Fic: Desire's Thrall (Or, Romance Novel Nightmare), Chapter 7
Title: Desire's Thrall (Or, Romance Novel Nightmare)
Chapter 7
Author: she_burns1
Pairing: Bret/Jemaine, Bret/Jemayn, Bretta/Jemayn (...it'll make sense when you read it)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,490
Summary: Bret gets transported into a romance novel. No, really.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The plot is all mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author’s Note: Crack!Fic. Ye ol' smut - abandon all hope, all ye who enter here! ;) Warning you of a slight non-con moment, but so slight it's pretty meaningless and the warning is pretty unnecessary...still...
Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
Bret had hoped another night of sleep might deliver him into a day where he was back in New York, but he awoke yet again to find himself disappointed.
Bret contemplated what to do with his new day. Never had he realized how much of his life revolved around three things - television, music, and Jemaine. He was easily denied the first, as he was quite sure the television wasn't even in anyone's imagination, not to mention, even being close to being invented. The second was also lost, because, as far as he had seen, there were no instruments lying about, and the third...the third...
Bret wondered what Jemaine was doing without him. Did he even know Bret was gone? Or was Bret there, but lying in a coma? Or was Bret there, but possessed by his romance-novel-alternate-self? So many possibilities and none of them pleasing...
All Bret knew was that he missed the other man now more than ever.
Jemaine, Jemaine, Jemaine.
Bret thought of him in every conceivable way. The sound of his voice, the feeling of walking next to him, the conversations...
And how he looked.
Every tiny detail. His big lips, his shaggy hair, his deep set eyes, his hands...
And as he thought about it, that weird, niggling feeling returned in the back of Bret's mind, making him restless. He felt like he was on the tip of something, an edge, and he was just dangling precariously. But dangling over what he did not know, and it caused an unruly frustration to build up inside him.
Bret snuck out of his chambers, looking this way and that for the other Jemaine and just the mere thought of him made Bret's dissatisfaction grow worse. He wanted his Jemaine. Not some burly imposter.
Funny that.
Jemayn wanted his Bret and Bret wanted his Jemaine. No wonder they couldn't see eye to eye. Or find any comfort in the other. So close to what they wanted, but not close enough.
Bret continued sneaking about until he was outside, but even here he was cautious. The last thing he wanted to do was run into Jemayn. In fact, the last thing he wanted to do was run into anybody. He had had enough of this romance novel nightmare. He just wanted to go home.
Bret crept into the stables and, once there, found himself communing with the animals. It was nice, to spend time with warm, simple creatures that couldn't talk back, couldn't judge, could only look at him with soft, dark eyes and open, accepting natures.
"How can I get home...you have any ideas?" Bret asked as he stroked a hand along one of the horse's backs. Albi was gone and that left Bret with only a few others to pay attention to. Currently he addressed the same brown mare that had taken him to Melig's and Bret was surprised when she actually shook her head and stamped one of her hooves. He couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah...me too..."
Bret continued to stroke the horse in silence, wondering what he was going to do with his day...and maybe with his whole life.
When he eventually drew away from the horse and the animals, he found himself leaving the stables and merely wandering the grounds like a shade, his thoughts dark and gloomy.
Somehow Bret found himself sitting on the edge of the Drop, his feet dangling above the waters below. He leaned back on his elbows and looked at the sky. The clouds were thick and gray above and he wondered idly if it was going to snow.
The grass beneath him was the color of rust and he picked at a few strands. There were green ones wedged in here and there, but overall everything looked about as rundown as he felt and an unpleasantly cold breeze eased past him, the air licking at his bare face and neck.
Bret had never realized how much he would miss civilization. Honking car horns and the smell of hot dogs, people yammering at one another. Everything was so silent here. Silent and cold and...it was like death.
Death...
Oh, this thought had never occurred to Bret. Maybe he was dead. Maybe this was some kind of limbo or hell or...
Bret groaned and flopped down on his back. No, no, no...
He couldn't take it anymore. If he had one more depressing thought...
The answer lies through water.
Bret sat up.
It was as if someone had just said the words aloud. They hadn't, at least, he didn't think they had, but...
He got to his feet and dusted himself off.
The answer lies through water.
Bret looked over the edge of the Drop. Cold, dark, black water lay below. Still and flat like a sheet of glass. Bret licked his lips. Could the answer be so simple?
Melig had said he was searching for home, that the answer lay through water. Bret blinked and felt his heart race. He had seen enough movies and read enough books to know that sometimes crazy, unpredictable acts were the only way. They always took place at the climax of the film, the music soaring, the hero or heroine doing something spectacular that made your blood stop in your veins at the sheer amazement of what they had just done...
Bret paced back and forth, looking over the Drop and then away, and then back again. He couldn't do this. No, no, no, he couldn't...
But then, Jemayn said he and Taika did it all the time. And they were walking around just fine. Mind you, they were probably just figments of Bret's imagination at the end of the day, but...
Okay, they might not be, because they certainly felt real, but, okay, but...
Bret rubbed his hands over his face and tried to get a hold of himself. Everything was bouncing about him now, like a pinball in a machine, spinning and whirling and trying to find direction.
He could feel it tug at him, that insatiable pull, like gravity, guiding him.
What choice did he have? What else could he do? This was crazy, yes, but then, so was everything else and he had to do something, right? He had to try, had to...
Bret raised a foot over the Drop, let it hang suspended in the open air. The fall down looked so, so far...
Bret pulled his foot back. He turned. He turned and he walked away, his back to the Drop. He stopped. He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. He thought of Jemaine. Bret thought of Jemaine and opened his eyes and turned, running blindly towards the Drop. He jumped off the edge.
