![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
raeschaeTitle: M(f).A.D.D. (Or Motherfuckers Against Drunk Driving) (A Disclaimer OneShot)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
raeschae
Pairing: J2
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3800ish
Summary: Jared and Jensen have always treated Brayden like any other member of their crew. When he forces them to act like actual parents? They're none too thrilled.
A Disclaimer Verse OneShot.
A/N: I've been waiting for awhile to do drunk!Brayden - I think, if you've read the other stories, you'll understand why it's more powerful now than it would have been a few stories back. I hope so, anyway.
“Bray say what time he's coming home?”
Jared looks up from the magazine he's been flipping through on the bed for the last twenty minutes and shakes his head. He was about thirty seconds away from going down and dragging Jensen out of his office, and he's kind of glad that he doesn't have to now. “Nah. Probably late, though.”
There was a time when he and Jensen would jump on each other as soon as Brayden left the house for the night, spend however many hours he was gone in bed, and then shower and be waiting for him when he got home. But Brayden's seventeen now, and while they still take advantage of their alone time, he's gone pretty much all the time. It's not so much a special event anymore.
Jensen climbs onto the bed and situates himself behind Jared, lips working at the back of his ear and hands roaming his chest and stomach for a minute before he groans and leans away. “Bought you somethin',” he announces, leaning toward the nightstand..
Shifting without really breaking contact, Jared watches Jensen pull a long, black box from the table on his side of the bed. “What's that?” Jared asks, taking it when Jensen offers and looking at it critically.
The box boasts that it's from California Exotics and also claims that the object Jared is pulling out is the Black Jack Stroker. He's pretty sure he's never seen one with so many accessories. It's a tube within a tube with a pump and a remote control. Nothing good can come of this many wires in close proximity to their dicks.
“Seriously? What? I'm not giving you enough suction?”
Jensen stretches back on the bed, kicks his legs out and crosses them at his ankles, arms behind his head. His Element tee shirt pulls tight across his chest and his biceps flex. He's pretty fucking hot all laid out like that. “Been awhile since we played,” he says, but he can't really hide the laughter when he lets his eyes drift back to Jared's hand.
He examines the tube and then holds it out for Jensen's inspection. “Dude, it's got lips,” he intones. The end of the long plastic tube has lips molded into it, like you might be fooled into thinking an actual person is sucking your dick. While you're working the pump or the remote your damn self. This is the most ridiculous thing Jared's ever seen.
The guffaw that bursts out of Jensen's chest is loud, like he was trying to hold it in but he just can't anymore. “What was I thinking?”
Jared's almost one hundred percent sure he doesn't want to know. The longer he looks at it, the harder Jensen laughs, the funnier it becomes. “You are no longer allowed to shop alone online. Is that clear?”
Rolling his eyes, Jensen takes the pump and holds it next to his face. “Come on. They kinda look like my lips, right?” There are tears glimmering in the corners of his eyes, causing his already-smudged eyeliner to run a little bit, and he's puckering to match the open lips on the toy.
“Dude, you look like Emo Nemo,” Jared yanks the pump back and throws it over the side of the bed, unable to fight a laugh of his own. “And no,” he adds, leaning forward to press his mouth to Jensen's for a second. “There's nothing like your fucking lips, Jen.”
It's not particularly cheesy or even corny, but the line causes them both to lose it all over again, even as they each pull their tee shirts over their heads and toss them somewhere away. There's nothing he loves more than sex with Jensen, and sex that they both laugh through is the best kind of all. He won't say that, of course, but it doesn't make it any less true. Jared never forgets just how hot Jensen is, or how lucky he is to have the guy. Sometimes, though, he does forget just how fucking fun he can be. Life has changed a lot for them in the last few years.
Jensen is just standing to pull his tight jeans over his hips when the front door bangs open downstairs and they hear an exaggerated stage whisper saying, “Shhh. You'll wake Jensen up!”
“Fuckin' hell, man,” Jensen groans, dropping his head low between his shoulders. “Seriously? Another one?”
Brayden was crushed when his first big love, Demi, broke up with him about six months ago. But he recovered in fine Brayden fashion by hooking up with some chick from school about three weeks later. After that, he just kind of slid into a rhythm of bringing a new girl home every couple of weeks, lately days, and if his grades were slipping, or he was acting any weirder than usual, they might actually worry about it.
His boots are heavy on the stairs and Jared wonders why Brayden didn't just take this one out to the pool house, too. He never brings them into the main house. The prospect of his dads meeting one of his potential conquests is far too mortifying for him or something. But he's sure as hell tromping up the stairs and bumping into the wall a lot tonight.
In order to get to his room, Brayden will have to pass theirs, and if he's going to ruin the good thing he and Jensen were about to have going, Jared's going to do his best to cock block the little fucker right back.
