Banner by smut_slut
Title: Doctor Patient Confidentiality Ch.01
Please see Master Post
for fic details.
ladyrhyanne & crynintherain
“I don’t need to be here,” Jared says confidently to the weepy looking woman sitting next to him.
It’s true. He doesn’t need to be here. Really. His parents are just taking this whole ‘I’m gay’ thing the wrong way. They think he’s confused and if he talks it out he’ll “get better”.
He reads the name plaque on the door leading to the shrink’s office. What the fuck kind of name was Ackles anyway? And really? Jensen? The guy was probably a total tool.
Jared looks up as the door opens and a twitchy looking guy comes out. Jared rolls his eyes. This is all so stupid. He’s not a bipolar nut job or a hearing-voices-in-his-head schizoid. He didn’t have OCD or ADD or any other acronym. He just likes cock; long, thick, hard cocks. Oh, and asses; nice, tight, firm, round asses. Nothing crazy about that.
“Mr. Padalecki, Dr. Ackles is ready for you,” the secretary, Danneel, according to the nameplate on her desk, says smiling sweetly.
Jared rises to his impressive height and swaggers over to the open door. He’s completely unprepared for the sight greeting him. Dr. Ackles is...God, he’s beautiful. Jared doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more perfect beautiful specimen of a man, aside from himself, in all his seventeen years. Dr. Ackles is tall, though not as tall as Jared, but then few people were, has broad shoulders, an muscular chest if Jared is any expert, and he is just by the way his crisp dress shirt flexes over his body, and he’s delightfully bow legged. Jared tries not to think about how his Dr. got so bow-legged or the fact that Jared could probably make him even more bow-legged. What is most striking about Dr. Ackles are his eyes, beautiful clear green Jared thinks they belong in a museum jewel case they’re so clear and bright. Then Jared’s gaze falls on, he swallows hard and his heart speeds up pushing his blood south, Dr. Ackles’ lips. They are perfect, full, soft looking suck-my-cock lips.
Dr. Ackles begins and Jared thinks he’s either died and gone to heaven or he just might come in his pants because, God, that voice! It’s low and rough. If sex had a voice it would sound like Dr. Ackles.
“Name’s Jared, dude,” Jared says his own voice dropping an octave, lust evident.
Just as Jared thinks Dr. Ackles can’t get any more perfect, his cocksucking lips part over perfect straight white teeth in an easy smile.
“All right, Jared then. Please, sit,” Dr. Ackles says motioning to a seat adjacent to his desk.
“Dude, I’ve been sitting in the waiting room for, like, ever. Legs need a,” Jared pauses and looks Dr. Ackles up and down, “stretch.”
Dr. Ackles nods and gives his easy smile. Dr. Ackles takes a seat behind his desk crossing one ankle over his knee and looking at Jared’s file.
“I don’t need to be here,” Jared says again.
Dr. Ackles looks at his patient with bright interest. “Then why are you?”
“Folks can’t handle the fact that their six foot four baby boy is a cocksucker.”
Dr. Ackles inclines his head and his brows come together in a slight frown. “Is that what they call you?”
Jared scoffs and walks over to the packed bookcases lining the back wall of Dr. Ackles’ office. “No, they just call me a “confused young man”. I wasn’t confused when I was twelve and I let Justin suck my dick. I wasn’t confused when I fucked Chad up the ass. I’m gay. I have no issues with it. They do,” Jared finishes voice tinged with anger and resentment
Dr. Ackles held his chin between his thumb and forefinger and looked at the young man. “How does that make you feel?” Jensen asks lowering his pen to his pad and preparing to make notes.
Jared feels tremors race all through him as Jensen speaks. He would love to hear Dr. Ackles’s voice raw and sex-drenched. Jared closes his eyes, briefly imagining Jensen bent over the desk, screaming for his cock.
“Jared?” Dr. Ackles asks softly, drawing Jared from his lusty thoughts.
Jared’s eyes open he groans, feeling his dick hard and heavy between his thighs. He knows Dr. Ackles asked him a question, knows he is supposed to answer. He turns his head and looks over his shoulder at Dr. Ackles. Bad idea. His cock gives a painful throb at the sight of his beautiful doctor.
“Huh?” Jared asks and turns away, trying to pretend like he’s interested in the thick books on Dr. Ackles’s shelves.
