Fic: Unchangeable (Jared/Jensen) part 1

[bewaretheides15]

Fandom: J2
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17 -- Wordcount: 13,000
Warnings: High school AU, underage, dragon!Jared, creature!everybody-but-Jensen, adopted!brothers!j2, NSFW image at the end.
Notes: Sometimes when I finish things, I ask myself "Self, why did we create this?" Sometimes myself answers "Because the emotional and psychological aspects were interesting," or "Because it's important to challenge overselves," or "Because this kink - we need it". Other times myself just grins at me stupidly and starts to giggle. This fic falls under the latter heading. Also, assuming LJ lets me, I'm posting art to go along with it. I was going to do a sketch but when I started looking for reference pics, somehow it ended up turning into a manip instead. It's been a while since I did any photo work, but I'm pretty pleased with it over all. Hope you like.
Summary - Jared's basically the sweetest guy on the planet, except for the fact that he is actually a giant fire-breathing lizard.

Jensen’s first glimpse of his dragon-brother is through the folds of burgundy velvet. He’s small and sort of scared and velvet is just one of a dozen words his momma has used today that he doesn’t actually know. She whispered something about the cloth excitedly to Jensen’s dad when the big man carefully produced the bundle of it from the gilded carrier in his arms and his father had nodded his agreement.

Jensen doesn’t really understand what’s happening but everyone keeps telling him that it’s an honor and that it’s very very important. It doesn’t really make sense to him why being Chosen to take care of a dragonet makes him important, but he nods his head and says thank you like his momma taught him to.

Everyone is staring at him as the big man puts the blanket in Jensen’s arms. It’s too big for him to hold right, especially when the thing inside starts wiggling. The fabric is covered all over in shiny, bright stones like on jewelry commercials; diamonds and emeralds and rubies. Jensen can’t tell which are which, but it’s still exciting and scary to have them in his hands wrapped around this wriggling, writhing thing. He hopes they won’t break if he drops them.

The creature in the bundle won’t stay still, like when he tries to pick up the neighbor’s cat and get it to play with him. It’s about the same size too and when he feels the prick of claws through cloth he wonders if they really did mess up and give him a cat on accident.

At first he doesn’t notice it, or can’t tell what it is because the fabric is so shiny all over that the little flash of copper doesn’t stand out. Then the thing inside thrashes furiously, rolls all around and almost makes Jensen lose his grip on it but finally pushes its little head out into the air.

It’s not a cat.

Jensen’s never seen a dragon before, not a real one. He watched a movie once with one in it, but even that isn’t really the same. It looks sort of like a lizard, bony head and a thin, pointy nose, but different too. Its scales are like the inside of a money-purse, copper and bronze and gold with sharp-looking little spikes at the base of its skull, trailing down the back of its neck where it disappears into the blanket. What he can’t stop looking at, though, are its eyes. They’re too big for its head with little cuts of black through the center instead of normal round pupils, and Jensen can’t decide what color they are before they’re changing again, blue and green and brown shifting under the surface like swirled water, glowing from the inside. It’s really pretty.

Vaguely he hears his momma asking the man about human forms and shifting and what foods are best and the man answering softly but mostly Jensen’s too busy watching the little creature climb further out of the bundle, long neck and tiny body and even longer tail. He doesn’t notice the wings until it rears up on its hind legs, front ones balanced against Jensen’s chest, and the thin membranes flare out. His breath catches in surprise and he stumbles, toppling onto his butt on the living room carpet.

The tiny dragon squawks and hisses, little wings flapping wildly, tail coiled startlingly tight around Jensen’s wrist. After a minute it settles again, turning its head this way and that to take Jensen in from all sides, making him feel trapped even though it’s much tinier than he is. It leans in until they are nose to nose, too close to look at without his eyes wanting to cross, and makes this noise like chuff-chuff-chuff that sends little puffs of hot breath against Jensen’s lips. Before he can decide what any of that means, his shoulders are itching from the press of little claws through his t-shirt as the dragonet climbs up to curl around his neck, head butting up underneath Jensen’s jaw.

When he looks up, his parents and the big man are smiling at him with this funny warm look on their faces. Jensen doesn’t have long to think about it, though, because the baby dragon starts nudging insistently under his chin until Jensen reaches up nervously and runs a finger down its neck. The creature nuzzles into his palm and starts humming so hard Jensen feels like his whole body is shaking.

***

Jensen wakes in the middle of the night on a sharp prickly jolt. For a flash of a moment there’s nothing but the cold surge of fear stealing his breath in the space between sleep and wakefulness before he manages to locate the source of the uncomfortable tingling in his right leg.

“Jared,” he groans, voice sleep-rough. He strikes out aimlessly at the thick weight wound between his legs and around his thigh. His brother grumbles unhappily in his sleep, soft sucking pressure picking up around Jensen’s thumb again as he works his too-warm tongue against it. Jared really is too old for this crap.

On the other hand, trying to rescue the digit from his adoptive sibling’s mouth isn’t likely to get him anything but bitten for his trouble. Sometimes he thinks it would be better if the school hadn’t agreed to put them in the same dorm room - or maybe if they’d put bars or something around Jared’s bed to keep him from creeping over to Jensen’s side of the room - but Jared would probably find a way follow him no matter where he was assigned to bed down, just like he does everything else. Besides, Jensen’s not really sure he’d be able to rest without the banked-ember heat of Jared’s body against him anyway.

“Jared!” he complains louder, leg still prickling numbly in the tight grip of Jared’s tail. He flicks at his brother’s ear with his free hand, trying to shift the now dead weight of his foot. Jared whines petulantly around Jensen’s thumb, eyes fluttering open a sliver. The irises glow dimly under the soot-dark web of his eyelashes, his true nature nestled close to the surface as he sleeps. “You’re hurting me.”

