World Goes 'Round By Misunderstanding - Jared/Jensen NC-17 - 1/3
Title - World Goes ‘Round By Misunderstanding
Author - queerly_it_is
Pairing - Jared/Jensen
Rating - NC-17
Word Count - 17.3k
Warnings - Underage (Jensen is 16), mpreg, alpha/beta knotting!fic, heat!fic, explicit m/m sex, angst, misunderstandings and schmoop galore.
Disclaimer - I own nothing and no one mentioned here. If you think any of this happened, there are many forms of counselling available.
Summary - Written for this epically inspiring prompt on kink meme.
tl;dr version - Jensen and Jared love each other, but neither of them knows that. Jensen goes into heat and seeks out Jared, who gives in to what’s he’s ashamed of wanting. Jared calls Jensen’s parents who make a deal with Jared that they don’t see fit to inform Jensen of, and matters only get worse when Jensen finds out he’s pregnant and runs away from home to keep his baby.
Authors Notes - Okay so I just wrote over 17k for a kinkmeme prompt *epic headdesk* Also my first mpreg and knotting!fic so yay me! Huge thanks to alezig, soulezz, cillab42 and all the other wonderful people that cheered me on with every cliffhangery post! Couldn’t have done it without you!
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The first time that Jensen finds out he's a beta; he’s thirteen, and Mr Padalecki - "call me Jared" - has just moved in across the street. The sudden rush of unfamiliar wet heat to his stomach and down between his legs, along with the pounding of his heart and the hitching of his breath; prompts him to tug on his momma’s pant leg and tell her “Think m‘sick, momma.”
The doctor immediately figures out that Jensen isn’t sick; he’s going into puberty, and he‘s a beta. His momma hugs him tight in the small exam room that smells of cleanser and old magazines; and mumbles something about grandbabies into his hair.
When he’s fourteen, his papa - looking so uncomfortable he’s actually sweating through his shirt collar - sits Jensen down and tells him all about the ‘facts of life’; about alphas and betas and the kinds of things men and women (or men and men, or women and women) can do when they “love each other very much”.
His papa tells him that male betas - “like you, son” - can have children like women can. He explains what ‘heat’ means and how important it is to be careful; that he shouldn’t start thinking about doing stuff like this until he’s old enough and gets married like his parents.
Jensen sits perfectly still in their too-quiet, sun-drenched living room, perched on the edge of the squishy couch as his papa avoids his eyes; rubs a hand absently over his belly; and thinks about Jared.
For someone so much older than Jensen - he‘s twenty-six, Jensen knows, because he asked - Jared is surprisingly easy to talk to; he always waves if Jensen does, always smiles - he has a really nice smile - when he sees Jensen on his bike or walking to school. He’s this giant, affectionate guy that doesn’t act anything like the alphas Jensen’s seen on TV, or in that dirty magazine Billy Watkins stole from his brother, and showed him behind the cafeteria that one time. He’s just really nice; to everyone; but Jensen sometimes thinks Jared’s smile is maybe a little wider for him than anyone else.
It takes him a while to figure out that he likes Jared probably more than he’s supposed to.
When he’s fifteen; Jensen goes into heat for the first time. It’s almost unbearable; the need for something that he can’t find the words for and doesn’t know how to get, feeling of ants crawling on his skin and fire heating up his blood, unable to concentrate or sit still. He spends nearly a week shut away in his room; musky smell of the slick running down his legs almost overpowering the ones of sweat and come. His momma brings him juice and food that he barely eats, while he paces around the room and thrashes in the sheets as he jerks off furiously, despite the chafing on his skin and the lack of relief it provides him.
When it’s finally over, he showers for about an hour and a half, and then rides his bike as many times around the neighbourhood as it takes for the cabin fever to go away. He’s sweating and his legs are burning; but he’s outside and his skin doesn’t feel too tight anymore, and then he’s sees Jared and his two giant dogs - that look stupidly average-sized next to him - jogging down the sidewalk.
“Hey Jared!” He all but yells, skidding to a halt, little-kid excitement in full force despite how much he always wants to sound grown up for Jared, like it’ll somehow counteract the height difference or his freckled baby-face.
