all bloody and wild (J2 au, nc-17, 5k)
For annabeth_fics for salt_burn_porn, for the prompt for [his] lips were the colour of roses. Big love to atimi and lazy-daze, who were wonderfully inspiring, except I apparently went off and wrote something else instead. And wow, this really is something else. <3 Unbeta'd and unameripicked.
Self-indulgent porn with vampire!Jared/younger!Jensen, which even Stephenie Meyer might cringe to have written. But I had fun! Title from Nick Cave's Where the wild roses grow. ♥ ♥ ♥
All bloody and wild
(J2 au, nc-17, 5k, bloodplay, rimming, possible underage and first-time)
The picture on the crappy TV in the motel room flickers intermittently with static. It doesn’t matter to Jared. His vision has been swimming in and out of focus for days now. The last time he moved from the bed was when the angle of the sunlight made it through the gap in the drapes, and his burning skin gave him the impetus. He stinks, his mouth is dry and his head is throbbing, and he doesn't know how much longer he can last.
He's trying so hard. So. Very. Hard.
He daydreams. He lets himself imagine feeding off the people walking around on his TV, because it's safe, and because he's too weak to be dangerous. Hunger puts the ghost-taste of blood in his mouth, drips it down his dried-out throat and makes his belly ache with its goodness, until he's smiling stupidly at the sensation.
The tinny drone of voices on TV dribbles away, and the room dips into darkness.
A shadow passes by outside his window, feet scuffing the ground.
Lost in delirium, Jared imagines his teeth coated in blood, the corners of his mouth overflowing with it, and the slow throb of a heart beating in time to the roll of his throat, the weight of a life sliding between his lips.
Someone knocks on the door.
Jared starts. The blood in his mouth is his own; he's bitten down on the inside of his cheek. Trembling, he swallows dry, and it hurts, like grinding metal together. He pushes himself into a sitting position on the bed, and the room rattles around him, crashing in close and swinging away again.
There's another knock at the door, followed by, "Jared, I know you're in there. Let me in. C'mon, man. Let me in."
It's such a beautiful sound that Jared almost believes it's not real. He hopes it's not real. Because he's trying so very hard to be good, and the universe owes him one.
But the universe hates him. "Jared, I'm not going away," says Jensen, just the other side of the door, in the sunshine and fresh air.
Pathetic as he is, Jared's dick twitches. He can smell Jensen's blood, smell it throbbing away, hot and slippery, just under the skin of that soft, biteable little body. He squeezes his eyes shut, presses the heel of his palm to the bulge of his cock, and tries to level out the sudden hard panting of his breath.
"I know you're in there! I can hear the TV, moron. Come on, open the door. Let me in. Please."
He's begging. He's a tender little cut of meat, offering himself up, putting himself in Jared's lap, saying, eat me, c'mon, take what you want. you don't have to be hungry. rip me open and taste me. please. please.
Jared keeps his eyes closed, but his whole body's shaking on the bed, trembling with repressed instinct, with want. He just needs to be strong a little longer. Just keep quiet and still, and Jensen will give up and go away. Little Red will decide that the Big Bad Wolf is not at home today, and will get the fuck away.
Jensen abandons knocking on the door in favor of hammering on it. Stubborn bastard, with his mouth that'd look so pretty stuffed with dick, and his apparent desire to get fucked to death.
"Jared! Open the damn door!" He's shouting. He's going to bring the motel manager down on them both, and the last thing Jared needs is people in this backwater town wanting to know why the local pastor's teenaged son is making visits to the motel rooms of shunned drifters. That would really make his slow suicide suck even more.
It takes more strength than Jared realized he had left to get himself up off the bed and over to the door. Moving is like trying to push through deep water. His legs are weighted down, while his head's so dizzy it feels like it's flying away. His hand is shaking as he lifts the chain and cracks the door open. He flinches instantly at the sunlight, ducking backwards and propping himself up against the doorframe.
Jensen stares up at him, angry and upset. Then his eyes go wide. "Jesus, Jared. Jesus."
Jared smiles thinly, cards his fingers through his lank hair. "I know. Not my hottest look." He was beautiful the night he met Jensen. So fucking beautiful it'd been easy to lure Jensen back to his room. In his current state, he doubts begging would have got Jensen here. His smile drops. He's tired, and he wants it to be over, and he can't deal with Jensen, and these needful things Jensen makes him feel. "You shouldn't be here. I told you not to come. I don't wanna hurt you."
"I think I'd take you dying pretty badly," says Jensen. His jaw's firmed up, like the pretty little fucker's ready for a fight. Jared can't give him one. "Let me in."
He rubs his face on the arm he's bracing against the doorframe, because Jensen makes his eyes burn, like sunlight burns his skin. "No. Go away. Just… go very far away."
"Make me," says Jensen. And he shoves Jared in the shoulder, not hard, but Jared's legs are wobbly already, and he topples backwards into the room. He tries to catch himself on the end of the bed, fails, and drops on his ass on the floor.
For a moment, Jensen's outlined in black in the doorway, bigger and badder than he really is, and when Jared cringes away, he doesn't know if it's the sunlight or Jensen he's hiding from. Jensen swings the door shut, drops his schoolbag at the foot of the bed, before coming in close to Jared. Hiding his eyes behind his hand, Jared can only hear Jensen, smell him, crawling towards Jared on his knees to settle in front of him. Jensen touches his face lightly, fingertips butterfly-kissing his cheekbone, and Jared jerks away, hurt and scared and hopeless.
"Jared," says Jensen. His voice is quiet with concern. "Jared. When did you last feed?"
Jared turns his head away, still hiding.
"You don't look good, Jared," says Jensen.
Insistent, he pries Jared's hand away from his face, and they look at each other in the bronze of the afternoon half-light, the TV still chattering and laughing in the corner of the shabby room. Jared's gaze meets Jensen's liquid green eyes, catches on the pink sweetheart bow of Jensen's worry-bitten mouth, then tracks helplessly to the fluttering pulse in Jensen's throat.
Jensen's lips move, and Jared hears the words, louder than the whisper they are.
"Let me help."
Jared groans. His eyes slam shut. His dick is treacherously hard between his legs; Jensen would be so sweet in his mouth, sweeter than anything he'd tasted before, all that innocence and sharpness. He allows himself to imagine it, because he's not going to let it happen. Blind with frustrated need, so desperate he lets himself touch when he knows he shouldn't, Jared clutches at Jensen's hand, wraps it up in his own.
"Go back to your mommy and daddy. Don't come here again. I'll only hurt you." He strokes the delicate skin between Jensen's fingers, musters up a smile when he realizes Jensen's watching him. "C'mon, you're making me sound emo, and you know I don't do emo. I'm an upbeat kind of guy. An upbeat monster that wants to drink you dry." He lifts Jensen's hand to his mouth, kisses the knuckles, then has to release it when his mind turns to sucking, nipping. Biting. "Please. Just go."
