Nate meets Jesse for the First Time

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This story brings together the characters of Nate and Jesse into a combined timeline, several months after Will and Jesse's breakup.

Editor's Note: Story contains half brother incest content.

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Nate sat on a stool in Mala Suerte, his head resting on his hand. He twisted his drink with his thumb and middle finger and sighed.

Why are you here?

Absolutely not because he was hoping to see Rene. Or Alec. Although, he knew Alec would never come back here again. And Rene... Rene hadn't spoken to him in nearly a year.

He sighed again.

Someone sat down next to him. A kid, early twenties, with dark hair that brushed his shoulders. He was slim, dressed in biker chic, wearing eyeliner that offset his dark hair, leather bracelets loose around his right wrist.

There was something androgynous about him. He had a pretty, almost feminine face; although the way he moved was all male. He was delicious. Nate was instantly alert, and awake down below.

"Can I get a JD and Coke?" the kid asked the bartender.

Nate pushed his drink back on the bar and pushed his hands into his hair in a universal gesture of despair.

He could feel the kid dart him a look as the bartender squirted Coke into a short glass.

The kid paid for his drink and took a sip. He glanced at Nate again.

Nate massaged his temple with one hand and then took up his drink with another sigh, swallowing half of it down.

"Tough night?" the kid asked.

Nate glanced at him. "Oh, hey mate. Sorry, in my own world."

He put his head in his hands again.

The kid's brown eyes were on him, taking him in; the suit, the short, dark hair cut long at the front. His obvious misery. At twenty-seven, he was likely only a few years older than the kid, but he could see from the boy's eyes that he was a lifetime ahead of him in experience.

"You want company?" the kid asked. "It's just, I'm only in London for the weekend—"

Nate's heart leapt. Perfect. Playing it cool. Didn't want to be seen to be too eager. He knew all eyes in the bar were on them right now. Wanted the regulars to see the kid pursue him.

"Sorry, I wouldn't be good company right now."

He swung around on his bar stool and put his back to the bar, taking another swallow of bourbon. His voice was low, filled with melancholy. "Just broke up."

The kid nodded in sympathy and said quietly, "Yeah. Me too. Well, sort of. Again. It's complicated."

Nate shot him a sidelong glance. When was it ever not.

He nodded at the kid. "I'm Nate."

The kid smiled at him, and the sweetness in it made Nate's pulse thud in his throat.

"Jesse," he said.

'Jesse.' Say it soft and it's alllmost like my cock's in his mouth, thought Nate.

He drained his glass and set it back on the bar behind him. Without asking, the bartender refilled it.

"And what are you doing in London?" Nate asked. His drink refreshed, he took another sip.

The kid watched this, and Nate could see he was quietly impressed.

"Visiting my dad." He laughed. "Actually, I came to ask him if I could borrow some money."

Nate frowned. "What do you need money for?"

Jesse sipped his drink. "I just graduated. Journalism. And I have an idea for an article that I think'll get me started. Vice—you heard of Vice?"

Nate had heard of Vice.

"They put out a call for someone who could get close to this band. I don't know, I was thinking... if I could get myself to the US..."

Nate frowned again. Took a swallow of his drink.

"The trip alone will cost you over three thousand pounds, won't it? How much does this gig pay?"

Jesse shrugged. "I just need to get established."

Nate wished he had that kind of naivety. "And your dad—is he likely to lend you this money?"

Jesse laughed down into his drink. "No. But my mum doesn't have it, and the banks won't let me borrow it. He's my last shot."

Nate considered the kid in front of him. A con artist? Nate thought he'd recognise a con if he saw one. If the kid was gaming him, Nate got no sense of it. A rentboy, looking for cash for a fuck? Nate didn't think so. As much as the kid was a hot little piece, he put off a clean-cut vibe that no rentboy Nate had met to date could manage.

"What about you?" asked Jesse. "You work in London?"

"Unfortunately, yes," said Nate.

Jesse nodded. "I'm from Bristol."

"You poor bastard. I was born there. Been here for years, though."

Jesse grinned. "So. You want to show me around? Or are you too... preoccupied?"

Little fuck. He had to know the effect that coy little smile had on men.

"I suppose I could give you a couple of hours of my time," said Nate. "But if we're going out, I want to get changed."

"You live nearby?" Jesse asked.

Nate smiled.

The second Nate pushed the door to his apartment open, his lips were on Jesse's, pulling off the kid's biker jacket, pulling his shirt over his head.