Brayden reaches the top of the stairs and staggers, alone. It's pretty obvious what's going on now, and Jared can't help smirking just a little bit. At seventeen, Brayden's certainly a late-bloomer when it comes to the whole 'partying and coming home drunk' thing. At least, he is by Jared's standards. “Hey, Bray,” he greets.
“Shhh,” Brayden holds his hands up and looks around, swaying again and stumbling into the wall. “Fuck,” he growls. “Shut up, Jay,” he scolds, hands on Jared's chest when he wanders back over. “You're gonna wake Jen up.”
If he wasn't one hundred percent sure that the kid was drunk before, he sure as hell is now. “Jesus Christ, kid,” he pulls back, “You drink the whole damn keg?” He's pretty sure that the scent of alcohol is coming out of Brayden's pores at this point.
“Nah, man,” Brayden holds up his fingers, “Just these little blue shots. They were awesome. And blue.”
With a roll of his eyes, Jared nods down the hall. “Go sleep it off, ya fuckin' lush,” he suggests rather firmly. He never really considers himself much of a father, never really had much of an example of what one was supposed to be anyway. But there's no sense in talking to Brayden about the stupidity of becoming a teenage alcoholic while he's still about forty-three sheets to the wind.
Rolling his shoulder, he enters the room and pulls Jensen onto the bed. “Our kid is fucking drunk off his ass,” he mutters, lips more interested in sucking an enormous, totally conspicuous hickey into Jensen's throat.
“Oh good,” Jensen responds dryly, hands fumbling to open Jared's pants. “So he'll be too passed out to hear you beg me to fuck you?”
It's almost eleven, Sunday morning, when Jensen rolls himself out of the bed. He and Jared collapsed against one another around three, and then Jared bolted upright about a half hour later. He barely heard his boyfriend's loud footsteps thundering down to the kitchen before he fell back to sleep, but he's pretty sure that Jared never came back upstairs.
He showers and ventures down in a still-sleepy fog. Brayden's nowhere to be found, but that's not unusual on a regular Sunday morning. Hungover, it could be sunset before they see the kid.
Jared is standing at the kitchen counter, drinking coffee from a mug that's roughly the size of his enormous head and staring out the window, his shoulders tense and his jaw squared. Jared has a bit of a temper, but he doesn't get pissed very often.
“What's wrong?” Jensen asks, hand resting on the small of his boyfriend's back while he reaches around for his own mug and coffee.
Jared nods out the window and Jensen follows his eye line. Fuckin' hell.
Brayden's bike is laying on it's side, back tire on the driveway, front in the yard. Paint job's probably fucked all to hell. “Keys were still in it when I went out there this morning,” Jared grits through clenched teeth.
Which means that the dumb ass moronic idiot drove his motherfucking motorcycle home at two in the morning, drunk off his ass. “What are we gonna do about it?”
Brayden's a good kid. They really kind of lucked out when they decided to “parent” him because he does most of the work himself. He doesn't get in trouble at school, doesn't run with a bad crowd, and doesn't seem interested in most of the things that can fuck a kid up at his age. Sure, he's mouthy as hell, but he kind of learned that from the guys, and he knows when to turn it off and be reasonably polite out in the real world. They pretty much treat him like all of their other friends, because most of the time, he acts like all of their other friends.
Now, they have to be parental, and Jensen thinks it sucks. Because he doesn't want to be the guy who grounds his kid for doing something he did when he was Brayden's age. He doesn't want to be the guy who acts like a hard ass, who punishes his kid for something that he kind of thinks is a normal high school rite of passage.
But the truth is that Brayden didn't just get drunk last night. He got drunk and drove home. The line between “normal kid stuff” and “unacceptable behavior” has been crossed and now they have to do something about it.
They don't really get a chance to talk about it, though, because Brayden's groaning and tripping down the stairs. “Back me up?” Jared asks and Jensen just nods. Like he even has to ask. Jensen's always got his back. Always.
It takes the kid forever to make it to the bottom of the stairs, and Jensen's surprised that he manages to cross the fifteen feet between there and the couch in the front room before he face plants onto it. He mumbles something, but neither of them can hear it from the kitchen.
Jared grabs the protein shake powder from the counter and ice from the freezer. The blender is loud and annoying even for Jensen, and he didn't drink his fill of little blue shots last night. Peeking around the corner, he watches Brayden cover his head with a pillow and angrily try to force his head between the cushions. Jared is a mean motherfucker.
When he's finished, Jared leaves the shake in the blender and walks to the utility closet Jensen's not even sure he knew was there. The cleaning lady knows, and that's enough for him most of the time. The way Jared plugs the vacuum in, only malicious intent in his eyes, almost makes him smile. And when it whirs to life behind the couch, causing Brayden to sit up and launch a pillow in Jared's general direction, he almost laughs. He would, if he wasn't so fucking angry at the little shit.
Jared pays him no attention at all, running the vacuum until Brayden growls and stands from the couch, stomping angrily toward the back door. Jared kills the motor and holds up a finger. A minute later, Brayden returns.