Jensen's still close. Too close. Jared can't figure out how Jensen can be looking at him like that, like Jared's still worth looking at. And if there's one thing worse than the 'murderous inhumanity' of the vampire gig, it's the self-loathing, self-pitying angst.
After a moment longer studying Jared, Jensen shimmies his shoulders and shrugs his jacket off. It gives Jared a real good view of his slender white collarbone, and Jared's mouth waters, gaze narrowed in on exactly where on the smooth skin and fragile splinter of bone he'd bury his teeth. Like he doesn't notice the sudden daze in Jared's eyes, Jensen leans in, curls his fingers in the hair at the back of Jared's neck. It's a caress, which becomes a handhold. He coaxes Jared towards him, angles his own head away, and pushes Jared's face into the soft, intimate crook of his neck.
The smell of his skin makes Jared's head spin. Clean and warm, smelling like school and grass and the tangy sweetness of cheap soda, and that thicker smell of teenage boy, just a little dark. And it's years since Jared was a kid, but it all comes rushing back to him: sunlit classrooms, and passed notes written in glitter pen, and music on the radio. Jensen grips Jared's head there, forces him to breathe him in, hand tight in his hair. Jared's own hand twitches, and it comes up slowly, like it's waking up, crawls up Jensen's back, feeling out the lithe musculature of his body, settles between his shoulder blades.
"C'mon," Jensen mutters, and he rubs Jared's mouth against his bared neck, arching into him. "C'mon. Do it."
Numbly, Jared's lips part. The swipe of his tongue over the juncture of Jensen's neck and shoulder makes Jensen shudder, and his hand on Jensen's back flexes in reflex. Jensen's pulse is held down under the tip of Jared's tongue, beating frantically under his mouth. Through Jensen's chest, pressed to Jared's, Jensen's heart is thrumming like a trapped thing, like it's trying to escape right into the cage of Jared's hollow ribs.
"Jensen. No. Don't. Jensen, stop." Jared says, but it's weak, and he's mouthing at Jensen's pulse in between each protest.
Jensen pushes right into him, forces Jared's mouth open around his throat, fierce and not backing down. "Do it. Do it. Do it."
Tears blur Jared's vision. His gums ache as his fangs slice through the flesh, slide down to pinprick Jensen's skin. They rest there, the vibration of Jensen's pulse traveling up them, each beat hitting Jared like a brand new thought.
Then Jared bites.
Jensen makes a noise, high and hurt, his body jerking towards Jared like Jared's got him on a hook. His hand at the back of Jared's head clenches, tighter and tighter in Jared's hair, and it would be painful, but Jared's all caught up on the sweet, slick spread of flesh under his mouth, the sudden rush of rich heat between his lips. Sensation is overwhelming him, his awareness narrowed to the gnawed-open slipperiness of Jensen's throat, parting for him so easy and slutty.
"Jared… God…" says Jensen, on a short rush of breath.
His body is awkward in Jared's arms, angled and taut, and Jared scoops him closer, hauls him into his lap. Wrenching Jensen's head to the side, Jared draws his fangs out of the flesh, the sound of it is sticky and rough, and the open wound is dark, obscene on the pale skin. He gasps for breath, his head pounding like oxygen's getting through to him again, then he presses back in, just an inch or so higher, and there's blood wet against his chin as he drinks. He guzzles Jensen's blood, barely aware of the sick, grunting noise of his mouth on Jensen's flesh, and his broad hand on Jensen's back keeps Jensen where he wants him.
It's good. So very good. Just like he knew Jensen would taste.
And Jensen, Jensen's wrapped his arms around Jared's neck, his head, and he's pressing his body into Jared's, needy little rocking of his hips, and it takes Jared a moment to realize how damn hard Jensen is. Jensen's stiff dick is tight against his jeans, and he's spreading his thighs wide around Jared's middle to hold him there, getting himself off while he lets Jared maul his throat. Jared pulls his mouth off Jensen's flesh long enough to enjoy the sounds Jensen's making, small whorish grunts that sound punched out of him with each buck of his hips.
Jared crushes his mouth to Jensen's, destroys Jensen's pretty little mouth with brutal kisses and tongue-fucking and too much biting. He grips the back of the waistband of Jensen's jeans, jerks him flush to his own body, and ruts with him on the filthy floor of the motel room. The kiss is breathless and hard, soon bloody and wet as well, and when Jared pulls free, Jensen neck lolls backwards. Eyes a glint of green behind heavy-lids, he's got a junkie's smile, dazed and blissed-out, and his mouth is painted rosy-red with his own blood.
"Love you," says Jensen. And he's never said that before. Jared's willing to bet he's never said that to anyone. He's still so young. Which is so good, because the idea of some pimply-faced jock putting his hands on Jensen makes Jared all kinds of crazy.
There's no weakness left in him. The motel room's too small for him, too small for the drumming of stolen blood in his body. He needs whole continents to spread out in, but there's still that need, that imperative, to fit himself inside Jensen, who's small and tight, even when he opens himself right up for Jared.
Jared surges upwards and forwards, gathering Jensen into a writhing, easy armful, and slams him into the wall. The room shakes under the impact, the TV juddering forward on its stand, and Jensen makes a noise like bones are breaking inside him, but his legs wrap instantly back around Jared, thighs sleek and strong against Jared's hips. Jared twists again, slams Jensen's back into another wall. This time, the TV topples right over, smashes on the floor, but Jensen's tight against Jared, swollen and shiny lip pinned between his teeth, and his fingers tugging at Jared's hair.
Kissing Jensen is as much of a rush as feeding from him, and when Jared's too fierce, rips Jensen's fat lower lip on his fang, they share the taste of Jensen's blood between them, and it's even better. Every so often, in between finding new patches of skin to kiss and bite open, Jared catches sight of Jensen, and he gets a little harder, feels a new rush of excitement, because Jensen's the prettiest combination of blood and green eyes and fever-flush on white skin. Every vampire's wet dream.
"I'm gonna fuck you," says Jared, like it's a warning. Maybe it should be, because Jensen looks a little scared, but he nods, and Jared nods right back at him, final and firm. Then he notices that there's a puncture on Jensen's shoulder still bleeding freely, and he ducks in to lap it up greedily. And Jensen's hand on his head holds his mouth there.
He drops Jensen on the bed, wishes he'd sprung for a better room, wishes he hadn't tried to die in the bed, so that he could offer Jensen something better. Not like Jensen cares though. He reaches up for Jared, hands as clingy and clumsy as a child's. His t-shirt's drenched in blood, and Jared has to peel it off his body, like oil off water. He's about to discard the t-shirt, just throw it away, but the sodden material reeks of Jensen's blood, and he presses it to his face, smothers himself in it. Then he lets it drop, because there's still Jensen, and still plenty of his blood, laid out on the bed for him.
