Baby's first RPF 1/2
Full Service Firm
Note: Here it goes, another wall I thought would never fall. CW RPF: J2, AU. Explicit. Thanks to
giandujakiss for beta.
Content notes: see prompt-sex work, deception.
Prompt from the SPN/J2 sex industry fic meme: Jensen's ego is stinging four weeks after being dumped by his long time boyfriend. He's been turning down guys left and right because, while he wouldn't mind some nice, no-strings-attached sex, he's more than a little scared of any kind of rejection. Enter the hot guy in the expensive suit who's been drinking the bar's best all night. Jensen nearly swallows his tongue when hot guy sidles up and says he'll pay double Jensen's going rate if he agrees to leave right the fuck now. Jensen's more than a little peeved that the guy thinks he's a hooker, but when he names an outrageous price off the top of his head, and the guy agrees without blinking an eye, he feels all his insecurities vanish. At least until a few months later when he realizes he may be in love with his one and only regular.
Me again: Sorry, I tweaked it a bit and didn’t quite work all the optional parts in.
Read the whole thing on the AO3.
Jensen should have known that it was bad when Paul was still there, half an hour past the time Jensen had agreed to meet him at the restaurant. “Sorry,” Jensen said, sliding into the seat across from Paul. “There was a crisis with the license agreement-”
“Stop it,” Paul said, pushing his empty beer bottle away. His eyes were sparkling and his brows drawn tight with anger. He looked as gorgeous as he had the day they’d met at the bar mixer, when his animation was all outrage at the state of the juvenile justice system; he still made Jensen’s breath catch, even now that it was Jensen and not undertrained guards riling him up.
Jensen shut his mouth, despite wanting very much to continue his explanation. Then his training overcame his caution. “Paul-”
“You know what?” Paul didn’t wait for an answer. “The only thing worse than having you ignore me for work is having you talk about work, and since those are the only two things you do, I’m done. I kept thinking that it was worth it ‘cause you’re hot, but it turns out that not even I’m that shallow.”
“I-”
“Put this in whatever computer system you use instead of a brain: looking pretty and sucking cock is not enough to get you a relationship. You can mail me my keys.” He stood up so fast his chair rocked, and then he was hurrying away.
Jensen gaped after him, hand raised as if he could somehow reach out and, Darth Vader-like, pull Paul back. Then, slowly, he sat back in his seat, trying not to look around to see exactly how many people had watched his utter humiliation. He could feel his skin reddening and kind of hoped to burst into flames right there.
No such luck. His phone buzzed, which was probably Bruce wanting to know if Jensen had incorporated the changes from the tax guys into the latest draft of the contract. The funny thing was, Jensen had desperately wanted Paul to like him, and he thought Bruce was an ass, and yet he’d spent eighty hours in the past ten days on Bruce’s contract and only maybe ten minutes talking to Paul in a context that wasn’t either sex-related or while Jensen was in the process of getting ready to go to the law firm.
I am such a loser, he thought. Four guys, four years, all of them eventually in full rebellion against Jensen’s workaholic tendencies. Apparently the only thing he could count on to stick with him were his student loans.
“Excuse me, sir,” the waiter said, sidling up. “Will you be ordering?”
Jensen tugged at the knot of his tie and shook his head. He wasn’t up to talking, so he made the universal ‘check please’ hand gesture, knowing that he was being even more of an asshole-but then again, apparently he didn’t have any further to fall in that department.
He’d really thought that Paul liked him, how intense he got over his work-Bruce was an ass, all right, but Jensen was good at his job, figuring out the tangles made by words and how to straighten them out and curl them up again to serve the client. He’d thought that they shared that intensity, but apparently all Paul had seen was Jensen’s face, like everybody else.
He left a big tip, along with what felt like a chunk of his heart.
****
Jensen took another protective sip of his beer. It tasted more like soapy water than anything he’d actually want to drink, but the crowd at the bar was so packed that he was getting shoved this way and that and a highball would have been an invitation to take a sticky bath. Jensen was considering it anyway-if he was lucky, maybe a hot guy would careen into him and then be honor-bound to offer to buy him another. But then again, he’d already turned down three come-ons, not counting the hands he’d removed from various parts of his person.
He wanted to get laid. Really, he did. He’d even dressed up, tight jeans and tighter shirt, product in his hair and maybe (not that he’d admit it) a little gloss and eyeliner. His shirt practically had the slogan ‘I could be yours if you play your cards right’ on it. But every time he tried to smile back at them, he just flashed forward to a month or so later, when they’d be telling him that he couldn’t just expect them to be around on the rare occasions he emerged for air and decided he’d like to pretend to be a boyfriend.
Two more guys leaned in to yell in his ear before Jensen decided that there were better ways to use his night off than to lose his hearing and watch other people hook up. He shook his head one last time and turned towards the exit.
That was when the hottest man Jensen had seen in the place, ever, planted himself in front of Jensen. He was wearing a suit as well-cut as any worn by the equity partners in Jensen’s firm, except that the equity partners didn’t generally pair a bespoke jacket with a muscle-hugging white T-shirt that was either damp with sweat or with the drool of onlookers. Jesus, the last time he’d seen pecs like that he’d been watching bodybuilders. Jensen bit his lip to keep himself from reaching out and touching, then forced his eyes up enough to look at the guy’s face. Long dark hair, strands stuck together with sweat, and slanted eyes glimmering with humor. Jensen wasn’t short, but this guy was at least three inches taller.
Say something, he told himself. Except that the guy leaned down before Jensen could formulate a sentence. His lips brushed Jensen’s ear as he said, “Come with me right now and I’ll pay twice your regular rate.”
For a second, all Jensen could think about was the rate the firm billed him at. “Six hundred an hour?” he asked, nearly blank with shock, except the guy must not have heard it as a question, because he just nodded and grabbed Jensen’s arm, firm but not painful, and started walking them towards the door.
Three steps in, Jensen figured out that the guy had probably not been talking about the price of legal services, and he nearly fell over his own feet. But the guy pulled him in closer, grinning like Jensen had just made a hilarious joke, and Jensen’s brain vapor-locked.
‘Why not?’ was the first thing in his head when they pushed through the doors and the cooler night air hit him, startling his thoughts into rebooting. Not that he was going to take Hot Guy’s money, of course. But if Hot Guy thought that Jensen was there to get paid, then there was no way he wanted anything other than Jensen’s ass and he wasn’t going to be disappointed. And whatever else Jensen wanted, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to get it, so he might as well relax and have some fun, right?
“I’m Jensen,” he said, voice too loud now that they were out of the bar.
Hot Guy looked over, amused. He still hadn’t let go of Jensen’s arm. “Jared,” he said, after a moment. Maybe it was an alias, Jensen thought. “My hotel’s just up the block.” He sounded relaxed, like the evening was going just as he’d planned, but his tone didn’t invite a response.
Right, so Jared wasn’t really into casual conversation. Why would he be? He hadn’t exactly picked Jensen out of the crowd because of his fantastic performance in moot court. But Jensen hadn’t stopped him, because before he’d been Jared he’d been Hot Guy, which meant that Jensen had precisely zero legs to stand on even without the part where he was letting Jared assume he was a hooker. (Also, apparently Jensen had overshot ‘wants to get laid’ by a country mile, which was … dispiriting. Maybe next time he’d skip the eyeliner.)
Jensen managed not to dig himself in further with failed conversational gambits by virtue of barely looking at Jared at all for the rest of the walk to the hotel, through the over-airconditioned lobby, and up in the elevator.
Jared was stripping off his jacket before the door to his room swung closed, tossing it over a chair as he turned to inspect Jensen, nodding to himself. “Why don’t you take off your clothes?” he asked, the way one of the partners at the firm would ask if Jensen wanted to take on an important matter-which meant that he wasn’t asking at all.
