Pull Me Out From Under Part II
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 3.5k (for this part, 15k total)
Warnings and kinks: Torture, noncon, abuse (not between J2), character death (not J2), Vampires
Summary: From a prompt over at the kink meme:"Jared's a hunter. He's never had any qualms about killing things that go bump in the night but one night he goes back to another hunter's lair/house/whatever for a beer and sees that he's keeping vampire!Jensen prisoner and using him as a slave as well as beating/torturing/raping him whenever he wants." For the full prompt, go here.
Disclaimer: I don't own Jared, Jensen, or anyone else. This is fiction.
Jared lets him have a few hours without the chains while he he cleans his guns and the knife he used on Jack. Jensen curls up on the couch, rarely taking his eyes off Jared and flinching every time he moves. Finally, Jared chains him back up, ignoring the way the guy starts trembling the instant Jared reaches for his wrists. Jensen’s expression of resignation turns to surprise when Jared leaves him on the couch, calling back, “Be back soon, don’t try and run away.”
Jared’s a good hunter when it comes to ghosts, werewolves, vampires, hell, even demons, but when it comes to actual game, he’s somewhat out of practice. The rules of using this safehouse include avoiding all contact with any of the neighboring towns, which are hours away anyway, so Jared can’t just hit up a supermarket or butcher.
He finally brings down a doe and hauls it back to the cabin with the help of the truck parked out back and gets the carcass strung up just as the sun’s going down.
Jared doesn’t bother unchaining Jensen when he brings him out back, just leads him straight to the dead animal and says, “Dinner.” Jensen only hesitates for a second, his pupils going huge, presumably at the smell, before he closes his mouth over the white spot at the base of the doe’s soft throat.
Jared wants to leave him to it but his training won’t let him: leaving a vampire, probably greatly strengthened by a feeding, just as the last traces of daylight are leaving the treetops would be phenomenally stupid. So Jared stands behind the kneeling vampire with a gun in one hand and a stake in the other, watching as the tension bleeds out of Jensen’s shoulders and some color returns slowly to his cheeks.
Although Jensen looks marginally healthier after he’s wiped the last trickle of blood from his chin, he also still looks exhausted. Jared notes with disappointment that the bruises and cuts haven’t even faded. He lets Jensen sink back onto the couch while he cleans and butchers the deer, thanking whatever hunter installed a huge freezer in the cellar. The remaining blood from the carcass also gets stored in the freezer; Jared figures Jensen’s going to need another feeding within the next few days. The whole process takes him a few hours, but when he’s done he rewards himself with a huge slab venison and a beer.
Jensen seems particularly alarmed at the sight of the beer in Jared’s hand and Jared’s mind immediately jumps to all the ways Jack-the-asshole could’ve instilled that fear in him. He’s pretty sure the marks he can see are the least of Jensen’s damage. Speaking of which...
“Hey, so that blood do anything for you?” Jared asks, leaving his beer in the kitchen and coming to sit on the couch beside Jensen. Jensen ducks his head, a mumbled answer getting lost on the way. Jared waits for more, but Jensen just sits still, bowed, waiting.
“Seriously, you healin’ now? ‘Cause you don’t look much better to me.” No point in sugar-coating it. Jensen shakes his head.
“It’s slow, but it’s happening. If you- I can still... My mouth...” Jensen trails off.
“What about it?” Jared’s gaze catches on said mouth and there’s something fascinating about the way white teeth catch on plump, wet lips.
“If you need to... use me. I’m not healed yet, but you can use my mouth.”
It takes Jared a full 30 seconds to understand what Jensen’s saying, what he’s offering Jared. It takes him another moment to understand what he means by “not healed yet.” He can’t even begin to find a way to respond, rendered speechless with revulsion. He’d figured out that Jack was raping Jensen, but the evidence still sends a shot of horror through him.
Jensen looks more terrified than ever and Jared curses his own utter lack of a poker face.
“No. I’m not going to be ‘using’ you for that.” Jared can hear his voice shake with anger; he tries to unclench his fists, even out his breathing.
Jensen doesn’t look relieved - if anything, he looks ready to bolt, but he takes a deep breath and meets Jared’s eye.
“If you’re going to kill me, please, just do it. Please.” The last word is a whisper, an edge of panic cutting into Jensen’s voice. Jared feels an unfamiliar heaviness in his chest that he can’t shove down.
“If I were gonna kill you, you’d be dead. I don’t drag it out, and I don’t play with my prey,” Jared growls.
“Then why did you take me?” Jensen spits, an accusation Jared doesn’t understand underlying his words.
