Supernatural Fiction & Art

“Dude, wait up.”

Jensen ducked under a low-hanging branch and leaped over a rotting log lying in the underbrush, a determined grin plastered across his face. At the sound of Jared’s hoarse whisper, he quirked a look over his shoulder at his friend, only a few steps behind and just as determinedly shoving aside the branch to follow him into the clearing.

“Shhhh…”

“Did you see anything?”

“No.” Jensen pressed his finger to his lips and pointed. “I heard them,” he mouthed silently. Jared nodded, his clear eyes focused across the vacant meadow, looking for any flicker of movement at the edge of the trees on the opposite side. Laying a hand on Jared’s arm, Jensen pressed lightly and both of them crouched down, half-hidden in the waving fronds of last year’s yellow-dry grass.

Jared touched his fist against his open mouth, indicating with his eyes the direction from which the sounds of crunching and snuffling could clearly now be heard. Jensen nodded once, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, munching down,” he whispered.

Jared cocked his head as soft, guttural grunts reached his ear, accented by scuffling and thumping in the soft ground. He held up four fingers, and then added his thumb, shrugging with an uplifted eyebrow.

Four, maybe five of them. Jensen’s grin reached nearly from ear to ear. “Let’s go,” he mouthed.

Jared jerked his thumb, and Jensen nodded. He rose quietly and began to make his way around the clearing, keeping low, avoiding the crackling brush at the edge of the trees, where he stopped and signaled.

Jensen crept forward silently in the tall grass. At twenty paces he paused and glanced back at Jared, who had fitted his bow and stood tall, watchful as a hawk.

Jensen grasped his bow in his left hand and fitted the shaft of the arrow with the strong pliant fingers of his right. The animals were still too absorbed in dinner to notice the preparations for their impending doom. He raised the bow and nodded once, the point of the arrow fixed right behind the largest set of ears he’d seen on a hog in years.

Training the bowstring, he pulled back, and waited for Jared's signal.

With practice, they’d been able to hit their targets simultaneously for an instant kill. Today was no different. The arrows sped arcing over the ground, shadows tracing the tops of the grasses like graceful birds. They heard the sharp crack of bone, and a piercing shriek. The sow lumbered forward a few yards and dropped, her snout pressed firmly into the muddy ground, her large ears folded over her eyes like the headscarf of an old woman, twitching.

They sprinted forward as the herd scattered. Jensen had already fixed a second arrow to the string in case it was needed, and he let it fly mid-step straight into the side of a healthy, seventy-pound shoat.

“Nice roasting size,” crowed Jared, nodding at the smaller animal as he clapped Jensen on the back.

“His mama’s not too bad either,” Jensen laughed. “Look at the size of her,” he shook his head, wiping his brow. “Whew.”

“Woo-hoo,” Jared sang out, laughing back at him. “Must be close to three hundred pounds!”

“Yeah, now we know who was eating all the deer corn last fall,” Jensen added. “How the hell are we gonna get her out of here?”

Jared had knelt over the body of the dead hog, inspecting the wounds. “Clean kill, dude,” he said in satisfaction. “Both arrows straight through the shoulder, lungs, heart, and out the other side.”

Jensen nodded. These were their third and fourth kill of the afternoon, respectively. The landowner would be pleased.

Jared snapped open his cell and pressed the keypad. “Davis? Yeah, we got her and one of the piglets. They look great.” His voice was charged with adrenaline and he was flushed, eyes alight like the western sky where the sun slanted low, illuminating the field with golden light.

Jensen watched a flock of birds take off from the trees fifty yards off. While Jared was speaking, he walked over to the fallen piglet. Crouching beside the carcass, he pressed a warm hand to its side, then pushed the arrow further out through the skin, removing the broad tip, and pulling the shaft back out the way it had gone in. Blood poured from the open wound.

