Fic: Crashing Hard Against The Rocks

[puchuupoet]

Fic Title: Crashing Hard Against the Rocks
Author: puchuupoet
Fandom/Genre: SPN/RPS AU
Pairing(s): Jared/Jensen
Rating: R
Word Count: ~11,100
Warnings: Language, some gore, heavy homophobia
Summary: Jensen's been primed for pack leader his whole life, and the time to take over is nearing. His parents, his best friend Christian, they're all excited for him, except he can't bring himself to meet their enthusiasm. A not-so-chance encounter with an apprentice tattooist may help him find the change he's been looking for.

The art post can be found: Here.


So many thanks to my lovely artist trueshellz for the wonderful art and prompt <3 And for all her patience with my internet issues. Much love to my betas playthefool and cho_malfoy for all the last-minute scrambling and looking after my comma usage ♥ Couldn't have done it without you guys.



"Come on, man." Christian elbows Jensen in his side. "You're way overdue for this."

"Gotta be the right situation, I told you that already." Jensen stretches back in the couch, a few sharp pops eminating from his spine. There's a lazy smile playing about his mouth, but Jensen can feel his muscles tightening in annoyance. "Why, are you tired of showing off all by yourself?"

Christian grins, and in Jensen's eyes his canines seem to lengthen with the gesture in eager anticipation. "You really see that happenin' anytime soon?"

"Not as long as there's pretty girls out there to fall head over heels for you."

Christian shakes his head, distracted by the game starting back up. He knocks Jensen's boot with his own, eyes focused on the screen. "Besides, what're your folks saying, with you taking all this time?"

Jensen stays silent, allowing the game to distract his friend. It's not until a sharper kick connects with his ankle that he glances over. "They're not exactly pleased, to say the least," he admits.

"Bet you wish you kept that sweet bitch from a couple months back, huh? Would've at least kept them happy for a while longer."

"Stop it." Jensen's voice is louder than he intends, and he watches Christian freeze out of the corner of his eye, his hand frozen over the remote. " Her name is Alona, and she was important to me. And she still is," he adds on, wishing it didn't sound so much like an afterthought.

"Yeah, sorry." Christian shifts on the couch, his eyes glued to the screen. "She was good for you." His voice is low, and Jensen looks over at him. "I mean, out of everyone? She was perfect, really."

Jensen silently agrees with him, the doubt and frustration familiar feelings gnawing away inside of him. They had been perfect, him and Alona, and he knew his parents had been hoping for an eventual wedding. Their little boy would be happy, and it would have joined together two of the larger packs in the area. A win-win situation for everyone involved, save for Jensen and Alona. As much as she had desired marriage, she had been the first to admit she wasn't the type for it, let alone for the motherhood that was expected to soon follow the wedding. And Jensen? Jensen craved the emotional security that marriage could offer more than anything sometimes, but preferred it came wrapped in a taller, masculine package.

"Sometimes things just don't work out though," Jensen finally admits out loud. Christian shifts next to him, and Jensen can feel the tension starting to radiate off his packmate. They've known each other years now, and Jensen knows his parents are grooming Christian to be his right-hand man. An admirable goal, and there's no one else Jensen would rather have by his side in a fight.

Except now there's no fighting to be had, not until Jensen makes his claim to be the new pack lead. And he can feel his family getting restless the longer it takes for him to decide, to fully commit to what they're asking of him. He smiles wryly to himself, sadly amused that if this is what their reactions are to him following in their plans, what sort of hell will break loose if he ever tells them that he's thought of the alternatives out there.

"You okay?" Christian's tone is the closest to concern he'll show in this form. When turned he'll cuddle up to Jensen, no questions asked, under the guise of staying warm and close to his lead. In their human forms however, it feels to Jensen that any sort of physical touch is a weakness, as if a strict counterpoint is needed to balance out their wolves' desires.

"Yeah..." Jensen looks over at the clock. "Gonna head out for a bit. Actually take some advantage of a day off," he says, smiling at Christian.

"Remember, if you get too many numbers while you're out there, pass the extras on my way." Christian holds his fist out, and Jensen bumps it with his own knuckles. "And if you're headed downtown, there's a tattoo place a couple of streets back, and I can recommend a guy. He's familiar with what the rest of us have, so you don't have to worry or anything."

"Thanks," Jensen nods before standing up. He cracks his back before grabbing his jacket and keys. "I'll keep an eye out down there." He just hopes that's vague enough to keep Christian happy without having to commit to anything yet.

==

The keys are a comforting weight in his hand as he steps off of the front porch. Jensen heads towards the driveway, his senses at alert as he makes his way towards his car. The air is a familiar mix of warmth and crispness, sunlight filtering through the tree boughs and scattering light over the forest floor. Jensen picks up the scent of a buck half a mile off, but it's too warm and he's too preoccupied to bother with chasing after it.

Jensen's car is sleek and gleaming underneath its canopy, the fabric protecting it from the resin and sap that drips down from the trees above. The classic Chevy Impala was the first thing he had earned on his own, long hours put into after school jobs, and the car is his pride and joy.

"Let's see where today takes us," Jensen mouths the words, unsure of who from the pack could be in the area listening in. The look of the car was what had caught his attention at first, but it was the sound and power that had kept him interested. Hidden behind the throaty purr of the V8 was the chance to talk to himself worry-free. His pack's hypersensitive hearing couldn't reach past it, and Jensen had used that fact to his advantage.

===

The drive to the main road takes Jensen several minutes, the driveway meandering through the hills that cover most of the property. The house he shares with Christian is set back far enough to avoid salesmen and missionaries, but isn't so lost in the woods that driving to town is a hindrance.

When Jensen cracks the window, he can pick up the scent of other members of his pack. They have free range on the land, a preferable choice when compared to the alternatives that other packs sometimes rely on. Jensen unconsciously grimaces when he remembers the newspapers several months back, the author demanding hunting parties when several flocks of sheep turned up slaughtered in the fields. The right amount of money had been slipped to the right palms to calm the fury down, but the packs left in the area were still doing their best to lay low and hope all interest in the topic would quickly disappear.

Jensen pulls a right onto the main road, the tires kicking up gravel in their wake. After a few miles the forest clears to open fields, the sea a cliffdrop behind them. The ocean breeze is cool, prickling at Jensen's nose and the back of his neck. Santa Carla's two main draws are the college and the beach, and while Jensen would give anything to be free of the annoyances that come with both, he can't help but admit the pull that the water has on him. He chalks it up to the moon; how he and the tide are tugged in every direction, at its every whim.

