paint over everything mundane | j2 | NC17
PAINT OVER EVERYTHING MUNDANE
Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki. NC17. 11,000+ words.
warnings. Bloodplay-a little heavier than last time, but nothing too extreme. Sex. Language. Vampires.
summary. Secretive phone calls, corrupt cops, and vampires coming out of the woodwork to make threats sound more like the plot to a thriller movie than the story of a relationship, but Jared’s been dealing with all of that, and more, since he and Jensen got together. He should have known that normal was too much to ask for. Sequel to It Begins in the Blood.
notes. Thanks to matalinolukaret for the beta! All remaining mistakes are my own. Other formats and downloads for this story available on AO3.
Jared is skimming over a “Furniture for Sale” flier on the campus bulletin board when the hairs on the back of his neck go rigid, tiny shivers from a sudden chill running down his arms.
It’s a cold, unfriendly sensation-an icy fingernail tracing his spine-and Jared immediately knows it’s not Jensen behind him. Jensen’s presence is like stepping out into the first cool morning after a long, hot summer; it’s bliss. Whoever’s stalking Jared now has a much more sinister presence, which narrows it down to every other vampire in Richardson besides Jensen.
Before his veins freeze up completely, Jared turns to face a chillingly amused stare.
“Out all alone?” The vampire plucks at his lip with one elongated fang. “And it’s nearly dark, too. Such a newfound sense of bravery, Padalecki.”
“Aldis,” Jared greets the ebony-skinned vampire flatly, keeping his back to the solid bulletin board. No telling who else is out there. “Shouldn’t you be off somewhere, drinking the blood of a newborn?”
“Nah, too sweet for me.” Aldis’s teeth are white as snow but his eyes are threaded through with red. “I prefer something a little more aged, with some fire to it.”
Jared almost rolls his eyes-these vampires can be so damn lame-but he doesn’t dare lose focus on Aldis. And it’s getting darker by the minute.
“Well, there’s nothing here for you, so-”
Aldis looks down at Jared’s wrist. “I don’t see your mark.”
Jared swallows, adjusting his stance. Just in case. “Are you confused about the state of my Protection?”
“No,” Aldis tells him. He doesn’t need to circle Jared to make him feel like prey. That sharp smile’s enough. “I’m just enjoying the chance to see our lion turned into a lamb, cowering under his new Patron.”
“I’m not-” Jared has to bite his tongue.
“Or maybe you prefer it that way,” Aldis mocks.
Jared opens his mouth and feels a cool sensation on his tongue just as a familiar shape separates itself from the shadows to stand beside him.
“That’s pathetic, even for you, Aldis,” Jensen says as vampire squares off against vampire. “Sorry to interrupt your little chat, but I thought I heard my name.”
Instead of stepping in front of Jared, Jensen stops at his side. Jared has always fought his own battles in life and against Richardson’s nocturnal half-up until Lyssa’s deal left him no choice-so he appreciates Jensen reining in his instincts.
“Just admiring your new pet, Ackles. I have to say, he doesn’t behave very well.”
“He’s not the one who needs to learn some obedience.”
So maybe Jensen only reins them in a little bit.
“And we were just leaving,” Jared says. Next to him, Jensen is marble. Pale skin, rigid limbs, a stare like Medusa that could petrify a human. He and Aldis are trading silent threats, and Jared wonders if there are vampire abilities humans can’t begin to understand.
“Be my guest,” Aldis says, breaking the face-off. “I think I’ll stick around here for a bit. Been a while since I came down to campus, and I’m sure there’s a lot to see. New people to meet, and all.”
“Hang on-”
“Fine,” Jensen cuts Jared off. “I’ll just let Christian know where you are. I’m sure he’ll want to join you.”
Aldis actually hisses like a python being taunted. “Go right ahead,” he spits before turning and walking away. When Jared looks over, Jensen might as well be licking his lips to match his satisfied sneer. That expression softens into a smile when he sees Jared checking him out.
“Glad to see you’re making friends,” the vampire says.
“What was that all about?” There’s no sign of Aldis in the quad when Jared looks around. “I’ve never done anything to piss off Aldis, have I?”
Jensen shrugs and grabs Jared’s bag, slipping it over his shoulder. The patched messenger clashes with his pinpoint oxford and slate slacks, but Jared enjoys the way boyfriend looks on Jensen.
“Don’t worry about Aldis. I think he’s off his meds.”
“Huh?”
Jensen laughs. “Stay-at-home mom who pounds fistfuls of Prozac. It’s hard to quit a feed like that cold turkey.”
The joke falls a little flat, and Jared says nothing as they cross campus, night closing in thick around them. At least he’s not alone.
“Sorry, Jay,” Jensen says when they get to the Impala. “I wasn’t thinking back there. I should have let you handle it.”
“With Aldis? Hey, I’m not complaining. Protection or not, I’m glad you showed up.” Inside the car, Jared feels the knots in his gut beginning to unravel, the familiar tang of leather closing around him like a protective aura. “Ever since Lyssa and Alex, I’ve been afraid that I’m attracting the wrong kind of attention.”
“Then I’ll have to make sure you’re getting plenty of the right kind of attention,” Jensen teases. “Just to make up for that.”
Jared’s learned a lot about Jensen over the last five weeks, picking out so many things he’d never bothered to know about the vampire before, back when he’d tried to write off Jensen’s regard as unwanted. At the top of that list: Jensen has a sense of humor. Warped, sometimes, and out of date, but it’s there. It clashes with the burned-in memories Jared has of Jensen’s stoic courtship years ago, and Jared had always guarded the notion that vampires lost their humor along with their heartbeat. He’s happy to be wrong, even as he puts up with uncomfortable innuendos and self-deprecating jabs about the undead.
“Don’t worry about Aldis,” Jensen repeats, the brightness in his eyes growing inverse to the thickening twilight. “He’s harmless.”
“Didn’t sound harmless.” Jared steers away from campus, knowing where to go without asking Jensen. Aldis had never bothered him before, but then a lot has changed since Jared’s deal.
“The man’s ego has been inflated ever since he got promoted to ‘head vampire geek’.” Jensen uses air-quotes and Jared laughs despite his anxiety.
“What kind of job is that?”
“Aldis knows his way around computer networks,” Jensen explains, “and now he trolls through them all night, making sure nothing confidential about Richardson is popping up out there.”
“He monitors everything?” Jared asks, discomfort growing like a physical ache.
“Not everything, but technology brings with it a whole new set of problems for vampires. Like, outsiders coming to the university, writing emails home about weird things, or strangers seen roaming at night. Texts, blog posts, anything like that-it all filters through his nets and the incriminating stuff disappears.”
After taking a moment to process this, Jared mutters, “That’s fucked up.”
