The Tomorrow Series Fanfiction: Who Will Lead Us? - Chapter 1
This is the first chapter in a fanfiction of The Tomorrow Series by theun4givables. This chapter is NSFW.
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“Christ, that was a long day,” Savin muttered as Jazz opened the door to his apartment.
“At least it's Friday night?” Jazz said.
Savin pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “That bastard Mitchel --”
Jazz cut him off. “Can we not talk about Mitchel now? We don't have a lot of time.”
Not giving him any time to protest, Jazz pressed his lips to Savin's and pushed him up against the wall. Savin didn't hesitate to open his mouth, quickly deepening the kiss. He wrapped his arms around Jazz. The younger man shivered at the contact. Before Savin could think about relieving Jazz of his clothing, Savin's phone rang.
“Not now,” he moaned. It was probably Mari. He really should at least check to see who it was. Grumbling, Savin broke the kiss and grabbed the phone out of his pocket. His wife was, in fact, calling him.
Jazz pouted when Savin put the phone to his ear. The pout didn't last long, though, as he moved to unbuckle Savin's belt. Savin nodded and Jazz pulled everything down, exposing him.
“Mari?” Savin said, careful to keep his breathing even as Jazz took him in his mouth.
“Where are you?” she asked. Her voice was shrill, obviously distressed.
“Still at the Palace,” he answered. Why did she sound so upset?
Mari cried, “We - we have a date tonight! Danni's with the sitter and everything.”
Jazz slid up and down his length, sending shivers of pleasure up his spine even as his stomach sank. Right, Mari had decided Friday night was their “date night,” part of her plan to rekindle their lagging sex life.
“Right,” he mumbled.
“So where are you?” she asked.
The way Jazz worked him made it difficult to speak, but he managed, “Council meeting ran late, Mari.”
“You - promised Friday nights would be our night, said there wouldn't be any late Council meetings.” It almost sounded like Mari were crying.
The building ache between his legs prevented Savin from devoting his full attention to allaying his wife's distress.
He said, “I know I promised. Sorry.”
Jazz must have heard Savin say “I promised” because his blue eyes glinted mischievously. He bit down on Savin's cock, causing him to cry out in pain and surprise.
Mari heard. “Are you alright?”
“F-fine,” Savin stammered.
“You don't sound fine. Did you hurt yourself?” she said.
He muttered, “I'm fine, Mari. Just dropped a textbook on my foot. Don't worry about me, okay?”
The pain from Jazz's bite only made Savin's ache worse. He was getting close now, and didn't know if he could keep himself quiet enough when he came.
Mari murmured, “If you say so. You're coming home soon, right?”
“Yeah, I'll be home soon. Look, I got to go. See you later,” Savin said.
He hung up, not giving Mari a chance to reply. Moments later, he came. Pleasure flooded his body as it tensed and released. Savin moaned, free to be as loud as he needed now that he was no longer on the phone with his wife.
Savin sighed with satisfaction as Jazz let him go. The younger man stood up, smirking. “Enjoyed yourself, huh?”
He nodded while scrambling to put his pants back on.
Jazz pouted again. “Do you really have to leave now?”
“I'm afraid so,” he said.
* * *
Savin turned the key in the lock to his and Mari's apartment, hoping she wouldn't be too upset with him. She was right by the door when he entered, apparently waiting for him. He tried to ignore the way his stomach sank when he saw her.
Mari smiled. “I know how you can make it up to me for being out so late.”
His stomach sank further. Savin shifted uncomfortably on his feet. After Jazz, he didn't have the inclination or the energy to sleep with Mari now. Still, he couldn't exactly ignore her, not if he didn't want her getting suspicious.
Savin said, “I know what I'd like to do to you.” He hoped he sounded more enthusiastic than he felt.
Briefly, Mari looked almost puzzled, but the expression evaporated when Savin leaned in and kissed her. Unlike with Jazz, he didn't deepen the kiss, but it was seemingly enough for Mari. He broke the kiss and headed towards the bedroom. His wife followed, close enough for him to feel her presence.
“So what do you want to do to me?” she murmured.
He looked over his shoulder. “Let me show you.”
Savin opened the door to the bedroom and gestured for Mari to enter, which she did. Normally this would be the time to sneak a peek at her ass, but Savin was too preoccupied with the look of disappointment on Jazz's face when he said he had to leave. He shook his head to clear it and followed Mari into the bedroom. Now was the time to concentrate on his wife.
