HOUSE OF BROKEN SOULS Part 29
Warnings: This Chapter: Sexually explicit content. Overall: Slash, sexually explicit content, graphic violence
The fiction includes a mental illness storyline. I am not qualified in mental health, everything I know about it is googled. It's fantasy folks, please don't shoot me though helpful criticism is always welcomed.
*Not real. The folks aren't mine. No damage intended.
Lia (Cheebles) is still with me for help & support for which I am very grateful (hugs)
***
Milligan's was busy but not crowded, there was noisy chatter and a juke-box played insipid 90’s music in the background. The air was heavy with the scent of raw humanity, smoke and alcohol. There were tables awash with spilled beer and half eaten snacks. Jensen braced himself not to run and not to look at the counter. He wasn’t sure he could do this. Mark waved from seats at the rear of the dimly lit bar, mostly hidden to others but with a good view of everything within the room. The detective made his way across and removed his jacket before sitting on a stool by the young man and grinning lasciviously. “Those jeans Mark, they look good on you. Really they do.”
“Save it.” grinned Mark. “I bought you a soda.”
“Seriously. Did you have to pick a bar dude?”
“It’s home turf. I told you I had something I wanted to discuss.”
“Man, if you picked this place to tell me you’re upping your rates, I can tell you without reserve, it’s a mistake. This may be homey to you but it sure isn’t classy.” They both watched as a busty blonde emerged from the rest rooms with an older guy, both sweating and flushed, her blouse unbuttoned and rumpled.
“You may have a point there, but I’m not upping my rates. In fact I’m not going to be having any rates.”
“You want to rely on donations?”
“Can you quit with the smart remarks and get with the program Jensen Ackles? because I’m pretty sure you know exactly what it is I have to tell you.”
“You do?” Jensen was squirming uncomfortably now. He really needed a drink. Just the one surely couldn’t harm.
Mark put out a hand and steadied him. “Concentrate on me .” he said. “I need to know some things. They‘re probably way past what I have a right to ask my client but I think we passed that marker some time ago. Don‘t you?”
“OK. Shoot.”
“Do you think you’re in love with me?”
“Wow. That's a question I wasn’t expecting Mark. I mean there’s no tactful way to answer that.”
“I just need to know the truth and I think you’re the sort of guy who will give it. The answer isn’t going to upset me whichever way it goes. I’m not Julia Roberts.”
“I care, I think you’re amazing, good-looking and talented and I do mean talented in so many ways.” he paused “I see you. I don’t just see the sex.”
“but?”
“No, I don’t love you.”
“Good. Do you have ambitions to be a sugar-daddy Jensen?”
“What! NO! Why would you even ask that?”
“I got offered a job. Out of the blue. An e-mail to my writing journal asking me to consider working for some Publishing House. Apparently someone has been reading my work and they liked it. Don’t get me wrong, it was all kinds of flattering but all kinds of creepy too. I mean I write porn, it has to be some insane sex attacker doesn’t it? So I asked for confirmation and references from them.”
Jensen laughed, a whole body, belly laugh. “You asked them for references?”
“Dude. It’s the internet. You can’t believe the scammers. The thing is, it checked out. It’s a small firm, in California, dealing in erotic literature, mostly for the LGBT market. It’s respectable and legit and you know what else it is?”
“What else is it?”
“It’s a wholly owned subsidiary of Ackles Corp, Mr. Ackles.”
“You do your homework.”
“So do you. The job includes day-release for me to study. I should get used to homework don’t you think? There‘s also the question of the apartment they have earmarked at reasonable rates and the travel expenses they would pay. So tell me Jensen Ackles, what do you get out of this?”
This wasn’t going the way Jensen had been expecting. “Do I look like some crazy stalker Mark?”
“Right now, I have to say yes. How would you even know that I’m going to be any good in a proper job. Does my boss expect sex?”
“Oh ew, I hope not, she’s got to be 65 if she’s a day. No-one expects anything apart from a neat, well organized, and creative individual which you’ve already proven to me you are.”
“I’m a hooker Jensen.”
“One. You are always appropriately dressed, I might add hot as well but that isn’t going to impress you right now. Two. You organize your schedule and invoicing tactfully and efficiently. You have never let this client down or been late. Three. Your writing is off the scale talented. Four. You have superb business sense, aptly demonstrated by your approach to this whole thing. You asked for references dude! How much more businesslike can you be? Five. You‘re right, my name is there in the company documents and I don‘t screw with the company reputation for personal reasons. You may want to rephrase your previous employment to escort, entertainment operative or between work.”
