Paranormal 101: Part Three

[dugindeep]

A month in and Jensen has to admit Jared has caught on quick. He masters the equipment, plays up the appropriate reactions onscreen during their hunts, and calms down from the nervous excitement he’d been carrying in those early days.

Better yet, he’s taken to asking Jensen worthwhile questions while they’re working, like he’s not just keeping up, but wants to fly with the rest of the crew. And he’s grasped the way each of the guys is comfortable travelling.

Like right now, without a word, Jared passes a tall, covered cup of coffee to Jensen as the two of them wait for Chris and Matt to take handle the rental car.

Jensen glances up and just barely manages not to smile as he glances at the cup, Jared’s hand on it, then the easy way Jared’s looking right back at him. Jared is continually friendly, open, and armed with a loose smile that deepens his dimples. It all means Jensen has lost use of his words, a bit transfixed by that look.

Jared wiggles the cup and Jensen clears his throat, shakes his head, and finally takes the coffee. Jared’s smile turns warm, and Jensen hides any reaction behind the lip of the cover as he watches Matt and Chris at the rental counter right near the exit they’ll take shortly.

For the next five minutes, Jensen drinks coffee and sneaks glances at Jared, who’s still looking amused while watching the Matt and Chris and nodding his head to whatever music is playing through his ear buds.

It’s amazing that Jared is this easy when they’re about to spend six hours locked up in Waverly Hills, a mental hospital that’s been shut down since the 1980s. It’s still hilarious, though, that little twitches sometimes make Jared jump, like Jensen’s cell phone ringing from his front pocket right now.

Jared rips his ear buds out in shock and Jensen mumbles, “Easy there, boy,” as he pulls his phone out.

“I’m fine,” Jared insists. Then proves himself wrong when Matt slaps his back, making him stumble a few steps with a sharp yelp.

“Yeah, you’re just perfect,” Jensen laughs, following the guys outside and half listening to the groundskeeper giving him instructions for their morning meeting.

Jensen and Jared hop into the back seats of their rented SUV and as Jensen pulls out his file on Waverly Hills, Jared shuffles across the bench seat, right up against Jensen, and reads over his shoulder. He’s been doing this more often lately and Jensen realizes a few seconds later that he doesn’t even shrug him off anymore.

“How do you think the ghosts get up that hill?” Jared asks.

Jensen glances at him and starts to smile at Jared’s playfully naïve expression. “You’re an idiot.”

Jared nudges his shoulder to Jensen’s and chuckles. “You don’t think I’m serious?”

“I sure hope,” Jensen begins slowly, going back to his reading, “that you’ve learned more than corny ass jokes since you’ve been here.”

“You tell me, Teach.”

“I’d like to think I’m more of a professor.”

Jared nods and hums seriously. “Of the paranormal, of course. You know, given your superior expertise, you could certainly qualify for a PhD.”

Jensen smirks. “That’s more like it.”

“Sexiest doctor on television.”

He stares at Jared and finally huffs when Jared waggles his eyebrows. “Would you stop it?” Jensen asks. For all that he’s growing to enjoy Jared’s goofiness, appreciates how comfortable Jared now is with their crew, he’d like to focus on his file right now. Not on how much his mind roams where Jared is concerned.

“Stop calling you sexy?” Jared jokes.

“Stop talking. Period.”

Jared mocks zipping his lips and leans back against the seat.


* * *

The grounds of the asylum are like any they’ve seen before. Overgrown, dusty grass leads to crumbling 100-year-old masonry that gives the sure sign that the place has been abandoned and is only a faraway memory for those who had once been here.

Jensen happily accepts the hand of Robert Townes, the 50-something-year-old groundskeeper he’d talked to just forty minutes before. Matt and Chris join them to ask all of their typical questions about the place, discuss where they’ll film, what stories they’ll cover, and all the same bullshit they fly through on every case.

Jared’s standing off to the side and staring up at the building, pensive with his eyes narrowed. It’s jarring compared to how loose he was in the ride over.

“Jared!” Jensen calls out, and obviously scares him as Jared flinches. Jensen widens his eyes and lifts his eyebrows, confused and surprised. “You ready to work, kid?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

Jensen continues to check Jared while they’re all talking with Robert and setting up their first shot right in front of the asylum’s weathered front entrance. As Matt and Chris head off with the groundskeeper to view a few more areas around the corner, Jensen stares at Jared until Jared turns away from the building to look at him.

“What?” Jared asks. He seems to snap out of whatever weird thing he’s been in for the last twenty minutes and glances around them. “Where’re the others?”

He wants to snap at Jared, but that won’t get them anywhere. Jared’s been doing a good job, better than anyone had expected – especially Matt and Chris. Still, Jensen lets out a bit of attitude by slowly saying, “They’re working. You up for doing that today?”

Jared stands tall and rolls his shoulders. “Of course I am.”

Jensen points at the building. “Then what was with that? Are the walls talking, Jared?” he mocks lightly.

Laughing at himself, Jared runs a hand through his hair and walks in the direction everyone else had gone. “No, they’re not talking. I’m not hearing voices – yet!” he adds with a grin. “The place is just a little creepy, you know?”

Jensen slaps Jared on the back. “Wait ‘til you see it in the dark.”


* * *

“You ready?” Chris yells from across the lawn.

Jensen shuffles into place in front of the entrance of the main building. He settles his feet comfortably and tucks his hands into his jacket pockets, feeling a short chill run up his arms. It’s not all too cold out here, but he can’t stop the shiver up the back of his neck.

“Jared, you set?” Jensen asks. He glances to his left where Jared’s standing about twenty feet away, camera on his shoulder and nodding. And smiling. The kid’s always smiling. “Alright, let’s do this. Three, two …”

“Go!” Chris shouts then slowly walks towards them.

“Here we are in Louisville, Kentucky,” Jensen says gravely. “At Waverly Hills Sanatorium, which opened in 1910. Tuberculosis reached epidemic proportions in the 1920’s and with the hospital overcrowded, patients were doubled up in their rooms and into the hallways, awaiting experimental treatments that often left them dead. Staff removed ribs and chest muscles, used ultraviolet exposure. The doctors tried it all then sent the dead down a body chute, or a motorized rail and cable system that led out of the hospital to vehicles that carried the bodies away.”

Jensen walks to his left, watching as Jared and Chris both follow. He gestures at the faded bricks of the building and continues on through the history, counting off numbers of patients and subsequent deaths, often the result of flaring patient tempers and the overcrowding. They head inside and walk through the musty halls as Jensen continues.

