J2 | Gotta See a Man About A Thing | NC-17

Oct 11, 2013 13:54

Surprise fic! I wrote this a week or so ago and just got it back from beta, so now I'm sharing with you all, despite my claims that the cursor was mocking me today. Odd timing, I know, but who doesn't want fic?

Title: Gotta See a Man About A Thing
Words: ~10,000
Summary: Set in the 1920's, for the prompt Jared is a prostitute in a brothel. Jensen his regular client from the Working Hard for the Money v3 commentfic meme.
Warnings: prostitution and thus most mentions to Jared's job can be considered dubcon and/or violent, bottom!Jared.
Notes: HUGE thanks to cleflink for talking this through and betaing ♥

on AO3



The first time Jared laid eyes upon Jensen Ackles it was just like something in a dream. From across the room, with gads of people between them, their eyes met and everything beyond Jensen faded away to white noise. A fog surrounded Jensen so that the brightness of his green eyes was even stronger than his open smile. Then Jensen tipped his hat, fingers sweeping across the brim and down along the stripes of his double-breasted jacket.

It was like kismet, serendipity, or any other mess of fate, except they were in a gambling house fronting as a gentleman’s club, and Jared was a prostitute indentured for his body. He was well paid and well-kept, and also presented himself well. Otherwise, he’d be out on the street, and he highly doubts a man the likes of Jensen Ackles would go fishing in a dirty alley.

No, Jensen was the son of the city’s most infamous lawyer. Alan Ackles was loved by conservatives hell bent on retaining morality in the colonies, while all others loathed the man for stripping their lives of even a cent of enjoyment. Alcohol, tobacco, even unwedded sexual relations were being thrown out the window with the exceedingly tight regulations developed and implemented by the lawyer.

To that point, it could be perceived that Jensen’s appearance would scare off the customers, and Jared indeed did tense up for a second to consider that problem. But then Mike the bartender smacked Jensen on the back, handed him a steiner full of ale, and the whole world came crashing back in full Technicolor, the organ in the corner ringing in Jared’s ears.

Jared watched Jensen thread through the crowd, his eyes continually landing on Jared as his intended endpoint even as Danneel and Katie each began to tug down on their tops and up on their skirts, trying to make a sale. Jared rolled his shoulders, mindful of how the thin Henley was now draped open even wider, and completely aware of how Jensen’s eyes now roamed the bare skin of Jared’s chest and collarbones while most every other man in the establishment was sewn up to the chin in button oxford shirts and thick-knotted ties.

He hadn’t been here long, but Jared knew a thing or two of how to convince even straight men to let him fall to his knees for a small fee … which usually turned into a hefty prize once he properly made them lose their mind.

And so Jared blinked quickly, knowingly betraying his age with big, round brown eyes focusing on Jensen once they were standing in front of one another.

“Hi, there, Jensen,” Katie purred as she slipped her hand over the shoulder of his fine jacket.

“Miss Katie,” he nodded in return with a quick glance at them each. “Miss Danneel.”

“How is Mr. Ackles tonight?” Danneel asked in the same sugary tone Katie had used.

“Mr. Ackles is good.” With another firm nod, the women seemed to get the gist - Jensen wasn’t here for them. Still, Jared was confused as the two parted ways to leave Jensen alone with Jared.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?”

Jared lifted a brow, caught between adoring Jensen’s smooth voice and hating a typical opening line. “Not really. I’ve been around.”

Jensen took a long look at Jared. “I think I’d remember you.”

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” Jared replied with a bored glance across the room.

A quick step forward, Jensen dropped his voice with a careful smile. “I don’t come here for the girls.”

Jared gulped, feeling more than business strike his mind. He wanted to inch ever so much closer to those perfectly curved lips, run his hand over the striking jaw, and stare into those deep eyes for the rest of his life … if he could, but that wasn’t how his life went.

“Then why are you here?” Jared finally asked.

Jensen’s smile turned playful as he leaned away, allowing fresh air to pass between them and lighten the moment. “Because I’m hungry. And thirsty.”

“And?”

“And thirst waits for no man. You know where a fella can get a drink around here?”

Despite his better judgment, the one telling him to keep circling the room for a real paying customer, Jared put on a flirty smile and led the way to the bar.



Jared entered the ballroom, ready for a bustling Friday night in an oxford shirt and one of the first vests he'd ever bought when he arrived in the big city. Given growth spurts, it had become quite tight on him a year or so back, yet served him well. Especially as he circled the room and eyed current and potential clients, who were sharing interest with the shape of the fabric hugging his chest and leading down to his trim hips, which he turned this way and that to draw more attention.

He talked to a few, but had secured none so far. He knew better than to bed down immediately when there was always a potential for a big payoff on Fridays. Plus, he was waiting for an even larger push past 10 p.m., when some would outwager one another to keep Jared for the evening.

As the room continued to fill, Jared stood at the first landing of the staircase leading up to the bedrooms. He mentally compiled a quick list of the men who gave him second glances, a tip of the hat, or pleased smiles, and started to order possibilities in his head.

Katie approached him as she was heading back down from a quick client, and he accompanied her down the stairs, but tried to slide away when tugged at the openings beneath his arms and tsked. “This thing shrunk again?”

“I think I grew,” he mumbled back, embarrassment coloring his words and cheeks. “It’s getting too tight.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” was said from Jared’s left, and there stood Jensen.

Once again, he was sharp and complete in a double-breasted suit jacket with matching tailored pants - this time in slate grey. His navy blue tie matched his hat, which he tipped to both Katie and Jared in succession.

Katie slid closer to Jensen and started a soft sell, complimenting Jensen’s clothing, his shoes, and even his smooth shave. All the while, Jared tried not to listen in or look too long at Jensen, for his stomach began to turn and nerves were rattling him enough to make his palms sweat.

There was no reason for that to happen, Jared told himself. He’d only spent one evening with Jensen, and it wasn’t a proper one, either. They had talked and enjoyed one another’s company, but Jensen never took Jared up on his offers to head upstairs, and after an hour, Jared stopped trying.

