Epiphany: Chad
Title: Epiphany: Chad Michael Murray
Genre: J2 RPS, Non-AU
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: about 5K
Warnings: Language. Outsider POV. Schmoop on the sidelines, courtesy of J2. Voyeurism (and wanking, which sometimes go hand in hand, or hand on dick, as the case may be.) Miss Piggy and Kermit The Frog. No, really. (Okay, okay, not really.) This fic is an interlude for The Courtship of Jensen’s Co-Star, and it would help if you’ve read that first, but then again, that was a non-AU story, so I’m sure you can fill in the blanks even if you haven’t read it. Each part of the Epiphany series stands alone.
Summary: Once upon a time, Chad Michael Murray had an Epiphany - one of many, but this shit? Was Epic. And it went a little something like this.
For Chad Michael Murray, it started with porn.
Well, most things with Chad began (and ended) with sex, so it was hardly surprising that it was porn that got the ball rolling (while he rolled his balls, heh), but that wasn’t important right now. Well, okay, beating off to porn was always important to Chad, but that wasn’t the point he was trying to make. No. See, it all started with Chad watching porn on his couch, his body sunk deep into plush cushions, laptop whirring away as the movie streamed in front of his half-lidded gaze. He had his dick in his hand, lazily stroking and petting it as he watched with avid interest as the two dudes on the screen got each other off.
Whoa.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Take it easy, back it up, rein it in.
Not that he was watching gay porn or nothing. No way, Jose. Chad was strictly a Josephina kind of guy. He just occasionally enjoyed the deal where some chick’s pretty pussy got stuffed full of double the dicks, if you will, because fuck, that was hot. He pumped his cock a little faster and told himself that his more adventurous porn choices just broadened his sexual horizons. Hey, Chad was the kind of guy who talked the talk, so it behooved him to walk the walk.
Yeah, behooved, bitches.
Goddamn but he loved that little desk calendar teaching him a new big word every day; it always felt good to keep people guessing. Like he was some sort of literary ninja, and those words were his ninja stars, especially since he’d hooked up with Oprah’s Book Club.
What? He liked to read, okay? He may have been a quintessential jock growing up, but no way was he dumb. One thing Chad Michael Murray was not was cliché.
But he digressed.
When the guys on the screen started focusing on each other, the girl watching as she fingered herself, Chad mentally checked out, but something about that scene had him cocking his head to one side in scrutiny. Something about those two dudes niggled and poked and prodded at his mind, and no, it wasn’t because they were poking and prodding at each other.
‘Course, that’s when it hit him, mid-stroke, making his cock choke on its orgasm, depriving him of that delectable, dynamic high, everything he’d spent the last fifteen minutes building up to, slow and sweet, just the way he liked it when he was flying solo. Now, the images in his head - and Chad had always had an overactive, creative, graphic imagination - caused his erection to wane a little.
It still took a minute for two and two to add up to four, though.
That one dude in the shot, the tall, lanky one, with a long mane of wavy brown hair - dude looked like a lady from the scalp up. The rest of him, Chad was secure enough to admit, was all man. Now, the other dude? The pretty one? He looked liked a lady from the dick up. You know, minus the boobs, but then again, Chad supposed he could’ve passed for one of those flat-chested chicks. Until you saw his package; then, there was no mistaking nothing.
Wait, wait. He was getting off-track; he was trying to make a point here, if only he could remember it. Damn but porn was distracting. Now the pretty dude was fucking the girl doggy style and, yeah, Chad Junior came back online, and he worked his fist tighter and harder because this was the good shit right here, except that the tall guy was kneeling behind the pretty one and good goddamn, now he was fucking into his buddy, ramming into him, splitting open that tiny asshole with his huge, hard cock and...
Fuck.
Chad saw stars and had a goddamn epiphany as he - and the girl on the screen - came. It was only his awesome instincts, aforementioned athletic prowess, and a handy box of Kleenex that prevented his jizz from fucking up his laptop, because how did you explain that to the guys in the Geek Squad? Huh. Actually, he probably wouldn’t need to explain it at all. It would’ve been a case of been there, done that for those dudes, but anyway, he was getting side-tracked again. Back to the porno.
Now, Chad wasn’t stupid. He would never, ever be accused of being slow on the uptake about anything, not by anyone. He was actually very astute and smart as a whip.
(Mmm, whips.)
Er…moving on.
Those dudes on screen looked familiar. And it was a little fucked up that it had taken the big guy fucking his pretty pal up the ass for Chad to finally get it.
