Snippet time
I'm itching to post something but I have nothing ready so here you go, a few Jsquared teasers.
Unnamed emo!Jensen/insightful!Jared fic
(In where Jensen has too many secrets to count and Jared figures him out.)
Jared’s got a girlfriend, Sandy. Jensen tends to forget that sometimes since she’s living in LA and doesn’t really come up to Vancouver that often. Her existence is like mass on Sundays and his soul’s inevitable eternal damnation, easy to ignore until shoved in his face. He’s listening to Jared talk over the movie on TV, watching the way his lips move and wondering what they would feel like, pressed up against his, when the phone rings and whatever stupid fantasy world he’s living in bursts like a bubble of soap.
Jared stands up from the couch, laughing sweetly into the phone as he disappears into the kitchen, leaving Jensen with a cold spot next to him on the couch and an even colder one in his heart. Fuck.
This is why he doesn’t get close to people. Especially not people like Jared. Good, decent, beautiful, sexy people. People who have girlfriends and are as straight as they come.
“Stop it,” Jared laughs in the kitchen, voice low and warm. “I can’t. Not now, baby. Jen’s here. Later, ok?” He groans. “Not fair. Don’t… The pink one? Really? Jeez, you’re killing me.”
This is when Jensen should stand up and tell Jared he’s gotta go home - tired and early morning and all that bullshit - so Jared can have phone sex with his girlfriend. He doesn’t. He stays on the couch, staring blindly at the TV until Jared comes back, cheeks flushed and eyes shining with everything Jensen’s aching for.
“Sorry about that,” Jared says and flops down on the couch. He spreads his legs, and the obvious bulge in his pants makes it clear to Jensen what exactly it is he’s sorry about and his stomach twists.
‘Sorry you’re here, ruining my special time with my girlfriend. Sorry it’s you, not her, sitting on this couch. Sorry I’ve got to wait until you go home before I can call her back and finish what we started.’
Well, contrary to Jared, Jensen’s not a nice guy, and he’s not going home for a long while yet. “Don’t worry about it,” he responds, all casual and oblivious. “How’s things in LA?”
“Hot.”
Jared throws him a smirk and Jensen pretends not to notice.
“Yeah?” he says instead and sips his beer. “Bet you’d rather be there than here,” he then adds because he’s a damn masochist and maybe hearing Jared saying it flat out will stop his dick (heart) from being so goddamn stupid.
Jared sits silent for a while and when Jensen risks a glance over he finds Jared watching him.
“Not really,” he says, voice too soft and eyes too damn kind. “I’m feeling good right here, right now. This?” He indicates the room with a sweep of his hand, lingering at last on Jensen. “This is good.”
Jensen snorts even if he feels elevated with sudden happiness. “Simple things please simple minds,” he says and hands Jared the bowl of popcorn.
“Yep. Beer, snacks and good company,” Jared agrees and grabs half of what’s left in the bowl with one of his huge hands. “Don’t need much more.”
Jensen snorts again but this time he can’t help the grin spreading across his face. “You’re a cheap date, Jare.”
“I always put out on the first night too,” Jared says and stuffs his mouth full, the loud sound of him chewing drowning out the hitch in Jensen’s breath.
Unnamed AU Jared/Jensen fic
(In which Jensen is a dad with a bitch of an ex-wife and Jared is the broke college student working at Jensen's daughter's daycare and Chad is his room mate.)
“You haven’t had sex in over a year, man. And you haven’t had…” Chad lifted his hands, crooking his fingers. “…“gay” sex like ever.”
Jared rolled his eyes, grabbing his own jacket from the hook by the door. “You know, gay is actually a real word. You don’t have to “airquote” it,” he said, mimicking Chad’s stupid gesture.
“Whatever. Besides, until you fuck someone in the ass you’re not really gay.”
Jared briefly fought the urge to hit Chad over the head, but really, giving in was so much more satisfying.
“Ow, what the fuck, man?”
Jared gave him a pointed look. “It’s not a sex thing, asshole. It’s… It just is, ok? And I am. Trust me, I am.”
