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insane_songbirdFIRE IN THE HOLE 1/6
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Words: 4,622
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
candygramme
Disclaimer: There is absolutely no truth to this and I am not earning a penny.
Warnings: violence, adult, language, political themes, homophobia
Summary: At seventeen and growing up in a white supremacist camp, Jared's life is going nowhere fast. He doesn't feel like he belongs, but sees no way out - until the arrival of a new member shakes things up in the paramilitary group. Jared doesn't know whether he should be intrigued or afraid of Jensen Ackles, but when he gets caught in the power play around him coming to a head, he's left with little choice in the matter.
Part One
Jared didn’t like the gatherings. Actually, Jared didn’t really like anything that put everybody or even most of them in one place. He tried to stay in the back and hunched down a little so he wouldn’t draw attention to himself as the men talked. Of course, he was one of them, or at least he was when they wanted him to be, but Jared didn’t mind being left out, preferred it actually.
They were waiting for Malcolm to return from the airport, where he was supposed to pick up some brother of the cause or something. Jared had helped cleaning out the stuff from one of the cabins that had been empty since John Lee had been sent to prison by the “liberal pigs”.
When the car finally pulled up, Jared felt his mouth go dry. A new face only meant one more guy to be careful around. He should have felt at home here, should be part of the group and one of the guys, strong and confident like his dad. But he wasn’t, and he felt his father’s disappointment and anger every day.
He watched the car’s doors open and saw Malcolm get out with a grin on his face that was quite smug. Behind the metal hood of the car he saw a head of short brown hair rising followed by broad shoulders covered in a green military parka. When the man turned, he was a lot younger than Jared expected, closer to his age than that of most of the other men around, and there was a one-sided smirk on too-feminine lips. Jared’s eyes flipped from the new guy to the men gathered around and back, and he hoped the young man knew what he was doing. He was too pretty for his own good, green eyes, and freckles, and high cheekbones, and Jared knew that he would have to prove himself double to not get his ass handed to him by the hyenas. He could already hear the fag-jokes in his head, knew them too well.
The man walked towards the group with a confident stride, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, smirk unwavering. Malcolm hurried to keep up and make the first introductions. “Jensen, this is Clay Cooper.”
Clay was the boss around here and in his late fifties. He had a beer-fed pot belly, and arms the width of some people’s thighs. Jared knew that when the men shook hands, Clay would press too hard, trying to show Jensen – what kind of name was that anyway? – that he’d got the stronger grip. Jared was a little impressed when the newcomer didn’t flinch, only adding a slightly amused twinkle to his eyes.
“Honor meetin’ you, Sir.” He had a distinct Texan accent that Jared knew only too well, and his voice was deeper than would be expected and a little rough around the edges.
Slate grey eyes moved over Jensen’s face with a curious expression, and then Clay nodded, a smile of his own coloring dry lips as he inclined his head towards the community house they were standing in front of. “Let’s go inside, shall we?”
Jensen no-last-name only nodded and followed the older man inside, and Jared would have liked to take the opportunity to slink away into oblivion once more, but he caught hard blue eyes, and the expression on his father’s face left no room for discussion. He swallowed down the sigh that threatened to bubble up and followed the other men inside.
- -
“Did you watch the news, honey?”
Chewing his food and swallowing it slowly before he answered, JD looked at his wife across the dinner table. “Not really. Why?”
“The Texan state's attorney announced that they decided to charge those separatists that were arrested with terrorism charges as well as the illegal guns they found. The newspeople said that they found plans for bombs and even some chemicals in that camp. Can you imagine that?”
She shook her head with a sigh, honey colored curls brushing her shoulders. She was younger than him, significantly so, and every morning when he woke up, he'd ask himself how he managed to score a wife like that. Then he was reminded that it had been her doing the hunting.
“I know you followed that case closely. I guess you wished that Clay and his guys could go away like that.”
JD had lived in this town all of his life, and ever since he could remember there had been crazy people camping a few miles into the woods. At first they were called survivalists, then militia and now the term white nationalists was the politically correct name for them. No matter the label, Jeffrey Dean didn't like them.
“Not if that means that those crazies are building bombs in their basements.”
He was closing in on his twentieth anniversary with the sheriff's department where he had started as the greenest deputy in town, who everybody just called JD, and somehow ended up as Sheriff Morgan along the way. This was his department now, his town to keep the peace in, and whenever he thought about the Brotherhood of Faithful Americans – because that's what they called themselves – there was a mixture of weariness and annoyance in his stomach.
They weren't good news, never had been. Some of the Brothers ended up in prison for diverse charges from minor incidents, and violent outbursts to federal automatic gun charges. But somehow the camp always stayed where it was: a sore on JD's back.
“That's a scary thought.” She frowned eating a piece of carrot, chewing it more thoroughly than necessary. “So, when is your next poker game coming up?”
Bless her for knowing when to change the subject.
- -
There was a seat in the back that he liked to occupy, and nobody even spared him a glance when he walked there and dropped into it, several yards away from everybody else. If things went okay, all he had to do was be present and watch.
“What was your name again, boy?” Clay stood at the head of the room waving at Eva to bring something to drink – a rather futile thing really since she was already busy doing just that and only nodded at him to confirm that she was on her way.
“Jensen Ross Ackles, Sir.”