“I know,” Jensen calmly admits. “But that’s life here.”
“Students come to Richardson never knowing what kind of place they’re jumping into. It’s different for me, I grew up here, but these people don’t know the difference!” Jared’s voice picks up steam, frustration in control of his emotions. “It’s dangerous and it isn’t fair!”
Wise for all his years, Jensen lets Jared have his tirade, remaining silent until they pull into the lot behind Misha’s bar and Jared kills the ignition. Still wound up from facing Aldis, Jared is practically gunning for a fight, but he forces himself to calm down with a few deep, measured breaths.
“Sorry, I’m just…” Jared sighs. “My life is weird.”
“I’m not going to argue with that,” Jensen tells him. “It is pretty weird.”
“Aren’t you worried about Aldis though? That he might hurt someone on campus?”
“He knows better than to feed in the open, or attack someone. There are laws.”
Jared snorts-he can’t help it-and Jensen’s focus becomes sharper than it’s been since he appeared. “There are, Jared, and there are consequences for those who break them. Aldis wouldn’t dare, and besides, Christian’s vigilant. He’d never let Aldis do any damage.”
Jared’s never met Christian face to face, but he knows the other vampire is one of Jensen’s closest friends. Jensen paints Christian as strong, dependable, and trustworthy, but Jared’s heard stories of Christian the Enforcer, the vampire tasked with eliminating problems. At least that’s what Chad tells Jared; he really has no idea what to make of Christian’s see-sawing reputation.
There’s an open table at the back of the bar, and Jensen darts ahead to steal it away from an approaching all-human couple. Jared nods politely as the couple turns and gives the table a wide berth.
“We could’ve sat at the bar.”
“This is better,” Jensen says, and Jared decides not to comment on the fact that Jensen can see the entire room from his seat. “What are you having?”
“Worried about how I’ll taste later?”
Jensen’s lip curls in a way that is entirely too attractive. “No one likes to kiss a boyfriend with onion breath.”
Away from campus and in the familiar bustle of Misha’s Tavern, Jared relaxes. He’s been coming here for years, and ever since the Tavern became “neutral” a few years ago, Jared doesn’t have to worry about being here with Jensen.
Though, it’s not much of a date place.
Jared orders fried chicken and a biscuit-“that’ll clog your arteries,” Jensen mutters-and hands his menu to the pale, perky, gothed-out human waiting on them. Jensen keeps it simple with two fingers of the Tavern’s best scotch.
“Not hungry?”
“I ate before I came to find you.”
“Rabbit?” Jared asks, grinning across the table. “Or maybe a squirrel?”
Jensen’s mouth is flat when he asks, “Would you eat a squirrel?”
Well aware of the fact that vampires need human blood to survive, Jared’s comfortable with the joke, but the subject of Jensen’s diet is tough to wrap his instincts around. And lately he’s gotten more and more curious.
“You could have waited,” he says, spinning his glass on the table, fingers drumming. “Eaten here, or whatever.”
Jensen’s stare calculates, picks apart Jared’s comment. It’s not that Jared is eager to watch his vampire boyfriend throw back a pint or two of blood, but Jensen puts up with Jared stuffing his face all the time-only fair he tolerate it the other way around.
“You want me to drink in front of you?”
Nodding, Jared says, “You don’t need to hide it from me. I mean, you watch me eat all the time, and it’s not gross. Right?”
“It is when you eat barbecue,” Jensen deadpans, and Jared scoffs, knowing he walked straight into that one.
The fried chicken arrives in a cloud of battered aroma; Jensen feigns gagging. With a triumphant grin, Jared’s about to crunch into the first flaky piece when he notices their server hovering awkwardly beside the table. Her dark eyes, drawn into pitch-lined almonds, are staring Jensen down. Her mouth is round and open, wrapped around a soundless moan of wonder.
Jared’s usually robust appetite deflates. Jensen ignores the woman-girl, really, since she’s younger than Jared-with a chilled indifference.
“Um”-Jared checks out her nametag-“Morgan, is there something you need from us?”
As if Jared’s a specter, Morgan talks right through him. “You’re Jensen Ackles, right?” she asks, voice as high as the ceiling. “Of the Ackles?”
Jared lowers his crispy drumstick. “I don’t really think this is appropriate.”
“You are!” Morgan bulldozes ahead. “Oh my god, this is amazing. I mean, I knew I’d meet a few of you working here, but Jensen Ackles…I’m a huge fan!”
Jared hasn’t taken a bite and he wants to vomit. A few months ago a display like Morgan’s would have made him sick for different reasons: vampires were detestable, ruthless, and dangerous-anyone claiming to be a fan he chalked up to being a pathetic fang-banger. Tonight, Jared wants to bite back, tell her that Jensen is spoken for. But old prejudices jam up in his throat, silencing him.
“I know all about your family, I mean, what people tell me, and if you ever needed, you know”-she arches her neck in a pathetically unsubtle gesture-“I am totally willing.”
“Morgan.” Jensen’s voice could turn Jared’s sweet tea to ice. Morgan’s drivel stops immediately, her eyes outstretching her thick eyeliner. “You are making a scene.”
As if her blood freezes in her veins, Morgan goes rigid while Jared watches.
“Jensen,” he whispers uncomfortably, but before he can say anything else, a slender man wearing a black apron steps up to their table.
“Morgan, you’ve got another order up in the kitchen.” Misha has to physically turn his server towards the swinging door in the back, giving her an extra nudge to break the trance. When she’s gone, the tavern’s owner sighs. “Sorry about that, guys. New hire.”
“Where do you find these kids, Misha?” Jensen asks, easily side-stepping the tension from a moment ago. “The ‘Fang Me’ ads on Craigslist?”
“Hey, she seemed fine when I interviewed her.”
“She looked normal to you.” Jensen’s snark is evident in the tilt of his eyebrows.
“Not everyone in the eyeliner crowd is eager to be fanged, you know,” Misha counters, batting his own kohl-lined lashes. “But I’ll talk to her, don’t worry. You guys doing alright?”
“It’s been an interesting night,” Jared says, his appetite returning. After taking a bite of his drumstick, Jared stops to lick his fingers and catches the moment Jensen’s eyes flare with interest.
“Well, just tell me if you need anything. I’ll keep Morgan busy while you’re here, take care of you myself.”
“Appreciate it, Misha.” Jared nods as the man walks away. He’s eager to forget the hassles they’ve run into today and get back to teasing his boyfriend with batter-slick fingers and warm smiles, knowing their respite may be a short one.
Sure enough, as Jared goes for his third piece of chicken, Jensen’s cell rings.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jared mutters.