And the kid was hot for it.

He started unbuttoning Nate's shirt, and Nate took over from him, shrugging it off while Jesse dropped his hands to fumble at Nate's belt.

As Jesse dropped to his knees in front of Nate and took his solid seven inches into his mouth, Nate was in heaven. He threw his head back, his hands resting against Jesse's silky black hair as the kid sucked him.

But as good as it was, the kid's mouth felt fresh.

Nate glanced down at Jesse, who looked up at him with large, dark eyes ringed with makeup.

"How long have you been out?"

Jesse pulled off his cock, spit slicking his delectable swollen lips. "Six months."

Jesus fuck.

"How old are you?" he asked, confused.

"Twenty-three. Just turned." Four-ish years younger than Nate.

Jesse took Nate's cock back into his mouth, and Nate stared down at him, disconcerted.

Six months.

Nate was suddenly unsure he should be doing this.

He pulled Jesse off his cock and pulled him to his feet.

"You sure you're gay?" he asked.

"Bi. Gay—maybe. I'm not sure." Jesse's eyes dropped to Nate's cock, and there was no confusion in his face about that.

Nate guided him to the bed and had him sit, while he pulled his trousers off and hung them over the back of a chair.

Jesse ran his fingers restlessly over the fabric of his biker jeans as he watched Nate strip.

"Are you going to fuck me?" he asked.

Nate laughed. "If that's what you want."

Jesse looked around the bedroom. Spotted something. A jacket, hung over a chair. His face stilled.

"That's not yours, is it?" he asked.

Nate glanced at it. Alec's zip-up hoodie, still waiting for him to come back and claim it.

"Belongs to the ex," he said.

"The one you were getting drunk to forget in the bar?" said Jesse.

"Yeah," said Nate darkly. "That's the one."

He stepped in close to Jesse, and Jesse closed his hand around Nate's length, stroking him while he looked up at Nate.

"How many men have you been with?" Nate asked.

Jesse counted in his head. "Do blowjobs count?"

Nate raised an eyebrow. "You decide."

"I've fucked two guys. My best mate, and..." he trailed off. "And, ah, I've sucked off six other guys. Older men. At a club."

Nate's eyebrow disappeared under his low-hanging fringe.

"For money?" he said.

Jesse's hand continued to jack him, slow strokes, collecting the first drops of precum and using them as lubrication. Fuck the kid was hot. Those eyes. His pretty face. His complete and total fucking innocence.

"They didn't pay us. They paid a guy called Oscar who ran the place."

Nate felt cold sluice down his spine. Oscar. He knew that name. Knew the place. Down in Portishead. And like fuck they didn't pay for it.

He caught Jesse's wrist and held his hand still against his cock.

"Who took you there?"

Jesse's eyes went wary. "My best mate, Will."

"And he told you he wasn't getting paid?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Nate pulled away from him. "Because your mate lied to you. He's a recruiter. He gets paid to take boys to Oscar's club. Gets paid to train them how to fuck. To condition them to want whatever the club needs. What did he have you do? Bottoms are the hardest to train, so they usually start you off soft and work you up to it."

Jesse looked as if he was going to be sick. "No. No, I've known him for four years. He's my best fucking mate." His voice was a coarse whisper.

Nate sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulders.

"Maybe he's your mate, maybe he's not," he said. "But you can bet your hot little arse he got paid."

"How much?" Jesse asked.

"Ten grand, usually," said Nate. "Maybe more."

"Ten grand?" Jesse looked as if he was in shock.

Nate felt a protective surge of concern for the kid. "Tell me you're not with him anymore?"

Jesse shook his head. "My girlfriend accused him of trying to break us up. Encouraging her to cheat on me. Encouraging me to cheat on her. We got into a fight, and then... then we broke up. Lucy and I, broke up. I couldn't stop fucking Will, so I decided to head overseas."

Nate's eyes slid sideways for a moment as he did a calculation. "The winter solstice is the next one. That's next week. He try to contact you recently?"

Jesse swallowed, as if he was trying to keep his bile down.

"Two days ago."

Nate squeezed his shoulders. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I really am."

Jesse shook his head. He looked up at Nate, his eyes burning. "You're lying. Does it get you off to make me think I sold myself? Like, some kind of sick fucking roleplay? Because it's not fucking funny."

