Fic: I put a spell on you (because you're mine)
The walk to Jared’s dorm room was awkwardly silent. Jared hoped that his roommate Chad would be out so that he wouldn’t have to explain what was going on, but no such luck.
“Dude!” Chad called out, as soon as Jared opened the dorm room door. “Do you wanna…” he trailed off when he spotted Jensen and gave the older man a very Chad-esque, unsubtle once over.
“Nice tat,” he said finally, putting down his x-box controller and climbing to his feet. He inclined his head questioningly at Jensen and waggled his eyebrows at Jared.
“This is Jensen,” Jared said.
“Uh huh,” Chad stared at Jared, clearly anticipating more of an explanation.
Jared opened his cupboard and got out his bright green hard shell suitcase. He hefted it up onto his bed and started to pull clothes out of drawers and off of hangers and put them in the suitcase.
Chad watched him in silence for a moment and then looked from Jared to Jensen and then back to Jared again. “Dude,” he said, “what the actual fuck?”
“I’m moving in with him for a while,” Jared didn’t make eye contact, just kept shoving stuff in his suitcase. “It’s a… thing.”
“A thing,” Chad said flatly, narrowing his eyes and squinting irritably at both Jared and Jensen in turn. “Is it a magi thing?” he asked finally, tone a little hesitant.
Jared shrugged and snapped his suitcase shut.
Chad turned to Jensen, hands on hips and mouth pursed prissily. “Did you put a spell on him?” he demanded.
“Me?” Jensen’s tone was incredulous. “I’m not a magus.”
Chad turned to face Jared who was standing awkwardly by his bed, holding his suitcase by the pullout handle, wheels on the ground, with a backpack bulging with school books slung over one shoulder.
“Did you put a spell on him?” Chad asked.
Jared shook his head. Chad raised a skeptical eyebrow when no further explanation was forthcoming.
“We, uh, new each other back in Texas,” Jared said finally. “And, uh, we haven’t seen each other since we were kids, but we met tonight in the library and…hit it off and… I’ve been studying too hard lately, so…”
Chad’s incredulous expression slowly morphed into one of pride. “Attaboy, Jay!” he said. “I knew there was a real flesh and blood boy buried under that robotic, all-work-and-no-play exterior!” He slapped Jared on the shoulder that wasn’t encumbered by a back pack. “I’m into pussy myself, but even I’d consider hitting that,” he nodded at Jensen, who looked hugely affronted.
“Bye Chad,” Jared said and hurried to the door.
“Have fun, boys,” Chad leered, before winking obnoxiously.
“Sorry about that,” Jared said as they headed for the student car park. “Chad is… Chad is Chad.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Jensen said. “There’s one in every group of friends. We’ve got Rosie. Michael Rosenbaum. Loyal, but no filter. And possibly slightly nuts.”
“Sounds like Chad,” Jared muttered.
They lapsed into silence again, but it didn’t feel quite as awkward this time.
Jensen lived in a white-rendered apartment complex, which was only two floors high, but made up for lack of height by sprawling through sizeable gardens filled with colorful flowerbeds and a lot of trees; conifers, gum trees and a big weeping willow. There was a big swimming pool too. Jared couldn’t help his low impressed whistle.
“How much does this cost?” he asked.
“$400.00 a month when it’s split between three people. I’m in one bedroom and my buddy Chris and his girlfriend Charisma are in the second bedroom.”
Jared frowned. There was a Charisma in the Magus Pride Club. It wasn’t exactly a common name, but surely, if Jensen had been living with a magus, he would’ve mentioned it? Maybe it was a different Charisma. Or maybe she simply wasn’t widely Out.
Jensen’s apartment was on the ground floor, not far from the swimming pool. The front door opened onto a small living room which contained a battered olive green three-seater sofa, a matching arm chair and a wooden rocking chair. A man with long blondish hair was sitting on the rocking chair strumming a guitar and a short man with floppy brown hair and big blue eyes was curled up on the sofa with Charisma from the Magus Pride Club.
“Jared!” she said, her eyes widening as she untangled herself from the man who Jared assumed was Chris.
Jensen frowned. “You two know each other?”
