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“Hey, uhm—can we talk?”
Jared’s had a few drinks, but what else is new. Jeff tells him, “Sure,” and, “what’s up?” and that face…that cringing, small mouth just makes him want to laugh.
“Don’t laugh…”
“Never. What’s up?”
“…Promise me you won’t laugh.”
“Just get it out already, man.”
“We just wanted—I, uhm.”
Jeff snorts, “Go on,” and he should get a medal for this. Adorable to see that giant squirm on the chair Jeff once bought, in the house Jeff still pays off—partly with the rent Jared insists on paying, like a dumbass.
Jared blurts, “You’re, like—if you wanna watch, or join, uhm—that’s fine by me, I mean, us, so,” and Jeff doesn’t laugh even though he didn’t specifically promise, and Jared’s head goes that much redder with it, both clumsy hands on the expensive glass with the expensive booze in it while Jensen’s upstairs, feeding Avery a last time before bed.
“Cool. Okay.”
“…Uh, okay? Cool.”
“That’s what I said.”
“You’re laughing!”
“I really ain’t…”
“You’re chuckling…”
“You’re hearing things, dude. Relax. It’s fine. You fucking know I’m fine with it.”
Jared cringes some more. Jeff pats his arm, which only prompts the elk of a man to flinch like a fucking rabbit.
Jeff soothes, “Hey, now,” and he might be chuckling for real, and Jared—gosh, he’s helpless, isn’t he, even after all this time. Almost two years since they had Avery, and Jeff’s been daring to make longer trips again lately with the biggest baby steps out of the way, and maybe that’s it: Jared’s conscience, getting the better of him for screwing Jeff’s husband like a cheap bastard. As if Jeff hadn’t discussed this with Jensen (at length), as if Jensen didn’t forward Jeff’s point of view in the matter… No, Jared’s just—Jared. Anxious with a side of too much syndrome.
Jared releases his breath through his clenched teeth. Tipsy in Jeff’s living room, he sags a little more. One hand to that face, rubbing his eye, his brow.
“I’m just… This is hard for me, man.”
“You don’t say.”
“Quit it…”
“I ain’t doin’ nothing.”
“Can’t you just—be a bit of an asshole? Just once? For me?”
Jeff lets his mouth pop on that, “Nope,” and Jared’s groan is so heartwarming that Jeff laughs, after all. Oh, no, Jeff’s not an angel to the extent of making it easy on the guy on top of everything else. You don’t get to have Jeff’s cake and eat it, too. One, soon two babies…! Jeff deserves this little joy, if anything.
“I hate you…”
“You don’t mean that.”
Jared’s look says it all. Hah. Yeah, no, Jeff’s got him figured out.
“Someone needs to step back from that bottle and put his ear to a pillow instead… Come on, up you go, big guy, we can talk about this once you’re sober…”
Jared grumbles, “Stop it, I can do this myself,” all the while gladly putting his arm around Jeff’s shoulders to be escorted upstairs. That liquid courage catches up to Jared, and Jeff’s not delusional: Jared won’t unclench his stubborn teeth for a single peep once he sleeps off all those drinks. Will pretend nothing’s wrong, that he’s not gagging for an hour alone with Jeff’s husband, that he’s not already looking up baby names for Jeff’s second child. Jensen’s been so sweet lately, too; apologetic even though there is nothing to mend, just as unaware of what is really going on as the boy toy he keeps labeling as his ‘best friend’… Would be cute if it wasn’t so horrifyingly cliché. They’re lucky they’ve got Jeff to figure this shit out for them.
“Careful with the head… Nope, nooope, big guy, bed…!”
“But I wanna tell her good night…”
“You smell like a bar, Padalecki, you’ll give her secondhand alcohol poisoning. Don’t be a baby.”
Jared grunts, “You’re a baby,” and Jeff snorts, slightly out of breath. Hell, Jensen could have gone for someone not tree-tall, couldn’t he?
~
Life is good. The last books had gone off and Jeff’s agent keeps forwarding invitation after invitation—events, talks, podcasts, book deals. For the new baby’s sake, Jeff accepts a bunch of them. Jensen voices his concerns. Jeff reminds him that he’s still got Jared, and isn’t that enough—two crazy-ass mother hens, swarming around Jeff’s poor little girl? Jensen pouts for that, like he’s genuinely upset. Like Jeff’s insinuating unspeakable shit. Like he wasn’t suspiciously sore and soft that morning when Jeff insisted that Avery’s clearly still sleeping, darling, don’t worry about her right now.
Jeff works, and he’s happy that way. Avery’s the light of their life, a bundle of joy and all that yadda yadda, and Jensen wants another one, and that’s fine, too. They have a huge-ass house and they can afford it, so why not… And he can have his big-dicked bestie on the side, too, screw it; better the devil you know and all that, and it’s not like Jeff’s been completely immune to all that southern charm, the big dimples and the curious eyes, but it’s getting ridiculous, lately. Jeff’s been nothing but welcoming and instead of relaxing and being grateful, Jared only grows more uncomfortable for it. Might consider it all too good to be true, like Jeff’s gonna drop that other shoe right on his dumb, big head when he least expects it. There is no other fucking shoe. Jeff just wants to be left in peace, that’s all.
So when Jensen’s half-moved-into-the-house best friend mumbles, “Uhm, hey,” and it’s a Sunday morning, a nice and sunny one, too, and Jeff’s been up most of the night bottle feeding or writing, Jeff is tempted to just…put it all out there. That he fucking knows. That it’s fucking all right, stop giving me those kicked-puppy eyes, you’re a grown-ass man just like I am, like the guy upstairs whose dick you sucked last night when y’all thought I was asleep. You’re not fooling anyone. Just stop.
Jeff cuts Jared off: “Almost time, huh?”
“Uh. What?”
Jeff taps the colored calendar strip Jensen so dutifully taped to the refrigerator. Jared’s mouth opens and closes. He’s still in his sleep shirt. Running shorts, because he’s a lunatic like that.
“Pink means ovulation. Right?”
“Uhm… That’s not what I…”
“You guys gonna try again tonight? Or after lunch, when she’s napping?”
Jared starts, “I,” and he’s pinker than the damn marker already, his hair unkempt and that stupid watch he never takes off, and. Hell. Hell, Jeff’s over it. He’s just over it.
“Look—I can come, right? Join you guys. You said so, remember? So, yeah: let’s do that. I’m game.”
A beat. The devil on Jeff’s shoulder cackles for the drop of that jaw (the hasty lick to that dry-dry lip).
