
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/242693.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural_RPF
  Relationship:
      Jensen_Ackles/Jared_Padalecki
  Character:
      Jensen_Ackles, Jared_Padalecki, Misha_Collins, Richard_Speight, Chad
      Michael_Murray, Sandra_McCoy, Katie_Cassidy, Sophia_Bush, Genevieve
      Cortese
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Unviverse, High_School, Dragons, Creatures, Adopted_Siblings,
      Pseudo-Incest
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-08-20 Words: 13123
****** Unchangeable ******
by BewareTheIdes15
Summary
     Jared's basically the sweetest guy on the planet, except for the fact
     that he is actually a giant fire-breathing lizard.
Notes
     Now with amazing_podfic by silkylustre
     You can also check out a quick manip I did to go with the story at
     the end of the_original_post_on_LJ.
Jensen’s first glimpse of his dragon-brother is through the folds of burgundy
velvet. He’s small and sort of scared and velvet is just one of a dozen words
his momma has used today that he doesn’t actually know. She whispered something
about the cloth excitedly to Jensen’s dad when the big man carefully produced
the bundle of it from the gilded carrier in his arms and his father had nodded
his agreement.
Jensen doesn’t really understand what’s happening but everyone keeps telling
him that it’s an honor and that it’s very very important. It doesn’t really
make sense to him why being Chosen to take care of a dragonet makes him
important, but he nods his head and says thank you like his momma taught him
to.
Everyone is staring at him as the big man puts the blanket in Jensen’s arms.
It’s too big for him to hold right, especially when the thing inside starts
wiggling. The fabric is covered all over in shiny, bright stones like on
jewelry commercials; diamonds and emeralds and rubies. Jensen can’t tell which
are which, but it’s still exciting and scary to have them in his hands wrapped
around this wriggling, writhing thing. He hopes they won’t break if he drops
them.
The creature in the bundle won’t stay still, like when he tries to pick up the
neighbor’s cat and get it to play with him. It’s about the same size too and
when he feels the prick of claws through cloth he wonders if they really did
mess up and give him a cat on accident.
At first he doesn’t notice it, or can’t tell what it is because the fabric is
so shiny all over that the little flash of copper doesn’t stand out. Then the
thing inside thrashes furiously, rolls all around and almost makes Jensen lose
his grip on it but finally pushes its little head out into the air.
It’s not a cat.
Jensen’s never seen a dragon before, not a real one. He watched a movie once
with one in it, but even that isn’t really the same. It looks sort of like a
lizard, bony head and a thin, pointy nose, but different too. Its scales are
like the inside of a money-purse, copper and bronze and gold with sharp-looking
little spikes at the base of its skull, trailing down the back of its neck
where it disappears into the blanket. What he can’t stop looking at, though,
are its eyes. They’re too big for its head with little cuts of black through
the center instead of normal round pupils, and Jensen can’t decide what color
they are before they’re changing again, blue and green and brown shifting under
the surface like swirled water, glowing from the inside. It’s really pretty.
Vaguely he hears his momma asking the man about human forms and shifting and
what foods are best and the man answering softly but mostly Jensen’s too busy
watching the little creature climb further out of the bundle, long neck and
tiny body and even longer tail. He doesn’t notice the wings until it rears up
on its hind legs, front ones balanced against Jensen’s chest, and the thin
membranes flare out. His breath catches in surprise and he stumbles, toppling
onto his butt on the living room carpet.
The tiny dragon squawks and hisses, little wings flapping wildly, tail coiled
startlingly tight around Jensen’s wrist. After a minute it settles again,
turning its head this way and that to take Jensen in from all sides, making him
feel trapped even though it’s much tinier than he is. It leans in until they
are nose to nose, too close to look at without his eyes wanting to cross, and
makes this noise like chuff-chuff-chuff that sends little puffs of hot breath
against Jensen’s lips. Before he can decide what any of that means, his
shoulders are itching from the press of little claws through his t-shirt as the
dragonet climbs up to curl around his neck, head butting up underneath Jensen’s
jaw.
When he looks up, his parents and the big man are smiling at him with this
funny warm look on their faces. Jensen doesn’t have long to think about it,
though, because the baby dragon starts nudging insistently under his chin until
Jensen reaches up nervously and runs a finger down its neck. The creature
nuzzles into his palm and starts humming so hard Jensen feels like his whole
body is shaking.
***
Jensen wakes in the middle of the night on a sharp prickly jolt. For a flash of
a moment there’s nothing but the cold surge of fear stealing his breath in the
space between sleep and wakefulness before he manages to locate the source of
the uncomfortable tingling in his right leg.
“Jared,” he groans, voice sleep-rough. He strikes out aimlessly at the thick
weight wound between his legs and around his thigh. His brother grumbles
unhappily in his sleep, soft sucking pressure picking up around Jensen’s thumb
again as he works his too-warm tongue against it. Jared really is too old for
this crap.
On the other hand, trying to rescue the digit from his adoptive sibling’s mouth
isn’t likely to get him anything but bitten for his trouble. Sometimes he
thinks it would be better if the school hadn’t agreed to put them in the same
dorm room – or maybe if they’d put bars or something around Jared’s bed to keep
him from creeping over to Jensen’s side of the room - but Jared would probably
find a way follow him no matter where he was assigned to bed down, just like he
does everything else. Besides, Jensen’s not really sure he’d be able to rest
without the banked-ember heat of Jared’s body against him anyway.
“Jared!” he complains louder, leg still prickling numbly in the tight grip of
Jared’s tail. He flicks at his brother’s ear with his free hand, trying to
shift the now dead weight of his foot. Jared whines petulantly around Jensen’s
thumb, eyes fluttering open a sliver. The irises glow dimly under the soot-dark
web of his eyelashes, his true nature nestled close to the surface as he
sleeps. “You’re hurting me.”
He gives a tug to the reptilian tail may-poled around his leg, grown so thick
over the last few years that he can no longer get his hand around it all the
way, at least not this close to the base. Jared’s grip eases but doesn’t
unravel, the tip moving back and forth over his skin in what would probably be
a soothing gesture if Jensen could feel it properly. His dragon-brother sighs
unnaturally hot breath against Jensen’s knuckles and works himself backward,
closer to the curve of Jensen’s body.
Even in his human skin, Jared’s still more than half animal, both in body and
behavior. He has a need for closeness that is nearly obsessive, with any- and
everyone he happens to be nearby, but above all toward Jensen, much to his
chagrin. It’s impossibly hard to look like a badass with his ‘little’ brother
climbing all over him constantly. Everybody’s pretty well used to it by now,
but when they’d first started school - a year later than everyone in his class
because he had to wait for Jared to be deemed mature enough to bump up to
Jensen’s grade – it had been the subject of more than a few attempts to shove
them both around. Most of those had stopped pretty fast – people had learned
quickly that there’s a reason you don’t mess with dragons.
Jared doesn’t fit in his arms quite the way he used to – fourteen and already
as big as Jensen even though he’s two years younger. Which would be pretty
impressive if it weren’t for the fact that his other form is the size of an
elephant. His brother has been entirely too smug about all of that.
Jensen’s not sure how much more Jared is likely to grow, but he hopes it isn’t
much – Jared’s scales are a pain in the ass to look after when they’re molting,
even in his human form when he’s got a lot less of them.
The bright drops of metallic never truly go away, standing out most in his
human form where the bone is close to the surface; at his jaw and collarbone,
hips, knees, shoulder blades, elbows, spine. And the tail is always there,
proportional to his human body and relatively unobtrusive when it makes up its
mind to stay wrapped around Jared’s leg like it’s supposed to, although
generally it seems to prefer to twine around Jensen’s whenever the opportunity
presents itself. That’s still a lot of scales to take care of, scrubbing and
oiling and ensuring that there aren’t any deformities from spreading too fast
with his brother’s semi-constant growth spurt. He understands now why most
dragon mothers choose to pair their offspring up with humans; it would be far
too much for Jared to handle on his own. Still he can’t help but wonder whether
dragon-slave wouldn’t be a more appropriate title for it.
