Hooker!Fic
Title: Hooker!fic
Author:Vamphile
Pairing: J2
Rating: R(ish)
Word Count: 13K +/-
Summary Jared's a Hooker. Jensen works at the local outreach center. They like each other… a lot.
A/N: I wrote this a while ago. I’ve been working on something else since and keep forgetting to post this. So, now I’m remembering to post it. Feedback’s nice, if you’re into that kind of thing
Thanks to:
passing_through and candygramme and raeschae for the beta work, (yes, it took three people)
Jensen was working on next weeks schedule at one of the tables in the cafeteria. He technically had an office but rarely used it, he needed to be available in case someone came in looking for services or one of the many people already receiving services needed something. He was trying to figure out how to give Stephanie the three days off she needed for her sister’s wedding without working six twelve hour days in a row when a family walked in, their movements awkward, not sure where to go. He’d seen it a hundred times, or more. He’d lost count.
The man, boy really, couldn’t be out of his teens and a young woman, a baby on her hip and a toddler clinging to her jeans were all sort of staring at the floor. Eventually the father squared his shoulders. He was taller than Jensen had originally estimated. Jensen stood up and smiled, walking towards them. “Hi. He crouched down to meet the child’s eyes. “How are you doing?”
The kid, a boy by the looks of his clothes, but that was still just a guess, hugged tighter to his mother’s leg and Jensen stood up. “I don’t think I’ve seen you guys in here before.” The mother shook her head. “We were staying with my sister but her new boyfriend…” she shook her head and Jensen understood. “Well, c’mon back to my office, we can do a little intake paperwork and get you some help, okay?”
She nodded and Jensen ushered them towards the back where they’d have some privacy. He was surprised when the father turned around to leave but the mother didn’t seem surprised so he figured he’d find out what that was about as soon as he could.
He pulled out the basic intake form, staring with the names and ages of all the members of the family. The mother was 19, the kids 3 and 6 months, and the father…?
She shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since my first trimester. When he found out I was pregnant again he left.”
“But…the man you came in with…” Jensen left it open waiting for her to fill in the blanks. She seemed genuinely confused and then suddenly her expression cleared. “Oooh, him, he was just showing me where you were. I thought you were on the other block. I don’t know him, but he said the area wasn’t so good to be walking around with two kids.“
Jensen nodded and continued gathering information. Belinda’s story was one he’s heard before. Kicked out by her mother for getting knocked up by a black boyfriend, moved in with her sister, who was living in a section eight apartment and on TANF. Between the two of them they had five kids and four adults in one two bedroom apartment. Sister gets a new boyfriend, he comes with a drug addiction and a criminal record and Belinda is now on the streets. He takes a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from the kitchen for the three year old boy, Malik, and makes sure she’s already signed up for WIC and Famis. “We’ll be able to give you a cubicle with two cribs for about a month while we get you lined up for something more permanent. We have some daycare for six months while you conduct a job search, and we have someone who’ll help you with that as well.”
She nodded and he introduced her to Danneel who ran the women’s shelter, handing off her paperwork and went back to scheduling. Next week was going to be a long one at this rate. He moved to the kitchen to grab an apron and give the volunteers a hand. He lost himself in the rhythm of cutting up the vegetables for the salad and making the macaroni and cheese. He was about to grab a spoon to start serving when Danneel grabbed his arm. “It’s almost five.”
“I know.”
“You got here at six this morning.”
“I know.”
“You’re going home now.”
“I…” she quirked an eyebrow at him. “Know”
“I promise, lots of people will need your help tomorrow too.”
“Okay, just… I left next week’s schedule on my desk.”
“I’ll post it after the dinner rush slows down. Go home.”
Jensen nodded and left, saying hi to some of the regulars on the way out.
~*~*~*~
Jensen unlocked his ten year old Subaru hatchback, got in and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel for a moment. It had actually been a good day all things considered. They’d served over two hundred breakfasts, three hundred and fifty lunches and it looked like they’d be over two hundred for dinner as well. Shamika and her daughter had reunited with her mother, and would be back for interview and job skill training, The Center had received a donation from a local market of enough diapers to keep them going for at least a month, and an interested citizen had chaperoned a family in need to the shelter. He wished he’d had a chance to thank the kid. Jensen started his car and used the west entrance. He’d go home but first he wanted to do a quick sweep of the neighborhood, do the outreach part of his job.
He cruised down Main St. Making a right onto C Street, driving slowly so he could glance down the alleys. He found Sean at the corner of 29th and D and handed him a couple of long strips of condoms. Sean leaned back against the wall and waited impatiently for him to go away and stop ruining his after work business. Jensen conducted similar transactions as he crisscrossed the neighborhood. He was back on Elm heading home when he saw the kid who’d helped Belinda. He watched him duck his head into a car and Jensen was pissed. So, not just a helpful citizen, also a hooker. He honked, loudly and the car sped away, barely leaving the kid time to back his head out of the front window.
He pulled up slowly. The kid was scowling at him. “What the fuck was that for?”
Jensen looked at him, feigned wide-eyed innocence. “I just wanted to thank you for helping with Belinda.”
“Who? Oh, that girl, yeah, well, she was looking for you guys.”
“But you’re not?”
“Why would I be?”
“Because you’re new around here. And you haven’t been on the streets long.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Your clothes are still pretty clean, and in good shape.”
“Maybe I have a sugar daddy.”
“Who sends you out to solicit on a high traffic corner where you’ll get picked up by the cops before dark?”
The kid crossed his arms.
Jensen sighed. “Hi, by the way, I’m Jensen.” And then he waited. The kid didn’t leave, but he refused to make eye contact. Finally he sighed and said “Jared.”
“Jared, nice to meet you. Why don’t we go back to the shelter and we can work something out.”
“You want to fuck me on retainer?”
“No.” Jensen worked to keep the frustration out of his voice. “I thought maybe we could find someplace for you to stay, some other line of work.”
Jared shook his head. “I’m good.”
Jensen stared at him for a few seconds trying to keep in mind what his director had taught him on his first day, and repeated often “don’t spend too much energy on the ones who don’t want the help. There are plenty of people who do.” he knew she was right. Didn’t make it any easier to drive away from a kid who was headed for trouble. He reached into the large box on the passenger seat and held out two strips of condoms and a pamphlet on safe sex to Jared. “At least be safe.”
Jared rolled his eyes, holding up the condoms “these things cut into my profit margin.”
Jensen gripped the steering wheel tightly to prevent himself from dragging Jared back to the shelter by the scruff of his neck. He handed Jared a card. “Call or come by if you need anything, we can help.”