Jensen takes one look at the number and narrows his eyes. Says, “I have to take this,” and downs the rest of his scotch in a single swallow before disappearing through the dinner crowd.
Obviously, Jared’s relationship with Jensen isn’t ideal. He’s lost count of the number of phone calls, urgent emails, and late night visits from shadowy figures that have wedged into their time together. Before, when Jared was in high school and Jensen’s gaze was just the weight he carried with him, he never understood it. Now he does: Jensen is important. History is one thing, but Jensen’s so connected-the undead heart of Richardson-and his sudden return to town five weeks ago seems to have changed something. And not a good something, if Jensen’s post-call scowls are anything to go by.
Misha startles Jared when he sets another glass of scotch on the table. “Did Jensen leave?”
“He stepped out. Important call, I guess.” He gets a lot of those.
While Misha’s eyes are trying to pick out Jensen through the tavern’s front windows, Jared considers his strange friend. Misha is well known on both sides in Richardson: one of the first to push for neutral establishments in order to build bridges and alleviate fears. Jared’s cynical about how well that can really work, but Misha could be an untapped source of information.
“Hey, Misha…” Jared’s not sure how to begin. “Is there anything, you know, that I should be worried about?” His gaze floats to the door where he can see Jensen’s shoulders aglow in the lamplight. “Is there something going on?”
Misha’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Always something going on in Richardson,” he says, lilting like Jared’s supposed to get the joke. When Jared doesn’t let up on his frown, Misha sighs. “Nothing to do with you, I’m sure. Are you really worried?”
“Just lost, I guess.”
“Want to borrow my copy of Dating the Dead? I have it in hardcover.”
“Would it give me tips on keeping up with my vampire’s crowded social calendar?”
“Sure, along with some great recipes to please you and your fanged partner,” Misha teases, and they both laugh.
Outside, Jensen’s pacing in a circle, meeting Jared’s stare once or twice. His lips quirk in a quarter-grin when he does. Jared’s stomach settles a bit, and the rest of his dinner begins to look appealing again.
“Misha, have you ever…” Jared gestures with two hooked fingers.
“Fought a bear? Danced with a tarantula?”
“Been with a vampire.”
Misha’s demeanor flatlines, and Jared backtracks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I know it’s personal. I just…I have no idea what’s going on most of the time.”
Misha sighs, expression less stony. “You’re sort of in uncharted territory right now,” he says. “No one really dates vampires. It’s all fang n’ bang around here,” he finishes crudely.
“No one?” Jared asks, thinking of Morgan and her behavior, the same he’s seen in other vampire-obsessed humans.
“Nothing as”-Misha pauses to choose the right word-“mutual as your thing with Jensen. The idea of romancing a vampire appeals to certain people, obviously, but that never really goes both ways.”
Before Misha can say more, Jensen returns to the table, slipping his cell phone into his pocket. Misha nods to Jensen and walks away towards the kitchen where another server is struggling to balance three plates.
“Everything okay?”
“Politics,” Jensen says, no tone to give Jared a clue. “It would be so much easier if no one knew I’d come back, but-”
“But you didn’t exactly return quietly,” Jared finishes for him. Picking a fight over Jared with another powerful vampire and her septic tank of a brother was hardly inconspicuous. Not that Jared isn’t grateful.
Jensen smirks and picks up his drink. “Guess not,” he says, then throws back the scotch. “You still eating?”
The last pieces of chicken are cold, the sauce sticky. “We can go if you want.”
“Grab a box, you’ll be hungry later.”
“Oh yeah?” Jared asks warmly, liking the hint. “Gonna wear me out?” He wishes vampires could blush; flushed cheeks would make Jensen even more irresistible.
It’s almost as good as a blush when Jensen pulls two twenties from his wallet and slides them underneath the salt and pepper caddy, strained voice telling Jared, “Right. Now we’re really leaving.” Jared would argue the gesture except he doesn’t get paid for his on-campus job until Friday and he’s pretty sure Jensen’s drinks cost more than his dinner.
One Styrofoam box and a hurried goodbye to Misha later, Jared and Jensen step back out into the night. Jensen’s grip on Jared’s hand is as cool as the air around them, but Jared’s fingers feel a phantom-warmth-the promise of more to come tonight.
This is the easy part, Jared thinks: the undeniable-and unrelenting-physical want between them. In the place where they don’t have to talk, where the feelings simply are.
The Impala rolls through the blue dark, heading for home. With Jensen’s eyes already sharp and his fingers stroking between Jared’s knuckles, Jared knows they can’t get there fast enough.
~~~
“We could stay at my place, you know.”
Jensen’s remark sounds casual-and he’s got the posture to go with it-but Jared’s heard this before.
“What’s wrong with my place?” he asks, pulling dry towels off the banister and folding them. Katie must not have called their landlord about the dryer yet.
“It’s so apartment-ey.” At least Jensen keeps that from sounding too awful.
“It’s actually a townhouse, you know.”
Jensen looks over. “There’s a difference?”
“Not really, I guess.” Jared shrugs. He doesn’t need to defend his place, but he can’t help it. “I like it, and I can afford it. Campus isn’t far and it’s got plenty of room-“
“That you have to share,” Jensen remarks. “What about living on your own?”
“Jensen…” After the evening he’s had, Jared isn’t in the mood to be logical about touchy subjects. Hell, he barely wants to be conversational. “I can’t leave Katie like that. She can’t afford this place without me. And ever since her parents disappeared, she’s been on her own. I’m not leaving her.”
“Jared-”
“I know. I know you didn’t have anything to do with the Cassidys going missing,” Jared says, pushing the familiar rage back down into his gut. “It’s just not fair.”
A moment ticks by, nothing said. Jared takes stock of his rented townhouse: the carpets need cleaning, mismatched hand-me-downs are mixed with minimalist IKEA furniture, and there are school books dropped wherever Jared got fed up with studying. The shortcomings are obvious.
“It’s not like I can just stay with you at Ackles Manor,” Jared says, hesitant and awkward.
Jensen’s hands are in his pockets, fidgeting. “It’s not actually called that.”
“Sorry. Look, can we just forget all of this right now? I’m really not in the mood to get into anything serious.” Jared sighs, dropping to sit on the staircase. “I just want-“
As if he knows what Jared’s thinking-as if he puts the thought there himself-Jensen kneels over Jared’s legs and presses him back against the stairs. The vampire’s kiss is the first amazing thing Jared’s felt all day, cool tongue like a balm on his nerves. He loves this-fucking loves the way Jensen kisses him, as if the three years he’d spent away from Richardson are something to make up for. Jared never thinks of them as penance; without those years he might never have reached this point. And with Jensen’s lips wide open against his, cool skin under Jared’s fingertips, he’s really fucking glad they’re here.