“I don’t know. Maybe I should have left you there to starve until that piece of shit finally put you out of your misery!” Jared doesn’t know why he’s yelling, only that there’s anger blazing through his veins: anger at Jack for being such a twisted, fucked up excuse for a human being, anger at Jensen for expecting Jared to be just the same, and anger at himself for somehow saddling himself with a broken vampire.
Jensen shrinks back from Jared’s outburst, eyes immediately dropping to the floor, shoulders hunching in. He looks small, helpless even, and there’s guilt burning like acid in the pit of Jared’s stomach.
Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake, this guy isn’t even human. It’s like kicking a dog.
“I’m sorry. Look, just forget it, okay? It’s about time for bed anyway.”
Jensen doesn’t stop shaking, even after he’s safe behind the bars of his cell.
***
They don’t speak of it again for several days, though Jared can tell Jensen’s still waiting to find out what Jared wants from him. Instead, they fall into an uneasy truce, one in which Jensen obeys Jared’s every word and Jared has to keep reminding himself to lock Jensen up when he leaves for a run or to go fishing.
Jensen does not like fish blood, Jared learns. It seems that bigger mammals are best, but he’ll drink a squirrel if he has to. He didn’t exactly turn his nose up at the fish, just blushed deep pink and mumbled an apology.
Jared finds himself watching Jensen for signs of improvement and he finds them, though not nearly as many as he’d like. Jensen can walk across a room without stopping to lean against a chair and the oldest bruises are yellowing and even the deepest cuts seem to be healing.
Jared knows this because Jensen asked for permission to use Jared’s shower and proceeded to undress before Jared had a chance to back out of the bathroom. He left the door open, too, telling himself it was a precaution and not because the mere sound of water hitting Jensen’s skin was enough to have Jared itching to follow the vampire in.
Jared’s fairly nocturnal - a common side effect of the hunting lifestyle - so he and Jensen often find themselves sitting in the living room together, Jared with his weapons and Jensen either watching him or staring into the fire. He’s recently started taking some of the paperbacks lying around into his cell with him when he goes to bed, but when Jared’s around, he seems to prefer watching the hunter.
Jared’s making silver bullets now, seated on the floor in front of the fireplace, melting various bits of metal into shape. Jensen’s more relaxed Jared’s ever seen him, curled up in his usual spot on the couch with a blanket around him. Jared keeps glancing up to find Jensen watching him curiously. After a few moments of awkward eye contact, Jared finally breaks the silence.
“What? What is it?”
Jensen shrugs, but when Jared doesn’t look away he speaks up.
“This isn’t your real home, is it?” Jensen sounds hesitant, like he doesn’t think he’s supposed to be asking.
Jared’s surprised by the question and by the fact that Jensen noticed, let alone cared enough to ask about his home.
“No, this is just a hunter’s safehouse. We come here when we need to go to ground, or we need some time off. Or when we’re injured, or after a really bad hunt. It’s a good place, but it’s not mine. I don’t get the chance to go back to my place too often.”
Jensen’s quiet for a moment and when he speaks his voice is low, with that gentle rasping quality that Jared’s starting to think isn’t a result of the abuse but just the way Jensen talks.
“Jack... He explained it to me. What it’s like, being a hunter. Seeing all those terrible things, doing - Well, you know. He told me how it messes up your head, makes you need - ” Jensen’s voice breaks and he clears his throat, shooting Jared a rueful look. “Makes you need to blow off some steam sometimes. That’s what he kept me for. Better with a vampire than with a real person.”
Jared’s blood is pounding in his ears by the time Jensen falls quiet. The vile words sound even worse in Jensen’s soft, matter of fact tone. He really believes it, Jared thinks. That needs to change.
“He told you - I know, okay, I know there are hunters out there who only do this because our life has no rules. They think we can do whatever we want, because we’re saving people, that it evens out in the end.” Jensen is nodding along, wide eyes fixed on Jared. “They’re full of shit. Jack was a sick fuck who just chose you because nobody was ever going to notice or care what he did to you.”
“I know,” Jensen murmurs softly. “This is what I’m good for. This is what I can do. I can do it for you, too.”
Jared recoils from the words, but struggles to keep his anger in check this time.
“I thought we talked about this. I’m not interested.”
For a moment, Jensen looks as though he’s going to argue. Instead he ducks his head and Jared watches that pink flush creep up his cheeks, finds himself wondering if his skin would be warm to the touch or cold like death. He’s never bothered touching a vampire except to kill it before. When Jensen speaks again, Jared’s deep in musings about what Jensen’s skin might feel like under his palms.
