Fic: This Hell We've Made (Jensen/Jared) 3b/?
Fandom: J2
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17-- Wordcount: 9,400 (whole chapter)
Warnings: Mutant!AU, UST, angst, damaged!snarky!Jensen, empath!Jared
Notes: So, yeah, this took a little longer than I figured, and got long again, but here it is. I guess this is when things start to get... interesting. I'm kinda nervous about this part, hope you like!
Summary - Except for the fact that they were both born with remarkable superhuman abilities, and a seething mutual dislike, Jared and Jensen have nothing in common. Turns out, though, that they may also be the only ones who can save each other from themselves.
Back to Part 3a
They’re hanging out in Jared’s room - Jared’s not exactly sure when this hanging out thing started happening; it’s just Jensen is around a lot nowadays and it always seems to take Jared too long to realize that Jensen’s presence isn’t actually necessary - Jared sitting on the floor, looking over security schematics for their next mission, Jensen sprawled on the couch watching soap operas. Really, soap operas. It’s going to be a long time before Jared gets tired of laughing about that.
The redhead on screen faints into her brother’s arms with a gasping cry. Or at least Jared thinks that’s her brother; maybe that’s the boyfriend. No, wait, was it the boyfriend or the husband was lost at sea, except he’s actually got amnesia and is living with the doctor who also happens to be his ex-girlfriend who’s still in love with him, who Jared’s pretty sure is sleeping with… somebody. Jensen’s tried explaining it; Jared thinks he needs a graph or something.
“So, wait,” he decides to ask, because if he’s going to be stuck watching this, he’d at least like to know what’s happening, “was that the brother or the boyf-“
A sharp rap on the door interrupts him and automatically Jared yells, “Come in!”
The door opens to reveal Jeff, hair slicked back, black suit, a tie so red it looks like he’s bleeding and shoes shiny enough to check his reflection in; consulate meeting today, Jared guesses. Jeff smiles at them both in turn, something more behind that quirk of his eyebrows and Jared has to actively stop himself from ferretting below that calm exterior Jeff wears. It’s none of his business, it’s none of his business.
“Sorry to interrupt, boys,” Jeff apologizes, stepping far enough into the room to lean his hip against the paper-scattered desk. “Jensen, do you mind if I steal Jared for a minute?” He’s actually looking at Jensen when he says it, as though it’s up to Jensen whether or not Jared can have a private moment in his own room. Evidently he needs to have a discussion with Jeff about not inflating Jensen’s sense of self-importance; he’s overindulged as it is.
Wow, if that question doesn’t spur a whole flood of emotions from Jensen. Annoyance and suspicion are lingering right there at the top, followed closely by jealousy - it seems to be Jensen’s default setting number two, just behind lust - and something slightly cool and sticky that feels like being left out. Jensen is easily the strangest person Jared has ever met. Still, he levers himself up off of the couch with a grin that Jared recognizes as nothing close to the genuine article and says, “Help yourself.”
He glances over his shoulder one last time before he’s out the door, shooting a dark look between Jared and Jeff that Jared can’t even begin to interpret.
Jeff stares at the closed door for a moment after Jensen leaves, a curious expression on his face. Jared pulls himself up onto the sofa, so that he’s facing his mentor when Jeff asks off-handedly, “He doesn’t like me, does he?”
Jared catches himself looking at the door as well, that last expression on Jensen’s face floating at the foreground of his mind. “I’m not sure Jensen likes human beings,” he answers with a shrug, “Or animals. Or inanimate objects.”
When he looks back at Jeff, the older man is giving him a powerfully ‘Sandy’ look; all soft smile and narrowed eyes like he knows a secret and he can’t believe Jared’s not in on it. It’s gone so fast, Jared can’t even be 100% sure that it was there in the first place, but that doesn’t seem to quell his sudden urge to squirm under the scrutiny.
“It seems as though you two have made a lot of progress the last few weeks,” Jeff nods, but there’s still something searching about his gaze. It’s been a long time since Jared has had to work this hard to keep from burrowing under the thin layer of composure that pervades Jeff’s emotions.
Jared tentatively agrees, “He’s a fast learner, when he puts his mind to it. He’ll never admit that he’s wrong, but once I point a move out to him, or show him a new one, he picks it up fast. He’ll make a good fighter, already gets top marks with a gun. He’s good.”
That really doesn’t do anything to dispel the musing in Jeff’s gaze, in fact, if anything, it intensifies it and now Jared has to discreetly curl his fingers into fists against his side to keep from scratching at Jeff’s mind until he finds whatever swirling under the surface.
“Anything I should be concerned about?” Jeff puts him off.
“He doesn’t seem to be inclined to go anywhere - he actually seems to like the work; I don’t think he’ll pull anything,” Jared replies, trying to keep things as impersonal as he can, “And despite what the file suggests, he seems to have minimal violent tendencies.”
Jeff actually smirks at him this time. “I meant more along the lines of the two of you.”
“Oh,” he knows the surprise is clear in his voice, but he smothers it quickly in professionalism, “no, I don’t think so. I’m slightly more attuned to him than the others, but otherwise, things are as normal as you could expect them to be. I see his dreams more than most, but that’s about as far as any weirdness goes.”
He briefly considers discussing upping his levels - between Jensen’s dreams and his own, he’s been going for a lot more early morning runs - but decides against it. Bringing up his regimen with Jeff is just begging for an argument about how he shouldn’t be on them at all, and the staring’s got Jared feeling too wound up to pretend that he’ll be able to control his temper right now.
Jeff nods thoughtfully and is quiet for so long that Jared finds himself holding his breath, waiting for some other, unseen shoe to drop.
“I’d like for you two to take point on the Nevada job,” Jeff tells him matter of factly, glancing down that the schematics laid out over Jared’s floor. And that’s… well, it’s nowhere near as bad as Jared was expecting. It’s good, actually. He’s been expecting to go in with Tom as back up - Tom’s almost always his back up on infiltrations because neither Chad nor Misha is as good in a fight - but Jensen’s actually much better at stealth and improvisation than Tom, and with the link, it should be easier to tell if Jensen gets into any trouble. It’s a good plan actually; the only reason he hadn’t considered it himself is because Jensen’s still junior on the team and he didn’t think Jeff would allow it.
He doesn’t realize how goofy the smile painting his face is until Jeff raises his eyebrows. Quickly he hides his mouth behind a feigned cough and rearranges his expression into something less incongruously giddy.
“That’s fine,” he ascents, “I’ll start prepping Jensen immediately.”
There’s a flash-fire burst of surprise from Jeff, bleeding away into amusement quickly before it fades under the usual wash of calm. Jared’s not sure he understands; what had he said?
Jeff interrupts him before he even gets a chance to ask. “Good, that’s settled then.” The older man stands, brushing imaginary lint off of his pristinely creased pants-leg. “I’ll let you get back to your show.”
“It’s not my show,” Jared fires offendedly at his mentor’s retreating back, “Jensen’s the one who watches it.”
Jeff does a poor job of repressing a grin as he nods in agreement with Jared just before the door shuts behind him. Jared huffs at the glowing TV screen. It’s not his show.
The doctor/ex-girlfriend is trying to convince amnesia-guy that they should consummate their relationship. Jared suspects that’s just so she can pretend later that the baby she just found out she’s pregnant with belongs to amnesia guy and not the rugged-yet-sensitive sheriff.
Crap. Sometimes he really hates Jensen.
***
White noise crackles in Jared’s right ear, the subtle buzz of electronic feedback in his earbud from being too close to so many computers.
“These com-links are the shit! I can hear you breathing!” Jensen enthuses over the low sound. Jared’s not sure if it’s just the expressiveness of the other boy’s voice or if can actually feel Jensen smiling.
“Glad you like,” he says back flatly, picking through the mess of wires under the main computer-bank’s control panel. “Think you could focus on the mission now?”
“Dude, I’m done,” Jensen lazes back and Jared can just picture him leaning back in a chair somewhere on the other side of the building, arms folded behind his head, “Just waiting on your slow ass.”