He could do this; he just had to put Jazz out of his mind. Savin put his arms around Mari's waist and kissed the back of her neck, trying not to imagine it was Jazz whom he held, trying not to imagine it was Jazz who shivered at his touch. Gently, he spun Mari around and lowered her onto the bed. She kicked off her heels, smiling up at him eagerly.
Guilt twisted his stomach as he tried to return that lustful smile. Mari's eyes showed hints of a question. He answered by pulling off her pants and removing her panties. Thankfully, that seemed enough answer for her. Savin couldn't help thinking about Jazz, even now when he spread Mari's thighs apart and lowered his face between her legs.
Jazz wouldn't leave his mind. Savin couldn't help comparing how they tasted, how very different it was. Even the noises they made as he worked were nothing alike. Memories of Savin's encounters with Jazz tried to superimpose themselves over this encounter with his wife. He closed his eyes, willing the images away. He had Mari; shouldn't that be enough, at least for right now?
It wasn't enough, not even when she came. Her cry of pleasure only made Savin think of Jazz's cries. When he locked lips with her, he thought of Jazz's lips and how they felt. Everything about Mari just made him think of Jazz, no matter how much he tried to concentrate on his wife. Looking her in the eye proved nearly impossible because of this, but he forced himself to do it so she wouldn't get suspicious.
Savin didn't know how much longer he could do this. It seemed every time with Mari got a little bit worse with how much he thought of Jazz. That was part of the reason he avoided getting intimate with her; it only widened the distance between them, at least in Savin's mind.
* * *
“Your tie is crooked,” Jazz said. “Here, let me fix it.”
Savin sighed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He never could tie a tie, and today, of all days, he needed to look his best for the upcoming Council meeting.
He shiveedr as Jazz started fixing his tie. With the way the younger man blushed, Savin thought he must have noticed.
“There - it's perfect,” Jazz murmured.
It was, and it had better be. Savin sighed again. “Are you ready, Jazz?” he asked.
“To vote on who will lead us? No, I'm not ready,” he muttered. “You know I don't want to be Emperor. Why did I even suggest myself? I'm only twenty-two years old, for fuck's sake!”
Savin knew how reluctant Jazz was. “You're the best man for the job, that's why. If that bastard Mitchel gets it --”
Jazz grumbled, “I know. I know how bad it would be if Mitchel got it, but it's just - just not something I want.”
Savin offered a small, apologetic smile. “That's why you should be Emperor. Because you don't want it. You won't let the power go to your head. Besides, I'll be there to help as your co-Emperor.”
Sighing, Jazz said, “I know. I guess we better go in now, right?”
“Yes, we should,” Savin agreed.
They entered the Council room and took their seats. Savin glanced at Ryin's chair, his stomach clenching with nerves. Mitchel walked into the room and took his seat. He smirked at Jazz and Savin, who pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
Eventually, the rest of the Council filtered in. Mitchel wasted no time once everyone was seated. He said, “So, we all know why we're here, I assume?”
Stephen asked, “We're going to vote on the new Emperor, am I right?” He sounded almost like he weren't sure why they were meeting now.
“Of course we are,” Mitchel muttered. “And we all know the choices. Me or - Jazz, with Savin as co-Emperor. Are we ready, then?”
Everyone agreed they were ready, but Savin couldn't get himself to relax. He knew just how much rested on this vote, which was bound to be close. Savin wrote down his vote for himself and Jazz on the slip of provided paper. When he dropped the paper into the collection box, he almost missed the slot because his hand shook so badly.
Mitchel pulled the first vote out of the box and read it, his face scrunched up slightly. “Councilman Callahan.”
Savin couldn't let go of his tension yet. That was only one vote for Jazz, and they needed a majority.
The next vote was also for Jazz. Savin felt his spirits lift, just slightly, his hands shaking a tiny bit less.
Each time, Mitchel pulled the votes out of the box slowly, like he were savoring the tension Unfortunately, the third vote belonged to Mitchel, as did the one after that. Savin's chest tightened with each mention of Mitchel's name.
“Councilman Foraker,” read Mitchel, a tiny smirk on his face. So, the fifth vote went to him. That meant three for him and only two for Jazz so far.
Mitchel read the sixth vote. “Councilman Callahan.”
Savin's heart hammered in his chest. One vote remained to decide who would lead them. It had to be Jazz.
