Stick Because I'm Stuck on You [PART FOUR]

[queenklu]

Part One |  Part Two |  Part Three



Knock knock knock

Jensen jerked upright so fast he thought he felt something in him tear. Fuck. What time was it? He hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell Mac. Shit, he hadn’t told Mac.

Jared growled, still human but only just, it looked like. Not a morning person. Alien. Whatever. Jensen dodged the limbs trying to keep him on the couch and limped to the front door with his stomach pounding in time to his heart. He heard Jared’s nails click on the floor at his heels and his body automatically blocked the doorway so the dog wouldn’t get out. Running on autopilot in the face of certain emotional trauma. Kawelo-Jared-did not approve.

His first thought was: It’s not a suit.

His second thought was: It’s not Clif.

His third thought was: It’s too fucking early for Jehovah’s witnesses.

“Can I help you?” he croaked, dragging the sleep out of his eyes. Then, “Oh, hey-Uh.”

“Hello again,” said Baldy from the bar with a polite half bow. “I’m Mike, by the way, we never managed to get introduced.”

“Hello…Mike.” Jensen let his hand get shaken, turned his bleary gaze to Mike’s boyfriend, who had to get nudged before he stepped forward. Jared let out a low rumble so close to the back of Jensen’s knee it almost gave out in self preservation.

“I’m Misha.” He grabbed Jensen’s fingers so hard Jensen thought they were going to break off. “Hi!”

“Hi, Misha. Hey, look.” Jensen sagged a little against the door so he could kick a foot back and nudge Jared away from his major arteries. “I’m sorry if no one got a hold of you but we found my sister alright. Um. Thanks a bunch for helping look, though.”

“Oh, no problem.”

“We were pleased to be of service!”

“Yup. Pleased. That’s…us.”

They didn’t move. Mike was the only one who looked uncomfortable about that.

“Uhh,” Jensen added, “But…thanks for dropping by to check on her?”

“Yes!” Mike clapped his hands together. “That’s the ticket. We wanted to check on the kid. So, if you don’t mind-“

Jared’s growl was mean, hackles up, teeth bared. “Whoa,” Jensen blurted, instantly blocking Mike’s entrance to protect-well. “I’m really sorry about my dog, guys. He’s not used to company. But you know,” he added real fast when Jared’s snarls got louder, “now’s not really a good time anyway. It’s really early and-” Clif is coming. Jensen scraped together an apologetic smile and gave Mike a nudge back out the door, keeping himself between Mike and Jared. “Why don’t I give you guys my number and you can drop by some other time?”

If she’s still here.

Misha opened his mouth but Jensen could not give a flying fuck, and neither could the door.

“I wasn’t going to let them in,” he said to Jared, heading for the kitchen to write down the number-or at least, a number. “You didn’t have to get so vocal about it.” Jared kept grumbling, pacing back and forth in front of the door. “Okay, seriously, use your words,” he said, giving Jared a push out of the way and, incidentally, towards the living room, so he could open the door.

The porch was empty.

Jensen stopped then took a tentative step forward. Not at the bottom of the stairs. Not in the yard. “Mike?” Jensen called, but he had to admit he didn’t call very loud.

A black Mercedes pulled into the driveway. Misha and Mike disappeared from his mind.

“Shit,” Jensen breathed, and slammed the door shut.

“Bad,” Jared said, coming out of the living room while he tugged the pink tee over his head and kept walking directly into Jensen’s space. “Bad,” he said again, eyes wide with Get it? and obviously clueless to the changes in the situation.

“Jared,” Jensen hissed. “Clif is here.” Jared tilted his head. “Rectangle-rectangle suit guy? Clif.” He was going to start shaking in a second, panic thick and painful in his throat. “Jesus, Jared, he’s going to take Mac. He can’t take Mac. Right? I mean, there’s got to be more than a couple informal-and then-and it’s a school day, he can’t-”

“Jensen?” Mac mumbled sleepily from the top of the stairs. She rubbed a fist over her eyes and yawned. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing-nothing, kiddo.” Jared turned incredulous eyes on him and Jensen grabbed his arm, whispered, “Please. Please, can you watch her? I’m going to talk to Clif, try to reason with him-”

Voices, loud enough to be right outside the door, cut Jensen off. Hard. They should have heard footsteps. Hell, he should have heard footsteps when Misha and Mike left. It sounded like one person-one man-on their porch, speaking to someone away from the door. Jensen couldn’t be sure, but it sounded a little like the guy named Misha.