He wonders too if the other Chosen have this much to contend with from their
charges or if maybe Jared’s just unusually clingy for a dragon. He’s never met
anyone else in their situation, though he knows there are some out there – not
many, with the dragon population in such decline, but some.
The problem is that dragons are an old magic, one that hasn’t evolved well with
time. They’re the only species on record that relies on a soulmate bond instead
of genetic compatibility to breed and with the world’s population getting
bigger all the time, it’s become infinitely harder for each of them to find
that one special creature to call their own. That’s part of Jensen’s job, part
of the reason they get to go to such a specialized school even though Jensen’s
just a human - to help learn different languages and customs and skills so that
they can strike out after graduation and find whoever Jared’s meant to be with.
Jared’s almost maddeningly blasé about the whole idea – which is pretty damn
insulting considering Jensen’s got to give up any chance at a normal life for
himself until Jared finds The One – but he’s holding out hope that his little
brother will get with the program whenever his freaking hormones finally decide
to kick in. Or maybe that’s the real secret behind why dragons are so rare,
they don’t have a damn libido.
Although he has to admit, there might be some advantages to that too; it was
pretty fucking funny that time Genevieve tried to crawl into Jared’s lap and he
just smiled and patted her on the head.
He can’t really imagine what his life would be like without Jared – what it
will be like once they manage to find Jared’s soulmate. He can barely remember
a time before Jared came into – took over – his life. He’s not even sure who
he’d be, what he’d do with himself without Jared around.
His arms tighten around his brother all on their own, prompting another burst
of suckling pressure against his thumb before Jared subsides into deep sleep
again, the thrumming in his chest, low and content. Jensen presses his face
against the silky heat of coppery scales on the back of Jared’s neck and lets
the sound lull him back to sleep.
***
“A C+! Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous in your entire life?” Katie
rails as they cross into the courtyard for midday break, high shriek echoing
off of the flagstones. This is why no one likes to hang out with the banshees.
“Well, you did get the whole section about The Treaty of Five Armies wrong,”
Sofia points out entirely unhelpfully. She’s flipping through Katie’s history
test, scarlet ink standing out like blood on the proverbial battlefield. The
sphinx has her lips pursed over one of the answers, eyebrow raised
disapprovingly, but wisely says nothing to Katie about whatever egregious
mistake she made on the essay questions. There are some fights you’re never
going to win.
Jensen tucks his own test – A+, just because he doesn’t have a supernatural leg
up doesn’t mean he can’t keep pace with the rest of the class – into the inside
pocket of his school jacket, extracting the remains of crumpled pack of
cigarettes, tapping one out and setting it between his lips.
“Jensen!” he hears, loud and joyous, half a second before Jared is crashing
into his back, the both of them only keeping their feet because Jared is strong
enough to pick Jensen up and hold him in midair. That does not mean that Jensen
likes it.
“Damnit, Jay! Put me down!” He kicks fruitlessly, knowing full well that he
can’t physically make Jared do anything and exactly zero percent happier for
the reminder.
Jensen’s feet haven’t even hit the pavement again before he feels Jared’s tail
looping around his thigh, a tall, lanky line of heat pressing against his back.
His dragon-brother grins at Jensen, stooping just a little to rest his chin on
Jensen’s shoulder, arms slung carelessly around his waist. At least for a
moment, and then that dimpled smile is morphing downward into a displeased
scowl.
“You said you’d quit,” he accuses, glaring at the unlit cig still hanging from
Jensen’s mouth. Crap.
“Quitting, I said I was quitting. Note the –ing,” he grumbles. The last thing
he needs is for Jared to tell Mom about this. Again.
Jared snorts, air shimming with heat as it comes out of him. Jensen looks to
the girls for some support – Genevieve having bounced up to the little circle
they’ve made in Jared’s wake – and finds everyone studiously doing something
else, up to and including memorizing the flagstone grout beneath their feet.
This shit is why people joke about them being an old married couple.
“C’mon,” he cajoles, “if I do it all at once I’ll go through withdrawl. You
don’t want to have to put up with me like that.”
“Yeah,” Jared rolls his color-shifting eyes, “I can’t imagine what a crabby
Jensen would be like.” Katie busts out with a coughing fit as if that will
cover up the fact that she’s laughing. Like a bitch.
“I swear, I’m working on it, okay? It’s a step down thing.”
“Uh-huh, and what step are you down to today?”
“Um,” Jensen stalls, trying to figure out how far he can push to maximize his
nicotine intake without actually pissing Jared off. Getting nagged at in front
of the girls is one thing, he does not need Jared hounding him about this in
front of other people. “Four.”
“And this is one?” Jared eyes him skeptically, tail flicking agitatedly at
Jensen’s shoelace.
Oh damnit, he hates when Jared does the eye-contact thing, now he’s totally
going to know if Jensen lies.
With a reluctant sigh he admits, “This is two.”
Jared still looks nonplussed, but he nods anyway, leaning in to press his lips
against the tip of the cigarette and blow gently until it smolders.
“Fine,” his brother agrees as Jensen takes his first welcome drag of smoke,
“But you’re only getting three.”
“But-“ Jensen starts to argue but the look Jared’s giving him says he ought to
take a page from Sofia’s book. He allows himself a pointed groan of
disappointment before letting it go – maybe he can talk Jared into an extra
after he’s all loose and pliant from Jensen working on that flaky patch of
scales on his back. Jared thrums happily at his continued victory over
everything Jensen enjoys in life, the vibration echoing through Jensen’s ribs
as his brother nuzzles against his neck.
His attention falls back to the girls, no longer pretending not to be paying
attention. Instead they’re all staring at he and Jared with this same, slightly
dazed look on their face that’s not so unusual for Gen – uncontrollable lust is
pretty much part of the package with nymphs – but is a little jarring on the
other two.
“What?” he asks, glancing behind him in case there’s some major hotness he’s
missing. Nope, just the usual crowd. By the time he looks back around the girls
are back to normal, though Sofia is blushing slightly. Gen still looks like
she’s debating what sauce to top Jared with when she eats him for dinner. After
two years he’d have thought the girl would give up on Jared. Oh well, the heart
wants what the heart wants, right? Not that he thinks there’s a lot of heart
involved in what Gen’s after.
He taps the ash off the end of his cigarette and covers Jared’s hand on his
belly with his own to keep his brother from picking at the buttons.
***
It’s like the start of a bad joke – an imp, and incubus and a were walk into
the cafeteria. Jensen really hates the feeling that he’s about to be the
punchline. He’s already scowling before Richard, Misha and Chad have even
gotten to their table, only noticing the expression because Jared elbows him in
the ribs and gives him the 'be nice' eyes. Jensen scowls at him too just for
good measure. It’s been two days since Jared found his secret smoke stash and
burned it. Jensen is in no kind of mood.
"We're having a party on Saturday," Richard's saying before he even sits down.
He dumps his messenger bag next to the chair but it falls over to land heavily
on Jensen's foot. Kicking it off earns him a glower he doesn't even begin to
feel bad about, particularly when the bricks or whatever the hell Richard's
carrying around to make that damn thing so heavy get slammed into Chad's shin.
It rapidly devolves into an under the table kicking match, halting only when
somebody manages to knock into Jared's tail where it's clinging to Jensen's
ankle and his brother hisses violently.
The other three slink back, almost imperceptibly, but everybody's feet end up
planted firmly on the floor. Jared's basically the sweetest guy on the planet,
except for the fact that he is actually a giant fire-breathing lizard. It comes
in really handy when Jensen wants people to back the hell off.
"Sooo," Misha drawls, hitching his hip against the table, "we're having a party
on Saturday."
"Yeah, I heard that," Jensen deadpans back. Jared's petting dejectedly at the
end of his tail, so Jensen reaches over and threads his fingers into the hair
at the nape of Jared's neck where the scales get really tiny and scritches
until his brother's eyelashes flutter and the starts to softly thrum.
"And we need girls," Chad adds emphatically, squinting at Jensen. Jensen
glances down the line of his own body - tucked uniform shirt, slightly loosened
tie, khakis - then over at Jared who, despite Jensen's best efforts, always
manages to look like he was dressed by something lacking opposable thumbs by
the time the day is halfway over. Still very obviously male.