With infuriating slowness, Mitchel reached into the box and removed the fateful seventh vote. He unfolded the paper deliberately while Savin's hands shook the worst they had yet.
Mitchel's eyes brightened. He smiled triumphantly.
Oh no, Savin thought. It couldn't be. The last vote had to belong to Jazz. Savin's chest tightened painfully.
“Councilman Foraker,” Mitchel read, his smile now a full-fledged victorious grin.
Mitchel announced, “It seems you all decided well. I am your new Emperor. Shall we continue the meeting now?” He smirked at Savin.
Horror enveloped Savin. It couldn't be. How could Mitchel have won it?
As the Council meeting continued, Savin noticed Jazz seemed awfully twitchy. When he tried to offer an apologetic, comforting smile, Jazz actually looked away. Savin couldn't help feeling like something was off with Jazz. The younger man kept fidgeting with his papers and missing his cue whenever anybody asked him his opinion.
When the meeting finally ended, Savin nearly sighed with relief. That had been the worst Council in memory. He couldn't even remember anything they had discussed, and the meeting had just finished. The sick feeling in Savin's stomach wouldn't go away. Judging by Jazz's behavior, the younger man felt even worse about the outcome than Savin did.
Slowly, the other Council members left the room. The only people who remained were Mitchel, Savin and Jazz.
Mitchel smirked. “So sorry you lost. I guess the better candidate won, yes?”
“I'm sure you like to think so,” Savin muttered.
He said, “Just remember, Savin, even you need to show me the respect due your Emperor.”
With that, Mitchel left.
Savin walked over to Jazz, who still sat in his chair. He could see how Jazz trembled. The younger man looked like he might be sick over his papers.
“Are you alright?” Savin murmured.
Jazz looked away from him. “I'm - I'm fine.”
Savin didn't believe him at all. “You're not fine, Jazz.” He placed a hand on Jazz's shoulder only to have him pull away.
“What's the matter? You can tell me,” Savin said.
Jazz buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook, and Savin thought he could hear him start to cry.
“I c-can't tell you, Savin. You - you'll kill me,” he sobbed.
The meaning behind his words clicked. Savin knew exactly what Jazz was implying. His heart stopped.
“You - voted for Mitchel?” he asked.
Jazz's continued sobs provided Savin with all the answer he needed.
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written for writerverse Table of Doom - Table Alpha #6. Friday Night
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“Christ, that was a long day,” Savin muttered as Jazz opened the door to his apartment.
“At least it's Friday night?” Jazz said.
Savin pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “That bastard Mitchel --”
Jazz cut him off. “Can we not talk about Mitchel now? We don't have a lot of time.”
Not giving him any time to protest, Jazz pressed his lips to Savin's and pushed him up against the wall. Savin didn't hesitate to open his mouth, quickly deepening the kiss. He wrapped his arms around Jazz. The younger man shivered at the contact. Before Savin could think about relieving Jazz of his clothing, Savin's phone rang.
“Not now,” he moaned. It was probably Mari. He really should at least check to see who it was. Grumbling, Savin broke the kiss and grabbed the phone out of his pocket. His wife was, in fact, calling him.
Jazz pouted when Savin put the phone to his ear. The pout didn't last long, though, as he moved to unbuckle Savin's belt. Savin nodded and Jazz pulled everything down, exposing him.
“Mari?” Savin said, careful to keep his breathing even as Jazz took him in his mouth.
“Where are you?” she asked. Her voice was shrill, obviously distressed.
“Still at the Palace,” he answered. Why did she sound so upset?
Mari cried, “We - we have a date tonight! Danni's with the sitter and everything.”
Jazz slid up and down his length, sending shivers of pleasure up his spine even as his stomach sank. Right, Mari had decided Friday night was their “date night,” part of her plan to rekindle their lagging sex life.
“Right,” he mumbled.
“So where are you?” she asked.
The way Jazz worked him made it difficult to speak, but he managed, “Council meeting ran late, Mari.”
“You - promised Friday nights would be our night, said there wouldn't be any late Council meetings.” It almost sounded like Mari were crying.
The building ache between his legs prevented Savin from devoting his full attention to allaying his wife's distress.
He said, “I know I promised. Sorry.”
Jazz must have heard Savin say “I promised” because his blue eyes glinted mischievously. He bit down on Savin's cock, causing him to cry out in pain and surprise.
Mari heard. “Are you alright?”
“F-fine,” Savin stammered.
“You don't sound fine. Did you hurt yourself?” she said.
