent fucker--he doesn’t need Addy in on it as well.

“If you’re ashamed of him, or if he’s ashamed of you, you shouldn’t stay with him,” Addy says quietly. “You know I’m your friend no matter what, but I’m a little worried here.”

“I’m fine,” Jared says. “Don’t worry about me. This isn’t like Matt.”

“If you say so,” Addy says.

Later, while his mom is upstairs folding laundry and he’s on the couch with Jensen, Jared says, “I’m not ashamed of you.”

“That’s good to know,” Jensen says. “What brought this on?”

“My friend,” Jared says. “Somehow Adrianne and Chad have become relationship gurus or something, because they know I have a boyfriend.” It’s the first time Jared’s used the b-word around Jensen, and he’s half afraid that Jensen’s going to object, but he just smiles very slightly, casting a look behind him to make sure Jared’s mother isn’t lurking.

“They sound like good friends,” he says.

“I can’t wait to tell everyone,” Jared says. “But I’m dreading it at the same time. I don’t want people to judge us.”

Jensen chews on his lower lip. “It’s probably going to happen, Jared. But they’ll be judging me.”

“I’d be part of it,” Jared says, almost miserably. “I wish things were different. I wish I could be with you without all this stuff in the way.”

“Hey, enough with the depressing stuff,” Jensen says. “Things might be shitty for a while, but that’s what’s gonna happen if you want to do this.”

“I do,” Jared says immediately. Jensen smiles.

“There’s no point worrying about it,” Jensen says. “I won’t leave because I’m gonna get shit for this. At least, I won’t leave without you.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Jared says. “You’d better not.”

“Promise,” Jensen says, and Jared kisses him, hard and altogether too brief because his mom is upstairs and could come down at any time. He wants to tell Jensen he loves him, but isn’t sure he should yet. Instead he just smiles, settles in a little closer than is strictly necessary, and watches the movie that Jensen has on the TV.

**

The weeks slip by without happenstance, coming ever closer to Jared’s birthday, the shifting calendar bringing with it anticipation and dread. Jared graduates without fanfare; throws his cap with the rest of his class, goes to a party with Chad, kisses Jensen--nothing unusual. He’s ready for college, and he’s ready for Jensen to be his, in full measures without all the stipulations involved.

His actual birthday is quiet, nothing special. He goes out to dinner with Chad and Addy and some other friends, brings them home for cake as his mom fusses over him and keeps talking about how she can’t believe that her baby’s grown up. He gets some stuff for his dorm at college, and a bunch of gift cards from his mom, and all in all, it’s nothing spectacular. The real show comes two days afterwards.

Before he turned eighteen, he told Jensen he wanted to go all the way when it was time. Jensen argued, something dumb about sexual progression within relationships, but Jared didn’t want to hear it. He knows what he wants, and if (when) things go sour after they tell his mom, he wants to have this. He isn’t going to let Jensen walk away from him, not without a fight, but he has a feeling that things aren’t going to be good for a space of time after revealing their secret.

He needs it, and it is his birthday after all.

Jensen waits until two days after Jared turns eighteen, picks a night when Sherri has plans with her friends and tells her he’s taking Jared into the city for dinner and a show, and that they might stay overnight at his condo, the one he still owns, and lived in before he married Jared’s mom. She agrees without thinking, and that makes Jared’s stomach twist with guilt just a little bit.

They drive to the city hand-in-hand, Jensen coolly navigating his car through heavy traffic, and true to his word, he takes Jared to dinner (somewhere low-key with exceptionally good food) and they see some comedian at a local club. It’s a date, and Jared treats it as such--he knows that Jensen is wining and dining him before taking him home to bed, and this ignites a heavy glow in Jared’s chest.

Jared is nervous when they stumble into Jensen’s condo, while Jensen laughs over a story Jared’s just told about Chad. The anticipation has been building all night, and it’s reaching its breaking point, with them there, ready to finish what was started six months prior. Jensen sobers instantly when he turns to look at Jared, his face smoothing out. “Jared, we don’t have to do this,” he says. “We can start slow.”

