The woods are lovely, dark and deep. Yeah, Jensen thinks sourly, sure they're all that but they're also fricking cold, especially when you've been stripped down to nothing but your tighty whities. And why did he choose today of all days to wear tighty whities. Yeah, they’re comfortable, cradling his crotch in soft cotton, but he might have felt slightly less humiliated if he was wearing a nice loose pair of boxers. He wouldn’t be any warmer though. His goosebumps are developing goosebumps, his nose is burning with the cold, and he suspects that if he could see the tips of his toes they'd be turning blue. And while that's worrying, his toes dropping off is not his biggest concern right now. "You do realize I'm not a virgin, right?" He says to the guy currently tying him to a tree.
"Jenny, you totally are." The guy tugs the rope coiled around Jensen's wrists tighter, ignoring Jensen's pained yelp.
"Dude, I'm nineteen. Nobody's a virgin at nineteen." Jensen scoffs.
"Apart from faggots that never went further than kissing a girl before figuring out they were more interested in cock than pussy. Faggots that decided to wait for Mr. Right to pop their ass cherry." Even without seeing the guy, Jensen can tell that the dickhead is smirking.
"I've slept with people," Jensen bluffs, probably badly, he's shitty at poker. "I've slept with loads of people. I'll prove it. I'll...I'll..." - how the hell do you prove you're not a virgin - "I'll sleep with any of you....right now." Jensen cringes as the words leave his mouth. He'd hit himself in his stupid face if his hands weren't tied up.
The guy chuckles and gives the rope around Jensen's wrists one final brutal tug before walking back around the tree and crouching down so they're face to face. Well, face to creepy mask. The full moon casts enough light to illuminate the bizarre were-wolf like masks that his captor and all his dumb-ass friends are wearing, hiding the entire top half of their faces. "Don't you worry," He says. "By the time the night’s over we’ll all have had a piece of your virgin ass."
"I'm not a god-damn virgin," Jensen spits, fear taking a real hold, especially now that masked asshole's buddies have managed to get the fire going, and are passing around bottles of liquor.
"Jenny, give it up; we know all about you. Weatherly blabbed to everyone about your ass being virgin tight and off limits. Said you wouldn't even blow him. And let me tell you, that really pissed our boy off; those cock-sucking lips of yours going to waste like that. Yeah, when we told him we needed a virgin to complete the ritual, your name was top of the list."
"Fucking Weatherly," Jensen huffs. The guy had been all smiles and easy charm right up until Jensen had dragged his sweaty palm out the back of Jensen’s pants and said, very succinctly and clearly, no. He'd pushed and pushed until Jensen had told him the truth. Fucking idiot, Jensen should have just told him he didn't sleep with arrogant douches with rotten breath.
"Okay, Jenny, just you chill out here for a while. We've got some drinking to do, an invocation to recite, and a chicken to decapitate before we reach your part of the show." Masked guy, who Jensen strongly suspects is one of Weatherly's fellow douche-nozzle frat brothers, pats Jensen's cheek before pushing himself up and walking away. There's a cheer from his buddies and a bottle thrown in his direction when he joins them by the fire.
The heat of the flames doesn't quite reach Jensen and with his ass on the damp ground he's growing colder by the second. He clenches his jaw tight, trying to stop his teeth from chattering and watches the guys drink and joke, jumping around like they're at a normal party, and not about to perform a dark magic ritual, kill a chicken and rape a virgin. Hell, as far as Jensen knows that is the norm when it comes to frat parties.
He tries to ignore the catcalls thrown his way. The lewd hand gestures and taunting comments about his girly cock sucking lips and tight ass. The raucous laughter when one scumbag wanders over, takes his dick out of his pants and pisses at Jensen's feet. Yeah, that shit's just fucking hilarious.
As much as he doesn't want to get to the part of the evening when he's expected to participate, Jensen half-wishes they'd just get on with it. His shoulders ache with the way his arms are pulled behind him, the cracked bark of the tree trunk is digging into his back, scraping and gouging his skin, and hypothermia is surely imminent. Besides, if they're going to fuck him, they're going to have to untie him. If they untie him then Jensen has half a chance of making a run for it. Half a chance is better than this.
The laughter around the fire gradually dies away, the atmosphere turning as dark and oppressive as the woods surrounding them. One of the guys digs through a backpack and produces a large leather-bound book; someone else passes him a flashlight. He flips through the pages before he finds what he's looking for and starts to read, his voice ringing out clear through night.
As he reads the other men gather around to listen. Then one by one they join in and the chanting begins. Latin words weave through the air, a steady cadence that seems to seep through Jensen's skin, pulse through his blood. He doesn't understand it all, but certain words stand out; Lupus, mutatio, deus, luna, hostiam viventem. Jensen is far from fluent in Latin, but even he can tell that if doesn't get away from these psychos he's going to be in some deep shit. The chanting grows louder, the tempo rising, building to a crescendo. The wind gathers speed, whipping through the tree branches, blowing up the dried leaves and swirling them around Jensen's feet.
