Fic: Jensen's Choice (J2, NC-17)
Chapter Four
Jensen woke up to find Jared pushing his legs apart and decided to implement Operation Drama Queen. He lifted his head from the pillow, twisted his torso and punched Jared squarely in the balls.
Jared yelled and threw himself sideways which caused him to fall off the bed. He rolled on the floor clutching his groin and moaning.
“Fuck, Jen!”
“No,” Jensen said, turning to face Jared. “There will be no fucking Jen for a few days. My ass needs a rest, unless you want me to start needing diapers. And if that’s one of your kinks, I’ll shoot you on principle.”
Jared managed to sit up. He pouted at Jensen and did his very best lost puppy expression.
“Not gonna work, Jare. This ass is closed for business.”
“Fine,” Jared grumbled. “I’ll settle for a blow job.”
If the way Jared’s face suddenly paled was any indication, Jensen’s expression was suitably thunderous.
“You’ll settle for a blow job?” he said icily. “My blow jobs are five fucking star blow jobs! They are not something you settle for. They are something you praise God on a daily fucking basis that you are lucky enough to be getting! And if you don’t appreciate them, maybe you’ll need to settle for a week of me sleeping in the spare room!”
“I do appreciate them, I do!” Jared said earnestly, scrambling up onto his knees and crawling forward so that his face was only inches from Jensen’s.
“Good,” Jensen smiled at him warmly. “Now go and get ready for work. Some of us are trying to sleep.
Jared’s face fell. “But…blow job?”
Jensen scowled at him. “It’s six o’clock in the Goddamn morning. If you’re horny, jerk off in the shower like a normal person. Now go away,” Jensen waved a hand at him. “I need my beauty sleep.”
He closed his eyes and pretended to have settled back into sleep. In reality every cell of his being was tensed and ready and all of his senses were straining to detect Jared’s next move.
Jared sighed. “Fine,” he said. “Fucking drama queen.”
Jensen heard the stomp of footsteps and then the hiss of the shower running and then he relaxed slightly.
He rolled onto his back, folded his arms beneath his head and stared up at the ceiling. Even though he himself had named this play ‘Operation Drama Queen’, the fact that Jared actually thought he was a drama queen for refusing to have sex was pissing him off. A person should always have autonomy over their own body. Jensen was all up for playing around with power exchanges and consent. The operative words being playing around. Jared though, seemed to legitimately believe that he was entitled to do whatever he wanted to Jensen and Jensen had been having too much fun with the admittedly awesome sex to set him straight on that.
If he were honest with himself, he’d also been a little worried that Jared might hand him over to Pellegrino to get shot if he wasn’t compliant, but he no longer believed that Jared would do that. Rachel and Ruthie were right. Jared had a giant crush on him. He wanted Jensen to stick around. And that gave Jensen some power. Looking at their… relationship, for want of a better word…through Steve’s eyes yesterday (the way Steve had looked at him sadly when he’d been expected to hand over his winnings to Jared) had been the push Jensen needed to realize that he had to set Jared straight, and soon.
The shower stopped and Jensen rolled back onto his stomach, because it was easier to hide his face like that.
Soon there was more foot stomping and the noise of drawers and cupboards being thrown open and slammed shut. Jensen continued to feign sleep. And he snored obnoxiously loudly to let Jared know that he was sleeping just fine through all his noise.
After Jared had gone, Jensen went back to sleep for real and woke up again a little after nine am.
It was Saturday morning and Jared had said that he would be back from work at around lunchtime. Jensen sat up, lit a cigarette and planned his day. And then he showered, dressed, made himself breakfast and called Chris for a chat.
Around eleven o’clock, he put the next stage of Operation Drama Queen into play. He dialled Jared’s cell phone number. Repeatedly. Until Jared answered.
“What’s wrong?” Jared said when he picked up.
“I’m bored,” Jensen whined.
“I’m working, Jensen.”
“I know. And you won’t let me go anywhere without you or an official escort, so I’m stuck in your tiny apartment with nothing to do!”
Jensen wanted to see how far he could push things. Would Jared ditch work and come home? Would he give Jensen permission to go out and do something fun by himself?
“Take the dogs for a walk,” Jared said, and hung up on him.
Well fuck. That was like being assigned chores.
Jensen rang Jared back, but the call went straight through to voicemail.
Jensen thought about going out anyway, but Jared had told him in no uncertain terms that if he went out without permission he wouldn’t like the consequences. Jensen’s traitorous dick twitched as he remembered the last punishment Jared had dished out to him. Truthfully, he’d kind of enjoyed it, but he wasn’t really keen to get into the kinky stuff with Jared again until they’d gotten some safe words in place.
Jensen looked out the window at the dogs. They both had sad, pleading eyes just like their daddy. Jensen sighed.
“You’re lucky I’m bored,” he told them as he got their leads out.
The dogs yipped and danced and nearly knocked him over in their enthusiasm.
Not only did they have eyes like their daddy, they also didn’t care much for the word ‘no’-just like their daddy. Jensen was dragged into trashcans and down dirty alleys. He was jerked down the street after cats and other dogs. After the third time Harley tried to drag him into oncoming traffic-chasing God knows what-Jensen decided to head for home. So of course, Sadie decided she needed to take a crap; right on some old woman’s front lawn.
“You take that shit with you, young man,” the woman yelled, coming out onto her front stoop and waving a walking stick at him. “Where’s your poop-scoop? Don’t you leave that shit on my lawn!”
Jensen fled.
When he got back to Jared’s apartment, Jared was already home.
“Why didn’t you take the poop-scoop?” he asked when Jensen walked in.
Jensen scowled. “Well if you’d told me I needed to take it instead of hanging up on me, I would’ve. I got yelled at. By a really angry old black woman. It’s not funny, Jared.” Jensen dumped the dogs’ leads and let them go and knock Jared over with their excitement and enthusiasm.
“It’s a little funny,” Jared said, as he hugged the mutts and then wrangled them into the back yard with a skill that Jensen had yet to develop.
“You need to take me shopping,” Jensen said once Jared was back inside.
Jared raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
Jensen stalked right up to Jared and got in his face. “I have four outfits, Jared. Four. And you broke the button on my best jeans and your filthy mutts knocked over a bunch of trash cans and I got disgusting smelly garbage all over these jeans. I need more clothes.”
Jared raised an eyebrow. “Wash those jeans. Sew the button back on the other ones.”
Jensen’s mouth fell open. “I don’t sew! And I can’t survive with only four outfits.”
“Sure you can,” Jared said easily.
Jensen produced an epic bitchface. “You bought out my debt because you think I’m a hot piece of ass. And I am,” Jensen stripped off his leather jacket and ran his hands seductively over his torso. Jared licked his lips. “But it takes effort to look this good,” Jensen said, prowling with sensual intent toward Jared. “I need more clothes. And some decent hair product.”
Jared swallowed hard. He looked hungrily at Jensen’s nipples, visible through his tight white tee-shirt and then made a very obvious effort to look away.
When he looked back at Jensen, the heat in his eyes was banked and his lips were a thin flat line. “I’m not rich, Jen,” he said tightly, his shoulders rigid with tension. “Unlike you I’ve never had a billionaire Daddy to give me a Black Amex. I’ve had to work real fucking hard for every cent I’ve ever earned. And you know what I did with my savings, Jen? I gave every cent I had to The Beast so that he wouldn’t put a bullet in your brain. And even then, it wasn’t enough. I still owe him thirty grand. Which is why I had to give him the prize money you won. So don’t start asking me to buy you shit. I ain’t your sugar Daddy and you ain’t my kept boy.”
It hadn’t actually occurred to Jensen to wonder how Jared had managed to buy out his debt. He had, after all, stolen one hundred thousand dollars from Pellegrino, and Jensen might have been guilty as charged on the billionaire Daddy front, but he was aware that was a lot of money. And Jared was younger than he was, and a foster kid. And okay, sure, he was also the VP of an outlaw bikers’ club and no doubt had some ill-gotten gains to supplement his regular income, but still, one hundred grand was a lot of money.
Jensen dropped the attempt at seductive manipulation immediately.
“Okay,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Firstly, thank you. I don’t think I said that yet. I appreciate the lack of bullet in my brain. Secondly, the way you’ve been demanding sex, you can see what I’d be a little confused on the whole ‘kept boy’ issue. And thirdly, I have money. I don’t actually need yours. In fact, I could give you the thirty grand you still owe Pellegrino if you want.”
Jared shook his head. “Your daddy cut off all your credit cards, remember?”
Jensen smirked. “Yeah. But you didn’t seriously think I wasn’t prepared for that, did you? I’ve got my own bank account that my parents know nothing about.”
Jared sat down on the arm of the sofa and folded his arms across his chest. “Is that where you put the money you stole?”
