J2 | Gossip Guy | NC-17 (1/2)
Title: Gossip Guy
Words: ~14,000
Rating/Warnings: NC-17/teen sex - both boys are about 16-17, language
Summary: American Journalist Walter Winchell said “Today’s gossip is tomorrow’s headline”, and nothing could be truer for Jensen Ackles. As he seeks the job as Editor-in-Chief of his high school paper, Jensen has to spend time covering the swim team, where star Jared Padalecki (and Jensen’s current enemy) serves as captain. Over time, they get to know one another and see past the hatred, but a new item in The Austonian drudges up Jensen’s past for spreading good gossip.
Notes: Written as part of spn_j2_xmas for keep_waking_up, in line with her prompts for hatesex and angsty artsy HS AU. I kind of mashed the two together and this came out. A hundred sorries (like Jared) for being so late! The story got away from me and I wanted to see it through. Happy holidays!
And big thanks to all_the_damned, fiercelynormal, and one_2_3_4 for helping to beta and brainstorm in the final days <333
On AO3
On paper, Jensen hates Jared Padalecki. The Austonian says so, in the thinnest of margins so it’s not outright obvious to the rest of Austin High. But it’s there all the same. Jensen makes sure of it every time he looks over the newest edition.
“Really?” Danneel asks, looking up from the newest draft that’s set for print by 4 PM today.
“What?” Jensen asks innocently, even when he knows what she’s referencing. He glances at the page she’s holding up and makes a faux-impressed face. “Yeah, the swimming team is gearing up to face Lewis. Tom said Coach thinks they’ve got a real shot.”
It’s exactly what Jensen wrote yesterday and the same theme Coach Stuart relayed when Tom interviewed him on Monday. So Jensen shrugs with a lopsided smile, holding it firm when Danneel shoots him a dead-eyed stare.
Danneel stands up from her desk and holds the paper right in front of Jensen’s face. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” She runs her finger down to left side of second paragraph of the story.
It’s not hard for Jensen to spot what she’s going after. He put it there after all. While editing Tom’s story, he made sure that the left side of that paragraph was written so perfectly that the first letter of each line vertically spells Padalecki sucks.
She sighs and Jensen shrugs with a bit of a smile. “You’re so mature.”
“I just followed what Tom gave me.”
Another sigh, Danneel drops the copy to her desk and leans back in her chair. Rocking slightly. In judgement. “You’re terrible at sports.”
“Uh, excuse me, I’m an All-State athlete.”
“In track. Which you probably excel at because you spent half your childhood running away from your sister.”
“It was my brother,” Jensen huffs, “thank you very much.”
“Either way, you’re terrible at writing them.”
“I’m wonderful at writing everything. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be the assistant editor.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were baiting him.”
Jensen classically rolls his eyes and marches over to the far counter where the rest of the newest edition is spread out, pages filled to the brim with text and photos. “Who, Coach? Totally not my type. Besides, I have better things to do.”
“Oh really?” she deadpans. “Like what? Please do share.”
With pointed fingers and careful touches, Jensen rights the whole midsection so the pages are aligned at the top and perfectly set just a hair beside each other. “Mr. Omundson is selecting the new editor-in-chief by the end of the month.”
That gets her attention, and she shoots up from her seat and is next to Jensen in a flash. “What about Amell?”
“Teacher’s pet? Well, I heard he tried a wee bit too hard to get close to Ms. Huffman so she turned his ass into the Dean’s Office.”
Danneel leans in even closer, “And where’d you hear that?”
“I have my ways.”
“Who?”
“A journalist never reveals his source.”
She narrows her eyes and for a brief second, Jensen anticipates a full swath of feminist hatred.
“Or her source.”
+
Jared glides through water. The surface breaking around his lean lines. His strong arms drive forward and down, propelling him towards the wall. He keeps count and flips on time, tucking his growing body in and pushing off the wall to start another lap.
There’s little sound around him because the water floods his ears and the swoosh-swoosh of his strokes runs like a metronome as he counts to the next wall.
Coach’s shrill whistle stops him just before he flips at the wall. Jared reaches out for the top of sky blue tile to pull himself up and sit at the edge of the pool.
“Padalecki!” Coach Stuart shouts. “You’re far too early.”
Jared tugs his cap off and shakes out damp hair. “Better than far too late, sir.”
“You’ll tire yourself out.”
“I’m trying to build myself up.” He smirks with what he knows is his best childish enthusiasm and charm. “Stamina and all that.”
Coach waves him off and returns to the office just beyond the big pane of glass on the other side of the room. He looks out onto the pool, and Jared offers a quick wave and holds that playful smirk in place.
“Stamina, my ass.”
“Shut up, Chad,” Jared replies without moving. He knows his supposed best friend (forever) is off to the right, casually hanging out on the bleachers and not doing anything useful.
“You’re just hiding in here because you’re afraid to see what Ass-les wrote about you this week.” Chad punctuates his point by flipping a page over in the latest edition of the Austonian and rattling the paper in his hands.
“And you’re hiding in here because you’re afraid Sophia will kick your ass if she sees your ugly face.”
Chad smacks the paper down beside him on the bench. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m the equipment manager.”
“And how many times do we have to tell you? There is no equipment in swimming.” Jared laughs shortly and shrugs. “What’re you gonna do? Hold our Speedos?”
Quite seriously, as if with great honor, Chad holds his head up. “I would if you asked me to.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“At least I’m not on a douche.”
Jared sighs and briefly shuts his eyes, remembering the typos that littered Jensen Ackles’ last story on the swimming team. ‘Accidentally,’ Ackles had insisted, all while smiling that dumb smooth smile of his with his dumb big eyes wide and faking any kind of dumb emotion. “That’s not what it said!” he argues, because he has yet to come up with anything better when discussing that article.
“You’re right. It didn’t say anything. You had to read it.”
“Shut up, Chad.”
“And it read like you use your mama’s douche to clean out your-”
“SHUT UP, CHAD!”
“Ladies!” Coach yells at them from the other side of the glass, all muffled and squeaky. “The only fighting in my pool is in the pool.”
“Okay, fine,” Chad agrees. He rises and marches along the bleachers to the stairwell that brings him down to pool level, tearing off his hoodie, shirt, and belt along the way.
Jared coolly stands and waits for Chad’s arrival, at which point he easily shifts to his right then shoves Chad right into the water.
At that time, the rest of the team files into the pool area with laughter slowly growing among them as they take in the scene of Chad flailing around in the water like a drowning squirrel.
“Alright, ladies, enough!” Coach shouts as he joins them at the side of the pool Chad attempts to paddle towards. Strength and gravitas fill Coach’s voice when he chides, “Murray, I’d say you didn’t deserve this, but you absolutely did.”
“Yes, sir,” Chad answers on automatic, even while still fighting the water.
“Help him out, fellas, then let’s get going. You all have some skin to flip!”
Jared and a few others help Chad out of the pool, all chuckling at the sad state of the guy. He starfishes out on the blue and white tile, jeans darkly drenched and sticking to every angle of his hips and legs. Jared perhaps sees a bit more of his friend than he’d like and leaves Chad right where he is to start practice and forget about this whole charade and that stupid newspaper and the even stupider guy who writes for it.
+
Jensen proudly steps up onto the Arts Editor’s chair and then atop the guy’s desk, worn-out black boots scuffing old drafts and planting him in place so he can strike his pose. Feet shoulder-width apart and his arms firmly crossed over his chest, Jensen smiles down at the Austonian’s staff. “It is finally time,” he starts with great cadence, “to stand up for what is ours, to reach out with our strong hands and grip tight what is ours.”
“Yeah!” a few people call out. Mostly just the folks who hang out after school and help them distribute each edition. And that dumb graphic artist kid whose name Jensen can’t be bothered to learn.
Jensen punches his hand through the air. “And we need to put our arms around this great paper of ours and care for it like we would our children!”
“We don’t have any children,” Felicia points out.
“Yeah, we’re in high school?” Danneel adds on.
He grimaces at them, but attempts to complete his speech with a rousing ending. “And will you fight for our paper? Fight, and we may all die. Run, and the paper will live, at least for a little while. And years from now, when we’re off at college-” he catches that other moron Adam in the far corner, with his gleeful smile that betrays how terrible he is at proofing their stories, “or at the 7-11, would you be willing to trade all the days that have passed for the one chance to look back and tell everyone that they may take our paper, but they’ll never take our writing?!”
“Who’s taking the paper?” Tom asks from his desk just off to the side. He swings his chair back and forth in tiny movements, crossing his arms, and staring up at Jensen.
It’s unnerving, quite frankly, so Jensen looks out to the crowd gathered across the newspaper’s office and waits for someone else to speak up. Unfortunately, that someone is Felicia, with a hundred pounds of anxiety.
“Is someone taking the paper? Are they closing us down? What will we do?”
“No one’s closing down the paper,” he insists quickly.
“But you just said-”
“Yeah, I know, but-”
“Why would you say someone’s taking the paper?” Tom asks, calm as ever.
Jensen turns to answer him, but can’t get a full sentence out before everyone is now shouting out their worries over the state of the paper. “No one’s taking the paper!” Jensen yells. “It was just allegory.”