Jensen had paid well enough for his time, sex or no, and Jared tried to ignore the disappointment that he’d missed out on the chance to kiss those bowed lips or feel the shape of Jensen’s body, which perfectly filled in his suit, against his own.

And yet, another worry flew through Jared, remembering the news that the Dark Horse, another gambling house, had recently been shut down along with its bootlegger when inspectors wormed their way in under the pretense of new membership.

Lord only knew what Jensen’s true agenda was.

“Well, Ms. Cassidy,” Jensen said with an exaggerated smile that fully pulled Jared from his thoughts, “I do greatly appreciate the offer, but I think you’ve got yourself another gentleman over there.”

Soon enough, Katie moved on to Mr. Sheppard, with his even more finely tailored suits and fancy accent that spoke of more money than Jared could imagine one man possessing. Jared was struck by a quick pang of jealousy for how much she’d get paid for an evening with the importer. She already cleared more per night than Jared could imagine … but taking care of one of the city’s richest men could certainly put someone on comfortable ground for a while.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jensen asked.

Jared glanced at him, confused. “I’m sorry?”

Jensen gestured to where Katie now had an arm around Sheppard’s shoulder and one of his around her waist, hand sneaking down towards her ass. “Sending her over there?”

“No, of course not,” Jared insisted. “Mr. Sheppard is definitely into blondes. Not even Danneel could get a word in with him.”

Jensen made a face towards the scene that was quickly sliding into something a bit more sexual as Katie nosed and mouthed at the man’s ear. “You never thought to lasso him anyway?”

Jared barked out a laugh. “I can barely imagine that. He’s half my size.”

With an appreciative glance down then up, Jensen smiled. “I’d bet most people are.”

He stepped closer to Jensen and carefully licked his bottom lip, which was surely one of his best moves, but also felt a bit put-upon and wrong here. “Except for you. You seem to be of appropriate size.” Jared let his eyes roam Jensen’s face, chest, and just a tad bit below the belt. “All over.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Jensen shot back with a smile that should have been more lascivious and less adorable.

“I would, very much.” Jared carefully touched Jensen’s tie and when there was no stopping him, he wrapped his fingers around it, tugged a little, then stroked it from top to bottom, again and again. “Perhaps you would let me find out right now.”

“Are you free?”

“Oh, honey,” Jared murmured in his best replication of silk and sugar, “I’m never free. But for a price, I’m available and open for you now.”

Jensen cleared his throat and slowly backed out of Jared’s reach before adjusting his hat. “Yes, that definitely sounds interesting. But maybe for now just a drink and a chat?”

Jared did his best to not let disappointment show and instead tried to make the moment last, just to keep Jensen in front of him. “An hour is an hour, if you don’t mind the cost.”

“If you don’t mind the company?”

Here, Jensen’s smile appeared shaky, nervous, and it only endeared him to Jared even more. If there hadn’t been Misha and thus no boss to share his pay with, Jared would gladly waive the hour.

Either way, he steered Jensen to the bar.



Jared sat at the edge of the brothel’s roof, carelessly swinging his feet about and admiring the view from a few stories above the bustling thoroughfare. Jensen was perched just beside him, tailored jacket unbuttoned and his hat resting at his hip. He’d come in insisting he was once again hungry and thirsty, so now he had a sandwich in one hand and a glass of ale in the other.

It’d only been a month since they first met, but Jensen approached Jared as though they had a set appointment. He’d interrupted Jared’s work on Mark Pellegrino, an accountant whose office was finally making some headway with the burst of the city stretching further to the west.

Jared didn’t care much for making new clients - it wasn’t the easiest setting limits when one was a paying customer expecting a full buffet of sexual options. At least his regulars had learned enough lessons - and Jared had learned some as well - to avoid anything too physical. But he also knew it was vital to expand his customer base with the businessmen who would happily pay rising fees. It wasn't as though he had a long list of johns knocking on the door, not compared to the ladies; he had to be efficient and effective where possible.

Which Jensen screwed over for him just forty minutes ago, and yet Jared finds himself only partway caring. After all, over the past few weeks, Jensen had been more than pleasant company, sharing drinks and dinner with Jared, then leaving just after midnight, bidding adieu and paying Jared handsomely for his time. He’d even started to bring small gifts, though today’s pocket watch was far from small. Jared had first insisted it was impossible, inappropriate even, for him to accept it, but then Jensen snapped it into place on Jared’s vest with nimble fingers that Jared was suddenly hypnotized by.

For the last ten minutes, Jared had been fiddling with the chain, even swinging the watch face in short circles like he’d seen the men do on the street.

“How did you end up here?” Jensen asked around a bite of his sandwich.

Jared reached forward to thumb at the corner of Jensen’s mouth, swiping away mustard. “You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Sorry, Mom. So how?”

He reached over again, this time sweeping crumbs off Jensen’s pants leg. “How are you such a mess when you eat? Weren’t the Ackles raised with manners?”

“We were, but some things just don’t stick.” Jensen shrugged as he took a quick sip of ale then looked Jared right in the eyes. “And you haven’t answered me yet.”

“Answered what?” he asked, even when he’d heard the question - both of them - loud and clear. He’d rather not get that deep into things with Jensen, especially when his brain was supplying such a library of other options for them to do together.

“How you wound up here?”

“Like you really want to hear the story of the poor prostitute?”

“I really want to hear the story of Jared.”

Jared had a second look at Jensen. He was simultaneously confused by Jensen’s open, thoughtful look and absolutely adored it. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not paying me for that.”

“I’m technically not paying you for anything,” Jensen said with a tip of his glass before finishing off the ale. “I'm literally paying you to do nothing but sit here with me.”

Jared watched Jensen’s smile brighten his face and suddenly he decided to just go with the moment than to try to force it somewhere - to bed, or to end, typically. Jared settled his hands in his lap and simply smiled back at Jensen silently, trying his best to not move an inch.

“What’re you - oh, you’re cute, aren’t you?” Jensen lightly smacked Jared’s leg. “Okay, fine, I’m paying you to talk to me. So far all you’ve done is run circles around my questions.”

Leaning in close, Jared nosed Jensen’s cheek. “I’ve also tried to make your money worth it.” He set his hand over Jensen’s thigh, but was stopped before he could reach his goal.

