FIC: Balance, Interrupted
So, I started writing this like a week ago, and it stalled and stalled and lo, it is finally fucking done.
Title Balance, Interrupted
Fandom Kings
Summary Jack has always struggled to maintain his balance.
Warnings graphic m/m sexual content, some of it featuring persons under 18.
Words ~5000
Beta the wonderful roga and miarr, who are awesome beyond belief. All remaining mistakes, atrocities and purple unicorns are entirely my fault.
Author's Note the alternative header of this story would have been:
Title - OMG what the hell did I just write?
Warnings - no, seriously, what?!
Summary - BRB getting brain back
1
Jacks says, "But I don't want to go!" and his mother says, "Darling, this is not a discussion," and two days later he's being driven to Cross mansion for his cousin Andrew's stupid birthday party.
It's not even Andrew's real birthday now - his cousin's been fifteen for a whole two months already - it's more like a pity party arranged by his uncle because Andrew's spent the last three months lying sick in bed. It's two weeks before Jack's own birthday, his thirteenth. He's supposed to have a ceremony to celebrate his coming of age; a huge production that's had the entire palace in a flurry for months. He still can't believe his mother made him go.
On the long drive to Menashe, Jack tries to come up with a viable strategy to politely avoid contact with stupid Andrew and his stupid friends - who always make jokes Jack's not allowed to understand - and tries to comfort himself with thoughts of the hunting trip they'll no doubt go on. He loves hunting.
*
After the first twenty four hours at the Cross estate Jack's ready to call his mother and beg her to let him come home. The sound of her "You're a big boy now, Jack, it's time to be a man," ringing in his ears is the only thing that stops him.
Andrew starts out treating Jack like his kid brother - nothing new there, it would be too much to ask to be treated as the royalty he is - and, perhaps realizing Jack doesn't find the introduction to Andrew's friends all that impressive, takes him aside after dinner and gives him a run down of the five girls attending the party, pointing out the one who's only a year older than Jack.
She's decent looking enough, but the prospect appeals to Jack about as much as running to the stables and back just to pet the horses. A lot of effort for a dubious reward.
He tries to get Andrew to tell him about the new guns his father purchased from Moab - collector's items, supposedly - but Andrew rolls his eyes and gives Jack a condescending pat on the head before heading back into the dining room.
*
The following day, even being woken up before dawn can't spoil Jack's mood. Menashe Forest is colder than Jack remembers and so full of undergrowth he trips and nearly falls twice before they even spot their first deer, but it's still more fun than the day before and Jack is grateful.
Just before lunch, Jack wanders off from the main group of Andrew and five of his friends. He walks as quietly as he can, trying to spot movement between the trees, when he notices a boy lying in the bushes about twenty paces ahead of him. The boy's gun is poised and his posture is clearly that of someone afraid to spook his prey. Jack's eyes dart to where the boy's gun is pointed at and sure enough - there's a giant elk standing right there, almost completely obscured by the shrubbery.
Jack's heart pumps faster and his eyes widen. He walks slowly and carefully towards the boy - he's certain he's been spotted, he made enough noise; the boy probably doesn't want to risk ruining his aim by acknowledging Jack's presence.
He realizes the boy will either get pissed at him for interrupting, later, or laugh at him with Andrew behind his back. Baby Jack, can't help but get excited. Jack doesn't care.
He crouches next to the boy hesitantly, silently asking for permission, and the boy surprises him by turning his head and… smiling at Jack. In what Jack is almost certain is not a condescending way.
They lie next to each other on the ground, focused on the animal in front of them, when the boy turns to look at Jack's face, again, his eyes unreadable. Jack looks back nervously - every minute they wait the elk could get spooked and they'd lose their chance. The boy smiles again, winks at Jack and squeezes the trigger.
The sound makes Jack jump and yelp in surprise. His heart feels like it's about to slam its way out of Jack's chest. "What kind of a maniac shoots without even looking at the target?" Jack yells before he even remembers to check whether the elk is hit.
"Hi, I'm Elijah," the boy says, extending his hand, with that weird, charming smile still on his lips.
They have to call the mansion to send a special car to transport the elk.
*
Elijah shows him how to hold his rifle better - it's all about balance, apparently - and helps Jack adjust his aim for height. Turns out Elijah's older brother attends the military academy and Jack spends the journey back to the mansion quizzing him about what he knows.
Jack realizes quickly no one will actually mind if he spends most of his time with Elijah. He doesn't ask, but it's clear Elijah's not any more part of the group than Jack is. Jack can remember Andrew originally introducing Elijah as a schoolmate, but it's a mystery to Jack why he'd get an invitation if he and Andrew were not very good friends.
After dinner Elijah shows up in Jack's quarters unescorted and announces with a grin that he'd managed to escape his minders. Jack's torn between shocked and impressed until Elijah pulls out a cigarette and a lighter and then he's just panicking over whether Marcus - who is filling in as both Jack's head of security and his nanny during the trip - would be able to smell it when he came into the room.
Elijah, seemingly unaware of the potential consequences for Jack, stretches out luxuriously on a couch and raises an eyebrow with a smug smile, offering Jack a puff of the cigarette.
"Yeah Mom, it's actually going great," Jack says over the phone, later that day. "It's… I'm having lots of fun. Yeah, more than I expected."
*
Jack spends the last morning in Menashe eating cake and cookies and having a last birthday-party kind of event in the largest dining hall in the mansion along with everyone else.
While Marcus is busy overseeing the packing of Jack's belongings, Jack stumbles into Elijah in the hallway.
"Hey, can you ditch your babysitter for a few hours tonight?" Elijah leans in close before adding, "Before it gets dark?"
Jack's brain starts running scenarios before he even thinks to ask what Elijah's planning. "Yeah. I think so."
"Excellent. Meet me at six." Elijah's smile makes the heat rush to Jack's skin. "I promise you won't regret it."