He gives a tug to the reptilian tail may-poled around his leg, grown so thick over the last few years that he can no longer get his hand around it all the way, at least not this close to the base. Jared’s grip eases but doesn’t unravel, the tip moving back and forth over his skin in what would probably be a soothing gesture if Jensen could feel it properly. His dragon-brother sighs unnaturally hot breath against Jensen’s knuckles and works himself backward, closer to the curve of Jensen’s body.

Even in his human skin, Jared’s still more than half animal, both in body and behavior. He has a need for closeness that is nearly obsessive, with any- and everyone he happens to be nearby, but above all toward Jensen, much to his chagrin. It’s impossibly hard to look like a badass with his ‘little’ brother climbing all over him constantly. Everybody’s pretty well used to it by now, but when they’d first started school - a year later than everyone in his class because he had to wait for Jared to be deemed mature enough to bump up to Jensen’s grade - it had been the subject of more than a few attempts to shove them both around. Most of those had stopped pretty fast - people had learned quickly that there’s a reason you don’t mess with dragons.

Jared doesn’t fit in his arms quite the way he used to - fourteen and already as big as Jensen even though he’s two years younger. Which would be pretty impressive if it weren’t for the fact that his other form is the size of an elephant. His brother has been entirely too smug about all of that.

Jensen’s not sure how much more Jared is likely to grow, but he hopes it isn’t much - Jared’s scales are a pain in the ass to look after when they’re molting, even in his human form when he’s got a lot less of them.

The bright drops of metallic never truly go away, standing out most in his human form where the bone is close to the surface; at his jaw and collarbone, hips, knees, shoulder blades, elbows, spine. And the tail is always there, proportional to his human body and relatively unobtrusive when it makes up its mind to stay wrapped around Jared’s leg like it’s supposed to, although generally it seems to prefer to twine around Jensen’s whenever the opportunity presents itself. That’s still a lot of scales to take care of, scrubbing and oiling and ensuring that there aren’t any deformities from spreading too fast with his brother’s semi-constant growth spurt. He understands now why most dragon mothers choose to pair their offspring up with humans; it would be far too much for Jared to handle on his own. Still he can’t help but wonder whether dragon-slave wouldn’t be a more appropriate title for it.

He wonders too if the other Chosen have this much to contend with from their charges or if maybe Jared’s just unusually clingy for a dragon. He’s never met anyone else in their situation, though he knows there are some out there - not many, with the dragon population in such decline, but some.

The problem is that dragons are an old magic, one that hasn’t evolved well with time. They’re the only species on record that relies on a soulmate bond instead of genetic compatibility to breed and with the world’s population getting bigger all the time, it’s become infinitely harder for each of them to find that one special creature to call their own. That’s part of Jensen’s job, part of the reason they get to go to such a specialized school even though Jensen’s just a human - to help learn different languages and customs and skills so that they can strike out after graduation and find whoever Jared’s meant to be with.

Jared’s almost maddeningly blasé about the whole idea - which is pretty damn insulting considering Jensen’s got to give up any chance at a normal life for himself until Jared finds The One - but he’s holding out hope that his little brother will get with the program whenever his freaking hormones finally decide to kick in. Or maybe that’s the real secret behind why dragons are so rare, they don’t have a damn libido.

Although he has to admit, there might be some advantages to that too; it was pretty fucking funny that time Genevieve tried to crawl into Jared’s lap and he just smiled and patted her on the head.

He can’t really imagine what his life would be like without Jared - what it will be like once they manage to find Jared’s soulmate. He can barely remember a time before Jared came into - took over - his life. He’s not even sure who he’d be, what he’d do with himself without Jared around.

His arms tighten around his brother all on their own, prompting another burst of suckling pressure against his thumb before Jared subsides into deep sleep again, the thrumming in his chest, low and content. Jensen presses his face against the silky heat of coppery scales on the back of Jared’s neck and lets the sound lull him back to sleep.

***

“A C+! Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous in your entire life?” Katie rails as they cross into the courtyard for midday break, high shriek echoing off of the flagstones. This is why no one likes to hang out with the banshees.

“Well, you did get the whole section about The Treaty of Five Armies wrong,” Sofia points out entirely unhelpfully. She’s flipping through Katie’s history test, scarlet ink standing out like blood on the proverbial battlefield. The sphinx has her lips pursed over one of the answers, eyebrow raised disapprovingly, but wisely says nothing to Katie about whatever egregious mistake she made on the essay questions. There are some fights you’re never going to win.

Jensen tucks his own test - A+, just because he doesn’t have a supernatural leg up doesn’t mean he can’t keep pace with the rest of the class - into the inside pocket of his school jacket, extracting the remains of crumpled pack of cigarettes, tapping one out and setting it between his lips.

“Jensen!” he hears, loud and joyous, half a second before Jared is crashing into his back, the both of them only keeping their feet because Jared is strong enough to pick Jensen up and hold him in midair. That does not mean that Jensen likes it.

“Damnit, Jay! Put me down!” He kicks fruitlessly, knowing full well that he can’t physically make Jared do anything and exactly zero percent happier for the reminder.

Jensen’s feet haven’t even hit the pavement again before he feels Jared’s tail looping around his thigh, a tall, lanky line of heat pressing against his back. His dragon-brother grins at Jensen, stooping just a little to rest his chin on Jensen’s shoulder, arms slung carelessly around his waist. At least for a moment, and then that dimpled smile is morphing downward into a displeased scowl.

“You said you’d quit,” he accuses, glaring at the unlit cig still hanging from Jensen’s mouth. Crap.

“Quitting, I said I was quitting. Note the -ing,” he grumbles. The last thing he needs is for Jared to tell Mom about this. Again.

Jared snorts, air shimming with heat as it comes out of him. Jensen looks to the girls for some support - Genevieve having bounced up to the little circle they’ve made in Jared’s wake - and finds everyone studiously doing something else, up to and including memorizing the flagstone grout beneath their feet. This shit is why people joke about them being an old married couple.

