#grace asks

Jared is in hell. And has been since Jensen smiled at him, cheeks flushed from the shots Chris has been feeding him, and yelled, "Dance with me, Jared!" over the throbbing beat. Jensen's hips moving against his, slow and dirty, as Jared thinks about his ugly old philosophy professor in the hopes it'll kill any interest his dick is taking in the action.

It works until Jensen pulls him even closer, hot breath on his neck, body moving against Jared's in a sinuous slide. He closes his eyes, reminds himself Jensen is his friend. His very-much-not-gay best friend and roommate who sometimes gets a little too friendly when he drinks. But, oh fuck, Jensen doesn't feel like a friend when he turns in Jared's arms, grinding his ass against Jared's dick...

Jared doesn't even make a conscious decision to get the fuck out of there. All he knows is one moment he's in the middle of the crush of bodies, trying not to fuck his best friend right then and there. The next he's in the alley behind the club, the cold of an early spring night cooling his face. He takes greedy gulps of frigid air and frantically begs his dick to go down.

There's a sudden, sharp burst of noise as the door behind him opens then closes. He begs any deity listening to let it be some stranger coming out for a smoke.

"Jay?"

Fuck.

He closes his eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Are you okay?" Jensen's voice comes in close, too close, and Jared's self-control frays even more.

"Of course I'm not okay. You try keeping it together when the hottest and straightest guy in the world is grinding on your dick." The moment his mouth catches up with his brain, Jared considers walking into traffic. Or maybe he can just crawl into one of the many dumpsters lining the alley and never come out ever again. He cringes in the silence and waits for Jensen to yell at him or throw a punch or worse.

"You think I'm straight?"

"Uh..."

The gentle press of warm, strong hands on his face makes him jump and screw his eyes shut even tighter.

"Jared, look at me."

"I'm sorry, Jensen. I just need a minute. To remind myself we're friends and that's-"

“If you lie to me one more time,” reader’s hands clench down at their sides as they stare into [insert turtle]’s eyes. “I’m gone.” They pause and as the memories of being hurt from the past resurface they add, “You will never see me again.”

“But if you tell me the truth,” their voice softens if only slightly. Because even with all the signs to run for the hills, to distrust, reader can’t help but hope. “no matter what it is..” reader’s words hang in silence as [insert turtle] starts to shake his hanging head. He had long given up the staring contest, opting for the ground instead.

As seconds passed, [insert turtle] keeps shifting, looking absolutely conflicted. Reader doesn’t know what to think, “Just say it!” they encourage as [insert turtle] breathes out a sigh, stilling.

Uhmmmmm then a confession!~ I’ll put more thought into the plot later but the main dilemma for me right now is which turtle fits best?!?

any thoughts??? all commentary is welcome & greatly appreciated, though please note this is a side blog so my responses/replies in comments will come from @xxxxgracie (my main)