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Baby Daddy (A Disclaimer Verse OneShot)
Title: Baby Daddy (A Disclaimer Verse OneShot)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
raeschae
Pairing: J2
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4200
Summary: Jared and Jensen are no strangers to four-letter words. But there's one that they never use, and don't quite know how to handle: Baby. Especially if it might be Brayden's.
Part of the Disclaimer Verse
Thanks toneutraldeviance for the beta.
A/N: This idea's been rattling around in my head for awhile now, but it really started to come together while I was spending the weekend at the hospital with my family, and my new twin nephews. It's probably stupid to post this on a Sunday, but I know it's been awhile since I've posted fic - I hope it was sort of worth the wait!
Jared is sprawled out by the pool, nearly asleep, when his phone begins to vibrate on the table beside him. It's not often that he takes a day off without an actual vacation planned, but he's been doing a lot of traveling lately, and things at the shop are busier than ever. Jensen couldn't get away for an overnight to TJ, so he decided to have a day to himself at home. Brayden's working at Ollie this afternoon and Jared's spent most of the day laying by the pool, listening to acoustic rock he'll never admit to owning , suspended in some zen-like state of semi-consciousness.
“'lo,” he mutters, pulling one of the buds out of his ear without bothering to stop the iPod. There's no point – he's not planning on making this a long conversation.
“Dinner,” is Jensen's response, followed immediately by the barely-audible click, and dead air.
So much for that plan. With a groan, Jared rolls from the lounger and stretches onto his toes, bare arms extended over his head. Fuck only knows how long he's been sitting out here, and he can feel the lazy all the way through his muscles and down to his bones. Things are starting to pop after he's stayed in one place too long, and he finds himself grunting when he gets up to move again. That can't be a good sign. He's too young to be getting old.
He's worked nearly all of the kinks out of his shoulders and knees by the time he enters the house. Jensen's pulling take out containers from a bag, and Jared leans against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other, to watch him move for just a second. It's no secret that Jensen's back is Jared's favorite body part, and the way his muscles roll under the pull of his almost-too-tight tee shirt is even more tempting than the smells coming out of those boxes.
He turns, smile teasing the corner of his lips, and Jared pushes off the wall while shaking his hair out of his eyes. The look Jensen shoots back is all for him, and Jared's not entirely sure he'll ever get used to that. “Hey,” he greets, easily dropping his hands to Jensen's waist, and his mouth to grab a kiss.
Jensen does this thing in the back of his throat that almost sounds like an 'oomph' mixed with a whine when Jared kisses him off-guard. It's one of the sexiest sounds Jared's ever heard, and he figures it's a good thing he doesn't talk about shit like that with anyone else. There's no way he'd ever be able to replicate it himself.
When he pulls away, Jensen's eyes are half-lidded. It's probably easy to assume that they're used to greeting each other like this – they've been together for going on nine years now – but it's not something that ever gets old. Walking through a door, seeing Jensen, and feeling like everything's just clicking and settling back into place, even when Jared didn't know anything had shifted out of place to begin with, is something that still happens exactly like it did in the beginning. He can't imagine that ever changing.
“Hey yourself,” Jensen finally manages to say, though it's a little slurred and he's still squeezing Jared's biceps and following his mouth for another kiss.
As much as he loves food, Jared could stand here making out with Jensen in the kitchen until dinner gets cold. They can always order more food. One could also argue that they can always make out later, too, but Jared doesn't see that as such a great argument. Not when Jensen's sucking on his bottom lip and rolling his hips like that.
“Dude, not around the food!”
They pull apart, both grinning knowingly as Brayden drops himself onto his stool at the island and doesn't bother waiting to dig in to one of the burgers Jensen brought him.
Jared hops onto the counter, his shoulders connecting with the cabinet, and he feels better than he has in weeks. Nothing was wrong or anything, he's just been stressed. And if there's one thing Jared doesn't like, it's stress. Usual methods of dealing include punching the heavy bag in the basement until his knuckles would bleed, if not taped, and painting until he can feel his shoulders relaxing. There's also the tried and true technique of having Jensen fuck him until his brains melt into a puddle and threaten to run out his ear, but Jensen's been busy, too, so that hasn't so much been an option, either.
Turns out, spending a day alone and doing absolutely nothing is good for releasing tension, too. He's all-too-happy when Jensen leans against his leg and starts shoveling French fries into his mouth.
They eat in easy silence until Brayden stops, half-way through his first burger, and pushes his plate away. It sends a bolt of concern racing down Jared's spine.
“The fuck's wrong with you?” he demands, and Brayden looks up guiltily while shaking his head. “Bullshit.” If the kid's not eating, something is wrong.
With a heavy sigh, Brayden crosses his arms on the top of the island and drops his face into them. It's a little melodramatic, if you ask Jared, but Brayden's almost eighteen and everything he does is still a little dramatic.
“You're not gonna make us fuckin' guess, are you?” Jensen rolls his eyes and shoves another fry into his mouth. Let it never be said that he's not a caring and compassionate parent.
