Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7636684.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural_RPF, CW_Network_RPF
  Relationship:
      Jensen_Ackles/Jared_Padalecki
  Character:
      Chad_Michael_Murray, Jeffrey_Dean_Morgan, Adrianne_Palicki, Jason_Momoa,
      Genevieve_Cortese
  Additional Tags:
      Violence, Homophobia, Slurs, Recreational_Drug_Use, Past_Underage,
      Watersports, Fights, Rough_Oral_Sex, fuckpig_verse, implied_fisting,
      Tattoos, Piercings
  Collections:
      Fuckpig_Verse
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-07-31 Words: 4198
****** Stay Down ******
by saltandbyrne
Summary
     Jensen can't really remember the first time someone called him a
     faggot.
     #fuckpig_verse_on_tumblr
     It starts here.
Notes
     This is the future of Fuckpig. This is after the first times, after
     everything changes but the song remains the same, after broken hearts
     and skinned knees and thousands of miles on the road. This is a crime
     against the state, this is the meaning of life.*
     (see end notes for possible triggery stuff)
See the end of the work for more notes
Jensen can't really remember the first time someone called him a faggot. Was he
eleven? Ten? Nine?

Children are mean as curs and they could smell it on him, early, before he knew
he didn't look at other girls the way his brothers did. Before he was twelve
and sucked Jenny O’Brien’s big brother’s dick in the back of their mom’s wood-
sided Oldsmobile station wagon off the old stadium access road, before he even
knew that faggot was the right kind of word for boys like him, not like spaz
and trailer trash and pretty boy.

Well. Pretty boy might not be so wrong either.

Utica, New York isn't a place anyone should visit but Fuckpig had played an
off-tour show to a college crowd and made back their gas money in spades.
Private school kids trying on their hipster skins before they do their five-
year tour of the big city, Jensen knows the type.

"It's a metal band, but like, everyone's gay.  They’re really popular on
tumblr."

Jensen's pre-show smoke break had been better than watching television. Is this
what his life would be like if he'd stayed home and stayed in school and dared
to say no to drugs? Girls with choppy bangs and tight-lipped boyfriends, tugged
along to hit up the bad side of town and pretend they're ever going to work for
a living.

"Guy on bass is bi."

Jensen had stubbed his smoke and flicked the butt at some wide-eyed phi beta
kappa catalog girl, winked, blown her constipated boyfriend a kiss. He loves
college towns.

They'd killed it on stage, like always, like Jared could pour anything less
than his huge heart into it. Jensen takes another drag, lets his shoulder seep
out some club heat onto the backdoor brick wall while Chad humps Adrianne's
bass drum to the van. He hefts it in and wipes his forehead with the hem of his
shredded TSOL shirt as he runs back inside.
A good show, a good night, and best of all, Jared's huge old heart all to
himself after.