“You’re from Texas, right?”
“Yes, Sir.” Despite his abundant use of polite addresses, Jensen Ross Ackles didn’t even blink as the usual interrogation began. In fact, he was standing at his full height, which must be pretty close to Jared’s own six foot two, shoulders squared and hands resting on the small of his back in what Jared recognized as the at-ease stance of a trained soldier. Something cold dropped into his stomach. If the guy was a former soldier, Jared had to be even more careful around him.
“My nephew Jason spoke very highly of you, said you were a good man of the right mind.”
“So is he.” Ackles took the praise without batting a single eyelash. “I’m very sorry about his dismal circumstances.”
“We all are… You were lucky though, weren’t you?” Jared watched as Clay’s eyes narrowed in a dangerous manner.
“Luck had little to do with it, Sir. I was in Las Cruces that week on business for the cause when the pigs unlawfully took our property and made their infamous accusations.” Ackles’ green eyes went hard as stone as he stared down at Clay with a face of detestation at the matters they were discussing. He was daring the older man to challenge him, and Jared wondered for a moment if he would get what was coming to him. Instead Clay just nodded with a satisfied look on his face and grabbed the beer Eva held out for him. He changed the subject without another word.
“Jason tells me you served?”
“Yes, Sir. Army Rangers, two tours in Iraq. Came back while ago.”
Clay hummed swallowing a mouthful of beer. “What brought you to see the right path then?”
Jensen smiled at the woman as he accepted his own bottle and nodded at her with a show of southern gentleman manners few around here had. “I gave them five years of my life, and all I got was a boot to the ass and a medical discharge.”
Several voices started up voicing understanding and outrage, and Jared tried to not look like he cared. Honestly, it must suck to just get cast away like that, but obviously Ackles was lacking judgement if he thought that the Brothers were the right place to turn. Jared would do pretty much anything to get away, even join the military.
Watching Jensen Ackles revealed that he was less of a sissy than the first impression led Jared to think, and the way he held himself, his movement and expressions took away most of the girly feel that his delicate features exhibited. The man had a strong jaw and well muscled abs that were visible when he pulled off his jacket. There was a tattoo on his arm that declared the company he had served in, and Jared wondered if he also smoked like a factory and spit on the ground just to finish off the tough guy image.
Jared detested this guy’s sort, especially when his father threw him a dirty look that conveyed just how disappointed the man was that Jared couldn’t be more like that. Even though Jared had come to terms with the fact that he would never quite fit in a while ago, his father’s disregard still stung every time. In his head Jared could easily map out the exact moments his life had changed.
The first turning point was when his mother had left, packing up his siblings in a screaming match that ended with blood dripping from her nose, and a vase smacked over his father’s temple. Jared, eleven years old, had begged her to take him with them, had cried when she pried his fingers away and looked at him with wide haunted eyes. The moment she shook her head, he could feel his whole life break apart, crumble like a castle built of sand.
He hadn’t understood what she saw that made her push him away and into the house as she slammed the door behind her, toddler on her arm and one single bag in hand. Only two years later he started to understand when he looked into the mirror and for the first time saw that he looked just like his father.
The second turning point was shortly before Jared’s fourteenth birthday, when his father had declared the whole world their enemy – while Jared knew that the only enemies they had were single malt whiskey and his father’s inability to see his own mistakes, to admit when he was wrong. He had sold the house and everything in it and pulled Jared out of school. When the boy was dragged to the truck by his arm he was trying to make the madness stop, but the only thing that stopped was his speech when his head collided with the frame of the car, because he was “too damn clumsy for his own good”.
That was when they had come here and found their new ‘family’ with the Brothers. The only problem with it all was that Jared didn’t want a new family, didn’t even really want his old family, since all they’d given him over the years were heartache and bruises. Still he tried to fit in, tried to be a good son, a good little soldier…
It all came crashing down one year later, when the last turning point was reached. Jared had been insecure about himself for a while, had been wondering and thinking since he had entered puberty. He knew that he felt something that he shouldn’t feel, and he knew that he would get in trouble if his dad ever found out. He had tried to change, tried to look at girls and feel the way he sometimes did when watching guys but had failed fundamentally. He had come to terms with it slowly and unwillingly, and sometimes he wondered if he wasn’t misjudging things, if he was giving people less credit than they deserved… then his dad found a drawing that he thought inappropriate, gay.
Jared could still feel the memory of pain when he recalled the snap as his arm broke, and that was when he knew that he could never tell, could never be himself. It was when he started to think about his new family as “them,” because there was no “us”, no “we” in a place where he would probably die under the boots of the men around him if he ever told them who and what he was.
“Jared! C’mere, boy!”
He raised his head, mind snapping out of the thoughts that haunted him, and he got up swiftly to walk over to where his father and Clay stood next to the new member of their band of merry men.
“Yes, Sir?” He only nodded at the green-eyed man, who looked at him with a curious expression.
“Show Jensen to the cabin, will you? Help him get settled.” It wasn’t a request but an order, and Jared knew that very well, so he nodded at his father as his teeth ground together. He looked at the newcomer with an expectant gaze and was a little dumbstruck when the man gave him a blinding smile before cocking his head towards the door and walking out once more, carrying the duffel bag over his shoulder.