After another pregnant pause, Brayden lifts his head and shifts around on his stool. “You guys remember Cassie?”
Chances are, Cassie is some girl that Brayden fucked around with at some point or another, but Jared has a hard enough time keeping up with the people he works with on a daily basis. He can't possibly be expected to remember every girl Brayden's ever shown a passing interest in. God himself can't be expected to keep up with that shit.
“She's the cute, little red head, right?” Jensen always remembers them better than Jared ever will.
Or possibly not, because Brayden just shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “That was Cassidy,” he corrects. “Cassie was the hot blond with the ass that wouldn't quit.” Because that narrows it down. “The one I took to Chad's birthday party?” He tilts his head a little. “Or maybe it was Mike's. Fuck, I don't remember. We only went out once.”
Jared wants to ask which ones he's gone out with more than once, but it seems a little off topic at the moment. “Whatever. What's the point?”
“She came to see me today,” Brayden explains, face turning a little pale. “And she's pregnant.”
Until now, Jared was sure that spit-takes only happened in movies and on television. The way Jensen's water explodes from his mouth, all over the front of his shirt and nearly hits the island tells him otherwise. “Holy shit,” he exclaims, wiping his chin while his eyes bulge comically. “Please tell me that she doesn't think it's yours.”
Brayden now looks a little incredulous. “Why the fuck would I even tell you if she didn't think it was mine?” His voice raises nearly an octave and it kind of reminds Jared of when the kid was in junior high. He'd laugh if they weren't, ya know, talking about damn babies.
“Do you think it's yours?” Jensen asks, and Jared wants to insert something into this conversation, some brilliant words of wisdom or something, but it's not exactly a topic of conversation he knows anything about. In fact, he's not sure there's anything in the world he knows less about than this right here.
With a massive shrug, Brayden stands and crosses to the refrigerator. Jared doesn't usually notice shit like this, but he looks younger than he has in awhile, face scared and vulnerable, like he thinks there's a monster in the closet or something. That's his kid, standing as tall as the refrigerator and draining water like he hasn't taken a drink in a year. It kind of makes Jared want to simultaneously mock him, and beat someone up to make this go away.
When he's drained an entire bottle, and withdrawn another, Brayden wipes the back of his mouth with his arm and shakes his head. “I don't know, man. I mean, we only did it once, and you know I don't do that shit without wrappin' it up first.”
“Every time?” Jensen questions. He leans back into Jared's hand on his neck, and Jared takes a minute to remind himself that the weight of Jensen against him means that this is real and he's in this moment with them. Everything else he's feeling points to a really fucked up dream or something.
“Yes, every fucking time,” Brayden asserts, looking a little affronted that they would even question him. “Even I'm not dumb enough to think I can do what I do without bein' fucking careful. Give me a little credit here!”
Tensions will rise and tempers will flair if someone doesn't step in. Jared would be the one, but his temper's worse than any of them, and he can't afford to blow up on this one. Brayden's clearly already terrified, and Jensen is in shock. Jared sticking his fist through the cabinet again isn't going to solve anything.
Before Jared can interject, though, Brayden starts in again. “Jordan and Elle think she's makin' it up. 'Cause, ya know, it wasn't that long ago that we hooked up, and Elle says she probably wouldn't even know yet that she was pregnant if the kid was mine.”
Elle is the girl that Brayden hangs out with, never fucks, and says he might marry some day, if that plan to marry a Playboy model falls through or whatever.
“Why would anyone make that up?” Jensen seems appalled at the very idea, and Jared can't really blame him. He can't imagine a single good reason for pretending to be pregnant when you're only seventeen. Or any age, for that matter.
“Jordan thinks she's after my money.”
Jared finally finds some words. “You don't have any money.” Off of Brayden's eye roll and obvious glance around the room, Jared huffs a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, Jensen and I have a shit ton of money. You have no money of your own. If the way you keep forgetting to send your college applications out is any indication, you're not gonna have your own fucking money for a long damn time, either.”
Brayden is not amused by the joke, but Jared's not kidding, so he figures it all evens out. They're more than willing to pay for any school Brayden wants to attend, and his grades are good enough to get in to all of the places he might actually want to go. The problem is that he's expressed, on more than one occasion, his desire to skip higher learning all together and jump into an apprenticeship with Z down at the bike shop on the pier as soon as high school ends. Jensen doesn't seem to think it's a terrible idea, because Brayden knows what he wants and is willing to take necessary steps to get it.
But the way Brayden talks about the future, about how he's going to learn the ropes from Z and take over the shop when he's ready to retire some day, makes Jared nervous. Sure, he did the same thing with Slinging Ink, but that didn't make it easy, or particularly intelligent. And when Jensen started Ollie, he worked his ass off to find clients and funding.