“How does it make you feel that your parents don’t accept you?”
Jared scowls, happy hard on wilting. He sighs heavily, runs a hand through his hair, and turns to face the doctor. “No,” he says simple and stern.
Dr. Ackles’s brows knit together in a soft puzzled frown. “I’m sorry?” He says
“I’m not doing this with you.” But there are so many other things I wanna do with you…and to you, Jared thinks. “I don’t need to be here. I’ll come cuz the folks are footin’ the bill, but I am not gonna let you head shrink me.”
Dr. Ackles rolls his lips into his mouth, and nods. “Fair enough.” He drops his pad and pen and removes his glasses, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose. When he opens his eyes again Jared feels his blood rushing to his dick again and sits down on the couch, crossing his ankle on his knee, to hide his arousal.
He swallows hard as Dr. Ackles gets up and walks over to him coming to a stop in front of him looking down at him with those beautiful clear, green eyes. “But you’re going through a hard time right now. I’m here if and when you do decide to talk.” He lays a friendly, casual, heavy hand on Jared’s shoulder. “Okay?”
Jared tilts his head to the side pinning Jensen with his eyes. He licks his lips and arches a brow. “You have no idea how hard,” Jared says voice thick with lust.
Dr. Ackles pulls his hand away like Jared scalded him and turns away quickly walking back over to his desk and sits in his chair. His fingers close around his glasses, he cleans them, slowly carefully, before slipping them on and finally, but not quite looking over at Jared.
The remainder of the hour goes by with Jared telling the doctor about school, his friends, basically his life, but when Dr. Ackles tries to bring the conversation around to Jared’s family Jared clams up, or changes the subject. But as he looks at the reserved doctor, Jared sends up a silent prayer of thanks to his ignorant parents for sending him here.
Jensen waited a full five minutes after his office door clicked closed, taking a very agitated Jared Padalecki with it, before he let himself relax into his chair, letting his legs stretch out beneath his desk and laced his fingers behind his head.
Good Christ what was he supposed to do with the kid?
He knew what Mr. and Mrs. Padalecki were hoping he would be able to do, “fix” their son. Find the fabled switch in Jared’s head and flip it from gay to straight but there was no such switch and frankly he was getting tired of over zealous parents sending their gay children to him to “fix”. How in the hell was he supposed to fix a problem when he obviously didn’t believe there was a problem to begin with? After all, it would be kind of hypocritical of him to preach to a gay child about how wrong it was to be gay when he, himself was.
Most of the time, he just called the parents into his office and had a heart to heart with them. He was never stupid enough to admit to being gay to a couple of homophobic parents but he would patiently explain it to them that they had a conflict of interest, that he found nothing wrong with someone being gay and therefore he wouldn’t be able to help them or their child. Occasionally, there were rumblings, accusations of him being gay, but once he assured them that they would be getting their fee back they generally went on their way very little fanfare. Those that didn’t, that threatened to go to the licensing board and the police, even after they had their homophobic hands back on their check, he would hand them the information for the head of the licensing board and showed them to the door. So far, the occasional threat had been nothing more than hot, angry blustering. If it ever became more, he could only hope that his track record and the families that he had help would be enough to convince the board and investigators of any kind that he was nothing but a professional.
But, occasionally, there was a kid that came through that was angry, like Jared, that he couldn’t turn away. Angry at his or her family, angry at the world, just angry at the unfairness of it all. He couldn’t “fix” them the way their parents wanted but he could help those kids deal with their feelings. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, share anything about himself but he could lend an ear, let them spew out their anger and help them find a better way of dealing with it all. So far, he was proud to say that, as far as he knew and as ghoulish as it sounded, he obsessively checked the obituaries daily, none of those patients that showed up angry and hurt in his office lost all hope and ended it all.
Jared Padalecki shouldn’t be an exception. Only he kind of was and Jensen was both disgusted with himself and proud that he wasn’t so far into his denial that he couldn’t admit it to himself. For the first time ever, he found himself shocked by the shear amount of aggressive cockiness that kid carried, shocked and a little drawn to it. He had always been drawn to self-assured guys; it was how he got so easily pulled in by Christian all those years before. But this wasn’t a man he was dealing with but a seventeen year old kid and he’d be damned if Jensen was going to let that go anywhere. Never mind the fact that Jared was his patient and under aged, Jensen wasn’t Christian, he wasn’t going to go there the way his ex had. He wasn’t going to take advantage of an inexperienced kid, twist him to his own desires, drag his self worth into the ground and then leave him floundering when something, someone, better came along. He just fucking wasn’t. He’d slit his own wrists before he let that happen.