“Yeah, well, you got the easy job, junior,” Jared half-growls, at last finding the wire he’s looking for. He cuts through it deftly with the knife strapped to his hip, making quick work of patching in the link Sandy had built to let them break into the ‘suspected mutant crimes’ database remotely from now on. The base really should have known better than to set up a system like this without expecting one of the teams to step in and check on it.
“Junior?” Jensen bristles but Jared can tell he’s still grinning, “At least I’m old enough to drink, kiddo.”
“Shut up,” Jared retorts absent-mindedly, tucking the wiring back into place to disguise the patch he’d just put in.
“Aw, don’t worry, Jay-jay, you’ll be a big boy one day, too.”
“You really want to go there, Jensen?” He asks under his breath, fitting the panel back in place and screwing it closed tightly. It’s a stupid question, and he doesn’t mean it the way he realizes Jensen’s inevitably going to take it, but he’s a little busy at the moment with the countdown he’s got going in his head. 4 minutes until Sandy will have to give back over control of the building’s power grid and they’ve still got to rendezvous with Chad.
“Oh, you know I do, baby,” Jensen hums lasciviously, and even knowing it’s a joke, there’s something about that voice that sinks into Jared’s skin. Yeah, definitely time to up the levels, he doesn’t care what Jeff thinks.
“We’re set,” he cuts off their banter with the command, “Meet me at the elevators, third floor, west side. T-minus 3 minutes.”
“On it,” is Jensen’s succinct reply. Despite it all, Jensen actually does know how to get down to business when the time comes. Jared has no idea why the makes a thin pride well up in him.
Jensen rounds the corner just as Jared reaches the elevators, the older boy checking over his shoulder in case any of the guards happen to be breaking away from the distraction they’d laid on the second underground level, gun held in front of his chest at the ready. He actually looks like he knows what he’s doing. Because he actually does. Jared may be smiling just a little.
“Ready?” he asks, not waiting for the affirmative reply before forcing open the elevator doors to reveal the open shaft. It’s a complete pain in the butt to have to do things this way when Chad could just port them out from right here if they could just communicate the coordinates. Trust Area 51 to set scramblers on their perimeter - he guesses they’re just lucky their coms worked inside. It’s still annoying to have to do things the old fashioned way though.
“This is so bad ass,” Jensen’s voice rumbles down the dark, open space. They teleported here and Jensen thinks this is bad ass. God help him.
“Yeah, I’m the child in this relationship,” he teases, leaning into the shaft to attach his safety line before making the small jump to the descending cords keeping the elevator suspended somewhere below.
“Ah, so you admit we’re in a relationship?” Jensen counters, words hitching slightly as he follows Jared’s lead and begins to climb.
“We’re two people who know each other,” Jared grunts, rubber-synth squeaking against the metal cable in his hands, mentally keeping closer count now that they’ve reached the sixty second mark. They’re going to be cutting it close. “By definition, we’re in a relationship.”
“Go on, Jay, deny your true feelings,” Jensen waxes melodramatically; “Our epic man-love will win out in the end.” It loses some of the impact because he’s panting with the strain, but Jared still finds himself laughing softly as he pushes open the emergency hatch to the roof and is greeted by a wash of cool night air. Forty-five seconds.
“Didn’t peg you for a commitment kind of guy.” Jared grips Jensen’s arm as he reaches the edge of the hatch and helps pull him up onto the roof.
“Not,” Jensen grins, Cheshire cat wide, “just like dicking with you.”
The glowstick crack seems loud in the stillness, and this is where it gets tricky. Even without the security cameras or lights operational, any of the guards patrolling outside might see them before Sandy spots them on the satellite and Chad can get here. And that’s just going to be awkward all around.
Jensen redraws his gun and flips the safety, bracing himself back to back with Jared as Jared brandishes the incandescent green stick in his hands at the night sky.
For what feels like forever and is probably more like ten seconds, everything hangs; time, air, the breath in his lungs. The world narrows down to the cool brush of desert breeze on his face, the almost maddening itch of sweat gathering in every bend and cranny under his uniform, the tingle of his palms inside his gloves and burning lassitude in his muscles from the climb up, the gentle bump of Jensen’s shoulder blade against his own as Jensen scans for signs that they’ve been spotted, the hazy, too-near warmth emanating from the back of Jensen’s neck to the nape of Jared’s. Jensen’s nervous and excited, running on all cylinders and ready to give it all up if he has to; not because of right or wrong or belief in the mission but because this is a feeling worth going out on. Jared envies that abandon, and is terrified of it all at once.
Chad doesn’t say anything as he phases in - unusual for him, but by Jared’s count they’re down to 19 seconds so he can’t blame the rush - just lays a hand on each of them and lets the darkness swallow them up.
For some reason, there’s always a degree of shock whenever Jared lets Chad teleport him. He knows better, but a part of him still always expects it to feel like something, a vast coldness or a pressure, or anything at all, but instead it’s like blinking and when he opens his eyes next, they’re standing in the middle of the control room. His eyes momentarily rebel against the glare of Sandy’s kaleidoscope walls, giving him just enough time to string out a connection to Jensen at his back and make sure the other man is alright. He doesn’t even realize that’s what he’s doing until after it’s done.
Tom and Misha are on them quickly with claps on the back and welcomes home as if they’ve been gone for more than an hour. There’s something about missions that always seems to stretch out the time. Jeff’s wearing an approving smile, confident that they’ve completed the objective without even a report. He holds out one large hand to Jensen, who casually deposits a computer chip in his palm with a self-satisfied tilt to his plush mouth.
“Good job, boys,” Jeff says, warm with a gratification that’s almost paternal. He gives a small head-tilt toward the chip in his hand and makes a swift exit to deliver it to whoever had arranged for their entrance this evening in exchange for it.
Jared gives his partner a pat on the shoulder and earns himself a bright, adrenaline-packed smile in return. It takes him a while to remember to move his hand.
***
Jensen’s considered a lot of ways to do this in the last few weeks. He’s thought of taking it slow and sweet, because Jared seems like that kind of guy, but neither of those descriptors are exactly in Jensen’s repertoire and he’s not looking to add tehem. Besides, when you get a body like Jared’s in the sack, you gotta put that puppy to work. Heh. Puppy. Padapuppy.
Still, Jay probably isn’t the type to go all out, hold-me-down, rough-me-up on the first rodeo - although, fuck, he would love to be wrong about that - so maybe it’s a good thing that he’d managed to curb the urge to just say fuck the clean up and pounce on the kid as soon as they’d gotten out of sight of the others. There had not been a single moment of his shower and the walk over here though that he hadn’t regretted not already being wrapped up in Jared’s hot, tight body. God, he might be stuck on permanent-boner mode.
Ultimately, he’d decided, seduction was his best option. Jared had proven more than once that even a hint of dirty talk could make him blush and fidget, which pretty well had to be a vote in Jensen’s favor. Dirty talk he can do. A few sticky-sweet, filthy words and he’d have Jared laid out under him, gasping Jensen’s name and writhing pretty as a picture. Or over him; really, Jensen’s not picky. And with those powers of Jared’s… this is going to be one hell of a night.
Jensen’s still hopped up from the mission - which he’d rocked, naturally - tingly, steam-hot endorphins burning through him, looking for an outlet, and Jensen knows exactly the one he wants to use.
Jared’s a little slow to answer the door, maybe already in bed or, oh, fresh from the shower. Mmm, maybe scrambling to get a towel tucked around his waist, water still trickling down all that skin that Jensen’s dying to see…
Or not. Damn.
Jared opens the door dressed in a pair of track pants and a t-shirt - slightly less fully dressed than usual but, still way too covered for Jensen’s taste. Seriously, is the kid never naked?
There’s a shine of wetness at his hairline and his amber waves are still clinging to his neck in crisp little dried-sweat curls. He hasn’t showered then; that’s fine, Jensen fully intended to get him all wet again anyway, so he’s not going to complain that Jared’s already halfway there.
Jared smiles a little awkwardly, probably feeling every scrap-claw-take-own instinct Jensen has singing through his veins like a narcotic, but he still says, “Hey, Jensen,” with mostly sincere lightness.