He tugs his shorts up a little higher.
“That was not a pit.”
Jeff’s got his guitar over his shoulder and the sort of stubble that makes
Jensen’s thighs itch just looking at it. 
“Have you seen what passes for a pit these days? I’m telling you, I saw at
least one townie deck a frat boy.  Works for me.”
 Adrianne knocks the door open with her hip.  She’s wearing her usual uniform
of shit-kicking biker boots, skinny black jeans and an old wifebeater.  It’s
old and stretched thin enough to show her black sports bra and the massive
snake lady tattoo that twines around her torso to tail-fuck some Edo-period
version of Poison Ivy Rorschach. 
She swings her cymbal bag out as Chad dashes back in.  Jason flattens himself
out of the way, big hands clutching the neck of his bass bag.
“Did someone give him blow?”
Everyone looks at Jensen.  He shrugs.
“Not tonight.”
Chad’s back out with Adrianne’s chair in one hand (throne, Chad, it’s my
throne) and an expertly-coiled loop of cables over his skinny arm.  Chad’s the
smallest member of their road-worn family.  One night Adrianne and Jason had
taken turns squat-lifting him across their shoulders and Jensen had almost
pissed himself laughing.  Jared had scooped him up and done the same thing and
Jensen had ended the night getting fucked against the wall with his ankles out
in the Minnesota night.
“Faster we load up the faster I can find some loaded frat boy.”
Chad races back with Jason’s bass amp, all white teeth and whipcord muscle. 
Blow or not he’s got ant-strength that even Jensen can’t begrudge him.
“You gonna carry some shit or just stand there lookin’ pretty?”
Jensen knows he can’t really get wet between his legs but fuck does Jared make
him question that sometimes.
“Gotta keep up my girlish figure.”
He juts his hips out, slouches down a little so Jared can crowd into his
space.  His hands are always hot after a show, smelling like steel string and
sweat as Jared tucks them up along Jensen’s jaw.  He plucks Jensen’s cigarette
between his fingers.
“I was gonna suck your dick again but if you’re feelin’ girly…”
He takes a drag, arches his neck, and leans in so Jensen can just feel the
promise of his cock pressing through his jeans.  He’s not even hard yet.
Jensen turns his head, kisses along Jared’s knuckles, tracing over the C-U-N-
T tattoo stenciled over Jared’s skin.  It’s Jensen’s favorite.
Smoke billows out of the corner of Jared’s mouth as he smirks down at Jensen. 
“Greedy,” Jared whispers. He latches his thumb into the dip behind Jensen’s
ear, right over the little pig face Jason had stickpoked into his skin two
tours ago.  Jared has a matching one on the inside of his wrist, a little
memento for how deep Jensen had taken him the first time.
Jensen lets his lips drag over Jared’s skin, chapped skin catching on road life
calluses.  Up on stage Jared’s larger than life but when he dips down to kiss
Jensen nicotine-dizzy he’s just the right size to make Jensen’s neck arch and
his stomach swoop a little.
“Oh don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m happy to watch.”
Jensen turns, letting Jared’s lips drag across his cheek as he scowls at Chad’s
shit-eating grin.
“You wouldn’t even know I was there, I’m just sayin’.”
“Fuck off, Chad.”
Jared rolls off him with a groan, but not before he shoots Jensen a look that
could get him pregnant.  Jensen’s skin prickles.
“Suit yourselves, losers.  I’m gonna go plow something with a trust fund.”
Chad blows them a kiss and disappears down the side street, skipping a little
in his rank Vans.  He’s not allowed to take them off in closed quarters since
The Incident in Albuquerque and Jensen prays he keeps them on for whatever poor
soul he’s jackrabbiting his dick into that night.
“I’m all out of smokes, lovebirds.”
Jason smiles, his perma-bake eyes crinkling up at the corners. 
“I need sugar in liquid form,” Adrianne pipes in, followed by a loud crash and
a string of anatomically impossible curse words as she knocks over some of
Chad’s handiwork in the van.

“Saw a 7-11 a few blocks up.”
Jensen doesn’t really just sit around and look pretty.  Despite everyone’s fond
jokes about Jensen being a hood ornament, he pulls his weight just like the
rest of them.  Jared hands him a wad of sweat-soaked cash.
“The usual?”