Jared followed, mouth suddenly dry and breaths coming a little too fast. Jensen might easily have been the most attractive man Jared had ever seen, and he could feel panic swell in his chest at the implication of this for his future life here. If he couldn’t keep himself in check, this man might be the death of him, and that was not just a phrase.
They stepped outside where evening was already upon them and the older of the two men held out his hand with a grin. “Hey, I’m Jensen. We haven’t been introduced.”
Jared tried not to show the utter panic that coursed through his head as he forced a smile in return, hand clasping around Jensen’s. He could feel the calluses of handy work under his fingertips and swallowed. “Jared.”
“You’re Jake’s son?” It looked like the man was trying to strike up conversation, but Jared only nodded mutely gesturing down the small gravel road to the right. He started walking, and the older man fell into stride with Jared’s long legs easily.
“How old are you Jared?” It was a rather safe thing to ask and Jared was thankful that the man didn't seem bothered about dropping his first topic.
“Seventeen… You?”
“Twenty-six.” A low chuckle made goosebumps form on Jared’s skin and he was glad it was chilly out and he wasn't wearing a jacket so it wouldn’t be suspicious. “That kinda makes me feel old.”
“Why's that?” Jared didn’t plan on making conversation with the man, shouldn’t really plan to do anything with him, but his manners and curiosity got the better of him.
“You look hardly younger than me… but seventeen? That feels like a lifetime ago.”
It probably was for someone who had already been to fight in a foreign country twice in the meantime. “Is it so different now?”
Jensen shrugged and Jared couldn’t see his expression too well in the growing shadows of the evening. “I suppose. I enrolled when I was eighteen, spent 5 years running through deserts and crawling through mud. I dunno if I changed that much… but I sure as hell ain’t as scrawny as I was back then.”
Jared snorted a laugh at that, imagining what Jensen Ackles would look like seventeen years old and scrawny. The image was the incarnation of jailbait and was, on the one hand uncomfortably interesting, but, on on the other, kind of ridiculous when he looked at the man today, muscled, and tattooed and anything but scrawny. He should probably not laugh about the whole thing, since many people would call Jared jailbait too, and he was anything but hunky with his too long limbs and still growing metabolism. He was tall, but his dad was practically a giant, and Jared knew that he could still count on 2 or 3 more inches over the coming years.
Thankfully the other man just chuckled along with that too deep voice, and Jared’s own laughter got stuck in his throat as the sound trickled down his spine.
They reached the cabin within a few minutes, and Jared gestured to Jensen to open the door when he stopped in front of it. “This is it.”
Jensen nodded with a smile, eyes skimming over his new home for a moment before pursing his lips in thought. “Great. Let’s see the inside then.”
He hopped up the two steps to the door, turning the knob and letting the wood swing away. Jared had already opened his mouth to say his goodbyes when Jensen turned on the threshold with raised eyebrows. “What’re you waiting for?”
Jared knew he should make up an excuse to just leave and ignore both his dad’s order to help Jensen out and Jensen’s expectant look. Instead he was already moving, and through the door by the time that thought struck. Jensen closed the door behind him and threw his duffel into the corner of the deeply shadowed room.
“Where’s the light switch around here?” Jared moved along the wall, pretty sure he knew where the switch was, feeling along it with his hand. He heard Jensen shuffle about, obviously having the same idea and staggered as a hard body bumped into him at the exact moment his fingers found the switch.
As Jared let out a surprised yelp that got even more surprised when, instead of stumbling into the room, a pair of muscled arms slipped around his waist and pulled him against a body that felt way too perfect next to his to be good. Jared was panting without having really exerted himself, eyes wide and looking into green eyes that suddenly seemed too close. The light flickered as Jared’s hand twitched against the switch.
He swallowed, frozen to the spot, and it took him a moment to realize that one of his hands were fisted into the front of Jensen’s shirt, while the man still held him close.
“Sorry… I’m a klutz. Are you okay?”
Jared blinked, swallowing around the lump that had built in his throat but nodded, pulling his hand away as if burned. “Yes, I’m… fine.”
For a moment that was just long enough to be awkward, Jensen’s arms stayed around his waist, and they were pressed together with Jared’s hands hovering awkwardly in the air between them. Then Jensen’s eyes dropped in an awkwardly shy motion, and the man cleared his throat, letting go of Jared who was thankful for the wall behind him, or he might have face-planted after all. There was a soft blush on Jensen’s cheeks, and Jared was pretty sure he was red as a tomato but too happy that Jensen hadn’t hit him in the face for that not so manly moment to be bothered by it all.
They stood silently for a moment until Jensen cleared his throat, letting his eyes skim over the cabin’s now illuminated inside. “So anything I should know?”
Jared’s heart stopped, and a slightly strangled sound could be heard as panic flared up in him once more. “What?” Jensen didn’t really expect him to admit to anything, could he? He couldn’t have noticed just how turned on Jared got from just being pressed against that perfect body.
“Leaky pipes, rats, exploding toilet seats… you know, the usual quirks of an older house?” The smirk on Jensen’s face made Jared’s heart thump a bit harder but he attributed it solely to Jensen finding enjoyment in his own joke rather than knowing just what Jared had thought he asked for.