“Al and who?” Adam asks, squinted eyes and all.
“Alle-nevermind.” Jensen waves the stupid freshman off and brings his attention back to the crowd. “I was just trying to rouse everyone up! Get spirits going and build camaraderie!”
“Come-what now?” Tom asks, then smirks when Jensen tries to correct him.
“You’re an asshole,” he tells Tom, then faces the staff again. “Look, it just seems like some of the stories lately have been a little … well, um, slow. And maybe the writing is a little … how do I put this?”
“Stale?” Danneel offers. “Boring? Terrible?”
Jensen’s a bit nervous to agree with her, at least out loud. His whole point here was to strike a new fire within the writers and artists to energize the Austonian, to revive the content and layout, and make a point to Mr. Omundson that Jensen is the great leader this paper needs. The brand new Editor-in-Chief.
“I wouldn’t say all those things,” Jensen tries.
But to no benefit because Felicia is now ultra-focused on the topic. “You think the paper is boring?” she asks with sunken eyes and a crooked yet adorable frown. “Is no one reading it anymore? Are they firing staff?”
That gets the crowd going and Jensen has to whistle through his fingers to get them all to calm down. “No one is getting fired! I mean, no one is even getting paid, so it’s kind of hard to get fired.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Danneel mumbles.
“Not helping,” he sighs at her while the angry staff grow even angrier. And worried, in the case of Felicia and Genevieve, who are now anxiously clutching at one another while contemplating the fates of their journalism future.
In the middle of it all, Jensen spots Jared Padalecki at the open doorway, assessing the scene. It takes just a second to groan and roll his eyes in annoyance at the guy’s presence, then a few more to jump off the desk and exit the room, tugging Jared far away from the Austonian’s office.
“What are you doing here?” Jensen complains.
Jared makes a face at Jensen then at the still-open door where plenty of noise floats out.
Jensen suddenly worries what kind of mess Mr. Omundson would find if he journeys over. But it’s well past five, meaning their advisor is likely on his third hot toddy and can‘t be bothered from the grand leather chaise in the literature and arts office further down the hall.
“What are you doing in there?” Jared asks.
“I was energizing the forces.”
“Looks like it worked.”
Sighing, Jensen slumps a bit. “I was hoping for a completely different direction.” Then he stands up straight and backhands Jared’s shoulder. “What’re you bothering me for anyway?”
Jared takes his turn to smack Jensen, using the latest edition to cover Jensen’s face. “The Gossip Tab.”
“I don’t write gossip.”
“It says an Olympic-bound swimmer was caught stealing porn and cigarettes from Williams’ Liquors.”
Swatting the paper down, Jensen chuckles a little, yet a lot guilty. “That could be anyone, really.” When Jared glares at him, Jensen’s attitude flips into cynicism. “Oh, and like you’re the only swimmer in the whole school? Must think a lot about yourself if you’re calling yourself Olympic bound.”
“Why would you write this?”
Jensen is overcome by a tiny twinge of remorse at the sight of Jared’s poor face looking annoyed and sad all at once. Still, he must keep up all appearances of dislike, and so he lies. “I didn’t.”
“Who else would?”
“Danneel’s name is on the column.”
“Does she really write it?”
Jensen quickly offers, “Or any number of staff back in that office?”
“Stealing porn and cigarettes” Jared repeats. “What’m I supposed to tell my coach, or my teammates. Hell, my mother?”
“Wouldn’t they be impressed?”
“Not likely!” Jared sags back against the wall, clutching at the thick strap of his equipment bag, and Jensen belatedly realizes that the guy is decked out in his full swim team gear. Bright blue soft fabric with the zipper pulled down partway and revealing the line of his v-neck shirt, a light shine down his neck from his post-practice shower …
Jensen wants to smack himself for losing his train of thought, especially right now, while dealing with Padalecki of all people.
“And you said they were Virginia Slims,” Jared whines, “Just freaking embarrassing, man.”
“What? Like you wanna be a Marlboro Man instead?”
“That’d be a lil cooler, right?” Seconds later, Jared seems lost in a daydream as he mumbles about cowboys and horses, boots and saddles.
Jensen tries to avoid following Jared down that train of thought. The star swimmer has certainly grown up and filled out over summer, bringing him more fame and success as the season wears on because his speed has increased tenfold and his spins are tighter and stronger than ever …
Or so Coach told Tom, who told Jensen, who had to look through hundreds of snapshots that Mike got when they first visited the team in the preseason.
And so maybe at that point, when Jensen saw Jared in all of his growing glory and bright crooked smile, Jensen felt the familiar jolt of his long-hidden crush. Last year, Jensen had paid attention to the swim team and insisted Jared was the real deal, but when the then-sophomore failed to finish anywhere respectable at Regionals, many at the paper shot back at Jensen for being so loud about Jared’s future.
It was then that Jensen decided to turn his loudness around and focus on how terrible the newly fantastic swimmer was. Or could be, since it appeared Jared was a pretty regular person without a problem in the world; except for Jensen.
Jensen doesn’t exactly hate Jared. Not really. Or at all. He just hates how he feels about him and it comes out in Jensen’s typical sardonic humor that’s more about ragging on people than showing them real emotion.
“So is that what you want?” Jensen asks. “For me to rewrite it with a cooler cigarette?”
“So you did write it.”
“Uh, no,” he lies again. “That’s Dee’s column.”
Jared frowns and shakes his head. “I knew you did it. But I never expected you to blame Danneel.”
The disappointment in Jared’s tone hits Jensen in the gut. He stumbles a step back, as if physically hit and tries to defend with a lame, “No, not like that, I didn’t mean-”
“But I guess you’re not really known for being a nice guy, anyway.”
Another few steps back and now there’s plenty of room for Jared to slip out of the area and the conversation.
Jensen dumbly stands there and watches Jared grow smaller as he walks farther and farther. He spins back to the office and smacks right into Danneel, who’s now looking down the hallway to where Jared disappeared.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re pouting,” she points out with a no-bull-shit kind of tone. “What happened?”
“Nothing. It’s just …”
“Just what?”
Jensen looks over his shoulder with guilt. Somehow, having Jared disappointed in him and saying he’s not a nice guy hurts more than any kind of bickering and fighting he had anticipated to come from the swimmer.
Before he can answer, Danneel nudges him while staring right into his eyes with ferocious energy. “What did he say? Did he threaten you? Do I have to beat him up?”
“Down, girl,” Jensen insists, putting her at arm’s length. He smiles a little; at least Dee’s got his back. “Quite the opposite. Whined and complained about your latest gossip column.”
“You mean your column.”
“Yeah, but, it’s your name on it,” he quickly argues.
Now Danneel crosses her arms at her chest and cocks her hips to the side. “Because you’re too big a baby to admit you’re a giant gossip whore.”
Jensen shushes her with a hand over her mouth. “You’re gonna blow my cover.”
She bites into the meat of his palm, making him yelp and jump away. “It’s the worst kept secret in the whole school.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Are you kidding me right now? The only worse secret ever is Jared being gay.”
Now Jensen furrows his brow then scoffs at her. “No way is that body gay.”
“Gayer than you, darling.”
“Impossible.”
Danneel smirks proudly. “I know, who’d have thought a swimmer could be gayer than a gossip rag.”
He narrows his eyes and tilts his head in anger. “You watch it missy, or I’ll put you in the proofreading queue.”
“Oh, no,” she deadpans as she heads back to the office. “You’re threatening my non-paying job.”
“My friendship is your payment!” Jensen yells after her, but it doesn’t mean much. Not to her, or the rest of the paper, and definitely does little to raise his spirits after the run-in with Jared.
+
In fourth period gym, Jared finds himself facing off with Jensen on the other side of a volleyball net.
In the large field house, teams from multiple classes make their rounds in short scrimmages then move onto the next court. Unfortunately, when Jared shuffles to the front of the court and finds Jensen staring back at him, he’s startled and annoyed to be faced with this moron.
Jared’s team takes accepts the first serve, volleying it once then twice over to Jared for a swing, but the ball just smacks him in the back of the head as he’s still distracted by Jensen. He curses and holds the side of his head as classmates laugh while only one or two girls on his team check on him. He insists he’s good and tells them all to stop fussing, but he’s anything but okay.
He’s already aggravated by Jensen Ackles’ existence and position in the Austonian, where Jared is continually harassed in print. And now he can blame the guy for being smacked in the ear by a dumb volleyball.
Okay, maybe he can’t really do that, but he will.
“Jackass,” he mutters while glaring at Jensen.
“Are you okay?” Jensen asks, but it’s said so flat and low that it’s not like he means it.
“Like you care.”
Jensen rolls his eyes then turns his attention to the game, which Jared decides to do as well because now he just wants to beat Jensen’s team.
It’s all in the name of friendly competition and all that. Not childish resentment.
Over the course of the next few volleys, Jared notices that Jensen’s actually quite good. His thin yet curved legs are quick to move him to the exact spot to save a wayward ball, his fair-skinned arms align perfectly for each bump, and his entire body leaps up high as he swings for an effective and swift spike right down the middle of Jared’s side so no one can recover it.