“Uhm—yeah. Yeah? Okay. Okay, sure. Yeah, that’d be…”
“I mean, I can just watch. For now. Unless you guys need an extra set of hands. Or a mouth.”
Jeff winks just to see Jared’s soul leaving his body that much clearer.
Jeff smacks that ass as he pushes past Jared with a malicious grin hiding behind his coffee cup. The poor guy balks. If not even Jensen can fuck the good catholic boy out of the PhD, well, Jeff’s just gonna have to work with that.
“Well, don’t let me stop you. Get those miles in, chop chop.”
~
As Jeff joins Jensen in the home gym in the attic, he walks in on a furious rowing machine workout. Jensen’s the only one concerned about that persistent baby weight, but concerned he is. Like it even fucking matters, considering that he’s gonna balloon right back up with the next one soon. Sooner than soon, if his little calendar math pays off. Anyway. Jeff’s not dumb enough to make a peep about this shit.
Jeff’s husband startles and removes one earbud for Jeff’s hollered, “Yo, Arnold!” A glare, but Jensen puts the handles away. Doesn’t get up though. Jeff chuckles, leans against the door frame, coffee in hand. “Just ran into your better half in the kitchen. Had a little chat.”
“For the last time, he’s not my…!” An unnerved sigh. That other earbud goes, too. “So?”
“‘So’, I’ll be joining y’all tonight. Or whenever. Schedule’s all clear.”
“Are you serious? … What did he say?”
“Oh, now he’s listening…”
Jensen fully turns to look up at Jeff, sweaty and huffing and puffing. Jeff could wax poetic about the level of dishevelment of that hair, the way Jensen’s workout shirt clings to his tits and bulging shoulders…
“Didn’t say a whole lot. Kinda froze and took it. I mean, that’s what he wanted, right? Involving me more. So, there you have it.”
“Wait, so… Wait.”
Jensen raises his hand, shakes his head. He puts his foot down from the machine, the pristine white sneakers that never saw (or will see) the outside world. Jensen licks some sweat from his upper lip. Fuck the coffee in Jeff’s hand; he drinks that shit right down.
“… And you’re seriously fine with that? A hundred percent?”
“You’re starting that shit on me as well? Jensen Ross…”
“No, I mean—listen, we talked about it, I’m aware, just…!”
A huff, helpless.
Jeff raises a brow behind his low-sitting reading glasses.
“Are you getting cold feet?”
Jensen’s pretty mouth opens. No sound emerges.
An awkward pause. Jeff leans a bit heavier against the door frame.
“… I mean, I can just fuck off, as per usual. I don’t mind.”
“No, uhm. … No. No, I—what I said still stands.” Sheepish eyes. “I want that. You know I do.”
Jeff snorts. “Well, good.”
“No, not good, Jeff, not fucking good…!”
Jeff laughs. “Well, what do you want me to say? ‘Wow, I’m so madly in love with him as well, baby, let’s all get married and frolic in the fields with our ten thousand babies’? Come on, cut me some slack; he’s hot, you’re hot, open relationships aren’t fucking new to me, it’s just sex. To me, at least.”
“I ain’t—”
“Sure, you ain’t.”
Jensen huffs, glares. Jeff stands his ground. He’s too sleep deprived for this kind of crap. Hell, if Jensen’s really looking to get himself knocked up today, Jeff probably should wedge a nap in, pronto, unless he wants to miss the show after all. A pointed sip from his coffee. Jeff pulls his morning robe a little tighter around his middle. He nods to the rowing machine, the timer running on without any input from Jensen.
“Come on, don’t let me ruin your workout. I didn’t mean to upset you. You know that’s the last thing I’m looking for.”
“… Jeff.”
“Yeah.”
Jensen frowns. “You’d tell me, right? If it rubbed you wrong.”
“Hm, I doubt either of you is gonna rub me the ‘wrong’ way today.”
Jensen snorts. Half a smile, at least; Jeff takes that. Gladly.
A wink, an air kiss. “Just promise you’ll call me when it’s going down, all right? I want the whole show. Every sloppy, embarrassing detail included.”
“Ha-ha. Yeah, sure,” and Jensen says that so laissez-faire, but his jaw tightens a little for it, and Jeff—hell, Jensen’s always been just a little too wild for his own good. If it wasn’t for the toddler running around their legs, he’d broken out the big guns and instigated this little ménage a trois way sooner… Jeff’s husband always had a certain embarrassment about anything improper happening in public, so maybe, Jeff playing peeping tom is gonna feed into way more than only Jeff’s personal pleasure. Well, so be it.
As far as Jeff’s opinion is concerned, there are far worse things he’s done to this marriage than feeding into his husband’s not-so-secret desires.
~
One solid three hour nap later, Jeff feels a little less prone to murder. Alone in the huge bed, he rolls over once more, scratches his heavily tattooed chest. He yawns, ponders. Jared. Yeah, big ol’ Jared.
Jeff climbs out of bed, pitter-patters out of the sunny bedroom, his robe his only piece of clothing. Nursery’s empty—Jeff exhales with relief, fastens the belt of this robe. If they’re busy with the baby, they wouldn’t be… Wow. Okay? Jeff, you old fool, you’re starting to get invested with the concept, aren’t you?
Those two are not as secretive as they think they are. Jeff has been running into them several times now (although they are getting more careful about doors since Avery started walking) and as dearly as he is in complete and utter devotion with his loving husband, Jeff’s also just a nasty old man who has no issue getting off to the sight of said husband rocking the sheets with some hot piece of ass. Jared’s a cute kid, Jeff’s always liked him—just never thought this kinda shit was on the table at all, and before the whole surrogate affairs, they were perfectly platonic… Well, stuck on each other in a sickeningly little girl best friends way, sure, but Jensen swore he’d never, not in a million years, and Jeff believed that. Still believes that. Jensen’s not the type to cheat. Jared, on the other hand? Hell, Jeff knows exactly what his husband looks like.
The longing eyes Jared kept making when he thought nobody including his own conscience was looking might have gone lost on poor, stubborn Jensen, but Jeff kept close tabs on that shit. Not that Jared ain’t no good mama’s boy, no: but kids like him, they tend to think too much. Tend to build sandcastles in their heads that outshine the harsh light of day (by far) or paint pictures so warped nobody but them could make out even a hint of a shape. Jeff can only imagine what’s going on in that pretty melon. Frankly, Jeff can imagine just fine.
Downstairs, but still no guys, no daughter. Jeff treats himself to a huge-ass sandwich, a soda. Somewhere around the second-last bite, the front door announces someone’s return: clatter, Jensen’s sigh.
