Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11954841.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural_RPF
  Relationship:
      Jensen_Ackles/Original_Female_Character(s), Jensen_Ackles/Jared_Padalecki
  Character:
      Jensen_Ackles, Jared_Padalecki, Genevieve_Cortese, Original_Female
      Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Age_Difference, Director_Jensen, Student_Jared, Closeted_Character,
      References_to_Homophobia, (almost?_not_quite?)_Infidelity, Love_at_First
      Sight, (Brief)_Angst, First_Time, Loss_of_Virginity, Blow_Jobs, Rimming,
      Bottom_Jared, J2, Schmoop, So_much_schmoop_(seriously_have_you_met_me??)
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-02 Words: 18819
****** Ne Regrette Rien ******
by non_tiembo_mala
Summary
     Jensen Ackles is an Oscar nominated director. His professional life
     is the picture of success, but at forty-one, his personal life is
     anything but. Trapped in a marriage he never wanted to be in, bound
     by what he was always taught was "the right thing to do," Jensen has
     never known love, and long ago gave up the dream of it.
     Jensen is directing a play at a Dramatic Arts Academy in LA as a
     favour to a friend on staff. He's looking forward to the change of
     pace and the chance to scope out new talent. Enter Jared Padalecki,
     the school's star pupil. Seventeen years old and the recipient of a
     prestigious, hard-earned scholarship, he's the obvious choice for the
     play's lead. He's exactly the kind of fresh talent that Jensen is
     looking for as a director -- and maybe exactly what Jensen never knew
     he needed as a man who's lived his entire life without love.
Notes
     I'm so sorry, but I've got a lot to say about this one!
     Firstly, where did this baby come from? Real fucking life. Well,
     kinda. Inspired by, anyway. This is an excerpt from the_article I
     read online that spurred this fic:
      
     Emmanuel Macron will be the youngest president in France's history.
     But his relationship with soon-to-be first lady Brigitte is making
     headlines of its own. Brigitte is 24 years older than Emmanuel. The
     two met when he was in high school. She was directing him in a school
     play and was married with children. Brigitte has kept quiet on
     exactly when their romance started, though she did say Emmanuel vowed
     to marry her when he was 17.
      I simply could not resist, though I put my own spin on it, since
     politics is way less my thing.
     The fic references Arthur Miller's The Crucible but you don't need to
     be familiar with it in any way. Nothing to do with the play is done
     in any great detail. The focus is all J2, baby!
     Also, usually, infidelity is a big no no for me, so writing even this
     close to it was a first. For those wondering what I mean by "almost"
     in the tag -- spoiler? -- I mean that I skirt the issue as best I
     can, and next to no actual cheating goes on.
     This fic has been in the works for an embarrassing number of months.
     I've been working my way through this pregnancy and struggling to
     focus but finally -- FINALLY -- this has wrapped, and not a moment
     too soon! Baby is due next weekend, so this may be my last post for a
     little while until I figure out my life as a mama.
     Holy shit, haha.
     I have to give immense thanks to Tal for being a perfectly wonderful
     support for me during this entire pregnancy especially, but in
     particular a fantastic partner to bounce ideas off of with regard to
     this fic. She's encouraged me endlessly from the start.
     Thank you, too, to my trustworthy, constant beta. Jen, your keen eye
     and zest for the craft make me a better writer. Thank you for always
     pushing me to do my best work.
     Anyways, the title means "I regret nothing" and is from Edith Piaf’s
     Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien, which is both an appropriate song (check
     out the English translation of the lyrics here) and a nod to the
     French roots of the original prompt.
See the end of the work for more notes
As he stands outside her door, he hesitates briefly before knocking. He knows
she doesn’t care, and as with most of their interactions, he doesn’t know why
he bothers, except that he always does, because he always has – because he’s
supposed to – and their life is nothing if not empty, meaningless routine. He
gently raps his knuckles against the wood.
“Amelia?” Jensen calls out softly after a moment when she hasn’t answered. A
non-committal sound from inside prompts him to continue. “I’m off to the
Academy. Have a good day.”

He pauses only a moment before he turns and walks away, unsurprised by the lack
of response. He adjusts his tie as he makes his way down the hall, and pushes
his glasses up on his nose as he hits the stairs, only to stop at the sound of
her door opening.
Amelia steps through the open doorway to fix him with a pointed look, wrapped
in a silk dressing gown with her make up halfway applied and her perfectly
curled blonde hair pulled back off her face. “We have that charity auction at
the Getty Center tonight. If you could not make us late.”

Her expression is markedly accusatory, her tone inescapably irritated, but
before Jensen can even open his mouth to respond, she’s turned on her heel and
returned to her room, closing the door sharply behind her.
Jensen sighs and resumes making his way downstairs to the kitchen.
“Yes, dear,” he mutters to himself sardonically, the bitter taste of the
robotic response on his tongue a familiar one. He’s mostly numb to it now, has
been at least a little bit numb for most of his life, at least where she is
concerned. His life – their life – is a charade, and it only functions because
Jensen has played this role since before he realized he was even doing it: the
perfect son, and then the perfect husband.
He smiles when he is supposed to, plays the part his parents expected him to,
and even still kisses his wife on the cheek when in public and the situation
calls for it, but that’s the closest thing to intimacy they’ve shared since the
conception of their second child, who is currently a freshman at Stanford.
He’s not positive that Amelia knows he’s gay, but he thinks that she may
suspect as much. Maybe she always has. Jensen’s heart has never been in it, not
when he asked her out back when they were sixteen and his parents kept asking
why he didn’t have a girlfriend yet, not when he couldn’t convince her to wait
any longer and she wound up pregnant with their first, not when their families
forced their marriage, and certainly not now, separate bedrooms and so many
years later.

Sometimes he wonders why she’s still with him if she’s even remotely as
miserable as he is, but then, his professional success has won him both fame
and fortune. She seems pleased enough to luxuriate in the lifestyle he affords
them, nearly as much as she enjoys tormenting him. It may be a loveless life,
but he supposes from her perspective it’s at least a comfortable and possibly
even a glamorous one.
Sometimes he wonders why he’s still with her, because he is, indeed, miserable,
but then he thinks of his parents, how he was raised and their expectations,
all the things that landed him here in the first place, and none of those
things have changed. Add to that their children – distant as they are, first
shipped off to boarding schools at Amelia’s insistence and now away at
university only calling for money or favours – and Jensen’s long ago
resignation that this is it for him. He’s forty-one years old and his life is
what it is; a part of him even believes it’s what he deserves. He’s a lonely
man, but he puts his misery into his art, and fills his hollow spaces with his
work. He used to have friends – real friends, not just people he’s obligated to
see – but Amelia saw to it early to put distance between them, isolating him as
punishment for the unspoken truth. All he has outside his career is the life
they’ve pretended to lead together, unfulfilling as it is. 
Sometimes he entertains ending it all – the sham that is his entire existence –
but even that seems pointless. Despite it all, he does, at the very least, have
his work. And he is no fool; he knows that the success he’s had – while he
works hard and feels it is well-earned – is uncommon and just as much to do
with luck, knowing the right people, and being in the right place at the right
time.
Sometimes he thinks that Amelia – the emptiness of his personal life – is his
just dues to the universe, the balance on the scales, because no one really
gets it all. This is real life, not a fairy tale – an attitude that pervades
much of Jensen’s work. His films tend to be rooted in reality, with an often
jaded, sometimes gritty presentation. His most recent piece, which was very
well received last year at Cannes, was deeply tragic. Jensen tries not to
acknowledge how much his own experience informs his artistic choices and his
inability to portray any kind of happily ever after, but as with nearly
everything in his life, that is simply another act of self-preservation.
Jensen startles as the timer goes off for the coffee brewing in his French
press, a vice he clings to like the few precious threads of his sanity. He
pours the imported roast into his brushed steel tumbler and takes a deep, heady
breath of the aromatic steam before screwing on the lid. The tension of the
perfunctory interaction with his wife bleeds out of him and he allows himself a
small, genuine smile. He hasn’t directed a stage production in years, and while
this arrangement is a favour to a business associate whose son attends the
school, it will be nice to get back to the theatre as a venue and refreshing to
work with young, as of yet undiscovered talent. He is actually looking forward
to this.
He grabs his well-worn, post-it note covered copy of The Crucible, slides it
into his briefcase, and – coffee in hand – makes his way to the garage, his
Aston Martin DB5, the Los Angeles Academy of Arts, and the next three months’
worth of reasons not be at home with Amelia.
 
---
 
Jared’s phone buzzes where it’s sitting on his pillow and he hesitates to look
away, his focus wanting to be completely on Daniel Day-Lewis where he’s
monologuing on his computer screen.  He pauses it at the next natural break and
reaches out so he can check the message.
            Chad: Dude the horde isnt gonna defeat itself. Get online n help
me!!!
Jared smirks to himself. Chad is his best friend, and easily one of the things
he left behind in San Antonio that he misses the most. Luckily, Chad won’t let
them go long without talking even if Jared is a thousand miles away.
            Jared: You know I cant. Tmrw is my big audition. I’m doin prep.
Youre on your own tonight!
Jared has barely shut the screen off and moved to put the phone back down when
it buzzes again.
            Chad: Whatever man. U kno ur gonna get a part wonder boy. Quit
watchin crappy movies n play w me! 
Jared snorts, shaking his head at his friend even though Chad can’t see him.
            Jared: This is why youre still in Texas and I’m here about to have
the audition of my life haha ttyl Chad
Jared is grinning when he shoots back the text, part of a long-running joke
between them that Jared works way too hard and tries way too much, whereas Chad
is smart and content to coast along on minimal effort.
            Chad: Screw u.
            Chad: Night
            Chad: Break a leg buttmunch
Jared knows he’s won tonight, and they’ll fight the horde together another day,
but the homesick part of him is still glad Chad tries even when he knows Jared
is busy. It helps. Jared puts his phone back down and returns to his umpteenth
viewing of The Crucible, a subtle jitter in his stomach as he presses play.
He’s only been in LA a couple weeks, moved from San Antonio where he’s lived
his whole life in order to pursue acting. He had a great teacher back home who
went to bat for him and he got enough attention and positive feedback on his
performance in Fiddler last year that he managed to earn an incredible, once in
a lifetime experience: a full scholarship at the Los Angeles Academy of Arts,
which has a renowned focus program for drama. 
He’s absolutely a fish out of water here; LA is nothing like home, and Jared
has never been away from his family like this before, but he is an actor, after
all. He puts on a brave face even while he’s kept mostly to himself. The people
in this school aren’t like the ones from his high school back in Texas. They’re
rich, entitled, and Jared doesn’t know how to relate to them. As the
scholarship recipient, Jared drew a lot of attention when he first showed up,
and he’s not sure his peers are interested in warming up to him based on the
way they look at him when the teachers compliment or congratulate him. But
that’s fine with Jared; he’s not here to make friends. He’s here to learn, and
more importantly, take advantage of the most amazing, unbelievable opportunity
he never would have had back home.
Jensen Ackles – the Jensen Ackles – whose latest film held Jared completely
entranced only to leave him shaken for days, is coming to the Academy to direct
the school’s play this semester. Jared has spent the last three weeks using
every second of his spare time to read and reread the play, watch the various
adaptations, and practice delivering Proctor’s big speeches. This could be his
moment, a chance to impress a real Hollywood director. While Jared has been on
stage countless times since he was a little kid, he’s easily more terrified of
tomorrow than he’s ever been for any other audition, but he’s equally
determined. He knowshe can do this. He’s going to finish The Crucible again
tonight and then get a solid eight hours – if his nerves will allow it – so
he’s well rested and ready to face Jensen Ackles tomorrow.
 