Charisma sent waves of emotion at Jared; her feelings of calmness and open contentedness toward her boyfriend and an edge of concern that she felt toward Jensen. It wasn’t quite telepathy, but most adult magi were adept at inferring what was implied and Jared gathered that Charisma’s boyfriend was fully aware that she was a magus and was cool with it, but that she hadn’t told Jensen because she hadn’t been certain how he would take it.
He nodded his understanding almost imperceptibly and then replied to Jensen. “We’ve met.”
Jensen’s frown deepened, but before he could ask any more questions, Chris stood up with a frown of his own.
“What’s with the tat? Shit, son. That should’ve taken a lot of sessions. How…?” he turned to stare at Jared and then looked back at Jensen.
“What’s going on?” he said flatly. The blond man stopped playing his guitar.
Jensen took a deep breath. “Chris, Charisma, Steve. This is Jared. He’s gonna be staying with me for a while.”
“What’s with the tat?” Chris repeated, getting right up in Jensen’s face and running a finger across the colored swirls. “Is it a fake?”
Jensen swatted at him and tried to push him away, calling him an asshole.
Charisma, meanwhile, had gravitated to Jared’s side and pulled off his scarf. “You have a matching…tattoo,” she said.
“What?” Jensen spun to face him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jared shrugged. “I didn’t know.”
Jensen muttered something about people who wore stupid, foofy scarves in summer and Charisma raised troubled, big brown eyes to meet Jared’s. “Jared…is this…is this the mark of nasc anam?”
Jared’s eyes widened. “You’ve heard of it?”
Charisma nodded. “Fourth Year Thaumaturgy. We just learned about it this year. It’s very rare. And something the Society likes to keep fairly quiet about because it’s so widely misunderstood. Not to mention the fact that it’s caused so much persecution.”
“Wait a minute,” Jensen said. “You’re a w-” he caught sight of Chris’s darkening expression and stopped himself. “You’re a magus and you didn’t tell me?”
“Gee,” Jared said, voice laced with sarcasm. “I wonder why.”
Jensen rubbed at the back of his neck and lowered his eyes. “Sorry,” he looked up at Charisma. “Old habits. Not an excuse, I know. Anyway…it’s not an issue for me. I’m not prejudiced; I’ve just got some unlearning to do.”
He nodded at Jared and then cleared his throat. “So apparently we’re soulmates. His magic connected with my soul and now we can’t be apart without it causing me pain.”
“Oh,” Chris sat down heavily on the sofa and looked up at Charisma with sad eyes. “So we’re not…?”
Charisma went and sat beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. “It’s really rare,” she said. “There’s almost no chance of me finding my actual soulmate.”
“But if you did,” Chris’s smile was pained, “you’d leave me for them.”
It wasn’t a question and Jared wasn’t surprised when Charisma nodded reluctantly. “But it’s not gonna happen,” she said. “I love you a lot, Chris. Just because my magic didn’t latch onto your soul, doesn’t mean we can’t be happy together.”
“Right,” Jensen said. “You have a relationship built on mutual interests, mutual values, knowing each other and working your way up to love. With us,” he waved a hand in between himself and Jared, “we don’t even know each other. People aren’t gonna trust it. There’ll be a lot of people who’ll say that he bewitched me, that I’m a victim here.”
Jared swallowed past the lump in his throat and wondered if Jensen felt like a victim.
“Jensen’s right,” he said quietly. “We didn’t get to decide anything. My magic took that choice away from us.”
“Bullshit,’ Steve said, suddenly and loudly. “All your magic did was tell the two of you that you’re perfect for each other. Now you date, get to know each other, just like any normal couple.”
Jensen scowled at him. “I can’t be in a different room to him without keeling over!” he spat. “He’s gonna have to come with me when I take a shit! How is that normal?”
“Only until the bond solidifies,” Charisma said soothingly.
Jensen made an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah, well. Who the Hell knows when that’s gonna be. He doesn’t do casual sex.”
Chris frowned. “I think I’m missing something.”
Jared explained about the nasc aman and how the bond was completed via an act of lovemaking.
“Huh,” Chris regarded him thoughtfully. “So unless your magic sucks big time, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that you find Jensen attractive?”
