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One peek at his calendar tells Jensen all he needs to know: ah, right. Hormones.
It’s easier to deal once you know you haven’t started to go crazy. Jensen is ready to power through it. Can’t be long until his heat hits all the way. The usual symptoms settle in: drowsiness, loss of focus, increased discharge. Jensen is irritable. Then again, he kinda always is.
Jensen pinches himself when he finds himself zoning out in marketing again. He huffs. Osric gives him a knowing, careful glance. Jensen rolls his eyes at him to confirm. Osric smiles, pats Jensen’s shoulder. Their cycles are still aligned. Will be for another while—they had been roommates for nearly three semesters, after all.
They have lunch together. Old habits die hard and, honestly, try to find a fellow Omega who is as disgustingly ambitious as Osric. You’d think that in a school this progressive, this open towards Omegas in academics, you’d find more O’s like Jensen and Osric. Ones who are not just lingering in class, hoping to find a promising mate. Well, let’s say Jensen’s been disabused.
Osric says, “You could ask him,” and Jensen growls under his breath and into his meatless taco. Osric laughs. “What? You’re right at the source! Why not make use of it?”
“You know I’m not about that shit, man.” Jensen knuckles his eyes under his glasses. Sighs, because damn, he’s hot. And tired. Long fucking day—and it’s only lunchtime. Jensen flicks a piece of lettuce off his hand. “He’s probably booked out anyway. He’s spent maybe…maybe two nights in our room so far. Two.” Jensen holds the according number of fingers up. His taco is slowly disintegrating in the noodle-y grip of his other hand.
Osric gives him an unimpressed look.
Jensen’s taco falls apart as he tries to take another bite.
His ex-roommate tells him, “Just sayin’, dude,” and Jensen doesn’t want to hear it, and he knows, he fucking knows but shut up, just let him fucking be, for fuck’s sake… “You’d feel better afterwards, trust me.”
Jensen knows. He fucking knows. Don’t lecture him. Don’t look at him. Don’t fucking breathe in his direction. … Yeah, okay, irritation is peaking, great. Just—great.
By the end of the day, Jensen barely manages a shower. He’s so unsteady and leaking and feverish that every single Alpha in the hall cranes their neck after him. Jensen utters death threats with his toiletry bag and used towel clutched to his front, his pajamas already soaked through anew. Nobody dares to chat him up. There are strict rules; it’s a good, proper school. The only school Jensen’s folks would let him go to—we’re just worried for you, honey, we know you’re excellent at everything you do, but people are just… They can be cruel, s’all.
Jensen lets himself into the room his scholarship covers, that he now shares with—an Alpha. Not any Alpha either, because of course Jensen Ross has to freaking luck out on every fucking thing in the universe and was paired with one of the freshmen RA’s. (They insisted it’s random. Jensen is aware it’s common here to let O’s and A’s share rooms. His parents weren’t thrilled. Jensen wasn’t thrilled. But he didn’t pipe up. He didn’t bitch.) And speaking of luck, of course Jared is in. Looks up from his notes and books laid out all over himself and his bed he’s lounging on, gives Jensen a surprised look and then…
Well, Jensen’s scent isn’t exactly subtle right now.
Jensen clears his throat, his head bright red. He closes the door. Mutters about being tired and Jared can keep his light on if he wants, it doesn’t bother him, and then he’s dumped his shit on his desk and kicked off his flip-flops and dives under the sheets. Jensen curls in on himself, pulls the sheets even tighter—shivers. Shuts his eyes. Ah. Everything is…hot. And sore.
Jensen’s pulse thuds loud in his ears. His blood is boiling. He is distantly aware of Jared, shuffling his shit around. Fumbling with paper; the scratchy bass of his music through his crappy earbuds. Movement on the corridor in front of their room. Jensen drifts within seconds. His head is pounding. Something else further south pounds as well.
Must be the presence of an Alpha so close-by that fucks Jensen’s system up further. With Osric, it wasn’t this…intense. They mellowed each other out, even though Jensen would find himself riled up when Osric would come back reeking of his boyfriend, beaming and happy and satisfied because he got his knot (and got it well, from what he would gossip about). But Jared, Jared’s scent… Goddammit, Jensen can smell him reacting. That distinctive musk of his dick, the hungry tinge to his blood…!
A muffled something and then, clearer, “Jensen,” and Jensen cringes and rubs his face into his pillow and utters about no and let me sleep. His boxers cling wet to his ass and he’s sweating like a pig, but he hears the Alpha getting up and he feels him crossing the handful of feet between their beds and so he says, louder,
“I just wanna sleep, man,”
but when he picks up his head to glare and see, Jared is already by his bedside. That tall, happy-go-lucky kid in his perpetual basketball shorts, his features pinched between worry and curiosity and…something else. One of those huge-huge hands curls over Jensen’s shoulder to turn him further (onto his back? Jensen pulls the other way) and the Alpha tries, “C’mon,” and, “no way you’ll be able to sleep like that,” and Jensen tells him again: no, leave me alone, I can do this, I don’t need your help. But Jared’s already got one knee on Jensen’s bed.
And Jensen is already rolling on his back.
“I’m free all night,” offers Jared, the stupid kid, his cheeks gaining color and he strips out of his tank top like it’s already decided, and, fuck, Jensen can only guess what he himself looks like—sweaty and disgusting but his legs part wide and Jared climbs between them. Jensen somehow makes it onto one elbow so when Jared dives in to kiss him, they kinda knock against each other awkwardly, and then there’s—a tongue in Jensen’s mouth that laps straight at his gums, into the back of his throat. Jensen’s breath hitches and he gets a hold of Jared’s arm or something, and then he just—melts. Hot knife to a stick of butter.
Jared tastes like—well, it’s not Jensen’s first kiss and it won’t be Jensen’s first time with a bio knot, but—it’s funky and salty and Jensen cringes for it, groans for it. Jared moves in and in, helps Jensen to get rid of the sheets in their way, helps Jensen to wrestle out of his underwear. Jensen hears a sharp, “Fuck,” and grumbles something incoherent in reply; fights getting peeled out of his sweat-slick t-shirt. Jared wins, though, and Jensen is now glad that his vision is blurry as all hell because Jared must be staring even worse than Jensen can tell. Jared is firm, muscled and lean and his hair hangs into his face and then his eyes dart up to Jensen’s face, intense enough to make Jensen shake to his fucking core.
“C’mon,” slurs Jensen, hands on Jared’s ass and yanking his shorts down for him; thighs spread and his knees tucked tight around Jared’s even tighter flanks, “c’monc’monc’mon…!”
Jensen’s body locks up for the brutal bite to the side of his throat—he yelps, his insides clench, and—he sobs, relieved, as Jared’s dick smacks the inside of his thigh, thick and hot, finally released from those stupid fucking shorts. Jared growls and lines up and bulls in, and that’s even fucking better, even though he’s not all the way erect yet. Jensen didn’t even finger himself in the showers because that only tends to make it worse, but…!
Oh, he’s big.
Oh, shit, he’s really fucking big, isn’t he?
Jared bottoms out with a grunt around the mouthful of Jensen’s throat he’s still gnawing at. Jensen scrambles to cling—he blabbers, feels his mouth and throat moving but he can’t see, can’t hear anything except for: Jared’s blood. The steady, punishing throb of it, centered where he’s spearing Jensen open. Where Jensen’s so soaked and soft the Alpha can just rut inside, get comfortable. Jensen’s cunt squeezes on instinct, teases the Alpha deeper, more, harder. Jared finally relaxes his jaws and sucks a groan over where his teeth just dug into. He’s—heavy. Grinds into Jensen, on top of Jensen. Jensen can’t breathe. All he tastes is—Jared.
Muffled, “Please tell me you’re on the pill,” and Jensen nods, and Jared groans again. His muscles shift right under Jensen’s hands, under the warm-warm, sleek coat of his skin. Jensen can fucking feel him filling out, inside. Pumping bigger, fatter, until there’s a real, tangible stretch.
And then some.
Jared ruts into Jensen. Knocks him open. Bumps the massive, flared crown of his cock straight up against Jensen’s cervix, and both of Jensen’s sphincters nurse on him, cling and drag on the veined, bulged length of him. Jared snarls with his face all pinched, up on one elbow. Jensen might be staring. His mouth might be hanging open. Jared’s tongue dips into the latter, easy and wet and consuming. Jensen’s breath hitches for the hot, damp palm that curls around his left breast, squeezing. Owning.
