Dirt on Our Uniforms II
January
“They’re here,” Jensen pants, pushing through the door with two big boxes in his arms. They must be pretty heavy given how his biceps are bulging, and Jared wonders if maybe he’s not supposed to notice shit like that. Only once you’ve had phone sex with your roommate because Christmas break was too long to go without, some lines start to lose their meaning.
Jensen drops the boxes on Jared’s bed. “Now unfortunately all that’s left is the hard part.” He uses his pocketknife to tear through the tape, and lifts out one of the books.
“Aw, man, you know it’s gonna be awesome. They’re the right size, the perfect damn color. It’s gonna be hilarious.” He thinks about the past New Year’s services, traditionally the most boring event all year at Easton, with every teacher who wants to droning on and on about “the meaning of education.”
“Sure thing, as long as we don’t get our hilarious asses expelled.”
“You can’t be getting cold feet on me now. This was practically all your idea.”
Jensen doesn’t deny it. “You got the keys?” he says shortly, flipping through one of the books, tapping his fingers against the notes and humming.
“Yup. We’re all set.”
“So, how many trips you think we’re going to need?”
“Depends how many of these you can stuff in your backpack.”
***
“If I tell you something, will you promise not to freak out?” As soon as the words are out, Jared realizes it’s the same thing Jensen said when he came out to him.
“I knew it!” says Sandy, and Jared panics in the half-second before she follows it up with, “You’re secretly a transvestite!”
He crumples up a page of notebook paper and throws it at her. “Shut up.”
She sticks her tongue out and throws the paper back. “Litterbug.”
He loves Sandy. He thinks it would be hard not to love Sandy. She’s perky and adorable and she’s got great tits, and at the same time she’s pretty much his best friend. Well, except for maybe Jensen now. “Seriously,” he says. “Promise you won’t freak out.”
“Girl Scout’s honor.” He doesn’t point out that she’s doing the Boy Scout salute. He doesn’t actually know if they’re different.
“I think I…” he begins uncertainly.
“Jay,” she sighs, “is this about the huge crush you have on your roommate? ‘Cause that’s not really news anymore.”
He gapes at her, maybe makes some vowel sounds. “How…?” he finally manages.
She shakes her head. “You walk around with your heart on your sleeve and you don’t even know it. Jay, you’ve done nothing but hang out with him since October, it’s not exactly hard to figure out.”
“Does everybody know?” Jared asks, sinking down into a chair and burying his face in his hands. He’s not gay, he knows he’s not gay, he doesn’t want anybody thinking he’s gay, and…
Sandy puts a hand on his shoulder, small and warm, and Jared looks up at her standing next to him. “I watch out for you more than other people do. Don’t worry, Jay, your secret’s safe with me. But I think I get why you told me he wasn’t looking. And honestly, you might want to let Jensen know sometime. It’s not fair not to.”
Jared looks at his shoes. “Jensen knows. Jensen…” He wants to say “Jensen started it,” except of course, Jensen hadn’t. It had been that story of Mr. Rosenbaum’s, and hormones, and all that other incomprehensible teenage shit.
Sandy’s hand draws back, and Jared looks up to find her face blank with shock. “Oh, god, Jay. You’re with him, aren’t you?”
He intends to say “no,” but what comes out is, “Not exactly.” Because it’s been every night since they got back from Christmas, climbing into Jensen’s bed and slipping his hand into the sweatpants Jensen sleeps in, grinning into Jensen’s mouth when he comes. And that’s sort of like being “with” him.
“You didn’t tell me,” says Sandy, and she really looks kind of hurt.
“Well, you didn’t tell me I had a crush on him.”
“I thought you could have figured that out yourself, Jay.”
“I’m not used to this,” he admits helplessly. And he means a lot of different things by “this,” handjobs with Jensen, questioning his sexuality, having Sandy look at him like he kicks puppies for a hobby.
“Jay, you know nobody minds if you’re…”
Jared shakes his head at once and his stomach squirms uncomfortably. He doesn’t want to think of himself as gay. Gay’s a commitment, like being a whole new person. And Jared likes who he is already, including who he is with Jensen. But… “My parents would mind.”
Sandy plunks herself down on his lap and puts an arm around his neck. He holds her by one hand on her hip, steadying her. “Your parents love you,” she says, as if that fixes everything. “They could never stop. Hell, I’m sure your mom would tell you what good taste you have the minute she gets sight of Jensen.”
Jared smiles as he imagines his momma fussing over Jensen the way she’d fussed over Sandy when she came to visit, even though there’s no way in hell it would really go like that. Right, so Jensen is hot, really hot, if Jared’s going to be completely honest with himself about it, but it would take a lot more than hot to make his momma stomach Jensen as Jared’s… “I’m not gay,” he says, realizing as he says it that it comes out sort of whiny and plaintive, and therefore he probably deserves the way Sandy pats him on the head.
“It’s not like you have to be all one or the other. Maybe you’re bisexual. Most people are, to some degree, right?”
“Like you?”
Sandy shrugs. “Yeah. Sure.”
He doesn’t say anything. Sandy snaps her fingers in front of his face. “What?” he asks.
“You were drooling,” she tells him.
“Was not.” He looks at her critically. “You like girls?”
“Not all girls. I mean, not like every girl on the face of the earth, but yeah. There are girls I like.”
“Like who?” Jared tightens his arms around her. He feels like a mall Santa asking little Sandy what she wants for Christmas this year.
But he doesn’t actually get to hear her answer because just then Jensen opens the door and freezes. Something like panic flickers across his face, followed by anger before it goes blank. “Sorry,” Jensen says roughly. “Should’ve knocked.” He drops his bag by the foot of his bed and begins rearranging things on top of his dresser.
Sandy stands up, looking embarrassed. “I’ll see you later, Jay,” she says quietly. “I should go. But if you need to talk, you know where to find me. See ya, Jensen.”
“See ya,” says Jensen, without much enthusiasm. He’s not looking at either of them, and Jared knows exactly what the guilty feeling in his stomach means. “How’s it going, Jay?” Jensen asks when Sandy leaves, as if nothing’s wrong, and that just makes it worse.
“I’m okay. How are you?”
“Long day. Think I might go to sleep early tonight.” He pauses. “So, are you and Sandy getting together again? Congratulations, man.”
It’s fake and hollow, and Jared’s voice comes out more angrily than he means it to when he says, “It’s not like that.”
Jensen looks him in the eye for the first time since he came into the room. “What is it like?” he asks.