“Everyone wants something.”
“You saved my life. Probably more than once and..” the detective sighed and lifted his soda to his mouth and took a gulp. “This would be easier if I could have a proper drink.”
“Not going to happen on my watch. I’ve seen you. Remember?”
Jensen skimmed the room with his eyes while inwardly searching to find some way to say how he felt. What he found was Jared. Jared in paint-on-tight black jeans, a faded black wife-beater and leather bracelets. Jared laughing, neck thrown back as some douche whispered a proposal in his ear and slipped one dirty hand roughly into the front of his jeans, the other down his ass, groping and leering at him. Jared putting his bottle of beer down and allowing himself to be led by the buckle of his belt, into the questionable rest rooms.
Still staring, Jensen replaced his soda on the table and missed. The bottle clattered to the floor spilling sticky liquid and fizzing white froth. He grabbed at some tissue and mopped up the mess, his eyes didn’t leave the rest room door.
Mark slammed his beer bottle on the table loudly. “Still here!” he said “so what do you want, because I’m thinking it’s something I can’t give you?”
“I need,” Jensen started “ I think I just need for you not to be here. For me not to need you. If that makes sense. I‘m sorry, please don‘t be offended.”
Mark nodded slowly, a slight smile on his lips “I think it makes a lot of sense. No offense taken.” he lifted his beer to his lips. “If you don’t want him to see you, you should get another soda now. JT doesn‘t do foreplay, or after-play for that matter.”
“You know him?”
“He’s Jared. Interesting that. Not a name commonly shouted during sex with me but there’s a lot of folks say we look alike. There’s some say I get picked up for that likeness. He’s a good looking guy. Course what I ask payment for, he gives away, so there’s days he’s screwed my trade, quite literally.” he laughed but his eyes weren’t smiling. “You know when trade is quiet I’ve been known to people-watch. My line of business,” and he corrected himself, “my former line of business, it’s important to be able to read people, judge what they need without being told.”
Jensen was picking at a napkin and dropping small curled pieces of tissue to the floor, his eyes still scanned the area near the rest room door. “It worked with me.” he commented.
“The ones who say JT is like me have it all wrong. When I tout for business, I retain control, keep it safe, don’t take chances. I’m not looking for anything. It’s just about the cash. JT is the opposite. He’s not asking for cash because he’s doing it for the danger, he wants someone else to take control, he needs to give something of himself away but however much he gives up he always comes back. It’s never enough, he never finds what he needs. You know what I think?” he leaned over to Jensen and looked him in the eye. “I think he needs someone who cares enough to work out what he‘s missing, take control from him and tell him what he’s going to do about it. Then stay with him and follow it through.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I’ve worked out what it is you want, and it‘s JT.”
Jensen was glad he hadn’t purchased another soda. If he’d been holding a bottle it would have slid to the ground, he seemed to have lost control of his limbs and voice. He finally turned his attention away from the rest room door and looked aghast at the man quirking eyebrows at him and drinking beer with him. He wanted to argue, say it wasn’t true but he couldn’t find a way to lie to him. “If this works out,” he found himself saying “you are definitely on my Christmas Card list.”
The rest room door banged as Jared returned to the bar with mussed hair, pink cheeks and over-red lips. The man who had accompanied him patted his ass, grabbed another beer and returned to the catcalls of his mates, leaving him standing alone. Jensen flexed his fist, it was all wrong and he felt humiliated and angry all at once for the architect who he once called his friend but Jared was standing, cool and unruffled at the bar drinking his beer, relaxed and provocative.
Mark picked up his belongings and stood. “This job. I’m going to make a go of it. Fire me if I don’t make the grade but if you try to screw me over in any way, if anyone asks me for unrelated favors, I will bring the press down on you and I promise the Ackles name will get dragged through the mud.”
Jensen smiled, wide and cheesy “You‘re going to be such an amazing businessman Mark.”