“In 1961, the sanatorium closed, only to open a year later as a geriatrics center and mental institution. Like many other institutions across the country, Waverly Hills had its share of patient abuse, including extensive, horrific electroshock therapy that left many deaf, blind, or dead. The institution was open for only twenty years before the state closed the doors, but the terrors didn’t stop there. Countless tours have walked these halls, and numerous visitors have seen things, heard noises, and even experienced one-on-one encounters with Waverly Hills’s ghosts.”

He stops outside a medical room with a dingy sink in the corner, a mangled stretcher on one wall, and a handful of metal filing cabinets lined up along the other with its drawers bent open.

“What will we find tonight? Who will we talk to?”


* * *

“Here we are in Room 502,” Jensen says firmly. He steps further into the cleared room, which is much like the rest of the hallway. The newest owners are renovating the place as a haunted bed and breakfast so the walls are dusty from resurfacing, tarps are laid out across the floor, and the lighting and utilities are all bare within open walls.

“Legend has it that the head nurse was so taunted by the truly deviant patients in this ward that she came in here, wrapped a rope around the pipes, and hanged herself.”

Jensen keeps his eyes right on the lens of Jared’s camera. Jared wisely follows Jensen’s gestures around the room, up towards the electrical fixtures above, and even to the window as Jensen explains that people have claimed to see the middle-aged nurse in the glass. All the while, Chris is to the right, constantly filming Jensen and their interviewee.

“Now, Brian,” Jensen says, turning to the construction worker they’d contacted when Robert shared a story earlier this morning. “You had a run-in with the woman in Room 502, did you not?”

Brian, a gruff, built guy in his 30s in a thick, flannel jacket, nods. “That I did.”

“And what happened on that day?”

“We were in here remodeling, and I was up on a ladder, checking the lights when I heard someone – a woman – whispering.”

Jensen steps closer and nods, interested yet also signaling Chris to zoom in closer on Brian as well. “What did she say?”

“She told me to get out or else.”

Jensen widens his stance and crosses his arms, getting his serious face on. “Or else what?”

“She didn’t say, but the next week, I was back in here working, and a pipe fell from the ceiling. It smacked me in the head and cut my scalp open. I had to get eight stitches.”

Brian spins around and Jared gets closer to film the line across the fullness of his skull that’s now a muddled pink as it’s healed.

“That’s a pretty nasty or else,” Jensen remarks slyly and he smirks when Jared swings his camera to him. “Jared, you ready to find out some other or else situations here?”

“No, c’mon,” Jared complains.

“I think you’re due, boy,” Chris drawls, turning his camera on Jared.

Jensen chuckles as Jared groans, and pulls out his EVP while looking right into Jared’s camera. “We’re going to tape a spontaneous EVP right now. This here,” he says, pointing at his small audio piece, “Will record voices the human ear can’t pick up.”

He holds it out in the air and slowly roams the room. “Is there anyone here right now with us?” After a few silent seconds, he asks, “Did you hurt this man here? Did you warn him to leave then hit him in the head?”

“I heard something!” Chris says in a rush.

“A hiss,” Jensen prompts.

“Yeah, like a drawn out yes.”

“I heard that!” Jensen insists.

“Oh, my God,” Jared says quickly. “She’s really here?”

“Are you hurting people in this room?” Jensen asks the room, patiently waiting for a response. “Why are you still here?”

“What happened to you?” Chris asks.

When there’s no other noise and no one else says they’ve heard anything, Jensen unclips his mic and puts it up to the EVP. “I’m going to play this back and see if we can hear the voices.” He rewinds the recorder and lets it play into his mic, listening intently until he hears his own voice ask if anyone is with them, if this person hurt Brian. Then a low, female voice whispers, Yessss. I did..

“There it is!” Chris says, nodding. “That’s what I heard.”

Jensen smiles and turns back to Brian, who looks rightfully spooked. “Have you seen anything else here?”

“Out in the hall,” the guys replies quickly. “There was a little girl.”

“You saw her?”

“Yeah, after I was hit, I went out into the hallway and saw her standing by the door right there.” Brian points straight to the hallway where another door faces the room they’re in. “But she didn’t move.”

Jensen takes a grease pencil out from the inside pocket of his jacket and marks an X in the corner. “We’ll set up a night-cam right here, and get one out in the hallway to watch inside.” He walks the path into the hallway, stops between the doors, and spins around to Room 502. He closes the door and watches Jared turn his camera toward the plate-glass window that takes up most of the upper-half of the door. Chris sets his camera to Jared and smiles.

Jensen smiles a little, too, when he can tell Jared’s not exactly amused.

“I’m getting locked inside aren’t I?” Jared asks.

“You’re a big boy,” Jensen replies. “You can handle it.”

“Yeah, big boy,” Chris laughs, and Jensen does as well.

It feels comfortable for them to interact now. It’s all too easy to taunt Jared and get the right responses on camera. This works.


* * *

A few weeks later, they’re in Little Rock, Arkansas. It’s nearly midnight, pale streetlamps lighting the street in front of the Old Arsenal Building. They’d filmed their initial tour of the haunted facility that was once one of thirty buildings that made up the ammunitions storage facility back in the mid-1800s. Now, the Tower Building stands as the MacArthur Museum of Arkansas Military History and one of the most haunted places in Little Rock. They’d talked to tour guides who told stories of disembodied voices, music, and solid as well as see-through apparitions in various areas of the building.

Now it’s show time.

Jensen steps over the threshold amnd flips his handheld cam up to catch Chris and Jared following him inside. He sets it on night vision as he begins talking and walking backwards into the front lobby.

“Here we are for our lockdown in the Old Arsenal Building. This morning, Debbie Miner told us of the uniformed man she’s seen in the theater and the spirit that roams the front stairwell here.” He turns his camera to the grand staircase and slowly approaches it before angling the lens toward himself to talk. “And tonight, we’re hoping to catch these men on tape, by visual confirmation and verbal, and we’ll be doing it in the dark. Pitch black and alone.”

They say goodnight to Debbie, and she locks the front door and walks off into the night. They film their walk into the east end of the ground floor where employees have said music and voices can be heard.

Jensen focuses his camera on each of the corners and points out the night vision cameras. “We have stable cams set here in this room and an EVP on this chair in the middle. Back in the lobby, there are two heat sensors. One faces this room, and the other is filming the stairs.”

“Dude, it’s getting cold in here,” Chris says.

It’s early fall in the South; the day had been comfortable and this building at night is stuffy, so Chris saying he’s cold is off.

