NC-17 | Still Here We Are | J2 (2/2)
Part One
With one look at the sad piece of trash Jared had driven into town, Jensen curses his brother for being a failure in car maintenance. He’d heard the truck’s engine putter yesterday as he sat in his own car around the corner and watched all the guests arrive for Mom’s memorial.
This will not stand. Bad mechanics are a pet peeve of Jensen’s. Grating automotive noises make his skin crawl.
He’s elbow deep in machinery, flipping the ratchet in his hand as Aldis and Matt play one-on-one by the garage. God, this thing is a mess of rust and grease, and Jensen feels rusty himself, clanking tools against the engine with the odd angle as he rises to his toes to put some muscle into it.
“What’re you doing?” Jared asks as he comes alongside the truck.
Jensen rubs his wrist across his forehead. “Can’t take care of your toys, someone else is gonna do it.”
“It ran fine all the way here.”
“You’ve got a horseshoe up your ass then.” He smirks at Jared and digs right back in. “You gimme five and we’ll go joyriding.”
Jared leans against the side of the hood and watches Jensen work, which kind of makes Jensen nervous, really. He’s not used to people keeping an eye on him when he’s fiddling inside cars. He does it to pass the time. He’s found that the steady movement of wrists and elbows grounds him; it makes him feel useful.
But he can sense Jared’s attention all too strongly, and he finally pitches the ratchet to the grass and puts his hands up. “Whatever. Your girl’s a sad sack of steel and I can’t do this anymore.” Jared laughs like he hardly believes him and slaps the hood down when Jensen moves out of the way.
“This thing’s twenty years old,” Jared says. “I don’t think it joyrides.”
Jensen nudges Jared out of the way as he walks to the driver’s side and opens the door. “You just don’t know how to treat a girl.” He hops into the driver’s seat without having to wait long for Jared to take the other seat.
“Didn’t think you did either.”
Jensen glances over before flipping the key and revving the engine. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Jared snorts. “You gonna drive or just talk trash?”
“I’m gonna do both,” he insists as he speeds out of the drive and onto the street.
They don’t go far; the truck sounds better but not wholly perfect. They circle the neighborhood and eye former favorite haunts that have since been shut down - Saeli’s Pizza is now a depressing corner smoke shop and Hofferman’s has been transformed into a local alderman’s homestead.
They’re gone long enough that when Jensen pulls back down the road, he has to slow as they approach the house because horror is creeping upon him, burning up his spine as he spots his car. The driver’s side tire is fitted with a construction yellow boot, and he can’t even park Jared’s truck for the panic running through him. He just stops alongside his car and jumps out, slowly circling the front of the truck until he’s crouching and staring at the boot up close.
Mother fucker.
“Hey,” Jared says, waving a note towards him.
He snatches it and curses once again. How’s this for tricks? it reads and he growls as he stands.
“Matt! Aldis!”
The two trip out the front door and down the walk to meet them in the street and both break into hysterics at the sight. “Man, how many tickets you get in two days?” Aldis says between laughs.
“How in the hell?” Matt asks. “Doesn’t it take like a dozen tickets to get one of these?”
“Or just one dick,” Jensen grumbles.
“I told you!” Aldis crows. “I told your ass that you’d get nailed for busting his car last night.”
“Whatever,” he shakes off. “Tonight, we’re finding those assholes and-”
“No, we’re not,” Aldis insists.
Matt nods and pats Aldis as they back away. “Yeah, you’re on your own there, crazy.”
“Dude, c’mon!” Jensen shouts at them. “They showed up at our house and did this to us.”
“It’s your car, dumbass,” Matt laughs. “I don’t give a shit about it.” He and Aldis get right back to their game without another look.
Jensen turns right to Jared, who sighs and tips his head. “No, Jensen.”
“Jared,” he says with a sharp smile. “C’mon, we can snag his radio. Or tie the frame to a pole or something.”
“Okay, A, that’s unoriginal. And B-”
“B, we owe them one,” Jensen cuts in. “They made our lives hell growing up, always following us and locking us up in Juvie.”
“You,” Jared insists. “They put you in Juvie because you were always up to stupid shit and couldn’t sit still. Just like now. Don’t drag me into this.”
“C’mon.”
“No.”
“Please?” he murmurs. “It’ll give us a chance to bond. Spend some time together. You always wanted to hang out when we were kids, and now here’s our chance.” Jared simply stares and Jensen stops with the charm and plainly asks, “Can I borrow your truck?”
