
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11427795.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural_RPF
  Relationship:
      Jensen_Ackles/Jared_Padalecki, Jensen_Ackles/Other(s)
  Character:
      Jeffrey_Dean_Morgan, Danneel_Harris
  Additional Tags:
      Sexual_situations_with_minors, Nothing_explicit_before_13, Jared_is_a
      precocious_sociopath, Bottom_Jensen, Implication_of_Violence, Also_actual
      violence, Toxic_Relationships, Dark_Stuff, Rough_Sex, Serial_Killers, 30k
      of_mostly_porn
  Collections:
      Supernatural_and_J2_Big_Bang_2017
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-07 Chapters: 4/4 Words: 32036
****** Swallowing Matches ******
by sleepypercy
Summary
     Jared's a budding serial killer and Jensen's the boy next door who
     sometimes babysits. They've always been obsessed with each other, and
     Jared's always been able to get Jensen to do anything he wants.
     The problem is, Jared gets jealous. And when Jensen hits high school,
     Jared's not the only one who notices how pretty the boy is.
Notes
     Written for the 2017_SPN_J2_BigBang Thanks so much to Wendy for
     beautifully running this challenge every year. And I owe so much
     thanks to my friends, cheerleaders, and betas skeletncloset, TheBoys,
     and Bad_Bastion.
     Also, so much love to Emma, my artist. She made me some wonderful_art
     that you should check out!
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
“Pick one.”
The request sounds casual, tossed out like Jared’s asking Jensen to choose an
outfit or a puppy or an ice cream flavor. Jensen, however, knows enough to be
wary of the carefully neutral expression on Jared’s face, and he feels
something drop low in his stomach, hard and grooved like a peach pit.
They’re on the second highest row of bleachers, high above the track field
where soccer players are running laps and cheerleaders are practicing kicks and
formations. It’s a perfect day; the sun glinting off of Jared’s pink, heart-
shaped sunglasses and warm enough to threaten to multiply all the freckles
scattering across Jensen’s nose. Jared’s got his lighter on him and he’s
opening and closing the metal top to start and stop the tiny flame.
The tiny metal pings suddenly stop and Jared reaches over to squeeze Jensen’s
knee with fingers that know what the inside of Jensen feels like. Jensen’s
pointedly trying not to look, but Jared’s fingers pinch, hard, because there’s
nothing Jared loves as much as making new bruises on Jensen. Jensen’s not
entirely sure what choice he’s making, but he knows he doesn’t want to make it.
But when Jared’s hand slides higher, Jensen sucks in a sharp breath, glancing
up for a moment, eyes caught by a movement before he can help himself.
Dimples pop out in full force, expression so pleased and happy that Jensen
almost ignores the ominous feeling sliding up his spine, ice-cold and sharp.
Almost.
“Didn’t know you liked redheads,” Jared comments, glancing down to where the
curvy cheerleader is spread on the ground, legs out and back bowed forward in a
deep stretch.
Guilt churns deep in Jensen’s stomach and he slumps down. “Don’t,” he whispers.
Jared’s smile widens. “Don’t what?”
A flush spreads up Jensen’s face, and he shakes his head, unable to answer.
Amused, Jared pulls off his sunglasses and puts them on Jensen. He leans in
close and Jensen’s heart starts pounding hard and fast. “Wait for me under the
bleachers,” Jared says as his fingers go back to tracing circles around
Jensen’s knee. “Want you to suck me off while you’re wearing these, staring up
at me with pink heart eyes and spunk lipstick.”
Jensen would be lying if he said those words didn’t make a thrill zing up his
spine.
Ten minutes later, he’s down on his knees under the bleachers, dirt and old
burger wrappers underneath his knees while Jared uses his mouth hard, Jared’s
fingers hooked in the corner of Jensen’s mouth.
“Fuck, fuck, yes,” Jared grunts out quietly as he empties down Jensen’s throat,
fingers around his neck. “So fucking good for me.” His mouth quickly finds
Jensen’s when he’s done, and they roll around the filthy cement, making out
until Jared sits back against a metal column and lets Jensen suck him off
again, nestling Jensen’s body between his thighs.
                                        
[Matches]
                                  ~THEN~ 6, 3
Jensen grew up next to Jared, their families intermingling since the day the
Padaleckis moved in next door when Jared was just a toddler.
It was just Jared and his father, Mr. Padalecki had explained to Jensen’s
mother after they’d chatted a few times from across their driveways. Jared’s
mother had died shortly before they’d moved, a burglary gone wrong, and Jared
wasn’t taking it very well. He hadn’t spoken since losing his mother, and he
threw temper tantrums nearly every day.
Mr. Padalecki had hired a nanny to help out, although he was having trouble
retaining help. Jared was uncontrollable and wild, didn’t give a damn about
authority even at three years old, and had a tendency to wander off. More often
than not, his current nanny would turn around to find the toddler missing, and
after pillaging through every room in a panic, she’d finally run next door to
find Jared in Jensen’s room, decorating Jensen’s blonde little head with sticks
and wild dandelions.
Jensen was his pet, his project, his obsession from the beginning.
No amount of yelling or time-outs or gentle explanation could ever turn Jared
repentant. The only thing that could ever pierce through his unfazed
indifference was the threat of separating him from Jensen, which led the boy to
shriek and rage until his face was red and angry tears were streaming down his
face.
Eventually, one of the nannies learned to stop fighting it and let Jared wander
over to Jensen’s house as often as he liked.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~NOW~ 17, 14
Jensen never really forgets about the choice he made, although Jared doesn’t
say anything for weeks. Not until they’re sitting at the kitchen table
together, homework in front of them while Jared’s housekeeper putters around
them, juggling laundry and dinner. Jared’s dad is behind them in the living
room, hockey game on TV.
Grinning, Jared slips a note over to Jensen, tucking the torn piece of paper
underneath Jensen’s science textbook while Olivia sprays a lasagna pan behind
them. He watches carefully while Jensen plucks it out, opening up the paper to
find a crudely-drawn pencil sketch of a gigantic, erect penis. Jensen’s face
heats up as he quickly shuts the note, tucking it in his pocket and looking
behind him to make sure the neither Mr. Padalecki nor the housekeeper had seen.
Thankfully, she’s too busy mixing together tomato paste and herbs to notice
Jensen’s sudden anxiety, and Jared’s dad has never given the boys too much
interest anyway.
“Got a present for you,” Jared whispers, and Jensen swallows deeply, wondering
if the image in his pocket is some kind of premonition. Smirking, Jared adds,
“It’s upstairs. On my bed.”
They leave their school things on the table while Jared leads Jensen up the
stairs, sure feet padding around wooden creaks that they’d both memorized years
ago.
As soon as Jared shoves open the door, Jensen’s attention zeros in on a
cheerleader outfit spread out on the bed, skirt fluffed out and crop top
smoothed against the comforter. Jensen can’t breathe for a moment, memory
bubbling to the surface, and he jerks his head towards Jared, wondering if this
is some kind of a joke.
“Got it just for you,” Jared says, amusement in his eyes as he nods towards the
blue-and-silver cheer outfit. Then, softer, “Try it on.”
“Why?” It slips out before Jensen thinks about it, and Jared quirks an eyebrow
up, expression cool.
“Because I want you to.”
Hesitantly, Jensen starts to strip down, and Jared’s approving eyes on him keep
him going as he peels off his shirt and pants. Somehow, Jared had even gotten a
pair of spankies to go with the uniform, a blue-and-black pair of briefs with
gold stripes across the sides. He slides the soft skirt up his thighs and
pushes his arms through the thick straps of the top, he has to admit that the
material feels nice. There’s a bare stretch of midriff from a cut-out part of
the uniform, and he crosses his arms over his exposed mid-section.
“Don’t hide from me,” Jared chides, fingers cool across the curve of Jensen’s
tummy while Jensen holds his breath and tries not to give in to the ticklish
sensation. Pressing his body closer, Jared crowds Jensen until he falls back on
the bed, skirt fluttering as Jensen bounces on the mattress. Jared climbs on
top, slotting their mouths together, hard as ever, like he wants to tear a hole
through Jensen and crawl inside. Jensen wants this - God, he’s wanted it for
years - although he’s overwhelmed every time. Jared’s thumbs bruise polka dots
into Jensen’s biceps and his teeth mark indents into Jensen’s neck. Part of
Jensen imagines Jared tearing into his throat, and he almost wants that,
imagining his blood, warm and fresh, dripping from the edges of Jared’s mouth.
When Jared’s hand creeps up Jensen’s skirt, rubbing hard against Jensen’s
erection, Jensen throws his head back, breathing deep and staring sightlessly
at the ceiling while mumbling Jared’s name.
“Think I could make you dirty your briefs before we get called down for
dinner?” Jared gropes his fingers around the shape of Jensen’s cock through
black cotton. Sliding back on the bed, Jared bends down to gets his mouth all
over Jensen’s exposed stomach, sucking in skin and working hard to leave
hickeys across the pale curve. “Love your belly,” Jared says around Jensen’s
belly button. “So soft and smooth. Wanna rub my cock all over it, cover you in
come, make you go to school wearing this, my spunk dried all over your
stomach.”
At the moment, Jensen would agree to almost anything as long as Jared kept
touching him. But suddenly Jared slips off the bed, teeth and dimples flashing
at Jensen. “Not today, though.” He looks meaningfully at Jensen’s cock jutting
up from underneath his skirt. Grinning, he walks back towards the door,
obviously taking pleasure in Jensen’s discomfort. “Don’t be late to dinner,” he
warns just before he closes the door.
Dark shame washes over Jensen as he reaches up the skirt and under his briefs,
quickly jerking himself off, spread out on Jared’s bed and desperate as a dime
bag slut as he whimpers and spills into his hand. Because Jared deserves it,
Jensen wipes his hand clean on Jared’s bed, streaks of white spunk left near
the top of the bed where Jared won’t be able to miss it.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~THEN~ 10, 7
When Jensen turned ten, Mr. Padalecki started officially asking him to babysit
– Jared had already gone through more nannies and babysitters than Jensen could
count, chasing them all off with tantrums and sadistic pranks, setting one poor
woman’s hair on fire, making one after another quit when they all refused to
let him see Jensen every minute of every day.
So Mr. Padalecki decided to stop trying to keep them apart, and he started
paying Jensen for hanging out with his son.
Jared is three years his junior, although sometimes Jensen felt younger than
the kid, especially when he walked into the house and Jared fixed him with an
amused smirk, gold-and-green eyes sparkling and contemplative, like he knew
that Jensen could never really stop him from doing whatever he wanted.
Shortly after getting hired, Jensen came over one day to find Jared watching a
small pile of stuffed animals go up in flames, soaked in whatever accelerant
Jared could find in the garage.
Jensen considers it a win since Jared also wanted to sacrifice the family’s pet
guinea pig, and Jensen only just managed to get through to Jared how suspicious
it would look if Mr. Gordo disappeared while they were alone in the house.
When the flames died down, Jared handed Jensen a shovel. Jensen didn’t even
question it, just dug a hole to bury the charred remains in while Jared
silently watched, fingertips singed with burns that looked like grey bruises.
It was only about a year later when Mr. Gordo’s bill came due. Jensen held the
tiny body in his hands, golden fur covered by a towel. There were dots of blood
soaked through the cotton, and Jensen very carefully ignored the dried red
flakes underneath Jared’s fingernails.
They buried the little guy in the same spot as the charred toys, and that spot
turned into something private and special between them, something that spurred
a knowing look whenever their families were in the backyard, hands holding
paper plates soaked with potato salad oil and bratwurst grease. Jared’s tiny
dimples creased into his cheeks as he grinned at Jensen and looked at the mound
of disturbed earth beneath the maple tree where a secret lay buried that only
they knew about.
Jensen’s not sure why he never told anyone. He just knew that when Jared smiled
at him like that, something dark and warm lighted him from the inside, making
him forget about how isolated and lonely he felt, and he never wanted to give
that up.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~NOW~ 17, 14
The chair is warm when Jensen lies back. He wonders how busy the shop’s been
today, how long ago someone had sat in the same chair, skin exposed while a
needle drove just under the surface.
Jared is excited beyond words. His eyes dart around the room, entranced by the
metal-shine of tools. In his hands is a drawing that Jensen hasn’t been allowed
to look at despite the fact that its contents are to be replicated on Jensen’s
upper arm.
After checking his needles and other instruments, the tattoo artist takes the
paper, quirking an eyebrow up at Jensen after unfolding it.
“You sure about this?”
“Yeah,” Jensen replies, not even looking at the man. “Do it.”
Jared beams and leans down to kiss Jensen quick and hard on the mouth. The guy
doesn’t say anything – hadn’t said anything either about both boys being
obviously underage, just took Jared’s payment and offered Jensen a chair.
The first prick of the needle makes Jensen wince, but the fuzzy edge of alcohol
in his system dulls the sting a bit. It’s also not the first time he’s been
stuck with needles. Not after Jared went through a phase in sixth grade.
They take a short break after the first hour, Jensen sucking in sharp sounds
because his arm is really starting to throb. He’d expected Jared to get off on
Jensen’s pain – because he always did – but Jared is being… gentle. He brushed
Jensen’s hair back during the first half of it, murmuring soothing things about
how well Jensen was doing, how fucking beautiful he looked like this, how much
Jared wants to mark every inch of Jensen.
It’s unexpected, and Jensen’s first instinct is to reject the softness and jerk
away. But the needle’s sharp prick helps to even it out, leveling Jensen enough
that he just closes his eyes and lets the physical and emotional sensations mix
together.
He waits until it’s done to look. Jared’s smirking at him while the tattoo
artist goes to grab a mirror, and Jensen can feel his stomach start to
somersault. He knows that look. It’s the look Jared wears whenever he gets it
into his head to fuck with Jensen, to make Jensen do things knowing that the
older boy will never say ‘no.’
When the tattoo guy comes back with a mirror and holds it up, it takes a moment
for Jensen to finally turn his eyes and look.
Across his bicep is a pink ribbon bow – tied snug and thick just like
cheerleaders wear in their hair – and a blue and black pom behind it, open and
wide like a starburst. Jensen’s slightly horrified, and Jared grins at his
gaped mouth.
Of course Jensen remembers the uniform. Jared had brought it over to Jensen’s
house and hung it in his closet. That same week, the red-headed cheerleader
went missing, posters up around town and police officers pulling out the girl’s
friends and fellow cheerleaders during class to ask questions. Nobody knew
where she went, nobody had seen her, and as far as Jensen knew, no trace of her
had been found.
As soon as they’re out of the tattoo parlor, Jared drags Jensen into the
alleyway behind it and shoves Jensen against the wall while biting up his neck.
“Drove me crazy watching you take it so good like that,” Jared slurs between
his teeth, praising and happy, and Jensen can’t help drinking in that praise,
letting it fill up the hollow part of his chest. “Letting me mark you all up.
Taking it all for me. Fuck, fuck, so good.” His fingers prod into Jensen’s
bandage until Jensen gives a little yelp that Jared swallows up. Jared’s
fingers wander down, teasing the edge of Jensen’s jeans, and Jensen’s pulse
quickens when Jared slips his hand down.
The first touch of Jared’s hand on his dick makes Jensen whimper – an
embarrassing, high sound – and Jared suddenly falls to his knees, shoving
Jensen’s jeans down into the wet, greasy asphalt.
“Oh god,” Jensen chokes out when Jared’s mouth surrounds his dick. His hands
fly back, steadying himself against scraping brick, face tipped up to look at
blurry stars above the dark alleyway. Jared’s large hands are wrapped around
each of Jensen’s thighs, holding him in place while Jensen tries not to thrash.
He’s so close, dick hard in Jared’s throat, orgasm on the precipice, when the
side door opens and the guy whose handiwork is still fresh on Jensen’s arm
walks out, pre-lit cigarette in hand.
He raises an eyebrow, expression neutral. Jared’s unconcerned, cheeks hollowed
out to suck harder. Dirty, wet sounds echo around the alley, and the guy leans
against the doorframe, watching and smoking. Jensen’s hands fly down to touch
Jared’s head, fluttering nervously and trying to make the decision to either
push Jared away and hide or finish what he’s so close to finishing. The
decision is suddenly taken from him when he feels a spit-wet finger slipping
beyond his cock. It rides the ridge underneath, teasing and testing, until it
nudges right against his asshole. Jensen holds his breath, doesn’t know how to
process this, dick already bursting, when Jared’s finger pushes inside the
pucker about half a centimeter, just enough for Jensen to feel the slutty give
of his own hole, just enough for Jensen to know that he wants more.
With a half-sob, half-grunt, Jensen comes hard, eyes squeezed shut until he
sees oil-puddle rainbows swirling behind his eyes, and he feels Jared sucking
down every last drop.
He’s on the ground, still panting, when he hears the back door clicking shut
and opens his eyes to see Jared’s smirking face.
Jensen starts babbling about how he wants Jared inside, wants to feel Jared
fucking him, wants everything, pleasepleaseplease. But he knows Jared won’t do
it. It’s not the first time Jensen’s wanted Jared to fuck him, and it’s not the
first time Jared has refused to do all but that.
                                  [Matches] 
                                  ~THEN~ 8, 6
For the first five years of his life, Jared spoke very little, just observed
the world around him and picked up speech and reading patterns so quickly and
efficiently that his teachers and parents had been dizzy with excitement. The
school officials encouraged his parents to enroll him in specialty schools and
accelerated programs, certain that they had a genius on their hands.
Jared, however, didn’t want any of that. He stubbornly refused to participate
in any tests or exams to prove his intelligence, and since he was uncooperative
in all attempts to convince him otherwise, he remained a firm underachiever in
the Austin Public Schools District #15.
As soon as Jared learned to write his name, he practiced by writing on Jensen,
first his arms then legs then straight across his face (his nanny at the time
had scolded him for that, giving him a time out in his room until Jared
literally kicked a hole through his door). For three months, there was barely a
space on Jensen’s body that didn’t have Jared’s name on it.
Jensen wasn’t sure if he liked it, but he never fought Jared on it, not even
when Jared insisted on pulling down Jensen’s shorts and messily scribbling it
right across Jensen’s ass.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~NOW~ 17, 14
Jensen’s father has never been particularly interested in him. Jensen knows
that it’s his fault, that he’s not aggressive or charismatic or social enough
to earn the man’s respect and attention. He can see the criticism in his
father’s eyes when he’s home long enough to ask Jensen about sports or friends,
eyes hard and demanding and never satisfied. Jensen’s overheard his father
complain to his mother, accusing her of not looking out for Jensen, for
coddling him too much, for not instilling a deeper sense of competitiveness or
drive.
Thankfully, the man is rarely home. He travels more than seems necessary, often
crashing in hotel rooms if his meetings take him further than an hour away from
home. Jensen prefers it, hating the knot in his stomach when he knows his dad
is in the house, unsure if something will set him off and he’ll wake up to find
black and purple blotches on his mother’s face again, sometimes cigarette burns
on her arms. Jensen tries to console his mother the day after, although she’s
usually too drunk and high and close to unconsciousness.
One the senior partners at Mr. Ackles’ company has a son who needs his dog
walked and fed while he’s out of town, and, sensing an opportunity to get his
foot in the door with the partners, Jensen’s father volunteers his own son for
the job.
 
Jensen shows up at the man’s porch as scheduled, uneasy and slightly resentful.
When the door opens, a large, tattooed man is holding back a barking and
jumping Rottweiler by the collar, trying to get her to calm down while smiling
over at Jensen.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” the man offers to Jensen, one large hand soothingly
stroking down the dog’s head. “She just gets excited about new people. She’s
really sweet, though, don’t let the bark fool you.” The dog strains against the
man’s grip just enough to push a wet nose against Jensen’s wrist, and Jensen
jumps at the cold sensation. The man chuckles. “You Jensen?”
“Yessir,” Jensen answers, reaching out a hand to rub down the side of the dog’s
wiggling body.
“Good. I’m Jeff and this is Bisou. Let me show you where everything is.”
It takes a few minutes for Bisou to calm down; she insists on following just
behind Jensen’s knees, bumping in the back of them whenever he stops walking.
Jeff keeps laughing fondly, calling her an attention slut and warning Jensen
that she’ll whine and beg for hours for pets no matter how much attention she
gets.
Jeff insists on making Jensen lunch, throwing together a caprese salad and pan-
grilled chicken and artichoke pizza that he’d had cooking before Jensen showed
up. Jensen tries to decline, but Jeff gently nudges Jensen into a chair,
placing a plate in front of him that smells too delicious for Jensen to
reasonably turn down.
Around the kitchen walls are pictures of different landscapes: beaches,
mountains, forests, all around the world. He catches Jensen looking and offers
up stories about the Black Forest of Germany and how blue the water of Côte
d'Azur really is.