The relief was palpable, and Jared shook his head vehemently. “None that I know of… there’s a small bedroom through that door, and a bathroom adjoining. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
Jared was already on his way back to the door, in need of getting out of there soon, before Jensen made all his higher brain functions disappear, because he would probably shoot him in the head if he’d notice the boner straining Jared’s pants from their short contact.
“Erm, yeah, okay. Thanks Jared.” Jensen seemed a little surprised at his quick retreat, but otherwise unbothered, and Jared was happy enough with that to stagger out with an awkward wave before throwing the door closed behind him.
Jared walked home fast, slipping inside through the kitchen door, and after a moment’s hesitation opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. He walked into the living room where his dad was in his usual spot on the couch and set the bottle wordlessly next to a nearly empty one on the low table.
His dad only grunted in acknowledgement, not raising his eyes to his son, and Jared took the lack of words as a welcome dismissal. He went into the small room that was his and stripped out of his clothes. It was still early, and the sun had only just set, but he was confident that nobody would miss him for the rest of the evening, so he slipped into bed, pulling the sheets up over his body and turning away from the door just in case. When his hand slipped inside his boxers he bit his lip to stop the moan from escaping.
His face flushed red with embarrassment and need as he stroked himself roughly to the memory of Jensen’s arms around his waist, laughing eyes directed at him. He came with a sob escaping his lips and bit down hard enough to taste blood and make a tear leak out of his eye.
He was going to hell.
Jared did their laundry, and it was good in a way, because at least he didn’t have to worry about stained sheets and sticky boxers. He was leaning against the porch-fence of the laundry house, waiting for the machine he had loaded up a while ago to finish. His fingers played with the edges of the science book’s pages he was reading. It wasn’t his favorite subject, but at least he tried to get some of it even though it didn’t really matter.
“Hey, Jared.”
He looked up eyes growing wide and mind grinding to a halt as he saw Jensen walking towards him with a swagger in his hips and hands in his pockets. The man was smiling softly and hopped up the stairs to the porch.
“What’re you reading?”
“Natural Sciences.” He held up the book to show its blue cover with the yellow sketch of an atom on the front.
Jensen raised his eyebrows in what Jared hoped to be an impressed look. “Wow, most kids your age wouldn’t be found reading that in school.”
Jared shrugged, embarrassed at being found a nerd within two days of knowing the man and dropped his eyes back to the book. He expected Jensen to make a mean comment or just brush him off and walk away, but instead he startled when the man dropped onto the wooden planks next to him.
“It’s Monday. Why aren’t you at school if you like studying so much?”
To be honest, Jared didn’t like studying all that much. It was okay and sometimes even fun when the subject caught his attention, but more often than not, he found himself frustrated when he didn’t get something at the first try. Sciences weren’t his cup of tea, especially physics, but he still tried to at least get the basics. It wasn’t like he wanted to win the Nobel Price or anything. Most people here didn’t give a crap if he knew higher mathematics or sonly just managed to count to twelve.
But Jared cared. He knew that he wasn’t much of anything, and all he had managed in his life so far was being too-tall white trash. Maybe one day, not being a complete tool might change that. Or maybe he was busting his ass for nothing.
“I’m not going. We’re being home schooled.”
Jensen looked at him quizzically for a moment then shrugged whatever bothered him off. “Cool… who’s the teacher?”
Once more Jared lifted his book, smiling sheepishly at the other man. “Maria does the home-schooling for the smaller kids, but I’m the only one here of high school age, so I just read the materials myself.”
“That’s very clever of you. I doubt I would have had the discipline to actually do that without someone busting my ass into gear.” It was said with a grin rather than a sneer, and Jared felt the knot that had formed in his chest loosen up a little. “What’s your favorite subject?”
“Arts”, he said without thinking then berated himself that he wasn’t fourteen any more. “I mean… It’s not really a subject. I just like doing it. English is pretty good too though.”
Jensen had the decency to just laugh at Jared’s disjointed answer, bumping his shoulder against the teen’s. “I know an art teacher who would have skinned you for that comment, dude.”
He couldn’t help smiling at the astonishingly well-tempered man. “Well, it’s just something I like, but it’s not really good for anything, is it?”
“If you like it then that’s good enough.”
Jared frowned at his book for a moment, wondering why Jensen was being nice to him and was actually choosing his company, when the real men were probably more than happy to be his buddies. They could drink beer, or hunt things, or talk about the cause. Pretty much any of that was probably more interesting than talking to Jared about his lack of schooling.
They were quiet for a while, and Jared didn’t know if it was a comfortable quiet or an awkward one. It made him fidget, until he closed the book with a sigh, looking at Jensen once more. “What was your favorite subject in school?”
It was a stupid question to ask, silly really, since the man had probably just been making senseless small talk with him anyway. But Jensen shrugged, snagging the book out of Jared’s grasp and starting to leaf through it with a smirk.
“Chemistry.”
“Really?” Jared watched calloused fingers turn the pages with precise movements. He hadn’t taken the man for a science geek. Jensen looked up from the book, winking at Jared in a way that made the teen drop his hands into his lap to hide the embarrassing effect that had on him.
“I just like blowing shit up.”
Jared froze, torn between the way that cheeky smirk and wink made his insides turn into a warm gooey mess, and the way his chest tightened, and a cold lob of ice formed in his stomach at the implications of Jensen’s words. Oh, shit.
