HOUSE OF BROKEN SOULS Part 31
Warnings: This Chapter: Adult concepts, some d/s themes, schmoop, mention of significant age gap. Overall: Slash, sexually explicit content, graphic violence
The fiction includes a mental illness storyline. I am not qualified in mental health, everything I know about it is googled. It's fantasy folks, please don't shoot me though helpful criticism is always welcomed.
*Not real. The folks aren't mine. No damage intended.
Lia (Cheebles) is still with me for help & support for which I am very grateful (hugs)
Jensen snapped awake with the sound of movement next to him. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand, 4am. Jared was pulling the black wife beater over his head. His breath was fast and erratic, his eyes wild.
“Jay? What’ya doing?” he propped himself on one elbow and squinted to focus on the tall man.
“Have to go. My babies.” Jared pulled denims over his toes.
“They can wait, you fed and walked them last night, right?”
“Yes , but..” he was interrupted as Jensen slid across the bed and grabbed him around the waist, pulling him into a heap onto the bed. “You don’t need to go. Why are you running away?”
“I don’t do this. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’ve just got to go.” he struggled to release himself from Jensen’s arms. Jared’s breath came in gulps as he hyperventilated. He felt the cold steel before he heard it snap and the shock of finding himself cuffed to Jensen’s headboard stopped him momentarily. “What the hell, Jen?”
Jensen straddled him, pressing down on his flailing limbs. “Ssshh, stop freaking out, I’ll uncuff you as soon as you’re calm. You need to listen to me.” His voice was low and calming. “Stay still and breathe with me, can you do that?”
Jared shook his head in protest, gasping for breath.
“Not gonna let you go till you do.” He leaned in and kissed Jared’s forehead. “You promised to try with me baby.” He loosened his grip on the uncuffed wrist and Jared didn’t move it. “Good boy. Trust me. You‘re safe. ” He placed his hands over the younger man’s heart and massaged slowly. “Sshh. Calm down. Now breathe baby.”
Jared came down slowly, his eyes settling into a locked gaze with Jensen then closing as he relaxed and zoned out. He remembered.
“Sshh. Calm down. Now breathe, Baby Boy.”
2001
The back seat is empty. He sits anxiously, fighting the urge to flee. The man in the peaked cap leans across and slams the door shut. “Buckle up, we’ll get you ready before Sir comes home. There‘s drinks there. Feel free to have one, but no more, drunk is never attractive. ”
He doesn’t take one. For all he knows they’re drugged.
“Where are we going? What do you want me to do?”
“Somewhere more comfortable. Sir will want to relax with you.”
“I don’t do pain and that shit, and no more than two, the rate is more for two.” he says stubbornly.
The man in the cap studies him in the mirror, he‘s old, maybe in his sixties, there are laughter lines ingrained in his face. He holds himself proud and distinguished. “You misunderstand. It’s just Sir. He won’t hurt you. He’s a busy man who needs to relax, you’re going to help him do that. This way saves time. I know his tastes and he doesn’t have to see you with evidence of the gutter all over you.”
“You’re his chauffeur?” asks JT cautiously.
“Chauffeur, valet, butler, whatever, bit of everything including friend. Call me Smith” he says and smiles reassuringly into the mirror.
Imposing gates slide open and they pass through. He looks back to see them closing. He bites his lip and buries his doubts. The driveway is long and winds through gardens. The car continues past the main entrance of the immense building, coming to a stop, partially hidden by sturdy trees, at a side door on the far wing of the building.
The door opens. “Hop out then.” the chauffeur says cheerfully and guides him through the door and up echoing steps. “Can’t have the household asking questions.” he says, as if reading the boy’s thoughts.
They reach a door in the silent building and the chauffeur pushes a key into the lock and opens it. The room is elegant and sumptuous. The bed sits, huge and round on a raised platform in the middle, with a comforter of silk and scatter of velvet cushions. The furniture is of polished, robust wood. Light falls through voile curtains and there are scented flowers on decorative stands.
Smith guides him gently by his elbow. “The bathroom is through here. You have time to avail yourself of a bath. There are oils to use. I’ll leave some clothes for you and something to eat. Sir should be home in a while but he will want to rest first. I trust you will not damage anything.” He puts the plug into the bath, turns faucets on and bows out of the bathroom leaving JT alone.
