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When Jared is two-years-old; a massive, scary, deafening burst of noise in his head leaves him shaking and wailing in his mothers arms, as she carries him around a shopping mall. His mother takes him to a doctor when he keeps tugging on his ears and slapping at his head. They examine him, and find nothing.
When he’s five, he doesn’t understand why no one believes him when says that the mailman was saying bad things about his mom. His dad sits him down and tells him it’s not nice to tell lies about people, and doesn’t listen when Jared cries and says he isn’t lying.
At nine-and-a-half, he tells his mom that he doesn’t wanna go play outside with the other kids. She sighs and tells him staying in his room all day isn’t good for him. At least in his room, it‘s mostly quiet.
At twelve, he gets in trouble at school for pushing a boy who called him a liar when Jared told his teacher how the boy’d bragged about killing his neighbour’s cat. His parents take him to a shrink after he tells them about how the boy’d burned the cat alive. He gets taken to another shrink after the neighbours find the carcass in a dumpster.
By the time he’s fifteen; he’s shy, withdrawn, and doesn’t have many friends. He spends hours everyday shut in his room, listening to the sound of his parent’s voices in his head, trying to discover how to keep them out.
He collects hundreds of webpage links about so-called cases of telepathy, nothing concrete or proven, and all of it, Jared suspects, completely fake. There’ve been lots of rumours over the last few years about people with weird powers, but there’s nothing about controlling them or getting rid of them.
Years spent studying rather than playing outside mean that Jared does well at school, and gets an academic scholarship to Stanford. His parents hug him and tell him how proud they are, while never saying how much they’re afraid he’ll be isolated, lonely, even more cut-off from other people. Jared hears it anyway.
Unable to bear being in large social groups; bombarded by every stray thought from those around him, he spends most of his time outside class alone, buried in books. Even though he can shut the voices out now, it still takes effort and makes him tired, and he tries not to do it all the time, just in case he can’t when he really needs to.
He’s standing in line at a Starbucks, trying to get some caffeine in him before he has to spend two hours in a lecture hall with a hundred other people; thoughts pounding on the barriers in his head as they scribble their notes in silence, when he jumps at the sudden sound of a voice.
Fuck, he’s hot.
He spins around where he’s standing, even though he knows the words weren’t said aloud, can’t actually see where they’re coming from. He concentrates on the wall behind his eyes, putting up brick after brick until the already-muffled noises in his head go silent.
Then it happens again.
Christ, look at the hands on him. Wonder if he’s that big all over.
Jared has never met anyone who could get past his shields when he’s got them all the way up, and the decidedly R-rated tone the - undeniably male - voice is projecting is making him a little uncomfortable. Jared’s known he was gay since he was sixteen and he gave Curt Spellman a handjob in the stall of a high school bathroom, following the train of his thoughts to know when to squeeze harder, when to twist his wrist. It was the first time he’d considered maybe this freaky power of his wasn’t all bad, that maybe he could use it for something that didn‘t feel like cheating, or an invasion of privacy.
It’s a moot point anyway, these days; so long spent avoiding other people he’s got no real clue how to deal with them anymore. The slightest attention focused on him has his eyes dropping to his feet, blush staining his cheeks, trying to find the fastest escape route. This is a level of intense interest he’s never experienced before, laser-like, cutting through every wall he has like a bullet through tissue-paper.
Gorgeous lips too, probably looks great on his knees, pink mouth all stretched out.
Fuck, Jared needs to get outta here. He gets a few weird looks as he finally gets to the counter, only to quickly turn around and head for the door, the sound of the voice seeming to follow him.
Tight little ass, bet he begs real pretty.
He walks faster.
The next afternoon is unseasonably bright and warm, and he’s sitting in the park near the campus, lost in a paperback, when the voice rings clear as a bell inside his skull.
Shit it’s him. Fuck he looks good all spread out on the grass like that.
