SPN - Their Heads Shall Be Crowned (RPS, Jared/Jensen, NC-17)
Title: Their Heads Shall Be Crowned
Author: kitsune_kitana
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Warnings: RPS, whore!fic, major consent issues, d/s, angst
Word Count: 3873
Summary: Jared's not good at holding himself back and Jensen's not good at saying no.
Sequel to Under the Wartime. Title taken from a line in Ginsberg's "Howl". I was sick of seeing this sit on my hard drive, so I'm releasing it into the ether. Apologies for the roughness.
It's inevitable, the nights after Jared hires Jensen, that he wakes up almost paralyzed with guilt.
It's a sick feeling that curls in his stomach as he looks at Jensen sleeping on the bed, very different than the hot tendrils of pleasure that whispered from his chest down to his groin when he'd been in the moment just minutes before; he'd been intoxicated by the smell of Jensen's fear, his pain, the breathy, whimpering sobs that fell from Jensen's lips while Jared hurt him. Now, the smaller man sleeps fitfully on the bed beside Jared, hands clenched in the sheets and a frown marring his face. Jared doesn't know what to do.
He wouldn't call himself a cruel man. He doesn't know where this urge comes from. It's an impulse that sits deep inside him, quiescent, a desire that rouses itself slowly between Excel sheets and client meetings and long nights working to secure that last account for the firm. He thinks this time it was the sudden and startling realization that the young executive sitting at the table across from him had a spattering of freckles across his cheeks, completely incongruent with his perfectly knotted tie and expensive-looking suit. A hot needle of twisted desire had shot down to his groin and he'd grown hard underneath the table. It'd made him laugh, feeling excited and a little dangerous, and the man across from him had joined in, unsure of the humor but not wanting to look slow on the uptake. Jared ached with the sudden urge to break through that bravado, that faked ease, to find the raw, pulsing, frightened man underneath. The instinct left a bitter taste in his mouth, like iron, or--
He remembers holding Jensen down, pressing his hips forcefully to the bed as Jensen shuddered and tried to arch away, taking that soft, reddened dick into his mouth just feel the heat emanating from it, the heat he had put there with his flogger, with his hands.
And that's the thing: when Jared gets this urge, he doesn't seek out just anyone. He wants that hooker who first caught his eye in one of the worst areas downtown as he stood leaning against the brick wall of a run down building, hip cocked out as someone Jared presumed was another john groped a hand shamelessly underneath his shirt. He remembers, distinctly, the hard press of Jensen's nipples against the thin cloth and how much he wanted that vulnerable flesh between his fingers.
“I want to hurt you,” Jared confessed beforehand. “I want to make you cry.” He didn't know where the compulsion to say that aloud that had come from, but he was sure that he meant it, the admission settling itself snugly somewhere inside him. Jensen had just grinned back.
"Sure thing, pretty boy," he'd said. "You just pay for what you want and we won't have any problems."
They'd fucked then and there, in the back of Jared's car like desperate teenagers, except Jared had kept a broad hand wrapped tightly around Jensen's throat, squeezing as he shoved into the pliant body beneath him. The thrill was unlike anything Jared ever encountered before. He'd watched afterwards, content, as Jensen hitched his pants back up around his hips, wincing almost inperceptibly.
"Wait," Jared had called out, rearing up when Jensen's hand went for the door handle. Pressing himself all along the back of the smaller man's body, Jared had reached around and pressed a single bill up against Jensen's chest. He'd seen Jensen arch an eyebrow in the reflection of the window when he looked down and took in the denomination. Jared ran his own hand downwards and between Jensen's legs after he took the bill, squeezing around the shape of Jensen's balls through the denim, pushing the heel of his hand against the bulge of Jensen's prick. "Consider it a tip," he'd whispered. Somewhere else inside he'd been amazed at his own audacity, but at that moment Jared was aching in this new-found desire, like a gaping hole had opened within him, was pulsing in his chest pushing him to strike out, to take possession of the man before him. If money was what was going to get him there, Jared wasn't hurting for cash. This was a game he could afford to play.
And since then, things haven't changed much, Jared observes, afraid to touch the body next to him for fear of disturbing Jensen from his sleep. He deserves to rest after the night he just had.
He still has the same sick urge to own Jensen, to lay him low and break him to Jared's hand. He realizes now, though, how close that came to actuality the night before. Jensen had cried and pleaded for Jared to stop, and then when he couldn't manage even that through the pain, how he'd just wailed, hurt sounds like small, frightened child. These are the things that should've given Jared pause, that should've made him stop, but in the ardor of the moment they'd only driven him deeper into his frenzy. This thing inside him, Jared decides as he has decided many times over, is repulsive in its wrongness. He wishes he could fight it.