“-not yours!” Now that was Clif.

Mac was the first one scrambling for the living room, Jared and Jensen on her heels in a second, Jared scooping her up in his arms to get them all there faster. They landed on the couch with a collective thump, Jensen’s hand on Mac’s head to keep her from rising too high in front of the window.

“Hey!”

“Shh,” Jensen ordered, and they peered over the windowsill.

Clif was at the bottom of their stairs, spitting mad at whoever was on their porch-whatever was on their porch, because Jensen wasn’t so sure it was Misha at all. He couldn’t get a good look at it, but jesus, the rattling hiss didn’t sound human. Clif yanked off his sunglasses and clutched them in one white-knuckled-one black-knuckled-Jesus Christ was that a-?

“Eww,” Mac pulled a face, “Why is he holding a squid in his hand?”

“He’s not.” Jensen exchanged wide-eyed glances with Jared. “I think that is his-”

Something shattered and broke, inside the house. Jensen sucked in a breath and grabbed Mac, shoved her behind him in the same instant Jared moved to shield them from the threat.

Mike stumbled in the living room trailing electrical chord. “Hoo boy,” he said, kicking free before he turned to face their warped little family. “Did you know there’s a fridge blocking your back door?”

“Um,” Jensen said, “Yeah.”

Mike laughed a little out of breath and took a step towards them, brought up short by Jared’s rattling snarl. His antenna were out, frill flared and the same blue-green-brown of his eyes, and Jensen noticed for the first time a dark brown ridge down each arm to the point of his light blue claws. He was willing to bet there was a matching stripe down the middle of Jared’s back, just like Kawelo.

Jensen looked at Mac. She looked at Jared, jaw slanted sideways. “Huh.” She squinted at him. “They don’t make Kupua like they used to.”

“Hey, man,” Mike said, hands up and pretty much entirely unphased. “I come in peace. I’m not after your boy.” Jared growled. “-Or your girl. But my boyfriend’s out there so if you don’t mind-” He joined them on the couch with his hands held high, sliding up close enough to peer out the window.

Clif didn’t really look like Clif anymore, so much as a black, blobby, tentacled thing in the middle of their driveway. Jensen had never been more grateful for the strip of trees between the lawn and the road in his life. But still.

“Mac,” Jensen asked, voice quiet, “You think that might’ve been the thing that grabbed you in the cove?”

“Aw, man, you were grabbed by this thing?” Mike groaned sympathetically, forehead falling forward with a thump. “I’m so sorry about this. It doesn’t really understand a difference between water and air. Breathing wise.”

“You’re sorry?” Jensen demanded. “What are you saying? That you’re-”

“Uh, probably. Hang on.”

Misha-that had to be Misha, he was wearing Misha’s garish orange shorts that clashed with the dark blue of his frill (his frill)-took the stairs three at a time, hit the ground in a crouch, and launched himself at Clif like some crazy combination of a linebacker, a cougar, and E.T. Clif bulged when Misha hit him, like squeezing a water balloon in the middle, swelling the last of his features until they were unrecognizable, black and swollen and writhing.

“Oh, nice. To the left, to the left,” Mike cheered under his breath. “No, your other-Behind you!”

“So,” Jensen drawled, ten million times more nonchalant that he actually felt. “Mike?”

“Yeah-okay, watch, watch-There you go.”

“Mike.” His hand came down on Mike’s shoulder, squeezed, shook. “Hi. You need to tell me what you’re doing here before I shove your ass outside with the aliens.”

“Hey!” Mac snapped, giving him a smack for cursing the same instant Jared let out an objecting whine.

“The other aliens,” Jensen amended. “And also how you managed to move a twenty-ton fridge by yourself.”

“Pfft,” Mike snorted, “That was not twenty tons. Believe me, when you start getting the freaky teaky powers, give that rust bucket a lift and tell me that’s twenty tons.”

“When I get what?”