“And I told you,” Jensen replied softly, “That I didn’t want you to. That I’m not that kind of man.”

Jared laughed as he shifted to the side, bringing his leg over to straddle the short wall and face Jensen. He knew Jensen was different from others in this place, hell in this city. But he enjoyed the conversation and kept nitpicking. “You mean the type who visits brothels and seduces prostitutes?”

“I’m not seducing you.”

“Oh really?” Jared laughed again and dropped his voice to mock Jensen from that first night they met. “Are you new here?”

“Well you were! And I was flirting. There’s a huge difference.”

“Which is what?”

“Seducing is done with an intent to bed.”

Jared gave him a look then rolled his eyes. “In case you’ve forgotten, bedding is the prime goal in my profession.” Which had also become a prime goal when it came to Jensen, period.

Jensen moved his empty glass behind him, seeming to put time between them until he finally, and firmly, said, “And maybe I’m more concerned with the secondary goals.”

“Such as?”

“Companionship?” he replied seriously and Jared felt as though there was a circus elephant sitting on his chest. He couldn't breathe or think beyond the idea that someone wanted to know Jared just to know him, and not buy his body for a short time frame like all the johns, even to share house chores like Danneel and Katie, or make some bills like Misha.

“And maybe flirting, too,” Jensen added idly, “but that’s sometimes considered part of the other thing.”

“Why would you want to do that? With a prostitute?” Jared had to ask, even as he sat in quiet fear of the real answer.

“Why not?”

“You do know what a prostitute is, don’t you?” He suddenly wondered if Jensen had been hit in the head at some point in the last week.

“You do laundry, right? ‘Cause I could really use to some help laundering my pants this weekend.”

Jared rolled his eyes and pulled his other leg over to stand and lean back on the wall. He crossed his arms, unsure if he was annoyed with Jensen playing so loosely or with Jensen wasting time that Jared could be spending with someone else to earn much more. They’d been out there nearly an hour and he was sure he could have wrangled Pellegrino and another client in this time. And yet … lately, Jared found himself searching the gambling hall for Jensen, even thinking about how life would be if they’d met under different circumstances.

Jensen quickly stood as well and blocked Jared from leaving, though he tried. “You’re handsome, so very handsome. And I enjoy flirting with handsome men.”

“I’m not a man,” Jared said coyly, as he so often did to intrigue new clients, ones who often enjoyed revisiting youth.

“How old are you?” Jensen needled him with a clever hand at his side to jostle a smile out of Jared. “C’mon, how old?”

Jared didn’t often enjoy talking about himself, especially of the truth to clients. So he lifted an eyebrow and challenged, “How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-five.”

“Okay, then I’m younger than you.”

Jensen smiled, seeming to enjoy the playful arguing. “How much younger?”

“Enough.”

“How much.” Jensen again poked at Jared’s side to draw a laugh.

“Fine, I’m twenty-one.”

“See,” Jensen murmured, moving closer. “You’re absolutely a man. Have been one for three years now. And you finally told me something about yourself.”

Jared dropped his eyes to glance up demurely, truly understanding this moment here. He lived it with every booked customer. “That I did. And maybe now you can tell me,” he whispered while sliding his fingers under the lapels of Jensen’s jacket and pulling him just a few inches closer, “why you insist on paying to flirt with me all these times.”

“Because then the kisses are well earned,” Jensen replied before setting his lips to Jared’s.

On autopilot, Jared opened his mouth to suck along Jensen’s bottom lip, then thought of how Councilman Morgan liked to twist their tongues together in a constant cycle, and tried that. Only Jensen soon wrapped his hands around Jared’s neck and directed Jared’s head to the side while hesitantly dragging his tongue across the flat of Jared’s and easing them into something softer, almost caring.

Jared hadn’t kissed a man like this before; in truth, not many of his clients liked to do more than play with his cock, or insist upon taking Jared from behind, as though hiding the true want in their heart for another man. But of the few who did manage to meet him by mouth, no one had ever taken their time to do it, or shown such patience to simply enjoy the slow play of their tongues, or the wet press of their lips together.

As they moved even closer, Jared could feel the smooth lines of Jensen’s body, a shape he’d begun to imagine unclothed, and could now feel pressed against him. He ran his hands beneath Jensen’s jacket, fingers pressing hard into Jensen’s back, heat bleeding into his hands, and he wanted more, needed it. When his entire life was providing pleasure for other men on automatic, the chance to freely feel was liberating and he couldn’t let it go, couldn’t let Jensen go. So he held Jensen even closer and pressed his tongue even deeper into Jensen’s mouth to taste every inch of it, and he relished the way Jensen’s moan pulsed against his own tongue, to know that Jensen was enjoying this moment just as much as Jared was.
When Jensen broke away, his eyes were shining yet lazy, and Jared was sure he looked much the same for dizziness overtook him and he would have stumbled back if it weren’t for the wall behind him. Jensen slowly licked his bottom lip as his chest rose high with deep breaths, and Jared was instantly committed to any time frame Jensen wished to call for him.

“You know that I do much more than that,” Jared teased, hoping to bait himself another hour or so with Jensen, to draw these clothes off Jensen’s body and admire it in person rather than in his daydreams.

Jensen blinked and the hazy look in his eyes disappeared. “Speaking of, I bet our hour’s up.”

“Been up a long time now. Could always buy yourself another hour, find out what else is on my menu, if you’re still hungry.”

Jensen pulled his hat into place, letting it dip low before lifting it to stare right at Jared. “Maybe next time.” He winked and was on his way back to the fire escape before Jared could stop dreaming of all the possible next times and realize he’d have to get back to not-so-honest work.



A few months after Jensen started his visits to the brothel, and Jared was still surprised when the man showed up to see him. Worse yet, since that kiss on the rooftop, they had seen one another at least a handful of times and Jensen hadn’t once tried to do it again.

Jared deeply wanted to do it again. Needed to do it, to clear his mind of anyone who came between that kiss and each morning that he woke. Especially after Father Nemec came to visit in the afternoon to affirm his faith with hope that Jared was still a good Catholic boy, and made him spend their entire session on his knees. The father savored Jared’s descriptions of all the things his clients had made him do that week, and even more so adored Jared’s pleas for forgiveness.