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Words: 4,622
Beta:
candygrammeDisclaimer: There is absolutely no truth to this and I am not earning a penny.
Warnings: violence, adult, language, political themes, homophobia
Summary: At seventeen and growing up in a white supremacist camp, Jared's life is going nowhere fast. He doesn't feel like he belongs, but sees no way out - until the arrival of a new member shakes things up in the paramilitary group. Jared doesn't know whether he should be intrigued or afraid of Jensen Ackles, but when he gets caught in the power play around him coming to a head, he's left with little choice in the matter.
Part One
Jared didn’t like the gatherings. Actually, Jared didn’t really like anything that put everybody or even most of them in one place. He tried to stay in the back and hunched down a little so he wouldn’t draw attention to himself as the men talked. Of course, he was one of them, or at least he was when they wanted him to be, but Jared didn’t mind being left out, preferred it actually.
They were waiting for Malcolm to return from the airport, where he was supposed to pick up some brother of the cause or something. Jared had helped cleaning out the stuff from one of the cabins that had been empty since John Lee had been sent to prison by the “liberal pigs”.
When the car finally pulled up, Jared felt his mouth go dry. A new face only meant one more guy to be careful around. He should have felt at home here, should be part of the group and one of the guys, strong and confident like his dad. But he wasn’t, and he felt his father’s disappointment and anger every day.
He watched the car’s doors open and saw Malcolm get out with a grin on his face that was quite smug. Behind the metal hood of the car he saw a head of short brown hair rising followed by broad shoulders covered in a green military parka. When the man turned, he was a lot younger than Jared expected, closer to his age than that of most of the other men around, and there was a one-sided smirk on too-feminine lips. Jared’s eyes flipped from the new guy to the men gathered around and back, and he hoped the young man knew what he was doing. He was too pretty for his own good, green eyes, and freckles, and high cheekbones, and Jared knew that he would have to prove himself double to not get his ass handed to him by the hyenas. He could already hear the fag-jokes in his head, knew them too well.
The man walked towards the group with a confident stride, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, smirk unwavering. Malcolm hurried to keep up and make the first introductions. “Jensen, this is Clay Cooper.”
Clay was the boss around here and in his late fifties. He had a beer-fed pot belly, and arms the width of some people’s thighs. Jared knew that when the men shook hands, Clay would press too hard, trying to show Jensen – what kind of name was that anyway? – that he’d got the stronger grip. Jared was a little impressed when the newcomer didn’t flinch, only adding a slightly amused twinkle to his eyes.
“Honor meetin’ you, Sir.” He had a distinct Texan accent that Jared knew only too well, and his voice was deeper than would be expected and a little rough around the edges.
Slate grey eyes moved over Jensen’s face with a curious expression, and then Clay nodded, a smile of his own coloring dry lips as he inclined his head towards the community house they were standing in front of. “Let’s go inside, shall we?”
Jensen no-last-name only nodded and followed the older man inside, and Jared would have liked to take the opportunity to slink away into oblivion once more, but he caught hard blue eyes, and the expression on his father’s face left no room for discussion. He swallowed down the sigh that threatened to bubble up and followed the other men inside.
- -
“Did you watch the news, honey?”
Chewing his food and swallowing it slowly before he answered, JD looked at his wife across the dinner table. “Not really. Why?”
“The Texan state's attorney announced that they decided to charge those separatists that were arrested with terrorism charges as well as the illegal guns they found. The newspeople said that they found plans for bombs and even some chemicals in that camp. Can you imagine that?”
She shook her head with a sigh, honey colored curls brushing her shoulders. She was younger than him, significantly so, and every morning when he woke up, he'd ask himself how he managed to score a wife like that. Then he was reminded that it had been her doing the hunting.
“I know you followed that case closely. I guess you wished that Clay and his guys could go away like that.”
JD had lived in this town all of his life, and ever since he could remember there had been crazy people camping a few miles into the woods. At first they were called survivalists, then militia and now the term white nationalists was the politically correct name for them. No matter the label, Jeffrey Dean didn't like them.
“Not if that means that those crazies are building bombs in their basements.”
He was closing in on his twentieth anniversary with the sheriff's department where he had started as the greenest deputy in town, who everybody just called JD, and somehow ended up as Sheriff Morgan along the way. This was his department now, his town to keep the peace in, and whenever he thought about the Brotherhood of Faithful Americans – because that's what they called themselves – there was a mixture of weariness and annoyance in his stomach.
They weren't good news, never had been. Some of the Brothers ended up in prison for diverse charges from minor incidents, and violent outbursts to federal automatic gun charges. But somehow the camp always stayed where it was: a sore on JD's back.
“That's a scary thought.” She frowned eating a piece of carrot, chewing it more thoroughly than necessary. “So, when is your next poker game coming up?”
Bless her for knowing when to change the subject.
- -
There was a seat in the back that he liked to occupy, and nobody even spared him a glance when he walked there and dropped into it, several yards away from everybody else. If things went okay, all he had to do was be present and watch.
“What was your name again, boy?” Clay stood at the head of the room waving at Eva to bring something to drink – a rather futile thing really since she was already busy doing just that and only nodded at him to confirm that she was on her way.
“Jensen Ross Ackles, Sir.”
