For Your Entertainment - 2/3+1

[mangacat201]

Title: For your entertainment

Author: Mangacat(201)
Pairing/Characters: J2, minor Jensen/other
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 7001

Disclaimer: Lies, all lies, Jared and Jensen belong to themselves and I’d never make money with them.  

Warnings: BDSM, D/s, dub-con, lots of leather, toys, language, breathplay, orgasm denial, rimming

 

Summary: It’s just about the most notorious excuse that any hollywood actor who finds themselves in precarious position will use. But leather pants and leash notwithstanding, Jensen was still just doing research. That’s when things actually get complicated.

 

A/N: There you go, chapter two as promised. Interlude will be up on Tuesday next week.

First Night

Second night

 

Jensen has really no idea why he actually has to be there for most of these executive meetings. Because it’s mostly Misha talking the producers down from the latest extras they are trying to put into his contract that was supposed to be finalized already, and they barter around for a while, until the execs agree to the version that Misha had drawn up in the first place, because Misha’s batshit crazy, but he’s fierce where his job is concerned. And then everyone makes nice and pats themselves on the back for a job well done, while Jensen has nothing else to do but put his chicken-scratch on a piece of paper to dry. Honestly, he’d be glad if they could just email him the thing when they’re done. Still, Misha insists that he shows his face to the buyers at least once before he comes to set for the first time, so that he can be sure that there’s no foul play with his contracts and all that. He trusts Misha with everything he owns, and there’s not one studio executive that he trusts further than he can throw him, so it’s pretty much the same game everytime.

 

It’s also the reason why he finds himself sitting in a overly airconditioned conference room like ten thousands of others in the city, bored out of his skull and trying tune out the legalspeak that goes right over his head. To add insult to injury, he’s also grumpy as hell, because he hasn’t had a good wank for close to a week. But that’s a thought that he’s not touching with a ten-foot pole, and  it certainly isn't an excuse for backing out of a meeting. That’s why he’s deeply grateful when his cell vibrates in his pocket, indicating a new text. He knows that it’s impolite to check your phone so blatantly in company, but he’s a fucking A-lister, and all the other people in the room are too occupied with themselves anyway. So Jensen slides the phone out of his pocket and hopes to God that’s it’s Chris or someone with something interesting to say.

When he gets a good look at the screen, he fumbles to keep the phone from slipping through his fingers while he feels all colour drain from his face.

U r coming 2nite. – J

Misha instantly picks up on his distress and stops talking to stare at him, but Jensen waves at him to continue immediately. He gets up and turns to the window, from where he instantly sends off his furious reply.

Definitely not.

The answer is instant.

Oh yes, you are, bb.

Jensen sees red and abruptly turns his phone off – which he never does – so that he’s not tempted to dignify that with a response. How dare that bastard go for his number and then give him an outrageous order like that? Something chimes in the back of Jensen’s head, but before he can think about it, Misha taps his shoulder.

“What is it?”, he snaps irritably.

Misha looks taken aback, but he gets right to the point.

“We’re all set; you just have to sign now.”

Jensen thanks all that is holy for small favors and turns around to get right on it. Normally he would take his time to at least have a cursory look over a couple of pages before he signs, but right now he just needs to get out of there. He jots his signature haphazardly onto the dotted line and leaves Misha to explain his off-hand exit to the flabbergasted studio execs.

 

~*~

 

Jensen’s off his rocker. Batshit crazy. Totally out of his head. There’s no excuse, absolutely no excuse! why else he would be standing in the entrance of the club wearing the very same leather pants. He doesn’t even know how to find Jared in the throng of all those people, and somehow he doubts that the man will prowl the floor all night until he shows his face. Jensen decides to avoid the dance floor this time and veers off to the left, once he’s stepped into the room proper. He's aiming to find a quieter corner where he can plan his next move. He jumps right out of his skin when an arm shoots out of the wall to grasp his elbow, before a familiar voice reveals that his path incidentally brought him by Chad’s window counter.

“Hey, there you are. Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you like that. I just should tell you that he’s waiting for you in Five.”

The wall next to Jensen slides open to reveal the built-in doorway. He looks from the corridor back to Chad with what must be a terrible deer-in-the-headlights-expression. The ash blond man perches his chin on his fist and waves him through with a nonchalant gesture as if his world won’t be turned upside down if he goes through this door. Still, Jensen goes as if an invisible string is attached to his chest, and he counts the doors until he’s reached number five, settling uneasily in front of it. The light of the keypad still blinks red, but it’s only a couple of seconds before the lock turns with an audible click as the light switches to green, indubitably telling the person inside that someone is coming to this door.

 

Jensen pushes at the steel door tentatively, but it doesn’t take much force to open, and suddenly the room’s laid out in front of him, riddled with shadows that veil the things that are stored within those four walls. He can’t make out anyone in the room, but the moment he takes his first step over the threshold, a voice growls from the far wall.

