
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/284709.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural_RPF
  Relationship:
      Jensen_Ackles/Jared_Padalecki
  Character:
      Jared_Padalecki, Jensen_Ackles
  Additional Tags:
      Knotting, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Alternate_Universe_-_Spies_&
      Secret_Agents
  Collections:
      Fall_Fandom_Free-For-All_2011
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-11-28 Words: 8967
****** Show Me How You Do That Trick ******
by deirdre_c
Summary
     Jared is recruited to a training school for pack members with special
     abilities, and Jensen is assigned as his tutor.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***
Jared hates the Academy.
He hadn’t hated it at the start. In fact, it wasn’t so long ago that he’d been
incredibly relieved to find out there even was such a place. When at seventeen
he’d finally—finally! — come of age and popped his first knot, within twenty-
four hours it had inexplicably disappeared and he’d found himself instead
sloppy-wet and aching with Omega heat, after which he’d somehow slid back into
an Alpha state, lust-ridden and swollen. His parents quietly freaked out, while
Jared not-so-quietly freaked out, locking himself in his room, drained and
disgusted and terrified at the way his body was morphing uncontrollably.
It’s such a relief when, just days after his bizarre condition manifested
itself, representatives of the Academy arrived on his doorstep, told his
parents to pack him a bag and hug him goodbye, and hustled him into the back of
a waiting car, windows tinted so he couldn’t see inside. The steely-eyed men
who rode with him calmly explained that Jared was a Shifter, that they were not
a myth but really were Pack members who could change their orientation at will,
choosing to be—hormonally and physically— Alpha, Beta, or Omega whenever they
wished.
They’d whisked him away to this tiny, secluded “school,” where the small
handful of young Shifters were systematically gathered and trained to work for
an ultra-classified branch of the Pack Hierarchy.
Jared had always thought of the Hierarchy— when he’d thought about pack
governance at all— as a mostly ornamental assembly of representatives from the
major familial packs from every region. At the Academy, he found out it was a
far more sophisticated and far-reaching organization than he’d ever dreamed,
including the use of Shifters as a covert unit of political enforcement.
Students like him were instructed how to use their unique skills to infiltrate
rogue packs, gain access to dangerous anti-government groups, even seduce (or,
rumor among the students had it, murder) specific targets who were deemed a
threat to state security. A whole lot of serious shit.
So instead of finishing his junior year with his high school packmates back in
San Antonio—Sandy and Chad, Mike and Tom, heck, he even missed Alexis— Jared
was trapped here at the Academy, with a bunch of other freaks, learning to be a
good little secret agent for a government bureaucracy he didn’t even know
existed six months ago.
Yeah. Jared hates it.
It doesn’t help that he’s a truly terrible liar. The major focus of almost all
of his new classes is espionage, and as much as Jared has always excelled at
reading, writing, and arithmetic, he’s equally bad at secrecy, guile, and
finesse. They want him to be tactful when he can’t help but blurt things out at
inopportune moments. They want him to be stealthy when he feels about as
inconspicuous as a giraffe in a herd of antelope.
He has yet to make it through a single class session on Building and
Maintaining an Alias without giggling, much to the professor’s chagrin.
What’s even worse are his unexpected struggles with altering his phase. They
might have labeled him a Shifter, but it turns out he pretty much sucks at
shifting.
All the first-years at the school start out with intensive training in shifting
between the three phases: how to change scent, to control the secretion of
pheromones, to transform internal and external organs. But unlike the other
students, who, once they get the hang of it, seem to change from state to state
easy as changing clothes, Jared can’t figure out how to control this “power” of
his. No matter how he struggles, what techniques the teachers invent, what top-
secret research papers on the biology of Shifters he scours, Jared inevitably,
involuntarily slides into the same phase as the nearest person to him. If he
pairs with Alona when she’s practicing a shift into Alpha, he transforms into
an Alpha with her. Put him next to Jake when he’s an Omega, and Jared’s
suddenly all Omega.
The teachers have tried exposing him to a conflicting pair or a mixed group,
but that just gives Jared a killer migraine or dry-heaves followed by a quick
trip to the infirmary.
Fortunately for him, standard practice around the school is for everyone to
generally remain in Beta mode. That way, no one has to worry about clamping
down on involuntary biological responses as they go about their day. Like
everyone else, Jared can scent the uncommon presence of Alphas and Omegas when
people shift for class or for homework, or for some experimental sex after
lights-out in the dorms that, when the Heat turns up too high, gets people’s
noses twitching and hackles raised. But for the most part, it’s only close
proximity that precipitates his own shifts.
Small comfort that is when every week that passes in which he still can’t shift
on his own leaves him feeling more and more incompetent and out of place. Add
to that the fact that groups or crowds have begun to stress him out— who knows
if he’ll accidentally run into someone, or worse, two, in opposite phase?— and
he’s well on his way to becoming a hermit.
Which leads to the worst calamity of all: the Dean of Students decides to
assign him Jensen Ackles as a tutor.
Jared can’t really remember exactly when he started to notice Jensen all the
time. Well, that isn’t completely true. He’s pretty sure there was a double-
take involved the first time he passed Jensen on the quad. It would be more
accurate to say that Jared doesn’t know when he started to lose his ability not
to notice Jensen.
Jensen is in the Upper-School, essentially the Academy’s version of college.
Not that this matters much, given there are only a hundred or so Shifters here,
all told; it just makes him seem more intimidating to Jared on top of every
other amazing thing about him. Compared with all of the other students Jared’s
met, Jensen is older, hotter, smarter, kinder… everything-er. He has a
reputation for being one of the most skilled upperclassmen the school has seen
in years, not that Jared has any good sources for gossip. But Jared figures
that Jensen needs to excel simply in order to hide in plain sight. A face like
his would make it difficult to blend in with strangers, gather information, act
as a mole, or any of the other insane things they’re teaching the students here
to do.
