Love, Apparent 4/20
TITLE: Love Apparent 4/20
AUTHOR: lifelesslyndsey
PAIRING: Jared/Misha with briefly mentioned other pairings later
RATING: NC-17 for swearing, drug use, sexual situations, and underage drinking in various chapters.
BETA'D: malbryn
Jared is having a crisis. It might be a quarter-life crisis, or a freshman crisis, but he's pretty sure it's closer to a 'oh my god a man stuck his tongue in my mouth and I maybe didn't hate it' crisis. The worst part of it is that he doesn't have any one to talk to. He hasn't made any friends outside of Misha and... well. He doesn't feel comfortable talking to Misha about Mike. Misha has described himself as a pansexual. He doesn't see genders, just attraction. Would he even understand Jared's dilemma? Misha is so in control of his sexuality, so confident. Jared... is apparently not. He hates seeming like a child to Misha, not when Misha is just... No. No, he can't talk to Misha about this.
He tries to break it down to attraction, not because he thinks he's ominsexual or pansexual or whatever, but just because it would be easier. Alexis is pretty. She's got bright blue eyes, messy dark hair, and a pixie face. Jared knows that he likes her aesthetically but...
When they'd fooled around (he can't call it sex because... because it just couldn't be) Jared just remembers being kind of terrified they would get caught, and kind of embarrassed by how forward Alexis had been. She'd just... climbed right up on him (in the back of his mom's Volvo, of all things. His sister and her friends carpooled in there.) and... well. It was safe to say that the end results were... not what he expected. He hadn't even come, faking the orgasm just to get it over with (oh god, but what the fuck does this say about him?) The whole thing had been followed up by an unsurprising 'it's not you, it's me, let's be friends, we're different people and we want different things' break up conversation. Which Jared had actually started.
It's just that... okay, he knows that it was Gay Chicken. But at the time, all that registered was that there was a tongue in his mouth. So, in reality, he hadn't even registered that it was a male tongue. So really, it isn't gay that it turned him on. Yeah, Jared can't lie to himself any better then he can lie to anyone else.
He'd lost that round of Gay Chicken when he'd opened his eyes, saw Mike and then consequentially shoved him away in surprise. Unfortunately his surprise hadn't been at Mike, it had been the unmistakable flood of heat that had rushed southward when he realized it was Mike kissing him. Mike was a good looking guy, Jared figured. Shorter then Jared, but solid and... and firm, or something. It wasn't so much the idea of Mike that made him hard but... he didn't know. He couldn't explain it. He'd shoved Mike away, yeah, but mainly because well... he was kind of hard.
Much like he was kind of hard now, thinking about it. Yeah, Jared couldn't lie to himself at all.
“Jared, focus!”
And this was really not the time to be thinking about it, but for the last two weeks, Jared could be hard pressed to think about anything else. He opens his mouth to tell his English in Modern Education partner, Sandy McCoy, that he's sorry, and he's just a little distracted but what comes out of his mouth instead sounds a lot like, “I think I might be gay.”
What. The. Fuck.
He tenses up, waits for the horror that is sure to follow. Instead, all he finds is Sandy McCoy in his lap (what is with these girls, sheesh), a maniacal look of unadulterated glee on her face. “We should make out.”
“What?” Jared's mind stutters as he grabs her hips to keep her from bouncing around too much. It's making him dizzy (frighteningly, that's about all it's doing). “That's...the opposite of what I said, actually. What?”
She's unperturbed, and she's also taking off her shirt. Jesus Christ, he's not prepared for this. He'd seen Alexis's boobs (very small and non-threatening but Sandy... is not Alexis. “Well, you said you thought you might be gay. So, kiss me.”
“Do you have to be shirtless?”
“Jesus Christ, you really might be gay,” she huffs, but pointedly does not put her shirt back on. She's tiny in his lap, shins barely touching the bed, but she cups his face in both her hands and brings their mouths together without an ounce of shame or hesitance.
She's a good kisser. The right amount of tongue, not too wet, not too forceful. She's pulling on his hair, which yeah, turns out he kind of likes that. Her boobs are kind of distracting, an opinion she apparently does not agree with as she takes his hand and cups it over her bra. If it turns out he likes girls, he's 100% sure he does not like forward girls. He doesn’t' think he's much of a breast-man either. He’d smack Megan silly if she acted like this. The thought of his sister doing this is also a total mood killer.
