FIC: Damned If I'm to Wake

[nilchance]

Title: Damned If I'm to Wake
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: CMM/OMC, JA/JP
Disclaimer: Never happened. Nothing is assumed.
A/N: Sunk. This takes place in beanside's CMM/JDM universe, and fits in between Eight Easy Steps and Kept Me Small. Previous parts can be found here.



Fingernails dug into the back of Chad's neck, gripping, steering, ruthless. He closed his eyes and red stars beat behind them, in time with the hard drive between his lips and against the back of his throat. The cheap metal of the bathroom stall hummed beneath his hands, the bass of the music turned up so high Chad felt his bones vibrate. The music wasn't loud enough to drown out the appreciative groaning above him.

Chad grabbed at the guy's thighs, pressing his fingers deep against the muscle. Couldn't tell him to shut up with his mouth full, but damn, he wanted to. He wanted to beat the jackoff's fucking face in, his stupid perfect teeth and his 'hey baby' pickup lines and his smooth pretty hands.

The guy glanced down, mouth twisting, and grabbed Chad by the hair. "Don't look at me," he growled. "Keep going."

Impossibly, the guy shoved deeper into Chad's throat. He swallowed hard, trying not to bite or gag. It was messy and wet, but it wasn't about technique. It wasn't about anything but skin and contact and five minutes in a bathroom. It wasn't about-

"That's good, boy." Jeff's hand cupped the back of his neck, cradling, taking slow and relentless. His nails scraped lightly, deeper when Chad shuddered. "You're going to stay right there. Let me use that pretty damn mouth of yours as long as I want- shh, no, you don't get to choose. You're mine. This," Jeff's hips rocked forward, and Chad felt it roll straight through him, "is mine."

- the spill of wetness in the back of his throat or the long, low noise the guy made.

Chad jerked back, coughing and spitting what he could into his hand. He'd swallowed some of it, and the thought made his stomach roll. "Son of a bitch," he rasped, looking up, "what the fuck ever happened to warning a guy, you stupid douche? Didn't teach that at fucking community college?"

Two things happened at once.

The bathroom door opened, with Chad on his knees holding a mouthful of fratboy and the guy's pants still open. Over the dizzying spill of music, Chad heard a startled bark of sound that sounded remarkably like Jared's fucking boyfriend, damn it.

The fratboy hauled off and backhanded Chad in the face, like the idiot thought he was watching a rerun of Cops. He hit like a pussy, but Chad hadn't been braced for it and was too drunk not to take it full-on. There was a hot, stinging line along Chad's cheekbone.

The bathroom door slammed shut. A minute later, the fratboy bounced off the door and rebounded once, pinned by Jensen's body. Jensen growled something too low for Chad to hear, even if he wasn't drunk and bitchslapped stupid on the floor. The fratboy leaned his head back to get away from Jensen's teeth, his eyes very wide.

"Got it?" Jensen asked, almost politely. When the fratboy didn't answer, Jensen leaned his elbow into the guy's stomach and raised his voice to be heard over the retching. "Answer me."

Fratboy wheezed a yes. Chad leaned his back against the wall, under the paper towel dispenser, and touched his cheek. His fingers came away red. Fuck, he'd had a class ring on. Ron was going to kill him.

With that disgusting golden-boy grace, Jensen pulled the fratboy off the door, spun him, shoved him out into the hall and slammed the door shut again. Then he turned, looking down at Chad. Chad didn't know what to call the look on Jensen's face, but he glanced away from it anyway.

There came the sound of the tap running. A minute later, Jensen was kneeling in front of him, pressing a wet paper towel to Chad's face.

Chad hissed through his teeth, wrenching away from the touch. His voice was worn and thin. "Get off me."

"Shut up," Jensen said sharply. Gripping Chad by the chin, he wiped hard at the cut. "You want to commit career suicide? Fine. Do it on your own time, not mine."

"I'm not trying to-"

"Then congratulations, you're a natural. Next time, lock the fucking door." Taking his hand back, Jensen dropped the soggy, bloody towel on his lap. "Clean yourself up."

Chad took the towel and worked clean his hands, his throat, his arms. He didn't feel any cleaner once he'd thrown the towel away. His throat hurt suddenly, like it hadn't while the guy was shoving against him.

Jensen watched, kneeling too close, his mouth a hard line. Chad shifted deliberately away from him, feeling cold and washed out.

"You walked into the door," Jensen said finally, his voice low as gravel. "That's what I'm telling Jared."

"He won't believe you."

"Then you get to explain what happened." Jensen got up, dusted himself off and held his hand out. "Up."