Jensen crossed to sit in the armchair opposite Jared. “Yeah. Not all of it. I put most of it in there, a bit at a time over a few years so I wouldn’t get tripped up by the anti-money laundering laws in the Patriot Act. And some of it I gave to people.”
“People?” Jared raised an eyebrow.
Jensen got out his cigarettes and lit up. “Yeah. People.”
“Lovers?” Jared said teasingly.
Jensen drew back and then shook his head.
“Then who? C’mon Jen. You look embarrassed. Who’d you give it do? Nuns? Hookers? Who?”
Jensen rolled his eyes. “The household staff, if you must know.”
Jared’s eyes widened. “Household staff.” he echoed.
Jensen could feel his cheeks flushing. “Kind of comes with the whole ‘billionaire’ territory. Only my parents are assholes, so they hire illegal immigrants and underpay them and treat them like shit, and still expect them to be grateful. I just…paid out some Christmas bonuses to try and make things a bit fairer.”
Jared burst out laughing. “Fuck me,” he said. “You’re like Robin Hood! Steal from the rich, give to the poor.”
“Yeah, fuck you,” Jensen said. “I’d look good in tights and a tunic.”
Jared sniggered. “I dunno…those legs are pretty bowed.”
Jensen took a final drag on his smoke and then butted it out in the over-flowing and ever present ashtray.
“So are we going shopping?”
Jared’s expression became pained. “Yeah. It’s not really my thing. But you can go.”
“Really? But you said I couldn’t go out of your apartment without you or an escort.”
Jared’s look was suddenly sharp. “And you’re a hardass with a reputation for not doing what he’s told, so why didn’t you just say fuck that I’m outta here?”
Jensen chewed at his lip. “Maybe I thought that if I gave you too much shit you might hand me back to Pellegrino for that bullet,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “And maybe I kind of get off on you being bossy.”
“Oh, really?” Jared’s smile was smug. “In that case, there’s something I want you to do.”
Jensen narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“I want you to buy yourself a pair of red, lacy panties. And I want you to change into them while you’re out and wear them home.”
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me?”
“No” Jared stood up and close the gap between them with a step. He leaned forward, one hand cupping the back of Jensen’s head, the other cupping his crotch. “You were right before. I’m very attracted to your hot ass and your gorgeous, sexy dick.”
Jared drew his thumb across the head of Jensen’s rapidly chubbing dick and Jensen couldn’t help spreading his legs a little wider.
Jared smiled knowingly. “Just think,” he said, “how much hotter and sexier your ass and your dick and your balls are gonna look when they’re being held tight by pretty lacy panties.”
Jensen pushed up against Jared’s hand; he couldn’t help himself. “Lace is scratchy,” he said, a little breathlessly, wrinkling his nose.
Jared smiled wolfishly. “Don’t pretend you’re not gonna get off on that. You like things a little rough,” his grip on Jensen’s hair tightened and he stroked Jensen in earnest, until Jensen was sure he was only seconds away from coming in his pants. And then he gripped Jensen’s ball sac and twisted hard.
“Ow!” Jensen yelled, trying to pull away. “You fucker. That hurt.”
“Are you gonna buy yourself some pretty red panties for me, Jen?”
Jensen scowled. “What happens if I refuse?”
“Well,” Jared let go of him and Jensen adjusted himself subtly. His dick had gone mostly soft and his balls were throbbing with pain. “If you refuse I’ll just have to find some other way of making your ass red.”
Jensen rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll buy and wear panties for you. Happy now?”
Jared grinned. “Ecstatic.” He stretched and Jensen watched as his Henley rode up exposing his flat, toned stomach. “I’m gonna go take a shower; get the smell of motor oil off me. I’ll see you and your sexy panties later.”
Once Jared had disappeared into the shower, Jensen went and retrieved his duffel bag. He changed into clean jeans and then took out the hard plastic liner from the bottom of the duffel and pried open the slit that he’d made in it. He retrieved his debit card, bank-book and passport from inside the liner, and then he put the bank-book and passport on the nightstand where Jared would see it. He put the debit card in his wallet.
And then he went and called a cab to take him to Rodeo Drive.
--
To be honest, Jensen wasn’t really a huge fan of shopping. But he did like to look good and unfortunately, that meant shopping.
It was a little before five when Jensen got home and he was laden with bags, mostly from Armani, but a few from Versace as well. And stuffed inside one of the Armani bags was a tiny bag from Agent Provocateur, which currently contained his boxers.
Jared looked up from the sofa and shook his head at all the bags. Jensen smiled sunnily and went and dumped everything on the bed.
“Show me,” Jared said and Jensen nearly leapt out of his skin.
“Way to give a guy a heart attack,” he said. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
“Show me,” Jared repeated. “I wanna see your panties.”
Jensen rolled his eyes and muttered freak under his breath, but he dutifully undid his jeans and peeled them down just enough to reveal the side-tied, delicately trimmed lace panties. They had a floral pattern on open net tulle and were surprisingly soft. They looked good on him, if he did say so himself, even if the head of his very hard dick was peeping out of the top of them.
“Fuck,” Jared swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbling. “Strip. Everything off except the panties.”
What Jensen actually wanted right now was to sit down, put his feet up and have a beer and a cigarette; he’d been traipsing from store to store on Rodeo Drive for several hours and his feet were killing him. On the other hand, getting mostly naked did seem to hold the promise of an orgasm in the very near future and his dick was definitely on board with that idea. Besides, once he’d stripped, Jensen figured he’d end up horizontal pretty quickly so he moved his shopping bags to the floor and then got undressed.
Once Jensen was standing beside the bed wearing nothing but the skimpy pair of red lacy panties, Jared twirled his finger to indicate that Jensen should turn around. He swore with quiet reverence as he palmed Jensen’s ass, and then he pressed his dick against Jensen’s crack before reaching around to rub his hand over Jensen’s lace-clad dick.
“Can I tie you to the bed?” Jared whispered in his ear.
Jensen nodded. “Yeah. Just. No ass stuff.”
Jared looked disappointed, but agreed.
Jensen climbed onto the bed and spread his arms and legs like a star. Jared strapped him down and then went to work on his dick, sucking and licking at it through the lace until the panties were sodden with both Jared’s saliva and Jensen’s pre-come.
“Gonna open my present now,” Jared said and Jensen lifted his head to watch as Jared slowly undid the bows in the side of the panties and slid them off him. He sucked Jensen down to the root, but held his hips so that Jensen couldn’t thrust, just had to take it exactly how Jared chose to give it to him. Because Jared was a teasing teaser who teased, he pulled off just as Jensen was about to come and then moved up the bed and straddled Jensen’s head, facing his feet.
“Can I?” he said.
“Yeah.”
Jensen tipped his head back and opened his mouth and Jared thrust straight down his throat, gag-reflex be damned. Jensen relaxed his throat and breathed through his nose every time Jared pulled back. He wished there was some way he could get some pressure on his dick, because being used like this, having his face so thoroughly fucked, left him almost delirious with pleasure. Jensen’s need for exactly this was something his regular hook-up Ryan had never understood. None of his hook-ups back home ever really had and even Dr Ferris had thought it was something pathological. Maybe it was. Maybe there was something wrong with him. Or maybe it was the rest of the world that was fucked up.
By the time Jared pulled out and came all over Jensen’s chest, Jensen was in a dazed stupor. When Jared leaned forward and took Jensen’s dick back in his mouth he came almost immediately, causing Jared to turn sideways and spit.
“Gonna pick up those test results on Monday,” Jared said. “I hope we can do this bare after that.”
Jensen bucked up and tried to throw Jared off. “Get your giant ass outta my face,” he said, “and get me untied.”
Jared climbed off him and Jensen looked expectantly at the cuffs around his wrists.
“Ask nicely,” Jared purred, “or I’ll leave you like this until I’m ready to use you again.”
Jensen glowered. “We need to have a conversation about safe words. I’m done playing and I need to pee. Now untie me.”
Jared’s eyes narrowed. “Fine,” he said, and undid the cuffs around Jensen’s wrists and ankles.
He turned away as Jensen got up and when Jensen got back from the bathroom, Jared had obviously dressed and left the bedroom.
Jensen put the red panties back on because Jared really seemed to like them and then he changed into one of his new outfits, a fabulous pair of light-colored ‘come fuck me’ jeans that really showed off his ass and a tight blue tee-shirt with the Armani logo on the front. He left his feet bare and ruffled up his hair.
Jared was in the kitchen, doing something at the counter with potatoes and tinfoil. He turned when Jensen entered the room and his jaw dropped.
“You look so fucking hot,” he said.
Jensen smiled and put his cigarettes and lighter down on the table before helping himself to a beer. “You want one?”
Jared said that he did, so Jensen opened one for him and handed it off.
“Thanks. I’m planning on firing up the grill. You like steak?”