Jared walked away and Jensen drove home. So, maybe today hadn’t been as successful as he’d hoped.
~*~*~*~
Jensen tossed his backpack onto the couch, microwaved a frozen burrito grabbed a beer and spread out the forms and information sheets that needed to go into the outreach packets. He started to assemble them while he watched some crappy reality television. He’d missed the last few episodes, but he didn’t really care what happened so that all balanced out.
He was so engrossed in getting all 150 packets done he honestly didn’t notice that Misha had emerged from his room 'til he propped his feet up on top of a stack of CDC STD sheets. “Hey!”
“Sorry, I thought you were done working for the day.”
Jensen just glared. He was really tired. Everyone said he worked too much but he knew he didn’t. He worked as much as he needed to in order to get the job done. That’s how work…worked, right?
“Don’t glare at me.” Misha ran a hand through is hair, which was sticking up as if this was the first time he’d gotten out of bed… ever. He was wearing a pair of lounge pants, and nothing else. It was seven at night.
Misha finished Jensen's beer and shrugged, plucking the remote from beside Jensen and beginning his seemingly never ending quest for something better on TV.
~*~*~*~
Jensen took a similar route home every day, giving him a chance to hand out more condoms and emergency contact cards. He hadn’t seen Jared again. Maybe that was a good thing and Jared had found a better way to earn money. But Jensen knew there were a million or so other reasons that a street kid disappeared and going home to his loving but misguided family was the not the most common reason.
Two or so weeks later it was starting to get cold. Fall was blowing in fast and harsh. The center had started their winter coat drive and changed their menu to reflect the weather. Jensen turned the heat in his car up as he kept the driver’s side window down and drove around each block handing out supplies when he came across Jared. “hey.”
“hey.”
“haven’t seen you around here in a while.”
Jared's arms were crossed against him, in deference to the cold, or in a defensive posture, Jensen wasn’t sure. “you been okay?”
“yeah. Fine.”
“well, the offer still stands, you know, for help, from the center.”
“nah, I’m good.”
“well, okay, then, at least take these and…”
Jared nodded and snatched the strips of condoms out of Jensen's hands. “bye”
Jensen drove home.
~*~*~*~
In the middle of the next week Jared walked a young boy, couldn’t be more than fourteen, limping, and with a fresh cut on his face, into the center. Jensen came over to help Jared. “what happened?”
Jared shrugged. “he was fine this morning. You said you could help.”
“don’t need any fucking help.” The kids mumbled through a swollen lip and bloody at the corner of his mouth and an eye that would be swollen completely shut by nightfall.
“yeah, you’re doin’ so well on your own.” Jared interjected, walking the kid over to one of the chairs that lined the room and sitting him down. “this is Jensen. He’ll help.”
Jared was gone before Jensen could turn to retrieve the first aid kit. He wanted to say something but Jared didn’t want his help and this kid clearly needed it.
It took him three days to straighten the whole thing out. Get the kid, Calvin, back to his grandmother’s house, arrange some family counseling through city social services, and clear his desk of the whole mess. He drove by Jared's usual spot on the way home. Jared wasn’t there.
He was there the next day though. “Calvin went home. Thank you for your help. He needed it.”
“no shit.” Jared's hands were shoved deep in his pockets and his voice quaked just a little. He was cold.
“Car’s heated. Have a seat for a minute. I promise I won’t try and convert you or anything.”
Jared seemed to be considering it and then shook his head. “I’m not that cold.”
Jensen nodded. “yeah, it hasn’t really gotten cold yet. But here, I’ve got sandwiches and I’m just gonna have to throw them out if I don’t find someone to take a couple” he held out two ham and cheese sandwiches wrapped in wax paper. Jared grabbed them fast, as if the offer might be rescinded. “yeah, I guess no one ever got converted by a sandwich.”
Jensen nodded and finished his slow, circuitous route home wondering how long he could hand sandwiches and condoms to kids that were probably not gonna make it past twenty-one and wondering why he bothered at all.
He spent the night writing notes he hadn’t had the time to write that day because Betsy’s husband found out where she was staying. He’d burst in threatening and yelling. He broke a chair, a crib and Betsy’s heart before the police escorted him out of the building. Thankfully that fell under Danneel's jurisdiction and it was her Serious Incident Report to complete and not his. He just had to track down another crib. They were already short on them.
He stared at the name at the top of the next note. Jamar Latimer. Jamar… Jensen thought. He knew he’d been staying in the men’s shelter for almost a week. He knew he’d eaten breakfast with him yesterday, but today… had he even spoken to Jamar today? Had he even seen him? He was on the list so clearly he had been there but Jensen had no idea how to write a note on a man he didn’t know, had shared a table with once and had done nothing for. He had done Jamar’s intake but for the life of him couldn’t remember a single goal they’d set, or how he’d ended up at the shelter in the first place.
He grabbed another beer and pushed the pages aside with immaculate timing. Misha came home just as the pages were fluttering to the other side of the couch. “problem?”
Jensen glared at Misha who took his beer and sat back on the part of the sofa not covered in client notes. “You know, your glare resembles that of a pouting four year old faced with a plate of broccoli.”
Jensen gave him the finger.
“ahh, clever.”
They sat in silence for a while, and Jensen knew he had to leave or talk. Misha could withstand silence for days, weeks even. “I don’t even know my fucking clients.”
“do you know the ones who aren’t sex workers?”
“funny.”
“Jensen, you can’t know all of them.”
“the ones sleeping there… I could bother to know a thing or two about them.”
“but you don’t sleep there. So what, you can’t remember the name of some guy who checks in at four thirty, which is, I might add, right before you’re supposed to be leaving for the day, and checks out after breakfast, which is over about when you’re supposed to be coming in. You work too many hours, and maybe it’s taking its toll on all that individualized customer service you like to provide.”
“or maybe I just suck at this job because I…”
Misha was staring at him now, waiting.
“never mind.”
“okay, but you love this job. You turned down far more lucrative offers after grad school to take a job on the front lines. So if that’s changed… well, we could use a new microwave, so I’d be psyched if you wanted to go the lucrative route.”
Jensen slammed his bedroom door and tried not to think about it, or about the fact that he was jerking off because his low-paying front-line job left him zero time for something even resembling a social life, let alone time to actually develop a relationship. Although at this rate, a random one night stand might be what he needed. He pictured the perfect guy in his head, came, and then fell asleep feeling guilty and not at all satisfied.