So far, Jared has been able to ignore his crush on Jensen; after all, Jared
didn’t run into him very often except between classes. And in the cafeteria.
And after hours in the main dorm’s common room, bent over a book studying. And
sure, Jensen is gorgeous— seriously gorgeous— but that doesn’t mean that Jared
shouldn’t push away thoughts of him and focus on other tasks, especially given
how badly he is screwing up at pretty much every single thing getting thrown at
him.
Jared wonders, what even happens to Shifters who fail out of the Academy? He
wouldn’t be allowed to go home. They can’t let him go out and find some pack of
normals to join, not with what he is, what he knows. He tries not to dwell on
it.
Jared hasn’t made that many friends among his Lower-School classmates yet.
Between his shifting defect and his general dorkiness, he seems to inspire
either bullying or over-protectiveness from the rest of the students, which
leaves him a pretty big chunk of time to hide in his room, alternating between
homesickness and loneliness. Every day that passes the simplicity and ease
found in his life as a young pup seem more and more like a vague dream, this
new life so intimidating. So Jared keeps to himself, head down, reining in his
normal silly and demonstrative behavior, trying to not to be jealous of the
burgeoning friendships and the copious amounts of sex going on around him—teens
in close proximity and all the focus on anatomy and sexy spy stuff, it’s no
surprise— and spending evenings beating off in the showers to thoughts of
Jensen’s hands and mouth and ass like the pitiful loser he is.
However, that shower-time habit is a bit more awkward now that it’s Monday, the
first day of tutoring sessions. Jared opens the door, and Jensen himself is
there, waiting to step into his room.
“Hi. I’m Jensen.”
“I know,” Jared replies, standing like an idiot until his brain kicks into gear
and he shuffles aside to let Jensen in.
First-years live on the top floor of the dorm, where all of the rooms are
approximately the size of a refrigerator box, and, given the fact that Jared
recently topped 6’3’’ and doesn’t show signs of stopping, it’s not exactly
spacious.
Jensen peers around, smiling to himself. “I remember these.” He turns to Jared
with his eyebrows raised, like the two of them are in on some private joke.
“Pretty damn small, huh?”
“Yeah,” Jared says eloquently, but he can’t help responding with a smile in
return. Even this tiny hint of human connection feels like sunshine after weeks
of rain. Plus, this is the closest he’s ever been to Jensen, and his nostrils
flare to draw in the unfamiliar mix of spicy masculine scents, strong russety-
flavors like maple and coffee and amber. It makes him want to step closer and
bury his face in the crook of Jensen’s neck and just breathe.
Jensen says, “Why don’t we sit down?” and Jared’s eyes immediately dart to the
one narrow chair at his desk, and then to his bed, but Jensen is settling
cross-legged on the floor, and Jared heaves a tiny sigh of mixed relief and
disappointment. It’s just as well. The sight of Jensen on his bed would likely
have short-circuited his brain permanently.
Jared plunks down on the floor facing Jensen, kinda close, so he scoots back to
avoid bumping Jensen’s knees. It’s pretty clear he’s a moron. His bones feel
brittle, made of twigs. He’s not sure what to say— Hey, thanks for trying to
fix me, but I’m pretty sure it’s not going to work since I’m such a fuck-up— so
he busies himself picking at a hangnail on his thumb.
“So,” Jensen says. “Trouble with shifting? Professor Singer says you copy the
people around you, right? That’s a new one on me.”
“Me, too,” Jared replies with a snort, and Jensen laughs, this easy low chuckle
where he claps his hands together and his eyes crinkle up. Suddenly the whole
thing seems a lot less like a disaster waiting to happen.
But then, without warning, Jensen shifts. Jared feels it like a drop in air
pressure, and sure enough he shifts as well. His body rearranges itself, a
twist in his stomach, the back of his neck, spine, toes tingling cold. Then,
instead of two Betas, there’s two Omegas sitting on the oval rag rug, one
looking surprised, the other resigned.
“Wow. I wasn’t sure what to expect.” Jensen’s staring at him hard as if he’s
trying to get a look under Jared’s skin. “That was actually… pretty cool.”
Jared shrugs. “I can’t exactly take credit for it.” Not too many students
outside of Jared’s first-year shifting class have seen him change phase
involuntarily, and every time Jared feels a bit like a clever pet performing a
trick.
“So you weren’t even trying?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, what if you try not to?”
“Same thing.”
“Show me.” And the way Jensen says it, like there’s no question of obedience,
gives Jared a little shiver. “I’m going to shift back to Beta, and you try to
stay in Omega.”
Jared nods and tenses up his shoulders, his abs, his thighs, as if he can hold
back the change by sheer muscle-strength. Jared can sense the moment Jensen
starts to transform again, slight variations in scent, posture, expression, all
adding up to the same Jensen, but different.
Jared closes his eyes, bowing his chin to his chest, picturing himself solid,
inert, immutable. He wills his body to obey. But, as always, his body pays no
mind. There’s a familiar angry pulse deep in his gut, and, even as he
concentrates on preventing it, it’s gone. Clear water slipping through his
cupped hands.
He sighs, peeking up at Jensen through his bangs and sniffing surreptitiously
to gauge his reaction. He doesn’t seem repulsed or pitying— two of the more
common reactions Jared’s seen— so that’s good. By the glint in his eye, Jensen
almost looks eager to take on a challenge.
Which is good, because Jared’s so very ready to hand it off.
“Well, looks like we have our work cut out for us,” Jensen says, smoothly
rising to his feet and holding out a hand to help Jared up. Jared hesitates a
second, but then reaches up to clasp Jensen’s hand. It’s firm and warm and fuck
if Jared doesn’t feel the blood rush to his crotch just from the touch of skin
on skin.
“Thanks.” He’s up and shambling backward until the backs of his knees hit the
bed, thinking, don’t blush don’t blush please don’t blush. “I mean, I
appreciate that you’re willing to try to help me.”