The volley runs perfectly once more and Jared is slow in his moves as he watches the ball hop around Jensen’s side of the net. His attention is steady on Jensen lifting up to spike another perfect bump. So steady, in fact, that he loses track of the ball or Jensen’s intended aim and gets whacked right in the nose.
Next Jared knows, he’s on the ground and his face is wet. Students circle him without touching and their looks of horror and a few not-so-subtle points towards his head tells him he’s bleeding.
A whistle blows sharply before the crowd parts to let Coach Beaver assess the scene. “Jesus Christ, Padalecki, what’d you do?”
“Nuttin,” Jared mumbles, now pinching his nose to hold off the bleeding, “Jensen did it.”
“Ackles!” Coach bellows with the crowd parting again to show Jensen meekly watching from outside the ring of bystanders. “You nailed this kid?”
“No. I mean, not personally,” Jensen pathetically argues. “I nailed him with the ball.”
Coach chuckles, “Nice aim, kid,” then insists Jensen’s immediate punishment is to escort Jared to the school nurse. “And you can help him off the floor while you’re at it.”
Jensen does as he’s told, and Jared does his best to remain calm in the face of his enemy. Though he does angrily wrench his arm away from Jensen when being guided out of the field house, and keeps a good distance between them in the hall.
Once at the medical office, Nurse Smith smiles at them with a hint of judgement hiding beneath the surface. “And what happened here?”
“Jensen smacked me in the face,” Jared says automatically.
“It was an accident,” Jensen instantly defends. “I told you that like ten times on the way here.”
Jared scowls at him. “Make it twenty and we’re even.”
“Fine. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor-”
“Alright, boys!” Nurse Smith coddles Jared as she motions him further into her office. “We’ll get you all patched up while Mr. Ackles heads to the Dean, okay?”
Over his shoulder, Jared sticks his tongue out at Jensen, who gives him the finger in return.
+
In a cruel twist of fate, Tom gets mono. He misses school for two straight weeks, including his beat covering the swim team.
Jensen would actually prefer to poke his eyes out and put Adam on the schedule than cover it himself. No matter how many errors that numbskull would make, Jensen would rather spend the time correcting every typo than face Jared.
Jared, who couldn’t take an accident for what it was and instead ratted Jensen out to Nurse Smith, who sent Jensen to Dean Ferris, who doled out a Saturday detention to Jensen, who couldn’t keep his mouth shut when arguing about his perfect behavioral record, which was then blemished with Dean Ferris issuing an in-school suspension and a week of detention for talking back.
To add insult to injury, Mr. Omundson makes it obvious that Jensen should take over Tom’s responsibilities in addition to his regular entertainment section.
There’s no time left in Jensen’s schedule at this point.
With great gravitas, their advisor lifts his arm in the air and recites with a proper English accent, “A good leader takes a little more than his share of the blame, a little less than his share of the credit.”
Jensen turns in place to face Danneel settled at her chair with her feet up on the desk and eyes also widened in confusion.
“Arnold Glasow said it. He was a great humorist, ahead of his time,” Mr. Omundson adds. “He also said, ‘Success isn't a result of spontaneous combustion. You must set yourself on fire.’”
“You’re not actually …” Jensen actually imagines being lit aflame. “Are you asking me to set myself on fire?”
“Jensen, my dear boy,” Mr. Omundson says as he wraps an arm around Jensen’s shoulders and shucks him around. “Don’t find fault, find a remedy.”
Jensen looks to Danneel again, and they both remain clueless to their advisor’s point. More confused than ever by the eccentric man.
“Henry Ford.”
He stares at Mr. Omundson then backs away when the man sighs and drops his arm.
“Egads, do you children know nothing about the fine spirits of our world?”
“No, I know who Henry Ford is …” Jensen flips his hands over as he fights for the right way to explain that, “I just don’t … well … understand your point.”
“My point is that sometimes a leader must act against his senses and do the unthinkable.” Mr. Omundson pulls him around to face with a heavy grip on Jensen’s shoulders. “Jensen, you must cover the swim team.”
“No, c’mon, you don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“That I … he … we don’t … I can’t …”
“Jensen?” Mr. Omundson asks slowly. “The great Walt Disney once said ‘The only way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing.’”
Jensen sighs as he anticipates the next move.
Mr. Omundson shoves him towards the door as he ruefully says, “Great Walt also said ‘There’s nothing funnier than the human animal.’”
“It’s not funny,” he argues. “And I’m not an animal.”
“Ahh, but you are human.”
+
Jared races through his last lap, reaching for the wall with well-timed precision before breaking the water to look up to the friendly competition around him. The entire team has finished before him and is obviously a bit bored waiting for him.
Aldis, Tamoh, and Matt sit up on the edge of the pool with their goggles slung down around their necks. Each stare at him with matching expressions of bewilderment, and maybe skepticism, for him finishing dead last. Before the silence carries on too long, Coach Stuart blows his whistle and shakes his head.
“Alright ladies, hit the showers.” The whole crew gathers any left-behind items then heads for the locker room. Just before Jared can escape the shame of what happened, Coach stops him, “Padalecki. One minute.”
Jared spins in place and decides to face it like a man, albeit it one with a busted nose and two round bruises dulling his cheeks. “Yes, sir?”
Coach stands tall and rests his hands on his hips. “First to last is a mighty quick fall. Like a stone in water, one might say.”
He nods in return, lost on how to excuse himself from such a poor performance.
“Care to explain?”
Jared shifts his sights just over Coach’s shoulder. “Not really.”
“Try again.”
“Not really, sir?”
Coach sighs then drops his head to stare more directly at Jared. “You get into a fight or something?”
“Something like that.”
“With who?”
“Or what,” Chad offers from a bench far in the corner.
“He has the worst timing,” Jared mutters.
“Excuse me, son. Who are you?” Coach yells across the pool.
“Murray, Chad Murray. And Michael. I’m your equipment manager.”
Coach looks at Jared. “We have an equipment manager?”
“Not really,” he replies, yet is thankful the subject has changed.
Not for long, however, because Chad pipes up, “Jared got in a fight with a volleyball.”
“A volleyball?” Coach repeats.
“Yep! A volleyball. Fourth period gym. Jensen Ackles has a mean spike.”
“Shut up, Chad!” Jared yells.
Coach tuts as he nods. “So a volleyball wrecked your face and your ego. Is that how it is, Padalecki?”
“No, sir. It just … it hurts. To breathe.”
“Hmm, well you ice it down a bit tonight and maybe you’ll be okay for tomorrow’s match.” He pats Jared’s cheek, which hurts enough that Jared has to hiss through the pain. “Take care of yourself, son. Get yourself a hockey mask or something.”
“For volleyball?” Chad asks. “That’s funny, coach.”
“Murray, was it?”
“Yes, sir,” Chad answers eagerly, smiling and hustling over to them.
“Get the hell out of my pool,” Coach demands, and Chad quickly turns on his toe to escape the area. “He a friend of yours?”
Jared tries to avoid Coach’s critical look. “Not really.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
With a nod, Jared salutes Coach then heads to the locker room. After a shower and fresh clothes, he thinks the worst of today is over. But then the rest of the team sends him odd glances as they all get their things out of their lockers and talk about going to see a movie.
“Should we ask him?” he hears Matt ask.
“Dude, we’re going to 3D,” Aldis points out. “The glasses’ll hurt his face.”
“Your face hurts my face,” Jared mumbles, but otherwise doesn’t pay attention to them. He waits until he’s left alone to pack his bag and pull on his swim team sweat suit.
He’s exiting the locker room and pulling at the zipper of his sweat jacket when he runs right into Jensen and huffs. “Great, my day just got even better.”
“Oh, wow.” Jensen can’t take his eyes off Jared’s face; more specifically, he’s seems quite distracted by the mess of bruising and harsh red splotches under Jared’s nose. “You look terrible.”
“Not helping,” he grumbles then tries to step around Jensen, walking faster when the writer-or hack, really-tries to keep up.
“No, I mean, it. It looks bad. Like, all the bruising and your face and-”
Jared stops short and pulls a fist. “I will pay you back right now.”
“No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” Jensen rushes with his hands up in defense. “You look fine. Totally fine. Very fine. But not like super fine. Not like that kind of fine.”
His fist remains in the air, but Jared only blinks in return to the crazed ramblings.
“I’ll just shut up now,” he whispers while dropping his head.
Jared laughs a little, trying to not be too amused by Jensen. To witness Jensen unhinged and awkward is kind of like revenge and Jared is pleased that Jensen is acting like this. And a bit endearing, maybe. If Jared thought of Jensen Ackles as anything other than a soulless douche bucket.
“So what do you want?” Jared asks, getting to the point that Jensen was waiting for him just outside the locker room. “Just coming to say sorry again?”
“No, nothing like that.” When Jared glares, Jensen bites the corner of his mouth. “I mean, yes of course. Have I told you I’m sorry yet?”
“About fifteen times.”
“Well how’s about sixteen?”
Jared sighs and marches forward because he’s pretty damn hungry after the five extra relays Coach gave them in anticipation of tomorrow’s meet. He’d like to be home and eating mama’s homemade biscuits rather than wasting time with Jensen Ackles. “What do you really want?”
“So, funny thing. You know Tom Welling?”