“The-you know.” Mike wiggled his fingers their direction. Or, more specifically, his direction and Jared’s. “Power of voodoo. Hoodoo. Do what? Remind me of the babe.”

Jensen turned to share a What the ever loving heck? look with Mac, but when he turned it on Jared he found the alien preoccupied with glaring a hole the size of Mount Everest in the side of Mike’s head.

Jensen dug his thumb and middle finger into either temple, sinking lower on the couch until it was just easiest to face front, away from the madness outside.

Jared was instantly there, running his hand-claws retracted-over Jensen’s fingers and face, so much concern in every touch that Jensen had to hold his wrist to make him stop. “I’m okay,” he promised, thumb running over the vulnerable skin covering Jared’s pulse. “Just give me a second.”

Jared didn’t need a second. Jared was out of his crouch before Jensen could blink, yanking Mike back by a fistful of his puka-shell patterned shirt. “You,” he snarled, and Jensen got the gist of it without any other words: Your fault.

“Okay,” Jensen blurted, shoving himself up onto his feet and in between them. “Okay, Jared and I are going to go on this side of the room, and you’re going to stay on the couch. Mac, if he moves off the sofa? Kick him in the balls.”

Mike’s disbelieving laughter turned into a wince pretty fast when Mac showed him her teeth.

Jared was still breathing hard under Jensen’s hands, face turned away until Jensen grabbed his chin. “Hey, now,” he said when Jared startled. “Jared. Jared. This-that thing-did you know Clif was an alien?”

He kept it slow and calming, doing his best to make Jared see he knew the answer even before Jared shook his head. Something outside let out a gurgling shriek but from the look of Mike and Mac’s fistpumping it wasn’t one of the good guys.

“Then it’s not-Hey,” he said as Jared tried to pull away. “It’s not your fault. Jared, you saved her.”

Jared jerked his head in Mike’s direction, and it was either, He knew, or I knew about him. Jensen turned, walked back across the room, and grabbed Mike by the back of the neck.

“Hey!”

“Did you know this thing was after my sister?” Jensen’s voice sounded eerily in control for the way his blood was thrumming.

“We-”

“Did you even try to stop it?” Jared felt uncomfortably close all of a sudden, heat radiating off him like a furnace. Mac looked worried, wide eyes turned to him. He forced his grip to ease up.

“We didn’t know where it was until this morning, alright?” Mike had his hands up, wrists against the top of the couch. “And we really didn’t expect it to be people-shaped. When Misha engineered it-”

“When Misha did what?” Jensen blurted. “What?” he added to Jared’s Is this entirely necessary? grunt, “I’m sorry, but the guy looks like he couldn’t engineer his way out of a paper bag.”

“I’ll have you know he’s really very good with his hands.”

“Um, TMI,” Jensen said, tightening his grasp again-this time more or less for show. “So Misha-whatever, made the monster out there?”

“Yeah,” Mike said like Took you long enough. “We figured it would stick to animal shapes, which is why we were scoping out the pound for a while. Only that guy,” he said pointing a finger at his boyfriend through the window, “got one whiff of this guy,” thumb jab at Jared, “and we suddenly had a whole bunch of other stuff to worry about because apparently your guy is going through something like alien puberty where he thinks anything with an ounce of space juice is creeping in on his territory. Mainly, you.”

Jensen looked at Jared, who’d backed up far enough to level Mike with a look of wary but grudging respect. Okay, so the weirdo knew his shit. And Jensen wasn’t going to think about alien puberty until-never.

“But you aren’t an alien,” Jensen made himself ask.

“Noo,” Mike drawled. Paused. Leered. “But I’ve had my fair share of space j-Erk!”

“Hello, there is a kid present.”

“Gurrgk.”

“So you’re like,” Jensen said after he’d backed off again, “You’re his mate?” The word sounded weirdly…appropriate. For those two. Christ, if Chris had ever called Jensen his mate they would’ve both wound up in the hospital. If Jared-

“Mate,” Jared said, and Jensen’s traitorous knees turned to butter as Jared caught his gaze. “You.”

“Not-” The word came out barely audible. Jensen shook his head and struggled to turn his attention back on Mike. Important. “Why is Clif after Mac?”

“He’s-We’re actually pretty sure he’s not.”