He strips Jensen's jeans off in one quick tug, then dives between Jensen's thighs, and he doesn't know where to put his mouth first. Jensen's fingers are in his hair again, tugging and pulling, impatient and spoiled and desperate for whatever Jared's going to do to him. With one slick slip of his mouth, Jared takes Jensen's hard cock between his lips, drawing his fangs back and pressing his mouth down until the head is nudging the back of his throat - and Jensen's squirming, and going oh! oh! oh!, like he's surprised - and then pulls off. Jensen's dick slaps his flat little belly, wet with Jared's saliva and faintly marked up with the blood Jared's tracking all over Jensen's body, like the stamp of his kisses.
The skin on the inside of Jensen's thigh is beautiful. Flawless as polished china. Jared grips Jensen's ankles and opens his legs wider, pulls Jensen around on the bed so he can get in close at that perfect-pretty skin. Jensen stinks of sex, and the blood smells richer, and Jared's mouth is watering again, even though he's blood-drunk already. He licks his lips, and he's close enough that it makes Jensen shiver. When he glances up at Jensen's face, Jensen's watching him. He's beautiful and bloody, savaged neck bleeding merrily all over the cheap pillowcase, and he's holding himself so still for Jared, waiting.
Carefully, Jared traces the needle-sharpness of the point of one fang over Jensen's thigh, tongue chasing the line of sleek muscle. It's not hard enough to break the skin, just enough to make Jensen whimper, and shift his hips fretfully. When his lips touch the skin, Jared groans, eyes sinking shut. His hand claws into the sharp notch of Jensen's hipbone, though Jensen's making no move to get away, and his other hand grips Jensen's ankle to hold him spread.
When Jared bites, Jensen's dick jerks, a trickle of precome leaking onto his stomach. His muscles go tight, and Jared can feel the flex beneath his lips. His mouth fills with Jensen's blood quickly - too quickly? Jared wonders - and he swallows fast, drinks as much of it as he can, but there are still scarlet lines running down Jensen's leg, soaking into the sheet beneath them. He smoothes his tongue over the punctured flesh, and it’s as copper-sweet as the rest of Jensen, slick in his mouth and drying tacky on his face and neck.
He changes the angle of Jensen's body again, easily dragging Jensen's hips this way or that over the bed to get him where he wants him. He shuffles closer, and his knee ends up in something wet, which turns out to be a puddle of Jensen's blood. The idea of soaking the bed in Jensen's blood, of fucking his emptied out body on sheets that stick to them both, brands itself in his brain, and he knows what he'll be thinking about the next time he jerks off. Jensen's been his jerk-off material since the first time he met him, but now he won't have to imagine what his blood tastes like, won't have to paint the picture of how pretty he is when he's taking Jared's cock and bleeding out in his mouth.
"I'm gonna fuck you," Jared says again, and it's not a warning this time: it's a simple statement of fact, a plain acknowledgement of what's about to happen.
"Yeah," says Jensen, voice just above a whisper, like he's been awed into silence.
It's that hushed little voice that drags Jared's eyes back up to Jensen's face. He loves Jensen so fiercely it's as much of a monster as the need for blood is. He can't say it, can't force the words out, because Jensen's so lovely in all that blood, an eager and nervous little virgin, and all he wants is Jared, any way he can have him.
Jared presses a kiss to the bruised, sloppy wound on Jensen's thigh, then nudges back, searching out Jensen's hole between the hot, clenched cheeks of his ass. As Jared's tongue flutters over the tiny hole, Jensen makes another of those surprised noises, and his legs twitch, like maybe instinct's got him trying to press his thighs closed. But Jared's huge shoulders and strong hands hold him open, and the next time he licks him, the sound Jensen makes is sweeter, happier. So Jared stabs the tip of his tongue inside, grins against the curve of Jensen's ass as Jensen nearly comes off the bed.
He takes his time opening Jensen up, working his tight little asshole with his tongue, bathing it and fucking it, until Jensen's whining and writhing, fingertips digging into Jared's scalp as he tries to ride Jared's face. Jared wants to put his mouth on Jensen here after he fucks him, he wants to lick his own spunk out of Jensen's fucked-open hole, he wants to fill Jensen up with his come, like he's filled himself up with Jensen's blood, and then he wants to eat it all back out of him.
Jensen's hole quivers when Jared finally pulls away. It's shiny and wet, and waiting for Jared to stretch it wide around his cock. He crawls back up Jensen's body, kissing and nipping as he goes, and Jensen's flushed and panting when they're face to face. Jared kisses him again, and Jensen tries to turn his face away from it, and it's adorable, that Jensen thinks it's too dirty to kiss Jared after Jared's tongue has been up his ass. Jared kisses him anyway, kisses him until Jensen gives in to it and sucks on his tongue.
Carefully, as though he has to go slow to make sure his hand doesn't wobble, Jensen touches his thumb to the corner of Jared's mouth. He brings it back red-wet. He studies his own blood from Jared's mouth like he doesn't quite get it, like he's trying to understand the big deal. Then he meets Jared's eyes and smiles again, bares his neck again.
Their bodies fit together neatly. Jared tucks himself behind Jensen, reaches between them to undo his jeans and push them down. The tip of his dick pushes against the small of Jensen's back, smearing the skin wet and sticky. His t-shirt is damp with sweat, and it sticks to Jensen as Jared plasters himself to the curve of his spine. Jensen's easily wrapped up in Jared's bigger body, head bowed forward and his bare skin trembles all over with the jackrabbit beat of his heart.
"So beautiful," Jared tells him, smoothing his palm over Jensen's haunch, before he tips him forward just a little, coaxing Jensen's top leg up, so that he can work his cock up against his licked-open hole.
It's slick and tight, and Jared pushes so gently, so carefully, nudging inside, and watching Jensen's hole strain to take him. He fastens his mouth to Jensen's slippery shoulder, brings his arm around Jensen's waist to hold him in place, and he pushes. He pushes in, and a round, unshaped sound pushes out of Jensen's mouth, cuts off when Jared puts his teeth back in his flesh, sucks blood to the surface and into his mouth.
Jared keeps pushing, holding Jensen's hot, shivery body, as he works his way deeper. Jensen's ass clings to him, too tight to let him in and too tight to let him pull out. It's so good Jared has to stop every now and then, to keep himself from coming too soon, before he's buried inside Jensen where he wants to be. He savors the taste of Jensen's blood on his tongue, and the sweat-sticky rub of their flesh together, and finally, his balls brush into the dip of Jensen's asscheeks.
Jared's pushed all up inside him, filling his mouth with Jensen's blood, and Jensen's tucked in at his side, stuck squirming on his dick. And Jared can’t believe he wanted to die this morning.
He fucks Jensen slowly and deeply, his cock never leaving Jensen's body, and the belt buckle of his pushed-down jeans biting red into the back of Jensen's thighs with each thrust. By the time Jared's done with him, there's not going to be an inch of Jensen's skin that's not marked up.
