Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/761296.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      CW_Network_RPF
  Relationship:
      Jensen_Ackles/Jared_Padalecki
  Character:
      Jeffrey_Dean_Morgan
  Additional Tags:
      Voyeurism, bottom!Jensen, Sibling_Incest, Solo!Jeff
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-04-15 Words: 5233
****** Window Dressing ******
by moxay
Summary
     Based on this spnkink-meme prompt: "Jeff loves the view from his
     bedroom. He has a clear view of his neighbors, teen!Jared fucking his
     little brother Jensen.."
From the moment he stepped out of his truck, the gravel of the driveway-- his
driveway-- crunching under his boots, Jeff Morgan was well and thoroughly
damned. When he recalls that first breath he took, that deep inhale of the
summer air, he wonders if there was any way he could have known that something
was wrong, that what he should have done was climb in his pickup, start the
engine, and drive as fast as he could in whatever direction he pleased, but try
as he might, he can remember nothing except this: the air on Rosary Avenue
smelled clean and wholesome in a way that New York’s air, with all its crammed-
together restaurants and hot-dog stands and people packed like sardines and
covered in oil-thick perfumes, never had.
Jeff had breathed in, breathed out, and slammed his door shut (it always had
the nasty tendency of not shutting completely if it wasn’t slammed) before
walking around to the back of the truck, where his meager possessions had been
tucked away into their boxes and nestled safely into the bed of the pickup.
Just as he picked up the first (smallest) box, marked ‘VALUABLES’ and
containing his considerable porn collection, amassed between the ages of
fourteen and thirty, he was interrupted by a voice from the yard adjacent to
his.
“Need a hand?”
Jeff turned his head and caught sight of a man standing with one foot on his
porch, the other planted on his lawn, hand up in a mock-salute to keep the sun
from his eyes.
Jeff lifted the box in his hands to show how light it was. “Thanks, but I think
I manage to carry this massive load by myself.” Immediately after he said it,
he realized how easy it would be to take it as an insult, or as mocking. He
tried to temper the harshness by adding, “Movers already got the furniture,
anyways,” but it sounded weak, even to him. Jeff frowned a little to himself
and started to turn and head into the house, mildly disappointed that he’d
managed to alienate one of his neighbors in so short a time.
“Just saying,” his neighbor said, and again Jeff found himself turning to face
that same lawn, and the man was still standing half on his porch, but this time
his face was lit up by a wide smile. “Hauling boxes in and out is usually a
little more bearable with some company.”
Jeff’s first knee-jerk instinct was to clutch his box a little tighter and
shake his head, keep himself close: take the out, don’t piss off the neighbor,
keep to himself. It was what he’d always done, how he survived in New York City
for ten years. But the breeze picked up, hitting him with a cooling breath of
fresh air, and this time it carried with it the faintest aroma of roses. Jeff
turned to look in the direction the wind was coming from and saw a woman about
his age wearing a sunhat and doing something-- he can’t tell what-- to the soil
surrounding an expansive rose bush, with three children sitting around her and
doing the same.
It reminded him of his home where he grew up, of everything that he hadn’t made
for himself in the city, of everything he came here for. He turned back to his
neighbor and was a little surprised to find that the man still has the same
smile on his face, and it didn’t seem to have dimmed a watt.
“You know what? Yeah,” he said, and he found that the more he talked, the more
he found himself unable to stop the grin from sliding across his face. “Yeah,
I’d really appreciate that.”
“Great! Let me get my boy, see if he can help.”
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to bother him.” Jeff had always been terrible at small
talk; he didn’t know if this qualified, but he felt like this was the most
social he’d been since he was a kid and he didn’t quite take don’t talk to
strangers to heart.
The man laughed, quietly enough that Jeff believed it was genuine. “Wouldn’t be
a bother at all. A little manual labor would do him good.” He turned and
stepped fully onto the porch and pulled the door wide open, despite its screech
of protest. Their main door was open, and now that Jeff’s attention was in that
area, he could hear voices from inside. “Jared!” His neighbor shouted. “Jared,
get your ass out here, we’re helping the neighbor!”
Someone shouted something from inside the house, indistinct from the distance
Jeff was standing at. After only a moment, a boy stepped out onto the porch,
keeping one foot inside the house and holding onto the siding of the doorway
with his hand, and Jeff’s hands tightened on the corners of his cardboard box.
