Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/155834.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural_RPF
  Relationship:
      Jensen_Ackles/Jared_Padalecki
  Character:
      Jensen_Ackles, Jared_Padalecki, Christian_Kane
  Additional Tags:
      Alternature_Universe, First_Time, Hurt/Comfort, Attempted_Rape, Alternate
      Universe_-_Religious, Religious_Themes_&_References
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-01-25 Words: 3968
****** This Wide World ******
by Liralen
Summary
     Amish teen Jensen is staying with his cousin, Chris, during his
     'Rumpspringa'--the time in a teenager's life where they explore the
     outside world and decide whether they want to join the rest of the
     world or remain in the community and be baptized as Amish. Things go
     from confusing to frightening for naive Jensen, and a tall, shaggy-
     haired stranger comes to his rescue.
There was absolutely nothing in Jensen's previous 16 years of life to compare
this to. The "party" raging in Chris's apartment—deafening, whirling, multi-
colored and scented by soap, smoke, perfume and alcohol—defied Jensen's powers
of imagination or comprehension.
The closest he'd ever come to feeling this overwhelmed, this completely
surrounded and awed and lost, had been a meteor shower he'd watched when he was
seven from the center of an empty field. Nothing but wheat and sky and stars as
far as he could see, and he'd thought at first that the world was ending, the
night falling down around him in flames to burn him up. The fear and
fascination he'd felt in those silent minutes before dawn was a thousandth of
what he felt right now, and so far all he'd done at the party was stand and
stare.
Chris was the only person in the whole world that Jensen knew outside of the
community. He'd been Jensen's favorite cousin growing up, and ever since Chris
had left the community and gone to "live English" four years ago, Jensen had
been waiting for his Rumspringa and the chance it would afford him to see the
other boy again. It would be his only chance. Like all friends who chose to
live English instead of by the Ordnung, Chris had been officially shunned, and
was no longer part of Jensen's family as far as the community was concerned.
Once Jensen returned and underwent his baptism, Chris would be effectively dead
to him.
So he'd rallied his courage and the money he'd scraped together doing odd jobs
in town and he'd taken the bus from Fort Scott to Lawrence, where Chris went to
school at the University of Kansas. It was a matter of 100 miles, give or take,
and the farthest Jensen had ever been from home. Chris had welcomed his younger
cousin with open arms and set himself seriously to the task of giving Jensen a
no-expenses-spared "normal" teenage experience.
He'd shown up in Lawrence three days ago, and Jensen felt like he hadn't
stopped moving since.
"The keg's in the bathroom," someone yelled at him over the music, and Jensen
turned to face a dark-haired college kid who was watching him.
"Um…what?"
The guy gestured over his shoulder. "The keg, it's in the tub. You looked kinda
lost, I thought that might be what you were looking for."
"Oh." Jensen nodded knowingly, then shook his head. "No, I was—"
He stopped himself from saying "trying to find a place to hide" and asked
instead, "What's a keg?"
* * *
Half an hour later, Jensen had become intimately familiar with his new friend,
the Keg, downing two sticky plastic cups of beer from the thing, and spilling a
third all over his jeans when a girl he'd never met before grabbed him by the
hips and tried to grind herself against his thigh. His other new friend, Tom,
the dark-haired boy, had found the whole thing incredibly funny and had
gathered a number of other guys to tell the story to.
"So you're Chris's cousin from the cult," a blond guy said; Jensen didn't
remember his name, but he thought he was Chris's roommate. The blond guy gave
Jensen a slow look up and down, and there was something in his eyes when their
gazes met again that made Jensen's face flush. He'd never had anyone look at
him like that before. "He never mentioned how pretty you were. Wouldn't even
show us a picture from home."
"He has no pictures from home," Jensen said, because he didn't have the first
idea how to address the unexpected (and uncomfortable) compliment. "It is
forbidden to have our picture taken. To examine and praise one's own image
inspires pride and covetousness."
The blond guy lifted a brow, his gaze still moving lazily over Jensen as he
stepped closer, until Jensen could feel the warmth of his breath when he spoke.
"How about a mirror? You allowed to have those, pretty? Or," the guy's mouth
curled on a slow smile, "do you have no idea just how hot you are?"
