Fic: Turning Tail (Jared/Jensen) plus bonus porn!
Fandom: J2
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17 -- Wordcount: 4,500 (drabble included)
Warnings: AU, kitsune!Jensen (in no way related to the kitsunes on SPN 7x03, just so we're clear)
Notes: The first of my creature!boys fics: for the "kitsune" prompt by none other than koneko_kitsune of course! I also iincluded a porny drabble of these two at the end because try as I might, the story itself just refused to turn into smut. Also, once again *title facepalm*.
Summary - “Have, um,” one of the two remaining tails in Jensen’s lap slips free, brushing over the shape of his legs folded beneath him, “Have they always been there? Do you hide them under your pants or something?”
The small of Jared’s back bumps the kitchen counter almost hard enough to be painful but honestly, that’s not the kind of hard he’s worried about at the moment. Jensen is warm against his front, soft in all the right ways and rough in all of the others; destroying Jared’s ability to think with these nibbley little sucks at his lower lip.
His hands are roaming over Jared’s chest, sneaking under the hem of his shirt to palm at skin already flushed to tingling. Jensen has great hands, quick and talented, always showing up just where Jared needs them before he even has a chance to realize it’s what he needs.
Well, at least he seems to, going by the several ridiculously hot makeout sessions they’ve had so far and that one rushed, fantastic handjob in the back room of the animal rescue center during Jared’s lunch break.
Rushed and fantastic is a pretty good description for this whole thing between them, actually. They’d met less than a week ago when Jared got sent out on a call about an unidentified wild animal harassing some of the local dogs. He’s honestly still not convinced that it’s anything other than a few house pets deciding to bark at the wind or a passing car in the middle of the night, but taking a look around had at least appeased the old guy who’d been calling in twice a day about a ‘mutant cat’ taunting his schnauzer through the window. It had also sent him on a wild goose chase through the neighborhood with the aid of a particular, very helpful - hot, single, gay; score! - green-eyed jogger and landed him a dinner date with the most ludicrously gorgeous man he’d ever met.
Coy isn’t exactly a word Jared would use to describe Jensen, especially not right now when he’s having a formal meet-and-greet with Jared’s tonsils, but he’s… unusual. Maybe a little bit of a tease. Jared had been revved and ready to go after date one, which, ok, might be a bit too fast if he’s looking to build a real relationship - which, after a couple more dates with Jensen, he definitely is - but after seeing each other every single night since they met and having Jensen demurely turn down his invitation to come home with him every single time, he had sort of been developing a complex. And then tonight, out of the blue, Jensen had said yes.
Jensen’s fingers are flirting at the button of Jared’s fly, toying with the idea of pulling it open and relieving some of the torturous pressure on Jared’s cock. It is a measure of Jared’s gentlemanly restraint that he hasn’t already tackled his date to the kitchen floor and started tearing his clothes off. He digs his fingers into the meat of Jensen’s ass through those damnedably tight jeans instead and gets a growly, pleased noise in response.
Just as the button finally pulls free, the zipper clicking down a couple of notches all on its own from the urgent press of Jared’s hard-on, the moment is interrupted by a muffled, booming bark. Jensen pumps a shocked squeak directly into Jared’s mouth and climbs him like a tree. Literally, feet off the ground, legs scrabbling for purchase against Jared’s sides, climbs him.
Now Jared’s a strong guy and all, but Jensen’s not exactly petite and he wasn’t really braced for an armful for full-grown guy at this particular moment, at least not in quite this way, so Jared’s shoes skid haltingly on floor, just barely managing to catch his balance with a hand on the counter, the other scooped around behind Jensen to hang on.
“Whoa, whoa! Ok. You’re fine. You’re good. They’re in their room.” Jared tries to sound soothing but it probably comes across more as breathless considering he’s straining to hold up a man almost the same size as him while also attempting to calm his own frantic heartbeat.
The dog issue is going to be a problem. Jared loves his babies and usually being a dog person is one of his relationship make-or-break points, but it’s not like he can really blame Jensen for being attacked by a dog as a kid. Anybody would be traumatized from that. And Harley and Sadie are the sweetest pups in the world - if anyone can win Jensen over, it will be them. Just, you know, maybe not tonight. Jared’s really got his sights set on getting laid - behavioral therapy can wait until breakfast.
Carefully he eases Jensen back to the floor. There are fine trembles running through Jensen’s body, his breathing still choppy and erratic against Jared’s neck, but the dogs are getting restless about being kept locked up when they’ve obviously heard him come home and it doesn’t seem like Jensen’s situation is likely to get any better as long as they keep making a racket.
“I’m going to let them outside side, ok?” he murmurs against Jensen’s temple, “Just stay in here until I let them out back and then you can go upstairs okay?”
There’s the click of a dry swallow from Jensen, but he nods slightly, releasing the death grip he had on Jared’s shirt.
Jared kisses him one more time before he turns to go, fighting back the naturally protective urge that hits him when he gets a good look at how pale Jensen’s gone.
The pups are their usual rambunctious selves after being locked up for a couple of hours, hopping and turning circles around his feet. Sadie makes a beeline for the back door, their routine perfectly ingrained, but Harley pauses in the hallway, takes a few wary steps toward the kitchen as he scents the air before Jared wrangles him back. Harley wouldn’t hurt a fly, but he’s a big lug who’s still convinced he’s a puppy and Jared seriously doubts Jensen’s anywhere near ready to deal with that.
They do their business with the speed of someone expecting dinner as soon as they get back in the house and Jared ushers them inside, giving them a few extra pats and rubs since most of his attention for the rest of the night has been allotted for Jensen and his dick. He figures they’ll understand - daddy needs love too.
