RPF FIC
What Are Little Boys Made Of?
(Drinking and kidding around leads to reminiscing about growing up and,
of course, getting into trouble – then and now)
Home of Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles
Vancouver, BC
Jared’s eyes lit up with a feverish enthusiasm as his fingers flew over the controls on the mini guitar in his hands, cheeks dimpling. He shot a triumphant grin over to Steve Carlson, who sat cross-legged on the floor directly across from him.
“Ha! Beat that!” Jared happily crowed.
Steve offered Jared an abashed look. He knew he shouldn’t have challenged the kid to this game. Knew it the moment both Chris and Jensen rolled their eyes at him, biting back snorts of laughter. But hell, it was basically playing a guitar, for chrissakes. He did that for a living! Must be Padalecki’s ginormous hands and ridiculously long fingers, Steve mused. Anyone would have an unfair advantage in this game with those.
“You can’t beat me at this, dude. I am the guitar hero,” Jared taunted further upon seeing Steve’s look of frustration.
Jared took a quick congratulatory swig from his bottle of beer; wide grin still plastered on his face, and then snugged the bottle back between his thighs for safekeeping, before concentrating on the game once more.
Chris Kane leaned back in his leather armchair, observing the youngest of their group this evening with a wry smile on his face. He had to admit that Jared was doing a rather impressive job of kicking Carlson’s butt at Guitar Hero, which was hilarious to Chris, since Steve was a talented musician by trade and Jared couldn’t figure out a G major chord on a real guitar to save his life.
Granted, Jared could play this particular game in his sleep, but Chris was amazed nonetheless. Especially when he factored in that Jared was also balancing a dish of ice cream on his left knee, at the same time as using his thighs as a vice grip to hold his beer bottle, all while using both hands to thumb the buttons on his game controller.
Both Harley and Sadie were stationed beside the couch, silent attending statues, on either side of Jared’s long splayed legs, their ears perked forward, eyes intently focused on their owner. Apparently, the dogs were also impressed with Jared’s juggling act, Chris mused, or they knew that sooner or later something was going to spill onto the floor and odds were good that it would be something edible.
Watching the way Jared twisted and lurched about on the couch, his entire body practically gyrating as he ‘played’ his guitar, Chris had to agree with the latter assumption. How the hell the dish of ice cream hadn’t fallen off Jared’s leg already, he couldn’t fathom.
Not that it really mattered, because he wouldn’t be the one cleaning up the mess if it did happen. Nope. That would fall to Jensen, most likely. Mr. Neat Freak.
Smirking at the thought, Chris brought his bottle of beer up to his mouth, took a long, slow swallow, and then pulled his booted feet up from the floor and plopped them lazily onto the cushioned ottoman in front of his chair, figuring to get more comfortable. He was looking forward to an evening with no specific plans other than to get drunk and hang out with friends.
He had been in town all week promoting his new show, Leverage, on the local TV and radio stations in Vancouver. Chris had called Jensen earlier to see if the younger actor would have some time to get together and maybe do dinner with Chris before he caught his return flight to LA. As luck would have it, Jensen, Jared and Steve were appearing at a Supernatural convention in town that weekend and Jensen had invited Chris to come along.
After some pleading over the phone by Jensen and finally, a bribe of steak and beer from Steve, Chris had agreed to the idea. He’d called the airlines and managed to get his flight pushed back to Monday, giving him plenty of time to make it over to the convention.
Hell, he hadn’t seen any of the guys in months and was really looking forward to it. And it certainly wouldn’t hurt to promote his show a little among the legions of Supernatural fans that would be there. That kind of viewer loyalty could guarantee a show more than a single season.
It had been a busy day full of picture taking, autograph sessions, fan meet and greets, and discussion panels. Exhausted, the four young men decided to spend the evening relaxing at Jared’s and Jensen’s home rather than hitting the crowded downtown bars.
“Man, did you see that one blonde chick in the pink mini?” Steve asked with an impish grin on his face. He let out a low appreciative whistle. “The one first in line for autographs?”
“Couldn’t help but check her out,” Jared said. “Nice legs.”
Jensen nodded, smile widening. “Yeah and an impressive rack to go with ‘em,” he added, amused at how much he sounded like Dean at that moment. Must be the beer, he thought absently.
Jensen caught Steve’s knowing grin and chuckled. “Man, when she bent down at our table in that little halter thingy to say hi, I almost forgot my own name.”
“Helluva perk, huh?” Steve chuckled.
“Helluva view.” Jensen replied, and both men laughed.
“Dude! You’ve got a girlfriend,” Chris teased Jensen.
Jared snorted. “Just ‘cause he’s got a girlfriend doesn’t mean he’s blind, Kane. Besides, she’s a thousand miles away, and no lie, that girl in line was hot.”
“Thank you, Jare,” Jensen said, patting Jared affectionately on the arm. “Always got my back, don’t you?” He rose from the couch, holding up his empty beer bottle. “Anyone else need a refill?”
Three negative replies came from Jared, Steve and Chris.
“’Kay, I’ll be back in a sec,” Jensen said. He gave his friends a playful scowl. “Don’t be talkin’ about me behind my back while I’m gone either.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Ackles,” Chris ribbed his friend. “Not everybody’s into your pretty boy looks, you know.”
Smiling to himself, Jensen turned and headed for the kitchen, firing a finger back at Chris over his shoulder.
Chris let out a tired but happy sigh as he sank back into the oversized chair he occupied. One good thing about having freakishly tall friends was that their furniture was always big and comfy. He crossed his legs, one over the other, and went back to quietly watching Jared and Steve currently battling it out over Enter the Sandman.
While Jared was waiting for his turn, he dove back into his ice cream, interspersing the spoonfuls with sips from his beer. Chris watched the young Texan a few moments longer, the crease between his brows slowly deepening.
“So, okay, I gotta ask,” Chris finally spoke up, his tone full of bemused curiosity. “What’s with the beer and ice cream, there, Ponyboy?”
“I’ve been meaning to ask that myself,” Steve muttered, laying his mini guitar across his lap and shaking out his tired hands. He glanced at Jared expectantly.
A put upon sigh came from behind the trio as Jensen returned from the kitchen, a fresh beer in his hand. Steve glanced over at Jensen, brow raised, but got no response from the man.
Instead, Jensen silently nudged Jared with his knee to move over and make room on the couch for him, which Jared did, sliding his lanky form over enough for Jensen to grab a seat next to him.
Jensen eyed his roommate unhappily, not for the first time that evening. “Dude, you know that’s gonna make you sick, right?”
“I don’t care,” Jared replied.
He licked a glob of the chocolate chip ice cream from the end of his spoon before grabbing up his bottle of beer and taking a long swig.
“That’s just gross,” Jensen stated. He made a gagging noise, face contorted in revulsion, and Chris snorted.
Steve eyed the younger boy, puzzled now. “Okay, I agree that’s not exactly the most appetizing combination I can think of, but how’s it going to make him sick?”
“Lactose intolerant,” Jensen clarified, shooting Jared another perturbed scowl. “Which means eating that,” he said, pointing at the bowl of semi-melted ice cream in Jared’s hands, “is gonna keep him up all night with a belly ache.”
Jensen rolled his eyes in mock disgust and then looked over at the other two men. “Don’t even get me started on the whole gas issue,” he muttered.
Jared offered up a winsome grin.
“You know you love me.”
“No, I don’t.” Jensen scoffed.
“Sure you do,” Jared insisted.
“Not when you’re gassy,” Jensen retorted.
Jared laughed. “Aw, it’s not that bad, Jen, c’mon.”
Jensen’s brows shot up. “Really?”
“What?” Jared asked.
Jensen stared at his roommate, incredulous. “Jared, even the dogs are afraid of your farts.”
Steve and Chris both spit beer, as Jared blushed deeply but joined in the laughter. Harley poked his head up from the floor, ears raised in interest at the commotion.
“You know that if those two,” Jensen continued, pointing to Harley and Sadie, “- who have no problem sniffing each other’s asses or nosing through the rotting garbage - can’t even stand to be around you when you’re cuttin’ one, then that’s some seriously lethal shit.”
Jensen grinned evilly at his co-star. “Face it, Jare, you’re toxic when you eat dairy.”
“Jerk,” Jared said, half-heartedly.
“Bitch,” Jensen promptly answered back.
Both boys smiled at the little inside joke.
“Why do you even eat that crap if it makes you sick?” Chris questioned, indicating the bowl of ice cream sitting on Jared’s lap.
“I don’t know.” Jared shrugged, spooning another bite into his mouth. “I like it for one, and I guess maybe ‘cause I wasn’t allowed to have any when I was growin’ up.”
“Probably to save on fumigation bills,” Jensen muttered jokingly.
Jared elbowed his friend in the ribs. He smiled brightly. “Yeah, well, now I’m my own boss, so I can eat whatever the hell I want.”
As if to prove his point, Jared chugged some of his beer, letting out a satisfied burp and then followed it up with a large dripping spoonful of ice cream.
“Yeah, that’s great, Jared,” Jensen commented. “You finally decide to become a rebel and I’m the one that pays for it.”
“A total delinquent,” Steve chuckled.
“A delinquent? Him?” Chris eyed Jared dubiously, and then snorted. “Gimme a break!” He shook his head, lips curving into a smirk. “Hell, I bet you were the good little southern boy growing up, weren’t you, Jared?”
Jared shrugged, ignoring the taunt.
“Always following the rules and minding your manners, never ditched school or got arrested,” Chris continued, teasingly.
Jensen and Steve both turned to look at Chris, amusement dancing in their eyes.
Jensen grinned. “Well, we know you can’t say the same, Christian.”
“Oh? And why’s that?” Chris asked, eyes narrowing.
“’Cause I can think of at least one particular run in with the cops on Santa Monica Boulevard a few years back that got a little nasty. Remember?”
Steve chimed in. “Forget that, man, what about the gig in Dallas, when Chris-”
Chris quickly interrupted. “Yeah. Thanks. Got it.” He cleared his throat, shooting both Steve and Jensen a dirty look. “Like you two are so innocent,” he challenged.
“I never said I was,” Steve chuckled, holding up his hands.
“Me neither,” Jensen joined in. “Shit, I got into plenty of trouble back in Richardson, man. Just ask my dad.”
“Well, I did too,” Jared huffed, feeling somewhat left out now. “Despite what y’all think, I wasn’t a total angel growing up.”
“Oh, yeah?” Chris sounded skeptical. “So, what kind of trouble did you get into, Padalecki? Get a B minus on your report card in junior high?”
Jensen bit his lip hard, trying not to grin while Steve muffled his snicker with an obviously fake cough.
Not amused, Jared gave them the finger in reply. He was tempted to fling a spoonful of ice cream at them, but didn’t want to waste it. He took another bite of the dessert instead, smacking his lips noisily into Jensen’s ear, much to Jensen’s amused disgust.
“Nice comeback, sasquatch,” Jensen murmured as he leaned away from his roommate with an annoyed grimace. He gave Jared’s knee a playful bump with his leg. “C’mon, Jare, pony up. What big, bad things have you done?”
“You first,” Jared countered evenly. His mischievous gaze traveled around the room. “So, okay, what’s the most trouble y’all got into when you were younger?”
Chris snorted. “Easy. Grand theft auto.”
There was a hint of pride in the actor’s voice that didn’t go unnoticed by the other occupants of the living room. They fell silent, sharing speculative looks.
“Well, that beats my story,” Jensen admitted quietly.
“Care to elaborate, Chris?” Steve asked, eyeing the other man.
Chris nodded, a smile curving his lips. “I was fourteen and I boosted my momma’s station wagon to go joyriding with some friends.”
“Wow, a station wagon…” Steve noted dryly. “Your shitty taste in wheels started at an early age, didn’t it?”
“Fuck you, Carlson! My ’56 pickup is a classic.”
“Yeah, a classic piece of shit,” Jensen countered, chuckling.
“Well, my old girl may not be as tricked out as your gay-mobile, Jenny, but I like it,” Chris retorted.
Jared and Steve hooted with laughter, watching Jensen’s cheeks flame.
“Real funny, smart ass.” Jensen shot his old friend a withering look. He grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table in front of him and threw it at Chris.
The dogs immediately leapt up from the floor and bounded over to Chris to get to the popcorn that had fallen around him. Chris yelped in surprise as he was suddenly assaulted by canine noses, paws and tongues.
Jensen smirked.
“I still can’t believe you stole your own momma’s car,” Jared said, purposely ignoring his dogs’ antics, despite Chris’ pleas to call them off.
Jensen was his roommate and his best friend. He couldn’t, in good conscience, allow Chris to get away with the slur to Jensen’s manhood. Never mind that he’d laughed along with Steve at the crack. Besides, it was pretty funny watching Chris squirm as Harley shamelessly nosed the man’s crotch in search of more popcorn.
Once the animals were convinced there was no more food to be had, they left Chris in relative peace and returned to their places near the couch, lying down, noses almost resting on Jared’s and Jensen’s feet.
“Dude, that’s so wrong what you did. That was your mom.” Jared eyed Chris, disbelief mixed with a bit of admiration coming through in his tone. “Your mother, Chris. The woman who gave birth to you.”
Chris’ grin split his face, eyes dancing in amusement, dog assault forgotten. “Oh, that ain’t the worst of it,” he said.
“You’re kidding. There’s more?” Jared leaned forward in fascination, setting his half-finished bowl of ice cream on the carpeted floor by his feet, where Sadie promptly claimed it as hers.
Jensen watched the dog eagerly slurping up the melted dessert and shook his head, eyes narrowed in speculation. Casually, he reached down, grabbed the bowl from under the dog’s nose and placed it up on the coffee table, giving his roommate a mild glare of disapproval. He was so not cleaning up after that mutt if she got sick. Nope. Not happening. Again.
Jared ignored him, although he couldn’t help the small smile that ghosted across his lips. As much as Jensen complained, to anyone who would listen, about the dogs being messy, dirty and a general pain in the ass, Jared knew that Jensen cared for them almost as much as he did.
Chris slid his feet off the ottoman and back onto the floor, leaning forward, matching Jared’s attentive attitude. He was only too happy to elaborate on his story.
“I was ‘bout fourteen, so, you know, I didn’t have a driver’s license or anything yet, but I’d seen my daddy driving all the time and it didn’t look that hard. And I wanted to impress this one girl-”
“Just one?” Jensen asked in mock surprise. “Not the usual harem?”
“Shut up,” Chris said, laughing. He continued. “So, anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, so, my folks were over at a neighbor’s house - some party or something - I don’t remember, but I was out in the yard hanging with some friends, and we got bored.”
“Remind me not to let you ever get bored,” Jared commented.
Chris chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. “You already know what happens when I get bored.”
“Car surfing!” The other three sang out in unison.
Chris leveled a sour look at Jensen. “Yeah, and thanks by the way, for filming it, asshole. That thing hit You Tube and I couldn’t get a freaking acting gig for months. No one wanted to risk insuring me on set after that.”
“Hey, I was merely preserving the moment for posterity’s sake,” Jensen replied.
“For posterity, huh?”
“Yeah, you know, in case you’d taken a header off the hood and we needed proof that you’d actually died of your own stupidity.”
“Well, thanks, Jenny,” Chris stated. “I’ll be sure to do the same for you next time. In fact, I wish I’d thought of it that time.”
“Quit callin’ me Jenny,” Jensen said, “I don’t call you Christy.”
Chris laughed. “That’s ‘cause I’m not a big chick…Jenny.”
“Fucker,” Jensen stated, smiling nonetheless as he took a drink of his beer.
“Wait,” Jared interrupted excitedly, giving his roommate a suspicious look. “Jensen hood surfed that night too?”
Jensen’s cheeks flushed crimson; he nervously picked at the label on his beer bottle, but said nothing.
Chris smiled widely. “He never told you?”
“Nuh uh,” Jared replied, grinning back. He turned on the couch and poked Jensen in the shoulder. “I’m gonna tell your mom on you,” he stated, eyes shining with delight.
Jensen’s eyes shot wide. “Dude, I will so kick your ass, I swear…” Jensen warned, a note of alarm in his voice.
“Yup, gonna tell,” Jared teased happily, batting at Jensen’s hand which was trying to smack him in the head. “Momma and Papa Ackles have a right to know, Jensen. They need to know their little boy is a great big dumbass that hangs out with other dangerous dumb asses.”