Jared nodded.
“Then it shouldn’t be a hardship to do what you gotta to complete the bond. Seems like you owe him that.”
Jared shook his head. “We barely know each other. I don’t want to just… That’s not… I’m not…”
Jensen slipped his hand in Jared’s. “And no-one expects you to,” he glared at Chris. “I can’t believe you, man. You really think I want to fuck someone who doesn’t really want it? What the Hell’s wrong with you?”
Chris’s smile was smug. “Seems like you two already like and respect each other, and share the same values. Steve’s right. You just gotta get to know each other a bit better and the rest’ll fall into place.”
The sofa wasn’t big enough for an adult male to stretch out on and besides, Jared couldn’t sleep in a different room to Jensen without causing him pain; something Jared had no wish to do. Jensen’s bed was a queen, which was good, and it was covered with a royal and navy blue Mavericks’ quilt set, which was less good.
“Aw, man,” Jared said. “Mavs? Really?”
Jensen looked him up and down and then sighed. “No way. Please tell me you’re not a Spurs guy?”
“Born and raised,” Jared said.
Jensen turned away from Jared and started to take his clothes off. “Well that settles it,” he said as he pulled his tee-shirt off, revealing a broad, muscular back. “Your magic don’t know shit. No soulmate of mine could be a Spurs fan.”
Jared was a little caught up dealing with his suddenly dry mouth and the way his dick was starting to sit up and take notice. He swallowed and tried not to think about how much he really wanted to pepper that back with kisses and kitten licks; to trace his tongue around the smattering of freckles he could see stretched across Jensen’s shoulders like a constellation. When he didn’t respond, Jensen looked over his shoulder at him, the playful smile fading from his face when he met Jared’s eyes.
“Uh, not for nothing, Jay,” he said, “but the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.”
Jared blushed. “That’s not gonna happen,” he said. “Not tonight, anyway. But, well, my magic may not care that you have really bad taste in basketball teams, but it wouldn’t have bonded with you if we weren’t,” he shifted uncomfortably, “if we weren’t sexually compatible. So, yeah,” he shrugged and took off his over-shirt. “I think you’re hot. But, uh…” he blushed and trailed off uncertainly.
Jensen pulled off his jeans and socks and climbed into bed. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he said, before grinning and waggling his eyebrows obnoxiously. “And it’s clear to me now that your magic figured you needed someone to lead you away from the dark side,” his voice was lightly teasing, “and get you supporting the right Texan team. It obviously has your best interests at heart.”
Jared appreciated the way Jensen was trying to make the moment less awkward and he would have been enjoying the banter, the way they were ragging on each other for their respective basketball teams, if he hadn’t been able to see the colorful mark of nasc anam swirling around Jensen’s neck. Jared had rules for himself about sex and dating, but the way Jensen was leaning back against the headboard, bare-chested and with one knee propped up underneath the quilt, wasn’t helping Jared’s libido any. Jared wanted him; wanted to feel those soft, full lips against his own, wanted to feel the weight of Jensen’s cock in his hand, wanted to taste him. But not only was there Jared’s personal rule about not putting out until at least the third date, there was also a bigger issue at play here. The last thing he wanted was for Jensen (or Jensen’s family) to accuse him of rape, arguing that Jensen’s consent wasn’t real, just a result of witchcraft. It was important that they take things slowly.
“Jared?”
Jared blinked. He was standing stock still with his fingers entwined in the hem of his tee-shirt. He shook himself and focused on Jensen.
“It’s okay,” Jensen said, tone earnest and eyes imploring. “I swear that I won’t try anything. I’ll stay right on the edge of the bed, on my side, and I won’t try to touch you or anything. I would never try to force anyone to do anything they didn’t want to.”
“See, I know that,” Jared said, rapidly taking off the rest of his clothes and climbing into bed beside Jensen. “I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed by everything.”
“You’re telling me,” Jensen muttered. “Well. Good night,” he reached over and switched off the bedside lamp.