Jensen sat down at the table and picked up his Marlboros and his lighter. “Dude, I’m from Texas.”
Jared nodded. “I am too, originally,” he said, getting an ashtray out from the cupboard under the sink and putting it on the table in front of Jensen. “Did you know that?”
Jensen shrugged and lit up. “Thought I heard a bit of a twang.”
He wasn’t sure if it was an invitation to talk about Jared’s past or not and decided not to prod, to leave it up to Jared to tell him anything he wanted to tell.
Jared turned back to the counter. “So I’m gonna do steak, jacket potatoes with bacon and sour cream and fire roasted cobs of corn for supper.”
“Okay,” Jensen said.
Jared’s back was rigid and he was focused on the jacket potatoes he was preparing.
“Look, I…” he sighed. “I’m a toppy bastard, ask anyone, but,” he stopped talking and then sighed again. “I’ve had a major crush on you since I was fourteen. And getting to have you, Pellegrino telling me I owned you,” he shook his head. “I mean, it seemed like you were really into it and…I’m good at reading people. And you like me being bossy. But. I guess I’ve been kind of an asshole, telling you that you couldn’t go anywhere, and…I guess…I’m trying to apologize.”
Jensen snorted and ashed his cigarette. “Well you’re doing a piss-poor job of it. Apologies usually have less self-justification and more I’m sorries.”
Jared turned around slowly and there were those beseeching puppy eyes again. God damn.
“I’m really sorry, Jensen,” he said earnestly. “I’ve been a selfish fucking asshole. Will you please forgive me?”
Jensen raised an eyebrow and took a long drag on his smoke. “You don’t get to tap my ass for one day and you fold like a cheap suit,” he shook his head and sighed.
Jared’s eyes narrowed, “Getting punched in the jewels sent a pretty strong message.”
He frowned. “Look, I know I’ve been an asshole, but I figured you were an asshole too, so it didn’t matter. Rich kid, out here slumming it for fun, stole from the Club, probably blew it all on hookers and blow. And then you’re back and you’re all tough and sexy and you owe me,” he paused and took a deep breath. “But you’re not an asshole. The girls like you, even Ruthie, and you try to help people who need it and, okay, maybe you’ve been playing me a bit, but you threw me on my ass this morning and I saw your bank-book; you’ve got a fuckton of money. You could’ve taken me down and left whenever you wanted to, but you didn’t. And maybe you were scared we’d come after you and kill you, but, like I said, I’m good at reading people, and I don’t think that’s the main reason you stayed.”
Jensen lit another cigarette off the butt of the first. “What can I say? You’re hot and you’re good in the sack. And I was bored. Plus, I dunno, you’re kind of…interesting. Complicated. It’s…fun.”
Jared met and held his eyes. “So you’re planning on sticking around?”
“Yeah.”
“Traffic light system work for you?”
Jensen frowned. “What? Are you talking safe words? Red means stop, green means go?”
Jared nodded.
“Sure. That works. So. You looked at my bank-book.”
Jared nodded. “We didn’t find it when we went through all your stuff, so you had it well hidden. I figured that if you didn’t want me to look at it, you would’ve just kept it hidden.”
Jensen inclined his head, because that was true enough. “I’m gonna go into a branch on Monday and get nine grand out for you. That’s under the anti-money laundering cap so no-one’ll look at it twice. I’ll get cash out for you every week until that thirty grand you owe Pellegrino is paid off and then I’ll start paying you back the seventy grand you already shelled out for me.”
“Buying your freedom, huh?”
“I think we established that I already have my freedom, Jay. I just don’t wanna be in debt to you.”
The sentence felt like it needed a grand exit, so Jensen went and hid in the bathroom for a little while.
When he finally went back to the kitchen, Jared asked him to help take everything out to the grill, and they sat outside with the dogs, sipping on their beers and watching the flames.
Jared kept side-eyeing Jensen and eventually Jensen just told him to spit it out.
“You can tell me to fuck off,” Jared said, “because it ain’t really my business, but you said you’d never really had much of a job outside of hustling pool and playing poker, and I know you put most of the money you stole from us into that account, but there’s a fuck-ton of money in there. So you must’ve had a fucking big win.”
Jensen rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Yeah. Not really.”
When Jensen had left home at eighteen to go to college, his parents had bought a two bedroom apartment for him, only several blocks from Stanford University. The moment the settlement went through, Jensen packed his things into his car and moved, several months before college was even due to start. He told his parents he needed time to get properly set up. He furnished the place on his parents’ dime and explored the local area. Palo Alto was a college town. It was full of people with money and college kids. It was boring as fuck.
West Hollywood, on the other hand, was fun and Jensen made sure to get down there on a regular basis. He found the pool halls. The backroom poker games. He lost every type of virginity that he still had and he got his first tattoo. He discovered cocaine.
He did try to stick around and attend classes when college started up, but it was boring. Jensen knew that he was never going to be happy following the path that his father had laid out for him. After a spectacular weekend spent drinking Tequila, snorting coke, having a lot of sex, and pointedly doing no work on the assignment that was due to be turned in on Monday, Jensen decided to run away.
He sublet his apartment to some rich kid looking to move off-campus and opened a bank account for the money to be transferred into each month. He sold his car to a shady used car dealer and put the money from that into his new bank account too. And then he moved to West Hollywood and created Dean Winchester, naming himself after the first rifle he ever owned and his favorite movie star, James Dean.
Dean Winchester squatted with six others in a rundown warehouse just off Santa Monica Boulevard. He didn’t have rich parents. He hustled pool, gambled, fucked around with guys who could afford to buy him things, and eventually he got a job bussing tables at a bar, where he met Chris Heyerdahl, sergeant-at-arms for HellSpawn MC. Soon after, he was able to afford to move into a shitty apartment in an area of West Hollywood that was mostly public housing.
Jensen’s goal was to support himself, to prove to himself that he could live just fine without his parents’ money. For the most part, he succeeded.
The spending money that his parents put into the bank account that they’d set up for him, he transferred regularly into his secret bank account and, along with the monthly rent from the guy who was subletting, the balance built steadily. Jensen rarely touched it.
Of course, eventually, his parents realized that he wasn’t living in the house they’d bought for him and wasn’t attending his classes at college, and the shit hit the fan. Jensen just dumped the phone and credit cards that his parents paid for and went completely off-the-grid. By that time, he was a HellSpawn prospect, HeyDay’s apprentice and he was doing very well for himself as Dean Winchester.
But he still had a safety net of nearly fifty grand in the bank and beneath that safety net was another one; the option to run home if things got too hard.
Which is exactly what he did.
Jensen felt a little bit embarrassed, telling Jared about the years he’d spent playing at being a street kid, because Jared actually had been one; no safety net for him.
For his part, Jared just seemed to find Jensen’s story entertaining.
“So what happened when you went back home?” he asked, shovelling the last mouthful of steak into his mouth. “Were they pissed? Did you have to grovel?”
Jensen went and dumped his plate in the sink and then got the whiskey and two glasses out of the cupboard.
“I stopped about a mile away from the house,” he said as he poured two generous serves of Jack Daniels, “and snorted three lines of coke. By the time I got home, I was high as a fucking kite and I skidded off my bike in the driveway. Lucia brought me inside. I was a fucking mess,” Jensen shook his head and took a long swallow of whiskey, relishing the burn. “My parents went with the whole ‘Jensen fell in with a bad crowd in California and got addicted to cocaine’ narrative. Their friends understood that. Rich kids developing coke habits ain’t exactly unheard of. So they shipped me off to a rehab facility in Switzerland.”
“Which is why Pellegrino couldn’t find you,” Jared said thoughtfully. “And your fifty odd grand just sat in your bank account earning interest.”
Jensen nodded. “And when I got out, I put some of the stolen money in it too. My parents barred me from getting cash advances on my Amex, but they didn’t care if I bought stuff. So I was generous with friends. Bought them expensive art and jewellery. And sometimes, I bought expensive art and jewellery and then sold it and put the cash in my account. And sometimes I sold…” Jensen broke off suddenly.
“Sold what?”
“Nothing.”
“Sold what, Jensen? Drugs? Were you dealing?”
Jensen shook his head. “I’m not stupid enough to do that. I know me. Someone gave me a stash to sell, I’d end up using it all. I keep away from that shit as much as I can.”
“So what then? Your ass? Were you standing on street corners?”
Jensen rolled his eyes and lit a cigarette. “Paintings, okay? I sold paintings.”
Jared frowned. “You already said that you bought and sold art.”
Jensen shook his head again. “My paintings. Paintings that I did.”
Jared raised his eyebrows. “You’re an artist?”
Jensen shrugged. “Wouldn’t go that far. I just…paint stuff.”
