tebtosca

“Well, would you look at this,” Danneel announces, staring with raised eyebrows at the computer screen.

Jensen takes in what he can of her with his peripheral vision as he continues typing on his own keyboard. “You better not be looking at gay porn again on library property.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault I clicked the link Cindy emailed me,” Danneel pouts.

“Clicking anything I send you in public is never smart,” Cindy says knowingly around a mouthful of strawberry yogurt.

Jensen eyes her sitting on the circulation desk, long legs swinging. “Cindy, get off the desk before you scare away my patrons.”

Cindy answers that by leaning back to lay entirely on the desk, reaching over to bop Jensen in the nose with her spoon. “I’m an enticement! Do you think ol’ Jim and Steven come over this time everyday just to play dominoes?”

Jensen rubs yogurt off the tip of his nose and scowls at her with absolutely no heat before glancing over at the two old guys playing dominoes and grinning widely at Cindy’s prone form. “My library is not a den of depravity for you to revel in, Cindy.”

“Oooh, den of depravity! Dan, did you hear that? That’s even better than last week’s sanctuary of sin!” Cindy crows, grunting a bit as she uses her core to lift herself back up into a sitting position. She digs into her yogurt with abandon while wiggling her eyebrows at a very appreciative Jim and Steven.

“You’re moving up in the world, Cin,” Danneel replies wryly, taking a big bite out of her ham sandwich.

“If you get mayonnaise on that Tolstoy I’m banning you both for life!” Jensen warns.

“I bet there is someone out there that would be totally turned on by that sentence,” Danneel drawls, mid-chew.

Jensen bites his lip, refusing to give her any satisfaction by laughing. “Are you going to tell us what got you so excited before or are we supposed to wait for you to further desecrate all Russian literature?”

Danneel waves her sandwich at the computer monitor in front of her. “So I was on that geeky literary gossip site you have bookmarked—“

“He has one for opera gossip too, if you’re looking for that extra nerd factor,” Cindy points out, ignoring Jensen’s scowl.

“--and it says here that Genevieve just broke up with Misha Collins!” Danneel finishes, eyes dancing with the schadenfreude that comes with being catty about other people’s lives.

Jensen swallows, a strange sensation warring with the chili from the Roadhouse Diner he just ate for lunch. “She did, huh?”

“Yeah, and it also says that she’s coming back to Texas to stay with her parents for a while,” Danneel continues, and Jensen doesn’t miss the look she exchanges with Cindy.

“I wonder what Jared thinks about that,” Cindy says with her best attempt at innocence. Unfortunately, that’s not exactly her forte.

“Not that you care what Jared thinks, of course,” Danneel says slyly, not even trying to mimic Cindy’s attempt. She licks mayo off her fingertips daintily.

The girls have been Jensen’s best friends since they were five years old, when Cindy tried to steal Jensen’s GI Joe and Danneel almost ripped one of Cindy’s pigtails out to avenge him. And yet, right in this moment, he wishes that he could banish them to another state so he would never have to hear the word “Jared” cross their lips again. A futile wish, obviously.

“Yeah, Jared must be…” Cindy starts again and Jensen wants to push her off the desk. Surely Jim and Steven will come to her rescue.

Jared Padalecki is the scourge of Jensen Ackles’ existence. No, he really is. Tall and long and always covered in dust. Stupid bright smile. Stupid shaggy hair. Stupid sexy drawl. Stupid oblivious way of never noticing just how much Jensen is completely and stupidly infatuated with him. Yes, Jared Padalecki is…

….Jared Padalecki is walking through the library doors and right towards the circulation desk.

Jensen’s life sucks.

“Well, this should be fun,” Danneel snorts as they watch Jared stop to give his regards to Jim and Steven, make shy, young Julie McNiven and her mother blush by kissing their hands, and even help little Colin Ford with one of his algebra problems.

It takes Jared seven minutes to get through the throng of his adoring fans before he makes it to the desk. Jensen spends that time alternating between scoffing inwardly and attempting not to turn bright red.

Jared never comes into the library. This is Jensen’s turf, his sanctuary, the one goddamn place that’s supposed to be Padalecki-proof. But no, here he is, staring down at Jensen with a grin like the sun and smudges of dirt on his flannel. He tips his cowboy hat at the girls and Jensen tries to keep himself from swooning by reminding himself what a fucking cliché Jared is.

“Miss Sampson, Miss Harris. How is it you ladies get prettier and prettier every time I see you?”

Cindy pushes her boobs out farther, Danneel honest-to-god giggles, and Jensen starts plotting the best way to will himself into disappearing from the face of the earth. If he had ruby slippers on, he’d be clicking away right now.

“Well, well, Jared Padalecki, you dirty charmer. Where have you been hiding yourself?” Cindy purrs, legs swinging again. Her Texas comes out when she’s attempting to be sexy and Jensen nearly rolls his eyes. He loves the girl but she would hit on an ATM if she thought it could afford to take her to dinner.

Jared grins down at her from his full ten-foot-whatever height. “Keeping busy at the ranch, you know how it goes. Cattle to wrangle, horses to ride.”

Jensen absolutely does not think about Jared Padalecki riding anything.