Reds for him and Jared, Camels for Jeff, American Spirits if they've got 'em
for Jason and a goddamned cream soda for Adrianne.
“I’m good, kid.”  Jeff steps out of the van and shrugs on his leather jacket. 
It doesn’t matter that the rest of them are comfortable in t-shirts and
Jensen’s barely wearing any clothes.  Jeff’s as impervious to heat as he is to
social censure and safe words.  He sweats like it’s a favor to his endless line
of armpit worshipping Daddy’s boys.
“Got some pretty little thing locked up in a Colgate dorm room.”
He grins and flicks at the chain around his neck.  His dog tags clink against
the handful of keys that dangle just below his collarbone.  Jeff’s got a string
of subs that wait maiden-chaste in army barracks and prep school dormitories
across the country.  Jensen’s still not sure how he keeps all the cock cage
keys straight.
“You gonna let him out?”
Adrianne slams the van door and slings her arm over Jeff’s shoulder.  He shrugs
and gives her a knowing wink.
“See if he earns it.”
Jeff saunters off, no doubt to a waiting ride in some poor rich boy’s parent-
bought Acura.  Adrianne rolls her eyes and hops over to Jason, jumping on his
back and wrapping her long legs around his waist.
“If you carry me inside I’ll roll you a fatty.”
Jason heaves her up, catching her under the knees.
“Deal.”
“Soda!” she yells, looking back at Jensen as she bounces off on Jason’s back,
clinging to him like the giant octopus tattooed across her back.
“You want a piggyback ride, babydoll?”
Jared pouts his lips as Jensen rolls his eyes.
“Not really the kind of ride I had in mind.”
Jared kisses him, for real this time, a little out of nowhere and still, after
fifteen thousand miles coast to coast between them Jensen’s heart pounds in his
chest.  Fucking panty wetter.
“Oh, you are gonna get so fucked tonight, Jen.”
“Soda,” Jensen says weakly, his cock a little achey-hard and bubbling up wet at
the tip just from Jared’s paws on him.
“She’ll beat me up.”
Jared snorts and runs his hand down Jensen’s side, cupping it over Jensen’s
half-bare ass cheek.
“You want me to come with?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
He plants another kiss on Jared’s lips, right over the matched rings Gen had
added to his collection a few weeks ago.  Jared’s a fast healer.  The barbell
newly lodged between Jensen’s boy tits still itches like a motherfucker.
“Go inside and make sure Jason doesn’t chief the whole fucking thing again.”
Jared laughs and gives him one last good grind of his cock, fucking tease.
“Get you nice and baked before I put a bun in your-”
“Soda.”
 Jensen ducks out from under Jared’s arm, making sure to swing his ass as he
walks away.
 “Oh, babe, get me some-”
 “Sour straws. I know.”
 There are places on earth where time seems to bend a little.  A Target at 3
AM, the shoe repair shops where Jeff and Adrianne get their boots resoled, that
meditation center outside of Pittsburgh that Jason had dragged him to, Chad’s
house.
 The 7-11 in a last gasp strip of downtown Utica is definitely one.  Jensen
ignores the usual stares and crouches down to get Jared’s favorite sugar in
strip form.  They only sell cream soda in six-packs but Adrianne deserves a
treat.  Her girl had just put them up for a week and given them all some new
shiny things before they went back on the road. 
 Jensen dumps everything on the counter and hands the guy a stack of singles
that look like they’d glow under a black light.  The guy takes them with the
barest tips of his fingers, not even pretending to hide the sneer on his face. 
Jensen leaves the change and pushes the door open with his back.
It barely registers the first time.
Faggot.

Jensen's got two arms to manage a bag full of cream soda, three sleeves of sour
straws and four packs of cigarettes and the door's swinging behind him before
he hears it again.

“Hey, faggot.”

Jensen smiles. The guy's got a point.

“I'm talking to you.”

Jensen runs his tongue along his bottom lip, tracing over the jagged cocksucker
that's been staining his pout since he was fifteen.

Jensen's hungry and horny and a bunch of other shit that's not in a mood for a
fight. He hunches his shoulders down, ignoring how one of them falls free under
his stretched out Slayer shirt.  Jensen can be small when he needs to.

He shoves the candy in his back pocket, fighting that old voice in his head
that says he shouldn't have worn the short-shorts, the ones where the pockets
fall out to graze over his girlslut tattoos. His mother’s voice rings in his
head, why do you have to advertise it, honey, you know we love you but.
 He picks up his pace, tucking smokes into his pocket and staring down at the
bow tattoos looping over the tops of his thighs.  They're pretty and one of
them's half purple from Jared's mouth and Jared’s gonna fuck him till he cries
tonight.
Fuck this guy.  Jensen keeps walking, cursing himself for not wearing any rings
tonight.
 “Where you going, pretty boy?”
 One block to go and there’s still two of them behind him, laughing to each
other and matching his pace.  Don’t run and don’t look back.  Jensen walks past
the club marquee, still lit up with tonite hesh her glrybys f*ckpig.  He rounds
the corner of the alley and chances a look back.  They’re still there, one of
them leaning against the wall and looking back at the main street while the
other one stalks toward him.
 “Got some dick to suck, isn’t that why you boys are here, too?”
 Jensen spins around and winks, walking backwards.  The van’s a couple hundred
feet away but there’s no one else in sight.
 Fuck it.
 “What’d you say to me, faggot?”
 Jensen has a split second to make a decision.  He sighs and places the bag
with Adrianne’s soda safely on the ground, giving the guy enough time to close
in on him. 
 “Funny, that’s what your dad called me last-”
 The guy’s fist hits his face square. Blood blossoms in his mouth, an old taste
that makes Jensen smile pink through his teeth.