~*~*~*~
Over a week later he was helping to serve dinner when Samantha came in. She was what they kindly called a “frequent flyer.” She was a tiny thing, no more than five foot two, couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, in love with an asshole three times her weight and a good foot taller than she was. He got angry and violent, she got hurt and then used the center as safe place to heal before she went back to him. When Jensen had first met her, a couple of years ago he’d tried, hard, to find her someplace else to go. He’d connected her with a job coach and a woman who was looking for a roommate, she could have escaped this part of her life, but she chose not to. She always chose not to. Jensen nodded to her as she filled her tray.
“Back again.”
“You know how it goes.” She had the decency to look slightly embarrassed.
“I guess I do.” he dumped some cauliflower on her plate and watched as she walked with a slight limp to the far table. Once all the meals were served he took his own tray and joined her. Willing to listen, or try again, or just do something today that might feel like he was more than a glorified custodian.
“So, how’ve you been?”
She smiled and it looked real. “good, I’ve been good. I was working for awhile, but Anton called about a hundred times a day, so that didn’t last long.”
Jensen nodded and did even consider giving her some more pointless and sage advice.
“then I got some good news.”
Jensen raised his eyebrows, waiting.
“I’m gonna have a baby.”
Jensen almost choked on his rice. How, in her situation, is that good news? He plastered on a fake smile. “Congratulations. We’ve got some parenting classes, you should…” fuck, she was crying.
“hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
The crying got worse and he ignored her food, putting an arm around her and leading her back to his office for some privacy.
“Mr. Jensen…”
Jensen waited sitting next to her rather than across the desk from her. His office door was open, standard policy when he was alone with anyone. Danneel ducked her head in, surveyed the situation and then pointed back out to the dining room, indicating where he could find her if he needed her. He moved a box of tissues closer to Samantha. She took one, wiped her eyes and started shredding it in her hands.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“well, what do you want to do?” Jensen had a bunch of pamphlets with options from termination to adoption to witness protection like programs in order for the mother and child to leave the abuser. he wasn’t so soul dead yet that he was ready to just shove pamphlets at her. Instead he waited.
“I gotta have it. I’m already five months along.”
Jensen tried to wrap his brain around that. She wasn’t showing… at all. Tight jeans, a t-shirt and sweater and not a single sign that she was more than halfway through her pregnancy.
Samantha looked up at Jensen. “he’s getting worse, and I’m worried for the baby.”
“Have you been to a doctor. Are you taking prenatal vitamins? Are you receiving WIC?” he was asking pointless questions because the big one… “is he gonna beat you so badly you miscarry or die?” just couldn’t make it past his lips. “we can get you…”
“…away from him. I know, you all think that’s what’s best.”
“I just think you’d be happier if you felt safe.”
She shrugged. “I love him.”
He shrugged. “okay, so, are you okay now, physically?”
“kinda, I think he messed up my arm.”
She had a purse hanging off of her shoulder, it was large and when she used her other hand to remove it Jensen saw the odd angle. he’d dislocated her shoulder.
“we’re gonna take you to the hospital, okay. get you and the baby checked out and then we’ll take it from there.”
“you’re always so calm. Why can’t other men be so calm in a crisis.”
Jensen didn’t answer. He knew why he was calm. He just couldn’t find it in himself to care like that anymore.
They were heading back out to the dining room where a staff member would accompany Samantha to the ER when they heard a loud bellow followed by a clattering that Jensen recognized as chairs being tossed across the linoleum floor. He pushed Samantha behind him and walked forward in time to see… Jared? Jared body checked the guy and had him pinned to the ground. “calm the fuck down.”
“get off me before I kill you.”
Jensen wasn’t sure exactly how Jared's long but narrow frame was keeping Samantha’s boyfriend down that effectively but it was. Jamal was struggling, but couldn’t quite get free. He got an arm loose and managed to make contact with Jared's face, but just as quickly Jared had him pinned again, Straddling Jamal’s wider body with his own.
Mark, a volunteer staff member took Samantha out through the back to get her to the hospital. Jensen stepped forward and was about to assist Jared when the police arrived. They cuffed Jamal and pushed him into the back of the car. Two other officers, both familiar with the center, stayed to take statements from those willing to give them, which consisted mostly of staff. Not a lot of clients really wanted their name on any type of police report.
Jensen grabbed the first aid kit and some ice pushing Jared into a seat while he was trying to slip out the front door.
“uh uh, park it.”
“just a split lip, I’m fine.”
“yeah, let me get a look at that before you head off into the night.”
“you make it sound so theatrical.”
“well, you swooped in to save the day, so…”
“I didn’t swoop in, I saw him three blocks away, I followed ‘cause he looked like he was gonna hurt someone.”
Jensen pressed the ice pack against Jared's lip, effectively shutting him up. “you know, most people would move in the opposite direction of someone his size looking to make some noise.”
Jared shrugged. he tried to talk but all that came out was a muffled sound through the ice pack.
“you could have gotten hurt.”
Jared shrugged again and mumbled something. Jensen removed the ice pack. “what?”
“didn’t pick this job for it’s safety.”
“so what, you’re out there selling your ass to be closer to damsels in distress?”
“haven’t you ever heard of the whore with the heart of gold?”
Jensen laughed. “yeah, in fictional accounts of whores.”
Jared took the ice pack out of Jensen's hand. “I may be a whore, but it doesn’t make me a bad person.” He walked out, taking the ice pack with him.
Jensen ran the ten feet across the room and stopped Jared. “hey I didn’t… I mean… we serve hot meals here, three times a day. He grabbed a schedule off the cork board by the front door. “free food. Better than the sandwiches in my car, right?”
Jared put the ice back on his lip and walked off. he didn’t drop the meal schedule though… so there was that.
~*~*~*~
Jared started to come in for breakfast after that. Not every day, not on any kind of schedule but still, he came in, ate like someone was going to snatch the food from him before he finished and then left without saying a word to anyone. Jensen attempted, twice to sit next to him but Jared just slid down the table and away from him. Jensen tried to make contact with the other clients instead. Maybe he could write a better note if he spoke to them rather than just observed. He didn’t quite remember when he’d stopped really talking to them but he realized that he had, and it wasn’t good for the center or for the clients.
It was mid afternoon, just after the lunch rush. Usually a quiet time at the center. The young kids all down for naps, the school aged kids still in school, crisis happened in the early morning, or late at night, not usually in the middle of the day. This was a time for restocking shelves, fundraising and paperwork. He just couldn’t face any of it. Instead he sat in Danneel's office while she convinced a local retailer to donate three cribs and a bunch of onesies to the mother and infant program. When she was done and had texted Teresa to take the van and pick them up before he changed his mind she closed her door put her hair back in a pony tail and stared at Jensen. “What is up with you?”
“Nothing I’m just…”
“Burning yourself out.”
“No, I think I did that already.”
Danneel slumped. “You’re quitting?”