“So what brings you into town now then? Decided to finally learn how to read? “Jensen says, attempting to keep his voice a degree under scathing. He pushes his wire-rimmed glasses further up his nose and tries to look both commanding and nonchalant.

Danneel elbows him in his side but Jensen ignores her, preferring to hold Jared’s now steady stare. Jensen will not blink, dammit, he will not blin—shit, he totally blinks.

The corners of Jared’s mouth turn up smugly when Jensen breaks the gaze. “While that whole fancy ‘reading words’ thing might be fun some other time, I’ve actually come to ask Jensen here for a favor.”

That manages to elicit a gasp of surprise out of all three of them, but Jensen manages to turn the coolness back on. He turns to look at the girls. “Ladies, I think lunch time is over. Get going and don’t scare any of my patrons on the way out.”

“Jen!” Cindy protests and Danneel tries to pout in solidarity, but Jensen is firm. There is no way in hell he’s going to play out whatever scenario Jared has in his head in front of these two.

Jared just puts on that stupid smile of his and tips his hat as the girls pass by him to leave. When they are fully out of earshot, he turns back to Jensen. “Long time no see, Jensen.”

“I’ve been busy. Running this place isn’t easy you know, even if it’s not as exciting as rolling around in mud,” Jensen huffs defensively. The proudest moment of his life was when Samantha Smith retired early to play happy homemaker when she married Sheriff Morgan and handed over the reins of the library to him. He’ll fight anyone that tries to disparage what he’s worked hard for.

“Hey now, I save all the rolling around in mud for Chad. He’s lower to the ground and all,” Jared replies, and his voice is so amused that it grates over Jensen’s entire being.

“Right,” Jensen says dumbly, and he can feel the awkwardness creeping in. He wishes he knew how to talk to Jared. Everyone in the goddamn county can talk to Jared, but every time Jensen wants to try he ends up sounding either petulant or mocking. He knows it’s a defense mechanism, but it’s been sitting there for the last ten years, so it’s damn hard to turn off.

“Right,” Jared repeats, and the stupid smile falters for a moment. It’s like the sun going behind a cloud and it makes Jensen sad despite himself.

He brushes it off and steels himself for whatever Jared is going to ask him. “So you had a favor to ask? I think it’s a little late for me to tutor you in English Lit.”

The sun returns and Jensen can’t fight the thrill that rises up in his belly.

“I need your help,” Jared says and Jensen cocks an eyebrow incredulously.

“What could I possibly help you with?”

“Genevieve is coming back to town.”

The thrill in Jensen’s belly dies a bitter death.

He just barely keeps the sour look off his face. He’s not being fair. He knows it but he can’t help it. Jealousy runs deep. “So I’ve heard. Not sure what that has to do with me.”

Jared looks uncertain again and Jensen doesn’t know how to help him this time. Just like that, Jared’s face is that of the fourteen-year-old transfer student standing in front of Ms. Rhodes’ English class, staring out at twelve kids who’d been together since birth. Jared had just stood there then, all gangly elbows and bangs and plaid, as Ms. Rhodes pushed him gently forward with a hand between his shoulder blades. It was probably the first and last time Jensen ever thought he looked shy. And that moment, well, there was never a more beautiful sight in all of Jensen’s memories.

Before Jared even got a word out edgewise, Cindy had yelled out “What’s the name of your horse, cowboy?” which ended in her cutting her lip on her braces and bleeding out all over Danneel’s trapper-keeper. Talk about an ice-breaker. Jared Padalecki had just laughed in surprise and never looked shy again.

Until right now. “I need you to teach me how to be a right proper gentleman.”

Jensen almost swallows his tongue. Out of all the doomsday scenarios that run though his head, that was definitely not one of them. “What the hell for?”

Jared laughs. “If you keep cussing like that, maybe I should go somewhere else to learn some manners!”

Jensen snaps his mouth shut after realizing he looks like guppy. Then understanding sets in and he’s suddenly, irrevocably, irrationally furious. “You want me to teach you some refinement so that Genevieve and her ritzy family will stop rejecting you.”

Jensen knows he’s being mean, can feel the acid in the words on the tip of his tongue, but the sting of ten years of longing can’t be salved with kindness and understanding.

Jared looks stricken but manages to recover just in time to answer him with steel in his voice. “Yes, Jensen. Exactly that.”

Jensen wants to say no. Actually, he wants to say “Jared Padalecki, you sonovabitch, get your hide out of my library!”

Instead he says: “I’ll think about it.”

“You’ll think about it?” Jared repeats.

Grins.

Sunshine.

Stupid.

Jensen melts. Just a little. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. My calendar is very busy, thank you very much.”

Interplanetary solar event.

Stupider.

“I can deal with that, Mr. Social Butterfly.”

“I’m not a butterfly.”

“Are moths more manly?”

“Shut your mouth and get out of my library before I call Sheriff Morgan.”

Jared laughs with such abandon that Jensen knows he’s going to give in eventually.

Stupidest.

“Did you hear Genevieve Cortese is coming back to town?” Alona gossips, chomping her gum as she plops a plate full of chicken fried steak down in front of Jensen.