He cast Jeff a glance and smiled in acknowledgment before turning to his
father. They exchanged words and Jeff swallowed thickly, taking in the boxes in
his truck bed while they talked. A second later, the neighbor let out a sigh
loud enough that Jeff heard it, and he turned back to the other house just in
time to catch the neighbor walking into the house and shouting something. His
son-- Jared, he assumed-- looked at Jeff again and smiled, although this time
it looked apologetic.
“Sorry, neighbor,” he called. “Family issues. No can do with the helping.”
“It’s, ah--” Jeff cleared his throat. When had his mouth gotten so dry? “It’s
fine, I’ll-- I’ll be in my house, I guess.”
Jared nodded and ducked back into his house. Jeff sagged against the truck bed,
his knees suddenly shaking. He’d only seen Jared for a moment. Just a second,
just a glimpse of that shaggy hair, of those long, long legs clad in black
basketball shorts in the summer heat. It was only a second, but it was long
enough to have half a fantasy constructed in Jeff’s head and get him half-hard
in his jeans. He took a moment to breathe and try to collect himself, willing
his erection to go away, but he found himself incapable of going too long
without imagining pulling threading his fingers through the boy’s hair and
tugging that lean body against his.
As a fresh wave of lust hit him, Jeff groaned and allowed himself a second to
lean further into the truck before he pushed himself off and made his way into
the house. It hardly took him half an hour to get all of the boxes into the
living room, since he’d had the smallest apartment he could find in the city,
and never was one to spend money on his possessions, since he’d been saving up
to buy a house one day. No sooner had the last box hit the ground than Jeff was
in his new bedroom, collapsing back onto the comforter, flicking open the
button on his jeans, and shoving his hands into his boxers, tugging his cock
hard and fast, just this side of painful, as though the twinge of pain would be
enough to make up for the fact that he’d hardly settled into this new home and
was already fucking his fist while he imagined pinning the neighbor’s kid
against the side of his house and fucking him until he came untouched against
the freshly-painted siding.
It couldn’t have been longer than five minutes later that Jeff was coming down
from his orgasm, shirt rucked up, hands on the bed on either side of him,
stomach splattered with come.
As shame flooded him when he thought about what he’d just done, Jeff pushed
himself up and busied himself unpacking his boxes, and by the time he’d done
that, it was dark enough outside that he could justify himself in letting his
remorse pull him into a fitful slumber.
-
Fate had never been particularly kind to Jeff Morgan, so perhaps she felt
herself overdue in the month after moving onto Rosary Avenue, as Jeff was
fortunate (and, very slightly, disappointed) to find that his night shift
combined with the entire household next door being on a structured nine to five
schedule meant that he saw little to none of Gerry Padalecki--as he’d
introduced himself the morning after their first run-in-- and none at all of
Jared or the other kid that Gerry swore was running around somewhere.
It wasn’t until the neighborhood barbecue at the end of the summer that Jeff
was even convinced they had another child at all.
Jeff had been dreading the party for some time, but not with the same edge and
anxiety that he’d always associated with large social gatherings; he’d taken
this lack of extra anxiety as a sign, and forced himself to go to it. In the
moment, in the warm summer air but with the night breeze cooling the light
sheen of sweat on his neck and his forehead, he had to admit that he was
enjoying himself more than he’d anticipated. He had to admit to himself that
the only reason he’d really had to look forward to the party was on the off-
chance of seeing Jared up close, but the boy seemed to have vanished into the
mob of party-goers gathered around the picnic tables, for which Jeff was both
immeasurably upset and thankful.
Jeff found his place standing opposite Gerry and his wife Sherri, and as the
conversation came to a brief pause, Jeff’s eyes wandered behind the pair until
they landed on Jared, sitting at a picnic table across from another boy not ten
feet away from them. Jeff glanced at the couple, trying to see if they were
paying attention to him, but their neighbor across the street had come over,
and all three were wrapped up in their conversation. Jeff swirled the cream
soda in his hand thoughtfully, bringing it to his lips before he allowed
himself to really study Jared for the first time.