But then Sandy is grinding into him, rolling her hips right up against his crotch. Dick, Misha's voice pops into his head. It's your dick, he says in Jared's head, not your crotch. Dick, dick, dick. Somehow, it could be the lack of oxygen, the images get mixed in his head, and suddenly he’s thinking Misha in his lap kissing him. Which seems less offensive then Alexis or Sandy, and maybe a lot more hot.
Jared's kind of screwed.
Okay fine whatever - fucked.
Jared is fucked.
“Well,” Sandy says, pulling back with a very flush-faced grin. “I don't think you’re gay.”
She nudges forward, another roll of her hips against his dick. His alarmingly hard dick.
It makes him panic because for the… oh, let's say the last thirty seconds (the seconds in which his dick decided to check in) he hadn't been thinking of Sandy. He cups her butt -ass- and lifts her up in a panic. “I don't think----”
And then there is a knock on the door, followed quickly by a Misha in the doorway. He looks like he was talking, mouth open, but silent. Gaping, is probably a good word here. “Ho'shit,” he breathes, clamping his eyes shut. For good measure, he slaps a hand over his eyes too, and backs out the door with a rushed apology, running into the door frame twice. “Sorry.”
The door clicks shut behind him, a loud sound in the quiet dorm. Sandy is on her phone and Jared is struck with a horrible thought. “Please don't tell people.”
Looking up from the screen, she gives him a sweet smile. It kind of contradicts the shirt on his floor, but whatever. She has a baby face, sweet and disarming, and yeah, it works. Jared feels a tiny bit calmer for it.
“I'm not,” she promises. “Anyway, don't worry about your semi-gay crisis. If you're not sure you're straight by the end of the week, then you'll know,” she says, popping off his lap. The comment makes him wary; it's said with the air of someone planning. She gets her shirt on, and pecks Jared on the cheek. “This was fun. If you end up straight, you should totally call me.”
“Uh... the project?”
“I think you need the day off,” she says with that same disarming smile. “I'm free Tuesday evening. That good?”
“I usually run in the afternoon,” he says, going through his mental schedule. “But yeah, I'll stop by after I shower.”
Her charming smile shifts into an almost feral grin. She gives him slow, sliding look-over. And yeah, realistically, he knows that he looks a little less lean, a little less lanky. Misha is a goddamn slave driver, and while he will firmly attest that Yoga is not his thing, he'll admit it's done wonders for his butt. Ass. Whatever.
“You do that,” she says at last.
Misha hates the world. Or maybe, it's just that the world hates Misha. He's not sure. Either way, something is terribly, terribly wrong.
It started out with Mike. Mike has yet to figure out how he earned Misha's ire, which is good because Misha is not one-hundred percent sure why either. Except for the part where he totally is. Oh, he knows why he can't look Mike in the face without getting super butt-hurt.
He knew he liked Jared. He just hadn't realized how much.
Misha might just be in love with Jared.
This is a problem.
Maybe it isn't love. How the hell would Misha know? He's pretty sure he's never been in love before. He's mostly sure he's never felt like this before; clammy, emotional and more or less spastic. What he does know for certain is that the very sudden, insidious, organ-boiling level of his raging jealousy is probably unhealthy. Bad for the chakra's, or whatever.
It had been one thing with Mike; he'd mostly gotten over it. Or at least, he'd been able to go back and look at the situation in a more analytical manner. The kiss hadn't even mattered, and yet he still rage-quit a friendship for a good two weeks. He really should apologize to Mike. It was just Mike being Mike. And Jared had been appropriately repulsed by it, as any straight man would be, but he hadn't flipped. He'd laughed it off and drank some more. Misha had been impressed. Even if it had upset Misha, the fact of the matter was he understood the context of the kiss.
He did not however, understand the context of Sandy McCoy, and her purpose in Jared's lap. Okay, okay, he's not an idiot. He's an increasingly educated college grad-student. He knows what she was doing in his lap; what he doesn't know is what the fuck she was doing in Jared's lap. He's never claimed to be the most logical of people.