“If you’re not going to - if you’re not interested, what do you want me to do? You haven’t killed me, I’m not a freeloader, and it doesn’t look like you’re letting me go anytime soon.” He says it so matter-of-factly, like he never even expected to be set free. It makes Jared wonder.
“How long did Jack keep you?”
Jensen shifts, taken aback by the question.
“I... I’m not sure. I think it must’ve been something like a year. Maybe more... He caught me after he killed the nest that made me, you know.”
“You weren’t living with them, though, right?” Jared asks, remembering Jack’s words.
“No, I was on my own. I ran away the day after they changed me. A couple of months later Jack caught me and took me back to his place.”
Jared blinks in surprise. He always imagines vampires being old, and judging by their fashion choices, some of the ones he’s killed have definitely been around for a while. Jensen only looks to be in his twenties and Jared is realizing he might actually look his age. Doesn’t mean he’s not a bloodsucking monster, Jared reminds himself.
“Never thought about running away?” Jared asks.
“I tried, once. It was a month after he caught me. I made it all the way out of town before he caught up with me.” Jensen swallows hard. “He made me beg to be allowed to come back.”
Jared’s stomach turns over.
“He didn’t take the chains off me again after that, and he started keeping Dead Man’s Blood in the house. He didn’t like to use it, liked it better when I had the strength to struggle.” Jensen shrugs, like his words aren’t creeping under Jared’s skin, making him wish he’d actually killed Jack. “Sometimes I’d try not to fight back, but he’d just push harder. Said it wasn’t fun unless I was screaming. I wasn’t going to last much longer, you know? If you hadn’t come, I mean. He was getting bored, it was getting harder for me to put up a fight.”
Jensen pauses, looks up into Jared’s horrified eyes.
“I’m trying to say thank you. This is better than where I was. Even if you - change your mind, if you want to use me, even if you kill me - this is better.”
Jared can only nod.
***
Jared lies in bed, staring at the ceiling and seeing only Jensen’s honest green stare. He’s not how Jared expected, not really. He’s soft-spoken and quiet, but Jared had attributed that to the fact that he was beaten half to death only a week ago. Now, Jared’s starting to think this is just how Jensen is: gentle, serious, maybe a little shy. He wonders what Jensen was like as a human - probably sweet, maybe a little too quiet to be Jared’s type, but definitely hot enough to be on his radar.
He’s not human. It’s becoming a mantra for Jared, a reminder he needs more and more.
Jared knows what it feels like to have his bones snapped like twigs by a vampire. He knows that they can hear, see, and smell far better than he can, and they use that fact to their advantage. He’s watched people die from blood loss, watched a person turn into a monster that had to be put down, watched as razor sharp fangs tore through soft skin like so much tissue paper.
Yeah, he’s not getting any sleep tonight.
Padding quietly down the hall to the kitchen, Jared pauses at the door to the cellar. There’s a sound - not loud, the cellar is meant to be soundproof - emerging from behind the door. There it is again - quiet moaning, mumbled words... Begging, Jared thinks. He eases the door open a crack and listens.
“No... No, please, stop, please. I’ll be good, I won’t - Please!”
Jensen’s having a nightmare, Jared realizes. He feels like he’s intruding on something private but he doesn’t want to leave Jensen alone with his fear.
Jared settles for shutting the door louder than necessary and is rewarded by a sharp gasp from the cellar, then silence.
***
Jared’s starting to get antsy from being out of the game for so long. It’s been over a week, which is more than his usual “vacation”, and he needs a good hunt. He’s hogging the safehouse, too, although he knows few other hunters actually use this place.
He brings it up after dinner one night, Jared drinking his beer on the couch and Jensen squeezing the last drops of blood from a bag. It’s from a buck Jared brought down a few days ago and Jensen says it’s the best he’s had.
“Was thinkin’ of going on a hunt,” Jared starts. “The monster kind, not deer.”
Jensen lowers the empty bag.
“Am I - Do I go with you?”
Jared nods.
“Can’t leave you here, it’s a hunter’s place and I’m not the only one who comes here. Think you can handle the road now?”
Jensen nods eagerly.
“Yeah, I’m good, just a few cuts and my ribs still messed up, but I’m fine. Where’re we going?”
Jared almost laughs. This is the most animated he’s ever seen Jensen and the change is palpable. His eyes are sparkling, cheeks flushed, there’s even an upward tilt to the corner of his mouth like he might smile.
“There’s a thing over in Washington. State, not DC. It’ll take us a couple days to drive over; I was thinking we’d leave tomorrow. Gotta lay down some ground rules first, though.”
Jensen nods attentively and sits up straighter.
“You do everything I say. You follow my orders without question. You don’t talk to anyone else. This one’s obvious, but I’ll say it anyway: you don’t drink anyone.”