Downtown's the tourist part of the city, full of overpriced stores and way too many coffee shops, independent or otherwise. It's busy for a Friday and Jensen finds himself parking on the outskirts, several blocks off of the main drag. He swings the Impala into the parking space, pleased that this end of the lot is empty of other cars. "Nothing to ding my baby with," he murmurs as he shuts the door behind him.

Jensen's not intimately familiar with this side of town, and his hackles rise as he steps out onto the sidewalk. Far from the eyes of tourists, the buildings are shabbier, colors fading and peeling. Jensen's almost positive he can smell another pack around, but the scnet's old and masked by the scared dogs and unaware drunks that have pissed all over the cement. The only thing Jensen knows for sure is that it's not Alona's. He pushes the sensations to the back of his mind as something bright flashes from down and across the street.

He moves closer, a slow steady gait until he's across the street from them. He can see that the burst of color is a young woman, dolled up in a polka dot red dress, her mouth stained the same shade. Jensen can smell the pheremones from where he stands, desperation and hope all tied up in a pretty little package, and he wonders who it's being directed at.

A young man steps out from the doorway near her, an amused look on his face. "Not gonna work today, Lauren. Besides, Chad's not even in today. You got gussied up for nothing." There's a fondness to the man's look as he smiles at the woman.

"Can't blame a girl for trying," she says, twirling her skirt as she spins around, heading down the sidewalk. "I'll be back later though," she calls out over her shoulder.

"Depending on it," the man calls back with a laugh, and it's not until he starts to head back inside that he notices Jensen watching from across the street. "Hi! Don't be a stranger!" he yells, waving. "We appreciate non-buying browsers. Anyone interesting, really."

Jensen checks the street for cars before crossing over, his intrest piqued by the other man. The guy looks young but holds the potential to be huge later on, once puberty clears out. His sweatshirt's unzipped, and as Jensen walks up to him he starts to shrug it off, revealing a snug grey tank top.

"Getting warm out," he smiles, offering his hand, and Jensen shakes it without thinking. "I'm Jared."

"Jensen."

"You look like you're looking for something, Jensen. Or are you just an interesting character?" Jared smiles at him. "And is there anything I can do to help with the former?"

"Nah, just in the neighborhood..." Jensen trails off when he sees the look on Jared's face. "Okay, fine. Maybe there are some things on my mind right now."

"Important things?"

"Very important." Saying the words outloud is the closest Jensen's gotten to admitting the problems that he's facing, and he's close to admitting that he feels a little bit lighter, now that they're out free in the atmosphere.

"Anything I can do?"

The offer catches Jensen off-guard, and he squints at Jared through the glare of the sun. "What?"

"Come on in, the shop's slow right now." Jared turns around and walks back inside and Jensen finds himself following automatically, slightly relieved to have a chance to follow instructions for a change.

The cool air hits him the second he walks through the doorway, and Jensen pauses for a moment to appreciate the change in temperature. Once his eyes adjust to the interior, the room opens up to him, sleek wooden floors and a high ceiling.

"What sort of shop?" Jensen hesitates by the door, glancing around at the surroundings. There's several tall bookcases chock full of books against the wall, and when Jensen gets close enough to read the spines, he finds that the vast majority are reference and art books. There are large wooden sculptures hanging from the wall: a moon that drips with glass droplets, and two snakes twisted around, eating each the other, their twin rattles dipping into each others' mouth.

There's a collection of couches and chairs off to the side, all circled around a glass coffee table, the surface cluttered with magazines. The back portion of the room is partitioned by wooden poles and half-walls, individual areas marked out with artwork and metal cabinets. Thick fabrics are hung by large brass rings on the poles, allowing the the room to be divided up into more personal spaces while still keeping the open feeling.

"Tattoo and piercing, although we're sort of in the market for a new piercer. Lauren out there's aiming for it, but having someone less... emotionally attached to individuals on the staff would probably be best." Jared settles himself on a stool behind the front counter, leaning towards Jensen. "So, you're in the market for a clearer head?"

"Something like that..." Jensen's distracted by the posters on the wall, bright colors drawing his eye in. "What's this?"

"The flash? If someone doesn't have something specific or personal in mind, they'll often pick something off of there. Why, you interested?"

"...yeah," Jensen admits. "Not sure of what yet, but just, eventually."

Jared nods sagely. "Better to take your time and be one hundred percent sure instead of rushing into things."

"You sound older than you are."

"How old do you think I am?"

"Younger than me."

Jared grins widely at Jensen. "Is that a pro or a con in your book?"

"What?" Jensen's caught off-guard again, unsure as to how the man across from him seems to be picking through his brain so accurately.

Jared opens his mouth but is cut off by the door chimes ringing. The bells are almost immediately drowned out by a chorus of loud laughter, and Jensen can see Jared shift uncomfortably on the stool. It's a small movement, so easy to miss, but Jensen can't seem to keep his eyes off of him.

"How's it going guys?"

The group of men turn to look at Jared, and one of them smiles. "Hey, didn't know you were working today."

"Covering for Chad, think he came down with something. You know, like he seems to pretty much every month," Jared says pointedly, and Jensen suddenly catches a low rumble coming from the center of the group.

"Come on now, don't pick on Chad. It's not his fault his immune system's crap," the man replies before looking over at Jensen. "Consulting?"

"About to. And I'll check with you if I have any questions, okay? Don't worry," Jared adds on when the man opens his mouth in protest. "You're gonna have to eventually."

"I know." The man pauses. "I'm gonna go grab lunch. Want the usual?" The man waits for Jared's nod before walking towards the back of the store. At his exit the rest of the group disperses, exiting back out through the front door with a soft chime. Even though the interruption was brief, the sudden silence rings loudly in Jensen's ears.

"So?" he asks, turning to lean on the counter.

Jared runs his hand through his hair, the movement overwhelming Jensen's hypersensitive senses with the scent of Jared's shampoo and body wash, and he tries not to grip at the glass counter too tightly.

There's something about Jared that reminds Jensen of Alona, a carefree eager spirit that manages to get under Jensen's cautious skin. But there's more to it, a sense of right that had never fully clicked with him and Alona. Jensen can't tell if it's the base fact of his body reacting to the realization that Jared's a guy, or if it's Jared himself that's causing Jensen's head to swim.

"So, tattooed eventually. Any ideas yet?" There's an eager curiousity in Jared's voice that catches Jensen's attention, and he takes a few deep breaths before meeting the other man's eyes.

"Ahh, I've been.. encouraged by some of my friends to get a tattoo like them. But I'm not sure it's what I really want."

"Peer pressure's a bitch," Jared nods sagely, and Jensen barks out a laugh without realizing. Jared's eyes widen at the noise, his own smile turning into a large grin.

