Chapter Text
Jared, a lone wolf in a family otherwise consisting of unaffected human carriers, trots through the open fields on his way toward the forest. He has just left his home and lays miles underneath his paws in matter of minutes. At home, his family waits for him, about to celebrate his 18th birthday.
He loves the freedom of the forest. When he was a pup, he was only allowed out in the garden. Thank god they have a big garden, but even a huge garden soon became too small for someone who can run across it in four long leaps. As he grew older, he was given freedom to run freely, and he has long since learned these woods -- every corner, every twist of the path, and every cave to hide and play. He knows where the water runs low in the stream and where the current is too strong to swim across -- that lesson learned the hard way. He was dragged downstream a good 300 feet before he was able to get ashore, something he never told his mom.
His mom is always worried about him and doesn’t relax until he’s back in her house. He understands; he’s her baby after all. He just wishes she would trust him a little bit more and see that he does have instincts after all.
He feels safe though. He keeps to known terrain and stays far away from the wild werewolves' territories so that he won’t accidentally cross into their land. Even though werewolves and humans have lived side by side for centuries now, there still are wild packs that refuse to mix with the civilized world, and though he’s a werewolf himself, he would be looked upon as an enemy just for having human blood.
He knows he smells different; has the stench of a human. But not even full-blooded wolves living in the civilized world would be welcome in the wild pack area. The nearest wild pack lives about 10 miles from the edge of the woods and about 5 miles to the west.
Jared lets his paws run freely on the soft grounds of the fields on the outskirts of the small town. He puts the settlement behind him and runs toward the woods with great anticipation of finding a hare or a deer to chase. He’s not hunting food, his human parents feed him well, but he likes the hunt. He likes the feel of outmaneuvering the animals and sharpening his instincts.
He doesn’t kill them though. He once did when he was a mere pup, but his mother told him he was not allowed to.
The first time he caught a hare he brought it home in his mouth. He had run home proud as only a young cub can be, wagging his tail in anticipation, and laid it down on the porch in front of his mother’s feet. The pat on the back and the praising words he had expected had not come; instead, she had yelled at him and grounded him for a week. The worst part though, was that at the next full moon he had again only been let out in the garden and not been allowed to run past their own border.
He had felt wounded to the depth of his soul and could not understand why his mother had acted so harshly; he had only meant to do well. He had been proud as can be only to be yelled at in return, and the punishment had stung like a knife through his heart.
He had eventually learned to constrain his hunt to chasing only, and merely counting points in his own head, he was winning every game. It isn’t as satisfying, but it’s better than nothing.
A twig breaks under his paws and he moves fast to the left in order not to be hit by an outstretched branch. He picks up speed and runs as fast as he can across the landscape that opens up before him on the other side of the line of trees. A collection of stones makes it easy for him to cross the river without wetting his fur, and he sprints his fastest up the hill. Finally on top he stops and looks back toward the group of houses he just left behind. They are slowly but steadily being bathed in a low orange glow and he stretches his neck and makes a howl that reverberates across the valley beneath him. He hears his call answered in the distance, but he doesn’t chase the howl, knowing it most likely is a wild wolf answering his own cheerful yip. He barks happily and lays his ears back when he hears the city hall bells strike six times.
“Shit,” he thinks, and sprints as fast as he can back the way he came. He doesn’t care about finding the stones to cross the river, but scuttles through the river where it’s closest. He will have run himself dry by the time he’s home anyway, and it’s not like he will have time to get cold.
He arrives home fifteen minutes late and with his tail between his legs. The veranda door is open and he darts straight for the stairs in the hall behind the kitchen hoping to avoid anyone seeing him in wolf shape.
It’s not that he’s ashamed of being a wolf -- his family is more than supportive -- but he doesn’t feel completely comfortable with it either. It’s private, something he doesn’t like to share.
“There you are,” his mother’s voice sounds over the scrape of his nails against the hardwood floor.
Turning his head to look at her, a whimper escapes his mouth and he bows his head in remorse.
“Okay, go on up then, and be sure to come down soon.”
He barks a happy yip and bustles up the stairs. Seconds after he’s shut the door to his room with his snout he feels the bones start to warp into human shape, leaving a tingling feeling behind as the new anatomy settles. His fur retracts and human skin once again covers his body. The transformation is fast and painless. He picks up underwear and a towel and hurries into the bathroom to take a quick shower before putting on the nicely pressed black pants and a blue button down shirt his mom left on the bed for him. The shirt’s fabric is smooth and silky between his fingers. A gift from his mom. Every year, there is a new shirt waiting for him for the party. A glance in the mirror ensures his hair is in order before tramping down the stairs to the waiting guests.
“Happy birthday, Jay-bird,” Chad yells even before he’s fully down the stairs. His friend throws himself around Jared’s neck. “Eighteen years old and still as ugly as ever.”
“Yeah, still prettier than you though,” Jared throws back, not bothering to remove Chad’s arms. He knows that Chad will lose the grip as soon as he starts walking anyway.
“So, has everyone arrived?” Jared asks, drifting toward the back yard.
“Yeah, you’re the last to arrive at your own birthday party. Classy,” Chad mocks him.
“Yeah, kind of forgot about time.” Jared shrugs.
“Shocker,” Chad laughs, all too well aware that this is a common occurrence with Jared. He also knows that it often has to do with Jared’s frequent chase through the woods.