Jensen slouches down in the booth with a sigh. “See, this is the problem with tiny little towns like ours: everyone chews the same damn bit of info like a puppy with some rawhide. Well let me be the first one to say it: bad puppy, bad!”

Alona looks at him, unimpressed. With a shrug she heads off back to the counter to refill coffee cups for Sheriff Morgan and Deputy Cohen.

Cindy dips one of her French fries in Jensen’s gravy and chews, looking at him knowingly. “So I guess that means the thing with Jared went badly, huh?”

“There is no thing with Jared. You two are so dramatic,” Jensen huffs, hitting Cindy’s hand with his fork when she goes back in for some of his mashed potatoes.

“What was the favor he asked you? C’mon, Jen, stop being coy,” Danneel demands, kicking him in the shin under the table.

“Ow! Stop abusing me with law enforcement sitting right over there. One little ‘help me, Officer!’ and it’s the big house for you,” Jensen snarls.

“Oh please, Cindy blew Matt Cohen behind the bleachers when we were like sixteen. She’s my insurance policy against any form of retaliation from the law, no matter what I do,” Danneel grins and Cindy just mimes her very best blowjob skills.

The three of them burst out laughing and Jensen feels calm for the first time since before Jared walked through those library doors. Sitting here at the Roadhouse Diner on a typical Friday night, in the booth that’s been theirs since senior year, is a comfortable thing, one born of tradition and friendship. Jensen doesn’t have to think about how it makes him feel or if it’s going to change from one week to the next. Sam Ferris, the owner, will greet them with a “You be good now, kids” and a smirk on her face when they walk in; Alona, the lone waitress, will roll her eyes and pretend she hasn’t been crushing on Jensen since middle school; Crazy Dick, the town eccentric, will sip sweet tea in the corner while talking happily to himself and playing Go Fish; Sheriff Morgan will play a few hands with him before winking and heading home to his lady; Cindy will slip off after dinner to work her shift as a bartender at Kane’s as Danneel tags along to flirt and pretend she’s not having a semi-secret love affair with Kane’s best friend Steve.

That’s a Friday night in sleepy little Bacon, Texas. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Jensen likes order. He likes monotony and continuity and knowing exactly what to expect from his day and his life.

Genevieve Cortese coming back to town fucks all that up, and it’s not even remotely her fault.

If Jared transferring into Singer High School was the first big event in Jensen’s young life, then Genevieve transferring in on the cusp of their junior year was the kicker. Genevieve came from a family spoiled with the riches that only Big Oil can provide. Her daddy was based out of New York for the first sixteen years of her life, so she was raised as a city girl, a private-schooled socialite with all the attributes that entailed. But when her uncle--who was in charge of the Texas side of operations-- passed on, her family transferred and there she suddenly was. Living in that big estate right on the outskirts of town; front and center in English class without even needing Ms. Rhodes’ hand to push her forward in reassurance. Stupid light in stupid Jared Padalecki’s stupid eyes.

Jensen wanted to hate her, he did. But “Gen” was sweet and polite, pretty and shiny-haired (“overabundance of biotin,” Danneel guessed with awe), smart and proper. She offered to give Jensen her potato chips at lunch that first day, and he ran out of the cafeteria in such a flustered rage that he almost missed her giving them to Jared instead.

Danneel tapping her fingernails on the countertop brought him back to reality. “It’s not his fault, Jen.”

Jensen flushes to the roots of his hair. He knows he’s being ridiculous, but he feels like a teenager again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cindy’s voice is serious, but her eyes are kind. “You never gave either of them a chance. I mean, we love you and we get it, but neither of them is to blame for how much it hurts.”

Jensen’s eyes start tingling and he curses fucking Jared Padalecki and his stupid smile for making him feel like this, even when he knows Cindy is absolutely right.

Fortunately, Crazy Dick decides he’s bored with playing by himself and propositions Deputy Cohen, and between Sam’s hysterical laughter and the Deputy waving his nightstick around, the tension at their table is broken.

“I’m going to do it,” Jensen announces suddenly.

“Do what?” Danneel asks, turning away from the fray and back to him.

Jensen swallows, but even his own spit tastes bitter. “I’m going to help Jared get Genevieve to fall in love with him.”

“Oh, Jen,” Danneel’s sighs softly.

“Your problem is that you’re a heathen.”

Jared eyes Jensen warily. “I am, am I?”

Jensen confirms with a nod. “For example, where were you this morning?”

Jared shrugs. “Working on the ranch, same as any other morning.”

Jensen smirks. “Exactly. It’s not any other morning, Jared. It’s Sunday morning and that means you should have been at church with the rest of the town.”

Well, besides the Rosenbaums, of course. But they own the best barbeque joint in Bacon so Jensen’s sure God’ll give them a little leeway.

Jared lets out a full-bellied guffaw that makes Jensen’s toes curl up with anger. “Why, Jensen Ackles! Look at you worrying about my immortal soul. If I didn’t know better I’d think you liked me.”

Jensen turns bright red. “I don’t like you in the least. I’m just doing this to show you an example of good Christian charity.”

Jared stills and just grins. Stupid, smug bastard.

