Title: So THAT'S What Friends Are For?
Author:
raeschae
Rating: R (for language and minor sexual situations)
Pairings: Jared/Jensen; Jared/Chad (Yeah, I know)
Warnings: Jared/Chad ('nuff said)
Word Count: 3500 (or so)
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. I don't claim any of this as reality. And once you're done reading it, you'll know that for yourself.
Summary: So a week ago, Jared let slip that something might have happened once upon a time between him and Chad. Jensen doesn't know why he really wants to know, but he really wants to know what went down that night. Part of the disclaimer!verse.
A/N: I just want to say, right up front, that I know this installment of the 'verse is not going to be everyone's cup of tea. The idea of Jared and Chad together really doesn't do it for some people, and I get that. I'm usually one of those people, too. But this is one of the ideas I've had for a OneShot from WAY back in the beginning of the original story. So I wrote it, and I kind of love it a lot. I hope you do, too.
Also, thanks go to my beta
neutraldeviance as always for the beta. You make me a better writer, and you'll probably never know how much I appreciate that. Thank you, babe!
Jensen thinks he deserves a goddamn medal for the restraint he's shown lately. Seven frickin' days, and he hasn't said shit one about Jared knockin' boots with Chad. He thinks maybe that's because the very idea of his boyfriend getting horizontal with the douche Jared calls his best friend makes his brain hurt just a little bit. Still, he can't deny that he's curious. Too curious for his own good.
Seated at the island on a sunny Thursday morning, he slurps Capt'n Crunch and runs his hand over his disheveled, Sinful Crimson-tinted bed-head. He doesn't even really mean to ask, but when Jared comes wandering into the kitchen, it just kind of slips out. He blames it on the fact that Jared is twelve, possibly thirteen, feet of solid muscle and California tan. No man can be expected to control his thoughts and his tongue when that's strutting around the house in a threadbare pair of cargo shorts and nothing else.
“Who bottomed?” he asks in a distracted tone.
Jared looks over his shoulder, brow furrowed as he withdraws his coffee mug from the cabinet. “What are you talkin' about?” He loves Jensen, but sometimes the guy starts a conversation out loud when he's already half way through it in his head.
But Jensen just rolls his eyes and takes another sip of the cereal-sweetened milk in his bowl. “You and Chad, dumbass. I wanna know. Who bottomed?”
Him and Chad? “Jensen, it's too early,” he starts, pouring the coffee that he started before his shower. They were out until almost five, and now Jensen wants to know who fucking bottomed when he was with Chad? How does Jensen even know he was with Chad?
By the time his brain catches up with his mouth, it's too late to stop asking the questions. Jensen wants to know now, and the evasiveness is not okay. “Uh uh,” he shakes his head and stands from his stool to drop his bowl into the sink. And when did they get to be such neat freaks anyway? “Cough it up, Padalecki. Details. I want 'em.”
Jared just cocks his head like a confused puppy. “Details about what?” he demands, leaning heavily against the counter. If this is really the bizarro world he thinks it is, he's going to need to keep himself grounded.
“Last week, I asked you if you ever fucked Chad, and you said it was a long time ago.” Jensen speaks as though Jared is some simple child. “Now I can't get this shit outta my head,” he adds in frustration.
He's not trying to play dumb, but Jared honestly doesn't remember the conversation. It's not the first time, either. He's pretty sure he forgets half the conversations Jensen swears they've had before. “So you been walkin' around all week, thinkin' about me fuckin' Chad?” It makes Jared laugh because, well, who the fuck wants that image in their head for a week straight? He was there, and even he hasn't thought about it much since. Or, well, ever.
With a simple shrug, Jensen crosses to the refrigerator and pulls an energy drink out. How he drinks it right after all that milk, Jared doesn't know. It kinda makes his stomach hurt, actually. “You know how I get,” Jensen points out, popping the tab and downing a long gulp. “Ain't gonna let it go 'til you tell me.”
Jared does know. Once Jensen zeroes in on something, he can't let it go until his curiosity is fully sated. Which means Jared's going to have to tell him everything about that night. He knows Jensen well enough to know the older man will ask questions from every angle until he gets the answers he's looking for.
Maybe he can just cut to the chase? “It wasn't a big deal. There was alcohol involved. Lots of it,” he smirks and takes another long swallow of his coffee. “And it didn't mean a goddamn thing. You have nothing to worry about, okay?” Is that what Jensen is really getting at? What he really needs to know? Is he going to lose Jared to some idiot with a brain-filter issue somewhere down the line? Wouldn't be the first time someone misconstrued his relationship with Chad, after all.
Except that Jensen just huffs and rolls his eyes. “Please,” he drones. “You honestly think I'm worried about that shit? Come on, man,” he turns his body to face Jared at the kitchen counter and leans his hip into the granite surface. “It's fuckin' Chad, for fuck's sake.”
