Part One:

He should have recognized the kid as trouble as soon as he recognized the kid's accent. Jensen Ackles is a Texas boy through and through, and Texas boys, in his experience, either have a way of finding trouble or being trouble. Now Jensen is the type to find trouble, and this kid, all of seventeen years old, Jared Padalecki, well he is trouble.

Jensen knows that he's the youngest professor to ever be hired on at Ridgefield Academy. He is all of twenty-two years old, and having skipped a couple of years in high school and taking on a full college workload early on has seen him through a master's degree in English and higher education. Now he's the newest English teacher at one of the most prestigious schools in Charleston, South Carolina.

He's far from home, just how he likes it, and he's heard the rumors about that tall kid in his last class of the day. The kid's trouble, been kicked out of several schools already for pranks and petty rivalries with other students, before finding his way to Ridgefield, managing a scholarship off of his athletic abilities, even if his grade in English is severely lacking.

Jensen is in his classroom reading through a paper on the liberal poetic license that Shakespeare uses in "A Midsummer Night's Dream", and wanting to either laugh himself into a coma or massacre the paper with his shiny, new red pen. There is a knock on his door, and he shifts and puts the paper down on his desk, relieved at the distraction now offered until he tells the visitor to come in and sees that it's Jared Padalecki, looking self-assured, like someone used to getting his way based on his looks and power of persuasion.

Jensen looks him up and down and wonders if the kid has ever actually worked for anything in his life. He has so much potential and he just wastes it on pranks and football. It's a real shame, because it's obvious Jared reads the assignments in his little humorous anecdotes during class, but he never commits to the work. It frustrates Jensen to no end. It's almost like Jared is afraid to commit anything to paper, like he will be judged. As it is, it's been three weeks and Jared hasn't written a single essay or paper Jensen has assigned, and on his tests, while he does excellent with the multiple choice questions, and the one or two word answer questions, he never does more than a sentence or two with the essay questions.

The boy is intelligent, but Jensen isn't going to give a grade to someone who won't apply themself. Jensen worked too hard to get where he is to let someone else just slide by on good looks and charm.

"Yes, Mr. Padalecki?" he asks as he removes his wire framed glasses from their perch, and pinches the bridge of his nose, wondering just what it is that the young man has come to him for.

Jared shuffles his feet, and Jensen looks up curiously, because he's never seen the kid nervous before. He raises a brow and with a smooth gesture of his hand indicates the smaller desk across from his. "Have a seat, Mr. Padalecki."

Jared manages to fall into the desk chair, his limbs all akimbo, legs stretched out beneath him, but somehow graceful, and Jensen catches himself wondering how someone so tall could manage grace so easily.

"So, what brings you here after class? I was under the impression that you avoided the classroom like the plague, but coming to me after class might make someone think otherwise," Jensen says, and his voice carries none of the weight of his casual Texas drawl or upbringing.

----------

Jared stares at the blackboard in disgust, seeing the assignment still written up there in the professor's neat hand. He can't understand why this class is so tough on him. He just can't bring himself to turn in any of what he's written. It's almost like the professor makes the topics seem so personal on purpose. Jared can't bring himself to show this stranger the thought that goes into the things he commits to paper. He gets started, likes where the essay is headed and then he's reminded of the things he's kept hidden since his daddy caught him kissing Adam Clayton from down the road and how he's been put in private schools and shipped off.

Jared knows he's a dirty little secret. He's managed to stay in school on his own terms though. Especially after the last school he was kicked out of. His father had cut him off, and so Jared had to work to earn a scholarship to Ridgefield, but football isn't a challenge for him, neither is basketball or track. Hell, he's a Texas boy, of course he can play football, and other sports just come natural.

Jared wishes that he wasn't known for his physical merits, or his reputation as a prankster. He wishes he didn't make his momma cry and could be normal like his older brother Jeff, or sweet and quiet like his little sister Megan, but that's not how he's built. That's not who he is. And he wishes that he'd never kissed Adam Clayton, and learned that boys were way more interesting than girls.