“What? No? Who said that? I’m not quitting.”
“But you’re burnt out.”
“I just… Samantha, she’s…”
“Making bad choices, Jensen, she’s a human, and she’s making really bad choices. You can’t take that personally.”
“I don’t, I don’t take any of it personally, that’s the problem.”
“The new kid.”
“What new kid.”
“The street kid. You’re taking him pretty personally.”
“What are you insinuating?”
Danneel sat back, hands up, shaking her head. “I’m not insinuating a damn thing, but you’re trying with him. The way you used to try with everyone. What’s up with that?”
“He’s still got potential. He’s… everyone one here is so steeped in their miserable situation all we’re doing is managing their comfort level.”
“Is that really what you think, that this is all bullshit. We’re nothing but a glorified soup kitchen?”
Jensen thought about it; really thought. “No. I know we’re not. I think I am. I think I’m just… I don’t believe I can help people affect a real change in their life. I’m spinning my wheels and handing out pamphlets and condoms.”
“What would make you feel better?”
“A single success story.”
Danneel laughed. “You want someone to become the CEO of a major corporation and start giving back to those who helped her get there? Jensen. We have success stories here every day. Samantha is in the hospital until the baby’s born, at which point she comes back here for parenting lessons and job training. Her boyfriend spent ten days in jail. How is that not success?”
“He’s out.”
“Yes, bad people will continue to exist. Did you know Betsy got a job at a day care center so she can have her kid with her all the time? She’s talking to one of the women there about possibly rooming with her. Do you remember Betsy when she came in? That’s success. Oh, and Calvin, he’s slept here for the past five nights, and he doesn’t seem to be sick or hurt. So maybe he’s off the streets, maybe he’s not pedaling his ass for cash. That’s success.”
“I guess.”
“Jensen. There’s success in this building, in this neighborhood every day, and you used to see that. You used to be that. You’ve got your supervision time in; you know Celia will sign off on it. If you want to go be a Licensed Professional Counselor, go, hang a shingle and do it. You’ll be great. You’re one of my best friends and this place will miss you like crazy but don’t be here if you don’t want to, that’s not success.
Jensen left Danneel's office feeling less sure than he had when he’d walked in. Betsy had weighed every word she’d said when she’d first gotten here, a year on the streets, seven months of it pregnant and now she had a job paying minimum wage, so… success. He sat at his desk shifting through his paperwork, filling it out mindlessly; it wasn’t hard when every day felt pretty much the same. He logged out and headed home, still circling the blocks and handing out condoms and lube packets to anyone who would take them.
It had gotten even colder. Jared was wearing a sweatshirt over his t-shirt and Jensen could still see he was shivering. He made a motion with his head. “Get in, just to warm up.” Jensen took his hands off the wheel to show his sincerity.
Jared seemed to think about it and finally walked around the car climbing into the front seat. Jensen was moving the box of supplies to the back as Jared pulled the door closed. “That must be hard to explain on a date.”
“I just let them think I’m really easy. It works surprisingly well with men. I suppose if I were straight it would take more explanation.”
Jared looked surprised for a second. “You’re not straight?”
“Nope. Why, does that make you feel less safe in the car with me?”
Jared seemed to be biting back a half smile. “I think I could probably take you if I had to. I was just surprised they let you work at a place like that with, you know…”
“My big fat gayness?”
“Well, yeah.”
“You know it’s not a disease right?”
“That’s not what that nasty little pamphlet you handed me said.”
“Hey, that was about unsafe sex, not about being gay.”
Jared shrugged. “Tomato, tomahto.”
“Not really, no. I mean, I’m assuming you’re gay, but are you… just gay for pay?”
“Hard to tell. Why are we talking about this?”
“Because you brought it up and I’m a nosy bastard.”
“You really are, you know that, right.”
“I just said it. Have you ever had sex with a girl?”
“Once, but… nothing to write home about.”
“And if you were to write home, where would that be?”
Jared was out of the car and down the alley almost before Jensen realized what was happening.
“Well fuck” Jensen drove home and stared unseeingly at the television until it didn’t seem completely pathetic to go to bed.
He woke up somewhere around three and considered trying to go back to sleep but decided to just get the day started instead.
The sun wasn’t out yet and the streets were a little more crowded than at six when he usually hit the corners. It was cold, but most people he saw weren’t exactly bundled up. He stopped at the alley Jared had bolted down but it was deserted. Three streets over Jared was shoving money into his pocket and getting into some guy’s car. He didn’t honk, but he didn’t move his car either. He watched as Jared's head disappeared below the rear windshield, occasionally bobbing into view. Less than ten minutes later Jared got out of the car and was leaning against a wall again, the car drove off and Jensen wondered who the fuck drove around looking for a blowjob at four in the morning.
He was deeper in thought than he’d realized when someone banged on the window. “What the fuck are you watching, you perv.”
Jensen recognized him. He’d given him pamphlets and Trojans before but never gotten his name. He wasn’t a big one for talk and had never seemed open to a frank discussion about the dangers of his chosen profession. The guy was banging harder and Jensen couldn’t drive away without possibly running over this guy’s foot. He just sat, numb, wondering if insurance covered some psychotic-should-be-client battering in your driver’s side window. The banging stopped and Jared was looking at him. Then he knocked once and came around to the passenger side. Jensen let him in. He started to move the car but Jared put his hand on the gearshift. “ If we drive out of sight they’re going to assume it’s so I can blow you, or so you can fuck me”.
Jensen put the car back in park.
“What are you doing here?”
“Heading in to work.”
“At four in the morning.”
“You were working.”
“Jensen, I’m a hooker. I have different hours than you do.”
“Yeah.”
“What.”
“I forget sometimes.”
“Forget what?”
“What it is you guys do. How do you do that, just… turn off the part that feels something?”
“Same way you do I guess.”
“I don’t…”
Jared raised an eyebrow. “You care, no doubt, but you don’t… I don’t know… sometimes you’re going through the motions. I get it. your job is probably hard too, I guess.”
“This from a kid who sells his body for money.”
“Hey, I’m not a kid, I’m legal, which, I know, is not always a selling point but I’m my own man, what I do, it’s up to me, not some power tripping social worker, or foster parent or older sibling. It’s my call. Remember that.”
“Jesus.”
“What?”
“Nothing really. I forgot I could still be surprised.”
“Yeah well, my story isn’t exactly rare.”
“No, no it isn’t.”
“You okay?”
“I have no fucking idea.”
Jared laughed. “Welcome to the rest of the world. Now why don’t you go back to your sunny happy world at the center and make every day a success!” It was Jensen's turn to laugh. Jared got out of the car and Jensen drove to the Sunshine Center, the same way he had for over two years.