Shit. Well, now he's going to have to talk. “I didn't fuck him. He didn't fuck me. Nobody topped or bottomed or inserted anything anywhere,” he shudders at the idea of actually fucking Chad. Or letting Chad fuck him. Not that he's not a perfectly attractive guy or whatever, but . . . he's Chad.
“You said you guys fucked,” Jensen challenges.
“Well, then I lied,” Jared responds flatly, still more-than-a-little confused as to exactly when this true confession happened.
And, yeah, Jensen realizes that Jared was about ninety-three percent asleep when he grunted out the admission, so he can't really blame him for being confused. Still . . . maybe the kid should learn to keep his mouth shut when he's drifting off. “Alright, so you fucked around,” he concedes and Jared shrugs. “Dude,” he starts to remind the younger man that he's not going to drop the subject and Jared heaves a deep, frustrated, and possibly slightly annoyed sigh of resignation.
“Alright, fine. Three years ago, I scored an invite to a party at Slash's place,” he starts.
And Jensen interrupts with a gasp, his hand grabbing the waistband of Jared's shorts. “Slash?” he asks, eyes lighting up a little bit.
Jared just rolls his eyes. “Dude, you've met him, like, six times,” he points out. Since that night, he does the occasional piece for his rock idol, and Jensen's been to parties at the old GNR shredder's house on more than one occasion. Though, Jared can't deny, it's kind of awesome the way he ended up with a guy who's even more taken with Slash than he is.
Jensen wanders back to the island, plunks himself down on a stool and guzzles back a long gulp of his drink. With the help of a hand gesture, he says, “Go on.”

September, 2006
What had seemed like a perfectly noble idea at the time was turning into Jared's definition of Hell on Earth. He'd finally managed to score an invite to an honest-to-goodness Slash-thrown bash, and it was all he could do not to act like one of those goofy fangirls who came into the shop wanting lyrics and portraits of their favorite pop stars on indiscreet parts of their bodies. It was supposed to be the greatest night of his life.
He even found a hot-as-all-hell rock star-wannabe in tight-fitting jeans who seemed to be ready to leave whenever Jared said the word. And he was ready, to say the word, when he glanced around the room and noticed his drunken idiot of a best friend sprawled across one of the couches, laughing louder than anyone else in the room over whatever the chick next to him was saying.
For the third time this month, Sophia had broken up with Chad earlier in the day. Loudly. Swore that it was over for good this time and Chad could fuck himself if he so much as thought about trying to win her back. Even though she said the same thing every damn time, Jared could tell that it scared the shit out of his friend. It wasn't like Jared couldn't leave him to wallow in alcohol and his own self-pity for the night, but it seemed to him like a good friend would invite the guy along for a party at fucking Slash's house, ya know?
He hadn't seen much of the guy for most of the night. They weren't the kind of friends who needed to keep each other in their pockets or anything. Chad was a grown man, after all. He could look after himself. Besides, it wasn't as though they were looking for the same thing at parties like this.
“Party's dyin', man,” the guy next to him breathed against his ear and Jared's shoulders stiffened at the question he was about to ask. Dammit, Chad was going to pay.
With a nod, he turned his face just enough to make it clear that he was talking to his companion for the evening, eyes still glued to that damn couch. “That chick's not a,” he stopped and sucked his bottom lip in, if for no other reason than to swallow the chortle that was building in his gut. “That's a dude, isn't it?”
His partner for the night just nodded and let out a deep, “Yep.”
“Fuck all,” Jared groaned, pushing off the wall and turning. “Listen, man, give me your number, okay? I'm gonna kick myself for this later, but I gotta get him outta here.”
Number safely in his phone, Jared made his way across the room and hauled Chad to his feet. “Come on, Romeo,” he grunted under the dead weight that his friend was in his arms.
“You mind, fucker?” Chad slurred, body leaning heavily into Jared’s side. “Talkin’ to the lady here,” he insisted.
“I don’t mind,” Jared answered with a growl as he started pulling Chad away. “You can thank me in the morning.” A part of him really fucking wanted to leave Chad there, to see how his friend would handle waking up with a strange man in the morning. The slightly-less-sadistic side prompted him to take the man home and throw him into bed.
Chad was still bitching when they reached the driveway. “You owe me a motherfucking orgasm, bitch!” he said over the hood of the truck as Jared circled to his side and yanked his door open.
“What?” With a curt nod, he added, “Get in the fucking car, dumbass.”
Though he did what he was told, Chad just kept right on talking. “Dude, you totally cock-blocked me back there!”
Jared eased his car onto the residential street and rolled his eyes under cloak of darkness. “Alright, fine,” he said. “When we get home, I will give you a toe-curling, earth-shattering orgasm. Deal?”
“Ew,” Chad protested, nose scrunching with the word. “I know you want me and all, Jay, but come on, man. You’re a dude.”
The irony of that statement, combined with the entire night’s turn of events made Jared want to laugh. It also made him want to punch Chad in the mouth. Between the two emotions, he decided on keeping his mouth shut for the rest of the drive home.
