RockStarPeach

Title: The First Time
Pairing: Jensen/Misha
Rating: Adult
Summary: High school AU. Jensen experiences a lot of his first times with Misha. Most of the ones that really stand out are firsts for them both. Featuring blushing virgin!Jensen and crossdressing!Misha.
A/N: Prequel to a story I wrote a while back, Another Thing To Fall, where Jensen and Misha’s relationship is tested when Jensen meets Jared.
Word count: 19800
Warnings: drug use, slight underage (fic starts when Jensen is 15, Misha is 17, no penetrative sex until they’re both over 18), underage use of alcohol

***


The first time Jensen meets the love of his life, he doesn’t even realise that’s what’s happening.

Of course he doesn’t; he’s fifteen years old, uncertain about his sexuality and he’s worried that he’s going to be late for dinner because his first period music teacher gave him detention for making a lewd gesture with Andrea’s flute. He’s been trying to fit in at a new school for two weeks now and sure, people seem to like him fine, but he’s spent the past two Friday nights at home, texting his friends from five states over because he hasn’t actually made any new friends yet.

He’s still pissed off at his dad for getting that stupid promotion and moving them to the middle of fucking nowhere (okay, Cicero, Illinois, just outside Chicago) and right now he’s busy trying to decide which cheerleader he should ask out – one that’s pretty and popular enough to get him noticed but not one who’s got a bad reputation because Jensen is a good boy – so he’s got other things on his mind than happily ever after with the captain of the debate team.

Which is why he blinks and jerks back, almost drops the slice of pizza that’s halfway to his mouth when Misha Collins sits down next to him at the lunch table and leans close to speak directly into his ear.

“Are you gonna eat that?” he asks Jensen, gesturing at his pizza and Jensen slowly closes his mouth, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh,” he answers, looks down at the tray in front of Misha, the tray that’s got its own slice of pizza, along with two pudding cups and an apple. “Yeah. Thought I might.”

Misha nods and picks up his slice, folds it in half and takes a huge bite from the tip. He looks over at Jensen and smiles a big, open-mouthed smile around his food. Jensen snorts and shakes his head, takes his own normal-sized bite of lunch and waves when Rob, from his geography class, walks by and plops down with a few of his friends a couple tables over.

He’s been eating lunch most days with Rob since he started school here but it seems like Misha might be scaring off the closest thing he has to a friend so far. He’s not sure what he thinks about that, given he has no idea if Misha’s trying to be his friend at this point, or just trying to freak him out.

After ten minutes, Misha still hasn’t said anything else and Jensen is starting to think there might be something wrong with him. Granted, Jensen hasn’t spoken either, but Jensen isn’t the one who sat down next to some random stranger and ogled his lunch.

“I’m Jensen,” he offers lamely. He feels kind of like an idiot, but he needs to fill the silence with something. It’s frustrating because he’s usually pretty good with people but Misha is throwing him off for some reason, making him want to check if there’s something between his teeth, or his hair’s sticking up funny.

“Do you like pudding, Jensen?” Misha doesn’t offer his own name. Probably figures Jensen knows it already, because everybody knows who Misha is. He’s not the most popular guy in the school or anything, but he’s a senior and he’s in a few clubs and he does dumb shit like dress up as a clown and sing Happy Birthday to his friend in the cafeteria. It’s sort of hard not to notice him.

“I guess?” he answers, makes it sound like a question because seriously, what’s up with this guy? He’s hot, for sure. And the way he plays with the edge of his lunch tray creates a sort of tingle at the base of Jensen’s spine that makes him squirm a little, but he seems… off.

Misha smiles and nods triumphantly, like he just won a bet with himself and he takes one of the pudding cups from his tray to place it in front of Jensen. Jensen just stares at it for a few seconds until Misha rolls his eyes at himself, mumbles “right, sorry” and passes Jensen one of his spoons.

The thing is, Jensen doesn’t really like pudding, especially the pre-packaged, chocolate crap, but he opens it up and eats it anyway. Because it would be kind of rude not to. And Misha seems oddly determined to be nice to him.

“Thanks, man,” Jensen says when he’s finished. He arranges all his garbage on his tray and makes to grab it up as he starts to stand.

“No problem,” Misha tells him, places a warm hand down over Jensen’s as it grips the orange plastic. Jensen shivers and stops moving. “So I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Jensen blinks and sits back down all the way before wrinkling his nose slightly.

“Why would you do that?”

“You’re a sophomore, right?” Misha starts. “I’m assuming you don’t have a license, but if you really want to drive, I’m open to breaking a law or two. Do you have a piece of paper? Let me give you my address.”

“No,” Jensen says, shaking his head. Shit, talking to this guy is even weirder than sitting in awkward silence with him. “I mean… pick me up for what?”

Misha looks at Jensen like his confusion is somehow adorable and simply says, “our date.”

“We don’t have a date.” They don’t. Jensen’s pretty sure he’d remember making a date with Misha Collins.

“Well, not with you being this deliberately obtuse we don’t. I’m hoping that’s about to change.”

“Wait, you’re asking me out?” How did he miss that?

“Damn,” Misha says, frowning at him like he’s disappointed. “I was hoping you were smart. Oh well. At least you’re cute. So? Seven okay?”