“Jensen, hey!” That wide, dimpled smile again, stomach flip-flopping and thank God his face is already red from the exercise. Jared looks awesome; hair and tank top both damp where he’s been running, outline of muscle everywhere, strong legs in black shorts, tendons in his thick arms flexing as he tugs on the leashes in his big, long-fingered hands.
His heat is over, right?
“Haven’t seen you in a while, buddy.” Jared says as he looks him over, like he’s checking for a cast or bruises or something. Jensen tries really hard not to fidget under the attention; tamps down on the urge to sit straighter and puff himself up like a bird.
“Yeah, I uh. I was. Just that time a’year, y’know?” Head ducking and face burning at the freaking stupid way of putting it, but it’s not like he’s gonna tell Jared that he was locked in his room leaking like a sieve while he rubbed himself off thinking about him, about how big Jared is all over.
Jared’s face scrunches a little adorably in confusion, before his bluish, slanted eyes widen and he does this really distracting drag with his tongue across his lower lip as he takes in a giant breath through his nose.
“Oh. Well, uh. Glad you’re okay.” His voice sounds a little weird, but the smile is back so Jensen can’t really focus on it.
Then suddenly he’s talking about the dogs needing water and work he has to do, and then he’s gone, while Jensen just kinda stands there and stares at his retreating back - and his ass, and his legs - as he heads into the house, door slamming shut behind him.
Jensen probably needs to go jerk off again.
****
Jared could fucking kick himself.
In fact, he should probably just drown himself in the bathtub and get it over with. Maybe take the toaster with him for good measure.
He blames his lack of realisation on the way Jensen had been all flushed and panting and grinning ear-to-ear, and fuck even the memory of that image is enough to have him twitching in his shorts; surge of want only made stronger by the slight twinge of guilt that grips his stomach and lies sour under his tongue.
Jensen was in heat.
He groans at the thought, unable to keep himself from grinding the heel of his palm into his crotch in an attempt to relieve the pressure. Christ there has to be something wrong with him that he’s this twisted up over a damned kid.
Except Jensen isn’t just a kid. Jensen isn’t just anything. And that’s exactly the problem.
He remembers the week he’d moved here over two years ago; truck still full of boxes and bags and crates; when out of nowhere had come this energetic bundle of green eyes and freckles and lips; who’d stuck his hand out with a grin and said “Hi! I‘m Jensen. I‘m gonna be a beta!” the same way kids tell adults what they’re gonna do for a living when they get older. Jared had been torn between laughing, and falling all over himself like he hadn’t done since his last big growth spurt at seventeen.
Jensen’s mother had been quick to apologise; explained that they’d literally just found out he was a beta, and Jensen was a touch overexcited and didn’t really understand that people don’t tend to include that information along with a first handshake. Jared had just tried to wave it off and ignore the lingering warmth sitting somewhere below his navel.
It’d been downhill from there, really. Seemed like wherever he went Jensen would show up in some form or another; on that green bike that made the colour of his eyes stand out to an almost preternatural degree, or with his friends, or - and this is where the stab of burning arousal and bitter guilt comes back - in his school uniform that still makes every blood cell in Jared’s body flood somewhere distinctly inappropriate.
They’ve had dozens - hundreds - of conversations since then, and Jared is unceasingly amazed by how quick-witted Jensen is, how easy it is to forget his age in the space of a few well-phrased sentences and keen observations.
Now Jensen is fifteen, and he’s nearly six-feet tall already, he’s been gaining muscle and looking more and more like something out of a particularly wet dream, and Jared is finding it harder to remember that Jensen is a beta, not his beta. Jensen isn’t his anything.
He stamps down on the grating disappointment and jerks off in the shower, left hand squeezing his knot as he soaks the tile wall with ropey come, Jensen‘s name gasped like a prayer.
Jared loves his job, he really does. He likes that working from home means he can keep his own hours, and not have a boss breathing down his neck every day. He likes that he can take afternoons off to go to the park with his dogs, and he likes that he can sleep in and not feel too guilty about it. The only problem is that his desk sits below the big window of his study, which happens to look down over the street, and he can’t seem to stop himself from putting down his pen and watching Jensen walk to school in the morning, and then again as he walks home in the afternoon; every inch the pathetic mooning creeper he feels when Jensen smiles at him and all Jared can think is mate.
