Jared decides to be gay
Jensen's world is turned upside down: “But… but…” Misha splutters, “He’s Jared! He's the most naive person I've ever met. You’re just going to let him go off with someone who just wants to get in his pants because he’s smoking hot? It’s his first time with a dude and you’re…” Misha shakes his head, “That kid adores you, you’re like his fucking role model, and you’re tossing him out to the wolves on his own.”
10,000 words, NC-17, hurt/comfort, schmoop, slight mention of non-con
♥
It all starts with Jared deciding to be gay. Yeah, just out of the blue, he barges into my trailer without knocking - although, that is usual behaviour, plonks himself down on the couch beside me, tosses his legs over onto my lap and blurts out, “Jen, I’m gonna turn gay.”
Obviously, this causes me to spit out the mouthful of coffee I’d been peacefully sipping in favour of gaping at him, “Huh?”
He nods, lets out a yawn and shifts further down on the couch until his ass is practically in my lap, then shrugs, “I woke up today and decided that’s what I’m going to be.”
“You can’t just decide to be gay, you idiot. It doesn’t work like that.”
His eyes meet mine keenly, shining with interest, “So how does it work?”
Spluttering and shoving fruitlessly to try get him off me, I rack my brains for anything to say to fix this. “Well… I mean…just like… I mean, you don’t get to choose… people just… are. Like, I mean, you never chose to be straight, but you are.”
“No, I’m not,” he shakes his head stubbornly, “I’m gay.”
“Jare…” I trail off, trying to figure out what to say. “You can’t be gay.”
“Why not? I mean, you’re gay, aren’t you? It can’t be that hard.”
“Jay… I never decided to be gay, I just am.”
“But you just said we don’t get a choice. I want a choice. I never decided to be straight, but I never decided not to be gay either, so I could be without knowing it.”
“Jared…. Why do you even want to be gay?”
He shrugs and closes his eyes, “I dunno, I guess it just doesn’t seem right to deprive half the general population of the love that is Padalecki. Everyone should have an equal chance of getting into my pants, else it’s not fair.”
Letting out a groan, I punch his leg, making him squeak. “Please tell me you did not just say that.”
“I did not, not just say that,” he replies goofily.
When I just let out a sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, he uses it to his advantage and shuffles around, dropping his head in my lap and kicking his freakishly long legs over armrest. “Besides how hard can it be? I mean, it’s a little hairier, a little less gentle - which is good, you know, ‘cause woman are really delicate, and… okay, damn I’ll miss the boobs, but… I’m sure it also feels nice just having a firm, smooth chest against your own, and… okay, sure, it’s a dick instead of a va-”
“-Okay, that’s enough,” I interrupt him quickly, not keen on having this conversation - or actually any conversation - that involves firm chests or dicks or anything like that with him. Especially not with his head so near my-
“And I mean, a hole’s a hole, right?”
I let out a growl and smack him over the head, “Okay, dude. I think you just insulted the entire gay population... including me.”
He shrugs apologetically, but his mouth doesn’t stop, “And it shouldn’t matter who you love or what they look like or what they’ve got or haven’t got. So long as you love them and they love you, the gender or outer appearance shouldn’t affect anything. God made us all. If he wanted us to be different, he would have made us different, but he didn’t.”
This sort of strikes me dumb, I mean, that really sounded philosophical and deep. Like, really deep.
Then of course, he goes and ruins it by grinning cheekily, “Although it does help if the outer appearance is hot and sexy, but that’s just a minor detail.”
I smack him over the head again and sag back into the couch, preparing myself for whatever’s about to happen.
“But… the problem is…” he looks up at me with mournful eyes and a small pout on his lips, “I’ve decided it, but… I don’t really know where to go from here… Are there-”
“-No, there aren’t instruction booklets on what to do once you’ve decided you’re gay.”
“Oh…” his face falls slightly and I feel like I’ve kicked a puppy. I don’t even know why I let him have such an affect on me. Okay, fine, I do know. But it still sucks.
I let out a soft sigh and grip his jaws with my thumb and forefinger, morphing his face into a chubby baby’s and shaking him slightly, “Okay, fine. I’ll be your ‘gay guru’ or whatever.
The grin he breaks out into is hilarious. Chubby, wubby baby from the Chubby Wubby Babies’ Club.
Oh, God. I am so lame. I release him and bash my head against the back of the couch a few times to shake loose the dead brain cells.
