Fic: Nothing Compare 2 U 1/4
Title: Nothing Compares 2 U Part 1/4
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, Homophobia
Word Count: ~ 12,000
Summary: (J2 AU Jared is 22, Jensen in 26) Jared Padalecki works for a company that fulfills the deepest fantasies of its clients, and he’s begun a contract with a new one - Jensen Ackles. His job is to keep his distance while fulfilling Jensen’s deepest desires. But dreams are dangerous things, and when fake emotions give way to real ones, the lines between fantasy and reality begin to blur.
A/N: The idea for the Dreams Come True Company is from an episode of CSI. It wormed its way into my brain, gave birth to a plot bunny, and dumped it on my doorstep to nurture. :) Also, this fic is finished. I am posting the first chapter. The other three are being beta'd as we speak. This is NOT a WIP. Special thanks to icelily01 for the early look and encouragement, and to leylamannion for saving my poor commas from abuse. :)
Chapter 1: Jared
Jared smoothed his hands down his suit-front. He breathed out slowly, trying to still his fluttering heartbeat. The car would be here at any moment. He ran a hand over the suit’s lapel, marveling at the feel of it. The client had sent the suit ahead, a beautiful thing of soft black cloth, tailored to fit him in all the right places. He rolled his shoulders. Someone must have given the client his measurements because Jared wasn’t exactly a small guy, and he could never find suits that would fit both his broad shoulders and his trim waist.
“You alright, honey?” Jared glanced sharply at Pamela, his handler with Dreams Come True. She was a pretty woman with a soothing, dark voice.
“Fine, just - “
“Nervous?” Pamela smiled, bright and reassuring.
“I’m just not sure I’m ready,” Jared said. “I mean, what if I screw up, what if I break character? What if I’m not what he pictured, or what if he’s mean, or -”
“Jared, Jared, honey,” Pamela held up her hands, laughing slightly. “Jared, you’ve been training for this for six months, and you’ve had the script for three weeks. You know what to do, what to say, you know exactly what’s going to happen tonight, so please, calm down. And what do you mean ‘not what he pictured’? Anyone who would be disappointed with you would need their goddamn head checked.”
Jared ducked his head, blushing. “Okay, okay. No more paranoia. Promise.”
There was a knock, and a dark blonde head peeked around the door. “The car’s here for you, Jared,” Pamela’s assistant, Becky, informed them. “Break a leg.” She backed out, leaving Jared trembling slightly. He looked to Pamela for reassurance.
Pamela smiled at him, soft and almost motherly. “Make his dreams come true.”
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
The car was a sleek silver Rolls Royce. The client, Jensen Ackles, was a very wealthy man, though Jared wasn’t sure what he did for a living, or if he even did anything. Pamela had told him Ackles was “old money”, the kind of guy whose children’s children’s children would never need to work. There was a partition between Jared and the driver, so he never saw the man (or woman), but that was okay with him. He was busy running through his part, the “character” he would play.
When Jared had applied at Dreams Come True, it had been a complete fluke. A pretty blonde woman about his age had stopped him in the mall and very brazenly said, “My name’s Jo. And you’re gorgeous. Take this card; I think my firm could use a guy like you.”
Jared had been completely thrown for a loop. The woman didn’t appear to be hitting on him - not that it would have gotten her anywhere, but Jared always felt uncomfortable turning women down. He usually told them straight up that he was gay because he hated the crestfallen look on a woman who could probably have any man she wanted. But Jo wasn’t hitting on him; she was offering him a job.
Jared didn’t think much of it and had slipped the card into his wallet. A few weeks later, however, he’d lost his job at the factory (damned economy), and after another desperate month of searching, he remembered pretty Jo and her business card. He pulled it out, finally taking a good look at it. It was a deep fuchsia, the text silver and swirling.
Dreams Come True
Make Your Fantasy a Reality
1-88-DAYDREAM
He’d been momentarily stunned, thinking that it was some kind of whore house. But he’d Googled it, and discovered it much more complex than that.