Jared can see where Brayden would want to follow in their footsteps – he came along after they'd already put in a lot of the leg work to create successful businesses that they love – but he's not entirely sure that Brayden understands what he's actually talking about doing. A degree would give him more options, and if anyone knows what it's like to feel he has no choice but to be good at what he does, it's Jared.
“Can we table the whole 'what are you going to do with your future' discussion until we figure out if my future involves wearing a Maya Wrap?” He receives two skeptical eyebrow raises. “It's one of those slings you wear around your,” he gestures over his shoulder and around his chest before having the decency to blush and look away. “Nevermind. Not the point.”
Pushing away from the counter, Jensen dumps his container into the trash and runs both hands over the top of his hair. “Okay, well, I guess the first step is to figure out if she's actually lying. Gotta be honest with ya, though, it makes me a little uncomfortable to assume any girl would make some shit like that up, ya know? I mean, I'd like to believe that she honestly thinks that it's true.”
Jared would like to believe a bad ass unicorn is going to come walking through the front door right now, but unless they all pop a bunch of X, he doesn't see it working out that way. “What'd she say when she told you?”
Brayden leans his hip against the refrigerator and crosses his arms over his chest, bottle tapping an erratic rhythm on his hip. “Just that she took a test, found out she's pregnant, and she's scared as shit to tell her folks. Wanted me to know about it, in case they took it bad or whatever.” His chest rises and falls with his sigh. “That's it.”
The problem with this whole scenario for Jared is that Brayden is a pretty happy kid. He doesn't get all maudlin and emo very often, and never over important things. He just squares his shoulders, puts his head down, and barrels through whatever hell he's going through at the time. But right now, he looks defeated, and that's not something Jared approves of, or in any way enjoys.
“How far along does she have to be to request a DNA test?” Jensen asks.
While Jensen doesn't say so specifically, Jared realizes that this question is being addressed to him. “How the fuck do I know?” he shoots back. “This is why we fuck men, Jensen. They don't get knocked up.”
“Yes. That's exactly why we fuck men, Jared. To avoid parenthood.” Gesturing widely over his shoulder, he feigns innocence with wide eyes. “And just look how well that turned out.”
“Such a motherfucking drama queen,” Jared rolls his eyes and lets his head fall back against the cabinet with a thud. “Who do we know that might know about this shit?”
Brayden holds his phone up, eyes fixated on the screen. “Google,” he says, distracted while he reads what he's finding there. “I guess they could do it before the kid's born, but it's easier to wait until after.” Dropping his phone back into his pocket, he scrubs a hand over his face, shoulders sagging.
“What do you want to do, Brayden?” It's not often that Jared uses his full name – at least, not when directly addressing him – so that may be the reason that Brayden looks so shocked when he meets Jared's eye. “Listen, man, if this is your kid, you gotta make the call, okay? We'll back you, but it's on you to take care of it.”
It's probably the hardest advice he's ever given. Part of Jared really wants to head over to this Cassie girl's house and tell her just what a reckless whore she is. The larger part realizes, though, that they're pretty fucking lucky this shit hasn't happened before now. In the two years that Brayden has been sexually active, he's been really fucking active. If anyone is a whore in this scenario, it's Jared's kid. There's no pride, or shame, in the realization, just honesty that undercuts his ability to judge this girl.
With a shake of his head, Brayden makes his way back to the island and slumps onto the stool so hard Jared thinks it might shatter under the weight. “I just want it to be yesterday, ya know? Back when life was simple and there was no such thing as babies.”
Neither Jensen nor Jared are in high enough spirits to laugh at the stupidity of his statement.
“You have homework?” Jensen finally asks, after what feels like an eternity of silence.
Brayden barely nods and then flops his head back down onto his arms and lets out a loud sigh.
Grabbing Jared's empty container, Jensen makes his way to the trash, speaking over his shoulder. “Go do it.” Brayden shoots him a look of surprise. “Look, there's nothing we can do about this shit right this instant, and if you fail out of school during your senior year, I'm pretty sure Jay will kill you with his bare hands. Go.”
Brayden clomps off down the hall, and exits onto the patio, en route to the pool house. It's only once he's gone that Jared notices Jensen's hands shaking.
“Hey,” he slides off the counter and makes his way across the room, hands on Jensen's shoulders. “Look at me, Jen.” The fear that is radiating back at him kind of throws Jared for a loop. “Hey, maybe it's not,” he starts, but he doesn't really know how to finish that sentence, so he just stops and pulls Jensen to his chest.
For a long time, they stand there, and Jared wishes that it was as easy as punching something. Or even just growling and being ten kinds of intimidating and scary. He can do those things. This, though, isn't something he's equipped to handle. Oh, it's something they tease Brayden about all the time – warn him that some girl's gonna sue him for child support before he's out of high school or whatever – but they never really think it's going to happen. Because who really thinks this kind of thing is going to happen to their kid?
“I don't even know what we're supposed to do,” Jensen finally says, pulling away and smacking his palm against the refrigerator door. “I mean, she kinda has to call the shots here, right? Her baby, her body, all that shit? How are we supposed to fix this, Jared?”