Jensen looks at him and nods, pulling his mel meter out for Jared to move in and film. “This mel meter logs temperatures in the room. If the temp is really dropping, then this will record that.” After a few seconds, Jensen grips the sides of the meter and breathes deep when the digital numbers turn over each other to go lower. He feels the quick zing of excitement make his knees twitch. “There’s definitely something here. The temp’s dropping. Seventy-four, seventy-three, seventy-one, sixty-nine, sixty-six.”

A few seconds later, Jensen looks up to Chris’s camera. “Five seconds and it’s dropped ten degrees.”

“It had to have been nearly eighty when we were first locked down.”

Glancing around, Jensen listens for anything, but all he can pick out is Jared’s harsh breathing. As capable as Jared is with a camera, his nerves during lockdowns haven’t eased much and that’s a bit concerning. Jensen turns towards Jared’s camera. “You okay?”

Jared nods and repositions his camera on Jensen. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Alright,” Jensen accepts. “Debbie’s office is right below here and she said she could hear people walking around after hours. There was music and laughing, but no one else was here.”

“Shh!” Chris urges.

Jensen and Jared each spin in the room, filming the empty corners before finding Chris again. “Laughter?” Jensen guesses.

“Yeah, I heard…there were a few voices. Definitely laughing. A few guys. Definitely more than one.”

Focused back on Jared’s camera, Jensen pulls another piece of equipment out and gestures with it. “We have the EVP set, but hopefully this spirit box will pick something up. It puts out electromagnetic frequencies for the spirits to speak through. It amplifies their voices, and we’re gonna try to bait one.”

“We goin’ spirit fishin’,” Jared says.

Jensen chuckles. “Definitely feels that way.” He flips the box on and jagged sounds play out. He’s always hated the rough feedback of the machine, how it overpowers the mics. He hates hearing it on playback or when they’re summarizing episodes back in the studio, but it’s a vital piece of equipment for their show.

The green night vision from Jared’s screen glares on his face and Jensen can see how he winces to the sounds as well. He even tips his head to the side, eyes slanting away, as if he’s trying to listen over the spirit box for anything.

Jared’s not a newbie anymore, and Jensen smiles at the thought. Even if he’s beginning to wonder if Jared is taking it all a bit too seriously.

“Who’s here with us?” Jensen asks loudly, hoping the mics pick up his question over the noisy box. “We heard the music. Are you having a party? What are you celebrating?”

The box sputters on, but no other sounds break through.

“Can we party with you?” Jared asks.

Jensen chuckles under his breath. He taps the side of the black, rectangular box, and then a sharp No! comes through.

“Oh man!” Jared yells. “They said no!”

Jensen jumps onto that, looking at Jared as he keeps asking questions. “Why can’t we party with you? Don’t you like us? Are we unwelcome in here?” He glances up to Jared’s camera. “Dude, I think they just don’t like you.”

No!

There’s a quick round of shocked laughter, and Jared goes on to ask loudly, “Why don’t you like me? Everybody likes me.”

Jensen finds himself smiling at Jared; he’s starting to agree there.

The box continues to pump out stuttering noises, but otherwise the room goes quiet. After a half minute of silence, Jensen knows they have to move on to film more. “Alright, Jared, you stay down here. Check out the lobby and the west halls. Chris, you and I are going upstairs.”

“Dude, really,” Jared huffs, but he’s moving back into the hallway anyway. “Always gotta be Jared stuck behind.”

“Always,” Chris agrees. He smacks Jared on the back and smirks at Jensen’s camera. “Let’s go boss.”

“Good luck and Godspeed,” Jensen jokes as he passes Jared and starts up the stairs.

“Yeah, thanks,” Jared replies easily. “And screw you, too.”

In the upstairs hallways, Jensen and Chris film themselves in each room. Armed with EVPs, they ask more questions – what’s happened here, why are there remaining spirits, what do they want? They approach the third floor and talk about apparitions that have reportedly been seen when suddenly Chris stops in place and quickly turns his head in different directions.

Jensen angles his camera toward him and films around, too. “What is it?”

“Dude, it’s getting even colder.”

The mel meter comes out again and Jensen puts it in front of his lens to capture the temperature dropping into the sixties. “We’re down to sixty-three degrees. Is someone there?”

“There’s definitely someone here,” Chris declares. “Who’s here? Who’s making it this cold?” Then suddenly, Chris shuffles around, pointing his camera at the doorway. “Oh, shit! I saw a shadow. A shadow moved!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Of course I’m sure! There was a shadow right here by the door.”

Jensen puts the mel meter back inside his jacket and holds his EVP in the air. “Are you the shadows on the walls? Are you the shadows that follow Debbie everywhere?”

“I think it went down the hall,” Chris says as he steps into the hallway, still in view of Jensen’s night vision. “Why are you here?” he asks loudly. “What do you want?”

“Shit, it’s really cold in here now.”

“I know.” They remain in place and wait for more, but Chris can’t keep quiet. “Oh man, it’s really cold right here. I don’t know, dude. There’s … there’s something …”

Jensen films him and notices how Chris is staring off in the distance. “Chris? What is it?”

Chris abruptly shakes his head. “I dunno. It’s weird. I feel really weird.”

“Weird like what? Tell me,” Jensen insists.

“I’m dizzy.”

Jensen steps closer and aims his camera up and down the hall before he flips it around to face the lens himself. “It’s definitely something. It’s like I can’t breathe. Like the air is thick and my chest is heavy.”

“Yeah, definitely can’t breathe.” Chris leans against the far wall and forces his chest out. “Man, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

Before Jensen can respond, they hear Jared shout from downstairs. It’s an abrupt, shocked noise followed by Jared muttering over and over.

Jensen shoves Chris forward so they can head down the hall then the stairs, and they find Jared on the second-floor landing. He’s slumped against the wall, bending forward while frantically searching the area. Jensen focuses his camera on Jared and strangely finds himself nervous that Jared seems this freaked out. “What’s wrong? What’d you see?”

“It was a shadow. A moving shadow down the stairs,” Jared replies quickly.

“The one I saw!” Chris insists.

“You saw it?”

“Yeah, it came out of the room we were in.”

Jared sighs and runs a hand over his head. “Holy shit. It totally had to be … holy shit.”

Jensen sets his palm to Jared’s shoulder, squeezes quickly but lets go when Jared spins to face him. He holds his hand out to prove it was just him, not something – or someone – else . “You’re fine, Jared.”

“Yeah, alright. Yeah.” Jared sighs again and bites his lower lip.

Jensen resolutely turns away from him and heads to his left. They’re not even halfway done. There’s a theater with the man in a top hat, and he’s not going to miss Jared’s reactions to that.

They don’t get far. Once Jensen and Chris are off of the landing, there’s a soft thump and Jared’s cursing again.