Jensen’s still nodding.
“You don’t touch my weapons and you don’t leave my sight unless I tell you to. Got it?”
“Got it.”
Neither of them mention that most of these rules are clearly designed to keep Jensen safe.
They leave the next evening, just as the sun is dipping low over the trees. Jensen can be in the sun, but it burns his skin after only a few minutes of exposure. Jared doesn’t mind driving at night; he figures they can get a motel in the morning and sleep through the day.
***
Jared starts missing the cabin after only a few hours. It’s weird, because he’d been so eager to leave, but now that they’re out in the real world he can’t seem to keep reality at bay. He’s going on a hunt with a vampire he kidnapped, with no guarantee said vampire won’t rip his throat out in his sleep or escape for a snack and end up on a killing spree.
He didn’t put the chains on Jensen in the car but he’s starting to regret it. Jensen’s staring out the passenger window at the dim twilight filtering through the trees and every time he shifts Jared tenses, ready to grab the gun beside him. After a while, he thinks Jensen must’ve noticed because he’s sitting very still, making only slow, gentle movements.
Fuck, Jared thinks, Now I’ve scared him. Except, of course, he shouldn’t care that Jensen’s scared. He shouldn’t be thinking about what Jensen’s feeling at all. He shouldn’t even have Jensen with him - this hunt doesn’t seem particularly dangerous, but he knows how easy it can be to lose focus and -
Jensen shifts again and Jared looks over at him. He’s curled against the passenger door wearing one of Jared’s hoodies and a pair of Jared’s jeans. He has the hood pulled up and he’s gazing out the window with such a peaceful expression on his face that Jared wants to keep him there, just like this, as long as he can.
Jared wrenches his gaze back to the road and sternly tells himself to focus on the case, go over the details, and stop thinking about Jensen.
It’s going to be a long drive.
***
The floor is grimy in Jack’s lair. Jensen wishes he could clean it, or have a bed. Or a pillow. A blanket. A warm, soft blanket to wrap himself in, something to separate him from the hard cement pressing into his bruised flesh. He shifts and pain slices through his side, bright hot agony from his ribs to his collarbone. He wonders for a moment if anything’s broken, then tries to sink back into his fantasy.
“Leech. Get over here.”
Jensen’s body responds almost without input from his mind, which is still trying to escape into fuzzy numbness. He pulls himself up and starts to stand, but a sharp tug on the chain clipped to his collar brings him back to his knees.
“Crawl. On your knees like the bitch you are.”
By the time Jensen makes it over to where Jack is sprawled in his one throne like leather armchair, Jensen’s knees and palms are stinging with scrapes. He stops in front of Jack and is rewarded with another hard tug of his collar.
“Suck me.”
Jensen’s stomach churns but he pulls himself up and unbuttons Jack’s pants. The man is physically repulsive to him, from his smell to his voice to the feel of his skin. He’s not hard yet - Of course he isn’t, you’re not crying yet - so Jensen starts to work him with one hand.
“Put it in your mouth,” Jack tells him, grabbing onto Jensen’s hair. He’s pulling and shoving Jensen’s face into his crotch, rubbing Jensen’s lips against himself. Jensen opens for him and whimpers when Jack grinds his face down even harder. The instant the sound leaves him, Jack’s dick starts to swell, growing to fill Jensen’s mouth.
“That’s it. You’re just a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”
There’s something sharp running over the side of Jensen’s neck, stinging pain bursting over the skin of his collarbone, his shoulder, down his back. It’s a knife, something that would never have hurt Jensen when he was at his full strength. Now, though, the pain is enough to bring tears to his eyes and he lets out another whimper.
“If you’re good and you make me come with that pretty mouth, I won’t even fuck your ass tonight,” comes Jack’s voice from just above Jensen’s head. Jensen feels a quick flash of hope and tries to make it good, moving his tongue and sucking hard. Jacks’ hips are thrusting up into his mouth while his left hand clenches in Jensen’s hair, his right hand busy running the knife over Jensen’s skin.
Just as Jack’s breathing starts to stutter and his movements are becoming erratic, the knife digs into the dip between Jensen’s ribs, hard. Jensen lets loose a cry and inadvertently scrapes his teeth along the length of Jack’s cock, earning himself a hard, ringing blow to the head and another gash on his ribs. Jack hits him again, sending him sprawling across the filthy floor.
When Jensen looks up again, Jack is looming over him wearing a vile grin. He tugs on Jensen’s chain.
“Turn around, Leech. Show me that pretty ass, only thing you’re good for. Didn’t think I was really going to give you the night off, did you?”
Jensen starts to beg.