Misha knows Jared is straight. He's known since he's known Jared. It was never an issue, just a part of the package that made up Jared. Jared was tall, Jared was eighteen, Jared was straight. It wasn't a problem up until the point Misha was forced to face it as a fact. It was no longer just a minute detail, but an undeniable truth. Jared likes girls. And hey, that's cool, Misha likes girls too.
But mostly, Misha just likes Jared.
It might have been okay if it had started and ended with Sandy. It would have sucked, but Misha is sure that if Jared were dating Sandy, he'd deal. He's great at dealing. And he likes Jared, wants Jared to be happy. If Sandy made Jared happy, Misha would be mostly happy too.
But Jared is not dating Sandy. Jared is not dating any one, as far as Misha can tell. That's mostly the problem. Misha is sure that if Jared were dating someone, about seventy-eight percent of his Jared problems would be non-existent.
But he is single, and apparently everyone knows it. Misha bases this deduction on the fact that girls keep kissing Jared. Randomly and at inopportune times. Like when Misha is talking to him, or when they're doing their laundry, trying to eat breakfast, drink coffee, or walk to class. The fact of the matter is that girls keep kissing Jared, and it's pissing Misha off.
It started out on a Wednesday. They were in on-campus laundry-op, down to their sweats as they jammed several machines full. They'd taken to mixing their white loads (and doesn't that sound dirty?) to save money. Jared was leaning against one of the folding tables, looking particularly sweaty and delicious in his loose sleep-pants and not exactly clean wife-beater.
Misha had been using that quiet moment to innocently take note of the changes in Jared since he'd met him. His shoulders were broader, soft muscles swelling gently beneath tan skin. His face had already lost some of its baby fat, jaw sharpening almost before Misha's eyes. His previously soft, flat stomach was now etched with the faint lines of freshly developing abs. All in all, Jared had changed, grown even, if only into his skin. He no longer absently hunched in on himself in a desperate attempt to make himself small and unseen. Misha was kind of proud of him and how far he'd come. The freshman-shell had only just been cracked, and Jared was already coming into himself.
“Hey,” a female voice interrupts his thoughts. He looks up to find it isn't him being spoken to, but Jared. “You're Jared Padalecki, right? Sandy's friend.”
Sandy. Misha's eyes narrow at the petite blonde. He remembers her: Katie Cassidy, freshman, undeclared Biology major, born July eighteenth, allergic to mushrooms---
“Uh yeah,” Jared replies, fidgeting instantly. He's nervous; girls make him nervous, that much is obvious. It's not promising. “Um, what can I do for you?” Jared asks, flashing his wonder-bread smile.
And then? Then the girl kisses him. Just hooks her claws into the front of his tank and yanks him down to her face. It's short but deep and... obviously wet. She releases him with a smirk, and a slutty little wink. She grabs her pink plastic hamper full of skanky underwear (probably, Misha didn't really look), and heads for the door. “See ya around, Jared.”
“Um...okay?” Jared says belatedly, dazedly. Once she's gone, he looks to Misha, clearly baffled, and not a little red in the face. “What the fuck was that?”
Misha's so utterly confused (and seething with jealousy) he doesn't even notice Jared said fuck until much, much later.
It keeps happening. Katie Cassidy becomes Kristen Bell, and Kristen Bell becomes Genevieve Cortese. She's not even a freshman. She's a junior feminist major, and she's scary. Misha was sure she was a lesbian, but... maybe not. Misha and Jared are talking in the line for the coffee cart when she sinks her fangs in him mid-sentence. She practically steps on Misha to get to Jared, and she's not quick about it either. She licks her way right into his mouth, and cops at least two feels. Jared is careful, (he's always so polite) and keeps his hands to himself during the ride. When she's done, she pinches Jared's ass and winks at Misha. He hates her. He really, really hates her. The coffee-guy has to clear his throat twice. Once to get Jared's attention, and once to get Misha's attention (he had been busy glaring at Gen's retreating body.)
By the end of the week, Jared isn't even blushing any more when it happens. He's brushing his teeth twice as much, and has made it a habit to chew a lot of gum (which he's lost three times during these kiss attacks). Now instead of gaping stupidly at the violators, Jared hugs them, laying on his Texas charm with a dimpled smile as he waves them off. It's lost its novelty apparently, not that the stupid trollops have gotten the message.
Misha's going to end up killing someone. Hopefully it's not any one important. At the moment though? He has bigger problems.