In the sudden darkness, the mattress moved and squeaked and the quilt jerked as Jensen lay down on the far side of the bed. Jared did likewise and whispered his own good night. He closed his eyes, back turned to Jensen, certain that he would never fall asleep. The next thing he knew, sunlight was streaming through the cracks in Jensen’s Venetian blinds and he and Jensen were face to face in the very center of the bed, arms and legs completely entangled. Jared opened his eyes to find a pair of green eyes staring straight at him.
“Freckles,” Jared murmured. And then, because his brain hadn’t quite come on line properly yet, “they’re adorable.”
Fortunately, Jensen’s only reaction was to flush a little, lowering his eyelashes like a shy southern belle. His plump, pink lips were only inches away from Jared’s and Jared really wanted to lean forward and kiss him. They both probably had some serious morning breath though, and besides, he didn’t want to send out any mixed messages.
Jensen cleared his throat. “I, uh, gotta answer a call of nature,” he said. “Didn’t wanna risk waking you up by trying to move.”
“Oh. Right.” They pulled apart and Jensen got up and padded out of the room.
Jared lay contentedly in bed for another couple of minutes before the memory of Jensen curled up in agony on the floor of the corridor at school hit him, and then he was scrambling out of bed and bolting to the bathroom, before he’d had a chance to fully process that he wasn’t picking up any distress from his soulmate.
“Jensen?”
“Peeing, man, I don’t need an-” Jensen shut up abruptly and glanced at Jared over his shoulder. “Oh shit. I didn’t even think,” he frowned. “I’ve still got a vague dull ache, but how come I’m not on the floor this time?”
Jared theorized that maybe Jensen had stored up enough ‘soulmate contact’ during the night they’d spent curled around each other to withstand some small separations, and Jensen seemed to accept that.
Jared went back to bed and Jensen headed into the kitchen to make coffee. When he came back he was carrying two mugs of freshly brewed coffee. “You still feeling okay?” Jared asked.
Jensen nodded. “The ache’s a lot worse now, but nothing like it was when I practically passed out yesterday.”
Jared’s heart clenched. Why did his magic have to cause his soulmate so much pain?
“Anyway, I put one sugar and cream in your coffee,” Jensen said as he handed Jared his cup. “I hope that’s okay?”
Jared took a sip. “Perfect!”
Jensen scratched at his head, his nose scrunched up. “It was weird,” he said. “It just…seemed like the right way to do it.”
Jared shrugged. “Gotta be something to do with this whole nasc aman thing, right? I’ll have to read up on it,” he frowned. “You know, between all the year-end assignments and exam study,” he sighed. “Fuck my life.”
Jensen-who was now back in bed, beside him-reached out and laid a hand on the back of his neck, before withdrawing it with a quick apology.
“It’s okay,” Jared hurried to reassure him. “You can touch me. I know it helps with the discomfort.”
Jensen flashed him a smile and sipped at his coffee. “You know,” he said. “I glad you’ve got a mark too. I was actually a little pissed when I thought that your magic had marked me up as belonging to you, but you weren’t marked as belonging to me.”
Jared’s heart did a little flip flop at the thought of Jensen belonging to him. Of him belonging to Jensen. It sent his blood racing and he had to grip his magic hard to stop it from sending excited sparks to swirl possessively around his soulmate.
“So,” Jensen said, completely oblivious to Jared’s inner-battle, “what’s on your agenda for the day?”
Jared pulled a face. “Studying and assignments. Saturday I’ve got a lunchtime shift down at Abracadabra Café, but until then, just studying and assignments.”
Jensen too, was cramming in all the last minute studying he could, so they agreed to spend the day at the library together. Jared really hoped he’d be able to keep his magic together this time.
Truthfully, Jensen was a little freaked. The way he’d just known how Jared took his coffee, the way he’d been half way to making it before it had even occurred to him that maybe he should ask the magus how he took it and the way his brain had adamantly insisted that he was doing it right, had left him feeling unsettled. It was like his brain; his soul was no longer just his and the thought was unnerving.