Jensen doesn’t really care about the church thing beyond it being something that you do when you live in a small town in Texas. In fact, he thinks the things he’s wishing he could do to Jared on top of the circulation desk would take a lot more than barbeque to get over.

Not that Jensen’s kept it much of a secret that he’s gay. Considering where they are, the town is relatively forgiving toward…alternative lifestyles, at least where their long-term residents are concerned. Hell, everyone knows that Sam Ferris from the Roadhouse and Ms. Rhodes the English teacher are “life partners.” They just don’t talk much about it, and that seems to suit everyone just fine.

Jensen swallows hard. Not talking about stuff is definitely something he’s learned to do well.

“Okay, you see all this,” Jensen starts, gesturing around at the silent library. He had figured that this would be the best place to start Jared’s refinement, and if it gave Jensen home court advantage, well, that can’t be helped. Jensen still gets a visceral thrill out of being the only one in town with a key.

Jared nods so Jensen continues. “If praying to Jesus for luck was step one, then this is step two. How long has it been since you’ve read a book that had more words than pictures in it?”

Jared’s expression is full of mock-hurt. “Hey now, stop discriminating! See Spot Run is a literary classic.”

Jensen has to stop himself from laughing. Jared is not his friend. And, yes, maybe it makes Jensen feel a little bit ashamed that there’s no one to blame for that but himself.

“I doubt someone that’s been with Misha Collins for the past three years is going to appreciate someone without a basic grasp of good literature,” Jensen points out. Jared flinches a little and Jensen is just a teeny bit pleased at that.

“Misha Collins is a pompous asshole,” Jared mutters, fiddling with the brim of his cowboy hat sitting in front of him on the table. Jensen had yelled at him for wearing it indoors the minute he walked through the door.

Jensen completely agrees, although he isn’t going to tell Jared that. The man wears velvet blazers on the back of his book covers, for God’s sake. It’s a sad day when a man gets one lousy Pulitzer nomination and then forgets all about his dignity.

“Misha Collins got a lot farther with Genevieve than you ever did, so obviously he was doing something right.”

Jensen looks Jared straight in the eye, his chin cocked in defiance, daring Jared to contradict him.

Instead, Jared deflates and slouches back in his seat. “Fine, you’re right. Where do I start?”

It’s an uneasy victory, but Jensen will take it. He leans over to grab a stack of books he’s neatly compiled and slides them over towards Jared. “Start with those.”

“Do I need to give you a book report?” Jared is back to teasing and as much as Jensen wants to pretend, it’s a relief. He takes a moment to paw through Jensen’s selections, a mix of everything from William Faulkner to McCarthy’s Blood Meridian. If nothing else comes out of this madness but a few good books in Jared’s consciousness, then so be it. The librarian in Jensen can be happy with that.

Jared holds up a book of Maya Angelou poetry with a raised eyebrow.

Jensen just shrugs. “Gen used to carry around an old paperback version of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. I’d see it sticking out of her backpack sometimes.”

Jared looks at him contemplatively. “I never noticed that.”

Jensen blushes, suddenly shy and a bit unsure. “I notice a lot of things other people don’t.”

There’s an awkward silence in the already overwhelming quiet of the library until Jared speaks.

“I just want to thank you, Jensen. I know we’ve never really been friends, and I’m not sure why that is, but I want you to know I appreciate you trying to help.”

Jensen stares at Jared and remembers what the ache of being fourteen felt like. That dichotomy of the world expanding and collapsing all in one moment.

“Gen’s worth it, right?” Jensen says softly.

“Yeah, Gen’s worth it,” Jared agrees and Jensen wishes he could believe there was a “J” in that sentence instead.

“Your second problem is that you’re loud.”

It’s four days later and Jensen has just kicked out the stragglers and locked the library doors at 5:30. Jared leans against the circulation desk like he owns the place as Jensen finishes shutting down the computers.

“Cindy’s loud,” Jared points out.

“Ah, yes, but Cindy is not trying to get in good with the Cortese family,” Jensen contradicts, stacking newly returned books neatly on a cart to restock the next day.

Jared guffaws. “You make them sound like mobsters.”

Jensen cocks and eyebrow. “They’re Big Oil. Close enough.”

“Touché,” Jared grins. “So, I’m loud.”

Jensen stops doing the busy work that is meant to distract him from how ridiculously hot Jared looks in his button-down workman’s shirt and Levi’s. He looks at Jared contemplatively.

“Yes, you’re loud. A gentleman doesn’t need to holler to get people to listen to him.”

Jared sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. “It’s not my fault my voice carries. That version of you in high school that did all them plays would appreciate it.”

Jensen looks at him with a startled expression. “You came to my plays?”

Jared has the decency to blush. “Well, not like there’s much to do in town, right? Besides church, and we already know what my heathen self thinks of that.”

Jensen purses his lips together and starts stacking books again. He will not read into anything Jared says. He will not. “You have bad posture, too. Everybody knows you’re tall so stop slouching.”

Jared pulls himself to his full, immense height and Jensen just manages to hold back a happy, little sigh. “That better? I’m always leaning over while I’m working, lifting and carrying, grooming the horses. Force of habit, I suppose.”