“No.”
“I fixed the thing for you,” he complains. “You could at least pay me back.”
“No.”
“Jared.”
Jared rolls his eyes and looks away.
“Jay?” Jensen tries nicely with a truer smile in place.
He pushes his tongue into the side of his cheek but still remains silent.
“You know you wanna have fun with me.”
Jared stares at him and swallows roughly, throat working. “I’m driving.”
Jensen smacks him on the back as he runs around to the passenger side. “That’s my boy!”
They drive through town until they catch sight of the gunmetal sedan parked outside a bustling corner burger joint. It takes nearly an hour for Collins and Pellegrino to surface, and Jared and Jensen slouch in their seats and wait.
“I can’t believe you dragged me into this,” Jared mumbles.
Jensen shifts against the door to face Jared and he wants to laugh at him for how pitiful he looks and sounds. “All those times you begged me to let you tag along and now you’re bitching?”
He glances over and nudges his shoulder back into his seat. “Being an idiot at 12 is a lot different than being one at 28.”
“So we’re idiots?”
“No, I just mean-”
“That I’m an even bigger idiot,” he cuts in sharply. “Because I’m older so, you know, a bigger waste of a life.”
“I’m not saying that!” Jared nearly shouts back.
“Then what’re you saying?”
“That I was an idiot for being your stupid shadow when you didn’t care.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Jared clamps down and turns towards the window.
Jensen stares, and holy shit, does he feel something twist at Jared’s admission. “Who says I didn’t care?”
“Your face said it all. That night at Hofferman’s when you called me a fucking idiot.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You said I was an idiot for doing it and being there.”
The memory floods Jensen and he’s happy to clue Jared into exactly what had been a struggle for those years they lived together. “I was the idiot, you idiot. I wasn’t supposed to let you go with me everywhere, racking up your own record and becoming a delinquent.”
With Jared’s silence, all of the emotions crash upon Jensen as well. He feels shame and indignation whir as he’s reminded of his guilt for always having to push Jared away, but also the anger for Jared never buying a clue. It all feels too familiar right now with Jared pushing back on him.
“I hated myself for seeing you follow in my footsteps,” Jensen says, shaking his head, unable to look at Jared as he confesses. “You were better than that. You deserved better. So, I’m sorry that it hurt when I left so you didn’t become me. You turned out pretty well from where I’m sitting.”
By the end, Jensen’s voice is uncharacteristically low, and he nearly hates himself for having spilled all of that. Though, he figures he owes Jared something after four years of being foster brothers and treating him with anything but respect. Even if it was his backhanded way of protecting Jared and keeping him at arm’s length. As an adult, remorse overtakes Jensen in ways he’d been able to bypass when he was a fucked-up kid. Especially where Jared is concerned.
“Yeah, well I don’t feel pretty well,” Jared mumbles.
Jensen watches Jared run his finger against the window and he has the sudden want to wrap Jared up. A totally new feeling, and it nearly shocks him because his means of protection had always been distance. “Why?”
“We’ve all been goofing off for two days like we’re not here because Mom’s gone.” Jared looks at Jensen. “What’re you gonna do when you’re done playing cops and robbers and have to go home?”
“I don’t know,” he admits, fiddling with a snag in his worn-out jeans. He hadn’t really considered that. Thinking more than a day or two ahead was never good for Jensen. He gets tense with it. Always has, and probably forever will. But then he feels foolish for assuming they’d all hang out at the house until they had a better idea.
The engine turning over breaks Jensen from the moment and when he looks up Pellegrino and Collins are exiting the restaurant and heading to their sedan, and Jared’s shifting into drive.
“You really wanna do this?” Jensen asks.
Jared just barely hides a tiny smile as he grips the wheel. “My one and only big brother bonding moment?”
Jensen starts to smile with him. “You sure?”
“One last hurrah.”
He snorts and shakes his head. “Well, you better get going, Slim. The bad guys are getting away.”
They follow the sedan through town until the detectives end their shift at the same bar from the night before. The car’s parked around the side under a blown streetlight, and Jared pulls behind the building and out of sight.
Jared keeps watch at the edge of darkness, just before the next streetlamp lights up other parked cars while Jensen tugs on a pair of gloves and digs into the engine. He disconnects wires, bypasses the battery, and removes it along with the alternator.