“You’ll feel better,” promises the Alpha, like he knows a damn thing, but Jensen is too busy tearing up and clutching that broad fucking back to give a fuck. He rocks back onto the massive weight of the RA’s cock, and now that it’s done getting hard, it’s—despite all of Jensen’s heat-slick, it’s a rough ride. Jensen’s half-hard dick throbs numbly, distantly.
Jensen thinks he says something along the lines of, “Okay,” and then the world blurs for a bit. Because, Lord, he’s forgotten what it’s like to get fucked. Like this, and in general.
He doesn’t remember it being this—consuming. This brain-dissolving and intense and he comes just a couple of strokes in, yelps with how his cunt draws tight and Jared just growls and punches through it—root to tip, all of it, thudding in hard so Jensen comes again just for the pleasure-pain of getting his cervix knocked into. Jensen wails and comes and comes and the Alpha on top of him growls, “That’s it,” and just keeps going, keeps pounding Jensen so hard he starts crying for real, snot and slobber and everything. His grip on Jared’s shoulders wanes until he’s just hanging on. The bed is soaked beneath them. Jensen’s body is one sore throb. Jared bites him again. Kisses him again.
Jensen might be chanting yesyesyes because the Alpha growls like a threat, and Jensen feels—ah, finally…! Fucking finally; this is what he needed, what he requires…!
Jared slams forward a final, brutal time before he just holds himself in and still and Jensen comes again while that knot begins to pop inside of him, blooms sickeningly quick. Jensen yelps in surprise and pain and too-much-too-soon—his insides milk at Jared’s cock, Jared’s knot, with all they got. Jensen slaps his hand over his own mouth to cancel at least some of the pathetic sounds he’s making. Jared licks and nips Jensen’s knuckles. Jensen’s fingers.
“So good. Takin’ me so good, baby… I’m sorry, I know… I know…!”
Jensen whimpers. Jared licks and sucks at his throat, his scent gland behind his ear. He’s rocking them together so his knot tugs on Jensen’s sensitive, spasming sphincters. It’s too much. He’s too big. Jensen can’t—stop.
“You’re making me come, workin’ me like that… You ready? Ready for me, baby?”
Jensen sobs, and he sobs again for that first, hot gush, for Jared’s bone-deep groan of relief. The Alpha tenses to one powerful line that presses and throbs with his release, and—Jensen remembers this part, this gross, invasive sensation of getting emptied in, enough to make him bloat, have it overflow around the tight seal of his cunt and into his ass…! Jensen shakes, doesn’t get a break from his back-to-back orgasms. His body does its best to sate its needs, to get him pregnant, oblivious to the chemicals Jensen’s been feeding it for years and years. Jensen hasn’t fucked on a heat since high school and his body makes him feel it—yeah, look, not too bad, right? Don’t you wanna do this again? Several times? All the time?
The Alpha keeps going and going until Jensen begins to squirm in discomfort. He claps Jared lightly on the back and then harder on his ass—gets a snarl, a push of those hips. Jensen whines and gets his hand snatched, gets it wedged between their chests, gets Jared shutting him up with a sopping-wet kiss (more of a bite than anything else).
Jensen blinks, disoriented. Has the kid nursing on his swollen-fat lip, has him starting to purr and, eventually, relax on top of him. More kissing. God, they’re wet…in way too many ways.
Jensen groans. He pushes weakly at Jared’s shoulder. Of course, that doesn’t get him anything.
“Get off. I’m hot.”
Jared chuckles, “Uh, not going anywhere,” and gently tugs on their tie to prove his point, which sends Jensen cramping and groaning all over again. The young Alpha nuzzles Jensen’s throat. Laps and sucks Jensen’s shoulder, Jensen’s clavicle. “Not for another five minutes.”
Jensen gets his breast kissed, his nipple suckled on. He whimpers, deflates back into the pillows. He wipes his wet hair out of his face. Ah, shit. He’s got training tomorrow. Coach is not gonna be amused.
The Alpha on top of Jensen makes small, happy noises. Keeps marking and sucking and deep inside Jensen, his cock dribbles out aborted, last blurts of his load, and… Well, yeah, they’re not going anywhere, so it’s not like it makes sense to argue.
Jensen deflates further with a deep, wrangled sigh. His eyes drift shut and oh, how nice would it be to just…fall…asleep…right now… …
It’s his own damn bed, anyway.
~
“Okay.”
Jared just shrugs with a smile and keeps eating. Jensen doesn’t like the way he shrugs. Or how he smiles. Jensen glares.
“What? I know how y’all get. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I can supervise my emotions just fine without your input.”
“Yeah, okay, sorry.”
Jared doesn’t straight-out laugh but his smile grows even bigger, and he looks at his food like it’s an adorable small animal and Jensen is…well, it’s not as bad as it was yesterday, but his heat still has him in its ugly, moist claws. Which obviously is why he can’t stop staring at his roommate’s mouth. The damn dimples. Jesus, lashes aren’t supposed to be this long on an Alpha.
Jensen repeats, “Last night didn’t mean anything,” before he takes another bite of his breakfast burrito. It’s a nice day out. The fresh air does Jensen good. The fact that this quaint outdoor breakfast was Jared’s idea? Not so much. “So don’t get any wrong ideas. And don’t think this will turn into something regular, because—”
“‘’Cause I don’t have time for that crap’; yeah, heard you the first time.”
Jensen narrows his eyes further. Jared smiles at him with extra sweetness from across the picnic table.
Damn A’s don’t have to worry about anything. No pregnancy scares, no glass ceilings, no expectations to stay home and dedicate their lives to their reproductive functions and its ‘outcomes’. Jensen yearns back to the time he and Osric shared that damn room. Same boat, the two of them. Same struggles.
Jensen isn’t one to complain twenty-four-seven, but whenever he had his five minutes, Osric not only listened but understood. And that’s gone now because? Yeah, exactly, he’d rather hang off his boyfriend’s knot as often as possible. In Osric’s defense, his studies haven’t been compromised by his relationship so far (from what Jensen can tell). But it’s just a matter of time. Jensen knows how it goes.
Jensen sighs and closes his locker, tucks his uniform into place. Together with the rest of his team, he swarms out onto the court. Coach gives them a briefing and then it’s warm up time. Jensen is grateful for the distraction from the persistent brain-fog last night left him with. He’s sore, too, but he ignores that even more.
Jogging, no thoughts. Chatter with his teammates, oh look, there they come—Jensen checks out the basketball team spilling onto the field just like anyone else. Looking is fine. Ah, right. Jared.
Jared P with his sports scholarship, full ride. Long and lean and strong and he’s everyone’s golden boy, popular and handsome and God, it’s disgusting, really. And Jensen’s apparently not the only one who thinks like that: poor kid drags himself into the dorm some nights all roughed up; competition is a bitch among Alphas. But he’s got it figured out, he says, upon careful questioning. The cheerleader cluster gets close to the basketballers and earns some respective looks themselves. Jensen looks up ahead, not at anyone.
A stray whistle and giggles and the basketball coach calls for everyone to gather around and Jensen hears from behind, “He is so fucking cute,” and, “Damn, those legs go all the way, don’t they?” and Jensen rolls his eyes and picks up the pace. His sneakers pound the ground. Steady breathing. His heat dissolves so fast, this time. He’s not proud of how he achieved it, but he does welcome the result.
“I heard it’s baseball-sized…!”
“Ohmygod, you’re not serious!”
“Amber told me! She had him over this Tuesday. Ask her yourself if you don’t believe me!”
“Can she even walk again after taking that?”
Jensen grumbles, “Oh my fucking God,” and builds up enough speed to be out of earshot.
You’d think people would be able to prioritize. But apparently, Jensen is a rare breed who can think about and act on issues that have absolutely nothing to do with anyone’s goddamn knot.
Jensen attends his classes and he has his lunch. He hogs his usual library table and by the time he’s finally calling it a day, he is beyond beat. His heat lingers and, across the last few hours, decided to flare back up a little. Or he’s just that exhausted. It’s not too bad, though. Used to be worse when he didn’t make a draft on an RA.
Jensen is just done reminding his system that it better not get used to being spoiled to last night’s extent when Jared and him bump into each other right outside their room.