“You better be including yourself in that grouping, then,” Jensen stated tartly. “Because I can recall some pretty stupid stunts you’ve pulled on location that might’ve gotten you into some hot water with Eric if he’d found out, not to mention your parents would’ve had dual heart attacks.”
Jared quieted instantly, although the twinkle never completely left his eyes.
“Uh, you two losers mind if I finish my story?” Chris asked, his gaze flitting between the two Texas boys.
“Fuck you,” Jensen shot back.
“Yeah, what he said,” Jared added.
Jensen turned to Jared, his face full of mock offense. “Dude, get your own retort,” he gently chided.
“I can use the same one if I want to,” Jared declared. “You don’t have a-”
“Jesus Christ, they really are like a little old married couple,” Steve announced, getting up from his seat to grab another beer. “Do we need to get you two into couple’s therapy?”
Two long legs kicked out, connecting simultaneously with Steve’s backside as he passed by the couch. Steve stumbled and swore. Jared and Jensen high-fived each other, grinning like crazy.
Chris mumbled something under his breath about “Texas motherfuckers” as he grabbed the remote off the couch arm and snapped the TV off and then flicked the stereo on as he passed by it on the way to the kitchen.
The Hollies “Long Cool Woman” was playing and Jensen, Chris and Jared paused to listen for a moment, all three suddenly bursting in on the refrain with exaggerated emphasis.
“She was a looonnnggg cool wooomannnn in a black dressssss!”
A round of rowdy laughter followed before Chris returned to his tale. “So back to the story - I grabbed the car keys from my mom’s purse when she wasn’t looking and a bunch of us piled into the station wagon and took off.”
“To where?” Jared asked, settling back onto the couch, beer bottle resting on his right thigh.
Chris shrugged.
“I think we decided to hit the Dairy Queen or something. We figured we’d get us some sundaes and make it back before anyone at the party even knew we were gone.”
He looked down, a grin of embarrassment creeping onto his face.
“Didn’t quite work out that way though, ‘cause we never made it any farther than a few blocks away before I lost control of the car, trying to make a left turn going about oh, thirty, thirty-five miles an hour.”
“Holy shit, dude,” Jared gasped.
“Drove right through the Wanamaker’s picket fence and into their front yard before my foot found the brake.” Chris snorted with laughter at the memory. “Man, the tires tore the lawn all to hell and then I smashed into a big old poplar tree next to their front sidewalk.”
“Did anyone get hurt?” Jensen questioned.
“Nope,” Chris replied. “My momma’s station wagon had a busted grille and bent front axle, but all us kids were fine. Not even a scratch on us.” He finished the last of his beer and set the bottle down on the floor, pointing at the dogs and giving them a stern eye.
“No,” he commanded, when Harley made to rise.
Jared reached down to pat Harley’s huge head and pushed him back down to the floor. The dog complied, but not before letting out a disappointed grunt.
Steve came back into the room just then, a sly grin on his face, his hands loaded down with a bottle of Patron, a bowl of lemon wedges, a salt shaker and four shot glasses. “Time to move on to the hard stuff,” he announced.
Jensen and Jared groaned, but readily accepted a glass and a wedge from their friend. Chris leaned over and took his own and then Steve poured each person a liberal shot. He passed around the saltshaker and then raised his own shot glass, winking at his friends.
“Here’s to Chris and his bad ass driving skills,” he said.
“Or lack thereof,” Jared added.
Laughing, all four men licked the salt off their hands, drank, then bit into the lemon wedges before slamming their empty glasses down onto the coffee table, startling the dogs.
“So, y’all survived, but the front yard and the car were trashed. Did the neighbors call the cops?” Jensen asked.
Chris shook his head.
“I’m surprised you didn’t end up in jail, you dumbass,” Steve commented, pouring another round into everyone’s shot glass.
“Hell, I’da preferred a little jail time over what I got,” Chris said, downing his second shot of tequila with a grimace.
“Why? What did you get?” Jensen asked.
Chris’s smile was rueful. “My daddy’s belt across my bare ass,” he replied. “Man, I had welts on top of welts after he got done with me.”
Jared whistled. “Ouch,” he whispered.
Chris let out a pained grunt in agreement. “Don’t think I sat down again until that Christmas. I wasn’t allowed to get my license until I was almost eighteen either. Totally sucked.”
“Damn,” Jensen said, shaking his head in sympathy. “I never got the belt on the bare, but I did get it pretty bad once,” he said.
“Yeah?” Jared said, curious. “For what?”
Jensen squirmed, rolling his eyes. “Ah, it was stupid,” he mumbled, suddenly embarrassed.
“Like driving a car into a tree wasn’t?” Steve questioned.
Chris leveled a glare at Steve. “Shut up, asshole, I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“No, you were just trying to impress a girl, right?”
Jared threw his head back in a laugh.
“Whatever. It’s Jensen’s turn,” Chris replied. He motioned to Jensen with his empty shot glass. “So, tell us, pretty boy, what’d ya do to earn yourself a belt whupping?”
Jensen ran a hand through his short hair, letting out a belabored sigh. “Me and some friends broke into a store and stole some stuff.”
“Oh yeah! You told that story to that Norwegian magazine, didn’t you?” Jared spoke up, pointing at Jensen. “Remember? When we were so hung over?”
“You guys gave an interview while you were drunk?” Steve blinked in surprise.
“We weren’t drunk,” Jensen corrected. “We were hung over from being drunk the night before.”
Steve’s critical expression didn’t change.
“Dude, it was Norway! C’mon!” Jensen squirmed. “And hung over is not drunk,” he reiterated quietly.
“Whatever you say, Ackles,” Chris commented, chuckling. “So, what’s being drunk in Norway got to do with you getting your ass whipped? Or was that what was going on in some club the night before you gave the interview?”
Jared cracked up. “Dude, leather bar,” he ribbed.
Jensen looked at Jared. “You were there too, you moron.”
Jared’s smile faltered. “Oh, yeah. Never mind,” he quickly said. “Back to your stealing. How old were you?”
Jensen thought for a minute, indicating to Steve to refill everyone’s shot glasses. “Uh, I was prob’ly sixteen? Fifteen?”
Chris nodded. “Sounds ‘bout the right age for that kind of thing.”
Jensen continued, picking up his shot glass full of tequila. He stared at the pale amber liquid a moment. “We used to sneak into the back alleys behind stores n’ break in using a tire iron wrapped up in a jacket.”
“Were you hard up or what?” Jared questioned his friend, clearly puzzled.
Jensen rolled his eyes. “No. I don’t know. We were just being stupid. It’s not like I couldn’t afford to buy the stuff if I really wanted it.” He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the memory. “It was the thrill of doing something you knew you shouldn’t and getting away with it, I guess. We thought it was cool. Hell, half the time, we didn’t even keep the stuff we took. Just gave it away to friends or tossed it in a dumpster.”
“But, then, you got caught,” Steve said.
Jensen nodded. “Yup.” He let out a short huff. “I brought home a couple tennis rackets that last time. I was gonna give ‘em to a girl I was dating at the time.”
“You ever notice how we keep doing really stupid shit just to impress girls?” Chris snorted, shaking his head.
Steve nodded. He raised his shot glass. “To being stupid for chicks!”
All four men drank down the tequila and roared their approval.
“Go on with your story, man,” Chris encouraged Jensen.
“Not much left to tell,” Jensen replied. “I hid the rackets under my bed and my mom found them.”
Jared’s brows rose. “Your mom made your bed for you, didn’t she? You were sixteen years old and your -”
“Shut up,” Jensen cut Jared off, and Jared laughed. “I remember coming home from a friend’s and both my mom and dad were waiting for me in the living room,” Jensen said. “My mom had the tennis rackets sitting out on the coffee table, and as soon as I saw ‘em there, I knew I was busted.”
“How’d they know you didn’t borrow them from someone?” Jared asked.
Jensen made a face. “Yeah. I kinda forgot to pull the price tags off, and it was big news around town about the break in at the store, so it wasn’t too hard to put two and two together.”
Chris grinned. “Who’s the dumbass now?”
“Okay, you’re still king of the idiots for crashing your mom’s car, so chill,” Steve countered, giving his friend a knowing look.
Jared gave Jensen a sympathetic smile. “So, you’re daddy used his belt on you for robbing the store and stealing the rackets?”
“No, he didn’t use his belt,” Jensen replied. “He made me take my belt off and he used that.”
Jared choked slightly. “No.”
Jensen nodded. “Oh, yeah. After he and my mom finished lecturing me about the evils of theft and how disappointed they were in me, they grounded me for infinity. And then Dad marched me upstairs to my room, made me bend over my bed, and laid into me with my own freaking belt.”
“Bet’cha never wore that belt again,” Chris said with an evil smirk.
“No shit, dude,” Jensen affirmed. “Sixteen years old and I cried like a baby,” he added softly. “That fucking belt hurt! Especially, when I wouldn’t rat out the other guys that had been with me. I thought my dad was gonna flay my butt right off me.”
“And you prob’ly felt bad about hurting your folks too,” Jared added.
“Yeah, I felt like shit,” Jensen replied. “My dad worked out a deal with the store owner, so I didn’t get arrested. But, I had to pay for the damages to the store window and stolen stuff.”
“And so ended your career as a petty thief,” Steve said, reaching for the bottle of tequila.
“I don’t think I ever stole anything again in my life,” Jensen said.
“’Cept for some of my scenes,” Jared teased.
“Yeah, well, I can’t help it if I emote better than you,” Jensen cracked.
Jared arched a brow at his friend. “Oh, please, who’s the one they call the emo brother? Hmm? Who’s the one all the fans say has ‘puppy dog eyes’, Jen?”
Jensen nodded. “You’re right. You’re the girl.”
Jared gave him a light kick in the shin in reply, smirking. “That’s not what I meant.”
Still grinning, Jensen reached out to tousle Jared’s long hair as proof of his statement. Jared batted Jensen’s hand away, laughing.
“Shut up, man, they make me wear my hair like this.” Jared sat up and pointed at Steve and Chris. “They’ve got long hair too!”
“Gives the ladies something to grab onto,” Steve said, winking, and the other three men burst into laughter.
“Padalecki, you’re up,” Chris announced.
“What about Steve?” Jared nodded at the musician in question.
Steve gulped down his shot of tequila, growling as the liquid burned down his throat and then set the empty glass onto the coffee table.
“My parents weren’t really into the whole physical discipline thing,” he said.
Jensen frowned. “So, what then? You never got spanked growing up?”
“Not by my parents, except for once,” Steve replied. “But, my granny used to babysit me and my cousins a lot and she had no problem beating our asses when we needed it.”
Steve leaned back, settling his hands behind him on the floor to support his upper body as he stretched his legs out in front of him.
“She couldn’t have been more than a hundred pounds, but that woman could pack a wallop when she was mad.” He laughed. “I remember once when I was like twelve, me and my cousin, Jimmy, snuck some of her cigarettes and went out behind the garage to smoke them. The neighbor next door saw us hacking and gasping and called my granny to let her know what we were doing.”
Chris chuckled. “Carlson got his ass kicked by his little ninety-pound grandma – I love it.”
“Dude, me and my cousin were sitting there in the dirt behind the garage, cigarettes hanging from our lips, and she comes tearing around the corner, cussing a blue streak at us.” Steve started laughing, eyes crinkling at his own misfortune.
“Jimmy spits out his smoke and knocks me over on his way over the chain link fence into the neighbor’s yard as I’m still just sitting like a dumb fuck, watching my grandma coming at me.”
“You sure that was tobacco you were smoking?” Jensen teased.
Steve smiled. “Oh, man, if it’d been weed, I wouldn’t be alive now to tell the tale. She’da taken my head along with my ass.”
“So, you missed the memo to run and ended up facing the wrath of gran,” Jared snorted.
Steve nodded. “Yeah. She grabbed me by the hair on the top of my head-”
Jensen pointed. “See? Long hair, man…”
“…and yanked me up from the ground, smacked the cigarette out of my mouth, and then bent me over her hip and spanked me right there in the yard,” Steve continued, trying not to crack up. “I was so pissed at my cousin for ditching me and leaving me to take the heat. Little shit.”
“I’m assuming he got his at some point, though, right?” Jared asked.
Chris smiled. “I’m sure if Granny Carlson didn’t get him, Steve did.”
“Damn straight,” Steve asserted. “While I was doing time in the corner after getting my ass beat, the neighbor guy brought Jimmy home and he got it with my grandma’s hairbrush for running.”
“Serves him right,” Jared said.
Steve’s grin widened. “Yeah, well that wasn’t the end of it though. Remember when I said my parents only spanked me once in my life?”
Jensen and Chris both began laughing.
“No way, man,” Jensen said between snickers. “You got it twice? Seriously?”
Steve nodded. “I’ll tell you what, too. They may not have spanked me growing up, but my folks must have read about it or something, because my dad sure knew what the hell he was doing.”
Jared’s eyes grew wide. “What do you mean?”
Steve explained, shaking his head at the memory. “My dad sits down in a chair in the kitchen and pulls me up to him and does the whole ‘talk’ with the ‘why are you getting this spanking?’ bit and all.”
Steve grabbed the bottle of tequila and poured a shot for himself. “And then he grabs up my Granny’s hairbrush, hauls me over his lap, tells me this if for my own good-”
“Always loved that line,” Chris commented dryly.
“And then he lays into me for like five minutes straight with that goddamn brush. Or, at least it felt like it was that long after already having gotten it from my Granny. Christ, you’d think his arm would get tired or something, but nope. Just keeps whaling on me until I’m yelling at the top of my lungs how sorry I am and how I won’t do it again.” He snorted. “My butt was glowing red for the rest of the night, like Rudolph’s fucking nose.”
“And yet, you still smoke,” Jensen stated, pointing at the pack of cigarettes peaking out of the top of the other man’s shirt pocket. “Guess you didn’t learn your lesson.”
“What can I say? I’m a rebel,” Steve declared.
“Or you’re just hoping to get your ass beat some more, perv,” Chris said.
“Fuck you,” Steve retorted.
Chris grinned. He turned to Jared, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. “All right boys and girls. The one we’ve all been waiting for. Jared Padalecki and his tale of getting his tail busted.”
Jared blushed, embarrassed, offering up a small grin at the intro.
“It’s not really that big a story,” he said, looking down at his hands in his lap. He methodically began to crack his knuckles, one at a time, a sign of his nervousness.
Jensen, noticing the motion and realizing it for what it was, reached over and rested his hand on his roommate’s knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Hey, Jay, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said softly.
“No, I want to,” Jared explained. He rubbed his hands on the thighs of his jeans. “My story just doesn’t sound as cool as y’alls does. I didn’t steal a car or try smoking or anything like that.”
“See? I told ya,” Chris snorted, flopping back further into his chair, a look a scorn on his face. He pushed his hair behind his ears, with a disgruntled sigh. “It’s gonna be a bad report card or he pushed his sister in the mud or something.”
Steve shook his head, chuckling softly. “Give the kid a chance, Kane, Jesus. You’re such an asshole when you’re drunk.”
“M’not drunk,” Chris stated. He reached for the tequila, grinning. “Yet.” He motioned with the bottle at Jared. “Sorry. Go ahead, wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”
Jensen opened his mouth and Chris pointed at him in warning.
“No comments from the peanut gallery.”
Jensen snapped his mouth shut, but not without a smug look towards Steve, who nodded in silent agreement, that yes, Chris could be an asshole sometimes.
A soft smile ghosting over his face, Jared wiggled around on the couch like an antsy five-year-old, trying to make himself more comfortable, and bringing a soft smile to Jensen’s lips as the older man suddenly looked down, shaking his head in amusement at Jared’s antics.
“What?” Jared asked.
“Nothing,” Jensen softly replied, chuckling. “Go for it, Jared.”
Jared graced Jensen with a bright smile. “Yeah, okay, cool. So, I was fifteen and this was during the summer in San Antonio. Me and my best friend, Brian, were at my house and my folks were at work.”
“Well, that spells trouble right there,” Jensen quipped. “Where was Jeff?”
“Obviously not watching his little brother,” Chris said dryly.
Jared nodded. “Yeah, he was off with his girlfriend, I think. And anyway, I was fifteen. I didn’t need a babysitter.”
Jensen nodded at Chris and Steve while Jared wasn’t looking, causing both men to snort in amusement. Jared cast a suspicious eye back on Jensen, who smiled innocently and offered Jared a shot of tequila. Jared slowly took the offered drink, pretended to sniff it warily while making a face, then burst into giggles and set the shot down on the coffee table.