*-*
By the time they made it into the house, Chad had moved from belligerent to downright depressing.
“Says I’m not serious enough for her. Like ’sall some big fucking joke to me.” He rested his head on Jared’s shoulder and it was all Jared could do to get inside the apartment before one of their neighbors came out to find them wrapped around each other. “s'notta joke, Jay,” he insisted. “I. Love. Her. Man.”
Jared ‘oomph’ed and nearly stumbled as they maneuvered the curb. “Dude, you gotta pick up your feet,” he gritted through clenched teeth. If Chad didn't pass out from alcohol poisoning as soon as they got inside, Jared was going to be shocked. And possibly slightly impressed.
“Wanna make babies with her,” Chad went on and Jared rolled his eyes on principle alone as he manhandled the guy against the outer wall of the building, pinning him there as best he could with one knee while fumbling for the key. “’Cause you gotta fuck to make babies, man.”
“I’ve heard that,” Jared tossed over his shoulder as he felt the lock give, finally. “Come on, man,” he added, arms around his friend again as he heaved him into the darkened interior of the apartment.
Chad’s face was way, way too close when he said, “I like fucking.” He laughed and the bitter scent of whatever over-priced alcohol he’d been guzzling all night fanned over Jared’s face. It was all he can do not to gag. Especially when Chad said, “’m horny, Jay.”
Great. Just fucking great. Horny, drunk, and unable to walk. Jared’s least favorite combination in the world. “Dude, you’re gonna,” he started to chastise as Chad swayed against him, but before he could get the words out, the momentum shifted, and his balance was chasing Chad to the floor.
With a ‘thud,’ they landed in a pile of limbs on the carpet, Jared cursing and scrambling to get away while Chad leaned his head back and threw his arms out to his sides. “’s nice,” he purred. Actually fuckn’ purred and ran his arms over the carpet beneath him, like some club kid on an acid trip or some shit.
“Motherfuckin’ son of a,” Jared was still grumbling, cursing Chad and everything else that popped into his head as his friend’s legs flailed around him. If Jared didn’t know any better, he’d have thought that Chad was attempting some sort of rhythmless dry hump. But that was crazy.
He stilled completely, fighting through everything that had already happened that night, and managed to get his arms on either side of Chad’s head. Pushing himself up, he froze again when he realized that Chad’s hips were rotating in to him. And he was hard. Chad was fucking hard and trying to hump Jared, from underneath him.
“Oh, fuckin’ hell,” Jared groaned, but realized that any way he moved was just going to cause friction he was not interested in causing. “Chad, dude, come on,” he protested, hand reaching out to hold Chad’s hip still.
“We’ll get there,” Chad breathed, eyes tightly closed as he swung his own arm around to pull at Jared’s ass until his friend collapsed on top of him.
“The fuck are you doing?” Jared tried again, hoping that Chad maybe somehow gained consciousness in the last few seconds.
But Chad said nothing, only moved from rotating to thrusting his hips until it was pretty damn obvious what the fuck he was doing. And if that wasn't weird enough, Chad started moaning. Fucking moaning. With his head tipped back and shit.
It's not like Jared couldn't move. He absolutely could have gotten up and told Chad to go jerk himself off in his own room. But when Chad's hard cock rubbed through his jeans against Jared's, he just . . . he didn't move.
It was Chad, for fuck's sake. He had no business being hard with Chad, but something was . . . happening. His body, apparently, decided that it didn't care who the dick in question was attached to. As long as it was bumping and grinding with Jared's, it was worthy. Jared's body, he thought, was a treacherous whore.
A good friend would take note of the fact that Chad was drunker than fuck and not at all in the head space to be fucked with. A good friend would stop this shit before it ever started. A good friend would not be ready to bust the fuck out of his own jeans if Chad didn't fucking stop writhing under him.
By the time Jared realized his own hips were moving back against Chads, and that his hands were holding the other man's fast against the floor, it was kind of too late to stop the momentum. He probably could have stopped, but dammit if it didn't feel just good enough to numb his brain to could have's and should have's.
He chalked it up to distraction, the way Chad managed to roll on top and fumble out of his jeans. “Skin,” was Chad's only coherent word as he yanked Jared's pants open.
Jared – accidentally, he told himself - raised his hips to help Chad push the soft leather down past Jared's ass. He felt cold and exposed, and awash with another wave of 'so fucking wrong.' And then the heated wetness of Chad's cock was sliding into the dent of his hip muscles and Jared's sense of morality melted right out of his ear.
It wasn't some big, life-altering, love connection by any stretch of the imagination. Chad was drunk off his ass and Jared was just tipsy enough not to have a conscience. Chad was dealing with issues so much bigger than this, and Jared was just being a good friend. Yeah, that was it. Because best friends always got trashed and jerked each other off to get over a bad break up. Didn't they?
They didn't really touch each other – groins notwithstanding – and they definitely weren't whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears or anything. In fact, other than the occasional hiss, or grunt, or obligatory curse, they didn't make a hell of a lot of noise at all. Kind of like they could pretend it wasn't happening if they didn't have to communicate.