Jensen's pulse fluttered in his neck and he licked his lips, feeling his face
go tight and hot when the guy's gaze dropped to his mouth.
"O—only for the face, for when we shave," he stammered. "I, uh—if you will
please excuse me, I—"
He was already backing away, headed for the door, but the blond guy followed,
undeterred and still smiling. "Hey, where you going, gorgeous? Don't wanna
talk?"
"Just—uh, I just need some air—" Jensen floundered, getting the door open and
stumbling down the steps and out into the cool, blissfully quiet night.
He didn't realize his mistake until there was an arm around his waist and a
hard chest against his back, pushing him further away from the party and the
safety of the apartment.
"Shh," the blond guy soothed as Jensen tensed and tried to pull away. "Hey,
you're fine. I just want to talk, get to know you better. That's all." The hand
on his side slid down and in to press his stomach, dipping just under the
waistband of his jeans. "You wanna get to know me, too, don't you? Isn't that
why you're here, to have a little fun?"
Jensen jerked away and spun to face the guy, panting. The guy was still
smiling, but his eyes had gone cold and hard, and his tone was full of warning.
"Careful. You don't want to do anything stupid and get yourself hurt. Chris
would be so upset."
His head pounding with adrenaline, Jensen tried to bolt past the man and run,
back to the apartment and the only person he knew in the whole city, but it was
futile. The guy caught him neatly and pulled him close, pressing his mouth hard
against Jensen's.
Jensen knew it was a kiss, although he'd never had one before. The only kisses
he'd ever seen were quick exchanges between married couples, or formal
greetings between the pastor's wife and women of the congregation; a dry,
chaste brush of mouths. They were nothing like what the guy was doing to him
now, biting at his lips and sucking wetly, thrusting his tongue into Jensen's
mouth. Wrestling between the urge to get away and an upbringing that had always
taught him not to fight back against anyone who tried to draw him into
violence, Jensen struggled and squirmed. He got an arm up and shoved at the
guy, who immediately shoved back hard in return. Jensen stumbled back a step
and cried out in pained surprise as he crashed into the side of the apartment
building, his head smacking off the brick and crowding his vision with stars.
Hands seized his shoulders, and without giving himself time to think Jensen
struck out blindly, his fingers curved into claws. He heard the blond guy yelp
in pain and felt a brief surge of relief, followed quickly by shame. He'd done
violence to another person. It was nothing to take pleasure in.
"Little bitch," the guy swore, lashing out with a closed hand. Pain exploded
across Jensen's face, and he thought about passing out. He was pretty sure he
could manage it if he just let himself, and then at least he wouldn't have to
feel the guy hurt him anymore.
He felt the blond guy moving in again and choked on a cry, prepared for the
next blow, when suddenly he heard a new voice calling out: "Hey, what's going
on here?"
"Nothing," the blond guy grunted, trying to get a hand over Jensen's mouth, but
he was already crying out—"Help! Oh God, please help me!"
"You stupid little whore," the blond guy spit, close up and seething, and
Jensen caught a single glimpse of a tall silhouette over his shoulder before
the blond guy drove his fist into Jensen's cheek, and everything went black.
* * *
He woke up in a room he'd never seen, in a bed that was not his, to a face he
didn't know, with a stranger's hands on him.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy!" the stranger said, immediately lifting his hands away
and holding them up palms-out, sitting back on his heels to give Jensen some
space. "It's alright, you're okay. I'm not gonna hurt you."
"Who are you? Where—where am I?" He put a hand to his face and winced, flinched
back when the guy swayed close again. "Do not touch me!"
"Okay, hey, I'm sorry." The guy looked genuinely apologetic, knotting his hands
together in his lap and giving Jensen a tentative smile as he peered up at his
through a thick fringe of dark hair. "I'm Jared. You're in my apartment. You
passed out, and I didn't know where else to take you. I, uh…" Jared hesitated,
then continued sheepishly, "I heard you in the street, having a fight with your
boyfriend? Looked like you could use some help."
Jensen shuddered as the memories returned to him—the party, the blond-haired
guy, the hands that had clutched at him and the mouth that had bitten and
bruised. He swallowed thickly and shook his head.
