15 November 2015 @ 12:16 pm
Fic: More 1a/1  
Title: More
Author: [livejournal.com profile] rose_the_hat
Pairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Rating: R
Words: 10,200-ish in 2 parts
Warnings: None
Summary: In which Jensen has a sexual identity crisis.
Notes: Sequel/timestamp to Enough. You don’t necessarily need to read it to understand this one, but it might help with the background.


***Special thanks to [livejournal.com profile] alexisjane for looking this over for me. And [livejournal.com profile] etoile_etiolee for the lovely banner. Y’all rock!***






“Jared, I told you, I don’t know when The Winds of Winter is coming out,” Jensen sighs, standing up from where he had been squatting to sort through a box of intricate coloring books for adults his shop recently started selling. He can’t seem to keep them in stock these days. He and his boyfriend are in Jensen’s bookstore doing inventory, something they often do together.

Jared sets down a box of the newest Stephen King novel for Jensen to display. “I thought you being an industry insider you might have some inside information.”

Jensen gazes over at his boyfriend with fond exasperation. Most of his life Jensen had thought he wouldn’t be able to have this. That in such an oversexed society the possibility of having a sexual partner when Jensen himself is asexual could not be. But here they are ten months—nearly a year—solid and still going strong.

“I am not an ‘industry insider’. I own a little independent bookshop. That’s all. I don’t work for a publishing house in New York or HBO. I know exactly what you know and that is George R. R. Martin takes forever to write these books—epics. Be patient.”

Jensen knows how hard that is going to be for Jared. After Jared breezed through the Ice and Fire series he delved deep into the lore and, heaven help Jensen, fan theories. Jensen loves Jared; he really, really does, but he does not want to sit through yet another lecture, no matter how entertaining they are, about how Roose Bolton is some weird immortal skinchanger, or that Ned Stark is in fact alive, or how Varys is a merman—that one Jensen can’t even think about without rolling his eyes so hard he sees the back of his skull—, or Jared’s favorite theory that Mance Rayder….

“But I want to know if Mance Rayder wrote that letter to Jon,” Jared damn near whines. Jensen tends to believe that theory, along with R+L=J. Jared does not for some reason Jensen can’t fathom, and stonewalls every one of Jensen’s arguments supporting it.

Knowing the only way to divert Jared’s attention is a few feet away, he slices open the box of King’s new book, takes one out, and hands it to Jared. Jared’s already done the heavy lifting so he isn’t really needed anymore. “Here.”

Jared snatches the book like he’s Gollum and the book is the Precious. “You do love me.” Jared kisses him quickly, and plants himself in a squashy armchair to read.

Jensen relishes the quiet, and continues the dull but necessary task of inventory.




Jensen wakes up, not for the first time in Jared’s bed, because he has to pee. They spend so much time at each other’s respective apartments, Jensen wonders if he should broach the subject of moving in together. It seems like the right thing to do, but more than that it feels like the right step. He snuggles back against Jared. The other man’s body radiates warmth like an electric blanket, and Jensen soaks it in. Jared himself still seems to be dead to the world; his soft even breaths caress Jensen’s neck. Jensen has never been in love like this before. Jared is it for him. The realization is terrifying and breathtaking. He hopes Jared feels the same way.

He doesn’t want to get up and leave this cocoon of warmth and intimacy but his full bladder is making itself known. Moving with care, he slips from the bed, shuffles across the hall, and into the bathroom. After a couple of false starts (pissing with morning wood sucks) he relieves himself and treks back to bed. Jared is awake, sitting up, and blinking blearily looking like he has no idea how that happened. His face is pink with sleep and one side of his hair is flat against his skull and cheek, the other is tangled and sticking up. Jensen glances at the clock. It’s a little after five. They can sleep for a couple more hours.

He climbs back in bed, relishing the warmth immediately. Jared’s arms envelope him and they lay down. Jared mutters something, arms coming around Jensen and holding his tight. He nuzzles Jensen’s neck, stubble scratching against the skin of his neck.

When Jensen wakes up again it is to the feel of Jared’s erection pressing against his lower back. Jared’s moaning softly, hips thrusting against Jensen. Jensen wonders what he’s dreaming about, if he’s dreaming about him. But it’s totally cool if Jared dreams about someone else too, Jensen thinks but can’t really make himself believe it. Still, you can’t fault a guy for what his brain cooks up while he’s unconscious. Jared’s breathing quickens and his hips stutter and Jensen hears Jared whimper his name. Jensen grins. He turns over, kisses Jared awake.