If he’s totally honest, he gave up trying to stop himself a while ago.
****
Jensen goes into heat twice more before he turns sixteen, and each time he spends days jittery and on-edge even before the hormones suddenly kick in, and then he feels like he’s gonna lose his freaking mind unless he gets some form of release; climbing the walls and snapping at anyone dumb enough to try and talk to him when he’s locked in his room with one hand on his dick and three fingers in his ass. He’s done his reading - which, okay maybe involved some online porn when his folks were out - since that first time, and he knows now what it is his body’s craving, what that insatiable feeling of emptiness is; but like hell is he gonna get it when he’s fifteen, and the only alpha he’s even remotely attracted to is more than ten years older, and probably thinks of him like a little brother or something.
That doesn’t make the fantasies go away, though.
He knows there are…things…you can buy online and from the backs of skin mags, things meant to help single betas in heat that don’t wanna slut around to a dangerous extent three times a year; but c’mon; his momma cleans his room - mainly ‘cos he never does, but still - and the thought of her reaction to a knotted dildo hidden under his mattress or in the back of a drawer makes him wanna go find a rock to hide under.
That kind of rational thinking is really hard to remember when he’s in heat, though; pure need making him wanna claw at his skin and run for miles and rut against the sweat-soaked sheets beneath him, every perverted thought about the older alpha playing like mental porn every minute of the day.
It’d probably help if Jared wasn’t always so damn friendly. He patted Jensen on the back with one of those big paws a’his the other day, all dimples and smooth, deep Texas accent; and Jensen had damn near climbed him like a tree; alpha scent of musk and something woodsy filling his nose, like curls of smoke sending heat arrowing to his groin.
His stupid body wants to read things into the singularly-focused way Jared sometimes looks at him that just aren’t real. Wants to believe that when Jared’s pupils change and his nostrils flare it’s because of him, and not some instinctive response to a beta approaching their heat.
Mother Nature; Jensen decides; is really kind of a bitch.
The weekend after his sixteenth birthday is spent on a camping trip with a few of his friends; and Chris somehow manages to smuggle in a bag of weed that makes Jensen giggle like a pre-teen girl at his friend’s stupid jokes, in-between bouts of staring at the stars and the overwhelming urge to eat a whole loaf of white bread. They sit around a rather unsafe-looking campfire and talk about guys and girls and sex; a discussion Jensen never wants to have again while Misha is trying to build an anatomically correct donkey out of sticks right next to him.
“So, Jen.” Chris says for the third time in a row; like the words are a small circle he can’t get out of. “When’re you gonna jump that Jared guy?” Last few words muffled around the joint he’s placed between his lips; stark line of white ending in a flare of red that bobs as he talks.
“Dude, never. He’s like, nearly half my dad’s age.” Trying for outrage to cover the pathetic Pavlovian response he has to Jared’s name.
“So? Not like he is your dad.” Said like that solves the whole problem, stoner logic going full steam.
“My parents would ship me off to military school the second they found out I‘d even looked at him funny. After they had Jared arrested.” The thought of the big kind-hearted alpha being led away in handcuffs by the cops makes him wanna hurl.
“If they found out, Jen, if. You got a lot to learn about sneakin’ around if you ever wanna get laid.” Grey smoke filtering out of his smirking mouth as he talks.
“Dude I’m just a kid to him, he isn’t gonna mate with me when he could get someone his own age, or a girl, or whatever else he wants.” Doing his best not to sound bitter, probably fails miserably.
“Well you ain’t gonna find out if you keep being too much of a pussy to actually try.” Eyes twinkling in the firelight as his friend smirks at him, like being seventeen gives you all the answers to every problem in the universe.
Jensen just flips him off and helps Misha build his donkey.
The first time he goes into heat at sixteen has to be the worst one yet; he feels like he’s actually on fire; combusting slowly from the inside as literal heat spreads from somewhere behind his hips outward to the rest of his body. He slams his bedroom door hard enough that a picture frame falls off the wall, and tries to tamp down on the urge to throw something in pure frustration. Fuck, the way this gets described in biology textbooks and online help-sites never makes it sound this bad; like he’s gonna die if he doesn’t get an alpha‘s knot up in him.