Except Harley seems to have made it his personal mission in life to make sure daddy’s needs crash and burn.
He meanders around the living room for a minute, nose in the air, as Jared heads back to the laundry room to put some food in their bowls - normally more than enough to distract Harl from whatever he’s up to. Sadie munches away happily and if Harley doesn’t get back here soon, she’s going to help herself to his serving too - smaller or not, there’s not much doubt who the alpha of their little pack is.
That’s when he hears the heavy tromp of paws on the stairs, the sound hitting his gut like a battering ram. He’d told Jensen to lock the door, right? Surely he told Jensen to lock the door because Harley has figured out how to hook his snout on the door handle and if Jensen’s just up there in the bedroom with the door shut…
Shit.
Jared hasn’t even set foot on the bottom step when he hears this terrible scream, a haunting, inhuman thing that jangles at his nerves over the sound of Harley baying.
If he ever actually climbs the stairs, his brain skips over it - jumping directly from bottom of the steps to bedroom door without a breath in between. It’s open, of course, because Jared’s an idiot who didn’t tell his dog-phobic date that his gigantic mutt can operate doors, Harley pawing agitatedly at the carpet and trying to cram his too-big body underneath the bed.
That terrible screeching is unrelenting and Jared can’t think around it, can only try and deal with the problem by grabbing at Harley’s collar and all but dragging him away from his single minded pursuit of the dust bunnies under the bed and out of the room.
This time he’s smart enough to flip the lock when the door shuts behind him and the stillness that follows is almost earthshattering.
His room seems to have escaped relatively unscathed; the covers are rumpled, floor strewn with Jensen’s clothes but otherwise, it looks exactly as Jared left it. Which doesn’t really make sense considering there’s supposed to be a guy he may have just epically blown his chance with somewhere around here.
A cursory check finds nothing in the bathroom or the closet. Jensen can’t have left because his clothes are still on the floor, shoes included and that’s… what the hell is going on?
There’s no way Jensen could possibly fit under the bed - Jared once got himself trapped with one arm under the bedframe trying to liberate a lost sock, so there’s no chance Jensen could make that work - but that’s where Harley was concentrating all of his efforts and Jared’s kind of out of ideas at this point.
One of his knees pops as he gets down beside the bed and lifts up the edge of the comforter to peer into the dark space beneath. Definitely no Jensen. That sock’s still there though. And way more lint than he cares to think about. And… and what is that?
There’s some sort of dark lump pushed up against the wall at the head of Jared’s bed, an oddly shaped thing that he can’t make out in this light. It’s probably just a blanket or a runaway sweat shirt or something, but he finds himself reaching for it anyway out of reflexive curiosity.
And it moves.
It moves fucking fast! Darting away from Jared’s hand and out the other side of the bed.
By the time Jared scrambles up it has scurried around the end of the bed and is making a mad dash for the bathroom - an orangey streak across his taupe carpet. Only two words come to him in the stunned silence of him mind.
Mutant. Cat.
His body’s pretty much running on autopilot at the moment because his brain stalled out somewhere between Jensen’s disappearing act and an old man’s crazy ramblings come to life. He finds himself in the door of the bathroom, watching with shocked fascination as the little creature paces the floor, its paws sliding a bit on the slick tile before it seems to realize it’s trapped.
It’s not actually a cat, Jared can see now that it has settled down in the corner by the toilet, scrunched up as small as it can get. Actually, it looks a hell of a lot like a fox, except for the tiny little problem of it having three tails. They seem to move independently of one another, twining around the creature’s back feet as a barrier of fluff, twisting up together almost like a braid before fidgeting free again.
Maybe Jared fell on the stairs and this is all the very vivid product of a massive concussion.
The creature looks up at him with these big sad eyes that don’t seem to go with the rest of the picture. Because - he realizes after a moment - its eyes are green. Shining gold-green.
Ok, Jared needs to sit down now.
“That’s not- You’re not-“ he bumbles dully over the words, “You cannot be-“
Very slowly, the animal puts one chocolate-brown paw out, delicately setting it to the floor and then pulling it away again, back and forth, back and forth, hesitating. Finally it seems to decide it’s safe to move - Jared’s pretty confident that he lost the higher functions that handle things like attacking, even if he were so inclined - padding a few steps away from the wall on nearly silent feet before skittering back.
Obviously he’s having some sort of major dissociative episode, so Jared’s not entirely sure how long it takes for the little fox-thing to do its indecision dance all the way over to him. When at last it makes the whole trek, it settles down again, tension coming off of it in waves, its tails twitching irritably. The eyes it looks up at him with are still the same though - still way too smart and expressive for any animal Jared has ever seen.
“Jensen?” He feels nuts as soon as the name leaves his mouth. Even more nuts when the fox-thing ducks its head forlornly and looks at him with what can only be described as a pout despite having absolutely none of the appropriate facial features to form one.
“Jensen?” he repeats, indignantly this time, because if he’s going to go jumping of the sanity pier, he might as well do a cannonball.
The fox-thing shuffles uncomfortably, scooting back a step or two. It gives Jared a long, assessing look and then an exaggerated huff.
Jared’s not completely clear on what comes after that because it all seems to happen in the blink of an eye. The creature shifts up onto its feet again and shivers and then it just sort of grows, the spaces between its bright orangey fur fattening to bare pink skin, legs and neck and face twisting in awkward ways with these almost inaudible pops until suddenly it’s Jensen sitting there on the bathroom floor in front of him.