Jesus Christ.
They looked a lot like Jared and Jenny.
Chad rewatched that little porno a couple more times, just to make sure, because he was thorough like that: when he came up with a hypothesis, he liked to cover all his bases, make his observations, and really do his research before he came to any kind of conclusion.
Came. Heh.
Er… It just made good scientific sense.
So, with Jared and Jenny - or Jensen, excuse the fuck outta him - Chad decided to begin at the beginning.
Jensen Ross Ackles.
Born: March 1st, 1978, in Dallas, Texas.
Parents: Alan Roger and Donna Joan Ackles (née Shaffer).
Siblings: Older brother, Joshua, and younger sister, Mackenzie.
That’s right, Chad and Wikipedia knew all about the douchebag who’d swept in and stolen his best friend - the only one he’d managed to make in a good long while - in what seemed like five fucking minutes. Chad was pretty sure that if he and Jensen were ever trapped in a burning building and Jared could only save one of them, Chad would go down in a blaze of glory.
It was the porno that made him realize that he had nothing to worry about. Jared’s girlfriend, Sandy, on the other hand? She was screwed, and not in the good kind of way that involved lots of sweaty sex.
Next Stop: Google.
So, there were fans and there were Fans and Supernatural, it turned out, had Fans.
In legion.
Chad was pretty sure he’d never worked on a show where the fans took it upon themselves to write their own version of events that had made Sam and Dean Sam ‘n’ Dean, highlighting the deeply complex brotherly bond the show just skimmed over, and then tying the whole damn thing up with a pretty, pornographic, incestuous bow.
Damn, but Chad wished One Tree Hill had fans like that, and as soon as he was done with this Jensen and Jared thing, he’d be researching the fuck outta that.
The first time he saw them together - Jared with Jensen - he’d been inclined to think that the Fans had gotten it right. He’d also been naïve enough, up until then, to think that Jared was innocent in all this, that it was all Jensen’s fault. But no, Jared was a whole different person when he was with Jensen - well, not different, perhaps, just him but more amped up - and for a minute, Chad almost didn’t recognize him. And wasn’t that really ridiculous? Because there was no mistaking Jared, once you got to know him.
Jensen, though, he got a Jared that was above and beyond, man. He got the sweet side, the strong side, the sarcastic side, the lovable, adorable, charming, funny, crazy, thoughtful, caring… The goddamn list of Jared’s multi-faceted personality went on and fucking on.
The point: Jensen got all of Jared, no holds barred, no subterfuge, no drama, no reciprocity required.
The other point: Jensen gave as good as he got.
The two of them, they let it all out there for anyone with eyes to see. Cameras around? No problem. Not if Jared could go up to Jensen while the dude was being interviewed, on camera, on the red carpet of an awards show, and mock-kiss him. On the fucking mouth - which, okay, it was Jensen, and he had luscious lips, but that was so not the point - in front of God and gossip rags and, if Jensen hadn’t turned away at the last possible second, there would’ve been hell to pay, because openly gay actors in Hollywood did so fucking well for themselves, right? And Chad wasn’t saying that Jared and Jensen were gay - at least he hadn’t been saying it back then and, if he had been saying it, it had been said in jest - but all you needed was to get the rumor mill going and the paparazzi would do the rest, and all of Jared’s big Hollywood dreams, and probably Jensen’s too, would go bust in the blink of an eye.
And Jared was supposed to be the smart one?
Clearly, someone had to take charge here, and it looked like the onus was, once fucking again, on Chad.
Chad in charge; he liked the sound of that and, great, now he had the Charles in Charge theme song playing on an endless loop in his head. Good thing that tune was catchy and he liked Scott Baio; man, you’d have to be made of stone not to like Baio and his Buddy, Willie Aames, and dude, Nicole Eggert, before she graduated to Baywatch and got that killer boob job.
(Mmm, Baywatch boob jobs.)
Chad would’ve killed to be in charge of her; she'd been his first celebrity crush back when he was still the scrawny kid that no one but his dad had given a rat's ass about.
Oh. Right. Where was he?
Oh, yeah; he could so easily see himself as the suave and gallant new boy in the neighborhood, living downstairs, and it was understood: he’d have to be the one to figure this out, because it was his job to take good care of Jared, because Jared was family. And Jensen was important to Jared and that meant Jensen was important to Chad too - the fucker - and it was up to Chad to step up and take some responsibility here, because neither Jensen nor Jared had the balls to do it themselves.