---
 
As it turns out, there is no amount of preparation that could have made Jared
ready to face Jensen Ackles, and it has nothing to do with Jared’s acting or
his directing.
Jared is standing in line outside the auditorium with all the other students
who will be auditioning for or participating in the production when he sees
Jensen Ackles for the first time. He can only assume that’s who it is, anyway,
because he’s talking with Mr. Armstrong – and he’s talking with Mr. Armstrong
as they make their way down the hall towards the auditorium doors where the
students are all waiting. Jared is smoothing down his uniform tie and then he
looks up just in time to see them turn the corner coming towards him.
Jensen Ackles is breathtaking. Jared had no idea. He’s seen all of the man’s
films that he could get his hands on, but he’d never really researched the man
himself. He’s younger than Jared assumed he would be, no grey in his dark
blonde, well-styled hair. He has smooth, tanned skin, and bright, piercing
green eyes behind black, thick-rimmed glasses. His mouth is plush and Jared’s
mind reels at all the places he suddenly imagines it. He’s wearing a tailored,
charcoal grey tweed suit over a black dress shirt open at the neck, with a
briefcase in one hand and what Jared assumes is coffee in the other. He and Mr.
Armstrong approach the doors and as they pause a moment to continue speaking,
standing in profile, Jared can’t help that his eyes drop lower, over the swell
of Jensen Ackles’ ass in his well-fitted slacks, and then farther still, down
the length of his long, slightly bowed legs.
Jared’s heart pounds a little harder in his chest – completely unrelated to
stage fright – and then he looks up again just as Jensen Ackles glances past
Mr. Armstrong and suddenly he’s looking right at Jared. Jared’s face gets hot
immediately; he feels caught out, transparent somehow for all the things he was
thinking when he was taking in the sight of the man now staring back at him,
but he can’t look away. His green eyes trap him there, frozen, and Jared holds
his breath. Jensen Ackles’ lips part slightly, there’s a flicker of something
across his face, and then he’s blinking, thick lashes fluttering as his lips
purse back together and he nods, looking back down at Mr. Armstrong, who is
holding the door open and gesturing for him to go ahead inside.
Just like that they’re gone again, but Jared stands there stunned, transfixed
on the place that Jensen Ackles was occupying just moments before, seeing his
ghost and feeling the heated weight of his gaze. Jared’s stomach is fluttering
wildly and he aches, suddenly and in a way he never has before, deep in his
gut. He tries to take a slow, steadying breath the way he does to keep calm
before going on stage, but he’s still trembling. He doesn’t even notice how out
of it he is until the girl behind him – Gen, one of the only people he might
consider a friend at school – nudges him gently and he snaps out of it,
realizing with a start that the line has moved and there’s no one between him
and the open doors of the auditorium. He clears his throat and tugs nervously
at the cuffs of his blazer as he quickly gets going, hurrying to catch up with
his peers and trying to shake the feeling that somehow his world is now
irrevocably changed.
 
---
 
Jensen’s breath sticks in his throat as though his heart has stuttered in his
chest, the rest of his body halting abruptly and then scrambling to catch up.
It’s really only a moment, but somehow it feels like an eternity when he
absentmindedly looks past Curtis at the line of uniformed students outside the
auditorium and locks eyes with the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen.
He’s looking right at Jensen, his messy bangs pushed just back out of his eyes,
pretty pink lips open as though he might be just as stunned. He blinks
feverishly when Jensen returns his gaze but doesn’t look away, even when a deep
blush to rival the bright, bitten petals of his mouth blooms across his cheeks.
Jensen’s heart resumes beating then, aggressive in the cage of his ribs, and he
feels suddenly hot all over. As his trapped breath finally escapes, he just
barely contains the undignified sound that wanted to run away along with it.
In that impossibly weighted moment, he’s knocked completely off his centre –
reeling – but the second vanishes just as quickly as it came when Curtis’ hand
lights on his arm to direct him inside the door he’s holding open for him.
Jensen is the one blinking now, and he clears his throat as he follows Curtis
inside – aching as he loses sight of the boy in the crowd – smoothing his suit
jacket distractedly.
Jensen is also immensely grateful that he asked Curtis to address all the
hopefuls today and decided to save his opening remarks for the first official
cast and crew meeting. He’s shaking faintly as he takes his seat, and while
Curtis is speaking, he tries to steady himself with slow, deliberate breaths.
Despite the rapidly diminishing rational part of his brain advising against it,
his eyes scan the large group of students to look for him.
Never in his life has a single moment, interaction – person – affected him so
profoundly. The boy’s face is etched inside his eyes and he never wants to lose
sight of it – of him. Jensen feels alive, such a vivid contrast to the shell of
a life he’s been living since practically forever, and he’s sure he didn’t even
remember that he could feel like this.
Who is this kid?
Jensen can’t find him in the group of eager faces before him, but if he’s
auditioning for a role he’ll be front and centre soon enough. In the meantime,
every atom in Jensen’s body is seemingly screaming for him, this child – Christ
– and Jensen is, honestly, terrified.
 
---
 
His name is Jared Padalecki, as it turns out. He’s barely seventeen – younger
than Jensen’s own children for chrissake – and Jensen knows that should make
him sick but it doesn’t, not even a bit.
They’d been well into the auditions – Jensen fully recovered after slipping
into the comfortable, familiar director’s skin that has always served as his
only right in a life full of wrong – when Curtis had excitedly leaned over to
speak close to his ear. He went out of his way to introduce the boy (“A Texas
native, like you!”) as the recipient of their prestigious scholarship with very
promising talent.
He had not disappointed. Jensen knew before the audition was even over that
Jared would get the play’s lead role and he would be outstanding.
Jensen also knew that he was doomed.
Jensen has been moved by talented artists before. He has had the opportunity to
work with Oscar-winning actors and direct some scenes that have truly blown him
away. Jared is undoubtedly talented but that is not what Jensen is stuck
thinking about while he drives home after wrapping up with Curtis at the
school.
Jensen is wrestling with himself for a reason, something, anythingto
understand, but his mind remains stubbornly blank. From the first look they
exchanged in the hallway, Jensen has been shaken up, but then Jared stepped on
the stage in front of him and before he took a deep breath and dove into his
audition, there was another moment. Shy, from under his bangs, his hands
clenching in nervous fists at his sides, a tooth pressing into the pink plush
of his bottom lip, and a flicker of heaven in his eyes when they inevitably
locked with Jensen’s again. Jensen saw it there, everything that was happening
to him was happening to Jared, too, and it’s further testament to the kid’s
skills that he was able to get it together and impress Jensen like he did
regardless.
He can’t get Jared out of his mind. His heart races as he drives, and he lets
his knees fall apart even as he pushes a little heavily on the pedal, making
room for the erection he hasn’t been able to control since he hit the road and
his thoughts freely returned to the long, lean, intolerably beautiful boy who’s
gotten under his skin, right into his veins and the blood that’s pumping hot
and furiously throughout his body. This was easier at the school, when the
presence of other students combined with Jensen’s friend and assistant director
Curtis curtailed his imagination but now, alone in his car, he can’t get a
grip.
He’s in quite a state by the time he parks the car and makes for the house,
completely focused on getting out of these too-tight pants and into a shower
where he can properly indulge the thoughts that have tormented him all the way
through LA traffic. He holds his briefcase with one hand but unbuttons his
jacket and starts in on his shirt as he takes the stairs two at a time, barely
waiting to kick his door shut behind him before starting in on his belt. His
bag thuds as it hits the floor, and he pushes his shoes off while tossing his
jacket and shirt on the bed. The belt follows, but as he goes for the button on
his pants there’s a pounding on his door and he jumps, so lost in the
overwhelming need to give in to everything Jared.
“Jensen?” The sound of her voice is muffled by the door but the irritated tone
is not. “You are cutting it close. You have five minutes and then we need to be
out of here!”

Jensen barely stops the groan that wants to rip out of him. The goddamn fucking
Gala. He stands frozen, fingers on his button, his dick heavy and throbbing
angrily against his leg, face warm and breath short for how out of his mind he
is over this sin he knows he can’t deny. Five minutes? His head is spinning.
His hands are shaking and all manner of curses are brewing on the very tip of
his tongue.
“Jensen! Do you hear me?” She pounds on the door again.
Jensen is frustrated and worked up and he wants to yell back at her but even
now can’t bring himself to do it.
“I– yes. But– I’m not– I’m not well, Amelia,” he stutters out awkwardly
instead. He isn’t trying to play it up but even to his own ears his voice
sounds strained. “You– you’ll have to go without me. And convey my apologies.”
There’s quiet from the other side of the door, and Jensen’s heart pounds
furiously in his chest as he waits for her response. He can imagine the scowl
she’s wearing right now while she debates how to respond, whether to call his
bluff and throw a fit, or just let it go this time.
“Please, Amelia,” Jensen tries, his voice breaking. When there’s still nothing,
he goes for broke. “I’m sorry.”
He hears the huff she lets out then, and he knows this time he’s lucked out.
“Don’t wait up,” she tosses out sarcastically before Jensen can make out the
sound of her footsteps retreating.
He lets out a long sigh, the breath he was holding in anxious anticipation, and
resumes stripping with trembling fingers. He lets out an entirely different
kind of sigh when he finally frees himself from the confines of his pants and
briefs, and he palms himself with a bitten-off moan as he makes for his shower,
hard and desperate like he can’t remember being in a long, long time.
 
---  
 
Jared has to field a barrage of questions from his mom and dad on the subject
of how the audition went, and the phone call is exhausting. He thinks the
audition went well, but that’s not even what’s at the forefront of his mind. He
can’t stop thinking about him – Mr. Ackles, as Mr. Armstrong introduced him.
Jared wants to talk about him, too – the way he looked at him – but he knows he
can’t. For all the acting he does, he’s always been transparent with his
family. At least, when it comes to stuff like this. They knew he was gay long
before he ever articulated it in so many words, and Jared knows if he starts
talking about Mr. Ackles he won’t be able to stop, and they’d know  how he
feels about him, too. And they can’t.
Jared looked up Jensen Ackles as soon as he was alone in his dorm, before his
parents called. He knows now that Jensen Ackles is forty-one, twenty-four years
older than him, and he knows now that he’s married, and he has two kids both of
whom are older than Jared. His heart sank and seemed to shrivel up in his chest
as he read the little blurb about Jensen Ackles' personal life, but he can’t
help it. Knowing it hasn’t changed anything. It doesn’t stop Jared from jerking
off to pictures he found of a shoot Jensen Ackles did for Harper’s Bazaar last
year, where he looks a hundred times more male model than director, and it
doesn’t change how Jared feels, like he’s dying to be on the other end of Mr.
Ackles' gaze again, to have Mr. Ackles' eyes on him, just him, and maybe–
definitely more than just his eyes. His hands, his lips, fuck– he wants to know
what it feels like to be pinned underneath him. Jared has never wanted anything
the way he wants to be at Mr. Ackles' mercy, didn’t even know he could want
like this. Mr. Ackles asked him to read a few additional lines during the
audition, gave him just a tiny hint of direction, and Jared knew undeniably in
that moment he’d do absolutely anything Mr. Ackles might ask him – that Jared
wishes he would ask him.
At night, he dreams of some of the things he wants Mr. Ackles to make him do,
and he wakes up covered in the tacky evidence of his longing, mildly ashamed,
aching, and anxious about how he’s supposed to face him again, much less act
without coming in his pants if Mr. Ackles is going to be directing him.
 
---
 
“Hello! Earth to Jared?”
There’s a tug at his neck and Jared blinks, tearing his eyes away from Mr.
Ackles to look at Gen, who’s leaning forward to pull at his tie, and who’s
accusing, wide-eyed glare is both questioning and incredulous. He clears his
throat as nonchalantly as he can manage and hopes his cheeks aren’t as pink as
they are warm.
“S-sorry. What?” He asks after a moment, mind completely blank with no clue
what she may have said before.
Gen narrows her eyes as she shakes her head at him, letting out a little laugh
under her breath, then she raises an eyebrow quizzically and turns her head in
the direction Jared had been staring.
She and Jared are sitting on the floor in the auditorium waiting out the scene
immediately before theirs, and on stage Mr. Ackles has called cut to walk over
to Tom and give him some feedback. He talks with his hands, so one is
gesturing, directing Tom’s attention, while the other is on Tom’s shoulder.
Just seeing it Jared feels a stab of jealousy and the phantom echo of what that
hand might feel like on his shoulder. Sandy is on stage, too, nodding along
with whatever Mr. Ackles is saying, and Gen takes in the picture they make a
moment before turning back to Jared, still looking suspicious. 
It looks like she’s about to comment, so Jared quickly cuts her off.
“Sorry, Gen. You were saying?” He gives an expectant, apologetic expression and
hers softens in response.
“Yeah,” she laughs again. “I was going to ask if you were ever gonna get that
or just stare off into space all day? It’s been lighting up like crazy the last
few minutes, Mr. Popular.”

