FIC: Boy, You'll Be A Woman Soon
Finishing up my reel_spn like whoa, but in the meantime:
Title: Boy, You'll Be A Woman Soon
Authors: rosekay & memphis86
Pairings/Characters: Jared/Jensen, and implied Jared/Sandy, Jensen/OFCs
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,320
Disclaimer: NOTHING IS OURS, K?
Summary: Jensen feels pretty, Jared's a gigantic freak who needs to get a clue. Adapted from the Chick Like Me episode of Boy Meets World. Starring: Jared as Cory Matthews, Jensen as Shawn Hunter, Sandy as Topanga Lawrence, Chad as Eric Matthews, and Feeny as himself.
Notes/Warnings: From the Boy Meets World!J2 universe that has only just begun! Also, go tell sanyin how much she rocks for co-writing this and kicking it off!
When Jensen was still learning that his parents were fluid and silvery and hard to catch in the way they slithered around each other, away from him, he rescued a boy from a llama at the zoo, and won himself a puppy.
Jared talked a little (lot) more than most dogs, but that was basically the extent of the difference at first. He was chubbier and funny looking as a kid, still with that ridiculous hair though, and stupidly eager to please. He didn't make fun of Jensen's clothes or where he lived or the leather jacket he got later on. Just catered to his weirdo inner geriatric and followed Jensen's leave. He learned that Mr. Padalecki could be a little stern, but was a good, good man, who didn't say anything about letting Jensen into his house, other than a word about them Steelers and a pat on the back. He learned that Mrs. Padalecki had been disturbingly, smokingly hot back in the day, but that mentioning this was grounds for execution from the Padalecki men, and that she'd never purse her lips the way other parents had, afraid for their nice silver or their nice daughters when Jensen was around.
It isn't like he means it, no more now than he did back then when he was just picking up the game. Jensen's looked in a mirror, and knows how to use what he sees. It's easy, almost too easy, to let his smile do the work for him, not worrying about what he's actually saying, with Jared unknowingly playing the best wingman ever just by being goofy and ridiculous. He loves girls, the way they smell, how pliant they can be beneath his hands, awkward and soft and smooth, an enviable way of moving and talking, makeup and short dresses all there for him to admire and pick through.
Weird little Sandy blossoming into a seriously stacked babe seemingly overnight was a surprise, but she and Jared together came as naturally as breathing. Jensen's never found the energy to be jealous though, because it's always been Jensen and Jared, Jared and Jensen. Bad boy and the good one. Jensen a little slicker and Jared a little better. It feels like he's woken up every day of his life to disarming dimples and that stupid puppy laugh. He's never been uncomfortable, never felt weird.
Until now.
It might have a little something to do with the fact that he's tottering just a little on the heels that Sandy got from God knows where, or that he's flashing more leg in this stupid mini skirt than he ever has in his life, except for that one time with the beach and Jared and the angry dog. And people are staring, whispering and pointing. Some a little more subtle, others just blatantly. Jensen self-consciously brushes the soft hair of the wig aside, feeling it itch uncomfortably, his arms tight around his books. Jared's presence behind him is too big, too hot.
This is without question the dumbest frickin idea they've ever had. I'm a journalist, Jared whined. Shyeah. But it's not like Jensen's ever really been able to say no anyway.
"Why are they staring? What's going on?"
It comes out sounding stupid and nervous, and he's pressing his thighs together, head down, feeling weirder about himself than he ever did when his voice was charging through octaves and his head felt too big. Jensen's always been good looking, was never awkward like Jared's only just growing out of, but he's feeling pretty damn weird now, with his fake boobs and the stupid heels and the belt that's supposed to make his waist look neater.
One of the football players, Hartley, Harker, something, gives him a disturbing up and down that starts at his feet, moving slowly up to the top of the wig, while lingering uncomfortably several places in the middle. Jensen shrinks behind Jared a little in spite of himself. Stupid.
Jared comes around, a shield against the crowd, his shit eating grin firmly in place.
"Don't take this the wrong way, Jen, but you're," his eyes slide down too, and now Jensen's fighting a goddamn blush, "kind of a babe."
He should have just let the bastard fry in his own horrifically dressed fat.
*
"I feel," Jared sort of tossed his hair, which, somehow, against the laws of nature, made the whole get up even more terrifying. In the heels - hideous, sparkly and pink - Jensen was afraid he was going to crack his head on the ceiling. The dress did absolutely nothing to lessen the impact of those two broad shoulders, and even the rest of Jared's gangliness just gave the impression of a block of wood as opposed to curves. At least the hose hid the hair on his legs. Well, it did a lot of other things Jensen could never forgive too.