"You've really got to pay more attention in anatomy, Murray," he says with an
eyebrow that he thinks pretty clearly tacks on a ‘fuck off’. Jared only squirts
a tiny bit of orange juice out of his nose.
"Bite me, dickwad," Chad growls over Richard and Misha's completely unsubtle
snickering.
Before Jensen can pop back with a retort, Richard says, "You guys hang out with
three of the hottest chicks in school." Jensen doesn't try to disguise his
disgust. Yeah, ok, the girls are hot, no question there, but he's not their
pimp, and if he was, he sure as hell wouldn't pimp them out to his friends.
Richard and Misha are cool guys and even Chad is alright - sometimes, when he's
unconscious - but they get away with friggin' murder because Richard's dad is
the Dean and there's an inherent level of douchiness wrapped up in that.
Besides, he's pretty sure they only want the girls to come because they figure
at least one of them has a chance with a nymph and everyone who's ever met Chad
knows he wants to knot Sophia - like that'll ever happen.
"You have no shot," Jared points out around a mouthful of vanilla pudding, all
but reading Jensen's mind. That's really never going to stop being freaky.
Still Jensen has to nod in agreement.
"Do too," Misha argues simply, which, with his powers, might actually be true -
assuming he breaks school policy and puts a glamour on somebody.
Over the years, Jensen has discovered that dealing with these three is a lot
like dealing with Jared - as well as most small children and wild animals - be
firm. "We're not bringing the girls."
"Aw, c'mon, Jen, one last hurrah before the end of semester," Richard knocks
his shoulder with a playful fist, "It'll be fun."
"It'll be detention from now until we're released for break."
Chad mutters something suspiciously like "Goody two shoes," and Jared's eyes
narrow at him. He hears the start of a growl trickle out of Chad’s mouth and
Jared is sitting up straighter, body heat getting pronouncedly warmer at
Jensen’s side. Just what he needs, a shifter fight to cap off the nicotine
jones. At least he’s got to give it to Chad for not backing down, even if Jared
could turn him into crispy-fried wolf-pup at ten paces.
Jensen decides to go ahead and call lunch a bust and packs up his tray. He and
Jared have a free period before Metaphysical Theory, maybe he'll take Jared out
to stretch his wings for a little while. Or a nap. A nap would be awesome.
"Wait, wait, wait," Richard dimension hops - totally against the rules - so
he's suddenly standing right in front of Jensen as he makes to dump his tray at
the drop off by the door, "I was gonna save this for a surprise, but since
you're being a bitch today..." He trails off, a beleaguered sigh passing his
lips, but he's grinning all the same. "I can get you a spot in the senior dorms
next semester."
From the sparkle in Richard's eye, Jensen's pretty sure the interest shows on
his face but he still makes a show of returning his tray while Jared gathers up
his books and gives Chad a lingering look of warning before 'accidentally'
tipping over Chad's milk carton with a whip of his tail.
"Bullshit," he says quietly, one eye on his brother running a finger around the
edges of his pudding cup to make sure he got every last scrap before he give up
his tray while Chad curses a blue streak at him.
Richard fixes him with an offended look, hand splayed out over his own chest.
"Jensen! I would never! Ok, alright, I totally would, but I'm not - on my
honor." And Richard is absolutely full of shit, but he also takes the whole
honor thing really seriously, some weird family thing. Richard on his honor is
as good as a signed contract and that... that's tempting.
The senior dorms are easily the best in the school, more space, private
bathrooms, leniency on curfews so he could take Jared out for a good flight
late in the evenings without trekking two miles off of school grounds to avoid
everyone and their mother watching. It's really important that Jared gets a
chance to shift regularly to make sure he's in peak physical condition in both
forms, but it's kind of high pressure when everyone wants to sneak a peek at
the fabled dragon so they don't do it as much as they really probably should.
Jensen doesn't even know why he's pretending to think about it. He gives
Richard a small nod, enough to make the other's face light up like a fuse
catching and he pats Jensen on the back. Jared gives him a confused look as he
stacks his own tray and lets Jensen lead them out of the cafeteria but doesn’t
say anything. Instead he just works his fingers into Jensen’s belt loop so that
they bump up against each other with every step down the empty hall.
***
Jensen is sitting under the shade of a white poplar, thumbing through the text
for his Alchemical Processes 102 test on Wednesday and minding his own business
when something hard, cold and wet thumps into his lap. He’s completely
justified in yelling out in surprise.
Hearing Jared laugh in his head is still weird if he thinks about it because
it’s not really hearing at all, it’s more like an impression. Right now he’s
not really thinking about it, though; he’s too busy glaring.
Squeak, squeak, squeak! Maybe you’re a were-mouse, Jen! Jared teases, mentally
laughing again. His face isn’t really designed to smile when he’s in his larger
form, but Jensen still knows his brother’s grinning anyway.
“Shut up, it was a yell,” he grumbles, staring up the twelve and three-quarters
feet to Jared’s huge swirling eyes, “And you threw a rock at me!” He plucks the
offending stone from his lap, a big mossy wet spot on the thigh of his jeans
left behind. Great, now he’s going to have to change before the party.
It’s my treasure! Jared'a tail is actually wagging as he dips his head to nose
at the flat stone dangling from Jensen’s fingers with his dainty snout. Both he
and the rock are shiny-wet and although Jared’s never really cold, the stone
itself is cool enough that Jensen can guess it came from the bottom of the lake
a few yards away, its surface still rippling from Jared’s dive-bombing.
Jensen closes his fist as best he can around the rock, slipping it behind his
back before Jared can make off with it. “No. No more treasures.”
Jared makes a pitiful sound, eyes as big as Jensen’s palm going wide and
pleading. But, Jensen!
“No buts! If you collect any more crap we’re not going to be able to move
around the damn room.”
It’s not crap! Jared’s mind-voice snaps indignantly.
“It’s a rock Jared! The only time rocks are treasures are when they’re made of
something special – that’s why they’re called precious stones. Go find a bigass
diamond and you can keep it.”
It is made of something special! Jensen finds himself suddenly tumbled over
onto his side as Jared butts his big wet skull up against him just hard enough
to knock him over. His brother nuzzles at the stone now laying on the spriggy,
spring grass and croons softly over the sound of scales rasping on water-
smoothed granite. Look how pretty it is.
Studying’s a lost cause at this point – clearly Jared’s bored with playing on
his own - so he tosses his book half-heartedly in the direction of his backpack
before flinging his arms across his face. Why couldn’t he have just gotten a
puppy like all the normal kids?
“It’s. A. Rock! A big green rock! The lake is literally made of them!”
Jared snorts at him, a sudden rush of hot air, and again, this form isn’t
really designed to allow for eye-rolls – thank heaven for small blessings – but
Jensen can feel the sentiment pouring off of him anyway. His brother then
promptly rolls over and starts rubbing himself happily against the stone, wings
splayed out across the grass to dry. Sometimes he thinks he prefers it when
Jared just gives him the finger.
Back in their dorm room, they have at least a dozen random green rocks– Jared
has a thing about green - from the bottom of this lake. Jensen would stop
bringing him here if it weren’t such a perfect place to get some alone time so
Jared can fly around and exercise in private. Funny how when all of those
legends talk about dragons being obsessed with treasure, they never bother to
mention that it had a lot less to do with actually value than with ‘pretty’ and
‘shiny’. Jared’s kind of the mythological equivalent of a magpie. Or a really
shitty thrift store.
The quiet sound of grass rustling alerts him to Jared’s movement before the
radiant heat of his huge body moving in close. Aw, it’s ok, Jensen, you don’t
have to be jealous, he croons softly as he thinks it, snuffling at Jensen’s
side. You’ll always be my favorite rock.
Jensen lifts his arms just enough to glance down at where Jared is slowly
rooting his shirt up over his ribs with the tip of his snout, silky scales and
soothing hot breaths against sensitive skin. He mumbles, “Not a rock,” but
doesn’t actually do much to stop his brother besides twitch and try not to
laugh out loud when Jared’s forked tongue swipes ticklishly at his exposed
stomach.
I don’t know, Jared drags the words out mockingly, Big, heavy, just kind of
lays there. Sounds like a rock to me.