Jared was flapping a clean sheet into place, wincing at the ache of his neck and knees from confession, as three quick knocks came at his door. Before Jared could halt them to save him from being spotted in just short pants and an undershirt, the door swung open to Danneel ushering Jensen in.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” Jared lifted the sheet up for cover, not wanting Jared to see the dingy tint of his overused and underwashed underclothes.

“Why not?”

“Because, this is my private room.”

“That you just had a customer in?” He thumbed towards the door with an awkward look. “Danneel kept me company until the priest left.”

Jared closed his eyes as he dreaded the fact that Jensen not only waited just below his room while he’d finished up with the priest, but also that Jensen had watched the very man leave after paying for bone-deep satisfaction.

“Need help with that?”

Jensen’s earnest, welcoming smile was equally sweet and disturbing. Jared didn’t understand why Jensen still came all these times, still dropped money for Jared’s time, if he wasn’t going to do more than hang around and talk, if he already knew what kind of trash Jared was. Jared’s mind constantly ran away from him, curious about Jensen’s ulterior motives and what kind of trouble that could bring Jared.

Even without an answer, Jensen took up the other side of the sheet and helped tug it into place. He glanced around and clapped his hands together with a small whistle. “Wow, this place is …”

“Dirty?” Jared frowned and rolled the used bedding into a ball to place in the hamper in the corner for later.

“I was going to say small. Then again, I doubt anything short of a mansion could house someone as big as you.” Jared looked at Jensen from over his shoulder while Jensen began to smile, something soft and easy, something Jared liked to believe was just for him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied simply.

“How are you?”

“I’m okay. And you?”

“Just okay?” Jensen asked as he sat down on Jared’s bed.

It didn’t matter that the bed had just been changed, there was something alarming in having Jensen in Jared’s room, on Jared’s bed, and so close to where Jared worked every day.

“You look bothered,” Jensen said with his hand out towards Jared. “Come here, sit down.” When Jared didn’t move, Jensen reached across the bed to snag Jared’s wrist and bring Jared down to him. “What’s wrong?”

Jared took time to search Jensen’s eyes and when he found them clear and caring, he leaned in to kiss Jensen, to just take another chance … that Jensen once again rebuffed by slinking just out of the way with Jared’s lips landing on Jensen’s shoulder. Wanting to give up completely, Jared rested his temple against Jensen’s arm and grumbled. “That’s what’s wrong. You won’t let me kiss you again.”

Jensen laughed and pulled Jared up to look him in the face. “Certainly you get plenty of that from others.”

“But those others aren’t you,” Jared admitted. “You pay me just the same as all of them, and yet you frustrate me more than any of them, no matter what they ask of me.”

“Good then,” Jensen smiled. “Because I don’t want to be like them.”

“You’re still infuriating like them.”

“I don’t mean to be.”

“I think you do,” Jared replied with a tiny quirk of his mouth.

“I promise you, I don’t. In fact, I don’t even know what I mean to be other than something different to you.”

“Like a friend?” As Jensen nodded, Jared snuck his hand up to pad a finger at the beautiful lower bow of Jensen’s mouth. “I feel like maybe you’re something different than a friend, though.” He chanced a longer touch over Jensen’s lower lip. Jared dragged his finger along Jensen’s chin and down the side of his neck, still hesitantly smiling and maintaining eye contact.

“You’re definitely more than that to me,” Jared insisted. “Because Mike was the first friend I made here, and I never think about him the way I do you.”

Jensen’s throat worked as he swallowed. “And how is that?”

Jared trailed that his index finger down the buttons of Jensen’s oxford shirt, purposely stalling at the first few buttons. “Want me to show you how?”

“Stop,” Jensen said firmly, hand covering Jared’s before bringing it down to his lap.

“See, infuriating.” Jared felt annoyance flare up and he tried to slide away, though Jensen kept a strong hold on his hand. “Let me go. You’re wasting my time right now.”

Jensen tugged Jared’s hand to his chest and tipped his head to catch Jared’s eye again. “Hold on just a minute, I-”

“Should be going,” Jared instructed, again trying to pull his hand away and still failing to really fight Jensen on it. “I surely have other clients coming.”

“Exactly, that’s exactly why I can’t do more.” Jared finally considered Jensen and found a slight frown where there was normally a playful smile, which made Jared’s heart sink a few inches. He didn’t like thinking of Jensen being troubled. “Because I’ll never know if you really mean it, or if you’re doing it to earn a bill.”

In full admission, Jared murmured, “I would mean it with you.”

“But how would I know?”

Jared swallowed hard, considered his answer-one he’d known for weeks-and moved a little closer to Jensen. “Because I wouldn’t accept your money. In fact, I won’t accept it anymore.”

Jensen blinked, remaining still for quiet moments. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want it. Because I like spending time with you.”

“But you need it more than I do.”

It was true; Jared wasn’t leaving this room any time soon, selling himself to pay the bills, put clothes on his back, share money with his parents, and build a nest egg that could get him into something real and steady in due time. But that wasn’t any time in the next year, or even three. Jared knew he’d need to do this for the long haul. Still, he didn’t like hearing it laid out so clearly … especially from Jensen.

“So I’m just your charity case? Something to tell the white collars about at your fancy dinners.”

Jensen slid his hand over Jared’s head, pushing hair behind his ear with a sad look. “Of course you aren’t. I hate those people. I hate being stuck to the rules and regulations of good tidings. I come here and I feel easy and free. Especially with you.”

Jared couldn’t decide if he wanted to continue staring into the depths of Jensen’s caring eyes or shy away from such intense feelings.

“God, Jared,” he whispered. “Just looking at you, I feel happier than I have all day.”

There was no stopping Jared this time. He rushed right in to kiss Jensen, pulling Jensen in with tight arms around his neck so there was no escape. It started as just a hard press of lips before Jared couldn’t control himself, driven by the feelings that had compounded over the last few weeks of spending time with Jensen, over the need to let himself go once again. Suddenly he was just peppering Jensen’s mouth with kisses, happily declaring, “I feel that every time you visit.”