“I still say it’s just your brain frying from having sex with Sandy. Dude, she was hot. Why the hell did you ever break up with her?”
Seriously, how many times had Chad’s mom dropped him on his head? “Gay, remember? That kinda makes the whole girlfriend thing inappropriate.”
And later....
He rolled his eyes and pulled on the t-shirt. Snug was putting it mildly. More like it was painted on him. And short enough to show off his belly button. “Oh man. I look ridiculous! I can’t wear this!”
“Stop complaining. You look cute.”
She grinned and then turned on her heels, heading for the tiny kitchen facility. Just then Jared heard the front door slam shut and he peeked out. Little Marie was struggling to pull off her boots without pulling her thumb out of her mouth. It wasn’t going too well and Jared couldn’t help smiling as she frowned in annoyance. She was quickly becoming his favourite, mostly because she reminded him so much of his little sister when she was this age. He was gunning for her approval even more than from the others and it was starting to depress him how badly it was going. He wasn’t used to people not liking him. And to be feared like that, even by a two year old, was not something he could let go.
He glanced down at his t-shirt. Marie did have a thing for pretty horses… It was worth a shot.
“Hey,” he said and walked cautiously out of the Refuge and toward her.
She looked up, her eyes widened, and then she was screaming at the top of her lungs, “Daaaaddaaa!”
“Whoa!” He reached for her, sighing when she skittered away. “Hey, it’s okay. Sweetie, don’t be scared.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Jared jerked away from the child currently trying to crawl under the wooden bench along the wall and looked up, meeting a pair of very angry green eyes glaring at him.
“Who are you? Get the fuck away from my daughter!”
“What? No! Nonono! I work here! I’m… I’m Jared. I work here! Seriously.”
The man eyed him suspiciously. “Then why is she so afraid of you?”
Jared blinked. “Erm… Because I’m big and scary and they all seem to think I’m a monster?” He ran his fingers through his hair, which made the t-shirt scoot up his stomach. Damn. He tugged it down desperately. “I’m not. I swear.”
“Never seen you before,” the man growled and bent down to fetch little Marie from under the bench. “Come here, sweetheart. It’s alright.”
“I just started a few days ago. I’m… Look, I’m sorry. It’s not like I scare them on purpose. I’m just… big.,” he finished lamely. He tilted his head, puppy eyes in full mode. “Marie, it’s Jared. Remember Jared?”
“No,” she said stubbornly and hid her face in her father’s shirt. “Dada.”
Her ‘dada’ gave Jared a pointed look.
Jared took a deep breath. “Ok. Ok. Sophia?” he said as loud as he dared. “Need some help here.”
She came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “What’s a matter? Oh, hi.” She smiled at the man whose scowl diminished somewhat. “Something wrong?”
“This man works here?” Marie’s dad asked, nodding his head toward Jared.
Sophia raised her eyebrows at Jared and then shrugged. “He’s trying. So far he spends most his time crouching on the floor.” At Jared’s glare she grinned. “Well, you do.”
He opened his mouth to protest but then sighed in defeat. “Yeah, I do.” He turned to the man and put out his hand. “Jared Padalecki. Nice to meet you.”
The man scowled at him a moment longer but then he relaxed and shifted the child in his arms before accepting Jared’s outstretched hand. “Jensen Ackles. Marie’s dad.”
They shook hands. Jensen’s grip was firm, his fingers slender and strong, and Jared swallowed. Even if he towered over the man by a good four inches, Jensen Ackles, with his piercing green eyes and clenched jaw, wasn’t someone he’d like to meet in a dark alley. Sure, he was handsome enough, in a serial killer kinda way, but how on earth he had fathered such a sweet beautiful child as Marie was a mystery. His wife must look like an angel, Jared concluded.
As if reading Jared’s thoughts Jensen let go of his hand and stepped back, looking him over with a scowl as he clutched Marie tighter, her face buried in his neck. His gaze fastened on Jared’s chest, eyes widening slightly and then suddenly his face broke into the most glorious smile, instantly throwing all of Jared’ earlier thoughts out the window. Oh, Jensen Ackles was deadly alright, no doubt about that. Jared was feeling quite faint already.