“Oh, that’s it!” Jared’s head is in just the right position that when Jensen
curls in around it and knuckles playfully at the broad flat of his forehead he
can also hook a leg behind the ruff of spikes at the back of his skull and hold
him in place. Jared thrashes enough to drag him across the grass, but not
enough to really hurt, not actually trying to get away. Dagger-sharp teeth nip
at his tender abdomen in little love-bites that never break the skin.
“See how many belly rubs you get from this rock, huh? Spoiled brat,” he
threatens with a grunt, fingers digging into that sensitive spot just behind
Jared’s ear ridge, leaving him squirming. Jared lets out a helpless keening
sound, but in his head, he’s still laughing.
You love me too much not to rub my belly, Jared argues, tucking his wings
safely against his back and rolling so that Jensen’s stomach swoops wildly -
who needs roller coasters? Living with Jared would probably be a lot easier if
that wasn’t so damn true.
After a few minutes of what could vaguely be called rough-housing – considering
Jared’s head is the size of Jensen’s whole freaking torso – Jensen ends up
settled down, panting, along the inside curve of Jared’s body, his brother’s
tail wound under him like a makeshift mattress, long, graceful neck stretched
around so he can use Jensen as a pillow. His jaw rests neatly – the perfect
width – on Jensen’s hips, snout just long enough that his breathing warms
Jensen’s neck.
He hums a pleased sound when Jensen scratches firmly at the malleable ridges
above his eyes, the tremors of it rocking through Jensen’s body as good as any
massage. A little adjustment of his hips is required – some people around here
have fully functional sex-drives that tend to make their dicks wake up to say
hello when something vibrates against them – but then he can relax back into
the loose embrace and let his eyes fall closed.
Soon enough they’re going to have to head back to the dorms and get ready – the
girls only agreed to go on the contingency that Jensen and Jared ‘escort’ them,
whatever that’s supposed to mean – but they have time for a little more
relaxation before then.
Maybe Jared hears him thinking about it – his brother swears the mind-hearing
thing doesn’t work that way, but Jensen’s not always sure he believes that – or
maybe it’s just how in-tune he is with Jensen’s emotions that he can feel the
way his stomach clenches with irrational foreboding. Whatever the reason, Jared
flickers his tongue out to soothe over Jensen’s cheek supportively. Yeah, he’s
a weird kid, but damn if Jensen isn’t crazy about him.
It’s going to be okay, he keeps telling himself. It’s going to be fine; there's
no reason for him to feel anxious about this. It's just a party, right? How bad
can it be?
***
Really, really bad is how bad it can be. And not even because anybody pulls
some particularly stupid shit or they get busted like Jensen was betting they
would. No, it's really really bad because at some point the bottle of elf-wine
that was getting passed around for the first hour or so ends up on the rug
instead with them all sitting around it in a circle. Jensen may have actually
had more of a hand in emptying aforementioned bottle than he thought he had,
because his brain seems to be time-lagging enough that it doesn't completely
register with him what is going on until Misha takes the first spin and ends up
with his tongue in Katie's mouth.
Oh. Crap.
Jared's sitting beside him, smiling and bright eyed - irises aqua green at the
moment so he's obviously having a good time. As far as he’s ever been able to
figure out, Jared can’t get drunk, not even a little. Not that he’s tested the
theory often – Jared’s his responsibility and he’s too young for that stuff.
Still, being sober is not the same thing as giving consent. His brother’s
paying attention in the earnest curious way he gets sometimes because as good a
job as he does at faking it, Jared will never actually be human - or as close
to it as the rest of their circle is - and there are things about them all,
particularly interpersonal things, that he just doesn't get.
By the time Jensen's brain slogs through that, it's Genevieve's turn and she's
staring from the bottle to Jared so hard he's pretty sure one or the other is
going to explode from the force. They should really get going now - this is not
how Jared should have his first kiss. He reaches a hand out to follow through
with that plan but Gen's already taking her spin, flashes from the sconces in
Richard's over-sized room bending kaleidoscopically on the curves of the
bottle. Jensen has the sudden ridiculous urge to fling himself between the
glass mouth of it and his brother like it’s a speeding bullet.
Luckily, he doesn't need to because the longneck ends up pointing at Sandy, a
pixie from the freshman class. And... um... Jensen sort of forgets why exactly
he was going to leave there for a second. Sandy and Gen pressed together is
really not an image he's about to complain over.
It goes around the circle, kisses traded every which way; Matt and Kristen,
Katie and Richard, Sophia and Chad, Sandy and Richard, Kristen and Richard –
ok, Jensen’s starting to think Richard’s got this thing rigged somehow. Then
out of left field, it hits him hard enough to turn his stomach upside down –
it’s Jared’s turn, and there’s not a good card in this hand.
There is absolutely no one sitting in this circle – no one in this whole school
– that Jared ought to be kissing right now; or maybe ever. He’s still a kid for
crying out loud! As far as Jensen knows he’s never even had a hard-on – and
he’s pretty sure he’d know, what with Jay being his Royal Majesty of Overshare
and the fact that they sleep practically on top of one another. He should not
be kissing anyone, and he definitely should not be kissing any of these losers.
Jensen’s just about to jump in and say exactly that – sure, they’re his
friends, but it’s one thing to be good enough to hang out with and it’s another
thing to be good enough for his brother to kiss – when he realizes that Jared’s
already spun the bottle.
And it’s landed on him.
Oh, he’s really going to murder Richard. Slowly. Painfully. In flamboyant and
depraved fashion. The name of Ackles the Imp Crusher shall live on in infamy
from this day forward.
The elf-wine was a really bad idea.
Jared just grins at him, completely unperturbed by the fact that according to
the rules of the game he now has to kiss his brother. Then again, he’s not
entirely sure why he’s surprised – not like Jared has a whole lot of boundaries
to begin with.
Ok, well, options. He could call for a do-over, since, you know, incest. Only
not really because he and Jared aren’t biologically related, but still pseudo-
incest, which is almost as bad. But even assuming that Richard wouldn’t make
the friggin’ bottle point at him again, that would mean that Jared would still
be kissing one of those other people, which he’s almost positive he already
mentally vetoed. Alright so, plan B, he’ll just grab Jared and leave and then
have a long, painful conversation about why kissing should be saved for his
soulmate or at least until he hits thirty or…
Jared’s already kissing him. Damn, that elf-wine was a really, really bad idea.
Jared’s mouth is soft and supple and so obviously clueless about what the hell
he’s doing that it’s kind of endearing. If kissing your brother could be
considered endearing, which he really doubts it can. And wow it’s hot.
Temperature hot, not, you know, any other kind of hot. Which it isn’t. Moreso
when Jared pushes his tongue out and touches it to Jensen’s lips and Jensen
gasps – yes, a gasp, that’s why he opened his mouth – and it slides inside.
It’s smooth and slick and at least twice as warm as it should be, just like
everything else on Jared and it tastes like nothing else ever has. Like, if
right had a flavor, it would be the inside of Jared’s mouth.
That’s about the time that Jensen realizes that he’s sort of feeding on his
brother’s lips like a starving man, the tingle in his tongue from the deep,
pleased hum in Jared’s chest and the sweltering heat against his thighs from
Jared’s palms resting there. Jensen pulls away with something embarrassingly
close to a chirp, crab-walking a couple of inches backward across the floor for
some much needed space.
Everyone’s staring, not that Jensen can really blame them – they were probably
putting on a hell of a show just now. He’s either had way too much to drink for
this or not nearly enough and he honestly hasn’t got a clue which it is.
Jared’s glowing. The eyes are the most noticeable, swirling blue-green-amber
lanterns with a dark slice of pupil running through the middle, but it’s under
his scales too, metallic finish burnished from some internal light, spreading
golden across his skin like water seeping into cloth. His t-shirt and jeans are
smoking, ready to burst into flames as his body superheats like he’s about to
shift any second. And that definitely shouldn’t happen indoors – even with the
extra square footage of Richard's room, this place was not made to handle
something as big as Jared can get. Not that Jared seems willing to listen to
that completely valid point because he's too busy crawling across the little
bit of space Jensen put between them to look down on him menacingly. Hungrily.