Jensen wants to say yes. Hell, Misha is damn good looking and he seems really nice (if a bit odd) so far, but Jensen has never been on an actual date before and he’s not sure he even knows how. Getting kissed by Jake behind the library and making out with Matt in the locker room after football practice were certainly fun (and educational) experiences, but they didn’t really count as dates. Neither did the time Nancy gave him a hickey or when he got his hand up Lindsey’s skirt.

Plus, he’s still not sure why Misha suddenly decided to talk to him like this and it makes him a little nervous about his motivations. And he’s almost certain that he’s decided on asking Nicki out, because she’s in his grade and she’s single and she kissed his cheek when he leant her a quarter for the payphone last week and she looks damn hot in her cheerleading uniform.

It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of him if he cancelled on her now. Or… cancelled on his plans to make plans that he’d have to cancel if he went on a date with Misha. Or… something.

Fine, so he’s kind of a pussy and he doesn’t want the first impression that the kids at school have of him to be that he’s queer. He’s not even sure if he is queer, because he seems to like girls just fine and if guys do it for him too, well, he doesn’t exactly hide that, but he kind of really wants to date a cheerleader.

Shut up.

He’s quiet for so long that in the end he doesn’t even have to turn Misha down. Misha just kind of nods his head and gives Jensen a small smile, squeezes Jensen’s arm lightly (with the hand that Jensen had completely forgotten was still there) and stands up.

“Some other time, then,” he says. As he starts to walk away he puts that same damn hand on Jensen’s shoulder, slides it to the back of his neck and bends down so that his chin his resting on Jensen’s shoulder from behind.

“I mean it,” he whispers. “You’re not off the hook yet, Jensen Ackles.”

And then he’s gone before Jensen can ask him how he knew his last name.

***

It turns out Nicki doesn’t want to date him, but she’s not opposed to sucking a little face with him after school to try to make Tim jealous. Jensen’s cool with that. Nicki’s still pretty, so he doesn’t mind the kissing and now that he’s actually talked with her a little, he knows she’s sort of a vapid moron, so he really doesn’t mind the not dating.

Jensen’s leaning up against the brick wall out back of the school, Nicki’s got her tongue down his throat and he’s got his hand on her ass over those cute little cheer shorts of hers. It’s nice enough, fun and they’ve gotten enough attention that everyone will be talking about this tomorrow, but as soon as Tim walks by in his practice sweats on the way to the football field, Nicki gives Jensen’s lips one last lick and pulls back.

She winks, wiggles a few fingers at him in an irritatingly cute sort of a wave and skips off with a group of her friends towards the sideline. He’s pretty sure that it’s never going to happen again, but that’s okay.

He sighs and kicks off the wall, bends down to pick up his backpack where he’d dropped it on the ground and when he turns to start walking home, he stops. Because there’s Misha Collins, where he most certainly wasn’t five seconds ago and Jensen vaguely wonders if he’s got some kind of teleportation powers or something while he swallows his heart back down into his chest, where it belongs.

“Shit, man,” he says, not bothering to fight his grin. Seeing Misha sort of always makes him happy and he can’t quite place why. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“You like girls?” Misha asks him with a humouring smile, like what he’d really just said was ‘you play with Lego? That’s so cute!’. It’s sort of insulting. On the one hand, Jensen hates him for it. On the other, he almost doesn’t care that every time they talk, they seem to be having separate conversations that only occasionally converge.

And the thing is, Jensen doesn’t even know how to answer that question. Assuming he wants to answer at all. He likes girls fine, thinks they’re pretty and he even jerks off thinking about them sometimes, but a few kisses here and there don’t make for much practical research, so he’s not entirely sure.

“Not exclusively,” he settles on, because he thinks that’s true enough. “I do like cheerleaders.”

“That’s good,” Misha tells him, stepping just a little closer. “But just so you know, I’m not above wearing a dress, if it’ll help.”

Jensen barks out a sharp laugh at that and steps around Misha so he’s no longer blocking Jensen’s path.

“I bet you’ve got the legs for it,” Jensen calls back after a few steps and the deep belly laugh he gets from Misha in response is enough to keep him smiling for the rest of the afternoon.

The next morning Jensen stands in front of his locker and spends way too long searching for his English notebook. He’s usually a lot more organised, but it’s not his fault he thumbs over it four times before he actually remembers that purple is for English, not history. It’s just that quarter past eight is way too early to start classes and Jensen’s really not a morning person.

He grabs his book and fishes around under some loose papers on the floor for a pen and when he shuts the locker door he blinks and takes a step back.

Because of course, there’s Misha Collins’ face, right where grey metal had just been. Fuck that guy is quiet.

“Misha,” he says, lips turning up at the corners just slightly. He can’t help it. “You gotta stop just…”

And then Jensen glances down at the rest of Misha, the part that’s not just his face and Jensen freezes. His jaw drops and he looks again, slowly, all the way down Misha’s body to his feet and back up again.

Misha isn’t wearing a dress like he’d mentioned yesterday, but he is dressed up in the short frills and tight-fitting cotton of a female cheerleader. The short-cropped, yellow sweater allows a thin line of skin to peak out around his middle when he moves even a little bit, the pleated white mini-skirt shows off thin, muscular legs that Jensen has to admit he was very, very right about and the ankle socks and white tennis shoes just look ridiculous.