"Fat," said Jared decisively. "I feel fat." Then he looked down, a pink flush on his cheeks. Oh god, the sideburns.
Jensen looked away quickly before eye contact could be made, and he had to lie, lie, lie like a lying liar to preserve his best friend's fragile ego.
In desperation, Jared turned to Sandy, who looked like she might have been choking on something.
"Uh, maybe, maybe it's just not your...color, Jared?"
The kicked puppy look was out in full force now, and Jensen and Sandy exchanged a commiserating look. The thing was deadly. And they had years of exposure to develop partial immunity.
"OK," said Sandy soothingly. "Presentation!" The forced brightness in her voice made Jensen's teeth ache, but Jared seemed to be buying it. "It's all about how you present yourself. Come on, Jared, strut for us."
If there was one thing that Jared would always be comfortable with, it was strutting around in public. Jensen had been witness to it on more occasions than he was actually capable of counting, but that still didn't prepare him for what happened next.
By the time the horror show was over, Sandy looked like she might have had an aneurysm, and Jensen was still trying to erase the image of twitching, jerking limbs and hips that were not made to shake out of his head. It was difficult.
"Jared, come on, man," his was voice was admirably steady. He was awesome. He was stoic. He was the motherfucking ice man because he wasn't laughing in hysterics or in a mental ward. "You know that's not how girls do it."
Sandy quirked an eyebrow at him, suddenly sharp again, though the trauma still lingered in the back of her eyes. Jensen could feel that. For sure.
"And you do, Jen?"
He was blushing a little. He could feel it, from his collarbone to his face, one hot flush. It was humiliating. Jen was also Jared's thing, and Jared's alone. Sure Sandy was a good friend, but he prickled a little all the same.
"Sure I do. It's like, girls sort of glide along, Jared, not - " his brain was shorting out again, "whatever you were...doing."
He remembered Joanna's long legs moving smoothly beneath her, the way her hips rode on top like she was just floating on the floor. It was easy once he crossed the room, executed a little turn, and came back. Move, move, bam. Easy. Even Jared couldn't be blind enough not to pick up something.
Except Sandy and Jared were both giving him speculative looks that sent his hackles rising. Jared's was made even more frightening by the awful side part in his wig and the way his shoulders were threatening to burst the fabric of his dress. Jensen felt a chill crawl its way up his spine, as he backed away.
"Oh, oh no, no way."
*
So Jared has always known that Jensen is attractive. It's sort of a given, what with his man slut ways every weekend. Always the quiet ones. But attractive in a manly, wears that leather jacket well, and aftershave smells amazing kind of way. Jensen has always been infinitely cooler and more badass. He has lashes and lives in a trailer park. It's unbeatable.
Sandy attacked Jensen with a razor and a whole arsenal of makeup, and now Jared can't tear his eyes away from the glossy, stupid lips, and their stupid, perfect bow, or Jensen's eyes, which he uses so liberally on girls, now ringed with a little shadow to make them even bigger, thick lashes heavy with mascara. Jared still does have the nicer legs if he says so himself, but Jensen's aren't half bad, that cowboy strut even hidden a little by the criminally short skirt that's (barely) pasting itself over his ass.
Jared tears his eyes away back to Jensen's face, which blinks at him in a disturbingly pretty manner. It doesn't not help. Not even one little bit. He's even wearing a hint of Sandy's perfume, and Jared's hard wired to get turned on by that, mixed with the more familiar scent of sweat and still damp hair that hasn't dried itself under the wig. He's leaning closer without even meaning to, eyes trained on the tender back of Jensen's neck, carefully plucked of stray hairs, the way the belt really does give the illusion of a slender waist, hips, and the stupid cowboy swagger that's more like a model's confident come on now.
He's doomed. And oh look, there's Sandy right down the hall. Doomed and a half.
Jared shrugs his shoulders, steels himself, and does the only thing he can.
"Can I carry your books?"
*
It really shouldn't surprise Jared when the big dumb jock swoops in and pulls "her" aside. Sandy is supportive and encouraging, giving Jensen smiles and nods. All Jared can manage is a tight-lipped smirk and a stiff thumbs up. Watching the big lug lean over Jensen, backing him up against a locker. All that runs through his head is a strange fantasy involving an anvil and him carrying Jensen off while wearing a marine uniform like in An Officer and a Gentleman.