Jared only wishes he knew. “Remember when he was, like, twelve? And the biggest problem we had to deal with was keepin' enough pizza rolls in the house for him?”
With a frustrated huff, Jensen stuffs his hands into his pockets and casts a look toward the back door. “Should I call my mom?” Jared can tell from the stiffening of his shoulders that Jensen's mother is the last person he wants to talk to about this situation.
“Grab your sketch pad and meet me in the living room,” Jared proposes instead.
For the next hour, Jensen makes up ridiculous super heroes, and Jared counters with their porn alter-egos. It's juvenile and stupid, and they haven't bothered to do it in years, but somehow, it calms the nervous tension between them. At least, for a little while.
*
Brayden declares a moratorium on sex later that night– insists that he isn't going to fuck a girl until he knows her better and doesn't have to worry about shit like this happening again. Jared wants to point out that 'knowing a girl better' isn't exactly contraception, but Jensen just claps a hand over his mouth and tells Brayden he thinks it's a good idea.
They've always kind of known that the endless string of random girls is never really about the sex for Brayden, but neither has ever figured out how to approach the subject. Instead, they just hang out with him when he would normally be on a date, and Jared finds that family time is another stress reliever for him. Chilling in the theater, everyone sprawled out in their seats, while they mock B-grade horror movies, is a great way to spend a night. Sometimes their whole crew hangs out at Ollie, and they take Brayden and Jordan up to San Francisco for a weekend art show at one point.
All the while, the possibility hangs over them like a silent storm cloud, but they're pretty good at ignoring anything remotely unpleasant until they have to deal with it. It's a skill years in the honing for all three of them.
*
Jared's kicked back beside Genevieve at the reception desk when Brayden bursts through the door at Slinging Ink almost a month later.
“You still there?” Brayden barks into his phone, tossing it onto the desk and leaning forward on his elbows.
Jared sits up straighter and smiles when he hears the voice on the other end say, “The fuck you think I'm gonna go?”
“Hey, Jen,” he calls out, and Brayden rolls his eyes when he follows up with, “What're you wearin'?”
“Fuckin' hell, man!” Brayden erupts, both hands covering his face as he shakes his head. “Can you two please stop being disgusting for one fucking second?”
“What the fuck is going on?” Jensen's disembodied voice demands.
“Cassie just called me,” Brayden announces, and it's as if everyone in the shop draws a shaky, collective breath. “Baby is real, but it is not mine!”
“How can they be sure?” Genevieve asks, skeptical.
Brayden shoots her a look that says she's not in on this conversation, even though he's having it on speaker phone right beside her. With a huff, he stands up a little straighter. “Parents made her go to the doctor to get another test, and as far along as he says she is, there's no way that kid can be mine. We didn't even meet until she was already pregnant.”
Jared doesn't know how he's supposed to react. He's glad, obviously, that his kid isn't going to be a father before he's a high school graduate. But it doesn't really feel like something they should start cheering about or anything, either. The whole situation is so fucked up, and even if the kid's not Brayden's, Cassie still has to live with the reality that Brayden narrowly avoided.
“Congratulations on dodging the bullet?” Jensen's tone conveys exactly what Jared's been thinking. He loves that they're on the same page, even when they're not in the same city. Jensen won't be back from San Diego until tomorrow, and Jared really wishes he was here right now. “Can I go back to work now?”
With a roll of his eyes, Brayden says a quick good-bye and disconnects the call. “Let's go get dinner?” he asks.
Standing, Jared rolls his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. “You don't wanna go find some unsuspecting chick to celebrate with?” he questions, leading the way through the back of the shop.
The sober look on Brayden's face kind of surprises Jared as they climb into the front seat of his car. “I'm not sayin' I'm never fuckin' anyone again, Jay. I mean, come on. But maybe every hot chick I see isn't the best idea, ya know?”
Jared doesn't say anything in response, but he's a little bit proud of the kid for learning from his mistakes.
Of course, three days later, he heads out to the pool house and finds some random girl he's never seen spread out on the pool table, and a side of Brayden that he'd rather just never, ever think of ever again, thank you very much. Kid's supposed to lock the fucking door. Jesus.
When he lets himself back into the bedroom, Jensen is naked in the bed. Fantastic as that image is, it doesn't wash the other one from his brain. “Brayden's got a girl in the pool house,” he explains when he falls, face first, into his mattress.
Jensen's hand follows the long line of Jared's back and his breath is warm against Jared's neck. “He'll figure it out eventually,” he assures. It's pretty fucking funny, considering Jensen's the one who's been more worried about Brayden's tendencies for the last couple of years.
“How can you be sure?” he asks, rolling his face on the pillow.
Jensen's mere inches away when he smiles, and it does something to Jared that he will never admit out loud. He shrugs, presses open lips to Jared's shoulder, and then pulls back to say, “We did.”
He thinks about pointing out the fact that not everybody is as lucky as they are. Thankfully, Jensen rids him of his shorts and promptly makes him forget how to speak before he can.