Dreams Come True served a very select, very rich clientele. They dealt in fantasy - they arranged a day or night, down to the last detail, to fulfill one’s deepest, darkest, non-sexual desires. It was that last part that surprised him. When Jared had gone in to the interview, the owner of the company, a handsome man named Misha, had explained it to him.
“We don’t peddle flesh, here, Jared,” he said, voice low and Zen. “Our players are never under any obligation to do anything sexual with our clients. That’s not to say they don’t; occasionally a player becomes fond of a client and is willing to go that extra step. But that is not what they pay for. Besides,” he’d said, blue eyes crinkling in a smile, leaning back in his great leather chair, “you’d be surprised how tame some people’s fantasies are.”
Tame, indeed. After his months of training - learning things like etiquette, lute-playing, Asian and European tea ceremonies, the structure of a molecule, and the details of Babe Ruth’s career - he’d been given his first assignment.
Jensen’s fantasy was a date. He wanted a man to come to his house and play as if they’d been in a relationship for years. He wanted the ease and familiarity of another person, wanted to have dinner, sit in a hot tub, drink wine and laugh. The script was fairly simple, and the only thing that was really nerve-wracking was the hot tub. But Jared had been assured that they’d both be wearing bathing suits. So really, all he had to do was smile, say a few lines, and make a lonely guy feel loved for an evening.
Easy enough.
Jared looked out the window as the car glided to a stop. They’d been driving for over an hour, out of town and into woods, to what Jared understood to be a private manor somewhere in rural Massachusetts, north of Springfield. Jared’s mouth dropped open slightly. “Manor” was right. The place was huge and palatial, made of grey stone, ivy climbing up its front. The French front doors were a rich mahogany, and the whole thing was at least three stories tall. Suddenly, Jared’s door opened, and he was looking for the first time that night at the driver.
“We’ve arrived, sir.” The driver was a stiff, English man with sandy brown hair and glasses. He didn’t wear a name tag.
“Thanks,” Jared breathed and stepped out. He walked up the front steps, nervously smoothing his clothes. Running a hand through his hair - Jensen had specifically requested that he not use product - Jared steeled himself and rang the bell.
The door opened almost instantly. Jared’s breath caught in his throat. Was this Jensen? The man before him was a vision of beauty, feminine and masculine at once, full lips and jade eyes and freckles dusted across his Roman nose. He was a good five or six years older than Jared and wearing a white Oxford, unbuttoned at the neck, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and black slacks that clung in all the right places.
After a breathless moment, the man smiled, his face lighting up like goddamned Christmas, and Jared found himself thinking he might die if this was just a butler.
“Jared?” The man’s voice was smooth, warm.
Jared nodded. “Jensen?” he replied, trying to keep the hope from creeping into his voice.
Jensen nodded, and Jared released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Jensen’s green eyes swept over Jared’s form, and he fought the urge to fidget self-consciously. “The suit… fits you.” His voice sounded slightly rougher than a moment before, and he seemed to notice, because the next moment he cleared his throat and said, “Well, come in! Dinner won’t be ready for another half-hour, but I’ve got drinks waiting for us in the drawing room.” Jensen turned, and Jared followed him. He was settling into the role now; he knew what was coming next, what to say, what to do. Smiling slightly to himself, he thought, I’m good. I can do this.
The drawing room was sumptuous with rich carpets and dark woods and a plush velvet loveseat in front of a crackling fire. Jensen sat down, and Jared followed suit, accepting the glass of wine, like the script said. Jensen settled close to Jared, his arm draped across the back of the couch. Jared could smell the man, musky and cool and masculine, juxtaposed with red lips and dark lashes, so close Jared could count them. “How’s work been?” Jared asked.
Jensen smiled, relaxing slightly. This was probably his first time as well. “The same, I suppose. My father… he keeps me around because I’m good at what I do, but I can tell he’s not happy about it.” He shrugged. “Nothing new.”
Jared gave a soft smile. “It’s his own fault if he can’t see how amazing you are.” The words came easily, drilled into him over weeks of rehearsing.