Jared walks out the door and to the backyard where the party guests are gathered. His grandparents and a couple of cousins walk over to give him a hug. There's Beatrice, born the same year as him, who celebrated her 18th birthday a couple of months ago, and her sister Josefine, who’s two years older. He doesn’t see them often, they live a couple of hours away, and he mainly sees them at family gatherings.
He used to play with Bea quite often when they were younger, until one day when the entire family had been at their grandparents’ house for a weekend. They were celebrating grandma and grandpa’s 40th anniversary, and it happened to fall on a full moon. He wasn’t old enough to control the shifts yet, and as the lunar cycle moved closer to full completion, he had changed uncontrolled. He was only 3 years old at the time, and had shifted in the middle of playing a game of tag.
Bea wasn’t frightened when her cousin suddenly changed; instead she was very delighted to see a pup. She loved pups. Almost to death. He, however, wasn’t that happy about almost being strangled to within an inch of his life. But apparently you aren’t allowed to snap at your 3 year old cousin when you’re a wolf. Not even if she almost chokes you.
Even though his aunt and uncle hadn’t blamed Jared for the incident -- after all, he was just a kid himself -- they were more reluctant about letting their kids around him again. Even his own parents made sure they never again were around other people when the time for his change came close.
And it wasn’t only him that was restrained by this. Even his siblings would suffer. Like that weekend when Jeff couldn’t go to a soccer tournament because of him. Dad had been away on business, and mom had been home alone with the kids. The tournament was scheduled at a full moon weekend, and no one could take him but mom, but Jared was too young to be left alone, and they couldn’t take him with them because of his shift.
Jeff never let him forget about the trophy he didn’t get to have, when his team came in second place in the tournament and he wasn’t there to play.
Of course, Jared had mentioned time and again that it was because Jeff wasn’t there to play that they came in second, but that never went down well. Wolf or not, Jeff has never been afraid to fight with his kid brother when he is sufficiently agitated.
Bea, age 3, on the other hand, had been more willing to forgive, and after a little comfort on her dad’s lap, she had stopped crying after Jared had snapped after her. His own parents had locked him into their grandparents’ enclosed old dog yard where he had to stay until he had calmed down. He can still remember the frustration and distress running through his body as well as the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment when he shifted back. He was too young to understand what he had done wrong, but he was far from too young to feel the eyes on him for being the weird one of the lot.
His grandma had pulled him into her lap and given him a huge hug. Small as he was at that age, he would sink down on her lap and be completely wrapped up in her arms. There was no place as safe as on her knees, and when she topped that off with a chocolate chip cookie, he would soon feel happy again.
Now he pulls his petite grandma into his embrace and inhales the scent of perfume on her skin. It’s heavy and sweet and it hits him like a wave since he’s yet to calm all his senses. The stress from being late – again – has let him forget to close down his instincts, and his senses are wide open. He pulls away for a second and swiftly tunes his senses down before he pulls her into his embrace again. The mixed scents of vanilla and ethanol and something that is distinctly grandma, is for Jared the best smell in the world.
He would have preferred her without the artificial fragrance though, as each and every living creature has their own scent that he picks up on anyway, but this combination of grandma and old perfume is what speaks of sanctuary for him.
“Hello, Jared, how are you my dear?” She kisses him on the cheek and pats him on his head before he stretches up to his full height again.
“Did you grow again?” she asks before he has the time to answer. If anyone ever wonders where he inherited his tendencies to talk a lot, they stop wondering the moment they meet Anna Louisa Padalecki. She has just as great a talent and three times the practice.
“I think I have,” Jared says and thinks about all the trousers that suddenly are too short for his long legs. It drives his mom crazy how he constantly gets into new growth spurts and how she never seems able to keep him in long enough clothes.
“I swear he has grown at least an inch since before the summer,” his mom says from behind him and offers grandma a glass of cold lemonade. The sun has started to set, but it’s still warm and today has been unusually hot. His mom has decorated the trees in their garden with lanterns, and the tables are set with jars filled with scented tea lights to keep the mosquitoes away. He doesn’t care much about the mosquitoes, they don’t seem to like were blood too much, so he hardly ever gets bitten, and if he does, it heals in no time. His mom though, hates the bugs. They love her blood and bite her as often as they can, and her skin usually blisters with angry looking bites.
He kisses his mom hello, apologizing for being late, and she brushes it off for now, but he knows she will give him a speech later about keeping time.
If you could just be little bit more like your brother she will tell him later, annoyed that he hasn’t inherited the same punctuality as his brother.
His brother is always on time, always ahead of what he’s supposed to do. He always knows what he wants and knows how to reach his goal. Jared however, barely makes it on time to school, and hardly on time anywhere else. He gets too distracted in his own thoughts and often he forgets time, too engaged in the book he’s reading.
“Go help your dad before he burns all the food,” she tells him and pushes him in the direction of the barbeque. He throws an apologetic smile toward Sandy and Chad sitting at the table in the corner of the yard nursing ice cold sodas. They’re the only friends attending his party, the rest of the guests are family.
Sandy’s been his best girl since daycare, and the one he used to picture himself having a future with. They even dated for a few days a couple of years ago, but it ended abruptly with the first kiss. It was too close to kissing his sister, and they both found it too weird. They decided never to try it again and declared themselves best friends forever instead.
