hemrage | Desperate Times

Chapter 1: here.

Title: Desperate Times (2/?)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/OMCs, AU, Non-con, Dub-con, MPREG

Jensen leant over the sink and splashed cold water over his face. He couldn’t believe he’d cried – not over this, not again. He wanted to tell himself that worse things happened but, at that moment, he couldn’t think of anything worse than this. Being here. Being what he was.

He thought about the men he’d met tonight. Jared seemed nice enough, well as nice as a stranger could be, but the other two … he just wasn’t sure. Not about Jack, who’d seemed genuinely friendly, or Sam, who’d given him a touch of the creeps. But how could he know? He’d not spent any time with them … and he didn’t know what any of them would be like when … when ….

Fuck! He didn’t want to think about it. How the hell could he be expected to do it when he couldn’t even think about it?

He’d been surprised when Jared hadn’t followed him into the bathroom. Surprised that he hadn’t been disturbed by someone in the last ten minutes. He was hiding. He knew it – they probably did too. At least, for now, they were letting him have this space, this time.

He turned on the shower and started peeling off his clothes, putting them on the floor near the door. He knew he wouldn’t be putting them back on, not as soon as he saw the clothes laid out on the counter near the sink.

He reached out and touched them, they were soft. They’d be comfortable, he didn’t doubt that. They wanted him to be comfortable, someone had told him that but he couldn’t remember who.

He took in the rest of the room as the steam billowed out from the shower behind him, already fogging up the bank of mirrors that took up the wall behind a pair of sinks set into white counters.

The shower took up a large proportion of the room. It was not separated from the rest of the bathroom by glass, but simply by space. A gentle slope ensuring that the water ran towards the drain against the far wall.

The bath filled one corner of the room. It hadn’t been designed for one person to bathe alone.

The toilet, within only a couple of feet of the door, was the only thing designed for an individual to use solo.

But the size of this room, the sheer scale of it, meant that he’d rarely be alone in here. It couldn’t be a sanctuary … he doubted there was one.

He bit back a groan as he allowed himself to look at his reflection, now that it was muted, almost drowned out by the fine droplets of condensation on the surface of the glass.

They thought he was underweight … it was true. He looked down and he could see the outline of ribs when before they had been totally cushioned by muscle. His hips jutted out too far, his legs looked too skinny to bear even his reduced weight.

He tried to remember what he had looked like before …. everything. Back when the future had been his to control, decisions had been his to make, and his life … his life had been his too.

He was never going to have that - be that - again.

He placed himself under the spray of hot water and did his best to ignore the sound of the door opening, willing himself not to flinch at the sound of footsteps on tile.

Jared placed Jensen’s clothes on the table and turned to Jack, who was obviously waiting for him to say something. A delicious aroma enticed his taste buds, and he found himself salivating, hunger choosing now to make its first appearance of the day.

“What?”

Jack smirked, “Don’t give me that. You know what.” He turned and threw something Jared couldn’t make out into the pot and then replaced the lid, turning his back on the stove. “What do you think of him? He’s a looker ain’t he?”

Jared smiled at that, nodding. “I can’t deny that he looks good but…”

Jack sighed. “I know, I know. You’re feeling like the shittiest heal that ever stepped in shit.”

Jared snorted, “Where the fuck did that come from?”

“No idea. But I get it, I do.”

Jared didn’t doubt it. “So what do I do?”

“What you do is be his friend. Get him to like you. If he’s comfortable around you, if he trusts you, then it’ll be easier for him to just .. well, to put it bluntly, spread his legs.”

Jared sank onto the chair he pulled out from under the table, “Sounds like a great idea. Until someone other than me gets him pregnant.” Jared found himself resting his head in his hands.

Shaking his head Jack put his hand on Jared’s shoulder, just resting it there. Jared was grateful for the small comfort. Jack understood. They’d been in this situation together before, just the once, but Jared took some strength from having Jack in here with him.

When Jared had first entered the Centre, had been confined with his first Gestate, Jack had been there, and Jared had learned so much from the older man, not least of which was an understanding of how Impregnates were a lot more fortunate than their fertile counterparts.

The resentment Jared had been filled with had slowly leached away.

During the sixth month confinement Impregnates were still granted access to the outside world: letters, phone calls, even meetings with the directors were chances to see different faces. The only contact Gestates had with the outside world, not counting the doctor’s appointments, was through television and radio. They were little more than pampered prisoners.

