J2 | Beautiful Mess | NC-17
Title: Beautiful Mess
Words: 3400
Rating/Warning: NC-17/escort!Jensen
Summary: Jensen is a high-priced escort and Jared is the businessman who changes everything. Part of the Domestic Dreams verse.
Notes: This comes before Hot Blood Love. Written for smpc. Inspired by from Jason Mraz's "A Beautiful Mess". Thanks to zubeneschamali and rozearkana for beta (and putting up with my writing this during our girls' weekend)
Read on AO3
When Jensen was in high school, he realized he could use his wiles to his advantage. First, it was to convince jocks and cheerleaders to pay him for answers to homework and tests. Then it was negotiating with pledges at his fraternity to do his laundry and wash his car.
In time, it became a more questionable arrangement. His services were not always academic. They became more personal, private. He was able to support his college expenses with a hand job here and there, maybe an exchange of blow jobs to help a closeted guy get through the week. In due time, Jensen had himself a short list of regulars who paid him well. Not so much to open his mouth on command, but to keep it shut.
Privacy was the real service he was able to offer, so he built a career on it and moved from budget-restricted twenty-somethings to businessman with unlimited resources.
That’s how he now finds himself in the lobby of the Maison Charles, watching the hotel’s visitors come and go. A few businessmen catch his eye. Jensen smiles at a few, judges their responses, but nothing comes to fruition.
When happy hour hits, he heads into the bar and settles at the far end for a direct view of those who enter. A balding man in an rumpled suit sits a few stools down. He unbuttons the collar on his shirt and yanks at the tie for some breath. It takes a pour of bourbon until the man relaxes and stretches out in his space at the bar. In due time, he’s glancing at Jensen with an intent-laced gaze, like he’s sizing Jensen up and liking what he sees. His hands are dry and red from rubbing them together, fingers chubby with a gold band squeezing tight to his ring finger. Someone like that will likely drop a heavy stack of bills to cover his shame. Jensen will be happy to be on the receiving end of that payment.
The bartender, Tom, stops by to refill Jensen’s draft beer, flits his eyebrows and asks about his evening. A lot of nights have started this way. Small talk about how busy the place gets. Or never gets. They’ve seen each other enough that Jensen would consider their conversations amicable, even when Tom usually side-eyes Jensen’s presence.
Commenting on the state of the empty bar, Jensen shrugs. “Quiet night, huh?”
“Tuesdays usually take awhile to get going.” Tom gives him a look. “But you know that. Surprised to see you here tonight.”
“Something fell through,” Jensen responds. He tries not to feel bitter over a regular cancelling their reservation due to travel delays. Bad storms in the Pacific Northwest, Jensen knows. But he still hates losing out on a big payday. That’s really why he’s here, hoping to maybe pick up a new customer or two.
“I guess that’s the trouble with your business. Unreliable customers.”
Jensen snorts. “My customers are pretty reliable. Regularly satisfied, not to toot my own horn. Though I do that, too.”
Tom rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to go into details.”
“What?” he chuckles. “You don’t want to hear about what I did last night?”
With another roll of his eyes, Tom moves on to serve a new group of folks at the other side of the place. Jensen smugly smiles, drinking some of his beer while appreciating how he can always dig into the guy. Just for fun. Brings a little lightness to these kinds of evenings.
He looks over to the businessman from before and and lifts one eyebrow. That one little move grants a near 90 percent success rate of leading to a business transaction if the man is ready.
It takes a few long moments of the man checking Jensen out before calling for Tom to buy Jensen another beer.
Jensen raises his glass in thanks and smiles a bit lopsided, thankful when the man winks in return. “In town long?” Jensen asks with a direct look.
“A few days. You?” The man takes a long gulp of his beer, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. It’s not exactly attractive, but Jensen has done more with less and there isn’t anything else on his schedule tonight.
“About the same. Business or pleasure?”
“Business,” he replies immediately. “But I wouldn’t mind a little pleasure. If that’s what you’re asking.”
Slowly, Jensen nods. “I just happen to be in that business.”
With a dirty laugh, the man is delighted. Though only for a few seconds before his cell phone rings and he excuses himself. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
Jensen nods with smirk. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
The place has now filled up with the evening crowd gathering, appetizers and drinks taking up space on the bar. Not long after the man disappears for his call, someone else takes the seat beside Jensen, the only open stool at the bar. They share a quick look and smile.