The bath is stupendous, JT hasn’t seen anything like it and he’s still just a kid really. He plays with the golden faucets with their pre-set temperature dial, he puts in too many bubbles and blows them across room. Most of all he sinks into the hot depths of this circular marble tub, that fits all of him and lets the street dirt soak off. He snaps-to after a while, remembering he’s working. He makes use of everything, the shampoo, the razor, the manicure kit, the kitten-soft towels and the hairdryer. The man that looks back from the mirror is almost unrecognizable.
He wanders back into the bedroom and finds soft black jersey boxers, still in their packaging and a short, black cotton housecoat. Nothing sordid or cheap, he notes. He puts them on and sits on the bed, bouncing a little. He considers the contents of the room and gets back up. Curious about the view he pulls the voile curtains back. The windows are barred. He falls back on the balls of his feet and his breath catches. His feet drag, as if in syrup, but he makes it to the door and tugs on the handle. It doesn’t move. He tries twisting the handle in all directions. The door won’t open, it’s locked.
JT shouts and hammers on the door but nobody comes. Eventually he gives up and curls in a ball on the bed, sniffing back tears. There’s nothing he can do. He hasn’t had a place to sleep in weeks that isn’t a doorway or bench. The bed is warm and soft, he closes his eyes and drifts off. The sound of the lock turning wakes him and he moves to the edge of the bed. The man is powerfully built and toned, well kept but silver haired and close to retirement age. He is looking at JT, eyes lusty and approving. He’s got the key in his hand and is moving to place it back in the lock.
JT makes a dash for the door, feet scrabbling for the floor, but he forgets the dais. He falls with a sickening crunch and his ankle bends unnaturally, shooting spikes of pain through him. Then he’s screaming and flailing, fighting with the silver haired man, scrambling on his knees for the door and he's struggling for air but he can’t breathe. Hands pin him down and he blacks out.
He can hear before he’s able to open his eyes. “Sshh. Calm down. Now breathe Baby Boy.” The voice is soft, smooth and yet commanding.
Then to someone else “Is he on drugs? Christ! He’s stunning. Are you sure he’s over eighteen?”
“He said he was nineteen. He seemed fine, normal. I left him here getting a bath, locked the door for him while I put the car away.”
“You locked him in all this time Smith?”
“There's been workmen, I didn't want anyone wandering in by accident.”
JT tests his eyes experimentally and his eyelashes flutter.
“I think he’s coming to.”
“Sshh Baby Boy. Need you to stay calm and listen. You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you. Didn’t mean to scare you. The door’s open. You can leave any time you want but right now you’re hurt and mustn’t move. There’s a doctor on the way.”
He opens his eyes to see blue eyes, framed with crow's feet, staring down at him, his own terror reflected back in them. The man is cradling his head on his lap, carding his hands through his hair. “Need to go to the hospital.” JT mutters weakly.
The blue eyes widen in more terror. “I can’t do that, I just can’t. We’ll get someone here. Then we’ll take you home, talk about the work you’ll miss, make sure you get paid it all.
“Take me home?” JT asks weakly, then follows up “but there’s bars on the windows. You locked the door.”
There‘s a sharp intake of breath and the man leans in close, hugging him tight. “For privacy. It’s the old nursery. It’s just the old nursery.”
“Oh.”
Smith leans over them, handing a phone to the man.
“OK Baby Boy you need to give me your emergency contact and we’ll get someone here for you.”
“S’nobody”
“Whoever watches out for you, you have to tell them.”
“S’nobody.” he repeats.
The man frowns “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Don’t you take any care? What about your parents, your family, friends?”
“Jus’ me.” he says through grated teeth, eyes spilling tears of pain.
“Where do you live?”
“Here and there.” JT replies. The man’s face crumples and he holds on to JT, firm and reassuring.
The ankle is set in a cast in the same room while the silver-haired client sits with him. He’s settled, in the bed, on his own and the nurse gives him painkillers, shows him the bottles and brand names, explains the effects and hands the bottle directly to him. Smith explains that it’s up to him if he takes them or not.
He asks when he’ll be taken home and his client wipes the hair from his face and looks at him kindly. JT thinks this is the way a father is meant to look at his son. “I can’t put you back on the streets like this Baby Boy. I need you to trust me, at least until you’re better. I‘m going to close the house off, it’s only Smith and I here. I’ll give the staff leave. You shouldn’t be disturbed but you have to understand, I’m not out, I can’t be doing this here with you. Nobody can know. I’m trusting you too.”