Jared feels pinned, with no way out. “We’re not… We aren’t getting back together. At all. I’m not…” But he doesn’t know how to finish that thought.
“Huh. My mistake, then. Sorry.” Jensen’s still looking at him though, and Jared has to admit the attention is a little bit of a turn-on.
“Would you be happy if I got back together with Sandy?”
“Would you kick me out of the room to make out with her?” Jensen takes a step closer, and Jared wants to reach out to him, pull Jensen into his lap the way he had Sandy.
“It’s your room too. I wouldn’t keep you out.”
“I’d be all right.”
“You can tell me, Jen. Sandy keeps telling me that real men share their feelings.”
Jensen laughs and rubs a hand over his face. “You know Sandy’s sometimes full of shit, right?”
“Yeah. But she’s cute. It’s hard not to believe her.”
“What the hell are we doing, Jay?” It’s a gunshot of a question, sudden and painful, and Jared’s paralyzed by it. Jensen’s looking at him again, and standing even closer so Jared can smell him, laundry detergent and Old Spice.
“I…”
“Seriously, Jay, what the fuck is going on here? You’re not seriously turning Sandy down because of me. You love that girl.”
“But not in a dating way. Not now. Man, I’m the first to admit I’m damn confused right now. But I know that hooking up with Sandy again isn’t part of the plan.”
Jensen leans down towards him, nearly close enough to kiss, and then even closer, nuzzling the side of Jared’s neck, and Jared shifts as his cock twitches. He puts a hand on Jensen’s hip to pull him closer just as Jensen whispers, “Let me clear up some of your confusion.”
“Uh-huh,” Jared agrees breathlessly.
Jensen bites the lobe of his ear before backing away and saying harshly, “You’re not gay.”
Jared gapes and tries to work that out through the haze of arousal fogging his brain. “How do you know?”
“Because liking my hand on your dick doesn’t change the fact that you like girls, that you like Sandy.”
“Can’t I like both? Can’t I like you?” He stands up, and he’s taller than Jensen by several inches, and Jensen cringes a little, like Jared’s about to hit him. “I do like you,” he says softly.
“Jay, don’t,” Jensen tells him, shaking his head. “It’s so much easier if we don’t talk about it. Can’t we just not talk about it?”
“Yeah,” Jared replies and kisses him, slow and deep, cupping Jensen’s face between his hands so he can’t pull away. It isn’t the kind of thing Sandy would tell him to do, but apparently he and Jensen are a hell of a lot better at this than they are at talking.
When Jensen breaks the kiss he’s panting and his cheeks are flushed. Jared wants to keep kissing him. But Jensen says, “We should talk about next week.”
He takes his pranking seriously, and Jared steps back, sits down, stuffs his hands in his pockets, all to keep from dragging Jensen into bed.
***
Jared’s got the last load of hymnals in his bag when he hears voices in the apse of the chapel, quiet but echoing. He pauses to listen, see which direction they’re going. One is definitely Manners, but the other is a sharp-edged, coaxing voice he thinks he’s heard somewhere before. “Come now,” the unknown voice is saying. “You can’t expect to back out after all our hard work. The deal has been struck. The board has agreed to it, and the investment has been made. It’s not as though…” Jared strains to hear, but the rest of the sentence is just a low hiss.
Manners’ reply is just a low rumble, although Jared thinks he catches the words “fourth-quarter projections” in the middle. They’re moving along the main aisle now, and Jared presses tight into the doorframe of the supply closet so they won’t see him. Whatever’s going on, he doesn’t want to get caught. He holds his breath until he hears the door to the chapel click shut behind them, then makes off for the dorm at a run. Even though it’s probably nothing, he’s always suspected Manners of being involved in some shady business (anyone who can teach econ in a school like Easton looking like a hobo must have something on somebody), and he wants to tell Jensen all about it. He wishes he’d gotten a look at the other guy, but the fact is, he wouldn’t know a crime lord if one bit him.
Jensen’s been studying like a lunatic for his econ test (because somehow Manners didn’t get the memo that your supposed to give hugeass exams before the end of first term) and even the news that his teacher is in with the mob doesn’t drag his head out of the textbook. Jared tries to embellish the story to make it more than half an overheard conversation, but Jensen just says, “Jay, please,” in such a tired voice that Jared leaves him alone. He tries to read for English instead, but discovers that, for a book about adultery, The Scarlet Letter has very little sex in it. It’s disappointing.
***
They’re not quite the first people into the chapel for New Year’s service - Jensen pointed out that that might be suspicious - but they arrive ten minutes before the start time and Jensen has to pinch him so he’ll stop fidgeting. “You’re like a hyperactive four-year old,” Jensen hisses. “Calm down.”
Jared pinches him back. “Yeah, and you’re so mature.”
Jensen has just opened his mouth to reply when Chad slides into the pew next to them. “Wake me up when it’s over, man,” he sighs, leaning his head back against the bare wood backrest. “Next year I’m bringing a pillow.”
Sandy sits down next to Jensen. “As long as you don’t drool on my shoulder ever again, I think you should do it.”
“I did not…”
“You were asleep, jackass. And Jared has the pictures to prove it.”
Chad punches him in the arm. “Hey! What’s with everybody trying to hurt me today? Like you didn’t stick a spoon in my mouth when I fell asleep in the library last year and then email the pictures to everyone in our class.”
Jensen barks out a laugh before he catches himself and says quietly, “Do you think I could get copies of those?”
“I’m the person most capable of killing you in your sleep,” Jared tells him flatly.
“Don’t make me hit you too,” Sandy threatens, as more people filter into the chapel around them. Jared sinks down a little in his seat, trying to look oppressed. But inside he’s imagining the look on Principal Morgan’s face when he figures out what they’ve done.
He entertains himself through the “inspirational” speeches from a succession of the school’s oldest and most boring faculty by imagining all the triumphant making out he and Jensen are going to do when they get back to the room. He’s so distracted trying to hide his growing hard-on that Jensen has to nudge him to stand for the closing hymn, and Jared holds his breath as the piano starts up and everyone who’s still awake rustles through their hymnals. Or what they think are their hymnals.
The giggling starts at the back of the room, seems to radiate up like a wave, growing into a confused murmur that silences the warbling of the teachers in the front of the room. Principal Morgan stands up and strides to the podium. “What is the meaning of this?” he asks. Someone rushes up to hand him one of the switched books. Jared’s glad they sat close enough to see the color rising in Morgan’s face as he looks through the book. “Greatest Hits of Southern Rock?” he roars, shaking the book at them. Jared has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. “I demand to know who did this.”