Then Jensen freezes, stomach dropping low and his heart beginning to race.
In Jensen’s years as a high-priced escort, he’s been with men of all ages and socioeconomic statuses, but every once in a blue moon, someone catches his sights for entirely different reasons. Something more natural than money for sex.
A strong jaw and long, thick neck. Broad shoulders under a finely tailored suit. He slouches at the bar, fully betraying the length and thickness of the rest of his body … something Jensen would love to explore without time or money setting the tone. When the man slants his eyes toward Jensen, there’s a long hesitation between them and Jensen slowly smiles while taking a deep breath.
Jensen tips his glass towards him, murmurs a soft, “Good evening.”
“Hi,” the man nearly whispers in return. He quickly looks away, yet Jensen spots how he licks his lips and nervously bites at the corner of his mouth while daring to catch Jensen’s eye again.
“Waiting on some coworkers?” Jensen asks, hoping he’s alone today.
“Coworkers …” The man blinks a few times. “How did you know?”
Smirking, Jensen motions towards him. “Business suit must mean business right?”
With an awkward chuckle, he nods. “Yeah, I guess so.” After a long look over Jensen, his lips tip up a little. “What about you? You don’t really look like you’re here for business.”
Jensen holds his breath, wagering how to reply to that. He absolutely is, but he doesn’t intend to say so. Not now, especially if he can enjoy an evening with an unreasonably attractive man. “Just getting myself a drink. Wasting some time.”
“Until?”
He turns on the charm, leaning against the bar and considering the guy carefully. Even in the suit, he can tell this is probably the tallest person he’s ever seen in his life. Jensen doesn’t often come across anyone who could overpower him, and the visions of that happening, with this one, turn him on. “Until I found someone interesting to talk to.”
His cheeks turn pink and he hides his humbled look by turning back to his drink, letting strands of hair fall across his face.
Jensen hazards to guess, “And maybe I just did.”
Fully flustered, the guy pushes hair behind his ears and takes a harsh breath that puffs his chest out. Jensen would like to witness that when neither of them are fully clothed. “You want another drink?” the man offers, voice shaky and eyes nervously looking away then back. “It’s on me.”
“I would love that.”
As they wait for Tom to get them a new round, the guy appears to do his best to settle himself and meet Jensen’s charm. “So, um, got any plans … tonight?”
The fact that he fails is more endearing than if he was boldly hitting on Jensen. In this line of work, Jensen is far too used to all sorts of men running right over him with what they say and demand. The money makes it all easier to take, but he’s not thinking much about getting paid tonight. Not when he’s found someone more interesting to talk to.
They fall into easy conversation with the start of the Knicks game. Jensen asks him if he’s a fan, what his home team is, and if he ever thought about using that grand height of his to play.
“No, not a fan,” he answers quickly and Jensen follows up with the rest of his questions.
“A guy tall like you …” Jensen slants a warm look. “Hands that big. Has got to have played ball.”
He chuckles easily. “Yeah, my hands are pretty good.”
So many images flood Jensen’s mind and he can feel a fever grow beneath his skin. “Tell me more.”
Carefully, maybe embarrassed or even quietly excited, the man answers every one of Jensen’s questions. Tells Jensen that he’s from California, typically roots for the Clippers because he likes a good underdog story, and yes, he did once play but those dreams died in college. He has an uptight nine to five job that requires suits every day and calls for more overtime than he could have ever imagined. But it pays for for a nice job on the coast, bi-annual vacations across the ocean, and a super-charged Land Rover.
“That’s a pretty big SUV,” Jensen points out. And perhaps leading the guy to his reply …
“I’m a pretty big guy.” His smile is shy, growing slowly as they share a long glance.
More questions and Jensen finds out his name is Jared, and beneath all of the friendly interrogation, Jensen realizes that Jared isn’t used to this sort of thing. Even if he seems to be thoroughly enjoying it.
Jensen isn’t used to this either and he’s more than enjoying it. He’s living for it.
*
The businessman from earlier returns when they’re finishing their second round together.