*
The sun is still bright enough that Jack can see as well as he did at noon, but by evening the forest is chilly and after Jack shivers one too many times Elijah sighs and gives him his coat, despite Jack's protests.
"Where are we going, exactly?" Jack asks after half an hour of briskly walking through the woods.
"Shh," Elijah admonishes. "Be careful - watch where you're going."
Suddenly Elijah knocks him to the ground and puts a hand over his mouth. "Look," he whispers directly into Jack's ear and points in front of them.
Jack's eyes go wide and Elijah tightens his hand against Jack's mouth, in warning. Jack nods, aware of the need to make as little noise as possible, and Elijah finally takes his hand away.
"Is that," Jack whispers so his lips are practically touching Elijah's ear. "A lion?"
Elijah nods, eyes glittering.
A good distance ahead of them, but clearly within Jack's line of sight, the lion bends down to tear off another piece of a deer's carcass.
"I'm pretty sure he escaped from the Menashe Zoo," Elijah whispers. "I found tracks yesterday but I couldn't be sure."
He really is utterly, recklessly, insane, Jack thinks with awe. They lie together on the cold ground for minutes that seem like hours while the lion finishes his meal and eventually wanders off. Jack can hardly breathe with fear, excitement and adrenaline all wrapped into one by the time Elijah puts his hand on Jack's shoulder and says, with a voice slightly louder than a whisper, "I think we're good to head back."
Elijah gets up first and reaches a hand out to Jack, and after that the walk back is a blur. The next thing Jack's aware of is Elijah stopping him with a palm flat on Jack's chest, saying, "So, how was that?" with that brilliant smile going all the way up to the corners of his eyes.
"It was the coolest thing I've ever seen," Jack confesses boldly before putting his hands around Elijah's face and pressing their lips together.
One of Elijah's hands wraps around Jack's neck while the other lands on the front of Jack's pants. Jack isn't sure what happens after that except somehow his pants come unbuttoned and Elijah's hand feels like the best thing that had ever touched his skin. He moans when Elijah starts jerking his hand up and down and then Elijah's tongue is in his mouth and all the sounds come out muffled.
He is afraid, later, that his legs won't carry him back to the mansion; he's too heavy for Elijah to carry the whole way.
"Don't worry," Elijah says before kissing Jack's cheek and helping pull the coat back on.
Days later, Jack stands up in front of his family, friends and future subjects, says all the words he's supposed to, keeps quiet when he should and feels every inch a man while doing it.
2
There's a new statue being erected outside Jack’s window: the winner of some lame contest his mother no doubt hyped up in the press. A large block of stone, painted solid black, with a smaller arc suspended on a construction on top. The arc is U-shaped, pointing upwards, balanced through some clever mechanics so it looks as though as it's floating mid-air. It represents the two chief duties of a king - to uphold the will of God and to care for the well being of his people. Jack has no idea why, of all places, it's being placed in the interior court of the main barracks building of the Gilboa Military Academy.
He passes by it on his way out of the gates, later. It's evening, but he manages to spot the steps carved in the stone base before his friends drag him away, impatient to get the night's festivities started. During his first year at the Academy Jack was mostly grateful to have a day off from classes, never mind going out on the town; now, as a second year, he can hardly understand how he'd lived without the permission to leave the barracks on weekends.
Three bars and fifteen different kinds of alcohol later the clock face finally shows the desired time and Jack separates himself from the group with a lazy, drunken excuse.
Gideon is waiting for him at their usual spot. The city isn't a large one and out-of-sight places are hard to come by, but they've never been interrupted before and that's enough for Jack.
He kisses Gideon until he's out of breath, presses him against the wall, shoves his hand down the back pocket of Gideon's jeans and keeps it there all the way to Gideon's apartment.
Later, Jack moans, open mouthed and wanton, wraps his legs tighter around Gideon's body and sighs helplessly when soft, wet lips descend on his.
The next day morning drills are interrupted for a special announcement: blah blah, look at the pretty statue we got from the Queen - though none of us is sure what the hell it's supposed to be - touch it and your death will be neither swift nor painless.
Jack winces every time he sits down carelessly and as a result can't concentrate properly on any of the day's classes. His roommates, Tom and Simon, tease him about eating a lemon over lunch to wipe the disgustingly satisfied grin off his face.
*
Jack always goes home for the holidays. It's not a matter of wanting to see his family - though he does - but rather that there are always princely duties he must attend to. His life is not quite his own, especially when it comes to important dates, as his mother is fond of saying.
Michelle hugs him hello in front of the cameras and says, "Welcome home!" with a bright smile. There are always photographers around when their family is having joyous reunions.
His mom lays her hands on his cheeks, her eyes full of affectionate nostalgia. He thinks she might comment on how much he's grown - though he's exactly the same height as when she last saw him - but instead she just looks him up and down, her eyes lingering on the new symbol pinned on his uniform - another set of exams passed successfully - and says, "You look just like your father did at your age. Takes my breath away."
She kisses him and Jack wraps his arms around her and rests his head on her shoulder, briefly, shielding his eyes from the camera flashes.
*
"So what, what did he want?" Gideon says, pulling out a cigarette.
"Oh, God. Okay, so I'm standing there in his office, right," Jack interrupts the story to take a puff. "And Colonel Abrams comes in with his face all serious, I swear he looks like one of those dogs who can't fit their tongues all the way in their mouths?"
Gideon laughs and gets up from the bed to walk around the room, collecting his clothes.
"And I'm thinking," Jack says, unable to suppress a smile. "They've figured out it was me who helped out Zack with his prank last week, for sure, you know? And the Colonel just stands there and ruffles through his papers like he's looking for the letter he's going to send to my father and then…" Jack pauses, waiting for Gideon to pull his shirt on and give Jack his full attention. "Then he says - Congratulations Jack, we're putting you up for a commendation - you've got the best overall marks in your class this semester!"
Gideon smiles. "That's great." He puts out the cigarette before walking back to the bed, almost completely dressed.
