Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2684618.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rise_of_the_Guardians_(2012)
  Relationship:
      E._Aster_Bunnymund/Jack_Frost, Jack_Frost/Pitch_Black_(past_relationship)
  Character:
      Jack_Frost_(Rise_of_the_Guardians), E._Aster_Bunnymund, Pitch_Black_|
      Kozmotis_Pitchiner, Sanderson_Mansnoozie, Toothiana, Nicholas_St._North,
      Seraphina_Pitchiner
  Additional Tags:
      Porn, whoops_there's_plot, Hinted_Rape, hinted_drug_abuse, hinted
      physical_abuse, hinted_mental_abuse, mentions_of_underage_rape, mentions
      of_statutory_rape, rape/non-con_mentioned_throughout, underage_mentioned
      throughout, tell_me_if_i_need_to_tag_anything_else, please, Wordcount:
      100.000-150.000, graphic_depictions_of_violence_in_chapter_10, Bad_Ending
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-11-28 Completed: 2016-08-12 Chapters: 10/10 Words: 122910
****** Stray ******
by FMB
Summary
     Aster finds a stray in the bathroom at a gas station.
     Sometimes, a pet is more trouble than he's worth.
     Sometimes.
     [COMPLETE/DISCONTINUED?]
Notes
     Hey all....
     Alright so... This fic did not go where I had planned it to in the
     beginning. I have an ending in mind, like an actual one with a
     resolution and all, but.... This whole fic is such a chaotic mess
     that I'm not even sure I want to put in the effort for it.
     If y'all want it, maybe I'll post up a synopsis of what I planned to
     happen as like a chapter eleven, but as it stands now, consider this
     fic done.
     Thanks for understanding! Hope you guys have fun reading or rereading
     this fic lolllll
***** Chapter 1 *****
Aster was ashamed to admit that he liked to frequent a particular gas station
on the weekends. He never told his friends about it, never told his family, and
if he were ever asked where the closest, cheapest, or best gas station was, he
would point them in the completely opposite way. He dared not utter a word
about the practically abandoned station, set with a quick-e-mart and a two-
stall unisex bathroom, with one trough full of ice for the men set into the
wall. The blue-and-white repeating tiles gave the room a dorm shower feel to
it, especially since it reached from the floor to the ceiling, where it turned
into white planks of what might as well have been cardboard. There was a few
strange stains in the ceiling. Aster knew them well.
His 'habit' became a problem when he realized he would frequently make excuses
to not go out with friends on weekends just so he could spend and entire day in
anticipation for his trip in the evening, and what used to be a ridiculous
twenty-five minute drive just for a bottle of Faygo turned into the most
exciting ride he could have hoped for, and it all started one foggy night when
Aster was returning home. He was desperate to take a leak, and couldn't wait
the remaining half hour it would take him. Seeing the gas station as his saving
grace, he rushed into the disgusting bathroom and, despite the look of it, went
right for the trough, sighing in relief when he was no longer on the verge.
His silent satisfaction was interrupted right when he was done when he heard a
soft knocking on one of the stall doors. He cast a glance over his shoulder,
seeing one of them locked, the other open, and he could see two Converse-brand
sneakers peeking out under some jeans, just underneath the door.
“What?” Aster called out softly, raising a brow, “Need toilet paper or
something?”
When he didn't get a response, he clicked his tongue and muttered, “Hold on,”
before he shook himself off and zipped up his pants. He washed his hands
quickly, then went into the open stall to get a bundle of toilet paper for
whoever it was next door. He was about to stick the wad under the divider
between them when his eyes caught something... waist-level.
A hole was cut into the divider, close enough to the doors that Aster wouldn't
be able to peek inside and look at whoever was there, but far enough away to
allow a heavily built man like Aster to comfortably line up with. Above the
hole, someone had written in Sharpie, '$10 hand $20 mouth $60 <3 <3 <3' and he
heard another tap on the stall door.
Suddenly, a finger peeked through the hole, crooking at Aster as if to indicate
for him to hurry up and pay, and Aster felt his heart race.
“No way,” He breathed shakily, taking a step away from the divider and dropping
the wad of toilet paper, “No way, no way... what if you're, like... doing this
against your will?”
The finger stopped gesturing to him, vanished for a second, then a piece of
paper was stuck through the hole instead. Aster hesitated in taking it, but
when he did, he read it aloud.
“I'm horny and want you” He scoffed at his own words, politely handing the note
back, “Oh yeah? Then why don't you say it yourself? Look if you need help, I'll
call the--”
 Another note came through, and Aster grumbled, silencing himself so he could
take it and read it aloud once more.
“So you can picture what you want. I'll be what you want me to be. Girl or
boy.”
Aster squeezed the note in his fist clenching his jaw briefly, then grumbled,
“That still doesn't convince me before he handed that note back as well,
“Besides... I don't have any condoms.”
 He heard rustling for a few seconds, then out from the hole came two fingers,
and between them was a single condom, but when Aster made a move to swipe it,
the fingers darted back in, taking the condom with them. Aster gritted his
teeth again, and a single finger peeked out from the hole, wagging back and
forth, scolding him. It turned around, then, and crooked at him once more,
asking for the money.
 Aster sighed, knowing this was not a good idea. He could get a sickness from
this, probably. He could get his dick cut off. He could be fucking some
kidnapped girl, forced to do this against her will... But then his mind filled
with what  could  be on the other side, a beautiful, curvacious babe, with her
pussy dripping and nipples hard, or a thin, eager little twink, with a round
and slap-able ass...
 “How do I know you're really doing this for you, and not because you're forced
to?” Aster asked the other, not wanting to just be another man who took
advantage of someone who actually needs help, but not wanting to pass up the
chance at a possibly stellar blow, “How do I know you're of age?”
 He heard a heavy, annoyed sigh come from the other stall, the sound of the
shoe tapping impatiently, then a note peeked through the hole and Aster took
it, frowning as he read it.
“If you're not going to fuck me, then hurry up and leave. I'll wait for someone
else.”  He sighed again, and rolled his eyes, passing the note back through.
Aster considered leaving for a while, grinding his teeth in thought, and he
figured it would be better safe than sorry. He opened up his stall door, then
heard a sigh from the other, followed by a slick noise. He paused, his hand on
the open stall door, and he peered back towards the hole, able to see the
other's shoes, shifting against the tile floor.
 Whoever was in there... was touching themself. They wanted this... they were
eager for it... and that much was enough to convince the man. He stepped back
into the stall and shut the door behind him, locking it in place, and he heard
a breathy snicker, as if the other had won... and they really did.
 Aster pulled out his wallet with a frown, angrily tugged out forty bucks, then
shoved it through the hole, where greedy hands took it from him. A condom was
then slipped through the hole, and this time, Aster was allowed to take it, and
he was quick to open it. Opening up his pants, Aster slid the condom over his
half-hard cock, then anxiously slid in through the hole. He heard a huff from
the other side, almost disappointed, then felt a hot breath over his covered
skin.
 He tilted his head back and moaned when he was swallowed down. Whoever was on
the other side must have had practice, and they worked their tongue and
hollowed their cheeks like a pro, slurping and sucking at the latex as their
head bobbed. Aster could hear himself panting, could feel the moans bubble from
his chest, then he felt the head of his cock press against soft tissue—the back
of their throat.
 “Fuck...” He moaned, unable to grab onto anything but the top of the divider,
“Fuck...!”
 He felt the other pop off of his dick, and he nearly whimpered at the loss,
but then he felt those lips sliding up and down his shaft, and that tongue
poking out to swirl circles against his head. The other's hand gripped Aster's
boner tightly, pumping him as he suckled at the tip. Aster moaned again, his
eyes sliding shut, and when he thought he was going to pop, he growled out,
“Keep your head still. Keep it against the wall...”
 He felt the other's mouth slide over his cock once more, and when it stopped
going down, Aster grinned and panted, “Just like that... stay like that.” and
he began to thrust. He heard a surprised noise from the other, but even that
didn't give their gender away. They didn't try to pull away, so Aster continued
on, moving his hips faster and grunting as he fucked the other's mouth. He
could feel the other swallow around him, could feel their tongue press flat
against the underside, and just when he was beginning to doubt this was all
real, he came, filling the condom up, and his shout echoing in the bathroom.
 He pulled out of the hole, panting, and he tugged off the condom and tossed it
into the trash bin. He leaned heavily against the wall of the stall, trying to
catch his breath, then noticed two fingers peeking out of the hole, holding a
note. He took it with mild curiosity, and when he read what was on it, he
unknowingly became trapped.
'See you next time <3<3<3'
And ever since then, Aster was doomed to come over and over. He had at first
limited himself to blow jobs and hand jobs, not daring to take the risk of
anything further, but soon he became a 'regular' customer, as the notes passed
to him would say, and the person on the other side offered a 'freebie'.
“Since you visit me so much I want to show you what else I can do.”Aster read
aloud, then he looked at the hole in the wall with a frown, as if that was what
was giving him so much pleasure, “What do you mean? What are you going to--” he
stopped when a note appeared, and he took it and cleared his throat after
reading it.
'Just give me your cock and I'll show you <3<3<3'He read to himself this time,
and he let out a sigh as he considered it.
“You're not going to bite it off, are you?” He grumbled, getting a breathy
laugh from the other. Somehow, Aster felt as though he could trust the somewhat
stranger on the other side, and he unbuckled his pants and pulled himself out.
He stuck two fingers through the hole, then felt a condom packet slide between
them, and when he wrapped himself up and stuck himself through, he bit on his
lip and waited for what was to come. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he
could only hope it was good.
He felt the familiar sensation of hands running over his cock, noticing a
slight cold touch, which must have been lube. The hands squeezed around him in
fists, pumping him tightly a few times, then let go. Aster was barely able to
enjoy it. He was about to complain as much, but then he felt something else
press against the tip of his cock, and he gasped when he began to pierce it.
“Oh, God...” Aster gasped, and he heard a breathy gasp from the other as well
as they were filled. His dick was practically singing, his nerves going crazy
and he immediately bucked against the hole, making the other gasp sharply in
surprise, but they pressed back against him to urge him on.
“Yes...” Aster panted, gripping the top of the stall like he usually did, and
he immediately began to fuck into what he believed to be the other's asshole,
“Yes....Fuck!”
The divider that kept them apart rattled noisily as Aster fucked against it,
and he heard the other's hands slap down on the wall as if to keep them
upright, followed by rather desperate panting.
“Moan... c'mon...” Aster growled, slamming his hips harder against the
hole—against the other's body—but the other didn't obey. Aster felt almost
driven on by this silence, and he growled out, “I'll force it out of you,” as
he continued to fuck the other. He was determined to do just that, and he
rocked his hips harder against the wall, able to hear the other's shoes squeak
as they slipped along the tile, trying to keep the person upright. More panting
was heard, but not a single moan came from them, making Aster only work harder.
But his work went incomplete this round, as Aster moaned wordlessly, filling up
his condom just like always. He did hear a light whimper from the other, but it
was still an androgynous noise, leaving Aster to speculate.
But speculation came to an end when he heard a familiar dripping on the tile,
and he slowly pulled out of the other and the hole so he could clean himself
up. When the condom was thrown away and his cock tucked back into his pants,
Aster hesitated leaving, then said in his deep, gravelly voice, “You came all
over the floor... you filthy boy...”
The shuddering pants on the other side went silent, and Aster could feel
himself chuckle. He leaned on the divider between them, his fingers skirting
around the hole the other so masterfully placed, and he said next, “You're just
a horny teenage boy, aren't you? Waiting around in gas station bathrooms,
hoping the right guy will come by and fuck you right. You want it so bad...
don't you?”
He heard another gasp, soft and secretive, but Aster knew the other well enough
to know he was already touching himself again. The thought made him grin, and
he purred through the divider, “You need the right person in your life that can
control a little sex fiend like you. Someone who can spend all day making you
cum... or spend all day teasing you until the very brink of it, then refusing
to give you any more.”
The guy on the other side let out another heavy breath, and Aster watched in
amusement as the other fell to his knees, seeing as much as he could from
underneath the divider. A squelching noise came from him, and Aster slowly
lowered himself enough to see his arm reaching underneath himself, and Aster
knew he was finger fucking himself.
“I hear you over there,” Aster hummed, “fingering yourself. Pretending like
it's enough to satisfy you. But it stopped satisfying you long ago, hasn't it?”
He finally heard a desperate groan on the other side, and Aster could see his
hand working faster, then eventually pull away.
“Fuck me.” his voice came, and he was standing again. Aster could see him line
himself up with the hole, and he chuckled under his breath.
“No condom, no sex.” He stated, and shivered at the frustrated groan the other
guy gave.
The sound of a small cardboard box hit the floor, and the guy kicked it to
Aster with his foot. The man looked down at the box in surprise, then smirked
and picked it up, pulling one out and tugging out his hard cock once more,
wrapping it up and noticing it was pre-lubricated, though he wasn't sure if it
was as much as the guy used last time. Still, he pressed into the other once
more, not having to be so gentle since he was still very much stretched out,
and the guy moaned in relief at being filled once again.
“Fuck yes...!” The guy gasped, the sound of his hands slamming against the wall
to keep himself steady echoing through the bathroom once more, “K-Keep
talking... Please....”
“So you really are noisy, huh?” Aster growled, jerking against the hole
roughly, earning shout after pleasured shout, and he chuckled, “You think this
will tide you over, taking random strangers in bathrooms... but it won't. The
more you do this--” He shoved himself particularly hard into the other, getting
a loud moan from him as the divider rattled, “the more you'll need...”
“I need more...!” the man begged, his breath labored and his voice wavering,
“Give me more...!”
“But you couldn't handle what I would want to do to you,” Aster grinned,
gripping the top of the divider and keeping up his brutal pace, “You see...
boy...” and he could hear the other whimper at that, “You might have chosen the
wrong man to tie into your little stranger-fucking kink....”
“No....” the man panted, rocking his hips back against Aster's cock,
desperately trying to take more of him, “I need it... I need it...”
“If you need it so badly...--” Aster whispered, giving a few more well-aimed
thrusts until he heard that familiar gasping whimper, and he felt the other's
body clench up around him. He thrusted fast into that tightness, gritting his
teeth, and when he came for the second time that visit, he did so with a
shuddering moan, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself, and he slowly
pulled back out not too long afterward, earning a pitiful whine from the man.
He cleaned himself up once again, tossing the condom and zipping up his pants,
and he caught his breath before he finished his thought, “If you need it so
badly... then let me have you.”
He could still hear the other panting, but his voice came softly, asking a
simple, “Wh-what...?”
Aster bit down on his lip as he considered his next words, knowing that he was
about to reveal his own horrible kink, and he didn't want to scare the other
away or have him call him a freak, but the chances of him gaining from this was
much better than the fear of being denied. He sighed, then swallowed his nerves
down before he explained, “You're like a lost pet in here. Uncertain, relying
on instinct, only getting enough to get by. But if you were taken in and
bathed... groomed.... trained... You could find yourself in the lap of luxury.
You would be comfortable. Satiated. Taken care of, not passed around--”
“Is this... is this like a dom/sub thing you're talking about?” Their voice
came, filled with doubt, “P-Pet play... right? That's a thing...”
“... yes.” Aster replied softly, knowing it best not to lie to him, “and it's
an offer. What do you think?”
They were silent for a long while. Long enough to make Aster doubt himself.
When the other didn't seem to have an answer for him, Aster unlocked the stall
door and said softly, “Think about it. I'll come back like usual. You can tell
me then.”
He still didn't receive an answer, but he didn't let that stop him. He left the
bathroom without looking back, leaving the man for another week.
When he came back, as promised, he headed for the bathroom where he planned to
meet with his secret stall sex toy, but when he reached the door to the
bathroom, he was stopped by a rather waif-ish looking teenager, with bleached
white hair and a dirty pair of clothes. His eyes were a dull blue, tired
circles underlining them. His entire ensemble screamed homeless teen, but his
shoes gave him away.
Aster stopped where he stood, raising his brows in surprise at actually being
able to see the man above his ankles, and the teen cleared his throat a few
times, messing with his hair anxiously.
“D'you still want me?” He asked Aster, his eyes hard and his voice tight, and
Aster smirked at him.
“Is that a yes?” Aster asked him, and the teen's mouth worked silently until he
finally settled with a rough nod. Aster's face relaxed into a pleasant smile,
and he carefully pulled a collar from his pocket. The teen tensed up at the
sight, but Aster gave him a reassuring smile and said softly, “You don't have
to wear it. I just wanted to prove to you that it was real.”
The teen looked Aster in the eye once more, then glanced back at the collar
before he nodded again, and he slowly took a few steps towards Aster, looking
him up and down, though he tried to act like he wasn't. Aster didn't remark on
it, and he gently led him to his car, opening the door for him and sitting him
down inside.
When Aster went around and slid into the driver's seat, he turned to look at
the teen before asking, “What's your name?”
“J-Jack...” The teen replied, and Aster hummed before he nodded.
“I like it.” And he pulled away from the parking lot, “We'll give you a bath
first. You are in need of a washing.”
 
***** Take Me Home *****
Chapter Summary
     Look at what you made me do.
     Also, if someone knows some stuff about pet play so i can possibly
     continue this, I'd love to get a quick rundown on how it all works.
Living with Aster was strange for Jack. Aster realized soon enough that the
teen wasn't entirely comfortable just yet, especially with the way he barely
spoke to him. Aster wasn't sure what Jack had been through before, or why he
was on the streets at such a young age, but he knew he would do his best to
keep it from happening again. Besides, Aster knew an abuse victim when he saw
one.
Every time Aster rose a hand to touch him or even approach him too quickly,
Jack seemed to reel back in fear, though he wouldn't show it on his face. He
seemed to stay devoid of any emotion, and the only time Aster saw that change
was when he offered to give him a bath the same day he brought him home.
“S'okay...” He murmured shyly, his brows pinching together and his eyes darting
away, “I can do it myself.”
And Aster let him. He didn't want to overwhelm the boy, especially since he was
new to the idea of pet-play. Kinky stuff like that had to be worked up to and
talked about, Aster knew that. So he merely started the bath for him, letting
Jack test it like a child might, determining how hot or cold it should be.
Aster offered to fill the tub with bubbles, earning a light blush from the
strange teen, and Jack quickly refused, embarrassed by the offer. Aster left
him alone, then, telling him in a kind voice to call out when he was done, then
went to his bedroom to find a pair of pyjamas he could borrow. He pulled
together a t-shirt that was even large on himself, then some of his sweats,
hoping the drawstrings would allow it to fit on Jack's thin frame.
He started to cook them dinner, then, deciding on something light, just so that
Jack wouldn't upset his stomach. Aster wasn't sure how much Jack was used to
eating, and he didn't want to suddenly overwhelm him with a three-course
dinner.
When Jack was done, he didn't call out. Aster merely heard the bathtub begin to
drain, and after a few minutes, he stepped back out in his day clothes. Aster's
eyes widened when he saw him, and immediately went to him to push him into the
bedroom so he could change, but once he set a hand on Jack's shoulder, the teen
all but threw himself back, his face blank, but his eyes filled with fear.
“What did I do?” He asked immediately, and Aster paused, looking at him in
confusion, “What did I do?”
“What?” Aster asked aloud this time, then he shook his head and said, “No, you
didn't do anything, I just... Your clothes--”
“I'm sorry,” Jack immediately apologized, and Aster fell quiet again, “Th-
they're the only pair I h-have, I—”
“Jack,” Aster said firmly, and the teen's mouth snapped shut, his eyes wide as
they looked up at Aster, “I'm not angry with you. I wanted to give you
something else to wear, though.”
“I'm sorry,” He apologized again, and Aster shook his head and sighed.
“Don't apologize, you didn't do anything wrong.” Aster said to him, and Jack's
mouth opened again, about to apologize once more, but nothing came from his
throat. He looked confused and nervous, and decided to just shut his mouth
again. Aster looked over the teen for a few seconds, then slowly lifted his
hands, and even then, Jack flinched. Aster paused for a moment, waiting until
Jack relaxed, then he slowly put his hands on his shoulders.
“Look at me,” He said softly, and Jack's eyes darted up to his, though he
looked like he wanted to look away, “I will never hurt you, Jack. You don't
have to be afraid anymore. You're safe with me.”
Jack swallowed thickly, then nodded jerkily, though he didn't look like he
believed it. They looked at each other for a bit longer, then Aster brought a
hand up to Jack's cheek, stopping whenever he flinched or pulled away, and only
touched him when Jack allowed him to. He slowly brushed his thumb against his
cheek, then pulled him closer. Jack's eyes squeezed shut in preparation for a
kiss, and even then, Aster could tell how uncertain and uncomfortable he was.
Still, Aster leaned in, but instead of kissing his lips, he kissed his
forehead, holding himself there for a few seconds before he pulled away.
“Why don't we get your pyjamas on, huh?” Aster spoke in a soft voice, and
Jack's eyes slowly opened again. He thought about it for a second, then nodded,
and Aster smiled at him. He let go of his shoulders and told him, “They're in
the bedroom. On top of the bed. They might not fit you properly, but that's
okay. When you're ready, we'll go out and find you something comfortable to
wear.”
Jack nodded stiffly again, then turned to go into the bedroom, but when he
opened the door, Aster called out to him and stopped him.
“Do you mind if I wash your day clothes? I don't want to have you walk around
in an old outfit all day.” Aster asked him, and Jack looked confused as to why
he would ask, and not just do it.
He nodded silently, then said in a dry voice, “I'll give them to you when I
change.”
“Thank you,” Aster smiled, and he let Jack disappear into the bedroom, the door
barely making a noise as it slid shut.
Aster stared at the door for a moment longer, then sighed and turned back
towards the kitchen, shaking his head to himself as he continued to cook
dinner. When it was done, he quickly plated two servings, then set the table,
pouring a glass of water for Jack, and opening a beer for himself.
“Jack?” He called out softly when he didn't hear the other come out, “Are you
done dressing?”
Silence, and Aster decided to investigate. He went over to the door to the
bedroom, tapping on it lightly, “Hey, are you okay in there?”
“'M fine...” Jack replied, but his voice wavered, and Aster felt worried.
“Can I come in?” He asked, and when he didn't get a reply, he sighed and said
softly, “Dinner's on the table... Come out whenever you're ready.”
He lingered at the door for a moment longer, and when he was about to turn
away, it opened up just a crack, revealing the white-haired teen only
partially. He looked up at Aster, his eyes red and wide, and he asked in a
small voice, “Why're you being nice to me?”
“You know why,” Aster replied with a shrug, but Jack shook his head, looking a
little irritated now.
“I don't.” He said, opening the door a bit more, “S'why I'm asking.”
Aster was quiet for a while as he thought, and when he decided on an answer, he
merely said, “Because I'm fond of you. And I don't have a reason to be mean to
you.”
Jack wasn't sure if that was a good enough answer, but while he debated with
himself on what to say, Aster spoke up again and asked, “Hungry?”
Jack glanced up at him, then out to the living room, before he shook his head
fervently. Aster frowned, then asked, “Would you be hungry if you were alone?”
Jack hesitated, thinking about it, and he glanced up at him once more before he
nodded. Aster smirked a bit, happy he was able to figure him out at least this
much.
“Do you want to eat in the bedroom?” He asked him next, and Jack waited a few
more seconds before he nodded a third time. Aster nodded in response, then
stepped away from the doorway. Jack stood there, watching him the entire time
through the crack, and he saw Aster stop at the table, pick up a plate and the
glass of water, then bring it back. He opened the door a bit wider to accept
the plate of food and the glass, then he looked up at Aster for a long moment,
looking conflicted.
“Thanks.” He said flatly, and Aster shrugged back.
“When you're done, just set the dishes on the cabinet. I'll get them in the
morning.” He replied, and Jack's eyes widened a little. Aster rose a brow at
his expression, a small smile coming to his lips, so he asked, “What's that
look for?”
“Nothing,” Jack was quick to say, then he paused for a moment before he
muttered, “Where... am I sleeping?”
“In my bed, with me.” Aster replied, seeing how Jack immediately began to shift
around uncomfortably. He waited a few more moments, wondering if Jack would
refuse, but when he didn't, he added, “Unless you'd rather sleep alone?”
Jack hesitated for a bit longer, then nodded stiffly, and Aster smiled.
“Then you can sleep in the bed by yourself.” Aster decided, and Jack
immediately started shaking his head.
“No, that's your bed.” He pointed out, and Aster merely shrugged.
“I don't mind sharing it for a bit, Jack,” He said, but Jack still refused, his
face turning a light pink with how much he was shaking his head.
“I'll sleep on the couch.” He decided, and in order to end the conversation
there, he shut and locked the door. Aster waited a few seconds, then sighed and
stepped away, knowing the other didn't want to talk anymore.
He went to the table by himself, like usual, but he didn't feel as lonely as he
usually did. He ate in silence and only drank two bottles of beer, and when he
was done and washing the dishes, he heard the bedroom door open again, followed
by soft footsteps.
He looked over his shoulder, just in time to see Jack freeze up and duck behind
the wall between the kitchen and the living room. Smirking, Aster turned away
again, pretending to wash his dish while he waited to hear those light
footsteps, and when he did, he tried to secretively peek over his shoulder.
This time, Jack was caught well past the archway from the living room to the
kitchen, and he froze up, unsure what to do. He had the dirty plate and empty
cup in his hands, and his face sported a few specks of food. He glanced at the
sink for a moment, and Aster stepped aside and gestured to it. Jack stood still
for a few more minutes, looking between Aster and the sink, then he rushed
towards it and did his best to lightly place the dishes down while going
quickly, and when they were out of his hands, he rushed back to his hiding spot
behind the wall, and he watched Aster from behind it.
Aster chuckled at his little display, and continued to wash the dishes, rinse
them off, then dry them before placing them back where they went. When the sink
turned off, he turned to look at Jack, who tucked himself further behind the
wall, and he asked him in a soft voice, “Want some blankets?”
Jack blinked at him, then nodded once, and Aster stepped away from the sink and
headed towards the linen closet, pausing in front of Jack to gently stroke his
cheek. He smiled at him, even when Jack flinched at first, then continued on
and opened up the closet.
“How many would you like?” He asked him over his shoulder, pulling two out at
first, then another one when he thought of how cold it was getting lately.
“One's good....” Jack replied softly, slowly stepping towards the couch he
would be sleeping on, and Aster clicked his tongue.
“You sure? It's pretty cold these nights,” He mentioned, and Jack shrugged,
even though Aster wasn't looking at him.
“I like it...” He murmured, and Aster turned a bit more to look at him, his
brow raised curiously.
“Well, if you need more, they're right here.” He said, putting the two lighter
blankets away, and giving Jack the thicket blanket he had that wasn't a
comforter. Jack took it carefully, making sure their hands didn't brush, and
when it was in his arms, he rushed back towards the couch and unwrapped it,
laying down and spreading it out over him.
Aster watched him from where he stood, amused by his childish ways, thinking to
himself how much Jack reminded him of a meek kitten, then he found himself
asking, “Want to be tucked in?”
Jack looked up in surprise, his cheeks tinting a light red, then he looked down
at the blankets before he shook his head, laying down completely and turning
his back to Aster, who chuckled softly and closed the linen closet door.
“I'll be right next door if you need anything, okay?” He said softly, and Jack
didn't reply. He waited for a bit longer, then headed to his bedroom before he
paused, remembering something, “And help yourself to anything, Jack. If you're
thirsty or cold, you can get up and get what you need, okay?”
Still no response, but Aster believed it was important to tell him that. He
didn't want the other thinking he was bound to the couch until Aster woke up,
anyways. He watched Jack for a minute or two, wishing he would just slide into
bed with him and press that lithe body against his, but he knew the other
wasn't ready for anything intimate like that. Maybe he was when there was no
emotional value to it, but allowing Aster to take him home was already more
than enough for the young man.
He said a soft, “Good night, Jack,” before he went into his own room, though he
didn't close the door behind him. He didn't want Jack to think he was bothering
him at all if he needed him, and he figured and open door would make it easier
to hear him, in case he was still too nervous to ask for something.
He dressed himself in his own pyjamas, not noticing Jack peeking over his
shoulder to watch him, then he slipped into bed and sighed comfortably, his
eyes immediately falling shut. He was tired, and he thought he deserved a good
sleep.
But sleep wasn't easy to come by, it seemed, and Aster awoke in the middle of
the night to the sound of Jack moving around on the couch and mumbling in his
sleep. Aster slowly sat up, looking through the doorway to see him fidgeting,
then rolling over and shifting around some more. His eyes were still closed,
though, so Aster figured he was having a bad dream.
Standing up from his bed, Aster quietly padded over to the living room, and
when he reached the couch, Jack's eyes snapped open and he sat up in a rush. It
took him a moment to realize Aster was standing in front of him, and that
apparently trained stoic face he had worn all day was gone, lost to an
expression of utter fear.
“I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to wake you, I-I'm sorry!” He immediately began to
apologize, and Aster's expression turned from worried to surprised. The teen
was practically at the edge of tears, so Aster knelt down in front of him,
looking into his eyes, and he shook his head.
“Hey, hey, it's okay! It's not your fault,” He tried to reassure him, but when
Jack didn't look like he was listening, he reached forward and cupped Jack's
face with both of his hands, forcing him to look at him. Jack's eyes widened
and he held his breath, his own hands curling tightly in the blanket, and Aster
whispered to him, “I'm not going to hurt you, Jack... Please believe me...”
Jack's bottom lip trembled and his eyes watered, and he shook his head no, but
Aster wouldn't allow it, “Trust me, Jack... At least a little...”
“I can't...” He whimpered, and Aster leaned in to him a little, still holding
his face, and he gently pressed his forehead against Jack's. The teen shuddered
at the gesture, his eyes slipping shut for a moment, and when he opened them
again, Aster was still watching him.
“Just trust me for five minutes, then. Can you do that?” He asked him, and Jack
swallowed nervously. He took a few minutes to think about it, his breathing
heavy and shallow, then he nodded.
Aster looked at him for a bit longer, then whispered, “Just five minutes...”
and he stroked Jack's cheek with his thumb. He let go of him, then, and asked,
“Can I lay with you?”
Jack worried at his bottom lip but eventually nodded, and they shifted around a
bit until Aster was pressed against the back of the couch, and Jack laying
neatly in his arms. Their torsos pressed against each other's as they laid
together, Aster looking down at Jack and Jack staring down at his chest.
Aster's arms tightened around the other, but not enough to squeeze him, just to
bring him closer, and he tilted his head down to kiss Jack's forehead.
Jack's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and though he was still tense in
Aster's arms, he seemed to be a bit more comfortable than he was all day. Aster
began to slowly stroke his back, working a soft sigh from the teen, and slowly,
his muscles began to unwind, and he turned into putty in Aster's arms.
The older man continued to rub his back, smiling a little the more comfortable
Jack became, and finally, he asked him, “Do you prefer this? Or having a wall
between us?”
“This...” Jack whispered back, his eyes still closed and his back arching to
Aster's touch, “But...”
“But... you're not used to it, are you?” Aster finished for him, and Jack's
eyes opened halfway, though he didn't look at Aster. He nodded slowly, and
Aster continued to rub his back, “We'll go slow, then. Until you are.”
“But...” Jack spoke up again, his brow furrowing, “Don't you want... me?”
“Of course I do,” Aster answered without hesitation, “And I have you right
now.”
“I mean... don't you want to fuck me?” He asked again, still not looking up at
Aster, even when he laughed under his breath.
“Yes,” He answered again, a small smile coming to his lips, “But I wouldn't be
fucking you if you didn't enjoy it too. Besides, I want more than sex, Jack. I
want all of you.”
“What do you mean?” He asked, sounding nervous, and Aster hummed as he thought
about it.
“I mean... I want everything you have to offer. Your body, your mind, your
love... anything you're willing to give me.”
Jack looked up at Aster this time, uncertain, then he asked, “And if I give you
nothing?”
“Then I'll take that, too.” Aster said, and Jack stared at him for a bit
longer.
“And what if I... What if I take everything you give me and just leave?” He
asked, and Aster's smile faltered a little. Jack began to worry, wondering if
that wasn't the right thing to say, and he was about to apologize when Aster
sighed.
“Then I'll be sad,” He murmured truthfully, “But I'll just have to hope that I
gave you enough.”
Jack stared at him quietly, and Aster peeked at him, raising a curious brow.
After a bit longer of silence, Jack murmured, “You're crazy.”
Aster's brows shot up in surprise, and he saw regret pass over Jack's face
immediately, so he merely laughed. Jack's eyes darted up to him in shock, and
Aster continued to laugh, and he held the boy tighter to him.
“Maybe I am,” He agreed, and Jack relaxed again. Aster rubbed his back for a
bit longer, then sighed and said, “My five minutes are up, aren't they?”
Jack was quiet again, but he nodded, and Aster huffed and started to get up.
“Well, I'll let you sleep now, okay?” He said, and Jack let him get off the
couch, but he shifted around so he could watch Aster walk back to his bedroom,
“No more nightmares, got it?”
Jack watched him some more, then nodded, getting comfortable where he laid
again, and Aster yawned and went back to his bed, getting in and pulling the
blankets up to his chin.
After that night, things between them was a bit more relaxed. Jack still
couldn't seem to bear being too close to Aster, but he upgraded from eating in
the bedroom alone to eating in the living room while Aster ate at the table. If
Aster looked at him while he ate, Jack would stop and wait for him to look
away.
They didn't talk much, and when they did, it was mostly Aster doing it. Jack
only replied in half-sentences and grunts, and his face was as stoic as ever.
The closest they came was when they watched TV on the couch, but even then,
they sat at opposite ends.
The next few days went on like this, Jack setting the distance and Aster doing
the talking, and every night at midnight, Aster would wake up to Jack having
another nightmare. He would get up and wake the teen, and after Jack was
settled down, they spent the next five minutes laying together. Aster would rub
his back and kiss his forehead, and Jack would finally relax, taking in all
Aster was giving him.
The third night, after Aster got up from the couch and went back to his
bedroom, the man could feel Jack watching him, even minutes after he had laid
down. Aster didn't call him out on it, though, and merely shifted around until
he was comfortable and closed his eyes, intent on falling asleep.
But a few minutes later, he heard shuffling from the couch again. He peeked an
eye open, spotting Jack slowly getting up from the couch with the blanket
wrapped around his shoulders. He watched Aster for a bit longer, as if trying
to see if he was asleep or not, then began to creep forward. His steps were
light and almost completely undetectable, and Aster quickly closed his eyes
when the other reached the threshold of his bedroom, then he stopped. He waited
at the door for a bit longer, then continued forward, going up to the side of
the bed Aster wasn't laying on, and he stared down at him for a bit. Aster kept
his eyes closed, feigning sleep, and he wasn't sure if Jack was convinced or
not, but the teen seemed to be fine with it. Jack slowly reached out, placing
his hand on the bed, and when he creaked, he froze again.
Aster could hear his breathing now, shaky and light, and when Jack deemed it
safe, he added more weight on the bed along with a knee, making it creak more.
He held his breath now, and continued to climb on top of the sheets, and when
he was completely on, he slowly laid himself down, pulling the single blanket
Aster had given him the first night
When he was lying down and comfortable, he let out his breath, then smiled and
closed his eyes, curling up into a ball and tucking the blanket under his chin.
Aster peeked an eye open, and he felt his heart jump at having Jack so close,
but he didn't say a word. He only smiled to himself, and he closed his eyes
again and began to fall asleep,
When he woke up the next morning, Jack was still asleep, curled up in a little
ball and looking like he was having the best dream. Aster couldn't help
himself, and he leaned in to give the teen a kiss on the forehead before he
quietly got up. He went to the kitchen to start making breakfast, pulling
together some eggs, bacon, and hashed browns. When he was about done, he heard
the bed creak as Jack got up, and he smiled and waited until those footsteps
crept up to the archway.
“G'morning.” He called out over his shoulder, not turning around so he didn't
scare the other, and Jack mumbled in response, “Sleep well?”
He mumbled again, stepping up closer to Aster and taking a look at what he was
cooking. Aster looked down at him, smiling when he saw the oversized shirt
hanging off of his shoulder and the blanket in his hands. His eyes looked
sleepy, like he was ready to knock out again if given the chance.
“Hungry?” He asked next, and Jack nodded his head while he mumbled. Aster
finished plating the food, and he handed Jack his plate. The teen took it with
one hand, still holding his blanket, then he turned around and paused,
considering where to sit. When he decided, he shuffled towards the kitchen
table and sat down in the seat across from where Aster usually sat, and he
began to eat.
Aster watched him for a little, then plated some food for himself and joined
him at the table, smiling a bit more when Jack didn't get up and leave. They
ate together in silence, and when they were halfway done with breakfast, Jack
looked a bit more awake, and he said to Aster, “Talk a little...”
“About what?” He asked him, and Jack shrugged his shoulders and finished off
his eggs. Aster continued to eat, trying to think of a topic, then he asked
Jack, “do you want to go find some clothes today? I know we've been sitting
around at home for the last few days, so... stretching out your legs might be
good.”
Jack hummed softly, still eating, and after he thought about it some more, he
nodded lightly. Aster smiled, then said, “Your other pair of clothes are clean.
You can wear those for now.
“M'kay.” Jack replied, and they ate the rest of their breakfast in silence.
When they finally went out to find Jack a new wardrobe, the entire time they
walked around the mall, Jack held onto Aster's arm. The older man didn't mind
it, and when it got a bit more crowded, Aster wrapped his arm around him and
held him close. Jack's face lit up like a light at the gesture, and he would
glance up at Aster shyly as he was held.
They didn't spend too long there, since Jack was getting uncomfortable with the
crowd, but they were successful in finding five or so pairs of clothes for him,
and even two more pairs of shoes. They piled them all in the car, then got in
themselves, and they took a moment to rest from their shopping. Jack sighed as
he leaned back in the passenger's seat, looking worn out, and he looked over at
Aster, who was looking at him as well, looking just as tired. Aster smiled at
Jack, and Jack wearily smiled back. They stared at each other for a bit longer,
then Jack slowly pushed himself up, Aster's eyes following him.
“Aster?” Jack spoke up, and Aster hummed curiously, still watching Jack. The
teen chewed at his bottom lip for a moment, his brow furrowing, then he asked,
“Can I do something selfish?”
“Of course.” Aster replied without question, still watching Jack. He briefly
recalled Jack mentioning the chance of him taking everything Aster gave him and
leaving, and he felt his stomach curl in worry. Jack stared at him for a bit
longer, then took in a slow breath and nodded.
“Okay, um... Close your eyes.” He said, and Aster frowned a bit and did as
told. He heard Jack shifting around in his seat beside him, and wasn't sure
what to expect until he felt something soft against his lips.
His heart leapt at the feeling, and his hand immediately went up to Jack's
cheek. His fingers curled against his cheek, pulling him closer, then went to
the back of his neck. Jack sighed at the touches, his breath tickling Aster's
skin, then he tilted his head a bit and pressed his tongue in, surprising
Aster. He accepted his kiss eagerly, though, groaning softly and letting Jack
take the reigns. Jack brushed his tongue against Aster's teeth, then pressed
against Aster's tongue, moaning himself.
Jack's heart was racing, filled with a mix of fear and excitement. He had
always been afraid of men due to what his last boyfriend had done to him, and
Aster's size and muscle mass didn't make him any less terrifying, but with the
way he had treated him so far... even when they were merely meeting up in the
gas station bathroom, Aster had always been kind and gentle. Aster had been so
kind, he hadn't even tried to do anything to Jack when he joined him in his bed
last night. He didn't even put an arm around him without his say so.
Jack climbed skillfully onto Aster's lap, kissing him a bit more desperately
than before. He wanted to show him he wasn't afraid of him, that he trusted
him, but he knew the fear was still there. It would always be there... but Jack
believed that Aster knew that. He felt Aster's hand on his neck slowly go down
to his shoulder, then brush over it and go down his side, but when Jack
instinctively moved away from his touch, his hand went back up to his shoulder,
not daring to go further. Jack made a soft noise as a thank you, and he
continued to kiss him, pulling away for only a second to catch his breath. He
leaned back in to nip at Aster's lip, panting lightly, and Aster groaned at
each nibble, his entire body tingling with want. He hands held Jack tighter by
the shoulders, but when he leaned back, Aster let him go.
Sitting up on Aster's lap, now, Jack looked down at him with rosy cheeks and a
shy expression, and Aster smiled at him.
“You call that selfish?” Aster asked him, and Jack smiled a bit and lowered his
gaze, looking way too cute for Aster to stand it.
“Whaddya think would be selfish?” Jack asked him, and Aster hummed at the
question.
“I think it would be selfish if you meant nothing by that kiss...” He spoke up,
and Jack bit his bottom lip, his eyes flickering up to him.
“And if I said I didn't?” He asked, and Aster pursed his lips, his thumb
rubbing against Jack's shoulder.
“Then I'd ask if you felt better kissing me.” Aster decided, and Jack shifted
around on his lap briefly.
“And if I did?” He asked this time, and Aster smirked and shrugged.
“Then I'd tell you to be selfish more often.” He said, and Jack smiled a little
more, leaning in to give Aster one last peck to his lips.
“Well...” He said in a soft voice, “I... I dunno if I meant it or not, but...
it made me feel a lot better...” and he settled down against Aster's chest,
enjoying the closeness and knowing Aster wouldn't do anything to make him
uncomfortable on purpose. Aster sighed as Jack got comfortable against him, and
he lightly placed his hand on top of Jack's head, stroking his hair. Jack
smiled more at the touch, closing his eyes for a moment, then he asked him,
“Can we go home, now?”
“Of course.” Aster said, “But you'll have to go back to your seat, okay? I
can't drive with a cute thing like you taking all my attention.”
Jack laughed softly, and he climbed back out of Aster's lap and into his own
seat pulling the seat belt back over him.
The drive home was quiet, but no longer tense, and when they got back to the
apartment, Jack helped Aster carry his things upstairs. He placed his own bags
to the side of the door, and when Aster came in, he merely took the bags from
him and set them aside. Aster chuckled at his impatience, and when all the bags
were bundled together beside the door, Jack looked at Aster and said, “Thank
you...”
“Of course.” Aster replied with a smile, “Just, uh... promise me you won't run
off with it all tonight, huh? At least stay till the end of the week?”
Jack smiled at him and nodded, and he went over to the bags of clothes to look
at them, admiring them all over again as he pulled them from his bag, then
folding them and putting them back.
“Want to change into your pyjamas?” Aster asked him, heading towards the
kitchen to make dinner, “I think we should bathe you first, though. Then you
can wear your new pyjamas to bed.”
Jack hummed softly, pulling out said pyjamas from the bag, then he looked at
Aster and asked, “Do you want to bathe me?”
“Yes. If you agree to become my pet, then I'd bathe you every time.” Aster
mentioned, and Jack was silent for a bit before he placed the pyjamas onto the
ground.
“Your pet...” Jack repeated, his voice soft, and Aster paused his cooking to
look at him, “What... does that mean, exactly?”
Aster continued to look at him, then he sighed and put his knife down and
washed his hands. “Why don't you take your bath, hmm? We can talk about it over
dinner. It will be a long conversation, and I'm sure you'll have a lot of
questions.” He suggested, and Jack frowned a little and looked away.
“Will you...” He started, but his voice petered off into silence. Aster waited
for him to continue, and when he didn't, he walked towards him and knelt down
in front of him. He brushed his fingers against Jack's cheek, urging him to
look at him, then smiled.
“Go on, Jack. Tell me what you're thinking.” He said, and Jack pressed his lips
together for a time before he nodded.
“Will you bathe me?” He asked, and Aster's brows shot up in surprise, “Just to
see what it's like. I just want to test it.”
“Of course,” He affirmed, a small smile coming to his face, “Sure, we'll...
we'll get you cleaned up right now.”
Jack smiled at him, and got up with Aster. Together, they went into the
bathroom, and Aster started running the water. He let Jack lean in to test it,
and when he confirmed the temperature to be perfect, Aster nodded and rolled up
his sleeves.
“Oh, um... do you want to undress yourself, or--?” Aster began to ask, but Jack
interrupted him.
“Just do what you would usually do.” He said, and Aster sighed a little and
shook his head.
“I don't do anything without my pet's consent.” He stated firmly, and Jack
blushed a little and nodded.
“Then, um.... I-I'll do it.” He decided, hands going up to his sweater and
tugging it off of himself. His shirt followed that, and then his pants and
socks. Left there in his boxers, Jack started to feel embarrassed, and he
fumbled with the waistband for a little. Aster continued to watch him, but when
he realized he wasn't making any progress, he said, “You can keep them on if
you'd like. I won't touch you anywhere you don't want me to.”
Jack looked up at Aster, his cheeks bright red, but he nodded and stood up,
still wearing his boxers. He looked at the tub, filling up with warm water, and
Aster said, “We'll dry them when you're all done. Why don't you get it and get
used to the temperature while I go get your towel and clothes?”
Jack nodded obediently, and began to step into the tub. When he was sitting
down, Aster got up to collect the necessary items, and when he returned, he set
them all on the toilet seat.
With the water up to Jack's waist, now, Aster stopped the taps and looked over
him, feeling elated to see him like this. Jack was still anxious, of course,
and Aster could see him shaking, so he got the soft sponge from the side of the
tub and dipped it into the water. He ran it over Jack's shoulders, letting the
water run down his body, and the teen let out a soft sigh of comfort, his eyes
closing.
“Now, if, um... If you agree to be my pet, and you allow me to bathe you like
this,” he paused to dip the sponge and run it down Jack's arm, watching him
relax more and more as the warm water ran down his body, “Depending on what we
agree on, ideally, I would join you in here. And ideally, you wouldn't be
wearing your boxers. If you're a good boy--” he saw Jack shiver at the
statement, “--then I might reward you, either with treats or, if you'd prefer,
something sexual.”
“And if I'm bad?” Jack asked him, looking up at Aster with wide eyes. Aster
paused for a moment, looking at him, and he knew Jack was worried about
punishments.
“Some Doms like to put their pets in cages or discipline them physically...”
and he could see Jack's eyes fill with fear, worried about his past repeating
itself, but Aster quickly added, “But I prefer either orgasm denial or putting
my pet in the corner. Much less painful for both parties, and much easier to
organize and explain off than a cage.”
Jack relaxed at this, letting out a relieved breath, and Aster did another pass
over his shoulders with the sponge.
“But Jack,” He spoke up, watching the water roll down his pale skin, following
criss-crossing patters only faintly apparent along his back, “If you do agree
to this... to being my pet... You'll have to tell me about yourself. And about
your... past relationships.”
“Aster--” Jack whined, but Aster cut in before he could go any further.
“If you've been in an abusive relationship before this, I need to know.” He
said, and Jack froze up for a moment before he turned to face Aster, his eyes
wide.
“How did you know?” He asked, his heart pounding, but Aster only gave him a
sympathetic smile.
“You might have been a little vixen in the bathroom stalls, but once you were
in my care... it became obvious.” He said, and he dropped the sponge into the
water before he ran his fingers down Jack's bare back, feeling the welts and
scars himself. Jack shivered a little, then looked away quickly, his eyes
filled with shame.
Aster tilted his head a little, then sighed and reached out, guiding Jack's
chin so he was looking at him again.
“Hey,” He said softly, meeting Jack's eye, even though he didn't really want
to, “Listen to me... No matter what we agree on or decide together, I will not
hurt you. No matter what kind of punishments or rewards we decide on, I will
not hurt you. I'll cherish you, and I'll pamper you, and I'll treat you however
you want to be treated, okay?”
Jack swallowed thickly as he listened to him, his eyes locked on Aster now, and
he gave a short nod, “Okay...”
“Now let's finish cleaning you, okay?” Aster said, and Jack nodded again, his
eyes still teary and his bottom lip trembling. Aster smiled at him again, and
picked the sponge back up and started washing him off again, adding some soap
to really clean him off. As he washed him, he spoke in a gentle voice, saying,
“You'll be a pampered little thing... So spoiled rotten that you wouldn't know
what to do with yourself.”
Jack couldn't help but smile at the idea, and he said in a wavering voice, “You
just want to make me dependent on you....”
“Of course I do,” Aster grinned, “You'd be my pet. My little bunny, and I'll
take good care of you.”
Humming softly, Jack wiped at his eyes for a moment before he said, “It sounds
nice... I won't have to do anything, huh?”
“If you want to be my pet all the time, then no. I'll work and feed you and
take care of you, and all you have to do is be my bunny.” Aster replied,
rinsing out the sponge to wipe the soap from Jack's skin, “But this is all
stuff that we have to agree on beforehand. And even if you want to be my rabbit
full time, we can always take days off or hours off so you can just be
yourself.”
“Have you had other pets before?” Jack asked, and Aster nodded.
“Two before you.... if you agree, that is.” He corrected himself, a small,
embarrassed smile coming to his face, “One of them was a bunny, like I wanted
them to be, but the other was a kitten. He was more inclined to that kind of
animal, I guess.” He explained with a shrug, “But I've had other boyfriends who
weren't into this kind of play. Three, I think.”
“And you were okay with that?” Jack asked with a look of surprise. Aster
shrugged and nodded, reaching over to empty out the tub now that they were
done, and he helped Jack stand up. He wrapped the towel around him, and Jack
paused to pull off his wet boxers, leaving them in the tub, then he stepped out
and Aster helped him dress, though Jack didn't drop the towel until his pants
were on.
“I'll admit, I was a little disappointed when they refused,” Aster continued to
talk, drying off Jack's arms before he pulled the night shirt onto him, “But I
had a good relationship with each of them. Even without the kink.”
Jack hummed softly, touching the fabric of his new pyjama shirt with his
fingers after Aster buttoned it up, then said softly, “I'm hungry.”
“I'll go finish cooking, then. Why don't you watch TV in the meantime?” He
suggested, and Jack nodded and went to the living room, curling up on the couch
to watch some television. Aster finished up dinner quickly, and when it was all
done, he merely brought the plates to the living room, handing one to Jack.
He immediately began to eat, his eyes still on the TV, and they only jumped to
Aster when he turned it off.
“So I've told you a little bit about pet play...” He said, and Jack shifted
around where he sat in order to face him, still eating his food, and he nodded,
“I can always give you more time and some resources to do your own research on
it, and I think that would be for the best. But if you don't want to do that, I
can just tell you all I know, and we can discuss and agree on what we want or
don't want in our relationship.” Aster took the lead, and Jack listened to
every word with a serious look. When he was done, he began to nod fervently.
“I think... I think this is what I want.” He said, and Aster's eyes lit up
beautifully.
“Are you sure?” He asked him, and Jack nodded again. Aster smiled wide,
relieved and excited, and he wanted to pull Jack into a kiss, but he held off.
He didn't want to startle the teen.
“We'll talk about it, of course.” He said, and Jack nodded again, “But we'll,
um... We'll talk about it tomorrow morning. I have work tomorrow, and I think
it might be better to give you some time to think in case you change your
mind.”
Jack nodded once more, then finished his dinner and said, “Can we sleep now?”
“Let me just wash the dishes first.” Aster replied with a smile, taking Jack's
dish from him and bringing them to the sink. He washed them quickly, hearing
Jack opening the linen closet in the living room and pulling out his blanket,
so he called out to him, “Sleeping on the couch again?”
“No, I just like this blanket,” He replied with a light voice, and Aster heard
his feet patter across the floor and into the bedroom.
Aster chuckled to himself, finishing the dishes, then he wiped off his hands
and headed to his bedroom. He found Jack already curled up on the bed, the
blanket wrapped tightly around him as he laid there in a ball, and he watched
as Aster began to strip. The older man turned his back to Jack after he tugged
his shirt off, and he took off his pants, leaning over to tug them down, and he
heard Jack let out a soft gasp.
He peeked over at the teen, who was staring at him with wide eyes, and he
smirked at him and stood up straight.
“Enjoying yourself?” He asked, and Jack bit on his bottom lip and hid under the
covers, getting a light chuckle from Aster. He turned away from him again and
finished removing his pants, then he pulled out his pyjamas—a tank top and a
pair of sweats, like usual—from his dresser, and he began to slip them on. When
he pulled the sweats on, he heard a disappointed sigh from the other, but he
didn't comment. He merely smirked to himself, and he tugged his tank on quickly
before he turned to look at Jack, who was staring at him from under his
blanket. The teen squeaked and tugged the blanket back over his face, and Aster
clicked his tongue and went to the bed, climbing on and laying down. He pulled
the blankets over himself, being careful not to knock Jack off, since he was
laying on top of them.
When he was comfortable, he laid on his back and let out a contented sigh, and
his eyes slipped shut. He was intending to fall asleep, but he couldn't when he
felt Jack shift around beside him. He felt the blankets pull down a bit, and he
smirked a little when he realized the other was getting underneath them. He
though Jack had become too cold, and was about to playfully mock him when he
felt a heavy weight on his hips.
His eyes opened, then widened considerably when he saw Jack straddling him, his
sleeping shirt unbuttoned and partially opened. He opened his mouth to speak,
but Jack quieted him when he took his hands and slowly brought them to his
bottom, encouraging Aster to squeeze.
“Jack?” He asked softly, and Jack smiled at him shyly.
“I... want you.” he said softly, letting go of Aster's hands when he was sure
they would stay where he put them, and he placed his hand on Aster's chest. He
ground his hips against Aster's, getting a sharp gasp from the older man, then
he asked, “do you want me?”
“Yes...” Aster whispered, his hands squeezed at Jack's bottom, getting him to
grind against him again, “yes... so much...”
Jack smiled wider and slowly began to rock his hips against Aster's body,
letting out a slow breath of pleasure. Aster squeezed and pulled at Jack's ass,
getting him to grind harder. They rocked against each other slowly, Jack's head
tilting back as he enjoyed himself, and Aster moving his lips with him as well.
Aster's hands moved a bit further in on Jack's ass, and he pressed two fingers
between his cheeks, slipping them up along the cloth, and Jack's body jolted at
the feeling. He moaned softly, rocking his hips back against Aster's fingers
when they brushed along his asshole, and he earned a soft chuckle from the man.
Jack brought a hand up to his own chest, playing with his nipples idly, and he
moaned again when Aster ran his fingers against his asshole once more.
“More?” Jack whispered, his eyes darting down to Aster, who nodded and moved
one of his hands up Jack's body, then slipping his fingers underneath his
pants. Jack bit his lip, closing his eyes, then he jerked forward when he felt
Aster's finger press flush against him. Aster rubbed his fingers around in a
circle, making Jack's body twitch pleasantly, and his eyes slipped shut, though
his mouth hung open.
“Inside...” Jack whined, rocking his hips back against Aster's hand, and the
older man smirked a bit.
“We need lube,” Aster said, and Jack whined more, jerking his hips a bit harder
back, but Aster pulled his hand away and tugged it out of Jack's pants. “Just a
second!” He laughed, reaching over to his nightstand and digging around in it
for the lube.
When he pulled out the bottle, Jack snatched it from him and popped it open,
grabbing Aster's hand and pouring a ton on his hand. Aster laughed a bit more,
but Jack's face was pinched together in concentration, and he smeared the lube
around impatiently before he tugged Aster's hand back to his ass, forcing it
past his waistband.
“Inside.” Jack huffed at him, trying to push Aster's fingers in him himself,
but his own hand was slippery with lube. Aster chuckled, holding Jack still
with one hand on his thigh, then he began to press a finger inside. Jack froze
up, focusing solely on the feeling of being penetrated, and when Aster was up
to the second knuckle, Jack immediately began asking for more.
“How impatient...” Aster smirked, sliding his first finger out so he could add
in the second one, and Jack moaned this time as he slid inside, “We'll have to
spend a lot of time training you to be more obedient, won't we?”
Jack whimpered in response, already beginning to rock his hips back against
Aster's hand, and the older man chuckled and shook his head, but he allowed the
other to do what he wanted. He didn't want to assume Jack was at all ready to
be his sub, and he wanted to give Jack as much freedom as he wanted. He began
to jerk his fingers against Jack, pressing them deeper inside of him, and Jack
moaned in relief, bouncing a bit faster on Aster's hand.
“One more...” Jack panted, slowing down his movements and looking down at
Aster, rolling his hips instead of bouncing, “Stretch me...”
Aster obeyed sliding his fingers out to the tips, then he pressed in a third
finger, and slowly worked them into the teen's body, genuinely surprised when
Jack seemed to take it without even flinching. He worked his fingers up to the
knuckle, then carefully tried to pry them apart, getting a loud groan from the
teen on top of him. He was practically drooling by now, and his little pink
nipples were erect, just peeking out from under his open night shirt. Aster
wanted to lean up and suckle at them, or roll them between his fingers and tug,
but he wanted to focus more on the fingers inside of Jack.
The teen began to bounce on his hand again, though he went slower and was a bit
rougher with his falls, and Aster matched his tempo with his own movements,
pressing his fingers further inside, then stretching them apart whenever Jack
ground his hips against him. Jack's breath was ragged, and his brows knitted
up, but he didn't look or sound like he was close to cumming.
“Not enough...” Jack whispered suddenly, and Aster grinned.
“Want more?” He asked, and Jack nodded immediately. Aster slowly pulled his
fingers out of Jack's body, the teen lifting himself up a bit to make it
easier, and once he was empty, Jack started to tug his pyjama pants down, and
Aster merely pushed his sweats down far enough to yank out his cock. Jack
grabbed the bottle of live and poured it over his cock, jerkily smearing it
over him before hesitating.
When Aster's cock was lubed, Jack angled himself over him and began to press
down onto him. Aster groaned as he was enveloped, and his hands went to Jack's
thighs to steady him as he went down. When Jack's hips met Aster's again, the
both of them let out a breath, and Jack took a moment to adjust to Aster's
size.
“So big...” He breathed, flattering Aster wonderfully, and Jack slowly gyrated
his hips, moaning as Aster shifted inside of him. Aster's hands rubbed up and
down Jack's thighs, making him shiver a little and he rocked his hips a little
slower, breathing heavily.
“Did you have any customers bigger than me?” Aster asked him, and Jack whined
and nodded.
“But they hurt.” Jack mentioned, and he rocked his hips once more, letting out
a pleasured sigh, “You just make me feel good... feel full...”
Regardless, Aster felt good about that, and he bounced his hips up, getting a
surprised gasp from the teen. Jack bit down on his lip, his cheeks a bright
pink, then he whispered, “Fuck me... Please?”
“How polite,” He smiled, and he placed his feet flat on the bed, bending his
knees, and he put his hands on Jack's hips to keep him steady. Jack leaned back
and placed his hands on Aster's knees, then he lifted himself slightly before
he dropped back down, gasping a little. Aster squeezed his hips a bit, then
asked, “Is it okay?”
“Um...” Jack licked his lips, opening his eyes a bit, then bringing himself up
and dropping down again, but he made a face this time and looked at Aster. The
older man chuckled a little, rubbing his hips again.
“Want to switch spots?” He asked him, and Jack nodded shyly. Aster looped his
arms underneath Jack's thighs, then slowly sat up, pushing Jack back a bit. He
lifted him up skillfully, making Jack gasp and wrap his arms around him in
surprise, and he moved them around until Jack was laying on the bed, with Aster
on top of him and between his legs.
“Better?” Aster asked him, and Jack glanced up at him uncertainly, his arms
wrapping a bit tighter around Aster's neck. The older man pressed his hands on
Jack's thighs, spreading him a bit more, then he pulled back and thrusted in
roughly, making the bed creak and Jack grunt. His nails bit in to the skin at
the back of Aster's neck, and his eyes widened a little.
“Again.” He said, and Aster smirked and pulled out once more, then slammed back
in, getting another grunt from the teen.
“Again...!” Jack repeated, and Aster decided to build up a tempo, thrusting
into the teen's body slowly, and those groaned turned into drawn out moans. He
spread his legs apart wider, trying to accommodate Aster's size, and his nails
dragged across Aster's back, then over his shoulders and down his chest,
gripping onto his tank top when it came under his hands. Aster grunted at the
pain, but didn't tell him to stop, and he leaned down to kiss Jack, getting an
eager noise and a kiss in return. Their breaths mingled more than their
tongues, and Jack whimpered with every rough thrust Aster gave him.
Taking their position to his advantage, Aster ran one of his hands up Jack's
body, and the teen arched into his touch eagerly. He could feel how hot he was
becoming, though he wasn't entirely sure if that was only Jack's temperature or
his own, and he pushed aside the cloth of his night shirt. He circled his
fingers around Jack's pec, then cupped him as if he had breasts. He squeezed
the tissue, getting a shudder from the teen, then his fingers closed in around
his nipple, pushing the hardened pink nub until Jack was whining, then he
pinched it and rolled it against his thumb.
Jack was squirming under his touch, sweat running down his body now, and Aster
was loving it. He broke away from the teen's lips to nose at his neck, panting
heavily against him, and he licked a fat stripe up Jack's throat, making him
gasp brokenly and feeling his Adam's apple bob beneath him. Aster could taste
the salty tinge of sweat, but somehow it made him want to do it more, and he
moved to the other side of Jack's neck to lick him again. He wanted to mark
Jack, to claim him as his own for as long as the bruise stayed, but no matter
how enticing, he wasn't sure if Jack would appreciate it. Especially since he
hasn't even confirmed if he wanted to stay with him or not.
Those thoughts aside, Aster soon realized Jack was panting for him to press in
deeper. His nails were digging into his tank, and his legs were shaking from
how stretched they were. He looked practically wrecked, and he was still asking
for more, and that made Aster's cock throb.
He pushed Jack onto his side, and he pressed both of his leg to the bed. Jack
grunted a little at the change, and he let go of Aster's shirt in order to grip
the sheets instead. Aster continued to thrust into him, keeping his knees
pinned down, and his other hand holding his hips still, and Jack let out a
surprised gasp at the first thrust. His eyes were wide but distant, and by the
second thrust, drool was already running down his cheek and onto the blankets.
“Good?” Aster grunted out, and Jack answered him with a desperate whimper and a
nod, and one of his hands shot out to grip at Aster's hips, trying to tug him
back whenever he pulled out. Jack's body was throbbing at this point, and the
bed was only just audible underneath their noises. He could barely recall when
he ever felt this good, and the more Aster thrusted into him, the more euphoric
he felt. He didn't even know he was on the edge until he was cumming, and all
he could moan out was Aster's name, over and over.
Aster wasn't too far behind, and it only took him a few more seconds until he
himself was emptying his load. Jack shuddered at the feeling of hot cum filling
him up, his eyes opening only a bit, and he let out a tired moan.
“Wow...” Jack panted, his legs trembling and his heart still pounding. He heard
Aster chuckle breathily, and he felt his lips come down on his neck, leaving
soft, light kisses up and down his vein, savoring the feeling of his racing
pulse.
“Was it good?” Aster asked him, and he felt Jack tilt his head up a bit more,
wanting him to kiss him more. Aster took the opportunity, humming as he did,
and Jack smiled a little, slowly bringing a hand up to run through Aster's
hair. He hummed in an affirmative tone, turning onto his back so he could look
up at Aster, then he put his hand at the back of his neck and pulled him down
for a few soft kisses, sighing against his lips.
“Was I good?” Jack asked him, his eyes looking up at him with a kind of emotion
that made Aster's stomach flutter. He stared down at the teen for a minute,
looking into those gorgeous baby blues, then he lowered his head and kissed him
again, and he didn't pull away until Jack was breathless and blushing.
“You're perfect,” Aster told him, and Jack smiled a little before he looked
away, shaking his head. Aster caught him by his chin, though, and made him look
at him once again before he said, “You are. And if we wait a few minutes, I'll
gladly have you again...”
“No,” Jack laughed, throwing his head to the side and covering his face with
his hands, “You'll kill me like that...”
“How would I kill you?” Aster smirked, giving him a few kisses on his shoulder,
getting another shy laugh from the teen.
“You'll break my hips with your dick.” He laughed, and Aster scoffed and shook
his head, dropping his forehead down to Jack's shoulder.
“Alright. Then we'll clean you up and go to sleep.” Aster said, and Jack looked
at him and nodded.
“Will you clean me?” Jack asked, and Aster grinned and got up from the bed,
going into the bathroom to find and wet a small towelette.
“Sure,” He replied, coming back with the cloth, and Jack kicked the blankets
further down. His pants were around his thighs, his cock soft but wet, and
Aster's cum was beginning to dribble out of his asshole. Aster knelt beside him
on the bed, and he carefully ran the cloth against Jack's ass, wiping up the
excess cum, then he cleaned off Jack's dick, getting a soft sigh from the
other.
“Aster....” Jack groaned, his brow knitting together in a frown, and the older
man chuckled.
“Over sensitive still?” He asked, and Jack shook his head no.
“You'll make me stiff if you do that...” He complained, pouting at him. Aster
sighed and apologized softly, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
“I didn't mean to,” He defended himself, and he pulled the cloth away from his
cock to clean off the inside of his thighs, “I just love hearing you, Jack...”
Jack continued to pout at him, and Aster frowned and tried to apologize with
kisses. It took a few tries, but after a few pecks, Jack was relaxing again and
smiling.
With Jack cleaned, he and Aster got up to tug the soiled sheets off and replace
them with new ones, then they pulled the blankets back over them. Jack laid
with his back to Aster, but he wiggled and whined until Aster looped an arm
around him and pulled him close, his chest to Jack's back. Aster kissed along
Jack's neck, his hand rubbing Jack's stomach slowly, and he felt Jack's legs
tangle up with his, just to make them feel that much closer.
“I want to be yours,” Jack whispered to him, and Aster kissed the back of his
neck again. His arm tightened around Jack a bit more, and Jack continued to
whisper, “I want to be your pet... I want you to take care of me....”
“There are still a few things we need to talk about, Jack...” Aster sighed,
pressing his nose against the back of his head, then lifting his head up so
Jack's head was tucked under it, “Before you decide...”
“But I want this...” Jack complained, looking over his shoulder to try and look
up at the other, “And I.... trust you. That's all you need, right? My trust?”
“Yeah...” Aster agreed, leaning back a bit so he could comfortably look Jack in
the eye, “But is your trust in me all you need?”
Jack considered his question for a while, then looked away, his brow furrowed,
“I... don't know what you mean...”
“I mean... is there anything else you might need... anything from me... to help
put you at ease?” Aster asked him, and Jack looked up at him again before he
nodded, “What is it?”
“I need you to own me.” Jack said, and Aster couldn't help but get incredibly
turned on by that statement. Jack's eyes went wide when he felt Aster's cock
dig against his thigh, but instead of looking nervous or embarrassed, he looked
up at him with a look of pride, “You want me.”
“Of course I want you,” Aster huffed, readjusting his position so he wasn't
pressing against Jack too much, “I'm just worried that if we go through with
this, you'll realize it's not what you want.”
“Even if it's not, I want to try.” Jack said in a determined voice, and Aster
was compelled to agree, but he still felt nervous about it.
“How about this... on my next day off, we'll do a test run. The entire day,
you'll be my pet. We'll do everything how it's usually done, and we won't end
it until the next morning. Then, you'll tell me whether or not you want this,
okay?” Aster suggested, and Jack considered it for a moment before he nodded.
“Kay.”
 