“Play ‘Freebird!’” yells someone behind them, and Jared just loses it, laughing until there are tears in his eyes. Luckily he’s not the only one. Chad looks like he’s about to piss himself, and even Jensen is shaking with laughter, one hand over his eyes.
Morgan’s still talking, but no one can hear him over the roar, and eventually he gives up and starts ordering them all back to the dorms, other teachers herding them towards the door. Jared tucks a couple of the books in his bag just in case he ever needs them, and follows Jensen out under the (as always) disapproving eye of Mr. Manners. They don’t look each other in the eye until they’re back in their room, which is good because Jared doesn’t think he could keep the smug grin off his face if they did. Being confined to the dorm for the rest of the afternoon doesn’t seem like much of a punishment at all.
***
The first time Jared gives head, he thinks it’s a surprise to them both. Jensen has been a little shy all along, vaguely incredulous every time Jared flicks him a dirty note in history, or strips naked at the end of the day and spreads his hands in offering. Although he’s never said no to Jared’s hand down his pants, in general he doesn’t seem to expect much in the way of reciprocation. And Jared thinks that’s just wrong. Especially when Jensen comes back from a morning run all flushed and sweaty, smelling like the cold outside, and it’s a kind of provocation Jared can’t ignore. Jensen starts to take off his sweats, but Jared slides out of bed to do it for him, kissing every slick inch of Jensen’s skin as it’s revealed.
“I need a shower,” Jensen says dubiously, as Jared bites down on his shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise. “I stink.”
“After,” Jared tells him, and he tugs out the bow of the drawstring of Jen’s pants.
“After what?” Jensen asks, big, disingenuous grin on his face.
Jared leans in to suck the lobe of his ear. “After I suck you off. After you come in my mouth.” The words taste strange, unfamiliar, but Jensen shudders against him, closes his eyes, and it’s unbelievably hot. Without another word, Jared sinks to his knees.
“Christ, Jay, you’re unbelievable.” Jensen twists his fingers into Jared’s hair, and Jared can feel his hand shaking. His own heartbeat is loud in his ears. Jared pulls Jensen’s pants down and mouths at the shape of his dick through soft cotton boxers. Jensen makes a sharp, startled noise. He’s already hard. Nuzzling in closer, Jared can smell sweat and musk, Ivory soap and the flowery detergent Jensen’s mom bought for him.
He’s a little tentative, working Jensen’s boxers off his hips, and Jensen’s cock bobs up against his lips. Jared touches his tongue to the tip of it, and Jensen groans. “You and your big mouth,” says Jensen, and Jared sucks in the head of his dick. The hand in Jared’s hair fists tight in response.
It takes some getting used to, taking short little breaths through his nose, trying not to gag as Jensen sways closer. He knows he needs practice, ‘cause the drool isn’t exactly sexy, but Jesus Christ, the noises Jensen’s making are, so Jared keeps going, swirling his tongue around the swollen head of Jensen’s dick. Jared kneads Jensen’s hip, practically holding him up when his knees look like they’re about to buckle. He fucking loves that he can take Jensen apart like this. It’s only another minute before Jensen chokes out, “I’m gonna come,” and Jared holds on tight, swallowing around his dick. Jensen’s come is thick and heady, and Jared hopes Jen won’t be offended if Jared goes to brush his teeth after this.
Jensen doesn’t look like much of anything would offend him though. He sinks back onto Jared’s bed, his eyes glazed. “Fuck, Jay.”
“You thought I didn’t want to, didn’t you?” says Jared incredulously, wiping a hand across his mouth.
“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” shrugs Jensen.
Jared shuffles over, still on his knees, and looks up into Jensen’s face. “You’re such a girl sometimes, Jen.”
“You don’t get to say that after sucking my cock.”
Jared hoists himself up onto the bed and kisses him. His teeth can wait a minute.
***
“So,” says Sandy, and Jared can tell there’s something big that’s going to follow that ‘so’.
“So?” Jared replies. It’s freakishly warm and not even wet, and Jared’s sitting under a tree trying to forget that they’re predicting snow for the weekend. Fucking New England.
“You and Jensen,” she continues, and yeah, that’s just the sort of thing Jared doesn’t want to talk to Sandy about while sitting under a tree where anyone in the whole school could hear them.
“Can we discuss this someplace not here?”
“Coffee?” says Sandy, and Jared gets up and dusts himself off, because seriously, with everything that’s going on, he’s kind of sick of having no one to tell about it.
She takes his arm as they walk into town, and it reminds him of freshman year, when they were practically joined at the hip and went everywhere like this. Sandy beams up at him and he knows she’s thinking about it too.
The coffee shop is quiet, and the heat’s turned up too high because it’s the middle of January and it’s really supposed to be colder than fifty-five. Jared gets foam on his nose with the first sip of his vanilla latte, and Sandy wipes it off with her napkin, laughing. It’s not as though he regrets that things ended between them, but he knows his life would be very different if they hadn’t. Maybe not worse, either, just different. “So,” says Sandy again, and this time it’s obviously a cue for Jared to start talking.
“We’re doing stuff together,” says Jared vaguely, embarrassed now that Sandy’s eyes are on him. “It’s fun. I like him.”
“Jared, don’t make me drag it out of you. Have you talked about anything?”
They’ve talked about a lot of things, but that’s not what Sandy means. “No,” Jared says honestly. It’s not like they want to go out on dates and buy each other flowers; it’s not like Jared wants to start sentences with “My boyfriend says.”
Sandy’s eyebrows go up. “Are you going to?”
Jared considers it. “No.”
“So you’d feel just fine if he met somebody else and started making out with him everyday after class?”
Something twists sourly in Jared’s gut. He imagines Jensen kissing another guy, some faceless stranger, and it feels wrong. “No, I wouldn’t,” he admits.
“Do you think he feels the same way?”
“We’re guys, Sandy. You think we sit around talking about our feelings?”
She goes off on another tack straight away. “So, just what do you sit around doing?” she asks slyly.
Jared blushes hot, glances around the coffee shop where absolutely no one is looking at them, and then drops his eyes to the table. “Whatever,” he says, as if that’ll throw her off the scent.
“Still a virgin, Jay?” Sandy asks, and she sounds both amused and worried. He remembers their one failed attempt at sex, remembers all the things they’d done instead, the hot taste of her pussy on his tongue before they broke up the last time, a little like Jensen in his mouth, but still so different.
“Mostly,” he says, because if going down on her didn’t count, going down on Jensen shouldn’t. Jared is very into gender equality.