If Jeff had managed to convince himself even slightly in the past month that he
had exaggerated Jared’s good looks in his mind, all of those thoughts were
blown away as he took in the boy’s slanted eyes, small mole just by his nose,
and wide, pink mouth, those lips looking especially tempting as they curled
into a smirk, then shaped out the words as he whispered something. Jeff rolled
his lips into his mouth to keep himself from licking them too obviously and
glanced at the person sitting across from Jared. The boy was young, not so
young that he hadn’t started growing out of his baby fat, but not old enough to
look like he’d gone past first base, if that. Jeff’s eyes skated over him
disinterestedly, and strangely a part of him puffed up at that, because
apparently his depravity had its limits.
And of course, as he was reminded when his eyes were attracted like magnets to
Jared’s charge, Jared was camped neatly at the edge of those limits. Until just
then, Jeff had been doing his best to occasionally flick his eyes to the men
and women standing immediately around him and to try to keep his eyes looking
as glazed as possible without being completely incapable of seeing Jared, but
when Jared licked his lips, Jeff’s eyes latched onto Jared’s mouth just in time
to catch what could only be a stifled moan escaping from Jared’s tongue. Jeff’s
eyes widened in a little bit of a panic when he saw Jared swipe his tongue
lightly over his lower lip, just enough to wet it, just enough to catch the
reflections of the outdoor lamps swinging overhead. Jared hesitated, and then
dug his teeth into that plump lip, gently pulling in a scrape that left the
already tempting skin the most sinful shade of red that Jeff had ever seen.
Jeff quickly brought his drink up, swallowing the beer and with it washing away
the moan that had pressed suddenly against his vocal chords. Jared paused, then
scraped his teeth along his lower lip, releasing it quickly before his mouth
burst into motion again. Jeff couldn’t help but squint his eyes, trying to make
out what the boy was saying; all throughout the whispers, Jared’s lips made the
same mesmerizing bite-drag-release four times before Jeff recognized the word
repeated so often in Jared’s speech, and his blood ran hot.
Fuck.
As if on cue, Jared swallowed, and Jeff steeled himself this time, wanting to
drink down every word he could make out. His eyes flickered down as his adam’s
apple bobbed lightly, and Jared’s teeth came together in the middle of the
word. That one was easy enough-- gonna. Jared hesitated for a moment-- Jeff
could almost see his cheeks darkening in that tempting blush-- before he
repeated the word, then again that bite-drag-release, then moved his mouth to
form the prettiest little ‘o’.
Jeff frowned, swirling his cup thoughtfully for a moment as he thought,
replaying the snippet in his head in an attempt to decipher the sentence. He
brought his drink up, but froze as soon as the plastic touched his bottom lip,
as the realization slammed into him.
Gonna fuck you.
Jared gasped, and as if to confirm for Jeff that Yes, Your Hot-Ass Underage
Neighbor is Talking Dirty to Somebody at a Very Public Barbeque, Jared repeated
it, with a little twist.
I’m gonna fuck you.
Jeff’s mind immediately filled with images of Jared fucking the other boy-- or
at least, it tried to, but Jeff hadn’t paid enough attention to him to get the
full mental picture. He tried to look at the boy, to study him, but he and
Jared were sitting in such a way that it prevented Jeff from seeing much of
him; the younger boy was seated on the bench seat properly, if a little
rigidly, and Jared had moved so that his shins were pressed against his bench,
and his upper body was braced on his forearms so that he could lean in close to
whisper in the other boy’s ear. Jared’s face was the closer of the two, and
while it made it all that much easier to stare at Jared’s face and watch as
those pretty lips shaped out those very, very pretty words, it also meant that
Jeff couldn’t see more of his friend than his ear, the back of his head, and
the ever so slight plumpness of his arms where they sat stock-still by his
side.
Jeff was so wrapped up in his study of the two that when Gerry suddenly shouted
“Boys!” from beside him, Jeff jumped even more than the two at the picnic
table, his drink sloshing over the rim and onto his hand. Jared and his friend
quickly scrambled away from their spot and rushed over, faces flushed bright
red.
“Jeff,” Gerry said, “I believe you already know Jared.” He nodded at his son,
who swallowed and raised his hand a little, his stance immediately shifting to
one that could be read as arrogant if Jeff hadn’t just seen him dirty-talking
his little boyfriend and if it wasn’t the worst charade Jeff had ever seen.