"My mama used to hit me harder than that."

He spits on the ground and rushes.

His shoulder makes meaty contact with a rib, layered under flab that might have
served this asshole on the high school football team but it'll just tire him
out now. The years aren't kind on the kind of poor that makes you fat.

Gravel sprays as they hit the ground.  Jensen's always been more comfortable in
the gutter. Packs of cigarettes and Jared’s candy fly out of his pockets as
Jensen lands a solid punch with his JAIL knuckles. 

The guy hisses out a stunned motherfucker and that’s the thing with bullies. 
They’re shocked when he fights back, every time.  The guy hits him in the ribs,
a crack that knocks the wind out of him but doesn’t buck him off.  That’s the
thing about being good in a fight.  It’s not so much what you give as how much
you can take and Jensen’s taken worse hits than that with a cock in his ass.

He's seen Adrianne go straight for the eyes more than once and Jensen's faggot
enough to gladly fight like a girl.  He’s got his thumb right up in the guy’s
eye socket when he feels hands around his chest and his first thought is he’s
gonna fucking kill someone if they pull out his new barbell.
He gets tossed face-first in the ground, twisting himself right in time to
catch a boot to the thigh inside of his ribs.  He moves to get up as fast as he
can, feeling a little panic rise now that it’s two-on-one but he’s had worse. 
He heaves up onto his knees, head spinning as he braces himself for another
kick.
 It doesn’t come.
 There’s a thud, a noise that sounds a few teeth short of a curse, and when
Jensen surges onto unsteady feet one guy’s running for his life and Jared’s
kneeling on the other one.
 Jensen can stand up for himself but watching Jared do it for him still makes
him weak in the knees.
 “Let me go,” the guy grunts, spitting out what Jensen’s pretty sure is at
least half of a tooth.
 “Let you go?”
 Jared punches him one more time, completely unnecessary and vicious and part
of Jensen wishes Jared really could get him knocked up sometimes.
 “You ok?”
 Jared’s got the guy by the throat as he looks up at Jensen, puppy-sweet for
one fleeting moment until Jensen nods.
 “What, this little love bite?”
 He pats at the blood on his lip, smiling.
 Jared nods, tight, any trace of sweetness seeping out of his face as he snarls
and wrenches the guy up by his neck.
 “What did you call him?”
 Jared heaves the guy onto his knees, Jared’s arm slung under his shoulder and
behind his neck in what Jensen vaguely recognizes as a half-nelson.  One arm is
trapped against Jared’s chest while the other flails uselessly in the air. 
Jared’s knee snakes around the guy’s thigh and he’s not going anywhere.
 Jared wrestled as a kid until he got kicked out for getting handsy with too
many of the boys, a fact Jensen has beat his dick to more than once.
 “I didn’t”
 “Say it.”
 The guy looks up at Jensen with enough desperate hatred to burn his skin off
if Jensen gave a fuck.
 “Faggot.”
 “Lucky you, you found two of ‘em.”
 Jared uses his free hand to stroke along the guy’s lower lip, so tender it
makes Jensen’s skin crawl to watch it.
 “You ever see a faggot’s dick before?”
 The guy’s eyes go white wide and he kicks up to struggle again, trying to
punch backwards at Jared.  Jared grabs his wrist and there’s a sickening pop
and then the guy’s straight-up sobbing. 
 “Show him, Jen.”
 Jensen hadn’t noticed his hard-on until now.  He bites his fat lip, popping
his button and tugging down the two-inches of zipper on his second-hand Jessica
Simpson for Walmart shorts.
 “Spend a lot of time thinking about it, what faggots like us do?”
 Jensen barely owns two pairs of underwear to rub together and he’s certainly
not wearing any now.  He pulls his cock out, marveling that he isn’t more
mortified by how fucking hard he is.