“Mostly?”
“I’m thinking of not being one anymore,” he offers. Jared knows it’s his God-given right as a sixteen-year-old boy to think about sex a lot, but he doesn’t know if daydreaming about fucking Jensen in the ass all the time is normal. He’s not even sure if Jensen would think it was normal. And it definitely doesn’t make pre-calc any easier.
“Uh-huh,” says Sandy, taking a sip of her mocha.
Jared furrows his brow. “What’s ‘uh-huh’ s’posed to mean?”
“Means I know how much you think about things you actually do. If you were going to do it, I think you would have done it already.” She taps a finger against her lips. “Unless you’re scared.”
“Shut up,” says Jared, too quickly. Because of course he’s scared, but he can’t tell Sandy something like that.
“You’re allowed to be scared, Jay,” she points out. “It’s not a big a deal if you are. You probably should be.”
“It’s not the sex,” Jared says. It’s like she’s picking him apart piece by piece, finding all the things he hasn’t said to anyone with perfect accuracy. “I don’t even know if I’m gay. I mean, I’m not. I’m not gay. But Jensen’s just… And I don’t want to have to explain it to my parents. Or anyone else.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I’m explaining it to you.”
“That’s only because I bought you coffee.”
Jared puts his hand over hers on the table. “Thanks.”
Sandy pulls her hand away. “You’re way too good a boyfriend, Jay. Don’t waste all that charm on me.”
Jared wants to say it’s not a waste, but she’s looking at the table and he thinks maybe it’s the wrong moment. They go back to school soon after that.
***
“Nice work, Padalecki,” says Mr. Rosenbaum, and Jared nods towards his desk as his creative nonfiction assignment is slapped down on it. He hasn’t looked his teacher in the face since November, and he thinks Mr. Rosenbaum is starting to notice. But at least Jared’s not snickering all the damn time like Chad is, slouching at the other side of the room and talking shit to Justin and James. All the desks are arranged in a circle to “encourage dialogue,” but mostly it means Jared ends up watching Chad scratching his balls for an hour everyday, since he won’t look up anymore.
Jared takes his essay, and flips through it, looking at Mr. Rosenbaum’s encouraging comments in the margins. They had been assigned to write about an event that had changed their worldview, and Jared had written about the day he broke his arm falling out of a tree, and realizing he wasn’t invulnerable. But there are other life-changing things going on these days, and he wonders if maybe he should have picked something different.
“Padalecki, hang around for a minute,” Mr. Rosenbaum says when the bell rings. Jared pauses in hastily shoving his notebook into his bag, grimacing as Rosenbaum walks up behind him, arms folded. “Is there something going on I should know about, Padalecki?”
“No, sir,” says Jared, staring at his shoes.
“You haven’t raised your hand in class in weeks, and yet you keep turning in good work. It’s unnatural. I’m looking into infiltration by an alien force.”
Jared jerks his head up for a second, offers a tight smile. “No aliens, sir. I think I would know.”
“Jared, I know there have been some weird rumors going around the school about me this year, and I understand if you’re uncomfortable, but you can’t let it drag you down in class. You’re here for school, not far-fetched stories about my personal life. You’re a good kid, and you need to get your shit together and act like it. Class participation is almost as important as what you write here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
Jared wants to ask if the rumors are true, if Mr. Rosenbaum really wrote that story he and Jensen read together, the one he keeps under his mattress now, smudged and come-stained; Jared wants to ask whether he knew he was gay in high school, if he was confused and unsure of everything. “I’ll do better,” Jared tells him sincerely because he can’t say the rest. He chances a look at Rosenbaum’s face, sees concern there like he’s never seen in class.
“I spend lunch periods in my classroom,” Rosenbaum says. “Maybe you should come see me sometime.” He turns back towards his desk and Jared is left standing dumbly with two minutes left to get to math.
***
Jensen’s not all that into cuddling, which is a shame, but Jared’s pretty much accepted it. Which is why it’s a surprise when Jensen crawls into bed with him at two in the morning, cold toes and all, and starts kissing down the side of Jared’s neck, working a hand into his boxers. Jared’s not complaining though (well, maybe about the toes) and he bends to cover Jensen’s mouth with his. He feels his way into Jensen’s clothes, works his t-shirt up his back and slides his fingers over smooth skin.
Jared’s breath catches as Jensen’s clever fingers wrap around his dick and start to stroke. He can see the movement of it beneath the blanket, the quick up-and-down of Jensen touching him. He pushes one leg in between Jensen’s to return the favor.
“What was that for?” Jared asks when they’ve both come, and Jensen is lying against his chest, legs curved against Jared’s.
Jensen’s breathing is deep and even, and Jared wonders if he’s asleep, figures he probably shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth anyway, and has nearly fallen asleep himself when Jensen finally says, “Was dreaming about you.”
Jared laughs in disbelief. “Some dream.”
“Yeah,” Jensen agrees, then curls one hand against Jared’s belly and goes to sleep. When Jared wakes up in the morning, Jensen’s in his own bed again, just like nothing happened.
“You kick like a dog,” Jensen says, instead of “good morning,” and that’s the only confirmation Jared has that any of it was real.
“Sorry,” he says cheerfully.
“Liar.”
“Look, you were the one that had the dream and went looking for a warm body.” Jared gets out of his own bed to pile onto Jensen’s, nearly smothering him. “Not my fault I didn’t meet your specifications.”
“You’re such a freak, Jay,” says Jensen, which is something he says a lot, and every time he does, it sounds more like an endearment. He doesn’t tell Jared to get off his bed either, so Jared cups his face and kisses him.
“What were you dreaming about?” Jared asks, finally pulling away.
Jensen goes bright red behind his freckles. “None of your business.” He fumbles for his glasses on the desk behind him, and tries to sit up, but Jared keeps him pinned. “Seriously, Jay, we’re going to be late for assembly. Get up.”
“It was about me?” he asks, sucking gently at the side of Jensen’s neck. Jensen groans, and his hips give a little questing jerk towards Jared’s. “Come on, you can tell me. What were we doing?” He reaches down to grab at Jensen’s dick through the blankets, and he’s not sure if it’s that or the words that make Jensen push abruptly away.
“No,” Jensen says firmly, gripping Jared’s wrist to keep him from sliding off the bed altogether. Considerate. But not talking. Jared gets up and goes to shower, and by the time they’re both heading off to class, everything’s back to normal. Except that all day, in the back of his head, Jared’s wondering what kinky thing Jensen could’ve been dreaming about.