He gets his camera on Jared just as Jared complains, “Something just flew by my head!”

Jensen smirks, remembering Debbie’s story about the apparition that has been known to throw things at people on the second landing.

“Oh my God!” Jared yells. “Who’s there? Who just threw that?”

“I told ya they don’t like you,” Chris jokes.

Jensen laughs along with him, even more when Jared glares at them then eases up to chuckle himself.

This lockdown is going perfectly.


* * *

“New Orleans, Louisiana. Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1,” Jensen says. He slowly walks backwards into the cemetery with Chris and Jared in front of him, following and filming as they go. “In one of the most colorful and stimulating communities in the country, this cemetery is steeped in French Quarter history and its most well-known practices … Voodoo.”

Moving further into the cemetery, they bypass aboveground tombs and elaborate headstones that show their age by the state of the fading and cracked stones. It adds to the ambiance, and while Jensen feels like he’s shocked with energy, Jared seems a bit unsettled as he keeps blinking, huffing, and adjusting his shoulders as he follows Jensen.

“Founded in 1789, Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1 is the oldest cemetery in the area and houses some of the most famous residents of New Orleans. Most notably, Voodoo priestess Marie Laveau and her daughter Marie Laveau the second.”

Jensen stops next to the pale white mausoleum with the bronze plaque that declares itself the tomb of Marie Laveau, Voodoo Queen. Chris steps closer to zoom in on the plaque while Jared films the outside walls, all marked up with trios of the letter X.

Jared runs his fingers over a few particularly large, dark marks then looks to Jensen with a raised eyebrow. “You really think this works?”

“We’ll find out tonight won’t we?” Jensen replies with a cocky grin.

With a chuckle, Jared insists, “You can find out and tell me all about it later.”

Jensen shrugs and walks out of Chris’s view so he can grab B-roll of the tombs around them. They have time while they wait on another paranormal crew to join them and give them an insider’s point of view on the cemetery. This whole trip feels easier than the past few. He’s excited to pair up with some old friends here and is looking forward to spending a few extra days in New Orleans. They don’t often get to vacation in the towns they visit; though there aren’t many places as historic as this one.

“Sure, I will,” Jensen agrees. “And you can keep watch on Bain Street to see if anything else goes bump in the night.”

“Dude, no. Why’re you always ragging on me for those things?”

“’Cause you’re so pretty when you’re scared.”

Jared laughs and drops his camera off his shoulder, smiling right at Jensen. “I might be flattered if I believed you meant that.”

Jensen stares back at him, daring Jared to say more yet ignoring how true his comment could have been. When on camera, Jensen knows exactly what to say and how; he has a persona to carry. But off-screen, Jensen’s been feeling more and more off-kilter in response to Jared. They joke, sure, and it’s easy. Jensen’s often finding himself wondering, though, how much is just team camaraderie and how much is something else.

Jared breaks the staring contest when he whips around in place, shoulders going stiff. “What was that?” he asks in a rush.

“What was what?” Jensen narrows his eyes as he looks off in the direction Jared is watching. There’s a thump in the distance and a soft moan that makes Jared flinch again. Seconds later a clump of hard dirt flies towards them, crumbling when it hits the ground. Jensen shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “You’re such a child, Dan,” Jensen calls out.

Jared whips around to Jensen. “Where’s Dan?”

“You can come out now. You’re just scaring the kid.”

“But I hear he’s pretty when he’s scared,” is the reply before Danneel steps out from behind another tall tomb about forty feet away. She’s grinning at them as she comes forward with her partner Ryan walking alongside her.

“You’re so cute when you’re immature,” Jensen jokes when they meet up and hug. He gestures at them as he introduces Jared. “Danni and Ryan of the Paranormal and Unexplained Supernatural Investigators.”

Jared eyes them both, taking in the tall, blond Ryan, and Jensen wants to chuckle. No one is ever as big as Jared, but Jared still seems a little unsure of their guests for this episode. “Danni?”

Danneel steps up to him, happily shaking his hand and giving him a crooked smile. “That’s me. You don’t mind a woman on set, do ya?”

“Of course not,” he replies with a laugh. “I just expected someone a little less …”

“Breasty?” she asks, purposely pushing her chest out.

Jensen rolls his eyes. Danneel is wearing skin-tight jeans to show off her slim figure and a low-cut v-neck shirt that draws the eyes to her … breastiness. Jensen’s not sure why he’s bothered that she’s checking Jared out and flirting with him. Still, he tells her, “You’re gross.”

“What? I’m just testing your new recruit.”

When she winks at Jared, he seems hardly phased, smiling easily. “Well, I’m gay. So, experiment over.”

Jensen immediately looks at Jared and he’s not sure that it’s a surprise, really. Jensen had a feeling about Jared, given how the kid had so nervously responded to Jensen early on and then how chummy he’s been lately. It’s more shocking that Jared’s so easily admitted it, so casual to have said it in front of new people.

Danneel shakes her head. “That’s a damn shame. Two hottest guys on the Travel Channel and you’re more likely to screw each other.”

“Don’t mind her,” Ryan says, tugging Danneel back by her shoulders. “She’s obnoxious.”

Jensen laughs with Ryan and Chris, who’s now joined them to welcome their guests, though he stalls for a few moments when he can tell Jared’s staring at him again. He clears his throat and claps his hands together. They’ve got a job to do.

“So, now that we’re all intimately aware of one another, let’s get to it,” Jensen insists.

Everyone sobers from the joking and gets into place, Jensen standing next to Laveau’s tomb with Danneel and Ryan to his side, and Jared and Chris filming. They get down to business as Jensen starts talking.

“We’re joined today by Danneel Harris and Ryan Hansen of The Paranormal and Unexplained Supernatural Investigators. Now, you’re stationed here in New Orleans and are local experts.”

“That we are,” Ryan replies with a nod.

“What kind of things do you see here?”

He chuckles and motions around them. “Beyond the historic cemeteries, the place breathes its own kind of spirit. New Orleans really embraces the cultures around us, especially voodoo and the power it holds.”

“Including the Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1,” Jensen prompts.

“There’s a lot to be said for who’s buried here.”

“Like Marie Laveau,” Jensen says, waving at the tomb behind him. “She’s been called New Orleans’ Voodoo Queen, and she was laid to rest in this tomb in 1881. What is her legacy here in New Orleans?”

Danneel leans forward and picks up the loose script they’d discussed weeks ago when they’d first made arrangements for this trip. “Back in the mid-1800s, Marie Laveau was a devout Catholic who was committed to helping the sick during the Yellow Fever epidemic. As she learned more about medicine, she was intrigued by the human soul and stayed with the dying as they passed, easing their deaths. She became the first Voodoo Queen and all in New Orleans honored her for her abilities.”