He smiled, and closed the pig’s eyes with a soft touch, resting his hand on the body of the animal just long enough to breathe a silent prayer of thanks. Then he rose and swung the pig on his back, draping the feet across his shoulders, and started to walk back to the hunt cabin, following Jared across the field. They’d come back with the truck to get the carcass of the mother.

Then it would be a long night, but at least there would be help. The wild boar family had caused enough nuisance in the neighborhood that there were plenty of hands waiting to butcher them.

Jared hung up his phone, turned and shook his head at Jensen, who trudged up behind him. Snickering, he said, "You thinking barbecue for that one?"

"Yep."

Jared nodded. "Me too." They walked in silence for some minutes through the dry leaves that littered the path through the forest. Then Jared looked over again at his friend. "Dude, you're covered in blood."

Jensen's eyes danced. "Yep." His smile was like that of a little boy, proud and happy and carefree, tugging hard at Jared's heart.

Jared shook his head, laughing. "I'm happy if you're happy."


* * *

A general cheer went up as they reached the yard of the little cabin, and there was much back-slapping and congratulations for the two returning hunters.

Jensen dropped the smaller pig off his shoulder onto the long steel table in the area set up for butchering, a small shed with a large metal walk-in cooler and an open porch. A pot-bellied stove at one end provided heat to warm up tired hands that would soon be stiff from hacking and slicing after a long day of hunting.

"I'll get the truck," said Jared, and Jensen nodded.

"Be right with you."

There were several carcasses already hanging in the breezeway in various states of dismemberment. Van, a tall guy with dark hair, glasses - and from the way he was working on the animal in front of him, a mean forearm with a blade - looked up briefly, then continued working. Another hunter stood before one long sow, pulling entrails and dumping them into an open tub. He nodded as Jensen passed by on his way to the cabinet where supplies were kept, and continued working.

Jensen grabbed a meat hook off the shelf and slung it into a rafter. It hung down by the chain and Jensen locked it. Then he grabbed the shoat by its rear hooves, and thrust the hook into the space between the tendons just below the knees. The pig swiveled to one side and hung there, its mouth pointed toward the floor.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said to no one in particular as he tapped the pig's back. Going back to the table, he grabbed a towel and squirted a generous spray from the bleach bottle to ensure the next guy’s meat wasn’t contaminated, and wiped the blood off the surface.

The blood on his shoulders was nearly dry and not too sticky, so he shrugged and decided to leave it for the time being. He could hear Jared had started the truck as the horn sounded loudly. Dropping the towel in a bin, he rushed out the door, never noticing the look exchanged between Van and another hunter who had walked in the door.

Not that it would’ve mattered, if he had seen it.

Jensen ran across the little yard, opened the door and jumped in, flashing a grin at Jared who was literally bouncing in the seat in impatience to return for the mother sow. “Hurry up, you. Daylight’s wastin’.”

“I’m in, I’m in –go,” Jensen said, slamming his door. Jared spun out on the gravel and headed back up the road into the woods where they’d left the hog.

Coming into the clearing, Jared maneuvered the truck neatly around the field, following the track next to the woods, and pulled to a stop as close as he could get to the dead sow without going into softer ground and risking getting stuck. He and Jensen hopped out and together they managed to heave the heavy beast into the back, levering up against the rear and doing their best not to get blood all over them.

The sun sank lower, and the light picked out the field in pure gold, ranging across Jared’s face and illuminating his skin. He was flushed with the exertion. Jensen stared as Jared pulled up the rear door and shut it firmly, then looked up with that happy, engaging grin he had that always made Jensen’s heart turn over.

Jared’s eyes glowed deep blue-green, his lips moist and blush-colored. And even if he could, Jensen wouldn’t have stopped his hand from curling across the back of Jared’s head, bringing his mouth smoothly down to meet his, and breathing in the warm scent of earth and sweat as he felt Jared’s laughter rumble deep in his chest. Jensen groaned as he swept his tongue across Jared's mouth, savoring the raw taste of him, feeling the tickle of Jared's damp hair against his palms as he pressed harder against his neck, straining against the urge to take him right there against the back of the truck in the gathering dusk.