But if he couldn’t ignore Jared’s overt tones then he was going to have to refer him to someone else and there were enough, so called, professional doctors out there that would try to “fix” Jared and they were the ones that scared Jensen the most. They were the ones that even if they knew that there was nothing wrong with the kid; they would keep working on him if for no other reason than to keep the Padalecki’s cash flowing into their greedy little hands. They were the ones that scared and angered Jensen because they were the ones that put the bottom line over the health and happiness of their patients.
He sighed and let his arms drop to settle on the armrests. He had yet to let one of the really upset patients go and risk them at the hands of another professional and he’d never forgive himself if he did it to Jared Padalecki. He was a professional too, a damn good professional. He had dragged himself out of the mire of his own fucked up life to put himself through school with the full intention of helping others and he was going to help Jared Padalecki, even if all he could do was be there for the kid to vent. Personal feelings had no place in his office, never made an appearance in his office and he would be damned if they suddenly did because of a pair of tilted hazel eyes and an aggressive self assurance that made his knees weak and his blood run hot.
Jensen scrubbed a hand through his hair. He just needed to go out, get laid. He hadn’t been fucked in almost a month and once he took care of that the world would be right once again, he was sure of it.
A slow smile curved his lips, “TGIF” he whispered just as his phone buzzed.
“Dr. Ack…Jensen, Misha Collins is on line two for you.”
Danneel only called him Jensen when the waiting room was empty and it was the end of the day and that only made the smile on his face wider. Stretching out his arm, he let his fingers curl around the receiver, “Thanks, Danneel. You just about ready to call it a day?”
“Just finishing up now.”
“Good enough. I’m going to be a few minutes yet so just tap on the door on your way out in case I’m still on the phone with Misha and have a great weekend.”
“You too, Jensen.”
You have no idea. He thought as he punched the button for line two and rested the receiver against his ear. “Misha Collins you’ve got some ‘splaning to do.” Of course that would only be after he worked out a couple things with Misha, meddling, over bearing, mother hen of a best friend.
“What the hell did I do?”
Jensen could clearly picture his friend sitting in his eco-friendly hybrid car, blue eyes wide with innocence and free hand pressing his hands-free ear piece harder against his ear, certain that he must be hearing Jensen wrong. Just as easily as he knew that was what Misha was doing, he also knew that Misha was full of shit and knew exactly what he had done.
“Got a phone call last night.” Jensen started, leaning back into his leather chair once more. “Imagine my surprise when the caller said his name was Kerr Smith and we had met at yours and Vicky’s house warming a couple of weeks ago. Wanted to know if I wanted to go out with him tonight. Now Mish, I know I had a couple glasses of wine but in no way was I drunk, we both know Tom would have never let me out of the apartment with my keys had I been anywhere near cut, and yet I don’t remember giving him my cell number. How do you suppose a work colleague of yours got my cell number?”
“I don’t know.”
And damn but if Jensen didn’t know Misha; he would have fallen for the utter confusion in his friend’s voice. Obviously Misha had missed his calling; he should have gone into acting, not publishing.
“Misha.” He warned low.
There was a second of silence before he sighed hard, “I was only trying to help. Kerr’s a nice guy Jensen and you seemed to get along fine at the party.”
“I’m going to get a tape recorder, make a recording and give you the cassette. And do you know what it’s going to be of Misha? Me. Repeating over and over that I’m not looking for any kind of relationship. That I’m happy where I am in my life right now. To stop trying to set me up with your co-workers or the cute barrista at the coffee shop in your apartment building or any other guy that you make small talk with and think is a nice guy. And I want you to put it under your pillow and play it every night while you sleep. If what I’m saying won’t sink into your head when I’m talking to you maybe it will through osmosis.”
“One,” Misha snorted, “Of anybody I know, you of all people know that osmosis doesn’t actually work. And two, Jensen, it’s been over a year since the last time you saw him, it’s about time you moved on.”