“Later,” he commented. He continued with his story. “So, like me and my buddy ended up catching a ride from his mom downtown to go see a movie. And well, we got there too late for the one movie and way too early for anything else, so we figured we’d just hang out and wait for the next show.”
“Pippi Longstocking?” Jensen asked, trying to keep a straight face.
“Care Bears movie?” Steve offered, joining in on the fun.
“You guys are assholes,” Jared said, throwing a lemon wedge at Steve’s head. He laughed despite himself. “I don’t even remember what movie it was, man. We never got to see it anyway.”
“Why was that?” Chris asked, sitting up in interest.
Jared held up a finger at Chris, motioning for him to wait, while he grabbed up his tequila shot and slammed it down. He scrunched his face up at the burn of the liquor and then reached for a lemon wedge from the bowl to cut the taste.
“Going down a little hard, there, San Antonio?” Chris joked.
“Nope,” Jared gasped, and Jensen playfully pounded his friend’s back in mock concern until Jared snorted and pushed him away. “Quit, you fucker,” he wheezed, choking and laughing at the same time.
“Y’okay? Ready to go on?” Jensen asked, smirking. “Need me to call 911?”
“Kiss my ass,” Jared teased back.
He choked, gasping with laughter again when Jensen puckered his lips and bent down towards Jared’s denimed rear. Steve and Chris clapped and cheered.
Jensen sat back up before reaching his destination, smiling wide at Jared. “You thought I was gonna do it, didn’t you?”
“Well, hell, you sure looked like you were,” Jared replied. “And you say I’m the crazy one.”
“That’s because I don’t do shit like that in public, Jared,” Jensen said.
“I’ve never tried to make out with your butt in public!”
“No, but you’ve humped my leg on more than one occasion,” Jensen countered smoothly.
Jared’s mouth fell open. “You said that was funny.”
Jensen had the decency to appear chagrined. He looked over at Steve and Chris. “You see? You see what happens when I encourage him? No wonder our fans think the way they do.”
“Dude! You twizzled me on camera!” Jared stated, pointing accusingly at Jensen.
“He what?” Steve and Chris said at the same time.
Excited now, Jared nodded. “Yeah, he totally twizzeled me and it got on Youtube and everything.”
“That sounds vaguely dirty,” Chris mused.
Jensen rolled his eyes. “I poked him in the face with a candy stick.”
“Okay, that definitely sounds dirty,” Steve said, amused when Jensen glared at him. “And as much as I’d love to hear all about your platonic declaration of love with a ‘candy stick’, we need to save that story for another time, ‘cause we’re getting off subject here.”
Jensen let out a hefty sigh of annoyance at being the butt of his friends’ humor once again, but otherwise remained silent.
Turning on the couch to face Jensen, Jared offered up his opinion on the subject. He gave a rather cheesy smile and stuck his tongue out his roommate.
Jensen returned the favor by smacking Jared in the arm.
“Owwww,” Jared lazily drawled, grinning stupidly.
“You’re totally buzzed, aren’t you?” Jensen accused.
Jared nodded happily.
“Well before you decide to pass out on us, how ‘bout you finish your story?” Chris suggested.
“Where was I?” Jared asked. The tequila was making his thought processes a little fuzzy around the edges.
“You and your friend were gonna see a movie, but you didn’t for some reason,” Steve helpfully provided. “So, what did you do instead?”
Jared’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah, that’s right. We, um, we got drunk!”
The room erupted in cackles of laughter.
“Jared, seriously?” Jensen managed to get out in between snorts of laughter.
Jared nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. There was this little mom and pop type liquor store across the street from the movie theater, and me and Brian wandered in, just for something to do while we waited.”
“How’d you get in the store? You were underage.” Steve said.
“I was tall back then too, so I looked older,” Jared replied.
“Not with that baby face,” Chris challenged, eyeing Jared critically.
“Whatever,” Jared said, rolling his eyes. “We sort of just slipped in behind some lady. The store owner prob’ly thought we were her kids or somethin’.”
Sadie whined faintly and Jared looked down to see his dog politely wagging her tail, staring up at him with her “I have to go” look. He struggled to get up from the couch, until Steve put his hands up to stop him.
“Dude, sit. I’ll do it.” Steve rose from the floor and patted his pants leg as he headed for the sliding door out to the backyard. Sadie immediately trotted off after him, Harley rising up from his spot near Jensen’s feet to follow.
“Go on with your story, Jared,” Steve urged over his shoulder as he let the dogs out, flicking on the backyard light for them.
“’Kay, so, we were sort of nervous, you know? ‘Bout being in the store and gettin’ caught, so we headed for the last aisle, farthest from the register. I don’t think we really had planned to do anything bad; we just were goofing around, daring each other and stuff.”
Jensen shot Jared a stern look. “Underage drinking. I should have known. You lush.”
“Yup. That’s me,” Jared chuckled and nodded. “Brian was actually the one that took the bottle of Smirnoff off the shelf and opened it,” he said, giving a regretful snort. “He held it out to me and dared me to take a swig, so of course, I had to do it.”
“Oh, of course,” Chris and Jensen both echoed sarcastically.
“Wait, dude, you drank the vodka in the middle of the store?” Steve asked. Puzzled, he came back to sit down again in front of the coffee table. “Why didn’t you just stuff the bottle under your shirt or down your pants and take it outside?”
“Because that’s what a normal teenager would do, Steve,” Jensen gently confided, earning a half-hearted shove from Jared.
“Shut up, man,” Jared said, trying to look hurt, but not accomplishing it very well. “We were too afraid of the owner. He was like this big, hulking dude with tattoos and a uni-brow.”
Jensen fell back against the couch cushions, laughing hysterically. “A uni-brow?! You were scared of a uni-brow!”
Jared blushed, a pleased grin splitting his face. “Anyway, me and my buddy just stood there in the aisle and passed the bottle back and forth until we’d drank probably close to a third of it. I just remember Brian trying to pass it back to me and I was feeling too dizzy and afraid I’d puke, so I just shook my head.”
“You didn’t worry that the owner or some clerk or something was gonna come over to check you out?” Chris asked.
“I think by then, we were too drunk to care or think about that,” Jared confessed with a shrug. “We screwed the cap back on the bottle and put it back on the shelf and staggered out of the store, giggling.”
“Then whad’ja do, Cap’n Morgan?” Jensen asked.
Jared rolled his eyes, feeling stupid all of a sudden. “We basically found a bench outside the movie theater and passed out on it.” He shifted on the couch, pulling his long legs up to sit Indian style. “We woke up to Brian’s mom, honking her horn at us from the curb.”
“Jesus, Jared, you guys must’ve been passed out there in front of the theater for a couple hours,” Steve commented. His amazed stare made Jared fidget. “That’s hilarious, man. I just never pictured you doing something like that.”
Chris shot Steve a bemused look. “What was he s’posed to do, Carlson? Look for the nearest flophouse? He was fourteen for-”
“Fifteen,” Jensen butted in.
“Fifteen. Whatever,” Chris continued, “The point is, he was a kid, he was wasted and he found the closest place to sleep it off.”
Chris glanced up to notice Jared smiling warmly at him. “What?” Chris asked, the wary irritation evident in his tone.
“Nothing,” Jared replied, still smiling at the other man. “Just that you care.”
“Oh, Christ,” Chris muttered, shaking his head as he reached for the bottle of Patron once again. “Just get on with the story, you fucktard.” He raised a brow at Jensen, a doubtful smile on his unshaven face. “How the hell do you put up with him when he’s like this?”
Jared snorted at that, but continued with his tale. “So, yeah, Brian’s mom is laying on the horn, so we get up, still feeling pretty foo-barred, and start stumbling towards the car…” Jared paused for dramatic emphasis.
“And?” Jensen coaxed.
“And, we get to the car, right? And my hand’s on the door handle even…when the owner of the liquor store comes bolting out of the store, straight for us.”
“Fuck, no way!” Chris said, sitting forward, eyes widening in delight. “You got busted right in the middle of the street?”
Jared nodded, looking sheepish. “Oh, we got so busted. The guy was screaming at Brian’s mom through her window, telling her what we did, and me and Brian were still too buzzed to come up with a lie. Plus, I mean, we totally reeked of alcohol, so it’s not like a lie was gonna cover that up.”
“Breath mints,” Jensen said, nodding sagely.
Steve and Chris looked at Jensen and snorted with derision.
“Really? Breath mints, Ackles?” Chris asked, incredulous.
“What? You’ve never used gum or mints to hide that you’ve had a drink?” Jensen questioned.
“Dude, they downed a fifth of vodka in like twenty minutes. They woulda needed a barrel of Tic-Tacs and a gallon of Scope to cover that up.”
Jensen quirked a smile at his own error. He held up his empty shot glass. “It’s the tequila, man. I can’t think straight. Liquor’s gone to my head.”
The next thing Jensen knew, he was being bombarded with sticks of gum and various breath mints by his other three cohorts.
“Fuck!” he gasped, batting a Lifesavers out of the air before it smacked him in the nose. He dodged a stick of gum, laughing hard. “Okay! I get it! No more talk about mints!”
Jensen calmly reached up and grabbed a stick of gum off his right shoulder, unwrapped it and stuck it in his mouth, ignoring Chris’ chuckle. He picked up another piece from where it lay on his thigh and offered it to Jared.
“Gum?”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks,” Jared said, happily taking the gum. He quickly unwrapped it and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing noisily.
The room broke into uncontrolled snickers after that and it took a few moments for everyone to settle down, helped along by another round of shots.
“So, okay,” Jared said. “Back to me being fifteen and drunk and about to get killed for it.” He reached down, to yank off his Skechers, tossing them over towards the wall, out of the way. “The guy was pretty pissed off about what we did, and Brian’s mom ended up having to pay for the bottle of vodka before the owner would let us go.”
“No charges?” Jensen asked.
Jared shook his head. “Nope. He just wanted his money and told us not to ever come back to his store or he’d call the cops next time. Brian’s mom read us the riot act all the way home too. And that really sucked ‘cause she’s got this kind of high-pitched squeaky voice, you know? And it’s really irritating to listen to, especially when she’s all mad and you’re all drunk,” Jared stated sadly.
“I wish I could’a seen your mom’s face when she found out,” Jensen teased. “Her baby boy. All shit-faced. Tsk, tsk.”
Jared made a face. “Well, I wasn’t too bad by the time I got dropped off at my house, but I sure as hell didn’t earn any brownie points when I stopped to puke into my mom’s rose bushes by the porch right as my dad opened the front door.”
“Oh shit, man,” Chris muttered in sympathy. “No hiding being drunk after that.”
“Dude, you were toast,” Jensen declared. “I know your dad, Jared. He musta kicked your ass all the way from San Antonio to Austin, man.”
Jared laughed softly, remembering the incident. “Hey, at least he was kind enough to let me sleep it off before he laid into me.”
“Yeah, the better to feel the burn, dude,” Steve said.
Jared agreed with a regretful nod. “My daddy took me out to the garage the next morning after breakfast for my punishment, which was totally embarrassing because like everyone at the table knew what was gonna happen and I hadn’t gotten a spanking in years.”
“Like how many years?” Steve asked, curious.
Jared blushed, hiding behind his fringe of bangs. “I think I was nine or ten the last time,” he mumbled. “Set off one of those little bottle rockets in the house.”
Jensen’s brows quirked in surprise at that. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart kid,” he teased. “Doesn’t it even say on the packages of those things not to set them off in the-”
“Right. Whatever, Mr. tennis burglar,” Jared retorted. “You wanna hear about me getting my ass beat or not?”
“Absolutely,” Jensen replied, rubbing his hands together in enthusiasm. “Hey, did Jeff and Megan razz you after?” Jensen asked.
Jared gave him a dark look. “Of course!”
A smile crossed Chris’ face. “Yeah, me and my sister used to do that too.”
Jensen nodded. “Same here. Guess it’s a sibling thing, huh?”
Jared continued. “I don’t know about y’all, but in our home, the garage is where my daddy gave out all the spankings. He had this old workbench out there, and he’d sit down and, you know, he’d uh, pull you over his knee n’ lay down the law.”
“Belt?” Chris guessed.
“Nuh uh,” Jared replied. “But he made me take my jeans down.”
“You’re kidding,” Chris said. “You sneak into a liquor store and get stinking drunk, puke all over the place and you don’t even get it with the belt?”
Jared grinned. “My folks never used anything but their hand. It still hurt, though,” he asserted. “And it was humiliating, being over my dad’s knee like that, getting spanked at that age. I swore that was the last time and it was too.” Jared grabbed up the bottle of tequila, filled everyone’s shot glasses and looked up, green eyes wide and innocent. “And I didn’t touch another drop of alcohol until I met y’all.”
Jensen huffed, incredulous. “Padalecki, you lying sack of shit,” he blurted out, laughing. He watched in satisfaction as the other boy broke down in giggles. “You were drinkin’ long before I ever met you, smart ass. Who’s the one that gets toasted every year at the wrap party? Huh? Not me.”
“Pfft. You just hold your liquor better, Jensen,” Steve offered. “You still get that glassy stare and that stupid little smile on your face though.”
“Exactly!” Jared pointed at Steve, nodding. He swung his gaze over to Jensen, who was sitting next to him. “Tennis racket stealing…Twizzler,” he taunted playfully.
“I’m not even gonna acknowledge that with a comment,” Jensen said calmly. He smiled slyly. “But, hey, I think I have a great idea for your next movie, Jay.” He held up his hands in front of the other boy, as if framing a shot. “Jared: portrait of a teenage alcoholic. Whad’ya think?”
Jensen found himself on the floor in a laughing heap, nose to nose with Sadie, Jared having shoved him off the couch in retaliation, using his long legs to bulldoze Jensen from his seat.
“Okay, so we’ve all had a turn,” Jensen said, getting up from the carpet and plunking back down onto the couch, still smiling. He slapped Jared’s knee. “What’s next? Spin the bottle? Telling ghost stories? Baking cookies?”
Jared snorted. “We turning this into a slumber party now?”
“I vote we wait until Padalecki passes out and then we put makeup on him and paint his nails,” Chris volunteered.
Jensen and Steve both raised their hands in agreement.
“I vote we don’t do that since this is Jared’s house and he has two big dogs that he will sic on you if you do,” Jared countered happily.
“You win,” Steve said.
Chris wasn’t impressed. “I find it hard to be intimidated by a guy whose worst childhood memory is of getting a spanking over his daddy’s knee.”
“Hey, man, it stung,” Jared said. “My dad really gave it to me. I didn’t sit down all day after that.”
Chris shook his head, sitting up in his armchair. “Dude, you cannot compare getting blistered with a belt to getting a little ole hand spanking.”
“Why not?” Jared asked, looking at the others for confirmation. “Either way, it hurts, and you feel bad, and it’s punishment, right?”
Jensen looked at Steve. Steve shrugged.
“I don’t know, Jared,” Steve said. “I mean, I see where you’re coming from, but it’s different, you know?”
“No, I don’t know,” Jared stated, frowning slightly. “I told you, I’ve never gotten it with a belt. Or anything else, other than my dad’s hand. But, what’s the big deal? A spanking’s a spanking.”
“Uh, no,” Jensen joined in, giving Jared a sympathetic look. “Trust me, man. Belt’s way worse.”
“Maybe y’all are just a buncha wusses,” Jared teased. “Maybe y’all just can’t take it like a man.”
Chris’ smile tightened, his eyes focusing on Jared. Time to teach the pup a lesson, he thought. He slowly stood up, hands casually dropping to the fancy tooled silver belt buckle at his waist.
“You wanna find out how much more it hurts?” Chris asked Jared.
Not waiting for a reply from the younger man, Chris unbuckled his belt, pulled it out of the loops of his faded, torn blue jeans and doubled it over in his hand, giving Jared a dangerous look.
“Dude, he’s not a kid anymore,” Jensen scoffed. He pointed at the strip of leather in Chris’ hand. “You’re not gonna make him cry or anything. I mean, I seriously doubt you can compare an ass whipping as a kid to getting one at our age now.”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, I mean, shit Chris, I think we could all handle a smack or two, no problem.” He grinned. “Hell, isn’t that what you and your girlfriends do for fun these days?”
The room erupted in snorts of laughter.
“He’s right,” Jared said.
Chris’s brows almost shot off his head. “Excuse me?” He glared menacingly at Jared.