“Hey,” he purrs back, leaning up against the door jamb so that his body forms a smooth, provocative curve. What? No point being subtle when the other guy already knows what you’re feeling.
Jared clears his throat uncomfortably and glances down at the floor before asking, “What’s up?” He winces a second later, obviously realizing how very much he just stepped into that one, but Jensen lets it go.
“Just feeling a little worked up,” Jensen replies, mock-casual even as he lets his hips jut forward, the hem of his intentionally too-tight tee riding up above his navel. “Restless, you know, from the mission. Though it might be the same for you.”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” Jared scrubs at the tendrils of hair sticking to his forehead with the back of his hand. “I was just doing some push-ups. Working out’s real good for that.”
Jensen can feel the smirk twisting his lips, knows how it has to look, doesn’t really give a shit because hell yeah, he’s the predator here and he’s loving every minute of it. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”
He doesn’t give Jared a chance to respond with anything else, using the element of surprise to lunge his way into Jared’s arms, fingers tangling in fine, slightly damp hair as he crashes their mouths together. His lips bruise, itch-burning as they heal almost instantly, and he kind of loves that Jared’s won’t fix themselves right away; that for a few minutes at least they’re going to look all puffy and red from the way Jensen’s grinding their mouths together, catching Jared’s lips with his teeth as the kid stupidly tries to say something that might be “Jensen, stop.” Like that’s going to happen.
He only gets a few seconds to enjoy the feel of Jared hard body just a couple of layers of cloth away from his own, before the kid inevitably pulls out some training on him and twists Jensen’s arms up behind his back, the world spinning so crazily that he doesn’t have a chance to focus before he’s getting intimate with the wall just inside of Jared’s door. The kid’s pressed up tight against his back, a long line of heat and that edge of pain where he’s gripping Jensen’s wrists and yeah, just yeah.
“Fuck, yeah,” he moans against the paintjob; hey, it’s been a while and Jared’s just been hanging around taunting him like a carrot on a stick. “Didn’t know you had it in you, babe.”
The younger man jerks away at the first roll of Jensen’s hips and he does his level best not to whimper at the loss.
“Come on,” his voice gets caught somewhere between a whine and a groan as he turns to face a horrified-looking Jared - would probably sound fucked out already if Jared wasn’t a goddamn fucking cocktease. “is this the ‘guy’ thing? ‘Cause I kinda figured you were more about the emotional connection and shit.”
“And you think this,” Jared flings a hand back and forth between them incredulously, “qualifies!?” At least he didn’t say he wasn’t into guys.
“I’m your best friend!” he retorts, in what seems like a very calm, coherent manner considering that his dick is threatening to disown his body and immigrate to Jared-land if something doesn’t happen right fucking now.
“I don’t even like you half the time!”
“And yet I’m still your best friend.” Jensen crosses his arms smugly because he’s right and they both know it. He’s the only person in the whole damn facility - hell, the whole world - who Jared does the ‘honest and truthful’ dance with. Well, except for Jeff, but he’s not going to count Jeff right now because that’s really not the point. He’s totally Jared’s best friend. Although that does bring up a stunning and mildly gut-wrenching idea…
“God, don’t tell me Jeff keeps you all to himself.”
Jared’s face contorts so violently that Jensen takes an involuntary step back to avoid the puke is brain tells him is about to hit the floor. “Ugh! Excuse me while I go use up the world’s supply of bleach to scrub that image out of my brain.”
Wait, what? So he’s saying… that means… they’re not... “Seriously?”
“Jeff is like fath-“ Jared catches himself halfway there, like just because Jensen’s dad was a sonofabitch he can’t follow the metaphor, “No, we could never do something like that. It’s just too creepy.” The kid shivers all over, rubbing at his skin like he just developed a chill. “Plus, Jeff is very straight, like, Tom-straight.”
Jensen can’t keep himself from snorting a rueful laugh, “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before, usually right before I get a dick up my ass.”
Jared looks ready to hit something, but instead he just flails his arms and marches as far across the room from Jensen as he can get. “Do you have to do that?”
“What?”
“Make it seem…” Jared shrugs, eyes squinted at some invisible argument dictionary in front of him, “cheap and disgusting.”
And that definitely deserves the harsh-laugh/eye-roll combo. “Sorry to abuse your delicate notions, princess, but that’s pretty much what it is.”
“That why you’re so desperate to get into my pants?” Jared hurls back at him coldly. Oh, that is so not even alright.
“Hey! I’m not fucking desperate, ok?”
“I can tell.”
“Fuck you! Two months! I haven’t gotten laid in two fucking months!”
“And you picked me to let it all out on!?”
They’re yelling loud enough that if anybody lived anywhere close to Jared, they’d probably be pounding on the door right now. This was not the fucking plan. “Jeff freaks me out, Sandy’s a chick, Misha makes things blow up by touching them, and I have a very strict rule about not getting explosives near my junk. Tom’s straight and Chad,” Jensen shakes his head, skin crawling at the mere thought, “On the list of all the people in the world I would feasibly fuck around with, Chad only ranks above people with communicable diseases because I haven’t figured out a way to prove yet that Chad is a communicable disease.”
“You can’t even catch communicable diseases!” Jared shouts, incensed. And, hey, way to not focus on the issue!
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to go around boning sickies. Gross.”
Jared glares at him, like he’s just committed some cardinal sin for not having a burning desire to provide sexual favors for the health-challenged. On the plus side, he’s talking at a normal volume when he says, “Flattered as I am to be you’re only viable option, the answer’s still no.”
The plan had been good, the plan had been sound, the plan had at least a chance of getting him laid tonight - it is time to go back to the plan.
Jensen manages to intercept Jared as he crosses the room, maybe to go shove Jensen out of the door or something, but regardless, Jensen’s got him now; warm, rage-strung body pressed flush up against him, even closer than the glorious moment when they’d been kissing so he can whisper into Jared’s ear instead.
“C’mon, Jay,” he coaxes, though Jared is rigid against him, like if he holds still enough Jensen won’t notice the twitchy beginnings of Jared’s interest thickening up against his thigh, “You know I’m good, they wouldn’t pay for it if I wasn’t. I’ll let you have anything you want, any way you want it.”
“Bet you’re big, aren’t you, baby?” Ever so slowly Jensen lets his fingertips trail over Jared’s heaving, rock-hard torso. The hand he’s got braced on Jared’s arm tells him it’s giving the kid goosebumps, but even that’s not as good as the way Jared shivers when Jensen’s fingertips find a little patch of skin just at the waistband of Jared’s pants to play with. Jay’s dick is still softer than he would have guessed for a seventeen year old, but it’s working its way to half-mast and Jensen’s embracing every ounce of want he’s got in him to try and nudge it along.
“Got a nice, thick cock to go with all your hard muscles, hmm?” Finally he gives his tongue permission to tickle at Jared’s earlobe; he’s pulling out every little trick he’s ever learned for a hard-sell so the kid better fucking well appreciate it. “So fucking strong, Jay; makes me crazy thinking about all the things you could make me do, wouldn’t even have a choice. Could hold me down and feed me that pretty cock til I’m choking on it; lay me out just push your way in - don’t even have to prep me, you know I can take it.”
Jared’s practically vibrating against him - cock still not nearly hard enough for Jensen’s satisfaction, but he’ll find the right button here in a minute, he’s sure. Except instead of getting those big, gorgeous hands all over him like he expects, Jensen ends up shoved up against the wall as Jared backs away like he just announced he likes to burn down orphanages in his spare time.
“Jesus! Screw you!” Jared’s shouting again, but this time there’s something wrong with his voice. Now it sounds jagged, raw at the edges and too wet. Jensen’s chest starts to ache like he’s swallowed a bunch of fire ants. “You think I could do that? You think that after everything I know, everything I’ve felt inside of you that I could ever hurt you like that? Forget it, Jensen, I can’t and I won’t.”
Jared brushes past him and into the bathroom, fumbling around in the medicine cabinet, knocking shit into the sink until he seems to find what he’s looking for. He shakes a little brown pill out a label-less prescription bottle and swallows it dry as though it’s the only thing that’s going to keep him alive.