Jensen is light and warm, a nice buzz running through his system. Jared’s laugh is careful yet pleasant and he’s scooted over to the next stool so they’re seated hip to hip at the bar.
Jared is in the middle of predicting the Knicks’ upcoming stretch of twelve games on the road and Jensen is happily waiting on his every word, stowing those thoughts away for his day job.
Then the interruption comes with the businessman squeezing into the minor bit of space to the left, grabbing hold of Jensen’s forearm and squeezing. “Hey, didn’t mean to leave you for so long. You ready to get out of here?”
Jensen’s eyes widen and he holds himself still as he considers how to respond. Time and quiet stretches between them until he finally apologies and shifts towards the man, if only to limit the reaction and Jared’s view. “Sorry, but something has come up.”
“I’m not sure what your rate is,” the man says none too quietly. He makes a show of looking around Jared before cruelly smiling at Jensen. “But I’ve got deep pockets. I’ll make it worth your evening.”
Forcing a smile, Jensen narrows his eyes to make his point. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
The man looks between Jared and Jensen quite a few times, making Jensen’s spine straighten as worry floods him over the next step in this situation.
“Just another cheap whore,” the guy spits out. He glares at them harshly as he leaves, which makes it uneasy, yet Jensen is thankful it’s over quite quickly.
Jensen attempts a chuckle and shrug, but Jared just stares at him. Waits a while until he asks, “You get that a lot?”
Now he tries waving it off like he has no clue what the situation is. Except Jared is no longer warm and open. His shoulders pull in and he keeps looking back to the Knicks game, like they weren’t just getting to know each other like any two adults could at any bar or club across the city.
Jensen immediately defends, “No, look, that’s not what it looks like.”
“It’s fine. I should’ve guessed.”
“Why?”
“I mean … a guy like you? Trying to hit on me?” Jared huffs out a breath. “Definitely a prostitute.”
“Escort,” Jensen answers, flinching immediately. The room seems to have gone cold and dark.
Or maybe that’s just Jared’s disposition. With an angry laugh, Jared shakes his head. “Is there really a difference?”
Jensen definitely thinks there is. A different level of clientele for one. The sophistication and privacy Jensen can provide puts him into a different class. His defenses are clashing with his want to go back just five minutes, before that other guy stepped in and tore up Jensen’s chances at a real connection.
“How much does it cost anyway?” Jared asks just before taking a long sip of his drink.
As calmly as possible, and instilling some real warmth in his voice, Jensen slowly responds. “I wasn’t trying to pick you up.”
“How much?”
“Jared, I swear …” Jensen drifts off when Jared brings his wallet out to drop a few twenties on the bar.
The way Jared holds it open, showing off plenty more bills, makes Jensen think of every other opening transaction with his regulars. The ones who like to flash cash to show him just what they’re hoping to buy.
Jensen would never say it aloud, but he’s sure his heart shatters at that precise moment. To have met a guy in more innocent circumstances, feel something brewing between them, only to be torn apart by what can be bought.
There are more times than he’d like to count when he wonders if there’s more to him than the way his lips look around someone’s dick or how far he can bend over.
“For the night?” Jared asks, breaking Jensen from his tumble into the darker corners of his mind.
Jensen considers leaving without making a deal. Or even insisting it’s free tonight. But he just can’t get himself to argue against Jared. And far into the future, he’ll realize he could never walk away from him.
*
Once the door to Jared’s suite closes, Jared asks, “So how does this work?”
“Did you miss sex ed in school?” he teases.
Jared sighs with a dead look. Jensen thinks about winking at him to lessen the blow, but Jared seems to set on what’s happening and only that. “I imagine I pay first?”
“Yeah,” he replies while scoping out the room. It’s a rather extravagant room with fine furnishings, upholding Jared’s commentary on the Fortune 500 company he was here to represent. If nothing else, Jensen can enjoy this evening with Jared and the pay. “What are you interested in?”
Taking his time to answer, Jared removes his suit coat and tosses it over the back of the couch. “I don’t really know,” he admits softly. Then falls into the couch and breathes deeply. “You’re the professional.”
There’s an immediate draw to Jared that makes Jensen want to crawl right into that widespread lap and drink from the pink lips, bitten nervously for more of the evening. The professional in him, however, takes his time. He also slips out of his leather jacket, folding it neatly and resting it on the arm of a side chair as he comes closer to Jared.