“No! Not about your girlfriends,” Jared hastily explained, pressing back into the couch cushions. “I meant about being able to handle a belt lickin’.”
Chris smiled. “Prove it,” he challenged, his drawl smooth and dark.
Grinning drunkenly, Jared pushed himself off the couch, to stand up, swaying a little on his feet. He raised his arms up in invitation. “’Kay, smart ass, let’s see what you got.”
Jensen chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “This oughta be good,” he announced. He reached back into his jeans pocket and pulled out his wallet, fishing out a crumpled twenty and laying it onto the coffee table in front of him. “Twenty says he can’t take ten licks without losing it.”
Jared scowled at Jensen. “Dude! You’re betting against me?”
“Hell yeah, Jare.” Jensen smiled, nodding. “You cry when you get a paper cut.”
“I do not!”
“Yeah, you do.”
“It was a deep paper cut, man. It bled. A lot.”
“Whatever. Ten licks or twenty bucks, big boy.”
Jared sighed, rolled his eyes, and nodded. “Fine. Twenty says I can take it like a man. But,” Jared raised a finger in challenge. “Another twenty says you can’t take ten with Chris’ belt either.”
Jensen’s smile was full of mischief. “Seriously? You really wanna make that bet, Jared?”
Chris set his belt down on his chair, pulled out his wallet and dropped two twenties onto the pile accumulating on the coffee table. “I’m in,” he growled, smiling sweetly. “I say neither of you pansy asses can take a belt whupping off me.”
Fifteen minutes later, the pile of money had grown considerably. Steve had entered the challenge, with Jared and Jensen counter-challenging until all four men had bet one another that they couldn’t handle ten licks from Chris’ belt. It took another ten minutes of drunken arguing to agree on who would deliver the licks amongst them.
Which is how Jared found himself, ass in the air, bent over the arm of his own leather couch, staring at the cushions and wondering how he’d managed once again to get himself into such a mess. They had tucked the dogs into his bedroom upstairs to avoid them getting freaked out over Jared being ‘attacked’ by Chris and his belt.
Not that Jared was worried any. Doing his own stunts on the show had provided him plenty of chances for injuries and he’d always toughed them out, so what was a spanking really going to do? Seriously, he and Jensen had suffered enough bumps, bruises and cuts to give them a healthy appreciation for true pain. He’d broken his wrist on set a couple years ago and although it had hurt like hell, he’d managed to finish the shoot before asking for a ride to the hospital. Pain was relative, Jared thought.
“Ready?” Chris called from behind Jared.
“Bring it,” Jared replied. He waggled his butt comically at the three standing behind him, grinning stupidly when he got a laugh.
Jensen crossed his arms over his chest, amusement tipping up the corners of his mouth. “Little idiot,” he mumbled, tone more affectionate than the words accounted for.
There was a whoosh and then the sound of leather smacking heavily against a denim-covered backside, the sharp crack echoing impressively off the gleaming white walls of the living room.
Jensen and Steve both grimaced, flinching.
Jared let out a harsh gasp, lips peeled away from his tightly clenched teeth. His eyes practically bugged out of his head as he shot up from the couch with a loud yell.
“FUCK!”
Chris grinned wickedly, stepping back to let Jared have some room as he danced about, both hands plastered to the seat of his pants, a string of obscenities falling effortlessly from his mouth in a comical Texas drawl.
“Mutherfuckin’sonuvawhoregawddamnshiiit!”
Steve collapsed against Jensen, laughing so hard, tears fell from his eyes as Jensen too, burst into helpless gales of laughter, grabbing his side with one hand while still trying to hold up Steve.
Jared, finally able to collect himself, began to chuckle as well, the laughs interspersed with groans, as he continued to rub his stinging backside.
“Fuck, Kane!” Jared complained. “Motherfucker. That really hurt!”
“Yeah?” Chris let the sarcasm roll. “You ready to concede to the fact that getting your ass hit with a belt is more painful than getting it with just a hand?”
“Um, yes,” Jared answered solemnly. “Fuck, how long is this gonna burn?” he asked, squirming. He peered unsuccessfully over his shoulders, bending and twisting, trying to get a view of his own rear end. “No, seriously. This isn’t gonna leave like a black and blue mark, is it?”
“Why? You plannin’ on doing a nude scene next week, Jared?” Chris asked innocently, earning a sour glare from Jared.
Jensen and Steve both started snorting uncontrollably again.
“You do realize you just lost the bet, right dude?” Jensen spoke up once he’d caught his breath.
Jared looked up at that. “What? No way! I didn’t bet that it wouldn’t hurt. I figured it was gonna hurt, you know…just…not as much as it did…” his voice trailed off, as he once again felt compelled to rub at his smarting backside.
“Well now you know, huh?” Jensen said, giving Jared an encouraging pat on the shoulder, despite the scowl his roommate threw at him.
“Jared, you bet you could take ten from Chris and that was only one, dude,” Steve pointed out. “You lose.”
Jared glanced over at the money on the coffee table and then over at Jensen. He feigned a pout. “Aw, c’mon. Gimme another chance. Now, I know what to expect.” He gave Jensen his famous puppy eyes. “Please? C’mon, Jensen, pleeeease?”
Jensen shrugged and nodded. Damn Jared and that pathetic pouty face of his. “Fine.” He looked over at Steve and Chris. “How ‘bout it, you two?”
“Sure,” Chris stated, re-folding his belt in his hand to get ready. “But, that one doesn’t count, so you still got ten comin’.”
Jared blinked, mouth falling open. “What? Whad’you mean it doesn’t count? Why doesn’t it count?”
“You didn’t stay down, Jared. Gotta keep your position for it to count.” Chris motioned for Jared to bend back over the couch arm. “You can holler and cuss all you want, but you stand up, move away or try to cover your ass while you’re getting your whupping, boy, and you forfeit.”
“Sounds fair,” Steve conceded.
“Works for me,” Jensen added. He smiled, clapping his hands together in obvious glee. “Let’s go, J‑dog. Time to take your medicine.”
Jared shot Jensen a withering stare before positioning himself back over the arm of the couch. “Laugh it up, smartass. Yours is comin’. And I hope Chris makes you cry,” he teased.
Chris let the belt fly at that moment, and Jared clamped his mouth shut, teeth almost taking part of his tongue off as he felt the raw heat snake across his ass. He grunted in pain.
“Someone count ‘em off,” Chris asked. He raised the belt again, grinning evilly.
“One,” Steve and Jensen counted in unison.
Whack!
“JESUS! Fuck…”
“Two.”
Whack!
“OW!”
“Thr-” Whack!
“Four.”
“Goddammit!” Jared grunted, shifting along the couch arm in misery. “Kane, you bastard, let ‘em get the fuckin’ count out before you-”
Whack!
“Five.”
“Fuck! You cocksucker!” Jared drawled, earning a round of chuckles from Jensen and Steve.
Chris began laughing. The rest of the licks came quick and steady, Jared gasping and cursing but keeping his position with the help of a death grip on the couch cushions in front of him.
“That’s ten, man,” Steve finally announced.
Jensen was immediately at Jared’s side, as the younger man slowly stood up, an expression somewhere between pain and chagrin contorting his features.
Jared’s hands automatically found their way to his aching butt, where they very carefully cradled the over sensitive body part. No rubbing this time. Not yet, anyway. Any touch at all would just ignite the fire even more at this point. There’d be time for rubbing…and ice…lots of ice…later.
“You okay?” Jensen asked quietly.
Jared cocked his head at Jensen. “I just got my ass roasted with a belt.” He couldn’t help it, he began laughing. “Fuck no, I’m not okay.”
Jensen patted Jared’s arm. “I knew you could do it.”
Jared pretended to shove Jensen away. “You bet against me, asshole.”
Jensen smiled. “I had to make this interesting.”
“Uh huh. Let’s see how interesting you think it is now.” Jared moved aside and nodded at the couch. “Your turn, tough guy.”
“Okay,” Jensen said, appearing calm.
Inside, his stomach knotted a little. He’d seen how hard Chris was laying on the strap, and he wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t do like his roommate and jump up, wanting nothing more than to escape the swing of the belt.
Swallowing hard, Jensen gave his friends his best Dean Winchester smirk of defiance before closing his eyes, waiting for the first smack of leather.
Chris didn’t leave Jensen waiting long. He swung from the shoulder, feeling his belt connect solidly with Jensen’s ass, grinning smugly at the bitten off yelp of pain the younger man fought to hide.
As Steve and Jared sounded off the count, Chris laid down a second stripe, this time catching Jensen low across the crease. Jensen jolted forward over the arm, cursing loudly.
Chris leaned casually over Jensen’s back. “You okay there, Jenny?” he smoothly drawled.
“Fuck you, Chris,” Jensen managed between clenched teeth. “Keep going, you sadistic bast-”
WHACK! It caught Jensen right across the middle of both cheeks.
“Christ!”
“Two.”
“That one looked like it hurt,” Jared commented with a smirk. He looked at Steve. “Didn’t that look like it hurt?”
“Jared, I know where you sleep!” Jensen spat over his shoulder. Chris let fly again, and Jensen grunted loudly, hissing as the leather laid down a blazing line of fire.
“Three.”
“Jesus, fuck, Kane! You getting’ off on this, or what?” Jensen questioned acidly.
Steve sucked in a breath. “Shouldn’t a said that,” he muttered under his breath, smirking.
Chris was quick to reply to the taunt with a trio of licks, layered one over the top of another, in rapid succession, across Jensen’s upturned backside.
“MOTHERFUCKER!” Jensen howled, arching halfway up off the arm of the couch before catching himself, and with a ragged indrawn breath of air, slumping back down.
“Uh, that was…six. We’re up to six,” Jared announced, not even trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. “You gonna make it, Jensen? Sure you don’t wanna fold?”
Jared knew exactly how Jensen was feeling at the moment and while he could empathize with his best friend, Jared wasn’t above getting some satisfaction out of knowing he wouldn’t be the only one sleeping on his belly this evening because fuck if there weren’t welts raised all over his ass right now.
“Jay, I’m gonna kill you,” Jensen growled teasingly, shaking his head at his own stupidity. He winced as the next stripe of pain flared across his butt. “No. Strike that. I’m gonna kill Chris first, and then I’m gonna kill you.”
“How many?” Chris questioned. He rotated his stiff shoulder, loosening it up a bit.
“That was seven,” Steve answered.
Chris nodded. He patted Jensen’s back. “You got three more, Ackles. Want ‘em fast or slow?”
Jensen didn’t even hesitate. He grinned fiercely. “Just get ‘em over with, you backwoods, talentless hack!”
Chris snickered in amusement and let Jensen have it - three in a row - crisscrossing the young actor’s butt in a haphazard fashion, the popping sound of the belt loud in the room.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this for what? Three hundred and change?” Jensen groaned as he stood back up, eyeing Chris. “We must be really drunk and really bored, because, dude, that fucking pile of money is so not worth it.” He laughed, reaching back to offer his rear end a gingerly rub. “Damn, Chris. What the hell is that belt made out of? Steel?”
Chris flexed the belt in his hands, snapping it. “Just good old American-made leather, son.” He smiled. “What’sa matter, Jenny? Your pretty little ass too tender?”
“My pretty little ass is gonna kick your ugly little ass,” Jensen kidded, smiling back. “Here,” he motioned for the belt. “Gimme that. Your arms’s gotta be tired and I wanna make sure Steve gets the full effect Jared and I got.”
Steve choked. “Oh hell no, man. You’re just waiting to take your pain out on someone.”
Jensen’s grin widened. “Yeah? Well, I guess you’re the one I’m taking it out on, Steve-O. So, assume the position.” He pointed smugly to the couch arm.
Steve sighed. He grabbed up the Patron and took a deep swig, then rolled his eyes and lowered himself over the arm of the couch, but not without a dirty glower at Chris first. “You and your dumb ass ideas.”
Chris chuckled, holding up his hands. “Hey, I didn’t pressure you to join in, here, Carlson. You could’a opted out at any time.”
Steve eyed the money on the table. He wasn’t hurting, but hell, three hundred dollars was nothing to sneeze at either.
“Nope. You’re right.” Steve waved a hand over his shoulder at Jensen. “Okay, big daddy, let’s go. Let’s get this over with.”
Enjoying being on the other end of the belt now, Jensen took a moment to eye Steve’s ass, pretending to calculate the angle and trajectory until Steve growled at him to hurry the fuck up.
Jensen swung hard, and Steve jerked over the arm, but remained silent.
“Aw, you didn’t hit him hard enough,” Chris admonished. “C’mon, Jenny, swing from the shoulder. Put some power into it.”
Jensen glared at Chris. “Just wait,” he threatened. “I’m saving it all up for you, Christian.”
“That was one, by the way,” Jared interjected.
Jensen took position again, and swung, this time catching Steve across his upper thighs. Steve yelled this time.
“Shit!” he gasped, turning slightly, an amazed look on his face. “Felt that one. Damn. Aim’s a little off there, J.”
“How’s this one?” Jensen asked. He laid the belt down neatly bisecting Steve’s butt, beaming when Steve once again swore and jumped. “That one work for you, Steve?”
“Fuck you, Jensen,” Steve grunted.
“That’s two,” Jared stated with a smirk.
Jensen looked over at Chris and Jared, his eyes asking the question of whether or not he should give Steve the triple play, like Chris had done to Jared and him. Both men nodded enthusiastically. Jensen smiled.
“Ready, Steve?” Jensen asked sweetly.
Steve rolled his eyes. “Jesus, dude, just go. You don’t have to ask my permission every t-”
Whack! Whack! Whack!
Everyone watched in wonder as Steve’s left leg suddenly lifted up, the toes of his left foot curling frantically inside their sock. The musician squirmed over the arm of the couch and then let out a torrent of cussing, stringing words together in an imaginative way that had the other men in the room bent over in hysterics.
Jared snorted, almost spitting on himself while Chris shook with silent laughter.
Jensen, laughing hard, swiped at his eyes, choking slightly. “Steve? You need a minute, man?”
“I’m good,” was the gasped reply.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Jensen glanced over at Jared. “Count?”
“Five, total,” Jared answered, still trying to stifle his chuckles.
“Number six,” Jensen gleefully announced and then planted another scorching lick across his friend’s wriggling butt. “And seven right behind it,” he added, smacking down the belt again.
“Okay, Chris isn’t allowed to decide what we do anymore,” Steve complained, laughing over his shoulder. “Shit! My ass feels like it’s going numb!”
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Jensen quipped. He spanked Steve with the belt three more times, the cracks solid, then smacked his friend on the butt once with his hand, eliciting a growl and a curse. “You’re done, dude.”
Steve rolled off the arm of the couch with a grunt. “And we thought this would be fun, why?” He scowled and palmed his throbbing butt. “Where’s the tequila, dammit?”
Jensen, Jared and Chris laughed. Steve drank straight from the bottle, grimacing.
Jensen, slapped the belt into the palm of his left hand, a nasty smirk on his face. “So…Chris…I believe you’re up.” His eyes darkened. “And I’m not gonna lie to you, man, I’m gonna enjoy this.”
Chris smiled right back, eyes hooded. He held up his hands. “Ya know what? I forfeit.”
He walked over to the chair he’d been sitting in all night, a devilish grin on his face.
“What?” Jensen stood, eyeing his friend in mild shock. “You what?”
“I forfeit, Jenny,” Chris said again, satisfaction written clearly across his smug features. “You suckers can keep the money. Hell, it was worth it just to see you get your asses tanned.” He began laughing.
The room was deathly silent for a second before it erupted in pandemonium.
“THE FUCK-”
“Chris, you fucking douchebag!”
“You’re a dead man, Kane…”
Chris continued to smile brilliantly until his three companions rushed him and dragged him from the chair, pinning him to the floor.
“Hey!” He yelped as a pair of large hands rotated him so that he was face down, nose pressed into the pile of the carpeting. Chris struggled but his arms were pinned down and someone was actually sitting on his legs. “Get the fuck off me, you rejects!”
“Not ‘til you get your spanking, young man,” Jensen chirped from somewhere off Chris’ left shoulder.
“I keep telling you that smart ass bit is gonna get you in trouble, Chris. Every time,” Steve admonished, shaking his head.
“Oh, hell no!” Chris roared when he felt his jeans being yanked down. “No way! I didn’t make you take your pants down!”
“Quitters can’t be choosers,” Jared lectured, grinning and patting Chris on his boxers. “Take it like a man, Kane.”