***** Pet *****
Chapter Summary
     abuse and some violence mentioned inside, more so towards the end.
Jack yawned softly as he woke up from his nap, and he blinked a few times
before he began to stretch. He felt a hand run down his back, and he made a
soft noise as he arched against it, his eyes sliding shut again and his head
resting against Aster's lap. Aster's hand continued running down his back,
petting him gently, and he only paused when Jack rolled around, laying on his
back instead of his side so he could look up at Aster. The older man looked
down at him curiously, raising a brow, and Jack whined softly, arching his back
a little. He couldn't say what he wanted, he wasn't allowed to.
But Aster seemed to understand, and with a slight smile, he began to rub Jack's
stomach, getting a pleased sigh from the teen. Aster's attention went back to
the television, and Jack pouted a little, but he still didn't say anything.
Instead, he rolled back onto his side and watched as well, then quickly got
bored and brought his hand up to his throat, running his fingers along the
collar. There was a small, light bell that chimed when it was moved, and he
played with it for a little. When he got bored with that, too, he climbed off
of the couch and, while staying on his hands and knees, he crawled towards the
little pet-bed in the corner of the room. It was supposed to be a dog's bed,
but Aster had made a good point, saying that Jack wasn't a small enough rabbit
to use a smaller bed. But Jack didn't mind either way. He thought this one was
comfortable anyways.
Aster said he would be sleeping here, tonight. He said rabbits weren't allowed
on the bed. He said they weren't allowed on the couch, either, but he brought
him with him when he sat down to watch TV. Jack had laid on his lap until he
fell asleep, and now he didn't know what time it was, but that didn't matter to
him.
When he got to the pet-bed, he curled up and laid down on it, giving out
another gentle yawn, and he heard Aster chuckle softly.
“Tired?” He called out, and Jack merely curled up tighter on the bed, looking
up at Aster and not answering. He couldn't even nod his head in reply. Aster
watched him for a little, then asked, “Or are you just bored?”
Jack blinked at him, quiet as ever, and when Aster decided on his own answer,
he asked, “Want to play?”
Jack sat up on his bed, his head tilted in interest, and Aster smirked a bit
more before gesturing for him to come closer, “Come on, let's teach you a few
tricks.”
Jack got up on his hands and knees again and eagerly crawled towards Aster, who
moved to the edge of the couch and reached towards the coffee table where a
bowl of baby carrots were. He picked up the bowl, and Jack immediately pawed at
his pant leg, silently asking for some.
Aster clicked his tongue lightly, shaking a finger at Jack, who pouted, and he
held the carrot up and said, “Sit.”
Jack pouted at him still, but he sat back like he was told to and watched Aster
for the real trick. Aster hummed as he thought about it, and he brushed a hand
down Jack's cheek, and though he flinched at first, he leaned into his touch
and appreciated the gesture.
“Lay back.” Aster ordered, and Jack blinked at him in confusion before he
glanced behind him. Shifting around at first, Jack managed to lay down without
hitting his head on the coffee table, but he had to keep his knees bent and
leaning to the side so he didn't kick the couch. His eyes stayed on Aster,
seeing the older man smile, and he leaned forward to give Jack the carrot. Jack
leaned up excitedly, repressing the urge to take the carrot with his hand, and
Aster allowed him to bite a piece off.
Keeping the second half of the carrot, Aster said, “Roll over.”
Jack, still chewing on the carrot, hesitated as he thought about it. He would
have to extend his legs to fully lay on his stomach, unless Aster wanted him to
get on his knees. Seeing Jack's confusion, Aster smiled and said softly, “Roll
over, onto your knees.”
So he did want him on his knees. That made it easier for Jack, and he did as
told slowly, keeping his chest against the ground and his knees propping his
hips up. His ass was facing Aster, and he peeked over his shoulder to look at
him, only to gasp in surprise when he felt Aster's hand slide across his ass,
squeezing softly.
Jack closed his eyes, his hips trembling as he felt Aster's hand grope and
squeeze him, then he heard the man command, “Spread your legs apart,” and Jack
obeyed, shuffling around until his knees were spread, and he felt Aster's hand
dip down between his thighs, and cupping him through his boxers. Jack squirmed
lightly at the touch, biting down on his lip, then gasped aloud when Aster
squeezed.
“A—A—mmm...” Jack gasped, having to bite down on his lip to keep from speaking,
and he got another squeeze as a treat, making his hips twitch down in an
attempt to feel more.
“Good boy,” Aster whispered, and Jack shivered lightly at the comment, his
cheeks turning bright red. He wiggled his hips a little, hoping to urge Aster
to do more, but Aster's hand moved off of his ass, and instead went to the bowl
of carrots, grabbing one and holding it out to Jack.
Eagerly, Jack took the carrot from him with his teeth, having to prop himself
up on his elbows a little to get it, and he chewed at it pleasantly. He was a
bit too focused on the carrot in his mouth, though, and he nearly choked when
he felt Aster's hand return to his bottom, sliding down his perineum, and
cupping his sack again.
His hips shuttered, and he swallowed down the carrot roughly, then he peeked
over his shoulder again and gave out a soft whine.
“Hush, kit,” Aster scolded lightly, and Jack bit down on his lip and closed his
eyes, trying to keep his breathing even as Aster slowly felt him up, squeezing
him and tugging him. He gasped when he felt Aster grip his cock through his
boxers and rub.
“Ready for another trick?” Aster whispered, and Jack felt goosebumps raise
along his arms in response, his entire body trembling from the strain of
keeping his hips up while Aster teased him. He didn't respond to Aster's
question, like a good pet, and he heard the older man chuckle softly before he
let go of him, “Stand. On your feet.”
Jack glanced at him uncertainly, but when Aster nodded at him, reassuring him
that it was okay, he took in a slow breath and slowly pushed himself up,
standing upright and wincing. His knees felt sore, and his muscles had just
gotten used to being bent like that constantly. But when he was standing and
facing Aster, he looked at him in determination, then glanced at the bowl of
carrots, expecting a treat. Aster chuckled when he saw the look, then took one
of the carrots and stood, holding it up to Jack's lips. The teen eagerly took
it from him, smiling a little as he chewed it up, then he looked up at Aster
again, feeling his fingers card through his hair. He kept his eyes on the older
man's face, tilting his head against his touch, and he waited for the next
command.
“Now...” Aster breathed, looking into Jack's eyes as well, and the teen
struggled to keep eye contact. Aster smiled, brushing a thumb against his
cheek, then whispered to him, “Undress for me.”
Jack's brows furrowed for a moment, and he opened his mouth to object, to point
out that he was literally only in boxers, but he didn't allow his voice to come
out, and he was only able to give his owner an uncertain look. Aster laughed
softly, then kissed his cheek and asked, “Don't you want to play?”
Jack hesitated for a minute, considering the weight of the word, and the
emphasis Aster put on it, and when he understood that better things would come
if he were nude, he licked his lips and closed his eyes. He hadn't ever been
completely nude in front of Aster, but... if his owner wanted him naked, then
he would obey. He was a good pet, after all. Or at least, he strove to be.
He hooked his thumbs underneath his waistband, and with a deep breath, he
quickly tugged them down, letting them pool around his ankles, and with an
awkward two-step move, he kicked his boxers away, presenting himself in all of
his half-hard glory to his owner, who hummed as he looked over him critically.
“I need to groom you,” Aster huffed, brushing his fingers through Jack's pubic
hair and frowning, and Jack shifted uncomfortably, embarrassed. He didn't want
to be distasteful for Aster... in fact, he was doing his best to do what Aster
enjoyed, while enjoying it himself. His eyes dropped down to the ground,
ashamed, and he heard a soft chuckle before he felt Aster's lips on his
forehead.
“Pets grow hair, Jack. You don't have to be embarrassed about it. It's my job
to keep you clean, anyways.” He said softly, sliding his hand further down and
wrapping his hand around Jack's cock, getting a light gasp from him, “It would
be considered animal cruelty if I let you grow out too long... And I am intent
on taking good, good care of you...”
Aster stroked him with a tight grip, getting a sharp whimper from his pet, and
Jack struggled to keep his arms pinned to his sides, when he wanted to reach up
and clutch at him desperately, wanting him to touch him more. Aster grinned
wide at his obedience, and he let go of his cock to stroke at his cheek again,
then touching his hair and clicking his tongue.
“If we continue this past today, I'm going to groom you,” Aster decided, and
Jack swallowed thickly, wondering what that would feel like. He was familiar
with Aster's hands on him, but to put his trust in the man to wield a razor,
and graze it along his skin, just a bad move away from drawing blood...
It sounded a little thrilling, actually. If not soothing.
“Time for another trick,” Aster said, picking up one of the carrots as he
considered what to make him do, then his eyes lit up with an idea, and he said,
“On your knees. Beg.”
Jack's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly dropped down to his knees, still
looking up at Aster, and he gave him his best set of puppy eyes he could
muster. He whimpered a few times, jutting out his bottom lip, and Aster
couldn't help but coo and chuckle at him.
“You're just adorable, kitten,” Aster laughed, brushing his fingers through
Jack's hair a few times, then giving in and holding up the carrot for him. Jack
considered it, but he was sick of carrots for now. He wanted something else,
and to indicate this, he turned his head away from Aster's hand, getting a
confused frown from the other.
“What's the matter? Not hungry?” Aster asked him, trying to feed him the carrot
again, only to be refused again. Aster frowned a bit more, then hummed and he
dropped the carrot back into the bowl, “Well, we can't continue training if you
don't want your treat...”
Jack glanced up at him at that, then huffed and leaned forward, pressing his
nose against Aster's thigh, and he nuzzled against him before he glanced up,
giving him another pout. Aster's brows shot up in surprise, but then he grinned
and he ran his hand through Jack's hair again.
“So you want a different treat,” He said softly, and Jack nuzzled against his
thigh again, keeping his eyes on Aster and hoping he would give it to him. He
didn't see why he wouldn't, he had made Jack as hard as a rock and continued to
tease him. He had been a good pet all day, and now he wanted his real treat.
His heart leapt excitedly when Aster began to unzip his pants, and he sat up on
his knees, watching impatiently as Aster took his time to pull himself out of
his pants. He was half-hard, but Jack knew he would change that soon. When
Aster had himself hanging out, Jack immediately leaned forward and mouthed at
the side of his cock, keeping his hands on his legs, but then he felt Aster
grip his hair and say, “Jack, stop.”
Jack whined at the command, but he pulled away obediently and looked up at
Aster, his eyes begging and his cock throbbing. He wanted Aster in his mouth.
He wanted to taste him and swallow down everything he gave him. His mouth hung
open, panting lightly, silently begging for Aster to press himself in and fuck
his face in the least dignified manner, but Aster only smirked at him and shook
his head.
“Settle down, Kit,” Aster lightly scolded him, and Jack gave another sharp
whimper of refusal, wanting Aster to hurry up and claim him already. Aster
stroked his cheek a few times, then said softly, “Impatient little thing...
I'll have to train it out of you.”
Aster glanced around for a moment, humming, then he sat back on the couch and
spread his legs a little, pulling Jack closer to him by the back of his neck.
The teen eagerly shuffled forward, his eyes on Aster and his entire body
trembling, though he wasn't sure if it was from the cold or excitement. He
leaned forward to kiss at Aster's dick again, but was held back by a hand on
the top of his head. He pouted and looked up, seeing Aster smirking down at
him, and the man said in a soft voice, “You'll get what you want in due time,
Kit... I promise. But you're going to do what I tell you to.”
Jack huffed at that, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he scooted a little
closer, lifting his head against Aster's hand, and waited for him to tell him
what to do first. With their eyes locked, and Aster certain that Jack wasn't
about to go on his own again, Aster smiled and lifted his hand from Jack's
head, and said, “Kiss it. Lightly.”
Jack leaned in quickly to do as he was told, but was held back again and Aster
chuckled and said, “Ah, ah, be gentle. Take your time, Jack.”
Glancing up at Aster for a moment, Jack frowned at him, upset that he kept
getting stopped, but he took in a slow breath and looked back down at Aster's
cock, feeling himself salivate at the thought of finally having him in his
mouth, but he leaned forward slowly and instead pressed his puckered lips to
the tip, kissing him lightly for a moment, then moving down his shaft to leave
a few more soft kisses. He looked up at Aster constantly, making sure the man's
eyes were on him, and that he was approving what he was doing, and he paused
when Aster's lips parted.
“Get it wet, now... but don't put it in your mouth.” He breathed, and Jack
considered his words before he understood, and he began to slowly run his
tongue along Aster's cock. He started close to the base, since that was where
his kisses had brought him, and he slowly worked his tongue up, occasionally
sliding back down just to hear Aster's breath hitch. He closed his eyes for a
moment, savoring the taste, and how Aster was getting harder beneath his lips,
and when he reached the tip of his cock once more, he swirled his tongue in
circles against it, prompting a bead of precum to form, which he tasted
excitedly.
When he looked up at Aster again, he could see his eyes glazed over and foggy,
with his mouth slightly open and his cheeks a bright red, despite his dark
skin, and Jack felt his heart skip excitedly. He knew he was good in Aster's
book from all the times the older man visited him in his little two-stall
bathroom, but he never got to see him react like this. It really gave him a
sense of accomplishment.
But his work was far from done, and Jack went right back to it, going back down
to the base to lick the other side until his saliva was dripping down it, and
his tongue running laps around the tip again. When he pulled away, a string of
saliva stayed with him until it snapped from the distance, and Aster let out a
shaky breath. Jack was just about to go down one more time when Aster
whispered, “Jack...”
The teen looked up at Aster, his eyes wide and curious, and Aster swallowed
thickly as he looked down at him. Jack tilted his head when no order came, and
he briefly glanced down at Aster's cock, silently asking if he should continue.
Aster licked his lips, then whispered, “Go ahead, take it in... but don't go
past my fingers.” and to set the line, he wrapping his forefinger and thumb
around his own cock, about halfway down. Jack's eyes widened, and he was about
to rush forward, but he recalled Aster's command at the beginning to go slow,
so he tried to swallow down his excitement and he leaned forward slowly, trying
to keep his breath even as he parted his lips. Bringing Aster's cock into his
mouth, he let out a light, relieved noise, as if he had been starved and this
was all he would be getting. He stayed at the tip for a while, suckling at him
and letting his tongue press flat against it, then he slid further down, his
tongue flattening out against the floor of his mouth. Aster's cock wasn't at
it's hardest, but it was an impressive thickness either way, and even though
Jack reached his fingers a bit quicker than he would have liked, he still
enjoyed the feeling of his mouth being occupied, and the lack of space his
tongue suffered from.
He sucked on what he had between his lips, his eyes half-open and glazed with
enjoyment, and he pulled back slowly, wiggling his tongue in a narrow back-and-
forth motion as he went. When he popped off, he took in a sharp breath, then
looked up at Aster to make sure he was enjoying it before he sank back down,
reaching his fingers quickly and sucking once more. Aster was breathing hard,
his breath rattling in his chest and his eyes glued on Jack. A bead of sweat
ran down the side of his face, and he licked his lips slowly, from one side to
the other.
“Think you could take all of it?” Aster asked Jack, and Jack bumped his lips
meaningfully against his fingers, looking up at Aster with wide eyes. Aster
chuckled softly, then murmured, “Of course you can. Go on then,” and he removed
his fingers from his cock, letting Jack do what he wanted, “Show me how good
you are.”
Jack swallowed thickly, his eyes sparkling, and he eagerly moved his head down,
bringing Aster all the way into the back of his throat, until he felt the head
press against it. He held himself there, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands
in tight fists, and he grunted lightly. He did his best to suck him and wiggle
his tongue, but when he was starting to lose his breath, he had no choice but
to pull back with a gasp, popping off of Aster's cock so he could catch his
breath, but he didn't dare leave Aster without pleasure. While he caught his
breath, he licked and kissed at the head of his cock, suckling at it a few
times and tasting the precum on his tongue.
When he had caught his breath again, he brought Aster back into his mouth,
moaning as he went down. His eyes flickered up to Aster, who was panting hard
and staring down at him. He brought a hand up to stroke Jack's cheek, then he
tangled his fingers in his hair and Jack's eyes slid shut. He bobbed his head
slowly, hollowing out his cheeks when he dragged back, and Aster let out a
beautiful whimper that made Jack's skin tingle.
Jack pulled away from Aster's cock, then, and instead slid his lips down his
shaft. When he reached the bottom, he moved down and licked at Aster's sack,
something he hadn't been able to play with when they were in the gas station
stalls, and it seemed they were just as sensitive as the rest of him. Aster
gasped sharply on the first lick, and Jack smirked as he continued to lick him.
He brought what he could into his mouth and sucked, glancing up at Aster every
time he moaned, and he could feel the precum leaking from Aster dripping down
his cheek. His hips jerked up, and Jack quickly pulled away from his sack to
suck at the head of his cock once more. He didn't want Aster to spill without
being able to swallow it, and he started bobbing his head faster, going down
only halfway before pulling back up again.
“Shit....” Aster huffed, his hips jerking up again, and Jack grunted at the
feeling, his eyes shutting so he could focus on sucking him off. Aster thrusted
his hips up purposely this time, and Jack held his head still for him, letting
the man fuck his face as he pleased. Aster only lasted for a few seconds
longer, especially with him in control like this, and he gripped Jack's air
tightly as he groaned his name, emptying himself into the teen's mouth.
Jack grunted when the first spurt came, but he pushed his head a bit further
down, sucking tight to get more from him, and soon his mouth was full, his
throat working to swallow down every last drop. He stayed on Aster's cock,
sucking him until the man hissed in oversensitivity, and he slowly pulled off
then, a string of thick saliva still connecting them, until Jack licked his
lips and broke it.
As Aster caught his breath, Jack looked up at him and keened. He was rock hard
himself, dripping from the head, and he wanted his owner's attention. He wanted
his owner's hand on him, and to ask without words, he shuffled around and pawed
at his own cock, as if he didn't know how to relieve himself. Aster's eyes
darted down to him, watching as Jack pouted at him, then he chuckled and
whispered, “My poor pet... look at the state I put you in.”
Jack gave him a sharp whine to agree with him, and Aster patted his lap and
said, “Come here. Sit with your back against me. Let me pet you.”
Jack huffed at the command, hoping Aster was going to touch him and not just
tease him. He pulled himself onto Aster's lap, turning around on him and
leaning back against his chest, and Aster grinned as he did so, his hand
immediately going to Jack's stomach. His other hand went to Jack's knees,
shifting his legs so they hug over Aster's, and if he were to spread his legs,
Jack would be forced to do the same.
Aster leaned in and softly kissed Jack's neck, not staying long enough to
nibble or suck on his skin. The hand on his stomach slowly rubbed in circles,
making Jack squirm a little with impatience. He wanted to whine Aster's name,
or tell him to hurry up already, but whenever he opened his mouth, he
remembered his place, and only allowed himself to let out a pitiful whine.
Aster grinned at him, and only slowed his movements.
“What are you whining about, huh?” He whispered, beginning to broaden the
circle his hand followed so his fingers brushed against Jack's nipples, getting
a hard shudder from the teen, “You got your treat, didn't you? You're full now,
aren't you?”
Jack whined again, lifting his hips in an attempt to get Aster to touch him,
but his hand only went further up Jack's body, until his fingers lingered at
the collar at his neck. Jack froze up, his heart pounding as Aster stroked the
collar. He wasn't sure if he was about to be punished or not, but having
Aster's fingers there, right where he could easily rip off the collar, made him
nervous.
Aster rubbed the collar for a bit longer, then moved his hand back down Jack's
body, feeling the boy relax under his touch with a sigh.
“Don't want me to take your collar off, huh?” Aster asked softly, and Jack
merely rested against Aster's body. He couldn't respond. It wasn't his place.
Aster stroked Jack's stomach again, looking over him quietly, then he smirked
and said softly, “You're such a loyal pet, aren't you?”
Jack lifted his hips with another whine, ignoring Aster's praise in hopes he'll
touch him, and Aster smirked and said, “You deserve it, don't you? Alright,
settle down.” and Jack huffed at him, but he dropped his hips back down. Aster
grinned and kissed his neck again, and he slowly began to run his hand down
Jack's stomach, towards his dripping cock. Jack sucked in a slow breath as the
hand went down him, and he slid his eyes shut and tilted his head, then
shuddered when he felt Aster's fingers brush against his pubic hair.
“How fast should I make you cum?” Aster whispered to him, gripping him right at
the base, “Two minutes? Five minutes?”
Jack whined in response, turning his head so his forehead pressed against
Aster's neck, and he kept his eyes squeezed shut. Aster grinned, and brushed
his free hand down Jack's cheek, then whispered, “I'm going to aim for eight
minutes... just to see how long you can hold out.” He kissed Jack's nose, then
dug through his pockets to pull out his phone.
“Jack, open your eyes.” Aster instructed, and Jack listened immediately,
looking up at Aster, then over to his hand where he held up his phone. On the
screen was a stopwatch, already set at eight minutes.
“Hold this,” Aster commanded, “And keep your eyes on the time. If you cum
before that timer ends, you have to sleep out here tonight. If you cum at or
after eight minutes, I'll let you sleep in the bed with me.”
Jack bit down on his lip, his eyes filling with determination, and he held the
phone with both hands. His eyes glued to the screen, and Aster kissed his cheek
before saying, “You can start the timer when I start moving my hands.”
Aster waited a few seconds, just to make sure Jack was being obedient, and when
he got a pout from his pet, he chuckled and gave in. He squeezed Jack a little,
then slowly began to pump him, only to stop and say, “Wait,” right when Jack
was about to hit the button, “Do me a favor and fetch us some lube. You'll get
hurt if we continue like this.”
Jack huffed at the command, then set the phone down on the couch before he
scooted off of Aster's lap, and he crawled towards the coffee table and opened
up the drawers, locating and grabbing the lube. He popped the small tube
between his teeth, then crawled back to Aster and lifted his chin, as if proud
that he had found it so quickly, and Aster grinned and pet him briefly before
he took the lube from him.
“Good boy,” He whispered, patting his lap so Jack would come back and sit on
him, which he did, “Are you ready for your treat?”
Jack shifted his hips eagerly to indicate yes, and he hooked his legs over
Aster's thighs like they were before. Aster smirked, and spread their legs
further apart, then brought his hand back to Jack's cock, squeezing it gently.
In his other hand, he held the tube, and he popped it open and poured it over
Jack's cock, being liberal with it.
The lube was cold, and it made Jack's hips jerk up in shock. He began panting
already, and he fumbled for the phone to start the timer. Aster rose a brow,
then grinned and asked, “You really like the cold, don't you?”
Jack bit down on his lip, unable to respond or indicate that yes, he loved it,
and he was getting horribly turned on by being stripped nude and covered with
cold lubricant. Aster could only tell by the way his hips rolled against his
grip, and the way Jack's bottom lip was turning bright red from how much he was
biting on it. He slowly stroked his hand up, bunching up the lubricant until it
began dripping down the back of his hands and his fingers, then he pulled back
down, tugging Jack's foreskin with him and exposing the head, and Jack trembled
and whimpered loudly. He was going to bruise his lip if he kept biting himself
like this, but he didn't really care at the moment. All he could focus on was
Aster's hand on him, stroking him slowly, so, so slowly, but sending almost
painful shocks of pleasure through him.
Aster moved his other hand to Jack's sack, squeezing him and rolling his balls
against his fingers, all the while he still pumped Jack, pushing his foreskin
back and forth, then settling for keeping his head exposed so he could play
with it, pushing his fingers against the spongy tissue and running them in
circles, spreading the precum everywhere. Jack was twitching against him
adorably, and he only yelped when Aster's fingers ran over his hole. Precum was
dripping from him, mixing with the lubricant that was slowly warming up on
Jack's heated skin, and Aster knew the boy was close, but with a glance at the
stopwatch, he saw they still had four minutes left.
Aster nibbled at Jack's neck, meeting both of his hands together at the base of
Jack's cock, one of them gripping him tightly, and the other pumping him
faster. Jack's hips jolted upwards, and he gasped and groaned, his eyes
squeezing shut and his hand trembling as he held the phone. His cheeks were a
bright pink, and Aster kissed them lightly, loving the color on him.
Jack's chest was heaving with how hard he was panting, and his hips twitched
into Aster's grip jerkily, and with the way his face contorted, Aster could
only guess that he was on the verge of cumming. He tightened his grip at the
base, making sure he didn't cum too early, and he began twisting his hand on
the upstroke, getting a shaky gasp from the teen. His eyelids fluttered, but he
kept them open, and he glanced at the phone before whimpering. Two minutes
left, and Jack wasn't sure if he could last. He knew Aster was staving him off,
but he wasn't sure if he would until the timer stopped.
He jerked his hips faster into Aster's grip, letting his head fall back in
pleasure. His stomach was clenching in strain, both from keeping himself from
cumming and from thrusting upwards, and he groaned loudly, clawing at Aster's
arm as a silent plea for more. Aster kissed his neck again, and Jack felt him
smirk against his skin, and the fingers around the base of Jack's cock slowly
unwrapped. Jack whimpered, feeling a rush coming, but he held it back as best
as he could. He peeked open an eye to look at the timer and huffed—less than a
minute left.
But then he felt Aster's hand creep down to his sack, the other one still
pumping him with a strong grip, his thumb pausing at the head to rub in two
small circles. His fingers curled around Jack's sack, squeezing one side, then
the other, then he rolled his palm against them, pressing the heel of his hand
against him until Jack was keening and clawing at his arms. One of his hands
shot up and gripped at Aster's hair, tugging hard, and his mouth hung open, his
shouts and moans filling the room more than the air itself. His back arched
beautifully, his teeth clenching shut and grinding as he fought off his orgasm,
but once he heard the timer beep, he let go, unable to keep himself from
shouting as he shot his load. His entire body jolted from the force, his heart
pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears, and his fingers were curling,
digging his nails into Aster's skull.
Aster continued pumping him, though he went slower than when he started, and he
left a few more kisses on Jack's neck until the teen collapsed against his
chest, his entire body shaking, going as limp as a ragdoll. His head lulled,
his eyes unable to stay open, and he whined softly, relieved that he wasn't
allowed to speak. His throat was sore from his shouts, and he doubted he would
have much to say at the moment, anyways.
He swallowed thickly, then felt Aster's hand come up to his chin, turning his
face so they could kiss. Jack allowed him, and he tried to sit up so he could
be a little more active in the kiss, but his arms were like jelly and he
couldn't trust them with half his weight. Aster chuckled against his lips, then
pulled away to look him over, before his eyes caught something that made him
grin.
“Look,” He whispered, nodding forward, and Jack blinked tiredly before he
dropped his head, looking to where he was gesturing. When his eyes caught the
coffee table, he felt himself flush in embarrassment. The glass had streaks of
cum on it, just on the edge. Jack looked away, his cheeks bright red, and Aster
laughed again before he kissed his cheek.
“Come on, let's get you cleaned up before bed time, huh?” Aster whispered, and
Jack yawned lightly, lifting his legs from Aster's and pressing his knees
together. Aster slid on arm underneath them, then put the other around Jack's
back, and when he stood, Jack went with him, cradled in his arms and hanging
onto him loosely. Aster crossed the short distance to the bathroom, then sat
Jack down in the tub and turned on the water, setting it on the exact heat Jack
liked. The teen yawned a second time as the tub began to fill, and he watched
the water slowly rise around him. Aster kissed his forehead, then got up and
left him, returning a few minutes later with a towel and a pair of sweats. He
knelt down beside the tub, and Jack looked up from the water, now up to his
hips. Aster smiled at him and asked, “Enjoy yourself?”
Jack didn't reply, but he stared at Aster for a few more moments before he
scooted forward. Aster watched him curiously, then smirked when Jack reached
out and tugged at Aster's arm.
“Want me to join you?” He asked, and Jack tugged again before Aster clicked his
tongue, “Alright, alright.” and he got up from the floor, tugging off his
clothes lazily. When he was naked, Jack blushed and looked away, then closed
his eyes as Aster got in behind him. When he felt the older man's legs on
either side of him, he sighed and scooted back, resting against Aster's chest
tiredly.
He closed his eyes again, relaxing as Aster's hands ran water over his
exhausted self, and he sighed pleasantly. The water continued to fill, up to
their stomachs now, and Aster leaned forward for a moment to turn the taps off.
Small licks of steam came up from the water's surface, ripples emerging as
Aster leaned back in the tub.
Jack was much too comfortable to stay awake much longer, and he slowly slipped
into sleep, leaning on Aster and relying on him so he didn't fall into the
water. He was sleeping before he could stop himself, and Aster only realized
this when he tried to get him to sit up so he could wash his hair. Aster waited
a few seconds, trying to decide whether he should wake him or not, then he
sighed and kissed Jack's head, smiling to himself.
He made sure Jack was completely clean before he carried him out, and he
briefly dried him off. Getting his sweatpants on were relatively easy, and
afterward, he brought him to bed. He pulled the blankets down before he laid
Jack on the bed, then pulled them back up to his shoulders before he went to
the other side, sliding in himself. He wrapped his arms around Jack's stomach,
being the big spoon, then kissed the top of his head again before he, too,
settled down to sleep.
He slept soundly, dreaming of nothing. Jack, on the other hand, dreamt of
himself and Aster.
They stood alone on the apartment's balcony, Jack leaning against the railing
and looking down at the people walking by. Aster stood behind him, his arms
trapping him against the rails, and his lips painting sweet words against his
neck, making Jack's body melt. He sighed pleasantly, letting his head fall to
the side so Aster could kiss him more, then he felt his hips press against him,
and he gasped lightly.
“No,” He whispered, pushing against him with a hand, “Not out here...”
Aster sighed against his skin, his own hands going to Jack's hips, and Jack
thought he was going to stop, but then he was pushed forward against the
railing, causing him to grunt in pain. He gripped the railing tightly, feeling
it rattle from his weight, then he felt Aster press against him again, groaning
strangely.
“Stop it!” Jack gasped, trying to stand up straight, but he felt a hand on his
back push him back down, and another one grabbing the waistband of his pants
and yanking them down. He yelped at the force, his heart beginning to pound,
and he reached back to shove him away, yelling, “Aster! Stop!”
When Aster didn't listen, and instead shoved against him harder, he yelped and
struggled against him, then shoved him back long enough to turn around, though
who he saw made his heart stop. Standing in front of him was his ex, just as
tall and as imposing as he had always been, and he grabbed Jack's arms and
shoved him back against the railing once again. He pinned him there, his eyes
alight with that look Jack knew only meant trouble, and Jack felt every last
bit of fight drain out of him, replacing instead with fear.
“Pitch...” Jack whimpered, looking up through his lashes at the man, feeling
small and vulnerable like this, and Pitch grabbed him by his chin and jerked
his head up.
“Talk,” He ordered, his voice dark and threatening, and Jack jerked his chin
out of his grip, but he only grabbed him again and held his face still. Jack
stayed silent, his heart pounding louder, and Pitch leaned in a bit closer,
getting more aggravated at Jack's silence.
“Talk!” He shouted, letting go of Jack's chin roughly, “Say something!”
He drew back his arm, and Jack's eyes widened in fear. He flinched back before
Pitch even brought his arm down, but Pitch still swung at him, striking him
hard on the cheek. Jack's head was thrown to the side, his cheek stinging
painfully, and his head throbbed from the force of the hit. He held his breath,
slowly opening his eyes, then he turned his head to look back at Pitch, but
instead saw Aster, his own green eyes filled with the same hateful look, and
his hand held up, prepared to strike.
“A-Aster, no--!” Jack yelped, and Aster's eyes flared.
“Shut up!” He yelled, and he struck Jack with the back of his hand, throwing
Jack's head the other way, and Jack's neck ached from the sudden turn. He felt
a hand grab him by the neck, squeezing tight until Jack gasped, and Aster
growled into his ear, “You are a pet. You are below me.”
Jack stared at him in fear, his eyes wide and his head pounding, and his bottom
lip trembled. He could feel his eyes sting with tears, and he tried to blink
them away, but that only urged them to fall. He looked away from Aster, then,
the hand still at his neck, and he closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, he did so with a gasp, but did nothing more. He saw
darkness, and beyond that was the door to the bathroom. Aster's arm around his
waist was heavy and suffocating, and the collar at his neck only reminded him
of the dream. He laid there quietly, staring at the bathroom door, and he
tensed when Aster snored.
He felt trapped. He felt scared. He felt like he was being squished.
He needed air, Jack decided, and he quietly began to push the blankets down. He
started pushing Aster's arm off of him, then gasped when Aster grunted. His
eyes didn't open, but he cleared his throat, then murmured softly, “What's the
matter?”
Jack stared at him quietly, not sure if he should respond or not, and he stayed
frozen to the spot. He could see Aster's eyebrows furrow, then he sighed
through his nose and murmured, “You can talk, Jack. What's wrong?”
Jack licked his lips briefly, feeling as if he didn't know how to speak, but
then he opened his mouth and whispered, “Just... thirsty...” and he felt Aster
relax.
“Want me to get it?” Aster asked next, and Jack shook his head and continued
getting up from the bed.
“'S fine.” He whispered, and Aster hummed softly to show he heard him, then
rolled onto his back, falling back asleep. Jack watched him from the side of
the bed for a minute, then quickly left for the kitchen, going straight to the
sink and turning it on. He didn't have a cup, and he didn't need one. He just
needed to be alone for a minute, and after a few more seconds, he shut the
water off. He stayed at the sink, his eyes open and staring at the wall, and he
willed himself to calm down.
He was safe, he reminded himself. He was fine with Aster. He knew Aster
wouldn't hurt him.
'For now,' he could hear his ex whisper to him, distantly in his own mind, and
he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the voice away. But a part of him knew it
was true. No matter what, Aster would only end up hurting him. And no matter
what, Jack would run away again, either to Pitch's arms, or to another gas
station stall, where he could be used and dirtied like the disgusting creature
Pitch made him become. He got money that way, anyways. He didn't have a lot of
customers, but it was enough to satisfy.
He heard Aster snoring from the bedroom, and his body ached for the warmth of
the bed, of his arms wrapped around him, but he was scared. He felt it was
inevitable that Aster would harm him on purpose, and thought it to only be a
matter of time.
Why wait around for it, he thought, opening his eyes again and staring hard at
the wall, why not leave while everything was still good, and keep the good
memories.
Goosebumps rose across his skin, adjusting to the cold air in the living room,
and his arms shook at the thought of leaving so suddenly, but he believed it
was the only way he could be happy.
He really wanted to stay with Aster. He loved being his pet, his bunny. He
loved being taken care of and fucked so perfectly, but it wouldn't last. And he
didn't want to see it end.
With a sense of determination, Jack pushed himself away from the counter and
went to the jacket closet in the living room, opening it to find some of the
clothes Aster bought him that wouldn't fit in his cabinets. He took them all
from the hangers, making sure he did so quietly so he didn't wake Aster, and he
took one of Aster's backpacks, shoving all of his clothes inside. He looked
through the closet once more, then decided to take Aster's jacket, too, to keep
him warm. The man had said it was fine if he left, anyways, and Jack figured
Aster made enough to buy himself another one.
He tugged the jacket over his naked chest, briefly running his fingers over the
faux fur that lined the hoodie and the sleeves, then he zipped it up and took
out the shoes Aster bought him, tugging them on as well.
When he was dressed, he took the backpack into the kitchen, opening the
cabinets and taking what he saw first. They were small things: crackers, beans,
even a few small, single-serve boxes of cereal. Now that he was fully stocked,
he headed for the front door, his hand going straight to the doorknob.
He paused for a moment, the backpack on and his head pulsing, but he hesitated.
He wanted to leave, but he wanted to stay, and he wanted to crawl up next to
Aster and demand him to love him, demand him to hold him close and press inside
and claim him as his precious bunny. His heart ached at the choices he faced,
and with shaking hands, he decided.
He quietly turned the doorknob, then let the door swing open. He took one last
look inside the apartment, then left, leaving no note or clue as to where he
would go.
He was free now, and he would be happy.
 