Chad moved into the house next door when Jared was ten and Chad was nine. He jumped the fence one day, started talking and has never really left. Not that Jared cares; he likes having Chad around.
It’s not that Jared doesn’t want more friends, it’s more that he doesn’t know how to keep them.
He loves hanging out with Chad and Sandy though, they never make him feel different. He waves at them, but dutifully trots over to his dad to save some hamburgers before they turn into charcoal.
He tends to the barbeque for a while and talks with everyone that walks up to grab a bite to eat. His uncle and aunt both eat their entire meal standing next to him, and grandpa Padalecki has him sneak him one extra hot dog without grandma noticing.
It doesn’t take long though before his brother walks up to him, all smiling and laughing and carrying two cold beers in his hands. He hasn’t seen his brother all day and he suspects he was late driving in. He lives in Chester where he studies medicine and Jared knows that he’s busy with school and his job. For a while it even looked like he wouldn’t be able to make it at all, but he’s here now.
Jared always values spending time with Jeff. They could fight like cats and dogs when they were kids, and Jared used to think he hated him, but now that they’re older he appreciates the friendship they have. Also, it’s easier to stay friends when they don’t see each other all the time anymore. It makes them value each other much more.
“Happy birthday, bro.” Jeff hands him one of the beers and positions himself in front of Jared so that his mom won’t spot him supplying his younger brother with alcohol. “Got any burgers for me?”
“Thanks.” Jared smiles and hands him a plate with a burger and some salad. Jeff sets it down on the side table and grabs the burger with one hand, still holding his beer in the other, but leaves the salad be. “You are free to take over for me anytime so that I don’t have to slave on my own birthday,” Jared continues. He swallows down the beer, keeping an eye out for his mom. She’s standing with her back to him, and his dad is currently inside the house. Grandpa has spotted him, but one nod toward the hotdogs still sweating on the grill is enough to keep him quiet.
Jared finishes his beer, puts it down on the table next to Jeff’s plate and hands Jeff the spatula. Jeff scowls at him but doesn’t protest. They usually guard the grill on each other’s birthday, letting the birthday boy have some time to spend with their friends.
“So,” Jeff says, taking the last bite of his burger before taking his place behind the grill, “having a good day so far?” He speaks around his food and Jared can see way more half-chewed food than he really wants.
“Gross, bro,” he frowns. “Learn to not speak with food in your mouth.” It only earns him an even closer look at Jeff’s food as he opens his mouth wider and leans in to show it to his brother. “But yeah, I’ve had a great day.” He pushes his brother back and grabs a plate for himself. He fills it up with burgers, potato salad and buns and starts walking over to his friends' table.
“Oh, by the way,” Jeff hollers after him, “Jensen says hello.”
~*~*o*~*~
Jensen lets the water shower over him in an attempt to wash away the layer of frustration thick on his skin. He’s frustrated with pent up sexual tension, and he’s about to climb the walls if he can’t find a resolution soon. He’s not focusing on his job, his studies, and he can hardly keep a conversation with his friends anymore.
All he can think about is…him.
Over the last few weeks he has gone through more men than he has done in the rest of his sexually active life. He’s found a new fuck every night, sometimes two in one night. He never brings them home, and he always fucks them from behind where he doesn’t have to stare them in the face. He doesn’t want to see. He closes his eyes and pretends they are someone else. He pounds into them hard and fast, and he never asks their names.
He has no problem finding a willing man. There are many men out there that get off from being fucked by werewolves, many that long for the strength and dominance only a were can give.
Some of them have begged him to bite them, let them get off by the pain he inflicts. Jensen doesn’t do that. He doesn’t want to let his teeth sink into the flesh of anyone else other than the one, the one that he knows is for him. He doesn’t want to taste the tang of anyone’s blood on his tongue unless it belongs to his beta.
He fucking needs a mate.
He growls in frustration and bends his head back so fast that it smacks against the tile shower wall. The pain matches his frustration and he drags both hands over his face and through his hair. The light above the mirror flickers and he shuts his eyes to block it out. Scalding hot water burns him red. Hard droplets beat against his skin, etching away the salt and sweat clinging to his body.
He’s yearning for release.
He grabs hold of his hard dick and squeezes it tightly, willing it to soften, cursing his constant state of need. When that doesn’t help, he tugs at it instead, firm and fast, without prolonging the act. He continues steadily until his release splashes against the tiles, washed away by the spray from the shower.
He turns off the shower and dries himself on a towel that’s been washed without softener. It’s stiff and scratchy against his skin, and he thinks he will have red scratches across his back when he is finished. It doesn’t do much more than tickle, and it doesn’t even begin to ease the pins and needles constantly stuck under his skin.
Swiping the damp of the mirror with the palm of his hand, he leans in to stare at his reflection under the flickering light. His eyes stare back at him, green and vibrant, yellow speckles shining through from the light above the mirror. He doesn’t like the hunger he can see in them and huffs out a breath before turning to get dressed, avoiding his own look. He pulls his clothes onto a still damp body, but doesn’t care about the denim clutching to his legs and pulling at his skin when he walks into the living room.
Leftover pizza from lunch is still out on the coffee table. It’s cold and dry but still edible, and he grabs a beer from the fridge as he walks through the kitchen. He has just sat down when his phone buzzes with a text message.