She’s teasing as she points at his cell phone. It’s sitting face up on the
floor between them, and as they glance down at it together, the screen lights
up again and reveals the umpteenth in a series of texts from Chad. Jared
snorts. He’s hardly anyone’s definition of popular.
“Yeah,” he reaches for his phone. “I just… got a little lost in my thoughts for
a minute.”
“Uh huh,” Gen looks unconvinced but lets it slide, even as Jared pushes a hand
through his hair while reading over Chad’s multitude of messages, most of which
are harassing because Jared isn’t answering him fast enough. It’s only their
first week of rehearsals so Chad is in for a shock if he thinks Jared is going
to have free time in the near future.
Jared relents and messages back essentially that, grinning as he taps out the
words on the screen.
“Boyfriend back home?”
Jared’s eyes snap up from his phone and Gen hits him with a subtle smirk that
says she somehow already knows the answer to that question, and the other, more
loaded question within it.
“What? No, ugh,” Jared’s gut reaction takes over at the thought. Chad as his
boyfriend, no fucking way. It actually gets him laughing. He loves Chad, sure –
his idiot best friend – but not like that. “My incredibly annoying best friend,
actually.”

“Ah,” Gen nods. There’s an easy, quiet moment then, one that says Jared has
still confirmed – by way of not elaborating – that boyfriendwould still be the
right choice of words. She smiles at him kindly, silently accepting, and Jared
feels relaxed and comfortable with Gen in a way he hasn’t felt with most
people. He’s not sure what drew her to pick him out of the crowd – or rather,
take pity on him as the new kid, really – but he’s glad she did.
“Alright, everyone. Let’s run it once more with all that in mind, and then
we’ll move on to scene three.”

Mr. Ackles’ smooth voice reaches Jared’s ears and he can’t help but turn toward
the source. Mr. Ackles is nodding at Tom and Sandy as he steps away, talking to
the whole group while they reset the scene. No matter how many times Jared
looks, Mr. Ackles never stops being as beautiful as the first time he saw him.
Jared sighs subconsciously, and in that moment, Mr. Ackles happens to turn and
look right at him. Their eyes lock for the briefest seconds – just long enough
that Jared feels that heat stir low in his belly, and as Mr. Ackles looks away,
Jared can’t help but wonder. And hope.
Mr. Ackles returns to his director’s chair and leans over the arm to discuss
something quietly with Mr. Armstrong, so Jared finally tears his eyes away. Gen
is watching him thoughtfully and Jared has this strange feeling that she can
see right through him, so instead of facing her he busies himself on his phone
again.
She doesn’t say anything, and Jared can see from his periphery that she’s
shifted focus and is watching the scene play out on stage now instead. Jared
keeps looking at his phone, but as he dodges Chad’s attempts to get him to
commit to late night gaming after rehearsal, his mind wanders elsewhere, to the
same place – person – it always does these days.
“Gen, Jared,” Mr. Ackles calls out some time later (Jared wasn’t really paying
attention), and just hearing his name on Mr. Ackles’ lips makes Jared’s stomach
flutter. “We’re onto scene three now. Come on up here.”

They tuck their phones into their backpacks and as they stand up, Gen snorts
and leans to straighten his tie – askew because she had been tugging on it –
and then they approach the stage and hop up easily. Jared is keenly aware that
Mr. Ackles is watching him, and while it makes him jittery, it also makes him
brave. He meets Mr. Ackles’ gaze head-on as they walk towards him. Their
production’s Betty is getting herself into position to play unconscious on the
bed, and when Gen and Jared stop just the other side of Mr. Ackles’ clipboard,
Mr. Ackles’ eyes linger on Jared’s another fraction of a second longer than
they should.
He starts in talking about the scene, and Jared is listening, but inside he’s
swimming in the heat that always seems to be his body’s answer to Mr. Ackles’
intense green eyes. Gen confirms their marks, and then Mr. Ackles is turning
away again. Gen grabs Jared by the elbow and guides him to his mark, a vaguely
lascivious grin on her face as she already starts to get into character.
“Okay, guys. And… action!” Mr. Ackles shouts, and Gen jumps right into her
lines.
They make it a good way through the scene before Mr. Ackles calls cut. Both
Jared and Gen look over to him, and he wears a small, knowing smile as he steps
onto stage towards them.
“That was going very well, both of you. Jared, you haven’t done it much but you
need to be aware, just in case as we go forward. You’ve got to keep that drawl
in check. It made itself known on your ‘hardly’ just now. Salem’s a long way
from Texas.”

He’s angled towards Jared in such a way when he finishes speaking that the
lightning fast wink and teasing grin he shares is just for him. Jared might
have forgotten how to breathe momentarily and his mouth goes dry but he
recovers quickly.
“I– I didn’t realize. Sorry, Mr. Ackles. I’ll be sure to pay more attention,”
he promises earnestly.
“Not to worry, Jared. It was subtle, but the devil’s in the details, as they
say,” Mr. Ackles looks fond and he leans in a little closer, even though he
clutches his clipboard between them – a barrier that Jared wants to set fire to
– instead of touching him casually like he seems to with everyone else. “I just
wanted to make you aware. It sounded just that little too much like home.”

Mr. Ackles is still smiling as he leans back, and Jared is quite sure that was
spoken low enough that Gen couldn’t hear. He knows what Mr. Ackles meant but
the way he said it like it was a secret just for Jared, and there was just
something about it that felt… Jared can’t put his finger on it, not even as the
words like home echo in his ears, and he deliberately avoids looking at Gen
again until Mr. Ackles has sat back down and is gesturing for them to start
again at the top. Jared forces himself back into character as Gen starts up
Abigail’s and Proctors’ dialogue, but acting under Mr. Ackles is without a
doubt the biggest challenge and most thrilling torture he’s ever known.
 
---
 
Surprisingly, it’s much easier to make it work than Jared feared it would be.
Whatever Mr. Ackles does to him doesn’t stop or let up, but the audience of
Jared’s peers goes a long way to helping Jared avoid embarrassing himself.
That, and the only thing he might want as badly as Mr. Ackles is to show the
man that he made the right choice casting him. His desire to prove himself gets
him through the moments that would otherwise be the most difficult. Mr. Ackles
gives excellent, concise direction, and his instruction helps Jared get into
character in ways he never has before. That, too, is a saving grace, a place
for Jared to hide, especially when Mr. Ackles’ coaching increasingly comes in
quiet words only for Jared, spoken close enough that Jared can sometimes smell
the intoxicating scent of Mr. Ackles’ cologne, close enough to threaten the
fictional world they’re creating on stage.
Jared feels as though Mr. Ackles’ attention edges him into this incredible
creative space and he can tell he’s thriving there, but it also makes it hard
to exist outside it. He feels unhinged, and when they’re not at rehearsal, it –
and Mr. Ackles – is all he can think about. He wonders if this is what it’s
like to be an addict, getting high off being close to Mr. Ackles and an
unsteady, antsy mess in between hits.
Mr. Ackles is an impressive speaker and director, not that there was ever any
doubt. He’s so composed and elegant in every way, articulate and commanding,
but Jared sees something else, too, something he thinks he’s not meant to. He
wonders at first if he’s delusional, his own worsening desperation feeding a
fantasy, but more and more he’s convinced that’s not the case. Mr. Ackles’ eyes
linger on him – he swears he can fucking feel it, every time – make him shiver
and get weak in the knees. As close as he gets to him in order to give Jared
quiet guidance, Mr. Ackles nevertouches him, not in the casual, nothing sort of
way his hands seem to always find the arms or shoulders of other cast members.
And Jared spends more time looking at Mr. Ackles than he knows, strictly
speaking, is normal. It means he sees moments when it’s clear Mr. Ackles
doesn’t know he’s being observed, and something weary and a lot like sadness
settles on his beautiful features. He absentmindedly spins the worn gold band
on his left hand while sipping his coffee, and even though Jared can’t explain
why, it makes his heart hurt.
Jared finds himself growing brave by how consumed he is with want for Mr.
Ackles, how Mr. Ackles seems to watch him – the heat of his gaze that feels so
much like an echo of how Jared feels – and soon fantasizing about being alone
with him starts to be followed up with ideas of how he might make it happen.
Jared has no idea what he’s doing and he knows that it’s dangerous, but it
becomes more and more clear to him with every passing day: he doesn’t have a
choice. He’ll risk it all – the role, his scholarship, maybe even his future
career. He wants to see Mr. Ackles really smile, and he wants to be the reason
why.
 
---
 
Another couple of weeks and a handful of rehearsals go by before Jared finds
his courage – or reaches his limit, he’s honestly not sure which it is driving
him most at this point. They are less than a month to opening night. The play
should be the most important thing in his life, but it isn’t and Jared can’t
think straight. Even Chad, whom he speaks to primarily through text, has asked
him what the hell is going on lately. It’s been easy enough to brush off as
stress from the show, but he feels bad lying to his best friend. It’s just…
what is he supposed to say? Actually, Chad, I think I’m in love. With my
director. The famous Jensen Ackles who is twenty years older than me, married,
and out of my league in every way.Yeah fucking right. That would go over real
well.
It isn’t lost on him how crazy this is, but Jared has always been a bit of a
romantic. This must be love, he figures. And as he waits outside the auditorium
for Mr. Ackles to finish up with Gen, he’s nervous but there’s an odd sense of
calm helping him keep together because this is it. He’s really going to get Mr.
Ackles alone and– well, actually, he really doesn’t know much more than that
but the weighted feeling in his gut tells him he’ll know more after, anyway. He
leans against the wall, hears the muffled end of their conversation from far
within the room as they bid each other goodbye, and taps his foot anxiously,
tugging at the sleeves of his blazer.
“Jared!” Gen says as she steps outside and sees him, momentarily startled, but
then her expression somehow softens and becomes knowing all at once. “Whatcha
doin’?”

The look she gives him makes him wary but he steels himself against it, because
he has perfectly legitimate reasons for hanging around (even if they aren’t
why).
“I was just hoping to catch Mr. Ackles before he left. For some clarification
on how he wants me to play Proctor’s confession.” He delivers it easily, and
feels a tiny swell of pride because he can do this, he can. Gen just smiles at
him a little wider.
“Uh huh,” she finally answers, hands on her hips. “Whatever. Go get him,
tiger.”
She winks, then wags her eyebrows at him, and Jared is so stunned his face gets
hot almost as fast as his jaw drops. He starts to splutter out a terrified,
revealing what but Gen just laughs and reaches for his arm.
“Oh, please. Like I can’t see the way you look at each other. You’re a goner.
And that man wants you, Jay. Who would say no to that?!” She fans herself to
make her point but Jared still can’t process what she’s saying – his brain
stuck on the idea that Mr. Ackles wants him, enough that even Gen thinks she
knows – and he keeps gaping at her, open mouthed like an idiot. “I’m not going
to say anything, honest. He’s not really a teacher here anyway, right? And who
cares. He’s Jensen Ackles. I just want all the dirty details, okay? Have pity
on a girl, will ya?”

She’s grinning again and it’s all Jared can do to nod at her and clear his
throat.
“Amazing,” she says, apparently satisfied. She leans in close, standing up on
her tippy toes in a mock attempt to whisper in his ear, still too high for her
even though he instinctively starts to lean down to meet her. “Good luck.”