***** Chapter 4 *****
Jack was gone. Aster realized this soon after he had woken up. He thought Jack
was just hiding from him, but when he called out to the other and got no
response, he felt a heaviness settle in his stomach, and he knew he was alone.
He sat at the edge of his bed quietly for a time, listening to the emptiness of
his apartment, thinking it strange to not hear his little pet's bell, or even
the gentle padding of his feet, and how lightly he stepped. Jack's smell
lingered on the sheets, cool and fresh, and it made Aster's chest ache.
He stood up from his bed, he didn't know how long it took him to do it, and he
slowly shuffled towards the cabinet in the bedroom, pulling open the top drawer
and seeing the usual mix of his and Jack's clothes. He briefly wondered if Jack
would come back for them, but then decided he wouldn't. He slowly closed the
cabinet door, then shuffled towards the laundry basket, where the last outfit
Jack wore—his boxers and a pair of sweatpants—sat, and Aster reached in to pick
up the pants, able to smell him more.
He dropped them back into the laundry basket, his heart pounding and the space
behind his eyes burning. He turned away from the basket, then went into the
living room, and thought it felt much bigger than before. He didn't like it.
He went to the closet, opening it and finding it raided. The clothes were
halfway on the hangers, the shoes misplaced, and Jack's things were gone. Aster
stared at it, quiet, and slowly realized a few of his own things were gone as
well.
Somehow, he didn't feel mad about that. Instead, he sighed to himself, then got
down on his knees and began to organize the closet.
Jack knew he could leave, Aster reminded himself. He had told him he could go
whenever, and take everything with him... but Aster didn't think he would
actually do it. Not when they had so much fun with Jack as his pet. And Aster
knew the other had fun with it, he knew he enjoyed it... or he thought he did.
He leaned back on his legs for a moment, thinking about it. He couldn't recall
a moment where Jack looked uncomfortable, or tried to get away... But perhaps
he wasn't as perceptive as he had been when he was younger.
With the closet now clean, Aster closed the door softly. He stood there, his
hand on the door, and his eyes on the ground, and he was swallowed by his
thoughts once more. He knew Jack was gone... and he already missed him. His
heart ached as if he had loved the teen, but they had known each other
personally for only a week.
He told himself it would go away. He told himself he would buy another winter
coat and backpack and he would feel better. He told himself he wouldn't wait
for Jack to come home, or look for him wherever he went from then on, or
aimlessly watch news channels in hopes he'll randomly spot the white haired
teen. He told himself all of these things, but even weeks later, he found
himself coming back to the gas station for what must have been the third time
in five days. It was around the time Jack would usually be in, but every time
he opened the bathroom door, he found both stall doors open.
His head hurt from how much he thought about where Jack would be. His heart
ached so much he thought he might die, but he didn't understand why. He didn't
know the teen. He barely even held a legitimate conversation with him. He only
had a single day with him where they played out his kink, and somehow, that was
enough to trap him.
He turned away, then, and silently walked back to his car, unaware of the pair
of eyes that followed him from inside the store. They watched Aster get into
his car, start it up, then drive away, and the owner quietly brought the donut
up to his lips and bit into it. He heard a soft sigh from behind him, but
didn't look away until the car was well out of sight.
“Every time he comes by, you run in here,” The man behind the counter
mentioned, and Jack turned to look at him, “Do you owe him money or something?”
Jack stared at him quietly, taking another bite into the donut, then he sighed
and walked over to the counter and placed a few bills on it.
“Another box?” The man guessed, but Jack still didn't reply. He didn't even nod
his head, he just continued to eat his donut and stare at the cashier. The man
huffed softly, then turned around and grabbed a box of condoms, tossing them at
Jack.
“So do you just not like me or are you mute?” He asked, leaning heavily on the
counter and looking annoyed. Jack picked up the box of condoms, tucking them
into his jacket pocket, then he pushed his money towards the other, expecting
his change. The cashier stared at him for a bit longer, then gave up and took
the money, then handed him back his coins.
“How long are you going to be here tonight?” The cashier asked him, his
expression softening, and Jack considered it before he popped the rest of the
donut into his mouth, turning away. The guy sighed again, then shook his head
and said, “Well, just... come inside when you're hungry. I'll cover it, okay?”
Jack blinked at him, then took the box of condoms from his pocket and opened it
up. He pulled one out and placed it on the counter, looking up at the cashier
meaningfully. The man's eyes widened a little, darting up to Jack in surprise,
and when he didn't take the condom, Jack pushed it towards him, then left,
leaving the man no choice but to take it. He headed out of the quick-e-mart,
and went straight to the bathroom. He locked himself in his stall, the donut
filling him up nicely, and he waited patiently for his next customer. As he sat
there, he pulled Aster's jacket he had stolen up to his nose, covering the
bottom half of his face and breathing in deeply. It still smelled like him,
even after weeks of being on him, and it gave Jack a small bit of that comfort
he felt whenever he was in the man's arms. He closed his eyes for a minute,
enjoying the smell, but then he heard the bathroom door open.
He bit down on his lip, listening closely to see whether or not it was a man,
and when he heard a deep sigh, he knew he was in business. He waited for the
man to finish relieving himself, and when he heard him zipping up his pants, he
knocked on his bathroom stall door, attracting his attention. There was silence
for a moment, then a soft chuckle.
Jack's sly grin fell. He knew that laugh. It still made his stomach twist
unpleasantly. But now he was trapped, and there was nothing he could do aside
from sit there and wait.
“How did I know you would be back here?” The man's voice came, and he stepped
up to the bathroom stall, “Come on, let's not make this any harder than it is.”
Jack sat still for a moment, his heart pounding, but he could see the man's
shoes underneath the doorway. He knew he didn't have anywhere to go, and if he
tried to slide out from underneath, the man would definitely see. With a sigh,
Jack got up from the toilet, and pulled out the backpack he took from Aster
from where he hid it behind the toilet. He slung it over his shoulders and
unlocked the stall door. He let it swing open, staring down at the ground, and
the man sighed at him.
“Alright, Jack, c'mon.” He said, and Jack finally peeked up at him. He was
wearing his badge, of course, and he had a pair of handcuffs in his hands, and
he was as big and intimidating as he always was. He held up the handcuffs
meaningfully, and Jack glared at him and stepped away from him, walking towards
the door without putting them on. The man rolled his eyes, but followed after
him, and they quietly got into his cop car. Jack peeked up just in time to see
the cashier looking out at them, his eyes wide and apologetic, so Jack offered
him a meek smile, but that was all he gave him. He wouldn't be in for long,
anyways. If anything, he would just be held for a few nights, then let go.
The ride to the station was tense and quiet, but the cop beside him tried to
lighten the mood by playing music, but Jack felt as if it was more intimidating
that way. Besides, he didn't want to talk. Or rather, he couldn't.
He brought a hand up and brushed his fingers against the collar still on his
neck, feeling his heart pound at the thought of what Aster would say if he knew
where Jack was going now. He wondered if he would come get him, if he would
still want him, if he knew where he was. He liked to think he would.
When they got to the station, they walked in, Jack in front and the cop behind
him, and when he got in, the rest of the cops inside glanced over, then sighed
and looked back to their work. They all knew Jack well. He had been in and out
of this place plenty of times before, all for various things. He got a few kind
hellos and 'back again's from a few of the officers, but then they were stopped
by one particular man, just as buff and intimidating as the one who picked him
up.
“Jack,” He said gruffly, crossing his heavily tattooed arms over his chest, “I
was hoping I wouldn't see you here anymore.”
Jack only stared at him, readjusting the backpack on his shoulders, and when
the other realized he wouldn't be talking any time soon, he shook his head and
asked, “Where was he this time?”
“Bathroom at a gas station,” the cop who picked him up said, frowning a little,
“looked like he was set up there for a while, but I don't know if the owner
knew.”
“Go back and ask whoever's working there about him, see what you kind find
out.” He ordered, and the cop nodded.
“Yes, North.” He obeyed, then turned and left the station to do his job. North
took over from there, and he put a hand on Jack's shoulder, despite the fact
that he flinched away from him.
“Come on, you know the drill.” He huffed, and Jack glared at him pointlessly
before he shrugged off the backpack, dropping it off at the front desk. He dug
through his pockets, then, tossing out the money he had, and the box of condoms
he had purchased. When his pockets were empty, he turned back to North, who put
a hand on his back and led him towards the interrogation room, though he knew
it would be useless.
They entered, anyways, and Jack sat down where he was supposed to, and North
sat where he was meant to, and they stared at each other silently for a long
while. North didn't even ask questions, since he knew he wasn't going to get an
answer.
But then his eyes flickered down to something, and his brow furrowed before he
asked, “What's that at your neck?”
Jack's hand immediately went up, covering the collar at his neck, and he glared
once more at North, who sighed and shook his head.
“The things you do, Jack... if you just got a respectable job--!” He began his
lecture, but then the door opened, startling the both of them.
“Patronizing my patient again, are we?” Came the intruder's voice, and Jack's
entire body tensed up, his eyes dropping down to his lap. North sat up a little
straighter, and his voice turned sour.
“Ah... so they called you, did they?” He spoke up, and Jack rubbed his fingers
against the collar anxiously, “Well... Pitch... I wouldn't have him here if he
did not break the law.”
Pitch scoffed, lifting his nose into the air, and said coldly, “If you allowed
me to take full custody of him, we wouldn't have this issue.”
“I wouldn't leave him in the same room as you, much less give you custody.”
North growled, and Pitch rolled his eyes dramatically before he crossed the
room, standing behind Jack and placing his hands on Jack's shoulders. When he
felt Jack tense up beneath him, he squeezed tighter, making him wince and twist
away, but he wouldn't let him go.
“As long as you should care, my patient is suffering from sex addiction,
selective mutism, and severe depression. It is my job to make sure he doesn't
harm himself or others, but I can't do it properly if he is not constantly in
my care.” Pitch said stiffly, and North glared at him more.
“He is not in your care, because we are still trying to determine whether or
not those strange, 'self-induced' bruises that appeared all over him were given
by you.” North retorted, and Pitch tightened his grip on Jack's shoulders for a
moment, making him wince once more.
“All of those bruises were, as I had said before, self-inflicted. You said
yourself that each and every one of them were within reach of his own hands,
and he could have done them himself.” Pitch growled, putting one of his hands
on top of Jack's head, “Now, if you would so kindly leave so that I may
question my patient...”
North's glare wavered in doubt, and he gave Jack one last look before he sighed
and pushed himself to his feet.
“Know this, Pitch... Your place here.... your 'job' to help Jack, is very much
replaceable. You have failed us for much too long, and we are growing tired of
waiting. We are expecting results, and you are giving us nothing but more
issues.”
“I wonder why,” Pitch huffed, petting Jack's hair slowly, “I told you all, I
would have results for you much quicker if you allowed me to take him home, for
closer study.”
“Closer study is exactly why we won't allow it,” North growled, then he turned
to leave, “If we have no results within a month, consider yourself fired.”
He left, then, and he slammed the door shut behind him. Pitch ground his teeth
together, his hands still on Jack, then he took his hair in his fist and tugged
it roughly, getting a sharp squeal from the teen.
“You imbecile!” He snarled, letting go of Jack's hair and marching over to the
other side of the table, where he sat down in the chair, “Every time they let
you run off, you somehow find yourself on someone else's cock! You're risking
my job, risking my reputation--! You selfish little creature!”
Jack took the insults quietly, his eyes stuck to the table and his cheeks
bright red. He hated being scolded, much less by Pitch, and he couldn't defend
himself, either. Not just because of the collar, or his unspoken loyalty to
Aster as his owner, but solely because Pitch terrified him, and he had learned
that, above all else, speaking in front of him was something that only brought
him punishment.
Jack liked to think that if he hadn't met Pitch, his initial depression and
selective mutism would have been resolved within a year, maybe less.
Pitch leaned back in the chair and pulled out a cigarette, placing it between
his teeth and lighting it. The smell filled the room like a disease, and Jack
knew Aster's clothes would eat it up. He held onto the front of the jacket
desperately, as if he could block it out, but he knew it was futile.
“Where did you run off to this time, huh?” Pitch questioned him, pulling out a
notepad and pen and throwing them onto the table, making Jack flinch. He looked
down at the notepad quietly, his brows knitted together, then he looked up at
Pitch defiantly. He wasn't going to break his silence now, not even with a pen.
He felt as if the collar took away every form of communication he had, unless
it was to his owner. Despite the fact that he had ran away from him.
Pitch eyed him quietly, waiting for him to begin writing like he usually did,
but when he didn't, he snarled at him and slammed his hand on the table, making
him jump.
“Damnit, boy, write something!” He shouted, but Jack held tight, glaring at
Pitch and trying to keep his lower lip from trembling. They stared each other
down for a while, Pitch slowly getting more and more aggravated. He glared
harder at Jack, then huffed and threw himself back against the chair, crossing
his arms. Smoke curled from his nostrils, and Jack grimaced at the sight.
“What's that shit on your neck?” Pitch questioned him, and Jack gritted his
teeth, keeping his hands down and gripping the chair he sat on. Pitch brought a
hand up and tugged the cigarette from his lips, blowing a thick puff of smoke.
Jack turned his head and coughed a few times.
“Take it off,” Pitch demanded, and Jack looked back at him, half confused. When
he didn't respond, Pitch said again, “Take the collar off.”
Jack's hand went up to the collar immediately, his eyes widening, but when he
didn't remove it, Pitch narrowed his eyes at him and stood up from his chair.
He took a long drag from his cigarette as he walked around the table, keeping
his eyes locked with Jack, then all at once, he grabbed Jack by the hair and
thrust his head forward, his other hand tugging at the collar to try and remove
it. Jack yelped in shock, his head slamming against the metal table, and he
struggled against Pitch's grip for a moment in defiance, trying to throw him
off. He couldn't hit the man, though, and he felt his stomach lurch when the
collar at his neck loosened. The stability he felt with it on immediately began
to disintegrate, and panic flooded him.
He let out a loud yell as he flailed against Pitch's grip, and when the collar
loosened more, he actually reached up and grabbed Pitch the arm that held him
down, and he somehow mustered up the strength to throw him against the table.
Pitch gasped when he was suddenly moving, the cigarette falling from his lips,
and when his back hit the edge of the table, he grunted in pain. Jack was up
from the chair in moments, holding the collar against his throat to keep it
there, and his eyes were wide with rage. He took a moment to himself to tighten
his collar again, the bell jingling lightly, and when it was stable, he set his
gaze on Pitch again, who was still trying to understand how Jack was able to
get out of his grip.
Jack took two meek steps towards Pitch, his hands shaking, and he wanted to
intimidate him, or say something threatening, but the most he could do was
glare and shiver. Moments later, the door was thrown open by North, his eyes
wide and uncertain, and he looked at the both of them in confusion before he
said, “We heard yelling...”
“Well, what do you think happened?” Pitch shouted, pushing himself back to his
feet, “He attacked me! Why don't you use your miniscule brains to figure that
out?!”
“Do not think me a fool, Pitchiner, I distinctly heard Jack yelling!” North
growled, going up to the still shaking teen and shoving him behind him,
blocking Pitch from him. Pitch scoffed, throwing his arms up in exasperation.
“How would you know what he sounds like when he yells?!” Pitch argued, pointing
at Jack, who flinched and took a few more steps away, “You've never heard him
speak!”
North hesitated at that, knowing it was true, but he pointed out, “There were
only two in this room, and that yell was nothing like yours. I know your
shouting voice well, Pitch.”
North took a slow breath, then turned to look at Jack before he said, “You
better leave now, Pitch. We'll handle Jack ourselves.”
Pitch glowered at the two of them, but he straightened out his suit jacket and
purposefully stomped on the cigarette that had fallen to the ground, spreading
the mess on the tile floor. He took a moment to make sure his hair was smoothed
back, then he gracefully walked himself out, maintaining eye contact until he
was out of the room.
With Pitch gone, North turned to look at Jack, who was trembling still, and he
sighed and shook his head.
“Come on, Jack... can't you just say one thing?” He asked, his brows knitting
together in worry and, strangely enough, that same emotion Jack couldn't put a
word to. Though he knew Aster wore that same expression often enough the first
few nights he stayed with him. It was something that made him feel somewhat
cared for, something that made him feel safe, even if it was just a little.
Something he could trust in.
“Aster.”
Silence filled the room afterward, and North stared at Jack with a mix of
surprise and confusion. When Jack didn't repeat himself, North took a slow
breath, still just as confused, and he asked in a nervous voice, “S-Say again?”
Jack stared at him silently.
The moment had come and gone, and all North had was a word. He didn't know if
it was a name or not, but he had to figure out what it meant. And what that
sudden bought of cooperation meant, if it was cooperation after all. North
watched Jack cautiously, then opened up the door and gestured for Jack to take
the lead.
“Come on, let's put you in the holding cell,” He said, and Jack sighed and
walked on, knowing the station well enough to walk himself there. When he found
a vacant cell, he entered it willingly, and went straight for the bench in the
back to sit on. He pulled his knees up to his chest and watched as North locked
up the door, and they met eyes for a moment longer before North walked away. On
the opposite side of the room was another holding cell, filled with various
thugs and drunken college students, all of whom seemed a bit jealous that Jack
didn't have to share his space with them. It was more for their protection, the
police believed. Pitch had managed to convince them that Jack was a threat to
society when left alone, though they couldn't hold him in here without an
actual court order, and they couldn't lock him up in a crazy house without a
proper diagnoses, which Pitch refused to give until he gained full custody of
Jack's case.
It wouldn't be much longer until they finally got some evidence on their charge
for prostitution on him, since the most evidence they could find on him is
being in the bathroom stall and having a box of condoms on him. Who's to say he
wasn't just a sexually educated teen who had to take a leak?
But the facade only lasted so long, and Jack was sure his rope was nearing it's
end. He stretched out on the bench, laying on his back and staring at the
ceiling, his mind roaming. He wanted to go home, now. He wanted to be in
Aster's arms again and regain the stability they had. He needed him to take
control in the way only he could, with a foundation of ownership, heavily
blanketed with gentle affection and guided with reason.
But the fear of being hurt still lingered, and he wondered if going back home
would be a good idea. He had left to avoid the inevitable pain, but being out
here now that he had had a small taste of what it was like being with Aster...
it seemed pointless. Being without Aster was more painful than what he could
imagine Aster could ever do to him.
He rolled onto his side, facing the concrete wall, and he sighed. His eyes felt
heavy with the stress that day brought him, and the donut he had eaten before
was making his stomach turn unpleasantly. He began to nod off, vaguely hearing
North in the distance saying something about finding Aster.
He fell asleep within moments, too exhausted to think any more, and he dreamt
of what he usually did—Aster. Though the smell of cigarettes lingered on his
jacket, he was able to find himself in the man's arms, his hands brushing
through his hair and his bright green eyes looking down at him with pleasant
affection, and even though Jack couldn't understand him, he spoke soft words
that made his heart flutter.
He sighed as he leaned into the touch, letting his eyes shut for a moment as he
listened to Aster's gentle heart beat. His voice was kind and relaxing, and he
murmured in response, though he wasn't sure if anything intelligent actually
came out. He heard a soft shushing noise, and then more of Aster's voice, and
he struggled to open his eyes.
When he did, he saw concrete, and he panicked for a moment before he felt a
hand card through his hair, calloused but gentle. He sat up in a quick motion,
turning around, and when he saw Aster there, kneeling in front of him, he
didn't think twice before he threw his arms around him, hugging him tight.
North was standing at the cell door, watching them with a curious frown, but
Jack didn't care about him. He squeezed his eyes shut, then hid his face
against Aster's neck, holding onto his shirt tightly. Aster stayed still for a
moment, letting Jack cling to him, then he slowly placed his hands on Jack's
back and rubbed, and he took a small breath when Jack didn't flinch. Aster
pulled Jack off of the bench, getting him to his feet, but Jack still held onto
him, and Aster had to bend down so Jack's arms could hook around his neck.
“Jack...” he spoke up, and Jack merely hugged him tighter, getting a brief
chuckle from the taller man. He stroked his back a few more times, then a hand
crept up to Jack's neck, feeling the collar around it still. He rubbed it
gently and Jack let out a soft sigh, then Aster whispered, “Come on, let's get
you out of here.”
Jack slowly let go of him, untangling his fingers from Aster's shirt and
pulling away from him so he could look him in the eye, and he felt his heart
pound when he saw that oh so familiar look in his eyes. He wanted to say his
name, to beg to be taken home, to apologize, but every time he opened his
mouth, all he felt bubble up were sobs. Soon his cheeks were covered in tears,
and his hands began to shake again, so Aster pulled him close again and pressed
his forehead against Jack's, whispering, “Settle down, Jack... We'll get you
out of here right now.”
Jack closed his eyes and enjoyed the closeness, but it wasn't enough. He pulled
at Aster's shirt, trying to press himself against him, and he tugged at Aster's
arms, trying to wrap them around himself, but Aster kept his hands on his hips.
“Hush, hush,” He cooed, feeling his chest clench when Jack began to pull at
him, “Speak to me, Jack... Tell me what you need...”
“That won't work,” North decided to speak up, intervening on their little
moment, “He has selective mutism.... I don't really understand it, but he won't
talk to anyone.”
Aster pulled away from Jack to look at North, despite Jack's whimpers in
defiance, and he rose a doubtful brow before he turned back to Jack, running a
thumb against his cheek to get him to look at him.
“Jack,” He spoke up in the tone of voice that radiated control, and Jack's sobs
settled down to hiccups as he listened, and Aster gave him a soft smile before
he asked, “Tell me what you need.”
“Home,” Jack responded quickly, getting another surprised look from North, and
a small smile from Aster. He pulled Jack closer for a moment, tapping their
foreheads together again, and he nodded.
“Home,” he repeated softly, brushing his hand through Jack's hair again, then
he turned to look at North, who was frowning at them, “Everything's set,
right?”
“Yeah,” He replied, sounding uncertain, “his things are at the front desk...”
“Alright,” Aster replied, and he took Jack's hand in his own and began to lead
him out. Jack followed him closely, holding onto his hand tightly, and when
they reached the front desk, practically everyone in the station was watching
them. Aster took the backpack Jack had stolen from him, and he handed it to the
teen. Jack took it with shaking hands and slipped it over his shoulders, then
laced his fingers back with Aster's and leaned against him, trying to get rid
of the smell of cigarettes that still hung around him.
With everything gathered and Jack ready to go home, Aster began to lead him out
when he was stopped once more by North, who put a hand on his shoulder and
turned him around.
“I think we need to speak about something before you leave...” He said softly,
and Aster frowned at that.
“I need to take Jack home,” He argued, keeping their hands connected so that
Jack didn't feel left behind, “He's gone through enough today, and I need to
make sure he's okay.”
“I understand, but--” North began, but Aster didn't let him finish.
“Call me if you need to, but I'm leaving now.” He stated, and with an annoyed
huff, he turned away from the other, and put a hand around Jack's shoulders,
leading him out of the station. North didn't follow them, and when they got
into Aster's car, Aster sighed and leaned back in his seat. Jack sat down in
his, watching Aster uncertainly, now that they were alone. He couldn't tell
before, but now that they were away from everyone else, he could practically
feel how tense Aster was.
Jack was nervous, now. He had never been around Aster when he was anything but
pleasant and happy. He wasn't sure if Aster would lash out or yell, or if Aster
considered this mess to be Jack's fault. He waited impatiently for some sort of
scolding, but all Aster did was rub his forehead and sigh. He turned to look at
Jack, and Jack tensed up and looked away, but Aster didn't like that, so he
reached out and brushed his hand down Jack's cheek.
“Take a deep breath, kit... we'll be home soon.” He said, and Jack took a slow,
deep breath like he was told to. When he was calmer, Aster sat up straight and
put the car into drive, and he drove them back to his apartment.
The drive was quiet the entire way there, and even as they climbed the stairs
to Aster's floor, they didn't speak. They entered Aster's apartment, and Jack
took one look around before he went straight for the couch, tugging off his
smoke-scented jacket and flopping down on the cushions, pulling one of the
pillows close and taking a deep breath. They smelled good.
“Kit, down.” Aster ordered automatically, and Jack hesitated a moment before he
rolled off the couch, though he took the pillow with him. He laid on the ground
instead, still pressing his nose against the pillow, and he watched as Aster
walked over to the couch and sat down. He was deep in thought, and Jack didn't
like it.
He abandoned the pillow to press his cheek against Aster's knee, and he
continued to stare up at him, easily fitting back into his pet persona. Aster's
eyes flickered down to him, then he sighed and leaned his elbows against his
knees.
“Jack,” He said, and Jack perked up automatically, “Kneel in front of me.”
Jack did so without question, putting his hands on the couch between Aster's
legs, wondering what the other had planned, and he smiled a little when Aster
brushed his thumb against his cheek. He closed his eyes, enjoying Aster's
touches, but then he felt his hand slide down to his neck, and he began to undo
his collar.
Jack's eyes snapped open immediately, and he looked up at Aster with wide eyes,
looking nervous. Aster smiled at him, then removed the collar completely, and
he said, “We need to talk...”
Jack didn't respond at first, feeling unstable without the collar to ground
him, but he nodded and got up, sitting beside Aster on the couch. The man
looked at him for a bit longer, then he reached out and pet his hair, frowning
when he saw him flinch a little.
“D'you want me?” Jack asked softly, and Aster huffed and closed his eyes,
shaking his head.
“Don't ask that, Jack,” Aster replied, pulling him closer and pressing their
foreheads together, “I always want you....”
Jack let out a relieved breath, his own eyes slipping shut, then he asked, “Am
I in trouble?”
“No,” Aster said immediately, putting his hand on the back of Jack's neck and
rubbing, “I just need to ask you something. I need to know why you left...”
Jack sighed at the question, opening his eyes again to look at Aster's face,
and when Aster didn't look at him, he put his own small hands against Aster's
cheek, tilting his head up. Aster refused to open his eyes, so Jack took the
initiative, and he timidly pressed his lips against Aster's, kissing him
lightly.
“'M home, now... I came back...” Jack whispered when he pulled away, and Aster
quickly pulled him back into another kiss, though it was a lot more desperate
than what Jack gave him. Still, Jack kissed back, putting his hands on Aster's
shoulders and sighing through his nose. Aster's hands went to Jack's hips, and
he pulled the teen onto his lap, still kissing him.
Aster pressed his tongue past Jack's lips, earning a moan from the teen on him,
and Jack rushed to greet him, his hands going up to Aster's neck, and he
pressed as close as he could to Aster. The older man pulled away to bite down
on Jack's bottom lip, getting a startled gasp from him.
“I need to know...” Aster begged breathlessly, keeping their lips only a breath
apart, despite how much Jack tried to push forward to kiss him, “Please...”
“Aster...” Jack whined, not wanted to tell him the truth, and he successfully
sealed their lips together again, distracting him adequately for a few moments
before Aster pulled away.
“Please... please...” Aster begged him, and Jack whimpered and shook his head,
kissing along Aster's jawline.
“Take me,” Jack whispered, tugging at Aster's shirt, “Hold me... Fuck me... Own
me...” he begged, getting more and more desperate with each command. He kissed
Aster again, hoping he could distract him and end this conversation, but even
though Aster kissed back and began groping at Jack's ass, pulling him even
closer, he still pulled away and begged for Jack to tell him.
“Don't make me,” Jack whimpered, rolling his hips against Aster's, “Just love
me... love me...”
“Jack...” Aster breathed, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment, then he lifted
Jack up by his hips and spun them around, laying Jack down on the couch and
laying on top of him, fitting himself right between his hips. Jack gasped
pleasantly, pleasure flowing through him as Aster ground his hips down against
his, and he hooked his legs around Aster's hips to keep him there.
“Please...” Aster whispered again, but when Jack only tried to grind against
him again, Aster gritted his teeth, then pinned Jack's hips down on the couch
with his hands, looking him in the eyes.
“Jack,” He said sternly, and Jack's eyes darted up to him, wide and fearful,
“Tell me.”
Jack's eyes flickered between Aster's, unable to distract the man again to get
out of this situation, and when he knew he wouldn't be let out of this unless
he spoke up, he began to bite down on his lip.
“I-I was scared...” Jack admitted, and Aster blinked in surprise, then slowly
moved off of him, sitting up on his knees to look down at him. Jack avoided eye
contact, feeling shameful about it, and he quickly rambled, “I knew I shouldn't
be, but... but I was scared you'd hurt me. I didn't wanna get hurt.”
“Was it something I did?” Aster asked him, staying upright, even though Jack
wanted to feel his weight on him, “Did I scare you?”
Jack thought about it for a little, his brow furrowing, then he shook his head
stiffly, “But I didn't wanna be tricked. I... I know its gunna come. I know
you're gunna hurt me... I didn't wanna wait for it to happen.”
“Jack...” Aster sighed, slowly placing his hands on Jack's knees and slowly
sliding them up and down, “Jack, you know I'd never hurt you...”
“Maybe,” He replied with a slight shrug, “But you might without meaning to.”
Aster stared at him quietly, contemplating his words, and when Aster didn't
reply, Jack squirmed against him and whispered, “You know.... yeah? S-so... so
fuck me...”
“.... no.” Aster replied softly, and Jack felt his stomach lurch.
“Aster...?” He asked, his heart pounding, wondering if he had just ruined the
mood with what he said, and he tried to lift his hips, but Aster's hold on him
was solid.
“No.” He said again, a bit more sternly than before, and he met Jack's eyes,
“I'm not going to fuck you.”
Panic began to flood him, and Jack sat up in a rush, wondering what he did
wrong and how he could fix it, but before he got all the way upright, Aster put
a hand right on his chest and laid him back down.
“I'm not going to fuck you... I'm going to take care of you, first. I'm going
to make sure you're okay, first.” He decided, and Jack relaxed a bit as Aster
spoke. Seeing him calm down urged the older man to continue, and he added,
“I'll touch you and fuck you and love you all you want once I make sure you're
alright, and feeling safe.”
Aster watched Jack's expression closely, and when the teen was laying back
against the couch once more, he asked in a whisper, “Would you like that?”
Jack nodded slowly, looking up at Aster with an enraptured gaze, and Aster
smiled a little, and he rubbed Jack's legs again before he got up. He scooped
Jack up in his arms, hoisting him up with little effort, and he carried the
teen to the bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet. He turned on the faucet,
adjusting the heat skillfully, then he began to strip Jack of his clothes,
going slow, but trying to keep it as casual as he could. Still, when he got
Jack completely naked, he saw the teen was sporting a halfie, which Aster took
as a compliment.
He helped the teen into the bathtub, letting him sit down, and when Jack
automatically scooted forward to make room for Aster, the older man smiled a
little, and undressed himself quickly before he got in behind him. As the tub
filled, Aster ran the water over Jack's body, then he grabbed the soap and went
right to work, lathering up the soap before he began to scrub at Jack's arms.
Jack stayed awake this time, watching Aster's hands drag the soft sponge across
his body, and even though Aster promised not to touch him until Jack was all
better, Jack convinced him to kiss him lightly, wherever his lips could reach.
He leaned back against the man and pleaded in half sentences and with his best
puppy-dog eyes until Aster's lips pressed against the back of Jack's neck. He
continued this gentle treatment of sudsy scrubs and neck kisses until Jack was
clean, then he emptied out the tub and dried the both of them off, doing
everything himself, and only pausing when Jack insisted he could do it alone.
He stood there, the towel wrapped around his waist, and he watched as Jack
tugged on his pyjama sweats, not caring that he didn't have any briefs on
underneath, and then he pulled a shirt on, too.
When he was decent, he looked up at Aster briefly, only to feel his heart jump
when he saw those bright green eyes gazing down at him, filled with that
nameless emotion Jack loved. He struggled to tear his eyes away, but he felt
them rolling back up to him again, and Aster gave him a small, reassuring smile
before he said, “Tell me what you need.”
“You.” Jack replied immediately, and that nameless emotion subsided to lust and
adoration, but Aster didn't act on it like he did before this mess. Instead, he
took a long breath, then shook his head.
“I mean... tell me what you need to make you feel comfortable, Jack. You
already have me.” He said, and Jack's eyelids fluttered for a moment before he
looked away, and he fiddled with the hem of his shirt nervously as he thought.
“Maybe... dinner?” He suggested, and he glanced up at Aster to see him nodding,
and he opened the bathroom door.
“Dinner sounds good.” He agreed, letting Jack step out first, then adding, “Why
don't you lay down and relax? I'll have it ready in just a few minutes, okay?”
“Kay...” Jack replied softly, but instead of going to the television, Jack went
straight for Aster's bed, and he crawled on top of it. He paused when he saw
the blanket he liked folded and set neatly at the foot of the bed, and he
decided to take it and unfold it with a few rough shakes. He laid back on the
bed and wrapped himself up in the blanket, resting his head on one of the soft
pillows, and he watched as Aster turned his back to him and rustled through the
dresser. With his at-home attire chosen and placed atop the dresser, Aster
dropped the towel that hung around his hips and began to dress. Jack kept his
eyes on him the entire time, holding the blanket up to his nose and breathing
lightly, as if worried he might catch Aster's attention. He let out a slow
breath as Aster covered up his dark skin with his night clothes, and when the
man was completely dressed, Jack wondered to himself if that was all he missed.
But then Aster turned to look at him, quickly checking to make sure the teen
was settled, and when he saw the way Jack's shoulders tensed underneath the
blanket, Aster went to his bedside and leaned down, brushing a soft hand down
his cheek. Jack's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, enjoying the gesture, and
he sighed lightly when lips pressed down on his forehead.
“One to ten... how afraid are you?” Aster asked him, and Jack thought about his
question for a moment before he lowered the blanket from his lips.
“One being...?” He asked in return.
“One being absolutely content and at ease... and ten being... being...” He
struggled to find the words for it, and Jack knew he could never fill in a gap
in Aster's dictionary with his own feeble elementary school vocabulary, but he
tried anyways.
“On the... verge of running?” Jack suggested, and Aster's eyes darted to him
for a moment before he nodded.
“Yes.”
Jack stared at him for a bit longer, then thought about how he felt for a
while. He had never tried to put his emotions to words, much less numbers, and
he wasn't sure if he would be so accurate like this, but he tried anyways. He
tried to gauge how fast his heart was beating, gauge how much his hands shook.
He tried to determine his mental state, and even though Pitch's flowery,
complicated words fluttered through his mind as he did this, he was able to
come up with a semi-definite result, and he looked up at Aster before
answering, “Six.”
“What's making you scared?” Aster asked him, sitting down on the bed and
carefully brushing his fingers through Jack's hair, relieved that the teen was
willing to go along with this instead of clamming up like when they first were
together.
Jack thought about that for a bit longer, his eyes roaming the ceiling, then
the wall, and he slowly explained, “I... I dunno what you're feeling. You're
not happy... not totally. And I want my collar back, but... you took it off.
And I'm waiting for... for...”
He fell into silence, and he brought the blanket back up to his lips, feeling
his throat clenching up at the idea of Aster 'disciplining' him, as Pitch would
have called it. He had left without Aster's permission, after all, and he had
broken the law and had wound up in a holding cell once again, and Aster had to
go out of his way to get him out. Jack was at fault for a lot of things now,
and he knew his punishment was eminent.
Aster leaned forward a little, studying Jack's face, and his brow only furrowed
when Jack corrected himself and murmured, “Eight...”
“What are you waiting for?” Aster decided to ask, since speaking of that was
what made Jack's anxiety spike, and he figured that if it was something Aster
could remove or replace, it could help the other greatly. Jack glanced at him
for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders.
“Punishment...” He answered, and he closed his eyes when he heard Aster's
breath seize in his chest. Aster watched him for a bit longer, his heart
racing, and he struggled to figure out what to do when an idea came to mind.
“Ah...” He vocalized, looking away from Jack and towards the window, “So you're
worried about your punishment...”
Jack squeezed his eyes tighter and tugged the blanket higher, and he thought to
himself how he was right, in the end. He felt his bottom lip quiver at the
thought of Aster turning on him, bringing down his fists on the shaking teen,
but Aster only chuckled dryly.
“Jack... put your hand to your neck.” Aster said, and he waited for a moment
until he saw the blanket shifting from where Jack's hand was moving, and his
eyes opened just a bit. His fingers brushed along his bare neck, and Aster
asked him, “Do you feel a collar there?”
“.... No....” Jack answered hoarsely, and Aster nodded with a smile.
“Exactly.” He said, and Jack's eyes opened a little more in confusion, “That's
because you're not my pet right now. You're Jack, a young man with gorgeous
blue eyes and striking white hair, and who may be shy at first, but is still
the most interesting person I have ever met....”
Jack looked at him now, confusion still visible, and Aster chuckled lightly and
said, “And when you wear your collar... do you know what you are?”
“A rabbit.” Jack answered, and Aster nodded.
“My rabbit. My kit, Jack. And I have to take care of you, and play with you,
and make sure you're cleaned and groomed and happy. You're not Jack with the
collar on. And you weren't Jack when you ran away. You won't be punished for
what you didn't do.”
Jack stared at him for a bit longer, his eyes wide and sparkling with relieved
tears, and his hand rubbed at his neck a bit more before he asked, “But... when
I... When I wear it again... you'll...?”
“Punish you the way I told you I will. If you're up for it, I'll deny you your
orgasms for a time. If you're not, then I'll sit you out in the corner. After
that, it will all be over with.” Aster finished with a smile, and Jack
swallowed thickly a few times, his hand still at his neck.
“You won't... get angry...?” He asked, and Aster shook his head no. Jack
blinked hard a few times, his breath shuddering, “You won't... hold a grudge?”
He shook his head again, and Jack struggled to breath regularly. He felt as if
he had just dodged a fatal bullet, and he clutched at the front of his shirt
tightly as he let Aster's words catch up to him. Aster watched him slowly sit
up, the blanket slipping down into his lap, and after a long lapse of silence,
Jack looked up at Aster and breathed out, “Five...”
“Good.” He replied happily, “It's better than before. Now, you must be hungry.”
“I am.” Jack spoke up, mumbling a bit less now, and he watched as Aster got up
from the bed and headed into the living room. Jack hesitated for a moment, not
wanting to be alone, so he got up and hung the blanket around his shoulders
like a cape, then rushed to the living room as well, hopping onto the couch and
kneeling on it, watching Aster begin to cook their dinner. Aster didn't look at
him as he cooked, not sure if Jack would get nervous if he did, but he did have
one more question on his mind.
He called out over his shoulder, “Jack... there's one more thing I'd like to
know...” and Jack hummed in response, tilting his head a little as he watched
Aster's back, “What was that officer talking about before? He said you had
selective mutism...”
“Yeah,” Jack replied with a shrug, and he scratched at his cheek, “My
psychologist says it's due to 'traumatic events'. I haven't spoken to anyone
for a few years now... not really.”
“Psychologist?” Aster repeated, turning to look at Jack, who quickly dropped
his gaze to the back of the couch and fiddled with the stitching, “Are you
supposed to be receiving treatment?”
“No!” Jack immediately answered, his head snapping up to meet Aster's eyes, “I
don't need anything! I'm fine!”
Aster hesitated, taken aback by Jack's sudden outburst, and he stared at the
other for a few silent seconds before he saw the other take a slow, shaking
breath, his shoulders tense. Blinking hard, Jack's gaze lowered again, and he
ground his teeth together anxiously. Aster considered what to say or do, but
nothing came to mind, so all he said was, “I'm... sorry. We won't talk about
it.”
Jack didn't respond immediately, and Aster wondered if he was slipping into an
anxiety attack, or worse, about to fall mute to him, as well. Luckily, Jack was
able to murmur out a stiff, “Good.” and Aster felt relieved.
He had a lot more questions for Jack, but he didn't think it would be smart to
rile him up so much in one day, especially since he had just brought him home
from the police station. Instead, he fell quiet and focused on cooking, keeping
his back to Jack, and when it was all done, he plated the food and asked over
his shoulder, “Do you want to eat by yourself?”
Jack thought about it quietly, pulling his blanket tighter around his
shoulders. He knew Aster wanted to eat with him, and Jack didn't want to be
alone right now, but he didn't want Aster to ask him any more questions about
his mental state. He had gone through enough that day to be sick of it, and he
didn't want to be reminded of his issues when he was somewhere his issues
couldn't seem to touch him. He pressed his lips into a line, and when Aster
glanced at him, his eyes flickered away, but he forced himself to make eye
contact.
“I don't want to be alone.” Jack answered, and he could see that nameless
emotion fill Aster's eyes in a heartbeat, and he took the two plates over to
the couch, handing one to Jack before he sat down. Jack cuddled up against
Aster's side, beginning to eat already, and he whispered, “Just... don't ask me
'bout that stuff anymore...”
“Okay,” Aster replied, wrapping an arm around Jack's shoulders to keep him
close, and he kissed the top of his head, “But if you need help--”
Jack interrupted him with a stern, “Ask for help. I know.” and Aster took a
slow breath before he nodded. Jack glanced up at the man, then back down at his
plate before saying, “I don't need a doctor.”
“Then we won't bother with one for now.” Aster replied, and when Jack looked at
him with a frown, he sighed and said, “If you get worse, I won't take no for an
answer, Jack. If you think you're fine, then you're fine, but if you begin to
feel otherwise, we'll have to find you someone who can help you.”
Jack stared at him for a bit longer, still frowning, then he muttered, “I'm
fine...”
“I know.” Aster sighed, pulling him closer and kissing his forehead, “And I'll
care for you even if you aren't. Now finish eating so we can go to bed. I have
work in the morning and I know I won't be able to get up if we stay up too
late.”
“Sorry...” Jack murmured, and Aster rose a brow before he smiled and kissed his
temple, then his cheek, then his neck, and he didn't stop until Jack was
smiling again.
“Don't apologize, I'm just a grumpy guy in the morning.” He explained, and Jack
smiled a bit more and finished his meal. Aster took the plate from him, then
said, “Go get comfortable. I'll be in after I was these.”
“'Kay.” Jack replied, and he got up with his blanket and walked towards the
bedroom. Aster could hear the bed creak when he jumped on top, and he smiled a
little to himself. He finished washing the dishes, then headed for the bed
himself, turning off the lights as he went, and Jack made sure there was enough
room for Aster. The man pulled back the blankets Jack still didn't sleep under,
and he got in slowly, making sure he didn't knock the other off as he made
himself comfortable.
When they were both laying down in the darkness, Jack curled up with the one
blanket over him and Aster pulling the other three up to his chin, Jack slowly
inched closer to him, unable to settle down until Aster rolled onto his side
and hung an arm across Jack's body, pulling him close. Jack hid his face
against Aster's neck, his nose feeling the slight prickliness of fine facial
hair just underneath his chin, and he smiled to himself and took a deep breath.
“I missed you,” Aster whispered, rubbing his hand up and down Jack's back and
trying to suppress the urge to laugh since Jack was sort of tickling him when
he nuzzled against his neck, “I know I said you could leave whenever you wanted
to, but... I don't think I want you to. Not without a proper goodbye.”
Jack closed his eyes as Aster spoke, feeling the vibrations of his voice
through his throat, and he tilted his head back a little to kiss the Adam's
apple that kept bobbing, getting a soft sigh from the man. Aster's hand stalled
on his back, and he asked uncertainly, “Do you think you can do me a favor?”
Jack hummed curiously, kissing his Adam's apple again just because he liked the
way Aster responded, and Aster swallowed thickly before saying, “Next time you
feel like running away... wake me up.”
Jack didn't agree to it right away, like usual. Rather, he laid there, still
pressed close to Aster and enjoying his smell. Aster began to get nervous by
the silence, so he called out timidly, “Jack?”
Jack sighed against Aster's skin, raising a few goosebumps, and he whispered,
“Okay...” and he could feel the older man relax around him. Aster's hand
resumed running up and down his back, and Jack melted into the touch. With
Aster's smell surrounding him, and his calloused but soft hands holding him,
Jack felt as if nothing bad could ever touch him, and it made a strange and
only slightly overwhelming sense of satisfaction wash through him.
He briefly compared it to sex, in his mind, then smiled at the ridiculousness
of it. This was better.
“What time do you work?” Jack asked him lightly, and Aster hummed a little as
he continued to stroke his back.
“Six. I get off at two.” Aster answered, and Jack frowned a little before
pressing closer against him.
“G'night...” He murmured, and Aster returned the sentiment with a hum and a
tighter grip around him. Jack kept his eyes shut and sighed again, before he
began to allow himself to fall asleep. He didn't want another nightmare
tonight, but he couldn't control it. He could only hope that if he did, Aster
would help him through it, like he promised.
Aster felt himself begin to slip, as well, falling asleep much faster now that
he no longer felt the pressing loneliness he had become accustomed to before he
had ever met Jack. He still wasn't sure why he was so drawn to the teen so
much, but he didn't care to think about it any more now that he had Jack in his
arms once more, and with the way the teen was pressing against him, the way his
breath was warm against his skin, and the way he could feel his heart beat
through his back, he knew it was the only thing he would want for a long while.
Soon, they were both asleep, and luckily for them, Jack didn't have another
nightmare. He wouldn't be able to remember his dream in the morning, and
neither would Aster, since they were both jolted awake by the sound of Aster's
alarm clock. Jack groaned and rolled over, pulling his blanket above his head,
and Aster sighed as he forced himself up, silencing the alarm and beginning to
tug off his clothes.
Jack fell back asleep in seconds, and Aster couldn't help but chuckle when he
heard Jack mumbling under his breath. He dressed quickly, fixing his hair and
brushing his teeth, then he went to the sleeping Jack and kissed his forehead,
whispering, “I'll see you later today, okay?”
Jack continued to sleep, and Aster decided that was a good enough response, so
he left the bedroom and pulled on his shoes. He picked up the jacket Jack had
left on the ground, the same one he had taken when he left, and he sniffed it
briefly before grimacing. He hated the smell of smoke, and though it was faint,
it was enough to make Aster want to wash the jacket before he wore it out. He
tossed it onto the armchair, then went to the jacket closet and pulled out a
different one, though it wasn't his favorite.
He left soon after, opting out to eat at work, instead of being late, and he
closed the door behind him quietly.
Jack slept for a couple more hours, and when he finally did wake up, he found
the room to be less comfortable than when Aster was with him. He didn't let it
bother him, though, and he got up and did what he usually did when Aster wasn't
around. He turned on the TV and raided the kitchen, finding himself any kind of
snack food he could carry, and bringing it with him into the living room. He
ate like a king, and took a nap when he was full. When he woke up, he realized
it was almost time for Aster to come home, so he rushed to clean up his mess.
It was close to one thirty when he was done, and he laid back on the couch,
looking at his collar sitting on the table, and only half paying attention to
the show that was playing. He reached out to the collar, picking it up and
brushing his fingers against it. The bell jingled lightly, giving him a small
sense of comfort, and he slowly brought it back to his neck.
The leather was lined with a comfortable fur, and it felt wonderful against his
skin. He sat up, and pulled the collar tight around his throat, latching it in
place and straightening it out. The bell jingled more, and continued to do so
as Jack sat up to look at himself in the reflection of the glass table. He
brushed his fingers against the collar with a smile, then wondered if Aster
would have any more, or if plain black leather was what he preferred.
Jack knew Aster said Pets didn't wear clothes, though he let Jack wear his
boxers when they played that one time, and Jack wondered if that meant Aster
wouldn't dress him up like some people dressed their actual pets. He laid back
on the couch with a sigh, briefly remembering that Aster said he would groom
him, and he shivered a little when he thought about Aster's hands running over
his skin, and a razor carefully sliding across his skin, dangerously close to
his groin.
With one hand staying at the collar on his neck, another began to creep down
his chest, dragging on the cloth of his shirt and thinking it felt strange, but
he didn't move to take it off. He continued to bring his hand down his body,
his breath shuddering when his fingers finally felt the skin of his stomach
where his shirt was hiked up. His eyes slipped shut and his fingers ran back
and forth along his pelvis, occasionally brushing against the hem of his
sweatpants, and he gasped lightly when he felt his pubic hair bend beneath his
touch. He swallowed thickly, and he pushed his fingers further down, slipping
underneath his pants and following the line of hair he had. He imagined Aster
to be holding the razor, sliding the blade oh so slowly up, then going back
down to do it again.
He imagined Aster's other hand slowly sliding around his cock, holding it up
and out of the way as the razor ventured further down, and he gasped when his
own grip around his cock tightened. His blood pulsed, and his skin grew hot,
and he could almost feel Aster breathing against his neck, whispering gentle
words of encouragement. The hand around his cock slowly slid up, the grip still
tight, and Jack's body trembled.
He wanted to moan Aster's name, but the collar at his neck kept him silent,
even when Aster's presence was only in his mind. He stroked himself faster, his
hips lifting off of the couch, only to drop back down again, a wordless moan
tearing from his throat. He briefly considered fingering himself, but he could
hear Aster whisper in his mind, “Now, now, kitten, if I went that far, I'll
risk cutting you on accident,” so he kept his hands from straying too far down.
He pumped himself faster, now, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. He had
pulled himself free of his pants by now, his sweats twisting with how much his
hips twitched and jerked into his hand, and he heard Aster's scolding voice in
his ear, saying with a smile, “Settle down, kit, settle down...”
But he couldn't control himself. He whined in defiance, his head rolling to the
side, and he hooked a finger around the collar at his neck, trying to regain a
sense of stability when his entire body felt like it was on fire, and his mind
was falling to pieces. His hand tightened around his cock, precum dripping from
the head and running down his shaft. He bit down on his lip, sweat dripping
down his skin, and he whined again, wordlessly begging for his imagined Aster
to let him cum, but he heard the man click his tongue at him in mock
disappointment, and he whispered, “So impatient... We're only just getting
started, aren't we?”
He was getting so into it, he barely registered the door unlocking. He gasped
and rocked into his hand, his head rolling from side-to-side, but he jolted up
when he heard the door swing open, followed by Aster announcing his arrival
with a cheery, “Jack, I'm—!”
Jack sat up quickly, his eyes wide, then he struggled to pull his sweats back
up to cover his hard on, and to undo his collar at the same time. His cheeks
were bright red in embarrassment, and he struggled to get an apology out.
Aster slowly closed the door behind him, his eyebrows high on his forehead and
his eyes twinkling, and he tugged off his coat before he began to approach
Jack, who was unable to get the collar off, nor pull his pants up properly,
though he was mostly covered now. Jack forced himself to stop messing with the
collar, and he looked down at his lap shamefully, wondering if Aster would mock
him or punish him.
He felt Aster's fingers brush against the back of his collar, and he shuddered
lightly. The couch bent down as Aster sat behind him, and Jack felt his heart
jump when Aster pressed his lips against his shoulder.
“Having fun?” He whispered, and Jack didn't respond. He didn't pull away,
either, so Aster thought it was a good sign. Still, he didn't want to scare
Jack away again, so he asked, “How are you? One to ten?”
Jack struggled to answer, caught between the embarrassment at having been
caught, and the thrill that came with it, too. Now that Aster was home, they
could easily get back into the swing of things and Jack could have the man fuck
him like no tomorrow, but he was scared that this was going to be something
Aster would mock him over.
“Seven...” He decided, his heart pounding fast, though Jack didn't know if it
was from excitement or fear, then he furrowed his brow and revised himself,
“Maybe... six.”
“Do you want to stop?” Aster asked him, and Jack didn't have to think as long
as before when he answered.
“No.”
Aster paused for a moment, studying his face from where he could see it, then
he looked down at the collar and brushed his fingers along it again, then
asked, “Do you want to be Jack... or my pet, right now?”
Jack struggled for an answer once more, loving the idea of Aster having
absolute control over him, denying him even the simplest forms of basic human
rights like speaking and bodily autonomy, but he wanted to be something more
than just Aster's bunny at the moment. He needed a stronger emotional
connection from the man, something more than what he was given when he was just
being doted on as a pet rabbit.
“Can... Can I be both...?” He asked in a whisper, and Aster hummed softly at
the idea, then ultimately nodded. Jack let out a small breath of relief, and he
whispered, “Five. What are the rules?”
“Same as before. Do as I say when I say it. But your speech is only limited.
You can say our names, can tell me yes or no, or give me a number to determine
your anxiety, but nothing else. Understood?”
“Yes...” Jack replied quickly, and he felt Aster smile against his neck before
he kissed his skin.
“Good... Safe word is same as before.” He reminded, and Jack swallowed thickly,
and he let Aster guide him down on the couch, laying him on his back. He began
to remove Jack's shirt, and the teen arched his back to help him get it off,
then Aster's hands went to Jack's sweatpants, and he began to slide them down,
exposing Jack's straining cock.
Aster hummed as he looked over Jack's naked form, and he brushed his fingers
through Jack's pubic hair once more before he asked him, “What should I do to
you, then? Catching you playing so desperately with yourself on my couch... I
don't know if I should punish you or indulge you...”
Jack whimpered lightly, his own hands heading down for his cock, but Aster
stopped him with a sharp look and a smirk. He brought his hands into fists,
then huffed and lifted his hips impatiently, wanting to demand Aster to stop
messing around and touch him already.
Aster's eyes softened a little, then he said, “But I don't want to scare you,
do I? You ran away once already... I don't think you'll stay if I punish you.”
Jack's own impatient look wavered, replaced instead with mild curiosity and
relief, and Aster gave him a light smile before he leaned down and kissed him
right at the center of his chest. He lingered there for a moment, then brought
his lips lower and kissed him again, then again, then again, until he was right
at the start of Jack's happy trail, just below his naval. He hummed a little,
bringing a hand up to tousle with the hair again, then looked up at Jack and
asked, “Do you like it?”
Jack bit his lip in thought. He didn't care for it one way or another, and he
knew that if he got rid of it and ended up missing it, he could just wait for
it to grow back. Besides, he wanted to experience Aster grooming him, at least
once. He felt his cock twitch at the thought of Aster teasing him while sliding
a razor across him, and he closed his eyes for a moment as he slipped into his
imagination, but he wasn't gone for long.
“Do you want me to groom you?” Aster asked next, getting Jack's attention once
more, and the teen finally had an answer he was allowed to say.
“Yes,” He spoke up, and he could see the happiness and eagerness that filled
Aster's eyes.
“Maybe on my next day off,” He said, and Jack couldn't help but smile at the
idea. Aster went back down, kissing along Jack's happy trail, and when he
reached the base of his dick, he glanced up at the teen, making sure he was
still okay.
“Number.” He requested, and Jack let out a shaky breath, his hands gripping the
couch material tightly.
“Four,” He answered, and Aster considered it for a moment before he nodded and
brought a hand up to hold Jack's cock steady. The teen gasped sharply at the
feeling, his head tilting back for a moment, but then Aster cleared his throat.
“Jack,” He said strictly, “Keep your eyes on me.”
He struggled a little to comply, not wanting to look down at where Aster was in
fear that he'd unload right then and there, but he did as he was told and
forced himself to look. His heart was pounding in his chest and his cock
twitched once more, earning an amused smirk from the older man. Aster made eye
contact with the teen, then commanded him, “Don't take your eyes off of me or
else I'll stop. You don't have a time limit this time.”
“Yes...” Jack breathed, and he had to lick his lips to keep them from drying
out, though he noticed the action only fueled Aster's lust. The man held eye
contact for a few more seconds, then let his gaze drop down to Jack's dick,
instead. He lowered his head and hummed inquisitively, then decided to just go
straight for it. His lips made contact with the shaft of Jack's cock, parting
slightly so he could suck at the skin, and his tongue briefly swiped against
what it could reach. Jack jolted in his grip, his eyes falling half shut,
though he kept them on Aster. His breathing quickened immediately, already so
turned on from playing with himself before, and he was eager to reach his
climax at Aster's hand, knowing he preferred that much more than masturbation.
Aster's lips moved to a new spot, sucking and licking there as well, and his
eyes briefly flickered up to make sure Jack was still watching, and he hummed
in approval when he saw those baby blue eyes on him. He pulled away from his
shaft to circle his tongue against the head, instead, then he sealed his lips
around Jack's cock, slipping his tongue between the head and his foreskin.
Jack's hips jolted up when Aster's tongue circled around just beneath the
foreskin, and he let out a strained moan, his hands gripping the couch tighter.
Aster flexed his tongue, pulling the foreskin away just a bit, then he pulled
back and sealed his lips around him. He moved his head down, pushing the
foreskin down and exposing the head, and Jack's body trembled uncontrollably
under his ministrations.
“A-Aster....” Jack breathed, his hand roaming down and his fingers pushing
through his hair. The older man smirked briefly, then continued to push down,
not stopping until he felt Jack's pubic hair brush against his nose. He stayed
there, sucking hard and rolling his tongue against him, and his hand went down
to squeeze his sack, rolling his testes against his palm.
His mouth was hot and wet, and every time he added suction, Jack felt his mind
go blank. Each time Aster stroked his tongue along his shaft, Jack felt his
heart pound in his chest and his breath rattle past his lips. Pleasure was
flowing through him in waves, and they were just getting more persistent. It
felt as though his entire self was being washed away, and though the collar at
his neck kept the pieces from falling apart completely, Jack's sense of self
was washed away in moments, and the only identity he had to hold onto while
Aster swallowed him down was as the man's cherished plaything, his pet.
He arched his back and moaned when he felt Aster swallow around him, and his
head rolled to the side, his eyes sliding shut. He jerked his hips up once,
twice, but then he felt Aster pull away, and he whimpered in need. His cock
throbbed from the loss, and he heard Aster chuckle lightly before saying,
“Focus, Jack. Eyes on me.”
“No...” Jack whined, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head, and Aster
grinned a bit more.
“No?” He repeated, “Why not? Don't you like it?”
Jack breathed heavily for a few moments, thinking about it, then he whined
again and lifted his hips, hoping to get him to suck again, but Aster merely
moved his head out of the way and rose a brow.
“Jack,” He said scoldingly, and the teen bit down on his lip and slowly,
timidly, made eye contact with him again. Aster smiled at him, and he wrapped
his hand around Jack's cock and gave him a long stroke, making the teen gasp in
pleasure. His eyes rolled back for a moment, but he was quick to focus them
again, and Aster smiled wider.
“Good boy,” He praised him, giving him a few more slow strokes, “Now keep your
eyes on me, Jack. It's okay if you cum.”
“No... No...” Jack whimpered, but he continued to look at him, and he moaned
again when Aster's hand picked up speed.
“What? Don't you want to cum?” Aster asked him, amused by his answers, and he
leaned down and casually licked the head of his dick, making him gasp and
tremble.
“No...” He breathed, his eyes glazed over now, but still on Aster.
“You don't want it to end, huh?” Aster finally guessed, and Jack whined
immediately in response.
“Yes... yes...!” He panted, both as an answer and as a response to Aster
squeezing his hand tighter around him, practically milking him of his precum.
He let out a desperate whimper as Aster licked him again, and his hips twitched
up eagerly.
“But I want you to cum, Jack.” Aster whispered against his skin, his hot breath
making goosebumps rise along Jack's body, “I want to taste you... I want to
please my precious pet... So will you cum for me?”
Jack bit his lip as he thought about it, though his thoughts were scrambled and
incoherent, and they only got worse when Aster licked a fat stripe up the shaft
of his cock. Jack's body quaked as he looked down at the older man, his breath
coming fast and hard, then he began to nod and he whispered, “Yes... Aster...”
Aster grinned wide, then gave the top of his cock a light kiss before he
whispered, “Good boy...”
All at once, Jack was flooded with pleasure once more, and Aster bobbed his
head at a fast pace, keeping the suction tight. Jack cried out and jerked his
hips up, gripping Aster's hair tighter and trying to stay in that wet warmth.
Aster tugged at Jack's hips, urging him to thrust, and when Jack got the memo,
he put his other hand on Aster's head and began to move. He didn't last long
after, what with Aster sucking him tight, even when he slid back out. He had
thrusted only a third time when he felt like he could cry from the sensation
overwhelming him, and on the next one after that, he finally came, his nails
digging into Aster's scalp and his hips twitching as he filled Aster's groaning
mouth. The older man sucked at him fervently, swallowing down every last drop.
When he pulled away, he licked his lips slowly and looked over Jack, taking in
his disheveled form and chuckling. Jack was still panting heavily, his chest
heaving with each breath, and his eyes struggled to stay open, but when they
were, he focused them on Aster.
Aster ran his hands up and down Jack's thighs slowly, then leaned down and
kissed his lips, running his hands up to Jack's neck so he could remove the
collar. Jack tilted his head back a bit, letting him, and when it was off, Jack
whimpered lightly.
“Number?” Aster requested, and Jack began to shiver.
“S-six...” He whispered, and Aster's brow furrowed and he laid down beside
Jack, turning him on his side and pulling him against his chest.
“Must be a little subdrop,” He mentioned, kissing Jack's neck, “It's normal
after a session, it won't last long.”
“I d-don't like it...” Jack whimpered, and Aster kissed him a bit more.
“You don't like it?” Aster repeated, pulling him closer, “Well... It won't
happen all the time... not after you get used to some of this stuff... But if
you want to stop--”
Jack furrowed his brow and turned around in Aster's arms, looking up at him and
shaking his head, “Just... hold me tighter.”
Aster looked over his face for a second, then nodded and tightened his arms
around him, and he brought him into a light kiss before he whispered, “There...
like that?”
“Yeah.” Jack whispered back, still looking up at Aster with half-lidded eyes,
then he rolled around completely so his chest was against Aster's. He leaned up
to kiss Aster's chin, his hands flat on his shoulders, then he whispered to
him, “You're hard...”
“Of course I am,” Aster chuckled, bringing a hand up to brush through his hair,
“I just blew a gorgeous teen on my couch, didn't I?”
Jack stared at him silently for a bit, then his lips twitched up into a smirk
and he asked, “When did that happen?”
Aster scoffed and shook his head, and he pulled him into another kiss before he
whispered, “Don't you dare tell me you don't think you're gorgeous, young man.
Just looking at you makes me crave you.”
Jack bit his lip at that, his cheeks a bright red and his smile shy, then he
shook his head and hid his face against Aster's neck, huffing. He was
embarrassed, that much was obvious, and Aster loved the fact that he could make
him shy like this. He kissed the top of his head a few more times, then asked,
“Number?”
“Three.” Jack replied almost immediately, sounding confident, “Kiss me?”
Aster smiled, watching as Jack lifted his head from Aster's neck, his eyes
pleading. He rested his hand on the back of Jack's neck and pulled him in for a
kiss, sighing softly when he felt Jack's pliant lips beneath his own. They
parted when Aster slipped his tongue along them, and he moaned when Jack let in
his tongue so willingly. Jack made a light noise in the back of his throat,
sliding his tongue along Aster's, then pulling back to bite on his bottom lip.
“Aster...” Jack breathed, and the older man pulled away for a moment so he
could talk, but he kissed along his jaw instead, “I... wanna be yours. All the
time...”
“Mine?” Aster asked with a slight frown, “What do you mean?”
“I mean... I wanna be your bunny all the time. I want you to take care of me,
to own me...” Jack explained slowly, his eyes sparkling and his heart racing,
“I want you to... to punish me when I'm bad and praise me when I'm good a-and
fuck me every other night.”
Aster looked at him with wide eyes, pleasantly surprised, and he felt himself
smiling before he could stop himself. He brushed a hand through Jack's hair,
then asked, “Are you sure?” but the teen scoffed at him and smiled.
“Yes. I'm sure. So... will you?” He asked, his heart pounding in his ears and
his cheeks feeling warm. Aster sighed through his nose, looking over Jack, then
he grinned and nodded.
“But if you ever run away again, you better come back the night after, or else
I really will have to punish you.” Aster said lightly, and even though Jack
felt that familiar dread crawl through him, he knew Aster wouldn't dare lay a
finger on him if it would harm him.
 