That's it, no more Richard Gere movie nights with Sandy. He doesn't care if he is the reason she started Buddhism.
"What do you think they're talking about?" Jared asks Sandy.
"I can't hear them if you're talking to me--Okay, shh, shh, he's coming over." Sandy says, "Don't say anything, let him talk first."
Jared doesn't hear her. "What'd he say?!"
"Umm…"
"Jared, maybe Veronica doesn't want to share-"
"Sandy! We're talking about my future Pulitzer here! 'Chick Like Me' is gonna-"
"Oh will you be a little sensitive?"
"I am sensitive! I watch Oprah!"
"Hey!" Jensen shouts, "Fred? Wilma? Y'done?"
Jared and Sandy mumble an apology.
"I, um, Ihaveadate."
Jared gets a little ball of pain in his throat, while Sandy clasps her hands together and does all but squeal like a 12 year old girl. He tightens his grip on Jensen's books. Jensen doesn't seem that excited to be going. Maybe he's finally feeling the major discomfort of the situation, the whole 'liking guys' part. Sandy and him finalize their plans to meet up before the date Friday, and she dashes off to math class. He kisses her on the cheek.
"Jen?" Jared asks, pulling him aside, arm slung over his shoulder. "You look kinda uncomfortable."
Jensen glares at him, "I'm. Wearing. Heels. How do you think I feel?!"
"Actually, I meant with the, the uh," Jared waves his other hand "-the date? It's not, uh, I mean I know you're from a kinda 'church-on-Sunday' family and-"
"Nono, it's not that. I don't care about that." Jared does a mental victory dance.
"It's just…I don't have anything to wear." Jensen pouts, his crimson lips pursing together and Jared just freaking loses it, doubling over with laughter.
"It's not funny!" Jensen smacks him in the chest with the back of his hand, like Sandy does to punctuate her sentences.
"Hey, if you can't laugh at the whole thing, Jen, then why bother?"
Jensen rolls his eyes, "Because my best friend is gonna win a Pulitzer some day, and I'm gonna-hey, did you just walk me to class?" Jensen stops outside of English 305, turns around and Jared just lets his arm stay there, almost pulling Jensen in, but jerkily takes it back. "You did! You totally just walked me to class with your arm around my shoulders!"
"Um, looks like it?"
"And you carried my books. Jared Padalecki, I think Sandy's gonna claw my eyes out. I mean, high school code says we're pretty much married by now."
"You and me, married? Y'know Sandy keeps saying that! Weird, huh? "
Jensen sighs and shakes his head, walking into Turner's classroom, "Yeah, Jay. Real weird."
*
The next day they all head over to Jared's after school to prepare for the big date. Jensen tries on outfits for what seems like hours. He walks out of the bathroom into Jared's room, walks back and forth down an imaginary catwalk. Sandy makes him do a turn, and they discuss the aesthetics of each skirt, shirt and sock. Jared's lying on his bed on his stomach, just watching the two of them, feeling oddly out of place.
Jensen decides on a simple dark-red crushed velvet dress, and black stockings that Sandy assured him were unnecessary. Jensen insists, though, on covering his legs since the dress falls just above his knees.
"Veronica," he explains, "Is a classy lady. She doesn't need to put it all out there. She's confident enough in herself that she doesn't need to show any boob."
Jared giggles at the word boob until Sandy smacks him.
"I'm just saying," Jensen says, leaning over the bathroom sink to dab on glittery lip gloss atop black cherry colored lips, "Sometimes it's sexier when you don't show it all. It's all about the tease." Jensen looks over his shoulder, "Right Jay?"
Jared is, at the time, very much preoccupied with the curve of Jensen's backside and the angles he makes while leaning, skirt of his dress falling against his thighs. And he just about manages a dreamy "Yeah…"
Once Jensen and Sandy are gone, Jared decides that it's now or never. He's locked his bedroom door, and pulled down all the shades. He breathes hard while he undresses, wondering how Jensen got so accustomed to it seemingly overnight. He really was going to look awful, and fat.
But he thinks about Jensen, and pastes on the big dumb smile for him. It's almost worth it when he walks downstairs and Chad's on the couch almost choking on his Cocoa Puffs at the sight of his little brother. "Get a job!" he yells at him as he races outside to grab his bike and takes off, laughing.
*
When "Veronica" and her date walk into Chubbies, all eyes are on the new girl. She's perfectly coiffed, demure, understated beauty.