It was a good thing Chad knew wrong from right, and that his gut instincts had always been infallible, because he was about to stir shit up and he just hoped those two knuckleheads were ready for it.
Sidenote: He should really talk to someone about getting his own sitcom; his agent was for shit.
So, he’d seen it coming for a few months now.
Where before, Jared and Sandy had been tight, now he could see the fraying edges of their relationship. It was like watching a slow-mo train wreck, like reliving the way Jared’s relationship with Alexis had crashed and burned, and Chad could do without that sort of strife in his life, thank you very much. He was a laid-back kind of guy after all, and so was Jared, and when the shit hit the fan, which it inevitably always did, it would throw their lives into a tizzy. And Chad really didn’t want to go through that all over again, because Jared had been with Sandy for years and the fall-out when that sort of thing fell apart was not gonna be pretty.
You know who was pretty, though? Jensen Ackles, that’s who. He was very pretty. For a dude. Chad could admit that; he was man enough. And watching Jared watch Jensen, well, it just made Chad wanna brace himself for the forthcoming clusterfuck. A batten down the hatches, all hands on deck type of thing. So, the smart thing to do, as any battle-weary strategist would tell you, was to head things off at the pass. Plan a counter-attack, take the enemy by surprise.
Yeah. Famous last words. He surprised Jensen, all right, but somehow, instead of steering him away from Jared like he’d planned to, Chad suddenly ended up being Jensen’s tour guide as he ventured forth out of the closet for the first time in his life and embarked on his Great Gay Adventure and, while he was at it, of fucking course, Jensen had to go and make Chad’s easy existence very fucking difficult.
Well, at least Ackles didn’t skimp on the booze.
When he next saw them together, Jensen and Jared, that is, he realized that it didn’t matter that his plan had backfired. None if it mattered, actually; not one fucking bit. Not the rumors about them (because there were rumors aplenty), not how they were with each other in private and in public and even with their respective girlfriends around… Nada. They were just being them; they were comfortable with each other and in their own skin and all was well in their little world.
Admittedly Chad could’ve kept his opinions to himself, but that was not how he rolled. Nope. So, of course, that’s when he went and opened his big, fat mouth.
But Chad being Chad, when he talked outta his ass in this sort of do-or-die situation, something the opposite of stupid tended to come out. He wouldn’t go so far as to label it smart - ‘cause, really, how fucking smart was it trying to convince Jensen to fight Sandy for Jared’s attention and affection? - but it was a start. It got a fire lit under Jensen’s perky ass and it got the wheels in motion, even if Jensen got stuck in the mud, spinning in place, more often than not.
‘Course, that was when Jared and Sandy got engaged and Jensen got devastated and Jared and Sandy called off the engagement and Jared got broken and Chad had to swoop in and fix it all because he was a hero and a fucking awesome friend besides - the best - to Jared and apparently to Jensen by association.
Things were good afterwards, but Jensen was still dragging his feet, and what the fuck was up with that? Weren’t gay guys supposed to go from zero to sixty in however long it took to drop trou? Jesus, but Jensen was a wuss, and making his so-called moves on Jared as slow as molasses on snow meant that someone else, someone who looked weirdly like Sandy, was passing him in the race, hare to his tortoise and all that moral-of-the-story bullshit. Chad - and Jensen - knew Jared had a type and Genevieve was it, like the salt to Sandy’s sugar, and hey, after munching on something sweet, maybe Jared needed a salty snack, to even things out, balance his chakras or some shit, and Chad appreciated treats of both the sweet and savory variety too, so he got it, but Jensen didn’t, and he certainly didn’t appreciate the new chick trespassing on his property and kissing what was his in his own damn house.
What? Dudes were territorial like that; blame natural selection - survival of the fittest, bitches.
But to get back to the epic love story of Jensen and Jared - that’s what the Fans called it, and Chad considered himself one with those very smart Fans - especially when he saw Jared and Jensen together right after that kiss with Genevieve, Jared holding Jensen’s face, looking like there was no one else he’d rather kiss than Jensen, and Jensen had to see that he was the Meg Ryan to Jared’s Tom Hanks, right? Wrong. Because Jensen? Was a dumbass. And fucking blind to boot.
Still, somehow, miraculously, they got their shit together - chalk another one up in Chad’s win column - and the lines of communication opened and suddenly, there was no fucking doubt in Chad’s mind that he would soon be going to his first gay wedding.
And you know what?