“What was that?” Jensen snaps. He can’t understand the anger pulsing through him like an off-rhythm heartbeat, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where it’s coming from.
“None of your business,” Jared grumbles back, and his surliness isn’t doing a damn thing to make Jensen want to fight back against whatever it is Jared’s pushing on him.
“Fuck you, what was it?”
“Aspirin,” Jared snarls, planting himself on the couch with his head in his hands. “You give me a damn headache.”
And that’s… he’s just… You know what, fuck it; he’s had e-fucking-nough of this shit. “What’s a’matter, big boy, got your jockstrap wound too tight? Can’t get it up?”
The last thing in the world he expects his for Jared to come back at his goading with the quiet challenge of, “No. I can’t.”
Jensen’s already got his mouth open on a smart-ass retort that dies a bloody death somewhere between his brain and his throat. “… What?”
“No,” Jared repeats solemnly, going slow like he’s thinking Jensen’s mother must have dropped him on his head as a baby. “I can’t get it up, okay?”
Jensen’s mind just kind of stutters over those words for a couple of minutes; replaying them over and over in different sequences to see if they make some kind of sense that he’s not seeing. “I… are you sure? ‘Cause it kinda felt like a minute ago-“
“They’re suppressants, alright,” Jared clips at him, taking his hands away from his face to stare at the blank television instead, “The pills. I take them to make sure I can’t get it up.”
Ok, well that… No, still not making sense. “Um, why?”
“Damnit, Jensen!” And he’s up again, flailing again, except now Jared looks a little closer to sad than mad. “You saw! You saw what happened the time I… I can’t lose control, I can’t afford to. It’s hard enough just to keep my feelings to myself when I’m wide awake and focused, or have you forgotten our little trip into each other’s heads? I can’t drink or, or get high; heck, I’d avoid sleeping if I could find a way around it. And I definitely can’t afford to get far gone enough to… do that.”
“So you let them castrate you?!” the surge of anger flooding his system this time is familiar, all his own, “Oh fuck that, I’m gonna talk to Jeff. These fuckers can’t do shit like that to you.”
If he didn’t have to walk by Jared to get to the door, he’d already be halfway down the hall, running to bitch out whoever the hell happens to get in his way, because that shit is just wrong on so many levels it makes him want to tear into something, scratch and bite and claw until they’re nothing left and his skin’s broken and bleeding. He wants to make it right in ways he can’t even cope with right now, but instead, Jared’s got him by the wrist and won’t let go.
“I asked them to,” he says, tilt-tipped hazel eyes serious and too old for his face. “Heck, I asked them to do it surgically but Jeff refused to do anything permanent.” Jared huffs a sound that’s nothing like his laugh and grimaces at the empty air to the side of Jensen’s shoulder. “You know, in case I ever decide that accidentally killing someone over a little sex sounds like a great plan.”
Jared’s fingers slip away then and Jensen has to catch himself from tugging them back. Without the anger it all just kind of hurts, and the feel of Jared’s skin had sorta made it better for a minute.
Jared had asked for this, Jared chose it, Jared actively gets up every day and makes sure that something so basic, so human, can’t happen to him.
“How long?” he asks, wondering how he can feel this numb and this bad at the same time. The kid just stares at him in confusion and Jensen scrapes together enough annoyance to snap, “How fucking long have you been on them?” Unfortunately that seems to use up all of his reserves so he ends up flopping bonelessly onto the couch, Jared joining him a few seconds later like he can’t admit the answer and still stay upright.
“Five years.”
“Jesus,” Jensen’s voice sounds like a hollow imitation of itself, “You haven’t jizzed in five years? No wonder you’re so pissy all the time.”
“I’m not pissy.” Jared mumbles dejectedly.
“Clearly.”
It feels like a long while before either of them manages to say anything else. Jensen keeps himself occupied trying to fight off the nagging impulse to reach over and do something stupid like cuddle Jared.
“So, yeah, now you know.” Jared sighs at last, sounding as bone weary as Jensen feels and he’s not sure whether that’s a coincidence or if Jared’s pushing again. “Think you could stop screwing around with me now? Just making it worse.”
Jensen’s not really expecting the words to pop out of his mouth, mainly because he says them at the exact same time as he thinks them. “Stop taking them.”
“No,” Jared answers flatly, as if maybe he’s had this argument before. But if that’s what he thinks, then he’s wrong, because he’s never had this argument with Jensen.
“Yeah, stop taking them. You can do it with me.”
That gets Jared looking up, actually meeting his eyes with this stunned sort of lash-flutter. “Absolutely not.”
“Seriously,” Jensen persists, becoming more and more convinced of the brilliance of this idea with each passing moment. “you can’t hurt me, I’m fucking invulnerable over here.”
“You’re not immortal Jensen! Or what if I messed up something inside your head, like before? What if I did something your body can’t fix.”
“You won’t,” he says, positive of the truth in it the moment the words leave his mouth. It feels strange how little that freaks him out. “You just said that you could never do anything to hurt me.”
“I didn’t…” Jared does that eye-squeeze thing that Jensen’s learning means Jared either thinks he’s the most infuriating person alive, or possibly a complete idiot. “not literally. I meant I would never intentionally hurt you, that doesn’t mean I’m not physically capable of it.”
“You won’t, you wouldn’t let yourself.” Again, what’s with the not freaking out? Because this? Feels totally freak out worthy. If there’s one thing Jensen’s life has taught him, it’s that there’s nobody who can’t hurt him. But apparently his body’s having none of it.
“Jensen, I’m fine,” Jared assures him steadily, “I know it’s unfathomable to you that somebody could be ok without sex, but it’s really not that big of a deal.”
“It’s a fucking crime against nature!” Oh look, there’s the freak out. Now he just needs to figure out why it’s happening over the wrong damn thing. “Look at you; you’re built like fucking’s your one true purpose in life and you wanna tell me that it doesn’t matter? That you don’t want it? Well I call bullshit. I’ve been in your head too, remember? I’ve seen your dreams - fucking vanilla-ass dreams - I know you want it.”
Jared’s come back is so soft Jensen can barely hear it, even in the silent room. It’s also kind of devastating.
“That doesn’t make it ok.”
Here in a minute, Jensen’s going to come up with a really good argument against that. It’s going to be awesome. And persuasive; Jared will have no choice but that bow before the might of Jensen: Debate God. Any minute now.
“So, you’re, like, a virgin?” Ok, that is not the brilliant argument.
Jared’s smile doesn’t quite sit on his lips right. “Not so much ‘like’.”
Wow. This is probably an inopportune time for Jensen’s dick to wake back up. “Have you… I mean, you’ve never done anything?”
“No,” Jared shakes his head, hair sticking out slightly where he keeps combing through it with his fingers.
“So the obsession with making out?” Not that the dreams hadn’t been kinda hot, it had just kind of shocked Jensen how tame they were. That at least is beginning to seem logical now.
Jared blushes beet red but doesn’t answer.
“You have kissed somebody before, right?”
The kid makes a little choked off noise, like a cough with no air behind it, and rubs at his own lips with his fingertips. “I have now.”
“Jesus.”
A part of Jensen feels sort of bad about the way that makes his blood heat up all over again. There are probably rules about not getting turned on like a fucking light switch when your friend tells you embarrassing secrets about himself, but Jensen’s pretty new at the whole friend thing, so he thinks he deserves some leeway. Besides, most people probably don’t have to find out that they just gave their abnormally hot friend his first kiss like ten minutes ago. He sort of feels like he needs to do a disclaimer on that too, because he wasn’t exactly going for awesome kissing technique back there so much as getting his tongue so far inside of Jared’s mouth that Jensen’s the only thing the kid would ever taste again; he can totally do better. Not to mention that now he has to deal with the reality that Jared’s also all innocent and corruptible and-
“Jensen!” Jared chides exasperatedly. Alright, he’s stopping. Probably.
The kid lays his head on the back of the couch and laughs quietly, more like strung-out than actual humor. He whaps Jensen’s leg lightly and Jensen whaps back, leaning in a little as Jared relaxes so that their shoulders brush together.
It feels kinda weirdly right against all of the wrong swishing around in Jensen’s head.