Still he's here for a reason. He needs to raise his grade to stay in school or he'll be forced to leave or worse yet ask his father to pay off his tuition. He would rather die or take off than ask his father to pay off the rest of his school year, especially considering that this is his last year, and there's only a few months left, one last semester and then he graduates and he'll be on his own.

Jared remembers the conversation he'd had with his coach earlier. Coach Morgan, who sees an amazing athletic ability in Jared and doesn't want to see the kid taken off his team. Coach Morgan had been pissed when he'd seen Jared's latest grades, a D in English would get him kicked off the team and there went Jared's scholarship cover. Jared can't afford to get kicked off of the track team and the team can't afford to lose its star.

Jared shakes his head at the memory of the telling off he'd gotten from the coach, as he sits in the small desk that's almost made comical with him managing to fit in it. He takes in a deep breath, slips out of the desk and walks up to Professor Ackles. He puts his hands down flat on Ackles' desk, and bends forward until their eyes are level and thinks, What ever you have to do, Jared. What ever you have to do.

At least the professor isn't bad on the eyes, and he's kind of young looking too. He smiles and then tones it down as he puts on his best shy act and softly says, "Professor, I wanted to discuss my grade."

Professor Ackles looks over him with a degree of suspicion, and Jared can't help thinking how hot the professor looks without the glasses, and then the professor is picking up his leather messenger bag from the floor and putting papers neatly into it, as he says, "I would suggest a tutor, or perhaps a writing coach, considering you haven't turned in a single paper I've assigned this semester. And why is that exactly, Mr. Padalecki? Is your promising athletic career taking up most of your time? What about life beyond the sports arena?"

Jared feels his temper rising to the fore, but he shoves it back, and remembers that he has to play this off as humble if he wants it to work. So he brings out his best good ol' boy, down home, Texas drawl, and puts his charming side to work.

"I was thinking maybe a tutor, or a writing coach too. You wouldn't mind, professor? I mean I'll do anything to raise my grade. Anything at all," he says in his best drawl and runs his tongue across his lips.

He doesn't expect the flare of anger in his professor's eyes and thinks that maybe he misjudged the newest professor to grace Ridgefield Academy.

Ackles stands up, the chair wheeling with a squeak behind him, his hands braced on the table the same as Jared's, as he bites out, "Seducing me won't help you or your grade. It also won't work. I'm your teacher. I've worked too long and too damn hard to get where I am. You've had every single damn thing handed to you your whole damn life because of a smile or some God damned flattery. Well, I'm just as much a good ol' Texas boy as you are, and I ain't fallin' for it. You want your grade to go up, you can damn well do the work just like everybody else. You want some extra credit work, fine. Write something, anything you want, your life story, an essay on Shakespeare's sonnets, hell even how you feel about football, just write something, at least three pages, single space, size twelve Times New Roman or Arial font, and we'll go from there."

Jared swallows thickly, actually floored that he's been shot down so quickly. He steps back and watches as his professor gathers the rest of his things and heads for the door. He shoots a glare in Jared's direction and Jared scrambles out of the classroom. He races down the hall as the professor locks the classroom door, and Jared doesn't stop until the pang in his side and the roar of his heartbeat in his ear becomes too much, and he falls back against the wall by the stairwell, slips down it, his feet sliding out in front of him, his chest heaving, and his thoughts all over the place.

No one has ever dared to tell him off like that before, and the look on Ackles' face, that anger, that fire. Jared, lord help him, liked that passion directed at him. Now it's not about his grade, it's about a challenge. It's about seducing Professor Ackles because Professor Ackles said it could not be done.

And if there is one thing Jared Padalecki likes it's a challenge.

----------

Jensen walks briskly down the halls of the academy, he descends the stairwell in the northeast quarter and heads out of the side door to the teacher's parking lot. He doesn't stop until he's made it to his car, a '72 Pontiac GTO. She's sleek and red, and something he had to work for and work on himself. She's every bit his.

He puts his bag down in the passenger's seat, slips into the driver's seat, shuts the door behind him, puts the key in the ignition, but doesn't turn the engine over. Instead he wraps his fingers around the cool, hard plastic of the steering wheel, his knuckles white with his grip as he lets his head fall back.