Jensen watches dried mouth, as a scrawny chicken, dazed and half dead looking already, is produced from a sack, at the same time as a machete appears in the hands of one masked guy. The panic that he'd been controlling pretty well all this time begins to bubble up, his chest growing tight and breathing harsher. He doesn't want to watch what is inevitably about to happen, but finds it impossible to drag his eyes away. The guy with the machete doesn't even hesitate, just swings once and slices the head clean off the chicken's body. Jensen thinks he might puke. The chanting which had reached a manic peak dies abruptly with the chicken. And all of a sudden the only thing Jensen can hear is the pounding of his racing heartbeat in his ears.
Until a wolf howls.
Jensen has heard the call of wolves before. They're not uncommon in this area. But they've always been a distant concept; an invisible predator that prowls the wilderness miles from where Jensen cares to venture. This howl is not some far off warning however. This howl sounds as though it's coming from the tangle of trees at the other side of the fire.
If Jensen was afraid before, he's pant-wettingly terrified now. What makes no sense though, is why he seems to be the only one who is. It's like no-one else heard the howl, or more like they were expecting it. Moving as one, the seven men around the fire turn in Jensen's direction, their masks eerily life-like in the shifting glow cast by the flames and the moonlight filtering through the trees. They stalk towards him, surrounding him like a pack of jackals. Jensen can do nothing, other than ponder the pros and cons of being attacked by wolves versus being gang-raped by a bunch of criminally insane frat boys. Wolves he decides, looking at the snarling animals in front of him, seem the preferable option.
From the corner of his eye Jensen catches something glinting in the moonlight. He barely has time to register that it’s the bloodied blade of the machete being raised, before one of the psychos hacks his wrists free. Jensen tries not to think about how sharp the blade must be to cut through hemp rope like it's string.
"Now, Jenny." One of the assholes sneers, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and throwing him face down on the ground. "It's time for the fun to really begin. Who wants first go boys?"
"Fuck you!" Jensen spits, trying to scrabble away on his hands and knees because damn if his legs haven't fallen asleep.
"Nah," one creep laughs, unbuckling his belt. "You ain't fucking anyone, fag."
A hand grabs Jensen’s leg, meaty fingers wrapping around his ankle and yanking him backwards. Another howl rents the air. And this time, the wolf sounds, well - as ridiculous as it sounds - Jensen's immediate thought is that the wolf sounds pissed. There's no time to dwell on it though because the angry howl doesn't give the guys surrounding him even a second’s hesitation. Hands are all over him. Clawing at his skin, dragging him across the ground, twisting him face up and tugging at his underwear.
Jensen isn't that easy though, and he sure isn't giving in without a fight. As the blood returns to his limbs and adrenaline kicks in, he lashes out at anything and anyone he can reach. He kicks out like a wild thing, thrashing and bucking, making himself a moving, infuriatingly uncooperative target. Lips split under his fists, teeth breaking through the tight skin of his knuckles, while his knees and elbows smash into ribs and guts. Jensen's sure that underneath his mask, one guy's nose is a bloody mess and a vindictive surge of satisfaction floods through him when someone crumples with a breathless oomph after Jensen's knee slams into his balls.
"Little bastard." Someone grunts, back handing Jensen's cheek. "You fight like a fucking teenage girl."
Jensen can't argue with that, not when he's just bitten a chunk out of whoever had the misfortune to have his arm too close to Jensen’s mouth. Teenage girls are pretty fierce though; Jensen certainly wouldn't want to mess with one.
"Lie the fuck still. Grab his goddamn arms." One guy yells out orders trying to regain control of the situation. Unfortunately once they start working together Jensen is soon pinned down. His chest heaves as he stares up defiantly.
"We're gonna rip you apart fag." The guy who's decided he's in charge snarls down at him. "Gonna make you scream. Gonna fuck you until you're broken, until your ass is bust wide open and your pretty lips are torn up."
"Dude, the ritual." Someone else pants.
A guy who's mask is ripped and hanging half off his face chimes in. "Fug de fuggin ridual, de asshole bust ma fuggin dose."
Jensen laughs despite himself. He doesn't even regret doing it when a boot slams into his gut and the air rushes straight out of his lungs leaving him wheezing.
"No, Stevo's right," Another brainiac says. "We did all this for a reason. We need to finish the ritual. Once we've done that you can do what you want with him. Find the book, decide who's gonna fuck the virgin first and let's get this done."
The wolf howls again. So loud that Jensen's ears ring.
Finally someone else seems to realize just how close the wolf must be. "Dude, is that normal? I mean I know the ritual calls out to-"
Another howl cuts through the night. From the other direction. Then another.
"It just means the ritual's working." In-charge dude blusters, but under the masks Jensen can see how unsettled the gang are, glancing furtively around at the dark woods. "Let's get on with it. Turn him over and for fuck sake someone fetch the goddamn book and start reading."