"I know!" Jack beams. "I told Aaron my score was higher after target practice but he wouldn't believe me. Cocky bastard thought he'd get it this time."
Gideon kisses him on the lips before saying, "I've been thinking of going overseas."
Half an hour later, on his way back to barracks, Jack still can't figure out why Gideon had to bring up his new job offer precisely at that time.
*
Jack goes home a month later, for his twentieth birthday. It's not customary to get leave for that sort of thing, of course, but his mother is organizing a special event - she always does for these kinds of occasions - and it wouldn't be a ball in honor of the prince without the guest of honor.
It's a fantastic party: more people than Jack's ever seen at these things and all of them congratulating Jack on his achievements at the Academy - his grades are a matter of national news, after all.
Jack stumbles back into the palace some time after three a.m., less tipsy than he would have liked, to find his father nursing his favorite bottle of scotch in the parlor room of Jack's quarters.
He stares at Jack, silently, as though Jack was a rabbit caught in a snare; pity mixed with something else, something viciously triumphant. Jack wills his heartbeat not to accelerate, his stomach not to drop past his knees but it's all going down, down, down and Jack can barely hold on in the face of his father's penetrating gaze. Jack's skin feels transparent, leaving all that's inside of him, all that's left, exposed as though he was laying on an operating table with his father wielding the knife.
"Is this really all that you are?" His dad says. He drains the glass, rises and leaves.
Jack stands frozen.
*
"God, you make me so hot," Gideon says with a mischievous smile, running his hands up Jack's torso, under his shirt. Jack captures his hands through the cloth, and Gideon’s finger’s halt, digging into Jack’s skin.
"Wait," Jack says.
It's a cold, rainy, miserable night. The streets are near deserted and that makes it even more dangerous, Jack thinks. Harder to blend into the crowd, higher chances of a passerby taking notice.
Moving indoors, behind a locked door, calms Jack's nerves. Something nags at him, pulling at him from inside. Gideon's on top of him on the bed, pressing him down and holding him still, tongue working Jack’s mouth, his hands caressing Jack’s skin possessively, and suddenly Jack reaches out and grabs and pushes until their positions are reversed and Gideon's looking up at him with surprise and mild confusion. Jack's heart is racing and he's out of breath; part of it is because he's enjoying himself and part of it is something else.
He wills the thing constricting his chest to unclench - he's in control now, he can do this - and bends down to kiss Gideon instead, his hands finding Gideon's wrists and pressing them into the mattress.
The evening stretches out and soon Jack can breathe freely again. He tells Gideon he's not in the mood to get fucked tonight and puts the condom on himself instead.
A few months later Gideon misses their scheduled meeting. He doesn't show up the next time either. His phone - a number Jack's told himself he's never going to use - is disconnected. Jack fakes a headache to get out of Introduction to Advanced Strategic Thought and holes up in his room, calling the number again and again, trying different digits in case he'd punched int eh wrong digit.
But no, that was impossible. He'd given Gideon his cell phone and made him add the number himself. Jack can remember how Gideon had made fun of him for having a cartoon character on the phone's wallpaper.
They aren't allowed to leave the barracks that night but Jack can be persuasive when he wants to and if you're going to break the rules, everyone knows, might as well do it with the crown prince. They bring booze back with them and Jack wobbles, up the steps of the statue in the court yard, bottle in hand, to the sound of laughter and whistling from his friends.
He takes a swig of the vodka, feels it burning through his chest, his stomach, his veins, and pushes against the one of the edges of the U-shaped arc with all the strength and frustration he can muster. To his complete surprise, instead of bouncing back as he'd expected, the arc bends lower and lower until the mechanism falters and it falls, balance interrupted, shattering on the ground.
Jack expects it to be in the papers the following day. So much of his life is led in the public eye, it's how he was raised - always assume someone will find out and alert the public.
But instead, nothing happens. Jack's violation of the rules goes without comment, and by afternoon drills the remains of the statue are gone from the yard. Jack would bet anything that his father received a call from the head of the Academy sometime in the early hours of the day.
Infuriatingly, pathetically, nothing changes in Jack's life at all, as far as anyone can tell. As though nothing of note had happened at all.
His friends start goading him into going out more often, cutting class, missing drills. More and more, Jack tends agrees to go along with their shenanigans. There's a freedom in causing havoc he'd never fully committed himself to exploring.
3
"Take me with you," Michelle says.
"What?" Jack's certain his little sister did not just ask him to take her out clubbing after the official ball in honor of her twenty-third birthday.
"Come on!" she pleads. "I don't mean staying out till six in the morning. Just… for a little while. I never get to go."
They both know there's a damn good reason she doesn't, but if she's asking him that means she's serious, and whatever her reasons, Jack can't bring himself to refuse once she pulls out the "remember that year you had the flu on your birthday and I snuck some strawberry cake into your room against Mom's orders" card.
After the major events are over and all the guests have departed, Jack asks her again if she's sure. Michelle nods just as Jack spots their mom in the hallway, giving them a questioning look, already on to the fact that they're up to something.
It shouldn't be a big deal that Michelle wants to go out on her birthday, even if it's to go clubbing at the kind of clubs Jack goes to, but it's Michelle and so everything about her life is a big deal to either the King or the Queen, though Jack knows she's always resented the attention.
Apparently their mom owes Michelle some favors because despite Jack's expectations, Michelle actually comes to find him thirty minutes later to ask what she should wear. Jack helps her rifle through her closets until they find something that straddles the line between tasteful and slutty and doesn't make Jack feel like their dad would have Jack court-martialed for suggesting it.
He takes her to his favorite hangout, introduces her to some of the regulars and gets her a drink with a paper umbrella and three colors not found in nature and watches her sip at it until her expression turns to pleasant surprise when she realizes it tastes like a spicy milkshake.
It's a little surreal, Jack thinks, going out clubbing with your baby sister. He could introduce her to some of the hotter, sluttier guys in the club but somehow he doesn't think she'd be interested in that.
