Black Valentine 2/? (Jensen/Jared, NC-17)
Oops, forgot to match AO3 and post here last week.
Title: Black Valentine 2/?
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Jensen/Jared
Summary: Jensen had a mission to complete on board the most expensive and elite cruiser in the Orion Belt. Unfortunately it was a one-time, couples-only vacation and his partner had just cried off. The runaway twink he met in the spaceport looked like he had potential though.
Warnings: dub-con, au, kidnapping, non consensual drug use, fake relationship, BDSM, bad BDSM etiquette, collar, age gap, graphic violence and abuse, slavery, piercings, this au does not relate gender to clothing
AN: I started this for Big Bang but it is a monster and I didn't feel I could do the story credit by the deadline, then froze in the headlights because I wasn't sure I should be writing at all with another wip on my hands. Then I decided to ask what other people thought, got over myself and decided to do it as wip anyway. Thank you so much for the LJ support, especially fufaraw who has helped to improve this. The story is a mash-up of so many of my favourite kinks and cliches, so it will be posted semi regularly but it is absolutely for me to have fun with then share. I'm not going to pressure myself with difficult targets and deadlines.
Disclaimer: It's not real. This is an au Jared and Jensen who play in my head and mean no harm or disrespect to the Jared and Jensen in the real world.
***
back to part one
Jensen ditched his case in lost property. His latest acquisition was safely tucked into a scan-proof pouch and secreted in a private place. The first part of his mission had played out perfectly and he would be buoyed by it, if it weren’t for Chris Kane’s words in his head. “You’ll have to improvise, Jensen,” signaling the need to replace his partner for the next phase.
“Improvise?” he asked his handler as he searched a third locker in the pilots’ shower room.
“That was the order.”
“Why the hell couldn’t you make it?” Jensen sniped back at Chris. He lifted out a shirt and growled softly at the sight of prosthetic arms sewn into it.
“As much as I love to whup your pretty ass, nobody gets away from Trudeau in a solar storm.”
“And this solar storm lasted for four days. I call bullshit.”
“You can check the net report. Believe me, Alona was looking forward to stepping in as our handler. Who wouldn’t want to handle these asses?”
Jensen shook his head and laughed out loud, “Yeah, yeah! It's not like you can’t fake it the same way you fix everything else. I swear, if I find out that you’re chilling in a zero gravity love-hammock while I am risking my pretty ass, I will string you up and gift you to the Tsar.”
“Ah, that’s not nice.”
Another lock pinged open. The shirt in there would pass, but the pants were some sort of purple designer wear, way too noticeable. He slipped the shirt on and buttoned it then worked his lock-hacker again, keeping a keen ear for anyone approaching. “This isn’t the sort of resource that can be improvised, Chris. You know it. It’s why you were authorized for this particular mission. There must be somebody, any operative within range.” Jensen smoothed his hand over smart woolen pants. They would do just fine. The formal pilot’s cap beside them was a bonus to hide his face.
“Everyone is being utilized, Jensen. I have personally been through every possibility with the chief. We're out of options and out of time. The bomb will be on the Black Valentine and it cannot pass into the wrong hands. We can always improvise. It’s what we do.”
Jensen huffed. Sometimes he couldn’t believe his employers. “You want me to kidnap some innocent schmuk?”
“Innocent or not innocent. Who cares? It’s not like we have a choice; one life against dozens of planets. You do the math.”
Jensen finished dressing, spiked his short, dirty-blond hair and set the cap upon it with the peak hiding his eyes. “Fine. Suggestions?”
I set you down on Winchester, didn’t I? Its residents are mostly poor, generally pretty, and they’re open-minded but gullible. It makes it a popular hunting ground for pirates and brothel recruiters. If you can’t find a suitable mark here then you should probably retire.”
“Does anybody retire?” Jensen joked.
Chris Kane’s answering laugh was half-hearted. “That’s what they tell us.”
Jensen licked his lips, “Well I think you may be right about the pretty. First thing I saw coming out of that pod was, as you like to say, a sweet piece of ass. I’ll check out the bar to see what’s on offer.”
“Tell me again who has the raw deal, Jensen?” Kane’s chuckle was real this time, “Do you want me to stay online for a while?”
“Yeah, for now. A second perspective is always useful when you’ve pissed off the most powerful person in the solar system.”