"He was not my friend. I do not even know him, I met him at the party and he—"
Jensen broke off, turning his face away against the pillow to hide his blush.
He startled when he felt the guy—Jared—reach out and put a hand over his own,
but the touch stayed light and gentle, careful, and Jensen relaxed into it.
"Then I'm even more glad I took that route home tonight," Jared said. "I hate
to even think about what might have happened if I hadn't heard you."
His voice was low and warm, and Jensen found himself tipping his head around
again to meet Jared's soft smile. Examining the other man for the first time,
Jensen realizes Jared wasn't much older than he was—18, maybe 19 at most. His
dark hair hung in tangles around his face, falling over slanted hazel eyes, and
although he was still kneeling next to the bed, Jensen took in the size of the
hand covering his own and remembered the silhouette he'd glimpsed right before
blacking out, and he knew that standing Jared would tower over him.
"He wouldn't stop." Jensen bit his lip, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
"I don't know what he wanted. He just wouldn't let me go."
Something dark moved behind Jared's eyes, something that told Jensen that Jared
understood exactly what the blond guy had wanted, but all the older boy said
was, "You aren't from around here, are you?"
At Jensen's blank look, Jared continued, "Your, uh, your accent. I don't know
what it is, but… are you an exchange student? Because you should probably
report this guy to your host family, or the program, or…shit, the police."
Jensen blushed for an entirely new reason. He felt suddenly hyper-aware of
himself and his position, and struggled to sit up in bed, drawing the blanket
up under his arms. Jared rose smoothly to his feet—and Jensen's guess had been
right, he was ridiculously tall—and pulled a chair over to sit down beside the
bed.
"No, I, um… I am from here. I mean, not from Lawrence, but I am from Kansas."
Jensen ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "My accent is German. I
am from Fort Scott." When Jared continued to stare blankly, he went on, "I'm
Amish."
Jared's expression underwent an interesting series of transformations, finally
settling on mild surprise.
"Oh," Jared said. "That's… huh, I wouldn't have guessed that. I mean, you don't
look like—not that I really know how you should—"
He trailed off, gesturing at Jensen's clothing and looking as embarrassed and
tongue-tied as Jensen felt. He breathed out softly in relief and smiled.
"No, you are right—this is not how I usually dress. These are my cousin's
clothes."
He explained to Jared about growing up in the community, about the strict laws
of the ordnung and about the Rumspringa, his time away from the community to
explore the outside world, and how he'd ended up in Lawrence—and the situation
Jared had found him in.
"That is why—well, I did not really know what to do. It is not something that
would ever happen in the community," he concluded, a little wry.
"It's not something that should ever happen, anywhere," Jared said firmly, eyes
surprisingly fierce, and Jensen felt a strange pleasurable twist in his stomach
before Jared's expression softened. "But it does, sometimes. I hope it hasn't
put you off of the city—Lawrence is a pretty nice place, most of the time."
Jensen smiled. "I think I could give it another try."
Jared turned just a touch pink, and that pleasant ache returned, warming
Jensen's stomach. "So, hey, uh—are you hungry? I haven't had dinner yet and I
was just gonna nuke some pizza, plenty for two. You should probably call your
cousin too, let him know you're okay."
Jared was babbling—Jensen admitted privately that it was kind of cute—but he
broke off when he held out a cordless phone and Jensen simply stared.
"Oh, damn. You—you don't know how to call, do you?"
"I've used a phone before," Jensen replied, a little sharper than he'd
intended. He softened. "They have them in town, and we can use them in
emergencies. But, um—I do not know Chris's number."
Spying Jared's worried frown, Jensen hurried to reassure him. "He probably will
not notice I am gone until morning, anyway. He was very intoxicated." When that
only seemed to upset Jared more, Jensen tried changing tack. "What's on the
pizza? And what's 'nuke'?"