“Like unicorns, do you?”
Jared could feel himself turning beet red and he tugged at the t-shirt, trying to make it reach his jeans. “There was an accident. A coffee accident. I…”
“No, no. No need to explain. I’m sure they’re fascinating creatures,” Ackles said with a smirk that made Jared’s stomach flop, then turned to his daughter. “Hey, sweetie. Look, unicorn! Your favourite!”
She turned her head slightly, one eye glancing at Jared. Then she suddenly straightened up and smiled, one chubby finger pointing at Jared’s t-shirt. “Ucon,” she said happily. “Ucon.”
What A Guy Needs. Jensen's POV to Whatever Makes Him Happy.
(This is only half a dozen pages yet so it's bound to change. A lot.)
Sometimes he stares at himself in the mirror and wonders if maybe they’re the ones that are right and he’s wrong. Maybe something did happen to him when he was too small to remember and that’s why he’s so screwed up now. Stuff like that happens all the time with people suddenly thirty years later remembering being abused as kids and that’s why they turned into rapists or child molesters or whatever.
He tries to imagine anyone in his family doing that, abusing him, and the thought is too ridiculous to carry on any further. Seriously, his dad can’t even discipline the damn dog and Jeff was too busy chasing girls to have time to do anything with his little brother, much less molest him. And really no dead relatives or old uncles come to mind either.
Besides, no matter what anyone else says, this… thing, it doesn’t feel wrong or bad. It doesn’t feel sick. Not to him. It feels… right. It feels good.
He lets himself slide off the couch and lies out flat on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Just thinking about it has his blood buzzing, the need like thousands ants crawling under his skin. He curls his hands into fists, fingernails digging into the palms. It barely registers. He thinks about standing up and walking into the bedroom. Maybe get out one of his ties and loop it around his neck, then tie it to the headboard. The thought makes him shiver and he lets one hand slide under his t-shirt and up his chest until he reaches a nipple. He rubs it between his fingers then suddenly pinches it, hard. The sharp and sudden pain brings tears to his eyes and he blinks to clear his vision before slowly moving on to the other one. Another pinch and he can feel his dick hardening in sync with his heart picking up speed.
Despite what Danneel thinks, what any of them think, his therapist included, he’s not ashamed of it. That’s not it. He’s not embarrassed by the fact that he likes to be dominated, it’s not like he’s alone in the world with that particular kink. He can easily tell a girl that he likes it rough, after all he picks the ones he can tell are wildcats in the sack. They grin and lick their lips and then scratch up his back and bite his ears while he fucks them. It’s cute, if mildly frustrating that that’s as far as they will go.
No, he’s not ashamed that he wants that. Nothing wrong with wanting something.
But that’s just it, he doesn’t just want it. He needs it. Not all the time, thank God, or he’d be insane by now. But sometimes… Sometimes, like right now, he needs it so badly he’s shaking, heart beating frantically in his chest as he claws at his own skin, fingers locking around his own throat.
‘C’mon, c’mon,’ he thinks, his other hand tugging hard at his dick, now sticking out of his jeans. ‘Fuck, c’mon!’
His fingers are those of a stranger, the hand jerking him off belonging to someone else. That’s the only way it works, putting his imagination into overdrive and trying not to think of how stupid he must look.
‘Harder, c’mon,’ he thinks and the stranger in his head slaps him for his impatience. Yes.
“Please. Please, just… Please,” he hisses through his abused throat. “I’m sorry. Just… I need…”
“Shut up.”
His own voice echoes in the silent room, breaking the spell and he growls in frustration as the stranger disappears from his head and all there’s left is his own pathetic self, close to tears with the need to come. He bangs his head against the hardwood floor, hard enough that his vision whitens. Hard enough that it gets him over the edge.