CHAPTER FIVE....
AUTHOR: lifelesslyndsey
PAIRING: Jared/Misha with briefly mentioned other pairings later
RATING: NC-17 for swearing, drug use, sexual situations, and underage drinking in various chapters.
BETA'D: malbryn
Jared is having a crisis. It might be a quarter-life crisis, or a freshman crisis, but he's pretty sure it's closer to a 'oh my god a man stuck his tongue in my mouth and I maybe didn't hate it' crisis. The worst part of it is that he doesn't have any one to talk to. He hasn't made any friends outside of Misha and... well. He doesn't feel comfortable talking to Misha about Mike. Misha has described himself as a pansexual. He doesn't see genders, just attraction. Would he even understand Jared's dilemma? Misha is so in control of his sexuality, so confident. Jared... is apparently not. He hates seeming like a child to Misha, not when Misha is just... No. No, he can't talk to Misha about this.
He tries to break it down to attraction, not because he thinks he's ominsexual or pansexual or whatever, but just because it would be easier. Alexis is pretty. She's got bright blue eyes, messy dark hair, and a pixie face. Jared knows that he likes her aesthetically but...
When they'd fooled around (he can't call it sex because... because it just couldn't be) Jared just remembers being kind of terrified they would get caught, and kind of embarrassed by how forward Alexis had been. She'd just... climbed right up on him (in the back of his mom's Volvo, of all things. His sister and her friends carpooled in there.) and... well. It was safe to say that the end results were... not what he expected. He hadn't even come, faking the orgasm just to get it over with (oh god, but what the fuck does this say about him?) The whole thing had been followed up by an unsurprising 'it's not you, it's me, let's be friends, we're different people and we want different things' break up conversation. Which Jared had actually started.
It's just that... okay, he knows that it was Gay Chicken. But at the time, all that registered was that there was a tongue in his mouth. So, in reality, he hadn't even registered that it was a male tongue. So really, it isn't gay that it turned him on. Yeah, Jared can't lie to himself any better then he can lie to anyone else.
He'd lost that round of Gay Chicken when he'd opened his eyes, saw Mike and then consequentially shoved him away in surprise. Unfortunately his surprise hadn't been at Mike, it had been the unmistakable flood of heat that had rushed southward when he realized it was Mike kissing him. Mike was a good looking guy, Jared figured. Shorter then Jared, but solid and... and firm, or something. It wasn't so much the idea of Mike that made him hard but... he didn't know. He couldn't explain it. He'd shoved Mike away, yeah, but mainly because well... he was kind of hard.
Much like he was kind of hard now, thinking about it. Yeah, Jared couldn't lie to himself at all.
“Jared, focus!”
And this was really not the time to be thinking about it, but for the last two weeks, Jared could be hard pressed to think about anything else. He opens his mouth to tell his English in Modern Education partner, Sandy McCoy, that he's sorry, and he's just a little distracted but what comes out of his mouth instead sounds a lot like, “I think I might be gay.”
What. The. Fuck.
He tenses up, waits for the horror that is sure to follow. Instead, all he finds is Sandy McCoy in his lap (what is with these girls, sheesh), a maniacal look of unadulterated glee on her face. “We should make out.”
“What?” Jared's mind stutters as he grabs her hips to keep her from bouncing around too much. It's making him dizzy (frighteningly, that's about all it's doing). “That's...the opposite of what I said, actually. What?”
She's unperturbed, and she's also taking off her shirt. Jesus Christ, he's not prepared for this. He'd seen Alexis's boobs (very small and non-threatening but Sandy... is not Alexis. “Well, you said you thought you might be gay. So, kiss me.”
“Do you have to be shirtless?”
“Jesus Christ, you really might be gay,” she huffs, but pointedly does not put her shirt back on. She's tiny in his lap, shins barely touching the bed, but she cups his face in both her hands and brings their mouths together without an ounce of shame or hesitance.
She's a good kisser. The right amount of tongue, not too wet, not too forceful. She's pulling on his hair, which yeah, turns out he kind of likes that. Her boobs are kind of distracting, an opinion she apparently does not agree with as she takes his hand and cups it over her bra. If it turns out he likes girls, he's 100% sure he does not like forward girls. He doesn’t' think he's much of a breast-man either. He’d smack Megan silly if she acted like this. The thought of his sister doing this is also a total mood killer.