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Summary
     has it been nearly a year and a half already?
      
     fuckin whoops
Aster sighed as he settled down in his seat, scooting closer to the computer in
front of him. He sipped at his coffee as it booted up, grunting at the taste.
Too much cream.
He nearly spat it all out when he heard a cheery voice chirp out his name from
above, and his head darted up to see his coworker leaning over the cubicle
wall, smiling brightly at him.
“Good morning, Aster!” Anna all but sang out, giving him a little wave with the
small hand of hers, “Just as tired as ever, I see!”
“And you're just as radiant,” Aster replied kindly, though he couldn't get
himself to smile sincerely at her. He was definitely not a morning person.
Still, his reply seemed kind enough for her, and she rested her arms across the
cubicle wall and continued to watch him. Aster's computer finally booted up,
and he typed in his login information quickly. The sooner he got to work, the
easier it would be to keep himself from falling back asleep, after all.
But with Anna still staring down at him, Aster felt his attention straying, and
he cast her a curious look. She only smiled at him then, but when he rose a
brow in a silent question, she rolled her eyes.
“I was just thinking how... refreshed you look. That vacation did you well,
huh?” She pointed out, and Aster's brow furrowed in confusion. He had called
out for a few days after he brought Jack back home, of course. He was afraid to
leave him alone for too long, and Jack seemed happy to have him there with him.
Though taking the time off was more for Aster's state of mind, since Jack
didn't seem to mind waiting at home for Aster to get off work, if that first
day back was anything to go by. Still, he didn't think he would look more
'refreshed' because of it.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Aster huffed, looking back down at
his computer even when Anna scoffed at him.
“Oh, don't be like that, Aster!” She huffed, dropping down from the cubicle
wall and walking around it instead, so that she could talk face-to-face with
him. She leaned against his desk and crossed her thin arms. She was wearing
that cute pencil skirt Aster liked, with multiple colours streaking down its
shape like a humming bird. He thought it fit her well. He fozrced himself to
look up at her face when he realized she was pouting at him, and he shook his
head to dismiss her.
“I'm serious! I didn't take a vacation, I told you guys I got sick.” Aster
lied. He didn't want to tell anyone about Jack, at least not yet. He knew Anna
of all people would insist to meet him, especially if Aster let slip that they
were dating. He didn't think Jack would like the visitors, and would much
rather talk to him about it instead of springing a surprise meeting on the
teen. “Maybe it was all the chicken soup.”
“Don't lie to me, Aster! You forget how well I know you.” Anna scolded,
swatting at Aster's shoulder and leering at him, and finally Aster was able to
offer her a small smile. He took his coffee and sipped at it again, ignoring
her for a while, and when he was done, he merely leaned back in his seat and
shrugged his shoulders.
“Don't know what you expect me to say, Anna. I'm sticking to my story.” He said
slyly, and he rested his elbows on the armrests of his chair. Anna peered at
him for a bit longer, her eyes narrowed, until all of a sudden she gasped and
clutched at his arm, realization spreading over her face.
“I know that look!” She shouted, a bright smile stretching across her face, “I
know that look!”
“Be quiet! There are other people here, you know!” Aster hissed, annoyed that
Anna could be so loud this early in the morning, “Now what are you talking
about? You're really starting to lose me.”
“That look!” Anna said, her voice softer now, “I know it! That's the look you
have whenever you get a new pet!”
With his kink now brought into the conversation, Aster's eyes bulged wide and
he sat up quickly, flailing at Anna to shut her up, though she only laughed
when he clapped his hands down on her mouth. He was blushing a bright red, and
to point it out, Anna poked at his cheeks, still laughing.
“You can't say things like that!” Aster whispered urgently, poking his head out
of his cubicle to make sure no one was nearby who could hear them, “Seriously,
Anna, you're going to get me fired!”
“Oh calm down, I only said you got a pet!” Anna huffed through his fingers, and
she tugged at his wrists a little until he let go of her, “As far as they're
concerned, I'm being very literal.”
Still, Aster looked uncomfortable about it, so Anna pressed her lips into a
line and murmured a feeble apology.
“But you better tell me about them.” She added, grinning coyly when Aster
blanched. When he didn't start to speak, Anna decided to ask questions instead,
and she began with, “What are they like? When did you get them?”
“A while ago,” Aster conceded, sitting back down in his seat and crossing his
arms, though he spoke in a much softer tone than before. Even if the pretended
like they were talking about an actual pet, Aster felt nervous. He didn't want
his kink to be found out, after all. Especially not by the people he worked
with. Still, Anna was his exception, so he continued with a soft, “He's really
shy. It took a long while for him to warm up to even me, but it was worth it.”
“Is he why you went out for a few days?” Anna asked next, genuinely interested.
Aster nodded in response, and her interest turned to worry, “What happened? Did
he get hurt?”
“It's sort of hard to explain...” Aster sighed, rubbing at his temple tiredly,
then groping for his coffee and slurping down the rest of it, hoping the casual
conversation would prove to be a smooth transition from wanting to go back to
sleep to adequately alert, “He... ran away for a while. Nearly a month, at
least. I got a call from the police station one night telling me he was there.”
“The police station?” Anna repeated, even more surprised, and she put a hand on
Aster's shoulder and asked in a stern voice, “You didn't.... do anything to
him, did you?”
“What? No! No, he just...” Aster sighed and rubbed at his eyes, still so tired,
“He's had bad relationships in the past and he got scared. He told me he didn't
want to wait around until I hurt him so he ran, but... when I went to pick him
up from the station he was holding onto me so tightly, Anna. I don't know what
happened during the time he was gone, but he didn't look like he wanted to
leave again after that. So for the last few nights I stayed with him at home to
try and make sure he was comfortable again.”
“But he's your pet now?” Anna asked, looking confused, “Aster... Are you sure
that kind of thing is good for him? I mean, if he got scared because of how you
were treating him--”
“It's not like that,” Aster interrupted her, shaking his head, “If you met him,
you'd understand. But he asked to be mine. He wanted it just as much—maybe even
more—than I did. I made sure to explain it all to him, okay? I promise.”
Anna sighed at that, still looking uncertain, but she didn't push it any more.
She did trust Aster. She knew he was a good dom. But she also knew that
sometimes he could get a little blinded by what he wanted. Still, she reminded
herself that he was older now, and a lot more self-aware than before. She would
just have to take his word for it.
But the conversation was far from over, and with a new smile, she asked, “So
when can I meet him?”
“Never.” Aster blurted immediately, his brow furrowing, “You'll scare him off
in a heartbeat.”
“Oh, don't be like that!” She laughed, swatting at his shoulder again, “Come
on, you can't keep him all to yourself. Even if he is shy, he has to be able to
socialize a little, right? Besides, just because you have a new pet doesn't
mean we're not doing our monthly get together, right? I was going to bring pie
this time!”
“Look, it might not be the best idea, Anna,” Aster tried to explain, looking
away from her, “He's really timid.... I don't think he'll be comfortable with
people over.”
Anna pouted at that, then rolled her eyes and said, “Okay, how about this: I'll
come over today after work, and I'll meet the guy. If at any time he says he's
uncomfortable or he wants me to go, I'll go. Less stress on him, and I get to
meet him. Sound fair?”
Aster regarded the plan for a moment, still not entirely sure if it would be
such a good idea, but he knew Anna wouldn't back down until she got to meet
him. She probably wanted to make sure he was okay, too, and Aster respected
that. So, he gave in, and he nodded to her and said, “Fine, you can come, but
let me call him and tell him, okay? I don't want to surprise him with you.”
Anna just shrugged at that, then she pushed herself off of Aster's desk and
said, “Sure, make sure he's dressed proper, too, hmm?” and she grinned at him,
knowing Aster preferred having his pets in the nude. He squinted at her, then
huffed and shook his head as she walked away before leaning forward to pick up
the phone.
The phone began to ring back at Aster's apartment, waking up Jack from his
sleep. He grumbled as he rolled over in bed, not happy about being woken up a
second time that morning, but when he realized it was the phone and not the
alarm, he got curious. Getting up from the bed, Jack went over to the phone
resting in the living room. He picked it up and peered down at it, not sure if
he should answer it. The screen on the phone said some sort of business was
calling, so Jack figured it might be important.
Hitting the green button, Jack held the phone carefully against his ear, but
didn't say anything. A few moments of silence stretched between them, before he
heard Aster ask, “Jack?”
“Ah,” Jack replied, relaxing at the familiar voice, and he sat down on the
couch, his blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, “Yes?”
“Did I wake you?” Aster asked first, a smile audible in his voice, and Jack
gave out a light yawn to answer.
“Yes,” He replied, leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes, already
feeling as if he could fall back asleep, but Aster's voice kept him from doing
so.
“I have something I need to ask you, Jack,” Aster began, and Jack hummed
curiously for him to continue, “A friend from work wants to come over and meet
you. Do you think you'd like that?”
Jack thought about it for a little, frowning at the idea. If it was a friend of
Aster's, then they had to be a good person, right? But still, Jack was wary
about new people. He was still wary around Aster sometimes, and he wasn't sure
how up to it he would be. He made an uncertain noise, chewing on his bottom
lip.
“How about this,” Aster said, speaking patiently, “She'll come over today after
work, and if you don't want her to stay, she won't. She'll leave whenever you
want her to, just say the word, okay?”
Jack made another uncertain noise, but the arrangement honestly didn't sound
too bad. In fact, Jack was sure it would be the best thing they could come up
with in this kind of situation, so with a reluctant sigh, he murmured, “Yes...”
“Good boy,” Aster whispered into the phone, a small smile coming to his lips,
“And no matter what, I promise I'll give you something nice for tonight, okay?”
Jack perked up at that offer, and he smiled a little to himself before saying
again, “Yes.”
Aster chuckled softly, then said, “We'll get there around two. Make sure you're
dressed, okay? I have to go now.”
“Bye.” Jack replied softly, his mind already racing with the things Aster might
give him tonight. Jack briefly touched his collar, still resting snug against
his neck as it had been ever since he got back. He wondered if he could talk
Aster into buying him a different one, maybe a prettier one, but for now, he'll
just wait and see what Aster had in mind.
He put the phone down and got up, hurrying back to the bed so he could lay down
in Aster's scent. He pressed his nose to the pillows, breathing in deep and
smiling. He was worried about the person he would bring, but he knew Aster had
Jack's needs in mind.
When it drew close to two o'clock, Jack decided to take a quick
shower—something that was rather difficult, since he hadn't really worked the
shower before—and get dressed in his normal clothes. He considered leaving the
collar on, since it really did make him feel a lot better, but didn't think
Aster would want his friend to see it. Aster didn't really seem like the kind
of guy to talk about his kind of sex with his friends, anyways...
But with the collar off, Jack felt like he was shooting off in ten different
places. He felt shaky and lost, like he didn't know what to do without it. He
especially felt this way when he thought about the fact that a complete
stranger was coming over to meet him. He wanted to keep the collar on for
stability's sake, but... if Aster got embarrassed or mad, Jack would definitely
not know what to do.
With a deep sigh, Jack removed the collar, setting it inside one of the drawers
to hide it. He was already fidgeting once he closed the drawer, but he tried to
put his mind at ease by watching television. It helped for a while, but his
anxiety shot up when he heard the door begin to unlock.
Turning off the television, Jack got to his feet and started picking at his
thumbnail, his eyes trained on the door as the knob jiggled. When it finally
popped open, Jack sucked in a breath. He spotted Aster first, which seemed to
ground him just as well as the collar did. His heart rate calmed and the beads
of sweat lining his forehead seemed to cool as well. When the man looked at
him, he smiled, and immediately set down his bag and went to him, pulling him
into a comforting hug.
“How are you?” Aster asked softly, looking down into Jack's eyes.
“I'm....” Jack began, but couldn't figure out how to finish his sentence
properly. He still didn't have the right words for the emotions he felt, so
instead he went with a number, “Six.”
Aster nodded knowingly, reaching up to stroke Jack's cheek, then he said, “Well
you don't have to worry, okay? She can be a bit excitable but she's very nice.”
“Please, Aster, it sounds like you're describing a dog!” She scoffed, walking
into the apartment and getting Jack's attention. Jack's eyes widened at the
sight of her. She was a thin, small woman with a pixie cut hairstyle. Her brown
hair curled against her cheeks, shifting as she walked towards them. She smiled
at Jack and held out her hand, introducing herself in a soft voice, “Hello, my
name is Anna.”
Jack continued to stare at her, his eyes wide and his voice lost. She looked
like a kind young woman, a beautiful one, too, but Jack's nerves still reacted.
He glanced down at her hand, then up at Aster, as if looking for approval.
Aster merely settled his hand on Jack's back, waiting to see what the teen
would do. Anna rose a curious brow, wondering if she should just retract her
hand, but then Jack began to lift his own to meet hers.
Taking her small hand in his own, he gave it a feeble shake, and the way she
beamed at him made him avert his gaze.
“She wants to stay for dinner, is that okay?” Aster asked Jack next, rubbing
his hand up and down the teen's back to keep him calm. Jack's eyes darted up to
the man, then back down at Anna before he pressed his lips into a hard line.
When he didn't speak, Aster let out a low sigh, and he said instead, “How about
I make some coffee?”
“Coffee sounds nice,” Anna agreed, looking up at Aster instead of Jack, “Would
you like me to help?”
“No, Jack can help me. Why don't you make yourself comfortable on the couch?”
Aster said quickly, and Jack was relieved to have an escape. He followed Aster
into the kitchen, aiming straight for the cabinet where Aster kept the coffee
beans, but the taller man stopped him. He set his hand on the cabinet, keeping
Jack from opening it, and as he leaned over the shorter teen, he asked in a
soft voice, “Jack... are you okay?”
The teen thought about the question for a moment, his hand still on the cabinet
knob, then he turned slightly to look up at Aster. The man looked concerned,
but he had another emotion beneath it, something that wasn't Jack's nameless
emotion that he liked seeing. It was something that looked closer to sadness,
maybe. Jack didn't like seeing it on Aster's face.
Turning a bit more so his chest was facing Aster's, Jack put a nervous hand on
Aster's arm and rubbed lightly. He opened his mouth to say something to him, to
try and sooth his worries, but all he seemed capable of doing was letting out a
sharp breath. He was more nervous than he thought he was. Swallowing thickly,
Jack closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to hum a low note first,
just to get his vocal chords working.
“Just... gimme... time.” Jack breathed every word, his eyes still shut. His
throat clamped with every noise he made, as if trying to cut off his words in
the middle, but he still forced them out, adding shakily, “Need to get... used
to others.”
“Alright,” Aster replied softly, still watching Jack's face closely, as if
trying to see if he was hiding anything. When he determined Jack was being
honest, he slowly opened the cabinet door, pulling out the coffee beans. Jack
peeked his eyes open, looking up at Aster, then the beans, then he blushed and
moved to step out of Aster's way. The man stopped him from going too far by
putting a hand on his hip, and when Jack looked at him in confusion, Aster
merely leaned down and gave him a soft kiss. Jack's eyes slipped shut at the
kiss, his shoulders slumping as he relaxed. He tilted his head and kissed Aster
back, putting his hands on the taller man's chest. When they pulled away, Jack
felt lightheaded, but relaxed, and he smiled to himself as Aster pulled away
from him completely, setting up the coffee. Jack watched him for a little,
still leaning against the counter, and when the coffee began to brew, Jack
pushed himself away and gathered three mugs.
“I thought you didn't like coffee?” Aster mentioned lightly, remembering how
Jack refused it multiple times before. Jack glanced at Aster, then down at the
mugs before reaching into the cabinets and pulling out an instant hot cocoa
packet. Aster watched him dump the cocoa mix into a cup, then grab the milk and
fill it up the rest of the way. Aster chuckled lightly when Jack held up the
cup to him, and he took it and put it in the microwave, heating it up for him.
When it was ready, the coffee was as well, and Aster began pouring himself and
Anna drinks while Jack stirred his hot cocoa. Aster prepared the coffee
skillfully, adding cream and sugar in his own, then only sugar in Anna's. Jack
eyed him as he did it.
When the drinks were done, Aster carried them back out with Jack following
behind him, his cup of cocoa in his hands. Anna was settled near the edge of
the couch, so Aster sat in the middle and Jack on the other edge. While Aster
handed Anna her coffee, Jack brought his knees up to his chest, tucking himself
as close to the corner as he could, and he sipped his cocoa as he watched them.
“If I didn't put enough sugar, I can go get some from the kitchen,” Aster
mentioned casually as Anna took the mug, and she smiled at him.
“It's okay, it should be fine.” She replied, swirling the coffee in her mug for
a moment before she sipped it, letting out a light hum before leaning back
where she sat, nodding. Her eyes drifted to Jack, then, who quickly looked down
into his cocoa, and she tried to offer him a smile.
“So,” She began, tapping her fingers against her mug as she tried to break the
ice between them, “Jack, how did you and Aster meet?”
Jack glanced up at her when she asked, then immediately turned to Aster,
expecting the man to answer for him. When Aster looked at him with slightly
worried eyes, Jack knew their initial 'meeting' was something Aster didn't
exactly want her to know about. Jack understood, at least. Saying they met in
the bathroom stalls wasn't exactly romantic.
Jack took a few slow breaths, then opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was
weak and embarrassingly quiet. Still, he managed to mumble out, “I was lost
and... he took me home.”
He glanced back up at Aster, who looked somewhat relieved with that answer, and
he sipped his coffee to try and hide it. Jack bit down a smile behind his own
cup.
“Lost?” Anna asked, her brows raising in concern, “What happened? Did your car
break down somewhere?”
“No...” Jack answered quickly for him, his brow furrowing, “I was... just
lost.”
Now Anna looked confused, and she looked at Aster for a moment before asking,
“Did Aster take you here or to your home?”
“I don't have a home.” Jack answered instead, lowering his cup and raising his
voice a little, so Anna didn't have to strain to hear him, “So I came here.”
“Don't have a home?” Anna asked, and now Aster looked curious. He hadn't really
asked Jack before, he figured he had been homeless, but he wouldn't miss the
chance to hear Jack's story. Jack glanced between them, suddenly feeling
stressed, and he brought his cocoa back to his lips as if that could shield him
from them. Still, he tried to explain.
“I... was under someone's care, but... I ran away.” He mumbled, his voice
getting weaker once again. Anna blinked at his explanation, then got up and
shoved Aster to where she had just been sitting, taking his seat in the middle
so she could speak more directly to Jack. Aster clutched to his coffee almost
desperately, trying not to spill it on his couch, and he glared briefly at Anna
before looking back to Jack, who had backed up even further.
“Hey, give him some space--” Aster tried saying, putting a hand on Anna's arm,
but she tugged it away and merely smiled at Jack, as if she didn't meant to
make him uncomfortable. Jack swallowed thickly, his eyes flickering to Aster in
a panic.
“Jack,” Anna spoke softly, putting her coffee down on the coffee table and
settling her hands on her lap instead, never taking her eyes off of the teen,
“Is there a reason you ran away?”
Jack looked back at her, his brows furrowing for a moment, then nodded. Anna
kept her face neutral, giving away no emotion other than gentle concern, “Will
you tell me?”
Jack blinked at her. The way she talked to him was exactly how the social
workers and police did back when he had been a victim, however many years it
had been. The gentle, fake kind of concern that undertoned their flowery
language. The same kind of tone Pitch took on whenever he 'examined' Jack in
front of others. The conning kind of language that was meant to drag out
information from him, not help him. She wanted something to benefit herself,
not him or Aster, that's what Jack believed merely from the tone of her voice.
And so he did what he had done in the past that had worked for him. His eyes
dropped to his cocoa, his head lowering, and he clamped his mouth shut tight.
When he didn't respond for nearly a minute, Anna pressed with a soft spoken,
“Jack?” and moved to touch his shoulder. Just when her fingers brushed him,
though, he sucked in a sharp breath and stood up, knocking her hand away from
him. His hands trembled as he set his cocoa down on the table, and he walked
quickly towards the bedroom.
Aster got up just as Jack left the room, about to call out after him, but the
door shut and locked before he could get a word out. Immediately, he felt
guilty about the entire situation. Frowning, he turned to look at Anna, who
looked genuinely surprised by the reaction she got.
“I told you to give him space,” Aster huffed in a low voice, not wanting Jack
to hear them and think he caused an issue, “I told you he was shy.”
“Aster, that's not shy, that's something that needs to be helped.” Anna argued,
getting up as well so Aster wouldn't talk down to her. Placing her hands on her
hips, she asked, “Did you learn nothing after years working with me? He needs a
psychologist.”
“He's fine.” Aster said sternly, not noticing the bedroom door opening a crack,
“He told me he doesn't need one and I trust him. Besides, I know how to handle
people with this kind of personality!”
“You're not licensed to make that kind of decision!” Anna argued quickly,
jabbing a finger at Aster's chest, also not noticing how the door pushed open a
bit more so Jack could watch them, “You're biased, Aster! He's suffering and
you can't see it! If he has social anxiety this badthen he needs to seek help
right away!”
Aster opened his mouth to argue more, but Anna cut in before he could get a
word in, saying in a sharp tone, “And your kink is not 'handling' him. If
anything, it's making him worse.”
“I told you, he wanted to do it! I didn't force him--” Aster tried defending
himself, though his face was lined with embarrassment and guilt.
“It doesn't matter what he asked of you, Aster!” Anna interrupted once more,
raising her voice and making Jack flinch, closing the door a bit more, but
still keeping it cracked open so he could watch, “You have to be the one to
make the decision of what is and isn't good for him! It's literally what you do
for a living!”
“But he's happy, Anna!” Aster tried to say, but she still didn't buy it.
“At what cost?”
They fell into a tense silence, then, staring each other down. Jack breathed
lightly as he watched, seeing the shame on Aster's face and the contained rage
and disappointment on Anna's. A few more moments passed before Anna finally
backed down, taking a few steps away from Aster, and heading for the bedroom
door. Jack gasped and pulled it shut again, locking it.
First, Anna tried knocking, her knuckles rapping lightly against the wood, and
her voice came after, lilting out a gentle, “Jack, will you let me talk to
you?”
Jack didn't respond, but he stayed sitting beside the door. He even covered his
mouth to muffle his breaths, as if he were hiding from a monster, not a person.
He heard Anna sigh on the other side, then another light knock.
“Jack?” She asked, her voice moving, as if she were kneeling down on the other
side, “You don't have to say anything. Just tap on the door as an answer. One
for yes, two for no. Can you hear me?”
Jack hesitated, but decided to play along. He hoped if he did, she would leave
sooner. After all, she didn't seem like the kind of person to just give up.
Reaching out his hand, Jack tapped once on the door, getting a relieved breath
from the woman.
“Good. Okay, Jack, I'd like to tell you I work for the Social Services
Agency... do you know what that is?” She asked, and Jack glared at the door
before he knocked particularly hard on the door, as if insulted. He heard her
clear her throat, then continue to say, “I'd like to help you. You said you ran
away from your caretaker, so they must be looking for you, right?”
Jack pressed his lips together, then timidly tapped once on the door.
“And are you hiding from them?” Anna asked next, her brows furrowing.
Tap.
“Did they hurt you?”
Tap.
“Jack... if you come out and tell us about it, Aster and I can help you. We can
make sure they go to jail for abusing you, and we can find a safe place for you
to go. Maybe even a family member.” She tried to reach out to him, putting her
hand on the door and hoping he would come out. Jack regarded her words for a
time, feeling somewhat irritated. He ran his fingers through his hair, wanting
to scream, but his voice was completely gone. Instead, he sat there and
trembled, recalling similar promises made to him at the beginning, which only
lead him to who he had just recently escaped from. No matter what, he would
only fall into the hands of someone worse.
Until he found Aster, that is...
Jack recalled the look of shame and guilt on Aster's face, and how Anna's
conversation with him had caused it. How Jack had caused it. He didn't want the
man thinking it was his fault at all that Jack was like this, or that he had
forced Jack to decide to be his pet. He didn't want Aster to send him away,
thinking it was for the best.
Getting up, Jack began unlocking the door. He heard Anna gasp and scramble out
of the way just as he swung it open. Anna stood to meet him, but Jack walked
straight past her and went for Aster instead, who had sat down on the couch and
had been holding his head in his hands. His head had propped up when he heard
Jack walking to him, and without warning, Jack shoved Aster back against the
couch and straddled him. He wrapped his arms around Aster's torso, tucked his
face against his neck, then whispered out a hoarse, “Ten.”
Aster took a moment to take it all in, his arms slowly relaxing around Jack's
body, and when he seemed to understand what the teen meant, he wrapped his arms
tighter around him, then looked at Anna.
“Leave.” He commanded, unable to get up and show her the door with Jack on his
lap. Anna was taken aback, and her mouth flopped uselessly as she tried to
argue.
“Aster, I--” She attempted, but Aster merely pointed at the door.
“You've done more than enough, Anna. I told you, if Jack got uncomfortable, you
would have to go. Now go.” He ordered, his voice stern and level, and his hand
running up and down Jack's shaking back. Anna stared at them for a bit longer,
then sucked in a sharp breath and turned on her heel, stomping out of the
apartment and slamming the door shut behind her.
When she was gone, and the two of them knew she wouldn't try coming back, Jack
slowly leaned back. He still held onto Aster, and Aster still held him, but
Jack wanted to look at his face, and the expression Aster gave him didn't
disappoint. His eyes were shimmering with concern and that look he loved, and
even though the remnants of guilt and anger were obvious with the tense
grinding of his jaw, Jack felt safe. The teen brought a hand up to Aster's
cheek, trying to massage away the tension, and when that didn't work as quickly
as he liked, he leaned in and kissed him instead, trying to soothe him.
“Talk to me, Jack,” Aster requested when they broke away, and Jack rested his
forehead against Aster's, “Give me a number.”
“Eight.” Jack conceded, able to speak easier now that Anna was gone. As if to
make up for his previous mutism, Jack blurted out, “Please don't leave me with
someone else. I'm safe here with you.”
Aster's brows rose at the sudden outburst, but he held him closer and continued
to rub his back, saying in a soft voice, “Don't worry, Jack, I'm not going to
abandon you. What kind of boyfriend would that make me?”
Jack let out a slow breath, relieved, and he closed his eyes and leaned into
him, kissing him a few more times before he laid his head against Aster's
shoulder. Aster only continued to massage him, letting Jack control what they
did and who touched who, but after a time of silence, Aster knew he had to say
something.
“But I think Anna might be right...” He admitted, getting Jack to tighten his
grip on Aster, “I don't think pet play is going to give you what you need right
now, Jack... It might be making you worse.”
“'M fine...” Jack murmured, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to focus on the
calm that came from being held by Aster.
“Please don't lie to me...” Aster whispered, and Jack let out a slow breath,
his hands beginning to tremble again. Jack bit down on his lip, wanting to tell
Aster that he was absolutely fine, but he couldn't seem to get the words out.
“Aster, I...” He gasped, struggling to say what he wanted, and when he took
another deep breath, on his exhale he blurted out, “I'm scared. I don't want
help. It doesn't work. It makes me worse. It hurts. You... you help. This
helps.”
The man fell quiet at Jack's words, mulling them over in his mind, and when he
didn't respond for a while, Jack looked up at him, pressing his hands against
his cheeks to get his attention. When their eyes met, Aster seemed to decide on
something. Scooping Jack up with his arms, he lifted the teen and carried him
into the bedroom, getting a surprised gasp from him, though he didn't look
unhappy about it.
When he was laid on the bed, Jack quickly scooted back, allowing Aster to climb
on and bend over him, looking down at his face with a determined expression.
Jack laid back against the sheets, his eyes glued to Aster's and his chest
heaving lightly. He squirmed a little beneath the man, wondering what Aster was
planning, and if he was going to give him his 'treat' that he promised him.
“Let's make a deal.” Aster said softly, and Jack's attention perked, “Let me
set up an appointment with our on-duty psychologist at work and we'll continue
with the pet play.”
He could see Jack grimace at the offer, and his eyes dropped down as he thought
about it. Trying to soothe his worries, Aster leaned in and pressing light
kisses against Jack's forehead, his eyelids, and his nose, until the teen was
smiling beneath him once more.
“Will you go with me?” Jack asked, bringing his hands up to cradle Aster's
face, temporarily holding off the kisses until he got an answer. Aster nodded
at him, but added,
“But if the psychologist tells me to leave, I won't be able to stay in the same
room as you. But I promise you, I'll be right outside, okay? I won't leave
you.”
Considering it for a bit longer, Jack let out a worried sigh, then mumbled
uncertainly, “Okay... I guess I'll do it.” and Aster let out a breath of
relief. Smiling shyly, Jack asked in a soft voice, “But only if you... touch me
tonight?”
Aster's eyes darted up to meet Jack's, glittering mischievously, and with a sly
smirk, he leaned in and gave him a long kiss on the lips, letting one of his
hands run down the side of Jack's body, “Of course... I promised you a treat,
didn't I? Collar or no collar?”
Jack couldn't keep himself from grinning, and he quickly squirmed out of
Aster's grip, going to the dresser and grabbing the collar from where he hid
it. Walking back to the bed, Jack hesitated in putting it on for a moment
before he asked Aster, “Will you buy me another collar?”
“Hm? What's wrong with that one?” Aster asked, raising a brow and sitting up on
his knees so Jack would have an easier time getting beneath him again, which he
began to do, the collar still in his hand.
“Nothing, just...” Jack shrugged as he laid back, sliding his legs around
Aster's hips and letting the man lean over him again, “I kinda... want
something prettier.”
“Oh?” Aster smiled, “I guess I can look into something nicer if you're a good
boy for me. Maybe I'll let you pick one out?”
Jack brightened up at the prospect of getting a new collar, and with that small
issue fixed, he slipped on the leather around his throat and tightened it,
letting out a soft sigh as he got comfortable in the bed.
“Now, kitten, show me you want your treat.” Aster whispered, and Jack bit down
on his bottom lip and let out a soft whimper, giving Aster the best set of
pleading eyes he could muster.