Jared says you’re a dork, Jeff sent, not for the first time. Ever since Jensen came home with him, Jeff has tried to get them to know each other better. Jensen has done his best to respond without snapping, because Jensen promised to be his friend, to help him out, and he’s not one to go back on his word.
Jensen lets out a hollow laugh and sends sure back. Jeff’s at home celebrating Jared’s birthday and Jensen was invited.
“You must come,” Jeff said. “Stay the whole weekend.”
He declined though; he used a council meeting as an excuse, though he didn’t really need to attend. Problem was, he really did want to see Jared… a bit too much.
~Four moons ago~
Four moons ago Jared brushed against Jensen as he passed him in the hallway. Jensen just stepped out of the bathroom, and there he was, waiting for him, expectation written all over his face.
“Come on, Jensen,” Jared said, letting a brush of hot air tickle him by the ear. Jensen could feel the heat etching into his skin, like a burn mark branded into his soul. He had to restrain himself from moving, torn between wanting to pull him closer and push him away.
He could see Jared’s nostrils flare when he inhaled a fragrance too strong to ignore. The boy was practically panting and twitching, and clearly about to burst. Jensen could see how the blood was rushing through his veins and noticed how he could never keep his eyes away.He had to use all his strength and act against his own instincts to be able to push him away.
”Stop it,” he said. “We can’t...”
“Why not?” Jared growled and pressed himself tighter against him, letting Jensen feel exactly how aroused he was. A hand pressed down on Jensen’s bulge, kneading and stroking through denim, forcing a groan to escape Jensen’s lips. ”I know you want it, too,” Jared pleaded. “I can feel it. Just a touch, just getting each other off. Please.”
“No.” Jensen pushed him away harder, forcing himself to be strong.
“But why?” Jared practically whined by now, leaning in again, unwilling to be brushed off.
“Because you’re too young,” Jensen said, scolding himself for lusting after a minor. He kept his hand flat against Jared’s chest, blocking him from leaning in. “Because you’re my best friend’s kid brother,” he continued, reminding himself of the promise he had made. Jensen forced himself to look him straight in the eye and said, ”How many reasons do you need? Are you fucking outta your mind?”
“And what if I am?” Jared pushed Jensen’s hands away, leaning in again to lick his skin. His tongue left a wet trail through the salt pooling in the hollow of his neck and Jensen inhaled sharply. His knees were about to give way, and he had almost no willpower left.
“You’re just…” he pressed out breathlessly.
“I’m what?” Jared pushed a leg between Jensen’s thighs and brushed their groins together.
“You’re just a kid.” He pushed hard in one last effort to get the kid off him, leaving Jared to fall a few steps back. He almost hit the opposite wall, but was able to find footing before he crashed into it.
“But you want me,” Jared said defiantly, looking like the kid he was, but nonetheless truthful.
“No, I don’t,” Jensen lied through his teeth, hoping that if he just said it with enough conviction, it would be true. He forced himself to look Jared straight in the eyes as he served him the lie.
A veil of confusion flashed in Jared’s eyes, leaving him looking even younger than his years, before he turned and ran into his own room, finally leaving Jensen alone in the hallway.
~*~*o*~*~
Jared feels caged in his room. He’s pacing the floor, almost climbing the walls with frustration. He wants to run free, he has wanted to run for days now, but his mother has said no, has told him to stay home for a change. The pull toward the woods grows stronger by the day, and he is more and more restless.
He walks over to the window and casts a glance at the waxing moon, high in the east and nearly full. He knows it’s only a matter of days until it’s complete, and he can feel the shift in his body starting already.
It’s stronger this time.
There’s a burn in his bones, running deep and impossible to ignore. It’s not quite an ache, but a tingling sensation, almost like a burn. It grows stronger the closer he gets to the full moon, but so far it has never been so bad that he cannot withstand it. Ever since puberty he’s been able to shift at will, at any time of the moon cycle, but the pull is stronger when the moon is full. He’s usually able to resist though, not liking to be the one to stand out.
~*~*o*~*~
~Four moons ago~
Meeting Jeff’s family four moons ago was a strange experience. He thought Jeff was weird, with all the hugging and touching, but meeting the rest of the family and being surrounded by a bunch of Padaleckis without any sense of personal space was beyond surreal. They greeted him with open arms and invited him into their home.
Sherri, Jeff’s mom, kissed him on the cheek and told him it was a pleasure to finally meet him. She thanked him for not killing her son in frustration and he had laughed and said that Jeff wasn't that bad as a roommate. Jeff’s father, Gerry, gave him a firm handshake and welcomed him into their house, telling him to feel at home.
Megan though, the youngest of the Padalecki children, just stared at him with big starlit eyes, and he had no choice but to smile at her, embarrassed by the unwanted attention. She was tall and slender, definitely pretty, and couldn't be more than 14 years old. Jeff only sniggered when he noticed his kid sister. He ruffled her hair, whispering that Jensen doesn’t swing that way, something that made her blush crimson red, and also that he is way too old for her.
Jensen turned around looking at the family portraits on the wall, pretending not to hear. He was surprised that Jeff seemed to forget the advanced hearing of a werewolf, or it might simply be that he didn’t mind embarrassing both Jensen and his kid sister at once.