She wanders away after that and Jared can only stand there watching her go,
wide-eyed and head spinning. He tries not to panic, tries not to wonder how
obvious he is to anyone else, hoping Gen is just weirdly perceptive or has an
overactive imagination. His heart is pounding just this side of out of control,
almost unbearably loud in the otherwise quiet and vacant hallway, when he hears
a shuffling from inside the auditorium and it snaps him out of it. Mr. Ackles.
This is his chance. He’s got to get in there, now, before Mr. Ackles leaves.
He takes a deep breath, straightens his tie, and makes himself take those
steps, pushing through the door and letting it close behind him.
Mr. Ackles is on the far side of the room standing at the edge of the stage,
gathering up papers and notebooks to slip into his open briefcase. He doesn’t
seem to have heard Jared come in, engrossed in his task, so Jared takes the
moment to breathe again, his eyes fixed on the unreal object of his obsession.
He swallows thickly and clears his throat as he moves towards his director.
“Mr. Ackles?”
Mr. Ackles turns toward him at the sound, green eyes bright even from across
the room. Jared tentatively shortens the distance between them.
“Jared,” Mr. Ackles answers, blinking in surprise, then straightening up fully
and fidgeting with the knot of his tie as he finds his composure. He’s wearing
a cream sweater that looks soft as butter with the sleeves rolled to his elbows
over a grey collared shirt and charcoal tie, handsome and immaculate as ever.
“What can I do for you?”
Jared draws closer to him as though falling into orbit, pulled in by forces
completely out of his control. He stops just short of being dangerously too
close, by some small miracle. Mr. Ackles just watches him quietly through the
lenses of his glasses, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly in question, both of
his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks. For one too-long second, Jared
can only look back at him, transfixed by Mr. Ackles’ gaze, until he finds his
voice.
“Um, I–” he clears his throat and looks around anxiously in a way he knows is
telling before making himself look at Mr. Ackles again, which may be a mistake
after all. Mr. Ackles’ own face has a faint shade of pink to it, and while his
expression is blank, it looks about as ready to crumble as Jared’s. “I had
hoped, maybe, if you had a minute, we could…”
Jared’s heart is thunder in his ears and his mouth is suddenly dry. His breath
is shaky and there’s a voice in his head screaming no,don’t! but it’s lost
under the noise of it all. Jared takes another step closer and it’s
unmistakably deliberate. Without words, he’s starting to say what he doesn’t
know how to, and Jensen’s face falters, his lips part slightly on a thinly
veiled gasp, and Jared’s eyes don’t miss the bob of Mr. Ackles’ Adam’s apple in
his throat.
“…go over how you want me to handle Proctor’s confession.” Jared would be
fucking pleased with himself for getting the lie out but he can barely think
that far. He’s in Mr. Ackles’ space, so much so that the man tried in vain to
back up, but only found himself against the stage with nowhere to go. Jared is
terrified, and at any minute he wouldn’t be surprised if his heart gave out
completely and he dropped to the ground at Mr. Ackles’ feet, but he’s come too
far now to back down.
Mr. Ackles has to feel what’s happening here – Jared really hasn’t been
imagining things – because he takes too long to answer, and when he finally
clears his throat as if he’s about to finally say something, his hands come up
out of his pockets. It’s clear he means to push Jared away at first, his palms
up defensively as they move towards Jared, but as soon as they connect with
Jared’s arms, just below his shoulders, Mr. Ackles lets out a shaky exhale and
his fingers close around Jared instead.
“Jared,” Mr. Ackles rumbles, his voice low and rough in a way that makes heat
pool instantly in Jared’s gut. Jared has to bite the inside of his cheek to
keep from making a pathetic sound. Mr. Ackles only says his name but it’s at
once a warning and an invitation – Jared hears all the notes of Mr. Ackles’
conflict in that tiny sound, and it’s just enough for him.
Jared shuffles forward awkwardly, knocking his feet into Mr. Ackles’, and he
reaches for him with trembling hands. He has to brace himself lest he
completely shake apart, and while Mr. Ackles’ grip on him tightens he doesn’t
push or pull, just lets. He allows Jared to clumsily tilt his chin and press
their lips together.
Jared has only ever kissed one boy before, and it wasn’t particularly special.
It never went anywhere. He doesn’t have a lot of experience, and when Mr.
Ackles doesn’t immediately kiss him back, he panics. He doesn’t know what he’s
doing, he’s not sure when he last remembered to take a breath, and he could be
about to pass out at any moment. He pulls back sharply, not far, just enough to
suck in a desperate breath, but then Mr. Ackles’ has let go of his shoulders
and there’s a large, warm hand sliding up his jaw.
“Jared,” Mr. Ackles says again, this time breathy and quiet, just before he
leans in and kisses Jared back. Jared does whimper this time, he can’t help it.
Mr. Ackles is kissing him, and when his tongue edges past Jared’s lips, Jared
thinks he could very easily die from this. Jared feels hot and weak all over,
and as he melts into the kiss he lets himself melt against Mr. Ackles’ body,
too. Mr. Ackles’ other hand is in the small of his back, and when their hips
connect, Jared can feel Mr. Ackles’ dick, hot and hard where it presses against
him, and it makes him shudder and whimper again.
Then Mr. Ackles is pushing him away, putting just enough distance between them.
Jared blinks, surprised, and pants, trying to catch his breath while Mr. Ackles
does the same.
“God, Jared…” Mr. Ackles sounds pained, and he puts a hand through his hair,
tugging in a way that makes him look unhinged when coupled with the flush in
his face and the heavy rise and fall of his chest. “We– I…”
He looks at Jared with unmasked agony, and Jared’s heart swells, dangerously
close to breaking because he thinks he knows what’s coming.
“I know, M–Mr. Ackles. That you’re–” he gestures weakly to Mr. Ackles’ left
hand. “But… I don’t care. I– you… Please. Please.”
He doesn’t know what else to say, how he can possibly use words to tell Mr.
Ackles what he’s feeling. Mr. Ackles just looks at him, their eyes locked,
assessing, and Jared’s heart is in his throat. Finally, Mr. Ackles sighs and
looks away, just for a moment before reaching for Jared again. Jared stumbles
forward, his face chasing Mr. Ackles’ hand, pressing into his palm completely
on instinct. Mr. Ackles’ strokes his cheek with his thumb.
“Jared, I won’t lie to you. This, this is… something. It’s not… I haven’t…” Mr.
Ackles laughs and looks away again, almost like he’s embarrassed, and Jared
isn’t sure he follows but for the briefest moment he’s a little less scared
than he was, a fleeting sense of hope until– “But I can’t do this. Not… not
like this.”
Mr. Ackles just keeps caressing his face, and Jared struggles to think past all
the places where they’re touching, confused, not sure what Mr. Ackles is trying
to tell him.
“You mean… with me? Because… I’m– I’m–” Seventeen. Younger than your kids. Your
student.Jared isn’t sure what to say first. There are so many reasons why this
is a terrible idea and suddenly he feels foolish and frightened again, all the
insane bravado of the moments leading to this completely spent.
“No. Well, yes. But also because of me. None of it is fair. Just… go home
tonight. Sleep. Let me– give me time. Can you do that, Jared? I know you can
act through this. You’ve been acting through this. Can you keep doing that? For
me?”
Mr. Ackles pleads gently with his voice and his eyes, and Jared still isn’t
sure what he’s asking for – just knows he’s being turned away – but the way Mr.
Ackles asks… what choice does Jared have? He’s known from the first he’d do
whatever Mr. Ackles might ask of him. He just… wishes it were something –
anything – but this.
He doesn’t trust himself with words, so instead he nods and fights the way his
eyes want to well up, refuses to act as young as Mr. Ackles must think him. He
grapples to find a facade to hide behind, any armour at all that could possibly
protect him after being so exposed.
“Okay. Okay,” Mr. Ackles whispers, nodding as well. Jared is still frozen in
place, and Mr. Ackles’ face softens as he watches him. He must be able to see
right through him. He smiles sadly and leans in, kissing Jared on the cheek
while Jared’s heart seems to shrivel up in his chest.
Jared just stands there, still unable to make himself take the first step out
of this moment, away from this thing he can’t have but has to somehow live
through.
“Good night, Jared,” Mr. Ackles says softly, trying to break Jared out of his
trance; it’s just enough. Jared has been properly dismissed now, and finally,
without conscious thought, his feet start to move, turning him and making for
the door. Mr. Ackles doesn’t say another word.
Jared is hollow and heavy all at once, and by the time he kicks off his shoes
and crawls fully clothed under his covers, he’s vaguely aware that he has no
idea how he even got back to his dorm.
 
---
 
Jensen thought it would take longer, honestly, for him to make a decision. His
personal life has been a sham and a miserable one at that for the majority of
his life. He’s been unhappy for so long what difference is a little longer? And
yet, he’s almost sure by the time he gets home.
It was a matter of time with Jared, really. Jensen has been clinging to his
restraint by a thread for weeks now, kept in check possibly only by the
remnants of the same fears that cornered him into a marriage with a woman he
never loved, fears of judgement and what should be. But deep down he knew if
given the chance he couldn’t deny the boy or how he feels about him. When he
looked up in the auditorium to see Jared standing there, alone, coming for him
– he knew it was over; this was their breaking point. God, the way Jared looks
at him. He’s beautiful and genuine, transparent and brazen in a way that Jensen
can’t help but admire and absolutely want to succumb to. He will succumb to –
would have tonight, except… there’s already too much at stake here, too many
reasons for this to be wrong, and Jensen is determined to do it right.
It nearly killed him to do it – send Jared away – especially because he could
see that the boy doesn’t understand what Jensen intends to do, could see that
he was hurting him, but he’ll make it up to him, if Jared will let him.
Even if he’s lost his chance with Jared, Jensen’s heart and mind are made up as
he walks into the house. He has to do this for himself. Before Jared, he was
resigned to the life he always led. Now, somehow, Jared has reminded him what
life feels like, just by existing. And then– the soft press of his
inexperienced lips, the taste of his certainly virgin mouth– fuck. Jensen
didn’t know he was still capable of yearning like this. That revelation alone
is enough to help manifest his resolve: things have to change. He cannot go on
like this.
He sets his things down in the kitchen with a surprising calm. The house is
quiet, but her car is in the garage, so Jensen makes his way upstairs. He has
no clear notion as to what he’s going to say but he knocks on her door.
“Amelia? May I come in?” There’s a moment before she answers.
“You may,” comes from behind the door, and Jensen turns the handle to enter.
Amelia is in her pajamas, lounging on her bed. She looks at him from over the
book she’s reading, wearing a questioning expression because it’s not like him
to come to her; usually it’s the other way around. Something must show on his
face because her eyes narrow and she slowly closes her book and sets it down,
deliberately sitting up.
“Jensen?” She prompts, wary.
He looks at her a moment more, sees their life together – his life – their
distant children and decades of memories that bring him so little joy, and the
calm he feels only persists. This is right, and long overdue.
“I’m leaving you, Amelia,” he states plainly, and her eyes widen in surprise,
though her lips purse and twist up in a strange parody of a smile, like somehow
she knew. “I don’t want a fight. The house is yours, if you want it. I want
little apart from my car and personal belongings – the rest you can keep to do
with as you like.”
He stands his ground firmly at the foot of her bed, feeling free, as though a
weight he didn’t realize he was carrying has been taken from him, and he takes
an easier breath even as she watches him with sharp, assessing eyes. When she
fails to say anything, he can’t help but feel obliged to continue.
“Amelia, our life together has been–” he falters, not knowing exactly what to
say, because it hasn’t been sunshine and she knows this “– trying, at times,
but not entirely–”
“Spare me the bullshit, Jensen,” she cuts him off abruptly. “My heart hasn’t
been in this marriage in years, and yours? Looking back, I’m not convinced it
ever was. After all this time, like I didn’t know this was coming. Like I don’t
know what you are.”
Jensen’s eyes narrow at that and his fists clench at his sides, his body tense
and defensive. His expression must be questioning because–
“That you like dick, Jensen. Always have, haven’t you? It certainly explains a
lot. Honestly, I thought you’d call it all off when the kids both left. The
only surprise here is that you took so long to find your balls. Even I thought
you had more to you than that, and yet here we are, years later, still
miserable, still together.”
She talks with her hands, gestures to the space between them and her tone is
harsh even now. Then her eyes widen in newfound understanding and she fixes him
with a knowing, lewd glare.
“You met someone,” it’s a statement, not a question, and Jensen hates that
despite how fractured they’ve been for so long, she can still read him, still
knows him. He feels his cheeks warm and knows there’s nothing he can say or do
to deny it. He huffs in frustration and she laughs, the sound grating. “Of
course.”
She stands up now and comes toward him. Jensen doesn’t move but he does look
away as she enters his space, feeling vaguely threatened because of the way she
leans in too close.
“You would need someone else to find your balls for you,” she hisses, on tiptoe
so he feels her breath on his lips. Her tone is accusatory, and Jensen
bristles, starting to answer impulsively, giving himself away.
“We haven’t– I wouldn’t– not yet…” he trails off. He doesn’t owe her an
explanation, especially when she probably doesn’t believe him either way. She
stays where she is even as she makes a disbelieving tsking noise with her
tongue. He won’t look at her, won’t give her the satisfaction of reacting again
while she goads him. She hovers there, her lips just brushing his, waiting. For
a long, uncomfortable moment they stand like this, and Jensen wonders if she
really does want to kiss him one last time or if she’s just trying to make his
skin crawl on purpose. Finally, she stands back, giving him some space so he
can breathe, and he dares look at her. She doesn’t look happy or sad, really –
just, is. Tired, maybe.
“Well, congratulations. I hope you’re very happy together,” she says finally,
crossing her arms over her chest, and Jensen honestly can’t tell if she’s being
serious or furious in an eerily contained way. “I’m keeping the house,
obviously. You can collect the rest of your things later.”
The look she gives him now is decisive and conveys clearly that he is welcome
to take his leave. He nods, a little stunned actually, because he feared this
would go much worse, and he makes for the door. He stops just before pulling it
shut and looks back at her. She’s watching him still, and he hesitates just
another heartbeat.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. She doesn’t react.
“I am sorry,” he adds gently. It’s true, for his part. It was a life that never
should have been, really. Jensen sees that clearly now, but he can’t take it
back. And she could have always left him, too, but it’s not like she didn’t get
anything out of their charade. He does hope she’ll find someone who’ll love her
the way he never could. For the first time, he entertains the thought that she
already has, and he’s just never noticed. Her stoic expression softens for just
a moment and she nods, looking for the first time in a long time like the girl
he met back in Texas, back at school, and then she waves her hand to really
dismiss him.
He goes to his room to pack a suitcase with clothing and the things he’ll need
for the immediate future. He’s not sad as he chooses which things to take nor
when he places his wedding band on the dresser nor when considers the room –
house, life – he’s leaving behind. He only has a new life – his life – ahead,
and maybe – just maybe – if he’s lucky, he’ll have Jared, too.
 