“We’ve been doing slow this entire relationship,” Jared says. “I’m ready.” And he is--ready, that is, or he feels it, at least. He wants this with Jensen, wants this penultimate connection. He doesn’t need to follow the orthodox methods of sexual discovery, not when he’s in this kind of relationship, not when he trusts Jensen as implicitly as he does. Jensen looks like he’s going to protest, try to work Jared down from his decision, and Jared isn’t having any of it. So he kisses Jensen instead, quiet, soft, but with a promise.

Jensen acquiesces almost immediately, sliding his hand into Jared’s hair. Jared can feel his arousal growing, slow, steady warmth in his belly, intensifying as Jensen kisses him, slides his tongue against Jared’s. It seems as though Jared’s nerves are on fire, his scalp tingling with Jensen’s touch, and he arches into it wantonly, feeling less inhibited than he’s ever felt.

“I’ve been waiting too long for this to let you talk me out of it,” Jared says softly when they break apart, and Jensen groans and buries his face into the curve of Jared’s neck.

“C’mere,” Jensen says. “You’re dangerous, kid.” He tugs at Jared’s hips, his hands settling in the grooves there and making shivers go up Jared’s spine, and then he aligns them, closer than he’s ever allowed Jared to get before. Jared’s half-hard, has been almost all night, because he’s a teenager who’s about to have sex for the first time. To have just the pressure of Jensen against him is almost overwhelming, a shrill of pleasure. Jared wonders vaguely about what he looks like, if any of what’s happening inside his head is showing on his face, and as he’s trying to work everything out, Jensen leans down and kisses him again.

Jared’s content to be kissed like this, teasing, Jensen in charge, his hips held tightly against Jensen’s, but Jensen has other plans. It takes him a few tries to get free enough of Jared, but he manages, laughing as he grabs Jared’s arm and starts to lead him down the hall. “Trust me, this’ll be better on a bed.”

“Too far away,” Jared whines, and with a mock growl, Jensen scoops Jared up and flings him over his shoulder in a fireman carry. Jared squirms, pleading between laughter for Jensen to put him down, but Jensen only lets him go when they’re in the bedroom, and even then it’s only to toss Jared down on the bed. Jared bounces once or twice, still laughing, and then looks up at Jensen, hitching himself up on his elbows. Any amusement on Jensen’s face has been obliterated by something deeper, something that makes Jared’s cock throb.

In a calculated move that just makes him feel like an idiot, Jared licks his lips. “You comin’ down here?” he asks.

“Just enjoying the view, kid,” Jensen says.

“Can’t you enjoy it from down here?” Jared grumbles. He shimmies a little to get comfortable, only realizing that he’s exposed a bit of skin when Jensen’s eyes catch there. Jensen’s color is high in his cheeks, makes him look like he’s just been caught out, so Jared scoots a little more, rucking his shirt up further.

“You are a tease,” Jensen says, and he climbs onto the bed, his legs on either side of Jared’s hips.

“I’m just not very patient,” Jared says. He pushes himself up far enough to kiss Jensen, and then Jensen eases him down, crouched above him, horizontal with Jared for the first time. Jensen’s a very good kisser, winds Jared up with hardly any effort, and by the time Jensen’s settled more of his weight on Jared, Jared’s mind has gone a bit fuzzy and his erection’s gotten a little more persistent.

Jared whines as Jensen eases off, moving over to Jared’s right side. It’ll probably be more comfortable, easier for Jared to breathe without Jensen’s weight on him, but he misses the pressure. He immediately turns to face Jensen, pulling himself closer until they’re jammed together, knees knocking and hips aligned. Jensen starts stroking under Jared’s shirt, pushing it higher and higher until it’s tangled up under Jared’s armpits. Jensen breaks contact to pull it over Jared’s head and then drops his lips to the sensitive joint of Jared’s neck, kissing lightly until Jared’s seized with goosebumps.

Jared can’t talk--can’t find words. He wasn’t expecting this to be so overwhelming, but it is. He feels like Jensen is all there is , the only thing left for Jared to focus on. He’s aware of Jensen’s breath against his skin, Jensen’s forearms beneath his hands, the press of Jensen’s erection against his thigh, the press of his own erection against Jensen, and that’s it. When Jensen runs his tongue over the nub of Jared’s nipple, he arches into it, feeling like a live wire is running through his spine.

“Shh, I gotcha,” Jensen says, drawing Jared’s attention to the low-level whine that’s erupted from the pit of his stomach.

