Work Text:
Name: Jared
Age: 29
Orientation: Gay
Gender: Cis Male
Acts open to trying tonight: Oral, anal, moderate impact play, moderate bondage, breath play
Hard limits: Watersports, scat, bloodplay, degradation
Open to pet names: Yes
~~~
Jared pins his sheet to the board amongst the other identical checklists with various answers and grabs a name sticker, pausing to scrawl ‘Jared’ in the space, before putting his pen back in the cup, the sticker on his chest, and moving away from the board entirely.
The small group of men and women that had made space for him crowd back in to read the sheet he pinned up and a surge of adrenaline rushes through him.
It’s not his first time here, not even his tenth. But he never gets over the rush that using the Blind Dom service brings.
You can bring a partner and play here, you can come alone and find a partner the regular way – by just talking to people. But if you’re a sub and you want to, you can fill out a form and let a Dom pick you based on nothing but your mutual interests.
The first time he tried it, he was terrified. He expected whoever chose him to take one look and leave. He’s too tall for a sub, too bulky, too strong – all things he’s heard before. But the man who’d come looking for him didn’t bat an eyelid. Confirmed his name, introduced himself as Rich, and led Jared to a private room where he gave Jared a damn religious experience.
Since then, he’s become a familiar name and face here. Lots of people want to dominate someone his size, it turns out. He’s become good at weeding out the ones who are only interested in bragging rights from the ones who actually share interests with him.
He makes his way to the bar, wanting a bottle of water. He contemplates the dance floor, thinking dancing might be nice. But he signed his real name tonight and that means someone will likely be looking for him soon. He’s not bragging, that’s just how it is. Sometimes he uses an alias just so a Dom won’t pick him by name and reputation alone. Usually that nets him an unfamiliar Dom who is more interested in what he wants to do than who he is, which is always nice.
Sitting on a bar stool, Jared watches the room and sips his water. The four-sided bar sits in the middle of the room and he chose a seat closest to the public play area. He watches the couples and groups, recognises a few familiar faces, before getting caught up in watching a small blonde choking on her Dom’s cock.
He’s giving her no grace or breathing room at all, just holding her head still while she chokes and retches. Foamy spit spills from the corners of her mouth, soaking her Dom’s crotch and spilling down his thighs. Tears are streaming down her face but her hand between her legs never stops moving, her hips twitching with every heave.
After about forty seconds – Jared counted – the man pulls her head back, letting his cock bounce free from her mouth. She retches again, a splash of something landing on the towel between her thighs, and spits out a string of foam and sticky saliva. Her Dom’s cock twitches at the sight, but he’s cupping her face, wiping her down with another towel and leaning in close to talk. Jared sees her nod, then nod again. Her Dom nods as well, sits back, and wipes her face again before dropping the towel on the arm of his chair and pulling her back onto his cock. He buries himself in her throat and, as Jared watches, she starts masturbating again, even as her body heaves against the intrusion.
God, that’s what Jared wants tonight. All of that. He’s open to any kind of sex, doesn’t mind if someone just wants to fuck. But if he has the choice, he wants someone to use him like that. He’s not crazy keen on being facefucked until he vomits, but he loves to ride the edge of that line. Almost over it but not quite, his own comfort ignored for the pleasure of his clenching throat around his Dom.
Arousal tightens his stomach as he watches the couple, mind wandering about how to pose this request to his play partner, when a tall man steps into his eyeline.
Even sitting, Jared doesn’t usually have to look up at people, but he looks up at this man. Tall, tall, tall, dressed in dark blue jeans and a black v-neck tee. Longish hair, not as long as Jared’s, but long enough to curl at the back of his neck and fall artfully over his forehead.
“You’re Jared?”
Smooth voice with a little lift, like the words should be spoken through a smirk.
“Yeah, I’m Jared.”
“I’m Sam. This is yours?”
He’s holding Jared’s form in his hand, angled so Jared can see his own handwriting on it. Jared nods.
“Great. Follow me, then?”