His hand on Jensen's belly tells him how drum-tight Jensen is, and Jensen's a tall kid, and well built for his age, but Jared keeps expecting to feel the head of his dick prominent under his palm. Then Jensen's hand settles on top of his, sweaty fingers sliding together, and Jared stops biting him long enough to kiss his cheek, and to let Jensen twist his neck enough to catch his mouth in a messy kiss.
"Jared," says Jensen. His eyes are wide, painfully green against his white skin. "Jared, I -"
He can't say it. He was out of his head earlier, but it's all too real now. The thick shove of Jared's cock up his ass gives Jensen too much sharp clarity, and he can't say the words. But Jared melts all the same. He kisses Jensen's bloodstained mouth, swallowing up Jensen's cry as he rocks his dick up hard inside him.
Me too, he wants to say.
His hand fumbles for Jensen's cock, lets Jensen fuck up into the circle of his fist. Mouthing Jensen's neck, he encourages him with the rhythm of his own thrusts, snapping Jensen's hips forward with the force of his own body around his. The headboard of the bed knocks the wall over and over, but right now, Jared doesn't care who finds him in bed with the pastor's boy. He's in love with him, and he'll tear the head off the first person to try to pull him off Jensen.
Jensen comes in messy white spurts over Jared's hand, and Jared tells him how beautiful he is, and how good he feels around Jared's dick, and how he's gonna take care of Jensen. And then, because words just don't cut it, don't do justice to what Jared feels for Jensen, he jams his teeth back in Jensen's throat, cuts new holes and latches on to a fresh rush of blood, and he drinks and he drinks. Drinks while he pumps Jensen full of his come.
:::
Afterwards, Jensen sleeps. Passes out, maybe.
Jared doesn't need to sleep. He feels powerfully alive.
The state of the motel room makes Jared grin. No way is he getting his deposit back. He stands the TV back up on its stand, for all the good that does, and gingerly picks up the shards of glass from the broken screen, dumps them in the trash. There's a picture knocked askew from the second time he bounced Jensen off the wall, and Jared straightens it back up, pulls back to study it, then adjusts it a little more. Luckily, Jensen's schoolbag escaped the rampage, because Jensen'd be pissed if his schoolwork or something got messed up. No use telling the teacher a vampire did it in the middle of some rough sex, 'cause that just wouldn't fly.
Jared darts a fond look back at Jensen, and he notices Jensen's discarded t-shirt on the floor by the foot of the bed. He picks it up, shakes it out, and hopes he's got something for Jensen to wear instead that won't arouse his parents' suspicions when he goes home.
Then Jared looks at the t-shirt again. Really takes in the sheer amount of blood on it. There's so much blood on it, it hasn't even started to dry.
Something cold settles in his belly, right on top of the thick sweetness of Jensen's blood. He crosses to the bed, feeling jittery and scared, and looks at Jensen. He's pale. Too pale. His freckles are standing out in a way they shouldn't. And the bed is soaked under him.
Jared carefully tilts Jensen's neck to the side, and Jensen's head lolls like his spine's been taken out. The sight of Jensen's throat makes Jared catch his breath. It's a mess. It's a mass of purpling-black bruises, and dried blood. Jared's mauled him. He doesn't quite dare touch Jensen, but he needs to find a pulse. Jensen's warm, and his eyelids flutter as Jared puts his fingertips on the fucked-up flesh and presses 'til he finds a beat.
Not dying then. Not this time.
The way Jensen's lying, Jared can see his own come glistening between the cheeks of Jensen's ass and on his thighs, the red scrapes his belt buckle's left on Jensen's legs. He doesn't want to see what he's done to the inside of Jensen's thigh. It's too much. Covering Jensen's body with his marks had been hot when he was high on blood. He's a little more sober now, and he thinks he might be sick, but it'll be black with Jensen's blood.
He wants to be angry with Jensen for letting him do this, for offering himself up when Jared told him to stay away. And he is. But not angry enough to stop himself feeling guilty for what he's done.
Jensen's not dying. Not this time. But it's luck, not judgment.
He sits down heavily on the side of the bed, covers his mouth with his hand, and tries to fight back a wail of rage and hopelessness. His breath shudders out of him between clenched teeth, and all the while, he can only look at Jensen wonder why he didn't see earlier what he was doing to him, doing to this stupid, beautiful kid who wouldn't let him waste away and die when it was obviously the best for everyone. He can just picture Jensen in class a few hours ago, making plans to help Jared, because he was so sure Jared deserved it.
Jared loves Jensen, and he's done this to him.
He gets a grip then. Nods to himself as he makes the decision. Most of his stuff is already packed, because there's never seemed much point to him in unpacking. Parting the drapes a little, Jared looks out: the sun's low, and the afternoon light is dimming. He nods again, and he hooks a hoodie and a pair of gloves out of his bag. If he keeps them on until night comes on properly, he won't have any problem driving.
It's a whole load of shit he's leaving Jensen in. He knows it. Blood loss and a wrecked motel room he shouldn't even be in. The most Jared can do for him is make an anonymous 911 call later to make sure someone gets to him, and leave him a t-shirt to replace the one Jared ruined. Jensen's smart, and the state Jared's left him in, the cops won't have any trouble believing it was non-consensual. They'll connect it to Jared, sure, but Jensen's the only one in town who knows his real name. Jared's a drifter, and any records on him expired decades ago.
It's not a good way to leave Jensen, but it's the best he can do, because anything's better than staying.
But he can't leave without a goodbye, even if Jensen doesn't realize that's what it is.
Sitting at the side of Jensen, Jared strokes his stubble-dusted jaw until he comes to. He blinks sleepily at Jared, and his eyes look huge and green in his drained, white face. He smiles, and Jared can't help smiling right back at him.
"I was sleeping," he says. "Why'd you wake me?" He wriggles, lips turning down in a moue of distaste. "Jesus, my ass is disgusting."
"Nah," says Jared. "It really isn't. How'd you feel?"
Jensen tries to sit up, and he wobbles, one hand coming up to his head like he thinks it's in danger of falling off. He laughs sheepishly as Jared quickly settles him back down on the bed. "Really dizzy. Is that normal?"
It's normal when someone's drunk you like a bottle of soda, thinks Jared. He's not telling Jensen that. Instead he smiles, and nods. Says, "Yeah, but you're gonna need to drink plenty of fluids, 'kay? And go to the doctor."
Jensen rolls his eyes and laughs at him, even though he doesn't try to sit up again. "And tell them what, exactly, genius? The mosquitoes are fucking huge this year?" He laughs again, but he sounds sleepy. His eyes are closing already.
"I'm gonna go get us some dinner," says Jared.
Jensen smacks feebly at him. "You've already eaten," he says.
"Yeah, but you haven't. I won't be long."
"Get pizza," Jensen mumbles. His eyes are closed now. "Barbeque ham."
"Okay," says Jared. "Okay." On impulse, he gathers Jensen close, kisses the top of his head, and prays that he'll never see him again. "I love you," he says.