Jared widens his legs, sinks lower into the couch and his suit pants pull illicitly across his crotch. Jensen subconsciously licks his lips with the dreams of tearing Jared apart with every practiced touch of his tongue.
“What do you want to do?” Jared asks, as if he knows Jensen’s mind is wandering.
Jensen sits at the coffee table, settling between Jared’s legs. Sets his hands on Jared’s knees and rubs his thumbs along the inseam of Jared’s pants. “I could just show you?”
The adam’s apple in Jared’s throat bobs obscenely and Jensen smirks, takes that as the green light to proceed.
He shifts forward to rest on his knees as he takes as much time as his patience will allow him. It isn’t much, but it seems to be more than Jared has. The guy is breathing shallowly, quickly, and sucking on his lower lip as Jensen works on Jared’s belt and undoes his pants.
The room is otherwise deathly quiet and Jensen whispers his commands for Jared to lift his hips so he can get his pants and underwear down to his ankles. Jensen is not disappointed at the sight of Jared’s dick half hard, long and thick and flushed. He slowly reaches for it, holding the weight of it in his palm like it’s fragile. And maybe Jared is. And Jensen is in this moment, too, because he wants it to be something more than a quick payday.
Jensen meets Jared’s eyes as he carefully tugs, bringing his fist to the head of Jared’s cock and back down again. He mimics much of Jared’s movements to lick his lips, rubbing them together as Jensen picks up some speed and fists him a little faster.
As Jared releases needy noises, Jensen’s mouth goes dry. He needs to taste Jared, have his sweat and skin on his mouth, so he moves in and licks at the head.
“Oh my God,” Jared whines, sounding pained and struggling for air.
“You like that?” Jensen asks, glancing up to Jared. Hiding some of his eyes under hooded eyelids really seems to egg Jared on because now he seems to have lost any semblance of control with blown pupils and his fingers digging into his bare thighs.
“Keep going,” he begs. “Please don’t stop.”
With that, Jensen dives in to swallow him down. Every trick in the book comes out to play as he curls his tongue along the hot length of Jared’s dick, sucks hard and constant and wet. When he closes his eyes Jensen can really throw himself into it and pretend this isn’t some stilted pick-up that’s turned into just another job. Like Jared isn’t another John needing Jensen’s services to get off. Like Jared is really enjoying this because it’s Jensen and that he won’t be lining Jensen’s pockets with a fat wad of cash.
Jensen gets back to the head and laves all around it, tonguing along the rim and taking his time to pull Jared apart. He listens for every one of Jared’s pitched noises, tastes the salt of Jared’s skin, feels the heat of his cock on Jensen’s tongue. Does it all over again to catalog it for Jensen’s later needs.
He could go on for far too long, yet Jared is completely unprepared when Jensen drops low to fill his mouth as far as he can. Jared’s hands fly to Jensen’s head, holding softly to the sides as he cries out, warns that he’s too close, too soon.
“If you get me off now,” Jared whines, “you have to let me fuck you later.”
It’s not what he’d expect to hear, but it’s what Jensen wants, too. To be so goddam full of dick, to have Jared all around him and pinning him to the bed. Jensen pulls back and goes back to palming Jared as he watches him doing his best to catch his breath.
“I don’t want this to be over yet,”Jared groans.
“Neither do I,” he replies, sincere and bursting with excitement. Quickly tugs at Jared’s dick. “Wanna taste you then feel you.”
Now Jared speaks untethered, words flying out of his mouth as Jensen runs his lips along the underside of Jared’s dick. “Wanna feel you, too. Get inside you, fuck you all night and in the morning. Need it so bad.”
Jensen glances up, whispers, “Me, too,” before sucking all of Jared into his mouth. Using his hand along with his mouth, he speeds up and does his best to unravel Jared and open him raw, just like Jensen can feel himself falling apart with the need to have everything Jared can give him.
When Jared comes, filling Jensen’s mouth without warning, Jensen’s mind is nowhere near reality. He’s drowning in the beautifully broken sounds Jared lets free.
*
Money doesn’t enter his mind for another six hours and even then, Jensen leaves bills on the table. It’s the first time in years he’s felt dirty accepting payment. He’s sure it won’t be the last.