With Jensen’s neural chip his handler could see what Jensen saw, from a safely guarded bunker lightyears across the galaxy. Chris Kane would focus in on background details with software that ran multiple analyses automatically. It had saved Jensen’s life more than once, even if it meant zero privacy from his handler.
***
The bar was full enough not to draw unwanted attention but it wasn’t the sort of place he would choose to drink. There were unsavory stains on the floor, bland music played in the background, and some sort of fake perfume was being pumped through the a/c which smelt a little like jasmine but overall reminded him of a cheap disinfectant.
The whiskey was local so Jensen ordered imported bourbon. Backwater brands were never worth drinking, whatever the difference in cost. He drank it neat - who knew what was in the water - while he propped an elbow on the bar and made small talk with the tentacled barkeep who could fulfil several orders at a time and still chat. It was a skill Jensen admired but it didn’t mean he dropped his guard, the gossip was inane and he barely noticed it as he expertly scanned the room for a mark.
There were the usual sort of customers who drifted into a port bar; workers at the end of their shift mingled with tourists and businessbeings who anxiously watched departures boards. Some hooker was looking to get lucky with a young blond kid who didn’t look old enough to drink, and there was an ancient drifter nursing a glass of local brew, wasting time, hoping for a lucky break.
So far, Jensen was drawing a blank but he was relieved to note that there were no couples who looked remotely like they would be boarding the Black Valentine with him. It would raise questions as to where his partner was. Of course, given that a cruise on the Black Valentine cost more than a small diamond asteroid, it was unsurprising that his fellow travelers would favor a luxury shuttle over scheduled port-hopping.
Jensen moved from the bar to sit in a booth with a view of the hooker and the horny kid she was calling Chad.
Kane interrupted his thoughts, “You have twenty two standard hours until departure. You don’t have time to be fussy. The blond boy looks promising. Chad Michael Murray; he’s young, obviously horny, has a good body and nice eyes. There are mediocre grades and a middle class family with no connections, as far as I can tell. Or you could make deal with the hooker, she’s not bad and comes with ready-made experience.”
“Hmm. Do you think she’s a recruiter on the prowl for fresh meat?” he wondered.
“Hang on, pulling data. Chastity Rourke, thirty-four, previous for soliciting. Oh, but more recently there’s a warrant out for kidnap and coercion off Mayflower. She’s got connections to the Brief Encounter, an unregistered brothel cruiser, which is due to break orbit in seventy five minutes. Their last shuttle departs in nineteen minutes. It would be a perfect snatch,” his handler confirmed.
Jensen honed in on Chastity. She fluttered her eyelashes, tittered and ran her hand up the blond kid’s leg, promising him travel, board and much, much more. He thought she might as well be offering candy, but the kid, Chad, was cocky, full of himself and hanging onto every word with a shine of excitement in his eyes.
“Holy crap. He’s fallen for it. I’m pretty sure she’s got him on the hook, so why the delay?” .
“Yeah, gullible,” Chris reminded him, “Most of the locals have never been off the farm, let alone off Winchester. Got a plan yet?”
“Chastity is too risky- the Tsar has fingers in every racket in these parts. She could be known to him.”
“I meant the Chad kid.”
“No. He’s not right.”
“Twenty two hours,” reminded Chris, “He’s dog chow. You’d be doing him a favor.”
“No. Look at him, he’s not right. I don’t have time to work with his temperament.”
“Yeah, well, I feel ya, but I’m not so… well, hello again pretty boy …”
Jensen swiveled his head to get a better look at the lone figure entering the bar. He watched as the tall kid who had greeted him with concern at the docks, weaved past him towards Chad and Chastity. He slid off his pack and grinned at them. Chastity gave a wide, encouraging smile with shiny pink lips and they both waved him over.
“That’s what they’re waiting for.” Chris and Jensen said at the same time.
Jensen rapidly re-assessed the tall kid. Young, but not quite jailbait, a little gangly but lithe - probably supple. Slightly hunched shoulders and careful gait - shy - and he had shiny brown hair with bangs that fell softly around his face framing a fine bone structure, a cute nose and startlingly pretty hazel eyes. Jensen already knew, from their previous encounter, that he was polite and caring, but not pushy. And, oh, when the kid smiled at Chad, all pearl teeth and dimples, the room seemed brighter and Jensen knew he was going to have him.
“Jensen. You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking are you?”