“Where's my fuckin' key?” he demands. Jared just shrugs and Jensen follows his lead. “Pool house is fucking locked,” he mumbles, rifling through the rings on the hook by the garage door. “What the fuck, man?”
Jared digs into the pocket of his jeans and holds Brayden's key ring, along with the spares, up for his son's perusal. “Pool house is on lock down until further notice.”
“What?” Brayden gapes like Jared can't be serious and then looks to Jensen for some back up. Jensen just holds his hands up. “Fine, whatever. Just give me my keys. I'm goin' to Jordan's.”
Jared's laugh is cold, and for a brief moment, Jensen thinks about maybe trying to play peacemaker. Brayden's seen Jared upset before, but he's never actually had that anger directed at him. Jensen knows from personal experience how fucking scary it can actually be. But then he remembers the bike in the driveway and he just can't. He lowers himself to one of the kitchen stools and waits until he's needed.
“Oh, you're not goin' anywhere,” Jared shakes his head and walks back into the kitchen, hip brushing Jensen's arm as he leans on their side of the island, in what Jensen assumes is a show of solidarity. “Not for a long fucking time,” he adds with another dry grin.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brayden stomps his foot like he's six. Granted, he's lived with them for going on five years now, and he's never actually been punished before. It's probably a little confusing, especially hungover. “You're serious about this?”
Jared nods, but Brayden's looking at Jensen, like they're going to team up and outnumber Jared or something. Jensen's not budging, though. “We are serious about this,” he nods.
“This is fucking bull shit!” Brayden shakes his head and then grips the counter as though that was maybe a bad idea. “Like you guys didn't get thrashed at some party in high school.”
It's a classic argument, and one that neither of them can really deny. But Jensen suddenly understands why his parents hated him throwing that excuse around so much when he was a teenager. He was stupid when he was seventeen. Thought he knew his limits, what was best for him, how to take care of himself. Thought he was already man enough to handle anything. He was wrong, and so is Brayden. Fuckin' hell, he hates when the kid makes him understand his own parents. Makes him feel fucking ancient.
“Hell, you still get smashed all the time,” Brayden throws the accusation at Jared and Jensen almost jumps to Jared's defense before Jared gets a chance to speak.
“First of all, I do not get smashed all the time.”
It's true. Jared doesn't drink nearly as much as he used to, and when he does, he barely ever ends up drunk. He knows his limits and adheres to them pretty well. The number of times he's been drunk since Brayden moved into the house, Jensen could count on one hand, and it's only when Brayden is staying overnight with friends. He's always been determined not to let his kid see him like he saw more than a couple of his foster dads back in the day.
“Second of all, I'm a fucking adult. Third, you're right. I did drink too much when I was in high school, but do you know what the difference is, Brayden? Between me then and you now?”
“What?”
“Nobody fucking cared what I did back then, okay? There was nobody waiting up for me at home, and there was nobody who fucking cared if I drove my drunk ass home from some party.”
“Lucky you,” Brayden mumbles under his breath, totally missing the point all together.
“Oh yeah,” Jensen snorts sarcastically. “Your life is so goddamn terrible since you have parents who actually give a motherfucking shit if you come home in one piece.” Tapping his feet against the bottom rung of the stool he's sitting on, Jensen takes a deep breath, shakes his head, and gives up caring that he sounds exactly like his father right now. “Dude, listen. It's not the drinking part, okay? I mean, I would prefer that you didn't, being as you’re genetically predisposed to addiction and all, but we can't stop you from doing what you're going to do when you party with your friends or whatever.
“The problem is that you drove your goddamn bike all the way across town, risking your own life and the lives of anyone else on the road! The problem is that you did the dumbest fucking thing you could possibly do while you were drunk. What the hell were you thinking?”
“It's not like I meant to,” Brayden argues. “I didn't even realize how drunk I was until I was already on the way home. And then there weren't that many cars on the road, so I just figured I was okay to get home.” He shrugs like it's no big deal.
And once again, Jared steals the words from his mouth. “You figured it was okay? Man, that bike is fucking dangerous when you're stone sober, and you fucking know that! You don't respect it and you end up wrapping your ass around a goddamn tree on a normal day! You were fucking drunk, Brayden, and you could have fucking killed yourself!” Brayden rolls his eyes like Jared's concern is blown way out of proportion, and Jensen has to rest his palm on the back of Jared's jeans to keep him grounded. “You drink too much, you call us. You don't drive a fuckin' car, let alone your goddamn bike!”
“Right,” Brayden shoots back and that's when Jensen knows that this is not going to end well. “Because you guys wouldn't have been pissed about being drunk dialed at whatever the fuck in the morning.”
“When the other option is getting a call from the highway patrol that they just scraped your ass off the 405? Are you fucking retarded?” Jared's tone is incredulous, like he can't believe that Brayden would even think that was an option.