“C’mon,” he cajoles, “if I do it all at once I’ll go through withdrawl. You don’t want to have to put up with me like that.”

“Yeah,” Jared rolls his color-shifting eyes, “I can’t imagine what a crabby Jensen would be like.” Katie busts out with a coughing fit as if that will cover up the fact that she’s laughing. Like a bitch.

“I swear, I’m working on it, okay? It’s a step down thing.”

“Uh-huh, and what step are you down to today?”

“Um,” Jensen stalls, trying to figure out how far he can push to maximize his nicotine intake without actually pissing Jared off. Getting nagged at in front of the girls is one thing, he does not need Jared hounding him about this in front of other people. “Four.”

“And this is one?” Jared eyes him skeptically, tail flicking agitatedly at Jensen’s shoelace.

Oh damnit, he hates when Jared does the eye-contact thing, now he’s totally going to know if Jensen lies.

With a reluctant sigh he admits, “This is two.”

Jared still looks nonplussed, but he nods anyway, leaning in to press his lips against the tip of the cigarette and blow gently until it smolders.

“Fine,” his brother agrees as Jensen takes his first welcome drag of smoke, “But you’re only getting three.”

“But-“ Jensen starts to argue but the look Jared’s giving him says he ought to take a page from Sofia’s book. He allows himself a pointed groan of disappointment before letting it go - maybe he can talk Jared into an extra after he’s all loose and pliant from Jensen working on that flaky patch of scales on his back. Jared thrums happily at his continued victory over everything Jensen enjoys in life, the vibration echoing through Jensen’s ribs as his brother nuzzles against his neck.

His attention falls back to the girls, no longer pretending not to be paying attention. Instead they’re all staring at he and Jared with this same, slightly dazed look on their face that’s not so unusual for Gen - uncontrollable lust is pretty much part of the package with nymphs - but is a little jarring on the other two.

“What?” he asks, glancing behind him in case there’s some major hotness he’s missing. Nope, just the usual crowd. By the time he looks back around the girls are back to normal, though Sofia is blushing slightly. Gen still looks like she’s debating what sauce to top Jared with when she eats him for dinner. After two years he’d have thought the girl would give up on Jared. Oh well, the heart wants what the heart wants, right? Not that he thinks there’s a lot of heart involved in what Gen’s after.

He taps the ash off the end of his cigarette and covers Jared’s hand on his belly with his own to keep his brother from picking at the buttons.

***

It’s like the start of a bad joke - an imp, and incubus and a were walk into the cafeteria. Jensen really hates the feeling that he’s about to be the punchline. He’s already scowling before Richard, Misha and Chad have even gotten to their table, only noticing the expression because Jared elbows him in the ribs and gives him the 'be nice' eyes. Jensen scowls at him too just for good measure. It’s been two days since Jared found his secret smoke stash and burned it. Jensen is in no kind of mood.

"We're having a party on Saturday," Richard's saying before he even sits down. He dumps his messenger bag next to the chair but it falls over to land heavily on Jensen's foot. Kicking it off earns him a glower he doesn't even begin to feel bad about, particularly when the bricks or whatever the hell Richard's carrying around to make that damn thing so heavy get slammed into Chad's shin. It rapidly devolves into an under the table kicking match, halting only when somebody manages to knock into Jared's tail where it's clinging to Jensen's ankle and his brother hisses violently.

The other three slink back, almost imperceptibly, but everybody's feet end up planted firmly on the floor. Jared's basically the sweetest guy on the planet, except for the fact that he is actually a giant fire-breathing lizard. It comes in really handy when Jensen wants people to back the hell off.

"Sooo," Misha drawls, hitching his hip against the table, "we're having a party on Saturday."

"Yeah, I heard that," Jensen deadpans back. Jared's petting dejectedly at the end of his tail, so Jensen reaches over and threads his fingers into the hair at the nape of Jared's neck where the scales get really tiny and scritches until his brother's eyelashes flutter and the starts to softly thrum.

"And we need girls," Chad adds emphatically, squinting at Jensen. Jensen glances down the line of his own body - tucked uniform shirt, slightly loosened tie, khakis - then over at Jared who, despite Jensen's best efforts, always manages to look like he was dressed by something lacking opposable thumbs by the time the day is halfway over. Still very obviously male.

"You've really got to pay more attention in anatomy, Murray," he says with an eyebrow that he thinks pretty clearly tacks on a ‘fuck off’. Jared only squirts a tiny bit of orange juice out of his nose.

"Bite me, dickwad," Chad growls over Richard and Misha's completely unsubtle snickering.

Before Jensen can pop back with a retort, Richard says, "You guys hang out with three of the hottest chicks in school." Jensen doesn't try to disguise his disgust. Yeah, ok, the girls are hot, no question there, but he's not their pimp, and if he was, he sure as hell wouldn't pimp them out to his friends.

Richard and Misha are cool guys and even Chad is alright - sometimes, when he's unconscious - but they get away with friggin' murder because Richard's dad is the Dean and there's an inherent level of douchiness wrapped up in that. Besides, he's pretty sure they only want the girls to come because they figure at least one of them has a chance with a nymph and everyone who's ever met Chad knows he wants to knot Sophia - like that'll ever happen.

"You have no shot," Jared points out around a mouthful of vanilla pudding, all but reading Jensen's mind. That's really never going to stop being freaky. Still Jensen has to nod in agreement.

"Do too," Misha argues simply, which, with his powers, might actually be true - assuming he breaks school policy and puts a glamour on somebody.

Over the years, Jensen has discovered that dealing with these three is a lot like dealing with Jared - as well as most small children and wild animals - be firm. "We're not bringing the girls."

"Aw, c'mon, Jen, one last hurrah before the end of semester," Richard knocks his shoulder with a playful fist, "It'll be fun."

"It'll be detention from now until we're released for break."

