Requiem Part One
Part One
Jensen
Every morning, Father Jensen Ross Ackles says a twenty minute prayer. He prays for the Church, he prays for his family and he prays for the world before he finally prays for himself. He asks for God’s blessings and protection in his quest to rid his sleepy little town of as many demons as possible. He pays for God to give him the authority to cast them out in His name. Then he says the Rosary a minimum of two times and finally, finally, he takes his little notebook out. It’s filled with the names of people who’d been demon possessed before he exorcised them. He names each person and asks for forgiveness on their behalf because they did not ask to be possessed, they did not ask to become evil. He prays for God to have mercy on their souls and allow them into Heaven. He prays that they will not be punished for the acts of which they were forced to do while being controlled by Lucifer’s minions. He says a special prayer for the poor saints stuck in purgatory and an extra special one for Danneel’s soul. Then he’s finally finished.
He takes his shower as hot as he can stand it, symbolically purging himself of sins he might have forgotten in his request for forgiveness. Jensen religiously ignores the morning wood he’s woken up with, focusing his attention on whatsoever is pure and just and holy. Being a priest means he has done away with those lustful pleasures, it means giving up oneself for the Lord. He showers quickly and efficiently, never wasting his water or soap. Once done, he has a quick breakfast, which he profusely thanks the Lord for, clothes himself and sets about answering emails from troubled members of his flock, his good friend Christian Kane, and hunters that keep him clued in on the status of the demon population of his town.
In his inbox, there’s troubling news from the local hunters that a demon has been roaming around the gay bar in town. He’s been asked to take care of it because a case of shapeshifters infiltrating the neighbourhood calls for all the hunters in order to keep it under control. Father Kane isn’t in town and Jensen is the only other priest the hunters trust. Jensen doesn’t want to take this, though; doesn’t want to step foot in a place so heavily steeped in abomination and iniquity. He has an idea of what goes on in those kinds of places, knows that the minute you walk in you’re subjected to witnessing blatant fornication and adultery. He’s too pure to step foot in there. He wouldn’t want to take God in there, he’s sure that God would smite them all on the spot, and while that would be justice for the lives they live, he doesn’t think he’d like to be witness to that. It would hurt him, all those souls lost to Hades because they chose to deny God the Creator and indulge in sins of the flesh. So, right then and there, Jensen decides that this demon is going to be someone else’s problem. He’s not going to defile himself by stepping foot in that Sodom. Instead, he flips through his Bible Study appointment book and busies himself with choosing who will get to study the word of God with him today.
::
Later that morning, he finds himself at the home of one Rebecca Foster because she seemed like the one with the most questions, and he sought to put her at ease. He adjusts his clerical collar before ringing her doorbell. He steps back, waiting patiently and is shocked when she opens the door with tears in her eyes.
“Father!” she cries, clinging to the door. “I’m so glad you’re here. You couldn’t have had better timing!” Before Jensen can register anything, she’s reaching for him and pulling him inside. “My son. It’s my son,” she mumbles in a thick voice. “He thinks he has encountered one.”
When Jensen is led into the troubled woman’s living room, he is immediately greeted by the sight of a traumatized young man, whose name he can’t remember, curled in on himself on the sofa. His clothes are torn and dirty and his eyes flit around the room like a spooked animal’s would. “Father.” he hears the frightened hitch in the boy’s voice. “I…” His mother rushes to him just as he breaks down in tears. Jensen closes his eyes briefly, asking God for wisdom. He walks over to the loveseat which stands a little ways off the side of the sofa and takes a seat. “I want you to tell me exactly what happened, when it happened, where it happened, how it happened and what you saw,” Jensen says in a low voice. “We need to be certain that it is, indeed, one of the Evil One’s minions and not just some psychopath.” He leans forward, locking on the young man’s terrified gaze. “Tell me what happened.”
The boy, Joshua, Jensen finally remembers, seems to retreat into himself before answering. “Me and a bunch of guys went to this bar last night…” Jensen raises his eyebrow. If this demon is the same one his hunter friends were telling him about then… Jensen will confront Josh about that later. “And we’re drinkin’, havin’ fun when this… this fuckin’…”
“Language!” his mother hisses.