“Is this Jared?” Jensen said, pointing at a picture on the wall. The picture portrayed a young, lanky boy with fluffy brown hair and the same slanting hazel eyes that he could see in Megan’s face.
“That’s Jared,” Jeff nodded, still tickling his sister, all giggly by then.
“So where is he?” Jensen asked, curious as to why he wasn’t there.
“He’s out playing basketball with a friend,” Sherri replied with a smile. “He’ll be home for dinner.”
~*~*o*~*~
Fuck, he’s been a complete lunatic since …Jared.
He’s thirsty. Thirsty for more and he doesn’t know how to slake his thirst, and he doesn’t know how he can avoid going after what he needs.
He casts a glance out the window and sees how the moon peeks out from under a veil of clouds.He knows that it’s less than a week until the moon is full, and that this will be Jared’s first full moon as an adult were. He knows for certain, no doubt left in his mind, that each day until then, his ache will grow stronger, and unless he’s terribly wrong about his assumptions, he won’t be able to resist.
His skin feels too tight, too wrong, like he belongs in another hide. Just as it did back then, four moons ago, and every full moon since, he is struggling not to shift.
He puts the bottle of beer down on the table. The bottle leaves a wet ring and he wipes it off with the palm of his hand and leans over to grab one of the coasters that Jeff nags him about using. “Fuck,” he mutters, not for the first time, and probably not for the last, as he grabs his phone to make a call. He scrolls the contact list in search for someone to talk some sense into him.
Chris picks up on the second ring and yells over loud music in the background to hang on. He can hear Steve holler in the background and a whole lot of scuffling and walking before he hears the creaking of a door being opened and then shut before he actually hears Chris telling him hello.
“How’s it going?” Jensen starts, trying to sense his friend’s mood. This is not a conversation he wants to cut short within a few minutes, so if his friend can’t talk, he’d rather not raise the subject.
“Great.” Chris throws himself into a tale about shows and crowds and life on the road. It doesn’t take too long though before he remembers that it was actually Jensen calling and he asks if there's any particular reason for the call.
“I think I’m in trouble,” Jensen says without much ado. This stops Chris short and there is silence for a while.
“What kind of trouble?” he asks casually, suddenly totally sober.
“The kind of trouble where I painfully want to claim Jeff’s kid brother?” He phrases it as a question, like he’s not quite sure he actually means it.
Chris blows out a low whistle. “You’ve really got a death wish, don’t you?”
Jensen shifts his phone from one hand to the other, listening to Chris’ breath through the line. He’s waiting for an answer, waiting for Jensen to give him an explanation, except Jensen doesn’t want to voice his suspicions, thinking that if he doesn’t say them out loud they may not come true.
“No, no death wish,” he tells Chris. “Just an intense fear of dying if Jeff ever finds out.”
“Why the hell did you….?” Chris doesn’t even finish the sentence. There is no need, Chris isn’t stupid, and he knows there is only one logical explanation for Jensen to act this way.
“I don’t know,” Jensen lies, and they both know it. Chris is quiet on the other end of the line and Jensen is thankful for it.
~*~*o*~*~
It’s Monday evening and Jared listens to his parents saying goodbye to Jeff, who’s downstairs getting ready to go back to Chester after being home for Jared’s birthday. He doesn’t bother walking down to see his brother off, but rather sits on the windowsill staring out at the fields stretching out from behind their house.
He touch the glass of the window with one hand, feels the cold against his skin. It’s like a prison wall, separating him from the world he wants to live in.
He can hear his mother tell Jeff to call when he is back safe in his apartment, and Jared knows that they can expect a call on the house line in about two hours.
The moon is high in the sky and close to full and Jared has been out running. Two hours in freedom.
The air had been crisp and he’d been gone for a long time, letting frustration and agitation get an outlet in his fast gallop through fields and forests. He had put under him miles upon miles, and had run much farther than he would ever admit to his mother. He ran wide around the wild pack territories, but crossed the river and headed west toward the mountains. He always followed the stream upwards to the peak. Once, he ran all the way to the edge of the glacier, to the outspring of the river. The water had been even colder up there than it is down in the valley and it had tasted even crisper. It was better than any drink he had ever tasted before, and he has yet to taste anything close to it. One day, when he has both time and courage, he will do the run up there again.
Today though, he had run farther into the woods rather than up the mountains. He’d been in a foul mood and shifted as soon as he came home. His mom had called for him, asked him what was wrong, but he had brushed her off and told her he’d take a run before shifting without waiting for an answer. She could say whatever she wanted; he would not have listened anyway. It was either run or throw a hissy fit at home, and no one wants a hissy fit thrown by a teenage werewolf.
~Five moons ago~
Five moons ago, and one moon before he visited the Padalecki home, Jensen found himself eating breakfast in the apartment that he shared with Jeff.
“Do you want to come home with me this weekend?” Jeff snagged the business section of the paper and left Jensen with the political section. There was nothing new in that, it happened all the time; they were kind of like an old married couple that way.
It was the question that took Jensen by surprise and made him totally forget to slap Jeff’s hand for stealing his newspaper. He'd never been to Jeff’s parents’ home, he'd never been asked to come along when Jeff went home to visit. Jeff’s from Millford, a small town a couple of hours drive outside of Chester. They are under the guardianship of the Greenburg Pack, but mostly they are werewolf free. The Greenburg pack is medium sized, known to stay out of trouble, and with a firm but friendly pack Alpha. They belong to the same pack alliance as Jensen’s own, and he’d met a few of them at the annual alliance meeting last year.
