Hermine Kurotowa (herminekurotowa) wrote,
Hermine Kurotowa

Bread and Blood (3/ 4)

Fic title: Bread and Blood
Author name: herminekurotowa
Artist name: m14mouse
Genre: RPS, slash
Pairing: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/OMC
Rating: NC-17
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.


It's the most wonderful dream Jared has ever had. Unfortunately, he can't remember a thing about it but he knows he's safe and whole. He's keeping his eyes shut because he wants to cherish the feeling.

A rustling disrupts his musing, so he opens his eyes. Staring at the ceiling, he has a strange feeling of déja vu as he asks, “What happened?”

“Thank god, you're awake. How are you, you alright?” It is Jensen speaking, his voice strained.

“I'm... fine,” Jared answers hesitantly. “Really. I'm fine. What happened?”

He is lying in his own bed, fully clothed – how disappointing. Jensen is huddling against the pillows, but keeping a distance to him. He looks pale and restless, fiddling with everything within arm's reach.

“You passed out. I don't know why. I was kissing you, and suddenly, you just passed out. You sure you're fine?”

“Jensen, I'm fine. Actually, I'm great.” Sitting up, he is fingering his collarbone. There is nothing to feel, no trace of broken skin. “Did you bite me?”

Jensen is blushing gorgeously, and Jared is mesmerized by his cinnamon-colored freckles. “Uhm. Maybe... I have a... little kink.” He is wriggling like an eel. “I uhm... like biting my uhm... partner.”

“You bite your partner?”

“Uh, just a little bit? I thought maybe you'd like it, too. And nobody's ever passed out.”

For a beat, Jared is speechless. It's not because of this weird kink of Jensen's, it's because he likes it. Yes, apparently, Jared is as kinky as his boyfriend. The thought of white teeth grazing his skin makes him tense, a tingling at the small of his back, working its way straight to his groin. He's hard, and Jensen notices.

Now it's Jared's turn to blush.

For another beat Jensen's blush deepens, then he scrambles off the bed, saying, “I'm gonna go get some take out,” and rushing out of the bedroom, and the apartment.

Jared drops back onto the pillows. Great. He just chased his boyfriend off due to a bodily reflex. Now he has a hard-on from Hell and is willing it to go down, boy. He doesn't want to take care of it himself, he wants Jensen to do it, running his calloused hands along his sides, trailing his lips across his chest, his teeth – no, not going there.


Jensen's return is... uneventful. No earth-shattering confessions, no trumpets from above. Instead, it's three pizzas, a sixpack and an “I couldn't decide.”

Sitting on the couch, Jared is pleasantly buzzed. Usually, he doesn't drink, but he just can't face this evening stone-cold sober. Jensen, however, still nurses his first beer, apparently wrecked from the evening's previous events, and maintains a safe distance from him.

Their knees are almost touching, and that's more than Jared can bear.

“Look,” he says, putting his empty bottle on the coffee table. “Maybe we can forget what happened today and start over? Take it slow, see what happens?”

“God, yes. Please.” Jensen looks as if those words took a pretty heavy load off his mind. “I was so scared you'd want me to leave.”

“Why? Because of this kink of yours?” Jared laughs. Getting serious, he asks, “You don't have other kinks, do you?”

Choking on a gulp of his bottle, Jensen coughs. “No. No kinks that I know of.”

“Good.” Jared says grinning, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Maybe later, we can find out if I have kinks I don't know of.”

Jensen gulps, blushing, and Jared laughs happily. Messing with Jensen is fun.

Leaning forward, he presses a quick kiss on Jensen's lips. Kissing Jensen is fun, too.


Finding a new job is not easy. Jeff gives him every available shift in his restaurant and club, but it isn't nearly enough. Jared negotiates with the hospital about paying his father's bills in installments. They are sympathetic and cooperative, and he is relieved when he exits the office.

His father doesn't know about the trouble his son suffers, looking frail and pale in his hospital bed. He is hooked on machines that breathe for him, and Jared abhors all of them to his very core.

He knows full well that his dad would be long dead by now without them. Sometimes a thought – not a wish, not yet – crawls in his mind, a thought of how you could go to college when he's gone. Jared, though, doesn't want to walk that road. His dad is still alive and needs him.

“You know,” he says, “I know you wanted me to become a lawyer, just like you. Unfortunately, I thought more about dancing ballet when I was twelve, and it was totally your fault, watching Billy Elliot with me.” He sniffs, smiling under his tears. “Then I wanted to be a fire fighter, and a vet, and a plastic surgeon. Heh, I thought about performing liposuction on Mrs White's fat cat.