Something hit the house like a bus, the force of a bus, incorporeal as a wall of sound but hard enough to blow out the window right by their heads. Mac shrieked but Mike’s hand was on her already, shoving her out of the way of flying glass. Jensen stumbled when whatever it was slammed into him, knocking him against Jared as Mike was thrown from the sofa. Jared didn’t move an inch, though he seemed more than happy to have Jensen in his arms. Jensen turned his head just enough to see Mac cough at the dust cloud, unharmed, before she pointed at Mike.

“He’s off the couch!”

Mike rolled on his side to cover his balls, coughing out, “It’s Jared. We think he’s after-”

His voice cut off with the absence of sound from outside. No birds. No humming insects. Dead quiet in suddenly the worst sense of the phrase.

Mike hissed out Misha’s name as he got to his feet, holding a shallow cut on his arm. The only reason Jensen knew he had one on his own face was because Jared whined and leaned in close enough to lick it before Jensen stumbled back and away, after Mike, trying so hard not to think about that word mate as Mike yanked open the door to-a whole lot of nothing.

More nothing than they were expecting. Mike nearly stepped into thin air before he realized the porch steps were missing. His head snapped up, and Jensen could see the exact second steps stopped mattering when he saw Misha lying in a crater the size of a car.

Mike jumped.

It was a twenty foot drop, easy; their house was built on the side of a hill. The distance didn’t even trip Mike up; he hit the ground running for Misha with a kind of strange grace Jensen had only seen from Jared.

The Voodoo. If he ma-stayed with Jared… Mike made it sound like some of the alien stuff rubbed off. Jesus. Why didn’t his brain think that was a bad thing? Probably too fucking occupied watching the way Misha’s dark blue feelers touched Mike’s smiling face.

“Okay,” Jensen started, tearing himself away from their reunion. “We-Oof! Ffffreak,” he hissed when Jared set him back on his suddenly unstable legs, twenty feet lower than they previously had been. “Please don’t-grab me and jump off of things! Without telling me,” he added, faltering a little in the face of Jared’s smirk.

Jared brushed their noses together so fast Jensen wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t imagine it, then leapt the twenty feet back onto the remnants of the porch to repeat the process with Mac. She thought it was awesome.

“Wuss,” she added just for Jensen, sticking her tongue out over Jared’s shoulder.

“You had warning,” he pointed out, not in the least bit pouting. Jared flashed his dimples.

“Next time you want a pet,” Mike was explaining to Misha (in an only slightly shaking voice) when they walked up, “I’m taking you to the damn pound.”

“They have aliens there, too,” Mac chirped helpfully.

Misha looked intrigued beneath the dust and swelling start of a black eye. “That was certainly the case before.” Then he caught Mike’s glare. “But. Or…not?”

“Something smaller than a pony this time,” Mike continued as he hauled his boyf-his mate-upright. Misha instantly and seamlessly fit against his side, one feeler sliding low to touch the tip of Mike’s ear. “Or hey, we could get you a pony, and you could put it on a treadmill and generate power for the robot I am going to build to destroy all of your lab equipment.”

Misha whined, sharp and distressed. Jensen exchanged glances with Mac, still in Jared’s arms. Definitely the same species.

“Or maybe something like a gerbil. Or a fish.”

“Why was your-pet after Jared?” Jensen cut in, “And by the way, in case you’re taking a poll any time soon, I’m all for your diabolical science shop of horrors equipment getting eaten by a pony.”

Misha looked liked he was going to scowl, glanced at Jared, and thought better of it. Jensen let the part of himself shutting out anything to do with Jared drop far enough to notice he was trying his very best not to tense up again or snarl at these two while he was holding Mac, tiny tremors skittering down his arms.

“That’s…rather impressive,” Misha said, apparently noticing the same thing. Jared’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I would have been able to stand this close to another of my kind during our courtship.”

“You were barely able to stand at all,” Mike snorted. His saving grace, as far as Jensen was concerned, was that he was the only one to get the joke.

“Do you want me to…” Jensen said, offering to take Mac. Jared shook his head and settled all the way in his skin, maybe a little too still but otherwise calm. Mac kept stroking his hair, giggling when an antenna stretched out to touch her nose.