Part III
“They’re here,” Jensen pants, pushing through the door with two big boxes in his arms. They must be pretty heavy given how his biceps are bulging, and Jared wonders if maybe he’s not supposed to notice shit like that. Only once you’ve had phone sex with your roommate because Christmas break was too long to go without, some lines start to lose their meaning.
Jensen drops the boxes on Jared’s bed. “Now unfortunately all that’s left is the hard part.” He uses his pocketknife to tear through the tape, and lifts out one of the books.
“Aw, man, you know it’s gonna be awesome. They’re the right size, the perfect damn color. It’s gonna be hilarious.” He thinks about the past New Year’s services, traditionally the most boring event all year at Easton, with every teacher who wants to droning on and on about “the meaning of education.”
“Sure thing, as long as we don’t get our hilarious asses expelled.”
“You can’t be getting cold feet on me now. This was practically all your idea.”
Jensen doesn’t deny it. “You got the keys?” he says shortly, flipping through one of the books, tapping his fingers against the notes and humming.
“Yup. We’re all set.”
“So, how many trips you think we’re going to need?”
“Depends how many of these you can stuff in your backpack.”
***
“If I tell you something, will you promise not to freak out?” As soon as the words are out, Jared realizes it’s the same thing Jensen said when he came out to him.
“I knew it!” says Sandy, and Jared panics in the half-second before she follows it up with, “You’re secretly a transvestite!”
He crumples up a page of notebook paper and throws it at her. “Shut up.”
She sticks her tongue out and throws the paper back. “Litterbug.”
He loves Sandy. He thinks it would be hard not to love Sandy. She’s perky and adorable and she’s got great tits, and at the same time she’s pretty much his best friend. Well, except for maybe Jensen now. “Seriously,” he says. “Promise you won’t freak out.”
“Girl Scout’s honor.” He doesn’t point out that she’s doing the Boy Scout salute. He doesn’t actually know if they’re different.
“I think I…” he begins uncertainly.
“Jay,” she sighs, “is this about the huge crush you have on your roommate? ‘Cause that’s not really news anymore.”
He gapes at her, maybe makes some vowel sounds. “How…?” he finally manages.
She shakes her head. “You walk around with your heart on your sleeve and you don’t even know it. Jay, you’ve done nothing but hang out with him since October, it’s not exactly hard to figure out.”
“Does everybody know?” Jared asks, sinking down into a chair and burying his face in his hands. He’s not gay, he knows he’s not gay, he doesn’t want anybody thinking he’s gay, and…
Sandy puts a hand on his shoulder, small and warm, and Jared looks up at her standing next to him. “I watch out for you more than other people do. Don’t worry, Jay, your secret’s safe with me. But I think I get why you told me he wasn’t looking. And honestly, you might want to let Jensen know sometime. It’s not fair not to.”
Jared looks at his shoes. “Jensen knows. Jensen…” He wants to say “Jensen started it,” except of course, Jensen hadn’t. It had been that story of Mr. Rosenbaum’s, and hormones, and all that other incomprehensible teenage shit.
Sandy’s hand draws back, and Jared looks up to find her face blank with shock. “Oh, god, Jay. You’re with him, aren’t you?”
He intends to say “no,” but what comes out is, “Not exactly.” Because it’s been every night since they got back from Christmas, climbing into Jensen’s bed and slipping his hand into the sweatpants Jensen sleeps in, grinning into Jensen’s mouth when he comes. And that’s sort of like being “with” him.
“You didn’t tell me,” says Sandy, and she really looks kind of hurt.
“Well, you didn’t tell me I had a crush on him.”
“I thought you could have figured that out yourself, Jay.”
“I’m not used to this,” he admits helplessly. And he means a lot of different things by “this,” handjobs with Jensen, questioning his sexuality, having Sandy look at him like he kicks puppies for a hobby.
“Jay, you know nobody minds if you’re…”
Jared shakes his head at once and his stomach squirms uncomfortably. He doesn’t want to think of himself as gay. Gay’s a commitment, like being a whole new person. And Jared likes who he is already, including who he is with Jensen. But… “My parents would mind.”
Sandy plunks herself down on his lap and puts an arm around his neck. He holds her by one hand on her hip, steadying her. “Your parents love you,” she says, as if that fixes everything. “They could never stop. Hell, I’m sure your mom would tell you what good taste you have the minute she gets sight of Jensen.”
Jared smiles as he imagines his momma fussing over Jensen the way she’d fussed over Sandy when she came to visit, even though there’s no way in hell it would really go like that. Right, so Jensen is hot, really hot, if Jared’s going to be completely honest with himself about it, but it would take a lot more than hot to make his momma stomach Jensen as Jared’s… “I’m not gay,” he says, realizing as he says it that it comes out sort of whiny and plaintive, and therefore he probably deserves the way Sandy pats him on the head.
“It’s not like you have to be all one or the other. Maybe you’re bisexual. Most people are, to some degree, right?”
“Like you?”
Sandy shrugs. “Yeah. Sure.”
He doesn’t say anything. Sandy snaps her fingers in front of his face. “What?” he asks.
“You were drooling,” she tells him.
“Was not.” He looks at her critically. “You like girls?”
“Not all girls. I mean, not like every girl on the face of the earth, but yeah. There are girls I like.”
“Like who?” Jared tightens his arms around her. He feels like a mall Santa asking little Sandy what she wants for Christmas this year.
But he doesn’t actually get to hear her answer because just then Jensen opens the door and freezes. Something like panic flickers across his face, followed by anger before it goes blank. “Sorry,” Jensen says roughly. “Should’ve knocked.” He drops his bag by the foot of his bed and begins rearranging things on top of his dresser.
Sandy stands up, looking embarrassed. “I’ll see you later, Jay,” she says quietly. “I should go. But if you need to talk, you know where to find me. See ya, Jensen.”
“See ya,” says Jensen, without much enthusiasm. He’s not looking at either of them, and Jared knows exactly what the guilty feeling in his stomach means. “How’s it going, Jay?” Jensen asks when Sandy leaves, as if nothing’s wrong, and that just makes it worse.
“I’m okay. How are you?”
“Long day. Think I might go to sleep early tonight.” He pauses. “So, are you and Sandy getting together again? Congratulations, man.”
It’s fake and hollow, and Jared’s voice comes out more angrily than he means it to when he says, “It’s not like that.”
Jensen looks him in the eye for the first time since he came into the room. “What is it like?” he asks.