And Jared? He's a freakshow. But hey, he rolls with it, the stares, the spit-takes the regulars give him. Always able to laugh at himself, make fun of Grandpa Louie's Brooklyn accent and make words like "dahling" and "touchas" sound cute. Sandy loves his impressions, but today she's not even looking at him in the eyes.
Probably shouldn't have made his breasts bigger than hers.
Dolled up in a classic, 80's sitcom style waitress get-up, complete with big poofy hair and gum to snap. The outfit is quite forgiving, (thank you, hand-me-downs from Nana Boo-Boo). He's got several pencils stuck in his ponytail, and way too much eyeshadow, (but he was scared of the mascara and needed to compensate!) He's figured out how to hide his gangly walk, but just being a character, larger than life. He wiggles back and forth, his butt and his chest sticking out thanks to the padding.
And when Jensen sees him sidle up to the table, with a warm smile on his face asking for his order in a raspy Jersey accent, Jensen's shoulders relax. His initial nervous tension melts away, and his mood visibly lifts. He's not doing this to make Sandy laugh and cringe, nor to do the whole "Chick Like Me"-bit. He's doing it for Jensen, so he's not the only one.
Jensen smiles and orders an extra-well done bacon double cheeseburger, leans back and just barely touches the guy's arm, slung casually over the side of the booth. The guy's hand snakes down and rests on Jensen's shoulder, and he pulls them together maybe just a fraction of an inch.
Jared breaks the tip of his pencil on the pad. He tosses it aside, pulls another one from his wig.
"Coming right up... honey." He grits out and storms towards the kitchen, not bothering to avoid Sandy holding up her camera-phone, tears of amusement pouring down her face.
Jared slams the order down on the counter and tries with all his might to make laser beams shoot out of his eyes and melt the jerk's face off. It doesn't work.
The date seems to be going fine, until that asshole rests his hand on Jensen's knee under the table, making him choke on his water. Just the look on Jensen's face-pained, embarrassed, uncomfortable, violated…
The entire staff of Chubbies has to pull "Betty" off of the poor guy.
*
"So... We're repressing this whole episode, right?" Jensen asks him the next day at his locker.
"Oh yeah, repress and deny," Jared answers, slamming his shut. "I've almost cracked the password on Sandy's myspace, the videos should be down soon."
"Good stuff. 'Cause no offense man, but you made a hideous chick."
Jared frowns.
"I'm just saying, you're one of those guys that only looks okay being a guy."
Jensen does make a prettier girl. Even now, he has the svelte body. He's not too short, not too tall. He's got the eyes, the long curly lashes, the plush mouth. Jared is tall and awkward and shaggy and his teeth are too big for his mouth sometimes. One time his little sister followed him around all day with a Mr. Potato Head Doll, mockingly.
"Yeah well, we can't all look like supermodels."
Jensen smiles, "You think I'm pretty?"
Jared sputters, "Um, er, uhhh."
Jensen laughs, "Oh c'mon! You thought I was a total babe as a girl! So how do I look as a guy? Am I a hottie, Jay-red?" He sing-songs.
"You're so full of it." Jared rolls his eyes. "And may I point out, I am no longer your book-bitch." Jared shoves the texts at Jensen's chest. "These fellas need to not live in my locker. I think they miss their home."
"Well I'll give you that, but I may point out that you are walking me to class?"
"Dude! We're in the same class! What if you're walking me to class, huh?"
"Fine!" Jensen says slinging his arm around Jared's shoulder, "Gimme your books. I wanna do this proper, reclaim my manhood and all." But Jared stops him and turns around and they're facing each other, noses almost touching. Jensen's arm is still around him, in a half-hug only he doesn't pull away. In fact, he puts the other arm around his other shoulder, and murmurs "Jay…" And Jared feels a flush of heat from somewhere run across his face. Plush, plush mouth like a pillow, soft and ply-
"Who put chickens in my office!?" Feeny comes bellowing down the hall.
*
In detention, Jared makes a point to scribble "Mrs. Veronica Padalecki" and little hearts all over Jensen's notebook. Jensen clutches it to his chest and sighs, and they laugh.
"Sandy really is gonna claw your eyes out, dude," Jared whispers.
Jensen shrugs and slides his desk closer so he can doodle stars and his name on Jared's binder in white-out pen.
Jared gets it, finally, when Jensen lets him rest his hand on his knee.
*
fin!