Jensen finds himself being flipped back over, his face pushed down into the dirt. Mud clings to his lips and twigs and ferns clamber at his nose. He can only take shallow desperate breaths without inhaling dust and dried out leaves. He still manages to kick out when he feels someone's fingers pulling at the waistband of his underwear, but this time he can't stop them from dragging the elastic down over his ass.
The stilted sound of Latin starts up again as his underwear is yanked down his thighs. "You're gonna be so tight around my dick, Jenny." A nasally voice hisses in his ear, a solid weight pushing down on his back while a clammy hand grabs the cheek of his ass. "I'm gonna pop your cherry good, gonna dick you hard and then hold you down and let everyone else-"
This time the howl is so close that Jensen knows if he looked up the wolf would be right there as large as life. Everything stops. Mid word the ritualistic Latin cuts off. The guys surrounding Jensen still, even the wind rippling through the trees seems to drop off. Then, like a roar of thunder, a growl reverberates through the air, loud and dangerous, and Jensen feels the ground shudder underneath him. The hands pinning down his wrists are suddenly gone, ripped away, and the weight on his back disappears with a panicked cry. Jensen doesn't know whether to feel grateful or terrified. Going with instinct rather than reason, he sends up a swift prayer, screws his eyes shut and keeps his head down.
Screams and howls echo through the woods. He doesn't know what's happening but imagines the wolves are feasting quite nicely on douchebag frat boy. He only hopes they aren't planning on munching on terrified virgin for dessert.
He doesn't move, not a muscle, not an inch. Not until a wet nose prods against his ear then a rough tongue licks a disgustingly soggy stripe up his cheek. Then he yelps like a little girl and rolls away.
"Jesus, Jared, leave the kid alone."
Jensen opens his eyes.
"Fucking frat boys! I thought we'd gotten rid of all those damn books. Where do they keep finding them? Chad what the fuck did you do with our clothes this time and Jared will you stopping giving the virgin those puppy dog eyes and change back."
Jensen levers himself up onto his elbows and takes a good look around trying to figure out what the ever-loving fuck is going on.
There is a massive wolf sitting at his feet, tongue lolling out the side of its mouth and ears perked upright. It's staring at Jensen. And wagging its tail.
As if the evening wasn’t surreal enough.
Keeping half an eye on the huge wolf that seems to think it's a golden retriever, Jensen looks up to see a naked guy standing beside the dying flames of the fire, his hands on his hips and an expression of weary frustration on his face. "Chad, I swear to god, if you've lost our clothes again I'm gonna-"
"I've got them, man. Give me a fricking chance. Here!" Another guy walks out from behind a tree, a pair of jeans and boots in one hand and a duffelbag in the other, which he throws to shouty naked guy.
Shouty naked guy rummages through the bag and pulls out his own set of clothes. "Jeans and boots, is that it?"
"Come on, Chris; it’s better than the time he only packed socks."
Jensen watches as yet another guy joins in the naked weirdness. Speaking of... his own underwear is still twisted down around his knees. Jensen hauls his tighty whities back up as quickly as humanly possible and surely imagines the unhappy whine that elicits from the wolf.
When he looks back up the three guys are in varying stages of shrugging on jeans and boots and all of them are doing it while looking in his direction.
"So," One of them says; the one who seems to be in-charge or the bossiest at least, also the smallest but Jensen doesn't think that‘s pertinent. "I guess we should introduce ourselves. I'm Christian, that's Chad, and that's Matt. Oh, and the flea bitten mongrel at your feet is Jared."
Jensen stares open mouthed. He thinks, possibly, that somewhere in the melee he must have banged his head. Or he's been dosed with some kind of hallucinogenic drug.
"Fuck," The guy - Christian - curses. "I'm no good at the exposition crap. Jared, will you turn back, you fucker, so you can handle this shit."
"Let me," Chad says, with a squinty eyed smirk that Jensen is instantly suspicious of. "So you were kidnapped by those douchebag frat boys-"
Jensen rolls his eyes; that much he knows. The wolf at his feet shuffles forward, sniffing up his legs and licking some dirt off his kneecap.
"Okay, give me a chance virgin boy," Chad snaps. Chris cuffs him across the back of the head. Chad takes a step to the side, ensuring he's just out of Christian's reach and carries on. "So, college-boy’s plan was to recite an oldie, black-magic, don't touch with a pool cue because it's probably gonna turn you into a weasel, type ritual; make a blood sacrifice, that would be the chicken; defile a virgin, that would apparently be you, although I have to say I would have picked a blue-eyed blonde myself, you know - stereotypical movie virgin, long legs, big knockers," Chad does something crude with his hands that looks like he's squeezing melons, and this time Matt slaps him across the back of the head. "Shit, dude, watch the hair. Anyway where was I, so virgin sacrifice yaddah yaddah, covered that - and then I think there was maybe some of your blood involved, oh, yeah and obviously it had to be the full moon, and...."