When he can see again his head is throbbing with pain and his hand, stomach and underwear are sticky with quickly cooling come. He shivers and pulls his hand free, wiping it clean on his t-shirt. He can feel the cold setting in, the earlier rush of adrenaline through his veins having drained him of all energy. He stumbles to his feet and into the bathroom. There are red fingerprints around his neck but they will fade before tomorrow. His nipples are still hard and swollen and it hurts to touch them so he does. Strokes them gently as he stares at himself in the mirror. His lower lip is bruised from where he bit it. There’s a handprint on the right side of his face that tells him he didn’t just imagine that slap, he acted it out without even realizing. It surprises him, that he did that. That he even imagined it. He’d thought since Brian… It’s a relief, really. Maybe it means he’s finally getting over that incredibly stupid period of his life.
His legs are shaking when he steps into the shower and he leans his forehead against the wall as the warm water washes over him. The back of his head stings and when he touches it there’s a bump there, the skin split in one place. Shit. No wonder he almost passed out.
He turns his head, laying his aching cheek against the cool tiles. ‘Fuck you, Brian,’ he thinks.
“Fuck you, Brian, you sadistic bastard,” he suddenly says out loud and the sound bounces off the walls, making him flinch. Fuck. It’s been three years and still he keeps turning around, expecting to find Brian looming over him, fingers grabbing his hair and pushing him to his knees. “Fuck you.”
At least with girls he has the strength to fight back if they are too stupid to figure out the difference between rough sex and… and…
“Fuck you, Brian,” he repeats, weakly. “Fuck you very much.”
‘Just the way you asked me to, sicko’ Brian says smugly in his head. ‘Don’t lay this on me, man. You told me to hurt you and I did. Not my fault you freaked out.’
“Never asked for that, you fucking shit,” he says, louder this time. “It’s not the same. You’re the sick one, not me.”
He growls at how shaky his voice is. If Brian were here, he’d laugh his head off. Of course, if Brian actually were here there’d be no shaky insults to laugh at. A concussion had taught him as much. The second one had taught him that it was time to leave.
“I never asked you to do that,” he whispers. “I didn’t. I didn't.”
Another emo!Jensen fic
(In which Jensen drunk-dials Jared and says more than he should.)
“You want to watch a movie?” Jared asks when he’s dumped the empty containers in the trash.
“Sure.”
Jensen seems drained but the wariness is gone from his eyes and he looks almost peaceful.
“Or we can talk,” Jared suggests quietly. He expects Jensen to stiffen but he just stares at the TV for a moment and then nods.
“Yeah. That would be good.”
Jared sits back down on the couch, figuring it will be easier to talk if they’re not facing each other, but to his surprise Jensen turns and plants his feet in Jared’s lap, eyes studying him thoughtfully.
“There have been times I thought you knew,” he then says, face flushing slightly. “I mean, you would look at me and…” He shrugs. “And you kept touching me, like all the time. But then I realized you do that with everyone.”
“Not everyone,” Jared says lamely. “Not… Eric.”
Jensen chuckles. “No. Not Eric. But that’s just because he looks scared to death every time you try.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Jared averts his eyes, absently rubbing Jensen’s toes between his fingers. “Look, I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything. It wasn’t like that.”
“I know.”
“I mean, even if I’d known you were gay, or bi, whatever, I probably would have been just the same.”
“I know, Jare.”
“And you’re wrong, it’s not the same with everyone. You’re not everyone, Jen. You’re… special.”
Jensen snorts and Jared smiles. “Shut up. I mean it, you are. If it hadn’t been for this gig we never would have met.” Another snort and Jared flips Jensen a finger. “Ok, so we probably would have met at some point, being in the same business and all, but we might never have gotten to know each other the way we do.” He takes a deep breath. “And that kinda scares me. Because I can’t really imagine my life without you.”
He glances up at Jensen but Jensen is busy studying his hands, rubbing his thumb and index finger together in small circles. It’s a habit he has when he’s nervous, usually during interviews or when girls hit on him. That he’s doing it now, because of Jared… It’s just not right.
“This… gay thing, it doesn’t change that,” Jared says gently. “Nothing could change that, Jen. You know that, right?”
Jensen nods, nibbling at his lips. “Yeah,” he finally says, his voice low and hoarse. “Yeah, I know. Now. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure before but now I am.”