And if you're wondering how this came to be, check the comment drabbles betwixt sanyin and myself, here. (After you read it!)
Title: Boy, You'll Be A Woman Soon
Authors: rosekay & memphis86
Pairings/Characters: Jared/Jensen, and implied Jared/Sandy, Jensen/OFCs
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,320
Disclaimer: NOTHING IS OURS, K?
Summary: Jensen feels pretty, Jared's a gigantic freak who needs to get a clue. Adapted from the Chick Like Me episode of Boy Meets World. Starring: Jared as Cory Matthews, Jensen as Shawn Hunter, Sandy as Topanga Lawrence, Chad as Eric Matthews, and Feeny as himself.
Notes/Warnings: From the Boy Meets World!J2 universe that has only just begun! Also, go tell sanyin how much she rocks for co-writing this and kicking it off!
When Jensen was still learning that his parents were fluid and silvery and hard to catch in the way they slithered around each other, away from him, he rescued a boy from a llama at the zoo, and won himself a puppy.
Jared talked a little (lot) more than most dogs, but that was basically the extent of the difference at first. He was chubbier and funny looking as a kid, still with that ridiculous hair though, and stupidly eager to please. He didn't make fun of Jensen's clothes or where he lived or the leather jacket he got later on. Just catered to his weirdo inner geriatric and followed Jensen's leave. He learned that Mr. Padalecki could be a little stern, but was a good, good man, who didn't say anything about letting Jensen into his house, other than a word about them Steelers and a pat on the back. He learned that Mrs. Padalecki had been disturbingly, smokingly hot back in the day, but that mentioning this was grounds for execution from the Padalecki men, and that she'd never purse her lips the way other parents had, afraid for their nice silver or their nice daughters when Jensen was around.
It isn't like he means it, no more now than he did back then when he was just picking up the game. Jensen's looked in a mirror, and knows how to use what he sees. It's easy, almost too easy, to let his smile do the work for him, not worrying about what he's actually saying, with Jared unknowingly playing the best wingman ever just by being goofy and ridiculous. He loves girls, the way they smell, how pliant they can be beneath his hands, awkward and soft and smooth, an enviable way of moving and talking, makeup and short dresses all there for him to admire and pick through.
Weird little Sandy blossoming into a seriously stacked babe seemingly overnight was a surprise, but she and Jared together came as naturally as breathing. Jensen's never found the energy to be jealous though, because it's always been Jensen and Jared, Jared and Jensen. Bad boy and the good one. Jensen a little slicker and Jared a little better. It feels like he's woken up every day of his life to disarming dimples and that stupid puppy laugh. He's never been uncomfortable, never felt weird.
Until now.
It might have a little something to do with the fact that he's tottering just a little on the heels that Sandy got from God knows where, or that he's flashing more leg in this stupid mini skirt than he ever has in his life, except for that one time with the beach and Jared and the angry dog. And people are staring, whispering and pointing. Some a little more subtle, others just blatantly. Jensen self-consciously brushes the soft hair of the wig aside, feeling it itch uncomfortably, his arms tight around his books. Jared's presence behind him is too big, too hot.
This is without question the dumbest frickin idea they've ever had. I'm a journalist, Jared whined. Shyeah. But it's not like Jensen's ever really been able to say no anyway.
"Why are they staring? What's going on?"
It comes out sounding stupid and nervous, and he's pressing his thighs together, head down, feeling weirder about himself than he ever did when his voice was charging through octaves and his head felt too big. Jensen's always been good looking, was never awkward like Jared's only just growing out of, but he's feeling pretty damn weird now, with his fake boobs and the stupid heels and the belt that's supposed to make his waist look neater.
One of the football players, Hartley, Harker, something, gives him a disturbing up and down that starts at his feet, moving slowly up to the top of the wig, while lingering uncomfortably several places in the middle. Jensen shrinks behind Jared a little in spite of himself. Stupid.
Jared comes around, a shield against the crowd, his shit eating grin firmly in place.
"Don't take this the wrong way, Jen, but you're," his eyes slide down too, and now Jensen's fighting a goddamn blush, "kind of a babe."
He should have just let the bastard fry in his own horrifically dressed fat.
*
"I feel," Jared sort of tossed his hair, which, somehow, against the laws of nature, made the whole get up even more terrifying. In the heels - hideous, sparkly and pink - Jensen was afraid he was going to crack his head on the ceiling. The dress did absolutely nothing to lessen the impact of those two broad shoulders, and even the rest of Jared's gangliness just gave the impression of a block of wood as opposed to curves. At least the hose hid the hair on his legs. Well, it did a lot of other things Jensen could never forgive too.