“You’re from Texas, right?”
“Yes, Sir.” Despite his abundant use of polite addresses, Jensen Ross Ackles didn’t even blink as the usual interrogation began. In fact, he was standing at his full height, which must be pretty close to Jared’s own six foot two, shoulders squared and hands resting on the small of his back in what Jared recognized as the at-ease stance of a trained soldier. Something cold dropped into his stomach. If the guy was a former soldier, Jared had to be even more careful around him.
“My nephew Jason spoke very highly of you, said you were a good man of the right mind.”
“So is he.” Ackles took the praise without batting a single eyelash. “I’m very sorry about his dismal circumstances.”
“We all are… You were lucky though, weren’t you?” Jared watched as Clay’s eyes narrowed in a dangerous manner.
“Luck had little to do with it, Sir. I was in Las Cruces that week on business for the cause when the pigs unlawfully took our property and made their infamous accusations.” Ackles’ green eyes went hard as stone as he stared down at Clay with a face of detestation at the matters they were discussing. He was daring the older man to challenge him, and Jared wondered for a moment if he would get what was coming to him. Instead Clay just nodded with a satisfied look on his face and grabbed the beer Eva held out for him. He changed the subject without another word.
“Jason tells me you served?”
“Yes, Sir. Army Rangers, two tours in Iraq. Came back while ago.”
Clay hummed swallowing a mouthful of beer. “What brought you to see the right path then?”
Jensen smiled at the woman as he accepted his own bottle and nodded at her with a show of southern gentleman manners few around here had. “I gave them five years of my life, and all I got was a boot to the ass and a medical discharge.”
Several voices started up voicing understanding and outrage, and Jared tried to not look like he cared. Honestly, it must suck to just get cast away like that, but obviously Ackles was lacking judgement if he thought that the Brothers were the right place to turn. Jared would do pretty much anything to get away, even join the military.
Watching Jensen Ackles revealed that he was less of a sissy than the first impression led Jared to think, and the way he held himself, his movement and expressions took away most of the girly feel that his delicate features exhibited. The man had a strong jaw and well muscled abs that were visible when he pulled off his jacket. There was a tattoo on his arm that declared the company he had served in, and Jared wondered if he also smoked like a factory and spit on the ground just to finish off the tough guy image.
Jared detested this guy’s sort, especially when his father threw him a dirty look that conveyed just how disappointed the man was that Jared couldn’t be more like that. Even though Jared had come to terms with the fact that he would never quite fit in a while ago, his father’s disregard still stung every time. In his head Jared could easily map out the exact moments his life had changed.
The first turning point was when his mother had left, packing up his siblings in a screaming match that ended with blood dripping from her nose, and a vase smacked over his father’s temple. Jared, eleven years old, had begged her to take him with them, had cried when she pried his fingers away and looked at him with wide haunted eyes. The moment she shook her head, he could feel his whole life break apart, crumble like a castle built of sand.
He hadn’t understood what she saw that made her push him away and into the house as she slammed the door behind her, toddler on her arm and one single bag in hand. Only two years later he started to understand when he looked into the mirror and for the first time saw that he looked just like his father.
The second turning point was shortly before Jared’s fourteenth birthday, when his father had declared the whole world their enemy – while Jared knew that the only enemies they had were single malt whiskey and his father’s inability to see his own mistakes, to admit when he was wrong. He had sold the house and everything in it and pulled Jared out of school. When the boy was dragged to the truck by his arm he was trying to make the madness stop, but the only thing that stopped was his speech when his head collided with the frame of the car, because he was “too damn clumsy for his own good”.
That was when they had come here and found their new ‘family’ with the Brothers. The only problem with it all was that Jared didn’t want a new family, didn’t even really want his old family, since all they’d given him over the years were heartache and bruises. Still he tried to fit in, tried to be a good son, a good little soldier…
It all came crashing down one year later, when the last turning point was reached. Jared had been insecure about himself for a while, had been wondering and thinking since he had entered puberty. He knew that he felt something that he shouldn’t feel, and he knew that he would get in trouble if his dad ever found out. He had tried to change, tried to look at girls and feel the way he sometimes did when watching guys but had failed fundamentally. He had come to terms with it slowly and unwillingly, and sometimes he wondered if he wasn’t misjudging things, if he was giving people less credit than they deserved… then his dad found a drawing that he thought inappropriate, gay.
Jared could still feel the memory of pain when he recalled the snap as his arm broke, and that was when he knew that he could never tell, could never be himself. It was when he started to think about his new family as “them,” because there was no “us”, no “we” in a place where he would probably die under the boots of the men around him if he ever told them who and what he was.
“Jared! C’mere, boy!”
He raised his head, mind snapping out of the thoughts that haunted him, and he got up swiftly to walk over to where his father and Clay stood next to the new member of their band of merry men.
“Yes, Sir?” He only nodded at the green-eyed man, who looked at him with a curious expression.
“Show Jensen to the cabin, will you? Help him get settled.” It wasn’t a request but an order, and Jared knew that very well, so he nodded at his father as his teeth ground together. He looked at the newcomer with an expectant gaze and was a little dumbstruck when the man gave him a blinding smile before cocking his head towards the door and walking out once more, carrying the duffel bag over his shoulder.