Seriously, does this guy even have thoughts that aren’t sexual? He actually gets annoyed enough to raise his head and look around, eyes locking onto the guy standing on the path; grey tank top clinging and dark around his neck and armpits, headphones hanging loose from his collar, strong legs showing below his black shorts, and dammit the pervert would have to be gorgeous wouldn’t he?
Sexy Pervert doesn’t even bother to pretend he isn’t staring, apparently taking Jared’s glare for a sign of interest, and gives him a slow, flirtatious smile. Jared can feel the blood heating up his face, and he can’t help the way his head ducks or his eyes shift away.
God look at him, all flushed and sweating already, so fucking gorgeous.
Christ, why can’t he shut the guy out? Dragging himself up and to his feet, trying to get as far from the guy as possible before he does something he’s gonna regret later, he’s suddenly intercepted as the guy moves in front of him.
“Hey there, I’m Jensen.” The guy - Jensen, apparently - sticks out his hand and smiles like he’s never had a dirty thought in his life, the big liar.
Desire to get away warring with his polite upbringing and the fact that the guy is even hotter up-close, Jared slowly grasps the hand in front of him, gives an automatic shake.
Such long fingers.
Fucks sake. He barely manages not to yank his hand back, or smack the guy with it, but he knows his blush is flaring up again, hair falling into his eyes as he tries to hide his face.
“Jared.” Barely a murmur, but it’s something.
Wow, he’s actually shy. Wonder how much it’d take to get him loud and screaming for it.
“Nice to meet you, Jared, think I’ve seen you around campus. What’s your major?”
“E…English Lit. I wanna be a t…teacher.” The dichotomy between the stuff coming out of Jensen’s mouth and the stuff going on in his head is really confusing.
Fuck he even stutters. Since when is that hot?
“Wow, that’s really cool, man. I’m goin’ for engineering m’self.”
The southern drawl that reminds Jared of home is almost relaxing, if it weren’t for the same drawl whispering filth inside his head.
Was that a Texas accent? Fuck; gorgeous and sexy and smart and I can take him home.
“Getting a little ahead of yourself aren’t you?” Shit. It just spilled out; and the guy has gone totally still and wide-eyed and God Jared has to get out of here.
“Oh man did I say that out loud? I’m really sorry, I’m not usually so stupid” He actually looks really embarrassed, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck, it somehow makes Jared feel more comfortable, the panic over his slip-up fading.
“Don’t uh. Don’t worry about it.” He smiles a little, and it’s pathetic that this is one of the longest conversations he’s had in weeks.
Man, stammering should not be that hot.
“I don’t suppose you wanna get some coffee or something?” Smiling again now, softer though.
Coffee? Dinner? Movie? Come home with me and let me suck on your neck? Christ get a grip, Ackles.
“Yeah, that. That sounds good. The coffee I mean.” Cringing a little at the hasty way he says that last part.
Jensen is giving him a weird look, now, and Jared really needs to be alone and regroup before he just spills his beans all over the damn place.
“Okay, well how ‘bout tomorrow afternoon? Say three o’clock at the café near the quad?”
Then maybe I can blow you in the bathroom, or sneak us into the library and fuck you while we hide in the stacks, fingers stuffed in your pretty mouth to keep you quiet.
Jared is never gonna survive dating this guy. He can’t summon up a rejection though.
He thinks he should probably - and somewhat ironically - have his head examined.
He walks into the quiet little café the next day, taking a look around at the comfy sofas and squishy bean-bag chairs in the corners, the shelves of books along most of the walls, little tables with miss-matched chairs placed around them, and thinks Jensen maybe has a better read on him than he’d given him credit for.
Jensen is camped out on one of the empty sofas in a corner near the door; two steaming mugs sitting on the little table next to him. He looks really good in worn jeans and a soft green sweater, colour of his eyes standing out even from across the room. Jared feels kinda like the ugly duckling in his jeans and white button-down, black jacket keeping him warm. Jensen doesn’t seem to think so, though.