He watched Mark leave and turned his attention back to the bar but Jared was gone, a burly, bearded man with a prominent belly had his wrist wrapped in his pudgy hand and was pulling him back to the rest room. Jared’s face was painted neutrality, there was neither passion or fear there. Jensen waited a few seconds willing Jared to shout at the man, to shake his wrist free and return to the bar but the rest room door opened and they were swallowed from view. He recalled Jared’s own words the night he rejected Jensen’s advances “Sugar, with me, everyone’s like that.” He remembered his inability to comprehend an offer of friendship without sex. The realization that this wasn’t a one-time deal, the stark reality of the data on his computer, everything he knew about the gentle giant struck him like a punch in the gut. The guy was missing a childhood. Did he have any concept of real affection? Jensen didn’t know if he could live up to Mark’s expectations but as the rest room door stayed shut he felt the anger and frustration build in him. He’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.
***
He could still taste the sickly sweet raspberry of the condom the first man had used. He hadn’t got his name, just a mouthful of dick and a hand pulling his head forward, tangling his hair, forcing the cock deep into his throat. He took it balls deep first time, his gag reflex gone since thirteen, when, desperate to retain their damp, rundown home, he had first taken to his knees, shivering but compliant for the bug-eyed rent-collector.
He worked his tongue around the balls and along the length, let the man fuck into his throat, he sucked, allowing saliva to dribble from his lips , rubbing it into the man's inner thighs with a rub of his thumb till the stranger moaned unintelligibly, and shot into the condom. The man pulled away then, cleaned himself up, zipped up. Jared got off his knees and made for the exit, untouched and still limp. He felt nothing as the man groped his ass and returned to his whooping mates. When the middle aged man with the beer belly suggested that they could explore the concept of heaven together he was sceptical but why judge a book by it’s cover? He did what he always did and followed him. “Top or bottom?” the guy asked and he replied “bottom” and found himself manoevred, face against the stall wall, thick hands tugging at his waistband, thick breath on his neck. He heard a zipper being lowered. The rest-room door opened with a crack and movement ceased behind him. He heard the zipper again and the guy behind him stuttering “No, it’s not like that, please I’ve got a wife.” Then another voice, gravely and familiar “Get out!”
Jared turned to see the door closing and Jensen Ackles standing behind him, his badge in hand. He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re busting me? Really? What sort of a stalker are you Ackles?”
The detective was staring at him, flicking his eyes over his face then down his body and Jared, though fully clothed, felt suddenly naked. Badge back in his pocket, Jensen’s hand reached up to Jared’s mouth and the tips shushed against his mouth. “Don’t say anything. Don‘t do anything.” Jensen leaned in to him, one shoulder against the stall wall to steady himself and kissed his neck so softly his lips barely touched. He repeated it, so carefully, so gently along the line of his jaw to his ear and along his collar bone. He trailed his tongue back up to Jared’s adam’s apple and sucked soft and unmarking, on its nub. Then pressing butterfly kisses over his chin he made his way to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His fingers stroked the younger man’s cheek and carded through his hair. He had his eyes closed, inhaling Jared’s scent, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek and Jared watched mesmerized feeling every touch with an electric intensity. He moaned and reached down to Jensen’s belt, fumbling with his buckle. The slap on his hand was unexpected and shocking. “I said don’t do anything.” Green eyes locked onto hazel “You don’t get to cheapen this.”
“I knew you’d be a toppy bastard.”
“I said, don’t say anything.” Jared felt Jensen tense just before he found himself pinned against the wall, the detective using all his strength to hold him, no care now that his knee lodged against the architect’s groin. “You’re not going to leave me high and dry again, detective?” It was intended as a challenge but became a quiet and broken plea.
“Sshh” Jensen breathed as his lips searched out Jared’s again, latched on with care sliding smoothly against them, then he was sucking on Jared’s bottom lip and they were both moaning into each other’s mouth, tongues entwining lazily. The door banged and they jumped as a surprised voice apologized “Sorry. I didn’t realize there was anyone here.”
Jensen hmmed and drew back, letting Jared’s arms down. He looked Jared in the eyes and spoke in a honey deep growl. “It’s OK we were just leaving.” He looped one arm around Jared’s neck and pulled him in for a quick, full-lipped kiss. This gorgeous man is going home with me.” He grabbed his stick with one hand, Jared’s belt loop with the other and tugged. “Remember. Not a word.” he said, commanding and serious, as Jared opened his mouth ready to protest. Jared considered the older man and his green-gold eyes for a brief moment, shut his mouth and let himself be manhandled to the sidewalk and into a cab.
Continued in part 30 here: anniespinkhouse.livejournal.com/9075.html