“That’s it, baby. Now, don’t forget to close the door behind you and take off your shoes, before you come into the living room.”

Jensen thinks about bolting right there. Jared has made his point, but he doesn’t have to go through with it. He can say no to this now, walk out and never look back.

“Lose the socks too, and your shirt, while you’re at it.”

That’s when Jensen notices that he’s already toed off his shoes, just as the door falls closed with a resounding thump, shutting off the outside world for good.

 

These black-outs between Jared saying something, and Jensen coming to himself divested of half his clothes have to stop, they really do. Jensen wants to pretend that his body’s just moving on autopilot, that Jared has him mesmerized, under some kind of spell, spiked his drink with something to make him comply, but the denial falls flat even right there inside his head. A glaring spotlight comes on at the other end of the room and blinds him, before he has the chance to avert his eyes. He has had his share of experience with these kinds of stage lights and knows how to handle them, but if you're looking directly into it when it goes on, there’s going to be spots flicking over your vision for the next couple of minutes, no matter what. Jensen tries to shake off the disorientation as fast as he can, and even though he knows it’s exactly what Jared intended, he loses his footing completely, when a hand closes around his arm out of the blue. Jared drags him, stumbling awkwardly, to the middle of the room, where he rounds on Jensen with bared teeth.

“So, you think you can deny me?”

Jensen doesn’t really know what Jared’s on about, but he feels his knees buckle with the sudden urge to placate the man. It’s maddening as hell! Since when has boot-licking been programmed into his brain? Pain flares up through body when his knees crash to the hard floor, and he suddenly looks up miles of defined muscle and glistening skin. Jared is wearing leather pants himself and nothing else.

 

Jensen feels his mouth fall open, and his heart rate speed up, because, suddenly, he wants nothing more than to lick that glorious expanse of skin. Jared cocks his head slightly, like his reaction to the harsh welcome is entirely unexpected, but his expession is veiled, and Jensen can’t tell what the searching eyes read from his face. It’s ridiculous how attuned he is to the other man’s body language, as if the mere shifting of weight is an encrypted order in and of itself. The really heady thing though is how Jared reacts to him. And suddenly, his position feels less submissive, and more powerful, like he can get anything he wants if he just… yields.

“You are fascinating, you know that? All contradictions, one second you’re all fight and denial, and the next you act like you know the game inside out. I should be thinking up ways to punish you for your insolent text, and instead all I can do is imagine all the ways I want to use your mouth right now.”

Jared’s huge hand clasps around Jensen’s jaw and drags it open a little wider.

 

“I really should, you know, stuff you so full with it that you can’t breathe, until spit and come and tears run all over your face. Fucking made for it, baby; you’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d choke on it and love it all the same.”

Jensen feels his eyes widen, and a nervous flutter settles in his belly that is both anxiety and anticipation. Jared’s words paint a lucid picture in his head, and right there he remembers that he's never thought of treating another man’s cock that way. The flutter turns into a ball of cold dread. He jerks his face out of Jared’s grip with an ungraceful motion, and the momentum makes him topple over into a heap at Jared’s feet. He tries to scramble backwards, with dragging elbows and scuffing feet, further away from Jared, who just follows him with glinting eyes. Pure fear runs through Jensen’s mind, and he flails around until he’s on hands and knees, trying to put distance between him and the other man as fast as he can. His panicky brain doesn’t register the footsteps, but Jared must have followed him, because a strong hand suddenly seizes his ankle and tugs to make him fall over. Jensen is dragged all the way back, the rough concrete floor abrading the sensitive skin on his torso, while his fingers futilely scramble for purchase on the even surface.

 

“Oh, baby, don’t be like that. We just got started; you don’t want to leave the party early, do you?”

When Jared stops and lets go of his foot, Jensen tries to turn around and take a swing at the other man, but his fist is caught once again, and suddenly he finds both arms wrenched behind his back, wrists crossed and held down by Jared’s powerful one-handed grip and about half of his weight. Jensen thrashes around, but the height and muscle that Jared has on him make it impossible to break free from this position if the other man has no intention of letting him up. On the contrary, Jared’s settling down between his legs, spreading Jensen’s thighs wider with his knees. His chuckle sounds predatory and triumphant in Jensen’s ears, and, just like that, Jared’s wrested every sliver of control back from him, laying him out prone and vulnerable.

“I told you, this is about driving you to the edge. Making you do things you never even thought about in the first place.”

Jared’s hand gently strokes lines over his back where the whip marks have been faded into nothing for a few days now. Still, he seems perfectly capable of tracing them as if he has Jensen’s entire back mapped out in his imagination. Jensen lets him and tries to get his labored breathing under control, because he’s close to hyperventilating, and he's in danger of losing consciousness if he doesn’t calm the fuck down. And who knows what Jared will come up with if he does that?