He was totally cool with that.
Well, he was cool, period, but you get the drift.
The last time he saw them together - not the last last time, just the last time he’d visited them up in Vancouver - it’d gone a little something like this:
“Wake up and make me breakfast, bitch!” Chad said, right after he’d launched himself onto the bed next to Jensen, waking the guy better than any alarm ever could. Jensen swore like a sailor; Chad was truly impressed. "Pipe down, assmunch. Is that what Jaybird has to put up with every morning? Dunno why’s he’s still with you…”
“The blowjobs,” Jensen muttered into his pillow, very impolitely shoving Chad off when he draped himself all over Jensen’s sleep-warm body.
Chad was not above whining as he dug his bony chin into the meat of Jensen's shoulder. “Feed me.”
“Fuck. Off.”
Chad huffed and slumped onto his back, his head falling into the impression in the pillow Jared’s head must have left. Chad shimmied until he fit right. “So I figured something out while I was watching Queer as Folk the other day.”
“The fuck…?”
“You’re not gay.”
That got Jensen to turn around and look at him, his disbelief slowly morphing into smug smarminess. “Could’ve sworn what Jared and I did last night was pretty fucking gay, dude.”
“I heard, no need for the play by play,” Chad drawled, rolling his eyes. “Thank God for my laptop and noise-cancelling headphones, man.”
Jensen groaned and buried his face in his pillow. “I need to remember to burn your sheets when you leave.”
“Who said I was in bed?”
“Fumigate the whole damn house, then.”
“Masturbation is a beautiful, natural thing,” Chad asserted, “and quit interrupting, I was trying to make a point…”
“Is it pointless?” Jensen asked, because he was a smartass like that, and had an uncanny ability to remember conversations they’d had when they’d been blitzed outta their minds.
“Don’t knock it. You owe me your Happily Ever After, princess.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely, dude.”
Jensen tried (and failed) to disguise his smile in a snarl. “What was your point, asshole?”
“I figured it out - you’re not gay, you’re… Jaredsexual,” Chad declared, pretty fucking triumphantly, because there was an important distinction to be made here and he needed to make sure that Jensen got it. “And Jared’s Jensensexual.”
Jensen huffed and it sounded a lot like he was conceding defeat. “I need coffee to continue this conversation.”
Chad pumped his fist in the air; victory was his again. “Awesome, then you can make me breakfast. I want eggs. Over easy easy.”
Jensen scratched his ass through his boxers as he stumbled out of bed and got upright, just barely without incident. “You’ll be lucky if I share my coffee.”
“Is that any way to treat a guest?” Chad asked, mostly to keep Jensen talking, just to see if the man was capable of walking and talking at the same time at this particular juncture in the morning. He winced in sympathy when Jensen walked right into a wall; his mouth hadn’t even been moving. Chad hurried to precede him down the stairs; at least this way he could catch Jensen if he fell and Chad wouldn’t have to deal with a very upset Jared later on.
The coffee pot was full and steaming hot when they got to the kitchen, and Jensen just barely got it poured into a mug without spilling it all over himself and the countertop. He took a good long swallow before he pried his eyes fully open, sighed, and spoke. “You’re Jared’s guest.”
“Fuck you, I am friend to both of you.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely,” Chad insisted, pouring himself a cup of coffee when it looked like Jensen wasn’t going to be making the first move anytime soon. “Whatever - you love me and you know it, faker.”
“Fucker.” Jensen quipped, and it seemed more rote than insulting so Chad let it pass without comment as Jensen poured himself a second cup of coffee. “So 'Jaredsexual', huh?”
“That’s why you were able to resist my moves.”
Jensen blinked at him. “Your moves?”
“Remember when I tried to kiss you that one time?”
“I still have nightmares...”
“Dreams, Jensen, there’s a difference.”
“I might need therapy…”
“Cock is therapeutic…”
Jensen sputtered, coffee staining the front of his green tee brown as he glared at Chad. “You are never allowed to say that word in this house ever again.”
“Even if I paired it with sucker?”
“God, it’s too early in the morning to deal with you…”
“It’s almost noon, sunshine.”
“Just get to your fucking point so I can go back to bed.”
“Oh. Right. What I meant to say was: You are not gay. Not you, and not Jared,” Chad stated, ignoring Jensen’s flummoxed - and hell, yeah, that was his Word of the Day; he now had an app for that - expression. “You two are just gay for each other. But it’s way more than that, too.”
“And Queer Eye for the Straight Guy taught you this somehow?”