On to Part 4a
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17-- Wordcount: 9,400 (whole chapter)
Warnings: Mutant!AU, UST, angst, damaged!snarky!Jensen, empath!Jared
Notes: So, yeah, this took a little longer than I figured, and got long again, but here it is. I guess this is when things start to get... interesting. I'm kinda nervous about this part, hope you like!
Summary - Except for the fact that they were both born with remarkable superhuman abilities, and a seething mutual dislike, Jared and Jensen have nothing in common. Turns out, though, that they may also be the only ones who can save each other from themselves.
Back to Part 3a
They’re hanging out in Jared’s room - Jared’s not exactly sure when this hanging out thing started happening; it’s just Jensen is around a lot nowadays and it always seems to take Jared too long to realize that Jensen’s presence isn’t actually necessary - Jared sitting on the floor, looking over security schematics for their next mission, Jensen sprawled on the couch watching soap operas. Really, soap operas. It’s going to be a long time before Jared gets tired of laughing about that.
The redhead on screen faints into her brother’s arms with a gasping cry. Or at least Jared thinks that’s her brother; maybe that’s the boyfriend. No, wait, was it the boyfriend or the husband was lost at sea, except he’s actually got amnesia and is living with the doctor who also happens to be his ex-girlfriend who’s still in love with him, who Jared’s pretty sure is sleeping with… somebody. Jensen’s tried explaining it; Jared thinks he needs a graph or something.
“So, wait,” he decides to ask, because if he’s going to be stuck watching this, he’d at least like to know what’s happening, “was that the brother or the boyf-“
A sharp rap on the door interrupts him and automatically Jared yells, “Come in!”
The door opens to reveal Jeff, hair slicked back, black suit, a tie so red it looks like he’s bleeding and shoes shiny enough to check his reflection in; consulate meeting today, Jared guesses. Jeff smiles at them both in turn, something more behind that quirk of his eyebrows and Jared has to actively stop himself from ferretting below that calm exterior Jeff wears. It’s none of his business, it’s none of his business.
“Sorry to interrupt, boys,” Jeff apologizes, stepping far enough into the room to lean his hip against the paper-scattered desk. “Jensen, do you mind if I steal Jared for a minute?” He’s actually looking at Jensen when he says it, as though it’s up to Jensen whether or not Jared can have a private moment in his own room. Evidently he needs to have a discussion with Jeff about not inflating Jensen’s sense of self-importance; he’s overindulged as it is.
Wow, if that question doesn’t spur a whole flood of emotions from Jensen. Annoyance and suspicion are lingering right there at the top, followed closely by jealousy - it seems to be Jensen’s default setting number two, just behind lust - and something slightly cool and sticky that feels like being left out. Jensen is easily the strangest person Jared has ever met. Still, he levers himself up off of the couch with a grin that Jared recognizes as nothing close to the genuine article and says, “Help yourself.”
He glances over his shoulder one last time before he’s out the door, shooting a dark look between Jared and Jeff that Jared can’t even begin to interpret.
Jeff stares at the closed door for a moment after Jensen leaves, a curious expression on his face. Jared pulls himself up onto the sofa, so that he’s facing his mentor when Jeff asks off-handedly, “He doesn’t like me, does he?”
Jared catches himself looking at the door as well, that last expression on Jensen’s face floating at the foreground of his mind. “I’m not sure Jensen likes human beings,” he answers with a shrug, “Or animals. Or inanimate objects.”
When he looks back at Jeff, the older man is giving him a powerfully ‘Sandy’ look; all soft smile and narrowed eyes like he knows a secret and he can’t believe Jared’s not in on it. It’s gone so fast, Jared can’t even be 100% sure that it was there in the first place, but that doesn’t seem to quell his sudden urge to squirm under the scrutiny.
“It seems as though you two have made a lot of progress the last few weeks,” Jeff nods, but there’s still something searching about his gaze. It’s been a long time since Jared has had to work this hard to keep from burrowing under the thin layer of composure that pervades Jeff’s emotions.
Jared tentatively agrees, “He’s a fast learner, when he puts his mind to it. He’ll never admit that he’s wrong, but once I point a move out to him, or show him a new one, he picks it up fast. He’ll make a good fighter, already gets top marks with a gun. He’s good.”
That really doesn’t do anything to dispel the musing in Jeff’s gaze, in fact, if anything, it intensifies it and now Jared has to discreetly curl his fingers into fists against his side to keep from scratching at Jeff’s mind until he finds whatever swirling under the surface.
“Anything I should be concerned about?” Jeff puts him off.
“He doesn’t seem to be inclined to go anywhere - he actually seems to like the work; I don’t think he’ll pull anything,” Jared replies, trying to keep things as impersonal as he can, “And despite what the file suggests, he seems to have minimal violent tendencies.”
Jeff actually smirks at him this time. “I meant more along the lines of the two of you.”
“Oh,” he knows the surprise is clear in his voice, but he smothers it quickly in professionalism, “no, I don’t think so. I’m slightly more attuned to him than the others, but otherwise, things are as normal as you could expect them to be. I see his dreams more than most, but that’s about as far as any weirdness goes.”
He briefly considers discussing upping his levels - between Jensen’s dreams and his own, he’s been going for a lot more early morning runs - but decides against it. Bringing up his regimen with Jeff is just begging for an argument about how he shouldn’t be on them at all, and the staring’s got Jared feeling too wound up to pretend that he’ll be able to control his temper right now.
Jeff nods thoughtfully and is quiet for so long that Jared finds himself holding his breath, waiting for some other, unseen shoe to drop.
“I’d like for you two to take point on the Nevada job,” Jeff tells him matter of factly, glancing down that the schematics laid out over Jared’s floor. And that’s… well, it’s nowhere near as bad as Jared was expecting. It’s good, actually. He’s been expecting to go in with Tom as back up - Tom’s almost always his back up on infiltrations because neither Chad nor Misha is as good in a fight - but Jensen’s actually much better at stealth and improvisation than Tom, and with the link, it should be easier to tell if Jensen gets into any trouble. It’s a good plan actually; the only reason he hadn’t considered it himself is because Jensen’s still junior on the team and he didn’t think Jeff would allow it.
He doesn’t realize how goofy the smile painting his face is until Jeff raises his eyebrows. Quickly he hides his mouth behind a feigned cough and rearranges his expression into something less incongruously giddy.
“That’s fine,” he ascents, “I’ll start prepping Jensen immediately.”
There’s a flash-fire burst of surprise from Jeff, bleeding away into amusement quickly before it fades under the usual wash of calm. Jared’s not sure he understands; what had he said?
Jeff interrupts him before he even gets a chance to ask. “Good, that’s settled then.” The older man stands, brushing imaginary lint off of his pristinely creased pants-leg. “I’ll let you get back to your show.”
“It’s not my show,” Jared fires offendedly at his mentor’s retreating back, “Jensen’s the one who watches it.”
Jeff does a poor job of repressing a grin as he nods in agreement with Jared just before the door shuts behind him. Jared huffs at the glowing TV screen. It’s not his show.
The doctor/ex-girlfriend is trying to convince amnesia-guy that they should consummate their relationship. Jared suspects that’s just so she can pretend later that the baby she just found out she’s pregnant with belongs to amnesia guy and not the rugged-yet-sensitive sheriff.
Crap. Sometimes he really hates Jensen.
***
White noise crackles in Jared’s right ear, the subtle buzz of electronic feedback in his earbud from being too close to so many computers.
“These com-links are the shit! I can hear you breathing!” Jensen enthuses over the low sound. Jared’s not sure if it’s just the expressiveness of the other boy’s voice or if can actually feel Jensen smiling.
“Glad you like,” he says back flatly, picking through the mess of wires under the main computer-bank’s control panel. “Think you could focus on the mission now?”
“Dude, I’m done,” Jensen lazes back and Jared can just picture him leaning back in a chair somewhere on the other side of the building, arms folded behind his head, “Just waiting on your slow ass.”
