Author name: herminekurotowa
Artist name: m14mouse
Genre: RPS, slash
Pairing: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/OMC
Word count: 20.000
Warnings: Hooker!Jensen, discussion of suicide, blow jobs, bloodplay, facial, handcuffs, BAMF!Jensen, naked!BAMF!Jensen, hurt!Jared, drugging, attempted non-con, schmoop. And no porn, earnestly.
No bunnies were seriously harmed in the writing of this fic.
Summary: Jensen is a nice guy. He's kind and attentive, and there's a room in his apartment for his cats and bunnies he's occasionally feeding from. He works as a hooker for Frederic Lehne though he's badass when it comes to defending his ass against sleazy clients. That's one of the secrets he wants to tell his boyfriend Jared but he never has occasion to do it before he gets seriously hurt. A furious Jensen - even when naked - is something you better don't want to witness.
A little wooden toy cowboy is all Jared has left from his family. He falls for Jensen head over heels and even comes to terms with him working the streets - it makes for the best blow jobs, after all. Unfortunately, he will not get to know his other, bigger secret in this story - being shot at and lying in a coma is pretty obstructive.
Sometimes, Felicia is downright scary. It's not her glaring at people or threatening guys who hit on her, it's more her uncanny ability to read people.
With his cheap mobile phone, Jared took a photograph of Jensen, the sunlight a halo behind his blond hair. He showed it to Felicia after she threatened to dunk him in the floor bucket, and she's swooning over Jared's 'cutie pie boyfriend'.
Jared's embarrassed, he can feel a blush rising and coloring his ears pink.
On his way to restock the tinned vegetables, taking a look at the photo, Misha asks, “You into underage hookers now?”
Jared freezes. “What do you mean?”
Felicia glares daggers at Misha who innocently says, “I was heading for my friend, Chris's, place yesterday and drove through 10th, you know, where the hookers are. That boy there was obviously selling, you know, himself.”
There's not enough air in the store, Jared can't breathe.
Jensen's a waiter, not a prostitute.
Felicia's protective instinct takes over. “You wanna tell me you drove through 10th by pure chance? Didn't wanna buy a nice piece of ass for yourself, did you?”
Misha's blushing crimson. “Felicia, you know I'd never... you know. 10th Street is a shortcut to Chris'. Really, it is.”
The sound of his blood is deafening in Jared's ears. He needs to get out, needs to get some air. Needs to ask Jensen. Yes, he said he had secrets, but Jared would never have thought of... something this big.
He admitted to having done drugs, so if the secret was about drugs... or his ex-boyfriend... But prostitution?
Uttering an excuse to his co-workers, Jared shoves the backdoor open, stepping out into the alley behind the store where the dumpsters are. Misha and Felicia's bickering is fading as the door closes behind him. Leaning with his back against it, he takes a deep breath.
The air smells like smoke.
There's some noise at the dumpsters caused by two men who are obviously tampering with one of them. They don't seem to be homeless because they don't dart off when Jared approaches.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
Both men face him with a menacing stance. Not homeless guys, but gang members. “You better bugger off, kid.”
Jared snorts. “Really? You're calling me kid?”
They're both half his size and even younger than him. But they just set the dumpster on fire, and one of them is brandishing a gigantic knife.
“Alright, I'm gonna call the fire department. You get out of here, and nobody gets hurt.”
“Oh, you think so?” the boy says, thrusting his weapon forward.
Jared dodges the knife, but there is no way he can dodge the two-by-four the other boy's wielding. The blow hits his knees. He can block another stab from the knife from hitting his torso, slicing his hand open, but he can't fend off the blow with the two-by-four to his back that brings him down.
There is a loud crack, and Jared thinks it's the sound of a pole breaking, but pain blooms from the back of his head. The world is tilting, fading out, until there's nothing left but darkness.
The world is a loud place, too loud and too bright. That's why Jared chooses to keep his eyes shut and sleep some more.
The next time, the world is less loud, but still too bright, so he contemplates with his eyes shut whether he has a headache or not. Inside his skull, there's a funny kind of pressure, like cotton in a too small container. It doesn't hurt, but it's kind of annoying.
Jared deduces from the smell of antiseptic and the constant beeping of machines that he's in a hospital.
That's strange. He was in the store, cleaning, as always. And then there was... what? What happened?
Jared opens his eyes, asking the universe, “What happened?”
“Oh good, finally,” a familiar voice answers. “I'm going to tell the nurse that you're awake.”
Jared turns his head to one side where a little old man sits in a plastic chair, reaching for the call button.
“Mr Kim, please. What happened?”
Jared's employer hesitates. Clearing his throat, he says, “You've had a run-in with some gang members. They tried to get rid of some stuff by burning it in one of the dumpsters behind my store. Unfortunately, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, they hurt you.”
“But... I don't remember.”
“That's the concussion, I think. Let me get the nurse and the doctor, you can ask them.”
The doctor is a large ginger-haired man with a friendly grin and a strange name that Jared forgets immediately after he leaves the room.
“Looks good,” he says after a thorough examination of Jared's sore body, reading his chart and writing on it. “We had to stitch up the cut on your left hand, but it's only shallow. There will be only minimal scarring, if you keep it nice and clean. You have a moderate concussion with no complications, so you can go home in two days. And the amnesia is only temporary, I'm sure you will remember everything in a few days.”
His face is splitting in half with a big, toothy grin. “You've been damn lucky, lad.” He pats Jared's shoulder. “Now I'm gonna leave you to your friends. They've been waiting anxiously to see you. That pretty redhead is quite a force of nature, as it seems.”
The doctor clears his throat. “Do you know... I mean... is she... uhm, single?”
Jared's grinning like a fool himself. “Yeah, she is. Just don't ask for her phone number. Better mention your love for kittens and Indian food.”
