Jensen's clothes were filthy and blood stained and a bandage covered an oozing crimson slash on his shoulder. He was wet through and travel weary but his eyes retained a spark of nefarious excitement from whatever battles he had seen that day. He fell into Jared’s care with silent appreciation. The fire was stoked, fresh clothes warmed and a table set for Supper. Mead glistened amber in his glass and plate of rich pie and vegetables was kept hot on the hearthstone. A single chair was pulled back, awaiting his presence and a cushion rested at its foot.
He let Jared wash and dress him, towel his hair and invite him to his Supper but he remained tightly coiled, wound up with unnamed influence. When finally he broke his quiet concentration, he took his slave close, cradled his face in his hands and rubbed at Jared's freshly-shaved chin with a thumb, “Child.” he said simply and full of concern.
“Sshh. I wanted to. I already ate with Steve.”
“You’re incredible, Child. Did I tell you that?”
“You may have mentioned it.” Jared gripped his hips and pulled him close for a short eager kiss.
“How do you want me? and you’re not allowed to say 'now' because you have to eat to maintain your strength, and we have to talk to maintain our agreement.”
Jensen groaned, “You’re such a demanding slave.” His hands tugged at the bottom of Jared’s shirt and caressed the firm, smooth flesh underneath. His hand wandered over the outline of his slave's ribs and reached to grasp and twist forcefully on a nipple. Jared arched away with a hiss and he withdrew the probing digits. “Mmm.” Jensen added in absent pleasure.
“You should sit.” Jared backed him in to the chair and slid it into place.
Jensen tutted, “Naked and at my feet. That’s how you should be,” he said, “but you already knew that.”
Jared dropped his eyes in reverence and undressed slowly, revealing gleaming flesh, inch by slow inch and Jensen watched him with greedy gaze and dark hunger. His Master had him stand naked and motionless while he trailed a finger over the needy erection that had formed. "So wanting. Too eager, Child. You should learn to control that." His voice was gravel and broken glass with barbs that pierced Jared's calm with a shudder of his spine. "Now," Hot breath huffed over ther slave's navel and the sensitive head of his cock, "I want to see how you submit for me, my slave."
He kneeled with grace onto the cushion by his Master's side, lowered his head in full respect and waited for Jensen's sign that he could serve. Jensen had him maintain the position for long moments of silent contemplation and then let him serve, tucked into the meal with enthusiasm and spoke between bites.
I spent the day gathering information.” he started. Jared let him continue without interruption. “The armies met at Taran Caer. There have been heavy casualties but neither is yet victorious. No word is given of Morgan and rumor is that he is not there.” Jensen smoothed a hand over his slave’s face and onto his collar. “There are reports that forward troops have reached our home. Joshua is battened-in and under siege but the States’ troops have greater number and rally near.”
“Does Morgan command the siege?”
“No.”
“So he has forward warning, he has gone to ground.”
“It will not last. The sparks of this revolution have already scattered and set aflame. It is moving faster than any of us anticipated. There are already uprisings and crowds of protest that grow in Venne and Ty’ bont.”
“Venne,” Jared repeated with an outward rush of air. He felt giddy and the air seemed thin. Jensen steadied him with a soothing rub and a reminder to breathe. “The Summer Palace.” Jared choked in panic.
“The prison,” articulated Jensen in calm, matter of fact tone. “It is where Morgan takes his most vocal political opponents. “Steve’s troops move at dawn to contain the risk of careless losses and garner evidence.”
Jared wound his fingers together and looked to the floor.
“You’re doing it again, Child.” The voice was stern, long fingers tipped his chin to have him look into Jensen’s face.
Jared couldn’t find the right words. “What? Master.”
“Speaking with silence. Talk to me.Tell me.”
“It’s not my place.” Jared spoke low.
“I decide that, Jared. So speak.”
Jared didn’t know where to begin. He spoke with a careful attention to his tone, no whining or aggression, he thought.
“You said that you would not interfere, that it wasn’t your place to be a part of this rebellion. I don’t understand how your mission to Venne can be neutral. It is certainly dangerous.” Jared worked to contain his anxiety but his Adam’s apple bobbed and his eyes were wide under thick lashes.“You should be here with me. I don’t want to lose you, not like that, not in a fight that isn’t your own. The troops that guard Venne are the best, the very pinnacle of the Realm's forces.”
The surprise was evident in Jensen’s reply, "How did you know? Wait. Steve, it was Steve wasn’t it?”
“He said he would not allow me with you.”