It’s not like it’s an arrangement he can refuse in his state, but the door is left ajar, he’s dressed in comfortable jersey pyjamas, he’s not asked for sex and for some inexplicable reason JT feels calm. He feels safe here with this man.
Jared unwound. The emotions he was feeling, here with Jensen, were familiar. He could do this.
***
Jensen felt Jared relax, his features smoothing and he almost panicked but for the hazel eyes re-opening, steady and focused, to look up at him. “Where were you?” Jensen asked.
“I’m someplace safe.” Jared replied cryptically. He reached to Jensen’s cheek with his uncuffed hand, smoothing it gently. “Thanks.” he whispered.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. Really. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Someone’s keen to see you.” Jensen lifted himself away from the architect and left the room. Moments later there was explosion of fur and wet tongues as Harley and Sadie flung themselves onto the rumpled bed to snuffle at their master with enthusiastic tail wagging and malodorous breath. The handcuffs slid off as Jensen released them.
“You did this? How? Why?”
“A little bird warned me that you find waking with someone difficult. S’OK Jay, I get it. Same little bird has a spare key to your apartment.”
Jared reddened, “You’ve been discussing my sex life. That's, uh, awkward.”
“He cares and I hate to break it to you Jay but there’s barely a soul who doesn’t discuss your sex life. It‘s not like I even asked. If it makes you feel better, no we didn’t go into any details. I asked if he could bring the dogs over. He thought I should let you go home. I won.” he pushed Harley away as a wet tongue lapped at his cheek. “Uck, are they always like this?”
“I’m glad you did.” Jared yawned. Harley and Sadie were settling heavily over both men.
Jensen kissed the back of Jared’s neck and draped his arm around him. “You wanna go back to sleep?”
“Mm.”
Harley started to snore and it wasn’t long before the heap of dogs and men were sleeping.
***
Jensen woke to daylight, the smell of fresh coffee and a heavy object leaping on his stomach. Sadie looked at him playfully, sock in mouth.
“Sadie! Give!” Sadie crouched and dropped the sock as Jared entered the room carrying a steaming mug. “I’m guessing you’re grumpy without coffee.” he said, sitting by Jensen’s side.
“You’re still here.”
“I’m still here. Thank-you.” he leaned over Jensen and gave him a chaste kiss on his lips “and you’re going to have to stop making those weird cow eyes at me because I have appointments I can’t miss and dogs to take out. I promise I’m not running away, that is if you want to y’know, do what you said last night.” he looked shyly at Jensen.
“Yes, God yes, I want to date you Jared.” he laughed “Listen to me, I sound like some college girl.”
“No, it’s OK I like the idea. I’ve never done that, dated I mean, not in the real sense. I‘m not sure why you‘d want to but I‘d like it.”
Jensen grinned wolfishly at Jared “Have you looked at you lately? Have you any idea how sexy that Professional-meets-good-Samaritan thing you’ve got going on is? I want to get to know you better.” He sipped from his mug, staring into the black liquid and didn’t see Jared’s brows furrow at the comment. “Add to the list you make amazing coffee.”
“I tried not to mess up your kitchen but it’s very..” he struggled to find the right words “very white. In fact everywhere is white, except your furniture, which doesn’t seem to match at all.”
“I may not have bothered talking to the interior designer. It didn’t seem important, but yeah, it’s pretty much horrible. Thank-you for you tact.”
Jared glanced at the clock. “I have to go. I hope you don’t mind, I borrowed some socks from your drawer. I’m not going to ask how my clean clothes got here or where the clothes I was wearing have gone. We’ll save it for later.”
Jensen groaned and pulled the brunette on top of him “You didn’t borrow any boxers, which means that under here,” and he squeezed Jared’s ass through his jeans “ you’re going commando. How can you leave me like that?”
“Because I have a scary-ass Project Manager waiting for me.” he leaned in for another kiss, lips parted and Jensen met him, slanting against them, tongue licking lazily into his mouth. Jared’s mouth was minty fresh and his lips warm and he pulled away too soon with a slight smack of the lips. “Can I see you later? I‘ll be calling by the Precinct this afternoon.”
Jensen nodded vigorously. “Fuck, yes.”
Continued in Part 32 here: anniespinkhouse.livejournal.com/9543.html