“Take your shirt off,” Jared pleads. “Please.” Jensen complies, contorting until he’s bare chested, and the slide of skin against skin is new and intoxicating. Jensen keeps mapping Jared’s chest, paying attention to the spots that make Jared gasp and writhe as he slowly makes his way down.

Jared can’t seem to concentrate. He keeps getting distracted by Jensen’s lips on his skin, can barely do more than trace patterns on Jensen’s back with his fingers. Jensen doesn’t seem to mind, now skimming the top of Jared’s jeans with his tongue, playing idly with the zipper that’s strained against Jared’s erection.

“I’m taking these off , okay?” Jensen asks, and Jared doesn’t answer until the moment stretches out, assuming that the question is rhetorical. He crunches up, just a little, just enough to see Jensen, who’s looking at Jared, waiting, and barely manages a nod. Jensen’s gentle, pulling down the zip, coaxing Jared’s hips up so he can strip Jared free of his pants and underwear.

Jensen sits back on his haunches after he lets Jared’s clothes fall to the floor, just looking, and Jared feels -sharply and suddenly - self-conscious. He lets his head fall to the left, burying his head as best he can in his shoulder without thinking about it. He can feel his body burn with a blush and knows that he’s probably pink all the way to his chest.

“Hey, don’t,” Jensen says, leaning forward so he can guide Jared’s head to look forward again. “You’re gorgeous, Jared. You’re driving me mad.”

“You don’t need to lie,” Jared says. “I’m a sure thing right about now.”

Jensen grabs Jared’s hand and brings it blindly to the bulge of his crotch, holding it there. The heft of it makes Jared’s stomach throb with another pang of need, want, now, and he gulps. “Not lying, kid,” Jensen says, and his pupils are blown wide. Jared pulls forward enough for a desperate kiss, but Jensen doesn’t let it last long.

“Let me do this,” he says, and then he’s trailing kisses, down Jared’s neck, further, pausing briefly at one nipple and then the other and then following the dip of Jared’s stomach. Jared can tell where this is going, and he’s practically shaking with anticipation.

The first time Jensen’s lips touch Jared’s cock-head, he jumps, his body involuntarily arcing at the sensation. Jensen lightly holds Jared’s hips down, slowly teasing at Jared’s dick. As it is, Jared can’t hold back the little moans that are drawn with every pass of Jensen’s mouth. And when Jensen stops sucking and move down to mouth at Jared’s balls, he has to shove his hand in his mouth to stop himself from making too much noise.

“Don’t do that,” Jensen says, pulling his head just a fraction of an inch away from Jared’s skin, enough to be considered torture. “I want to hear you.”

Jared lets his hand fall to the bed, but it’s like a habit; he keeps covering his mouth whenever he feels he’s getting too loud. Jensen is thorough to the point of almost being cruel, following the seam of Jared’s balls with his tongue, up the shaft of Jared’s dick, pausing to tease at the head, then back down again, pressing his finger against the space between Jared’s balls and his asshole.

Jensen stops, grips the base of Jared’s dick, and then moves onto uncharted territories. When his tongue circles the rim of Jared’s asshole, Jared nearly pushes Jensen off the bed.

“Jensen,” he says, utterly breathless. “What are you doing?”

“Let me,” Jensen says. “I promise it’ll be good.”

Since Jared has no self-control left, no excuses, he just nods and lies back down. Jensen’s good with his tongue, thorough, and having it inside, down there, is very nearly too much. When Jared’s moans degenerate into a high pitched whine, his cock so hard it aches, Jensen pulls away. He looks wrecked, as if his are muscles tight.

“Are you sure?” he asks, because Jensen is a saint.

“Please, Jensen, yes,” Jared says. “Please.”

Jensen nods, almost imperceptibly, and Jared feels a little guilty, pulling himself up. “Wait--I haven’t done anything for you.”

Jensen laughs, a low sound, “Believe me, you’re good. Let me do this.” He gently pushes Jared back down. “It’ll be easier if you get on your hands and knees.”

“I want to see you,” Jared protests, and Jensen hums. He reaches into his back pocket, pulls out a condom and lube, and sets them on the bed next to Jared’s hips. Shucking off his jeans and boxers, Jensen settles back a little, gloriously naked, giving Jared a show when he probably doesn’t mean to.