This is where Jared can say no, if he wants to, and the man, Sam, should walk away. Jared has no intentions of saying no. Sam is hot, his clothes clinging in the right places. And it looks like he might be a fraction taller than Jared, utterly unheard of here. His voice is a little off, a little cold, maybe. But that’s not a deal breaker. He’s met plenty of aloof Doms in his time. Maybe Sam is one of those Dom that doesn’t do closeness during a scene.
Jared stands and motions Sam to lead him. Sam turns and the crowd parts easily for them.
As they walk, Jared adjusts his posture, pulling himself up to his full height. They’re probably the same size, but Jared naturally hunches his shoulders, pulls himself inwards to look smaller and less intimidating. It’s a thrill to think this man could easily loom over him.
Sam leads them to a row of doors and chooses one with a green light over it, the door itself open to reveal the small room inside. It’s simple: a bed with plain sheets, a St. Andrew’s cross on the wall with wrist and ankle restraints, enough floor space for a sub to be laid out on the floor without bumping into anything, a cabinet with all kinds of toys inside, a mini-fridge disguised as a bedside table, and a box next to it with blankets and towels.
Once Jared closes the door behind them, he clicks the lock that turns the light outside red and makes sure no one but staff and security with keys can open it.
Sam turns to face him, still holding Jared’s form in his hand. He flourishes it slightly, straightening the paper to read it.
“Okay, you seem fairly open to anything. Hard limits are fine. Is there anything you particularly want to do?”
Again with the lift in his voice, like he’s hiding a smirk. Jared can tell he’s definitely not asking what Jared wants to do because he cares; more that he’s asking so it looks like he at least considered Jared before doing whatever he wants.
Either way, Jared is open tonight, so there’s not much that will make this a bad scene. He’ll ask for what he wants, but if it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen.
“I wanna get my face fucked. Hard.”
He doesn’t stutter or blush when he says it – he’s long past being embarrassed by what he likes.
Sam smiles, dimples peeking out. It should soften his face, but it doesn’t. It makes him look even stricter.
“What a coincidence. That’s exactly what I want to do to you.”
Sam looks him over, heat filling his eyes now.
“Safeword?”
“I use traffic lights. Green means I’m good. Yellow is stop and check in. Red is stop everything.”
Sam nods.
“Last thing, then, Jared, before I ruin that pretty mouth. In here, I’m your Master. Understand?”
Jared takes a deep breath.
“Yes, Master.”
Sam’s hand lands on his shoulder and Jared drops smoothly to his knees.
It’s quiet in the room for a while as Sam works to arrange Jared the way he wants him. He strips Jared’s button-down off, throwing it on the bed without care. Next, his wrists are tied with coarse rope: palms together in front of his body, fingers interlaced, and Jared is already getting a little floaty. Sam holds up a black leather collar with a leash attached to the D-ring and Jared nearly swallows his tongue as he nods.
When it’s buckled into place around his throat, Jared stops noticing the bored way Sam asks ‘Colour?’ after everything he does. He stops noticing much apart from the restriction on his throat when he swallows and Sam’s hands on him as he moves Jared’s body into the position he wants it.
“Colour?”
“Green. Very green.”
“Good. Open your eyes, then, look at me.”
Jared hadn’t realised his eyes were closed, but he forces them open and makes his head look up. He was right. Sam looms. The other end of the leash is curled around his fist and he pulls, gentle enough that Jared just sways.
“Look at you. Already half out of your mind just by being on your knees. It’s a good look for you, Jared.”
Sam strips off his tee, tossing it on the bed with Jared’s shirt. Jared can only stare. Sam is ripped. There’s barely any fat on him at all. His shoulders and chest are huge, stomach and abdomen solid and strong. There’s a black tattoo above his heart, a star outlined in fire. He’s wearing his jeans so low that Jared can see that he waxes.
Sam’s mouth tips up into an almost cruel smirk as he watches Jared looking at him.
“God, you look like a dog sitting for a treat. Practically drooling for my cock.”
He steps closer, so he’s in between Jared’s parted thighs.
“Let’s see what that pretty mouth can do, puppy.”
He holds out two fingers and Jared makes a show of licking them, like a real dog, covering them in spit, before he sucks them into his mouth. His moan is involuntary, just pure joy at having something in his mouth after hyping it up so much in his mind earlier.
