Lyrics: "Unravel" © TK (English Cover by Jonathan Young)

Garden of the Broken

Chapter 38

October 17

They hadn't spoken at all during the long drive home. Jason was fairly certain the vampire wasn't even in his head, acting as a spectator for the gong show that had suddenly erupted within him. He hadn't asked any questions; hadn't made any comments, lewd or curious or otherwise. His expression had been a stony mask of indifference, lacking all of its usual subtle and liquid quirks of brow or lip, the narrowing of his eyes in keen interest or dismissal. He'd been still as a statue except for the bare minimum of movement required for driving.

Jason didn't doubt for a single, solitary second that it was because of what he'd said earlier, after the vampire had given him that utterly mind-blowing blowjob in the back of the car.

Even as he thought of it now, ensconced in the safety of his bedroom, tucked into his sheets, he huffed out a breath and petulantly rolled onto his other side, squirming around in an effort to get comfortable. He still didn't understand any of what he'd done on the ferry. Didn't understand why the vampire's tears had moved him into protector mode, even though Rori was a being perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Didn't understand why he'd allowed him to kiss him. Definitely didn't understand why he'd eagerly consented to that blowjob in the first place.

Maybe it had been the song, their encore of the evening. "Unravel". Maybe that had messed with his head more than he thought, and left him pining for closeness and intimacy.

"I'm not what I was then

Don't touch the infection

Entwined we will both die

So stay away, and stay alive"

It was funny how all of a sudden, those words seemed tailored to Rori, enhancing just how alone he really was, despite having Julian at his side, and having the teens underfoot. He had no equals in the vampire realm save apparently the man who'd come to try and win him back, the same asshole who'd taken Jason hostage and spat something about how he "owned" Rori.

How could anyone claim to own that man? He was too strong, too pig-headedly independent to ever find himself under someone else's thumb. He would have bitten it off and eaten it if they tried. So what had that all been about, really? What had been so bad about that interaction tonight that left Rori crying pure tears, almost inconsolable in the moonlight?

And then Jason remembered Rori's story, and his heart sank. About how the man had trapped, beaten, raped, and branded him, later running him through with a stiletto meant for Rori's brother. How it had all but killed him. How the man had escaped the noose, and survived long enough to be turned and track Rori down all these hundreds of years later. To try and own him again.

What Jason couldn't figure out was where that brand must be. Because he'd seen almost every inch of the man in the time of their acquaintance, and while he'd seen scars, nicks and slashes from his human life, he'd never seen a brand, which could only mean…

Oh, god. The mere thought of it made his stomach roil with nausea. The one area he'd never seen, never been coerced to touch or use his mouth on. Rori's perineum. That smooth stretch of tissue between his balls and his ass. Christ, how much must it have hurt to be branded there of all places? He couldn't even imagine it. And trying to fathom how hard it must have been to heal in a time like the 16th century… A frigid shudder rolled through his body. He got lucky with the stabbing. It would have been easily accessible to doctors to treat without bestowing any indignity on the patient. That, his brand, was unfathomably lucky it never got infected and killed him via sepsis, particularly if he'd been too ashamed to have it tended to by a proper doctor of the times. And riding horseback…

Jason curled up into a ball, his flattened hands plastered between his thighs at the mere thought of having a burn there, of all the places. He thought of a younger Rori, bound to his luxurious feather bed, sweating through fevers and infections of his stab wound and the ongoing agony of his burn scar. Imagined his heroic brother sitting nearby and holding Rori's hand, waiting for him to either recover, or succumb, and the torture of that possibility hanging in the balance must have caused anguish beyond words.

No wonder, then, why Rori had been so upset. To relive those kinds of memories, the rape and the branding and weighing life against death, would have brought anyone to tears, because as far as he could recall, the doctors back then weren't especially good ones, still believing in regular bleedings to balance the humours and other gory things of the like.

Christ, between the two, he's lucky he didn't die.

Relaxing from his fetal position, Jason gave a long, thorough stretch and flopped over onto his back, a forearm across his brow, staring up at the dark, coffered ceiling. Still doesn't explain the blowjob. Like… why?! You just fucking cheated – on Rachel – with not only a man but the one who's been fucking with your head since the day you arrived! You consented, for fuck's sake, his mind shrieked. You consented instead of being all, "ah, no homo," and just… why?! Like I know you wanted things to go back to normal but was that really one of the things you were missing overmuch?!

His brain flashed back to the way Rori had taken him down to the root, his lips brushing the bare skin of Jason's pelvis, his sex caught in the suction and the pressure of the vampire's throat. The way his mouth had milked him absolutely dry during his orgasm, swallowing down every last drop of come before licking up to the head of his dick as though he were looking for more, tongue swirling and wriggling into his slit.

Jason's cock gave an involuntary jerk in his boxers. He gives damn good head, though.

Not the issue here! His mind paused, Actually, that's exactly the issue. He gave you a masterclass-level blowjob and you enjoyed it for the whole of five minutes before deciding that it was a mistake. Why.

When he'd uttered those words in the car, he'd been bereft of an explanation, and despite the time he'd had to pry one loose from his brain, he still found himself standing there with cupped palms, filled with nothing. I'm still not gay, his thoughts stubbornly put forth. Hell, I let Rachel give me a BJ not that long ago and I liked that well enough. In spite of the lip gloss and the random morphing of Rachel into Julian. Still not gay. I'm just… confused.

Confused… Right, the more contentious part of his mind drawled.