Jensen’s already got his key out and just kinda…waits for Jared to either make his move or get out of the way. But Jared just stands there, towel over his shoulder, toiletry bag under his bare arm. Same outfit as last night: shorts and tank top (fresh ones, though, at least). His hair’s still damp. His eyes are kinda…glossy.
Jensen unlocks the door after gently elbowing the Alpha aside. He mumbles, “Hit the gym a bit too hard, buddy?” but Jared doesn’t reply. Jensen then picks up Jared’s scent.
Well, whoever Jared just blessed with his RA duties, it sure smelled like they had a good freaking time. Jared, too. Even a thorough shower doesn’t wash off all those pheromones. Jensen wrinkles his nose.
He proceeds to let himself into their room as Jared tries, “Hey, I can’t help it,” and Jensen snorts, because, seriously, screw you. “I’m a Resident Alpha, you know that. That’s what we do: keepin’ y’all safe and getting you through the worst.”
“Funny how they weren’t even in heat but got the appointment anyway.”
“Jensen…”
Jensen pretends not to notice their scents reacting to each other and pushes past Jared. He puts his books away, his laptop. Plucks his earphones out and hears the door closing behind him and then there’s a wall of warmth pressing up against his back, hands sliding around his stomach from behind—Jared nuzzles the side of Jensen’s neck. Scents him.
Jensen startles and gasps, “Fuck,” and puts one hand on the table for stability. “C’mon, quit it… We talked about this, man.”
“I got half an hour before the next one.”
Jensen grunts. Both hands on Jared’s wrists, trying to dislodge him, he snarls, “Great,” and his stupid ass pushes itself back against Jared’s (warm) lap despite rather clear orders from upstairs. “Just great. Can you even get it up that often?”
Jared ignores Jensen’s futile attempts to make him let go and grabs Jensen’s crotch instead.
Jensen’s hand returns to the desktop.
Jared grinds them together. Kisses Jensen’s neck, into the neckline of his tee. Jensen’s insides draw up in greedy anticipation. Ah. Yeah. Yeah, Jared apparently can get it up just fine.
“I said no, Jared.”
“You need me. I can smell it.”
“Stop smelling and start listening, asshole.”
Jared keeps mumbling, “You’re already getting wet,” and Jensen groans, gets his shorts unzipped and pulled down. His briefs follow. Jensen doesn’t interfere further.
Jensen finds himself with both forearms on his study desk with his mouth hanging open, with Jared on his knees behind him, eating him out. Warm hands that hold Jensen open for that tongue to just claim claim claim, opening him up where he’s still loose from last night, where he’s still not recovered. Jared’s Alpha saliva does its job and renders Jensen’s knees (and objections) useless. The bastard doesn’t even bother to finger Jensen, just stands up and gets his dick and shoves it in. Jensen might groan, but it does work out despite the halfhearted prep.
“See? Told you.”
Jensen grumbles threats, swallows. Jared thuds forward, raging hard and competent and digging way too deep into Jensen’s guts, both hands on Jensen’s hips to pull him back, make Jensen meet him—Jensen’s already run out of space. The Alpha behind him keeps churning and fighting to bury those last inches.
Jensen drops his face onto his forearm with a whine as Jared spits, helps. Mumbles, “That’s it,” and it hurts, and it doesn’t. Jensen’s heels lift off the ugly carpet floor. Jared’s feet shuffle to a wider stance. Settling in.
Jensen has the wherewithal to take off his glasses before they inevitably get crushed.
The moment Jared’s ever-full balls finally pillow against his taint has him sigh such a pathetic sound he nearly starts crying.
Jensen buries his teeth in his forearm. Lets Jared break him open. Lets him rut where Jensen goes softer and wetter with every too-fat stroke. Jared is careful. If he was just after his own pleasure, he wouldn’t grant Jensen all this time to adjust. Okay. Okay, screw this—whatever, fine; if this is what this Resident Alpha deems oh-so-necessary, Jensen will put up with it. What-freaking-ever.
“You like it like this? From behind? Or do you wanna get on the bed? Like last night?”
“God, shut—up…!”
Jensen imagines hearing a chuckle. Can’t be sure though, because damn, processing thoughts is getting tricky. Jensen involuntarily clenches and gasps for the sneaky grip on one of his tits. Jared’s hot hand fondles Jensen under his tee. The Alpha unfs in reply to Jensen’s body wriggling back into his lap, grinding on his cock. Quicker, more shallow stabs of those hips. Jensen whimpers. Right now, Jared thuds straight into his good spot.
Jared babbles, “So responsive,” and Jensen reminds that he’s gonna kill him, shut up and just fuck me, idiot, and Jared chortles and huffs, “Can do,” and lays into Jensen’s g-spot even better. The steady pounding leaves Jensen melting, his instincts singing. It never felt this intense, this satisfying—Jensen’s starting to realize just how much he deprived his body of. That’s the only explanation he has for why it feels so fucking good to have sex with this idiot.
Jared is younger than him and still calls his mom every other night and wears his socks inside-out all the time, and yet, Jensen comes handsfree on his cock, which is just fucking bullshit.
Jared groans and audibly grits his teeth and truly nails Jensen now, works him through it while Jensen’s convulsing with it head to toe, nearly prone on his desk; one long line for Jared to fill, pound out, carve out for himself.
Jensen whimpers and paws his cheek aside when he feels Jared’s knot starting to swell.
Jared growls. Layers his fingers over Jensen’s; helps.
He rolls his hips with control but he pulls back dangerously far—Jensen gasps every time the quickly-expanding swell of that knot catches on his rim.
“Airtight,” croons Jared once grounded, once caught inside and not going anywhere and still fucking growing, with Jensen clenching and winding and struggling. Jared slaps him on his ass when Jensen gets too lively—Jensen yelps and then growls. He smacks Jared’s stomach. Gets his wrist caught. Gets tugged back against Jared’s body with it.
Jensen whimpers, “Don’t,” and, “I’ll come again,” and yet grinds himself on the Alpha’s knot all by himself. Feels it stretching him, the veins dragging, driving him mad…!
Jared grunts, “Good,” and works his hips in strict, small circles that tug on their tie so perfectly, so teasingly, that Jensen doesn’t stand a fucking chance.
Jensen’s legs nearly give out. Thank God for the damn table.
Behind him, Jared hisses—rakes his hand up and down Jensen’s lower back while he pumps him full, makes Jensen shiver for the drag of his nails, his skin. Jensen’s still shaking.
He hears, “It’s okay,” so soft that it makes Jensen growl with how badly it pisses him off. “It’s your heat talkin’. It’s so normal to get like that. Don’t worry about it. I don’t judge.”
Jensen grumbles, “Woopdie-fucking-doo,” and, thank God, the kid doesn’t pipe up again.
Once the tie’s down and they successfully separate, Jensen throws himself into bed with a bundle of tissues. Belly-down and groaning…goddammit, leaking already. Tissues. More tissues.
Movement, next to him. He turns his head.
Jared rummages through his side of the overhead shelves. He comes up with a handful of condoms and one of the too-many bottles of lube he’s got stacked up there. He’s still fucking—panting from mounting Jensen, goddammit.
“Seriously?”
“What?” Jared gives Jensen a clueless look. “I told you.”
Jensen just stares at the guy. Who ignores him, stuffs the supplies into his toiletry bag and leaves the room. Alone yet again, Jensen—scoffs. Wow. Just…wow.
Jensen deflates back into the pillows and huffs. A new wave of Jared’s load trickles into the tissues. Jensen should probably take another shower, this is kinda gross. … Okay, it’s not gonna happen, who is he trying to fool. No way he’s getting up again tonight.
~
Within a mere bunch of weeks, Jensen had to resort to his good ol’ ‘if you don’t think about it, it doesn’t exist’ mentality. He tried denying it, he tried accepting it…but, no, nothing would feel right. This—this is better. Just don’t think about it. Go with the flow.
Jensen appreciates that Jared no longer writes his name on his stupid whiteboard timetable, that there is a solid black block from eight-thirty to nine, Monday through Sunday. Jared promised it’s fine, it’d be lawsuit material if they questioned someone’s heat cycle, Stephen does this all the time with his more regular partners, it’s not a big deal, everyone does it, blah blah blah, okay, Jensen gets it, everybody is horny and it’s okay if you’re horny, too. And Jensen isn’t even horny per se. He just finds himself much more productive if his hormones get balanced out regularly.
“Oh ffffuck, oh my God…!”