Chad mutters something suspiciously like "Goody two shoes," and Jared's eyes narrow at him. He hears the start of a growl trickle out of Chad’s mouth and Jared is sitting up straighter, body heat getting pronouncedly warmer at Jensen’s side. Just what he needs, a shifter fight to cap off the nicotine jones. At least he’s got to give it to Chad for not backing down, even if Jared could turn him into crispy-fried wolf-pup at ten paces.

Jensen decides to go ahead and call lunch a bust and packs up his tray. He and Jared have a free period before Metaphysical Theory, maybe he'll take Jared out to stretch his wings for a little while. Or a nap. A nap would be awesome.

"Wait, wait, wait," Richard dimension hops - totally against the rules - so he's suddenly standing right in front of Jensen as he makes to dump his tray at the drop off by the door, "I was gonna save this for a surprise, but since you're being a bitch today..." He trails off, a beleaguered sigh passing his lips, but he's grinning all the same. "I can get you a spot in the senior dorms next semester."

From the sparkle in Richard's eye, Jensen's pretty sure the interest shows on his face but he still makes a show of returning his tray while Jared gathers up his books and gives Chad a lingering look of warning before 'accidentally' tipping over Chad's milk carton with a whip of his tail.

"Bullshit," he says quietly, one eye on his brother running a finger around the edges of his pudding cup to make sure he got every last scrap before he give up his tray while Chad curses a blue streak at him.

Richard fixes him with an offended look, hand splayed out over his own chest. "Jensen! I would never! Ok, alright, I totally would, but I'm not - on my honor." And Richard is absolutely full of shit, but he also takes the whole honor thing really seriously, some weird family thing. Richard on his honor is as good as a signed contract and that... that's tempting.

The senior dorms are easily the best in the school, more space, private bathrooms, leniency on curfews so he could take Jared out for a good flight late in the evenings without trekking two miles off of school grounds to avoid everyone and their mother watching. It's really important that Jared gets a chance to shift regularly to make sure he's in peak physical condition in both forms, but it's kind of high pressure when everyone wants to sneak a peek at the fabled dragon so they don't do it as much as they really probably should.

Jensen doesn't even know why he's pretending to think about it. He gives Richard a small nod, enough to make the other's face light up like a fuse catching and he pats Jensen on the back. Jared gives him a confused look as he stacks his own tray and lets Jensen lead them out of the cafeteria but doesn’t say anything. Instead he just works his fingers into Jensen’s belt loop so that they bump up against each other with every step down the empty hall.

***

Jensen is sitting under the shade of a white poplar, thumbing through the text for his Alchemical Processes 102 test on Wednesday and minding his own business when something hard, cold and wet thumps into his lap. He’s completely justified in yelling out in surprise.

Hearing Jared laugh in his head is still weird if he thinks about it because it’s not really hearing at all, it’s more like an impression. Right now he’s not really thinking about it, though; he’s too busy glaring.

Squeak, squeak, squeak! Maybe you’re a were-mouse, Jen! Jared teases, mentally laughing again. His face isn’t really designed to smile when he’s in his larger form, but Jensen still knows his brother’s grinning anyway.

“Shut up, it was a yell,” he grumbles, staring up the twelve and three-quarters feet to Jared’s huge swirling eyes, “And you threw a rock at me!” He plucks the offending stone from his lap, a big mossy wet spot on the thigh of his jeans left behind. Great, now he’s going to have to change before the party.

It’s my treasure! Jared'a tail is actually wagging as he dips his head to nose at the flat stone dangling from Jensen’s fingers with his dainty snout. Both he and the rock are shiny-wet and although Jared’s never really cold, the stone itself is cool enough that Jensen can guess it came from the bottom of the lake a few yards away, its surface still rippling from Jared’s dive-bombing.

Jensen closes his fist as best he can around the rock, slipping it behind his back before Jared can make off with it. “No. No more treasures.”

Jared makes a pitiful sound, eyes as big as Jensen’s palm going wide and pleading. But, Jensen!

“No buts! If you collect any more crap we’re not going to be able to move around the damn room.”

It’s not crap! Jared’s mind-voice snaps indignantly.

“It’s a rock Jared! The only time rocks are treasures are when they’re made of something special - that’s why they’re called precious stones. Go find a bigass diamond and you can keep it.”

It is made of something special! Jensen finds himself suddenly tumbled over onto his side as Jared butts his big wet skull up against him just hard enough to knock him over. His brother nuzzles at the stone now laying on the spriggy, spring grass and croons softly over the sound of scales rasping on water-smoothed granite. Look how pretty it is.

Studying’s a lost cause at this point - clearly Jared’s bored with playing on his own - so he tosses his book half-heartedly in the direction of his backpack before flinging his arms across his face. Why couldn’t he have just gotten a puppy like all the normal kids?

“It’s. A. Rock! A big green rock! The lake is literally made of them!”

Jared snorts at him, a sudden rush of hot air, and again, this form isn’t really designed to allow for eye-rolls - thank heaven for small blessings - but Jensen can feel the sentiment pouring off of him anyway. His brother then promptly rolls over and starts rubbing himself happily against the stone, wings splayed out across the grass to dry. Sometimes he thinks he prefers it when Jared just gives him the finger.

Back in their dorm room, they have at least a dozen random green rocks- Jared has a thing about green - from the bottom of this lake. Jensen would stop bringing him here if it weren’t such a perfect place to get some alone time so Jared can fly around and exercise in private. Funny how when all of those legends talk about dragons being obsessed with treasure, they never bother to mention that it had a lot less to do with actually value than with ‘pretty’ and ‘shiny’. Jared’s kind of the mythological equivalent of a magpie. Or a really shitty thrift store.

The quiet sound of grass rustling alerts him to Jared’s movement before the radiant heat of his huge body moving in close. Aw, it’s ok, Jensen, you don’t have to be jealous, he croons softly as he thinks it, snuffling at Jensen’s side. You’ll always be my favorite rock.