Author:
raeschaePairing: J2
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4200
Summary: Jared and Jensen are no strangers to four-letter words. But there's one that they never use, and don't quite know how to handle: Baby. Especially if it might be Brayden's.
Part of the Disclaimer Verse
Thanks to
neutraldeviance for the beta.A/N: This idea's been rattling around in my head for awhile now, but it really started to come together while I was spending the weekend at the hospital with my family, and my new twin nephews. It's probably stupid to post this on a Sunday, but I know it's been awhile since I've posted fic - I hope it was sort of worth the wait!
Jared is sprawled out by the pool, nearly asleep, when his phone begins to vibrate on the table beside him. It's not often that he takes a day off without an actual vacation planned, but he's been doing a lot of traveling lately, and things at the shop are busier than ever. Jensen couldn't get away for an overnight to TJ, so he decided to have a day to himself at home. Brayden's working at Ollie this afternoon and Jared's spent most of the day laying by the pool, listening to acoustic rock he'll never admit to owning , suspended in some zen-like state of semi-consciousness.
“'lo,” he mutters, pulling one of the buds out of his ear without bothering to stop the iPod. There's no point – he's not planning on making this a long conversation.
“Dinner,” is Jensen's response, followed immediately by the barely-audible click, and dead air.
So much for that plan. With a groan, Jared rolls from the lounger and stretches onto his toes, bare arms extended over his head. Fuck only knows how long he's been sitting out here, and he can feel the lazy all the way through his muscles and down to his bones. Things are starting to pop after he's stayed in one place too long, and he finds himself grunting when he gets up to move again. That can't be a good sign. He's too young to be getting old.
He's worked nearly all of the kinks out of his shoulders and knees by the time he enters the house. Jensen's pulling take out containers from a bag, and Jared leans against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other, to watch him move for just a second. It's no secret that Jensen's back is Jared's favorite body part, and the way his muscles roll under the pull of his almost-too-tight tee shirt is even more tempting than the smells coming out of those boxes.
He turns, smile teasing the corner of his lips, and Jared pushes off the wall while shaking his hair out of his eyes. The look Jensen shoots back is all for him, and Jared's not entirely sure he'll ever get used to that. “Hey,” he greets, easily dropping his hands to Jensen's waist, and his mouth to grab a kiss.
Jensen does this thing in the back of his throat that almost sounds like an 'oomph' mixed with a whine when Jared kisses him off-guard. It's one of the sexiest sounds Jared's ever heard, and he figures it's a good thing he doesn't talk about shit like that with anyone else. There's no way he'd ever be able to replicate it himself.
When he pulls away, Jensen's eyes are half-lidded. It's probably easy to assume that they're used to greeting each other like this – they've been together for going on nine years now – but it's not something that ever gets old. Walking through a door, seeing Jensen, and feeling like everything's just clicking and settling back into place, even when Jared didn't know anything had shifted out of place to begin with, is something that still happens exactly like it did in the beginning. He can't imagine that ever changing.
“Hey yourself,” Jensen finally manages to say, though it's a little slurred and he's still squeezing Jared's biceps and following his mouth for another kiss.
As much as he loves food, Jared could stand here making out with Jensen in the kitchen until dinner gets cold. They can always order more food. One could also argue that they can always make out later, too, but Jared doesn't see that as such a great argument. Not when Jensen's sucking on his bottom lip and rolling his hips like that.
“Dude, not around the food!”
They pull apart, both grinning knowingly as Brayden drops himself onto his stool at the island and doesn't bother waiting to dig in to one of the burgers Jensen brought him.
Jared hops onto the counter, his shoulders connecting with the cabinet, and he feels better than he has in weeks. Nothing was wrong or anything, he's just been stressed. And if there's one thing Jared doesn't like, it's stress. Usual methods of dealing include punching the heavy bag in the basement until his knuckles would bleed, if not taped, and painting until he can feel his shoulders relaxing. There's also the tried and true technique of having Jensen fuck him until his brains melt into a puddle and threaten to run out his ear, but Jensen's been busy, too, so that hasn't so much been an option, either.
Turns out, spending a day alone and doing absolutely nothing is good for releasing tension, too. He's all-too-happy when Jensen leans against his leg and starts shoveling French fries into his mouth.
They eat in easy silence until Brayden stops, half-way through his first burger, and pushes his plate away. It sends a bolt of concern racing down Jared's spine.
“The fuck's wrong with you?” he demands, and Brayden looks up guiltily while shaking his head. “Bullshit.” If the kid's not eating, something is wrong.
With a heavy sigh, Brayden crosses his arms on the top of the island and drops his face into them. It's a little melodramatic, if you ask Jared, but Brayden's almost eighteen and everything he does is still a little dramatic.
“You're not gonna make us fuckin' guess, are you?” Jensen rolls his eyes and shoves another fry into his mouth. Let it never be said that he's not a caring and compassionate parent.