Jensen laughed and set Jared back a few inches, insisting they both relax for a moment.

Jared smiled and nudged Jensen down to his back. “I know how we can relax.” Even as Jensen tried to stop, Jared was determined and hovered closely. “Just let me, please.” He shifted further down the bed then quickly moved forward again. “And I refuse payment of the cash variety.” He quickly kissed Jensen with a flash of a wicked tongue, then slid back down towards Jensen’s ankles so he could unlatch and pull down his trousers and short pants.

In the years that Jared had been in this business, he’d certainly seen countless cocks, but none meant so much as Jensen’s, because the moment wasn’t a consideration of whether there was enough to work with or far too much to fit comfortably … somewhere … it was more about Jensen allowing this to happen, to bare himself to Jared, and for Jared to please him simply because he wanted to, not for money.

Jared carefully wrapped his hand around Jensen’s dick, half hard and a warm weight within Jared’s fingers. He slowly began to fist Jensen and glanced up to find Jensen watching in return with half-lidded eyes and his lips tucked tight between his teeth. Jared flashed him a quick smile then sank down on his cock, opening his mouth wide and laving the underside with the flat of his tongue.

Lifting up then slowly down, Jared worked his tongue like all the times before then stopped himself from that train of thought, because this was Jensen, and it was meant to be different.

This time, he slowly pulled up to suckle at the head of Jensen’s cock, stroking him continuously. Then he moved back down when Jensen’s fingers curled through Jared’s hair and his hips rose off the mattress to meet Jared’s mouth. He sucked hard at Jensen’s dick to pull the saltiness from his skin and memorize the burst of flavor on his tongue. And when Jensen’s hips began to rise more impatiently, Jared widened his lips to let him fuck his mouth, but Jensen stopped that with a hushed no, Jared, no and a soft pat over his head.

With his customers, Jared would take that as a directive, but he knew in that moment that Jensen was pleading with Jared to not make it solely about Jensen, or about Jensen using Jared. He went back to licking up the sides of Jensen’s dick and drawing the head into his mouth and found just the right move for Jensen to begin panting and clenching his fingers in Jared’s hair. Jared kept on with the pressure, feeling his own dick fatten up with the adrenaline of knowing he was pleasuring Jensen, that they were finally at this point, together.

Jensen came with a deep groan that would be etched deep into Jared’s brain, and as he came down from the high, he slowly stroked Jared’s hair and breathed slow and deep in the quiet of the room.
Jared moved up Jensen’s chest, dropping kisses along the shirt, vest, and jacket still in place, though a little wrinkled, until he could take Jensen’s lips with a tender touch.

“How about you?” Jensen mumbled against Jared’s mouth as he reached between them to cup Jared through his short pants. “Do you accept payment in these terms?”

Jared smiled and kissed Jensen again.



A glance at the clock told Jared that he had just five more minutes before he needed to show Jensen the door and change his bedding. Then he’d need to shower, shave, dress, and head downstairs for the Friday rush.

Jensen, it seemed, was in no rush or care for time. He remained alongside Jared in bed with one arm tucked beneath Jared’s neck and a cigarette dangling from that hand. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing, especially when Jensen had to tuck his arm down to smoke, but there was something hypnotizing in watching Jensen’s lips wrap around the end of the paper, pull, then puff the smoke out. And every one once in a while, Jensen would drop that hand down for Jared to steal a drag, and Jared was reminded that it was just him and Jensen in this quiet moment.
Until Jensen broke it by asking a question he’d been asking since the second time they sat together. “How did you wind up in the city?”

Jared rolled to face Jensen. “How do you know I wasn’t born here?”

They both shifted when Jensen had to put out the cigarette in a glass beside the bed. Then Jensen smirked at him. “Because you’re too bright eyed to have been beaten up by this place for twenty-one years.”

“I don’t know whether that’s a compliment or not.”

Jensen rested his mouth against Jared’s hair, his breath slowly warming Jared’s temple. “It is, definitely.”

Jared tucked his head down to admit, “My dad got hurt and lost his job at the mine, so I moved out here to try to make some money to send home.”

“Where’s home?”

“Pennsylvania.”

“Do you miss it?”

Jared shrugged and decided not to consider that answer; memory lane never did him any favors.

“What were you going to do?”

“You don’t think I planned on this?” Jared joked, then sobered. “I sold newspapers for a little while until they thought I was getting too old and they could pay the little kids half of what I needed.”

“Then what?”

Jared closed his eyes as Jensen’s fingers sifted through the ends of his hair. He smiled at the feeling even as his stomach soured at the memory. “Misha brought me in to help stock the bar … then we all found out I could make more doing … more.”

Jensen leaned back a little and continued to brush hair away from Jared’s face, watching closely even as Jared wouldn’t fully look up at him. “What would you do if you weren’t here?”

Just as Jared opened his mouth, Katie knocked at the door and called out the time, signaling that Jensen needed to leave. Jared sighed and went limp at Jensen’s side.

Still, Jensen pulled Jared in tighter, said at his hair, “Tell me quick, before I have to leave.”

“I’d help kids,” Jared blurted out, unsure of what else to say, but he felt it down to his toes. “Get them real jobs. I don’t know what real jobs there are for them, but they deserve more than how I ended up. I’m not mad about it. I chose this, but they shouldn’t have to.”

Jensen pulled back to look at Jared then softly kissed him before packing up to leave in silence.



As Saturday night unraveled to a packed house, Jared had his fill of customers. Principal Cotton had taken to Jared’s backside like he would a troublesome student and Judge Cole finished up the last hour by testing Jared’s will for punishment.

When Jared appeared in the ballroom, where a handful of tables were filled with blackjack and the far wall was surrounded by roulette players, he scanned the area for any new prospects and eventually found Jensen sitting at the bar with Mike entertaining a small crowd with a story elaborate enough to warrant pinwheeling arms.