Well past midnight, they dump the parts into a small pond in front of the police station, lit up by decorative bulbs but altogether abandoned at this hour. After the double splash, they jog to the truck a block over, barely containing their laughter.
When they return to the house, it’s empty. Matt and Aldis are out drinking and reliving old hangouts, Jensen’s sure. He follows Jared up to his old room and chuckles as Jared stumbles, drunk on the adrenaline of the night.
In their own beds, they laugh to each other over the image of the detectives trying to start the car, checking all its parts, and spotting the blankness under the hood.
“No wonder you never slept,” Jared chuckles. “You probably got all fired up every time you started shit in this town.”
“Near about,” he laughs back.
Electricity runs beneath his skin with the memory of all those late nights when he ransacked abandoned houses and nabbed lawn decorations. All because he was awake and no one else was. He feels the crackle of excitement burrowing in his stomach and lower, and he bends his knees up and rubs at his lower abdomen. He has the fleeting thought of going to the bathroom and beating off, anything to take the edge off this fire.
From the corner of his eye, he sees Jared’s chest puff up and his hand rub over his own stomach, and Jensen rolls to face him, crossing his legs to push down the want creeping up. “You okay?” he asks with a smirk.
“Yeah, I uh,” Jared says lamely as he looks at Jensen. His chest keeps rising high and Jensen’s eyes go warm, but he can’t manage to push Jared into more trouble than they’ve already created. “The guys always joke about you,” says quietly.
Jensen knows exactly why that is, and he’s sure Jared really does, too. Jared’s not stupid, and neither is Matt or Aldis. Still, Jensen deflects and asks, “About what?”
“Why’d you punch Matt for saying shit about Sixth Street?”
“Because he said shit about Sixth Street,” he answers honestly.
“So, you really …”
Jensen turns to his back and scratches over his head with a rough laugh. “Yeah, sure. I have.” He shuts his eyes, content that they’ve said enough because he’s not up for more of this conversation. Especially not when he and Jared have found some sort of middle ground as far as their youth is concerned. Last thing he needs is Jared shooting him strange, stilted looks and judging him for what he feels.
The other bed creaks and so do the floorboards before Jensen’s mattress bends, and Jensen’s eyes widen as Jared lowers himself. “I have, too,” Jared whispers. “I want to.”
“Jay?” Jensen asks quietly. His eyes flip between Jared’s all while he’s incapable of ignoring the warmth of Jared’s body covering his.
Instead of answering, Jared dips in to kiss him, mouth soft and damp as his lips glide over Jensen’s.
Jensen stalls to weigh the implications of now and the consequences of tomorrow. But then he considers all the ways he’s been looking at Jared since he showed up yesterday. He’s been appreciating the new cut of this body and he’s come to admire the attitude Jared now carries. He likes that Jared pushes back on him, and suddenly he really likes the slow rock of Jared’s hips against his own.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Jensen mumbles against Jared’s mouth. He nudges Jared up and yanks the blankets from between them, pulling Jared back in and wrapping his leg around Jared’s hip. Jensen forces shame from his mind. Their lives have been all fucked up for decades now, and while there’re ties between them, there is no blood, and Jensen allows himself to kiss back with the same energy Jared puts down on him.
Their tongues slide together as hands slip under clothes, warm and insistent. Jensen twists to pull his shirt up, and Jared rolls to his side and yanks his own up and his pants down. Jensen smiles and wraps his hand around Jared’s dick, stroking slowly as he mouths along Jared’s throat, and Jared reaches between Jensen’s legs, returning the favor.
He moans into Jared’s mouth, further aroused with the large hold Jared has on him, with the swift pull of Jared’s fist. It doesn’t take long before he’s no longer kissing Jared and is just panting into his mouth. His eyes are open to Jared’s even as Jared keeps nipping at his mouth.
“Oh, God,” he whimpers against Jared’s lips, feeling his balls draw up and his thighs twitch with the want for this to be an everyday happening.
Jared just swallows up all other sounds with his mouth sucking at Jensen’s as he speeds his hand and brings Jensen off, continuing to stroke him as he comes. Jensen presses his forehead to Jared’s cheek, breath loud and rough, but as it steadies, he realizes Jared’s chest is heaving harder than his had been. He turns his face up and shoves his tongue between Jared’s lips, owning Jared’s mouth as he fucks Jared with a tight fist.