Cont.
Author:Vamphile
Pairing: J2
Rating: R(ish)
Word Count: 13K +/-
Summary Jared's a Hooker. Jensen works at the local outreach center. They like each other… a lot.
A/N: I wrote this a while ago. I’ve been working on something else since and keep forgetting to post this. So, now I’m remembering to post it. Feedback’s nice, if you’re into that kind of thing
Thanks to:
passing_through and candygramme and raeschae for the beta work, (yes, it took three people)Jensen was working on next weeks schedule at one of the tables in the cafeteria. He technically had an office but rarely used it, he needed to be available in case someone came in looking for services or one of the many people already receiving services needed something. He was trying to figure out how to give Stephanie the three days off she needed for her sister’s wedding without working six twelve hour days in a row when a family walked in, their movements awkward, not sure where to go. He’d seen it a hundred times, or more. He’d lost count.
The man, boy really, couldn’t be out of his teens and a young woman, a baby on her hip and a toddler clinging to her jeans were all sort of staring at the floor. Eventually the father squared his shoulders. He was taller than Jensen had originally estimated. Jensen stood up and smiled, walking towards them. “Hi. He crouched down to meet the child’s eyes. “How are you doing?”
The kid, a boy by the looks of his clothes, but that was still just a guess, hugged tighter to his mother’s leg and Jensen stood up. “I don’t think I’ve seen you guys in here before.” The mother shook her head. “We were staying with my sister but her new boyfriend…” she shook her head and Jensen understood. “Well, c’mon back to my office, we can do a little intake paperwork and get you some help, okay?”
She nodded and Jensen ushered them towards the back where they’d have some privacy. He was surprised when the father turned around to leave but the mother didn’t seem surprised so he figured he’d find out what that was about as soon as he could.
He pulled out the basic intake form, staring with the names and ages of all the members of the family. The mother was 19, the kids 3 and 6 months, and the father…?
She shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since my first trimester. When he found out I was pregnant again he left.”
“But…the man you came in with…” Jensen left it open waiting for her to fill in the blanks. She seemed genuinely confused and then suddenly her expression cleared. “Oooh, him, he was just showing me where you were. I thought you were on the other block. I don’t know him, but he said the area wasn’t so good to be walking around with two kids.“
Jensen nodded and continued gathering information. Belinda’s story was one he’s heard before. Kicked out by her mother for getting knocked up by a black boyfriend, moved in with her sister, who was living in a section eight apartment and on TANF. Between the two of them they had five kids and four adults in one two bedroom apartment. Sister gets a new boyfriend, he comes with a drug addiction and a criminal record and Belinda is now on the streets. He takes a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from the kitchen for the three year old boy, Malik, and makes sure she’s already signed up for WIC and Famis. “We’ll be able to give you a cubicle with two cribs for about a month while we get you lined up for something more permanent. We have some daycare for six months while you conduct a job search, and we have someone who’ll help you with that as well.”
She nodded and he introduced her to Danneel who ran the women’s shelter, handing off her paperwork and went back to scheduling. Next week was going to be a long one at this rate. He moved to the kitchen to grab an apron and give the volunteers a hand. He lost himself in the rhythm of cutting up the vegetables for the salad and making the macaroni and cheese. He was about to grab a spoon to start serving when Danneel grabbed his arm. “It’s almost five.”
“I know.”
“You got here at six this morning.”
“I know.”
“You’re going home now.”
“I…” she quirked an eyebrow at him. “Know”
“I promise, lots of people will need your help tomorrow too.”
“Okay, just… I left next week’s schedule on my desk.”
“I’ll post it after the dinner rush slows down. Go home.”
Jensen nodded and left, saying hi to some of the regulars on the way out.
Jensen unlocked his ten year old Subaru hatchback, got in and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel for a moment. It had actually been a good day all things considered. They’d served over two hundred breakfasts, three hundred and fifty lunches and it looked like they’d be over two hundred for dinner as well. Shamika and her daughter had reunited with her mother, and would be back for interview and job skill training, The Center had received a donation from a local market of enough diapers to keep them going for at least a month, and an interested citizen had chaperoned a family in need to the shelter. He wished he’d had a chance to thank the kid. Jensen started his car and used the west entrance. He’d go home but first he wanted to do a quick sweep of the neighborhood, do the outreach part of his job.
He cruised down Main St. Making a right onto C Street, driving slowly so he could glance down the alleys. He found Sean at the corner of 29th and D and handed him a couple of long strips of condoms. Sean leaned back against the wall and waited impatiently for him to go away and stop ruining his after work business. Jensen conducted similar transactions as he crisscrossed the neighborhood. He was back on Elm heading home when he saw the kid who’d helped Belinda. He watched him duck his head into a car and Jensen was pissed. So, not just a helpful citizen, also a hooker. He honked, loudly and the car sped away, barely leaving the kid time to back his head out of the front window.
He pulled up slowly. The kid was scowling at him. “What the fuck was that for?”
Jensen looked at him, feigned wide-eyed innocence. “I just wanted to thank you for helping with Belinda.”
“Who? Oh, that girl, yeah, well, she was looking for you guys.”
“But you’re not?”
“Why would I be?”
“Because you’re new around here. And you haven’t been on the streets long.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Your clothes are still pretty clean, and in good shape.”
“Maybe I have a sugar daddy.”
“Who sends you out to solicit on a high traffic corner where you’ll get picked up by the cops before dark?”
The kid crossed his arms.
Jensen sighed. “Hi, by the way, I’m Jensen.” And then he waited. The kid didn’t leave, but he refused to make eye contact. Finally he sighed and said “Jared.”
“Jared, nice to meet you. Why don’t we go back to the shelter and we can work something out.”
“You want to fuck me on retainer?”
“No.” Jensen worked to keep the frustration out of his voice. “I thought maybe we could find someplace for you to stay, some other line of work.”
Jared shook his head. “I’m good.”
Jensen stared at him for a few seconds trying to keep in mind what his director had taught him on his first day, and repeated often “don’t spend too much energy on the ones who don’t want the help. There are plenty of people who do.” he knew she was right. Didn’t make it any easier to drive away from a kid who was headed for trouble. He reached into the large box on the passenger seat and held out two strips of condoms and a pamphlet on safe sex to Jared. “At least be safe.”
Jared rolled his eyes, holding up the condoms “these things cut into my profit margin.”
Jensen gripped the steering wheel tightly to prevent himself from dragging Jared back to the shelter by the scruff of his neck. He handed Jared a card. “Call or come by if you need anything, we can help.”