* * *
Of all the new things Jensen had experienced in the past three days, Hawaiian-
style pizza was definitely his favorite. Hawaiian-style pizza, and grape soda,
and what Jared called 'guy movies', like the one they were watching now about a
police officer who was trying to stop a group of bad guys from stealing money
and hurting people at the place where the police officer's wife worked. The cop
got hurt a lot, especially when he lost his shoes, and he even shot people,
something Jensen had thought would be scary—but it was all so silly and fake,
and the cop said such funny things, and Jared was so warm and loud laughing
next to him, then Jensen just threw his head back and laughed with him.
If he was honest with himself, Jared was really his very favorite thing so far
in the outside world. Jensen liked him even better than the pizza, and he liked
the pizza a lot. But he was pretty sure that was the kind of thing he wasn't
supposed to say to Jared.
"Candy?" Jared asked as the movie stopped for a moment and changed to an
advertisement for laundry detergent. He held out a big handful of small
colorful discs to Jensen, brown and blue and orange and yellow and red and
green, and Jensen accepted them trustingly, popping them into his mouth. He
recognized the flavor once he bit down—he'd had chocolate before, rarely, and
peanut butter, but never together, and the combination of flavors and textures,
the smoothness and crunch, was unlike anything he'd ever tasted before.
He must have made some kind of noise, because Jared glanced over at him and
grinned.
"Good?" he asked teasingly. Jensen nodded and licks his lips, unable bite back
a little groan, and the gentle heat in Jared's eyes flared and slammed into
him.
It was the same way the blond guy had looked at him at the party, in the
beginning, but the way it twisted Jensen up inside felt completely different.
Jared didn't make any move to press closer, didn't try to draw Jensen in with
his gaze or his smile. He didn't even seem to be aware that he was staring
until Jensen licked his lips again, slow and deliberate, and Jared's eyes
widened.
"Fuck. Sorry. Jesus, I'm sorry." Jared snapped his head around to face the TV
again, breathing a little fast, and squeezed his eyes shut tight. "Oh, my god,
I'm so fucking sorry. You just almost got raped and I—fuck, I'm sorry."
"Jared."
"I'm not going to do anything, I won't touch you!" Jared's voice was rising,
hitting a panicked note. "I didn't mean—maybe I should call you a cab. Yeah.
Your cousin's apartment is near where I found you, right? I can give the cabbie
directions."
Jared was still babbling as he pushed up from the couch, and Jensen had to make
a split-second decision. When his hand shot out and caught Jared's elbow, he
wasn't sure which of them was more surprised.
"You don't have to call a cab," Jensen said, voice sounding rough to his own
ears. "It's okay. I am not scared of you. You aren't—you haven't done anything
to me, and I do not think you are going to, and, Jared, god, I want to kiss
you."
He watched the bump of Jared's Adam's apple bob and click as he swallowed. When
Jensen tugged lightly at his arm Jared came willingly, settling back down on
the couch in exactly the spot he'd sat before. After a long moment his gaze
slid over to meet Jensen's, thoughtful and assessing.
"Have you ever, um—?"
"No," Jensen answered quickly. Then he reconsidered. Uneasy, he said, "That
guy, tonight—he, he, uh—but I didn't—it wasn't what I—"
"That wasn't a kiss." Jensen frowned, confused, because despite his limited
firsthand experience he was pretty certain that had been a kiss, but Jared just
shook his head. "That was just him putting his mouth on you. It's only a kiss
if you both want it."
"Oh." Jensen bit his lip, wanting to look away but forcing himself to hold
Jared's gaze. He swallowed. "Jared, will you—please—I want—"
He didn't get any further with his stammering, because Jared's mouth was
suddenly there, and he had been telling the truth: this was a kiss.
It was nothing like the harsh, painful demand the blond guy had made of his
mouth. Jared's lips were warm and slightly parted, impossibly soft, just
pressing gently for a long moment before he began to move slowly against
Jensen. The kiss stayed slow, a languorous slide of mouths and light swipes of
tongue across the seam of Jensen's lips, and then Jared was pulling back, hazel
eyes gone dark and hot as they studied Jensen.
"How was that?" Jared asked, and Jensen liked the way he sounded a little out
of breath, his low voice strained and rough. He kept flicking tiny glances down
at Jensen's mouth, and it made him feel too hot in the best possible way now,
made his skin tingle and his dick go hard in his jeans.