Jensen's attention wanders from Chad's long winded tale - partly because he seems to be raving some nonsense about summoning wolf gods which in turn is developing into an X-rated description of some buxom goddess, and partly because the wolf is nuzzling closer and closer to his crotch.
"Hey, dude," Jensen says, shoving the wolf's snout when its breath bursts hot and moist over his balls. "I'm really not that type of girl."
The wolf looks up at him, its eyes bright and far more intelligent than any animals have a right to be. And far more beautiful; a sparkling spectrum of golden green and chocolate with fire-sparks of amber. Jensen can't help himself, he reaches out and runs his fingers through the wolf's brown and grey speckled fur. It's so soft, like puffs of down-feathers against his skin. Jensen is tempted to bury his face against its coat until he remembers - wolf. He stiffens and withdraws his hand, leaning backwards away from the beast, who has the nerve to look offended. It chuffs, then butts its huge head against Jensen's shoulder as though telling him not to be an idiot and before he knows it, Jensen's flat on his back under one hundred and forty pounds of slobbery wolf.
"Hairy dog-balls, Jared. Get the hell off the poor guy before you smother him." Christian bellows, although the sound is somewhat muffled through the huge wolf lying on top of Jensen.
"Shit, man, what's gotten into you. At least wait until you're on two legs before you de-virginize the kid." Jensen thinks that was Chad, but with the wolf nosing in his neck and drooling in his ear it's not easy to tell.
Eventually, much to the relief of Jensen's spine and lungs, the three guys manage to persuade the wolf that Jensen is not a dog bed. The wolf lumbers off of him with a disgruntled wuff, and Jensen inhales deeply, stretches his spine with a disconcerting crack, then full on body shivers. He might have been heavy, but the wolf was doing a great job of warming him up.
Matt grabs Jensen's arm and helps him to his feet. "I'm sorry, dude." He says, brushing dead leaves and grit from Jensen's shoulders and down his back. "I don't know what's wrong with him. Jay's not usually-"
"Get your hands off him."
Jensen looks up, startled. In the exact spot where the huge wolf was standing there is now a huge guy standing. A huge naked guy. And, holy shit, he's huge everywhere. Jensen licks his lips, and doesn't even try to hide the way his eyes roam over the man's body. He's gorgeous; from the tips of his tousled hair and his broad shoulder, all the way down past his narrow hips to his toned leg that seem to go on forever. He looks like a work of art, like he's been plucked out of Jensen's dreams and sculpted from marble.
"Jared," Matt says, disapproval heavy in his voice, but he does drop his hand from where it's resting on the small of Jensen's back. "Don't be a dick. And put some pants on."
"How," Jensen says dazed, mouth suddenly dry and brain stalling on how goddamn perfect the man standing staring at him is. "How did...where did the wolf go?"
"Dude," Chad says, throwing his arms out. "Did you not get the whole werewolf thing? The wolf is Jared. Jared is the wolf. We're all wolves."
"What?" Jensen says, shaking his head in an attempt to focus.
"Werewolves. We can all turn into wolves." Matt patiently repeats.
"You can all...." Jensen stutters and stumbles back a step. "You're all...no way...no fucking way....you're all....you're all fucking insane!"
Jared growls and steps towards him with a look of hungry intent. "I'm a werewolf. And you...you are my m-"
"Oh holy fuck balls," Chris interrupts, stepping swiftly in between Jensen and Jared and glowering at the larger man fiercely enough to stop him in his tracks. "This is what's going to happen. I'm going to explain all this one more time. Without Chad's help. Jared is going to shake off his wolf, stop thinking with his dick for two minutes and put his damn pants on, and then we're getting out of here before virgin boy's nuts freeze off. Capisce? Good."
"I can walk", Jensen says.
"So you said. Five times already." Jared replies, stepping over an anthill that's approximately the size of a small house whilst carefully avoiding jostling Jensen in his arms.
Jensen humphs in response, and tries not to feel utterly humiliated at being carried bridal style while dressed only in his tighty whities. You'd think after finding out that werewolves are real and that several of them attend his college and that they just saved him from being raped and mutilated by a bunch of unhinged frat boys, the loss of his dignity would be a minor issue.
"Seriously though," Jensen tries again after another minutes passes. "I'm fine. I can walk."
"Nope," Jared says, tightening his hold on Jensen. "You've no boots and you're practically blue with the cold. What kind of rescuer would I be if I let you freeze to death?"
If Jensen was honest, he'd admit that being wrapped in Jared's warm arms isn't the worst place in the world he could be, but this whole damsel in distress theme going on, well...it’s kind of emasculating. Before he can open his mouth to argue though, Chad butts in. "So virgin boy, where are we taking your fine ass to? Nice underwear by the way. I prefer to let my balls swing free personally, but whatever lifts your luggage."
Jensen cranes his neck around to glare at Chad who's following in Jared's much larger footsteps. "My name is Jensen, motherfucker, and home obviously. My dorm room."