"Fat," said Jared decisively. "I feel fat." Then he looked down, a pink flush on his cheeks. Oh god, the sideburns.
Jensen looked away quickly before eye contact could be made, and he had to lie, lie, lie like a lying liar to preserve his best friend's fragile ego.
In desperation, Jared turned to Sandy, who looked like she might have been choking on something.
"Uh, maybe, maybe it's just not your...color, Jared?"
The kicked puppy look was out in full force now, and Jensen and Sandy exchanged a commiserating look. The thing was deadly. And they had years of exposure to develop partial immunity.
"OK," said Sandy soothingly. "Presentation!" The forced brightness in her voice made Jensen's teeth ache, but Jared seemed to be buying it. "It's all about how you present yourself. Come on, Jared, strut for us."
If there was one thing that Jared would always be comfortable with, it was strutting around in public. Jensen had been witness to it on more occasions than he was actually capable of counting, but that still didn't prepare him for what happened next.
By the time the horror show was over, Sandy looked like she might have had an aneurysm, and Jensen was still trying to erase the image of twitching, jerking limbs and hips that were not made to shake out of his head. It was difficult.
"Jared, come on, man," his was voice was admirably steady. He was awesome. He was stoic. He was the motherfucking ice man because he wasn't laughing in hysterics or in a mental ward. "You know that's not how girls do it."
Sandy quirked an eyebrow at him, suddenly sharp again, though the trauma still lingered in the back of her eyes. Jensen could feel that. For sure.
"And you do, Jen?"
He was blushing a little. He could feel it, from his collarbone to his face, one hot flush. It was humiliating. Jen was also Jared's thing, and Jared's alone. Sure Sandy was a good friend, but he prickled a little all the same.
"Sure I do. It's like, girls sort of glide along, Jared, not - " his brain was shorting out again, "whatever you were...doing."
He remembered Joanna's long legs moving smoothly beneath her, the way her hips rode on top like she was just floating on the floor. It was easy once he crossed the room, executed a little turn, and came back. Move, move, bam. Easy. Even Jared couldn't be blind enough not to pick up something.
Except Sandy and Jared were both giving him speculative looks that sent his hackles rising. Jared's was made even more frightening by the awful side part in his wig and the way his shoulders were threatening to burst the fabric of his dress. Jensen felt a chill crawl its way up his spine, as he backed away.
"Oh, oh no, no way."
*
So Jared has always known that Jensen is attractive. It's sort of a given, what with his man slut ways every weekend. Always the quiet ones. But attractive in a manly, wears that leather jacket well, and aftershave smells amazing kind of way. Jensen has always been infinitely cooler and more badass. He has lashes and lives in a trailer park. It's unbeatable.
Sandy attacked Jensen with a razor and a whole arsenal of makeup, and now Jared can't tear his eyes away from the glossy, stupid lips, and their stupid, perfect bow, or Jensen's eyes, which he uses so liberally on girls, now ringed with a little shadow to make them even bigger, thick lashes heavy with mascara. Jared still does have the nicer legs if he says so himself, but Jensen's aren't half bad, that cowboy strut even hidden a little by the criminally short skirt that's (barely) pasting itself over his ass.
Jared tears his eyes away back to Jensen's face, which blinks at him in a disturbingly pretty manner. It doesn't not help. Not even one little bit. He's even wearing a hint of Sandy's perfume, and Jared's hard wired to get turned on by that, mixed with the more familiar scent of sweat and still damp hair that hasn't dried itself under the wig. He's leaning closer without even meaning to, eyes trained on the tender back of Jensen's neck, carefully plucked of stray hairs, the way the belt really does give the illusion of a slender waist, hips, and the stupid cowboy swagger that's more like a model's confident come on now.
He's doomed. And oh look, there's Sandy right down the hall. Doomed and a half.
Jared shrugs his shoulders, steels himself, and does the only thing he can.
"Can I carry your books?"
*
It really shouldn't surprise Jared when the big dumb jock swoops in and pulls "her" aside. Sandy is supportive and encouraging, giving Jensen smiles and nods. All Jared can manage is a tight-lipped smirk and a stiff thumbs up. Watching the big lug lean over Jensen, backing him up against a locker. All that runs through his head is a strange fantasy involving an anvil and him carrying Jensen off while wearing a marine uniform like in An Officer and a Gentleman.