Jensen felt himself blushing, and hid it by pulling his T-shirt up and over his head. Then, because this was why he’d followed Jared, he unbuckled his belt and slid it out of the loops. Then his shoes, toed off, and a quick bend to get rid of his socks without looking too goddamned stupid.
His hands hesitated on the top button of his jeans. When he looked up, Jared was sitting on the edge of the fucking enormous hotel bed, shirtless now. He was muscled like an Alex Ross superhero, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands, staring openly at Jensen. “Don’t stop on my account,” he said, again with that note in his voice like he was laughing at himself and at Jensen at the same time. Jensen’s stomach flipped, but he flicked the buttons open and skinned down his jeans and boxer-briefs together. His dick, already taking an interest, twitched and thickened further when Jared smirked.
“I want you to suck my cock,” Jared said, and maybe Jensen should’ve disabused him of the notion that this was a business arrangement already, except that Jesus fuck it was hot to be getting ordered around like this, which-a small part of Jensen’s mind noted-was a little surprising given how much yessirring Jensen did on a daily basis already. Only this time at least he was going to get an orgasm out of it, instead of the usual backache/lack-of-sleep/boyfriend-abandoning-him-in-disgust combo.
Snapping himself back to reality, Jensen nodded and tried to cross the floor in as non-dorky a way as possible, which was probably hopeless but fortunately Jared wasn’t all that far away. Jensen sank to his knees between Jared’s spread legs and reached for Jared’s belt, thin leather as expensive as the rest of his outfit. Jared’s cock was already pushing out against the fine wool of his pants, and Jensen hurried to get the fly open with almost equal concern for the suit as for Jared. Except that his mouth was watering, so maybe he was a little more interested in what was underneath the suit. Jared helped, undoing the interior button that helped the pants hang better (Bruce had given a lecture on this exact topic one interminable taxi ride to the airport on the way to a deposition; Jensen appreciated it much more now that he’d seen how Jared looked, though honestly Jared would have been scorching in burlap) and raising his hips so that Jensen could get his pants and shorts down.
Jensen stopped and stared. He kind of wanted to say something, but he figured that Jared was probably about as used to comments on the size of his cock as Jensen was to expressions of interest in his cocksucking mouth. Come to think of it, that was a good pairing. Like peanut butter and jelly, but with extra sex. Jensen licked his lips, and Jared made a small, impatient sound. Jensen took a deep breath and bent forward, letting his tongue roll around Jared’s cockhead, swelling even as Jensen got his first taste.
There was no way Jensen was getting all of that in his mouth, so he brought one hand up even as he worked himself as far down as he could, raising up on his knees. Jared’s cock was just as thick and silky-smooth under his fingers as it was in his mouth, thick veins rising under his fingers as he worked down Jared’s shaft, using the spit leaking out of his mouth to ease his way back up. Jared’s taste was strong, day’s-end strong, and Jensen wanted as much of it as he could get.
He moved slowly, and Jared was polite (or had a healthy respect for the ordinary gag reflex) and didn’t shove forwards, so Jensen put his free hand on Jared’s thigh, stopping to feel the muscle twitch, and slid up until he was cupping Jared’s balls, his fingers trapped against the crease of Jared’s thigh. With his eyes closed, he felt-weirdly safe. Like he could keep doing this forever, even though his jaw was going to crack and his tongue was going numb. Just giving pleasure, happy in the moment because there was no future to it at all.
When he pulled back to breathe, Jared put a hand on his shoulder, and Jensen looked up, lips still wrapped around that perfect, sticky-smooth head. The way Jared gasped told Jensen just how he looked.
“Jeez,” Jared exhaled, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”
Jensen was a supporter of that plan. He let Jared’s dick slide all the way out of his mouth, wobbling a little, and rose to his feet.
“On your back,” Jared said. “Use a pillow. I want to watch you open yourself up.”
Jensen swallowed the ‘oh fuck’ that wanted to come out. His lovers had always been about requests and negotiation, and his one-night stands even more so-all the care you took when you wanted to get laid again, or when you didn’t want the guy to get pissed off or freaked out and leave in the middle. He’d never been a sure thing like this before. He was so hard his dick slapped his stomach when he managed to wrestle a pillow out from the huge pile provided by the hotel, and then he was on his back, as ordered, hips tilted up as he looked around wildly, only then realizing that he didn’t exactly have the necessary supplies.
Fortunately, Jared had been well-prepared for his own night on the town, and there was a bottle of lube alongside a box of condoms on the nightstand. Jared reached over and handed him the lube with a grin that would’ve made Jensen blush if all his blood hadn’t migrated to his dick, and he fumbled it open, his fingers instantly slick and messy.
He drew his legs up, letting his knees fall apart as his heels brushed against the edge of the pillow, feeling obscene and proud of it. Jared sat on the edge of the bed again, twisted this time so that he could watch. Jensen pushed two fingers inside himself at once, not minding the sting because of the hunger on Jared’s face, then added a third as soon as he could breathe again. His other hand rubbed up and down his cock, pressing it down into his belly. He closed his eyes as he spread his fingers, knowing he wasn’t going to be close to ready but wanting it anyway.
Jensen heard the rip of the condom packet; Jared was on the bed when he opened his eyes, stalking towards him on hands and knees. Jensen managed to pull his fingers out and grab on to the back of his thigh, lifting his leg to give Jared more room to work.
Jared felt even bigger than he looked, pushing in with a steady strength that said he could’ve gone faster if he wanted, grunting a little as he put his huge hands under Jensen’s knees and pressed them up towards his chest. Jensen’s tendons were probably protesting, but he couldn’t feel anything other than the thick slide of Jared’s cock. Gasping, he tried to relax and take it, letting his own hands fall to his sides, clenching in the covers.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” Jared said, surprised and almost to himself. Jensen grunted and made himself open up further, just as Jared pushed forward and slammed home, his flat belly brushing against Jensen’s balls. Jensen shuddered and squirmed, nowhere to go even if he’d wanted to move.
And then Jared really started to give it to him, rocking his hips back and forth like he seriously thought he was going to get in deeper. Jensen could barely breathe, all that weight above and, Christ, inside him; he clutched at Jared’s biceps out of pure self-defense and then couldn’t help but love the feel of solid muscle, moaning even louder. His cock had softened some just from the shock, but he was quickly regaining his arousal. He could feel the slippery-wet head of his cock rubbing against Jared’s abs.
“Talk to me,” Jared ordered.
Seriously? Yeah, Jensen’s day job involved producing words on demand, but this-
Well, okay. “Nnrrgh,” he began, then took a deep breath. “Feel so fucking good inside me. So fucking hot, your gorgeous cock-” Jared thrust extra hard, and Jensen basically lost the plot. When his head cleared, he was still babbling, something about how he’d suck Jared all night long if he could. Jared was urging him on, asking “You like that?” and variants, which meant that it was okay for Jensen to dissolve into nothing much more than “yeah” and “please” and “yeah” again. Finally, when Jensen thought he was just about to die, Jared reached between them to wrap a big hand around his cock, and that was it, game over, tilt tilt tilt.
He came like he hadn’t in months, maybe years, going boneless and heavy even as Jared’s dick seemed to get bigger inside him, their chests slip-sliding together, both of them wet with Jensen’s come. Jensen blinked up and saw Jared’s head thrown back, long line of his throat and jaw like some sculptor’s wet dream.
“Fuck,” Jared said-as good as Jensen felt, it sounded like the wisdom of the ages, and he would’ve nodded if he’d had the energy-and came, his whole body stiffening and then collapsing on Jensen’s.
They lay there, panting, until Jensen really had to move his legs, and then he sort of wriggled them feebly until Jared got the message and pulled out, carefully bringing the condom with him. Holy fuck Jensen was going to be sore in the morning, but it had been worth every twinge.