Words: 3400
Rating/Warning: NC-17/escort!Jensen
Summary: Jensen is a high-priced escort and Jared is the businessman who changes everything. Part of the Domestic Dreams verse.
Notes: This comes before Hot Blood Love. Written for smpc. Inspired by from Jason Mraz's "A Beautiful Mess". Thanks to zubeneschamali and rozearkana for beta (and putting up with my writing this during our girls' weekend)
Read on AO3
When Jensen was in high school, he realized he could use his wiles to his advantage. First, it was to convince jocks and cheerleaders to pay him for answers to homework and tests. Then it was negotiating with pledges at his fraternity to do his laundry and wash his car.
In time, it became a more questionable arrangement. His services were not always academic. They became more personal, private. He was able to support his college expenses with a hand job here and there, maybe an exchange of blow jobs to help a closeted guy get through the week. In due time, Jensen had himself a short list of regulars who paid him well. Not so much to open his mouth on command, but to keep it shut.
Privacy was the real service he was able to offer, so he built a career on it and moved from budget-restricted twenty-somethings to businessman with unlimited resources.
That’s how he now finds himself in the lobby of the Maison Charles, watching the hotel’s visitors come and go. A few businessmen catch his eye. Jensen smiles at a few, judges their responses, but nothing comes to fruition.
When happy hour hits, he heads into the bar and settles at the far end for a direct view of those who enter. A balding man in an rumpled suit sits a few stools down. He unbuttons the collar on his shirt and yanks at the tie for some breath. It takes a pour of bourbon until the man relaxes and stretches out in his space at the bar. In due time, he’s glancing at Jensen with an intent-laced gaze, like he’s sizing Jensen up and liking what he sees. His hands are dry and red from rubbing them together, fingers chubby with a gold band squeezing tight to his ring finger. Someone like that will likely drop a heavy stack of bills to cover his shame. Jensen will be happy to be on the receiving end of that payment.
The bartender, Tom, stops by to refill Jensen’s draft beer, flits his eyebrows and asks about his evening. A lot of nights have started this way. Small talk about how busy the place gets. Or never gets. They’ve seen each other enough that Jensen would consider their conversations amicable, even when Tom usually side-eyes Jensen’s presence.
Commenting on the state of the empty bar, Jensen shrugs. “Quiet night, huh?”
“Tuesdays usually take awhile to get going.” Tom gives him a look. “But you know that. Surprised to see you here tonight.”
“Something fell through,” Jensen responds. He tries not to feel bitter over a regular cancelling their reservation due to travel delays. Bad storms in the Pacific Northwest, Jensen knows. But he still hates losing out on a big payday. That’s really why he’s here, hoping to maybe pick up a new customer or two.
“I guess that’s the trouble with your business. Unreliable customers.”
Jensen snorts. “My customers are pretty reliable. Regularly satisfied, not to toot my own horn. Though I do that, too.”
Tom rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to go into details.”
“What?” he chuckles. “You don’t want to hear about what I did last night?”
With another roll of his eyes, Tom moves on to serve a new group of folks at the other side of the place. Jensen smugly smiles, drinking some of his beer while appreciating how he can always dig into the guy. Just for fun. Brings a little lightness to these kinds of evenings.
He looks over to the businessman from before and and lifts one eyebrow. That one little move grants a near 90 percent success rate of leading to a business transaction if the man is ready.
It takes a few long moments of the man checking Jensen out before calling for Tom to buy Jensen another beer.
Jensen raises his glass in thanks and smiles a bit lopsided, thankful when the man winks in return. “In town long?” Jensen asks with a direct look.
“A few days. You?” The man takes a long gulp of his beer, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. It’s not exactly attractive, but Jensen has done more with less and there isn’t anything else on his schedule tonight.
“About the same. Business or pleasure?”
“Business,” he replies immediately. “But I wouldn’t mind a little pleasure. If that’s what you’re asking.”
Slowly, Jensen nods. “I just happen to be in that business.”
With a dirty laugh, the man is delighted. Though only for a few seconds before his cell phone rings and he excuses himself. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
Jensen nods with smirk. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
The place has now filled up with the evening crowd gathering, appetizers and drinks taking up space on the bar. Not long after the man disappears for his call, someone else takes the seat beside Jensen, the only open stool at the bar. They share a quick look and smile.