"Hey, don't judge, I've seen what happens in those situations. Sororities come in, all sisterly and lovey, and by the end of the semester it's all downhill and they're back here, talking about cheap cover-ups on their Friends Forever tattoo. Better to say fuck them than regret it. Which you would know if you were paying attention earlier." Jared wags a finger in Jensen's direction.

"I was totally paying attention. And how'd you know I wanted a tattoo?"

"Because you don't strike me as a giant single stud diamond earring type of guy. Or facial piercings, but I'd really have to get to know you better before assuming any other body part." When Jensen opens his mouth, Jared just smiles and keeps going. "And you want something traditional but not stupid. Or so I hope. Please don't tell me you want a barbed wire on your bicep or something like that."

"Nope. Dolphins. On my hip. Right here." Jensen lifts his t-shirt up far enough to expose his hipbone. "Jumping and shit."

"I'm assuming by shit you mean leaping over your abs, right?" Jared asks dryly, pursing his lips until Jensen can't keep a straight face any longer. The laughter that bursts out of him catches him off guard, and he can't remember the last time he had just let it loose like this.

"Exactly. I knew you were the man for the job." Jensen smiles at Jared, shaking his head as he tries to get his breathing back under control.

"Soon to be, but yeah, definitely." At Jensen's confused look Jared shakes his head. "Just about finished with my apprenticeship and then I'm good to go. It's mostly just finishing up the hands-on practice now."

"That seems like a catch-22."

"Pretty much. I've practiced on myself and a couple others, but people want larger portfolios to look at before committing. It's harder than normal since I'm a pretty recent implant to this area, so I don't really have my friends to bribe either."

"Yeah? What made you come here? Usually it's the other way around, all the college kids wanting to get the hell out of their hometown."

"Knew a couple of the guys here in the shop through some friends, and the area's always interested me. It's great being so close to the forest and ocean, and I gotta admit, the folklore drew me here as well."

"Folklore?"

"Second greatest love, after tattooing. Wanna go to school for it, but that's further on down the road. But I've been doing a lot of research, and it looks like this stretch of California is the most likely place to be inhabited by the last strains of werewolves and other supernatural creatures."

"You're one of those guys that chases after Bigfoot?" Jensen tries to hide the discouragement in his voice.

"No, no, nothing like that. But maybe, sort of?" Jared rocks back on the stool, a thoughtful look on his face. "The science of it all would be amazing, that such a thing could exist and function and thrive in the two societies simultaneously. And you know..." Jared's voice drops down as he meets Jensen's eyes again. "Think of the bonds that are forged and built in that situation. I mean, think of human families. Even our terminology is busted, calling ourselves nuclear families. It's like we're asking to be blown up and dissolved. Wolf packs, they don't have that. Through thick and thin, working together and all that. Combine that loyalty with what a person can bring to the table, and man, think of the possibilities."

"And you think all that's hanging around our little town?" Jensen shifts his weight from one foot to the other, moving his hands to his pockets. He clenches them into fists, the action allowing him a bit of peace.

Jared leans in conspiratorially. "I know it," he offers, a sly smile crossing his face. "Got some buddies here who told me about this place, and that information was what convinced me into coming. Said there were at least two packs in this town alone, and major stuff was happening, especially in the past few months."

"Really..."

"Werewolf politics." Jared huffs out a laugh. "Which is a phrase I never thought I'd say in my life, but there's a first time for everything, I guess." When he focuses on Jensen the smile drops from his face. "Sorry about that. I tend to ramble on about it, and I know it's not for everyone."

Jensen just shakes his head, trying to buy a few seconds to get his heart to stop racing. "Don't worry about it. I think it's just something locals have gotten used to and over with, no offense."

"None taken. Now, about this tattoo. What were you thinking, other than a no go on a sorority tramp stamp?"

Jensen hesitates for a moment. "It's sort of a tradition, actually. Everyone in the group getting the same one once they hit a certain point."

Jared nods. "Totally makes sense." At Jensen's silence he tilts his head at him. "Except it doesn't. For you," Jared clarifies.

"Exactly." Jensen shifts from one foot to the other. "But not getting it done's never happened. And I dunno what would happen if someone did go that route."

"Harsh." Jared slides off his stool.

Jensen shrugs. "Rules of the... house," he finishes lamely, the word pack almost slipping off the tip of his tongue.

Jared moves around the counter, motioning at Jensen with a wave of his hand. "Come here, these are way more comfy than standing there." He plops down on one of the couches, leaning back against the cushions.

Jensen sits down on the chair next to the couch, aware of how close his feet are to tangling with Jared's. He looks over the magazines spread out on the table, the covers full of bright colors and buxom models. He picks one up, flipping through the pages.

"So, what're your buddies' tattoos like?"

"They're on their backs, pretty big tribal designs, symmetrical." Jensen knows every inch of his pack mates' tattoos, the way the ink swirls and curls over the flex of their muscles. How the ink smelled when they first came home, swollen and raw and bristling with pride. But he finds that with Jared looking at him like that, curious and eager, the last thing Jensen wants to do is tie himself even closer to his overbearing pack. His nostolgia twists into guilt at that realization.

Jared doesn't seem to notice Jensen's sudden hesitation, too busy focusing on the description Jensen's giving. His eyes suddenly widen, and he stands up. "Is one of them a big dude with long hair?" he asks over his shoulder as he heads to the front counter.

"Yeah... why?"

Jared pulls something out from under the counter, and when he turns Jensen sees that it's a large black portfolio. "Gimmie a second," Jared mutters, flipping through the slick laminated pages. "Here, is this it?"

Jensen looks at the offered page. The photo shows a recent tattoo, the skin still pink and swollen. The black curves and dips come together to form a wolf's face, the eyes intent and determined. But Jensen recognizes the shoulders first, the way the hair's pulled off to one side, a leather tie holding it in place. "Yeah, that's Christian."

"Huh, okay." Jared seems to drift off for a moment, his fingertip tracing absently over the picture.

"Everything okay? You sort of zoned out there for a minute."

Jared blinks at Jensen. "Yeah, definitely. I didn't do his tattoo, but I was around the shop when he got it done."

"So you can do mine?"

Jared grins at Jensen. "Now that you've decided to get one? No problem. Did you want to talk about the details more?"

Jensen shrugs, flipping through the magazine some more. "All I know right now is that I want one," he says, tipping his head towards the photo of Chris's tattoo. "But that's as far as I've gotten."

"Something the same as this, but completely different?" Jared asks innocently, but Jensen can see how he's biting at the inside of his cheek.

"Exactly," Jensen chuckles. "I trust you."

And it's true. He can't feel the stress that had been crackling through his body the past few months. It's still there though, he can feel it deep in his muscles, but he has to search for it. Jared brings out a fluidity in Jensen that is an equal mix terrifiyng and exhilirating. Jensen just hopes that Christian won't be able to scent it when Jensen gets back home.