* * * * *
The shocking cold tore through him like a knife. Bret had never known such sharp agony as this. It was everywhere. Needles of ice biting at every part of him, right down to the follicles of his hair.
He wanted to scream, but he had no voice. He was engulfed in the pain and the shock and the bitter, bitter cold. Freezing. He was freezing. He felt swallowed whole and buried, drowned...
Then, in a hot, flashing instant, it was over and he gasped as harsh, unforgiving air entered his lungs, a strong hand gripping at the collar of his shirt, tugging and yanking him and a voice cursing a blue streak.
He could only pick up bits of it, his body still coping with too many extremes to manage much else.
"...son of a..."
"...why would you..."
"...throttle you..."
Bret found himself jostled about and he was vaguely aware of being tossed over the back of something alive and someone was holding him, their grip firm but not necessarily unkind. And he felt sick and hurt and absolutely terrible as he was suddenly tossed about violently and then that stopped just as abruptly, more hands on him and the voice again, booming and angry and still he could only take so much of it in.
"...Socorra, need you to....idiot jumped in the...heat..."
Bret felt himself being lifted and it was almost like floating and slowly it all became more starkly clear. He was alive. He was in the manor. He was...
He licked his lips and blinked as he came to the realization that Jemayn was carrying him up the stairs. He struggled to speak but only let out a pitiful moan. Jemayn looked down at him distastefully, "Finally got a handle on your senses, you little fool?!"
Bret coughed and he felt some water escape his mouth, croaking, "....still...here..."
"You might not be, if you freeze to death!" Jemayn scowled and started to slowly lower him, "Come, come, on your feet...need to get you out of these wet clothes..."
Bret whimpered and flapped his hands, trying to protest, trying to push Jemayn away but Jemayn just ignored him, voice gruff, "Well, if you didn't want me to strip you, you shouldn't have jumped in the water at winter's end! Lucky you were, that you did not die from shock alone! 'Sides, I've seen you with naught on before."
Bret wanted to deny this, wanted to hide himself, but he felt too weak, too overwhelmed and Jemayn was tearing through his clothes as if they were no more cumbersome than wet paper towels.
He found Jemayn shoving him onto a bed and tossing a pile of covers over him as Socorra entered, "I've brought more blankets and bed warmers, master, as well as some additional kindling for your fire."
"Good, good, thank you," Jemayn took these things from her and then sent her on her way. He arranged everything as it should be, then stoked the fire in the fireplace, "You are lucky, thrall, that I like my room hot. This fire is at full blaze and, with what else Socorra brought me, I might be able to keep you from freezing. Though I would not have to do so, had you not-"
Jemayn stopped and groaned loudly, "For the love of...I can hear your teeth chattering!"
Bret had been unaware, up to this point, that his teeth were in fact, chattering, but now he became aware of the sound and shuddered. He still felt so wet, so cold. The center of his body throbbed with it. He rubbed his face against the pillow and he realized vaguely that he was in Jemayn's bed, snuggling deep into his covers and his pillow and...
He shivered as a warm, musky smell filled his lungs that was so achingly familiar he wanted to cry at the scent of it. Jemaine. Flip.
Jemayn stormed over and ran a large hand over his forehead, brushing at his wet curls, "If I had not been out for my morning ride...if I had not seen you," he shook his head, "When I saw you jump..."
Bret didn't answer and Jemayn looked at him, eyes hot, "You're pale as death, your lips are blue...are you not any warmer?"
Bret opened his mouth and nothing but indecipherable sounds left him. Jemayn scowled and brought his face closer to Bret's, "Is life here so terrible you would rather end it than face me? Answer, damn you!"
Bret struggled, managing a weak, "Can't..."
"Why not?!"
"...'fraid to..."
Jemayn rubbed at his eyes, "How many times must I say that you have nothing to fear from me? I would never harm you! Wish I could say the same in your regard, but you seem obsessed with causing me every conceivable torture..."
Bret's eyebrows knitted together and he opened his mouth to try and say more when Jemayn touched his forehead once more, "You are like ice. Furs would help, but gods know, you would not let me keep them. 'The poor animals', you say," his eyes darted about a moment before he patted at Bret's side, "Come. Move over."
Bret began to shake his head, eyes wild, "I-"
"You will do as I command!" Jemayn thundered, "Now shut up and move!"
Bret didn't have it in him to argue further and he slid over as much as possible. He tried to make sure there was some kind of blanket barrier between Jemayn and himself. Acutely aware, even despite his current state, that he was naked under the covers.
Jemayn stripped down himself until he wore only his undergarments, then proceeded to get under the covers himself. He ignored Bret's weak attempts at a barrier, his hands reaching out to rub strongly at Bret's arms and sides, his touch quick and sure, "Better?"
Bret's eyes squeezed shut tightly and he managed to shake his head.
Jemayn drew closer, his hands moving more quickly, "How about now?"
Bret took in a shaky breath and shook his head once more.
Jemayn grew even closer, his hot breath brushing Bret's face, ghosting over his closed eyelids, "...now?"
Bret felt himself trembling as a warmth started to pool in the center of him, his voice quivering, "Y-Yes."
Jemayn kept rubbing at his arms and his sides and the heat of everything started to curl in on Bret. He began to breathe more smoothly, his teeth no longer chattering and his hair was starting to change from sopping wet to merely damp. Even his toes felt as if they were defrosting.
Minutes passed in silence and more and more he felt himself melting, sinking into a heady warmth that relaxed and soothed him. Jemayn's hands continued to rub until they started to die off from their more harsh movements and into something more gentle...something more...caressing...