Jensen’s voice breaks off. Jared’s fist keeps pumping on his dick, makes him dribble out—more. Jensen whines, caught in a straddle the wrong way around while Jared’s other hand rubs up his lower back, under his tee. Jensen shakes. Jared grunts as his own orgasm finally takes a hold of him. Jensen—melts. Ah. Finally.
Jared mumbles, “Fuck,” as Jensen gathers the wherewithal to grab his nearby reading material. He wedged it between Jared’s mattress and the bedframe so he can reach it easily, but every little movement of course manipulates their tie. Jensen huffs, flips through the pages. He wipes his face and knuckles his nose and ignores Jared’s quiet pleasure-noises. “Fuck, you shouldn’t be this hot…” Jensen scoffs through an unseen smile. Jared’s always-moving hands cup Jensen’s lower stomach as if he’s still gotta make sure this is actually happening. That unmistakable hot little groan when he feels Jensen’s belly distending with how much he’s pumping into him, and Jensen has to slap that wrist and remind the Alpha to quit it, I’m not your squeeze toy, and Jared—well, he’s selective about when, but he can be a good boy.
Jensen’s behind on like three assignments right now, so every minute counts. Especially the five-and-some-change minutes Jared spends tied to Jensen’s ass every goddamn night.
Well. Theoretically, in sum, it’s more like…twenty minutes. Each day.
It is now four-thirty PM and both guys groan as Jensen’s phone goes off wayyyy over there on the table.
“Oh my fucking God—that’s my study group, fuck…! We were supposed to meet, I totally fucking forgot…!”
Jared jokes, “Well, at least you remembered to set the alarm? That’s progress, right?” and he giggles when Jensen (not very gently) slaps his thigh.
“This isn’t funny.”
“It, uh, it really kind of is.”
As Jensen glares over his shoulder, he finds his roommate smiling up at him, his eyes still glassy and his mouth and cheeks pink, his teeth sunk into his lip. One arm behind his head, the other incessantly rubbing at Jensen—his hip, his stomach. His dick.
Jensen’s eyes narrow further. “Don’t, Padalecki.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“I told you, I really gotta get this essay done; I already pushed the deadline to—stop moving, goddammit, I know what you’re doing…!”
Jared smiles. “What am I doing, Jen?” Jared sits up. Slots his muscled, naked front right up against Jensen’s clothed back and the pull on the tie is—goddammit, not again…
Jensen groans, “You fucking asshole,” as the Alpha kisses his neck and slides his hands under his shirt, and Jensen—goddammit, okay, he’s gonna put the notes aside for just a minute… … Crap.
Crap, this is bad. It’s really freaking bad.
Jensen’s proverbial horse isn’t quite as high as it used to be. Suddenly, dropping out in favor of mateship is something he, of course, wouldn’t consider, ever, but…has become something Jensen experiences sympathy for. Empathy? That thing where you understand when and why other people (who are not yourself) would want to do something. That.
Getting knotted on the regular is… Jensen hates to admit it, but he fucking loves it. Everything about it. How it feels before, during and after. The foreplay. The absolute security of getting his needs met. Mentally and physically, it just—it just makes sense.
Jensen doesn’t necessarily need it, but he recognizes that he can put biology off only so far. And, really, with an RA for a roommate, the access couldn’t be any more effortless. The frequency, though, is…becoming a problem. He’s working on it.
Jensen is aware he’s gambling with his future, and that there’s a time limit to his slacking off. While the next exam period is still quite a few months away, it will come, and Jensen will have to meet his scholarship’s requirements if he doesn’t want to be kicked out of the program—and that’s not an option. Every other school he, his credit score and his family could afford (and believe me, he checked) basically amounts to a matchmaking course with no actual educational value. A glorified two-year wedding retreat, so to say. No. No, Jensen only has so much leeway, and it’s starting to run thin, so he will have to think of something. Soon. Pretty soon. Yesterday. Goddammit.
By the time Jensen’s made it out of Jared’s bed and into the library, his group has already dispersed. He scowls at his phone, the group chat where they’re asking him: you sure you’re still up for it? You haven’t been to a single meeting so far… Just let us know, we’ll find a replacement, no offense taken. Jensen sighs, kneads the bridge of his nose. Fuck, Ackles; get it together. Maybe he can ask some of the other O’s on their floor to keep Jared busy for the next couple of weeks. Yeah. Yeah, he could do that.
Jensen’s gasping right into Jared’s mouth at eight-oh-five sharp as Jared knots him again. Clutches him close and just—groans, and eats at Jensen’s mouth while his knot fills to completion and they rock, Jensen in his lap and Jared sitting on the bed, and…surely, Jared’s curricular performance can’t be too golden either. When he’s not on RA duty or on the court, training, he’s at the gym or the cafeteria (or…well, in Jensen, but that’s not the point). Where Jensen would at least catch him with an open book or maybe pen and paper at the start of the semester, Jared’s interest in that part of college life apparently expired. As far as Jensen is aware, he uses his desk solely to haul Jensen on top of it to fuck him standing up. Grades might just not be important with his sports scholarship. Right. Prick. (He’s doing great at games, to be fair. Jensen should know since his cheer squad’s been present for every single one of ’em.)
Jensen isn’t blind and his nose works just fine, in case you’re wondering. He’s aware when people start swooning over him; he’s been attracting this kind of attention left and right ever since he presented. His own looks and his scent are no secret to him, so he doesn’t blame Jared for obviously crushing on him like a high school girl. College, being away from your family pack for the first time—it’s a lot to deal with, it’s all shiny and new and exciting, and Jared is a sweet guy, he’s obviously family-oriented and a sap and probably lost his first knot to his prom date (on prom night) and they held hands and gazed at the stars and all that crap… Anyway, with all the emotions, a guy like Jared, obviously, would easily get dragged into stuff head over heels. Jensen can be demeaning and verbally abusive as much as he wants (he pushes, even, just to see what will happen, but), Jared doesn’t fucking care. He follows Jensen around whenever he can like a love-sick puppy. It’s humiliating, really. Jensen set him straight several times already. Jared says it’s cool, that it’s not that deep. Right. Because Jensen’s never heard that line before.
So-called ‘soulmate bonds’ might be a nice porn myth, but Jensen’s not a fucking D&D kid. The ‘magic of love’ is bullshit because it’s the chemicals that trick your brain into throwing yourself at someone, it’s genes and reproduction and that’s that, and Jensen’s not a romantic but even if he was, something as sexy as hormones and carriers clicking into each other wouldn’t exactly be the kind of heartfelt thrill he’d be looking for. Like, sorry, but that shit is calculable, it’s science and it’s boring, so what IF Jared and he are obviously super-duper made for each other? That crap is all about having babies. Jensen doesn’t want to have babies. Specifically not with someone who calls a protein shake with two spoonfuls of peanut butter a goddamn smoothie. So, no, thank you, appreciate the thought but no, really.
They have great sex, so what? It’s just sex. A young, virile O like Jensen can get a stud on any corner, that’s not his life’s struggle.
“Stop—don’t move.”
Jensen blinks. Jared’s grip on his hips keeps him from rocking.
“I don’t…I don’t wanna come just yet.” Jared’s eyes are lidded, his smile is small. He must be tired.
Jensen rakes his sweat-soaked hair out of his face for him with a scowl. Jared hums in appreciation and kisses Jensen’s throat. Jensen lets him, cradles him. No moving, no playing with their tie. Whatever. Jensen already finished.
Jared’s breathing is steady and deep. He’s beaming with heat. His knot goes down quicker without an orgasm, but it still takes a while. Jensen can just—enjoy the stretch. The deep satisfaction his own nut left him with, the prospect of a nice hot shower after this, some more reading before bed. Jared made him squirt again this time and Jensen’s slick cools awkwardly and gooey between their bellies. Jared says that he likes it, that he thinks it’s ‘cute’ that Jensen can do that. Freak.
Jared lifts Jensen by the waist when he decides his knot’s gone down enough for them to separate—Jensen’s body clearly doesn’t agree and he groans, clenches. Jared keeps lifting him. Cups his free hand under Jensen’s ass, splits his fingers around where his knot threatens to pull Jensen inside-out. He spreads and tugs and finally, he pops free—an actual pop, wet and humiliating, and Jensen groans and Jared chuckles and has both hands on Jensen’s ass, now. His cock is long enough that Jensen couldn’t lift completely off it if he pushed all the way onto his knees, so the tip (and then some) remains cradled in Jensen’s guts. Jared hums and smears Jensen’s slick around the swollen lip of his loosened rim.