***
Part III
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 3.5k (for this part, 15k total)
Warnings and kinks: Torture, noncon, abuse (not between J2), character death (not J2), Vampires
Summary: From a prompt over at the kink meme:"Jared's a hunter. He's never had any qualms about killing things that go bump in the night but one night he goes back to another hunter's lair/house/whatever for a beer and sees that he's keeping vampire!Jensen prisoner and using him as a slave as well as beating/torturing/raping him whenever he wants." For the full prompt, go here.
Disclaimer: I don't own Jared, Jensen, or anyone else. This is fiction.
Jared lets him have a few hours without the chains while he he cleans his guns and the knife he used on Jack. Jensen curls up on the couch, rarely taking his eyes off Jared and flinching every time he moves. Finally, Jared chains him back up, ignoring the way the guy starts trembling the instant Jared reaches for his wrists. Jensen’s expression of resignation turns to surprise when Jared leaves him on the couch, calling back, “Be back soon, don’t try and run away.”
Jared’s a good hunter when it comes to ghosts, werewolves, vampires, hell, even demons, but when it comes to actual game, he’s somewhat out of practice. The rules of using this safehouse include avoiding all contact with any of the neighboring towns, which are hours away anyway, so Jared can’t just hit up a supermarket or butcher.
He finally brings down a doe and hauls it back to the cabin with the help of the truck parked out back and gets the carcass strung up just as the sun’s going down.
Jared doesn’t bother unchaining Jensen when he brings him out back, just leads him straight to the dead animal and says, “Dinner.” Jensen only hesitates for a second, his pupils going huge, presumably at the smell, before he closes his mouth over the white spot at the base of the doe’s soft throat.
Jared wants to leave him to it but his training won’t let him: leaving a vampire, probably greatly strengthened by a feeding, just as the last traces of daylight are leaving the treetops would be phenomenally stupid. So Jared stands behind the kneeling vampire with a gun in one hand and a stake in the other, watching as the tension bleeds out of Jensen’s shoulders and some color returns slowly to his cheeks.
Although Jensen looks marginally healthier after he’s wiped the last trickle of blood from his chin, he also still looks exhausted. Jared notes with disappointment that the bruises and cuts haven’t even faded. He lets Jensen sink back onto the couch while he cleans and butchers the deer, thanking whatever hunter installed a huge freezer in the cellar. The remaining blood from the carcass also gets stored in the freezer; Jared figures Jensen’s going to need another feeding within the next few days. The whole process takes him a few hours, but when he’s done he rewards himself with a huge slab venison and a beer.
Jensen seems particularly alarmed at the sight of the beer in Jared’s hand and Jared’s mind immediately jumps to all the ways Jack-the-asshole could’ve instilled that fear in him. He’s pretty sure the marks he can see are the least of Jensen’s damage. Speaking of which...
“Hey, so that blood do anything for you?” Jared asks, leaving his beer in the kitchen and coming to sit on the couch beside Jensen. Jensen ducks his head, a mumbled answer getting lost on the way. Jared waits for more, but Jensen just sits still, bowed, waiting.
“Seriously, you healin’ now? ‘Cause you don’t look much better to me.” No point in sugar-coating it. Jensen shakes his head.
“It’s slow, but it’s happening. If you- I can still... My mouth...” Jensen trails off.
“What about it?” Jared’s gaze catches on said mouth and there’s something fascinating about the way white teeth catch on plump, wet lips.
“If you need to... use me. I’m not healed yet, but you can use my mouth.”
It takes Jared a full 30 seconds to understand what Jensen’s saying, what he’s offering Jared. It takes him another moment to understand what he means by “not healed yet.” He can’t even begin to find a way to respond, rendered speechless with revulsion. He’d figured out that Jack was raping Jensen, but the evidence still sends a shot of horror through him.
Jensen looks more terrified than ever and Jared curses his own utter lack of a poker face.
“No. I’m not going to be ‘using’ you for that.” Jared can hear his voice shake with anger; he tries to unclench his fists, even out his breathing.
Jensen doesn’t look relieved - if anything, he looks ready to bolt, but he takes a deep breath and meets Jared’s eye.
“If you’re going to kill me, please, just do it. Please.” The last word is a whisper, an edge of panic cutting into Jensen’s voice. Jared feels an unfamiliar heaviness in his chest that he can’t shove down.
“If I were gonna kill you, you’d be dead. I don’t drag it out, and I don’t play with my prey,” Jared growls.
“Then why did you take me?” Jensen spits, an accusation Jared doesn’t understand underlying his words.