"What I can do is put together some sketches and we can narrow it down from there. Add, take away, anything you'd like."

"That sounds great. You already seem to have a knack for what I'm thinking." Jensen sets the magazine back down before standing up.

"It's sort of what got me into this place." Jared stretches back, his back cracking as he arches it. The motion leaves his tank top riding up, his jeans sliding down off one hip. Jensen tries not to stare, but he knows he's caught when Jared's fingers slide over the exposed skin to tug his jeans back up.

"I don't even have to read your mind to know what you're thinking," Jared teases, standing up and grabbing the portfolio. "Other than that I need a belt."

"Bitch." It slips out without Jensen realizing, the word echoing in the open space, and he freezes, worried that he had just crossed a line.

"Jerk." Jared calls back over his shoulder, and the casualness in Jared's reply puts Jensen at ease. Jared puts the portfolio away before leaning on the front counter. "Get over here so I can get your phone number..."

"Sure."

"... And the rest of your contact information," Jared finishes up, finally looking over and meeting Jensen's gaze. "You suddenly got in a good mood."

"Yeah, well. Making a decision that probably sticks it to your friends will do that to a guy." Jensen ignores the doubt twisting in his stomach. Everyone's been giving him shit to take a stand, and hell if he's going to back down now.

"With every door that closes, another one opens," Jared intones, but there's a serious look on his face. "Just promise me you're thinking this through and everything."

"Didn't know you cared."

"Don't, usually. But from what you've told me, these tattoos are make it or break it?" When Jensen finally nods, Jared shakes his head. "That's not something you just play around with. If you've got family, cling to them, no matter what sort of pains in your ass they are. You'll miss 'em some day."

"What if I'm missing the things I'm missing out on, that family's holding me back from?" Jensen speaks without thinking, not wanting to to fall into his tendency to self-censure.

"Well you just find yourself in a hell of a mess." Jared shakes his head, pulling a sheet of paper out from underneath the countertop. "Here, fill this out."

"Hell of a mess either way," Jensen mutters, taking the pen and paper from Jared.

"Then pick the road less messy. Cut yourself free and cruise around, no regrets. If you're gonna go down, at least be having fun when it all hits the fan."

"Easy for you to say. Didn't you just move out here to chase werewolves?"

Jared shrugs, but Jensen picks up on something deeper, hidden away under Jared's gesture. Jensen slides the paper back across the counter.

"Don't have any family left, really. Chad's my best friend, closest thing I have left."

"Oh man, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Jared shakes his head at Jensen's apology. "Don't worry about it. It was back when I was younger." Jensen hesitates, and Jared waves his hand at him. "Stop it, okay? I'm doing fine now. Especially since I have this." Jared waggles the paper at Jensen. "Means I get to spend my time creating an awesome tattoo that will blow you away."

Jensen laughs. "Then I can't wait to be impressed."

"I'll give you a call when they're all ready for you to take a look at." Jared sticks his hand out. "And then the fun will really start."

"Sounds great." Jensen shakes Jared's hand, the touch sending a rush of energy through him. He can feel his hackles rise as if they were actually showing, pinpricks dancing along his back. Jensen takes a deep breath, waiting until the wolf's calmed down before meeting Jared's eyes. Any fear that it was just in his head vanishes when he sees the curious, almost wanting look on Jared's face.

"Whoa," Jared breathes out, and Jensen thinks for sure something's gone wrong. "Are your eyes usually like that?"

Jensen must have looked confused because Jared leans in a little closer, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smile.

"Like, bright green. Really vibrant."

"Only with emotions and... stuff."

Jared smirks. "Really? You're that excited about getting a tattoo?"

"...yes?" Jensen realizes he's still grasping Jared's hand and he tries to loosen his grip as subtlety as possible.

Jared's smile just grows wider as he lets Jensen's fingers slide away from his own. "Well then, guess I better get on those sketches. Would hate to leave you hanging like this."

=====

It's not until Jensen is back in the Impala, the doors locked and windows rolled up, when he finally lets realization wash over him. It slips out as a high-pitched yip, dissolving into broken gasps of laughter. He rests his forehead against the steering wheel, trying to get back under control before heading home. He smells too much: of happiness and lust and frantic rebellion. The nuances will be lost to Christian but he'll still be able to pick up on enough to land Jensen in trouble.

There's a dog beach further up the coast, several miles past the last group of houses. Jensen drives there as quickly as he's able to and still stay under the speed limit. He's pleased when he gets there, the parking lot empty. It's just past the lunchtime rush, but still a couple hours before the town's schools let out.

The parking lot butts up against the edge of a cliff, and Jensen follows the wooden staircase down the cliffside to the beach. It's bracketed on either end by sandstone and rock, effectively penning in any off- leash dogs.

One last look around and then Jensen shifts. A lifetime of this and he still gets a dizzying rush from the change, how it overloads his senses and crackles through his body. He still can't explain the process, not to anyone who's never felt it themselves. It's not even going from one body to another, since he never truly leaves either one. There's an overwhelming vibrancy in his wolf form, the express need to check out everything, to roll around and dig and fight and be.

He lets loose then, all the excitement from the day building up in his haunches until he can't keep it in anymore. Jensen tears down the beach, the dry sand kicking up in billowing clouds behind him. He aims for the water, the packed damp sand that lets him dig in and get traction with his claws.

Jensen reaches the end of the beach far too soon, the rock wall looming in front of him. He turns around in a large loop, pleased to see the beach is still his alone. He pushes himself further into the water this time around, until he has to pull his legs high against his chest to clear the waves. Kelp tangles loosely around a foot, slick against his fur until it catches on driftwood and is yanked free.

When he's thoroughly wet, Jensen turns abruptly towards the beach, to the pile of clothes he left behind next to the cliffside. The beach is clear of of debris, picked up and carried off by other canines during their romps. The sun is warm against his fur as Jensen plops down in the middle of the loose sand. He turns over on his side, twisting around and around until he's covered in the fine sand. Jensen points his nose against the ground and pushes off, propelling himself through the dunes until he can't see.

Standing up, he shakes himself clean. Even though he wants to stay and bask in the sun, it's been long enough, and he's not sure when he'll lose his privacy. Loping over to his clothes, he changes back. There's a sense of freedom being lost in the change, but his bare skin is hypersensitive compared to the thick fur.

He hasn't lost his sense of smell though, and after pulling on his clothes he gives himself a quick once-over. Pleased, Jensen walks back up the wooden stairs, reassured that all physical traces of Jared have been washed away.