He swallowed down the rest of his whiskey and then poured himself another glass. He was supposed to be playing in another pool tournament tonight, but the trip down memory lane had left him feeling unsettled and besides, Jared was in a good mood and being friendly and charming and good company and Jensen was starting to feel like he was in an actual real relationship.
Over the course of the evening Jensen had far too much to drink and ended up letting Jared fuck him, because Jared had an awesome dick and Jensen really liked it being inside of him. He especially liked it when Jared held his wrists and pinned him face down against the bed. And he liked it even more when Jared pulled almost out, so that Jensen’s ass was pried wide open on the head of Jared’s fat dick, and then held himself right there until Jensen begged brokenly to be fucked. When Jared finally fucked in, hard and deep, Jensen almost spontaneously combusted, and fuck it all, if they were going to keep fucking like bunnies he’d just have to start doing Kegels exercises, because this? This was too good to go without.
The next day Jared went out mid-morning, mumbling something about the club and business and Jensen decided he didn’t want to know, what with all the tom-toms pounding inside his skull, so he took a couple of Tylenol and went back to sleep.
By the time he finally surfaced it was almost three in the afternoon. He had coffee and a cigarette, some toast and then a shower.
Jared still wasn’t back so Jensen decided to head down to the pool hall. He figured that should be okay, given their discussions yesterday, but even so he sent Jared a quick text letting the biker know where he’d be.
Steve was playing a doubles game at one of the outer tables when Jensen arrived, so he strolled across to watch. Strolled with a slight hitch to his gait and damn if he couldn’t feel Steve assessing him from across the room.
Steve finished clearing the table and shook hands with his partner and his opponents and then turned and offered his hand to Jensen.
“You doin’ all right, son?”
“I’m good. You?”
“Oh, you know,” Steve smiled easily. “Gettin’ old. Still it’s better than the alternative, I guess. Where’s your entourage?”
“Just me today.”
Steve pursed his lips and looked like he wanted to pursue that, but thankfully he didn’t, simply nodded to the cue rack and challenged Jensen to a game.
“We missed you yesterday,” Steve said as he watched Jensen break. “I thought you were going to play in last night’s tournament.”
Jensen admitted that he was planning on it, but that he and Jared had gotten distracted with other things. He rubbed at the back of his neck and looked up coyly from beneath his eyelashes and Steve laughed outright.
“I see how it is,” he said. “It wasn’t too much fightin’ gave you that limp, it was too much lovin’.”
Just for that, Jensen made the eight on the break.
Steve shook his head. “Damn, kid,” he said. “You’re really somethin’ else.”
--
It was close to midnight when Jensen got home, flushed with the thrill of his tournament win and one too many celebratory drinks. He found Jared sitting in the living room drinking whiskey by the light of the Discovery channel.
Jensen threw the pile of fifties he’d just won down on the coffee table in front of Jared.
“Won again,” he said. “Another thousand to go to Pellegrino.”
Jared looked up at him from beneath his bangs and his eyes were like coal.
“I got home,” he said. “And you weren’t here.”
Jensen sat down on the far end of the sofa and eyed Jared cautiously. “I texted you,” he said. “I told you where I was.”
Jared’s expression was dark and unfathomable. “At four. It’s midnight now.”
“You could have come down.”
Jared slammed his tumbler down on the coffee table and it took more effort than Jensen would have liked to keep from flinching.
“I didn’t want your buddy to start whispering in your ear about how I was stalking you,” Jared filled up his tumbler and took a long swallow. “He’s a cop, you know. Did you know that? Detective Steven Williams, Gang and Narcotics Division.”
“No,” Jensen said. “I didn’t know that.”
Jared snorted. “Liar. You’re prob’ly his informant. Gonna rat me out.”
“I played pool with the guy a couple times. We didn’t swap life stories. I didn’t know he was a cop. And he probably doesn’t even know who you are.”
Jared shook his head. “He knows. He’s got a rep. Good at his job. Incorruptible. Maybe you just fell in his lap, but he’s gonna try to use you.”
He threw back the rest of his whiskey and reached for the bottle again.
“The Beast says I should put you in your place. Show you what happens to people who rat us out.”
Jensen knew exactly what happened to people who ratted out HellSpawn. He’d been HeyDay’s apprentice, after all. But looking at Jared, he didn’t think he was about to get an ass kicking. And not just because Jared looked like he’d have trouble walking a straight line right now. Jensen scooted closer to the biker and put a hand on his thigh. “You know I won’t ever rat you out, right?”
Jared scoffed. “Don’t see why you wouldn’t. It’d get you out from under me.”
Jensen couldn’t help grinning. “Yeah? Well maybe I like being under you,” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively and was rewarded with a small smile.
Jared sat back with a fresh glass of whiskey and sighed. “Had a shitty day, Jen. Fucking ATF douchebags. And then got the news about De-tec-tive Williams. And Pellegrino wants to see bruises again. And then you didn’t come home an’ you didn’t come home and I thought…thought…”
Jared was actually pouting and Jensen almost laughed.
“Well I’m here now,” he said instead. “You wanna hit the sack? You can mark me up a little. Keep The Beast happy.”
“Okay,” Jared plonked his half-drunk glass of whiskey down on the coffee table and stood up, stretching so that his tee-shirt rode up and exposed his flat abs and snail trail. Jensen licked his lips. Jared grinned down at him and then reached out a hand and hauled Jensen to his feet.
“I gotta tell you, Jen,” Jared enunciated carefully, “that I am very, very, very drunk right now. Prob’ly got a whiskey dick coz of all the whiskey I drank.”
Jensen hooked an arm around the biker and began herding him toward the bedroom.
“So we prob’ly can’t fuck,” Jared said as he staggered forward. “But I could spank you again. And then jerk you off. And then we can cuddle. I like cuddling.”
Drunk Jared was even more of an octopus than regular Jared and once they were both naked, Jensen allowed the biker to pull him over his lap and spank his ass. Even drunk, Jared seemed to enjoy doing it. Jensen-didn’t. Not really. He didn’t totally hate it; some perverse part of him got off on being forced to submit, but it seemed he needed to be already horny and turned on when he got spanked in order to properly enjoy it himself. Afterwards, Jared held him in his arms and jerked him off slowly while kissing his wet cheek and licking and biting at his neck and jaw. That part definitely didn’t suck.
Once Jensen had cleaned up, Jared insisted on cuddling him again.
“So fuckin’ hot,” he murmured in Jensen’s ear. “JD used to get sick of me goin’ on about how hot you were. But you’re hot like the sun,” he nuzzled at Jensen’s throat.
“How’d you end up with JD anyway?” Jensen asked, just to change the subject really.
He soon wished he hadn’t.
Jared’s childhood had sucked out loud. His mom had been a junkie and a sex worker. He’d been an accident. And his mom had lost and regained custody of him several times during his childhood. She’d moved them around a lot, always trying to keep one step ahead of Child Services. Not because she cared. Jared was very clear on that point. Because he was a meal ticket. Because there was always a good chance that if a dealer didn’t want her in trade for the fix she needed, he’d be happy to take Jared in trade instead.
Jensen listened to Jared’s dispassionate tale of abuse and neglect with growing horror and he was spitefully pleased when Jared told him that his mom had died of a drug overdose when he was thirteen. Of course, that merely left him to the tender mercies of a foster father with a large gambling debt and no qualms about using Jared to pay it off; which went a long way toward explaining why Jared had taken such vicious joy in personally garrotting bookie Sterling Brown.
MorningStar Motors was just around the corner from where Jared lived with his last foster family and he used to sneak in to look at the cars and the bikes and watch the mechanics work. Sterling Brown had to pay dues to HellSpawn in order to operate on their turf and somehow or other, JD found out what was going on with Jared and his foster father’s debt.
“JD wanted to kill Sterling back then,” Jared said, in the flat tone he’d been using since he began to talk about his childhood. “But The Beast said he was too valuable. He got a pretty severe beating, though, and my foster father disappeared. I just kind of…went home with JD and nobody seemed to care. I was fourteen years old and I dropped out of school and got an apprenticeship at MorningStar Motors. JD, he was the best dad I ever had. Didn’t hit me, never tried to fuck me. He was so kind and patient and,” Jared wiped at his face. “I was a fucking mess, Jen. But he taught me about real love and loyalty and gave me something to live for. And then he got killed. And we never even figured out who did it.”
Jensen wiggled on his sore ass and then peered up at Jared. “I probably shouldn’t say anything,” he said, “but…you do know that doesn’t track, right? Pellegrino’s VP got murdered. He should’ve moved Heaven and Hell to sort out who did it, not just let it drop.”
Jared looked at him with sad, wide eyes. “HeyDay said that Pellegrino thought he got capped by the ATF, that there was nothing we could do without risking the club and that we should just let it go.”
“Do you believe that?” Jensen asked.