Jensen doesn't answer, because he's already asleep again when Jared lays him back on the bed. And that's how Jared leaves him.
~end
Self-indulgent porn with vampire!Jared/younger!Jensen, which even Stephenie Meyer might cringe to have written. But I had fun! Title from Nick Cave's Where the wild roses grow. ♥ ♥ ♥
All bloody and wild
(J2 au, nc-17, 5k, bloodplay, rimming, possible underage and first-time)
The picture on the crappy TV in the motel room flickers intermittently with static. It doesn’t matter to Jared. His vision has been swimming in and out of focus for days now. The last time he moved from the bed was when the angle of the sunlight made it through the gap in the drapes, and his burning skin gave him the impetus. He stinks, his mouth is dry and his head is throbbing, and he doesn't know how much longer he can last.
He's trying so hard. So. Very. Hard.
He daydreams. He lets himself imagine feeding off the people walking around on his TV, because it's safe, and because he's too weak to be dangerous. Hunger puts the ghost-taste of blood in his mouth, drips it down his dried-out throat and makes his belly ache with its goodness, until he's smiling stupidly at the sensation.
The tinny drone of voices on TV dribbles away, and the room dips into darkness.
A shadow passes by outside his window, feet scuffing the ground.
Lost in delirium, Jared imagines his teeth coated in blood, the corners of his mouth overflowing with it, and the slow throb of a heart beating in time to the roll of his throat, the weight of a life sliding between his lips.
Someone knocks on the door.
Jared starts. The blood in his mouth is his own; he's bitten down on the inside of his cheek. Trembling, he swallows dry, and it hurts, like grinding metal together. He pushes himself into a sitting position on the bed, and the room rattles around him, crashing in close and swinging away again.
There's another knock at the door, followed by, "Jared, I know you're in there. Let me in. C'mon, man. Let me in."
It's such a beautiful sound that Jared almost believes it's not real. He hopes it's not real. Because he's trying so very hard to be good, and the universe owes him one.
But the universe hates him. "Jared, I'm not going away," says Jensen, just the other side of the door, in the sunshine and fresh air.
Pathetic as he is, Jared's dick twitches. He can smell Jensen's blood, smell it throbbing away, hot and slippery, just under the skin of that soft, biteable little body. He squeezes his eyes shut, presses the heel of his palm to the bulge of his cock, and tries to level out the sudden hard panting of his breath.
"I know you're in there! I can hear the TV, moron. Come on, open the door. Let me in. Please."
He's begging. He's a tender little cut of meat, offering himself up, putting himself in Jared's lap, saying, eat me, c'mon, take what you want. you don't have to be hungry. rip me open and taste me. please. please.
Jared keeps his eyes closed, but his whole body's shaking on the bed, trembling with repressed instinct, with want. He just needs to be strong a little longer. Just keep quiet and still, and Jensen will give up and go away. Little Red will decide that the Big Bad Wolf is not at home today, and will get the fuck away.
Jensen abandons knocking on the door in favor of hammering on it. Stubborn bastard, with his mouth that'd look so pretty stuffed with dick, and his apparent desire to get fucked to death.
"Jared! Open the damn door!" He's shouting. He's going to bring the motel manager down on them both, and the last thing Jared needs is people in this backwater town wanting to know why the local pastor's teenaged son is making visits to the motel rooms of shunned drifters. That would really make his slow suicide suck even more.
It takes more strength than Jared realized he had left to get himself up off the bed and over to the door. Moving is like trying to push through deep water. His legs are weighted down, while his head's so dizzy it feels like it's flying away. His hand is shaking as he lifts the chain and cracks the door open. He flinches instantly at the sunlight, ducking backwards and propping himself up against the doorframe.
Jensen stares up at him, angry and upset. Then his eyes go wide. "Jesus, Jared. Jesus."
Jared smiles thinly, cards his fingers through his lank hair. "I know. Not my hottest look." He was beautiful the night he met Jensen. So fucking beautiful it'd been easy to lure Jensen back to his room. In his current state, he doubts begging would have got Jensen here. His smile drops. He's tired, and he wants it to be over, and he can't deal with Jensen, and these needful things Jensen makes him feel. "You shouldn't be here. I told you not to come. I don't wanna hurt you."
"I think I'd take you dying pretty badly," says Jensen. His jaw's firmed up, like the pretty little fucker's ready for a fight. Jared can't give him one. "Let me in."
He rubs his face on the arm he's bracing against the doorframe, because Jensen makes his eyes burn, like sunlight burns his skin. "No. Go away. Just… go very far away."
"Make me," says Jensen. And he shoves Jared in the shoulder, not hard, but Jared's legs are wobbly already, and he topples backwards into the room. He tries to catch himself on the end of the bed, fails, and drops on his ass on the floor.
For a moment, Jensen's outlined in black in the doorway, bigger and badder than he really is, and when Jared cringes away, he doesn't know if it's the sunlight or Jensen he's hiding from. Jensen swings the door shut, drops his schoolbag at the foot of the bed, before coming in close to Jared. Hiding his eyes behind his hand, Jared can only hear Jensen, smell him, crawling towards Jared on his knees to settle in front of him. Jensen touches his face lightly, fingertips butterfly-kissing his cheekbone, and Jared jerks away, hurt and scared and hopeless.
"Jared," says Jensen. His voice is quiet with concern. "Jared. When did you last feed?"
Jared turns his head away, still hiding.
"You don't look good, Jared," says Jensen.
Insistent, he pries Jared's hand away from his face, and they look at each other in the bronze of the afternoon half-light, the TV still chattering and laughing in the corner of the shabby room. Jared's gaze meets Jensen's liquid green eyes, catches on the pink sweetheart bow of Jensen's worry-bitten mouth, then tracks helplessly to the fluttering pulse in Jensen's throat.
Jensen's lips move, and Jared hears the words, louder than the whisper they are.
"Let me help."
Jared groans. His eyes slam shut. His dick is treacherously hard between his legs; Jensen would be so sweet in his mouth, sweeter than anything he'd tasted before, all that innocence and sharpness. He allows himself to imagine it, because he's not going to let it happen. Blind with frustrated need, so desperate he lets himself touch when he knows he shouldn't, Jared clutches at Jensen's hand, wraps it up in his own.
"Go back to your mommy and daddy. Don't come here again. I'll only hurt you." He strokes the delicate skin between Jensen's fingers, musters up a smile when he realizes Jensen's watching him. "C'mon, you're making me sound emo, and you know I don't do emo. I'm an upbeat kind of guy. An upbeat monster that wants to drink you dry." He lifts Jensen's hand to his mouth, kisses the knuckles, then has to release it when his mind turns to sucking, nipping. Biting. "Please. Just go."
Jensen's still close. Too close. Jared can't figure out how Jensen can be looking at him like that, like Jared's still worth looking at. And if there's one thing worse than the 'murderous inhumanity' of the vampire gig, it's the self-loathing, self-pitying angst.