------------
 
It felt odd being in Aster's car while they drove, especially when Jack knew
just where they were headed. It was a wonder he wasn't having a full-blown
panic attack in the passenger's seat at the idea of seeing yet another
psychiatrist, but he figured the collar he was wearing underneath the thick,
pale baby blue scarf Aster bought for him had something to do with it. Still,
even with his safety-net keeping him steady, he found his hands trembling on
occasion, or his feet tap against the car mat. Those ticks were washed away by
Aster himself, who would reach a hand out and brush it against Jack's thigh or
arm whenever he noticed. The fleeting caresses always made Jack feel better for
a few moments.
Upon arriving at the building, however, Jack was suddenly jarred by the fact
that he was practically dating a social worker. It felt like he had been spat
back a few years in time, and he was reduced back to that trembling little
victim of a boy he had been then. Well, he wasn't really any better as he was
right now. He stood at the glass doors to the building for a long while,
staring at them almost angrily while Aster held one open and waited for him. He
could see the receptionist just a ways into the building, eyeing them curiously
from over his desk. His lips pursed when Jack mistakenly leered at him, and the
expression kicked the teen back into motion.
He stepped through the doors of the building, feeling as if he should be
surrounded by cops and covered with an orange blanket while clutching a
steaming tea, but he shook his head to get rid of the emotions. On instinct,
his hand darted up to his neck, making sure the collar was still there beneath
the scarf. When he felt the familiar slide of leather on his skin, he allowed
himself a breath to relax. Aster's hand descending on his shoulder helped
pushed the air out of him, and his heart was regaining a normal tempo once
more. Jack looked up at the taller man, his eyes sparkling in gratitude, and
Aster merely smiled back down at him and squeezed his shoulder.
With his hand guiding him, Jack let Aster lead him to the receptionist, who
greeted Aster warmly enough only to give Jack the cold shoulder.
“I didn't know it was 'bring a relative to work' day.” The receptionist said
with a small smile, batting his eyelashes at Aster so blatantly that it made
Jack want to roll his eyes... and lean in and watch him at the same time. Jack
knew nothing about flirting, or at least nothing more than knocking on a
bathroom stall door and letting his jaw hang open in front of a hole. Probably
got him a lot more than fluttering eyelids and arched backs.
Jack grimaced at his own train of thought.
“It's not. He has an appointment with Sanderson and I thought I would accompany
him.” Aster explained, putting his hand on the small of Jack's back.
Unfortunately, the gesture was hidden by the receptionist's desk, who didn't
see a damn thing.
“A patient, then? I should have known. You don't talk about family at all, I'm
starting to doubt you have any.” The receptionist teased, and Aster gave him a
dry smile just to appease him. Jack shifted on his feet uncomfortably. Did he?
He figured Aster must... but even with the time he had spent in Aster's care,
he never saw or heard of any relatives. The receptionist, oblivious to their
moods, continued to ramble as he wrote something down on a slip, “Well, have
fun with Sanderson. He just recently got an apprentice of sorts, cute little
thing, but I've heard mention of the kid taking on a few cases himself. If you
want Sanderson specifically, you should speak with him first.”
With that, he ripped the paper from the pad and held it out to Aster, who took
it with a brief, “Thanks,” before he placed his hand back on Jack's shoulder
and gently guided him towards the elevator. Once inside, Aster let out a breath
and slumped back against the wall of the elevator. Jack smiled quietly in
amusement, and he stepped a bit closer to him.
“Speaking to that man is exhausting sometimes,” Aster mumbled, but he
brightened when Jack laughed in pity. He wrapped his arm around Jack's waist,
pulling him even closer, and he went to kiss him. Jack sighed and tilted his
head back, closing his eyes and waiting for Aster's lips to descend upon his,
but the elevator doors began to slide open, and they pulled away before they
could get caught.
But that didn't seem to matter much in the first place, since the person they
came face-to-face with was a thin, pixie-haired woman with a cup of coffee in
one hand and a stack of files in the other. She and Aster made immediate eye
contact, and then those bright green eyes were on Jack, calculating.
“Hey, Anna,” Aster greeted belatedly, discreetly moving Jack around himself so
he was squished between the wall and Aster's side, leaving Anna only space to
stand at Aster's other side, “What floor?”
“Eighteen...” Anna answered slowly as she stepped inside, her eyes constantly
sticking to Jack as if glued, and the teen shifted uncomfortably under her
gaze. He wanted to press tighter against Aster's side and maybe even disappear
in him, but he was stuck enduring her burning stare. Maybe she was mad at him
for getting Aster to kick her out the day before last. He didn't want to
confirm it.
They stood in the elevator quietly until they reached Anna's floor, and Jack
noticed that whenever her eyes weren't on him, they were on the elevator
buttons, and more specifically, the floor they were getting off on. The
elevator dinged as they arrived to the eighteenth floor, but Anna didn't make a
move to step off. Instead, she looked up at Aster, her eyes shining with a
weird kind of pride Jack didn't understand. Aster shuffled where he stood,
blushing a little, and he cast his eyes down for a moment before he bumped the
back of his hand against Jack's. With an approving little huff, Anna turned and
stepped out of the elevator, her hips swaying and her head held high, bursting
with this bright new emotion.
When the doors slid shut once more, Jack looked up at Aster, a lost expression
on his face. Aster smiled down at him, and he brought a hand up to the back of
his neck, playing with the hair there. He didn't try to explain, and that was
fine. Jack would probably only become more confused if he had attempted it.
They finally reached their floor, and when the doors slid open, Jack
immediately stepped backwards. The halls were a lot different than the ones
they saw Anna on. These ones were decorated in that doctor office way. These
halls were meant for patients or victims like Jack. These were the kind of
halls he was all too used to. Already, Jack could see Pitch turning the corner,
standing in the opening of the elevator. In his mind's eye, Jack saw Pitch
leering over him, sharp eyes squinting and nails digging into walls behind
Jack's head. His heart began to race hard, and the imaginary Pitch opened his
mouth to speak, so Jack slapped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes
shut. He expected almost anything, a slew of insults, a promise to become
Jack's legal guardian, a curse at him for putting his job on the line again and
again and again.
But what he was met with instead was a bright, concerned, and comforting voice
asking, “Are you okay, Mister? Are you afraid of elevators, too? Let me tell
you, it's the most inconvenient yet rewarding fear there is.”
Visions of Pitch were slowly fading. Jack half expected to see Aster leaning
over him instead, but when he looked ahead of him, he saw Aster standing in the
way of the elevator doors, and this tiny mousy looking teenager smiling up at
him. He looked younger than Jack was! What was he doing in a place like this?
Jack looked up to Aster for some sort of answer, but all he got was a small
smile, as if Aster knew the kid and knew what he was doing.
Suddenly, a hand was being offered to him, and Jack looked back down at the kid
who had single-handedly snapped him out of his hallucination. When Jack merely
stared at the offered limb, the kid smiled even brighter and said, “Not a fan
of hand-holding? That's fine. I just thought you might need help stepping out
of the elevator. Your legs looked like jelly a moment ago.”
Jack looked at the kid again, blinking hard a few times to see if he was really
there or not. And damn was the kid smart, cause he caught on to the small
action and immediately turned to Aster, pinching him in the arm and making the
man flinch and yelp, rubbing at the sore spot with a frown.
“What was that for?” Aster asked, but the kid didn't give him an answer, and he
merely returned to the position he was in before, hand extended, palm open
upwards. Jack swallowed thickly. This kid had to be one of them. There was no
way he would know all of this stuff unless he was, after all. Well, there would
really be no other reason for him to be there...
But he was so different from what Jack remembered. He remembered hands on his
shoulders and arms, pushing him from room to room. Invasive questions and
judgmental stares. So much stress flooding the air, making his throat clench up
even tighter. And the cops, so many cops...
Suddenly, Jack's hand was sliding into the kid's, gripping his palm tightly,
despite the clamminess of his own skin. He wasn't sure if he should pull away
and try to wipe it clean, but the kid didn't seem to mind, and he took slow
steps backwards, gently leading Jack out of the elevator and into the hall.
Once outside, Aster let the doors slide shut, and the elevator was descending
back to pick up its next round of riders.
“Come on, why don't we go sit down in my office?” The kid suggested happily,
leading Jack and Aster down the hall and into one of the psychiatrist offices.
The name on the door read Sanderson, but Jack didn't think the kid looked like
a Sanderson. He barely had the energy to muster up the question, though, so he
was left to wonder, even as the kid sat him down on the long couch. He had
prompted him at first to lay down, but Jack refused, knowing he would just feel
uncomfortable. The kid didn't push him, either, and that only made Jack feel
better.
Aster sat down beside Jack on the couch, putting one of his giant hands on
Jack's back and rubbing. The kid ran around the office, playing with the Keurig
coffee maker. He turned to offer Jack and Aster a drink, but the both of them
refused. Jack leaned into Aster as he was comforted, closing his eyes and
resting his cheek on the man's shoulder. Aster sneaked his hand up Jack's back
and to the collar, letting his fingers dip underneath the material of the scarf
so he could rub the leather. Jack sucked in a long, deep breath, and let it out
with a smile.
No matter what Anna or anyone else thought, knowing that Jack could completely
rely on someone else to the point of giving up even his own autonomy was oddly
comforting. He tilted his head back a bit, looking up into Aster's eyes. The
both of them didn't speak, but they understood each other. Jack was happy Aster
was there with him and Aster was relieved Jack was comfortable so far.
The door to the office swung open, letting in a fourth member to the little
gathering they had. A short, rotund man with bright pale skin and hair as
yellow as corn came stepping in, but when he saw how crowded his office had
become, he paused in the doorway, eyes wide and curious. The man looked over at
the brunet kid, who immediately held out a cup of coffee for him, and he began
moving his hands about, catching Jack's eye.
The kid smiled and explained, “Aster and his friend were in the elevator. I
thought I should bring the both of them here so that Aster's friend could get
comfortable.”
“I can do introductions, if you'd like.” Aster offered, catching the short
man's attention. The man quickly bobbed his head, a friendly smile squishing
his face together, and he scurried to the chair placed in the center of the
room and made himself comfortable. So this must be the psychiatrist, Jack
realized. He leaned a bit closer to Aster, who was gesturing to him, “Sandy,
this is Jack. He's a... He's a very close friend of mine. He has a few things
he'd like help with, and I trust your judgment over anyone else's. Jack, this
is Dr. Sanderson. He's our top of the line psychiatrist and I think you two
will have quite a few things in common.”
Sanderson—and he looked a lot more like a Sanderson than the kid did—extended
his short, slightly chubby hand to Jack, but when the kid cleared his throat,
Sanderson relaxed his arm and gestured vaguely at Jack, as if saying he didn't
mean to intrude. Jack didn't realize he had pulled a face at the movement until
he relaxed, and he glanced between the three of them in embarrassment. Had he
always been so obvious?
“What does Jack need help with?” The kid asked Aster, though he had his gaze on
Jack as well, as to not leave him out of the conversation. Aster looked at Jack
as well, and Jack knew he would have to speak up soon enough. Aster may know
the surface of Jack's issues, but he didn't really know them at all at the same
time. Jack would have to explain himself and... he wasn't sure if he was ready
to face it just yet. Jack leaned more on Aster's arm, looking away from all of
them and towards the floor. His eyes felt like they were burning, but he didn't
blink. He didn't want to move at all, really. He thought they might just gobble
him up like the pathetic victim he was.
When Aster saw Jack wasn't going to say anything just yet, he took a breath and
looked back at Sanderson and the kid, saying in a sheepish tone, “He... hasn't
told me all of it, but he sometimes has trouble speaking up around others. Even
myself on occasion, and we're currently living together. He has a lot of
anxiety, he's extremely introverted at times, and I know he has nightmares
constantly, even if he doesn't wake me up about them. He's had a handful of
panic attacks, doesn't eat--”
“I eat,” Jack defended himself, and though his voice was quiet, Aster allowed
it to overpower his own. Jack made a face at the sudden attention on him, but
he was feeling brave, “I eat when you're at work...”
With a fond little sigh, Aster relented, “Alright, he eats, but not as much as
I think he should.” And that made Jack pout a little. So Jack didn't finish his
meals all the time, that didn't mean anything! He pushed against Aster's side
in a vein attempt to knock him over, and the older man chuckled softy before he
ran his hand down Jack's back.
“Is there anything else you want to tell him?” He asked Jack, looking down at
him with this patient stare, his eyes glistening with that emotion. Jack felt
chills run up and down his body. The good kind.
But now he had to speak to Sanderson and the kid face-to-face, and though he
had been feeling brave before, he could already feel it begin to slip away from
him. Awkwardly, Jack turned his head down to look at his feet, and he began his
train of thought with a few, pitiful noises. He needed to make sure his vocal
chords wanted to work before he began croaking out a sentence.
“I... um... s-sometimes see things.. see people that aren't there. Sometimes
I... feel weird. Bad weird, I mean... Um... Like.. Like t-tomorrow isn't gunna
come.” Jack strained out, shifting where he sat and constantly changing between
leaning on Aster for comfort and pulling away. He didn't want to be in this
tiny office talking about unimportant things. He wanted to be home, stretched
out on Aster's bed with the man on top of him. He wanted to hide underneath
flesh and heat and never have to think again. He wished he could just press his
face against the pillow and pretend that pleasure was all he ever felt instead
of sitting here, thinking about the things and the people that had hurt him
before. And thinking about the things he couldn't even remember.
“I do things to... to distract myself. I... s-s... I have sex to... to make it
go away. I get in trouble, sometimes...” Jack forced out, and this time he
didn't have to choose between Aster or nothing, because now Aster was leaning
away to look at him. Jack chanced a glance up, and he could see the confusion
and guilt and doubt written all over his face. He could see the surprised
stares he got from Sanderson and the kid. He quickly turned his head away. He
hated seeing those expressions. He hated being here.
“Seven.” He finally croaked, and Aster returned to his side. Their hands linked
together and Aster pressed a comforting kiss to his temple, ignoring the sharp
intake of breath coming from Sanderson and the quiet 'oh' from the kid.
“What's this system you have here?” The kid asked, his brows raised as he read
off Sanderson's gesturing hands, “What does 'seven' mean?”
“It's a scale. If his anxiety spikes, he gives me a number to tell me. Ten is
the worst...” Aster quickly explained, and Jack began to shiver. He held him
tighter to his chest, trying to stop the shaking with brute force, but that
never worked. Instead, he brought a hand up and brushed it against his hair.
Sanderson was tapping his fingers against the wooden armrests of his chair,
thinking, and the kid looked between Aster and Jack on the couch and Sanderson
in his chair, waiting for the little man to begin to sign again. When he did,
the kid almost sighed in relief for something to keep his attention on.
“Dr. Sanderson would like to spend time with Jack alone. He wants to help, and
he thinks it would be best if Jack is allowed some privacy during these talks.”
The kid spoke, clasping his hands together in front of him as he stood.
Jack shook his head quickly, immediately grabbing Aster's shirt with a tight
fist, and he gasped out, “Don't go. Please, I-I don't--”
“It's okay! He can stay until you're ready. He can help you calm down.” The kid
said without looking to Sanderson, lifting up a hand to settle Jack down. The
white-haired man leaned heavily against Aster, hiding his face against his
chest as he shuddered. Aster merely held onto him tighter, rubbing his back
with a firm hand and brushing his hair from his face. When Jack still didn't
settle, Aster sighed and slipped his hand underneath his scarf, settling his
fingers on the collar and pressing it against the back of his neck firmly. In
seconds, Jack's quaking stopped.
“Better?” Aster whispered, caressing the collar now, and Jack nodded almost
hesitantly.
“Yes,” He whispered back, slowly pulling away from Aster, though he still clung
to his shirt almost desperately. He didn't want him to leave. He didn't want to
be alone with these strangers, no matter how nice they seemed. The minute Aster
left him, Jack just knew he would be in trouble.
“I should go. I'll wait for you outside, okay?” Aster said to him in a soft
voice, and Jack clung to him even tighter, shaking his head. Aster squeezed the
back of his neck firmly, and said in a more firm tone, “I will be outside.
You'll be okay. I trust Sanderson, he's going to take good care of you.”
Jack stilled, listening to him with a bowed head, and his fist slowly relaxed
in Aster's shirt. He still didn't want to let go, he still didn't want to be
alone, but... But he had to trust Aster, didn't he? Reluctantly, he let go of
Aster's shirt. He wanted to whimper when Aster began to stand, but he kept
himself on the couch, his head still bowed and his hands squeezing the cloth of
his pants. Aster made his way to the door, opening it slowly, then closing it
behind him. Once it shut with a soft click resounding in the quiet room, Jack's
eyes slowly rose to meet Sanderson's, and from the look he received back, he
knew he looked anything but friendly.
Sanderson looked over his shoulder at Jamie, signing something brief, and Jamie
nodded before clearing his throat.
“Dr. Sanderson would like me to go over basic procedure with you, so please
bear with me for a moment.” The brunet said, a kind smile on his face, “Dr.
Sanderson cannot speak for personal reasons. However, he believes this allows
him to listen even better than most of his colleagues. He likes to experiment
with various treatments and therapy methods, which means that these forms of
therapy may not have scientific proof that they are effective. This also means
there's no scientific proof that they aren't effective. Dr. Sanderson will want
to begin with a more traditional form of therapy, and will adjust his procedure
as needed. He will inform you of any different methods he would like to employ
before acting on them, and will not proceed without your consent. During
therapy, I will occasionally be present to act as a voice for Dr. Sanderson,
but I will most likely be absent, as per his instructions. If you have any
questions or concerns, please tell either one of us, and we will do our best to
assist you.”
With that, the kid sighed and began walking towards the door, while saying,
“What you do during your session is completely up to you. If you want to talk,
then talk. If you don't, then don't feel pressured to. Dr. Sanderson will be
there the entire time for whenever you wish to begin.”
With a final goodbye, the boy tugged open the door and left, leaving Jack and
Sanderson alone. Jack turned his attention back to Sanderson, who gave the teen
a patient smile. Sanderson shifted in his seat, and he tented his fingers
together, waiting for Jack to begin. The young man blinked at Sanderson, and
though nothing was happening, he couldn't help but feel anxious about what was
happening. Minutes passed, and soon Jack was tapping his foot impatiently. Just
like the kid said, Sanderson wasn't saying anything. Jack was so used to being
poked and prodded with questions, that this was just... weird.
He glanced towards the door. Aster should be right outside, right? If Sanderson
really wasn't going to do anything, maybe he could just... leave? Jack glanced
at the little man before he began to get up. Sanderson followed his movements
with his head, a brow raising in curiosity. He stayed seated, even as Jack made
his way to the door. He didn't even try to get up when he saw the man's hand
rest on the handle. Not a peep or a gesture even as the knob turned, and Jack
opened it an inch. Sanderson merely smiled at him, patiently waiting. Jack
stared at him for a bit longer, then peered outside, coming almost face-to-face
with Aster, who was looking back at Jack with a curious and worried expression.
Looking back to Sanderson, Jack opened the door a bit more before whispering to
Aster, “He isn't saying anything.”
“He's mute,” Aster whispered back, his brow furrowing slightly, “Don't worry,
he's a great listener.”
“Just talk to him about anything,” the boy suddenly spoke up, leaning into
Jack's line of sight and making the young man reel back in surprise, but he
didn't turn away or ignore him, “Sometimes he'll write you a note or he'll have
me come back in to discuss some things with you at the end of your session, but
he's really just a living, breathing diary.”
Jack considered the boy's advice, his brows knitting together as he looked away
from them, and when he glanced once more at Sanderson, he saw the little man
watching him with that patient smile still on his face. Taking a slow breath,
Jack slowly closed the door. He was a little more reassured, now that he
thought about it. Aster had stayed out there like he promised. Even that boy
did... Jack would have to ask for his name. He was half tempted to open the
door again, but he saw Sanderson cast a glance at the clock on the wall behind
him.
Right, he only had a little while to do this. He recalled the time limit from
his previous appointments—typically thirty minutes. He wondered if it was the
same for Sanderson.
Taking another breath, Jack slowly made his way back to the couch. When he sat
down, he sat stiffly, and he nervously rubbed his hand against the scarf on his
neck, a little disappointed that he couldn't flaunt his collar, but it was
still there. Every time he swallowed he could feel it rub against his Adam's
apple, and that kept him grounded.
“They... said...” Jack began slowly, his voice rough and his anxiety clear on
his face, “They said... just talk. So...” He shook his head, his eyes roaming
the floor between the two of them. He needed a topic, didn't he? Sanderson was
probably expecting something important, something meaningful to Jack and his
past, something that would point him in the right direction of finding the
source of Jack's problems.
And yet, the only thing that Jack seemed capable of forming with his mouth was,
“I-I'm... sort of hungry. I was too nervous to eat breakfast today. Aster
didn't want to leave 'til I ate, but we were gunna be late, so when he wasn't
looking, I...” He blanched, and glanced at the door as if he expected the man
to burst in, “I dumped it down the sink drain. I shouldn't've. I hate wasting
food. It makes me feel weird inside. I never knew when I would get to eat real
food next—before I lived with Aster. All I ate were donuts and coffee and c--”
He made a strained noise, his cheeks suddenly flaring red, and he ducked his
head a bit lower. He was ashamed, he knew the feeling well. Often times
whenever a guy shot a load in his face, he would feel it. He felt it the first
few times he was with Aster, too, but... when he was brought home, it stopped.
Taking a deep breath, Jack closed his eyes and forced himself to continue. He
didn't know what to talk about still, so he went with the first thing on his
mind, “Aster's a nice man. He's good to me. He treats me good. And he's really
pretty, you know? I never see him work out, but he's got a lot of muscle. You
knew him for a while, right?”
He finally looked up at Sanderson, only to get a supportive grin from the
little man and a slight nod. He held up his small hand, all five fingers held
up, and then two more with his other.
“Seven years, huh?” Jack clarified, getting another nod, and with that, he
smiled and dropped his gaze again. “He seems the kinda guy to have lasting
friends. He's too kind. I stole from him before, y'know?”
He peeked up at Sanderson again, expecting judgment or anger, but all he got
was amused surprise. Feeling motivated, Jack continued on in a stronger voice,
“I took his jacket and his backpack and I stuffed it full of food. I don't know
why I did it...” He paused, his smile falling, and he lowered his head more,
bringing a hand up to run through his hair, “No... I know why. I thought....”
He shook his head, disappointed tears welling in his eyes, and he angrily
swiped them away, “He trusted me. He gave me everything he could. And I hurt
him. I... I don't get why he wasn't angry with me. He took me back the second
the cops called him. Acted like I didn't do a thing.”
Sanderson smiled some more, and he picked up his pad and paper, beginning to
write down information. Jack peeked up at him, looking at his hands for a time.
When Sanderson realized he was watching, he stopped writing. They met eyes,
Jack's filled with curiosity and Sanderson's filled with amusement. He held out
his pad, allowing Jack to see it, and Jack glanced at the words before his brow
furrowed.
“What's 'food insecure' mean?” Jack asked him, and Sanderson pulled back the
pad to write a quick explanation. Jack narrowed his eyes as he read it aloud,
“to be forced to live in hunger due to unreliable source of nutritious food.”
He leaned back, running the words over again in his mind before saying, “But
Aster feeds me. He makes sure I eat three times a day. And he gives me snacks
all the time.” Not to mention Jack ate all he wanted whenever Aster was at
work—but the man didn't need to know that.
Sanderson looked even more amused, and he scribbled something else on the pad,
holding it out for Jack to read. Funny, this situated sort of reminded Jack of
his and Aster's first... 'relationship' together.
“Being food insecure for a portion of your life can impact the way you treat
food later,” Jack read aloud, and a look of slight interest appeared on his
face as he asked Sanderson, “Really?”
The little man smiled and nodded, then wrote to him 'It's not irreversible, but
it can be difficult to keep from overeating.'
At that, Jack shook his head and said, “Aster gives me good portions. I eat it
all up, like a good--” He cut himself off again, another blush dusting his
cheeks, and he swiftly moved his hand up to rub at the scarf, press against the
collar. Sanderson arched a brow at him, but Jack didn't say anything more about
it. Sanderson wrote a few more notes down, but Jack didn't bother to look at
them.
“There's something wrong with me,” Jack whispered, as if he and Sanderson were
being watched or listened to, “Sometimes I can't speak... Sometimes I can't
remember things too well. I have nightmares a lot, sometimes about the same
thing, but usually not. My last psychiatrist said I was a danger to myself and
others. Said he wanted to be my guardian. Said I should be locked up otherwise.
Just cause I couldn't speak...”
Sanderson's patient smile fell into a concerned frown, one that made Jack
think, once again, of Aster. It was almost unnerving, how caring Aster's
friends and colleagues could be when they just met him. He wasn't sure if he
should thank Sanderson for worrying or not. Instead, he looked away and he
continued, “I didn't want to come here today. I thought you would be the same
as him. I thought you would want to lock me up, too. But you're nice. You're...
patient. And your assistant boy—what's his name?”
Sanderson quickly scrawled out a name, showing it to Jack who smiled when he
read it.
“Jamie. He's nice too.” Jack said, leaning back against the couch and looking
towards the door. “They're both outside, just waiting. Waiting for me. In
different ways, sure, but... It's nice.”
Sanderson stared at Jack a bit longer, waiting for him to continue, but the
young man kept quiet, his mind elsewhere. Deciding this was a good enough
start, Sanderson decided to conclude their appointment. He picked up a small
bell beside him, ringing it twice, and the door gently opened. Jack's eyes
widened a little, and he looked away just as Jamie came inside.
Sanderson was writing something lengthy, it seemed, and Jamie went to stand
beside his chair, looking between the two of them with a smile. With the note
written, Sanderson ripped the paper out, folded it thrice, then handed it to
Jack, who took it by the corner and tucked it into his jacket pocket.
“Dr. Sanderson wants you to read that when you get home today. He says you can
read it alone or with Aster, but its your decision to share it. He also wants
you to--” Jamie paused, his brows creasing as he followed Sanderson's hands.
When Sanderson realized Jamie wasn't continuing, he turned to look at him and
repeated himself. Jamie stuttered a little before he continued, “H-He also
wants you to, um... t-to tell Aster how you feel about his... muscles. Dr.
Sanderson says Aster works hard on them. He works out during his lunch break
sometimes. Man, that guy can sweat, though--”
Sanderson gave Jamie a flat look and snapped his fingers, bringing the young
man back on topic. With a faint blush, Jamie cleared his throat and continued
to translate, “Sorry, um... Dr. Sanderson also advises to try a dream diary.
Writing down your dreams and nightmares can help them past or can help you
understand why you're having them. You don't have to share it, but the Doctor
would be happy to look over your notes and help you understand them better.”
Sanderson smiled and linked his fingers together, resting them over his stomach
and nodding. Jamie smiled as well, and he said to Jack, “Doctor Sanderson
expects to see you back next week. Same day, same time. Don't feel obligated,
however! This is purely your own choice. And here,” Jamie handed Jack two
cards, “These are our business cards. You can call or text either one of us at
your leisure. We will always respond as quickly as we can, and your information
won't ever be saved or shared.”
Jack silently nodded, taking the cards and stuffing those in his pockets as
well. The door creaked open again, catching all of their attention, and Aster
poked his head in.
“Everything okay?” He asked them, slight impatience in his eyes, “Sandy, you
really need to get a bench out here, mate.”
Jack smiled despite himself, and he stood and nodded at Sanderson, then at
Jamie before he headed towards his boyfriend. He slipped out of the room and
let himself press against Aster's side, whispering to him, “I want to come back
next week. Can I?”
Aster, looking genuinely surprised, grinned wide and said happily, “Of course,
Jack. I told you he was nice.” He placed his hand at the back of Jack's neck,
just underneath his scarf, and Jack walked a bit closer to Aster, enjoying the
way he bumped against his side on occasion.
“I have to work, still,” Aster let Jack know, “If you want, you can stay, but
my work isn't very exciting. I can also drive you home real quick, if you would
prefer that.”
Jack smiled up at him, and he thought about his options for a moment before he
murmured, “I want to stay.”
Aster smiled and said, “Okay. Come on, I'll show you my cubicle.” He lead Jack
into the elevator, then he seemed to remember something. Turning to Jack, he
mentioned, “And if anyone asks, you're my new client, alright?”
“Alright, Aster,” Jack hummed, though he was a little confused as to why he
would need to lie. Was Aster not supposed to have him here? Jack couldn't help
but smirk a little at the thought of Aster breaking the rules for him. But the
more he thought about it, the more a darker, niggling thought in the back of
his mind came forth. Maybe Aster didn't want people to know he was dating a
whore.
Jack looked up at Aster, wondering if he should ask him or not. It would be
awkward to bring up at the least. And Jack wasn't even sure if he wanted to
know the answer, but he was worried.
“Aster,” He began, but the elevator doors suddenly slid open and three
strangers stepped inside. Jack bit his tongue and took a panicked step back. He
nearly pressed himself up against the back wall of the elevator, but before he
could, a hand found its way to Jack's shoulder, and suddenly he was being
pressed between the wall and a body. Aster made himself a shield between Jack
and the strangers, and though he was effectively trapping Jack in the corner of
the elevator, Jack found he actually kind of liked it.
Actually, Jack probably just liked the fact that he was being pressed up
against Aster more than anything. He seriously enjoyed being squished by that
toned body of his, no matter if it was standing, sitting, or lying down. He
peeked up at the man, who's green eyes casually darted towards Jack. After a
brief smile, Jack was turning his head away, and he silently scoffed at himself
for being ridiculous earlier. Of course Aster wouldn't be allowed to bring his
partner to work. Despite Jack's past and possible record, Aster looked at him
with that nameless emotion.
Reassured, Jack leaned against Aster's side, pressing his cheek against his
chest and closing his eyes. This close, Jack could almost hear Aster's
heartbeat through his business casual suit.
Once the elevator reached Aster's floor, the two of them stepped out, Aster
guiding Jack with his hand still on the teen's shoulder. They walked side-by-
side down a hall between cubicles, all filled with busy employees. Halfway
down, they passed a familiar face, one that made Jack grow anxious, and their
arrival to the cubicle right beside hers didn't go unnoticed.
Wide, green eyes followed them closely as Aster took his seat at the desk. Jack
sat himself on top of the short, three-drawer filing cabinet, his eyes
constantly glancing up at the woman who was now leaning against the divider
between their cubicles. Aster pretended not to notice her and merely began
typing at his computer. Her unwavering stare began to make Jack uncomfortable,
and he squinted at her when she began to open her mouth.
“I can't believe you actually brought him!” She said to Aster, not at all
daunted by Jack's feeble attempt at a glare. Aster looked up at Anna with
equally wide eyes, as if he truly didn't notice her gaping at them that entire
time.
“Yeah...? You told me to.” Aster mentioned in a small voice, and Anna
spluttered at his response.
“I didn't think you would actually do it! I thought I would have to drag you
and Jack here!” She said, and Jack squinted at her again before Aster cleared
his throat.
“Well....” He said, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head. He had
nothing more to add on the topic, and merely turned back to his computer,
getting right back to work. Jack watched Aster for a short while, then he
glanced up at Anna, who was still staring. Her piercing eyes made Jack shift
around on the filing cabinet. He wanted her to stop, to look away and mind her
own business.
She looked like she wanted to ask something else. Worse, she looked like she
wanted to ask Jacksomething, and Jack wouldn't have any of that. In an attempt
to keep her quiet and to get her to mind her own business, Jack reached out to
Aster, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. When he managed to get the man's
attention, Jack leaned in for a kiss, and found himself pleasantly surprised
when Aster leaned up to meet him halfway. They kissed sweetly, Aster not
holding back despite the fact that he really shouldn't be kissing his partner
in the middle of work.
Of course, Aster wasn't dumb. When they pulled away, he saw Jack glancing
Anna's way, and with a glance of his own, he confirmed that she had been scared
off. With a sigh, Aster turned his chair towards Jack, saying in a quiet voice,
“That wasn't polite, Jack.”
Jack looked at Aster with wide eyes, surprised at being scolded, but he didn't
really respond. All he did was huff and cross his arms, dropping his gaze to
his shoes. Aster rose a brow at his attitude, and in an attempt to get him to
lighten up, he reminded him, “She has your best interests at heart, Jack. Just
like I do. Sometimes it's good to have an unbiased third party ready to
intervene, you know.”
Jack's eyes shot back to Aster and, with a pout on his lips and an almost
offended look in his eye, he murmured, “She's not unbiased.” Aster made a face
at that, but found compelled to agree, though he doubted Jack realized his
point merely made Aster's argument stronger.
“Alright, fine, she's biased, but only towards what she thinks is best for you.
She's afraid you'll be hurt, Jack. Don't you remember that it was her idea to
take you to Sanderson in the first place?”
“No. S'not right.” Jack argued, his brow pinched together, “She said to get me
a doctor. You chose Sandy.”
Aster blinked at the nickname, but he didn't let it distract him, and instead
said, “If she hadn't given me the idea, I would have never brought you here.”
Jack opened his mouth to argue, but no words came forth. Aster felt a curl of
worry in his stomach, worried that he pushed Jack a bit too far, but when he
saw the teen pout a bit more and turn his head away, he knew he had only won
the argument. Jack's nostrils flared for a moment as he sighed, then he
grumbled, “Fine. Sorry.”
“Don't apologize to me, kit—” Aster sighed when he realized he used the pet
name, but he noticed Jack relax just a bit from it, “Apologize to her.”
Jack suddenly looked worried at the idea, and he cast a glance towards her
cubicle, but she wasn't at all visible. He looked back at Aster for a panicked
moment, as if about to ask how, but Aster beat him to it, and he held up a
pencil and a notepad, both inscribed with the company logo.
“Just write her a letter and drop it into her cubicle. She'll see it.” He told
him, and Jack slowly took the items from Aster. As he thought of what to write,
Aster smiled and turned back to his computer, resuming his work for the third
time that day. A half hour passed, and then two hours, and all Jack had to show
for it were the words, “Anna, I” and that was all. Jack didn't know how to
apologize to her. He barely wanted to, but he knew it was what Aster wanted...
Aster looked back at his partner curiously, amused by the determined yet
annoyed look on his face. Jack probably didn't realize how expressive his face
could be, but Aster adored it regardless. When he knew Jack hadn't made much
progress in his letter, Aster decided it was time for a little incentive.
“Kitten,” He whispered, catching Jack's attention faster than if he were to
call him by name, and the boy looked at him with eager eyes, “If you complete
your letter and deliver it before three, I'll reward you.”
Ten minutes later and Jack was folding up his apology letter into a neat
square, and was kneeling on the filing cabinet so he could peer into Anna's
work space. He could hear Aster chuckle as he leaned on the divider, and when
he glanced back to his partner, he realized Aster had the absolute perfect view
to Jack's behind.
Clicking his tongue, Jack rolled his eyes playfully and looked back at Anna,
who was speaking into her headset as she wrote on a notepad, her back to Jack.
She didn't notice him looking at her, and she definitely didn't notice when he
dropped the little note onto her desk beside her empty coffee cup.
Once delivered, Jack slunk back down in Aster's cubicle, and he looked at the
man with eager eyes. Aster rose a single brow at him, then smirked and nodded,
silently confirming that Jack would be rewarded later. Jack smiled
victoriously, and he settled back on the filing cabinet, kicking his feet a
little and peered around the space.
He played with Aster's knick-knacks, using the pen and paper to draw or fold
into little airplanes, which he launched at the older man who took each hit
with a good attitude. Jack had easily entertained himself until one, at which
point Aster had removed his headset, put his computer to sleep, and announced
to Jack that he was going to get something to eat.
“Are you hungry?” He asked the teen, but Jack only shook his head no. Aster
replied, “I'll be back in a few minutes. Anna's just next door if you need
anything,” and he left him with a kiss. Jack watched Aster walk down the hall
and disappear into the elevator. Before Jack slipped back into Aster's cubicle,
however, a second face was obstructing his view, and suddenly he was eye-to-eye
with Anna. She smiled at him, but Jack grimaced and quickly retreated back into
Aster's cubicle.
The divider didn't stop Anna, however, and she stood, looking over the wall and
down at Jack. “I found your note,” She said to him, and Jack's cheeks flushed
briefly. He turned his eyes away, fully embarrassed, but she seemed... touched
by what he wrote. Granted, it was a rather messy apology, but she seemed
satisfied by it.
“It's alright, you know. I'm not jealous of your or Aster, and I don't mean to
seem like I want to intrude on your relationship,” She said in a low voice, and
though Jack wasn't looking at her, he was listening closely, “Aster and I have
a past, but it's over now. We're just friends, Jack. And because of that, I
want to be your friend, too.”
Jack couldn't help the look that crossed his face. She sounded so much like the
CPS workers he had been introduced to over the years. Anna seemed to think the
same, since a moment later, she scoffed at herself and murmured, “Wow, sorry,
when I'm at work, those words just say themselves.”
Jack glanced at her, saw she was smiling, then looked away again, stuffing his
hands into his pockets. He wasn't sure what she was expecting, if she really
believed he would just open up to her and spill his life story. Sure, she was
pretty and nice, but so were a lot of people, and that didn't mean they meant
well. So many pretty and nice people never do. Pitch didn't.
But that wasn't fair, Jack told himself with a sigh. She was trying to be kind
to him, and if she was Aster's friend, then she reallywas trying. He should
give her a chance. Just like he did with Sandy. He looked up at her again, a
bit more uncomfortable, but she gave him a patient smile and rested her chin on
her arms, still leaning against the divider.
What would he even ask her? All they had in common was Aster. At least with
Sandy, he knew he should talk about himself. Anna wasn't there to be his
psychiatrist. She was there just as a person who wanted to befriend him.
“You dated Aster?” He asked suddenly, and she had to tilt her heard toward him
to hear him properly. When the words registered in her mind, her brows rose a
bit and she considered the question. Great, now she probably thought that was
all Jack cared about.
“He didn't tell you?” Anna asked him instead of accusing Jack, and she looked
genuinely surprised and maybe even... hurt, “It was years ago... I guess I
shouldn't be so upset, but—Well, yes. We dated. Long before he worked here,
actually. I'm about six years older than him, and we got together when he was
just turning twenty-four. I introduced him to... your lifestyle.”
“He was your--?” Jack asked in surprise, his eyes wide, and Anna smiled and
winked at him.
“Who do you think taught him all about it?” She asked him coyly. Jack had to
take a minute to think about it, to imagine Aster crawling around the apartment
in boxers and a collar, reduced to nothing but whimpers and whines. He pictured
the toned, intimidating and sexy man at Anna's feet, kissing her shoes, running
his lips along her thighs, pressing intoher--
“Eugh,” Jack said with a shudder, and Anna began to giggle, as if she had been
able to see his thoughts.
“Sadly, he felt the same it seemed. Two years into our relationship and he
tells me he thinks he's gay.” She continued with a pout, tilting her head a bit
as she recalled it, “I was disappointed. He was the greatest little thing. But
he's a lot happier, I think. I've never seen him so happy before he met you,
you know.”
Jack peeked up at her, raising an uncertain brow, and she only smiled wider at
him before she held up a finger and slipped down from over the divider. A
moment later, and she was in Aster's cubicle, sitting with Jack at Aster's desk
with a secretive look in her eye.
“Promise not to tell?” She asked him, and Jack nodded hesitantly. He wasn't
sure what he was getting himself into, and he wasn't really sure if he was up
for it, but with the way Anna was acting he was interested. “A few months
before I found out about you, he had been talking about quitting and starting
over in some other city. He hated it here, always going on and on about how
terrible it was and how he knew no one but me and blah, blah, blah. I tried to
convince him to stay and give it a bit more time. I told him things will get
better, but he was under a lot of stress.
“A month and a half back, and I noticed he stopped talking about it. I figure
this must have been when he met you. I asked him if he was still thinking about
moving, and he said he was, but I hadn't heard a peep from him about any of it
since. And then one day, he comes into work looking like the happiest man in
the world. I knew he must have found someone. I teased him about it just on a
whim and he lit up like a light! Oh, he was so embarrassed, but then he just
started gushing about you, about how much he wanted you to be happy... It was
adorable.”
Anna saw Jack's eyes light up the more she spoke. She saw how he seemed to
relax as she mentioned how much Aster thought of him, what he thought of him,
even if it was a little exaggerated. She could see him considering her words,
weighing them in his mind, but she couldn't tell what sort of conclusion he
came to. His face pinched a little, a pained expression, crossed with confusion
and happiness, but his overall demeanor was screaming caution. She wished she
had two more minutes with him, but then Aster arrived, and he looked between
the two of them with a touch of curiosity.
“I didn't realize we were holding a meeting,” He said to Anna, setting his
coffee and bagel down on his desk. He shooed the woman out of his seat with a
wave of his hand, then looked right at Jack and asked, “What did I miss?
Everything okay?”
It must have been on impulse that Aster reached out to touch Jack's thigh. Anna
couldn't have guessed Aster would be that good with this sort of person, where
he could just walk right into the situation and know exactly what he needed at
that moment. But here he was, bringing Jack out of his thoughts and back into
reality, and the teen looked like he had been saved. Anna decided it was time
for her to step out of the situation, and she said lightly, “Oh, I was just
pestering Jack. I got a little lonely, but I'm better now.”
She slipped back into her cubicle, but she kept an ear open, trying to listen
in on Aster and Jack's conversation which opened with a concerned, “Are you
alright?” from Aster.
“M'okay,” Jack confirmed lightly, his cheeks a light pink as thoughts and
emotions flitted through him, all of them leading up to one decision. He needed
to show Aster how thankful he was for all that he had done for him. He wanted
to show Aster that he felt the same towards him, that he had never been happier
before Aster made his first purchase. He needed him to see just how grateful he
was.
He leaned towards Aster, his chest curling in delight when Aster leaned in as
well, and he kissed the older man with as much passion as he could muster. He
noticed Aster's eyes flicker up, wondering if Jack was trying to scare off an
unassuming witness, but hummed pleasantly when he saw no such thing. He kissed
Jack back without worry, closing his eyes and bringing a hand up to the back of
his neck. He even followed Jack when the teen leaned back against the divider
wall, even though he had to stand up to do so.
When they pulled away from each other, Jack whispered, “I... I'm hungry,” and
he hoped Aster would get his point.
“I brought a bagel,” Aster said with a slight frown, and Jack only blushed more
at that. He shook his head no, sitting up a bit more to look Aster in the eye.
“I'm hungry,” He said again, a bit desperately, and when Aster still seemed
confused, Jack leaned in and brushed his lips against the man's ear. His tongue
traced along the edge, his arms wrapping around Aster's neck, and with a
breath, Jack whispered in an alluring voice, “I want you.”
Aster's breath shuddered, and he clutched at Jack's hips for a moment,
whispering huskily, “Jack... I... I told you. When we get home.”
“Don't wanna wait,” Jack whispered quickly, “Bathroom. Together. Please?”
“Kit,” Aster growled, but his grip on Jack was tightening and he nosed at
Jack's neck for a moment. With them so close, Jack easily slipped a hand down
from Aster's neck and to his lap, giving him a brief but tight squeeze. He
could feel Aster's inhale against his neck. His hands shot up Jack's body,
clutching at him at his ribs, and the muscles in his neck tensed for a moment
before he finally gave in. Growling into his ear, Aster said, “Fine, but we're
doing this on my terms.”
With a surprisingly steady hand, he shoved Jack onto his feet from the filing
cabinet, then stood himself. He set a hand on Jack's shoulders, walking him
down the hall of cubicles, passing the first bathroom and heading instead to a
much less frequented facility down the stairs.
As they made their way down the stairs, Aster wondered to himself if this was
such a great idea. He was at work, and if he got caught, Aster could lose his
job. His entire career could be flushed down the toilet. Would his absence even
go unnoticed?
Thinking about it, Aster figured he was technically still on lunch. He was
supposed to take at least forty-five minutes to recuperate, but he always ended
up working through them He preferred getting the job done instead of leaving
some for the next day. And though Anna fondly taunted him for being a
workaholic, Aster was beginning to see it as a kind of benefit, especially when
it came to... this situation.
They entered the empty bathroom together, Jack in front and Aster behind him.
Jack turned a bit to look at Aster, wondering if the man was going to take him
on the sinks, but Aster pushed him into the largest cubicle in the corner,
closing and locking the door behind him. He pushed Jack towards the wall,
giving him a long, hot kiss. Jack tugged at his shirt, fumbling with his
buttons, but before he could get anywhere, Aster growled out, “Kit, down.”
Jack's breath shuddered for a moment, excitement making him hesitate, but then
he was dropping to his knees on the linoleum floor, his eyes wide and patient
as they waited for Aster's next command. Aster smirked down at him, running his
thumb against his bottom lip, and he whispered, “Rules.”
Jack nodded, indicating he was paying attention. Aster licked his lips, then
resumed, “If you hear the door open, you're to stop immediately. You are to
stay completely silent. If you want to stop, grab my hair or push my hands
away. Understand?”
Jack nodded again, and Aster smirked down at him before he ran his fingers
through his hair, “I want to fuck your mouth. And then I'll fuck you.”
Jack shivered at that, his lips parting in a soft gasp. He immediately nuzzled
against Aster's thigh, looking up at him with eager eyes. Aster grinned down at
him, and he began to undo his pants, all the while whispering, “You've been so
good today, Kitten. You deserve a good treat, don't you?”
Oh, it made Aster both anxious and excited to be playing out their kinks at
work. He'd never be able to use this bathroom again without thinking about
this. Aster figured there were worse things in life. He unbuckled his belt
slowly, irritating Jack at the languid pace, but when he managed to get his
cock out, Jack brightened up again. However, instead of jumping forward and
sucking him in like he may have done at the beginning of their relationship, he
held himself back and waited for Aster's command. Seeing the precious young man
sitting there and begging with his eyes, being a good little pet...
His grip in Jack's hair tightened just a fraction, his blood boiling beneath
his skin in pure lust, and he whispered softly, “Open your mouth. That's it,
nice and wide... Gorgeous, Kitten...” He pressed his thumb down on Jack's
tongue, wetting it, then he cupped his jaw and ran the head of his cock across
his lips. Jack's breath came quickly, hot pants across Aster's skin. His tongue
flexed, fighting back the urge to reach out and press against him. His hands
clenched on the fabric of his pants. When Aster didn't push in quickly enough,
Jack breathed out especially rough. Aster figured if he was allowed to make
noise, he would be whimpering.
Finally, Aster decided to indulge, and he slowly slipped his cock past Jack's
lips. The noise Jack made was absolutely sinful, but it was a noise. A moan, to
be exact, and Aster had to punish him for breaking a rule. He knew Jack had
realized it, too. When he pulled away from Jack's mouth, the man's eyes widened
and stared up at him, apologetic. Aster clicked his tongue a few times and
whispered, “Ah, ah, Jack. Quietly.”
Jack huffed and pouted and he nuzzled against his thigh once more, but he kept
quiet. Shyly, he ran his tongue up the inside of Aster's thigh, hoping to beg
him like this since he couldn't use his voice. He could feel Aster tense, his
muscles quivering at the sensation, and Jack was briefly reminded of what
Sanderson told him to tell Aster. He thought about saying it now, but he
couldn't handle breaking his role now. Instead, he went to Aster's other thigh
and licked there too, giving a few kisses as well.
Aster chuckled under his breath, running his fingers through Jack's hair once
more, and he purred out, “Oh, alright, Kit. I'll forgive you. Open up wide.”
When Jack had his mouth open once more, Aster slid in with no hesitation. He
himself groaned at the wetness that surrounded him. He gasped when Jack gave a
small suck, his fingers digging into his hair a bit more. Jack's tongue
wriggled against the underside of Aster's cock, coaxing the man to start slowly
rocking his hips into him. Jack breathed out through his nose, his hands moving
up to Aster's thighs to hold himself up. His knees were going to start aching
soon from the hard floor, but he didn't really care about it. All he wanted was
more Aster in him.
Aster's hand moved to the back of Jack's skull, gripping him firmly right where
his neck began. He told him the slightest warning, “I'm going to move now,”
before he really started getting into it. He started with a few calculating
thrusts first, making sure Jack could handle him at this angle, making sure he
can still breath well enough. Only once he was sure it was all alright did he
really start enjoying himself.
He held Jack's head steady with a firm grip, thrusting down his throat at an
easy pace. Jack kept his jaw hanging open and his tongue flattened against the
bottom of his mouth with every movement. More and more spit built up, coating
Aster's cock and dribbling down Jack's chin. A slick noise began permeating the
air, barely perceivable to even Aster, but it made his dick twitch in delight.
His head tilted back as he continued to fuck Jack's mouth. Jack squeezed
Aster's thighs, a few tears brimming his eyes from the restricted oxygen. He
choked a little when Aster pressed in particularly deep, but it seemed like the
sound and the feeling only drove Aster on.
Jack moved one of his hands tentatively up, placing it first on Aster's pelvis,
then sliding it down to cup his balls. Aster's hips faltered when Jack squeezed
him, and his moan echoed in the bathroom briefly. Aster gripped Jack's hair
tighter, pulling his bangs back and away from his face. Jack's teary eyes
darted up to Aster's face, taking great pleasure at the sight of the older man
so thrown into pleasure. He wanted to reach down and relieve the pressure
trapped in his jeans, but Aster didn't tell him to or give him permission. He
rolled his hips, trying to rut against something, but his jeans were too tight.
He didn't have to wait much longer, though. Aster's hands cradled Jack's skull
and he began to thrust into his mouth in earnest. Jack gagged a second time,
but he kept up with Aster's movements, glancing up at his boyfriend to watch
his face as he unraveled. Aster's mouth hung open, his breathing loud, but his
groans subdued. His eyes had squeezed shut and sweat rolled down his temple. He
gasped when he came, and Jack flinched and coughed. Aster's hands kept Jack's
mouth on his cock, and the boy struggled to swallow down all his spunk. Some
spilled from the corners of his mouth, dribbling down his chin. He could feel
Aster twitching on his tongue, and when he peeked back up at him, he saw the
man staring down at him with a look of pure adoration, possession, and that
emotion.
“What a good boy,” Aster whispered to him, more of a breath than anything. He
slowly pulled away, Jack leaning back and huffing when his jaw was no longer
tense. A bit more cum rolled down his lips, and he tried to lick it away, but
even his tongue was thick with Aster's mess. Aster chuckled at him, then
reached down and tugged the scarf away from his neck, wiping Jack's mouth and
chin clean for him. Jack knelt there, catching his breath and swallowing down
the leftover in his mouth, and when he was cleaned up, he gave Aster a begging
look.
“Look at you,” Aster purred out, brushing his hands through Jack's hair as the
young man pouted and squirmed, “You took your treat well, baby. But you still
want more, huh?” He reached down and took Jack by his hands, pulling him to his
feet and bringing him towards the stall wall.
“Turn around,” He whispered to Jack, who obeyed quickly, “Show me where you
want me, Jack.”
The teen quickly wiggled out of his jeans, yanking them down his thighs until
his ass was bare. He leaned forward against the wall with a shoulder and moved
both hands behind him, grabbing and spreading his cheeks for Aster, who hummed
in approval.
“My rules still stand,” He reminded him, and he balled up the scarf he still
held before he held it up to Jack's lips. Jack eagerly opened his mouth for
him, letting the man stuff the fabric inside. The cloth was a lot more pliant
than Aster's cock, and it allowed Jack to clench his teeth while still muffling
his voice.
“It's going to be a bit rough,” Aster warned Jack, spitting in his hand right
after and smearing it over his cock. Jack glanced over his shoulder, unable to
really see anything below Aster's hips, but he still held himself open for
Aster and even jutted his hips back towards him. He peeked up at Aster's face,
getting a reassuring smile from him. Jack wasn't worried. “Relax. Speak up if
you want to stop.”
Jack huffed through his nose, a teasing expression in his eyes. Like he would
ask Aster to stop! He wanted to give this man everything.
Aster kissed Jack's neck before he began to push into him. It really was rough.
Jack pressed his shoulder more against the stall wall, then his forehead before
he remembered he was in a relatively public bathroom. He pulled his head away
from the wall. Aster's hand came to grip one of his cheeks, and Jack used the
now freed hand to grip onto the metal bar just in front of him. His jaw tensed
for a moment when the stretch became particularly painful, but after a few deep
breaths and some gentle kisses and caresses from the older man, he was relaxed
enough to allow Aster in the rest of the way.
“There's a good boy,” Aster purred into his ear, leaning heavily against Jack's
back and trapping him against the wall. He began with shallow thrusts, jerking
Jack's hips forward slightly. The teen gripped the bar a bit tighter, his head
tilting his just enough to rest on Aster's shoulder. The scarf in his mouth
tickled against his neck, but he still stayed quiet. The more Aster moved
inside of him, the more pliant he became, and soon the pain was next to
nonexistent. The hand on Jack's hand slid down to grab his thigh, lifting one
leg up until his knee was pressed on the bar. His jeans restricted tightly on
his knees and Jack had to hop a little to stay balanced, but when Aster resumed
his thrusting, Jack immediately knew it was all for the best. He could feel
Aster's cock digging into him, and he had to put almost all his focus into not
groaning in delight.
“Jack?” Aster's voice suddenly came, the control gone from it and replaced
instead by worry. He stopped his thrusting and brought a hand up to Jack's
cheek, catching a tear that had begun to roll down his cheek. Jack blinked a
few times, feeling a few more welling up, but he shook his head and tried to
smile at Aster around the gag in his mouth. It was okay, he wanted to say to
him, but both the rules and the gag kept him from trying. Instead, he gently
worked his hips back, then he nuzzled against Aster's jaw as best as he could
in this weird, bent backwards position he was in. When that didn't get Aster
moving, he let go of his bottom and instead reached around Aster to grab at
his, trying to push him forward into him.
“You sure?” Aster asked him softly, still treading the line between perfect,
caring boyfriend and commanding owner. Jack nodded quietly, smiling a bit more
when he saw the last of his concern melt from those bright green eyes of his.
“I love you,” He reminded Jack in a whisper before he resumed their play,
gripping his hip and raised thigh in a tight grip and ramming back into him.
Jack gasped and choked around the scarf and he had to hold onto the railing
once more to keep from ramming himself into the wall of the stall, but the
pleasure that seemed to erupt within him made up for it. He threw his head back
when the sensations grew intense, and he was certain that if the scarf hadn't
been there, he would be crying out despite the rules Aster had placed. He could
feel the cloth growing thick with his saliva, pressing down on his tongue
heavily.
“Grab the top of the stall,” Aster whispered to him, and Jack shakily obeyed,
moving one hand at a time until his fingers curled around the top of the
plastic wall. Aster's other hand slid down to Jack's other thigh, and Jack
couldn't hold back that soft whimper.
“Don't worry, Kit. I got you,” Aster reassured him gently, and he lifted the
smaller man until both knees were balancing on the metal bar. Aster pinned him
there, one hand on the small of Jack's back, the other squishing his thigh
down, and he resumed his harsh thrusts, groaning at how spread his little lover
was for him. Jack's entire body tensed, his back arching and his head tilting
so far back he could feel the sweat running from temple to the top of his ear.
He tried to work his hips down to meet Aster's, but the bar was hard to balance
on. He could feel his fingers turning white with how tightly he was holding on.
He gurgled around the scarf, ecstasy racing forward to overwhelm him, but he
didn't cum until he felt Aster's hand around his cock, giving him just the
slightest stroke. Despite the rule, Jack let out a muffled whimper as he
spurted all over the bathroom stall wall, some of it spraying back onto his
bare lap. Aster continued to thrust, and Jack had to endure the feeling of his
muscles burning so that his lover could reach his own end, filling the smaller
of the two up with hot pumps of his load.
The moment Aster was done, he slowly pulled Jack back against his chest,
sliding one arm under his thighs and carrying him away from the wall. Jack
could feel himself trembling and more tears fell from his eyes, but when he
looked up at Aster, he felt nothing but peace.
The man sat Jack down on the toilet and he knelt before him. He caressed Jack's
jaw before he slowly pulled the scarf from his teeth. Once that was freed, he
used it to clean Jack's thighs off, but he didn't get up to clean the stall
wall just yet. He stayed kneeling in front of Jack, the scarf discarded on the
floor and his hands gently kneading into the muscle of his thighs. Already he
could see where Jack's knees would bruise, thick lines right along where he had
been balancing. He moved his hands down to there, massaging the skin in hopes
that he could relieve some of the swelling there.
“You were so good,” He whispered to Jack, his eyes filled with adoration, and
Jack tentatively peeked up at him. Aster smiled at him, then carefully rose up
to kiss Jack. The teen slowly kissed back, and when they leaned away from one
another, their eyes met.
“What was all that for, anyways?” Aster asked, amusement in his tone, and Jack
flushed in shy embarrassment.
“U-uh...” His fingers tapped against Aster's shoulders, his eyes darting
everywhere but at Aster, then he admitted, “Y-you have really nice muscles.”
They stared at one another for a long moment, Jack breaking it and looking away
when he became too nervous. Aster considered the compliment, knowing that
couldn't have been the reason for Jack's sudden desire...
But he would buy it.
With a smirk, he kissed Jack's forehead and he whispered, “Thanks, Kitten.
Feeling better?”
Jack nodded, but he stayed sitting on the toilet even when Aster stood up and
wiped himself off with the scarf. Using the same one, he cleaned off the wall
as best as he could, then he looked at Jack hesitantly.
“Almost done?” He asked him, “I need to wash this...”
“S'okay. I'll come out soon.” Jack told him, resting his elbows on his already
to-be-bruised knees. Aster hesitated only a moment longer, but he nodded and
slipped out of the stall. He made sure there was no one inside the bathroom,
and he left the stall door open so Jack could see him through the mirror. Aster
washed the scarf in the sink, using some of the hand soap to get rid of any
left over jizz in hopes it wouldn't stain. When he got most of it out—or as out
as it would get—he dried it under the hand dryer, the noisy fan filling the
room.
Jack waiting a bit longer on the toilet seat, but when he was sure there was
nothing left of Aster in him, he wiped himself clean with the toilet paper,
flushed it all, then stood and fixed his jeans. When he felt his clothes looked
as tidy as he could get them, he stepped out of the stall and looked at himself
in the mirror, only to flush a bright red at the sight.
“Oh,” He breathed, leaning forward on the sinks and running a hair through his
mussed hair. Some of it stuck to his still somewhat red face, a few streaks of
sweat visible from his hairline, and his lips looked positively swollen. Aster
peered over at Jack, and when he looked back at him, he could see he looked
almost just as worse for wear as Jack. His clothes were a mess, his shirt
wrinkled and half-open, and his pants had the slightest wet stain on the groin.
Jack had never really... seen himself after a scene. He never really took the
time to look at Aster, either. Or, if he did, he knew that they would just be
slipping into the bath in mere moments. Now they had to go through the rest of
the day like this...
His hand went down to his collar, a frown appearing on his face. Without the
scarf to cover it, the collar would be too apparent for Aster's comfort. He
didn't want to take it off, but he could already tell with the way Aster was
eyeing both his throat and the still somewhat wet scarf in his hands that it
was becoming a concern.
“Jack,” Aster started to say, but Jack interrupted him with a reluctant nod and
he pulled off the collar. Aster watched him as he tucked the collar into his
jacket pocket, his fingers briefly brushing against the letter Sanderson had
given him, but he didn't pull it out to read it just yet. He would wait until
he was at home.
“Feeling okay?” Aster asked him, walking over to the young man and setting a
hand on the back of his neck. Blue eyes met green for a moment, and Jack slowly
nodded once more.
“Four,” He told him, his brows furrowing, “But... hm... Just keep touching me?”
Aster smiled at him and nodded, moving his hand from Jack's neck to his back,
and he gave him a firm rub. When they were both ready, Aster handed Jack his
damp scarf, and the teen shoved it into his back pocket, balled up as best as
he could, though it still hung out to the back of his knee.
“Come on, just four more hours before we can head home, okay?” He told his pet,
and Jack nodded obediently before they began to head back to Aster's cubicle.
When they arrived, Anna peered over the divider at them, trying to divine what
they had gone and done on Aster's lunch, but the way Jack sat on the filing
cabinet with his attention anywhere but Aster and Aster's attention on his
computer left her scratching her head. She was almost certain they had gone and
done the nasty...
She shrugged a shoulder. She'd be able to find out from Aster the next day. She
could read him like an open book.
The rest of Aster’s shift went on without many further interruptions. Jack fell
asleep on the filing cabinet while Aster finished his work. When the time came
for Aster to finish his shift, they found they were both pretty hungry, but
both a bit too from the day’s stress and other ‘activities’ that they didn't
want to wait for Aster to finish cooking.
It seemed their favorite little eavesdropper wasn't done eavesdropping, as
moments after Aster admitted he was too tired to cook, Anna’s head popped up
over the cubicle wall. She looked absolutely thrilled and suggested, “Hey! Why
don't we all go out to eat? There’s this cute café just around the corner from
here, barely anyone goes around this time.”
Aster looked surprised, and the slightest bit interested, but when he turned to
see if Jack wanted to go, he saw the teen looked stressed just from thinking
about it. “Maybe not, Anna…” he mumbled, glancing back at the woman who was
pouting now.
Jack shifted where he sat on the filing cabinet. He knew Aster wanted to, he
could see it in those big green eyes of his. He must miss hanging out with
Anna, too… but Jack just really didn't want to deal with morepeople after a day
of doing that constantly.
And yet, with a sigh, Jack found his voice and suggested meekly, “Well… can you
order to go?”
Aster looked back at Jack in surprise at first… and then his eyes softened and
Jack suddenly felt a little embarrassed. Aster patted his knee, appreciative,
and Anna easily chirped out. “Of course! Why don't I give them a call and order
us all something. Jack!” The teen startled at hearing his name called so
exuberantly, “Soup or sandwich?”
“S-su… Sandwich…?” He ventured, though he didn't nearly sound as confident
about his decision that Anna would have liked.
Still, she nodded her head and turned to Aster next, who replied happily,
“Soup.”
“Got it. Calling them now.” She said happily, and she disappeared back into her
cubicle to do just that.
Aster looked back at Jack, who still looked a little uncomfortable at the idea,
so he leaned in and kissed him before he whispered, “Thank you, Jack.”
Jack made a noise in the back of his throat and shifted again, his eyes
avoiding Aster’s as best as he could. Finally, his lips parted and he grumbled
out, “S’nothing…. Just hungry.”
“Of course.” Aster smiled, kissing him once again, “Do you think Anna can eat
with us tonight?”
Jack sighed as if the very question was a weight on his shoulders, but he
eventually gave a nod. He crossed his arms and stuck out his bottom lip, then
grumbled, “but no questions…”
“Promise.” Aster smiled, both of his hands going to Jack’s knees and gently
rubbing, his grip turning soft when Jack gave a brief wince. He definitely
bruised…
When Anna reappeared, Jack and Aster got up from their spots. Jack briefly
regarded putting the scarf on, but there was just a few too many stains visible
for him to commit. He kept it stuffed in his pocket and instead tugged the hood
of his jacket over his head to keep the back of his neck warm.
As a group, the three of them headed downstairs and towards the parking lot.
Anna decided she would pick up the food and meet them at Aster’s, and Jack
couldn't have been more relieved at that. He and Aster got into their car and
took off, the ride quiet and calm. Once at the apartment, Jack began to undo
his seat belt, but Aster stopped him with a touch to his shoulder.
“Just say the word and she’s gone.” He told Jack, keeping their eyes locked to
show just how serious he was.
Jack stared back, feeling his chest swell and warm. He nodded twice, and Aster
relaxed their gaze.
“Everything will be okay.” He told him next, and Jack didn't hesitate to nod a
third time. Aster sent him a smile and Jack blushed, then they stepped out of
the car and headed to Aster’s apartment.
Aster unlocked the door and stepped inside, pausing at the closet to put his
jacket and shoes away. Jack headed straight for the couch and flopped down onto
it, smiling and stretching out until he was comfortable.
“Jack,” Aster called out after he glanced his way, “Come on, Kitten. We have a
guest coming over. Go put your things away.”
Jack whined at first, but when Aster gave him a stern look, Jack sighed and
stood, tugging off his coat and digging the stuff out of the pockets as he
headed to his and Aster’s bedroom. When he got into the room, he pulled out the
collar and the envelope, and he hesitated. Curiosity grew within him, and he
remembered Sandy (well, Jamie) telling him to read it when he had the chance,
with or without Aster.
He suddenly felt like he had his own little secret, one even kept from Aster,
and the thought both thrilled and terrified him. What would Aster do if he
found out Jack was hiding something from him? Would he be angry? Jack at first
doubted it, but that little paranoid voice in the back of his head was
beginning to convince him otherwise.
He considered leaving the note out in the open for Aster to find, but before he
could really make a decision, there was a knock on the front door and Anna was
being let in. Jack panicked. He stuffed the collar into the top drawer of
Aster's dresser, then he shoved the letter between the mattress and the box
spring, next to where he usually slept. He moved to grab his jacket so he could
toss it into the hamper just as Aster peered inside, curiosity in his eyes.
“Everything okay, Jack?” He asked him, keeping his voice low as to not startle
the teen further.
“S'fine,” Jack replied hastily, grabbing the jacket and tossing it at the
hamper, then doing the same with the scarf still stuffed into his back pocket,
“M'fine. Food?”
Aster didn't reply immediately. He stared at Jack for a long moment, but Jack
couldn't meet his eye. He wanted to glance back to where the letter was, to see
if it was sticking out, wondering if Aster had already caught on and was going
to yell at him. He flinched when a hand entered his field of vision, but Aster
only brushed his fingers against his cheek.
“Number,” he requested, stepping right in front of Jack and letting his fingers
dance down his jaw and down his arm until he was holding his hand. Jack
shuddered at the touches, and he kept his head down. He considered how he felt,
knowing quite quickly that it was probably close to six or seven... but if he
told Aster that, he would ask why. What was causing it. What was he hiding.
So he lied, probably for the first time on purpose, and he said, “F-four.”
Aster nodded quietly, wholly believing in Jack. And when he asked, “Is it
Anna?” Jack felt his heart clench and his stomach twist. He forced himself to
nod.
“Do you want me to ask her to leave?” Aster asked next, and the guilt
overwhelmed Jack.
“No.” He said immediately, squeezing Aster's hand, “I-I.... can handle it. Her.
I can handle her.”
“Are you sure? She won't take it personally, Jack.” He tried to reassure Jack,
but he shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut.
“I said it's okay. So it's okay.” He looked up at Aster, steeling himself so
that he could look into his eyes without wavering. They were practically
overfilled with trust. Trust in Jack and his words... And it made him feel even
worse. He thought about telling him about the letter....
“Boys, I'm gunna eat your stuff if you don't hurry up!” Anna called out
playfully, and Jack ducked his head and refrained from telling him.
“We're coming,” Aster called back, but he kept his eyes on Jack. Jack could
practically feel his gaze on his down turned face, and it made him sweat. But
instead of interrogating him, he merely asked, “Are you still hungry?”
“....yeah...” Jack whispered, clinging to Aster still. When the taller man
began to step away, Jack felt his heart leap and he clung to his arm, “D-don't-
-”
Aster turned to look at him, waiting for Jack to finish. Jack swallowed
thickly, still staring at the floor. His throat suddenly felt dry, his words
not coming out. He swallowed once, twice, but it still did nothing. He opened
his mouth and tried to say something, anything, but all that came out was a
wheeze.
“Jack? Look at me,” Aster commanded gently, knowing something was going wrong
for his lover. He put his hand on the back of his neck and squeezed, but when
Jack still didn't move, he pushed him back until he was sitting on the bed. He
knelt before him and put his hands on Jack's thighs.
Looking up and into his eyes, Aster whispered to him, “Jack? You with me,
kitten?”
Jack blinked twice, then jerkily nodded his head. His body was getting warmer,
he could feel another bead of sweat run down his brow, and his eyes darted to
his head of the bed before focusing back on Aster. Their fingers were laced
together, he realized, and he gave Aster a soft squeeze.
Eight.
He wanted to say it, to tell Aster how he was really feeling, but his throat
tightened and not even a gasp could escape. Aster continued to stare into his
eyes, but when he couldn't divine the answer out of him that way, he turned his
head and called out, “Anna! I think we have to call dinner short--”
“No!” Jack suddenly shouted, his voice so uncharacteristically loud that
something in the kitchen fell from Anna's hand, smashing to the ground. Jack
sucked in a shaking breath, tears beginning to form, “I'm okay! D-Don't leave!”
“Jack, you're not okay. It's fine, baby, just let me make you comfortable
again, okay?” Aster begged him, letting go of his hands to squeeze his thighs
instead, and Jack sucked in another rough breath.
“Don't make her leave,” Jack whimpered, his hands beginning to shake and his
heart pounding, “N-Not again... I need to... for you...”
Aster huffed and pressed his forehead against Jack's knee, saying softly, “You
don't need to do anything for me... Jack, I... You're very precious to me, kit.
I don't want to see you suffering like this. Let me help.”
Jack swallowed thickly, still shaking, and he nodded his head once more,
“Just... f-five minutes...”
“Five minutes.” Aster agreed, and he kissed Jack's forehead, “Let me tell Anna.
Okay?”
“Okay...”
“Okay.” Aster squeezed Jack's thighs again, then stood and exited the room, his
voice only barely audible from the dining room. Now alone, Jack all but lunged
for the side of the bed, reaching between the mattress and the box spring. He
yanked out the letter, knowing he was going to get nowhere until the guilt was
off of his shoulders and the punishment over with. He heard the front door
open, Anna's heels tapping, and then it shut. When Aster's heavy footfalls
began creeping towards him, the tears began to fall, and he held up the letter
without even looking to see if Aster was there to see it or not.
Seconds later, the steps stopped. Aster looked over Jack's form, his head
ducked, the letter raised, with tears dripping down his nose and onto his
jeans. Worry was the first thing that hit Aster, and he reached out for the
letter.
“I'm sorry,” Jack apologized the moment the paper was out of his hands. Aster
frowned and looked down at the folded paper, knowing already from the texture
of it and the monogram on the top corner that it was from Sandy. Aster looked
between the letter and Jack, then silently began to unfold it. With each noise
the paper made, Jack tensed up more.
A long pause stretched between them. Jack's tears continued to fall. When Aster
was done reading the letter, he asked in slight amusement, “Is this what was
bothering you? This whole time?”
Jack didn't know how to answer at first, but he figured the truth was best. He
nodded. Aster sighed. He almost sounded... relieved.
“Baby,” He started, but then he broke off into a soft chuckle, “Jack, this
is...” He chuckled again, then he knelt before Jack again and laid the open
piece of paper on Jack's lap, text facing him.
Jack sniffled and lifted a hand to wipe his tears away, trying to read the
paper through the bleariness, and slowly the words became clear.
     'Jack,
     First of all, I want to tell you that I am proud of you. It takes a
     lot to open up to a complete stranger, especially one who doesn't
     respond. I am honored to be your Psychiatrist, temporary as it may
     be.
     Now before we go any further with our sessions, I want you to think
     about a few things. Please complete the following list with honest
     answers and bring this back to me next week:
                                1. How often have you had coitus with
                                   strangers in the past month?
                                2. Have you recently been tested for any
                                   STIs?
                                3. Do you participate in coitus with Aster
                                   for the same reasons as with strangers?
     You don't have to share your answers with Aster (except for the
     second one. I suggest you share that with him immediately, especially
     if you're intimate) but I implore you to trust him with this
     information.
     Jack, Aster is my very close friend. He means a lot to me, and he
     means a lot to many others as well. I want you to know that he is not
     all you have, now. Anyone Aster loves, we love, too. Please trust
     him. I know it will be hard for you, and I know you might be
     uncomfortable with emotional intimacy, but there is no greater person
     than he to toe the waters with.
     And in case you did share this with Aster; don't let this get to your
     head, you giant teddy bear.'
Jack's brow furrowed, his worry turning to confusion. This was what he had
hidden?
Aster was still chuckling, his forehead on Jack's knee, and when he saw the
teen had finished reading, he sighed and straightened himself up, kissing
Jack's cheek.
“Jack, you know you can keep a secret from me, right?” Aster smiled, and Jack
looked at him in surprise. “If you didn't want me to read this letter, that's
fine. You can have your privacy, kitten. Just tell me what you don't want me to
look at, okay?”
Jack's mouth opened, and he asked in a breath, “H-how?”
Aster shrugged, and he picked up the letter and said, “Just show me this and
tell me, 'Hey, this is from Sanderson. Please don't read it,' and I won't,
okay?”
Jack looked at the paper, his heart racing, and he asked him, “C-can I...?”
Aster handed the paper over, letting Jack take it and fold it back up once
more. He held it in his hands, looking down at the torn edge of it. He slowly
lifted it higher, so that it was directly in front of Aster, and he said in a
shaking voice, “Th-this... uh.... I... got it from Sandy. Don't read it...
please?”
“Of course, Jack,” Aster replied with a smile, bringing a hand up to cradle his
cheek, “I won't touch it.”
The air between them seemed to relax, and Jack's shoulders drooped a moment
later. Their eyes stayed connected, and Jack lowered the letter to his lap.
Aster's thumb stroked his cheek, and Jack tilted his head into his touch.
“You love me?” Jack suddenly whispered, and that calm was replaced by surprised
embarrassment. Aster's hand grew clammy and he pulled away. Jack thought for a
second that this was a negative reaction, until he realized that he was
blushing underneath that dark complexion of his.
A knock on the front door cut in, and Aster frowned. “Five minutes are up,” he
told Jack, looking him in the eyes again, “Do you want her to come back in?”
Jack nodded, feeling a lot better now, and when Aster got up to let her in,
Jack stood as well and he sat the letter on the top of the nightstand, still
folded up. From the bedroom, he heard Anna come inside again, saying in a
pleasant voice, “Hello, Aster! So nice to visit you. Oh, is that food on the
table?”
Jack immediately winced, guilt welling up inside of him. He completely forgot
about the dinner Anna brought. The dinner she bought. If she didn't spite him
by now, she definitely would after this. Timidly, he headed for the doorway,
looking out at Anna as she made her way across the apartment to sit at the
table. Her eyes caught his, and she sent him a pleasant smile.
“Hello, Jack!” She greeted, as if she hadn't been here before, “Are you
hungry?”
Jack made a face, but he nodded and slowly stepped out into the room. Aster was
by his side a moment later, his hand resting on the small of his back.
Together, they moved towards the table, and they sat beside one another. Jack
had a sandwich in front of him, and Aster was just starting to dip into his
soup—which looked lukewarm at best. It didn't even steam.
“Um,” Jack piped up, catching their attention, but he kept his eyes on his
sandwich, “M'sorry... about...” He gestured at the food, his cheeks darkening
in shame.
“Oh, don't fret about it, Jack!” Anna replied happily, a smile spreading on her
lips, “I took my chips out there with me, so I'm good.”
Aster reached under the table and squeezed his hand. Jack looked his way, and
Aster smiled at him.
“Eat up, kitten.”
 
_____________
 
Late in the night, Aster stepped out onto the balcony, cell phone pressed to
his ears and his eyes glued to the sleeping form of Jack on the bed just
inside. He slept curled up under his one blanket, his hair mussed and a
peaceful look on his face. Aster's heart raced whenever he looked at him.
The line was picked up, and a groggy voice murmured through the receiver,
“Hello? Who's this?”
Aster sighed, and he said softly into the phone, “It's Aster. I said I'd call
back.”
The sleep in the other man's voice cleared up immediately, and the sound of
shuffling could be heard until the man replied, “Ah... I had been waiting for
you to call. I didn't expect it to be so late, however.”
“It's been a long day.” Aster huffed out, and he turned his back to Jack so he
could lean on the railing, “You said we needed to talk about something. We
didn't get the chance to last time. I don't know how long I have tonight,
either, so talk, North.”
A sigh from the other end of the line, and North slowly began.
“The first time we met Jack was at the scene of a homicide. He was fourteen and
he watched a man break into his home and massacre his parents. He was in a
severe state of shock. He managed to hide in his parent's closet just in time,
but it gave him a front row seat to the carnage. We took him in for
questioning, but we couldn't get a word out of him. We tried three different
psychiatrists, but nothing came of it and he ended up in foster care. We kept
tabs on him, but one day six months later, he vanished.
“We realized he had been kidnapped by one of his foster parents. Our efforts
were put into finding him and bringing him home safely, but... what that guy
did to him stuck. We had to bring in another handful of psychiatrists, trying
to find someone who would work, someone who can make this kid normal again. In
the midst of our searching, we found his current Psychiatrist, Kozmotis
Pitchiner-Black. The first year and a half under his guidance seemed to work.
Jack stopped running away and... well... selling himself, and he even started
to speak a little again.
“But then we... just so happened to conduct a drug test on him.”
Aster looked back at Jack, making sure he was still sleeping, and he let out a
breath when he saw he was.
“This guy was drugging him?” Aster asked, and North hummed in confirmation.
“But we couldn't prove it. For all we knew, Jack was getting it himself
somehow. We had nothing to pin it to him with. We managed to get him clean, but
the longer he stayed with Pitch, the more... messed up he became. Bruises,
cuts, scars... By that time, we were doing all we could to keep the two
separated. But it wasn't easy, especially since Jack kept evading us and
running straight to him.”
“You're kidding,” Aster whispered, but North replied negatively.
“I'm not. I wish I was... He was suffering from some intense Stockholm
Syndrome, or he was still itching for it. But one day, maybe a year and a half
ago, he was just... gone. We don't know what happened, and Pitch certainly
won't tell us a thing. We think they must have gotten into some sort of fight,
or maybe Jack realized just what was happening... All we know is, from that
point on, we started finding him in corners or alleyways, trying to sell
himself. Well, so we believe. If there's one thing he learned from Pitch, it
was how to cover his tracks.”
Aster cleared his throat, shame welling inside of him. He didn't forget that he
had once been a customer of Jack's as well... but look at them now. Surely this
was different.
“Why tell me this?” Aster asked, his voice remarkably even for all he had been
told. He certainly felt like he was about to break down, but he wasn't going to
with North on the other end of the phone. If he didn't feel absolutely blessed
to have found Jack at the point he did, he certainly would now.
“I think it will be important,” North tried to explain, hesitance in his voice,
“I'm certainly not going to say a word about Jack's current whereabouts, but
Pitch tends to figure things out himself. I'm not saying he's going to hunt you
down, but... please be careful, Aster. Pitch is not a man you want to make an
enemy out of. He has many connections. He's going to find Jack, and he's not
going to take no for an answer. I want you to be ready.”
“Ready for what? It sounds like I'm in danger...” Aster mumbled, and North gave
a lengthy pause before he admitted:
“You are.”
 