---
 
Jared can’t make himself get out of bed the next morning. He didn’t intend to
cut class, but he feels terrible, his stomach tight and twisted, and there’s no
way he has the strength to conjure up a mask to properly hide behind. He
doesn’t leave the dorm for breakfast, laying awake and staring at the ceiling,
listening to the muffled noises of his classmates moving in the hallway outside
his door, getting ready for their days.
He dreamt of Mr. Ackles last night, but it wasn’t a dream like he had before,
the kind that would make him embarrassed in the morning except for how good he
feels. Instead, Mr. Ackles was everywhere Jared was, or, Jared was everywhere
Mr. Ackles was, anyway. It was like Jared was a fly on the wall, almost. He was
always so close but Mr. Ackles couldn’t see him or hear him, never responded no
matter what Jared said, how loud, or if he tried to touch him. He was a ghost.
He woke up after watching Mr. Ackles kiss a faceless woman, that sick feeling
in his stomach so strong he worried he might be sick, might actually be tasting
bile at the back of his mouth, and his eyes burned with more tears he refused
to let fall. He refused to cry about this. He would not act like a child, would
not be what he feared Mr. Ackles saw him as, maybe the reason he turned him
away.
He does nothing all day but lay about, in and out of fitful sleep, and ignores
the multitude of Chad’s texts that started last night when he failed to message
him back before bed. The texts have gone through all the stages of joking,
irritation, and now, possibly genuine worry on his friend’s part. He doesn’t
have anything to say to him, or anyone. Not today.
He knows he can’t stay in his room like this forever, but classes finish and
it’s time for rehearsal – Jared doesn’t go. Just today, he tells himself. He
needs the breather. Just enough time to figure out if it’s even worth staying.
He’s been thinking about home all day, and how Texas doesn’t have Mr. Ackles in
it, and whether or not that’s what he wants, if he can face him again after
all.
He hates that he’s even considering it – going home. He worked for this his
whole life and he’s so close to where he wants to be, but somehow it all pales
in comparison to how he feels about Mr. Ackles. Mr Ackles who told him to go
home. Keep acting.
There’s a gentle knock at Jared’s door and he jumps, blinking as he sits
upright.
“Jared? It’s Gen. Come on, open up,” the request is spoken kindly, enough that
while he wants to ignore her, Jared makes himself get up and shuffle to the
door.
“Oh, sweetie,” she says when she sees him. She slips inside quickly – not
supposed to be in the boys’ corridor – and hugs him before he has a chance to
argue. “You look terrible. Talk to me, Jay.”
Jared sighs and looks down at her as she lets him go. The thought of saying it
out loud – any of it – makes him feel stupid all over again.
“He asked after you, you know,” she offers when Jared says nothing. Jared can’t
help but perk up to hear it, even if his heart still stings. “He seemed
worried. It’s not like you to miss rehearsal.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not like me to hit on a professor and get reject–” Jared cuts
himself off on a gasp, embarrassed for putting it out there, and the ache in
his chest throbbing anew to have almost admitted it out loud, making it that
much more real. He turns away to hide his face from her and she reaches out a
hand to touch his shoulder sympathetically.
She gives him a moment before speaking again.
“Jay, what happened?”

Jared sighs again before turning around to face her. “He told me he can’t. Told
me to go, asked me to keep acting. As in, the show must go on, I guess.”

She looks apologetic. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I can’t… I’ve never–” he can’t make himself say it.
“You’re in love with him,” she says it for him because apparently he is that
transparent. His eyes well up instantly and he swallows hard, nodding.
“I’m sorry, Jay,” she whispers, and hugs him again. She doesn’t let go right
away, just stays like that, and after a beat he lets himself hug her back,
bending to bury his face in her shoulder. He does cry a little then, silently,
and if she notices, she doesn’t say anything, just holds him and rubs his back.
He’d been hiding from the world and what happened all day and he’s suddenly
very grateful she’s here.
When he’s calmed down and trusts himself to keep it together, he finally lets
her go.
“I can only imagine how you feel and how hard it might be, but you cannot quit
and go home, Jared Padalecki,” she says firmly. Jared blinks.
“W-what?” He stutters out. How does she always know?!
“Mr. Ackles still wants you in the play, obviously. And you’re easily the most
talented actor in this school. You fucking earned this place, and this role,
and you cannot quit now. You will just have to act your way through this. Fake
it till you make it, right? If anyone can do this, it’s you. Act so well that
Mr. Ackles will regret turning you down every time he sees you on stage, yeah?”

Jared doesn’t feel even a fraction of the confidence Gen is projecting on his
behalf right now, but he knows she’s right. He’s already lost Mr. Ackles. If he
gave up on the rest, it would mean losing everything.
“Promise me you’ll come to class tomorrow? And rehearsal after?”
“Okay. I promise,” Jared finally agrees, and Gen smiles brightly.
“I will hold you to it, Jared. I might be small but I am mighty!” She laughs,
pretending to put her fists up like she’ll fight him, then playfully hitting
his shoulder. He laughs, too, and it feels nice. Maybe he can do this.

“Alright, I’m outta here, before we both get caught and expelled or something,”
she winks and waves as she slips through the door.

Jared stares at the door long after she’s gone, and that empty feeling is still
there, the heavy one that set in when he walked away from Mr. Ackles last
night, but Jared is going to try. He is. Tomorrow he will pretend to be Jared
from before – before Mr. Ackles.
 
---
 
Jensen watches the door to the auditorium obsessively as the cast and crew file
in after class, his heart in his throat the whole while. When Gen comes through
the doors with Jared following closely on her heels, Jensen breathes a huge
sigh of relief even as his heart aches. Jared looks like he hasn’t slept in the
two days since Jensen saw him last, a little pale with dark circles under his
eyes, and Jensen has worked in the industry long enough to know when a person
is pretending to be someone else – has done it enough himself his entire life
to see Jared doing it now.
Jensen has thought of little else since taking up residence at the Beverly
Wilshire Hotel, not too far from the school. He hasn’t even called a realtor
yet, leaving it to the weekend in favour of breathing in deeply his newfound
freedom and letting Jared properly take up all the room in his thoughts and his
heart. He wasn’t entirely surprised that Jared wasn’t at rehearsal yesterday
but his worry was more profound and alarming than he expected. He was only
mildly eased when he approached Gen as they wrapped and she reassured him she
would check in.
Now that he’s here, and Jensen has the vague hope of a plan, they just have to
get through the next few hours. He tries to offer Jared a private smile as they
get started, but Jared is decidedly avoiding him while he can. Jensen can’t
really blame him. A few more hours and Jensen will make this right, or try to,
anyway. Just a few more short hours.
 
---
 
Jared performs admirably on stage, like nothing had happened between them. It’s
a marvel to watch and Jensen is more impressed – and more in love – than he
thought he could be. Jared is a rare creature, and Jensen is increasingly
jittery as the rehearsal draws to a close. As the students pack up their
things, Jensen finds his voice as he fully inhabits his role as director, and
doesn’t hesitate to venture towards Jared and Gen where they’re putting on
their blazers in anticipation of leaving.
“Jared?” He ventures, and both of them turn to face him. Jared’s cheeks pink up
visibly but otherwise he appears stoically unaffected. Jensen’s pride only
blooms further.
“Yes, Mr. Ackles?” Jared answers quietly.
 If you could hang around after rehearsal, there’s a couple scenes I wanted to
go over with you,” Jensen delivers the request easily, and Jared hesitates a
moment to answer, until Gen nudges him.
“Yeah– I mean, yes. Of course,” Jared finally agrees, and Jensen nods, then
turns to head back to his mess of notes and director’s chair, but not before
catching a revealing look from Gen to Jared out of the corner of his eye. So
maybe Gen knows. Well, if this goes their way, eventually… everyone will know,
so. Jensen tells himself it doesn’t matter. Nothing has rained down on him
since the other day, so neither of them have said anything yet. And the
production is speeding towards opening night. It won’t be long now.
Jensen busies himself with his papers, keeping Jared in his peripheral, Jared
who makes a show of taking his time while all the other students file out until
it’s just him and Gen and Jensen. Jared and his friend have a hurried, hushed
conversation before Gen leaves, too, and then they’re alone again. The heavy
thud and click of the auditorium doors echoes in the big room and Jensen stops
what he’s doing to turn and face Jared fully. He smiles encouragingly and
gestures with a tilt of his head for Jared to come over.
Jared walks over silently, eyes on Jensen the whole time, that unshy, brazen
naivety shining through like it did two days ago, and Jensen is filled with
hope. Jared stops a few feet away, dropping his messenger bag on the floor at
his feet and fixing Jensen with a strong look, even as he shifts where he
stands, a little unsure underneath it all.
“Have a seat, Jared?” Jensen gestures to the stage, and Jared goes over and
hops up, sitting on the edge. It puts him just a little bit higher than Jensen,
but Jensen has a sneaking suspicion that Jared is going to be taller than him
anyway, when all is said and done. Jared watches anxiously as Jensen moves
towards him, stopping just short of putting his hands on Jared’s knees. 
“Jared, I’m sorry about Wednesday – about how I left things with you. I don’t
think I was very clear. I didn’t mean to let you think I wasn’t… that I don’t…”
he takes a deep breath and lets himself get a little lost in the changing hazel
of Jared’s eyes. “You have to understand, my private life… everything about it
has been wrong for so long, I needed to do this right. For myself, and… for
you.”