Jesse's mind was racing. There was no way Will would do that to him. He came from a good family, his degree was going to earn him a mint. He didn't need money. And Jesse had known him for over four years. Will was his best mate. The one who always had his back. The one person who'd been there for Jesse when—

When he fucked your life over?

Are you really that sure he wouldn't sell you?

Nate shook his head. "I'm not lying. I've got no reason to. Trust me, I know what goes on there. I got offers to go there half a dozen times, but I'd already gotten out of—"

Jesse pulled away from him and got off the bed, his body tense, ready to fight, with no enemy in the room.

"Why would you say this shit to me? I was happy to fuck you. Do you get off on fucking with people's heads?"

Nate realised he was naked, and the kid looked as if he was escalating towards physical violence. He got off the bed and put the breakfast bar between them, clicking on the kettle.

The kid was in a strange guy's apartment, wasn't even sure if he was gay or bi, just found out the person closest to him had pimped him out. Nate hoped that filling the apartment with the domestic, soothing white noise of the kettle, would help calm him down.

Nate didn't usually have much patience with troubled youth, but there was something about this kid that made him feel oddly protective towards him. Made him want to punch this 'Will' in the face a couple of times.

Missing your pet Alec? Yeah. Maybe.

"I've got no reason to lie to you," he said, as Jesse stood there staring into space, his body tight and angry. "And if he was truly your friend, he'd have no reason to lie to you either."

Jesse spun to face him, his dark-ringed eyes black and full of hurt.

"You're fucking with me, aren't you? Back at the bar... I mean, I got it. You play with people.I wanted to fuck you, so I didn't care, but... this is... not fucking okay."

Nate shook his head as the kid advanced on him.

"I'm not lying," he said, keeping his voice calm. "And you need to calm the fuck down, Jesse. Back up. Take a deep breath and think about it."

Jesse's phone rang. Jammed into his jeans' pocket, Will's ringtone.

He moved away from Nate and answered it, while Nate leaned back against the bench.

"Will." Jesse's voice was filled with bitterness.

"Jesse? You haven't answered your phone in days. Your flatmates said you've left the flat. Where are you?"

"London. And, this might interest you, Will, this guy, whose apartment I'm in, this guy I'm about to fuck, says you got paid for taking me to Oscar's."

There was silence on the other end of the phone, Will's harsh breathing.

"Okay, Jesse, you need to listen to me. Firstly, get the fuck out of there—"

"Is it true?"

Nate poured water over teabags in two separate mugs. The kid was going to need something to calm him down after this conversation. Bourbon would have been better, but he didn't currently have any.

"Get out of there, and I'll head up to London and meet you. We can talk it through."

"Answer the fucking question, Will. Is it true? Did you get paid?"

"I can be there in a couple of hours if I can cadge a lift, three hours tops

"Answer the question!" Jesse was screaming into the phone now. "Did you recruit me? Did you fucking sell me?"

More harsh breathing on the line. Jesse heard the click of a lighter, the hiss of flame against a cigarette, Will taking those first few puffs.

"You need to let me explain."

Jesse held the phone in front of his face. "Fuck you!"

He turned his back on Nate and paced the length of the apartment, throwing his phone behind him. It bounced on the carpet and Nate picked it up.

It rang in his hands.

Jesse spun around. "Don't answer it."

Nate answered it.

He put the phone to his ear. "Will. I have a little problem. I was going to fuck this incredibly hot piece of ass that's standing in front of me, and then it turned out that his best mate's been grooming him into paid sex, and not even passing on the profits. Something of a pickle for me, because now he doesn't seem to be in the mood."

Jesse stared at Nate, but didn't make a move to take his phone back.

Nate heard Will suck hard on his cigarette.

"You were an entry," he said.

"No, Will, you see, I knew the score, andI decided that wasn't my cup of tea."

He stirred his cup of tea.

"But I'm dying to know why you sold someone into Oscar's who clearly thinks you're the sunlight that shines out of God's arsehole."

A long pause. "You're going to make this worse, aren't you?"

"Oh, I don't think that's possible," said Nate. "So why don't you give me your best explanation, so I can get back to sinking my cock into your delectable ex?"

Nate could feel Will's electrically charged anger through the phone.

"I had a debt," said Will. "The last guy I took to Oscar's bowed out halfway through. I owed them ten thousand pounds. I'm a university student, I didn't have it. I sure as fuck couldn't ask my parents for it."

Nate had heard this was the deal. It was one of the reasons the club hadn't appealed to him. You got ten grand if your entry performed. You owed ten grand if they didn't. And everything was on camera.