And now it’s Jared who’s full to the brim with moans and shivers, quivering as Jensen works fast to finish him, eats at him from the inside out with how he possesses Jared’s mouth and dick. Jensen is more fulfilled in this moment, to hold this power over Jared, than he was when Jared had gotten him off. Because he’s aware that it’s a fifteen-year-old connection here, and he nails it in Jared’s wide eyes. Ones he’d remembered so well as a child, but with a new view here that brings his blood back to boiling.
With a complete quake of his body, limbs tight and fingers tighter, Jared comes, emptying with Jensen’s steady fist dragging every strain of energy and air out of him.
Jensen brings his hand up and smiles crookedly at the pearly shine of his fingers. He licks at the webbing between his fingers, pausing at his thumb and index when Jared smirks at him.
“You like that,” Jared half-asks, half-taunts.
“Shut up,” Jensen mumbles, flipping to his back. He doesn’t bother touching Jared more than they already are, his shoulder nudged into Jared’s chest as Jared stays wedged against the wall. But he doesn’t kick Jared off the mattress either.
In the morning, the air swells with sex. Jensen immediately feels sick with it; fearful Aldis or Matt will come in and find them in bed together or smell it through the hallway. When he rolls out of bed, he sees Matt pull up at the crack in the door and hears the laughter before he can run an inventory of himself or the room.
“How much you idiots drink last night?” Matt asks as he shoves the door wide.
Jensen pulls his boxers on and quickly glances at the bed to discover Jared still passed out in place. Luckily, he’d put some semblance of clothes back on at some point. Relief rushes in, and he pushes Matt out of his way like there’s no difference to this morning compared to the last hundred. Matt follows him to the bathroom and casually leans against the doorway as Jensen pisses.
“What d’you want?” Jensen grumbles.
“What’d you do to Collins?” Matt asks as he reaches up to grab the top of the doorframe.
Finishing up at the toilet, Jensen moves to the sink and washes his hands, shifting to the side when Matt hangs from the woodwork and swings himself forward, kicking at Jensen. “Are you a fucking child?” he complains, getting kicked in the hip and swinging back at Matt’s knee. “You didn’t wanna go, you don’t get to know,” he finally answers, and pushes Matt out of his way.
Back at the bedroom, Matt calls out, “Slim! What’d you guys do?”
Jared turns to his stomach, keeping his eyes shut. “We baked him a cake,” he mumbles.
“C’mon, man.”
“You didn’t want in. It’s a secret,” Jared says.
“Atta boy,” Jensen smiles, roughly scrubbing at Jared’s head.
“Dude!” Jared groans, sliding away and smacking blindly.
Matt and Jensen are laughing together, Jensen yanking jeans into place, until Aldis ruins the fun and shouts for Jensen, voice hard and loud.
“Better get down here, Jen!” Aldis adds on.
Jensen trudges down the stairs, tugging a shirt on as he hits the bottom stair and halts for a moment. Collins and Pellegrino are standing in the front foyer, smiles in place as Collins spins the ring of his handcuffs around his finger.
“Been waitin’ a long time for this, Ackles,” Collins says happily.
“Aw, man,” Jensen returns with a smirk of his own. “Didn’t think I’d ever have to burn this bridge, but you’re just not my type.”
“I think I’m exactly your type,” Collins says. He and Pellegrino move forward to grab at his arms and force him into the nearest wall. Jensen doesn’t bother fighting it; there’s a tinge of pride reeling through his system for what he did last night. He’ll get out of this. Somehow. He always does.
“What? No sweet talk?” Jensen asks as they stay quiet on the way out the door. “No Miranda rights or giving me the chance to ask for a lawyer.”
Pellegrino’s mouth curls ugly as he pats Jensen’s cheek. “We’ll have plenty of time to flirt back at the station.”
He’s fingerprinted, an act he could carry out solo after all the times he’s had it done. He’s searched and handcuffed to a ring at the edge of the table in an empty interrogation room, and it all feels so familiar. He can’t even care that the department no longer has worn-down wooden chairs and tables but ice-cold metal frames that should kill his back and wrists where they’re pinned if he’s here all too long. But he figures they’ll put him in lock-up soon enough and then he’ll meet bail and be done.