“Then there was this case with the boy who sued the hospital that messed up his operation, and you worked so hard to help him, and I thought you were a hero in a suit when you won the case. That's when I decided to become a lawyer, just like you. I wanted to make you proud of me, but I never told you.”

He sighs. “I want to be yelled at because of the scratches on your car I caused. I want to tell you about Jensen. Want to know what you think of him. But I never will... you never will... the doctor said...”

He wipes angrily at the tears on his face.


After visiting his dad, he is devastated. He wants to crawl into his too little bed, curl in on himself and be left alone. But he can't. He has to leave for work in Jeff's club, smiling and flirting the whole night because of the tips he gets slipped. He's exhausted but can't show it.

That's why he's not sure whether it's Jensen he sees walking to the bathroom with another guy. He decides it's not his boyfriend.

Thinking of Jensen, he has the feeling that he is missing something, that he forgot something important but he can't remember for the life of him.

It's almost closing time when The Drunk Idiot sitting in the booth at the back proceeds to attack. He hit on Jared for half the night, but he is so wasted he keeps forgetting that he has already tipped Jared. Jared's wallet sure isn't complaining about the man's misery – “De fugger saiddid was his p'oject an' de fuggers belieeev'd 'im!” –, being as it's noticeably bigger now. The Idiot's pick-up lines, though, are pathetic and annoying after three hours.

“Well, godgeous, what'cha doin' affer work?” he says, leering and groping Jared's butt.

Holding his tray like a protective shield, Jared takes a step sideways. “Going home alone. Sir, I'd rather you kept your hands to yourself.”

Idiot snickers. “Ah, ya don' know whaddya miss. C'm here.” Gripping Jared at his wrist, he draws him closer, tugging and prodding at the same time.

Jared is tempted to hit him with the tray, then he would to loosen his bruising grip, but unfortunately, it's not appropriate to hit the patrons.

“Sir, let go. Please.”

No chance. Suddenly, there is another hand gripping Idiot's arm so hard he has to let go. Surprised, Jared looks up and recognizes Jensen, unmistakably angry.

“Did you know that I'm capable of ripping off dicks right through the clothing?” he says, his eyes blazing green-hot.

“Ehm, no?” Idiot is shrinking to a little heap.

“If you want to, I can show you.”

“Ehm, no?” The heap is shrinking even more.

“Well, good.”

Then Jensen is claiming Jared, right there in the club, with a heated kiss, licking into his mouth, and Jared is... melting. He doesn't hear the catcalls from the patrons and co-workers through the blood pounding in his ears. A few minutes later, he finds himself in a dark and empty office, kissing Jensen again – or still?

Breaking the kiss, he breathlessly declares, “That was so hot. You going all caveman and protective and... dude, that was so hot!”

Dropping onto his knees, his trembling fingers search for Jensen's fly, fumbling with the belt and zipper.

“Jared,” Jensen's voice is strained. “You don't need to...”

“Yes, I do. I want to, Jensen, so badly.”

Jared's first blow job takes place in a dark office in the back of the Lido Nights club. It's sloppy and messy, but it's satisfactory for both sides.

His second blow job takes place an hour later in Jensen's apartment. It's already less sloppy, but definitely still satisfactory.

It's almost noon when Jared wakes up after another night at the club. He slept fitfully, dreaming of things he can't remember, but knowing they're important.

Just as he pours some cereal in a bowl, his new phone – a bargain, of course – chirps with a text. Jensen wants him to come down and meet him on the street. He replies with a give me five and, after inhaling his breakfast, darts out of his apartment and down the stairs.

He almost bumps into the two strangers standing in front of the entry door, looking dangerous to deal with.

Apologizing, Jared tries to scrape by, but a hand on his chest stops him.

“Just a sec, kiddo,” the taller one says. “Do you know a Sam Winchester?”

That's easy. “No. Sorry.”

“He's 6', short hair, blond. Green eyes.” The other guy stares unblinking into his eyes.

“Sorry, I know all the people living in this building. There's no Sam Winchester.”

Taking a measured step – because you should never run from mobsters – , Jared walks alongside the middle building towards the north wing.

There is Jensen with a bike. He is giving Jared a bike. As a present. He says that he doesn't use it, doesn't need it, that he wants to make Jared happy with it.

Jared is happy. He feels like a little boy again, when he got his first bike from his parents. He has to choke back his tears because it's the most wonderful thing – besides meeting Jensen – he has experienced in a long time. As payback, he promises to mount Jensen's book shelves that are still in boxes in his living room.