He felt the rushing crash of heat in his saddlebones, and the welcome rising thickness of Jared's cock pressed against his stomach. He groaned deeply in frustration.

Jared broke the kiss, and gasped hoarsely. “Come on,” he smiled. “You’re not the only bitch that’s calling me just now,” he said, cocking his head at the inert figure of the huge sow lying in the bed of the vehicle.

Jensen tagged the back of Jared’s head as he wheeled to get back in the truck. “Fuck you,” he said good-naturedly, but Jared’s eyes just twinkled at him. "You want me." Jensen nodded at the bulge in Jared's crotch as he climbed in beside him in the front seat.

"Yeah - later," Jared grinned in reply, turning the key in the ignition.

"Not later - now," Jensen growled, reaching for Jared's crotch and running a stiff palm against Jared's zipper. Jared grasped his hand.

"Cut it out," he gasped. "Let's get back and get this done first --then I'll keep you up all night long if you want."

Jared caught and held Jensen's gaze. Jensen smiled back. Slowly he withdrew his palm and cocked an eyebrow. "Fine," he replied. "Think I'll hold you to that."

"Do," replied Jared, laughing softly.

Back at the lodge, they set to work skinning and cleaning the fresh meat. Several hunters had brought in hogs that afternoon, so they were working in semi-close quarters. The fire in the stove roared and popped as it caught the dry wood, keeping the place surprisingly warm. Jensen stood nearer the door, with Jared beside him, and for the most part they worked in companionable silence, occasionally assisting the other in places where two sets of hands sped things along. Jared’s height was an advantage as he held the hind legs spread open while Jensen unzipped the skin from each hog’s stomach, back and legs with his knife. Turning the animals this way and that, neither one noticed that some of the other hunters paused from time to time to watch them work, exchanging significant glances with one another.

Like two parts of the same efficient body, they alternately held and cut for one another, with only an occasional word or two. Jared’s fingers grasped the knife directly from Jensen’s; later, Jensen guided Jared’s blade to slice perfectly along the edge of a bone. Wordlessly they dropped tools to grasp and pull at strong skin, parting the flesh with fingers long familiar with the feel of healthy tissue; then Jensen, muttering a soft curse, would lay a hand on Jared’s arm and point at the size of a bone or the depth of a muscle. They worked perfectly as a team, and all the while the other occupants of the shed were stopping their own work to stare in their direction, taking in the tone and flavor of their words, noting the intense eye contact or glances that may have strayed rather long at lips and throat muscles, and palms that brushed over shoulder blades in the lightest of congratulatory taps. And the hunters nudged and nodded, until just as the last hog was stripped down and ready for the cooler, the tall dark one called Van coughed and shook his head.

“Hoo,” he smirked. “Good thing we’re about done here,” he said, stepping toward the cooler where the hogs would be stored to cure for a few days. “I don’t know if I could stand any more of that.”

Jensen quirked a smile at him, holding the door open to the cooler as he was just coming out from hanging the second of his own carcasses. “It wasn’t so bad. Just a hog killing,” he nodded.

But the other hunters shifted uneasily, and there was a bark of nervous laughter. Van stopped in the doorway to the cooler.

“I didn’t mean the hog killing.”

Jared, in the act of pulling down one of the hogs from the rafters, felt his skin prickle along the back of his shoulder blades. Something in the man’s manner was odd, there was a hint of derision edged with the steely glint of real anger. He stopped and stared at Van.

“What did you mean?” he asked softly.

Jensen stood rooted to the spot, feeling the air grow close, and tension shoot through the small space.

Another man started to step forward, and he saw him out of the corner of his eye just as Van coughed again and spat out, “You two. Like a couple of ballerinas. Couldn’t tell if you were carving up the hogs, or getting ready to re-enact the scene from Deliverance.”