Jensen may be riding a little too hard on booze and the flash fire endorphins
that have replaced the blood in his veins, but he doesn't have a chance to
second guess it, just does the only thing he can think of when Jared starts to
lean in again, lips parted.
He slaps him. Like a girl.
"Ow!" Jared claps a hand - still mostly a hand, even if his nails are a serious
upholstery hazard at the moment - to the assaulted side of his face. He's still
glowing weirdly, but that pout is all Jensen's brother. Adoptive brother. Oh
fuck, this is the creepiest thing that has ever happened.
Naturally, it's Chad who breaks the bow-string silence. "What the fuck was
that?!"
The rest of the circle erupts into a flurry of mumbled gossip - this is going
to be all over the school in two hours’ time - while Misha and Gen scramble
over each other to get to the bathroom first - Misha wins, yelling "Eat it,
Cortese" through the door while Genevieve pounds on it furiously - and Jensen
really doesn't want to think about what either of them needs private time for
right now.
Luckily, it’s a moot point because Jensen can't think, can't fucking breathe,
needs to get the hell out of Richard's room before Jared shifts and they've got
an incendiary ship-in-a-bottle situation on their hands.
He almost trips when he manages to get his feet under him, Jared's tail twined
around his ankle hard enough he's probably going to have patterned bruises. He
jerks his brother along with him, practically drags him across the floor not
that Jared seems to perturbed by it. In fact, he doesn't really seem to be all
there at the moment at all.
About halfway down the stairs Jared at least starts walking of his own accord -
probably a survival instinct since Jensen is not even close to being above
hauling his ass all the way back to their dorm bodily if he has to - the
unearthly light inside of him slowly dimming while Jensen himself still feels
aflame with the guilt and shame of it.
Once, as their taking a shortcut through the topiary gardens, Jared tries to
say something, but Jensen doesn't know or want to know what it is and cuts him
off with a curt, "No!" Jared doesn’t make another peeps the whole way back. It
may be some kind of world record.
The sound of their own door closing behind them is one part relief, two parts
heart-clenching fear. How the hell does he even explain this? How the hell is
he even supposed to start? You just… you just don’t kiss your brother, not even
your adoptive brother, and especially not when you’ve been personally chosen to
take care of him and help him find his soulmate. It’s wrong on so many levels
Jensen may need to make a chart or something to fully express it. And then
there’s the fact they did it in front of everybody, as if there weren’t already
enough rumors and sideways glances suggesting that he was doing Jay dirty. And
of course there’s-
“Jensen?” Jared voice cuts through his train of thought like a knife through
butter, “I don’t feel right.”
Immediately every other worry flies out of his head like they just developed
wings, all of his focus and concern narrowing down to Jared. Jared, who’s
standing beside the closed door, shoulders hunched, arms and tail wrapped
tightly around himself as though that’s all that’s holding him together.
Jensen’s next to him in three strides, one hand stroking the mess of his bangs
back from his face, the other settling gingerly on his arm. His skin is barely
lukewarm.
Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Maybe… maybe he’s sick or, or somebody
slipped him something. Except Jared’s never been sick a day in his life and
there’s nothing he’s ever heard of that can drug a dragon. Oh God, what if
it’s… No. Somebody would have told him if kissing someone who wasn’t his
soulmate could hurt Jared, right? That’s kind of fucking important information,
surely someone along the line would have mentioned it at some point. But fuck,
the timing’s awfully convenient. Goddamn Richard, Jensen really is going to
murder that bastard if Jared comes out of this with so much as a papercut.
Jared shivers and lurches forward against him, arms and tail instantly trying
to squeeze the life out of Jensen. The skin of his cheek pressed against
Jensen’s temple is too cold, almost clammy, cool breaths ruffling through
Jensen’s hair. They need a doctor or, or a sorcerer or, hell, a vet; just
fucking something, anything. Jensen doesn’t know what to do, can’t move with
Jared holding onto him like this, can’t even breathe, panic igniting his lungs.
Blood is roaring in his ears, almost covering the sound of his own whispered
chant of, “Be okay, please be okay, just stay with me, please, I need you.”
It’s enough that he doesn’t make out the crackling sizzle of fabric catching
fire until the smoke tries to turn his lungs inside out.
Instinctually he pulls back to check Jared over. It’s a struggle with Jared
still holding on for dear life, but he manages to put just enough space between
them to see what’s left of the front of Jared’s shirt smoldering and curling to
ash before it slides off of his body completely. His jeans – cut specially to
allow for his tail – are thicker but he can see where the heat has made holes
in the cloth, revealing random snatches of unmarred flesh and glistening
scales. It doesn’t makes sense because Jared’s not nearly hot enough to the
touch for this, but it’s happening right there in front of Jensen’s eyes. He
doesn’t even realize his own clothes burned away too until he feels the
shocking cool of Jared’s tail winding around his bare thigh, a bright gilded
swath against skin so overheated it’s nearly fuchsia.
“What’s happening?” Jared murmurs, tight and afraid, eyes almost whirling as
the color in his irises oscillates.
“I don’t know,” Jensen croaks back, frenzy threatening to close his throat. His
heart is kicking at his ribs hard enough to bruise and his feet are sliding
through a sticky mess that he realizes after a quick glance down is what’s left
of the rubber from his tennis shoes. His shoes have melted. He’s melted his
shoes.
For a moment that seems to drag on for a year or two, they just stand there
staring at one another helplessly, the heat coming off of Jensen’s naked body –
Jensen’s, not Jared’s; what the fuck? - turning the air hazy. Then, too fast
for Jensen to even react, Jared’s eliminating the bit of space separating them
again, every inch of his body flush with Jensen’s; hip to hip, chest to chest,
mouth to mouth.
Now that he knows it’s there, Jensen can feel the little licks of flame as
what’s left of Jared’s pants catch fire, more like soft breezes whispering
against his skin than true heat. And maybe it just proves that at some point
tonight Jensen went insane that that’s where is mind goes first because he’s
pretty much totally failing to deal with the fact that they’re both naked right
now and pressed up against each other, let alone that he’s got Jared’s tongue
shoved somewhere around his tonsils.
Jared kisses exactly like Jensen would have guessed, if he’d ever bothered to
think about it before – exactly the same way he does everything; unrestrained
and wide open and learning way too fast for his own good. He sucks eagerly at
Jensen’s lips, fingers threading in his hair, down to his chest, his hips then
back up to start it all over again. When he pushes in tight, skin still cool
compared to Jensen’s, the thick, steel-hard length of his cock presses into
Jensen’s hip and Jensen nearly chokes to death on both of their tongues at
once.
He has never once in his entire life seen or even thought about another guy’s
dick and had ‘yes!’ ring through his head but that’s all he can think suddenly,
the only thing in the world he wants. His body surges forward, swamped with
need, his own rapidly filling hard-on shoved roughly against the satiny bumps
of Jared’s scales. He’s swimming in heat, in friction, in that fucking perfect
taste from the inside of Jared’s mouth and somewhere in the back of his mind
he’s aware that there’s a very small part of him saying that it’s wrong and he
shouldn’t do this, but it’s so easy to ignore that when Jared’s tail uncurls
from around his leg and instead nudges up behind his sac with just the right
pressure.
“We’ve gotta- we can’t-“ he manages to mumble out around Jared’s constantly
moving mouth before he gives up on conveying whatever half-formed idea he had
about not setting their beds on fire and just tugs until they’re laid out flat
on the ancient flagstone floor.
Jared spreads out gorgeously underneath him and he has a flash of a moment to
wonder why it never occurred to him how perfect Jared would be like this before
his dragon-brother rumbles a growl and bites at Jensen’s lips with his too-
sharp-to-be-human teeth. It makes precome well out of him so heavily he can
feel each pulse of it dragged straight from his balls.
Even if Jensen had enough experience to have learned a little finesse – if he’d
ever had time to do more than get to first base with a girl, let alone a guy,
before Jared got bored or attention-needy and showed up to wreck things – he
still probably wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing with it from the way just
touching Jared like this is screwing with his head. Add to that the fact that
he got the slinky, tantalizing smoothness of Jared’s tail slithering up the
back of his leg, lighting his nerves up and he never stood a chance.