Naked.
With three white-tipped fox tails.
“This is officially the weirdest date I’ve ever been on.”
Jensen cracks a smile at that, though it looks fragile and unsteady. As freaked out as Jared is right now, he still finds himself flooded with the urge to pull Jensen in and coddle him into giving up a real smile.
“I was going to tell you,” he says softly, twirling the end of one tail with his finger, “If that helps.”
Honestly, Jared’s not really sure that it does. Then again, twenty minutes ago he’d been positive that Jensen was a human being, so certainty is seeming a little overrated at the moment.
“And you would have been telling me, what? That you’re a… a were-fox? Plus some tails?”
At the mention, Jensen’s tails curl in closer to his body, wrapping around his hips to cover his bare lap. Jensen pets at them like a cat, an absent little gesture since most of his energy seems to be devoted to hitting the most weirdly effective mix of a scowl and a blush that Jared’s ever seen.
“Kitsune,” he corrects unhappily, “It’s a kind of shapeshifter.”
“Oh,” is the best Jared’s got in return because seriously, what do you say to that? It doesn’t seem to make Jensen feels any better though since his eyes suddenly devote themselves to scouring the tile grout.
“It’s not contagious or anything, you won’t catch it,” is a mumble, “I was born this way.”
“Like…” Oh this is so not the point to latch onto, Jared can feel it before the words leave his mouth but he still can’t stop himself from asking, “Like this way or the other one. The little fuzzy… Oh my God, were you born a puppy?”
Jensen’s eyes go hugely wide, mouth working mutely for a moment before snapping closed.
Tightly, he answers, “They’re called kits.”
Holy. Shit.
Ok, well that’s… kind of disturbing. And maybe just a little bit adorable. In an incredibly messed-up way, of course, but still. Great, now he’s trying to imagine Jensen as a tiny baby fox. And it’s precious. Time to un-bookmark Cute Overload.
“Ok.”
“Ok?” Jensen arches an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s… it’s a lot to process and it’s probably going to be a while before I can really wrap my head around it, but-“ the ending of the sentence dies on Jared’s lips as the tails twitch, doing a fuzzy little fan-dance over Jensen’s lap again, playing peekaboo with strong, pale thighs, the soft, almost vulnerable swell of his dick.
“What?” Jensen asks, suspiciously, his arm reaching down to protectively scoop his tails in closer to his body. It drags Jared’s attention back up to where Jensen’s eyes are narrowed at him, defensive.
“Hmm? Sorry, I was just… I’m just trying to figure out how big of a pervert it makes me that I think those are kind of hot.” He gives a short nod in the general direction of Jensen’s armful of fur and once again, they sort of flick in response. The top one goes so far as to make a slow sweep across Jensen’s chest, the tip brushing at the underside of his chin coquettishly.
“Yeah?” Jensen dares a small quirk of his lips, eyes flashing down then back up at Jared through his lashes. Oh he is way too good at that.
“Yeah,” Jared agrees in a voice gone helplessly tight.
“Thanks.” That smile has morphed into a smirk and damn if it doesn’t look even better on Jensen. “I always liked yours too.”
It takes a minute for that to trickle through Jared’s filters because that one tail is doing this metronome tick that drags it back and forth over Jensen’s nipple, pebbling it with each swipe. That is a naughty, naughty tail. When he gets it, though, he has to laugh, one hand unconsciously sliding over the curve of his ass.
“Have, um,” one of the two remaining tails in Jensen’s lap slips free, brushing over the shape of his legs folded beneath him, “Have they always been there? Do you hide them under your pants or something?”
Jared has to catch his fingers short of reaching out and actually touching, letting them rest halfway across the small divide of chilly tile between them.
“Oh, no, I can make them hide.” Jared doesn’t think he’s imagining a slight breathlessness in Jensen’s voice. The tail touching his legs makes another circuit, skimming the floor just a bit this time, so close to Jared’s fingertips that he can feel the air stir. “It’s just harder to control when I’m nervous.”
“I’m really sorry about Harley,” he apologizes honestly. He’s not really sorry that Jensen’s not keeping this huge secret from him anymore, but he gets that this maybe wasn’t the ideal scenario for the big reveal.
“It’s ok,” Jensen shrugs, and this time there is the briefest brush of soft fur over his knuckles, “It happens.”
“They’ll get used to you, we just have to ease them into it a little.” On the next swoop of Jensen’s tail he lifts one finger so they catch together for a moment, fur gliding silkily in the webbing between his knuckles.
“You- you still want to see me?” The question is hushed, barely a breath, and that more than anything is what makes Jared scoot forward to rest a hand on Jensen’s knee. Uncertain green eyes meet him, pleading and yet resigned in a tragic way that makes Jared wonder how many people Jensen’s ever told about what he is.
“You’re still you, right? I mean, all of the other stuff, everything we talked about, that wasn’t just an act too, was it?”
“No!” Jensen says urgently, one tail curling around Jared’s wrist for a moment before he seems to realize what he’s doing and pulls away, “No, that’s me. Just, you know, the less furry version.” The half-smile he gives up at the joke is so unsteady Jared can’t stop himself from kissing it, a short, soft thing that Jensen chases after almost dreamily.
Thus, Jared’s, “Well luckily, I have just about every lint roller on the market, so I think we’ll be ok,” gets mostly lost in Jensen’s mouth, but since Jensen makes that pleased, growly sound again - suddenly that has a whole new meaning and it sends heat streaming down Jared’s body like hot candle wax - he gets the feeling it’s not really much of a loss at all.