***** The only chapter you probably won't like *****
Chapter Summary
     Well there ain't porn and its a bit short but... plot, right?
Kozmotis sat in his smoking chair, a glass of brandy in one hand and a
cigarette in the other. The large window facing the thin wooded area just
behind his home and the moon that was rising above the treetops stood open, the
drapes billowing beside them, just long enough to almost touch his knees. The
incompetent man that North was had called and told him that a newbie had
released Jack, and that they couldn't track him. This was a few nights ago.
Pitch let him know explicitly what he thought of that, and North had hung up on
him after declaring they had no evidence to hold Jack anyways. No, there was
evidence. There had always been evidence. Pitch had been sure of it.
He took a pull from the cigarette first, and when the smoke curled from his
nostrils, the brandy took its turn down his throat, settling instead in his
stomach than his lungs. Either way, the fire that both it and the nicotine
created in him was a comforting kind of sting.
He needed to get Jack back, he told himself. There was no telling what the
crazed teen would do when left to his own devices. It had only been a miracle
that he had stayed with him the short while he had. Pitch had done all he could
to help the poor boy, and he had only that to rely on to keep him safe. Safe
for both himself and any others foolish enough to be within arms reach. The
little vixen had a face any grown man would pity and a heart as black as
Pitch's name implied, and he was absolutely certain Jack would do next to
anything to get what he desired.
Kozmotis hoped upon all else that he would finally get his hands on the deluded
boy, that he could finish what he had started and return his mental state to
something mirroring normalcy. He knew he would not be finding the boy whilst
sitting in his smoking chair and overlooking the woods, but it had already
grown dark, and if Jack had found a hole for him to rest in, there would be no
point in looking for him. He was not a man to waste time so desperately. He
would bide his time and wait for him to show again. The little whore would end
up in the hands of North and his men soon enough, and then Pitch would finally
have him.
He finished his brandy first. The cigarette was close behind it. He squashed
the butt of it into the tray on the arm of his chair, then he stood and
collected his mess, dusting off the tray and cleaning out the glass. He would
head to bed for now. When morning came, he would resume his search for Jack.
He passed by his calendar on the way to bed and stopped, frowning when he
realized that it would be Monday tomorrow. Fine, he would attend class first.
Then he would look for Jack. He hurried off to bed, changing himself into
clothes comfortable enough for sleep, brushing his teeth dutifully, and
methodically checked Jack's bedroom. He had always a wish that the boy would
merely sneak back in one day, to see him curled up in the blankets and snoozing
away. He would trap him the moment he saw him back, of course, but wouldn't
that just make life so much easier? Still, like every other night, the room was
empty and untouched, and Pitch closed the door once again before he slipped
into his own bed, tugging the blankets up to his chest and falling asleep as
quickly as one with too much on their mind could.
The next morning he awoke more tired than he had been going to sleep. He got up
anyways, his clock telling him he had an hour before the lecture began. He
showered, brushed his teeth, dressed himself and ate, and every time he had to
pass by Jack's room, he couldn't help himself from checking inside. Empty,
empty, empty again. The disappointment should have been dull by now, but it
felt like a fresh strike against a bruise every time he found it the same. He
managed to make it to his car without any further incidents or upsets, and he
managed to make it to the campus all the same. He took his briefcase from the
trunk, made his way across the campus to his class, and slowly set up his
things, preparing for the two lectures he had that day.
As it neared the time for his class to begin, students began slowly filing in.
This was his more favorite class, Psychology 103. These young men and women
knew what they were doing in life, and that was his profession. They would be
the future Psychologists and Psychiatrists in the world, doing good and helping
people. Any student in any other class of his was merely taking it to fulfill
the class requirements. His seats first filled with his gold star students—and
those who merely happened to show up on time with nothing else to do. He leaned
against his desk as he waited for more and more seats to fill, occasionally
smiling or greeting a few of the students. And then he walked in.
“Jamie Bennett,” Kozmotis all but purred out, and Jamie gave him a bright,
toothy grin as he threw his stuff onto his table.
“Hello, Doctor Pitchiner!” He replied jovially. His bright attitude and golden
heart could make even the darkest and coldest of rooms feel warm and inviting.
Granted, he was just an overall positive person, a bonifide 'good egg'. No one
could look at Jamie twice without smiling. The little brunet went up to Pitch's
side to speak with him, his voice a bit more subdued to keep the other students
from really listening in, though they probably would be anyways.
“How has the internship been going, my boy?” Kozmotis asked, and Jamie's face
lit up even more than before. Honestly, the kid could be shitting rainbows and
leprechauns and he'd still grin.
“It's been so amazing, Doctor Pitchiner! I've learned so much under my new
boss. I still can't believe I got the spot, too. Thank you for that
recommendation letter, by the way! Doctor Sanderson said himself that had been
what pushed his final decision. I swear, I won't let you down, either.” Jamie
promised, and Kozmotis' inquisitive eyes sparkled at the name of Jamie's boss.
“Sanderson? You're working under him, then? Well, I hope you had a year or two
of ASL under your belt...” He said slowly, but Jamie scoffed at him and waved
away his worries with a carefree hand.
“Please! I've been using ASL since my little sister's been born. Hard of
hearing, but that wouldn't have mattered anyways, her attention is way too
scattered to focus on anything like words in the first place.” He chuckled,
stuffing his hands into his pockets, “I wish I could tell you about all the
stuff I've seen, but, y'know--”
“Patient confidentiality. Yes, I completely understand,” Kozmotis hummed with a
smirk, and he patted Jamie's little head before he complimented him, “You are a
good little minion, my boy. You'll make a wonderful doctor.”
Jamie looked as if the whole world just cracked open and spilled out its
treasures for him and him alone, and Kozmotis could handle no more of it. “Go
on, shoo. Back to your desk!” Jamie chuckled and did as told, hurrying back to
his seat, surrounded by his less astounding friends who should feel downright
blessed to have Jamie's good graces.
Who was he kidding? Anyone with a face and a beating heart had his good graces.
He began his lecture moments later, ended up scolding a student for showing up
late again, and he dismissed the class with a chapter to read and an assignment
online to complete, which earned him a few muttered groans. At the end of it
all, he saw Jamie answering his phone with a smile--
And then it immediately turned serious, any hints of optimistic abandon gone.
His voice stayed soothing and calm, and his friends immediately gave him the
space he needed. Kozmotis, more curious than worried, lingered behind as he
cleaned his things up. Truthfully, he had to book it to the next class in order
to catch his next lecture, but this felt more important.
Jamie's voice drifted in and out of Kozmotis' range of hearing, but he gathered
enough bits to figure he was now speaking to a client of his or Sanderson's.
This just made it all the more interesting.
“Take a deep breath for me, okay? That's it, now another. Good, good job, now
tell me again, nice and slow. Uh huh... Okay... I see... No, no, this is why we
gave you our numbers. This is fine, I promise you. Well, it's the middle of the
day, you know, of course I'm not doing anything. I promise, Jack-” Kozmotis
dropped his suitcase altogether, “-You're not bothering me. Tell me more.
Mhm... Right.... Oh, I think I understand... Yes... Okay, how about this...”
Jamie's voice retreated along with him, heading towards the door to the room,
and Kozmotis abandoned his things to follow him, his eyes wide and his heart
racing. This couldn't be the same Jack. There was no way someone like Jamie
ended up with the boy! He followed the brunet out into the open world, and even
down the stairs, all the while listening to him speak.
“No, no, I'll come to you, okay? I won't stay long, I promise, but I want to
make sure you're okay.... If you're worried about him, I can just call and ask.
He'll understand, Jack. Yes, I'm sure. Okay, good, now I just need your
address...” He paused, and Kozmotis almost ran into him. Jamie began to dig in
his bag, trying to locate a pen it seemed, and Kozmotis coolly whipped one out
of his breast pocket, holding it out to Jamie who gasped and took it. He looked
over his shoulder at Kozmotis, smiling at him, then turned back and said,
“Okay, go ahead.”
He wrote down an address. Kozmotis' eyes tracked the words and the numbers.
They seared into his mind, and now Kozmotis knew where he was. He knew where
Jack was.
If it was his Jack, he reminded himself. He couldn't go barging in, guns a-
blazing. He had to be sure.
“I'll be there in ten. I swear! If I'm not, I'll call you back and give you an
update, okay?” He chuckled, then said his goodbyes and hung up, continuing down
the stairs. Kozmotis followed after him a few more steps, and Jamie finally
noticed him. The brunet stopped and looked up at him, confusion on his face,
and he asked him bluntly, “Doctor, are you following me?”
“No.” Kozmotis lied first, but Jamie gave him a look, and Kozmotis suddenly
felt caught, “Perhaps. Who were you speaking with?”
Jamie's brows rose at the question, and with a smile, he made a gesture of
zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key. He winked at Kozmotis, and the
man immediately understood. Confidentiality. He bristled at the damned law for
a moment, and his anger mustn't have been well hidden since Jamie's smile
turned to one of surprise.
“Doctor?” He voiced again, taking another step back, and Pitch almost wanted to
reach out, grab his arm, and shake it out of him. Was it his Jack? Was it his
Jack? He wanted to scream it at the boy, but instead he took a breath and
forced himself to calm.
“Jamie,” He began, his voice smooth and unwavering, “It is very important that
I know just who you were speaking with. I... cannot divulge much information in
public, but I assure you, it is for your own safety that I know exactly who it
is you are seeing.”
Jamie's brows rose even more at that, and he hesitated for a long,
understandable moment. Pitch was his professor, the man he should trust with
any Psychology questions, or any questions about his internship and patients.
However, Sanderson was his boss, and that law was very real for anyone looking
to be in the business. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Jamie took
another step back, then another, and he decided awkwardly, “I'll... I'll just
be on my way now, Professor. I'm sorry, I really need to get to him...”
“Jamie...” Kozmotis said in a warning tone, but Jamie was turned and running
away a moment later. Kozmotis gritted his teeth and shouted out, “Jamie
Bennett!” but the brunet still didn't stop or hesitate. He merely hurried along
to the bus stop, leaving Kozmotis to stand at the bottom of the stairs in
furious silence.
Shit. Now he was late for his next class.
 
===============================================================================
 
Jack was a puddle of tears and tremors by the time Jamie had made it to the
apartment. Nothing truly significant had happened to set the teen off like
this, but having someone there, even if it wasn't Aster, was comforting, even
when there was nothing specific that was wrong.
Jamie had entered the apartment with his cell phone on speaker, Aster's voice
immediately addressing Jack and explaining to him that having a friend—and he
had called Jamie Jack's friend—over was no issue for Aster. He reassured the
young man that he would be home in a few hours, and that Jamie could stay for
as long as Jack needed or wanted him to. He had to go back to work soon after
that, but Jack was instantly calmer about having the college student in Aster's
apartment, and they sit on the couch side by side, Jamie with an arm around
Jack and Jack with his face pressed against his shoulder as tears continued to
fall.
“I d-don't get it... I wrote in the dream journal Sandy gave me...” Jack
whimpered, his arms finding their way around Jamie's middle, enjoying the way
he felt so stable, so warm against him. Jamie's hand that rubbed at his back
was easing away almost all the stress knotting in his muscles. The boy truly
was divine, and Jack couldn’t feel any more grateful towards him for coming on
such short notice.
“The dream journal won’t make them go away immediately. Therapy like that and
Doctor Sanderson's other methods take time. It is a slow healing process, but
we will be here for you for the entirety of it.” Jamie reassured him,
continuing to rub and comfort. Jack's tears soon slowed, until he was only
shuddering and not sobbing. He managed to straighten himself, though he
couldn’t bring his hands to release Jamie's shirt. It didn’t really look like
that was a problem for the brunet anyways.
“I'm sorry…” Jack whispered, and Jamie at first rolled his eyes playfully at
him before he shook his head.
“You have no reason to be. In fact, your timing was perfect. My class had just
ended when you called.” Jamie told him, and that seemed to pique Jack’s
interests.
“Class? You… go to school still?” he asked Jamie in a quiet voice, a small hint
of jealousy at how normal Jamie's life seemed… but Jack didn’t really think
himself cut out for something like that anyways.
“Yeah. I'm only Doctor Sanderson's assistant. He took me on as an intern, you
know? I’m getting experience and credits by working under him—not to mention I
actually get paid, but don’t tell the school board that.” He winked at Jack,
then giggled a little. Jack smiled awkwardly, not entirely understanding what
was so funny, but Jamie's happiness was infectious.
“How old are you?” Jack asked next, and Jamie flushed in embarrassment before
shrugging.
“I’m almost twenty one now, but I still look like I belong in grade school. I
never lost my baby face, and while my mom says I’ll appreciate it in the
future, I’m definitely not appreciating it now.”
Jack chuckled at that and shook his head, then he said in a soft voice, “It's
not bad… you're really cute, you know.”
Jamie blushed a bit more and smiled shyly, his eyes dropping to his lap for a
moment before he focused back on Jack. “I appreciate the compliment, Jack. But
you called me here to talk, so why don’t we talk? Anything said here won’t be
shared with anyone, not even Doctor Sanderson if you don’t want it to be. Heck,
I won’t even tell Aster.”
Jack hesitated, so Jamie decided to go for something that Sanderson would be
looking at anyway. Taking Jack's hand from his shirt and squeezing it
reassuringly, Jamie asked him, “Do you think you can let me read your dream
journal?”
This brought on a strange reaction. Jack's cheeks suddenly burst bright red and
his body stiffened, and he looked as if he had just been caught doing something
naughty. Jamie quickly amended his question, saying encouragingly, “It's okay
if you don’t want me to! You can just read a passage to me if you want. Or you
can just tell me about your last dream, since that’s why you called me. Would
you rather do that?”
Jack's eyes flitted away as he thought about it, his hand squeezing Jamie’s for
a moment longer before he nodded, meeting Jamie's eyes, “I-I… yeah, okay… but
it’s um… it’s a little… embarrassing.”
“Don’t worry, Jack, my lips are sealed. Scouts honor.” Jamie promised him,
holding up his first two fingers and grinning. Jack fleetingly smiled back,
then he looked down at his lap and thought about where he should begin.
Slowly, quietly, Jack began to tell Jamie, “I-I started… in bed. I was laying
down… and uh… Aster was… um…” he gestured with his hands, and with the way
Jamie's face flushed, he seemed to catch on, “yeah, and I was… liking it and
stuff…” he cleared his throat, still blushing, “But then I c-closed my eyes and
I… I was calling out his name… I heard him laugh but it… wasn’t him. When I
opened my eyes, it was… it…” he began to shake, just remembering the twisted
face of Pitch bent over him, sneering at him like he were some kind of
disgusting slut he was only reluctantly taking. He had been able to feel the
man pounding in and out of him in his dreams, and it felt like he was tearing
apart. Jack took in a shaking breath, tears coming again, but he forced himself
to continue.
“I… I tried to get away… from him… but he grabbed me by my wrists and held me
down. He was… hurting me. He was r-ra—“ his voice went dead, and Jamie put a
hand on his shoulder. They stayed quiet for a long moment, so Jamie moved
closer, close enough that their knees touched.
“Jack,” he whispered to him, and the teen startled and looked at Jamie, his
eyes wide and his heart racing. Jack felt as if he didn’t know where he was,
though in the back of his mind he was telling himself that he was home and that
he was safe. The rest of his mind couldn’t believe it, couldn’t trust such a
nice daydream like that. He must be gone. He must be elsewhere, he told
himself. He must have taken too much money from one person and went home with
them. This has to be a hallucination. Any moment he would wake up back in
Pitch's bed or in a stranger's with too much pain in his backside to ignore and
just enough shame to keep his mouth shut about it.
“Jack?” Jamie's voice came again, venturing, and Jack's focus snapped on him
again. No. This was real. But he didn’t want it to be. He needed to stop
thinking, he needed to be gone. He needed someone to hold him down and trap him
and make his mind go blank. He needed Aster, but Aster wasn’t here. Only Jamie
was. Only…
Jack was suddenly on his knees in front of Jamie, his heart racing with panic
and shame and fear and his mind begging him to just stop thinking for ten
minutes, to just turn over and let someone have his way with him. He wanted
pleasure. He needed to experience that irreplaceable high with orgasm. He
needed a second body pressed against him and reminding him this was all he was
good for
Jamie, bless his heart, looked more confused about the situation than
anticipating it. Even when Jack let go of his shirt and hand to take his nails
down Jamie's clothed thighs, a seductive smirk sliding into place on his cry-
reddened face.
“Fuck me,” Jack whispered hotly, and Jamie nearly sprung to his feet at that if
it weren’t for Jack clamping his hands down on his thighs, trapping him to the
couch.
“J-Jack?” Jamie squeaked, his heart racing so hard it was making his face beet
red.
“Fuck me. Come on, I know you want to.” He purred, sliding his hands up and in,
his fingers pressing down on the front of his jeans until Jamie was squirming.
His hands shook and darted to Jack's shoulder to try and push him away, but
Jack caught his wrist with surprising coordination and tugged his hand to his
mouth. He sucked two of Jamie's fingers past his lips, moaning against them and
making a show of licking at them. He could feel Jamie's pulse on his tongue
from the pad of his fingertip.
“You want me,” he whispered to Jamie when the brunet managed to wrestle his
hand away, his face somehow blank despite everything that was happening.
“You're spiraling,” Jamie said evenly, his face red despite himself, but his
eyes void of any kind of interest—though the tenderness behind them was still
there. “Jack, tell me what you need.”
“I need you in me,” Jack rasped, the words spilling from his mouth confident
and practiced, unlike most of his other words or phrases. They didn’t mumble
together, his voice wasn’t quiet. He was almost cocky, “No one will know,
right? You won’t tell anyone. I won’t either. I won’t utter a word if you just
shove your dick down my throat. Give it to me. Please—“
He grew desperate, the edge in his tone, and Jamie’s brow twitched. He took in
a breath through his nose. This was treading dangerous territory. Now more than
ever did he wish Doctor Sanderson was there to tell him what to say, or maybe
even Doctor Pitchiner…
No, if he was going to be a Psychiatrist, he was going to figure this out on
his own. He was Sanderson's assistant, but he was also Jack's (non-licensed)
doctor. He needed to do what was best for Jack.
“Don’t feed his addiction,” Pitchiner's voice whispered in his mind's ear.
“Give him what he needs, not what he demands.” Sanderson's fluttering hands
registered in his head both as visuals and as a non-permanent voice.
“Tell me what you need.” Jamie asked him again, but when more distasteful
begging poured from Jack's lips, Jamie figured he would have to decide what he
needed on his own. Take what Jack was begging for and go from there.
“Sex?” Jamie asked, and Jack seemed to perk up at that, nodding and begging and
pleading with Jamie to just please fuck him just use him like the replaceable
filth he was. Jamie stared down at Jack, watched the way his hands would play
at his pants, though the more invasive touches were actually relatively
fleeting. He tugged at Jamie's clothes, but didn’t try to remove them. He dug
his nails into his thighs, nuzzled his knee, promised him a good time, but he
didn’t move to prove it.
“You don’t want me.” Jamie told Jack, who was all protests and denial, “You
don’t want to sleep with me. What about Aster?”
“He can join,” Jack replied quickly, “Anything, anything for this. I need this.
Just give it to me.”
Jamie continued to stare, struggling, but then he found himself nodding.
“Alright. I'll sleep with you. Until Aster comes home.”
Jack looked as if he had just been given the world on a golden platter—and yet
a look of utter betrayal, of fear and distrust was tucked away in those round
eyes.
“But I want to do it on the bed.” Jamie bargained, and Jack sprang to his feet,
dragging Jamie with him as he pulled the other along. He flopped back onto the
bed, and Jamie awkwardly clambered on top of him. Jack was taller than Jamie,
he had to be at least half a foot so, and it made it weird to be stretched over
the man as he was. Still, he went with it, and he pushed Jack further up the
bed until his head was on the pillows and the blankets had been kicked away.
“Comfortable?” Jamie asked him in what he hoped was a seductive whisper, and
Jack nodded his head all too eagerly, already straining in his jeans, already
begging with his body for touch and less clothing. Jamie bit his lip, and he
slowly began tugging the blankets towards himself, making sure he had a good
amount of them. Jack began to notice, and his eyes flickered up to Jamie in
curiosity, but before he could ask or move any more, Jamie lunged at him.
Jack yelped loudly, the bed creaking and bouncing a tad more violently than it
ever had before. Jack put up a good fight, but Jamie was much more determined.
He had managed to swaddle Jack in the blanket, wrapping him up so tight Jamie
fancied the thought of trying the method on a burrito. When Jamie pulled away
from Jack, it was with a victorious grin, even as Jack whined and squirmed and
cried out pitifully.
“W-what are you doing?” he questioned Jamie, sounding absolutely lost, “J-J-
Ja—urgh…”
“You can’t even say my name,” Jamie pointed out, crossing his arms and still
sitting on the now restrained Jack, “You don’t want this, Jack. You're falling
back to your old methods of unhealthy coping. Well, more like blatant
avoidance.”
“No… just… just touch me! Let me go and touch me!” Jack complained, but the
more he struggled and the more he realized he wasn’t going anywhere, he began
to feel relieved that this was how it turned out. Jamie wasn’t fucking him.
Jamie wasn’t taking advantage…
But he certainly was now laying beside him, though on top of the blankets, with
an arm wrapped around Jack's torso. Jack eyed him warily, and Jamie gave him a
supportive if not wary smile.
“There. I'm touching you.” He told Jack, and Jack squinted at him, “Now tell me
what you need.”
“I need you to…. To…” Jack’s fight was giving out, and the sudden need to be
blissed out of his mind was being replaced with the dark thoughts he was trying
to keep at bay. His wide eyes turned sullen and his body went completely limp,
but Jamie kept his attention by rubbing a hand against his cheek. That small
bit of human contact amongst his comfortable if not a bit too warm prison was
grounding.
“You don’t need me.” He told Jack, and it felt like the words were meant to
carry more weight than Jack could register, “You don’t need anyone. You don’t
need Doctor Sanderson or Aster or anyone else.”
“I need Aster.” Jack argued quietly, his words mumbling together again, but
this was a lot more pleasant than where Jack had been before, on his knees and
begging Jamie for terrible things.
“You do not.” Jamie stayed resolute, his voice firm, but kind. “What does your
body need right now. Sex? Or comfort?”
“Sex.” Jack quickly answered, but after a long silence of Jamie just staring at
him, stroking his cheek and not stepping down, Jack mumbled shyly, “or… maybe
just… a distraction…”
“A distraction from what?” Jamie prodded, and Jack shifted in the blankets,
though more to get comfortable, not to escape.
“The bad thoughts. The bad feelings. The hallucinations.” Jack answered in
clipped words, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t wanna feel… me. I don’t
wanna be me. I wanna be happy. I wanna feel good.”
“You can feel good a different way,” Jamie told him, “You just have to find
something you love to do. Something that makes you happy.”
“But m'not good at anything but this…” Jack mumbled, and Jamie's hand went to
Jack's chest, propping himself up so he could look into his eyes.
“You don’t have to be good at something to enjoy it. I love singing, you know,
but my voice nearly splits glass.” Jamie offered, and Jack blinked at him once
before he snorted in delight.
“What? Don’t believe me?” Jamie tested him, grinning, and Jack nodded quickly,
his own eyes brightening up, “Alright, but you brought this on yourself! Ahem—“
“No!” Jack gasped, squirming in his cocoon again, unable to cover his ears.
Jamie fell into delighted giggles and Jack joined him happily. When they both
settled, Jamie laid back down and sighed.
“So I'll sing in the shower sometimes. Or in the car. Or I’ll sing to myself
when I'm sad or stressed. It gives me something to do, something to focus on,
and it makes me happy. It makes me feel good.”
Jack stared at Jamie for a bit longer, Jamie laying comfortably at his side,
stroking his cheek once more. When they met eyes, Jack couldn’t help but
mention, “You didn’t get hard.”
“Huh?” Jamie blinked, surprised at the sudden topic.
“I was touching you everywhere. You didn’t get hard.” Jack clarified, and Jamie
blushed a bit at that.
“Oh. Yeah.” He shifted where he laid, looking down at the blankets now, but not
saying anything further. When Jack tried to nudge him, tried to prompt him to
speak, Jamie peered up at him, then blushed more and cleared his throat.
“You’re attractive, really. Definitely my type. But I'm—ah… I doubt I’m yours.”
Jack kept his eyes level with Jamie, and in a flat voice, he told him, “Jamie,
I'm a slut.”
“Jack!” Jamie admonished, swatting at his arm before his face flushed and he
began apologizing, rubbing where he hit him, “Don’t say that about yourself.
You had a… handful of encounters, but it doesn’t define you.”
Jack blushed and shifted, but he continued to press, “Mm... Still… I don’t have
a type. So long as you have a dick I'd fuck you.”
“Well…” Jamie made another face, and slowly Jack began to catch on. His hand
jerked, trying to reach for Jamie's crotch, but the blankets held strong. Jamie
blushed when he realized what Jack had just tried to do.
“No way. I felt something. I know I felt something!” Jack claimed, and Jamie
shifted a bit more before he sat up.
“Probably my packer…” he mumbled, and Jack’s eyes grew wide and round, along
with his mouth as it fell open, “Don’t get me wrong, your forward methods are…
enticing, but being… well…” he gestured to his pants, and Jack's eyes flickered
down to them before snapping back up to his face, “I have nothing to react.”
“Y-You’re…” Jack began, his voice thick and his face unchanging. Jamie seemed
to cringe, and he covered Jack mouth just as he began to blurt out, “You’re
tran—mmf!”
“Don’t just shout it!” he scolded, even though there was no one else in the
apartment to hear. Jack squinted at Jamie, then he fatly licked his hand,
getting the brunet to jerk back in disgust, “Jack--!”
“I'd still let you fuck me.” Jack blurted out, and Jamie's first reaction was
to be offended… but with the way Jack’s face only held serious honesty, Jamie
wondered if he meant something more by that. Deciding Jack could be the one and
only guy who would be allowed to say it, Jamie ducked his head and shrugged.
“Thanks… I think…” he mumbled, smiling a little, “um… I hope this doesn’t
change anything in our Patient-Doctor's Assistant relationship. I really want
you to trust me, Jack, and I know some people… don’t.”
“I trust you.” Jack said with certainty, and Jamie blushed at how much raw
truth was behind his words. They met eyes for a moment, Jamie offering Jack a
smile.
“Thank you, Jack.” He whispered to him. Jack smiled back, then shifted a bit
more in his confines before whining.
“Lay back down?” he asked, batting his eyelashes at Jamie until the brunet
rolled his eyes and settled back down beside the other, an arm on his chest and
a hand stroking his cheek. Jack smiled and closed his eyes. He stayed this was
for a few minutes, silent and breathing softly, and Jamie thought for a moment
that he had fallen asleep.
That is, until Jack whispered to him, “Will you kiss me?”
“No.” Jamie replied without hesitation, “That’s what Aster is for. Though I
think tonight you should both abstain from sex.”
“What?” Jack squawked, turning his head to look at Jamie with wide eyes, “Why?”
“Because him enforcing you to seek sex after an episode like today's is only
going to make it worse. This isn’t a healthy way to cope, Jack, and it may
interfere with Doctor Sanderson's methods. Just… try? Please?”
Jack stared at him for a bit longer, pouting still, but when Jamie didn’t
budge, Jack actually scowled and stuck his tongue out at the brunet. “Fine,” he
huffed, not at all happy about this agreement, “but… only if you do something
for me.”
“Jack—“ Jamie sighed out, exasperated. He thought Jack was going to try and
bargain a kiss or a touch or something much worse from him, and just as he
opened his mouth to accuse him, Jack made his offer.
“I’ll try if you tell me… tell me what Aster said was true.” He said, and Jamie
fell silent. His mind raced, wondering what Aster could have said to him in
Jamie's presence that could have caused Jack to become doubtful.
“I’m… What was it that he said?” Jamie decided to ask, and Jack looked up at
him with wide, vulnerable eyes.
“That… that you're… um… m-my friend.” Jack mumbled, his voice getting quieter
and quieter until Jamie had to lean up to hear him, despite how close he was
already. Jamie blinked, and he looked over Jack's expression—worried, helpless,
hopeful—before he realized it truly had been on his mind ever since Jamie got
there.
“Of course you're my friend.” Jamie told Jack, and he let his face show how
serious he was. His eyes were sparkling and a steadfast pout of his lips were
set, “Even if you stopped being my patient, I would want to be here for you.”
Jack smiled at Jamie, and with a breath and a set of teary eyes, he nodded at
him. “Um… can… I ask a favor?” Jamie grinned and nodded, and Jack cleared his
throat before asking, “Will you just… sleep with me? Until Aster gets home…?”
Jamie considered it. He still had class he was supposed to go to… but Jack
still needed comfort. And he wanted to be here for him, friend or patient.
Besides, all he had was History left today, and that was a class he didn’t mind
skipping.
“Alright, I will,” he decided with a smile, looking back at Jack, “but you're
staying as you are.”
Jack whined a little and huffed, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he asked, “Will
you open the window?”
Jamie chuckled and nodded, getting up from the bed and propping open the
bedroom window. A gentle breeze fluttered in, and Jamie slowly peeled off his
jacket and T-shirt, leaving himself in a black tank top and his jeans to nap
in. As he climbed into the bed, he suddenly realized just how weird this was.
Here he was, laying in another man and his boyfriend's bed, with his boyfriend.
Granted, they were doing this pioneer style, but still.
“Um… I wonder if I should just wait on the couch…?” Jamie asked, but Jack gave
him a pout and shook his head, his hands straining against the blankets as if
he wanted to grab Jamie and pull him down against him.
“You said you'd sleep with me.” He huffed, much like an indignant child, and
Jamie had to give in. Aster wasn’t really a jealous man, he told himself. And
this situation would be easy to explain. It wasn’t like they were naked, and
Jamie would resolutely stay awake so he wasn’t caught out of the blue.
Well, at least that was what Jamie had told himself. What had actually ended up
happening was Jack falling asleep under his arm, and Jamie growing so
comfortable on the memory foam mattress and warm body beside him that he ended
up nodding off just minutes later. Damn his box spring and hand-me-down
mattress! If he hadn’t been so sleep deprived from discomfort, he never would
have fallen for the sinfully plush bed beneath him!
And so, when Aster arrived home two hours later with take out for dinner—and a
little extra just in case—only to find his little pet snuggled up in bed with
another, he couldn’t help but burst out in shock. And that made Jamie jump
awake and yell. And thatmade Jack gasp and fight against the blankets, winning
this time and getting himself free.
The three of them stayed put when the room fell silent, all looking at one
another in uncertain shock. Jamie was still kneeling in the bed Jack leapt out
of, and Aster had dropped the food which luckily didn’t spill all over the
floor. The first to break the silence was Jack.
“Aster!” he all but chirped, missing the touch of doubt in Aster’s eyes,
“Welcome home.” Jack walked across the room and he looked up at Aster,
desiring. The older man stared down at Jack for a moment too long, and Jack’s
little smile began to fade. “Aster?”
“What—“ Aster began, but his voice was too strong, too angry, and he paused
when Jack jerked away from him. Reigning himself in, he looked at Jamie and
demanded, “What is going on here?”
Jack looked panicked, and he all but whispered, “You… said I could… have a
friend over…”
“I did, but I didn’t expect--!” He gestured at the bed, and Jamie finally
scrambled off of it. Jack looked over at the bed, confused, and he took a step
closer to Aster.
“Erm… that is, this is just a misunderstanding!” Jamie tried to say, an
embarrassed smile on his face, “I-I’m sorry to intrude, but Jack asked me to
take a nap with him and I… I hadn’t meant to actually… you have a really nice
bed!”
Aster blinked hard, shaking his head a little and trying to understand. Jack
took another step closer to him, then he tentatively reached out and touched
his arm. When he looked over at him, he saw his eyes were wide and a little
worried, but he smiled at him all the same.
“Nothin’ happened.” He said to him quietly, “Jamie’s a good friend.”
“I’m really sorry,” Jamie apologized again, his face still red, “I-I should go,
I didn’t mean to--I'm so sorry!” he attempted to skirt around Aster, but the
bigger man sighed and caught the kid in his arm, pushing him back into the
room.
“No, I told Jack he could have a friend over,” he sighed, looking up to the
roof, “Just… put your shirt back on, kid. You can stay for dinner.”
Jamie frowned and shuffled his feet nervously. He looked over at Jack, who
nodded excitedly, then he meekly went to pick up his shirt and pull it back on.
He opened his mouth to apologize again, but Aster cut him off with a wave of
his hand.
“Don’t,” he told him, frowning, “If Jack says you two were napping then I
believe him. Though it is sort of weird that you were both in the same bed,
I'll let it go. Jack, go make drinks, k—er… babe. Green tea for me please.” He
gave Jack a kiss on the forehead, then sent him out of the bedroom with a
loving pat on his backside. Jack grinned, then hurried off to the kitchen, only
hesitating by the bags of food still on the floor. He decided to scoop those up
and put them on the dining table.
Jamie wasn't sure if he should follow after Jack, but when he saw Aster level a
look on him, he knew he was staying right where he was. Aster slowly pushed the
door almost shut, leaving just enough space for Jack to be able to spy Jamie
through the crack, though he couldn't hear their hushed voices.
Jack's curiosity was adequately piqued, and while the hot water boiled, he
gingerly crept towards the door. Jamie had his eyes glued on Aster, not
noticing Jack's advance. Soon, their voices became distinguishable.
“--And if I ever come home to find you curled up in my bed with Jack again,
mate, I swear to God a restraining order will notbe the last you get from me.”
Aster was... threatening him? Jack suddenly had the urge to burst in and defend
the brunet, wanting to pull the blame away from Jamie, but Jamie seemed to be
able to protect himself just fine.
Crossing his arms, Jamie's look of embarrassment was easily masked by cool
confidence, “Jack needed physical comfort, and being both his friend and the
assistant to his Psychiatrist, I provided it. I admit, it was... tactless, but
it did what I needed it to. Jack had been in the throes of panic and laying
with him until he fell asleep calmed him.”
“You bet your ass it was tactless,” Aster ground out. Jack couldn't tell if he
was jealous or not, and he couldn't really tell if this appealed to him, “You
and I both know the way he can get when he's looking for 'physical comfort'.”
“Are you doubting his fidelity, Aster?” Jamie asked, looking absolutely
astonished, which was impressive in itself since Aster had every right to,
considering Jack had literally been begging for Jamie's cock barely three hours
ago. Aster fell quiet for a moment too long, and Jack leaned forward, awaiting
his answer. He should be, Jack told himself. He was a total slut and Aster knew
that. That was how they met. That was how all of this came to be.
“I love Jack,” Aster said without a waver in his voice, and Jack felt his heart
almost seize in a confusing mix of happiness and wariness, “and I know he loves
me, but I also know what he's like when he's scared or desperate. I trust my
boyfriend. I don't trust your willpower.”
Jamie blinked twice at the accusation, his arms still crossed, and it looked as
if he fell deep in thought. A few moments passed before Jamie said to Aster, “I
wouldn't rape him.”
“Perhaps consciously.” Aster bit back coldly, and Jamie's confident resolve
faltered into one of offense.
“I can't even--” Jamie began, and Jack held his breath. Was he going to tell
Aster about him being, well, him? Jamie almost looked like he was about to say
it, but he thought better of it, and he shook his head, “What do you want,
then? For me not to answer his calls?”
“I want you to be what I asked you and Sanderson to be when I contacted you:
His Psychiatrists. He's already had a bad experience with his last doctor. I
don't need to see it happen to him myself.” Aster said steadily, and Jamie's
head bowed, staring down at his feet in shame, “I know you're probably a good
kid, Jamie... but I need to protect Jack more than I can trust you. Do you
understand me?”
“I do,” Jamie conceded, his eyes wandering to the side, then jumping up and
meeting with Jack's gaze. Jack gasped quietly and turned away, hurrying back to
the kitchen. Jamie, bless his heart, didn't even make a peep.
Whatever else they said to each other was quick, for moments later, they were
stepping out of the bedroom. Jack turned to look at them, his face slightly
flushed from being caught, and the sight of both of them acting as if nothing
had just happened made Jack worry even more. Aster was a good actor, and so was
Jamie, though his eyes betrayed some of his stress. Jack wondered what else
Aster was putting up a front for in front of Jack.
Distrust was a nauseating thing within Jack, and it sat in the pit of his
stomach like a stone.
 
===============================================================================
 
Jamie sighed as he shuffled his way towards Psych 103. He had been having a bad
week ever since Jack called him and Aster scolded his ear off for overstaying
his welcome. He, of course, had to go and tell Sanderson what had happened, and
he got a second scolding from him as well.
“You can't cross the line from friendly therapist to friend,” Sanderson warned
him through frantic signs, “Especially with a case so volatile as Jack's. One
moment you're telling him you think of him as a good friend, the next you have
a dependent patient hanging off your arm. I appreciate you being there in his
time of need, but I will not allow you to meet with him alone any longer. Any
more calls from him and you must contact me immediately, or else you're off the
case.”
It had been brutal, despite the fact that it was all through sign and Sanderson
couldn't raise his voice at him. Jamie felt adequately punished, especially
when Sanderson insist he take a week off from work. Today would be another
session for Jack. Jamie wondered what he would think.
The second he stepped into the Psychology class, Kozmotis looked right at him
and said in a strict tone, “Jamie Bennett, you will see me after class today.”
Jamie's shoulders slumped. Oh great! This was just what he needed, a pissed off
Professor on his ass as well! He half wanted to question the man with a
petulant, “What did I do?!” but he kept his mouth shut and merely nodded. He
didn't even make it to his seat in the middle of the class, he just collapsed
into the desk at the corner, his bag dropping on the floor and his head going
straight for his desk. He just wanted to sleep the rest of his life away.
He spent the majority of Kozmotis' lecture in his own head, scribbling in his
usually neat and prim notebook as his mind wandered. He daydreamed about what
Kozmotis might want to talk to him about. He daydreamed about what Jack would
say when he returned. He daydreamed about Aster getting that restraining order
and being shunned from the field from that day on. He shuddered at that last
thought, and promptly pushed it to the back of his head.
There was no point in sulking, he told himself, the moment he was back to work,
he'd set things straight. Maybe explain to Jack that what they had done was
wrong, and try to get him to understand that they needed to get back to a
health-based relationship, not a friendly one. He didn't really think Jack
would like it so much, but it would be for the best. That way, Jamie wouldn't
be biased, and that way, Jack would get the best treatment possible.
If that couldn't happen, well he might as well just ask Sanderson to take him
off Jack's case altogether. If he couldn't control himself over a pretty face
and a mysterious and probably traumatizing past, then he didn't have what it
takes to be a Psychiatrist. He could probably go into pet therapy, though.
Barely any talking in that one.
Jamie jumped in his seat when a book was dropped on his desk. Kozmotis was
standing before him with a hand on his hip, and with a quick glance around the
room, he realized that class was over and they were alone. He looked back up at
Kozmotis, and the professor made a face.
“We will bring this discussion to my office. Please follow me.” He said to him,
and Jamie sighed and gathered his things. The walk to Kozmotis' office was
tense and quiet, and Jamie wondered if he had to cancel his other class in
order to schedule this meeting with the brunet. They entered the Psychology
wing, where most of the Psych teachers had an office. They walked down the long
hall until they reached the second to last office, and Kozmotis opened the door
for him.
Jamie stepped inside the relatively small office, and he squeezed himself into
the seat set in the corner of the room, between the wall and a filing cabinet.
Kozmotis sat behind his small desk, organized and tidy, even if the rest of the
room was quite cramped. They stared at one another for a long moment, Jamie
still at a loss for what was happening and Kozmotis growing more and more
impatient. Finally, when Jamie all but had enough and was just about to snap,
Kozmotis declared without a touch of humor, “I'll show you mine if you show me
yours.”
“I—What?” Jamie spat out, his eyes growing wide. His hand was about to tug his
shirt down over the seat of his pants when Kozmotis turned away from him, dug
into another filing cabinet tucked right behind his chair, and he pulled out
a... rather thick file.
Turning back around, he dropped the manila folder on the desk, though it
remained closed. Jamie leaned forward, his eyes wide, and he only felt his
heart race when, printed on the very front, was a patient's name.
                               Jack Overland II
“How did you get this?” Jamie asked in a rasp, immediately assuming that this
was somehow Sanderson's case file on Jack, but the grimace that came across
Kozmotis' face created a sinking feeling in Jamie's stomach.
“So he is your patient...” Kozmotis murmured, his brows knitting together and
his eyes growing steely, “Jamie, I know this could be... technically breaking
doctor-patient confidentiality, but I think you need to take a look at this
file.”
Jamie looked back down at the file, temptation running through him like a sin,
and before he knew it, his fingers were brushing the cover of the manila
folder. Realizing what he was doing, Jamie pulled back with a hiss, then
decided desperately, “You're testing me. Sanderson contacted you and told you
what happened, didn't he?”
Kozmotis' eyes widened a little, but instead of looking caught, he looked
concerned, “What happened? What do you mean? Jack did something to you, didn't
he? Good God, Jamie, don't tell me he--”
“What? No, no! He didn't do anything, it was all my fault!” Jamie quickly
interrupted him, his eyes wide as he pushed himself further back into his
chair, not wanting to even be close to the damned file.
“Don't say that. Whatever he did to you wasn't your fault,” Kozmotis claimed,
and Jamie's eyes darted back up to his teacher, confusion evident.
“What are we even talking about? Are we even on the same page here? What's all
of this about?” Jamie asked rapidly, feeling trapped and under pressure, which
were two feelings he really didn't like.
Luckily, Kozmotis seemed to catch on, and he allowed them to take a few steps
back. He placed his hand atop the file on his desk, saying in a calm, slow
voice, “Jack Overland is my patient, Jamie. I have been working with him for
four... maybe five years now. This file is only a portion of what I accumulated
over the years, though inside are the most important pieces. Pieces that will
change how you and Sanderson will approach him. Pieces that will show you that
Jack Overland is not a patient to take lightly.”
Kozmotis pushed the folder closer to Jamie, and Jamie sat up straighter, his
eyes glued to it. It was tantalizing. It was almost unbearable. When Kozmotis
removed his hand from it, Jamie's came up and settled on the cover again,
though this time he didn't pull away. Instead, he slowly slipped his thumb
beneath the cover, and he gingerly pushed it back, revealing and confirming
what Kozmotis first said.
On the very first page was Jack's bio, with his full name, social security,
date of birth, and a brief but informative summary of his mental state and
condition. A few possible diagnoses had been written down and scribbled out,
though it didn't seem like Kozmotis came to an actual conclusion.
Littering the page, covering some lesser bits of information were pictures of
Jack. One must have been an old family photo, as it featured a young, grinning
and brown-haired Jack against a tan background. The image had been cropped, it
seemed, all of them had, focusing on his face. Another showed Jack possibly
after the traumatic event he must have been in, his cheeks hollowed, his skin
significantly pale, with slowly healing bruises and cuts where it was visible
around his neck. His hair was darker, his eyes lost and wild, and his skin
almost looked tightened to his frame. The third image was a mugshot, it seemed,
displaying an even more terrified—or perhaps angry—Jack, littered with brown
splotches all over his face and hair. It was a companion piece, one of them
head-on, the other of his profile.
“I was given his case a year after his parents had been mutilated before him.
He had been in the system for quite a while, but no other therapist or
psychiatrist could do him any good. They brought me in to work with him, and I
mistakenly thought that it would be an easy open-and-closed case. Little boy
watches his parents die, gets covered from head to toe in their blood, suffers
from PTSD and anxiety. Throw some medication his way alongside a generous
helping of therapy and he'd be a working piece of society once again...”
Kozmotis began his tale, leaning back in his chair and allowing Jamie to leaf
through the file, finding more and more pictures of the young man when he was a
teenager, and it almost seemed as if each image was of a different person. The
emotions were so vastly different from one to another, but they were all
unmistakably Jack.
“I was so horribly wrong, Jamie. What transpired the following year was nothing
too extreme, but the further I dug into what really happened the night of his
parent's murder, the more true to himself he became. Sessions began to
constantly turn violent, to the point that I had been forced to restrain him on
more than one occasion. He would harm himself on purpose, would steal
prescription medicine from me to get high, and he blamed it all on me and my
'methods'. The chief of police barely believes me when I tell him that these
things were self-inflicted. He has threatened to remove me from the case, but I
cannot let that happen. Please, Jamie... you need to tell Sanderson that he
needs to release Jack to me once more. I don't care what happens from that
point on, I just cannot risk seeing my friend and my star student suffer the
same fate as...” He fell quiet, his throat clenching up, and he shook his head
for a moment.
“Excuse me, it's still hard to say it...” He mumbled, bringing a hand up to
cover his eyes until he could collect himself. Jamie was staring at him now,
having paused halfway through the file to listen intently to Kozmotis' story,
and he was eating up every word. Still, a touch of doubt still niggled in the
back of his mind.
“This can't be right,” He told Kozmotis, shaking his head and leaning away from
the file again, “Half of these things you claim he has done... he hasn't shown
any aggression or drug-addiction at all. Aster definitely hasn't said anything
about it, either...”
“Aster?” Kozmotis questioned, lowering his hand to look at Jamie once more,
“Who's Aster?”
“Jack's...” Jamie hesitated for a moment, but decided that this was his
professor, and that they were in a private setting, “Jack's boyfriend. He's
living with him currently in Aster's apartment. They've been attending sessions
with Doctor Sanderson weekly for almost a month now...”
“Where does Aster live?” Kozmotis asked, his voice stern, and this time Jamie
hesitated for a lot longer than a second.
“I... I don't know if that's such a good--” Jamie began to protest, but he
jumped when Kozmotis slammed his hand down on his desk.
“Where does he live?!” Kozmotis demanded at the top of his lungs, startling the
boy into complying. Jamie all but shrieked out his address, clutching the
armrests of the chair as he pushed himself back into it. Kozmotis grabbed the
nearest pen and paper—which happened to be a sticky note with a blank back from
Jack's file, and he scribbled down the address without another word.
Once he had it, he turned back to his filing cabinet and took out a disc
bearing Jack's name on it. He held it out to Jamie, then said to him, “Give
this to Sanderson. Tell him it's from me. Don't tell him anything else. Pretend
like this conversation never happened. Do you understand?”
Jamie swallowed thickly, but he took the disc with shaking hands and slowly
nodded his head. Kozmotis let out a harsh breath from his nose, then nodded
back.
“Good,” He told him, “Now get out.”
Jamie didn't have to be told twice. He tossed the disc into his bag and
scrambled out of the office, speed-walking down the hall and not stopping until
he was at the bus stop. History class wasn't going to change, but whatever was
on this disc, under the impression he got from Kozmotis, couldn't wait.
 
***** Code 10-40 *****
Chapter Summary
     didn't spellcheck cause im a lazy fuq
     fite me
The end of Aster's world began with a letter. He retrieved it early one morning
on his way to work, taking notice of the elegant, handwritten address upon the
front, and the golden drip of wax that sealed the light grey envelope shut,
impressed with a winding letter P. He brought it with him to work, as he
brought the rest of his mail—junk, bills, the usual. He didn't have the time to
look at the letter until his lunch came around, and it sat at the bottom of the
pile, untouched and forgotten as he rustled through the rest of his mail.
When he finally reached the final envelope, addressed of course to E. Aster
Bunnymund, and Aster grimaced when he saw his last name. He looked around,
making sure none of his coworkers had seen it, and he proceeded to rip it open.
He tugged out the letter, also a light stone grey, and he carefully opened it
up. The script inside was handwritten, much like the address on the front, and
Aster had to squint to process the flowing cursive.
'Dear Mr. Bunnymund,' it began, and Aster cringed again before he slid his
thumb over his last name. It definitely wasn't anyone he knew. No one called
him by his last name. Despite this, he continued to read, curiosity urging him
forward.
' I shall skip the formalities and get straight to business. You do not know
me. You and I have never met, and I do not plan on doing so. I apologize if
this comes off as cold or insincere to you, I ensure you I have your best
interests at heart. I am merely stressed for time, and I fear if you do not
comply immediately upon reading this letter, you may find yourself in a very
dangerous position.
'There is a young man that has been known to live around this general area. He
is a witness in an old, yet very well-known crime regarding the massacre of his
parents. As far as the public is concerned, there has been no evidence to
expose their attacker, and no one has yet been held responsible for this
heinous crime. The young man has been interrogated by police, analyzed by a
handful of their best psychiatrists and psychologists, and they have all deemed
him innocent. I am writing to you to let you know that this is far from the
truth.
'I am certain you already know of whom I speak, but to make certain you and I
are on the same page, I am writing in regards of none other than Jackson
Overland, who I've come to understand is rooming with you at your apartment. Do
not fret on how I got this information. All I need you to worry about is this:
You are in danger. Jackson Overland is a sadistic murderer, bordering on
psychopathic, who has slain his own parents in cold blood and all but bathed in
the limelight that fell upon him. He has slipped through the fingers of the
police force, bypassed skilled professionals who have been trained to discern
victim from actor, and he even fooled me when he first fell in my charge.
Whatever act he is performing in your presence, I assure you it is just that.
'With this information now safely tucked under your belt, I beg you for your
assistance. I must retain the boy and resume his treatment in order to collect
evidence of his act in the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Overland. Please do not
attempt to handle this on your own—the police force have all but deemed him
innocent. I know the truth. Trust in me, sir, and deliver Jackson to the
address directly below at eight o'clock in the evening on the twenty-third of
April.
'I thank you for your assistance in this mess, sir. I do hope you and I will
work on this efficiently and quietly together. The last either of us need is to
be targeted as his next victim, especially yourself. For your own safety,
please do not bring this letter or mention any correspondence from me to you to
Jack, lest he become irrational and angered. I look forward to our meeting,
however brief it may be.
 