Jensen lifts his arms just enough to glance down at where Jared is slowly rooting his shirt up over his ribs with the tip of his snout, silky scales and soothing hot breaths against sensitive skin. He mumbles, “Not a rock,” but doesn’t actually do much to stop his brother besides twitch and try not to laugh out loud when Jared’s forked tongue swipes ticklishly at his exposed stomach.

I don’t know, Jared drags the words out mockingly, Big, heavy, just kind of lays there. Sounds like a rock to me.

“Oh, that’s it!” Jared’s head is in just the right position that when Jensen curls in around it and knuckles playfully at the broad flat of his forehead he can also hook a leg behind the ruff of spikes at the back of his skull and hold him in place. Jared thrashes enough to drag him across the grass, but not enough to really hurt, not actually trying to get away. Dagger-sharp teeth nip at his tender abdomen in little love-bites that never break the skin.

“See how many belly rubs you get from this rock, huh? Spoiled brat,” he threatens with a grunt, fingers digging into that sensitive spot just behind Jared’s ear ridge, leaving him squirming. Jared lets out a helpless keening sound, but in his head, he’s still laughing.

You love me too much not to rub my belly, Jared argues, tucking his wings safely against his back and rolling so that Jensen’s stomach swoops wildly - who needs roller coasters? Living with Jared would probably be a lot easier if that wasn’t so damn true.

After a few minutes of what could vaguely be called rough-housing - considering Jared’s head is the size of Jensen’s whole freaking torso - Jensen ends up settled down, panting, along the inside curve of Jared’s body, his brother’s tail wound under him like a makeshift mattress, long, graceful neck stretched around so he can use Jensen as a pillow. His jaw rests neatly - the perfect width - on Jensen’s hips, snout just long enough that his breathing warms Jensen’s neck.

He hums a pleased sound when Jensen scratches firmly at the malleable ridges above his eyes, the tremors of it rocking through Jensen’s body as good as any massage. A little adjustment of his hips is required - some people around here have fully functional sex-drives that tend to make their dicks wake up to say hello when something vibrates against them - but then he can relax back into the loose embrace and let his eyes fall closed.

Soon enough they’re going to have to head back to the dorms and get ready - the girls only agreed to go on the contingency that Jensen and Jared ‘escort’ them, whatever that’s supposed to mean - but they have time for a little more relaxation before then.

Maybe Jared hears him thinking about it - his brother swears the mind-hearing thing doesn’t work that way, but Jensen’s not always sure he believes that - or maybe it’s just how in-tune he is with Jensen’s emotions that he can feel the way his stomach clenches with irrational foreboding. Whatever the reason, Jared flickers his tongue out to soothe over Jensen’s cheek supportively. Yeah, he’s a weird kid, but damn if Jensen isn’t crazy about him.

It’s going to be okay, he keeps telling himself. It’s going to be fine; there's no reason for him to feel anxious about this. It's just a party, right? How bad can it be?

***

Really, really bad is how bad it can be. And not even because anybody pulls some particularly stupid shit or they get busted like Jensen was betting they would. No, it's really really bad because at some point the bottle of elf-wine that was getting passed around for the first hour or so ends up on the rug instead with them all sitting around it in a circle. Jensen may have actually had more of a hand in emptying aforementioned bottle than he thought he had, because his brain seems to be time-lagging enough that it doesn't completely register with him what is going on until Misha takes the first spin and ends up with his tongue in Katie's mouth.

Oh. Crap.

Jared's sitting beside him, smiling and bright eyed - irises aqua green at the moment so he's obviously having a good time. As far as he’s ever been able to figure out, Jared can’t get drunk, not even a little. Not that he’s tested the theory often - Jared’s his responsibility and he’s too young for that stuff. Still, being sober is not the same thing as giving consent. His brother’s paying attention in the earnest curious way he gets sometimes because as good a job as he does at faking it, Jared will never actually be human - or as close to it as the rest of their circle is - and there are things about them all, particularly interpersonal things, that he just doesn't get.

By the time Jensen's brain slogs through that, it's Genevieve's turn and she's staring from the bottle to Jared so hard he's pretty sure one or the other is going to explode from the force. They should really get going now - this is not how Jared should have his first kiss. He reaches a hand out to follow through with that plan but Gen's already taking her spin, flashes from the sconces in Richard's over-sized room bending kaleidoscopically on the curves of the bottle. Jensen has the sudden ridiculous urge to fling himself between the glass mouth of it and his brother like it’s a speeding bullet.

Luckily, he doesn't need to because the longneck ends up pointing at Sandy, a pixie from the freshman class. And... um... Jensen sort of forgets why exactly he was going to leave there for a second. Sandy and Gen pressed together is really not an image he's about to complain over.

It goes around the circle, kisses traded every which way; Matt and Kristen, Katie and Richard, Sophia and Chad, Sandy and Richard, Kristen and Richard - ok, Jensen’s starting to think Richard’s got this thing rigged somehow. Then out of left field, it hits him hard enough to turn his stomach upside down - it’s Jared’s turn, and there’s not a good card in this hand.

There is absolutely no one sitting in this circle - no one in this whole school - that Jared ought to be kissing right now; or maybe ever. He’s still a kid for crying out loud! As far as Jensen knows he’s never even had a hard-on - and he’s pretty sure he’d know, what with Jay being his Royal Majesty of Overshare and the fact that they sleep practically on top of one another. He should not be kissing anyone, and he definitely should not be kissing any of these losers. Jensen’s just about to jump in and say exactly that - sure, they’re his friends, but it’s one thing to be good enough to hang out with and it’s another thing to be good enough for his brother to kiss - when he realizes that Jared’s already spun the bottle.

And it’s landed on him.

