Chapter Text
Oh god oh god.
His husband had really done it. He had…
Jared couldn't even think about it.
So instead he let his mind go numb, mentally restraining himself from fidgeting with the tight clothing he wore. If he could just put his mind in a box, perhaps the shake would leave his limbs and the urge to flee would be forgotten. Hell, maybe the whole night would be forgotten.
But Jared knew he could never be so lucky. Because if he had the ability to leave, the ability to take himself out of a situation and not remember it the following day, he would have a lot less memories then he had today.
But sometimes he could push it aside, if not forget it. Sometimes he could dull the thudding music to a background noise he didn't have to face so long as he didn't acknowledge that it was there.
Yes. That was what he would do tonight.
Maybe the man behind the ornate door would offer him a whiskey. Yes. Maybe he would pity him, though undoubtedly not enough to repress his lust and hunger. But perhaps enough to give him something to take the edge off.
Maybe this man would be fond of lube.
But Jared knew not to hope. Besides, he wasn't supposed to drink. Jeff didn't like him to drink, said it would make him fat and unattractive. It was the same reason he was not to eat anything with sugar.
God Jared used to long for something sweet. It had been his saving grace as a child. Small bites of sweet chocolate slipped to him by Chad before school. Little sips of sweet drinks offered by the same unruly child during lunch breaks. His father hadn't liked him to have sweets either really, though he didn't outright forbid it, or else Jared would never have accepted the sweet offerings from his one and only friend.
He wondered sometimes, when the music started to get louder and he needed to distract himself, what Chad was doing these days. That is, if the man hadn't died of a heart attack from his greasy diet or perhaps fallen and not got up after yet another fight picked in some bar or alley. Chad was good people. Chad deserved better. So Jared allowed himself to believe he got better. He allowed himself to believe Chad finally managed to get that girl in senior math to go to the movies with him. He imagined that the girl -- Sophia, he vaguely remembered -- maybe even fell for the rugged charm that Chad oozed from every pore. Maybe they had a nice house and a couple kids by now. Maybe Chad actually managed to make his dream of being a police officer come true. Jared hoped so. The world deserved a good man like that in law enforcement.
But right now no police nor fantasy was gonna save him from the ornate door in front of him.
A game. This was all because of some stupid game. Sometimes Jared wished he could truly feel bitter, but deep down he knew this was better than he deserved. Being found dead in the gutter was his future as a child. He should be honoured to be someone today.
He wasn't really, but he was almost treated like one here, even though he didn't deserve it. He deserved to live on the streets, being fucked against a dumpster by any John with five bucks in his pocket. That was all he was good for anyhow.
This was much better, he told himself.
The fact that Jeff even saw anything in him was a miracle by all standards. The fact that one day, after a chance encounter, Jared even caught Jeff's eye was something of a blessing.
The thing is, Jared was dirt from the beginning. His father tried his damndest, but even he, with his patience and determination, couldn't manage to beat something decent out of Jared's worthless soul. The son of a prostitute mother who couldn't even bear the sight of her own son. A mother who would rather take her own life than deal with the curse that came from her own womb. Some son he was. Born weak and growing up no better. A worthless, pathetic boy with no potential to do more than bus tables and take cock.
But by the grace of a God Jared had yet to believe in, one day Jeff came into the small diner he worked each night away at to please his father enough to allow him to stay in high school until graduation. The lanky, tall boy with unruly hair well due for a wash and bruises and cigarette burns covering any exposed flesh was nothing to the untrained eye. But Jeff… well Jeff was trained in just about everything, and he knew potential when he saw it. He was the master of seeing junk and turning into something functional.
So a few weeks later Jeff had struck a deal with Jared's father, one that only became official the day after Jared's eighteenth birthday, when his shaky voice said "I do."
It wasn't like Jared had anyone to protest on his behalf. Hell, half the highschool staff and kids alike didn't even know his name. He was a shadow, one that could easily disappear after a hard earned graduation to never be heard from again. A bum kid who probably ended up killing himself with drugs, joining a gang, or both. It wasn't uncommon in the area.
And it didn't make a difference to Jared. His life had changed back on the fateful day he met Jeff at fifteen. The wedding was just a precaution, a piece of paper saying that Jared had entered into this both willingly and as an adult. Both were lies, but even Jared couldn't be sure of that anymore.