“I have moved on!” He bit back before blowing out a breath to try to calm himself down. He knew Misha was only doing this because he cared but he knew Jensen was happy with the way his life was now. Maybe in the beginning he had been stupidly waiting for Christian to come back, again. But he was so very past that now. He didn’t want a relationship and all the mess that came with it. He wasn’t having anonymous sex to keep guys at arms length; he was doing it because that’s all he wanted. A good time with no strings attached.
He just wished that Misha and everyone else believed him.
He shut his eyes and swallowed down the growl trying to claw up his throat. It was Friday, it was TGIF, just like it had been since he and Misha and Tom had all graduated to legal and here his best friend was trying to harsh on his happy. “Are we meeting everyone tonight at “Cue’s?”
“It’s Friday isn’t it?” Misha thankfully took the hint and let it go. Unfortunately, Jensen knew it was only for now; it was always only for now where Misha was concerned.
“Great.” He forced a cheerfulness into his voice that he hadn’t felt since this whole conversation had started going sideways. “I’ll meet you there in an hour.”
He ignored the hint of sadness in Misha’s voice as he let the receiver drop back into the cradle. He’d get a few beers in Misha, then playfully hit on Vicky and his friend would, predictably, forget all about trying to talk to him about his issues in the face of having to stake his claim. Like he really needed to worry about Jensen but it was an old game between them that did have the bonus of sidetracking Misha, every single time.
Jared sat sprawled out on the bench in front of the building Dr. Ackles’s office was housed in with his long legs spread out in front of him. It was a mild late spring afternoon, sun a bright yellow disk in the clear blue sky. Jared was content to wait for his friend Chad to pick him up and form a plan of attack for seducing Dr. Ackles. Jared wanted Dr. Ackles, oh yeah, and Jared was gonna get him.
He was pretty sure that Ackles batted for the home team, not that the good doctor gave anything of his sexual orientation away with a look or a mannerism; if anything, Dr. Ackles had been nothing put professional, a little reserved, but nice enough. Jared may be young but he has plenty of experience; he can tell when someone is into him, or if the potential is there. The way Dr. Ackles had moved away after Jared’s not so subtle innuendo, and the way he had refused to directly meet Jared’s eyes after told Jared all he needed to know. Dr. Ackles was into him, and Jared just knew under that cool detached facade there was a cockslut. The quiet ones always were.
Jared grins, thinking about it. He closes his eyes and imagines how Jensen would look, muscular chest slick and gleaming with sweat, bow legs wrapped around Jared’s hips, or maybe around his neck—mmm, yeah-- as he fucks hard and fast into the good doctor, he imagines how Ackles’s voice would sound screaming his name. It’s making him hard all over again. He lets his head fall back, sun warm on his face, and casually drops a hand into his lap, brushing against the bump of his half hard cock.
“Dude! They arrested Pee-Wee Herman for that, ya know.”
Jared’s eyes fly open and his head snaps forward and he sees his friend, Chad, in his broken down heap of a car. In its glory days it may have been a Mustang. Chad calls it a classic, and swears that he’s gonna fix her up, but what it really is is a pile of junk held together by rubber bands and duct tape that is two steps away from the junkyard. It had a busted headlight, the bumper was falling off, there were dings, scratches and even holes in the body, the cloth top wouldn’t raise, there was a hairline crack in the windshield, and 99% of the car’s paint was worn down to the flat white primer, and the undercarriage was almost rusted out. Jared always said that if they ever got lost they should just follow the trail of rust to find their way back, like Hansel and Gretel and their breadcrumbs. It also smoked profusely, backfired, and the transmission slipped; it was a miracle the thing was even street legal.
Jared rubs his damp palms on his thighs and shakes his head at his friend who was trying to look cool as shit with his overly gelled, carefully styled blond hair, and two-buck convenience store sunglasses. Chad is thoroughly convinced of his own awesome even if no one else sees it, but Jared loves him anyway. He and Chad have hooked up a few times in the past, the most awkward time being when Chad’s parents walked in on them. There were no romantic feelings between them just friendship, love, and a deep abiding trust; a trust that extended to them giving each other their virginities. Jared doesn’t regret it and neither does Chad, Jared thinks. They are just as close now as they have always been, know each other better than any two guys have a right to and the bond between them is unshakeable.
