Chapter Tags: angst, taboo relationship, teasing, flirting, kissing, sex implied, mentions of sex
Chapter WC: ± 2.7K
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Your POV
When you arrived the night before, Jensen had told you to make yourself at home, so that’s exactly what you do when you get up. You head downstairs, making your way to the kitchen to find not much has changed. Jensen still keeps the coffee above the machine, he still keeps his mugs in the cupboard next to it, and he still keeps sugar and creamer in canisters to the side. As you open the cupboard door you come face to face with a navy mug, flowers printed on the side with “Love” in calligraphy scrawled across it. A smile automatically pulls at your lips as you stare at it. You remember buying that mug to keep at Jensen’s place because it was prettier than his other ones. You’d tried to not make a big deal out of it, telling him that his other mugs were gross and you needed something nicer, but you can’t forget how good it made you feel to keep something of yours at his place.
You reach for it, inspecting it a little closer. He kept it. After all this time he still has it. You put it back in its place, your eyes falling on the mug beside it, one with “Best Uncle Ever” printed on it. You can’t help but laugh at the memory of when you bought it, just to annoy him.
You’re careful as you climb the stairs with the tray in hand, watching both mugs of coffee balanced on top, making sure neither spills. You kick the bedroom door open, the room considerably darker than the rest of the house, and place the tray down on the dresser, moving to the window to open the curtains and let some light in. Jensen groans at the sudden sunshine and buries his face deeper into his pillow. You can’t help but laugh, heading back over to the dresser to retrieve the coffees off of the tray. You’re careful as you climb onto the bed, back into your side, placing your mug down on your night stand, and Jensen finally relents, rolling onto his back and sitting up, his eyes still squinted.
“What time is it?” he groans, his voice deeper and more gritty than normal.
“Almost ten,” you tell him, handing him his coffee.
“Thanks,” he replies, taking the mug and then taking a sip. He stops, pulling the mug away and holding it in front of him. “What’s this?”
“Just a little something,” you shrug nonchalantly, biting back the giggle.
“Best uncle ever?” he presses, looking over at you and cocking an eyebrow. “Oh you think you’re funny, huh, sweetheart?”
“I’m hilarious, Uncle Jensen,” you tease, biting your bottom lip. “Hey, at least it doesn’t say Dad.”
Jensen scoffs, placing the mug down on his nightstand and then rubs his eyes.
“You never call me Uncle Jensen unless you’re teasing me,” he challenges, making you chuckle even more. “Anyway, given how we spent the night last night, I think we should drop the Uncle now.”
“Why? You’re the best uncle in the world,” you continue to taunt. You move to straddle his lap, bringing your mouth into the crook of his neck, dragging your tongue up it. “My favourite uncle, actually,” you purr against his ear.
You start to grind your ass down into his crotch, making him hum softly.
“If you don’t like your gift I can take it back,” you tell him, starting to bite softly on his neck.
“I can think of a better gift for my birthday,” he replies, pushing you until you’re falling flat on your back. He quickly leans over you, making you giggle.
“Whatever you want, birthday boy.”
The coffee machine beeps, snapping you out of your reverie as you push the uncle mug out of the way and reach for one of his generic mugs. You pour yourself a coffee and instantly take a sip of the hot liquid, closing your eyes as you take deep breaths, telling yourself to stop thinking about the past. It doesn’t help that nothing has changed in the time you’ve been away. Everything is just like it was when you’d spent every possible moment here – everything except the most obvious change. You’re painfully reminded of that very change when the band of your engagement ring clinks softly against your mug.
Jensen comes down the stairs at that thought, his hair a little messy from bed, sweatpants low on his hips and a plain white henley thrown on. You used to love that look on him. You find yourself staring for a second and clear your throat, turning your back on him as you next search for something to eat for breakfast.
“Morning,” Jensen calls out, heading towards the coffee machine himself. You step out of his way, heading for the fridge. “Sleep okay?”
“Fine, thanks,” you reply, trying to keep things civil and polite. If you’re going to be living with the man for a couple of weeks, you should probably try to get along with him.
“How’s the bed in that spare room?” he asks, leaning against the counter and looking right at you.