Chris coughs, the awkward kind of cough that means 'oops I think we may have a problem' rather than I have a frog in my throat. Jensen snaps his head round in his direction. "What? What's wrong with that?"
Jared answers for him. "It's not safe. Those guys might come after you."
"But I thought you..." Jensen trails off, not quite sure what he thought, or not wanting to say it out loud at least.
"What? You thought we killed them?" Chad snorts a laugh. "What did you think we did with the bodies...eat them?"
"You thought we ate them?" Jared practically squeaks, ruining the butch alpha-male impression he's obviously trying to exude. "Eugh, that's nasty. Why would we want to eat humans; especially humans that wear polo shirts and boat shoes. Dude, give us some credit; we're not animals you know."
"Sorry, sorry." Jensen's quick to apologize, not wanting to anger the supernatural creatures no matter how friendly they are. Even if he does think entitled college boys who wear polo shirts and boat shoes are the very people that werewolves should be eating. "I didn't see what happened. One minute my head was shoved in the dirt and my ass was in the air, then I heard some growling and some screaming and maybe a little crying and then nothing. I just kind of assumed."
"Nah, man," Chris chuckles, throaty and rough. "We flashed them our teeth and claws, growled at them a bit, tore up their ritual and they ran off like a bunch of scared rabbits. Killing people, even if they are assholes, is kind of frowned upon by our pack leaders, and y'know...the cops."
Jensen knows he shouldn't feel disappointed, knows that it makes him a bad person, but he does, just a little bit. "So, they might come back for me?"
"I doubt it," Matt assure him. "We did the scare shit out of them, literally in one case. They're probably packing their bags and running back home to daddy right now. But it might be best if you lay low for a few days until we make sure that they're not going to try anything."
"And if they do?"
"If they do," Jared growls, resuming his macho alpha posturing, his fingers curling possessively into Jensen’s skin. "I'll..."
"Tell our pack leaders and let them handle it." Chris cuts in with a roll of his eyes. "They know people who know people; they'll make sure those dickheads are dealt with."
"Well, okay then," Jensen says. "And in the meantime, I'm supposed to do what exactly?"
Jared grins - wolfishly - and says triumphantly, "Mine. You can stay with me."
The three other guys groan in unison. "Jay, man-" Chris starts.
"Actually," Jensen hears himself saying, staring into Jared's hypnotic flickering golden eyes. "I think I'd like that."
Thankfully they don't have to walk too far; Jensen doesn't think his ego could take much more of the delicate princess treatment. Chad's car is parked a little way past the edge of the wood and they all pile in, Chris and Matt purposefully sitting either side of Jensen on the back seat, forcing a sulky Jared into the front beside Chad. The ride to Jared's apartment doesn't take longer than fifteen minutes and Jensen swears that within that time Chris asks him at least ten times if he's sure about this. Jensen has given up answering and taken to crossing his arms over his chest and scowling threateningly.
Despite Jared's disappointed puppy dog eyes and pathetic pout, Jensen insists on walking from Chad's car up to his temporary safe-house. He wraps the blanket from Chad's backseat around himself, determinedly ignoring the dubious stains and funky smell, and follows Jared up to the third floor of the building. A grey-haired woman with three yipping chihuahuas is, thankfully, the only person they meet on the way. She smiles pleasantly at Jared, all innocent sweet old lady, then looks Jensen over like she's assessing a broodmare, licks her thin wrinkled lips and winks. Jared practically hauls Jensen up the rest of the stairs after that.
Nothing about Jared's place suggests that a werewolf lives there. Not like Jensen expected there to be a neon sign advertising the fact, but it's just all so normal. It's a spacious one bedroom apartment; bright, comfortable and blissfully warm. And with a shower that Jensen could be persuaded to sell his soul for.
Jared bundles Jensen into the steaming shower almost as soon as they step into the apartment. Jensen doesn't put up too much of a fight. As well as thoroughly thawing Jensen out, and easing the bruises that litter his battered body, the shower - which has three directional heads, three, and water pressure that a firetruck would be jealous of - also gives him time to think. Mainly about Jared. It had obviously taken a while for the wolfish side of his personality to take a back seat, but once it - he - had relaxed, Jared had turned into a modest, funny, and maybe a little dorky - not forgetting ridiculously gorgeous - guy. Even after he'd endured a ten minute lecture from Chris and a lot of teasing from Chad, Jared had promised to keep Jensen safe - and unmolested - until he could go home. The more Jensen thinks about it though, the more he's not sure that he's on-board with the unmolested stipulation. When he thinks about Jared, standing gloriously naked in the moonlight, muscles straining and eyes fierce, it takes a huge amount of willpower not to jack-off in the shower. He's still half-hard by the time he walks into the living room.
"Nice digs for a student, dude." Jensen says, admiring the huge television and giant squishy looking sofa.
It takes a second for Jared to answer, possibly distracted by the fact that Jensen is now dressed. Dressed in Jared's clothes; sweatpants that cover his toes, and a t-shirt that hangs loose at his neck.
