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He's in the green room early, hiding away from the unusual bustle in the shared rooms and the altercation in the bar. It's been one of those days, and the quiet almost seems to wash over him. This is one of the few rooms in the building with a window, and through it he can see two birds making a nest in some sort of bush. Sparrows, or jays; it's been a while since he's been outside, or had a chance to look, so he's still looking, head tilted and eyes narrowed, when two men tumble inside, the door slamming into the wall.
"Do we have to do this, Jay?" one of them says, and the other closes the door, much more quietly than he'd opened it. "We could have gone back to your house."
"But you don't want anyone to know, do you? How much you love me taking you, how you beg and mewl when I work you open and you're almost ready to come but not quite. Not good for your image with the ladies, you know." Jay is already shirtless when he looks, hidden behind the curtains. "You never want anyone to see you like that."
"It's private," he hears, and then muffled whines. Jay must have used the gag.
"It matches your eyes," Jay says.
He tunes Jay out after a bit more unoriginal commentary. He's heard it all before, and turns out Jay knew what he was talking about anyway - before long Jay's voice alternates with grunts and moans. The visual is spectacular enough without the description; Jay is ripped (steroids, he's seen enough to be able to tell) and the man underneath him is barely small enough for a difference to be noticeable. Jay's even made use of the cuffs; got him spread out on the bed, hands at his waist and legs spread apart.
"So beautiful, Jen; nothing wrong with this. Wanna share you with the world." Jay looks at him, through the curtain, and Jen's eyes follow. He smiles and makes the curtains ripple just enough that Jen's eyes widen and he starts to struggle against the bindings, working himself on Jay's fingers at the same time, probably without even realising. This is the part he likes about these kinds of client, the reason he takes them; it's reassuring to see someone else torn from their sense of security, pulled away from everything they trusted and into a new kind of scene.
"You do that, Jen, show how good you can be for me and my friend, it'll feel so good." He rolls his eyes in one last private gesture before slipping out from behind the curtain and coming up behind Jay. He has the irrational thought of gagging Jay and taking both of them on, but he learned the hard way about obeying the clients, and Jen's eyes seem to find those marks on his stomach, if the way he struggles even more is any kind of sign. He doesn't say anything; he just lets Jay keep talking nonsense as he traces the gag, one finger sliding along Jen's cheek and over his lip. "Want his mouth?" Jay says, but he shakes his head. Jen's turned his face away; it wouldn't be any good, and he's noticed Jay looking at him too. That wasn't the plan, either, but he wouldn't say no.
He doesn't say no, not when Jay has him pull Jen over his lap and slide the fake dong into place in Jen's ass, or when Jay slides a belt up over Jen's legs and fastens it in place. "I'll deal with you at home, Jen," Jay says. "Watch now." And, Jen does, kneeling in place on the floor as if some training kept him there, still, hands cinched at the small of his back and head up. He loses track after that; he doesn't know if Jen looked away when Jay pulled his jeans down to his knees and bent him over the bed until he fell forward, trapped under the weight of Jay's broad chest. Jay doesn't use him; he can feel Jay's cock moving in the crack, and then between his legs, and he pushes down, but Jay slaps him, once, hard enough to mark over the old bruises, and he goes still, waits for Jay to be done. He thinks he hears Jen begin to cry, and when Jay finally shudders and pulls away, he lifts himself up enough to see. Jen is dry-eyed, back straight with pride, as if his posture was the only thing keeping him from breaking.
"I'll sort out the extra at the desk," Jay says as he does up his jeans, "while you take care of him."
He waits until Jay is gone before crawling over to Jen. He rips the gag out of Jen's mouth first, without even unfastening it, but Jen doesn't speak.
"I won't touch you more than I have to," he says, and he hits the quick release on the bar and connectors. Jen peels the cuffs off himself, leaving them on the ground.
"Ready?" Jay says from the door, like an order. Jen stands and walks away, through the door without looking back.
He cleans the room well enough, rips the sheets off the bed and takes them down to the laundry room without being reminded. He could do with a shower before the evening hustle, a hot one that scalds and burns the ghosts of Jay's hands away.