After a moment longer studying Jared, Jensen shimmies his shoulders and shrugs his jacket off. It gives Jared a real good view of his slender white collarbone, and Jared's mouth waters, gaze narrowed in on exactly where on the smooth skin and fragile splinter of bone he'd bury his teeth. Like he doesn't notice the sudden daze in Jared's eyes, Jensen leans in, curls his fingers in the hair at the back of Jared's neck. It's a caress, which becomes a handhold. He coaxes Jared towards him, angles his own head away, and pushes Jared's face into the soft, intimate crook of his neck.
The smell of his skin makes Jared's head spin. Clean and warm, smelling like school and grass and the tangy sweetness of cheap soda, and that thicker smell of teenage boy, just a little dark. And it's years since Jared was a kid, but it all comes rushing back to him: sunlit classrooms, and passed notes written in glitter pen, and music on the radio. Jensen grips Jared's head there, forces him to breathe him in, hand tight in his hair. Jared's own hand twitches, and it comes up slowly, like it's waking up, crawls up Jensen's back, feeling out the lithe musculature of his body, settles between his shoulder blades.
"C'mon," Jensen mutters, and he rubs Jared's mouth against his bared neck, arching into him. "C'mon. Do it."
Numbly, Jared's lips part. The swipe of his tongue over the juncture of Jensen's neck and shoulder makes Jensen shudder, and his hand on Jensen's back flexes in reflex. Jensen's pulse is held down under the tip of Jared's tongue, beating frantically under his mouth. Through Jensen's chest, pressed to Jared's, Jensen's heart is thrumming like a trapped thing, like it's trying to escape right into the cage of Jared's hollow ribs.
"Jensen. No. Don't. Jensen, stop." Jared says, but it's weak, and he's mouthing at Jensen's pulse in between each protest.
Jensen pushes right into him, forces Jared's mouth open around his throat, fierce and not backing down. "Do it. Do it. Do it."
Tears blur Jared's vision. His gums ache as his fangs slice through the flesh, slide down to pinprick Jensen's skin. They rest there, the vibration of Jensen's pulse traveling up them, each beat hitting Jared like a brand new thought.
Then Jared bites.
Jensen makes a noise, high and hurt, his body jerking towards Jared like Jared's got him on a hook. His hand at the back of Jared's head clenches, tighter and tighter in Jared's hair, and it would be painful, but Jared's all caught up on the sweet, slick spread of flesh under his mouth, the sudden rush of rich heat between his lips. Sensation is overwhelming him, his awareness narrowed to the gnawed-open slipperiness of Jensen's throat, parting for him so easy and slutty.
"Jared… God…" says Jensen, on a short rush of breath.
His body is awkward in Jared's arms, angled and taut, and Jared scoops him closer, hauls him into his lap. Wrenching Jensen's head to the side, Jared draws his fangs out of the flesh, the sound of it is sticky and rough, and the open wound is dark, obscene on the pale skin. He gasps for breath, his head pounding like oxygen's getting through to him again, then he presses back in, just an inch or so higher, and there's blood wet against his chin as he drinks. He guzzles Jensen's blood, barely aware of the sick, grunting noise of his mouth on Jensen's flesh, and his broad hand on Jensen's back keeps Jensen where he wants him.
It's good. So very good. Just like he knew Jensen would taste.
And Jensen, Jensen's wrapped his arms around Jared's neck, his head, and he's pressing his body into Jared's, needy little rocking of his hips, and it takes Jared a moment to realize how damn hard Jensen is. Jensen's stiff dick is tight against his jeans, and he's spreading his thighs wide around Jared's middle to hold him there, getting himself off while he lets Jared maul his throat. Jared pulls his mouth off Jensen's flesh long enough to enjoy the sounds Jensen's making, small whorish grunts that sound punched out of him with each buck of his hips.
Jared crushes his mouth to Jensen's, destroys Jensen's pretty little mouth with brutal kisses and tongue-fucking and too much biting. He grips the back of the waistband of Jensen's jeans, jerks him flush to his own body, and ruts with him on the filthy floor of the motel room. The kiss is breathless and hard, soon bloody and wet as well, and when Jared pulls free, Jensen neck lolls backwards. Eyes a glint of green behind heavy-lids, he's got a junkie's smile, dazed and blissed-out, and his mouth is painted rosy-red with his own blood.
"Love you," says Jensen. And he's never said that before. Jared's willing to bet he's never said that to anyone. He's still so young. Which is so good, because the idea of some pimply-faced jock putting his hands on Jensen makes Jared all kinds of crazy.
There's no weakness left in him. The motel room's too small for him, too small for the drumming of stolen blood in his body. He needs whole continents to spread out in, but there's still that need, that imperative, to fit himself inside Jensen, who's small and tight, even when he opens himself right up for Jared.
Jared surges upwards and forwards, gathering Jensen into a writhing, easy armful, and slams him into the wall. The room shakes under the impact, the TV juddering forward on its stand, and Jensen makes a noise like bones are breaking inside him, but his legs wrap instantly back around Jared, thighs sleek and strong against Jared's hips. Jared twists again, slams Jensen's back into another wall. This time, the TV topples right over, smashes on the floor, but Jensen's tight against Jared, swollen and shiny lip pinned between his teeth, and his fingers tugging at Jared's hair.
Kissing Jensen is as much of a rush as feeding from him, and when Jared's too fierce, rips Jensen's fat lower lip on his fang, they share the taste of Jensen's blood between them, and it's even better. Every so often, in between finding new patches of skin to kiss and bite open, Jared catches sight of Jensen, and he gets a little harder, feels a new rush of excitement, because Jensen's the prettiest combination of blood and green eyes and fever-flush on white skin. Every vampire's wet dream.
"I'm gonna fuck you," says Jared, like it's a warning. Maybe it should be, because Jensen looks a little scared, but he nods, and Jared nods right back at him, final and firm. Then he notices that there's a puncture on Jensen's shoulder still bleeding freely, and he ducks in to lap it up greedily. And Jensen's hand on his head holds his mouth there.
He drops Jensen on the bed, wishes he'd sprung for a better room, wishes he hadn't tried to die in the bed, so that he could offer Jensen something better. Not like Jensen cares though. He reaches up for Jared, hands as clingy and clumsy as a child's. His t-shirt's drenched in blood, and Jared has to peel it off his body, like oil off water. He's about to discard the t-shirt, just throw it away, but the sodden material reeks of Jensen's blood, and he presses it to his face, smothers himself in it. Then he lets it drop, because there's still Jensen, and still plenty of his blood, laid out on the bed for him.