Still, the study session had gone well. Jared hadn’t let any magic sparks loose to come and dance around his head and Jensen’s studying had been surprisingly focused and productive. When they stopped for lunch, Jared mentioned that he was pleased with the amount of work he’d gotten through too. Maybe it was something to do with the bond. Or maybe they just worked well together. Lunch had been…enjoyable. Jared barely stopped talking and he seemed to know every third person who passed their table, but he was interesting and entertaining and Jensen enjoyed his company. He tried to keep in mind the point that both Steve and Chris had made, that all Jared’s magic did was let them know that they were perfect for each other, but it was hard when he could hear his mom’s voice in his head, hissing that magic wasn’t to be trusted, that witches weren’t to be trusted, that he’d been bewitched.
Still, with Jared sitting opposite him, stuffing his face with chicken tortilla and telling him earnestly between bites that even though he loved Mexican food, he always avoided refried beans because they made him gassy, well, Jensen couldn’t really picture him as a disciple of the devil. Especially not when he had lettuce caught between his front teeth.
“Jared? You’ve got a little something caught,” Jensen tapped at his own front teeth and then watched as Jared’s tongue darted out and licked at his lips before poking at his teeth. He adjusted himself surreptitiously and cleared his throat.
“Chris and Steve are playing at Cowboy Country tonight,” he said. “I was planning on going to watch them with Charisma and a couple other people. You interested?”
He said it nonchalantly, like he wasn’t intensely aware that if Jared refused to go, he couldn’t go either, but Jared’s eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically.
“Sounds awesome!” he said.
Cowboy Country was the most popular live country music bar in the area and on a Thursday night, it was always packed. Which gave Jensen a good excuse to entwine his fingers with Jared’s as they wove their way through the dense crowd of people toward the table near the stage that his group of friends always reserved whenever Chris and Steve were playing.
Charisma was there already, with her long-time friend James, and Tom was there with his boyfriend Michael, who had a possessive hand on Tom’s knee. In Jensen’s view, Tom was dating the wrong Michael. Michael Weatherly was, in Jensen’s humble (and so far unstated) opinion, a complete douchebag. For some obscure reason known best to himself, Michael seemed to have felt threatened by Jensen from the get-go, sure that Jensen was looking to poach his man. If Michael had actually had eyes in his head, he would’ve seen that he had more to fear from the other Michael; Rosie, whose unrequited love for their tall, blue-eyed friend was practically the stuff of legends.
It was James who noticed them first, his eyes widening and then narrowing as he watched them approach. Jensen felt Jared stiffen, almost imperceptibly, and then relax and he realized abruptly that James was probably a magus. Jensen’s mouth tightened. For someone who’d been certain he didn’t know any magi, he sure seemed to know a few magi.
Jensen greeted the gang and introduced Jared, guiding him down into a seat beside Charisma.
“Nice tats,” Michael said, the sneer obvious in his tone.
Jensen inclined his head briefly and turned to Tom. “Rosie not here tonight?”
“He’s buying a round,” Tom said.
Rosie appeared just as Tom spoke. He was carrying a tray with a pitcher of whatever beer was cheapest on tap tonight and ten glasses.
“So are you two together?” Rosie asked, when everyone was set with a drink and Jensen had introduced him to Jared.
“It’s…complicated,” Jared said.
Rosie frowned. “Really? Matching tattoos seems like a pretty big step for ‘it’s complicated’.”
Jared looked to Charisma and James, clearly wanting advice on how best to handle the question with this particularly group of people, but before he could respond, Weatherly said, “Always knew you liked ‘em really tall, Jen, the way you were always jealous of me and Tom.”
Jensen almost choked on his beer and he really appreciated the soothing hand that Jared ran up and down his back.
“Jensen and I are just friends,” Tom said.
“Does he know that?” Michael said petulantly.
“I’m not interested in Tom,” Jensen said flatly, as soon as his coughing fit subsided. For a start, they’d met at a Church mixer in their first year and the only reason Jensen had gone was because his mom had badgered him into it. Tom still went to Church, if not every Saturday, then often enough to indicate that he was still a True Believer, and Jensen could never date someone like that, despite how happy it would make his family.
Chris and Steve came on stage then and Jensen was saved from further conversation. Beside him, Jared tapped his feet to the beat and out on the dance floor, people started boot scootin’. Charisma whooped and dragged James out onto the floor and Jared fidgeted and side-eyed Jensen and finally asked him if he wanted to dance.
