Actions

Work Header

What's the Price for your Skepticism?

Work Text:

He hadn’t exactly wanted to come.

That made him sound like he was forced to come here – which he had been – and wanted out as soon as possible. That… was true… until he took his first hit.

“I don’t feel anything,” Jensen stated firmly. He was standing uneasily to the side, but most of everyone’s attention was still on him. Beside him, Misha was staring at him with hesitant eyes, but his mouth was already stretching out to a large, gummy grin.

“Uh huh,” he said appeasingly. Jensen narrowed his eyes at his supposedly best friend – and yes, the one who dragged him here in the first place. They all knew he would have been studying away most of the night instead of spending time with most of the university’s population, it would seem, getting high at a party.

Personally, Jensen would have been perfectly content to do that too.

But that was ten minutes ago. And now, Jensen stood smack in the center of the room, staring at everyone in awe.

“Am I high?” He asked, only distantly noticing how high his voice went. He was too busy looking around, taking in his surroundings as if for the first time. Abruptly, Jensen felt like he was being slammed by a wall, and he straightened. “Holy shit, am I high?” He repeated. His voice went as high as his eyebrows, and his lips were pulling into a smile without his permission.

Jensen giggled. “Fuck–” the wall, something he couldn’t see but sure as hell could feel, was slamming into him again. He straightened, unaware of when he’d been slumping in the first place. “Holy shit, am I high?”

The room erupted into laughter. Misha was slouched over a sofa, keeping his eyes on Jensen while hanging off the furniture upside down. Jensen slowly spun around in a circle, arms thrown out to help him keep balance.

Was Jensen swaying, or did the building’s floor just go from flat to hill?

Jensen blinked, except his eyes were still closed, and it took him too long to force them back open. “Holy shit, Mish, am I high?” Misha snorted. His hand fumbled around the sofa, and a couple of fails after, he managed to get his phone and aim it at Jensen.

“Hello everyone,” Misha said, presumably to his phone. “Meet my friend, Jensen–”

“Holy shit.”

“–This is Jensen’s first time getting high–”

“Am I high?” Jensen practically near screamed at this point, but he was laughing, giggling, unable to stop himself from joining the rest of the crowd. Whatever else Misha was saying into his phone disappeared amidst the rest of the noise, and Jensen let himself flop down onto the floor, sprawling out as he stared at the ceiling.

“Holy shit.” He repeated to himself.


 

“Mish. Misha. Mish. Mishaaaaaaaaa.” Jensen practically sang, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fruitlessly tugged at his friend’s shirt. Misha’s sweater slipped off his shoulder, but Jensen did manage to drag most of Misha’s torso off the sofa.

Misha practically melted, molding himself to the floor as he groaned. Through distorted eyes, Jensen stared at him with no small amounts of wonder. “How are you not… human origami? You’re like, so… part of the sofa. And the floor. Holy shit.” Jensen swallowed, swaying. Shaking his head, he focused on his friend again. “I wanna go home. Are you coming or… or?” Jensen stared at the ceiling, watching it float for a bit. Entranced with the way it seemed to bend in waves, Jensen blinked before he was slammed back into himself. “Holy shit. Mish I wanna go home. Are you coming or… doIgottagobymyself?” He forced the words out in a rush, desperate to get it all out before he got distracted again. But for all his efforts, Misha only deigned to stare at him with a single baleful eye.

“You’re too high. Go sleep it off somewhere ‘round here, Jens.” His sweater finally giving into gravity and falling on Misha’s face effectively blocked out the rest of his words from reaching Jensen’s ears, and with his face hidden from view, he pretty much disappeared from Jensen’s memory as well.

Blowing raspberries to himself, Jensen lazily walked around a bit, trying to get his head on straight. He was fairly certain he was getting slammed by that weird wall every few seconds, but his memory must have blacked out or something, because the next thing he knew, Jensen was standing outside the frat building, the cool air smacking some sense into his head.  

“I should go inside,” Jensen mumbled to himself. His eyes were on the road that would take him home, like Dorothy if she followed the yellow brick road, but he wasn’t wearing red high heels – no, wait, was it flats or whatever? – but he was swaying. Right. Jensen was swaying. Because he was high. And so he probably shouldn’t be outside.

He vaguely wondered what the time was.

“Yeah, you probably should go back inside.” An amused came out of nowhere, and instantly, Jensen’s heart rate skyrocketed.

“HOLY SHIT.” Whirling around with his fist pressed to his chest, Jensen stared wide eyed, heart still thumping hard against his chest as he frantically searched for the owner of the voice.

Unless he was hallucinating. Oh god. Was Jensen hallucinating?

The answer came when he spun around too fast and lost his footing. He would have fallen flat on his back had it not been for the strong hand that latched on tightly to Jensen’s arm, holding him tight until Jensen was able to gather his feet back under him. He had feet. Huh. That was weird. Feet were weird.

Talking about feet… there was currently a hand connected to his arm. A hand that was not his. It was way too big. Like. Very big.

An amused huff of laughter prodded Jensen into following the hand up to its owner. It was a long way up.

“Yeah, that’s my hand, Jensen. Jensen, right?”