*********
“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Jensen whines, wiggling his ass back against Jared’s fingers - both sets; the ones pressing deep into his ass, opening him up, and the ones scritching at the sweet spot at the very base of his tails.
Jared is helpless to keep in a low laugh over it; the constant, unyielding desperation that Jensen always has when it comes to sex. Jensen growls his annoyance, but it doesn’t do anything about the obscene arch of his back, trying to tempt Jared in. Not that he needs much tempting.
“Not gonna stop, baby,” he promises. He leans down to mouth a path between his hands, licking between the digits stretching Jensen’s hole and nipping at the baby-fine border of fur where tails meet spine, teasing and tasting until Jensen starts hurling obscenities that come out more like wordless sounds.
Lining himself up is all the incentive the tails need to give back his taunting in full. They skate over his hips, curl and dip around his ass and thighs with whispers of ticklish pleasure. The middle one is just long enough to reach his chin, pressing demandingly at his throat until he catches it in a hand and nuzzles at it. Jared’s not entirely convinced they don’t each have minds of their own at times like this - it’s like having a couple of extra lovers to deal with. Then again, it’s also like having three extra silky-smooth hands all over him, so who’s he to complain?
They’ve been at this for a while now - working Jensen into a frenzy is almost as much fun as the sex itself - so the muscles are loosened enough that Jared slots all the way in on the first push. Jensen grinds back against him immediately keening into the pillows he’s got his face buried in.
Downstairs Harley gives a half-hearted ruff, more of an acknowledgement than anything. The channel around him flutters skittishly, tails digging in like they’re trying to imbed in his skin, but Jensen’s shape holds - thank god; Jensen’s adorable in his fluffy form, but Jared’s probably never going to get over the creep factor of that one time that he accidentally shifted in the middle of things - and after Jared leans over to blanket him completely with his body, he settles down. The dogs and Jensen have a tentative truce but Jared’s guessing it’s going to take more than a few weeks before they’re really comfortable around one another. He can live with it until then.
Jensen turns his head to nip at Jared’s jaw, teeth a little sharper than could strictly pass for human. A slow, steady churn of Jared’s hips gets the breath against his skin turning ragged, the nips just a smidge sharper - full of that feral edge that Jensen will deny until his dying breath but Jared loves anyway. There’s a lot that he loves about Jensen actually, even if it still seems a little early in this thing between them to put it all into words. He has a sneaking suspicion that Jensen knows regardless.
They pick up a reasonably smooth rhythm, juddering every now and again when one of Jensen’s tails tickles up his side or that middle one - troublemaker - slides down over his sac and up between Jared’s cheeks so he’s rubbing off against soft, warm fur at the same time his dick is being swallowed up by sucking satin heat. Yep, totally ruined for regular human sex.
“Jen,” Jared huffs as he starts to piston in and out of Jensen’s body, that tingling rush that’s nothing more or less than ‘other’ sinking into the base of his spine. He doesn’t know if that’s something Jensen does or just what he is, but it’s incredible and it takes a sack session that was already enough to have Jared near-to twitching with sweet overload and turns up the volume.
Jensen arches back against him at an almost impossible angle, head tossing on the sheets like a ‘no’ when every last inch of his body is screaming ‘yes’. He’s losing these sharp hiccups of sound that Jared values his balls too much to refer to as yips that mean he’s getting close. His hands roam across the bed until they find Jared’s to hold onto just in case he gets any ideas about helping out. Honestly, Jared hasn’t got a clue what Jensen’s deal is about only coming on his cock but he pops wood every time he thinks about it, so again, no complaints here.
The tails are doing their level best to drive him up the wall, caressing his inner thighs, flicking at the meat of his ass like velvet soft riding crops, that fucking middle one pushing his balls up snug to the base of his cock like a dare. Meanwhile Jensen’s not doing a damn thing to make this last any longer. He’s rubbing his face against Jared’s sweat-slicked arm, licking and biting at it just this side of breaking the skin, inhaling deep like he’s getting high off the scent. This noise that isn’t even close to a word comes pouring out of him and Jared can feel it in every leap of muscle when he flies, headfirst, over the edge of it.
The tightness is almost unbearable, breath-stealing, fucking up Jared’s head with the blind need to rut into it and the fear of hurting Jensen. It’s the former that usually wins out nowadays because Jensen has proved more than once now that he can take anything Jared dishes out and then some. He’s not going to say he takes it as a challenge, but he’s definitely never let himself off the leash with anyone else like this before.
A numberless drive of thrusts later and Jared’s lost in it, that white-hot ecstasy sparking fitfully up to the base of his skull until his vision goes and the world turns into a hot-cold fog. One day soon they really need to have a more in depth talk about the ‘can’t catch human diseases’ thing but for now he just revels in the slick pulse of come all round his dick and the possessive thrill of marking Jensen up on the inside.
Thus far he’s come down absolutely certain he’s crushed Jensen to death every single time they’ve slept together. If anything, Jensen seems to like it, perfectly content to lie under Jared and make small, happy noises like he’s breathing just fine, but Jared still feels like an asshole.
“Sorry baby,” he murmurs against the nape of Jensen’s neck, carefully pulling out and rolling off to the side. Jensen just hums and shoots him a flirty, sated grin. He also crawls most of the way on top of Jared again to pillow himself against Jared’s shoulder.
Odds are good that at some point during the night he’s going to wake up with something furry and notably smaller curled up against him instead - he’s starting to be less weirded out about that - but for now it’s just Jensen, warm and relaxed against him, tails swishing lazily at Jared’s knee. And that’s just about all he could wish for.
