grianchloch | There's a First Time for Everything

Title: There's a First Time for Everything
Fandom: SPN RPS
Characters: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2738
Disclaimer: Sadly, they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them for a while.
Betas:

seleneheart
Notes: Written for the AU challenge set by

dev_earl for the prompt Stripper!Jared; shy, first-time-strip-club-visitor!Jensen left by

enablelove and originally posted here

Summary: Jensen's been in denial about who he really is for a long time, and when he finally admits it to himself, his best friend Chris knows exactly where to take him.

“Bad idea, bad idea.” Jensen chanted in his head.

Chris dragged the reluctant Jensen with him as he followed a waiter wearing a nametag that said “Hi, I’m Matt” to a reserved table right at the edge of the stage. He ordered a couple of extravagant cocktails and tucked a twenty into the waistband of the waiter’s red sequined shorts.

“And keep ‘em coming.” Chris winked and Matt grinned back, hips rolling provocatively as he walked off towards the bar.

Jensen rolled his eyes. “You’re not even gay!”

“No, but you are and you’re not exactly acting the part, so I guess one of us has to.” Chris smirked, his grin widening as the waiter returned with two large glasses decorated with little umbrellas and more fruit than Jensen knew Chris usually ate in a week.

“Thanks, darlin’” Matt shimmied away through the crowd with a satisfied look on his face and Jensen leaned across the table, trying to avoid getting his eyes poked out by their drinks.

“Satisfied? He thinks he’s scored.”

“He’s cute, I suppose. I’ll slip him your number.”

“He’s not my type.” Jensen hissed.

“Okay, so now we’re here, with all this available manflesh, exactly what is your type?”

Jensen glanced around, glad they’d had more than a few shots before they’d left the nice, sane bar they’d been at. He removed the fruit from his drink and stabbed the small umbrella into the sticky mess on the table like it was a flag and took a sip. His eyes widened at the jolt he got from the impressive alcohol content, and he drank it down in one.

“Well?” Chris was persistent, Jensen had to give him that. And understanding. He hadn’t been sure how Chris would take finding out that he was gay. He'd never given anyone any reason to think otherwise, not even his fiancee, but it was getting engaged that had made him realize he couldn't keep living a lie. Breaking it off with Angie hadn’t been easy, but Jensen had tried living the straight life for everyone else and he’d realized in time that he couldn’t have gone through with the marriage.

Angie had taken the news better than he’d thought she would, even though she’d been hurt. And apart from one good solid punch to his jaw, Chris had taken it well, and almost forgiven him for not telling him years ago.

“I, um …” Jensen’s eyes continued to roam the crowd. Blond or brunette, slender or muscled? It was like a starving man being faced with a banquet. He had no idea where to start or what he really wanted. “I don’t know.”

Chris sighed. “Okay, well it can’t be much different from women.”

“What?” Jensen eyed his friend.

“I like blondes, nice long hair, not too skinny. Hips are important.” He winked. “Your turn.”

“Well, er …” Jensen really thought about it. “Dark hair, but not cut too short.”

“Something to get hold of!” Chris wiggled his eyebrows and Jensen threw a piece of pineapple at him.

“And tall, yeah, no shorter than me.”

“No twinks?”

“How do you even know what a twink is?”

“I researched! My best friend has a strange new hobby and I wanted to know more about it.” Chris shrugged.

“Hobby?” Jensen cracked up, and felt himself relaxing just a little.

“So, tall.” Chris got them back on subject. “Muscles? Oh, don’t tell me you’re into bears?”

Jensen snorted. “No, not big and hairy, but muscles would be good, long and lean. And long legs …” Jensen trailed off, looking, Chris thought, into space.

He was about to nudge Jensen to continue, when the lights dimmed, and the next show was announced.

Jensen was still staring straight ahead, and when Chris followed his gaze, he saw a tall man standing off to the side of the stage. All Chris caught of the introduction being given to the dancers was “Spartans”, then there were six guys running on stage wearing short leather skirts, boots that laced up their legs and golden helmets on their heads. They formed two lines and looked down into the crowd menacingly as music pulsed and catcalls filled the air. Then the music stopped, and the crowd chanted and hollered as the tall guy Jensen was staring at strode down between the other dancers and faced the crowd, sword in hand, chest heaving as if he’d just run off a battlefield.

With the deep throb of bass, the music started again and the dancers sprang into action. They simulated a fight, which gave plenty of opportunity to show off their leanly muscled bodies, and Jensen’s eyes were drawn to the tallest dancer’s thighs. Strong and muscular and oh so lickable.

Then they simulated other things that Chris reckoned Spartans may or may not have engaged in, all with the tall man as the main focus, and he seemed to revel in the attention. His helmet which had stayed on through a mock battle, was removed by one of the other dancers and he threw his head back, thrusting his chest out as the crowd went wild. Then he was moving towards one chosen dancer, as the others lay at his feet, running their hands up his thighs.