Jensen blinked. Was he… looking into a human puppy? Those eyes… were too soft… cute. For a human.

But this… creature in front of him was a big. Extra large sized human.

Moose, Jensen’s brain helpfully supplied.

The moose snorted again, and Jensen blinked. “Holy shit. Holy–holy. Yes. I’m Jensen. You’re not. Me, I mean. You’re not Jensen, which is me, so you’re not the me that is Jensen. Holy shit.” Jensen leaned back, but when the moose – puppy? – tugged again, he found momentum carrying him the other way around.

His cheek landed on something soft, and Jensen could have started drooling. Whatever he was feeling was definitely not… unlikeable. Undesirable? Repulsive.

More terms rushed to his brain, but Jensen was too busy trying to push himself upright, because, oh yeah – “English final!”

“Wha–” the wall spoke, sounding vaguely strained, before redirecting itself. Jensen’s head tilted to the side, dragged down like extra water weight was up there. A finger carefully poked the side of his head until it was sitting properly between his shoulders again. “Yeah, I’m Jared. Not Jensen, or you, or Jensen you,” the voice said, amused. Oh, yeah. It was coming from up high, so Jensen craned his head back – but he must have leaned back a little too much, because all he could see now was hair. Purple – no. Wait. Brown hair. Soft. Puppies.

He really wanted to run his hands through that hair. It looked so fluffy…

“I’m going to take you home… does that sound okay, Jensen?”

Alarm bells went off. “No. That. That doesn’t sound okay. I don’t know you. I mean. I think I don’t know you. I know your name, so I know who you are, but I don’t know you.” Jensen blabbed, staring at the shirt. Or the pec muscles. They were very prominent, the shirt certainly wasn’t on for modesty. “You can’t be safe. You could be not safe. Unsafe. You could be dangerous. Oh my god, what if you hurt me?” His eyes started to water, surprising Jensen just as much as it must have surprised Jared apparently, because suddenly the hand on his arm rose to his bicep.

Jensen wondered how he could’ve forgotten such a wonderful hot piece of flesh was still connected to him until he remembered again.

The sci-fi wall in his mind slammed into him again, and this time he physically took a step forward and right into Jared’s chest. He didn’t bother moving away. “You’re at the frat house. You’re not high though. Are you at the frat house then?” Jensen tilted his head up, resting his chin on some strong muscles he couldn’t really remember the term for, to look into puppy dog hazel eyes. “Because you’re not high. You have to be high to be – hi,” Jensen giggled, eyes closing as he let himself face plant Jared’s chest again. “You have to be high to be here. Hi.” He snorted again, his jaw going lax. He was quite possibly drooling at this point. Should he care? He was supposed to care if he was drooling, right?

“Oh. Wow. Okay.” Jared sounded strained again, and Jensen decided he didn’t like it. It sounded wrong… off. Weird? For a guy he just met, Jensen knew that Jared never should have to sound that way. Something told him that Jared was a man to be unrestrained, left bounding over hills and sprawling and taking up space…

Too soon, a very different picture started to paint itself in Jensen’s head. He blushed.

“I’m gonna take you home. I swear, nowhere else. It’s just, I figure you’d rather be at home than risk getting dicks drawn on your face or them recording stupid shit of you that you might regret later.” Jared started saying. He was already moving, carefully guiding Jensen until he was propped against Jared’s side. Jared was still supporting most of him, but Jensen eventually managed to kickstart his bran into figuring out how to make his limbs coordinate. It took a bit, but he was able to at least start walking by himself.

He had no idea where he was going though, and the dark wasn’t helping. So he really hoped he wasn’t risking his life trusting Jared here.

“Oh, god. No, you don’t have to worry. I mean, that probably sounds shady, coming from me, but like. I know what it’s like to be with those guys, and you know. Or. Well, you don’t know, and I don’t think you’d want to know. So…”

Jensen stared, coming to an abrupt halt as he stared at Jared. Jared froze as well, looking back uncertainly at Jensen. He didn’t say anything, waiting for Jensen to voice whatever had just popped in his head this time.

“You’re cute.” Jensen said decisively. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, or if it was because he was high – and holy mother of god was Jensen high – but he thought he might’ve seen Jared blush at that. Maybe. “Why’re you talking so much? Are you high? I’m high. Are you?”

Jared was most definitely blushing now, but he also wasn’t meeting Jensen’s eyes. Jensen didn’t like that. He wanted Jared to stare at him like he was the only thing in the world, it made him feel all warm and gooey inside. Oh no, he wasn’t starting to melt, was he? That would be a bitch to clean for whoever was tasked with cleaning the pavements.

“Sorry,” Jared mumbled. “I just, talk a lot. I guess. When I’m nervous–”

Jensen pushed himself forward, falling into Jared’s surprised but ready arms. “No, no, nonononononono. I like it. Keep talking. I want a bed. You’re big and soft. Can I sleep on you?”

The… something. Human? Under him, had been soft. Now it was all stiff and… like a stone. Jensen drooled at the thought of someone being so strong and hard as rock. Stone?

He wasn’t too high and out of it to know what else had to be like a very nice, hard, rock. And that, he wanted to ride.