“No, I'm not fucking retarded! I made a mistake, okay? One fucking mistake! Give me a motherfucking break! Nobody got hurt! What is the big fucking deal?”
Jensen doesn't think before the apple he's taken from the bowl on the island is flying through the air, crashing into the wall with a splat. Doesn't think because he's so livid, he couldn't even if he tried. “You remember that time you spent three weeks in the hospital because your dad got fucked up and drove around with you in the car? You remember that? Because I sure as fuck do! The big fucking deal is that we could have lost you. One fucking mistake and you could have fucking died! This isn't about having a good time, Brayden. Nobody likes a good time more than us, man, but you crossed the fuckin' line. That's it. Party's over.”
“Whatever,” Brayden rolls his eyes and slumps against the wall, arms crossed over his ever-broadening chest. “Thought you guys were cool.”
“We were,” Jared answers better than Jensen ever could. “Until you acted like an irresponsible jack ass and made us turn into parents. Now you've got no pool house for two months, no bike for six weeks, and you're grounded for a month.”
“You've gotta be kidding me!” Brayden pushes off the wall in disbelief. “For my first fucking offense? You're taking my bike away? How the fuck am I supposed to get anywhere?”
They haven't really talked this out, but Jensen figures Jared's terms are reasonable as any he could pull out of his ass at the last minute. “One of us will take you to school and pick you up. Other than that, you'll be workin' extra hours for me or Jay and hangin' out in your room, so I can't imagine you'll need to get anywhere.”
For a long time, Brayden just looks at them like he's waiting for them to crack a smile and tell him that this is a joke. Jared's tense at his side and Jensen really wishes that he could just wrap the kid up and tell him that they'll let this one slide. He doesn't like this part. Desperately wants to go back to being friends with him, to him not hating them.
“This is fuckin' bull shit,” Brayden sighs when it becomes clear that they're completely serious. He drags himself up the stairs, cursing and mumbling under his breath all the way up to the second floor. He's angry, and he probably will be for a little while. Jensen doesn't particularly like it either, but he knows it's a hell of a lot better than Brayden ever pulling another stunt like last night again.
“We did the right thing, right?” he asks when Brayden's bedroom door slams, rattling the door on the hinges. It feels like the right thing, and he knows they're doing what they have to do. Doesn't make it easy, though.
Jared nods, his hand trailing up and down Jensen's back. “We did the right thing. He could have,” he stops and shakes his head. If there's one thing that they've both learned in the last few years, it's that you never know when life is going to throw you a curve ball. Human life is far too fragile to fuck around with like Brayden did last night. Jared's come close enough to losing both of them already. He doesn't handle it so well. “Think he'll hate us forever?”
It's pretty clear, the hesitation in Jared's voice. He did what he had to do to get his point across, but he knows that Jared would rather give that kid the world than ever take anything away from him. “Not forever,” Jensen speculates. “Maybe until he's not grounded anymore, but not forever.”
They're quiet for a long time and Jared shakes his head, the anger fading but still evident in his tight shoulders. “Can't believe he fuckin',” he stops himself short of finishing the sentence. “Stupid fucking moron.”
Jensen can't disagree. “Hey,” he says, standing from the stool to wrap his arms around Jared's waist. “What he did was stupid, but he's our kid, ya know? He's bound to do some dumb ass shit once in awhile.”
Jared huffs and rolls his neck before looking down to meet Jensen's eye with a raised eyebrow. “Like buying a Black Jack Stroker?”
With a sharp chuckle, Jensen pulls back and smacks Jared's ink-covered bicep. “Watch your fuckin' mouth, or those rubber lips are gonna be the only thing suckin' you off for a long damn time.”
Free Counters
Author:
raeschaePairing: J2
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3800ish
Summary: Jared and Jensen have always treated Brayden like any other member of their crew. When he forces them to act like actual parents? They're none too thrilled.
A Disclaimer Verse OneShot.
A/N: I've been waiting for awhile to do drunk!Brayden - I think, if you've read the other stories, you'll understand why it's more powerful now than it would have been a few stories back. I hope so, anyway.
“Bray say what time he's coming home?”
Jared looks up from the magazine he's been flipping through on the bed for the last twenty minutes and shakes his head. He was about thirty seconds away from going down and dragging Jensen out of his office, and he's kind of glad that he doesn't have to now. “Nah. Probably late, though.”
There was a time when he and Jensen would jump on each other as soon as Brayden left the house for the night, spend however many hours he was gone in bed, and then shower and be waiting for him when he got home. But Brayden's seventeen now, and while they still take advantage of their alone time, he's gone pretty much all the time. It's not so much a special event anymore.
Jensen climbs onto the bed and situates himself behind Jared, lips working at the back of his ear and hands roaming his chest and stomach for a minute before he groans and leans away. “Bought you somethin',” he announces, leaning toward the nightstand..