On impulse, Jared gently tugs the sheets out of Jensen's hands, which Jensen releases with an unhappy murmur, slowly dragging it down his body until his bare skin is revealed. Jared can see the marks he's left, where the tails of the flogger bit into skin too deeply, a welt just under Jensen's nipple and deeper lines across this thighs. He runs his finger along the one on Jensen's chest, and watches as his nipple hardens to a crinkled point before Jensen whimpers and turns on his side, curling an arm close into his heart. The move is so innocent, so vulnerable, that Jared feels a sharp pain in his chest, a dawning horror at his actions.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, laying a gentle kiss on Jensen's side. He follows that kiss with more, tracing the soft skin down Jensen's waist where ribs press more prominently than they should against the skin, a hip that leads to the swell of his ass. When Jared leans down, he can see the roundness of Jensen's balls peeking between his thighs, and remembering his earlier abuse, cannot help but place his lips against this too. The skin is unimaginably soft, and with a moan, Jared opens his mouth, presses his tongue against that sweet, vulnerable spot.
It's this that wakes Jensen with a sharply inhaled breath, his body already recoiling against Jared, hands going down to push Jared's head away. But instead, Jared uses his greater weight to maneuver Jensen onto his back and himself between Jensen's legs, hands moving under the smaller man's thighs.
"Stop," Jensen whispers. His voice is hoarse. Jared remembers Jensen screaming the night before against the relentless rise and fall of the flogger against his skin. His hands still push ineffectually against Jared's chest, but his head is turned away, unwilling to make eye contact or perhaps--Jared suspects that he saw wetness already rising in Jensen's eyes.
"Shh, Jensen, just--"
"Fuck. Off." Jensen speaks more forcefully this time, but his voice still comes out painfully. "I made it through the whole fucking night, so don't even think about not paying me." His voice breaks on the last word and Jared can see Jensen clench his jaw shut in anger, so Jared brings up his hands to sooth, smooths his palms against hip and thigh while Jensen twitches angrily against him.
"I'll pay for this time, too," Jared promises.
Jensen snorts. "I don't think I can take another lovefest like last night so soon, buddy. Get your hands off me."
Jared rises onto his knees and reaches over Jensen to the bedside table. He can hear the hitch of Jensen's breath, feel him flinch at having Jared's mass over him, pressing down onto him, but all Jared does is snag his wallet before sitting back onto his heels. He rifles perfunctorily through the contents and lays a stack of bills on Jensen's belly. "For last night," Jared explains before adding a few more onto the stack. "For your morning?" He makes it a question, and watches as Jensen leans up onto his elbows and counts the bills. Jared imagines that he's measuring this against his most demanding needs. Rent, probably, and food, considering the leanness of the body beneath him. Jared doubts that he does drugs--the skin of his arms are clean--but he can't really tell. Regardless, the amount of money Jared just put down should cover all of that easily on the short term.
"Nothing rough?" Jensen asks, and Jared nods, acquiescing.
Finally, eyes lowered, Jensen nods. He folds the money and places it back onto the bedside table before laying back wearily. "What do you want now, big guy?"
Jared grins, not even wavering when Jensen flinches and looks away. "I just want you."
He knows that he hasn't earned this. The things that Jared has done to him in the past, the things he did to Jensen last night, in a just world would mean that he has no right to lay a hand on Jensen ever again. But he can't help that drive, that hunger that makes him want to lay claim to Jensen, to mark out his territory on Jensen's skin. And Jensen can't help that he can't say no to bastards like Jared who want to pay for his body. Jared is aware of how lucky he is: the one man he wants to inflict his desires on was also one of the few desperate enough to allow Jared to do so.
So he puts his hands back underneath Jensen's thighs and pushes them up to his chest, spreading him wide. Holding Jensen open like this exposes a wide expanse of skin to his eyes, the slope of his buttocks, the round curve of his balls, the swollen bud of his anus. The skin is red and angry looking, hot to the touch when Jared presses gently with his fingertips and still tacky from the night before.
He can feel Jensen hiss, see the play of tensed muscles in his stomach, the sense memory of pushing his fingers in and out of Jensen's well-fucked hole playing back in his mind. Jared catches the pad of his thumb on the rim of swollen muscle.
"S-stop," Jensen whispers. His expression is uncomfortable, gaze turned to the side. Jared moves his hand and strokes at the smooth skin behind Jensen's balls.
"Stop what?"
"Just stop--this," Jensen stutters. "Stop fucking with me and just get on with it already. I don't need--dammit, I just want to get this over with, grab a shower and go home." There is something plaintive in his voice, and its hard for Jared to decide if he's more offended or ashamed. Instead, he leans down and presses his lips against the skin of Jensen's belly.
"Okay," he murmurs, moving down, kissing new skin inch by inch. Head between the vee of Jensen's thighs, he brushes his lips against the velvet of Jensen's prick, sucking gentle kisses along the shaft.