Jared followed, mouth suddenly dry and breaths coming a little too fast. Jensen might easily have been the most attractive man Jared had ever seen, and he could feel panic swell in his chest at the implication of this for his future life here. If he couldn’t keep himself in check, this man might be the death of him, and that was not just a phrase.
They stepped outside where evening was already upon them and the older of the two men held out his hand with a grin. “Hey, I’m Jensen. We haven’t been introduced.”
Jared tried not to show the utter panic that coursed through his head as he forced a smile in return, hand clasping around Jensen’s. He could feel the calluses of handy work under his fingertips and swallowed. “Jared.”
“You’re Jake’s son?” It looked like the man was trying to strike up conversation, but Jared only nodded mutely gesturing down the small gravel road to the right. He started walking, and the older man fell into stride with Jared’s long legs easily.
“How old are you Jared?” It was a rather safe thing to ask and Jared was thankful that the man didn't seem bothered about dropping his first topic.
“Seventeen… You?”
“Twenty-six.” A low chuckle made goosebumps form on Jared’s skin and he was glad it was chilly out and he wasn't wearing a jacket so it wouldn’t be suspicious. “That kinda makes me feel old.”
“Why's that?” Jared didn’t plan on making conversation with the man, shouldn’t really plan to do anything with him, but his manners and curiosity got the better of him.
“You look hardly younger than me… but seventeen? That feels like a lifetime ago.”
It probably was for someone who had already been to fight in a foreign country twice in the meantime. “Is it so different now?”
Jensen shrugged and Jared couldn’t see his expression too well in the growing shadows of the evening. “I suppose. I enrolled when I was eighteen, spent 5 years running through deserts and crawling through mud. I dunno if I changed that much… but I sure as hell ain’t as scrawny as I was back then.”
Jared snorted a laugh at that, imagining what Jensen Ackles would look like seventeen years old and scrawny. The image was the incarnation of jailbait and was, on the one hand uncomfortably interesting, but, on on the other, kind of ridiculous when he looked at the man today, muscled, and tattooed and anything but scrawny. He should probably not laugh about the whole thing, since many people would call Jared jailbait too, and he was anything but hunky with his too long limbs and still growing metabolism. He was tall, but his dad was practically a giant, and Jared knew that he could still count on 2 or 3 more inches over the coming years.
Thankfully the other man just chuckled along with that too deep voice, and Jared’s own laughter got stuck in his throat as the sound trickled down his spine.
They reached the cabin within a few minutes, and Jared gestured to Jensen to open the door when he stopped in front of it. “This is it.”
Jensen nodded with a smile, eyes skimming over his new home for a moment before pursing his lips in thought. “Great. Let’s see the inside then.”
He hopped up the two steps to the door, turning the knob and letting the wood swing away. Jared had already opened his mouth to say his goodbyes when Jensen turned on the threshold with raised eyebrows. “What’re you waiting for?”
Jared knew he should make up an excuse to just leave and ignore both his dad’s order to help Jensen out and Jensen’s expectant look. Instead he was already moving, and through the door by the time that thought struck. Jensen closed the door behind him and threw his duffel into the corner of the deeply shadowed room.
“Where’s the light switch around here?” Jared moved along the wall, pretty sure he knew where the switch was, feeling along it with his hand. He heard Jensen shuffle about, obviously having the same idea and staggered as a hard body bumped into him at the exact moment his fingers found the switch.
As Jared let out a surprised yelp that got even more surprised when, instead of stumbling into the room, a pair of muscled arms slipped around his waist and pulled him against a body that felt way too perfect next to his to be good. Jared was panting without having really exerted himself, eyes wide and looking into green eyes that suddenly seemed too close. The light flickered as Jared’s hand twitched against the switch.
He swallowed, frozen to the spot, and it took him a moment to realize that one of his hands were fisted into the front of Jensen’s shirt, while the man still held him close.
“Sorry… I’m a klutz. Are you okay?”
Jared blinked, swallowing around the lump that had built in his throat but nodded, pulling his hand away as if burned. “Yes, I’m… fine.”
For a moment that was just long enough to be awkward, Jensen’s arms stayed around his waist, and they were pressed together with Jared’s hands hovering awkwardly in the air between them. Then Jensen’s eyes dropped in an awkwardly shy motion, and the man cleared his throat, letting go of Jared who was thankful for the wall behind him, or he might have face-planted after all. There was a soft blush on Jensen’s cheeks, and Jared was pretty sure he was red as a tomato but too happy that Jensen hadn’t hit him in the face for that not so manly moment to be bothered by it all.
They stood silently for a moment until Jensen cleared his throat, letting his eyes skim over the cabin’s now illuminated inside. “So anything I should know?”
Jared’s heart stopped, and a slightly strangled sound could be heard as panic flared up in him once more. “What?” Jensen didn’t really expect him to admit to anything, could he? He couldn’t have noticed just how turned on Jared got from just being pressed against that perfect body.
“Leaky pipes, rats, exploding toilet seats… you know, the usual quirks of an older house?” The smirk on Jensen’s face made Jared’s heart thump a bit harder but he attributed it solely to Jensen finding enjoyment in his own joke rather than knowing just what Jared had thought he asked for.