Jared shrugged. And then passed out.
<
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Back to MasterPost
Jensen woke up to find Jared pushing his legs apart and decided to implement Operation Drama Queen. He lifted his head from the pillow, twisted his torso and punched Jared squarely in the balls.
Jared yelled and threw himself sideways which caused him to fall off the bed. He rolled on the floor clutching his groin and moaning.
“Fuck, Jen!”
“No,” Jensen said, turning to face Jared. “There will be no fucking Jen for a few days. My ass needs a rest, unless you want me to start needing diapers. And if that’s one of your kinks, I’ll shoot you on principle.”
Jared managed to sit up. He pouted at Jensen and did his very best lost puppy expression.
“Not gonna work, Jare. This ass is closed for business.”
“Fine,” Jared grumbled. “I’ll settle for a blow job.”
If the way Jared’s face suddenly paled was any indication, Jensen’s expression was suitably thunderous.
“You’ll settle for a blow job?” he said icily. “My blow jobs are five fucking star blow jobs! They are not something you settle for. They are something you praise God on a daily fucking basis that you are lucky enough to be getting! And if you don’t appreciate them, maybe you’ll need to settle for a week of me sleeping in the spare room!”
“I do appreciate them, I do!” Jared said earnestly, scrambling up onto his knees and crawling forward so that his face was only inches from Jensen’s.
“Good,” Jensen smiled at him warmly. “Now go and get ready for work. Some of us are trying to sleep.
Jared’s face fell. “But…blow job?”
Jensen scowled at him. “It’s six o’clock in the Goddamn morning. If you’re horny, jerk off in the shower like a normal person. Now go away,” Jensen waved a hand at him. “I need my beauty sleep.”
He closed his eyes and pretended to have settled back into sleep. In reality every cell of his being was tensed and ready and all of his senses were straining to detect Jared’s next move.
Jared sighed. “Fine,” he said. “Fucking drama queen.”
Jensen heard the stomp of footsteps and then the hiss of the shower running and then he relaxed slightly.
He rolled onto his back, folded his arms beneath his head and stared up at the ceiling. Even though he himself had named this play ‘Operation Drama Queen’, the fact that Jared actually thought he was a drama queen for refusing to have sex was pissing him off. A person should always have autonomy over their own body. Jensen was all up for playing around with power exchanges and consent. The operative words being playing around. Jared though, seemed to legitimately believe that he was entitled to do whatever he wanted to Jensen and Jensen had been having too much fun with the admittedly awesome sex to set him straight on that.
If he were honest with himself, he’d also been a little worried that Jared might hand him over to Pellegrino to get shot if he wasn’t compliant, but he no longer believed that Jared would do that. Rachel and Ruthie were right. Jared had a giant crush on him. He wanted Jensen to stick around. And that gave Jensen some power. Looking at their… relationship, for want of a better word…through Steve’s eyes yesterday (the way Steve had looked at him sadly when he’d been expected to hand over his winnings to Jared) had been the push Jensen needed to realize that he had to set Jared straight, and soon.
The shower stopped and Jensen rolled back onto his stomach, because it was easier to hide his face like that.
Soon there was more foot stomping and the noise of drawers and cupboards being thrown open and slammed shut. Jensen continued to feign sleep. And he snored obnoxiously loudly to let Jared know that he was sleeping just fine through all his noise.
After Jared had gone, Jensen went back to sleep for real and woke up again a little after nine am.
It was Saturday morning and Jared had said that he would be back from work at around lunchtime. Jensen sat up, lit a cigarette and planned his day. And then he showered, dressed, made himself breakfast and called Chris for a chat.
Around eleven o’clock, he put the next stage of Operation Drama Queen into play. He dialled Jared’s cell phone number. Repeatedly. Until Jared answered.
“What’s wrong?” Jared said when he picked up.
“I’m bored,” Jensen whined.
“I’m working, Jensen.”
“I know. And you won’t let me go anywhere without you or an official escort, so I’m stuck in your tiny apartment with nothing to do!”
Jensen wanted to see how far he could push things. Would Jared ditch work and come home? Would he give Jensen permission to go out and do something fun by himself?
“Take the dogs for a walk,” Jared said, and hung up on him.
Well fuck. That was like being assigned chores.
Jensen rang Jared back, but the call went straight through to voicemail.
Jensen thought about going out anyway, but Jared had told him in no uncertain terms that if he went out without permission he wouldn’t like the consequences. Jensen’s traitorous dick twitched as he remembered the last punishment Jared had dished out to him. Truthfully, he’d kind of enjoyed it, but he wasn’t really keen to get into the kinky stuff with Jared again until they’d gotten some safe words in place.
Jensen looked out the window at the dogs. They both had sad, pleading eyes just like their daddy. Jensen sighed.
“You’re lucky I’m bored,” he told them as he got their leads out.
The dogs yipped and danced and nearly knocked him over in their enthusiasm.
Not only did they have eyes like their daddy, they also didn’t care much for the word ‘no’-just like their daddy. Jensen was dragged into trashcans and down dirty alleys. He was jerked down the street after cats and other dogs. After the third time Harley tried to drag him into oncoming traffic-chasing God knows what-Jensen decided to head for home. So of course, Sadie decided she needed to take a crap; right on some old woman’s front lawn.
“You take that shit with you, young man,” the woman yelled, coming out onto her front stoop and waving a walking stick at him. “Where’s your poop-scoop? Don’t you leave that shit on my lawn!”
Jensen fled.
When he got back to Jared’s apartment, Jared was already home.
“Why didn’t you take the poop-scoop?” he asked when Jensen walked in.
Jensen scowled. “Well if you’d told me I needed to take it instead of hanging up on me, I would’ve. I got yelled at. By a really angry old black woman. It’s not funny, Jared.” Jensen dumped the dogs’ leads and let them go and knock Jared over with their excitement and enthusiasm.
“It’s a little funny,” Jared said, as he hugged the mutts and then wrangled them into the back yard with a skill that Jensen had yet to develop.
“You need to take me shopping,” Jensen said once Jared was back inside.
Jared raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
Jensen stalked right up to Jared and got in his face. “I have four outfits, Jared. Four. And you broke the button on my best jeans and your filthy mutts knocked over a bunch of trash cans and I got disgusting smelly garbage all over these jeans. I need more clothes.”
Jared raised an eyebrow. “Wash those jeans. Sew the button back on the other ones.”
Jensen’s mouth fell open. “I don’t sew! And I can’t survive with only four outfits.”
“Sure you can,” Jared said easily.
Jensen produced an epic bitchface. “You bought out my debt because you think I’m a hot piece of ass. And I am,” Jensen stripped off his leather jacket and ran his hands seductively over his torso. Jared licked his lips. “But it takes effort to look this good,” Jensen said, prowling with sensual intent toward Jared. “I need more clothes. And some decent hair product.”
Jared swallowed hard. He looked hungrily at Jensen’s nipples, visible through his tight white tee-shirt and then made a very obvious effort to look away.
When he looked back at Jensen, the heat in his eyes was banked and his lips were a thin flat line. “I’m not rich, Jen,” he said tightly, his shoulders rigid with tension. “Unlike you I’ve never had a billionaire Daddy to give me a Black Amex. I’ve had to work real fucking hard for every cent I’ve ever earned. And you know what I did with my savings, Jen? I gave every cent I had to The Beast so that he wouldn’t put a bullet in your brain. And even then, it wasn’t enough. I still owe him thirty grand. Which is why I had to give him the prize money you won. So don’t start asking me to buy you shit. I ain’t your sugar Daddy and you ain’t my kept boy.”
It hadn’t actually occurred to Jensen to wonder how Jared had managed to buy out his debt. He had, after all, stolen one hundred thousand dollars from Pellegrino, and Jensen might have been guilty as charged on the billionaire Daddy front, but he was aware that was a lot of money. And Jared was younger than he was, and a foster kid. And okay, sure, he was also the VP of an outlaw bikers’ club and no doubt had some ill-gotten gains to supplement his regular income, but still, one hundred grand was a lot of money.
Jensen dropped the attempt at seductive manipulation immediately.
“Okay,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Firstly, thank you. I don’t think I said that yet. I appreciate the lack of bullet in my brain. Secondly, the way you’ve been demanding sex, you can see what I’d be a little confused on the whole ‘kept boy’ issue. And thirdly, I have money. I don’t actually need yours. In fact, I could give you the thirty grand you still owe Pellegrino if you want.”
Jared shook his head. “Your daddy cut off all your credit cards, remember?”
Jensen smirked. “Yeah. But you didn’t seriously think I wasn’t prepared for that, did you? I’ve got my own bank account that my parents know nothing about.”
Jared sat down on the arm of the sofa and folded his arms across his chest. “Is that where you put the money you stole?”