“Hey,” Jared says voice rough with sleep.

“Must’a been some dream you were having.”

Jared’s already pink cheeks darken and he drops his eyes guiltily. Jensen hates that, hates that Jared feels guilty for something that is completely natural to him and he hates that he makes Jared feel guilty.

“Hey,” he whispers, catching Jared’s gaze. “It’s okay.” He smiles and rests a palm in the middle of Jared’s chest. “Want some help with that?” His fingers play with the patch of hair on Jared’s chest.

Jared’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Only if you’re okay with it.”

“I love that you ask, but when I offer, you don’t really need to.” He buries his head in the crook of Jared’s neck and skims his hand down Jared’s torso, fingers falling into the dips and valleys of taut muscle until he reaches Jared’s cock and curls them around it. He jerks Jared slow and easy, drinking in his moans and gasps of pleasure, feeling his skin get hotter, breathing in Jared’s distinctive masculine scent. Jared comes with a rasping broken-off cry of Jensen’s name.

The soul-deep satisfaction that he usually feels after pleasuring Jared spreads through Jensen, but for the first time it doesn’t feel like enough.





“Seventy-five, eighty, eighty-five, ninety,” Jensen counts the day’s receipts, the shop quiet for the first time all day. A soft couple of raps on the glass interrupt Jensen’s counting.

“Closed!” Jensen calls without looking up from his task. The knock comes again. Jensen grumbles and turns to see Jared standing outside, shoulders hunched and head down. He hops off his stool and hurries to the door. He throws the lock and opens the door. The chimes tinkle.

“Hey,” Jensen grins, but his smile falls when he sees how tired and careworn Jared looks. “What’s wrong?”

Jared must have come straight from the clinic because he was still dressed in mint green scrubs with hounds and bones on them. He trudges into the shop, runs a hand through his hair. “We had to put down a couple of pets today because the owners couldn’t afford the treatment.”

“I’m sorry.” Ending an animal’s suffering Jared can handle, but incidents like this it gets to him and Jensen is glad to be the one Jared leans on.

“I understand and accept that euthanasia is part of the job, for some animals it’s a kindness, the ultimate kindness, but times like this?” Jared sighs. “And I wanna be mad at the owners because if you can’t afford proper health care for animal then you shouldn’t have one, but I can’t. I can’t be mad at someone for wanting a friend, someone to come home to, for their kids to play with and grow up with. So who am I supposed to be mad at here, Jen?” He gazes at Jensen like he’s desperate for an answer to make it alright. “The doctors because they don’t work for free? Myself because I can’t adopt and save them all?” His breathing hitches and his eyes shimmer with tears.

“No one, Jare. It’s a shitty situation because there is no one to be mad at. It’s just life: cruel and unpredictable.” Jensen draws him into a tight hug. Jared clings to him and they stand like that for a good couple of minutes, giving and taking comfort.

Jensen gently pulls from the embrace. He gazes up at Jared and all he wants to do is wipe the gloomy expression from Jared’s face. He cards his fingers through Jared’s soft, thick hair. “I got an idea. How about I finish balancing the books, we go get a good bottle of wine, and head over to your place. You can cuddle with Butters and Twilight while I make a big batch of bacon mac ’n cheese. We’ll eat it and get drunk. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.” Jared bends and kisses him. “Thanks.”


Two hours later, Jared is tipsy on the wine and poking at his protruding belly, while his cats, Butters and Twilight Sparkle, (and Jensen will never stop laughing about the name choices) play with the wine cork, batting it with their paws and gamboling after and over each other in pursuit of it. Jensen is more than a little crocked himself having drank more than he ate. Caddyshack is on the television, and Jensen finds it more hilarious than usual.

“Hey, Jen?”

Jensen turns his attention from the giggling gopher on the TV to Jared. The other man gazes at him soft and fond, a goofy lopsided smile making his right dimple flash, and Jensen doesn’t think he has ever loved Jared more than he does right now. “Yeah?”

“You are an awesome boyfriend.” He lays his head on Jensen’s shoulder and winds an arm around his waist. A few minutes later, he’s snoring into Jensen’s ear and drooling on him.