After another pregnant pause, Brayden lifts his head and shifts around on his stool. “You guys remember Cassie?”
Chances are, Cassie is some girl that Brayden fucked around with at some point or another, but Jared has a hard enough time keeping up with the people he works with on a daily basis. He can't possibly be expected to remember every girl Brayden's ever shown a passing interest in. God himself can't be expected to keep up with that shit.
“She's the cute, little red head, right?” Jensen always remembers them better than Jared ever will.
Or possibly not, because Brayden just shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “That was Cassidy,” he corrects. “Cassie was the hot blond with the ass that wouldn't quit.” Because that narrows it down. “The one I took to Chad's birthday party?” He tilts his head a little. “Or maybe it was Mike's. Fuck, I don't remember. We only went out once.”
Jared wants to ask which ones he's gone out with more than once, but it seems a little off topic at the moment. “Whatever. What's the point?”
“She came to see me today,” Brayden explains, face turning a little pale. “And she's pregnant.”
Until now, Jared was sure that spit-takes only happened in movies and on television. The way Jensen's water explodes from his mouth, all over the front of his shirt and nearly hits the island tells him otherwise. “Holy shit,” he exclaims, wiping his chin while his eyes bulge comically. “Please tell me that she doesn't think it's yours.”
Brayden now looks a little incredulous. “Why the fuck would I even tell you if she didn't think it was mine?” His voice raises nearly an octave and it kind of reminds Jared of when the kid was in junior high. He'd laugh if they weren't, ya know, talking about damn babies.
“Do you think it's yours?” Jensen asks, and Jared wants to insert something into this conversation, some brilliant words of wisdom or something, but it's not exactly a topic of conversation he knows anything about. In fact, he's not sure there's anything in the world he knows less about than this right here.
With a massive shrug, Brayden stands and crosses to the refrigerator. Jared doesn't usually notice shit like this, but he looks younger than he has in awhile, face scared and vulnerable, like he thinks there's a monster in the closet or something. That's his kid, standing as tall as the refrigerator and draining water like he hasn't taken a drink in a year. It kind of makes Jared want to simultaneously mock him, and beat someone up to make this go away.
When he's drained an entire bottle, and withdrawn another, Brayden wipes the back of his mouth with his arm and shakes his head. “I don't know, man. I mean, we only did it once, and you know I don't do that shit without wrappin' it up first.”
“Every time?” Jensen questions. He leans back into Jared's hand on his neck, and Jared takes a minute to remind himself that the weight of Jensen against him means that this is real and he's in this moment with them. Everything else he's feeling points to a really fucked up dream or something.
“Yes, every fucking time,” Brayden asserts, looking a little affronted that they would even question him. “Even I'm not dumb enough to think I can do what I do without bein' fucking careful. Give me a little credit here!”
Tensions will rise and tempers will flair if someone doesn't step in. Jared would be the one, but his temper's worse than any of them, and he can't afford to blow up on this one. Brayden's clearly already terrified, and Jensen is in shock. Jared sticking his fist through the cabinet again isn't going to solve anything.
Before Jared can interject, though, Brayden starts in again. “Jordan and Elle think she's makin' it up. 'Cause, ya know, it wasn't that long ago that we hooked up, and Elle says she probably wouldn't even know yet that she was pregnant if the kid was mine.”
Elle is the girl that Brayden hangs out with, never fucks, and says he might marry some day, if that plan to marry a Playboy model falls through or whatever.
“Why would anyone make that up?” Jensen seems appalled at the very idea, and Jared can't really blame him. He can't imagine a single good reason for pretending to be pregnant when you're only seventeen. Or any age, for that matter.
“Jordan thinks she's after my money.”
Jared finally finds some words. “You don't have any money.” Off of Brayden's eye roll and obvious glance around the room, Jared huffs a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, Jensen and I have a shit ton of money. You have no money of your own. If the way you keep forgetting to send your college applications out is any indication, you're not gonna have your own fucking money for a long damn time, either.”
Brayden is not amused by the joke, but Jared's not kidding, so he figures it all evens out. They're more than willing to pay for any school Brayden wants to attend, and his grades are good enough to get in to all of the places he might actually want to go. The problem is that he's expressed, on more than one occasion, his desire to skip higher learning all together and jump into an apprenticeship with Z down at the bike shop on the pier as soon as high school ends. Jensen doesn't seem to think it's a terrible idea, because Brayden knows what he wants and is willing to take necessary steps to get it.
But the way Brayden talks about the future, about how he's going to learn the ropes from Z and take over the shop when he's ready to retire some day, makes Jared nervous. Sure, he did the same thing with Slinging Ink, but that didn't make it easy, or particularly intelligent. And when Jensen started Ollie, he worked his ass off to find clients and funding.
Jared can see where Brayden would want to follow in their footsteps – he came along after they'd already put in a lot of the leg work to create successful businesses that they love – but he's not entirely sure that Brayden understands what he's actually talking about doing. A degree would give him more options, and if anyone knows what it's like to feel he has no choice but to be good at what he does, it's Jared.