Jensen crossed to sit in the armchair opposite Jared. “Yeah. Not all of it. I put most of it in there, a bit at a time over a few years so I wouldn’t get tripped up by the anti-money laundering laws in the Patriot Act. And some of it I gave to people.”
“People?” Jared raised an eyebrow.
Jensen got out his cigarettes and lit up. “Yeah. People.”
“Lovers?” Jared said teasingly.
Jensen drew back and then shook his head.
“Then who? C’mon Jen. You look embarrassed. Who’d you give it do? Nuns? Hookers? Who?”
Jensen rolled his eyes. “The household staff, if you must know.”
Jared’s eyes widened. “Household staff.” he echoed.
Jensen could feel his cheeks flushing. “Kind of comes with the whole ‘billionaire’ territory. Only my parents are assholes, so they hire illegal immigrants and underpay them and treat them like shit, and still expect them to be grateful. I just…paid out some Christmas bonuses to try and make things a bit fairer.”
Jared burst out laughing. “Fuck me,” he said. “You’re like Robin Hood! Steal from the rich, give to the poor.”
“Yeah, fuck you,” Jensen said. “I’d look good in tights and a tunic.”
Jared sniggered. “I dunno…those legs are pretty bowed.”
Jensen took a final drag on his smoke and then butted it out in the over-flowing and ever present ashtray.
“So are we going shopping?”
Jared’s expression became pained. “Yeah. It’s not really my thing. But you can go.”
“Really? But you said I couldn’t go out of your apartment without you or an escort.”
Jared’s look was suddenly sharp. “And you’re a hardass with a reputation for not doing what he’s told, so why didn’t you just say fuck that I’m outta here?”
Jensen chewed at his lip. “Maybe I thought that if I gave you too much shit you might hand me back to Pellegrino for that bullet,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “And maybe I kind of get off on you being bossy.”
“Oh, really?” Jared’s smile was smug. “In that case, there’s something I want you to do.”
Jensen narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“I want you to buy yourself a pair of red, lacy panties. And I want you to change into them while you’re out and wear them home.”
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me?”
“No” Jared stood up and close the gap between them with a step. He leaned forward, one hand cupping the back of Jensen’s head, the other cupping his crotch. “You were right before. I’m very attracted to your hot ass and your gorgeous, sexy dick.”
Jared drew his thumb across the head of Jensen’s rapidly chubbing dick and Jensen couldn’t help spreading his legs a little wider.
Jared smiled knowingly. “Just think,” he said, “how much hotter and sexier your ass and your dick and your balls are gonna look when they’re being held tight by pretty lacy panties.”
Jensen pushed up against Jared’s hand; he couldn’t help himself. “Lace is scratchy,” he said, a little breathlessly, wrinkling his nose.
Jared smiled wolfishly. “Don’t pretend you’re not gonna get off on that. You like things a little rough,” his grip on Jensen’s hair tightened and he stroked Jensen in earnest, until Jensen was sure he was only seconds away from coming in his pants. And then he gripped Jensen’s ball sac and twisted hard.
“Ow!” Jensen yelled, trying to pull away. “You fucker. That hurt.”
“Are you gonna buy yourself some pretty red panties for me, Jen?”
Jensen scowled. “What happens if I refuse?”
“Well,” Jared let go of him and Jensen adjusted himself subtly. His dick had gone mostly soft and his balls were throbbing with pain. “If you refuse I’ll just have to find some other way of making your ass red.”
Jensen rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll buy and wear panties for you. Happy now?”
Jared grinned. “Ecstatic.” He stretched and Jensen watched as his Henley rode up exposing his flat, toned stomach. “I’m gonna go take a shower; get the smell of motor oil off me. I’ll see you and your sexy panties later.”
Once Jared had disappeared into the shower, Jensen went and retrieved his duffel bag. He changed into clean jeans and then took out the hard plastic liner from the bottom of the duffel and pried open the slit that he’d made in it. He retrieved his debit card, bank-book and passport from inside the liner, and then he put the bank-book and passport on the nightstand where Jared would see it. He put the debit card in his wallet.
And then he went and called a cab to take him to Rodeo Drive.
--
To be honest, Jensen wasn’t really a huge fan of shopping. But he did like to look good and unfortunately, that meant shopping.
It was a little before five when Jensen got home and he was laden with bags, mostly from Armani, but a few from Versace as well. And stuffed inside one of the Armani bags was a tiny bag from Agent Provocateur, which currently contained his boxers.
Jared looked up from the sofa and shook his head at all the bags. Jensen smiled sunnily and went and dumped everything on the bed.
“Show me,” Jared said and Jensen nearly leapt out of his skin.
“Way to give a guy a heart attack,” he said. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
“Show me,” Jared repeated. “I wanna see your panties.”
Jensen rolled his eyes and muttered freak under his breath, but he dutifully undid his jeans and peeled them down just enough to reveal the side-tied, delicately trimmed lace panties. They had a floral pattern on open net tulle and were surprisingly soft. They looked good on him, if he did say so himself, even if the head of his very hard dick was peeping out of the top of them.
“Fuck,” Jared swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbling. “Strip. Everything off except the panties.”
What Jensen actually wanted right now was to sit down, put his feet up and have a beer and a cigarette; he’d been traipsing from store to store on Rodeo Drive for several hours and his feet were killing him. On the other hand, getting mostly naked did seem to hold the promise of an orgasm in the very near future and his dick was definitely on board with that idea. Besides, once he’d stripped, Jensen figured he’d end up horizontal pretty quickly so he moved his shopping bags to the floor and then got undressed.
Once Jensen was standing beside the bed wearing nothing but the skimpy pair of red lacy panties, Jared twirled his finger to indicate that Jensen should turn around. He swore with quiet reverence as he palmed Jensen’s ass, and then he pressed his dick against Jensen’s crack before reaching around to rub his hand over Jensen’s lace-clad dick.
“Can I tie you to the bed?” Jared whispered in his ear.
Jensen nodded. “Yeah. Just. No ass stuff.”
Jared looked disappointed, but agreed.
Jensen climbed onto the bed and spread his arms and legs like a star. Jared strapped him down and then went to work on his dick, sucking and licking at it through the lace until the panties were sodden with both Jared’s saliva and Jensen’s pre-come.
“Gonna open my present now,” Jared said and Jensen lifted his head to watch as Jared slowly undid the bows in the side of the panties and slid them off him. He sucked Jensen down to the root, but held his hips so that Jensen couldn’t thrust, just had to take it exactly how Jared chose to give it to him. Because Jared was a teasing teaser who teased, he pulled off just as Jensen was about to come and then moved up the bed and straddled Jensen’s head, facing his feet.
“Can I?” he said.
“Yeah.”
Jensen tipped his head back and opened his mouth and Jared thrust straight down his throat, gag-reflex be damned. Jensen relaxed his throat and breathed through his nose every time Jared pulled back. He wished there was some way he could get some pressure on his dick, because being used like this, having his face so thoroughly fucked, left him almost delirious with pleasure. Jensen’s need for exactly this was something his regular hook-up Ryan had never understood. None of his hook-ups back home ever really had and even Dr Ferris had thought it was something pathological. Maybe it was. Maybe there was something wrong with him. Or maybe it was the rest of the world that was fucked up.
By the time Jared pulled out and came all over Jensen’s chest, Jensen was in a dazed stupor. When Jared leaned forward and took Jensen’s dick back in his mouth he came almost immediately, causing Jared to turn sideways and spit.
“Gonna pick up those test results on Monday,” Jared said. “I hope we can do this bare after that.”
Jensen bucked up and tried to throw Jared off. “Get your giant ass outta my face,” he said, “and get me untied.”
Jared climbed off him and Jensen looked expectantly at the cuffs around his wrists.
“Ask nicely,” Jared purred, “or I’ll leave you like this until I’m ready to use you again.”
Jensen glowered. “We need to have a conversation about safe words. I’m done playing and I need to pee. Now untie me.”
Jared’s eyes narrowed. “Fine,” he said, and undid the cuffs around Jensen’s wrists and ankles.
He turned away as Jensen got up and when Jensen got back from the bathroom, Jared had obviously dressed and left the bedroom.
Jensen put the red panties back on because Jared really seemed to like them and then he changed into one of his new outfits, a fabulous pair of light-colored ‘come fuck me’ jeans that really showed off his ass and a tight blue tee-shirt with the Armani logo on the front. He left his feet bare and ruffled up his hair.
Jared was in the kitchen, doing something at the counter with potatoes and tinfoil. He turned when Jensen entered the room and his jaw dropped.
“You look so fucking hot,” he said.
Jensen smiled and put his cigarettes and lighter down on the table before helping himself to a beer. “You want one?”
Jared said that he did, so Jensen opened one for him and handed it off.
“Thanks. I’m planning on firing up the grill. You like steak?”