Christ, he's never felt anything like that before in his life. That kid has determination and intensity rolling off of him in waves, and Jensen knows that if he's ever caught up in that, even once, he will drown. It's a scary thought.

He sighs, sits up, turns the engine over, and takes off. Ten minutes later he's pulling into the driveway of his new house. He gets out of the car, gather's his bag, locks the door behind him, and then heads to the house. It's modest, a two story, and the only reason he can afford the damn thing is because he trusted an old friend of his with a few sound investments.

Michael Rosenbaum might be many things, a crazy son of a bitch being one of the things to top that list, but he always knew what he was doing with money. He invested Jensen's savings well.

Jensen takes in a breath as he sets his bag down on the coffee table and heads to his kitchen to fix a fresh pot of coffee. He needs something to relax him, and somehow coffee seems to do the trick. Once the pot is on he walks back out to his living room, looks distastefully at the bag and then his eyes wander over to his guitar sitting patiently in the corner, waiting on some attention.

He's almost tempted to go and pick up the instrument, but a phone ringing drags him from his thoughts, and he picks up the handset from its cradle on the coffee table.

"Hello," he says, wondering who could be calling him, as his mother usually waited until Thursday to call.

"Jenny! What the hell man?! When were you gonna tell me you scored that high fallutin' teachin' job, and all the way in South Carolina, man! You got something against teachin' close to home?" says a familiar voice.

Jensen shakes his head and chuckles. "Chris, you know me. The further from home I am the better. My momma's got Josh and Kenzie to smother. I had to get away. Love my momma, but you know how she is."

"Yeah son, I gotcha, now tell me about this teachin' gig. You know I had to hear it from Steve! How the hell you tell him before me? That hurts, Jenny. Makes me think you don't love me no more."

"Anymore," Jensen replies with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah, forget you majored in English, asshole."

"And all you did was party with Rosey back at Texas U."

He can imagine Chris nodding on the other end of the line, a smug grin on his face. "Good times, son. Remember that time we all got drunk out of our mind and fucking Rosenbaum came rushing out of the closet in that little red cocktail dress and nearly broke his neck in fucking three inch heels trying to striptease for Steve's birthday?"

Jensen grimaces at the memory and responds with a weak, "Yeah."

Thankfully the conversation turns to Steve and the album he's working on. Jensen asks questions about the riffs and what songs Steve's putting on it, and again his eyes wander to his guitar waiting patiently on him.

Eventually he gets off the phone with Chris after promising to pick Chris up from the airport in Charlotte a week from Saturday. He goes into the kitchen and settles on left over Chinese food in his fridge and a glass of Coke. Once he's done with dinner he heads back to his living room, heaves a sigh and pulls out the papers he was grading earlier. He finds his new red pen at the bottom of his bag and then he sets about the systematic slaughtering.

----------

Jared is sitting at the small desk on his side of the room, staring at his computer screen and the cursor blinking defiantly at him from the word processor he has open. He takes in a deep breath, and his mind wanders to what he can do to shake up his new project. This Professor Ackles needs to be taken down a peg or two. Talking down to him, telling him he can't do something. Jared is going to prove his point to Ackles. First he's going to write this extra credit paper and then he's going to turn in every single paper that he's written that he just didn't bother turning in, and when he's the top in the class he'll make his move.

It's not that he can't write, it's just that writing is a personal thing, and something that Jared doesn't share with others that often. Well, now he has a challenge and if it takes sharing his collective thoughts and writing, then he will do it.

He lets his head fall back, his eyes staring up blankly at the ceiling as he recalls that Ackles had said he could write about anything for this extra credit assignment, in fact he'd left the possibilities very open. A smirk turns the corner of Jared's mouth and he snaps back to attention, his eyes on the word processor, his fingers flying over the keys. A shadow passes behind his eyes and his tongue flickers across his lips as the words just flow, he can't stop this madness that has suddenly taken him over, as he describes in critical detail the things that he's seeing in his mind, the things he wants to show his new favorite professor.

A shudder runs through the young eager body, tongues and teeth clash, until the older man is tonguing and biting his way down the younger throat, marking and taking what is being offered. He savors the flavor of the young flesh, until the boy grows tired of his game and decides to change the stakes.