Jared smirks and gets to his feet. “Shut up, asshole,” he says with a smile.
Chad returns Jared’s smirk with one of his own and pushes his sunglasses up into his carefully coifed hair. “So? What did the doc give ya and can I have some?”
Jared walks around to the passenger side. Since the cloth top, which was holier than Swiss cheese, doesn’t raise and Jared doesn’t trust the door to not fall off when opened, he places one hand on the windshield the other on the neck rest of the seat, and jumps into the car. “Dipshit, he’s a PhD not an MD. He can’t write prescriptions.”
Chad rolls his eyes.
“And anyway,” Jared begins, eyes flashing mischievously. “It’s not what he’s gonna give me, it’s what I’m gonna give him.”
Chad arches a curious brow. “The fuck does that even mean?” Chad yanks the gearshift begrudgingly into drive and eases onto the gas, the car jerks forward several times before finally settling into a sort of smooth ride.
“Let’s go pick up Sandy and I’ll tell you guys all about it,” Jared says grinning.
Jared, Chad, and their best gal pal, Sandy McCoy, are sitting in the food court of the mall with a latte and Cinnabon each, the loud echo-y sounds of shoppers and the smell of food surrounding them. Chad and Sandy are looking at Jared expectantly, while he nonchalantly peels the giant cinnamon bun apart.
“Well?” Sandy says practically bouncing in her seat. She’s a sweet girl, with long dark hair and equally dark eyes that glimmer with excitement at the prospect of hearing a juicy tale or big secret from her friend. She has been friends with Chad and Jared for all her high school career and loves them dearly.
“Yeah, dude. Come on. Spill,” Chad says smirking as he takes a sip of his coffee.
Jared grins, his friends’ interest and excitement palpable.
He takes a sip of his own super-sweet coffee before clearing his throat. “You guys know how my parents are sending me to that shrink to “help me with my problem”?” Jared begins, using quote-y fingers around the last few words.
Chad sneers and rolls his eyes. His own parents had been rather blasé when he came out to them. Did it count as coming out if your parents caught you with your best friends’ dick up your ass?
Sandy’s eyes grow sad and sympathetic and she tilts her head to the side, a lock of her mahogany hair falling across her eye. She absently tucks it behind her ear before reaching across the table to take Jared’s hand. “Was it awful?”
Jared smiles softly and gives her hand a gentle squeeze before pulling it back. “No,” he says smile spreading wide over his straight white teeth, dimples carving deep lines in his cheeks. “The opposite. This doctor, Dr. Ackles, he’s…he’s,” Jared pauses, a crystal clear image of this psychologist swimming in front of him. Jared can practically feel the phantom of the doctor’s hand on his shoulder, and it makes a shiver run down his spine and warmth spread out from his belly. “He’s goddamn gorgeous!”
“HA!” Chad busts out and claps Jared hard on the back. “Dream much, do you, Jay?’ Chad asks in a sardonic voice looking skeptically amused.
Sandy gives a puzzled frown. “I don’t follow.”
“I want him, and I’m gonna get him,” Jared says resolutely.
Sandy looks even more puzzled. “Y-you…you wanna hook up with your shrink?” Sandy asks.
Jared’s eyes flash and he nods. “Ho, yeah,” Jared says with relish. “And I will.”
Sandy’s face scrunches up adorably before she speaks. “Look, I know you don’t wanna go through this therapy, but maybe it would do you some good to, you know, actually talk to your therapist instead of try to get into his pants, which, by the way, will never happen.” That was Sandy, the voice of reason in their little group.
Chad polishes off the last of his cinnamon bun before he speaks. “I don’t know, Sands. If anyone can get into Dr. Lector’s pants, it’s Jay.”
“What d’ya wanna bet I’ll have him callin’ my ass ‘Daddy’?” Jared says giggling as he pops the last of his own sweet treat into his mouth.
“Dude, I am so not takin’ that bet,” Chad says wisely, blue eyes sparkling with mirth.
“You guys are unbelievable!” Sandy huffs, throwing up her hands.
Jared and Chad fling their arms around each other’s shoulders and share a chaste kiss before turning back to their friend, heads pressed together, identical grins on their faces.
“You know it, sistah.”
