stripytights (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stripytights) wrote2012-10-29 01:26 am
stripytights) wrote2012-10-29 01:26 am
Entry tags:
Fic: No Choice in the Matter (JA/JP) NC-17 Chapter 2/6
Title: No Choice in the Matter
Fandom: Supernatural RPF
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Chapter: 2/5
Chapter Length: 4160 words
Pairing: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Warnings/kinks: hate-sex, A/B/O, dub-con, masturbation, fantasy
Summary: Sequel to Intolerable Cruelty. Bonded to someone he loathes, Jared has to navigate a path he never expected to follow, and to fight against something he has no choice in.
Chapter One here
He parked the car in the driveway, and hesitated as he got his keys out to open the door. All of a sudden he felt a peculiar reluctance to let Jensen in. This was his house, his space, something he’d worked for. Letting Jensen in felt like he was giving something personal away about himself, as though even the colours on the wall would reveal something essential about himself. It was a ridiculous thought and he shook it off as he pushed open the door, and headed straight for the kitchen. It was easily his favourite room in the house, and he could feel some of the tension start to leave his shoulders as he went for the kettle. “Something to drink?” he asked Jensen, the first words he’d addressed to him since they’d entered.
“Water thanks,” Jensen said, glancing round, eyes taking in the cork noticeboard with Jared’s appointments pinned up on it. Jared felt the colour flood to his cheeks when he saw the Dr’s appointment for Saturday prominently displayed, the yellow paper marking it out as a catch up at his endocrinologist. Not for the first time he silently bemoaned the cutesy habit that seemed to have caught on a few years ago and not yet run its course, of using different coloured papers for omegas.
Jared grabbed a bottle of still water from the fridge, a habit he’d gotten into while the pipes had been being fixed last year, and put it in front of Jensen, while he waited for the kettle to boil. “Careful of that chair,” he said, “it’s got a wobbly leg.” Part of him childishly wished he’d held his tongue and let Jensen inevitably crash down to the floor, but he was being adult and grown-up about this, and there was no point hurting the alpha’s pride just for the sake of it.
“Thanks,” said Jensen as though it’d been torn out of him, and shifted to a different chair. “I didn’t peg you for a tea-drinker.”
Jared slanted an amused look at him. “What did you think I drink?”
He got a shrug in reply, as though Jensen was already bored of the conversation, and he bit back his immediate annoyance, the tinge of dislike that was always present flaring a little higher. Why the fuck couldn’t Jensen just be polite? It wasn’t that difficult. Except of course Jensen was an alpha. Why would he pay attention to the sort of niceties omegas indulged in to pretend they had even a little bit of control? With more than necessary force he slammed the mug on the counter, and splashed the now boiling water in. The silence was awkward between them, as though there was nothing to be said, or at least no place to start.
Sitting down on the chair, Jared cupped his hands around his mug, taking some comfort from the warmth, and watched Jensen drink from the bottle, throat swallowing awkwardly, every long line of his body embodying discomfort. “Have you told anyone?” Jared asked suddenly, tired of waiting for Jensen to alpha the fuck up and talk.
“No.” Jensen left it there for a moment then continued. “I don’t think we should tell anyone yet. It’s too difficult to explain, there’s too many questions. I want to get those sorted, get our story straight before I tell work or my parents. It’s going to be difficult enough explaining why you.”
The casual dismissal struck Jared on the raw. “You’re not exactly what I was looking for either,” he said coldly, and had to restrain his temper when he saw Jensen raise an incredulous eyebrow, as though he thought this was something that Jared could ever have wanted. How arrogant could one person get?
“Really?” said Jensen, and the sneer on his face saturated his voice. “Looks to me like you’ve got everything you could want.” He gestured at Jared, “an alpha to take care of you, you don’t have to work anymore, you don’t have to do anything, except sit around the house and pop out children.”
Jared could have killed him there and then, left him bleeding out on the floor and not regretted it for a moment. Only shreds of common sense held him back (a long slow lingering and traumatic death for himself, with his last painful months spent in prison was not a consequence to be sniffed at) but it was a near thing and he had to turn away, couldn’t bear to look at the ridiculous man in front of him talking about things he’d never have to understand or live with. “Shut the fuck up,” he said and his voice for the first time showed the limits of his control. “I mean it, shut the fuck up or leave before I throw you out.”
Jensen stood, walked closer to him, and looked up, and even at this moment Jared found a source of humour in that. “Or what?” he breathed. “You’ll try and hit me?” There was a level of derision in his voice, and underneath it something painfully scared, as though this was all too futile even for him, and it brought Jared back to himself. As long as Jensen was scared too, as long as he hated this as much as Jared then all was not lost. Misery loves company after all. He relaxed his shoulders, let the tension seep out and looked away.