“No problem, man. It’s weird, but I can’t believe it’s permanent. All we gotta
do is find a way to flip the right switch. Who knows? I bet if we work at it,
we can get you straightened out by winter.”
As he follows Jensen to the door, Jared discovers that there’s this tiny part
of him that hopes not, if it means he’ll keep getting Jensen alone.
Jensen informs him that Dean Gamble wants them to meet every other day, and it
becomes a regular thing that Jensen stops by after his four-o’clock seminar on
the Political History of Pack Territorial Law to practice with Jared until the
bell rings for dinner.
Every session, Jensen first has Jared try—unsuccessfully—to shift on his own,
then leads him through all the exercises they can dream up: Jensen shifts into
Alpha as slowly as he can to see if Jared, once started, can speed ahead and
finishing shifting first; or, Jensen will rapidly change to Omega and quick-
switch back to Beta, hoping to leave Jared alone in Omega phase. He tries to
get Jared to isolate specific pheromones or hold onto one trait while Jensen
changes another, but to no avail. He makes Jared keep precise records of each
of the methods they try, watching over his shoulder as Jared writes another
line in a slim black notebook, leaning in enough to make Jared’s handwriting
shakier than normal.
One Wednesday afternoon, Jensen shows up and he’s not alone. Beside him in the
hallway is a slight, dark-haired girl, another first-year.
Jared didn’t realize Jensen even knew any other first-years.
“You and Genevieve are friends from classes, right?” he asks, and even though
“friends” is a bit of an overstatement— Jared exchanges a quick glance with
Genevieve to make sure she’s not offended at the label— he nods his head,
opening the door wider for them to enter the room.
While Jensen tosses his backpack in the corner as usual, Genevieve unabashedly
peers around. Jared figures she might be the only student other than Jensen
who’s been in his room, no wonder she’s curious. He wishes he knew her better,
decides that, since Jensen’s essentially vouched for her, maybe he could sit
next to her in Chemistry tomorrow, rather than by himself in the back row.
Jensen says, “I know you told me that earlier in the term you experimented with
what happens around people in two different phases.” It’s that wheedling tone
he uses when he wants to get Jared to try something Jared knows won’t work. “I
just thought, after all the work we’ve been doing, it might go better now.”
Jared’s face scrunches up skeptically. He doesn’t see how there’s any evidence
at all to suggest things will go any differently. But, he’s not about to wimp
out on Jensen, or Genevieve for that matter, just to avoid a headache. “Okay.
Let’s give it a try.”
He holds the desk chair out for Genevieve to sit, then kneels on the floor next
to Jensen to create a triangle. Genevieve leans forward so that her elbows rest
on her knees, and like that, despite the chair, she’s barely taller than Jensen
and him. “What do you want me to do?”
“Jared’s best at shifting into Alpha,” Jensen takes the lead, “so why don’t you
shift to Omega—definitely not in Heat, okay?—and at the same time I’ll go into
Alpha. Jared,” Jensen pins him with a look, demanding all of his attention,
“try to ignore her and follow me. Alright?”
He and Genevieve both nod. Jensen rests his hand on Jared’s shoulder; they’ve
discovered that contact sometimes helps him shift more quickly. Jared leans
into it ever so slightly and takes a deep breath. It’s going to work this time.
“Ready,” Jensen says. “Go.”
Jared does his best to block out Genevieve, barely notices the scent of her
growing softer, more vulnerable, because at the same time Jensen seems to burst
into Alpha. For a moment, Jared doesn’t move, doesn’t shift, nothing, but
before the small seed of hope can even take root, a bomb goes off along his
nerve endings, and he buckles forward, curling in on himself, red wash of
misery flooding his head and chest.
He can barely hear Jensen instructing Genevieve to do… something, can’t tell if
he’s supposed to do something, too. Wouldn’t be able to anyway, he’s too
preoccupied with pressing his forehead down onto his fists where they clench,
dig desperately into his thighs. He bites the inside of his cheek, plunges his
hand into his hair and yanks as hard as he can. Any pain to counteract the one
inside his head.
The overhead light goes out and suddenly Jensen’s crouching down on the floor
beside Jared in the dimness, gently lifting him to his feet, encouraging him
toward the bed. It would be Jared’s favorite fantasy made real if it weren’t
for the fact that his brain is currently trying to leak out of his ear.
Jensen’s making this ludicrous shush-ing sound, so Jared forces himself to stop
the low moans that keep rolling out of him. He doesn’t want Jensen to feel bad
about the attempt and its aftermath. Instead he buries his face in the pillow
and tries to focus on breathing instead of panting.
After a minute or so, he feels the bed dip, and Jensen’s sitting beside him.
“Do you want me to get the nurse, pup?” Jensen whispers. Jared gives his head
the tiniest of shakes.
A minute more, and then a hand rests on the back of Jared’s neck. Gentle
fingers comb through the over-long strands of Jared’s hair, tucking loose ends
behind his ears, massaging his scalp, small circles alternating with long, slow
strokes.
Gradually, the gong sounding in Jared’s head settles down to a dull thump.
Jensen keeps petting him until he falls asleep.
 
***
 
Even after the disastrous experiment with Genevieve, even though Jared still
shows no signs of improving his voluntary control, Jensen refuses to give up.
In fact, Jensen starts to stick around once their sessions are over, walking
with Jared down to the cafeteria and even sitting with him to eat once in
awhile, despite the fact that Jensen’s friends from the Upper School tease him
about sitting at the kiddie table as they stroll past. Jensen usually just
throws a handy breadstick or grape at them. It doesn’t take long for some of
the first-years to start to gravitate to their table, wondering what it is
about Jared that can lure an older student into their territory. For the first
time since arriving, he feels like he’s part of a pack again.