“Yeah, I do. What’s so funny about that?”
“No, that’s not the funny part. The funny part is that he got mono.”
“That’s not funny. That’s kind of terrible.”
“Well, yeah,” Jensen tries, yet fails to sound bad for the kid. “But kind of funny, too. I mean, Genevieve was just out with mono, and now he is, too, yet he won’t tell Katie.”
Jared slows down and glances at Jensen because that’s totally not what he heard around the locker room. “I thought he was cheating on Genevieve?”
“Oh, no. Definitely cheating on Katie. And on Felicia, come to think of it.”
“Felicia? From your paper?”
Jensen’s eyes wide and his voice rises with excitement to share his knowledge. “Yeah, they’ve been on the quiet for ages. But don’t tell anyone. It’s totally on the down low.”
“It can’t be on the down low if you’re openly telling me,” Jared points out with a raised eyebrow. “And you’re so obviously outing yourself as writing the Gossip Tab, meaning you definitely were the one who said I stole Virginia Slims and porn from Williams.”
Jensen goes silent again and bites the other corner of his mouth, which should not spin Jared’s stomach or make his palms all clammy. After all, they totally hate each other. “Uh, okay, so maybe that was me. But I mean, sometimes, we don’t have a lot of good stuff to share, so I just kind of make it up.”
Rolling his eyes, Jared gets back to leaving school. “Thanks for that,” he complains. “And then you went ahead and smashed my face in with a killer spike. You’re really making my life easy.”
“I’m really sorry,” Jensen insists. Then cracks a small smile. “That’s seventeen.”
Jared sucks at the inside of cheek so he doesn’t smile at how that was kind of adorable. “Is that why you followed me here? To count how many times you can say you’re sorry?”
“No, see, the funny thing about Tom is that he’s also our Sports Editor and now that he’s out with mono, I have to cover his teams. Which means your team.”
“I like Tom,” Jared says plainly as he fights through his real emotions to the news. Including the want to whine and throw his arms in the air because right now? Adding Jensen Ackles to his daily routine? His life really fucking sucks. “I don’t like you. I don’t want to deal with you.”
“I know. I get it. I really do. I don’t want to deal with you, either.”
“Wow. That’s not any better.”
“I’m sorry.” After a beat, Jensen adds, “Eighteen.”
Jared can’t manage to hide his smile this time, which elicits one from Jensen as well. “Alright, fine. But not until tomorrow, before our meet. I’m already running late for dinner after Coach reamed me out for this,” and Jared waves his finger near his face and the mess that Jensen put there with one perfectly-aimed spike.
“I’m sorry. Really sorry.” Then Jensen smirks. “Nineteen and Twenty.”
“Get out of my face,” Jared insists as he playfully shoves Jensen away.
+
Following his after-school suspension, Jensen races to the Austonian office to check in with the staff and finds it mostly empty.
“Where is everyone?” he shouts to the bare room, and apparently Genevieve, who pops her head up from behind Felicia’s desk.
Followed by Felicia, all pink-cheeked and wide eyed. “Oh, hey, Jensen, didn’t know anyone else was here. When’d you get back?”
Jensen looks between Felicia and Genevieve, repeatedly, while failing to come up with anything to say other than, “Uh, what?”
“Uh, what, what?” Felicia asks as both girls stand and fuss with their disheveled clothes.
“Wow, I had no idea. I thought that … well, you and Tom were, well, you know … and then this … and I wouldn’t have thought …”
Genevieve’s eyes narrow as she assesses Jensen. “You are really terrible at the English language, huh?”
“I just have to write it, not speak it.” Jensen huffs then waves off the whole notion. “Not the point. You are the point. You’re supposed to be with Tom!”
“Uh, I’m totally not,” Felicia insists.
He turns to Genevieve, who continues to stare in judgement. “And I thought Tom was cheating with you.”
“Uh, no, you’re way off,” Genevieve answers with a smug smile.
“But my sources …”
“Are totally wrong, because it’s been me and Felicia this whole time.”
Jensen looks off in the distance and mumbles, “I feel so disconnected from the world.” He’s further reminded of how wrong he’s been on that love triangle when Felicia clutches at Genevieve’s hand and wraps her other hand around Genevieve’s wrist. Felicia appears terrified and yet strongly holds onto her … girlfriend’s … hand as the petite Genevieve stands firmly in place with her head held high.
He smiles at the adorable portrait they make then curses at the beeping of his phone. It’s a reminder to visit tonight’s swim meet so all he can do is wave off the girls with a quick reminder to not make out in a school-sponsored office.
“Janitor’s closet!” Jensen hears Genevieve insist as he leaves. He races through the hall and down a flight of stairs until he reaches the locker rooms then rushes inside and is halted by Jared standing alone with only his speedo covering anything up. “Oh wow,” he murmurs without thinking before slapping a hand over his mouth.
“What?” Jared harps and slams his locker door shut. “What now?”
“I, uh, well, I’m sorry?” he finally spits out. His brain can’t comprehend much at all beyond the blessedly tan skin stretched over growing muscles that are on display right now. Jensen adjusts his jeans, clears his throat, and tries to look away. But he can’t; he sneaks another few glances as Jared walks to him.
“Yeah, like sorry’s gonna cut it when Coach decides to bench me?”
“Benched you?”
“Yeah, because I can barely breathe through this dumb broken nose.”
Jensen feels his voice squeak when he asks, “It’s broken?” then tries to recover by clearing his throat again and saying, “I didn’t know it was broken.”
“Okay, it’s not really broken.” Jared backs down, yet still seems aggravated. “But it feels like it. And breathing underwater is next to impossible, all because you had to hit me with a volleyball.”
“It was an accident, I swear.” Jensen wholeheartedly believes it and wishes Jared would believe it, too. But he’s fairly positive it’s not convincing when he avoids Jared’s face, or neck, or ripped torso, or finely sculpted thighs.
“What’s your problem with me, anyway, huh?” Jared’s voice growls a bit, adding onto the intimidation of him closing in on Jensen as they cross the locker room. “I’ve done nothing wrong, stayed out of your way, never said a bad word about you, and all you can do is tear me down.”
Jensen brings his hands up in apology, offering his best to excuse away his behavior, anything from just a misunderstanding to a friendly rivalry and finally onto the need for good journalism.
“But you’re lying,” Jared complains. “That’s not good journalism. You’re just a hack. And a liar. And a bully.”
“Now, hang on there …” Jensen doesn’t get any farther because now Jared crowds him into the corner and Jensen’s hands-meant to plead and keep the air light-are now pressed against Jared. His fingers bend perfectly over the crest of Jared’s chest and heat sinks through his skin. “I, uh, hadn’t, well, it didn’t-”
Jared huffs in Jensen’s face. “What’s wrong now? Cat got your tongue?”
At the word tongue, Jensen licks his and carefully looks up to Jared’s face, where he can see Jared does the same. At the sight of Jared’s plump, perfectly pink and moist lips, Jensen bites into the middle of his tongue and frantically steals a glance to Jared’s eyes. Jensen would later note that they looked the way Jensen’s stomach felt … dark and deep and spiraling out of control … because a split second later, their lips are crushed together and Jared’s hands grab tight to Jensen’s face, angling him this way and that, diving deep into Jensen’s mouth in a greedy kiss.
It continues on for far longer than Jensen ever imagined in any of his dreams-wet or day. And even when they break constantly for Jared to catch his breath with big gulps of air through his bruised lips, they get right back to it.
Jensen reaches around Jared and drags his palms down the sculptured back, gripping and scratching in the same manner Jared does to get Jensen’s shirt off. Seconds later, Jensen’s pants drop and they’re both near naked with only a small swatch of fabric over the goods. Jared tugs him forward with his hands resting on Jensen’s ass, pulling their hardening dicks together and rubbing against him.
“Ohmigod,” Jensen whines pathetically because his teenage libido is quickly jumping ahead of him and he thinks he wants to come right now just from the heat and pressure. And possibly also the sight of Jared Padalecki, the star of many a dark dream, standing near naked and all flushed from kissing Jensen.
There’s harsh breathing in Jensen’s ear before Jared nips at the ear lobe and Jensen’s eyes roll back. Jensen thunks his head against the metal locker and lets Jared take over, burning out months of animosity as they grind against one another and Jared licks and bites along Jensen’s throat. He just runs his arms over Jared’s shoulders and hangs on for the incredibly short ride because they’re then coming with their panting echoing off the walls.
With loud huffs, Jared fights to catch his breath. Still, he’s the first to speak. “That was so-”
“Embarrassing,” Jensen finishes as he stares at his blue and pink checkered briefs, all damp in the stickiest of ways. If only he had known this was ever a possibility, he might’ve worn something less embarrassing, something not from the very bottom of the laundry basket.
“I was going to say awesome,” Jared mumbles while backing away, only Jensen holds on tight and yanks Jared back in.
“Yes, totally awesome. Really, really awesome.” He kisses Jared immediately, feeling the same excitement thrum through his body as before, but taking his time with less frantic moves. “Really, totally awesome.”
“You’re kind of terrible at talking.”
Jensen frowns and turns his head away.
Jared tips Jensen’s chin back up with a smug smile. “But really good at kissing.”