Jensen watches the rest of the movie, fingers running through Jared’s hair while the other man sleeps. Jared is still conked out after the end credits roll, and Jensen doesn’t have the heart to wake him. He lays Jared down, covers him with the House Stark blanket, and goes to grab a shower.

Jensen spends so much time at Jared’s—and Jared at Jensen’s—that he has an entire dresser drawer full of underwear and socks, half of Jared’s closet contains Jensen’s clothes, and the bathroom counter is sprinkled with his toiletry items. He grabs a clean pair of boxers and his Batman sleep pants and heads into the bathroom.

He strips out of his clothes, turns the water on, adjusts it to a comfortable temperature before stepping under the spray. The hot water pounding against his back and shoulders and the steam surrounding him soothes and relaxes him. He washes his hair and soaps up. He exhales, and rolls his shoulders as his hand drifts to his cock. He takes himself in a loose, teasing grip, strokes along the length, feeling it fill and fatten. He sighs and slips into the realm of fantasy.

He imagines a faceless hunk fucking him on a pool table, can see himself arching and moaning, imagine a big thick dick splitting him open, imagines a hard demanding mouth kissing him, imagines big hands roaming over his body. His other hand reaches down to roll his balls. He widens his stance and his finger slips further back to rub along his perineum. He moans, imagines his faceless hunk flipping him over and tonguing his ass.

The fantasy shifts and his faceless lover isn’t faceless at all, its Jared above him, moving inside him in slow deep strokes. They aren’t on a pool table either, but rather on a bear skin rug in front of a roaring fire. Desire and lust flare inside him bright and hotter than the sun.

“Yes,” he gasps stroking harder, faster, eyes shut tight, brow furrowed. “Jared.”

Pornographic scenes flit through his mind. Jared fucking him hard and deep. Jared’s hands on him, squeezing his hips and leaving bruises. Jared growling filth into his ear, calling him a slut and a whore, telling him what a good boy he is and how well he’s taking Jared’s fat cock. Jared’s sweat and come mingling with his.

Jerking off isn’t new to Jensen. It’s a nightly ritual for him, stress relief and a way to relax him before bed so he can get a good night’s sleep, but fantasizing about Jared is new. Before his fantasies have been abstract; his favorite celebrity, the cute guy who made his coffee at Starbucks that morning, a stacked blonde who bought half a dozen Jim Butcher novels. Fantasizing about Jared is different; it makes him feel guilty for reasons he can’t define.

He forces his eyes open, and stills his hand on his cock. He tries to refocus. He rests a forearm against the tile wall of the shower and presses his forehead against it. He tries to think about Tahmoh, a handsome customer whose purchases consist of gay romance novels and how-to home improvement guides. Tries to imagine kissing him, imagine his hands roaming Jensen’s body, or pressing him down into the mattress, but inevitably his face shifts, cheekbones sharpen and grey eyes morph to hazel blue until its Jared staring back at him.

In a way, it’s fitting that he can’t think about anyone else but Jared because he is so deeply in love with the man. He lets go, gives in, and thinks about Jared. He’s no longer in the shower but a summer rainstorm pelting down on them. Laughing, Jared lifts him up, and holds him against the trunk of a mighty oak. Jensen wraps his legs around Jared’s waist as he fucks into him with short jabs of his hips. Jensen’s arms wind around Jared’s neck, and his hands knot in Jared’s hair. He can feel a cool breeze and the sun as it peeks through the clouds, can taste rain on Jared’s lips when they kiss, can feel the bark of the tree abrading his back. He’s lost in his fantasy in a way he has never been before.

“Jared. God, Jared. Yes. Yes.”

His hand moves over his cock in a blur. God, he is so turned on. So hard it hurts. He’s aware he’s moaning louder than he should, and hopes the noise of the shower muffles it. His balls tighten and he comes with a grunt; strings of sticky seed hit the watery-green tile and swirl down the drain.

Jensen shudders, catching his breath as the water begins to cool. Far from feeling relaxed and ready for bed, as usual, he feels strung tight and confused. He just got off harder than he has in a long while, and it wasn’t to someone abstract or faceless, but his boyfriend who is out in the other room and would be more than happy to make Jensen’s fantasy a reality should he ask. But he doesn’t want to have sex with Jared in reality.

Does he?