But so, so hot.

He opens his mouth to say something, blinks again and then bursts out laughing. Misha doesn’t react at all, just stands there by Jensen’s locker looking calm, cool and collected, like Jensen’s the one behaving oddly by laughing for no reason.

“What… what the hell, man?” Jensen asks between deep, sucking breaths.

“I like you,” Misha tells him, soundly way too reasonable. “You like cheerleaders. This seemed like the perfect solution.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jensen says, trying to tone down his smile, if only because his cheeks are getting sore. It’s hilarious, the way Misha looks, but Jensen’s not going to lie to himself, it’s also turning him on, in a fucked up kind of way. “You’re dressed like that so I’ll make out with you before football practice tonight?”

“No,” Misha answers, like Jensen’s kind of slow. “I’m wearing this to make you laugh and turn you on.”

Jensen does stop smiling then, his eyes go wide and he holds his notebook tighter in front of him. God, he hopes he’s not that obvious, hopes Misha doesn’t know that outfit is working for Jensen in more than a couple of horribly perverted ways.

“Relax,” Misha tells him, eyes going soft. “You’re not the first guy to find this hot. Hell, you’re not even the first guy today. They boy in line behind me for breakfast this morning just about humped my leg.”

“That…” Jensen starts, sort of at a loss. “That makes sense, I guess. You’re very pretty.”

“And that’s only one of the reasons you’re going to agree to go out with me.”

“You seem very sure of yourself.”

“I’m willing to wear this outfit in bed,” Misha tells him, completely deadpan. “And I’m very flexible.”

His eye twitches just slightly, almost a wink but not quite and then he’s gone, bouncing off down the hall leaving Jensen there to watch Misha shake his hips and he nearly chokes on his own tongue.

***

The next day Misha shows up wearing the same damn thing and Jensen wonders where he was even able to get it. He must have a friend on the squad. Either that or he was telling the truth the other day and he does like to dress up like a cheerleader in bed so he just happened to have it lying around.

He sees him in the hall between first and second periods and he’s on his way over to talk to him. To say what, he’s not sure, but two days in a row of dressing like a girl deserves some form of acknowledgement.

Before he gets there though, Misha’s stopped by two other guys, guys Jensen doesn’t know by name but recognises as friends of Misha’s, and once they’ve finished laughing at him, Jensen hears one of them say, “Seriously, Misha. I know you like to play dress up, but what’s going on with this? Did you lose a bet or something?”

Jensen stops a few feet away and just listens.

“I’ve met the man of my dreams,” Misha tells them as he smoothes out a few imaginary wrinkles in his uniform. It should look silly, but it doesn’t. “And I’m declaring my intentions.”

“And your intentions are to be a pretty little girl for him?” one of them asks, Misha and the other laughing together at the question.

“My intentions are to do whatever it takes to get his attention,” Misha tells them, after he’s stopped laughing. “And after that, I’ll let him know who I really am.”

For some reason, as he watches them all turn the corner and head to their next class, that’s when Jensen decides that he really does want to go out on a date with Misha Collins.

And he’s not even going to make him wear the skirt.

***

The first time Jensen goes on a date it’s a Friday night in late October and Misha has been wearing the cheerleading uniform for a full two weeks.

“Dude, how long are you going to keep wearing that?” Jensen had asked, one day in the hall outside Misha’s locker.

“Until I ask you out and you say yes.”

“You know, you haven’t actually asked me out since that first time.”

“True. Perhaps I’m holding off because wearing this makes me feel pretty.”

“You’re such a freak.”

Two days later Jensen finally caved and cornered Misha in the lunch line.

“Misha. Misha, hold up.”

“Jensen. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Yeah. I go here too, you know? We’ve had the same lunch period for like, two months.”

“Would you like a pudding cup?” Misha had asked, grabbing one off the line and holding it up for Jensen’s approval.

“No. No, I… Okay, will you please put some damn pants on and go out on a date with me?”

“It’s so sudden,” Misha told him, holding a hand to his chest and batting his eyes, all feigned surprise. He looked cuter than fuck, but Jensen had a hard time not punching him in the arm. Bastard.

“Dude, just… Friday after school. Meet me out front after last period.”

And now it’s Friday afternoon at 2:47 and Jensen is headed to the front steps of the school, wondering if maybe he should have actually planned something for today. Technically he’s the one that did the asking, in the end, so it’s really his responsibility to make sure Misha has a good time.

He doesn’t have much money on him, so he hopes Misha is down with cheap fun and he thinks that he maybe should remember to pop a breath mint at some point because he’s pretty sure Misha’s going to want Jensen to kiss him at the end of this thing.

He doesn’t have much time to worry about it though, because as soon as he pushes open the front door to the school he sees Misha, leaning against the railing at the bottom of the front stairs and he smiles and stands up straighter, when Jensen makes his way over.

“So where are you taking me?” Jensen tries, but Misha doesn’t let him off the hook. Of course.

“Oh no,” he says as they start to walk together down the street towards downtown. “You’re taking me out, so you tell me where we’re going.”