“Fuck,” Chris groaned under his breath as he heard his belt slicing through the air.
THE END
Vancouver, BC
Jared’s eyes lit up with a feverish enthusiasm as his fingers flew over the controls on the mini guitar in his hands, cheeks dimpling. He shot a triumphant grin over to Steve Carlson, who sat cross-legged on the floor directly across from him.
“Ha! Beat that!” Jared happily crowed.
Steve offered Jared an abashed look. He knew he shouldn’t have challenged the kid to this game. Knew it the moment both Chris and Jensen rolled their eyes at him, biting back snorts of laughter. But hell, it was basically playing a guitar, for chrissakes. He did that for a living! Must be Padalecki’s ginormous hands and ridiculously long fingers, Steve mused. Anyone would have an unfair advantage in this game with those.
“You can’t beat me at this, dude. I am the guitar hero,” Jared taunted further upon seeing Steve’s look of frustration.
Jared took a quick congratulatory swig from his bottle of beer; wide grin still plastered on his face, and then snugged the bottle back between his thighs for safekeeping, before concentrating on the game once more.
Chris Kane leaned back in his leather armchair, observing the youngest of their group this evening with a wry smile on his face. He had to admit that Jared was doing a rather impressive job of kicking Carlson’s butt at Guitar Hero, which was hilarious to Chris, since Steve was a talented musician by trade and Jared couldn’t figure out a G major chord on a real guitar to save his life.
Granted, Jared could play this particular game in his sleep, but Chris was amazed nonetheless. Especially when he factored in that Jared was also balancing a dish of ice cream on his left knee, at the same time as using his thighs as a vice grip to hold his beer bottle, all while using both hands to thumb the buttons on his game controller.
Both Harley and Sadie were stationed beside the couch, silent attending statues, on either side of Jared’s long splayed legs, their ears perked forward, eyes intently focused on their owner. Apparently, the dogs were also impressed with Jared’s juggling act, Chris mused, or they knew that sooner or later something was going to spill onto the floor and odds were good that it would be something edible.
Watching the way Jared twisted and lurched about on the couch, his entire body practically gyrating as he ‘played’ his guitar, Chris had to agree with the latter assumption. How the hell the dish of ice cream hadn’t fallen off Jared’s leg already, he couldn’t fathom.
Not that it really mattered, because he wouldn’t be the one cleaning up the mess if it did happen. Nope. That would fall to Jensen, most likely. Mr. Neat Freak.
Smirking at the thought, Chris brought his bottle of beer up to his mouth, took a long, slow swallow, and then pulled his booted feet up from the floor and plopped them lazily onto the cushioned ottoman in front of his chair, figuring to get more comfortable. He was looking forward to an evening with no specific plans other than to get drunk and hang out with friends.
He had been in town all week promoting his new show, Leverage, on the local TV and radio stations in Vancouver. Chris had called Jensen earlier to see if the younger actor would have some time to get together and maybe do dinner with Chris before he caught his return flight to LA. As luck would have it, Jensen, Jared and Steve were appearing at a Supernatural convention in town that weekend and Jensen had invited Chris to come along.
After some pleading over the phone by Jensen and finally, a bribe of steak and beer from Steve, Chris had agreed to the idea. He’d called the airlines and managed to get his flight pushed back to Monday, giving him plenty of time to make it over to the convention.
Hell, he hadn’t seen any of the guys in months and was really looking forward to it. And it certainly wouldn’t hurt to promote his show a little among the legions of Supernatural fans that would be there. That kind of viewer loyalty could guarantee a show more than a single season.
It had been a busy day full of picture taking, autograph sessions, fan meet and greets, and discussion panels. Exhausted, the four young men decided to spend the evening relaxing at Jared’s and Jensen’s home rather than hitting the crowded downtown bars.
“Man, did you see that one blonde chick in the pink mini?” Steve asked with an impish grin on his face. He let out a low appreciative whistle. “The one first in line for autographs?”
“Couldn’t help but check her out,” Jared said. “Nice legs.”
Jensen nodded, smile widening. “Yeah and an impressive rack to go with ‘em,” he added, amused at how much he sounded like Dean at that moment. Must be the beer, he thought absently.
Jensen caught Steve’s knowing grin and chuckled. “Man, when she bent down at our table in that little halter thingy to say hi, I almost forgot my own name.”
“Helluva perk, huh?” Steve chuckled.
“Helluva view.” Jensen replied, and both men laughed.
“Dude! You’ve got a girlfriend,” Chris teased Jensen.
Jared snorted. “Just ‘cause he’s got a girlfriend doesn’t mean he’s blind, Kane. Besides, she’s a thousand miles away, and no lie, that girl in line was hot.”
“Thank you, Jare,” Jensen said, patting Jared affectionately on the arm. “Always got my back, don’t you?” He rose from the couch, holding up his empty beer bottle. “Anyone else need a refill?”
Three negative replies came from Jared, Steve and Chris.
“’Kay, I’ll be back in a sec,” Jensen said. He gave his friends a playful scowl. “Don’t be talkin’ about me behind my back while I’m gone either.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Ackles,” Chris ribbed his friend. “Not everybody’s into your pretty boy looks, you know.”
Smiling to himself, Jensen turned and headed for the kitchen, firing a finger back at Chris over his shoulder.
Chris let out a tired but happy sigh as he sank back into the oversized chair he occupied. One good thing about having freakishly tall friends was that their furniture was always big and comfy. He crossed his legs, one over the other, and went back to quietly watching Jared and Steve currently battling it out over Enter the Sandman.
While Jared was waiting for his turn, he dove back into his ice cream, interspersing the spoonfuls with sips from his beer. Chris watched the young Texan a few moments longer, the crease between his brows slowly deepening.
“So, okay, I gotta ask,” Chris finally spoke up, his tone full of bemused curiosity. “What’s with the beer and ice cream, there, Ponyboy?”
“I’ve been meaning to ask that myself,” Steve muttered, laying his mini guitar across his lap and shaking out his tired hands. He glanced at Jared expectantly.
A put upon sigh came from behind the trio as Jensen returned from the kitchen, a fresh beer in his hand. Steve glanced over at Jensen, brow raised, but got no response from the man.
Instead, Jensen silently nudged Jared with his knee to move over and make room on the couch for him, which Jared did, sliding his lanky form over enough for Jensen to grab a seat next to him.
Jensen eyed his roommate unhappily, not for the first time that evening. “Dude, you know that’s gonna make you sick, right?”
“I don’t care,” Jared replied.
He licked a glob of the chocolate chip ice cream from the end of his spoon before grabbing up his bottle of beer and taking a long swig.
“That’s just gross,” Jensen stated. He made a gagging noise, face contorted in revulsion, and Chris snorted.
Steve eyed the younger boy, puzzled now. “Okay, I agree that’s not exactly the most appetizing combination I can think of, but how’s it going to make him sick?”
“Lactose intolerant,” Jensen clarified, shooting Jared another perturbed scowl. “Which means eating that,” he said, pointing at the bowl of semi-melted ice cream in Jared’s hands, “is gonna keep him up all night with a belly ache.”
Jensen rolled his eyes in mock disgust and then looked over at the other two men. “Don’t even get me started on the whole gas issue,” he muttered.
Jared offered up a winsome grin.
“You know you love me.”
“No, I don’t.” Jensen scoffed.
“Sure you do,” Jared insisted.
“Not when you’re gassy,” Jensen retorted.
Jared laughed. “Aw, it’s not that bad, Jen, c’mon.”
Jensen’s brows shot up. “Really?”
“What?” Jared asked.
Jensen stared at his roommate, incredulous. “Jared, even the dogs are afraid of your farts.”
Steve and Chris both spit beer, as Jared blushed deeply but joined in the laughter. Harley poked his head up from the floor, ears raised in interest at the commotion.
“You know that if those two,” Jensen continued, pointing to Harley and Sadie, “- who have no problem sniffing each other’s asses or nosing through the rotting garbage - can’t even stand to be around you when you’re cuttin’ one, then that’s some seriously lethal shit.”
Jensen grinned evilly at his co-star. “Face it, Jare, you’re toxic when you eat dairy.”
“Jerk,” Jared said, half-heartedly.
“Bitch,” Jensen promptly answered back.
Both boys smiled at the little inside joke.
“Why do you even eat that crap if it makes you sick?” Chris questioned, indicating the bowl of ice cream sitting on Jared’s lap.
“I don’t know.” Jared shrugged, spooning another bite into his mouth. “I like it for one, and I guess maybe ‘cause I wasn’t allowed to have any when I was growin’ up.”
“Probably to save on fumigation bills,” Jensen muttered jokingly.
Jared elbowed his friend in the ribs. He smiled brightly. “Yeah, well, now I’m my own boss, so I can eat whatever the hell I want.”
As if to prove his point, Jared chugged some of his beer, letting out a satisfied burp and then followed it up with a large dripping spoonful of ice cream.
“Yeah, that’s great, Jared,” Jensen commented. “You finally decide to become a rebel and I’m the one that pays for it.”
“A total delinquent,” Steve chuckled.
“A delinquent? Him?” Chris eyed Jared dubiously, and then snorted. “Gimme a break!” He shook his head, lips curving into a smirk. “Hell, I bet you were the good little southern boy growing up, weren’t you, Jared?”
Jared shrugged, ignoring the taunt.
“Always following the rules and minding your manners, never ditched school or got arrested,” Chris continued, teasingly.
Jensen and Steve both turned to look at Chris, amusement dancing in their eyes.
Jensen grinned. “Well, we know you can’t say the same, Christian.”
“Oh? And why’s that?” Chris asked, eyes narrowing.
“’Cause I can think of at least one particular run in with the cops on Santa Monica Boulevard a few years back that got a little nasty. Remember?”
Steve chimed in. “Forget that, man, what about the gig in Dallas, when Chris-”
Chris quickly interrupted. “Yeah. Thanks. Got it.” He cleared his throat, shooting both Steve and Jensen a dirty look. “Like you two are so innocent,” he challenged.
“I never said I was,” Steve chuckled, holding up his hands.
“Me neither,” Jensen joined in. “Shit, I got into plenty of trouble back in Richardson, man. Just ask my dad.”
“Well, I did too,” Jared huffed, feeling somewhat left out now. “Despite what y’all think, I wasn’t a total angel growing up.”
“Oh, yeah?” Chris sounded skeptical. “So, what kind of trouble did you get into, Padalecki? Get a B minus on your report card in junior high?”
Jensen bit his lip hard, trying not to grin while Steve muffled his snicker with an obviously fake cough.
Not amused, Jared gave them the finger in reply. He was tempted to fling a spoonful of ice cream at them, but didn’t want to waste it. He took another bite of the dessert instead, smacking his lips noisily into Jensen’s ear, much to Jensen’s amused disgust.
“Nice comeback, sasquatch,” Jensen murmured as he leaned away from his roommate with an annoyed grimace. He gave Jared’s knee a playful bump with his leg. “C’mon, Jare, pony up. What big, bad things have you done?”
“You first,” Jared countered evenly. His mischievous gaze traveled around the room. “So, okay, what’s the most trouble y’all got into when you were younger?”
Chris snorted. “Easy. Grand theft auto.”
There was a hint of pride in the actor’s voice that didn’t go unnoticed by the other occupants of the living room. They fell silent, sharing speculative looks.
“Well, that beats my story,” Jensen admitted quietly.
“Care to elaborate, Chris?” Steve asked, eyeing the other man.
Chris nodded, a smile curving his lips. “I was fourteen and I boosted my momma’s station wagon to go joyriding with some friends.”
“Wow, a station wagon…” Steve noted dryly. “Your shitty taste in wheels started at an early age, didn’t it?”
“Fuck you, Carlson! My ’56 pickup is a classic.”
“Yeah, a classic piece of shit,” Jensen countered, chuckling.
“Well, my old girl may not be as tricked out as your gay-mobile, Jenny, but I like it,” Chris retorted.
Jared and Steve hooted with laughter, watching Jensen’s cheeks flame.
“Real funny, smart ass.” Jensen shot his old friend a withering look. He grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table in front of him and threw it at Chris.
The dogs immediately leapt up from the floor and bounded over to Chris to get to the popcorn that had fallen around him. Chris yelped in surprise as he was suddenly assaulted by canine noses, paws and tongues.
Jensen smirked.
“I still can’t believe you stole your own momma’s car,” Jared said, purposely ignoring his dogs’ antics, despite Chris’ pleas to call them off.
Jensen was his roommate and his best friend. He couldn’t, in good conscience, allow Chris to get away with the slur to Jensen’s manhood. Never mind that he’d laughed along with Steve at the crack. Besides, it was pretty funny watching Chris squirm as Harley shamelessly nosed the man’s crotch in search of more popcorn.
Once the animals were convinced there was no more food to be had, they left Chris in relative peace and returned to their places near the couch, lying down, noses almost resting on Jared’s and Jensen’s feet.
“Dude, that’s so wrong what you did. That was your mom.” Jared eyed Chris, disbelief mixed with a bit of admiration coming through in his tone. “Your mother, Chris. The woman who gave birth to you.”
Chris’ grin split his face, eyes dancing in amusement, dog assault forgotten. “Oh, that ain’t the worst of it,” he said.
“You’re kidding. There’s more?” Jared leaned forward in fascination, setting his half-finished bowl of ice cream on the carpeted floor by his feet, where Sadie promptly claimed it as hers.
Jensen watched the dog eagerly slurping up the melted dessert and shook his head, eyes narrowed in speculation. Casually, he reached down, grabbed the bowl from under the dog’s nose and placed it up on the coffee table, giving his roommate a mild glare of disapproval. He was so not cleaning up after that mutt if she got sick. Nope. Not happening. Again.
Jared ignored him, although he couldn’t help the small smile that ghosted across his lips. As much as Jensen complained, to anyone who would listen, about the dogs being messy, dirty and a general pain in the ass, Jared knew that Jensen cared for them almost as much as he did.
Chris slid his feet off the ottoman and back onto the floor, leaning forward, matching Jared’s attentive attitude. He was only too happy to elaborate on his story.
“I was ‘bout fourteen, so, you know, I didn’t have a driver’s license or anything yet, but I’d seen my daddy driving all the time and it didn’t look that hard. And I wanted to impress this one girl-”
“Just one?” Jensen asked in mock surprise. “Not the usual harem?”
“Shut up,” Chris said, laughing. He continued. “So, anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, so, my folks were over at a neighbor’s house - some party or something - I don’t remember, but I was out in the yard hanging with some friends, and we got bored.”
“Remind me not to let you ever get bored,” Jared commented.
Chris chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. “You already know what happens when I get bored.”
“Car surfing!” The other three sang out in unison.
Chris leveled a sour look at Jensen. “Yeah, and thanks by the way, for filming it, asshole. That thing hit You Tube and I couldn’t get a freaking acting gig for months. No one wanted to risk insuring me on set after that.”
“Hey, I was merely preserving the moment for posterity’s sake,” Jensen replied.
“For posterity, huh?”
“Yeah, you know, in case you’d taken a header off the hood and we needed proof that you’d actually died of your own stupidity.”
“Well, thanks, Jenny,” Chris stated. “I’ll be sure to do the same for you next time. In fact, I wish I’d thought of it that time.”
“Quit callin’ me Jenny,” Jensen said, “I don’t call you Christy.”
Chris laughed. “That’s ‘cause I’m not a big chick…Jenny.”
“Fucker,” Jensen stated, smiling nonetheless as he took a drink of his beer.
“Wait,” Jared interrupted excitedly, giving his roommate a suspicious look. “Jensen hood surfed that night too?”
Jensen’s cheeks flushed crimson; he nervously picked at the label on his beer bottle, but said nothing.
Chris smiled widely. “He never told you?”
“Nuh uh,” Jared replied, grinning back. He turned on the couch and poked Jensen in the shoulder. “I’m gonna tell your mom on you,” he stated, eyes shining with delight.
Jensen’s eyes shot wide. “Dude, I will so kick your ass, I swear…” Jensen warned, a note of alarm in his voice.
“Yup, gonna tell,” Jared teased happily, batting at Jensen’s hand which was trying to smack him in the head. “Momma and Papa Ackles have a right to know, Jensen. They need to know their little boy is a great big dumbass that hangs out with other dangerous dumb asses.”
“You better be including yourself in that grouping, then,” Jensen stated tartly. “Because I can recall some pretty stupid stunts you’ve pulled on location that might’ve gotten you into some hot water with Eric if he’d found out, not to mention your parents would’ve had dual heart attacks.”