Jared says, “I got it,” and Jeff sips more soda as he watches Avery’s bio dad carefully peel her out of the carrying contraption around his torso. Jensen puts the keys away and then he’s right back, helping. Cooing at his sleeping daughter, smooching her exhaustion-pink cheek. He hefts her into his arms (she’s getting big) while Jared puts away the sling, and that’s when Jensen notices: perks, like he’s caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and Jeff silently waves, smiling, wiping at the mustard in his beard. Jared half-bumps into Jeff’s husband, slightly out of breath, his big hands instinctively on Jensen’s shoulders. He lifts them off when he spots Jeff. Idiots. I’m gonna watch y’all cream each other today, remember?
“Hey.”
“Hey!”
“I’ll get her upstairs real quick…”
Still from right by the door, Jared agrees, “Yeah,” his hands awkwardly on his sides, his forearms bare, tanned. Jeff scoffs; Jared notices. Clears his throat.
“Get the fuck in, man. I’m not gonna bite your dick off.”
Jared clears his throat again, and Jeff drains his soda before he gathers his shit, fills the dishwasher with it and motions for Jared to follow him.
Jeff loves this house. He loves every item that’s in it, including the weird shit Jensen’s side of the family gifted them for their wedding. Spite gifts, yeah, sure, but that only makes it funnier. The twisted vase. The hilarious (overpriced) painting. Jeff’s hand slides along the beautiful railing they custom ordered because why the fuck not and Jared finally found his balls and slipped his shoes off, stalks after Jeff. Jensen finishes up in the nursery. By the time Jeff gets to softly wrap his arms around that middle, Jensen’s oh-so-carefully closing that door.
“Hey there.”
“Hey. Uh—hey.”
A kiss to the back of Jensen’s tense neck; sun and sweat and Jensen’s warm-warm hands layer over Jeff’s half-bare forearms.
Jeff hums, “Were y’all trying to sneak away or…?” and Jensen objects, “You were sleeping,” and Jeff’s kissed his man in front of his man’s best man many-a times before, but it never specifically turned him on like it does right now.
After the initial shock, Jensen relaxes into it. One Jeff-hand to that freshly shaved cheek, and Jeff wonders—if that was Jared’s or Jensen’s idea, which one of them gets off to the thought of Jensen all smooth, and Jensen draws a hitched little breath for Jeff’s other hand sliding up his stomach, under his shirt. The tilt of Jeff’s hips, so they’re crotch to ass, and Jensen turns instinctively, a nervous glance to the clumsy figure by the stairs.
“No need to be shy. I think we’re well past that.”
Jensen says, “Something tells me you’ve cozied up to that whole ‘I’ll watch y’all’ idea,” and then he grunts a little, sweet and hot because Jeff grabs his junk for him, everything but subtle. A trail of kisses along Jensen’s pretty neck; eyes on Jared. Still pink-cheeked from the walk, the sun. Or, maybe, thinking about all the ways he was gonna (is gonna) work this baby into Jensen. Either way, Jeff lets his man’s dick go in favor of the bedroom door handle. A beckoning motion towards the coward, a grin.
“Well, c’mon. Put the money where that pretty mouth is, Jay.”
A muffled, “Jesus,” and Jeff snickers, strolls into the room built for two with some generosity, so Jared sleeps over just fine, the bed’s big enough to hold three whole idiots. Jeff leads Jensen along by his hand and Jensen says, “Um,” and, “Right now?” and Jeff just hums, nods, pleased. Like they weren’t playing Avery right into a deep sleep for this very purpose.
Jeff kisses his husband again, now by the bed and his hands on—all that man, the soft of his stomach and in his chest, the nice shirt shifting and rustling and Jensen sighs, small. Those hands push flat down Jeff’s stomach, his hips, thighs. Jensen makes an appreciative noise. Or an embarrassed one. That line’s kinda blurry.
“Get your ass over here, kid. You ain’t gonna knock him up just by looking—even though you’re trying, really,” and Jared flinches, but obeys.
Moves weird and stiff and tries, “Are you really sure?” while his hands already slide around Jensen’s sides—get picked up by Jeff, who places them on the buckle of Jensen’s belt, the fly of those jeans. Jensen’s pretty hand half-slips under Jeff’s robe. His eyes hang heavy—on Jeff. Jeff licks his own lip. Looks back and forth between the two.
“Any of you who asks that shit again is gonna buy me fucking dinner tonight. I fucking mean it.”
And with that, Jeff steps back—slowly. Savoring Jensen’s touch, but what’s to come if he gives them just a little bit of space is gonna be worth it. So very worth it. As he walks backwards to that chair by the built-in closet, just by the side of the bed, Jeff points at Jared. At Jensen.
“I was promised a fucking show, so you better live up to it.”
Jensen smirks. “Pretty sure that wasn’t exactly what was said,” and Jeff shrugs, smirks back as he blindly clears the damn chair of half-dirty clothes, flops down on it instead. He’s aware his robe parts where it counts, and that Jared and Jensen are aware of it, too—Jared’s caught in the headlights look has its charms, really, but Jeff’s heard the guy fuck, and he better get a move on if he wants to give Jensen that kind of…‘impact’.
“Suck his fucking mouth, Jared, it’s not there to just look pretty.”
Jared blurts, “Wow,” and Jensen kind of laughs, low and brittle at the edges already like he suddenly remembers how pent up he is, and of course, it’s Jensen who turns—around, Jared’s face cupped in his palms, and Jeff hadn’t seen that before. Which is weird, because he knows how Jared’s dick looks stuffed into Jensen’s ass, but: nice. Very nice indeed.
Jared’s big-ass hands just kinda hover before Jensen pulls one of those dirty tongue tricks that dissipates even Jared’s flight-or-fight instinct. Right on the prize, one cheek each, and he rucks Jensen close, dick to dick and they keep kissing, keep licking into each other with growing intensity. Jeff puts his chin on his knuckles, rubs the inside of his thigh with the other. Teases, for now. Just getting started.
Jared huffs and steps his leg out so Jensen can ride his thigh while Jared rubs right into his crack. Mumbles, “Fuck,” and, “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” and Jensen shushes, kisses. Grinds on that leg (into that hand) already, eager as ever, and Jeff snorts, enamored. Flash backs to what he made Jensen tell him about how he and Jared do it, what gets Jensen off about it the most… Yeah, this feels right. Overdue, really.
“Can I see some skin? Remember, I can only use my eyes, guys… Ah, you’re too kind, baby…”
Jensen huffs, “Bossy,” with a grin, with Jared spluttering as he gets his shirt rucked right over his head, tossed into the opposite corner of the room. Jensen spins them, shows his husband his walking and talking toy’s broad, naked back—that perky little ass, Jensen’s squeezing hand on it. Jeff laughs. Jensen muffles Jared’s giggle with another slick kiss.