“…giant comes up to me and I… well I was alone… my buddies went off somewhere…” Jensen nods as he translates it in his head: he went off to the back room of the bar to do Lord knows what with that man. “And he starts kissin’ me and I’m like, dude no, but he doesn’t stop an’ he’s fuckin’ strong too…”
“Joshua.” His mother flinches at the swear word.
“…And I’m tryna push ‘im off but he’s just laughin’ and that’s when I see it.” The boy shivers, closing his eyes. “His eyes… they were hazel but then they just, like, flicked to black. The entire freakin’ eye was just this inky black colour and he…” He trails off into a broken sob and leans into his mother’s embrace. “Father Ackles, please, man, don’t make me say it..”
“He crawled into the house this morning,” his mother fills in, voice thick with tears. “I was so worried about him after he didn’t return last night. You can only imagine my fright and concern when I saw my son drag himself in looking like this.”
Jensen purses his lips, trying to tap into his empathy. “Alright,” he says in a soothing voice. “Tell me what he looked like.”
“He was like… a gazillion feet tall,” the youth says, sniffling. “Legs at least a mile long. He had, like I said, these hazel eyes that kept shiftin’ colours and, like, floppy brown hair. And dimples.” Joshua shudders, eyes closing. “Deep dimples.”
A flash of memory attacks Jensen’s mind. Dimples? Hazel eyes? Floppy brown hair? Jensen knew a kid like that. Tristan. They’d parted ways years and years ago, less than companionably. Jensen’s heart aches at the thought that the sweet kid he met back in high school could now be possessed. He closes his eyes briefly and sends up a quick plea for Tristan’s soul; praying that he be forgiven for everything. When his eyes open, he holds his hands out to the little family. “Let us pray,” he says in his official priest voice. “Let us ask God to have mercy on the poor soul who’s been chosen by this demon. Let us pray for God to outstretch his protecting hand over Joshua for we know not where these things are going to strike next.”
The weeping mother and the traumatized son both nod, each taking one of Jensen’s hands into their own. The three of them sit with joined hands as Jensen begins the prayer. He blesses all the saints and Mary, the mother of them all, before getting on with the real purpose of the prayer. He asks God to cleanse them of their unrighteousness and to bless them. He prays earnestly for forgiveness for Joshua and protection. He claims every promise God ever made over this family, begging for a shield to be erected around them to keep them safe from the advances of Satan.
When the prayer is finished, Jensen beckons to Joshua and they both step outside. “What’s the name of the bar?” he asks the youth once the door is closed.
Joshua squirms, avoiding Jensen’s gaze and Jensen puts a firm hand on his shoulder. “I’m not going to condemn you, son,” he says earnestly. “Just tell me and I might be able to save many other young ones like you. This a chance for you to repent of your sins.”
Joshua sighs heavily, eyes glinting with tears of shame. “Sans Nom,” he replies in a small voice. “The gay bar, downtown.”
Jensen nods, eyes serious, as he lets the youth go and turns to head back to his car.
Jared
A smoldering cigarette dangles from Jared’s long, elegant fingers as he watches his best friend, Chad, fail miserably at Guitar Hero. “Dude,” Jared grins, taking a drag of his cigarette. “You’d think that bein’ a demon would give you more coordination.” He laughs when Chad shoots him a glare. “Not apologizin’,” he says with a wink.
“Fuck you,” Chad spits, ripping the guitar off his shoulder and tossing it one side. “You’re talkin’ as if you’re oh, so perfect. But, remind me, who tripped over thin air yesterday?” Chad grins meanly at Jared, but it’s tinged with amusement.
“Not my fault,” Jared chuckles, grinding his cigarette into a nearby ashtray. “Tristan’s clumsy as fuck, dear thing.”
“He still in there?”
“Yeah.” Jared stretches, lazily scratching his side. “We get along well for the most part. Dude, I’ll never forget the scare he gave me when he woke up. I thought he was dead!” He chuckles, remembering his first conversation with Tristan. “Sweet kid,” he tells Chad. “I think we’re on our way to becoming, like, one being, y’know?”
“Congrats,” Chad says, stealing a cigarette from Jared’s pack, ignoring his protests. “I think Michael was on his way to bein’ a demon long before I got here. Sometimes I wonder how he and Tristan even became friends. Tristan’s so sensitive from what you’ve told me and how you’ve changed. Michael’s so… like me.”
“True… wait, what? I’ve changed?” Jared bristles at the accusation. “I have not!”