“So soft.”
“All your fault.”
“Yeah.”
Jensen whines as Jared manhandles him to lie down. Climbs over him and kisses him and grinds the entire length of his cock back where it belongs. Jensen’s got both hands cupped around that sweaty, smiling face and moans. Jared shoulders Jensen’s legs and nurses on his mouth as he fucks his knot in and out of Jensen’s ass.
“Fuck…”
“Just one more.”
“… Fuck.”
Jared’s laugh hits sweet against Jensen’s cheek.
~
Between Osric’s and Jensen’s busy schedules, they have to come to terms with the fact that they only managed to spend that much time together because they were literally living in the same room. They try to make it every Thursday. Big emphasis on the ‘try’.
Jensen spots his friend at their usual cafeteria table and hurries over; he’s a bit late.
“Hey.”
“Hey!”
“Sorry, I was—”
“I literally arrived here half a minute ago, you’re good.”
“Ah, all right.”
Jensen slips onto the bench and puts his food down. He hauls his laptop out of his bag and stacks his books next to it while it boots.
In Osric’s defense: he allows to be small-talked until halfway into their meal before he leans in with that fucking…conspiring grin Jensen unfortunately knows all-too-well.
“So. Baseball-sized, huh?”
Jensen balks and splutters and attempts a half-assed diversion. Osric just keeps grinning, though, and Jensen feels his face heating faster than he’s comfortable with.
“Dude, I’m just glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Ha-ha. Thanks.”
“No, seriously. After, you know…” Osric raises his brows like a smartass. Jensen flushes further. “For a while, I thought you were…! Which wouldn’t have bothered me, just…”
“No, I, I get it. I get what you mean.”
Osric grins at him. Jensen cringes.
“Oh my God, stop.”
“You were a most ‘accommodating’ roommate, just saying.”
“Can you not yap about that in public, please? Oh my God. I hate you.”
“Misha really enjoys our stories.”
“Ohmygod.”
“He calls them ‘refreshing’.”
“I will strangle you, Chau.”
Osric scoffs, “Bull. You’d be completely lost without me,” and Jensen grumbles into another bite of his food so he doesn’t have to admit how fucking right his friend is. “No, but, seriously, I’m happy for you. You deserve it.”
“… Thanks. I guess.”
“You look awesome. He smells good on you.”
“…”
“They’re good, right?” Osric at least has the decency to lean in for that and lowers his voice. “I bet you chucked that toy once you had a taste of the real thing?”
Jensen warns, “Chau,” and the O smiles sweet, bats his lashes. Damn brat. “Chau, don’t…push your fucking luck.”
Osric only pushes said fucking luck just a little further and more evenly dispersed across the afternoon. Jensen makes progress on his work but not as much as he hoped for. Fuck, he had been so hyped to have gone through with clearing his schedule for this, and now…Osric won’t stop talking about knots and demanding Jensen’s fresh new take on the topic. Osric could just give Padalecki a try, really, and Jensen tells him as much, but Osric politely declines; he’s happy with his boyfriend, after all. He’s just nosey. Jensen leaves their study session pent-up and weirdly flattered.
If Jensen keeps this up, he’s gonna ruin it all. He’s gonna become just another statistic, just another proof that his sex simply isn’t cut out for higher education. No. No, this is what he wants—an actual job, an actual career. Fucking is nice, but it’s not what makes his life complete. No, he has to pace himself. For real.
Cheer training, an extra round at the gym. Group work that he doesn’t miss, this time. Jensen dominates the meeting and proves that he is more than capable of pulling his own (and everyone else’s) weight. His formerly skeptical group members end up impressed. Jensen ends up with a pounding headache. It’s past nine. Jensen grabs a deli sandwich from the nearby kiosk and heads home.
Even over the swiss cheese and his headache, Jensen can’t escape the sour twinge of Jared’s displeased scent all the way from the elevator to their room.
And sure enough, as soon as he opens the door: “Where were you?”
Jensen reminds, “I texted you,” and closes the door, stuffs the rest of his dinner into his mouth. He unpacks. Jared scoots to the edge of his bed from where he had been lounging before.
“Yeah—and I texted you back!”
“Well, sorry that I didn’t have a chance to be on my stupid phone all fucking day like other—”
Jensen balks as he swipes his phone alive to five missed calls and twenty unread texts. All from Jared. Jensen’s irritation peaks. He skims the texts while Jared continues to go off next to him.
“—all afternoon, I even went looking for you but nobody knew where you were, do you have ANY idea how—”
“Your goddamn rut? Seriously?”
Jared looks at him like Jensen has three heads. “Yeah?!”
Jensen reiterates, “You’re making a scene because your dick is hard?” which is obviously not the reaction Jared had anticipated, judging by how the air thickens further. Jensen throws his phone onto his desk and raises his arms in defeat. “Dude, I’m not your fleshlight. Go get it wet somewhere else, it’s not like we’re married.”
“I cleared my schedule for you and everything!”
“Uh, and that is my fault because? I’m fucking exhausted, dude, I’m not joking when I say that you have to take this somewhere else. I’m not dealing with this. My head feels like it’s about to explode.” (It…isn’t, anymore, actually. Jensen grits his teeth harder. Damn fucking biology.) “I’m sorry, but I mean it. I can’t.”
“You’re joking.” Jared scoffs. He sinks in on himself—sweating, tense, still looking like he might pounce Jensen any second now. But realization finds him, and it finds him well. “You… Dude. Dude, you can’t do that to me.”
“Just find someone else. There’s enough to go around, I’ve heard.” It’s a power move to remove his pants right now, he is aware, yeah, but Jensen has to get into his pajamas and into bed, no way around that. His tone and his glare are enough to keep Jared at bay.
“I can’t just…” Jared tosses his octopus-arms. “Babe, I can’t just go…knocking on people’s doors! We’re not even allowed in the halls after ten…”
“Again, not my problem.” Jensen climbs into bed and tucks himself in, puts his glasses on the nightstand. If he doesn’t stay strong, he’ll give in, and if he gives in, they’ll fuck all night, which means Jensen’s sleep schedule will be screwed even worse than it already is, and he can’t fucking have that. “Look, just—don’t you have that damn pocket pussy they give y’all? I know you still have it. I saw you stuff it into the box under your bed when you moved in and thought I wasn’t looking.”
Jensen has the decency to look over his shoulder so he’s at least looking at Jared as he berates him, so Jared’s disheartened expression isn’t lost on him.
Jared winces.
“But it’s…it’s not the same, babe.”
“Good night.”
“Babe… Jensen… … … Seriously? … Baby, come on, please…”
The Alpha gives up eventually (not without a loud, pointed sigh). Jensen remains stoic. It’s all he’s got.
Jared quietly begins, “You’re…” but, fortunately for him, stops himself.
Jensen cringes as he hears his roommate sigh again. Cardboard on the carpet floor, the light switch. The creak of Jared’s bed, the shuffle of his clothes and the sheets. Another sigh, smaller; skin on skin. Jensen closes his eyes and tries to focus on…literally anything else than the persistent stink of Jared’s pheromones.
Jared must have started under the covers because he now kicks said covers off. He’s quiet, at least, but the sounds are…unmistakable. Jensen swallows his own spit which, thanks to the air in their room, tastes like Jared’s dick and only makes Jensen salivate even more. God, absolutely not, no. Not tonight, you prick. Jensen snuggles deeper into his pillow. On the bed behind him, Jared sighs softly.
Jared gets super wet super fast, always. Leaking in the front nearly as much as an O does in the back, and Jensen had teased him about it before because, well, it’s gross and adorable at the same time, and Jared blushed very cutely for it being pointed out to him. Ah, that had been a good look on him, all flustered…! He’s lucky to have been offered the RA status, because otherwise, what he has to resort to right now would be the single available outlet for his Alpha needs.
The silicone toy still is brand new and the smell makes Jensen’s nose itch. His body begins to react to what is going on mere feet from him and he tries to think of unattractive professors, of Mackenzie’s arm when she had snapped it in half on the playground back when they were kids… Unfortunately, the click of Jared’s throat as he swallows and squirts some lube into his hand is…hard to shake off.