“What about you, kid?” Jeff asks, smiling at Jensen and patting Bisou’s head.
“Anywhere you wanna go?”
To be honest, Jensen’s never really thought of being anywhere but here. He’s
quiet for a minute, thinking, while Jeff patiently sits back, chewing slowly
and giving Jensen time.
“I don’t know that I’ve ever thought about going to specific places,” Jensen
finally replies. “But I have wanted to go to things - I’ve always wanted to see
a World Series game and see Kaleo perform live. Maybe see the ocean. Any
ocean.”
“I knew you’d have a good answer,” Jeff answers with a grin. “You’re into the
journey. I’m with you, kid, I like to wander. You end up in way more
interesting places if you don’t make plans.” Jensen thinks he’s a bigger
attention slut than Bisou, and although he berates himself for it, he can’t
help feeling pleasure at this relative stranger’s approval.
Bisou comes over and lays her head down in Jensen’s lap, huffing and turning
big liquid eyes up to Jensen until he tentatively reaches down to pet her head.
“She can smell a sucker,” Jeff says with a wry laugh. “Don’t let her push you
around too much.”
“No sir,” Jensen replies, still petting her head.
Jeff finishes the tour after they put their plates in the dishwasher, showing
Jensen where Bisou’s food and water dishes are, then follows it up with a tour
of his house. It’s gigantic, even by their neighborhood’s standards, and either
Jeff or his designer have exquisite taste.
When they wander upstairs, Jeff walks Jensen briefly through his bedroom, and
Jensen lets his eyes roam across Jeff’s dresser. There are several pictures of
him with what are obviously much younger men, his arm slung around their
shoulders or mouth pressed against their cheeks.
Jensen tries to hide his blush, has no idea if he succeeds, but thankfully Jeff
walks them through to the back porch, smiling at Jensen as he asks if he likes
the view.
When they finally get back to the front door, Jeff claps his hand to Jensen’s
shoulder and asks him if he still wants the job.
“Yeah. I - yeah. I do.”
“Great!”
Jeff need someone to walk Bisou every Thursday and more during extended
business trips, so he and Jensen set up the feeding and walking schedule
details before he goes.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~THEN~ 10, 7
Jensen overheard his mother one day on the phone talking to Jared’s current
nanny about how Jared had cut off a little girl’s pigtail, and both women
speculated over whether or not it means that Jared likes the girl. Although
apparently she had been a couple years older, in the fourth grade.
Two feelings immediately sparked in Jensen’s belly. The first made him roll his
eyes, scoff at the archaic conclusion that secret crushes are the only things
that spur little boys into bad behavior towards little girls.
The second feeling made Jensen feel more worried and sick, although he didn’t
know why. But he was uneasy with the thought of Jared trying to impress a girl,
even though it was natural that Jared should have other friends.
Jared got detention for a week, which Jensen learned about when the boy snuck
into Jensen’s room and surprised him while he was doing his homework.
Jensen’s round belly was pressed against his bedcovers, math book spread out in
front of him while he multiplied fractions in his spiral notebook. He wasn’t
surprised when Jared walked into his room, although his latest nanny had been
keeping a closer eye on Jared lately, so it had been a few days since Jensen
had seen Jared.
Jared stood next to Jensen’s bed for a moment before climbing up on Jensen’s
back and sitting in the dip of his lower back, shifting his bony hips until he
found a comfortable position.
“M’not a horse,” Jensen declared mildly. Jared snorted and squeezed his thighs
tight around Jensen’s hips, bucking himself hard against Jensen’s back as if to
prove that Jensen was whatever Jared wanted him to be. The jutting shape of his
six-year-old body hurt. It leaves bruises that Jensen’s mother will ask about
later when his pajama top rides up, and which he’ll lie about and attribute to
falling out of bed and hitting his dresser. He’ll examine them in the bathroom
mirror later, shoulders rotated as far as they can turn as he fondly traces the
faint blooms of purple and blue contusions.
“Would you let me ride you down the hallway?” Jared asked, voice dark and
curious as he settled himself belly-down, heart pounding furnace-hot against
Jensen’s bare back. He was a few years too old for a horsie ride, although
Jensen wondered if Jared had ever been interested in something so juvenile as
that even when he was young enough for it to be socially acceptable.
“Do you want to?” Jensen asked quietly, as much of an answer as anything, and
he heard Jared’s satisfied laughter from behind his head.
“Not today,” Jared replied, and the pressure of him rocking back and forth,
treating Jensen like some kind of human-shaped rocking horse, made a strange,
hot feeling grow below Jensen’s belly. It was like a fever or a rash crawling
inside his skin, and it made him hate those three years between them, the
constant waiting for Jared to catch up.
“I cut off Kimberly Nile’s pigtail last week,” Jared said abruptly. It’s the
first time Jensen had heard the victim’s name, and he sucked in a quick breath.
“I saw what she did to you,” Jared said, leaning his belly down, pressing
himself down harder. Jared crossed his arms on the back of Jensen’s head, a
mild pressure. “I saw her stomp your lunch on the floor. I saw her friends say
mean things to you.”
Jared and Jensen have different lunch periods, and Jensen would have wondered
how Jared even saw that interaction, except he knew Jared often slipped out of
class. Sometimes Jared would try to join Jensen for lunch, although the
cafeteria monitors always found him.
“Where’d you get the scissors?” Jensen asked, because he knew the kind they
keep in the classroom: dull, plastic things that can barely cut paper, much
less hair.
“I stole it from the teacher’s desk,” Jared said proudly. “I was going to do
more. I was going to cut off her feet for stomping your food. But she started
screaming when I grabbed her hair. I pulled her shoe off and I was just
starting to cut it when the teachers found me and pulled me off her. They took
my scissors.”
“How much trouble did you get in?” Jensen asked.
“They gave me detention for a couple days,” Jared answered, rocking against
Jensen’s back again. “I think they wanted to do more. But my dad talked to
them. He was a little mad when we got home. He said I cost him a lot of money.
But I go back to school tomorrow.”
“They’d kick you out if you’d hurt her more,” Jensen said quietly. “And then
you’d be locked up and we couldn’t go to school together.”
Jared is quiet for a moment, and Jensen can hear his soft breathing just behind
his head. “Ok. I won’t hurt her. But if she does it again…”
Jensen’s mother’s suddenly voice rings out from the kitchen, loud and
questioning: “Jensen?”
“Yeah?” he answers, his voice raised loud enough to be heard.
“Is Jared with you?” she asks. “His father just called; he’s looking for him.”
Jensen didn’t answer, just held his breath and waited for Jared to give some
kind of response. After a few seconds, Jared rolled off of Jensen’s back and
called out, “I’m here, Mrs. Ackles. I’m going home.”
Despite the soreness left behind from Jared’s bony ass digging into his back,
Jensen immediately missed the warm feel and pressure. Jared sat on the floor in
front of him instead, grabbing Jensen’s math book and tossing it blindly into
the corner. He then turned around, back to the bed frame, and grabbed Jensen’s
hands, settling them in his long, soft hair in a silent demand for Jensen to
stroke the chestnut strands. Jensen complied, had always loved the feel of
Jared’s thick, beautiful hair between his fingers, and Jared leaned back and
stayed an extra twenty minutes before finally heading home.
                                  [Matches] 
                                 ~NOW~ 18, 15
Jensen’s never really felt the urge to kill anyone. At least up until now.
Behind the school gym is a little niche in the wall, well-known for being the
perfect place to make out. Jared and a dark-haired girl are tucked inside, wet
mouths sliding against each other, fingers finding bare skin.
Jensen watches them and for the first time thinks about how satisfying it would
be to stab a kitchen knife right between two slatted ribs and turn the handle.
He imagines grabbing the girl by her long dark hair, jerking her head back so
her mouth startles into a rose red-lipped gasp, and sliding a knife across her
smooth, slim throat.
Of course Jared knows that Jensen’s watching. He’s always had a keen sense for
when Jensen’s nearby, could probably find Jensen in a dark room with his eyes
closed. He puts on a show just for Jensen, moving them to give the best view of
Jared’s tongue in her mouth and his hands on her breasts. When Jared’s fingers
slip under the band of the girl’s jeans, Jensen decides that he can’t be there
anymore.
From the moment Jared started high school, Jensen had never left his side. The
group that Jensen had hung out with while Jared was finishing up middle school
had long since forgotten him, and Jensen hadn’t really been sad to see them go
at the time.
Jensen wanders around for a few days until he stumbles across some baseball
jocks on the field at lunch, practicing their swings and just hanging out.
They’re friendly and when Jensen impresses them with a few home-run caliber
hits, they take him to the coach and make him join the team. It would feel good
if Jensen didn’t miss Jared like a cut-off limb, needing the boy near him at
all times.
When he tells Jared about joining the team, the boy smirks and makes a comment
about how wide Jensen’s bowlegs are gonna look in tight little baseball pants.
Jared hangs out in the bleachers sometimes to watch during practice, but most
of the time he leaves to do his own thing. It’s not any different, really, than
when Jensen had hung out during the spring season while Jared had been at
basketball practice, putting on his All-American Jock act.
Coach Jackson is the baseball sponsor, although he has the team call him CJ. He
takes a special interest in Jensen, offering extra practice and generally going
out of his way to make Jensen feel welcome. It feels nice, although Jensen
still prefers when practice is over and Jared walks him home. But Jared isn’t
always waiting for him, and sometimes he’s got a girl at his house. They change
out every week, never the same one twice.
The first time Jared doesn’t show to walk him home, Jensen sighs and jogs home
by himself, cutting across the creek and disappointedly walking into his house.
He’s finishing up some homework at his desk when he sees movement over the
fence, in Jared’s backyard, and catches a glimpse of Jared walking a girl into
the pool house. The windows are wide, and Jared’s got the curtains pulled back
when they start making out.
Jensen doesn’t want to watch. But he can’t help it. They’re going pretty hot
and heavy from the start, Jared pressing her small body in the couch, and
Jensen tries not be jealous of how easily the girl fits under Jared, how
perfectly matched they looked. When Jared peels off her clothes, Jensen still
can’t look away, although his eyes are locked onto Jared.
There’s some definition starting to develop in his biceps, and Jensen swallows
deep and wonders if maybe Jared’s been hitting the gym while Jensen’s been at
practice. There are muscles that Jensen swears weren’t there last week.
She claws at Jared’s back while he fucks her, and Jensen seethes. He swears
he’s gonna find her and snap her fingers like twigs for daring to mark up his
boy.
He knows it’s all empty promises.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~THEN~ 13, 11
The marks Jared left were very different from the marks Jensen’s dad sometimes
left.
Jensen doesn’t remember the first time he learned to stay out of the way when
his dad got upset, but he does remember the first time he got in the middle of
his father’s temper. Jensen was seven and his dad had been upset at him for
leaving his baseball equipment and dirty sneakers in the livingroom. He’d been
startled and scared when he’d heard his father calling his name up the stairs,
his booming voice echoing like a gunshot up the stairs.
He’d run down the stairs immediately and had seen his mother bending down to
pick up his things, but before she could touch anything, his dad had shoved her
away, telling her disgustedly that “the boy needs to clean up his own damn
mess.”
Immediately, Jensen had gathered up his things, intending to take it to his
room, but it was already too slow for his dad. Before Jensen could leave, the
man backhanded Jensen across the face, causing everything in his arms to
scatter across the hardwood while Jensen fell to the floor, arms thrown over
his face to block more attacks.
“This is not your fucking house,” his dad had huffed while stomping his
baseball bat until it splintered into two pieces. “You should be damn grateful
for me for paying for everything here, your mother as hell doesn’t contribute.
Now get off the fucking floor and stop playing the victim. I don’t ever wanna
see you disrespecting me this way again.”
Carefully, Jensen had picked up his broken things off the floor, head down as
he held his breath and went up the stairs, alert for anything else his father
might yell or throw at him.
He’d had a black eye by the next morning, which he sheepishly told Jared he’d
gotten from getting hit with a baseball at practice. It wasn’t the first bruise
he ended up having to explain to Jared, and the boy looked less and less
convinced each time a new one appeared.
The bruising didn’t happen too often, however. Usually, Jensen’s dad reserved
his temper for Jensen’s mom. Jared was always there for those, too. He’d climb
in through Jensen’s window the minute he could hear the shouting from next
door. Jensen was usually curled up in his bed, earbuds in, phone shuffling
through Kaleo. Jared would sit next to Jensen on his bed, arm around him until
the shouting finally died down.
“I’m gonna kill him one day,” Jared would sometimes promise, glaring towards
the door. “One day, Jensen. Then I’ll take care of you.”
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~THEN~ 15, 13
Jared burns things that he’s finished with.
Just before entering middle school, Jared took all his clothes and threw them
into his backyard firepit. Ripped jeans, frayed plaid shirts, t-shirts with
mildly obscene images that skated the line of the school dress code. Everything
was thrown into the metal cage, doused in propane, and set ablaze.
His dad hadn’t been happy when he found out, but he hadn’t punished Jared for
it. He just handed Jared his credit card, mildly commenting that if Jared had
wanted a new wardrobe he could have just said so. Jared had gone for a mixture
of preppy and casually stylish, blending in just the right amount to fit in and
social climb. He transitioned into dimpling grins and easy laughter. Went from
antisocial loner to popular, witty jock so fast that Jensen wondered why no one
else seems worried about the sudden change in personality.
Jared became more involved in school. He won the lead in the school play,
joined basketball, ran for junior high student council. He got old enough that
his father generally trusted the boy to watch himself, although Jensen still
stopped by from time to time.
One of the last times Jensen officially babysat occurs when Mr. Padalecki
stayed out extra late on New Year’s Eve. Jared was thirteen now, capable of
watching himself, but his dad wasn’t sure if he’d be back before morning and he
just wanted someone to keep Jared company overnight. He offered Jensen three
times his usual rate, and although he tried to refuse, Mr. Padalecki shoves
five 20s into his hands, telling him to order pizza and keep whatever’s left.
They ended up gorging themselves on pizza and soda while marathoning Marvel
movies (Jensen wasn’t quite ready to admit out loud his fascination with Chris
Hemsworth’s hands and jawline, although he suspected his mother already knew).
It was an hour to midnight when Jensen saw a contemplative look stir over
Jared’s face as his eyes kept cutting to and from Jensen. It made some
paradoxical mixture of fear and excitement wash prickling heat over his skin,
like Jared’s gaze was a physical touch, and he tried not to squirm and give
away that nervous energy.
Soon enough, Jared seemed to make up his mind and turned to place a hand over
Jensen’s arm.
“Wanna play a game?” he asked in a low voice. Jensen was pretty sure they
weren’t talking about something they could put in an Xbox.
He nodded, not trusting his voice to stay even at the moment. Jared flashed a
hungry grin that Jensen was fairly certain only he had ever seen, and left,
going into the garage then the kitchen.
He came back with a chair and some rope, and Jensen’s green eyes grew wary and
uncertain.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
Jared didn’t answer, but he placed the chair in the middle of the room, a small
smile on his face. Jensen let Jared grab his hand and lead him over to sit
down. He didn’t trust Jared. Never has. But that didn’t stop him from doing
whatever the boy wants.
Jared’s dimples pop out as he grinned, obviously pleased with Jensen’s easy
compliance, and he squeezed Jensen’s hand warmly before letting go to pick up
the thin cords.
Something inside Jensen wanted to burst. His hands twitched anxiously, whole
body filled with some new anticipation.
“Gonna practice my knots,” Jared declared, looping the rope around Jensen’s
back, twisting it up his thighs, crossing patterns against skin and muscle. The
ropes were tight and secure, and Jensen wondered where Jared learned to tie
knots like these. He subtly tested his strength against their hold, finding
them impossibly strong, and a strange, vague thrill ran up his spine.
Jared ran his hands across the ropes, nudged a finger underneath the tight
confinement and followed the loops around Jensen’s legs and across his hips.
Jared’s hands were big, spanning across most of Jensen’s thigh and could
probably more than comfortably circle his wrist. Jensen was certain it meant
Jared was going to tower over him one day, and he was also positive that his
fascination with Chris Hemsworth’s hands stemmed from how thoroughly they
reminded him of Jared’s.
After Jared finished following all the pathways that were burning red prints
into Jensen’s skin, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out the buck
knife that he almost always kept somewhere on him. It was a present from Jensen
for his tenth birthday, stolen because Jensen was too afraid that he wouldn’t
be allowed to buy it. After unwrapping the paper around it, Jared had traced
the wolf print on the handle, eyes shining with approval that makes Jensen’s
chest go tight.
Jensen had no idea what Jared wanted to do with that knife now, and the
distinct sensation of fear fluttered in his stomach. He’d never made the
mistake of underestimating Jared, had never been fooled by the mask Jared wears
for everyone else, and while Jensen could flirt with the idea of pain, there
are some things that can’t be taken back.
For the first time in years, he thought about what’s buried underneath the
maple tree. He remembered the first one – the sharp smell of charred synthetic
fibers underneath a mixture of lighter fluid and alcohol, popping snaps of blue
blazing up like Jared had thrown salt on the pyre. It had all been dark ashes
when they’d placed the dead Guinea pig on top, and Jensen wondered how far
along the tiny animal’s body has decomposed by now. Jensen hadn’t had to do any
clean-up duty since, but he was certain that Mr. Gordo and his insentient
friends weren’t Jared’s only victims.
Jared used the knife to find Jensen’s belly button, dipping it down his stomach
until it finally indented. His face was thoughtful, calculating, before he
pulled a section of shirt away from Jensen’s body and slashed a tear into it.
He kept going, cutting off Jensen’s sleeves, ripping down the collar, poking
the end into the seams and feeling them burst as he tore them open. Jensen’s
shirt ended up on the floor in pieces, and he shivered at the cold air against
naked skin, the winter cold making his nipples pebble and arms fill with goose
bumps. But Jared was careful; he didn’t leave so much as a scratch.
He skated his knife carefully across Jensen’s exposed chest, eyes roving,
chewing his lower lip in thought. Finally, he pressed the button on the side of
the knife that unlocks the blade and folded it back into itself, tossed it on
the floor and slid into Jensen’s lap.
“Jensen?” he asked, moving his arms behind Jensen’s neck, tipping their
foreheads together. “Can you keep a secret?” Jared’s arms tightened and the
question rattled down Jensen’s spine like a pebble tossed down a rain gutter.
“Yes,” he replied, his cheeks flushing because he knew what kind of picture he
made; a sixteen-year-old pinned in place by some kid just barely in his teens,
letting him tie him up, going dizzy and reckless over what he was willing to
let this boy do to him. It embarrassed Jensen, just how much he loved it all.
“Good.” Jared nodded, his hair sweeping across Jensen’s forehead. “That’s
really good, Jen. You gonna stick around? Stay forever? I need you to. I need
you stay and keep all my secrets.”
If Jensen’s hands were free, he’d rub them over Jared’s back in wide circles,
just the way Jared liked him to do when they’re watching TV together. But as it
was, he could only nod a little and answer, “M’not going anywhere, Jared.”
Jared’s chameleon eyes were dark blue in the low light with bits of copper
flashing from the glow of the TV, and they glanced down at Jensen’s lips as
Jared says “I know you’re not,” and kissed him.
It was brief and subdued, but it was the best thing that ever happened to
Jensen. He strained against the ropes, almost tearing up with frustration
because all he wanted to do was get his goddamn hands on this perfect boy in
his lap. Jared moved his mouth to Jared’s neck, locking his mouth and teeth on
a meaty piece of flesh. Jensen wondered how long he’d have to hide in his room
until the resulting bruise faded.
“You’re mine,” Jared whispered fiercely against Jensen’s cheeks then bit the
sentiment into Jensen’s jaw. “Mine. I’ll fuckin’ kill you if you ever leave.
Tell me that you’re mine, Jensen.”
Jensen tilted his chin up as Jared kept biting and kissing and sucking across
his neck, and gasped up at the ceiling, “Yeah. Yours. I’m yours, Jared.”
He could feel the smile against his skin, heard the hum of satisfaction before
Jared pulled away then turned so his back was against Jensen’s chest. Jared
settled in with a long sigh, leaning back and letting his head fall next to
Jensen’s. When the end credits started rolling ten minutes later, Jared got up
to grab the remote, scrolling through all the available movies until he settled
on Cabin in the Woods. He laughed and planted a kiss on Jensen’s cheek like he
knew about Jensen’s crush on Chris Hemsworth, maybe even knew why, and found it
amusing.
He didn’t move from Jensen’s lap for the rest of the movie, which meant
Jensen’s legs were sore and tingling by the time Jared decided to go to bed. He
dick also hurt, which was completely Jared’s fault – he kept rolling his hips
in Jensen’s lap in teasing little movements that made Jensen aroused and hard,
although the little shit hadn’t put nearly enough pressure on him to get him
off. Not to mention that the ropes were cutting off some of his blood flow. It
all combined into something grossly uncomfortable, and Jensen hoped he didn’t
have to stay this way for much longer.