The relief was palpable, and Jared shook his head vehemently. “None that I know of… there’s a small bedroom through that door, and a bathroom adjoining. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
Jared was already on his way back to the door, in need of getting out of there soon, before Jensen made all his higher brain functions disappear, because he would probably shoot him in the head if he’d notice the boner straining Jared’s pants from their short contact.
“Erm, yeah, okay. Thanks Jared.” Jensen seemed a little surprised at his quick retreat, but otherwise unbothered, and Jared was happy enough with that to stagger out with an awkward wave before throwing the door closed behind him.
Jared walked home fast, slipping inside through the kitchen door, and after a moment’s hesitation opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. He walked into the living room where his dad was in his usual spot on the couch and set the bottle wordlessly next to a nearly empty one on the low table.
His dad only grunted in acknowledgement, not raising his eyes to his son, and Jared took the lack of words as a welcome dismissal. He went into the small room that was his and stripped out of his clothes. It was still early, and the sun had only just set, but he was confident that nobody would miss him for the rest of the evening, so he slipped into bed, pulling the sheets up over his body and turning away from the door just in case. When his hand slipped inside his boxers he bit his lip to stop the moan from escaping.
His face flushed red with embarrassment and need as he stroked himself roughly to the memory of Jensen’s arms around his waist, laughing eyes directed at him. He came with a sob escaping his lips and bit down hard enough to taste blood and make a tear leak out of his eye.
He was going to hell.
Jared did their laundry, and it was good in a way, because at least he didn’t have to worry about stained sheets and sticky boxers. He was leaning against the porch-fence of the laundry house, waiting for the machine he had loaded up a while ago to finish. His fingers played with the edges of the science book’s pages he was reading. It wasn’t his favorite subject, but at least he tried to get some of it even though it didn’t really matter.
“Hey, Jared.”
He looked up eyes growing wide and mind grinding to a halt as he saw Jensen walking towards him with a swagger in his hips and hands in his pockets. The man was smiling softly and hopped up the stairs to the porch.
“What’re you reading?”
“Natural Sciences.” He held up the book to show its blue cover with the yellow sketch of an atom on the front.
Jensen raised his eyebrows in what Jared hoped to be an impressed look. “Wow, most kids your age wouldn’t be found reading that in school.”
Jared shrugged, embarrassed at being found a nerd within two days of knowing the man and dropped his eyes back to the book. He expected Jensen to make a mean comment or just brush him off and walk away, but instead he startled when the man dropped onto the wooden planks next to him.
“It’s Monday. Why aren’t you at school if you like studying so much?”
To be honest, Jared didn’t like studying all that much. It was okay and sometimes even fun when the subject caught his attention, but more often than not, he found himself frustrated when he didn’t get something at the first try. Sciences weren’t his cup of tea, especially physics, but he still tried to at least get the basics. It wasn’t like he wanted to win the Nobel Price or anything. Most people here didn’t give a crap if he knew higher mathematics or sonly just managed to count to twelve.
But Jared cared. He knew that he wasn’t much of anything, and all he had managed in his life so far was being too-tall white trash. Maybe one day, not being a complete tool might change that. Or maybe he was busting his ass for nothing.
“I’m not going. We’re being home schooled.”
Jensen looked at him quizzically for a moment then shrugged whatever bothered him off. “Cool… who’s the teacher?”
Once more Jared lifted his book, smiling sheepishly at the other man. “Maria does the home-schooling for the smaller kids, but I’m the only one here of high school age, so I just read the materials myself.”
“That’s very clever of you. I doubt I would have had the discipline to actually do that without someone busting my ass into gear.” It was said with a grin rather than a sneer, and Jared felt the knot that had formed in his chest loosen up a little. “What’s your favorite subject?”
“Arts”, he said without thinking then berated himself that he wasn’t fourteen any more. “I mean… It’s not really a subject. I just like doing it. English is pretty good too though.”
Jensen had the decency to just laugh at Jared’s disjointed answer, bumping his shoulder against the teen’s. “I know an art teacher who would have skinned you for that comment, dude.”
He couldn’t help smiling at the astonishingly well-tempered man. “Well, it’s just something I like, but it’s not really good for anything, is it?”
“If you like it then that’s good enough.”
Jared frowned at his book for a moment, wondering why Jensen was being nice to him and was actually choosing his company, when the real men were probably more than happy to be his buddies. They could drink beer, or hunt things, or talk about the cause. Pretty much any of that was probably more interesting than talking to Jared about his lack of schooling.
They were quiet for a while, and Jared didn’t know if it was a comfortable quiet or an awkward one. It made him fidget, until he closed the book with a sigh, looking at Jensen once more. “What was your favorite subject in school?”
It was a stupid question to ask, silly really, since the man had probably just been making senseless small talk with him anyway. But Jensen shrugged, snagging the book out of Jared’s grasp and starting to leaf through it with a smirk.
“Chemistry.”
“Really?” Jared watched calloused fingers turn the pages with precise movements. He hadn’t taken the man for a science geek. Jensen looked up from the book, winking at Jared in a way that made the teen drop his hands into his lap to hide the embarrassing effect that had on him.
“I just like blowing shit up.”
Jared froze, torn between the way that cheeky smirk and wink made his insides turn into a warm gooey mess, and the way his chest tightened, and a cold lob of ice formed in his stomach at the implications of Jensen’s words. Oh, shit.
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