Jared walked away and Jensen drove home. So, maybe today hadn’t been as successful as he’d hoped.
Jensen tossed his backpack onto the couch, microwaved a frozen burrito grabbed a beer and spread out the forms and information sheets that needed to go into the outreach packets. He started to assemble them while he watched some crappy reality television. He’d missed the last few episodes, but he didn’t really care what happened so that all balanced out.
He was so engrossed in getting all 150 packets done he honestly didn’t notice that Misha had emerged from his room 'til he propped his feet up on top of a stack of CDC STD sheets. “Hey!”
“Sorry, I thought you were done working for the day.”
Jensen just glared. He was really tired. Everyone said he worked too much but he knew he didn’t. He worked as much as he needed to in order to get the job done. That’s how work…worked, right?
“Don’t glare at me.” Misha ran a hand through is hair, which was sticking up as if this was the first time he’d gotten out of bed… ever. He was wearing a pair of lounge pants, and nothing else. It was seven at night.
Misha finished Jensen's beer and shrugged, plucking the remote from beside Jensen and beginning his seemingly never ending quest for something better on TV.
Jensen took a similar route home every day, giving him a chance to hand out more condoms and emergency contact cards. He hadn’t seen Jared again. Maybe that was a good thing and Jared had found a better way to earn money. But Jensen knew there were a million or so other reasons that a street kid disappeared and going home to his loving but misguided family was the not the most common reason.
Two or so weeks later it was starting to get cold. Fall was blowing in fast and harsh. The center had started their winter coat drive and changed their menu to reflect the weather. Jensen turned the heat in his car up as he kept the driver’s side window down and drove around each block handing out supplies when he came across Jared. “hey.”
“hey.”
“haven’t seen you around here in a while.”
Jared's arms were crossed against him, in deference to the cold, or in a defensive posture, Jensen wasn’t sure. “you been okay?”
“yeah. Fine.”
“well, the offer still stands, you know, for help, from the center.”
“nah, I’m good.”
“well, okay, then, at least take these and…”
Jared nodded and snatched the strips of condoms out of Jensen's hands. “bye”
Jensen drove home.
In the middle of the next week Jared walked a young boy, couldn’t be more than fourteen, limping, and with a fresh cut on his face, into the center. Jensen came over to help Jared. “what happened?”
Jared shrugged. “he was fine this morning. You said you could help.”
“don’t need any fucking help.” The kids mumbled through a swollen lip and bloody at the corner of his mouth and an eye that would be swollen completely shut by nightfall.
“yeah, you’re doin’ so well on your own.” Jared interjected, walking the kid over to one of the chairs that lined the room and sitting him down. “this is Jensen. He’ll help.”
Jared was gone before Jensen could turn to retrieve the first aid kit. He wanted to say something but Jared didn’t want his help and this kid clearly needed it.
It took him three days to straighten the whole thing out. Get the kid, Calvin, back to his grandmother’s house, arrange some family counseling through city social services, and clear his desk of the whole mess. He drove by Jared's usual spot on the way home. Jared wasn’t there.
He was there the next day though. “Calvin went home. Thank you for your help. He needed it.”
“no shit.” Jared's hands were shoved deep in his pockets and his voice quaked just a little. He was cold.
“Car’s heated. Have a seat for a minute. I promise I won’t try and convert you or anything.”
Jared seemed to be considering it and then shook his head. “I’m not that cold.”
Jensen nodded. “yeah, it hasn’t really gotten cold yet. But here, I’ve got sandwiches and I’m just gonna have to throw them out if I don’t find someone to take a couple” he held out two ham and cheese sandwiches wrapped in wax paper. Jared grabbed them fast, as if the offer might be rescinded. “yeah, I guess no one ever got converted by a sandwich.”
Jensen nodded and finished his slow, circuitous route home wondering how long he could hand sandwiches and condoms to kids that were probably not gonna make it past twenty-one and wondering why he bothered at all.
He spent the night writing notes he hadn’t had the time to write that day because Betsy’s husband found out where she was staying. He’d burst in threatening and yelling. He broke a chair, a crib and Betsy’s heart before the police escorted him out of the building. Thankfully that fell under Danneel's jurisdiction and it was her Serious Incident Report to complete and not his. He just had to track down another crib. They were already short on them.
He stared at the name at the top of the next note. Jamar Latimer. Jamar… Jensen thought. He knew he’d been staying in the men’s shelter for almost a week. He knew he’d eaten breakfast with him yesterday, but today… had he even spoken to Jamar today? Had he even seen him? He was on the list so clearly he had been there but Jensen had no idea how to write a note on a man he didn’t know, had shared a table with once and had done nothing for. He had done Jamar’s intake but for the life of him couldn’t remember a single goal they’d set, or how he’d ended up at the shelter in the first place.
He grabbed another beer and pushed the pages aside with immaculate timing. Misha came home just as the pages were fluttering to the other side of the couch. “problem?”
Jensen glared at Misha who took his beer and sat back on the part of the sofa not covered in client notes. “You know, your glare resembles that of a pouting four year old faced with a plate of broccoli.”
Jensen gave him the finger.
“ahh, clever.”
They sat in silence for a while, and Jensen knew he had to leave or talk. Misha could withstand silence for days, weeks even. “I don’t even know my fucking clients.”
“do you know the ones who aren’t sex workers?”
“funny.”
“Jensen, you can’t know all of them.”
“the ones sleeping there… I could bother to know a thing or two about them.”
“but you don’t sleep there. So what, you can’t remember the name of some guy who checks in at four thirty, which is, I might add, right before you’re supposed to be leaving for the day, and checks out after breakfast, which is over about when you’re supposed to be coming in. You work too many hours, and maybe it’s taking its toll on all that individualized customer service you like to provide.”
“or maybe I just suck at this job because I…”
Misha was staring at him now, waiting.
“never mind.”
“okay, but you love this job. You turned down far more lucrative offers after grad school to take a job on the front lines. So if that’s changed… well, we could use a new microwave, so I’d be psyched if you wanted to go the lucrative route.”
Jensen slammed his bedroom door and tried not to think about it, or about the fact that he was jerking off because his low-paying front-line job left him zero time for something even resembling a social life, let alone time to actually develop a relationship. Although at this rate, a random one night stand might be what he needed. He pictured the perfect guy in his head, came, and then fell asleep feeling guilty and not at all satisfied.
Over a week later he was helping to serve dinner when Samantha came in. She was what they kindly called a “frequent flyer.” She was a tiny thing, no more than five foot two, couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, in love with an asshole three times her weight and a good foot taller than she was. He got angry and violent, she got hurt and then used the center as safe place to heal before she went back to him. When Jensen had first met her, a couple of years ago he’d tried, hard, to find her someplace else to go. He’d connected her with a job coach and a woman who was looking for a roommate, she could have escaped this part of her life, but she chose not to. She always chose not to. Jensen nodded to her as she filled her tray.