“Oh, great. Thank you.”
Ten seconds after the doctor leaving, the force of nature rushes into his room, Misha on her heels. He is holding a couple of floating balloons with colorful prints of Get Well Soon and It's A Boy.
“Oh my god, Jared, I'm so happy that you're okay.” Felicia says, pulling Jared into a tight hug. Misha is standing beside the bed, waving shyly.
“I'm fine, Lish, just have a headache the size of Texas. But I'm fine. What's with the balloons? It's A Boy?”
“Oh, they only had one Get Well balloon, so Misha had to buy the other one.”
“Of course it was me.” Misha says under his breath, though he grins innocently when Felicia looks at him with piercing eyes. It is always better to not anger the force of nature.
Jared's friends stay for a few minutes longer, Felicia talking about the store and the police and that cute doctor, Misha just standing beside the bed, resting his hand on Jared's shoulder. His eyelids are drooping b< the time his friends decide to leave. When the door clicks shut, he is already dead to the world.
He gets the bad news when Mr Kim visits the next day.
“I'm canned?” Jared asks in disbelief.
“I'm so sorry, Jared. The smoke from the dumpster was sucked through the AC vents and an open window into the store. Everything in there is dirty and sooty, almost all the goods need to be trashed. I don't have the energy to start anew. I'm going to sell the store and move to my daughter, that's what I've wanted to do for so long, and now it seems like I'm going to have to.
“You're the best employee I ever had, and I'm really sorry that I have to do this. If you want me to, I'll help you search for a new job.”
Jared knows that, silently, the old man is pleading for forgiveness, that he really is sorry for abandoning his store, but there's another question in Jared's mind that almost leaves no room for anything else.
Where is Jensen?
When you're not waiting on news about your family, it is boring in a hospital. Jared has time to mull over things he doesn't want to right now, like how to get a new job, how to pay the bills for his father's care, does he really want to have a relationship with Jensen.
The last one is easy. Yes. Jensen is kind and attentive, funny and hot like hell. Jared wants to get to know him, but there is something he has forgotten. Something important is lurking in the back of his mind, and he just can't remember it. Damn amnesia.
At first, he was miffed that Jensen didn't show up to make him feel better. He learned though that his phone – and his wallet and his bike – were stolen by those petty criminals so he had no way of letting him know what had happened. When his friends visited – Felicia had called Chad and Osric – he was too overwhelmed by the situation to ask them for a favor. Jared was to bear the blame for Jensen's absence.
Two police officers distract him for a little while, asking about the attackers, but he can't remember, I'm sorry. Promising to keep him up to date, they leave dissatisfied and frustrated. Jared remains convinced more than ever that there's something important in his mind he needs to dig out.
Felicia cleaned his clothes and brought his stuff he'd left behind at the store. Mrs Kim brought him enough sandwiches to feed a small army, and Mr Kim picked him up by car, driving him home. Jared wonders if he deserves their kindness.
His apartment is too quiet. Something... someone's missing.
Standing in his living room, Jared doesn't know what to do. Maybe he should go to Jensen right now. Or maybe not. He is probably working or perhaps he doesn't want to see Jared.
He is standing in his too quiet living room, breathing. That is something he knows how to do, breathe. That's familiar and safe, there is no harm in breathing, no need to decide anything.
He jumps at the thumping at his apartment door, but rushes to open it, and it's Jensen standing there, panting and flushed.
“Are you alright?”
Jared is so relieved he can't stifle a soft laugh. “Yes, I'm fine. Come in.”
He tells his story on the living room couch, tells of forgetting to contact him, of the amnesia, of his stuff being stolen.
“And my bike!” he says full of anger. “Those fuckers stole my bike!”
He can't sit still when thinking about his bike and his phone, he has no money for replacements. There was only ten dollars in his wallet, but he lost a couple of family photographs. It is that loss that is tearing at his heart.
Jensen stands too, taking Jared in his arms, rubbing soothing circles on his back.
“It's okay,” he says. “It's okay.”
Jared tilts his head a bit. The world is blurry through the angry tears he doesn't want to spill, but he can clearly see Jensen's moss green eyes, like a new world of safe and home.
“It's okay. I've got you.” Jensen reassures. His hands are soft when cupping Jared's face, and his lips are warm when brushing over his.
Jared is hesitant at first, then he opens up, needing Jensen like the desert needs rain. He has never been kissed like this before, wholeheartedly, truly. He has never kissed someone like this.
When they stop kissing they're lying on the couch, Jensen half blanketing him. His eyes are dark, hooded, his smile predatory.
Jared's jeans are too tight. His erection is almost painful, rubbing it against Jensen's hip doesn't ease the ache, unfortunately. Though it seems, Jensen has the same problem.
“I've never...”Jared says.
“I know.” Jensen answers. “Just tell me when you want me to stop.”
Hot lips are trailing kisses down Jared's neck, deft fingers working his shirt open, fingernails grazing his nipples. Jared feels like he's never been touched before. He would be stupid if he wanted this to stop.
Jensen breathes against his neck. “God, you smell so good.”
“That's hospital soap.” Jared mutters, bucking his hips.
“No, that's you.”
Every single nerve in his body seems to come alive. Jensen's hands, petting and stroking all over, are setting him on fire, whereas his lips and tongue, kissing and licking, are soothing the burn. Jared's dick, his body's hot center, feels like a molten core. It's hard to stop from coming in his pants.
Jensen's mouth is working on his collarbone, a wet tongue, hot lips, then a grazing of teeth over his skin, breaking it, sinking into his heated flesh. And Jared comes, his dick untouched. The world is narrowing down to the white in his jeans, then it goes gray and black, and then there's nothing.