Shifting without really breaking contact, Jared watches Jensen pull a long, black box from the table on his side of the bed. “What's that?” Jared asks, taking it when Jensen offers and looking at it critically.
The box boasts that it's from California Exotics and also claims that the object Jared is pulling out is the Black Jack Stroker. He's pretty sure he's never seen one with so many accessories. It's a tube within a tube with a pump and a remote control. Nothing good can come of this many wires in close proximity to their dicks.
“Seriously? What? I'm not giving you enough suction?”
Jensen stretches back on the bed, kicks his legs out and crosses them at his ankles, arms behind his head. His Element tee shirt pulls tight across his chest and his biceps flex. He's pretty fucking hot all laid out like that. “Been awhile since we played,” he says, but he can't really hide the laughter when he lets his eyes drift back to Jared's hand.
He examines the tube and then holds it out for Jensen's inspection. “Dude, it's got lips,” he intones. The end of the long plastic tube has lips molded into it, like you might be fooled into thinking an actual person is sucking your dick. While you're working the pump or the remote your damn self. This is the most ridiculous thing Jared's ever seen.
The guffaw that bursts out of Jensen's chest is loud, like he was trying to hold it in but he just can't anymore. “What was I thinking?”
Jared's almost one hundred percent sure he doesn't want to know. The longer he looks at it, the harder Jensen laughs, the funnier it becomes. “You are no longer allowed to shop alone online. Is that clear?”
Rolling his eyes, Jensen takes the pump and holds it next to his face. “Come on. They kinda look like my lips, right?” There are tears glimmering in the corners of his eyes, causing his already-smudged eyeliner to run a little bit, and he's puckering to match the open lips on the toy.
“Dude, you look like Emo Nemo,” Jared yanks the pump back and throws it over the side of the bed, unable to fight a laugh of his own. “And no,” he adds, leaning forward to press his mouth to Jensen's for a second. “There's nothing like your fucking lips, Jen.”
It's not particularly cheesy or even corny, but the line causes them both to lose it all over again, even as they each pull their tee shirts over their heads and toss them somewhere away. There's nothing he loves more than sex with Jensen, and sex that they both laugh through is the best kind of all. He won't say that, of course, but it doesn't make it any less true. Jared never forgets just how hot Jensen is, or how lucky he is to have the guy. Sometimes, though, he does forget just how fucking fun he can be. Life has changed a lot for them in the last few years.
Jensen is just standing to pull his tight jeans over his hips when the front door bangs open downstairs and they hear an exaggerated stage whisper saying, “Shhh. You'll wake Jensen up!”
“Fuckin' hell, man,” Jensen groans, dropping his head low between his shoulders. “Seriously? Another one?”
Brayden was crushed when his first big love, Demi, broke up with him about six months ago. But he recovered in fine Brayden fashion by hooking up with some chick from school about three weeks later. After that, he just kind of slid into a rhythm of bringing a new girl home every couple of weeks, lately days, and if his grades were slipping, or he was acting any weirder than usual, they might actually worry about it.
His boots are heavy on the stairs and Jared wonders why Brayden didn't just take this one out to the pool house, too. He never brings them into the main house. The prospect of his dads meeting one of his potential conquests is far too mortifying for him or something. But he's sure as hell tromping up the stairs and bumping into the wall a lot tonight.
In order to get to his room, Brayden will have to pass theirs, and if he's going to ruin the good thing he and Jensen were about to have going, Jared's going to do his best to cock block the little fucker right back.
Brayden reaches the top of the stairs and staggers, alone. It's pretty obvious what's going on now, and Jared can't help smirking just a little bit. At seventeen, Brayden's certainly a late-bloomer when it comes to the whole 'partying and coming home drunk' thing. At least, he is by Jared's standards. “Hey, Bray,” he greets.
“Shhh,” Brayden holds his hands up and looks around, swaying again and stumbling into the wall. “Fuck,” he growls. “Shut up, Jay,” he scolds, hands on Jared's chest when he wanders back over. “You're gonna wake Jen up.”
If he wasn't one hundred percent sure that the kid was drunk before, he sure as hell is now. “Jesus Christ, kid,” he pulls back, “You drink the whole damn keg?” He's pretty sure that the scent of alcohol is coming out of Brayden's pores at this point.
“Nah, man,” Brayden holds up his fingers, “Just these little blue shots. They were awesome. And blue.”
With a roll of his eyes, Jared nods down the hall. “Go sleep it off, ya fuckin' lush,” he suggests rather firmly. He never really considers himself much of a father, never really had much of an example of what one was supposed to be anyway. But there's no sense in talking to Brayden about the stupidity of becoming a teenage alcoholic while he's still about forty-three sheets to the wind.
Rolling his shoulder, he enters the room and pulls Jensen onto the bed. “Our kid is fucking drunk off his ass,” he mutters, lips more interested in sucking an enormous, totally conspicuous hickey into Jensen's throat.
