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Here was the thing: Jared knew he could be a dick.
He didn’t really mean to be. He didn’t wake up in the morning and just decide to be an asshole to the people he loved. But sometimes he knew he pushed things too far and then he felt bad.
He knew he sometimes went overboard with the pranks and jokes, and damn! Could he help it if Misha was his favorite target? And it’s not like the guy just took it lying down. Misha more than gave it all right back to him. Misha had left dead fish in his car and a pile of change in his trailer the size of Mount Saint Helens.
So it was really quite established that Misha could hold his own against him. Really, that was one of the reasons why Jared liked the guy so much. Misha knew how to take a joke, how to give one back, and he was a genuine friend. He didn’t need a protector.
Try telling that to Jensen.
Besides, it had just been a pie.
But well over a year later, Jensen was still ragging on about how he had nearly broken Misha’s poor nose. With a pie. Not only that, Jensen insisted on telling everyone ELSE about it at conventions all around the world.
As if it were possible to break someone’s nose with whipped topping.
As if Jensen weren’t the one who was totally whipped.
Jared had seen the look on Jensen’s face when he had licked that dollop of cream from the corner of Misha’s mouth. He had seen the flare of possessiveness and jealousy settle over his best friend’s features.
Misha’s nose had never been in danger; that wasn’t the body part Jensen had been so worried about.
Jared could be a dick.
But he wasn’t after any.
And he definitely wasn’t after Misha’s.
Besides, all anyone had to do was watch Misha and Jensen interact for all of ten seconds to know they were completely wrapped up in each other. They looked at each other the same way Jared knew he and Genevieve looked at each other. Nothing was ever going to come in between them.
Not even pie.
Jared knew he could be a bit of a dick sometimes, but he loved his friends and wanted them to be happy. So to show there were no hard feelings, he thoughtfully supplied both Misha and Jensen’s trailers with aerosol cans of whipped cream, bottles of cherry pie flavored lube, and packages of condoms.
And to the outside of their trailer doors he taped up long, detailed, illustrated letters describing the many things they could do with each other using the various gifts he had so lovingly left for them.
Jared knew he was a good friend that way.