Jensen sat down at the table and picked up his Marlboros and his lighter. “Dude, I’m from Texas.”
Jared nodded. “I am too, originally,” he said, getting an ashtray out from the cupboard under the sink and putting it on the table in front of Jensen. “Did you know that?”
Jensen shrugged and lit up. “Thought I heard a bit of a twang.”
He wasn’t sure if it was an invitation to talk about Jared’s past or not and decided not to prod, to leave it up to Jared to tell him anything he wanted to tell.
Jared turned back to the counter. “So I’m gonna do steak, jacket potatoes with bacon and sour cream and fire roasted cobs of corn for supper.”
“Okay,” Jensen said.
Jared’s back was rigid and he was focused on the jacket potatoes he was preparing.
“Look, I…” he sighed. “I’m a toppy bastard, ask anyone, but,” he stopped talking and then sighed again. “I’ve had a major crush on you since I was fourteen. And getting to have you, Pellegrino telling me I owned you,” he shook his head. “I mean, it seemed like you were really into it and…I’m good at reading people. And you like me being bossy. But. I guess I’ve been kind of an asshole, telling you that you couldn’t go anywhere, and…I guess…I’m trying to apologize.”
Jensen snorted and ashed his cigarette. “Well you’re doing a piss-poor job of it. Apologies usually have less self-justification and more I’m sorries.”
Jared turned around slowly and there were those beseeching puppy eyes again. God damn.
“I’m really sorry, Jensen,” he said earnestly. “I’ve been a selfish fucking asshole. Will you please forgive me?”
Jensen raised an eyebrow and took a long drag on his smoke. “You don’t get to tap my ass for one day and you fold like a cheap suit,” he shook his head and sighed.
Jared’s eyes narrowed, “Getting punched in the jewels sent a pretty strong message.”
He frowned. “Look, I know I’ve been an asshole, but I figured you were an asshole too, so it didn’t matter. Rich kid, out here slumming it for fun, stole from the Club, probably blew it all on hookers and blow. And then you’re back and you’re all tough and sexy and you owe me,” he paused and took a deep breath. “But you’re not an asshole. The girls like you, even Ruthie, and you try to help people who need it and, okay, maybe you’ve been playing me a bit, but you threw me on my ass this morning and I saw your bank-book; you’ve got a fuckton of money. You could’ve taken me down and left whenever you wanted to, but you didn’t. And maybe you were scared we’d come after you and kill you, but, like I said, I’m good at reading people, and I don’t think that’s the main reason you stayed.”
Jensen lit another cigarette off the butt of the first. “What can I say? You’re hot and you’re good in the sack. And I was bored. Plus, I dunno, you’re kind of…interesting. Complicated. It’s…fun.”
Jared met and held his eyes. “So you’re planning on sticking around?”
“Yeah.”
“Traffic light system work for you?”
Jensen frowned. “What? Are you talking safe words? Red means stop, green means go?”
Jared nodded.
“Sure. That works. So. You looked at my bank-book.”
Jared nodded. “We didn’t find it when we went through all your stuff, so you had it well hidden. I figured that if you didn’t want me to look at it, you would’ve just kept it hidden.”
Jensen inclined his head, because that was true enough. “I’m gonna go into a branch on Monday and get nine grand out for you. That’s under the anti-money laundering cap so no-one’ll look at it twice. I’ll get cash out for you every week until that thirty grand you owe Pellegrino is paid off and then I’ll start paying you back the seventy grand you already shelled out for me.”
“Buying your freedom, huh?”
“I think we established that I already have my freedom, Jay. I just don’t wanna be in debt to you.”
The sentence felt like it needed a grand exit, so Jensen went and hid in the bathroom for a little while.
When he finally went back to the kitchen, Jared asked him to help take everything out to the grill, and they sat outside with the dogs, sipping on their beers and watching the flames.
Jared kept side-eyeing Jensen and eventually Jensen just told him to spit it out.
“You can tell me to fuck off,” Jared said, “because it ain’t really my business, but you said you’d never really had much of a job outside of hustling pool and playing poker, and I know you put most of the money you stole from us into that account, but there’s a fuck-ton of money in there. So you must’ve had a fucking big win.”
Jensen rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Yeah. Not really.”
When Jensen had left home at eighteen to go to college, his parents had bought a two bedroom apartment for him, only several blocks from Stanford University. The moment the settlement went through, Jensen packed his things into his car and moved, several months before college was even due to start. He told his parents he needed time to get properly set up. He furnished the place on his parents’ dime and explored the local area. Palo Alto was a college town. It was full of people with money and college kids. It was boring as fuck.
West Hollywood, on the other hand, was fun and Jensen made sure to get down there on a regular basis. He found the pool halls. The backroom poker games. He lost every type of virginity that he still had and he got his first tattoo. He discovered cocaine.
He did try to stick around and attend classes when college started up, but it was boring. Jensen knew that he was never going to be happy following the path that his father had laid out for him. After a spectacular weekend spent drinking Tequila, snorting coke, having a lot of sex, and pointedly doing no work on the assignment that was due to be turned in on Monday, Jensen decided to run away.
He sublet his apartment to some rich kid looking to move off-campus and opened a bank account for the money to be transferred into each month. He sold his car to a shady used car dealer and put the money from that into his new bank account too. And then he moved to West Hollywood and created Dean Winchester, naming himself after the first rifle he ever owned and his favorite movie star, James Dean.
Dean Winchester squatted with six others in a rundown warehouse just off Santa Monica Boulevard. He didn’t have rich parents. He hustled pool, gambled, fucked around with guys who could afford to buy him things, and eventually he got a job bussing tables at a bar, where he met Chris Heyerdahl, sergeant-at-arms for HellSpawn MC. Soon after, he was able to afford to move into a shitty apartment in an area of West Hollywood that was mostly public housing.
Jensen’s goal was to support himself, to prove to himself that he could live just fine without his parents’ money. For the most part, he succeeded.
The spending money that his parents put into the bank account that they’d set up for him, he transferred regularly into his secret bank account and, along with the monthly rent from the guy who was subletting, the balance built steadily. Jensen rarely touched it.
Of course, eventually, his parents realized that he wasn’t living in the house they’d bought for him and wasn’t attending his classes at college, and the shit hit the fan. Jensen just dumped the phone and credit cards that his parents paid for and went completely off-the-grid. By that time, he was a HellSpawn prospect, HeyDay’s apprentice and he was doing very well for himself as Dean Winchester.
But he still had a safety net of nearly fifty grand in the bank and beneath that safety net was another one; the option to run home if things got too hard.
Which is exactly what he did.
Jensen felt a little bit embarrassed, telling Jared about the years he’d spent playing at being a street kid, because Jared actually had been one; no safety net for him.
For his part, Jared just seemed to find Jensen’s story entertaining.
“So what happened when you went back home?” he asked, shovelling the last mouthful of steak into his mouth. “Were they pissed? Did you have to grovel?”
Jensen went and dumped his plate in the sink and then got the whiskey and two glasses out of the cupboard.
“I stopped about a mile away from the house,” he said as he poured two generous serves of Jack Daniels, “and snorted three lines of coke. By the time I got home, I was high as a fucking kite and I skidded off my bike in the driveway. Lucia brought me inside. I was a fucking mess,” Jensen shook his head and took a long swallow of whiskey, relishing the burn. “My parents went with the whole ‘Jensen fell in with a bad crowd in California and got addicted to cocaine’ narrative. Their friends understood that. Rich kids developing coke habits ain’t exactly unheard of. So they shipped me off to a rehab facility in Switzerland.”
“Which is why Pellegrino couldn’t find you,” Jared said thoughtfully. “And your fifty odd grand just sat in your bank account earning interest.”
Jensen nodded. “And when I got out, I put some of the stolen money in it too. My parents barred me from getting cash advances on my Amex, but they didn’t care if I bought stuff. So I was generous with friends. Bought them expensive art and jewellery. And sometimes, I bought expensive art and jewellery and then sold it and put the cash in my account. And sometimes I sold…” Jensen broke off suddenly.
“Sold what?”
“Nothing.”
“Sold what, Jensen? Drugs? Were you dealing?”
Jensen shook his head. “I’m not stupid enough to do that. I know me. Someone gave me a stash to sell, I’d end up using it all. I keep away from that shit as much as I can.”
“So what then? Your ass? Were you standing on street corners?”
Jensen rolled his eyes and lit a cigarette. “Paintings, okay? I sold paintings.”
Jared frowned. “You already said that you bought and sold art.”
Jensen shook his head again. “My paintings. Paintings that I did.”
Jared raised his eyebrows. “You’re an artist?”
Jensen shrugged. “Wouldn’t go that far. I just…paint stuff.”