“I don’t know. Maybe I should have left you there to starve until that piece of shit finally put you out of your misery!” Jared doesn’t know why he’s yelling, only that there’s anger blazing through his veins: anger at Jack for being such a twisted, fucked up excuse for a human being, anger at Jensen for expecting Jared to be just the same, and anger at himself for somehow saddling himself with a broken vampire.
Jensen shrinks back from Jared’s outburst, eyes immediately dropping to the floor, shoulders hunching in. He looks small, helpless even, and there’s guilt burning like acid in the pit of Jared’s stomach.
Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake, this guy isn’t even human. It’s like kicking a dog.
“I’m sorry. Look, just forget it, okay? It’s about time for bed anyway.”
Jensen doesn’t stop shaking, even after he’s safe behind the bars of his cell.
***
They don’t speak of it again for several days, though Jared can tell Jensen’s still waiting to find out what Jared wants from him. Instead, they fall into an uneasy truce, one in which Jensen obeys Jared’s every word and Jared has to keep reminding himself to lock Jensen up when he leaves for a run or to go fishing.
Jensen does not like fish blood, Jared learns. It seems that bigger mammals are best, but he’ll drink a squirrel if he has to. He didn’t exactly turn his nose up at the fish, just blushed deep pink and mumbled an apology.
Jared finds himself watching Jensen for signs of improvement and he finds them, though not nearly as many as he’d like. Jensen can walk across a room without stopping to lean against a chair and the oldest bruises are yellowing and even the deepest cuts seem to be healing.
Jared knows this because Jensen asked for permission to use Jared’s shower and proceeded to undress before Jared had a chance to back out of the bathroom. He left the door open, too, telling himself it was a precaution and not because the mere sound of water hitting Jensen’s skin was enough to have Jared itching to follow the vampire in.
Jared’s fairly nocturnal - a common side effect of the hunting lifestyle - so he and Jensen often find themselves sitting in the living room together, Jared with his weapons and Jensen either watching him or staring into the fire. He’s recently started taking some of the paperbacks lying around into his cell with him when he goes to bed, but when Jared’s around, he seems to prefer watching the hunter.
Jared’s making silver bullets now, seated on the floor in front of the fireplace, melting various bits of metal into shape. Jensen’s more relaxed Jared’s ever seen him, curled up in his usual spot on the couch with a blanket around him. Jared keeps glancing up to find Jensen watching him curiously. After a few moments of awkward eye contact, Jared finally breaks the silence.
“What? What is it?”
Jensen shrugs, but when Jared doesn’t look away he speaks up.
“This isn’t your real home, is it?” Jensen sounds hesitant, like he doesn’t think he’s supposed to be asking.
Jared’s surprised by the question and by the fact that Jensen noticed, let alone cared enough to ask about his home.
“No, this is just a hunter’s safehouse. We come here when we need to go to ground, or we need some time off. Or when we’re injured, or after a really bad hunt. It’s a good place, but it’s not mine. I don’t get the chance to go back to my place too often.”
Jensen’s quiet for a moment and when he speaks his voice is low, with that gentle rasping quality that Jared’s starting to think isn’t a result of the abuse but just the way Jensen talks.
“Jack... He explained it to me. What it’s like, being a hunter. Seeing all those terrible things, doing - Well, you know. He told me how it messes up your head, makes you need - ” Jensen’s voice breaks and he clears his throat, shooting Jared a rueful look. “Makes you need to blow off some steam sometimes. That’s what he kept me for. Better with a vampire than with a real person.”
Jared’s blood is pounding in his ears by the time Jensen falls quiet. The vile words sound even worse in Jensen’s soft, matter of fact tone. He really believes it, Jared thinks. That needs to change.
“He told you - I know, okay, I know there are hunters out there who only do this because our life has no rules. They think we can do whatever we want, because we’re saving people, that it evens out in the end.” Jensen is nodding along, wide eyes fixed on Jared. “They’re full of shit. Jack was a sick fuck who just chose you because nobody was ever going to notice or care what he did to you.”
“I know,” Jensen murmurs softly. “This is what I’m good for. This is what I can do. I can do it for you, too.”
Jared recoils from the words, but struggles to keep his anger in check this time.
“I thought we talked about this. I’m not interested.”
For a moment, Jensen looks as though he’s going to argue. Instead he ducks his head and Jared watches that pink flush creep up his cheeks, finds himself wondering if his skin would be warm to the touch or cold like death. He’s never bothered touching a vampire except to kill it before. When Jensen speaks again, Jared’s deep in musings about what Jensen’s skin might feel like under his palms.
“If you’re not going to - if you’re not interested, what do you want me to do? You haven’t killed me, I’m not a freeloader, and it doesn’t look like you’re letting me go anytime soon.” He says it so matter-of-factly, like he never even expected to be set free. It makes Jared wonder.