The boy is quick as he twists and then it's the older man with his back shoved against the wall, the boy's teeth clamped where his neck meets shoulder, and the boy doesn't pull away until he tastes sweet copper and knows that he's left his mark. The older man is his, and no one can change that fact. The older man's body shivers as he accepts this fact. This is how it was meant to be from the beginning.

If you ask for secrets to be revealed you must first belong to the teller of those stories.

He is finished looking over the paper and correcting it when he nearly jumps at the sound of the door to his room being open and he rolls his eyes as his roommate, Chad "Mayhem" Michael Murray, comes stumbling into the room. The guy is an asshole, but he's the only guy that calls Jared on his bullshit and doesn't worship him for his athletic abilities.

Chad is also the only guy that knows his dirty secret. Chad is the only person that knows Jared likes guys. And really Chad isn't so bad; he kind of grows on people like a fungus that is somewhat annoying but not altogether unsightly or life threatening, until he got drunk that is.

"JT, dude, what the hell? There's a party in town and you're missin' out? You checkin' out porn or somethin'?" Chad asks and draws up behind him to see what's on the screen.

Jared snorts. Chad would come to that conclusion.

"Naw, just doin' a little homework, Mayhem."

"Homework, hell!" Chad says, and it's obvious that he's read some of what Jared's written. "Seriously, tell me that you're not turning in porn, GAY porn, as an assignment to Professor Asswipe."

"It's Professor Ackles, and he said that I could write a paper on anything that I wanted as long as it was at least three pages long, in size twelve Times New Roman or Arial font, and was single spaced. I've managed seven pages, and I can get an extension on all the other papers I haven't turned in," Jared replies.

Chad rolls his eyes. "You wrote those papers the second they were assigned and NEVER turned them in? Are you fuckin' kidding me? Christ, man! What's your deal? You're here on a scholarship! You flunk out and you're fucked, and what's with you and this Professor Ass…Ackles, anyway? You like him or something?" Chad asks and then his eyes light up and Jared is suddenly wary as Chad continues, "You totally do! You're hot on the new professor. And that's why you're turning in gay porn as your first assignment. You're seriously tweaked, but that's pretty fuckin' genius. He'll either come in his pants or have an aneurysm and die."

"Do you even know what an aneurysm is?" Jared asks pointedly.

"Yeah, it's a medical thingy that kills you," Chad answers, and Jared can't knock Chad's slight ability to reason somewhat logically.

"You continue to amaze me," Jared says with a roll of his eyes.

Chad grins at Jared and settles into his bed on the other side of the room, the party forgotten, because if there's one thing that Chad does know, it's Jared, and he knows that Jared's got something going in that evil brain of his.

"So, you gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Jared replies.

"What you got planned for the new professor. You're workin' on something. I know you, JT, sure it ain't been long, but I know you better than anybody else 'round here. So tell me, gonna play a little game of Lolita and get the guy canned?"

Jared shakes his head. "Naw man. He ain't gonna get fired, cause we're never gonna get caught, but I'm so gonna fuck him till he admits that I've got him by the balls, and the only thing he can remember is my name. I'm not gonna stop till I fucking own Ackles body, mind, and soul."

Chad folds his arms behind his head and nods. "You're seriously fucked up. S'what I like 'bout you, man. Now give me the details of the plan, cause you know me, JT. You tell me something and my lips are sealed. I got your back, man. You're the only one that ever gave a shit about me, so I return the favor."

Jared grins as he clicks on the print icon in the word processor and his printer gives a jerk and buzz as it prints out seven freshly typed pages, and then an eighth page, Jared's cover page, his name, grade, and the date on the lower right corner of the page, and centered half way down the crisp, neat title page a single word between quotation marks. Shameless.

He organizes the sheets together, and with the title page in place it looks like a perfectly innocent assignment. He staples the upper left corner of the paper, slides it into his binder and safely tucks the binder away in his backpack. He'll turn the paper in tomorrow after class with a promise to have the rest of his assignments turned in by the end of the week.