Bret shivered and it had nothing to do with being wet or cold.
His eyes opened, just mere slits, and he could see Jemayn across from him in the bed, close, so close.
Jemayn looked at him and when he spoke, his voice was deep and warmer than anything else Bret had experienced, "It comes to me...that perhaps I have been going about this the wrong way."
Bret stopped breathing.
"I have been barraging you with imagery and stories...perhaps a more personal approach..." Jemayn eased even closer and Bret wanted to pull away, wanted to run, but he felt rooted to the spot, his eyes widening as Jemayn's gaze drifted to his mouth.
Bret tried to shake his head, tried to do something, but Jemayn was just getting closer, that voice a seductive purr, "Your mind has forgotten me...but mayhap your body remembers..."
Jemaine's hands went to Bret's back, his strong arms cording around him, drawing him so close they were almost touching and fear, fear sharper and stronger than anything else began to choke Bret, "N-No."
"I know mine remembers you," Jemayn said, his eyes flicking to Bret's and suddenly he had one of Bret's hands, was holding it, his grip tender as he guided Bret's hand down, down, down and then...
"Here, feel me. How much I desire you...how hard you make me...it is aching with want of you."
And Bret could feel it. He was holding Jemayn...oh god...he was touching him there. And Jemayn was hard. Hard and hot and full against the palm of his hand and Bret had never touched...
Bret whimpered, an answering throb coming from his own body and oh god, oh god, oh god...oh no...he couldn't...he wasn't...
His fingers could feel Jemayn. The shape of him, the outline...so hard...so big...
Bret gasped, breathless, "J-Jemayn-don't-don't -"
"Shh, I'll be gentle...I promise you - some pleasure shall be had this day." Jemayn took Bret's hand away and Bret was surprised at how much he didn't want that and then Jemayn was rolling him oh so gently beneath him, and Bret was close to hyperventilating.
Jemayn run a hand down his chest, resting it just a bit below the scar, his voice full of wonder, "Your heart is beating fast...are you so afraid?"
Bret blinked, his eyes wet and wide, "I just...I didn't think...I don't..."
"If you want me to stop, I will," Jemayn said firmly, "This I vow."
"But...I...said...I...did..."
Jemayn smirked, "I will stop if you want me to stop. I have not heard such yet."
And Bret had to admit, he was unconvincing even to himself. His voice was weak, to be sure, but his 'don't's' and 'no's' were pitiful even to his own ears and his body, flip, his body was charged and shivering. Goosebumps were breaking out on his skin and he closed his eyes and he had never wanted something so badly in all his life.
Bret bit his lip and felt a quick rush of shame, followed by a strong, more lasting rush of desire. God, he wanted this.
And then he felt it, Jemayn's body touching his ever so lightly and Jemayn's lips just hovering along his neck, breath hot and Bret gasped, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as he made a huge, life changing decision with one word, "Yes."
Jemayn's lips brushed his skin, mouth open, his tongue licking the length of his throat and Bret released a bottled up moan. He felt like he was dissolving, like he was breaking apart into particles that would be swept up in some wild, crazy wind.
Jemayn's hands stroked his sides now, but not as they had earlier. These were the touches of a lover, sure and tender, and Bret felt as if his skin radiated with the feel of it. His own hands, which were bawling up the sheets beneath him, slowly released their death grip, relaxing enough to reach up and float above Jemayn's head.
Jemayn's mouth continued its trek down Bret's neck and to his chest, kissing reverently the scar that Bret shouldn't have and he gasped at that, surprised at how unspeakably arousing it felt, his hips arching just slightly.
Jemayn groaned then, the sound deep and almost painful, as Bret's lower body collided with his. He drew his mouth away, voice thick, "You will unmake me too soon...doing that...'s been too long..."
Bret's hands still floated above Jemayn and he saw them there, his voice coaxing, "You may touch me, thrall...in fact, I would delight in it..."
Bret felt unreal as he lowered his hands, his fingers curling through Jemayn's thick hair. Jemayn sighed happily and resumed his activities, licking and kissing Bret's body, taking one of the man's nipples into his mouth, teeth nipping at it gently.
Bret gasped and he tried to remember the last time anyone had done that. In some ways, it felt like he had never even had sex before. He always took everything so slow...
This was slow. But fast. But slow. But...
Bret's breathing seemed uncontrollable as Jemayn's mouth kept exploring him - the point of his tongue licking scribbling patterns, his teeth scraping across patches of exposed skin as he paused occasionally to suck almost hard enough to leave marks and in a way that thrilled and terrified Bret because he found himself wanting it, wanting Jemayn to mark him.
Bret felt his face flush red as Jemayn eased the covers further down his body, revealing more and more of his naked body to the open air. Jemayn's mouth was on his hips now, warm tip of his tongue tracing the hard line of his pelvic bone, leaving a searing streak of fire.
Bret squeezed his eyes shut. Oh god. Jemaine trailed moist, open mouthed kisses along him, his movements slow and leisurely, tasting, exploring, touching. Desire pulsed through Bret, made him tremble and ache and need. Never in his life had he felt this way...desperate and out of control and his head tipped back as he let out a low, deep moan. Christ, Jemayn was getting so close...
And then Bret felt it, hot breath gusting over the most hot, aching part of his whole being. He gasped, fingers tightening in Jemayn's hair, tugging just slightly and Jemayn grunted. Bret tried to loosen his grip, afraid he'd hurt him, but Jemayn just chuckled deep in his chest, "Impatient, aren't you?"
Bret tried to answer but all he managed were inelegant sounds that resembled whines. He couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe he wanted this, couldn't believe...