Jensen snapped his fingers in front of Misha’s nose to get the speculative scientist look away from his-away from Jared. “Focus, please. Why on earth-or, uh, whatever…galaxy you’re from-would Clif be after Jared?”

“Ah.” Misha looked uncomfortable, frowning briefly at Mike like this was his fault. “What did Michael tell you about Jared’s-dislike of us?”

“Puberty.”

“Puberty?” Misha blinked at Mike, and Jensen could hear the same stumbling pronunciation that Jared sometimes had. “I don’t-”

“It’s not exactly that,” Mike cut in. “It’s sort of…pheromones. Jared’s giving off ‘hey wanna mate?’ vibes for you, but the critter picked up on them instead because it was the only alien around. But it literally had the brain of a pea,” Mike continued, demonstrating with his fingers. “It thought the girl belonged to Jared, and that you were competition. Or something. It’s all very vague. Like I said, size of a pea. Anyway, it must’ve figured out last night that looking like Clif was a way it could get close enough to kill you and grab Jared for himself.”

“So.” Jensen had to swallow a couple times before he could talk. “So. You’re telling me the blobby tentacled thing wasn’t always Clif-he was just Clif this morning.”

Mike’s eyebrows twitched a little. “Um. Yeah?”

“So you’re telling me Clif is still on his way over, still going to try to take my sister away, and now there’s a crater the size of a Buick and what is probably his stolen Mercedes in my driveway.”

“What? Jensen-“

“Dude,” Mike scoffed right over Mac’s protests, “He’s not gonna take your sis.”

The malahini-Ackles stared at him in incomprehension.

Jensen finally made himself ask. “And you know this…?”

Mike stretched, far too casually, instantly drawing Misha’s less-than-chilly gaze. “I may or may not have dropped some top branch military code words-that he, as an ex-special services agent, would undoubtedly have understood-into our conversation last night. Maybe.”

Mac and Jared turned both their heads in Jensen’s direction, Mac hesitantly stage whispering, “I don’t know what that means.”

“He’s just coming by to sign some papers,” Mike said, baring his teeth in a grin. “And as for the car, Mish and I can get that bad boy back in his driveway before his army surplus alarm goes off. It’s, like, five in the morning.”

“Jensen,” Mac whispered, snagging a grip on Jensen’s shirt to haul him closer. He went, stumbling, trying to remember words.

“Who are you?”

Still smiling, Mike threw an arm around his mate and turned them, sauntering towards the car. Jensen heard Misha trill something in Mike’s ear.

“Thanks,” Mike said, grinning into the kiss.

“I-” Jensen said, just a touch too loud. He bit his lip to shut up, looking first at the house, and then at Jared and Mac. Took another breath, then gave up and rubbed a hand over his face. “We’re going to need a ladder.”

~*~

Clif, when he showed, did not look at the missing porch steps so hard Jensen thought he was going to pull something. Jensen tried a couple stammering excuses even though he’d told himself he wouldn’t, but Clif just went pale and muttered, “Sign here,” until Jensen gave up. He wasn’t even entirely sure what he was signing, except they seemed to be some sort of performance reviews. Nowhere in there did they say he was surrendering custody, and that was the only thing that mattered.

Clif stopped right before he got back in his car, the whole process having never made it past the driveway. “I think you’ll do your best by her,” he said, and Jensen could see the half-truth in there, too, without the sunglasses in the way.

“My best is all I’ve got,” he answered, maybe pushing his luck just a little. He didn’t need to hear Clif saying Let’s hope that’s enough. Mac had Jared’s best working for her, Kristen’s, and maybe even Mike and Misha’s.

They were going to be okay.

Jared trotted around the house just as Clif pulled out of the driveway, his arms full of lumber from Jensen’s dad’s attempt at a greenhouse some eight months back. It was mostly intact, seeing as it’d never made it out of the protective covering. Jared smiled at him when he got close, a quiet and curious curl of his lips that Jensen could read better than Shakespeare.

“So,” Jensen said, accepting an armful of wood to lay out across the remnants of steps they were using as work horses, “I heard somewhere that you’ve been leaking pheromones.”

Jared suddenly seemed really interested in an imaginary bird flying over head.

“Jared?”