“Sit down Jensen,” he said quietly, and to his surprise the other man did just that. “We need to get some things straight. I don’t want children first of all.” He clenched his hands under the table and prayed like he’d never done before in his life. This was the sticking point, the crucial one. Jensen had a right to children under the law, had a right to demand professional mediation that would determine how long Jared could reasonably deny him them. This was the one point of law that would never change, could never change as long as new bodies were needed, the population had to keep stable after all.
“I’m fine with that,” Jensen replied promptly, devastatingly. “But you have to give me something in return. I want a free-pass.” Jared flushed. He hated Jensen, hated this entire sick, twisted set-up but that still hit him in the gut, in an instinctive place that screamed no at the very thought. Free-passes were given to alphas in unhappy relationships, as long as they were open about being bonded, they could fuck other people. Things had to be in an extremely bad state though. Even for someone who was practically psi-null in the same way that Jared was it carried an emotional price and a mental one, knowing that your mate was sleeping with someone else, choosing them over you, however glad you might be that they were doing so.
When he’d still been young and naive enough to imagine that he could change things, that protests and studies and surveys would be enough to alter the world and make it a fairer place, he’d casually brushed the idea of free-passes aside. In one way they freed omegas after all, prevented them from having to sleep with an alpha who didn’t want them but needed the release, shunted the responsibility onto someone else. So much as he thought about them at all, he’d only wished that omegas had that option as well, regretted a biology that caused such fierce jealousy in the alpha even when the mind didn’t care. Now though he understood why no-one, not even alphas wanted them. You had to be pretty far gone to demand it, and in this one thing the law was on the side of omegas. Fucking around outside of the bond had to be sanctioned.
But there was a price to everything, and if the price of being free to keep working, to keep independent, to have his own money, all the things he’d lose as soon as he had a child, was taking the pain of a free-pass bond then so be it. He nodded. “Fine, but I don’t want to hear about it and you never under any circumstances bring them back here.” As soon as he said that he regretted the words. It made it sound like he expected Jensen to move in here, when the usual course of events meant he’d have to move in with Jensen instead. To his surprise Jensen didn’t seem to pick up on that at all though, just sat there silent.
There were so many things they needed to talk about, so many things to discuss that the sheer weight of it pressed down on Jared like a giant stone on his back and clogging his throat. There was just too much, too many details, and Jensen was no help at all. Selfish, vicious Jensen, and stupid fucking Jared what a pair they made, he thought aware that he wasn’t being fair, not caring in the least. An inner voice that sounded like his mother’s, told him to stop being such a child, to bear up and take it like the rational human he’d always insisted that he was. Hard advice to take when you were faced with pretty alpha Jensen who’d told you straight that he didn’t even want to fuck you if he could help it, and who left an unexpected ache deep inside Jared that he didn’t know what to do with.
It was no longer unexpected, the sudden flip his stomach made when he got too close to Jensen but that didn’t mean it was wanted, not the sudden rush of warmth through him, or how the thoughts began to crowd his mind about how they shouldn’t even be talking, or thinking, not as early as this, they should be fucking instead. His mind happily and readily supplied him with images from their previous fucks, tailored and edited them, gave him the scenario of Jensen bending him over this kitchen table and fucking him hard until the New York Times he’d brought home to read was ruined, or of those full lips wrapped around his cock sucking him down deep until he lost himself in the warm wetness of Jensen’s mouth (his subconscious gave a snort at that one- fat chance, he knew Jensen’s type,) of him pushing Jensen down to the floor, holding him there, teasing him with his wet hole, promising to ride him but never taking him in until neither of them could bear it any longer and Jensen just fucked him, pulled him down and took what he wanted. The thoughts didn’t feel organic he noticed vaguely, didn’t feel like they came from him, more as though they were random scenes he’d generated in some odd fantasyland. That didn't prevent him from being moments away from maybe acting them out.
When the doorbell rang, they both flinched, shaken out of equally unpleasant thoughts. Jared excused himself and went to open, to find Andy standing there with an excited look on his face. The instant the door opened though the look vanished, and was replaced with a deeply troubled expression. Jared realised the animosity coming off him and Jensen must be upsetting to someone sensitive enough to sense it, and with a massive effort tried to dampen it down though he wasn’t sure if it worked. “I can come back later,” Andy said, already beginning to turn and leave, and suddenly desperate Jared clutched at his sleeve.
“No,” he said almost violently, then managed to moderate himself a little. “I mean, we’re not doing anything, do come in.” He let go of Andy’s jacket, ashamed of himself. Touching another Omega like that was rude at the best of times, and doubly worse with someone who was a little more psi-sensitive than the average. Holding the door opened, he ushered Andy in, then stopped in agitation before they reached the kitchen. It seemed his day to be making rude mistakes. “Actually it might be better if you went. Jensen’s here...” he let his words trail off.
