wb rps - highschoolery, part 10
Because I have no self-control at *all* you lot get part 10 tonight too.
I feel the need to warn you all that I fully intend on taking a short break before starting the next set of 10. I need to plot out what's going to happen, and I need to figure out more closely the relationships between the characters. So thank you all for reading and enjoy some long-due smut!
Statistics for parts 1-10:
total words: 12,727
words written by me: 12,439
days from part 1 to part 10: 21 (includes a 9-day hiatus for Remix purposes)
percent of my brain this story has eaten: 87.3
highschoolery, part 10
Jensen/Jared high school AU
[all parts]
Jensen is waiting at Jared's house. His car is parked on the street when Eric pulls up, but Jensen himself is nowhere to be seen. Eric and Joe, the two left in the Explorer, say "nice car" pretty much simultaneously and Jared feels some kind of weird pride at that, though he's not sure why. He's also wary about the fact that he hasn't seen Jensen yet -- he doesn't think Jensen will pop out of the bushes with a chainsaw, but he also hopes Jensen's not inside making nice with his momma. He steps down out of the Explorer and shuts the door, waving at Eric as he pulls around the cul-de-sac and back down the street. Even from the end of the driveway he can see the garage is closed, so he heads across the lawn for the front door. Halfway there, he sees Jensen sitting on the front porch, slightly hidden behind one of the posts holding up its roof.
"You followed me home." It's not a question because it's obviously true and happening, but Jared reinforces the statement with as much incredulity as he can muster. He doesn't even have to use the word "why."
"Maybe I did." Jensen's face is shadowed in a particularly artistic way. Jared blames the porch light.
"What was so important you couldn't wait to harass me about it on Monday sixth period?"
Jensen fidgets a little. "Can we." He gestures to his Impala. "Do you have to be home right now?"
Jared checks his watch; it's a little after midnight. He remembers telling his momma he'd be in late; he knows she's asleep and his father probably is too. Sighing, he slides his hands in his pockets and says, "Nah. What's up?"
The relieved look on Jensen's face surprises him. "Uh. Let's drive around a little, huh?"
"Sure." They walk to the Impala and get in, shades of that afternoon's handjob still on Jared's mind. Jensen drives without saying anything; without even turning on his obnoxiously loud music. Jared knows something's wrong. "What--" he begins, just as Jensen says, "So--" and they both say "no, go ahead" at the same time.
"So, uh. Mikey caught me after you left."
"Is that right."
"He can be such a dick sometimes."
"Seems to be the only part you care about." There's a long pause during which Jared frantically thinks of things he can say to save his ass. It's kind of a long walk to his house from wherever they are -- somewhere he doesn't recognize, out past the school.
"I, uh. Yeah. I know you saw me with Mikey. And with Tom." Jensen doesn't sound particularly apologetic, but he hasn't dumped Jared in the road, so something must be going right. Or maybe wrong.
Jared crosses his arms over his chest. "Did you think I wasn't going to say anything?"
"Didn't take you for a prude, pond scum."
"Don't *call me that*, okay *Jenny*?" He rests his head against the window and looks at the storefronts while they're stopped at a red light. "I mean, really, what the hell? You do three of us..."
"Four."
"...within a -- four? Do I even want to know who the fourth is?" Jared shouldn't be surprised at this point, but he still is.
"Probably not."
"Tell me anyway."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Dave Boreanaz." Now *that* totally blew the roof off.
"Wow."
"Wow what?"
"I thought he was with whatshername... Sarah. The head cheerleader?"
"He is."
"So you..."
"She won't put out. I will. Simple story, really." Jensen shifts his grip on the wheel a little, relaxes his arm muscles.
"Why's he still with her?"
Jensen shrugs. "I dunno. I think he likes her, a lot. He just doesn't want to wait like she does."
"So he's using you?"
"We use each other, Jare. Guy's hot, what can I say? So's your friend Tommy. So's Mikey, come to think of it, though he's more of a dick than he's got." They drive for another two blocks, then, "You think I'm a slut, don't you?"
"Aren't you? I mean, isn't this kind of the *definition* of slut -- having sex with a bunch of guys at once? And don't give me that 'blowjobs aren't sex' talk. Heard it before."
"Hey, I never said anything about all at once."
"But you're still doing them."
"Yeah."
"Why did Mikey tell me you were sweet on me?"
Jensen thumps the steering wheel. "Son of a... Okay, he wasn't supposed to say that. Okay?" His breathing is suddenly harsh and fast, aggravated.