That's it, no more Richard Gere movie nights with Sandy. He doesn't care if he is the reason she started Buddhism.
"What do you think they're talking about?" Jared asks Sandy.
"I can't hear them if you're talking to me--Okay, shh, shh, he's coming over." Sandy says, "Don't say anything, let him talk first."
Jared doesn't hear her. "What'd he say?!"
"Umm…"
"Jared, maybe Veronica doesn't want to share-"
"Sandy! We're talking about my future Pulitzer here! 'Chick Like Me' is gonna-"
"Oh will you be a little sensitive?"
"I am sensitive! I watch Oprah!"
"Hey!" Jensen shouts, "Fred? Wilma? Y'done?"
Jared and Sandy mumble an apology.
"I, um, Ihaveadate."
Jared gets a little ball of pain in his throat, while Sandy clasps her hands together and does all but squeal like a 12 year old girl. He tightens his grip on Jensen's books. Jensen doesn't seem that excited to be going. Maybe he's finally feeling the major discomfort of the situation, the whole 'liking guys' part. Sandy and him finalize their plans to meet up before the date Friday, and she dashes off to math class. He kisses her on the cheek.
"Jen?" Jared asks, pulling him aside, arm slung over his shoulder. "You look kinda uncomfortable."
Jensen glares at him, "I'm. Wearing. Heels. How do you think I feel?!"
"Actually, I meant with the, the uh," Jared waves his other hand "-the date? It's not, uh, I mean I know you're from a kinda 'church-on-Sunday' family and-"
"Nono, it's not that. I don't care about that." Jared does a mental victory dance.
"It's just…I don't have anything to wear." Jensen pouts, his crimson lips pursing together and Jared just freaking loses it, doubling over with laughter.
"It's not funny!" Jensen smacks him in the chest with the back of his hand, like Sandy does to punctuate her sentences.
"Hey, if you can't laugh at the whole thing, Jen, then why bother?"
Jensen rolls his eyes, "Because my best friend is gonna win a Pulitzer some day, and I'm gonna-hey, did you just walk me to class?" Jensen stops outside of English 305, turns around and Jared just lets his arm stay there, almost pulling Jensen in, but jerkily takes it back. "You did! You totally just walked me to class with your arm around my shoulders!"
"Um, looks like it?"
"And you carried my books. Jared Padalecki, I think Sandy's gonna claw my eyes out. I mean, high school code says we're pretty much married by now."
"You and me, married? Y'know Sandy keeps saying that! Weird, huh? "
Jensen sighs and shakes his head, walking into Turner's classroom, "Yeah, Jay. Real weird."
*
The next day they all head over to Jared's after school to prepare for the big date. Jensen tries on outfits for what seems like hours. He walks out of the bathroom into Jared's room, walks back and forth down an imaginary catwalk. Sandy makes him do a turn, and they discuss the aesthetics of each skirt, shirt and sock. Jared's lying on his bed on his stomach, just watching the two of them, feeling oddly out of place.
Jensen decides on a simple dark-red crushed velvet dress, and black stockings that Sandy assured him were unnecessary. Jensen insists, though, on covering his legs since the dress falls just above his knees.
"Veronica," he explains, "Is a classy lady. She doesn't need to put it all out there. She's confident enough in herself that she doesn't need to show any boob."
Jared giggles at the word boob until Sandy smacks him.
"I'm just saying," Jensen says, leaning over the bathroom sink to dab on glittery lip gloss atop black cherry colored lips, "Sometimes it's sexier when you don't show it all. It's all about the tease." Jensen looks over his shoulder, "Right Jay?"
Jared is, at the time, very much preoccupied with the curve of Jensen's backside and the angles he makes while leaning, skirt of his dress falling against his thighs. And he just about manages a dreamy "Yeah…"
Once Jensen and Sandy are gone, Jared decides that it's now or never. He's locked his bedroom door, and pulled down all the shades. He breathes hard while he undresses, wondering how Jensen got so accustomed to it seemingly overnight. He really was going to look awful, and fat.
But he thinks about Jensen, and pastes on the big dumb smile for him. It's almost worth it when he walks downstairs and Chad's on the couch almost choking on his Cocoa Puffs at the sight of his little brother. "Get a job!" he yells at him as he races outside to grab his bike and takes off, laughing.
*
When "Veronica" and her date walk into Chubbies, all eyes are on the new girl. She's perfectly coiffed, demure, understated beauty.
