"Oh FUCK no! What the fuck is this shit? Yo, I cannot wear this, man." Jesse shoved the box back into Mike's hands and stepped back, hands in front of himself protectively, as if he thought the contents might attack him.
Mike sighed in a way that indicated at once how very boring all of this was, and also how he should probably be out killing some guy with nothing but a paper clip, or whatever Mike did in his spare time, Jesse didn't know. "Listen kid, tough shit and all, but this is what you're wearing. You need to blend. What's wrong with it, anyway?"
"What's wrong with it? What's WRONG with it? Where's the rest of it? Let's start with that."
Mike shrugged, he literally could not care less about this, could he? "This is what they wear. Now stop whining, and put it on. We have to go, or we'll miss the guy."
Jesse stood with his eyes wide and his mouth agape, trying to think of some way out of this. Surely Mike could see that this just wasn't something he could do?
"Yo, why's it got to be me? Why can't anyone else do it?" They were always putting him in these situations. Gus ran a huge operation, surely he had other guys for these insanely dangerous undercover missions? Jesse should at least get to sit one out once in a while.
And it should be this one. The one with the... pants.
At this, Mike almost managed to look amused. "Well, can you think of anyone else who could do this convincingly? Much less fit into these?" He motioned to the offending objects. "What? You need some motivation? How about, put it on or I'll kill you, and bury you in the desert where no one will find you." Jesse could tell that Mike was joking, in a way, but coming from him even a joke threat was terrifying.
Slowly he took the box from Mike and headed upstairs to change, looking absolutely miserable the whole way.
"Oh my GOD," Jesse moaned, accidentally catching his reflection in the mirror. This was nuts. He could NOT go out in public dressed like this. Hell, he didn't feel comfortable like this all alone in his bedroom.
Well, looks aside, it would be hard for anyone to be comfortable in pants this tight. How was he even supposed to move in these things? What if he had to run somewhere? Not for the first time that evening he thought, This is fucking ridiculous.
The outfit was bad enough: black leather pants so tight he couldn't even wear underwear under them, that felt weird, and a shirt that he'd normally wear as the first of 5 layers, not by itself. The worst part, though, was definitely this next one.
Jesse gave a put-upon sigh, and lifted the black kohl eyeliner to his face. God, I have no fucking idea what I'm DOING here. Just wanting to get it over with, and before Mike decided to come up here and give him a little more deadly "motivation," he roughly drew the inky blackness around the edges of his eyes, leaning back slightly to consider himself. It looked too... liney though, so he smudged it a little with one finger. That looked a LITTLE better, in a very fucking relative way, because actually he looked like the biggest homo in the universe.
OK, last thing. Let's get this nightmare over with. He squeezed some of the gel into his hands, and rubbed them together. He pushed it uncertainly through his hair and pulled up and out and mussed it all around. It looked like it did when he first woke up, so he didn't really get what the point was.
Finished, he stepped back to see what the full effect was. Yeah, that looked... yeah no.
Quickly, he walked back down the stairs into the living room, where Mike was waiting. "Let's just go." Jesse said, before Mike had a chance to comment. With that, Jesse walked passed him towards the door, his eyes glued to the floor.
Mike dropped him off a few blocks from the club, so they wouldn't be seen arriving together. This gave Jesse the opportunity to think about the plan, what Mike had told him on the way over, and how INCREDIBLY ANNOYING walking in these tight ass pants was. Jesus.
He was supposed to find some guy, some high-up guy who owned this club or something. I guess some of his guys had stolen some of our guys' crystal? Or something? Jesse wasn't totally clear on what had gone down, but whatever it was, Gus wanted to talk to this guy. And this guy did not want to talk to Gus.
So, Jesse had to get the guy alone, and then Mike and the other guys would swoop in and... cart him away or something. They couldn't just take him out in the open, Mike had explained, because he was always surrounded by guards. It would be a bloodbath.
Jesse didn't know why they couldn't just wait until he was in a less crowded area, but he'd apparently used up his question-allowance with the last question, because Mike just ignored him when he asked.
He was getting close to what he assumed was a gay fetish club, based on the clothes he had to wear. He could see it up ahead, and he could hear it too. The music was blaring.
The bouncer gave him a quick look and waved him in. Jesse stepped in and looked around. Mike had said the guy might not be there yet, but Jesse scanned the crowd of gyrating bodies anyway, looking for the face Mike had showed him to look for.
Many of the guys were indeed dressed similarly to Jesse, but maybe a little more punk-rockish. He wished Mike had given him some fucking idea what he was supposed to be aiming for, shit.
Jesse squeezed across the dance floor towards the bar. He didn't think he'd ever needed a drink this badly in his LIFE.
He noticed some chicks' eyes, and a few guys, following his movements. At first he was worried. Did they know he wasn't supposed to be there? Could they be working for the owner? But on second thought, they weren't really looking at him like that. They were looking at him more like... like they were dying of thirst and Jesse was a big glass of water. Or like he himself and once looked at meth. Like they desperately wanted him inside of them.