With a swiftly indrawn breath Jensen saw Jared fly across the room and pin the slightly smaller but well-built man against the cooler door. “You shut the hell up,” Jared ground out.

Jensen stepped forward, his arm outstretched toward his friend. “Jared. Let go.”

Jared’s eyes flashed grey-blue in the dim light, rimmed in red, his teeth bared as he held the other man’s collar. Two of Van’s friends came up behind Jared and laid hands on him, pulling him back roughly.

The heavy breathing, the sound of men bracing themselves and weighing the wisdom of re-enacting the Battle of Hastings in a butchering shed where there were plenty of deadly weapons at hand, but where the scene would certainly come to no good end, was deafening. Nobody spoke, nobody moved. The air vibrated with a stunned silence; Jensen and Jared were both by far the fittest men in the assembly, but they were far outnumbered.

Finally, Jared released the other hunter and stepped back.

Jensen refused to lose control. Part of him wanted to throttle the last one of them, the other part wanted to get the hell out of there before the room exploded.

Wordlessly they gathered up their knives, wiped them off, shoved them into their sheaths and grabbed the rest of their belongings, avoiding the glances of the other men and each other.

“We’ll be back next week to pick up the hogs,” was all Jensen said as they tersely exited the shed.

Hoarse laughter rang in their ears as they left the porch outside and crossed the yard. Neither looked at the other. They got in the truck and left without another word.

In the front seat of the truck and a good two miles later, Jensen started to relax. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

“Hey,” he heard Jared’s voice in the still-vibrating stillness.

“Hey yourself.”

“Fuck them.”

Jensen snorted and cocked an eyebrow at his partner. “You go right ahead. No thanks, not my type.”

“Fuck that, man. God damn them.”

Jensen sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s been –what? Five months now?” He shook his head. “We’re not exactly in a metropolitan area. Some people are funny about things they don’t understand, and don’t see past the surface. It’s lucky nobody’s said anything before now.”

Jared’s jaw muscles worked as if he were chewing the inside of his cheeks to shreds inside his mouth. “It’s like –so none of their business,” Jared replied. “I hate this,” he ground out. “Just –-fuck it.”

Jensen cocked another sideways glance at him. “Let it go. No sense getting worked up about it.” Another huge sigh escaped his lips. The influx of oxygen seemed to help. He took several deep breaths, and he could think more clearly.

“It’ll be all right,” he finally said.

Jared still glowered in the dark, but he said nothing.


* * *They fell into bed with a sense of relief after showering off the day’s heat and grime, and turned to one another almost simultaneously, wordlessly reaching out in the stillness. Jensen rocked his hips upward silently under Jared’s warm, unencumbered thrusts as they rolled together under the blankets.

Jared bent his head, tracing a path down Jensen’s throat with his tongue and following the length of his breastbone, then encircling each tender nipple with attentively slow lathing. Jensen groaned deeply as Jared grasped the growing length of his cock, rubbing his thumb across the thickening tip. Jensen breathed a kiss into Jared’s hair.

They were quiet tonight, arching backs and straining muscles saying everything that needed to be said, mouths busy with kisses instead of words. Jared held him close, when Jensen tried to turn over, wrapped Jensen's legs around his waist instead and kept him close, nudging between Jensen's legs as he kissed him, their fingers laced tightly together.

He came like a race horse, his cock deeply buried in Jensen’s sweet ass and a short while later Jensen spilled his come in Jared’s throat, and still they held on to one another, wordless, still touching, exhausted but unable or unwilling to let go. Finally, Jensen’s head dropped forward on Jared’s chest, Jared folded his tired arms around his lover, and they slept long into Sunday morning.


* * *Before the alarm went off on Monday, the sound of Jensen’s cell phone beeping a message notification was hammering at Jared’s brain and he opened one eye to see Jensen reaching for the phone, cutting off the sound and checking the number. He smiled as Jensen caught him looking, and reached for Jensen’s arm to draw him closer, pillowing his head against his broad chest, sighing happily as Jensen dialed the phone.