Chris glanced over at Jensen, who was staring open mouthed at the scene. He said something that Chris didn’t hear, so he moved closer. “What?”

“Him. He’s my type.”

“Oh.” Was all Chris could manage as back on stage, the Warrior’s men were unfastening the leather skirt he wore, and unwrapped it from around his waist, leaving him standing in nothing but his lace up boots and a golden leather thong.

Jensen’s eyebrows shot up, and he finished the second drink Matt had brought him in one go, never taking his eyes from the stage.

The crowd went nuts as the tall dancer strutted his stuff on stage, pivoting and turning, bending over at one point giving a perfect view of his tight ass. Chris could have sworn he heard Jensen whimper.

The beat increased, and the dance became more frenzied, all seven men moving in perfect time, hands caressing and pulling away the last of their garments, until finally, the warrior stopped dead center of the stage, and two of his men whipped away the thong. Chris thought the place had exploded, the sound was deafening, but he still heard Jensen’s strangled “Fuck me!” at the sight.

“That’s what we’d all like, sweetie.” Matt the waiter said as he put a new round of drinks on the table.

On stage, the warrior gave the crowd one last arrogant stare, then strode off as bills were thrown onto it. His men collected them, with smiles and waves, and then the lights brightened a little, and Chris stared across at Jensen.

He caught Matt’s eye, and the waiter gladly returned, and listened to Chris’s proposal as Jensen drank the next drink down.

“He doesn’t usually, but I’ll see what I can do.” The waiter promised, beaming as Chris stuffed more bills into his pants.

“So you found your type?” Chris nudged his friend’s shoulder.

“Him. He’s my type.” Jensen repeated, still not quite capable of stringing sentences together.

“Glad to hear it. Come on.” Chris pulled Jensen to his feet and towards Matt who had caught his attention at the back of the room.

“If you just sit yourself down in the alcove,” Matt instructed, smiling at Jensen, “he’ll be with you shortly.”

“He?” Jensen enquired, and then looked at Chris. “Oh no, you didn’t buy me a lap dance! Chris, what the fuck?” Jensen tried to walk away, but Chris held him fast.

“Sit down and enjoy yourself. Trust me, you’ll enjoy it, Jensen.”

“Jensen?” Jensen and Chris both turned to face the Warrior, still in his boots, his skin glistening from the exertion of the dance, but now wearing a soft pouch, for which Chris, at least, was grateful. He’d do a lot of things for his friend, but coming that close to another dude’s naked junk would have been above and beyond the call.

“Y …yes?” Jensen stuttered out.

“You wanted me to dance for you?” His voice was low and rich and there was still that arrogance in his gaze that had the hair standing up on the back of Jensen’s neck.

“I did?”

“He does.” Chris confirmed for him.

“Sit down.” It was almost a command, and Jensen backed away from him until he felt the edge of the seat on the back of his legs, and he sat down with a thump.

Without turning around, the Warrior drew the curtain closed behind him. Matt took Chris’s elbow and steered him back to their table, shooing away a couple who’d sat down in their absence.

“He’s in good hands.” Matt patted Chris’s leg and went to get him another drink.

Back in the alcove, Jensen was trying not to hyperventilate, with the personification of every gay fantasy he’d ever had standing in front of him in nothing but boots and a thong.

“You want me?” the Warrior asked, looking down at Jensen through heavy lidded, kohl rimmed eyes. “Only one rule. You can’t touch me.” He drew a hand over his chest and teased one of his own nipples, making himself groan.

“Well, I er …” Jensen stuttered out, his eyes widening as the Warrior fell to his knees and pulled Jensen’s apart.

Jensen could feel the heat of that sinful body through the fabric of his pants and bit back a moan. The almost naked man moved closer, so close that Jensen could feel the warm breath on his cheek and the dark hair whisper over his neck.

“I saw you as I was dancing. You couldn’t take your eyes off me.” The Warrior inhaled and Jensen trembled he was so turned on. Turned on and scared shitless. “What were you thinking about? Tell me.” He coaxed, and writhed a little, brushing up against Jensen in all sorts of interesting places. “Did you wonder what it would be like to fuck me?”

Jensen moaned and dropped his head back against the back of the seat. The Warrior lowered his head and ghosted his lips over Jensen’s Adam’s apple.

“Did you wonder what I’d taste like?” the Warrior got to his feet in one graceful movement, which left the pouch he was wearing right in front of Jensen’s face. He cupped himself and moaned, then slowly turned around with sinuous movements of his hips until his almost naked ass was right there, and Jensen wanted to touch it, to cup and stroke and part the taut cheeks to bury his face between them. Instead, he groaned and couldn’t help palming himself through his pants.