Jesse wasn't used to being eyed like this. It made him acutely uncomfortable. He felt exposed; he was showing way too much skin, and these pants left nothing to the imagination. More than that though, he felt smaller. His normal clothes didn't just cover him up, they made him feel bigger. Jesse wasn't the biggest guy, OK? It was just a fact, and he didn't like having highlighted by this tiny gay biker outfit.
Jesse ducked his head, and tried to get out of the crowd without rubbing up against too many people.
When he finally reached the bar he flagged down the bartender, "Hey! Uh, shot of tequila and a beer." When it was put in front of him, he downed the shot, and took a long drag from the bottle before setting it down. The slow burn of tequila down his throat made him feel a little better about this whole crappy situation. So what if he looked like a Village People reject? That hot piece over there seemed to like it. Because he was feeling cocky, he gave her a little wink before turning back to his beer.
OK, now if this guy would just show up, already, we'd be getting somewhere.
It's been HOURS. Probably. Yes, almost certainly. Jesse's not sure.
He's lost count of how many shots of tequila he's had, but it was a lot. At first it was just a few, for courage, but then other people started buying them for him. And, well, Jesse wasn't one to say no to free booze. Not to mention, it was a new experience to have hot women buying HIM drinks to try and get into HIS pants. It was awesome, actually, he wasn't sure what women were always complaining about.
Like right now, here he was dancing with this hot little thing, and he didn't have to wonder if it was OK to put his hands on his ass or if she'd freak out if he kissed her. She was griding right up against him, turning her head over her shoulder to smile cheekily at him. Alright. This assignment wasn't too bad after all. Maybe he'd at least get some pussy out of it.
He was just about to lean down and whisper something dirty in her ear, when something caught his eye. There in the corner of the room was the guy he was looking for. He couldn't have been there long, Jesse was pretty sure. Fuck, of COURSE he'd show up right when Jesse was about to get laid.
Yelling something to dancing girl about having to go, he made his way over to the guy.
His name was Trent something, Jesse could barely remember his own last name at this point, let alone this guy's. He was taller than Jesse, with dark hair, older than him, but not by much. He was wearing much more comfortable looking jeans, and a red button down. Jesse thought fleetingly that he was pretty handsome, actually.
Thoughts like this, about other men, occasionally went through Jesse's mind after he'd reached a certain level of intoxication. He tried not to think about it too hard.
Jesse walked up to the guy, and leaned against the wall next to him, trying to be casual. He bobbed his head along to the loud techno music, and after a few moments turned to look at Trent. He gave him a little half smile, "Hey, I heard you were the guy to see about maybe having a good time?" He gave a little wink for good measure, just so that Trent would know he was talking about crystal.
Trent looked him up and down and smiled slyly at him, "I haven't seen you here before," he shouted over the music. The DJ must have turned it up, because he had to lean down to Jesse's ear so he could hear him.
Shit, of course this guy was suspicious of him, asking for crystal out of nowhere.
"Oh, yeah man, I kind of just moved here, so. I don't really know anyone." That was good! That would explain why he was asking a stranger for crystal instead of buying it from someone he knew. Jesse mentally patted himself on the back.
Trent bent down to answer, though this time it seemed like he leaned in a little closer to Jesse's ear than necessary. "So, do you want to go somewhere, and get to know each other a little better? I'm actually the owner. I have a place upstairs." As he spoke, his breath hit Jesse's ear in a way that was definitely not unpleasant. It raised goosebumps on his neck.
Awesome! thought Jesse, This was so much easier than I thought it was going to be. "Yeah, lead the way," Jesse said aloud.
Trent smiled in an almost predatory way, and for a moment Jesse was worried he was being trapped. But he unsteadily followed Trent up the stairs anyway. Even if this guy was onto him, Mike and a bunch of his guys were outside, and the second they got the signal they'd be all over the place. Jesse decided if anyone had something to worry about, it was Trent, not him.
At the top of the stairs, Trent turned a corner, and fished a key out of his pocket. He turned the lock, and as he was opening the door he looked back at Jesse and gave him a wink. Jesse thought that was kind of weird. They didn't need to be hush-hush about the whole meth thing since they were alone, but he didn't have long to think about that. As he stepped into the room something completely unexpected happened.
Trent pushed him up against the door, with one hand to his chest. For a split second, Jesse was sure he was about to stab him or shoot him or punch him, but he did something even worse. Trent leaned in close and kissed him. Right on the mouth.
Jesse was so shocked he didn't do anything. He felt paralyzed. He felt Trent's lips against his own, moving insistently, trying to get him to reciprocate, but Jesse was frozen. He knew he should push Trent off of him, but he just couldn't. It felt so nice to be kissed like this, really. And before he could consider the implications or the thousand reasons not to, Jesse was kissing him back. Maybe it was the fact that half a second ago he thought this guy might kill him, or all the tequila he'd had, or the fact that he was still kind of horny from his interrupted dance with hot grindy girl, but he started kissing Trent back. And when his tongue swiped against Jesse's lips they parted, letting him explore his mouth.