After Jared was in his pajamas, teeth brushed, face washed, he came out and
kissed Jensen again, thoughtful and slow, like he was cataloging the process.
When he was finished, he pulled back, let a hand fall to Jensen’s crotch and
squeezed once, fingers warm against the half-hard press of Jensen’s erection.
“Gonna keep you in these ropes all night,” Jared said with a smile. “Wanna see
all those pretty marks buried deep in your skin by morning. So be a good boy
for me, ‘kay?”
“Your dad...” Jensen started to say until Jared laughed and leaned in to bite
Jensen’s lower lip, tugging it and letting the pink muscle stretch out before
it slipped out from between his front teeth.
“Is probably getting pussy right now,” Jared replied. “There’s no way he’s not
holed up in some hotel right now dick-deep in some slutty drunk college girl or
three. He won’t be back before tomorrow afternoon.”
Jared was probably right, but Jensen couldn’t help but mistrust that laughing
glint in his eyes, wondering if Jared wanted his dad to catch Jensen like this.
He thought that if he worked at it, he could get loose, maybe break the chair
if he needed to. But Jensen wasn’t going to try. He was going to stay. Be a
good boy. Because Jared asked him to.
It proved, however, impossible. The ropes were chaffing, and Jensen could feel
his veins pulsating with every heartbeat, nerves starting to go numb. He’d also
had to pee before the movie even ended, and he made it 45 minutes before he
couldn’t hold back anymore. The sound and smell of urine hitting the floor was
strong, and Jensen was ashamed but couldn’t stop.
Jared finally came out another fifteen minutes later, hall light flicking on as
he padded out in his boxers.
“You’re too fuckin’ loud,” Jared said with sleepy eyes. “Can’t sleep with all
your squeaking.” With a quick flick of his wrist, he pulled out his knife,
jerked it up through the ropes until they fell to the floor in lifeless, snake-
shaped coils. Jared’s tired face lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw the
deep, chafed grooves cut into Jensen’s skin. Jared made Jensen remove his wet
pants and followed the rutted, scarlet skin roadmaps with exploring fingers
until Jensen was shaking and needy and could barely walk straight when Jared
pulled him into his bathroom.
The spray of the shower hurt at first, nerves still tingling. Jared pulled off
his boxers as he joined Jensen under the spray, soaping up Jensen’s skin, hands
everywhere. Jensen started whining softly.
“Touch me, please touch me,” he begged softly, swallowing back the horrible
feeling in his stomach because his knew this was wrong, has always been wrong,
and Jared was barely in his teens right now. Jared smirked as he kept soaping
Jensen up then reached down, palm out as he smacked Jensen’s dick twice – hard
– and Jensen gave a high-pitched whine, tears in his eyes because it hurt, but
it was the best thing he’d ever felt in his life.
“You’re a freak, Ackles.” Jared’s voice was mean, but Jensen knew he loved it.
Jared didn’t touch Jensen’s dick again, even though Jensen’s pretty sure it
would have taken just one good hit or stroke to get him off. Instead, he
toweled Jensen off and took them to bed.
He had Jensen slip in beside him in his twin-sized bed with superhero sheets,
tucking himself against Jensen’s chest, thigh painfully jutted into Jensen’s
erection and fingers gripped tight in the hoodie Jared had given him to sleep
in since he’d cut up Jensen’s shirt.
Thankfully, Jensen woke up before Jared’s dad got home. He called in the
morning, just as Jared predicted, to tell Jensen that he had decided to stay in
the city overnight and to thank him for keeping an eye on his son. Jensen
assured him that it was no problem, and after gathering his things (including
his piss-soaked pants), he went out the door before Jared could think of a
reason to stop him.
Jensen jerked off in his room the moment he got home, door carefully locked as
he bit into his hand to keep his moans muffled and his face dipped into the
neck of the sweatshirt he was wearing that still smelled like Jared. Mental
images of dimples and hazel eyes and knives held inside large hands flashed
through his mind when he spilled wet and hot all over himself.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~NOW~ 18, 15
There’ve been less girls lately, and Jensen wonders if Jared’s already gone
through most of their high school’s female population. During an assembly, he
overhears a couple girls talking about Jared, the small group huddled in the
back of the auditorium, completely ignoring the spirit week theatrics.
“He’s a fucking prick,” the first girl states. “Really mean. He shoved me down
on the bed, fucked me from behind.”
“Hard, though, right?” the second one asks, smirking languidly. “He’s got a
good cock. Best fuck I’ve ever had.”
“Did he burn you though? After?”
The second one scoffs and nods. “Yeah. Douche move. I’ve heard he does it to
everyone. He ran his lighter under my arm. Didn’t leave a mark, but hurt like
hell. Where’d he burn you?”
“My foot.” The first girl sounds pissed. “I can take a hint, I wasn’t expecting
us to get married or anything. I was just about to leave.”
Smirking, Jensen tunes them out after that, attention finally going to the
front of the stage where Jared is up with the rest of the basketball team,
getting recognized for coming second in state. Jensen remembers that game. He’d
blown Jared in the corner of the bus afterwards, knees pressed into the dirty
floor and trying to be quiet enough not to alert the coaches.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~THEN~ 16, 13
“Aww, are you babysitting your little brother?”
Jensen fumbled, not sure how to reply, although could see Jared fuming next to
him. The kid still had a baby face, all pink cheeks and soft hair falling into
bright hazel eyes. Anyone looking at him would mistake him for a sweet child.
Of course, Jensen knew better. He saw the way Jared’s fists clenched, and for a
second, he actually thought the boy was going to reach across the gas station
counter and strangle the well-intentioned-but-nosy attendant.
It didn’t help that this wasn’t the first time someone had made the assumption,
although it only reminded them both how Jensen had shot up this past summer,
stretching another half a foot up until he towered helplessly over Jared.
When Jared took a step forward, Jensen put a hand on his shoulder, although he
didn’t think he could actually stop Jared from doing anything. Jared’s
shoulders rose as he took a deep breath, huffing it out angrily before he
turned away and stomped out the door.
“No, ma’am,” Jensen finally replied, taking his change and the bag of gummy
bears then leaving before the woman could say anything more.
“Fucking stand up straight,” Jared growled at Jensen when he was outside.
“Don’t patronize me.”
They had planned on playing Mario Kart when they got back, but when they
reached their houses, Jared grabbed the bag of gummy bears and ran to his own
house, slamming the door loudly.
He refused to see Jensen for three months.
It felt like a punishment, like Jared blamed Jensen for being bigger and older,
when it really just made Jensen miserable every day. Jared would answer his
texts once in a while, although it was all cursory and vague. He said he wasn’t
mad at Jensen, he said he just didn’t feel like hanging out right now, and he
told Jensen to stop bothering him, he’s fine.
Jensen started having mini panic attacks at school. He’d excuse him from the
middle of class and then either shut himself in a bathroom stall or drive home
and curl up inside his bed. He had no idea what to do with himself, wondering
if this was it for good, if Jared had finally realized he didn’t really need
Jensen, if their futures weren’t as intertwined as Jensen had always assumed.
His chest tightened when he thought of Jared leaving him for good, weight
pressing on his ribs like a boulder had been rolled on top of him.
Despite being neighbors, Jared found ways to avoid him. Changed his route to
school, stopped swimming in his pool, pretended not to see Jensen whenever they
were actually outside at the same time.
After a couple months, Jensen ended up outside the front door, hand sore from
knocking and cell phone tossed uselessly to the side. He was hyperventilating
and shaking, and he wasn’t even sure if he was crying or not, he couldn’t feel
his face.
Jensen had no idea how long he’d been sitting on the porch when Mr. Padalecki
came home.
“What are you doing here, son?” the man asked, leaning down to get a better
look at Jensen.
Jensen’s forehead was pressed to his knees, and he just shook his head. His
throat was so tight, he wasn’t even sure he could speak if he tried.
He heard a soft sigh and then the rustle of Mr. Padalecki crouching in front of
him. A warm pressure started rubbing at his shoulders soothingly.
“Hey. Jared’s just as miserable as you are. I know you probably can’t tell,
Jensen, but he is. This won’t last forever.”
Without raising his head, Jensen tried to gulp down enough air to calm down. He
was getting lightheaded from inhaling so much carbon dioxide from between his
knees, and he tried to breathe more calmly, get back in control.
“You sure?” he managed to whisper out hoarsely.
“The boy’s about to break,” Mr. Padalecki reassured him. “He’s got a week left,
maybe two.”
Miserably, Jensen just nodded. With a soft pat, Mr. Padalecki stood up and left
Jensen there as he went inside.
Two weeks was really five. Jared snuck in Jensen’s window while he was sleeping
and slipped under his covers, biting at Jensen’s shoulder until Jensen woke up
and almost wept from relief. There was no explanation, no apology. Jared did,
however, nuzzle into Jensen’s bed almost every night after that for months,
mouth and teeth leaving bruising imprints that Jensen liked to think of as
claiming marks, like Jared was reassuring him that it wouldn’t happen again.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~NOW~ 18, 15
Jensen loves being on the field, being part of a team. He likes it better when
Jared’s watching, although it’s not too often. When Jared’s there, he’ll grab
Jensen after practice and make out with him behind the storage shed, grinding
against the metal sheet paneling. Jared loves it when Jensen’s sweaty and red-
faced, loves licking up Jensen’s neck and chest between bites.
Jared’s not here today, though, and Jensen tries not to think about what Jared
might be doing at home and whether or not he’s in his pool house. Although
there’s a chance he’s in the weight room instead, hitting the weights like he’s
been doing obsessively for months.
When Jensen’s baseball practice finishes up, Coach Jackson tells the team to
clean up and hit the locker room. He pulls Jensen aside, which he does at least
once a week, to have a chat.
“Looking good!” he tells Jensen as they walk into his office. “You been
practicing your stance like I taught you last week?”
“Yes sir,” Jensen answers, pleased that the coach had noticed.
“You know you’re more than welcome to call me CJ,” the coach gently prods.
Ducking his head, Jensen nods faintly. “I know.”
“But you won’t,” Coach Jackson states with a wry grin. “That’s okay, Ackles.
You’ve got old school manners. Not a bad thing.”
There’s a beat of silence before the coach continues, “I’ve been looking into
some sports therapy college programs since you said you were interested. I’ve
taken a few classes, and I’m more than happy to help you out.”
“Really?” Jensen blinks, eyes going wide, unused to people looking out for him
who aren’t Jared. “That’s… awesome. Yeah, that’d be great.”
“Great. You wanna hop onto the table so I can show you?”
“Show me where?” Jensen glances where the coach has motioned and sees a raised,
vinyl-covered table in the adjoining room to his office. Jensen hesitates for a
minute, but when the coach walks over, he follows and climbs on.
“There. I just wanna show you some basics,” Coach Jackson assures him. “Core
sports massage therapy that every person should know. Just enough to make your
college applications shine.”
Jensen is apprehensive, but the coach is already grabbing a bottle of lotion
and motions for Jensen to lie back.
“You gotta take your shirt off, too,” the coach directs as he warms the lotion
between his hands. “You can leave your shorts on, just hike them up a bit.”
Jensen does as he’s asked and lies back. The coach’s hands are warm when he
reaches down to rub Jensen’s quads between them, hands moving up and down.
“This is called effleurage, it’s to warm up the muscles, get the blood
flowing,” he explains. “I like to do this for a couple minutes on each body
part, loosen it up.”
Jensen nods faintly, staring at the ceiling and wondering if he should try to
hop off, thank the coach for his time, and leave. But he’s never been good at
saying ‘no,’ and, besides that, he coach hasn’t done anything wrong. Mostly,
he’s worried about what Jared would think.
The slow, steady pressure feels good, Jensen has to admit after a few minutes.
He can feel his muscles start to loosen, warming up between the man’s strong
hands.
“Feeling better?” Coach asks after a few minutes, and Jensen nods, eyes closed.
“Good. The second step is petrissage, which is kneading and rolling the
muscle.” His hands squeeze a bit tighter, working the muscles, and Jensen holds
his breath when he feels the coach’s hands move a bit higher inside his thigh,
working a few circles that brush, just lightly, against Jensen’s groin.
A protest starts to form inside his throat, but before he can get it out, Coach
Jackson’s already moved down the legs, starting on the hamstrings next,
cheerfully still explaining what he’s doing.
The coach stays away from Jensen’s groin after that, and Jensen sighs in
relief, wondering if he’s being paranoid and overreacting. Coach Jackson has
him flip over onto his stomach after that so he can get to Jensen’s back, and
Jensen melts into the steady touch, almost falling asleep on the table.
Towards the end, Coach Jackson squeezes his hands around Jensen’s hips,
kneading and pushing while Jensen breathes contentedly. He almost doesn’t
realize when the man’s hands are on his ass, following the shape with his
fingers, palm squeezing a bit before he moves back and announces, “Nice, huh?
The best part of sports therapy is being able to make people feel good,
especially after a long practice. Go ahead and jump down, Jensen, I’ll see you
next practice.”
Mutely, Jensen hops down, grabbing his backpack and unable to answer when Coach
Jackson says “goodbye,” as Jensen walks out the door. During the walk home, he
tries to sort out how he feels, what happened. But by the time he reaches his
door, he’s completely uncertain and decides to let it go. It probably wasn’t a
big deal.
Of course, Jared’s in the pool house again. Jensen wonders if he timed it
perfectly with Jensen’s practice, knowing, as usual, when Jensen would get
home.
The girl is enthusiastic, climbing up Jared and wrapping every part of herself
around him. Irritated, Jensen tries to stop watching but he can’t. He can’t
tears his eyes away from the window, angry that he can’t be the slutty thing in
Jared’s lap, certain that he could out-do any girl that’s Jared’s ever been
with.
Jared shoves her back hard before sinking his mouth around her tits. She jumps,
like he’d bit her, and smacks him once but doesn’t stop.
In the top of Jensen’s dresser drawer is a dildo, carefully wrapped in a towel
and shoved inconspicuously underneath socks and underwear. Jensen grabs it now,
propping a chair in front of the window, kicking off his underwear, and
spreading himself wide open so he can slip the lubed-up fake cock up his ass.
He can hear himself whimper as he pushes it in and feels the tip of the
silicone reach deep, brush against the spongy gland of his prostate. He starts
whispering Jared’s name, alternating between throwing his head back and
squinting his eyes tight and panting against the window sill, trying to get a
good view of the way Jared’s hands are clamped around the girl’s arms, the way
his hips piston in and out.
God, he knows he’d be so good for Jared. If Jared needs him to be a girl, he’d
do his best, roll over, let Jared take him from behind, wear a skirt, paint his
lips, whatever the boy wanted just so he could feel Jared inside. He practices
poses on the bed sometimes, trying to accentuate curves, trying to look
feminine. He imagines Jared over him now, one hand on his throat and fingers
pulling aside pink lace so he can push his dick inside.
A few minutes later he comes hard with a hurt cry, one hand still fucking
himself with the dildo and the other hand wrapped around his cock, jacking it
while come spills over his fist and drips down his thighs.
He watches Jared get up and kick the girl out, shrugging at whatever she says,
before he walks over to the main house’s back porch to go inside. Hand paused
on the door handle, Jared turns to Jensen’s window, smirks, and gives him a
half-wave before stepping inside the house.
God, Jensen hates him.
***** Chapter 2 *****
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~THEN~ 16, 14
“Let me see it,” Jared said eagerly, sitting on Jensen’s lap.
He pawed at Jensen’s shirt collar, stretching it out so he could see the
hickeys all along Jensen’s collarbone. It was getting ridiculous, and Jensen
was worried he’d have to start wearing turtlenecks everyday if Jared kept this
up. Not that he’d stop the boy. It was sweet tortured being pinned down like
this, Jared warm on Jensen’s lap, Jared’s mouth against Jensen’s neck and
chest. Sometimes Jared slipped a hand under Jensen’s shirt to pinch at his
nipples, chuckling against Jensen’s skin every time Jensen yelped.
There was no finesse to the way he did it – it was less about getting Jensen
off and more about making Jensen wince in pain. But Jensen got off on it
anyway. The warm feel of Jared pinning him down was already good, and Jensen
liked the sharp ache in his nipples as Jared pinched and played with them.
The moment Jensen turned sixteen, he couldn’t stop daydreaming about Jared’s
cock up his ass. It’s all he could think about, distracting him from classes,
making him miss fly balls that come his way on the baseball field.
They’d been at different schools for a couple years and Jensen hated it. He
missed Jared, didn’t know what to do with himself without him. It’s why he
joined the baseball team, trying to find something to fill up all that empty
space and time, maybe even get out some of that anxious energy.
The spring before Jared finally joined Jensen in high school, Jared wouldn’t
stop marking Jensen up in every way. His nipples were sore all the time from
overuse, and his body looked like he’d been in a car accident, purple-and-blue
bruises bloomed everywhere like an old graveyard.
“Jared,” Jensen whined out. Jared had just thrown down the xbox controller so
he could better focus on pinking up Jensen’s nipples. Jensen could feel his
dick straining against his zipper, pressing into Jared’s thigh.
“Jensen,” Jared teased back, exaggerated whining. “What? Do you want
something?”
“Fucking just… fuck,” Jensen hoarsely replied, so frustrated. He could feel
tears start to prick the edges of his eye, he just wanted so bad, wanted this
boy in his lap, wanted Jared to do filthy things to him, wanted to be pinned
down, wanted to be used until he ached.
“Wanna know what I dreamed about last night?” Jared asked abruptly, hand
running down Jensen’s stomach. His eyes were teasing.
“Y-yeah,” Jensen shook out. He was so goddamn hard right now, and everything
hurt.
“You, on your knees,” Jared continued, his hand rubbing circles around
Jensen's’ belly button. “So grateful to have a cock down your throat, eyes
half-lidded, enjoying every second you got to taste my dick.”
Jensen’s mouth started watering, although he tried not to get too excited.
“I’ve been thinking about it all day.” Jared slipped off Jensen’s lap to settle
in next to him. “I wonder if you’re a natural. You look like a born slut. But I
wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you are, Jensen.”
It made his skin flush and burn, but Jensen’s always known what he was. “I’m
your fucking slut,” Jensen dutifully answered, closing his eyes for a minute
and revelling in how good that felt. Jared started nudging Jensen to the
ground, pushing at him until Jensen settled between Jared’s thighs and gulped
Jared’s dick down.
It was his first time, but Jensen had watched thousands of hours of videos,
imagined this happening countless times. It was still messy – Jensen couldn’t
help it, spit drooling out the sides of his mouth, and when Jared started
pumping in, they both lost all coordination. But Jared still came in the end,
grunting while Jensen suckled him until Jared shoved his head away.
Jensen savored the taste, rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth and
feeling deliciously slutty as he swallowed it down. He felt even better when
Jared dragged Jensen up onto the couch, leaning against him as he told him to
stick his hand down his pants.
“Fuck your own hand, baby,” Jared whispered, voice low and dark. “Come on, I
fucking love you when you’re dirty. Hump your hand, baby, I know how hungry you
are for dick, how much you wanna spread your legs and have someone fill up that
ass.”
Jensen fell apart shortly after that, tears running out the sides of his eyes
when he finally spilled over his hand. When Jared reached down to touch
Jensen’s dick, Jensen made a high pitched sound, swore he almost came again
when Jared scooped up the warm come on his fingers then slipped the digits
inside Jensen’s mouth, eyes bright and approving when Jensen weakly sucked his
own come off.
“Beautiful,” Jared stated. Jensen closed his eyes, feeling warm and wanted and
more content than he’d ever been in his sixteen-year-old life.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~NOW~ 18, 15
Tactile affection has always been important to Jensen. It’s probably why he
doesn’t protest right away when the coach continues the massage sessions,
spread out just enough so Jensen doesn’t know when they’ll happen. It keeps his
anxious during practice, wondering just how daring the coach is going to get
this time.
Jensen thinks about telling the coach to stop. He’s ashamed, however, of how
his dick gets hard every time they start and how he likes being wanted like
this – how the coach is willing to risk his job and possibly jail time just for
the chance to touch Jensen. Sometimes Jensen daydreams during practice,
wondering what it would feel like if the coach pinned him down by the back of
the neck and made Jensen take his dick in whatever hole he wanted.
Of course, he’d rather it be Jared. But Jared still refuses to fuck him
properly, no matter how many times Jensen begs him. Just yesterday, Jensen had
been spread out on his own bed, cheerleader outfit on, skirt rucked up around
his hips. He’d flipped over onto his belly, knees tucked underneath himself.