Like a magnet, Jared was immediately drawn to Jensen, though waylaid by a bitter look and a shake of the head from Danneel as she passed. He’d already been lectured twice in the last week about Jensen hanging around too often, but Jared simply told her that Jensen was a grown man and paying customer to all business in the building. It was hard for even Misha, the owner, to complain, but many in the place were questioning Jensen’s real effect on the business.

Once Jared was within reach, Jensen patted his back and smiled, then glanced over his shoulder. Likely seeking out a retreating customer.

“Don’t bother looking,” Jared insisted with a quick touch to Jensen’s thigh.

“Why not?”

“Because he’s probably already gone. And I hate when you know, anyway.” While he waited to catch Mike’s attention, which was now focused on supplying Katie and her newest john with liberal amounts of alcohol, Jared caught Pellegrino’s eye and nodded with a crooked smile. Then Jensen looked that way, Pellegrino rolled his eyes and moved away from the bar, and Jared sighed. “Speaking of, it’s been said that you’re bad for business.”

Jensen nearly glared, annoyance creasing the inside of his fine brow line. “Who said?”

“Katie, Danneel, Misha,” he quickly counted off.

“And you?”

“Yeah, and me,” Jared admitted with a frown. “We work under the pretense of no attachments, yet here you are … attached.”

Jensen ran his hand over Jared’s waist, fingers dragging in the soft fabric of the high-buttoned vest that Jensen had bought for him just two days ago-his new method of payment for their time together. “What if I said I couldn’t help but be attached to you?”

“I’d concede that I’m completely irresistible, but still on the clock.”

Jensen pulled Jared even closer, right between his legs, and looked up with his eyelashes fluttering. “And when do I get to have a few runs of the second hand?”

“Asks the man who wanted nothing more than to pay for talking.”

“That was then,” Jensen murmured.

“And now?” Jared asked with a flirty smile

“Now I just want all of you.”

As Jensen stared up at Jared, his eyes cleared of any joking and he captivated Jared for long moments. Long enough that Jared only realized Mike had finally served him when the bartender smacked the bar in quick succession.

“Drinks aren’t free,” Mike said. “Not even for a working girl.”

Jared paid him then swirled the stirrer in the tall glass before taking a sip. It was distracting that Jensen was still watching him intently.

“What do you say?”

“I say that I’m thirsty,” Jared replied before taking a long sip. “And a wise man once told me that thirst waits for no one.”

Jensen abruptly stood and moved in close enough that it was impossible for Jared to continue to be distracted by his drink. His voice dropped low, barely heard above the jovial singing and organ in the back corner or the cries for red at the roulette table. “How much for the whole night?”

Jared shook his head. “You don’t pay anymore.”

“I will. I want to. You know I can. I have more than enough money to have you for the rest of the night.”

“That wasn’t our deal,” Jared insisted, about to start another rebuttal, but Jensen cut him off.

“I don’t care,” Jensen replied sternly then lessened the strain in his voice. “Let me have you so no one else can.”

From the corner of his eye, Jared spotted Misha nearing them with Pellegrino in tow. Neither looked happy, though Pellegrino always had some sliver of smug pleasure about him, and Jared gathered that Misha was about to move Jensen to some other area of the casino so Jared could handle a real paying customer.

It was then that he realized taking money from Jensen for these services was better than being handed over to a fair stranger, so once Misha was in range, Jared firmly said, “Fine, pay Misha then.”

“Pay me for what?” Misha asked.

“For Jared,” Jensen replied. “For the evening.”

Misha chuckled and motioned at Pellegrino. “I couldn’t. Jared has plenty of clients to service tonight, I couldn’t deny my customers that.”

“I’ll double his hourly rate.”

Knowing Jensen could afford it and hearing Jensen wager for it were two entirely different matters, and Jared was suddenly embarrassed to be in this situation at all.

“Cash, right now, and he’ll be back by sunrise.”

“Back?” Jared asked just as Misha shrieked, “What do you mean back?”

“I give double his hourly rate to you,” Jensen explained, “I know he won’t accept anything from me anyway. The money’s all yours, and he’s allowed to leave until morning.”

At some point, Pellegrino backed away and Jared was left gobsmacked by the entire proposition. Misha, too, for he laughed a bit wildly and asked, “Where are you taking him?”

“It’s your clients’ business what they do to Jared, why does it matter where I take him?”

“I can’t start this kind of trend with the rest of my girls, are you crazy?”

Jared immediately feared what repercussions would come from this … he imagined that even if Misha did let the arrangement pass, he’d return to find his belongings - what little he had of them - on the front step with directions to work elsewhere. He certainly couldn’t let that happen and he tried to argue with Jensen to step back from the argument, all while Misha went on about how maddeningly insane Jensen must be for his suggestions.

Just then, Jensen’s smile smoothed out to something more predatory and he stepped closer to Misha. “Did it ever occur to you that every other bootlegger in the area was put behind bars except yours?”

The slap was metaphorical but felt all the same, and Jared immediately wanted out of the situation as much as he wanted to know why Jensen was doing this.

“Jensen, stop,” Jared insisted, “this is ridicul-”

“If you’re not careful in your handling of business, another Ackles just may step foot inside your fine establishment.”

Misha took another step to bring them nearly nose to nose. “I don’t take kindly to threats.”

Jared quickly pulled Jensen back. “It’s not a threat, right Jensen? No one’s threatening no one.”

Jensen straightened his jacket and looked at Misha. “Of course not.” After a beat, he asked, “So, double Jared’s rate?”

Misha smacked his lips together and straightened his jaw. “If he’s not back by the first peak of that sun tomorrow, I’m sending Clif after both of you.”

“Not a problem,” Jared responded for them, “Pay him now.”

Once Jensen did, Jared led Jensen away and as quickly to the door as possible. He needed to end the argument and end it fast, no matter what the outcome was.

“What an asshole.” Jensen spat at the front door before Jared pulled him even further from the building. “Acting like he fucking owns you.”

“He does own me, Jensen. Remember? That’s how we even met.”

Jensen smiled and tugged Jared close, hands closing around Jared’s jaw, and bringing him down to kiss like he had all the time in the world. He nearly did, certainly paid for it. “It doesn’t matter now,” Jensen said in between kisses, “Because tonight you’re mine, and mine only.”