 

As he breathes more slowly through the receding panic, under the gentle, teasing touch, the sensation tickles something in the back of his head. It’s like ghost fingers trailing over his back and arms, rubbing soothing circles onto the skin, until his breath comes easier, and Jensen shakes his head slightly to get rid of the cobwebs. He’s sure that Jared’s never touched him that way. He shouldn’t trust the man to lay even one finger on him, but yet here he is, settling underneath the oppression as if it’s what keeps him sane all day long. His train of thought, however, is cut short, when Jared’s hand grips the back of his neck, dragging him up and pulling his back into a painful arch, while the man leans down to whisper into his ear.

“So there, are you quite done now?”

Jensen’s breath hitches, when the strong fingers press in harder, but he manages a short nod.

“Good, because while watching you battling it out in your own head is hilarious, it gets us nowhere. I’ve proven with my actions that I can take care of you, haven’t I? Just stop thinking so much and let me worry about the rest.”

Jensen frowns a little, because he wouldn’t exactly call what Jared has done to him so far ‘taking care’, but he doesn’t get to finish the thought, before he’s wrenched upwards by his arms with a force that’s just shy of dislocating his shoulders. He lets out a low moan at the rough treatment, but follows more actively, when Jared makes him get to his feet. Feeling the hot breath on his neck, which indicates that Jared’s still standing very much in his personal space, Jensen anticipates the next move.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to walk you over to the wall, where we have a little something waiting for us, and you’re going to let me tie you up nice and tight. Understood?”

 

He doesn’t wait for Jensen’s response, but starts walking immediately, pushing Jensen into a stumble to keep him off balance. When they stop a few strides later, Jensen finds himself facing the wall, and a strange construction – two wooden planks that have been crossed to form an ‘X’ with several bindings attached at different levels. He instinctively tightens his balled fists at the sight, but doesn’t move a muscle otherwise, when Jared takes one of his arms to tie it securely to the wood. Jensen knows that if he fights now, Jared will just throw him forward bodily and cage him with his weight, until he’s had his will, and the repercussions for such a defiance would be dire. For just a moment Jensen contemplates trying to make a break for it anyway. When his other wrist is secured with the smooth leather bonds, Jensen has to close his eyes at the flashes that start up in the back of his mind at the familiar position. His breath speeds up against his will again, but this time it’s not panic that riddles this thoughts, but quite the opposite. There’s very little difference between those sensations though, and it makes Jensen’s head spin to think about it.

 

When Jared is satisfied that the bindings are tight but not cutting off his circulation, he smooths his hands down Jensen’s arms, over his back, around on his belly and to the waistband of Jensen’s pants, leaving shivers in his wake. Jensen feels long fingers deftly opening the fly of his pants, but Jared doesn’t dip in right away this time like he did on their first night. Instead he draws back completely, and Jensen hears him step away a few paces, presumably to admire his handiwork. He keeps his eyes fixed on the wall, unwilling to let himself be goaded into looking around to make sure Jared hasn’t left him hanging there. Instead, he decides to issue a challenge by laciviously sliding his feet apart a little more. The hitching breath that reaches his ears, tells Jensen that the scales have just dipped in his favor. Suddenly, he realizes that he needs to shut off his brain and trust his instincts more. All doubts and reservations aside, he remembers the blinding orgasm from their first encounter with perfect clarity. Ultimately, Jensen’s back here, because anything less doesn't cut it any more, and the craving to feel like that again grows with every second that goes by. Out of the blue, hands snake around his side, viciously clawing into his chest right and left, blunt thumbnails dragging harshly over his nipples.

“What did I say about getting lost in your own head? I require a bit of your attention if this is going to work, you know? Can’t have you running off inside your thoughts like that.”

While Jensen still gasps from pain - pleasure - Jared moves to forcefully wrench his pants down to mid-thigh in one fluid move. Then his hands wander shamelessly over Jensen’s exposed backside, kneading the tense muscles, while Jensen is suddenly very aware of the sweat that pools at the dip of his spine.

 

“You have a spectacular ass… which I didn’t devote nearly enough time to the other night. That will have to change now.”