He can feel that he has all of Jared’s attention, the weight of it and the
boy’s hopes in his gaze. Jensen prays they’re hoping for the same thing. “I…
I’ve left my wife, Jared.”
Jared’s eyes go wide now, almost comically so. A tentative smile breaks across
his beautiful face and Jensen can’t help but mirror it, even though Jared looks
as though he’s trying to stifle it, not look so excited or jump to the wrong
conclusion.
“R-really?” Jared stutters out, a little wetly, and Jensen wants nothing more
than to wrap Jared in his arms and keep him smiling forever.
“Yes, really,” Jensen answer easily. It feels so good to say, and he does reach
for Jared, then. His hands light on each of Jared’s knees, which fall open
instinctively so that Jensen can move between them. “I… don’t know what you see
in an old man like me, Jared, but… if I was going to offer myself to you, I was
going to offer all of me. If… if you’ll have me?”
He speaks in the close space between them then, and Jared chokes out a
relieved, overwhelmed laugh-like breath, and tilts his head to wipe the corner
of his eye on his shoulder. He’s enchanting, and Jensen is completely under his
spell; he never wants to be anywhere else. Jared starts to nod a little and
reach for Jensen’s shoulders but Jensen has to hear it.
“Is that a yes, Jared?” Jensen presses, desperate for the words.
“Y-yes. Yes, please,” Jared gets out, a little giddy, and Jensen doesn’t waste
another second.
He reaches for Jared’s face and tips his chin up to kiss him. He wants to keep
it chaste, at least to start, to go easy, but Jared undoes him. He has a lot to
learn but his enthusiasm goes a long way, his mouth parting against Jensen’s as
readily as the spread of his knees, and Jensen can’t turn down the invitation.
It’s dangerous – doing this here – but Jensen can’t bring himself to care.
Jared makes these tiny, broken sounds as Jensen’s tongue sweeps through his
mouth, tasting all of him and drinking him in, more heady than any liquor
Jensen knows.
Jensen controls the kiss, and soon Jared is mimicking what he does –
unsurprisingly a quick study – slipping his tongue into Jensen’s mouth to
taste, too. Jensen moans and sucks at the tip of it, thrilling when he feels
Jared shiver at the pull. There’s a voice in the back of his mind trying to
remind him where they are, that anyone could walk in and see, but Jared is a
drug and he’s already flooded Jensen’s system completely. He’s losing control
more with every second.
Jensen is trying to restrain himself, trying not to rush this because even
though he's told Amelia it's over, and this was so much a part of that, Jared
is so young. He's a goddamn kid, Christ, and Jensen feels so fucking shameful
for wanting him so badly, for letting him think for even a second that maybe
Jensen didn’t want him, but Jared didn't reject him. He's eager and Jensen can
tell he's hasn't done much yet but it’s crystal clear he wants to, so much, and
Jensen can't say no to his big, puppy dog eyes, especially not when he pushes
Jensen back to give himself room to hop off the stage and then drops to the
floor in between the spread of Jensen's feet to beg him so prettily, pleading,
even though his hands tremble nervously while they clutch at the material of
Jensen's pants on his thighs, tugging a little.

"Please, Mr. Ackles," Jared breathes, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet
his lips as he hovers in front of Jensen’s fly, looking up at him with such
longing that Jensen knows it’s not even a question; he never stood a chance.
But Jensen's heart stutters in his chest – he can't have that, have Jared
calling him that, not when they're like this now, not with what Jared is asking
to do, even though it makes him burn a little hotter inside, too. He reaches
down, one hand covering Jared's on his leg and the other to cup his face, his
thumb stroking over Jared's cheek.

"Just– Jensen, now, okay?"

Jared nods quickly even as the flush in his cheeks impossibly deepens.

"Jensen, please. Let me?" He asks again and the hand that Jensen isn't covering
braves further up his leg, teasing, trying, tentatively getting closer to the
undeniable bulge in Jensen's pants that presses aggressively against his
zipper. Jensen tries not to choke. He squeezes Jared's hand and doesn't trust
himself to speak, he can only nod. He lets go of Jared then and makes himself
relax back against the stage. He only barely finds his voice when Jared's shaky
fingers make it to his belt, and the silent question in Jared's eyes coaxes a
hushed "it's okay, go ahead, baby" from him. He doesn't mean to call Jared
that, he hasn't called anyone that before – it just slips out – but Jared's
face softens at the name and he seems encouraged, undoing the buckle and moving
to the button and zipper behind.

Jensen can't imagine anyone wants this more than he does, after a lifetime of
stilted, awkward, unwanted sexual experiences with his wife, but when Jared
looks at him from under the mess of his bangs as he opens Jensen's pants,
Jensen is overwhelmed by the desperate want he sees in Jared's eyes. It looks
like how he feels, and even though so much makes him worry that this is wrong,
and they really, really shouldn’t be doing this here, what he sees in Jared’s
face makes him realize they’re right – this thing between them, it just has to
be. Jensen can't stay still, the nervous energy and anticipation making it hard
for him to let his hands be, so he gently brushes Jared's hair back behind his
ears, keeps the fingers of one hand laced in it, trying not to hold on too
tightly even though he wants to just to steady himself. Jared reaches into the
slit in Jensen's briefs and when his fingers meet Jensen's overheated, achingly
hard dick, Jensen can't help but gasp and shudder. He's never felt like this in
his entire life. He doesn't mean to, but he tugs Jared's hair as reflex. Jared
echoes him then, gasping and shuddering but leaning into it, chasing the pull
with a blissed out expression on his face, his own grip tightening around
Jensen's cock as he pulls it out.

"Jared– Jared, you... like that?" Jensen rasps out. Jared bites his lip and
nods wordlessly, blushing a furious red as he pulls against the grip Jensen has
in his hair, testing it, and his lashes flutter at the pleasure of it.

"Shit," Jensen hisses, and there's something burning in him, a churning low in
his stomach, wild and rising and it feels a little bit dangerous. "Okay. Okay,
baby. Keep goin'."

Jared sighs in relief as he leans forward, holding Jensen with a hand lightly
wrapped around the base of him, and places an almost chaste kiss to the head of
Jensen's cock. Jensen has to close his eyes because the sight alone has him
dangerously close already. It's embarrassing but Jared is making him feel like
a damn teenager, like this is his first time, too, though in many ways it might
as well be. His eyes fly open when he feels the tip of Jared's tongue press and
wiggle into his leaking slit. Jared's eyes are closed and he lets out a little
moan, then starts to suck at the head, gentle, then starts to experiment with
his tongue, rolling it in a wave just under the crown, and Jensen is white
knuckling Jared's hair now, holding on for dear life.
He's not going to make it much longer, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Jared looks
sublime, his lips obscenely wide around the width of Jensen's dick but pursed
tight as he keeps on sucking, spit escaping the corners of his mouth and making
it messy. He’s sucking harder now, like he's trying to drink Jensen down – like
he's about to be doing. He's breathing loudly through his nose, but he starts
to try and take more of Jensen into his mouth without pulling off, the
throbbing pull of his mouth getting faster, insistent, more desperate. Jensen
fights the urge to pull Jared down, to force himself in, but only just; he does
tug enough to encourage him – an aborted jerk of his hand in Jared's hair – but
Jared only whimpers and sinks deeper onto his cock.

He splutters as it's too much too fast, and Jensen panics. His fingers relax
and he lets go of Jared's head to let him up, leaning forward instinctively and
reaching for his face.

"Jared– I'm sorry, I–"

But Jared is shaking his head, his hair moving wildly. His eyes are glistening
and wet at the corners but he looks so painfully beautiful, his face cradled in
Jensen's palms. Jared's fingers circle his wrists and pull his arms away, out
of the way, and he takes a deep, rough breath.

"It's okay, I'm okay. I wanna– just– let me, please. You... taste so good," the
last part is whispered and let out in a rush, barely brave enough to admit,
possibly unsure he wants Jensen to hear it, and it's said with such earnestness
that want spikes through Jensen, hot and sharp.

"Fuck, baby– you're killing me. I'm not– not going to last very long, I'm
sorry."

Jared's eyes go wide, seemingly awed that he could be having this effect. He
blinks once then dips down again, taking Jensen back into his mouth with
purpose. Jensen's whole body shudders to return to that tight, wet heat, then
he reaches to put his hands on the back of Jared's head, not pulling or
pushing, just an easy, constant pressure, his fingers twitching against Jared's
soft, messy hair. Jared sucks eagerly at his dick, hungry for it, and jacks
what he can't fit in his mouth with choppy, uncoordinated squeezes. It's sloppy
and new but it's Jared and he's perfect. Jensen is right there, barrelling
towards his release. He tries to speak, gets out a broken, stuttered Jared, and
tries to pull him off, but Jared only keens and keeps at it. Jensen's body
seizes as he comes, his breath rushing out of him on a long, low groan, and he
pulses into Jared's mouth. Jared backs off after the first wave on a loud,
broken moan, but keeps Jensen cradled on his lower lip, come splattering across
his face and dripping down his chin with his spit because it's filling his
mouth faster than he can swallow.
Jensen pants, fighting to catch his breath, his knees shaking as he leans
heavily on against the stage, and Jared does the same, blinking up at him with
a flushed face covered in Jensen’s come. The sight makes Jensen’s spent dick
twitch against Jared’s loose hold, and he reaches for Jared’s chin, tugging him
up.
“Come here, baby,” Jensen gets out huskily, and Jared clumsily tucks Jensen
back into his briefs before stumbling to his feet, looking dazed. “So good,
Jared. You were so good.”

Jensen murmurs against Jared’s swollen lips and cleans him up with small,
sucking kisses and little licks. Jared whines brokenly as Jensen does it,
clinging to Jensen’s sweater like he might drop back to the floor if he
doesn’t. Jensen reaches down with one hand to take care of Jared, finally feel
whatever he’s hiding under those uniform pants, but Jared whimpers and pulls
back from his kisses. Jensen is just about to ask if Jared’s okay when his
fingers brush a damp spot on Jared’s trousers and as the realization hits him,
Jensen’s words turn involuntarily to a groan and heat spikes through him again.
“Jared, beautiful boy,” he starts, and kisses him deeply. “Did you come from
that? From sucking me off?”
Jared nods, flustered, and looks away, sheepish. Jensen turns his face back
towards him and kisses him again.
“Christ, that’s hot,” Jensen mumbles against his lips, until Jared pulls back
to look at him.
“Really?” He asks, just above a whisper.
“Really,” Jensen smiles. “You– you’re going to be my ruin, Jared.”

Jared’s face lights up in echo of Jensen’s smile, and he leans forward to kiss
him. Jensen lets him a moment, then eases him back.
“We really shouldn’t stay here. Can you– what are the school’s rules? Can you
come with me?” Jensen lets him go begrudgingly to adjust himself and do up his
pants.
Jared looks as though Jensen told him Christmas just came early.
“Yeah– yes. I mean, it’s Friday. People leave for the weekend all the time. I
don’t usually because home is so far, but…”
Jensen smiles back at him and can only just keep the thought to himself that he
can be Jared’s home now. His thoughts astound him; he’s never been such a
romantic. He supposes that’s a function of the loveless life he led until now,
but it’s definitely new territory.
“Good. Did you want to change, or… grab some things? I’ll pull around to the
front of the school. If that’s– is that okay?” Jensen makes himself ask, giving
Jared the out. He has to know he can say no to him. The last thing Jensen wants
is to take advantage, take away the knowledge that it’s all Jared’s choice.
Jensen would do anything for him; it’s Jared who holds the power. 
Jared gives him a goofy grin that tells him how ridiculous he thinks Jensen is
for having asked.
“It’s more than okay. I’ll meet you out in front in ten,” Jared says in a happy
rush, reaching for his bag and taking a few steps towards the door before
turning and smiling demurely. “Jensen.”
He says Jensen’s name with a soft confidence and Jensen knows it’s just because
he can. Jensen’s lips quirk up warmly and he watches him go, feeling happier
than he can ever remember being.
 