“Oh good,” Jensen responds dryly, hands fumbling to open Jared's pants. “So he'll be too passed out to hear you beg me to fuck you?”
It's almost eleven, Sunday morning, when Jensen rolls himself out of the bed. He and Jared collapsed against one another around three, and then Jared bolted upright about a half hour later. He barely heard his boyfriend's loud footsteps thundering down to the kitchen before he fell back to sleep, but he's pretty sure that Jared never came back upstairs.
He showers and ventures down in a still-sleepy fog. Brayden's nowhere to be found, but that's not unusual on a regular Sunday morning. Hungover, it could be sunset before they see the kid.
Jared is standing at the kitchen counter, drinking coffee from a mug that's roughly the size of his enormous head and staring out the window, his shoulders tense and his jaw squared. Jared has a bit of a temper, but he doesn't get pissed very often.
“What's wrong?” Jensen asks, hand resting on the small of his boyfriend's back while he reaches around for his own mug and coffee.
Jared nods out the window and Jensen follows his eye line. Fuckin' hell.
Brayden's bike is laying on it's side, back tire on the driveway, front in the yard. Paint job's probably fucked all to hell. “Keys were still in it when I went out there this morning,” Jared grits through clenched teeth.
Which means that the dumb ass moronic idiot drove his motherfucking motorcycle home at two in the morning, drunk off his ass. “What are we gonna do about it?”
Brayden's a good kid. They really kind of lucked out when they decided to “parent” him because he does most of the work himself. He doesn't get in trouble at school, doesn't run with a bad crowd, and doesn't seem interested in most of the things that can fuck a kid up at his age. Sure, he's mouthy as hell, but he kind of learned that from the guys, and he knows when to turn it off and be reasonably polite out in the real world. They pretty much treat him like all of their other friends, because most of the time, he acts like all of their other friends.
Now, they have to be parental, and Jensen thinks it sucks. Because he doesn't want to be the guy who grounds his kid for doing something he did when he was Brayden's age. He doesn't want to be the guy who acts like a hard ass, who punishes his kid for something that he kind of thinks is a normal high school rite of passage.
But the truth is that Brayden didn't just get drunk last night. He got drunk and drove home. The line between “normal kid stuff” and “unacceptable behavior” has been crossed and now they have to do something about it.
They don't really get a chance to talk about it, though, because Brayden's groaning and tripping down the stairs. “Back me up?” Jared asks and Jensen just nods. Like he even has to ask. Jensen's always got his back. Always.
It takes the kid forever to make it to the bottom of the stairs, and Jensen's surprised that he manages to cross the fifteen feet between there and the couch in the front room before he face plants onto it. He mumbles something, but neither of them can hear it from the kitchen.
Jared grabs the protein shake powder from the counter and ice from the freezer. The blender is loud and annoying even for Jensen, and he didn't drink his fill of little blue shots last night. Peeking around the corner, he watches Brayden cover his head with a pillow and angrily try to force his head between the cushions. Jared is a mean motherfucker.
When he's finished, Jared leaves the shake in the blender and walks to the utility closet Jensen's not even sure he knew was there. The cleaning lady knows, and that's enough for him most of the time. The way Jared plugs the vacuum in, only malicious intent in his eyes, almost makes him smile. And when it whirs to life behind the couch, causing Brayden to sit up and launch a pillow in Jared's general direction, he almost laughs. He would, if he wasn't so fucking angry at the little shit.
Jared pays him no attention at all, running the vacuum until Brayden growls and stands from the couch, stomping angrily toward the back door. Jared kills the motor and holds up a finger. A minute later, Brayden returns.
“Where's my fuckin' key?” he demands. Jared just shrugs and Jensen follows his lead. “Pool house is fucking locked,” he mumbles, rifling through the rings on the hook by the garage door. “What the fuck, man?”
Jared digs into the pocket of his jeans and holds Brayden's key ring, along with the spares, up for his son's perusal. “Pool house is on lock down until further notice.”
“What?” Brayden gapes like Jared can't be serious and then looks to Jensen for some back up. Jensen just holds his hands up. “Fine, whatever. Just give me my keys. I'm goin' to Jordan's.”
Jared's laugh is cold, and for a brief moment, Jensen thinks about maybe trying to play peacemaker. Brayden's seen Jared upset before, but he's never actually had that anger directed at him. Jensen knows from personal experience how fucking scary it can actually be. But then he remembers the bike in the driveway and he just can't. He lowers himself to one of the kitchen stools and waits until he's needed.
“Oh, you're not goin' anywhere,” Jared shakes his head and walks back into the kitchen, hip brushing Jensen's arm as he leans on their side of the island, in what Jensen assumes is a show of solidarity. “Not for a long fucking time,” he adds with another dry grin.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brayden stomps his foot like he's six. Granted, he's lived with them for going on five years now, and he's never actually been punished before. It's probably a little confusing, especially hungover. “You're serious about this?”