“Looking good, Jay.”
Jared huffs. Lets himself get groped while he goes to work on that belt, finally. Jeff zones out on the hypnotizing rubs and squeezes of that oh-so familiar hand on that until recently forbidden fruit, wondering just how far Jared would let him…would let Jensen, or Jeff…! Hmm, there goes that zipper. The clatter of Jensen’s undone belt, still laced into those jeans; Jensen’s gasp as Jared presumably stuffs his whole fucking hand into that underwear to get at that handsome dick.
Their wedding band gleams in the curtain-clouded afternoon sunlight on the hand whose fingers Jensen rubs Jared’s taint with and Jensen sighs, tilts his pink head.
The softest, “Fuck,” and then Jared is back on those lips again, sucks while his lean, big arm shifts just-so, a gentle, pulling motion, still just figuring out the logistics, maybe. That other hand on Jensen’s hip, Jensen’s short-sleeved summer shirt not even unbuttoned or anything but Jensen’s already sighing like he’s inside something warm and wet, and Jeff’s mouth waters a little more for that darling jump of some of those muscles in that big back as Jensen unzips those fugly shorts for his boy, makes him tremble with how delicately he begins to handle that huge fucking dick. Yeah. Yeah, Jeff’s well aware. At this point, though, jealousy would be kinda ridiculous, wouldn’t it?
“Um… Um, wait… Uhm…!”
“Shh, hey, I got it. I got you.”
Jared hisses, “Fuck,” and grabs his own hair while Jensen gracefully drops to a squat, turns Jared so Jeff can see—yeah, that’s a whole lot of meat right there, but the death grip Jensen’s got on the floppy length of it tells Jeff that the guy’s not even hard yet. Still fucking hot, really, and Jeff shifts on his comfy chair while Jensen settles, coaxes: quick, long pulls of his fist and he kisses above Jared’s dick before he goes for a thigh, those nuts. Makes Jared huff and step his legs apart for stability because, yeah, Jensen’s mouth does that to you, and Jared rakes through his hair and tips his pretty head back and stammers, “Fuck, sorry… Sorry…!” and Jensen simply ignores him, wraps his lips around that thick tip and closes his eyes, hollows those cheeks. Jeff’s fingers finally slide around his very own plaything. A squeeze, first, to encourage more blood to flow. Big stud Jared, whining with a gorgeous mouth on his soft dick—Jeff’s probably an asshole to be enjoying the view this much.
Jeff hums, “Relax,” and Jared’s tit jumps for it, that stressed vein in his reddening neck—those eyes are squeezed shut, that jaw tighter than Jensen’s asshole the night Jeff caved and entertained that whole little rough role play Jensen had been obsessing about. Jeff wets his lip, then his hand—strokes, easy and slow, and Jared bites back a whimper while Jensen hums, lost in his self-proclaimed task. Yeah, Jeff’s boy sucks cock like nobody else. Jeff has to admit that he’s proud how well Jensen manages even a guy of Jared’s caliber. “Looking so hot, you two. Jay, you’re doing fine… C’mon, look how pretty he’s sucking you off… Bet he’d eat your ass so fine, too…”
Jared blurts, “Fuck, Jeff,” and Jeff snickers, and Jensen does, too—takes his hand off Jared’s balls to rub further back, instead, that pretty arm flexing and his eyes peeling open, high: watching, how Jared groans, shudders. Tired of his own hair, Jared grabs Jensen’s instead. Gentle, still, but if some dry fingers on his bare little asshole have that kind of effect on him, Jeff’s got a feeling Jensen’s gonna have that boy undone in t minus ten…nine…eight…!
“There he goes. Good boy, Jared; you like that, huh? Interesting. Very interesting.”
Jensen pulls off that (now swelling) cock to slur, “A man of many talents, really,” and Jared groans again, groans more when Jensen takes him back down his throat, sucks according to his dedication to his mission. Fascinated, Jeff watches that dick filling out in real time: thick and thicker, longer as well until the veins start to show and Jared sighs, “Jen,” and he’s fucking back into that throat by now, Jensen’s head gently in his huge palms, Jared’s glutes working with his shallow thrusts. Jensen’s in heaven, flushed hot and drooling and Jeff didn’t even notice him switching from squatting to kneeling, but he does notice that available hand sneaking around Jensen’s cock, thick and ready poking out of that merely-undone jeans fly. Jeff spits into his hand some more. Underhand grip, a twitch in his nuts. God. Yeah, that’s the stuff.
They escalate quickly from there on. Practice shows how fucking familiar they are with each other: Jensen, rising while still sucking and Jared, helping, sinking his ass onto the bed. He rolls his hips, one hand keeping Jensen’s head where it is while Jensen shoves his jeans and briefs all the way down, works the buttons of his shirt open. “Jen,” again, soft and coarse and ‘Jen’ is right there, his mouth sloppy and red with use but he climbs Jared like he’s about to put a baby in him instead, grabbing and straddling and Jared can just hang back and grope, roam—his knees fall open and his fanned-wide fingers push along all that newly bared skin on Jensen’s back, the undone shirt quickly removed by an impatient Jensen and then Jensen knocks the guy fully onto the bed, a soft unf but Jensen eats at that pretty mouth again right away, not missing a beat.
Jeff finds himself saying, “I got it, one second,” and gets up on weak legs to unearth the lube from the bedside drawer, tosses it towards the couple on his bed and slumps right back into the damn chair. Jensen gives him a look but Jeff smirks, shakes his head. Huffs, “I’m good, baby,” his fist firm on his wet dick, the heat sitting low in his gut. Jensen’s eyes pan back to the guy he’s making out with and he operates the pump container once, twice, before he tosses it again, reaches behind himself to get himself wet. Jared grunts, worms his hand—between them, grabs his cock to hold it up, and Jeff sees him vibrate with the quick, efficient swirl of that artificially slick hand on that first half of it, dark red and straining, all worries left aside.
Jeff groans in second-hand bliss as Jared fails to muffle the deep moan of Jensen, sinking down on him. Wrapping him up nice and snug, mumbling, “G-get… You get on top, in—in a second, all right?” and Jared just nods, blind and gasping and kissing, then, wet and long and Jensen makes a big, good sound once he’s taken most of it, rocks hitched and patient and slides his knees wider, more comfortably, and Jared—paws at all that ass, that darling back and those legs, and humps up into him just-so. Careful, because he knows just how far Jensen’s gonna let him get away with shit, and Jeff—drifts, salivates already. He’s well on his way to a spectacular nut himself, and he’s not even on that fucking bed.