He swallowed down the rest of his whiskey and then poured himself another glass. He was supposed to be playing in another pool tournament tonight, but the trip down memory lane had left him feeling unsettled and besides, Jared was in a good mood and being friendly and charming and good company and Jensen was starting to feel like he was in an actual real relationship.
Over the course of the evening Jensen had far too much to drink and ended up letting Jared fuck him, because Jared had an awesome dick and Jensen really liked it being inside of him. He especially liked it when Jared held his wrists and pinned him face down against the bed. And he liked it even more when Jared pulled almost out, so that Jensen’s ass was pried wide open on the head of Jared’s fat dick, and then held himself right there until Jensen begged brokenly to be fucked. When Jared finally fucked in, hard and deep, Jensen almost spontaneously combusted, and fuck it all, if they were going to keep fucking like bunnies he’d just have to start doing Kegels exercises, because this? This was too good to go without.
The next day Jared went out mid-morning, mumbling something about the club and business and Jensen decided he didn’t want to know, what with all the tom-toms pounding inside his skull, so he took a couple of Tylenol and went back to sleep.
By the time he finally surfaced it was almost three in the afternoon. He had coffee and a cigarette, some toast and then a shower.
Jared still wasn’t back so Jensen decided to head down to the pool hall. He figured that should be okay, given their discussions yesterday, but even so he sent Jared a quick text letting the biker know where he’d be.
Steve was playing a doubles game at one of the outer tables when Jensen arrived, so he strolled across to watch. Strolled with a slight hitch to his gait and damn if he couldn’t feel Steve assessing him from across the room.
Steve finished clearing the table and shook hands with his partner and his opponents and then turned and offered his hand to Jensen.
“You doin’ all right, son?”
“I’m good. You?”
“Oh, you know,” Steve smiled easily. “Gettin’ old. Still it’s better than the alternative, I guess. Where’s your entourage?”
“Just me today.”
Steve pursed his lips and looked like he wanted to pursue that, but thankfully he didn’t, simply nodded to the cue rack and challenged Jensen to a game.
“We missed you yesterday,” Steve said as he watched Jensen break. “I thought you were going to play in last night’s tournament.”
Jensen admitted that he was planning on it, but that he and Jared had gotten distracted with other things. He rubbed at the back of his neck and looked up coyly from beneath his eyelashes and Steve laughed outright.
“I see how it is,” he said. “It wasn’t too much fightin’ gave you that limp, it was too much lovin’.”
Just for that, Jensen made the eight on the break.
Steve shook his head. “Damn, kid,” he said. “You’re really somethin’ else.”
--
It was close to midnight when Jensen got home, flushed with the thrill of his tournament win and one too many celebratory drinks. He found Jared sitting in the living room drinking whiskey by the light of the Discovery channel.
Jensen threw the pile of fifties he’d just won down on the coffee table in front of Jared.
“Won again,” he said. “Another thousand to go to Pellegrino.”
Jared looked up at him from beneath his bangs and his eyes were like coal.
“I got home,” he said. “And you weren’t here.”
Jensen sat down on the far end of the sofa and eyed Jared cautiously. “I texted you,” he said. “I told you where I was.”
Jared’s expression was dark and unfathomable. “At four. It’s midnight now.”
“You could have come down.”
Jared slammed his tumbler down on the coffee table and it took more effort than Jensen would have liked to keep from flinching.
“I didn’t want your buddy to start whispering in your ear about how I was stalking you,” Jared filled up his tumbler and took a long swallow. “He’s a cop, you know. Did you know that? Detective Steven Williams, Gang and Narcotics Division.”
“No,” Jensen said. “I didn’t know that.”
Jared snorted. “Liar. You’re prob’ly his informant. Gonna rat me out.”
“I played pool with the guy a couple times. We didn’t swap life stories. I didn’t know he was a cop. And he probably doesn’t even know who you are.”
Jared shook his head. “He knows. He’s got a rep. Good at his job. Incorruptible. Maybe you just fell in his lap, but he’s gonna try to use you.”
He threw back the rest of his whiskey and reached for the bottle again.
“The Beast says I should put you in your place. Show you what happens to people who rat us out.”
Jensen knew exactly what happened to people who ratted out HellSpawn. He’d been HeyDay’s apprentice, after all. But looking at Jared, he didn’t think he was about to get an ass kicking. And not just because Jared looked like he’d have trouble walking a straight line right now. Jensen scooted closer to the biker and put a hand on his thigh. “You know I won’t ever rat you out, right?”
Jared scoffed. “Don’t see why you wouldn’t. It’d get you out from under me.”
Jensen couldn’t help grinning. “Yeah? Well maybe I like being under you,” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively and was rewarded with a small smile.
Jared sat back with a fresh glass of whiskey and sighed. “Had a shitty day, Jen. Fucking ATF douchebags. And then got the news about De-tec-tive Williams. And Pellegrino wants to see bruises again. And then you didn’t come home an’ you didn’t come home and I thought…thought…”
Jared was actually pouting and Jensen almost laughed.
“Well I’m here now,” he said instead. “You wanna hit the sack? You can mark me up a little. Keep The Beast happy.”
“Okay,” Jared plonked his half-drunk glass of whiskey down on the coffee table and stood up, stretching so that his tee-shirt rode up and exposed his flat abs and snail trail. Jensen licked his lips. Jared grinned down at him and then reached out a hand and hauled Jensen to his feet.
“I gotta tell you, Jen,” Jared enunciated carefully, “that I am very, very, very drunk right now. Prob’ly got a whiskey dick coz of all the whiskey I drank.”
Jensen hooked an arm around the biker and began herding him toward the bedroom.
“So we prob’ly can’t fuck,” Jared said as he staggered forward. “But I could spank you again. And then jerk you off. And then we can cuddle. I like cuddling.”
Drunk Jared was even more of an octopus than regular Jared and once they were both naked, Jensen allowed the biker to pull him over his lap and spank his ass. Even drunk, Jared seemed to enjoy doing it. Jensen-didn’t. Not really. He didn’t totally hate it; some perverse part of him got off on being forced to submit, but it seemed he needed to be already horny and turned on when he got spanked in order to properly enjoy it himself. Afterwards, Jared held him in his arms and jerked him off slowly while kissing his wet cheek and licking and biting at his neck and jaw. That part definitely didn’t suck.
Once Jensen had cleaned up, Jared insisted on cuddling him again.
“So fuckin’ hot,” he murmured in Jensen’s ear. “JD used to get sick of me goin’ on about how hot you were. But you’re hot like the sun,” he nuzzled at Jensen’s throat.
“How’d you end up with JD anyway?” Jensen asked, just to change the subject really.
He soon wished he hadn’t.
Jared’s childhood had sucked out loud. His mom had been a junkie and a sex worker. He’d been an accident. And his mom had lost and regained custody of him several times during his childhood. She’d moved them around a lot, always trying to keep one step ahead of Child Services. Not because she cared. Jared was very clear on that point. Because he was a meal ticket. Because there was always a good chance that if a dealer didn’t want her in trade for the fix she needed, he’d be happy to take Jared in trade instead.
Jensen listened to Jared’s dispassionate tale of abuse and neglect with growing horror and he was spitefully pleased when Jared told him that his mom had died of a drug overdose when he was thirteen. Of course, that merely left him to the tender mercies of a foster father with a large gambling debt and no qualms about using Jared to pay it off; which went a long way toward explaining why Jared had taken such vicious joy in personally garrotting bookie Sterling Brown.
MorningStar Motors was just around the corner from where Jared lived with his last foster family and he used to sneak in to look at the cars and the bikes and watch the mechanics work. Sterling Brown had to pay dues to HellSpawn in order to operate on their turf and somehow or other, JD found out what was going on with Jared and his foster father’s debt.
“JD wanted to kill Sterling back then,” Jared said, in the flat tone he’d been using since he began to talk about his childhood. “But The Beast said he was too valuable. He got a pretty severe beating, though, and my foster father disappeared. I just kind of…went home with JD and nobody seemed to care. I was fourteen years old and I dropped out of school and got an apprenticeship at MorningStar Motors. JD, he was the best dad I ever had. Didn’t hit me, never tried to fuck me. He was so kind and patient and,” Jared wiped at his face. “I was a fucking mess, Jen. But he taught me about real love and loyalty and gave me something to live for. And then he got killed. And we never even figured out who did it.”
Jensen wiggled on his sore ass and then peered up at Jared. “I probably shouldn’t say anything,” he said, “but…you do know that doesn’t track, right? Pellegrino’s VP got murdered. He should’ve moved Heaven and Hell to sort out who did it, not just let it drop.”
Jared looked at him with sad, wide eyes. “HeyDay said that Pellegrino thought he got capped by the ATF, that there was nothing we could do without risking the club and that we should just let it go.”
“Do you believe that?” Jensen asked.
Jared shrugged. And then passed out.
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