“Katie?” Jensen asks while his teeth are flirting with Jared’s carotid, pressure much too shy to break the skin.
“Good-ah, so good,” Jared mutters before he pieces together what the vampire’s asking. “Out. Working on a project at Taj’s, gonna be gone all night.”
“Perfect.” It sounds like a threat, sweet, dripping from Jensen’s barely-extended fangs. “I wouldn’t want her coming back and finding you at the mercy of a vampire, spread out like prey.”
Jared’s caught in a vice between the stair digging into his back and the equally unforgiving chest holding him down.
“Here?”
Jensen’s knees squeeze around Jared’s thigh, heavy line of his cock rutting against Jared’s hip. “Bedroom,” he growls, forcing himself away with visible effort. “And hurry.”
They tumble into Jared’s room at the top of the stairs; Jensen’s heightened senses lead them around piles of clothes and books, a shoe here or there waiting to trip them up. Back of his knees hitting the mattress, Jared starts pawing at Jensen’s clothing, impatience overcoming consideration for the havoc his fingers are wreaking on the fabric.
“Why do you always ruin my nice shirts?”
“Why do you wear nice shirts?” Jared counters, shoving the shirt over Jensen’s shoulder and covering the exposed skin with his open palms. The chill passes into him, involuntary shiver taking it all the way to his toes. But Jensen’s eyes are filled with fire, not ice, and his is mouth open to catch the scent of arousal in the air. “You know what? I think you kinda like it,” he tells Jensen as the tattered shirt is kicked aside.
“Yeah? What do I like?”
Jared never really intends to put the feeling into words-and maybe Jensen’s sultry response is rhetorical-but the burst of arousal he gets just thinking about it, forces his lips to move.
“You want me to cross that line,” Jared says, placing one hand on either side of Jensen’s neck. “You like knowing I want you that much-that I can handle this.”
“You can handle me, huh?” Jensen is barely making sense because Jared’s too busy obsessing over the shape the vampire’s lips. “All of me, Jared? Do you want everything?”
Everything that terrifies you, Jared hears. His voice is useless to answer, so he kisses Jensen instead, tongue drawing a yes on the roof of Jensen’s mouth.
In the space of a blink, Jared is spun away from the edge of the bed and thrown against the wall. Only gut instinct has him flinging up his hands a split-second before his nose hits the drywall. He struggles to breathe; in the wake of Jensen’s unnatural speed, the air has to catch up with Jared’s lungs. Jensen rarely unleashes himself like this-Jared imagines he’s trying to appear as human as possible-but when he has Jared’s permission, Jensen dominates like a category four hurricane.
Jared’s clothes are ripped from his body: seams, fabric, and buttons giving way as if they’re made of tissue paper. He feels no pain except the throb of blood into his dick, exposed and heavy, caught in a dry rub between the wall and his skin. A moan that’s half scream falls out of Jared’s mouth when Jensen reaches around and starts stroking his cock with a cool, invigorating grip.
“This feels awfully serious,” Jensen mocks Jared’s earlier complaint. “Are you sure you want me to get into it?”
“Oh god, shut up. Yes!”
Jensen’s mouth ravages the back of Jared’s neck, teeth bared against the meat of his shoulder; Jared wishes he could bite into those lips but all he tastes is drywall when he opens his mouth. The pressure at his back is unrelenting, Jensen’s palm squeezing and twisting.
“This is what you wanted.” Jensen’s voice is a soft blast of icy air across Jared’s cheek.
Jared groans, hips picking up speed. “You don’t need to hold back,” he mutters, knowing Jensen can go harder. “I’m not gonna break.”
The throaty laugh behind him serves as a warning. “You might.”
All of that wonderful pressure evaporates, and Jared wants to collapse in desperation. It only lasts for a few seconds before Jensen wraps around him, naked skin sliding along Jared’s sweat-streaked back. Jared feels the vampire’s cock, full and long, fitting into the groove of his ass, wet tip marking his skin. Jared had never allowed any of his exes to pin him this way-no one had earned the right to overpower him-but with Jensen, Jared has to fight the urge to drop his head and spread himself obscenely.
“Do you want-” Jared can’t say it, but Jensen reads the tension in his spine, loosening his grip to where it’s possessive, not restrictive. He curls into Jared’s body, thrusting and stroking at the same time.
“This is what I want,” he whispers. “All I’ve ever wanted. Just you.”
Jared could lose it right then-soak Jensen’s cold fingers with his come-but he clings to the last shreds of his self-control, edging away from his orgasm. He thrusts his hips backwards, hitting the cradle of Jensen’s thighs and nearly crying out as Jensen’s cock grinds forward and drags over his hole. No matter Jensen’s intentions, Jared can’t help tensing, waiting for the intrusion he knows he’s not ready for. He goes rigid for a moment, but once again, Jensen translates his body’s language, jacking Jared’s cock in an encouraging rhythm and pushing his own through the sweaty crease between Jared’s thighs.
Each time Jensen squeezes his fingers around the crown, or drags his thumbnail along the swollen vein that runs down to the base, Jared’s dick pulses and his entire body reacts to the sensation. His thighs contract, pulling Jensen deeper into the long lines of his body. Rhythm devolves into frenzy, both of them grasping and rutting until Jared can’t hold back any longer. His come spatters the wall in bursts and drips between Jensen’s fingers, cooling quickly. Jared hisses and grits his teeth, cock tingling as Jensen uses Jared’s come to stroke him down.
Elongated fangs nip at his shoulder, reminding Jared that Jensen’s still in pleasured agony behind him. Though Jared’s knees are quaking, he braces himself against the wall and lets Jensen’s pounding overwhelm him. The back of his thighs are going to be red and bruised from the force of Jensen’s thrusts, balls hitting skin, but he’ll welcome the ache later on. Only when Jensen’s come mixes with his, making a filthy mess of Jared’s thighs, does he slump forward, letting Jensen and the wall bear his weight.
“Are you gonna stay?” Jared asks later that night, after their mess is taken care of and Jared’s textbooks are open in a semi-circle on the bed in front of him. Jensen’s lounging against the headboard, playing Solitaire on his phone in between sending dirty texts to Jared about the feel of his come on his fingers. “At least until sun-up, I mean.”
“I was planning on it,” the vampire says, easing deeper into the pile of pillows as if he’s the prince of Jared’s bedroom. “It’ll be like my afternoon nap. And seriously”-he rolls a little closer to Jared-“it’s not like I can just go back and stay at Ackles Manor.”
Jared drops his notebook and laughs. “I thought you didn’t call it that.”
Jensen shrugs. “It fits.”
“It can’t beat this little apartment, huh?”
“Oh no,” Jensen says, reaching out to pull Jared down to meet his cool, perfect lips, “this is a townhouse.”