He hovers close by just in case she needs his help navigating the drunk social scene - it takes her forty minutes to finish her drink which hardly leaves her intoxicated - and it gives him a rare excuse to turn down the usual buckets of female attention. He's on the look out tonight. He's Big Brother Jack.
The irony of his father's priorities in bestowing attention never escaped Jack's notice. For as long as he could remember, Michelle hated being treated like a fragile, dependant child - though Jack figured she'd spent so long living the role she found herself slipping back into it despite her best intentions - whereas when it came to Jack's actions their dad had nothing but a few spare words to offer every once in a while.
Jack doubts Michelle would truly trade him his relationship with the King, but he knows she'd certainly claim so. Some days it felt like she lived to prove to their dad that she could have an opinion or carry out an act he didn't sign off on. Some days Jack was almost certain his dad would turn to him over breakfast, clap his shoulder and say something that didn't feel like a backhanded compliment.
Jack figures Michelle has a good chance of pulling it off some day. His own prospects seem gloomier.
*
He meets Daniel in an after-hours club, the kind of place that doesn't open until most other places are closed. Small enough for an illusion of intimacy but large enough that the patrons - usually wired or wiped or both - can ignore each other's presence, to an extent.
Jack has a lap full of bleach-blonde hair and a his mouth is occupied by a brunette and he's a little surprised when a guy and a girl wander in and stumble on the couch across from him. As they begin to make out, the guy makes eye contact and doesn't let go even when Jack starts coming from the blowjob. It's incredibly hot and Jack makes a note of finding out who the guy is as well as yelling at his friends for letting him through to Jack's private area, no matter how wasted they were.
The excellent thing about Daniel, Jack finds out over the next few months, is that he's a very low stress kind of guy. He never asks for anything Jack's not willing to give and he's usually friendly and fun to be around.
Jack fucks him about twice a week and never has to deal with any drama. Daniel smiles at him when Jack pushes him into a wall or into a mattress or bends him over a couch. He licks at Jack's throat and moans, open and needy when Jack thrusts into him roughly and holds him still.
*
"Have you given it more thought, sweetheart?" his mom asks, quietly, while his dad takes the stage to speak at a Veterans Day event.
Jack turns his attention away from assessing the assets of one Joseph Anderson - General Anderson's son - and suppresses a sigh by sheer force of will. "Mom, I just… I don't know what you want me to do."
"I just want you to consider. You father has very strong opinions about certain things and you would do well to at least create the appearance of conforming to some of his unwritten decrees."
His dad ascends the stage dressed in his uniform, medals dangling from all sides, and every person in the audience hushes, his mother included. Her expression as she looks up at him standing there is something between riveted and awed. Jack straightens his spine and crosses his hands behind his back and tries to imagine what it was that made people like his mom pay attention to people like his dad, back when he had no status, no fortune and no guaranteed future.
"We honor all those who have fallen," his dad finished the speech. "And hope that future generations do not have to share this heavy burden. Let our sons and daughters not know the taste of war," his dad says looking directly into Jack's eyes. "Let them not have to prove themselves on the battlefield."
Jack swallows against whatever it is that's rising up in his throat. They're not tears. Jack will not give his father the satisfaction of seeing him with goddamn tears in his eyes. He can prove himself, he can goddamn prove himself better than any of his dad's generals or boot-licking advisors. He is more a man than any of them will ever be. The throne is his by right and he will do whatever he has to until his dad gets it through his thick skull that Jack is the continuation of his legacy, his line, his dynasty.
Jack prays for war, gritting his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, willing himself to calm down. He prays for a chance to prove himself on the battlefield.
Later, he sits down in his mother's private quarters and listens, as calmly as he can, to all her suggestions and reasoning. He doesn't notice when it happens, but at some point he realizes she's moved closer to him on the sofa and her hand is petting his hair and his cheek soothingly as she speaks.
*
It's one of the bad nights, when Jack doesn't know where he is, when he ends up in Daniel's arms in one of the lame ass clubs on Third Avenue. He's probably in full view of everyone but for once he doesn't care. He's too wasted on booze and whatever it was that got passed around in that little blue bag.
He doesn't have a clue what he's doing here but he knows Daniel's arms feel nice and his mouth tastes like a hot summer day and possibly there's a purple unicorn behind the couch, Jack isn't sure.
By the time they get to Daniel's apartment Jack feels only slightly more lucid and significantly hornier. He doesn't even know whose initiative got them landed in this hole.
Daniel bends down to kiss him, wraps his arms around Jack's torso and Jack melts. He lets himself be kissed and prodded and undressed and when the time comes he says, "Please fuck me, God I want you to fuck me." And when Daniel obliges Jack writhes and shivers and gasps and comes utterly, resoundingly undone.
*
In his dreams, Jack is dressed in a bloody uniform, dragging the carcass of a lion through a battlefield strewn with bodies. Triumphant, he walks for miles and miles, searching for his home base.
Sometimes he dreams of Gideon. He puts a hand on Jack's shoulder or kneels before Jack or towers over him when Jack's the one kneeling; he hands Jack a few pieces from a broken statue and says, "Remember balance, Jack?" His hands are always warm, but there's something distant in his eyes that hits Jack hard, every time.
Sometimes Jack sees himself hovering over a black monument that looks like a chopping block, balanced magically in the air. His friends are gathered around him but it's as though they're separated by a one way mirror - the wind is fierce and Jack wobbles, struggles to hold on, but none of them so much as reacts. The winds continue to rock him from side to side, flipping him over in the air, but he knows, somehow, that he will never be allowed to shatter.
Jack doesn't remember his dreams often, but once or twice he wakes up in a cold sweat, with the picture of Gideon whispering "I love you" tenderly still lingering behind his eyelids. Those are the nights when Jack can feel currents running under his skin, when he has to get up, get out, and hope that sometime over the next few hours or days or the end of the week, he will be able to get any sleep at all.