Jared hops out of Chad’s Mustang, waves goodbye to his two best friends as they drive off, Chad’s heap jerking as it accelerates, and Jared had to smile at that. He watches ‘til Chad and Sandy disappear around the corner before he turns and looks up at his house and his happy mood evaporates. The house is a nice two story, with a wide, four columned porch, well-manicured, lush, green lawn, no brash or gaudy lawn ornaments or creepy gnomes. Everything perfect, everything in its place. He knows he’s the only thing that doesn’t fit into his parents’ perfect world.
His older brother, Jeff, is athletic, smart, successful, with an equally perfect wife that his parents love. Then there was his perky, adorable little sister, all pink and perfect for his Mom and Dad to dote on and spoil. Jared used to think he felt out of place because he was gay, but not so much anymore. It’s more than that. Before he came out Jared was always overlooked, less perfect than Jeff and not cute and adorable like his baby sister. Part of Jared thinks he exploded out of the closet in a desperate attempt to get some attention. He got attention all right…just not the kind he wanted.
He hates the way his mother and father look at him these days. His father looks at him like he’s less a son than he was before; Jared can still shoot hoops, throw a wicked curveball, crack a joke and pull a prank. The only difference is that he…just…likes…cock! His mother isn’t much better with her hang-dog expression when she turns her eyes on him, like Jared is dead or dying. There is nothing wrong with him, goddamnit! He wishes, more than wishes, he’d never say so, but sometimes, he prays, prays so hard that his parents will get it through their heads and stop trying to change him, stop trying to make him into someone he’s not just so he’ll better fit into their perfect apple pie family, but so far, no one has answered his prayers.
Jared blows out a breath and walks slowly up the walkway, head down and shoulders hunched. He climbs up the two stairs and onto the porch knowing his parents are going to ask about his session with Dr. Ackles. Jared reaches out and twists the golden knob and the door opens with a quiet snick.
“Jared? Is that you?” Came his mother’s voice from the kitchen.
Jared closes the door quietly and heads straight up the stairs.
“Hold it right there.” His father’s stern voice reaches his ears and he stops with his foot on the fifth step.
“Damn it,” he curses under his breath. He turns around and looks down at his parents standing side by side, a perfect united front, at the bottom of the stairs. “What?” He asks.
Both of his parents’ brows come together in identical disapproving scowls, their default setting when looking at him. “Watch your tone,” his father says predictably.
Jared swallows down the retort longing to break free, crosses his arms over his chest, and huffs instead.
“I’m home,” he says.
His parents look at him intently for a second, probably seeing if the session with Dr. Ackles helped make him any less gay. Jared wants to laugh out loud at that thought.
“Well, go upstairs and get washed up for dinner,” his mother says finally.
“That’s what I was doing,” Jared spouts before he can stop himself.
“What did I just say?” His father asks, mouth a thin tight angry line.
Jared closes his eyes briefly and takes a deep calming breath. “Yes, ma’ma,” Jared says. “Sir,” he adds after a moment.
His mother smiles her sad smile and his father nods, motioning with a hand for Jared to continue upstairs.
Jared nods, turns, and continues up the stairs to his room. He can hardly contain his anger and disappointment as he lets himself into his room. He remembers at the last second not to slam the door.
Jared looks around feeling a little lost; he looks at his OLP posters, his Mavericks and Cowboys Banners, the things that make him who he is. He’s still Jared. Why can’t his parents see that?
He sighs and shakes his head, preferring to focus on other things, like Dr. Ackles. Jared strips off his t-shirt, unbuttons and unzips his jeans, strips them off, grabs a clean pair of underwear and heads for the shower.
Jared comes down the steps a half an hour later , his father is already seated at the head of the table and the delicious smells of dinner wafting in from the kitchen and Jared’s stomach rumbles. He takes his place and his brows furrow in confusion.
“Where’s Megan?” He asks looking at the empty place setting across from him that belonged to his sister.
“She’s having a sleepover this weekend at Heather’s,” his mother, Sherri, says bringing in a roast on a serving platter and setting it down in front of his father, Gerald.
“Oh,” Jared says softly trying hard not to roll his eyes. With Meggie gone that means his parents’ attention will be focused solely on him. Great.
Quiet descends as Sherri brings in the rest of the meal, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, fruit salad, and coleslaw. Gerald carves the roast as Sherri takes her pace at the other end of the table.