The pressure of Jared’s extra appendage sneaks between the cheeks of Jensen’s
ass, dexterous tip prodding at his hole. He’s not sure if it’s more confusing
how that makes his dick leap and his body arch back into the pressure or how
Jared even thought to do it, even knew about that concept. Clearly they need to
be having some discussions about the class of people Jared’s hanging around
with when he’s not with Jensen and what exactly they’re teaching him. Later.
Much.
The pressure is gone almost as fast as it appears and instead Jensen feels the
broad, laddered scales of the underside of the tail moving against that
sensitive, untouched place in a relentless slide that leaves him shivering
despite the way that his skin is about to crisp up from the inferno raging
inside of him. The tip of it - copper and gold meeting at a delicate, glinting
point - appears over his shoulder, flirting for just a moment with wrapping
around his neck – it’s not long enough to really manage it in this position,
but that doesn’t stop the idea from being added to the soon to be massive list
of things that never turned him on before but now do – before Jared leans up
just enough to take it into his own mouth and suckle.
Were Jensen to have anything vaguely resembling control over his own body at
the moment, that would probably ruin the rhythm of the filthy grind he’s
working their cocks together with. It’s hands down the most obscene thing he’s
ever witnessed; the stretch of Jared’s lips as he strains up to take more of
the tail – his own fucking tail - into his mouth, the indecent pink of the
inside of his mouth against the metallic scales, the single glossy strand of
saliva that connects the tip of it to his tongue for a moment as he starts to
pull away, leaving the nimble appendage slippery-wet. Fortunately, Jensen has
no such control whatsoever, so his body keeps right on doing its thing while he
tries to convince his brain that playing that image on a loop for the rest of
eternity would be problematic. For some reasons. He’ll think of them
eventually.
Way too late in the game, it hits him what all of that slicking up was about
and the whole argument becomes pointless because his eyes aren’t seeing
anything but the back of their sockets anymore. Between the shape of it and the
wetness, Jared’s tail breaching his hole is more of a non-sensation than
anything, at least until the width builds up and the ends starts to crook and
curl inside of him. The rest of it curves down to push at that place behind
Jensen's balls again and writhe against the inside of his thighs, every little
bit of smooth-rough contact too much and not enough. Fuck, it’s so messed-up
and so good that he loses all semblance of a tempo and just fucks at Jared’s
skin haphazardly, relying on hope and luck to get them both off because if he
doesn’t he’s pretty certain that he’s literally going to die.
Jared’s rubbing up against him; face and hands and every available inch of
skin, somehow resistant to the level of bizarre heat Jensen is putting out - so
damn much like every time he’s ever touched Jensen in his life and so fucking
different too. There’s something mixed up in that thought that feels like it
would be some sort of revelation if it wasn’t for the fact that his brain is a
melted mass of goo sloshing around the inside of his skull. Some day in the
distant future when he relearns how to think, Jensen will try to remember to
mull it over.
He bites at the jut of Jared’s collarbone – skin warmer now, he notes absently
- trails a lick up from it to Jared’s earlobe. His brother moans wantonly,
fingers digging in hard enough against his back for inhuman nails to break
skin, but his tail twitches at the same time and finds a spot inside of Jensen
that makes every muscle in his body spasm at once, so it’s hardly like he
cares. Right now he can’t even believe that anything could hurt him anyway,
this overwhelming strength flowing through his veins like that unnatural warmth
and it just makes him push harder; licking and sucking and biting with the need
to leave his own marks on Jared’s body.
Jared’s scales feel heavenly, inside and out, and his skin is velvety, begging
to be touched by fingers and lips and tongue. And Jensen will, wants to, needs
it – he’s always given Jared everything else, why not this too? Why not? Why
didn’t he ever see it before?
A hard knot of pain-pleasure has replaced his cock and molten lead is bubbling
at the base of his spine like mercury waiting to rise. His lips find their way
back to Jared’s, opening up to swallow the otherworldly growls and keens coming
out of him right along with quieter moans and whimpers. Somebody would probably
come check on all the racket, but with Jared, everyone’s used to it by now,
just another part of going to school with a magical creature. Jensen doesn’t
really care right now – let them come, let them see, show them what they can’t
ever have.
Their dicks push together, soaked with precome and sweat, too slippery to do
anything but slide around between their bellies. Jensen worms a hand between
them and manages to get a grip around both hard, fever-hot lengths, his hand
barely big enough to do anything with them and yet still ridiculously good with
how turned on they both are.
“Jensen,” comes out a plea, frantic and uncertain enough that it drags his
focus away from the stilted stroke of his own fist and the smooth push-pull of
Jared’s tail still teasing at his insides with the entry-code to heaven.
Jared’s eyes are almost all color, the iris bleeding outward like when he
shifts and glowing from within with that same pulsating light. They also look
scared-stupid behind their heavy lids and Jensen gets it, just like that. He
wasn’t wrong earlier – Jared’s never done this before, never had his body tap
into this drive, and now that it is, the mounting pleasure seems terrifying.
Jensen can sympathize.
“It’s okay,” he shushes, balancing on the forearm of his free arm so he can
flutter soft kisses against Jared’s lips. Feebly, Jared tries to reciprocate,
their aim stuttering off track when neither of them seems to be able to really
stop fucking against each other. It feels like the air should be hissing as it
touches Jensen’s skin, oxygen burning away just from the contact. His entire
being is trembling with the intensity of it.
The sharp upward curve of Jared’s body is so sudden Jensen is almost knocked
off balance, white-blind for a moment when Jared’s tail nails that spot again
and doesn’t let up, muscles contracting in something that looks so much like
pain it almost scares Jensen. But Jared’s coming as he does it, warm thick
splashes over Jensen’s fist and his stomach. Beautiful. Maybe the most
beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and it’s all for him. Jared’s very first orgasm
and it’s Jensen’s to keep forever.
That’s all it takes to get him there too, the image of Jared’s face softening
into bliss seared permanently into his mind. Floundering, he loses himself in
the backdraft, turned to ash by rough, relentless pleasure. Gentle brushes all
over telling him that Jared’s still with him, grounding him with firm points of
contact that keep him real.
When he comes down – truly comes down, enough to actually open his eyes and
remember his own name – he’s pressing Jared flat to the floor, his brother’s
arms around him, relaxed but secure, fingering warm caresses into Jensen’s
skin. The air smells like hot stone and his body’s still clutching swollenly at
the empty space inside of him where Jared’s tail was. A normal person wouldn’t
be able to breathe under this kind of weight, but Jared doesn’t meet that
qualification on either count so he’s just taking Jensen’s bulk like it’s a
soft blanket as his heartbeat steadies under Jensen’s ear.
Jensen’s temples throb dully with every easing pulse of his own blood, blunt
pain muted out around an exhaustion that seems to creep right out of his bones
like shadows at sunset. There are things he’s supposed to say or ask or worry
about – panic, he remembers being panicked – but they slip through his grip
like smoke on the wind. He’s so tired and Jared’s so warm, thrumming a
soothing, pleased sound deep in his chest. It feels right, all of it, and the
last thing he remembers for a long while is the sensation of Jared’s tail
wrapping around both of their legs, binding them together.
***
Jensen wakes on sheets that smell like laundry soap and the spicy-hot scent
Jared’s skin. His first thought is to burrow deeper into the soft fabric and go
back to sleep, every inch of him bone-weary like he just finished a marathon.
It takes him a second longer to wonder why the sheets aren’t on fire.
On a harsh gasp that stick in his dry throat, his eyes fly open, slam closed
again when daylight stabs brutally into his retinas.
Jensen? Jared's voice is quiet in his head; tentative, heavy with worry and
exhaustion. It's plenty of incentive to get Jensen to open his eyes again and
blink past the painful brightness until shapes finally resolve.