Jared rolled onto his back next to Jensen, breathing hard. “That was awesome,” he said, and Jensen was not about to disagree. He tugged the condom off and tossed it over the side; Jensen had a moment of ewww, not wanting to step on it later, and brought his head up just enough to see that Jared, amazingly, had managed to lob the thing straight into the trash can. So: rich, hot, and well-coordinated. Jensen had a flash of one of those Hollywood celebrities explaining why he’d hired a hooker-I don’t pay them for the sex, the guy’d said. I pay them to go away after.
It was a little bit of a buzz kill, but Jensen resolved to be well-behaved. As soon as he caught his breath, he’d leave-refusing any money of course, but out the door before anything could get awkward.
Except that Jared sighed, satisfied but loud, and folded his hands on his (extremely well-cut) stomach. “Lick me clean,” he said, like that was something that you could actually say.
Jensen felt his mouth fall open. Jared looked over and grinned. “My hour’s not even up,” he said. Jensen had the irrational urge to explain that, as a matter of fact, he was used to keeping time in six-minute increments.
But that was not who he was tonight, apparently. Tonight he was apparently the guy who dutifully scooted down the bed and got on his hands and knees and started in again on that amazing cock, soft now and covered with a not entirely unpleasant mix of come and residue from the condom. He used his tongue to sweep up and down, unwilling to miss any patch of skin. The taste wasn’t the best thing ever, yes, but Jensen couldn’t help but think about how all that mess got there, thick and salty and only somewhat plasticky, plus he could get almost all of Jared’s dick in his mouth this way and Jared was staring down at him like he was setting an Olympic record in cocksucking, so it was overall pretty hot.
And then Jared’s length started to swell, forcing Jensen to back off some. He raised his eyebrows-are you fucking kidding me?-and Jared shrugged, more smug than sheepish, as he got all the way hard again, faster than Jensen had managed since he was maybe seventeen.
“That’s good,” Jared said, one hand on Jensen’s shoulder to push him back. “You stay right there.” He reached for another condom, and before Jensen could really process what was going on, he was behind Jensen, pushing him further up the bed and shoving his knees between Jensen’s, one hand heavy on the nape of Jensen’s neck.
He pushed in even more smoothly this time, bottoming out like he knew exactly how hard to thrust to keep from crossing the line into pain. Jensen felt strange, floaty, like even his heartbeat was tied to how Jared was moving inside him. He wasn’t going to come again soon, probably couldn’t even get hard, but every nerve was lit up with sensation. He concentrated on keeping his arms and legs from giving out on him and on rocking his hips back to match Jared’s movements.
Jared grunted and shifted his hand; now he was holding on to Jensen’s shoulders, pulling him back as his knees pushed Jensen’s further out, destabilizing him and pushing him further down on Jared’s cock. Jensen opened his mouth to protest but all that came out was a ragged “unnhh” that, even in his own ears, sounded more encouraging than pained.
Jared fucked him like that for a while, until Jensen’s thighs were shaking and he’d lost control of his arms and faceplanted into the soft, clean-smelling covers. Jared’s hands had drifted down to Jensen’s hips, holding him in place as if Jensen had anywhere to go, and then Jared slid one hand all the way up Jensen’s back, over his shoulder, curving around his neck and finally over his jaw, thumb pressing into Jensen’s mouth with the same entitlement Jared had shown from the beginning. Jensen moaned and let him in, sucking sloppily, nipping at the pad of Jared’s thumb. His skin tingled with aftershocks everywhere Jared had touched him.
“God,” Jared said, like he was surprised, and then bucked his hips forward one last time and came. He collapsed down onto Jensen in slow motion, flailing with his other hand to take care of the condom, and somehow they ended up smashed together in a way that was probably going to get uncomfortable fast, Jared’s mouth pressed into Jensen’s neck and his leg splayed across Jensen’s. Jensen’s face was mostly pressed into a pillow; he had one eye and one nostril free, and Jared was still playing with his mouth, letting Jensen lick at his fingers. They were rough and salty and Jensen could’ve kept going for hours.
“Mmm,” Jared hummed. “I need a snack. You want to eat?”
Jensen thought about it, to the extent that he could think. “Whaddaya got?”
Jared pulled away-Jensen couldn’t stop himself from wriggling a little, suddenly cold-and Jensen heard some fumbling noises. A menu landed next to his face. “Anything you want,” Jared said.
Jensen blinked. He really was not up to making complicated decisions like this. But food did sound good. “Get two of whatever you’re having.” So far, Jared hadn’t exactly steered him wrong. And buying your date dinner was absolutely not the same thing as paying for sex, right?
More noise. “Yeah, hi,” Jared said, voice muffled by the phone. “Two steaks, baked potato, asparagus. And two slices of key lime pie. Great, thanks.” Jensen heard footsteps over the carpet. “If you hate key lime, I’ll eat your slice.”
Jensen made himself roll over and smile up at Jared. Wouldn’t do to pass out right now. That would be rude. “Key lime’s awesome,” he said. “I’m a little surprised you eat dessert.” Somehow, he made his hand rise enough to wave basically in the direction of Jared’s muscles.
Jared actually got pink, high on his cheeks. “Metabolism,” he said. “And, you know, an hour in the gym every day, plus I run with my dogs …” He stopped, as if realizing that he didn’t owe Jensen any sort of explanation. Jensen nodded, keeping the smile on his face. Jensen himself got most of his exercise running up and down stairs at the firm, and he’d have to pay for his pie with coffee for lunch the next few days, but he wasn’t going to worry about that now.
“Hey,” Jared said brightly. “How about a shower?”
“Even more awesome than key lime,” Jensen agreed.
The stall was pretty big-Jensen hadn’t quite noticed just how fancy the hotel was on the way in, but he was beginning to get a sense of why Jared hadn’t flinched at the thought of paying six hundred an hour-but the two of them still barely fit in. There was a lot of rubbing and jostling and soap-stealing. Though maybe that would’ve happened even if they’d been in a space twice as large, because it was all fun. Jensen could tell that his ass and even his legs would be hating him tomorrow, but the full soreness hadn’t set in yet and he was still riding the endorphins, so right now it was smooth sailing.
Just as they got out, there was a knock at the door, and Jared wrapped a towel around his waist to get the food. Jensen peered out of the bathroom, enjoying the play of muscles in Jared’s back, and for a moment he wanted to let himself pretend that this was the start of something real.
But guys like Jared self-evidently weren’t interested in overworked associates whose best conversational gambits centered on the latest outrage from the Fifth Circuit and the fascinating implications of the termination of transfer of copyright in Superman and the scope of the rights in the character exclusively as he existed as of Action Comics #1, but not as he was later developed. (Superman! Jensen would have thought that everything involving Superman was interesting to other people, but, sadly, no.)
“Come on,” Jared called. “This food’s too good to waste.”
So Jensen grabbed a towel of his own and went out to enjoy the moment.
Jared was right about the food, too.
And, as it turned out, Jared was smart and funny, full of jokes about the differences between Texas and DC (he was from Texas, Jesus wept, the perfect man if not for the small fact that he thought he’d purchased Jensen’s sexual favors). Jensen did his best to, well, not be himself, talking only about restaurants and good places to be a tourist. Since he couldn’t discuss his profession (real or accidental-presumed), it wasn’t as difficult as he usually found casual conversation. There was something oddly liberating about talking with a guy who was (a) never going to be around again and (b) completely mistaken about who Jensen was. Jensen found that he actually had some strong opinions about the various Smithsonian museums and that Jared had equally strong, though completely misguided, ideas of which he very much needed to be disabused before he headed back to Texas to spread his misinformation.
As he scraped the last graham cracker crumbs off of his plate, Jensen tried to figure out exactly what he was going to say to explain that, no, he wasn’t really a hooker, but yes, he’d leave quietly and without a fuss. Maybe he could just stand up and start getting dressed.
Except that when he looked up, Jared was sitting back on the bed, towel discarded, one knee drawn up and the other off to the side, looking like a Playgirl centerfold up against the mountain of hotel pillows. His hand was working his cock, which was already half-hard.
No, seriously, are you fucking kidding me? did not come out of Jensen’s mouth, but he was pretty sure his expression was saying most of that for him.