But at least Jeff had money. Jared had never known luxury before meeting the man. And the sight of his mansion at fifteen had made his jaw drop. The front parlour made him feel small and dirty, unworthy of entering any further. Jeff agreed, but also insisted it was something they'd work on.
And they did.
By the time he was eighteen, he had shown enough potential to manage to convince Jeff to keep working on him. It was a relief larger than anything Jared could remember before that moment. So papers were signed and Jared became Jeff's to do with as he pleased.
In return, Jeff both compensates Jared's father, and provides for Jared. He is clothed, fed, kept healthy, reminded of his rules and held accountable for his actions, and even sometimes rewarded with little luxuries like books to read when Jeff is away on trips he cannot bring Jared along on.
So really this wasn't asking too much. All he had to do was please this man and then he could go home to Jeff again. It wasn't like it was anything he hasn't done before.
It just felt different.
In all the years Jared had been Jeff's, the man had never shared him before. Sure, he had allowed observers on occasion, sometimes put on little shows to demonstrate his pet’s obedience at parties, and even laughed and jeered along with his dinner guests when foreign hands would grope him and bodies rut against him, but never had he allowed anyone else to fuck him. He was Jeff's, after all.
But tonight something had changed. And Jared wished he knew what he had done wrong to disappoint Jeff. He swore he didn't mean to and he just hoped he never did anything that warranted this punishment again.
But who was he to be so ungrateful? He was Jeff's, and Jeff could with good reason do what he saw fit with Jared. Who was he to question his husband? God he really was a whiny brat.
So why was he still standing in front of the damn door?
He tried to lift his hand to knock but he found he had no control over the trembling limbs.
What if this man wanted something that Jared hadn't done before? What if he disappointed him and angered Jeff? Oh god… Oh God what if Jeff threw him out like the trash he was after this?
The door warped before his eyes, and the ground seemed to loom over him suddenly. He was going to hyperventilate.
Breathe, damn it! Can you do nothing?
Forcing himself to draw air into his lungs, Jared raised his hand.
He wondered, distantly, what Mr. Ackles looked like. He had heard the name so much lately, but he had yet to see the man’s face.
Soon he knew he would be lucky if he could ever forget him.
But really he wondered what the man could have offered up to get Jeff to finally offer to share Jared’s holes? It must be something rare, something valuable and likely priceless. Jared worried that Jeff would be angry that he didn't win the item. He hoped it wasn't his fault. He wasn't sure what state he would be in after Mr. Ackles was done with him and he didn't know if he could take a punishment without passing out. And passing out without permission was very bad.
He hoped that Jeff hadn't been expecting him at the poker game tonight. Maybe that was why Jeff had lost after all… Maybe Jared had been supposed to be there. He hoped not. Jeff had told him to prepare the guest rooms for the night and Jared hadn't finished by the time the games began. He hadn't arrived until just before the end of the last game, which he determined that the red faced Jeff hadn't won. That was when he caught a brief glance at the back of Mr. Ackles intimidating form, as the man pulled the pool in the centre of the table towards himself before leaving, speaking with an audible smirk as he told Jeff he expected payment tonight and left the room, presumably to enter the guest rooms and settle in for the night.
Mr. Ackles was tall, that much he caught. And the man was built. Jared hoped he did not favour the whip.
The door opened before Jared's raised hand could lower to his side and the most intense green eyes drank him in.
He wondered, distantly, how he looked. He hoped his earlier fidgeting hadn't disrupted his clothing in an unappealing way. The pants were tight, black, and likely made of some form of faux leather. Almost like leggings, but much less flexible. It was from the chest of clothes Jeff had him wear when he wanted him to dance for him and whoever else he chose to see. The shirt, though also black, contrasted the pants greatly with loose, flowing fabric much too thin and translucent to be considered decent. It left little to the imagination.
The eyes that searched him over were hungry, but there was something else there, something Jared didn't recognize and it scared him.
Mr. Ackles was surprisingly handsome. Which meant nothing good really. Someone who could have anyone willingly usually meant pain and a lot of it. But Jared couldn't concentrate on that now. Rather, he let his hair fall in front of his down-turned head, effectively shielding his eyes as they continued to look at the man who owned him for the night. Sharp jawbone; high cheekbones; pouty lips; slight stubble; short, spiky hair… he was beautiful. And with beauty came pain.
Jared knew that better than anyone else.
"Come in," the man's rough voice drawled and he smirked slowly as he, almost gently, grasped Jared's hands and pulled him into the room before shutting the door firmly behind him, effectively beginning the night.