The noise level in the shop is a little louder today than most days. The Manga club is having its bi-monthly meeting, and the members can get a little enthusiastic, but it’s nice. Jensen enjoys it, enjoys his shop full of noise and life. It fills him with a fierce pride that his little shop is still thriving despite his mother’s doom-and-gloom predictions. The chimes above the door tinkle announcing a new customer, except it isn’t a new customer at all but a regular he hasn’t seen in awhile.

“Well, well, well,” Jensen says smiling in welcome “Back visiting your old stomping grounds, eh, Colin?”

Colin Ford, a long-time customer of Jensen’s who went away to Stanford last fall, grins a sunny grin. He’s grown at least another inch or two in height and his hair has those California sun-kissed highlights. It’s good to see the boy, young man Jensen amends, again, having watched him grow up. “Nah, I’m just too lame to go to Cabo for Spring Break like my friends.”

Jensen chuckles, extending a hand. “How you doin’, kid?”

Colin takes it and gives it a firm shake. “I’m good, Jensen. Missed this place most of all. After dropping my stuff off at the house I knew I had to stop by. How’s it going?”

“Great. Business is strong and steady. I imagine Stanford has an extensive reading list, you looking for anything in particular?”

Colin shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs, gazing around the shop, eyes misty with nostalgia. “Nah, but I never could come in here and leave empty handed.”

Jensen nods. “Well, have at it. Good to see you.”

Colin wanders over to the Fantasy section and Jensen nods, pleased that though he is a man now his reading habits are still mostly the same, just a little more refined. He goes back to his spreadsheet, attention divided between tracking down special orders and ringing people up. It’s good that the shop is busy, keeps him from angsting about The Incident in the shower a week ago. Jensen had written it off to being a little drunk, his inhibitions lowered, and was prepared to forget about, but there was another instance a couple of mornings ago.

He was dreaming about Jared, a ridiculous scenario where Jared was fucking him as they floated on the ocean. He woke up white-hot desire burning through him, and cock aching. He shoved a hand inside his boxers and jerked himself off, coming after a couple of hard strokes. He had lain, gazing up at the ceiling, reeling at the realization that he was experiencing real, intense sexual desire. No one he has ever been in a relationship with has stuck around long enough for this to become an issue and Jensen never thought it would. So assured that sex was not something he needed or wanted, but he wants Jared, wants him so much he aches, and if he wants to have sex is he even Asexual anymore? The one constant basic thing he’s supposed to know about himself has been ripped out from under him. He doesn’t know who he can talk to about it or how to explain it, so he does what he can to keep his mind and time occupied in between bouts of brooding.

The Manga meeting breaks up at two, and each member leaves with new copies of Death Note and Vampire Knight that they will mostly likely discuss at their next meetings. Colin has planted himself in a chair with a couple of books on the end table beside him and leafing through another.

“Mister Jensen?” A tiny voice inquires.

Jensen peers over his counter to see a timid little girl, five at most, tugging on her denim skirt. “Help you, sweetheart?”

Jensen’s eyes scan the shop; the girl’s mother watching a couple of feet away. The child looks over her shoulder to her mother who smiles encouragingly. The girl turns back to Jensen, puffs out her chest seeming to gather her courage. “My mommy said I should ask’d you where to find the Princess books.”

“Princess books! I love Princess books,” Jensen enthuses. She giggles and sways from side to side. “I have all kinds. Wanna see?”

“Yes!” She bounces on the balls of her feet. Jensen steps from behind the counter and offers her his hand. She takes it and he leads her to the left of the shop towards the children’s corner. After ascertaining the princess books she is looking for are Sofia the First, he points them out and leaves her in the care of her mother.

He finds his spot behind the counter occupied when he returns. He leans against the counter and cocks a brow. “Employees only behind the counter,” he says, voice stern.

“Does it help at all if the owner is my boyfriend?” Jared asks wagging his eyebrows and grinning.

“Nope,” Jensen says, a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. He can’t be in Jared’s presence and not smile, especially when he’s dressed in pink scrubs with kittens and balls of yarn on them. He steps behind the counter and wraps an arm around Jared’s waist. He tilts his head up and Jared bends to give him a brief hello kiss. “What brings you by?”

Jared shrugs. “Heading back to the clinic after lunch. Thought I’d swing by and see my friendly neighborhood bookseller. You wanna hang out tonight?”