Jared quieted instantly, although the twinkle never completely left his eyes.
“Uh, you two losers mind if I finish my story?” Chris asked, his gaze flitting between the two Texas boys.
“Fuck you,” Jensen shot back.
“Yeah, what he said,” Jared added.
Jensen turned to Jared, his face full of mock offense. “Dude, get your own retort,” he gently chided.
“I can use the same one if I want to,” Jared declared. “You don’t have a-”
“Jesus Christ, they really are like a little old married couple,” Steve announced, getting up from his seat to grab another beer. “Do we need to get you two into couple’s therapy?”
Two long legs kicked out, connecting simultaneously with Steve’s backside as he passed by the couch. Steve stumbled and swore. Jared and Jensen high-fived each other, grinning like crazy.
Chris mumbled something under his breath about “Texas motherfuckers” as he grabbed the remote off the couch arm and snapped the TV off and then flicked the stereo on as he passed by it on the way to the kitchen.
The Hollies “Long Cool Woman” was playing and Jensen, Chris and Jared paused to listen for a moment, all three suddenly bursting in on the refrain with exaggerated emphasis.
“She was a looonnnggg cool wooomannnn in a black dressssss!”
A round of rowdy laughter followed before Chris returned to his tale. “So back to the story - I grabbed the car keys from my mom’s purse when she wasn’t looking and a bunch of us piled into the station wagon and took off.”
“To where?” Jared asked, settling back onto the couch, beer bottle resting on his right thigh.
Chris shrugged.
“I think we decided to hit the Dairy Queen or something. We figured we’d get us some sundaes and make it back before anyone at the party even knew we were gone.”
He looked down, a grin of embarrassment creeping onto his face.
“Didn’t quite work out that way though, ‘cause we never made it any farther than a few blocks away before I lost control of the car, trying to make a left turn going about oh, thirty, thirty-five miles an hour.”
“Holy shit, dude,” Jared gasped.
“Drove right through the Wanamaker’s picket fence and into their front yard before my foot found the brake.” Chris snorted with laughter at the memory. “Man, the tires tore the lawn all to hell and then I smashed into a big old poplar tree next to their front sidewalk.”
“Did anyone get hurt?” Jensen questioned.
“Nope,” Chris replied. “My momma’s station wagon had a busted grille and bent front axle, but all us kids were fine. Not even a scratch on us.” He finished the last of his beer and set the bottle down on the floor, pointing at the dogs and giving them a stern eye.
“No,” he commanded, when Harley made to rise.
Jared reached down to pat Harley’s huge head and pushed him back down to the floor. The dog complied, but not before letting out a disappointed grunt.
Steve came back into the room just then, a sly grin on his face, his hands loaded down with a bottle of Patron, a bowl of lemon wedges, a salt shaker and four shot glasses. “Time to move on to the hard stuff,” he announced.
Jensen and Jared groaned, but readily accepted a glass and a wedge from their friend. Chris leaned over and took his own and then Steve poured each person a liberal shot. He passed around the saltshaker and then raised his own shot glass, winking at his friends.
“Here’s to Chris and his bad ass driving skills,” he said.
“Or lack thereof,” Jared added.
Laughing, all four men licked the salt off their hands, drank, then bit into the lemon wedges before slamming their empty glasses down onto the coffee table, startling the dogs.
“So, y’all survived, but the front yard and the car were trashed. Did the neighbors call the cops?” Jensen asked.
Chris shook his head.
“I’m surprised you didn’t end up in jail, you dumbass,” Steve commented, pouring another round into everyone’s shot glass.
“Hell, I’da preferred a little jail time over what I got,” Chris said, downing his second shot of tequila with a grimace.
“Why? What did you get?” Jensen asked.
Chris’s smile was rueful. “My daddy’s belt across my bare ass,” he replied. “Man, I had welts on top of welts after he got done with me.”
Jared whistled. “Ouch,” he whispered.
Chris let out a pained grunt in agreement. “Don’t think I sat down again until that Christmas. I wasn’t allowed to get my license until I was almost eighteen either. Totally sucked.”
“Damn,” Jensen said, shaking his head in sympathy. “I never got the belt on the bare, but I did get it pretty bad once,” he said.
“Yeah?” Jared said, curious. “For what?”
Jensen squirmed, rolling his eyes. “Ah, it was stupid,” he mumbled, suddenly embarrassed.
“Like driving a car into a tree wasn’t?” Steve questioned.
Chris leveled a glare at Steve. “Shut up, asshole, I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“No, you were just trying to impress a girl, right?”
Jared threw his head back in a laugh.
“Whatever. It’s Jensen’s turn,” Chris replied. He motioned to Jensen with his empty shot glass. “So, tell us, pretty boy, what’d ya do to earn yourself a belt whupping?”
Jensen ran a hand through his short hair, letting out a belabored sigh. “Me and some friends broke into a store and stole some stuff.”
“Oh yeah! You told that story to that Norwegian magazine, didn’t you?” Jared spoke up, pointing at Jensen. “Remember? When we were so hung over?”
“You guys gave an interview while you were drunk?” Steve blinked in surprise.
“We weren’t drunk,” Jensen corrected. “We were hung over from being drunk the night before.”
Steve’s critical expression didn’t change.
“Dude, it was Norway! C’mon!” Jensen squirmed. “And hung over is not drunk,” he reiterated quietly.
“Whatever you say, Ackles,” Chris commented, chuckling. “So, what’s being drunk in Norway got to do with you getting your ass whipped? Or was that what was going on in some club the night before you gave the interview?”
Jared cracked up. “Dude, leather bar,” he ribbed.
Jensen looked at Jared. “You were there too, you moron.”
Jared’s smile faltered. “Oh, yeah. Never mind,” he quickly said. “Back to your stealing. How old were you?”
Jensen thought for a minute, indicating to Steve to refill everyone’s shot glasses. “Uh, I was prob’ly sixteen? Fifteen?”
Chris nodded. “Sounds ‘bout the right age for that kind of thing.”
Jensen continued, picking up his shot glass full of tequila. He stared at the pale amber liquid a moment. “We used to sneak into the back alleys behind stores n’ break in using a tire iron wrapped up in a jacket.”
“Were you hard up or what?” Jared questioned his friend, clearly puzzled.
Jensen rolled his eyes. “No. I don’t know. We were just being stupid. It’s not like I couldn’t afford to buy the stuff if I really wanted it.” He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the memory. “It was the thrill of doing something you knew you shouldn’t and getting away with it, I guess. We thought it was cool. Hell, half the time, we didn’t even keep the stuff we took. Just gave it away to friends or tossed it in a dumpster.”
“But, then, you got caught,” Steve said.
Jensen nodded. “Yup.” He let out a short huff. “I brought home a couple tennis rackets that last time. I was gonna give ‘em to a girl I was dating at the time.”
“You ever notice how we keep doing really stupid shit just to impress girls?” Chris snorted, shaking his head.
Steve nodded. He raised his shot glass. “To being stupid for chicks!”
All four men drank down the tequila and roared their approval.
“Go on with your story, man,” Chris encouraged Jensen.
“Not much left to tell,” Jensen replied. “I hid the rackets under my bed and my mom found them.”
Jared’s brows rose. “Your mom made your bed for you, didn’t she? You were sixteen years old and your -”
“Shut up,” Jensen cut Jared off, and Jared laughed. “I remember coming home from a friend’s and both my mom and dad were waiting for me in the living room,” Jensen said. “My mom had the tennis rackets sitting out on the coffee table, and as soon as I saw ‘em there, I knew I was busted.”
“How’d they know you didn’t borrow them from someone?” Jared asked.
Jensen made a face. “Yeah. I kinda forgot to pull the price tags off, and it was big news around town about the break in at the store, so it wasn’t too hard to put two and two together.”
Chris grinned. “Who’s the dumbass now?”
“Okay, you’re still king of the idiots for crashing your mom’s car, so chill,” Steve countered, giving his friend a knowing look.
Jared gave Jensen a sympathetic smile. “So, you’re daddy used his belt on you for robbing the store and stealing the rackets?”
“No, he didn’t use his belt,” Jensen replied. “He made me take my belt off and he used that.”
Jared choked slightly. “No.”
Jensen nodded. “Oh, yeah. After he and my mom finished lecturing me about the evils of theft and how disappointed they were in me, they grounded me for infinity. And then Dad marched me upstairs to my room, made me bend over my bed, and laid into me with my own freaking belt.”
“Bet’cha never wore that belt again,” Chris said with an evil smirk.
“No shit, dude,” Jensen affirmed. “Sixteen years old and I cried like a baby,” he added softly. “That fucking belt hurt! Especially, when I wouldn’t rat out the other guys that had been with me. I thought my dad was gonna flay my butt right off me.”
“And you prob’ly felt bad about hurting your folks too,” Jared added.
“Yeah, I felt like shit,” Jensen replied. “My dad worked out a deal with the store owner, so I didn’t get arrested. But, I had to pay for the damages to the store window and stolen stuff.”
“And so ended your career as a petty thief,” Steve said, reaching for the bottle of tequila.
“I don’t think I ever stole anything again in my life,” Jensen said.
“’Cept for some of my scenes,” Jared teased.
“Yeah, well, I can’t help it if I emote better than you,” Jensen cracked.
Jared arched a brow at his friend. “Oh, please, who’s the one they call the emo brother? Hmm? Who’s the one all the fans say has ‘puppy dog eyes’, Jen?”
Jensen nodded. “You’re right. You’re the girl.”
Jared gave him a light kick in the shin in reply, smirking. “That’s not what I meant.”
Still grinning, Jensen reached out to tousle Jared’s long hair as proof of his statement. Jared batted Jensen’s hand away, laughing.
“Shut up, man, they make me wear my hair like this.” Jared sat up and pointed at Steve and Chris. “They’ve got long hair too!”
“Gives the ladies something to grab onto,” Steve said, winking, and the other three men burst into laughter.
“Padalecki, you’re up,” Chris announced.
“What about Steve?” Jared nodded at the musician in question.
Steve gulped down his shot of tequila, growling as the liquid burned down his throat and then set the empty glass onto the coffee table.
“My parents weren’t really into the whole physical discipline thing,” he said.
Jensen frowned. “So, what then? You never got spanked growing up?”
“Not by my parents, except for once,” Steve replied. “But, my granny used to babysit me and my cousins a lot and she had no problem beating our asses when we needed it.”
Steve leaned back, settling his hands behind him on the floor to support his upper body as he stretched his legs out in front of him.
“She couldn’t have been more than a hundred pounds, but that woman could pack a wallop when she was mad.” He laughed. “I remember once when I was like twelve, me and my cousin, Jimmy, snuck some of her cigarettes and went out behind the garage to smoke them. The neighbor next door saw us hacking and gasping and called my granny to let her know what we were doing.”
Chris chuckled. “Carlson got his ass kicked by his little ninety-pound grandma – I love it.”
“Dude, me and my cousin were sitting there in the dirt behind the garage, cigarettes hanging from our lips, and she comes tearing around the corner, cussing a blue streak at us.” Steve started laughing, eyes crinkling at his own misfortune.
“Jimmy spits out his smoke and knocks me over on his way over the chain link fence into the neighbor’s yard as I’m still just sitting like a dumb fuck, watching my grandma coming at me.”
“You sure that was tobacco you were smoking?” Jensen teased.
Steve smiled. “Oh, man, if it’d been weed, I wouldn’t be alive now to tell the tale. She’da taken my head along with my ass.”
“So, you missed the memo to run and ended up facing the wrath of gran,” Jared snorted.
Steve nodded. “Yeah. She grabbed me by the hair on the top of my head-”
Jensen pointed. “See? Long hair, man…”
“…and yanked me up from the ground, smacked the cigarette out of my mouth, and then bent me over her hip and spanked me right there in the yard,” Steve continued, trying not to crack up. “I was so pissed at my cousin for ditching me and leaving me to take the heat. Little shit.”
“I’m assuming he got his at some point, though, right?” Jared asked.
Chris smiled. “I’m sure if Granny Carlson didn’t get him, Steve did.”
“Damn straight,” Steve asserted. “While I was doing time in the corner after getting my ass beat, the neighbor guy brought Jimmy home and he got it with my grandma’s hairbrush for running.”
“Serves him right,” Jared said.
Steve’s grin widened. “Yeah, well that wasn’t the end of it though. Remember when I said my parents only spanked me once in my life?”
Jensen and Chris both began laughing.
“No way, man,” Jensen said between snickers. “You got it twice? Seriously?”
Steve nodded. “I’ll tell you what, too. They may not have spanked me growing up, but my folks must have read about it or something, because my dad sure knew what the hell he was doing.”
Jared’s eyes grew wide. “What do you mean?”
Steve explained, shaking his head at the memory. “My dad sits down in a chair in the kitchen and pulls me up to him and does the whole ‘talk’ with the ‘why are you getting this spanking?’ bit and all.”
Steve grabbed the bottle of tequila and poured a shot for himself. “And then he grabs up my Granny’s hairbrush, hauls me over his lap, tells me this if for my own good-”
“Always loved that line,” Chris commented dryly.
“And then he lays into me for like five minutes straight with that goddamn brush. Or, at least it felt like it was that long after already having gotten it from my Granny. Christ, you’d think his arm would get tired or something, but nope. Just keeps whaling on me until I’m yelling at the top of my lungs how sorry I am and how I won’t do it again.” He snorted. “My butt was glowing red for the rest of the night, like Rudolph’s fucking nose.”
“And yet, you still smoke,” Jensen stated, pointing at the pack of cigarettes peaking out of the top of the other man’s shirt pocket. “Guess you didn’t learn your lesson.”
“What can I say? I’m a rebel,” Steve declared.
“Or you’re just hoping to get your ass beat some more, perv,” Chris said.
“Fuck you,” Steve retorted.
Chris grinned. He turned to Jared, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. “All right boys and girls. The one we’ve all been waiting for. Jared Padalecki and his tale of getting his tail busted.”
Jared blushed, embarrassed, offering up a small grin at the intro.
“It’s not really that big a story,” he said, looking down at his hands in his lap. He methodically began to crack his knuckles, one at a time, a sign of his nervousness.
Jensen, noticing the motion and realizing it for what it was, reached over and rested his hand on his roommate’s knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Hey, Jay, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said softly.
“No, I want to,” Jared explained. He rubbed his hands on the thighs of his jeans. “My story just doesn’t sound as cool as y’alls does. I didn’t steal a car or try smoking or anything like that.”
“See? I told ya,” Chris snorted, flopping back further into his chair, a look a scorn on his face. He pushed his hair behind his ears, with a disgruntled sigh. “It’s gonna be a bad report card or he pushed his sister in the mud or something.”
Steve shook his head, chuckling softly. “Give the kid a chance, Kane, Jesus. You’re such an asshole when you’re drunk.”
“M’not drunk,” Chris stated. He reached for the tequila, grinning. “Yet.” He motioned with the bottle at Jared. “Sorry. Go ahead, wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”
Jensen opened his mouth and Chris pointed at him in warning.
“No comments from the peanut gallery.”
Jensen snapped his mouth shut, but not without a smug look towards Steve, who nodded in silent agreement, that yes, Chris could be an asshole sometimes.
A soft smile ghosting over his face, Jared wiggled around on the couch like an antsy five-year-old, trying to make himself more comfortable, and bringing a soft smile to Jensen’s lips as the older man suddenly looked down, shaking his head in amusement at Jared’s antics.
“What?” Jared asked.
“Nothing,” Jensen softly replied, chuckling. “Go for it, Jared.”
Jared graced Jensen with a bright smile. “Yeah, okay, cool. So, I was fifteen and this was during the summer in San Antonio. Me and my best friend, Brian, were at my house and my folks were at work.”
“Well, that spells trouble right there,” Jensen quipped. “Where was Jeff?”
“Obviously not watching his little brother,” Chris said dryly.
Jared nodded. “Yeah, he was off with his girlfriend, I think. And anyway, I was fifteen. I didn’t need a babysitter.”
Jensen nodded at Chris and Steve while Jared wasn’t looking, causing both men to snort in amusement. Jared cast a suspicious eye back on Jensen, who smiled innocently and offered Jared a shot of tequila. Jared slowly took the offered drink, pretended to sniff it warily while making a face, then burst into giggles and set the shot down on the coffee table.