They leave him be. For quite a few hours, in fact. So many that he puts his head down to his arms and shuts his eyes against the boredom, and it’s just then that the door bangs open and Collins and Pellegrino enter, Collins dropping a file to the table and full-on grinning.
Jensen sleepily smiles, even when Pellegrino eyes him and asks, “What’re you so excited about?”
“It’s like old times,” Jensen replies. “Except the old times are old. Statute of limitations and all that.”
The detectives share an impressed laugh as Collins sits across from Jensen and starts flipping through the paperwork. “That’s a big word for a li’l guy like you,” Pellegrino says.
Jensen tips his chin up. “You watch a little TV, you pick up a thing or two.”
“Ackles, you’ve been busy lately,” Collins butts in, papers shuffling across the metal tabletop. “Franklin Heights, you were pegged for ten days in jail after a bar fight when you tossed a stool through the front window.”
“Guy owed me a drink,” Jensen excuses away lightly.
“And in Riverside, you put in a weekend for public intoxication and indecent exposure.”
Jensen lifts an eyebrow. “It was a hot night.”
“I thought you were smarter than this,” Pellegrino tsks.
“You did?” Collins asks, twisting to look at his partner.
Pellegrino leans back on the bare cement wall behind him and lightly shakes his head. “Didn’t you play baseball? Thought you were an all-star third baseman? MVP and team captain? All before your daddy left and mama drowned in the bathtub.”
Jensen’s smile falters but he keeps it mostly in place while his stomach drops out and his legs go numb. He can’t even focus on what the words are, only what’s waiting for him.
“Three strikes and you’re out, kid.”
He’d been fully convinced there’d be nothing keeping him in this room; he always was. But here, two detectives with a fifteen-year-old grudge have him by the sack and are squeezing tight.
“And now, third offense, vandalism of police property,” Collins says, though it sounds like a question. “What a perfect example you set for your family.”
“Can’t prove it was me,” Jensen replies with a cock of his head, leaning back in his seat as far as the cuffs will allow him.
Collins nods. “Got a witness.”
“Yeah, and what’d they say?”
“Tall guy with a pile of chips on his shoulder,” Pellegrino says. “You know, I’m thinking maybe some real time behind bars will do you good.”
Jensen’s eyes are heavy and he feels the energy drain out of him. He hasn’t even been here all that long, but he’s tired of it already. Taking a deep breath, he settles himself and stares back at Collins, face dead and unwilling to speak for the next twenty minutes while the two try to interrogate and tempt him to spill.
He refuses, and it earns him a night on a hard cot. He won’t sleep anyway.
So maybe Aldis is right, and nothing good comes from revenge. And maybe Jared’s got something going with the bitterness over people leaving. Jensen’s been hard for years, ever since he lost his parents and found the streets to pass the time. Samantha took him in a few years later, and she softened him up a bit, but nothing could really make him stop.
He’s racked up a long and storied past for juvenile delinquency, and here he is at thirty-two, in the same cell he’d occupied a dozen or so times in his teens.
This isn’t progress. He knows that.
The cell gate slides open, waking Jensen and making him squint to the harsh lights blasting off the white cement blocks around him.
Pellegrino steps into the opening and sounds wholly unimpressed when he says, “Let’s go. Up and at ‘em,” yet his mouth is turning a strange smile.
It makes Jensen uneasy, and he moves slowly. He rises and steps forward, eyes going everywhere they can reach to figure out what’s next. He’s never gone further than this moment, when Samantha would come bail him out, or his roommates back in Riverside. No one’s gonna get him out now, not after all the shit he’s pulled and with his brothers never on his side, no matter how much shit they’ve gotten into.
Pellegrino leads him through the underbelly of the police station, into the elevator and up, that same twisted smile on his face the whole time. Jensen glances around the elevator car and asks, “Where’s your boyfriend?”
“ER for a busted hand.” Jensen turns to Pellegrino, surprised but doing his best to keep it off his face. “Turns out when you fight a wall, it wins.”
When the doors open to the main floor, central booking, Pellegrino pushes Jensen forward, forcing him to stumble to the nearest counter. The officer on the other side is flat-faced and even more flat-toned as he shucks a manila envelope onto the counter and empties it of Jensen’s possessions and he rattles on about each item: wallet, lip balm, a handful of change, tin of mints.
Pellegrino signs a handful of forms and rips carbon copies from the back, handing originals to the other officer. He turns to Jensen, eyes right on him, and he leans in. “You do yourself a favor and keep your ass clean. Especially around these parts.”