Regards,
 
Doctor Kozmotis Pitchiner'
Aster read the letter twice again, confusion and a weird heaviness settling at
the bottom of his stomach as the words echoed in his mind. He set the letter
down and leaned back in his seat, staring forward at his blank computer screen,
then he leaned forward and grabbed the letter again, grazing over it, half
hoping it would have changed, that the words would have transformed into
something different, something less unsettling. He could almost feel himself
turning green when the words remained. His palms had began to sweat. He didn't
like this uncertainty the letter brought upon him. He set it down again, not
wanting to hold it any longer, and he had half a mind to take it and rip it to
pieces and pretend he never read it in the first place.
But the contents of the letter brought up too many questions.
Instead of destroying it, Aster took the letter and re-folded it, slipping it
back into its envelope and dropping the entire thing into his filing cabinet,
between the folders he already had in there so it fell to the bottom, hidden
for now and out of his mind. Or at least he had hoped that would be what would
happen. In reality, once he heard the sound of the paper hitting the bottom of
the metal cabinet, he felt his heart clench. He wasn't going to show this to
Jack, for more than the obvious reason. Having someone accuse him of the murder
of his own parents, be it true or not, would have him recoiling from Aster and
devolving back to the mute, scared creature Aster had worked so hard to bring
him out of. Hearing that this doctor was currently asking Aster to all but
surrender Jack to his control, that would instill a horrible mistrust between
them, and Aster couldn't handle that. And above all, the fact that this doctor
was none other than Kozmotis Pitchiner, the very man North had warned him about
and Jack recalled as being a cruel, uncaring doctor, solidified Aster's
decision in keeping this letter to himself.
But the questions the letter created still fluttered in Aster's mind, even as
he decided it was time for his lunch to end and to focus once more on work.
Should Aster consider Kozmotis' information? Should he report this letter to
the police and let them know that this guy knew where Jack was and that he was
potentially in danger? Should he just wait and meet him himself to see if what
Jack and North had told him were true?
Or should he blindly trust him and hand Jack over without question, damning him
to what may be his rightful punishment?
Aster scoffed at the idea, shaking it from his head. No way, he wouldn't just
betray Jack like that. What Kozmotis is claiming of Jack is serious, not
something to be taken lightly. Yet whenever Aster thinks of Jack, he can see
nothing more than a scared young man who had gone through too much and seen the
worst life could give him. He was Aster's young lover, his precious little
rabbit, the gorgeous man he was starting to think he was in love with. Jack
didn't have it in him to commit murder, and if he did, then Aster was all but
certain that he must have had an incredibly good reason. The police may have
found a murder scene, but so many other things could have been happening
directly before then.
But there would be no way to know without confronting Jack about it. And he
didn't want to tell him about the letter, but what other way would he even
bring it up? Claim Sanderson had spoken to him about it? But those
conversations were meant to be private, and if Jack believed that Sanderson was
telling Aster all about their conversations, he might not want to go any
longer. He could ask Jamie, since the kid wasn't bound to the same rules seeing
as he was just a college student... but no. He already knew what Jamie was
like, and he doubted the kid would give up private information like that.
He could ask Anna what he should do, but she's had a horrible habit of making
Jack incredibly uncomfortable and overstepping her boundaries. He loved the
woman, but he didn't need her loose lips letting loose something he didn't need
Jack to concern himself with. He tapped his fingers anxiously against the table
top, trying to figure out what needed to be done. Confronting Kozmotis alone on
the date set by him was an option, too... but he doubted the man would take
kindly to that. He didn't exactly leave any way to contact him otherwise. Aster
tugged open the filing cabinet and pushed aside his folders, peeking at the
envelope again. No return address. The fucker.
Aster dropped it back in and nearly threw himself back in his seat, running
both hands over his face and through his hair, then dropping them down onto the
armrests of the chair. He needed to think of something. He couldn't just ignore
a letter like this, especially from this specific person.
“Aster?” A meek voice came, and the man spun around in his chair in surprise,
his face burning bright red when he saw Jamie standing at the entrance to his
cubicle. Had he been there the entire time? He didn't want to have to explain
his odd behavior. He nearly opened his mouth to prattle off some excuse when
Jamie crossed his arms over his chest, curling in on himself and looking...
scared. His shoulders were shaking and his eyes were darting around on the
carpet, and Aster knew this was going to be about something else entirely.
“Jamie, what's wrong?” Aster asked him, scooting forward with his chair and
putting a hand on the kid's arm. Jamie blinked and looked up at him, but only
for a moment. When he dropped his gaze again, he cleared his throat and wrung
his hands into his sleeves.
“Can we... erm...” He shuffled his feet, “C-can I talk to you? Privately?”
Aster was about to mention that this was private enough, but he knew that was a
lie. The walls had ears, especially ones as thin and short as his cubicle. He
glanced over towards Anna's spot, but didn't see the usual curious gaze
whenever Aster found himself in conversation. He kept his hand on Jamie's arm,
then nodded and stood, leading him out of the cubicle and down the hall. He was
going to stop him in the stairwell, but Jamie grabbed his wrist and pulled him
down a few levels.
“Jamie, this is fine enough,” Aster claimed, but Jamie shook his head and
pushed them through a door. The conference halls were empty at this time, only
one of them occupied by a small group meeting their newest patient. Jamie
glanced inside, but he continued to pull Aster along, bringing him to one of
the smaller rooms set with a projector and a computer. Aster slowly closed the
door behind him and Jamie began to pull the blinds to cover the windows,
obviously not wanting anyone to see them. Aster began to suspect the worse,
especially when Jamie began pushing him towards the chair.
“Oka—Okay! Jamie, stop!” Aster demanded, grabbing the boy's wrists and shoving
him back, making the brunet stumble before he balanced himself out. His eyes
were wide and round, his shoulders shaking still, and his face looked
completely pale. “What is going on? What are you even doing?”
“I need to show you something,” Jamie said, his voice sounding ominous, but his
words making Aster's skin buzz in discomfort.
“I think you need to go see Sanderson,” Aster remarked, unnerved, and he headed
for the door. He shouted in surprise when Jamie ran for the door, slamming his
back to it and trapping Aster inside.
“No! No, please, I need you to see something! And you can't tell Sanderson and
you can't tell Jack a-and--” Jamie hiccuped, and suddenly tears were filling
his eyes, “P-Please, there's no one I can think of to tell and I-I don't even
want to tell you but...” His head dropped down and he continued to cry, his
shoulders heaving and the tears falling on his shoes. Aster hesitated, unsure
how to take this odd situation, but he knew Jamie, and he knew that he didn't
usually fall to emotion like this. He glanced over at the windows, shaded
still, then at the door that Jamie was pressed against, and he let out a deep
sigh.
“Calm down, Jamie,” Aster whispered, approaching the brunet and pulling him
into a strong embrace, allowing the brunet to sob into his shirt. Jamie gasped
at the show of comfort, and he clung to Aster tightly as he struggled to catch
his breath. Aster began to rub his back, whispering in his ear, “That's it...
deep breaths. There you go, kiddo... I got you.”
“I-I need to sh-show you someth-thing,” Jamie sobbed, and Aster nodded his head
and continued to hold him.
“Alright. I'll let you show me something, but first you settle down, okay?”
Aster bargained, and when Jamie nodded his consent, Aster tightened his hold on
him and continued to calm him down. As soon as Jamie's breath evened out and
his tears stopped falling, Aster let him go, and Jamie regarded him with an
embarrassed grimace before he went to the laptop.
He pulled something out of his messenger bag, a CD case, and he loaded it into
the computer quickly. “You should sit,” He told Aster in a watery voice, “And
just... watch, okay?”
“Alright,” Aster agreed, and he slid into the nearest chair, keeping his body
turned so he could see Jamie and watch the projector light up out of the corner
of his eye. When Jamie pulled up a video, Aster sighed and turned to watch it,
only to freeze in his chair when the very first frame displayed Jack, his Jack
but younger, with brown hair and a healthier looking complexion, bound to a
wooden chair in a dark, dank looking room, with a single light shining down on
him.
“What is this?” Aster hissed, almost about to get up and turn to Jamie, but
then the video started, and he was stuck to his chair, watching in rapt horror.
A second person entered the frame as Jack's head lulled, and this man held in
his hand a needle, which he proceeded to sink into Jack's arm. Jack flinched
and groaned, trying to tug his arm away, but he was expertly bound. He let out
a wail after the needle was pulled from him, and Aster felt his heart ache.
“You told me something interesting last night, Jack.” The man spoke, his hands
shaking as he set the needle down, but his voice didn't waver, “Do you remember
it?”
“No...” Jack sobbed, his head rolling forward and his body slumping as much as
it could in his binds. The man grimaced, then reached forward and grabbed Jack
by his hair, yanking his head back so he could look at him.
“You are lying to me. Tell me what you said.” The man demanded, almost spitting
the words out, though he constantly looked up at the camera, as if afraid he
wasn't recording this.
“I didn't say anything!” Jack cried, struggling again against his bonds, “It
wasn't me! It wasn't me!”
“That's not what you claimed the other night!” The man shouted back, his hands
shaking even as he gripped Jack's hair tighter, tearing another shout from him,
“You told me about the murders! About your parents! About what you did! Say it
again! Say it right now, Jackson, or else!” The man threw Jack's head forward,
letting go of him, and the teen sobbed loudly as the entire chair wobbled from
the displaced weight. His feet skittered across the ground, but the chair
toppled back in place, and Jack whimpered in fear.
“Stop this,” Aster said in a thick voice, feeling as if he was about to vomit.
“Keep watching,” Jamie whispered, his own voice tiny.
Jack kept his head down, his shoulders shaking violently, and his whimpering
and sobbing turned into a slow, quiet laugh. The man halted his pacing, turning
to look at Jack, but the teen didn't lift his head. He merely continued to
laugh, the sound growing louder and more prominent.
“That's not what I said last night,” Jack agreed, his voice suddenly lowered
and calm, “Why don't you tell the camera what I oh-so-wantonly confessed,
professor? With my legs curled around your waist, my fingers digging into the
back of your neck, feeling your throbbing cock pounding into my ass over and
over and over again.” He threw his head back and moaned, loud and unbidden,
unlike anything Aster had ever heard from him, and in a panting, pleasure-
ridden voice, he continued to cry out, “Yes! Fuck yes! Fuck me harder, Pitch!
Give it to me, please!”
“Stop it! Shut up!” Pitch gasped, and he began to advance towards the camera to
shut it off. Just as his hand settled on the camera, he stopped, his eyes
widening with a realization. Slowly, he turned to look at Jack, who was looking
at him with a twisted grin, his eyes sparkling in mischief.
“Turn it off,” Jack whispered to him, trying to spread his knees further apart
even though his thighs were strapped to the chair, “Turn it off and come to me.
You have me bound so prettily for you, Pitch. All you have to do is undo your
belt and you can be right where you love it. Right where you came last night.
Let me have you again, baby.”
“I know what you're doing. I'm not turning it off, no matter how many lies you
spit.” Pitch declared, stepping away from the camera and clasping his hands
behind his back, though he looked unsettled and worried, especially when Jack's
eyes widened and he laughed in surprise.
“Lies? How could I lie about this? How could I ever lie about the way you
choked me on your dick and made me swallow your come. How I begged you for it.
You're already getting hard just thinking about it, I can see it.”He sucked in
a breath deeply through his nose, then moaned the air out, “I can even smell
it...”
“Depraved,” Pitch growled, gripping his own hand tightly behind his back. He
resumed pacing. Jack huffed and rolled his eyes, turning his head away from
Pitch and looking down at his arm where he had been punctured. He regarded it
for a moment, straining against the straps on that arm until a bead of blood
welled in the crook of it, and dripped down his elbow.
“What did you give me?” Jack asked, looking back at Pitch who continued to
pace, “Whatever it was, it isn't strong.”
“Give it time. It will come.” Pitch muttered and he continued to pace, his brow
creased and his frown frozen on his face. Jack rolled his eyes again and
slumped, sitting there in silence since his first tactic didn't work. A minute
passed of silence, Pitch pacing slowly and Jack occasionally struggling against
the bonds, before the serum began to do its job. Jack's face grew pale and his
breathing grew rapid. Even on the screen, Aster could see his pupils dilate.
When he began to struggle in earnest, Pitch descended upon him, standing behind
his chair and putting his hands on Jack's shoulders.
“What did you do to me?” Jack questioned angrily, struggling harder until a cry
was wrenched from him, and his heavy breathing turned to desperate panting,
“What did you give me?!”
“Methamphetamine. It's been known to cause extreme panic in certain doses and
mixtures.” Pitch explained calmly, pulling Jack's head back so he could look
into his eyes, and he grinned.
“You fucker,” Jack spat out, struggling harder in the chair, a whine tearing
from his throat, “You think you can torture it out of me by giving me a bad
high? You misjudged me.”
“I think that remains to be seen.” Pitch remarked casually, and he let go of
Jack again before he turned off the spotlight Jack was under, making the teen
shout in fear. “Scared of the dark, Jack? I can turn the lights back on if you
tell me what you told me last night.”
“Suck a cock, you motherfucker!”Jack shouted, and the image on the screen
suddenly turned green—the night vision being activated. Jack was squirming in
his seat, trying to be free, and pitch grabbed a long pole and quietly stepped
closer to Jack. He jabbed at Jack's leg with the pole, making the teen shriek
and twist away, making the chair screech against the ground. Pitch smirked, and
he blew air against the back of Jack's neck, and the teen squirmed and
shuddered and began tearing anew at the bonds.
“Stop it! Stop! I know it's you! Turn the lights back on!” Jack screamed,
tugging harder and harder on the chair, and when Pitch jabbed him with the pole
again, Jack jerked away so hard he sent the chair toppling onto its side. Jack
screamed again as he collided with the ground, and he began to kick at the
ground to try and get away.
“What did you say last night, Jack?!” Pitch yelled, standing over him even
though Jack couldn't see him, “Tell me what you said!”
“No! Turn the lights back on!” Jack still refused, still trying to kick away,
and Pitch gritted his teeth in frustration.
“Tell me who murdered your parents, Jack!”
“Please, I can't see! I'm scared, Pitch, please!”
“Tell me who killed your parents!”
“I c-can't breathe, Pitch, I-I can't--”
“Who killed your fucking parents?!”
“I did!”
The lights were back on a moment later, the night vision turned off, and Jack
was shown sobbing as he sat in the fallen chair, his body still trembling in
fear and more blood dripping from his arm. When Pitch approached him, Jack
squirmed harder and shouted again, “I killed them! I fucking killed them! Are
you satisfied now?! Are you happy with this?! I killed them!”
“Why did you do this?!” Pitch screamed, his own breathing labored, and he
gestured vaguely with his hand, “Why did you kill your parents?”
Jack sobbed harder, his head dropping down onto the floor, but Pitch would have
none of that, and he kicked the chair he sat in, making Jack yelp in fear.
“No more... No more...” Jack whispered in a rush, shaking his head, “I couldn't
let them... I couldn't... They were... S-she...”
Jack's head turned and he vomited across the floor. Pitch cursed and scurried
out of Jack's way, then went to the camera and shut it off. The video ended in
black. Jamie turned off the projector and raised the lights. Aster remained in
his seat, his hands digging into the armrests on his chair. They stayed silent
in the room together, Jamie not moving from behind the laptop and Aster not
turning away from the projection screen.
“Where did you get this?” Aster asked first, slowly coming back to himself. He
still couldn't bring himself to look at Jamie, unable to predict what he might
do, if he was going to start yelling at him or crying.
“Doctor Kozmotis Pitchiner is my Psych professor...” Jamie explained quietly,
leaning heavily against the table where the laptop sat, “He heard me talking to
Jack on the phone the day you... erm... found me in your bed.” He cleared his
throat, then closed his eyes, “He pulled me into his office and gave me this
CD... in exchange for--”
“My address.” Aster mumbled, and he could almost hear Jamie's ashamed frown.
Aster finally allowed himself to turn, and he looked directly at Jamie, who was
still hunched over and staring at the ground.
“I didn't mean to give it to him at first,” Jamie admitted, squeezing his eyes
shut, “But he... he was scaring me. I thought he was going to hurt me. I never
thought Doctor Pitchiner would ever...”
Aster sighed. It was easy to blame Jamie for this man now knowing Aster and
Jack's address, but seeing him shiver and quake and confess how he had nearly
been threatened had Aster rethinking the situation. He wasn't sure what to do
with this new information. He didn't want to believe Kozmotis, but this video
had Jack himself confessing to the crime—though he had been drugged and
terrified into admitting it, which gave Aster a moment of doubt.
“We need to take this to the police,” Jamie whispered, wrapping his arms around
himself and worrying at his sleeves, “We need to detain Jack, show the police
his confession, and get him locked away... We need--”
“Jamie, slow down. We're not going to do any of that, not yet,” Aster decided
in a moment, and Jamie's head snapped up to meet Aster's gaze, his eyes wide
and his mouth agape.
“What are you talking about? Aster, he murdered people!” Jamie cried, gesturing
to the projector screen as if Jack were actually there. Aster pressed his lips
into a line, then stood from his seat and shook his head.
“I refuse to believe it. I need Jack's side of the story before I make a
decision.”
“Jack's side of the--?! This isn't some playground bullying, Aster! This is
murder! Cold-blooded murder! A tragedy! Lives were lost!” Jamie's voice got
progressively louder, and Aster lifted his hands to calm Jamie down.
“You are letting your emotions get the better of you. Jack confessed, yes, but
his motives weren't stated. The evidence found on the scene was inconclusive.
For all we know, he just feels remarkably guilty for their deaths, nothing
more. When a victim goes through a traumatic experience, it isn't uncommon for
them to assume all responsibility and plead guilty. That's why I'm here. That's
why this entire company is here.” Aster stepped towards Jamie, who took a
worried step back, “We will talk to Jack first. No, Sanderson will talk to Jack
first. Did you show him this video?”
“No...” Jamie murmured, eyeing Aster doubtfully, but he didn't retreat any
further.
“Good. Don't. Jack comes in tomorrow for his next session. You're going to tell
Sanderson that you heard him talking to me about the murders. Tell him I'm
concerned it's affecting his mental health. Just... get him to ask Jack about
it, okay?” When Jamie nodded, Aster sighed and put his hands on Jamie's
shoulders, squeezing them and frowning.
“Don't do anything brash, okay? If we... If we move too quickly on this and end
up being wrong... Jack would never forgive us.” Aster tried to explain, but
Jamie didn't look entirely convinced. Aster pressed his lips into a line, then
glanced at the laptop before he said, “I'd like to take the CD with me.”
“No.” Jamie immediately defended, his brow furrowing, “You're going to destroy
it. You don't want Jack to go to jail.”
“And you do?” Aster questioned, keeping his hands on Jamie as the teen thought
about it, struggling with the answer, “Let me hold onto it for now. I won't
destroy it, okay? I'm just going to put it in my filing cabinet and lock it. I
don't want either of us to touch it or for it to fall into the wrong hands.
Okay?”
Jamie looked back up at him, then sighed and nodded his head. Aster nodded
back, then let go of him and carefully removed the CD from the laptop, dropping
it back into its case. “I need to return to work...”
“Yeah...” Jamie mumbled, and they looked at each other once more before Jamie
huffed and headed for the door, slipping out and down the hall without another
word. Aster lingered in the room for a moment longer, looking down at the CD in
his hand. He could destroy it, like Jamie mentioned. Ensure his lover wouldn't
go to jail any time soon. Make sure the evidence remained inconclusive.
But if he was wrong about Jack, he would need the CD. He took a deep breath,
then headed back into his cubicle, sliding into his seat and depositing the CD
into his filing cabinet to join the envelope an letter. As he slid the cabinet
closed, he saw Anna peering over the filing cabinet at him, her eyes wide and
curios.
“You were gone for--” She began, but Aster didn't have the patience or the
fortitude to deal with lying to her.
“Leave it,” Aster groused out, interrupting her inquiry before it could even be
worded. She stared at him silently for a bit longer, and Aster slumped forward
against his desk, covering his face with his hands. He could still feel her
staring at him, and he wanted to yell or scream at her to get back to work,
perhaps even throw something, but he didn't move. He didn't even answer his
phone when it began to ring, instead he clutched tighter at his hair and
gritted his teeth.
The remaining hour of work was spent in Aster's own mind. He barely worked at
all, though he definitely tried. Whenever he let his mind wander, though, it
drifted back to the damned video Jamie showed him. The knowledge that the CD
and letter were in his filing cabinet burned in the back of his mind. He could
destroy them, he kept telling himself. He should destroy them. He trusted Jack.
He knew the man wouldn't have done anything so vile...
But doubt twisted its way into his heart.
By the time he made it home, Aster was tense and upset. He didn't want to take
it out on Jack, or anyone, but he couldn't just linger about. It would scare
Jack if he wasn't home on time. At the same time, Aster was a little afraid to
go home. He hated keeping secrets, especially from those he was in a
relationship with, and this secret was much too heavy for him to bear. He was
afraid he was going to spill it all to Jack, afraid he would yell at him,
accuse him, scare him away when he had done nothing wrong.
He was afraid Jack would confirm his worst fears. He was afraid what that would
mean for them.
When he stepped inside, he was greeted by the sight of his lover, sprawled out
on the couch and napping peacefully. He looked so precious, wearing only a pair
of shorts and the collar. A part of Aster wanted to run his fingers through his
hair, wake him up gently, kiss and hold him, but the other part was still
diseased with knowledge. He wished he never watched that video.
Aster decided to take things one step at a time, to be patient with himself and
Jack. He left the man to sleep while he stepped into his bedroom to change.
Once redressed in more comfortable clothing, Aster considered what he could do
next. He could leave, go for a walk, clear his head. He could leave a note for
Jack so he didn't get worried... but that would probably worry him still.
Aster sat on his bed and held his face in his hands, trying to will the anger
and confusion away. This was not his deed to judge. This was something that
shouldn't matter to him. It was in the past. It was irrelevant. It was from a
man both Jack and North had spoken ill about. A man of Kozmotis' caliber would
be expected to use manipulative tactics to win Aster over.
But the look on Jamie's face, a teenager who Aster trusted, one who he handed
Jack over to every week... He was scared. He trusted Kozmotis. He saw the video
and believed it. And wasn't he the one who was better than Aster when it came
to the mind?
They would make a decision on what to do once Sanderson had the chance to talk
to Jack. Aster wouldn't let this linger over him like a curse. Once more, he
tried to will the bad thoughts away. He was so caught up in his own head that
he all but flinched when a hand touched his thigh.
“Aster?” Jack's gentle voice came from his feet, and Aster peered through his
fingers at the man, kneeling before him and looking up at him with such
innocent curiosity that it made Aster's heart ache. There was no way Jack could
murder anyone.
Aster let out a long breath, his hands sliding from his face and instead going
to the mattress on either side of him. He continued to look down at Jack,
silent, and the man glanced between his eyes before he looked down at his lap.
Tentatively, Jack leaned forward and nuzzled his cheek to Aster's thigh, only
to glance back up at him as if he was making sure this was fine. Aster didn't
respond, so Jack pressed forward, pressing his lips and nose right between
Aster's legs, sighing against his groin. Aster felt a tremble surge through
him, and Jack looked up at him again.
Aster lifted a hand and ran his fingers through Jack's hair, tangling in the
locks and pushing his head closer. Jack's eyes twinkled in mischief, then they
closed and Jack began to mouth at his cock through his cloth pants. He made a
soft noise, enjoying it as much as Aster was, perhaps even more. Jack's hands
rolled up Aster's thighs, and his fingers curled around the waistband. He began
to tug them down when Aster caught his wrist, stopping him.
Jack waited for a command. His eyes were trained on Aster, patient, listening,
but when nothing came, he shifted nervously. “Aster?” He asked again, tilting
his head a little. His eyes darted down to where Aster still held his wrist,
then back up at his face, “Yes?”
“... No.” Aster whispered, and all at once, Jack's confidence fell into a
worried panic. He pulled away quickly, his eyes wide and watery, but before he
could do much else, Aster grabbed his other wrist and pulled him back in. “I
want my pet in a different way.”
Jack blinked up at him, confused and scared and uncertain, but he nodded
anyways, because he trusted Aster. Aster gently pulled Jack up to his feet,
then pushed him down on the mattress, turning him onto his stomach and tugging
the shorts down from his hips. Jack was trembling, but he didn't call for a
stop. Aster decided he was going to release his stress and tension another way.
“I'm upset, Jack,” Aster told him, and he could see the quake in Jack's
shoulders increase, “Not at anything in particular. Not at you.” A lie, “But I
am angry. And I want to take it out, somehow. On something. On someone. Will
you let me?” He kissed Jack's neck, loving, careful. Jack was nodding again. He
trusted Aster not to hurt him. In the beginning, Aster said he wouldn't. He
planned to keep his word true.
He stood from the bed and approached his closet. He had an arsenal from his
previous relationships. He hadn't touched the stash ever since Jack became his.
That was fine, up until now. Now, he was removing rope. Jack watched him from
over his shoulder, his eyes widening at the sight.
“Aster--” Jack began, but Aster shot him a hard look, and he could almost see
the words collapse in Jack's throat. Aster approached the bed again, pushing
Jack's head back down to the mattress, and he began to tie Jack's wrists behind
his back, then his arms to his torso, then his ankles to either side of the
bed. Jack squirmed, but said nothing. Aster settled down behind him.
“You know the word.” Aster told him. Jack hesitated before he nodded. He
squirmed in his binds. Aster ran a hand down his bare backside, trailing down
his thigh, then moving back up to spread him apart. Jack squirmed again. Aster
watched him fight the rope for a moment, then allowed himself to indulge. He
laid on his stomach behind Jack, keeping him spread, and he ran his tongue
along the cleft of his ass. Jack squirmed for an entirely different reason.
Aster smirked against his skin, kissed one cheek, then pressed his tongue
against the spot between his sack and his asshole, teasing him. Jack gasped,
wordless, and he pressed his face against the mattress. Aster's thumb pressed
against Jack's hole, his tongue stroking down, then back up, and then he
wrapped his lips around his balls, sucking them roughly, enough to draw out a
whine from his lover. Jack was already getting hard, his cock trapped
uncomfortably between the mattress and his stomach. He tried rutting, but Aster
pushed down on the small of his back, keeping his hips from rolling.
Aster pushed his thumb inside, dry, but Jack relented. He only got past his
nail before it became too tight, so he worked it back out and tried again. When
the second push didn't work, he pulled back and instead pressed his tongue
inside. Jack's body jolted at the sensation and he gave a cry. Aster pressed
his tongue further inside, using his thumb to stroke the skin just below,
teasing his sack. Jack's breathing was growing ragged, much to Aster's delight,
and he turned his head against the mattress so he could breath better.
“Aster...” He gasped, and Aster responded by thrusting his tongue into Jack,
getting his body to jerk and a groan to bubble from his throat. Aster continued
his attention to Jack's hole, stretching him with his tongue, working him until
spit was dripping from him. He slipped his hand between the mattress and Jack's
cock, already feeling the wetness there from his pre. Aster wrapped his fingers
around him and began to slowly stroke. His other hand still held Jack down,
making sure he couldn't move his hips and gain more friction. The man would
come undone under Aster's ministrations and Aster's alone.
His tongue slipped out of Jack's ass, much to his disappointment, and he began
to lick long stripes up and down his body, from the base of his cock, over his
balls, and up between his cheeks to the small of his back. He made his way back
down in a similar fashion, taking his time, allowing himself to enjoy the
strangled noises Jack was making. The muscles in his thighs were beginning to
tremble.
“Are you enjoying this, Jack?” Aster whispered against the skin of his back,
and Jack whimpered into the sheets, his head bobbing up and down frantically.
Aster smirked, kissed the dimples on either side of his ass, and he moved
further up, lining up their bodies and grinding his hard cock against him. Jack
let out a breath, his mouth hanging open and his eyes lidded. He tugged on the
ropes on his wrists, and Aster placed his hand over them.
“You look so good like this,” Aster told him. He rolled their hips together
twice more, enjoying the feeling, then he moved back down, rubbing his nose,
his lips, his tongue against his skin as he went. When he got back down to
Jack's backside, he wasted no time in delving his tongue inside, sliding his
thumb in alongside it. Jack wailed in pleasure, his toes curling.
“You taste absolutely sinful,” Aster breathed, pulling back only for a moment
before he pushed back in. He was moving back once again, moments later, despite
Jack's whimpering protests, “You'll tell me when you're about to cum. You'll
say the word 'there' to tell me. Understand?”
Jack nodded his head mutely, but that wasn't enough for Aster. He pulled back
and made to bite Jack's left cheek, though he mostly just scraped his teeth
against the skin, raising a few red streaks. Jack cried out, his hips
twitching, and he gasped shakily, “Yes. Yes, Aster.”
“Good kitten,” Aster sighed, bringing his other hand up and pressing in his
second thumb, stretching Jack wide so he could slide his tongue back in easily.
Jack moaned loudly, his chest arching against the bed, his neck straining as he
tried tilting his head back. He tugged harder on the ropes.
Aster glanced up, watching Jack's back curl and strain against the pleasure. He
was prone to stretching out, to holding on to something as Aster brought him to
the edge. With the ropes, he could only squirm, and the sight increased the
urge for Aster to pleasure himself, but he held off. This was about stress
relief through punishment, though Aster knew Jack didn't know what he was being
punished for. Aster wasn't even sure if this was going to sate his irritation.
It certainly wasn't like it was a pain to try, though.
He began to incorporate his teeth, allowing them to scrape against the ring of
Jack's asshole, nibbling at the flesh of his cheeks and thighs. He never
clamped down hard enough to really mark him, but his skin still inflamed,
though only for a few long minutes. Even as he tasted Jack's body, he didn't
stop his attention to his hole. When his mouth was busy, he fucked Jack with
his fingers, easily fitting two inside of him, curling them against his
prostate, abusing it hard to the point of Jack letting out an actual sob. When
his hands took a break, his tongue was back inside of him, slurping and
licking, massaging the muscles around his entrance. Aster fell into such a
bliss as he ate him out and finger fucked him that he almost missed the first
tentative squeak from Jack.
“There!” He yelped, sweat rolling down his back and thighs, his body taut and
shaking, his voice wrecked, “There! Aster!”
Jack's body jolted, his climax almost upon him, and just when he thought he was
going to hit that wave of sudden relief and warmth, a tight hand clamped down
on the base of his cock, and it felt as if he merely hit a brick wall. His hips
jerked almost violently and a desperate cry tore from his throat. His toes
curled, relaxed, then curled again, and his hands squeezed into fists on his
back.
“No!” He shouted, but Aster didn't listen to him. He didn't even care to stop
his torture, either, his mouth latching onto Jack's balls, sucking and
caressing them, letting his tongue lave over them in a quick motion. Jack
jolted again, but nothing came of it, and he let out a frustrated yell, “No!
Aster, there!”
His cock was twitching against Aster's grip, but he didn't allow him relief. He
dug his fingers back into his hole, slamming them into his body relentlessly,
smirking at the sound of his knuckles smacking against the curve of Jack's ass,
watching it bounce with each thrust. Jack groaned and grunted, his face
twisting in discomfort, then relaxing in pleasure before twisting back again.
He needed to cum, but Aster wasn't going to let him. He was going to bring him
past the brink, farther than he's gone before, and only then would he gift him
with the privilege to cum.
When the drag of his fingers within Jack became too much, Aster pulled them
away and dropped back down onto his stomach, plunging his tongue deep within
him and rolling it around, stroking the walls, probing for the prostate just
out of reach, then massaging the skin around it. Sweat continued to drip down
Jack's skin, his voice going quiet save for the choked moans and yelps. When he
was able to dig his fingers back in, he asked cruelly, “Are you enjoying it
now, Jack?”
“N-Na—ahh—ah!” Jack replied in a shriek, and Aster laughed, deep in his throat.
He slammed his fingers particularly hard into him, digging them around until he
was stroking his prostate again. He could almost feel Jack's cock swelling with
how much he needed to cum.
“You don't like it?” Aster asked in a convincingly upset voice, and Jack
vehemently shook his head no against the sheets. Aster pouted dramatically,
though Jack wasn't looking at him, and he withdrew his fingers from his ass,
but not the hand clamping down his dick. Jack let out a pitiful wail, throwing
his head back in distress. At this angle, Aster could see the tears rolling
down his cheeks, smeared across his face and the blankets from his flailing.
“I guess I'll just stop, then, since you hate it so much. Don't worry, I won't
let you come from something so abhorrent.” Aster 'reassured' him, and he patted
his messy hand against Jack's cheek.
“No! No!” Jack begged, more tears falling from his eyes as he squirmed and
rutted and tugged at his binds. “Aster! No! Aster!”
“What is it?” Aster smirked, leaning across Jack's body and kissing his
shoulder, “What has you so desperate, kitten? Do you want to come?” He squeezed
Jack's cock harder, tearing a scream from his writhing lover.
“Yes!” Jack sobbed at the top of his lungs, “Yes! Aster!”
“Mmm... but I don't think you should cum just yet. No, I think I should cum
first. And only then will I consider letting you cum, too.” Aster kissed his
shoulder once again, and he carefully tugged down his cotton pants, letting his
cock hang out, hard and heavy. He slid his flesh against Jack's ass, between
his pliant cheeks, and began to rut against him in earnest, one hand on his
cock, the other pressing Jack down, keeping him from movement. The younger man
was twitching all over, trying to get more traction, more sensation, more
pleasure, but failing to receive more than what Aster willingly gave him. He
begged using Aster's name, his voice cracking more frequently the louder he
grew. His throat was beginning to hurt from the sheer volume, and he couldn't
stop his crying. He considered for a moment saying their word just so Aster
would let go of him and he could cum, but he didn't think that'd be fair for
either of them, and when it really came down to it, Jack was actually enjoying
himself.
“Fuck, your ass...” Aster groaned, rutting against him faster, watching his own
dick sliding against Jack's slicked and sweaty body, admiring the contrast of
his dark skin against Jack's pale back. He considered spanking him, just once,
just to add some more color, but he caressed instead, squeezing and twisting
and groping Jack's ass until he was just pressing down on it to add a better
squeeze around his cock.
Aster's rise to climax was quick, guided by Jack's pleading sobs and warm body.
His head tilted back when pleasure rolled over him, easing out the distress he
had been in since Jamie ushered him into that damned room. His seed splattered
across Jack's back, making him flinch then resume his begging.
“Aster, Aster, There, Yes, Aster,” Jack pleaded, his words never faltering, and
Aster decided it was time to end the punishment. Sliding away from Jack's ass,
Aster grabbed him by his hip and yanked him back, giving the ropes at his
ankles enough slack for Aster to push Jack onto his knees. With his hand still
tight around Jack's cock, Aster carefully laid down on his back, fitting
himself between Jack's knees, coming face to face with his weeping and purple
cock. He tilted his head back, looking at Jack, and he smirked at his red,
tear-stained face, watery eyes and bitten lips.
Aster began to stroke Jack's cock, and the effect was immediate. Jack's hips
jolted down and a long, loud whine tore out of him alongside the first shot of
ejaculate. His spend splattered against Aster's cheek, but the man didn't stop
there. He continued to stroke him with a fast hand, his other moving around his
hip to rub and tease his hole one last time. Jack's trembling from aftershocks
turned into a second orgasm, his voice failing to come out this time as more
seed spilled into Aster's waiting mouth.
“A-A-Ast-st-ster...” Jack choked, his eyes going wide when a third wave hit
him, and even more seed came from him, though significantly lighter in load
than his first two. His skin was growing raw and the quakes of pleasure were
starting to hurt. Jack tugged at his wrists, trying to squirm away, but Aster
held him in place and continued to abuse his pulsing flesh.
“N-No...” Jack gasped, but his body jerked and jolted with a fourth climax,
though nothing more came from him. He was left spent and oversensitive, but
Aster still continued to stroke and tease. His body felt like it was beginning
to tear apart, and Jack wailed in pain. He opened his mouth to protest, to beg
Aster to stop, but his mind drew a blank. The word was gone. Jack was going to
be jerked red and raw, he felt like he was going to die, he just wanted it to
end.
He struggled to remember the word. He ran through his list of limited
vocabulary, hoping it would bring it back to mind. He was only aloud to say
their names, Aster and Jack, yes, no, there and.... and...
“Red!”
Aster reacted immediately. His hand dropped away from Jack's aching cock. He
was sliding out from underneath his hips, wiping his face clean of Jack's cum,
then he pulled at the ropes in one swift motion and had Jack untied. The young
man collapsed onto the bed, trembling and twitching and sobbing actual tears.
He flinched when Aster sidled up behind him, afraid he was going to try and
touch him again, try and coax one more climax from him, but Aster did no such
thing. Instead, Aster wrapped his arms around Jack's body, holding him close to
him and running his hand up and down Jack's arm.
“Deep breath, Kitten,” Aster whispered in Jack's ear, pressing his nose against
the back of his head, “Tell me what you need. Let me make it better.”
“I-I'm s-so-sorry,” Jack sobbed brokenly, and Aster shushed him gently, moving
his palm to Jack's chest, rubbing it in large circles.
“Don't apologize. It was my fault. I pushed you too far.” Aster sighed, and he
held Jack a bit tighter, “Tell me what you need, Jack. A bath? Food? I'll give
you anything.”
Jack whimpered, bringing his hands up to place over Aster's hand on his chest,
and when he had a firm grip on him, he merely whispered, “Just hold me...”
“Anything,” Aster agreed, and he pulled Jack even closer, not stopping until
their legs were tangled together and Jack's head was tucked comfortably
underneath his chin. His hand stayed on Jack's chest where Jack clung to it,
but his other arm wrapped around Jack's arms. They laid like this for a few
minutes, Jack's trembling slowing to a shiver and Aster stroking his chest
still, whispering comforting words into his hair.
“I d-didn't do anything, did I?” Jack asked suddenly, and Aster fell quiet. He
didn't, not really, but the damned CD Jamie showed Aster had been enough to
incur so many warring emotions within Aster. Punishing Jack was a way to
cleanse himself, to alleviate the doubt and fear. Seeing Jack trembling like
this after what he had just pushed him to... it was enough to convince Aster
that he couldn't have been the one to fall to murder.
At least, it was enough for now.
“No,” Aster said, closing his eyes. It felt like a lie, but it really wasn't.
“Something happened at work. I was... upset. I didn't want to take it out on
you, Jack, but...”
“But I'm your pet.” Jack mumbled, and the way he said it made Aster's chest
ache.
“But you are my boyfriend, before that. You are my lover. My Jack. I should
have talked about it with you before I tried anything.” Aster argued, pressing
his hand down on the center of Jack's chest, feeling his heart hammering still.
“What I just did wasn't... good.”
Jack was quiet, but he turned his head a little, trying to look at Aster. The
older man shifted back so they could look one another in the eye. He could see
Jack was thinking, his eyes darted between Aster's in quick succession. He
seemed to decide something, Aster thought, when Jack's eyes narrowed and
flickered down, staring instead at Aster's lips.
“It felt good... at first.” Jack mumbled, rolling onto his back so he could
look at him more comfortably, “But then it hurt. Then it felt good again, but
then it hurt even more.”
“I know. I should've just stopped.” Aster grumbled, his brow furrowed. He was
disappointed in himself. He didn't think he would have kept going, even when he
knew it wasn't going to be giving Jack any more pleasure. He just wanted to
hear him beg, Aster thought.
Jack made an uncertain noise in the back of his throat, and he brought a hand
up to stroke Aster's cheek. They met eyes again, and Jack blinked twice before
he leaned in and kissed him. “I didn't do anything?”
Aster shook his head no. “Can you forgive me?”
Jack smiled at that, then shook his head no.
“Not unless you do it again. Just less... hurting at the end. And more rope?”
Jack asked hopefully, and Aster couldn't stop the sudden racing in his heart.
“You're sure?” Aster asked, genuinely surprised, and when Jack nodded once,
Aster almost felt his heart soar.
There was no way this innocent creature could hurt anyone. Kozmotis was a fool
to believe such a thing. Aster was a fool just for believing it, even for a
day. And Jamie...
He'll come around.
-----
Aster and Jack walked into the building casually. Jack really began to relax
within Aster's workplace, much to Aster's relief. It made taking him to his
appointments a lot easier. The receptionist at the front didn't let Jack's
presence falter his attempts at flirting, and today as Aster signed Jack in,
the man went so far as to place his hand over Aster's.
Aster thought Jack was going to rip him a new one. He would have laughed, but
Jack grabbed Aster's arm and yanked him towards the elevators before he could
really react. They rode the elevator up to Sanderson's floor, Jack clinging to
Aster's arm the entire way. Even when the elevator doors opened, Jack didn't
want to let them go. They made their way to Sanderson's room, and along the
way, they ran into the short man, who looked at them curiously.
“Receptionist has wandering hands,” Aster explained with a shrug. Sanderson's
lips stretched into a smirk, and he pushed open his office door. Jack made a
noise and finally let go of Aster's arm, stepping inside the room and going
straight to the couch, sitting down in the corner of it. He looked around the
room fondly, then back over to Aster, who stayed standing in the doorway.
“Sanderson,” Aster said, catching the small man before he could step into the
room, “Do you mind if—Can I ask—Erm...” He rubbed at the back of his neck. He
could feel Jack looking at him curiously, but Sanderson caught on relatively
quickly. He nodded his head and gestured to Jack, telling him he'd be back in a
minute. Together, Sanderson and Aster stepped out of the room, closing the door
to keep their conversation relatively private.
When Sanderson gestured for Aster to speak, the taller man sighed and stuffed
his hands into his pockets, “There's...no easy way to mention this, but...” He
sighed and ran a hand down his face before shaking his head, “I was recently...
contacted by Jack's previous psychologist.”
Sanderson's easy smile suddenly fell. It seems Jack told him about the man.
This made it a little easier.
“He sent me a letter. I haven't told Jack about it, for obvious reasons, but...
the information within worries me. He demands Jack back. He even gave me a date
and time for me to 'return' him... and he made a rather... strong claim.” When
Sanderson made a face and gestured for Aster to get on it with, Aster blanched
and cleared his throat, “He claims that Jack--”
“Aster! Doctor Sanderson!” Another voice suddenly rang out, and running down
the hall was Jamie, adorned with his school bag and a reddened face. Sanderson
made a face of distaste, still upset about Jamie's previous transgression, “Is
J-Jack here?”
Aster immediately stepped in front of Sanderson's door, his brow furrowed, and
Sanderson cast him a wary look. Jamie read into the movement as well, and he
clenched his jaw, “We need to call the police! Now!”
“Be quiet!” Aster hissed out, “And I already told you, neither of us are doing
a damned thing until we get Sanderson's professional opinion!”
Sandy blanched and lifted placating hands, trying to calm the two down, but
between his height and his lack of voice, neither Jamie nor Aster paid him any
mind. Jamie looked even more irritated and he stepped into Aster's space,
squaring him up even though he was well more than a foot shorter. Aster scowled
and didn't back down. He wasn't one for violence, but he was going to hit this
kid if he tried to bite.
“You plan to just leave a murderer alone with Sanderson?! Who knows what he'd
do!” Jamie cried, gesturing to Sanderson who was still trying to get their
attention.
“Probably what he's been doing for the past few weeks! He's not a murderer!”
Aster defended, glaring at Jamie, “This isn't our job. This sure as hell isn't
yours, college boy. Back off and let the professional determine it for
himself.”
“Doctor Pitchiner already determined it!” Jamie pointed out, and Sanderson's
attempts at calming them down ground to a halt.
“Kozmotis?” Sanderson gasped, and the mere sound of his small voice was enough
to startled Aster and Jamie into looking at him. Sanderson looked pale, now,
and Jamie immediately assumed that was victory for him.
“See? Even Sanderson trusts Doctor Pitchiner's word!” He said, but Sanderson
held up a hand to quiet him down. Jamie's smile died as Sanderson's eyes
dropped to the floor, pensive. He tapped his fingers against his chin, glancing
twice at the door before he stepped towards it. He laid his hand upon the knob,
paused, then looked back at them and made firm gestures. Jamie's brow furrowed
further and he opened his mouth to protest, a worried, “But--” slipping out
before Sanderson cut him off with another firm motion.
Jamie shut his mouth, then sighed and nodded, “He says we should stay out here
while Sanderson talks to Jack.” He translated to Aster, who nodded his assent
as well. Sanderson gazed at them for a few more moments, then opened the door
and stepped in. Jack's head raised as he entered, smiling at the man as he shut
the door behind him. Sanderson smiled back, a pleasant thing, but there was
something in his eyes, a worry that wasn't usually there.
“S'everything okay?” Jack asked gently. Sanderson hesitated to answer, but he
made his way to his seat and settled down anyways. When he finally did answer,
it was with an uncertain gesture of his hand, and Jack's concern grew.
Sanderson pulled out his notepad and pen, and he began to write.
'Tell me about your previous psychologist. You mentioned them before. How did
you come to be in their care?' He wrote, and Jack's frown grew as he read it.
The man leaned back in the couch and looked away, thinking about it, and he
twisted his hands into his jacket.
“Do I have to?” Jack asked, peeking back at Sanderson, and when the short man
gave him a nod, Jack sighed and slumped over, “Alright... but... You won't tell
Aster, will you?”
Sanderson shook his head, but he knew it was pointless. It seemed Aster already
knew, or he knew enough to have formed his own opinions about Pitchiner. Still,
Sanderson wasn't lying. Jack's feet began to tap against the floor, and he
tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling instead of Sanderson.
“I, um... when I was... younger. My parents died. Were... killed, I guess.
Murdered. The police found me. Alone. In the closet. Covered in blood. Took me
in. Investigated it all. Threw me in foster care.” He tilted his head down, and
he grumbled, “Got kidnapped by one of 'em. The... foster parents.” He
straightened up and looked at Sanderson, “Started the appointments. A lot of
different doctors. All said the same stuff; inconclusive, uncertain evidence,
blah blah. Met him. Another doctor. Almost said the same stuff. But then...”
His eyes dropped, his mind replaying the night he told Pitch. The night he
finally broke down and whispered to him his most closely guarded secret. And
what it lead to after...
“I thought he loved me.” He whispered hatefully, his eyes widening a little,
his shoulders beginning to shake. He didn't want to talk about this anymore. He
was done with Pitch. He ran away, and that man wasn't going to find him again,
and even if he did, Jack would just run even further.
The scratch of a pen on paper drew Jack's attention back to Sanderson, and he
read his question before he began to laugh.
“Erm... no. Not father son...” Jack mumbled, embarrassed. He rubbed his hand
against the back of his neck and shrugged, “We fucked a lot. S'not his fault, I
sorta pushed it on him, though... But he treated me good at first. He pampered
me and gave me medicine and fucked me real good.” His eyes glanced to the door,
remembering Aster out there, and he blushed and tacked on, “But...”
Before the bad stuff happened, before everything went wrong, Pitch was a lot
like Aster. He was caring, gentle, made him feel good and gave him stuff that
made him feel better. He seemed to know just what Jack needed at the time.
Would Aster become another Pitch if he found out Jack's secret? He tried not to
think about it, but now that the thought was in his head, it began to grow.
Would Aster tie him down and abuse the answer from him on camera? Jack
shuddered.
Sanderson tapped his pencil on the pad, getting Jack's attention and luring his
eyes to the next question, simply asking, 'What's on your mind?'
“Aster,” Jack responded easily, glancing back at the door, then at his feet, “I
was thinking that he was a lot like Aster at first. But Aster doesn't give me
medicine, obviously. He's kind. He loves me... I think. And I wonder if...” He
shrugged, ducking his head, “I wonder... if he'll be like that man... The
doctor.”
Sanderson made a face, and he wrote another question. 'What happened with the
doctor? What made you think he doesn't love you?'
“I told him something and he got mad at me.” Jack muttered, knowing that wasn't
the whole story. He told Pitch he was a murderer. He told Pitch he had been the
cause of his parent's deaths. He didn't tell him why, of course, but he told
him that much, and it was enough to turn Pitch against him. “He started
these... um... tests? He said they would bring the truth out. Said I would be
compelled to be honest. He would tie me to a chair and push stuff into my mouth
or arms. The police thought I was getting drugged. Maybe I was.” He rubbed at
his arms, uncomfortable. Sanderson continued to watch him, tapping his pen
thoughtfully against the pad.
'What did you tell him?' Sanderson wrote, finally, and Jack felt himself grow
cold. He couldn't tell Sanderson. He didn't want Sanderson to hurt him. He
didn't want Sanderson to tell Aster and for Aster to hurt him. He just wanted
to leave it all in the past and never have to think about it again, but no
matter who he met, they were all insistent on making him dwell on it. It would
never go away. He was going to be haunted by this for the rest of his life...
He was a fool to think he could ever have a life with Aster.
His distress must have been obvious, for moments later, Sanderson's pad was
slipping into his vision once more, and a sentence was written there. Jack
blinked, taking a few moments to fully comprehend it, but when the words
registered in his mind, he reeled back, eyes wide.
“How did you--” He began to ask, and when he looked up, he saw Sanderson
wearing a similarly surprised expression. Sanderson withdrew his pad, still
staring at Jack, and Jack felt panic begin to flood inside of him. His
breathing labored, his heart hammered, and suddenly he was on his feet and
heading to the door.
Behind him, he heard Sanderson gasp and tap the pad, but he didn't want to stay
and see what he could have possibly written. He grabbed the handle to the door
and tugged it open, only to yelp and jolt backwards. On the floor right
outside, Aster had Jamie pinned to the ground, the both of them scratched up
and bruised while Jamie held in his hand a phone, opened with half a number
typed in. Both he and Aster looked up at Jack in surprise. Jamie began to
squirm, but Aster grabbed him by his hair and shoved him harder against the
carpet.
“Jack--!” Sanderson's quiet voice called out, but he, too, saw the scuffle and
fell quiet in shock.
“Get off of me!” Jamie cried, squirming harder under Aster's brute weight, but
the man didn't give. Instead, he looked back up at Jack and risked letting go
of Jamie's arm to dig into his pocket, tossing his car keys at his stunned
boyfriend.
“Go! Run! Now!” He barked, and Jack scrambled to catch the keys, but he
hesitated still, not at all sure what was going on. During this exchange, Jamie
managed to dial in the rest of the number and his phone began to ring—the
speaker activated. Aster cursed and reached forward to smack the phone away,
but even as it skidded across the carpet, the phone continued to ring.
“Shit!” Aster gasped, and he made to lurch forward and grab the phone so he
could hang up, but doing so allowed Jamie to slip out from under him. The teen
grabbed Aster by his ankles and tugged, sending the man down onto his stomach,
just out of arm's reach. The call was answered.
“Jamie?” Kozmotis' voice rang out from the speaker, and Jack felt bile, rage,
and fear bubble in his gut all at once, “What's going on?”
“Doctor! Call the cops!” Jamie shouted, and Aster cursed again and promptly
kicked Jamie in the jaw, sending him back. He scrambled towards the phone and
slammed the end call button, just as Kozmotis began to speak again.
“Jack, go!” Aster shouted again, and this time Jack didn't hesitated. He bolted
down the hall, skipping the elevators and going straight for the stairwell. The
sound of Aster and Jamie fighting followed him down until the door swung shut
behind him. He took the stairs in leaps, jumping down a majority of them, using
the railing to aid him. He made it to the ground floor when he heard sirens
blaring outside. The receptionist across the room looked at him, then gestured
him over. Jack gulped and ran to him, ducking behind his counter just as the
front door swung open. The receptionist pushed his chair back a little,
allowing Jack to tuck himself under the counter top where his legs would be.
“Alright, what's going on here?” North's familiar voice demanded to know,
sounding more than irritated, “We've been getting calls all morning about us
being here at two o'clock, and now we're getting even more saying there's a
fight going on that we need to break up?”
North's walkie crackled to life, and a bored voice came across it, almost
incoherent to Jack, but whatever news North had been given seemed to be the
last straw.
“And now we're getting a call saying there's a murderer on the loose?” He
barked, slamming a hand down on the counter top, making Jack and the
receptionist jump.
“Now, now, get your meaty hand out of my face, sir. I wasn't the one calling
your men over here! If you're so worried, go check it out yourself! You don't
need to spit your anger at me.” The receptionist scoffed, standing from his
seat and crossing his arms, “Go on, they don't pay me to deal with your type.”
North scoffed at him, but soon the sound of shoes stomping across the floor
echoed in the room. Some of the police took the stairs, the others and North
took the elevator, probably to get to the top of the building and search
downwards. The moment all the noise stopped, the receptionist took a step back
and looked down at Jack, a grimace on his face.
“Don't tell me you punched our sweet Aster.” He said with a note of distaste.
Jack grimaced and shook his head no. The receptionist smirked at him, then
rolled his eyes and made a shooing gesture at Jack.
“Thank you,” Jack whispered to him as he crawled out from under his desk, his
cheeks a little red, “I... owe you.”
“A kiss from Aster will do just fine.” He winked at Jack, who grimaced again.
That earned him a delighted laugh, and another wave for him to go. Jack sighed
and smiled grimly, then peered outside at the remaining cars and policemen. He
tugged his hood over his head and headed out, keeping his face towards the
ground and his shoulders hunched. Once he stepped outside, he saw a few men
glance his way. One of them looked as if he was going to approach him, and just
as he began making his way over, their walkies went off.
“We got a 10-40 on floor twelve, requesting back up.”
“Back up for what?” The cop who had been approaching Jack scoffed, grabbing his
walkie and turning for the door instead. Jack hurried his pace. He made it to
Aster's car with no trouble, and he quickly unlocked it and got in the driver's
seat. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to wait for Aster, but he pushed the
key into the ignition and started the car anyways. With the motor running and
his foot ready to slam on the gas, he sat there and watched. He had a good view
of the front of the building where the cops mingled. Some went in, some went
back out, and almost ten minutes later, North and one other cop were stepping
out, pushing with then Aster and Jamie, both in cuffs and both battered even
more than before, though, Jack was pleased to note, Jamie looked much worse.
Sanderson was trailing behind them, panicked and gesturing wildly, and North
was watching his hands with a trained eye, obviously not liking whatever it was
he was saying.
Jack put the car in drive and left the parking lot before North or anyone else
who might recognize him could spot him there. He wasn't sure where he should
go. He had Aster's house keys, so he could return to the apartment, but he
didn't know how much Sanderson, Jamie, or Aster would tell the cops. He didn't
know if they were going to be looking for him there. He certainly didn't want
to be found, not knowing that Sanderson knew his secret.
But he would need provisions if he was going to be running. He'll need money,
and eventually, he'll need to change transportation. The apartment would be a
stop for him on his run. He wouldn't linger there longer than necessary.
He drove there patiently, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to
himself, and when he made it there, he parked in the usual spot and hurried
upstairs, house keys in hand and ready to unlock.
He made it up to the door when he noticed it had been broken into. The door
hung ajar, and inside, the smell of smoke wafted. He didn't hear the crackle of
a fire, and the smell was too subdued to be anything so big. He placed his hand
on the handle. Cold. He pushed the door open, already beginning to guess what
was going to greet him from the other side.
A puff of smoke curled from his lips. The lights were off, but his eyes
glittered from the sunlight spilling past the blinds. He was holding something,
stroking it with his thumb. Jack swallowed as he recognized the fur-lined
leather strip.
“Ah, Jack,” His silky voice purred out, delighted, “I'm glad you could make it.
You've been absent for our last few sessions... I was beginning to worry.”
Jack stood in the doorway, quiet, glaring, and Pitch gestured to the couch
beside him. Jack eyed the couch for a moment, but he didn't move. He continued
to stare at Pitch. Slowly, his cocky smile fell.
“Run if you'd like, Jack. I'll just find you again. You know I can, no matter
who hides you.” He lifted the collar in his hand, regarding it carelessly, and
he hummed out, “I have my connections... and I'll always get what I want. No
matter how convoluted it has to be.”
Jack's brow creased, and Pitch smirked at him. He gestured again to the couch,
and this time, Jack obeyed. He sat down, his eyes still on Pitch, and he
waited.
“You haven't been very good.” Pitch admonished gently, setting the collar down
on the armrest and leveling his gaze on Jack, “Evading me. Evading the police.
Whoring yourself out. Taking advantage of a hard-working man so that you had a
roof over your head... You know you could have all you wanted if you just came
back to me.”
“You'd arrest me.” Jack replied coldly, and Pitch's eyes widened in surprise.
“So he's learned to speak,” Pitch groused, obviously upset that he had played
no part in aiding Jack's rehabilitation. They stared each other down for a few
long moments, then Pitch cleared his throat and said, “I would have done no
such thing. I merely had your best interests at heart, Jack. I wouldn't dare
leave you to the hands of our less-than-competent law system.”
“Because being in your care was obviously much better.” Jack spat, and Pitch's
eyes narrowed.
“I don't think I like it when you talk back.” He muttered coldly. Jack shifted
on the couch, frowning still.
“You're welcome to leave.” Jack mentioned, gesturing to the door. Pitch glanced
at the door, then back at Jack.
“Do you want me to leave?” He asked him, bringing the cigarette back to his
lips and pulling another drag from it. Jack nodded silently, still staring at
him. Pitch sighed, and he snuffed the cigarette out on the armrest of the
leather chair.
“Fine. I'll go.” He stood, dusting off his clothes, “But I will give you the
chance to come willingly. After all... Aster knows the truth.”
Jack's eyes widened. He continued to stare at Pitch, his mouth falling open,
and Pitch smirked at him.
“I bet he's telling the police right now, in fact. After all, why would he care
about a whore like you? If you stay, who knows what will happen? The police
could be storming in any moment now, coming to take you away. And if you think
my care was questionable, then you're really not prepared for the prison
lifestyle.” Pitch brushed off his jacket once more, then eyed Jack, “Come with
me, however, and I'll ensure you won't get locked up. But you'll have to stop
running.”
Jack lowered his eyes, his heart racing in his chest. It was a heavy decision,
one that could ruin Jack's life if he chose wrong... Would Aster really do
that? Would he really just give him up like that? Pitch had done so before, but
wasn't Aster different?
The phone in the apartment began to ring. Jack flinched and Pitch glanced at
it, frowning. With a wave of his hand, he silently bid Jack to answer it.
“I'll be downstairs, Jackson. You know which car.” He turned and left, leaving
the door open behind him. Jack swallowed thickly and carefully picked up the
phone, pressing it to his ear with a shaking hand.
“Yes?” He whispered, and immediately he heard a relieved sigh.
“Ah, good, you're at Aster's home.” North's voice came through, and Jack felt
himself tense up, “Stay put, Jack. We're on our way to get you.”
“Wh—what?” Jack stammered, his eyes widening.
“Don't worry, Aster and Jamie told us the entire story. We have cars heading
your way right now. Should be about ten minutes until they reach you.” North
continued to say, but Jack had stopped listening.
Aster told them. He told them Jack killed his parents, and now they were coming
to arrest him. He really wasn't so different from Pitch after all...
The phone fell from his hands. Jack stood and ran out of the apartment, rushing
down the stairs. Pitch was waiting for him. He couldn't stay any longer.
 