Chad did say something when he came all over Jared's hip, but Jared just chose to ignore it in favor of following his friend over the edge. And when it was all over, they lay side-by-side on the floor, staring at the ceiling.
“Dude,” Chad broke the silence first, rolling his head to the side. “You need to get laid, man. Cause I'm a good friend and all, but this shit? Ain't never happenin' again.”

“When was this?”
Jared doesn't even have to think about the answer to Jensen's question. “Two days before I met you.” When Jensen's eyes widen in surprise, Jared has to smile. “Soph took him back the day after we,” he makes a vague gesture with his large hand, and then says, “and then I met you. Issue never came up again.”
“Never?”
Jared rolls his eyes at Jensen and sets his empty coffee cup into the sink before crossing his thick arms over his chest. “No,” he answers definitively. “A world of abso-fucking-lutely never,” he shudders again and shakes his head.
For a minute, Jensen's eerily quiet, and then he stands from his stool and crosses to the trash can at the end of the island. “Alright then,” he says as he drops his empty drink and brushes his hands together. “Thanks,” he adds with a wink.
But even as the older man turns to leave the kitchen, something is bothering Jared. “That's it?” he asks.
Jensen turns and raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“That's it?” Jared repeats himself, shoulders stiffening in alarm. “No questions? No clarification? Nothing I left out that you just have to know?” Jensen's way too analytical to just let this shit go. Oh, he can ignore the big things, like Jared's past, or any and all talk about Brayden. But when it comes to something as minimal as 'the time Jared fucked around with his best friend'? No way he lets it go without at least one question.
Jensen rests against the kitchen door frame, one ankle crossed over the other with his hands on his waist. His bright red hair sticks out in all directions and he nibbles his bottom lip as though deciding whether or not he actually wants to ask something. When he raises a finger, Jared smiles. “Just one thing.”
It's not the fact that Jensen wants to know more that makes Jared's stomach drop like a rock. It's the amusement dancing in those mossy eyes. The humor and the laughter just waiting to explode from his chest. Fuck. “What?” he asks hesitantly.
“What'd he say?” Jensen's lips curve into a full-on smirk. “You said Chad said something when he came. What was it?”
Double fuck. Jared doesn't get embarrassed easily, but if there is one detail of the story he should have left out for his own self-preservation? This is it. Of course, he could just make something up, but he and Jensen have a long-standing rule of not lying in the face of a direct question. At least, to each other.
Stepping into his personal space, Jensen grabs Jared's chin and pulls his face up until his boyfriend has no choice but to meet his eye. “What was that?” he asks.
With another roll of his eyes, Jared sets his jaw defiantly and speaks more clearly. “Called me Soph, okay? Don't remember his exact words, but I know he called me Soph.”
Silence looms between them for what seems like an eternity. And it's shattered by Jensen's uproarious laughter. Seriously. Guffawing. Doubling over and clutching his knees to gasp for air. Laughter that racks his chest and steals his breath. The kind where you open your mouth and no sound comes out.
Jared's only response is to roll his eyes and leave the room. When Jensen recovers, he calls out, “Maybe it's the hair. You got girlie hair!” And then he collapses into another fit of raging laughter.
Jared doesn't think it's worth pointing out that Jensen has a bathroom full of cosmetics and hair dye that would make most of the girls they know jealous. Instead he just pops his head back around the corner of the kitchen and glares. “I hate you,” he intones.
Jensen nods and wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. “That's transferrence, man. You hate yourself for being a giant girl,” he corrects and then points to his own chest. “Me? You love.”
The bitch of it is that, even when he's laughing himself stupid at Jared's expense? Jensen's right.
Author:
Rating: R (for language and minor sexual situations)
Pairings: Jared/Jensen; Jared/Chad (Yeah, I know)
Warnings: Jared/Chad ('nuff said)
Word Count: 3500 (or so)
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. I don't claim any of this as reality. And once you're done reading it, you'll know that for yourself.
Summary: So a week ago, Jared let slip that something might have happened once upon a time between him and Chad. Jensen doesn't know why he really wants to know, but he really wants to know what went down that night. Part of the disclaimer!verse.
A/N: I just want to say, right up front, that I know this installment of the 'verse is not going to be everyone's cup of tea. The idea of Jared and Chad together really doesn't do it for some people, and I get that. I'm usually one of those people, too. But this is one of the ideas I've had for a OneShot from WAY back in the beginning of the original story. So I wrote it, and I kind of love it a lot. I hope you do, too.
Also, thanks go to my beta
Jensen thinks he deserves a goddamn medal for the restraint he's shown lately. Seven frickin' days, and he hasn't said shit one about Jared knockin' boots with Chad. He thinks maybe that's because the very idea of his boyfriend getting horizontal with the douche Jared calls his best friend makes his brain hurt just a little bit. Still, he can't deny that he's curious. Too curious for his own good.