Holy shit he looks amazing. Wanna peel that jacket off him; get my hands all over him.
They sit and talk for hours; Jared fumbling and stuttering through most of the conversation as Jensen smiles and laughs and never once lets up on the stream of dirty thoughts Jared still can’t block.
If he’s totally honest he’s not really trying that hard anymore.
They go on two more dates after that; Jared growing more and more comfortable with Jensen as they sit in a dark movie theatre; Jared pretending to watch the movie while letting Jensen’s thoughts wash over him, the things he wants and thinks about Jared always surprising and more than a little hot. They walk aimlessly through the city for hours, shoulders bumping and hands brushing as they window-shop.
Jared thinks he could really like this guy; either despite his filthy mind or maybe a little because of it. Jensen’s thoughts have all-but stopped feeling like an intrusion now, instead becoming something he finds himself missing when Jensen isn’t around, Jared’s own mind seeming too-quiet and empty without that familiar presence.
Then he finds out that Jensen can control metal with his brain.
They’re walking back to campus after an awesome dinner at this Italian place Jensen heard about from a friend of his; their fingers are twined together, and there’s a soft smile on Jared’s lips as he listens to Jensen think about kissing Jared when they reach the campus, about pushing him against the doorframe and licking into his mouth.
They haven’t actually had sex yet, despite all the varied and imaginative ways Jared has heard Jensen think about it. Jensen gets that Jared is a little shy and more than a little nervous and awkward, and Jared would totally buy the southern gentleman act if it weren’t for the verbal porno always running in his head.
They’re debating the merits of the last two Star Wars movies - and seriously, who picks Return of the Jedi over Empire Strikes Back, cute Ewoks aside? - when a ragged-looking guy steps out from an alley brandishing a knife.
Jensen immediately moves in front of Jared, and Jared is too shocked and frozen to the spot to protest the movement. The guy is waving the knife with a shaking hand, totally crazed look in his eyes that just screams ‘drug addict in need of a fix’, demanding their watches and their wallets.
“Look, buddy, it ain’t gonna happen, alright? So just get lost before this gets outta hand.” Jensen sounds ridiculously calm, and every thought spilling from his head is watchJaredprotectJared. The guy is so out of his gourd he just sorta flings himself at Jensen, knife swinging wildly, and Jared is about to shove them both to the ground or to the side when the mugger freezes with a look of utter shock and confusion twisting his face. Jared suspects he looks much the same.
The knife came out of the guy’s hand somewhere mid-lunge, and is now suspended several feet up in the air, turning slowly on it’s axis like it’s got nothing better to do.
The addict-slash-mugger is gaping like a fish. Jared is just staring. Jensen is looking at the mugger, not appearing surprised in the least.
“Go, now. Before I do something I’m not even gonna regret.” He sounds totally serious, and the guy’s eyes dart from the knife to Jensen and back again, and then he’s running down the alley like all the hounds of hell are after him.
Jensen plucks the knife outta the air, tosses it down a sewer-grate with a look of disdain on his face, then turns to look at Jared. “You alright Jay? He didn’t hurt you did he?”
Jared is still looking at where the knife’d been floating, brain totally misfiring and unable to come up with an answer.
“Jay? C’mon man talk to me, you okay?” Jensen shakes him by the shoulders, gentle and firm all at once, and Jared comes back to himself a little.
“Yeah. I. Yeah I’m fine, I just. What the fuck was that Jen?” Wide eyes staring at Jensen like he’s never seen him before.
God fucking dammit.
“I. Shit, this is not how I wanted to do this. Can we. Would you come back to my place? I promise I’ll explain everything, okay? Just. Not here, huh?” He gestures around at the dark, quiet street, and yeah okay, maybe this should be done indoors at least.
Jensen’s thoughts are a total jumble as they make a quick pace to the dorms in silence, all flashes of can’t lose him and what if he freaks and a million other things Jared doesn’t quite catch.