He can see that Jensen is trying not to react; the muscles of his legs are tense against Jared's hands even though his organ twitches half-interestedly in response to Jared's oral ministrations. He takes Jensen's soft cock into his mouth, recalling how hard he'd fucked into the smaller man's mouth the night before, like he was trying to get his entire dick down the column of Jensen's throat. Jared moans at this thought, flicking his tongue at the soft head, marveling at how undemanding Jensen has to be where Jared was allowed to take by force, how easy it is to play at being submissive when he knows that the truth is something altogether different. Jensen is slowly but surely responding, tremors moving up his thighs, and it feels so good to dig his fingers into those muscles, feel Jensen arch up into his mouth as if trying to find a place to fit deeper inside his mouth. Jared loves that fullness, that point where he's almost gagging, trying to take more of that sweet, soft skin in.
He pulls back with a wet suck and looks up. Jensen's face is flushed. His hands are gripping the sheets on either side of him, white-knuckled. His cock is arching upwards, slender and shining with Jared's saliva.
"Is this okay?" Jared asks, running the tip of his finger against the ridge where the head of Jensen's cock meets the shaft. A bead of precum wells up at the tip and Jared smears it across the pink flesh of the head, then leans down to lick the fluid off with a swipe of his tongue. He can feel Jensen's hips shudder as he pushes against the small slit at the tip like he's trying to find a way in.
"Could you--," Jensen whispers. His eyes are closed again. "I just---ahhh--" His voice trembles as Jared keeps tonguing at the tip, sucking just the head into his mouth and bringing his eyes up. "I'm just a little sore," he finishes, the first notes of discomfort entering his voice. Jared continues hungrily as Jensen's knees start to lower and come together, as if the stimulation is too much.
Jared pulls off with a pop, and brings his hand up to begin roughly frigging Jensen's cock. "Look at me," he says, his voice gruff with need. Green eyes meet his even as Jensen's hips squirm away from his hand.
"I want you to sit still while I touch you. Open your legs for me."
It's too easy, Jared thinks as he hears the smaller man groan, watches him force his hips to still and his knees to spread open. All of this comes too easily to Jared; he can take and hurt and humiliate, and Jensen will just lay back and spread for him with one eye on Jared's fist and the other on his wallet. If money is the only obstacle between owning something so completely, how can he control himself, Jared wonders as he strokes the fingers of one hand over Jensen's hole as the other continues to pump at Jensen's cock, watching his hips stutter, confused whether he should arch forward or pull away. Jared can still feel the tenderness of that small opening, and he wants to bend down and seal his mouth over it, thrust his tongue in to sooth the ache he knows still lingers. He knows even better after last night where Jensen's limits are and just how much he can push before the man breaks.
"I can't--" Jensen whimpers. "Please, can I--Can I come? Let me come, please." His balls are pulled up, tight, and Jared chokes out a clipped, "Yes, now," before Jensen is spurting through Jared's fingers.
Jared watches Jensen's face, twisted like he's in pain, as he milks Jensen's cock, coaxing every last string of cum from him and then through the the shuddering aftershocks that twitch through his thighs. He looks at his hand where it's rubbing the fluid back onto Jensen's reddened prick, loving the hitches of his hips as he moves to avoid Jared's continued stimulation of his too-sensitive flesh. Jared wants to cover Jensen in his own cum, wants to rub it into his skin until it seeps into his pores, until Jensen knows who he belongs to in every crevice of his body.
Jensen opens his mouth when Jared raises his hand, obediently taking Jared's fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean of his own semen. It isn't until Jensen shifts over, head nudging towards Jared's lap, that Jared realizes he's achingly hard, but he's not surprised. His cock bobs eagerly until soft, wet heat closes over the head. Jared trails his fingers along the muscles of Jensen's back, then up to cup his jaw, feeling Jensen's mouth working on the head of Jared's dick. Maybe he could be happy with this too, Jared thinks, probing until he feels the sweet press of Jensen's lips right where they meet his cock. He could feel the slickness on his shaft before Jensen surges forward, taking more of him in. Maybe, Jared pondered, he could satisfy himself with just the softness of this tongue, the surrender of Jensen's open mouth, his canted up hips; maybe he didn't have to push for pain, or terror, or tears. Jared feels his balls tighten, and he comes in Jensen's mouth with a quiet sigh, both hoping that this feeling of satiation would last and knowing that it won't.
Jared slumps back on the bed, feeling warm, almost hot, his vision gone golden and liquid. When he raises Jensen's head with a hand underneath his chin, he can see that Jensen's eyes are glassy with post-orgasm euphoria.
"Let's get cleaned up," Jared suggests, unable to resist sliding the pad of his fingers against Jensen's reddened mouth. "And then I'll drive you back."