You avoid eye contact, setting down the milk on the counter as you open a cupboard in pursuit of some cereal. “It’s fine,” you tell him.
“Is it as good as mine?” he asks next. You look at him, hardly able to believe he’s bringing up the elephant in the room this early on in your strange living arrangement. His eyes are slightly squinted, his brow slightly furrowed, like he’s genuinely waiting for a reply.
“I– I don’t remember,” you lie, pouring some cereal into the bowl, focusing intently on watching the ceramic fill up with Lucky Charms. Why is he even asking that kind of question? Just to remind you of the way things used to be? You don’t need him to do that, this entire place is doing that on its own.
“Oh, okay. Because I was thinking of replacing the mattress in there with one like mine.”
“Oh, right,” you nod, thankful there had been an actual reason for his question besides teasing you.
You shovel cereal into your mouth as an excuse to not have to talk, and things are thankfully quiet between you while you eat. But after a short while you can’t stand the silence. It feels so unnatural for things to be this awkward and tense between the two of you.
“Why did you invite me to live with you?” you find yourself asking, playing with the few remaining marshmallows that have gone soggy in the puddle of milk at the bottom of your bowl.
“You needed somewhere to stay, and I’m right here on the school grounds,” Jensen shrugs, like it’s not any more complicated than that. And it shouldn’t be, except for the fact that he’s your ex-boyfriend. And not just any ex. He’s the one that got away, as they say.
“I would’ve been fine in a hotel,” you argue. You move to put your dishes in the sink, rinsing them out. “This is just weird,” you admit.
“It doesn’t have to be.”
When you turn around you notice he’s using his uncle mug, and it makes your heart hurt.
“It’s not like I want it to be,” you defend. “There’s just too many memories here.”
“All good ones I hope?” he asks, smirking. But the smirk fades when you don’t laugh at his joke and he clears his throat and nods. “I get it, I think about it too. Haven’t stopped, actually, but you being here definitely makes it harder.”
Jensen’s confession is too much to think about right now, so you put your dishes on the drainer and dry your hands.
“I’m gonna take a shower, maybe you can show me my classroom when I’m done?”
“Sure,” Jensen nods. “Do you remember how to use the shower?”
“Yeah,” you reply, “I took plenty here before.”
“Yeah, you did,” he nods in agreement, a tiny smirk twitching over his lips.
“Alright, I’ll be back soon.” You turn and leave before one of you can drag the other even further down memory lane.
“Isn’t this Mrs. Mason’s classroom?” you ask as Jensen opens the door.
“It was,” he nods, “but she retired four years ago. Emma took her place, but she’s gone on maternity leave. Due any day now,” he tells you, stepping to one side to let you in. The classroom is fairly nice, decorated well, colours on the walls, posters of english poems and quotes from classic books. Emma had nice taste, and you feel like you can fit right in without needing to change anything.
“You’ll get your own work laptop, and we’ll set you up with an email address for anything work related. Emma has written up all the lesson plans until the end of the year, so I’ll get those loaded onto the laptop for you, and I’ll introduce you to the rest of the staff on the first day of semester,” Jensen continues as you walk through the desks to the front, admiring the board and turning to look back at the classroom, imagining a full class of girls sitting and staring at you.
You suddenly feel pretty nervous and clear your throat. You’d done work experience in schools before, of course, but you’d never led your own classes alone like this.
“Most of them will probably remember me, I should imagine I left a lasting impression… not a good one,” you confess, feeling your cheeks heat up, trying to push your nerves to the back of your mind.
Jensen laughs softly, nodding his head. “Well, there’s also the ones that never taught you, so maybe they’ll like you at least.”
You know he’s joking, but you can’t help worrying if he’s actually right. All your old teachers will probably dislike you, at least. While you got your act together eventually, the slutty uniform stuck with you until the bitter end. That gave the teachers a lot of grief, and some never forgave you for your bitchy behaviour before you turned yourself around.
“I’ve got a lot of apologises to write,” you chuckle slightly.
You reach down and run your fingers along the teacher’s desk, feeling how smooth it is, and then look up and smile slightly at Jensen, before heading back towards him.