Jared was standing behind him, cock hard and pointed up, watching Jensen with
his ass in the air and face muffled into the mattress, begging Jared to just
please, please, please stick his cock inside.
Jared had watched interestedly for a moment, tugging at his cock, but
ultimately ordered Jensen to turn around and flip onto his back, head hanging
off the side.
Frustrated, Jensen did so, trying to be content with Jared roughly fucking down
his throat. But it was never quite enough.
Despite being anxious about his after-practice activities, Jensen still enjoys
being on the team. The guys appreciate his arm and speed, and they look out for
him when Jared’s not around. Which is too often lately. Jensen feels the
absence like a hole in his chest, suddenly uncertain of their future together,
wondering if Jared actually got tired of him, if he’s just going to stop
showing up one day. The thought makes Jensen panic and he has to pause and bend
down to catch his breath, trying to breathe through the tightness in his chest.
His teammates immediately tell him to take a water break and go sit on the
sidelines, which Jensen does gratefully until he can breathe again. He manages
to push those thoughts down even further down, throwing himself back into
practice for the second half, focusing on getting through this moment.
When practice wraps up, everyone jogs off the field, a few guys slapping
Jensen’s ass and congratulating him on that spectacular hit he’d made during
the last part of batting practice.
The coach drags him back to his office, and by now, Jensen knows what to do. He
strips down to his underwear, belly-up on the massage table while the coach
continues with the pretense that this is for educational purposes.
Jensen wonders if Coach Jackson has done this before or if he’s the first.
Before the couch even touches him, Jensen’s half hard, and he feels his face
heat up in shame. Jared’s been fucking more girls in the pool house lately and
fucking Jensen’s face less. He can feel his heart break, brittle and dry like
twigs, snapping with every rejection. He wishes he could be a girl, be whatever
Jared wanted, whatever Jared would actually fuck. He’s wondered more than once
if Jared got him that cheerleading outfit just to pretend he’s a girl. If the
only way Jared can get hard is by imagining that Jensen doesn’t have a dick.
He’s also starting to wonder if he’s getting too tall, too old for Jared to
pretend as much anymore. If that’s why Jared’s pulling away.
Coach Jackson’s hands are kneading higher up Jensen’s thighs, sliding inside
the ridge of hipbone, stopping just shy of Jensen’s erection.
“It’s ok if this happens,” the coach says, the first time he’s ever
acknowledged Jensen being hard. “It’s not uncommon. Especially in a boy your
age.”
His hands brush the edge of Jensen’s dick, teasingly, and Jensen goes from
comfortably warm to fully hard in two seconds, throbbing pleasure-pain poking
up the front of his briefs.
“Turn over, sweet boy,” Coach Jackson gently requests, hands on Jensen’s torso
to help him flip. Then, almost a whisper, “Let me see that beautiful ass.”
Jensen makes a choked sound, nervous and thrilled as the coach sheds all
pretense, groping Jensen as he flips onto his belly.
“There you go,” the coach purrs, sliding his hands under the band of Jensen’s
briefs and palming his ass. “Come on, it’s ok. I know how much you want to get
off. I know what you are, what you need. I’ve heard the other boys talking
about you.” His hands push harder against Jensen’s ass, making him rock against
the table, and Jensen gasps at the friction it puts on his cock.
“Such a pretty little twink slut,” Coach Jackson says reverently. Something
warm and wanted glows in Jensen’s chest, although he immediately feels sick at
himself for reacting that way. He can’t seem to help it, though, every bit the
slut that the football team players had smirked at him in the hallway last year
and sharpied onto his locker. “Come on,” the coach says again, hands rocking
encouragingly against Jensen’s ass, and Jensen suddenly realizes what the man
wants, his face going hotter with humiliation.
He still does what Coach Jackson is encouraging him to do, pumps his hips back
and forth, humping the table and almost crying from shame and lust.
Fingers press harder into Jensen’s ass as the coach takes more liberties, both
hands kneading, thumbs skating along the edge of his crack. Jensen starts
whimpering, which just encourages the man more. Jensen can feel his thick
finger sliding between his cheeks, faintly brushing against the edge of Jared’s
hole.
“No no no,” he gasps, because he can’t do this, still needs Jared to be his
first. But Coach Jackson shushes him, one hand moving to rub Jensen’s naked
back.
“As much as I want to sink down into this tight ass, I won’t. Not today. But…
if you’ll let me have a taste…”
The coach puts a hand over Jensen’s back, steadying himself, then jumps onto
the table, straddling Jensen. The table rocks hard, and for a moment Jensen
worries that it’s going to break. The legs, however, are thick and strong, and
once the coach gets settled, it stays sturdy.
The back of Jensen’s underwear is pushed down, and Coach Jackson hooks his
thumbs underneath the band, exposing Jensen’s ass to the open air. Jensen
continues humping into the table, unable to stop.
He almost jumps when he feels Coach Jackson’s cock press against the ridge of
his ass, whimpering high and protesting, but the coach shushes him again.
“Just like this,” he reassures Jensen, rocking against his ass, letting his
cock ride the crack up and down. “Just want to feel you, sweet boy. Keep moving
for me, Jensen. Fuck that table like the pretty slut you are.”
Jensen’s suddenly so close, so fucking close, and he feels so completely and
utterly used and filthy, revels in his own degradation.
“You about to come?” Coach asks, voice suddenly strained. “Fuck harder, baby
boy, cream against the table, let me hear you.”
Jensen keens louder, thrusts turning uncoordinated, hands clawing at the edge
of the table as he grunts into a loud completion, dick spurting wet and sticky
inside his briefs.
While Jensen’s hiccuping through the end of it, Coach Jackson’s fingers tighten
around the base of Jensen’s ass, thumbs still hooked into Jensen’s underwear as
the coach spurts across his ass and back, cock digging hard at the cleft of
Jensen’s ass while the coach breathes hard, legs squeezed tight around Jensen’s
thighs.
“Fuck, fuck,” the man curses, breathing hard, groaning and leaning back. “Fuck,
sweetness, I just came harder than I’ve come in my life. You’re so fucking
perfect, fucking made for someone to just sink into and fuck you dirty.”
As soon as they catch their breaths, the coach jumps off to get a towel and
clean them both up. He kisses Jensen on the mouth, quick, just a hint of
tongue, then tiredly smiles and tells Jensen to head on home.
Jensen opens the office door with a quick heave then stops in shock, eyes
flying wide open.
“J-jared.”
Jared is standing in the hallway, jaw tight and eyes angry, and Jensen has no
doubt that he’d heard everything.
For a moment, Jensen thinks that Jared’s going to storm inside the office,
choke the coach out, kill him by any means possible.
But instead, Jared grabs Jensen by the arm, hard enough to bruise, and drags
him down the hallway, every step a stomp.
Jensen tries to apologize but Jared shushes him, tells him to shut up, seething
and angry until they’re halfway home, until they’re in an alleyway behind a
liquor store. Jensen’s confused, but he’s not about to ask any questions, not
while Jared’s like this. To the side of the alleyway is an old Honda, parked
near the back entrance.
Stooping in front of the big metal trash can, Jared picks up a broken metal
pipe and swings it against the car window, shattering it so glass shards fly
everywhere,then does the same to all the remaining windows. He beats the side
of the car until the frame is all bent-up bruises and torn-open pieces, red and
clear glass scattered around the gravel.
Patiently, Jensen waits for Jared to finish, knowing that saying anything or
trying to stop him would not end well.
Finally, after the car is not much more than scrap metal, Jared stops and
throws the pipe against the wall, chest heaving in exertion. He walks over to
Jensen, still panting.
“Jared, I didn’t–” Jensen begins, but Jared puts a hand up, effectively
stopping whatever apology Jensen was about to get out. Jensen’s eyes miserably
fall to the ground, he doesn’t know what he was thinking, he doesn’t know why
he let that go on for as long as it did. But Jared hooks a finger under his
chin and tilts Jensen’s head back up, making him look Jared in the eye.
“It’s ok,” he huffs, almost kindly. “You can’t help being a slut.”
Jensen’s pulse quickens, unsure where Jared’s going with this.
“But there are lines, Jensen,” Jared warns, reaching down to grab Jensen’s
hand, twisting their fingers together, squeezing painfully. “You know you
belong to me.”
Tears spring to Jensen’s eyes, and he wants to ask Jared why, whyif he belongs
to Jared, why won’t Jared fuck him. But he doesn’t say anything, throat too
tightly constricted to get any words out. Instead he just nods because he does
know. He belongs to Jared.
Yanking Jensen against him, Jared kisses him rough and hard, biting at Jensen’s
lips punishingly, leaving bruises and marks across his neck.
Jensen knows he got off easy.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~THEN~ 16, 14
During Jensen’s sophomore year of high school, he found himself taken in by the
student council crowd: straight-A students who were all involved in at least
five clubs each, a mixture of cheerleaders and mathletes, drama kids and
baseball players, all connected by their high, overachieving standards, and
almost all of them involved in student council. Jensen wasn’t really any of
those things, but he could fake it well enough to be accepted.
It was Danneel that originally took him in. They had French together and were
paired up for a semester-long project. Danneel was smart and confident, and
most of their work days were spent alternating between her gently teasing him
and completing their project. She was also unaware or unconcerned by all the
rumors that had followed Jensen up from middle school.
After teasing Jensen one day about his long bowlegs, Danneel looked at him
thoughtfully and asked him if he’d ever consider joining the cheerleading
squad. He was slim but strong, and she’d seen him on the day he’d almost been
late to school and had to jump the back fence. The cheer team was perpetually
short on boys, and one of the guys had to sit out for a few months because of a
badly twisted ankle.
“I-I don’t think so,” Jensen stammered back. But Danneel threw him a perfect
smile and put a warm hand on his arm.
“Please,” she wheedled. “We could really use another guy. And I’ve seen the way
you move in P.E., I have a feeling you’d be a natural. If you really hate it,
you never have to come again, but would you consider coming to our next
practice?”
It was hard to say ‘no’ to Danneel, not when she’d been one of the closest
things to a friend Jensen had had since coming up to high school alone.
Hesitantly, he agreed to a trial run.
The rest of the girls cooed over him the first day, accepting him with such
enthusiasm that he forgot for a moment how lonely he was without Jared. And he
was surprised how much he actually enjoyed dancing and cheering.
The uniform was the typical guy-version of the girls outfits: plain black pants
and a blue and silver slim-fitting top with sleeves. Jensen didn’t think it was
anything special, but somehow it attracted the attention of the Varsity
football players who were practicing on the field the same time the
cheerleaders used the track space for their own practice just before a game.
The boys jogged past Jensen the first day, heads whipping around to see the new
male cheerleader, faces curious and smirky.
On the first water break, the football players stood around the cooler, sipping
water and watching Jensen move in formation and cheering alongside his female
counterparts.
He flinched at the first cat-call whistle, trying not to lose his concentration
as they started yelling taunts at him.
“Fuck, look at the ass on the new girl.”
“Bet those legs would look even better in one of those short skirts.”
“Shame he’s in the middle of all that pussy and probably goes for dick.”
Jensen didn’t know if the coaches didn’t hear or didn’t care. The girls shot
the team a few glares and bitched at them between moves, but it didn’t stop
until the boys were called back onto the field to start practicing blocks.
Within a week it had turned into a game for the team, trying to get a rise out
of Jensen, calling him names, making the dirtiest, lewdest comments when the
coach was out of earshot and miming blow jobs at him whenever they walked by.
The hallways became a dangerous place once they figured out Jensen’s schedule.
They pinched his ass and sometimes tried to grope his crotch when it was
especially crowded during passing periods. He came to his locker more than once
to find SLUT written across the front in permanent marker. The janitorial crew
tried scrubbing it off, but it was often replaced the same day, different
handwriting most of the time. The administration pulled Jensen into their
office once to ask if he knew who was doing it, but he just shook his head,
refusing to give them up, refusing to even care about pursuing the matter.
The attention made him uncomfortable. It also, however, made him hard. He knew
he was a slut, couldn’t help how bad he wanted a dick in him, and with Jared
refusing to let things progress beyond blow jobs, Jensen was frustrated and
needy all the time.
He’d daydream in class sometimes, thinking about Jared fucking him across his
desk or riding him in the teacher’s chair. But he also wondered what it would
be like to have the entire football team hold him down and gangbang him in the
locker room. He shivered as he thought about how they’d use him, mouth sore
after being face-fucked and choked on seventeen different dicks, face covered
in come, his own cock hard and purple.
Of course, in his darkest daydreams, Jared always came. He’d shove his way past
the players, demanding that everyone back off because that ass was his. Then
he’d tear Jensen’s shorts off, pry his cheeks open, and fuck hard and fast
while Jensen continued to blow and jerk off every guy that stepped in front of
him.
He never told Jared about the harassment, though. He knew Jared well enough to
understand that would be a very bad idea.
Some of the players just enjoyed preying on the weak. A few let their hands
linger a bit longer, shoved against him in the hallways until he could feel
their hard-ons when they walked by. But only one really tried something.
David Whittier.
He was the varsity wide-end receiver and instigated the worst of the
harassment. He’d wait around Jensen’s locker at least once a week, just to
whisper all the dirty things he wanted to do to Jensen’s mouth and ass.
“I bet you’ve got the pinkest asshole,” David murmured quietly into Jensen’s
ear from just over his shoulder. “Do you shove your fingers in it at night,
fucking yourself on spit and fingers until it’s shiny and open, wishing you had
a dick like mine to shove inside?”
Jensen tried to grab his books quickly and get away, but David blocked him in,
waiting until passing period was almost over, until they were the only people
in the hallway. He chuckled at Jensen's discomfort, hand under Jensen’s chin
while he waited for the last student to disappear around the corner. Then he
reached further up to pinch Jensen’s jaw and slipped the finger from his other
hand between Jensen’s open mouth, rubbing down the back of Jensen's tongue
until Jensen started gagging.
“Yeah,” David said triumphantly, walking away backwards and watching Jensen
bent over making coughing noises to the ground. “Bet you’d be so tight. You
still a virgin, Ackles? Because I don’t think that ass is gonna last the year.”
By the time Jensen cleared out his windpipe, David was in class and Jensen was
late.
                               _________________
During the last semester of middle school, Jared often ditched classes to visit
Jensen. He didn’t do it too often – new academic reputation to uphold, after
all – but often enough. He also somehow managed to never get caught.
More often than not, Jared would just meet him for lunch, often after scouting
out an empty classroom where Jensen could suck his dick.
It worried Jensen that Jared would somehow find out about the football team
(the season was over, but the main group still stuck together), but Jared never
came to any of his cheerleading practices. And since Jared usually texted
Jensen where to meet him, Jensen didn’t think Jared even knew where his locker
was.
Jared came late one day, just after lunch, walking into Jensen’s Environmental
Science class with a yellow slip tucked between his fingers. There was a soft
smirk on his lips as he handed the paper to the teacher, who had been in the
middle of an alternative energy lecture.
Professor Sheppard gave it a cursory look then looked over at Jensen and
announced in his low British accent, “You’re being summoned to the front
office, Mr. Ackles.”
There was a pleased slant to Jared’s almond-shaped eyes as he turned to look at
Jensen, walking over to help Jensen gather up his things so they could leave.
“Hey, professor, I got a riddle for you,” Jared said as they headed towards the
exit. Professor Sheppard looked at Jared, eyebrow raised, expectant and
waiting.
“What’s the difference between marmalade and jam?”
The man looked thoughtful for a moment, and Jensen could see most of the class
looking either confused or uninterested.
“Other than the American penchant for changing the classification of perfectly
good words,” Professor Sheppard finally answered after a few seconds, “I do not
know. Tell me.”
Chuckling, Jared just tugged Jensen out of the classroom, and Jensen caught
sight of Professor Sheppard rolling his eyes at that non-answer just before the
door shut.
“Come on,” Jared said softly, grabbing Jensen by the hand and leading him away.
“I’ve got a test–” Jensen started to say, but Jared tugged him hard enough to
make Jensen shut up.
“You really think this shit place is going to teach you anything?” Jared
snorted. “All they care about is cranking out a factory belt of banker managers
and housewives. We’re not staying in this town forever, so fuck your perfect
attendance.”
Naturally, Jared had already managed to pick the lock of a dark, empty
classroom and pulled Jensen inside. Usually Jared immediately shoved Jensen
against the wall, hands and mouth and teeth going everywhere. But he didn’t do
that this time. Instead, he gave Jensen another wry little smirk and told him
to go sit on the teacher’s desk.
Nervously, Jensen walked over and gingerly propped himself up the side, careful
not to disturb the neatly-stacked piles on the teacher’s desk.
“Shove all that shit to the floor,” Jared directed, eyes narrowed. For a
second, Jensen thought about carefully setting everything on the floor, but he
knew by the way Jared was looking at him what the boy expected. So, taking a
deep breath, Jensen put his arm out and swept it across the desk, knocking
everything down. Pens, papers, and a coffee mug fell to the ground with a large
crash while papers fluttered around, caught in their own cross breeze and
weaving back and forth to the ground.
Grinning in approval, Jared slung off his backpack, unzipping the front so he
could pull something out that was wrapped in a towel. He walked closer, pencils
snapping and papers crunching under his shoes.
“Strip for me.” Jared’s smile was big enough to tease out his dimples, light
indentations in his cheek.
A shiver crawled up Jensen’s spine, dick quickly hardening as he started
pulling off his own clothes, Jared watching intently.
Jared reached out to run a hand down Jensen’s chest, petting at the skin and
tweaking at the nipples. “You’re getting so big,” Jared murmured, frowning for
a second. But his lips quirked again after a second, and he leaned in to press
his lips down Jensen’s belly, one hand lightly brushing against Jensen’s cock.
“Turn around,” he said, voice muffled against Jensen’s hip. “Turn around and
spread your ass open.”
A sharp inhale jumped up Jensen’s throat, heart thudding as he wondered if this
was how he lost his virginity, if Jared was going to finally stop teasing and
pop Jensen’s cherry. Pulse rushing, Jensen quickly turned to do as Jared
commanded, toes pointed to the floor as he bent himself across the desk and
reached back to hold his cheeks apart.
Jared’s fingers were there immediately, circling and rubbing at Jensen’s hole,
softening the clench until he was easily able to slip a finger inside.
“Sluttiest hole in the entire town,” Jared said approvingly. “Wants to be
stuffed so bad.” He added another finger, nudging in and out, working smoothly
until he was able to add a third. Jensen made a soft appreciative sound, hips
rocking into the motion, hands clenched around the desk edge above his head.
“You figure out the riddle yet?” Jared asked, voice dark and rough.
Unable to answer, unable to think straight, Jensen shook his head. He could
hear his pulse thudding in his throat. He heard Jared laughing softly.
“You can’t marmalade your dick into someone.”
The punchline barely registered, not with everything else going on. The sound
of a plastic cap being opened echoed from behind Jensen, and half a second
later, he felt something hard pressing against his hole. As soon as it started
easing in, Jensen could feel disappoint register that it wasn’t Jared’s dick,
although he only had half a second to muse before the aching, stuffed feeling
forced out all other thoughts.
“That’s right, baby,” Jared purred, still pushing down. “Got you a toy. I know
how bad you want something fucked inside.” Jensen had to adjust his stance a
few times, pushed up onto his tiptoes, trying to find the best angle as Jared
forced more inside, resting one hand on Jensen’s hip as he screwed it in
deeper. When it was almost all in, Jensen moved and immediately gasped as the
toy pressed something good inside, making him buck up while trying to keep it
angled there.
“Please,” Jensen gasped out, hardly aware of speaking. “Please Jared. Keep
going, fuck me, want you inside, want everything.”
Jared’s other hand was still gripped tight around Jensen’s hip, and he scooted
in closer, holding on tighter as he started forcing the dildo in faster and
harder, slamming Jensen up and down the table with the force.
Jensen was practically crying with how much he liked being filled, thighs
widened as far as they could go because he wanted to feel everything. “Yes,
yes,” he choked out, mind black and staticy, lotion dripping down his legs. He
dick was trapped between his belly and the table, caught between the force and
almost hurting from all the friction.
Jensen wasn’t surprised at how much of a slut he was. But he had no idea how
much he’d love being used like this, being completely filled, having someone
fuck inside and refuse to ease up, drive in so hard and fast that it hurt.
Jensen came hard, spunk squelching underneath his belly while Jared kept
rocking him into his own mess until Jensen finally collapsed. He was exhausted
and aching, tears tracking down the sides of his face, dick rubbed raw. Jared
finally pulled the dildo out with a loud, wet sound and tossed it the side,
leaned over Jensen so he could nuzzle into the side of his face, pressing
kisses against Jensen’s temple.
“Knew you’d like it,” Jared said, but it was more fondness than triumph. He
backed up and gently nudged Jensen off the table. “Need you to do one more
thing,” Jared said, looking so intent and hopeful that Jensen just nodded.