“Yeah, well, you got the easy job, junior,” Jared half-growls, at last finding the wire he’s looking for. He cuts through it deftly with the knife strapped to his hip, making quick work of patching in the link Sandy had built to let them break into the ‘suspected mutant crimes’ database remotely from now on. The base really should have known better than to set up a system like this without expecting one of the teams to step in and check on it.
“Junior?” Jensen bristles but Jared can tell he’s still grinning, “At least I’m old enough to drink, kiddo.”
“Shut up,” Jared retorts absent-mindedly, tucking the wiring back into place to disguise the patch he’d just put in.
“Aw, don’t worry, Jay-jay, you’ll be a big boy one day, too.”
“You really want to go there, Jensen?” He asks under his breath, fitting the panel back in place and screwing it closed tightly. It’s a stupid question, and he doesn’t mean it the way he realizes Jensen’s inevitably going to take it, but he’s a little busy at the moment with the countdown he’s got going in his head. 4 minutes until Sandy will have to give back over control of the building’s power grid and they’ve still got to rendezvous with Chad.
“Oh, you know I do, baby,” Jensen hums lasciviously, and even knowing it’s a joke, there’s something about that voice that sinks into Jared’s skin. Yeah, definitely time to up the levels, he doesn’t care what Jeff thinks.
“We’re set,” he cuts off their banter with the command, “Meet me at the elevators, third floor, west side. T-minus 3 minutes.”
“On it,” is Jensen’s succinct reply. Despite it all, Jensen actually does know how to get down to business when the time comes. Jared has no idea why the makes a thin pride well up in him.
Jensen rounds the corner just as Jared reaches the elevators, the older boy checking over his shoulder in case any of the guards happen to be breaking away from the distraction they’d laid on the second underground level, gun held in front of his chest at the ready. He actually looks like he knows what he’s doing. Because he actually does. Jared may be smiling just a little.
“Ready?” he asks, not waiting for the affirmative reply before forcing open the elevator doors to reveal the open shaft. It’s a complete pain in the butt to have to do things this way when Chad could just port them out from right here if they could just communicate the coordinates. Trust Area 51 to set scramblers on their perimeter - he guesses they’re just lucky their coms worked inside. It’s still annoying to have to do things the old fashioned way though.
“This is so bad ass,” Jensen’s voice rumbles down the dark, open space. They teleported here and Jensen thinks this is bad ass. God help him.
“Yeah, I’m the child in this relationship,” he teases, leaning into the shaft to attach his safety line before making the small jump to the descending cords keeping the elevator suspended somewhere below.
“Ah, so you admit we’re in a relationship?” Jensen counters, words hitching slightly as he follows Jared’s lead and begins to climb.
“We’re two people who know each other,” Jared grunts, rubber-synth squeaking against the metal cable in his hands, mentally keeping closer count now that they’ve reached the sixty second mark. They’re going to be cutting it close. “By definition, we’re in a relationship.”
“Go on, Jay, deny your true feelings,” Jensen waxes melodramatically; “Our epic man-love will win out in the end.” It loses some of the impact because he’s panting with the strain, but Jared still finds himself laughing softly as he pushes open the emergency hatch to the roof and is greeted by a wash of cool night air. Forty-five seconds.
“Didn’t peg you for a commitment kind of guy.” Jared grips Jensen’s arm as he reaches the edge of the hatch and helps pull him up onto the roof.
“Not,” Jensen grins, Cheshire cat wide, “just like dicking with you.”
The glowstick crack seems loud in the stillness, and this is where it gets tricky. Even without the security cameras or lights operational, any of the guards patrolling outside might see them before Sandy spots them on the satellite and Chad can get here. And that’s just going to be awkward all around.
Jensen redraws his gun and flips the safety, bracing himself back to back with Jared as Jared brandishes the incandescent green stick in his hands at the night sky.
For what feels like forever and is probably more like ten seconds, everything hangs; time, air, the breath in his lungs. The world narrows down to the cool brush of desert breeze on his face, the almost maddening itch of sweat gathering in every bend and cranny under his uniform, the tingle of his palms inside his gloves and burning lassitude in his muscles from the climb up, the gentle bump of Jensen’s shoulder blade against his own as Jensen scans for signs that they’ve been spotted, the hazy, too-near warmth emanating from the back of Jensen’s neck to the nape of Jared’s. Jensen’s nervous and excited, running on all cylinders and ready to give it all up if he has to; not because of right or wrong or belief in the mission but because this is a feeling worth going out on. Jared envies that abandon, and is terrified of it all at once.
Chad doesn’t say anything as he phases in - unusual for him, but by Jared’s count they’re down to 19 seconds so he can’t blame the rush - just lays a hand on each of them and lets the darkness swallow them up.
For some reason, there’s always a degree of shock whenever Jared lets Chad teleport him. He knows better, but a part of him still always expects it to feel like something, a vast coldness or a pressure, or anything at all, but instead it’s like blinking and when he opens his eyes next, they’re standing in the middle of the control room. His eyes momentarily rebel against the glare of Sandy’s kaleidoscope walls, giving him just enough time to string out a connection to Jensen at his back and make sure the other man is alright. He doesn’t even realize that’s what he’s doing until after it’s done.
Tom and Misha are on them quickly with claps on the back and welcomes home as if they’ve been gone for more than an hour. There’s something about missions that always seems to stretch out the time. Jeff’s wearing an approving smile, confident that they’ve completed the objective without even a report. He holds out one large hand to Jensen, who casually deposits a computer chip in his palm with a self-satisfied tilt to his plush mouth.
“Good job, boys,” Jeff says, warm with a gratification that’s almost paternal. He gives a small head-tilt toward the chip in his hand and makes a swift exit to deliver it to whoever had arranged for their entrance this evening in exchange for it.
Jared gives his partner a pat on the shoulder and earns himself a bright, adrenaline-packed smile in return. It takes him a while to remember to move his hand.
***
Jensen’s considered a lot of ways to do this in the last few weeks. He’s thought of taking it slow and sweet, because Jared seems like that kind of guy, but neither of those descriptors are exactly in Jensen’s repertoire and he’s not looking to add tehem. Besides, when you get a body like Jared’s in the sack, you gotta put that puppy to work. Heh. Puppy. Padapuppy.
Still, Jay probably isn’t the type to go all out, hold-me-down, rough-me-up on the first rodeo - although, fuck, he would love to be wrong about that - so maybe it’s a good thing that he’d managed to curb the urge to just say fuck the clean up and pounce on the kid as soon as they’d gotten out of sight of the others. There had not been a single moment of his shower and the walk over here though that he hadn’t regretted not already being wrapped up in Jared’s hot, tight body. God, he might be stuck on permanent-boner mode.
Ultimately, he’d decided, seduction was his best option. Jared had proven more than once that even a hint of dirty talk could make him blush and fidget, which pretty well had to be a vote in Jensen’s favor. Dirty talk he can do. A few sticky-sweet, filthy words and he’d have Jared laid out under him, gasping Jensen’s name and writhing pretty as a picture. Or over him; really, Jensen’s not picky. And with those powers of Jared’s… this is going to be one hell of a night.
Jensen’s still hopped up from the mission - which he’d rocked, naturally - tingly, steam-hot endorphins burning through him, looking for an outlet, and Jensen knows exactly the one he wants to use.
Jared’s a little slow to answer the door, maybe already in bed or, oh, fresh from the shower. Mmm, maybe scrambling to get a towel tucked around his waist, water still trickling down all that skin that Jensen’s dying to see…
Or not. Damn.
Jared opens the door dressed in a pair of track pants and a t-shirt - slightly less fully dressed than usual but, still way too covered for Jensen’s taste. Seriously, is the kid never naked?
There’s a shine of wetness at his hairline and his amber waves are still clinging to his neck in crisp little dried-sweat curls. He hasn’t showered then; that’s fine, Jensen fully intended to get him all wet again anyway, so he’s not going to complain that Jared’s already halfway there.
Jared smiles a little awkwardly, probably feeling every scrap-claw-take-own instinct Jensen has singing through his veins like a narcotic, but he still says, “Hey, Jensen,” with mostly sincere lightness.
“Hey,” he purrs back, leaning up against the door jamb so that his body forms a smooth, provocative curve. What? No point being subtle when the other guy already knows what you’re feeling.