The pounding of his heart behind his ribs, the rush of blood in his ears; all seems to whisper Ja-red, Ja-red with every thudding beat, and he can’t fucking take it anymore.
He’s standing by the window before he even registers the movement; hands scrabbling at the frame where it’s painted over, heaves and shoves ‘till it shoots open and the rush of fresh, night air hits him; smell of warm asphalt and freedom, noise of cicadas taunting him. He’s never climbed out of his window before, but the old tree outside makes it almost stupidly easy - Chris may have had a point about the sneaking around thing - and he’s on the ground in just a few minutes, landing softly in the grass as gracefully as he can manage when he‘s shivering with adrenaline and heat.
He can hear the television through the wall of the family room where his parents are sitting, and he hopes it’s enough to cover the noise of him unlatching the gate and running out of the yard.
He makes across the street to Jared’s house in what feels like a single rushed step; body almost flush with the door as he rings the bell over and over; sounds of barking and paws scrabbling on a wooden floor.
“Just a second!” Shouted from inside the house, somewhere from above him as footfalls hammer down the stairs. “C’mon guys, get back. Out of the way.” Another burst of tingling fire down his spine that ends below his tailbone just from Jared’s voice; booming and full of command; instinctual beta impulse to submit to an alpha; to his alpha.
Then the door gets flung open, golden light from the hallway framing Jared like a halo; shining through his hair and throwing him into shadow and silhouette. He looks like fire and raw strength and everything Jensen wants for the rest of his fucking life.
“Jensen? It’s the middle of the night, man.” Looking at the watch on his wrist like the darkness outside isn’t proof of that, sounding tired even though he isn‘t dressed for bed. Something must be showing on Jensen’s face - or maybe it’s the way he’s tenting out his sweatpants - ’cos Jared steps out of the house and onto the porch a little.
“What’s wrong? You look-” He stops suddenly as his breath judders in through his nose, fumbles backwards toward the open door; one hand suddenly white knuckling the frame. “Jesus, Jensen, you. You can’t be here right now.” Voice dropping four octaves in one sentence, left knee twitching and bending like he can’t make it lock in place.
“Jared.” It’s his voice, but not like he’s ever heard it sound before; like he’s been gargling with battery acid; mouth watering smell of alpha drifting to him from what he suddenly realises is a barely existent space between them.
Barely existent, but still way too much.
He takes a step forward, and Jared seems to move toward and away from him at the same time; stumbling a little as he tries to avoid tripping over the lip of the door.
“Jensen.” Throat working as he coughs and swallows visibly. “You have to go home, okay. I can’t. You can’t be here.” Jared shakes his head like he’s trying to clear it, hair spilling over his forehead, jaw working and fuck he’s so damn gorgeous.
“What if I don’t wanna leave?” Another way he’s never heard himself sound, odd lilt to the words. “What if I’m exactly where I need to be?” Standing practically chest-to-chest with the alpha now, Hand reaching out - only shaking a little, pretty impressive feat he thinks - palm flat and running up Jared’s stomach, past the kettle drum pounding thump-thump in his chest, stops between the muscles underneath his collarbones.
Then suddenly there’s the feeling of cold wall against his back, as Jared spins him ninety-degrees and pins him to the house, looming over him with heat in his eyes and sweat beading at his temples.
“You should really push me away.” Words soft and dark and so full of promise as Jared closes the space between them, warm breath on his face and eyes trying not to cross from how Jared is right fucking there.
“I really don’t want to.” Trying to let some of how badly he needs this show on his face; eyes locked onto Jared’s with as much defiance as he can summon out of the haze in his mind and the inferno in his belly. Judging by the way Jared’s pupils are now so blown-black the light from the house just seems to get sucked into them, he thinks it’s probably working.
“God, Jensen. The way you look.” Pointed tip of Jared’s nose running along his jaw, dipping to his neck, inhaling deep and long. “The way you smell.” Jared’s soft lips press to his throat, and Jensen makes a noise like the cracked bastard child of a moan and a whimper; hips twitching forward even though Jared has him held sternly against the wall.