"...is it true?" Jared's not trying to sound hopeful, but that's how it comes out.
"What?" Jensen turns to glance at him, then back at the road. "I, uh. Why?"
"I just want to know. Is it true?"
"Maybe."
"Would it, um." Jared takes a deep breath. "Would it help you answer if I said maybe something similar?"
They fly through the next red light and instinctively Jared kisses both his hands and touches them to the ceiling. To say Jensen is a little excited is the understatement of the century. "You *what*? Are you shitting me? Because if you are I will kick your ass from here to Richardson and back without breaking a sweat." He sounds so serious that Jared's determined to have a little fun with him.
"Aww, what's the matter? You never had somebody actually care before?"
All the relaxation is gone; Jensen's knuckles are white on the wheel. "What are you ..."
"What am I saying? Well, right *now* I'm saying you should find a place to pull over before you get us both *killed*..."
"Ha ha."
Jared drops the joking tone from his voice. "I'm serious about that. Find a place you can stop."
Jensen must take the hint, because within five minutes they're in an office building's parking lot well back from the main road and Jared's leaning back against his door, studying Jensen. "What?"
"Take off your shirt."
"*What*?"
"You heard me; take off your shirt."
The slightly worried look doesn't leave Jensen's face as he pulls his tee up and over his head. Jared grabs it out of his hands and throws it in the back seat. "What was *that* for?"
"So it wouldn't be in the way," Jared replies, and pounces. His mouth almost finds Jensen's -- he's half an inch too far and instead his lips and tongue find a swath of cheek, slightly stubbly, before sliding back that tiny bit and biting down on Jensen's lower lip. When he gasps, Jared takes it as an invitation and slides his tongue right between those lips.
Jensen pushes back, pushes Jared until his back is resting against the steering wheel; Jared arching so he won't hit the horn. The kiss is furious and rough in a way that put their kiss that afternoon to shame. Jared reaches down, his long arm searching until he finds the seat recline lever. He pulls it and pushes Jensen back at the same time, the driver's side bucket seat collapsing back until it nearly hits the back bench. Jared lays on top of Jensen, their mouths still locked, and brings his hands up to Jensen's head, grasping both sides and kissing even more ferociously.
They lay like this for minutes on end, Jared's tee pressed against Jensen's bare chest, legs a jumble and mouths mapping the contours of one another. When Jared finally pulls away, Jensen tips his head back and pants, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. His head comes rapidly back up and he hisses when Jared's tongue finds his right nipple and the slightly rough flat of it goes skating across his chest, painting him in Jared.
Jared's eyes stay fixated on Jensen's and when he's about to swipe his tongue up along the line of Jensen's pecs toward his collarbone, he says, "Mikey or Tommy ever give you this?"
Still panting, Jensen manages a "no" and Jared finishes what he started, sliding his tongue into the hollow just on the left side of Jensen's neck and kissing there. Grinning as much as he can with his lips occupied, Jared slides his mouth up Jensen's neck. Midway up he stops and nips lightly with his teeth. Jensen's shoulders come up and he gives an "ahhhh" involuntarily as Jared finishes leaving his mark and returns to kissing his way down Jensen's chest.
"You did this for me," he says, slightly muffled by speaking into Jensen's bare tan skin, "and my momma taught me to return favors."
Jensen replies with something unintelligible that sounds mostly affirmative and Jared keeps wending his way south. More affirmations to more important questions and Jared's staring at Jensen's belt buckle. He pulls at the leather and denim and finds Jensen's not wearing any underwear. Jared takes a second to absorb that. Jensen sang half a dozen songs at the Winchester tonight while not wearing any underwear. His vision of the night just got a whole lot dirtier.
The last thing he remembers before he has Jensen's dick in his mouth is a hastily-given promise of fidelity, but he's pretty sure Jensen won't remember it in a few minutes, and indeed he finds himself forgetting it in the strangled gasps coming from Jensen's mouth, two and a half feet trunkward of him. He tries swallowing the whole thing at once, but it's too much, so he settles for running his tongue over the head while running one hand up and down the shaft like he'd do for himself and sliding the other over and over Jensen's naked torso, feeling his abs clench, the hardness of his nipples.
Jensen's hips go up a little, involuntarily, and Jared finds his tongue on the underside of the cockhead's rim; he gives it an experimental lick and Jensen nearly screams. He does it again and he's faced with six feet of bucking sophomore, shuddering as he comes. Jared's not going to lick Jensen clean, so he settles for another kiss and a cheery, "It's probably time for me to go home now, don't you think?"