Jensen’s breath seemed to catch, eyes widening almost imperceptibly, and Jared patted himself on the back. This was going to be a piece of cake. He swirled the wine in its glass, raising it to his nose to breath in the aroma. He took a sip and thanked the stars for his hard-won tolerance of wine. He’d spent most of his training learning to like it. Glancing over, he noticed Jensen’s eyes on his mouth. Jared slowly raised the glass and took another sip, deliberately chasing the rim with his tongue. He wasn’t sure why he did it; he wasn’t told to be seductive. But Jensen was so goddamned beautiful, and he brought out every flirty instinct in Jared’s body.
“You… like it?” Jensen’s voice was breathy, soft. The sound was sexy and innocent all at once and made Jared’s heart speed up.
“Of course,” Jared replied. “You always know what I’ll like.” Jared felt Jensen’s fingers on the back of his neck, light and hesitant. This was part of the program; Jared had been told that Jensen had paid extra for the right to touch Jared as long as the touch was non-sexual and non-threatening. Jared had been nervous about that, but his instant attraction to Jensen made him pretty damn willing at that point. He leaned back into the touch, and Jensen circled his hand around the back of Jared’s neck, firm and almost possessive.
And it was turning Jared on like nobody’s business. He sharply reminded himself to be a professional, to remember that he was an actor, and that he was being paid for his services.
“Are you cold?”
“Yes,” Jared replied, “a little.” Jensen pulled a soft flannel blanket off the back of the couch, draping it across them both. Jared could feel the heat coming off Jensen’s body, and he instinctively leaned closer, chasing it. Jensen’s hand traced lazy circles on Jared’s arm, and he closed his eyes. It had been a long time since Jared had been on a date, let alone been touched. He sighed and settled against Jensen’s side.
“You’re beautiful,” Jensen breathed into Jared’s hair.
“Not as beautiful as you.” Jared’s eyes snapped open. That wasn’t in the script. He was just supposed to blush and say “Thank you” and act coy whenever he was complimented. But Jensen didn’t seem to notice. Jared closed his eyes again, resolving to control himself. Jeez, one pretty face and he was utterly useless.
Jensen fell silent, and Jared soaked in the ambiance, the sound and smell of the fire and the solid warmth of the body pressing against his. He’d never been this comfortable with another man, let alone one he’d just met. The minutes meandered by, and Jared almost forgot what he was doing there. But soon, too soon, Jensen was nudging him in the side. “Dinner’s ready,” he said. “Come on.”
Jared stood, placing his glass on the coffee table. He followed Jensen to the dining room, trying not to stare at his firm, round ass in his tight slacks. Jensen told him to sit and then headed off to the kitchen. He returned with the food a few moments later, and the smell hit Jared like wave. There was roast duck, steamed vegetables, soft baked rolls and more wine. A plate was placed in front of him, and Jared waited until Jensen was seated. “It smells amazing,” he said, meaning every word.
Jensen smiled. “Not as amazing as you.”
Jensen, as it turned out, was an excellent cook. Not only that, but he was interesting. He told Jared all about the time he spent traveling Europe after he had graduated high school, about his year studying Latin in Rome when he was in college and his record collection (Zeppelin and Credence and Dylan, oh my!). He didn’t ask about Jared but he wasn’t really supposed to. It might ruin the illusion.
They talked and laughed long after the plates were cleaned until Jensen glanced at his watch and said, “Oh… we should probably… you’ll have to… leave soon.” He cleared his throat, and Jared refused to fidget.
He was having fun, and Jensen seemed so lonely, and he didn’t want to let him feel awkward on top of it. “I was promised a hot tub,” he said, his voice coy. It was another deviation from the script, but Jared didn’t think Jensen would mind.
In fact, Jensen smiled at him. “You’re right; I did promise that, didn’t I?” His green eyes sparkled with mischief, and it sent lust coiling through Jared’s gut. Jared nodded. “Well,” Jensen continued, standing up, “let’s go, then.”