He can't wait to see Ackles reaction to his first turned in assignment, because he knows that Ackles is just like him, another dirty little secret. Why else would the man come all the way to South Carolina when there were plenty of schools in Texas to teach at? Sure Ridgefield was ivy league as far as private schools went, but there's just something telling about Ackles and his need to get away from his home state, and Jared's picked up on some familiar vibes from the man.

Vibes that he recognizes in himself.

----------

Jensen is just finishing up explaining their latest assignment, a three to four page essay on someone who has been an influence in their life due next Friday, when the final bell rings, and with a small grin and a wave of his hand, he dismisses the class.

He's packing up his bag when he feels eyes on him. He looks up and his eyes widen behind his wire-framed glasses as he sees Jared Padalecki watching him, the boy's head cocked to his left, almost like he's studying Jensen. Jensen swallows, suddenly feeling nervous as the student continues to scrutinize him and it doesn't matter that he's the adult and Jared is the kid, because he feels like a piece of meat.

He clears his throat, raises a brow at Jared and then says, "Mr. Padalecki, class is dismissed."

"I can see that, professor. I actually wanted to give you something."

"Okay," Jensen says carefully, and Jared gets up gracefully from his desk in the back, shoulders his book bag and then picks up what looks to be an essay of some sort.

Jared saunters down the little aisle made by the desks, and then he stops at Jensen's desk, drops the essay on Jensen's desk, and turns to leave. At the door he pauses and looks over his shoulder with a little wink. "I'll have the rest of the essays I owe you turned in by Friday. But that's a start right? Enjoy."

The kid then has the nerve to laugh as he slips out of the door and Jensen lets out a breath he hasn't realized he's been holding. Christ, he's playing with fire and while it scares him he's not sure if he wants to stop.

The paper looks innocent enough, there's a cover page, blank save for the very center of the paper and the bottom right corner. Jensen lifts a brow at the title of the paper, "Shameless". He shrugs it off; then he flips it to the first page.

His eyes widen about six paragraphs in as he realizes what Jared's written. There are no names, just the young man and the older man with glasses. By the third page his mouth is hanging open, his pants are tight, and he pauses, wondering if the position described is even physically possible.

Once he's reached the fourth page there is an ache in his groin and he's decided to finish reading the essay at home where it's okay to take care of certain needs. He wants to give Jared detention for this, but that would encourage Jared, and he did ask for it. Next time he will set some rules, like essays may not contain pornographic material of any kind no matter how well written and structured. And damn, he hates to admit it, but this essay is well written, and very enticing, to say the least. That it's about him and the writer in question, he has no doubt.

He slips the paper into his bag, stands up, positions the bag strategically over his crotch, locks the classroom behind him, and doesn't stop until he's safely in his car. He turns the engine over and within a few minutes he's pulling into the driveway of his home. It isn't long before he's inside the house, and in his bedroom, reading over Jared's essay.

Standing over him, the young man looks down at his prey. The older man looks young without the wire frame glasses he usually wears, and he looks ready for the taking tied spread eagle to the bedposts, his freckles bold against his fair skin. The older man is just starting to come around. It takes a moment and then he's struggling and thrashing against the bonds, spitting and cursing, wondering how it came down to this.

His struggles subside, and he surveys the room and his eyes widen as they squint and then the younger man steps out of the shadows and draws near the bed, runs the back of his hand tenderly down the strong edge of the older man's jaw. The older man shivers beneath the touch, and jerks away, his eyes are sharp and warning when they meet the younger man's gaze.

The younger man laughs and slowly slips free of his clothes, his shirt he tosses across the room, and he smirks as the sound of his zipper's descent fills the room and the older man's eyes lower as he shoves his pants and boxers down his legs.

"Time for the student to teach the teacher," the younger man whispers, and leans down, and the older man, the teacher expects a kiss, but instead the younger man noses his face aside and his teeth close around the teacher's throat and the teacher's head falls back in submission. The young man pulls back, his eyes dark with want, as he leans forward teeth nibbling at the lobe of the teacher's ear, and then he whispers, "Soon you'll know you're mine."

A ripple runs up Jensen's spin and a bead of sweat slips down the bridge of his nose as he turns the page, and shifts on his bed, and before he realizes it, his pants are undone and down around his ankles with his boxers, his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. His breathing is heavy, and he's swallowing thickly as his grip tightens and he returns his focus to the essay.