I feel the need to warn you all that I fully intend on taking a short break before starting the next set of 10. I need to plot out what's going to happen, and I need to figure out more closely the relationships between the characters. So thank you all for reading and enjoy some long-due smut!
Statistics for parts 1-10:
total words: 12,727
words written by me: 12,439
days from part 1 to part 10: 21 (includes a 9-day hiatus for Remix purposes)
percent of my brain this story has eaten: 87.3
highschoolery, part 10
Jensen/Jared high school AU
[all parts]
Jensen is waiting at Jared's house. His car is parked on the street when Eric pulls up, but Jensen himself is nowhere to be seen. Eric and Joe, the two left in the Explorer, say "nice car" pretty much simultaneously and Jared feels some kind of weird pride at that, though he's not sure why. He's also wary about the fact that he hasn't seen Jensen yet -- he doesn't think Jensen will pop out of the bushes with a chainsaw, but he also hopes Jensen's not inside making nice with his momma. He steps down out of the Explorer and shuts the door, waving at Eric as he pulls around the cul-de-sac and back down the street. Even from the end of the driveway he can see the garage is closed, so he heads across the lawn for the front door. Halfway there, he sees Jensen sitting on the front porch, slightly hidden behind one of the posts holding up its roof.
"You followed me home." It's not a question because it's obviously true and happening, but Jared reinforces the statement with as much incredulity as he can muster. He doesn't even have to use the word "why."
"Maybe I did." Jensen's face is shadowed in a particularly artistic way. Jared blames the porch light.
"What was so important you couldn't wait to harass me about it on Monday sixth period?"
Jensen fidgets a little. "Can we." He gestures to his Impala. "Do you have to be home right now?"
Jared checks his watch; it's a little after midnight. He remembers telling his momma he'd be in late; he knows she's asleep and his father probably is too. Sighing, he slides his hands in his pockets and says, "Nah. What's up?"
The relieved look on Jensen's face surprises him. "Uh. Let's drive around a little, huh?"
"Sure." They walk to the Impala and get in, shades of that afternoon's handjob still on Jared's mind. Jensen drives without saying anything; without even turning on his obnoxiously loud music. Jared knows something's wrong. "What--" he begins, just as Jensen says, "So--" and they both say "no, go ahead" at the same time.
"So, uh. Mikey caught me after you left."
"Is that right."
"He can be such a dick sometimes."
"Seems to be the only part you care about." There's a long pause during which Jared frantically thinks of things he can say to save his ass. It's kind of a long walk to his house from wherever they are -- somewhere he doesn't recognize, out past the school.
"I, uh. Yeah. I know you saw me with Mikey. And with Tom." Jensen doesn't sound particularly apologetic, but he hasn't dumped Jared in the road, so something must be going right. Or maybe wrong.
Jared crosses his arms over his chest. "Did you think I wasn't going to say anything?"
"Didn't take you for a prude, pond scum."
"Don't *call me that*, okay *Jenny*?" He rests his head against the window and looks at the storefronts while they're stopped at a red light. "I mean, really, what the hell? You do three of us..."
"Four."
"...within a -- four? Do I even want to know who the fourth is?" Jared shouldn't be surprised at this point, but he still is.
"Probably not."
"Tell me anyway."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Dave Boreanaz." Now *that* totally blew the roof off.
"Wow."
"Wow what?"
"I thought he was with whatshername... Sarah. The head cheerleader?"
"He is."
"So you..."
"She won't put out. I will. Simple story, really." Jensen shifts his grip on the wheel a little, relaxes his arm muscles.
"Why's he still with her?"
Jensen shrugs. "I dunno. I think he likes her, a lot. He just doesn't want to wait like she does."
"So he's using you?"
"We use each other, Jare. Guy's hot, what can I say? So's your friend Tommy. So's Mikey, come to think of it, though he's more of a dick than he's got." They drive for another two blocks, then, "You think I'm a slut, don't you?"
"Aren't you? I mean, isn't this kind of the *definition* of slut -- having sex with a bunch of guys at once? And don't give me that 'blowjobs aren't sex' talk. Heard it before."
"Hey, I never said anything about all at once."
"But you're still doing them."
"Yeah."
"Why did Mikey tell me you were sweet on me?"
Jensen thumps the steering wheel. "Son of a... Okay, he wasn't supposed to say that. Okay?" His breathing is suddenly harsh and fast, aggravated.
"...is it true?" Jared's not trying to sound hopeful, but that's how it comes out.