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17 -- Wordcount: 4,500 (drabble included)
Warnings: AU, kitsune!Jensen (in no way related to the kitsunes on SPN 7x03, just so we're clear)
Notes: The first of my creature!boys fics: for the "kitsune" prompt by none other than koneko_kitsune of course! I also iincluded a porny drabble of these two at the end because try as I might, the story itself just refused to turn into smut. Also, once again *title facepalm*.
Summary - “Have, um,” one of the two remaining tails in Jensen’s lap slips free, brushing over the shape of his legs folded beneath him, “Have they always been there? Do you hide them under your pants or something?”
The small of Jared’s back bumps the kitchen counter almost hard enough to be painful but honestly, that’s not the kind of hard he’s worried about at the moment. Jensen is warm against his front, soft in all the right ways and rough in all of the others; destroying Jared’s ability to think with these nibbley little sucks at his lower lip.
His hands are roaming over Jared’s chest, sneaking under the hem of his shirt to palm at skin already flushed to tingling. Jensen has great hands, quick and talented, always showing up just where Jared needs them before he even has a chance to realize it’s what he needs.
Well, at least he seems to, going by the several ridiculously hot makeout sessions they’ve had so far and that one rushed, fantastic handjob in the back room of the animal rescue center during Jared’s lunch break.
Rushed and fantastic is a pretty good description for this whole thing between them, actually. They’d met less than a week ago when Jared got sent out on a call about an unidentified wild animal harassing some of the local dogs. He’s honestly still not convinced that it’s anything other than a few house pets deciding to bark at the wind or a passing car in the middle of the night, but taking a look around had at least appeased the old guy who’d been calling in twice a day about a ‘mutant cat’ taunting his schnauzer through the window. It had also sent him on a wild goose chase through the neighborhood with the aid of a particular, very helpful - hot, single, gay; score! - green-eyed jogger and landed him a dinner date with the most ludicrously gorgeous man he’d ever met.
Coy isn’t exactly a word Jared would use to describe Jensen, especially not right now when he’s having a formal meet-and-greet with Jared’s tonsils, but he’s… unusual. Maybe a little bit of a tease. Jared had been revved and ready to go after date one, which, ok, might be a bit too fast if he’s looking to build a real relationship - which, after a couple more dates with Jensen, he definitely is - but after seeing each other every single night since they met and having Jensen demurely turn down his invitation to come home with him every single time, he had sort of been developing a complex. And then tonight, out of the blue, Jensen had said yes.
Jensen’s fingers are flirting at the button of Jared’s fly, toying with the idea of pulling it open and relieving some of the torturous pressure on Jared’s cock. It is a measure of Jared’s gentlemanly restraint that he hasn’t already tackled his date to the kitchen floor and started tearing his clothes off. He digs his fingers into the meat of Jensen’s ass through those damnedably tight jeans instead and gets a growly, pleased noise in response.
Just as the button finally pulls free, the zipper clicking down a couple of notches all on its own from the urgent press of Jared’s hard-on, the moment is interrupted by a muffled, booming bark. Jensen pumps a shocked squeak directly into Jared’s mouth and climbs him like a tree. Literally, feet off the ground, legs scrabbling for purchase against Jared’s sides, climbs him.
Now Jared’s a strong guy and all, but Jensen’s not exactly petite and he wasn’t really braced for an armful for full-grown guy at this particular moment, at least not in quite this way, so Jared’s shoes skid haltingly on floor, just barely managing to catch his balance with a hand on the counter, the other scooped around behind Jensen to hang on.
“Whoa, whoa! Ok. You’re fine. You’re good. They’re in their room.” Jared tries to sound soothing but it probably comes across more as breathless considering he’s straining to hold up a man almost the same size as him while also attempting to calm his own frantic heartbeat.
The dog issue is going to be a problem. Jared loves his babies and usually being a dog person is one of his relationship make-or-break points, but it’s not like he can really blame Jensen for being attacked by a dog as a kid. Anybody would be traumatized from that. And Harley and Sadie are the sweetest pups in the world - if anyone can win Jensen over, it will be them. Just, you know, maybe not tonight. Jared’s really got his sights set on getting laid - behavioral therapy can wait until breakfast.
Carefully he eases Jensen back to the floor. There are fine trembles running through Jensen’s body, his breathing still choppy and erratic against Jared’s neck, but the dogs are getting restless about being kept locked up when they’ve obviously heard him come home and it doesn’t seem like Jensen’s situation is likely to get any better as long as they keep making a racket.
“I’m going to let them outside side, ok?” he murmurs against Jensen’s temple, “Just stay in here until I let them out back and then you can go upstairs okay?”
There’s the click of a dry swallow from Jensen, but he nods slightly, releasing the death grip he had on Jared’s shirt.
Jared kisses him one more time before he turns to go, fighting back the naturally protective urge that hits him when he gets a good look at how pale Jensen’s gone.
The pups are their usual rambunctious selves after being locked up for a couple of hours, hopping and turning circles around his feet. Sadie makes a beeline for the back door, their routine perfectly ingrained, but Harley pauses in the hallway, takes a few wary steps toward the kitchen as he scents the air before Jared wrangles him back. Harley wouldn’t hurt a fly, but he’s a big lug who’s still convinced he’s a puppy and Jared seriously doubts Jensen’s anywhere near ready to deal with that.
They do their business with the speed of someone expecting dinner as soon as they get back in the house and Jared ushers them inside, giving them a few extra pats and rubs since most of his attention for the rest of the night has been allotted for Jensen and his dick. He figures they’ll understand - daddy needs love too.