"Yeah, um...my parents, you know...they have...a little money. They wanted me to have somewhere decent to live. Somewhere that I could have privacy if I needed to y'know-"
"Wolf out?" Jensen supplies helpfully.
Jared's cheeks pink. He runs his fingers through his hair and shrugs. His sudden bashfulness is adorable. "Yeah, that I guess. Does it freak you out? You don't seem freaked out."
"I don't think I have the energy to freak out about anything right now." Jensen admits. "It's been one helluva long and weird night."
Jared's face falls. "Oh sure; so you just want to go to bed then?"
"Your bed?" Jensen asks.
Jared shrugs and points in the direction of his bedroom. "Yeah, it's the only bed. Don't worry; I'll sleep on the sofa."
"And if I don't want you to?"
"Dude, I have to sleep somewhere." Jared's says, missing the point by a clear mile.
"I mean," Jensen tries not to huff in impatience, acting smooth and seductive is harder than he imagined. "What if I want to sleep in your bed - with you?"
"Sleep?" Jared croaks, eyes wide.
"Have sex." Jensen damn near shouts in frustration, subtlety is obviously wasted on werewolves...or maybe just Jared.
"Jensen," Jared takes a step backwards as though he's afraid. "I don't think you want that."
"I know what I want," Jensen takes a predatory step towards Jared, a little thrill running through him that he's somehow managed to turn the tables.
"Please, don't come any closer."
Jensen takes another step. "Why not?"
"Because you smell like me....mine. And I want you. I wanted you the second I saw you. Wanted to mark you up and make you mine. Wanted to kill those bastards for touching you."
"Maybe I wanted that too. Want that. Want you."
Jared shakes his head, breathes out heavily through his mouth. When he speaks, his words are shaky, threaded with doubt. "Jensen, you're a virgin."
"And I want you to be my first."
Stumbling backwards Jared almost crashes into the wall. His hands clench into white-knuckled fists at his side and his voice crumbles to a choked plea. "Please, Jensen, I don't think I can control myself if you come any closer."
"My only." Jensen adds, gazing up at Jared through his eyelashes, and taking another step, and another, until he's within touching distance. "I want you to take me to bed, and fuck me."
Jensen is close enough to Jared to see a bead of sweat trickle down his brow and watch as his dark pupils swallow the swirling amber in his eyes. To see the roll of his throat as he gulps. "Jensen....are you sure?"
Rising up on to his toes, Jensen leans in and nudges the hard line of his erection against Jared's thigh. "Do I feel sure to you?" He purrs in Jared's ear.
That's all it takes for Jared to finally break. He lunges forwards, spinning Jensen around and kissing him so suddenly that it's dizzying. His arms cage Jensen against the wall, but he kisses so softly, his lips a barely-there promise, that Jensen moans in frustration. Perversely, Jared backs off instead of caving to Jensen's complaints. His lips drag across Jensen's neck, nuzzling under Jensen's ear and then he rasps breathlessly, “Are you sure, Jensen. You have to be sure. I can't-"
Wriggling in Jared's hold, Jensen twists his head and steals the last of Jared's words with a hungry kiss that he hopes answers Jared's question.
"Bed!" Jared says -half demand, half question - when Jensen finally draws back for breath. Jensen licks the taste of Jared from his lips and nods enthusiastically. Clothes are left abandoned where they fall as they make their way to the bedroom, tripping over each other because they can't bear to not be touching. Jared hauls his tee off Jensen, immediately kissing the bare skin that it reveals. Jensen can't keep his fingers from trailing over Jared's abs; the muscles tensing under his fingertips. He rips Jared's belt from its loops and throws it on the floor, too busy tugging open the buttons on Jared's jeans to care where it lands. It should hurt when his back slams against bedroom door, but with Jared mouthing at his collar bone he doesn't even notice.
Jared's jeans and sweatpants end up tangled together on the floor; Jared shoving Jensen onto his bed so forcefully that he bounces on the mattress. "Seeing you in my clothes," He growls, "Smelling my scent on you, christ, Jensen you have no idea what it does to me."
Jensen thinks he has some idea. Jared's eyes are almost black, his cock blood-red, hard and so fucking beautiful, slapping against his belly. If Jensen thought Jared's dick was big the first time he set eyes on him naked, it's nothing compared to what it looks like now, fully erect and swollen, leaking at the tip, and thick at the base. Jensen though he'd be nervous the first time he had sex, that he'd have to work up to it, take his time with someone he loved; a little frottage, a hand job, maybe a blow job. When he sees Jared's cock though, he wants it inside of him...right the fuck now. He says as much to Jared; although the demand he wanted it to be turns into a desperate whine somewhere between the words entering his head and leaving his tongue.
Jared grins down at him; white teeth sparkling and eyes dancing with happiness in his sun-kissed face. And Jensen is struck once again by how gorgeous Jared is, and how unbelievably lucky Jensen is that Jared wants him. "Please," Jensen says. "Please, Jared."