Ah, must be the toy, getting into play. Jared’s breath goes quiet for a moment and there is a wet slide—the toy, swallowing up his cock. Jared isn’t the most considerate or self-preserving person, so he utters, “Fuck,” despite lights out, despite Jensen obviously not interested in any of this. Jensen glares at the wall as his cheeks heat up. The toy’s got a good suction going, judging by the wet, full noises it produces as Jared pumps it on his cock.
It’s special-made for Alphas, so it’ll be able to swallow Jared’s knot and everything, sate him completely. Just like a real O. Probably says so on the box. Tacky. Jensen presses his temple harder into the pillow he’s got his arm wedged underneath.
“Fuck…so fucking tight…”
Jensen swallows a growl and curls tighter in his bed.
“Just what I needed… A tight, wet pussy… Mmmh, fuck…”
“Dude, can you NOT?”
“Mmmmh, just keep sleepin’, don’t worry about me… I’m so fucking good right now, all fucking good, baby…”
“Okay, you know what? Fuck you.”
Even in the dark, Jensen can see the guy’s fucking smug, big grin as Jensen wrestles his sheets off himself and hurries to climb into Jared’s bed instead. Jared has the audacity to laugh, even; which at least dies to a strangled moan once Jensen takes over on the toy and fucks it way harder on Jared’s cock than Jared had done it—just a couple of strokes and Jared grunts, “Fuck, stop, I’m gonna pop,” and Jensen grunts in victory against those teeth, laps into the mouth that more than hungrily nurses right back at him, sweat and musk and irritation right there on Jared’s tongue. Jared’s arms wind around Jensen right away and hurry to yank his pajama pants just low enough so he can wrestle Jensen to the right height, so he can dislodge the damn toy from his huge, ready-to-blow cock, all the while kiss-biting Jensen’s face and growling under his breath and fucking dangerous, no trace left of the shy boy he can be when it’s just Jensen and him and there is only one Oreo left.
The toy gets tossed God-knows-where while the bed creaks with how hurried Jared moves, while Jensen gasps for the belly-deep growl in the bite to his neck, the imperative pull of Jared’s hands seating Jensen exactly where he needs him—his rut’s got him bad and his cock is swollen huge, even bigger than usual, and Jensen bucks as it forces into him, no prep except for the audio-show and Jared’s scent, and…God, he hates that it’s just enough. That his body accepts, despite all odds.
“Fuckfuckfuck, slow, oh my God I can’t, don’t—!”
Jared growls, “Let me,” and yanks Jensen down the rest of the way, one brutal shove that buries him to the hilt where his knot is already set off, not much wider than his glans just yet, but oh, fuck, Jensen yelps for the shock, for the sting and the ache and Jared continues to growl as his teeth sink deeper into Jensen’s throat, as he squeezes Jensen in his arms and pinches his scruff to help him accommodate, and that—that’s different, not good or particularly bad but Jensen just sort of melts and freezes at the same time and can’t move.
His mouth hangs open and he pants into Jared’s hair, Jared’s hot-as-hell ear and he can’t do anything about Jared’s knot swelling up in him, rendering him helpless, forcing him to just take it. It’s overwhelming, violating. Jensen tears up. Oh, no, Jensen’s gonna come like this.
Jared keeps up the growl like it’s a purr instead, and it sounds genuinely painful when he starts to come, and the vice grip he’s got on Jensen worsens further. He slides one possessive hand down to where they’re joined and shows Jensen how he wants him to move. How hard he needs Jensen to work his knot and Jensen does, sobbing and choppy but he does, and the Alpha rewards him with a loud, relieved sigh. His hands on Jensen’s hips force Jensen to keep up the rhythm, back and forth like they’re fucking, letting Jared’s knot bump in the more-than-restricted clutch and as predicted, Jensen comes suddenly and spectacularly and loudly, and all Jared has to offer is to smack his ass until it hurts, until Jensen is sobbing and still caught on him and Jared throws them over, buries Jensen underneath himself so he can anchor his knees and rut into him.
Jensen’s roommate roars, “Good fucking bitch,” and Jensen sobs, mortified, still coming (again?), clutching Jared tight and not letting go, arms and legs and scent, his insides, everywhere. “Fuck, take it; take me—I can feel you working that knot, baby, don’t stop, make me load you up until you’re fucking choking on it—!”
Jensen does all that, but it’s not enough for Jared’s rut; no.
“Jen,” and the taste of Jensen’s own skin and blood as they kiss, their juices down south somehow because they’re just one long line melted together, and Jared bites his lip so hard it splits, and Jensen whimpers but doesn’t want it to stop. He couldn’t make Jared stop if he tried. “Hold on. Hold onto me now, baby; let me fuck that pretty pussy, let me come in it again…!”
Jensen sobs and obliges. Jared’s knot is still mostly popped so there is no way he can pull it out, but he sure moves as if he could. Jensen’s high school girlfriend had done this to him and Osric had used his fist that one time they got real high during spring break but none of that comes close to how Jared is wrecking him right now. Jensen’s body reels to keep up with the Alpha’s demands, and the fucking whiplash is something else.
Jared wrangles Jensen to all fours with their tie still intact; Jensen whines because it fucking hurts but Jared just pinches his scruff again and Jensen loses all requirements for bones or muscles in his body. He slumps into a deep arch and Jared is free to pound him from behind, his knot now shrunk enough that he simply fucks it in and out of Jensen as he hammers away, no qualms about Jensen’s body’s limits. Jensen groans and drools into the sheets and can’t exactly breathe with Jared’s hand bearing down on his neck from behind, but fucking God, he doesn’t care.
There is nothing except for: Jared, owning him.
Hollowing him out. Ruining him.
“Most pliant fucking bitch I’ve ever met,” rumbles the Alpha from above, breathless and spit-wet, audibly licking his chops in between words. His come sops nasty and copiously as he doesn’t give Jensen a single second of a break; just holds him ass-up with both hands on his hips and slams into him like he’s pushing to get him pregnant. “Not supposed to have favorites but ohmygodjen, I catch your scent and it’s over, can’t think of anyone else… No other fucking bitch compares; even when they moan and grind on my knot, I just close my eyes and pretend they’re you…!”
Even through the haze of what’s happening, the main tone of Jared’s babbling registers with Jensen’s knot-fried brain and he cringes and sobs again—sobs more when Jared knot flares right back up without ever going down all the way and he pushes forward with a heart-shattering howl and simply buries Jensen underneath himself, flattens himself out on top of him. Sucks on the back of Jensen’s neck and keeps rutting, his arm slung around Jensen’s chest from behind.
Jared continues, “You’re just so…!” and breaks off with a groan, a shudder. Another powerful gush of come that makes Jensen tremble to his core. Jared roughly rubs and squeezes Jensen’s still-clothed shoulder. “Fuck, you like that? Yeah?” Jensen nods and croaks his yes as if he had any other chance. Like Jared doesn’t feel him milking at him with yet another orgasm bolting through him. “Read about it. ’S like—it hurts me, a bit, to—mmh, fffuuuck, I feel that, d-don’t—! ‘Makin’ love with your knot’ or sum, oh fuck, oh fuck, baby, you love it so much, don’t you, I can tell, oh, ffff—!”
‘Love’ might be an understatement.
Jensen is fucking screwed.
He was supposed to—goddammit, he has things to do, why is he playing cumdump for this stupid kid? How is he supposed to leave this bed for the duration of Jared’s rut, huh? ‘Read about it’ oh you absolute rolling pin you wouldn’t know what reading even IS if someone told you, screw you, screw your huge fucking knot and your utter devotion to ruining my life with it, how DARE YOU say these things and hit the spots I didn’t even freaking KNOW I had, what in the actual, freaking FUCK, Alpha!
Jensen doesn’t say any of these things out loud because it would require breath and cognitive function he doesn’t have, but he does: slur a tearful, “You freaking idiot,” as soon as Jared sort of lets up on him (about ten orgasms and three knots later, at fuck-your-entire-life o’clock). Jared just sort of yips like a broken kitten and makes a face and looks like he’s about to pass out or start crying, and his eyes are lidded because they’re too weak to stay open as his body strains further by pumping Jensen full with yet another load. His fingers shake as he carefully picks Jensen’s bangs out of Jensen’s lashes for him and kisses him way too sweet, and then he…actually starts to cry.
Jensen’s life is such a fucking joke.
“You’re just so—you’re different, you’re so different, Jen…!”