Sam’s fingers are pleasantly thick enough, but they’re longer than he expected. They tease his gag reflex perfectly. Not enough to make him truly gag and retch, but enough to make him think he might. It’s exactly what he wanted.
“Good boy.”
Another moan for the praise.
Before he can register what’s happening, Sam’s hand is clamped over his mouth. His thumb and finger pinch Jared’s nose closed and his other hand cups the back of Jared’s head to keep the seal on his mouth tight. As much as he tries, there is no air getting to his lungs unless Sam allows it.
“Your sheet said you like breath play. Let’s see how long you can go.”
Jared’s sheet doesn’t actually say that. It never does. It says he’s open to breath play. The act scares the hell out of him, and that’s why he likes it.
This club is the only place he’s felt safe enough to try it. After the background checks they did on him before he was allowed to join, he knew he’d be safe. He might not know Sam from Adam, but the club has all his info ready to hand to the police if Jared gets hurt here. There are monitored cameras in every room. Someone is watching this now, and if he passes out, someone will be here in less than a minute to check on him, and no matter what they find, even if Sam is tending to him perfectly, management will end the scene and a note will be made on both their files about the incident.
Jared thinks he gets to around thirty seconds before Sam releases him to gulp in air. He’s not certain his count was accurate, though.
“Not a flinch or a wiggle. Such a good puppy.”
Not a flinch because his whole body freezes up when someone takes his air away; he locks up in panic. He assumes that if someone pushed it far enough his body would instinctively start to fight back, but it’s never happened.
But that’s what makes it so arousing. It’s ultimate surrender because it’s out of his control. He can’t do anything but what he’s told to do. And he doesn’t need to have his air cut off to feel it. Anything on his throat – like the collar he’s wearing now – is enough to tighten his belly with fear and arousal.
But it’s only now his brain is somewhat coming back online that he realises something important has been missed.
“Master?”
“Yes, puppy.”
Jared doesn’t look up at Sam’s face as he speaks.
“I need a non-verbal safeword. If we’re gonna do that.”
His brain is protesting at being made to think real thoughts after being so floaty, but he doesn’t want to get injured and he sure as hell doesn’t want this scene stopped.
“Of course.”
Sam steps away and Jared catches him muttering something, but not the actual words, and he’s back a moment later, bending down to push a small bell into Jared’s hands.
“Thank you, Master. I’ll ring it for yellow and drop it for red.”
Sam grunts in affirmation and steps back between Jared’s thighs. He starts undoing his belt while Jared is still arranging the bell to make sure it doesn’t ring without his permission.
“Is puppy happy now?”
Jared’s hands still once the bell is in position and he relaxes again, welcoming the hazy sensation back. He nods.
“Yes, Master.”
He doesn’t get another reply, just gets to watch Sam pull down his fly to reveal black underwear straining over his cock.
Sam puts his hand over Jared’s mouth again, not pinching his nose closed this time, just keeping his fingers pressed against Jared’s nostrils, making him have to breathe harder for the same air.
“You look good like this, you know. You’d look excellent in a mask or hood. But then we wouldn’t be able to see your pretty face.”
Jared melts a little further under the praise. He’s not used to being told he’s pretty. Handsome, sure, attractive, yes. But pretty? Not so much.
Slowly, Sam brings his thumb and finger into place against Jared’s nose and starts to squeeze.
“Look at me. Don’t close your eyes, I want to see.”
It’s hard to keep his eyes open and it makes the fear kick in all the harder. Sam’s face is perfectly blank, nothing to give away how he’s feeling as he holds Jared’s life in his hands. Jared’s stomach contracts and his cock kicks in his jeans. He’s afraid, truly afraid. But so turned on.
Sam releases his nose, lets him pull in a breath.
“Such a good puppy. You do as you’re told so well.”
Jared knows he does. He’s been told often. It’s what he enjoys about submitting. He has friends that get off on pushing the boundaries and being brats, but that’s never been him. He likes turning over control and letting someone else do the thinking for him. But right now, he wants to be used, not teased.