“Come on,” Jared said, almost wheedling.
Jensen had sat there (wincing, to be sure, but he’d sat) and eaten the man’s food. As far as Jared was concerned, Jensen was still on the clock.
His ass wasn’t going to be happy tomorrow anyway, and Jared looked so good when he smiled. Jensen took a breath and stood, abandoning his towel.
By the time he joined Jared on the bed, Jared had the condom on and was reaching for the lube. “Allow me,” he said, and Jensen wasn’t going to dissuade him, so Jensen ended up crouched above Jared while Jared pushed his fingers deep inside-nothing like his cock, but they still felt enormous, stretching him open again. Then Jared pulled him down onto that thick, awesome dick, until he was riding Jared face-to-face, his head spinning as he clamped his thighs around Jared’s waist and hung on.
“You have the most amazing pelvic cut,” he told Jared, lightheaded as if he’d been drinking tequila instead of getting fucked for the past couple of hours.
Jared laughed, but not meanly, more as if he was happy to see Jensen happy, which was in some ways totally unfair. But Jensen pushed all that aside-there wasn’t much room in his head right now, which was just the way he liked it-and shifted his weight so that he wasn’t bruising himself quite so badly on Jared’s hipbones.
Jared cupped Jensen’s face, and Jensen instinctively turned to mouth against his palm. God, he could get addicted to the taste of Jared’s skin, shower-clean now but still with that slight bite of salt. But Jared turned him gently back, pulling forward, and then they were kissing, sweet and wet but just barely pushing their tongues together, kind of a stunning contrast to how deep Jared was inside him.
Jensen’s thighs were so exhausted that he could barely move himself back and forth, but Jared didn’t complain. When their mouths broke apart, Jared looked nearly as stunned as Jensen felt. “Can you get yourself off? I want you to come on me,” Jared said, so low that Jensen barely heard him even from inches away. But once he’d processed the words, his dick jumped. He hadn’t expected-but Jared had asked, and it would be rude to refuse, surely.
Jensen leaned back a little, putting more of his weight on Jared’s thighs, and brought his hand up to his mouth, licking the palm. Then, struck by an impulse, he offered his fingers to Jared. Jared’s teeth were sharp, almost painful, but his tongue was hot and wet and the look on his face when his eyes closed and he sucked hard was enough to get Jensen well past the starting line even before he managed to wrap his spit-slick hand around his cock.
They both bent their heads until their foreheads touched, watching Jensen work. He’d slowed his rhythm on Jared to almost nothing, just rocking his hips up and down. His dick was hot and heavy, oversensitive so that he could barely stand to keep his grip even as he couldn’t stop squeezing and pulling. Jared was panting, and Jensen could feel the air currents moving thick and humid on the head of his dick.
The sound Jensen made when he came was unrecognizable as a word. He could feel himself clenching around Jared’s cock, painful-good. Backsplashes of his own jizz hit his fingers, but most of it ended up on Jared’s stomach, messing up all that nice clean skin. He wasn’t even done coming when Jared growled, surged up, and had him on his back again, fucking into him like he was going to die if he didn’t get there in the next minute.
Jensen lay there and took it, loose-limbed and balloon-headed, letting his legs widen further to give Jared a better angle. Jared had his eyes closed, face screwed up in concentration, mouth pink and used, and Jensen’s cock gave one last, near-painful twitch as Jared pushed them so far that Jensen’s head hung off the edge of the bed and groaned out his orgasm.
This time, Jensen did whimper when Jared pulled out, and Jared made a sort of cooing, soothing sound that made Jensen want to hit him, except that his bones had been turned to Silly Putty.
He’d get up in a minute. Tell Jared that it had been amazing, wish him the best of luck on his business trip, and disappear from his life.
In just a minute.
****
Jensen woke with a foul taste in his mouth and the too-familiar ache of having left his contacts in too long. The phone was ringing, except he never had his phone set to ring.
Which was, he realized as he rolled over towards the noise, because he was still in Jared’s hotel room. Also, fucking ow.
After a few pathetic attempts, he managed to grab the receiver off of the end table. An automated voice told him that this was his eight am wakeup call.
Fuck.
Oh, he didn’t need to be at the office until ten; on a Saturday ten was reasonable. But if he hadn’t gone home-
“Jared?” he asked.
Silence.
When Jensen investigated-moving slowly in the delusion that taking care would help him feel less like he’d been turned on a spit-he found his cellphone on the table below the big mirror, weighing down an envelope with the hotel’s address on it; obviously Jared had used the phone to make sure he wouldn’t leave without seeing the envelope.
“Fuck,” he said to the uncaring, empty room. Carefully, he pulled out the note, ignoring for the moment the stack of cash it was wrapped around.
“Jensen,” the note said in sloppy but readable handwriting. “I had a fantastic time. Thanks!”
Jensen stared at his phone like it was the idiot that had passed out and left his pickup with the impression that his virtue was negotiable.
The envelope held three thousand dollars.
Either Jensen’s time sense was way off, or Jared was also a big tipper.
Now what?
His stomach growled, and simultaneously he remembered that the Johnson deal memo was due on Monday, which pretty much decisively answered the ‘what now’ question. But he had no idea what to do with the money. Maybe he could leave it with the hotel, and ask them to return it to … Jared, if that was his name, with no last name, staying in room 1710? Yeah, he could do that, if his best-case scenario was dying of embarrassment. Worst-case was some sort of horrible solicitation arrest, disbarment, slow starvation on the streets-
Okay, no.
Maybe he could give the money to charity. Were there reporting requirements on cash? Shit, he’d have to look that up.
In the meantime, he had a walk of shame and a deal memo to finish.
Still, he couldn’t help but smile as he opened the door to leave the room, and the lingering scent of Jared, behind. However it had happened, the hottest guy this side of Angelina Jolie had picked him, and then they’d had crazy sex for hours. That was definitely worth some compensation-related misunderstandings.
And when he remembered this-because it was going to be a key part of his fantasy life for years to come, that was for sure-he could edit out those awkward bits.
****
Which worked fine until two weeks later, when his phone buzzed in the middle of a meeting and the name on the display was Jared’s.
Jensen froze for a second, then made frantic hand motions that he hoped conveyed ‘I have to take this’ as he hurried out into the hallway.
“Jared?” he asked, dumbfounded.
“Jensen, hi!” Jared sounded cheerful.
“You called,” Jensen said, then wanted to smack himself in the face.
“Yeah,” Jared said, dampened a little. “I programmed my number into your phone, I hope that’s okay.” He sounded tentative now, like he was going to try very hard not to be hurt if Jensen reacted badly.
“No, no, that’s fine,” Jensen said, because he didn’t want to hurt Jared, who’d been a nice guy-except for the whole money thing and Jesus Christ-
“Anyway,” Jared said, before Jensen could really wrap his mind around revisiting previous events, “I’m gonna be in town Friday night, and I wondered if you were. You know. Available.”
“Friday?” Jensen repeated. He didn’t squeak, whatever the secretaries in the hallway might have said to the contrary.
“I’ll pay double, same as before,” Jared said hurriedly.
Jensen knew, then, that if he explained the truth to Jared, Jared would hang up and never call back. Never answer any calls that Jensen would never work up the courage to make in the first place. And Jensen would miss out on another chance to fuck Jared and maybe find out if he’d seen the error of his ways with respect to the Natural History Museum.
And it wasn’t like Jensen was going to get confused about whether this was a real relationship. Not with the meter ticking. He wouldn’t want more than Jared could give, because what Jared could give was absolutely, one hundred percent clear.
“What time and where?” he asked, closing his eyes.
After he’d taken down the details, he went back to the meeting, where they were debating the extent to which they could incorporate the latest demands into the Johnson deal. Jensen didn’t even know why they were having this meeting, since the principals were set to resume negotiations at the end of the week, but he guessed that was why they paid the partners the big bucks.