Seated at the island on a sunny Thursday morning, he slurps Capt'n Crunch and runs his hand over his disheveled, Sinful Crimson-tinted bed-head. He doesn't even really mean to ask, but when Jared comes wandering into the kitchen, it just kind of slips out. He blames it on the fact that Jared is twelve, possibly thirteen, feet of solid muscle and California tan. No man can be expected to control his thoughts and his tongue when that's strutting around the house in a threadbare pair of cargo shorts and nothing else.
“Who bottomed?” he asks in a distracted tone.
Jared looks over his shoulder, brow furrowed as he withdraws his coffee mug from the cabinet. “What are you talkin' about?” He loves Jensen, but sometimes the guy starts a conversation out loud when he's already half way through it in his head.
But Jensen just rolls his eyes and takes another sip of the cereal-sweetened milk in his bowl. “You and Chad, dumbass. I wanna know. Who bottomed?”
Him and Chad? “Jensen, it's too early,” he starts, pouring the coffee that he started before his shower. They were out until almost five, and now Jensen wants to know who fucking bottomed when he was with Chad? How does Jensen even know he was with Chad?
By the time his brain catches up with his mouth, it's too late to stop asking the questions. Jensen wants to know now, and the evasiveness is not okay. “Uh uh,” he shakes his head and stands from his stool to drop his bowl into the sink. And when did they get to be such neat freaks anyway? “Cough it up, Padalecki. Details. I want 'em.”
Jared just cocks his head like a confused puppy. “Details about what?” he demands, leaning heavily against the counter. If this is really the bizarro world he thinks it is, he's going to need to keep himself grounded.
“Last week, I asked you if you ever fucked Chad, and you said it was a long time ago.” Jensen speaks as though Jared is some simple child. “Now I can't get this shit outta my head,” he adds in frustration.
He's not trying to play dumb, but Jared honestly doesn't remember the conversation. It's not the first time, either. He's pretty sure he forgets half the conversations Jensen swears they've had before. “So you been walkin' around all week, thinkin' about me fuckin' Chad?” It makes Jared laugh because, well, who the fuck wants that image in their head for a week straight? He was there, and even he hasn't thought about it much since. Or, well, ever.
With a simple shrug, Jensen crosses to the refrigerator and pulls an energy drink out. How he drinks it right after all that milk, Jared doesn't know. It kinda makes his stomach hurt, actually. “You know how I get,” Jensen points out, popping the tab and downing a long gulp. “Ain't gonna let it go 'til you tell me.”
Jared does know. Once Jensen zeroes in on something, he can't let it go until his curiosity is fully sated. Which means Jared's going to have to tell him everything about that night. He knows Jensen well enough to know the older man will ask questions from every angle until he gets the answers he's looking for.
Maybe he can just cut to the chase? “It wasn't a big deal. There was alcohol involved. Lots of it,” he smirks and takes another long swallow of his coffee. “And it didn't mean a goddamn thing. You have nothing to worry about, okay?” Is that what Jensen is really getting at? What he really needs to know? Is he going to lose Jared to some idiot with a brain-filter issue somewhere down the line? Wouldn't be the first time someone misconstrued his relationship with Chad, after all.
Except that Jensen just huffs and rolls his eyes. “Please,” he drones. “You honestly think I'm worried about that shit? Come on, man,” he turns his body to face Jared at the kitchen counter and leans his hip into the granite surface. “It's fuckin' Chad, for fuck's sake.”
Shit. Well, now he's going to have to talk. “I didn't fuck him. He didn't fuck me. Nobody topped or bottomed or inserted anything anywhere,” he shudders at the idea of actually fucking Chad. Or letting Chad fuck him. Not that he's not a perfectly attractive guy or whatever, but . . . he's Chad.
“You said you guys fucked,” Jensen challenges.
“Well, then I lied,” Jared responds flatly, still more-than-a-little confused as to exactly when this true confession happened.
And, yeah, Jensen realizes that Jared was about ninety-three percent asleep when he grunted out the admission, so he can't really blame him for being confused. Still . . . maybe the kid should learn to keep his mouth shut when he's drifting off. “Alright, so you fucked around,” he concedes and Jared shrugs. “Dude,” he starts to remind the younger man that he's not going to drop the subject and Jared heaves a deep, frustrated, and possibly slightly annoyed sigh of resignation.
“Alright, fine. Three years ago, I scored an invite to a party at Slash's place,” he starts.
And Jensen interrupts with a gasp, his hand grabbing the waistband of Jared's shorts. “Slash?” he asks, eyes lighting up a little bit.
Jared just rolls his eyes. “Dude, you've met him, like, six times,” he points out. Since that night, he does the occasional piece for his rock idol, and Jensen's been to parties at the old GNR shredder's house on more than one occasion. Though, Jared can't deny, it's kind of awesome the way he ended up with a guy who's even more taken with Slash than he is.
Jensen wanders back to the island, plunks himself down on a stool and guzzles back a long gulp of his drink. With the help of a hand gesture, he says, “Go on.”