“Well it’s a bad habit, so just stop it right now,” Jensen admonishes, pushing his glasses up his nose primly.

“Yessir. What’s next?”

“You touch too much. A proper gentleman doesn’t make grabby hands at every warm body within his reach.”

Jared sticks his hands in his pockets with a frown. “Cindy touches people all the time, too.”

Jensen looks at him dryly. “If you keep talking about Cindy, I’m going to suspect that I’m trying to set you up with the wrong person.”

Jared just stares at him with a curious expression on his face that Jensen can’t read at all. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

Jensen flushes, cursing his fair skin for the millionth time. “Right. What a pity that would be.”

Jared breaks the tension by clearing his throat. “The Corteses are having their annual Fall Gala in three weeks and I’ve managed to wrangle myself an invitation.”

Jensen’s a bit stunned. Very few of the core townspeople ever go to the fancy party that the Corteses hold at the end of every October on their huge estate. The fact that Jared’s put in the obvious work to get himself invited just to be close to Genevieve tells Jensen just how serious he is about all this. It tugs on his heart, but that pull is nothing new and Jensen swallows down the bitterness.

“That’s as black tie as you’re going to get in this county, Jared. You pull that off and Genevieve will surely be impressed.” Jensen eyes Jared thoughtfully. “You think you’re ready for that?”

Jared holds his gaze, challenge in his eyes. “If you help me, then I’ll be ready.”

Jensen nods curtly. “Stand up straight. Take your hands out of your pockets. And for God’s sake stop playing with that damn hat.”

“I think that guy Seb that works for the Cortese family has the clap,” Danneel announces, flopping into their booth on their normal Friday the following week.

“All those fancy Europeans have the clap. It’s completely scientific,” Cindy replies, chewing on the straw of her strawberry milkshake, cowboy-booted feet propped up on the booth across from her underneath the table.

Jensen wiggles farther into his side of the booth to avoid Cindy’s feet. “Isn’t that privileged medical information you’re giving out right here?”

Danneel is the main nurse for Doc Pileggi and while Jensen’s sure she’s good at her job (she’s patched them up a time or two) she’s not the most discreet person to have around.

She shrugs, stealing an onion ring off Cindy’s plate. “Yup, probably.”

Jensen snorts. “Well, at least Cindy will know to avoid him until the antibiotics kick in.”

Cindy whacks him with the side of her foot. “I’ll have you know that I’ve got a date this weekend.”

Jensen rolls his eyes and she kicks him again. “Is that so? Who’s the lucky gentleman this time?”

Cindy smiles smugly. “Brock Kelly.”

Danneel laughs. “Isn’t he like, twelve?”

Cindy slurps her milkshake. “And yet so masculine.”

“Aw, so adorable,” Jensen smirks. “You can play with his GI Joes and then maybe he’ll let you hold his hand while you guys share an ice cream sundae.”

Cindy starts obscenely fellating her straw. “I’ll be holding something, but it ain’t going to be his hand.”

Danneel cackles with laughter and Sam Ferris shoots her a mock-threatening glare from behind the diner counter. Jensen throws her a pitiful “what can ya do?” expression and Sam winks at him.

“Okay, enough mocking of my delightful choice in dates! Let’s talk about you,” Cindy insists, pointing her burger at Jensen in a vaguely threatening manner.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jensen replies firmly. There isn’t really anything to tell. Well, maybe that he and Jared have spent nearly every day together for the past week. That maybe Jared’s turned out to be a lot smarter than Jensen gave him credit for. That maybe Jared’s even more beautiful up close where Jensen can almost trace the fine lines of his cheekbones with his gaze. Maybe all that. Maybe.

“So, Jared,” Danneel starts, not beating around the bush as usual.

The bell over the front door of the diner tinkles and, sure enough, Jared is walking in. He’s like Bloody Mary lately: say his name a few times and he appears.

“His ears must have been burning,” Cindy says wryly, giggling madly.

“You shush,” Jensen mumbles, trying his darndest not to look at Jared, but sneaking a peek anyway in his peripheral vision. Jared is his usual charming self, tipping his hat at Crazy Dick, pecking Alona on the cheek, and waving at Sam in her spot by the register. He heads over to Sheriff Morgan, who stands up from his place on the counter stool when he sees Jared.

“Jared, good to see you, boy,” Sheriff Morgan greets him amiably, taking Jared’s hand and shaking heartily.

Jared grins back at him. Jensen’s totally not looking. At all.

“You too, Sheriff Morgan. Been a while since I saw you last.”

“How’s your Pa? Feeling better?”

Jensen perks up a bit. Something’s wrong with Jared’s father? He looks over at the girls, but they just shrug.

“He’s doing just fine, thanks for asking. It was just a mild stroke, nothing too serious. Mama’s vowed to stop frying everything, so he’s more upset about that than being in bed for a while,” Jared replies and chuckles along with the Sheriff.

“Taking away a Texan’s fried food is a dramatic step. You let me know if he starts shooting up the house when he gets too hungry,” Sheriff Morgan jokes, patting Jared on the shoulder and adding a squeeze before turning back to the counter and his coffee cup.