“How long did Jack keep you?”
Jensen shifts, taken aback by the question.
“I... I’m not sure. I think it must’ve been something like a year. Maybe more... He caught me after he killed the nest that made me, you know.”
“You weren’t living with them, though, right?” Jared asks, remembering Jack’s words.
“No, I was on my own. I ran away the day after they changed me. A couple of months later Jack caught me and took me back to his place.”
Jared blinks in surprise. He always imagines vampires being old, and judging by their fashion choices, some of the ones he’s killed have definitely been around for a while. Jensen only looks to be in his twenties and Jared is realizing he might actually look his age. Doesn’t mean he’s not a bloodsucking monster, Jared reminds himself.
“Never thought about running away?” Jared asks.
“I tried, once. It was a month after he caught me. I made it all the way out of town before he caught up with me.” Jensen swallows hard. “He made me beg to be allowed to come back.”
Jared’s stomach turns over.
“He didn’t take the chains off me again after that, and he started keeping Dead Man’s Blood in the house. He didn’t like to use it, liked it better when I had the strength to struggle.” Jensen shrugs, like his words aren’t creeping under Jared’s skin, making him wish he’d actually killed Jack. “Sometimes I’d try not to fight back, but he’d just push harder. Said it wasn’t fun unless I was screaming. I wasn’t going to last much longer, you know? If you hadn’t come, I mean. He was getting bored, it was getting harder for me to put up a fight.”
Jensen pauses, looks up into Jared’s horrified eyes.
“I’m trying to say thank you. This is better than where I was. Even if you - change your mind, if you want to use me, even if you kill me - this is better.”
Jared can only nod.
***
Jared lies in bed, staring at the ceiling and seeing only Jensen’s honest green stare. He’s not how Jared expected, not really. He’s soft-spoken and quiet, but Jared had attributed that to the fact that he was beaten half to death only a week ago. Now, Jared’s starting to think this is just how Jensen is: gentle, serious, maybe a little shy. He wonders what Jensen was like as a human - probably sweet, maybe a little too quiet to be Jared’s type, but definitely hot enough to be on his radar.
He’s not human. It’s becoming a mantra for Jared, a reminder he needs more and more.
Jared knows what it feels like to have his bones snapped like twigs by a vampire. He knows that they can hear, see, and smell far better than he can, and they use that fact to their advantage. He’s watched people die from blood loss, watched a person turn into a monster that had to be put down, watched as razor sharp fangs tore through soft skin like so much tissue paper.
Yeah, he’s not getting any sleep tonight.
Padding quietly down the hall to the kitchen, Jared pauses at the door to the cellar. There’s a sound - not loud, the cellar is meant to be soundproof - emerging from behind the door. There it is again - quiet moaning, mumbled words... Begging, Jared thinks. He eases the door open a crack and listens.
“No... No, please, stop, please. I’ll be good, I won’t - Please!”
Jensen’s having a nightmare, Jared realizes. He feels like he’s intruding on something private but he doesn’t want to leave Jensen alone with his fear.
Jared settles for shutting the door louder than necessary and is rewarded by a sharp gasp from the cellar, then silence.
***
Jared’s starting to get antsy from being out of the game for so long. It’s been over a week, which is more than his usual “vacation”, and he needs a good hunt. He’s hogging the safehouse, too, although he knows few other hunters actually use this place.
He brings it up after dinner one night, Jared drinking his beer on the couch and Jensen squeezing the last drops of blood from a bag. It’s from a buck Jared brought down a few days ago and Jensen says it’s the best he’s had.
“Was thinkin’ of going on a hunt,” Jared starts. “The monster kind, not deer.”
Jensen lowers the empty bag.
“Am I - Do I go with you?”
Jared nods.
“Can’t leave you here, it’s a hunter’s place and I’m not the only one who comes here. Think you can handle the road now?”
Jensen nods eagerly.
“Yeah, I’m good, just a few cuts and my ribs still messed up, but I’m fine. Where’re we going?”
Jared almost laughs. This is the most animated he’s ever seen Jensen and the change is palpable. His eyes are sparkling, cheeks flushed, there’s even an upward tilt to the corner of his mouth like he might smile.
“There’s a thing over in Washington. State, not DC. It’ll take us a couple days to drive over; I was thinking we’d leave tomorrow. Gotta lay down some ground rules first, though.”
Jensen nods attentively and sits up straighter.
“You do everything I say. You follow my orders without question. You don’t talk to anyone else. This one’s obvious, but I’ll say it anyway: you don’t drink anyone.”