Except Harley seems to have made it his personal mission in life to make sure daddy’s needs crash and burn.
He meanders around the living room for a minute, nose in the air, as Jared heads back to the laundry room to put some food in their bowls - normally more than enough to distract Harl from whatever he’s up to. Sadie munches away happily and if Harley doesn’t get back here soon, she’s going to help herself to his serving too - smaller or not, there’s not much doubt who the alpha of their little pack is.
That’s when he hears the heavy tromp of paws on the stairs, the sound hitting his gut like a battering ram. He’d told Jensen to lock the door, right? Surely he told Jensen to lock the door because Harley has figured out how to hook his snout on the door handle and if Jensen’s just up there in the bedroom with the door shut…
Shit.
Jared hasn’t even set foot on the bottom step when he hears this terrible scream, a haunting, inhuman thing that jangles at his nerves over the sound of Harley baying.
If he ever actually climbs the stairs, his brain skips over it - jumping directly from bottom of the steps to bedroom door without a breath in between. It’s open, of course, because Jared’s an idiot who didn’t tell his dog-phobic date that his gigantic mutt can operate doors, Harley pawing agitatedly at the carpet and trying to cram his too-big body underneath the bed.
That terrible screeching is unrelenting and Jared can’t think around it, can only try and deal with the problem by grabbing at Harley’s collar and all but dragging him away from his single minded pursuit of the dust bunnies under the bed and out of the room.
This time he’s smart enough to flip the lock when the door shuts behind him and the stillness that follows is almost earthshattering.
His room seems to have escaped relatively unscathed; the covers are rumpled, floor strewn with Jensen’s clothes but otherwise, it looks exactly as Jared left it. Which doesn’t really make sense considering there’s supposed to be a guy he may have just epically blown his chance with somewhere around here.
A cursory check finds nothing in the bathroom or the closet. Jensen can’t have left because his clothes are still on the floor, shoes included and that’s… what the hell is going on?
There’s no way Jensen could possibly fit under the bed - Jared once got himself trapped with one arm under the bedframe trying to liberate a lost sock, so there’s no chance Jensen could make that work - but that’s where Harley was concentrating all of his efforts and Jared’s kind of out of ideas at this point.
One of his knees pops as he gets down beside the bed and lifts up the edge of the comforter to peer into the dark space beneath. Definitely no Jensen. That sock’s still there though. And way more lint than he cares to think about. And… and what is that?
There’s some sort of dark lump pushed up against the wall at the head of Jared’s bed, an oddly shaped thing that he can’t make out in this light. It’s probably just a blanket or a runaway sweat shirt or something, but he finds himself reaching for it anyway out of reflexive curiosity.
And it moves.
It moves fucking fast! Darting away from Jared’s hand and out the other side of the bed.
By the time Jared scrambles up it has scurried around the end of the bed and is making a mad dash for the bathroom - an orangey streak across his taupe carpet. Only two words come to him in the stunned silence of him mind.
Mutant. Cat.
His body’s pretty much running on autopilot at the moment because his brain stalled out somewhere between Jensen’s disappearing act and an old man’s crazy ramblings come to life. He finds himself in the door of the bathroom, watching with shocked fascination as the little creature paces the floor, its paws sliding a bit on the slick tile before it seems to realize it’s trapped.
It’s not actually a cat, Jared can see now that it has settled down in the corner by the toilet, scrunched up as small as it can get. Actually, it looks a hell of a lot like a fox, except for the tiny little problem of it having three tails. They seem to move independently of one another, twining around the creature’s back feet as a barrier of fluff, twisting up together almost like a braid before fidgeting free again.
Maybe Jared fell on the stairs and this is all the very vivid product of a massive concussion.
The creature looks up at him with these big sad eyes that don’t seem to go with the rest of the picture. Because - he realizes after a moment - its eyes are green. Shining gold-green.
Ok, Jared needs to sit down now.
“That’s not- You’re not-“ he bumbles dully over the words, “You cannot be-“
Very slowly, the animal puts one chocolate-brown paw out, delicately setting it to the floor and then pulling it away again, back and forth, back and forth, hesitating. Finally it seems to decide it’s safe to move - Jared’s pretty confident that he lost the higher functions that handle things like attacking, even if he were so inclined - padding a few steps away from the wall on nearly silent feet before skittering back.
Obviously he’s having some sort of major dissociative episode, so Jared’s not entirely sure how long it takes for the little fox-thing to do its indecision dance all the way over to him. When at last it makes the whole trek, it settles down again, tension coming off of it in waves, its tails twitching irritably. The eyes it looks up at him with are still the same though - still way too smart and expressive for any animal Jared has ever seen.
“Jensen?” He feels nuts as soon as the name leaves his mouth. Even more nuts when the fox-thing ducks its head forlornly and looks at him with what can only be described as a pout despite having absolutely none of the appropriate facial features to form one.
“Jensen?” he repeats, indignantly this time, because if he’s going to go jumping of the sanity pier, he might as well do a cannonball.
The fox-thing shuffles uncomfortably, scooting back a step or two. It gives Jared a long, assessing look and then an exaggerated huff.
Jared’s not completely clear on what comes after that because it all seems to happen in the blink of an eye. The creature shifts up onto its feet again and shivers and then it just sort of grows, the spaces between its bright orangey fur fattening to bare pink skin, legs and neck and face twisting in awkward ways with these almost inaudible pops until suddenly it’s Jensen sitting there on the bathroom floor in front of him.
Naked.