“Hmm?” he hummed like he hadn’t heard, curve of his cheekbones turning pink.

Jensen thought about all the things he would normally say-things like, Do you understand the ramifications of entering into a long term relationship with someone raising a child? But Jared obviously did know. He’d never acted like it was him and Jensen with a side order of Mackenzie. It didn’t feel like Jared was an outsider trying to integrate into their family, just a piece they hadn’t known was missing from their puzzle.

He knew there was a helpless sort of grin pulling at his mouth when he sidled over to Jared and let the head of his hammer fall into Jared’s open hand, keeping a light enough grip on the handle that he could tug him closer to watch the answering grin dimple Jared’s face.

“You know how to use one of these?” he asked.

Jared said, “I will learn,” against his mouth, and kissed him.

What did he need, anyway? Assurances? This mate thing sounded pretty damn permanent.

EPILOGUE

“Mac! There better be shoes on your feet!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“Kristen?”

“Okay, they’re going on now, Shoe Nazi.”

“Shoe Nazi!” Mac agreed, ducking her head so Jensen could walk over her on their stairs. The porch ones were almost done, but for the time being they were stuck using the back door. Jensen had watched Jared move the fridge further out of the way and thought, Huh. Voodoo.

“Please don’t teach my sister new words,” Jensen said, pained, and leaned forward so he could kiss Kristen’s cheek.

“Shoe Nazi!” Jared chirped from the doorway. Jensen was 99% sure it was just to piss him off. The other 1% was that Jared like to show off.

“Or my boyfriend,” Jensen amended, pulling a face.

Kristen laughed, ruffling his hair. “What kind of aunt and surrogate sister would I be? Huh?”

“A better one?”

“He means thank you,” Jared said, only a little bit of hesitation before each word. Jensen conceded a stealth high five with Mac to show their solidarity on the goal of giving Jared a twang by the end of the month.

“Yes, he does,” Kristen agreed, twinkle in her eye that Jensen knew he wasn’t going to like. “I’m just glad he found something to do on a Friday night.”

“Oh my God,” Mac wailed, slapping her hands over her eyes. “We need to leave before they start kissing.”

“Okay, okay,” Kristen laughed, leading her temporarily blind ward towards the back door. “We’re going. Have fun you two!”

Jensen waited until the door was firmly shut before he rubbed at his eyes. “Christ. I don’t think she could’ve winked any harder.”

“Mmm,” Jared hummed against the space between Jensen’s neck and shoulder, hands settling on his hips, thrumming with the kind of energy they’d been fighting all week while they settled into their new life. Jared spent a good chunk of time as Kawelo-especially at night-because he said sometimes it was easier to be around Jensen like that. Jensen didn’t have to ask which times.

Jensen took a breath and turned in Jared’s grip, even when it settled even tighter, Jared’s thumbs pressing into the flesh just under Jensen’s hip bones. “Kiss me,” Jared said when Jensen didn’t immediately.

“Oh, I’m going to,” Jensen promised on an exhale that was only a little bit unsteady. “First,” he added before Jared could duck his head, “Ground rules.”

Jared frowned, arching an eyebrow. Really?

“Yes, really. Just-Can you try to keep the alien to a sort of…minimum? Like, don’t grow tentacles or something without warning me first.”

Jared just rolled his eyes, and did the one thing he’d discovered pissed Jensen off without fail.

“Jared, put me the fuck down!”

“No,” Jared grinned, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flopped in his eyes as he bounded up the stairs towards Jensen’s bedroom. “I want to see your pants banana!”

“Oh my g-oof,” Jensen yelped as Jared dumped him on the bed. “It’s-” he panted, trying to remember how to breathe with Jared crawling up his body, “It’s pants popsicle or boxer-Jesus Christ, you could-Oh, you could do that some more.”

Jared let his hips roll again, just his hips, the rest of him blanketing Jensen in a hot, heavy weight, pinning him in place as Jared rutted coaxingly against him. Coaxingly. Like Jensen wasn’t rock hard and aching against Jared, like his eyes weren’t glazed and his mouth fucking slack already, God, what did Jared want? “What are you waiting for?” Jensen snapped, or tried to. It came out as a sort of breathless plea.