Jared’s expecting the intrusion of Jensen’s finger, has done enough reading up on gay sex to know how it works, and his stomach is knotted in nervous anticipation, but it’s nothing but weird at first. Jensen goes slow, his fingers slick, and he keeps dropping kisses wherever he can, little pinpoints of wet pressure. It stings a little once Jensen starts to open him up properly, but Jensen seems to know this; he maneuvers so he can suck the tip of Jared’s dick, providing him with a counterpoint of sensation.

By the time Jensen pulls his fingers out, Jared feels empty and ready. “I’ll be slow,” Jensen promises in response to Jared’s please, and he is, lining himself up and pushing in inch by inch, giving Jared’s body time to adjust.

It hurts; of course it does, but there’s a connection between them now, something that’s doing wonky things to Jared’s heartbeat. Jensen’s staring at him, fully seated inside of Jared and when he begins to move, Jared feels like he’s almost at a breaking point.

As Jensen sets up a slow rhythm, the pain slowly lessens into a dull ache, and when Jensen starts to jack Jared with just the right amount of pressure, it becomes so much better. Jensen kisses Jared until it’s too much, until they’re just sharing breath with their lips pressed together, and when Jared finally falls over, coming between them, his whole body shakes with it.

It doesn’t take Jensen much longer, and Jared’s glad he lasted because that means Jared can see his face without being hampered by his own orgasm. It’s powerful, and Jared tries to memorize every moment before he forgets.

Later, when they’re lying together, Jared tangled up in sheets, half on top of Jensen, he says, “I love you.” His heart is hammering, and Jensen cards his hand through Jared’s hair.

“I know,” Jensen says, pulling the Han Solo line, but Jared can tell from his voice that he means I love you, too

**

The next morning, Jared’s pleasantly sore and trying very hard to forget what he and Jensen agreed on, months before. Just the thought of telling his mother pierces this moment, but it’s impossible to ignore. He knows they have to get it over with, and he knows it’s happening soon.

Things have changed overnight, and it makes Jared’s head swim. He woke up with his head pillowed on Jensen’s shoulder, with Jensen just looking at him, and it was so wholly different from what he expected. He felt, his chest expanding with how fiercely he loves Jensen. It’s scary.

They stay at Jensen’s condo for as long as they can, eating a lazy breakfast, lounging over each other, watching something inane on Netflix, kissing, lingering touches, but they can’t stay forever. The car ride home is somber, quiet, with the weight of what they have to do over Jared’s head. Jared huddles over the center console, letting his fingers brush Jensen’s arm, but he has to pull away when they come up into the driveway. Jensen parks, and they both sit in the car as it cools down.

“I’m going to tell her on Friday,” Jensen says. “This Friday.”

“Two days,” Jared says. His stomach is in knots, like the time he’d had to give a speech in front of the entire student body at high school for a competition.

“I want to do it alone,” Jensen says. “At least the first part.”

“That’s not what we agreed,” Jared says. He wants to let Jensen do it, and stay out of the way until the damage is done, but he’s too embroiled in everything to let it go.

“You can eavesdrop,” Jensen says. “Butt in -- I know you won’t be able to help yourself. But I have to end a marriage, Jared, and I need to do that on my own terms.”

Jared runs that over in his head for a little while. “I guess,” he says in a small voice. “But I am going to stand right outside to listen.”

“I’ll probably need your help anyways,” Jensen says. “Jesus, this is going to be awful.”

After a few more minutes, they get out of the car. Jared’s mother is lazing on the couch, watching TV, and she cracks a smile at them. “Good night?” she asks.

Jared feels guilty as he shifts his feet and answers, “It was a lot of fun.”

“Your kid’s crazy,” Jensen says. “He should have a warning label.” His tone of voice is a little stilted, not quite natural, but Jared’s mother doesn’t seem to notice.

“Not my Jared,” she says. “He’s always been the little grown-up.”

“That’s me,” Jared says. “I’mma go upstairs--I’m tired.”

Jensen inclines his head a little and then sits down in his chair. True to his word, Jared goes to his room and collapses on his bed, but he doesn’t sleep. A countdown has starting ticking in his head, and it’s all he can do to not hyperventilate as he worries about it.