“Yeah, great,” Jensen mumbles, but he has to bite his lip to keep the grin from spreading across his face when Misha takes his hand.

The date is actually pretty awesome, once they get into it.

Jensen leads Misha to an arcade, probably the last one left in town and the games are shitty and overpriced, but Jensen manages to kick Misha’s ass at Mike Tyson’s Punch Out about as many times as he doubles Misha’s score at Pacman, so all in all, it’s a pretty great afternoon for him, game-wise. And the company is pretty sweet, too.

So is the way Misha’s fingers slink over his spine on occasion and settle on top of his thigh when they get the chance.

It’s not until three hours later and Jensen starts to feel his stomach rumble in anticipation of dinner that he realises he’s only got about five bucks left in his wallet. He doesn’t want to ask Misha to pay for supper, because his dad would kick his ass for taking someone on a date and making them pay for any part of it, but he doesn’t want to call it a night either, because despite his initial reservations, he’s having a pretty kick-ass time.

Now that they’ve gotten the chance to hang out a little, Misha’s actually really fuckin’ cool. He’s funny. Funnier than just dressing up like a chick to get Jensen’s attention and he’s genuinely nice and he seems pretty smart and he still does that thing. That thing where he makes Jensen tingle all over, makes him smile and makes his heart beat faster and makes him half hard just by being there.

Jensen’s liked people before, liked them enough to fool around a little, but he’s never had a boyfriend or girlfriend. If he had, he thinks this might be how it would make him feel and as he wracks his brain to come up with a way to keep the date going on zero cash, he wonders if it’s too early to start calling Misha his boyfriend.

Yeah, he thinks, it probably is. They should at least swap a little spit first. And he’s absolutely going to wait until Misha says it first. He doesn’t want to look desperate.

“Very manly,” Misha tells him, when his game avatar knocks Misha’s out for the third time in a row and Misha nudges Jensen with his shoulder.

“Shit. Was I supposed to let you win or something?”

Misha laughs and shakes his head. “No. But that’s about enough humiliation for me for one day. Do you want to go grab something to eat?”

Shit. He’s so screwed here. Or, he is until he sees that on the few pool tables on the other side of the arcade, people are playing for money. Not much, looks like about two bucks a game, but Jensen’s pretty good and if he can get in there, he can probably make enough to buy Misha some pizza or a burger.

“Sure, yeah,” Jensen says, but he’s leading Misha towards the back already. “You wanna shoot some stick first though? Looks like fun.”

“It’s not really my game,” Misha tells him, puts his hand on Jensen’s bicep as he’s reaching into his jeans. “But you go ahead. I like to watch.”

Jensen coughs a little, his fingers fumble over the bills in his pocket but he manages to pull a couple of them out, smile at Misha and put the money down on the side of the table to secure his place in line. And all without looking like too much of an idiot.

Jensen ends up winning five games in a row and even though Misha is encouraging him to keep going, he decides to quit while he’s ahead. The last thing he needs is to get overconfident and end up coming off like a giant loser. It’s more than a little unnerving, how eager he is to make a good impression here.

“Thought you were hungry,” he says and Misha nods, throws an arm over Jensen’s shoulders while they navigate through the machines and people and out onto the street.

“I like falafel,” Misha tells him, before Jensen can even ask where he wants to go.

“I… uh…” Jensen says, looking up and down the street helplessly, because he’s pretty sure there isn’t actually any falafel within five miles of where they are. “What about tacos?”

Misha ducks his head close to Jensen’s and slips his arm down so he’s once again holding Jensen’s hand. “Not quite the same thing,” Misha tells him. “But that sounds really good, too.”

Dinner is uneventful but pleasant and when they’re finished Jensen has three dollars left and he’s still not ready to say goodnight.

He feels like a dickhead for it, but they sneak into a movie afterwards, just to keep the date going. Jensen knows the door, knows how to yank, how hard and at what angle. Knows to wait until the movie has been playing for about ten minutes already and knows to keep low and to the right once they’re inside.

Misha, of course, is awesome about the whole thing and doesn’t even mention the sneaking in thing except to ask how he knows how to do this.

“My cousin works here,” Jensen whispers while some girl onscreen fits herself into a skimpy dress, and her friends fill up their glasses with wine, chattering about some ‘hot new club’. Figures they’d sneak into some chick flick. “He gets free passes, but he gives them to his girlfriend, so he taught me how to get in without getting noticed. It’s only this theatre though, and I never know what’s playing ahead of time. Sorry about…” he trails off and waves at the screen.

Misha laughs and leans closer, rests a hand on Jensen’s leg and Jensen thinks ‘fuck it’, lifts his arm and places it easily around Misha’s shoulders. “To be completely honest,” Misha says, “I’m not going to be paying a lot of attention to the movie.”

“You just went along with this to get me in a close, dark space,” Jensen says, pretending to sound scandalised.

“And you’re surprised? I was pretty sure I’ve been obvious about that since the first day we met.”

“If you think I’m kissing you for the first time in the middle of a Christina Applegate movie with a bunch of girls from our school sitting two rows behind us, think again,” Jensen mock-scolds.

“So you are going to kiss me,” Misha says, and settles into his chair to face the screen instead of Jensen. It’s not exactly the response Jensen expected, but he’ll take it. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Jensen smiles and doesn’t really notice the rest of the movie pass.