There are so many questions, but Jensen won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He knows well enough here to keep his mouth shut and nod as he grabs his things off the counter and puts them back into pockets. He checks his wallet and stares at the empty middle slot.
“Hey, I’m forty bucks light!” he yells at Pellegrino, who’s walking back the way they’d entered the room.
“Ain’t that a bitch?” is faintly heard and Jensen grumbles as he turns away from the counter.
He ambles down the front steps of the police station, dawn just breaking, and he grumbles with the knowledge he’s been stuck inside for nearly a day. He’s out and all, but he’s bitter knowing they kept him this long.
But then he spots Jared, leaning against the side of his truck parked just across the street. He’s got his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and snapping his gum, looking so far beyond bored it’s pathetic.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Jensen asks, smiling as he approaches Jared.
Jared smacks his gum a few times, gaze going up and down with the same blasé look to him. “You look like shit.”
Jensen rolls his eyes and leans against the truck just beside Jared. “How’d you get me out?”
With a small shrug, Jared pulls himself up to stand rather normally. “What’s it matter? Now we’re even.”
Fire flares within, anger and shock filling Jensen up. He stands and glares at Jared. “If you did something stupid, so help me God.”
“Whatever. One good turn deserves another, right? You saved my ass when we were kids.”
“Jared,” he growls.
“Chill. Out. It’s not that big a deal.” When Jensen’s eyebrows rise towards his hairline, Jared smirks. “Collins gets one of us and they’ll stop trying so hard to nail you.”
“You are such a…” Jensen trails off.
“All I did was point the finger at Matt. Way I figure it, he’s due to serve time for all the shit he’s pulled on us.”
“Little devil,” Jensen finishes with a grin.
“I thought you’d like that,” Jared grins back, knocking his shoulder into Jensen’s.
“I do. You’ve learned well.” Jensen rests against the truck again and nods at Jared. “So, what’d you say?”
“Told them where to find the parts, and said Matt was drunk and stupid and pretty much himself.” They chuckle together and Jared purses his lips for a second before smiling again. “And then I said you couldn’t’ve done it because we were together all night.”
“Jared,” Jensen mumbles, unsure how to respond, really, but sure that he should.
He gives Jensen a long look that turns a bit warm and inviting. “We were.”
“Yeah, I remember,” Jensen replies lowly, licking his lower lip and glancing away. Willing away the small smile is impossible he realizes.
With Jared’s short laugh, Jensen turns to him again. He watches Jared’s eyes shine and his dimples pop with how hard he’s smiling, and Jensen can’t help the flare just beneath his skin, that familiar buzz from the night before. This most definitely is not his brother anymore - foster brother, even. He can feel pretty okay with this situation so long as they leave town and hang somewhere they’re unknowns.
“You ready to head out?” Jared asks, smacking Jensen’s shoulder for his attention.
“Yeah,” he replies, but stays put. “What now? What’d you have in mind?”
Jared shifts towards him and seems awkward for a moment. “I was thinking we could stop at that park Mom used to always take me to. As good as paying respects as we’re gonna get.”
Jensen’s nearly surprised with the calm that brews with that thought. It’s about time they actually honor her, and he nods in agreement. “What’re you doing after that?”
“I don’t know.” Jared shrugs and his eyes roam the station before them, settling on the sky above with a light smile. “What’re you doing after?”
Jensen always did like traveling. Wouldn’t be a bad idea if it were just him and Jared. Nothing but rubber on black tar, blaring music, and coasting from town to town, filling their time with odd jobs.
“I don’t know. What’re you doing?” Jensen asks, leading tone and tiny smirk to match.
Jared glares at him then shakes his head. “Why the hell did I save your ass?”
Jensen cocks his head. “Because I’m your favorite.”
“Whatever,” Jared laughs, punching at Jensen’s shoulder. “Let’s get away from this place. All these cops are making me nervous.”
Jared kicks Jensen’s foot and flicks his forehead as he passes, and Jensen scrambles to smack Jared right back. But he slows as soon as Jared shoots him a daring glare, and Jensen can be reminded of all the height and weight Jared now carries. So maybe Jared deserves to land a few blows from their time growing up, and perhaps Jensen owes Jared for bailing him out of jail.
He figures he’ll make it up to Jared later.