“Yeah, you have,” Chad mumbles around the cigarette he’s trying to light. Task accomplished, he tosses his lighter at Jared and continues speaking. “You smile more, you laugh more. You cry more. You cry at those fuckin’ adopt-an-animal infomercials.” He takes a puff of his cigarette; blows out the smoke. “You haven’t even kicked Tristan’s dogs, not once!”
“He asked me not to hurt them,” Jared murmurs dejectedly.
“Exactly!” Chad crows, laughing as he takes another drag.
“Look, fucker, you try being completely evil while living with this big ball of sunshine. Maybe if you’re nice I’ll let you meet him.”
“No, thanks,” Chad says around his cigarette. “I’m allergic to cute.”
Jared has to laugh. Shaking his head in mirth at his friend, he stands and stretches. “Now, excuse me, failure. Let me show you how a real expert plays Guitar Hero.” Chad shoves at him playfully and Jared just laughs some more.
“Fuck you, man,” Chad grins. “You suck harder at this game than I do. That’s sayin’ somethin’.”
“Hey!” Jared points an accusatory finger at Chad. “Don’t judge my beautiful human for being a clumsy, goofy, dorky…” His voice trails off and he looks up at the ceiling before grinning crookedly. “Sorry, T. As I was sayin’, Chad, don’t judge Tristan for being a klutz. ‘S my job.”
“Sure,” Chad says with a grin. “Hey, let’s order some pizza. I’m bored.”
“How childish are you?” Jared gives an exaggerated gasp. “I am not going to indulge you in your need for a food fight, Chad Michael Murray!”
Chad simply raises an eyebrow and Jared dissolves into laughter once more. “Okay, you dick. But you’re payin’.”
::
Once alone, Jared sighs in relief, eyes blackened. “I love Chad,” the demon says. “But he’s a bit much in too large a dose. I don’t know how you coped with Michael.”
Yeah, Tristan laughs softly, the sound almost a whisper in the Jared’s head. Sometimes I wonder how we became such good friends.
“I do, too,” Jared says with a soft smile. “Care to tell me?”
Too long a story, Tristan says with a sigh. Don’t really wanna relive it. Met him at a really bad time of my teen years, man. He helped, sorta. Not completely. Don’t think anyone can help completely.
Jared sits down in a recliner with a left over slice of pizza in his hand. “You were supposed to tell me what happened, remember?”
Tristan grumbles and the demon prepares for a full-out argument but then he hears a soft sigh and knows that Tristan has relented.
I was thirteen, Tristan mumbles softly. I was naïve, not comfortable in my own skin. I had a few friends but no one who I could really… talk to, y’know? Then, Tristan’s voice takes on an almost reverent quality. I met Jensen. He was seventeen, he was the lifeguard at the community pool and saved me one day. I was runnin’ along the edge the pool, stupid I know, when I slipped and hit my head and fell into the water. Next thing I know, I’m in a hospital and Jensen’s next to me and he’s like smilin’, happy that I finally woke up. Then we’re datin’ I guess? We were kinda exclusive. He was in high school and I was in junior high but he’d drive me home and stuff. We kissed a lot, fooled around, hand jobs, blow jobs… well, he blew me. But, anyway.
Jared can feel his face flush - Tristan must be blushing.
So, yeah… I really liked him. Hell, I think I loved him. He made me so fuckin’ happy. Tristan gives a little rueful laugh. It was fuckin’ pathetic, but I’d look so eagerly for his car at the end of school and I was, like, so cool because I had this high schooler pickin’ me up from school. And no one guessed that we were more than friends but I became like instantly popular because Jensen was hangin’ out with me. I remember one day he actually came into class to get me and he… Jesus. Tristan’s breath hitches slightly at the memory. He looked so fuckin’ good. Tight jeans, tight vest, leather jacket, hair that fell over his sunglasses but it wasn’t stupid and floppy like mine.
I’m lookin’ for a Tristan Padalecki, he said, Tristan mutters dreamily. He took the sunglasses off and looked around the class and then those green eyes locked on me and he grinned and I don’t even know what happened next. I guess he managed to charm the skirt off my teacher but the only thing I remember is that grin and then I’m in his car. And we’re cruisin’ down the highway and I’m like, what’s all this? And he looks at me and smiles all secret like and he says, got something to do first. And he takes me on a fuckin’ picnic… A picnic! I was on top of the world, man. The most beautiful guy to ever exist took me on a picnic.