=======

Three days later, Jensen walks back into the shop, his stomach jumping around as if there were butterflies in it. Jared had just called, saying that he had some ideas, sketches drawn out that he had wanted Jensen to take a look at. But no matter how hard Jensen had pressed, Jared didn't tell him what they were of. "You gotta come down here," he had told him, a teasing tone in his voice.

"Jared?" The front counter's empty, and Jensen can't see anyone else around in the shop.

"Back here!" The disembodied voice comes from the far corner, muffled by the curtains drawn around the last station.

Jensen cautiously heads back there, unsure of what he might come across. It's someone else's territory, and even though he trusts Jared, he still feels his hackles starting to rise. "Where?"

The curtains open suddenly, causing Jensen to jump back with a start. Jared's lanky frame follows, and Jensen finds that he can't be annoyed at the scare, even if his heart's beating even faster now.

"Ha, got you, didn't I?" Jared motions Jensen towards a rolling chair. "Got some things for you to look at."

Jensen sits down, accepting the sheaf of papers that Jared hands him. "Didn't know you had your own spot now."

"I don't. One of the guys is on vacation right now, and this is the best chance for me to get experience while staying out of everyone else's way."

"Well, it looks good on you." Jensen watches Jared move around the booth, already at ease in the small space.

"Thanks, man." Jared smiles. "Now, let me know what you think of these ideas."

Jensen sifts through the papers, overwhelmed at the amount and variety of art on the pages. And Jared's talented, that's easy to see. But while so many come close to Jensen's request, none click with him in the way that he had been hoping. Jensen shuffles the papers around, starting again from the beginning.

"Not quite?" Jared's voice startles him.

"No, it's not that. These are amazing."

"But?"

"I dunno."

"Tattoos are like soulmates. Sometimes you just know right away." Jared tilts his head. "Although if it's the wrong soulmate, that can be easier to get rid of than a tattoo. Hold on a sec."

Jensen stays where he is when Jared leaves towards the back, disappearing momentarily past a large potted plant.

"So, this was more of a doodle than anything remotely finished..." Jared trails off as he hands Jensen a piece of paper. The design takes up most of the page, full of thick lines and confident bold curves.

Jensen just stares at it, the wolf on the page staring back at him. The pose is both playful and challenging, the thick tail trailing off into thin wisps of black ink.

"You're being too quiet." Jared breaks into his thoughts. "I can keep working on stuff if you'd like. And like I said, this wasn't really meant for -"

"Shut up," Jensen gently tells him. "It's perfect."

"Really?"

"It's totally me."

Jared grins at him. "Let me get my stuff together."

"All right, come around here and I can get you ready."

"Just stand here?" Jensen moves to where Jared points, nervousness pooling in his belly. He can't see what Jared's doing, just hears rustling and things being placed on the counter.

"Yeah." Jared turns around, a yellow disposable razor in hand. "If you can just roll up your sleeve, it should stay out of the way."

"Could just take it off completely," Jensen deadpans, but his smile falters when he sees the look on Jared's face. It's what convinces him to commit, grabbing the edge of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head.

"You could," Jared's voice trails off. "You sure you want to distract me when I'm shaving you?"

"I trust your deft touch."

"Huh. And you haven't even felt it yet." Jared moves next to Jensen, taking a loose hold of Jensen's upper arm. He moves it slightly before setting the blade to Jensen's skin. Jensen was right though, Jared's quick and soft with the razor, and he watches as Jared shaves a large patch of his upper arm. He stays still when Jared steps back, reaching to grab the slip of paper from the counter.

"Hold still." Jared holds the paper over Jensen's skin, turning it in miniscule movements. One swift movement and the paper's being pressed against his arm, Jared's fingers carefully smoothing it down from the center out to the edges. Jared waits a moment before peeling it off, and he steps back to look at it.

"Well?" Jensen breaks the silence, craning his neck to look at the outline.

Jared grins. "Take a look yourself." He nods his chin towards a mirror off to Jensen's side. "Let me know if there's anything you want changed, or if we can go ahead with it."

The artwork had impressed Jensen when he had seen it on paper, but now it causes his breath to catch in his throat. It's positioned perfectly, the body of the wolf following the line of the muscle, the tail curling around the curve of his shoulder. It's just the outline, but Jensen swears he can read emotion on the wolf's face.

"It's too much, right? Too close?"

"No." The word comes out sharply, and Jensen looks over at Jared. "It's, it's perfect. Exactly what I wanted, even when I had no idea myself. It's..." Jensen glances back to the mirror, flexing his arm a little. The wolf doesn't move; thank god, because that would have been too much for Jensen, but it flows with the gesture. As if it had always been there, and that's what makes Jensen's heart clench. Everything is coming together the way he had always dreamed, and he has to commit to that now.

"I done good?" Jared chuckles. "When you're ready you can lay down on the bench and rest your arm next to your side."

Jensen sits on the bench, pivoting around until he's able to lie down. It's more comfortable than he thought, and he watches as Jared fills the gun with ink.

"Gonna do the outline first, then fill everything in. Let me know if you need to take a break at all, and if anything gets uncomfortable." Jared pauses until Jensen nods. "You ready?"

"Never more so."

"That's what I like to hear." Jared leans in close, his gaze focusing on Jensen's face. "Your eyes are doing that thing again. That sharp green that makes leprechauns jealous."

"You believe in those too?"

Jared doesn't respond, the buzz of the motor filling in the gap. Jensen can feel the needles, the sensation odd and uncomfortable and nothing like he had been expecting. Jared's focused, and he doesn't respond to Jensne until the pain has moved from mid-bicep to the top of Jensen's shoulder.

"Parents died when I was young, about ten years old. Meant I was old enough to realize what I was missing out on, family-wise. Older brother took off when I was thirteen, cause he couldn't deal with raising me and trying to get his own life out of the gutter and functioning. Five years bouncing around from place to place can get under a person's skin, to say the least."

Jared pulls away from Jensen, leaning over to the counter to refill the tattoo gun. When he turns back around, there's an odd look on his face.

"Chad took me in, eventually, and introduced me to all this. Kicked my ass into my schoolwork and got me motivated enough to get into the local junior college here. Got me giving a crap about the future again. I mean, everyone has their own shit to deal with, and their own dark times. I was just lucky enough to break out of mine soon enough."

"Did the leprechauns help out?"

Jared snorts out a laugh. "Dude, don't be a smartass when I have the gun on you, okay? You got lucky this time." Shaking his head, he leans back over Jensen's arm. "They didn't, but the werewolves did. Chad started me in on them, luring me out to this town."

"Have you been searching for them for awhile or something?" The buzzing near Jensen's ear has almost become soothing, and the feel of the needle peppering his skin isn't bothering him like he thought it would. It's almost like the same rush his wolf gets running through the forest, pushing himself so hard it feels like he's going to burst.