I hope that tickled someone's fanny fancy.
Unnamed emo!Jensen/insightful!Jared fic
(In where Jensen has too many secrets to count and Jared figures him out.)
Jared’s got a girlfriend, Sandy. Jensen tends to forget that sometimes since she’s living in LA and doesn’t really come up to Vancouver that often. Her existence is like mass on Sundays and his soul’s inevitable eternal damnation, easy to ignore until shoved in his face. He’s listening to Jared talk over the movie on TV, watching the way his lips move and wondering what they would feel like, pressed up against his, when the phone rings and whatever stupid fantasy world he’s living in bursts like a bubble of soap.
Jared stands up from the couch, laughing sweetly into the phone as he disappears into the kitchen, leaving Jensen with a cold spot next to him on the couch and an even colder one in his heart. Fuck.
This is why he doesn’t get close to people. Especially not people like Jared. Good, decent, beautiful, sexy people. People who have girlfriends and are as straight as they come.
“Stop it,” Jared laughs in the kitchen, voice low and warm. “I can’t. Not now, baby. Jen’s here. Later, ok?” He groans. “Not fair. Don’t… The pink one? Really? Jeez, you’re killing me.”
This is when Jensen should stand up and tell Jared he’s gotta go home - tired and early morning and all that bullshit - so Jared can have phone sex with his girlfriend. He doesn’t. He stays on the couch, staring blindly at the TV until Jared comes back, cheeks flushed and eyes shining with everything Jensen’s aching for.
“Sorry about that,” Jared says and flops down on the couch. He spreads his legs, and the obvious bulge in his pants makes it clear to Jensen what exactly it is he’s sorry about and his stomach twists.
‘Sorry you’re here, ruining my special time with my girlfriend. Sorry it’s you, not her, sitting on this couch. Sorry I’ve got to wait until you go home before I can call her back and finish what we started.’
Well, contrary to Jared, Jensen’s not a nice guy, and he’s not going home for a long while yet. “Don’t worry about it,” he responds, all casual and oblivious. “How’s things in LA?”
“Hot.”
Jared throws him a smirk and Jensen pretends not to notice.
“Yeah?” he says instead and sips his beer. “Bet you’d rather be there than here,” he then adds because he’s a damn masochist and maybe hearing Jared saying it flat out will stop his dick (heart) from being so goddamn stupid.
Jared sits silent for a while and when Jensen risks a glance over he finds Jared watching him.
“Not really,” he says, voice too soft and eyes too damn kind. “I’m feeling good right here, right now. This?” He indicates the room with a sweep of his hand, lingering at last on Jensen. “This is good.”
Jensen snorts even if he feels elevated with sudden happiness. “Simple things please simple minds,” he says and hands Jared the bowl of popcorn.
“Yep. Beer, snacks and good company,” Jared agrees and grabs half of what’s left in the bowl with one of his huge hands. “Don’t need much more.”
Jensen snorts again but this time he can’t help the grin spreading across his face. “You’re a cheap date, Jare.”
“I always put out on the first night too,” Jared says and stuffs his mouth full, the loud sound of him chewing drowning out the hitch in Jensen’s breath.
Unnamed AU Jared/Jensen fic
(In which Jensen is a dad with a bitch of an ex-wife and Jared is the broke college student working at Jensen's daughter's daycare and Chad is his room mate.)
“You haven’t had sex in over a year, man. And you haven’t had…” Chad lifted his hands, crooking his fingers. “…“gay” sex like ever.”
Jared rolled his eyes, grabbing his own jacket from the hook by the door. “You know, gay is actually a real word. You don’t have to “airquote” it,” he said, mimicking Chad’s stupid gesture.
“Whatever. Besides, until you fuck someone in the ass you’re not really gay.”
Jared briefly fought the urge to hit Chad over the head, but really, giving in was so much more satisfying.
“Ow, what the fuck, man?”
Jared gave him a pointed look. “It’s not a sex thing, asshole. It’s… It just is, ok? And I am. Trust me, I am.”
“I still say it’s just your brain frying from having sex with Sandy. Dude, she was hot. Why the hell did you ever break up with her?”