Part 2
comments on DW | reply there. I have invites or you can use OpenID.
Note: Here it goes, another wall I thought would never fall. CW RPF: J2, AU. Explicit. Thanks to
giandujakiss for beta.
Content notes: see prompt-sex work, deception.
Prompt from the SPN/J2 sex industry fic meme: Jensen's ego is stinging four weeks after being dumped by his long time boyfriend. He's been turning down guys left and right because, while he wouldn't mind some nice, no-strings-attached sex, he's more than a little scared of any kind of rejection. Enter the hot guy in the expensive suit who's been drinking the bar's best all night. Jensen nearly swallows his tongue when hot guy sidles up and says he'll pay double Jensen's going rate if he agrees to leave right the fuck now. Jensen's more than a little peeved that the guy thinks he's a hooker, but when he names an outrageous price off the top of his head, and the guy agrees without blinking an eye, he feels all his insecurities vanish. At least until a few months later when he realizes he may be in love with his one and only regular.
Me again: Sorry, I tweaked it a bit and didn’t quite work all the optional parts in.
Read the whole thing on the AO3.
Jensen should have known that it was bad when Paul was still there, half an hour past the time Jensen had agreed to meet him at the restaurant. “Sorry,” Jensen said, sliding into the seat across from Paul. “There was a crisis with the license agreement-”
“Stop it,” Paul said, pushing his empty beer bottle away. His eyes were sparkling and his brows drawn tight with anger. He looked as gorgeous as he had the day they’d met at the bar mixer, when his animation was all outrage at the state of the juvenile justice system; he still made Jensen’s breath catch, even now that it was Jensen and not undertrained guards riling him up.
Jensen shut his mouth, despite wanting very much to continue his explanation. Then his training overcame his caution. “Paul-”
“You know what?” Paul didn’t wait for an answer. “The only thing worse than having you ignore me for work is having you talk about work, and since those are the only two things you do, I’m done. I kept thinking that it was worth it ‘cause you’re hot, but it turns out that not even I’m that shallow.”
“I-”
“Put this in whatever computer system you use instead of a brain: looking pretty and sucking cock is not enough to get you a relationship. You can mail me my keys.” He stood up so fast his chair rocked, and then he was hurrying away.
Jensen gaped after him, hand raised as if he could somehow reach out and, Darth Vader-like, pull Paul back. Then, slowly, he sat back in his seat, trying not to look around to see exactly how many people had watched his utter humiliation. He could feel his skin reddening and kind of hoped to burst into flames right there.
No such luck. His phone buzzed, which was probably Bruce wanting to know if Jensen had incorporated the changes from the tax guys into the latest draft of the contract. The funny thing was, Jensen had desperately wanted Paul to like him, and he thought Bruce was an ass, and yet he’d spent eighty hours in the past ten days on Bruce’s contract and only maybe ten minutes talking to Paul in a context that wasn’t either sex-related or while Jensen was in the process of getting ready to go to the law firm.
I am such a loser, he thought. Four guys, four years, all of them eventually in full rebellion against Jensen’s workaholic tendencies. Apparently the only thing he could count on to stick with him were his student loans.
“Excuse me, sir,” the waiter said, sidling up. “Will you be ordering?”
Jensen tugged at the knot of his tie and shook his head. He wasn’t up to talking, so he made the universal ‘check please’ hand gesture, knowing that he was being even more of an asshole-but then again, apparently he didn’t have any further to fall in that department.
He’d really thought that Paul liked him, how intense he got over his work-Bruce was an ass, all right, but Jensen was good at his job, figuring out the tangles made by words and how to straighten them out and curl them up again to serve the client. He’d thought that they shared that intensity, but apparently all Paul had seen was Jensen’s face, like everybody else.
He left a big tip, along with what felt like a chunk of his heart.
****
Jensen took another protective sip of his beer. It tasted more like soapy water than anything he’d actually want to drink, but the crowd at the bar was so packed that he was getting shoved this way and that and a highball would have been an invitation to take a sticky bath. Jensen was considering it anyway-if he was lucky, maybe a hot guy would careen into him and then be honor-bound to offer to buy him another. But then again, he’d already turned down three come-ons, not counting the hands he’d removed from various parts of his person.
He wanted to get laid. Really, he did. He’d even dressed up, tight jeans and tighter shirt, product in his hair and maybe (not that he’d admit it) a little gloss and eyeliner. His shirt practically had the slogan ‘I could be yours if you play your cards right’ on it. But every time he tried to smile back at them, he just flashed forward to a month or so later, when they’d be telling him that he couldn’t just expect them to be around on the rare occasions he emerged for air and decided he’d like to pretend to be a boyfriend.
Two more guys leaned in to yell in his ear before Jensen decided that there were better ways to use his night off than to lose his hearing and watch other people hook up. He shook his head one last time and turned towards the exit.
That was when the hottest man Jensen had seen in the place, ever, planted himself in front of Jensen. He was wearing a suit as well-cut as any worn by the equity partners in Jensen’s firm, except that the equity partners didn’t generally pair a bespoke jacket with a muscle-hugging white T-shirt that was either damp with sweat or with the drool of onlookers. Jesus, the last time he’d seen pecs like that he’d been watching bodybuilders. Jensen bit his lip to keep himself from reaching out and touching, then forced his eyes up enough to look at the guy’s face. Long dark hair, strands stuck together with sweat, and slanted eyes glimmering with humor. Jensen wasn’t short, but this guy was at least three inches taller.
Say something, he told himself. Except that the guy leaned down before Jensen could formulate a sentence. His lips brushed Jensen’s ear as he said, “Come with me right now and I’ll pay twice your regular rate.”
For a second, all Jensen could think about was the rate the firm billed him at. “Six hundred an hour?” he asked, nearly blank with shock, except the guy must not have heard it as a question, because he just nodded and grabbed Jensen’s arm, firm but not painful, and started walking them towards the door.
Three steps in, Jensen figured out that the guy had probably not been talking about the price of legal services, and he nearly fell over his own feet. But the guy pulled him in closer, grinning like Jensen had just made a hilarious joke, and Jensen’s brain vapor-locked.
‘Why not?’ was the first thing in his head when they pushed through the doors and the cooler night air hit him, startling his thoughts into rebooting. Not that he was going to take Hot Guy’s money, of course. But if Hot Guy thought that Jensen was there to get paid, then there was no way he wanted anything other than Jensen’s ass and he wasn’t going to be disappointed. And whatever else Jensen wanted, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to get it, so he might as well relax and have some fun, right?
“I’m Jensen,” he said, voice too loud now that they were out of the bar.
Hot Guy looked over, amused. He still hadn’t let go of Jensen’s arm. “Jared,” he said, after a moment. Maybe it was an alias, Jensen thought. “My hotel’s just up the block.” He sounded relaxed, like the evening was going just as he’d planned, but his tone didn’t invite a response.
Right, so Jared wasn’t really into casual conversation. Why would he be? He hadn’t exactly picked Jensen out of the crowd because of his fantastic performance in moot court. But Jensen hadn’t stopped him, because before he’d been Jared he’d been Hot Guy, which meant that Jensen had precisely zero legs to stand on even without the part where he was letting Jared assume he was a hooker. (Also, apparently Jensen had overshot ‘wants to get laid’ by a country mile, which was … dispiriting. Maybe next time he’d skip the eyeliner.)
Jensen managed not to dig himself in further with failed conversational gambits by virtue of barely looking at Jared at all for the rest of the walk to the hotel, through the over-airconditioned lobby, and up in the elevator.
Jared was stripping off his jacket before the door to his room swung closed, tossing it over a chair as he turned to inspect Jensen, nodding to himself. “Why don’t you take off your clothes?” he asked, the way one of the partners at the firm would ask if Jensen wanted to take on an important matter-which meant that he wasn’t asking at all.