He walks Misha home afterwards, because he’s a gentleman.

Misha tells him he doesn’t have to, but Jensen knows that when he gets home his parents are going to ask where the hell he’s been until ten o’clock without calling and he’s going to have to tell them. He’ll get in enough shit for missing supper, he doesn’t want to hear them bitch at him for not making sure his date got home safe, even though Misha’s seventeen years old and knows the neighbourhood a lot better than Jensen does.

They stop on the sidewalk just in front of the path that leads up to Misha’s front door. It’s about a twenty minute walk from here to Jensen’s house – they live in opposite directions from the school – but it’s a nice night and Jensen really doesn’t mind.

“So, thanks,” Jensen says when he sees Misha start to smirk. Mostly just so that he can be the one talking, because he has no idea what Misha is going to say and he hates that. Almost as much as he loves it.

“I had fun,” Misha tells him.

“Yeah. Me too. But I don’t just mean for tonight. I mean… thanks for pretty much forcing me to ask you out in the first place. For not giving up just because I was more interested in pompoms than in giving you a shot.”

“I have pompoms,” Misha smiles. “But I’m saving them for a special occasion.”

Jensen laughs sharply and then reaches out, pulls him close to him with one hand on his shoulder, the other on the back of his neck and he kisses him.

It starts out soft, dry, just lips on lips and then Misha whimpers a little and steps closer and opens his mouth. Jensen follows Misha’s lead and slides his tongue past Misha’s lips, across his tongue and he licks the roof of Misha’s mouth once. He pauses so they can both take a breath and then they come back together, lips pressing slow and lazy against each other as his hands tighten in Misha’s hair.

Jensen doesn’t have a lot of experience, but he’s done this a few times before. And it’s really never felt like this, never got his heart pumping quite so fast or got his dick so hard so quickly. Never made his chest feel light or made him never ever want to let go.

He knows he has to let go though, so he presses one last, soft kiss to Misha’s lips and steps back, breathing heavily as he wipes the corner of Misha’s mouth with his tongue.

“Wow,” he says and wants to punch himself in the mouth so he shuts up. Way to be the exact opposite of cool, asshat.

“Indeed,” Misha agrees and Jensen feels a little better. Not much, but a little.

His nerves must be more obvious than he realised because Misha puts both his hands on Jensen’s upper arms and rubs up and down soothingly as he says, “Hey, Jensen, listen. I know you were a little worried. About today. That you wouldn’t do well, or you’d make a fool of yourself or something.”

“Great,” Jensen snorts. He really can’t deny it. “That’s great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“But you don’t need to be worried,” Misha continues. “You did great. You were very impressive tonight.”

“Are you making fun of me?” Jensen asks, narrowing his eyes. He doesn’t need to be made fun of, here. Sure he was kind of on the lame side in a few places tonight, what with not doing a single thing that Misha actually likes, but Misha doesn’t need to rub it in. Jensen tried, is the thing. He really, actually tried.

“No,” Misha shakes his head. “I’m really not. You’re adorable, even when you don’t mean to be, but before you get angry about that, you should know. This was honestly was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

“It’s uh… the only date I’ve ever been on,” Jensen admits, feeling even stupider than he did at the start of the date. Misha, thankfully, doesn’t comment on that. Jensen’s starting to like him more and more.

“I’m going to tell you something right now,” Misha says, pressing his hand to Jensen’s, palms together and he threads their fingers. “And I don’t want you to freak out.”

“Um…” Jensen’s not quite sure what to expect. That’s okay though, because Misha goes on, doesn’t wait for a response and doesn’t seem be the least bit self-conscious.

“I’m going to fall in love with you.”

“You are?” Jensen asks, somewhat sceptical, because those are some pretty heavy words for a first date. Also, he’s not sure he wants to hear that anybody is, or is planning on being, in love with him. He’s fifteen years old, for fuck’s sake. Love is… for when you’re grown up, when you’re a doctor, or a garbage collector and you’re picking out china patterns to match the babies you’re having.

Jensen’s nowhere near ready for love yet.

“I am. And it’s going to be so easy. And I’m going to make you love me back.”

“You think so?” It’s a challenge this time, Jensen smiles while he asks, because Misha has to be kidding, just messing around and being all romantic or some shit because their date went so well.

Only Misha stops smiling then, gets this totally serious look on his face and stares right into Jensen’s eyes, like he means it.

“I do,” he says. “Thank you for tonight, Jensen.”

And then Misha kisses him one last time before he walks up the steps to his front door and goes inside.

Even though it’s not what Misha wanted, Jensen is a little freaked out. Mostly because he thinks Misha might be right.

***

The first time Jensen watches Cool Hand Luke is on a Thursday night in early December and he spends more time concentrating on Misha’s tongue in his mouth than he does on the movie.

Misha’s parents are out for the night and he invited Jensen over with the promise of action movies and pizza. It’s their third date (fourth if he counts the time last week when they both skipped class to make out in the third floor boy’s room) and Jensen’s parents have started asking him if it’s ‘serious’.

He came out to them by force, when his old gym teacher caught him and Matt in the locker room and called their parents, and they were pretty cool about it. But Misha is the first person he’s dated at all since then, let alone dated three times, and they’ve been asking to meet him.