Luckily, he interrupts me before I can do permanent damage. “Okay, so… what was the first thing you did when you decided to be gay?”
“I didn’t deci-” huffing a sigh, I let it go, “Okay, once I realised I was gay, I freaked out.”
A small frown creases his forehead and he looks up at me with intense attention. “So… if I run around the room a few times, waving my arms about, will that be good enough to count?”
Struggling to hold in my laughter, I nod stiffly, “Yeah… that should do it.”
Up in a flash, he begins running around the room, arms flailing and hair bouncing. It’s too much. I burst out into full-belly laughter.
But when he sits down again with a pleased grin, I realise he did it for the sole purpose of making me laugh. A warm feeling spreads in my chest and I reach up to mess his hair even more, murmuring fondly, “Idiot.”
“Okay, so freaking out - check. What’s next?”
“Uhm… I guess, next I told my best friend… only he didn’t take it too well…”
Jared falls silent and I barely refrain from cringing when I realise he must have seen something in my eyes. But instead of asking and prying as most people would, he just stretches his arm out along the back of the couch, his warmth brushing against the nape of my neck comfortingly. And if I lean back a little, just to see how it feels, well, there’s no one else here to call me on it. Besides, Jared is basically the mascot for all the touchy-feely people out there, so he won’t mind.
Clearing my throat, I force myself to lean forward and continue, “Well… then I told my parents.”
I don’t mention the weeks of hell that came after. I don’t mention how it felt to see the anger and hurt in my parents’ eyes, as if I was being gay on purpose. I don’t mention how it felt to have to tread so carefully around them for ages after, until they finally realised that I was the same person I’d always been.
I don’t mention any of that, that’s why I get such a shock when Jared leaps to his feet, tugging his phone from his back pocket.
“What are you doing?” I ask thickly.
Not looking up, he just replies simply, “Calling the ‘rents.”
“Jared, no,” I surge up, snatching the phone from his fingers and tossing it away from him.
When his wide eyes look up, I can’t stand to meet his surprised gaze. Turning around to face the wall, I shrug, “You really don’t want to do that.”
His light touch on my shoulders has me shivering, but he persists and begins gently massaging the tension out of me. Then he stops, “Jen… I know… I know this seems really out of the blue… but… this isn’t just a phase.” His voice grows stronger, “I’ve realised that both girls and guys turn me on…. I swear,” he squeezes my shoulders warmly, “I swear I’m not screwing around with this.”
Wanting nothing more than to sag back against him and let his solid chest take some of my weight, I spin around, shoving him away and quickly storming out the trailer, ignoring everything, even the hurt in his voice as he calls my name.
I hear his footfalls behind me and despite the fact that I know he’s not going to give up until I face him, I find myself speeding up. Without saying a word, he falls in beside me, arm brushing lightly against mine with our every step.
It’s only when I come to a halt and flop down on the cold ground in resignation that he breaks the silence, his voice low and sincere. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you.”
Then he walks away, shoulders tense and hunched up as if he’s hurting, leaving me feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet. It’s not Jared’s fault that I have so many issues with being gay. It’s not his fault I’m basically a closet case. It’s not his fault at all. He’s confused and looking for direction, and all I’ve managed to do is push him away (quite literally) and basically abandon him with his crisis.
But when I get back on set, he’s nowhere in sight.
Pulling out my cellphone, I quickly press speed-dial one and begin preparing my apology in my head. I’ve just gotten to the grovelling, ‘Please don’t hate me, I’m such a jerk’ part of my dialogue, when I pass by the window of my trailer and hear the loud chorus of Our lady peace, “I'm not dying, all you did was save my life, pulled me out of that flat line, put the heartbeat back inside…”
That’s when I remember where Jared’s phone is and why.
“Jensen?” a voice from behind me calls.
“Yeah? Oh, hey, Sue.”
She grins and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, “The boss says you hotties have to get back, your break’s over.”
Smirking slightly, I raise an eyebrow, “And Kripke used those exact words? ‘Hotties’, huh?”
“Totally,” she nods, leaning forwards conspiringly, “You’d better watch Jared’s ass, I think the baldy’s planning an attack.”
Distracted, I squint at her, wondering why she’s talking about Jared’s ass. Then her meaning actually sinks in and I let out a soft groan, “Oh, man… That is just so wrong…”
“What’s wrong?” asks someone from behind us.