And then Bret forgot all about questions and answers and everything else in the whole world as Jemayn took hold of him, stroking his whole length once experimentally, before the burning, liquid pressure of his wet mouth engulfed him.
Bret cried out at the first contact, the feel of Jemayn's darting tongue on his cock and large hands wrapped around Bret's waist, pinning him into place while Jemayn moved at a speed that made Bret dizzy. There was absolutely nothing of sophistication or technique to this; it was all hot and wet and fast and hard; Jemayn's tongue was everywhere. Bret found himself losing language.
Bret's whimpered as he felt his climax building inside him, all ready so close to release as his body writhed beneath Jemayn's ministrations. It was too much. All of it was too much and he wanted to draw away, not wanting to come in his friend's mouth but then Jemayn...Jemayn was fumbling...his hands were...
Bret could see it then, Jemayn's mouth on him while Jemayn's hands freed himself, touched himself, stroking his own length and oh, oh, oh...
And suddenly all Bret could see, all he could fathom, was that it was Jemaine down there. Jemaine's bare, strong back, muscles working, Jemaine's hands moving, Jemaine's eyes looking back up at him, meeting his gaze and Bret watched with unspeakable arousal as his length darted in and out of Jemaine's parted lips, moving in time with the hand Jemaine had on himself.
Jemaine down there...sucking him and loving it...it was too much...he couldn't...
"Jemaine!" Bret sobbed as his orgasm tore through him, blinding him, his entirety swallowed up in one, white, hot heartbeat of time.
In the stunned aftermath, little tremors ran through Bret's limbs and his whole body felt light and languorous. The capacity for rational thought was still a little way off but he did have an unimpeded view of Jemayn kneeling over him with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, his eyes darker than Bret had ever seen them as wordless sounds left him, his hand starting to slow as his own release had finished. Then he moved upwards, collapsing over Bret in a boneless heap.
This was not what Bret had expected; but it turned out to be exactly what he wanted. Bret found that he loved the feel of being pressed down under the other man's weight. He felt safe. Owned. And that was unexpected too.
"That was...something," Bret said when he could remember how to string a sentence together. Jemayn rolled onto his side and scooped Bret up into an awkward embrace, planting lazy kisses on any part of the other man he could reach.
"Mmm," Jemayn agreed, with what could only be described as a snuggle. Bret wasn't used to sex being quite this cuddly, but he definitely thought he could get used to it. Still, something bothered him...
"Um...we-we did a lot, man."
"Hmm."
"But...um...you-you didn't...you didn't kiss me."
Jemayn looked at him now with one raised eyebrow and Bret could feel himself blushing as he did his best to explain, "'S just...mean...we-we did something real...uh...intimate but you didn't...we didn't..."
"You always shied away from my kisses before," Jemayn answered, his voice a sexy rumble that made Bret's blush worse, "I decided to forgo it."
"In favor of-of..."
Jemayn shrugged, a wicked smile on his face, "I guess we've discovered where your true priorities lie."
Bret felt like his blush might go from red to purple, face hot, as he whispered, "No, no...I'm not...didn't want you to just-"
"Shh, shh," Jemayn whispered, running a finger teasingly under Bret's chin, "Would you like me to kiss you now? Would you let me?"
Bret licked his lips, wondering why kissing seemed almost more intimate than what they had just done as he nodded weakly. Jemayn smiled and eased forward, his mouth meeting Bret's.
It was nothing more than a soft, gentle brushing of lip against lip that lasted no longer than a second, but just the tender movement of Jemayn's lips against his own caused a violent shiver to cascaded through Bret's body, leaving another trail of goose bumps in their wake.
Jemayn seemed more than prepared to draw back, end things at that, but Bret found his own hands coming to life, grabbing the other man, drawing him back, returning the kiss. Jemayn let out a pleased gasp but waited, waited, waited...waited to see what Bret would do. Waited to see if he would participate.
And Bret couldn't blame him...Jemayn had done so much up this point...so, cautiously, Bret opened his mouth, his tongue dragging hesitantly along Jemayn's lower lip, tasting, exploring the full curve of it.
Jemayn sighed dreamily, his own mouth dropping open now and Bret whimpered, a courage he didn't know he had building inside himself, as he let his tongue dipped into Jemayn's mouth.
Jemayn groaned then, pulling Bret against him. The moment Bret's tongue flicked against his own, Jemayn felt a lightning bolt of heat lodge in his chest. His own tongue met Bret's, dueled it, and the kiss quickly turned hot and demanding and passionate.
Bret's heart slammed against his rib cage and pounded a breathless, disjointed beat. A deep, formless longing engulfing him, making him ache and pulse and need, for...something. The feelings scared and exhilarated him. Bret felt blissfully alive and he wanted to touch Jemayn more, explore his body, but he couldn't force his arms to move and then Jemayn was drawing away, out of breath and smiling, "Best to stop now...don't think it wise to overexert yourself after everything else you've been through today."
Bret blinked, dumfounded, "What?"
Jemayn shook his head, laughing, "Have you all ready forgotten about throwing yourself off a cliff into stone cold waters? Almost drowning?"
"...feel plenty warm now."
"Mm, I'll just bet you do," Jemayn chuckled and gave him one more quick kiss, "No, no, trust me, Bret. I would like to continue just as much as you, but I think sleep t'would be best."
Bret wanted to argue but suddenly his eyelids did feel incredibly heavy and he yawned quietly. He found himself nestled deep into the bed, Jemayn cuddling him close and, right before drifting off to sleep, a drowsy realization struck him, "Jemayn..."
"Hmm?"
"Think...think I'm a bit gay for you."
Jemayn sighed, shaking his head, "Go to sleep, Bret. We'll talk about it when you wake."