He’ll bring Misha by soon, maybe when he figures out how to answer his parents question about how serious it is.

For now though, he’s not worrying about that. He’s full, comfortable, happy on the couch in Misha’s basement with Misha splayed out on top of him and he’s honestly not thinking any further into their future than how awesome it would be if Misha moved his hips a little to the left and sucked a bit harder at the hollow of Jensen’s throat.

He doesn’t do either, but that’s okay because it’s all really, really good.

Misha moves slightly after a while, sandwiches himself between Jensen and the back of the couch so that Jensen’s body is open, free to his touch. Misha takes advantage as he kisses along Jensen’s jaw, easy, butterfly kisses until he reaches Jensen’s mouth and then he turns into some kind of porn star.

He attacks Jensen’s mouth, his tongue snaking out, pushing past Jensen’s lips and inside, gliding over Jensen’s teeth as his hand works up under Jensen’s shirt, tracing soft patterns on the skin of his stomach.

Jensen groans, his stomach clenches and relaxes which only seems to make Misha moan louder into his mouth in approval and Jensen’s hands cup the back of Misha’s head and neck, hold him in place while he licks into his mouth.

They’re at it for long enough that Jensen’s tried and failed to hide his erection a few times – angling his hips away or adjusting his pants – before Misha’s hand slowly starts to lower. The tips of his fingers curl under the waistband of Jensen’s jeans, then they slip further, brush the head of Jensen’s hard cock over the thin cotton of his boxers.

Jensen’s cock jerks and he sucks in a breath, panics and lets go of Misha’s neck to cover Misha’s wrist so it can’t keep going. Misha freezes and then pulls back so fast it’s like he’s been burned, and he looks down into Jensen’s eyes.

“You okay?” he asks, breathy and little squeaky.

“Yeah,” Jensen answers and hey, what do you know? He’s sounding a little squeaky himself. “I Just…”

He’s just nervous. Scared as fuck, really, because he’s never done this before. Misha has, he’s sure, because Misha’s been so good at everything, knows just how to touch Jensen to make him crazy and Jensen doesn’t want to be bad at it. Plus, Jensen isn’t actually ready to take this further, despite what his hormones are telling him.

Misha’s older, he’s probably had lots of sex and Jensen’s heard his older brother talking with his friends. He knows guys can be jerks and they sometimes dump people for not putting out, but Jensen doesn’t actually care. He wants to wait and if that’s a deal breaker for Misha, he’d rather know now.

“Just what?” Misha asks, frowning. “Seriously, Jensen. If I do something you don’t like, I want you to tell me.”

“No,” Jensen corrects with a shake of his head. “No, I liked it. I really liked it. I just. I’m not ready for more than this right now.”

Misha looks at him, brows furrowed like he’s trying to crack some code.

“I’m not ready to have sex with you right now either, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Okay,” Jensen says, stupidly. “Awesome. But uh… I’m not even really thinking about pre-sex yet. The kissing and stuff is good, but that’s all I want right now. Just… so you know. So you don’t expect anything.”

“Are you a virgin?” Misha asks after a beat, and the question is honest, curious, holds no judgment at all.

Still, Jensen narrows his eyes and jerks back, snaps “no!” much too quickly even though it’s a lie. He doesn’t know what makes him say it. Maybe he just wants to look as cool as Misha obviously is.

“Huh,” Misha says with an almost shrug, like Jensen’s answer doesn’t really matter. “I am.”

“…What?”

“And even if I wasn’t, I’d never pressure you.”

“You’re what?” Jensen asks again, shaking his head stupidly.

“A virgin. Does that surprise you?”

“Well, yeah,” Jensen admits, even as he feels like ten kinds of idiot for it. He’s kind of a dick for just assuming Misha’s gotten around and he’s an even bigger dick for assuming that’s what he wants Jensen for. “You’re very… confident.”

Misha smiles then, a smile that’s a cross between amused and delighted.

“My first boyfriend was two years ago,” Misha tells him, settling in over top of Jensen again, slipping his hand around Jensen’s back and getting comfortable, as if he’s getting ready to tell a long, bedtime story. “We dated for over a year. Traded a few blowjobs. Okay, more than a few,” he adds with a grin and Jensen joins him.

“Since then?” Jensen asks quietly. He’s not sure why he cares, but it’s nice to hear Misha talking about something personal. They’ve been casual so far, keeping each other at somewhat of a distance and Jensen’s looking forward to breaking those barriers. Slowly.

“I went out with a boy in the chess club a few times. He jerked me off twice in the front seat of my car,” Misha answers flatly, like that memory isn’t quite as fond as his first boyfriend. Jensen hopes that someday down the road, Misha remembers him like he does the first guy.

“And that’s it?”

“Yep,” Misha says, nuzzles into Jensen’s neck and presses a sucking kiss to his pulse point.

“You’re a virgin?”

“Yep.”

It’s a few minutes of silence between them, Paul Newman blowing shit up in the background, before Jensen says quietly, “me too.”

Misha squeezes him a little bit tighter, but doesn’t say anything until the movie is over and he walks Jensen to the door.