“Why?” he asked, not even trying to guess Jeff’s motivation for the request.
Jeff didn’t answer right away but seemed to think how to word his next sentence. Jensen had known Jeff for a while, and knew how to read his face. He knew that when Jeff hesitated like this, it was because something important depended on it.
“I need your help,” he finally said.
It didn’t clarify much, but Jensen wasn’t one to deny a friend help, so he sat still waiting for Jeff to continue.
“You know my brother, right?”
Jensen tried to dig up all the information he had Jeff’s on brother and came up close to empty.
“Jared?”
Jeff gave him a nod. “He’s a wolf,” he said, holding Jensen’s eyes.
A werewolf…. Jensen could feel the chill going down his spine and he swallowed loudly, putting the newspaper down. He had never known that Jeff is…. “And you?” he said, knowing perfectly well that Jeff’s no werewolf. He can always smell the were on a person, and the only stench coming from Jeff is human.
“I’m a carrier. So are my sister and my parents. Jared’s the only wolf in generations.”
Jensen let the information sink in. It happened sometimes, that there was a lone werewolf in a family of humans.
“Okay,” Jensen said. A hurt feeling settled in his belly and he tried to swallow it down. “Uhm…” Jensen rubbed his neck, still feeling insecure about why he hadn’t shared this information sooner. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
He tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, thinking that there must be a logical reason why Jeff hadn’t told him. Jeff knew that Jensen was a were, so he must have known that Jensen would never have trouble with were blood running through their veins.
“Look, Jensen, I didn’t mean to keep it from you, but you…”
He stalled, another sign that he was about to say something insulting, and Jensen braced himself for what was to come. He could practically sense the unease radiating off of Jeff. The longer the pause prevailed, the more he could feel heat rise in his blood.
“I what?” he pushed, keeping his voice cool, when Jeff didn't elaborate.
“You’re…. you,” Jeff said as a piss-poor explanation.
“I’m… me?” Confusion mixed with hurt was starting to make Jensen feel angry. He felt strangely attacked and he didn’t know why.
“Well, you’re…“ Jeff rose from his chair and stared pacing the floor. “You’re all so about your cause all the time. So eager and so sure you’re right.”
He almost snarled the last words out, leaving no doubt that he didn’t share Jensen’s opinions on the matter. He didn’t elaborate; just let the meaning of the words lingered in the air between them.
Hurt and anger fought for space in Jensen’s belly until he understood. He was man enough to admit his own shortcomings and once he thought about it, he had to admit Jeff probably did the right thing not telling him before now.
“But you decided to tell me now?” he prompted, giving Jeff a tentative smile to show him that it was okay. He might have still felt hurt, but he knew that he had to get over himself.
“Yeah, now I did.” Jeff lowered his shoulders and Jensen could see the tension in his body deflate. “Listen,” Jeff continued in a tired voice, “I don’t want that discussion, okay? I agree with my family about…” He flapped his hands, sort of wrapping up the whole situation in one gesture, and if the subject hadn’t been so important to either of them, Jensen would have made fun of him for it. “ And I stand by that, but I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Nah, you’re probably right,” Jensen admitted, still licking his wounds. He'd rather lick his wounds in private, though, so he didn't let on to Jeff that his pride still stung a little. “I am a bit single-minded about that.”
“You think?” Jeff shot him a cracked smile, loading all the sarcasm he could into one little sentence. Jensen could clearly see the hand stretched out and he grabbed it with both hands. He gave him half a laugh and threw a roll at him.
Jeff gracefully ducked away, surprisingly fast for a human, and the roll hit the floor with a soft thud. “I know,” Jensen said and followed the roll with his eyes. It rolled across the floor and made a final stop by the counter. “Doesn’t mean I would go all crazy on my friends though. I still have some decency; I actually try to respect other people’s right to make their own choices.”
Jeff shot him a sheepish smile before bending down to stretch his ‘out of this world’ long arms to pick up the roll and throw it in the garbage can under the sink. “I know, and I’m sorry. It just…” He rubbed his neck and started plucking at the front page of the newspaper. “I didn’t know you that well when I moved in here, right? All I knew was that you were this up and coming hot shot in the Archer pack, and that you were seriously into politics. I knew even before we had moved in my last box that you were pro pack, and I didn’t dare tell you that my brother was a pack-less wolf. And then by the time I trusted you enough, it was kind of too late to say anything, you know? I mean, how could I explain not having told you before without offending you?”
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Jensen said clearly, seeing his point. Especially since he secretly was tending to his hurt feelings at that very moment. “So, you were saying? You needed my help?”
“Yeah.” Jeff offered him a refill of coffee which Jensen gulped down in a few mouthfuls. He never let his coffee get cold. “Eh, well… Though I do agree about keeping Jared at home, he is actually graduating high school now, and he will move to Chester to start college.”
“Ah, okay.” Jensen started to see where Jeff was heading with this. A were coming of age.
“He’s a smart kid and he’ll do fine. I’m just worried, with him turning 18, and moving to the city, and…”
“You’re worried how he will deal with suddenly being in the city surrounded by werewolves, and maybe also about him finally being ready for mating?” Jensen finished the sentence for him.