Title Balance, Interrupted
Fandom Kings
Summary Jack has always struggled to maintain his balance.
Warnings graphic m/m sexual content, some of it featuring persons under 18.
Words ~5000
Beta the wonderful roga and miarr, who are awesome beyond belief. All remaining mistakes, atrocities and purple unicorns are entirely my fault.
Author's Note the alternative header of this story would have been:
Title - OMG what the hell did I just write?
Warnings - no, seriously, what?!
Summary - BRB getting brain back
1
Jacks says, "But I don't want to go!" and his mother says, "Darling, this is not a discussion," and two days later he's being driven to Cross mansion for his cousin Andrew's stupid birthday party.
It's not even Andrew's real birthday now - his cousin's been fifteen for a whole two months already - it's more like a pity party arranged by his uncle because Andrew's spent the last three months lying sick in bed. It's two weeks before Jack's own birthday, his thirteenth. He's supposed to have a ceremony to celebrate his coming of age; a huge production that's had the entire palace in a flurry for months. He still can't believe his mother made him go.
On the long drive to Menashe, Jack tries to come up with a viable strategy to politely avoid contact with stupid Andrew and his stupid friends - who always make jokes Jack's not allowed to understand - and tries to comfort himself with thoughts of the hunting trip they'll no doubt go on. He loves hunting.
*
After the first twenty four hours at the Cross estate Jack's ready to call his mother and beg her to let him come home. The sound of her "You're a big boy now, Jack, it's time to be a man," ringing in his ears is the only thing that stops him.
Andrew starts out treating Jack like his kid brother - nothing new there, it would be too much to ask to be treated as the royalty he is - and, perhaps realizing Jack doesn't find the introduction to Andrew's friends all that impressive, takes him aside after dinner and gives him a run down of the five girls attending the party, pointing out the one who's only a year older than Jack.
She's decent looking enough, but the prospect appeals to Jack about as much as running to the stables and back just to pet the horses. A lot of effort for a dubious reward.
He tries to get Andrew to tell him about the new guns his father purchased from Moab - collector's items, supposedly - but Andrew rolls his eyes and gives Jack a condescending pat on the head before heading back into the dining room.
*
The following day, even being woken up before dawn can't spoil Jack's mood. Menashe Forest is colder than Jack remembers and so full of undergrowth he trips and nearly falls twice before they even spot their first deer, but it's still more fun than the day before and Jack is grateful.
Just before lunch, Jack wanders off from the main group of Andrew and five of his friends. He walks as quietly as he can, trying to spot movement between the trees, when he notices a boy lying in the bushes about twenty paces ahead of him. The boy's gun is poised and his posture is clearly that of someone afraid to spook his prey. Jack's eyes dart to where the boy's gun is pointed at and sure enough - there's a giant elk standing right there, almost completely obscured by the shrubbery.
Jack's heart pumps faster and his eyes widen. He walks slowly and carefully towards the boy - he's certain he's been spotted, he made enough noise; the boy probably doesn't want to risk ruining his aim by acknowledging Jack's presence.
He realizes the boy will either get pissed at him for interrupting, later, or laugh at him with Andrew behind his back. Baby Jack, can't help but get excited. Jack doesn't care.
He crouches next to the boy hesitantly, silently asking for permission, and the boy surprises him by turning his head and… smiling at Jack. In what Jack is almost certain is not a condescending way.
They lie next to each other on the ground, focused on the animal in front of them, when the boy turns to look at Jack's face, again, his eyes unreadable. Jack looks back nervously - every minute they wait the elk could get spooked and they'd lose their chance. The boy smiles again, winks at Jack and squeezes the trigger.
The sound makes Jack jump and yelp in surprise. His heart feels like it's about to slam its way out of Jack's chest. "What kind of a maniac shoots without even looking at the target?" Jack yells before he even remembers to check whether the elk is hit.
"Hi, I'm Elijah," the boy says, extending his hand, with that weird, charming smile still on his lips.
They have to call the mansion to send a special car to transport the elk.
*
Elijah shows him how to hold his rifle better - it's all about balance, apparently - and helps Jack adjust his aim for height. Turns out Elijah's older brother attends the military academy and Jack spends the journey back to the mansion quizzing him about what he knows.
Jack realizes quickly no one will actually mind if he spends most of his time with Elijah. He doesn't ask, but it's clear Elijah's not any more part of the group than Jack is. Jack can remember Andrew originally introducing Elijah as a schoolmate, but it's a mystery to Jack why he'd get an invitation if he and Andrew were not very good friends.
After dinner Elijah shows up in Jack's quarters unescorted and announces with a grin that he'd managed to escape his minders. Jack's torn between shocked and impressed until Elijah pulls out a cigarette and a lighter and then he's just panicking over whether Marcus - who is filling in as both Jack's head of security and his nanny during the trip - would be able to smell it when he came into the room.
Elijah, seemingly unaware of the potential consequences for Jack, stretches out luxuriously on a couch and raises an eyebrow with a smug smile, offering Jack a puff of the cigarette.
"Yeah Mom, it's actually going great," Jack says over the phone, later that day. "It's… I'm having lots of fun. Yeah, more than I expected."
*
Jack spends the last morning in Menashe eating cake and cookies and having a last birthday-party kind of event in the largest dining hall in the mansion along with everyone else.
While Marcus is busy overseeing the packing of Jack's belongings, Jack stumbles into Elijah in the hallway.
"Hey, can you ditch your babysitter for a few hours tonight?" Elijah leans in close before adding, "Before it gets dark?"
Jack's brain starts running scenarios before he even thinks to ask what Elijah's planning. "Yeah. I think so."
"Excellent. Meet me at six." Elijah's smile makes the heat rush to Jack's skin. "I promise you won't regret it."
*
The sun is still bright enough that Jack can see as well as he did at noon, but by evening the forest is chilly and after Jack shivers one too many times Elijah sighs and gives him his coat, despite Jack's protests.