On to part two.
Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki. NC17. 11,000+ words.
warnings. Bloodplay-a little heavier than last time, but nothing too extreme. Sex. Language. Vampires.
summary. Secretive phone calls, corrupt cops, and vampires coming out of the woodwork to make threats sound more like the plot to a thriller movie than the story of a relationship, but Jared’s been dealing with all of that, and more, since he and Jensen got together. He should have known that normal was too much to ask for. Sequel to It Begins in the Blood.
notes. Thanks to matalinolukaret for the beta! All remaining mistakes are my own. Other formats and downloads for this story available on AO3.
Jared is skimming over a “Furniture for Sale” flier on the campus bulletin board when the hairs on the back of his neck go rigid, tiny shivers from a sudden chill running down his arms.
It’s a cold, unfriendly sensation-an icy fingernail tracing his spine-and Jared immediately knows it’s not Jensen behind him. Jensen’s presence is like stepping out into the first cool morning after a long, hot summer; it’s bliss. Whoever’s stalking Jared now has a much more sinister presence, which narrows it down to every other vampire in Richardson besides Jensen.
Before his veins freeze up completely, Jared turns to face a chillingly amused stare.
“Out all alone?” The vampire plucks at his lip with one elongated fang. “And it’s nearly dark, too. Such a newfound sense of bravery, Padalecki.”
“Aldis,” Jared greets the ebony-skinned vampire flatly, keeping his back to the solid bulletin board. No telling who else is out there. “Shouldn’t you be off somewhere, drinking the blood of a newborn?”
“Nah, too sweet for me.” Aldis’s teeth are white as snow but his eyes are threaded through with red. “I prefer something a little more aged, with some fire to it.”
Jared almost rolls his eyes-these vampires can be so damn lame-but he doesn’t dare lose focus on Aldis. And it’s getting darker by the minute.
“Well, there’s nothing here for you, so-”
Aldis looks down at Jared’s wrist. “I don’t see your mark.”
Jared swallows, adjusting his stance. Just in case. “Are you confused about the state of my Protection?”
“No,” Aldis tells him. He doesn’t need to circle Jared to make him feel like prey. That sharp smile’s enough. “I’m just enjoying the chance to see our lion turned into a lamb, cowering under his new Patron.”
“I’m not-” Jared has to bite his tongue.
“Or maybe you prefer it that way,” Aldis mocks.
Jared opens his mouth and feels a cool sensation on his tongue just as a familiar shape separates itself from the shadows to stand beside him.
“That’s pathetic, even for you, Aldis,” Jensen says as vampire squares off against vampire. “Sorry to interrupt your little chat, but I thought I heard my name.”
Instead of stepping in front of Jared, Jensen stops at his side. Jared has always fought his own battles in life and against Richardson’s nocturnal half-up until Lyssa’s deal left him no choice-so he appreciates Jensen reining in his instincts.
“Just admiring your new pet, Ackles. I have to say, he doesn’t behave very well.”
“He’s not the one who needs to learn some obedience.”
So maybe Jensen only reins them in a little bit.
“And we were just leaving,” Jared says. Next to him, Jensen is marble. Pale skin, rigid limbs, a stare like Medusa that could petrify a human. He and Aldis are trading silent threats, and Jared wonders if there are vampire abilities humans can’t begin to understand.
“Be my guest,” Aldis says, breaking the face-off. “I think I’ll stick around here for a bit. Been a while since I came down to campus, and I’m sure there’s a lot to see. New people to meet, and all.”
“Hang on-”
“Fine,” Jensen cuts Jared off. “I’ll just let Christian know where you are. I’m sure he’ll want to join you.”
Aldis actually hisses like a python being taunted. “Go right ahead,” he spits before turning and walking away. When Jared looks over, Jensen might as well be licking his lips to match his satisfied sneer. That expression softens into a smile when he sees Jared checking him out.
“Glad to see you’re making friends,” the vampire says.
“What was that all about?” There’s no sign of Aldis in the quad when Jared looks around. “I’ve never done anything to piss off Aldis, have I?”
Jensen shrugs and grabs Jared’s bag, slipping it over his shoulder. The patched messenger clashes with his pinpoint oxford and slate slacks, but Jared enjoys the way boyfriend looks on Jensen.
“Don’t worry about Aldis. I think he’s off his meds.”
“Huh?”
Jensen laughs. “Stay-at-home mom who pounds fistfuls of Prozac. It’s hard to quit a feed like that cold turkey.”
The joke falls a little flat, and Jared says nothing as they cross campus, night closing in thick around them. At least he’s not alone.
“Sorry, Jay,” Jensen says when they get to the Impala. “I wasn’t thinking back there. I should have let you handle it.”
“With Aldis? Hey, I’m not complaining. Protection or not, I’m glad you showed up.” Inside the car, Jared feels the knots in his gut beginning to unravel, the familiar tang of leather closing around him like a protective aura. “Ever since Lyssa and Alex, I’ve been afraid that I’m attracting the wrong kind of attention.”
“Then I’ll have to make sure you’re getting plenty of the right kind of attention,” Jensen teases. “Just to make up for that.”
Jared’s learned a lot about Jensen over the last five weeks, picking out so many things he’d never bothered to know about the vampire before, back when he’d tried to write off Jensen’s regard as unwanted. At the top of that list: Jensen has a sense of humor. Warped, sometimes, and out of date, but it’s there. It clashes with the burned-in memories Jared has of Jensen’s stoic courtship years ago, and Jared had always guarded the notion that vampires lost their humor along with their heartbeat. He’s happy to be wrong, even as he puts up with uncomfortable innuendos and self-deprecating jabs about the undead.
“Don’t worry about Aldis,” Jensen repeats, the brightness in his eyes growing inverse to the thickening twilight. “He’s harmless.”
“Didn’t sound harmless.” Jared steers away from campus, knowing where to go without asking Jensen. Aldis had never bothered him before, but then a lot has changed since Jared’s deal.
“The man’s ego has been inflated ever since he got promoted to ‘head vampire geek’.” Jensen uses air-quotes and Jared laughs despite his anxiety.
“What kind of job is that?”
“Aldis knows his way around computer networks,” Jensen explains, “and now he trolls through them all night, making sure nothing confidential about Richardson is popping up out there.”
“He monitors everything?” Jared asks, discomfort growing like a physical ache.
“Not everything, but technology brings with it a whole new set of problems for vampires. Like, outsiders coming to the university, writing emails home about weird things, or strangers seen roaming at night. Texts, blog posts, anything like that-it all filters through his nets and the incriminating stuff disappears.”
After taking a moment to process this, Jared mutters, “That’s fucked up.”