And that's exactly what Bret did.
Chapter 7
Author: she_burns1
Pairing: Bret/Jemaine, Bret/Jemayn, Bretta/Jemayn (...it'll make sense when you read it)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,490
Summary: Bret gets transported into a romance novel. No, really.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The plot is all mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author’s Note: Crack!Fic. Ye ol' smut - abandon all hope, all ye who enter here! ;) Warning you of a slight non-con moment, but so slight it's pretty meaningless and the warning is pretty unnecessary...still...
Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
Bret had hoped another night of sleep might deliver him into a day where he was back in New York, but he awoke yet again to find himself disappointed.
Bret contemplated what to do with his new day. Never had he realized how much of his life revolved around three things - television, music, and Jemaine. He was easily denied the first, as he was quite sure the television wasn't even in anyone's imagination, not to mention, even being close to being invented. The second was also lost, because, as far as he had seen, there were no instruments lying about, and the third...the third...
Bret wondered what Jemaine was doing without him. Did he even know Bret was gone? Or was Bret there, but lying in a coma? Or was Bret there, but possessed by his romance-novel-alternate-self? So many possibilities and none of them pleasing...
All Bret knew was that he missed the other man now more than ever.
Jemaine, Jemaine, Jemaine.
Bret thought of him in every conceivable way. The sound of his voice, the feeling of walking next to him, the conversations...
And how he looked.
Every tiny detail. His big lips, his shaggy hair, his deep set eyes, his hands...
And as he thought about it, that weird, niggling feeling returned in the back of Bret's mind, making him restless. He felt like he was on the tip of something, an edge, and he was just dangling precariously. But dangling over what he did not know, and it caused an unruly frustration to build up inside him.
Bret snuck out of his chambers, looking this way and that for the other Jemaine and just the mere thought of him made Bret's dissatisfaction grow worse. He wanted his Jemaine. Not some burly imposter.
Funny that.
Jemayn wanted his Bret and Bret wanted his Jemaine. No wonder they couldn't see eye to eye. Or find any comfort in the other. So close to what they wanted, but not close enough.
Bret continued sneaking about until he was outside, but even here he was cautious. The last thing he wanted to do was run into Jemayn. In fact, the last thing he wanted to do was run into anybody. He had had enough of this romance novel nightmare. He just wanted to go home.
Bret crept into the stables and, once there, found himself communing with the animals. It was nice, to spend time with warm, simple creatures that couldn't talk back, couldn't judge, could only look at him with soft, dark eyes and open, accepting natures.
"How can I get home...you have any ideas?" Bret asked as he stroked a hand along one of the horse's backs. Albi was gone and that left Bret with only a few others to pay attention to. Currently he addressed the same brown mare that had taken him to Melig's and Bret was surprised when she actually shook her head and stamped one of her hooves. He couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah...me too..."
Bret continued to stroke the horse in silence, wondering what he was going to do with his day...and maybe with his whole life.
When he eventually drew away from the horse and the animals, he found himself leaving the stables and merely wandering the grounds like a shade, his thoughts dark and gloomy.
Somehow Bret found himself sitting on the edge of the Drop, his feet dangling above the waters below. He leaned back on his elbows and looked at the sky. The clouds were thick and gray above and he wondered idly if it was going to snow.
The grass beneath him was the color of rust and he picked at a few strands. There were green ones wedged in here and there, but overall everything looked about as rundown as he felt and an unpleasantly cold breeze eased past him, the air licking at his bare face and neck.
Bret had never realized how much he would miss civilization. Honking car horns and the smell of hot dogs, people yammering at one another. Everything was so silent here. Silent and cold and...it was like death.
Death...
Oh, this thought had never occurred to Bret. Maybe he was dead. Maybe this was some kind of limbo or hell or...
Bret groaned and flopped down on his back. No, no, no...
He couldn't take it anymore. If he had one more depressing thought...
The answer lies through water.
Bret sat up.
It was as if someone had just said the words aloud. They hadn't, at least, he didn't think they had, but...
He got to his feet and dusted himself off.
The answer lies through water.
Bret looked over the edge of the Drop. Cold, dark, black water lay below. Still and flat like a sheet of glass. Bret licked his lips. Could the answer be so simple?
Melig had said he was searching for home, that the answer lay through water. Bret blinked and felt his heart race. He had seen enough movies and read enough books to know that sometimes crazy, unpredictable acts were the only way. They always took place at the climax of the film, the music soaring, the hero or heroine doing something spectacular that made your blood stop in your veins at the sheer amazement of what they had just done...
Bret paced back and forth, looking over the Drop and then away, and then back again. He couldn't do this. No, no, no, he couldn't...
But then, Jemayn said he and Taika did it all the time. And they were walking around just fine. Mind you, they were probably just figments of Bret's imagination at the end of the day, but...
Okay, they might not be, because they certainly felt real, but, okay, but...
Bret rubbed his hands over his face and tried to get a hold of himself. Everything was bouncing about him now, like a pinball in a machine, spinning and whirling and trying to find direction.
He could feel it tug at him, that insatiable pull, like gravity, guiding him.
What choice did he have? What else could he do? This was crazy, yes, but then, so was everything else and he had to do something, right? He had to try, had to...
Bret raised a foot over the Drop, let it hang suspended in the open air. The fall down looked so, so far...
Bret pulled his foot back. He turned. He turned and he walked away, his back to the Drop. He stopped. He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. He thought of Jemaine. Bret thought of Jemaine and opened his eyes and turned, running blindly towards the Drop. He jumped off the edge.