“And her daughter, also named Marie?”

“Her daughter took over in the same nature and continued her mother’s legacy after her passing in 1881. Today, they’re both buried here. Many would come to each of the women for help with love and money, and they still do to this day.”

Jensen steps to the side and points at the Xs across the tomb. “And these markings?”

Ryan traces three Xs as he explains, “Legend has it that you mark three Xs together, leave offerings, and ask the Laveaus to fulfill a wish.”

Crouching down, Jensen picks through the items laid at the foot of the tomb. “Cigars, flowers, jewelry, even bottles of liquor … these are all offerings for Marie?”

Danneel nods. “People still come and wait for the women to grant them wishes.”

Jensen smirks at them. “And on St. John’s Eve?”

Ryan smiles and motions at the tomb. “St. John’s Eve, June 23rd, is the night before Feast Day. It was one of Marie Laveau’s traditions. She held rituals out on Bayou St. John to celebrate with other voodoo practitioners.”

“And today?”

“Many will still celebrate on the Bayou. Others come for ceremonies and orgies.”

Jensen glances at Chris’s then Jared’s cameras. “Orgies,” he says with a sly smile.

“In a cemetery,” Jared says dryly. “So sexy.”

The group laughs and Jensen smiles right into Jared’s lens, purposely playing it up for the tape. “Maybe tonight we’ll find some for ourselves. We’re spending tonight with the Voodoo Queens and hopefully … they’ll fulfill our greatest wishes.”


* * *

Just past midnight, the five of them traipse through the cemetery. Jensen, Jared, and Chris are armed with their cameras set to night vision while Danneel and Ryan walk just ahead. She’s carrying goods in her arms and he’s got an EVP recorder held out in front of them.

Their muffled footsteps are accompanied by cicadas buzzing, crickets chirping off in the distance, and the low murmur of nearby traffic. The pale half-moon is their only light as they follow Danneel and Ryan, who expertly know their way.

Jensen hears Jared take a deep breath and when he looks at him, Jared’s eyes are wide and unfocused. “Jared?” he asks quietly.

“Cemeteries are spooky, man.”

Jensen chuckles then flips his camera around to his face and speaks loud enough for his mic, ready to start their night. “It’s the middle of the night in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, and we’re going to visit Marie Laveau’s tomb. Tradition says that if we bring her offerings and mark her tomb with three Xs then we can ask her for something in return. Jared, what’re you gonna ask for?”

“If I tell you, I’d have to kill you.”

They all laugh, easing the tension of the dark night, and come to an abrupt stop in front of Laveau’s tomb.

“We’ve invited Danneel and Ryan from P.U.S.I. to lead us in the offerings tonight,” Jensen says, turning his camera back to the two standing next to the tomb. “Have you done this before?”

“No, we haven’t,” Ryan replies.

“First time for everything,” Danneel adds with a wink.

Jensen moves to the side so that all three cameras have different angles on Danneel and Ryan. “You guys are the experts here, local residents and all. Go on ahead.”

Danneel crouches to set flowers and a bottle of bourbon on the stone at the base of the tomb while Ryan speaks. “Miss Laveau, we come with an offering and ask that you give back in return.” As he draws chalks Xs in an empty spot of the tomb, he continues: “I ask for a windfall of money and the love of a good, breasty woman.”

Danneel smacks him in the gut then smirks when she stands, pressing her palm to the tomb. “Miss Laveau, we pray to you and wait for great financial gain.”

They wait out the silence for a full minute, watching and listening for any sort of response. Nothing happens and Jensen hands his camera off to Ryan so he can draw on the tomb himself.

“Oh, Miss Laveau, our Voodoo Queen” he says loudly.

“Dude, don’t taunt the ghost,” Chris says.

Jensen winks at Chris’s camera. “We come in peace and with great honor for your power. I leave you with these cigars and hope you will grant me prizes in return.” He pulls a handful of cigars from his back pocket, leans down to set them next to the flowers, and traces his own marks on the stone.

The others do the same and they continue to film the tomb, circling it, checking the area for any noises or sights.

After some time Danneel shivers and looks at Jensen’s camera. “I feel someone here.”

“Yeah,” Ryan agrees. “There’s something heavy in the air.”

“It’s like we’re being watched,” Chris adds, his camera sweeping the area.

“Shh,” Ryan says. “I heard something.” He holds the EVP out, spinning in a circle. “I heard chanting.”

Danneel sets her hand to the tomb and closes her eyes. “I think I hear her. It’s not English, but I hear it, too.”

Jensen goes next to Ryan and aims his camera at the EVP. “Replay your tape.” Ryan fiddles with the EVP then hits play and they all listen closely to harsh whispering, words garbled in a different language.

“That’s creole,” Danneel says.

“This is a real EVP recording that Ryan picked up,” Jensen explains to Chris’s camera. “We just left our offerings for her and now we hear her chanting in Louisiana creole. If only we could understand her words. At this point, we can only assume she’s completing the ceremony for giving.”

“There’s definitely something here,” Chris insists. “There are cold spots right here.”

Jensen walks to where Chris is standing before empty stones in front of the bronze plaque announcing Marie Laveau’s legend. He holds his hand out near Chris’s and nods. “Yeah, there’s something right here.”

“Look at this!” Chris pulls up on his sleeve and Jared comes close to film what Jensen can imagine is Chris’s goosepimpled arm. He’s always so sensitive to the cold and brings it to their attention.

Jensen grabs his camera back from Ryan and then Danneel makes a noise and flicks her hair off one shoulder, looking shocked.

“Something just touched my neck.” She points to the spot and Jensen films it. Under the night vision, he can see the skin is splotchy. He sets his finger to the area and she flinches again. “Yeah, right there.”

“It looks like a hand print.”

Ryan comes next to Jensen as they look at it together, Ryan agreeing and tracking the pattern as well.

“I told you cemeteries are creepy,” Jared says suddenly.

Jensen swings his camera to Jared. “Are you scared, Jay?”

“No, dude, it’s just weird here. I keep feeling something around me.”

Chris tsks mockingly. “So many dead bodies, so little time.”

Jensen smiles at him. “Then it’s a good thing we’re here all week.”


* * *

After their shoot, they return to the double-galley home Danneel and Ryan share, intent to be here for their extended stay. The plan has been to film their summarization here on the P.U.S.I. equipment on the main floor with Danneel and Ryan contributing what they’ve all heard and seen at the cemetery, and fill the rest of their time interviewing other locals while taking in the sights with two friendly tour guides.