“You,” Jared smiled down at him, this glorious heart-stopping smile that crinkled his eyes at the corners. He leaned down and nuzzled him, lips brushing Jensen’s but not kissing even though Jensen arched his neck up, asking. The stretch of his throat snagged Jared’s attention and he pressed his face against it and inhaled.

Christ. Jensen shook, was shaking. Like this, Jared’s scent was everywhere, in everything he breathed, in every cell of his skin. Jared lifted his head and Jensen thought-

Jared’s pupils dilated so fast Jensen thought he was having a stroke, just as he felt the first bead of precome slide from his tip, dampening the boxers that were-“Whoa!”-suddenly not there, not there at all, were somewhere around his ankles and that, that was Jared’s face hovering just inches from him, breathing him in, soaking him in. Jared’s antennas were unfurled, rigidly curled towards him, eager but not touching. Jensen bit his lip and tried to remember how to breathe. He’d figured on the feelers, honestly. He had not figured his reaction to them.

“Jared,” he panted. Jared’s gaze snapped up, then back down, flush dark and hungry on his cheeks as he draped himself over Jensen’s legs and fit his hands into the grooves of Jensen’s hipbones, tilted his head, opened his mouth, and started at the base.

“Fuck!” Jared used his teeth. And in-oh God-the good, the best way, sliding the front of them from the middle to the edge of his shaft, lightest tease of sharpness as Jared let his lips part to slip his tongue through, easing the threat of hurt with hot, slick licks.

“Do you do a lot of this on your planet?” Jensen panted, doing his very best not to imagine Jared writhing in a sea of alien bodies. Jared lifted his head to smirk at him, then shook his head. Jensen let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and instantly sucked it back in as Jared ducked back down.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he stammered, tangling his fingers in Jared’s hair. If they could just keep talking he just might make it to the actual sex. “Wait. So.” Jared gave him a look under his bangs, and Jensen got a weird sort of trembling feeling in his stomach. “Have you done this at all?”

Jared blushed, finger tips trailing circles on Jensen’s hips. “Am I…wrong?”

“No, no, no,” Jensen chanted immediately. “No way. Not a thing wrong. Jesus.”

Jared took shameless advantage of Jensen’s dropping his head back on the bed to lick a slow, damp line from the base of Jensen’s cock to just under the head, holding him down as Jensen shuddered.

“Okay,” he blurted, nearly choking on his own tongue, “Okay, but. You learned somewhere, right? Please, please, please tell me Misha didn’t-“

“Misha showed me…spider webs.” It turned to spy dar wehbs in Jared’s mouth, and fuck, one of these days they were going to find out if Jared could talk Jensen all the way to an orgasm.

Focus. “Spider webs? Oh.” Oh, Jesus. Jensen swallowed, or tried to. “You went on the-“

Jared let out something like a snarl and sucked him into his mouth-apparently done with talking-and it was all Jensen could do to clutch the sheets and not fucking come. Jared’s mouth opened like a dream, gulping him down like he had never heard the concept of gag reflex, and Jensen was trembling so hard he could barely breathe. Couldn’t talk. He was so close, God, so close, he was going to, and then it’d be-

“Jared,” he begged, “Jared-Fuck, Jared, stop, stop, Jared-”

Jared lifted his head but didn’t let Jensen slip completely from his mouth, teeth caught just under the ridge of his head so light he could barely feel it, balanced on the curve of Jared’s tongue. He raised an eyebrow. Jensen had to remember what vowels were.

“This is going to be over,” he managed to gasp out, but only because his eyes were squeezed shut, “so fucking soon if you keep that up.”

Jared made a Point? sort of growl and swallowed him back down.

“JesusJesusJesus,” Jensen hissed, nearly crawling out of his skin the pleasure spiked so high. Jared’s throat constricted around the head and Jensen was reduced to high pitched whines that made Jared smile around Jensen’s cock.

Something in Jensen snapped. He jerked his legs out from under Jared and caught him under his arms, yanking him halfway up his body before Jared could so much as gasp. Jensen got a hand on the back of his neck, half t-shirt and half hair, and hauled him up by it, legs locking around Jared’s hips the instant he got his mouth on him. His nails raked Jared’s skin as he dragged the shirt off, earning himself a hiss and Jared’s wrecked panting.