Sam’s palm is still pressed over his mouth, but not tightly, and he’s able to get his tongue out to lick wetly over Sam’s palm.
“Impatient.” Sam makes a tsking noise. “Let's see how pretty puppy can beg.”
He takes his hand from Jared’s face, cups his cock through his underwear and lets out a hiss.
Jared takes a deep breath to find his voice.
“Please, Master. Let me make you feel good. Use me, my mouth. Take what you want from me. I want it, I need it.”
If Jared hears himself whining by the end of the sentence, he ignores it. He’s desperate. Sue him.
“Oh, good boy!”
For the first time, Sam looks genuinely happy and a rush goes through Jared. He’s pleasing his Dom and that feels amazing.
“All right, puppy, you can have it.”
Sam pulls down his boxers, tucking them under his sac and letting his dick bounce freely. Jared feels his mouth start to water. It’s a beautiful cock. Long and thick and a pretty shade of pale pink that flushes deeper on the head. He has to let his mouth drop open to breathe through the arousal and he can feel drool sliding down his chin. There’s no room for embarrassment, though. There’s nothing but need. He aches to lean forwards and get it in his mouth, but Sam seems really keen on control and Jared is done being teased.
“I could sit and watch you drool for my dick all day long, pup. But it won’t suck itself. Get to it.”
Sam lets Jared come to him, but as soon as his lips touch the head of Sam’s cock there’s a fist in his hair that holds him with an iron grip. Jared can feel the twinges of hairs being yanked out and it makes him even harder. The leash clipped to his collar moves, too. It’s still lax, but he can see the end of it in Sam’s free hand now.
Sam doesn’t move him, just holds him and lets him explore.
Jared starts by pressing kisses to the head, starting out with soft smooches of his lips before letting his tongue get involved to lick away the clear fluid that coats it. He pauses to clean his lips and savour the bitter taste, and gets a warning pull on his hair.
Okay, no enjoying himself. Message received.
When he moves forwards, he lets Sam’s cock part his lips easily and cups his tongue so it cradles it. Sam seems happier with this so he presses further, letting the head bump against his throat and swallowing the gag that wants to happen.
He bobs his head up and down for a few strokes, getting used to the size and the weight of Sam’s cock in his mouth. He was right, it’s a perfect length and thickness that stretches his jaw and fills his mouth exactly how he wants.
He’s not completely adjusted when Sam starts pressing firmly on his head.
“C’mon, take it all.”
Jared likes to take his time, usually. Likes to kiss and lick and tease to find out what makes his partner tick. But he said he wanted his mouth fucked and if all Sam wants is the clutch of his throat, then he can have it.
He pulls off completely, clears his throat and spits on the floor to his side. He looks up at Sam as he licks his lips to see Sam smirking at him again. It sends a jolt of fear through him, which makes his cock kick in his boxers. Sam is going to push him now.
Opening his mouth, Jared places the head of Sam’s cock on his tongue and waits. Either Sam will understand or he’ll tell Jared to get on with it.
Sam cocks his head, looking almost like a bird looking at an insect. Then he adjusts his grip on Jared’s hair and pulls him forwards, steadily, until Jared’s nose is pressed to skin and all of Sam’s cock is in his mouth and throat.
His body reacts immediately, stomach heaving and throat contracting to try and clear his airways. Jared lets it happen, confident he won’t throw up. His eyes water and his lungs burn and his abs hurt and his throat keeps fluttering.
Sam holds him there for a short while – he’s past counting now – before pulling him back until only the head is left in his mouth. Jared tries to pull off completely, wanting to cough and clear his throat, but Sam doesn’t let him.
“No. I like you wet and messy like this, puppy.”
Jared nods; there’s nothing else he can do.
Sam pushes back inside his mouth, all the way to the base again and Jared hears himself choke. Sam just moans over the noise and holds him still. It’s harder to stay calm when his mouth and throat are full of spit and foam as well as cock, but it makes it more intense at the same time and he’s vaguely aware that he’s rocking his hips.
Sam pulls him up again, not all the way off but enough to breathe.
“Look at you – desperate to cum, aren’t you? This what you enjoy, puppy? Being used?”