Part Two
Words: ~14,000
Rating/Warnings: NC-17/teen sex - both boys are about 16-17, language
Summary: American Journalist Walter Winchell said “Today’s gossip is tomorrow’s headline”, and nothing could be truer for Jensen Ackles. As he seeks the job as Editor-in-Chief of his high school paper, Jensen has to spend time covering the swim team, where star Jared Padalecki (and Jensen’s current enemy) serves as captain. Over time, they get to know one another and see past the hatred, but a new item in The Austonian drudges up Jensen’s past for spreading good gossip.
Notes: Written as part of spn_j2_xmas for keep_waking_up, in line with her prompts for hatesex and angsty artsy HS AU. I kind of mashed the two together and this came out. A hundred sorries (like Jared) for being so late! The story got away from me and I wanted to see it through. Happy holidays!
And big thanks to all_the_damned, fiercelynormal, and one_2_3_4 for helping to beta and brainstorm in the final days <333
On AO3
On paper, Jensen hates Jared Padalecki. The Austonian says so, in the thinnest of margins so it’s not outright obvious to the rest of Austin High. But it’s there all the same. Jensen makes sure of it every time he looks over the newest edition.
“Really?” Danneel asks, looking up from the newest draft that’s set for print by 4 PM today.
“What?” Jensen asks innocently, even when he knows what she’s referencing. He glances at the page she’s holding up and makes a faux-impressed face. “Yeah, the swimming team is gearing up to face Lewis. Tom said Coach thinks they’ve got a real shot.”
It’s exactly what Jensen wrote yesterday and the same theme Coach Stuart relayed when Tom interviewed him on Monday. So Jensen shrugs with a lopsided smile, holding it firm when Danneel shoots him a dead-eyed stare.
Danneel stands up from her desk and holds the paper right in front of Jensen’s face. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” She runs her finger down to left side of second paragraph of the story.
It’s not hard for Jensen to spot what she’s going after. He put it there after all. While editing Tom’s story, he made sure that the left side of that paragraph was written so perfectly that the first letter of each line vertically spells Padalecki sucks.
She sighs and Jensen shrugs with a bit of a smile. “You’re so mature.”
“I just followed what Tom gave me.”
Another sigh, Danneel drops the copy to her desk and leans back in her chair. Rocking slightly. In judgement. “You’re terrible at sports.”
“Uh, excuse me, I’m an All-State athlete.”
“In track. Which you probably excel at because you spent half your childhood running away from your sister.”
“It was my brother,” Jensen huffs, “thank you very much.”
“Either way, you’re terrible at writing them.”
“I’m wonderful at writing everything. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be the assistant editor.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were baiting him.”
Jensen classically rolls his eyes and marches over to the far counter where the rest of the newest edition is spread out, pages filled to the brim with text and photos. “Who, Coach? Totally not my type. Besides, I have better things to do.”
“Oh really?” she deadpans. “Like what? Please do share.”
With pointed fingers and careful touches, Jensen rights the whole midsection so the pages are aligned at the top and perfectly set just a hair beside each other. “Mr. Omundson is selecting the new editor-in-chief by the end of the month.”
That gets her attention, and she shoots up from her seat and is next to Jensen in a flash. “What about Amell?”
“Teacher’s pet? Well, I heard he tried a wee bit too hard to get close to Ms. Huffman so she turned his ass into the Dean’s Office.”
Danneel leans in even closer, “And where’d you hear that?”
“I have my ways.”
“Who?”
“A journalist never reveals his source.”
She narrows her eyes and for a brief second, Jensen anticipates a full swath of feminist hatred.
“Or her source.”
+
Jared glides through water. The surface breaking around his lean lines. His strong arms drive forward and down, propelling him towards the wall. He keeps count and flips on time, tucking his growing body in and pushing off the wall to start another lap.
There’s little sound around him because the water floods his ears and the swoosh-swoosh of his strokes runs like a metronome as he counts to the next wall.
Coach’s shrill whistle stops him just before he flips at the wall. Jared reaches out for the top of sky blue tile to pull himself up and sit at the edge of the pool.
“Padalecki!” Coach Stuart shouts. “You’re far too early.”
Jared tugs his cap off and shakes out damp hair. “Better than far too late, sir.”
“You’ll tire yourself out.”
“I’m trying to build myself up.” He smirks with what he knows is his best childish enthusiasm and charm. “Stamina and all that.”
Coach waves him off and returns to the office just beyond the big pane of glass on the other side of the room. He looks out onto the pool, and Jared offers a quick wave and holds that playful smirk in place.
“Stamina, my ass.”
“Shut up, Chad,” Jared replies without moving. He knows his supposed best friend (forever) is off to the right, casually hanging out on the bleachers and not doing anything useful.
“You’re just hiding in here because you’re afraid to see what Ass-les wrote about you this week.” Chad punctuates his point by flipping a page over in the latest edition of the Austonian and rattling the paper in his hands.
“And you’re hiding in here because you’re afraid Sophia will kick your ass if she sees your ugly face.”
Chad smacks the paper down beside him on the bench. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m the equipment manager.”
“And how many times do we have to tell you? There is no equipment in swimming.” Jared laughs shortly and shrugs. “What’re you gonna do? Hold our Speedos?”
Quite seriously, as if with great honor, Chad holds his head up. “I would if you asked me to.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“At least I’m not on a douche.”
Jared sighs and briefly shuts his eyes, remembering the typos that littered Jensen Ackles’ last story on the swimming team. ‘Accidentally,’ Ackles had insisted, all while smiling that dumb smooth smile of his with his dumb big eyes wide and faking any kind of dumb emotion. “That’s not what it said!” he argues, because he has yet to come up with anything better when discussing that article.
“You’re right. It didn’t say anything. You had to read it.”
“Shut up, Chad.”
“And it read like you use your mama’s douche to clean out your-”
“SHUT UP, CHAD!”
“Ladies!” Coach yells at them from the other side of the glass, all muffled and squeaky. “The only fighting in my pool is in the pool.”
“Okay, fine,” Chad agrees. He rises and marches along the bleachers to the stairwell that brings him down to pool level, tearing off his hoodie, shirt, and belt along the way.
Jared coolly stands and waits for Chad’s arrival, at which point he easily shifts to his right then shoves Chad right into the water.
At that time, the rest of the team files into the pool area with laughter slowly growing among them as they take in the scene of Chad flailing around in the water like a drowning squirrel.
“Alright, ladies, enough!” Coach shouts as he joins them at the side of the pool Chad attempts to paddle towards. Strength and gravitas fill Coach’s voice when he chides, “Murray, I’d say you didn’t deserve this, but you absolutely did.”
“Yes, sir,” Chad answers on automatic, even while still fighting the water.
“Help him out, fellas, then let’s get going. You all have some skin to flip!”
Jared and a few others help Chad out of the pool, all chuckling at the sad state of the guy. He starfishes out on the blue and white tile, jeans darkly drenched and sticking to every angle of his hips and legs. Jared perhaps sees a bit more of his friend than he’d like and leaves Chad right where he is to start practice and forget about this whole charade and that stupid newspaper and the even stupider guy who writes for it.
+
Jensen proudly steps up onto the Arts Editor’s chair and then atop the guy’s desk, worn-out black boots scuffing old drafts and planting him in place so he can strike his pose. Feet shoulder-width apart and his arms firmly crossed over his chest, Jensen smiles down at the Austonian’s staff. “It is finally time,” he starts with great cadence, “to stand up for what is ours, to reach out with our strong hands and grip tight what is ours.”
“Yeah!” a few people call out. Mostly just the folks who hang out after school and help them distribute each edition. And that dumb graphic artist kid whose name Jensen can’t be bothered to learn.
Jensen punches his hand through the air. “And we need to put our arms around this great paper of ours and care for it like we would our children!”
“We don’t have any children,” Felicia points out.
“Yeah, we’re in high school?” Danneel adds on.
He grimaces at them, but attempts to complete his speech with a rousing ending. “And will you fight for our paper? Fight, and we may all die. Run, and the paper will live, at least for a little while. And years from now, when we’re off at college-” he catches that other moron Adam in the far corner, with his gleeful smile that betrays how terrible he is at proofing their stories, “or at the 7-11, would you be willing to trade all the days that have passed for the one chance to look back and tell everyone that they may take our paper, but they’ll never take our writing?!”
“Who’s taking the paper?” Tom asks from his desk just off to the side. He swings his chair back and forth in tiny movements, crossing his arms, and staring up at Jensen.
It’s unnerving, quite frankly, so Jensen looks out to the crowd gathered across the newspaper’s office and waits for someone else to speak up. Unfortunately, that someone is Felicia, with a hundred pounds of anxiety.
“Is someone taking the paper? Are they closing us down? What will we do?”
“No one’s closing down the paper,” he insists quickly.
“But you just said-”
“Yeah, I know, but-”
“Why would you say someone’s taking the paper?” Tom asks, calm as ever.
Jensen turns to answer him, but can’t get a full sentence out before everyone is now shouting out their worries over the state of the paper. “No one’s taking the paper!” Jensen yells. “It was just allegory.”
“Al and who?” Adam asks, squinted eyes and all.