Before Jensen has time to prepare, Jared is sliding into the booth next to him. His denim-encased thigh is pressed against Jensen’s and he has to fight the urge to lean into Jared even more.

“Ladies,” Jared grins as a greeting before turning slightly to Jensen, his face only centimeters away due to both the size of the booth and Jared himself. “Jensen.”

If Jensen swallows a bit at the way Jared drawls his name like a caress, it’s only because he has a bit of French fry stuck in his throat.

Danneel is grinning like a cat that just ate a whole nest of canaries. “So, Jared, we’ve been hearing stories from Jensen about all these lessons you’ve been having.”

Jared’s smile is in full-blown dimple mode now and he nudges Jensen’s shoulder with his own. “Jensen’s been telling stories about us, huh?”

Jensen shifts as far into the wall as he can go, which isn’t that far, and grumbles. “No stories have come out of my mouth whatsoever. Don’t listen to a word either of those two say.”

“I don’t know, Jensen, Miss Harris over there has a right trustworthy face,” Jared insists, gesturing towards Danneel, who just nods in smug agreement.

Jensen sits up straighter and tips his nose up as haughtily as possible. “It’s doesn’t matter anyway because you have obviously not listened to a word I’ve said.”

Jared blushes straight to his hat line, as he realizes he still has it on and pulls it off quickly. Jensen sees where the ends of his hair curl around his neck, still damp like Jared just got out of the shower. Jensen lets himself take a moment and just breathe the man in. Jared smells clean, like Irish Spring and Old Spice. Like he fixed himself up before coming into this diner. Before seeking Jensen out.

Jensen mentally berates himself for even thinking such a thing as Jared hops up to go hang his hat on the stand next to the door.

“You’re staring,” Danneel whispers at Jensen across the table, utterly amused.

Jensen shakes his head and scowls. “Shut up.”

Jared’s sliding back into the booth moments later, looking a little bit chastened. Jensen would be happier about that if Jared didn’t look so adorable with pink cheeks.

“I think we know what this means, right?” Danneel starts and Jensen shoots her the most evil look he can manage.

“Tell us, Dan,” Cindy joins in, and her evil mojo is way stronger than anything Jensen can manage.

“You need to up your lesson time,” Danneel states. She throws her palms up like it’s something that can’t be helped. “Putting up with Jen in bossy mode is a chore. Trust us, we know better than anyone. But sacrifices need to be made, right Jared?”

Jared answers by stealing a French fry off of Jensen’s plate. Jensen smacks his hand.

“Lesson number 387, don’t steal off other people’s plates!”

Cindy uses the distraction to steal a fry off Jensen’s plate.

“Cindy did it,” Jared pouts and Jensen wants to hit him and kiss him simultaneously.

“Didn’t we discuss the Cindy situation?” Jensen says sternly and Jared steals another fry.

“There’s a Cindy situation?” Cindy asks, gleefully chewing. “Are we talking threesomes here?”

Jensen groans and turns bright red as everyone else at the table starts guffawing.

The problem with Jared is that Jensen finds himself actually liking the man.

Jensen’s been in love with Jared almost a third of his life. He hates that fact with every fiber of his being, but it’s the God’s honest truth. Sure, Jensen experimented during his college years in Austin. He’s a good-looking guy and that fact didn’t go unnoticed. Yet, the boys Jensen gravitated to were always tall, always shaggy-haired; one even had dimples, even if they weren’t half as deep as a certain someone else’s. Jensen drank his fill from the well, but then he graduated and followed the path back to the stream that sourced it. Bacon is his home. Jared is his love. The two seem forever intertwined in a way that makes Jensen both angry and content.

And yet Jensen never really knew Jared. He knew the curve of his smile and how the dust formed on his boots. He knew the goofy look he got when Jensen overheard him talking about his mama’s cooking or the spring calves being born. He knew the phantom sensation of Jared’s hands on his body or the curve of his face.

But now, in just the past few weeks, Jensen’s learned things he’d never been able to when he was stitched up tight in his cocoon of bitter self-protection.

Jensen’s lying on his king-sized bed in his neat little house, with his hand around his dick. His eyes are pressed tightly shut, bottom lip tugged in between his teeth, as he uses his precome to stroke hard and slow. As usual, Jared is behind his eyelids instead of any of the guys he’s actually fucked.

There’s nothing strange about that, though. What is different is the fact that now Jensen knows what it’s like to have Jared looking him straight in the eye when he talks. Knows the way Jared catches the tip of his tongue between his teeth when he’s trying not to bust out laughing. Knows that Jared likes four sugars but no milk in his coffee, his eggs scrambled not fried, and prefers gummi worms instead of bears. Knows all the different hats he finally manages to remember to take off his head when he enters a room. In just a few weeks, after spending countless hours with the man, Jared has become his friend.

This time, when Jensen comes thinking about Jared, it’s about the real one and not the fantasy in his head.

And ain’t that the scariest fucking thing that’s happened yet.

Sure enough, Jared has managed to once again infiltrate their Friday booth, pressing even more heavily into Jensen’s side. Jared’s convinced Sam to give him a stack of silverware so he can demonstrate for the girls how much he’s learned about table etiquette. His hat is hanging neatly by the door.