Jared fell into the kiss, realizing just how much he’d wanted it to be true, if only not for money or threats to his boss. They could pretend for the night.

Though it didn’t feel like pretending once they were at Jensen’s spacious apartment. Jared reveled in the rich fabrics draping the furniture and the windows, and the crystal adorning the set dining table. He couldn’t even bear to step too closely to the four-poster bed centered in a room that was nearly as large as the casino floor.

“It’s not gonna bite,” Jensen said against Jared’s lips, backing him up to the bed. “Though I might.”

Jared chuckled as Jensen’s roaming fingers hit a ticklish spot along his ribs, but then twisted away when Jensen tried to pull his shirt up. Judge Cole was a long-time customer who certainly had learned how to balance the evidence of pain with the actual feel of it, yet Jared knew his upper body was littered in bruises typically hidden from view. There was no way he’d let Jensen see them, and he continued to shift away and try to get to Jensen first.

Eventually, Jensen overtook Jared with a deep kiss and drew them both down to the bed, luscious silk letting them easily slide across the top of the bedspread.

“Jared, let me see,” he whispered, staring down into Jared’s eyes with the kindness he’d always shown.

Slowly, Jared undid the vest with Jensen pulling it away, then the oxford, and finally tugged his undershirt up and off. Jensen’s hand carefully roamed Jared’s chest, fingers barely touching the marks beginning to bloom. He shifted up to rest over Jared, combing his bangs away from his forehead.

“Will you let me keep you?”

Jared stared in return, trying to imagine in what universe this was really happening, or possible. “Keep me what?”

“You’re too good for that place, for those people.” Jensen set a tender kiss to Jared’s lips and moved back to watch him again.

“But I’m not good enough for this place, or your people,” Jared answered, knowing - and accepting - how honest the statement was.

“You’re more than good enough for me, and that’s all that matters.”

Jared didn’t have a chance to answer for Jensen took his mouth in a passionate, deep kiss, wrapping his arms around Jared so they were pressed from shoulders down to their toes. They only moved apart to unmake the bed and disrobe, and even that was done with care, not as habit to get down to the paid item, but like Jensen truly cared about peeling away every inch of fabric to see more and more of Jared.

Jensen then took his time with Vaseline-slicked fingers and opened Jared up, all while still kissing him breathless. With just one finger, Jensen stroked in and out. With two, he pressed against Jared’s walls, and he used a third to slide along Jared’s rim to tease him for more. Jared bit off moans and sighs until Jensen finally slicked himself up and pushed in all the way, and then Jared released a rough groan and arched his back off the bed.

Jensen slid his arms beneath Jared’s back and held him close as he began to withdraw then push back in at a slow, easy pace. Jared had done this a thousand times and yet never like this. Never in this nice of a room or bed, never in this position where eyes had to meet and wants were bared, and never with someone who sought to please Jared before himself.

Jared felt the fullness of Jensen every time he slid in, yet missed it entirely whenever he pulled back. He continued tugging at Jensen’s back to get him buried as deep as possible and clenched his eyes tight as Jensen hit his prostate. Heat burst beneath Jared’s skin and he panted with Jensen as they both worked towards their climaxes, Jensen first then Jared with Jensen stripping Jared’s dick until he came between them, painting both their chests.

He was barely aware of Jensen cleaning them up with a discarded sheet then wrapping himself around Jared. Once they were settled, Jared hazarded to ask, “How did you end up here?”

Jensen spent most of the next hour telling Jared all about growing up in the old money of the Ackles tradition and his plans to take over his father’s law business with entirely different motives.



Just before dawn broke, Jared rushed to get his things together.

Jensen simply sat up in bed, silky blue sheets billowing around his hips, and pulled Jared back into bed. “Stay, please,” he begged before kissing him.

Jared broke the kiss before it got too far, and frowned. “The deal was that I was back before dawn. It’s already half past five.”

“Don’t go back there. Stay here.”

“I can’t,” he replied with a soft laugh. “And you don’t have enough money to pay Misha for all my business.”

“How much do you think you’re worth?” Jensen set his hand to the side of Jared’s face, thumbing at his cheekbone. “How much can I pay you to walk away?”

“I can’t do that,” Jared said, moving away from Jensen, “don’t be silly.”

Jensen grabbed Jensen’s wrist. “You once said you enjoyed me more than the money.”

Jared’s mouth opened then closed, a few times over as he felt those words strongly, but knew he couldn’t do anything about it now. “I do, but …”

“But?”

“It’s my job. My only way to feed myself. To help my family..”

“I can get you a job,” Jensen insisted immediately. “My father is always looking for assistants and people to run errands for the firm.”

Jared rolled his eyes, snorting as if it were a joke yet feeling hurt, too. “Right, a former prostitute is going to be his assistant.”

“Or mine. I’ll hire you on there.”

A rough sigh was Jared’s only reply.

“I don’t want you to go back there, Jared. I don’t like it,” he added with force.

Jared turned back to Jensen, staring for long moments. “Is this an ultimatum?”

Jensen didn’t say yes, but he also didn’t say no; he simply swallowed and watched Jared with wide eyes. When neither of them had the words to continue, Jared was on his way out the door to avoid prolonging the disagreement or his return to Misha.



Three days passed without word or sight of Jensen. Jared did his best to not worry, or to convince himself that it was of no matter. Jensen had been a paying customer, now ending their agreement, and that was that. There were plenty of other men for Jared to spend his time with and earn a dime from.

Except he didn’t love any of them. He loved Jensen, and just knowing there was disagreement over Jared’s employment was a bother. Worse yet was the thought that Jensen was taking the me or the money issue to heart and had moved on himself, to someone more appropriate as a companion.

Unsurprisingly, Misha never mentioned Jared’s day away, but had happily commented on the amount of business Jared was doing. Without Jensen’s lingering presence, more customers were stepping forward and Jared made more in three days than he had last week.

Not that it satisfied anything. In fact, it made it worse when he ventured out for breakfast rolls at Mrs. Rhodes’ bakery a block away and saw Councilman Morgan out with his wife and kids to do the same.