Jared's in his larger form, almost too big to actually fit inside the room. The
desk in the corner is overturned, one of Jared's paws resting on the wreckage
of its matching chair, and Jensen doesn't even want to think about the rest of
the detritus that's probably crushed under his brother's bulk. Just looking at
the askew shelves is enough to tell him that a good portion of Jared's
carefully guarded treasures are probably among the mix. His brother’s body is
resting at the foot of the bed, neck and tail swooping in to make a copper-
armored blockade around the bed, head resting on the mattress next to Jensen.
One of Jared's wings is stretched out over him like a blanket and he can't see
the floor from this position, but the rough grating sound of broken stone
suggests that when he gets up, he'll find gouges from the steely points of
Jared's claws where he’s obviously struggled to find purchase in this position.
"Are you okay? Did you get stuck?" comes out reflexively. When Jared was little
he used to have trouble switching from one form to the other, sometimes trapped
one way for weeks at a time before he could manage to shift again. It hasn't
happened in a long time, but Jared tends to lose control a bit in emotional
situations.
A huff of furnace-like air in his face is what he gets for an answer and that
sensation like Jared's rolling his eyes again.
I'm fine. How areyou? He nudges at Jensen's bare chest with his snout like he
can prod Jensen into admitting he's hurt. Which he's fairly certain he isn't
actually. He runs his hands over his arms and chest just to make sure, but
aside from feeling completely wrung out, everything seems fine.
"I'm okay," he nods, reaching out to scratch at Jared's eye ridge reassuringly.
The metallic is peeling a little bit there, time for another molt; Jared must
be growing again. "What happened?"
To Jared's credit - or maybe just proof of how worried he was - he doesn't say
anything smart ass about... about that. Fuck, they're really going to have to
deal with that in the very near future. But maybe not right this second.
You wouldn't wake up, his brother bumps up against his side again with his
nose, squirms it underneath Jensen's back like he can hide there. After you
gave my fire back, you just kept sleeping. You scared me, Jensen.
"Your fire?"
Jared makes this little move that he supposes is the dragon equivalent of a
shrug. There's that rasping squeal of rock crushing again and Jensen winces at
the thought of explaining that to the school. Maybe he can bribe somebody from
of the AP Transmutation class into fixing it.
"Jay, c'mon, get up here, I want to talk," isn't entirely true - there are
things going on here he'd really prefer not to ever have to deal with - but at
least it will save the masonry a little bit.
Easy as that, Jared shifts into the more compact version of himself, scrambling
up over the foot of the bed to bury his face against Jensen's neck instead.
Evidently Jared's not so keen on the talking either.
They're both naked - Jared always is after he shifts and Jensen can feel that
he is too from the way the one thin layer of cotton sheet heats between their
bodies. Because he never managed to get dressed again after he gave his little
brother, his charge, a handjob. Fuck, that's so screwed up. He'd give a billion
dollars and at least two fingers for a cigarette right now.
"So, your fire," Jensen prompts again and again gets a shrug in response. "Oh
come on! What does that mean? What's going on Jared?"
"I don't know, ok!" is too loud considering Jared is right next to Jensen's
ear, but the pain only tempers the surge of guilt that that tone of voice never
fails to get out of him. "It was mine and then you took it and then you gave it
back and then you wouldn't wake up. That's all I know."
He slinks back enough that Jensen can get a look at his eyes, an almost perfect
three-way balance of green, blue and brown. Serious, and slightly unhappy going
by the little pout to his lips. It takes way more effort than it should to
strangle the sudden urge that swells in his chest to kiss those lips flat
again.
Jensen softens his continuing interrogation by brushing the hair away from
Jared's face with his fingers, dragging his nails softly over the scales at the
nape. "Well how do you know that?"
"I don't know," Jared answers miserably. His fingers dance nervously over
Jensen's exposed torso, sheet riding lower around his hips as Jay fidgets
unconsciously. That touch does things to him that it shouldn't; specifically
things between his legs that are going to be sort of difficult to hide if Jared
looks down. Jensen sort of hates himself at the moment. "I just... it's like...
I know how to fly, right? Nobody ever taught it to me, I just can. It's sort of
the same thing. I just know."
He glances up at Jensen eyes pleading with him for understanding and Jensen has
no recourse but to nod his head, even if the response is no little bit
disappointing. It doesn't make sense, any of it. He's never heard of anything
like this, and he's read just about every book out there on dragons and dragon-
magic. Of course, they are notoriously secretive creatures, so the fact that
Jensen doesn't know about it doesn't necessarily mean it never happens but...
Damnit, why can't things be easy, just occasionally? It’d make for a refreshing
change.
"Are you mad at me?" Jared quietly asks the curve of Jensen’s shoulder. His
soft lips rub against the skin there, dragging prettily from where he's licked
them wet. He so desperately needs to stop doing things with his mouth if he
expects Jensen to survive this conversation.
"What? No, of course not." Jensen strokes his hand down Jared's spine in what
he absolutely intends to be innocent soothing, "You didn't do anything wrong."
His fingers digging in naturally at the base of Jared's tail, knuckles brushing
the swell of his ass. A decade plus of touching Jared's body with impunity,
without a thought, and just like that, it's all brand new and forbidden because
massaging the muscles at the base of Jared's tail has always made his brother's
eyes go glazed but it's never made Jensen want to rut against him like a horny
dog before.
He jerks his hand back the moment the urge hits and when Jared blinks the
momentary pleasure-daze away, his eyes are accusing.
"But you're mad."
Jensen sighs, trying to find a way to explain to his brother that some time
last night the world started spinning backward and he hasn't found his center
of gravity yet. "Not at you. I'm just mad that I don’t understand what’s
happening. I just don't want to hurt you again."
Jared's head cocks to the side, mouth pouting temptingly again for a moment
before he says, "You didn't hurt me."
"I took your fire." Whatever that means.
"Yeah, but it didn't hurt, it was just weird," Jared argues, levering up so
he's looking down at Jensen across the space of three inches, tops. "It kind of
freaked me out, but it didn't hurt."
Humid breath tickles at his lips, dampening them just enough that he knows they
would cling if he craned his neck that extra bit to meet Jared in a kiss. This
needs to stop, for that sake of Jensen's sanity if nothing else, seeing as
Jared's virtue is already pretty well shot. Emotions he's had almost his entire
life are suddenly turned on their head, fitting inside of him wrong except for
how it's not wrong at all; how they each slot into place easy as pie like
Jensen's been carrying his feelings around wrong all this time. Fuck, he's
going to hyperventilate.
"Well, I'm going to figure out a way to make sure it doesn't happen again." It
would probably help with that if he wasn't all pressed up against Jared, but
since Jared doesn't so much as flinch when Jensen tries to shove him back and
gain a little breathing room, that doesn't seem likely to happen.
"Why?" Jared actually looks worried. Or maybe even hurt.
"Because Jared, that's not... it isn't normal." He's not sure which part of
what happened he's talking about - the scary heat thing or the incestuous
screwing - but it's true any which way around.
Instead of giving him the space he so desperately needs, Jared's closing the
minute gap, foreheads pressed together, noses side by side, eyelashes tangling.
No room for a spare thought between them.
"It feels better now," Jared murmurs, lips teasing at the corner of Jensen's
clamped-tight mouth, "Now that I have you."
Powerless to stop it, Jensen shivers. "You've always had me, Jay."
He barely has a chance to register Jared's low growl before his brother is
nipping harshly at his lips again, a snapshot memory of last night flashing in
front of his eyes along with it, making his dick jerk.
"I'm not a little kid, Jensen, don't treat me like a little kid and tell me
it's the same. It's not the same. I can feel it's not the same."
And there's nothing, nothing at all that Jensen can do to dispute that because
he know it too - it's not same. "Jared," he whispers, so close to begging - for
what, he doesn't even know - that he's ashamed. "You're my brother."
"So?"
"So?" Jensen fires back incredulously, hand fitting against Jared's jaw to try
and push him back. It's pointless, Jared's stronger than Jensen could ever
dream of being, but he has to try before he does something crazy like tear into
Jared with his bare hands or shove his tongue in his mouth or maybe just scream
like a tiny, impotent child. "So you have a soulmate out there somewhere!
Somebody you're supposed to be with!"
Stupidly, that's the thing that makes Jared rear back, gaze flitting all over
Jensen's face like they've never seen each other before.