“There, there…”
Unfortunately, the humiliation of being sweaty and snot-nosed while being knotted and orgasming doesn’t stop Jared from talking. Jensen cringes and keeps petting the poor thing.
“You’re—nobody else, I swear, I never—the things you make me feel, I just… It’s so much, and… When we’re together, everything feels right for once, and, and, first I thought—I thought going to college as a virgin was a stupid move but then they made me RA and I was like? So fucking happy? And then I met you and things got—even better?” Oh boy. “Screwing those other people, I thought it was kinda, it was fine, but, with you, I—I was all ‘wow’ and like, I thought I had done stuff wrong at first because with you, it was so much—better? So I tried, but, even when I did everything like we do, it just, it never… You know?” Oooooh…boy.
“Jared.”
Jared sniffles. Jensen nearly has to cross his eyes to look at him they’re so close.
“Jared, buddy, you’re talking out of your knot right now.”
Jared’s sweaty, snotty face wrinkles in confusion.
“It’s your rut talking,” helps Jensen, the saint. “You won’t remember—anything of this tomorrow.”
Jared immediately utters, “That’s not true,” and baby-shakes his head, and he regathers Jensen in his arms, who has had to crane his neck an awful lot to establish eye contact, by the way. Jensen groans and begins to argue but Jared just nuzzles up, gives him a soft, “No,” and some more kisses over the huge sore his earlier bite left behind. Aw, fuck, that’s another problem… “I mean it. I mean it, Jen.”
Jensen sighs, “Sure you do,” and the position is…ah, he’s just gonna…close his eyes real quick… … …
~
Jensen exits their room to a round of applause and whistles. And a written warning pinned to the door. They were a bit…loud, apparently. Jensen grumbles with his head beet-red and folds up the paper into his pocket before he proceeds his waddle of shame to the showers.
The hot water is both a blessing and a curse. It is Saturday morning. Jared’s rut started the day Jensen studied with Chau, which was…oh fuck, Thursday. Jensen bangs his head against the tiles and groans very quietly yet very heartfeltly.
Jared is still snoring like a gang of lumberjacks, face-down, halfway hanging off his bed, by the time Jensen gingerly lets himself back into the room. Jensen makes a face. Jensen opens a window.
Jensen decides that there is no use waiting for Sleeping Beauty to rise and his phone is blowing up anyway. Jensen gathers his shit and puts on his glasses and makes his slow way to the cafeteria. He eats…an embarrassing number of sandwiches. He pours sugar into his second coffee. He still feels…like absolute shit. Like a whole Walmart parking lot’s worth of trucks ran him over. This is not an exaggeration.
The only light at the end of the tunnel remains that Chau confesses he had been the kind soul to bring them water and a stray meal. Jensen had apparently allowed him to come in. Jensen doesn’t remember any of it. Osric promises it’s fine, we’ve all been there, invite me to a nice dinner sometime and we’re good. Jensen winces as he scratches his neck without thinking. Damn bites. Yeah. Plural. Fuck.
Jensen spends the rest of the day sulking and reading. He starts with homework he’s supposed to hand in on Monday, and as he gazes up into the blue sky, a warm breeze dancing around his paler-than-usual skin, the grass of the campus park lush and mocking him, he understands that…he can’t let this continue. This is it. The point of no return. Pick a damn side, Ackles. You know an O can’t have it all.
Jensen sighs. Jensen groans.
Jensen grabs his phone and texts Osric. Osric texts back within minutes.
Osric C: uh yeah sure? couple of nights is always fine
Osric C: why? everything ok?
Jensen sighs again and tiredly blinks up into the sky.
~
Considering how adamant Jensen is about reclaiming control over his education and how little Jared’s mere presence would help him with that, he should probably be way less upset about…actually being left alone by the kid.
As in: suddenly, magically, Jared understood what it means to honor someone else’s boundaries. He doesn’t text. He doesn’t approach Jensen. He doesn’t even—on the field, during training, he’s not even looking at Jensen.
And according to what Seth shared in the changing room yesterday, his knot is working just freaking fine.
“All that raw energy—you know what I mean?”
“Haha, oh my God…!”
“Lucky you to have scored a spot! I texted him for my heat next week and he’s already booked out…”
Jensen finds safety in his studies and essays, his group project he finally has time to turn into something top-grade-worthy. His group members eye him suspiciously through his double-espresso nine AM rant over a minor detail on slide eight. Well, newsflash, losers: get with it or get ground to bits in this cruel world.
Jensen glares at a naughty Jared-P-related bathroom stall graffiti. His brain considers this pause a convenient moment to remind him that he hasn’t gone into heat a single time since Jared started banging him on the regular. (Well, except for that one rut-induced one. But that had been…different.) Congrats, Ackles: you got knotted so often your body considered you mated! Oh, God. Good that this has stopped. This level of commitment must have been skirting a campus code violation.
With every passing day Jensen spends outside of Jared’s spitting distance, his thoughts recover to normalcy, to pre-knotfest times, just how Jensen wanted. His business studies professor tells him she considers him for a TA position next year. Jensen is proud. Jensen is optimistic. Jensen is couch-surfing (or, well, floor-surfing) with every cheerleader, study partner and vaguely sympathetic student he can find. Since his dorm room is included in his scholarship, he’s not even losing out on any money. It’s perfect.
Except that it’s fucking not.
Three weeks. Three. Without talking to Jared, touching Jared; nothing. Jensen’s in their chat log again, rereading Jared’s careful offer to talk whenever you’re ready, no pressure, and Jensen’s so tired from studying all day that he can’t even get mad. At Jared. At himself. At the corner Jensen’s painted himself into. God…this sucks.
You: is it cool if I sleep in my bed tonight? didn’t find anything else.
Jensen waits with bated breath. He waits. He waits more. But Jared won’t reply for another two hours, and he’ll just tell Jensen ‘sure that’s cool, I’m not home anyway’.
The room is still the same. Of course it is. But as Jensen hauls his duffle crammed-full with his shit he’s hauled around the dorms and adjacent housing (with Osric and Misha being located in the latter) onto his bed and Jared’s is just empty, and his scent is faint as if he hasn’t stepped foot in here in a while, that…that’s just… Jensen doesn’t even have a word for what he feels.
Jensen swallows. Jensen unpacks.
~
“Hey.”
“Oh. Hey.” (Jared looks at him but he doesn’t…look at him.)
“I was—wondering if,” but Jensen gets cut off by a whistle, and Jared perks, obviously glad to have an excuse to look somewhere else. He picks up his too-long arms as if he was ready to just jog away.
“Sorry—gotta go, is this urgent or something?”
“I—no. No. See ya, I guess,” and Jared’s already pacing off, leaving Jensen and his sweaty hands behind.
Oh, goddammit.
Ian very fittingly accentuates Jensen’s return with, “Wah-wah-waaaah!” and Jensen cuffs him on the shoulder, and Ian laughs, and others laugh with him. Jensen’s ears flame hot.
“Trouble in paradise?”
“That ice finally melting, Ackles?”
“Shut up, seriously.”
“You should’ve just yanked his shorts down and blown him right there on the field, that would have worked! You’ve got no finesse when it comes to A’s…”
Jensen warns a last, sharp time: “Watch it!” Thankfully, Coach takes over. Thankfully, the fury at his teammates overpowers the debilitating urge to cry and/or crawl over to Jared to beg for his attention.
The damn whiteboard on Jared’s wall is…a goddamn mess. Well, it’s not messy, it’s just incredibly busy. Jared apparently does his absolute best to accommodate everyone who wants a piece of him. But: Jensen spots stray time blocks like ‘study’ and ‘review’ here and there. Could it be that Padalecki wisened up? Did he maybe find someone willing to mend the holes he ripped into his very first semester like the goddamn idiot he is? ‘Lunch with S’, ‘gym with S’—who the fuck is this ‘S’??
“Sorry, I’m late for 4C, can’t. Maybe another time.”
Jared shrugs and Jensen halfheartedly tells him that it’s okay, sure, and it’s so…fucking bizarre, to have the tables turned on him like that. That Jensen is now the one ogling and salivating and scrambling to dissect Jared’s scent from afar (his own bed). That all Jared has to do is take off his shirt and wipe his armpits dry, smelling like he just pulled out of someone (and breathing and beaming like it, too) for Jensen to bunch his blanket in his fist. To feel it in his stomach how fucking—potent Jared’s blood is pumping through him, still. A faint chub to his dick, very much unmasked in his shorts. No underwear, as far as Jensen can tell. He’s yet to see Jared in underwear. He might just not have brought any. Or his groupies stole them. Well. Easier access, Jensen guesses.