God, do these two fuck.
Once Jensen gets his will and can just lay back and moan his head off while Jared presumably punches all those lights out (no wonder with how fucking deep that cock can reach), Jeff decides that yeah, nope, he’s gonna come all over his own hand and that’ll be a-okay. Jared lays into Jensen like he’s trying to best some kind of highscore, and it’s not a graceful technique or much technique at all, but with a cock like that, you can’t exactly miss—and, wow, Jensen sure fucking loves it.
Grunts for, “Yes, fuck, yeah,” with his fist blurry on his cock he’s jerking it so fast, one of his bowlegs hooked over Jared’s straining shoulder and his whole body coiled tight with pleasure, the obviously impending orgasm. “Fuck, fuck, give it to me, a-almost—!”
Jeff comes together with his husband, because that’s just how much of a sap he is.
Intense, and a lot of it, and Jeff hears Jared roar underneath it all, the violent slams of skin on skin choking up before Jared shouts, “Fuck, shit!” and Jensen moans anew, long and low with Jared shuddering on top of him, his cute little ass working just about as hard as his taint, probably—Jeff wolf-grins, laughs. High, happy.
After the shower, downstairs, Jeff teases, “If those end up being her first words, we’re in trouble, y’know,” and Jared flushes and insists, “She wasn’t even awake before I got her up,” and Avery suckles loudly on her bottle, hungry and peaceful and still red-cheeked from sleep, her big, green eyes wide and searching. Jeff snickers and pets that chubby little face, his tiny daughter’s diaper-wrapped butt bouncing on Jared’s thick thigh; boxer shorts and a fresh shirt from the closet, one of Jensen’s, because they gotta take care of laundry sometime soon… The shower goes on upstairs. Jensen, finally able to move again. Jeff snorts, proceeds to raid the fridge. His little pillow princess.
“So! You think it took, or?”
Jared splutters. Jeff turns back towards him, grinning, a jug of milk in his hand.
“Or do you guys wanna try again later? Just to make sure?”
~
Just like he did during Jensen’s first pregnancy, Jared kind of…disappears. Not as badly as before thanks to Avery, but it’s noticeable. And Jensen tries to downplay it, just like last time: leave him alone. He needs ‘time’. He needs ‘space’. Bullshit.
Jared’s freaking out within the comfort of his own home, is what he’s doing. Making mountains out of fucking molehills, again, like the last almost-two years of everything and everyone being perfectly fucking fine were wiped from his hard drive. The problem with Jensen on the other hand is: he won’t let you know he’s hurt until it’s way too late. Jeff’s been there. And while his husband insists over and over again that Jared’s ‘gonna come around, don’t worry about it’, Jeff nods along with all that crap while he texts Jared to fucking haul ass over here, pronto. And then, when he’s back in their house and can gaze longingly at the baby bump that isn’t even showing that much yet, then things are all right again.
While Jeff agrees that Jensen’s got that positive ‘glow’ around him—which is only because he got what he wanted like the spoiled brat Jared sometimes neglects to admit to himself his ‘bestie’ is, really—but nobody’s got a literal hard-on for it quite like Jared does. Jeff’s always suspected that under all that higher-than-thou education must lie a more primal equivalent to complete the picture. Turns out the kid has so much ‘appreciation’ for Jensen’s pregnant body going on that he can barely keep his hands to himself once he’s within its vague vicinity. Well. Explains the whole keeping his distance thing.
Two trimesters in, Jensen is just as huge as he was with Avery. Just as snappy, too. And just as fucking insatiable. Sexually and culinary.
So, after a long night of writing and Jared sleeping over ‘to look after Avery’ (who sleeps through the night like an angel, lately, mind you) for the umpteenth time this month, Jeff’s husband joins him in the kitchen conspicuously relaxed and rested at the crack of dawn. And Jeff gets a kiss, he does, before Jensen inevitably waddles to the well-stocked fridge, but just like Jared, Jensen likes to keep to himself, and Jeff’s had about enough.
“So. Are you just gonna keep using that baby as a cover to sleep with him, or are y’all finally gonna come out and say you want more than that?”
Jensen turns on his heels, the shock obvious on his face and the jar of pickled cucumbers firm in his grip.
Jeff sips the lukewarm rest of his current coffee with a pointedly high brow.
After a moment: “Uhm. That’s not what I…”
Jensen fiddles with the jar.
Jeff tries to stay patient. He really does. But everything’s got its limits.
“Look, I think it’s time for that little coop situation he suggested a million years ago. You, me, him—let’s just do that and see how it feels. I know you two got one hell of a head start with each other, but did that resolve anything? Nah. Y’all just keep pussyfooting around in my damn house, and frankly, I’ve had enough of that kindergarten crap. You can’t just keep having baby after baby just to keep him by your side. I mean, you could, but—don’t. For my sake.”
Jensen’s cheeks turn a healthier color through Jeff’s little monologue. He sluggishly helps himself to a pickle and begins to chew it to buy himself more time.
“…Jensen Ross.”
“Fine! Fine.”
Jensen rolls his eyes like he’s the one doing Jeff a favor here. He gestures with the half-eaten pickle. He’s so fucking flustered under his flimsy little morning robe (with nothing underneath, Jeff presumes, since Jensen ‘runs hot’ just like he did with Avery) that he shoves Jeff’s hand away when it threatens to tease into the split middle of it, up his thigh—scandalized, like Jeff can’t see him getting hard just for the mention of them screwing Jared together.
“We’ll—have to ask him, first, though.”
“Oh, yeah, sure, as if he’d reject a single filthy idea coming from that mouth of yours…”
“You know, I think you underestimate the delicacy of this situation…”
“Aw, boo-hoo—he feels guilty about pining for a married man, what’s that to do with delicacy? Tale as old as freaking time, sweetheart.”
Jeff cuts off Jensen’s attempt to open his mouth and protest with a pointed smack to his ass that makes the whole man jump. And, consecutively, jiggle.
Jensen pouts. Jeff pouts back.
“You in the mood yet, or?”
“You’re horrible sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?”
Jensen grumbles, “All the time,” and gives Jeff the kiss he silently demands just by puckering up. Jensen grunts sweet for that next tap to his ass.
Jeff ponders, “Maybe you should go wake him up. With your mouth,” while he searches Jensen’s heated face, the still-there struggle in his expression. The soft knit to his brows, the unwilling twitch to the corner of his mouth. Jensen shakes his head, presses up against Jeff’s side. Jeff rubs that lower back, the sleek silk robe between them. “Work?”
“Hm.”