He muttered, “I'm fine, Mari. Just dropped a textbook on my foot. Don't worry about me, okay?”
The pain from Jazz's bite only made Savin's ache worse. He was getting close now, and didn't know if he could keep himself quiet enough when he came.
Mari murmured, “If you say so. You're coming home soon, right?”
“Yeah, I'll be home soon. Look, I got to go. See you later,” Savin said.
He hung up, not giving Mari a chance to reply. Moments later, he came. Pleasure flooded his body as it tensed and released. Savin moaned, free to be as loud as he needed now that he was no longer on the phone with his wife.
Savin sighed with satisfaction as Jazz let him go. The younger man stood up, smirking. “Enjoyed yourself, huh?”
He nodded while scrambling to put his pants back on.
Jazz pouted again. “Do you really have to leave now?”
“I'm afraid so,” he said.
* * *
Savin turned the key in the lock to his and Mari's apartment, hoping she wouldn't be too upset with him. She was right by the door when he entered, apparently waiting for him. He tried to ignore the way his stomach sank when he saw her.
Mari smiled. “I know how you can make it up to me for being out so late.”
His stomach sank further. Savin shifted uncomfortably on his feet. After Jazz, he didn't have the inclination or the energy to sleep with Mari now. Still, he couldn't exactly ignore her, not if he didn't want her getting suspicious.
Savin said, “I know what I'd like to do to you.” He hoped he sounded more enthusiastic than he felt.
Briefly, Mari looked almost puzzled, but the expression evaporated when Savin leaned in and kissed her. Unlike with Jazz, he didn't deepen the kiss, but it was seemingly enough for Mari. He broke the kiss and headed towards the bedroom. His wife followed, close enough for him to feel her presence.
“So what do you want to do to me?” she murmured.
He looked over his shoulder. “Let me show you.”
Savin opened the door to the bedroom and gestured for Mari to enter, which she did. Normally this would be the time to sneak a peek at her ass, but Savin was too preoccupied with the look of disappointment on Jazz's face when he said he had to leave. He shook his head to clear it and followed Mari into the bedroom. Now was the time to concentrate on his wife.
He could do this; he just had to put Jazz out of his mind. Savin put his arms around Mari's waist and kissed the back of her neck, trying not to imagine it was Jazz whom he held, trying not to imagine it was Jazz who shivered at his touch. Gently, he spun Mari around and lowered her onto the bed. She kicked off her heels, smiling up at him eagerly.
Guilt twisted his stomach as he tried to return that lustful smile. Mari's eyes showed hints of a question. He answered by pulling off her pants and removing her panties. Thankfully, that seemed enough answer for her. Savin couldn't help thinking about Jazz, even now when he spread Mari's thighs apart and lowered his face between her legs.
Jazz wouldn't leave his mind. Savin couldn't help comparing how they tasted, how very different it was. Even the noises they made as he worked were nothing alike. Memories of Savin's encounters with Jazz tried to superimpose themselves over this encounter with his wife. He closed his eyes, willing the images away. He had Mari; shouldn't that be enough, at least for right now?
It wasn't enough, not even when she came. Her cry of pleasure only made Savin think of Jazz's cries. When he locked lips with her, he thought of Jazz's lips and how they felt. Everything about Mari just made him think of Jazz, no matter how much he tried to concentrate on his wife. Looking her in the eye proved nearly impossible because of this, but he forced himself to do it so she wouldn't get suspicious.
Savin didn't know how much longer he could do this. It seemed every time with Mari got a little bit worse with how much he thought of Jazz. That was part of the reason he avoided getting intimate with her; it only widened the distance between them, at least in Savin's mind.
* * *
“Your tie is crooked,” Jazz said. “Here, let me fix it.”
Savin sighed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He never could tie a tie, and today, of all days, he needed to look his best for the upcoming Council meeting.
He shiveedr as Jazz started fixing his tie. With the way the younger man blushed, Savin thought he must have noticed.
“There - it's perfect,” Jazz murmured.
It was, and it had better be. Savin sighed again. “Are you ready, Jazz?” he asked.
“To vote on who will lead us? No, I'm not ready,” he muttered. “You know I don't want to be Emperor. Why did I even suggest myself? I'm only twenty-two years old, for fuck's sake!”
Savin knew how reluctant Jazz was. “You're the best man for the job, that's why. If that bastard Mitchel gets it --”
Jazz grumbled, “I know. I know how bad it would be if Mitchel got it, but it's just - just not something I want.”