With three white-tipped fox tails.
“This is officially the weirdest date I’ve ever been on.”
Jensen cracks a smile at that, though it looks fragile and unsteady. As freaked out as Jared is right now, he still finds himself flooded with the urge to pull Jensen in and coddle him into giving up a real smile.
“I was going to tell you,” he says softly, twirling the end of one tail with his finger, “If that helps.”
Honestly, Jared’s not really sure that it does. Then again, twenty minutes ago he’d been positive that Jensen was a human being, so certainty is seeming a little overrated at the moment.
“And you would have been telling me, what? That you’re a… a were-fox? Plus some tails?”
At the mention, Jensen’s tails curl in closer to his body, wrapping around his hips to cover his bare lap. Jensen pets at them like a cat, an absent little gesture since most of his energy seems to be devoted to hitting the most weirdly effective mix of a scowl and a blush that Jared’s ever seen.
“Kitsune,” he corrects unhappily, “It’s a kind of shapeshifter.”
“Oh,” is the best Jared’s got in return because seriously, what do you say to that? It doesn’t seem to make Jensen feels any better though since his eyes suddenly devote themselves to scouring the tile grout.
“It’s not contagious or anything, you won’t catch it,” is a mumble, “I was born this way.”
“Like…” Oh this is so not the point to latch onto, Jared can feel it before the words leave his mouth but he still can’t stop himself from asking, “Like this way or the other one. The little fuzzy… Oh my God, were you born a puppy?”
Jensen’s eyes go hugely wide, mouth working mutely for a moment before snapping closed.
Tightly, he answers, “They’re called kits.”
Holy. Shit.
Ok, well that’s… kind of disturbing. And maybe just a little bit adorable. In an incredibly messed-up way, of course, but still. Great, now he’s trying to imagine Jensen as a tiny baby fox. And it’s precious. Time to un-bookmark Cute Overload.
“Ok.”
“Ok?” Jensen arches an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s… it’s a lot to process and it’s probably going to be a while before I can really wrap my head around it, but-“ the ending of the sentence dies on Jared’s lips as the tails twitch, doing a fuzzy little fan-dance over Jensen’s lap again, playing peekaboo with strong, pale thighs, the soft, almost vulnerable swell of his dick.
“What?” Jensen asks, suspiciously, his arm reaching down to protectively scoop his tails in closer to his body. It drags Jared’s attention back up to where Jensen’s eyes are narrowed at him, defensive.
“Hmm? Sorry, I was just… I’m just trying to figure out how big of a pervert it makes me that I think those are kind of hot.” He gives a short nod in the general direction of Jensen’s armful of fur and once again, they sort of flick in response. The top one goes so far as to make a slow sweep across Jensen’s chest, the tip brushing at the underside of his chin coquettishly.
“Yeah?” Jensen dares a small quirk of his lips, eyes flashing down then back up at Jared through his lashes. Oh he is way too good at that.
“Yeah,” Jared agrees in a voice gone helplessly tight.
“Thanks.” That smile has morphed into a smirk and damn if it doesn’t look even better on Jensen. “I always liked yours too.”
It takes a minute for that to trickle through Jared’s filters because that one tail is doing this metronome tick that drags it back and forth over Jensen’s nipple, pebbling it with each swipe. That is a naughty, naughty tail. When he gets it, though, he has to laugh, one hand unconsciously sliding over the curve of his ass.
“Have, um,” one of the two remaining tails in Jensen’s lap slips free, brushing over the shape of his legs folded beneath him, “Have they always been there? Do you hide them under your pants or something?”
Jared has to catch his fingers short of reaching out and actually touching, letting them rest halfway across the small divide of chilly tile between them.
“Oh, no, I can make them hide.” Jared doesn’t think he’s imagining a slight breathlessness in Jensen’s voice. The tail touching his legs makes another circuit, skimming the floor just a bit this time, so close to Jared’s fingertips that he can feel the air stir. “It’s just harder to control when I’m nervous.”
“I’m really sorry about Harley,” he apologizes honestly. He’s not really sorry that Jensen’s not keeping this huge secret from him anymore, but he gets that this maybe wasn’t the ideal scenario for the big reveal.
“It’s ok,” Jensen shrugs, and this time there is the briefest brush of soft fur over his knuckles, “It happens.”
“They’ll get used to you, we just have to ease them into it a little.” On the next swoop of Jensen’s tail he lifts one finger so they catch together for a moment, fur gliding silkily in the webbing between his knuckles.
“You- you still want to see me?” The question is hushed, barely a breath, and that more than anything is what makes Jared scoot forward to rest a hand on Jensen’s knee. Uncertain green eyes meet him, pleading and yet resigned in a tragic way that makes Jared wonder how many people Jensen’s ever told about what he is.
“You’re still you, right? I mean, all of the other stuff, everything we talked about, that wasn’t just an act too, was it?”
“No!” Jensen says urgently, one tail curling around Jared’s wrist for a moment before he seems to realize what he’s doing and pulls away, “No, that’s me. Just, you know, the less furry version.” The half-smile he gives up at the joke is so unsteady Jared can’t stop himself from kissing it, a short, soft thing that Jensen chases after almost dreamily.
Thus, Jared’s, “Well luckily, I have just about every lint roller on the market, so I think we’ll be ok,” gets mostly lost in Jensen’s mouth, but since Jensen makes that pleased, growly sound again - suddenly that has a whole new meaning and it sends heat streaming down Jared’s body like hot candle wax - he gets the feeling it’s not really much of a loss at all.