“Shame. Another time, then.”
A soft kiss to Jensen’s knuckles. Jeff continues along that (bared) neck, the onset of a shoulder he pushes that robe away from. Curious eyes; Jensen trembles. Delicacy, yes, but not where Jensen might expect it.
“We can ask him together. Next time he’s over, we break out that wine he likes, light up the fireplace… Whole nine. I ain’t beyond romance, Jensen. For a cause.”
“A ‘cause’, huh.”
“Well, that boy’s a cause if I ever saw one.”
“You just wanna see how far you can push him.”
“Hmm. Something like that.”
“More like how far he’s gonna let you push into him, huh?”
“I mean, if he’s into that. Sure.”
Jensen snorts. They’re holding hands at this point. Horrible. Jeff can’t stop smiling.
After a moment, Jensen hums, “Pretty far. Speaking from experience,” and Jeff play-pretend gasps, curls his arm even tighter around his love.
“Jensen Ross! You nasty sonofabitch…”
“Hey, what can I say: I’m good.”
“You sure fucking are,” says Jeff, kissing. Humming. God.
Yeah, yeah, maybe it’s better if, this morning, he’s got Jensen to himself.
~
They break that boy three glasses of wine and one heavy make-out session with Jensen in.
When poor Jared’s already hot and flustered and hard as a fucking rock, his dick thick and obvious where Jensen rubs him through his jeans, Jared’s eyes a little wet and pretty big as they swim back and forth between Jensen and Jeff—but he does eventually say:
“Um—yeah… Okay? If that’s… I mean… If y’all are comfortable with, uhm…!”
“More than comfortable,” Jeff tells him, and finally stands up from where he’s lounging in that armchair.
They’re on the couch, the two criminals: Jared on his back and Jensen pressed to his side, an awkward hover but his big belly nudges Jared’s perfectly flat one and that’s what keeps Jared from objecting, and both of them look up at Jeff as he steps in, one hand to Jensen’s back, a kiss to Jensen’s cheek, his mouth. Tongue, and when Jeff looks at Jared again, Jared’s still—staring. At Jeff. Down at Jeff’s mouth, just for the blink of an eye, and then he swallows. Hard.
“Should I just, uhm. I dunno what…”
Jensen’s pleased hum right next to Jeff’s ear as he leans in and stops Jared from more embarrassing babbling is about as exciting as the hitched little breath in Jared’s throat is. The soft smear of that already-kissed mouth, the unfamiliar give of it. Jared lets Jeff lick into his mouth, and it’s different here, too. Jeff hadn’t thought about it—how he’s been faithful with Jensen, that big first in a long line of miserable marriages and affairs; how there are other people to kiss, to touch. The wine in Jared spurs him to reach out, to cup Jeff’s neck—hot, careful, and as they continue to swap spit, those fingers slip to Jeff’s cheek, his beard. Carefully pat around his chin, and Jeff grins, and nudges their noses together—Jared swallows again.
Jensen helps, “He’s crazy about beards.”
“Hey…”
“What, am I wrong?”
Jared huffs, “Shut up,” and gets Jensen’s mouth, next. Gets Jeff reciprocating the touch to his face, scratching fingers into the trimmed-down yet full beard clear of gray and white, unlike Jeff’s own. Ah, that nervous bob of that Adam’s apple.
“Glad I fit your profile, kid,” and Jared cringes a little for that, still so skittish just because Jeff’s here to watch. And not only watch, no—right up in his face, standing over the couple, rubbing all that pec space hiding under Jared’s good-boy sweater. Hell, now that it’s game on, Jeff’s thoughts spiral freely. Southwards. “Hey—bedroom? I feel like we’ve been playing this third wheel thing long enough now.”
“I—of course, uhm, sorry—”
Jensen chuckles. “Relax, man.” Jeff helps him get up.
“No need to apologize.”
Jeff could make a joke about how unsteady Jared is on his feet, how, heh, big guy, all that circulation is busy somewhere else, huh? But he can behave. At least until they reach the bedroom.
Avery’s with her grandparents and Jeff says, “Get that big dick out, kid, come on. Let’s see it,” right against not-his-husband’s mouth, his hand on that bulge, helping with the zipper. Jared swallows but obeys, shudders a little more once Jensen fits himself up against his back, chin on his shoulder, grinning. Jeff grins back, kisses that warm mouth. Jared huffs, sandwiched between them, while he continues to struggle with his zipper. Jeff slides one hand to that perky tiny ass to squeeze it and hums with appreciation as he finally gets to worm his fingers into that open fly.
“Mmh, good boy… Jesus.”
Jeff laughs. Strokes, blinks—gets one careful Jared-paw to his own crotch, watches those eyes swimming while Jared feels out what his little bird’s husband is packing. More fingers join Jeff’s on Jared’s dick. Decisively not his own.
Jeff hums, “Why don’t you get comfortable, sweetheart? Get out of that pretty dress shirt so dear Jared can see your tits better?” and Jared’s lashes flutter, and Jensen moves right away—show-offish in that boyish-girlish way of his, and Jeff’s always thought he was made for the camera. That shirt goes. The nursing bra.
“Y’all just gonna stand there, or?”
Jeff snickers and Jared says nothing at all, just steps in with Jeff’s fist still firm on his cock. Jared sighs as his hands find Jensen’s bare curves, as their mouths push together. Jeff helps Jared out of his sweater and the sweaty shirt underneath, kisses the back of a shoulder, of a neck. Gets a small, “Fuck,” for his troubles, a twitch to that nervous belly as Jeff’s hand slides back to the root of that cock, as Jeff fingers that navel with his other hand. “Fuck, this is so…!”
“Hot? Fantastic?”
Jensen offers, “We can stop,” and Jared shakes his head, scoops that face into his hands to kiss Jensen anew, to let him know how close to the truth Jeff’s hints were. Jeff drags his teeth along that bare shoulder just to feel Jared react (oh boy, sensitive…or just jumpy; Jeff gladly takes whatever).
“Nah, baby… Good ol’ Jared here’s better than good, aren’t you? C’mon—” a hearty smack to that rear “—jeans off, shoes off. Both of you.”
“And you’re gonna reciprocate when?”
“Now, who’s the impatient one?” Jeff snickers, begins to unbutton his shirt. With two sets of eyes on him. Hmm. Yeah, that’s nice. “You can have everything you want, Jay, just gotta ask… Well, maybe not everything-everything, I doubt my ass can take all of that without a week of foreplay…”
“Uhm, I—wanna blow you,” blurts one already shoes-free Jared, and Jeff and Jensen exchange a glance, and Jeff steps in on the guy shucking out of his jeans on their marital bed, steps his legs apart. Nods towards his middle.