“Ken’s having a party next Saturday,” Misha says, after they’ve spent a good five minutes kissing each other goodbye.

“Ken’s a dick,” Jensen says, frowning. Misha knows Ken’s a dick, so why the hell would he be talking to Jensen about him having a party?

“Yeah,” Misha agrees, screwing up his face like it’s common knowledge and Jensen’s an idiot for pointing that out. “He is. But he throws one hell of a party.”

“That’s nice, I guess.” Jensen still doesn’t get why Misha’s telling him this.

“I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt here, and just assume that being around me reduces your brain function because I’m so devastatingly beautiful,” Misha says, smiling and pulling Jensen close, kissing him one more time.

“Dude, I can stop the making out, you know,” Jensen says, scowling and pushing Misha away with a hand on his chest. The fact that Misha leans in and kisses him again, and Jensen lets him, proves to them both that he’s full of shit, but still. He doesn’t need to be insulted here.

“Everyone’s going to be there,” Misha tells him, when he lets him go. “Everyone is always there, whether they like Ken or not.”

“Yeah. Okay, either start making sense or kiss me again, so I can get the hell out of here.”

“Everyone will be there,” Misha says again. “And I want you to be there. With me. If you want to.”

Jensen processes that for a while. Apparently he’s quiet for a little too long, because Misha sighs in frustration and his thumb works nervously over the fray on his jeans pocket.

“Look, if you want to keep this quiet…” he starts, but that’s as far as he gets before Jensen backs him into the doorframe and kisses him quiet. Jensen’s not exactly one to advertise anything about his personal life, but the last thing he wants is for Misha to think he’s ashamed of being with him.

“Yes,” he says. “I’ll be there.”

Misha smiles and grips his hip, pushes so Jensen staggers back and turns him around so that he’s heading down the walkway. Jensen laughs, gets halfway to the sidewalk before Misha calls out.

“I’m still planning on falling in love with you,” he says, maybe a little too loudly.

Jensen pauses, smiles so wide his face hurts and keeps on walking.

***

The first time Jensen gets a blow job is on a rainy Tuesday afternoon, two days after his sixteenth birthday.

He’s just aced a history test and he’s laughing as he talks with Julie about what they answered on the essay section when Misha comes to find him by his locker after class and invites him over for supper. With his parents. It’ll be the first time.

He’s about to say ‘no’, because he’s supposed to go Julie’s house to study, but she catches his eye and smiles.

“No worries,” she says. “Travis and AJ are coming, so I’m betting we’ll spend more time in front of the television than the books, anyway. Go. Have fun.”

“Are you sure?” Jensen frowns. Now that he’s finally made some good friends here he doesn’t want to start flaking out on them just to hang out with his boyfriend. Maybe boyfriend. They still haven’t actually talked about that yet.

“I’m sure,” she says, nodding and giving Jensen a slight shoulder bump to nudge him closer to Misha. “You can buy me dinner tomorrow to make up for it.”

Jensen laughs and takes Misha’s hand. “You got it.”

Julie leans over to kiss his cheek before she saunters off and Jensen quickly looks himself up and down to make sure there are no rips or stains on his clothes. It’s not a huge deal, he knows that, but he doesn’t want to look like a hobo when he meets the folks, because he plans on being with Misha for a damn long time and he wants to make a good first impression.

He shrugs and figures he doesn’t look like too much of a deviant so he turns to Misha and says, “Lead the way.”

Misha does and Jensen thinks as they walk, keeping Misha’s hand the whole seven blocks and nudging his hip, his shoulder whenever he feels like it. He never wanted to move to Cicero in the first place, but right now he’s pretty glad he did. And only some of that is down to Misha.

He’s made some pretty good friends since he’s moved here, he’s joined the football team (he’s only second string but he’s still got a uniform that Misha’s always begging him to wear), he’s got a part time job two days a week after school at the video store so he gets to borrow movies for free and his classes are surprisingly cool.

And the fact that he’s got a pretty steady Friday night date and someone to make out with in the hallways in between classes sort of rounds everything out nicely, as far as Jensen’s concerned. High school in Illinois could actually turn out to be pretty awesome.

“You okay?” Jensen hears Misha ask and it’s only after he’s sitting on the couch in Misha’s basement that he even realises he’s sort of zoned out for the entire walk.

“Yeah, mostly,” he answers, feels warm and relaxed when Misha sits down next to him and leans in close. “I want your parents to like me.”

“How could they not?” Misha asks as he sits up straight and takes Jensen’s face in his hands. “I’m serious, Jensen. How could they possibly not?”

Jensen just shrugs in response, because honestly he doesn’t even know. Or, he doesn’t know how to voice it. Misha gets straight As and he’s going off to college in the fall and he volunteers at the homeless shelter and he’s well spoken and he watches CNN.

Jensen’s more athletic than intellectual and he’ll be stuck in high school for two years after Misha moves on and he spends his free time watching Italian soap operas and cracking dirty jokes with his friends. Not that Misha doesn’t have a raunchy side, but he has a feeling he doesn’t let it out at the supper table.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Misha says, “stop it. This isn’t an inquisition. They’ll like you, because you’re a likable person. And even if they don’t, they’ll pretend to, because they know I like you.”