Jensen does but hanging out usually turns into a sleepover and Jensen doesn’t trust himself to be alone with Jared because he’s still struggling to understand the feelings Jared has stirred inside him, but the desire to spend time with Jared overrides his fear. “Sure…as long as we have pizza and you do not mention any of your crackpot Ice and Fire theories.”

Jared looks adorably crestfallen. “Fine,” he mutters, scuffing the toe of his shoe across the floor.

“I’ll let you pick what we watch,” Jensen offers.

Jared perks up. “Deal.” He checks his watch. “I gotta hustle. See ya later.” He gives Jensen a quick goodbye kiss and he’s out the door.


Jensen’s brow furrows at the scene unfolding on the screen. Jared, of course, had picked an old suspense movie; this one about an angelic little girl who is in fact a stone-cold sociopathic killer. They are at Jensen’s apartment because he has the better television, cuddled together on the couch; a few empty beer bottles and the remnants of their pizza on the coffee table.

“Is she for real?” He asks as the little girl shrieks about wanting her shoes back.

“Well, those shoes are evidence she killed that boy at the picnic,” Jared’s voice is a warm rumble.

Jensen tears his eyes away from the screen to look at Jared’s profile, his sharp jaw and the up-tilt of his nose. He’s so gorgeous it’s kind of unreal. The fact that he loves and accepts Jensen makes him more appealing.

Blood-chilling screams erupt from the TV, and Jensen’s attention snaps back to the screen where smoke billows from the apartment building’s basement.

“Holy shit,” Jensen says. “She’s burning him alive because of the shoes.”

Jared nods, face grim. “Shoes he didn’t even have.”

Jensen watches the rest of the movie with a kind of horrified fascination, even if the acting is a bit over the top and campy at times. When Jensen comments on it, Jared tells him it’s a hold-over from the stage play and doesn’t translate well to the film version. Jensen is in awe of Jared’s vast wealth of knowledge when it comes to these old movies. Tidbits, production headaches, casting changes, Jared knows it all.

“So, all and all what did you think?” Jared asks once the movie is over.

“Pretty good. I love how she got struck by lightning at the end.”

Jared scoffs. “Yeah, well, the book didn’t end like that.” He stands, yawns and stretches.

“She gets away with it?”

Jared nods. “Yup, but they had to change it for the movie because the Hayes Code was still in effect. Bad guys had to get their comeuppance.”

“Well shit,” Jensen says pushing to his feet. He scrubs his hands through his hair, gazes at Jared. “Wanna stay over?”

Before Jared can answer he yawns again. Jensen takes that as assent, throws an arm around his shoulders, and leads him into the bedroom. They get ready for bed, in comfortable silence; elbows bumping as they brush their teeth, grinning at each other through toothpaste foam each time they clash. Jensen swears Jared does it on purpose.

Jensen strips down to his boxers and slides beneath the covers. Jared joins him a moment later. They grunt and shift, rolling towards each other onto their sides and pressing close. Jared’s arms come around Jensen and hold him close. Jensen tucks his head under Jared’s chin, their customary cuddling position.

“Hey, Jense?” Jared’s tone is musing.

“Hmm?”

“Think I could start a club at your shop?”

Jensen shrugs. His shop hosts a few book clubs, each one meeting on a different day or the week or month in the area Jensen has set up for that reason. It’s good for business; people meet and discuss books, and when they decide on what book to read next, they buy from Jensen’s shop. “What kind of club?”

“Since you hate listening to my Ice and Fire theories, I want to start a club where other crackpots like me can meet and exchange ideas.”

Jensen lifts his head to find Jared’s eyes, wondering if maybe his gentle teasing has gone too far and hurt Jared’s feelings. Jared’s eyes glitter with amusement in the low light and Jensen is reassured. “You’re such a dork. But if you want to host a club to discuss crackpot theories, fine. I’m kind of surprised there isn’t one already.”

Jared’s arms tighten around him. “You do love me.” He leans in and presses a chaste kiss to Jensen’s lips.

“A little bit,” Jensen replies and leans in for another.