"Where are we going, exactly?" Jack asks after half an hour of briskly walking through the woods.
"Shh," Elijah admonishes. "Be careful - watch where you're going."
Suddenly Elijah knocks him to the ground and puts a hand over his mouth. "Look," he whispers directly into Jack's ear and points in front of them.
Jack's eyes go wide and Elijah tightens his hand against Jack's mouth, in warning. Jack nods, aware of the need to make as little noise as possible, and Elijah finally takes his hand away.
"Is that," Jack whispers so his lips are practically touching Elijah's ear. "A lion?"
Elijah nods, eyes glittering.
A good distance ahead of them, but clearly within Jack's line of sight, the lion bends down to tear off another piece of a deer's carcass.
"I'm pretty sure he escaped from the Menashe Zoo," Elijah whispers. "I found tracks yesterday but I couldn't be sure."
He really is utterly, recklessly, insane, Jack thinks with awe. They lie together on the cold ground for minutes that seem like hours while the lion finishes his meal and eventually wanders off. Jack can hardly breathe with fear, excitement and adrenaline all wrapped into one by the time Elijah puts his hand on Jack's shoulder and says, with a voice slightly louder than a whisper, "I think we're good to head back."
Elijah gets up first and reaches a hand out to Jack, and after that the walk back is a blur. The next thing Jack's aware of is Elijah stopping him with a palm flat on Jack's chest, saying, "So, how was that?" with that brilliant smile going all the way up to the corners of his eyes.
"It was the coolest thing I've ever seen," Jack confesses boldly before putting his hands around Elijah's face and pressing their lips together.
One of Elijah's hands wraps around Jack's neck while the other lands on the front of Jack's pants. Jack isn't sure what happens after that except somehow his pants come unbuttoned and Elijah's hand feels like the best thing that had ever touched his skin. He moans when Elijah starts jerking his hand up and down and then Elijah's tongue is in his mouth and all the sounds come out muffled.
He is afraid, later, that his legs won't carry him back to the mansion; he's too heavy for Elijah to carry the whole way.
"Don't worry," Elijah says before kissing Jack's cheek and helping pull the coat back on.
Days later, Jack stands up in front of his family, friends and future subjects, says all the words he's supposed to, keeps quiet when he should and feels every inch a man while doing it.
2
There's a new statue being erected outside Jack’s window: the winner of some lame contest his mother no doubt hyped up in the press. A large block of stone, painted solid black, with a smaller arc suspended on a construction on top. The arc is U-shaped, pointing upwards, balanced through some clever mechanics so it looks as though as it's floating mid-air. It represents the two chief duties of a king - to uphold the will of God and to care for the well being of his people. Jack has no idea why, of all places, it's being placed in the interior court of the main barracks building of the Gilboa Military Academy.
He passes by it on his way out of the gates, later. It's evening, but he manages to spot the steps carved in the stone base before his friends drag him away, impatient to get the night's festivities started. During his first year at the Academy Jack was mostly grateful to have a day off from classes, never mind going out on the town; now, as a second year, he can hardly understand how he'd lived without the permission to leave the barracks on weekends.
Three bars and fifteen different kinds of alcohol later the clock face finally shows the desired time and Jack separates himself from the group with a lazy, drunken excuse.
Gideon is waiting for him at their usual spot. The city isn't a large one and out-of-sight places are hard to come by, but they've never been interrupted before and that's enough for Jack.
He kisses Gideon until he's out of breath, presses him against the wall, shoves his hand down the back pocket of Gideon's jeans and keeps it there all the way to Gideon's apartment.
Later, Jack moans, open mouthed and wanton, wraps his legs tighter around Gideon's body and sighs helplessly when soft, wet lips descend on his.
The next day morning drills are interrupted for a special announcement: blah blah, look at the pretty statue we got from the Queen - though none of us is sure what the hell it's supposed to be - touch it and your death will be neither swift nor painless.
Jack winces every time he sits down carelessly and as a result can't concentrate properly on any of the day's classes. His roommates, Tom and Simon, tease him about eating a lemon over lunch to wipe the disgustingly satisfied grin off his face.
*
Jack always goes home for the holidays. It's not a matter of wanting to see his family - though he does - but rather that there are always princely duties he must attend to. His life is not quite his own, especially when it comes to important dates, as his mother is fond of saying.
Michelle hugs him hello in front of the cameras and says, "Welcome home!" with a bright smile. There are always photographers around when their family is having joyous reunions.
His mom lays her hands on his cheeks, her eyes full of affectionate nostalgia. He thinks she might comment on how much he's grown - though he's exactly the same height as when she last saw him - but instead she just looks him up and down, her eyes lingering on the new symbol pinned on his uniform - another set of exams passed successfully - and says, "You look just like your father did at your age. Takes my breath away."
She kisses him and Jack wraps his arms around her and rests his head on her shoulder, briefly, shielding his eyes from the camera flashes.
*
"So what, what did he want?" Gideon says, pulling out a cigarette.
"Oh, God. Okay, so I'm standing there in his office, right," Jack interrupts the story to take a puff. "And Colonel Abrams comes in with his face all serious, I swear he looks like one of those dogs who can't fit their tongues all the way in their mouths?"
Gideon laughs and gets up from the bed to walk around the room, collecting his clothes.
"And I'm thinking," Jack says, unable to suppress a smile. "They've figured out it was me who helped out Zack with his prank last week, for sure, you know? And the Colonel just stands there and ruffles through his papers like he's looking for the letter he's going to send to my father and then…" Jack pauses, waiting for Gideon to pull his shirt on and give Jack his full attention. "Then he says - Congratulations Jack, we're putting you up for a commendation - you've got the best overall marks in your class this semester!"
Gideon smiles. "That's great." He puts out the cigarette before walking back to the bed, almost completely dressed.