Seriously, how many times had Chad’s mom dropped him on his head? “Gay, remember? That kinda makes the whole girlfriend thing inappropriate.”
And later....
He rolled his eyes and pulled on the t-shirt. Snug was putting it mildly. More like it was painted on him. And short enough to show off his belly button. “Oh man. I look ridiculous! I can’t wear this!”
“Stop complaining. You look cute.”
She grinned and then turned on her heels, heading for the tiny kitchen facility. Just then Jared heard the front door slam shut and he peeked out. Little Marie was struggling to pull off her boots without pulling her thumb out of her mouth. It wasn’t going too well and Jared couldn’t help smiling as she frowned in annoyance. She was quickly becoming his favourite, mostly because she reminded him so much of his little sister when she was this age. He was gunning for her approval even more than from the others and it was starting to depress him how badly it was going. He wasn’t used to people not liking him. And to be feared like that, even by a two year old, was not something he could let go.
He glanced down at his t-shirt. Marie did have a thing for pretty horses… It was worth a shot.
“Hey,” he said and walked cautiously out of the Refuge and toward her.
She looked up, her eyes widened, and then she was screaming at the top of her lungs, “Daaaaddaaa!”
“Whoa!” He reached for her, sighing when she skittered away. “Hey, it’s okay. Sweetie, don’t be scared.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Jared jerked away from the child currently trying to crawl under the wooden bench along the wall and looked up, meeting a pair of very angry green eyes glaring at him.
“Who are you? Get the fuck away from my daughter!”
“What? No! Nonono! I work here! I’m… I’m Jared. I work here! Seriously.”
The man eyed him suspiciously. “Then why is she so afraid of you?”
Jared blinked. “Erm… Because I’m big and scary and they all seem to think I’m a monster?” He ran his fingers through his hair, which made the t-shirt scoot up his stomach. Damn. He tugged it down desperately. “I’m not. I swear.”
“Never seen you before,” the man growled and bent down to fetch little Marie from under the bench. “Come here, sweetheart. It’s alright.”
“I just started a few days ago. I’m… Look, I’m sorry. It’s not like I scare them on purpose. I’m just… big.,” he finished lamely. He tilted his head, puppy eyes in full mode. “Marie, it’s Jared. Remember Jared?”
“No,” she said stubbornly and hid her face in her father’s shirt. “Dada.”
Her ‘dada’ gave Jared a pointed look.
Jared took a deep breath. “Ok. Ok. Sophia?” he said as loud as he dared. “Need some help here.”
She came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “What’s a matter? Oh, hi.” She smiled at the man whose scowl diminished somewhat. “Something wrong?”
“This man works here?” Marie’s dad asked, nodding his head toward Jared.
Sophia raised her eyebrows at Jared and then shrugged. “He’s trying. So far he spends most his time crouching on the floor.” At Jared’s glare she grinned. “Well, you do.”
He opened his mouth to protest but then sighed in defeat. “Yeah, I do.” He turned to the man and put out his hand. “Jared Padalecki. Nice to meet you.”
The man scowled at him a moment longer but then he relaxed and shifted the child in his arms before accepting Jared’s outstretched hand. “Jensen Ackles. Marie’s dad.”
They shook hands. Jensen’s grip was firm, his fingers slender and strong, and Jared swallowed. Even if he towered over the man by a good four inches, Jensen Ackles, with his piercing green eyes and clenched jaw, wasn’t someone he’d like to meet in a dark alley. Sure, he was handsome enough, in a serial killer kinda way, but how on earth he had fathered such a sweet beautiful child as Marie was a mystery. His wife must look like an angel, Jared concluded.
As if reading Jared’s thoughts Jensen let go of his hand and stepped back, looking him over with a scowl as he clutched Marie tighter, her face buried in his neck. His gaze fastened on Jared’s chest, eyes widening slightly and then suddenly his face broke into the most glorious smile, instantly throwing all of Jared’ earlier thoughts out the window. Oh, Jensen Ackles was deadly alright, no doubt about that. Jared was feeling quite faint already.