They’re two steps into the tiny, generic room before Jared spins on his heels and levels a glare at Jensen. “Okay, you gonna explain how knives suddenly start floating in the air?” He knows he isn’t exactly being fair, not like he doesn’t have secrets, but he really doesn’t know what to think here, what this means.
“I. I’m kinda. I have. I can control metal. With my brain.” He gets it out in fits-and-starts, looking at Jared like he expects him to bolt at any moment.
“You. How?” Not the ideal response, but it’s the first one that comes to him.
“Okay, well it’s not metal, really. It’s magnetism. Near as I can figure, I can create magnetic fields around metal objects and use it to control them, manipulate them. It started when I was a kid, little things; paper clips’d float when I got near ‘em, metal stuff’d bend if I reached for it. Took me years but I finally got it under control, now. I was gonna tell you Jay, I swear. I just. I didn’t know how. ‘I kinda have a superpower’ isn’t exactly a conversation you know how’ta start, y’know?” He rambles and rushes his way through the explanation, hands waving and eyes pleading, and okay, this maybe is starting to feel like fate, a little.
“I kinda have a superpower.” Well that was genius, just spurt it out, jeez.
“You. What?” Clearly not the response he was expecting - seems to be the theme for the evening - Jensen looks about as confused as Jared did earlier.
“I have a. A power. I‘m a telepath. I can read minds.” Shit he has zero experience at this; even his goddamn parents don’t know this about him.
He. He can. Oh fuck my fucking life.
“You. So you hea-. All of it?” Cringing now, and this is the first time that Jared isn’t the one blushing between them. The whole thing’d be funny if it wasn’t so incredibly surreal.
“Uh, yeah. I can usually block it out if I try, but it. It’s never worked with you.” And that’s making a lot more sense now, the reason Jensen is so different apparently because Jensen really is different.
Wow Jensen’s face is really red, now.
“God, Jay I am so so sorry, I never would’ve. I didn’t think you’d-”
“Jen, it’s okay. I mean, sure at first it was a little much, but I got used to it, and I really like you and I kinda enjoy it now, if I’m honest. It’s not like you could’ve known, who meets someone and wonders if they can hear their thoughts, right?” He’s trying to sound reassuring, knows he’s blushing again.
He likes it?
“You like it?” Like an echo.
“I. Well, I’m not really ready for all the stuff that goes through your head.” Jensen’s blush overtaking Jared’s again now. “But, some of it. Yeah.”
So you can hear me? Right now?
Jared nods.
What the fuck are the odds of this?
“Yeah I was thinkin’ about that. Maybe the reason I can’t shut you out is because we’re both. Well, whatever it is we are. Like, maybe you’re on a different frequency or something?”
“I don’t hurt you with it do I?” Back to verbal words, guilt in his eyes now.
“No. God, no Jen, ‘course not. Like I said, everyone else I can block, you’re. Well it’s kinda nice actually, hearing you in here all the time.” He gestures vaguely at his head. “S’like having the radio on in the background y’know? You don’t realise how much you’ve gotten used to it ‘till it’s not there.” Best description he has for it, Jensen looking relieved and maybe a little amused.
“Dude, did you just compare me to easy-listening?” Mock-offence and hurt expression, lips quirking in a smirk.
“Oh shut up, just because you’re Mr Magnetism and everything.” Smile stretching across his face, a sudden thought occurs to him. “Hey, is this why you decided to be an engineer?” Gets him a smile.
“Well it’s much easier designing and building stuff when you can move steel girders and drill bolts in with a single thought.” Slightly smug expression as he shrugs.
“Such a show-off.” He shakes his head as he moves in closer for a kiss, feeling this weird sense of connection that he’s actually found someone who’s as weird as he is.
Lips softly brushing together, Jensen’s tongue sweeping across his lower lip, gentle nip of teeth. Jared hums and lets him in, sweet caress of tongues across one another, taste of Jensen in his mouth.
So, just which parts did you think you were ready for?