Misha smiles to let Jensen know he’s joking and Jensen rolls his eyes at himself for being such a pussy about this. Misha’s right. They’re just dating, not getting married, so Misha’s parents probably won’t care one way or the other about what they probably think is some random high school fling. And Jensen knows how to be likable, when he wants to be, so it’ll be fine, he knows that. He’s just being paranoid.

It was fine last week when Misha met his parents. It was more than fine, really, because they’d been asking to meet him since their first date back in October and now that they have, Misha has an open invitation to the Ackles’ house and Jensen is allowed to stay out until eleven when they’re on a date. Which is all kinds of cool, considering six days ago Jensen’s curfew was ten o’clock.

His parents love Misha. Plus, Jensen promised his mom that they’re not having sex and he doesn’t plan on it any time soon, so that helped.

“Wanna play some Madden?” Jensen asks after he looks at the clock and realises that it’s only quarter past three and Misha’s parents won’t be home for another two hours.

“Nah,” Misha says, picking up the remote and turning on the television. “I think there’s an old Baywatch on.”

“You don’t like Baywatch,” Jensen points out. “Too many boobs. I don’t like it either.”

Misha’s eyes crinkle at the corners and he leans in, presses his mouth to Jensen’s ear.

“Exactly.”

Jensen’s man enough to admit that he whimpers a little and five minutes later Misha has him pinned to the couch with his hands on Jensen’s spread knees and he’s kneeling on the floor between Jensen’s legs.

It starts out as a hand job. It’s new in the way that his pants are open and his cock is standing tall and proud from the V of his legs while Misha’s fingers rub over it, but he’s had a hand on his dick before. Misha’s stuck his hand down his pants, brushed his fingers over Jensen’s tip, palmed it while he tickled down the shaft, but it was while they were pressed together, face to face and Misha’s never actually seen it before.

He’s also rubbed his crotch up against Misha’s a couple of times before this. Once he thinks he made Misha come in his pants, but he was too shy to ask. So what Misha’s doing right now is definitely new.

He’s not aggressive about it, not by a long shot. He’s tentative, kissing Jensen’s hip or the inside of his thigh through his pants with each slight movement of his hand and he doesn’t go further until Jensen nods down at him, silent permission and Misha wraps a tight fist around him and starts pumping.

It’s not until Misha presses his elbows to the insides of Jensen’s thighs and pries them apart even further, that he finally speaks.

“I want to suck you,” Misha tells him, and Jensen has to blink because the tone of his voice doesn’t match up at all with his request. Jensen doesn’t know how to answer, doesn’t want to have to because whatever he says he’s pretty sure he’ll sound like an idiot. He does want Misha to suck him down, though. He’s this far in and it feels fucking fantastic and it’s a little soon, sure, but he doesn’t want to stop.

“Okay,” Jensen says, after a loud swallow.

“Are you sure?” Misha asks, sensing Jensen’s apprehension and sitting back on his heels. “Because I can wait, Jensen. I’m not in a hurry and I don’t want to rush you.”

“I appreciate that,” Jensen says with a tight smile. “But if you stop right now, I’m gonna break up with you.”

“Does that mean we’re boyfriends?” Misha asks, lips curving up in a slow grin.

“Blow me and I’ll fucking marry you,” Jensen tells him and Misha laughs.

“I’m not that easy,” he says, and swallows Jensen down.

It’s pretty much the best thing he’s ever felt, warmth and wetness and tightness in a way that his own hand can’t possibly manage. Misha sucks and licks and swallows and Jensen can barely sit still, cries out at the pleasure and his hands ball up into fists on his thighs, work their way into Misha’s hair when the sucking gets harder, more intense.

“Holy…” he pants out, jerks his hips forward and squeezes the back of Misha’s neck. “Misha. Babe. I’m gonna…”

Misha stills for a moment and looks up at him, locks his eyes on Jensen’s with his mouth open wide and full of Jensen’s cock, swallows hard and that’s it. Jensen screams, empties himself down Misha’s throat. He’s pretty sure he blacks out after, because the next thing he knows Misha is kissing his mouth and fastening his pants.

He cups Jensen’s cheek when he’s done and presses their foreheads together.

“Come on,” Misha says, tugging at Jensen’s hand. “My mom will be home soon and we’ll make a better impression if we’re already started on the salad instead of making out on the couch when she gets here.”

“But…” Jensen protests, eyes darting down to Misha’s crotch. It’s not like he’s in a hurry to suck him off, but Jensen doesn’t want to be a cock tease. Misha did it, Jensen can do it.

“No,” Misha says with a kiss. “I didn’t do this for reciprocation.”

“I know,” Jensen tells him, because he does know. Nothing about what Misha just did for him held even the faintest hint of selfish motivations. “Still…”

“Soon. I promise.”

Jensen hesitates, then nods and takes Misha’s hand, following him upstairs.

Misha’s parents are nice. They grill him a little over dinner, ask about his studies, his family his extra-curriculars. They even go so far as to ask his intentions towards Misha, but they’re almost laughing when they do and Misha hisses at them to shut up while Jensen smiles politely and just says that he likes Misha very much.

Overall it’s a good evening and when Jensen heads home Misha kisses him goodbye so hard and so long that Jensen needs to jerk off before he falls asleep that night.

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