The buzzing drags on, and Jensen thinks that maybe Jared hasn't heard him. He carefully glances over, doing his best not to move. Jared's staring at the outline coming together on Jensen's arm, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth. Jared's eyes flicker up long enough to meet Jensen's, then drop back down to his work.

"Not them, but what they stand for. The pack, how they're the perfect type of familial unit. I mean, I know I could've just tracked wolves or something, but the idea of throwing humanity into the mix. Those emotions and mentalities combined with that loyalty, it's sort of overwhelming to me."

"Every family has its cracks though."

Jared just raises an eyebrow. "Isn't it better to have something broken that you can work with than nothing at all though?"

"Can we take a quick break?"

"No problem." Jared pulls back, giving Jensen space. "Was it something I said?"

"Something I'm realizing."

"Y'know, tattooists are like therapists, with the talking and releasing emotions and all that. Plus we're cheaper."

"You think I need a shrink?" Jensen can feel the wolf snarl inside, and he tries to bite it back.

Jared shrugs. "I think you have a lot on your mind, and that sometimes it can help to let it out. I mean, I'm an orphan looking for werewolves and some sense of family. We're all a bit fucked in the head, you know, but that's how people deal."

Jensen grips at the padding on the bench. "Yeah, well. I'm a gay werewolf running away from home. So top that."

There's only silence in response, and when Jensen raises his head he sees Jared just staring at him. He's starting to swell inside, frustration and anger and hurt, and he starts to slide off the bench. Jared's hand on his thigh stops him though.

"I'm gay too," Jared says softly. "And if it makes you feel any better, I already knew two of those three things."

"What?"

"It's no big secret that Christian's a werewolf, at least around the shop. And when you mentioned you knew him, and were that familiar with the tattoo, I just put everything together. And you've been giving off vibes ever since you first walked in here."

"Werewolf vibes are that obvious?"

Jared just gives him a look. "Anyone else who's getting their arm tattooed will just roll up their sleeve and tuck it into place. You're the first one I've seen looking for an excuse to strip down in front of me."

Jensen can feel his face heat up. "That obvious, huh?"

Jared squeezes his knee. "You're adorable. But what's not as obvious is the whole running away thing. I thought packs were for life?"

"Mating's for life, and that's getting shoved down my throat too. Not like that," Jensen adds when he sees the look on Jared's face. "They're expecting me to pick a nice girl from another pack, get married, have pups and get us a larger pack."

"Holy shit, you actually have puppies? That's really adorable." Jared honestly looks excited at the concept.

"Except I'd rather do more with my life than roll around all day, keeping the rest of the pack in order. And my family wouldn't care about the gay thing if they knew about it, but it'd get in the way of the pack thriving, and that's not an option."

"So, running away. Makes sense. Where are you headed?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Anywhere but here? Exactly like that but different? You're a confusing man, Jensen."

"Keeps people on their toes."

"And at a distance. Except for the really stubborn ones, I would think."

"Really?"

"The sort of stubborn who would drive two thousand miles in the hopes of coming across a werewolf."

"They don't have werewolves back east?"

"Not the tan coastal ones."

"That's too bad."

"Totally is. But coming out here, running into you. I think I came out on top in the long run."

"I am a damaged sort of catch," Jensen agrees. He tracks Jared's hand, the slow push as it moves farther up his thigh, inch by inch.

"We're a matched pair then." Jared's grip tightens, his thumb stroking down on the inside of Jensen's thigh. A whine slips out from Jensen, lowering into a rumbling growl, and Jared pauses the movement. "Later, then?"

"You're a dick." Jensen wriggles on the bench, trying to calm his body down. "Should pin you down right here."

Jared audibly swallows, the noise pricking at Jensen's ears. "God, that's so tempting, but first things first." He pulls his hand back, rolling his shoulders as he leans back in the chair. "I'm not gonna kiss you until the tattoo's finished, okay? Cause that sort of distraction's the last thing either of us needs right now."

"But after?"

"After, I promise. Now lay back down so I can mark you up some more."

His whole arm aches, but all Jensen feels is pride. He starts to lift the edge of the bandage, to get another peek at the haunches, but Jared smacks him on his side. Jared's fingers linger on Jensen's hip as they walk up to the front counter.

"Stop messing with it. You can take it off in a couple of hours, okay? And follow the directions on the sheet I gave you. But no picking or touching it."

"Got it." Jensen folds the paper up into quarters, pushing it into his back pocket.

"Hold up." Jared grabs a card from the counter top and scribbles something on the back. "Here's my number and, um, address. If you're in the neighborhood or anything."

Jensen takes the card from him, purposefully dragging his fingers against Jared's. "Anything, got it. I have to meet with the pack tonight, but that doesn't usually take a long time. I'll let you know when I'm done?"

"That sounds perfect." Jared reaches up, his fingers slipping around the back of Jensen's neck. Jensen's suprised by the amount of strength Jared has in his narrow frame, and he lets himself be pulled closer. Jared's touch is tentative at first, but then Jensen slides an arm around his waist. It's what he had been hoping for when he had come here, even if he hadn't realized it at first. Through pain comes clarity, he had been taught, and it couldn't be any more obvious than right now.

Jared tilts his head back. "When you say you're gonna leave, are you gonna go by yourself?"

Jensen nuzzles against Jared's neck. "Well, that was my original plan, but things seem to be changing. And I've done crazier things than drag my tattoo guy out onto the open road with me. Why, you interested?"

"In shacking up with a werewolf with a hot body? Like I have anything else to lose."

"Fuck," Jensen whispers before taking Jared's face in his hands. He kisses him hard, teeth a sharp crack against each other. Jared's fingers dig into his shoulder and side, and the touch has Jensen's wolf pushing at the boundaries, whining to come out and play.

Jensen pulls back, trying to catch his breath. "Later tonight, right?"

Jared laughs. "I'm free the moment you walk out of here. Now get going, before any of my coworkers walk in on us."

=====

It's dark when Jensen pulls up the driveway, and he can see the house illuminated through the trees. He's about to pull into his spot, but at the last second he changes his mind. He pulls a u-turn, instead parking against the stone retainer wall that lines the driveway. It's where the lower members of the pack park when they stop by, and Jensen can't help but almost feel empowered by the gesture he's just flashed.

Christian meets him at the front door, the smile on his face dropping into surprise. "Where've you been?" Jensen can see the slight flare of his nostrils. "And with who?"

"Didn't realize I had to explain myself to you." The pain in his arm makes him edgier, less patient with stupid questions he knows his parents have fed to Christian, to be parroted back out under the guise of friendship. Or maybe he's always been this way, and now he knows that he has a reason to argue back; to break free.