"Way, way better than the candy," Jensen said sincerely, reaching for Jared's
face, and Jared came to him laughing, cupping Jensen's face in both huge hands
and grinning into the kiss.
"That's maybe the best compliment anyone's ever given me," Jared teased, warmth
lingering in his voice. He swept his thumbs lightly over Jensen's cheekbones,
and Jensen felt like one of the barn cats back home, leaning shamelessly into
the touch and practically purring his pleasure.
"You are so beautiful," Jared breathed, dragging the pad of his thumb over
Jensen's bottom lip. "I know, I know I'm not supposed to say that—or, well,
you're not supposed to think it—but God, Jensen, you are. You're the most
beautiful person I've ever met. And the fact that you don't know that is just…
really kind of hot, actually."
Jensen closed his eyes against a fierce blush—part embarrassment, part want,
and a tiny hint of pride—and surged up against Jared, wrapping his fingers in
the older boy's long hair and sliding his tongue daringly into that warm mouth.
Jared shivered and made a noise that Jensen wanted to hear a hundred more
times, tilting his head to fit their mouths together at a better, deeper angle,
and when Jensen tugged lightly at his hair and leaned back, Jared followed him
down to the couch and covered his body with a groan.
"Jensen," he gasped, those big hands sliding down to Jensen's shoulders before
they stopped abruptly, squeezing like Jared was trying to remind himself to
keep them there. "Jensen, you don't have to—we don't have to do anything, I
know you've never—oh, god, you've never done anything with anyone, oh holy
fuck—"
"Want to," Jensen panted back, keeping one hand fisted in Jared's hair and
wrapping the other around his waist, just in case he got any ideas about
pulling away. "God, it's okay, I want to. I don't know how to—I mean, I don't
know what two guys do together, but I've—I've touched myself before and—"
"Oh my god, you have to stop talking right now before I come," Jared groaned,
but Jensen could feel him grinning against his throat and knew he wasn't mad.
"Just—anything," Jensen begged, back arching and pulse spiking as Jared dragged
his hot mouth down Jensen's neck. "Just this, god, that's good, just want to
feel you."
Jared didn't respond, busy teasing Jensen's neck and collarbone with licks and
nips, sucking hard at the base of Jensen's throat. One of his hands moved to
Jensen's stomach, rubbing wide, soothing circles, then paused for a long moment
before slipping under his shirt.
"Just tell me if anything is too much—"
"Jared, please," Jensen whined, and Jared laughed shakily and worked Jensen's
t-shirt up.
It was almost painful, how good it felt to have Jared's hands on his bare skin,
Jared's mouth, hot as a brand, searing along his ribs. He sealed his mouth over
Jensen's nipple and flicked it with his tongue, and Jensen felt the pleasure
stab from his chest straight into his groin. A few minutes of that and Jensen
was arching shamelessly, legs spread wide and fingers tight in Jared's hair. It
didn't seem possible for anything to feel so good, it felt like the kind of
thing that would break him if it didn't stop, and yet all he wanted was more.
And then Jared's wide palm cupped between his thighs, rubbing firmly at his
dick through his jeans, and Jared's mouth covered his again in a hungry kiss,
and Jensen cursed unintelligibly and came so hard that for a moment he couldn't
hear or see anything.
When he opened his eyes again Jared was watching him with a small smile. He
pressed a chaste kiss to Jensen's lips, then his cheek, and Jensen blinked at
him in amazement.
"I think I love you," he blurted out, still lazy and stunned and most of his
brain shut down. Jared just laughed and nuzzled behind Jensen's jaw.
"Well, I was going to ask if I could take you out sometime and show you some of
my favorite parts of the city," he said, dragging a protesting Jensen up off
the couch and into his bedroom where he stripped them both, before leading
Jensen down to the infinitely more comfortable bed. "But if you love me, I
guess I can assume your answer would be 'yes'."
"Mm, yep," Jensen answered agreeably. His body felt newly heavy, and Jared was
so warm draped over and curled around him. He hoped the older boy didn't mind
if he fell asleep. "Sure, yes. What was the question?"
Jared's laughter was soft against his ear, nearly as soft as a sweet, final
kiss. "Doesn't matter. I'll ask you in the morning."
 
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