September, 2006
What had seemed like a perfectly noble idea at the time was turning into Jared's definition of Hell on Earth. He'd finally managed to score an invite to an honest-to-goodness Slash-thrown bash, and it was all he could do not to act like one of those goofy fangirls who came into the shop wanting lyrics and portraits of their favorite pop stars on indiscreet parts of their bodies. It was supposed to be the greatest night of his life.
He even found a hot-as-all-hell rock star-wannabe in tight-fitting jeans who seemed to be ready to leave whenever Jared said the word. And he was ready, to say the word, when he glanced around the room and noticed his drunken idiot of a best friend sprawled across one of the couches, laughing louder than anyone else in the room over whatever the chick next to him was saying.
For the third time this month, Sophia had broken up with Chad earlier in the day. Loudly. Swore that it was over for good this time and Chad could fuck himself if he so much as thought about trying to win her back. Even though she said the same thing every damn time, Jared could tell that it scared the shit out of his friend. It wasn't like Jared couldn't leave him to wallow in alcohol and his own self-pity for the night, but it seemed to him like a good friend would invite the guy along for a party at fucking Slash's house, ya know?
He hadn't seen much of the guy for most of the night. They weren't the kind of friends who needed to keep each other in their pockets or anything. Chad was a grown man, after all. He could look after himself. Besides, it wasn't as though they were looking for the same thing at parties like this.
“Party's dyin', man,” the guy next to him breathed against his ear and Jared's shoulders stiffened at the question he was about to ask. Dammit, Chad was going to pay.
With a nod, he turned his face just enough to make it clear that he was talking to his companion for the evening, eyes still glued to that damn couch. “That chick's not a,” he stopped and sucked his bottom lip in, if for no other reason than to swallow the chortle that was building in his gut. “That's a dude, isn't it?”
His partner for the night just nodded and let out a deep, “Yep.”
“Fuck all,” Jared groaned, pushing off the wall and turning. “Listen, man, give me your number, okay? I'm gonna kick myself for this later, but I gotta get him outta here.”
Number safely in his phone, Jared made his way across the room and hauled Chad to his feet. “Come on, Romeo,” he grunted under the dead weight that his friend was in his arms.
“You mind, fucker?” Chad slurred, body leaning heavily into Jared’s side. “Talkin’ to the lady here,” he insisted.
“I don’t mind,” Jared answered with a growl as he started pulling Chad away. “You can thank me in the morning.” A part of him really fucking wanted to leave Chad there, to see how his friend would handle waking up with a strange man in the morning. The slightly-less-sadistic side prompted him to take the man home and throw him into bed.
Chad was still bitching when they reached the driveway. “You owe me a motherfucking orgasm, bitch!” he said over the hood of the truck as Jared circled to his side and yanked his door open.
“What?” With a curt nod, he added, “Get in the fucking car, dumbass.”
Though he did what he was told, Chad just kept right on talking. “Dude, you totally cock-blocked me back there!”
Jared eased his car onto the residential street and rolled his eyes under cloak of darkness. “Alright, fine,” he said. “When we get home, I will give you a toe-curling, earth-shattering orgasm. Deal?”
“Ew,” Chad protested, nose scrunching with the word. “I know you want me and all, Jay, but come on, man. You’re a dude.”
The irony of that statement, combined with the entire night’s turn of events made Jared want to laugh. It also made him want to punch Chad in the mouth. Between the two emotions, he decided on keeping his mouth shut for the rest of the drive home.
By the time they made it into the house, Chad had moved from belligerent to downright depressing.
“Says I’m not serious enough for her. Like ’sall some big fucking joke to me.” He rested his head on Jared’s shoulder and it was all Jared could do to get inside the apartment before one of their neighbors came out to find them wrapped around each other. “s'notta joke, Jay,” he insisted. “I. Love. Her. Man.”
Jared ‘oomph’ed and nearly stumbled as they maneuvered the curb. “Dude, you gotta pick up your feet,” he gritted through clenched teeth. If Chad didn't pass out from alcohol poisoning as soon as they got inside, Jared was going to be shocked. And possibly slightly impressed.
“Wanna make babies with her,” Chad went on and Jared rolled his eyes on principle alone as he manhandled the guy against the outer wall of the building, pinning him there as best he could with one knee while fumbling for the key. “’Cause you gotta fuck to make babies, man.”
“I’ve heard that,” Jared tossed over his shoulder as he felt the lock give, finally. “Come on, man,” he added, arms around his friend again as he heaved him into the darkened interior of the apartment.
Chad’s face was way, way too close when he said, “I like fucking.” He laughed and the bitter scent of whatever over-priced alcohol he’d been guzzling all night fanned over Jared’s face. It was all he can do not to gag. Especially when Chad said, “’m horny, Jay.”
Great. Just fucking great. Horny, drunk, and unable to walk. Jared’s least favorite combination in the world. “Dude, you’re gonna,” he started to chastise as Chad swayed against him, but before he could get the words out, the momentum shifted, and his balance was chasing Chad to the floor.