Jensen felt himself blushing, and hid it by pulling his T-shirt up and over his head. Then, because this was why he’d followed Jared, he unbuckled his belt and slid it out of the loops. Then his shoes, toed off, and a quick bend to get rid of his socks without looking too goddamned stupid.
His hands hesitated on the top button of his jeans. When he looked up, Jared was sitting on the edge of the fucking enormous hotel bed, shirtless now. He was muscled like an Alex Ross superhero, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands, staring openly at Jensen. “Don’t stop on my account,” he said, again with that note in his voice like he was laughing at himself and at Jensen at the same time. Jensen’s stomach flipped, but he flicked the buttons open and skinned down his jeans and boxer-briefs together. His dick, already taking an interest, twitched and thickened further when Jared smirked.
“I want you to suck my cock,” Jared said, and maybe Jensen should’ve disabused him of the notion that this was a business arrangement already, except that Jesus fuck it was hot to be getting ordered around like this, which-a small part of Jensen’s mind noted-was a little surprising given how much yessirring Jensen did on a daily basis already. Only this time at least he was going to get an orgasm out of it, instead of the usual backache/lack-of-sleep/boyfriend-abandoning-him-in-disgust combo.
Snapping himself back to reality, Jensen nodded and tried to cross the floor in as non-dorky a way as possible, which was probably hopeless but fortunately Jared wasn’t all that far away. Jensen sank to his knees between Jared’s spread legs and reached for Jared’s belt, thin leather as expensive as the rest of his outfit. Jared’s cock was already pushing out against the fine wool of his pants, and Jensen hurried to get the fly open with almost equal concern for the suit as for Jared. Except that his mouth was watering, so maybe he was a little more interested in what was underneath the suit. Jared helped, undoing the interior button that helped the pants hang better (Bruce had given a lecture on this exact topic one interminable taxi ride to the airport on the way to a deposition; Jensen appreciated it much more now that he’d seen how Jared looked, though honestly Jared would have been scorching in burlap) and raising his hips so that Jensen could get his pants and shorts down.
Jensen stopped and stared. He kind of wanted to say something, but he figured that Jared was probably about as used to comments on the size of his cock as Jensen was to expressions of interest in his cocksucking mouth. Come to think of it, that was a good pairing. Like peanut butter and jelly, but with extra sex. Jensen licked his lips, and Jared made a small, impatient sound. Jensen took a deep breath and bent forward, letting his tongue roll around Jared’s cockhead, swelling even as Jensen got his first taste.
There was no way Jensen was getting all of that in his mouth, so he brought one hand up even as he worked himself as far down as he could, raising up on his knees. Jared’s cock was just as thick and silky-smooth under his fingers as it was in his mouth, thick veins rising under his fingers as he worked down Jared’s shaft, using the spit leaking out of his mouth to ease his way back up. Jared’s taste was strong, day’s-end strong, and Jensen wanted as much of it as he could get.
He moved slowly, and Jared was polite (or had a healthy respect for the ordinary gag reflex) and didn’t shove forwards, so Jensen put his free hand on Jared’s thigh, stopping to feel the muscle twitch, and slid up until he was cupping Jared’s balls, his fingers trapped against the crease of Jared’s thigh. With his eyes closed, he felt-weirdly safe. Like he could keep doing this forever, even though his jaw was going to crack and his tongue was going numb. Just giving pleasure, happy in the moment because there was no future to it at all.
When he pulled back to breathe, Jared put a hand on his shoulder, and Jensen looked up, lips still wrapped around that perfect, sticky-smooth head. The way Jared gasped told Jensen just how he looked.
“Jeez,” Jared exhaled, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”
Jensen was a supporter of that plan. He let Jared’s dick slide all the way out of his mouth, wobbling a little, and rose to his feet.
“On your back,” Jared said. “Use a pillow. I want to watch you open yourself up.”
Jensen swallowed the ‘oh fuck’ that wanted to come out. His lovers had always been about requests and negotiation, and his one-night stands even more so-all the care you took when you wanted to get laid again, or when you didn’t want the guy to get pissed off or freaked out and leave in the middle. He’d never been a sure thing like this before. He was so hard his dick slapped his stomach when he managed to wrestle a pillow out from the huge pile provided by the hotel, and then he was on his back, as ordered, hips tilted up as he looked around wildly, only then realizing that he didn’t exactly have the necessary supplies.
Fortunately, Jared had been well-prepared for his own night on the town, and there was a bottle of lube alongside a box of condoms on the nightstand. Jared reached over and handed him the lube with a grin that would’ve made Jensen blush if all his blood hadn’t migrated to his dick, and he fumbled it open, his fingers instantly slick and messy.
He drew his legs up, letting his knees fall apart as his heels brushed against the edge of the pillow, feeling obscene and proud of it. Jared sat on the edge of the bed again, twisted this time so that he could watch. Jensen pushed two fingers inside himself at once, not minding the sting because of the hunger on Jared’s face, then added a third as soon as he could breathe again. His other hand rubbed up and down his cock, pressing it down into his belly. He closed his eyes as he spread his fingers, knowing he wasn’t going to be close to ready but wanting it anyway.
Jensen heard the rip of the condom packet; Jared was on the bed when he opened his eyes, stalking towards him on hands and knees. Jensen managed to pull his fingers out and grab on to the back of his thigh, lifting his leg to give Jared more room to work.
Jared felt even bigger than he looked, pushing in with a steady strength that said he could’ve gone faster if he wanted, grunting a little as he put his huge hands under Jensen’s knees and pressed them up towards his chest. Jensen’s tendons were probably protesting, but he couldn’t feel anything other than the thick slide of Jared’s cock. Gasping, he tried to relax and take it, letting his own hands fall to his sides, clenching in the covers.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” Jared said, surprised and almost to himself. Jensen grunted and made himself open up further, just as Jared pushed forward and slammed home, his flat belly brushing against Jensen’s balls. Jensen shuddered and squirmed, nowhere to go even if he’d wanted to move.
And then Jared really started to give it to him, rocking his hips back and forth like he seriously thought he was going to get in deeper. Jensen could barely breathe, all that weight above and, Christ, inside him; he clutched at Jared’s biceps out of pure self-defense and then couldn’t help but love the feel of solid muscle, moaning even louder. His cock had softened some just from the shock, but he was quickly regaining his arousal. He could feel the slippery-wet head of his cock rubbing against Jared’s abs.
“Talk to me,” Jared ordered.
Seriously? Yeah, Jensen’s day job involved producing words on demand, but this-
Well, okay. “Nnrrgh,” he began, then took a deep breath. “Feel so fucking good inside me. So fucking hot, your gorgeous cock-” Jared thrust extra hard, and Jensen basically lost the plot. When his head cleared, he was still babbling, something about how he’d suck Jared all night long if he could. Jared was urging him on, asking “You like that?” and variants, which meant that it was okay for Jensen to dissolve into nothing much more than “yeah” and “please” and “yeah” again. Finally, when Jensen thought he was just about to die, Jared reached between them to wrap a big hand around his cock, and that was it, game over, tilt tilt tilt.
He came like he hadn’t in months, maybe years, going boneless and heavy even as Jared’s dick seemed to get bigger inside him, their chests slip-sliding together, both of them wet with Jensen’s come. Jensen blinked up and saw Jared’s head thrown back, long line of his throat and jaw like some sculptor’s wet dream.
“Fuck,” Jared said-as good as Jensen felt, it sounded like the wisdom of the ages, and he would’ve nodded if he’d had the energy-and came, his whole body stiffening and then collapsing on Jensen’s.
They lay there, panting, until Jensen really had to move his legs, and then he sort of wriggled them feebly until Jared got the message and pulled out, carefully bringing the condom with him. Holy fuck Jensen was going to be sore in the morning, but it had been worth every twinge.