"Thought it'd be good practice before you had to go face your parents." Christian gives him an odd look but steps to the side. "They brought someone else over for you. Think they're at the end of their ropes."

Jensen pushes past him into the house. The ground floor is empty, and Jensen shoots Christian a questioning look.

"They're all outside, last I checked. Fucking bonfire and everything."

"You're shitting me."

"Nope. Doesn't look like you're going to get out of this one, man. Should have stuck with Alona." There's an underlying purr in Christian's voice, and Jensen swears it sounds like amusement.

Jensen ignores him, instead opening the sliding glass door in the dining room to step outside. The air is cool, heavy with the scent of wood and dirt. The fire pit in the middle of the deck is in use, long crackling flames reaching up to the night sky. Jensen can see his parents off to one side of it, and to the other, a young blonde woman.

"Jensen, you're finally home." His mother doesn't move from her seat, and Jensen tries to remember the last time he's seen either of his parents. At least four months, since he wrote to tell them that Alona and he had parted ways.

"How've you two been?" he asks, trying to act like his usual self. It's hard, when all he can think of is the ache of the tattoo and the taste of Jared on his lips. "Hello," he adds, looking to the woman. He reaches out to shake her hand. "I'm Jensen."

"Katie. Your parents have been telling me all about you. School, your car, how close you are to the area."

Jensen frowns slightly at her choice of words, shaking his head before looking back to his parents. They haven't moved, bemused smiles on their faces, and Jensen's stomach flips at the look. He's seen it before, when the pack suddenly gets smaller, insolent members being kicked to the curb. His parents are on a power trip, and Katie's their newest toy.

Jensen takes a small step back, but before he knows it there's something solid behind him. Christian rests his chin on Jensen's shoulder. "Hate to see you leave so early."

"Yeah, I have previous plans I have to meet. Hate to leave them hanging."

"Is it the same them that I'll bet you taste of?" Christian noses in closer, the tip of his tongue swiping over Jensen's cheek.

"None of your business."

"But it is ours," Jensen's father breaks in. "And as our right hand man, Christian has every right to find out. And our blessing to use any means necessary."

"Good to know bloodlines are as strong as they ever were," Jensen shoots back, distracted by Christian grabbing at his wrists.

"When one bloodline dies out, another must begin anew. Or be created, as it were." Jensen's father shifts uncomfortably. "We've given you more than enough time to find someone, and you haven't taken advantage of that in the right time frame."

"Oh, he has alright," Christian leers. "I can smell it on you. Although I'll bet," he stage-whispers in Jensen's ear, "that your mom and dad won't be too happy to find out it's some human boy from downtown."

"Jensen, really?"

"Are you pissed that it's a human or a guy, mom?" Jensen squirms against Christian's grasp, causing the other were to grab at him. "Fuck!" he exclaims when Christian's nails rake across his upper arm.

"When have you been a softie?" Christian lets go long enough to yank Jensen's sweatshirt off, and his eyes go wide when he rolls up the sleeve. "Finally got your tattoo? Although it's gonna look like shit, being on your arm like that."

"Let go." Jensen struggles harder, but Christian just nips at his neck.

"Settle down and let me see." Christian's careful when he starts to peel the bandage off. The flare of the wolf's tail starts to come into view, and with a snarl Christian tears the rest of it off. "What the hell is this?"

"A tattoo, dumbass."

Christian shoves him away, broken desperation on his face. "You were my brother. For as long as I knew, you were it for me, and this is how you repay me? Some cheap ass distracts you from your lifelong dreams? And what the hell is that tattoo anyways?"

Jensen shakes his head, trying to take in everything Christian's saying. "It's me, asshole, doing my own thing. And how the hell would you know what my dreams are? And what do you even mean, was your brother."

"Exactly what I said," Christian growls out, shaking his head. It's the only warning Jensen gets, and he's quickly distracted when the fire snaps and collapses onto itself. When he looks back, there's a massive tan wolf staring back at him with ice blue eyes.

"We had been hoping it wouldn't come to this," Jensen's mother calls out. "I was going to say, you can stop it whenever you want. Just commit to Katie here and we can put this misunderstanding behind us. Except, I'm not sure Christian will be okay with that outcome."

"The son you always wanted and never had, am I right?" Jensen snaps out, never taking his eyes from Christian. "Come on, man, I don't want to fight you. If this is the life you want, that's great, take it. But I can't. I can't stay here, can't fit into their mold. And I think you know that."

There's a moment of hesitation in Christian's stance, the tension in his haunches relaxing a bit. But something passes over his eyes and the wolf shakes its head. Jensen holds his hands out, palms up. He can try to make it into the house, see if he could shut the doors in time. Or there's the pathway around the side of the house that lets out right next the Impala. But Christian has him beat with the night vision.

Christian howls once, a long soulful mourn that catches in the smoke from the fire and lifts upwards. "Dammit, you don't have to," Jensen whispers, even though he knows that's not true.

There's a rough skritch of nail against wood, and then a hard groan when Christian knocks the wind out of Jensen with his shoulder. Stumbling backwards, Jensen tries to grab at the deck railing for purchase, but Christian grabs on to his arm, canines tearing into his skin. Jensen kicks at him, only knows when he makes contact when Christian lets go with an injured yelp. Despite the pain, Jensen can't bring himself to change, to play pawn in their fucked up plans.

Christian pulls back, loping around before turning to run towards Jensen. He leaps, massive paws hitting Jensen's chest, pushing him down to the ground. There's no sense of recognition when Jensen meets Christian's eyes, right before Christian's jaw closes around his throat.

There's a moment of blackness, of the sharp scent of blood and the taste of bile. A loud popping noise gets Jensen's attention and he realizes that his wolf took over. Christian's teeth are still on him, canines starting to puncture his throat and Jensen starts to kick out at the realization. His back feet get traction on Christian's stomach, and he pushes off as hard as he can. Christian lets go immediately, a sharp cry escaping from his muzzle.

Jensen takes advantage of the moment, scrambling to stand upright. He's dizzy, his whole body is a mess of sharp pain. He takes off as fast as he can, his large furred ears pricking back and forth as he picks up his parents arguing and yelling, the soft broken noises coming from Christian. He'll check on him later, he has to, but that can wait until there's several thousand miles of distance between them.

======

Jensen manages to make his way to the Impala, following the scent of oil and cheap gasoline. His wolf is wounded, bloodied and broken, his hearing and scenting abilities dampened. He's not aware enough to go through a self-assessment of what's broken and what's not, just that everything hurts. He's able to drive to the main road with no issue though, and that's what convinces him to direct the car towards Jared's house. Jensen fumbles at his pocket, grasping for the folded business card he knows is in there.