Oh, he’s really going to murder Richard. Slowly. Painfully. In flamboyant and depraved fashion. The name of Ackles the Imp Crusher shall live on in infamy from this day forward.

The elf-wine was a really bad idea.

Jared just grins at him, completely unperturbed by the fact that according to the rules of the game he now has to kiss his brother. Then again, he’s not entirely sure why he’s surprised - not like Jared has a whole lot of boundaries to begin with.

Ok, well, options. He could call for a do-over, since, you know, incest. Only not really because he and Jared aren’t biologically related, but still pseudo-incest, which is almost as bad. But even assuming that Richard wouldn’t make the friggin’ bottle point at him again, that would mean that Jared would still be kissing one of those other people, which he’s almost positive he already mentally vetoed. Alright so, plan B, he’ll just grab Jared and leave and then have a long, painful conversation about why kissing should be saved for his soulmate or at least until he hits thirty or…

Jared’s already kissing him. Damn, that elf-wine was a really, really bad idea.

Jared’s mouth is soft and supple and so obviously clueless about what the hell he’s doing that it’s kind of endearing. If kissing your brother could be considered endearing, which he really doubts it can. And wow it’s hot. Temperature hot, not, you know, any other kind of hot. Which it isn’t. Moreso when Jared pushes his tongue out and touches it to Jensen’s lips and Jensen gasps - yes, a gasp, that’s why he opened his mouth - and it slides inside. It’s smooth and slick and at least twice as warm as it should be, just like everything else on Jared and it tastes like nothing else ever has. Like, if right had a flavor, it would be the inside of Jared’s mouth.

That’s about the time that Jensen realizes that he’s sort of feeding on his brother’s lips like a starving man, the tingle in his tongue from the deep, pleased hum in Jared’s chest and the sweltering heat against his thighs from Jared’s palms resting there. Jensen pulls away with something embarrassingly close to a chirp, crab-walking a couple of inches backward across the floor for some much needed space.

Everyone’s staring, not that Jensen can really blame them - they were probably putting on a hell of a show just now. He’s either had way too much to drink for this or not nearly enough and he honestly hasn’t got a clue which it is.

Jared’s glowing. The eyes are the most noticeable, swirling blue-green-amber lanterns with a dark slice of pupil running through the middle, but it’s under his scales too, metallic finish burnished from some internal light, spreading golden across his skin like water seeping into cloth. His t-shirt and jeans are smoking, ready to burst into flames as his body superheats like he’s about to shift any second. And that definitely shouldn’t happen indoors - even with the extra square footage of Richard's room, this place was not made to handle something as big as Jared can get. Not that Jared seems willing to listen to that completely valid point because he's too busy crawling across the little bit of space Jensen put between them to look down on him menacingly. Hungrily.

Jensen may be riding a little too hard on booze and the flash fire endorphins that have replaced the blood in his veins, but he doesn't have a chance to second guess it, just does the only thing he can think of when Jared starts to lean in again, lips parted.

He slaps him. Like a girl.

"Ow!" Jared claps a hand - still mostly a hand, even if his nails are a serious upholstery hazard at the moment - to the assaulted side of his face. He's still glowing weirdly, but that pout is all Jensen's brother. Adoptive brother. Oh fuck, this is the creepiest thing that has ever happened.

Naturally, it's Chad who breaks the bow-string silence. "What the fuck was that?!"

The rest of the circle erupts into a flurry of mumbled gossip - this is going to be all over the school in two hours’ time - while Misha and Gen scramble over each other to get to the bathroom first - Misha wins, yelling "Eat it, Cortese" through the door while Genevieve pounds on it furiously - and Jensen really doesn't want to think about what either of them needs private time for right now.

Luckily, it’s a moot point because Jensen can't think, can't fucking breathe, needs to get the hell out of Richard's room before Jared shifts and they've got an incendiary ship-in-a-bottle situation on their hands.

He almost trips when he manages to get his feet under him, Jared's tail twined around his ankle hard enough he's probably going to have patterned bruises. He jerks his brother along with him, practically drags him across the floor not that Jared seems to perturbed by it. In fact, he doesn't really seem to be all there at the moment at all.

About halfway down the stairs Jared at least starts walking of his own accord - probably a survival instinct since Jensen is not even close to being above hauling his ass all the way back to their dorm bodily if he has to - the unearthly light inside of him slowly dimming while Jensen himself still feels aflame with the guilt and shame of it.

Once, as their taking a shortcut through the topiary gardens, Jared tries to say something, but Jensen doesn't know or want to know what it is and cuts him off with a curt, "No!" Jared doesn’t make another peeps the whole way back. It may be some kind of world record.

The sound of their own door closing behind them is one part relief, two parts heart-clenching fear. How the hell does he even explain this? How the hell is he even supposed to start? You just… you just don’t kiss your brother, not even your adoptive brother, and especially not when you’ve been personally chosen to take care of him and help him find his soulmate. It’s wrong on so many levels Jensen may need to make a chart or something to fully express it. And then there’s the fact they did it in front of everybody, as if there weren’t already enough rumors and sideways glances suggesting that he was doing Jay dirty. And of course there’s-

“Jensen?” Jared voice cuts through his train of thought like a knife through butter, “I don’t feel right.”

Immediately every other worry flies out of his head like they just developed wings, all of his focus and concern narrowing down to Jared. Jared, who’s standing beside the closed door, shoulders hunched, arms and tail wrapped tightly around himself as though that’s all that’s holding him together.

Jensen’s next to him in three strides, one hand stroking the mess of his bangs back from his face, the other settling gingerly on his arm. His skin is barely lukewarm.

Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Maybe… maybe he’s sick or, or somebody slipped him something. Except Jared’s never been sick a day in his life and there’s nothing he’s ever heard of that can drug a dragon. Oh God, what if it’s… No. Somebody would have told him if kissing someone who wasn’t his soulmate could hurt Jared, right? That’s kind of fucking important information, surely someone along the line would have mentioned it at some point. But fuck, the timing’s awfully convenient. Goddamn Richard, Jensen really is going to murder that bastard if Jared comes out of this with so much as a papercut.