“Alle-nevermind.” Jensen waves the stupid freshman off and brings his attention back to the crowd. “I was just trying to rouse everyone up! Get spirits going and build camaraderie!”
“Come-what now?” Tom asks, then smirks when Jensen tries to correct him.
“You’re an asshole,” he tells Tom, then faces the staff again. “Look, it just seems like some of the stories lately have been a little … well, um, slow. And maybe the writing is a little … how do I put this?”
“Stale?” Danneel offers. “Boring? Terrible?”
Jensen’s a bit nervous to agree with her, at least out loud. His whole point here was to strike a new fire within the writers and artists to energize the Austonian, to revive the content and layout, and make a point to Mr. Omundson that Jensen is the great leader this paper needs. The brand new Editor-in-Chief.
“I wouldn’t say all those things,” Jensen tries.
But to no benefit because Felicia is now ultra-focused on the topic. “You think the paper is boring?” she asks with sunken eyes and a crooked yet adorable frown. “Is no one reading it anymore? Are they firing staff?”
That gets the crowd going and Jensen has to whistle through his fingers to get them all to calm down. “No one is getting fired! I mean, no one is even getting paid, so it’s kind of hard to get fired.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Danneel mumbles.
“Not helping,” he sighs at her while the angry staff grow even angrier. And worried, in the case of Felicia and Genevieve, who are now anxiously clutching at one another while contemplating the fates of their journalism future.
In the middle of it all, Jensen spots Jared Padalecki at the open doorway, assessing the scene. It takes just a second to groan and roll his eyes in annoyance at the guy’s presence, then a few more to jump off the desk and exit the room, tugging Jared far away from the Austonian’s office.
“What are you doing here?” Jensen complains.
Jared makes a face at Jensen then at the still-open door where plenty of noise floats out.
Jensen suddenly worries what kind of mess Mr. Omundson would find if he journeys over. But it’s well past five, meaning their advisor is likely on his third hot toddy and can‘t be bothered from the grand leather chaise in the literature and arts office further down the hall.
“What are you doing in there?” Jared asks.
“I was energizing the forces.”
“Looks like it worked.”
Sighing, Jensen slumps a bit. “I was hoping for a completely different direction.” Then he stands up straight and backhands Jared’s shoulder. “What’re you bothering me for anyway?”
Jared takes his turn to smack Jensen, using the latest edition to cover Jensen’s face. “The Gossip Tab.”
“I don’t write gossip.”
“It says an Olympic-bound swimmer was caught stealing porn and cigarettes from Williams’ Liquors.”
Swatting the paper down, Jensen chuckles a little, yet a lot guilty. “That could be anyone, really.” When Jared glares at him, Jensen’s attitude flips into cynicism. “Oh, and like you’re the only swimmer in the whole school? Must think a lot about yourself if you’re calling yourself Olympic bound.”
“Why would you write this?”
Jensen is overcome by a tiny twinge of remorse at the sight of Jared’s poor face looking annoyed and sad all at once. Still, he must keep up all appearances of dislike, and so he lies. “I didn’t.”
“Who else would?”
“Danneel’s name is on the column.”
“Does she really write it?”
Jensen quickly offers, “Or any number of staff back in that office?”
“Stealing porn and cigarettes” Jared repeats. “What’m I supposed to tell my coach, or my teammates. Hell, my mother?”
“Wouldn’t they be impressed?”
“Not likely!” Jared sags back against the wall, clutching at the thick strap of his equipment bag, and Jensen belatedly realizes that the guy is decked out in his full swim team gear. Bright blue soft fabric with the zipper pulled down partway and revealing the line of his v-neck shirt, a light shine down his neck from his post-practice shower …
Jensen wants to smack himself for losing his train of thought, especially right now, while dealing with Padalecki of all people.
“And you said they were Virginia Slims,” Jared whines, “Just freaking embarrassing, man.”
“What? Like you wanna be a Marlboro Man instead?”
“That’d be a lil cooler, right?” Seconds later, Jared seems lost in a daydream as he mumbles about cowboys and horses, boots and saddles.
Jensen tries to avoid following Jared down that train of thought. The star swimmer has certainly grown up and filled out over summer, bringing him more fame and success as the season wears on because his speed has increased tenfold and his spins are tighter and stronger than ever …
Or so Coach told Tom, who told Jensen, who had to look through hundreds of snapshots that Mike got when they first visited the team in the preseason.
And so maybe at that point, when Jensen saw Jared in all of his growing glory and bright crooked smile, Jensen felt the familiar jolt of his long-hidden crush. Last year, Jensen had paid attention to the swim team and insisted Jared was the real deal, but when the then-sophomore failed to finish anywhere respectable at Regionals, many at the paper shot back at Jensen for being so loud about Jared’s future.
It was then that Jensen decided to turn his loudness around and focus on how terrible the newly fantastic swimmer was. Or could be, since it appeared Jared was a pretty regular person without a problem in the world; except for Jensen.
Jensen doesn’t exactly hate Jared. Not really. Or at all. He just hates how he feels about him and it comes out in Jensen’s typical sardonic humor that’s more about ragging on people than showing them real emotion.
“So is that what you want?” Jensen asks. “For me to rewrite it with a cooler cigarette?”
“So you did write it.”
“Uh, no,” he lies again. “That’s Dee’s column.”
Jared frowns and shakes his head. “I knew you did it. But I never expected you to blame Danneel.”
The disappointment in Jared’s tone hits Jensen in the gut. He stumbles a step back, as if physically hit and tries to defend with a lame, “No, not like that, I didn’t mean-”
“But I guess you’re not really known for being a nice guy, anyway.”
Another few steps back and now there’s plenty of room for Jared to slip out of the area and the conversation.
Jensen dumbly stands there and watches Jared grow smaller as he walks farther and farther. He spins back to the office and smacks right into Danneel, who’s now looking down the hallway to where Jared disappeared.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re pouting,” she points out with a no-bull-shit kind of tone. “What happened?”
“Nothing. It’s just …”
“Just what?”
Jensen looks over his shoulder with guilt. Somehow, having Jared disappointed in him and saying he’s not a nice guy hurts more than any kind of bickering and fighting he had anticipated to come from the swimmer.
Before he can answer, Danneel nudges him while staring right into his eyes with ferocious energy. “What did he say? Did he threaten you? Do I have to beat him up?”
“Down, girl,” Jensen insists, putting her at arm’s length. He smiles a little; at least Dee’s got his back. “Quite the opposite. Whined and complained about your latest gossip column.”
“You mean your column.”
“Yeah, but, it’s your name on it,” he quickly argues.
Now Danneel crosses her arms at her chest and cocks her hips to the side. “Because you’re too big a baby to admit you’re a giant gossip whore.”
Jensen shushes her with a hand over her mouth. “You’re gonna blow my cover.”
She bites into the meat of his palm, making him yelp and jump away. “It’s the worst kept secret in the whole school.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Are you kidding me right now? The only worse secret ever is Jared being gay.”
Now Jensen furrows his brow then scoffs at her. “No way is that body gay.”
“Gayer than you, darling.”
“Impossible.”
Danneel smirks proudly. “I know, who’d have thought a swimmer could be gayer than a gossip rag.”
He narrows his eyes and tilts his head in anger. “You watch it missy, or I’ll put you in the proofreading queue.”
“Oh, no,” she deadpans as she heads back to the office. “You’re threatening my non-paying job.”
“My friendship is your payment!” Jensen yells after her, but it doesn’t mean much. Not to her, or the rest of the paper, and definitely does little to raise his spirits after the run-in with Jared.
+
In fourth period gym, Jared finds himself facing off with Jensen on the other side of a volleyball net.
In the large field house, teams from multiple classes make their rounds in short scrimmages then move onto the next court. Unfortunately, when Jared shuffles to the front of the court and finds Jensen staring back at him, he’s startled and annoyed to be faced with this moron.
Jared’s team takes accepts the first serve, volleying it once then twice over to Jared for a swing, but the ball just smacks him in the back of the head as he’s still distracted by Jensen. He curses and holds the side of his head as classmates laugh while only one or two girls on his team check on him. He insists he’s good and tells them all to stop fussing, but he’s anything but okay.
He’s already aggravated by Jensen Ackles’ existence and position in the Austonian, where Jared is continually harassed in print. And now he can blame the guy for being smacked in the ear by a dumb volleyball.
Okay, maybe he can’t really do that, but he will.
“Jackass,” he mutters while glaring at Jensen.
“Are you okay?” Jensen asks, but it’s said so flat and low that it’s not like he means it.
“Like you care.”
Jensen rolls his eyes then turns his attention to the game, which Jared decides to do as well because now he just wants to beat Jensen’s team.
It’s all in the name of friendly competition and all that. Not childish resentment.
Over the course of the next few volleys, Jared notices that Jensen’s actually quite good. His thin yet curved legs are quick to move him to the exact spot to save a wayward ball, his fair-skinned arms align perfectly for each bump, and his entire body leaps up high as he swings for an effective and swift spike right down the middle of Jared’s side so no one can recover it.