Jared feels pinned, with no way out. “We’re not… We aren’t getting back together. At all. I’m not…” But he doesn’t know how to finish that thought.
“Huh. My mistake, then. Sorry.” Jensen’s still looking at him though, and Jared has to admit the attention is a little bit of a turn-on.
“Would you be happy if I got back together with Sandy?”
“Would you kick me out of the room to make out with her?” Jensen takes a step closer, and Jared wants to reach out to him, pull Jensen into his lap the way he had Sandy.
“It’s your room too. I wouldn’t keep you out.”
“I’d be all right.”
“You can tell me, Jen. Sandy keeps telling me that real men share their feelings.”
Jensen laughs and rubs a hand over his face. “You know Sandy’s sometimes full of shit, right?”
“Yeah. But she’s cute. It’s hard not to believe her.”
“What the hell are we doing, Jay?” It’s a gunshot of a question, sudden and painful, and Jared’s paralyzed by it. Jensen’s looking at him again, and standing even closer so Jared can smell him, laundry detergent and Old Spice.
“I…”
“Seriously, Jay, what the fuck is going on here? You’re not seriously turning Sandy down because of me. You love that girl.”
“But not in a dating way. Not now. Man, I’m the first to admit I’m damn confused right now. But I know that hooking up with Sandy again isn’t part of the plan.”
Jensen leans down towards him, nearly close enough to kiss, and then even closer, nuzzling the side of Jared’s neck, and Jared shifts as his cock twitches. He puts a hand on Jensen’s hip to pull him closer just as Jensen whispers, “Let me clear up some of your confusion.”
“Uh-huh,” Jared agrees breathlessly.
Jensen bites the lobe of his ear before backing away and saying harshly, “You’re not gay.”
Jared gapes and tries to work that out through the haze of arousal fogging his brain. “How do you know?”
“Because liking my hand on your dick doesn’t change the fact that you like girls, that you like Sandy.”
“Can’t I like both? Can’t I like you?” He stands up, and he’s taller than Jensen by several inches, and Jensen cringes a little, like Jared’s about to hit him. “I do like you,” he says softly.
“Jay, don’t,” Jensen tells him, shaking his head. “It’s so much easier if we don’t talk about it. Can’t we just not talk about it?”
“Yeah,” Jared replies and kisses him, slow and deep, cupping Jensen’s face between his hands so he can’t pull away. It isn’t the kind of thing Sandy would tell him to do, but apparently he and Jensen are a hell of a lot better at this than they are at talking.
When Jensen breaks the kiss he’s panting and his cheeks are flushed. Jared wants to keep kissing him. But Jensen says, “We should talk about next week.”
He takes his pranking seriously, and Jared steps back, sits down, stuffs his hands in his pockets, all to keep from dragging Jensen into bed.
***
Jared’s got the last load of hymnals in his bag when he hears voices in the apse of the chapel, quiet but echoing. He pauses to listen, see which direction they’re going. One is definitely Manners, but the other is a sharp-edged, coaxing voice he thinks he’s heard somewhere before. “Come now,” the unknown voice is saying. “You can’t expect to back out after all our hard work. The deal has been struck. The board has agreed to it, and the investment has been made. It’s not as though…” Jared strains to hear, but the rest of the sentence is just a low hiss.
Manners’ reply is just a low rumble, although Jared thinks he catches the words “fourth-quarter projections” in the middle. They’re moving along the main aisle now, and Jared presses tight into the doorframe of the supply closet so they won’t see him. Whatever’s going on, he doesn’t want to get caught. He holds his breath until he hears the door to the chapel click shut behind them, then makes off for the dorm at a run. Even though it’s probably nothing, he’s always suspected Manners of being involved in some shady business (anyone who can teach econ in a school like Easton looking like a hobo must have something on somebody), and he wants to tell Jensen all about it. He wishes he’d gotten a look at the other guy, but the fact is, he wouldn’t know a crime lord if one bit him.
Jensen’s been studying like a lunatic for his econ test (because somehow Manners didn’t get the memo that your supposed to give hugeass exams before the end of first term) and even the news that his teacher is in with the mob doesn’t drag his head out of the textbook. Jared tries to embellish the story to make it more than half an overheard conversation, but Jensen just says, “Jay, please,” in such a tired voice that Jared leaves him alone. He tries to read for English instead, but discovers that, for a book about adultery, The Scarlet Letter has very little sex in it. It’s disappointing.
***
They’re not quite the first people into the chapel for New Year’s service - Jensen pointed out that that might be suspicious - but they arrive ten minutes before the start time and Jensen has to pinch him so he’ll stop fidgeting. “You’re like a hyperactive four-year old,” Jensen hisses. “Calm down.”
Jared pinches him back. “Yeah, and you’re so mature.”
Jensen has just opened his mouth to reply when Chad slides into the pew next to them. “Wake me up when it’s over, man,” he sighs, leaning his head back against the bare wood backrest. “Next year I’m bringing a pillow.”
Sandy sits down next to Jensen. “As long as you don’t drool on my shoulder ever again, I think you should do it.”
“I did not…”
“You were asleep, jackass. And Jared has the pictures to prove it.”
Chad punches him in the arm. “Hey! What’s with everybody trying to hurt me today? Like you didn’t stick a spoon in my mouth when I fell asleep in the library last year and then email the pictures to everyone in our class.”
Jensen barks out a laugh before he catches himself and says quietly, “Do you think I could get copies of those?”
“I’m the person most capable of killing you in your sleep,” Jared tells him flatly.
“Don’t make me hit you too,” Sandy threatens, as more people filter into the chapel around them. Jared sinks down a little in his seat, trying to look oppressed. But inside he’s imagining the look on Principal Morgan’s face when he figures out what they’ve done.
He entertains himself through the “inspirational” speeches from a succession of the school’s oldest and most boring faculty by imagining all the triumphant making out he and Jensen are going to do when they get back to the room. He’s so distracted trying to hide his growing hard-on that Jensen has to nudge him to stand for the closing hymn, and Jared holds his breath as the piano starts up and everyone who’s still awake rustles through their hymnals. Or what they think are their hymnals.
The giggling starts at the back of the room, seems to radiate up like a wave, growing into a confused murmur that silences the warbling of the teachers in the front of the room. Principal Morgan stands up and strides to the podium. “What is the meaning of this?” he asks. Someone rushes up to hand him one of the switched books. Jared’s glad they sat close enough to see the color rising in Morgan’s face as he looks through the book. “Greatest Hits of Southern Rock?” he roars, shaking the book at them. Jared has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. “I demand to know who did this.”