He propels himself off the bed, shifting to stand on Jensen's side to watch him groan as Jensen moves against the welts from the night before, doubtless still sore all over. When he stumbles, Jared catches him, leans Jensen against his hip, an arm around his waist as he carries them both towards the bathroom. Jensen stands with a hand on the wall as Jared turns on the shower. He won't meed Jared's eyes, even when they step in and stand under the shower head, when Jared wraps his arms around Jensen's waist from behind, laying gentle kisses where his neck meets his shoulder.
"Man, I just want to shower--" Jensen begins, but Jared shushes him.
"Nothing's going to happen," he says, reassuringly. "We're just getting clean again."
This involves soap, of course, which Jared lathers up between his palms. He starts with Jensen's back, then moves around to Jensen's chest. He knows he's found the nubs of Jensen's nipples when Jensen gasps; they're still a little swollen from their rough treatment the night before, but Jared rolls the flesh between thumb and forefinger until they're pebbled and Jensen is moaning.
"Please," Jensen whispers, and Jared turns him by his hips to face the shower wall.
"Hands up, Jensen. Spread your legs."
Jensen moves slowly, pressing his palms against the wet tile, leaning into it and spreading his legs. Jared stands behind him and knows that he could fuck him now, that Jensen expects it. He can see Jensen's cock dangling between his parted thighs, and it would be so easy to push the head of his prick between those cheeks and into that sore little hole he'd treated so roughly the night before. Jared shudders and instead pushes soapy hands in, runs gentle fingers in that crevice and Jensen moans, part fear and part pain as Jared touches him. Jared can feel that the opening is hot, can see that it's still red and a little distended from all the fucking.
He crouches down, pushes a finger in, gently, and hears Jensen gasp. Moving slowly in and out, he can feel the smoothness of Jensen's inner flesh, the heat that emanates from it, and he nudges in a second finger, twisting, then scissoring them open so that he can glimpse that pink, vulnerable skin, see the thin skin around the rim stretch to encompass his prodding. Jared's breath catches when he realizes that he's looking inside the other man, looking at something that wasn't meant to be seen, and he fucks in with his fingers again, wondering if he could feel his come inside Jensen from the night before. This hole is basically his, Jared thinks. He can have it any time he likes, and he thinks about hiring Jensen to stand beside his desk as he works, bent over, spreading himself open so that Jared can look at this little place he likes to fuck, maybe stick in his fingers when he wants, some pens from his desk or a vibrator. Jared pulls his fingers out with a groan, using his palms against slippery, wet skin to pry Jensen's cheeks apart and press his own face in, push his tongue inside that hurt hole and fuck him with it.
Jensen whimpers above him, thrusting back onto his tongue. He tastes musky, Jared notes, but clean, and Jared eats him until Jensen's moans reach a crescendo. His climax is small having come so soon after their exploits on the bed, but Jared watches the semen wash down the drain with satisfaction, manhandling Jensen back upright and against his body before pressing the shampoo bottle into Jensen's shaking hands.
"I'm sure you know how to use this," he smirks, thrusting his semi-hard cock against the small of Jensen's back. He doesn't allow the smaller man to move away as he washes his hair, reaching a hand down just to hold Jensen's genitals in his hand as Jensen cleans himself. Then, he hands Jensen the soap and stands there as Jensen bathes him, watches him go to his knees to wash up Jared's calves, his thighs, up to Jared's crotch where he cleans the instrument of his assault the night before with careful hands.
A darker part of himself revels in this submission, and for a moment Jared indulges it. He imagines reaching down and grabbing Jensen by the hair, grasping his cock and pissing all over him, urine running over welted skin. He can already see Jensen's shocked face as he pushes him back against the wall, forcing his dick inside that swollen hole and pissing there too, making Jensen hold it in until his legs shake and tears of humiliation run down his face.
But Jared knows that these are tasks that require negotiation and a prior exchange of money, and instead he just says hoarsely, "Kiss it," and Jensen knowingly lowers his head and presses his lips to the balls cupped in his hands, the shaft of Jared's thick cock, then the flared head.
This appeases him a little, his immediate need to hurt and humiliate receding, but Jared keeps Jensen on his knees, mouth his crotch, Jensen's hands resting on his hips as he washes his own hair. He turns off the shower when he's done, stepping out and handing Jensen a towel before drying himself off. They get dressed in silence, and Jensen walks over to the bed, sitting down to collect the money he'd earned and counting through it again before folding the bills and sliding them into his pocket.
Jared watches as he does this, and he wonders, karmically, where he stands now. He thinks of his money in Jensen's pocket now allowing Jensen to feed himself, to pay his rent. He thinks of all the other men Jensen would've had to fuck in order to make what he did with Jared in one night. And, not coming up with any answers, he walks out of the bedroom to grab his keys from the kitchen counter.
"Are you good to go?" he calls out, and Jensen follows his voice out of the bedroom.