"Wow," Jared says slowly, awestruck, "You're really, really stupid."
"Hey!" Whatever else Jensen might have had to say about that little gem is lost
when Jared sucks it right out of his mouth. Jensen's mouth is open, so Jared
doesn't waste time before he’s licking around the inside, delving at all the
tender places that make Jensen want to wriggle and melt into a puddle all at
one. There's a damn good reason Jared's got the highest GPA in their grade - he
learns like you wouldn't believe.
His lithe body slides over, braced just enough that he's not actually crushing
Jensen into the mattress but still close enough that their hips connect in that
way they do, like two puzzle pieces made to fit together. Big hands slip
underneath Jensen's body, pushing small circles into his skin that match the
motion of their dicks – Jensen goes from half- to fully-hard so fast it makes
the room spin - and the curl of Jared's tongue coaxing his own to move.
Jensen's hands are on Jared's shoulders and he's pretty sure at one point that
was an attempt to push Jared away but now it's more like holding on for the
ride as his body ignores all of his best intentions. Jared's touch feels so
good, so warm and right, groping at the tight muscles in his back, up to his
shoulders--
Jensen gasps because it's the only thing he can do, drowned in a brand new
sensation that completely defies description. It's searing hot, but not
painful, muted but sharp, soft and rough and a hell of a lot like having a hand
on his cock except it's touching his fucking back.
"What the fuck was that?" is a squeak, no point in even denying it, accusations
of were-mouse-hood be damned. Jared backs off easily now as Jensen struggles to
a sitting position, twisting and turning until he can catch a glimpse over his
shoulder of something at definitely doesn't belong there. Something shiny. And
green.
A piece of broken chair jabs into Jensen's bare foot as he stumbles off the
bed, curses, stumbles some more until he finally makes it to the dresser - off-
angle from where it usually sits, one corner crushed in from Jared's bulk. He
turns around to get a view of his back in the mirror and...
Scales. He has scales. A little patch of a dozen or so glossy emerald-green
scales. He paws at them stupidly in the vain hope that they'll just flake off
somehow but they stay put, just like the rest of his skin - silky and
surprisingly sensitive.
"What the fuck, Jared!?" Alright, now he's yelling and he doesn't even really
feel bad because - hello! Scales!
His brother's eyes ricochet off every available surface that isn't Jensen.
Guilty as charged. "I didn't really know that was going to happen," he admits
sheepishly. He bites a kiss-pink lip, ducks his head so he's looking up at
Jensen through messy bangs and thick eyelashes. He's also still naked, kneeling
on the bed with his feet tucked under his butt and his thighs spread around the
bobbing jut of his hard-on. Jensen's pretty sure all of that qualifies as
cheating somehow.
"They're pretty though!" he add hastily, all smiles and dimples and yes,
definitely cheating.
But Jensen is not a man to be distracted right now - mostly - because he had
sex with his little brother last night and ended up with scales, like the
weirdest STD in the known universe; not to mention that they're a big flashy 'I
molested my brother' sign literally stuck on his back. "You didn't know that
was going to happen!? So you knew that some of this was going to happen?"
"Well, not about, you know," he shifts uncomfortably, making a vague hand
motion that's not nearly emphatic enough to cover all the crap that they've
been through in the last twelve hours, "but I'd sorta guessed that you were my
soulmate."
There's this sound in Jensen's head that's a lot like the noise of Jared's
claws ripping through the stone floor but he suspects is actually the sound of
every single thought he has grinding to a halt at the same time.
"What?" he chokes out, sputters and then repeats it all because it felt so good
the first go around. "What? When?"
Jared gives him that damnedable shrug again and says, "When I was like, eight."
"What!?" Ok, maybe not the best word of the day ever, but applicable
nonetheless.
"Jensen," Jared snorts, air in front of his face waving with heat for a moment,
"Who else could I ever be with but you?"
There’s an argument against that somewhere and it’s probably an excellent one,
but Jensen’s not functioning nearly well enough at the moment to find it.
"So- So you just... just what? Decided to string me along for six years?" He's
not 100% sure what he's mad about right now, but yelling feels good, justified.
Safe. Not inexplicably scaly and incestuous.
The little crinkle that Jared gets in the middle of his forehead when he's
confused makes an appearance. "Well, I kinda thought you knew. It was pretty
obvious."
"Obvious!?" The word bounces off of the walls incriminatingly, settling on the
floor among the rubble of their belongings.
"Um, yeah," Jared nods awkwardly, "Everybody knows."
"Everybody does not know!" Jensen hurls back, kicking aside broken furniture so
he can loom over Jared where he's still perched on the bed. "I think somebody
would have mentioned it to me if they all thought that I was..." Was fucking my
little brother. Like they've all been joking about for years. Like half the
school seriously thinks is true. Like he actually did.
Oh yeah, he's so going to kill Richard. Somehow or other, this is definitely
Richard's fault.
Jensen slumps onto the bed heavily, every ounce of energy from the fear and
anger melting out of him, leaving him empty.
"I'm your soulmate," he says quietly, staring at the wall. The words sit better
on his tongue than he's entirely comfortable dealing with.
Jared's too-warm hand rests on his thigh and Jensen is once again struck by the
fact that they're both still naked. "Glad we're on the same page."
"How the hell are we going to tell Mom and Dad?"
The question comes out of nowhere, but he guesses it's just as good as anything
else he could ask at the moment. This one at least he can make a plan for. But
Jared is leaning in to catch Jensen's eye and giving him this skeptical look
that as much as flat-out says 'wise up, dumbass'.
"Mom and Dad know?!" His hands do this weird spastic thing all on their own,
almost whapping into Jared’s face.
"I told you it was obvious!" Jared shoots back just as incredulously.
Well this makes large portions of his childhood much more disturbing. Oh shit,
this is why they never got Jared his own room. Wait, do they think... Ew. Ok,
he officially does not want to think about his parents thinking about him
having sex with his adopted brother. Ugh.
"Is this why I was Chosen? They knew the whole time?"
Jared thumbs a slow arc to the inside of Jensen's thigh, responding hesitantly.
"I don't know, Jensen. Maybe we just got lucky?"
Yeah, lucky. Look at all of Jensen's luck. He barks a laugh that turns mildly
hysterical in the middle, toeing one of Jared's stupid green lake rocks across
the floor.
"D- Do you," Jared starts, biting his lip before he can continue, "Do you not
want me?"
There's genuine anxiety in his eyes when Jensen manages to meet them, looking
so much like a little kid and so much not at the same time. Jensen has no
choice but to crumble under the weight of it, a small resistant piece of him
crushed to powder in its wake.
"Jay. No, it's not that, it's just..." His hand finds its way to Jared's cheek,
molding to it effortlessly. "I've spent my whole life thinking I knew what was
going on and now it turns out I was wrong and everybody but me knew about it
and oh, by the way, I have a soulmate and had sex with my little brother and
developed scales. So. Yeah. It's just a lot to wrap my head around."
The heat of Jared's palm seeps into his hand when Jared captures it and holds
it in place for him to nuzzle at, scraping his teeth over the fleshy pad of
Jensen's thumb before soothing it with a lick.
"I love you," his dragon-brother - his soulmate - whispers like a secret even
though he's told Jensen a million times in a million ways. It's different now,
though - Jared was right on the money.
Even if Jensen's not exactly sure what to do with all the rest of it, this one
thing he knows, this one unchangeable thing. "I know. I love you too."
"Good," Jared chirrups, mood flipped sunny-side-up just like that. He nips at
Jensen’s thumb again, grinning, playful and also something brand new and
sultry.
A quick, unexpected tug almost lands Jensen in his lap, catching himself with a
hand on Jared's muscular chest and no room to do anything but feel. "Now kiss
me," his brother demands, mischievous and pleased with himself like when he
used to order to be picked up and held or to have Skittles for dinner.
Jensen grumbles, "Spoiled brat," gamely but it gets slurred around Jared's lips
because he's already giving in the way he inevitably does with Jared. He still
hasn’t got a sweet clue what’s happening between them or where they’re supposed
to go from here, but somehow with Jared moaning contentedly into his kiss, that
doesn't feel like much of a hardship.
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