Chad stared at him, choking all over again. Fucking Jensen and his perfect calm, his perfect relationship, his perfect timing, his perfect goddamn life. Fuck him for being so good for Jared, and fuck him for treating Chad like he was some one-eyed mangy stray that trailed after Jared and so had to be tolerated.

Fuck him, and fuck Jeff. Fuck all of this.

"Hey," Jensen said, an acid bite of sound. "Get off your ass, you petulant little bastard, or you can fucking walk home."

"I can drive."

"Good luck with that. Jared has your keys." Impatient, Jensen let his hand drop. "You're better than this Behind the Music bullshit, Chad. Get the hell up or I'm dragging you out and strapping you to the hood."

Chad snorted, suddenly too tired for this. Any of this. "You could just leave me here, asshole."

Jensen looked at him for a long moment before the corner of his mouth tilted up. "Nah. Jared would kill me." Bending a little, Jensen wrapped long fingers around Chad's forearm. His touch was warm and dry, competant, no arguments. "Now come on. I'm taking you home. We'll pick up your car tomorrow. I'll play Yanni at top volume and you can puke out the window. It'll be great."

Chad growled quietly, and let Jensen help him up.

*******
It turned out that Jensen meant 'home' as in his and Jared's, not the cheap rental Chad was living in until his house was safe for the dogs. It irked that Jensen apparently thought Chad was going to toss a hairdryer in the sink without supervision. He wanted his silence, another few drinks until he could sleep, the fake company of the television running all night. He wanted a shower and his toothbrush and maybe to kick a hole in the wall.

Jared's house was off the beaten path, quiet and still, with a huge yard. Light reflected watery patterns off the backyard pool. As they pulled up beside the house, Chad could hear the excited barking start up. He rubbed tiredly at his face and stumbled out of the car. Jared came out of nowhere, wrapping his arm around Chad's shoulders, steadying and solid and overwhelming. It wasn't until he had Jared there, radiating heat and the Christmas-spice warmth of his cologne, that Chad realized he was freezing.

Jensen was a shadow against the door, fumbling his keys and muttering to himself. Jared's breath brushed Chad's ear, his voice a low rumble. "So, that door had a class ring, huh?"

Chad shrugged, staring at the lights in their house.

Jared rubbed his big hand over Chad's head and said, too gently, "Dude, you're smarter than that. What's going on with you?"

Chad shrugged again, and bent to scratch Sadie's ears. "Nothing, Jare. Hi, baby, look at that pretty girl. Yeah, you know it, don't you?"

"Tool," Jared said, butting his head fondly against Chad's. "Be that way. C'mon in."

Getting inside Jared's house was a complicated relay of stepping over dogs and trying not to knock shit off randomly placed endtables. If Chad doubted that Jen was trying to kill him, that would've cemented it. Jared finally just grabbed him by the shoulders and steered him into the living room, where the couch was littered with scripts and Playstation controllers and remotes. Jared pushed him down, moved the stuff and shoved Chad unceremoniously over onto his side. Then he knelt and started working on Chad's shoes.

Chad squinted at him. "C'n I have coffee?"

Jared tossed one shoe over his shoulder. "Nope."

"I need to sober up, dude-"

"You need to sleep it off, bitch." The other shoe went sailing, and Jared tugged the blanket off the back of the couch. He smoothed it down, dodged Chad's attempts to whack him upside the head, and skimmed his hand through Chad's too-long hair. "Next time you pull your Scarlett in a swoon act, I'm dropping you on your ass."

"I didn't swoon," Chad grumbled.

"Whatever." Jared pushed his hair back again. It was strangely soothing. "If you feel the vapors coming on-"

"Eat my dick, Jare."

"Thanks, but I'm not your type. I won't bust your lip or anything." Jared reached over the couch, caught something that crackled. It turned out to be frozen vegetables wrapped up in an old shirt. Jared handed the package over, and Chad leaned his cheek against the cold pressure of it.

"Thanks," Chad murmured, pitching his voice low.

Jared shrugged easily. His eyes were too keen in the half-light from the kitchen. "Hey. You know you deserve better, right?"

Chad snorted and punched Jared in the shoulder, hard enough that his knuckles ached. "Go play house with your boyfriend, Jare. I'm good. Tell Jensen thanks."

"Thanks, hell," Jensen said from behind the couch. "You're doing my dishes and washing the dogs for this happy horseshit, housebitch. Now go nap and stop slurring at Jare."

"Fuck you too, Jenny."

"Yeah, yeah."

Jared patted Chad one last time and climbed to his feet. The dogs jingled after him. A moment later, Chad heard the tap run and the clank of dishes in the sink. Jared murmured something. Jensen laughed warmly, an intimate sound.

If Chad's eyes stung, it was the ice and the cut. That was all.