"Surely you owed five and your entry owed five?" said Nate.

"It was my risk," said Will. "And I know it was wrong, not to tell Jesse, but he loved it. I knew he'd love it. Genuinely love it. And if he hadn't, I'd have been twenty grand in the hole. It was my risk. They wouldn't have come after him. They'd have come after me."

"He trusted you."

Nate asking himself why he cared so much, and not knowing the answer.

There was a deep silence on the other end of the phone. "He loved it. And I was so fucked. He's my best fucking mate, you prick. I love him in a way you can't understand. Whoever you are, the man about to fuck him—" Will broke off abruptly, and Nate could sense the grief in the enraged silence that followed.

"So, now you've fucked me," Will said. He dragged on his cigarette. "And he thinks I just used him for money. Thanks, you fucking wanker."

The phone went dead.

Jesse watched Nate with eyes filled with liquid pain. "What did he say?"

Nate thought about it. What exactly had he said? He put Jesse's phone on the bench.

"I think you should talk to him. When you're ready."

It went against his own instinct, but there'd been real grief in Will's voice. Not the loss of a cash-cow, not even the loss of a lover. The loss of his closest friend.

Jesse walked over to the bench and picked up his phone. He pushed it back into his jeans.

"Did he do it?" he asked Nate.

Nate considered his answer. "He did it. But not because he doesn't care about you. You're going to need to talk to him and decide how you feel about what he's done."

Jesse put his hand against the phone in his pocket. He looked miserable.

Nate pushed a mug of tea towards him, but Jesse ignored it.

"Do you want to go?" Nate asked him.

Jesse shook his head. He walked back to the bed and sat on the end of it. Despite everything, Nate couldn't take his eyes off the kid's body. His long legs, his slim torso, his body light but toned, his hair like black silk, as glossy as Nate's own. His face.

Nate didn't think he was aware of it, but the kid was built to fuck. Things could have been so much worse for him if he'd met someone who didn't care about him at all.

For a moment Nate felt a stab of jealousy that this kid was more attractive than he was. A younger version of his own dark looks, untouched by Nate's parasitic past; what he might have been if his mother hadn't been a junkie who'd used him to fund her habit. A younger, naiver version. And then, Jesse's naivety only made him more attractive. Nate could see he'd be a predator magnet.

"You should go," he said to Jesse. "Just... stay away from the clubs. Don't hook up with anyone. There's worse than Will out there."

Jesse looked up at him with those big, soulful eyes. "I thought you wanted to fuck me?" He sounded hurt. Rejected.

Nate came back to him and sat beside him on the bed again. "Jesse, the world is going to come at you again and again. You're going to have to fend it off. You're never going to know if someone cares about you or wants to use you."

"Why?"

Genuine confusion. How was that possible?

"Because you're fuckable. You're a fucking icecream melting all over the cone on a hot day."

Jesse squinted his eyes at him, not sure if Nate was taking the piss or not.

"No one's going to care about your personality. They're going to see your face," and God, you could make yourself less pretty you know, "and they're going to want to fuck you. And some of them are going to see you as an opportunity."

Jesse didn't look any less wounded. "But you don't want to fuck me now."

"I don't want to hurt you,' said Nate. Because I've been there, he thought, and didn't say it out loud, because if Jesse really knew what the world had in store for him, he'd never make it to the US. He'd go home and hide in Bristol, and after a while he'd be back fucking Will, on his road to becoming less than he should be.

Nate knew Will's type. Domineering, controlling. Protective. Over-protective.

Like me.

And yeah, he could tell Will cared about Jesse, but he clearly owned the kid, and that wasn't healthy. He doubted it'd always been this way, suspected Will had broken Jesse down. It was a standard recruiter trick. Everyone wanted to fuck the confused straight kid. Everyone.

Jesse looked sideways at Nate. "But you still want to do me, yeah?"

Nate caught a flicker of something in the kid. Understood it. Confidence... you could draw it from a dozen places. A talent, a career, a face, sex... Jesse had been fucked over. He needed to feel wanted right now. As someone who'd been an unrepentant sex addict for most of his life, sex remained his favourite way to heal from just about anything.

"Oh, I do want to fuck you," he said. His voice had grown hoarse as he let his mind flow back to where it wanted to be. Fucking this kid. Feeling his tight arse close around his cock, tasting his cum in his mouth. This barely touched, pristine kid who'd been gay for ten minutes, and who was every guy's wet dream.