Trent was kissing him hard, maddeningly, like he was trying to win a fight, but there was still a bit of distance between them. He had his hands on either side of Jesse's face, holding him to his mouth, but the rest of his body was a step back.
Jesse's mind finally had a second to catch up to his libido, and he pushed Trent away a bit, but not forcefully, just enough to get him to stop, "What are you doing, yo? Why did you... kiss me?"
Trent laughed a bit, but quickly realized Jesse wasn't joking. "Uh, I thought this is what you wanted. I mean you, uh, asked me if I could give you a good time, for christ's sake."
Jesse's cheeks were flushed a little, probably just from the embarrassment and not at all from arousal. "Oh, I was actually thinking more of a, um, druggy good time."
"Ohhh, OK, yeah. I've got some stuff." Then Trent paused, knitting his eyebrows together, "But if you weren't hitting on me, why did you kiss me back?" Jesse was definitely turning red now. He didn't say anything. Trent smirked knowingly.
"Let's talk business later, I think." Trent leaned in close to Jesse's ear, like he had in the club, but this time it was quiet in the room, "For now, let's focus on making you ruin those pants." And as he said the final word, he brought his teeth down on Jesse's ear. Jesse let out what could unkindly be called a yelp at this, but he also felt a rush of heat to his groin.
Trent kissed him hard on the mouth again, and ran his fingers through Jesse's hair, making it stand on end. He brought one of his hands down to crawl under Jesse's flimsy shirt, and it slowly circled his nipple before pinching it and rolling it between his fingers. Jesse moaned openly into Trent's mouth.
Trent seemed encouraged by this, as he stepped forward until his body was flush with Jesse's and rolled their hips together.
Jesse noted Trent's length pressed up against him, and his cock hardened even further. He couldn't believe this was even happening. This was wrong in so many ways. He should be grossed out by another man's hard cock, not turned on by it. But he very clearly was turned on by it. These pants left nothing at all to the imagination. And they definitely weren't made with boner room in mind, either, shit.
Trent reached a hand down to stroke Jesse through his pants, and Jesse made a strangled noise. Trent just grinned maniacally at him and pushed harder. Jesse bit down on his bottom lip to try and keep from saying something embarrassing.
"Oh, FUCK that's good!" Well, so much for that. "Here, let me just," and Jesse reached down, intending to unzip his pants and free his dick, thank you very much, but Trent stopped him.
"No," he practically growled, a sound which went right to Jesse's trapped dick. "I told you. I want you to absolutely ruin these pants. They stay ON."
Jesse couldn't believe this shit. How was he supposed to cum in these pants when they were already so tight he could barely feel his balls? Normally he'd complain, but all of the blood in his body seemed to be in his dick not his brain, so he settled for a pained whine and a panicked look.
Trent just gave him another smirk, "Don't worry. I'll make sure you like it." And with that he dropped to his knees in front of Jesse and started mouthing his dick through his pants like a fucking porn star or something.
The leather was stretched so tightly that Jesse could feel everything. Trent swiped his tongue slowly up Jesse's length, and Jesse moaned, low in his throat. Then Trent sucked on the head and lightly teased it with his teeth. Jesse's eyes rolled in his head. He was so turned on his knees almost buckled.
Trent took his time, working up and down, humming lightly against the glans, stroking Jesse's balls to great effect, all through the tight black leather of his pants. Soon Jesse was practically begging for Trent to let him come. He was begging for all sorts of things, actually: for Trent to take Jesse's cock down his throat, for Trent to come on his face, for Trent to bend him over the table and fuck him hard.
Jesse had his hands tightly threaded in Trent's brown hair when his begging just became a long stream of "Please, please, PLEASE!" with a few incomprehensible yells and moans thrown in for good measure.
Then Jesse dug his fingernails into Trent's scalp. His cock twitched, and he came in his pants so hard he almost passed out. He had to slump against the wall.
Jesse's dick was still pulsing in his pants when the door slammed open, and in came Mike and about 10 more of Gus' men. Trent looked horrified by Mike's sudden appearance in his bedroom. He looked like he was trying to think of some way to escape certain death.
Mike took a look at him and said, "Gus needs to have a talk with you, that's all. Just come with us and nothing will happen to you." And with that a few of the guys led him away.
Jesse was still slumped on the floor trying to hide the large wet spot on the front of his pants. Mike took a look at him and raised an eyebrow, "We saw you come up here with him, but you never gave us the signal. We thought maybe something had happened to you."
"No!" Jesse squeaked, a little too insistently, "I was just, uh, trying to get him to, uh, tell me where the meth was?"
"Uh, huh." Mike said, in his most unconvinced voice. "Whatever, kid, I don't care, but we're trying to do a job here, right? In the future, could you try to keep your dick in your pants?"
Jesse was bright red once again, but he could answer completely truthfully, "I did."