“It’s my dad,” Jensen said as he tucked his phone against his shoulder and waited for it to ring.

Jared relaxed and savored the morning warmth, drifting against the quiet. His stomach rumbled, making him think about breakfast. Jensen made delicious, decadently rich pancakes… he’d get up in a minute and start the coffee as an incentive for that. Maybe. His cock was waking up, too, in deference to the feel of Jensen’s thigh brushing across it as he shifted lower under the covers.

For the moment, Jared thought, this felt so damned nice.

Five minutes later, however, the world tilted on its axis.


* * *They had decided to take two vehicles, so that Jared could come back to work at the quarry as soon as the funeral was over. Jensen would need to stay and help his parents with arrangements and legalities afterwards, and there was the issue of the boy, Samuel.

Sam was Jensen’s sister’s child, eleven years old. She had left Jensen in charge of her son’s future. Jared tried not to think about his own feelings at the moment. This kid had just lost both parents, Jensen his only sibling, and his parents a cherished daughter. Still, it was hard not to consider the fact that things would be changing in both their lives --he just couldn't begin to see how they could raise a boy, the two of them. He snorted and laughed derisively as he turned off the road to follow Jensen's old truck down the country road that led to the old farm.

He was also still upset about what had happened at the hunters’ cabin, and the fact that there would be a few days now before he had to deal with that seemed a blessing in disguise. The angry looks on the hunters’ faces flashed before his eyes, and the laughter as he and Jensen had left the cabin echoed in his ears. He’d known when they went back to work at the quarry, things were likely to be a little tough – several of the hunters were quarrymen, and the club belonged to the owner of the rock quarry. Through hard work and diligence Jared and Jensen had earned the right to join and to hunt. Now he wondered seriously how long that privilege would be there for the two of them.

Nobody liked trouble. And it seemed now that it was only a matter of time before some confrontation happened. Jared had a temper when provoked, and he wasn’t going to allow anyone to get by with what had been started the other night.

And now it also seemed likely that the future was getting ready to get complicated. Jared shifted irritably, and then relaxed as Jensen’s parents’ house came into view. They were good people, at least here he could be assured of a welcome.

Which was a bit miraculous, seeing as how the reason Jensen had left the farm in the first place was due to him, Jared. Had they never met, Jensen would have followed in his father’s footsteps and would be running the farm by now.

Certainly the first time he'd driven down this road he could have foreseen nothing that happened later.

Jensen drove ahead of the Impala in the truck, lost in thoughts of his own. It was perhaps a fortuitous fact that they'd only last month returned to the farm to get his old truck. It was a more practical vehicle for work and for hunting, for as rugged and capable as the Impala was, she was not built for back roads or carrying dirty equipment and dead animals. He was now grateful for that bit of foresight, as it would make it easier for Jared to return to the quarry in a few days. As much as the thought of being without Jared's support and comfort at this time pained him.

But surely it would not be necessary for him to stay at the farm longer than a week or two.

Jensen was reminded, in a flash of sore recognition at his mother's stricken face at the window, of that last visit home as he entered the driveway and pulled behind the house. Musing about his sister's choice of himself as godparent, he cut the ignition and rested the back of his head against the seatrest for just a moment, hearing the rumble of the Impala pull up beside him. Wearily, he waved at Jared, who smiled back and winked reassuringly.

Surely it would be more practical for the little boy to stay with his mom and dad. Surely no one had foreseen the accident that had robbed them all of Savannah's sweet smile, her wisdom, and capable mothering.

Remembering his sister again brought a lump to his throat. How many people regretted the lack of saying goodbye to someone? It was something he'd hardly thought about until it happened to him.

He sighed, and opened the door, to hear his mother's calm voice welcoming Jared, his father just behind her.