Then Jensen freezes, stomach dropping low and his heart beginning to race.
In Jensen’s years as a high-priced escort, he’s been with men of all ages and socioeconomic statuses, but every once in a blue moon, someone catches his sights for entirely different reasons. Something more natural than money for sex.
A strong jaw and long, thick neck. Broad shoulders under a finely tailored suit. He slouches at the bar, fully betraying the length and thickness of the rest of his body … something Jensen would love to explore without time or money setting the tone. When the man slants his eyes toward Jensen, there’s a long hesitation between them and Jensen slowly smiles while taking a deep breath.
Jensen tips his glass towards him, murmurs a soft, “Good evening.”
“Hi,” the man nearly whispers in return. He quickly looks away, yet Jensen spots how he licks his lips and nervously bites at the corner of his mouth while daring to catch Jensen’s eye again.
“Waiting on some coworkers?” Jensen asks, hoping he’s alone today.
“Coworkers …” The man blinks a few times. “How did you know?”
Smirking, Jensen motions towards him. “Business suit must mean business right?”
With an awkward chuckle, he nods. “Yeah, I guess so.” After a long look over Jensen, his lips tip up a little. “What about you? You don’t really look like you’re here for business.”
Jensen holds his breath, wagering how to reply to that. He absolutely is, but he doesn’t intend to say so. Not now, especially if he can enjoy an evening with an unreasonably attractive man. “Just getting myself a drink. Wasting some time.”
“Until?”
He turns on the charm, leaning against the bar and considering the guy carefully. Even in the suit, he can tell this is probably the tallest person he’s ever seen in his life. Jensen doesn’t often come across anyone who could overpower him, and the visions of that happening, with this one, turn him on. “Until I found someone interesting to talk to.”
His cheeks turn pink and he hides his humbled look by turning back to his drink, letting strands of hair fall across his face.
Jensen hazards to guess, “And maybe I just did.”
Fully flustered, the guy pushes hair behind his ears and takes a harsh breath that puffs his chest out. Jensen would like to witness that when neither of them are fully clothed. “You want another drink?” the man offers, voice shaky and eyes nervously looking away then back. “It’s on me.”
“I would love that.”
As they wait for Tom to get them a new round, the guy appears to do his best to settle himself and meet Jensen’s charm. “So, um, got any plans … tonight?”
The fact that he fails is more endearing than if he was boldly hitting on Jensen. In this line of work, Jensen is far too used to all sorts of men running right over him with what they say and demand. The money makes it all easier to take, but he’s not thinking much about getting paid tonight. Not when he’s found someone more interesting to talk to.
They fall into easy conversation with the start of the Knicks game. Jensen asks him if he’s a fan, what his home team is, and if he ever thought about using that grand height of his to play.
“No, not a fan,” he answers quickly and Jensen follows up with the rest of his questions.
“A guy tall like you …” Jensen slants a warm look. “Hands that big. Has got to have played ball.”
He chuckles easily. “Yeah, my hands are pretty good.”
So many images flood Jensen’s mind and he can feel a fever grow beneath his skin. “Tell me more.”
Carefully, maybe embarrassed or even quietly excited, the man answers every one of Jensen’s questions. Tells Jensen that he’s from California, typically roots for the Clippers because he likes a good underdog story, and yes, he did once play but those dreams died in college. He has an uptight nine to five job that requires suits every day and calls for more overtime than he could have ever imagined. But it pays for for a nice job on the coast, bi-annual vacations across the ocean, and a super-charged Land Rover.
“That’s a pretty big SUV,” Jensen points out. And perhaps leading the guy to his reply …
“I’m a pretty big guy.” His smile is shy, growing slowly as they share a long glance.
More questions and Jensen finds out his name is Jared, and beneath all of the friendly interrogation, Jensen realizes that Jared isn’t used to this sort of thing. Even if he seems to be thoroughly enjoying it.
Jensen isn’t used to this either and he’s more than enjoying it. He’s living for it.
*
The businessman from earlier returns when they’re finishing their second round together.
Jensen is light and warm, a nice buzz running through his system. Jared’s laugh is careful yet pleasant and he’s scooted over to the next stool so they’re seated hip to hip at the bar.