Seeing who it is, I burst out laughing and gesture for Sue to splutter an explanation. Eric, however, doesn’t look impressed. He glares at me, “Where’s your better half? I swear, if that kid’s stealing candy from the vending machine again, I’m gonna flay his ass.”
I snort slightly at the reference to Jared’s ass, but am quickly sobered when I remember exactly why Jared’s AWOL.
“He’s… uhm… listen, Eric…. I think it’d be best if we held off filming for today… There’s just… Yeah, anyway… thanks… see you on Monday.” Ignoring his protests, I begin the manhunt.
♥
Three hours later, I’m exhausted, stinking of whatever gunk they used to make Dean’s clothes look like they’d been mauled by a big, scary monster, and have run out of places to look. He’s not in the house, not at any of our usual bars, not in the library, not in the hospital, the prison (don’t ask, just know that tequila and Jared do not go too well together), he’s not even in the park.
Realising there’s not much else I can do besides call the missing persons unit (and Jared would kill me for that), I decide to head back home, get a good night’s sleep and hopefully he’ll be there in the morning.
It’s because I’m so tired (or so I tell myself) that, when I step into my bedroom and see a lump on my bed, I let out a shriek. It’s a very manly shriek, nothing to be ashamed of or anything like that, but anyway.
Then the lump lets out a soft whimper and folds itself up even further, melting my internal organs until I should be nothing more than a puddle on the floor. It’s Jared, curled up in my bed, hugging my pillow to his chest and sound asleep.
Stepping forwards, trying to get closer to him, I let out a soft curse when my feet get tangled in his jacket and I trip, barely catching myself on the bed. Of course, this commotion leads to him blinking up at me sleepily, his voice thick and low as he mumbles, “Jens’n?”
“Hey, dude. What you doing in my bed?”
That’s when I notice how red his eyes are and I move quickly, tilting his head up for a better look: definitely red. “Jared, what happened?”
When he ducks his head, my mind begins racing through all the possibilities, and I can’t stop myself from looking him over, searching for any injuries. I’m so intent on studying him that I barely hear his murmur, “I called them.”
“What?” I lower myself onto the edge of the bed, “What did…?”
“They…” Jared’s voice wavers, raw with emotion, grating into me and squeezing the air from my lungs. “My dad… he was… the disappointment in his voice… like… like I’d done something unforgivable…. It was…” his voice breaks and he cuts off, looking away. His soft whisper of, “You were right,” does nothing to cheer me up.
“Fuck,” I breathe softly, sliding an arm around his shoulders and tugging him in close enough for me to rest my chin on the top of his head, “Don’t worry, Jare… They’ll… they’ll come ‘round…”
He lets out a strained laugh, muffled against my chest, “You know… you know what the worst thing is? They used to tell me everyone’s equal… They… they said I must never treat anyone different because of who they are…I never figured them for hypocrites….”
“Jared…. No… Listen to me…they’re just in shock. Their son, their twenty-six year old son just called them on the phone to tell them that he’s gay. Don’t you think they’re entitled a few hours of shock? I mean, it took ages for my parents to accept it, but they did, eventually. Yours will too. Trust me.”
Jared shuffles closer, so much like a tiny puppy seeking protection as he nudges his nose against my throat. Quickly giving in, I slide my other arm over his shoulders, wrapping myself completely around him and lowering us down on the bed. With his face hidden in the dip of my shoulder, he lets out a soft sigh, his body relaxing and moulding to fit against mine.
I begin running my fingers through his hair as I stare up at the ceiling, wishing I could do something more to ease his pain. Hell, I’d even take it on myself… Actually, that would probably work amazingly well, because if I was hurting and Jared was fine, then Jared, being Jared, would be able to cheer me up in a matter of minutes, and I’m not even exaggerating: he’s done it more often than not.
As I tilt my head towards him, burying my nose in his soft curls and inhaling his familiar scent, I wonder what I ever did to deserve him.
♥
About an hour later, my arms are numb from holding him so tightly, but I don’t give a damn because the more time that passes, the less he shivers.
Finally, he breaks the silence, “I think everyone already knows that I’m gay .” With his every muffled word, his lips brush over my skin, raising goosebumps and causing tingles to race down my spine.
I know he’s just trying to distract himself from what happened, so I play along, “Why, because you look like a girl?”
He huffs a shaky laugh, seemingly relieved that I’m not talking about his parents, and pokes me lightly on the chest, “No…. because I’ve been looking through some gay websites and-”
“Wait, what? Please don’t tell me you’ve been browsing for gay porn.”