It’s too much to hope for that the meal will pass in pleasant, blessed, silence.
“So,” his mother begins voice tinged with excitement. “How did it go with Dr. Ackles?”
Jared sighs heavily and rakes a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he says sullenly. He slouches further down in his chair and pushes his mashed potatoes around with his fork, appetite suddenly gone.
“Really?” His father asks. “Do you think he’ll be able to help you?”
Jared bites his tongue so hard he tastes the coppery tang of blood in his mouth. He drops his fork with a loud clatter. “Can I please be excused?” He asks voice tight with barely contained anger.
“Of course not,” his mother answers, primly. “You haven’t touched your dinner. Now eat, you’re a growing boy.”
Jared rolls his eyes and picks up his fork again. He angrily cuts his roast before shoving an over-large piece into his mouth and chewing.
Minutes pass in tense silence, silverware clattering on china, murmured “pass the’s” and “thanks you’s”, the air heavy with questions left unasked, until his father speaks again.
“What did you talk about?”
Jared cuts hard eyes over to his father and drops his fork, because he’s not sure he isn’t gonna leap across the table and gouge his father’s eyes out. “Nuthin’. He asked a buncha questions ‘bout me. What I like to do, my friends, an’ school an’ stuff.”
“Well, I don’t like the sound of that! We’re paying him to put you right, not chit-chat.”
Jared explodes out of his chair, shaking with rage, and pain. “There is nothing wrong with me! Why the fuck can’t you see that?” Jared asks, pleads, desperately.
Jared’s father tosses his napkin down and gets to his feet. “You listen to me, Jared Padalecki, you will speak to your mother and I with respect!”
“I will as soon as you start respecting me!” Jared shouts, voice taking on an unwanted tremor.
“That’s it! Get up to your room right now! You’re grounded! You are to go to school and your appointments with Dr. Ackles only. Your mother or I will take you and pick you up. You will not hang out with that friend of yours.” The disdain in Gerald’s voice was obvious as he mentioned Chad.
“I think that is a great idea. That…boy probably has something to do with,” Sherri makes circular motions with a delicate hand. “This.”
“FUCK YOU!” Jared screams, chest tight, eyes burning.
His mother gives a horrified gasp.
“Upstairs. Now.” Gerald growls.
Jared nods and storms up the stairs, down the hall, and bursts into his room, slamming the heavy door behind him so hard it’s amazing that it’s still on the hinges.
“Fucking assholes!” Jared seethes.
It wasn’t bad enough his parents were on his case but now they were attacking Chad. He and Chad had been virtually inseparable since the day they met way back in second grade. Jared’s parents knew nothing about Chad, had never wanted to know anything about him until Chad’s well-meaning open-minded parents had called Gerald and Sherri after Chad’s parents had caught the two boys having sex to tell them how happy they were that their boys were now “together”. It wasn’t true of course, Jared and Chad were young, horny, and liked getting off, so they got off together and had been since they were fourteen. They had stopped hooking up when Chad got a boyfriend at fifteen. Chad’s boyfriends came and went and Jared found other hook ups but their friendship remained. Now, his parents were threatening to take that away from him. It was too much on top of everything else.
Jared lies down on his bed, tells himself that it doesn’t matter that his parents don’t accept him, that it’s his life and as long as he’s happy it’s okay. He tells himself he’s not gonna cry. He knows its all lies.
“And then the drunk bastard had the nerve to call me a “pretty boy fag”. Tom growled low before grabbing his beer and taking a long pull.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jensen watched Misha turn and hide his face in the soft curve of Vicky’s neck but it did nothing to hide his mirth. He rolled his eyes at his friend’s shaking shoulders and had to reevaluate his earlier assumption that Misha would have made a good actor. Right now, he seemed to be shit at it but maybe that was the three beers he had had with dinner or maybe he was only good at pretending when he was busy trying to play matchmaker for Jensen. Jensen kind of hoped it was the former, not the latter because the thought that Misha would only get better at deceiving him where playing matchmaker was concerned, scared the crap out of him.
“But you are a pretty boy Tommy.”
Jensen’s stomach cringed at the words and he bit back a sigh. He had no right to show any outward sign that Tom and Mike’s easy displays of affection for each other made him want to gag. He should be happy that somehow, even after four years, the pair had somehow managed to maintain the “honeymoon stage” of their relationship but Jesus it got to be nauseating on occasions.