Jensen rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh. I don’t really dance.”
“Line dancing’s not that hard,” Jared stood up and tried to drag Jensen to his feet. “I can teach you.”
“Oh, I can line dance,” Jensen said. “I’m from Texas. I just…don’t.”
Jared unleashed his puppy dog eyes and somehow or other Jensen found himself out on the dance floor, shuffling from side to side, swinging his hips and tapping his feet, his fingers tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. Jared, in contrast, was waving his arms around like a pirouetting ballerina and wiggling his ass in a way that really wasn’t sexy, but managed to turn Jensen on anyway. When they finally made their way back to the table, several sets later, they were both pink-cheeked and sweaty and Jensen’s face was aching from all the grinning he’d been doing. Not even Michael’s sour face, Rosie’s pining or James’s penetrating stare could intrude on his good mood.
Later that night when they climbed into bed, Jensen reflected that he hadn’t been this happy for a long time.
“Hey, Jared?” he said.
Jared turned to face him, his expression expectant.
“Tonight was fun. Thank you.”
Jared grinned and told him that he was welcome and Jensen decided that even if he was bewitched, it was worth it.
While Jensen was making coffee on Friday morning, he got a sudden yearning for blueberry pancakes. Leaving the coffee to brew, he dug around in the pantry until he found an almost expired packet of Aunt Jemima’s blueberry pancake mix, right up the back, behind an ancient box of muesli from when Chris had been on that health kick. He snatched the pancake mixture out of the cupboard with a rebel yell of triumph and carried it over to the bench.
Jared shuffled into the kitchen just as Jensen was flipping the last pancake out onto a plate.
“Dude!” he said. “How did you know I was craving blueberry pancakes?”
Jensen shrugged and put the plate on the kitchen table, along with a tub of butter and a bottle of maple syrup. “Library again today?” he asked.
Jared’s mouth twisted a little. “Uh, probably best if…” he cleared his throat. “Gotta study for my Thaumaturgy exam and,” he hesitated again and then said, “part of the exam’s theory and part’s practical.”
Jensen paused, forkful of pancake midway to his mouth. “You’re gonna be practicing magic?”
Jared nodded. “Nothing dangerous. Just, uh, some basic transfiguration and locomotion spells.”
Jensen put his fork down and swallowed hard. “The other day you said you couldn’t transform things into other things.”
“No,” Jared said slowly, “I said you couldn’t transform a living thing into a different kind of living thing without maiming or killing it in the process. The transfiguration of live creatures is illegal for good reason. And obviously there are some scientific laws governing transfiguration as well. For example, I could turn a pen into a spoon, but I couldn’t turn it into a jumbo jet, because there wouldn’t be enough material in a pen to make a jumbo jet.”
“Oh. Makes sense, I guess,” Jensen resumed eating his pancakes. “And locomotion is just moving things, right?”
Jared agreed that it was.
As Jensen swiped a forkful of pancake through the maple syrup pooled on his plate, he wondered out loud why the Church of the Holy Fire felt so threatened by the magi, when none of the things that Jared was talking about being able to do sounded either scary or dangerous. Jared explained to him that done right, transfiguration and locomotion could be combined to make things explode or catch fire. And he reminded him that if a magus tried to transfigure a person into something else, it could kill that person.
“Still,” Jensen shrugged. “Like you said the other day, it ain’t like a guy with a gun or some explosives can’t do as much damage. And all we gotta do is slap some iron manacles on any magus who’s trying to do some damage and the threat’s gone.”
For some reason, putting a magus in handcuffs and legcuffs made of iron, with a chain running between the two, appeared to interfere with the magus’s ability to perform magic. Jensen assumed that there were people who understood the science behind why that was, but he didn’t have a clue.
“You’re preaching to the choir, Jen,” Jared said. “It’s not really logical, the way your Church hates us. They just got themselves convinced that God doesn’t approve of us, that we’re in league with the Devil and that’s that as far as they’re concerned. We’re evil sinners who don’t deserve to live.”
“Not my Church,” Jensen muttered.
“You don’t go any more?” Jared asked.