“You want to hold me down while you fuck my tight ass?” The Warrior rotated his hips, and Jensen swallowed, trying to control himself. The dancer turned round to face him again, stretching his arms above his head and displaying his torso. “Or do you want me to ride you? Push your cock in so deep and fuck myself on it while you bring me off?” Now he thrust his hips forward as he ran his hands down his body.

“Oh God, yes …” Jensen hissed, lust taking over from embarrassment. He was rubbing himself through the fabric, pushing up against his own hand.

“Undo your pants. I want to see you.” The Warrior commanded, and Jensen obeyed pulling down his zipper and sighing as he took out his rigid dick. The dancer dropped to his knees again and bent over Jensen, so close Jensen could almost taste the sweat on his skin. Any touches were feather light and he whispered in Jensen’s ear. “I wanna wrap my lips around your cock, lick it, suck it, take it all the way down my throat until I gag on it …”

Jensen worked himself faster, panting, wanting to hear more, wanting to touch the man who was driving him insane, wanting to fuck his throat, just like he was describing. The Warrior moved back just enough to look into Jensen’s eyes as he continued to tease him.

“Want you to come in my mouth, swallow you down, suck every last drop, Jensen …”

His name coming from those sinful lips was Jensen’s undoing, and he came, with a cry, unable to stop himself from crashing his mouth against the one that was promising to fulfill every one of his wet dreams, thrusting his tongue deep. He pumped his release over his hand, his shirt, and the Warrior’s abs as the Warrior kissed him back. Spurts hit the golden skin, and the dancer sat back, and looked down, surprise replacing the arrogance that had been there a second earlier.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry, man, I didn’t mean to …” Jensen was mortified that he’d done that all over a guy who’s name he didn’t even know.

“It’s okay, don’t sweat it.”

“No, I mean, sorry, really, it’s …” Jensen wanted to disappear, but the guy was still there, between his legs, smiling down at him with amusement.

“Hey, it’s okay, really.” He reached for a handful of Kleenex from the table. “These come in handy, for next time.”

“Next time? I don’t … I’ve never … with anyone.” Jensen couldn’t really get past the fact there might be a next time, but then he realized what the guy meant. Not a next time with him, just a next time he did this with anyone. It wasn’t like this had been personal, he’d been paid to spend time with Jensen.

“Never what?”

“Never anything.”

“You’ve never been with a guy? Oh!” Now it was the Warrior’s eyes that widened, only he wasn’t the Warrior anymore, he was a guy with soft hazel green eyes and a face Jensen would never get tired of looking at. “Ever?”

“Nope.” Jensen shook his head, blushing furiously. “Long story.”

Someone cleared their throat loudly, on the other side of the curtain.

“Dude, it’s almost time.”

“Okay, I’ll be there.” The Warrior stood up and looked down at Jensen. “Sorry, man, I’ve gotta go.”

Jensen nodded and padded at the stain on his shirt with a new handful of Kleenex.

“Why don’t you take that off?”

“Huh?” Jensen’s head snapped up and their eyes met again. The taller man grinned.

“If you take it off, no-one will see the stain.”

“Oh yeah.” Jensen unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders which left him in a tight white t shirt.

“Nice.” Some of the heat returned to the dancer’s eyes as he looked at Jensen, and Jensen realized that he hadn’t gotten off. But then he’d only been doing his job.

Jensen stood up as the voice from beyond the curtain yelled. “Jay! C’mon man, gotta get into costume!”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” He reached for the curtain, but turned back and before Jensen knew what was happening, he was wrapped up in Jay’s arms as the taller man kissed him, tongue questing, lips moving over Jensen’s setting them on fire. His teeth scraped Jensen’s bottom lip as the dancer pulled away and Jensen gasped, wanting to pull him back and keep him for the rest of the night.

But Jay pulled away, pausing as he slipped through the curtain to look back at Jensen.

“Just so you know? I’ve never done this before tonight. Never given anyone a private dance. Never wanted to.” He smiled almost shyly, and was gone.

Jensen wandered out into the club, to find Chris waiting for him.

“Well?” His friend eyed his shirtless appearance.

“Well what?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Was it …? Did you …?”

“Yes, yes, and yes to whatever else you were gonna ask.”

Chris took in Jensen’s glazed eyes and shell shocked expression, and put his arm around his shoulders.

“C’mon, lover boy, lets get you home.”

“’kay”

Chris left Matt a hefty tip, and drove Jensen home.

When Jay came back on stage ten minutes later dressed in a white uniform with matching attitude, he had to curb a flash of disappointment when he didn’t see Jensen sitting in the crowd. After all, he had a job to do, and couldn’t let attraction to a customer get in the way of what helped pay the bills.

He let the music take him, and began to peel off his jacket …