Jared shivers and lurches forward against him, arms and tail instantly trying to squeeze the life out of Jensen. The skin of his cheek pressed against Jensen’s temple is too cold, almost clammy, cool breaths ruffling through Jensen’s hair. They need a doctor or, or a sorcerer or, hell, a vet; just fucking something, anything. Jensen doesn’t know what to do, can’t move with Jared holding onto him like this, can’t even breathe, panic igniting his lungs.

Blood is roaring in his ears, almost covering the sound of his own whispered chant of, “Be okay, please be okay, just stay with me, please, I need you.” It’s enough that he doesn’t make out the crackling sizzle of fabric catching fire until the smoke tries to turn his lungs inside out.

Instinctually he pulls back to check Jared over. It’s a struggle with Jared still holding on for dear life, but he manages to put just enough space between them to see what’s left of the front of Jared’s shirt smoldering and curling to ash before it slides off of his body completely. His jeans - cut specially to allow for his tail - are thicker but he can see where the heat has made holes in the cloth, revealing random snatches of unmarred flesh and glistening scales. It doesn’t makes sense because Jared’s not nearly hot enough to the touch for this, but it’s happening right there in front of Jensen’s eyes. He doesn’t even realize his own clothes burned away too until he feels the shocking cool of Jared’s tail winding around his bare thigh, a bright gilded swath against skin so overheated it’s nearly fuchsia.

“What’s happening?” Jared murmurs, tight and afraid, eyes almost whirling as the color in his irises oscillates.

“I don’t know,” Jensen croaks back, frenzy threatening to close his throat. His heart is kicking at his ribs hard enough to bruise and his feet are sliding through a sticky mess that he realizes after a quick glance down is what’s left of the rubber from his tennis shoes. His shoes have melted. He’s melted his shoes.

For a moment that seems to drag on for a year or two, they just stand there staring at one another helplessly, the heat coming off of Jensen’s naked body - Jensen’s, not Jared’s; what the fuck? - turning the air hazy. Then, too fast for Jensen to even react, Jared’s eliminating the bit of space separating them again, every inch of his body flush with Jensen’s; hip to hip, chest to chest, mouth to mouth.

Now that he knows it’s there, Jensen can feel the little licks of flame as what’s left of Jared’s pants catch fire, more like soft breezes whispering against his skin than true heat. And maybe it just proves that at some point tonight Jensen went insane that that’s where is mind goes first because he’s pretty much totally failing to deal with the fact that they’re both naked right now and pressed up against each other, let alone that he’s got Jared’s tongue shoved somewhere around his tonsils.

Jared kisses exactly like Jensen would have guessed, if he’d ever bothered to think about it before - exactly the same way he does everything; unrestrained and wide open and learning way too fast for his own good. He sucks eagerly at Jensen’s lips, fingers threading in his hair, down to his chest, his hips then back up to start it all over again. When he pushes in tight, skin still cool compared to Jensen’s, the thick, steel-hard length of his cock presses into Jensen’s hip and Jensen nearly chokes to death on both of their tongues at once.

He has never once in his entire life seen or even thought about another guy’s dick and had ‘yes!’ ring through his head but that’s all he can think suddenly, the only thing in the world he wants. His body surges forward, swamped with need, his own rapidly filling hard-on shoved roughly against the satiny bumps of Jared’s scales. He’s swimming in heat, in friction, in that fucking perfect taste from the inside of Jared’s mouth and somewhere in the back of his mind he’s aware that there’s a very small part of him saying that it’s wrong and he shouldn’t do this, but it’s so easy to ignore that when Jared’s tail uncurls from around his leg and instead nudges up behind his sac with just the right pressure.

“We’ve gotta- we can’t-“ he manages to mumble out around Jared’s constantly moving mouth before he gives up on conveying whatever half-formed idea he had about not setting their beds on fire and just tugs until they’re laid out flat on the ancient flagstone floor.

Jared spreads out gorgeously underneath him and he has a flash of a moment to wonder why it never occurred to him how perfect Jared would be like this before his dragon-brother rumbles a growl and bites at Jensen’s lips with his too-sharp-to-be-human teeth. It makes precome well out of him so heavily he can feel each pulse of it dragged straight from his balls.

Even if Jensen had enough experience to have learned a little finesse - if he’d ever had time to do more than get to first base with a girl, let alone a guy, before Jared got bored or attention-needy and showed up to wreck things - he still probably wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing with it from the way just touching Jared like this is screwing with his head. Add to that the fact that he got the slinky, tantalizing smoothness of Jared’s tail slithering up the back of his leg, lighting his nerves up and he never stood a chance.

The pressure of Jared’s extra appendage sneaks between the cheeks of Jensen’s ass, dexterous tip prodding at his hole. He’s not sure if it’s more confusing how that makes his dick leap and his body arch back into the pressure or how Jared even thought to do it, even knew about that concept. Clearly they need to be having some discussions about the class of people Jared’s hanging around with when he’s not with Jensen and what exactly they’re teaching him. Later. Much.

The pressure is gone almost as fast as it appears and instead Jensen feels the broad, laddered scales of the underside of the tail moving against that sensitive, untouched place in a relentless slide that leaves him shivering despite the way that his skin is about to crisp up from the inferno raging inside of him. The tip of it - copper and gold meeting at a delicate, glinting point - appears over his shoulder, flirting for just a moment with wrapping around his neck - it’s not long enough to really manage it in this position, but that doesn’t stop the idea from being added to the soon to be massive list of things that never turned him on before but now do - before Jared leans up just enough to take it into his own mouth and suckle.