---
 
This day doesn’t even feel real. Jared stares at himself in the massive mirror
of Jensen’s ensuite bathroom and he sees himself, knows this is where he is –
the ritziest hotel Jared’s ever set foot in – and this is who he’s with –
Jensen freakin’ Ackles, the goddamned Oscar-nominated director – but it all
sounds so unreal he can’t be sure what he’s seeing isn’t a dream. Not that what
or who Jensen is on that scale means much to Jared; he’s positive if Jensen
walked by him on the street, some unknown accountant or who knows what, Jared
would have been just as doomed. There’s just something about him. Jared might
never have been in love before now but he’s pretty sure that love like this,
it’s fated. He could never feel like this about someone else.
Jensen’s life could make Jared feel small and out of place – he drives James
Bond’s car, for fuck’s sake! – but Jensen doesn’t let it. He’s attentive, and
focused, and talks to Jared like he’s somehow just as special as Jensen. They
stopped at an In and Out Burger on the way to the hotel and got greasy food to
go. Jared swears he can still feel Jensen’s hand in the small of his back from
where he easily guided him from the valet out front of the hotel to his suite,
which might actually be bigger than Jared’s home back in Texas, but he can’t be
100% sure because he’s only really followed Jensen from the foyer to the
smaller, more intimate table where they ate in Jensen’s room, and now the
adjoining bathroom where he’s trying to wrap his head around all this.
Jared hasn’t ever been on a real date before, so he can’t compare with personal
experience, but he’s pretty sure this has been an amazing one. Jared is nervous
but not like he thought he’d be. The way that Jensen looks at him calms him, he
feels comfortable like somehow he already belongs here, and every time Jared’s
afraid he’s said something stupid Jensen laughs like he’s never seen him do
before at rehearsal. It’s big and full-bodied, and crinkles explode from the
corner of Jensen’s eyes like fireworks. He knows quickly that he’ll say the
dumbest things without hesitation if it means getting to see Jensen laugh like
that.
It hasn’t even occurred to him that whatever they’re doing is just for tonight,
or this weekend. Jensen, he– he left his wife. Jared’s heart feels so big he’s
not sure how it fits behind his ribs. Jensen has given up so much, is giving
Jared so much, and Jared doesn’t have a lot to give back but Jensen has to know
it’s all his – everything Jared is, it’s Jensen’s.
He looks at himself in the mirror again and feels a little sheepish. Jensen is
the most beautiful person Jared has ever seen, and he’s worked with beautiful
Hollywood actors, and Jared… Jared is seventeen with a messy mop of hair and a
body he hasn’t fully grown into yet. He’s tall and long limbed and kind of
gangly, too thin because he’s been growing up faster than he can grow out. He
blushes even as he looks over himself, and takes a deep breath.
This is real. Jensen is real, he really wants you, and you can do this.
He pulls his t-shirt up over his head and shakes his head to settle his hair,
then goes for his jeans. He kicks away the pile of clothes and stands there in
his grey boxer-briefs, trying not to lose his courage. He’s not brave enough to
go out there completely naked, but he’s pretty sure this will be enough to get
his message across. He’s half hard already just getting ready, the anticipation
more than his inexperienced, excited heart can handle. He takes one last big,
deep breath with his hand paused on the doorknob, and then just goes for it.
 
---
 
The evening has been incredibly pleasant and surprisingly easy. Jared is a
delight, makes him laugh so much he feels it in his stomach, and Jensen feels
rejuvenated just being with him. They come from different worlds but the
conversation has come naturally, so Jensen has been losing time in Jared’s
company. But Jared’s been in the bathroom a while now. It’s been quiet, and in
his brief absence, Jensen’s nerves have ratcheted up to eleven. It’s gotten
quite late, and now that they’re here Jensen wonders if he should be offering
to drive Jared back. It’s not that he doesn’t want him here – far from it – but
he took Jared from the school in a moment where his judgment might have been
clouded by the feel of Jared’s mouth on his cock and subsequent orgasm-induced
haze. Now it’s getting near midnight and they’re in Jensen’s hotel and maybe
Jared is hiding from him. Jensen wouldn’t blame him, either. Sitting on the
edge of his bed just to keep from anxiously pacing, Jensen can imagine the
pressure Jared must be feeling in this situation, and maybe it’s too much too
fast?
Jensen sighs and ditches his sweater, tossing it over the edge of a nearby
chair. He tugs his tie loose just to give himself a little room to breathe and
drums his fingers on his knees, trying to figure out the words to offer Jared
to put him more at ease when he finally comes out of the bathroom.
As if on cue, the handle turns and Jensen’s eyes fly to the door just as Jared
emerges.
In nothing but his underwear. 
He freezes when his eyes meet Jensen’s, and the pink in his cheeks darkens. His
shifts a little like he’s not sure what to do with his hands, but lets them
fall to his sides and stands there obviously for Jensen to look over.
Jensen’s breath gets momentarily trapped in his throat at the sight, and he
lets his eyes roam as Jared smiles at him shyly. Jared is all long limbs and
lean muscle, smooth skin that Jensen wants to kiss all over, and he’s hard, a
wet spot forming where he’s tenting his briefs with what is an impressively
long dick. Jensen’s mouth waters and he swallows hard.
Jared takes an unsteady step towards him and the movement snaps Jensen out of
his stupor.
“Jared, you don’t–” he has to clear his throat to try again. “You don’t have to
do this. We don’t have to do this tonight.”
Jared doesn’t hesitate then, just moves back into Jensen’s orbit with a hand on
each of his shoulders, and he knees his way onto the bed, straddling Jensen’s
hips and finally settling down in Jensen’s lap, his sweet little ass resting
soft and tempting on top of Jensen’s rapidly growing interest.
“I know that. But I want to,” Jared answers, leaning in to say it against
Jensen’s ear before placing a tiny kiss to the shell of it. 
Jensen doesn’t even remember getting his hands on Jared’s hips but he slides
them around to palm the soft skin of Jared’s back, and groans as he buries his
face in Jared’s neck.
“Do you… do you want to?” Jared asks, and there’s a note in his voice that
betrays his show of confidence, reminds Jensen all at once how young he is,
that it would be his first time, and– Christ– Jensen’s never actually done this
either. He leans back to make sure Jared is looking at him.
“So much, Jared. I really, really do. But I–” Jensen’s voice breaks and he has
to swallow hard, dig deep to admit this. “I haven’t ever actually done this
before. Not– not with a–”

He sighs.  Jared looks uncertain – eager, but anxious – and Jensen just doesn’t
want to keep secrets from him. He wants to do this right. “I haven’t been with
anyone but my– but her, ever. And not for a very long time.”

He has to stifle a laugh. He sounds pathetic, and it makes him cringe inside
but he has to get this out. “This is… it’s big, Jared. And I promise you, I
want to make it good. I don’t want to ever hurt you. You– you deserve the best
and I’m going to try to give it to you, okay? But only if you’re ready.”

He’s whispering by the time he’s done, not intentionally. Jared’s eyes have
softened, too, and they somehow seem closer, just the two of them not only in
this tiny space they’ve created but maybe, in this moment, the whole world. 
He reaches up to tuck a loose strand of Jared’s hair behind his ear, keeping
his hand cradling Jared’s face, his thumb stroking his cheek, feeling it push
up as Jared grins.
“I’m ready,” he says earnestly. “I– I want it to be you. Want… to be yours,”
his cheeks flush impossibly deeper, and he looks away quickly, hiding his face
against Jensen’s shoulder.
Jensen’s heart flutters furiously. Jared is so genuine and pure and somehow all
his. Jensen doesn’t know how he could be so lucky, never even dared to dream he
could be, but here they are.
“Okay, baby. Okay,” Jensen practically purrs as he reaches for Jared’s face and
kisses him, relaxing completely into the permission Jared has given him. “Lay
down for me.”
Jared is all eager puppy as he clumsily lifts himself off Jensen’s lap and
tries, unsuccessfully, to calmly clamber up the bed. Jensen smiles fondly and
stands, keeping his gaze on Jared as he turns over, lying on his back and
looking up at him with those big, bright eyes of his. As he settles, Jensen can
see how Jared trembles a little, the stilted movements as he decides what to do
with his limbs – his knees spread wantonly and unashamed, one hand on his
shaking belly and the other playing absentmindedly on the hotel comforter – but
Jared is still smiling – glowing, really – and Jensen might not be able to
contain himself either except for the lifetime of practice.
He starts to undress, eyes locked with Jared’s. He tugs his tie away and feels
that faint sense of danger again, low in his stomach and making his dick twitch
– the image of Jared tied up with it flashing before his eyes unbidden and
Jensen almost hesitates to toss the scrap of silk away but files the idea for
another day instead. He sheds his shirt and wonders if Jared knows he’s licking
his lips as Jensen bares his skin for him. He makes quick work of his belt and
kicks his shoes off at the same time. He undoes the button and zipper of his
slacks and as he tucks his thumbs inside both his pants and the elastic of his
briefs, he’s not sure he’s ever been so turned on just to be naked. He drops
everything then, sighing as his achingly hard cock bounces free, and he watches
as Jared shifts, his own dick jumping just to finally see all of Jensen, the
wet spot on his underwear getting darker.
He lets Jared look as long as he can bare to stand there, and Jared starts to
reach for him as soon as Jensen finally makes a move for the bed. He stalks up
the bed on his hands and knees, into the open spread of Jared’s legs, and he
can’t help but feel predatory for the motion, and the stark contrast between
their bodies – one a man’s, one just a boy’s on the cusp. Jensen is on fire,
his stomach twisting hotly as he thinks of it, as Jared’s fingers light on his
skin like he can’t believe he’s really allowed to touch, and Jensen knows Jared
is putting him in touch with parts of himself he never knew existed. The way he
wants Jared, the things he can’t help but think of doing to him – fuck.
Jensen leans down and kisses Jared’s open mouth, tracing the inside of his lips
with his tongue, then backing off despite the tiny, protestant whimper Jared
makes when he does.
“Relax, baby. Just let me,” Jensen murmurs, moving to kiss along Jared’s jaw,
nibble at his earlobe, then lick and kiss his way down the curve of Jared’s
neck. Jared squirms a little under Jensen’s mouth as he moves down his chest,
and Jensen revels in the way he gasps when Jensen first seals his lips over one
of Jared’s pointed, pink nipples and sucks. Jensen smiles against Jared’s skin
and flicks the nub with his tongue. Jared’s hands fly to Jensen’s head, his
fingers digging into the short hair at the back of his neck, and Jensen is only
encouraged to keep going now. He drags his teeth over it next, tugging gently,
and he can’t help but tilt his face to look up and see how Jared’s back arches
down into the bed, his head back and pushed into the pillow as he moans. Jared
is so responsive to everything Jensen is doing and Jensen can feel his dick
leaking with anticipation. He places a chaste kiss to the nipple he was doting
on and moves to the other, paying it the same attention with a mix of his lips,
tongue, and teeth.
Jared is panting by the time Jensen sees fit to have a little mercy, both for
Jared’s sake and his own. His boy is flushed down to this belly button, blotchy
red spreading down his neck and chest, so worked up his hips move restlessly
under Jensen all the while. He’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat that glistens
in the low light and catches pieces of his hair, keeping them stuck in places
on his forehead and cheeks. His lips are dark and swollen from how he’s been
biting them, and Jensen has never seen anything so beautiful.
He sits back on his heels between Jared’s legs and caresses Jared’s sides
gently with warm, soft palms. Jared clearly wrestles with his breathing, trying
to calm himself but too far gone. He watches Jensen through heavy lidded eyes,
completely debauched, open and wanting in a way Jensen wants to be worthy of.
He slides his hands down Jared’s sides and gets his fingers in the band of
Jared’s underwear, then pauses.
“Tell me to do it, Jared,” Jensen says, his voice gravely and wrecked but still
clear and commanding. Jared is nodding before he can find his own words.
“Yes, please. Please, Jensen. Do it,” Jared breathes out in a rush, the way he
begs him music to Jensen’s ears.
Jensen smiles and can feel how dark it is as he tugs Jared’s underwear down and
off, shuffling back on the bed so Jared can get each leg out. Jared settles
back down on the bed and Jensen looks at him sympathetically. His long, teenage
boy dick is an angry purple-red, shiny wet at the tip and drooling onto his
stomach. There’s no way Jared is going to last long at this point, Jensen is
sure, but then, Jensen figures it might help this go easier. He leans down and
kisses at the sharp edges of Jared’s hip bones and this close, Jared’s private,
musky scent makes up most of his breath and he groans for it, his mouth
watering. He laps at the precome shining on Jared’s belly, and Jared shudders
when he next takes the head of Jared’s dick into his mouth.
“J-Jensen,” Jared cries out, keening. Jensen hums happily around his mouthful,
the way the shape feels stretching his lips, the weight on his tongue and the
salty burst that makes him want to just drink Jared down entirely. It’s more
perfect than Jensen could have ever imagined, but Jensen is quickly going out
of his mind. He wants inside Jared and Jared still needs prep. He makes himself
let go of Jared’s dick, pulling off with a wet pop and the echo of an anguished
sigh from Jared.
“Flip over, Jared,” Jensen barely gets out, his voice husky and rough like he’s
never heard it. “Trust me, sweetheart. Hands and knees.”