And that’s all it was a low level disgusted dismay. It wasn’t because they had something that he was never able to achieve. Nope, not at all.
Tom let his bottle drop back to the table and turned to press his lips against Mike’s.
It was rare that Jensen ever felt like a third wheel with his friends. Usually Friday nights meant replaying the week’s events, both good and embarrassing, between friends. It was cathartic. After a particularly bad week, it was nice to let it all out and get the honest opinions of people he trusted to tell him the honest truth. If something that got under his skin was legitimate or if he was simply being oversensitive or overly miserable. But there were moments, when Tom would look a certain way at Mike or Mike would lean into Tom or Misha and Vicky would fade out of the conversation and into each other that made him want to squirm. To search his mind for reasons to make his escape from the happy couples that wouldn’t seem pathetic or desperate.
And the evening had been going so well, meeting with everyone at Mike’s place, “Cue’s” which was half restaurant and half nightclub divided by a soundproof wall that did nothing when the door between the two was opened but still a nice touch. The food, as usual was great, the company entertaining and the atmosphere relaxing. But now, not so much.
There were still a couple hours before the nightclub side would actually start seeing real business but it didn’t mean that Jensen didn’t wish they would move there now so that he could slip away into the relative darkness and just escape from the happy couples for awhile.
But since he couldn’t, “And you are a fag Tom.”
“Fuck you Jensen!” Tom hissed and then instantly glanced around the restaurant as Misha burst out laughing and nearby heads started to turn.
“Tom!” Mike’s eyes had gone wide and he tilted his head further toward the table, as if it would somehow conceal the fact that he was Michael Rosenbaum, owner. “Please baby.”
“Sorry, sorry.” He rubbed up and down Mike’s arm while he turned his glare on Jensen. “Nice.”
Jensen shrugged, totally unrepentant, “It’s the truth.” It was hard to feel bad when, one, it was the truth and two, it got the desired effect. Mike and Tom were no longer lipped locked and Misha wasn’t sniffing or licking or whatever he had been doing to Vicky’s throat while he had his face snuggled into her neck. The table was no longer two couples plus one, but five friends shooting the breeze, the way it should be.
The way it had been until Mike had appeared at Tom’s side almost four years before and then Vicky six months earlier. Even when he had been with Christian, Jensen had never dragged him along on his and Misha and Tom’s Friday night gatherings. Or, at least, not after the first couple of months his and Christian’s first spin at being a couple. Christian said he didn’t like feeling like he was being left out of some personal joke and, even back then, Jensen could tell that his friends only tolerated Christian for his benefit, so he hadn’t fought harder to keep Christian included. And maybe he was just the tiniest bit bitter about that, maybe.
Still it was supposed to be five friends together, at least until they moved over to the other side of the building. It would be nice if that could be remembered.
“Yeah, well…” Tom’s mouth turned down. “As true as that may be, it doesn’t mean that some drunk asshole I’m busting can say shit like that to me. I’m a cop, I deserve a certain amount of respect.”
“And even if the Conroe Sheriff’s department is okay with gays in their ranks, it’s not something they want advertised.” Misha cut Tom’s, well known, tirade off. “But Tom, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but the guy wasn’t insulting you because he knew you were gay. He was hoping you were a homophobic asshole who would beat the shit out of him so that he could sue Conroe’s finest.”
“And at least you aren’t treated badly for being out and proud at your job.” Vicky added just as Tom opened his mouth as if to argue. “Remember I told you about that new professor at the University? Professor Alan? It was all good at the beginning of the year, everybody was so nice to him until he brought his partner to the faculty mixer in October. Now half the faculty ostracizes him. Homophobic fuckers.”
Jensen’s mouth dropped open and he was extremely happy that his own beer bottle had only just touched his lips at Vicky’s words. He could count on one hand, the amount of times that Vicky had sworn; it just wasn’t something she did. And judging by how quickly her cheeks were turning pink it had only now occurred to her what she had said.
It was Misha that broke the shocked silence by laughing, “Oh baby I love it when you get all passionate.”
“Shut up.” She mumbled but the moment was eased as she, Jensen and the others joined in on the mirth.
Master Post / Chapter 02