“Later,” he commented. He continued with his story. “So, like me and my buddy ended up catching a ride from his mom downtown to go see a movie. And well, we got there too late for the one movie and way too early for anything else, so we figured we’d just hang out and wait for the next show.”
“Pippi Longstocking?” Jensen asked, trying to keep a straight face.
“Care Bears movie?” Steve offered, joining in on the fun.
“You guys are assholes,” Jared said, throwing a lemon wedge at Steve’s head. He laughed despite himself. “I don’t even remember what movie it was, man. We never got to see it anyway.”
“Why was that?” Chris asked, sitting up in interest.
Jared held up a finger at Chris, motioning for him to wait, while he grabbed up his tequila shot and slammed it down. He scrunched his face up at the burn of the liquor and then reached for a lemon wedge from the bowl to cut the taste.
“Going down a little hard, there, San Antonio?” Chris joked.
“Nope,” Jared gasped, and Jensen playfully pounded his friend’s back in mock concern until Jared snorted and pushed him away. “Quit, you fucker,” he wheezed, choking and laughing at the same time.
“Y’okay? Ready to go on?” Jensen asked, smirking. “Need me to call 911?”
“Kiss my ass,” Jared teased back.
He choked, gasping with laughter again when Jensen puckered his lips and bent down towards Jared’s denimed rear. Steve and Chris clapped and cheered.
Jensen sat back up before reaching his destination, smiling wide at Jared. “You thought I was gonna do it, didn’t you?”
“Well, hell, you sure looked like you were,” Jared replied. “And you say I’m the crazy one.”
“That’s because I don’t do shit like that in public, Jared,” Jensen said.
“I’ve never tried to make out with your butt in public!”
“No, but you’ve humped my leg on more than one occasion,” Jensen countered smoothly.
Jared’s mouth fell open. “You said that was funny.”
Jensen had the decency to appear chagrined. He looked over at Steve and Chris. “You see? You see what happens when I encourage him? No wonder our fans think the way they do.”
“Dude! You twizzled me on camera!” Jared stated, pointing accusingly at Jensen.
“He what?” Steve and Chris said at the same time.
Excited now, Jared nodded. “Yeah, he totally twizzeled me and it got on Youtube and everything.”
“That sounds vaguely dirty,” Chris mused.
Jensen rolled his eyes. “I poked him in the face with a candy stick.”
“Okay, that definitely sounds dirty,” Steve said, amused when Jensen glared at him. “And as much as I’d love to hear all about your platonic declaration of love with a ‘candy stick’, we need to save that story for another time, ‘cause we’re getting off subject here.”
Jensen let out a hefty sigh of annoyance at being the butt of his friends’ humor once again, but otherwise remained silent.
Turning on the couch to face Jensen, Jared offered up his opinion on the subject. He gave a rather cheesy smile and stuck his tongue out his roommate.
Jensen returned the favor by smacking Jared in the arm.
“Owwww,” Jared lazily drawled, grinning stupidly.
“You’re totally buzzed, aren’t you?” Jensen accused.
Jared nodded happily.
“Well before you decide to pass out on us, how ‘bout you finish your story?” Chris suggested.
“Where was I?” Jared asked. The tequila was making his thought processes a little fuzzy around the edges.
“You and your friend were gonna see a movie, but you didn’t for some reason,” Steve helpfully provided. “So, what did you do instead?”
Jared’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah, that’s right. We, um, we got drunk!”
The room erupted in cackles of laughter.
“Jared, seriously?” Jensen managed to get out in between snorts of laughter.
Jared nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. There was this little mom and pop type liquor store across the street from the movie theater, and me and Brian wandered in, just for something to do while we waited.”
“How’d you get in the store? You were underage.” Steve said.
“I was tall back then too, so I looked older,” Jared replied.
“Not with that baby face,” Chris challenged, eyeing Jared critically.
“Whatever,” Jared said, rolling his eyes. “We sort of just slipped in behind some lady. The store owner prob’ly thought we were her kids or somethin’.”
Sadie whined faintly and Jared looked down to see his dog politely wagging her tail, staring up at him with her “I have to go” look. He struggled to get up from the couch, until Steve put his hands up to stop him.
“Dude, sit. I’ll do it.” Steve rose from the floor and patted his pants leg as he headed for the sliding door out to the backyard. Sadie immediately trotted off after him, Harley rising up from his spot near Jensen’s feet to follow.
“Go on with your story, Jared,” Steve urged over his shoulder as he let the dogs out, flicking on the backyard light for them.
“’Kay, so, we were sort of nervous, you know? ‘Bout being in the store and gettin’ caught, so we headed for the last aisle, farthest from the register. I don’t think we really had planned to do anything bad; we just were goofing around, daring each other and stuff.”
Jensen shot Jared a stern look. “Underage drinking. I should have known. You lush.”
“Yup. That’s me,” Jared chuckled and nodded. “Brian was actually the one that took the bottle of Smirnoff off the shelf and opened it,” he said, giving a regretful snort. “He held it out to me and dared me to take a swig, so of course, I had to do it.”
“Oh, of course,” Chris and Jensen both echoed sarcastically.
“Wait, dude, you drank the vodka in the middle of the store?” Steve asked. Puzzled, he came back to sit down again in front of the coffee table. “Why didn’t you just stuff the bottle under your shirt or down your pants and take it outside?”
“Because that’s what a normal teenager would do, Steve,” Jensen gently confided, earning a half-hearted shove from Jared.
“Shut up, man,” Jared said, trying to look hurt, but not accomplishing it very well. “We were too afraid of the owner. He was like this big, hulking dude with tattoos and a uni-brow.”
Jensen fell back against the couch cushions, laughing hysterically. “A uni-brow?! You were scared of a uni-brow!”
Jared blushed, a pleased grin splitting his face. “Anyway, me and my buddy just stood there in the aisle and passed the bottle back and forth until we’d drank probably close to a third of it. I just remember Brian trying to pass it back to me and I was feeling too dizzy and afraid I’d puke, so I just shook my head.”
“You didn’t worry that the owner or some clerk or something was gonna come over to check you out?” Chris asked.
“I think by then, we were too drunk to care or think about that,” Jared confessed with a shrug. “We screwed the cap back on the bottle and put it back on the shelf and staggered out of the store, giggling.”
“Then whad’ja do, Cap’n Morgan?” Jensen asked.
Jared rolled his eyes, feeling stupid all of a sudden. “We basically found a bench outside the movie theater and passed out on it.” He shifted on the couch, pulling his long legs up to sit Indian style. “We woke up to Brian’s mom, honking her horn at us from the curb.”
“Jesus, Jared, you guys must’ve been passed out there in front of the theater for a couple hours,” Steve commented. His amazed stare made Jared fidget. “That’s hilarious, man. I just never pictured you doing something like that.”
Chris shot Steve a bemused look. “What was he s’posed to do, Carlson? Look for the nearest flophouse? He was fourteen for-”
“Fifteen,” Jensen butted in.
“Fifteen. Whatever,” Chris continued, “The point is, he was a kid, he was wasted and he found the closest place to sleep it off.”
Chris glanced up to notice Jared smiling warmly at him. “What?” Chris asked, the wary irritation evident in his tone.
“Nothing,” Jared replied, still smiling at the other man. “Just that you care.”
“Oh, Christ,” Chris muttered, shaking his head as he reached for the bottle of Patron once again. “Just get on with the story, you fucktard.” He raised a brow at Jensen, a doubtful smile on his unshaven face. “How the hell do you put up with him when he’s like this?”
Jared snorted at that, but continued with his tale. “So, yeah, Brian’s mom is laying on the horn, so we get up, still feeling pretty foo-barred, and start stumbling towards the car…” Jared paused for dramatic emphasis.
“And?” Jensen coaxed.
“And, we get to the car, right? And my hand’s on the door handle even…when the owner of the liquor store comes bolting out of the store, straight for us.”
“Fuck, no way!” Chris said, sitting forward, eyes widening in delight. “You got busted right in the middle of the street?”
Jared nodded, looking sheepish. “Oh, we got so busted. The guy was screaming at Brian’s mom through her window, telling her what we did, and me and Brian were still too buzzed to come up with a lie. Plus, I mean, we totally reeked of alcohol, so it’s not like a lie was gonna cover that up.”
“Breath mints,” Jensen said, nodding sagely.
Steve and Chris looked at Jensen and snorted with derision.
“Really? Breath mints, Ackles?” Chris asked, incredulous.
“What? You’ve never used gum or mints to hide that you’ve had a drink?” Jensen questioned.
“Dude, they downed a fifth of vodka in like twenty minutes. They woulda needed a barrel of Tic-Tacs and a gallon of Scope to cover that up.”
Jensen quirked a smile at his own error. He held up his empty shot glass. “It’s the tequila, man. I can’t think straight. Liquor’s gone to my head.”
The next thing Jensen knew, he was being bombarded with sticks of gum and various breath mints by his other three cohorts.
“Fuck!” he gasped, batting a Lifesavers out of the air before it smacked him in the nose. He dodged a stick of gum, laughing hard. “Okay! I get it! No more talk about mints!”
Jensen calmly reached up and grabbed a stick of gum off his right shoulder, unwrapped it and stuck it in his mouth, ignoring Chris’ chuckle. He picked up another piece from where it lay on his thigh and offered it to Jared.
“Gum?”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks,” Jared said, happily taking the gum. He quickly unwrapped it and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing noisily.
The room broke into uncontrolled snickers after that and it took a few moments for everyone to settle down, helped along by another round of shots.
“So, okay,” Jared said. “Back to me being fifteen and drunk and about to get killed for it.” He reached down, to yank off his Skechers, tossing them over towards the wall, out of the way. “The guy was pretty pissed off about what we did, and Brian’s mom ended up having to pay for the bottle of vodka before the owner would let us go.”
“No charges?” Jensen asked.
Jared shook his head. “Nope. He just wanted his money and told us not to ever come back to his store or he’d call the cops next time. Brian’s mom read us the riot act all the way home too. And that really sucked ‘cause she’s got this kind of high-pitched squeaky voice, you know? And it’s really irritating to listen to, especially when she’s all mad and you’re all drunk,” Jared stated sadly.
“I wish I could’a seen your mom’s face when she found out,” Jensen teased. “Her baby boy. All shit-faced. Tsk, tsk.”
Jared made a face. “Well, I wasn’t too bad by the time I got dropped off at my house, but I sure as hell didn’t earn any brownie points when I stopped to puke into my mom’s rose bushes by the porch right as my dad opened the front door.”
“Oh shit, man,” Chris muttered in sympathy. “No hiding being drunk after that.”
“Dude, you were toast,” Jensen declared. “I know your dad, Jared. He musta kicked your ass all the way from San Antonio to Austin, man.”
Jared laughed softly, remembering the incident. “Hey, at least he was kind enough to let me sleep it off before he laid into me.”
“Yeah, the better to feel the burn, dude,” Steve said.
Jared agreed with a regretful nod. “My daddy took me out to the garage the next morning after breakfast for my punishment, which was totally embarrassing because like everyone at the table knew what was gonna happen and I hadn’t gotten a spanking in years.”
“Like how many years?” Steve asked, curious.
Jared blushed, hiding behind his fringe of bangs. “I think I was nine or ten the last time,” he mumbled. “Set off one of those little bottle rockets in the house.”
Jensen’s brows quirked in surprise at that. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart kid,” he teased. “Doesn’t it even say on the packages of those things not to set them off in the-”
“Right. Whatever, Mr. tennis burglar,” Jared retorted. “You wanna hear about me getting my ass beat or not?”
“Absolutely,” Jensen replied, rubbing his hands together in enthusiasm. “Hey, did Jeff and Megan razz you after?” Jensen asked.
Jared gave him a dark look. “Of course!”
A smile crossed Chris’ face. “Yeah, me and my sister used to do that too.”
Jensen nodded. “Same here. Guess it’s a sibling thing, huh?”
Jared continued. “I don’t know about y’all, but in our home, the garage is where my daddy gave out all the spankings. He had this old workbench out there, and he’d sit down and, you know, he’d uh, pull you over his knee n’ lay down the law.”
“Belt?” Chris guessed.
“Nuh uh,” Jared replied. “But he made me take my jeans down.”
“You’re kidding,” Chris said. “You sneak into a liquor store and get stinking drunk, puke all over the place and you don’t even get it with the belt?”
Jared grinned. “My folks never used anything but their hand. It still hurt, though,” he asserted. “And it was humiliating, being over my dad’s knee like that, getting spanked at that age. I swore that was the last time and it was too.” Jared grabbed up the bottle of tequila, filled everyone’s shot glasses and looked up, green eyes wide and innocent. “And I didn’t touch another drop of alcohol until I met y’all.”
Jensen huffed, incredulous. “Padalecki, you lying sack of shit,” he blurted out, laughing. He watched in satisfaction as the other boy broke down in giggles. “You were drinkin’ long before I ever met you, smart ass. Who’s the one that gets toasted every year at the wrap party? Huh? Not me.”
“Pfft. You just hold your liquor better, Jensen,” Steve offered. “You still get that glassy stare and that stupid little smile on your face though.”
“Exactly!” Jared pointed at Steve, nodding. He swung his gaze over to Jensen, who was sitting next to him. “Tennis racket stealing…Twizzler,” he taunted playfully.
“I’m not even gonna acknowledge that with a comment,” Jensen said calmly. He smiled slyly. “But, hey, I think I have a great idea for your next movie, Jay.” He held up his hands in front of the other boy, as if framing a shot. “Jared: portrait of a teenage alcoholic. Whad’ya think?”
Jensen found himself on the floor in a laughing heap, nose to nose with Sadie, Jared having shoved him off the couch in retaliation, using his long legs to bulldoze Jensen from his seat.
“Okay, so we’ve all had a turn,” Jensen said, getting up from the carpet and plunking back down onto the couch, still smiling. He slapped Jared’s knee. “What’s next? Spin the bottle? Telling ghost stories? Baking cookies?”
Jared snorted. “We turning this into a slumber party now?”
“I vote we wait until Padalecki passes out and then we put makeup on him and paint his nails,” Chris volunteered.
Jensen and Steve both raised their hands in agreement.
“I vote we don’t do that since this is Jared’s house and he has two big dogs that he will sic on you if you do,” Jared countered happily.
“You win,” Steve said.
Chris wasn’t impressed. “I find it hard to be intimidated by a guy whose worst childhood memory is of getting a spanking over his daddy’s knee.”
“Hey, man, it stung,” Jared said. “My dad really gave it to me. I didn’t sit down all day after that.”
Chris shook his head, sitting up in his armchair. “Dude, you cannot compare getting blistered with a belt to getting a little ole hand spanking.”
“Why not?” Jared asked, looking at the others for confirmation. “Either way, it hurts, and you feel bad, and it’s punishment, right?”
Jensen looked at Steve. Steve shrugged.
“I don’t know, Jared,” Steve said. “I mean, I see where you’re coming from, but it’s different, you know?”
“No, I don’t know,” Jared stated, frowning slightly. “I told you, I’ve never gotten it with a belt. Or anything else, other than my dad’s hand. But, what’s the big deal? A spanking’s a spanking.”
“Uh, no,” Jensen joined in, giving Jared a sympathetic look. “Trust me, man. Belt’s way worse.”
“Maybe y’all are just a buncha wusses,” Jared teased. “Maybe y’all just can’t take it like a man.”
Chris’ smile tightened, his eyes focusing on Jared. Time to teach the pup a lesson, he thought. He slowly stood up, hands casually dropping to the fancy tooled silver belt buckle at his waist.
“You wanna find out how much more it hurts?” Chris asked Jared.
Not waiting for a reply from the younger man, Chris unbuckled his belt, pulled it out of the loops of his faded, torn blue jeans and doubled it over in his hand, giving Jared a dangerous look.
“Dude, he’s not a kid anymore,” Jensen scoffed. He pointed at the strip of leather in Chris’ hand. “You’re not gonna make him cry or anything. I mean, I seriously doubt you can compare an ass whipping as a kid to getting one at our age now.”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, I mean, shit Chris, I think we could all handle a smack or two, no problem.” He grinned. “Hell, isn’t that what you and your girlfriends do for fun these days?”
The room erupted in snorts of laughter.
“He’s right,” Jared said.
Chris’s brows almost shot off his head. “Excuse me?” He glared menacingly at Jared.
“No! Not about your girlfriends,” Jared hastily explained, pressing back into the couch cushions. “I meant about being able to handle a belt lickin’.”