God, it is, though. Jared loves this. He’d really like to wipe his face and clear his mouth, but being denied that is almost better than the relief would be. He’s right where he’s meant to be, on his knees for his Dom’s pleasure.
Sam adjusts his stance so his foot is under Jared and his calf is pressed against where Jared’s cock is straining in his jeans. Sam doesn’t give him permission to move, though.
“Someone trained you well, puppy.”
Jared looks up to nod when Sam thrusts his cock back into Jared’s mouth. It’s not as deep as before, just to the edge of his throat, but it’s fast and hard. Jared watches Sam's eyes fall closed in pleasure before his own eyes close against the tears being forced out of him. His throat makes wet gagging noises that Sam groans at.
“Such a good cocksucker. Gagging on my cock and loving it, aren’t you?”
Jared nods and tries to make a humming sound.
“I can feel how hard you are. Gonna hump my leg like a good puppy? Show me how much you want this load down your throat.”
It’s much less effort to let his hips roll than it was to hold them still, even as Sam keeps abusing his throat with brutal thrusts. The friction is just the right side of painful and Jared hopes he can at least hold out until Sam cums.
“That’s it. Good puppy.”
Sam pulls back again, gives him space to catch his breath, but all Jared can do is whimper. He can’t even cough with Sam still in his mouth, and it’s like choking on air.
“Such a pretty pup. All wet and messy and filthy now. Just how I like it. Gonna make you more of a mess now. Hope you’re ready.”
He doesn’t wait for Jared to respond either with confirmation or a safeword, just brings the hand holding Jared’s leash up to grip his cheeks, holding his jaw open. It’s an awkward angle, for Sam and Jared, but Sam doesn’t seem to care. Satisfied that Jared can’t bite his cock, he thrusts in to the hilt, pressing his other hand against the back of Jared’s skull so he can’t pull away.
Jared’s throat spasms and he dry-heaves. Hot spit fills his mouth but Sam doesn’t let him go.
“God. Your throat is tighter than a cunt. Gonna milk me dry.”
The words trail off into moans as Sam grinds Jared’s face against his pelvis to get that fraction deeper.
He can’t breathe and he’s afraid he’s going to pass out or actually throw up. But it’s perfect.
Sam’s moans get faster, deeper. His cock gets harder and his fingers dig deeper into Jared’s cheeks as the tension builds. Jared is starting to squirm now.
Then it breaks, Sam shouts and his cock starts to pulse. It’s buried so deep in Jared’s throat that he can’t even taste the cum it’s pumping out.
Sam releases his cheeks but keeps his face pressed against his pelvis. He winds the leash around his hand until it’s tight enough to press the collar into the back of Jared’s neck.
“C’mon now. Make yourself even more of a mess for me, puppy. You did a good job. You can cum.”
Jared isn’t focused on his orgasm as much as he is wanting to breathe. But Sam is starting to soften in his mouth now and it’s enough. He can just about taste the bitter salt of cum on the back of his tongue and Sam’s leg is solid against his cock and his head is rushing with oxygen again and it’s all exactly what he wanted. He cums with a muffled shout, grinding against Sam’s leg until it gets too sensitive and then slumping forwards.
Sam lets him go, drops the leash and awkwardly pets his hair for a second before letting his hand fall away.
Jared lets Sam’s cock fall from his mouth at last, not caring about the flood of foam, spit, and probably cum that falls out of his mouth too.
He’s still panting when Sam steps back and starts tucking himself back in.
“That was great. You good?”
Jared looks at him in confusion before nodding, not really sure what the question was.
“Great.”
Sam leans forwards and unclasps the collar, lets it fall onto Jared’s thigh before sliding onto the floor. He unties the ropes around Jared’s hands – doesn’t remove them, just leaves them loose on Jared’s wrists. He stands again.
“Well, see you around, maybe.”
Jared’s brain is coming back online enough to register that Sam is leaving. Leaving him.
“Wait?”
Sam is almost at the door now, and turns with his hand still on the lock.
“What?”
There’s impatience in his tone now and Jared cringes from it.