Jared frowns, finally taking a bite of his pizza. “So what happened after that?”
He dumped me and left town. Tristan says, voice suddenly turning bitter. Dropped out of high school, and disappeared. I’ve never seen him since.
Jared feels a flash of anger. How could someone hurt sweet Tristan? “I hate him,” he seethes. “I’ve never even met him, but I hate him.”
Tristan laughs softly, sadly. Don’t hate him, he murmurs quietly. Just. Sometimes I wish I never met him. I’ve honestly never been the same, too serious, too calculating, always looking for the other shoe to drop. But… I’m also glad I met him because those few months were probably the happiest of my life. I just… kinda miss him.
Jensen
It’s been a few hours since he got home from the Fosters’ residence. He’s been arguing with himself ever since. He initially wanted nothing to do with this demon but now he’s promised the Fosters that he’d try his best to stop it. However, he’s still not sure if he really wants to step foot into a place steeped in such iniquity. There’s a part of him that fears God would smite the club, just like He smote Sodom and Gomorra, and he wouldn’t be able to get out of the building in time. He gets on his knees and sends up a long and detailed prayer, asking God for His help and guidance. Normally, he stays in that position until he hears that still, small voice telling him what he should do - it’s been about ten minutes now and he still hasn’t heard anything. With a sigh, he sends up a prayer asking for forgiveness, accepting his fate, and gets to his feet.
He sighs again, a slow sigh that seems to come from deep within him, as he roots in the very back of his closet for his most secular looking clothing. He shudders as he pulls out a leather jacket, a white vest and the tightest pair of jeans he doesn’t even remember he owned. He stares at the outfit in disdain, but knows he has to look his most sexually appealing in order to lure a demon who is cruising gay clubs into his trap.
“Lord save us all,” Jensen mumbles as he strips down to go take a shower. Like this morning, he turns the water up as hot as he can take it, hoping that this cleansing will make up for the sins he’s about to commit.
Once clean, skin flushed a delicate pink from the heat, Jensen sprays on a mixture of axe and cologne that always made Danneel swoon. His heart aches a little at the thought of his late wife, but it also serves to strengthen his resolve about sending this demon back to Hell. He moisturizes his skin because the denim of the jeans rubbing on his legs would be uncomfortable on dry skin. He breaks out a dusty bottle of hairspray, styling his hair so it sticks up tastefully, spraying just a bit of the hairspray to keep it in place.
He checks the time, and upon seeing that it’s only seven he decides to have a drink to calm his nerves. He can’t even count the amount of times he’s sent up a prayer of forgiveness before he actually commits the sin today alone. He grabs a bottle of whiskey that he keeps hidden in his Liquor Hell. The amber glow of the liquid calms Jensen just at sight and as he opens the bottle and takes his first drink, his body warms all the way down to his fingertips and by the time it’s nearing nine, he’s on the nice side of drunk from the whiskey.
Since walking to the car doesn’t seem like too big a challenge, Jensen decides that he’ll be fine to drive. He drives slowly, eyes never straying from the road, taking great pains to focus on every twist of the road and change of lights.
The minute he pulls into the parking lot of the club, he starts feeling sick. He knows it’s not the alcohol he consumed; it’s the evil emanating from the building. He whispers one more prayer of forgiveness before he finally works up the courage to get out of the car. He examines his reflection in the window. He bites his lips just to make them a tad redder, a technique he learned from Danneel when she was caught without lipstick, and spikes up his hair just a little bit more. He straightens his jacket, dusts invisible lint from his jeans and smoothes out non-existent creases on his vest.
He pats the emergency rosary in his back pocket for good measure and makes his way to the sinful establishment. He can hear the music before he even gets within two and he cringes at the deep bass and crude lyrics. His hands are shaking as he shows the bouncer his ID and his heart beats faster when said bouncer leers at him. He’s always especially been uncomfortable around big buff men who are so obviously queer it hurts. He edges past the bouncer who grab at his ass and, thank God, his squeak is drowned out by the music.
He can’t remember the last time he was looked at and mentally undressed by a bunch of people, let alone men, and the feeling is unsettling. He wants to scream at them, to tell them that what they’re doing is wrong, that they don’t have to follow in the paths of iniquity, but he knows none of them would listen to him. He’d probably get thrown out of the club and then where would he be in his quest to find this demon?