"What?" Jensen turns to glance at him, then back at the road. "I, uh. Why?"
"I just want to know. Is it true?"
"Maybe."
"Would it, um." Jared takes a deep breath. "Would it help you answer if I said maybe something similar?"
They fly through the next red light and instinctively Jared kisses both his hands and touches them to the ceiling. To say Jensen is a little excited is the understatement of the century. "You *what*? Are you shitting me? Because if you are I will kick your ass from here to Richardson and back without breaking a sweat." He sounds so serious that Jared's determined to have a little fun with him.
"Aww, what's the matter? You never had somebody actually care before?"
All the relaxation is gone; Jensen's knuckles are white on the wheel. "What are you ..."
"What am I saying? Well, right *now* I'm saying you should find a place to pull over before you get us both *killed*..."
"Ha ha."
Jared drops the joking tone from his voice. "I'm serious about that. Find a place you can stop."
Jensen must take the hint, because within five minutes they're in an office building's parking lot well back from the main road and Jared's leaning back against his door, studying Jensen. "What?"
"Take off your shirt."
"*What*?"
"You heard me; take off your shirt."
The slightly worried look doesn't leave Jensen's face as he pulls his tee up and over his head. Jared grabs it out of his hands and throws it in the back seat. "What was *that* for?"
"So it wouldn't be in the way," Jared replies, and pounces. His mouth almost finds Jensen's -- he's half an inch too far and instead his lips and tongue find a swath of cheek, slightly stubbly, before sliding back that tiny bit and biting down on Jensen's lower lip. When he gasps, Jared takes it as an invitation and slides his tongue right between those lips.
Jensen pushes back, pushes Jared until his back is resting against the steering wheel; Jared arching so he won't hit the horn. The kiss is furious and rough in a way that put their kiss that afternoon to shame. Jared reaches down, his long arm searching until he finds the seat recline lever. He pulls it and pushes Jensen back at the same time, the driver's side bucket seat collapsing back until it nearly hits the back bench. Jared lays on top of Jensen, their mouths still locked, and brings his hands up to Jensen's head, grasping both sides and kissing even more ferociously.
They lay like this for minutes on end, Jared's tee pressed against Jensen's bare chest, legs a jumble and mouths mapping the contours of one another. When Jared finally pulls away, Jensen tips his head back and pants, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. His head comes rapidly back up and he hisses when Jared's tongue finds his right nipple and the slightly rough flat of it goes skating across his chest, painting him in Jared.
Jared's eyes stay fixated on Jensen's and when he's about to swipe his tongue up along the line of Jensen's pecs toward his collarbone, he says, "Mikey or Tommy ever give you this?"
Still panting, Jensen manages a "no" and Jared finishes what he started, sliding his tongue into the hollow just on the left side of Jensen's neck and kissing there. Grinning as much as he can with his lips occupied, Jared slides his mouth up Jensen's neck. Midway up he stops and nips lightly with his teeth. Jensen's shoulders come up and he gives an "ahhhh" involuntarily as Jared finishes leaving his mark and returns to kissing his way down Jensen's chest.
"You did this for me," he says, slightly muffled by speaking into Jensen's bare tan skin, "and my momma taught me to return favors."
Jensen replies with something unintelligible that sounds mostly affirmative and Jared keeps wending his way south. More affirmations to more important questions and Jared's staring at Jensen's belt buckle. He pulls at the leather and denim and finds Jensen's not wearing any underwear. Jared takes a second to absorb that. Jensen sang half a dozen songs at the Winchester tonight while not wearing any underwear. His vision of the night just got a whole lot dirtier.
The last thing he remembers before he has Jensen's dick in his mouth is a hastily-given promise of fidelity, but he's pretty sure Jensen won't remember it in a few minutes, and indeed he finds himself forgetting it in the strangled gasps coming from Jensen's mouth, two and a half feet trunkward of him. He tries swallowing the whole thing at once, but it's too much, so he settles for running his tongue over the head while running one hand up and down the shaft like he'd do for himself and sliding the other over and over Jensen's naked torso, feeling his abs clench, the hardness of his nipples.
Jensen's hips go up a little, involuntarily, and Jared finds his tongue on the underside of the cockhead's rim; he gives it an experimental lick and Jensen nearly screams. He does it again and he's faced with six feet of bucking sophomore, shuddering as he comes. Jared's not going to lick Jensen clean, so he settles for another kiss and a cheery, "It's probably time for me to go home now, don't you think?"