“And this is Jensen.” Gerry gestured to the other boy, and Jeff swallowed
thickly when he saw him for the first time in detail. Jeff felt his face heat
up as he took in the bright green eyes peering up at him through long, long
lashes, freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose, and plump, full lips
licked spit-shiny, and Jeff could just imagine how he’d licked them nervously
on that bench just now, with Jared breathing filthy promises in his ear,
against the skin of his neck. Jared made a barely-there noise and stepped
forward, placing himself in between Jeff and Jensen, breaking Jeff from his
reverie. Jeff pursed his lips, a vague sense of disappointment sliding through
him as he realized that Jensen had just tiptoed across the line he’d drawn for
his depravities, and was joining Jared’s camp at the edge. Jeff cleared his
throat quietly and tried to school his features into something that wasn’t
quite as creepy. He opened his mouth to apologize, make some joke out of it;
the small laugh and joking Don’t worry, he’s way out of my league were loaded
and ready on his tongue when Gerry stopped him short.
“Jensen is Jared’s younger brother. Going to be fourteen years old in a month,
can you believe it?” On Gerry’s left, Sherri sighed wistfully, and Jensen’s
blush, which had slowly faded from his cheeks, reignited under the new
scrutiny. Jeff closed his mouth and opened it again, feeling like an idiot
while he did so but finding himself unable to get any words out. A small noise
caught his attention, and when he looked up to follow it, he found Jared
staring at him, his face contorted in what looked like barely stifled horror,
his eyes wide and his eyebrows slanted just enough to give Jeff a little
insight into Jared’s thoughts. After a moment, Jeff felt a silence pressing in
and realized that he should have said something by now.
He turned to the Padaleckis and gave them the most confident smile he could
muster, albeit a weak one. “I know how you feel, Sherri-- got a niece, myself,
turned eight last year. Could have sworn I was in the hospital with her mom
less than a month ago.” Jeff thought he heard Jared sigh, but he didn’t chance
a glance to check, and kept his eyes firmly on the heads of the Padalecki
household for the rest of his evening.
If, after everyone had gone home and Jeff was in the darkness and solitude of
his room, he did not keep his thoughts restrained similarly, that was nobody’s
business but his own. By that time, Jeff was too tired to analyze what he’d
seen earlier that night, or feel any shame for what was in his own head when he
was by himself, and he fell asleep easier than he had in some time.
-
Jeff managed to rationalize away what he’d seen the next morning; he replayed
the vision of Jared’s lips shaping out his whispers over and over again, and
although he couldn’t figure what it was that he did say (I’m gonna vacuum? I’m
gone a fat queue?), it was obvious that Jeff had been mistaken. He was sure of
it.
As if to emphasize how much of a perverted old man he was, he saw Jensen almost
every day after the barbecue for a few seconds, at least: running into each
other if Jensen was sent out to get the mail, or take the garbage out, and when
Jared and Jensen were in their backyard pool at the same time that Jeff was out
on his back porch. Jeff’s lips pulled into a tight line when the two of their
upper bodies popped up above the fence separating their two yards the following
Wednesday. Both boys’ hair was dripping wet, Jensen’s flat against his head and
spiked towards the edges, Jared’s curling up under his ears and at the nape of
his neck, each lock cradling a thick drop of water that wavered on the brink of
falling. Their skin glistened-- practically sparkled-- in the sun, Jared’s
tanner forearm slung carelessly across Jensen’s freckled shoulders, and
although Jeff had to bite the inside of his cheeks lightly to stifle a whimper
at the thought of their wet bodies slip-sliding against one another, he
couldn’t see anything about their posture that was anything but brotherly.
“Come on, Mr. Morgan!”
Jensen nudged Jared, who in turn leaned further over the fence and shook his
head back and forth, spraying water everywhere. Jeff wasn’t sitting close
enough for the water to actually hit him, but he was close enough for a few
stray drops so land harshly on the pages of his book. Jeff shook himself out of
his stupor as he watched the water spread, turning the paper an ashy brown
beneath the black letters. He stood up, ignoring the sting of the hot cement on
his bare feet in favor of addressing the boys still leaning over the fence
expectantly. He considered it for a moment. He couldn’t deny that the thought
of slipping into the clean pool with the two boys was more than a little
tempting, but that was exactly the problem: he couldn’t afford the temptation,
and especially not when he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to resist it. He’d
gotten comfortable here almost without even realizing it, and the idea of
having to pack up and move, leaving behind the neighbors and his job, was less
than appealing. He shook his head, and Jensen pouted before Jeff could even
open his mouth, letting out a long Aww.