One kiss turns into more and Jared takes it slow, a soft press of lips before his tongue snakes out in a cautious lick over Jensen’s lips. Jensen sighs and opens his mouth for Jared’s tongue and stroking it with his own. Jensen’s heart speeds up and heat washes over him. He threads his fingers through Jared’s hair moving closer to him. One of Jared’s big hands cradles the back of Jensen’s head, thumb tracing the cut of Jensen’s jawline.

Jared breaks their kiss to nuzzle the crook of Jensen’s neck. “You always smell like books. It’s sexy.”

Jensen laughs and Jared kisses the sound from his mouth.

They exchange lazy tongue-kisses for long blissful minutes, losing themselves in the effortless slide of tongues and nips of teeth. Jared’s hands stroke along Jensen’s back, across his shoulders, his face. Jensen relaxes and relishes the sensuality, the intimacy of sharing taste and breath with the man he loves.

Their kisses deepen. Jared pushes Jensen on to his back; it feels so right and natural Jensen goes willingly. It’s like something out of one of his fantasies, Jared pressing him into the mattress. Jared’s hard cock presses against his thigh, separated by the thin cotton of his underwear. Jensen’s fingers find Jared’s nipples and tease them to hard peaks. Jared moans softly and rocks his hips against the meat of Jensen’s thigh. Jensen lifts one of his own legs, tangling it with Jared’s, urging him on.

Jensen takes Jared’s face between his palms and presses their mouths together so hard their teeth clack. He sucks Jared’s tongue, bites his bottom lip. Jared’s riding his thigh hard now, little moans of pleasure breathed into Jensen’s mouth. His own cock his hard and throbbing against Jared’s hip and he gives a little experimental push of his hips. The friction is delicious and he goes with it, rubbing and grinding against Jared as they kiss.

Jared’s hand cups the bulge of Jensen’s erection and squeezes. The touch is akin to being struck by lightning. He moans and presses into it. He clutches Jared, fingers digging into the hard muscle of his shoulder.

The desire burgeoning inside him erupts and the intensity scares more than excites him. He doesn’t know how to be sexual. Giving has always been enough for Jensen; he’s never wanted more. Knowing he gave Jared pleasure and release satisfied him in a way he struggled to explain to Jared; the pleasure Jensen received wasn’t sexual in nature, and Jared, as a sexual person, couldn’t understand.

A few years ago, when Jensen had been in a relationship with a cool, laid-back guy named Steve, he thought maybe someday he could see himself having sex with Steve, but the relationship ended before Jensen could progress to anything beyond “meh, maybe”. There is no doubt Jensen is beyond maybe with Jared.

Suppose he and Jared do have sex. What then? Can Jared go back to the way they had been? Would he long for something more and gradually grow unhappy with Jensen until he leaves and Jensen looses the best thing to ever happen to him. The idea of being without Jared is terrifying and kills all desire within him.

At some point Jared’s hand has slipped into Jensen’s boxers, and was jerking Jensen with firm skilled strokes, a little squeeze and twist of the wrist under the head. It is perfect but Jensen’s cock wilts despite the expert stimulation.

“Jared. Jared.” His heart pounds and he’s short of breath, close to panicking. This can’t go any further. He can’t let it. "Jared, stop, please." His throat squeezes and the words came out as a squeak. “Stop!” He slams his palms into Jared’s chest and pushes him away.

Jared’s hand leaves Jensen’s cock as if scalded. His face, still flushed with arousal, morphs into an expression of remorse so profound it makes Jensen’s heart ache. His hands always wander when they make out, but never go below Jensen’s waist without Jensen’s express consent. “Jensen, I…I’m so sorry. I got carried away. I…”

His eyes shimmer over-bright in the low light and Jensen can’t take the pain he sees in them. This isn’t Jared’s issue, it’s all on Jensen. He bolts from the bed dashes into the bathroom, slams and locks the door behind him. He sits on the closed toilet lid and tries to collect himself.

There was a soft knock on the door. "Jen? Are you okay? I'm sorry. I...I know that you don’t want..." He could hear the waver in Jared's voice. "I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone."

Jensen’s standing and reaching to thumb the lock before he stops himself. How can he explain what he’s feeling to Jared when even he’s not sure. He presses his forehead to the door and squeezes his eyes shut. This was exactly why he had avoided spending the night with Jared. He’s fucked things up and knows Jared is going to blame himself.

NEXT

 
 
At : Abilene, TX
Listening to/Watching: Purple Haze: Jimi Hendrix
I'm : good