Hey. Sex is a drug, all right? You just keep happening to get it from that smug motherfucker with the red hair, and he's built up your tolerance to fucking God-level, and now you're addicted to it. He's made you want it for so long that now you've got a dependency, and tonight just proves you right. God… Jason dragged his hands down his face, a low groan resonating from his throat.

Maybe you went along with it because it was what Rori needed just then, and you were just a… a… Scrambling for the right word, Jason hooked his fingers painfully into the ridge of jawbone beneath his teeth before releasing another, louder groan and crushing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Aaaaauuuuuugh. What's the word? Receptacle? No, technically that would have been Rori since he swallowed all my jizz like he lives off the stuff. Conduit? The word 'victim' flashed across his mind for one fleeting second before he brusquely dismissed it. He'd been anything but a victim in that car.

Means to an end, the more combative part of him stated bluntly.

But that sounds so… so… impersonal, the rest of him pouted. And you cannot, under almost any circumstances, call that kind of blowjob impersonal. He was hungry for it. He needed it. I swear, if he was anyone else, he would have been begging me to fuck him raw, and he would have been desperate and dirty about it.

Never mind the fact that his chub gave another sharp pulse of interest at the thought, and the mental image itself was… How did one say? Muy caliente.

Also, never going to happen in a million-million years, you sick, confused little mutt of a pup- Wait. Why did that idea present itself with so much excitement? He couldn't actually be… No, no, he was just horny apparently and his mind was grabbing after whatever jerkoff material it could find. Like Rori being entwined around him, his skin snow white against Jason's caramel flesh, his long legs wrapped up around his waist with his ankles crossed, those pianist's fingers pressing into the skin of his back and creating dimples in the vampire's desperation. His characteristically poised countenance loose with lust from being on the receiving end for once, the way he might bite his lip, moaning mindlessly with each thrust…

Christ, his mouth was actually salivating at the idea. And that was nothing compared to the way his dick was rapidly filling, getting hard and stiff in his boxers.

Oh, god, please don't tell me you're actually attracted to him. Please, please, please, for the love of everything that's innocent and holy, tell me you're not developing a thing just because you saw a little bit of his vulnerable human side while he was crying. But then, back before the assault, before the concert and before school had even started, he had been wondering…

Rolling onto his side and clutching at his pillow, wide, mismatched eyes locked unseeing upon the wall, Jason had to try multiple times to swallow past the slimy lump in his throat, his breath coming in rapid, shallow breaths. He couldn't be. He couldn't be.

Was he actually developing a seed of attraction to the vampire?

No. No.

No, no, no, no, no! It was impossible. Whatever they had between them was purely physical, right? Just sex. That's all it had ever been. Sex. Fucking phenomenal sex, granted, but still sex. Purely transactional.

But tonight, when he'd seen the agony in the vampire's glistening eyes…

"It's a horrid thing, that feeling."

His heart clenched in his chest for one long, painful moment, the loneliness in the vampire's voice recollected with crystalline clarity as his dick gave another insistent throb that it not be forgotten. Jason thrust the memory from his mind and shamefully turned his attention to the hand he slid down his body to rub himself against, eyes flashing shut, teeth capturing his lip, as he recalled the blowjob Rori had given him in the car. Pleasure given, he realized – not taken. Even though the vampire had to have been straining painfully within the confines of his slacks, denied release utterly and completely. It must have been driving him mad, but he'd never taken himself in hand, never demanded or even suggested in his salacious way that Jason return the favour. No, he'd done nothing, eager only to give Jason the overabundance of pleasure that had very nearly had him trying to crawl out of his own skin.

With the vampire's ghost twining around him in his mind, he gave another maddening thrust against the flat of his hand before he simply shoved his boxers down, kicked them off, rolled onto his back, and spread his legs. His cock was poised eagerly over his abdomen with a wet spot growing on his flesh, and he gave himself a tight, hard stroke that made him arch against the mattress with a groan.

Fuck Rori for making him like this, anyways. He hoped the next time the vampire got laid, he thought of Jason in that car, and grew as desperate for release as Jason was right now. Fucking bloodsucker.

-x-

For the first time in over two hundred years, a harsh breath sucked itself into him as he bolted partially upright, fists clenched into silky bedding, wild eyes staring blindly into the resolving darkness of their bedchambers. He felt the pottery crashing over the back of his head again; felt his limp body crumple with a heavy thump to the floor as consciousness fled his mind like a flock of startled birds. Felt, as he gradually came to, the coarse rope biting into the tender flesh of his wrists and neck, finding himself in a dim, barely lit room with Sébastien leaning against a rickety table with his arms crossed, waiting, oh so patiently, for him to wake up. He remembered the horrible emptiness of his once-lover's eyes as they looked at him, remembered the ribbons of hate and fury that rippled through him as he thrashed against his bindings and was forced to stop when they constricted dangerously around him.

He even remembered the slow, creeping horror as he realized precisely what kind of predicament he was in. Bound and helpless, trapped in an inn they'd used for their more… salacious encounters, where no one asked questions, with a man who coveted him to the point of obsession. No one knew he was there. He'd told no one, knowing full and well how his brother would likely react upon seeing the missive he'd received from a man who'd stalked him relentlessly for months. But it had been time to settle this, once and for all.

Gods, he'd never even seen the attack coming. It had never even occurred to him that Sébastien would truly resort to visiting violence upon him… But how wrong he'd been.

Cursing the naivete of his younger self as he straightened into a sitting position, he wiped away the moisture gathering in his eyes and only succeeded in smearing tears, instead of sweat, across his countenance. He could not sweat, as mortals did, and for once he found himself feeling grateful, knowing that if he could, he would have been drenched by the time of the nightmare's conclusion, hair sticking to his brow, beads glistening on his face and chest. If he weren't already pale as a corpse, his skin would have been reduced to an ashen pallor by the sheer horror of the things replaying themselves through his mind. Not a nightmare, but a memory, and one he'd wished thoroughly that he'd forgotten.