“Can we table the whole 'what are you going to do with your future' discussion until we figure out if my future involves wearing a Maya Wrap?” He receives two skeptical eyebrow raises. “It's one of those slings you wear around your,” he gestures over his shoulder and around his chest before having the decency to blush and look away. “Nevermind. Not the point.”
Pushing away from the counter, Jensen dumps his container into the trash and runs both hands over the top of his hair. “Okay, well, I guess the first step is to figure out if she's actually lying. Gotta be honest with ya, though, it makes me a little uncomfortable to assume any girl would make some shit like that up, ya know? I mean, I'd like to believe that she honestly thinks that it's true.”
Jared would like to believe a bad ass unicorn is going to come walking through the front door right now, but unless they all pop a bunch of X, he doesn't see it working out that way. “What'd she say when she told you?”
Brayden leans his hip against the refrigerator and crosses his arms over his chest, bottle tapping an erratic rhythm on his hip. “Just that she took a test, found out she's pregnant, and she's scared as shit to tell her folks. Wanted me to know about it, in case they took it bad or whatever.” His chest rises and falls with his sigh. “That's it.”
The problem with this whole scenario for Jared is that Brayden is a pretty happy kid. He doesn't get all maudlin and emo very often, and never over important things. He just squares his shoulders, puts his head down, and barrels through whatever hell he's going through at the time. But right now, he looks defeated, and that's not something Jared approves of, or in any way enjoys.
“How far along does she have to be to request a DNA test?” Jensen asks.
While Jensen doesn't say so specifically, Jared realizes that this question is being addressed to him. “How the fuck do I know?” he shoots back. “This is why we fuck men, Jensen. They don't get knocked up.”
“Yes. That's exactly why we fuck men, Jared. To avoid parenthood.” Gesturing widely over his shoulder, he feigns innocence with wide eyes. “And just look how well that turned out.”
“Such a motherfucking drama queen,” Jared rolls his eyes and lets his head fall back against the cabinet with a thud. “Who do we know that might know about this shit?”
Brayden holds his phone up, eyes fixated on the screen. “Google,” he says, distracted while he reads what he's finding there. “I guess they could do it before the kid's born, but it's easier to wait until after.” Dropping his phone back into his pocket, he scrubs a hand over his face, shoulders sagging.
“What do you want to do, Brayden?” It's not often that Jared uses his full name – at least, not when directly addressing him – so that may be the reason that Brayden looks so shocked when he meets Jared's eye. “Listen, man, if this is your kid, you gotta make the call, okay? We'll back you, but it's on you to take care of it.”
It's probably the hardest advice he's ever given. Part of Jared really wants to head over to this Cassie girl's house and tell her just what a reckless whore she is. The larger part realizes, though, that they're pretty fucking lucky this shit hasn't happened before now. In the two years that Brayden has been sexually active, he's been really fucking active. If anyone is a whore in this scenario, it's Jared's kid. There's no pride, or shame, in the realization, just honesty that undercuts his ability to judge this girl.
With a shake of his head, Brayden makes his way back to the island and slumps onto the stool so hard Jared thinks it might shatter under the weight. “I just want it to be yesterday, ya know? Back when life was simple and there was no such thing as babies.”
Neither Jensen nor Jared are in high enough spirits to laugh at the stupidity of his statement.
“You have homework?” Jensen finally asks, after what feels like an eternity of silence.
Brayden barely nods and then flops his head back down onto his arms and lets out a loud sigh.
Grabbing Jared's empty container, Jensen makes his way to the trash, speaking over his shoulder. “Go do it.” Brayden shoots him a look of surprise. “Look, there's nothing we can do about this shit right this instant, and if you fail out of school during your senior year, I'm pretty sure Jay will kill you with his bare hands. Go.”
Brayden clomps off down the hall, and exits onto the patio, en route to the pool house. It's only once he's gone that Jared notices Jensen's hands shaking.
“Hey,” he slides off the counter and makes his way across the room, hands on Jensen's shoulders. “Look at me, Jen.” The fear that is radiating back at him kind of throws Jared for a loop. “Hey, maybe it's not,” he starts, but he doesn't really know how to finish that sentence, so he just stops and pulls Jensen to his chest.
For a long time, they stand there, and Jared wishes that it was as easy as punching something. Or even just growling and being ten kinds of intimidating and scary. He can do those things. This, though, isn't something he's equipped to handle. Oh, it's something they tease Brayden about all the time – warn him that some girl's gonna sue him for child support before he's out of high school or whatever – but they never really think it's going to happen. Because who really thinks this kind of thing is going to happen to their kid?
“I don't even know what we're supposed to do,” Jensen finally says, pulling away and smacking his palm against the refrigerator door. “I mean, she kinda has to call the shots here, right? Her baby, her body, all that shit? How are we supposed to fix this, Jared?”