But then Sandy is grinding into him, rolling her hips right up against his crotch. Dick, Misha's voice pops into his head. It's your dick, he says in Jared's head, not your crotch. Dick, dick, dick. Somehow, it could be the lack of oxygen, the images get mixed in his head, and suddenly he’s thinking Misha in his lap kissing him. Which seems less offensive then Alexis or Sandy, and maybe a lot more hot.
Jared's kind of screwed.
Okay fine whatever - fucked.
Jared is fucked.
“Well,” Sandy says, pulling back with a very flush-faced grin. “I don't think you’re gay.”
She nudges forward, another roll of her hips against his dick. His alarmingly hard dick.
It makes him panic because for the… oh, let's say the last thirty seconds (the seconds in which his dick decided to check in) he hadn't been thinking of Sandy. He cups her butt -ass- and lifts her up in a panic. “I don't think----”
And then there is a knock on the door, followed quickly by a Misha in the doorway. He looks like he was talking, mouth open, but silent. Gaping, is probably a good word here. “Ho'shit,” he breathes, clamping his eyes shut. For good measure, he slaps a hand over his eyes too, and backs out the door with a rushed apology, running into the door frame twice. “Sorry.”
The door clicks shut behind him, a loud sound in the quiet dorm. Sandy is on her phone and Jared is struck with a horrible thought. “Please don't tell people.”
Looking up from the screen, she gives him a sweet smile. It kind of contradicts the shirt on his floor, but whatever. She has a baby face, sweet and disarming, and yeah, it works. Jared feels a tiny bit calmer for it.
“I'm not,” she promises. “Anyway, don't worry about your semi-gay crisis. If you're not sure you're straight by the end of the week, then you'll know,” she says, popping off his lap. The comment makes him wary; it's said with the air of someone planning. She gets her shirt on, and pecks Jared on the cheek. “This was fun. If you end up straight, you should totally call me.”
“Uh... the project?”
“I think you need the day off,” she says with that same disarming smile. “I'm free Tuesday evening. That good?”
“I usually run in the afternoon,” he says, going through his mental schedule. “But yeah, I'll stop by after I shower.”
Her charming smile shifts into an almost feral grin. She gives him slow, sliding look-over. And yeah, realistically, he knows that he looks a little less lean, a little less lanky. Misha is a goddamn slave driver, and while he will firmly attest that Yoga is not his thing, he'll admit it's done wonders for his butt. Ass. Whatever.
“You do that,” she says at last.
Misha hates the world. Or maybe, it's just that the world hates Misha. He's not sure. Either way, something is terribly, terribly wrong.
It started out with Mike. Mike has yet to figure out how he earned Misha's ire, which is good because Misha is not one-hundred percent sure why either. Except for the part where he totally is. Oh, he knows why he can't look Mike in the face without getting super butt-hurt.
He knew he liked Jared. He just hadn't realized how much.
Misha might just be in love with Jared.
This is a problem.
Maybe it isn't love. How the hell would Misha know? He's pretty sure he's never been in love before. He's mostly sure he's never felt like this before; clammy, emotional and more or less spastic. What he does know for certain is that the very sudden, insidious, organ-boiling level of his raging jealousy is probably unhealthy. Bad for the chakra's, or whatever.
It had been one thing with Mike; he'd mostly gotten over it. Or at least, he'd been able to go back and look at the situation in a more analytical manner. The kiss hadn't even mattered, and yet he still rage-quit a friendship for a good two weeks. He really should apologize to Mike. It was just Mike being Mike. And Jared had been appropriately repulsed by it, as any straight man would be, but he hadn't flipped. He'd laughed it off and drank some more. Misha had been impressed. Even if it had upset Misha, the fact of the matter was he understood the context of the kiss.
He did not however, understand the context of Sandy McCoy, and her purpose in Jared's lap. Okay, okay, he's not an idiot. He's an increasingly educated college grad-student. He knows what she was doing in his lap; what he doesn't know is what the fuck she was doing in Jared's lap. He's never claimed to be the most logical of people.
Misha knows Jared is straight. He's known since he's known Jared. It was never an issue, just a part of the package that made up Jared. Jared was tall, Jared was eighteen, Jared was straight. It wasn't a problem up until the point Misha was forced to face it as a fact. It was no longer just a minute detail, but an undeniable truth. Jared likes girls. And hey, that's cool, Misha likes girls too.