Jared clears his throat uncomfortably and glances down at the floor before asking, “What’s up?” He winces a second later, obviously realizing how very much he just stepped into that one, but Jensen lets it go.
“Just feeling a little worked up,” Jensen replies, mock-casual even as he lets his hips jut forward, the hem of his intentionally too-tight tee riding up above his navel. “Restless, you know, from the mission. Though it might be the same for you.”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” Jared scrubs at the tendrils of hair sticking to his forehead with the back of his hand. “I was just doing some push-ups. Working out’s real good for that.”
Jensen can feel the smirk twisting his lips, knows how it has to look, doesn’t really give a shit because hell yeah, he’s the predator here and he’s loving every minute of it. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”
He doesn’t give Jared a chance to respond with anything else, using the element of surprise to lunge his way into Jared’s arms, fingers tangling in fine, slightly damp hair as he crashes their mouths together. His lips bruise, itch-burning as they heal almost instantly, and he kind of loves that Jared’s won’t fix themselves right away; that for a few minutes at least they’re going to look all puffy and red from the way Jensen’s grinding their mouths together, catching Jared’s lips with his teeth as the kid stupidly tries to say something that might be “Jensen, stop.” Like that’s going to happen.
He only gets a few seconds to enjoy the feel of Jared hard body just a couple of layers of cloth away from his own, before the kid inevitably pulls out some training on him and twists Jensen’s arms up behind his back, the world spinning so crazily that he doesn’t have a chance to focus before he’s getting intimate with the wall just inside of Jared’s door. The kid’s pressed up tight against his back, a long line of heat and that edge of pain where he’s gripping Jensen’s wrists and yeah, just yeah.
“Fuck, yeah,” he moans against the paintjob; hey, it’s been a while and Jared’s just been hanging around taunting him like a carrot on a stick. “Didn’t know you had it in you, babe.”
The younger man jerks away at the first roll of Jensen’s hips and he does his level best not to whimper at the loss.
“Come on,” his voice gets caught somewhere between a whine and a groan as he turns to face a horrified-looking Jared - would probably sound fucked out already if Jared wasn’t a goddamn fucking cocktease. “is this the ‘guy’ thing? ‘Cause I kinda figured you were more about the emotional connection and shit.”
“And you think this,” Jared flings a hand back and forth between them incredulously, “qualifies!?” At least he didn’t say he wasn’t into guys.
“I’m your best friend!” he retorts, in what seems like a very calm, coherent manner considering that his dick is threatening to disown his body and immigrate to Jared-land if something doesn’t happen right fucking now.
“I don’t even like you half the time!”
“And yet I’m still your best friend.” Jensen crosses his arms smugly because he’s right and they both know it. He’s the only person in the whole damn facility - hell, the whole world - who Jared does the ‘honest and truthful’ dance with. Well, except for Jeff, but he’s not going to count Jeff right now because that’s really not the point. He’s totally Jared’s best friend. Although that does bring up a stunning and mildly gut-wrenching idea…
“God, don’t tell me Jeff keeps you all to himself.”
Jared’s face contorts so violently that Jensen takes an involuntary step back to avoid the puke is brain tells him is about to hit the floor. “Ugh! Excuse me while I go use up the world’s supply of bleach to scrub that image out of my brain.”
Wait, what? So he’s saying… that means… they’re not... “Seriously?”
“Jeff is like fath-“ Jared catches himself halfway there, like just because Jensen’s dad was a sonofabitch he can’t follow the metaphor, “No, we could never do something like that. It’s just too creepy.” The kid shivers all over, rubbing at his skin like he just developed a chill. “Plus, Jeff is very straight, like, Tom-straight.”
Jensen can’t keep himself from snorting a rueful laugh, “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before, usually right before I get a dick up my ass.”
Jared looks ready to hit something, but instead he just flails his arms and marches as far across the room from Jensen as he can get. “Do you have to do that?”
“What?”
“Make it seem…” Jared shrugs, eyes squinted at some invisible argument dictionary in front of him, “cheap and disgusting.”
And that definitely deserves the harsh-laugh/eye-roll combo. “Sorry to abuse your delicate notions, princess, but that’s pretty much what it is.”
“That why you’re so desperate to get into my pants?” Jared hurls back at him coldly. Oh, that is so not even alright.
“Hey! I’m not fucking desperate, ok?”
“I can tell.”
“Fuck you! Two months! I haven’t gotten laid in two fucking months!”
“And you picked me to let it all out on!?”
They’re yelling loud enough that if anybody lived anywhere close to Jared, they’d probably be pounding on the door right now. This was not the fucking plan. “Jeff freaks me out, Sandy’s a chick, Misha makes things blow up by touching them, and I have a very strict rule about not getting explosives near my junk. Tom’s straight and Chad,” Jensen shakes his head, skin crawling at the mere thought, “On the list of all the people in the world I would feasibly fuck around with, Chad only ranks above people with communicable diseases because I haven’t figured out a way to prove yet that Chad is a communicable disease.”
“You can’t even catch communicable diseases!” Jared shouts, incensed. And, hey, way to not focus on the issue!
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to go around boning sickies. Gross.”
Jared glares at him, like he’s just committed some cardinal sin for not having a burning desire to provide sexual favors for the health-challenged. On the plus side, he’s talking at a normal volume when he says, “Flattered as I am to be you’re only viable option, the answer’s still no.”
The plan had been good, the plan had been sound, the plan had at least a chance of getting him laid tonight - it is time to go back to the plan.
Jensen manages to intercept Jared as he crosses the room, maybe to go shove Jensen out of the door or something, but regardless, Jensen’s got him now; warm, rage-strung body pressed flush up against him, even closer than the glorious moment when they’d been kissing so he can whisper into Jared’s ear instead.
“C’mon, Jay,” he coaxes, though Jared is rigid against him, like if he holds still enough Jensen won’t notice the twitchy beginnings of Jared’s interest thickening up against his thigh, “You know I’m good, they wouldn’t pay for it if I wasn’t. I’ll let you have anything you want, any way you want it.”
“Bet you’re big, aren’t you, baby?” Ever so slowly Jensen lets his fingertips trail over Jared’s heaving, rock-hard torso. The hand he’s got braced on Jared’s arm tells him it’s giving the kid goosebumps, but even that’s not as good as the way Jared shivers when Jensen’s fingertips find a little patch of skin just at the waistband of Jared’s pants to play with. Jay’s dick is still softer than he would have guessed for a seventeen year old, but it’s working its way to half-mast and Jensen’s embracing every ounce of want he’s got in him to try and nudge it along.
“Got a nice, thick cock to go with all your hard muscles, hmm?” Finally he gives his tongue permission to tickle at Jared’s earlobe; he’s pulling out every little trick he’s ever learned for a hard-sell so the kid better fucking well appreciate it. “So fucking strong, Jay; makes me crazy thinking about all the things you could make me do, wouldn’t even have a choice. Could hold me down and feed me that pretty cock til I’m choking on it; lay me out just push your way in - don’t even have to prep me, you know I can take it.”
Jared’s practically vibrating against him - cock still not nearly hard enough for Jensen’s satisfaction, but he’ll find the right button here in a minute, he’s sure. Except instead of getting those big, gorgeous hands all over him like he expects, Jensen ends up shoved up against the wall as Jared backs away like he just announced he likes to burn down orphanages in his spare time.
“Jesus! Screw you!” Jared’s shouting again, but this time there’s something wrong with his voice. Now it sounds jagged, raw at the edges and too wet. Jensen’s chest starts to ache like he’s swallowed a bunch of fire ants. “You think I could do that? You think that after everything I know, everything I’ve felt inside of you that I could ever hurt you like that? Forget it, Jensen, I can’t and I won’t.”
Jared brushes past him and into the bathroom, fumbling around in the medicine cabinet, knocking shit into the sink until he seems to find what he’s looking for. He shakes a little brown pill out a label-less prescription bottle and swallows it dry as though it’s the only thing that’s going to keep him alive.