“Get to it, then. I’m all yours.”
Jensen hums, “Fuck,” while Jared doesn’t waste any time. He’s got Jeff unzipped and peels his cock from where it was trapped against the inside of his thigh (there are nice jeans and there are comfortable jeans, okay?) with one hand because the other slides right to Jensen who kneels up on the bed next to Jared, cards his hair out of his burning face for him and bumps that huge belly against that shoulder.
It’s Jeff who’s getting a nice pair of lips wrapped around his cock, but Jensen is the one groaning for it.
Again, “Fuck,” and, “Baby,” and Jeff’s eyes flutter shut because why not, and Jensen’s little boy toy shuts his eyes and goes all in—eager, and Jeff appreciates that, rakes his fingers into all that hair where Jensen’s aren’t already. Jared’s warming him up to it, slides his mouth back and forth to the point where Jeff’s almost-breaching the back of that throat. That hand drops from Jeff’s dick to Jeff’s nuts, wrestles those out of that fly as well to cradle them; so well-trained… Jeff rewards by pulling him in, stepping forward. Jared splutters. Jeff and Jensen keep his jerking head right where it is.
Jeff huffs, “You’re good at that,” and Jensen licks his pretty lip while he watches Jared’s nose squishing into his husband’s pubes, and Jeff—loves him, so fucking much. Twin-wets his own lip, opens his mouth to order Jared to—oh, he’s already at it. Ah, gorgeous. “Hmm. Two dicks for you to take care of. That make you happy, huh? You ever done something like this?”
They let him up just enough for him to get some air, cough away some of that ache. He shakes his red-and-redder head before he kindly holds still for Jeff to thumb away those reflex-tears. Goes back down, no outside prompt whatsoever. Jeff chuckles, surprised. Fuck. Yeah, okay, fuck, maybe Jensen’s even more in the right to be head over heels for this one as previously assumed.
“You wanna get on all fours for us? Over here, so you two can keep going while I eat you out?”
Jared makes a noise around Jeff’s cock while Jeff is free to hiss his laughter, rub that sweaty back of that head. “Yeah, c’mon. You heard the man… Damn, do I wanna see that, baby…” Once they’re in position: “Who in the hell allowed you to be that fucking hot?”
Jensen just grins. Huffs, sweet, comfortably kneeling on the carpeted floor and his baby nestled against the side of the bed, one hand on his dick and the other on Jared’s lower back, his eyes
drifting shut as he noses in where Jared offers himself, clumsy-looking just because he’s so long but he straightens once Jeff’s got his hand back in that hair, Jared’s hot throat already pushed open by Jeff’s cock again. Jared tries to take a full breath through his nose but, under the combined assault, only manages a weak hitch.
Jared has to stay almost belly-to-bed for the height to work out, but he doesn’t seem to have a problem with sliding his knees that wide, so…!
“Damn. That’s a sight.”
Jared makes a noncommittal sound while Jeff fucks his face all slow and indulgent. They’re just getting started, and Jeff’s hard enough to pound nails. Grunts, shoves his jeans lower—watches himself sawing into that willing mouth, the tremble of Jared’s huge back while Jensen frenches his asshole with a dedication Jeff knows all-too-well. Jeff licks his chops, wants—wants. All of it. Both of them.
“You gonna let me go first, hm? Or should he break you open for me?”
Jared’s garbled response sounds vaguely human at best, and Jeff’s a bastard but he pulls back just long enough to give Jared a chance.
“I’m—f-fuck, I don’t care, anything is…!”
Jeff laughs. “Slut.”
Jared moans for the violent push back inside, the tightening grip in his hair. Interesting.
“Sweetheart, you go first, I don’t mind waiting…when waiting’s as sweet as this, at least.”
Jensen comes up humming, fingering after where spit still strings between his lips and Jared’s ass. He’s gorgeous, the flush high on his cheeks and his eyes all dark, the freckles a weak contrast to his skin in these depths of summer. With obvious strain, Jensen pushes to a stand, pulses his hand one pointed, last time before he plucks his fingers out of Jared’s ass. A playful smack, and then Jensen waddles to the nightstand—lube, right. God, Jensen’s cock. Surreal, under his huge belly, and this pregnancy has got him more whiney than the last, has him sore in places he’d rather not discuss, but apparently, Jared doesn’t mind having the tables turned on him for a bit… Jensen had told Jeff, upon inquiring: how nervous Jared had been. Eager, but nervous. And how fucking hard he came with Jensen’s dick up his ass, just a bit of spit in the fist stroking him in tune with Jensen’s careful (and then not so careful) thrusts…!
“Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
“I dunno. ’Cause you were a chicken about it, probably.”
Jeff snorts, “Me? Never,” while his oh-so clever husband maneuvers Jared’s hips higher, slicks himself with a healthy amount of lube, the sound slobber-inducing not only in Jeff, if Jeff had to guess… Yeah, no, he can feel that, positively so, and he grunts, reminds himself to pace himself unless he wants to end this show prematurely.
Doesn’t help that Jensen lines himself up, tries to push his baby bump out of the way to see what he’s doing. That he asks, “Okay?” like Jared’s not arching his back for it, like anyone in this room would tell him to stop touching them. Jeff watches the exact moment Jensen finds his mark, how he shudders and perks all over, his nipples already huge and dark and his lashes fluttering, a low noise in his chest…
Jared tenses, not only around Jeff’s cock. Jensen slides both hands around that itty-bitty waist to slide home easy (albeit careful, slow).
Jeff praises, “That’s it,” balls-deep in that throat, contributing loving pets to that head, that cheek. “There you go, good boy… So good for us, aren’t you? God, best idea ever…!”
Jared of course isn’t very verbal in his response but he splutters all cute once Jensen bottoms out, rocks a few times and now sneaks one hand below Jared’s belly to stroke him, makes it all better.
“Bet you feel so good,” Jeff continues, soft. “Bet you’re so tight on that gorgeous dick; you love it, don’t you?”
Jensen sighs, “He does,” and, “and he is,” and Jared makes a noise, choked-off and low, and Jeff is so horny it’s not even funny anymore.
This was supposed to be for them, goddammit.
Jeff has to uproot his dick from that way-too-talented throat only a few minutes into him and Jensen spit-roasting this glorified sperm donor of theirs and Jensen snickers, cruel, humping away.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing… Heh.”
A last pet to Jared’s head later, Jeff’s rounded the corner of the bed; slides his fingers between Jensen’s cheeks instead, roams Jared’s sweaty back with the other. Jensen’s rhythm stumbles as he hisses.