 He doesn’t know where this is going but he’ll go anywhere Jared takes him.
 “What the fuck,” the guy spits out, starting to thrash again until Jared grabs
his jaw. 
 “Coulda fooled me, chasin’ that sweet piece of ass all the way back here.”
 Jared looks up at Jensen, juts his chin to beckon him closer.  Jensen steps
in, hand stroking his cock and something like love coiling in his bruised ribs.
 “C’mon, Jen, can’t let the man go without getting some.”
 Jared pinches his fingers in on the guy’s cheeks, hard enough to fish-gape his
lips open.  The F-U-C-K on Jared’s left knuckles stacks up under the forced
pout on the guy’s mouth.
 “He’s a dirty boy, my Jen.  Does all the nasty faggot shit I like.”
 Teeth clenched and eyes rolling in sheer terror the guy makes a slaughterhouse
noise as Jared looks up at Jensen, face lit up like a roman candle.
 “Piss in his mouth.”
 Jensen swallows.  There are tears streaming down the guy’s face and he and
Jared are the same kind of sick inside.  He steps in closer.
 There’s a few heavy seconds, hissed in breaths whistling through Jensen’s
teeth and a hint of doubt flickering across Jared’s face until the first stream
of piss splashes onto the guy’s nose.  Jared groans as Jensen lets the rest go.
 “That’s my boy.”
 The guy’s screams sound wet, bubbling through his grit teeth as Jensen gets
his aim right.  He lets the last of it hit the guy’s eye, because fuck you. 
Jared laughs, devil handsome with a black eye blooming across his face and
Jensen’s piss dripping on his hand.  Jared doesn’t give a fuck.
 “Aw, he didn’t save any for me.”
 Jared pulls the guy’s head back just enough to plant a kiss on his lips,
filthy, shameless, wet and loud, all the things about Jared that make his blood
sing.
 “Now go tell your friends how some pretty little faggot wouldn’t even fuck
your mouth.”
 Jared lurches up and shoves the guy forward, letting him stumble onto his
hands and knees before he staggers up.  Jensen half-tucks his dick back in and
braces himself for the guy to fight back but he doesn’t, just lumbers a few
feet before he pukes against the wall and runs back to whatever shithole he
came from.
 “Are you two fucking out here, I want my-”
 Adrianne’s mouth opens and closes a few times as she takes in Jared and Jensen
leaning against one another, panting for breath and bloodied up.
 “Oh Jesus.”
 “It’s fine.”
 Jensen puts his hand up.
 “Are you-”
 “Ade, unless you feel like watching me suck a dick you should go back inside
right now.”
 “I, yeah.”
 She throws up her hands, frowning at his split lip.
 “You sure you’re…”
 Jensen’s not really listening anymore, not when he’s got both hands in the
waistband of Jared’s pants.  He drops to his knees, nuzzling right against the
fat line of Jared’s hard cock. 
 “Jen, we should, fuck,” Jared growls, his hands going into Jensen’s hair even
as he tries to say something sensible and stupid like we should leave.
 Jensen rips Jared’s fly open faster than he should.  Jensen’s not the only one
who never wears underwear.  Jared reaches down to help but Jensen bats his hand
away, greedy for it.  He tugs Jared’s pants down, split knuckles dragging
against Jared’s hips until his cock is free for Jensen to steal.
 Jared’s the musician but Jensen could write songs about that cock, epic poems,
Homeric hymns to the eponymous Cuntwrecker.  He wraps a hand around the base,
stroking up up up until a clear stream of precome glistens on the fat metal
ring.  And yeah, it was easier when he was fourteen but he can still stack both
his hands on it and suck the thick ring of his prince albert with spit room to
spare.
 He purses his lips and closes his eyes.  Jensen always kisses it like he loves
it first.
 “Jen, Jesus, I never, I’d never,” Jared babbles, his hands cupping reflex
ready over the back of Jensen’s head.  Jensen looks up, dragging the head