Jensen is pretty sure Jared meant to say okay but his lips move soundlessly
apart from his ragged breathing and he scrambles to do as Jensen asked, as
responsive to Jensen’s requests as his body is to Jensen’s touch. Jensen is
sure, more with every passing moment, Jared really is going to be his ruin.
Jared gets on his hands and knees as instructed and then instinctively dips
down, his shoulders low and his back bowed. Jensen clamps a hand around the
base of his own throbbing cock, because Jesus Christ – the motion puts Jared’s
hips back and ass up, his cheeks parting a little, presenting, and Jensen
groans like a dying a man at the sight.
“Jensen?” Jared asks quietly, breathless, and tries to look back past his
shoulder.
“Yeah, baby,” Jensen answers quickly, reaching a hand out to palm Jared’s ass
in a way he meant as reassuring but turns possessive and a little rough. “You
look– fuck. You’re killing me. Just– stay like that, Jared. Tell me–” his
throat is tight and dry as he makes himself say it “–tell me if you want me to
stop.”
Jensen doesn’t waste another moment – he can’t. He’s nearly coming apart at the
seams, dizzy with want for everything Jared gives him so readily, and he’s got
both hands on the smooth globes of Jared’s ass, pressing them open to show him
Jared’s tight, pink, twitching hole. He’s fairly certain Jared started to say
something but the sound is quickly lost when Jensen leans forward to lick up
Jared’s crease, over the winking muscle. The smell and taste of Jared is so
much more here, even more heady and dangerous than when Jensen had him in his
mouth, and Jensen is suddenly ravenous. His whole life has been so contained,
so controlled, so far away from this, from this want he didn’t know he could
feel. He goes at Jared’s asshole ruthlessly, licking, nipping and sucking. It’s
loud, wet, and sloppy – Jensen can feel his own spit trickle under his chin –
and Jared is pushing back against his face and moaning like he can’t get enough
either. Jensen finally wiggles his tongue inside, the ring of muscle giving way
enough for the tip, and Jared gasps above him, his knees buckling. He recovers
right away, groaning and pushing into Jensen again, mumbling incoherently
broken iterations of Jensen’s name peppered with curses. Jensen would chuckle
if he could. Instead, he keeps pressing in, plunging deep as Jared’s body will
allow him to. Even when his tongue is in as far as it can be, Jensen is
unsatisfied. It’s not enough. He wants to turn Jared inside out. He withdraws
his tongue just long enough to make Jared whine frantically at the loss while
he sucks one of his fingers into his mouth to soak it. In the next moment he’s
got his tongue back in and his finger slipping in alongside it. Jared’s hole is
so wet with Jensen’s spit and soft from the tongue fucking he gets his finger
in all the way to the third knuckle in one smooth motion. Jensen groans for the
feel of it – the hot, clutching pull of Jared’s body. Jared keens and when
Jensen crooks his finger, stroking Jared’s prostate, he cries out and comes
untouched, making a mess underneath him as his body squeezes around Jensen’s
tongue and finger like a vice. Jensen leans back to watch, keeping his finger
pressed where it was inside Jared’s body, feeling him shudder and pulse. Jensen
holds off his own orgasm with a tight hold at the base of his dick, watching
the final drips from Jared’s drop down onto the comforter below him. Jared
sighs and sways a little, looking completely wrecked and boneless, sweat pooled
in the dimples of his back, behind his knees, and pasting his hair to his neck.
Finally, Jensen withdraws his finger, petting gently at Jared’s softened hole
before moving back a little. He leans forward to grab an extra pillow, turning
to quickly kiss Jared’s salty cheek as he does.

“I’m going to make this easy for you. Okay, sweetheart? Just relax,” Jensen
whispers and then he sits back, tucking the pillow under Jared’s hips, covering
the mess he made, and he tugs Jared’s legs back so he’s lying down, ass still
up for the pillow under him. Jared moves for him like a puppet whose strings
have been cut, completely loose, and he hums happily as Jensen poses him.
“Okay, Jensen,” he sighs, content, and Jensen smiles as he finishes putting him
into position.
Jensen goes for the drawer in the nightstand next, for the lube and condoms he
stashed there. Jared turns his head to watch at the sound of the crinkling
package, and Jensen’s hand slows on his dick where he’s slicking it up.
“Is this– you still have to tell me, Jared,” Jensen says with all the strength
he can muster despite his painfully hard cock.
“Jensen, please,” Jared begs again, tilting his hips up in invitation. Jensen
sighs in relief and goes back to Jared’s hole with two lubed up fingers. They
go in easy, like slicing into warm butter, and Jared is shifting restlessly and
making more small, desperate sounds by the time Jensen gets a third in, just to
be sure.
“Jared, I–” Jensen chokes a little, not able to wait another minute. “I gotta–
I need– need to be in you. Relax for me, baby.”
He presses the head of his cock against Jared’s hole and it pops in with little
resistance. Jared sucks in a breath and Jensen stills, making himself sink in
slowly with restraint he didn’t know he had. Jared makes an almost pained sound
but pushes back against Jensen to take him deeper and Jensen can’t hold back
anymore, bottoming out as he drapes himself over Jared’s body.
“Oh, fuck,” Jensen bites out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jared–” Jensen is done.
Whatever coherence he had left is gone. He open mouth kisses at Jared’s
shoulder, sloppy, breathing hot against his skin, and then props himself up for
better leverage. He starts up a slow rhythm, pulling back and pushing in. Jared
is so tight and so much better than he thought sex could ever be. He’s been
riding the edge for so long, so close to the edge just getting Jared there,
that he knows this is going to be over unfortunately quickly. He starts to
punch in faster and harder despite himself, at the mercy of how much he needs
this, and Jared makes these broken, needy noises every time Jensen can’t get in
any deeper.
“M– more, Jensen. P– please,” Jared pleads, stuttering in time with Jensen’s
thrusts, and Jensen is going to break right out of his skin. He distantly
realizes that Jared is rubbing down into the pillow as Jensen fucks him, must
be hard again – fucking seventeen – and Jensen is right there, on the edge.
“C’mon, baby, that’s it. Come again for me, Jared, fuck–” he growls it low and
forceful against the shell of Jared’s ear as he slams into him, and then he
ducks his head down and bites into the meat of Jared’s shoulder. Jared cries
out and bears down on Jensen as he comes, taking Jensen with him. Jensen gasps,
his teeth letting go and leaving marks in Jared’s otherwise flawless skin, and
he groans Jared’s name long and low as he fills the condom, coming harder than
he ever has before. He collapses onto Jared’s back before he’s done, all his
strength completely gone, and he vaguely registers the grunt Jared makes as
Jensen no doubt crushes him.
Jared doesn’t say anything though, just stays burning hot and soft beneath him,
and Jensen can feel when Jared’s heartbeat has stopped thundering quite so
hard, same as his, with his chest pressed to Jared’s back. Sighing, he finally
reaches down to pinch the base of the condom and pulls out, their skin hissing
as it unsticks. Jared makes a sound like a small sob and worry floods Jensen’s
system. Oh god, he went too hard. It was too much. He’s hurt him, just like he
said he wouldn’t and–
“Jared?” Jensen prompts quickly, trying to halt the dizzy spiral of this
thoughts, and presses his free hand gently to Jared’s side.
Jared mumbles something too quiet to hear and Jensen’s fears are not allayed.
“Jared, baby, are you okay? Did I– did I hurt you?” Jensen pushes again,
desperate. His eyes find the teeth marks on Jared’s shoulder and a flash of
shame goes through him – how could he do that?
“No, no. I’m– I’m okay– I’m great, Jensen. You– it was amazing. I just… wish
you could stay inside me all the time…”

Jared has half rolled over to look at Jensen as he says it, even though he
quickly looks down as if he’s embarrassed to admit it. Jensen feels fierce want
spike through him at Jared’s words and he can’t believe the gift that Jared is.
“Oh, Jared,” Jensen sighs, so undeniably in love with this kidwho came out of
nowhere and turned Jensen’s life completely upside down.
He makes quick work of the condom and tosses it in the nearby wastebasket.
Jared watches him as he pulls back the covers and slides in on the side of the
bed, and when he raises and arm to invite Jared to him, Jared moves as quickly
as his fucked-out body allows to slip inside and curl up against Jensen’s
chest.
“What did I do to deserve you?” Jensen asks quietly, his lips pressed to the
top of Jared’s head, his arms wrapped around his slim body, hugging him close.
Jared makes a muffled half snort half laugh at that and Jensen blinks, tipping
his head down and leaning back to look at the goofy grin on Jared’s face.
“I’ve been asking myself the same thing,” Jared whispers, his smile getting
quiet as he looks up into Jensen’s face with that earnestness that makes
Jensen’s heart feel two times bigger.
Jensen should be more worried about being the caretaker for a heart as pure and
perfect as Jared’s, but instead he’s just excited. He wants to give this boy
the world, and he’s going to. Jensen is so overwhelmed by the rush of it, and
Jared’s eyes have drifted closed, his body soft against Jensen as their
exertions and the late hour weigh on him, that Jensen feels safe enough to say
as much.
“I’m going to give you the world, Jared. Everything I can. Anything you want,
it’s yours,” he whispers, kissing Jared’s forehead, not even sure Jared hears
him, possibly already asleep.
He feels Jared’s lips curve against his skin – clearly not asleep then – and
Jared’s eyes flutter open just enough to meet Jensen’s again. 
“I’m going to marry you someday, Jensen Ackles,” he says quietly, grinning
smugly and proud between them with such a subtle certainty that Jensen can only
bark out a tiny laugh and shake his head. He’s equal parts amazed by Jared’s
brazenness and relieved to know that Jared really does want him – indefinitely.
He gives Jared a little squeeze and leans into press their smiles together, to
answer him between kisses.
“Yeah, baby. Someday, you really will,” he can feel when Jared hums happily
into their kiss, and as they settle and Jared’s breathing evens out as he falls
asleep, Jensen is ready for whatever may come, ready to go to the ends of the
earth to protect this – protect Jared – his second chance at life.
End Notes
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