Shaking his head slightly, he lets out a soft yawn, “Nah, just graphics and Myspace stuff. Anyway, on two sites, two absolutely different ones, ones specifically ‘gay’ with gay images, I found pictures of me.”
“Seriously?”
“Mmm hmmm. The one was of me coming out of the shower, you know that one?”
Of course I know that one, but Jared doesn’t need to know just how much I know about that one. “Yeah.”
“And another one where I’m with you, but they cut you out of the picture, maybe ‘cause you’re not gay enough for their site. Or maybe ‘cause you’re not hot enough, yeah, that’s probably it.”
“Hey!” I protest, tugging at one of his haphazard locks of hair.
“I wonder how many gay dudes have jerked off to my photos…” he continues, his voice trailing down sleepily until, with a soft snuffle, he become a dead weight in my arms.
“Great,” I grumble, knowing full well that I fit into that ‘gay dude’ category. It’s sad, but Jared doesn’t ever need to know that.
He’s heavy, like, seriously heavy, but with the solid weight on my chest, I feel like everything else in the world could go boom, but this, us, right here, won’t be affected.
Snorting quietly, I spend a few minutes wondering what the hell is wrong with me, before I gently ease him off me, stopping every now and then to soothe his murmured complaints and make sure he’s still asleep.
Moving towards the living room and out of earshot, I pull out my cellphone and scroll through my contacts.
The phone is answered on the second ring, “Jared?”
“No, this is Jensen,” I reply coldly.
“Oh, Jensen, honey. Where’s Jared? We need to speak to him.”
“No, I don’t think you have anything else to say to him, you’ve done enough. I can’t believe you did that to him.”
“But-”
“No, Mrs Padalecki, I don’t care why you did it. I just want to let you know that your son, my fucking best friend, has just spent the past few hours crying on my bed. I hope you’re fucking happy.”
And with that, I hang up, slightly stunned at myself for cussing at someone who’s been like my second mother since I became part of Jared’s life.
With a soft breath that resounds in the silent room, I quietly make my way back towards my bedroom. As I stop in the doorway, something clenches around my heart at the sight he makes: his floppy hair splays in every direction, fanning out on the pillow beneath him and curling into cowlicks on his forehead; through his slightly parted lips, a soft sigh escapes every now and then, sounding more like a whisper than anything else and all I want to do is lean in and listen.
In the dim light of the streetlamps outside, his smooth skin glows a warm golden colour and I sway slightly, having to steady myself against the doorframe before I can do anything else.
My feet pad softly on the wooden floor and, without even realising where I’m going, I find myself reaching into one of the corridor cabinets, searching for my camera and praying that it’s charged. I wince at the chime it gives off as it switches on, and quickly change the settings, before returning to the entrance of my room, holding my breath as I raise the camera to my eye.
Ironically, the one who gave this camera to me is actually the subject of my photos. Jared knows how much of a technology geek I am, knows how I practically drool over the cameras and equipment on set, and he also knows how much I enjoy being the one behind the lens. So, being Jared and being the best friend I could ever ask for, he enlisted the help of several specialists, and bought me this top-of-the-line, 21megapixels, high-definition, absolutely amazing Canon.
What he doesn’t know is that over ninety percent of my photographs are of him.
Clicking away, I step closer, carefully watching where I place my feet. When I’m standing beside the bed, I can’t stop my hand from reaching out, brushing the obscuring bangs from his face. A soft smile spreads over his lips and he leans into my touch, freezing me in place.
A few painfully silent moments pass as I barely dare to breathe lest it wake him. When I can finally bring myself to move, I snap one last photograph and pull away, annoyed with myself for not being able to resist him and annoyed with him for being so irresistible.
After putting the camera away, I steal a final glance at him and decide that just because he’s not budging, doesn’t mean I have to go without a comfortable bed. Grabbing a pair of sweatpants, I make my way towards his bedroom, only feeling the tiniest bit guilty about using this as an excuse to bury my nose in his pillow.
♥
A few hours later, something lands on my chest with a thud, jerking me awake and stealing a groan from my lips. The ‘something’ then proceeds to bury his nose under my chin and wiggle his ass around until he manages to get himself beneath the covers. After rubbing his cheek against my stubble a few times, he finally falls still.
“Great,” I mutter, going for sarcastic, but actually sounding way too fond for my own good.
“Night, Jens,” he whispers.
Sighing in resignation, I gently rest my hand at the back of his neck, “Night, goofball.”