Jared’s fingers brushed against Jensen’s mouth, stretching the bottom lip out
as he softly said, “Lick it up.”
Whimpering, Jensen bent back down, opened his mouth and pushed his tongue
through the mess. He swirled his tongue around, feeling deliciously dirty while
Jared kept a hand on his arm, thumb rubbing pleased circles around his bicep.
When he finished, Jared pushed Jensen down so he was sitting on the table then
kissed the taste of come out of Jensen’s mouth, tongue slipping inside, fingers
running up and down Jensen’s bare chest.
There was just enough time for Jensen to blow Jared, kneeling between his
thighs while Jared sat in the teacher’s chair and called Jensen a “good slutty
boy” and “top cocksucker in the class.”
Jensen found the dildo in the backpack later, tucked inside his environmental
science notebook, stuck to the pages, lotion soaked through and ruining a
week’s worth of notes. He had to tear out the paper and soak it all under the
sink until the pages unstuck into a gloppy mess.
He used it at least once a week, sharped Jared’s name on the side. But it
didn’t make him stop thinking about Jared’s dick.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~NOW~ 18, 15
Practice is cancelled for a week after the news breaks that Coach Johnson died.
The school would have preferred to keep the details quiet, but it’s all over
the local media: “Local Baseball Coach Dies in Gym Shower”. Rumors start
circulating about the coach dying in the school showers, but those are quickly
squelched by anyone who had bothered to read the article. Coach Johnson had
been stabbed to death at a public fitness gym, bleeding to death near the drain
and left for hours until his wife had called, worried and anxious because he
hadn’t yet come home.
A question has been on the tip of Jensen’s tongue all week. His tongue,
however, was more often than not busy being wrapped around Jared’s dick,
sucking him off more often and in riskier spots than usual. Jared couldn’t seem
to sit still that week, cutting classes more than normal, sometimes inviting
Jensen along, sometimes not.
Jared grabs Jensen before English one day and has him drive them both downtown,
refusing to tell Jensen why until they arrived at the destination.
Jensen’s heart jumps when he parks and realizes they’re in front of the tattoo
shop they’d visited before. His only tattoo is still on his arm, although no
one else has seen it since he keeps it carefully covered with t-shirt sleeves.
He hopes Jared doesn’t pick a place that’s harder to keep hidden this time.
He can see the tattoo artist from before in the back of the shop, cleaning
instruments, and he smirks at them when they come in. He leans over to the next
station where a co worker is in the middle of a job, nodding towards Jared and
Jensen while saying something Jensen can’t hear. The second guy quickly walks
over, a dark, hungry look on his face when he quietly leans down to tell the
front counter guy something.
“Sure thing, Ty,” the man answers before the man walks back to finish his
current job.
When it’s finally their turn, Ty gives Jensen a hungry smirk as Jensen slides
into the chair and tells him to take off his shirt.
“What’ll it be?” he asks. Jared hands him a piece of paper and Ty nods
thoughtfully. “You mind if I clean up the design?” he asks Jared. “Make it look
a little more artistic?”
“I don’t give a shit how you draw it, just as long as the concept is the same,”
Jared answers.
A wry grin crosses Ty’s mouth, and he nods a bit. “Tell you what,” he says,
leaning in, voice low. “You give me a show like you did to my coworker, and
I’ll do this one for free.”
“Got a thing for underage boys?” Jared mocks while Ty shrugs, completely
unashamed. Chuckling, Jared glances at Jensen, throwing him a quick wink. “You
wanna watch, be my guest. You know where to find us.”
“We got a room in the back,” Ty offers, but Jared shakes his head.
“Nah. Jensen likes getting dirty,” Jared says.
Jensen squirms in the chair, both turned on and mortified. God, he’s such a
freak. He doesn’t mind being watched, not really, although part of him is still
disgusted with himself. He never minds in the moment the things Jared makes him
do, the things Jared says to him, but he’s always horribly ashamed later.
The needle hurts even more, maybe because Jensen’s not drunk this time. He
whimpers a little after the first hour, when all his skin starts to throb.
Thankfully, Ty takes a break, turning off the needle and telling Jared to look
after his boy for a few minutes while he takes a stretch break.
Jared climbs onto Jensen’s lap, kissing his chest and telling Jensen how pretty
he looks when he’s in pain. “You got this baby,” Jared whispers, mouth on
Jensen’s throat. “Doing so good for me.”
A cough behind Jared makes them both look up to see Ty standing there, flask in
hand.
“Thought you might want some liquid courage to get you through the rest,” he
says, and after Jared nods, Ty brings it to Jensen’s lips, tipping it forward
until the liquid rushes into his mouth. Jensen purses his lips, parting them
obscenely because he likes the way Jared and Ty are watching him, eyes tracking
the way his lips move and his throat jumps.
Ty keeps pouring until half the flask is empty then takes it back and screws
the cap back on. Jared’s thumb brushes Jensen’s mouth, wiping off a wet smear,
before he leans up and kisses Jensen hard, their hips rocking against each
other.
For a moment, Jensen thinks Jared is going to fuck him right there, but then
Jared pushes himself up and let Ty finish the job while he pets Jensen’s arm
and tells him how fucking hot he looks sitting there, taking the pain like
that.
The design is on Jensen’s forearm this time, so he watches it come together as
Ty drives the needle into his skin. The outline is done quickly, long handled
object with a smaller round shape next to it. About halfway through, Jensen
realizes what it is: a baseball bat and ball.
Ty does a nice job, too, careful stitches on the baseball and perfect shading
all around. When he finishes, Jared leans down to make out with Jensen, careful
of his bandage while running his hands up and down Jensen’s bare chest.
Before it goes too far, Jared pushes himself out of the chair along with Jensen
and nudges him out the door, both of them stumbling into the back alley while
Ty quietly follows.
“You like it, huh, having some perv watching you like this?” Jared says while
shoving Jensen against the wall and biting up his shoulder. “Fuck baby, you
drive me so god damn crazy. What do you want him to watch you do? You want me
to shove on you on the ground and eat you out all wet and sloppy? You want him
to see how puffy your lips get when you blow my dick? You wanna sit on my face
so I can suck you off until you cry?”
It’s difficult to make his brain work while Jared mouths up Jensen’s neck, but
Jensen manages to take a deep breath and shake out, “Want you to fuck me.”
Jared chuckles against Jensen’s chin and nips it playfully. “Not happening,
baby. Gotta pick door number two.”
It’s disappointing but not surprising, and Jensen sighs. “Want… you to use my
mouth.”
Jared pulls back to thumb at Jensen’s mouth. “Alright, Jen. Open up and I’ll
shove in until you choke.”
Falling to his knees, Jensen opens his mouth, waiting patiently while Jared
undoes his own belt. As soon as his cock is free, Jared grabs it and runs it
along Jensen’s mouth, outlining the shape of his lips before slipping it down
Jensen’s throat.
Jensen’s experienced enough not to choke, but he knows what Jared wants, what
kind of show they’re putting on. He lets his throat constrict a bit more,
swallowing tightly until he’s making cut-off, gagging sounds while spit tracks
down the side of his mouth. He can see Ty watching out of the corner of his
eye, dick out of his pants while he fists it tightly, eyes hard on them both.
When Jared’s close, he grabs Jensen’s head and pumps his hips forward in sharp,
fast snaps, yanking Jensen’s mouth closer until he can feel Jared’s balls
against his chin and Jensen’s choking noises aren’t quite so fake anymore.
“That’s it, baby, take it all, choke it down, my fucking–” Jared’s word cut off
as he moans loudly, fingers tight in Jensen’s hair while he shoots down
Jensen’s throat, so deep that Jensen can’t even taste his come.
They’re making out slowly against the wall when Ty steps closer and hoarsely
asks, “How much to use that pretty mouth?”
Jared pulls back far enough to give Jensen a look, eyebrow crooked up. Jensen
gives a tiny shake to his head, eyes wide.
“Sorry man,” Jared tells Ty, fingers underneath Jensen’s shirt as he plays with
his nipples. “This bitch isn’t for sale.”
Ty looks like he wants to argue further, but he shuts his mouth tightly
instead, probably knowing that if he pushes too hard, he’ll never see them
again.
“Come back anytime,” he says instead, and he tucks his softening cock back into
his pants just before going inside.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~THEN~ 16, 14
Jared’s dad occasionally attempted to groom his son into the family business.
He took him on a few stateside and international trips, usually for a week or
two at a time. Jared didn’t really mind being involved in the work, but he
hated being away. He’d sneak into Jensen’s house as soon as he got back,
stealing a can of Dr. Pepper from the fridge and laying himself out on Jensen’s
bed to wait. He usually swiped a few matchbooks from whatever place they’d
stayed at and he’d sit on Jensen’s bed and light each match one-by-one,
dropping the smoldering remnants in the half-drunk soda can just to hear the
hiss.
When Jensen got home from school, he could hear the tiny wet matchstick snaps
as he walked up the stairs, heart pounding by the time he opened the door
because he knew what to expect. The room smelled like sugar and smoke when he
opened the door, and Jared would turn to look at Jensen in the doorway,
lighting the rest of the matches in one quick flick, flames jumping high above
his fingers.
As soon as Jensen crossed the room, Jared would throw the burning matches into
the metal wastebasket by the bed, burning up whatever was inside and ignoring
the small fire as he encouraged Jensen to settle between his thighs for a slow
blow job. The smoke detector in Jensen’s room had been disabled a long time
ago, batteries slipped into Jared’s pocket whenever they thought to replace it.
During one of Jared’s trips towards the end of the school year, Jensen decided
to take the opportunity to put a stop to his harassment by the football team
for good. He’d been feeling guilty over it for a long time, knowing that part
of him liked it even if he still hated the worst of his tormentors.
A plan had been in formation for a while, and as soon as Jared was gone (to
Rome, so Jensen knew it was a week away minimum), he set it into motion.
He wore a soft, form-fitting tee to school that day, one that made his nipples
stand out, along with a pair of skinny jeans that David had seemed to
appreciate just a month ago, hands unable to keep themselves off Jensen’s ass.
David sniffed him out before the day was over, following Jensen into the
library during lunch and pressing against him into the back of the reference
section. This time, Jensen leaned back into David, subtly rocking his hips.
“So… you wanna fuck me,” Jensen said breathlessly, letting his hand trail along
David’s arm. “You wanna know how good it would feel to sink into this ass?”
A smirk twitched on David’s mouth, although Jensen could feel a tiny shiver
roll up his arm. “You finally offering up that sweet ass?” he asked. “You gonna
play a whore for me?”
“Come over and find out,” Jensen replied, reaching between them to run a soft
hand down the front of David’s pants. He felt a wave of satisfaction when
David’s breath stuttered, his eyes briefly rolled back. Jensen pushed a piece
of paper in David’s pocket with his address and phone number written on it.
“Seven o'clock, tonight,” Jensen whispered before he walked away.
                            _______________________
David was right on time. Jensen had been keeping watch and went down to meet
David before he even had a chance to knock on the door.
“Come on,” Jensen said, leading David down the side of the Padalecki’s lawn and
through the gate. “Neighbors are out of town and I have a key to their pool
house.”
“Do this often?” David said, trying to smirk but not quite managing it. He was
obviously nervous, which Jensen enjoyed.
Before opening the pool house door, Jensen turned to David, face serious. “I’ll
suck you off and let you stick your dick anywhere you want… except in my ass.
You try that, and I’ll cut it off.”
“Feral little minx,” David commented wryly. Shrugging, he continued, “If that’s
what you want. As long as I get off, I’m good.”
David was every bit as aggressive as Jensen had imagined. He tried not to enjoy
it, but something about being used and thrown around always riled up the
dirtiest, horniest reactions in him. Although David never touched Jensen’s ass,
he did slap him around, shoved his cock deep down Jensen’s throat, and called
him every version of ‘slut’ he could think of.
“You like fucking around with boys?” Jensen asked, breathing hard on the bed,
belly covered in come. “You ever do this before?”
“Once,” David admitted with a chuckle. “Eighth grade, Ryan Crawley. Traded blow
jobs at lunch. There’s just something more satisfying about throwing around a
guy, sticking your cock down his throat, better than any girl.”
“I can’t say I know the difference,” Jensen admitted.
“Well, with those lips of yours, it’s not really all that different,” David
said with a wink.
He left soon after that, although he rolled over Jensen and made out with him
before leaving. He was a pretty good kisser, Jensen had to admit, although he
really just wanted David to leave.
David left so cheerfully Jensen almost felt bad about what he was going to do.
But it was much better than what Jared would do if he ever found out.
He waited until lunchtime the next day to send a text to David, complete with
attachment. Jensen watched him from across the cafeteria and saw the moment
David opened the attachment and watched the video clip. As soon as he figured
out what it was, he shot Jensen a look of panic mixed with anger and quickly
texted back:
You fucking bitch. You filmed us last night???
Jensen shrugged and texted back.
                                 Yeah. You want me to send you the whole video?
                                                I’ve got a few copies backed up
What do you want?
                                                  Nothing. Just leave me alone.
                                        No more shoving me against the lockers.
                                              No more harassing me at practice.
                                    And get your friends to leave me alone too.
FINE. But if that video gets out,
I will fucking kick your ass. You’ll be dead.
                                                    You’d never get the chance.
                              But leave me alone, and I’ll keep this to myself.
David glared at Jensen and moved away every time they passed in the hall, but
the harassment and name-calling stopped that week. Jensen felt extraordinarily
guilty about filming in Jared’s pool house, but he didn’t want to risk his
parents finding out. Especially his father.
He wondered later if Jared had managed to find out, if it was the reason Jared
fucked girls in the pool house where Jensen could see, if it was maybe even the
reason Jared wouldn’t fuck him.
Part of Jensen figures he deserves this torture.
                                  [Matches] 
                                 ~NOW~ 18, 16
After Jensen graduates, not too many things change. In spite of everything that
happened with Coach Johnson, Jensen still wants to be be a Sports Therapist. He
takes courses at the local community college because he knows he could never
leave Jared behind. Through his connections with the coaches and staff, Jensen
manages to get a part-time job working with the school PT.
He also continues working for Jeff and walking Bisou.
Jensen loves when Jeff’s out of town. He has the whole house to himself, and
he’s taken advantage of it more than once. Jeff has a beautiful house, and
Jensen’s in love with his master bathroom, which is gigantic and luxurious.
Jeff had once or twice casually mentioned that Jensen was more than welcome to
hang out, eat some food, watching TV, hell, take a shower if he wanted.
He peels off his clothes as he walks from the bedroom door to the bathroom,
leaving a bread-crumb trail of socks and shirt and underwear. The knobs to the
tub are turned to make the water pleasantly hot, and he flicks on the switch
for the bubbles and jets, water swirling inside the over-sized tub. There’s
barely a sound when Jensen slips inside the just-under-scalding water, a faint
burble of water splashing against the rim of the porcelain. His skin instantly
brightens, soaks up a heat-induced flush that makes him feel sweaty and warm.
When he hears Bisou barking excitedly downstairs, Jensen figures there’s
another squirrel in the backyard or Mrs. Thomas is walking her dalmatian, Lucy,
past the house again. It isn’t until he hears the faint creak of the bedroom
door being pushed open that he realizes he’s not alone, and he startles, soapy
washcloth falling into the water as he whirls towards the opening into the
bedroom.
Jeff’s standing in the doorway. Mouth open, stunned into silence. He’s blinking
at the naked boy in his bathtub, eyelids fluttering slow and confused. There’s
a bottle of beer in his hand and a sheen to his eyes that suggests it’s not his
first drink today.
Jensen should be embarrassed - and he is. He can feel heat creep up his neck,
temperature fluctuating between the bathwater and his own flushed skin. But
this also feels like something he’s been waiting for. A moment to test a
theory. Holding Jeff’s gaze, Jensen slowly trails his hand down - down his
dripping, smooth chest, down his wet belly, grazing the ginger line of his
happy trail. The pulse in Jeff’s pupils when Jensen’s fingertips touch the edge
of his prick confirms what Jensen had hoped for, and leans back, trying to give
the man a better view as he grinds his soapy cock into his hand.
Jeffrey’s mouth moves, and Jensen thinks that it’s his name whisper-slurring
across the bathroom tiles. It’s probably wrong to take advantage of the man
this way, brain oversaturated with alcohol, flooded with pleasure-inducing
dopamine and slowed down by various receptors being hot-wired by ethanol
molecules. Jensen knows he’s the man’s type - if the DVDs he’d found weeks ago
in Jeff’s room are any indication. Movies filled with soft, slutty twinks with
cock-sucking lips and a daddy complex.
Because he can’t go five minutes without thinking about him, Jared slips into
his mind, fishhooks into the part of Jensen’s brain that knows that the kind of
life Jeff has could never be in the cards for him. But for one hysterical
second, Jensen wonders what it would be like to deserves a life like this.
Normal, safe, successful. He wants what Jeff has, wants to be someone Jeff
could be with. Jared doesn’t have to know about it. It’s not like Jensen’s
proposing to the man or anything.
Shutting off everything except the way Jeff’s looking at him - like Jensen’s
some kind of feast or offering, all laid out on an altar just for him - Jensen
puts on a lazy, slow smile. He becomes someone else for a moment.
“Come here,” Jensen coaxes, shifting his hips while his thumb draws circles
around his own cock.
He wonders if this is how Jared felt with all those girls in his pool house,
flashing just enough teeth to let them know they were prey while simultaneously
pretending that they weren’t there to get devoured. Jensen knows he’s a
different kind of predator; more nectar-luring Venus Fly Trap than flesh-
tearing wolf. But the end result will be the same: Jeffrey caught and swallowed
whole.
Jeff hesitates in the doorway, wavering even with the still-metabolizing
alcohol altering his brain functions. But Jensen’s fairly certain that Jeff’s
moral compass is cracking; that it wouldn’t take much to shatter whatever self-
control he’s white-knuckling in his fist like it means anything.
Standing up, Jensen can feel rivulets of water running down his thighs and
dripping from his fingertips; he smiles when he sees the way Jeff’s staring at
all his naked skin. “I’m legal,” he reminds the man, all persuasive and low. It
feels like a siren call, sugar and semen promises from a pink-cheeked, virgin
boy.
A wry, ironic grin quirks up a corner of Jeff’s mouth, and he scrubs a hand
across the scruff on his chin. “Barely,” he mutters back. “Fuck, Jensen, you
can’t - ” Sighing, Jeff shakes his head. “Your mother would kill me. Your
father would… ” He doesn’t finish his last sentence, both unsure about how much
Jensen’s father would care. Hell, the man might even encourage it, if he
thought it would benefit his career.
“Not if you don’t tell her,” Jensen argues back stubbornly, although he
swallows back what he should tell Jeff. How it’s not Jensen’s mother the man
should be worried about, but a dimple-cheeked boy who doesn’t like other people
touching his things. If Jensen were a good person, he’d let Jeff walk away
right now. Instead, he shivers, only half-exaggerated, and demurely asks,
“Could you at least hand me a towel?”
Frowning, Jeff narrows his eyes in justified suspicion before reaching out to
yank a bath towel off the rack. He only sways a couple times as he pads over to
Jensen, flipping the soft white cotton over his shoulders and tucking him
inside. “Minx,” he mutters, although his hands start rubbing the towel against
Jensen’s shoulders, helping him dry off against the man’s obvious better
judgement. “You’re not fooling me, kid. I know what game you’re playing at.”
Jensen thinks again about Jared, about doing things without regret. About
taking risks and getting what you want and not worrying about the consequences.
He wants to be like that, to quiet all the doubts and fears pinging through his
head all the time.
So he decides to try.
Head ducked down, Jensen reaches out and starts unbuttoning Jeff’s shirt. His
fingers don’t shake at all as they push the tiny plastic pieces through the
buttonholes, starting from the bottom and working up. When Jeff starts to back
away, Jensen grabs the edges of his half-opened shirt. “I know what you like,”
Jensen says, urgent and insistent. “Found your videos. I can… I can do that.
Whatever you want.”
Jeff is quiet, breathing hard enough that Jensen can smell the alcohol still
soaked in his mouth. Then his hands come down and cover Jensen’s. “You don’t
need to do anything like that, sweetheart. That’s not what I want.”
It feels like another rejection. But then Jeff tips up Jensen’s chin and leans
down to kiss him, arms wrapping behind Jensen as the towel falls to the floor.
“You sure about this?” Jeff mumbles between their lips, and Jensen answers by
kissing him harder, left thigh hiking up Jeff’s hip until the man takes the
hint and lifts Jensen up, hands cupped underneath his ass.