Jared nods, but Brayden's looking at Jensen, like they're going to team up and outnumber Jared or something. Jensen's not budging, though. “We are serious about this,” he nods.
“This is fucking bull shit!” Brayden shakes his head and then grips the counter as though that was maybe a bad idea. “Like you guys didn't get thrashed at some party in high school.”
It's a classic argument, and one that neither of them can really deny. But Jensen suddenly understands why his parents hated him throwing that excuse around so much when he was a teenager. He was stupid when he was seventeen. Thought he knew his limits, what was best for him, how to take care of himself. Thought he was already man enough to handle anything. He was wrong, and so is Brayden. Fuckin' hell, he hates when the kid makes him understand his own parents. Makes him feel fucking ancient.
“Hell, you still get smashed all the time,” Brayden throws the accusation at Jared and Jensen almost jumps to Jared's defense before Jared gets a chance to speak.
“First of all, I do not get smashed all the time.”
It's true. Jared doesn't drink nearly as much as he used to, and when he does, he barely ever ends up drunk. He knows his limits and adheres to them pretty well. The number of times he's been drunk since Brayden moved into the house, Jensen could count on one hand, and it's only when Brayden is staying overnight with friends. He's always been determined not to let his kid see him like he saw more than a couple of his foster dads back in the day.
“Second of all, I'm a fucking adult. Third, you're right. I did drink too much when I was in high school, but do you know what the difference is, Brayden? Between me then and you now?”
“What?”
“Nobody fucking cared what I did back then, okay? There was nobody waiting up for me at home, and there was nobody who fucking cared if I drove my drunk ass home from some party.”
“Lucky you,” Brayden mumbles under his breath, totally missing the point all together.
“Oh yeah,” Jensen snorts sarcastically. “Your life is so goddamn terrible since you have parents who actually give a motherfucking shit if you come home in one piece.” Tapping his feet against the bottom rung of the stool he's sitting on, Jensen takes a deep breath, shakes his head, and gives up caring that he sounds exactly like his father right now. “Dude, listen. It's not the drinking part, okay? I mean, I would prefer that you didn't, being as you’re genetically predisposed to addiction and all, but we can't stop you from doing what you're going to do when you party with your friends or whatever.
“The problem is that you drove your goddamn bike all the way across town, risking your own life and the lives of anyone else on the road! The problem is that you did the dumbest fucking thing you could possibly do while you were drunk. What the hell were you thinking?”
“It's not like I meant to,” Brayden argues. “I didn't even realize how drunk I was until I was already on the way home. And then there weren't that many cars on the road, so I just figured I was okay to get home.” He shrugs like it's no big deal.
And once again, Jared steals the words from his mouth. “You figured it was okay? Man, that bike is fucking dangerous when you're stone sober, and you fucking know that! You don't respect it and you end up wrapping your ass around a goddamn tree on a normal day! You were fucking drunk, Brayden, and you could have fucking killed yourself!” Brayden rolls his eyes like Jared's concern is blown way out of proportion, and Jensen has to rest his palm on the back of Jared's jeans to keep him grounded. “You drink too much, you call us. You don't drive a fuckin' car, let alone your goddamn bike!”
“Right,” Brayden shoots back and that's when Jensen knows that this is not going to end well. “Because you guys wouldn't have been pissed about being drunk dialed at whatever the fuck in the morning.”
“When the other option is getting a call from the highway patrol that they just scraped your ass off the 405? Are you fucking retarded?” Jared's tone is incredulous, like he can't believe that Brayden would even think that was an option.
“No, I'm not fucking retarded! I made a mistake, okay? One fucking mistake! Give me a motherfucking break! Nobody got hurt! What is the big fucking deal?”
Jensen doesn't think before the apple he's taken from the bowl on the island is flying through the air, crashing into the wall with a splat. Doesn't think because he's so livid, he couldn't even if he tried. “You remember that time you spent three weeks in the hospital because your dad got fucked up and drove around with you in the car? You remember that? Because I sure as fuck do! The big fucking deal is that we could have lost you. One fucking mistake and you could have fucking died! This isn't about having a good time, Brayden. Nobody likes a good time more than us, man, but you crossed the fuckin' line. That's it. Party's over.”
“Whatever,” Brayden rolls his eyes and slumps against the wall, arms crossed over his ever-broadening chest. “Thought you guys were cool.”
“We were,” Jared answers better than Jensen ever could. “Until you acted like an irresponsible jack ass and made us turn into parents. Now you've got no pool house for two months, no bike for six weeks, and you're grounded for a month.”
“You've gotta be kidding me!” Brayden pushes off the wall in disbelief. “For my first fucking offense? You're taking my bike away? How the fuck am I supposed to get anywhere?”