“Sorry, boys. I think I’m just going to head in for now. Get me some beauty
sleep.” With that, he turned to go inside, ignoring Jared’s and Jensen’s shouts
of It’s only two o’clock and Don’t be a party pooper, respectively, in favor of
getting into the air-conditioned living room. Jeff tripped up the stairs, only
realizing just how tired he genuinely was when it took a concerted effort to
get up the fourteen steps, and dragged himself to his bed. He collapsed face-
first onto his bed, pulling the pillow close and tucking it under his head, and
gave himself a moment to rub his heated cheeks on the cool pillow before
turning and resting his head on its side. From this position, he was looking
out of the window that faced the Padalecki house, and he could see that
whoever’s room was directly beside his had left their window and curtains open,
and the slight breeze outside was tugging the draped material until part of it
was almost hanging off the side of the house. Jeff blinked sluggishly, trying
to remember whose bedroom it was, but the name escaped him, and he slipped into
an exhausted sleep, after silently reminding himself to go to his neighbors’
house later and tell them about the open window.
-
Jeff woke suddenly, his eyes snapping open, the memory of his dream still
lingering in his head. He glanced around, more than a little upset at being
pulled from his dream, looking for whatever had woken him up (as a quick glance
as the clock confirmed that it had been less than half an hour since he
collapsed). Finding nothing in his room of note, and no noises except for the
click-whirr-click of his ceiling fan, Jeff relaxed further into the comforter.
The memory of his dream flicked across his mind again, albeit a bit fuzzier
this time-- Jared, he thought, tied up on Jeff’s bed, while Jeff sucked his way
up his long, long legs. Jeffs groaned quietly into his pillow and let his eyes
flutter shut. He wormed his hand between his body and the mattress, snaking it
down until he can press the heel of his palm between his legs in an effort to
relieve some of the tension there. Jeff bit his lip as he remembered more of
the dream, pushing Jared’s legs as far apart as they would go and leaning down,
licking at the tip of Jared’s cock until the boy was reduced to wordless pleas
beneath him. He gave himself another squeeze through his jeans before he turned
himself over and flicked open the button on his pants and shoved his hand under
his boxers, leaving the other beside his head to clench at the pillow when the
first touch to his bare skin sent a ripple of pleasure up his spine and loosed
a low groan. Jeff grazed his bottom lip with his teeth and shoved his jeans and
boxers down, then kicked them off and onto the floor. He ran his fingers up and
down the length of his cock, barely-there touches that weren’t anything
substantial, nothing to get him screaming into his fist; he circled his thumb
around the head, but the lightest edge of pain from the dry pad of his thumb
touching the over-sensitive skin was enough warning to keep him from going
further without anything to ease the way. Jeff opened his eyes and reached for
his bedside dresser, digging out his lube, the plastic tube pressed mostly flat
from use. The wind outside slammed against his window, rattling the glass, and
as Jeff squeezed the last of it into his palm and loosely wrapped his hand
around his cock, he glanced at the window, and froze.
In the room across from his, in the Padalecki’s house, Jared sat on a chair,
naked as the day he was born, head thrown back in ecstasy as Jensen swallowed
down his cock.
Jeff’s breath left him too quickly not to be painful, his entire body
overheating as he took in the scene, not entirely sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
The boys were sitting with their sides facing him, and their bedroom window was
practically floor-to-ceiling, giving Jeff as clear a view as he could imagine.
Jensen was on his knees, eyes closed, plump lips stretched around the thick
length of Jared’s cock as he bobbed his head up and down-- no, as Jared pulled
him up and down, Jeff realized when he saw Jared’s hands splayed possessively
around Jensen’s head, fingers threaded through the tousled hair.
Jeff’s hand moved almost without his thinking to grip his cock (which had gone
from half-interested to entirely invested in the situation) tighter and tug
once, all the way up, while Jensen’s head moved up and down on his, fuck, on
his big brother’s cock. Jared was saying something, lips moving faster than
Jeff could keep up with, and Jeff rocked his hips, remembering how good Jared’s
mouth had looked shaping out that filthy phrase at the barbeque, imagining all
the things Jared would be saying now while he fucked his little brother’s
mouth-- God, baby, doin’ so good, fuck, come on, look so pretty on your knees
for me, Jen, gonna come, fuck, gonna make big brother come with your hot little
mouth, Jen, fuck-- and Jeff moaned again into his bedroom when Jared’s hands
tightened in Jensen’s hair, pulling him off, but Jensen fought visibly, open
mouth straining to get back on his brother’s cock, pre-come and spit running
out of the corners of his mouth and down his chin.