The volley runs perfectly once more and Jared is slow in his moves as he watches the ball hop around Jensen’s side of the net. His attention is steady on Jensen lifting up to spike another perfect bump. So steady, in fact, that he loses track of the ball or Jensen’s intended aim and gets whacked right in the nose.
Next Jared knows, he’s on the ground and his face is wet. Students circle him without touching and their looks of horror and a few not-so-subtle points towards his head tells him he’s bleeding.
A whistle blows sharply before the crowd parts to let Coach Beaver assess the scene. “Jesus Christ, Padalecki, what’d you do?”
“Nuttin,” Jared mumbles, now pinching his nose to hold off the bleeding, “Jensen did it.”
“Ackles!” Coach bellows with the crowd parting again to show Jensen meekly watching from outside the ring of bystanders. “You nailed this kid?”
“No. I mean, not personally,” Jensen pathetically argues. “I nailed him with the ball.”
Coach chuckles, “Nice aim, kid,” then insists Jensen’s immediate punishment is to escort Jared to the school nurse. “And you can help him off the floor while you’re at it.”
Jensen does as he’s told, and Jared does his best to remain calm in the face of his enemy. Though he does angrily wrench his arm away from Jensen when being guided out of the field house, and keeps a good distance between them in the hall.
Once at the medical office, Nurse Smith smiles at them with a hint of judgement hiding beneath the surface. “And what happened here?”
“Jensen smacked me in the face,” Jared says automatically.
“It was an accident,” Jensen instantly defends. “I told you that like ten times on the way here.”
Jared scowls at him. “Make it twenty and we’re even.”
“Fine. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor-”
“Alright, boys!” Nurse Smith coddles Jared as she motions him further into her office. “We’ll get you all patched up while Mr. Ackles heads to the Dean, okay?”
Over his shoulder, Jared sticks his tongue out at Jensen, who gives him the finger in return.
+
In a cruel twist of fate, Tom gets mono. He misses school for two straight weeks, including his beat covering the swim team.
Jensen would actually prefer to poke his eyes out and put Adam on the schedule than cover it himself. No matter how many errors that numbskull would make, Jensen would rather spend the time correcting every typo than face Jared.
Jared, who couldn’t take an accident for what it was and instead ratted Jensen out to Nurse Smith, who sent Jensen to Dean Ferris, who doled out a Saturday detention to Jensen, who couldn’t keep his mouth shut when arguing about his perfect behavioral record, which was then blemished with Dean Ferris issuing an in-school suspension and a week of detention for talking back.
To add insult to injury, Mr. Omundson makes it obvious that Jensen should take over Tom’s responsibilities in addition to his regular entertainment section.
There’s no time left in Jensen’s schedule at this point.
With great gravitas, their advisor lifts his arm in the air and recites with a proper English accent, “A good leader takes a little more than his share of the blame, a little less than his share of the credit.”
Jensen turns in place to face Danneel settled at her chair with her feet up on the desk and eyes also widened in confusion.
“Arnold Glasow said it. He was a great humorist, ahead of his time,” Mr. Omundson adds. “He also said, ‘Success isn't a result of spontaneous combustion. You must set yourself on fire.’”
“You’re not actually …” Jensen actually imagines being lit aflame. “Are you asking me to set myself on fire?”
“Jensen, my dear boy,” Mr. Omundson says as he wraps an arm around Jensen’s shoulders and shucks him around. “Don’t find fault, find a remedy.”
Jensen looks to Danneel again, and they both remain clueless to their advisor’s point. More confused than ever by the eccentric man.
“Henry Ford.”
He stares at Mr. Omundson then backs away when the man sighs and drops his arm.
“Egads, do you children know nothing about the fine spirits of our world?”
“No, I know who Henry Ford is …” Jensen flips his hands over as he fights for the right way to explain that, “I just don’t … well … understand your point.”
“My point is that sometimes a leader must act against his senses and do the unthinkable.” Mr. Omundson pulls him around to face with a heavy grip on Jensen’s shoulders. “Jensen, you must cover the swim team.”
“No, c’mon, you don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“That I … he … we don’t … I can’t …”
“Jensen?” Mr. Omundson asks slowly. “The great Walt Disney once said ‘The only way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing.’”
Jensen sighs as he anticipates the next move.
Mr. Omundson shoves him towards the door as he ruefully says, “Great Walt also said ‘There’s nothing funnier than the human animal.’”
“It’s not funny,” he argues. “And I’m not an animal.”
“Ahh, but you are human.”
+
Jared races through his last lap, reaching for the wall with well-timed precision before breaking the water to look up to the friendly competition around him. The entire team has finished before him and is obviously a bit bored waiting for him.
Aldis, Tamoh, and Matt sit up on the edge of the pool with their goggles slung down around their necks. Each stare at him with matching expressions of bewilderment, and maybe skepticism, for him finishing dead last. Before the silence carries on too long, Coach Stuart blows his whistle and shakes his head.
“Alright ladies, hit the showers.” The whole crew gathers any left-behind items then heads for the locker room. Just before Jared can escape the shame of what happened, Coach stops him, “Padalecki. One minute.”
Jared spins in place and decides to face it like a man, albeit it one with a busted nose and two round bruises dulling his cheeks. “Yes, sir?”
Coach stands tall and rests his hands on his hips. “First to last is a mighty quick fall. Like a stone in water, one might say.”
He nods in return, lost on how to excuse himself from such a poor performance.
“Care to explain?”
Jared shifts his sights just over Coach’s shoulder. “Not really.”
“Try again.”
“Not really, sir?”
Coach sighs then drops his head to stare more directly at Jared. “You get into a fight or something?”
“Something like that.”
“With who?”
“Or what,” Chad offers from a bench far in the corner.
“He has the worst timing,” Jared mutters.
“Excuse me, son. Who are you?” Coach yells across the pool.
“Murray, Chad Murray. And Michael. I’m your equipment manager.”
Coach looks at Jared. “We have an equipment manager?”
“Not really,” he replies, yet is thankful the subject has changed.
Not for long, however, because Chad pipes up, “Jared got in a fight with a volleyball.”
“A volleyball?” Coach repeats.
“Yep! A volleyball. Fourth period gym. Jensen Ackles has a mean spike.”
“Shut up, Chad!” Jared yells.
Coach tuts as he nods. “So a volleyball wrecked your face and your ego. Is that how it is, Padalecki?”
“No, sir. It just … it hurts. To breathe.”
“Hmm, well you ice it down a bit tonight and maybe you’ll be okay for tomorrow’s match.” He pats Jared’s cheek, which hurts enough that Jared has to hiss through the pain. “Take care of yourself, son. Get yourself a hockey mask or something.”
“For volleyball?” Chad asks. “That’s funny, coach.”
“Murray, was it?”
“Yes, sir,” Chad answers eagerly, smiling and hustling over to them.
“Get the hell out of my pool,” Coach demands, and Chad quickly turns on his toe to escape the area. “He a friend of yours?”
Jared tries to avoid Coach’s critical look. “Not really.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
With a nod, Jared salutes Coach then heads to the locker room. After a shower and fresh clothes, he thinks the worst of today is over. But then the rest of the team sends him odd glances as they all get their things out of their lockers and talk about going to see a movie.
“Should we ask him?” he hears Matt ask.
“Dude, we’re going to 3D,” Aldis points out. “The glasses’ll hurt his face.”
“Your face hurts my face,” Jared mumbles, but otherwise doesn’t pay attention to them. He waits until he’s left alone to pack his bag and pull on his swim team sweat suit.
He’s exiting the locker room and pulling at the zipper of his sweat jacket when he runs right into Jensen and huffs. “Great, my day just got even better.”
“Oh, wow.” Jensen can’t take his eyes off Jared’s face; more specifically, he’s seems quite distracted by the mess of bruising and harsh red splotches under Jared’s nose. “You look terrible.”
“Not helping,” he grumbles then tries to step around Jensen, walking faster when the writer-or hack, really-tries to keep up.
“No, I mean, it. It looks bad. Like, all the bruising and your face and-”
Jared stops short and pulls a fist. “I will pay you back right now.”
“No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” Jensen rushes with his hands up in defense. “You look fine. Totally fine. Very fine. But not like super fine. Not like that kind of fine.”
His fist remains in the air, but Jared only blinks in return to the crazed ramblings.
“I’ll just shut up now,” he whispers while dropping his head.
Jared laughs a little, trying to not be too amused by Jensen. To witness Jensen unhinged and awkward is kind of like revenge and Jared is pleased that Jensen is acting like this. And a bit endearing, maybe. If Jared thought of Jensen Ackles as anything other than a soulless douche bucket.
“So what do you want?” Jared asks, getting to the point that Jensen was waiting for him just outside the locker room. “Just coming to say sorry again?”
“No, nothing like that.” When Jared glares, Jensen bites the corner of his mouth. “I mean, yes of course. Have I told you I’m sorry yet?”
“About fifteen times.”
“Well how’s about sixteen?”
Jared sighs and marches forward because he’s pretty damn hungry after the five extra relays Coach gave them in anticipation of tomorrow’s meet. He’d like to be home and eating mama’s homemade biscuits rather than wasting time with Jensen Ackles. “What do you really want?”
“So, funny thing. You know Tom Welling?”
“Yeah, I do. What’s so funny about that?”