Jensen wants to snark back that of course he has a spectacular ass, he works hard enough for it, thank you very much. But before he has the chance to blunder his way past Jared's rules like that, Jared parts his cheeks and licks a wet stripe from behind his balls right up over his hole. The sensation sets nerve endings on fire in places Jensen didn’t even know he had, and his fingers skitter uncontrollably over the slippery wood, seeking for purchase, something - anything -  to hold onto. The feeling is dirty and revolting.  Jared eats him out like he would a girl’s pussy, teeth and tongue scraping over furled skin. When Jensen actually feels Jared’s tongue breach him, it’s too much, and he arches away with all that’s in him, canting his hips to wriggle to the side, tugging at the bonds around his wrists with all his might. Jared, however, completely ignores his efforts, holding his hips in a vice-like grip, nails digging into his sensitive skin to leave crescent marks. The little spikes of pain are enough to drive Jensen wild, with all the nerves firing, and yet no outlet for the energy. He starts thrashing for real. Guttural groans from deep inside turn his voice hoarse and husky. Finally, Jared lets up and moves away, though his grip never wavers on Jensen’s hips.

“Don’t worry, baby, you’re not going anywhere. I’ve got you right where I want you. God, you have no idea what a pretty picture you make, trussed up like that, taking it against your will. By the time we’re through, I’m gonna have turned you inside out, I promise.”

 

A shiver runs down Jensen’s spine at the words, because that’s what he does, right? He takes it like a good little bitch. He should fight; he should turn the tables;, he should be able to tell Jared where to shove it good and proper, and instead he’s right here, displaying his naked ass like it’s an offering to the gods. He’s a man for fuck’s sake! He should act like one and not like a bitch in heat. Blinding fury rips through Jensen - at himself for not manning up already - at Jared for making him incapable of it, with his voice, and his eyes, and his muscles and his hands, God, his hands…

“Oh, did I hit a nerve there? I’m sorry, baby. Don’t be cross. If you’re all tense like that, the next part is going to hurt a lot more than in has to, really.”

This time Jensen actually turns around to glare at Jared with all he has and recoils instantly when he finds the other man’s face a lot closer than he was expecting. He hadn’t even noticed that Jared had risen, and now the other man is right in his face, with that intense stare that seems to pierce right through Jensen and into the deepest recesses of his mind. Unfortunately, the distraction is enough that Jensen doesn’t realize what Jared’s doing with his fingers, until he’s knuckle deep inside Jensen already. The sursprise catches Jensen unawares, which makes the first inch easy, but the coldness of the lube, and the shock of the intrusion hits him a second later, and his muscles seize up right as Jared pushes in further.

 

A keening wail makes it past his gnashed teeth, for it hurts even with the slick to ease the way, and it’s also the strangest feeling all over. Jared moves more delicately now, but Jensen can’t seem to bring himself to relax into the slick slide in and out. Chuckling a little, Jared finally bends down to catch Jensen’s lips in a teasing kiss, drawing it out from chaste to open-mouthed in lazy, generous movements that distract him somewhat from what’s going on below the belt. That is until Jared’s tongue swipes into his mouth with small stabbing motions, and Jensen wonders for a moment at the peculiar taste, until he realizes exactly where this tongue’s just been. His eyes fly open, and he bites down on instinct, not quite hard enough to draw blood, but enough that Jared wrenches his lips away suddenly and rounds on him with bared teeth and stormy eyes. The look makes all blood drain out of Jensen’s face, before Jared lets out a low hiss.

“What the hell was that? Do you really want to try my patience that way? We have an agreement, don’t we? I give it to you and you take it.!”

Without warning he draws back and thrusts a second finger in right alongside the first.

 

It burns.

The ache radiates out to his belly, and all the way up his spine, it has Jensen literally on his toes to get away from the burning pain. His breathing’s labored from the effort to keep from screaming, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, which he blinks away furiously, but he can’t quite stifle the sob that escapes between his lips. He’s never felt more humiliated in his entire life, because he just can’t seem to be able to get his reactions under control. Strangely enough, the pain becomes bearable after a few moments, even though it was vicious at first, but the display he's putting on is just pathetic for the guy who’s supposed to have the straightest face in fucking Hollywood. His preoccupied thoughts are the reason he doesn’t notice at first how Jared is… babbling, like he's never had even a hint of steely authority in his voice, and the realization throws Jensen off more than he thought possible.

“Jesus, Jensen. I’m sorry, baby, this isn’t…. I’m not supposed to forget myself like that, that’s such a rookie mistake…”

Jared presses his forhead against Jensen’s shoulder to hide his face, mumbling ‘sorrys’ into his skin, slinging his left arm around his chest to pull him close. Jensen’s left reeling, with no idea what to do next. It’s true, it hurt like hell – he might have never done this before, and he knows that this could have gone a lot more smoothly for a first time. But Jared pulling the rug from underneath his feet like that is not something he’s ready to process. He trusted Jared to do what he wants, trusted Jared to hurt him, trusted Jared to be the strong one. Instead they are here, suspended in a moment in time, and Jensen has absolutely no clue how to go on.

Part 2B

Comments

[insane-songbird.livejournal.com]

Weeee! *twirls* hot boys with whips and leather. *mad cackle*