In the daylight it's obvious that the Impala sticks out like a sore thumb, sharp black against the pastels and pale shades of the neighborhood. By the time he's managed to get it close enough to the curb, Jared's already walking around the front of the car, a confused look on his face.

"Hey, what happened to last night..." Jared trails off when he gets close enough to see Jensen's face in all its glory. "Jesus, what happened to you?"

"They saw the tattoo," Jensen mumbles out of the side of his mouth. He's pretty sure there's at least two broken teeth somewhere in there. He blinks, trying to clear the blood out of his left eye, and when he sees Jared's face he feels even more like crap. "Well, sort of. I told them I made a decision about the pack, and they didn't like it."

"Your pack did this to you?" Jared's voice is incredulous.

"Not all of them. A couple of the thuggier weres, if you want to be specific. And speaking of," Jensen twists around to check the street behind him. "Any chance there's a place I can park off-street?"

"Yeah, yeah, not a problem." Jared stays still, staring at Jensen's face for a moment longer before moving. "Up the driveway, to the left side of the garage. There's a narrow alley you should fit in."

Jensen nods, the movement making his head swim, and he does his best to park the car without bumping into anything. He succeeds, and turns the engine off with a sigh. There's noise behind him, and he realizes Jared's parking his car behind the Impala as well.

"I got a car cover you can use too, if you want?" Jared hesitates. "I mean, you think they'll come after you this far?"

Jensen shrugs. "Before this morning, I wouldn't have been able to picture them doing this to me."

"Jesus," Jared murmurs again. "Come on, let's get you inside. I can cover this myself afterwards."

Jensen lets Jared help him out of the Impala, leaning on him heavily once they move away from the car. The trip inside is a blur, Jensen keeping his eyes shut against most of the dizzying movement. He picks up Chad's voice, the jingle of his keys, and the creak of a loosening door hinge.

"Where're we?" he manages to get out, and he tentatively opens his eyes. The room is dark, the only light coming from the window. There's a sheet tacked over the glass, the light softly filtering through the pale sheet.

"My room. Wasn't how I imagined getting you into my bed, but..."

"But what?"

"... Nothing. Here, I'm gonna set you down and go grab some stuff."

Jensen feels himself being lowered down onto a mattress and he freezes. "'m gonna get blood everywhere."

"Dumbass," Jared chides fondly. "I'm gonna be hurt if I come back and there isn't blood smeared on my pillow."

Jensen snorts out a laugh as he lets him fall against the bed, the pillow and sheets cool against his face. "'kay."

When Jensen opens his eye again, the room's gotten darker. The edges of the window glow orange from the streetlamps outside. There's a glow to the side, and with great effort he starts to roll over to check it out. The pain isn't as sharp as before, but it's grown to a roaring ache throughout his whole body. A whimper slips out when he's almost on his left side, and the bed starts to shake.

"Dude, what are you doing!" Jared sounds frantic, and now that his good eye's clear of the pillow, Jensen sees that Jared's been watching something on his laptop. "You're not supposed to be moving at all, what the hell?"

Jensen stares at him in surprise and dazed confusion, until Jared starts to look embarassed.

"You're hurt, man. Don't want you to open up any more cuts."

Jensen carefully shakes his head, not trusting his voice. He can feel the bruising on his throat, where Christian's teeth gripped him and almost popped through the skin and cartilidge. He cautiously reaches up to tug on the neck of Jared's t-shirt. Jared sighs, giving a Jensen a look before sliding down to lay down next to him.

"This better?" At Jensen's nod, Jared settles in next to him. Jensen watches as Jared's gaze passes over him, taking in every cut and bruise.

"I mean, I don't want to see you like that ever again." Jared's voice drops, and Jensen tips his head forward, until it's resting against Jared's. "It scared the crap out of me, when you drove up looking like this. Worse than this," he clarifies, meeting Jensen's eyes. "You should know how much blood I've cleaned up off of you so far tonight. And yeah, you've been sleeping for awhile now."

Jensen shuts his eyes, but recollections of the previous night start to flood his senses. A cool hand on his forehead startles him, and he shifts over until he can feel the heat of Jared's body.

"You're healing really fast." Jared's fingers lightly move over Jensen's face and throat. "Like, I don't think you have broken bones any more, that sort of fucked up fast."

Jensen coughs, the movement barely hurting this time. "Perk of the job," he says. "I still sound like shit though."

"You sound like Batman. And yeah, your throat's pretty messed up still. But it's slowly getting better," Jared adds on, his voice not quite reassuring.

Jensen butts his head towards Jared, until the other man gets the hint and starts stroking Jensen's hair. Jared's fingers catch on his ear, and a shiver runs through Jensen's body.

"Oh, don't tell me..." Jared grins, crooking a finger to rest behind his ear.

"You'd do that to a broken man?"

"Nope. But an almost recovered one? No questions asked."

"Bitch."

"Jerk." Jared settles back down next to Jensen. "And you know, that word takes on an entirely new meaning in our newfound context."

Jensen bursts out laughing despite the sharp pain that richochets through his body, and Jared waits until his body's stopped shaking from the giggles.

"So, does this mean leaving's a sure thing then?"

"Oh, definitely. Part of the deal, me getting my ass out of this town. Sooner the better, really. For everyone's safety." Jensen curls an arm around Jared's waist.

"Good, cause Chad just brought home a new girlfriend, and it's getting really miserable listening to the two of them."

Jensen shakes his head. "I should be good enough to go in a day or two. I could try for tomorrow, but," he shrugs. "The more exhausted and beaten down I am, the less control I have over the whole wolf thing."

"Sounds good. Now be a good fugitive and go to sleep." Jared carefully kisses him, avoiding the cuts and bruises, and Jensen drifts back to sleep.

"You're still sure about this?" Jared can feel his heart pounding away in his head, and he bites at his lower lip, hoping against hope.

"I let you mark me, didn't I?" Jensen responds, a teasing tone in his voice. He bumps his forehead against Jared's, his tone turning more formal. "I'm serious, more than any other decision I've come across in my life."

Jared smiles, tilting his head up to kiss Jensen. "Good."

Jensen pulls away from Jared and heads over to the car, opening the passenger door with a flourish. "Let's go home, okay?"

"Best thing I've ever heard." Jared grins as he slides onto the leather seat. "You got any place specific in mind?"

"Does it even matter?" Jensen yells as he walks behind the trunk. He's silent as he gets in the car, sliding the key into the ignition before looking over at Jared. "I've got everything I need right here." He leans over, kissing Jared on the cheek. Jensen can feel Jared grow warm under his mouth, and he sneaks in a quick lick to the line of Jared's neck.