Savin offered a small, apologetic smile. “That's why you should be Emperor. Because you don't want it. You won't let the power go to your head. Besides, I'll be there to help as your co-Emperor.”
Sighing, Jazz said, “I know. I guess we better go in now, right?”
“Yes, we should,” Savin agreed.
They entered the Council room and took their seats. Savin glanced at Ryin's chair, his stomach clenching with nerves. Mitchel walked into the room and took his seat. He smirked at Jazz and Savin, who pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
Eventually, the rest of the Council filtered in. Mitchel wasted no time once everyone was seated. He said, “So, we all know why we're here, I assume?”
Stephen asked, “We're going to vote on the new Emperor, am I right?” He sounded almost like he weren't sure why they were meeting now.
“Of course we are,” Mitchel muttered. “And we all know the choices. Me or - Jazz, with Savin as co-Emperor. Are we ready, then?”
Everyone agreed they were ready, but Savin couldn't get himself to relax. He knew just how much rested on this vote, which was bound to be close. Savin wrote down his vote for himself and Jazz on the slip of provided paper. When he dropped the paper into the collection box, he almost missed the slot because his hand shook so badly.
Mitchel pulled the first vote out of the box and read it, his face scrunched up slightly. “Councilman Callahan.”
Savin couldn't let go of his tension yet. That was only one vote for Jazz, and they needed a majority.
The next vote was also for Jazz. Savin felt his spirits lift, just slightly, his hands shaking a tiny bit less.
Each time, Mitchel pulled the votes out of the box slowly, like he were savoring the tension Unfortunately, the third vote belonged to Mitchel, as did the one after that. Savin's chest tightened with each mention of Mitchel's name.
“Councilman Foraker,” read Mitchel, a tiny smirk on his face. So, the fifth vote went to him. That meant three for him and only two for Jazz so far.
Mitchel read the sixth vote. “Councilman Callahan.”
Savin's heart hammered in his chest. One vote remained to decide who would lead them. It had to be Jazz.
With infuriating slowness, Mitchel reached into the box and removed the fateful seventh vote. He unfolded the paper deliberately while Savin's hands shook the worst they had yet.
Mitchel's eyes brightened. He smiled triumphantly.
Oh no, Savin thought. It couldn't be. The last vote had to belong to Jazz. Savin's chest tightened painfully.
“Councilman Foraker,” Mitchel read, his smile now a full-fledged victorious grin.
Mitchel announced, “It seems you all decided well. I am your new Emperor. Shall we continue the meeting now?” He smirked at Savin.
Horror enveloped Savin. It couldn't be. How could Mitchel have won it?
As the Council meeting continued, Savin noticed Jazz seemed awfully twitchy. When he tried to offer an apologetic, comforting smile, Jazz actually looked away. Savin couldn't help feeling like something was off with Jazz. The younger man kept fidgeting with his papers and missing his cue whenever anybody asked him his opinion.
When the meeting finally ended, Savin nearly sighed with relief. That had been the worst Council in memory. He couldn't even remember anything they had discussed, and the meeting had just finished. The sick feeling in Savin's stomach wouldn't go away. Judging by Jazz's behavior, the younger man felt even worse about the outcome than Savin did.
Slowly, the other Council members left the room. The only people who remained were Mitchel, Savin and Jazz.
Mitchel smirked. “So sorry you lost. I guess the better candidate won, yes?”
“I'm sure you like to think so,” Savin muttered.
He said, “Just remember, Savin, even you need to show me the respect due your Emperor.”
With that, Mitchel left.
Savin walked over to Jazz, who still sat in his chair. He could see how Jazz trembled. The younger man looked like he might be sick over his papers.
“Are you alright?” Savin murmured.
Jazz looked away from him. “I'm - I'm fine.”
Savin didn't believe him at all. “You're not fine, Jazz.” He placed a hand on Jazz's shoulder only to have him pull away.
“What's the matter? You can tell me,” Savin said.
Jazz buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook, and Savin thought he could hear him start to cry.
“I c-can't tell you, Savin. You - you'll kill me,” he sobbed.
The meaning behind his words clicked. Savin knew exactly what Jazz was implying. His heart stopped.
“You - voted for Mitchel?” he asked.
Jazz's continued sobs provided Savin with all the answer he needed.
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written for writerverse Table of Doom - Table Alpha #6. Friday Night