Jared struggling out of his shorts was a remarkably human sight, the warmth pooling low in his belly distracting Jensen just enough that he was on his front with his wrists caught in one of Jared’s hands at the small of his back with no fucking clue how he got there. Then Jared used his free hand to spread Jensen’s cheeks, and he forgot why the hell that was ever a problem.

The first touch of Jared’s tongue wasn’t teasing, wasn’t meant to ease him into it. It was eating at him, slick curling flex of muscle as deep as Jared could get it, and the press of his fingers was trying to make that deeper. Jensen keened, lips pulled tight over his teeth as he tried to smother the noises into the comforter. God, fuck, this was. He didn’t, couldn’t. Jared dropped his wrists to hold Jensen open with both hands and Jensen’s nerves were so shot he didn’t even realize it. His hips rutted every helpless centimeter they could move.

One of the fingertips playing with his hole slipped in up to the knuckle, then all the way inside. Jensen went still. So still. That. That should have. He should have felt.

He dragged his head up an excruciating inch to look over his shoulder and see Jared licking the fingers of his spare hand. Only. Only the saliva looked thick, shiny. Jared caught him watching and gave him a dopey, horny version of a smirk before he turned his head to drag the flat of his tongue across the space where Jensen’s ass met the back of his thigh. He tried his best not to spontaneously combust when the saliva started to heat.

Holy shit, no wonder Mike was so fucking smug all the time.

Jensen spent what felt like fucking eternity trying to keep himself from flying apart at the seams as Jared licked him, stretched him, then licked him again. Jensen whispered a hundred million things into the sheets until words stopped making sense, until he was such a mess that he didn’t register that Jared was moving until his teeth sank into Jensen’s shoulder.

He yelped, bucked, swore, and Jared didn’t let go. Instead he arched his spine, canting his hips until the head of his cock pushed past the tight and thoroughly worked over ring of Jensen’s ass. Jensen gulped in noises, fighting the hand Jared had in the small of his back keeping him from bucking back and taking Jared all at once and then Jared was suddenly in, filling him up, surrounded in slick and heat and Jensen, fuck, Jensen felt like he should be crying it felt so good.

High, helpless whimpers spilled out of Jared’s mouth, and Jensen could feel the flick of Jared’s eyelashes against his skin as Jared’s eyes squeezed shut. Jensen dragged together just enough muscle coordination to reach back and press his fingers to the back of Jared’s skull, holding him there.

Jared let out a ragged, helpless cry and drove into Jensen, working a frantic hand between Jensen’s body and the sheets, the sound ricocheting down Jensen’s spine all the way to where Jared was thrusting into him, working him open. One brush of his fingertips and Jensen was gone, gone, devoured by a white-hot white-noise that tore through every inch of him except the pinpricks of Jared’s teeth on his skin.

Feeling Jared lose his rhythm and fight the contractions of Jensen’s body to pound into him, hearing the snarl muffled against his neck and feeling Jared spill into him, scorching hot and endlessly wet, dripping-it was like coming all over again.

It took ten of the top twenty best minutes of Jensen’s life before Jared moved, leaving Jensen’s ass and shoulder throbbing pleasantly with the beat of his heart. No more grace, Jared flopped on his side, then his back, eyes closed, blissful smile curling his reddened mouth. One of his feelers drifted over to brush Jensen’s cheek.

“You,” Jensen mumbled, when he’d rounded up enough brain cells to make words. He had more to say after that, he was sure, but that...seemed to sum it up.

“You,” Jared agreed, smiling at him like Hey there, and Yeah, and Love you. Then his eyebrow quirked, lips pursed in a dare. “Mate.”

“Mate,” Jensen said with his own arched brow, which in no way faltered when Jared’s hand skimmed down his back to dip in the crease of his ass.

So. Jared liked the voodoo. Good to know.

“I want,” Jared said, voice slow and syrup sweet, brushing their noses together as he grinned, “banana pancakes.”

Jensen could barely move, but arching an eyebrow was something worth accomplishing. “Pants banana pancakes?”

Jared shrugged-“Okay!”-and tackled him.



The End

...Except for the soundtrack, which is totally HERE. ;3