Jared is in the middle of predicting the Knicks’ upcoming stretch of twelve games on the road and Jensen is happily waiting on his every word, stowing those thoughts away for his day job.
Then the interruption comes with the businessman squeezing into the minor bit of space to the left, grabbing hold of Jensen’s forearm and squeezing. “Hey, didn’t mean to leave you for so long. You ready to get out of here?”
Jensen’s eyes widen and he holds himself still as he considers how to respond. Time and quiet stretches between them until he finally apologies and shifts towards the man, if only to limit the reaction and Jared’s view. “Sorry, but something has come up.”
“I’m not sure what your rate is,” the man says none too quietly. He makes a show of looking around Jared before cruelly smiling at Jensen. “But I’ve got deep pockets. I’ll make it worth your evening.”
Forcing a smile, Jensen narrows his eyes to make his point. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
The man looks between Jared and Jensen quite a few times, making Jensen’s spine straighten as worry floods him over the next step in this situation.
“Just another cheap whore,” the guy spits out. He glares at them harshly as he leaves, which makes it uneasy, yet Jensen is thankful it’s over quite quickly.
Jensen attempts a chuckle and shrug, but Jared just stares at him. Waits a while until he asks, “You get that a lot?”
Now he tries waving it off like he has no clue what the situation is. Except Jared is no longer warm and open. His shoulders pull in and he keeps looking back to the Knicks game, like they weren’t just getting to know each other like any two adults could at any bar or club across the city.
Jensen immediately defends, “No, look, that’s not what it looks like.”
“It’s fine. I should’ve guessed.”
“Why?”
“I mean … a guy like you? Trying to hit on me?” Jared huffs out a breath. “Definitely a prostitute.”
“Escort,” Jensen answers, flinching immediately. The room seems to have gone cold and dark.
Or maybe that’s just Jared’s disposition. With an angry laugh, Jared shakes his head. “Is there really a difference?”
Jensen definitely thinks there is. A different level of clientele for one. The sophistication and privacy Jensen can provide puts him into a different class. His defenses are clashing with his want to go back just five minutes, before that other guy stepped in and tore up Jensen’s chances at a real connection.
“How much does it cost anyway?” Jared asks just before taking a long sip of his drink.
As calmly as possible, and instilling some real warmth in his voice, Jensen slowly responds. “I wasn’t trying to pick you up.”
“How much?”
“Jared, I swear …” Jensen drifts off when Jared brings his wallet out to drop a few twenties on the bar.
The way Jared holds it open, showing off plenty more bills, makes Jensen think of every other opening transaction with his regulars. The ones who like to flash cash to show him just what they’re hoping to buy.
Jensen would never say it aloud, but he’s sure his heart shatters at that precise moment. To have met a guy in more innocent circumstances, feel something brewing between them, only to be torn apart by what can be bought.
There are more times than he’d like to count when he wonders if there’s more to him than the way his lips look around someone’s dick or how far he can bend over.
“For the night?” Jared asks, breaking Jensen from his tumble into the darker corners of his mind.
Jensen considers leaving without making a deal. Or even insisting it’s free tonight. But he just can’t get himself to argue against Jared. And far into the future, he’ll realize he could never walk away from him.
*
Once the door to Jared’s suite closes, Jared asks, “So how does this work?”
“Did you miss sex ed in school?” he teases.
Jared sighs with a dead look. Jensen thinks about winking at him to lessen the blow, but Jared seems to set on what’s happening and only that. “I imagine I pay first?”
“Yeah,” he replies while scoping out the room. It’s a rather extravagant room with fine furnishings, upholding Jared’s commentary on the Fortune 500 company he was here to represent. If nothing else, Jensen can enjoy this evening with Jared and the pay. “What are you interested in?”
Taking his time to answer, Jared removes his suit coat and tosses it over the back of the couch. “I don’t really know,” he admits softly. Then falls into the couch and breathes deeply. “You’re the professional.”
There’s an immediate draw to Jared that makes Jensen want to crawl right into that widespread lap and drink from the pink lips, bitten nervously for more of the evening. The professional in him, however, takes his time. He also slips out of his leather jacket, folding it neatly and resting it on the arm of a side chair as he comes closer to Jared.