Jensen sleeps hard in the guest room on the first floor. It’s one of the best rests he’s had in days, waking in the late afternoon when voices carry from the front parlor. Jensen tugs his jeans back on to go with the shirt he’d slept in, and finds Danneel and Ryan in front of their equipment set up in the dining room. Ryan is flipping dials to single out footage, and Jensen is glad to see they’re getting a jump on the material.

He whistles low as he takes in the full spread of flat screens, recording docks, and mixers. “Impressive.”

Danneel smiles from over her shoulder. “You talking to me or the thermo tape?”

Jensen laughs and pats her back as he views the middle screen with the thermal processing footage Chris had filmed late in their taping. “Whichever will get me coffee faster.”

Jared suddenly appears at Jensen’s side with two mugs of coffee and passes one to Jensen. “It’s like I’m psychic or something.”

“Psycho, maybe,” Jensen mumbles just before sipping the hot brew.

“Mmhmm. What’s that?” Jared asks, pointing at the swirls of green and yellow on screen. A red blur grows off to the left side of the monitor then unfurls then disappears all together.

“Chris’s thermal footage,” Ryan says, distracted. “I’m trying to shape the figures.”

Jared steps forward. “Wow. Play it again.”

Jensen tugs on Jared’s elbow. “Not so fast, sparky. Wait ‘til we’re all lucid and caffeinated.”

“And showered,” Danneel adds. “Y’all stink right now.”

“That’s all you,” Jensen says with a finger aimed at Jared.

As Jared walks to the stairs, he says, “Oh, sweetheart, how you flatter me.”

When Jared’s out of sight and heading to shower, Jensen finds Danneel and Ryan staring at him. He frowns at them. “What?”

Danneel smirks. “Sweetheart?”

“It’s just … it’s nothing.”

“Sure thing, surgarlips,” Ryan jokes before turning back to the screen.

“He’s very cute,” Danneel says.

Jensen sighs and decides to focus on the footage Ryan is lining up for their summarization. Still, he replies, “I’m well aware.”

“And very gay.”

“As are you,” Ryan adds.

“Very cute or very gay?”

Danneel pats his head like he’s a child who doesn’t know better. “A little of both, my dear.”

In lieu of answering, Jensen drinks more coffee. The longer she watches him, the more unnerved he feels and now coffee is the last thing he wants. He puts the mug down on the corner of the long desk and walks back to his room. “I’m gonna shower.”

“With Jared?” Danneel asks.

“Good idea,” Ryan says. “You’ll save water.”

Jensen slams the bedroom door.


* * *

The house is in a highly residential, extremely historical area called Faubourg Marigny. There is nothing excessively touristy here, but Jensen values that even more. It’s more down-home bohemian, which is perfect for their trip that night down to Port of Call. The bar is filled to the brim with nautical treasures and folk who are happy and buzzed enough to talk freely of local stories of Marie Laveau and St. John’s Eve.

They don’t hear much new from any research they’ve done, but it helps to get others to recount these stories. Jensen knows it’s better on tape from the locals. Their attention don’t last long, though, because the giant hurricanes the place serves are potent. Just a few hours in and Jensen feels ridiculously lazy in his speech and movements, and he’s certain anything they film now will be useless. Another hour is spent enjoying the people around them and the ambiance then they amble back to Danneel’s place, all five of them armed with large to-go hurricanes.

On Danneel’s open porch, they spread out and enjoy the rest of the warm night. Jensen’s feeling overly warm himself, and keeps smiling at Jared, who’s seated across the steps from him.

“I love New Orleans,” Jared mumbles just before he messily sips from his cup.

“I think that’s the liquor talking,” Danneel murmurs.

“I love liquor,” he says into the top of his drink.

Jensen chuckles then glances up at Danneel. She’s on the stair above him and lightly scratching nails down his neck then nodding towards Jared.

Jared spreads his arms out, hurricane sloshing over the side of his cup. “I love this job. And I love you,” he says, looking right at Jensen. “For taking me on. For hiring me. For trusting me.”

Now fully laughing, Jensen shuffles on the step to stretch his legs out. “Well, thank you, Jared. I love you, too.”

Jared twists around to glance at Chris and Ryan, both of whom are kicked back in porch chairs and smoking fragrant cigars. “If only he meant it, ya know?”

Chris glares at Jensen. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jared argues, suddenly seeming less drunk than he did just minutes ago. “We get to travel the country and hunt ghosts. How freaking cool is that? It’s like, my dream. To see and hear the things we do? It’s amazing. I’d do it for free.”

“There you go, Chris,” Jensen points out with a smooth smile. “Jared is relinquishing his salary. Congratulations on your raise.”

Jared smacks Jensen’s leg, which is mighty close to him. Jensen hadn’t noticed that, really. “You’re so mean.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he drags out, mocking Jared for his line that morning. “I know that’s how you like it.”

Danneel taps the back of Jensen’s head and clears her throat; Jensen recognizes her cue to change the subject. He’s thankful for it, unsure where to go after Jared smiles warmly at him for what he’s just said. “So, you’re hittin’ the jackpot with New Orleans, boys. What more is there?”

“Anything is up from here,” Chris says with a smirk.

“That’s because we’re so far south. There ain’t much to say to that.”

“You could go to Jacksonville,” Ryan suggests. His crooked shrug says he’s joking. “Whole lotta retired folk have to be seeing crazy things.”

“Why do we always go to the South?” Jared asks.

Jensen watches Jared for a few beats. He’s halfway amazed that Jared appears to be honestly stumped by his own question. “We could go north. We should” he adds. He glances at Chris, thinking that something a little less humid and sticky could do them good after the last few months.

Chris scoffs. “When you can fit it in the schedule.”

“Ryan grew up in Wisconsin,” Danneel points out. “He claims there’re some crazy things up there.”

Jensen leans back to smirk at her. “That’s just the people.”

“Nah,” Ryan says lazily. “Up in Wisconsin Dells, Devil’s Lake has a long record of UFOs.”

“UFOs aren’t our style, man,” Jensen points out. “And why’s a place named Devil’s Lake not full of … ya know, devils?”

“Grand Lake, Devil’s Lake, Crater Lake, for Pete's sake,” Chris sings low, invoking Johnny Cash’s meaty rumble.

“I’ve been everywhere, man,” Ryan joins in. “Crossed the desert's bare, man.”

Jared picks up the tune and warbles, “I've been to Louisville, Nashville, Knoxville …”

Chris laughs as Jared trails off with mumbling the quick melody. “Yeah, boy, what’s next?”