Jared only wishes he knew. “Remember when he was, like, twelve? And the biggest problem we had to deal with was keepin' enough pizza rolls in the house for him?”
With a frustrated huff, Jensen stuffs his hands into his pockets and casts a look toward the back door. “Should I call my mom?” Jared can tell from the stiffening of his shoulders that Jensen's mother is the last person he wants to talk to about this situation.
“Grab your sketch pad and meet me in the living room,” Jared proposes instead.
For the next hour, Jensen makes up ridiculous super heroes, and Jared counters with their porn alter-egos. It's juvenile and stupid, and they haven't bothered to do it in years, but somehow, it calms the nervous tension between them. At least, for a little while.
*
Brayden declares a moratorium on sex later that night– insists that he isn't going to fuck a girl until he knows her better and doesn't have to worry about shit like this happening again. Jared wants to point out that 'knowing a girl better' isn't exactly contraception, but Jensen just claps a hand over his mouth and tells Brayden he thinks it's a good idea.
They've always kind of known that the endless string of random girls is never really about the sex for Brayden, but neither has ever figured out how to approach the subject. Instead, they just hang out with him when he would normally be on a date, and Jared finds that family time is another stress reliever for him. Chilling in the theater, everyone sprawled out in their seats, while they mock B-grade horror movies, is a great way to spend a night. Sometimes their whole crew hangs out at Ollie, and they take Brayden and Jordan up to San Francisco for a weekend art show at one point.
All the while, the possibility hangs over them like a silent storm cloud, but they're pretty good at ignoring anything remotely unpleasant until they have to deal with it. It's a skill years in the honing for all three of them.
*
Jared's kicked back beside Genevieve at the reception desk when Brayden bursts through the door at Slinging Ink almost a month later.
“You still there?” Brayden barks into his phone, tossing it onto the desk and leaning forward on his elbows.
Jared sits up straighter and smiles when he hears the voice on the other end say, “The fuck you think I'm gonna go?”
“Hey, Jen,” he calls out, and Brayden rolls his eyes when he follows up with, “What're you wearin'?”
“Fuckin' hell, man!” Brayden erupts, both hands covering his face as he shakes his head. “Can you two please stop being disgusting for one fucking second?”
“What the fuck is going on?” Jensen's disembodied voice demands.
“Cassie just called me,” Brayden announces, and it's as if everyone in the shop draws a shaky, collective breath. “Baby is real, but it is not mine!”
“How can they be sure?” Genevieve asks, skeptical.
Brayden shoots her a look that says she's not in on this conversation, even though he's having it on speaker phone right beside her. With a huff, he stands up a little straighter. “Parents made her go to the doctor to get another test, and as far along as he says she is, there's no way that kid can be mine. We didn't even meet until she was already pregnant.”
Jared doesn't know how he's supposed to react. He's glad, obviously, that his kid isn't going to be a father before he's a high school graduate. But it doesn't really feel like something they should start cheering about or anything, either. The whole situation is so fucked up, and even if the kid's not Brayden's, Cassie still has to live with the reality that Brayden narrowly avoided.
“Congratulations on dodging the bullet?” Jensen's tone conveys exactly what Jared's been thinking. He loves that they're on the same page, even when they're not in the same city. Jensen won't be back from San Diego until tomorrow, and Jared really wishes he was here right now. “Can I go back to work now?”
With a roll of his eyes, Brayden says a quick good-bye and disconnects the call. “Let's go get dinner?” he asks.
Standing, Jared rolls his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. “You don't wanna go find some unsuspecting chick to celebrate with?” he questions, leading the way through the back of the shop.
The sober look on Brayden's face kind of surprises Jared as they climb into the front seat of his car. “I'm not sayin' I'm never fuckin' anyone again, Jay. I mean, come on. But maybe every hot chick I see isn't the best idea, ya know?”
Jared doesn't say anything in response, but he's a little bit proud of the kid for learning from his mistakes.
Of course, three days later, he heads out to the pool house and finds some random girl he's never seen spread out on the pool table, and a side of Brayden that he'd rather just never, ever think of ever again, thank you very much. Kid's supposed to lock the fucking door. Jesus.
When he lets himself back into the bedroom, Jensen is naked in the bed. Fantastic as that image is, it doesn't wash the other one from his brain. “Brayden's got a girl in the pool house,” he explains when he falls, face first, into his mattress.
Jensen's hand follows the long line of Jared's back and his breath is warm against Jared's neck. “He'll figure it out eventually,” he assures. It's pretty fucking funny, considering Jensen's the one who's been more worried about Brayden's tendencies for the last couple of years.
“How can you be sure?” he asks, rolling his face on the pillow.
Jensen's mere inches away when he smiles, and it does something to Jared that he will never admit out loud. He shrugs, presses open lips to Jared's shoulder, and then pulls back to say, “We did.”
He thinks about pointing out the fact that not everybody is as lucky as they are. Thankfully, Jensen rids him of his shorts and promptly makes him forget how to speak before he can.
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