“Back again.”
“You know how it goes.” She had the decency to look slightly embarrassed.
“I guess I do.” he dumped some cauliflower on her plate and watched as she walked with a slight limp to the far table. Once all the meals were served he took his own tray and joined her. Willing to listen, or try again, or just do something today that might feel like he was more than a glorified custodian.
“So, how’ve you been?”
She smiled and it looked real. “good, I’ve been good. I was working for awhile, but Anton called about a hundred times a day, so that didn’t last long.”
Jensen nodded and did even consider giving her some more pointless and sage advice.
“then I got some good news.”
Jensen raised his eyebrows, waiting.
“I’m gonna have a baby.”
Jensen almost choked on his rice. How, in her situation, is that good news? He plastered on a fake smile. “Congratulations. We’ve got some parenting classes, you should…” fuck, she was crying.
“hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
The crying got worse and he ignored her food, putting an arm around her and leading her back to his office for some privacy.
“Mr. Jensen…”
Jensen waited sitting next to her rather than across the desk from her. His office door was open, standard policy when he was alone with anyone. Danneel ducked her head in, surveyed the situation and then pointed back out to the dining room, indicating where he could find her if he needed her. He moved a box of tissues closer to Samantha. She took one, wiped her eyes and started shredding it in her hands.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“well, what do you want to do?” Jensen had a bunch of pamphlets with options from termination to adoption to witness protection like programs in order for the mother and child to leave the abuser. he wasn’t so soul dead yet that he was ready to just shove pamphlets at her. Instead he waited.
“I gotta have it. I’m already five months along.”
Jensen tried to wrap his brain around that. She wasn’t showing… at all. Tight jeans, a t-shirt and sweater and not a single sign that she was more than halfway through her pregnancy.
Samantha looked up at Jensen. “he’s getting worse, and I’m worried for the baby.”
“Have you been to a doctor. Are you taking prenatal vitamins? Are you receiving WIC?” he was asking pointless questions because the big one… “is he gonna beat you so badly you miscarry or die?” just couldn’t make it past his lips. “we can get you…”
“…away from him. I know, you all think that’s what’s best.”
“I just think you’d be happier if you felt safe.”
She shrugged. “I love him.”
He shrugged. “okay, so, are you okay now, physically?”
“kinda, I think he messed up my arm.”
She had a purse hanging off of her shoulder, it was large and when she used her other hand to remove it Jensen saw the odd angle. he’d dislocated her shoulder.
“we’re gonna take you to the hospital, okay. get you and the baby checked out and then we’ll take it from there.”
“you’re always so calm. Why can’t other men be so calm in a crisis.”
Jensen didn’t answer. He knew why he was calm. He just couldn’t find it in himself to care like that anymore.
They were heading back out to the dining room where a staff member would accompany Samantha to the ER when they heard a loud bellow followed by a clattering that Jensen recognized as chairs being tossed across the linoleum floor. He pushed Samantha behind him and walked forward in time to see… Jared? Jared body checked the guy and had him pinned to the ground. “calm the fuck down.”
“get off me before I kill you.”
Jensen wasn’t sure exactly how Jared's long but narrow frame was keeping Samantha’s boyfriend down that effectively but it was. Jamal was struggling, but couldn’t quite get free. He got an arm loose and managed to make contact with Jared's face, but just as quickly Jared had him pinned again, Straddling Jamal’s wider body with his own.
Mark, a volunteer staff member took Samantha out through the back to get her to the hospital. Jensen stepped forward and was about to assist Jared when the police arrived. They cuffed Jamal and pushed him into the back of the car. Two other officers, both familiar with the center, stayed to take statements from those willing to give them, which consisted mostly of staff. Not a lot of clients really wanted their name on any type of police report.
Jensen grabbed the first aid kit and some ice pushing Jared into a seat while he was trying to slip out the front door.
“uh uh, park it.”
“just a split lip, I’m fine.”
“yeah, let me get a look at that before you head off into the night.”
“you make it sound so theatrical.”
“well, you swooped in to save the day, so…”
“I didn’t swoop in, I saw him three blocks away, I followed ‘cause he looked like he was gonna hurt someone.”
Jensen pressed the ice pack against Jared's lip, effectively shutting him up. “you know, most people would move in the opposite direction of someone his size looking to make some noise.”
Jared shrugged. he tried to talk but all that came out was a muffled sound through the ice pack.
“you could have gotten hurt.”
Jared shrugged again and mumbled something. Jensen removed the ice pack. “what?”
“didn’t pick this job for it’s safety.”
“so what, you’re out there selling your ass to be closer to damsels in distress?”
“haven’t you ever heard of the whore with the heart of gold?”
Jensen laughed. “yeah, in fictional accounts of whores.”
Jared took the ice pack out of Jensen's hand. “I may be a whore, but it doesn’t make me a bad person.” He walked out, taking the ice pack with him.
Jensen ran the ten feet across the room and stopped Jared. “hey I didn’t… I mean… we serve hot meals here, three times a day. He grabbed a schedule off the cork board by the front door. “free food. Better than the sandwiches in my car, right?”
Jared put the ice back on his lip and walked off. he didn’t drop the meal schedule though… so there was that.
Jared started to come in for breakfast after that. Not every day, not on any kind of schedule but still, he came in, ate like someone was going to snatch the food from him before he finished and then left without saying a word to anyone. Jensen attempted, twice to sit next to him but Jared just slid down the table and away from him. Jensen tried to make contact with the other clients instead. Maybe he could write a better note if he spoke to them rather than just observed. He didn’t quite remember when he’d stopped really talking to them but he realized that he had, and it wasn’t good for the center or for the clients.
It was mid afternoon, just after the lunch rush. Usually a quiet time at the center. The young kids all down for naps, the school aged kids still in school, crisis happened in the early morning, or late at night, not usually in the middle of the day. This was a time for restocking shelves, fundraising and paperwork. He just couldn’t face any of it. Instead he sat in Danneel's office while she convinced a local retailer to donate three cribs and a bunch of onesies to the mother and infant program. When she was done and had texted Teresa to take the van and pick them up before he changed his mind she closed her door put her hair back in a pony tail and stared at Jensen. “What is up with you?”
“Nothing I’m just…”
“Burning yourself out.”
“No, I think I did that already.”
Danneel slumped. “You’re quitting?”
“What? No? Who said that? I’m not quitting.”
“But you’re burnt out.”