Were Jensen to have anything vaguely resembling control over his own body at the moment, that would probably ruin the rhythm of the filthy grind he’s working their cocks together with. It’s hands down the most obscene thing he’s ever witnessed; the stretch of Jared’s lips as he strains up to take more of the tail - his own fucking tail - into his mouth, the indecent pink of the inside of his mouth against the metallic scales, the single glossy strand of saliva that connects the tip of it to his tongue for a moment as he starts to pull away, leaving the nimble appendage slippery-wet. Fortunately, Jensen has no such control whatsoever, so his body keeps right on doing its thing while he tries to convince his brain that playing that image on a loop for the rest of eternity would be problematic. For some reasons. He’ll think of them eventually.

Way too late in the game, it hits him what all of that slicking up was about and the whole argument becomes pointless because his eyes aren’t seeing anything but the back of their sockets anymore. Between the shape of it and the wetness, Jared’s tail breaching his hole is more of a non-sensation than anything, at least until the width builds up and the ends starts to crook and curl inside of him. The rest of it curves down to push at that place behind Jensen's balls again and writhe against the inside of his thighs, every little bit of smooth-rough contact too much and not enough. Fuck, it’s so messed-up and so good that he loses all semblance of a tempo and just fucks at Jared’s skin haphazardly, relying on hope and luck to get them both off because if he doesn’t he’s pretty certain that he’s literally going to die.

Jared’s rubbing up against him; face and hands and every available inch of skin, somehow resistant to the level of bizarre heat Jensen is putting out - so damn much like every time he’s ever touched Jensen in his life and so fucking different too. There’s something mixed up in that thought that feels like it would be some sort of revelation if it wasn’t for the fact that his brain is a melted mass of goo sloshing around the inside of his skull. Some day in the distant future when he relearns how to think, Jensen will try to remember to mull it over.

He bites at the jut of Jared’s collarbone - skin warmer now, he notes absently - trails a lick up from it to Jared’s earlobe. His brother moans wantonly, fingers digging in hard enough against his back for inhuman nails to break skin, but his tail twitches at the same time and finds a spot inside of Jensen that makes every muscle in his body spasm at once, so it’s hardly like he cares. Right now he can’t even believe that anything could hurt him anyway, this overwhelming strength flowing through his veins like that unnatural warmth and it just makes him push harder; licking and sucking and biting with the need to leave his own marks on Jared’s body.

Jared’s scales feel heavenly, inside and out, and his skin is velvety, begging to be touched by fingers and lips and tongue. And Jensen will, wants to, needs it - he’s always given Jared everything else, why not this too? Why not? Why didn’t he ever see it before?

A hard knot of pain-pleasure has replaced his cock and molten lead is bubbling at the base of his spine like mercury waiting to rise. His lips find their way back to Jared’s, opening up to swallow the otherworldly growls and keens coming out of him right along with quieter moans and whimpers. Somebody would probably come check on all the racket, but with Jared, everyone’s used to it by now, just another part of going to school with a magical creature. Jensen doesn’t really care right now - let them come, let them see, show them what they can’t ever have.

Their dicks push together, soaked with precome and sweat, too slippery to do anything but slide around between their bellies. Jensen worms a hand between them and manages to get a grip around both hard, fever-hot lengths, his hand barely big enough to do anything with them and yet still ridiculously good with how turned on they both are.

“Jensen,” comes out a plea, frantic and uncertain enough that it drags his focus away from the stilted stroke of his own fist and the smooth push-pull of Jared’s tail still teasing at his insides with the entry-code to heaven. Jared’s eyes are almost all color, the iris bleeding outward like when he shifts and glowing from within with that same pulsating light. They also look scared-stupid behind their heavy lids and Jensen gets it, just like that. He wasn’t wrong earlier - Jared’s never done this before, never had his body tap into this drive, and now that it is, the mounting pleasure seems terrifying. Jensen can sympathize.

“It’s okay,” he shushes, balancing on the forearm of his free arm so he can flutter soft kisses against Jared’s lips. Feebly, Jared tries to reciprocate, their aim stuttering off track when neither of them seems to be able to really stop fucking against each other. It feels like the air should be hissing as it touches Jensen’s skin, oxygen burning away just from the contact. His entire being is trembling with the intensity of it.

The sharp upward curve of Jared’s body is so sudden Jensen is almost knocked off balance, white-blind for a moment when Jared’s tail nails that spot again and doesn’t let up, muscles contracting in something that looks so much like pain it almost scares Jensen. But Jared’s coming as he does it, warm thick splashes over Jensen’s fist and his stomach. Beautiful. Maybe the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and it’s all for him. Jared’s very first orgasm and it’s Jensen’s to keep forever.

That’s all it takes to get him there too, the image of Jared’s face softening into bliss seared permanently into his mind. Floundering, he loses himself in the backdraft, turned to ash by rough, relentless pleasure. Gentle brushes all over telling him that Jared’s still with him, grounding him with firm points of contact that keep him real.

When he comes down - truly comes down, enough to actually open his eyes and remember his own name - he’s pressing Jared flat to the floor, his brother’s arms around him, relaxed but secure, fingering warm caresses into Jensen’s skin. The air smells like hot stone and his body’s still clutching swollenly at the empty space inside of him where Jared’s tail was. A normal person wouldn’t be able to breathe under this kind of weight, but Jared doesn’t meet that qualification on either count so he’s just taking Jensen’s bulk like it’s a soft blanket as his heartbeat steadies under Jensen’s ear.

Jensen’s temples throb dully with every easing pulse of his own blood, blunt pain muted out around an exhaustion that seems to creep right out of his bones like shadows at sunset. There are things he’s supposed to say or ask or worry about - panic, he remembers being panicked - but they slip through his grip like smoke on the wind. He’s so tired and Jared’s so warm, thrumming a soothing, pleased sound deep in his chest. It feels right, all of it, and the last thing he remembers for a long while is the sensation of Jared’s tail wrapping around both of their legs, binding them together.
On to Part Two