“So pretend this is a little baby fork!” Jared says excitedly, holding up a normal diner fork.

“Baby fork, got it,” Cindy nods, hunched over the table and for once not stealing anyone’s food.

“And this is a slightly bigger fork!”

“Slightly bigger, I’m with ya.”

“And this one is a regular sized fork! I mean, it is a regular sized fork, so you don’t have to imagine much.” He looks sheepish at that one.

“Fantastic. So what are we eating with all these imaginary forks?” Cindy asks, and Jensen can see French fries suddenly dancing in her eyes.

Jared turns to Jensen with big eyes. “Um, what are we eating with the forks?”

Jared looks so pitiful that Jensen can’t keep himself from laughing. “Oh boy. You are going to get utterly confused when they bust out the spoons, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” Jared protests, throwing a totally normal-sized fork at Jensen and shoving him into the wall as Jensen just laughs even harder.

Danneel looks at them with a bemused little smile. “Hey, Jared, you’re coming to Kane’s with us tonight, right? Cindy’s gotta work, but we mostly hang out until Kane kicks Jensen out for lewd and lascivious drunken behavior.”

Jared lights up at that and turns to Jensen with a giddy expression. “Lewd and lascivious? Jensen, can I come and watch you be lewd and lascivious?”

Oh god. Jared and alcohol: exactly the opposite of what Jensen needs right now. Even imagining the possibilities makes Jensen’s stomach twist.

“The lewdest thing I’ve ever done at Kane’s is let Crazy Dick play with my nipples, but that was only the one time and Sheriff Morgan was there to supervise,” Jensen deadpans as Jared’s mouth drops to the table. Jensen waits a beat before grinning widely. “Gotcha.”

Jared lets out a shocked guffaw before shoving Jensen again and returning the grin.

Thirty minutes later they are walking through the battered doors of Christian Kane’s honky-tonk bar and Jensen tries to remind himself that he can act like a normal human being around Jared fucking Padalecki if it kills him.

First thing they see is Kane himself, cowboy hat tilted just so on his head. He looks up at them with twinkling blue eyes, seemingly unfazed that Jared’s come in with them. Cindy takes off to start her shift and the rest of them head over to the bar to get a drink.

Jared stares at Jensen with a mock-pout. “Hey now, how come you never tell Chris he has to take off his hat indoors?”

Jensen cocks an eyebrow. “I’d like to see you try to take Christian Kane’s hat away from him. That man is 5’3” of stubbornness and determination.”

Chris tips said hat before he goes back to wiping glasses. “I suggest you shut that mouth of yours if you don’t want any piss in your Patron.”

Jared seems to be gleeful that someone else is mocking Jensen for a change, so Jensen grabs the bottles of beer Cindy slides across the counter to them and ushers him towards the back table Danneel’s saving for them.

Jared’s pressing himself against Jensen again and Jensen grits his teeth to keep from pressing back. This situation could turn out way too dangerous for his mental health.

Sure enough, just then, Cindy is marching over to them with a tray full of tequila shots, freshly cut limes, and some crushed rock salt. She grabs Danneel’s arm and licks a stripe straight from wrist to elbow before sprinkling salt on it and wiggling her eyebrows.

Jensen rolls his eyes and waves his hand at her when she tries to force a glass in his hand after taking her shot in the most obscene manner possible.

“I was promised lewd and lascivious!” Jared insists, sliding the shot over to Jensen.

“I’m sure the girls will give you a show if you’re that hard up,” Jensen throws back, but he stutters a bit when he sees Jared tilt his head back to do his own shot. Jensen watches his Adam’s apple bob up and down, watches him lick a tiny drop of escaped liquor from the corner of his mouth, watches him stare at Jensen as he licks salt off the part of Danneel’s arm that’s still sticky with Cindy’s spit.

Jensen’s suddenly hot all over and he reaches out for the shot glass before he can remember what a bad idea it is. It’s Patron so it’s smooth, but he can still feel the burn of anticipation and regret working its way through his veins. It doesn’t help matters when Jared presses a lime against Jensen’s lips, holding it there patiently until Jensen opens for him, biting down until his mouth is full and Jared’s fingertips are pressed to his cupid’s bow. It takes a long moment for Jared to move and Jensen thinks he must be crazy because he thinks those are Jared’s fingers skimming his jawline before they drop back to the table.

Jensen’s half hard in his jeans and he hates it. Hates it so bad that he wants to pull Jared’s fingers back to his mouth and suck each one like he’d suck Jared’s cock. Dip in and out of the webbing, scrape his teeth against the nail enamel, tongue the love-line of his palm until Jared looks at him and understands.

Luckily, Crazy Dick uses that exact moment to crash through the doors with a smirk and a jaunty “evening, fellas!”

“Heya, Loki,” Kane hollers back mildly, using the nickname the man prefers when he’s in his party mode. God of mischief, indeed.

“Cindy, mi amor!” Crazy Dick calls out, one hand over his heart, the other wiggling fingers at her in a come-hither motion. Loki loves Cindy. Well, most people love Cindy, but Loki loves Cindy.