Andy gave him a calm look. “He’s bonded to you,” he said reasonably. “Emma won’t mind that.” He said it with the surest confidence, and Jared wished he could imagine ever getting to the point where he could tell what Jensen Ackles would think on any given subject. Deciding not to protest he led the way back into the kitchen.
Andy didn’t shake hands but he did smile warmly, and Jensen smiled cautiously back, the surprisingly genuine smile sitting oddly on a face that had been angry so recently. He looked nicer with a smile, Jared noticed with a remoteness that surprised him a little bit. “I’m Andy, Jared’s neighbour. I just popped by to say hi really, but it’s nice to get a chance to meet you.”
Jensen stood up. “I was just about to go,” he said politely, “but it’s nice to meet you as well.” His eyes passed over Andy’s ornater than usual bonding bracelet, and the old fashioned collar under his t-shirt, and Jared could see him coming instantly to conclusions. No wonder he was being so polite, Andy was no threat to anyone, fitted perfectly into Jensen’s worldview. Andy ventured a little further into the room, and Jared was rocked by a sudden aggressive anger at Andy being too close to Jensen. He managed to squash it down, shocked by his over the top and out of character reaction. He didn’t believe for a second Andy of all people had any designs on Jensen, and wouldn’t care if he did, yet still the helpless fruitless rage swept through him, and he glimpsed for a moment the unbending power of the biological forces that underpinned their very society.
He turned away to hide his face not sure if he’d covered his reaction fast enough, hoping neither of them would remark on it, not listening to Andy re-assert his intention to leave, focusing only on putting the mugs into the dishwasher. He looked up to see the tail-end of a look passing between them and suddenly angry he wanted them out. As much as he’d wanted to screw Jensen just minutes before, had wanted to claim him as his, he now wanted him to leave to get the hell out and leave him alone, to stop making him feel like so helplessly and pathetically out of control.
There was an awkward pause at the door, the traditional parting kiss neither offered or asked for, the air thick with tension, and then Jensen was gone, leaving Jared to fight the urge to sag down on a chair and just rest. When he turned away from the door, from watching Jensen leave, Andy was looking at him with watchful eyes that struck Jared on the raw, let him know that right now he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to have to tell Andy about this, about what a fucking screw-up this whole situation was.
Andy, bless him sensed that though which way Jared didn’t know. “Now isn’t a good time,” he said calmly, and it wasn’t a question. “Come and see me when you feel up to it.” Like a lithe shadow he slipped round the door, and Jared called out after him.
“Thank you again for the suit.” He saw Andy’s hand raised in acknowledgement, and then finally he was alone in the house. The kitchen felt alien and unfamiliar around him suddenly, bleak and featureless as though it had been ten years since he’d been here, instead of ten hours. This time last night he’d stumbled in, Jensen’s come and his own slick soaking through his boxers, and showered more times than he’d thought he could bear, until his skin was red raw and sensitive and he smelled like himself again. Again the yellow paper of his doctor’s appointment caught his eye and he sighed. Best to get that shifted and done with, leave himself time to think about what the hell he was going to do about the Mirrorlake business.
It took twenty frustrating minutes on the phone to get through to his doctor and explain that yes this was an emergency, he needed his appointment moved forward considerably, no it couldn’t be dealt with at hospital or by a nurse, that he’s bonded, his needs have changed substantially and that primary care is urgent. He’s still not sure if the urgency has sank in, but then to the doctor this is usual he guesses. Bonded. Finally he gets them to agree to a Friday afternoon appointment, half an hour after the meeting finishes. He’ll have to rush, make his excuses and be gone, no way he can let it overrun. He needs a second opinion and fast.
If it was anyone else missing an appointment would be bad but not terrible, but he needs to see Dr Watary specifically. As one of the only doctors in town whose charter guaranteed medical privacy to omegas she was so much in demand it was unreal. She still didn’t make the kind of money other doctors did from selling on their patient’s sexual records though. Sexual history, health, insurance coverage, fertility, even prescription information, a few hundred dollars and a sob-story about needing to make sure before you got bonded and it was in the hands of whoever wanted it. And if you got caught? A slap on the wrist from a judge, and a reminder that that information was personal for a reason.
His hands were cold as he put down on the phone, and he pressed it to his face for a moment, covering his eyes. Doctors, lawyers, his family. It had never seemed like a dream to him, all too uncomfortably real, the scenario was one he’d dreaded since he’d undergone the change and realised what he was. He’d been so late even by the ever-lengthening age of puberty, his parents had been so hopeful that he was exactly what he seemed like, an unassuming beta, already making plans for him, because there wasn’t anything wrong with being an omega, as his omega-mother had told him earnestly. It just made life different. The unspoken undercurrent had been there.