Jared drops on to his knees at the bottom of the bed and crawls up Jensen's body, "Shhh," He soothes. "You don't need to beg, Jensen. I'm gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel good."
The relief Jensen feels at hearing that is short-lived because when Jared says he's going to take care of him what he means is he's going to tease and torment Jensen until his dick actually explodes. Jensen thinks that Jared might have forgotten that he is a virgin, and has the staying power of....a virgin. By the time Jared has stroked, kissed, and licked his way from Jensen's neck down to his knees - his fucking knees; nobody told him that knees were a goddamn erogenous zone - Jensen's dick is rock hard, his balls drawn so tight that it's almost painful. His stomach is clenching and he feels hot, fevered, like the room's spinning around him. He's never felt like this before. When he's touched himself it’s never felt this intense, the need to come overwhelming, unstoppable; like a tsunami rushing through him.
"Jared, please...I can't..." Jensen throws his arm across his eyes and with nothing more than Jared's lips brushing against the tip of his cock, he's coming. White hot splashes against his thighs and belly. When the last of his orgasm rolls over him, he's left panting and burning up with humiliation. He twists over onto his side, knees curling up and tears threatening just behind his eyelids.
"Hey," Jared says, gently rolling Jensen onto his back and hovering over him. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"I came," Jensen chokes out, even more embarrassed when he spots a splodge of his come dripping down Jared's cheek. "I came before you even-"
"Hey, shhh, Jensen. Don't get upset. You were awesome, hot as hell. I wanted you to come. Wanted to see your face the first time I got you off." Jared chuckles, wiping the come from his face and sucking it from his finger with a devilish grin. "That's kind of the whole point, y'know. You come. Maybe you come again. I come. I come some more. You come-"
"Okay, okay, I get it," Jensen mumbles when it appears Jared is planning on carrying on all night. "But, I came too soon; I wanted you inside me."
Jared leans down and kisses the pout from Jensen's lips, his hand snaking between their stomachs and ghosting over Jensen's spent dick, which instantly perks right back up again. Stamina Jensen's dick may be lacking in, enthusiasm it is not. "I'm gonna be inside you soon, babe; don't you worry."
"Don't call me babe," Jensen gasps as Jared's teeth graze over one of his nipples. "What was that, babe?" Jared smirks, licks Jensen's nipple, blows a puff of air across it, then draws it into his mouth and bites down. What was what? Jensen thinks, arching off the bed with a surprised whimper. Nipples are awesome. Jared worshiping Jensen's nipples with his crazy-talented mouth is fucking mind-blowing.
This time Jared plays Jensen's body like he's a grand-master. He teases him enough to bring him near the edge, but doesn't quite push him over. Even when his mouth sinks down over Jensen's cock, he grips the base of his shaft firmly enough that Jensen relaxes and enjoys thrusting up into the glorious wet heat rather than worrying about rudely spurting in Jared's mouth. By the time Jared urges Jensen over on to his knees while rummaging through his bedside table for a bottle of lube, Jensen feels as though his skin is electrified. Every touch sends sparks of pleasure racing through him, and he can't think, can't speak, can only feel.
Jensen's heart almost stops beating when he feels Jared's lips brush across his virgin hole. He feels his whole face flush scarlet as Jared's tongue flicks out and licks across that tightly-furled untouched spot. Freezing in place, he concentrates on remembering to breathe as Jared's huge hands grasp his ass cheeks, spreading them apart, giving his mouth easier access to Jensen's hole. Every pass of Jared's tongue across his hole leaves Jensen's thighs trembling a little more. Jared licks and prods, sucks and kisses, nibbles at the rim then soothes with the flat of his tongue. Even when he spits onto Jensen's hole - so fucking filthy - it makes Jensen's belly twist and his cock throb. Jensen's soaked in sweat, his arms and legs shaking, his ass a sloppy mess by the time Jared presses a wet finger into Jensen’s hole alongside his tongue; pushing a fingertip in just far enough for Jensen to feel it. Jensen moans, tilts his ass up, silently demanding more.
Behind him Jared groans, punched-out and rough, and complies. Marking a trail of dirty kisses up Jensen's spine, he works more of his finger into Jensen's ass. At first it's a strange sensation, a little wrong, a little weird, but good definitely good. Then Jared squirts a dollop of cold lube onto Jensen's hole and squeezes in another finger, sinks in all the way to the knuckle and twists and Jensen almost shoots off the bed. That's not good, that's life-changingly in-fucking-credible. "So goddamn beautiful," Jared gasps. "Look at you, so sensitive, so responsive, so fucking perfect."
Jensen whimpers and writhes on the bed as Jared works him open, dribbling lube into his ass, and fingering him until his hole is sopping wet, loose and begging for more. He kisses the back of Jensen's shoulders, nuzzles the nape of his neck, scrapes his teeth across Jensen earlobe, then sucks it into his mouth. "Perfect," He whispers into Jensen's ear, the ghost of his breath electrifying against the sensitive skin. "Mine. Only ever mine."