“No, that’s not the funny part. The funny part is that he got mono.”
“That’s not funny. That’s kind of terrible.”
“Well, yeah,” Jensen tries, yet fails to sound bad for the kid. “But kind of funny, too. I mean, Genevieve was just out with mono, and now he is, too, yet he won’t tell Katie.”
Jared slows down and glances at Jensen because that’s totally not what he heard around the locker room. “I thought he was cheating on Genevieve?”
“Oh, no. Definitely cheating on Katie. And on Felicia, come to think of it.”
“Felicia? From your paper?”
Jensen’s eyes wide and his voice rises with excitement to share his knowledge. “Yeah, they’ve been on the quiet for ages. But don’t tell anyone. It’s totally on the down low.”
“It can’t be on the down low if you’re openly telling me,” Jared points out with a raised eyebrow. “And you’re so obviously outing yourself as writing the Gossip Tab, meaning you definitely were the one who said I stole Virginia Slims and porn from Williams.”
Jensen goes silent again and bites the other corner of his mouth, which should not spin Jared’s stomach or make his palms all clammy. After all, they totally hate each other. “Uh, okay, so maybe that was me. But I mean, sometimes, we don’t have a lot of good stuff to share, so I just kind of make it up.”
Rolling his eyes, Jared gets back to leaving school. “Thanks for that,” he complains. “And then you went ahead and smashed my face in with a killer spike. You’re really making my life easy.”
“I’m really sorry,” Jensen insists. Then cracks a small smile. “That’s seventeen.”
Jared sucks at the inside of cheek so he doesn’t smile at how that was kind of adorable. “Is that why you followed me here? To count how many times you can say you’re sorry?”
“No, see, the funny thing about Tom is that he’s also our Sports Editor and now that he’s out with mono, I have to cover his teams. Which means your team.”
“I like Tom,” Jared says plainly as he fights through his real emotions to the news. Including the want to whine and throw his arms in the air because right now? Adding Jensen Ackles to his daily routine? His life really fucking sucks. “I don’t like you. I don’t want to deal with you.”
“I know. I get it. I really do. I don’t want to deal with you, either.”
“Wow. That’s not any better.”
“I’m sorry.” After a beat, Jensen adds, “Eighteen.”
Jared can’t manage to hide his smile this time, which elicits one from Jensen as well. “Alright, fine. But not until tomorrow, before our meet. I’m already running late for dinner after Coach reamed me out for this,” and Jared waves his finger near his face and the mess that Jensen put there with one perfectly-aimed spike.
“I’m sorry. Really sorry.” Then Jensen smirks. “Nineteen and Twenty.”
“Get out of my face,” Jared insists as he playfully shoves Jensen away.
+
Following his after-school suspension, Jensen races to the Austonian office to check in with the staff and finds it mostly empty.
“Where is everyone?” he shouts to the bare room, and apparently Genevieve, who pops her head up from behind Felicia’s desk.
Followed by Felicia, all pink-cheeked and wide eyed. “Oh, hey, Jensen, didn’t know anyone else was here. When’d you get back?”
Jensen looks between Felicia and Genevieve, repeatedly, while failing to come up with anything to say other than, “Uh, what?”
“Uh, what, what?” Felicia asks as both girls stand and fuss with their disheveled clothes.
“Wow, I had no idea. I thought that … well, you and Tom were, well, you know … and then this … and I wouldn’t have thought …”
Genevieve’s eyes narrow as she assesses Jensen. “You are really terrible at the English language, huh?”
“I just have to write it, not speak it.” Jensen huffs then waves off the whole notion. “Not the point. You are the point. You’re supposed to be with Tom!”
“Uh, I’m totally not,” Felicia insists.
He turns to Genevieve, who continues to stare in judgement. “And I thought Tom was cheating with you.”
“Uh, no, you’re way off,” Genevieve answers with a smug smile.
“But my sources …”
“Are totally wrong, because it’s been me and Felicia this whole time.”
Jensen looks off in the distance and mumbles, “I feel so disconnected from the world.” He’s further reminded of how wrong he’s been on that love triangle when Felicia clutches at Genevieve’s hand and wraps her other hand around Genevieve’s wrist. Felicia appears terrified and yet strongly holds onto her … girlfriend’s … hand as the petite Genevieve stands firmly in place with her head held high.
He smiles at the adorable portrait they make then curses at the beeping of his phone. It’s a reminder to visit tonight’s swim meet so all he can do is wave off the girls with a quick reminder to not make out in a school-sponsored office.
“Janitor’s closet!” Jensen hears Genevieve insist as he leaves. He races through the hall and down a flight of stairs until he reaches the locker rooms then rushes inside and is halted by Jared standing alone with only his speedo covering anything up. “Oh wow,” he murmurs without thinking before slapping a hand over his mouth.
“What?” Jared harps and slams his locker door shut. “What now?”
“I, uh, well, I’m sorry?” he finally spits out. His brain can’t comprehend much at all beyond the blessedly tan skin stretched over growing muscles that are on display right now. Jensen adjusts his jeans, clears his throat, and tries to look away. But he can’t; he sneaks another few glances as Jared walks to him.
“Yeah, like sorry’s gonna cut it when Coach decides to bench me?”
“Benched you?”
“Yeah, because I can barely breathe through this dumb broken nose.”
Jensen feels his voice squeak when he asks, “It’s broken?” then tries to recover by clearing his throat again and saying, “I didn’t know it was broken.”
“Okay, it’s not really broken.” Jared backs down, yet still seems aggravated. “But it feels like it. And breathing underwater is next to impossible, all because you had to hit me with a volleyball.”
“It was an accident, I swear.” Jensen wholeheartedly believes it and wishes Jared would believe it, too. But he’s fairly positive it’s not convincing when he avoids Jared’s face, or neck, or ripped torso, or finely sculpted thighs.
“What’s your problem with me, anyway, huh?” Jared’s voice growls a bit, adding onto the intimidation of him closing in on Jensen as they cross the locker room. “I’ve done nothing wrong, stayed out of your way, never said a bad word about you, and all you can do is tear me down.”
Jensen brings his hands up in apology, offering his best to excuse away his behavior, anything from just a misunderstanding to a friendly rivalry and finally onto the need for good journalism.
“But you’re lying,” Jared complains. “That’s not good journalism. You’re just a hack. And a liar. And a bully.”
“Now, hang on there …” Jensen doesn’t get any farther because now Jared crowds him into the corner and Jensen’s hands-meant to plead and keep the air light-are now pressed against Jared. His fingers bend perfectly over the crest of Jared’s chest and heat sinks through his skin. “I, uh, hadn’t, well, it didn’t-”
Jared huffs in Jensen’s face. “What’s wrong now? Cat got your tongue?”
At the word tongue, Jensen licks his and carefully looks up to Jared’s face, where he can see Jared does the same. At the sight of Jared’s plump, perfectly pink and moist lips, Jensen bites into the middle of his tongue and frantically steals a glance to Jared’s eyes. Jensen would later note that they looked the way Jensen’s stomach felt … dark and deep and spiraling out of control … because a split second later, their lips are crushed together and Jared’s hands grab tight to Jensen’s face, angling him this way and that, diving deep into Jensen’s mouth in a greedy kiss.
It continues on for far longer than Jensen ever imagined in any of his dreams-wet or day. And even when they break constantly for Jared to catch his breath with big gulps of air through his bruised lips, they get right back to it.
Jensen reaches around Jared and drags his palms down the sculptured back, gripping and scratching in the same manner Jared does to get Jensen’s shirt off. Seconds later, Jensen’s pants drop and they’re both near naked with only a small swatch of fabric over the goods. Jared tugs him forward with his hands resting on Jensen’s ass, pulling their hardening dicks together and rubbing against him.
“Ohmigod,” Jensen whines pathetically because his teenage libido is quickly jumping ahead of him and he thinks he wants to come right now just from the heat and pressure. And possibly also the sight of Jared Padalecki, the star of many a dark dream, standing near naked and all flushed from kissing Jensen.
There’s harsh breathing in Jensen’s ear before Jared nips at the ear lobe and Jensen’s eyes roll back. Jensen thunks his head against the metal locker and lets Jared take over, burning out months of animosity as they grind against one another and Jared licks and bites along Jensen’s throat. He just runs his arms over Jared’s shoulders and hangs on for the incredibly short ride because they’re then coming with their panting echoing off the walls.
With loud huffs, Jared fights to catch his breath. Still, he’s the first to speak. “That was so-”
“Embarrassing,” Jensen finishes as he stares at his blue and pink checkered briefs, all damp in the stickiest of ways. If only he had known this was ever a possibility, he might’ve worn something less embarrassing, something not from the very bottom of the laundry basket.
“I was going to say awesome,” Jared mumbles while backing away, only Jensen holds on tight and yanks Jared back in.
“Yes, totally awesome. Really, really awesome.” He kisses Jared immediately, feeling the same excitement thrum through his body as before, but taking his time with less frantic moves. “Really, totally awesome.”
“You’re kind of terrible at talking.”
Jensen frowns and turns his head away.
Jared tips Jensen’s chin back up with a smug smile. “But really good at kissing.”
Part Two