When he’d hit fifteen and still no signs they’d begun to relax, started to make plans for college. Then one and a half months before his sixteenth birthday, it’d happened, he’d woken in the throes of first heat, had had to take the shame of being rushed to hospital, half dressed in his pajama bottoms because it’d been so violent. He wasn’t even one of the unusual ones, not anymore. Puberty had been getting later and later since the turn of the century. Where once your status was cleared by twelve, now the general trend was to fourteen or fifteen. That hadn’t made it any easier though, held down by doctors to take his readings, sharp and painful tests, and when the grim faced nurse who’d given him the medical facts, explained to him what to do in heats where he didn’t have a partner, told him his duty to his family, himself and society was to find someone as quickly as possible and bond with them, he’d known at that moment with a cold certainty that there was nothing he’d wanted less in the world.
He was still wet from earlier from prolonged exposure to Jensen, and he shifted uncomfortably, that was another question to ask the doctor. He couldn’t stand the visceral sensation of his body’s reaction. There must be a way to stop it from happening when he got too close to Jensen, he couldn’t live his life permanently on the edge of arousal when he got too close to the person he was supposed to be working with. Though really that couldn’t be too common a problem. Most people didn’t work that closely with each other. The itch under his skin was stronger now, prickles of arousal flaring up and he sat down on the sofa and tried to ignore it. His cock was half hard against his thigh, and no matter how many channels he flicked through nothing seemed to dampen his excitement, his hole still remembered the solid weight of Jensen in it, his dick the rough touch of Jensen’s hands, his body the intangible scent of his mate and of possession, and with a silent sigh he gave the Discovery channel up for lost and made his way upstairs.
In a drawer under the bed lived the lube, and the three toys that were his one concession to being in heat. He’d never used them outside of heat before, preferring his own hand and the assistance of his fingers when he couldn’t help it anymore. Now flopping back on the bed, he kicked off his pants and boxers and picked up the innocuous white vibrating dildo and hefted it automatically, gauging the weight. When he was in heat all he wanted was more, more dick, more clit, more fingers, more kisses, and even toys couldn’t give you that which is why he’d never seen the point of them much. This was different now. If he was going to feel like this around Jensen all the time, he needed something to take the edge of it off.
He’d noticed an upswing in his self-lubrication since the bond, knew his body was changing, preparing itself for his mate, where before it had only been during heats, now all he had to do was be too near to Jensen for too long. Lying like this now though it’d stopped and with a muffled sigh he squeezed a splash of lube onto his hand, rubbed his fingers together to warm it, then with almost no care slid two fingers in, not bothering with play, wanting to get off as hard and fast as possible, wear himself out so he could sleep tonight. His dick was already hard, and absently he palmed it, enjoying the sensation. He tried to clear his mind of all thoughts, focus on nothing but how this felt, but despite his best efforts Jensen insisted on appearing.
Once again his traitorous body betrayed him, he could feel himself growing harder when he imagined Jensen’s hands trailing over his body, strong certain fingers digging in deep making him relax, and he shuddered, nipples tightening and darkening in the cool air of the room, hips lifting a little upward. With a sense of disloyalty to himself he let it happen. This was what a bond was supposed to be like. You were supposed to fantasise about your partner, supposed to dream about how they felt next to you, how every inch of their body matched yours, could wring the maximum amount of pleasure from you. Supposed to enjoy it when they fucked you slowly and deeply and made you feel every inch. Without noticing it his hand had sped up, his fingers had pushed deeper, opened him wider until he was fucking himself awkwardly against them, the angle completely wrong but it felt so good he didn’t care.
His mind was full now, full of the scenario the way it should have been, long slow kisses that took your breath away, left you gasping and dizzied and desperate for more, experienced careful hands that touched you like you were something precious, not fragile just exceptional, someone you could touch back, feel the smooth glide of skin, bite the delicate skin of the neck, kiss back with everything that you felt, before you fucked yourself down, felt yourself shake with the force of it, with the knowledge of love and want. Dimly even as he gasped, felt himself contract on his fingers, a shudder of painful pleasure running through him, as his hand gripped his dick tightly, he knew that was exactly what this was. A fantasy, and a stupid destructive one at that, the sort a sixteen year old had when they were too young to know better, and too ignorant to be sensible. As he came, come spilling over his fingertips, his hole shuddering as though desperate for something bigger, even the orgasm felt dirtied, sullied somehow by his thoughts, the pleasure and relief over too fast, replaced by a gnawing sense of disgust and unhappiness as though reaching for the impossible, had just made the situation all the worse. He tucked the unused vibrator and the bottle of lube back away, lay there damp and tired, with moisture on his face that could have been sweat or tears.