“He won’t, nor shall I. End of discussion. Plate. ” Jensen was abrupt, he pointed to his empty plate, and even though he was confused and disappointed Jared was prompt in its removal and the provision of a cheese course. Jensen took an about-turn in conversation, with questions about Jared’s day and the Queen’s health. He slipped a grape under the table to place it on Jared’s lips and had him suck it in and lick at his fingers. He let out a soft sigh and palmed the growing tent in his britches as the action was repeated with a square of rich cheese. What was said next was lust-filled and gravelly, spoken with command and not request. “I shall enjoy you tonight, Child.”
The desire and authority of it crept under Jared's skin and tingled at every nerve and each pore of his being. He wanted for this, waited for it all day and the agitation at being excluded from Jensen’s battle plans melted with the heat of his passion. The chair scraped back from the table with a push of muscular thighs and Jensen’s legs spread wide to welcome him as he obeyed silent signal to kneel there. Two hands tangled in his hair and pushed his head downward to nuzzle his mouth against the rigid outline of his Master’s erection. His own cock twitched and took interest but Jensen disentangled the soft locks from his fingers and snatched at the cuffs on his wrists to place Jared’s hands over his quivering inner thighs. “Mine!” Jensen reminded, and Jared moaned at the rush of blood pumping to his erection. “Show me, what it is you do for me, let me use you, have you lick me, suck me, please me and then swallow every drop that you wring from me.” The words were wonderfully wrong, dripping with the obscenity of salacious sin and Jared licked his lips with the gathering saliva that drooled there.
No more time on thinking, his hands and mouth wilfully colluded to forget everything but the want, want, want that thrummed through him. He pawed at the stubborn britches and Jensen steadied and aided him until his mouth slid, hot and wet down the swollen, solid pole, then paused to lick at the tip and suck the pre-come from the spongy head.
“Such hot property, such a pretty, filthy mouth. My good boy. All mine. Just mine.”
Perfect words, it felt so right, tasted and smelled so good, so many wrongs slid away with every slip of his tongue up and down, over and around the pulsing vein of his Master, his Prince, his lover. Each pulse was a beat of the heart that belonged to Jared, his.
The pressure increased on his head, hair was painfully tugged as he sucked Jensen in and opened his throat to him. “Want to see your face, your perfect face as I fuck into it. Open your eyes for me Child.” Jensen gave in to sheer animal rhythm, and Jared tried to keep pace as the thrusting length pushed harshly against the soft tissue of his throat, had him full, scraped sore and breathless. Still he had his fingers exploring, gentle pressure on Jensen's balls and smooth touch of his fingers between muscular globes to circle the rim of his Master's tight pucker.
All the time he kneeled, submissive, staring up with bright hazel eyes through thick, dark lashes and soft mussed hair, while his lips closed wide, red and velvet around the thick, sensitive cock. Jensen came with a guttural wrenched cry and Jared swallowed, licking each last drop from the slit of the softening dick and from his own lips. He relished the sensation, the taste and the act, without consideration to his own straining erection.
“Fuck, Jared! Gods! You don't know what it is you do." Jensen was panting, sweat running from his brow but he stood and tugged Jared by the ring of his collar. He pulled him up with a surprising force and Jared let himself be dragged along and flung across the bed and the sensation of it, the force of being needed this way thrilled through him, had him trembling with anticipation. Jensen landed over him, knees astride of him, strong hands holding him down against the mattress, his eyes heavy with desire and maybe something else, darker and indistinct. Jared moved, an attempt to swing his hips upwards, to grind against the firm flesh of his Master but Jensen’s knee blocked and pinned him with a sharp pain and he moaned in desperation.
“No! You don’t get to be in charge.” How could Jensen be so deliciously cruel?
“Please, Jen, please,” he begged, but the older man wasn't paying attention to his pleas, he was stiff in his actions, shutting down from his slave.
“No! There’s something I need to do, to say.” There was nothing sensual in the statement.
Jared felt the strain on his arms as his cuffs were secured with a short chain, to the bedstead above him and his hips snapped up again, drawn to Jensen, searching for some relief but Jensen was backing away, and Jared heard the metallic clink of more chain just before he felt the cold metal around his ankles the snick of locks as he was immobilised.
Jensen hovered over him. The sweat glistened on his skin, his lips pursed in a kiss swollen heart, his pupils blackened and complemented the gold-green of his usual gaze but the expression was lit with adrenalin and fear. Worry lined Jensen's mouth and had him biting his lip. He sat back on Jared's thighs and the weight was heavy but not comforting to Jared. Jensen seemed to be searching for words, unable to stutter them out and the younger man felt cold panic gather in the green eyed man and slither to squeeze at his own heart. “Jensen? What is it? Jen?”
His Master averted his gaze as he spoke, “I lied Jared. It was always a lie.”
The cold squeeze on Jared's heart turned to ice, started to crack into shards and began to shatter. “Jen?”
Part Twenty Eight Masterpost
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