“I know,” Jensen calmly admits. “But that’s life here.”
“Students come to Richardson never knowing what kind of place they’re jumping into. It’s different for me, I grew up here, but these people don’t know the difference!” Jared’s voice picks up steam, frustration in control of his emotions. “It’s dangerous and it isn’t fair!”
Wise for all his years, Jensen lets Jared have his tirade, remaining silent until they pull into the lot behind Misha’s bar and Jared kills the ignition. Still wound up from facing Aldis, Jared is practically gunning for a fight, but he forces himself to calm down with a few deep, measured breaths.
“Sorry, I’m just…” Jared sighs. “My life is weird.”
“I’m not going to argue with that,” Jensen tells him. “It is pretty weird.”
“Aren’t you worried about Aldis though? That he might hurt someone on campus?”
“He knows better than to feed in the open, or attack someone. There are laws.”
Jared snorts-he can’t help it-and Jensen’s focus becomes sharper than it’s been since he appeared. “There are, Jared, and there are consequences for those who break them. Aldis wouldn’t dare, and besides, Christian’s vigilant. He’d never let Aldis do any damage.”
Jared’s never met Christian face to face, but he knows the other vampire is one of Jensen’s closest friends. Jensen paints Christian as strong, dependable, and trustworthy, but Jared’s heard stories of Christian the Enforcer, the vampire tasked with eliminating problems. At least that’s what Chad tells Jared; he really has no idea what to make of Christian’s see-sawing reputation.
There’s an open table at the back of the bar, and Jensen darts ahead to steal it away from an approaching all-human couple. Jared nods politely as the couple turns and gives the table a wide berth.
“We could’ve sat at the bar.”
“This is better,” Jensen says, and Jared decides not to comment on the fact that Jensen can see the entire room from his seat. “What are you having?”
“Worried about how I’ll taste later?”
Jensen’s lip curls in a way that is entirely too attractive. “No one likes to kiss a boyfriend with onion breath.”
Away from campus and in the familiar bustle of Misha’s Tavern, Jared relaxes. He’s been coming here for years, and ever since the Tavern became “neutral” a few years ago, Jared doesn’t have to worry about being here with Jensen.
Though, it’s not much of a date place.
Jared orders fried chicken and a biscuit-“that’ll clog your arteries,” Jensen mutters-and hands his menu to the pale, perky, gothed-out human waiting on them. Jensen keeps it simple with two fingers of the Tavern’s best scotch.
“Not hungry?”
“I ate before I came to find you.”
“Rabbit?” Jared asks, grinning across the table. “Or maybe a squirrel?”
Jensen’s mouth is flat when he asks, “Would you eat a squirrel?”
Well aware of the fact that vampires need human blood to survive, Jared’s comfortable with the joke, but the subject of Jensen’s diet is tough to wrap his instincts around. And lately he’s gotten more and more curious.
“You could have waited,” he says, spinning his glass on the table, fingers drumming. “Eaten here, or whatever.”
Jensen’s stare calculates, picks apart Jared’s comment. It’s not that Jared is eager to watch his vampire boyfriend throw back a pint or two of blood, but Jensen puts up with Jared stuffing his face all the time-only fair he tolerate it the other way around.
“You want me to drink in front of you?”
Nodding, Jared says, “You don’t need to hide it from me. I mean, you watch me eat all the time, and it’s not gross. Right?”
“It is when you eat barbecue,” Jensen deadpans, and Jared scoffs, knowing he walked straight into that one.
The fried chicken arrives in a cloud of battered aroma; Jensen feigns gagging. With a triumphant grin, Jared’s about to crunch into the first flaky piece when he notices their server hovering awkwardly beside the table. Her dark eyes, drawn into pitch-lined almonds, are staring Jensen down. Her mouth is round and open, wrapped around a soundless moan of wonder.
Jared’s usually robust appetite deflates. Jensen ignores the woman-girl, really, since she’s younger than Jared-with a chilled indifference.
“Um”-Jared checks out her nametag-“Morgan, is there something you need from us?”
As if Jared’s a specter, Morgan talks right through him. “You’re Jensen Ackles, right?” she asks, voice as high as the ceiling. “Of the Ackles?”
Jared lowers his crispy drumstick. “I don’t really think this is appropriate.”
“You are!” Morgan bulldozes ahead. “Oh my god, this is amazing. I mean, I knew I’d meet a few of you working here, but Jensen Ackles…I’m a huge fan!”
Jared hasn’t taken a bite and he wants to vomit. A few months ago a display like Morgan’s would have made him sick for different reasons: vampires were detestable, ruthless, and dangerous-anyone claiming to be a fan he chalked up to being a pathetic fang-banger. Tonight, Jared wants to bite back, tell her that Jensen is spoken for. But old prejudices jam up in his throat, silencing him.
“I know all about your family, I mean, what people tell me, and if you ever needed, you know”-she arches her neck in a pathetically unsubtle gesture-“I am totally willing.”
“Morgan.” Jensen’s voice could turn Jared’s sweet tea to ice. Morgan’s drivel stops immediately, her eyes outstretching her thick eyeliner. “You are making a scene.”
As if her blood freezes in her veins, Morgan goes rigid while Jared watches.
“Jensen,” he whispers uncomfortably, but before he can say anything else, a slender man wearing a black apron steps up to their table.
“Morgan, you’ve got another order up in the kitchen.” Misha has to physically turn his server towards the swinging door in the back, giving her an extra nudge to break the trance. When she’s gone, the tavern’s owner sighs. “Sorry about that, guys. New hire.”
“Where do you find these kids, Misha?” Jensen asks, easily side-stepping the tension from a moment ago. “The ‘Fang Me’ ads on Craigslist?”
“Hey, she seemed fine when I interviewed her.”
“She looked normal to you.” Jensen’s snark is evident in the tilt of his eyebrows.
“Not everyone in the eyeliner crowd is eager to be fanged, you know,” Misha counters, batting his own kohl-lined lashes. “But I’ll talk to her, don’t worry. You guys doing alright?”
“It’s been an interesting night,” Jared says, his appetite returning. After taking a bite of his drumstick, Jared stops to lick his fingers and catches the moment Jensen’s eyes flare with interest.
“Well, just tell me if you need anything. I’ll keep Morgan busy while you’re here, take care of you myself.”
“Appreciate it, Misha.” Jared nods as the man walks away. He’s eager to forget the hassles they’ve run into today and get back to teasing his boyfriend with batter-slick fingers and warm smiles, knowing their respite may be a short one.
Sure enough, as Jared goes for his third piece of chicken, Jensen’s cell rings.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jared mutters.
Jensen takes one look at the number and narrows his eyes. Says, “I have to take this,” and downs the rest of his scotch in a single swallow before disappearing through the dinner crowd.