When he roused himself to get up and shower, the same hopeless lethargy overcame him, made him want to curl up in his bed and go back to sleep. Twenty four hours he acknowledged to himself. It had taken them twenty four hours to get to this.
Chapter Three
Fandom: Supernatural RPF
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Chapter: 2/5
Chapter Length: 4160 words
Pairing: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Warnings/kinks: hate-sex, A/B/O, dub-con, masturbation, fantasy
Summary: Sequel to Intolerable Cruelty. Bonded to someone he loathes, Jared has to navigate a path he never expected to follow, and to fight against something he has no choice in.
Chapter One here
He parked the car in the driveway, and hesitated as he got his keys out to open the door. All of a sudden he felt a peculiar reluctance to let Jensen in. This was his house, his space, something he’d worked for. Letting Jensen in felt like he was giving something personal away about himself, as though even the colours on the wall would reveal something essential about himself. It was a ridiculous thought and he shook it off as he pushed open the door, and headed straight for the kitchen. It was easily his favourite room in the house, and he could feel some of the tension start to leave his shoulders as he went for the kettle. “Something to drink?” he asked Jensen, the first words he’d addressed to him since they’d entered.
“Water thanks,” Jensen said, glancing round, eyes taking in the cork noticeboard with Jared’s appointments pinned up on it. Jared felt the colour flood to his cheeks when he saw the Dr’s appointment for Saturday prominently displayed, the yellow paper marking it out as a catch up at his endocrinologist. Not for the first time he silently bemoaned the cutesy habit that seemed to have caught on a few years ago and not yet run its course, of using different coloured papers for omegas.
Jared grabbed a bottle of still water from the fridge, a habit he’d gotten into while the pipes had been being fixed last year, and put it in front of Jensen, while he waited for the kettle to boil. “Careful of that chair,” he said, “it’s got a wobbly leg.” Part of him childishly wished he’d held his tongue and let Jensen inevitably crash down to the floor, but he was being adult and grown-up about this, and there was no point hurting the alpha’s pride just for the sake of it.
“Thanks,” said Jensen as though it’d been torn out of him, and shifted to a different chair. “I didn’t peg you for a tea-drinker.”
Jared slanted an amused look at him. “What did you think I drink?”
He got a shrug in reply, as though Jensen was already bored of the conversation, and he bit back his immediate annoyance, the tinge of dislike that was always present flaring a little higher. Why the fuck couldn’t Jensen just be polite? It wasn’t that difficult. Except of course Jensen was an alpha. Why would he pay attention to the sort of niceties omegas indulged in to pretend they had even a little bit of control? With more than necessary force he slammed the mug on the counter, and splashed the now boiling water in. The silence was awkward between them, as though there was nothing to be said, or at least no place to start.
Sitting down on the chair, Jared cupped his hands around his mug, taking some comfort from the warmth, and watched Jensen drink from the bottle, throat swallowing awkwardly, every long line of his body embodying discomfort. “Have you told anyone?” Jared asked suddenly, tired of waiting for Jensen to alpha the fuck up and talk.
“No.” Jensen left it there for a moment then continued. “I don’t think we should tell anyone yet. It’s too difficult to explain, there’s too many questions. I want to get those sorted, get our story straight before I tell work or my parents. It’s going to be difficult enough explaining why you.”
The casual dismissal struck Jared on the raw. “You’re not exactly what I was looking for either,” he said coldly, and had to restrain his temper when he saw Jensen raise an incredulous eyebrow, as though he thought this was something that Jared could ever have wanted. How arrogant could one person get?
“Really?” said Jensen, and the sneer on his face saturated his voice. “Looks to me like you’ve got everything you could want.” He gestured at Jared, “an alpha to take care of you, you don’t have to work anymore, you don’t have to do anything, except sit around the house and pop out children.”
Jared could have killed him there and then, left him bleeding out on the floor and not regretted it for a moment. Only shreds of common sense held him back (a long slow lingering and traumatic death for himself, with his last painful months spent in prison was not a consequence to be sniffed at) but it was a near thing and he had to turn away, couldn’t bear to look at the ridiculous man in front of him talking about things he’d never have to understand or live with. “Shut the fuck up,” he said and his voice for the first time showed the limits of his control. “I mean it, shut the fuck up or leave before I throw you out.”
Jensen stood, walked closer to him, and looked up, and even at this moment Jared found a source of humour in that. “Or what?” he breathed. “You’ll try and hit me?” There was a level of derision in his voice, and underneath it something painfully scared, as though this was all too futile even for him, and it brought Jared back to himself. As long as Jensen was scared too, as long as he hated this as much as Jared then all was not lost. Misery loves company after all. He relaxed his shoulders, let the tension seep out and looked away.