Fucking hells… He dragged a hand over his face again, breaths still coming, heavy and jagged, through his heaving lungs, before he raked his fingers back through his hair. Only then, when he broadened his mind to encompass the rest of the room in a bid for the comfort of familiarity, did he realize Julian was sitting up next to him, an elbow propped on his knee so his chin might rest itself on the heel of his palm, those tan eyes gently scrutinizing him.

"Forgive me," he rasped, his voice as coarse the rope he remembered tightening around his throat, not quite managing to look at his lover. "Did I wake you?"

Julian hummed and gave only a mute shake of his head as he toyed with a wavy lock of dirty blonde hair that had been tucked behind his ear. "I couldn't sleep," he murmured, peering at him still. A pregnant pause collapsed upon them for what felt like an eternity, thick and choking, and it was Julian who cleaved it in two, his voice soft in the darkness that lay spread between them. "You were remembering, weren't you? That time."

With his composure still eluding him, Rori could do nothing more than nod, shifting over to the edge of the bed and slouching over his knees as he rested his head in his trembling hands. He could hear his cambion give a soft sigh, felt him crawling on hands and knees across the mattress to mould himself against his naked back, arms laced around his waist and a cheek pressed against the rear of his shoulder.

"You'd think," Rori began, voice breaking in the darkness, "that after all these years, I would have forgotten something. Anything. Some small level of detail. That my mind would have tried to protect itself from the trauma. But I remember it, all of it, every last second, as though it had only happened yesterday."

Silence settled like a third lover in their rooms, sprawled lazy and languid with no intention of leaving, despite the absence of its permission to be in attendance. It lay curled around their bedchamber, sated and content, with its head propped on a single hand, watching them, waiting, daring them to challenge it. Rori wanted to collapse in that silence, to curl into a tiny ball in their bed and forget that he'd ever met the Frenchman, forget the evening the man had ruined with his presence and his hostility.

Forget the way he'd threatened Jason's life with far more than mere death. And the way, after their desperately intimate moment in the car, Jason had…

"I think this was a mistake."

As though knowing precisely where his mind had wandered, Julian pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "I can help you forget, if you'd like," the cambion murmured, unlacing his fingers to gently rub a hand over the rippling hills and valleys of his abdominal muscles. "Maybe not for long, but for a brief while, at least. Help… overwrite some of the negativity with something more positive. Something to perhaps lance the wound."

Rori turned his head a fraction of the way around as though to spare Julian a glance, brow cocked. Gods, how he craved for his cigarettes just then – but he'd thrown his last pack into the ocean, and hadn't stopped to pick up more, drowning in the silence of the car. "Oh?"

Julian's warm fingers danced up to his shoulder, painting patterns and symbols of love utterly unknown to the world at large, a language of touch just for them. "Come to the West Wing with me." He wrapped his arms around Rori's waist again as a frisson of alarm went through him, the blonde settling his chin on his shoulder, oblivious to the emotions that were rippling across his nervous system. "Let me take control," Julian murmured into his shoulder. "Let me make you mine. Nothing roots a wandering mind like yours better than some pain mixed with pleasure."

And sorely tempted though he was, his system was thrumming with fear, so Rori softly hummed and shook his head. "Not this night, my love. I worry that too much that the pair would…" If he were a stronger man, he would have confessed his fears – that the West Wing would trigger flashbacks, physical memories of the abuse that he'd suffered that night, so many years ago – but being the coward he was, he let the rest of the statement slip away into oblivion. "I can't. I…"

Julian gave a soft click of his tongue and rewrapped his arms around him, shushing any further protests before they could arise in his throat, tenderly kissing a line across the back of his shoulder, down the column of his neck, and along the broad curve of his other shoulder. "Then we shan't," he murmured with a delicate smile. "Not if it causes you more pain." His long-fingered violist's hand stroked a path of heat over his pectoral, playfully rubbing over his nipple in a way that made the small, pale pink nub harden and wake the ever-ready lust broiling in his belly. "But I still think you could use a distraction."

I certainly would be the last to argue that. Rori merely hummed, head bowing and tilting aside as his lover scraped his teeth over the back of his neck. Gods, the familiarity of that gesture, the comfort of knowing it was only Julian's blunt teeth, sent a shiver racing through his system, goosebumps prickling at his skin.

"Let me take you," the blonde whispered on the arm of a soft moan, lips smearing against the nape of his neck. His hand melted down the contours of Rori's torso and slipped between his naked legs, raking his nails high up the inside of his thigh. "Let me take care of you, just this once." Both hands were between his legs now, massaging his thighs, no doubt entirely aware of the way his sex jumped at the notion. Julian combed his fingers back through Rori's hair, lips pressed to his ear, breaths hot and humid as they ruptured against the tender shell. "Let me fuck you, and make all those terrible memories go away."

It wasn't entirely unappealing. Novel, yes, for all the times he'd denied other lovers the opportunity to top him simply because of his scar, but this was the love of his life asking. He knew he was safe in Julian's hands. Julian knew him, knew his tells, and although he'd never before had reason to utter their safe word, Rori knew he would obey if he even so much as began to form the syllables of it with his lips.