He strips Jensen's jeans off in one quick tug, then dives between Jensen's thighs, and he doesn't know where to put his mouth first. Jensen's fingers are in his hair again, tugging and pulling, impatient and spoiled and desperate for whatever Jared's going to do to him. With one slick slip of his mouth, Jared takes Jensen's hard cock between his lips, drawing his fangs back and pressing his mouth down until the head is nudging the back of his throat - and Jensen's squirming, and going oh! oh! oh!, like he's surprised - and then pulls off. Jensen's dick slaps his flat little belly, wet with Jared's saliva and faintly marked up with the blood Jared's tracking all over Jensen's body, like the stamp of his kisses.
The skin on the inside of Jensen's thigh is beautiful. Flawless as polished china. Jared grips Jensen's ankles and opens his legs wider, pulls Jensen around on the bed so he can get in close at that perfect-pretty skin. Jensen stinks of sex, and the blood smells richer, and Jared's mouth is watering again, even though he's blood-drunk already. He licks his lips, and he's close enough that it makes Jensen shiver. When he glances up at Jensen's face, Jensen's watching him. He's beautiful and bloody, savaged neck bleeding merrily all over the cheap pillowcase, and he's holding himself so still for Jared, waiting.
Carefully, Jared traces the needle-sharpness of the point of one fang over Jensen's thigh, tongue chasing the line of sleek muscle. It's not hard enough to break the skin, just enough to make Jensen whimper, and shift his hips fretfully. When his lips touch the skin, Jared groans, eyes sinking shut. His hand claws into the sharp notch of Jensen's hipbone, though Jensen's making no move to get away, and his other hand grips Jensen's ankle to hold him spread.
When Jared bites, Jensen's dick jerks, a trickle of precome leaking onto his stomach. His muscles go tight, and Jared can feel the flex beneath his lips. His mouth fills with Jensen's blood quickly - too quickly? Jared wonders - and he swallows fast, drinks as much of it as he can, but there are still scarlet lines running down Jensen's leg, soaking into the sheet beneath them. He smoothes his tongue over the punctured flesh, and it’s as copper-sweet as the rest of Jensen, slick in his mouth and drying tacky on his face and neck.
He changes the angle of Jensen's body again, easily dragging Jensen's hips this way or that over the bed to get him where he wants him. He shuffles closer, and his knee ends up in something wet, which turns out to be a puddle of Jensen's blood. The idea of soaking the bed in Jensen's blood, of fucking his emptied out body on sheets that stick to them both, brands itself in his brain, and he knows what he'll be thinking about the next time he jerks off. Jensen's been his jerk-off material since the first time he met him, but now he won't have to imagine what his blood tastes like, won't have to paint the picture of how pretty he is when he's taking Jared's cock and bleeding out in his mouth.
"I'm gonna fuck you," Jared says again, and it's not a warning this time: it's a simple statement of fact, a plain acknowledgement of what's about to happen.
"Yeah," says Jensen, voice just above a whisper, like he's been awed into silence.
It's that hushed little voice that drags Jared's eyes back up to Jensen's face. He loves Jensen so fiercely it's as much of a monster as the need for blood is. He can't say it, can't force the words out, because Jensen's so lovely in all that blood, an eager and nervous little virgin, and all he wants is Jared, any way he can have him.
Jared presses a kiss to the bruised, sloppy wound on Jensen's thigh, then nudges back, searching out Jensen's hole between the hot, clenched cheeks of his ass. As Jared's tongue flutters over the tiny hole, Jensen makes another of those surprised noises, and his legs twitch, like maybe instinct's got him trying to press his thighs closed. But Jared's huge shoulders and strong hands hold him open, and the next time he licks him, the sound Jensen makes is sweeter, happier. So Jared stabs the tip of his tongue inside, grins against the curve of Jensen's ass as Jensen nearly comes off the bed.
He takes his time opening Jensen up, working his tight little asshole with his tongue, bathing it and fucking it, until Jensen's whining and writhing, fingertips digging into Jared's scalp as he tries to ride Jared's face. Jared wants to put his mouth on Jensen here after he fucks him, he wants to lick his own spunk out of Jensen's fucked-open hole, he wants to fill Jensen up with his come, like he's filled himself up with Jensen's blood, and then he wants to eat it all back out of him.
Jensen's hole quivers when Jared finally pulls away. It's shiny and wet, and waiting for Jared to stretch it wide around his cock. He crawls back up Jensen's body, kissing and nipping as he goes, and Jensen's flushed and panting when they're face to face. Jared kisses him again, and Jensen tries to turn his face away from it, and it's adorable, that Jensen thinks it's too dirty to kiss Jared after Jared's tongue has been up his ass. Jared kisses him anyway, kisses him until Jensen gives in to it and sucks on his tongue.
Carefully, as though he has to go slow to make sure his hand doesn't wobble, Jensen touches his thumb to the corner of Jared's mouth. He brings it back red-wet. He studies his own blood from Jared's mouth like he doesn't quite get it, like he's trying to understand the big deal. Then he meets Jared's eyes and smiles again, bares his neck again.
Their bodies fit together neatly. Jared tucks himself behind Jensen, reaches between them to undo his jeans and push them down. The tip of his dick pushes against the small of Jensen's back, smearing the skin wet and sticky. His t-shirt is damp with sweat, and it sticks to Jensen as Jared plasters himself to the curve of his spine. Jensen's easily wrapped up in Jared's bigger body, head bowed forward and his bare skin trembles all over with the jackrabbit beat of his heart.
"So beautiful," Jared tells him, smoothing his palm over Jensen's haunch, before he tips him forward just a little, coaxing Jensen's top leg up, so that he can work his cock up against his licked-open hole.
It's slick and tight, and Jared pushes so gently, so carefully, nudging inside, and watching Jensen's hole strain to take him. He fastens his mouth to Jensen's slippery shoulder, brings his arm around Jensen's waist to hold him in place, and he pushes. He pushes in, and a round, unshaped sound pushes out of Jensen's mouth, cuts off when Jared puts his teeth back in his flesh, sucks blood to the surface and into his mouth.
Jared keeps pushing, holding Jensen's hot, shivery body, as he works his way deeper. Jensen's ass clings to him, too tight to let him in and too tight to let him pull out. It's so good Jared has to stop every now and then, to keep himself from coming too soon, before he's buried inside Jensen where he wants to be. He savors the taste of Jensen's blood on his tongue, and the sweat-sticky rub of their flesh together, and finally, his balls brush into the dip of Jensen's asscheeks.
Jared's pushed all up inside him, filling his mouth with Jensen's blood, and Jensen's tucked in at his side, stuck squirming on his dick. And Jared can’t believe he wanted to die this morning.
He fucks Jensen slowly and deeply, his cock never leaving Jensen's body, and the belt buckle of his pushed-down jeans biting red into the back of Jensen's thighs with each thrust. By the time Jared's done with him, there's not going to be an inch of Jensen's skin that's not marked up.
His hand on Jensen's belly tells him how drum-tight Jensen is, and Jensen's a tall kid, and well built for his age, but Jared keeps expecting to feel the head of his dick prominent under his palm. Then Jensen's hand settles on top of his, sweaty fingers sliding together, and Jared stops biting him long enough to kiss his cheek, and to let Jensen twist his neck enough to catch his mouth in a messy kiss.