Jensen’s still nodding.
“You don’t touch my weapons and you don’t leave my sight unless I tell you to. Got it?”
“Got it.”
Neither of them mention that most of these rules are clearly designed to keep Jensen safe.
They leave the next evening, just as the sun is dipping low over the trees. Jensen can be in the sun, but it burns his skin after only a few minutes of exposure. Jared doesn’t mind driving at night; he figures they can get a motel in the morning and sleep through the day.
***
Jared starts missing the cabin after only a few hours. It’s weird, because he’d been so eager to leave, but now that they’re out in the real world he can’t seem to keep reality at bay. He’s going on a hunt with a vampire he kidnapped, with no guarantee said vampire won’t rip his throat out in his sleep or escape for a snack and end up on a killing spree.
He didn’t put the chains on Jensen in the car but he’s starting to regret it. Jensen’s staring out the passenger window at the dim twilight filtering through the trees and every time he shifts Jared tenses, ready to grab the gun beside him. After a while, he thinks Jensen must’ve noticed because he’s sitting very still, making only slow, gentle movements.
Fuck, Jared thinks, Now I’ve scared him. Except, of course, he shouldn’t care that Jensen’s scared. He shouldn’t be thinking about what Jensen’s feeling at all. He shouldn’t even have Jensen with him - this hunt doesn’t seem particularly dangerous, but he knows how easy it can be to lose focus and -
Jensen shifts again and Jared looks over at him. He’s curled against the passenger door wearing one of Jared’s hoodies and a pair of Jared’s jeans. He has the hood pulled up and he’s gazing out the window with such a peaceful expression on his face that Jared wants to keep him there, just like this, as long as he can.
Jared wrenches his gaze back to the road and sternly tells himself to focus on the case, go over the details, and stop thinking about Jensen.
It’s going to be a long drive.
***
The floor is grimy in Jack’s lair. Jensen wishes he could clean it, or have a bed. Or a pillow. A blanket. A warm, soft blanket to wrap himself in, something to separate him from the hard cement pressing into his bruised flesh. He shifts and pain slices through his side, bright hot agony from his ribs to his collarbone. He wonders for a moment if anything’s broken, then tries to sink back into his fantasy.
“Leech. Get over here.”
Jensen’s body responds almost without input from his mind, which is still trying to escape into fuzzy numbness. He pulls himself up and starts to stand, but a sharp tug on the chain clipped to his collar brings him back to his knees.
“Crawl. On your knees like the bitch you are.”
By the time Jensen makes it over to where Jack is sprawled in his one throne like leather armchair, Jensen’s knees and palms are stinging with scrapes. He stops in front of Jack and is rewarded with another hard tug of his collar.
“Suck me.”
Jensen’s stomach churns but he pulls himself up and unbuttons Jack’s pants. The man is physically repulsive to him, from his smell to his voice to the feel of his skin. He’s not hard yet - Of course he isn’t, you’re not crying yet - so Jensen starts to work him with one hand.
“Put it in your mouth,” Jack tells him, grabbing onto Jensen’s hair. He’s pulling and shoving Jensen’s face into his crotch, rubbing Jensen’s lips against himself. Jensen opens for him and whimpers when Jack grinds his face down even harder. The instant the sound leaves him, Jack’s dick starts to swell, growing to fill Jensen’s mouth.
“That’s it. You’re just a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”
There’s something sharp running over the side of Jensen’s neck, stinging pain bursting over the skin of his collarbone, his shoulder, down his back. It’s a knife, something that would never have hurt Jensen when he was at his full strength. Now, though, the pain is enough to bring tears to his eyes and he lets out another whimper.
“If you’re good and you make me come with that pretty mouth, I won’t even fuck your ass tonight,” comes Jack’s voice from just above Jensen’s head. Jensen feels a quick flash of hope and tries to make it good, moving his tongue and sucking hard. Jacks’ hips are thrusting up into his mouth while his left hand clenches in Jensen’s hair, his right hand busy running the knife over Jensen’s skin.
Just as Jack’s breathing starts to stutter and his movements are becoming erratic, the knife digs into the dip between Jensen’s ribs, hard. Jensen lets loose a cry and inadvertently scrapes his teeth along the length of Jack’s cock, earning himself a hard, ringing blow to the head and another gash on his ribs. Jack hits him again, sending him sprawling across the filthy floor.
When Jensen looks up again, Jack is looming over him wearing a vile grin. He tugs on Jensen’s chain.
“Turn around, Leech. Show me that pretty ass, only thing you’re good for. Didn’t think I was really going to give you the night off, did you?”
Jensen starts to beg.
***
Part III