The young man shifts until his body covers the teacher's, their cocks colliding, and the teacher's hips jerk forward at the contact. The young man pulls away, and shakes his head.

"I'm the teacher now," he says.

The young man then licks and bites his way down the teacher's quivering body, and he bites down pointedly over the older man's hip, hard enough to leave a mark. He lifts his head, and his gaze locks with the teacher's as his large hand wraps around the teacher's cock, and the teacher's hips twitch.

The young man grins, pulls back, his tongue swipes across the head of the teacher's cock, getting a taste of the salty sweet precum. He chuckles and his breath is cold against the wet head of his teacher's cock. The teacher shivers beneath him and the young man bends down, lifting the teacher's thighs enough to run his tongue along the crease of his teacher's ass before showing special attention to his teacher's balls, and there's a smile of satisfaction on his face as he teacher cries out and curses and writhes against the ropes holding him captive.

Jensen's breathing grows even more erratic as his hand runs up and down his dick, working through the tension and ache in his body at the words written by a student, words about him and said student. He swallows thickly, his eyes drinking in every word.

The young man leans up, his tongue tracing along the shell of the teacher's ear as he whispers huskily, "What will you do if I cut you loose?"

Jensen throws his head back with a roar as the tingle in his spine builds and he breaks. His cock twitching in his hand as he comes long and hard, streams of milky fluid shooting out across the bed. Some landing on the essay, and then he rolls over onto his back, his hand weakly working around his sensitive cock, riding out the last of his orgasm, as he struggles to get his breathing back in control, his pulse rushing in his ears.

He finally takes in a shaking breath, let's his head roll to the side, and then he closes his eyes at he sight of the now sticky essay. There is no way he's giving that back to Jared. Absolutely no way, but all in all, the paper certainly deserves an A. Not only is it well written, but it more than involves its intended audience.

----------

Jared is at his computer prinitng up the last essay that he owes Professor Ackles when the door to the dorm room is opened and he hears a put upon sigh from his roommate. He spins in the wheelie chair in time to see Chad shaking his head, and saying, "JT, dude, seriously. More homework? Your rep is being brought into question."

"And I have a scholarship to save and a teacher to seduce, Mayhem."

Chad rolls his eyes. "Like you could seriously do that. I mean I get that he's kinda prissy, but you see that car he drives, the '72 GTO, there's no way he's into guys, man. That's a chick magnet kinda car."

"You'd be surprised, Chad," Jared replies.

"Yeah. Whatever. So how'd English go today?" he asks.

Jared looks up with a wide grin. "Wasn't bad. He knows what he's talking about in his lectures. And I turned in that essay."

Chad's eyes widened and his mouth fell open and he shook his head to clear it. "Seriously? You turned in the porn? Dude! You sure got a set, Jay man."

"Yeah, wanna see?" Jared says and grabs at his crotch with a chuckle.

Chad pulls a face and shakes his head. "Nah, I'm good. Save that shit for Ackles."

"Wonder what class is gonna be like tomorrow. I mean the curiosity had to get to him. I guarantee he'll read it sometime tonight. There's no way he wouldn't."

"Probably slap your ass with detention or send you to the principal or give you some kind of disciplinary lecture. If he doesn't totally ream you for the flaming queer you are," Chad replies.

Jared snorts. "Naw. If anything he'll probably set me up with his address and a time to show up later."

"In your dreams," Chad replies.

Jared shrugs. "Who knows, we might even talk about my essay and what inspired it."

----------

No one is more relieved than Jensen as the final bell of the day rings.

"All right, class dismissed, except for you, Mr. Padalecki. I would like to have a word with you if you don't mind," Jensen says.

The rest of the students file out of the classroom until only Jensen and Jared are left. Jensen leans his ass against his desk, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes narrowed on Jared. He watches as Jared slips out of the desk, gathers his books and saunters down the aisle, much like yesterday.

Jensen lifts a brow at him and isn't impressed with this little show. "The next time you turn in an essay I expect it to contain age appropriate material, not pornography."

Jared cocks his head a little and says, "You left the topic wide open, so I went with the first thing that came to mind."