 
***
 
The leaves are mostly off the trees, crunchy underfoot, and although the sun
squats at a deep angle in the sky, it’s still warm enough that Jared can sit
out on the quad catching up on his class reading. Jensen parks himself on the
stiff grass next to him, as he always does when he catches Jared here. Times
like this, Jensen will reminisce with him about Texas or share rumors about the
professors or tell Jared stories about the few preliminary field missions he’s
been allowed out on, carefully avoiding the topic of Jared’s shifting. Jared
will sometimes close his book or his notes and lay back, one arm thrown across
his eyes, letting Jensen’s voice wash over him. Jared wants to shut out the
rest of the world or make time stop or something, just so he can hold onto the
moment with Jensen. That feeling, it comes over him more and more often and…it
scares the shit out of him.
Today he slants a glance sideways when Jensen sits down, taking in the way his
dark, calf-length pea coat makes him look so adult, especially compared to
Jared and his puffy zip-up jacket that’s not quite long enough at the wrists.
Jensen’s wearing a fringed scarf, for fuck’s sake, intricately draped around
his neck, and yet he manages to make it look classy rather than affected. Jared
wonders what other things Jensen could do with that scarf, if he’s so clever
with knots, and feels himself start to blush.
Trying to keep his thoughts from straying into dangerous territory, Jared
blurts out, “Do they ever make us do things we think are wrong? You know, on
assignment?”
Jensen turns to him, one eyebrow raised in a where did this come from kind of
way, but then replies, “No. Not really. Students like us are briefed on
missions by professors, but later on, when we’re agents, we’ll report to people
higher up in the Hierarchy. They give you as many facts as they can, but they
never force you to take the assignment. At least I’ve never heard of such a
thing.” He shrugs. “Coercion doesn’t seem like a very effective approach if you
actually want a job done.”
Jared looks off toward the administrative buildings huddled at the far end of
the campus. There’s quiet. After awhile he says, not turning his head, “What if
I’m never—if I never figure this out? What if they can’t use me?”
Jensen doesn’t leap in with his typical glib reassurances, and Jared doesn’t
know if it makes him feel better or worse: that Jensen’s taking him seriously
or that there’s no comfort to be had. He can feel the heat of Jensen’s gaze on
his cheek. The eventual answer is something that Jared rarely hears from
Jensen. “I don’t know, man.”
They stay sitting on the lawn, just a few feet separating them, until the sun
goes behind a bank of clouds, and they have to retreat inside.
 
***
 
It’s well into the new year when Jensen mentions to Jared how some of his
friends from the Upper-School get together to hang out Friday nights in the
copse of pines on the hill overlooking the south side of the campus. Jared
nods, always interested in gleaning every tidbit he can about Jensen’s life.
Jensen pauses, then says, “So?” and it dawns on Jared that today is Friday and
Jensen’s inviting him to go along later.
“Yeah. I’m there!” He can tell he’s got the stupidest grin on his face, and he
doesn’t even care. Jensen wants to take Jared to a party.
“I can see your tail wagging, mutt,” Jensen teases.
“Shut up,” Jared throws back. “Like you were ever invited to Upper-School
parties at my age.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been in demand since the day I set foot here. They
wouldn’t even consider throwing a party at this school without me.” And
although Jensen obviously thinks he’s being facetious, Jared’s confident that
this is way closer to the truth than not.
At ten that night he pushes open the front door of the dorm to find Jensen
waiting for him on the steps. “Ready?” Jensen asks, hopping to his feet and
brushing the dust from the seat of his pants. Yeah, that’s not distracting.
Jared clears his throat. “Definitely.” He’s bouncing on his toes, and when
Jensen laughs and throws an arm over his shoulder as they start off, Jared
thinks he might have to start running in circles just to burn off the excess
adrenaline.
Most of his excitement dims when they reach the top of the hill. He stops at
the edge of a clearing that’s humming with sound, only fifteen, twenty people
total. It’s hard to tell, but it feels to Jared like three times that. All
older kids, all made alien by the orange shadows thrown by the small bonfire
crackling in the center of a ring of light-colored stones. The smoke masks
everyone’s scents in a way that prickles the hair on the back of Jared’s neck;
he’d forgotten how badly he’s lost his feel for crowds.
Jensen claps him on the shoulder and prods him forward, “Come on. I want to
introduce you to my buddy, Danneel.”
But Jared pulls away gently, “I’ll be there in a minute.” Jensen tilts his head
with a concerned look, but Jared waves him off, taking a seat in obscurity on
top of a smooth-worn picnic table that provides an arm’s-length view.
It’s not that Jared doesn’t recognize most of the other kids: Julie and Lauren.
Aldis from the gym. A.J. and Travis. Cindy, who does yoga on the quad. That
weird dude, Misha, who’s a TA for Professor Fuller. Clusters of three and four,
people he knows by sight if not by name. And then there’s Matt, Sebastian, and
Richard.
Despite his semi-seclusion, they spot him and, together, saunter over.
“So, it’s Padalecki, isn’t it?” Matt hops up onto the picnic table next to
Jared, Richard and Sebastian straddling the benches down at the other end. He
slaps Jared jovially on the back and shoves a bottle into his hand. Jared’s not
wild about the taste of beer, but he takes a swig anyway. “You’re quite the
talk of the school.”
Jared doesn’t know what to say to that. He wishes he could see better in the
flickering light.
Richard scoots a little closer and chimes in, “I’ve heard you’re a mimic.”
“I’ve heard you’ve got a malfunction,” Sebastian says.
He doesn’t like where this is going, but he’s unsure what to do. He’s certainly
knows the reputation of these three: tough guys not quite at the top of the
school pecking order, but acting like they own the place. They like to hassle
lowerclassmen, and although Jared’s managed to avoid them so far, it looks like
bad luck has caught up with him again.
He doesn’t want a fight with Jensen’s friends, but they’re giving off some
really nasty vibes. It sucks because three-against-one is pretty crap odds.
Richard might be a little guy, but Sebastian and Matt both outweigh Jared who,
for all his height, still looks like a scarecrow-in-a-shirt despite regular
morning weights and cardio before class.