*********
“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Jensen whines, wiggling his ass back against Jared’s fingers - both sets; the ones pressing deep into his ass, opening him up, and the ones scritching at the sweet spot at the very base of his tails.
Jared is helpless to keep in a low laugh over it; the constant, unyielding desperation that Jensen always has when it comes to sex. Jensen growls his annoyance, but it doesn’t do anything about the obscene arch of his back, trying to tempt Jared in. Not that he needs much tempting.
“Not gonna stop, baby,” he promises. He leans down to mouth a path between his hands, licking between the digits stretching Jensen’s hole and nipping at the baby-fine border of fur where tails meet spine, teasing and tasting until Jensen starts hurling obscenities that come out more like wordless sounds.
Lining himself up is all the incentive the tails need to give back his taunting in full. They skate over his hips, curl and dip around his ass and thighs with whispers of ticklish pleasure. The middle one is just long enough to reach his chin, pressing demandingly at his throat until he catches it in a hand and nuzzles at it. Jared’s not entirely convinced they don’t each have minds of their own at times like this - it’s like having a couple of extra lovers to deal with. Then again, it’s also like having three extra silky-smooth hands all over him, so who’s he to complain?
They’ve been at this for a while now - working Jensen into a frenzy is almost as much fun as the sex itself - so the muscles are loosened enough that Jared slots all the way in on the first push. Jensen grinds back against him immediately keening into the pillows he’s got his face buried in.
Downstairs Harley gives a half-hearted ruff, more of an acknowledgement than anything. The channel around him flutters skittishly, tails digging in like they’re trying to imbed in his skin, but Jensen’s shape holds - thank god; Jensen’s adorable in his fluffy form, but Jared’s probably never going to get over the creep factor of that one time that he accidentally shifted in the middle of things - and after Jared leans over to blanket him completely with his body, he settles down. The dogs and Jensen have a tentative truce but Jared’s guessing it’s going to take more than a few weeks before they’re really comfortable around one another. He can live with it until then.
Jensen turns his head to nip at Jared’s jaw, teeth a little sharper than could strictly pass for human. A slow, steady churn of Jared’s hips gets the breath against his skin turning ragged, the nips just a smidge sharper - full of that feral edge that Jensen will deny until his dying breath but Jared loves anyway. There’s a lot that he loves about Jensen actually, even if it still seems a little early in this thing between them to put it all into words. He has a sneaking suspicion that Jensen knows regardless.
They pick up a reasonably smooth rhythm, juddering every now and again when one of Jensen’s tails tickles up his side or that middle one - troublemaker - slides down over his sac and up between Jared’s cheeks so he’s rubbing off against soft, warm fur at the same time his dick is being swallowed up by sucking satin heat. Yep, totally ruined for regular human sex.
“Jen,” Jared huffs as he starts to piston in and out of Jensen’s body, that tingling rush that’s nothing more or less than ‘other’ sinking into the base of his spine. He doesn’t know if that’s something Jensen does or just what he is, but it’s incredible and it takes a sack session that was already enough to have Jared near-to twitching with sweet overload and turns up the volume.
Jensen arches back against him at an almost impossible angle, head tossing on the sheets like a ‘no’ when every last inch of his body is screaming ‘yes’. He’s losing these sharp hiccups of sound that Jared values his balls too much to refer to as yips that mean he’s getting close. His hands roam across the bed until they find Jared’s to hold onto just in case he gets any ideas about helping out. Honestly, Jared hasn’t got a clue what Jensen’s deal is about only coming on his cock but he pops wood every time he thinks about it, so again, no complaints here.
The tails are doing their level best to drive him up the wall, caressing his inner thighs, flicking at the meat of his ass like velvet soft riding crops, that fucking middle one pushing his balls up snug to the base of his cock like a dare. Meanwhile Jensen’s not doing a damn thing to make this last any longer. He’s rubbing his face against Jared’s sweat-slicked arm, licking and biting at it just this side of breaking the skin, inhaling deep like he’s getting high off the scent. This noise that isn’t even close to a word comes pouring out of him and Jared can feel it in every leap of muscle when he flies, headfirst, over the edge of it.
The tightness is almost unbearable, breath-stealing, fucking up Jared’s head with the blind need to rut into it and the fear of hurting Jensen. It’s the former that usually wins out nowadays because Jensen has proved more than once now that he can take anything Jared dishes out and then some. He’s not going to say he takes it as a challenge, but he’s definitely never let himself off the leash with anyone else like this before.
A numberless drive of thrusts later and Jared’s lost in it, that white-hot ecstasy sparking fitfully up to the base of his skull until his vision goes and the world turns into a hot-cold fog. One day soon they really need to have a more in depth talk about the ‘can’t catch human diseases’ thing but for now he just revels in the slick pulse of come all round his dick and the possessive thrill of marking Jensen up on the inside.
Thus far he’s come down absolutely certain he’s crushed Jensen to death every single time they’ve slept together. If anything, Jensen seems to like it, perfectly content to lie under Jared and make small, happy noises like he’s breathing just fine, but Jared still feels like an asshole.
“Sorry baby,” he murmurs against the nape of Jensen’s neck, carefully pulling out and rolling off to the side. Jensen just hums and shoots him a flirty, sated grin. He also crawls most of the way on top of Jared again to pillow himself against Jared’s shoulder.
Odds are good that at some point during the night he’s going to wake up with something furry and notably smaller curled up against him instead - he’s starting to be less weirded out about that - but for now it’s just Jensen, warm and relaxed against him, tails swishing lazily at Jared’s knee. And that’s just about all he could wish for.