Jared rolled onto his back next to Jensen, breathing hard. “That was awesome,” he said, and Jensen was not about to disagree. He tugged the condom off and tossed it over the side; Jensen had a moment of ewww, not wanting to step on it later, and brought his head up just enough to see that Jared, amazingly, had managed to lob the thing straight into the trash can. So: rich, hot, and well-coordinated. Jensen had a flash of one of those Hollywood celebrities explaining why he’d hired a hooker-I don’t pay them for the sex, the guy’d said. I pay them to go away after.
It was a little bit of a buzz kill, but Jensen resolved to be well-behaved. As soon as he caught his breath, he’d leave-refusing any money of course, but out the door before anything could get awkward.
Except that Jared sighed, satisfied but loud, and folded his hands on his (extremely well-cut) stomach. “Lick me clean,” he said, like that was something that you could actually say.
Jensen felt his mouth fall open. Jared looked over and grinned. “My hour’s not even up,” he said. Jensen had the irrational urge to explain that, as a matter of fact, he was used to keeping time in six-minute increments.
But that was not who he was tonight, apparently. Tonight he was apparently the guy who dutifully scooted down the bed and got on his hands and knees and started in again on that amazing cock, soft now and covered with a not entirely unpleasant mix of come and residue from the condom. He used his tongue to sweep up and down, unwilling to miss any patch of skin. The taste wasn’t the best thing ever, yes, but Jensen couldn’t help but think about how all that mess got there, thick and salty and only somewhat plasticky, plus he could get almost all of Jared’s dick in his mouth this way and Jared was staring down at him like he was setting an Olympic record in cocksucking, so it was overall pretty hot.
And then Jared’s length started to swell, forcing Jensen to back off some. He raised his eyebrows-are you fucking kidding me?-and Jared shrugged, more smug than sheepish, as he got all the way hard again, faster than Jensen had managed since he was maybe seventeen.
“That’s good,” Jared said, one hand on Jensen’s shoulder to push him back. “You stay right there.” He reached for another condom, and before Jensen could really process what was going on, he was behind Jensen, pushing him further up the bed and shoving his knees between Jensen’s, one hand heavy on the nape of Jensen’s neck.
He pushed in even more smoothly this time, bottoming out like he knew exactly how hard to thrust to keep from crossing the line into pain. Jensen felt strange, floaty, like even his heartbeat was tied to how Jared was moving inside him. He wasn’t going to come again soon, probably couldn’t even get hard, but every nerve was lit up with sensation. He concentrated on keeping his arms and legs from giving out on him and on rocking his hips back to match Jared’s movements.
Jared grunted and shifted his hand; now he was holding on to Jensen’s shoulders, pulling him back as his knees pushed Jensen’s further out, destabilizing him and pushing him further down on Jared’s cock. Jensen opened his mouth to protest but all that came out was a ragged “unnhh” that, even in his own ears, sounded more encouraging than pained.
Jared fucked him like that for a while, until Jensen’s thighs were shaking and he’d lost control of his arms and faceplanted into the soft, clean-smelling covers. Jared’s hands had drifted down to Jensen’s hips, holding him in place as if Jensen had anywhere to go, and then Jared slid one hand all the way up Jensen’s back, over his shoulder, curving around his neck and finally over his jaw, thumb pressing into Jensen’s mouth with the same entitlement Jared had shown from the beginning. Jensen moaned and let him in, sucking sloppily, nipping at the pad of Jared’s thumb. His skin tingled with aftershocks everywhere Jared had touched him.
“God,” Jared said, like he was surprised, and then bucked his hips forward one last time and came. He collapsed down onto Jensen in slow motion, flailing with his other hand to take care of the condom, and somehow they ended up smashed together in a way that was probably going to get uncomfortable fast, Jared’s mouth pressed into Jensen’s neck and his leg splayed across Jensen’s. Jensen’s face was mostly pressed into a pillow; he had one eye and one nostril free, and Jared was still playing with his mouth, letting Jensen lick at his fingers. They were rough and salty and Jensen could’ve kept going for hours.
“Mmm,” Jared hummed. “I need a snack. You want to eat?”
Jensen thought about it, to the extent that he could think. “Whaddaya got?”
Jared pulled away-Jensen couldn’t stop himself from wriggling a little, suddenly cold-and Jensen heard some fumbling noises. A menu landed next to his face. “Anything you want,” Jared said.
Jensen blinked. He really was not up to making complicated decisions like this. But food did sound good. “Get two of whatever you’re having.” So far, Jared hadn’t exactly steered him wrong. And buying your date dinner was absolutely not the same thing as paying for sex, right?
More noise. “Yeah, hi,” Jared said, voice muffled by the phone. “Two steaks, baked potato, asparagus. And two slices of key lime pie. Great, thanks.” Jensen heard footsteps over the carpet. “If you hate key lime, I’ll eat your slice.”
Jensen made himself roll over and smile up at Jared. Wouldn’t do to pass out right now. That would be rude. “Key lime’s awesome,” he said. “I’m a little surprised you eat dessert.” Somehow, he made his hand rise enough to wave basically in the direction of Jared’s muscles.
Jared actually got pink, high on his cheeks. “Metabolism,” he said. “And, you know, an hour in the gym every day, plus I run with my dogs …” He stopped, as if realizing that he didn’t owe Jensen any sort of explanation. Jensen nodded, keeping the smile on his face. Jensen himself got most of his exercise running up and down stairs at the firm, and he’d have to pay for his pie with coffee for lunch the next few days, but he wasn’t going to worry about that now.
“Hey,” Jared said brightly. “How about a shower?”
“Even more awesome than key lime,” Jensen agreed.
The stall was pretty big-Jensen hadn’t quite noticed just how fancy the hotel was on the way in, but he was beginning to get a sense of why Jared hadn’t flinched at the thought of paying six hundred an hour-but the two of them still barely fit in. There was a lot of rubbing and jostling and soap-stealing. Though maybe that would’ve happened even if they’d been in a space twice as large, because it was all fun. Jensen could tell that his ass and even his legs would be hating him tomorrow, but the full soreness hadn’t set in yet and he was still riding the endorphins, so right now it was smooth sailing.
Just as they got out, there was a knock at the door, and Jared wrapped a towel around his waist to get the food. Jensen peered out of the bathroom, enjoying the play of muscles in Jared’s back, and for a moment he wanted to let himself pretend that this was the start of something real.
But guys like Jared self-evidently weren’t interested in overworked associates whose best conversational gambits centered on the latest outrage from the Fifth Circuit and the fascinating implications of the termination of transfer of copyright in Superman and the scope of the rights in the character exclusively as he existed as of Action Comics #1, but not as he was later developed. (Superman! Jensen would have thought that everything involving Superman was interesting to other people, but, sadly, no.)
“Come on,” Jared called. “This food’s too good to waste.”
So Jensen grabbed a towel of his own and went out to enjoy the moment.
Jared was right about the food, too.
And, as it turned out, Jared was smart and funny, full of jokes about the differences between Texas and DC (he was from Texas, Jesus wept, the perfect man if not for the small fact that he thought he’d purchased Jensen’s sexual favors). Jensen did his best to, well, not be himself, talking only about restaurants and good places to be a tourist. Since he couldn’t discuss his profession (real or accidental-presumed), it wasn’t as difficult as he usually found casual conversation. There was something oddly liberating about talking with a guy who was (a) never going to be around again and (b) completely mistaken about who Jensen was. Jensen found that he actually had some strong opinions about the various Smithsonian museums and that Jared had equally strong, though completely misguided, ideas of which he very much needed to be disabused before he headed back to Texas to spread his misinformation.
As he scraped the last graham cracker crumbs off of his plate, Jensen tried to figure out exactly what he was going to say to explain that, no, he wasn’t really a hooker, but yes, he’d leave quietly and without a fuss. Maybe he could just stand up and start getting dressed.
Except that when he looked up, Jared was sitting back on the bed, towel discarded, one knee drawn up and the other off to the side, looking like a Playgirl centerfold up against the mountain of hotel pillows. His hand was working his cock, which was already half-hard.
No, seriously, are you fucking kidding me? did not come out of Jensen’s mouth, but he was pretty sure his expression was saying most of that for him.