So Jared temporizes. “I guess you’ve heard right.” He takes another sip from
the bottle, trying not to make a face.
“Maybe we can help you out with that?” Matt lilts, leaning closer still.
“Seeing as how our bright boy Jensen— “ he laces the name with arsenic, “—
hasn’t been able to do you any good.”
Jared opens his mouth with some version of screw you ready to pop out when he
feels Matt start to shift into Alpha phase, right there in front of him. The
tang of his scent is harsher, heavier than his classmates’ or Jensen’s. Not
pack. Jared rears back, but Sebastian is suddenly behind him, Richard circling
around to box him in. And in the blink of an eye, they’re all fully Alpha,
forcing Jared to begin to turn, too.
“What the fuck?” Jared says, eyes darting over Richard’s shoulder in search of
support, but Jensen’s talking to a red-headed girl on the other side of the
fire and the picnic table is downwind, shadowed under the low limbs of a tree.
But then he reaches full-Alpha phase himself, and any thought he had of
conciliation or backing down is washed away in a powerful surge of hormones.
“Don’t mess with me, Matt.” Jared growls, standing up, jaw clenched against the
urge to bear his teeth.
“Come on, Jared.” Matt’s Alpha instincts transform his initial wheedling tone
into a challenge for dominance, “You’re just not trying hard enough.”
He jerks his chin at Sebastian, who smirks and flows into Omega between one
breath and the next. Jared flinches and gasps as a spasm of pain shoots through
him, wrenched in two directions and then three as the older guys crowd closer.
They’re all so strong.
He can feel his stomach torque, forcing bile up into the back of his throat. A
sharp chisel drives into the base of his skull and he cries out from between
gritted teeth, hoping and fearing the other upperclassmen won’t hear him. It’s
his worst fear: such public exposure of his abnormality. As the pain ramps up
and up, devastating, Jared almost hopes that it’s enough to kill him this time.
Useless, defective, unfit for society or school or even as a science
experiment. Better to be culled from the Pack.
He starts to shiver uncontrollably. Every sense gets abruptly sharper: the
sting of each pressure point where Matt grips his arm in belated alarm, the
acrid smoke coating his nose and throat, the moon so bright he has to squeeze
his eyes shut.
Abruptly, something inside him breaks, a ruptured dam exploding outward. Ice
slides along the branching tributaries of his nerves, cold beyond anything he
imagined feeling. Jensen’s voice calls to him. But then there’s merciful
silence.
 
***
 
Jared doesn’t know how he got back to his dorm room, but that’s where he
discovers himself when he’s jolted awake by determined knocking on the door. He
ignores it, curling up to listen to his heart beat thick and heavy in his
chest, until the school nurse calls out that she’s come to check on him.
Barefoot, but still in his tee and jeans from the night before, he lurches to
the door and opens up, allows her in to take his temperature and blood
pressure, even while assuring her that he’s fine in some terms that must’ve
satisfied.
He crawls back under the covers and sleeps for five more hours.
Eventually, he drags himself out of bed to study, even though his arms and legs
feel like they are made out of putty. He fishes a protein bar out of the drawer
and eats it in two bites while staring blankly at his desk’s oak surface. It’s
pocked with a patina of tiny scratches, the countless random impacts of books
and pencils and sharp-edged paraphernalia of the students assigned this room
before him. Jared wonders where all of them are now, whether any of them felt
as worthless as he does right now.
He boots up his desktop and heroically avoids looking at the six new emails
from Jensen sitting in his inbox.
Chemistry problem sets, then econ, then readings on encryption and surveillance
techniques. Jared knocks them out one by one, trying to lose himself in the
dispassionate rigor of those subjects. All the while the specter of his daily
shifting exercises looms over the process. The only thing it’s going to do is
remind him of his humiliation last night, how asinine he must’ve looked getting
toted down the hill, out cold, like a sleeping toddler being carried to bed. At
least it’s the weekend, not a day Jensen is scheduled to come.
When there’s no homework left to do but Shifting, he considers skipping it and
heading down to eat. But facing the other students in the cafeteria actually
sounds less appealing than practice, useless or not, so he slips from the desk
chair down to the floor to settle in the same cross-legged position he and
Jensen always use. Perfunctorily, he closes his eyes, dismisses the phantom
pain that lingers from the night before, and imagines undergoing the change
that Matt dragged him through, the subtle adjustments in physical
characteristics, brain chemistry, odor that shift him from Beta to Alpha.
All at once, he surges to his feet, staring down at his body in disbelief,
because, holy shit, he’s there. He spins around like a top, searching his
shoebox room as if some random Alpha will be standing there behind him,
unnoticed. But no. He’s all alone. And he’s truly shifted.
He closes his eyes, wills himself back to Beta phase. Then Omega. Then Alpha
again. Each time the chill churns in his guts and by the end he’s gasping,
woozy from the abrupt series of shifts and euphoric at the very notion that
this is finally, finally within his grasp. Collapsing down on the bed, he
laughs out loud.
Immediately he springs up again, flinging himself out the door and down four
flights of stairs.
He’s got to find Jensen.
He doesn’t search long before he’s rewarded with the sight of Jensen standing
out of the flow of dinner traffic near the first-floor lecture hall, talking to
a girl Jared doesn’t know. It looks like Jensen must have just come in from a
run; he’s dressed in sweats, his skin glistening and cheeks pink-flagged. Jared
stops dead in the middle of the hall and stares. Jensen is rubbing diffidently
at the back of his neck, smiling at something the girl said. But when she
places her hand casually on Jensen’s bicep, something in Jared rears up like a
cobra. A feeling of incredible rage like he’s never known seizes him, chokes
him, no you shouldn’t smile like that at anyone else and no Danneel, or whoever
you are, you don’t get to stand so close to him.