Danneel heaves a loud breath. “Lordy, if y’all are gonna sing, I’m going in to shove my head under the mattress.”

Jensen smiles at the group. “Give ‘em a break. It’s not like they got much else going for them.”

“Man, screw you,” Chris complains, flicking what’s left of his cigar towards Jensen. He misses by a mile and it lands in the brush on the other side of the stairs. “Shit. My aim is shit.”

“As are your manners, hot shot,” Danneel says as she rises to retrieve it. “I’m heading in before you set my house on fire.”

Chris grumbles at her, but he’s up then, too, and follows her inside. Jensen doesn’t immediately notice that Ryan’s also gone and it’s just him and Jared.

“For real, though,” Jared says suddenly soft. Maybe because they’re alone now. “We always go south. And east. Right now we’re both.”

Jensen laughs and nudges his foot into the side of Jared’s thigh, feeling warm and lazy in the right way, especially when Jared looks at him with a deep gaze. It’s as if Jared can’t look away now, and Jensen’s finding he can’t either. “Where do you wanna go, Jared?” he teases.

Jared shifts and leans to the side on his elbow. Jensen’s mentally measuring the space between them as it has diminished exponentially now. “Man, it don’t hardly matter. I’m just happy to be out of my parents’ house.”

“That bad?”

“No, they were good. Real good.” Jared looks down to the stair below him, flicking his thumbnail over a groove in the wood. “Just, I had a lot of great ideas about what to do with myself. Not many would come true staying close to home. I miss ‘em like a limb, but I felt like I had to leave soon.” When he glances up, he’s hesitant for the first time all night, almost frowning. “You know what I mean? Or do I just sound stupid and spoiled now?”

“Nah,” Jensen says softly. “You sound smart. Dreaming for better isn’t so bad. Knowing you wanted more.”

Jared releases an embarrassed smile and chuckle then looks down again. “And I got it. With you guys.”

When Jared glances back up, he’s biting the inside of his mouth, making his cheek twist and nearly hide his trademark dimples. Jensen’s a little ashamed to say that he’s still searching for them, like it doesn’t make sense to talk to Jared unless he can see one of those silly little dimples. Jensen smirks and tries to deflect his sudden, building want. Or at least prolong it. “Yeah, but where’s that gonna take ya?”

“What’s that matter?” Jared shrugs then sings, “I've been to Reno, Chicago, Fargo, Minnesota …”

Before Jared can get through all of Sarasota, Jensen has leaned in and snagged his fingers around Jared’s neck, twisted them into his hair, and kisses him full on the lips. Prolonging what he wants has never really worked for Jensen before, so he’s not about to scold himself for it. Especially not when Jared lets out a needy sound as he opens his lips to Jensen’s and lifts a hand to hold Jensen’s forearm, as if he’s keeping Jensen in place.

Jensen shuts his eyes, slips his tongue into Jared’s mouth, and widens his mouth around Jared’s. He tries to ignore the flare of heat he gets when Jared rises higher to meet him in the kiss, to make it all more level. And deeper, because good Lord, Jensen feels like he’s about to slip right inside Jared’s mouth and live in the taste and warmth of him. Shit, Jared can kiss.

He feels as though the wind’s been knocked out of him, becoming more feverish with every growing second that their tongues wind together, as their lips smack against each other. He thinks about stopping to breathe, but he can’t end this moment. He only slows it down by withdrawing his tongue and tipping his head to the side. He’s pleased when Jared chases his tongue into his mouth, now thoroughly kissing Jensen and dragging his hand up Jensen’s arm, curling it around his shoulder and tugging.

It’s nowhere near comfortable. Jensen leans down and over Jared, his back straining at the angle, but he still can’t stop. Kissing Jared is intoxicating and sobering at the same time, because now he has every sense on overload with Jared’s mouth sealed with his own and he’s far too aware of it all. Jared’s neck can’t be doing well, either, but he’s not showing signs of it and keeps right up with Jensen.

Jensen can’t remember the last time he’s been so attached to kissing another person. Sure, he’s got himself a healthy sex life, stories that are killer to remember later. But he’s not sure that he’s kissed someone with this much intent for this long. And he’s certain that it’s never been with someone who has milled around in the back of his head for as much as Jared has these last few months. Jensen is certain he will never forget this kiss, or Jared, now.

Knowing that deep in his bones makes him pull back to catch his breath. It’s good, yet overwhelming.

Jared’s sucking in air and shivering, and Jensen knows the feeling. He looks down his nose and goes dizzy as he waits for Jared to open his eyes, waits to say something because Jensen can barely find his lungs let alone words.

“I didn’t know Johnny Cash turned you on,” Jared breathes against Jensen’s cheek.

“I love the Man in Black,” Jensen replies easily.

“Good to know. Especially that you like a man of any kind.”

Jensen huffs a laugh and leans back to take in all of Jared’s face, which is flushed with heat. “Jared.”

Jared’s adam’s apple pops as he swallows. His voice is tight when he asks, “Yeah, Jensen?”

“Sit up. You gotta be sore like that.” Jensen had meant it to sound light, but he knows he’s missed the mark when Jared ambles upright and puts a little space between them.

Jared clears his throat and attempts to smile and joke. “What are your feelings on Willie Nelson? Next time I’ll make sure to sing someone that won’t make you act questionably.”

“Jared,” Jensen says, low. He tips himself close to Jared again. “Don’t you dare.”

Jared’s eyes roam Jensen’s face. “Sing Willie?”

Jensen smirks, taking the situation in hand. Along with Jared’s face, so he can bring him back in. “Stop me from acting questionably.”

Jared bites his lower lip, like he’s anticipating what he’s going to say next; it’s good, Jensen will give him that. “How questionably are we talking here?”

“How far are you thinkin’?”

“Honestly?”

Jensen nods, because he’s dying to know. Because he doesn’t want this feeling to end.

Again, Jared doesn’t disappoint. “For as long as we can stay awake.”

Jensen smiles and runs his nose along Jared’s. He feels his skin prickle when Jared turns toward him and slides his palms up Jensen’s arms, letting his fingers slip into Jensen’s shirt sleeves and grope along the curve of his shoulders. Christ, Jensen hadn’t known this kid would do this to him, but he’s willing to give it to Jared; he’s turning Jensen right over with just the slow path of his fingers. Jensen shifts with his leg resting behind Jared to full face Jared and now he has no problem tugging Jared right against him. Jared comes willingly and immediately slants up to Jensen’s next kiss.