Obviously, Jared’s relationship with Jensen isn’t ideal. He’s lost count of the number of phone calls, urgent emails, and late night visits from shadowy figures that have wedged into their time together. Before, when Jared was in high school and Jensen’s gaze was just the weight he carried with him, he never understood it. Now he does: Jensen is important. History is one thing, but Jensen’s so connected-the undead heart of Richardson-and his sudden return to town five weeks ago seems to have changed something. And not a good something, if Jensen’s post-call scowls are anything to go by.
Misha startles Jared when he sets another glass of scotch on the table. “Did Jensen leave?”
“He stepped out. Important call, I guess.” He gets a lot of those.
While Misha’s eyes are trying to pick out Jensen through the tavern’s front windows, Jared considers his strange friend. Misha is well known on both sides in Richardson: one of the first to push for neutral establishments in order to build bridges and alleviate fears. Jared’s cynical about how well that can really work, but Misha could be an untapped source of information.
“Hey, Misha…” Jared’s not sure how to begin. “Is there anything, you know, that I should be worried about?” His gaze floats to the door where he can see Jensen’s shoulders aglow in the lamplight. “Is there something going on?”
Misha’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Always something going on in Richardson,” he says, lilting like Jared’s supposed to get the joke. When Jared doesn’t let up on his frown, Misha sighs. “Nothing to do with you, I’m sure. Are you really worried?”
“Just lost, I guess.”
“Want to borrow my copy of Dating the Dead? I have it in hardcover.”
“Would it give me tips on keeping up with my vampire’s crowded social calendar?”
“Sure, along with some great recipes to please you and your fanged partner,” Misha teases, and they both laugh.
Outside, Jensen’s pacing in a circle, meeting Jared’s stare once or twice. His lips quirk in a quarter-grin when he does. Jared’s stomach settles a bit, and the rest of his dinner begins to look appealing again.
“Misha, have you ever…” Jared gestures with two hooked fingers.
“Fought a bear? Danced with a tarantula?”
“Been with a vampire.”
Misha’s demeanor flatlines, and Jared backtracks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I know it’s personal. I just…I have no idea what’s going on most of the time.”
Misha sighs, expression less stony. “You’re sort of in uncharted territory right now,” he says. “No one really dates vampires. It’s all fang n’ bang around here,” he finishes crudely.
“No one?” Jared asks, thinking of Morgan and her behavior, the same he’s seen in other vampire-obsessed humans.
“Nothing as”-Misha pauses to choose the right word-“mutual as your thing with Jensen. The idea of romancing a vampire appeals to certain people, obviously, but that never really goes both ways.”
Before Misha can say more, Jensen returns to the table, slipping his cell phone into his pocket. Misha nods to Jensen and walks away towards the kitchen where another server is struggling to balance three plates.
“Everything okay?”
“Politics,” Jensen says, no tone to give Jared a clue. “It would be so much easier if no one knew I’d come back, but-”
“But you didn’t exactly return quietly,” Jared finishes for him. Picking a fight over Jared with another powerful vampire and her septic tank of a brother was hardly inconspicuous. Not that Jared isn’t grateful.
Jensen smirks and picks up his drink. “Guess not,” he says, then throws back the scotch. “You still eating?”
The last pieces of chicken are cold, the sauce sticky. “We can go if you want.”
“Grab a box, you’ll be hungry later.”
“Oh yeah?” Jared asks warmly, liking the hint. “Gonna wear me out?” He wishes vampires could blush; flushed cheeks would make Jensen even more irresistible.
It’s almost as good as a blush when Jensen pulls two twenties from his wallet and slides them underneath the salt and pepper caddy, strained voice telling Jared, “Right. Now we’re really leaving.” Jared would argue the gesture except he doesn’t get paid for his on-campus job until Friday and he’s pretty sure Jensen’s drinks cost more than his dinner.
One Styrofoam box and a hurried goodbye to Misha later, Jared and Jensen step back out into the night. Jensen’s grip on Jared’s hand is as cool as the air around them, but Jared’s fingers feel a phantom-warmth-the promise of more to come tonight.
This is the easy part, Jared thinks: the undeniable-and unrelenting-physical want between them. In the place where they don’t have to talk, where the feelings simply are.
The Impala rolls through the blue dark, heading for home. With Jensen’s eyes already sharp and his fingers stroking between Jared’s knuckles, Jared knows they can’t get there fast enough.
~~~
“We could stay at my place, you know.”
Jensen’s remark sounds casual-and he’s got the posture to go with it-but Jared’s heard this before.
“What’s wrong with my place?” he asks, pulling dry towels off the banister and folding them. Katie must not have called their landlord about the dryer yet.
“It’s so apartment-ey.” At least Jensen keeps that from sounding too awful.
“It’s actually a townhouse, you know.”
Jensen looks over. “There’s a difference?”
“Not really, I guess.” Jared shrugs. He doesn’t need to defend his place, but he can’t help it. “I like it, and I can afford it. Campus isn’t far and it’s got plenty of room-“
“That you have to share,” Jensen remarks. “What about living on your own?”
“Jensen…” After the evening he’s had, Jared isn’t in the mood to be logical about touchy subjects. Hell, he barely wants to be conversational. “I can’t leave Katie like that. She can’t afford this place without me. And ever since her parents disappeared, she’s been on her own. I’m not leaving her.”
“Jared-”
“I know. I know you didn’t have anything to do with the Cassidys going missing,” Jared says, pushing the familiar rage back down into his gut. “It’s just not fair.”
A moment ticks by, nothing said. Jared takes stock of his rented townhouse: the carpets need cleaning, mismatched hand-me-downs are mixed with minimalist IKEA furniture, and there are school books dropped wherever Jared got fed up with studying. The shortcomings are obvious.
“It’s not like I can just stay with you at Ackles Manor,” Jared says, hesitant and awkward.
Jensen’s hands are in his pockets, fidgeting. “It’s not actually called that.”
“Sorry. Look, can we just forget all of this right now? I’m really not in the mood to get into anything serious.” Jared sighs, dropping to sit on the staircase. “I just want-“
As if he knows what Jared’s thinking-as if he puts the thought there himself-Jensen kneels over Jared’s legs and presses him back against the stairs. The vampire’s kiss is the first amazing thing Jared’s felt all day, cool tongue like a balm on his nerves. He loves this-fucking loves the way Jensen kisses him, as if the three years he’d spent away from Richardson are something to make up for. Jared never thinks of them as penance; without those years he might never have reached this point. And with Jensen’s lips wide open against his, cool skin under Jared’s fingertips, he’s really fucking glad they’re here.
“Katie?” Jensen asks while his teeth are flirting with Jared’s carotid, pressure much too shy to break the skin.