A low growl escapes his lips before he can stop it and Jensen must hear,
because he glances up at Jared in surprise. "Hey. Hey! Are you all right? Why
haven’t you—" Jensen breaks off, his brow furrowing as he scents the air.
“Jared?” He goes to step forward, but the girl’s still holding onto him and
Jensen hesitates.
The urge to launch forward and rip Jensen away from her hits Jared low and
hard, and he stands there silent, shuddering, trying to resist, to think beyond
the red haze that’s filling up his vision. Something’s wrong with him, he’s
losing his goddamn mind. Because all he wants is to shove Jensen down onto the
nearest flat surface, drag those loose sweats off his hips, and fuck him in
front of the entire student body. And just where in fucking hell is that coming
from? The room spins slightly as Jared whirls around, looking to escape before
he loses control of himself. People already think he's a freak, a deviant; he
doesn't need to prove it.
So Jared runs, dodging between bodies, ignoring angry exclamations from the
other students. He flings himself around the corner and into the empty
stairwell. The impact with the far wall drives dull rods of pain into his arms
as he stops his headlong rush, pressing his cheek to the rough brick,
struggling for breath. His cock is swollen and heavy between his legs,
thickening with each pump of blood through his veins.
He smells Jensen’s hurried approach before he sees him.
“Jared.” That voice. It rumbles through him like he’s a hollow drum. He can
picture Jensen standing there behind him, hands up unthreateningly, as if he’s
soothing some wild animal, a dog gone rabid.
“Go away,” he spits.
“No, you’re in Heat. You’re an Alpha and you’re in Heat and I don’t know what’s
happening, but you need to let me help you.”
As soon as Jensen says it, Jared recognizes the frantic turmoil of Heat from
that first transformation back at home. Recognizes what some of his classmates
struggled with in those first early days before learning control. Remembers. In
his room. He’d shifted, and didn’t shift back to Beta. Never before had he
needed to pay attention to what phase he was in; it’s always been automatic.
But knowing doesn’t help. Jared is like a coiled spring, squeezed down tight
upon itself and waiting for the instant the pressure lets up. He wants Jensen,
needs him, but not like this, with this burning, uncontainable ferocity that
threatens to overwhelm the last sane thought remaining in his head. “I said, go
away. Don’t look at me. I can’t— Jensen—“
That last comes out as a whisper, because Jensen steps closer, and Jared swears
he can hear Jensen’s heartbeat pounding loud inside his chest, feel the luster
of his body heat, but most of all he can smell Jensen’s spicy scent.
Intermingled with it is a strange scent: that girl’s.
With a roar of dominance, Jared turns and surges forward with a certainty he’s
never felt before in his life. He yanks and twists so Jensen’s back hits the
wall, and the force is enough to make Jensen gasp, the sound ringing through
Jared’s head like shattered glass.
"Dude!" Jensen’s hand shoving back against his chest burns him. "Jared, what
are you—"
Jared doesn’t think, doesn’t stop, just licks at Jensen’s mouth, enjoying the
hiss of reaction before he scrapes his teeth against the his jaw, clutching the
short strands of Jensen’s hair and forcing him to show his neck as he nips the
sensitive skin hard enough to leave marks. He’s so hot, so hungry, so he swipes
his tongue back up the strong column of Jensen’s neck, tasting salt and musk,
his chin rubbing across the collar bone, lapping against the beating pulse
point at the jugular. This is mine, he thinks blurrily, or maybe he says it out
loud.
Jensen stops pushing on his chest and reaches up for Jared’s face, but instead
of thrusting him away, he hauls Jared into a kiss. It's open-mouthed and
desperate, sloppy, all teeth and slick tongue, and Jared is pretty sure he is
doing it wrong, except for how Jensen’s making these tiny whines in the back of
his throat that sound a lot like pleasure, not disappointment.
Jared bites down on his bottom lip hard enough to send a jolt through Jensen
that Jared can feel. Jared’s more afire than ever, but the violence of bite,
and Jensen’s pain, brings him back to himself for a moment. He licks his lips
to chase the flavor of Jensen’s mouth, even as he stumbles away, which may just
be the hardest thing he’s ever done.
He starts babbling, “I’m sorry. So sorry. God, you must think I’m insane. I’m
just going to go back to my room and I’ll—I’ll let this wear off. And we can
just pretend—“
Jensen barks out a laugh, his eyes sparkling and fond, and grabs Jared’s wrist,
forestalling further retreat. “You’re a moron, you know that?” Jensen says, and
steps agonizingly closer. “Don’t you know that I’ve wanted this since the first
day you arrived on campus? I even volunteered myself to be assigned as your
tutor so I could spend time with you, get to know you. And then I did, and now
you’re all I think about.” He shifts his grip to Jared’s elbows and hauls him
closer so that they’re chest to chest. “Goddamnit, I tried so hard to just be
your friend, shield you, not complicate things, but you’re nothing if not …”
Jensen’s reaches up and cups Jared’s cheek “…complicated.”
“Jensen,” Jared says, trying to wrap his mind around it, shock and hunger and
heat all warring within him.
“Now, are you going to let me help you with this?” And on the last word, he
tilts his hips up so that the searing, undeniable bulge in Jared’s jeans
presses into Jensen’s belly.
Jared thinks that if he opens his mouth to speak, he might scream or burst into
tears or tear Jensen’s clothes off with his fucking teeth. So he simply gives a
sharp nod.
Jensen lets out a relieved huff of breath, as if he’d been doubting Jared’s
answer. "My room," he chokes. "I think my room would be a good idea right now."
Jared just turns and pulls Jensen up the stairs to the second floor. He doesn’t
even remember how they get to Jensen’s dorm room, only knows he does it without
ever letting go of Jensen’s wrist. Jared’s only been inside once or twice, but
he barely gives it a glance before yanking Jensen’s arm, sending him sprawling
onto his bed. At least it’s a double, pillows and blankets neatly arranged, not
the narrow twin Jared has up in his room.