“Want you. Fuck, Jared please.” Heat in his veins only getting worse as Jared alternates between sucking kisses along his neck and just breathing him in like he’s the only source of air Jared has.
“What, Jensen? Tell me what you want.” Cock twitching hard at the gruff words practically snarled against his skin, and fuck he expects Jensen to answer with words when he’s doing that scrape-drag thing with the blunt ends of his teeth?
“You. God, fuck me. Mate me. Please Jared.” Head thunking back against the brick, words like broken glass in his throat.
****
Jared has to be dreaming.
No way does he actually have the - admittedly underage - beta of his dreams - and thoughts, and fantasies - pinned outside his front door, begging for his knot like he knows what any of it actually means.
Jared should take Jensen home; let his heat pass and then pretend none of this ever happened except for when he’s jerking off.
But Jensen is just pliant and hot and so fucking wet that Jared can smell it through his clothes, leaning back against the wall, neck bared submissively and looking like the filthiest and most dangerous thing Jared has ever seen.
He should send Jensen away. He really should.
Nobody is that much of a martyr.
He doesn’t so much kiss Jensen; as he does fist his hands in the beta’s floppy, blonde hair and just crush their mouths together; tongue parting the boy’s - Christ he’s just a boy - pretty pink lips and drawing the sweet, heat-strengthened taste of Jensen into himself.
Jensen makes the most amazing noises as Jared just takes his mouth; high moans and jagged whimpers that erode the shreds of Jared’s self-control like waves pounding on rock. He pulls Jensen into him and gets his arms around his waist, hands spanning the cheeks of his round little ass, finding and pressing against the patch of slick soaking through, and grinds them together at the hips, slick-wet sounds of dirty kisses loud in the silent space between his house and the orange glow of streetlamps from the street below.
That’s when he remembers they’re pretty much standing outside, in full view of Jensen’s house; directly opposite the front windows where the light of a television is flickering on the curtains.
Jared should send the beta home to his parents.
“Come inside with me.” Words breathed against Jensen’s mouth as he breaks the kiss, hands sliding over trim hips and up a narrow waist to leanly muscled shoulders, and apparently social responsibility can go fuck itself.
“God, yeah. Want it. Want you so much.” Trying to clamber up Jared’s body with his hands laced behind his neck, little mewls of frustration and unfocused need spilling from his kiss-bruised mouth.
Jared seriously needs to get them inside.
He all but carries Jensen up the stairs to his bedroom, strong nimble fingers of the beta’s hands scrabbling at his belt as he moves them down the hall and into the comfortable, not-quite-luxurious space of his room. Jensen urges him around with a hand on his shoulder, and Jared gets lost in the young - damnit so fucking young - boy’s mouth again, could probably do this for hours every day and never feel like it was enough.
That’s gonna be a problem, he can tell.
He backs up toward the giant, custom-made frame of his bed, spins them around and uses his bigger mass to knock Jensen back onto the mattress, watches him land with a soft bounce and noise of air knocked from his lungs.
He immediately decides that the beta looks insanely good spread out on his sheets; freckles nearly invisible with the flush and sheen of sweat on his skin, eyes wide and bright and so fucking green as he looks up at Jared from his uncoordinated, unconsciously sexy sprawl and licks his lips; move so sensuous it almost looks planned.
But it isn’t, because Jensen has never done this before.
That thought comes close to making him shoot right inside his jeans before they’ve even started.
Scent of beta heat filling the room and clouding his senses; Jared nods for Jensen to move up the bed as he crawls up after him, ends with his knees bracketing the boy’s thighs and his hands planted on the pillow on either side of his head.
He tries to think of something to say; but with the desperate way Jensen is trying to drag him down on top of him, and the look in those eyes of his, the words just turn to steam in his throat, rising out as a growling moan; note of approval that makes the scent of heat grow even stronger.
****
Jensen is almost out of his mind. So on edge and full of want he can barely breathe, much less think.
He might like it, just a little bit.