* * * * *
The shocking cold tore through him like a knife. Bret had never known such sharp agony as this. It was everywhere. Needles of ice biting at every part of him, right down to the follicles of his hair.
He wanted to scream, but he had no voice. He was engulfed in the pain and the shock and the bitter, bitter cold. Freezing. He was freezing. He felt swallowed whole and buried, drowned...
Then, in a hot, flashing instant, it was over and he gasped as harsh, unforgiving air entered his lungs, a strong hand gripping at the collar of his shirt, tugging and yanking him and a voice cursing a blue streak.
He could only pick up bits of it, his body still coping with too many extremes to manage much else.
"...son of a..."
"...why would you..."
"...throttle you..."
Bret found himself jostled about and he was vaguely aware of being tossed over the back of something alive and someone was holding him, their grip firm but not necessarily unkind. And he felt sick and hurt and absolutely terrible as he was suddenly tossed about violently and then that stopped just as abruptly, more hands on him and the voice again, booming and angry and still he could only take so much of it in.
"...Socorra, need you to....idiot jumped in the...heat..."
Bret felt himself being lifted and it was almost like floating and slowly it all became more starkly clear. He was alive. He was in the manor. He was...
He licked his lips and blinked as he came to the realization that Jemayn was carrying him up the stairs. He struggled to speak but only let out a pitiful moan. Jemayn looked down at him distastefully, "Finally got a handle on your senses, you little fool?!"
Bret coughed and he felt some water escape his mouth, croaking, "....still...here..."
"You might not be, if you freeze to death!" Jemayn scowled and started to slowly lower him, "Come, come, on your feet...need to get you out of these wet clothes..."
Bret whimpered and flapped his hands, trying to protest, trying to push Jemayn away but Jemayn just ignored him, voice gruff, "Well, if you didn't want me to strip you, you shouldn't have jumped in the water at winter's end! Lucky you were, that you did not die from shock alone! 'Sides, I've seen you with naught on before."
Bret wanted to deny this, wanted to hide himself, but he felt too weak, too overwhelmed and Jemayn was tearing through his clothes as if they were no more cumbersome than wet paper towels.
He found Jemayn shoving him onto a bed and tossing a pile of covers over him as Socorra entered, "I've brought more blankets and bed warmers, master, as well as some additional kindling for your fire."
"Good, good, thank you," Jemayn took these things from her and then sent her on her way. He arranged everything as it should be, then stoked the fire in the fireplace, "You are lucky, thrall, that I like my room hot. This fire is at full blaze and, with what else Socorra brought me, I might be able to keep you from freezing. Though I would not have to do so, had you not-"
Jemayn stopped and groaned loudly, "For the love of...I can hear your teeth chattering!"
Bret had been unaware, up to this point, that his teeth were in fact, chattering, but now he became aware of the sound and shuddered. He still felt so wet, so cold. The center of his body throbbed with it. He rubbed his face against the pillow and he realized vaguely that he was in Jemayn's bed, snuggling deep into his covers and his pillow and...
He shivered as a warm, musky smell filled his lungs that was so achingly familiar he wanted to cry at the scent of it. Jemaine. Flip.
Jemayn stormed over and ran a large hand over his forehead, brushing at his wet curls, "If I had not been out for my morning ride...if I had not seen you," he shook his head, "When I saw you jump..."
Bret didn't answer and Jemayn looked at him, eyes hot, "You're pale as death, your lips are blue...are you not any warmer?"
Bret opened his mouth and nothing but indecipherable sounds left him. Jemayn scowled and brought his face closer to Bret's, "Is life here so terrible you would rather end it than face me? Answer, damn you!"
Bret struggled, managing a weak, "Can't..."
"Why not?!"
"...'fraid to..."
Jemayn rubbed at his eyes, "How many times must I say that you have nothing to fear from me? I would never harm you! Wish I could say the same in your regard, but you seem obsessed with causing me every conceivable torture..."
Bret's eyebrows knitted together and he opened his mouth to try and say more when Jemayn touched his forehead once more, "You are like ice. Furs would help, but gods know, you would not let me keep them. 'The poor animals', you say," his eyes darted about a moment before he patted at Bret's side, "Come. Move over."
Bret began to shake his head, eyes wild, "I-"
"You will do as I command!" Jemayn thundered, "Now shut up and move!"
Bret didn't have it in him to argue further and he slid over as much as possible. He tried to make sure there was some kind of blanket barrier between Jemayn and himself. Acutely aware, even despite his current state, that he was naked under the covers.
Jemayn stripped down himself until he wore only his undergarments, then proceeded to get under the covers himself. He ignored Bret's weak attempts at a barrier, his hands reaching out to rub strongly at Bret's arms and sides, his touch quick and sure, "Better?"
Bret's eyes squeezed shut tightly and he managed to shake his head.
Jemayn drew closer, his hands moving more quickly, "How about now?"
Bret took in a shaky breath and shook his head once more.
Jemayn grew even closer, his hot breath brushing Bret's face, ghosting over his closed eyelids, "...now?"
Bret felt himself trembling as a warmth started to pool in the center of him, his voice quivering, "Y-Yes."
Jemayn kept rubbing at his arms and his sides and the heat of everything started to curl in on Bret. He began to breathe more smoothly, his teeth no longer chattering and his hair was starting to change from sopping wet to merely damp. Even his toes felt as if they were defrosting.
Minutes passed in silence and more and more he felt himself melting, sinking into a heady warmth that relaxed and soothed him. Jemayn's hands continued to rub until they started to die off from their more harsh movements and into something more gentle...something more...caressing...
Bret shivered and it had nothing to do with being wet or cold.