So Jensen ignores every taunt and jab aimed at him and his figure as he scans the room for a man, any man, resembling Joshua Foster’s description. His fingers itch to punch a guy that makes a comment about his ‘cocksucking lips’, but he holds himself back, despite being a little bit drunk and he’s pretty proud of himself for it.
He’s standing in the middle of the club, looking like an idiot, and scantily clad men drift all around him: dancing, drinking, chatting, kissing and someone’s even sucking a dick in the corner - then he sees him. Jensen’s eyes go wide, his heart pounds and his hands get a little sweaty. It can’t be, it can’t be! He never expected to see him again in a million years, and now he has to exorcize him? Sweet Tristan who was so gorgeous, even at thirteen? Jensen feels dizzy and it’s probably shock coupled with the alcohol that makes him sway on his feet.
Tristan’s standing at the bar, talking to some guy, laughing, throwing his head back and Jensen’s eyes are drawn to the line of his throat. He can feel his jeans get uncomfortably tight and the nausea and disgust rising, leaving a bitter taste on the back of his tongue.
Think of the good of the town, Jensen mentally chants. Think of the good of the town. He shoulders his way to the bar, gives the bartender his best smile and orders a shot. He can feel Tristan’s eyes on him and it gives him a thrill he seeks to suppress.
Jared
That’s him! Tristan yells in Jared’s head. Jared takes a moment to note that Tristan no longer sounds like an actual voice, but more like a conscious thought, but he has no time to ponder about that.
“Who?” Jared asks quietly, turning back to the twink he’s flirting with and giving him a warm smile to disguise the word.
Jensen!
Twink be damned. Jared spins around in his seat, locking his eyes on the man who broke Tristan’s heart. He gives him a brilliant smile then waves the bartender over. “Anything this stud orders is on me,” he purrs, keeping his eyes on Jensen.
He sees Jensen tense then relax, and maybe he’s changed. Maybe he’s not homophobic like he used to be. Maybe Jared can win Jensen back. For Tristan, of course.
“Thanks,” Jensen replies in a soft purr of his own, and damn if it doesn’t send a delicious shiver down Jared’s spine.
“No need to thank me, Jen,” Jared says, looking Jensen up and down. That’s the outfit he wore to meet me… Tristan, Jared thinks. He smiles softly. “Fancy seeing you here.”
He sees Jensen’s eyes flash for a second but it’s gone so fast, Jared thinks he imagined it, as cliché as that sounds. “I could say the same thing,” Jensen says. He looks shy as if not totally confident in his looks and how can this possibly be the guy who had the gall to break Jared Tristan’s heart all those years ago? “How’ve you been? Long time no see, Trish.”
Jared pauses for a second until a soft that’s his nickname for me echoes in his head but he can’t tell whether or not Tristan said it... or he if just thought it. He orders himself gin on the rocks when the bartender gets back to them with Jensen’s shot. He watches as Jensen knocks it back, eyes tracking the bob of his Adam’s apple.
“Been fine,” Jared says with a little shrug. He lowers his gaze, channeling Tristan’s timidity. “Missed you, though.”
Once again, Jensen’s eyes flash and he tenses ever so slightly, but it’s over quickly and he’s giving Jared a rueful smile. “I missed you too. I’m sorry I ended things… the way I did.”
“I forgive you,” Jared says sweetly, knocking his drink back upon receiving it. “But, I think I know a way you can begin to make it up to me.” He starts to stand and holds out his hand while looking down at Jensen. He gives him a soft smile, all Tristan, no Jared, and by now he’s not so sure where Tristan ends and he begins; all he knows is this smile feels natural. He bites his lower lip, shy and sweet. “Dance with me, Jen?”
Jensen looks torn but he gives Jared a smile and takes his hand.
He pulls the other man out to the dance floor just as Mind in the Gutter ends and Birthday Cake begins. Jared spins Jensen around so Jensen’s back is against his chest. “Relax,” he whispers into the other man’s ear. “I got ya, Jen.” He rolls his hips upwards, relishing in the choked off moan it elicits. He slides his hands down to rest on Jensen’s hips, grinding into the other man’s ass and biting back a moan when Jensen responds by pressing back against him.