“Sit down Jensen,” he said quietly, and to his surprise the other man did just that. “We need to get some things straight. I don’t want children first of all.” He clenched his hands under the table and prayed like he’d never done before in his life. This was the sticking point, the crucial one. Jensen had a right to children under the law, had a right to demand professional mediation that would determine how long Jared could reasonably deny him them. This was the one point of law that would never change, could never change as long as new bodies were needed, the population had to keep stable after all.
“I’m fine with that,” Jensen replied promptly, devastatingly. “But you have to give me something in return. I want a free-pass.” Jared flushed. He hated Jensen, hated this entire sick, twisted set-up but that still hit him in the gut, in an instinctive place that screamed no at the very thought. Free-passes were given to alphas in unhappy relationships, as long as they were open about being bonded, they could fuck other people. Things had to be in an extremely bad state though. Even for someone who was practically psi-null in the same way that Jared was it carried an emotional price and a mental one, knowing that your mate was sleeping with someone else, choosing them over you, however glad you might be that they were doing so.
When he’d still been young and naive enough to imagine that he could change things, that protests and studies and surveys would be enough to alter the world and make it a fairer place, he’d casually brushed the idea of free-passes aside. In one way they freed omegas after all, prevented them from having to sleep with an alpha who didn’t want them but needed the release, shunted the responsibility onto someone else. So much as he thought about them at all, he’d only wished that omegas had that option as well, regretted a biology that caused such fierce jealousy in the alpha even when the mind didn’t care. Now though he understood why no-one, not even alphas wanted them. You had to be pretty far gone to demand it, and in this one thing the law was on the side of omegas. Fucking around outside of the bond had to be sanctioned.
But there was a price to everything, and if the price of being free to keep working, to keep independent, to have his own money, all the things he’d lose as soon as he had a child, was taking the pain of a free-pass bond then so be it. He nodded. “Fine, but I don’t want to hear about it and you never under any circumstances bring them back here.” As soon as he said that he regretted the words. It made it sound like he expected Jensen to move in here, when the usual course of events meant he’d have to move in with Jensen instead. To his surprise Jensen didn’t seem to pick up on that at all though, just sat there silent.
There were so many things they needed to talk about, so many things to discuss that the sheer weight of it pressed down on Jared like a giant stone on his back and clogging his throat. There was just too much, too many details, and Jensen was no help at all. Selfish, vicious Jensen, and stupid fucking Jared what a pair they made, he thought aware that he wasn’t being fair, not caring in the least. An inner voice that sounded like his mother’s, told him to stop being such a child, to bear up and take it like the rational human he’d always insisted that he was. Hard advice to take when you were faced with pretty alpha Jensen who’d told you straight that he didn’t even want to fuck you if he could help it, and who left an unexpected ache deep inside Jared that he didn’t know what to do with.
It was no longer unexpected, the sudden flip his stomach made when he got too close to Jensen but that didn’t mean it was wanted, not the sudden rush of warmth through him, or how the thoughts began to crowd his mind about how they shouldn’t even be talking, or thinking, not as early as this, they should be fucking instead. His mind happily and readily supplied him with images from their previous fucks, tailored and edited them, gave him the scenario of Jensen bending him over this kitchen table and fucking him hard until the New York Times he’d brought home to read was ruined, or of those full lips wrapped around his cock sucking him down deep until he lost himself in the warm wetness of Jensen’s mouth (his subconscious gave a snort at that one- fat chance, he knew Jensen’s type,) of him pushing Jensen down to the floor, holding him there, teasing him with his wet hole, promising to ride him but never taking him in until neither of them could bear it any longer and Jensen just fucked him, pulled him down and took what he wanted. The thoughts didn’t feel organic he noticed vaguely, didn’t feel like they came from him, more as though they were random scenes he’d generated in some odd fantasyland. That didn't prevent him from being moments away from maybe acting them out.
When the doorbell rang, they both flinched, shaken out of equally unpleasant thoughts. Jared excused himself and went to open, to find Andy standing there with an excited look on his face. The instant the door opened though the look vanished, and was replaced with a deeply troubled expression. Jared realised the animosity coming off him and Jensen must be upsetting to someone sensitive enough to sense it, and with a massive effort tried to dampen it down though he wasn’t sure if it worked. “I can come back later,” Andy said, already beginning to turn and leave, and suddenly desperate Jared clutched at his sleeve.
“No,” he said almost violently, then managed to moderate himself a little. “I mean, we’re not doing anything, do come in.” He let go of Andy’s jacket, ashamed of himself. Touching another Omega like that was rude at the best of times, and doubly worse with someone who was a little more psi-sensitive than the average. Holding the door opened, he ushered Andy in, then stopped in agitation before they reached the kitchen. It seemed his day to be making rude mistakes. “Actually it might be better if you went. Jensen’s here...” he let his words trail off.