Jensen shifts his gaze to the door, pushes away from the desk, goes to the door and locks it, because he doesn't want anyone within earshot of this conversation.

"I am your teacher, Mr. Padalecki. I am not an object of your desire, nor do I appreciate you turning in assignments involving me in some sexual fantasy. I expect more of my students, and I will not have my job brought into question over whatever kind of stunt you are trying to pull. Like I told you before, I've worked too hard to get to where I am and no spoiled little rich kid is taking that from me."

"What do you know about me? I'm here on a scholarship, in case you don't remember," Jared bites out, anger rising in him.

"I've read your file, Mr. Padalecki, son of Gerald Padalecki, one of the most well invested men in this country. You come from money. I don't know why you need a scholarship to come here, it's not my business, but you pull another stunt like that and I won't tolerate it. I'll let it slide this once, but not again, and don't bring my job into question, because I actually had to bust my ass off to get to this point in my life."

"I'm the dirty family secret. That's why I need the scholarship. My father's cut me off, and after school I'm on my own. This was my last option. I'm sticking it out and then who knows, maybe I'll run off and join the circus, now cut the bullshit and just give the paper back to me. I wanna see my grade."

"You got a 98, the style, organization, and grammar were well done, and I graded you accordingly, but you will not be getting the paper back," Jensen replies sharply, color rising along his cheeks in a nice rosy hue.

Jared bites down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing and once he's under control, he nods. "Fine. You can keep it. There's plenty more where that came from if you decide to ever give me another open topic."

Jensen narrows his gaze and then goes back to the door to unlock it. Jared follows and brushes past Jensen's side as he slips out of the door and heads down the hallway with a quaint little wave.

Jensen, a little shaken from the contact, walks back to his desk, picks up his bag and notices the essay on his desk. He lifts a brow skeptically and picks up the paper. He studies the title, "The Degeneration of Civilization as explained in The Lord of the Flies". One of the first things he assigned was an essay on The Lord of the Flies by William Golding. He absently wonders when Jared actually wrote the paper as he slips it into his bag, walks out of the classroom, locks the door behind him and heads to his car.

----------

Jared comes back to the dorm to find Chad playing videogames and tells Chad, "Dude, Ackles totally came on my essay."

"What the porn? And how the hell do you know?" Chad asks.

Jared smirks. "Because he told me the grade he gave me on the paper, which was a 98, and then told me that he wasn't giving it back to me. He jacked off while he read it and then came all over it. I'd swear by it."

Chad shakes his head in disbelief and then offers up the second controller and leans forward to restart the game. Jared flops back in the beanbag on the floor and watches as Chad's player kicks the shit out of him, but he doesn't really care, because his mind is on his new favorite professor.

----------

There is a smile on his face as he listens to his friend tap his fingers against the dash to the rhythm of the demo CD playing. Jensen shifts his glance to his friend as he takes the final exit and they're only a few miles away from his home. It's a damn long drive from Charlotte, North Carolina to Charleston, South Carolina, but Christian Kane is his best friend, and Jensen kinda needs someone in his corner with the way the last week has gone.

Chris has been silent since they left the Waffle House, and Jensen knows that Chris has the impression that something is up. Sometimes he wishes his friend wasn't so good at reading people. He takes in a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh when Chris' fingers quit tapping and he can feel those stern blue eyes fixing on him.

"So man, you gonna tell me what's got you so quiet? Usually you're talking my ear off asking how everybody back home is, and hell, you've hardly said a damn thing about the album, son. Some asshole giving you shit?" Chris asks.

He shakes his head. "No… Yeah, but there's not a whole lot I can do about it."

"Oh, and why's that?" Chris asks.

"Because he's a student," Jensen grumbles, and Chris leans over to hear him better and says, "What was that, Jenny?"

"I said he's a student. Christ, and he's got a hard on for me and he's Gerald Fucking Padalecki's son."

"The Gerald Padalecki? As in that rich asshole from San Antonio trying to worm his way into the governor's chair? Holy hell, you're shittin' me right?"

"I wish I were, and get this Chris, he's at the school on a scholarship."

"But his daddy's loaded!"