The hot tub was upstairs in Jensen’s bedroom. The carpeted area gave way to black marble, and the tub was set in the floor. It was made of the same marble and was large and gleaming. Water was already bubbling in it, steam rising and curling to the ceiling. Jared changed in the bathroom into the small black Speedo that he was supposed to wear. When he came back out, he saw that Jensen was already in the water, leaned back against the side of the tub, arms stretched to either side, his eyes closed. Jared took a moment to admire Jensen’s pale throat, his sculpted chest and arms, the long, dark lashes like lace across his cheekbones. “You gonna stare all night?” Jared jumped at the sound of Jensen’s voice, dark and slow and almost lazy. “Or are you gonna join me?”
Jared felt himself grinning, and he hopped over to the tub. Lowering himself into the water, he groaned as the heat poured over his skin. He sat next to Jensen, who opened his eyes and turned to him, gaze dark. “How about dessert?” Jared shivered at the heat and lust in Jensen’s rough voice.
“S-sure.” Jared tried not to tremble, tried to be professional. No one had ever affected him like this. He’d had crushes and he’d lusted after guys, but he’d never been so utterly and completely turned on by a stranger before. Jensen spread his legs and motioned for Jared to sit between them. Jared did as he was told, settling between strong thighs, his back resting on Jensen’s chest. Jensen reached to the side, to an antique silver platter Jared hadn’t noticed before. It was covered in truffles and fruit and cheese, with a bowl of chocolate sauce in the center. Jensen selected a dark chocolate truffle and brought it to Jared’s lips, his other arm circling Jared’s waist.
Jared opened his mouth, and the truffle was set on his tongue. It was dusted with bitter cocoa powder, but the chocolate beneath was rich and sweet, and he moaned slightly at the taste, his tongue chasing Jensen’s fingers as they retreated. Jensen gasped, and his hips twitched, and Jared’s face burned. Keep it professional, dumbass, he scolded himself.
For a few moments, Jensen just sat quietly and breathed hot and wet into Jared’s hair, sending goose bumps rippling down Jared’s back. Jensen’s arm reached again, and Jared found it hard to breathe. He was so turned on it hurt, his erection straining against the too-tight briefs. This time, Jensen picked up a small piece of cheese, and dipped it into the chocolate. He brought it to Jared’s mouth, sauce dripping down his fingers. Jared opened obediently, and even though he thought it would taste weird, it was actually really good, and without thinking, he tried to lick the sauce off Jensen’s fingers.
Jensen’s breath hitched again, and this time there was a definite thrust to his hips, and suddenly Jared could feel his arousal, pressing hot and hard against his ass. When Jensen moved his hand back to the tray this time, he didn’t pick up any of the other items. Instead, he just dipped two fingers right into the sauce. Bringing them to Jared’s lips, he smeared a streak across his bottom lip. Jared licked it off, then turned and looked Jensen right in the eye, before opening his mouth sucking his fingers in, swirling his tongue around them.
Jensen’s eyes were blown wide, more pupil than iris, and his mouth hung open as he watched his fingers disappear into Jared’s wide mouth, watched him suck them in like it was the best thing in the world. Jensen’s grip on Jared’s waist tightened, and he thrust up against Jared again, and Jared rocked his hips back, matching the motion. Jared’s hand dropped to his lap, under the water, where his erection throbbed, harder than he’d ever been in his life. Jared stroked himself over the bathing suit, and pushed his hips back against Jensen, and God, he wasn’t going to last long.
Jensen’s gaze faltered, and his body shook as he neared the edge. Jared sucked harder on his fingers, and Jensen thrust faster, breath coming in gasps. He lowered his head and buried his face in Jared’s hair as he came with a full-body convulsion, quiet moan giving way to a sob, and Jared followed him over it, their bodies shaking almost in sync with each other, Jensen’s fingers sliding from his mouth with a wet pop.