"I know!" Jack beams. "I told Aaron my score was higher after target practice but he wouldn't believe me. Cocky bastard thought he'd get it this time."
Gideon kisses him on the lips before saying, "I've been thinking of going overseas."
Half an hour later, on his way back to barracks, Jack still can't figure out why Gideon had to bring up his new job offer precisely at that time.
*
Jack goes home a month later, for his twentieth birthday. It's not customary to get leave for that sort of thing, of course, but his mother is organizing a special event - she always does for these kinds of occasions - and it wouldn't be a ball in honor of the prince without the guest of honor.
It's a fantastic party: more people than Jack's ever seen at these things and all of them congratulating Jack on his achievements at the Academy - his grades are a matter of national news, after all.
Jack stumbles back into the palace some time after three a.m., less tipsy than he would have liked, to find his father nursing his favorite bottle of scotch in the parlor room of Jack's quarters.
He stares at Jack, silently, as though Jack was a rabbit caught in a snare; pity mixed with something else, something viciously triumphant. Jack wills his heartbeat not to accelerate, his stomach not to drop past his knees but it's all going down, down, down and Jack can barely hold on in the face of his father's penetrating gaze. Jack's skin feels transparent, leaving all that's inside of him, all that's left, exposed as though he was laying on an operating table with his father wielding the knife.
"Is this really all that you are?" His dad says. He drains the glass, rises and leaves.
Jack stands frozen.
*
"God, you make me so hot," Gideon says with a mischievous smile, running his hands up Jack's torso, under his shirt. Jack captures his hands through the cloth, and Gideon’s finger’s halt, digging into Jack’s skin.
"Wait," Jack says.
It's a cold, rainy, miserable night. The streets are near deserted and that makes it even more dangerous, Jack thinks. Harder to blend into the crowd, higher chances of a passerby taking notice.
Moving indoors, behind a locked door, calms Jack's nerves. Something nags at him, pulling at him from inside. Gideon's on top of him on the bed, pressing him down and holding him still, tongue working Jack’s mouth, his hands caressing Jack’s skin possessively, and suddenly Jack reaches out and grabs and pushes until their positions are reversed and Gideon's looking up at him with surprise and mild confusion. Jack's heart is racing and he's out of breath; part of it is because he's enjoying himself and part of it is something else.
He wills the thing constricting his chest to unclench - he's in control now, he can do this - and bends down to kiss Gideon instead, his hands finding Gideon's wrists and pressing them into the mattress.
The evening stretches out and soon Jack can breathe freely again. He tells Gideon he's not in the mood to get fucked tonight and puts the condom on himself instead.
A few months later Gideon misses their scheduled meeting. He doesn't show up the next time either. His phone - a number Jack's told himself he's never going to use - is disconnected. Jack fakes a headache to get out of Introduction to Advanced Strategic Thought and holes up in his room, calling the number again and again, trying different digits in case he'd punched int eh wrong digit.
But no, that was impossible. He'd given Gideon his cell phone and made him add the number himself. Jack can remember how Gideon had made fun of him for having a cartoon character on the phone's wallpaper.
They aren't allowed to leave the barracks that night but Jack can be persuasive when he wants to and if you're going to break the rules, everyone knows, might as well do it with the crown prince. They bring booze back with them and Jack wobbles, up the steps of the statue in the court yard, bottle in hand, to the sound of laughter and whistling from his friends.
He takes a swig of the vodka, feels it burning through his chest, his stomach, his veins, and pushes against the one of the edges of the U-shaped arc with all the strength and frustration he can muster. To his complete surprise, instead of bouncing back as he'd expected, the arc bends lower and lower until the mechanism falters and it falls, balance interrupted, shattering on the ground.
Jack expects it to be in the papers the following day. So much of his life is led in the public eye, it's how he was raised - always assume someone will find out and alert the public.
But instead, nothing happens. Jack's violation of the rules goes without comment, and by afternoon drills the remains of the statue are gone from the yard. Jack would bet anything that his father received a call from the head of the Academy sometime in the early hours of the day.
Infuriatingly, pathetically, nothing changes in Jack's life at all, as far as anyone can tell. As though nothing of note had happened at all.
His friends start goading him into going out more often, cutting class, missing drills. More and more, Jack tends agrees to go along with their shenanigans. There's a freedom in causing havoc he'd never fully committed himself to exploring.
3
"Take me with you," Michelle says.
"What?" Jack's certain his little sister did not just ask him to take her out clubbing after the official ball in honor of her twenty-third birthday.
"Come on!" she pleads. "I don't mean staying out till six in the morning. Just… for a little while. I never get to go."
They both know there's a damn good reason she doesn't, but if she's asking him that means she's serious, and whatever her reasons, Jack can't bring himself to refuse once she pulls out the "remember that year you had the flu on your birthday and I snuck some strawberry cake into your room against Mom's orders" card.
After the major events are over and all the guests have departed, Jack asks her again if she's sure. Michelle nods just as Jack spots their mom in the hallway, giving them a questioning look, already on to the fact that they're up to something.
It shouldn't be a big deal that Michelle wants to go out on her birthday, even if it's to go clubbing at the kind of clubs Jack goes to, but it's Michelle and so everything about her life is a big deal to either the King or the Queen, though Jack knows she's always resented the attention.
Apparently their mom owes Michelle some favors because despite Jack's expectations, Michelle actually comes to find him thirty minutes later to ask what she should wear. Jack helps her rifle through her closets until they find something that straddles the line between tasteful and slutty and doesn't make Jack feel like their dad would have Jack court-martialed for suggesting it.
He takes her to his favorite hangout, introduces her to some of the regulars and gets her a drink with a paper umbrella and three colors not found in nature and watches her sip at it until her expression turns to pleasant surprise when she realizes it tastes like a spicy milkshake.
It's a little surreal, Jack thinks, going out clubbing with your baby sister. He could introduce her to some of the hotter, sluttier guys in the club but somehow he doesn't think she'd be interested in that.