Jared leaves for his appointment and Jensen is left behind to his own devices, now flushed and angry that he’ll steal that damn shirt from Jared’s laundry pile and cuddle with it for a moment… Ah, he can’t even do that, his scent would rub off on it and give him away… God, no, wait, what is he thinking?
Jensen decides to be sensible and strong and dives back into his last reading to do. Classical music because that helps, they say, earbuds and…at some point, even through the earbuds, he can hear…
Oh, ew.
Seriously?
Jensen grumbles and straightens in his bed, propped up against pillow and wall. He glares to his right—he swears he can even smell them. 4C, that should be, what, six walls? Ridiculous.
Well. At least someone’s enjoying themselves tonight.
~
There are mornings you wake up and know exactly what you have to do. Today, for Jensen, this is one of those mornings.
No matter what—he has to set things right.
If Jared has lost interest in him by now? Fine. Jensen won’t push it. He just wants them to be able to talk again.
The look on Jared’s face when he returns at night for what Jensen assumes can’t be much more than a pit stop (which he’ll gladly take, that’s cool, that’s fine) tells Jensen that he might have gone a little…overboard though.
Jared opens his mouth but doesn’t get anything out.
Jensen scoots a little forward on his bed, sweaty hands on his jeans-clad thighs, in the hopes that he will block the view of the candles on the nightstand.
“So, uh. I’ve been—a jackass.”
Jared’s brows rise higher on his forehead. Jensen watches those eyes flickering to the takeout bag with Jared’s favorite burger and fries, the obviously-cleaned surfaces of their barely-shared-anymore space. Back to Jensen.
A careful step further into the room.
“Uh. Okay?”
“Not okay, actually,” continues Jensen, and Jared’s hand lifts off that doorknob finally to scratch up the back of his neck and into his messy hair, and he—God, he just smells real good. Like sweat and spunk and fuck, no, focus, Ackles, focus…! “I was being horrible to you, and I’m sorry.”
“So you did all of…this?” Jared gestures between them. Jensen’s face heats. “That’s not necessary, man, I—”
“No, at least listen to me before you tell me to fuck off.”
Jared exhales sharply but deflates further. This is the most attention Jensen’s been getting in weeks and he’ll make the best of it. Okay. Okay, you got this.
“Look, Jared—I’ve thought about this back and forth, and I like you. I really like you. A lot.” (Jared’s expression changes but Jensen can’t look too closely or he’ll stop talking.) “So—it’s not a secret I’m completely inept when it comes to this type of crap, so bear with me here, but I—I tried just shutting it off like I always did, but this time, I couldn’t. I couldn’t get you out of my head, out of my goddamn nose, out of my…! I tried, let me tell you, I tried my best, but…!” (Finally, Jensen dares to really look at the young Alpha in front of him. Ah, God. Yeah, those eyes. Those damn eyes.) Jensen’s sigh is tight in his throat. “So, if you don’t wanna talk to me anymore, I get that, I’ll respect that. But I thought you should know. That I like you. And stuff.”
Jared just…fucking stands there. And breathes.
Jensen sighs again. Smacks his own thighs.
Jensen shrugs. He has to keep talking or he’ll start bawling… “I got you your favorite food, in case you want a bite before you take off again.”
Thanks to his abnormally long legs, Jared has crossed the distance between the two of them with three steps, and the next thing Jensen knows is they’re kissing and Jared’s hands cradle his face and he cradles Jared’s and Jensen’s whole fucking body just—aches.
God, it fucking hurts.
Jared murmurs, “You mean that? All of that?” His eyes search Jensen’s face. Jensen cringes and reddens further, but nods. Jared looks like he hurts, too.
They kiss again.
And then some more.
It should feel weirder after being apart for so long. After believing that it’s over, you’re never gonna get that again—just to strip the guy out of his shirt, getting kissed and kissing him and hauling and holding and pressing and pulling—Jared. Jared’s skin, Jared’s hair; Jared. It’s as fluent as breathing and Jared groans louder than Jensen does when he joins their bodies like it’s never been different, like there never was—
Banging on the door.
Jared barks, “WHAT?!” over his shoulder.
Oh, Jensen can smell who that is. No way, honey, not tonight. “GO FIND STEPHEN!”
“What? Wait, seriously? Jared, what the fuck!”
Jensen adds, “HE’S BUSY,” and Jared turns back to face him and they hold an impatient gaze for about two seconds before Jared pushes on, makes Jensen gasp and fall back into the pillows, makes him pull his knees higher. There is more complaining outside of the door but they don’t knock again so fuck that, who fucking cares.
Jensen’s hands worm up Jared’s chest. Up his throat and they cup Jared’s face, and Jared watches intently, his eyes clear and dark and wide in the candlelight.
“You weren’t joking when you said you mean it, huh?”
“I can be—territorial,” gulps Jensen. Licks his own lip. Lets Jared open him up slow and warm. Their bodies remember what to do just fine. Jensen hums. Kisses that chin. “Wasn’t joking. None of it.”
Jared kisses him again.
The earlier pain has worn off and leaves Jensen with something…else. Something deeper. Scarier.
Something better.
“I like you. I like you so freaking much…” Jensen groans as Jared speeds up. He winds his arms around Jared’s shoulders so he can tuck his face away just like Jared does it against his neck right now. “Fuck, I… I missed you so fucking much.”
“I’ll stop…”
“You—no, wh—?”
“With the RA crap,” specifies Jared, thank GOD. “Fuck, I can’t keep—I can’t keep doing that, I don’t wanna do that…!”
“I thought you—” (Jensen blinks. Jared doesn’t stop moving but kisses Jensen’s neck, kisses him everywhere) “—I, I thought you enjoyed it, wouldn’t any Alpha…?”
Jared says, “Not the same,” and pushes them apart just enough for Jensen to see his face when he says it. “There’s nothing I want that isn’t you.”
Jensen gives him a long, concerned look. But Jared keeps it up, keeps rocking them together. He means it. You know he means it. Everything about him screams that.
Well. Okay. All right.
Jensen gasps hard enough for Jared to startle.
“I—what?”
“Oh my God. S. Stephen!”
“I—what??”
Jensen exclaims, “You went for coffee with Stephen,” and fortunately, Jared kisses him again so Jensen doesn’t go into detail about how much of a jealous psycho he can be if provoked…apparently. Ah. Nah, that’s something for another day.
~ Epilogue ~
It’s a slow twenty minutes when Jensen’s phone buzzes, so the temptation to pick it up wins him over easily. It’s Jared, of course. It’s always Jared.
J: oh my god my brain is too full
J: so much caffeine babe
J: you sure you can’t step in for me? they’d never know…
Jensen gives a mean and bitter laugh in the intimacy of his private office. He types a not any less mean reply; his free hand flinches to his belly under the desk. Twins are getting rowdy. Jensen will gladly take that pee break.
A pleading look and a sigh for the clock: two more hours to go. Gus knocks and lets himself in and exchanges the weekly report for a checkup task Jensen needs him to do until Wednesday. The Beta nods and smiles and goes back to work. Jensen gives a last glance at his phone: another crying emoji from Jared.
Well, yeah, Bachelor’s thesis ain’t no joke. Jensen remembers that all-too-well. But Jared’s almost done. And, opposed to Jensen, he has no ambition to stay in school any longer. Already got a job lined up and everything.
You: there there
You: we’ll do the thing you love so much when you come home tonight
Jensen bites his lip and smiles, puts his phone away for good without waiting for Jared’s reply. Still a lot to do before he can call it a day; he doesn’t sext on the clock. Jared knows that. Dirty move from Jensen. He’s aware. Welp, gotta keep the mateship spicy, they say.
Jensen stretches his arms over his head before he submits to his bladder’s needs and gets up to make his way to the restrooms. He remembers that, shit, actually, they’re having a zoom call with their realtor tonight…! Better get another coffee so Jensen will actually be conscious for his mate past that appointment to keep his promise.
Jensen sighs and rubs his stomach as he waits by the coffee machine, peers out the window that overlooks the city, the busy rush hour traffic down below. Jensen sighs again and smiles. The coffee dribbles into his cup.
Could be worse, he thinks.