“Come on,” Jared said, almost wheedling.
Jensen had sat there (wincing, to be sure, but he’d sat) and eaten the man’s food. As far as Jared was concerned, Jensen was still on the clock.
His ass wasn’t going to be happy tomorrow anyway, and Jared looked so good when he smiled. Jensen took a breath and stood, abandoning his towel.
By the time he joined Jared on the bed, Jared had the condom on and was reaching for the lube. “Allow me,” he said, and Jensen wasn’t going to dissuade him, so Jensen ended up crouched above Jared while Jared pushed his fingers deep inside-nothing like his cock, but they still felt enormous, stretching him open again. Then Jared pulled him down onto that thick, awesome dick, until he was riding Jared face-to-face, his head spinning as he clamped his thighs around Jared’s waist and hung on.
“You have the most amazing pelvic cut,” he told Jared, lightheaded as if he’d been drinking tequila instead of getting fucked for the past couple of hours.
Jared laughed, but not meanly, more as if he was happy to see Jensen happy, which was in some ways totally unfair. But Jensen pushed all that aside-there wasn’t much room in his head right now, which was just the way he liked it-and shifted his weight so that he wasn’t bruising himself quite so badly on Jared’s hipbones.
Jared cupped Jensen’s face, and Jensen instinctively turned to mouth against his palm. God, he could get addicted to the taste of Jared’s skin, shower-clean now but still with that slight bite of salt. But Jared turned him gently back, pulling forward, and then they were kissing, sweet and wet but just barely pushing their tongues together, kind of a stunning contrast to how deep Jared was inside him.
Jensen’s thighs were so exhausted that he could barely move himself back and forth, but Jared didn’t complain. When their mouths broke apart, Jared looked nearly as stunned as Jensen felt. “Can you get yourself off? I want you to come on me,” Jared said, so low that Jensen barely heard him even from inches away. But once he’d processed the words, his dick jumped. He hadn’t expected-but Jared had asked, and it would be rude to refuse, surely.
Jensen leaned back a little, putting more of his weight on Jared’s thighs, and brought his hand up to his mouth, licking the palm. Then, struck by an impulse, he offered his fingers to Jared. Jared’s teeth were sharp, almost painful, but his tongue was hot and wet and the look on his face when his eyes closed and he sucked hard was enough to get Jensen well past the starting line even before he managed to wrap his spit-slick hand around his cock.
They both bent their heads until their foreheads touched, watching Jensen work. He’d slowed his rhythm on Jared to almost nothing, just rocking his hips up and down. His dick was hot and heavy, oversensitive so that he could barely stand to keep his grip even as he couldn’t stop squeezing and pulling. Jared was panting, and Jensen could feel the air currents moving thick and humid on the head of his dick.
The sound Jensen made when he came was unrecognizable as a word. He could feel himself clenching around Jared’s cock, painful-good. Backsplashes of his own jizz hit his fingers, but most of it ended up on Jared’s stomach, messing up all that nice clean skin. He wasn’t even done coming when Jared growled, surged up, and had him on his back again, fucking into him like he was going to die if he didn’t get there in the next minute.
Jensen lay there and took it, loose-limbed and balloon-headed, letting his legs widen further to give Jared a better angle. Jared had his eyes closed, face screwed up in concentration, mouth pink and used, and Jensen’s cock gave one last, near-painful twitch as Jared pushed them so far that Jensen’s head hung off the edge of the bed and groaned out his orgasm.
This time, Jensen did whimper when Jared pulled out, and Jared made a sort of cooing, soothing sound that made Jensen want to hit him, except that his bones had been turned to Silly Putty.
He’d get up in a minute. Tell Jared that it had been amazing, wish him the best of luck on his business trip, and disappear from his life.
In just a minute.
****
Jensen woke with a foul taste in his mouth and the too-familiar ache of having left his contacts in too long. The phone was ringing, except he never had his phone set to ring.
Which was, he realized as he rolled over towards the noise, because he was still in Jared’s hotel room. Also, fucking ow.
After a few pathetic attempts, he managed to grab the receiver off of the end table. An automated voice told him that this was his eight am wakeup call.
Fuck.
Oh, he didn’t need to be at the office until ten; on a Saturday ten was reasonable. But if he hadn’t gone home-
“Jared?” he asked.
Silence.
When Jensen investigated-moving slowly in the delusion that taking care would help him feel less like he’d been turned on a spit-he found his cellphone on the table below the big mirror, weighing down an envelope with the hotel’s address on it; obviously Jared had used the phone to make sure he wouldn’t leave without seeing the envelope.
“Fuck,” he said to the uncaring, empty room. Carefully, he pulled out the note, ignoring for the moment the stack of cash it was wrapped around.
“Jensen,” the note said in sloppy but readable handwriting. “I had a fantastic time. Thanks!”
Jensen stared at his phone like it was the idiot that had passed out and left his pickup with the impression that his virtue was negotiable.
The envelope held three thousand dollars.
Either Jensen’s time sense was way off, or Jared was also a big tipper.
Now what?
His stomach growled, and simultaneously he remembered that the Johnson deal memo was due on Monday, which pretty much decisively answered the ‘what now’ question. But he had no idea what to do with the money. Maybe he could leave it with the hotel, and ask them to return it to … Jared, if that was his name, with no last name, staying in room 1710? Yeah, he could do that, if his best-case scenario was dying of embarrassment. Worst-case was some sort of horrible solicitation arrest, disbarment, slow starvation on the streets-
Okay, no.
Maybe he could give the money to charity. Were there reporting requirements on cash? Shit, he’d have to look that up.
In the meantime, he had a walk of shame and a deal memo to finish.
Still, he couldn’t help but smile as he opened the door to leave the room, and the lingering scent of Jared, behind. However it had happened, the hottest guy this side of Angelina Jolie had picked him, and then they’d had crazy sex for hours. That was definitely worth some compensation-related misunderstandings.
And when he remembered this-because it was going to be a key part of his fantasy life for years to come, that was for sure-he could edit out those awkward bits.
****
Which worked fine until two weeks later, when his phone buzzed in the middle of a meeting and the name on the display was Jared’s.
Jensen froze for a second, then made frantic hand motions that he hoped conveyed ‘I have to take this’ as he hurried out into the hallway.
“Jared?” he asked, dumbfounded.
“Jensen, hi!” Jared sounded cheerful.
“You called,” Jensen said, then wanted to smack himself in the face.
“Yeah,” Jared said, dampened a little. “I programmed my number into your phone, I hope that’s okay.” He sounded tentative now, like he was going to try very hard not to be hurt if Jensen reacted badly.
“No, no, that’s fine,” Jensen said, because he didn’t want to hurt Jared, who’d been a nice guy-except for the whole money thing and Jesus Christ-
“Anyway,” Jared said, before Jensen could really wrap his mind around revisiting previous events, “I’m gonna be in town Friday night, and I wondered if you were. You know. Available.”
“Friday?” Jensen repeated. He didn’t squeak, whatever the secretaries in the hallway might have said to the contrary.
“I’ll pay double, same as before,” Jared said hurriedly.
Jensen knew, then, that if he explained the truth to Jared, Jared would hang up and never call back. Never answer any calls that Jensen would never work up the courage to make in the first place. And Jensen would miss out on another chance to fuck Jared and maybe find out if he’d seen the error of his ways with respect to the Natural History Museum.
And it wasn’t like Jensen was going to get confused about whether this was a real relationship. Not with the meter ticking. He wouldn’t want more than Jared could give, because what Jared could give was absolutely, one hundred percent clear.
“What time and where?” he asked, closing his eyes.
After he’d taken down the details, he went back to the meeting, where they were debating the extent to which they could incorporate the latest demands into the Johnson deal. Jensen didn’t even know why they were having this meeting, since the principals were set to resume negotiations at the end of the week, but he guessed that was why they paid the partners the big bucks.
Part 2
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