♥
It feels like I’ve just fallen asleep again when I realise the ringing in my head is actually the persistent chiming of the doorbell. Rubbing a hand roughly over my face, I lean over to check the time, only to realise two things. The first is that someone’s curled in my arms, making movement difficult; the second is that my alarm clock is missing.
That’s when I remember where I am and glance across the bed, spying the time on the opposite nightstand. Grumbling a few times, I begin to pry myself away from Jared’s form, which proves to be extremely difficult, what with his arms tightening every time I try to move. Finally, with a gentle shove, I manage to roll him off me. With a muffled murmur of complaint, he shuffles over, curling in the spot I’ve just vacated.
My level of resentment for the person guilty of waking me up steadily increases, and by the time I pull on a shirt and reach the door, I’m muttering expletives.
Yanking it open, preparing to cuss the perpetrator out, I’m frozen by the sight before me: Mrs Padalecki’s eyes are red, her make-up is smeared blotchily over her face and there’s nothing in her arms but her purse. Beside her, equally sickly in appearance, is Mr Padalecki.
I slam the door shut in their faces.
Then I change my mind, realising that they’re probably going to continue ringing the doorbell until Jared and the rest of the neighbourhood wake up.
Swinging it open again, I growl, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Jensen, please… we need to speak to Jared.”
Stepping forwards and pulling the door shut behind me, I glare at them, “So you can what? Huh? Hurt him even more? Disown him? No, I’m not letting you anywhere near him, I won’t see him that hurt again.”
To my absolute astonishment, Sharon shifts forwards and into my arms, embracing me tightly. When she pulls away, she gives my stunned face a watery smile, “It’s good to know our boy has you taking care of him.”
I can’t do any more than blink at her blankly.
Jerry steps towards me, clamping his hand down on my shoulder, “Son, we love Jared. We accept him for whoever he wants to be. But you have to understand how it feels to us, knowing that for twenty-six years of his life, he’s never told us. We’ve always tried to be open with our children, letting them know that they can speak to us about absolutely anything and, when he told us this news, it felt as though we had failed as parents.”
Sharon gives a soft sniffle, “The thought of my baby boy growing up thinking he had to hide this from us, that he had to go through this alone, it hurts me.”
Snapping my gaping mouth shut, I let out a shaky huff of relieved laughter. “That’s… that’s actually the best news I’ve heard in a while…. Uhm… well, Jared didn’t know he was gay until now, though he’s bi, not gay…. Yesterday, he… uhm… told me, I was the first person he told. Then he called you.” Realising what this means, I quickly push open the door and gesture them inside, “You’d better go in, he really needs to hear you say that.”
After safely shutting the door behind us, I head down the corridor. They follow silently, and for some reason unknown to me, they hesitate at the door to Jared’s bedroom while I go in alone. Moving to crouch beside the bed, I gently reach for the kid’s shoulder, pulling him over, “Jare, time to wake up, dude.”
His unfocused eyes blink up at me and he reaches out, narrowly missing my head, to grab the side of my neck. “Jens’n?” he mumbles, “D’n wan’ wake up.”
Idiotically, my hand moves without my consent, reaching up to sweep the hair from his face. Swallowing thickly and praying that his parents didn’t notice, I shake him again, “Jared, your parents are here…”
His whole body freezes and he rolls over, turning his back on me with a shiver. Cursing softly, I slide my hand soothingly down to his waist, tugging on him once more, “Jay, just… You know I wouldn’t let you get hurt, not again.”
It takes a few moments before he slowly rolls over, his glistening eyes sliding up to meet mine. “I trust you.”
I'm unable to stop the smile that spreads over my lips as I get to my feet, returning to his parents and gesturing them in. Still smiling, I leave the room, deciding that we’re all going to need some hot chocolate to get through all this.
♥
About half an hour later, Jared emerges, a wide grin dimpling his cheeks despite the redness of his eyes. He darts forwards, throwing his arms around me and squeezing so tightly I think he might be related to boa constrictors. When he finally loosens his hold, he thunks his forehead down on my shoulder and exhales. That’s when I manage to slide my arms around his waist, returning the hug.
After he’s calmed down enough, he pulls away, grabbing my mug and gulping the hot chocolate down. As I open my mouth to protest, he cuts in with a wagging finger, “And my momma told me how you totally cussed her out. She says no one’s spoken to her like that her whole life.”
“Oh, fuck…”
He just cackles at my rising flush.