But mostly, Misha just likes Jared.
It might have been okay if it had started and ended with Sandy. It would have sucked, but Misha is sure that if Jared were dating Sandy, he'd deal. He's great at dealing. And he likes Jared, wants Jared to be happy. If Sandy made Jared happy, Misha would be mostly happy too.
But Jared is not dating Sandy. Jared is not dating any one, as far as Misha can tell. That's mostly the problem. Misha is sure that if Jared were dating someone, about seventy-eight percent of his Jared problems would be non-existent.
But he is single, and apparently everyone knows it. Misha bases this deduction on the fact that girls keep kissing Jared. Randomly and at inopportune times. Like when Misha is talking to him, or when they're doing their laundry, trying to eat breakfast, drink coffee, or walk to class. The fact of the matter is that girls keep kissing Jared, and it's pissing Misha off.
It started out on a Wednesday. They were in on-campus laundry-op, down to their sweats as they jammed several machines full. They'd taken to mixing their white loads (and doesn't that sound dirty?) to save money. Jared was leaning against one of the folding tables, looking particularly sweaty and delicious in his loose sleep-pants and not exactly clean wife-beater.
Misha had been using that quiet moment to innocently take note of the changes in Jared since he'd met him. His shoulders were broader, soft muscles swelling gently beneath tan skin. His face had already lost some of its baby fat, jaw sharpening almost before Misha's eyes. His previously soft, flat stomach was now etched with the faint lines of freshly developing abs. All in all, Jared had changed, grown even, if only into his skin. He no longer absently hunched in on himself in a desperate attempt to make himself small and unseen. Misha was kind of proud of him and how far he'd come. The freshman-shell had only just been cracked, and Jared was already coming into himself.
“Hey,” a female voice interrupts his thoughts. He looks up to find it isn't him being spoken to, but Jared. “You're Jared Padalecki, right? Sandy's friend.”
Sandy. Misha's eyes narrow at the petite blonde. He remembers her: Katie Cassidy, freshman, undeclared Biology major, born July eighteenth, allergic to mushrooms---
“Uh yeah,” Jared replies, fidgeting instantly. He's nervous; girls make him nervous, that much is obvious. It's not promising. “Um, what can I do for you?” Jared asks, flashing his wonder-bread smile.
And then? Then the girl kisses him. Just hooks her claws into the front of his tank and yanks him down to her face. It's short but deep and... obviously wet. She releases him with a smirk, and a slutty little wink. She grabs her pink plastic hamper full of skanky underwear (probably, Misha didn't really look), and heads for the door. “See ya around, Jared.”
“Um...okay?” Jared says belatedly, dazedly. Once she's gone, he looks to Misha, clearly baffled, and not a little red in the face. “What the fuck was that?”
Misha's so utterly confused (and seething with jealousy) he doesn't even notice Jared said fuck until much, much later.
It keeps happening. Katie Cassidy becomes Kristen Bell, and Kristen Bell becomes Genevieve Cortese. She's not even a freshman. She's a junior feminist major, and she's scary. Misha was sure she was a lesbian, but... maybe not. Misha and Jared are talking in the line for the coffee cart when she sinks her fangs in him mid-sentence. She practically steps on Misha to get to Jared, and she's not quick about it either. She licks her way right into his mouth, and cops at least two feels. Jared is careful, (he's always so polite) and keeps his hands to himself during the ride. When she's done, she pinches Jared's ass and winks at Misha. He hates her. He really, really hates her. The coffee-guy has to clear his throat twice. Once to get Jared's attention, and once to get Misha's attention (he had been busy glaring at Gen's retreating body.)
By the end of the week, Jared isn't even blushing any more when it happens. He's brushing his teeth twice as much, and has made it a habit to chew a lot of gum (which he's lost three times during these kiss attacks). Now instead of gaping stupidly at the violators, Jared hugs them, laying on his Texas charm with a dimpled smile as he waves them off. It's lost its novelty apparently, not that the stupid trollops have gotten the message.
Misha's going to end up killing someone. Hopefully it's not any one important. At the moment though? He has bigger problems.
CHAPTER FIVE....