Jensen shook his head. “I went for a while when I first got here, just to keep my mama happy, really. But now,” he shrugged. “I went a couple times to that Church of Christ, with my friend Danneel. They’re pretty small. Have you heard of them?”
Jared nodded. “Yeah, they sprung out of the Jewish religion a few thousand years ago, said that some magus who got crucified for witchcraft; turning water into wine, multiplying five loafs of bread into enough to feed thousands, things like that; was actually the son of God, and that he got resurrected after his death.”
“Yeah,” Jensen nodded. “I don’t really buy it, but they seem like an okay bunch. They do a lot of charity work and they’re friendly and accepting of everybody, ordinary people and magi alike.” Jensen cleared the crockery into the dishwasher. “What about you?” he asked Jared, even though he was actually dreading the answer. “Is your family religious?”
“We’re Wiccan,” Jared said cheerfully and Jensen nodded, because he’d been expecting as much.
The ancient religion of the magi had been all but destroyed following centuries of persecution and forced conversion to the Church of the Holy Fire, but in the sixties and seventies, as understanding grew that magical ability was simply an innate human variation, the result of genetics, not devilry, the magi began to piece together their lost cultural heritage. Wicca was based on the remnants of the Old Religion; on the scraps the magi were able to put together of a religion forced to go underground. The Church of the Holy Fire disapproved of it wholeheartedly and condemned Wicca as evil devil worship in the strongest possible terms.
“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Jared said softly. “We don’t worship the devil. We don’t actually recognize the devil; he’s not part of our belief system.”
Jensen was getting sort of used to Jared picking up on his thoughts, so he wasn’t surprised by Jared’s response. Nor was he surprised when Jared laughed softly in the face of his rising panic.
“What have you heard?” Jared said, folding his arms across his chest. “Don’t tell me; it’s the orgies of ritual sex that have got you worried, right?”
“Those are real?” Jensen’s voice squeaked embarrassingly.
Jared made a so/so gesture with his hand. “Yes, there is ritual sex. Yes, sometimes it’s public. No, you don’t have to participate in any way and no, you don’t have to watch.”
Jensen cleared his throat. “Good. Don’t get me wrong, I like sex as much as the next guy, but I’m kind of private about that sort of stuff.”
“Me too,” Jared said, his voice low and husky.
“Okay, good,” Jensen nodded vigorously. “That’s good. That’s…I’m glad we’re on the same page there. I’m gonna go,” he thumbed over his shoulder toward the bathroom and then managed to back into the table. “Ouch! Dammit!”
“You okay?” Jared was very obviously trying not to laugh.
“Yeah. I’ll… Back soon.” Jensen hurried to the bathroom, to the sound of Jared laughing.
Jared did his thaumaturgy theory study sitting at the kitchen table, with Jensen sitting beside him studying for his Human Functional Anatomy exam. They quizzed each other until they both knew each other’s material backwards, and then they stopped for lunch.
After lunch, Jared turned all of Jensen’s tea spoons into shot glasses and a dinner plate into a small cushion, and he then floated all of them from one side of the room to the other. And then he made the table and all the chairs levitate. Jensen was impressed, despite himself. He could feel how tired all the magic left Jared, though; even a small act of magic seemed to require a large amount of energy. As a student of human physiology, Jensen was fascinated, and he wished he’d taken that unit on the Influence of Magic on Human Physiology. He was also concerned by Jared’s exhaustion and felt a strong need to reach out to him.
As soon as Jensen put a hand on Jared’s shoulder, he could feel the magus’s energy levels start to build, drawing on Jensen’s reserves to replenish his own. Jared pulled away roughly and staggered to his feet, his startled eyes meeting Jensen’s.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know that would happen.”
“It’s okay,” Jensen reached out again and Jared flinched away.
Jensen rolled his eyes. “Really? You’re exhausted. I’m giving you some energy. Relax.”
Jared sat down cautiously and allowed Jensen to put an arm around his shoulders. “It feels good when I’m touching you,” Jensen said. “And I don’t mind helping you replenish your energy. Maybe that’s partly what non-magi soulmates are for?”