Andy gave him a calm look. “He’s bonded to you,” he said reasonably. “Emma won’t mind that.” He said it with the surest confidence, and Jared wished he could imagine ever getting to the point where he could tell what Jensen Ackles would think on any given subject. Deciding not to protest he led the way back into the kitchen.
Andy didn’t shake hands but he did smile warmly, and Jensen smiled cautiously back, the surprisingly genuine smile sitting oddly on a face that had been angry so recently. He looked nicer with a smile, Jared noticed with a remoteness that surprised him a little bit. “I’m Andy, Jared’s neighbour. I just popped by to say hi really, but it’s nice to get a chance to meet you.”
Jensen stood up. “I was just about to go,” he said politely, “but it’s nice to meet you as well.” His eyes passed over Andy’s ornater than usual bonding bracelet, and the old fashioned collar under his t-shirt, and Jared could see him coming instantly to conclusions. No wonder he was being so polite, Andy was no threat to anyone, fitted perfectly into Jensen’s worldview. Andy ventured a little further into the room, and Jared was rocked by a sudden aggressive anger at Andy being too close to Jensen. He managed to squash it down, shocked by his over the top and out of character reaction. He didn’t believe for a second Andy of all people had any designs on Jensen, and wouldn’t care if he did, yet still the helpless fruitless rage swept through him, and he glimpsed for a moment the unbending power of the biological forces that underpinned their very society.
He turned away to hide his face not sure if he’d covered his reaction fast enough, hoping neither of them would remark on it, not listening to Andy re-assert his intention to leave, focusing only on putting the mugs into the dishwasher. He looked up to see the tail-end of a look passing between them and suddenly angry he wanted them out. As much as he’d wanted to screw Jensen just minutes before, had wanted to claim him as his, he now wanted him to leave to get the hell out and leave him alone, to stop making him feel like so helplessly and pathetically out of control.
There was an awkward pause at the door, the traditional parting kiss neither offered or asked for, the air thick with tension, and then Jensen was gone, leaving Jared to fight the urge to sag down on a chair and just rest. When he turned away from the door, from watching Jensen leave, Andy was looking at him with watchful eyes that struck Jared on the raw, let him know that right now he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to have to tell Andy about this, about what a fucking screw-up this whole situation was.
Andy, bless him sensed that though which way Jared didn’t know. “Now isn’t a good time,” he said calmly, and it wasn’t a question. “Come and see me when you feel up to it.” Like a lithe shadow he slipped round the door, and Jared called out after him.
“Thank you again for the suit.” He saw Andy’s hand raised in acknowledgement, and then finally he was alone in the house. The kitchen felt alien and unfamiliar around him suddenly, bleak and featureless as though it had been ten years since he’d been here, instead of ten hours. This time last night he’d stumbled in, Jensen’s come and his own slick soaking through his boxers, and showered more times than he’d thought he could bear, until his skin was red raw and sensitive and he smelled like himself again. Again the yellow paper of his doctor’s appointment caught his eye and he sighed. Best to get that shifted and done with, leave himself time to think about what the hell he was going to do about the Mirrorlake business.
It took twenty frustrating minutes on the phone to get through to his doctor and explain that yes this was an emergency, he needed his appointment moved forward considerably, no it couldn’t be dealt with at hospital or by a nurse, that he’s bonded, his needs have changed substantially and that primary care is urgent. He’s still not sure if the urgency has sank in, but then to the doctor this is usual he guesses. Bonded. Finally he gets them to agree to a Friday afternoon appointment, half an hour after the meeting finishes. He’ll have to rush, make his excuses and be gone, no way he can let it overrun. He needs a second opinion and fast.
If it was anyone else missing an appointment would be bad but not terrible, but he needs to see Dr Watary specifically. As one of the only doctors in town whose charter guaranteed medical privacy to omegas she was so much in demand it was unreal. She still didn’t make the kind of money other doctors did from selling on their patient’s sexual records though. Sexual history, health, insurance coverage, fertility, even prescription information, a few hundred dollars and a sob-story about needing to make sure before you got bonded and it was in the hands of whoever wanted it. And if you got caught? A slap on the wrist from a judge, and a reminder that that information was personal for a reason.
His hands were cold as he put down on the phone, and he pressed it to his face for a moment, covering his eyes. Doctors, lawyers, his family. It had never seemed like a dream to him, all too uncomfortably real, the scenario was one he’d dreaded since he’d undergone the change and realised what he was. He’d been so late even by the ever-lengthening age of puberty, his parents had been so hopeful that he was exactly what he seemed like, an unassuming beta, already making plans for him, because there wasn’t anything wrong with being an omega, as his omega-mother had told him earnestly. It just made life different. The unspoken undercurrent had been there.