"Yeah," Jensen says roughly. "I think we're done here."
Jared nods curtly, and they leave.
Author: kitsune_kitana
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Warnings: RPS, whore!fic, major consent issues, d/s, angst
Word Count: 3873
Summary: Jared's not good at holding himself back and Jensen's not good at saying no.
Sequel to Under the Wartime. Title taken from a line in Ginsberg's "Howl". I was sick of seeing this sit on my hard drive, so I'm releasing it into the ether. Apologies for the roughness.
It's inevitable, the nights after Jared hires Jensen, that he wakes up almost paralyzed with guilt.
It's a sick feeling that curls in his stomach as he looks at Jensen sleeping on the bed, very different than the hot tendrils of pleasure that whispered from his chest down to his groin when he'd been in the moment just minutes before; he'd been intoxicated by the smell of Jensen's fear, his pain, the breathy, whimpering sobs that fell from Jensen's lips while Jared hurt him. Now, the smaller man sleeps fitfully on the bed beside Jared, hands clenched in the sheets and a frown marring his face. Jared doesn't know what to do.
He wouldn't call himself a cruel man. He doesn't know where this urge comes from. It's an impulse that sits deep inside him, quiescent, a desire that rouses itself slowly between Excel sheets and client meetings and long nights working to secure that last account for the firm. He thinks this time it was the sudden and startling realization that the young executive sitting at the table across from him had a spattering of freckles across his cheeks, completely incongruent with his perfectly knotted tie and expensive-looking suit. A hot needle of twisted desire had shot down to his groin and he'd grown hard underneath the table. It'd made him laugh, feeling excited and a little dangerous, and the man across from him had joined in, unsure of the humor but not wanting to look slow on the uptake. Jared ached with the sudden urge to break through that bravado, that faked ease, to find the raw, pulsing, frightened man underneath. The instinct left a bitter taste in his mouth, like iron, or--
He remembers holding Jensen down, pressing his hips forcefully to the bed as Jensen shuddered and tried to arch away, taking that soft, reddened dick into his mouth just feel the heat emanating from it, the heat he had put there with his flogger, with his hands.
And that's the thing: when Jared gets this urge, he doesn't seek out just anyone. He wants that hooker who first caught his eye in one of the worst areas downtown as he stood leaning against the brick wall of a run down building, hip cocked out as someone Jared presumed was another john groped a hand shamelessly underneath his shirt. He remembers, distinctly, the hard press of Jensen's nipples against the thin cloth and how much he wanted that vulnerable flesh between his fingers.
“I want to hurt you,” Jared confessed beforehand. “I want to make you cry.” He didn't know where the compulsion to say that aloud that had come from, but he was sure that he meant it, the admission settling itself snugly somewhere inside him. Jensen had just grinned back.
"Sure thing, pretty boy," he'd said. "You just pay for what you want and we won't have any problems."
They'd fucked then and there, in the back of Jared's car like desperate teenagers, except Jared had kept a broad hand wrapped tightly around Jensen's throat, squeezing as he shoved into the pliant body beneath him. The thrill was unlike anything Jared ever encountered before. He'd watched afterwards, content, as Jensen hitched his pants back up around his hips, wincing almost inperceptibly.
"Wait," Jared had called out, rearing up when Jensen's hand went for the door handle. Pressing himself all along the back of the smaller man's body, Jared had reached around and pressed a single bill up against Jensen's chest. He'd seen Jensen arch an eyebrow in the reflection of the window when he looked down and took in the denomination. Jared ran his own hand downwards and between Jensen's legs after he took the bill, squeezing around the shape of Jensen's balls through the denim, pushing the heel of his hand against the bulge of Jensen's prick. "Consider it a tip," he'd whispered. Somewhere else inside he'd been amazed at his own audacity, but at that moment Jared was aching in this new-found desire, like a gaping hole had opened within him, was pulsing in his chest pushing him to strike out, to take possession of the man before him. If money was what was going to get him there, Jared wasn't hurting for cash. This was a game he could afford to play.
And since then, things haven't changed much, Jared observes, afraid to touch the body next to him for fear of disturbing Jensen from his sleep. He deserves to rest after the night he just had.
He still has the same sick urge to own Jensen, to lay him low and break him to Jared's hand. He realizes now, though, how close that came to actuality the night before. Jensen had cried and pleaded for Jared to stop, and then when he couldn't manage even that through the pain, how he'd just wailed, hurt sounds like small, frightened child. These are the things that should've given Jared pause, that should've made him stop, but in the ardor of the moment they'd only driven him deeper into his frenzy. This thing inside him, Jared decides as he has decided many times over, is repulsive in its wrongness. He wishes he could fight it.