“What was that?” Jensen snaps. He can’t understand the anger pulsing through him like an off-rhythm heartbeat, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where it’s coming from.
“None of your business,” Jared grumbles back, and his surliness isn’t doing a damn thing to make Jensen want to fight back against whatever it is Jared’s pushing on him.
“Fuck you, what was it?”
“Aspirin,” Jared snarls, planting himself on the couch with his head in his hands. “You give me a damn headache.”
And that’s… he’s just… You know what, fuck it; he’s had e-fucking-nough of this shit. “What’s a’matter, big boy, got your jockstrap wound too tight? Can’t get it up?”
The last thing in the world he expects his for Jared to come back at his goading with the quiet challenge of, “No. I can’t.”
Jensen’s already got his mouth open on a smart-ass retort that dies a bloody death somewhere between his brain and his throat. “… What?”
“No,” Jared repeats solemnly, going slow like he’s thinking Jensen’s mother must have dropped him on his head as a baby. “I can’t get it up, okay?”
Jensen’s mind just kind of stutters over those words for a couple of minutes; replaying them over and over in different sequences to see if they make some kind of sense that he’s not seeing. “I… are you sure? ‘Cause it kinda felt like a minute ago-“
“They’re suppressants, alright,” Jared clips at him, taking his hands away from his face to stare at the blank television instead, “The pills. I take them to make sure I can’t get it up.”
Ok, well that… No, still not making sense. “Um, why?”
“Damnit, Jensen!” And he’s up again, flailing again, except now Jared looks a little closer to sad than mad. “You saw! You saw what happened the time I… I can’t lose control, I can’t afford to. It’s hard enough just to keep my feelings to myself when I’m wide awake and focused, or have you forgotten our little trip into each other’s heads? I can’t drink or, or get high; heck, I’d avoid sleeping if I could find a way around it. And I definitely can’t afford to get far gone enough to… do that.”
“So you let them castrate you?!” the surge of anger flooding his system this time is familiar, all his own, “Oh fuck that, I’m gonna talk to Jeff. These fuckers can’t do shit like that to you.”
If he didn’t have to walk by Jared to get to the door, he’d already be halfway down the hall, running to bitch out whoever the hell happens to get in his way, because that shit is just wrong on so many levels it makes him want to tear into something, scratch and bite and claw until they’re nothing left and his skin’s broken and bleeding. He wants to make it right in ways he can’t even cope with right now, but instead, Jared’s got him by the wrist and won’t let go.
“I asked them to,” he says, tilt-tipped hazel eyes serious and too old for his face. “Heck, I asked them to do it surgically but Jeff refused to do anything permanent.” Jared huffs a sound that’s nothing like his laugh and grimaces at the empty air to the side of Jensen’s shoulder. “You know, in case I ever decide that accidentally killing someone over a little sex sounds like a great plan.”
Jared’s fingers slip away then and Jensen has to catch himself from tugging them back. Without the anger it all just kind of hurts, and the feel of Jared’s skin had sorta made it better for a minute.
Jared had asked for this, Jared chose it, Jared actively gets up every day and makes sure that something so basic, so human, can’t happen to him.
“How long?” he asks, wondering how he can feel this numb and this bad at the same time. The kid just stares at him in confusion and Jensen scrapes together enough annoyance to snap, “How fucking long have you been on them?” Unfortunately that seems to use up all of his reserves so he ends up flopping bonelessly onto the couch, Jared joining him a few seconds later like he can’t admit the answer and still stay upright.
“Five years.”
“Jesus,” Jensen’s voice sounds like a hollow imitation of itself, “You haven’t jizzed in five years? No wonder you’re so pissy all the time.”
“I’m not pissy.” Jared mumbles dejectedly.
“Clearly.”
It feels like a long while before either of them manages to say anything else. Jensen keeps himself occupied trying to fight off the nagging impulse to reach over and do something stupid like cuddle Jared.
“So, yeah, now you know.” Jared sighs at last, sounding as bone weary as Jensen feels and he’s not sure whether that’s a coincidence or if Jared’s pushing again. “Think you could stop screwing around with me now? Just making it worse.”
Jensen’s not really expecting the words to pop out of his mouth, mainly because he says them at the exact same time as he thinks them. “Stop taking them.”
“No,” Jared answers flatly, as if maybe he’s had this argument before. But if that’s what he thinks, then he’s wrong, because he’s never had this argument with Jensen.
“Yeah, stop taking them. You can do it with me.”
That gets Jared looking up, actually meeting his eyes with this stunned sort of lash-flutter. “Absolutely not.”
“Seriously,” Jensen persists, becoming more and more convinced of the brilliance of this idea with each passing moment. “you can’t hurt me, I’m fucking invulnerable over here.”
“You’re not immortal Jensen! Or what if I messed up something inside your head, like before? What if I did something your body can’t fix.”
“You won’t,” he says, positive of the truth in it the moment the words leave his mouth. It feels strange how little that freaks him out. “You just said that you could never do anything to hurt me.”
“I didn’t…” Jared does that eye-squeeze thing that Jensen’s learning means Jared either thinks he’s the most infuriating person alive, or possibly a complete idiot. “not literally. I meant I would never intentionally hurt you, that doesn’t mean I’m not physically capable of it.”
“You won’t, you wouldn’t let yourself.” Again, what’s with the not freaking out? Because this? Feels totally freak out worthy. If there’s one thing Jensen’s life has taught him, it’s that there’s nobody who can’t hurt him. But apparently his body’s having none of it.
“Jensen, I’m fine,” Jared assures him steadily, “I know it’s unfathomable to you that somebody could be ok without sex, but it’s really not that big of a deal.”
“It’s a fucking crime against nature!” Oh look, there’s the freak out. Now he just needs to figure out why it’s happening over the wrong damn thing. “Look at you; you’re built like fucking’s your one true purpose in life and you wanna tell me that it doesn’t matter? That you don’t want it? Well I call bullshit. I’ve been in your head too, remember? I’ve seen your dreams - fucking vanilla-ass dreams - I know you want it.”
Jared’s come back is so soft Jensen can barely hear it, even in the silent room. It’s also kind of devastating.
“That doesn’t make it ok.”
Here in a minute, Jensen’s going to come up with a really good argument against that. It’s going to be awesome. And persuasive; Jared will have no choice but that bow before the might of Jensen: Debate God. Any minute now.
“So, you’re, like, a virgin?” Ok, that is not the brilliant argument.
Jared’s smile doesn’t quite sit on his lips right. “Not so much ‘like’.”
Wow. This is probably an inopportune time for Jensen’s dick to wake back up. “Have you… I mean, you’ve never done anything?”
“No,” Jared shakes his head, hair sticking out slightly where he keeps combing through it with his fingers.
“So the obsession with making out?” Not that the dreams hadn’t been kinda hot, it had just kind of shocked Jensen how tame they were. That at least is beginning to seem logical now.
Jared blushes beet red but doesn’t answer.
“You have kissed somebody before, right?”
The kid makes a little choked off noise, like a cough with no air behind it, and rubs at his own lips with his fingertips. “I have now.”
“Jesus.”
A part of Jensen feels sort of bad about the way that makes his blood heat up all over again. There are probably rules about not getting turned on like a fucking light switch when your friend tells you embarrassing secrets about himself, but Jensen’s pretty new at the whole friend thing, so he thinks he deserves some leeway. Besides, most people probably don’t have to find out that they just gave their abnormally hot friend his first kiss like ten minutes ago. He sort of feels like he needs to do a disclaimer on that too, because he wasn’t exactly going for awesome kissing technique back there so much as getting his tongue so far inside of Jared’s mouth that Jensen’s the only thing the kid would ever taste again; he can totally do better. Not to mention that now he has to deal with the reality that Jared’s also all innocent and corruptible and-
“Jensen!” Jared chides exasperatedly. Alright, he’s stopping. Probably.
The kid lays his head on the back of the couch and laughs quietly, more like strung-out than actual humor. He whaps Jensen’s leg lightly and Jensen whaps back, leaning in a little as Jared relaxes so that their shoulders brush together.
It feels kinda weirdly right against all of the wrong swishing around in Jensen’s head.
On to Part 4a