“Queer as Folk.”
“That’s not the same thing?” Jensen's brow furrowed. "What does that even mean?"
“Jeez. Dude, now you’re just embarrassing yourself.”
Jensen growled. “Your point, Murray?”
“I just wanted to say that you guys are it for each other, you know. He’s The One for you and you’re his One and Only. You need someone like him, and he needs someone like you. Sweet to your sour, spice to your sugar. You two lucked out, man.”
Jensen blinked, looked down into his coffee cup as if to assure himself that it couldn't possibly have been drugged. Then he looked at Chad, all suspicious-like. “And?”
“And nothing. That’s all I wanted to say.”
“Oh.”
“I kinda like it.” Chad shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner. “Gives me hope that maybe this love shit works once in a while.”
Jensen studied him for a few seconds, and Chad resisted the urge to squirm under his scrutiny. “I’m living proof of that,” he said finally.
“Yeah, maybe Kenzie and I will get to where you and Jaybird are someday.”
“As long as you make each other happy - keep the past behind you where it belongs and forget that happily-ever-after bullshit - just go with the here and now.”
“No promises of forever?” Chad wondered aloud, recalling the clusterfuck that was his brief marriage to Sophia.
“Nothing wrong with promising to try, one day at a time. If you need a piece of paper to feel secure in your relationship, there’s something wrong there, I think.”
“You better not be saying you don’t believe in marriage, Ackles, because my boy…”
“I thought we were talking about you,” Jensen reminded him, his tone soft, and Chad shut the fuck up. What the hell had happened here? When had Jensen turned the tables on him and channeled Dr. Phil? Chad desperately clung to his man-card.
“Yeah.” Chad sniffed. “Okay.”
“Marriage is not for everybody. Only do it if you feel it’s right.”
“Right. And your intentions towards Jared?”
“Honorable,” Jensen assured him, smiling into his coffee cup.
“Better be…”
“I give you my word.”
“Just don’t take forever this time, okay?”
“I’m working up to it.”
“Yeah, and we all know how well that’s worked for you in the past, chickenshit,” Chad scoffed. “You need help, you call me.”
“I’m pretty sure I can handle this one on my own.” Chad nodded, conceding the point; Jensen reserved the right to be a man about this and not the pansy-assed pussy he used to be, and Chad was willing to wait and watch for the moment. Still, Jared was in his top five life priorities and Chad intended to watch very fucking closely. A weird silence, one that should’ve been uncomfortable but wasn’t, settled around them and lasted until Jensen moved to refill their coffee cups. He smirked at Chad. “Jaredsexual?”
“Yeah.”
He snorted. “Maybe that’s what I should’ve told my mom when I came out to her.”
Chad raised his eyebrows at that little tidbit of information, given freely, no less. “How’d that go?”
“Not so good.”
“Sorry.”
“S’okay.”
Chad looked at him and smirked a little, wanting to lighten the mood. “Is this where we hug?”
Jensen chuckled. “No. Moron.”
“Aww, come on, Jensen, you owe me.” Chad took a page from the Book of Jared and pouted at him, and Jensen laughed.
“C’mere, loser,” he said, giving Chad the quickest hug in the history of the universe. It still felt nice. Hugging was nice; Chad had learnt that from Jared, who gave the most awesome hugs ever. He was really fucking grateful that Jared was gonna end up with someone who was cool with Chad, someone who would someday (or maybe already did) consider Chad a friend, because he and Sandy had had issues, and he and Alexis… Well, best not to go there.
Jensen, though; Chad could live with that.
“You love me.”
“In my nightmares, Murray.”
“I’m sorry your mom’s giving you a hard time,” Chad said, because it needed to be said, because Jensen was a lot like Jared when it came to family and shit like that had to hurt. Jensen shrugged and Chad sighed. “It’ll get better.”
Jensen glanced at him over the rim of his cup. “You think?”
“Yeah - just…time heals all wounds or some shit, dude. You want some free advice?”
“Hit me.”
“Go with whatever Jared says on this; he’s really fucking good at this sort of thing.”
Jensen smiled, sincere and sweet. “Yeah, I figured that out for myself.”
“About damn time, dumbass.”
“Dick.”
Chad smirked at him; there was no mistaking the teeny bit of affection in Jensen's tone. “Is this where we kiss, Jensen?”
“Shut the fuck up, fucktard.”