"Yeah, and his daddy cut him off. Apparently there was some kind of incident between him and some kid from his old school. He was messing around with the dean's kid and it landed him in a lot of shit, and he got sent here, but he's working his way through school on a scholarship. He even has a job at a little café in town to help with expenses."

Chris turns fully in his seat as Jensen pulls into his driveway. Jensen parks the car, puts the safety break on and turns to face his best friend. "Tell me somethin', Jen. How you know so much about this kid?"

Jensen shrugs. "I read up on his file."

"And his file told you about that job he's got at that café? And that file's got you all turned 'round ass backwards? Christ man! We're talking about your job here! You can't give up everything you've worked so hard for on a piece of ass."

"It's not like that. This kid, he can write. He's amazing, but you know he didn't turn in a single paper until I'd practically failed him, and then I gave him a chance and he turned in a story about what he wanted to do to me. Holy fuck, and I still haven't gotten over the story, and he's turned in every other paper I assigned too. He's got so much potential and he's hell bent on stepping out of daddy's shadow. I think deep down he's a good kid who's just been convinced he's a bad one. He told me he's the family's dirty little secret. What kind of kid grows up thinking that?"

"A fucked up one. Look man, don't do this. You're smart, you're young, and hell, you got a great job with security and benefits. This kid is still in high school and he's Gerald Fucking Padalecki's son," Chris replies.

Jensen runs his fingers through his short hair and lets out his breath in a whoosh. "Yeah, I know that. It's just, he's a good kid. You know me, I don't just go for a pretty face. He's hell bent on seducing me though."

"Yeah, I bet he is. Been wiggling that ass of yours during class? It's a wonder someone ain't tried to bend you over that desk and fuck you seven ways to Sunday. Damn boy, even with glasses you still manage to look hot enough to make a straight boy think twice."

"Whatever you say man. So how about we get you settled in and then we'll go out for some drinks. Maybe you'll even get me drunk enough to sing a song or two," Jensen says with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"Hell yeah. That's the plan. Gonna drink you under the table and get you to sing a little something. Might even get you so liquored up that you'll sign something that will guarantee you singing back up on my next big album, and you know if you help me out, you're gonna get stuck singing with Steve too."

Jensen chuckles. "Yeah, you guys still teaming up on me, even when you're flyin' solo."

"Don't go forgettin' it either. Steve'd kick my ass if I didn't at least make the offer of harmonizing on his album."

Jensen laughs as he gets out of the car and takes Chris's guitar case while Chris gathers up his bags. Jensen leads the way to his house, unlocks the door, and steps inside with Chris on his heels. He gives Chris directions to the guestroom as he sets the guitar down reverently on the couch. A minute later he hears an exaltation of "Damn!"

Chris seems happy with his sleeping arrangements.

----------

"Ready yet, man?" Chad calls into the bathroom.

Jared shakes his head, his hair flying around his face, and he smiles at his reflection.

"Yeah," he calls back.

"Good, cause it's the first Friday you've had off in a while, and we're gonna go out," Chad replies with a grin full of teeth and evil.

"What's the plan?" Jared asks as he steps out of their bathroom.

Chad is holding up two plastic coated cards, and Jared can now see his grin and something flutters in his stomach. "We're celebrating your twenty-first birthday in style man. You missed mine last week, but I'm too good a guy to miss out on yours."

Jared snatched the cards from his friend and his eyes widened. "Dude, where'd you score these? They look so damn real!"

Chad shrugs. "Some computer geek who was happy with the hundred bucks I gave him. He could have held out for two, but hell, who am I to argue for the charge of services rendered?"

"Excellent point, my friend."

"Happy birthday, JT," Chad says and claps Jared on the back.

"Who knows, you might even get laid tonight."

Jared rolls his eyes.

"Damn, tell me you're not still holding out for Professor Asswipe, cause seriously, it ain't gonna happen."

Jared chuckles at that. "We'll see 'bout that, but for now, let's celebrate my 'birthday' in style."

With that the two step out of their dorm and slip off the grounds, heading into town. They'll sneak back onto campus grounds later, when it's dark and just after security's third patrol of the grounds.?

Read Chapter Two of TempestQuill's Shameless