**

Jensen has his mom sitting at the table, and Jared’s lurking right outside the doorway, careful to not be seen while trying his best not to vomit. His heart is hammering so loudly, it’s almost all he can hear, and he vaguely wonders if he’s working himself into a panic attack.

Jensen’s voice is cool and controlled when he starts speaking, rehearsed. “We always said that there were two things that we could use for a divorce.”

“If we started to hate each other or if one of us fell in love with someone else,” Jared’s mom says. “I remember.” She doesn’t sound sad or scared, just matter-of-fact. Jared hopes her mood will last.

“Don’t worry, I don’t hate you,” says Jensen. His attempt at being flippant falls flat. “But I have done the second thing. It wasn’t intentional.”

“Oh, Jensen,” Jared’s mom says. “Oh, don’t be so sad! You always said you would never fall in love. I’m actually kind of happy that you were finally proven wrong.”

“You always did say it would happen,” Jensen admits.

“You’re just too cynical,” Jared’s mom says. “Are you gonna tell me about her? So I can let all the office girls know about the scarlet woman? Do I know her?”

“It’s a him, actually,” Jensen says quietly.

“Oh, a him!” Jared’s mom says. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“It just kinda happened,” says Jensen. The hard part is coming, Jared knows. He can scarcely swallow around the lump in his throat.

“Well, who is he?” Jared’s mom asks.

The silence is deafening. Jared can practically hear Jensen floundering through it, and when he can’t take any more, he steps into the kitchen.

“It’s me, mom,” he says. “Me and Jensen.”

His mom looks shell-shocked, and Jensen just looks resigned, his face a little gray. “What are you talking about, Jared?” she asks. “Have you been eavesdropping? This isn’t funny.”

“I wish I was joking,” Jared says.

“Jensen, c’mon,” Jared’s mom says. “Who is it really?”

Jensen swallows, once, twice, and Jared’s stomach aches. “It’s Jared,” he says, his voice very rough. “I’ve fallen in love with Jared.”

“I started it, Mom,” Jared interjects, feeling the inklings of panic in his chest.

“I let it go on,” Jensen says. “It’s not his fault.”

Jared’s mom keeps looking between them, turning a shade so pale that Jared thinks she’s about to faint. “Either you two stop this right now,” she says very shakily, “or explain to me why I’ve stepped into the Jerry Springer show.”

“I never meant for it to happen,” Jensen says. “Sheri, you have to believe me. It was an accident.”

“You break a glass by accident,” Jared’s mom says. “You crash a car by accident. You don’t start a relationship with my son by accident.”

“It was me,” Jared says. “Mom, I’ve had a crush on Jensen forever--I couldn’t help it. And it just--it went a little further than I meant it to one day, and Jensen didn’t push me away, and we couldn’t stop--”

“Don’t,” Jared’s mom says, very seriously. “Stop talking, Jared. I can’t hear this.”

“It’s not his fault,” Jensen repeats.

“I know,” Sheri says whirling. “I know it’s not his fault. I trusted you, Jensen. I married you. And you’ve done the worst thing I think you could have done. The worst thing.”

“I know,” Jensen says. “I know--I’m sorry.”

“Get out,” Jared’s mom says. “Get out now. Maybe if you’re lucky, I won’t call the police.”

“You can’t charge him with anything,” says Jared desperately. “He didn’t do anything to me. I’m eighteen.”

“Out,” Jared’s mom commands, pointing, effectively ignoring Jared. Jensen gives Jared one last look, nods at Jared’s mother with his lips pressed together so tightly they’re white, and disappears out the back door.

The silence is heavy, ringing for several minutes as Jared and his mother listen to the hum of Jensen’s car. They stand there, not looking, long after Jensen’s gone, and it’s Jared who speaks first.

“Don’t hate me,” he says, very quietly.

His mom whirls around at that, looking him straight in the eye. “Jared, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I seduced your husband, mom.” The words sound stupid, but they’re true enough to make Jared’s heart ache.

“He was the adult,” Jared’s mom says. She sounds like she’s about to cry. “He knows better.”

“I love him,” Jared says.

“You think you love him,” she counters. “He’s playing some sort of game, and he’s wrapped you in it.”

“This is Jensen you’re talking about,” Jared says. “Jensen. He’s not playing a game. He wouldn’t do that!”