“Play ‘Freebird!’” yells someone behind them, and Jared just loses it, laughing until there are tears in his eyes. Luckily he’s not the only one. Chad looks like he’s about to piss himself, and even Jensen is shaking with laughter, one hand over his eyes.
Morgan’s still talking, but no one can hear him over the roar, and eventually he gives up and starts ordering them all back to the dorms, other teachers herding them towards the door. Jared tucks a couple of the books in his bag just in case he ever needs them, and follows Jensen out under the (as always) disapproving eye of Mr. Manners. They don’t look each other in the eye until they’re back in their room, which is good because Jared doesn’t think he could keep the smug grin off his face if they did. Being confined to the dorm for the rest of the afternoon doesn’t seem like much of a punishment at all.
***
The first time Jared gives head, he thinks it’s a surprise to them both. Jensen has been a little shy all along, vaguely incredulous every time Jared flicks him a dirty note in history, or strips naked at the end of the day and spreads his hands in offering. Although he’s never said no to Jared’s hand down his pants, in general he doesn’t seem to expect much in the way of reciprocation. And Jared thinks that’s just wrong. Especially when Jensen comes back from a morning run all flushed and sweaty, smelling like the cold outside, and it’s a kind of provocation Jared can’t ignore. Jensen starts to take off his sweats, but Jared slides out of bed to do it for him, kissing every slick inch of Jensen’s skin as it’s revealed.
“I need a shower,” Jensen says dubiously, as Jared bites down on his shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise. “I stink.”
“After,” Jared tells him, and he tugs out the bow of the drawstring of Jen’s pants.
“After what?” Jensen asks, big, disingenuous grin on his face.
Jared leans in to suck the lobe of his ear. “After I suck you off. After you come in my mouth.” The words taste strange, unfamiliar, but Jensen shudders against him, closes his eyes, and it’s unbelievably hot. Without another word, Jared sinks to his knees.
“Christ, Jay, you’re unbelievable.” Jensen twists his fingers into Jared’s hair, and Jared can feel his hand shaking. His own heartbeat is loud in his ears. Jared pulls Jensen’s pants down and mouths at the shape of his dick through soft cotton boxers. Jensen makes a sharp, startled noise. He’s already hard. Nuzzling in closer, Jared can smell sweat and musk, Ivory soap and the flowery detergent Jensen’s mom bought for him.
He’s a little tentative, working Jensen’s boxers off his hips, and Jensen’s cock bobs up against his lips. Jared touches his tongue to the tip of it, and Jensen groans. “You and your big mouth,” says Jensen, and Jared sucks in the head of his dick. The hand in Jared’s hair fists tight in response.
It takes some getting used to, taking short little breaths through his nose, trying not to gag as Jensen sways closer. He knows he needs practice, ‘cause the drool isn’t exactly sexy, but Jesus Christ, the noises Jensen’s making are, so Jared keeps going, swirling his tongue around the swollen head of Jensen’s dick. Jared kneads Jensen’s hip, practically holding him up when his knees look like they’re about to buckle. He fucking loves that he can take Jensen apart like this. It’s only another minute before Jensen chokes out, “I’m gonna come,” and Jared holds on tight, swallowing around his dick. Jensen’s come is thick and heady, and Jared hopes Jen won’t be offended if Jared goes to brush his teeth after this.
Jensen doesn’t look like much of anything would offend him though. He sinks back onto Jared’s bed, his eyes glazed. “Fuck, Jay.”
“You thought I didn’t want to, didn’t you?” says Jared incredulously, wiping a hand across his mouth.
“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” shrugs Jensen.
Jared shuffles over, still on his knees, and looks up into Jensen’s face. “You’re such a girl sometimes, Jen.”
“You don’t get to say that after sucking my cock.”
Jared hoists himself up onto the bed and kisses him. His teeth can wait a minute.
***
“So,” says Sandy, and Jared can tell there’s something big that’s going to follow that ‘so’.
“So?” Jared replies. It’s freakishly warm and not even wet, and Jared’s sitting under a tree trying to forget that they’re predicting snow for the weekend. Fucking New England.
“You and Jensen,” she continues, and yeah, that’s just the sort of thing Jared doesn’t want to talk to Sandy about while sitting under a tree where anyone in the whole school could hear them.
“Can we discuss this someplace not here?”
“Coffee?” says Sandy, and Jared gets up and dusts himself off, because seriously, with everything that’s going on, he’s kind of sick of having no one to tell about it.
She takes his arm as they walk into town, and it reminds him of freshman year, when they were practically joined at the hip and went everywhere like this. Sandy beams up at him and he knows she’s thinking about it too.
The coffee shop is quiet, and the heat’s turned up too high because it’s the middle of January and it’s really supposed to be colder than fifty-five. Jared gets foam on his nose with the first sip of his vanilla latte, and Sandy wipes it off with her napkin, laughing. It’s not as though he regrets that things ended between them, but he knows his life would be very different if they hadn’t. Maybe not worse, either, just different. “So,” says Sandy again, and this time it’s obviously a cue for Jared to start talking.
“We’re doing stuff together,” says Jared vaguely, embarrassed now that Sandy’s eyes are on him. “It’s fun. I like him.”
“Jared, don’t make me drag it out of you. Have you talked about anything?”
They’ve talked about a lot of things, but that’s not what Sandy means. “No,” Jared says honestly. It’s not like they want to go out on dates and buy each other flowers; it’s not like Jared wants to start sentences with “My boyfriend says.”
Sandy’s eyebrows go up. “Are you going to?”
Jared considers it. “No.”
“So you’d feel just fine if he met somebody else and started making out with him everyday after class?”
Something twists sourly in Jared’s gut. He imagines Jensen kissing another guy, some faceless stranger, and it feels wrong. “No, I wouldn’t,” he admits.
“Do you think he feels the same way?”
“We’re guys, Sandy. You think we sit around talking about our feelings?”
She goes off on another tack straight away. “So, just what do you sit around doing?” she asks slyly.
Jared blushes hot, glances around the coffee shop where absolutely no one is looking at them, and then drops his eyes to the table. “Whatever,” he says, as if that’ll throw her off the scent.
“Still a virgin, Jay?” Sandy asks, and she sounds both amused and worried. He remembers their one failed attempt at sex, remembers all the things they’d done instead, the hot taste of her pussy on his tongue before they broke up the last time, a little like Jensen in his mouth, but still so different.
“Mostly,” he says, because if going down on her didn’t count, going down on Jensen shouldn’t. Jared is very into gender equality.