Cindy giggles and does an interpretative dance version of a salsa across the beat-up wooden floor and throws herself into Crazy Dick’s waiting arms. She’s got a couple inches on him in her boots, so it’s pretty hilarious when he starts spinning her around the dance floor. The regulars who see this show at least twice a month clap heartily. At least one person throws in a “spin that girl good, Loki!”

Jared, who doesn’t get this show twice a month, is staring at them in amazement before busting out laughing. His face is still a little flushed from the tequila and the…whatever that moment was, but he’s smiling and--god help Jensen--happy.

“I think it’s time to teach you how to dance properly,” Jensen blurts out, and where the fuck did that come from?

“That’s a fantastic idea, Jensen,” Danneel agrees and damned if Jensen didn’t forget she was even there.

Jensen watches her slide another shot across the table to him, an evil sparkle in her eye daring him to drink. He drinks. She smirks.

Ten minutes later, Jensen is orchestrating waltz lessons between Jared and Danneel (because this is still a small town in Texas, and hell if Jensen is going to be playing the girl in partner-dancing anytime soon). He doesn’t think anyone’s ever danced a waltz to Garth Brooks before, and especially not one where one of the dancers is seven feet tall and a klutz, but Jensen’s just tipsy enough to think it’ll work.

At the very least, it’ll keep Jared’s big stupid paws off his face. For the moment. Hopefully.

“Put on some Bill Monroe! We’re trying to waltz over here!” Jensen yells over to Kane, who waves at him dismissively and starts singing along to Garth as loud as he can.

Kane’s buddy Steve is suddenly in front of him, shoving another tequila shot in his hand.

“Gee, Carlson,” Jensen blinks. “I think you’re trying to distract me from Kane’s blatant disregard for our attempted waltzing.”

Steve laughs and tips the shot up to Jensen’s lips. He drinks because, well, why not? There was a good reason to not get drunk, but Jensen can’t for the life of him remember it now.

“I don’t see you waltzing, Jen. Want to slide in here and take my place?” Danneel offers slyly, letting Jared spin her in some approximation of a dance move. Jensen doesn’t think he taught them that part.

“I’m a man, dammit!” Jensen growls, but that doesn’t seem to matter much at the moment. “But if Kane would play some goddamn Bill Monroe I might just consider it.”

Jared dips Danneel with a flourish before dropping her in Steve’s waiting arms. Suddenly, he’s scooping a confused Jensen up in his arms and...aw, hell naw, Jensen is definitely not the girl.

“I’m leading, you fool,” Jensen snarls, attempting to force Jared backwards.

“But I’m taller,” Jared protests, forcing Jensen right back again.

“This just ain’t right.” Damn alcohol bringing out Jensen’s drawl. “And where the hell is the Bill Monroe?”

Jared’s got Jensen wrapped up tight in those big arms, and whatever’s happening here, it’s most definitely not a waltz. Suddenly, Jared starts singing “Kentucky Waltz” completely off-key in Jensen’s ear.

We were waltzing that night in Kentucky
Beneath the beautiful harvest moon
And I was the boy that was lucky
But it all ended too soon

Jensen smacks Jared against his head to get him to shut up, but one hand is still twisted tight in the front of Jared’s flannel. “Jared Padalecki, you are an even worse singer than you are a dancer. I don’t know how you get through the day being this inept.”

Jared laughs softly and they’re so close that Jensen can feel the tips of Jared’s hair tickle his earlobe.

Just when Jensen’s realizing he’s actually having a good time, Crazy Dick’s mama busts through the front doors waving a wooden spoon and all hell breaks loose.

“Richard Junior! You get your hands off that hussy!” she yodels, pointing the spoon at where Crazy Dick is doing the cha-cha with Cindy.

“But Mama, I love her!” Crazy Dick proclaims, but he hops away from Cindy immediately.

“Call me a hussy again, you old crone, and I’ll show you what you can do with that spoon!”

Chris is hopping over the bar as graceful as an acrobat just in time to tackle Cindy before she attempts to smack Agnes Speight in the head with a beer bottle.

“Strumpet! Harlot!”

“Let me at her, Kane! I’ll shove that spoon where only Crazy Dick’s daddy went that one time before!” Cindy snarls, words muffled by the hand Chris is attempting to shove over her mouth. Cindy’s a biter though, so that doesn’t last long.

“Cindy, calm down before I have to take action,” Deputy Cohen steps in, trying his best to sound authoritative and failing miserably.

“Matt, sit your hide down or I’ll tell Mandy!” Cindy threatens, limbs doing intricate contortions as she tries to pry Chris off of her person.

“Ah, Cindy, that was one goddamn time,” Deputy Cohen grumbles, plopping back down on the bar stool to finish his beer.

“And you say I’m uncouth,” Jared whispers in Jensen’s ear.

Jensen shivers. Then giggles. Which makes Jared giggle. Before long they are both giggling in a completely rugged and masculine manner.

They glance over just in time to spot Mama Speight pulling Crazy Dick out of the bar by one ear, before nearly collapsing to the floor with laughter. Cindy’s still kicking Kane, so Jensen figures he’ll have to be nicer to Carlson if they expect anything else to drink.

PART TWO