Jensen reaches back and his fingers tangle in Jared’s hair as he rocks his hips back into Jared’s. Jared’s never felt such a thrill in his life, not even from the other men he’s been with since he’s arrived on Earth. He lowers his head slightly to suckle a mark onto the skin of Jensen’s neck, his heart melting at the needy little whimper that escapes Jensen and whoa, whoa, whoa, his heart? He and Tristan are spending way too much time together.
Then Jensen pulls his arm away, bending and straightening his knees in time to the music as he slowly bends at the waist, and holy Christ , when Chris Brown sings ‘I wanna fuck you, right now’, Jared can’t help but agree. Hands still on Jensen’s waist, he grinds to the beat of the song, pressing close to the curve of Jensen’s ass. Jensen looks back at him, finger in his mouth, biting on the knuckle and why the fuck is that so hot. Normally it looks stupid and Jared hates it but everything about Jensen is so sexy, right down to his freckles and bow legs and damn, damn, damn.
He pulls Jensen’s back up, back pressed against Jared’s chest, bodies undulating in tandem as he goes back to mouthing at Jensen’s neck. He’s pliant beneath Jared’s hands, hips stuttering as Jared bites down firmly at the pulse point. “Wanna fuck you, Jen,” Jared says, murmuring just loud enough that Jensen can still hear him over the music. “Never got to back in junior high, wanna do it so bad. Always did.”
“Yeah,” he hears Jensen breathe, pulse jumping under his teeth. “Yeah, okay, Tristan. Okay.”
::
They take Jensen’s car because Jared walked there. They almost get into a couple accidents on the way to where the fuck ever Jensen’s taking them but it’s kind of Jared’s fault because he can’t stop turning Jensen’s face to kiss him within an inch of his life.
They finally manage to get to this old dilapidated house and the haunted quality of it makes Jared shiver because damn, if this isn’t his cup of tea. The minute they get out of Jensen’s car, a Chevy Impala or something, Jared isn’t paying much attention to the car, Jared has Jensen flat against the hood of it, kissing him rough and deep. Jensen kisses back with just as much enthusiasm, sucking Jared’s lower lip into his mouth and licking at his tongue.
Jared pulls away, panting and muttering. “Let’s get inside,” he suggests and Jensen nods.
Once inside the house, they’re making out again like teenagers, moving through halls and down stairs while licking into each other’s mouths hungrily. Jared has to remind himself that this is the first time Jensen’s seeing Tristan in years, so it’s natural that he’d be a bit obsessive with his kisses. Jared takes it all in stride, fisting the material of Jensen’s shirt as he blindly leads them through the house. His cock is a hard, aching ridge against the zipper of his jeans and he needs to fuck or get fucked before he explodes.
“Fuck, fuck, Jen…” he hisses out into the kiss and Jensen responds with a “Yeah, Tristan, I know.” Finally there’re no more stairs, no more hallways and Jared lands in a chair with a thud and Jensen’s straddling him and there’s that hot press of denim covered ass on his erection and he has to dig his fingers into his palms to keep from crying out right then. He feels Jensen tie his hands down then he breaks the kiss so he can tie his feet and dammit, Jared loves them kinky.
It’s not until he looks up and sees the rosary that’s suddenly dangling from Jensen’s fingers that he has a slight inclination of what’s happened. His gaze travels up to the ceiling and sees the painted devil’s trap and honestly? He fights a smile, because the last priest who tried to exorcise him got torn apart muscle by bloody muscle, with just a snap of his fingers. Instead of letting the smile through, he feigns confusion. “Jen? What are you doing? What’s that painting up there? Jen? You’re scaring me...”
“Don’t you call me that,” Jensen says in a low voice. “It’s Father Ackles to worthless beings like you. You’re not Tristan. I don’t know who you are, but you’re not Tristan!”
Jensen
He’s grateful when the demon finally stops the act. Now he can look at this… thing without thinking about Tristan, well not as much. “What’s your name?” He asks, voice low and authoritative. “Tell me your name!”
“Jared,” the demon replies, stretching Tristan’s mouth in an awful grimace of a smirk that shouldn’t be making his hard-on throb.
“Hope there’s room for you back in Hell, Jared,” Jensen spits out, furious that this thing possessed someone who, despite the act being a sin and a mistake, was such a big part of his life.
“Low blow, Father Ackles,” Jared purrs with a smirk and tilts his head to the side. “I gotta say, though, I thought this was gonna be some weird kink o’ yours. I was really getting’ into it, too. I like bein’ tied up, y’know.” Jared’s eyes glint yellow. “Makes me all tingly.”