The sound of someone clearing his throat in the doorway has me jerking slightly, but Jerry just smiles, “Sorry, boys. The wife is really exhausted seeing as though we were on a plane all night, so we’re going to head out to the hotel, we’ll see you sometime around noon.”
Jumping up, Jared shakes his head, “No, Dad. Don’t be silly, it’s what? Like, three in the morning? You two can take my room.”
Jerry eyes his son with a small frown, “Are you sure? We don’t want you getting a sore back from trying to fit on that couch.”
Ruffling my hair, Jared grins, “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll just sleep in with Jensen, his bed’s huge and so comfy you wouldn’t believe.”
“Oh… okay,” Jerry pauses for a few moments, then his frown clears and he beams at us, “So… you two are…”
I glance at Jared. Jared glances at me. We both look at Jerry.
The problem is, I’m not quite sure how to respond, not wanting to laugh and say ‘no’, making out that I’d never be into Jared, when I’m am actually, crazily, totally goo-goo eyed when it comes to him. But obviously saying ‘yes’ is out of the question.
Jerry’s eyes dart between us, confusion spreading across his features. “Uhm… okay… I’ll just…” he clears his throat, “Okay, so we can have your room, right…. Okay… Uhm… sleep well…”
The silence he leaves behind is deafening.
Desperate for something, I laugh nervously, “Well, that was weird, wasn’t it….”
Turning to me with a scowl he only wears when deep in thought, Jared nods and murmurs slowly, “Yeah… yeah, it was…”
“Uh…” after wracking my brain for something to cheer him up, I finally get an idea, “So, you wanna show me which gay sites you’ve been ‘modelling’ for?”
When his scowl makes way for a cheeky grin, I can’t help but congratulate myself. But it’s only when we’re seated on my bed, leaning against the headstand with my laptop balanced between us, that I realise what a mistake I’ve made: Jared is here, in my bed, wearing only a pair of boxers, and I’m going to be looking at photos of him, found on gay websites, that are really hot, and then I have to sleep with him beside me and, oh, yeah, did I mention I’m going to die?
Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Jared just hums a random tune as he clicks away. Finally he twists the screen towards me, “There!” The image is one that was taken at a convention we went to ages ago. Jared had his arm slung around me and we were both grinning like madmen at the camera. I remember how happy I felt, being there with him as a warm presence beside me.
“I can’t believe they cut me out of it… bastards…”
“I’m just better looking,” he singsongs. “All the gay dudes want me.” As an afterthought, he adds, “And all the straight chicks, too. I’m omni-wantable.”
Shoving him playfully, I mutter under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear, “And oh, so modest too…. Besides ‘omni-wantable’ isn’t even a word.”
“Fine, omni-desirable then.”
“Idiot… okay, hit me with the next one.”
When I lay my eyes on the towel image, I pop an instant boner. All my nights jerking off, thinking about that damn shower scene, are coming back to bite me in the ass. It doesn’t even seem to make any difference that I’m trying my hardest not to, and it sure doesn’t help that I’ve been half hard all night.
Gesturing around with flailing arms, he shrugs, “And I don’t know why I’m on these when you’re not, I mean, you look way gayer than me, pretty eyelashes and shit. I’m a manly man, don’t see how they figured I’d be gay.”
Multitasking, trying to hide my erection and trying not to laugh, I pat him soothingly on the shoulder, “It’s okay, Jared… it’s probably just guys they find attractive.”
“But then why did they cut you out of the picture? I mean, surely two hot guys together is better than one?”
“I… huh, wait… you think I’m hot?”
“Well, I mean… uhm… not that… uh… Can we change the topic, please?”
Laughing, I close the laptop, stow it safely beneath the bed, and reach over to flick the light off. “Night, Jared…”
“It’s actually morning now, dude.”
I let out a soft groan and smack an arm down on his chest, “Shut the hell up.” But instead of retrieving my limb, I’m content with it curled across Jared, palm resting over his heart, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath my fingertips. And Jared doesn’t seem to mind either. Letting out a soft sigh, he shifts, squirming until he gets an arm under my neck, curling it around my head and gently running his fingers through my hair.
“Night, Jensen,” he breathes, lips brushing against my forehead and staying there. Mentally weighing the pros and cons of questioning Jared’s girly, touchy-feely-ness, I come to the conclusion that I’m actually good right where I am. And if that makes me a girl, then so be it (and I’ll totally drag Jared down with me).
♥
CONTINUED