And Jared? He's a freakshow. But hey, he rolls with it, the stares, the spit-takes the regulars give him. Always able to laugh at himself, make fun of Grandpa Louie's Brooklyn accent and make words like "dahling" and "touchas" sound cute. Sandy loves his impressions, but today she's not even looking at him in the eyes.
Probably shouldn't have made his breasts bigger than hers.
Dolled up in a classic, 80's sitcom style waitress get-up, complete with big poofy hair and gum to snap. The outfit is quite forgiving, (thank you, hand-me-downs from Nana Boo-Boo). He's got several pencils stuck in his ponytail, and way too much eyeshadow, (but he was scared of the mascara and needed to compensate!) He's figured out how to hide his gangly walk, but just being a character, larger than life. He wiggles back and forth, his butt and his chest sticking out thanks to the padding.
And when Jensen sees him sidle up to the table, with a warm smile on his face asking for his order in a raspy Jersey accent, Jensen's shoulders relax. His initial nervous tension melts away, and his mood visibly lifts. He's not doing this to make Sandy laugh and cringe, nor to do the whole "Chick Like Me"-bit. He's doing it for Jensen, so he's not the only one.
Jensen smiles and orders an extra-well done bacon double cheeseburger, leans back and just barely touches the guy's arm, slung casually over the side of the booth. The guy's hand snakes down and rests on Jensen's shoulder, and he pulls them together maybe just a fraction of an inch.
Jared breaks the tip of his pencil on the pad. He tosses it aside, pulls another one from his wig.
"Coming right up... honey." He grits out and storms towards the kitchen, not bothering to avoid Sandy holding up her camera-phone, tears of amusement pouring down her face.
Jared slams the order down on the counter and tries with all his might to make laser beams shoot out of his eyes and melt the jerk's face off. It doesn't work.
The date seems to be going fine, until that asshole rests his hand on Jensen's knee under the table, making him choke on his water. Just the look on Jensen's face-pained, embarrassed, uncomfortable, violated…
The entire staff of Chubbies has to pull "Betty" off of the poor guy.
*
"So... We're repressing this whole episode, right?" Jensen asks him the next day at his locker.
"Oh yeah, repress and deny," Jared answers, slamming his shut. "I've almost cracked the password on Sandy's myspace, the videos should be down soon."
"Good stuff. 'Cause no offense man, but you made a hideous chick."
Jared frowns.
"I'm just saying, you're one of those guys that only looks okay being a guy."
Jensen does make a prettier girl. Even now, he has the svelte body. He's not too short, not too tall. He's got the eyes, the long curly lashes, the plush mouth. Jared is tall and awkward and shaggy and his teeth are too big for his mouth sometimes. One time his little sister followed him around all day with a Mr. Potato Head Doll, mockingly.
"Yeah well, we can't all look like supermodels."
Jensen smiles, "You think I'm pretty?"
Jared sputters, "Um, er, uhhh."
Jensen laughs, "Oh c'mon! You thought I was a total babe as a girl! So how do I look as a guy? Am I a hottie, Jay-red?" He sing-songs.
"You're so full of it." Jared rolls his eyes. "And may I point out, I am no longer your book-bitch." Jared shoves the texts at Jensen's chest. "These fellas need to not live in my locker. I think they miss their home."
"Well I'll give you that, but I may point out that you are walking me to class?"
"Dude! We're in the same class! What if you're walking me to class, huh?"
"Fine!" Jensen says slinging his arm around Jared's shoulder, "Gimme your books. I wanna do this proper, reclaim my manhood and all." But Jared stops him and turns around and they're facing each other, noses almost touching. Jensen's arm is still around him, in a half-hug only he doesn't pull away. In fact, he puts the other arm around his other shoulder, and murmurs "Jay…" And Jared feels a flush of heat from somewhere run across his face. Plush, plush mouth like a pillow, soft and ply-
"Who put chickens in my office!?" Feeny comes bellowing down the hall.
*
In detention, Jared makes a point to scribble "Mrs. Veronica Padalecki" and little hearts all over Jensen's notebook. Jensen clutches it to his chest and sighs, and they laugh.
"Sandy really is gonna claw your eyes out, dude," Jared whispers.
Jensen shrugs and slides his desk closer so he can doodle stars and his name on Jared's binder in white-out pen.
Jared gets it, finally, when Jensen lets him rest his hand on his knee.
*
fin!
And if you're wondering how this came to be, check the comment drabbles betwixt sanyin and myself, here. (After you read it!)