“Like unicorns, do you?”
Jared could feel himself turning beet red and he tugged at the t-shirt, trying to make it reach his jeans. “There was an accident. A coffee accident. I…”
“No, no. No need to explain. I’m sure they’re fascinating creatures,” Ackles said with a smirk that made Jared’s stomach flop, then turned to his daughter. “Hey, sweetie. Look, unicorn! Your favourite!”
She turned her head slightly, one eye glancing at Jared. Then she suddenly straightened up and smiled, one chubby finger pointing at Jared’s t-shirt. “Ucon,” she said happily. “Ucon.”
What A Guy Needs. Jensen's POV to Whatever Makes Him Happy.
(This is only half a dozen pages yet so it's bound to change. A lot.)
Sometimes he stares at himself in the mirror and wonders if maybe they’re the ones that are right and he’s wrong. Maybe something did happen to him when he was too small to remember and that’s why he’s so screwed up now. Stuff like that happens all the time with people suddenly thirty years later remembering being abused as kids and that’s why they turned into rapists or child molesters or whatever.
He tries to imagine anyone in his family doing that, abusing him, and the thought is too ridiculous to carry on any further. Seriously, his dad can’t even discipline the damn dog and Jeff was too busy chasing girls to have time to do anything with his little brother, much less molest him. And really no dead relatives or old uncles come to mind either.
Besides, no matter what anyone else says, this… thing, it doesn’t feel wrong or bad. It doesn’t feel sick. Not to him. It feels… right. It feels good.
He lets himself slide off the couch and lies out flat on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Just thinking about it has his blood buzzing, the need like thousands ants crawling under his skin. He curls his hands into fists, fingernails digging into the palms. It barely registers. He thinks about standing up and walking into the bedroom. Maybe get out one of his ties and loop it around his neck, then tie it to the headboard. The thought makes him shiver and he lets one hand slide under his t-shirt and up his chest until he reaches a nipple. He rubs it between his fingers then suddenly pinches it, hard. The sharp and sudden pain brings tears to his eyes and he blinks to clear his vision before slowly moving on to the other one. Another pinch and he can feel his dick hardening in sync with his heart picking up speed.
Despite what Danneel thinks, what any of them think, his therapist included, he’s not ashamed of it. That’s not it. He’s not embarrassed by the fact that he likes to be dominated, it’s not like he’s alone in the world with that particular kink. He can easily tell a girl that he likes it rough, after all he picks the ones he can tell are wildcats in the sack. They grin and lick their lips and then scratch up his back and bite his ears while he fucks them. It’s cute, if mildly frustrating that that’s as far as they will go.
No, he’s not ashamed that he wants that. Nothing wrong with wanting something.
But that’s just it, he doesn’t just want it. He needs it. Not all the time, thank God, or he’d be insane by now. But sometimes… Sometimes, like right now, he needs it so badly he’s shaking, heart beating frantically in his chest as he claws at his own skin, fingers locking around his own throat.
‘C’mon, c’mon,’ he thinks, his other hand tugging hard at his dick, now sticking out of his jeans. ‘Fuck, c’mon!’
His fingers are those of a stranger, the hand jerking him off belonging to someone else. That’s the only way it works, putting his imagination into overdrive and trying not to think of how stupid he must look.
‘Harder, c’mon,’ he thinks and the stranger in his head slaps him for his impatience. Yes.
“Please. Please, just… Please,” he hisses through his abused throat. “I’m sorry. Just… I need…”
“Shut up.”
His own voice echoes in the silent room, breaking the spell and he growls in frustration as the stranger disappears from his head and all there’s left is his own pathetic self, close to tears with the need to come. He bangs his head against the hardwood floor, hard enough that his vision whitens. Hard enough that it gets him over the edge.