Jared sighed unhappily. “So far, the nasc anam has hurt you and helped me. In the positives and negatives stakes, I seem to be coming out on top.”
Jensen smirked. “I’m more than happy for you to come out on top,” he said, waggling his eyebrows and licking his lips suggestively. “Especially if you’re proportional.”
Jared face-palmed, a little dramatically Jensen thought. “Dude! Really?” Jared shot him a sly sideways glance. “I kind of figured you’d want to top.”
Jensen shrugged. “I like getting fucked. But I’m happy to switch it up too.”
Jared rubbed a nervous hand over his mouth. “Okay. Well. Good to know. But just so you know, I don’t put out until at least the third date.”
“What about kissing?”
Jared chewed on his bottom lip and Jensen tracked the movement with big, black pupils.
“Kissing’s okay,” Jared said, peeking up at Jensen from underneath his bangs.
Jensen scooted his chair closer to Jared’s and then reached forward and took the magus’s face in his hands. The contact dulled his ever-present bone-deep ache, even as he could feel it sending his energy flowing into Jared. He leaned forward and touched his mouth to the younger man’s. Jared’s lips were soft and wet and he parted them with a groan, allowing Jensen’s tongue to sweep gently across his bottom lip, before dipping inside to tangle with his tongue. Jared gasped into Jensen’s mouth, his eyes fluttering closed, as they pressed their lips together, sucking and licking and tonguing. When they finally pulled apart, they were both flushed and Jensen was hard in his jeans. Jared looked dazed, but he no longer felt to Jensen as if he was exhausted, and apparently Jensen had energy to spare, because he felt just fine. Better than fine, even.
Jensen cleared his throat and adjusted himself subtly.
“That was good,” he said.
Jared smiled; all dimples and goofy eyes. “Yeah,” he agreed.
Jensen decided that they’d studied enough and challenged Jared to a game of FIFA. To his surprise, Jared kicked his ass, and Jensen learned that he’d played soccer in High School. He’d played baseball and lacrosse himself, and they ended up reminiscing about their childhoods. Chris and Charisma came home just as they were looking through the take out menus and when they were all settled with pizza and beer, Chris told a few tales about their first few years in college.
“I’m tellin’ ya, man,” he said to Jared, “your boy here was so goddamn wet behind the ears when I met him. Couldn’t hold his liquor for shit; I had to sit his ass down and teach him about decent music; apparently his mama didn’t hold with ‘the devil’s music’,” Chris rolled his eyes and Jensen smiled sheepishly. “She worries, is all,” he said.
Chris stared hard at him for a moment and then said, “I love you like a brother, man. But your mama, she’s a bigot. What the hell are you gonna tell her about this?” he gestured between Jensen and Jared.
Jensen reached out and took hold of Jared’s hand. “I guess I’ll tell her the truth.”
Beside him, Jared sighed. “The truth is subjective,” he said. “Her truth is gonna be that I put a spell on you, forced you to be mine.”
Jensen tried to pretend that a feeling of warm contentedness didn’t spread through him when he heard Jared claim him as mine.
Jared was right, though. His mom and dad were never going to accept Jared as family, and there was every chance they may even try to stage an intervention; to drag Jensen home and lock him up; to have the Reverend try to pray away his bewitchment; to subject him to a barrage of intrusive holy rituals. He swallowed and moved a little closer to Jared.
“We’ll deal with it,” he said. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together.”
Jensen couldn’t stop worrying though, and by the time they went to bed, his thoughts were a churning mess. Jared sighed and rolled over. “C’mere,” he said, lifting an arm.
Jensen hesitated for a moment and then scooted over and tucked himself under Jared’s arm. “We’re gonna wake up all tangled together any way,” Jared said. “May as well start out that way, especially if it’s gonna help you relax.”
Being free of the dull ache was always nice, and being wrapped in Jared’s giant arms was relaxing in some ways. It also turned him on and he wondered what would happened if he pushed his ass back against Jared’s groin.
“Don’t even think about it,” Jared said firmly. He leaned forward and kissed Jensen’s cheek. “Sleep,” he said, placing two fingers against Jensen’s forehead, and Jensen felt his mind shut down and drift off into slumber.
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