Jared widens his legs, sinks lower into the couch and his suit pants pull illicitly across his crotch. Jensen subconsciously licks his lips with the dreams of tearing Jared apart with every practiced touch of his tongue.
“What do you want to do?” Jared asks, as if he knows Jensen’s mind is wandering.
Jensen sits at the coffee table, settling between Jared’s legs. Sets his hands on Jared’s knees and rubs his thumbs along the inseam of Jared’s pants. “I could just show you?”
The adam’s apple in Jared’s throat bobs obscenely and Jensen smirks, takes that as the green light to proceed.
He shifts forward to rest on his knees as he takes as much time as his patience will allow him. It isn’t much, but it seems to be more than Jared has. The guy is breathing shallowly, quickly, and sucking on his lower lip as Jensen works on Jared’s belt and undoes his pants.
The room is otherwise deathly quiet and Jensen whispers his commands for Jared to lift his hips so he can get his pants and underwear down to his ankles. Jensen is not disappointed at the sight of Jared’s dick half hard, long and thick and flushed. He slowly reaches for it, holding the weight of it in his palm like it’s fragile. And maybe Jared is. And Jensen is in this moment, too, because he wants it to be something more than a quick payday.
Jensen meets Jared’s eyes as he carefully tugs, bringing his fist to the head of Jared’s cock and back down again. He mimics much of Jared’s movements to lick his lips, rubbing them together as Jensen picks up some speed and fists him a little faster.
As Jared releases needy noises, Jensen’s mouth goes dry. He needs to taste Jared, have his sweat and skin on his mouth, so he moves in and licks at the head.
“Oh my God,” Jared whines, sounding pained and struggling for air.
“You like that?” Jensen asks, glancing up to Jared. Hiding some of his eyes under hooded eyelids really seems to egg Jared on because now he seems to have lost any semblance of control with blown pupils and his fingers digging into his bare thighs.
“Keep going,” he begs. “Please don’t stop.”
With that, Jensen dives in to swallow him down. Every trick in the book comes out to play as he curls his tongue along the hot length of Jared’s dick, sucks hard and constant and wet. When he closes his eyes Jensen can really throw himself into it and pretend this isn’t some stilted pick-up that’s turned into just another job. Like Jared isn’t another John needing Jensen’s services to get off. Like Jared is really enjoying this because it’s Jensen and that he won’t be lining Jensen’s pockets with a fat wad of cash.
Jensen gets back to the head and laves all around it, tonguing along the rim and taking his time to pull Jared apart. He listens for every one of Jared’s pitched noises, tastes the salt of Jared’s skin, feels the heat of his cock on Jensen’s tongue. Does it all over again to catalog it for Jensen’s later needs.
He could go on for far too long, yet Jared is completely unprepared when Jensen drops low to fill his mouth as far as he can. Jared’s hands fly to Jensen’s head, holding softly to the sides as he cries out, warns that he’s too close, too soon.
“If you get me off now,” Jared whines, “you have to let me fuck you later.”
It’s not what he’d expect to hear, but it’s what Jensen wants, too. To be so goddam full of dick, to have Jared all around him and pinning him to the bed. Jensen pulls back and goes back to palming Jared as he watches him doing his best to catch his breath.
“I don’t want this to be over yet,”Jared groans.
“Neither do I,” he replies, sincere and bursting with excitement. Quickly tugs at Jared’s dick. “Wanna taste you then feel you.”
Now Jared speaks untethered, words flying out of his mouth as Jensen runs his lips along the underside of Jared’s dick. “Wanna feel you, too. Get inside you, fuck you all night and in the morning. Need it so bad.”
Jensen glances up, whispers, “Me, too,” before sucking all of Jared into his mouth. Using his hand along with his mouth, he speeds up and does his best to unravel Jared and open him raw, just like Jensen can feel himself falling apart with the need to have everything Jared can give him.
When Jared comes, filling Jensen’s mouth without warning, Jensen’s mind is nowhere near reality. He’s drowning in the beautifully broken sounds Jared lets free.
*
Money doesn’t enter his mind for another six hours and even then, Jensen leaves bills on the table. It’s the first time in years he’s felt dirty accepting payment. He’s sure it won’t be the last.