It was funny, now that he thought about it. In the seven years they'd been together, he could count the number of times Julian had used their word on one hand and have fingers left over – Rori had never muttered it even so much as once, capable of taking anything and everything the cambion could think to do to him, within the confines of their contract. A document that remained mostly blank, save for knife, choking and urine/feces play on Julian's behalf, and the lattermost shared itself with Rori's, with Rori's addition of never being the receiving partner.

And now Julian was asking him to break his taboo, and this… This had him reciting their word in his head.

Aubergine. Aubergine…

He knew the blonde had nothing but his best interests in mind, and he was rarely wrong, so perhaps this was an avenue worth exploring – but only with him. Rori had done it to himself multiple times when he felt the need to be punished for something, but here was his love asking to penetrate him for therapeutic purposes, and he'd always possessed an immense attraction to Julian's more dominant side, so…

"Rori? You're being awfully quiet," the blonde murmured, hands smoothing themselves over his stomach again. "If the idea holds no appeal you've merely to say so, and I'll let it go." His voice softened, "I know what I'm asking for is hard for you. But I'm asking you to trust me. We can stop the moment you start feeling uncomfortable. I just think…" He scratched idly at the back of his head for a moment before his hand replaced itself. "I just think perhaps the memories would have less of a hold on you if you had something positive to associate the act with." His voice mischievously deepened. "And, trust me, I will make sure it's something positive."

Laying a single hand over Julian's own, Rori felt the glimmer of a smile tug at one corner of his mouth. "Of course I trust you, my love." He sucked in a shaky breath. "I was merely…" It whooshed back out of him in a great sigh. "Thinking."

Julian's palm lifted to lay itself against his cheek, turning his countenance towards him. His eyes were soft, his lips pliable and pillowy with their tender smile. "Stop thinking. If you could think yourself into an early grave, you would have done so ten times over by now."

Isn't that the truth. And from the mouth of babes, at that.

"Perhaps," he mused. "Perhaps we could try."

Julian nuzzled their brows together, giving him the sweetest of kisses. "And if you ever want to stop…"

"Aubergine," Rori breathed, his eyes closed as he savoured the heat radiating from his lover's flesh.

"My love, we don't even have to go that far," The blonde assured him. "The very instant you sound like you want me to stop, I will. I'm not doing this to try and re-traumatize you."

"I think… that this was a mistake."

But why, love? What did I do wrong?

"Now come," Julian urged, backing away from him to the center of the bed, where he gently patted the sheets. "Follow me."

Obeying like the lamb the memories had left him as, Rori twisted around and crawled towards his lover, slipping a hand around the back of his neck and capturing his soft mouth in a sweet, grateful kiss that Julian arched into, palms hot against his skin as the blonde cradled his face. But before he could do little more than tentatively touch his tongue to the crack in his lips, Julian pulled away, his countenance warm with affection.

"Lay down, my love. On your back, please."

Discreetly drawing in a long, meditative breath, Rori scooted himself a touch lower on the bed and laid himself down, closing his eyes as his head gradually lowered itself onto one of the pillows. Before Julian could even ask it of him, he raised his arms above his head and crossed his wrists at the place in their headboard that they usually reserved for these kinds of games. Normally it would be Julian holding his arms so gracefully to the post, but now it was Julian who stretched across the bed, turning on the lamp and revealing the svelte contours of his back, the dark pool of shadow streaking down his spine amidst the tumble of his golden hair, as he reached for the bedside table and tugged open the drawer, searching quietly for their favourite pair of handcuffs. It didn't take him long to find them, amongst the other toys and lubricants – they only had the one pair in their chambers, after all. Genuine black leather cuffs with padded insides for extended play, and a carabiner to join them to further restrict movement.

Only, this time, Julian unhooked the carabiner and replaced it with chain. He didn't want him totally immobilized, then, and Rori couldn't help but breathe a tremulous sigh of relief at that. When Sébastien had…

No. No, best not think of him, or the game would be ruined before it even started.

Despite the nerves rioting in his stomach, he couldn't help but purr when Julian returned with a sensual smile to cuff his wrists. Couldn't help but be aroused by his lover's naked body as he straddled Rori's waist, muscular but lean from dancing both on his own and on the pole, the unending stretch of smooth, creamy skin and perked pink nipples. Couldn't help the way his prick twitched at the feeling of those delicate, eloquent hands fastening the cuffs around his wrists, knowing exactly how tight to cinch them before Julian sat back on his thighs for a moment, eyeing them with mute satisfaction while Rori's arms relaxed as much as the cuffs would let him. Once more, Julian stretched his long, beautiful body to the bedside table, this time retreating with a reinforced blackout blindfold.

"Too much?" The cambion asked with a playful smile, biting his lower lip as he dangled the blindfold from his long, slender fingers.

Again, he stomped down the nerves waging war in his guts, fluttering madly through his veins and causing his empty heart to jackhammer against his ribs, pumping blood that was quite simply not there. What would he see, if he could not see Julian? Would he see the inside of that room at the inn? The horrible emptiness of Sébastien's expression, picking at his nails with a knife, as he begged and pleaded with him not to commit this most heinous of crimes? The way he'd viciously bit at Sébastien's lower lip and earned a backhanded blow for his defiance?

No. He would focus wholly on the sensations of Julian's ministrations, and imagine his impossibly gorgeous face while he played with him. That wasn't so hard, and his prick gave another jump at the notion. Perhaps being on the receiving end would even feel good, knowing his body and well-being were in his lover's tender, careful hands.

So, taking another shuddering breath, he nodded. The blonde leaned in for a long, slow kiss, with only their lips making contact, adding pressure, backing away, returning with hunger burning anew. His eyes were still closed when Julian finally pulled back and mindfully tied the blindfold around his head, cautious of catching any hair in his knots.