"Jared," says Jensen. His eyes are wide, painfully green against his white skin. "Jared, I -"
He can't say it. He was out of his head earlier, but it's all too real now. The thick shove of Jared's cock up his ass gives Jensen too much sharp clarity, and he can't say the words. But Jared melts all the same. He kisses Jensen's bloodstained mouth, swallowing up Jensen's cry as he rocks his dick up hard inside him.
Me too, he wants to say.
His hand fumbles for Jensen's cock, lets Jensen fuck up into the circle of his fist. Mouthing Jensen's neck, he encourages him with the rhythm of his own thrusts, snapping Jensen's hips forward with the force of his own body around his. The headboard of the bed knocks the wall over and over, but right now, Jared doesn't care who finds him in bed with the pastor's boy. He's in love with him, and he'll tear the head off the first person to try to pull him off Jensen.
Jensen comes in messy white spurts over Jared's hand, and Jared tells him how beautiful he is, and how good he feels around Jared's dick, and how he's gonna take care of Jensen. And then, because words just don't cut it, don't do justice to what Jared feels for Jensen, he jams his teeth back in Jensen's throat, cuts new holes and latches on to a fresh rush of blood, and he drinks and he drinks. Drinks while he pumps Jensen full of his come.
:::
Afterwards, Jensen sleeps. Passes out, maybe.
Jared doesn't need to sleep. He feels powerfully alive.
The state of the motel room makes Jared grin. No way is he getting his deposit back. He stands the TV back up on its stand, for all the good that does, and gingerly picks up the shards of glass from the broken screen, dumps them in the trash. There's a picture knocked askew from the second time he bounced Jensen off the wall, and Jared straightens it back up, pulls back to study it, then adjusts it a little more. Luckily, Jensen's schoolbag escaped the rampage, because Jensen'd be pissed if his schoolwork or something got messed up. No use telling the teacher a vampire did it in the middle of some rough sex, 'cause that just wouldn't fly.
Jared darts a fond look back at Jensen, and he notices Jensen's discarded t-shirt on the floor by the foot of the bed. He picks it up, shakes it out, and hopes he's got something for Jensen to wear instead that won't arouse his parents' suspicions when he goes home.
Then Jared looks at the t-shirt again. Really takes in the sheer amount of blood on it. There's so much blood on it, it hasn't even started to dry.
Something cold settles in his belly, right on top of the thick sweetness of Jensen's blood. He crosses to the bed, feeling jittery and scared, and looks at Jensen. He's pale. Too pale. His freckles are standing out in a way they shouldn't. And the bed is soaked under him.
Jared carefully tilts Jensen's neck to the side, and Jensen's head lolls like his spine's been taken out. The sight of Jensen's throat makes Jared catch his breath. It's a mess. It's a mass of purpling-black bruises, and dried blood. Jared's mauled him. He doesn't quite dare touch Jensen, but he needs to find a pulse. Jensen's warm, and his eyelids flutter as Jared puts his fingertips on the fucked-up flesh and presses 'til he finds a beat.
Not dying then. Not this time.
The way Jensen's lying, Jared can see his own come glistening between the cheeks of Jensen's ass and on his thighs, the red scrapes his belt buckle's left on Jensen's legs. He doesn't want to see what he's done to the inside of Jensen's thigh. It's too much. Covering Jensen's body with his marks had been hot when he was high on blood. He's a little more sober now, and he thinks he might be sick, but it'll be black with Jensen's blood.
He wants to be angry with Jensen for letting him do this, for offering himself up when Jared told him to stay away. And he is. But not angry enough to stop himself feeling guilty for what he's done.
Jensen's not dying. Not this time. But it's luck, not judgment.
He sits down heavily on the side of the bed, covers his mouth with his hand, and tries to fight back a wail of rage and hopelessness. His breath shudders out of him between clenched teeth, and all the while, he can only look at Jensen wonder why he didn't see earlier what he was doing to him, doing to this stupid, beautiful kid who wouldn't let him waste away and die when it was obviously the best for everyone. He can just picture Jensen in class a few hours ago, making plans to help Jared, because he was so sure Jared deserved it.
Jared loves Jensen, and he's done this to him.
He gets a grip then. Nods to himself as he makes the decision. Most of his stuff is already packed, because there's never seemed much point to him in unpacking. Parting the drapes a little, Jared looks out: the sun's low, and the afternoon light is dimming. He nods again, and he hooks a hoodie and a pair of gloves out of his bag. If he keeps them on until night comes on properly, he won't have any problem driving.
It's a whole load of shit he's leaving Jensen in. He knows it. Blood loss and a wrecked motel room he shouldn't even be in. The most Jared can do for him is make an anonymous 911 call later to make sure someone gets to him, and leave him a t-shirt to replace the one Jared ruined. Jensen's smart, and the state Jared's left him in, the cops won't have any trouble believing it was non-consensual. They'll connect it to Jared, sure, but Jensen's the only one in town who knows his real name. Jared's a drifter, and any records on him expired decades ago.
It's not a good way to leave Jensen, but it's the best he can do, because anything's better than staying.
But he can't leave without a goodbye, even if Jensen doesn't realize that's what it is.
Sitting at the side of Jensen, Jared strokes his stubble-dusted jaw until he comes to. He blinks sleepily at Jared, and his eyes look huge and green in his drained, white face. He smiles, and Jared can't help smiling right back at him.
"I was sleeping," he says. "Why'd you wake me?" He wriggles, lips turning down in a moue of distaste. "Jesus, my ass is disgusting."
"Nah," says Jared. "It really isn't. How'd you feel?"
Jensen tries to sit up, and he wobbles, one hand coming up to his head like he thinks it's in danger of falling off. He laughs sheepishly as Jared quickly settles him back down on the bed. "Really dizzy. Is that normal?"
It's normal when someone's drunk you like a bottle of soda, thinks Jared. He's not telling Jensen that. Instead he smiles, and nods. Says, "Yeah, but you're gonna need to drink plenty of fluids, 'kay? And go to the doctor."
Jensen rolls his eyes and laughs at him, even though he doesn't try to sit up again. "And tell them what, exactly, genius? The mosquitoes are fucking huge this year?" He laughs again, but he sounds sleepy. His eyes are closing already.
"I'm gonna go get us some dinner," says Jared.
Jensen smacks feebly at him. "You've already eaten," he says.
"Yeah, but you haven't. I won't be long."
"Get pizza," Jensen mumbles. His eyes are closed now. "Barbeque ham."
"Okay," says Jared. "Okay." On impulse, he gathers Jensen close, kisses the top of his head, and prays that he'll never see him again. "I love you," he says.
Jensen doesn't answer, because he's already asleep again when Jared lays him back on the bed. And that's how Jared leaves him.
~end