“What abou–” Sam’s face matches his voice now. “Nevermind. Have a good night.”
Sam has the grace to look uncomfortable at least. He clearly knows what Jared was going to say, but he isn’t going to follow up on it. He twists the lock and opens the door, steps through it without another word. The click of the latch closing makes Jared flinch.
Jared wants to curl up on the floor and cry. He wants Sam to come back. He never wants to see his face again. He really, really wants to cry.
He knows he’s on limited time now – Sam unlocking the door will have turned the light outside to amber and the cleaners will be here soon to reset the room.
Standing on wobbly legs, he shakes the rope from his wrists before he makes it over to the bed to grab his shirt. His wet jeans are starting to stick and chafe now, and he wants to at least clean the cum out of his boxers. It won’t stop his jeans feeling gross but it might help. He picks up his shirt and starts to get his arms in when he spots the paper. His sheet. Sam left it here. (Sam left him.) That’s never happened before and Jared can’t even say why it bothers him. Doms have always taken his sheet with them after a scene. They probably throw it away on their way out, but something about them taking a little piece of him with them has always felt good.
Sam left his sheet. (Sam left him.)
Jared abandons his buttons and snatches up the paper before leaving the room as the first tears start to fall.
~~~
“Hey, Jesus. You okay, man? Are you here with anyone?”
The voice hiccups through sobs.
“I’m fine. Just a little sub drop. I’ll be okay in a minute.”
Dean looks around, trying to spot the person who should be with this stunning man. No one seems to be paying him any attention, but he had tucked himself into a pretty deep corner. It was just luck Dean had heard him over the music.
“Are you here with your Dom?”
“No. No Dom.”
“Okay, are you here with anyone? Can I get someone for you?”
Somehow Dean has ended up on his knees in front of the crying man who is now worming his arms around Dean’s back while Dean cradles his head on his chest.
“Came here alone. Just a hook up. Honestly, I’m fine.”
The words belie the way the man is trying to crawl into his lap now.
“They left you alone like this?”
“He looked really uncomfortable when the scene was over. I thought I should just let him go. I didn’t expect this.”
Fury flashes through Dean. Who just leaves after a fucking scene? Uncomfortable my ass.
“Okay, I’m gonna help you. Can you stand? Yeah. Good. C’mon, that’s it.”
Dean gets an arm under the man and offers his support as he stands. Christ, he’s huge. Taller than Dean and that’s rare enough. He’s bare-chested, it turns out, shirt hanging open from his shoulders, but that’s easily covered by the way he turns in to Dean, almost folding in on him. It’s going to make walking impossible.
“Hey, big guy. You got a name to go with those muscles?”
That gets a hiccupy laugh into his neck.
“I’m Jared.”
“Hi, Jared, I’m Dean. Can you do something for me?”
It takes a moment but a slow nod comes.
“Can you just let go a sec and stand up straight? I’m gonna take care of you, Jared, I promise. But I’d like to get us somewhere quieter and, y’know… not in the corridor of the bathrooms.”
He feels the shudder of breath go through Jared, but he steps back, breaking all contact with Dean even as fresh tears come.
“Okay, no. C’mere.”
Dean grabs Jared’s hands and puts them on his shoulders. Another shudder as the contact is reestablished.
“Let’s just cover you up. Not that I’m complainin’ but I don’t think you want everyone seeing you like this, huh?”
Jared has let his hair fall forwards and it covers his face pretty well, but Dean can see the movement of his chest as he sniffles and the small shake of his head. He rushes to button up Jared’s shirt, to give him some dignity back.
“There we go. That’s better. C’mon.”
The easiest way to move through the people coming and going is to grab Jared’s hand and lead him, so that’s what Dean does. Jared’s hand is sweaty and it’s obvious he’s trying not to squeeze Dean’s in a death grip. Once again he’s filled with fury at whoever left Jared like this. It’s inhumane.
Physically biting his tongue to stop himself asking Jared who he was with tonight, Dean leads him to the private rooms, thankfully finding an open one quickly. He guides Jared inside with a hand on his back, trying not to notice the way Jared reaches for him in the moments they’re apart.