He was lucky beyond hope, he knew that. His family had accepted Jared without speaking of their relationship. It was wordlessly recognized and Jensen knew he had Savannah to thank for this.

Now all he wanted was one more minute, one more brief opportunity to thank her, to hug her, to say again, "I love you."

The next two days passed in a blur of his mother's tears, the kindness of neighbors, and long talks with his parents, with Jared, and attempts at the same with his nephew. The boy was clearly in shock, and hardly spoke to anyone for the duration of the visitation, through the funeral and at the wake. Jensen had always had a good rapport with Sammy, but the little guy appeared to be unfocused, irritable, and withdrawn. Jensen had no idea what to do about it - should he try harder or let the boy deal with it on his own?

Jared smiled at him as he admitted some of his worries that evening. "Don't push too hard, right now. Give him some time - he'll come to you when he's ready."

Jensen considered. "You lost your parents when you were young. Is that what it was like for you?"

Jared nodded, musing, a rueful expression on his face. "Yeah, a little. He'll be OK. Sammy is a smart kid. He'll be more likely to unload on his friend, Dean. Let him be, let him adjust. Just be there for him and he'll appreciate that more than anything else you can do."

"Okay." He rubbed Jared's shoulders. “Thanks.”

“By the way,” Jared murmured. “I’m sorry for being out of sorts this afternoon.”

Jensen smiled. “’S’okay. We’re both a bit on edge. This hasn’t been fun for either one of us, and I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with it.””

“It isn’t that,” Jared whispered. “I –well. I’m just not sure where we’re going from here, you know? It’s got me really on edge.”

“Well, yeah. Understandable. We’ll talk about that, okay? I’ve got a better way to handle your asinine behavior though, first.”

“What do you mean, asinine? I wasn’t that bad!”

“No. But you need a lesson all the same. Jared. Do you realize what you said?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“You said, you weren’t sure we were doing the right thing anymore. Where the heck did that come from?”

“I didn’t mean it to come out the way it sounded. I was thinking about your nephew, is all.”

“I think Savannah laid the groundwork here for Sammy’s understanding just like she did with Mom and Dad. It’s that kid Dean who’s got him all stirred up. And it’s just selfishness on his part. He’s afraid he won’t see as much of Sam now that he’ll be here. And from what I’ve seen, I’m not sure that’s not a bad idea.”

“Yeah, he does seem angry for a fourteen-year old.”

Jensen snorted. “I was angry, too, at his age. They’re all angry. Just needs to get his hands on some tools and work out all that teenage angst.”

Jared snorted. “I’d have liked to have seen you at that age.”

“I was a brat.” Jensen tilted back his head and drained the last of his beer. “Savannah saved my ass more times than I deserved, that’s for sure. I miss her so much.”

Jared nodded, his eyes saying that he understood.

They had retired early to his old bedroom in the farmhouse, an idyllic setting with matted pictures on the wall, his guitar propped against a bookcase full of books on every subject, and the cozy warmth of his mother's practical touch. Still, it was a boy's room, not a man's. Eventually his nephew would probably want this room, and he'd be back working with Jared at the quarry.

He said as much, and Jared nodded. "Yeah, and I have to get up early tomorrow and go back, you know. Nine hours is a pretty long drive."

"I'll miss you."

"Yeah, you will. So don't hang around here too long - I might not remember who you are when you get back, okay?" Jared dodged Jensen's playful punch, and soon they were in each other's arms, kissing passionately, Jensen's hand slipping inside Jared's pants.

"I wanna make you come so hard..."

"I want you to make me come so hard, Jensen."

"Get ready. I've never been so horny in my life. What has it been, almost a week?" His next words were lost as Jared tackled him and pushed him backwards into a deeply tufted chair.

They jumped up, springing apart as a soft tap at the door sounded.

"Uncle Jensen?"


click here to continue...

All illustrations by apieceofcake