“Yeah, that,” Jeff said, clearly relieved that Jensen got it without him having to spell it all out.
A werewolf was ready to mate from around the time he turned 18. It wasn’t necessarily on the exact date of his birth, but usually within his birth month. Once he was ready for mating every were would be able to smell it on him, and he would start to feel the urge to find a mate. The urge to find a mate was strong, and would keep growing stronger until the were was finally mated.
The higher range the werewolf had, the stronger the urge, which was why it was unusual for a male alpha to be unmated by the age of 22. An unmated alpha usually didn’t make it long in the pack. Sooner or later he would have gone crazy by need.
And Jensen could feel the need.He felt it as an open wound piercing through his soul, an urge to seek the one he belonged with. But he had never found a were with the right scent, not once, and mating with the wrong one was even worse than not mating at all.
“So what exactly do you want me to do?” Jensen asked, still not completely certain he understood what Jeff wanted from him.
“I just want you to, you know, get to know him, so that when he comes to Chester he knows a werewolf he can trust.”
Trust. Jensen let the word sink in, satisfied that his friend trusted him. After the fallout with Mike—and Jensen’s knowledge that he could not be trusted again – combined with the uncertainty Jeff obviously had in confiding him, Jensen grabbed the trust he had been given with both hands and made a silent promise never to break that trust.
~*~*o*~*~
Sometimes Jared hates his parents. He hates that they live in Millford. Millford, the fucking friendliest place in America – for humans anyway. There’s practically no crime, people don’t even lock their doors at night. No one’s afraid of walking after dark and people actually know their neighbors. It’s perfect - unless you’re pretty much the only wolf in school.
You see, Millford is rumored to be safe mainly because there are no wolves around. Sure, there are the guards. Everyone respects the guards, but they are well integrated wolves not likely to go batshit on anyone. They have been living among humans all their lives and know how to live like humans. Nearly every neighborhood in this part of America has werewolf guardianship. The wolf pack covering the area is in charge of keeping an eye on the place. In a place like Millford, the only noticeable presence of wolves are when you see the guards run through the city twice after dark, to check that nothing illegal is going on.
But people are still skeptical toward the common wolf. They hear about the uproar going on in the bigger cities, hear about the crime rings led by stray wolves. They hear about how said crime rings recruit young human males that seeking action -- and maybe even protection from enemies -- and hoping that the wolves can protect them if they join their league. And parents are scared that their kids will be sucked into that life. They are scared that the seemingly friendly boy growing up amongst their kids will turn into a dangerous animal when his instincts grow stronger, and though they all raise their voices voting for equal rights, they just don’t trust them with their own kids.
So Jared sits in his room, alone, looking out at the fields that he loves and hates. He loves them for the freedom they give him, the feeling of speed beneath his paws. But he hates them for the loneliness that accompanies him on the runs.
When he was a kid he used to beg his parents to move to the city, to let him go to a werewolf school, but they refused to listen. They belong in this house, they said, in the house his great-great grandfather built, that is filled with love and history. His family’s history is in these walls, they used to say. They used to say that he most of all should be especially proud to live here, in the house where Tristan Padalecki used to live.
~*~*o*~*~
Jensen closes the door behind him and throws the keys down in the tray on the entrance table. He’s bone tired and wants nothing more than to fall face down on the bed, preferably sleeping until next year. It’s only the first day in a long week and the day's not over yet. He has final exams coming up, and reports to read through and comment on at the next city council meeting.
He’s the youngest member of the council, but holds the position as the second alderman representing the Archer pack. As one of the alpha weres in the pack, and the one most engaged in were politics, he was the natural choice when the aldermen were voted on in the last election.
The job is time-consuming and doesn’t pay well, but it’s more interesting than working in a coffee shop or local Wal-Mart to pay the rent, and he’s gaining valuable experience while making money toward his studies. So be it if he’s overwhelmed at times with the workload from being both a chair in the council and a full-time law student. At least he only holds second chair; he’s not obligated to show unless the first chairman can’t attend. So far, the first chairman has more than 90% attendance, so Jensen doesn’t have to attend more than his obligatory 40% to keep his voting privileges.
The case list had been long today and the most important case was the question of what to do about the lawlessness spreading throughout the city. He’s really had enough of that discussion already, they are going in circles, but he doesn’t have the luxury of giving up. It’s too important. There's too much at stake.
The city population has lived in peace for years, and he wants to see it continue that way. He was born and raised in this area and so were his parents, and he loves this town. It’s his home and he wants to see it grow and blossom, not be beaten down by more and more frequent battles between werewolves and humans, the pure-blooded and halfbreeds, and also the syndicates of packless omegas. One of the problems, as he sees it, is that no one was really prepared to deal with all the halfbreed werewolves popping up.
Jensen massages his temples trying to will the pending headache away. He yawns on his way into the kitchen, sleepwalking more than anything else. He opens the fridge and looks at the empty space in there in a faint hope of finding anything edible, but there’s not much other than a couple of beers and a jar of pickles. There’s a carton of Chinese take away on the top shelf. He grabs it tentatively, takes a whiff, and deems it probably safe to eat.