With a ‘thud,’ they landed in a pile of limbs on the carpet, Jared cursing and scrambling to get away while Chad leaned his head back and threw his arms out to his sides. “’s nice,” he purred. Actually fuckn’ purred and ran his arms over the carpet beneath him, like some club kid on an acid trip or some shit.
“Motherfuckin’ son of a,” Jared was still grumbling, cursing Chad and everything else that popped into his head as his friend’s legs flailed around him. If Jared didn’t know any better, he’d have thought that Chad was attempting some sort of rhythmless dry hump. But that was crazy.
He stilled completely, fighting through everything that had already happened that night, and managed to get his arms on either side of Chad’s head. Pushing himself up, he froze again when he realized that Chad’s hips were rotating in to him. And he was hard. Chad was fucking hard and trying to hump Jared, from underneath him.
“Oh, fuckin’ hell,” Jared groaned, but realized that any way he moved was just going to cause friction he was not interested in causing. “Chad, dude, come on,” he protested, hand reaching out to hold Chad’s hip still.
“We’ll get there,” Chad breathed, eyes tightly closed as he swung his own arm around to pull at Jared’s ass until his friend collapsed on top of him.
“The fuck are you doing?” Jared tried again, hoping that Chad maybe somehow gained consciousness in the last few seconds.
But Chad said nothing, only moved from rotating to thrusting his hips until it was pretty damn obvious what the fuck he was doing. And if that wasn't weird enough, Chad started moaning. Fucking moaning. With his head tipped back and shit.
It's not like Jared couldn't move. He absolutely could have gotten up and told Chad to go jerk himself off in his own room. But when Chad's hard cock rubbed through his jeans against Jared's, he just . . . he didn't move.
It was Chad, for fuck's sake. He had no business being hard with Chad, but something was . . . happening. His body, apparently, decided that it didn't care who the dick in question was attached to. As long as it was bumping and grinding with Jared's, it was worthy. Jared's body, he thought, was a treacherous whore.
A good friend would take note of the fact that Chad was drunker than fuck and not at all in the head space to be fucked with. A good friend would stop this shit before it ever started. A good friend would not be ready to bust the fuck out of his own jeans if Chad didn't fucking stop writhing under him.
By the time Jared realized his own hips were moving back against Chads, and that his hands were holding the other man's fast against the floor, it was kind of too late to stop the momentum. He probably could have stopped, but dammit if it didn't feel just good enough to numb his brain to could have's and should have's.
He chalked it up to distraction, the way Chad managed to roll on top and fumble out of his jeans. “Skin,” was Chad's only coherent word as he yanked Jared's pants open.
Jared – accidentally, he told himself - raised his hips to help Chad push the soft leather down past Jared's ass. He felt cold and exposed, and awash with another wave of 'so fucking wrong.' And then the heated wetness of Chad's cock was sliding into the dent of his hip muscles and Jared's sense of morality melted right out of his ear.
It wasn't some big, life-altering, love connection by any stretch of the imagination. Chad was drunk off his ass and Jared was just tipsy enough not to have a conscience. Chad was dealing with issues so much bigger than this, and Jared was just being a good friend. Yeah, that was it. Because best friends always got trashed and jerked each other off to get over a bad break up. Didn't they?
They didn't really touch each other – groins notwithstanding – and they definitely weren't whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears or anything. In fact, other than the occasional hiss, or grunt, or obligatory curse, they didn't make a hell of a lot of noise at all. Kind of like they could pretend it wasn't happening if they didn't have to communicate.
Chad did say something when he came all over Jared's hip, but Jared just chose to ignore it in favor of following his friend over the edge. And when it was all over, they lay side-by-side on the floor, staring at the ceiling.
“Dude,” Chad broke the silence first, rolling his head to the side. “You need to get laid, man. Cause I'm a good friend and all, but this shit? Ain't never happenin' again.”

“When was this?”
Jared doesn't even have to think about the answer to Jensen's question. “Two days before I met you.” When Jensen's eyes widen in surprise, Jared has to smile. “Soph took him back the day after we,” he makes a vague gesture with his large hand, and then says, “and then I met you. Issue never came up again.”
“Never?”
Jared rolls his eyes at Jensen and sets his empty coffee cup into the sink before crossing his thick arms over his chest. “No,” he answers definitively. “A world of abso-fucking-lutely never,” he shudders again and shakes his head.
For a minute, Jensen's eerily quiet, and then he stands from his stool and crosses to the trash can at the end of the island. “Alright then,” he says as he drops his empty drink and brushes his hands together. “Thanks,” he adds with a wink.
But even as the older man turns to leave the kitchen, something is bothering Jared. “That's it?” he asks.