Jensen laughs as he bounces on the mattress. “I think I like this side of you!”
Then he leans back on his elbows, slow like he’s putting himself on display,
and murmurs soft and dirty like Jared only imagined he could sound, “So, how do
you want me? Beta or Omega?”
There’s no question. “Omega,” Jared demands. Jared knows that Alphas and Betas
have casual sex all the time, but that’s not what he’s craving. He realizes he
doesn’t just want to fuck Jensen, he wants shove his knot inside him, to tie
them together, to breed him.
“Yeah,” Jensen breathes, and in the moment it takes him to slip his shirt over
his head, he shifts. Jensen’s bowed legs become more pronounced, his eyes
bigger, more liquid. The flesh on his nape and shoulders is so smooth and
creamy it almost glows, and his lips are swollen as if Jared had been sucking
on them for hours. The tiny bites Jared inflicted in the stairwell parade in a
vivid red line down Jensen’s neck.
And, good god, he reeks. Jared practically swims in the rich scents of stale
sweat lingering from Jensen’s run, and of Jensen’s lust, of Jensen’s eagerness.
Jared doesn’t hesitate, tears off his own shirt, fumbling with the button on
his jeans until he can rip them open, thrust them down. He kicks them away, his
dick slapping wet and stiff against his belly as he advances toward the bed.
Jensen moans, then swears under his breath and begs, “Please, Jared, just… come
here, let me—“ He sits up, swinging his legs open so that he can pull Jared in
close, warm hands gripping the bare skin on Jared’s sides to hold him standing
still, his mouth level with Jared’s crotch and he licks at the trace of
moisture coating the tip of Jared’s cock before drawing the head into his
mouth.
Jared cries out, can feel his ribs spread beneath Jensen’s palms when he arches
back reflexively, sliding deeper in. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before,
this tight, wet heat encompassing him. He shudders, legs nearly buckling, hands
scrabbling for purchase and burying themselves in Jensen’s short hair as he
bobs up and down on Jared’s cock. Jensen hums approvingly when Jared’s fingers
grip his scalp and Jared whines at the vibrations it sends through him, finally
peeling his eyes open when Jensen pushes his hands off and falls back onto the
bed sheets, panting.
He licks his glistening lips obscenely. “Ready when you are, Alpha,” Jensen
says, trying to make it sound light-hearted, but it rings in Jared’s ears like
a challenge.
He plants himself at the end of the bed, leaning forward to hook his fingers
into the waistband of Jensen’s soft sweats, wrenching them down his legs, and
tossing them in the direction of the floor. And oh fuck, they're both naked.
He’s nearly in a frenzy now, this devastating, consuming need to possess Jensen
completely that makes him nuzzle hungrily at the pale, toned stomach bared to
him, working his way up Jensen’s body to nip repeatedly at one taut nipple, to
nose deep into the soft hair of Jensen’s armpit, to worry the thin skin behind
his ear.
He’s so engrossed in exploring Jensen’s body, he hardly notices the desperate
noises, cries and pleas Jensen makes in response until he’s heaving Jared off
and rolling over onto his belly, rucking his knees up under him so that his ass
thrusts high off the bed.
“Now. Please. Jared.” Each word is a harsh gasp and it fans Jared’s flame even
higher to see Jensen so needy, so ungoverned. Jared knows all Shifters (well,
all functioning ones) learn to control their reactions to Heat—it’s one of the
extraordinary abilities that make them so valuable as agents—and yet here, now
Jensen has thrown off his defenses, sinking himself as deep into sensation as
Jared.
At any other time, the thought of sex with Jensen would have Jared hesitating,
second-guessing, embarrassed in the face of utter inexperience. But not now,
not with the Alpha Heat riding him, spurring him on, the blood pulsing swift
beneath the thin barrier of his skin. Jared doesn’t even wonder or doubt what
to do, instinctively slides between Jensen’s thighs, kneeing them apart to open
him up wider.
He grips the cheeks of Jensen's ass, kneads with his palms and spreads with his
fingers, revealing the tight furl of Jensen’s entrance already wet with an
Omega’s natural lubrication, skin all around it glossy with sloppy-slick. The
tide of urgent ache in his gut surges higher at the sight, and he slides the
thumb of his left hand across it, playing around the rim, then tugging it open
to push two fingers easily inside, curling them, he adds a third, small strokes
in and out.
Jensen keens so loud they can probably hear him on the quad, hips twitching and
rolling, trying to heave backward, shove Jared’s fingers deeper. “In me. Need
you in me, Jared, fuck. Hurry.”
Jared looks down, for the first time discovers the large knot at the base of
his dick just starting to swell. He can’t wait anymore, not for what he wants—
what they both want— him buried inside Jensen, tying them together. His fingers
slip from Jensen’s body as Jared scoots closer, fitting his thighs up against
the back of Jensen’s, aligning his cock so that it presses against Jensen’s
opening, and plunges in.
Jensen gives easily around the head of Jared's cock, he's so fucking wet
inside. Jared groans and thrusts in a little farther, and then again, and
again, watching Jensen's whole body writhe, feeling the heated clench of
Jensen’s channel along his entire length. But he needs to get still closer,
plant himself deep, deep inside. He leans down to lick at the fresh sweat
that’s broken out between Jensen’s shoulder blades, and then stretches farther
to sink his teeth into the tender nape of Jensen’ neck. Jensen hisses, arches,
dropping his head in submission as Jared bears him down into the mattress,
pinning him. Jared’s knot is a swollen, solid pressure, rolling and expanding
inside Jensen’s slick hole, plugging him up.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Jensen’s tossing his head now, grinding almost painfully
back into Jared’s hips. Jared growls against his skin through clenched teeth;
his thrusts grow quicker, ragged and shallow now as he ties them together, his
entire core glowing with the heat of the stream of precome he can feel flowing
into Jensen.