“Good-ah, so good,” Jared mutters before he pieces together what the vampire’s asking. “Out. Working on a project at Taj’s, gonna be gone all night.”
“Perfect.” It sounds like a threat, sweet, dripping from Jensen’s barely-extended fangs. “I wouldn’t want her coming back and finding you at the mercy of a vampire, spread out like prey.”
Jared’s caught in a vice between the stair digging into his back and the equally unforgiving chest holding him down.
“Here?”
Jensen’s knees squeeze around Jared’s thigh, heavy line of his cock rutting against Jared’s hip. “Bedroom,” he growls, forcing himself away with visible effort. “And hurry.”
They tumble into Jared’s room at the top of the stairs; Jensen’s heightened senses lead them around piles of clothes and books, a shoe here or there waiting to trip them up. Back of his knees hitting the mattress, Jared starts pawing at Jensen’s clothing, impatience overcoming consideration for the havoc his fingers are wreaking on the fabric.
“Why do you always ruin my nice shirts?”
“Why do you wear nice shirts?” Jared counters, shoving the shirt over Jensen’s shoulder and covering the exposed skin with his open palms. The chill passes into him, involuntary shiver taking it all the way to his toes. But Jensen’s eyes are filled with fire, not ice, and his is mouth open to catch the scent of arousal in the air. “You know what? I think you kinda like it,” he tells Jensen as the tattered shirt is kicked aside.
“Yeah? What do I like?”
Jared never really intends to put the feeling into words-and maybe Jensen’s sultry response is rhetorical-but the burst of arousal he gets just thinking about it, forces his lips to move.
“You want me to cross that line,” Jared says, placing one hand on either side of Jensen’s neck. “You like knowing I want you that much-that I can handle this.”
“You can handle me, huh?” Jensen is barely making sense because Jared’s too busy obsessing over the shape the vampire’s lips. “All of me, Jared? Do you want everything?”
Everything that terrifies you, Jared hears. His voice is useless to answer, so he kisses Jensen instead, tongue drawing a yes on the roof of Jensen’s mouth.
In the space of a blink, Jared is spun away from the edge of the bed and thrown against the wall. Only gut instinct has him flinging up his hands a split-second before his nose hits the drywall. He struggles to breathe; in the wake of Jensen’s unnatural speed, the air has to catch up with Jared’s lungs. Jensen rarely unleashes himself like this-Jared imagines he’s trying to appear as human as possible-but when he has Jared’s permission, Jensen dominates like a category four hurricane.
Jared’s clothes are ripped from his body: seams, fabric, and buttons giving way as if they’re made of tissue paper. He feels no pain except the throb of blood into his dick, exposed and heavy, caught in a dry rub between the wall and his skin. A moan that’s half scream falls out of Jared’s mouth when Jensen reaches around and starts stroking his cock with a cool, invigorating grip.
“This feels awfully serious,” Jensen mocks Jared’s earlier complaint. “Are you sure you want me to get into it?”
“Oh god, shut up. Yes!”
Jensen’s mouth ravages the back of Jared’s neck, teeth bared against the meat of his shoulder; Jared wishes he could bite into those lips but all he tastes is drywall when he opens his mouth. The pressure at his back is unrelenting, Jensen’s palm squeezing and twisting.
“This is what you wanted.” Jensen’s voice is a soft blast of icy air across Jared’s cheek.
Jared groans, hips picking up speed. “You don’t need to hold back,” he mutters, knowing Jensen can go harder. “I’m not gonna break.”
The throaty laugh behind him serves as a warning. “You might.”
All of that wonderful pressure evaporates, and Jared wants to collapse in desperation. It only lasts for a few seconds before Jensen wraps around him, naked skin sliding along Jared’s sweat-streaked back. Jared feels the vampire’s cock, full and long, fitting into the groove of his ass, wet tip marking his skin. Jared had never allowed any of his exes to pin him this way-no one had earned the right to overpower him-but with Jensen, Jared has to fight the urge to drop his head and spread himself obscenely.
“Do you want-” Jared can’t say it, but Jensen reads the tension in his spine, loosening his grip to where it’s possessive, not restrictive. He curls into Jared’s body, thrusting and stroking at the same time.
“This is what I want,” he whispers. “All I’ve ever wanted. Just you.”
Jared could lose it right then-soak Jensen’s cold fingers with his come-but he clings to the last shreds of his self-control, edging away from his orgasm. He thrusts his hips backwards, hitting the cradle of Jensen’s thighs and nearly crying out as Jensen’s cock grinds forward and drags over his hole. No matter Jensen’s intentions, Jared can’t help tensing, waiting for the intrusion he knows he’s not ready for. He goes rigid for a moment, but once again, Jensen translates his body’s language, jacking Jared’s cock in an encouraging rhythm and pushing his own through the sweaty crease between Jared’s thighs.
Each time Jensen squeezes his fingers around the crown, or drags his thumbnail along the swollen vein that runs down to the base, Jared’s dick pulses and his entire body reacts to the sensation. His thighs contract, pulling Jensen deeper into the long lines of his body. Rhythm devolves into frenzy, both of them grasping and rutting until Jared can’t hold back any longer. His come spatters the wall in bursts and drips between Jensen’s fingers, cooling quickly. Jared hisses and grits his teeth, cock tingling as Jensen uses Jared’s come to stroke him down.
Elongated fangs nip at his shoulder, reminding Jared that Jensen’s still in pleasured agony behind him. Though Jared’s knees are quaking, he braces himself against the wall and lets Jensen’s pounding overwhelm him. The back of his thighs are going to be red and bruised from the force of Jensen’s thrusts, balls hitting skin, but he’ll welcome the ache later on. Only when Jensen’s come mixes with his, making a filthy mess of Jared’s thighs, does he slump forward, letting Jensen and the wall bear his weight.
“Are you gonna stay?” Jared asks later that night, after their mess is taken care of and Jared’s textbooks are open in a semi-circle on the bed in front of him. Jensen’s lounging against the headboard, playing Solitaire on his phone in between sending dirty texts to Jared about the feel of his come on his fingers. “At least until sun-up, I mean.”
“I was planning on it,” the vampire says, easing deeper into the pile of pillows as if he’s the prince of Jared’s bedroom. “It’ll be like my afternoon nap. And seriously”-he rolls a little closer to Jared-“it’s not like I can just go back and stay at Ackles Manor.”
Jared drops his notebook and laughs. “I thought you didn’t call it that.”
Jensen shrugs. “It fits.”
“It can’t beat this little apartment, huh?”
“Oh no,” Jensen says, reaching out to pull Jared down to meet his cool, perfect lips, “this is a townhouse.”
On to part two.