Jared is lowering more and more of his weight down onto him, and with every inch that he’s pressed into the comfortable mattress, the painful twist in his guts at not getting what he needs fades a little more into the background. The hot, almost-biting kisses Jared is laying across his mouth, combined with the drag of his denim-clad cock right over where Jensen is adding a wet patch to the front of his sweats with how much precome he’s leaking, is shoving him so fast toward the cliff-edge of his climax he can’t stop it.
“Gonna come, aren’t you? Come all over yourself, just from rubbing off against me.” Words rumbled so low they’re barely audible as Jared sucks bruises into his neck and toward his collarbone. “Haven’t even started with you yet. So fucking eager.” Said like praise and water falling from his mouth as he grinds his hips down, and Jensen kinda wants to point out that he’s in heat, so of course he’s fucking eager, but then he’s too busy creaming his shorts like the kid he is to get the words out.
The feeling of the wet pulses shooting in his clothes is insanely filthy-hot, completely eclipsed by the way Jared has pulled back, sitting on his haunches to watch as the dark, damp patch spreads across the grey material, and Jensen really didn’t think he could blush any more than he already is.
Okay, he might like it more than a little.
“Such a good boy, Jensen. So good for me. Gonna take such good care’a you.” Muttered absently like he’s not actually talking to Jensen, eyes roving over him like a physical touch.
Then Jensen’s being divested of his shirt and pants and - really sticky - shorts so fast he almost misses it. Jared just flings the clothes off to one side like it’s burning him to hold onto them, and then he’s crossing his arms at the hem of his own tee and lifting it off and shit he’s fucking huge; planes of solid muscle and smooth brown skin for miles as he undresses quickly, but with this predatory, purposeful grace that’s just so fucking sexy.
Soon as they’re both naked; backs of Jensen’s thighs sticking to the sheets where he’s spilling slick like a capsized oil tanker, Jared presses them together from chest to toes; big long-fingered hands lacing with Jensen’s and pressing them into the pillow either side of his head, command in every touch and movement.
Jensen is more than okay with that.
“Gonna be mine, Jen.” Not a question, doesn’t need to be.
He gets his legs wrapped around Jared’s tapered waist, crosses his ankles like he’s trying to stop the alpha getting away. The sight of his dick makes every primal nerve in Jensen’s body scream so loud he’s surprised he can’t hear it in the room over their harsh breathing and the pounding of his heart.
He’s honestly had more jerk off fantasies about how proportional Jared has to be than he’d ever admit, even to himself; but looking at the way Jared is hard and leaking and so damn big as he curves up toward his belly, makes every one of them seem like a pathetic, pale imitation.
Jared leans his weight forward ‘till he’s blocking out the lamplight, once again outlined by it in the style of some beautiful, erotic artwork; hard lines and smooth curves and Jensen cannot bear being this empty anymore.
“C’mon, God I need it, Jay, c’mon.” Throat so dry it hurts to talk, sound of his own sandpaper-rough voice surprising him. Jared makes a soothing noise like he’s talking to a frantic animal, squeezes Jensen’s fingers where they’re gripping Jared’s tight enough to hurt.
“S’okay, baby. Gonna give you what you need yeah?” He manages to line himself up without loosening the grip that’s holding Jensen to the bed like an insect pinned to cardboard, and thank fuck they don’t have to waste time with lube and prep right now.
The slide of hard flesh into him is the most intense thing he’s ever felt. Too-full and not full enough as Jared works his hips forward slowly, inescapable pressure and slick drag over Jensen’s insides as inch after inch of cock fills him up.
Christ, less than a minute in and he’s already addicted to this.
He doesn’t know how long it takes for Jared to sheath himself inside completely; could be minutes or hours or days from the way every sensation in his body is narrowed to that one point; living, pulsing heat of Jared inside him pushing every thought from his head so thoroughly he probably couldn’t spell his own name.
“Fuck, Jensen. So damn tight.” Grind of pelvis like a reflex, muscles and tendons in his forearms flexing as he spasmodically clenches his fingers in Jensen’s.
“So full.” Said as he shoves his head back into the pillow and his hips back into Jared’s fucking perfect dick, small movements all he can make with only his upper half on the bed and his arms pinned down. He’s trapped and pretty damn helpless and he really fucking likes it.
Part 2