Jared hums into Jensen’s mouth, their tongues vibrating together, and Jensen can’t let him go for a long time. They don’t move much either, staying seated as they are and kissing for what feels like forever. Their hands change it up, Jared pulling his hands out of Jensen’s shirt to rub over Jensen’s sides or fumble over his back and then back down to his hips. Jensen skims his hands across Jared’s jaw, into his hair, along the back of his neck.

When he drags his palm down Jared’s chest, he can feel the thunder of Jared’s heart beating rapidly, and he smiles as he nudges Jared back just an inch. Without a word, he stands and pulls Jared up with him by the hand. They remain deathly quiet inside as Jensen stalls for a moment. He can hear Chris, Ryan, and Danneel in the back parlor. Apparently they’re playing cards judging from the bets they’re calling and the tell-tale sound of chips shuffled on the oak table.

Jensen knows there’s no way to hide everything here; they’re a close group, only five of them in this house. Yet he’s not up for letting everyone in on this right now. He puts his finger to his mouth as he glances at Jared then leads them into his room and quietly shuts the door.

The air in the room feels warm and stuffy, thicker than he remembers from the night before. Still, he looks forward to sweating it through with Jared, who’s now standing in front of him looking earnest yet absorbed with desire, intently watching him step closer.

Jensen sets his hands to Jared’s hips and Jared does the same. As Jared dips his head down, Jensen leans into him to kiss again, and he seriously doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of kissing Jared. He’ll never forget the smooth drag of Jared’s tongue along his own, Jared’s pliable lips sucking at his lower lip, the warmth of his wet, wide mouth.

Jared’s mouth drifts over Jensen’s cheek and along his jaw until he latches onto Jensen’s neck. He sucks and licks at Jensen’s pulse point, and Jensen hums as he reaches between them to stroke over Jared’s waistband. When Jensen slides his hand lower, Jared whimpers and drops his forehead to Jensen’s shoulder with a soft curse.

Through denim, Jensen strokes Jared and squeezes his dick as he feels it growing hard in the loose jeans. He sucks at the curve of Jared’s neck, even over his collarbone, then drifts down to settle on his knees.

“Oh, Jesus,” Jared whispers. “You’re really gonna …”

Jensen slowly drags Jared’s belt out of its buckle and unlatches it while looking up to Jared’s wide eyes. “Are you gonna be okay?” he asks with a hint of teasing.

Jared nods minutely. “More than okay.”

He doesn’t waste time now getting Jared’s jeans open and down to his hips or getting the head of Jared’s dick into his mouth. He easily fists Jared, mouth meeting his hand as he moves up and down, and Jared’s hands carefully land on Jensen’s head. Jared doesn’t guide him; it’s more like he just wants to feel Jensen move, like he’s simply along for the ride.

Somehow, that turns Jensen on more, and his dick is getting hard in his own jeans. He rubs his free hand over himself as he takes in every needy noise Jared makes. He’s alarmed, though, when Jared murmurs a run of no, no, no and squeezes a hand over Jensen’s shoulder.

Jensen pulls back and glances up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Just … don’t do that,” Jared insists. He sounds wrecked no matter how quiet he is. “I wanna do that … when you’re done.”

Jensen smirks and lifts his hand up in surrender, foolishly satisfied when Jared laces their fingers together and squeezes.

Even with the short pause, Jared is close when Jensen takes him down again and he murmurs nonsense as Jensen takes his time. He already loves the weight of Jared on his tongue, the overwhelming musk of his scent Jensen breathes in each time he sucks down the whole length of Jared’s incredibly hot, long dick. Jensen tongues around the head of Jared’s dick and dives right back down, humming around it, and sucking hard as he slides up and down.

Jared frantically taps Jensen’s shoulders and mutters that he’s about to come. Jensen takes him deeper for a long moment, forcing Jared there, then slips back to suck his cockhead clean. Jensen leans back on his haunches and wipes the corners of his mouth with his free hand, still gripping Jared’s hand with his other.

Jared breaks the silence again as he mumbles and wavers on his feet until he admits he can’t stand any longer and drops to sit at the edge of the mattress. He’s breathing heavy and still holding Jensen’s hand, which he uses to haul Jensen over to the bed with him.

As soon as Jensen’s seated beside him, Jared grabs his neck and pulls him in for a sluggish kiss, as if he’s still drumming up energy after what just happened. He breaks the kiss to rest his head against Jensen’s and focus on his own hand trailing up Jensen’s thigh and then over the hard bulge of Jensen’s dick in his pants. “I said I wanted to …”

“Yeah, you did,” Jensen mumbles, missing his ability to be smooth with Jared’s hand on him.

“And I was thinking of returning the favor. Taste you in my mouth.”

Jensen sighs and can’t keep his eyes open; they roll back and shut. “Fuck, Jared.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Now Jensen has to open his eyes and look at him. He has to grab hold of Jared’s face and kiss him hard and fast as he imagines them sweaty and writhing in bed. With Jared’s hand still rubbing him through his jeans, Jensen loses control of the kiss and just pants against Jared’s mouth. He thinks about pulling back, getting his jeans open, and letting this be more than just coming in his jeans, but he can’t. Not when Jared sucks at the corner of his jaw then down behind his ear as he slowly strokes him right through his orgasm.

“I’ll have you know,” Jensen mumbles, head still tipped against Jared’s. He just likes the closeness. Right. It’s not because he can’t control his muscles at the moment. He’s not sure which is worse, actually. “As soon as I recover, I’m holding you to that maybe tomorrow bit.”

“Yeah?”

Jensen glances up. Jared sounds breathy and unsure. Instead of answering, he slides in to suck at Jared’s upper lip, smacks their mouths together, and smiles minutely. For once, he’s trying to not overdo it when he skates a hand over Jared’s hair and pats his shoulder then stands. “I gotta clean up. Be back.”

Jared swallows and nods. “’Kay.”

Jensen takes a fresh pair of boxers with him to the bathroom, peeling his messy jeans and boxers down. He washes up and changes into the new shorts, hoping to slip and in out without being noticed, but of course he is.

Danneel is standing in the hallway from the parlor, staring at him with his clothes in his hand. She tsks and shakes her head. “You are a filthy human being.”

He sucks in a quick breath then shares a smile with her. “You said it was a shame. Two hottest guys on the channel …”

“So you’re blaming it on me? That you deflowered your intern?”

“I didn’t deflower him. He definitely knew what he was doing.”

She playfully rolls her eyes and pushes him aside so she can go up the stairs to her own room.

He laughs to himself on the way back to the bedroom, somehow surprised Jared is still there. Happily surprised that he is, especially when Jared grants him a tiny smile.


<<< part two | master post | part four >>>