Rori could sense him pulling away, sitting back on his thighs, his weight a soothing blanket over his mind and fretful nerves. "Comfortable?" He asked.

Rori could only nod, his mouth parched, his tongue reduced to an old piece of boot leather, an arid knot tied in his throat. He couldn't have complained even if he wanted to.

"Good," Julian purred, lowering himself to elbows braced on either side of Rori's head – his tapered fingers carding through oxblood locks of hair – to kiss him again, more thoroughly this time, his tongue sneaking into Rori's mouth and teasing his own into action. Gods, he tasted like the chamomile tea he so loved, the taste of it soft and soothing even though he was tasting it second-hand. Chamomile and smooth, buttery biscuits, a snack in which he must have been indulging while he read. He wanted to cradle Julian's face, to kiss him even deeper, but his hands jerked to a stop the minute the chain went taut, and a glimmer of frustration echoed through him.

But that was part of the fun, wasn't it?

He could have broken that length of chain with barely a thought if he wanted to, but he held himself back, both mentally and physically, and merely gripped the chain instead, careful not to crush it to mangled metal links in his fingers. Julian nibbled gently on his lower lip, and Rori was helpless against the shaky sigh that escaped him when the blonde's mouth abandoned him – not for long, though. It came back to press a line of kisses to his jaw as smooth hands slid down to his chest, massaging his pecs for a long moment before he felt those naughty fingers tweaking at his nipples, pinching, twisting, pulling at them as his prick twitched, and hardened beneath the weight sprawled over his prone body.

"Gods, I wish that I could touch you," Rori breathily sighed, his fingers flexing around the chain links keeping him bound.

"Not this time," Julian sang softly, nudging against his mouth for another deep, fervent kiss, tongues slipping together before parting and falling into an intricate dance.

Rori felt Julian's moan against his tongue, prompting him to lift his head off the pillow and meld their mouths together even further. Gods, he longed to rake his fingers through his lover's hair, stroking and gripping and combing through the soft mane of which he took such attentive care. His cock jumped again, flushing with blood and stiffening until his tip was resting against the small of Julian's back.

The blonde merely chuffed a muted laugh against his mouth at the feeling of it there, and it took everything Rori had not to squirm his hips to feel the soft friction of skin against skin. Instead, he growled and hungrily lunged forward into the kiss, nipping at Julian's lips before soothing the small bites with his tongue and lapping back into his lover's hot, wet mouth. Meanwhile, those warm hands slipped from his cheeks, down his throat, to settle on his chest, drawing teasing little circles around his nipples before flicking at them with his thumbs and gently pinching them. Rori could do little more than groan into his lover's mouth, fingers flexing restlessly against their confines.

They kissed for what felt like an eternity, warming Rori's blood in his veins until his lover broke away and, fingers drawing absentminded patterns on his cheeks, murmured softly against his lips, "I'm going to be so good to you, my love. You'll never think of him again."

It was already hard to focus on his rapist's countenance, on the trauma inflicted upon him, when the confidence in Julian's words slipped like silk against his ears, making him hungrily yearn for nothing but more kisses, more touches to encourage that lusting fog to consume his mind whole. Julian, on the other hand, slid down his body, pressing his cock down between his legs with his weight – dragging his sac and growing tumescence over him – before shifting yet further down and making a small sound of delight when it sprung back up and slapped against Rori's stomach.

"I see someone is already happy to see me," he smiled with a soft laugh, and the next thing Rori knew, he could feel his lover's hand cradling him, pillowy lips kissing up the length of his shaft before daintily sucking the crown into the hot, wet confines of his mouth. Another pulse of heat hardened him yet further, making his cock buck as Julian began lazily bobbing up and down its length, lapping at him with his soft, slick tongue while his hair tumbled forward to pool between his legs, tickling the sensitive insides of his thighs with every move.

Christ, he wanted to see him, wanted to watch him suck on his engorged cock with fingers tangled in his hair, but his hand slipped away, and Rori could only imagine that Julian was touching himself at the same time, urging a low, throaty moan to vibrate against him. Could only imagine him languidly stroking his own prick, slender, elegant and flushed, or perhaps even reaching further back to swirl a finger in the self-made moisture coating his hole. Either way, it made him bite his lip with yearning. And when he felt his lover's fingertips brush against his lips, he happily took them into his mouth as Julian gave a tight, hard suck on his cock, no doubt hollowing out his cheeks with the effort, dragging a guttural groan from Rori as he suckled and tongued Julian's digits, coating them in his saliva.

Julian was still sucking on him when his fingers slipped free, and when Rori felt them gingerly slide over his hole, he pulled his legs up with a shiver and spread them wide. There was a pop as Julian pulled off of him, baring him to cooler air of their bedroom. "Mm," he purred. "You always taste so good." He rubbed a finger over Rori's hole, spreading his saliva and exerting the barest amount of pressure, causing a breath to hiss in through his clenched teeth. "How does this feel?"

"Strange," Rori gasped as Julian pressed harder. Even so, there was no denying how it made his moist cock jerk against his stomach, stiffening yet further at the sensation with pre-cum threading between the two. He shouldn't be this sensitive, and yet every time Julian swirled his finger around the tight ring of muscle, part of Rori wanted to squirm, biting back tiny moans and trapping them, silenced, behind his teeth. He wasn't even entirely sure whether he wanted to squirm into Julian's finger or away from it as its pad kept pressing, and pressing, until Rori felt the barest tip of his digit sink into him, and wrenched his body into an arch with a gasp.