As he came down, Jared wondered if that sob was real. It had sounded real. He wondered for the first time why Jensen needed a guy like him, why someone as interesting and as beautiful as Jensen would need to pay a man to spend the evening with him. Jared dropped his hand to Jensen’s strong thigh, massaging in a slow circle, feeling Jensen’s body relax bit by bit. Finally Jensen raised his head, and there was a definite sheen to his eyes, unshed tears making the green sparkle. Jensen seemed a little out of it; he stared at Jared’s mouth for several moments before saying in a rough, raspy voice, “You’ve got chocolate sauce on your lip.”
Jared didn’t hesitate. He leaned up to kiss him. Jensen’s eyes tried to focus on him, and Jared could see the desire there, but at the last minute, the older man turned his head away. Jensen cleared his throat and said, “It’s… our appointment’s almost over. We should probably get dressed.”
Jared smiled and nodded, trying not to let his disappointment show. He hauled himself up the side of the tub and padded off to the bathroom. He dried off and got dressed, taking his time, not really wanting to leave. But then again, Jensen had refused that kiss; he was probably nothing more than a rent-boy to him. The thought made Jared a little sad. Jensen was kind of amazing, and it sucked that for whatever reason he was stuck ordering company out of a catalogue.
When he returned to the bedroom, Jensen was dressed and standing near the door, hands in his pockets. “I’ll, uh… walk you back to the car.”
Jared just nodded and followed Jensen down the hall. Too soon, they reached the door, where the Rolls still sat, sleek and shining in the moonlight. Jensen opened the door, and Jared walked out onto the stoop. Turning around, he said, “I had fun tonight. And I… I mean that.”
Jensen bit his lip, and dear God, all Jared wanted to do was toss him back inside and ravish him till he screamed. Instead, he just fidgeted, waiting for Jensen to speak. Finally, he said, “So did I. More than… more than I’d intended.” Jared blushed, but Jensen just smiled a little sadly and continued, “Thanks… for tonight. I haven’t been able to just sit and have dinner with someone in years. It was… it was amazing. You’re amazing. So thank you.”
Jared grinned, and raised his hand in farewell. “See you later.”
It wasn’t until he was in the car, gliding through the woods back to the city, that he realized how desperately he really meant those last words.
Too bad it could never happen.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
The next morning, Jared walked into the office and was immediately greeted by a radiant Pamela. “I don’t know what the hell you did last night, kid,” she said, “but Mr. Ackles just booked all your appointments for the next year.”
Jared’s heart felt like it had stopped. “He did? But - I thought we weren’t supposed to see anyone more than once; I thought the fantasies were just one-time things.”
Pamela shook her head. “It’s not unheard of for clients to request repeat visits. I mean, if you had your fantasy fulfilled, wouldn’t you want to do it again?” Before Jared could answer, she continued cheerily, “Besides, he paid twice your normal fee for the privilege. The least we could do is oblige him, right?”
Glancing around, Jared said, “Hey, Pam, can I talk to you… in private?”
Pamela’s smile slid from her face, but she nodded. “Sure. We can talk in my office.” Once she’d shut the door behind them, she turned and said sharply, “You fucked him, didn’t you?”
“Wh-what? I - what? No!” Jared spluttered. “No, Pam, I didn’t fuck him, I…” Sighing, he sat down in one of the plush leather chairs. She leaned on her desk, arms crossed, lips pursed, and waited. “I didn’t have sex with him,” Jared said. “But we did… fool around a little.”
Pamela nodded. “I see. And would you have fucked him, if he’d asked?”
Jared was ready to say, “No!” firmly and loudly, but it would be a blatant lie. “Probably,” he said finally.
“Look, Jared,” she began delicately, “your first client is kind of a rough thing. You either hate it, or…”
“Or what?” he asked sharply. “You start getting your own fantasy about a Pretty Woman type of thing?” Pamela shrugged. “I’m not in love with him,” he said. “But yeah, he’s really goddamn sexy. And yeah, I’m attracted to him. But I can be a professional about this, Pam. I swear.”
“So, I take it you want to authorize these appointments?”
Jared didn’t hesitate. “Definitely.”
Pamela sighed, standing up straight. “Alright, kid. You’ll be seeing Jensen Ackles twice a month for the next eight months. I hope you know what you’re doing.”