The yellow tint is strange and Jensen doesn’t really know what to make of it but he steadfastly refuses to pay attention to Jared’s taunts. He doesn’t know if he can do this, cause Tristan such pain, but he has to. His skin is still tingling crawling with arousal revulsion from what he had to do to lure Jared here. He dunks his emergency rosary into a barrel of water he keeps nearby and begins praying over it, not before trying to will his erection away, though.
“Think about what you’re doin’ to Tristan, Jensen,” Jared sneers. “He likes me. Granted, he hates some of the stuff I’ve done, but I’ve changed, much to my dismay, and to his credtit, but he likes me now. I gave him the confidence you took away.” Jensen pauses in his prayer, heart pounding faster. “Yeah, that’s right,” the demon says with a mean laugh. “You took somethin’ really special from him. Yet he still managed to snag himself a pretty girl - I killed her, but details, details - but you took his confidence all those years ago and I will never forgive you for that. He has, but I won’t.”
“I’m sorry,” Jensen whispers, heart breaking as he remembers every detail of the days spent with Tristan back in high school. “I didn’t mean…” He turns to look Jared in the eye. “I became a Christian and God…”
Jared gets angry then, eyes turning black. “God?! You break this poor guy’s heart because of God? What kinda god would want that to happen? How fuckin’ despicable are you, really?” There’s a sharp cracking sound as the ceiling of the basement splits down in two. Jensen looks up in surprise at the now useless devil’s trap and back at Jared in fright.
Jared breaks his restraints easily, standing so quickly that the chair topples over. He stalks towards Jensen with a thunderous expression on his face. All thoughts of God-given authority flee from Jensen’s mind as Jared approaches him and backs him into the wall. His liquid black eyes seem to darken with rage.
Jensen’s breath hitches as Jared presses his body hard against Jensen’s. “The only reason I’m not ripping you apart right now is because Tristan’s in my head, begging me not to,” Jared growls, breath hot and tickling against Jensen’s ear. “He still loves you,” Jared snarls. “I really don’t know why. Especially not after you broke his heart. You were his reason for living, Jensen. You were his smile. You looked at him and made him feel like the most important person in the world. I can’t believe you took all that from him.” Jared sneers, expression a thunder cloud of explosive anger. “There’s nothing worse than a self-righteous priest.”
Jensen’s brain tells him to spit out the exorcism; he’d have the element of surprise and maybe be able to save Tristan from this demon. But his body tells him something completely different. There’s something familiar yet different about the feeling of Jared’s body. He’s taller than Jensen, now, for one, and his body has filled out nicely with muscles. Jensen lets out a hitched moan as his eyes close. He doesn’t want to see this, doesn’t want to see his body betray him for lusts of the flesh.
“God, you’re such an idiot,” he hears Jared mumble before he feels the pressure of familiar lips against his. He wants to shove this abomination off himself but he can’t. Instead he finds himself leaning into the kiss, wanting more. When Jared’s hands rest on his hips he just throws his arms around the demon’s neck, drawing him closer and deepening the kiss. His skin feels like it’s on fire just from Jared’s touch through the fabric of his shirt. Jared’s no kid, that’s for sure. He kisses like he means it, not shy anymore. Jared licks into Jensen’s mouth hungrily, running his tongue over the rough planes of the roof of his mouth and the edges of his teeth. He sucks Jensen’s lower lip into his mouth, biting down roughly on it and all Jensen can really do is stand there, whimpering and trembling in Jared’s arms.
Jared pulls away slowly, lips swollen and red from their kiss. His eyes are no longer black and the grip on Jensen’s hips has loosened slightly. Jensen locks his eyes on Jared’s hazel gaze and suddenly he’s seventeen with a thirteen year old Tristan in his arms. Thirteen; still trying to figure himself out. Too tall, arms too long, feet too big, hair too floppy. “God, you’re gorgeous.” Jensen can’t tell whether that’s him speaking now or eighteen years ago.
“Pathetic,” Jared snorts even though his voice breaks slightly as he moves completely away from Jensen and disappears into thin air.
Jensen runs his hand over his face, sending a prayer heavenward for forgiveness. He eyes the barrel of water in which his rosary still floats. He crosses over to it and dunks his head into the cool water. Just in case.
Prologue | Part Two