Jack understood that, Jared understood it. Not everyone did. Speaking of …. Jared lifted his head and looked round the kitchen. “Where’s Sam?”

Jack curled his lip, distastefully. “Apparently Sam thinks he’s above cooking this evening. He’s reading.”

“If he’s above cooking, does that mean he won’t be eating with us?” Jared didn’t even bother trying to hide the hope in his voice.

Jack turned away, checking on the contents of the pan. “Don’t know, don’t care.” He turned back to Jared. “Arrogant son of a bitch thinks he should get first shot at Jensen because he’s the oldest.”

Jared felt a flutter of panic begin in his chest, “What did you say?”

“I said it would be Jensen’s decision. I trust he knows that he has to share a bed?”

Jared nodded.

“Then of the three of us I reckon he’ll choose yours.” He indicated towards the clothes on the table. “What are you planning on doing with those?”

Jared fingered the cuff of the shirt, smoothing it between his finger and his thumb. “I was going to put them in the grocery store.” They’d be taken in the morning when the fresh groceries were delivered.

“I’ll do it. You’d better get back to him before he dresses. You know there are things that have to be done.”

Jared banged his hands on the table as he stood up, puffing out a breath. “Lucky me.”

Jack grinned at him. “Get going. It means you get to touch him, that can’t be bad can it? I’ll hold dinner until you come out.”

Jared bit his lip, wanted to ask Jack if he’d do it, but didn’t. He was the one that had made overtures of friendship towards Jensen. He was the only one Jensen had spoken to. If there was any trust yet it would be directed towards him. He turned, resigned, and walked back towards the bathroom.

Jensen was still in the shower when Jared returned. He’d been surprised when Jared had taken his clothes earlier, without saying anything.

This time Jared walked towards him, but stayed clear of the water. “Jensen.”

He knew he wouldn’t have been able to stay in the shower all night, but he’d wanted a little while longer.

Jared held out his hand. “Please come here Jensen.”

Jensen turned the dial on the faucet and the water dropped to a trickle before stopping completely. Jensen didn’t know why Jared had added the ‘please’ to his request, it wasn’t as if he’d be able to refuse, but he appreciated it nevertheless. He took Jared’s hand and waited for Jared to make the next move.

He expected lust filled gazes but what he got, instead, was a large towel that Jared pulled off a shelf near the door. Jensen wrapped it round his body, relief surging through him.

Jared gave him a small smile and then turned, opening the cupboard beneath the nearest sink, taking out a large jar.

“This is something I can do, if you trust me, or it’s something you can do yourself if you don’t.” Jared spoke quietly, holding the jar in front of him, opening it to reveal a thick, subtly perfumed, white cream. “This needs to go on your body, covering you completely from your chin down.”

Jensen managed to find his voice, “What does it do?”

“It removes all the hair and destroys the root. Prevents it from growing back.”

“Ever?” It would be like being a little kid again.

“Yes, as far as I know.”

Jensen stared at the jar. At the thick cream that filled it. “Does it hurt?”

Jared smiled and took a little out with the ends of his fingers, “Tingles a little, but it doesn’t hurt.”

Jensen was half convinced he should just take the jar and ask Jared to leave, but what if he missed somewhere? Then Jared – or maybe one of the other two – would come in and finish the job. He had to get used to being touched and he could, at least he thought he could, trust Jared not to hurt him.

“Okay.” Jared took a small step back, away from Jensen and set the jar on the countertop. “You need to stand with your arms out and your legs apart. The cream will be on for about ten minutes. Then you’ll go back under the shower. I’ll help you clean it off. It can become a little irritating if you leave it on your skin for too long.”

Jensen didn’t want to think about this any more. He dropped the towel and assumed the position Jared described, closing his eyes as he did so. He was standing in front of the mirrored wall, would see Jared’s hands on his naked body, would see what Jared was doing … would .. would…

He listened to Jared’s voice, attempting to calm him, as he felt large hands on his back, cold cream, being spread onto shower heated skin. He recalled a distant memory of the beach and his mama slicking on the sunscreen. But this was nothing like that. He’d been safe under her hands now … now he was open, vulnerable. He knew he was going to have to get used to that feeling.

Jared saw the clench of jaw muscles, the crinkling of skin at the corners of screwed tight eyes, and he felt the coiled tension in every muscle he touched. He listened to the uneven breaths coming out of the anxious man’s mouth and knew that he had to do this quickly, but he couldn’t afford to make any mistakes here or they’d be doing this again in the morning. Jared’s hands smoothed down from his shoulders to the small of Jensen’s back. “There’s very little hair on most of your body, it’s already so smooth.”