“When did you have this Chinese?” he hollers out to the empty room. There’s silence for about four seconds before the entrance door opens and Jeff pokes his head in, just as Jensen knew he would as soon as he detected Jeff’s footsteps in the hallway outside their apartment.
“Oh, hi Jensen. What did you say?”
“This Chinese,” Jensen repeats and holds it up for his roommate to see, “how old is it?”
“Uhm.” Jeff scratches his head and walks into the kitchen. “Three days I think.”
Jensen takes another whiff and pops it into the microwave.
“And you can have it if you want,” Jeff adds sarcastically.
“Do you want a beer?” Jensen grabs a couple of cold bottles from the fridge and offers one to Jeff.
“Thanks.” Jeff grabs his beer and walks into the living room where he plops himself down on the couch. Jensen waits 3 minutes for the microwave to ping before he grabs the steaming container and follows suit. Jeff switches on the TV and they watch some reality show in silence for a while.
“You staying in today?” Jeff eventually asks around the neck of the bottle.
“Yeah,” Jensen sighs, too tired to keep his eyes open.
“No hookups today?”
Jensen just casts a glance in Jeff’s direction, not even bothering with an answer.
~*~*o*~*~
Jared can’t stop thinking about him, even though it makes him feel sick.
The day Jared met Jensen he’d been taken by surprise. He’d come home from playing hoops with Chad, and he was actually in a bit of a crappy mood. They’d had a fight, and though they parted as friends, the argument was still lingering in the air. He hates fighting with Chad.
Chad can be a douche sometimes, and most of the time Jared deals with it. He deals with it because most of the time, Chad is, beyond everything, a loyal friend. He has never made a fuss about Jared being a wolf, and he has never made Jared feel like a freak about it.
The argument was silly really, just a battle for dominance on the court, and Chad had accused him of cheating, being physically stronger due to being a wolf. Normally, Jared would have brushed it off, but the moon was close to full, and his body was aching for a run, and he was unusually sensitive to being different. He snapped, and for the first time ever, he growled at his best friend.
Chad had almost fallen by surprise, and Jared had been close to tears in regret afterwards. They had looked at each other awkwardly before shrugging it off and continuing to play. But in the back of Jared’s mind, there was a voice telling him that this was why humans didn’t want their kids to play with him.
It’s sufficient to say he was a bit distracted and less observant when he walked in through the door that day. He used all his willpower to keep the wolf in him restrained, which may have been the reason it took him until he turned around and saw him before he caught Jensen ‘s scent.
And what a scent.
It shot straight to his spine and spread throughout his body, lighting up every nerve cell. His heartbeat increased so much he thought it would jump out of his chest and heat flashed through him as his nerve endings were firing all at once.
“I’m yours” reverberated through him like an echo from ancient time.
There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that it was his mate standing before him, and though he had never before given it a thought, he accepted immediately that he was beta.
The revelation should have been shocking to him, repulsing even. He had never yearned for an alpha, never once contemplated submitting to another man, and yet here he felt an intense draw toward this man, this wolf, and he knew that he belonged with him.
Jared had practically thrown himself at Jensen. Had he been more aware of what he was doing, he would have been mortally embarrassed, but it was like his blood was boiling. He needed. There is no other way of describing it. He needed Jensen. He needed to be part of Jensen. To touch, to taste, to lick his cock and bite the flesh at the base of his neck. Never in his life had he felt anything like this.
He didn’t even bother to hide it much. Not when they were alone. He brushed up against him, let his hand brush against his groin. He would breathe into his ear and sniff his neck, right at the spot where a touch would shoot straight to Jensen’s dick.
Apparently a puff of hot breath would do the same.
“Not here,” Jensen had said. “Are you crazy?” he had asked, trying to push Jared away.
The more he pushed, the more insistent Jared became.
He feels the same, Jared had told himself, sure that he read the signs right, and he’d acted unrepentant and without second thought.
Like a hunter he had gone for what he wanted.
It was therefore a shock when Jensen had refused him pointblank, with no doubt about it. He had shut him down, and let him stand there dripping with lust and ashamed beyond words.
~*~*o*~*~
Jensen has done all he can to erase the image of Jared from his mind. The scent of him is branded into his brain, his nostrils vibrating with the thought of it. He smelled of mate. Sitting in the Padalecki kitchen, eating at the table with his best friend’s family, he had for the first time in his life gotten a whiff of the scent he had yearned to find, the one of a suitable mate.
Just because a man is a suitable mate, doesn’t mean he’s the right choice. Not when he’s his best friend’s kid brother. His underage kid brother. The one he had promised to help.
He needed to find a way to let off some steam, a way to scratch the itch without doing the unforgivable. So he started to go out every night, finding a new fuck. And if they are all human, all willing and none of them anything but a nameless face, then so be it. If it helps him keep his hands off a kid, then that’s what he’ll do, even though he hates himself a little more every day.
~*~*o*~*~
Jared locked himself in his room the first few days after Jensen left, refusing to talk to anyone. His shame was too big. He felt rejected and hurt and quite a bit confused. He couldn’t see how his body could betray him like this, how his instinct could be this wrong.
But Jensen had pushed him away and Jared had no reason to doubt his sincerity.
In fact, as soon as the moon had moved from full to waning and his body seemed to calm, the full impact of his own behavior hit him straight on. He wanted to die of mortification and if he never saw Jensen again, it would be too soon.