“Oh, Jesus,” a whimper that Jensen barely heard, but he managed to hear it alright. He was so surprised and caught up with congratulating himself on his sneaky ear skills that he didn’t realize he was moving again, until another wall was slamming him out of nowhere – and now he was in his dorm room. With a moose sized puppy standing awkwardly beside him.

“Hi.” Jensen regarded with no small amounts of confusion at the brick human. “What’re you doing here?”

“Uh…” the person looked around, dragging a hand through his hair. The long, fluffiness of it kicked something in Jensen’s memory, and he scrambled to latch onto the thought while the man kept talking. “Well. I came here to drop you off, but now you’re not letting go of me.” He looked down at his shirt, Jensen following the movement. And sure enough, Jensen’s hand was gripping the human puppy’s shirt sleeve so tight, if Jensen strained his eyes he could tell the shirt was about to rip.

Maybe. Wasn’t the guy wearing a t-shirt?

Jared. Right. The puppy’s name was Jared. And Jared was soft. And rock hard. And solid. And made Jensen feel all warm inside and out.

“Right. Bed.” Without letting go, Jensen toed off his shoes, leading Jared to his bed.

“Woah, woah, wait, what?” Jared exclaimed, tripping over Jensen’s discarded shoes but still keeping up – at least, until Jensen got in bed. Then it was like Jensen really was trying to pull on a brick wall, for all the good his tugging did, Jared still stood there like a statue.

A very pretty statue though. Make Michaelangelo go ooooohhhhh.

“Sleep. With. Me.” Jensen conveyed as if talking to a five year old. Seriously. Hadn’t he already told Jared how soft he was and how absolutely necessary it was for them to now sleep together?

Jared was red. Very red. Was it normal for people to be this red? Did Jensen need to get a thermometer or a bucket of water – maybe dousing Jared in water would wash all that red away.

“Uh. Jensen. I don’t think–” he barely started to get the words out before Jensen had already registered enough. His grip on Jared’s sleeve loosened, even as the tears started to fall from his eyes.

“Okay.” Jensen said into his pillow. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you. You were probably busy and I bother you, don’t I? I’m sorry.” Jensen sniffled.

There was silence, so long that Jensen started to doze off, flinching every time he was hit with the wall again. Was it wearing off, or getting faster? Could it get faster – was it supposed to get faster?

Someone sighed, and then there was the shuffling of clothes. Jensen froze. Was there someone in the room with him?

But then the bed started to shift, and Jensen didn’t even dare to breathe, heart pounding, eyes wide as he was sure, any second now –

“God, this is so bad.”

Wait. Jensen knew that voice.

Like a light bulb erupting into confetti in his head, Jensen rolled over, and promptly proceeded to roll right on top of the human puppy.

Yes. Just like he imagined. It was just as soft but also just as hard in the right places, like he needed it to be. But that elbow – Jensen shuffled around a little more, not registering any of the pained wheezes or grunts until he was settled again.

“Thank you, I love you. Good night.” He mumbled to his bed. A few more walls hit him, drowning out the rest of Jensen’s senses, before he was asleep.


 

Jensen woke up hungry. And with a headache. And in his bedroom, under the covers, his joints feeling weird in ways that didn’t make sense.

“Oh my god,” Jensen groaned. His roommate didn’t even shift – actually, Jensen wasn’t entirely sure if his roommate had even come back from the same party last night. He needed to get up to check. But first, Jensen was still too busy drowning in shame and embarrassment as the previous evening’s memories came flooding back.

“Oh my god,” he repeated quieter. He was tempted to just pull the covers back up over his head and hide away from the world, at least for another day, sleeping it off. But the crumpling of paper right by his ear had Jensen pausing. Slowly pushing himself up as much as he had to to be able to retrieve the slip of paper from where it had fallen under his shoulder, Jensen struggled to bring his vision back into focus enough to be able to read the writing on it.

I don’t know if you’re still going to want to meet up once you’re sober, but you had some really nice things to say when you were high. Not that I’d hold it against you, but if you maybe thought this could actually go somewhere…

1(866)907-3235

Call me? Or text, whatever. Either is fine

Jared xoxo

(The ‘puppy moose hybrid’ who helped you to your dorm last night)

Jensen stared. Blinked. Reread the note again, even as he felt the furious heat crawling up his cheeks.

By the third time he read it, Jensen couldn’t take looking at it anymore. So he buried his face into his pillow, and gave into the urge of pulling the blankets up so that he was completely hidden under it.

The paper, however, remained unscathed by his head. Jensen eventually forced himself to open his eyes and look at it again.

He didn’t need to see it by now to recall what was written on it, but he did so anyway, bringing the paper to his face.

The sign… It was admittedly forward, but not like it could have exceeded what Jensen did the previous night. Although, looking at those specific letters did make Jensen feel like he was remembering the slight press of lips against his forehead when he was asleep. Far too recently for it to have been his mom, and definitely not as chaste either.

Not that it wasn’t chaste. But like it held the promise for more.

Cheeks that he was sure were permanently stained red by now, Jensen reached for his cellphone.