It’s different than Jensen is used to, although just as overwhelming. Where
Jared was all hard domination, Jeff savors. Mouths at every inch of Jensen’s
lips and cheeks and neck. Mumbles endearments and praises that sound so genuine
that Jensen can’t handle it, fills Jeff’s mouth with his tongue just to shut
him up.
Jeff pulls back to let Jensen hop down, telling Jensen he doesn’t trust himself
to walk him to the bedroom safely, not when he’s still a little tipsy. So
Jensen helps Jeff to the bedroom. Once there, he flops his naked self back on
the bed while Jeff stands at the foot. Face heating up at the way Jeff’s
looking down at him, Jensen scoots back and widens his legs, catching his lower
lip under his teeth as he waits.
“Fuck,” Jeff says as he kneels down, covering Jensen’s body with his own. “Do
you know how many men would kill to touch you like this?”
Jensen shivers and thinks that he knows of at least one.
Jeff takes his time, pulls Jensen apart piece by piece with his fingers and his
mouth. Slow kisses that drag like honey until he shoves his head between
Jensen’s thighs and wraps his lips around Jensen’s cock. His mouth feels so hot
that Jensen gasps and grips his legs tight around Jeff’s head, the soft insides
of his legs rubbing against Jeff’s beard, burning friction that just
intensifies the feel of Jeff sucking him off.
After a few minutes, Jeff shoves Jensen higher, curling his legs up and licking
a stripe lower, right across the pink pucker below. Jensen tries to squirm
away, but Jeff holds him tight, makes him stay there and take it until Jensen
finally relaxes, his eyes rolling back when he realizes how good it feels.
“Think you can take my fingers, sweetheart?” Jeff asks, sounding so hopeful
that Jensen bobs his head and pants out, “Yeah, yeah,” while trying not to jerk
and tighten up when Jeff’s finger slips velvet-smooth right into his spit-wet
hole. But then Jeff curls himself over Jensen and kisses him, a hard enough
distraction that Jensen can mostly ignore the odd sensation of Jeff’s fingers
rubbing inside him.
“You gonna fuck me?” Jensen asks, not sure if he’s hopeful or apprehensive.
Jeff laughs a little, turning his head so Jensen feels coarse cheeks rubbing
against his lips. He likes the gritty feel and rubs his mouth against it a few
times while Jeff’s finger crooks deep inside.
“Not tonight, Jensen,” Jeff finally answers. “Don’t wanna hurt you.” His other
hand comes up to brush a thumb against Jensen’s lower lip, tugging it down and
watching the wet muscle stretch. “But I’d love for you to open up that pretty
mouth for me. Can I stick my cock between those pink lips? Will you open up for
me?”
“God, yeah,” Jensen groans out, rocking his hips as he gets more used to the
finger inside. “Please. Want you to fuck my face.”
Jensen feels so empty when Jeff’s finger pops out, but the heavy feel of Jeff
crawling up Jensen’s body distracts him. Especially when Jeff’s thighs bracket
his head and his cock presses against Jensen’s lips, purple tip leaking as Jeff
slides it around the edge of Jensen’s mouth.
“Open up, baby,” Jeff says gently, and Jensen obliges, swallowing Jeff down
deep and humming contentedly at the guttural sounds that rumble up Jeff’s
chest. Jeff pushes himself up so he can work his cock in and out while Jensen
suppresses his gag reflex, concentrates on taking it - especially when Jeff’s
thrusts get harder. By the time Jeff paints Jensen’s face with his come, cock
spitting out thick ropes that catch in Jensen’s eyelashes, drip down his
cheeks, Jensen’s hips are undulating, his cock in desperate need of attention.
“I gotcha,” Jeff reassures Jensen, rolling off and reaching down to slide his
hands around Jensen’s cock. Jensen keens when Jeff starts jacking hard, sobs
towards the ceiling as he comes, his cock spurting across his stomach and his
hands making fists into the bedcovers.
“Shhh, it’s okay sweetheart,” Jeff soothes, kissing Jensen’s chest and stroking
his hands across Jensen’s shoulders. “So pretty like this, all strung out and
messy. Fuck. Anyone ever tell you how pretty you look all broken?”
“Yeah,” Jensen shakes out, blinking slow while Jeff chuckles and kisses his
lips.
When he catches his breath, Jensen thinks about freaking out. He can feel the
tightness in his stomach starting to gather. But before his panic manifests,
Jeff is there with a washcloth and warm hands, wiping Jensen off with a
tenderness that he may not deserve, but which feels good and soothing none-the-
less.
Jeff finishes by wiping Jensen’s face, dipping the washcloth against the groove
of Jensen’s eyes, then leaning down to press his lips against Jensen’s
forehead. God, Jeff is so sweet and warm. Jensen holds his breath and suddenly
realizes what he did.
He only hopes Jared doesn’t find out.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~THEN~ 17, 14
Danneel had taken Jensen firmly under her wing the minute she saw him. It was
ok with Jensen, it made his last year without Jared that much more bearable,
and Danneel was by far the coolest girl he’d ever met. She was pretty and
popular enough to be Prom Queen if it had ever been something she wanted, but
that had never been her style. She had a darker edge that peeked out sometimes,
a way of looking at Jensen sometimes that made him think predator and warrior
queen.
She got it into her head one that she and Jensen should have a sleepover.
Knowing Jared would throw a fit at the idea, Jensen declined until she happened
to ask on a weekend Jared was out of town with his dad for business in southern
California. Jensen wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to, but he knew Danneel
wouldn’t give up easily.
Throughout practice that Friday, Danneel kept looking over at Jensen,
contemplative and smirking. It started to make him anxious about her plans for
the night. She grabbed him as soon as practice was over, fingers twisted in his
as she led him to her car and threw their stuff inside. “You excited for
tonight?”
“I… guess so,” he said slowly. “What are we going to do?”
“Just pizza and a movie.” She tossed him a quick grin. “And, you know, whatever
we want.”
Jensen gulped back more worry. Most of the other students at school assumed he
was gay, although he had no idea why, maybe because he was quiet and didn’t go
after anyone, but it kept the girls from flirting too heavily. He really wasn’t
sure what Danneel was expecting. But she’s been going out of her way to make
him comfortable in their lunch group, at practice, and at school. He owed her a
lot, and he admired her more than a little.
Once inside, Danneel called for a pizza delivery then raided her parent’s wine
cooler for stuff they wouldn’t miss. “They’ll be out until late,” she said as
she set everything up in the livingroom. “We’ll have the place to ourselves
until after midnight, and then we can just move upstairs.”
“Okay.” Jensen accepted the chilled wine and sipped it, unable to help making a
face. It was actually his first taste of alcohol. Jared wasn’t a huge fan of
drinking, maybe because of Jensen’s dad, and honestly, Jensen wasn’t either for
the same reason. But he figured a glass or two wouldn't hurt.
Danneel put on some romantic comedy movie starring a half-naked Chris Evans and
then insisted on turning the movie into a drinking game. Amongst other rules,
she decided one sip every time Chris Evans was missing an item of clothing, one
sip every time Anna Faris made a goofy face or spoke in a weird voice, and
they’d have to chug down the rest of a glass whenever a Marvel movie star
appeared.
They were well on their way to drunk halfway through the movie.
“Okay, okay,” she said through giggles, her cheeks pink and hot. “I have to… I
have to ask. Chris Evans is hot enough that most straight guys would consider
screwing him. What do you think?”
Jensen put down his third pizza slice to shoot Danneel a bemused look. “About
what? You want to know if I think straight guys should fuck Captain America?”
“No. No.” Danneel bumped against his side with her shoulder. “I want to know if
you want to fuck him.”
Rolling his eyes, Jensen responded, “Are you asking if I'm gay? Because there’s
no way you haven’t heard the rumors.”
“I hear rumors,” she answered with a shrug. “I don’t always believe them. So
yeah, I guess I’m asking you.”
Jensen fell silent, trying to think through his muddled wine brain. But he
trusted Danneel, and he liked her enough to be honest. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t
know if… I’m gay because I’ve liked this boy since forever, and it’s just him.
Or if I was always going to be gay anyway. Either way, I am.”
“What boy do you like?” she asked, intrigued. “Does he go to school with us?”
“He’s my neighbor.” Jensen blushed a little and added, “He’s… in eighth grade
right now.”
“Fucking hell,” Danneel giggled. “Holy fuck. That’s… wow. So does he like you?”
“I don’t know,” Jensen answered, feeling his own stomach drop to admit it.
“Most of the time I think so, but sometimes… he gets all weird.”
“Aww,” she put her wine glass down to stroke his face with her hand. “I can’t
imagine that anyone would reject you. You’re such a cutie.”
Jensen tried to duck down, but she moved her fingers under his chin, not
letting go. She stared at him blearily for a minute, thinking. “So you’re not
sure?” she asked after a minute, smiling faintly. “You wanna find out?”
His belly tightened nervously. “What do you mean?”
“You wanna kiss me? Find out if you like it?” she offered.
“I… I don’t think I like you like that,” Jensen answered, cheeks burning.
“That’s okay,” she said, smiling reassuringly. “It’s not about that. It’s about
trying things, seeing what you like. Whatever you want. Do you want to try?”
In spite of himself, Jensen liked the way her fingers felt on his face, smooth
and practiced. Something about the way she looked at him made him feel like she
wasn’t some soft, fragile princess who wanted to melt into his arms. She looked
like she wanted to pin him down and eat him alive, and Jensen couldn’t help
reacting to that, wanting to submit to power and dominance.
He barely got out a quiet, “ok” before Danneel shoved him into the corner of
the couch, mouth over his, hard and intense.
“Do you know what you like?” she asked between their mouths. “Tell me.”
“I don’t… I don’t know.” He didn’t always know how to put it into words, he
just wanted to do whatever the other person wanted, loved filling some dark
need, whatever it was.
“Can I tell you what I think?” she asked, teething at his neck. He nodded
slightly, and she continued, “You look like you wanna get fucked. Pushed down
and filled up. You want it hard. You want to cry.”
Jensen could feel his blood rush because god, he did. He wanted all of that.
“Yes,” he whispered back.
She pulled away for a moment, brushing against his bruised lips with her
thumbs. “If you wanted, I could give you that,” she promised, too full of
alcohol to hide her eagerness. “I could. I’ve got a toy, I could shove you on
the floor and fuck you, Jen. Make you see stars.”
He imagined it for a moment, what it would be like to have Danneel force
herself into him, and he knew she’d be something fierce and hard. But he had to
shake his head. “Sorry. Just… I just want Jared.”
She was obviously disappointed, but she backed away and accepted it. “It’s ok.
I understand. But,” she grinned, flashing perfect teeth and laying her head
back on his shoulder, her red hair falling everywhere, “I’m not letting you
leave until you let me dress you up in my cheerleading uniform.”
***** Chapter 3 *****
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~NOW~ 18, 16
Sometime in the middle of night, Jensen’s woken up by a large bang on his
window. He’s used to Jared sneaking in at all hours, but this time sounds
different, loud and awkward, and Jensen wonders if Jared’s uncharacteristically
drunk.
He cracks open his eyes to see Jared stumbling in, less graceful than normal,
and padding over to where Jensen is lying in the bed.
“Wake up,” Jared hisses, grabbing Jensen’s face. His fingers are sticky. Jensen
immediately sits up and turns on the lamp, gasping when he sees Jared dead-on.
He’s covered in blood. It has to be blood. It’s the only thing that makes
sense, dark and wet and clotted in his clothing.
“Who…” Jensen starts shakily. He doesn’t know if he really wants to know, but
it’s disconcerting to see Jared like this, and Jensen can’t help asking, “Whose
blood is that?”
“Whose beard burn is inside your thighs?” Jared retorts tightly, and Jensen’s
stomach drops. Jensen tries to move back when Jared straddles him on the bed,
but Jared catches his face again while holding his throat with his other hand.
“I’m gonna wash up,” Jared says, thumb and fingers tightening around Jensen’s
neck, eyes going hard. “You might want to open yourself up because that’s all
the prep you’re getting tonight. Gonna fuck that ass when I get out of the
shower.” He leans into Jensen for a few more seconds until Jensen makes a short
choking sound then finally lets go and swings his legs off the bed.
As Jared walks out the hall to shower, Jensen hurries to wipe his face off with
his sheets then crawls out from under his covers and lies down on top, boxers
tossed to the floor and lube bottle in hand.
It hasn’t really hit him yet, what’s happening, what Jared’s done. Instead, he
focuses on the stretch and soft burn, fingers pushing inside and he feels like
he’s making a graveyard plot inside himself for Jared. Jensen’s body was always
made for Jared, even long after the sharpie marks with his name had faded, and
Jensen’s heart races as he wonders what it’s going to feel like when Jared
buries himself inside. When he hears the squeak of the shower turning off, he
suddenly stiffens up, nervous and worried, his hard cock bobbing over his
stomach.
Jared walks back in naked and Jensen’s eyes go wide. He knew that Jared had
been hitting the weights hard this past year, but he hadn’t really seen the
results. Even when they messed around, Jared was usually clothed or had the
zipper to his jeans split open while Jensen blew him.
There’s definition everywhere, ridges up Jared’s abs and arched around his
hips. Water is dripping from his hair and down his chest, and Jensen wants to
lick it all up. But the expression on Jared’s face stops him.
“Did you let him touch you here?” Jared asks coldly and grabs Jensen by the
thighs, yanking him forward towards the edge of the bed, hands hooked under
Jensen’s knees and tilting his ass up. He anchors Jensen’s feet on his chest
and grabs Jensen’s ass, pulling apart his cheeks and poking both index fingers
inside. “How far did you let him go?”
Jensen doesn’t know how to respond. He shakes his head, but Jared grips
Jensen’s thighs tighter and shakes Jensen hard. “Don’t lie to me.”
“H-his fingers,” Jensen admits shakily. “T-that was it. Maybe h-his mouth.”
“You couldn’t wait?” Jared’s tone is bitter, and he lets go of Jensen’s legs to
reach forward, pinching Jensen’s chin tightly between his fingers. “You almost
gave it up for some posh asshole, just like that? Were you planning on leaving
me for him, Jensen?”
Jensen’s head rocks back and forth, feeling the burn of guilty tears in his
eyes. “No. Never. I-I just… I don’t know what you want. I don’t know why you
won’t fuck me.”
Jared finally lets go of Jensen’s face, although Jensen’s certain his jaw is
going to be bruised by morning. “Alright baby,” Jared said coldly, “Is that
what you want? To get fucked like a whore?”
“Yes,” Jensen whispers, unable to help himself.
“I can give you that,” Jared promises, shoving Jensen’s thighs apart. A high
gasp grates up Jensen’s throat when Jared pushes inside, stretching Jensen
apart from the inside-out, making him feel like he’s going to burst apart from
every seam. It aches more than Jensen expected. Jared’s thicker than anything
he’s had up his ass before. It’s too much at once, but it’s exactly how Jensen
wants it, so deep he’s practically choking on Jared. He whines and jumps when
Jared lets go of his ankles to slap at Jensen’s cock, but he likes that too,
the tingling edge of pain that makes everything sharper and more intense.
Fat tears stream out the sides of Jensen’s eyes, kicked up by the sharp pain of
having his cock slapped around. He knows he’s truly the worst kind of deviant
because part of him likes it. He likes being pushed around, especially by
Jared, and he wants to be torn apart and used, re-shaped into whatever Jared
needs.
Reaching down, Jared pulls Jensen’s asscheeks further apart, watching his own
dick push in and out of Jensen’s hole.
“Fucking amazing,” he mutters, and he glances up at Jensen, stormy expression
back over his face. “Gonna fuck Jeff out of you.” Jared’s fingers press into
the stretch of Jensen’s hole where his cock is already fucking in, and Jensen
whines at the extra pressure.
“Too full,” he tries to protest, but Jared pushes harder, slipping the edges of
his fingers just inside Jensen’s hole, pressing down into the edges as he cock
pistons in and out.
Jensen’s legs flail as he tries to adjust, belly pumping up and down as he
tries to breathe into it.
“You can take it,” Jared insists. “You can.” And he leans down to kiss him.
Jensen almost sobs into the small kindness, wrapping his arms around the back
of Jared’s neck. Against his mouth, Jared whispers, “You said you were mine.
You try to leave me, you let anyone else fuck you, and you’ll both be dead.”
“I am yours,” Jensen says, gasping when he feels Jared’s hand snaking between
them to rub over his cock. “I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t ever.”
“Promise me,” Jared growls, and he straightens up so he can fuck properly
again, hand still jerking off Jensen’s cock.
God, he’s getting close, and he’s pretty sure he’s still crying, just a mess
everywhere. “I promise, I promise,” Jensen cries, rocking into Jared’s hand.
“Good.” Jared hooks his hand down to grip the base of Jensen’s cock, fingers
creating a ring around it. “You wanted to get fucked like a whore,” Jared
reminds him. “Whores don’t get to come.” He fucks in one more time, deep and
tight, shuddering as he comes inside. He shakes through it all although his
grip doesn’t waver, cutting off all of Jensen’s chances of getting off.
The pressure hurts, choking back inside Jensen’s dick, and he whines
pathetically. He doesn’t know if he likes the pain, but he likes how dirty and
cheap he feels, a warm body for Jared to use however he liked.
Jared waits until he’s sure that Jensen won’t come before letting go,
collapsing on the bed and rolling Jensen onto his chest. Jensen lays his head
down, listening to Jared’s rapid heartbeat and feeling his own pulse radiating
through the sore heat in his dick. It seems obvious now how much Jared’s grown
and filled out, and Jensen wonders how he ever missed the changes.
“You ever think maybe I wasn’t ready?” Jared asks through thick breath. “That
you’ve always been older and bigger and I just wanted a chance to catch up?”
“I don’t care about that,” Jensen answers. “I never cared. I just wanted you.”
“But I do,” Jared says, voice dropping low. “Fuck, Jensen. You know how much I
fucking need you. It’s always been you and me. So fuck you. You knew.”
“I’m sorry,” Jensen whispers, meaning it.
Jared seems placated and satisfied, and he nudges Jensen on top, fingering his
dirty, come-slick hole. “Sit on my cock, baby,” Jared says softly, and Jensen
sinks down, eyes fluttering back as Jared’s cock presses inside.
“You like that?” Jared asks, smirking darkly. Jensen nods, and Jared chuckles.
His fingers glide over Jensen’s dick, light and teasing. “How long have you
wanted this?”
“L-long time,” Jensen stutters out, reaching down to press his palms to
Jensen’s chest.
“How long?” Jared demands, pulling his hand away from Jensen’s dick. “Tell me
how long you’ve wanted my dick, baby.”
Whining, Jensen tries to get some leverage, rocking his hips in quick snaps and
figure eights. When he tries to move one hand up to touch his own cock, Jared
bats his hand away then laces his fingers inside Jensen’s, gripping tight.
“Tell me,” Jared says patiently.
“Maybe… maybe thirteen.” Jensen keeps making pathetic whines, rocking harder
and trying to get any kind of friction. “I dunno.”
“You fucking pervert.” Jared grins. “You know this is all your fault? Wanting
me like that, fucking us both up. Admit it, baby. Admit what you did and I’ll
let you come.”
“Yes, yes, M’sorry,” Jensen sobs out, not missing a beat, every guilty feeling
inside of him cracking wide open. “It’s me. My fault. M’a slut, fucking wanted
you so bad. Always.”
“I know you are, baby,” Jared says, grabbing Jensen by the back of the neck and
kissing him. “But I love you all fucked up.” He snakes a hand up to jack
Jensen’s cock, jerking up and down until Jensen collapses forward, come
spilling over Jared’s stomach.
“Beautiful,” Jared states reverently. Jared’s hands slide around Jensen’s hips
then cup around his ass, fingers touching where they’re connected. He pumps his
hips up, bouncing Jensen up and screwing himself in. He bounces Jensen up twice
more - two harsh pumps - then grunts as he fills Jensen with come and collapses
back, content.
Jensen’s more insistent this time, wrapping himself tight around Jared. “Don’t
pull out, don’t Jared,” he says, repeating it until Jared relaxes and gives in
to Jensen’s request, cock softening inside Jensen’s ass. He turns them both on
their sides and wraps his arms around Jensen, mouthing at his shoulder in
slurred, sex-drunk movements.
When the morning comes, Jensen feels sore and used, and he stretches a little,
loving the feeling. Jared wakes soon after that, turning to face Jensen and
kissing him right away.
“Burn all the bloody things when I leave,” he says, sliding his nose against
Jensen’s. “The sheets, my clothes, your curtains. Will you do that for me,
baby?”
“Of course,” Jensen answers, voice shaky because Jared’s hand in sliding over
his cock.
“Good.” Jared nudges Jensen on top of himself, groggily whispering things about
what a beautiful slut Jensen is, how Jared’s keeping him forever, and all the
ways he’s going to fuck him in the future. Jensen lights up with every word,
and despite being sore, he lowers himself on top of Jared and slowly fucks
himself on Jared’s morning wood.