“Hey, we almost kissed once!” Chad argued, playfully poking Jensen in his chest. “And dude, have you seen your mouth? I feel cheated…”
“No, I feel cheated…” Chad and Jensen both turned to see Jared standing there with his mouth hanging open in shock, and how the fuck had they not heard him or the dogs come in, and oh boy, Chad was so fucking screwed. Jared swallowed visibly. “When was this?”
Before Jensen could respond, Chad, gallant as always, swooped in to the rescue. The best defense was a good offense; he'd learned that playing football and living life. “What?” He glared at his buddy defiantly. “You kissed Genevieve. I was gonna man up and be Jensen’s consolation prize!”
Jared advanced on him, looking a little like a charging bull when you waved a red flag at it. “So you kissed my boyfriend?”
Chad snorted; no way was he ever gonna let them live this shit down. You know, if he survived Jared’s wrath. Unfortunately, he’d never quite gotten the hang of knowing when to shut up. “He wasn’t your boyfriend at the time…”
Jensen sighed and stepped in between them. “Jay, you walked in on us before he could even step into the batter’s box, never mind take a swing at me.”
Jared grabbed Jensen around the waist and growled menacingly at Chad over his shoulder. “How about we keep it that way? And quit lookin’ at Jensen’s mouth, asshole!”
Chad may have cowered just a little, and again, Jensen had to go and be his hero, distracting Jared with a kiss to his jaw.
“Are those blueberry bagels I smell?”
Jared frowned. “No.”
Jensen rolled his eyes at Chad before soothing the savage beast that was Chad’s former best friend with more kisses. “Jared, gimme.”
“Make me,” Jared said petulantly, his eyes still trained on Chad.
Jensen kissed Jared’s mouth, and this time Chad blinked. Huh. That wasn’t as gross as he would’ve thought, and actually, when Jared was finally diverted and lured into kissing Jensen back, it was really kinda cute.
“Mornin', baby,” Jared whispered against Jensen’s mouth and Chad couldn’t help grinning when they smiled and nuzzled each other.
Seriously? He was really fucking proud of himself. He’d done that.
“Like a fucking fairy godfather,” he said aloud, and Jensen laughed, as if knowing exactly what he meant, and then Jared laughed too, and reached out and swatted Chad upside the head, but that was okay, that was normal, and all was well again.
“Just so long as you never try to kiss him,” Jared warned, squishing Jensen close when the man tried to get at a bagel. “My Jensen. Mine.”
“Roger that,” Chad said, nodding sagely and tipping a quick one-fingered salute Jared’s way. “I wouldn’t wanna come between you and your one twoo wuv. Boyfriends. Jesus Christ. I was right. You’re not gay men. You’re a couple of girls. Teenaged girls. No, wait. That’s an insult to teenaged girls. Pre-teen girls. Somewhere around here I’m gonna find a binder covered in doodles of hearts and flowers, and Mrs. Jared Ackles and Mrs. Jensen Padalecki written all over it in pink glitter pen…”
And that was as far as Chad got before he was tackled to the floor by his two so-called friends, tickled to within an inch of his life even as he howled for mercy, the fucking assholes, and if that wasn’t enough, Harley and Sadie came in, and thank fuck, took his side, even if he did end up covered in more doggy drool than their two daddies combined. By the end of it all, when they were laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe right, they declared a truce and broke apart, Chad in a heap with the dogs and Jensen sprawled spread-eagle against the kitchen cupboards, Jared sitting between his legs, his back to Jensen’s chest, Jensen’s arms around him, natural as can be, and why the fuck had they taken these two dumbass dickheads so long to realize that they were fucking made for each other?
Jensen affectionately kissed the side of Jared’s neck and Chad knew his cue when he saw it.
“So how long before we plan the wedding? ‘Cause I have some fucking amazing ideas…”
And there they went doing that thing they did when they looked at each other, like there was nowhere else they’d rather be looking, and Jensen was blushing and grinning and Jared was getting all shy and dimply, and then they were kissing and aww…fuck, Chad had better make tracks before he spontaneously sprouted ovaries. You know, to go with his shiny new pussy.
Snatching a couple of bagels out of the bag Jared had dropped, he took the tub of Philly out of the fridge and grabbed a plate - his only concession to the neat freak side of his BFF - and hightailed it upstairs, ignoring the laughter in the wake of his hasty exit because he so did not need to see two guys getting it on.
You know, unless there was a girl involved in the equation somehow, and oh, he knew exactly how to pass the time.
Man, seriously, all good things ended (and began) with sex.