The flush that crept across Jensen chest, to his face, either from embarrassment or suppressed anger, was enough to tell Jared that he should limit the commentary to as few words as possible.

He smothered long, thin arms in cream, first one, then the other. Took it to the tips of the fingers he first had to uncurl, and over the fine sprinkling of hair on the backs of his hands.

He’d questioned this once. He didn’t now. There were practical arguments for what he was doing, but the psychological ones were more compelling. Very few of the men that found themselves at the Centre had ever had homosexual relationships. Making the Gestate a little less masculine in appearance made them more attractive – at least in theory. It made them more pleasing to the eye and, hopefully, more worthy of protection and care. It stole from the Gestate, a little of his identity, a part of who he was, but it was also a permanent reminder that he was different. More than a mere man … even if, on more than one occasion, they thought of themselves as less.

Jared knelt behind Jensen, looking up at a waist he could probably encircle with his hands, and stopped. “Trust me, okay.” He didn’t give Jensen time to respond, instead he took more cream onto his fingers and slid them down into the hidden cleft between Jensen’s buttocks. He ignored the gasp and the fine tremor in too thin legs as he smoothed the cream round the concealed entrance to Jensen’s body. As Jensen, either consciously or subconsciously, attempted to clench his ass cheeks together Jared used one of his hands to part Jensen’s cheeks as best he could to ensure he hadn’t missed anywhere. Just as Jensen started to turn, started to say his name, he let him go.

He wondered whether Jensen would bolt at that point and psyched himself up for some more cajoling and sweet talking. He didn’t want to do this through intimidation. He didn’t want Jensen to be afraid of him. The trembling was still there, but it was less than it had been moments ago so he continued, sweeping all the way down the backs of Jensen’s legs to his ankles.

Pretty soon none of Jensen’s pale, freckle dusted skin was visible from Jared’s vantage point so he stood and moved round to face him.

Jensen’s eyes were still tightly closed and his fingers had already found their way back into fists.

Though Jensen must have sensed Jared moving in front of him he obviously hadn’t expected the hand on his face. “Jar…?”

“Shhh … you don’t want to get this in your mouth.” Fingers danced gently across Jensen’s blushing cheeks, over his top lip. “Think of it like this, you’ll be saved the bother of shaving every day. That has to be good right?”

Jared could see that Jensen was getting more upset, the rise and fall of his chest, the audible whistle in his breathing, a warning for the panic attack that was no doubt brewing.

“Almost done.” He slid his hands under Jensen’s arms and then across his chest, careful to circle the nipple, catch the hair that stood out a little darker than the ones sprinkled across the rest of his chest.

Jared had always been able to appreciate beauty, even the beauty of a man, but he tried not to focus too much on the parts of Jensen he had left to treat. He was aware of his own pulse rate picking up, of parts of his body already interested in the possible ways the flesh under his hands could be used.

He wouldn’t berate himself, he was conditioned to respond to the male form, but he knew that Jensen’s fragile control wouldn’t survive Jared’s arousal.

Thank God for loose clothes, he thought, as Jensen’s treasure trail disappeared in the wake of his hand.

Jensen desperately tried to control himself. It was almost over, there was only one place left for Jared to cover.

He felt a hand enveloping his dick, holding it away from his body, while another covered him with the cream. Every part, every inch. Jensen felt Jared’s fingers flutter round his balls and the base of his cock before going behind, back to his ass.

He needed to open his eyes then, needed to know where he was – and where he wasn’t. He wasn’t lying on a cold stone floor with the colored reflections of the Saints covering his body.

A bathroom.

The Centre.

Jared.

Jensen couldn’t get enough breath inside his body and he gulped air down, kept drawing it in. His chest tightening, the fear that had been lingering all day getting a firm grip…

“Shh. Shhh, Jensen. It’s alright. I’m done. Just a little while to wait now. Just a little while.”

He felt a finger just below his eye, sweeping away the tear he hadn’t realised he’d released.

“It’s alright Jensen. It’s alright.”

Jensen let Jared manoeuvre his body so that he could lean against one of the sinks and then he worked on calming himself down. The medication helped with this, helped with warding off the panic attacks before they began, helped with getting him back on an even keel if they couldn’t be prevented. It hadn’t even been three hours since his last dose… how the hell was he meant to cope with months of this?

How was he meant to survive it?

Part 3