At some point he’d trapped Jensen’s hands under his own, forced them down into
the bed with their fingers hard entwined, but now he releases one hand, reaches
underneath their joined bodies to grope for Jensen’s cock, taking the rigid
length in hand, dying to feel Jensen’s release.
He strokes, Jensen jerks, his jaw tightens its hold on Jensen’s neck. Tomorrow
welts will rise just below Jensen's hairline, a brand of Jared’s for the world
to see.
So hot— so fucking hot— Jared thinks his brain is melting. His cock locked
inside Jensen, his hand moving faster, twisting over the wet head of Jensen’s
dick. He can't think anymore, and he's barely aware of Jensen moaning, "oh,
oh," and spurting thick and messy all over Jared’s palm and contracting around
him and, that… it's… more than he can take. Jared comes, erupting, shooting so
much, so hard, his body temperature soaring up, that he thinks he might be
cooked alive.
Shocks of pleasure roll through him: spine, shoulders, fingers, toes. Time
stands still and he comes and keeps coming, like a river rushing off the edge
of the map. Then Jensen’s face swivels around, searching, and Jared wrenches
his mouth from the grooves he’s sunk into Jensen’s nape to capture his mouth,
licking and sucking and tasting the distilled residue of Heat like syrup and
cinnamon.
They keep kissing until the tremors stop, and Jared finally pulls away a
little, taking a few gulps of air, breath hitched and shaky. Inside Jensen,
he’s still pulsing in gentle spurts that feel like the marrow is flowing out of
his bones.
“We’re gonna be here awhile,” Jensen says at last, drained and raw.
“Yeah, I—I guess I knew that. Sorry?” His head clears a bit, and Jared
tentatively touches his tongue to the angry bite mark on the back of Jensen’s
nape, a tiny soothing lick.
“Naw.” Jensen wriggles his hips slightly back into Jared’s, testing where
they’re tied together, still panting shallowly himself. He reaches around and
grabs Jared’s wrist, tugging his hand in a slow drag up the taut, damp skin of
Jensen’s belly, chest, all the way to his mouth. He sucks at Jared’s fingers,
licks at the pads, the meaty heel of his hand. “You know, you can make me come
again while we wait. Maybe twice more—” there was a smirk in Jensen’s voice as
it dipped low and filthy, “—if you’re good.”
It makes Jared moan with pleasure, his cock twitching with another spurt of
come inside of Jensen, still filling him with so much that without Jared’s knot
holding it in there would be hot trails of it making their way down between
their pressed-together thighs, puddling underneath them on the bed. “Show me
how.”
**
He wakes up Beta again, a grayish hint of morning light sneaking through
Jensen’s half-closed blinds. He opens his eyes to the sight of Jensen, also
Beta, still stretched out beside him on the bed, propped up on one elbow,
gazing down at him. That might sound creepy, but there’s something so tender
about the look in Jensen’s eyes that it has Jared wriggling down into the
covers in a surge of unexpected joy.
“Can you still shift?” Jensen asks abruptly.
Jared pauses, then reaches down into himself and changes phase, Alpha to Omega,
then back to Beta with a bright grin. It doesn’t even make him dizzy or strange
this time, easy as pie.
But Jensen doesn’t smile back, just runs his hand through his sleep-messy hair,
looking at a spot over Jared’s shoulder. “So,” he says, finally, “I guess
you’re not going to need a tutor anymore?”
Jared’s heart clenches. “What? No! I’m almost a whole year behind on this
shifting thing. I need someone to help me catch up.”
“Oh,” Jensen replies. But that’s all.
“Unless—“ Jared’s so stupid. Jensen must be regretting this… this thing between
them already. He’s probably looking for a way to let Jared down easily.
“Unless, you don’t have time, or…” Jared trails off, not even sure where he was
going with that, trying to scoot over closer to the bed’s edge so that there’s
no danger of him touching Jensen. So stupid.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” And Jared catches the inside of his cheek between
his teeth, bracing himself, because here it comes. “I took advantage of you
last night. I have no excuse, and I’m sick over it.” Jensen squares his
shoulders and looks straight at Jared, miserable, strain evident in the corners
of his eyes. “You needed help—and I— I— “ Jared’s pretty sure he’s never seen
Jensen at a loss for words and it nearly breaks his heart. Especially because
his guilt is so misplaced.
“Jensen. Stop.” Jared leans up, puts a hand over his mouth, then moves it so he
can kiss him, gently this time, so different from last night, and Jensen lets
him. They aren’t even really kissing, just touching their mouths together.
Jensen has soft lips, they’re perfect, really, but Jared masters the desire to
go on kissing them forever. He says, “You don’t have anything to apologize for.
Heat or no Heat, all I want, all I’ve wanted since we met, is to be with you.”
He’s reminded of what Jensen said in the stairwell and smirks. “Who’s the moron
now?”
Jensen leans back. “Oh, pup,” he says ruefully, and by the way the nickname
rolls off his tongue, Jared can tell he’s on the verge of giving in.
“Besides,” Jared says, looking up at Jensen through his bangs and slyly
slipping into Omega phase, “Do you really want someone else helping me practice
my shifting exercises?”
He laughs as the world tips and rolls and there’s an Alpha on top of him, knees
boxing his hips, hands on his shoulders. “No one else but me,” Jensen snarls,
but he’s laughing too, grip moving to Jared’s hair so he can angle his mouth
for another kiss. They are both gross, tacky with dried come and sleep, the
sheets a disaster, but Jared doesn’t care. He’s ready to go again, beginning to
feel the differences of Heat as an Omega, melting boneless under Jensen into
the bed.
“I have so much to teach you,” Jensen says.
“Everything. Give me everything you’ve got.”
Maybe the Academy isn’t so bad after all.
End Notes
     Written for juice817 for the Fall Fandom Free-For-All, where she
     asked for either high school AU, spies AU, or knotting fic. I
     figured, hey, why not write all three?
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