Assembling the shelves is fun. Jensen's helping as much as he can with his two left hands, first fumbling with the cardboard and the case boards, then with Jared, distracting him with kisses and muffins.

It takes almost the whole Saturday to finish their project, but eventually, all shelves are positioned and all books placed in. The living room looks more inhabited, more comfortable now. Maybe Jared could get some paintings or posters for the bare walls.

Or maybe he should wait for another year or so before he redecorates his boyfriend's apartment.

Boyfriend. He could snuggle down in this word, it's so soft and fluffy, making his heart speed up. He never had similar feelings about his girlfriends, so perhaps he's gay to the core. Or it's just Jensen.

It doesn't matter. Jared is happy, Jensen seems to be happy, too. It doesn't matter how gay he is or isn't, he's in love.


They're both lying on the couch, Jensen spooning behind him, rubbing and petting his arm, watching TV, and Jared's in love.

He has to say something, anything, for a diversion.

“Today, a couple of shady characters were asking for a Sam Winchester. I know that there's no one living under this name here, but you fit the description. So I was wondering... are you a mobster, Jen?”

Jensen laughs low, his voice kind of strained when he replies, “No. No, baby. I'm not a mobster.”

“Great. That's... great.” Jared draws a deep breath. It's now or never. “You know... when I had the run-in with those gang members... when I had the amnesia... I lost something.”

“What do you mean?”

Jared can almost hear the raised eyebrow. “I mean I knew something about you, but not anymore. It was important, and it's poking my mind, but I just can't remember!”

Jensen's hold on Jared's shoulders and chest tightens, he's burying his face in Jared's nape. “I'm so sorry. There's something I need to tell you, but I can't, not yet. Give me time, please.”

Jared twists his head so he can kiss the man behind him. “It's alright. I'm happy you told me. I can wait.”

They're kissing, and it's getting heated. Jensen's hands are roaming about Jared's chest, grazing his nipples, until they meet the waistband of his jeans. He's already achingly hard when Jensen's hands open his jeans, pulling them down with his boxers.

“Jen,” he moans. “Please... please.”

“I'm gonna take care of you, baby,” Jensen says in a hushed tone, kissing down Jared's neck. He's jacking him off with sure, careful strokes.

“Do you trust me, baby?”

Jared's answer is merely a breath of air. “... yes...”

Jensen's teeth scrape along his neck, and Jared's back is arching up with pleasure. Then there's a quick prick of sharp teeth.

Jared comes harder than ever in his life.


Somehow, his life has become weird.

He is constantly looking for a job when he is not working in Jeff's club and restaurant or fixing furniture in the apartment building. He has a gorgeous boyfriend who adores him. The sex is great though all they've done until now are hand jobs and blow jobs. And who'd have thought Jensen's bite kink was a major turn on for Jared?

The problem is this spot in his mind where something should be, but isn't.

Jared needs to ask Misha about it. He doesn't know why, but he knows he does. Luckily, he still has his little note book where all his contacts are written down. In high school, he lost his phone once before, learning the hard way the importance of keeping his contacts elsewhere.

When he calls asking about what happened before the fire, Misha's confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Uhm... I'm kinda... I don't remember what happened.”

“Oh fuck. The attack?”

“Don't remember that either. Can you tell me what happened before I left the store? What I did?”

“Wait a sec. I was uhm... restocking the shelves. You and Felicia were lazing about-”


“Yeah, alright. You were showing a photograph of a cute little hooker-”


“Yeah, I remember driving through 10th and seeing that guy. Man, if I was into dicks...”

A hooker. 10th and neighboring streets are the red light district, everybody knows that. Why in the world would he have a hooker's picture? Unless... Jensen. But Jensen is working as a waiter. Except where... nonono, that's impossible. Jensen's not a hooker.

“Jared?” Misha asks. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks, Mish. See you,” Jared says, ending the call.

Pacing his living room, he needs a few minutes to think. Then he calls Jeff, asking for the night off due to an emergency.

With his bike it's only a few minutes' ride to 10th. Securing it in a safe place, Jared takes a deep breath. He just needs to know if Misha told the truth, if his boyfriend really is walking the streets.

It's a chilly evening, nevertheless the girls standing under the streetlights or leaning against the walls are scantily clad. When he is passing by, looking surreptitiously at them, they scrutinize him. Some are frowning, others are leering.

Jared is feeling uncomfortable.

At the next corner, the girls are replaced by boys, equally barely dressed. They're so young, God, only teenagers, jailbait, watching the stranger passing warily. Jared wonders what their stories might be, but he doesn't want to know because they're horrible for sure.

He stops dead. There he is.