Chris smiled. “Prove it,” he challenged, his drawl smooth and dark.
Grinning drunkenly, Jared pushed himself off the couch, to stand up, swaying a little on his feet. He raised his arms up in invitation. “’Kay, smart ass, let’s see what you got.”
Jensen chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “This oughta be good,” he announced. He reached back into his jeans pocket and pulled out his wallet, fishing out a crumpled twenty and laying it onto the coffee table in front of him. “Twenty says he can’t take ten licks without losing it.”
Jared scowled at Jensen. “Dude! You’re betting against me?”
“Hell yeah, Jare.” Jensen smiled, nodding. “You cry when you get a paper cut.”
“I do not!”
“Yeah, you do.”
“It was a deep paper cut, man. It bled. A lot.”
“Whatever. Ten licks or twenty bucks, big boy.”
Jared sighed, rolled his eyes, and nodded. “Fine. Twenty says I can take it like a man. But,” Jared raised a finger in challenge. “Another twenty says you can’t take ten with Chris’ belt either.”
Jensen’s smile was full of mischief. “Seriously? You really wanna make that bet, Jared?”
Chris set his belt down on his chair, pulled out his wallet and dropped two twenties onto the pile accumulating on the coffee table. “I’m in,” he growled, smiling sweetly. “I say neither of you pansy asses can take a belt whupping off me.”
Fifteen minutes later, the pile of money had grown considerably. Steve had entered the challenge, with Jared and Jensen counter-challenging until all four men had bet one another that they couldn’t handle ten licks from Chris’ belt. It took another ten minutes of drunken arguing to agree on who would deliver the licks amongst them.
Which is how Jared found himself, ass in the air, bent over the arm of his own leather couch, staring at the cushions and wondering how he’d managed once again to get himself into such a mess. They had tucked the dogs into his bedroom upstairs to avoid them getting freaked out over Jared being ‘attacked’ by Chris and his belt.
Not that Jared was worried any. Doing his own stunts on the show had provided him plenty of chances for injuries and he’d always toughed them out, so what was a spanking really going to do? Seriously, he and Jensen had suffered enough bumps, bruises and cuts to give them a healthy appreciation for true pain. He’d broken his wrist on set a couple years ago and although it had hurt like hell, he’d managed to finish the shoot before asking for a ride to the hospital. Pain was relative, Jared thought.
“Ready?” Chris called from behind Jared.
“Bring it,” Jared replied. He waggled his butt comically at the three standing behind him, grinning stupidly when he got a laugh.
Jensen crossed his arms over his chest, amusement tipping up the corners of his mouth. “Little idiot,” he mumbled, tone more affectionate than the words accounted for.
There was a whoosh and then the sound of leather smacking heavily against a denim-covered backside, the sharp crack echoing impressively off the gleaming white walls of the living room.
Jensen and Steve both grimaced, flinching.
Jared let out a harsh gasp, lips peeled away from his tightly clenched teeth. His eyes practically bugged out of his head as he shot up from the couch with a loud yell.
“FUCK!”
Chris grinned wickedly, stepping back to let Jared have some room as he danced about, both hands plastered to the seat of his pants, a string of obscenities falling effortlessly from his mouth in a comical Texas drawl.
“Mutherfuckin’sonuvawhoregawddamnshiiit!”
Steve collapsed against Jensen, laughing so hard, tears fell from his eyes as Jensen too, burst into helpless gales of laughter, grabbing his side with one hand while still trying to hold up Steve.
Jared, finally able to collect himself, began to chuckle as well, the laughs interspersed with groans, as he continued to rub his stinging backside.
“Fuck, Kane!” Jared complained. “Motherfucker. That really hurt!”
“Yeah?” Chris let the sarcasm roll. “You ready to concede to the fact that getting your ass hit with a belt is more painful than getting it with just a hand?”
“Um, yes,” Jared answered solemnly. “Fuck, how long is this gonna burn?” he asked, squirming. He peered unsuccessfully over his shoulders, bending and twisting, trying to get a view of his own rear end. “No, seriously. This isn’t gonna leave like a black and blue mark, is it?”
“Why? You plannin’ on doing a nude scene next week, Jared?” Chris asked innocently, earning a sour glare from Jared.
Jensen and Steve both started snorting uncontrollably again.
“You do realize you just lost the bet, right dude?” Jensen spoke up once he’d caught his breath.
Jared looked up at that. “What? No way! I didn’t bet that it wouldn’t hurt. I figured it was gonna hurt, you know…just…not as much as it did…” his voice trailed off, as he once again felt compelled to rub at his smarting backside.
“Well now you know, huh?” Jensen said, giving Jared an encouraging pat on the shoulder, despite the scowl his roommate threw at him.
“Jared, you bet you could take ten from Chris and that was only one, dude,” Steve pointed out. “You lose.”
Jared glanced over at the money on the coffee table and then over at Jensen. He feigned a pout. “Aw, c’mon. Gimme another chance. Now, I know what to expect.” He gave Jensen his famous puppy eyes. “Please? C’mon, Jensen, pleeeease?”
Jensen shrugged and nodded. Damn Jared and that pathetic pouty face of his. “Fine.” He looked over at Steve and Chris. “How ‘bout it, you two?”
“Sure,” Chris stated, re-folding his belt in his hand to get ready. “But, that one doesn’t count, so you still got ten comin’.”
Jared blinked, mouth falling open. “What? Whad’you mean it doesn’t count? Why doesn’t it count?”
“You didn’t stay down, Jared. Gotta keep your position for it to count.” Chris motioned for Jared to bend back over the couch arm. “You can holler and cuss all you want, but you stand up, move away or try to cover your ass while you’re getting your whupping, boy, and you forfeit.”
“Sounds fair,” Steve conceded.
“Works for me,” Jensen added. He smiled, clapping his hands together in obvious glee. “Let’s go, J‑dog. Time to take your medicine.”
Jared shot Jensen a withering stare before positioning himself back over the arm of the couch. “Laugh it up, smartass. Yours is comin’. And I hope Chris makes you cry,” he teased.
Chris let the belt fly at that moment, and Jared clamped his mouth shut, teeth almost taking part of his tongue off as he felt the raw heat snake across his ass. He grunted in pain.
“Someone count ‘em off,” Chris asked. He raised the belt again, grinning evilly.
“One,” Steve and Jensen counted in unison.
Whack!
“JESUS! Fuck…”
“Two.”
Whack!
“OW!”
“Thr-” Whack!
“Four.”
“Goddammit!” Jared grunted, shifting along the couch arm in misery. “Kane, you bastard, let ‘em get the fuckin’ count out before you-”
Whack!
“Five.”
“Fuck! You cocksucker!” Jared drawled, earning a round of chuckles from Jensen and Steve.
Chris began laughing. The rest of the licks came quick and steady, Jared gasping and cursing but keeping his position with the help of a death grip on the couch cushions in front of him.
“That’s ten, man,” Steve finally announced.
Jensen was immediately at Jared’s side, as the younger man slowly stood up, an expression somewhere between pain and chagrin contorting his features.
Jared’s hands automatically found their way to his aching butt, where they very carefully cradled the over sensitive body part. No rubbing this time. Not yet, anyway. Any touch at all would just ignite the fire even more at this point. There’d be time for rubbing…and ice…lots of ice…later.
“You okay?” Jensen asked quietly.
Jared cocked his head at Jensen. “I just got my ass roasted with a belt.” He couldn’t help it, he began laughing. “Fuck no, I’m not okay.”
Jensen patted Jared’s arm. “I knew you could do it.”
Jared pretended to shove Jensen away. “You bet against me, asshole.”
Jensen smiled. “I had to make this interesting.”
“Uh huh. Let’s see how interesting you think it is now.” Jared moved aside and nodded at the couch. “Your turn, tough guy.”
“Okay,” Jensen said, appearing calm.
Inside, his stomach knotted a little. He’d seen how hard Chris was laying on the strap, and he wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t do like his roommate and jump up, wanting nothing more than to escape the swing of the belt.
Swallowing hard, Jensen gave his friends his best Dean Winchester smirk of defiance before closing his eyes, waiting for the first smack of leather.
Chris didn’t leave Jensen waiting long. He swung from the shoulder, feeling his belt connect solidly with Jensen’s ass, grinning smugly at the bitten off yelp of pain the younger man fought to hide.
As Steve and Jared sounded off the count, Chris laid down a second stripe, this time catching Jensen low across the crease. Jensen jolted forward over the arm, cursing loudly.
Chris leaned casually over Jensen’s back. “You okay there, Jenny?” he smoothly drawled.
“Fuck you, Chris,” Jensen managed between clenched teeth. “Keep going, you sadistic bast-”
WHACK! It caught Jensen right across the middle of both cheeks.
“Christ!”
“Two.”
“That one looked like it hurt,” Jared commented with a smirk. He looked at Steve. “Didn’t that look like it hurt?”
“Jared, I know where you sleep!” Jensen spat over his shoulder. Chris let fly again, and Jensen grunted loudly, hissing as the leather laid down a blazing line of fire.
“Three.”
“Jesus, fuck, Kane! You getting’ off on this, or what?” Jensen questioned acidly.
Steve sucked in a breath. “Shouldn’t a said that,” he muttered under his breath, smirking.
Chris was quick to reply to the taunt with a trio of licks, layered one over the top of another, in rapid succession, across Jensen’s upturned backside.
“MOTHERFUCKER!” Jensen howled, arching halfway up off the arm of the couch before catching himself, and with a ragged indrawn breath of air, slumping back down.
“Uh, that was…six. We’re up to six,” Jared announced, not even trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. “You gonna make it, Jensen? Sure you don’t wanna fold?”
Jared knew exactly how Jensen was feeling at the moment and while he could empathize with his best friend, Jared wasn’t above getting some satisfaction out of knowing he wouldn’t be the only one sleeping on his belly this evening because fuck if there weren’t welts raised all over his ass right now.
“Jay, I’m gonna kill you,” Jensen growled teasingly, shaking his head at his own stupidity. He winced as the next stripe of pain flared across his butt. “No. Strike that. I’m gonna kill Chris first, and then I’m gonna kill you.”
“How many?” Chris questioned. He rotated his stiff shoulder, loosening it up a bit.
“That was seven,” Steve answered.
Chris nodded. He patted Jensen’s back. “You got three more, Ackles. Want ‘em fast or slow?”
Jensen didn’t even hesitate. He grinned fiercely. “Just get ‘em over with, you backwoods, talentless hack!”
Chris snickered in amusement and let Jensen have it - three in a row - crisscrossing the young actor’s butt in a haphazard fashion, the popping sound of the belt loud in the room.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this for what? Three hundred and change?” Jensen groaned as he stood back up, eyeing Chris. “We must be really drunk and really bored, because, dude, that fucking pile of money is so not worth it.” He laughed, reaching back to offer his rear end a gingerly rub. “Damn, Chris. What the hell is that belt made out of? Steel?”
Chris flexed the belt in his hands, snapping it. “Just good old American-made leather, son.” He smiled. “What’sa matter, Jenny? Your pretty little ass too tender?”
“My pretty little ass is gonna kick your ugly little ass,” Jensen kidded, smiling back. “Here,” he motioned for the belt. “Gimme that. Your arms’s gotta be tired and I wanna make sure Steve gets the full effect Jared and I got.”
Steve choked. “Oh hell no, man. You’re just waiting to take your pain out on someone.”
Jensen’s grin widened. “Yeah? Well, I guess you’re the one I’m taking it out on, Steve-O. So, assume the position.” He pointed smugly to the couch arm.
Steve sighed. He grabbed up the Patron and took a deep swig, then rolled his eyes and lowered himself over the arm of the couch, but not without a dirty glower at Chris first. “You and your dumb ass ideas.”
Chris chuckled, holding up his hands. “Hey, I didn’t pressure you to join in, here, Carlson. You could’a opted out at any time.”
Steve eyed the money on the table. He wasn’t hurting, but hell, three hundred dollars was nothing to sneeze at either.
“Nope. You’re right.” Steve waved a hand over his shoulder at Jensen. “Okay, big daddy, let’s go. Let’s get this over with.”
Enjoying being on the other end of the belt now, Jensen took a moment to eye Steve’s ass, pretending to calculate the angle and trajectory until Steve growled at him to hurry the fuck up.
Jensen swung hard, and Steve jerked over the arm, but remained silent.
“Aw, you didn’t hit him hard enough,” Chris admonished. “C’mon, Jenny, swing from the shoulder. Put some power into it.”
Jensen glared at Chris. “Just wait,” he threatened. “I’m saving it all up for you, Christian.”
“That was one, by the way,” Jared interjected.
Jensen took position again, and swung, this time catching Steve across his upper thighs. Steve yelled this time.
“Shit!” he gasped, turning slightly, an amazed look on his face. “Felt that one. Damn. Aim’s a little off there, J.”
“How’s this one?” Jensen asked. He laid the belt down neatly bisecting Steve’s butt, beaming when Steve once again swore and jumped. “That one work for you, Steve?”
“Fuck you, Jensen,” Steve grunted.
“That’s two,” Jared stated with a smirk.
Jensen looked over at Chris and Jared, his eyes asking the question of whether or not he should give Steve the triple play, like Chris had done to Jared and him. Both men nodded enthusiastically. Jensen smiled.
“Ready, Steve?” Jensen asked sweetly.
Steve rolled his eyes. “Jesus, dude, just go. You don’t have to ask my permission every t-”
Whack! Whack! Whack!
Everyone watched in wonder as Steve’s left leg suddenly lifted up, the toes of his left foot curling frantically inside their sock. The musician squirmed over the arm of the couch and then let out a torrent of cussing, stringing words together in an imaginative way that had the other men in the room bent over in hysterics.
Jared snorted, almost spitting on himself while Chris shook with silent laughter.
Jensen, laughing hard, swiped at his eyes, choking slightly. “Steve? You need a minute, man?”
“I’m good,” was the gasped reply.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Jensen glanced over at Jared. “Count?”
“Five, total,” Jared answered, still trying to stifle his chuckles.
“Number six,” Jensen gleefully announced and then planted another scorching lick across his friend’s wriggling butt. “And seven right behind it,” he added, smacking down the belt again.
“Okay, Chris isn’t allowed to decide what we do anymore,” Steve complained, laughing over his shoulder. “Shit! My ass feels like it’s going numb!”
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Jensen quipped. He spanked Steve with the belt three more times, the cracks solid, then smacked his friend on the butt once with his hand, eliciting a growl and a curse. “You’re done, dude.”
Steve rolled off the arm of the couch with a grunt. “And we thought this would be fun, why?” He scowled and palmed his throbbing butt. “Where’s the tequila, dammit?”
Jensen, Jared and Chris laughed. Steve drank straight from the bottle, grimacing.
Jensen, slapped the belt into the palm of his left hand, a nasty smirk on his face. “So…Chris…I believe you’re up.” His eyes darkened. “And I’m not gonna lie to you, man, I’m gonna enjoy this.”
Chris smiled right back, eyes hooded. He held up his hands. “Ya know what? I forfeit.”
He walked over to the chair he’d been sitting in all night, a devilish grin on his face.
“What?” Jensen stood, eyeing his friend in mild shock. “You what?”
“I forfeit, Jenny,” Chris said again, satisfaction written clearly across his smug features. “You suckers can keep the money. Hell, it was worth it just to see you get your asses tanned.” He began laughing.
The room was deathly silent for a second before it erupted in pandemonium.
“THE FUCK-”
“Chris, you fucking douchebag!”
“You’re a dead man, Kane…”
Chris continued to smile brilliantly until his three companions rushed him and dragged him from the chair, pinning him to the floor.
“Hey!” He yelped as a pair of large hands rotated him so that he was face down, nose pressed into the pile of the carpeting. Chris struggled but his arms were pinned down and someone was actually sitting on his legs. “Get the fuck off me, you rejects!”
“Not ‘til you get your spanking, young man,” Jensen chirped from somewhere off Chris’ left shoulder.
“I keep telling you that smart ass bit is gonna get you in trouble, Chris. Every time,” Steve admonished, shaking his head.
“Oh, hell no!” Chris roared when he felt his jeans being yanked down. “No way! I didn’t make you take your pants down!”
“Quitters can’t be choosers,” Jared lectured, grinning and patting Chris on his boxers. “Take it like a man, Kane.”
“Fuck,” Chris groaned under his breath as he heard his belt slicing through the air.
THE END