Before leaving, Jared steals a pair of shorts and Jensen’s favorite hoodie,
jumping out the window and scaling down the side of the house as usual.
Almost immediately, Jensen gathers anything that touched blood and throws it
all in the backyard fire pit, watching everything burn to ashes and knowing
that he’ll always protect Jared no matter what.
                              __________________
Jared has Jensen meet him at the tattoo shop later that day. Of course Jensen
knows what it’s for.
Ty sees them come in, but he’s working with a client, and another guy walks
over before Ty can. When the front counter guy gives him their info, he turns
an interested smile to them.
“Jared and Jensen, huh? I’m Chris. Come this way and tell me what you want.”
Jared pulls out a piece of paper and explains the concept, grabbing Jensen’s
arm and gesturing all the way around it. Chris nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, I can
do that,” he says. “Same payment as last time?”
“Ye-” Jared starts, just as Ty comes up.
“You stealing my customers?” he asks Chris. His voice is light, but he gives
Chris a hard look that makes Jensen worry things are about to escalate.
“Just doing my job,” Chris answer smoothly. “Maybe they won’t mind another
audience member?”
They both look to Jared who shakes his head, smirking. “Sorry man, this is a
one-ticket show.” Jensen is fairly certain Jared just wants the chaos, neither
of them would really mind another person watching. But Jared’s always liked
seeing things burn.
Both men look like they’re about to start throwing fists, but the guy from the
counter comes by and shoves them both into a back room. Jared looks amused as
they all storm off, and he decides to take that moment to run a hand down
Jensen’s bare stomach, teasing the edge of his pants.
“How do you feel about having all these men fighting over the chance to see you
all sexed up and dirty?”
“I don’t know,” Jensen answers, shaking his head.
“Yes you do,” Jared says, other hand rubbing across the front of Jensen’s
crotch. “I know you, baby. You like people to see how dirty and perverted you
are. You gonna tell me you never thought about this? Everyone wanting you?”
“I used to, um, think about...” he can’t finish, can’t believe he even started
admitting this, and his cheeks burn. But of course Jared can’t let it go.
“What did you think about?” Jared asks, fingers slipping underneath waist of
Jensen’s jeans.
“Just. Being used. Like having the whole football team use me.” Jensen closes
his eyes, hoping he’s not saying anything stupid.
“You wanna get gang-banged?” Jared sounds more amused than angry.
“Not anymore. And never… I always wanted it to be you. I always wanted… you.”
Jared grins, the kind that only Jensen gets to see, and crawls on top of
Jensen, kissing him hard and breathlessly asking, “Think I can fuck you before
they get back?”
Jensen doesn’t have a chance to answer because Chris and the front counter guy
return just then. The guy from the front frowns at them.
“Not in the shop,” he warns, and gives Chris a look too.
Ty stays on the other side of the shop, occasionally throwing Chris pissed off
glances. But he doesn’t try to start anything after that.
Jared moves so Chris can get started, although he keeps running his hands
across Jensen’s body, brushing his crotch a few times until Chris decides he
needs to strap down Jensen’s arm so he doesn’t accidentally hurt him or mess up
the design.
Jared takes that as an invitation to push things further, slipping a hand
underneath Jensen’s jeans to rub him off until Jensen’s a needy mess. He keeps
Jensen on the edge for a long time, long enough that it just hurts, waiting
until they’re halfway through to finally let Jensen come, just to start the
whole process again during the second half.
“Damn,” Chris says, and despite being mostly out of it, Jensen notices how
worked up the tattoo artist is as well. He hopes it doesn’t mess the design up
too much.
When Chris finishes the last part, none of them can wait, and Jared drags
Jensen outside, Chris just a step behind them, splitting open the crotch of his
pants the second they get outside.
Jensen’s on his knees before Jared even tells him, fumbling off Jared’s belt
and diving right in, slipping Jared’s cock straight down his throat, hands idly
rubbing the base, scratching into Jared’s pubic hair.
“God! Jensen!” Jared manages to choke out before thunking his head back into
the brick. It’s one of the quickest blow jobs Jensen has, barely ten seconds of
bobbing his head fast and rolling Jared’s balls with his fingers when Jared
grabs Jensen’s head and crams himself in tight, groaning while salty come
splashes in Jensen’s mouth. Jensen holds back from swallowing it all, instead
pushes out with his tongue so it drips out the sides of his mouth, running down
his neck and chest so Jensen’s a fucked-out mess, just like Jared loves best.
“Fucking hell,” Jensen hears Chris whisper. He’s sure the guy’s got his spent
cock in his hands, but Jensen doesn’t bother to look. His eyes stay on Jared
while Jared reaches down and uses the sleeves of his (Jensen’s) hoodie wipes
the tracks of come on Jensen’s face before crashing their mouths together.
Chris still has to bandage up Jensen’s tattoo before they leave, and Jensen
looks at it for the first time. Around the middle of his forearm is a dog
collar with a little tag hanging off the front clip that reads “J” in fancy
script. There’s a leash attached to it as well, and it winds around the rest of
Jensen’s arm, the hand strap ending just below his shoulder.
A small, sharp pang of guilt pierces Jensen’s chest. Jeff was a good guy, and
Jensen had tempted him too far, caught him in a weak moment. It was Jensen’s
fault, and he knows this, but when Jared smiles at him, all dimples and hazel
eyes, Jensen forget about everything else.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~THEN~ 17, 14
Jared’s dad used him. But Jared didn’t seem to mind, maybe even enjoyed
learning how to manage his dad’s work. He told Jensen what happened on every
trip, detailing the world-wide operations that his dad was connected in, how
everything was precarious and uncertain, but there were so many people set-up
between the drugs and his father that he doubted he’d ever get caught.
Mr. Padalecki walked in on them once when Jensen was between Jared’s thighs,
cock in his mouth and fingers tugging on Jared’s balls.
“Jared, do you know - oh. Sorry,” the man had said, sounding surprised and
shutting the door again. Jared looked at the closed door thoughtfully, and
Jensen pulled off for a moment to look at him.
“Guess he’s more open minded than I thought,” Jared commented, sliding a hand
across Jensen's cheek and guiding his mouth back down.
Mr. Padalecki pulled Jensen aside later, asking Jensen into his study so they
could talk.
“So you and Jared, huh?” He didn’t seem bothered, and when Jensen nodded, the
man continued, “It seems so obvious now, I don’t know how I missed it.”
Again, Jensen kept quiet, not sure what to say, but thankfully Mr. Padalecki
didn’t need any answers yet.
“I’m going to venture a guess that you already know what kind of family
business we run here. So I am going to warn you that if you’re going to
continue to be involved with my son, then you will be affected by it in some
form or another. Is this something you can handle?”
“Yes… yessir,” Jensen answered, having to clear this throat.
“Good.” The man gave Jensen a curious look. “So what is this for you?
Experimenting? Or are you expecting to be in this for the long haul?”
“It’s the real thing,” Jensen replied, feeling awkward. “I’m not going
anywhere.”
Mr. Padalecki’s mouth twitched in a small smile. “I know I owe a lot to you for
the way you handle my son. He’s ruthless and stubborn, but he likes you. I
suppose we’re all just lucky that you are just as attached to my son as he is
to you. He’s not controllable, but he might be manageable.”
Jensen nodded, still uncomfortable and hoping the conversation would end soon.
“Is there anything you need?” Mr. Padalecki gave Jensen a hard, concerned look.
“If there is, tell me. That is not a request. You’re under my protection. I
expect you to also warn me if Jared is in any trouble he can’t get out of. Do
you understand?”
“Yessir.”
“Good. Thank you, Jensen. You may go.”
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~NOW~ 19, 16
Hot water bubbles around Jensen as Jared presses him against the side of the
jacuzzi, kissing up his neck and rubbing wet fingers against Jensen’s bare
nipples.
Jared loves water. It makes him cuddly, mellow, and horney. He’s told Jensen
more than once that he wished they lived near the ocean. It’s at least a lucky
thing he has both a swimming pool and jacuzzi on his property.
“Wanna mark you up,” Jared slurs into Jensen’s skin.
Jensen shivers. “With what? Ink? Come?”
“Both.” Jared chuckles. “Always both.” Jensen expected Jared to fuck him at
least once in the hot tub, but instead he jumps out, grabbing Jensen’s hand to
haul him out too. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
Jared reaches into the cart next to the jacuzzi to grab a towel, flicking it
open to wrap around Jensen and rub the water off his skin.
“To show everyone that you’re mine.”
Jared leads them to the garage where he grabs one of his daddy’s expensive
cards and takes them out on the road. Jensen fluctuates between excitement and
anxiety. He’d do anything Jared asked, always, but he worries that someday
Jared’s going to ask him to do something that would make the world separate
them.
They start an honest-to-God fist fight in the middle of the tattoo shop the
minute they step inside. Ty and Chris shove each other into chairs and walls.
Another tattoo artist attempts to intervene but ends up joining in on the fight
when an errant punch lands on his cheek.
The front counter guy glares at the whole scene, including Jared and Jensen. He
tries to get them to leave, but Jared shakes his head, watching the scene
unfold like it’s some kind of goddamn TV show.
Both Ty and Chris are sent home, and their first guy is called into work. He
doesn’t look surprised at the story, and after assessing for moment, he makes
Jared and Jensen pay full price at the counter beforehand.
“That’s what carrying around a fucking pin-up face like that gets you,” he
grumbles, although his tone had no heat.
“I want a field goal, right here,” Jared says, pointing to a spot on the
outside of Jared’s forearm. “Simplistic, clean lines.”
“Can do boss,” the man says with an ironic smile.
                         _____________________________
Jensen is skittish for about a week, contemplating the meaning of his tattoo,
wondering who it’s connected to. He wonders if Jared found out about his
friendship with the football coach. Coach Omundson had caught a peek at
Jensen’s bite marks and bruises one day when Jensen was quickly changing shirts
in the faculty lounge. It had only taken a second, and Jensen had thought he
was alone, but the coach had walked out of the restroom to see Jared’s latest
handiwork purpling across Jensen’s chest.
Of course, it wasn’t anything that Jensen hadn’t screamed and begged for two
nights before.
“Damn,” Coach Omundson had said, whistling in awe. “Those are some nasty marks.
What happened?”
“Oh uh…” Jensen had had to think fast and managed to come up with, “College
intramural rugby team. I tend to bruise easily. It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“It looks pretty bad,” Tim had answered.
They’d been friends ever since Jensen had started working at the school, and
Coach Omundson (along with almost all the other coaches) had expressed an
interest in Jensen being their assistant coach. Jensen had turned all of them
down, wanting to be available for Jared whenever he wanted.
Although Coach Omundson never brought it up again, Jensen could see him eyeing
him carefully, tracking whenever some of Jared’s bites and bruises were a
little too close to his shirt collar. Jensen’s tried to be careful around the
man.
The only problem was that Coach Omundson has still been showing up to work. So
Jensen thinks the man is safe. For now.
He wants to ask Jared who the tattoo is for, but they’ve never talked about it
before, not outright.
Just when the surface of Jensen’s tattoo is starting to heal and lose the angry
redness, Jared texts Jensen after school.
Hey baby, Jared’s text reads.
Can’t meet after school.
Wanna meet up later though.
                                                                         Where?
Lakeview Hotel. Room 206.
6:00pm.
Don’t knock, just come inside.
                                                                            Ok.
And I need you to do me a favor.
                                                                    What is it?
Whatever you find in that room,
I need you to go along with it.
                                                              What do you mean?
Not gonna let you get hurt baby.
But I need you to let whoever is in that room
think you’re there for them.
Do whatever they want.
Can you do that for me?
                                                               I... don’t know.
Can you try? Just for me?
Jensen hesitates. He knows Jared’s a dangerous person. He knows Jared might not
be quite right, not according to society rules, certainly not by the law. But
honestly, Jensen doesn’t care. As long as Jared is safe, as long as Jared is
with him, he doesn’t care.
                                                                            Ok.
Jensen shows up at the hotel room exactly on time, shuffling in front of the
door in a sweatshirt and jeans, hesitant to go inside. He knows Jared promised
to keep him safe, and he believes that. But he also knows that whatever –
whoever – is inside that room, he probably won’t like.
As instructed, he doesn’t knock but walks right in. There’s someone sitting on
the bed, and it takes a few steps closer until Jensen recognizes the person,
but when he does, he stops dead and stares.
“David,” he breathes, and it all suddenly makes sense. The tattoo on his arm –
the football field goal – is for David. And he doesn’t know how or when, but
he’s certain that Jared’s seen the video.
“Jensen.” David’s grin is a little wavery, like he’s nervous, but he slides off
the bed to meet Jensen in the middle of the floor. “You came. I was worried
this was a joke but you’re here.”
“Yeah.” Jensen tries to smile, hopes he succeeds, and responds, “I’m here… for
you.”
“So you’ve been thinking about me all these years?” David asks, grin turning
more confident as he steps closer. “I knew you always wanted my dick.” He grabs
Jensen’s hand and slides it down so it’s cupping David’s crotch where Jensen
can feel the heat pool there, the start of an erection growing. “Knew you’d
still be a slut.”
David shoves Jensen to the floor and splits open his pants, yanking Jensen’s
face forward until his mouth is around David’s cock. It’s hard, just like last
time, David calling Jensen names and trying to choke him around his dick until
he’s hard and leaking.
Throwing Jensen on the bed, David tells him to strip and get on all fours while
he gets his own clothes off. Jensen starts to get nervous, wondering just how
far this is supposed to go, but he does as David asks, jumping when the man
yanks his legs further apart and starts fingering Jensen’s ass open.
Jensen can feel the lube being pushed into his ass, and he whimpers quietly,
hoping this will all be over soon. He stopped fantasizing about gang bangs and
fucking anyone else the minute he finally got Jared’s dick inside.
“Fuck, you’re gonna be so tight around my cock,” David says, flipping Jensen
onto his back and lining himself up. Jensen can feel the head of David’s cock
pressing against his ass when David suddenly makes a wet, choking sound and
Jensen starts blinking against the feel of something dripping across his face.
He looks up to see a spray of red arcing out from David’s throat, his eyes wide
and hands trying to wrap around his own neck and stop the bleeding.
It’s too late.
David falls forward and Jensen screams and rolls off the bed, trying to get
away. He’s stopped from going further by someone gathering him up in their arms
and leaning against the frame of the bed. Their hand goes around Jensen’s mouth
to stop any further noises from coming out, and he realizes that he started
sobbing and he’s trying to gasp for air, forgetting how to breathe for a moment
before his brain kicks the information back in and he starts inhaling and
exhaling through his nose.
“Shh shhh, it’s okay baby, it’s ok, calm down.”
Jensen recognizes the voice as Jared’s and suddenly feels safer, knowing that
it’s Jared who’s rocking him in his lap. It takes a few minutes for Jensen to
stop shaking and sobbing, Jared making soothing sounds and rubbing Jensen’s
naked back until he calms down a little.
“You just… he’s... dead?” Jensen asks, and he refuses to look behind him,
refuses to recognize what’s on the bed.
“He’s never gonna touch you again,” Jared promises, moving his hands so he can
brush Jensen’s tears out of his eyes and kiss his cheeks.
Still rocking Jensen in his arms, Jared pulls out a cellphone to make a call.
Jensen only half-listens, still in shock, vaguely hearing Jared give someone
their room number along with some instructions and asking for a car.
“Gotta clean you up really quickly,” Jared says gently after he hangs up. “I’ll
do it more thoroughly at home. Just gonna sponge you off, okay? I brought you
some extra clothes, too.”
Carefully, Jared leads Jensen to the bathroom sink and uses a towel to wipe him
down. Jensen avoids looking at himself in the mirror, doesn’t want to see
David’s blood all over himself, and closes his eyes until Jared’s done cleaning
them both up and has dressed them both in new clothes.
Jared’s cellphone goes off a few minutes later, and after looking at the
message, Jared tells Jensen their ride is here and they’ve gotta go out the
back door.
There’s a dark SUV waiting for them at the curb, and Jensen lets Jared lead him
around. He closes his eyes and leans against Jared the whole ride home, just
wanting to be away and safe.
“We’re here, baby,” Jared says what seems just a few minutes later, shaking
Jensen awake and guiding him out of the car. They’re at Jared’s house.
Once inside, Jared peels Jensen’s clothes off again and showers him just like
he promised, soaping him up and washing him down. He kisses Jensen everywhere,
muttering quiet apologies, explaining that he had to do it, but he’s so sorry,
baby, so sorry.
“Lean forward against the wall,” Jared requests. Jensen pushes his palms to the
wet tile walls, ass out, and closes his eyes as Jared pries his cheeks apart
and eats him out. When his fingers slip inside, Jensen makes a whining noise
and pushes up on his tippy toes. He loves feeling full, loves the safety of
having Jared inside.
“Fucking love all the red places inside you,” Jared says, getting to his feet
so he can kiss the back of Jensen’s neck, his fingers still screwing inside
Jensen’s ass, other hand sliding around Jensen’s hip and grabbing his cock.
“Such a pretty whore for me. Jesus fucking Christ, Jensen. Just for me. You
make me fucking insane, make me crazy. I want you to come all over my hand.”
Jensen’s hips start fucking back and forth, pushing inside Jensen’s fingers
from behind and fucking into his fist in front. “Deeper,” Jensen begs, trying
to get Jared’s fingers in just the right spot, trying to angle better.
“Of course, baby,” Jared whispers. “Deep as you want.” He slants his fingers
deeper, crooking his fingertips until he finally pushes against the gland that
makes Jensen buck up and gasp. Jared continues to hit the same spot, licking
and biting at Jensen’s back while Jensen fucks himself to orgasm, sobbing as he
comes right into Jared’s hand.
Jensen doesn’t even have to be asked, he pulls Jared’s hand up and starts
kitten-licking his own come off of Jared’s hand, tonguing between Jared’s
fingers, licking up every drop until Jared carries him out of the shower and
drops him on the bed.
Jared doesn’t say another word as he fucks Jensen from behind. He just growls
and gasps as he drives himself deep inside, hands clawing over Jensen’s
shoulder while he slams inside. It doesn’t take long for Jared to come, wet and
hard inside Jensen who loves every minute. When Jared pulls out, he replaces
his cock with his fingers, sliding his digits around in the mess of come and
lube in Jensen’s ass, pleased with his handiwork.
Before Jared can pull those out too, Jensen quickly begs, “Keep ‘em in me,
please. M’sorry. I’m sorry, I jus’ wanna be full. I wanna feel you. Feel so
good. Please Jared.”
“Not going anywhere,” Jared reassures him. “Gonna stay inside you forever.”
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~NOW~ 19, 16
Jared’s skin always smells faintly of smoke. Jensen smells it best when he’s
pressed against Jared, cheek resting on his shoulder.
He’s watching Jared do math homework, leaning against him and trying not to get
in the way while Jared scratches out trigonometry formulas.
“Honestly… I don’t think I can do this for two more years,” Jared says
thoughtfully, pencil paused above an equation. “I think I’m done. With high
school. With this town.”
He frowns at the paper then pulls the lighter out of his pocket, flicking it
open and setting the flame underneath the corner of a page. It catches after a
second and spreads fast, taking anything in reach with it.
The end table is metal and glass, but the flames fly hot for a minute,
scorching the glass as they burn. While the notebook and answer sheet blaze to
ash, Jared turns Jensen so he’s holding him against his chest. He tugs at
Jensens’ t-shirt until Jensen lifts his arms up so Jared can pull it all the
way off, tossing it on top of the fire. It smothers the flame, successfully
putting it out, although Jensen doubts that was even Jared’s intention.
All of Jensen’s tattoos are on display, and Jared’s fingers trace across the
design.
“You like these?” Jared asks, leaning down to drag his mouth and teeth across
them.
“I…” Jensen hadn’t ever really thought about it. He pauses, watching Jared
mouth up his arm, and all he can feel was happiness that Jared values him,
wants him, has marked Jensen up as his. “Yeah,” he finally replies, and Jared
nuzzles into his shoulder, faced turned up to flash a pleased smile at Jensen.
“Good. I’ve gotta go on a job with my dad. It’s gonna take a few weeks. Think
you can handle yourself on your own?”
“M’not an infant,” Jensen scoffs to which Jared chuckles, laughing vibrating
across Jensen’s shoulders.
“‘Course not. Although my dad’s gonna have someone watching your house while
we’re gone like he always does.”
Jensen frowns in surprise, sliding his fingers through Jared’s hair. “He…
does?”
“Yeah.” Jared smirks. “I think he likes you.”