Julian crawled up the length of his body again, seeming to know exactly what he needed as he started mouthing the hard pink point of one nipple as the finger vanished and began to tease the other, pinching and pulling and making Rori so goddamn hard his prick was begging for even the slightest of touches. Pulling his teeth off a nipple with a moan, Julian's voice was terse and husky as he groaned, "I am going to fucking wreck you, my love."

Before Rori had even the slightest inkling of what was happening, he felt Julian's mouth on his cock again, taking him deep, this time… So goddamn deep that Rori gasped when he felt the head of his cock seating itself in Julian's throat. The pressure was incredible as he swallowed around him, backing off for a hard, desperate suckling, his head bobbing fast and hungry before he took him into his throat again. It was impossible not to thrust his hips up, wrenching a choking gag from his lover before Julian opened up his throat and swallowed him with a groan that vibrated against his cock's swollen head. Feverishly warm fingers cradled his balls, already drawn tight to the base of Rori's sex, dragging a finger over their crease and gently massaging them in his palm.

Lips lax, eyes shut behind his blindfold as he dropped his head back against the pillows and arched his neck, Rori whispered a breathy, "Fuck…" while Julian continued his oral ministrations. It wasn't long before he pulled off of him with another pop, gripping the base of Rori's flushed cock to lick the clear pre-cum leaking from his tip and taking a moment to squirm the point of his hot, clever little tongue into his slit, jerking another shudder from Rori's spine.

Julian vanished almost completely for a moment before he returned to latch his mouth onto a nipple, abusing it in the most perfect way with his teeth and tongue while roughly kneading his other pectoral. Pulling away to smooth the flat of his tongue over the aching nub, he could feel Julian's hot breath ghosting up his neck until his lover's lips were brushing against the delicate shell of his ear, a hand carding through his hair and tugging it at the same time. "I hope you haven't made any plans for tomorrow, my love, because after I'm through with you, you'll be a boneless puddle of gelatin completely without the ability to walk." Wicked teeth pulled at his earlobe before disappearing. "Are you ready?"

The question dragged all of his nerves to the surface, once again, reminded of precisely what they were doing, that it wasn't Julian's hot vice for a body that would be sinking down his prick, but Julian's that would, in all likelihood, be pounding into him. His heart began racing with more than just eager arousal, and he forced himself to swallow the arid lump in his throat.

When he didn't answer, Julian paused, the domineering edge in his voice softening. "Are you ready?"

Rori's throat clicked as he forced himself to swallow, a tight, jerky nod gripping his head, and fought to ignore the way Sébastien's face suddenly flickered through his mind like a flash bomb, twisted, grotesque with malice, his eyes cold chips of ice in his countenance. The way he'd smeared his lips over Rori's cheek and uttered, "Now everyone will know whose whore you really are," before his red-hot signet ring had stabbed itself into the flesh between his legs and Rori had screamed behind the hand crushed against his mouth. How he'd thrashed like a frantic animal in his bindings, to no avail.

But there was no pain here. Merely the soft pressure of Julian's knowing fingers massaging the scar tissue on his perineum, kneading into that space that stimulated his prostate from the outside. And that was enough to flood his brain with pleasure, a moan locking itself in his throat as his brows furrowed and he squirmed around the heat that flushed his cock and balls, hands flexing restlessly.

"Mmm, I love how responsive you are to this," Julian purred. His fingers disappeared, Rori's keen ears perking at the sound of a cap popping open, recognizing the sound of their tube of lube for what it was and what it meant as Julian coated his digits and momentarily tossed the tube aside. "Now spread your legs nice and wide," the blonde coached, and Rori did exactly as he was ordered, fighting down the white-hot shame as Julian slicked firm fingers over his perineum, gliding over his hole.

A breath punched itself out through Rori's nose as the blonde circled the tight ring of muscle, always exercising a most particular amount of force that made him readjust his hips for better access, toes squirming against the bed sheets and his breaths coming heavy and hard. It was when Julian gently sank a fingertip through his hole that he shuddered at the presence penetrating him, the unusual fullness that he hadn't experienced in nearly four hundred years, but the blonde slowly circled it around his rim, sinking deeper into him, past the first wall of resistance before it popped into him with a groan. His head tipped back with a breath, lolling onto his shoulder, lips parted and brows furrowed with pleasure, heat washing up into his face.

Tan irises flitted up to him. "Are you all right?"

Rori could do little more than hum his concession, giving a tight nod as he squirmed against their bedsheets, his fingers flexing around the chain in their grasp.

Julian pulled his hand back for a moment, only a moment, before two digits began circling his rim, sending a wash of shivers down his spine before they slid themselves into his body, wrenching a tiny gasp from his lips. He locked a keening moan behind his teeth as Julian gingerly thrust them in and out, his thumb maintaining a steady pressure on his perineum, and Rori couldn't help but arch against the pillows, lips caught between his teeth as those fingers crooked themselves and brushed teasingly against his prostate.

He'd always found himself to be something of a stoic lover, not especially prone to vocalizations as his partners frequently were – or were, at least, by the time Rori got his hands on them – but this… This squirming and moaning business was new to him, and his entire body flushed, another pulse of pre-cum threading its way down to his stomach as his cock bucked, with the knowledge that Julian was doing this to him. Sweet, sublimely submissive Julian, with his eager body and welcoming, self-lubricating hole, so accustomed to riding him or being pounded into the sheets, swaying with his ankles tied far above him on their sex swing in the West Wing or being fucked in ballet boots – blindfolded and gagged – arms tied behind him and his delicious ass high in the air over the furniture. That was, of course, not to say that Julian couldn't be dominating when he wished to be, for he could with great efficacy, but even then, no matter how domineering he decided to be – whether he had Rori on a leash and collar or bound from head to foot, utterly helpless – he was still the receiving partner between the two of them.