The first tentative push of Jared's cock against Jensen's hole is a shock. Jared's cock is huge and no matter how loose Jensen is, the intrusion is nothing but painful. Jensen's whimpers turned pained, his squirms below Jared panicked. Jared stops, just for second, soothes Jensen with soft words and petting, then he presses on, pushes in slow but steady. Jensen wants it, wants Jared inside him, but the ache just grows until his ass burns and his belly cramps, and tears are dripping down his flushed cheeks.
"Relax, Jensen. Just relax, please." Jared says, but he doesn't stop until he's fully sheathed in Jensen's ass. He doesn't move, just holds himself steady and waits. It takes minutes, and Jared massaging gentle circles over Jensen's belly, then fondling his balls and stroking his dick back to full hardness but eventually the pain fades.
"Okay, okay, move," Jensen finally says, impatience winning out over any residual discomfort. He rocks himself forward and back, taking the initiative and encouraging Jared to move things along.
Jared doesn't ask if he's sure, but he does grab hold of Jensen's hips and take control. He goes slow at first. His cock a teasing drag as it inches in and out of Jensen's hole, but gradually he thrusts harder, builds up a rhythm that has Jensen writhing on the end of his cock. When Jared urges Jensen down, he goes easily, his shoulders trembling under the strain of holding himself upright. He ends up on his belly with his dick trapped underneath him, Jared a hot weight above him; his chest sliding across Jensen's back, both of them slick with sweat, his teeth worrying a brand into the side of Jensen's neck. And whether it's the change of angle, or the friction against his cock that's just on the right side of painful, or whether it's Jared's excited pants in his ear, Jensen's not sure, but suddenly every thrust, every swivel of Jared's hips, every slap of Jared's balls against his ass, sends fireworks racing up Jensen's spine, pleasure pulsing through every nerve in his body.
If Jensen was aware enough to care, he'd worry about Jared's neighbors overhearing them. Jared is pounding into him so forcefully that the headboard thumps against the wall with every thrust. Each time Jared's cock pistons into him and hits that spot just right, Jensen shouts out and moans, begging for more, deeper and harder, his inhibitions blown out of his brain. Jared's grunts turn into growls, possessive and demanding and loud. All Jensen cares about though, is Jared's cock filling him up so goddamn perfectly that he can't even remember his own name. If this is what sex is like, Jensen is almost sorry he waited. Almost sorry, because he suspects that sex with anyone else but Jared could never feel like this.
Jensen is squirming out of his skin, clawing holes in the bedsheet, by the time Jared's rhythm grows frantic. "Fuck, Jensen." Jared groans. "Going to come, going to....going to....fill you up and-"
Jared roars and slams into Jensen's ass, and that's all Jensen knows. He swears he sees God, the Angels too, and every celestial being in heaven is singing odes to Jared in his head. It's possible he passes out, just for a second. When he regains his senses, Jared is still on top of him, still thrusting. Jensen can feel how wet he is, his thighs sticky and hole leaking. And there's a new pressure building, pushing against his hole. "Jared," Jensen's voice is a useless croak. "Jared, what-"
"Gotta knot you, Jensen. Gotta fill you up, plug your pretty little hole and breed you. Gonna fuck you full. Gonna make you mine. My mate. Mine."
Jensen doesn't have the time or energy to panic before Jared lifts his hips up and slams into him one final time, and if Jensen thought he was full before he was kidding himself. Now, Jared is spurting inside him, coating his insides filling him up and his knot....like a dog, Jensen realizes...like a wolf.....his knot is plugging Jensen's ass, trapping his come and tying them together. The pressure against his prostrate is a constant swell of pleasure. Not the overwhelming crash of an orgasm but a relentless euphoric hum that leaves Jensen sated and blissed out and lying in a huge damp puddle of his own jizz.
At some point Jared shifts, wraps his arms around Jensen and rolls them over so they're lying on their sides, Jared curled around Jensen, his knot still inflated trapping them together. Not that Jensen's complaining.
"So," Jared says, somewhat sheepishly. "I have a knot. It's a wolf thing. It's not normal, well...not for humans."
"I'm a virgin, Jared, not a complete idiot." Jensen mumbles, his blissed state preventing him from too sarcastic a comeback. It's kind of sweet that Jared thinks Jensen's that naive. Or maybe Jensen's just fucked senseless and past caring.
"We could be here a while," Jared admits. "Y'know with the whole mates thing. It's all a bit more...intense."
"Mates?" Jensen murmurs sleepily.
"Don't worry about it." Jared says softly, kissing Jensen's shoulder. "We'll talk about it in the morning."
And the breeding thing, Jensen thinks hazily. He needs to ask Jared about the breeding thing. It has to be a weird kink right? I mean Jared might be a wolf but Jensen's not a girl. Yeah, Jensen thinks as Jared gasps and shudders and another pulse of come swells inside of Jensen, his belly bulging unnoticed with Jared's seed, it's just a kink.