“Jeff’s still here, y’know,” he tells you casually. You stop walking as quickly, frowning slightly as you approach him.
“Coach Jeff?” you ask, feigning ignorance because you know exactly which Jeff he’s talking about – the Jeff you fucked – you just don’t really know why Jensen’s bringing him up like this. “Okay? Why are you telling me?”
“You know why,” Jensen replies, making your stomach knot a little tighter.
You don’t want to assume that he knows what happened between you. You used to think Jeff told him, he did tell you he was going to hand himself over, but then he never lost his job, so you had assumed that Jensen never found out. And Jensen never brought it up, not even when you got intimate. And why wouldn’t he have said something if he knew? You’re sure he would’ve loved a reason to discipline you.
“Nope,” you lie, shaking your head, stopping a couple of desks down from him.
“That night you snuck out, came back covered in hickies?” he prompts, raising an eyebrow. You swallow hard, realising he really does know. Has he only recently found out, or has he known this entire time?
“How did you find out?” you ask quietly.
“Jeff told me, came to me the day he realised you were a student,” Jensen confesses.
“Really?” You frown, “you never said anything.”
Jensen shrugs, moving to lean his ass on top of one of the desks. “You did it for attention, didn’t you? Figured if I didn’t give you what you wanted, maybe you’d stop doing it.”
“And Jeff kept his job?” you ask next, not wanting to acknowledge the truth in Jensen’s words.
“I knew it wasn’t his fault, he did the right thing coming to me, I could tell he didn’t like the fact you were a student, so I let it slide. He’s a great guy, he just made a stupid mistake.”
“Yeah,” you agree quietly, nodding. You always did like Jeff, not only did he treat you well that night, but now you’ve matured, you appreciate why he wanted to create so much space between you, why he might’ve wanted to tell Jensen. He’s a good guy, and the fact he was willing to own up to his mistakes and even lose his job over it proves that. “That was all on me, it wouldn’t have been fair on him to lose his job.”
“Right,” Jensen agrees, nodding. “I knew what you were like, especially when you set your eyes on someone,” he adds, smirking a little deeper.
You feel your cheeks heat up even more and take a deep breath. “Well, that was a long time ago, a different version of me.” You play with your fingers, twisting them softly. “I’m just surprised you never said anything.”
“I guess I didn’t want you to know I was jealous,” Jensen admits, making you look at him. He seems so unashamed about the confession, and you suppose it’s no longer a secret that he was into you, so that makes sense. “You liked all these other older men, fucked them… but it couldn’t be me. And you trying to fuck me only made that worse.”
“I was pretty relentless,” you agree, laughing ever so slightly, mainly out of embarrassment.
“It worked,” he reminds you.
The room falls quiet, because you don’t know how to reply to that. The memory is bittersweet, and you can’t catch yourself thinking about it, not after Christmas, and the memories his place has been bringing up. You can’t let yourself get caught up in Jensen again. You were broken for years after things ended. That can never happen again. And now you have Drew.
Jensen stands up, heading back towards the door, and you’re grateful to be leaving. Maybe you can make some excuse to get a few hours alone, because all this time with Jensen is starting to really mess with your head. Jensen lingers in the doorway, and as you squeeze past him he closes the door behind you both.
“So, now you know that I know about Jeff, there’s always something I’ve wanted to know,” Jensen speaks up. You look at him, waiting for him to elaborate. He locks the door and then holds the key up in front of you. As you go to reach for it, he pulls back. “Was he better than me?”
“What?” you choke out, shocked by his blunt question.
“Did he… make you feel as good as I used to?”
Your eyes widen, your heartbeat increasing just thinking about it. You never thought Jensen would be this forward, and it’s really thrown you off centre. You consider your answer, even though you’re fairly sure you’re not going to actually give it to him. Of course, you had a great time with Jeff that night, you still remember it pretty well, but the sex with Jensen was different – it was the best you’ve ever felt. Not even Drew… You can’t tell him that though, not when it shouldn’t be true.
“Relax, I’m teasing you,” Jensen laughs it off, handing you the key. “Are you hungry? I might grab a pizza for lunch, been craving one since we drove back.”
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