“Mostly?”
“I’m thinking of not being one anymore,” he offers. Jared knows it’s his God-given right as a sixteen-year-old boy to think about sex a lot, but he doesn’t know if daydreaming about fucking Jensen in the ass all the time is normal. He’s not even sure if Jensen would think it was normal. And it definitely doesn’t make pre-calc any easier.
“Uh-huh,” says Sandy, taking a sip of her mocha.
Jared furrows his brow. “What’s ‘uh-huh’ s’posed to mean?”
“Means I know how much you think about things you actually do. If you were going to do it, I think you would have done it already.” She taps a finger against her lips. “Unless you’re scared.”
“Shut up,” says Jared, too quickly. Because of course he’s scared, but he can’t tell Sandy something like that.
“You’re allowed to be scared, Jay,” she points out. “It’s not a big a deal if you are. You probably should be.”
“It’s not the sex,” Jared says. It’s like she’s picking him apart piece by piece, finding all the things he hasn’t said to anyone with perfect accuracy. “I don’t even know if I’m gay. I mean, I’m not. I’m not gay. But Jensen’s just… And I don’t want to have to explain it to my parents. Or anyone else.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I’m explaining it to you.”
“That’s only because I bought you coffee.”
Jared puts his hand over hers on the table. “Thanks.”
Sandy pulls her hand away. “You’re way too good a boyfriend, Jay. Don’t waste all that charm on me.”
Jared wants to say it’s not a waste, but she’s looking at the table and he thinks maybe it’s the wrong moment. They go back to school soon after that.
***
“Nice work, Padalecki,” says Mr. Rosenbaum, and Jared nods towards his desk as his creative nonfiction assignment is slapped down on it. He hasn’t looked his teacher in the face since November, and he thinks Mr. Rosenbaum is starting to notice. But at least Jared’s not snickering all the damn time like Chad is, slouching at the other side of the room and talking shit to Justin and James. All the desks are arranged in a circle to “encourage dialogue,” but mostly it means Jared ends up watching Chad scratching his balls for an hour everyday, since he won’t look up anymore.
Jared takes his essay, and flips through it, looking at Mr. Rosenbaum’s encouraging comments in the margins. They had been assigned to write about an event that had changed their worldview, and Jared had written about the day he broke his arm falling out of a tree, and realizing he wasn’t invulnerable. But there are other life-changing things going on these days, and he wonders if maybe he should have picked something different.
“Padalecki, hang around for a minute,” Mr. Rosenbaum says when the bell rings. Jared pauses in hastily shoving his notebook into his bag, grimacing as Rosenbaum walks up behind him, arms folded. “Is there something going on I should know about, Padalecki?”
“No, sir,” says Jared, staring at his shoes.
“You haven’t raised your hand in class in weeks, and yet you keep turning in good work. It’s unnatural. I’m looking into infiltration by an alien force.”
Jared jerks his head up for a second, offers a tight smile. “No aliens, sir. I think I would know.”
“Jared, I know there have been some weird rumors going around the school about me this year, and I understand if you’re uncomfortable, but you can’t let it drag you down in class. You’re here for school, not far-fetched stories about my personal life. You’re a good kid, and you need to get your shit together and act like it. Class participation is almost as important as what you write here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
Jared wants to ask if the rumors are true, if Mr. Rosenbaum really wrote that story he and Jensen read together, the one he keeps under his mattress now, smudged and come-stained; Jared wants to ask whether he knew he was gay in high school, if he was confused and unsure of everything. “I’ll do better,” Jared tells him sincerely because he can’t say the rest. He chances a look at Rosenbaum’s face, sees concern there like he’s never seen in class.
“I spend lunch periods in my classroom,” Rosenbaum says. “Maybe you should come see me sometime.” He turns back towards his desk and Jared is left standing dumbly with two minutes left to get to math.
***
Jensen’s not all that into cuddling, which is a shame, but Jared’s pretty much accepted it. Which is why it’s a surprise when Jensen crawls into bed with him at two in the morning, cold toes and all, and starts kissing down the side of Jared’s neck, working a hand into his boxers. Jared’s not complaining though (well, maybe about the toes) and he bends to cover Jensen’s mouth with his. He feels his way into Jensen’s clothes, works his t-shirt up his back and slides his fingers over smooth skin.
Jared’s breath catches as Jensen’s clever fingers wrap around his dick and start to stroke. He can see the movement of it beneath the blanket, the quick up-and-down of Jensen touching him. He pushes one leg in between Jensen’s to return the favor.
“What was that for?” Jared asks when they’ve both come, and Jensen is lying against his chest, legs curved against Jared’s.
Jensen’s breathing is deep and even, and Jared wonders if he’s asleep, figures he probably shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth anyway, and has nearly fallen asleep himself when Jensen finally says, “Was dreaming about you.”
Jared laughs in disbelief. “Some dream.”
“Yeah,” Jensen agrees, then curls one hand against Jared’s belly and goes to sleep. When Jared wakes up in the morning, Jensen’s in his own bed again, just like nothing happened.
“You kick like a dog,” Jensen says, instead of “good morning,” and that’s the only confirmation Jared has that any of it was real.
“Sorry,” he says cheerfully.
“Liar.”
“Look, you were the one that had the dream and went looking for a warm body.” Jared gets out of his own bed to pile onto Jensen’s, nearly smothering him. “Not my fault I didn’t meet your specifications.”
“You’re such a freak, Jay,” says Jensen, which is something he says a lot, and every time he does, it sounds more like an endearment. He doesn’t tell Jared to get off his bed either, so Jared cups his face and kisses him.
“What were you dreaming about?” Jared asks, finally pulling away.
Jensen goes bright red behind his freckles. “None of your business.” He fumbles for his glasses on the desk behind him, and tries to sit up, but Jared keeps him pinned. “Seriously, Jay, we’re going to be late for assembly. Get up.”
“It was about me?” he asks, sucking gently at the side of Jensen’s neck. Jensen groans, and his hips give a little questing jerk towards Jared’s. “Come on, you can tell me. What were we doing?” He reaches down to grab at Jensen’s dick through the blankets, and he’s not sure if it’s that or the words that make Jensen push abruptly away.
“No,” Jensen says firmly, gripping Jared’s wrist to keep him from sliding off the bed altogether. Considerate. But not talking. Jared gets up and goes to shower, and by the time they’re both heading off to class, everything’s back to normal. Except that all day, in the back of his head, Jared’s wondering what kinky thing Jensen could’ve been dreaming about.
Part III