On impulse, Jared gently tugs the sheets out of Jensen's hands, which Jensen releases with an unhappy murmur, slowly dragging it down his body until his bare skin is revealed. Jared can see the marks he's left, where the tails of the flogger bit into skin too deeply, a welt just under Jensen's nipple and deeper lines across this thighs. He runs his finger along the one on Jensen's chest, and watches as his nipple hardens to a crinkled point before Jensen whimpers and turns on his side, curling an arm close into his heart. The move is so innocent, so vulnerable, that Jared feels a sharp pain in his chest, a dawning horror at his actions.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, laying a gentle kiss on Jensen's side. He follows that kiss with more, tracing the soft skin down Jensen's waist where ribs press more prominently than they should against the skin, a hip that leads to the swell of his ass. When Jared leans down, he can see the roundness of Jensen's balls peeking between his thighs, and remembering his earlier abuse, cannot help but place his lips against this too. The skin is unimaginably soft, and with a moan, Jared opens his mouth, presses his tongue against that sweet, vulnerable spot.
It's this that wakes Jensen with a sharply inhaled breath, his body already recoiling against Jared, hands going down to push Jared's head away. But instead, Jared uses his greater weight to maneuver Jensen onto his back and himself between Jensen's legs, hands moving under the smaller man's thighs.
"Stop," Jensen whispers. His voice is hoarse. Jared remembers Jensen screaming the night before against the relentless rise and fall of the flogger against his skin. His hands still push ineffectually against Jared's chest, but his head is turned away, unwilling to make eye contact or perhaps--Jared suspects that he saw wetness already rising in Jensen's eyes.
"Shh, Jensen, just--"
"Fuck. Off." Jensen speaks more forcefully this time, but his voice still comes out painfully. "I made it through the whole fucking night, so don't even think about not paying me." His voice breaks on the last word and Jared can see Jensen clench his jaw shut in anger, so Jared brings up his hands to sooth, smooths his palms against hip and thigh while Jensen twitches angrily against him.
"I'll pay for this time, too," Jared promises.
Jensen snorts. "I don't think I can take another lovefest like last night so soon, buddy. Get your hands off me."
Jared rises onto his knees and reaches over Jensen to the bedside table. He can hear the hitch of Jensen's breath, feel him flinch at having Jared's mass over him, pressing down onto him, but all Jared does is snag his wallet before sitting back onto his heels. He rifles perfunctorily through the contents and lays a stack of bills on Jensen's belly. "For last night," Jared explains before adding a few more onto the stack. "For your morning?" He makes it a question, and watches as Jensen leans up onto his elbows and counts the bills. Jared imagines that he's measuring this against his most demanding needs. Rent, probably, and food, considering the leanness of the body beneath him. Jared doubts that he does drugs--the skin of his arms are clean--but he can't really tell. Regardless, the amount of money Jared just put down should cover all of that easily on the short term.
"Nothing rough?" Jensen asks, and Jared nods, acquiescing.
Finally, eyes lowered, Jensen nods. He folds the money and places it back onto the bedside table before laying back wearily. "What do you want now, big guy?"
Jared grins, not even wavering when Jensen flinches and looks away. "I just want you."
He knows that he hasn't earned this. The things that Jared has done to him in the past, the things he did to Jensen last night, in a just world would mean that he has no right to lay a hand on Jensen ever again. But he can't help that drive, that hunger that makes him want to lay claim to Jensen, to mark out his territory on Jensen's skin. And Jensen can't help that he can't say no to bastards like Jared who want to pay for his body. Jared is aware of how lucky he is: the one man he wants to inflict his desires on was also one of the few desperate enough to allow Jared to do so.
So he puts his hands back underneath Jensen's thighs and pushes them up to his chest, spreading him wide. Holding Jensen open like this exposes a wide expanse of skin to his eyes, the slope of his buttocks, the round curve of his balls, the swollen bud of his anus. The skin is red and angry looking, hot to the touch when Jared presses gently with his fingertips and still tacky from the night before.
He can feel Jensen hiss, see the play of tensed muscles in his stomach, the sense memory of pushing his fingers in and out of Jensen's well-fucked hole playing back in his mind. Jared catches the pad of his thumb on the rim of swollen muscle.
"S-stop," Jensen whispers. His expression is uncomfortable, gaze turned to the side. Jared moves his hand and strokes at the smooth skin behind Jensen's balls.
"Stop what?"
"Just stop--this," Jensen stutters. "Stop fucking with me and just get on with it already. I don't need--dammit, I just want to get this over with, grab a shower and go home." There is something plaintive in his voice, and its hard for Jared to decide if he's more offended or ashamed. Instead, he leans down and presses his lips against the skin of Jensen's belly.
"Okay," he murmurs, moving down, kissing new skin inch by inch. Head between the vee of Jensen's thighs, he brushes his lips against the velvet of Jensen's prick, sucking gentle kisses along the shaft.