Oh God, Misha was right. There he is, wearing jeans cut at the knees and a too tight t-shirt. He's looking sexy as hell.

Jared doesn't know what to do. Just standing there for the next million years seems like a good choice.

“You high or what?”

Turning his head, Jared sees a black SUV at the roadside, the driver obviously talking to him through the open window.

“You wanna make some money or not?”

“I- uhm...” He doesn't know what to say. What's happening here?

“No. Fuck off, you ugly bastard!” Jensen's voice is hard, and he is clearly enraged, though putting his arm protectively around Jared's shoulder.

The driver watches for a moment, then, uttering insults, moves his car two hundred feet to the next streetlight and another young boy.

“What are you doing here?” Jensen's rage is boiling under the surface.

“What are you doing here?” Jared's own rage is barely restrained. “You selling your ass?”

“I-” For a heartbeat, Jensen's eyes are flaring, then he's deflating. “I'm sorry. I should have told you. Explained it. But- it was this I was afraid of. I'm sorry.”

Jensen looks so unhappy, so crushed, that Jared's anger dwindles like a snowflake in the sunshine.

“Alright.” Taking a deep breath, he continues, “I need some time to think. We talk tomorrow.”

Saying this, he turns, walking back to his bike, riding home to his apartment with his lonely, uncomfortable bed in it, and a night without sleep.

It's a good idea to meet in the park. The day is nice, almost warm, even though under the trees, it's still a bit chilly. The surroundings are neutral enough that Jared can calm down a little. With only a few people in the distance, he is feeling untroubled.

Jensen is sitting right beside him, toying with a blade of grass, equally nervous, it seems.

Jared clears his throat.

“Well,” he says, but Jensen starts talking.

“I really wanted to tell you, but it's a difficult subject. Being a prostitute, I mean. I didn't have much of a choice when I started turning tricks. I mean, at the beginning, I did... all the stuff they wanted me to do. But I... then I confined myself to blow jobs and hand jobs. I haven't had sex since... years, I think. I'm clean so I...”

“Wait a sec.” Jared interrupts. “That's all we do, blow jobs and stuff. It's fantastic, believe me, it is, but you're treating me like one of your johns.”

Jensen looks up, scandalized. “I'd never do that. What we have... what we do is love. We make love, not have sex.”

Jared's melting, just a little bit.

Jensen continues, “In fact, I know a few hookers that have actual love lives, with girlfriends and boyfriends. They have a family because they're not as messed up as I am.”

Tentatively, Jared's reaching for Jensen's hand.

“You're not messed up, no more than other people. And if you want, you have a family now.”

He's smiling at Jensen, sees the hope in his eyes blossoming.

“You mean... you're not... will you...”

“I won't go, Jensen. And I don't want you to leave either. I want us.”

Jensen's beaming like a little sun.

“But-” Jared says.

“Anything.” Jensen eagerly confirms.

“I want you to stop hustling. I can't share you with other guys.”

That's the thought that mostly kept him awake in the night, Jensen together with other men, spreading his thighs, giving what should only be Jared's. It took him some time to come to terms with Jensen's hustling, but he just can't bear the thought of having to share him.

Jensen's mouth on his pulls him from his thoughts. The kiss is ravenous, possessive.

“I'll quit. I'll do anything for you to stay. But-” Jensen's voice is wavering, his enthusiasm skimming down until there's only unease left. “I need to tell you some more, but not here. Can we go to your place or mine? Please?”

He is biting on his lower lip, rolling it between his teeth.

Jensen is gorgeous, blanketing Jared under the trees, shades dancing over his pale skin, the sun occasionally highlighting his freckles.

Jared is so in love with this man, it hurts. Whatever it is that Jensen wants to tell him, whatever problem it is, they need to work it out. He can't be without him, doesn't want to.

Cupping Jensen's face with his hands, he says, “Jensen, I lo-”

Jensen is jerking back.

Something punches into Jared's chest, hurting him, forcing the air out of his lungs.

There are red dots and splatters on Jensen's face. There is blood in Jared's mouth, tasting metallic and violent.

“Somebody call 911!” Jensen screams at the top of his voice, tearing at Jared's clothing.

“Jen... “ Jared says, closing his eyes. “I'm so tired.”

No way can he stay awake. He is tired and so, so cold, and he wants to rest in Jensen's arms.

“Baby, stay with me.” Jensen's fingers are pawing at Jared's face, and it's nice to feel them as the last thing before sleeping. “Stay with me. Please.”

Chapter 4
Tags: bigbang 2014, fic, fic:bread and blood, hooker!jensen, hurt!jared, jared, jensen
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