“That sore?”
Jensen makes a face. Jeff’s brows rise high.
“Want me to stop?”
More grimacing and, ultimately, “No,” small and whiney and Jeff gives his sweetheart a long kiss for it, licks into him until he’s moaning again, two fingers up his ass. Jeff pulls them out to feel around where Jensen’s screwing the kid, where they’re sloppy with lube Jeff can borrow. Jensen’s eyes roll a bit more relaxed, after. Trembles through distracted sucks on Jeff’s tongue, churning himself into Jared’s welcoming body.
Sighed, “You’re so fucking hot,” and both Jeff and Jensen chuckle; Jensen’s hand returns to that waist as Jared fumbles to take over, eyes closed. His cheek burns red, the other presses into the bed, his hair a lost cause. Jeff hums, massages all that rippling muscle landscape curling for more.
“Don’t think I’ve seen him cream you up before.”
“God, Jeff…”
“Think I wanna see that.”
Jensen blabbers, “I ain’t sure if I,” but Jared’s groan and the immediate lift and ensuing struggle to flip them over are heated enough to change any slut’s mind, apparently.
Jeff laughs, “Easy, tiger,” and helps, Jensen now gloriously on his back, his belly just—huge, between them, and Jeff doesn’t necessarily get off on this shit but seeing Jared breathless and drooling for it does its part.
The cant in that breaking voice as Jared blurts, “You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” and Jensen cringes and wrings his arms around that neck, his leg hooked over Jared’s arm and Jeff rubs between those clenching cheeks as Jared shuffles into position, hurried and starved and God, he’s so open, Jeff can just…! Jared grunts, caught off guard, and then Jensen gasps, because—yeah. Yeah, there’s his special boy, right there.
“F-fuck…!”
“Are you…? Is this…?”
A smack to Jared’s back and a groaned, “Fucking move, goddammit, g-get it…! Ow, fuck, fuck…!”
Jeff bark-laughs and Jared splutters helplessly, ruts forward further and further as Jensen claws into him, rocks to meet him while cursing, shaking. His noises really leave you guessing whether he wants it in or out, but he wrangles his and Jared’s mouths together to kiss and shut him up from further useless questions, so that’s that. Jeff feels Jared flexing inside, the doubled tease of cramming his cock into something swollen-soft and wet and a pair of knowing fingers sawing counter-rhythmic into his well-fucked asshole. Jared steadies his knees into the bed to pick up the pace (already), and Jeff’s gotta get his hand on his own cock or he’s gonna lose it.
Or, well, there’s somewhere nicer to be than the palm of his own hand.
“Scoot over… Yeah, just like that… Just like fucking that, Jared…!”
“Guh—f-fuck—!”
Jensen has the wherewithal to gasp, “Fuck, ohmygod,” while Jared’s shock melts into a whimper, while Jeff grunts with the strain of the weird-ass position, the angle it takes for him to get all up in there—he thumbs at the taut stretch of Jared’s asshole, the slick, nervous tremor of it, and Jared gasps, “Fuck, fuck, don’t, d-don’t,” but Jeff’s only a guy, and if he doesn’t move, he’s gonna crawl out of his skin.
So, he does that. Rears back to slam in, no restraints because why should he, Jared’s all soft and open and groans, long and loud while holding himself still so Jeff can plow him that much easier. From under them, Jensen stammers some more, slurred and raw, but Jeff can ask him once he’s got this nut out of his system. Waiting is no longer an option. Not with Jared shaking the fuck apart between them.
“Fuck,” and, “fuck, yeah, take it,” and both hands on that waist, just like Jensen did it, and it’s the perfect handle like that, Jared’s groaning, slim body rippling around Jeff’s cock as he pistons into him, a selfish chase because why the fuck not, there can always be a second time…or a third. Or however many.
Jeff leans down, already straining but fuck it, he’s gonna collapse on the bed once he’s done here and it’s gonna be fine.
Up against that ear, growling: “And you’re gonna get him off, next. Gonna let him blow in this tight little ass as well, you hear me?” and Jared moans for it, wild and still writhing with it, Jensen’s creamed-up insides gripping him and Jensen’s belly and Jensen’s hard-on and Jensen’s humming mouth against him, glowing with heat, slick with all of their sweat. God. Jeff’s doctor is gonna chew him out for this kind of strenuous shit.
If anything’s worth a couple of strained muscles, though, it’s this.
This, and Jared’s sore little, “Yes, yes; fuck, Jeff.” Heh.
Yeah.
~
Breakfast is only a little more awkward than usual.
Jeff’s already popped a bunch of Advil as Jared descends the stairs last, freshly showered. A little less spring in his step than Jeff remembers, but he might be seeing things. He can’t help but grin, and Jared pointedly ignores that as he comes over, fishes for toast and coffee.
A tender pat and drag of that hand, though, along Jeff’s hunched shoulders. Jensen pours himself and Jeff some more black gold with a face so sour it puts every lemon to shame.
“So, I won’t be sitting down this week.”
“Hey, now, drama queen—your boy here took twice the beating and look at him frolicking like a young foal!”
“Well, great, ’cause I’m out for the count for the foreseeable future.”
Grumbling, toast. Jensen puts the coffee pot down and idles awkwardly by the kitchen table. Standing. In his dumb little robe.
Eventually, uselessly, Jared offers: “Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Jeff reminds, “It kinda is, though,” and he pretends to be very invested in his coffee as Jensen glares daggers.
“Look, uhm, I’d go pick up Avery, but I no way I can drive like this… I know you’ve gotta get to work, but could you maybe…?”
No hesitation, “Of course,” and Jeff can’t even open his mouth to propose that he could go, too. Then, Jeff remembers his deadline at the end of the week. Uhm…right. Yeah, if Jared’s that eager… Why not.
“You’re an angel,” Jeff says, pointedly sweet just so Jared can laugh it off, can blush a little.
“It’s nothing.”
“Thanks, seriously.” Jensen chews, grabs the peanut butter. “Dunno what we’d do without you.”
“We’d be lost.”
“Geez, stop it… I’m glad to help where I can, you guys know that.”
“Oh, now more than ever.”
“Ha-ha.”
“Very cute, you two, but: you’ll be late for work, Jared, no offense…”
Jeff says, “Don’t worry, I think he knows you don’t want him out of the house that badly,” and Jared fumbles with his phone, his coffee—calls the university to let them know he’ll come in a bit later, family business, yadda yadda… And Jeff thinks to himself: yes. Family indeed, huh.
Jeff takes another big bite out of his toast before he can incriminate himself any further, but his smile stays with him.