Jensen turns and raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“That's it?” Jared repeats himself, shoulders stiffening in alarm. “No questions? No clarification? Nothing I left out that you just have to know?” Jensen's way too analytical to just let this shit go. Oh, he can ignore the big things, like Jared's past, or any and all talk about Brayden. But when it comes to something as minimal as 'the time Jared fucked around with his best friend'? No way he lets it go without at least one question.
Jensen rests against the kitchen door frame, one ankle crossed over the other with his hands on his waist. His bright red hair sticks out in all directions and he nibbles his bottom lip as though deciding whether or not he actually wants to ask something. When he raises a finger, Jared smiles. “Just one thing.”
It's not the fact that Jensen wants to know more that makes Jared's stomach drop like a rock. It's the amusement dancing in those mossy eyes. The humor and the laughter just waiting to explode from his chest. Fuck. “What?” he asks hesitantly.
“What'd he say?” Jensen's lips curve into a full-on smirk. “You said Chad said something when he came. What was it?”
Double fuck. Jared doesn't get embarrassed easily, but if there is one detail of the story he should have left out for his own self-preservation? This is it. Of course, he could just make something up, but he and Jensen have a long-standing rule of not lying in the face of a direct question. At least, to each other.
Stepping into his personal space, Jensen grabs Jared's chin and pulls his face up until his boyfriend has no choice but to meet his eye. “What was that?” he asks.
With another roll of his eyes, Jared sets his jaw defiantly and speaks more clearly. “Called me Soph, okay? Don't remember his exact words, but I know he called me Soph.”
Silence looms between them for what seems like an eternity. And it's shattered by Jensen's uproarious laughter. Seriously. Guffawing. Doubling over and clutching his knees to gasp for air. Laughter that racks his chest and steals his breath. The kind where you open your mouth and no sound comes out.
Jared's only response is to roll his eyes and leave the room. When Jensen recovers, he calls out, “Maybe it's the hair. You got girlie hair!” And then he collapses into another fit of raging laughter.
Jared doesn't think it's worth pointing out that Jensen has a bathroom full of cosmetics and hair dye that would make most of the girls they know jealous. Instead he just pops his head back around the corner of the kitchen and glares. “I hate you,” he intones.
Jensen nods and wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. “That's transferrence, man. You hate yourself for being a giant girl,” he corrects and then points to his own chest. “Me? You love.”
The bitch of it is that, even when he's laughing himself stupid at Jared's expense? Jensen's right.
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Date: 2009-10-16 03:53 am (UTC)It's kind of embarrassing ;)
This was gorgeous, in a really hilarious kind of way XD
♥ Maria ♥
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Date: 2009-10-16 04:09 am (UTC)And I'm so glad that you liked the story - I was so freaked about writing Jared and Chad!
Thank you so much!
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Date: 2009-10-16 04:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-16 04:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-16 04:24 am (UTC)I know how nervous you were because...dude. Chad. and Jared?! hahaha but it really truly is a genius addition to this incredible 'verse you've crafted, my sweet!
I think my favorite part of the whole thing was just the sheer randomness of it all! Fucking awesome work, and I shall hunt you down and pump you full of rock salt should you EVER stop writing in this 'verse. *firm nod*
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Date: 2009-10-16 04:27 am (UTC)Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm pretty sure nobody knew better than you just how freaked out I was in posting it. Your support means the world to me, and I hope you know that!
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Date: 2009-10-16 05:06 am (UTC)I love it, especially the last two lines~
♥
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Date: 2009-10-16 05:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-10-16 05:10 am (UTC)WIN. As usual. I love Jensen's reaction, he pushed, he got what he wanted, and he let it go. What a great guy. :)
And lol don't worry, I won't really go become a tattoo artist and live on the streets, I like my internet far too much. :D
*more flail*
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Date: 2009-10-16 05:20 am (UTC)And thanks - I'm really glad you enjoyed the story!
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Date: 2009-10-16 11:01 am (UTC)xx
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Date: 2009-10-16 04:10 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-10-16 02:39 pm (UTC)I loved it.. cute chapter... ^_^
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Date: 2009-10-16 09:25 pm (UTC)Seriously? Thanks! I'm glad you liked it.
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Date: 2009-10-16 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-10-17 02:14 am (UTC)this is like the most awesomest of verses
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Date: 2009-10-17 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-17 07:30 am (UTC)But I was pleasantly surprised! This was really great. I love the entire disclaimer!verse and the way you write your Jared and Jensen: pure, no-bullshit, alpha males. And the picture in my head of a muscle-packed, tattooed Jared wandering around the house with only cargo shorts...well, 'nuff said.
Well done :)
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Date: 2009-10-17 01:30 pm (UTC)Thank you so much! It's funny - my boyfriend told me that I was going to have some people that were like, 'Jared and Chad?" But then he assured me that they would read anyway and enjoy. I think he's biased. But I'm glad you gave it a shot! I take it as pretty high praise that you would give it a shot anyway!
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Date: 2010-11-19 12:58 am (UTC)http://audiofic.jinjurly.com/so-thats-what-friends-are-for
:-)
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Date: 2011-03-17 02:25 pm (UTC)