Jared offered them all a polite smile as he was about to enter the bakery, but the Councilman didn’t return it. Perhaps he’d remembered the quick and dirty blow job he’d insisted giving Jared before bending them both over the side of the bed for a second orgasm inside Jared.

The Councilman was visibly rattled as he redirected his wife, who had a boy and a girl by each hand. “Not this bakery. We shouldn’t even be in this neighborhood. Just a bunch of riff-raff.”

It stopped Jared dead in his tracks. He’d serviced the Councilman for five years now; their relationship was nearly as old as the man’s children, but he couldn’t even manage an affable nod and smile as though Jared were a perfectly good man out for a morning errand.

Jared returned to the brothel empty handed and ignored Katie and Danneel’s complaints about breakfast. He sat alone in his room, right in the center of the sagging mattress that squeaked with every shift, just as it had done for an hour with Councilman Morgan last night. When Jared couldn’t take that noise anymore, he stood and walked to his dresser, fingers immediately coasting over the glass face of the pocketwatch Jensen had gifted him back when they first started talking.

Back when Jared felt like he was being wooed, as if he were a proper gentleman meeting another proper man, with instant attraction between them.

Somehow, the dingy smell of the tiny room grew stronger and Jared couldn’t bear to stand there any longer.

Before he knew it, he’d had his few changes of clothes tossed into a bag, and his jacket and pants pockets were filled with the couple bits of jewelry and accessories he’d earned over the years - thanks to the hands of customers that now made him ill.

From there, he walked the streets and found himself standing in front of Jensen’s building, where the lavish apartment took up the entire northwest corner. Jared glanced up the side of the bright brick and imagined Jensen standing in the window, looking across the city until he would spot Jared and run downstairs to collect him in his arms and drag him inside.

Instead, he encountered the doorman who insisted Jared move along to another spot for hand-outs.



It took eight hours for Jensen to reappear.

Dusk was coming upon the city and Jared had spent most of the day window shopping up and down the block, so he was certain to never miss Jensen returning from work. In the dim light, Jared kept to the side of the entryway, far enough off that the doorman wouldn’t immediately find him, but hopefully close enough that he could grab Jensen’s attention.

Jensen did glance up as he neared, offered a small, innocent, unknowing smile in Jared’s direction and to the doorman. Then abruptly stopped.

In reality, Jensen looked fairly average at the moment, had been far more gorgeous under the soft lights of the brothel and in the best suits his money had bought. Still, he was a mirage for Jared’s bitter, tortured mind to settle in. Jared recalled all the quiet moments they’d had together and felt warm with love, then overcome with bubbling excitement to recall all the shared smiles and touches.

Jared nervously stepped forward, only to be directed back by the doorman.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ackles, I will take care of this …” He gave Jared a rather nasty look and huffed. “This homeless boy.”

Reliving the moment of the morning, Jared’s heart wanted to implode, taking all of his hopes for a better life with it. He cleared his throat, pushed emotion back down, and made a few steps to the side. “I’m sorry. I was just waiting for someone else. I’m on my way.”

“Roger, leave him be,” Jensen said as Jared moved to the sidewalk. That statement forced Jared to step even faster, but then hands were around Jared’s arms with Jensen swinging him around to face. “Jared, what’re you doing here?” His hands ran over Jared’s shoulders, his neck, and settled on his face. “Are you okay? Did something happen at Misha’s?”

Jared slid out of Jensen’s hold and shook his head, clearing his throat once again. “No, nothing happened, I just …” Suddenly, Jensen’s face seemed just as open as every other time they’d been together, and Jared’s confidence bloomed even as his nerves caught hold of him, bringing tears to his eyes with fear to say it. “I heard you were hiring?”

Jensen was filled with the same tentative hope as a small smile spread his lips apart and his eyes shone. “Aren’t expected to work tonight?”

Shaking his head, Jared gripped the handles of his bag tighter. “Not anymore.”

With a nod, Jensen stepped forward and bit his lower lip. “We’ll have to take you shopping in the morning, get you some better clothes than this.”

That stopped Jared, worrying over how he really looked in public, standing anywhere near Jensen who was still suited from work. “No, I couldn’t-”

“You liked the vest I got you, right?” Jensen dragged his hands over the wool of Jared’s ill-fitted, shrunken vest. “I can take you back to Fuller’s. He’s been our family tailor for years. He’ll do a good job on you.”

Jared’s voice squeaked as he felt the rug being pulled out from beneath him. It was impossible. “Jensen, I can’t afford that. You know that.”

“Well, of course I do,” Jensen agreed with a bright grin, “But you’ll pay me back when you can, right? A few paychecks should get you in order. And then sometime after that, you can help me with the rent. This place is pretty expensive.”

Jensen was dopily smiling and Jared couldn’t hold out any longer. He dropped his bag, threw himself at Jensen, and let himself be held while squeezing Jensen around the shoulders.

Against Jared’s ear, Jensen whispered, “I’m so happy you left that place.”

“I’m happy you still want me to,” Jared admitted.

Jensen shifted back with a frown. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You haven’t been there all week.”

Glancing away, Jensen dipped his head down, but held tight to Jared’s hands. “I didn’t want to watch you talk to other men, or see them touch you. Or even know about it anymore.” He looked at Jared again, hand coming up to rest on Jared’s cheek. “But now, I’m glad you’re here. And with your things!” he suddenly exclaimed, gesturing at Jared’s solo bag. “We’re going to have to get you more things. That’s the first thing a man must do with a well-earned paycheck.”

“Buy stuff?”

“Yes, buy stuff.” Jensen ushered them into the lobby and onto the elevator. “That’s what you’ll realize, Jared. When money is well-earned, it feels great to spend it.”

“I have to send some home, too, you know.” Jared sighed, hating how one part of his life was ending, but that one wasn’t. His parents weren’t magically okay just because he was beginning to feel it himself.

“I know, but you’ll have to take care of yourself, too.”

He hesitantly smiled as Jensen reeled him in, going so far as to tuck Jared’s head just under his chin, arms wrapped around him. “I will.”

"I know," Jensen said with a smug sort of fondness. "And I will, too."

brothelfic, fic, j2

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