“Look at him. He’s perfect,” he gushed uncharacteristically.
“No, he is not,” sighed Chris. “Jared Padalecki, eighteen years old. Poor -as-mud farming family. He’s bright, got good grades, but dropped points because of poor attendance in harvest and planting seasons.
“See, perfect,” interrupted Jensen.
“Don’t interrupt the maestro! Jared is betrothed to Tahmoh Penikett, head honcho in these parts and he is wealthy and well connected by this system’s standards. Oh, wow, it was a hefty sum of ‘intention’ that he paid Jared’s parents for his hand. Penikett definitely has the resources to fund a reward, or revenge, and you don’t need any more complications.”
“C’mon. It’s nothing you can’t fix. A little flip of the database and everyone will be looking for Joe Ordinary. In fact …” Jensen’s mind whirred as he sorted through various scenarios, slotting the framework of a plan into place, “We’re going to let them board the Brief Encounter and leave a trail of breadcrumbs to it.”
“You’re going to take the kid from the Brief Encounter? That seems unnecessarily complicated and time consuming.”
“It’s not a battle cruiser! They’re not heavily armed, and they will be distracted at departure, securing their assets and ditching johns. If two innocent runaways are coerced aboard and one of them disappears between ports, then conclusions will be drawn, the search will be ended, and the operators will get a shake down. Two birds, one stone, Kane.”
Kane huffed, “Okay, don’t get killed. Do you want us to clean up loose ends at their next stop.”
“Not entirely, let Chad live, he’s my leverage.”
“And Jared? What happens to him when we’re through?” Chris wondered.
“He’s the sort who will never go home once he tastes the black.”
Jared moved to sit with Chad, and Chastity stood up. “No time,” she said to Jared, “You’ll get refreshments on board.”
Chris continued talking in Jensen’s head, “Nobody said that Padalecki was a runaway. He’s reportedly excited to be chosen by Tahmoh as a life and business partner.”
“Huh. No. That kid was in the tour docks. He was looking for a ride. I’m thinking that this planet, being a rich man’s trophy, it’s all too small, too ordinary for him.”
“And you decided that by staring at his ass for two minutes?” Kane said.
Of course Chris would have noticed that. “It’s aesthetically pleasing,” he countered.
Jensen continued watching the small group. He noted a flicker of doubt on Jared’s face but Chad was talking excitedly, telling his friend that he had checked the girl’s credentials. Chastity described a luxurious cruiser. No doubt all of its extravagances existed, thought Jensen, but they were for paying clients. Chad and Jared were not destined to be that.
Jared lifted his backpack again, but worry was obvious in his frown. “Chad. I’m not sure. I’ve been told that the big tours only use experienced staff.”
“Here we go, looks like we’re back to square one. Your boy is too bright to fall for it.” Kane sounded far too smug.
“Wait,” said Jensen. They continued to observe the small group.
Chastity gave a reassuring smile, “Yeah, sure. The fat-cat operators justify their prices that way, but independents, like us, can give better prices, and crew who are invested in the trip work more efficiently. If you’re not interested…” she picked up speed, “I really have to get back. Chad assured me I wasn’t wasting my time but…” she sighed, “We’ll have to muddle through short-staffed. We can pick somebody up at the moon observatory. There are always hikers looking for a ride.”
Chad grabbed Jared’s arm and tugged him along. “I don’t believe you, J-Bird. I assured her you were serious about getting off this stupid hunk of dirt. You said you wanted to travel. The moon observatory , c’mon, you have always geeked out over it. I can’t believe you’d wuss out when we are so close, man.”
Jared bit his lip and seemingly made a decision. He picked up his pace to walk beside Chad, and they both followed Chastity out of the bar.
“Aha, see that? He defers to others. Told you he was it.” Jensen crowed. With his decision made he slipped from his booth to follow them. “Kane, charge one of my blank identities with universal credit, two fifty should cover it. Get me a private hire to the Brief Encounter and find me a fancy, armed ship for the getaway. Something classy enough to dock with the Black Valentine. We’re not returning to Winchester.”
“You’re hooking straight up with the Black Valentine?”
“We’ve got a short window. Let’s not give the kid a chance to run.”
“Seriously?” grumbled Chris, “You can’t keep things simple for me?”
“Improvise!” Jensen replied pointedly.
“Hmph. On it.”
***
to part 3
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