He can see that Jensen is trying not to react; the muscles of his legs are tense against Jared's hands even though his organ twitches half-interestedly in response to Jared's oral ministrations. He takes Jensen's soft cock into his mouth, recalling how hard he'd fucked into the smaller man's mouth the night before, like he was trying to get his entire dick down the column of Jensen's throat. Jared moans at this thought, flicking his tongue at the soft head, marveling at how undemanding Jensen has to be where Jared was allowed to take by force, how easy it is to play at being submissive when he knows that the truth is something altogether different. Jensen is slowly but surely responding, tremors moving up his thighs, and it feels so good to dig his fingers into those muscles, feel Jensen arch up into his mouth as if trying to find a place to fit deeper inside his mouth. Jared loves that fullness, that point where he's almost gagging, trying to take more of that sweet, soft skin in.
He pulls back with a wet suck and looks up. Jensen's face is flushed. His hands are gripping the sheets on either side of him, white-knuckled. His cock is arching upwards, slender and shining with Jared's saliva.
"Is this okay?" Jared asks, running the tip of his finger against the ridge where the head of Jensen's cock meets the shaft. A bead of precum wells up at the tip and Jared smears it across the pink flesh of the head, then leans down to lick the fluid off with a swipe of his tongue. He can feel Jensen's hips shudder as he pushes against the small slit at the tip like he's trying to find a way in.
"Could you--," Jensen whispers. His eyes are closed again. "I just---ahhh--" His voice trembles as Jared keeps tonguing at the tip, sucking just the head into his mouth and bringing his eyes up. "I'm just a little sore," he finishes, the first notes of discomfort entering his voice. Jared continues hungrily as Jensen's knees start to lower and come together, as if the stimulation is too much.
Jared pulls off with a pop, and brings his hand up to begin roughly frigging Jensen's cock. "Look at me," he says, his voice gruff with need. Green eyes meet his even as Jensen's hips squirm away from his hand.
"I want you to sit still while I touch you. Open your legs for me."
It's too easy, Jared thinks as he hears the smaller man groan, watches him force his hips to still and his knees to spread open. All of this comes too easily to Jared; he can take and hurt and humiliate, and Jensen will just lay back and spread for him with one eye on Jared's fist and the other on his wallet. If money is the only obstacle between owning something so completely, how can he control himself, Jared wonders as he strokes the fingers of one hand over Jensen's hole as the other continues to pump at Jensen's cock, watching his hips stutter, confused whether he should arch forward or pull away. Jared can still feel the tenderness of that small opening, and he wants to bend down and seal his mouth over it, thrust his tongue in to sooth the ache he knows still lingers. He knows even better after last night where Jensen's limits are and just how much he can push before the man breaks.
"I can't--" Jensen whimpers. "Please, can I--Can I come? Let me come, please." His balls are pulled up, tight, and Jared chokes out a clipped, "Yes, now," before Jensen is spurting through Jared's fingers.
Jared watches Jensen's face, twisted like he's in pain, as he milks Jensen's cock, coaxing every last string of cum from him and then through the the shuddering aftershocks that twitch through his thighs. He looks at his hand where it's rubbing the fluid back onto Jensen's reddened prick, loving the hitches of his hips as he moves to avoid Jared's continued stimulation of his too-sensitive flesh. Jared wants to cover Jensen in his own cum, wants to rub it into his skin until it seeps into his pores, until Jensen knows who he belongs to in every crevice of his body.
Jensen opens his mouth when Jared raises his hand, obediently taking Jared's fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean of his own semen. It isn't until Jensen shifts over, head nudging towards Jared's lap, that Jared realizes he's achingly hard, but he's not surprised. His cock bobs eagerly until soft, wet heat closes over the head. Jared trails his fingers along the muscles of Jensen's back, then up to cup his jaw, feeling Jensen's mouth working on the head of Jared's dick. Maybe he could be happy with this too, Jared thinks, probing until he feels the sweet press of Jensen's lips right where they meet his cock. He could feel the slickness on his shaft before Jensen surges forward, taking more of him in. Maybe, Jared pondered, he could satisfy himself with just the softness of this tongue, the surrender of Jensen's open mouth, his canted up hips; maybe he didn't have to push for pain, or terror, or tears. Jared feels his balls tighten, and he comes in Jensen's mouth with a quiet sigh, both hoping that this feeling of satiation would last and knowing that it won't.
Jared slumps back on the bed, feeling warm, almost hot, his vision gone golden and liquid. When he raises Jensen's head with a hand underneath his chin, he can see that Jensen's eyes are glassy with post-orgasm euphoria.
"Let's get cleaned up," Jared suggests, unable to resist sliding the pad of his fingers against Jensen's reddened mouth. "And then I'll drive you back."