He hovers close by just in case she needs his help navigating the drunk social scene - it takes her forty minutes to finish her drink which hardly leaves her intoxicated - and it gives him a rare excuse to turn down the usual buckets of female attention. He's on the look out tonight. He's Big Brother Jack.
The irony of his father's priorities in bestowing attention never escaped Jack's notice. For as long as he could remember, Michelle hated being treated like a fragile, dependant child - though Jack figured she'd spent so long living the role she found herself slipping back into it despite her best intentions - whereas when it came to Jack's actions their dad had nothing but a few spare words to offer every once in a while.
Jack doubts Michelle would truly trade him his relationship with the King, but he knows she'd certainly claim so. Some days it felt like she lived to prove to their dad that she could have an opinion or carry out an act he didn't sign off on. Some days Jack was almost certain his dad would turn to him over breakfast, clap his shoulder and say something that didn't feel like a backhanded compliment.
Jack figures Michelle has a good chance of pulling it off some day. His own prospects seem gloomier.
*
He meets Daniel in an after-hours club, the kind of place that doesn't open until most other places are closed. Small enough for an illusion of intimacy but large enough that the patrons - usually wired or wiped or both - can ignore each other's presence, to an extent.
Jack has a lap full of bleach-blonde hair and a his mouth is occupied by a brunette and he's a little surprised when a guy and a girl wander in and stumble on the couch across from him. As they begin to make out, the guy makes eye contact and doesn't let go even when Jack starts coming from the blowjob. It's incredibly hot and Jack makes a note of finding out who the guy is as well as yelling at his friends for letting him through to Jack's private area, no matter how wasted they were.
The excellent thing about Daniel, Jack finds out over the next few months, is that he's a very low stress kind of guy. He never asks for anything Jack's not willing to give and he's usually friendly and fun to be around.
Jack fucks him about twice a week and never has to deal with any drama. Daniel smiles at him when Jack pushes him into a wall or into a mattress or bends him over a couch. He licks at Jack's throat and moans, open and needy when Jack thrusts into him roughly and holds him still.
*
"Have you given it more thought, sweetheart?" his mom asks, quietly, while his dad takes the stage to speak at a Veterans Day event.
Jack turns his attention away from assessing the assets of one Joseph Anderson - General Anderson's son - and suppresses a sigh by sheer force of will. "Mom, I just… I don't know what you want me to do."
"I just want you to consider. You father has very strong opinions about certain things and you would do well to at least create the appearance of conforming to some of his unwritten decrees."
His dad ascends the stage dressed in his uniform, medals dangling from all sides, and every person in the audience hushes, his mother included. Her expression as she looks up at him standing there is something between riveted and awed. Jack straightens his spine and crosses his hands behind his back and tries to imagine what it was that made people like his mom pay attention to people like his dad, back when he had no status, no fortune and no guaranteed future.
"We honor all those who have fallen," his dad finished the speech. "And hope that future generations do not have to share this heavy burden. Let our sons and daughters not know the taste of war," his dad says looking directly into Jack's eyes. "Let them not have to prove themselves on the battlefield."
Jack swallows against whatever it is that's rising up in his throat. They're not tears. Jack will not give his father the satisfaction of seeing him with goddamn tears in his eyes. He can prove himself, he can goddamn prove himself better than any of his dad's generals or boot-licking advisors. He is more a man than any of them will ever be. The throne is his by right and he will do whatever he has to until his dad gets it through his thick skull that Jack is the continuation of his legacy, his line, his dynasty.
Jack prays for war, gritting his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, willing himself to calm down. He prays for a chance to prove himself on the battlefield.
Later, he sits down in his mother's private quarters and listens, as calmly as he can, to all her suggestions and reasoning. He doesn't notice when it happens, but at some point he realizes she's moved closer to him on the sofa and her hand is petting his hair and his cheek soothingly as she speaks.
*
It's one of the bad nights, when Jack doesn't know where he is, when he ends up in Daniel's arms in one of the lame ass clubs on Third Avenue. He's probably in full view of everyone but for once he doesn't care. He's too wasted on booze and whatever it was that got passed around in that little blue bag.
He doesn't have a clue what he's doing here but he knows Daniel's arms feel nice and his mouth tastes like a hot summer day and possibly there's a purple unicorn behind the couch, Jack isn't sure.
By the time they get to Daniel's apartment Jack feels only slightly more lucid and significantly hornier. He doesn't even know whose initiative got them landed in this hole.
Daniel bends down to kiss him, wraps his arms around Jack's torso and Jack melts. He lets himself be kissed and prodded and undressed and when the time comes he says, "Please fuck me, God I want you to fuck me." And when Daniel obliges Jack writhes and shivers and gasps and comes utterly, resoundingly undone.
*
In his dreams, Jack is dressed in a bloody uniform, dragging the carcass of a lion through a battlefield strewn with bodies. Triumphant, he walks for miles and miles, searching for his home base.
Sometimes he dreams of Gideon. He puts a hand on Jack's shoulder or kneels before Jack or towers over him when Jack's the one kneeling; he hands Jack a few pieces from a broken statue and says, "Remember balance, Jack?" His hands are always warm, but there's something distant in his eyes that hits Jack hard, every time.
Sometimes Jack sees himself hovering over a black monument that looks like a chopping block, balanced magically in the air. His friends are gathered around him but it's as though they're separated by a one way mirror - the wind is fierce and Jack wobbles, struggles to hold on, but none of them so much as reacts. The winds continue to rock him from side to side, flipping him over in the air, but he knows, somehow, that he will never be allowed to shatter.
Jack doesn't remember his dreams often, but once or twice he wakes up in a cold sweat, with the picture of Gideon whispering "I love you" tenderly still lingering behind his eyelids. Those are the nights when Jack can feel currents running under his skin, when he has to get up, get out, and hope that sometime over the next few hours or days or the end of the week, he will be able to get any sleep at all.