When he’d hit fifteen and still no signs they’d begun to relax, started to make plans for college. Then one and a half months before his sixteenth birthday, it’d happened, he’d woken in the throes of first heat, had had to take the shame of being rushed to hospital, half dressed in his pajama bottoms because it’d been so violent. He wasn’t even one of the unusual ones, not anymore. Puberty had been getting later and later since the turn of the century. Where once your status was cleared by twelve, now the general trend was to fourteen or fifteen. That hadn’t made it any easier though, held down by doctors to take his readings, sharp and painful tests, and when the grim faced nurse who’d given him the medical facts, explained to him what to do in heats where he didn’t have a partner, told him his duty to his family, himself and society was to find someone as quickly as possible and bond with them, he’d known at that moment with a cold certainty that there was nothing he’d wanted less in the world.
He was still wet from earlier from prolonged exposure to Jensen, and he shifted uncomfortably, that was another question to ask the doctor. He couldn’t stand the visceral sensation of his body’s reaction. There must be a way to stop it from happening when he got too close to Jensen, he couldn’t live his life permanently on the edge of arousal when he got too close to the person he was supposed to be working with. Though really that couldn’t be too common a problem. Most people didn’t work that closely with each other. The itch under his skin was stronger now, prickles of arousal flaring up and he sat down on the sofa and tried to ignore it. His cock was half hard against his thigh, and no matter how many channels he flicked through nothing seemed to dampen his excitement, his hole still remembered the solid weight of Jensen in it, his dick the rough touch of Jensen’s hands, his body the intangible scent of his mate and of possession, and with a silent sigh he gave the Discovery channel up for lost and made his way upstairs.
In a drawer under the bed lived the lube, and the three toys that were his one concession to being in heat. He’d never used them outside of heat before, preferring his own hand and the assistance of his fingers when he couldn’t help it anymore. Now flopping back on the bed, he kicked off his pants and boxers and picked up the innocuous white vibrating dildo and hefted it automatically, gauging the weight. When he was in heat all he wanted was more, more dick, more clit, more fingers, more kisses, and even toys couldn’t give you that which is why he’d never seen the point of them much. This was different now. If he was going to feel like this around Jensen all the time, he needed something to take the edge of it off.
He’d noticed an upswing in his self-lubrication since the bond, knew his body was changing, preparing itself for his mate, where before it had only been during heats, now all he had to do was be too near to Jensen for too long. Lying like this now though it’d stopped and with a muffled sigh he squeezed a splash of lube onto his hand, rubbed his fingers together to warm it, then with almost no care slid two fingers in, not bothering with play, wanting to get off as hard and fast as possible, wear himself out so he could sleep tonight. His dick was already hard, and absently he palmed it, enjoying the sensation. He tried to clear his mind of all thoughts, focus on nothing but how this felt, but despite his best efforts Jensen insisted on appearing.
Once again his traitorous body betrayed him, he could feel himself growing harder when he imagined Jensen’s hands trailing over his body, strong certain fingers digging in deep making him relax, and he shuddered, nipples tightening and darkening in the cool air of the room, hips lifting a little upward. With a sense of disloyalty to himself he let it happen. This was what a bond was supposed to be like. You were supposed to fantasise about your partner, supposed to dream about how they felt next to you, how every inch of their body matched yours, could wring the maximum amount of pleasure from you. Supposed to enjoy it when they fucked you slowly and deeply and made you feel every inch. Without noticing it his hand had sped up, his fingers had pushed deeper, opened him wider until he was fucking himself awkwardly against them, the angle completely wrong but it felt so good he didn’t care.
His mind was full now, full of the scenario the way it should have been, long slow kisses that took your breath away, left you gasping and dizzied and desperate for more, experienced careful hands that touched you like you were something precious, not fragile just exceptional, someone you could touch back, feel the smooth glide of skin, bite the delicate skin of the neck, kiss back with everything that you felt, before you fucked yourself down, felt yourself shake with the force of it, with the knowledge of love and want. Dimly even as he gasped, felt himself contract on his fingers, a shudder of painful pleasure running through him, as his hand gripped his dick tightly, he knew that was exactly what this was. A fantasy, and a stupid destructive one at that, the sort a sixteen year old had when they were too young to know better, and too ignorant to be sensible. As he came, come spilling over his fingertips, his hole shuddering as though desperate for something bigger, even the orgasm felt dirtied, sullied somehow by his thoughts, the pleasure and relief over too fast, replaced by a gnawing sense of disgust and unhappiness as though reaching for the impossible, had just made the situation all the worse. He tucked the unused vibrator and the bottle of lube back away, lay there damp and tired, with moisture on his face that could have been sweat or tears.
When he roused himself to get up and shower, the same hopeless lethargy overcame him, made him want to curl up in his bed and go back to sleep. Twenty four hours he acknowledged to himself. It had taken them twenty four hours to get to this.
Chapter Three