His eyes opened, just mere slits, and he could see Jemayn across from him in the bed, close, so close.
Jemayn looked at him and when he spoke, his voice was deep and warmer than anything else Bret had experienced, "It comes to me...that perhaps I have been going about this the wrong way."
Bret stopped breathing.
"I have been barraging you with imagery and stories...perhaps a more personal approach..." Jemayn eased even closer and Bret wanted to pull away, wanted to run, but he felt rooted to the spot, his eyes widening as Jemayn's gaze drifted to his mouth.
Bret tried to shake his head, tried to do something, but Jemayn was just getting closer, that voice a seductive purr, "Your mind has forgotten me...but mayhap your body remembers..."
Jemaine's hands went to Bret's back, his strong arms cording around him, drawing him so close they were almost touching and fear, fear sharper and stronger than anything else began to choke Bret, "N-No."
"I know mine remembers you," Jemayn said, his eyes flicking to Bret's and suddenly he had one of Bret's hands, was holding it, his grip tender as he guided Bret's hand down, down, down and then...
"Here, feel me. How much I desire you...how hard you make me...it is aching with want of you."
And Bret could feel it. He was holding Jemayn...oh god...he was touching him there. And Jemayn was hard. Hard and hot and full against the palm of his hand and Bret had never touched...
Bret whimpered, an answering throb coming from his own body and oh god, oh god, oh god...oh no...he couldn't...he wasn't...
His fingers could feel Jemayn. The shape of him, the outline...so hard...so big...
Bret gasped, breathless, "J-Jemayn-don't-don't -"
"Shh, I'll be gentle...I promise you - some pleasure shall be had this day." Jemayn took Bret's hand away and Bret was surprised at how much he didn't want that and then Jemayn was rolling him oh so gently beneath him, and Bret was close to hyperventilating.
Jemayn run a hand down his chest, resting it just a bit below the scar, his voice full of wonder, "Your heart is beating fast...are you so afraid?"
Bret blinked, his eyes wet and wide, "I just...I didn't think...I don't..."
"If you want me to stop, I will," Jemayn said firmly, "This I vow."
"But...I...said...I...did..."
Jemayn smirked, "I will stop if you want me to stop. I have not heard such yet."
And Bret had to admit, he was unconvincing even to himself. His voice was weak, to be sure, but his 'don't's' and 'no's' were pitiful even to his own ears and his body, flip, his body was charged and shivering. Goosebumps were breaking out on his skin and he closed his eyes and he had never wanted something so badly in all his life.
Bret bit his lip and felt a quick rush of shame, followed by a strong, more lasting rush of desire. God, he wanted this.
And then he felt it, Jemayn's body touching his ever so lightly and Jemayn's lips just hovering along his neck, breath hot and Bret gasped, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as he made a huge, life changing decision with one word, "Yes."
Jemayn's lips brushed his skin, mouth open, his tongue licking the length of his throat and Bret released a bottled up moan. He felt like he was dissolving, like he was breaking apart into particles that would be swept up in some wild, crazy wind.
Jemayn's hands stroked his sides now, but not as they had earlier. These were the touches of a lover, sure and tender, and Bret felt as if his skin radiated with the feel of it. His own hands, which were bawling up the sheets beneath him, slowly released their death grip, relaxing enough to reach up and float above Jemayn's head.
Jemayn's mouth continued its trek down Bret's neck and to his chest, kissing reverently the scar that Bret shouldn't have and he gasped at that, surprised at how unspeakably arousing it felt, his hips arching just slightly.
Jemayn groaned then, the sound deep and almost painful, as Bret's lower body collided with his. He drew his mouth away, voice thick, "You will unmake me too soon...doing that...'s been too long..."
Bret's hands still floated above Jemayn and he saw them there, his voice coaxing, "You may touch me, thrall...in fact, I would delight in it..."
Bret felt unreal as he lowered his hands, his fingers curling through Jemayn's thick hair. Jemayn sighed happily and resumed his activities, licking and kissing Bret's body, taking one of the man's nipples into his mouth, teeth nipping at it gently.
Bret gasped and he tried to remember the last time anyone had done that. In some ways, it felt like he had never even had sex before. He always took everything so slow...
This was slow. But fast. But slow. But...
Bret's breathing seemed uncontrollable as Jemayn's mouth kept exploring him - the point of his tongue licking scribbling patterns, his teeth scraping across patches of exposed skin as he paused occasionally to suck almost hard enough to leave marks and in a way that thrilled and terrified Bret because he found himself wanting it, wanting Jemayn to mark him.
Bret felt his face flush red as Jemayn eased the covers further down his body, revealing more and more of his naked body to the open air. Jemayn's mouth was on his hips now, warm tip of his tongue tracing the hard line of his pelvic bone, leaving a searing streak of fire.
Bret squeezed his eyes shut. Oh god. Jemaine trailed moist, open mouthed kisses along him, his movements slow and leisurely, tasting, exploring, touching. Desire pulsed through Bret, made him tremble and ache and need. Never in his life had he felt this way...desperate and out of control and his head tipped back as he let out a low, deep moan. Christ, Jemayn was getting so close...
And then Bret felt it, hot breath gusting over the most hot, aching part of his whole being. He gasped, fingers tightening in Jemayn's hair, tugging just slightly and Jemayn grunted. Bret tried to loosen his grip, afraid he'd hurt him, but Jemayn just chuckled deep in his chest, "Impatient, aren't you?"
Bret tried to answer but all he managed were inelegant sounds that resembled whines. He couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe he wanted this, couldn't believe...
And then Bret forgot all about questions and answers and everything else in the whole world as Jemayn took hold of him, stroking his whole length once experimentally, before the burning, liquid pressure of his wet mouth engulfed him.