across the blood red gash in his lip.
 “They don’t get to hurt you.”
 There’s places where time doesn’t work right, locked bathrooms with his Daddy
quoting Leviticus outside, classrooms full of kids who look on blankly while he
loses his baby teeth early to some preacher’s oldest boy, locker rooms where
the boy he’d kissed last week kicks him in the stomach until he pisses himself,
places where time stood still while Jensen was somewhere else entirely.
 Jensen can feel every second pounding in his heart when Jared slides his cock
between his bloody lips.
 He takes it as far as he can, never all the way because God only made one end
of Jensen big enough for that.  Spit warm metal hits the back of his throat and
that’ll explain the tears in his eyes.
 “Never, never, I’d fucking, Jensen.”
 Jared’s been screaming all night but this is a different kind of wrecked.  His
right hand, his strumming cunting working glorious fucking hand molds over
Jensen’s hollow-sucked cheek before he forces two, three, four of his fingers
in alongside his cock.  Jensen’s lips could tear at the seam and he wouldn’t
stop him, not when he can taste Jared’s bloody lovesick knuckles on the tip of
his cocksucker tongue. 
 Jared says his name when he comes.  Every time.
 Jensen’s dizzy and swallowing and hard as fuck when he stands up, a little
giddy as the world spins around him. 
 “Let me,” Jared tries, but Jensen just tucks Jared’s still-huge cock back into
his pants.
“Later.”
 Jensen winces as his own dick screams at him for being the sensible one for
once.
“We should go.”
 The side door opens with a slam.
 “Is it safe?” Adrianne stage-whispers, her head poking out.  Jason appears
behind her in a cloud of smoke like someone turned a bong hit into a real boy.
 “Saved you the roach,” Jason grins, raising his split eyebrow as Jared
staggers toward him.
 “Give it.”
 Jared sparks the meager end of what must have been an impressive joint.  True
to form, Adrianne had rolled a fucking filter into it.  Short of having a dick
there’s nothing she’s not the best at.
 “Ade and I are gonna check out the bartender’s local hospitality.”
 Jason grins, that placid stretch that means he’s going to fuck someone until
they leave the earthly plane.
 “He and his wife are both bi-curious,” Adrianne cackles, flicking her tongue
between the Barbie legs tattooed inside her middle and index fingers.  She’s as
classy as she is capable.
 Jared passes the last of the joint to Jensen just in time to catch the van
keys Adrianne tosses.  She ambles off with her arm slung around Jason’s waist. 
 “Your fucking soda’s in that bag over there,” Jensen yells as he catches a
final snippet of their conversation.
 “Can I fuck the wifey, too?”
 “She won’t have anything left by the time I’m done, big guy.”
 Jared rolls his eyes, which has to hurt a little with the shiner blossoming
over his eyelid.
 “Let’s move this van before fuckboy brings a lynch mob, yeah?”
 Jared leans down to shotgun the last hit from Jensen’s lungs, kissing him in
the held-breath moment before time lurches back to claim them.
 “And then I’m gonna fuck you till you have to piss again.”
 Jensen wraps his arms around Jared’s shoulders, needing him close for one more
second as he shakes his head no.
 “Gonna come on your hand first.”
 He smiles at the needy growl Jared makes, leaning up on the tip toes of his
pink cons to whisper in Jared’s ear.
 “Want you to fuck me like a faggot.”
 Jensen’s a fucking faggot but so is the man he loves.
End Notes
     Spoilery: this is violent, really violent, with Jensen the victim of
     a homophobic hate crime and Jared retaliating in kind. There's piss
     and the threat of sexual violence. There are mentions of sex when
     Jensen is 12 and 14. This won't be for the faint of heart.
     *(thanks Zep and Talking Heads)
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!