“I just… Samantha, she’s…”
“Making bad choices, Jensen, she’s a human, and she’s making really bad choices. You can’t take that personally.”
“I don’t, I don’t take any of it personally, that’s the problem.”
“The new kid.”
“What new kid.”
“The street kid. You’re taking him pretty personally.”
“What are you insinuating?”
Danneel sat back, hands up, shaking her head. “I’m not insinuating a damn thing, but you’re trying with him. The way you used to try with everyone. What’s up with that?”
“He’s still got potential. He’s… everyone one here is so steeped in their miserable situation all we’re doing is managing their comfort level.”
“Is that really what you think, that this is all bullshit. We’re nothing but a glorified soup kitchen?”
Jensen thought about it; really thought. “No. I know we’re not. I think I am. I think I’m just… I don’t believe I can help people affect a real change in their life. I’m spinning my wheels and handing out pamphlets and condoms.”
“What would make you feel better?”
“A single success story.”
Danneel laughed. “You want someone to become the CEO of a major corporation and start giving back to those who helped her get there? Jensen. We have success stories here every day. Samantha is in the hospital until the baby’s born, at which point she comes back here for parenting lessons and job training. Her boyfriend spent ten days in jail. How is that not success?”
“He’s out.”
“Yes, bad people will continue to exist. Did you know Betsy got a job at a day care center so she can have her kid with her all the time? She’s talking to one of the women there about possibly rooming with her. Do you remember Betsy when she came in? That’s success. Oh, and Calvin, he’s slept here for the past five nights, and he doesn’t seem to be sick or hurt. So maybe he’s off the streets, maybe he’s not pedaling his ass for cash. That’s success.”
“I guess.”
“Jensen. There’s success in this building, in this neighborhood every day, and you used to see that. You used to be that. You’ve got your supervision time in; you know Celia will sign off on it. If you want to go be a Licensed Professional Counselor, go, hang a shingle and do it. You’ll be great. You’re one of my best friends and this place will miss you like crazy but don’t be here if you don’t want to, that’s not success.
Jensen left Danneel's office feeling less sure than he had when he’d walked in. Betsy had weighed every word she’d said when she’d first gotten here, a year on the streets, seven months of it pregnant and now she had a job paying minimum wage, so… success. He sat at his desk shifting through his paperwork, filling it out mindlessly; it wasn’t hard when every day felt pretty much the same. He logged out and headed home, still circling the blocks and handing out condoms and lube packets to anyone who would take them.
It had gotten even colder. Jared was wearing a sweatshirt over his t-shirt and Jensen could still see he was shivering. He made a motion with his head. “Get in, just to warm up.” Jensen took his hands off the wheel to show his sincerity.
Jared seemed to think about it and finally walked around the car climbing into the front seat. Jensen was moving the box of supplies to the back as Jared pulled the door closed. “That must be hard to explain on a date.”
“I just let them think I’m really easy. It works surprisingly well with men. I suppose if I were straight it would take more explanation.”
Jared looked surprised for a second. “You’re not straight?”
“Nope. Why, does that make you feel less safe in the car with me?”
Jared seemed to be biting back a half smile. “I think I could probably take you if I had to. I was just surprised they let you work at a place like that with, you know…”
“My big fat gayness?”
“Well, yeah.”
“You know it’s not a disease right?”
“That’s not what that nasty little pamphlet you handed me said.”
“Hey, that was about unsafe sex, not about being gay.”
Jared shrugged. “Tomato, tomahto.”
“Not really, no. I mean, I’m assuming you’re gay, but are you… just gay for pay?”
“Hard to tell. Why are we talking about this?”
“Because you brought it up and I’m a nosy bastard.”
“You really are, you know that, right.”
“I just said it. Have you ever had sex with a girl?”
“Once, but… nothing to write home about.”
“And if you were to write home, where would that be?”
Jared was out of the car and down the alley almost before Jensen realized what was happening.
“Well fuck” Jensen drove home and stared unseeingly at the television until it didn’t seem completely pathetic to go to bed.
He woke up somewhere around three and considered trying to go back to sleep but decided to just get the day started instead.
The sun wasn’t out yet and the streets were a little more crowded than at six when he usually hit the corners. It was cold, but most people he saw weren’t exactly bundled up. He stopped at the alley Jared had bolted down but it was deserted. Three streets over Jared was shoving money into his pocket and getting into some guy’s car. He didn’t honk, but he didn’t move his car either. He watched as Jared's head disappeared below the rear windshield, occasionally bobbing into view. Less than ten minutes later Jared got out of the car and was leaning against a wall again, the car drove off and Jensen wondered who the fuck drove around looking for a blowjob at four in the morning.
He was deeper in thought than he’d realized when someone banged on the window. “What the fuck are you watching, you perv.”
Jensen recognized him. He’d given him pamphlets and Trojans before but never gotten his name. He wasn’t a big one for talk and had never seemed open to a frank discussion about the dangers of his chosen profession. The guy was banging harder and Jensen couldn’t drive away without possibly running over this guy’s foot. He just sat, numb, wondering if insurance covered some psychotic-should-be-client battering in your driver’s side window. The banging stopped and Jared was looking at him. Then he knocked once and came around to the passenger side. Jensen let him in. He started to move the car but Jared put his hand on the gearshift. “ If we drive out of sight they’re going to assume it’s so I can blow you, or so you can fuck me”.
Jensen put the car back in park.
“What are you doing here?”
“Heading in to work.”
“At four in the morning.”
“You were working.”
“Jensen, I’m a hooker. I have different hours than you do.”
“Yeah.”
“What.”
“I forget sometimes.”
“Forget what?”
“What it is you guys do. How do you do that, just… turn off the part that feels something?”
“Same way you do I guess.”
“I don’t…”
Jared raised an eyebrow. “You care, no doubt, but you don’t… I don’t know… sometimes you’re going through the motions. I get it. your job is probably hard too, I guess.”
“This from a kid who sells his body for money.”
“Hey, I’m not a kid, I’m legal, which, I know, is not always a selling point but I’m my own man, what I do, it’s up to me, not some power tripping social worker, or foster parent or older sibling. It’s my call. Remember that.”
“Jesus.”
“What?”
“Nothing really. I forgot I could still be surprised.”
“Yeah well, my story isn’t exactly rare.”
“No, no it isn’t.”
“You okay?”
“I have no fucking idea.”
Jared laughed. “Welcome to the rest of the world. Now why don’t you go back to your sunny happy world at the center and make every day a success!” It was Jensen's turn to laugh. Jared got out of the car and Jensen drove to the Sunshine Center, the same way he had for over two years.
Cont.