Bret cried out at the first contact, the feel of Jemayn's darting tongue on his cock and large hands wrapped around Bret's waist, pinning him into place while Jemayn moved at a speed that made Bret dizzy. There was absolutely nothing of sophistication or technique to this; it was all hot and wet and fast and hard; Jemayn's tongue was everywhere. Bret found himself losing language.
Bret's whimpered as he felt his climax building inside him, all ready so close to release as his body writhed beneath Jemayn's ministrations. It was too much. All of it was too much and he wanted to draw away, not wanting to come in his friend's mouth but then Jemayn...Jemayn was fumbling...his hands were...
Bret could see it then, Jemayn's mouth on him while Jemayn's hands freed himself, touched himself, stroking his own length and oh, oh, oh...
And suddenly all Bret could see, all he could fathom, was that it was Jemaine down there. Jemaine's bare, strong back, muscles working, Jemaine's hands moving, Jemaine's eyes looking back up at him, meeting his gaze and Bret watched with unspeakable arousal as his length darted in and out of Jemaine's parted lips, moving in time with the hand Jemaine had on himself.
Jemaine down there...sucking him and loving it...it was too much...he couldn't...
"Jemaine!" Bret sobbed as his orgasm tore through him, blinding him, his entirety swallowed up in one, white, hot heartbeat of time.
In the stunned aftermath, little tremors ran through Bret's limbs and his whole body felt light and languorous. The capacity for rational thought was still a little way off but he did have an unimpeded view of Jemayn kneeling over him with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, his eyes darker than Bret had ever seen them as wordless sounds left him, his hand starting to slow as his own release had finished. Then he moved upwards, collapsing over Bret in a boneless heap.
This was not what Bret had expected; but it turned out to be exactly what he wanted. Bret found that he loved the feel of being pressed down under the other man's weight. He felt safe. Owned. And that was unexpected too.
"That was...something," Bret said when he could remember how to string a sentence together. Jemayn rolled onto his side and scooped Bret up into an awkward embrace, planting lazy kisses on any part of the other man he could reach.
"Mmm," Jemayn agreed, with what could only be described as a snuggle. Bret wasn't used to sex being quite this cuddly, but he definitely thought he could get used to it. Still, something bothered him...
"Um...we-we did a lot, man."
"Hmm."
"But...um...you-you didn't...you didn't kiss me."
Jemayn looked at him now with one raised eyebrow and Bret could feel himself blushing as he did his best to explain, "'S just...mean...we-we did something real...uh...intimate but you didn't...we didn't..."
"You always shied away from my kisses before," Jemayn answered, his voice a sexy rumble that made Bret's blush worse, "I decided to forgo it."
"In favor of-of..."
Jemayn shrugged, a wicked smile on his face, "I guess we've discovered where your true priorities lie."
Bret felt like his blush might go from red to purple, face hot, as he whispered, "No, no...I'm not...didn't want you to just-"
"Shh, shh," Jemayn whispered, running a finger teasingly under Bret's chin, "Would you like me to kiss you now? Would you let me?"
Bret licked his lips, wondering why kissing seemed almost more intimate than what they had just done as he nodded weakly. Jemayn smiled and eased forward, his mouth meeting Bret's.
It was nothing more than a soft, gentle brushing of lip against lip that lasted no longer than a second, but just the tender movement of Jemayn's lips against his own caused a violent shiver to cascaded through Bret's body, leaving another trail of goose bumps in their wake.
Jemayn seemed more than prepared to draw back, end things at that, but Bret found his own hands coming to life, grabbing the other man, drawing him back, returning the kiss. Jemayn let out a pleased gasp but waited, waited, waited...waited to see what Bret would do. Waited to see if he would participate.
And Bret couldn't blame him...Jemayn had done so much up this point...so, cautiously, Bret opened his mouth, his tongue dragging hesitantly along Jemayn's lower lip, tasting, exploring the full curve of it.
Jemayn sighed dreamily, his own mouth dropping open now and Bret whimpered, a courage he didn't know he had building inside himself, as he let his tongue dipped into Jemayn's mouth.
Jemayn groaned then, pulling Bret against him. The moment Bret's tongue flicked against his own, Jemayn felt a lightning bolt of heat lodge in his chest. His own tongue met Bret's, dueled it, and the kiss quickly turned hot and demanding and passionate.
Bret's heart slammed against his rib cage and pounded a breathless, disjointed beat. A deep, formless longing engulfing him, making him ache and pulse and need, for...something. The feelings scared and exhilarated him. Bret felt blissfully alive and he wanted to touch Jemayn more, explore his body, but he couldn't force his arms to move and then Jemayn was drawing away, out of breath and smiling, "Best to stop now...don't think it wise to overexert yourself after everything else you've been through today."
Bret blinked, dumfounded, "What?"
Jemayn shook his head, laughing, "Have you all ready forgotten about throwing yourself off a cliff into stone cold waters? Almost drowning?"
"...feel plenty warm now."
"Mm, I'll just bet you do," Jemayn chuckled and gave him one more quick kiss, "No, no, trust me, Bret. I would like to continue just as much as you, but I think sleep t'would be best."
Bret wanted to argue but suddenly his eyelids did feel incredibly heavy and he yawned quietly. He found himself nestled deep into the bed, Jemayn cuddling him close and, right before drifting off to sleep, a drowsy realization struck him, "Jemayn..."
"Hmm?"
"Think...think I'm a bit gay for you."
Jemayn sighed, shaking his head, "Go to sleep, Bret. We'll talk about it when you wake."
And that's exactly what Bret did.