But, christ, what he would've freely disposed of to be able to tug his knees back to his chest to give Julian better access to himself, the way he'd done so often with-

No. No. Don't think of him.

Calloused fingers were crushing his jaw as it was lifted for watering emerald eyes to meet ice blue, nothing of his lover's feelings left but an ugly, vicious satisfaction. He snorted, and thrust his face away as though it disgusted him.

No. Don't. Don't let him in. Don't let him ruin this moment.

Julian had slipped three fingers into him, gently thrusting and teasing his gland – producing heady shudders and shivering breaths – as the blonde kissed his way down his neck, breaths heavy and his cock a leaking, molten rod against Rori's thigh. It wasn't long before his lover turned his face into a hungry meeting of mouths, withdrawing his hand and resettling himself, notching his cock against Rori's hole.

"Are you ready?" Julian breathed against his mouth.

Rori endeavored not to whimper as he nodded, tight and short, while the pressure against him increased. His muscles tensed in reflex, biceps bulging and tendons standing out sharp beneath the pale skin of his hands as they clenched around the chains.

"Relax, baby," Julian whispered, carding his fingers gingerly through his hair, easing the nerves that had begun prickling with anxiety and the first beginning traces of panic. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Eyes closing behind the blindfold, Rori leaned into his hand and did as his lover bade him, forcing himself to let the tension ease from his body, melting down into the bed as his legs sagged open yet further, earning praise and a soft kiss on the side of his knee from Julian.

The blonde leaned back and teasingly swept the head of his cock very deliberately up and down over Rori's hole – earning another buck and another pulse of pre-cum – before notching it back over his opening and carefully – oh, so carefully – began pressing in. The instant Rori parted around him, he gave a sharp exhale, and bore down, welcoming the blonde further in. And the feeling of him tenderly guiding himself in, stretching Rori and filling him in a way he'd not experienced in centuries, made him both clench his teeth and burn with arousal.

When Julian was finally fully seated, pushing himself in to his hilt with a tiny thrust of his hips, the blonde sagged down over him with a guttural, quivering groan. "Oh, gods, you feel so good. I can't even-"

Rori teasingly clenched around him. A harsh, tremulous breath burst through Julian's lips, and he could hear the smile in his strained voice.

"Oh, you little bastard. Is that how we're going to play this?"

"As I seem to recall, you never forbade me from being cheeky."

"Perhaps I should have. Perhaps I will." The last word was spoken in time with a long, fast thrust that had stars blinking before his blindfolded eyes. "Perhaps," Julian mused, leaning against his mouth, "I'll shut you up entirely and you'll be nothing but a needy, writhing slut around my cock."

Rori groaned at the obscenity and panted out a breath, silently begging for his lover's mouth only to receive a single finger pressed against his lips as Julian pulled back out and slowly guided himself in once more. He began doing this repeatedly, withdrawing only to rapidly thrust the head of his prick back in, and the sensation of being breached in such a fast, repeating manner made a high, breathy moan slither from his lips. It wasn't long before Julian thrust in slow and deep, and began his short, quick thrusts, and in desperation, Rori lifted his bent legs – Julian dutifully wrapped his arms under his knees – and punched out a gasp when his lover's prick nailed his prostate.

"Did you like that, my love, my heart?" The blonde panted, speeding up both his thrusts and the force of them, repeatedly pounding against that special spot that Rori had entirely forgotten about and how it made him want to sing and to sob and to die. He wished for the most fleeting of moments that Julian had seen fit to use a gag on him as well, so tempting it was to find something to bite down on, to smother his cries of elation. But he couldn't bite Julian, for fear of drawing blood. He couldn't even bite his own knuckles. He both loved and hated the sensations it sent soaring through him, the tingling of his spine, the way it made him squirm like a virgin –

Another harsh slap to his arse made him whimper again, writhing around on the straw bed in a desperate effort to get away from the thing that made his body sing with pleasure and flush hot with shame. He wanted nothing more than to bite at his attacker, claw at him with the hands straining against their bonds, but it merely served to tighten them yet further, and his fingertips were already tingling from the lack of circulation. He would have been spitting curses at the man doing this to him, the man who was forcing him to pant and wriggle like a bitch in heat. He hated the way his sex was so reactive to every forceful slam against that delicate thing inside of him, the way he was leaking hot pre-come onto his belly. Though his eyes had been blinded by a thick swathe of fabric, he knew – he just knew – that his rapist was wearing an arrogant, twisted smile, baring his teeth like a wolf at the youth beneath him, squirming in protest against the pleasure. He kicked out at him and instantly received a backhanded blow to the face for his trouble, black and white stars dancing before his eyes, whilst Sébastien continued rutting into him.

Julian's weight on his legs dragged him from the memory, interrupted by his lover's hot, harsh breaths and the hands clamped around his hips, lifting him with the impossible ease borne of a cambion so the blonde might continue his assault, hard and fast.

No, not assault, he'd consented to this. Julian had asked and Rori had agreed…

He wasn't even aware of the tears that had been gathering in his eyes until one seeped down from his inner corner, carving a wet path down his tender skin until it was absorbed into the blindfold. Deaf to his own cries of pleasure as Julian ravaged him, biting the insides of his knees, leaning down to thrust deep and slow until he could scrape his teeth over Rori's exposed neck with a low, drawn-out groan, he could think only of the time Sébastien had violated him like this.

"Good little gentry boy, taking my fat prick like the whore you really are."