                           ________________________
Cellphone reception isn’t always the greatest where Jared is and his dad often
makes Jared shut his phone off during work, so Jensen’s not surprised when he
doesn’t hear from him. He’s sitting in his room, plucking aimless on his
guitar, when Jared finally texts him for the first time in three weeks.
What are you doing?
Putting his guitar aside, Jensen moves to sit on his bed, cellphone in hand.
                                             Nothing. Messing around my guitar.
You know anything besides the Iron Man riff yet?
                                                                       Shut up.
                                   It’s pretty hard to learn an instrument when
                                my boyfriend can’t keep his dick out of my ass.
He can practically see Jared staring at his own cellphone, brow furrowing in
thought and thumbs on the edge of the screen. The long pause makes Jensen
nervous, and he tries not to get too antsy, tries not to already regret typing
that out.
Boyfriend?
Damn, I think I forgot to get you an official promise ring.
You wanna wear my letterman jacket?
                                                        Nah I’ve got my own ;-)
There’s a longer pause. Jensen stares his phone, watching the three dots
flashing across his screen. Finally, seven minutes later:
You touch yourself when I’m gone, baby?
Jensen immediately bites his lip, heat pooling in the bottom of his stomach
because it doesn’t take much for him to get worked up with Jared.
                                                                     Sometimes.
Touch yourself right now.
Stuff something slutty in that hole for me.
Jensen whines softly, even though no one can hear him. He fumbles through his
nightstand, groping blindly around the drawer until he finds his dildo, then
slides his fingers across everything again until he feels the shape of the lube
bottle.
As soon as he’s got a finger in his own ass, he hears the ping of another text
message. He lays down the toy so he can bring the cellphone up to his face,
other fingers still twisting inside his ass.
You doing it?
You working yourself wet and open?
It’s difficult to do one-handed, but Jensen manages to text back:
                                                                            Yes
A second later, the phone buzzes from a call, Jared’s name lit up on the
screen. Jensen pushes the green answer button.
“Lemme hear you,” Jared voice demands from the other side. “Put the phone next
to you on the bed, let me hear everything. Fuck. Come on, baby, know you love
it. Love being filled so deep inside. How many fingers now?”
“Two,” Jensen gasps out, dropping the phone next to his face.
“Put in another one.”
Spreading his legs as wide as possible, Jensen pushes a third finger inside,
huffing at the stretch.
“Tell me what you really want,” Jared says softly.
Jensen doesn’t even hesitate. “You,” he groans out. “Want you inside. Want your
fucking dick – uh! – all shoved up in my ass…”
Footstep thuds up the stairs alert Jensen to his intruders just seconds before
his bedroom door slams open. He chokes back a startled scream before
registering that it’s Jared standing inside his room.
He crosses the room in seconds, knee shoving between Jensen thighs and hand
brushes across Jensen’s belly.
“Got a surprise for you,” Jared promises, shoving two fingers inside Jensen’s
mouth and petting at his tongue. Jensen runs his tongue inside the digits and
presses his lips closed, sucking Jared’s fingers in a way he knows makes him
instantly hard. As soon as Jared’s fingers pop out of his mouth, Jensen
blearily notices a new design along the edges: matchsticks etched into the
sides of Jared’s middle and index fingers.
“Yeah.” Jared smiles, rubbing his wet fingers together. “That’s just the start.
But first, gotta fuck you, baby. Been dry for almost a month.”
Without warning, Jared pushes Jensen’s thighs apart and shoves himself inside
Jensen’s worked-open hole. Grabbing the sides of the bed, Jensen just lets
Jared use him, his body shoved up and down the bed while Jared thrusts inside.
“Been dreaming about you for weeks,” Jared mutters between them. “Missed your
perfect ass, driving me fucking crazy not being with you, never gonna find
anyone like you.”
Jensen tightens his legs around Jared’s hips and nods along. He knows nobody
else would understand how he and Jared need each other. But he’s right where he
wants to be, he knows how dark Jared can get and he doesn’t care, he loves
every twisted part of his boy. Jared’s perfect, always has been, and Jensen
would do anything for him.
Jensen comes first, vision blurred as his stares at the ceiling, muscles going
limp while Jared finishes a few more thrusts, chest pressed tight against
Jensen’s when his movements stutter and he comes deep inside Jensen’s ass.
“Love you,” Jensen gasps out when he feels Jared’s come leaking out of him,
flushing immediately. But then Jared nuzzles into his neck, sweaty cheeks
sliding against Jensen’s own sweaty skin, and he can feel the smile on the
younger boy’s face.
“I know,” Jared says between deep breaths. “I know. I love you, Jensen. Drives
me crazy, makes me stupid how much. Did something for you while I was gone.
Look, baby.”
Breath still thick, Jared pushes himself up and pulls his shirt off, revealing
a freshly healed tattoo sleeve.
“What….” Jensen’s forehead furrows as he studies the design, recognizing pieces
here and there.
“S’you and me,” Jared says softly, turning his arm to give Jensen a better
look. There’s a baseball bat along the ridge of his forearm a well as a
basketball around his elbow. Chain and ropes criss-cross up and down his arm
with dandelions and sticks poking between the links. There’s also fire-scorched
stuffed animals and locks with keys patched everywhere and a pair of heart-
shaped sunglasses. Intermixed in it all is Jensen’s name in different script in
several places, and something tightens in Jensen’s chest at that.
He climbs into Jared’s lap, thighs spread wide, and drags his mouth and hands
all over Jared’s chest and arm. “Fuck. Yes. Always gonna be you and me. Never
leaving. Never letting you go.”
Jared fucks Jensen two more times that night, coming deep inside Jensen each
time until he’s sloppy and wet.
The last time, he makes Jensen crouch down tight on his knees while he punches
his dick in deep, thighs pressing against Jensen’s sides while Jared’s arm
reaches across Jensen’s chest. Jensen feels completely enveloped, tucked and
lost underneath Jared.
“Gonna breed you,” Jared growls in his ear, lost in insatiable lust. “Knock you
up like a prom queen, pump you so full of come that you’ll be leaking me out of
your pores for a month. You want that, baby?”
“Y-yeah!” Jensen whines back, trying to pump his hips back into Jared, but
Jared is holding him so tight, all he can do was take it. “God, want it, want
you.” He dissolves into incoherent noises at that, so stimulated that he has no
idea where he is anymore, lost inside his head, whimpering happily as Jared
holds him tighter.
Jared comes with his teeth fastened on Jensen’s throat, hips snapped tight into
Jensen’s ass while Jensen’s filled to overflowing, come trickling down his
thighs and out of his own spent dick. They’re both too exhausted to even mind
the wet spot, Jensen sleepily tucking himself inside Jared’s warm arms while
they collapse into unconsciousness.
                                   [Matches]
                                 ~NOW~ 16, 19
Jensen always tangles himself inside Jared in his sleep. Legs sprawled
everywhere, nose nuzzled into Jared’s neck, fingers gripped onto whatever part
of Jared is the closest, heart beating steadily against Jared’s torso. It’s one
of Jared’s favorite pleasures in life, waking up next to his beautiful, clingy
boy.
It takes a few minutes for Jared to extract himself and carefully slip out of
bed, padding away from his well-fucked, sleeping boyfriend and going
downstairs.
It’s early. Through the window, he can see the horizon starting to pink up, but
Jared’s feeling restless. He’s halfway down the stairs when he can smell the
pungent, cedar aroma of tobacco smoke, and he knows what to expect when he
turns into the living room.
Mr. Ackles is sitting in a recliner, cigar tucked between his fingers, glass of
whiskey on the table next to him. He glances over at Jared when he walks in,
mouth set in a straight, disinterested line.
They stare at each other for a few minutes until Mr. Ackles flicks the ash off
his cigar and, voice low and emotionless, asks, “You fucking my son?”
The edges of Jared’s mouth quirk in amusement. “You just figure that out?”
Mr. Ackles makes a humorless snort and takes a sip of his whiskey, shaking his
head. “I knew my son would grow up to be a dick-sucking whore. I’m just
surprised you stuck around this long. He can’t be that good a fuck, not if he’s
anything like his mother.”
Heat creeps around the edges of Jared’s vision, adrenaline choking out his
arteries and surging inside his ribcage to pinch at his heart. He’s never liked
the man, has saved him for last because he wanted to make sure he could take
care of Jensen first. As horrible a father as Mr. Ackles is, his pre-nup and
will ensure that his wife and child can’t survive without him.
“You know nothing about your son.”
His tone must have caught Mr. Ackles’ attention because the man gives him a
hard look, eyes searching across Jared’s features. “Jensen’s never been worth
knowing about.”
When Jared takes a step towards the man, Mr. Ackles must recognize something in
Jared’s eyes because he grabs his whiskey glass and hurls it at Jared’s head.
Jared manages to duck in time and grabs Mr. Ackles by the back of his arms,
pulling him out of the chair and shoving him hard across the room. There’s a
loud crack as Mr. Ackles’ head hits the side of the oak TV stand, and the man
grunts in pain, hand pressing against the side of his temple as he finds his
footing.
“I always knew you were a psychotic son of a bitch,” Mr. Ackles sneers, blood
starting to ooze from between his fingers.
“Evil knows evil,” Jared smirks back. “The difference is, I can appreciate
something pure and perfect like your son.”
Not waiting for a response, Jared rushes the bastard, grappling with him as
they knock against furniture and walls. Mr. Ackles isn’t weak, but he’s not
quite as strong as Jared either, not after all those years spent bulking up,
hitting the gym for this exact reason, wanting to be big enough to protect
Jensen.
He’s not surprised when Jensen appears while he’s got his father on the floor,
both his hands around his throat. They’d been loud, and the living room is a
mess of broken wood and overturned chairs, everything in chaos.
Jensen’s eyes grow big, and he steps closer. Jared hasn’t loosened his grip
around Mr. Ackles’ neck, although the man’s eyes have snapped over to his son,
desperate as he comes to the end of whatever air is left inside his lungs. But
Jensen ignores him, face expressionless as he leans down to hold out Jared’s
buck knife that he must have taken out of Jared’s jeans before coming
downstairs.
Jared feels a surge of pride, knowing that everything he’s done has led to this
moment. That Jensen’s choosing Jared over everything else in his life, that
he’s trusting him. Quickly, Jared grabs the knife by the handle and plunges it
into Mr. Ackles’s chest, twisting and pushing down until the body stops
twitching. Once he’s sure the man is dead, Jared pulls the knife back out,
wipes the blood on his shirt, and clips it back in its case. It was a present
from Jensen, and he’d never give it up.
“So… he’s dead,” Jensen whispers, tone just on the edge of shock.
“Yes, baby,” Jared says, voice dropping into a soothing tone because he needs
Jensen to move fast. He’s got plans. Gently, he cups Jensen’s face in his
hands, waiting patiently until Jensen blinks and looks him in the eyes. “Need
you to do something, quickly. Go upstairs, grab the duffel bag from under your
bed and fill it with essentials. Clothing, passport. Find your dad’s wallet, if
you can, grab that too. Get dressed in comfortable clothes and meet me back
here in three minutes. Can you do that, baby?”
“I…” Jensen stares into Jared’s eyes, steadying himself, and nods. “Yeah.”
“Good.” Jared smiles and kisses Jensen quickly before ushering him upstairs.
This plan has been in the back of Jared’s mind for years as he’s tried to
become everything Jensen needed, tried to figure out what kind of life Jensen
deserved. He thought for a while that Jensen just wanted to be normal, but he’s
come to realize that Jensen’s not suited for it anymore than Jared is. They’re
going to carve out their own kind of life and leave this one behind.
By the time Jensen’s downstairs with his dufflebag, Jared has poured propane
all across the living room, soaking the carpet around the body of Jensen’s
father, and has opened the cap off a jug of canola oil and shaken it across the
front room.
They both stand outside the front door, Jensen’s duffle bag slung across his
shoulder, staring inside for a moment.
“Ready to start a new life?” Jared asks, reaching out to grab Jensen’s hand.
“As long as you’re coming too,” Jensen immediately answers. He squeezes Jared’s
fingers then drops his hand so he can reach into his pocket. From inside his
hoodie, Jensen pulls out one of the matchbooks Jared left on Jensen’s dresser.
He flips the cover open and strikes all the matches at once before holding it
out to Jared. The flames dance in Jensen’s trusting eyes.
Jared wants to make Jensen swallow the matches one-by-one then kiss his ashy
lips until both their mouths are hot and buzzing. He’s so far gone for Jensen
and it scares him sometimes how everything in his life has revolved around this
one boy. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Jared throws the lit matchbook into the middle of the room where it immediately
catches fire, the flames following the trail of oil across the room, licking
across carpet and swallowing up the body lying in front of the couch.
“Let’s go,” Jared says as they turn to walk down the walkway.
“Where?” Jensen asks quietly, following just behind Jared.
“My house. I’ve got one last thing to do before we go.”
Jared leads them to his garage where he grabs every combustible product he can
find from the shelves. Shoving a bottle of motor oil into Jensen’s hands, he
instructs Jensen to pour it all over the front living room while Jared gets the
rest of the house.
From his room Jared grabs his always-ready panic bag then pours gasoline
through the second floor, making sure to really soak the carpet just in front
of his dad’s office.
It takes them all of five minutes to finish, and Jared meets Jensen at the
front door.
“Is your dad home?” Jensen asks quietly, pulling out another book of matches.
“Yeah.” A dark smile plays over Jared’s lips. “He’s in his study, locked in,
probably video chatting with Brazil.”
“You sure you wanna do this?”
“Fuck yeah,” Jared answers firmly. “Bastard killed my mom. He thinks I don’t
know, but one of his guys let it drop while I was in Belize. She was trying to
leave him. He’s a fucking piece of shit, deserves to die just as much as your
dad.”
Jensen looks nervous, but Jared knows he’ll calm down once they’re out of town
and this is all behind them. Jared reaches out to run a hand through Jensen’s
hair, trying to calm him, before plucking the matchbook out of Jensen’s hand
and striking them on fire.
“Want to do the honors?”
As soon as Jensen tosses the lighter far into the livingroom, Jared presses him
against the side of the door, mouth over his, body rolling. He loves proof of
how much Jensen trusts him, how much he loves Jared. How fucked up they both
are.
“You smell like smoke,” Jared says approvingly, licking up Jensen’s neck, and
he knows it’s stupid as fuck, but he’s so turned on right now. “Fuck, you’re
gonna be mine forever, gonna leave this place behind, gonna show you the ocean,
baby, anything you want.”
“Gotta get in the car first to do all that,” Jensen gasps out, and Jared can
feel Jensen’s rabbit-speed heartbeat through his shirt, body flushing warm as
Jared brushes his fingers into all of Jensen’s sensitive places. The heat
behind him is only getting stronger, and with the flames rising from his own
house, he’s sure it’s just a matter of seconds before the fire truck sirens
start screaming down the road.
“Yeah,” Jared agrees, finally pushing himself off Jensen, grabbing his hand and
leading them back to the garage.
They pass a couple police cars with flashing lights on their way out of the
neighborhood and Jared grins as they drive away.
Jared doesn’t stop until they’re past the Texas border. He’s got brochures in
the glove compartment box of every city around the world near a body of water,
determined to show Jensen the ocean. He pushes the stack into Jensen’s lap and
Jensen looks at all the colorful pictures, pushing them around and seeing
glimpses of Lake Tahoe, Huntington Beach, the Azure Coast, Byron Bay, and more.
Smiling, Jared slips his heart-shaped sunglasses on Jensen’s face, traces his
finger around Jensen’s lips, and says:
“Pick one.”
***** Epilogue *****
They’re homeless and aimless. But Jared likes it that way.
Jensen gets fucked in a different motel every night, almost too satiated to
appreciate all the ocean sunsets that Jared insists on dragging him to every
night. Jared has enough cash stashed away to afford lavish hotels – he’d been
skimming from various jobs for years – but for the most part they stay at
modest inns, as close to the ocean as they can find.
Jensen doesn’t know exactly how much money they’ve got, but he can tell by the
way Jared’s not tracking all their expenses that it’s enough for a while.
After hearing how blue the ocean is off Tulum beach, Jared takes them to Mexico
where they stay a while, sunbathing and snorkeling until Jensen’s skin pinks up
and new freckles scatter across his shoulders and cheeks.
They’re sitting on beach chairs in the early evening, watching the sun dip
below the waves, when a tall, strikingly beautiful woman steps in front of
their view. Her black sundress is caught in the breeze, flapping behind her,
red hair twisted on top of her head.
“Are you Mr. Jensen Ackles?” she asks politely. Jared looks instantly
murderous, jaw tight like he’s thinking about snapping the woman’s neck,
although she doesn’t seem fazed.
Jensen doesn’t answer, but the woman just gives him a short smile and says,
“This is for you,” as she hands him an envelope.
He hesitates for a moment, but he figures he won’t know what’s going on until
he opens the envelope. So Jensen breaks the seal and pulls out the paper
inside. It’s a will. It takes a few minutes for Jensen to read it, but once he
does, his brain goes dizzy as he realizes the implications. It says that Jensen
gets everything: his father’s savings, the house, his life insurance. He
wonders when his father had changed it, because the last time he’d seen it, his
father had left everything to his alma mater, Rice University (probably
expecting them to name a building after him). But – if this notarized copy is
to be believed – Jensen is a rich man.
Confused, Jensen looks up, but Jared’s already jumped out of his chair and is
staring the woman down.
“What are you doing here, Alaina,” Jared spits out.
Cocking an eyebrow up, Alaina cooly replies, “Helping you. You’re welcome, by
the way.”
“We’re doing fine,” Jared growls out. “We don’t need your help.”
“You are for now,” the woman concedes. “Maybe even for a year or two. But what
do you expect to happen when you run out of money? You’re a semester shy of a
high school diploma and your boy wants to go to college. Don’t you think he
deserves that?”
 
“I can take care of myself. And I can take care of Jensen.”
Alaina’s eyes cut sideways to look at Jensen. “Look, your father has a soft
spot for Jensen. He likes him, you know. And he loves you. Even if you did try
to kill him.”
Jared scowls. “So the bastard is alive.”
“I think you already knew that.”
Jared’s jaw tenses, but he takes a breath and Jensen can see his shoulders
slump. “Yeah. I guess I did. So what does he want?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
“Nothing right now,” Alaina amends. “He’s willing to give you time and space to
do some personal stuff, take a break for a while. See more of the world without
business in the way, take your boy with you.”
“Ok. And then in a few years, what does he want?”
“Your dad wants you to work with him. He wants to offer you his empire when he
retires. And Jared, that’s nothing to sneeze at. You know all of us would kill
to have what you have. So if you don’t want his help, fine, burn the will, burn
–” she pulls out another envelope and holds it up, “– this high school diploma.
You can try to walk away if you want. Maybe he’ll even let you, who knows. But
we both know what’s in that bloody, crazy gourd of yours. You’re fucked up,
kid. And this is the kind of life that can afford you the money and freedom to
be fucked up. So it’s your choice.”
Alaina hands Jared the envelope and walks away, a black blur that Jensen has to
squint to make out in the twilight.
Suddenly, Jared is on top of him, rolling himself hard, biting at Jensen’s
neck.
“I can take care of you,” Jared says, voice low. “We don’t need them. You know
that, right?”
“Yeah, I know baby.” Jensen slides his hand up Jared’s neck, twisting his
fingers in his hair. He tugs a little until Jared gets the hint and crashes
their mouths together. Jensen lets himself get lost in it for a while, loving
how worked up Jared gets. Although he can tell Jared’s more anxious and worried
than he’s letting on. Twisting himself, Jensen manages to rearrange them until
he’s sitting on Jared’s lap. “I trust you,” Jensen reassures him while Jared’s
hands knead into his ass. “You never have to worry about that. You don’t ever
have to prove anything to me, you’re already it for me.”
Jared looks pensive for a moment then leans up, hands on the small of Jensen’s
back as he licks into Jensen’s mouth. “You’re such a sap,” he says between
their lips, chuckling. “But ok. Then trust me.” He plucks Jensen’s envelope
from where it’s creased against the chair and tosses both into the sand. His
hands slides back down, pushing Jensen’s shorts down. Jensen knows where this
is going, and he reaches down to unlace Jared’s swim trunks and pull him out,
stroking a few times to get him really hard.
As soon as Jared’s inside, Jensen’s eyes flutter back and his back arches. It’s
always so good, nothing has ever changed that.
“I’m thinking we need a new ocean tomorrow,” Jared says while his fingers
stroke across Jensen’s back. Jensen nods, too full and content to speak. “Where
do you want to go?”
It takes a few minutes for Jensen to catch his breath, and he reaches out to
steady his hands on Jared’s shoulders while Jared waits for an answer.
“Anywhere,” he finally says, managing a smile. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”
End Notes
     If you liked it, please let me know! This is my first 20k+ work ♥
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