Jared tugged him up, harder this time, pulling Jensen onto his lap and slamming
their lips together in a sloppy kiss. Jeff unclenched his hand from the pillow
and dragged it down from his shoulder to his cock, digging his nails into the
heated skin just enough to sting. His eyes darted back and forth between the
space between the boys’ hips, where their cocks were sliding together and
Jensen was rocking himself against Jared’s thighs, and where their mouths were
sliding against one another, completely uncoordinated as their lower bodies
moved, resulting in the two boys’ open lips sliding messily around one another,
tongues licking the red skin, pressing, trying to get into the other’s mouth
without any success. Jeff ran his nails up the valley between his upper thigh
and where his other hand was pumping his cock, and the shiver it shot through
him had him arching his back off the bed. He squeezed his eyes shut as every
fantasy he hadn’t realized he was harboring about the boys flashed in his mind
in technicolor: coming over to watch them when their parents couldn’t, making
Jensen ride him at the dinner table while Jared stood behind Jensen and let
Jeff use his mouth, lick every inch of it; fucking Jared from behind while
Jared did the same to Jensen; joining them for a day by the pool and laying
back, letting Jared suck him while Jensen sat on his face and let Jeff lick his
tight little hole until he came all over the stone surrounding the still water.
A muffled shout from the other house caught Jeff’s attention again and he
turned his head, not believing that he’d let himself be so distracted that he’d
missed anything that was happening in the Padaleckis’ bedroom.
At first, he didn’t see what could have caused one of the boys to make such a
loud sound; they were still in the same position, Jensen straddling Jared’s
lap, legs splayed, Jared’s hands--oh.
Jeff squeezed his cock to stave of the wave of pleasure that rolled through
him. Jared had two-- no, three-- fingers shoved into Jensen’s hole, and Jensen
had apparently gotten over the shock that caused him to shout, because he was
riding them for all he’s worth, his fingers digging into Jared’s shoulders, his
mouth moving in such an obvious catch-drag-release that it was a wonder Jeff
hadn’t memorized the motion.
Fuck, fuck, fuck--
And Jeff could just imagine all the words between the curses, all the little
things that he couldn’t make out from this distance.
Fuck me, Jared, come on, want your cock, big brother, want you to fuck me, want
you to come in my ass--
Jeff jerked himself faster, tighter, leaking pre-come all over his fingers, the
only sounds in the room the slick sound of him fucking his fist and the bed
springs squealing their protest as he rocked his hips up into his hands. Jeff
bit his lip and raked his nails across his lower belly, sending his legs into a
spasm and a shiver rocketing up his spine, and he was so close, so close, come
on Jensen, wanna fuck you, and he turned his head to the side just in time to
catch Jensen lifting himself up and slamming himself down on Jared’s cock.
If Jeff made a sound when he came, he’s positive it was drowned out by the
downright beautiful noise that was wrenched from Jensen’s lips at the same
time, audible clearly even through Jeff’s closed windows.
Jeff tugged himself through the aftershocks, letting his head roll back until
he was staring up at the ceiling fan (for which he was ever grateful, since he
felt like he was about to sweat out of his skin). As the last of the waves of
pleasure faded from him, Jeff took in a much-needed deep breath and glanced
over at the neighboring house. Jensen was still riding Jared, his head thrown
back, mouth wide open, and Jeff’s dick made a noble effort at getting hard
again at the site of Jared biting down on Jensen’s shoulder. Jeff took a moment
to realize that he’d come faster than the thirteen-year-old neighbor and feel
shamed, before shaking it off and getting out of his bed, confident that the
neighbors were too engrossed in their activities to notice him.
As Jeff stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the come
splattered across his stomach and his thighs, he remembered the invitation
lying on his dining room table for Jensen’s birthday party next week; not
wanting to put himself in the same room as the Padalecki boys for the sole
purpose of not frustrating himself further, he’d told Sherri that his great
aunt Lydia was in the hospital for some non-fatal accident or another.
He imagined she would be making quite the miraculous recovery.
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