He propels himself off the bed, shifting to stand on Jensen's side to watch him groan as Jensen moves against the welts from the night before, doubtless still sore all over. When he stumbles, Jared catches him, leans Jensen against his hip, an arm around his waist as he carries them both towards the bathroom. Jensen stands with a hand on the wall as Jared turns on the shower. He won't meed Jared's eyes, even when they step in and stand under the shower head, when Jared wraps his arms around Jensen's waist from behind, laying gentle kisses where his neck meets his shoulder.
"Man, I just want to shower--" Jensen begins, but Jared shushes him.
"Nothing's going to happen," he says, reassuringly. "We're just getting clean again."
This involves soap, of course, which Jared lathers up between his palms. He starts with Jensen's back, then moves around to Jensen's chest. He knows he's found the nubs of Jensen's nipples when Jensen gasps; they're still a little swollen from their rough treatment the night before, but Jared rolls the flesh between thumb and forefinger until they're pebbled and Jensen is moaning.
"Please," Jensen whispers, and Jared turns him by his hips to face the shower wall.
"Hands up, Jensen. Spread your legs."
Jensen moves slowly, pressing his palms against the wet tile, leaning into it and spreading his legs. Jared stands behind him and knows that he could fuck him now, that Jensen expects it. He can see Jensen's cock dangling between his parted thighs, and it would be so easy to push the head of his prick between those cheeks and into that sore little hole he'd treated so roughly the night before. Jared shudders and instead pushes soapy hands in, runs gentle fingers in that crevice and Jensen moans, part fear and part pain as Jared touches him. Jared can feel that the opening is hot, can see that it's still red and a little distended from all the fucking.
He crouches down, pushes a finger in, gently, and hears Jensen gasp. Moving slowly in and out, he can feel the smoothness of Jensen's inner flesh, the heat that emanates from it, and he nudges in a second finger, twisting, then scissoring them open so that he can glimpse that pink, vulnerable skin, see the thin skin around the rim stretch to encompass his prodding. Jared's breath catches when he realizes that he's looking inside the other man, looking at something that wasn't meant to be seen, and he fucks in with his fingers again, wondering if he could feel his come inside Jensen from the night before. This hole is basically his, Jared thinks. He can have it any time he likes, and he thinks about hiring Jensen to stand beside his desk as he works, bent over, spreading himself open so that Jared can look at this little place he likes to fuck, maybe stick in his fingers when he wants, some pens from his desk or a vibrator. Jared pulls his fingers out with a groan, using his palms against slippery, wet skin to pry Jensen's cheeks apart and press his own face in, push his tongue inside that hurt hole and fuck him with it.
Jensen whimpers above him, thrusting back onto his tongue. He tastes musky, Jared notes, but clean, and Jared eats him until Jensen's moans reach a crescendo. His climax is small having come so soon after their exploits on the bed, but Jared watches the semen wash down the drain with satisfaction, manhandling Jensen back upright and against his body before pressing the shampoo bottle into Jensen's shaking hands.
"I'm sure you know how to use this," he smirks, thrusting his semi-hard cock against the small of Jensen's back. He doesn't allow the smaller man to move away as he washes his hair, reaching a hand down just to hold Jensen's genitals in his hand as Jensen cleans himself. Then, he hands Jensen the soap and stands there as Jensen bathes him, watches him go to his knees to wash up Jared's calves, his thighs, up to Jared's crotch where he cleans the instrument of his assault the night before with careful hands.
A darker part of himself revels in this submission, and for a moment Jared indulges it. He imagines reaching down and grabbing Jensen by the hair, grasping his cock and pissing all over him, urine running over welted skin. He can already see Jensen's shocked face as he pushes him back against the wall, forcing his dick inside that swollen hole and pissing there too, making Jensen hold it in until his legs shake and tears of humiliation run down his face.
But Jared knows that these are tasks that require negotiation and a prior exchange of money, and instead he just says hoarsely, "Kiss it," and Jensen knowingly lowers his head and presses his lips to the balls cupped in his hands, the shaft of Jared's thick cock, then the flared head.
This appeases him a little, his immediate need to hurt and humiliate receding, but Jared keeps Jensen on his knees, mouth his crotch, Jensen's hands resting on his hips as he washes his own hair. He turns off the shower when he's done, stepping out and handing Jensen a towel before drying himself off. They get dressed in silence, and Jensen walks over to the bed, sitting down to collect the money he'd earned and counting through it again before folding the bills and sliding them into his pocket.
Jared watches as he does this, and he wonders, karmically, where he stands now. He thinks of his money in Jensen's pocket now allowing Jensen to feed himself, to pay his rent. He thinks of all the other men Jensen would've had to fuck in order to make what he did with Jared in one night. And, not coming up with any answers, he walks out of the bedroom to grab his keys from the kitchen counter.
"Are you good to go?" he calls out, and Jensen follows his voice out of the bedroom.
"Yeah," Jensen says roughly. "I think we're done here."
Jared nods curtly, and they leave.