As soon as the door is locked, he grabs Jared’s hand again. Holding him tightly, he leads Jared around the room, grabbing some water and snacks from the mini-fridge, a blanket and a couple of towels from the box by the bed, and the pack of wet wipes that were left on the lid of it.
“There we go, got everything I need to take care of you now.”
Jared makes a hiccupping sound and lets Dean lead him to the bed.
“You wanna sit? You a cuddler, Jared?”
Jared nods and Dean drops his supplies on the bed before guiding Jared to sit on the edge of the mattress.
“Don’t worry, just gonna clean you up a little bit. Help you feel a bit better. Then we can snuggle all you want.”
He moves Jared’s hand to his hip, making sure to keep contact the whole time.
First step, try and stop Jared trembling. He doesn’t think Jared is actually cold, but a soft blanket is rarely unappreciated. He shakes it out and swishes it around Jared, resting it over his shoulders and pulling it close under his chin.
Next, clean his face. Jared is – to put it bluntly – a mess. A snotty, dribbly mess. There are still fresh tears falling down his cheeks, and his mouth and jaw are covered with god knows what. Dean grabs a few wet wipes and starts to carefully clean him up.
“Blow.”
Jared obeys without a word, blowing his nose into the wipe Dean holds against it. His breathing is starting to calm now. He’s still crying but it’s not sobbing anymore.
When Dean’s finished wiping all the yuck from Jared’s face, he dries it with the corner of a towel, making soft swipes over the skin that he hopes are soothing.
“There we go. Does that feel better?”
Jared nods and tilts his head up. Dean switches to a dry corner and sweeps it across Jared’s face. Not aiming to clean or dry now, just to let Jared have the sensation of soft fabric and gentle hands. Jared makes a soft moaning noise that makes Dean’s cock twitch. God, this man would be a dream to scene with. If this is how he reacts to aftercare…
“Was it… uhh. Was the scene bad?”
Jared’s voice breaks a little when he speaks, but he clears his throat and tries again.
“No. It was great. Just really intense, y’know.”
Dean pulls the towel away and looks at Jared closely.
“And he just walked out?”
“Well, he was a little off the whole way through. I thought he just preferred being strictly business. It wasn’t enough to make me call the scene, though. I can advocate for myself. Well…”
“Hey, no. You’re not you when you’re coming down. He should never have left you like that. Do you want to report him?”
While he asks the question, he checks both of Jared’s wrists, examining the red marks left there by the coarse rope he knows the club stocks. He wonders if Jared requested it or Dickhead the Dom chose it.
“No. Well. Maybe. I don’t know. I probably should.”
Dean has a lot of opinions on what should happen to this mystery Dom. A fist to the nuts is first on the list.
“You can email the club tomorrow. Did you get his name?”
Jared nods.
“See how you feel tomorrow, then.” He turns Jared’s hands over one last time. “These feel okay? Not hurting or anything?”
“They’re fine.”
Dean throws the towel back on the bed and sits next to Jared.
“Okay, time to hydrate and protein-ate.”
He lets Jared crack the seal on the water bottle but puts his arm around Jared’s shoulders to hold him steady and the bottle steady as he gulps at it. Rinse and repeat with a protein bar, a candy bar, and then another bottle of water.
Jared finally stops shaking after the candy bar.
“There we go. Good boy. Feel a little better now?”
Jared turns his face into Dean’s neck, but he feels the nod and then the yawn.
“Okay, big guy. I was promised some snuggles. I’ve never been the big spoon to someone your size but I’ll probably make an awesome jetpack.”
Jared shakes his head.
“No, you wanna be the big spoon?”
“Can I lie on your chest?”
It’s muffled into his skin, but Dean hears it.
“Of course. C’mon, then.”
Between them they manage to manoeuver onto the bed and arrange themselves so Dean is laid flat and Jared is draped over him like a living blanket. Dean tucks the actual blanket back around Jared so he’s snuggled up and then wraps his arms around him, too, one hand on his back and the other in his hair.
Jared makes a soft sound and melts into Dean’s body, all tension gone.
“That’s it. You relax. I’ve got you, Jared. I’ve got you.”