Panic began fluttering in his throat, beating its wings against his pulse like dozens of butterflies trying to flee the trauma welling up within him. Another strike to his prostate made him arch severely against the bed, body twisting with agony, a harsh gasp rasping against his throat.

"Julian-"

He was utterly helpless against the way Sébastien braced his fists against the bedding and fucked him as roughly as he ever had, as though he were endeavoring to turn him inside out, grunts and snarls and degradations escaping from his lips. His long, loose blonde hair tickled Rori's face with every movement, but all he could focus on was the hot blood leaking from the corner of his lips, seeping from one of his nostrils. His face ached from where Sébastien's rings had struck bone or scraped flesh. It was obvious that his rapist was lost to the pleasure of taking every last ounce of dignity from him, when suddenly a hand closed around his throat.

Lost to the memories playing themselves through his head in blinding detail, he barely even realized that the blonde had pressed a hand against the base of his neck, ringing it as a necklace might as Julian's head lifted itself, countenance a lax mask of ecstasy while he fucked him, the frenetic slapping of flesh echoing obscenely through their chamber.

"Julian-" Rori choked out again, panic rising to the surface and quivering through his voice as his lover's thrusts slowed. "I can't- I need to see you, my love, I need to see you…"

Panting heavily, his chest, throat and face flushed with pleasure, Julian finally stopped and a fiercely trembling hand ripped off his blindfold. The Englishman immediately fell to his elbows on top of him, cradling his face, thumbs stroking his cheekbones, while Rori tried to blink the tears from his eyes and eradicate the memories from his mind. "What is it, my love? What's wrong?"

Greeted by the sight of his kind, concerned, adoring countenance, his blonde waves wild as they framed his face, Rori allowed his lids to sag shut again, breaths coming in tremulous heaves in and out through his nose while he nuzzled his brow against Julian's, grounding himself in the feeling of the sweat on his skin, the way it made locks of his hair cling to his forehead. He needn't say anything at all for Julian to start hushing him, pressing tender kisses to his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids and his brow, a warm hand smoothing oxblood strands back and carding itself delicately through his hair.

When it came, the blonde's voice was little more than a whisper against his mouth. "Do you need to stop?"

Attempting to swallow past the hand-shaped noose around his throat, Rori forced his mind to remain in the present as he gave a tender shake of his head. Julian's sex was still inside him, turgid and throbbing and filling him in a way he'd not found pleasure in in… gods, centuries. He uncuffed himself with a mere thought and smoothed his hands back over Julian's cheeks, drawing his hair away from his face as those tan eyes studied his own, celadon and unsteady. "No," he murmured, voice still tremulous as his touch. He tried to swallow again. "I just needed to see you. I need to see you."

Tan eyes softened in understanding before they sagged shut and Julian leaned in for a long, soft kiss, cradling his face in his hands, radiant with heat. "Of course," he breathed. "Whatever you need, my heart. Do you want to switch? You have absolutely no idea how wet I am for you right now."

While Julian's words tempted him towards the safer path, the familiar path, part of Rori's mind was determined to see their current arrangement through to the end. He wanted to feel Julian come inside of him, that hot, wet rush filling him to the brim. Instead, he stretched a single long arm down the blonde's back and easily found his hole, and, true to his words, the cambion was soaked with his body's self-lubricant, so much so that Rori needn't worry a moment as he slid two fingers inside of him, wrenching a shudder from his body. The blonde raised his hips and pushed himself back onto the fingers fucking him, his expression shuttered with bliss as he moaned.

"Oh," Julian groaned on a breath, his cock bucking inside Rori's body. "Don't tease me like this, Rori, you know I can't stand it."

Rori let a tiny smirk form on his lips as he added a third finger and stretched the blonde's hole wide with ease, the muscle soft and elastic with arousal, jerking a gasp from his swollen pink lips.

"Oh, gods, either fuck me or-" The words bit themselves off as his fingertips brushed his lover's prostate. Julian's voice was higher when he continued, nearly keening. "Let me finish fucking you. I could ride you for hours like this." The muscles clenched around Rori's fingers, trapping him in the hot, wet vice of his body.

Rori leaned up to his lover's bejewelled ear. "Or," he murmured on a breath, "you finish in me, and then we wrestle a touch, and I give you the greatest orgasm you've ever had in this bed." He dropped his voice a notch, purring directly into his ear. "Your eager little hole is all but sucking me in, dear one. It's practically begging for my cock. But first…" Slipping his fingers out of his lover's body, he playfully, and gently, clamped his muscles shut on Julian's own prick, digging his fingers into the soft, fleshy meat of Julian's muscular ass, and urged him to start thrusting again.

When he dutifully obeyed, Rori dropped his head back on the pillow and watched Julian's countenance, filling up with primal urgency once more, and tried to ignore the voice snarling at him from the back of his mind. He could still feel that bastard's hands around his neck, threatening to asphyxiate him, but at least, now, he had Julian's sweetly unbridled pleasure to watch, unfurling beneath the flesh of his face, as his pace eagerly picked up and Rori closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensation of Julian slowly losing his mind to ecstasy. He could come from this.

He could, and he would.

"And now the entire world will know who's whore you really are."

-x-

To Be Continued…

-x-

So, like it? Hate it? Wish it would spontaneously combust? C'mon, leave me a review and tell me everything! I don't bite, I promise!

Happy Holidays the second? I know, two updates in one go, go me! Also, apologies (?) for this chapter being mostly smut. It's important, I swear! Especially the second bit, although I may have fucked that part up a touch. Anyways, Happy Holidays everyone, and happy New Year!