They haven't really talked this out, but Jensen figures Jared's terms are reasonable as any he could pull out of his ass at the last minute. “One of us will take you to school and pick you up. Other than that, you'll be workin' extra hours for me or Jay and hangin' out in your room, so I can't imagine you'll need to get anywhere.”
For a long time, Brayden just looks at them like he's waiting for them to crack a smile and tell him that this is a joke. Jared's tense at his side and Jensen really wishes that he could just wrap the kid up and tell him that they'll let this one slide. He doesn't like this part. Desperately wants to go back to being friends with him, to him not hating them.
“This is fuckin' bull shit,” Brayden sighs when it becomes clear that they're completely serious. He drags himself up the stairs, cursing and mumbling under his breath all the way up to the second floor. He's angry, and he probably will be for a little while. Jensen doesn't particularly like it either, but he knows it's a hell of a lot better than Brayden ever pulling another stunt like last night again.
“We did the right thing, right?” he asks when Brayden's bedroom door slams, rattling the door on the hinges. It feels like the right thing, and he knows they're doing what they have to do. Doesn't make it easy, though.
Jared nods, his hand trailing up and down Jensen's back. “We did the right thing. He could have,” he stops and shakes his head. If there's one thing that they've both learned in the last few years, it's that you never know when life is going to throw you a curve ball. Human life is far too fragile to fuck around with like Brayden did last night. Jared's come close enough to losing both of them already. He doesn't handle it so well. “Think he'll hate us forever?”
It's pretty clear, the hesitation in Jared's voice. He did what he had to do to get his point across, but he knows that Jared would rather give that kid the world than ever take anything away from him. “Not forever,” Jensen speculates. “Maybe until he's not grounded anymore, but not forever.”
They're quiet for a long time and Jared shakes his head, the anger fading but still evident in his tight shoulders. “Can't believe he fuckin',” he stops himself short of finishing the sentence. “Stupid fucking moron.”
Jensen can't disagree. “Hey,” he says, standing from the stool to wrap his arms around Jared's waist. “What he did was stupid, but he's our kid, ya know? He's bound to do some dumb ass shit once in awhile.”
Jared huffs and rolls his neck before looking down to meet Jensen's eye with a raised eyebrow. “Like buying a Black Jack Stroker?”
With a sharp chuckle, Jensen pulls back and smacks Jared's ink-covered bicep. “Watch your fuckin' mouth, or those rubber lips are gonna be the only thing suckin' you off for a long damn time.”
Free Counters
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-02-05 08:43 pm (UTC)For a pair of fun loving guys they sure know how to get into parental mode pretty well. It's even more amazing if you take into account that Jared was the one who came up with the whole punishment thing. I mean Jensen got to kinda turn into his dad but Jared went on pure instinct and love for his kid.
You know, with every one of these time stamps I keep counting how many years the boys have been together. I keep thinking one of them is going to flip out when they reach the 10 year mark and they realize they're an old married couple just like Jen's parents. ;)
This one kinda brought back memories of when my brother flipped his car while drunk. He walked away without a scratch but it wasn't until the next day when I took him to the garage and he saw his car tires up and the smashed roof that he got it. He was 22 at the time and thank God that he drove a sturdy Audi but man, that was the only thing that got him to get his act together. I still get chills just thinking about it.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-05 08:49 pm (UTC)Okay, first of all, thank GOD your brother was okay! And that's totally the case with Brayden, too, I think. He knows it's stupid to drink and drive - he's not an idiot - but he's just not thinking. He doesn't understand yet that he's not invincible, ya know? And I think, once he's not so hungover, and he goes down and finds his bike laying on its side in the driveway, no doubt scraped all to hell? And when he really thinks about the fact that it's nearly impossible to lay a bike down that way without getting trapped under it, he'll get it. Just give him a few more hours, maybe a day.
This story, in my mind, takes place about three months after Falling in the Black, so Jared and Jensen have been together for about 8 years. They're coming up on ten - and that's a timestamp I might have to write at some point. Jensen already dealt with feeling old in Big Boy Bed, but that's different than being old and married. Because they are - even if they keep swearing they're never going to be.
One more thing and then I swear I'll stop rambling. I told someone earlier that I'm not a parent, so I don't have that experience to play off of here. But I have a niece, and I am the world's biggest push over, but it's amazing how much I don't care if she hates me when I won't let her touch the space heater or something equally dangerous. She can glower at me all she wants, but I'd rather have her mad for a second than in the hospital with third degree burns, ya know? Nobody had to teach me that, or tell me what to do. Jared's the same way.
I really do love that icon. I keep staring it while I'm typing.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-05 11:29 pm (UTC)Yea, Bray is going to figure it out once he sees his bike like that. He really does have awesome parents.
Hee! see that's what I mean. These two are so married that they don't even see it. LOL! what do you get these two as an anniversary present more tats? a platinum piercing? LOL!
no subject
Date: 2010-02-05 11:39 pm (UTC)