“Jared, honey, you’re eighteen. You don’t understand. You think it’s love, but he’s so much older. He’s gotten bored of everything. And he’s going to want to get out and he leave you broken, hating what’s happened with your life.”

The words are like a slice across Jared’s jugular. “Are you...” he starts, tapering off when his throat gets too dry. “Are you talking about Jensen or are you talking about dad?”

Sheri jumps at that, looks at Jared with eyes that are too guilty. “Jared, no,” she says, but it sounds weak.

“Because I know you didn’t want me,” Jared says. “Dad told me. But I didn’t know I made you hate your life.” Jared’s eyes are stinging now, threatening to overflow.

“I didn’t say that,” Jared’s mom says, panicked now. “Jared, honey, I love you. Why would you think I didn’t?”

“You just said so!” says Jared.

“No, Jared, please--you’re misunderstanding.”

“Maybe you should have just gotten that abortion then,” Jared says.

“It was so much more complicated than that,” Sheri says. “Your father never should have told you anything. Jared, I fell in love with you the first time I heard your heart beat. I just was stupid before that.”

“But you just said you hated what happened with your life,” Jared says. He feels as though he is being overly-dramatic. He doesn’t care. “Maybe I should go too.”

“No, Jared, honey, stay--we can talk more--”

“I need to think,” Jared says. “Please. Just let me think.”

The silence that follows Jared out the door is more damning than what existed when Jensen left.

**

“Are you sure?” Jensen asks, speaking into Jared’s neck, a warm weight at his back. They’re in Jensen’s condo, fully dressed in bed, just talking. Jared doesn’t ever want to leave.

“I think she needs some time,” Jared says. “I think I do too. I’m only moving a month before I was planning anyways. There are plenty of long-term hotels by UT and I have some savings.”

Jensen doesn’t speak for a couple of minutes, softly stroking Jared’s belly in a comforting way. “I’m coming with you,” he says. “I’ll find a crappy apartment in the city somewhere.”

Jared can’t help but smile. “You don’t have to,” he says, but he wants Jensen to argue his words. Jensen doesn’t disappoint.

“C’mon, kid,” Jensen says. “I’m not letting you move to college alone. What kind of boyfriend would I be?” He says the b-word almost tentatively, and the sound of it in Jensen’s voice, talking about Jared, makes something explode warmly in Jared’s stomach.

“If you’re sure,” Jared says.

“We’ll do it right this time,” Jensen promises. “No more fooling around.”

**

Jared goes back home alone, packs up while his mom’s at work, puts everything in his car. He’s sitting at the kitchen table when she gets back, systematically shredding a paper towel, his duffel by his feet. She stops when she sees him, she looks awful and distraught. Jared feels so guilty that he’s almost nauseated.

“This isn’t goodbye forever,” he says when his mom makes no move to say anything. “I just think some time apart would be best.”

“Jared,” his mom says brokenly. “You don’t have to go.”

“I’ll be back,” Jared says. “I promise. But I’m sticking around with Jensen. And it’s not his fault I’m leaving. I have to do this for me. Even if things with Jensen end badly, I need to let them go my way. I need to make my own mistakes.”

“No,” Jared’s mom says. “No, Jared, I’m your mom. My job is to protect you. I can’t--”

“You’re gonna have to, mama,” Jared says. “Please, just trust me. You know I’m a good kid.”

“The best,” Jared’s mom says, very softly.

“Don’t go after Jensen,” Jared says. “For me. If he screws me over, you can do whatever you want. But he hasn’t hurt me yet. And I don’t think he will. Promise me.”

Jared’s mom closes her eyes, and when she opens them, they’re wet. “I promise. But only if you keep yourself safe. And call me every once in a while. I love you so much, Jared. You’re the best thing I’ve ever done.”

It doesn’t feel like compensation for her angry words the night before, however much the words sound like it. Jared gives her a small, weak smile. He feels like he’ll start crying if he stays any longer.

“I’ll see you around,” he says, standing up and hugging her. She holds on tight, too long, and Jared only backs away when he feels like he’ll break inside from it. He can feel her eyes on him as he leaves the house, his duffel over his shoulder.

Jensen’s outside, across the street and leaning on his truck and Jared smiles.

The Texas sun is warm on his face as he allows himself to look ahead.

THE END

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