When he can see again his head is throbbing with pain and his hand, stomach and underwear are sticky with quickly cooling come. He shivers and pulls his hand free, wiping it clean on his t-shirt. He can feel the cold setting in, the earlier rush of adrenaline through his veins having drained him of all energy. He stumbles to his feet and into the bathroom. There are red fingerprints around his neck but they will fade before tomorrow. His nipples are still hard and swollen and it hurts to touch them so he does. Strokes them gently as he stares at himself in the mirror. His lower lip is bruised from where he bit it. There’s a handprint on the right side of his face that tells him he didn’t just imagine that slap, he acted it out without even realizing. It surprises him, that he did that. That he even imagined it. He’d thought since Brian… It’s a relief, really. Maybe it means he’s finally getting over that incredibly stupid period of his life.
His legs are shaking when he steps into the shower and he leans his forehead against the wall as the warm water washes over him. The back of his head stings and when he touches it there’s a bump there, the skin split in one place. Shit. No wonder he almost passed out.
He turns his head, laying his aching cheek against the cool tiles. ‘Fuck you, Brian,’ he thinks.
“Fuck you, Brian, you sadistic bastard,” he suddenly says out loud and the sound bounces off the walls, making him flinch. Fuck. It’s been three years and still he keeps turning around, expecting to find Brian looming over him, fingers grabbing his hair and pushing him to his knees. “Fuck you.”
At least with girls he has the strength to fight back if they are too stupid to figure out the difference between rough sex and… and…
“Fuck you, Brian,” he repeats, weakly. “Fuck you very much.”
‘Just the way you asked me to, sicko’ Brian says smugly in his head. ‘Don’t lay this on me, man. You told me to hurt you and I did. Not my fault you freaked out.’
“Never asked for that, you fucking shit,” he says, louder this time. “It’s not the same. You’re the sick one, not me.”
He growls at how shaky his voice is. If Brian were here, he’d laugh his head off. Of course, if Brian actually were here there’d be no shaky insults to laugh at. A concussion had taught him as much. The second one had taught him that it was time to leave.
“I never asked you to do that,” he whispers. “I didn’t. I didn't.”
Another emo!Jensen fic
(In which Jensen drunk-dials Jared and says more than he should.)
“You want to watch a movie?” Jared asks when he’s dumped the empty containers in the trash.
“Sure.”
Jensen seems drained but the wariness is gone from his eyes and he looks almost peaceful.
“Or we can talk,” Jared suggests quietly. He expects Jensen to stiffen but he just stares at the TV for a moment and then nods.
“Yeah. That would be good.”
Jared sits back down on the couch, figuring it will be easier to talk if they’re not facing each other, but to his surprise Jensen turns and plants his feet in Jared’s lap, eyes studying him thoughtfully.
“There have been times I thought you knew,” he then says, face flushing slightly. “I mean, you would look at me and…” He shrugs. “And you kept touching me, like all the time. But then I realized you do that with everyone.”
“Not everyone,” Jared says lamely. “Not… Eric.”
Jensen chuckles. “No. Not Eric. But that’s just because he looks scared to death every time you try.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Jared averts his eyes, absently rubbing Jensen’s toes between his fingers. “Look, I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything. It wasn’t like that.”
“I know.”
“I mean, even if I’d known you were gay, or bi, whatever, I probably would have been just the same.”
“I know, Jare.”
“And you’re wrong, it’s not the same with everyone. You’re not everyone, Jen. You’re… special.”
Jensen snorts and Jared smiles. “Shut up. I mean it, you are. If it hadn’t been for this gig we never would have met.” Another snort and Jared flips Jensen a finger. “Ok, so we probably would have met at some point, being in the same business and all, but we might never have gotten to know each other the way we do.” He takes a deep breath. “And that kinda scares me. Because I can’t really imagine my life without you.”
He glances up at Jensen but Jensen is busy studying his hands, rubbing his thumb and index finger together in small circles. It’s a habit he has when he’s nervous, usually during interviews or when girls hit on him. That he’s doing it now, because of Jared… It’s just not right.
“This… gay thing, it doesn’t change that,” Jared says gently. “Nothing could change that, Jen. You know that, right?”
Jensen nods, nibbling at his lips. “Yeah,” he finally says, his voice low and hoarse. “Yeah, I know. Now. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure before but now I am.”
I hope that tickled someone's fanny fancy.