***** Jurisdiction *****
Chapter Summary
     Another chapter with no smut. How dare I?
     Hope you all like it. Please comment and kudo, these things keep me
     alive and motivated! :D
     Also, I've updated the tags and the summary for the fic. Please keep
     this in mind from here on out (though I'm not sure how much longer
     this fic will go for tbqh)
Jack’s head rested against the cool glass of the car’s window, eyes gazing out
at the passing scenery, though he saw nothing. The world was passing by in a
blur and Jack was content to let it, staying in his own head, thinking about
what would happen now. He sighed, his breath fogging the glass near his nose,
and he focused on the receding circle of fog.
Why would Aster tell the police about Jack’s crime? Wasn’t he trying to save
him before? He had been fighting Jamie, wasn’t he? He threw the keys at him,
told him to run… so why would he tell? Maybe guilt was eating away at him.
Maybe he decided Jack wasn’t worth the trouble. Maybe he—
Jack’s eyes darted up as they pulled onto a highway. He looked around for a
quick moment. He didn’t know where they were, but they definitely weren’t
headed to Pitch’s home.
“This isn’t the way home.” Jack pointed out, turning to look at Pitch. The man
glanced his way, but he didn’t respond and merely kept on going. The car sped
up, and Jack settled back into his seat. “Where are you taking me?”
Pitch sighed loudly through his nose, keeping his eyes on the road, and he
said, “Your tendency to run is much too strong to risk losing you in a busy
city like this one. I have a vacation home tucked into the mountains. I think
that might be better for you—better for us. It’s smaller, but I think I might
feel more comfortable knowing there aren’t so many places for you to hide.” He
reached a hand over, placing it on the top of Jack’s head and stroking. Jack
leaned away from his hand.
“You said I couldn’t run if I stay with you,” he mumbled, his brows furrowing,
“I won’t run.”
“Mm… I don’t trust you.” Pitch remarked, a small, bitter smirk on his lips,
“Besides, I have quite a few experiments I want to put you through. You weren’t
so fond of the last one we did, I know, but they truly are for your own good.”
“My own good or my complacency?” Jack questioned, afraid at the idea of being
tied up and drugged. Pitch looked at him with a wide-eyed gaze, and Jack shrank
back into his seat.
“My my… when did you swallow a dictionary?” Pitch asked sarcastically, and Jack
felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment. Pitch scoffed and pinched his arm, then
muttered, “Don’t pretend like you’re smart, boy. You and I both know you’re not
any better than the average whore. You spent too long in that social worker’s
care.”
“His name is Aster…” Jack mumbled, frowning down at his lap and shifting
uncomfortably. Pitch pinched him again.
“I don’t care what his name is and I don’t think you should care either. He
sold you out, boy. He doesn’t give a shit about you.”
Jack sighed and moved further away from Pitch’s hand, pressing himself to the
car door and resting his head against the window once again. He didn’t want to
think about Aster’s betrayal anymore. He just wanted to remember the good
parts, the parts where he felt like they actually loved each other…
Even those memories were turning bitter with abandonment. He closed his eyes
and hoped he would get his comeuppance. He hoped Aster would realize what he
had done and be torn apart by it. He hoped he would come running to take Jack
away, whisk him into his arms, kiss him dizzy and promise to keep him safe. He
could smell Aster from memory, and before he knew it, tears were rolling down
his cheeks. He turned his head away so Pitch wouldn’t see them.
In his hand, he squeezed the leather collar he took with him.
-----
“I have good news and bad news,” North said as he stepped into the
interrogation room where Aster sat, handcuffed to the table and his head on the
metal tabletop. He sat up straight slowly, one eye bruised and swollen, the
other open wide.
“Good news,” Aster demanded, and North set his cup of coffee on the table and
pulled out a key.
“Jamie isn’t pressing charges,” North explained, and he uncuffed Aster, who
eagerly tossed them onto the table, metal clattering against metal loudly.
“Bad news…?” He ventured, fear curling in his stomach. North hesitated, and he
sat down heavily in the small chair before he sighed.
“We didn’t find Jack.” He mumbled. Aster cursed under his breath and dropped
his head into his hands, feeling himself begin to tremble. North watched him
quietly, his lips pressed into a thin line. His fingers played at the cup in
front of him, then he gripped it and took a long pull, regretting it almost
instantly. Way too hot. “We did get a report of a black mustang pulling out of
the parking lot with someone matching Jack’s description in the passenger’s
seat....”
“Then Kozmotis has him.” Aster grumbled, lifting his head slowly, “Shit…”
“There wasn’t a sign of struggle… Jack went with him willingly.” North ran his
fingers through his slicked back hair, then slammed his fist against the table
and cursed, “I don’t know why! I told him to wait there for us! I told him we
would be there!”
“I should have talked to him. You should have let me talk to him. Hey—I didn’t
even get my phone call!” Aster yelled, sitting upright and glaring at the cop,
but North held his hands up in defense.
“Don’t blame me! It all happened way too quickly for us to even tell him the
whole thing! One moment I’m talking to him, the next, the line was
disconnecting!” North sighed and shook his head, “And now he’s with Kozmotis…
Why did you even tell him to run, anyways?!”
“I didn’t think the bastard would find Jack at my place. And I thought you were
going to…” Aster sighed and dropped his head in his hands again, closing his
eyes, “Nevermind. I don’t know. It wasn’t a smart decision. I mostly just
wanted him away from Jamie.”
“What the hell was going on with that, anyways? Neither of you are telling me
what caused it…” North prodded, his brow furrowed.
“It was nothing. Kozmotis going after Jack is all you need to know.” Aster
claimed flatly, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. “And Jamie was
helping him! Why aren’t you doing anything about that, anyways?”
“We’re still interrogating him,” North avoided the question, leaning against
the table heavily and asking Aster instead, “What aren’t you telling me, Aster?
This isn’t the whole story…”
Aster shifted in his seat, keeping his arms crossed… and he said nothing. He
kept his mouth firmly shut, and North scoffed at him.
“You have to be joking. This is like interrogating Jack all over again.” North
growled into his coffee. He took another long drink, then looked at Aster,
right in the eyes, “Look, whatever information you have can help us find Jack.
We don’t know why Kozmotis kidnapped him. We don’t know why he wanted to. All
we know is, we have an obsessed man on the run with a mentally… fragile victim
in his custody. The sooner we find them, the better for Jack it will be. “
“You know everything I know about Kozmotis. You have to ask Jamie for any more
information, he’s the brat who sold out his own patient.” Aster responded
coldly, lifted a hand to wave his prodding away. “And if you keep pushing, I’ll
have to ask for a lawyer.”
“Oh, come on, Aster, don’t do this.” North begged, his eyes full and genuine,
“What do you think is going to happen to you? Jamie dropped his charges.
Kozmotis is the culprit here. In fact, if you continue refusing to give us
information, I might as well throw ‘refusing to assist a police officer’ and
‘intentional obstruction of justice’ onto your plate!”
Aster squinted at North, then leaned forward, setting his hands on the table,
and he spat out, “Lawyer.”
“God—“ North growled, pushing himself up from his seat and he paced for a
moment before he slammed a fist against the table. Aster barely flinched.
“Fine! I’ll call for a lawyer! Sit here and wait.” He growled again, picking up
his coffee and muttering, “Jamie better be more compliant…”
He stepped out of that interrogation room, slamming the door behind him, and he
took a minute to contain himself. When he was sure he wasn’t going to just
explode, he took a breath and went to Jamie’s room instead. Upon opening the
door, he found the teen sitting there, uncuffed as well, with another one of
North’s men. He had been asking him about the fight, and Jamie was replying
curtly. A bad sign.
North stepped up to the cop and put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on. Do me a
favor and go find a lawyer for Aster.”
“He’s pressing charges?” Jamie asked immediately, sitting up in his seat. North
grimaced and held up a placating hand.
“Calm down, this isn’t about the fight. He’s not pressing charges on you.” When
the other cop left, North took his seat and set his coffee cup down, frowning.
As he settled in, Jamie slowly leaned back in his seat, wiping at his nose with
a semi-bloody napkin. North glanced at him, frowning. Out of the two of them,
Jamie looked the worst. “How are you holding up?” He asked, gesturing to
Jamie’s… everything.
“I’m okay.” Jamie sighed, looked down at his lap for a moment, fiddling with
the napkin, “Broken nose, black eye, cut lip… I look bad ass.”
North chuckled and shook his head, taking a sip from his coffee and sighing.
“I'm sure you're sick of talking about the fight, huh?” When Jamie nodded,
North smirked and set his coffee down, “Alright, then let's talk about
something else. What do you know about the relationship between Jack and
Kozmotis?”
“Doctor Pitchiner?” Jamie asked, his brows raising in surprise, “Not... much, I
guess. Jack was his patient, wasn't he? I think Doctor Pitchiner had been
looking for him for a while now.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, his
eyes wandering around the room, avoiding direct contact, “All I know is he's
been trying to get his hands on Jack again.”
“Is that so?” North huffed, resting his elbows on the table and tilting his
head, “Alright... So if I were to tell you that Kozmotis has Jack in his
custody...” Jamie's eyes jumped to North, his shoulders relaxing and a touch of
hope in his eyes.
“Is that true? Really?” Jamie asked in a rush, sitting up now, “Oh thank God.”
“Relieved?” North clarified, and Jamie laughed and ran his hand through his
hair, pushing it out of his messy face.
“More than that! Oh, this is good news.” Jamie sighed, slumping in his chair
and tilting his head back, smiling. Then, seconds later, he sat up again and
asked North excitedly, “So is Doctor Pitchiner bringing him here, then? Are you
going to detain him?”
North stared at Jamie quietly for a long moment, trying to figure out if he was
serious or not. The longer he stayed silent, however, the more anxious Jamie
became, and soon the brunet was leaning forward, tilting his head to squint at
North. “Hey? Still there?” He asked, bored, his nose crinkling, then relaxing
when it twinged with pain. North blinked at him, glanced down at his coffee,
then sighed and pushed the cup to the corner of the table, out of his way.
“Jamie,” He started, but he didn't know how to move on from there. Maybe it
would just be best to be straightforward... “Kozmotis... kidnapped Jack.”
Jamie snorted at him, leaning back in his seat again and shaking his head,
“Don't play games, North. Are you going to arrest him or what?”
“I'm being serious, here. Jack's been kidnapped. We don't know where Kozmotis
is taking him. For all we know, Jack could be dead by now.” North explained
again, only to pause and backtrack in the conversation, “Wait a minute, why do
you want us to arrest Jack?”
Jamie's smile dropped completely, and he began to say, “Well because he--” but
he fell quiet. He looked down at the table, thinking, and he leaned back in his
chair again. Aster hadn't told them a thing, it seemed. And, figuring they were
both being asked about the same thing, he called for a lawyer. If Jamie told
them what Kozmotis showed them on the CD, who knew how they would take it?
Especially when Jamie himself had no proof. Aster said he had it in his filing
cabinet at work, but how could Jamie trust that? If he sends the police on a
wild goose chase, they'd only dismiss him as an eyewitness. Or worse, they'd
consider him an accessory to Kozmotis' apparent 'kidnap.'
“Oh, shit,” Jamie whispered, realizing he was caught between a rock and a hard
place, “What did Aster tell you?” He looked back at North, and the man's brows
furrowed, his defenses immediately going up.
“I'm asking you, Jamie. Not him.” North said gently. Not much, then, Jamie
concluded, and he looked away once more, tapping his fingers against the table.
Aster and he made an agreement, hadn't they? They wouldn't say a thing until
Sanderson had the chance to evaluate Jack himself. Jamie had nearly broken it
already...
“Jamie, if there's something you think you should tell us about Jack--” North
began, and Jamie's head snapped up, his eyes wide.
“I-I need a call. My phone call. I get a call, right?” Jamie blathered out,
sitting rigidly in his seat. North's eyes widened a bit, then narrowed to slits
while his hands curled into fists.
“Don't tell me you're getting a lawyer...” North groused, but Jamie quickly
shook his head no.
“I need to talk to Doctor Sanderson. I can do that, right? Can't I? I just need
to call him.” Jamie said in a rush, and North's glare relaxed to a stare of
confusion.
“Sanderson? Hmm...” He leaned back and stroked his beard, his eyes casting
aside in thought, “I suppose I will allow it. Lucky for you, he is actually
just outside. Stubborn little man wouldn't take 'go home, your friends will be
fine' for an answer.” North pushed himself to his feet, grunting noisily, then
he made for the door, “Wait here, I will go get the Doctor.”
Jamie sighed and slumped in his chair as North left. He ran his hands through
his hair, his mind racing. Why would Kozmotis kidnap Jack? The whole point was
to get him arrested, throw him in jail and toss the key. What use did Kozmotis
have with a murderer? It wasn't like he still needed proof—he had the video of
Jack confessing to the crime! There was something else going on, something
between everything that had happened already that Jamie missed. Sanderson's
final decision on Jack's innocence would determine how the rest of this played
out.
It didn't take much longer before the door was opening again and Sanderson was
stepping inside, his brows raised and a brief look of concern sweeping across
his eyes. The door closed behind him, permitting no one else, but the mirror on
the other side of the room led Jamie to believe that they were being watched.
“Doctor,” Jamie sighed in relief, and he gestured Sanderson over, getting the
short man to stand beside his chair, the table obstructing them from the view
of the mirror from the waist down. Keeping his hands low, underneath the table,
Jamie began to sign.
'You spoke to Jack last. Aster told you what was going on, didn't he?' Jamie
asked first, his hands running but his eyes trained on Sanderson's face,
reading the worry and the discomfort in his eyes. Sanderson lifted his hands to
sign back, but when Jamie flailed and put his hands on Sanderson's, the man
seemed to catch on and kept his hands low.
'He didn't tell me the whole story, obviously. But I think I've caught on.'
'Let me fill you in first,' Jamie replied, frowning, 'Doctor Pitchiner is my
Psych professor. He overheard me talking to Jack on the phone, pulled me aside,
and told me all about Jack and what he had done. Doctor Pitchiner told me Jack
confessed to killing his parents and he gave me a CD to prove it. I showed it
to Aster. He took the CD from me, told me we would have you speak to Jack and
wait for your final decision before taking this to the police. I thought he was
going to destroy it, so I told Doctor Pitchiner,and he called the cops.'
Sanderson bobbed his head, following along with quick eyes, and when Jamie took
a break in his words, he was quick to respond, 'I'm assuming Aster fought you
earlier today because he thought you were calling the cops.'
'Yes.'
'And now Jack is missing.'
'Yes.'
'What was on the CD?'
Jamie grimaced, his hands floundering for a moment, searching for a way to say
it. 'Jack was tied up to a chair. Doctor Pitchiner was interrogating him. He
gave him a drug. M-E-T--'Jamie huffed and instead spoke, “Methamphetamine.”
Sanderson's brows shot high on his forehead, his lips parting in a silent gasp.
Jamie resumed signing, 'Jack began to break down, obviously, and Pitchiner took
it to his advantage and roused the truth from him—that he had killed his
parents.'
“No.” Sanderson said, firm in voice and stature, “In the case of
Methamphetamine being used on a patient--” He gritted his teeth, glanced at the
window, then signed in the plain view of both Jamie and whoever might be behind
the glass, 'Get the CD. Show North. Jack is not the murderer.'
And then, in a hiss, Sanderson said flatly, “You're fired.”
Jamie stared after him, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide, but Sanderson
left the room directly after. When the door swung shut, Jamie turned away and
looked down at the table, shame and confusion welling inside of him. North
stepped inside a moment later, and Jamie merely hid his face in his hands.
“I messed up,” He told North, and the man sighed, the sound of him scratching
his beard reaching Jamie.
“There's still time to fix it.” He mentioned, but Jamie didn't respond to that.
Instead, he lowered his head to the table, his hands cushioning him, and he
whimpered. He felt North pat his shoulder, tender and careful, and he mumbled,
“I'll give you some time.”
Jamie nodded mutely, head buried in his hands still, and North sighed and left.
Aster's lawyer had arrived—in record time, no less—and he headed his way.
Stepping inside the room, North frowned when he saw Sanderson had crept his way
inside as well, a hand on Aster's arm and a look of pure sympathy on his face.
The woman sitting with them looked up upon North's entrance, and she got to her
feet, her heels clicking on the tile.
“North! Very nice to see you,” She said with a bright smile, her short hair
tucked behind one ear before she jutted her hand out to shake his, “Toothiana
Desai—but call me Anna.” North took her hand and she shook it firmly, only to
let go and gesture her thumb at Aster, “Heard he need a lawyer and ran right on
over. Boy, do we have a story for you.”
“I feel I should be sitting,” North remarked, and he found his seat quickly.
Anna giggled and sat back down beside Aster, putting a hand on his arm at first
and waiting for him to give her permission before she looked at North.
“Aster has a CD in his possession with recorded evidence of Kozmotis Pitchiner
abusing Jack physically and mentally. Within this video, Pitchiner is seen
tugging at Jack's hair, forcing him to take illegal drugs, and tormenting him
through his bad high. In this video, many claims are made, both towards Jack
and Kozmotis. Such claims include Kozmotis committing statutory rape against
Jack, physical and verbal threats being made, and...” She paused, looked once
more at Aster, then bit her lip, “And a confession from Jack... to the murders
of his parents.”
North's eyes widened, and for a moment he was glad he forgot his coffee in
Jamie's interrogation room, or else he would have spilled it by now. He opened
his mouth to say something, but Sanderson's hand was quicker,and though neither
Aster nor Anna could follow sign, North knew it just as well as the stout
Doctor. 'Such a confession cannot hold water, especially under Jackson's
circumstances when the confession was made. He had been drugged, tortured,
humiliated, and ultimately forced to admit to these crimes. Kozmotis' methods
are not legal, nor do they hold any accountability in the eyes of our
colleagues. If you show this video to APA, they'd not only dismiss Jack's
confession, but they would strip Kozmotis' title of Doctor and attempt to have
him detained—as he should be.'
Once more, North was stunned, but he didn't stay silent for long. He leaned
forward in his chair, his eyes flaring in rage, and he demanded, “So you expect
me to let Jack walk free? Even after such a confession?! I would not risk my
community like that!”
“You can't touch him.” Aster spoke up, his arms crossed and a scowl on his
face, “No one would believe that confession, not if they have a little bit of
sense in them. Jack's the victim. He's no murderer.”
'Any evidence you might have is inconclusive, just as it was the first time you
investigated the murders. Kozmotis' forced confession will not be acceptable in
court.' Sanderson backed Aster up, a firm frown on his lips.
“Even if you brought him in and questioned the hell out of him, you wouldn't be
able to do anything about it.” Anna pointed out last, sitting delicately in her
chair, one leg crossing over the other, “Jack has already been tried for the
murder of Mr. and Mrs. Overland, and he had been found innocent. You and I both
know you can't try a person twice for the same crime.”
North blinked once. Then again. Then a third time before he stammered out,
“What the hell have you three been doing? How did you—in half an hour?!”
“I just have a damn good lawyer,” Aster replied with a smirk, and Anna clicked
her tongue and pushed at him playfully.
“Down, boy.” She giggled, and Aster tilted his head toward her instinctively.
“The truth is, we're all concerned about Jack's safety right now. Anything to
get him back to us and out of Kozmotis' hands will be useful, even tarnished
information such as this. Kozmotis has used violent methods to get his way
before. He has manipulated Jamie into following him, almost did the same to
Aster, and when all else failed, he kidnapped Jack and ran. We need to find and
stop him before he can do any more harm to him.”
“You need to find him,” Aster added, sitting upright and leaning forward,
meeting North's eye, “Because if that asshole touches a hair on my boyfriend's
head--”
“Aster, please,” Anna interrupted him, snapping her fingers twice, immediately
forcing Aster to shut his mouth and turn away, “He's upset, you understand. But
he's right, as well. Time is of the essence, and every moment you spend sitting
in here and interrogating us, the further Kozmotis gets with Jack.”
“We have men following his trail right now,” North huffed out, but all three of
them looked doubtful at the statement. North shifted in his seat, grinding his
teeth, then stood once more. “We'll sort this mess out once we have Jack safe
and out of Kozmotis' hands. I'll take to searching myself. Sanderson, I may
need you in case any more damage is done on the poor boy. Aster, I expect that
CD on my desk by the time I make it back with Jack. And you,” He pointed at
Anna, who pursed her lips and squinted in response. North paused, relented with
a quiet, “Miss Anna... You've earned my respect.”
Aster made a sheepish face and looked away. Anna's brow quirked up, her eyes
narrowing further, but when North said nothing more, she merely huffed and
waved a hand at him, “Off with you, you big brute. I don't need your respect.”
North floundered for a moment, but followed her orders eventually, stepping to
the door with Sanderson in tow. As they slipped out of the room, Aster looked
once at Anna, noticing her still pouting, and he shot her a small smirk. When
she met his eye, he rose a brow at her, and immediately her cheeks pinked.
Inappropriate, they both thought, but neither said another word on it.
Instead, Aster looked down at the table and mumbled, “I have another favor,
Anna...” He peeked out of the corner of his eye, seeing her looking at him in
patient curiosity, “I need to know where Kozmotis lives.”
---------------------
Jack wasn't surprised that the passion Pitch had once shown him was no longer
there. The devotion he held for him, the gentleness in his touch, the sweet
words lingering in his ears as they laid together in Pitch's satin bed. He
might have expected the coldness, the way Pitch would flit from the room Jack
would step into, the way he seemed to ignore any noise or word that would slip
from his lips. The only time Pitch's eyes lingered on him was when he thought
Jack wasn't paying attention or when Jack slept. Jack could feel the gaze even
in the fog of sleep, oppressing, judging, calculating, deciding what the next
step would be.
And what blindsided Jack was the pure vitriol Pitch seemed to spit at him, the
acid his words were lined with, the fire that followed his strikes. The ropes
left bruises in his wrists and ankles, the chair splinters in the skin of his
forearms. Pain is dulled and yet amplified with the drugs Pitch plunges into
his veins. He sees them breaking where his arm bends. It makes him sick to take
them. It makes him worse when he doesn't.
The worst of it all is when Pitch fucks him, Jack pressed face down on the bed,
his knees bent and his thighs trembling. He clings to the sheets they will ruin
as he's penetrated. The sensation is no longer pleasant for him. It feels
tainted. Cursed. It leaves behind a sting of betrayal that pulses each time his
muscles protest. He bites back a name that threatens to slip free, not in
pleasure, but as a plea, a cry for help. This is no longer Jack's area. This
can no longer be his safety net, his fallback when things become too trying. He
barely gets through the first night without retching and sobbing himself
unconscious on Pitch's bed. He barely gets through the fifth night without
doing it again.
At night, he digs his fingers into his thighs, his hips, his neck, trying to
scratch away the bruises Pitch leaves in the throes of heat. Half of his mind
awaits Aster's arrival, the other reminds him that he is alone and that Aster
gave him up once faced with the truth. Still, it's easier to be hopeful than
not.
He hid the collar beneath his pillow. He strokes it in the middle of the night,
takes comfort from it, still thinks of himself as a pet, as Aster's, as his
kit. He dreams of his weight over him, the taste of his dark skin, the
sensation of his green eyes staring at him as his lips poured love, lust,
devotion.
Pitch nearly caught him with the collar one day, perhaps three days after he
had been taken, perhaps a week. Jack couldn't care less for the time that had
passed. All he knew was he barely got away with tucking the collar away just as
Pitch opened the door.
“I will be going out for a while.” Pitch told him in an even voice, “I trust
you will behave yourself.”I trust you will be here when I return. Jack
grimaced, but he nodded anyways. Pitch stared at him for a moment longer before
he sighed.
“There is enough food in the kitchen to last you for a while. I shouldn't be
gone for longer than three days.” Pitch continued to say, tapping his fingers
against the door he still held open, “I have locked the cars up. You will not
be able to take them. You can try walking your way to the city, but you're more
likely to die from starvation before you get there. I've also installed cameras
throughout the property. I'll be watching.”
Jack nodded again with nothing else to say. Being alone in this house didn't
sound like a particularly riveting time, but it sounded a lot better than being
alone with Pitch. He wasn't sure how much more he could take the abuse.
He watched from his bedroom window as Pitch pulled his car out of the garage
and drove away. When his car was no longer visible, Jack retreated to his bed.
He pulled the collar back out and stroked the leather.
-------
“I'm not sure about this, Aster,” Anna said to her companion as they sat in his
car. The engine was still running, the headlights on, but neither one of them
moved to get out of the car just yet. Aster kept his eyes on the large house
before them, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“You don't have to come. You've already done more than enough,” Aster reassured
her, the leather of the steering wheel groaning under his tight grip. Anna
blinked at him, worry in her eyes, and she quietly nodded.
“I'll... I'll keep the car running. Just in case.” She promised, and Aster
smiled and nodded back, looking her way. Their eyes met for a long moment, long
enough for Anna to reach out, cradle Aster's jaw in that intimately familiar
way of when they had been something more than friends. Aster leaned into her
touch, his eyes drifting shut for a moment as he allowed himself a second of
bliss, of security.
“If they aren't here-” Aster began to whisper, but Anna hushed him gently,
swiping her thumb across his bottom lip.
“Let's take this one step at a time, Aster.” She told him, feeling him nod
against her palm more than seeing it.
“Okay,” Aster whispered, putting his hand over hers for a moment, then finally
pulling away, strong once more. “Okay.” He unbuckled his seat belt, pushed open
his car door, and stepped outside.
The lights within the house were off. There were no cars in the driveway. As
far as Aster knew, Kozmotis had already killed Jack, disposed of his body, and
skipped town in the time it took them to locate his place of residence. Surely
the police had already been here, Aster told himself as he walked up to the
front door. Surely they had found nothing, and that was why they weren't here.
Kozmotis wouldn't be here and neither would Jack, but Aster was bound to find
something that would lead him to them. Something the police missed in their
haste.
He knocked on the door to make sure, waiting there for a minute, then two, and
when no answer came, he tried the knob.
Open.
Aster let the door swing open, trepidation in his veins. This wasn't right.
There was no reason for the door to be open. Still, Aster stepped inside.
The house was dark and hard to navigate through until Aster found the first
light switch, greeting him to a living room fashioned with plush white carpets,
white walls with black trim, and a black mode furniture set placed in a
minimalist design. To the left, stairs. To the right, an office, the desk, and
a chair facing Aster, the first cluttered in an organized chaos, the latter
empty. That room, in particular, smelled heavily of cigarette smoke.
Aster walked into the living room, passing the black love seat facing the
fireplace at the other side of the room. There was an archway leading to what
looked like the kitchen beside it. Aster was about to step inside when he heard
a noise upstairs, like a too-heavy footfall. He paused in the middle of the
room, his eyes glued to the ceiling as if he might be able to peer through the
wood if he stared hard enough. His hands were shaking, he soon realized. He
tightened them into fists in a vein attempt to stop them. Another noise from
upstairs had Aster flinching. The sound of glass knocking against glass,
followed by another heavy thunk.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Aster pushed himself forward, moving towards the
staircase and grasping the railing. He took the first step, then stopped. A
shuffling noise started up, moving from one end of the house towards the
stairs. Suddenly intimidated by the idea of facing Kozmotis directly, Aster
began to retreat. He moved back into the living room, then hesitated once more
when he heard someone walk down the stairs.
No, he wasn't going to run. He had come here with the complete intent to face
Kozmotis, find out where Jack was, and rescue him. He wasn't going to allow his
nerves to get the better of him. He had never met this man properly. The only
thing he had ever received from him was the letter, so he couldn't let his
imagination fill in the rest.
Aster scrabbled to grab the nearest thing he could use as a weapon, ending up
with a metal lamp, the fabric shade falling off in his rush. He counted ten
more footfalls before a tall, thin, unassuming man rounded the corner. His jet
black hair was sleep mussed, ashen face glinting in the lamplight. He paused
when he spotted Aster, blinking tiredly as if he had just woken up. Aster
clutched the lamp tighter, then swung it out in front of him as if it were a
knife. This, subsequently, pulled the plug until it popped from its socket, and
the lamp flickered out, sending the room into semi-darkness. The lamp standing
in the far corner, after all, had remained on.
The man blinked tiredly, pulling his black silken robe tighter around himself,
and he asked in a thick, sleepy voice, “Did you really break into my home
at...” He rubbed at his face, then guessed, “I don't know—Midnight? To steal a
lamp I bought at Ikea?”
Aster took a breath, glanced at the lamp in question, then back at the man
before he demanded strongly, “What did you do with Jack?”
The man froze at the question, his hand slowly dropping from his face. He
looked at Aster closer, this time, studied his features, noticed the shake in
his hands, and he squinted at him. “Ah,” He mumbled, feeling more awake now
than two minutes ago, “So you must be Bunnym--”
“Aster. Seriously, just Aster,” Aster rushed to correct, embarrassed by his own
last name, but he pushed that aside and asked again, “What did you do with
Jack?”
“Hm,” Kozmotis stepped away from the staircase and into the living room,
stopping beside Aster and pushing the lamp down. Aster's grip loosened, then
let go of it, letting it drop to the ground. Kozmotis sneered, then continued
walking, going to the kitchen instead. As he passed through the archway, he
beckoned Aster to follow with a curl of his finger. Aster gulped, but quietly
walked after him. He wasn't certain what had him so scared. As far as Aster
could tell, Kozmotis was just a man. A deluded, sinful man, but a man no less.
When he entered the kitchen, he found Kozmotis popping a cup into his Keurig
and start brewing. As he waited for his drink, he admitted, “I'll be honest, I
was not expecting you, of all people, to come. Tell me, has Jamie been
arrested?”
“You're avoiding my question,” Aster pointed out, standing awkwardly in the
middle of the kitchen. Kozmotis smirked at him, a sarcastic thing, and he
crossed his arms.
“And you're avoiding mine. Now, I'm not sure about you, but I'm much more
interested in a conversation, not an interrogation. So..?” The Keurig finished
brewing and Kozmotis picked up his cup, letting the steam waft in his face as
he inhaled the scent. Aster licked his lips nervously.
“Last I heard, he was being held for further questioning. Not arrested,
though.” Aster confided, and Kozmotis' cool stare twisting into one of
disappointment.
“I see,” He mumbled, tapping his finger against the cup he held, “How...
upsetting. I take it he gave the police the CD, then?”
“He didn't. I did.” Aster said without hesitation. Kozmotis' eyes hardened at
that, “To show North the torture you put Jack through.”
“And surely he saw the confession?” Kozmotis pressed, bringing his drink closer
to his lips.
“He did.” Aster said after a breath, his brows raising a fraction, “Null and
void.”
Kozmotis stared at Aster for a long moment, unmoving. His eyebrow twitched,
then his upper lip, and with a sudden shout, he threw his cup into the sink,
shattering it along with splashing his tea everywhere. Spinning around,
Kozmotis ran both hands through his hair and shouted, “Are you fucking kidding
me right now?! After everything I went through--”
“'Went through?' You drugged him!” Aster shouted back, but Kozmotis let out a
bark of laughter at the claim.
“I did no such thing, fool! I injected him with saline—a placebo! His reactions
to the 'drug' were all his own!” Kozmotis crowed, and his smile grew when he
saw Aster hesitate, “Oh, but you didn't know that, did you? I'll be honest, I
did a poor job showing the vial in the video, which was why I had to kidnap
him—so I can recreate it. Once I have adequate proof, his confession, and my
name wiped clean, I'll finally see that murderer behind bars.”
Aster slowly shook his head, his heart pounding and he stammered out, “N-no,
it... you can't get off that easily! You raped him! Beat him!”
“He was a drug addict with one too many fantasies about me during his high. He
stole medication from me, made the ridiculous and scandalous claims. But, as
before, he has no proof such things happened. His bruises and cut marks and
scratches were all self-inflicted. He is a little demon, Aster, who will
manipulate and lie to get exactly what he wants.” Kozmotis ranted, approaching
Aster in five long strides, forcing the other man to back himself up against
the wall, his heart pounding in fear.
He's just a man, Aster reminded himself mentally, he's just a man, nothing
more.
Steeling himself, Aster refused to be controlled. He stood up straighter, a
fire glinting in his eyes, and he shoved Kozmotis back, regaining his ground
all the while pointing out, “What bold claims you make, Doctor! Could it be he
learned his subterfuge from you? The way you tricked him into thinking you had
drugged him, how you manipulated Jamie to do your dirty work, how you nearly
had me falling for the same bullshit! You're quite conniving yourself,
Pitchiner! Who's to say you haven't had a day too long to think about all
this?! You seem to have all your bases covered, all except for that one CD!”
Aster cackled, shaking his head, “Well, it's too bad its already with the cops,
isn't it?”
Kozmotis took another step back, his legs quivering as if he might collapse for
a brief moment. His eyes were wide and Aster realized he looked trapped. This
little victory made Aster grin.
“Once I make the new video, my name will be clean! Aster, please, you're a
reasonable man. Can't you see he's playing with you? Playing with both of us?”
“Where is he, Kozmotis,” Aster demanded, ignoring Kozmotis' attempts to confuse
him.
“He's a murderer, Aster. The proof is on that CD! If you let him go, he'll turn
on you next! Don't become a victim, help me fight him!”
“Where is Jack?!” Aster yelled, slowly advancing on Kozmotis, backing him up
until he was pressed against his kitchen counter. Kozmotis was panting, his
thin chest expanding and contracting in quick succession.
“I'll never tell you,” Kozmotis declared with a sneer, “Let the cops have the
CD, fine, but I'll just have to work faster to get the confession. I will
recreate the experiment and your precious Jack will be sent away like he
deserves!”
“You're delusional.” Aster spat, his own eyes going wide, “He's innocent,
Kozmotis. You're letting your emotions get away with you.”
“He confessed! It's my job to pick apart my patients' minds, to discover their
innermost secrets and fears! To determine if they are a threat to society! I
cannot let a murderer walk free!” Kozmotis declared, his voice strong and
unwavering when the rest of him trembled and cowered. Aster clenched his jaw
tightly, the sound of their yelling draining out and leaving a heavy silence in
their ears. Kozmotis was panting, sweating at the brow. His eyes wide and
desperate. Aster was struck in that moment by how much Kozmotis believed in
this, how dedicated he seemed to be. One little confession couldn't have
warranted all of this, could it?
“There's something else,” Aster mumbled, his voice almost as loud in their ears
as their yelling had been as it shattered the silence. Kozmotis sucked in a
shuddering breath, held it, then nodded.
“The police report.” He replied, just as quiet. Aster took a step back,
allowing the man space so he could breathe, “There were two reports made. One
from North's precinct, the other from the next town over. The crime took place
on disputed grounds for the two stations. North ended up with the case. I'm
sure he shared with you his side of the story; Jack found tucked safely in the
closet, traumatized and in need of rescuing. His parents murdered in passion,
no chance of saving them...”
Kozmotis looked up at Aster and asked, “Well? Does that sound about right?”
Aster blinked and nodded uncertainly, muttering a meek, “Yeah... about.”
Kozmotis huffed, smirking mirthlessly, and he looked away with a shake of his
head, “The report the other precinct has is vastly different. And upon my
discovery of this report... I knew it had to be him. It was just a matter of
getting it out of him.”
“So you beat it out of him?” Aster accused, and Kozmotis scowled.
“I didn't—!” He cut himself off, taking a breath to calm himself down, then
repeated in a calmer voice, “I didn't abuse him. Didn't rape him. These things
he claims... These attempts at victimizing himself... they're all lies.
Fantasies. Delusions. He was in a fragile state of mind, Aster. It isn't
uncommon for the patient to grow inappropriately attached to their doctor...”
Aster scoffed, but he didn't allow that train of thought to continue. Instead,
he demanded, “Tell me, then, what this other report said.”
Kozmotis blinked and he looked up at Aster, his gaze hopeful. A moment passed
before Kozmotis breathed out, “I can do better than that.” He looked into
Aster's eyes, then turn and slipped out of the kitchen in one sudden movement,
all the while calling out over his shoulder, “Come.” Aster opened his mouth to
argue, but the other man was much too quick, leaving Aster no other choice than
to chase after him. He was lead through the living room and up the stairs,
passing room after room until Aster found Kozmotis standing before a locked
door. Kozmotis revealed a key from his pocket, twisting it into the knob, but
before he opened the door, he looked at Aster and said to him, “The things I
will show you must stay within these walls. This isn't to protect me, mind you,
but to protect you. If any of this information spreads publicly, you can find
yourself facing charges.”
“Just show me.” Aster pressed, impatient and tired of Kozmotis blathering on.
The man sighed, but he pushed the door open nonetheless. They stepped inside,
one right after the other, and Aster found himself in another office, though
this one smelled more of chemicals and decay. Lining one shelf towards the back
of the room was a series of jars with different body parts floating in a
yellow-gray liquid. A brain, an eye, and even an entire human hand sat well
preserved in their respective jars. The desk in the room's center was made of a
dark oak and was covered with papers and files, much less organized than the
office downstairs. A five ball pendulum sat at the corner of the desk, the
metal ball in the center missing. A pen laid uncapped on a short stack of
papers, blue ink spilling out onto the sheets. Kozmotis paid it no mind and
instead walked to the filing cabinet in the corner, extracting a manila folder
and presenting it to Aster.
“Inside will be the file the other precinct had. This one, I believe, will hold
the truth of what happened that night.” Kozmotis said in a grave tone, watching
as Aster took the file from him. Aster glanced once more at Kozmotis, then
opened the file.
The first thing Aster saw was Jack's mugshot, presumably, right after the
murders took place. He was wide-eyed and ghostly, his dark hair mussed and
tangled, his bottom lip curled, and obvious tear tracks ran down his cheeks.
And the most obvious thing, he was absolutely drenched in blood.
“B-but...” Aster mumbled, recalling North explaining to him that he had been
found in the closet, untouched and only mentally harmed.
“Keep reading.” Kozmotis urged in a whisper, his eyes glued to Aster's face.
Aster swallowed down another pitiful mumble and he forced himself to read the
report.
'The police responded to a call at [REDACTED] around 0100 hours. The neighbors,
[REDACTED], had reported hearing screams from within the house. Police arrived
on the scene at 0113 hours and proceeded inside the house. The living room
showed signs of a struggle, though the kitchen and guest bedroom downstairs
remained untouched. In the master bedroom upstairs, police found a thirteen-
year-old Jackson F. Overland kneeling over the corpses of Mr. Jack Overland and
Mrs. Seraphina Overland, who had been stabbed excessively in the torso,
stomach, and thighs on the bed. Jackson exuded extreme confusion, hysteria, and
loss of memory of the events of the murders. A standard kitchen knife is
believed to have been the weapon used, which police discovered missing from the
residence.
Footprints were found outside, leading from the back door to the fence
separating the Overland residence from their neighbor. The prints are thought
to belong to a child due to their size, though further information could not be
found. The investigation ended when the Burgess Police Department claimed
jurisdiction over the case. Any and all information shall be transferred to the
Burgess Police Department.'
When Aster lowered the file, his eyes wandering away as he was consumed by his
thoughts, Kozmotis spoke up in a gentle tone, “Jack was found kneeling over the
bodies of his parents. The knife was gone, but he was covered in their blood.
There is no question in my mind that he had done this!”
“Why doesn't North know about this?” Aster asked first, his voice rough but his
mind doubting. Jack was such a sweet, timid man. How could he have done such a
thing?
“The fool turned down help from the other department. He's too proud of his own
work to accept help of any kind.” Kozmotis scoffed, rolling his eyes. He looked
back at Aster and said earnestly, “But now... You know the truth. Now you can
see what I see!”
Kozmotis extended a hand towards Aster, making Aster look up at him, “Join me.
Help me prove to North and his men that Jack is the murderer. Help me put this
lunatic behind bars, and put this case to rest.”
Aster stared into Kozmotis' eyes for a long moment, considering. He needed to
hear it from Jack. He needed to know why he did this. Why he hid it from Aster
all this time. He needed to be told by Jack himself that they were wrong,
and...
He needed to go with Kozmotis. It was the only way.
Clasping their hands together and shaking, Aster said in a rough voice, “Bring
me along, then. I need to see the truth exposed.”
Kozmotis grinned, an innocent thing that hid a sharp silver tongue, and he
replied calmly, “Smart man... We will waste no time.” Taking the lead, Kozmotis
walked downstairs, heading for the garage. Aster followed after a beat, pulling
out his phone when Kozmotis vanished from his line of sight.
'No time to explain call cops follow me' Aster sent to Anna, shutting off his
phone's ringer before he chased after Kozmotis.
When they reached the garage, Kozmotis opened the passenger's door for him,
allowing the man inside. Aster thanked him under his breath and slid in,
getting comfortable while watching Kozmotis step around the car and get into
the driver's seat.
They pulled out of the garage. Aster glanced out the window, tapping his
fingers thoughtfully against his thigh. He didn't see Anna or the car. He
vaguely wondered if she left, then reassured himself that he was being stupid.
She was a good woman. She wouldn't have abandoned him...
The first stretch of their drive was quiet. Tense. Aster couldn't stop his leg
from bouncing and his fingers from tapping. Kozmotis drove with no hint of
discontent aside from his shifting eyes, constantly glancing Aster's way.
Aster's first words seemed much too loud over the sound of the engine, “Where
are we going?”
“A place I own tucked away in the mountains. I had purchased it for my
daughter, but...” He glanced away, then back to the road, “I believe isolation
from busy cities will assist in my tests on Jack.”
“Away from prying eyes and nosy neighbors, you mean...” Aster mumbled, almost
flinching when Kozmotis shot a look his way.
“Mock all you like, you and I both know you wouldn't be here unless you held
doubt.” Kozmotis huffed, his brow furrowing, “Besides, once you hear the truth
from Jack himself... then you'll be on my side.”
Aster didn't respond and they lapsed back into silence. Aster looked into the
side mirror, seeing the road behind them was mostly empty. He could see only
three pairs of headlights, one so far behind they were but pinpricks of lights
in the mirror. Aster fought the urge to check his phone. He didn't want to seem
suspicious, but he also couldn't help himself from asking, “You're putting a
lot of trust in me... taking me to him.”
Kozmotis smirked and replied calmly, “I have nothing to hide. I only wish to
expose the truth.”
Their drive took them off the freeway and onto back roads. No cars followed.
Aster wondered if Kozmotis was actually taking him elsewhere to dispose of him.
His worries slipped away when they pulled onto an unpaved road and the outline
of a mansion appeared in the darkness.
“You bought this place for your daughter?” Aster asked incredulously, getting
out of the car to take in the extravagance properly.
“I paid the down payment. She would have been able to pay the mortgage
herself.” Kozmotis explained casually, and when Aster only gawked at him
further, Kozmotis shrugged and said, “I come from a rich family. Money was of
no concern. I only wonder why she decided to live a middle-class life with her
foolish husband...”
“Love makes people do stupid things,” Aster mumbled, taking interest in the
brickwork along the small dirt patch bearing rose bushes. He nudged one of the
bricks with his foot, jumping when it fell out of place. Kozmotis shot him a
dirty look, making Aster flush and mutter an apology before taking a knee so he
could slide it back into place. Kozmotis sighed and headed towards the door,
taking out his keys and unlocking it.
“Come along, Aster. We have much to do to set things--” Kozmotis had only just
begun to turn when Aster lifted the brick above his head and struck him with
it, throwing the man back against the door. Blood bubbled from his temple and
his eyes fluttered, unable to focus as consciousness left him. His hands
scrabbled at the door in a lazy attempt to find purchase, then he collapsed in
a puddle of limbs, not even a grunt coming from him. Aster stood over him for a
moment longer, making sure he didn't stir, then he dropped the brick by his
body and stepped into the house.
The place was dark, but a faint light upstairs drew Aster's attention. He
didn't bother to try the other rooms, he merely headed straight for the glow,
all the while calling out, “Jack! It's just me!”
Aster thought he heard the pattering of feet followed by a trio of thumps as if
something had fallen. Not thinking ahead, Aster ran up the remaining steps and
started throwing doors open, searching for his lover.
“Jack!” He shouted again, growing frantic the more he had to search. Jack could
be hurt, he could be dying, and Aster couldn't find him in this impossibly
large house. The outside had been daunting, but inside was downright
labyrinthine. The halls stretched out and branched off in different niches and
nooks, each room withholding possible hiding spots and doors to even more
rooms. The furniture was sparse and covered in white sheets, giving the place
an almost abandoned feel, but Aster knew he had to be on the right track. He
just had to be...
He threw one more door open and all but yelled in frustration when he found
himself in a bathroom. “Jack!” He shouted, straining his voice as he did so.
His heart was pounding from the exertion and panic. What if he wasn't here?
What if Kozmotis had lied to him? Had brought him here to kill him or distract
him or... or test him to see if he was actually trustworthy? He should have
waited until he knew for sure! Aster cursed at himself loudly, pacing in the
hall before the bathroom. What was he going to do now? He had no Jack, no
proof, no idea--!
Aster let out a yell and leapt away when a hand touched his back. Spinning
around, he found Jack standing there, his body turned away from him as if he
was ready to run away at a moment's notice. The hand he had touched him with
was tucked against his chest as if it had stung him. His eyes were wide and
red, distrustful but hopeful, and his lips trembled as he opened his mouth to
speak.
Nothing came, at first. His hand shook and tears welled. Aster took a step
forward and stretched out his arms to embrace him, but Jack stepped away from
him, on edge. He was trying to fight the tears, trying not to break down, and
finally, he spoke in a watery voice, “You called the cops on me.”
“I didn't,” Aster said quickly, keeping his voice level and calm despite the
tumult of emotions crashing within him. The last thing he needed was to scare
Jack any more than he was already. “I called them to protect you, not arrest
you. Jamie told me Kozmotis was headed for you.”
Jack's lip trembled again, more tears welling up, and they slowly began to
fall. His shoulders hunched and his head dropped to hide his sobs. Aster took a
tentative step forward, then another when Jack didn't retreat.
“Jack,” He whispered, lifting a hand to brush it against his cheek, his heart
clenching when Jack sobbed harder and immediately leaned into his touch,
seeking comfort so desperately. “Please tell me what happened that night.”
“No,” He begged, bringing his visible hand up to hold Aster's against his
cheek, turning his head enough to place a fleeting kiss to the inside of his
wrist, “You'll hate me.”
“I love you,” Aster said, his voice trembling with how true it was, “Nothing in
the world could change that fact.”
Jack let out a few more trembling sobs, then began to nod before he whispered,
“I love y-you, too.”
“Will you tell me? Please?” Aster asked again, ducking his head to try and meet
him eye to eye. Jack looked anxious at first, trying to avoid his gaze, but
then he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He nodded once more.
“Okay,” He mumbled, taking the last step forward before he crumpled against
Aster's chest, wrapping both arms around Aster's middle. Aster closed his eyes
the moment Jack leaned into him and held him in return, squeezing him just as
tightly.
“I'll tell you the truth.”
 
***** A Week Earlier *****
Chapter Summary
     Oh, did... did you want me to end that cliffhanger? Ha, oh wow, so
     embarrassing, oh jeez, well, uh, ha.... oops?
     EDIT 8/8: And oh, man, guys, the chapter after this one is a doozy.
     Seriously, I've been working on it for the past few weeks now (shut
     up I'm a slow writer) and I'm only halfway through typing it all
     down, but we're already at 12k.
     Prepare your bodies.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Jamie was more than relieved when North said he could return home. He was still
going to be watched by North's men, but as a witness, not a criminal. The
change from the holding cell to his bedroom was a blessing in and of itself.
Going to class the next day—a luxury.
Psychology taught by Professor Pitchiner had been canceled, for obvious
reasons. That didn't stop kids from Jamie's class to seek him out and ask him
what happened. They had heard about it on the news, it seemed, but Jamie could
tell them nothing more than what had been publicly announced, as per North's
conditions. His classmates were disheartened at this revelation, but as it
tends to do, gossip filled the college grounds. Jamie did his best to ignore
the brunt of it, but he still found himself hearing bits and pieces.
He escaped the lies and assumptions by running to his club—GSA. There, he had
always found solace. Even now, the club did not disappoint. The club leader
steered any and all conversations onto relevant topics, ones Jamie was actually
comfortable in participating in. News about Jack's kidnapping drained from his
mind as he lost himself in the hardships of trans individuals in day-to-day
society. He also lost himself in a pair of bright blue eyes belonging to a girl
who had tucked herself into the far corner of the room. Jamie couldn't remember
seeing her attend before, but it wasn't exactly strange to see a newcomer or a
curious mind every once-in-a-while. She smiled flirtatiously at him, and Jamie
felt a lump swell in his throat. When the club activity ended for the day,
Jamie had to fight himself back from shooting across the room and asking her
name.
He stiffly put his bag together, watching from the corner of his eye as she got
her things in order as well. As she stood, Jamie slung his bag over his
shoulder and casually checked his phone. He saw her walking up to him and he
pretended not to notice until the very last minute. Turning to look at her, he
smiled and tucked his phone away. She smiled back.
“Are you Jamie Bennett?” She asked, and already Jamie felt his hopes dwindle.
All day people have been coming up to him and asking that very question, only
to follow it up with more questions about Jack and the kidnapping and what he
had to do with all of it.
Hesitantly, Jamie nodded. He cringed when her eyes sparkled in interest and
began to prepare himself for a slew of questions, but the one that came instead
was a shy, “I was wondering... Are you free tonight?”
Jamie blinked at her, stunned. Was he being asked out? On a date? Was she
hitting on him?! Maybe he heard her wrong. He blinked dumbly and opened his
mouth, stuttering out a sloppy, “I'm sorry... what?”
She smiled patiently at him and pulled her bag tighter against herself,
repeating, “Are you free tonight? I was hoping you might want to... I don't
know, go get something to eat? You're really cute.”
She knew he was... didn't she? Jamie wasn't sure what to do. He had never been
asked out like this before. Well, he had never been asked out at all, really...
Suddenly, her smile fell and she asked nervously, “I mean... unless you have a
girlfriend already?”
Answer her already, you idiot! Jamie sucked in a breath, then quickly shook his
head and blathered out, “N-no, I, uh... don't get asked out a lot.” He laughed,
and her worry melted away. She smiled at him first, then giggled and ducked her
head, shy.
“I think I've noticed,” She said playfully, swaying from side to side, “So is
that a yes?”
“Yes,” Jamie replied easily, making her giggle again.
“There's a cafe across the street. It shouldn't be too busy right now. Want to
go?” She asked, placing a hand on Jamie's arm, not demanding or rough, just
tight enough to feel. Jamie felt his heart race when she gave a breathy sigh.
He was way out of his depth.
“Okay,” He said anyways, and he let her lead him out of the club meeting room
and off of the campus. As they walked, Jamie allowed himself a moment of
weakness and he ran his eyes over her.
She was taller than him by a few inches, which was only made more prominent by
the baby blue heels she wore. Snow white stockings adorned her sculpted legs,
stretching up past her knees and disappearing beneath a swishing baby blue
skirt that matched her shoes. Tucked into the skirt was a white cotton blouse
that flared at the neck. The sleeves ruffled where they stopped at her bicep,
and Jamie felt almost lecherous when he found himself more than admiring how
downright strong she was. She had to be in a sport. Maybe swimming, since she
was a little flat chested.
Her face turned towards Jamie and the brunet quickly looked away, his face
bright red at being caught. She giggled at him, squeezed his arm tighter, then
said, “It's okay. I like being looked at by cute boys.” She winked at him and
Jamie briefly wondered if she had some sort of ulterior motive. As she turned
to face forward, he examined her facial features next. She had a pixie-like
face, her nose thin, her eyes playful, her lips full and dabbed with a soft
pink stain. She looked familiar somehow, but Jamie didn't get long to wonder
why. They entered the cafe moments later.
They ordered themselves food, Jamie getting a sandwich and the girl a parfait.
They sat together at a table near the window and tucked into the corner as they
waited. She tossed her long black hair over her shoulder, smiling at him.
“I never asked your name.” He said suddenly, feeling even worse for leering at
a total stranger, even if she had waved it off with a feeble excuse.
She smiled wider at him, tilted her head, then said, “I go by Emma.”
'Go by' was what caught Jamie's attention. Maybe it was just because they came
from the club, but Jamie began to wonder about her. He knew better than to ask
outright, however.
“That's a cute name. It fits you.” He tried to flirt, though he felt awkward as
he said it.
Emma's eyes brightened at that and she gave him an honest smile. Jamie felt
more certain about his assumption. He himself had nearly exploded in delight
the first time a stranger said his name was 'strapping' like him.
“Thank you,” She said in a breath. Jamie smiled again.
“I don't think I've seen you at GSA before.” He ventured, and Emma grew more
comfortable and shrugged.
“I was worried that if I went it meant outing myself. But I'm glad I decided to
come today.” She winked at him. Jamie blushed. The server brought them their
food. Emma began eating her parfait while Jamie picked at his sandwich.
“So you go to Burgess Community College? What do you study?” Jamie asked next,
hoping that if he got to know her better, he wouldn't feel so awkward. She
tapped her spoon against the glass chute her parfait came in.
“I'm undecided. I've only just started classes this semester—A little late, I
know. I've only gone to those general ed classes. I think I want to do
something with police work, though. I love myself a good mystery.” She grinned,
then asked, “What about you?”
“Oh, I'm studying to be a Psychologist, actually. I almost have all the credits
I need in order to transfer to University, but--” He sighed, leaning his chin
against his fist, “I'm probably going to have to retake Psych next semester.
Our professor went nuts and is being hunted down by the cops.”
Emma grimaced, then asked, “That's... Kozmotis, right?” Jamie nodded quietly.
She chewed on her bottom lip, then looked down at her half-eaten parfait and
mumbled, “It's such an interesting case...”
“It's talked about too much.” Jamie frowned, hating himself for bringing it up.
She hadn't even shown an interest in it before. He was so stupid... but he
couldn't lie to himself and say he hadn't been kind of enjoying the attention
either.
He was so messed up.
Emma had hummed in response, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She ran her
finger along the rim of her glass, then looked out the window and mumbled, “Men
like him deserve to die.”
Jamie blinked and looked at her, startled. He opened his mouth to say
something, probably like how dramatic such a claim was. He wanted to ask her
why she thought that way, but all that came out was a dumb noise. She looked at
him from the corner of her eye and grew defensive. Her shoulders hunched and
her lips pursed, then she asked, “What? Don't you agree?”
Jamie shook his head before he could actually respond, and when she glared at
him, he finally mustered up, “It's just... a little much for a kidnapping,
don't you think?” After all, that was all the cops had divulged to the public.
But of all the things he could have said, it seemed that had been the wrong
choice. Emma all but bristled, her eyes widening and her posture growing rigid.
Her hands dropped to the tabletop, clenched in tight fists, and Jamie could
almost hear her grinding her teeth.
“Kozmotis is a sick man.” She began, her voice lowering dangerously. Jamie
leaned back in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable, “He is fucked in the head. He
doesn't deserve the privilege of sucking in another gasping breath, doesn't
deserve mercy for all he's done. I don't want him arrested and jailed for life,
I want Pitch to have his heart ripped out from his throat.”
Jamie was tumbling in his own head, unable to properly digest all she had said.
Sickening imagery flickered across his mind's eye, but he pushed it all aside
and instead focused on what she had called Kozmotis. There was only ever one
other person who regarded him with that same nickname, the very man Jamie had
royally fucked over. He looked up at Emma, his own eyes wide, and he mumbled,
“Pitchiner”
“What?” She spat out, grimacing.
“His name is Kozmotis Pitchiner. Not Pitch.” Jamie clarified, and her anger
melted out of her eyes in moments. They stared at each other, Jamie silent and
Emma calculating.
Suddenly, she was smiling again, as if this chaotic conversation had never
happened. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, and she said in a
seductive voice that Jamie was ashamed to find himself leaning towards, “I want
to show you something. Come home with me?”
Dumbfounded, Jamie stammered out a half-excuse. She didn't hear it and stood,
grabbing his arm once more and pulling him from his seat, “I live real nearby.
Come on,” She leaned into him, whispering right into his ear, “I just really
want to be alone with you right now.”
Red flags were popping up everywhere in Jamie's mind. He thought about
struggling in her grip, but at the first tug, her nails dug right into his arm
and she hissed through her teeth, “Don't fight me, Jamie Bennett. Don't you
want to know more about me? About Pitch?”
Jamie stilled in her grip, and against his better judgment, he let her pull him
along. They exited the cafe quickly, Emma leaning heavily against him and
clinging to his arm like a vice. They walked down the street, further away from
the college campus, and soon they stepped onto a parking lot for a motel. Jamie
began to hesitate again, but Emma continued to drag him along.
She yanked Jamie into a room, threw him onto the bed, and slammed the door shut
behind her, casting the entire room in darkness. The curtains over the window
were drawn closed, but a long sliver of light still peeked through it, casting
over the bed and right across Jamie's face. Emma stepped in front of the light,
her silhouette ringed by a golden glow. All Jamie could see of her features
were her bright blue eyes.
“Where is he, Jamie?” She asked, though it sounded more like a demand than
anything. Jamie spluttered out a half answer, confused, and Emma sighed, “Where
is Pitch?”
“I don't know,” Jamie answered honestly. He could see her eyes narrow in doubt,
so he repeated, “I don't know! I seriously don't, okay? I've been trying to
help the cops as much as I can, but I-I don't—”
“Let's try this again,” Emma muttered, turning away from him and tossing her
bag on the nearby nightstand so she could dig through it. When she found what
she needed, she hummed and turned on the lamp, filling the room with a dim
yellow light. The lamplight glittered along the blade of the knife she wielded.
Jamie felt his entire body grow cold.
“What the fuck?!” He squeaked, scrambling further back on the bed, but Emma
followed after him, climbing over him and pinning him down in one swift motion.
Her knees dug into the arms she trapped on the bed, and she settled the rest of
her weight on his stomach where she sat. The knife was pressed right to his
neck, threatening.
“Where the fuck is he?” She shouted, her pretty face twisting in rage, but
Jamie's answer didn't, couldn't change.
“I don't know! I don't know! I c-can't—I--I--” He was hyperventilating now,
letting out a shrill squeak when she dug the tip of the knife into the soft
spot underneath his chin. “Why do you even care?! The cops are looking for him
right now! He's going to get put away once they find him!”
“That's not enough.” She spat.
“Then what?! Do you want him sentenced to death? The only reason why they'd do
that is if Jack is--” He screamed, actually screamed, when she slashed the
knife against his cheek.
“Don't you dare say it! Don't even think that! Jack isn't dead. He can't be
dead! And I need to make sure that asshole Pitch doesn't kill him!” She yelled,
moving the knife sporadically in his face, making Jamie cringe and flinch away.
“Look, I-I'll tell you everything I know, okay? Just—Just put the knife away!
Please!” He begged, fearing for his life the more she swung the blade around.
Emma glared at him harshly, her teeth grinding once more, and she growled out a
bitter 'fine' before she tossed the knife onto the pillows. She stayed sitting
on Jamie still, but at least this was a little less dangerous. Jamie sucked in
a breath, trying to calm his racing heart enough to get his thoughts together.
“I-I... The cops don't want me spreading info, but...” He took in another
gasping breath, glancing up at her twisted scowl, and he shook his head, “They
didn't tell me something like this would happen... I thought they were just
being cautious with the whole 'protection' thing...”
“Stop stalling and spit it out,” Emma demanded angrily, putting her hands on
either side of Jamie's head, hunched over him. Jamie sighed and nodded,
struggling to decide where he should begin.
“Are you familiar with the Overland murders? Happened maybe... a decade ago?”
Jamie asked first, and Emma's eyes narrowed, almost looking offended. When she
didn't answer, Jamie pressed, “It's important. I promise.”
Emma sighed, ducking her head for a moment as she thought about it. Her eyes
darted this way and that, unfocused, and Jamie had to wonder if she was
searching her memory or trying to decide whether or not to admit it. Finally,
she mumbled, “I recall them, yes.”
“Okay, good. Then I don't have to start there. Kozmotis kidnapped Jack
Overland, the only survivor of those murders. He had been assigned to Jack as
his psychologist back then.” Emma's eyes darted up to Jamie's face, wide. She
sat up straight, putting her hands on Jamie's chest instead. Jamie continued,
“I guess things were going well for a time, but then Jack confessed to Kozmotis
that he had been the one to murder his parents.”
“He confessed?” Emma whispered, her face growing oddly pale. Jamie licked his
lips and nodded.
“Kozmotis became obsessed, I guess. Wanted Jack to confess on tape, but he
messed up and forced the truth out using some drug...” Jamie sighed, turning
his head away as the guilt ate away at him once more, “He told me all about it,
but I was way too trusting. He's really charismatic. So I... helped him kidnap
Jack, I guess.”
“You... what?” Emma snarled, her nails turning to claws as they dug into his
chest, “Why--?!”
“I didn't know he was planning to run! I thought he was going to bring Jack to
the cops so they could arrest him! But when I found out he skipped town...”
Jamie huffed and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the tears that
threatened to surge forward down. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with
emotion, “The cops promised to keep any sentences merciful if I helped.”
Emma stared down at Jamie, her brows furrowed and her lips pinched in disgust.
She was considering something, Jamie realized upon peeking at her. He wasn't
sure if it would be good, considering her chaotic mood. Emma let out a resigned
breath and looked back down at Jamie.
“You want to make things right.” She said, and Jamie nodded immediately. Emma
looked into his eyes for a moment longer, searching, then she said, “Help me
get Jack back.”
Jamie blinked, his brows dipping low, and he asked without thinking, “What, are
you stupid? What makes you think we'd make any more progress than the police
already have? Look, I don't like it either, but the best thing we can do is
wait for the cops to find him.”
Emma scoffed and got off the bed, and subsequently Jamie, though the brunet
didn't move further than to sit up. She grabbed the knife from the pillows and
stuck it back into her purse, turning to face Jamie afterward, “They'll take
way too long. By the time they find Kozmotis, Jack will either be dead or on
death row. I can't have that.” Her hands went to her hips, and Jamie squinted.
“So he... did kill his parents?” He asked nervously, but Emma squinted at him.
Alright, she wasn't going to answer. That was fine, Jamie had more questions
anyways, “Why does this even matter to you so much? Who are you, even?” He
questioned next, and this time, Emma's brows rose in surprise.
“You mean you...” She blushed and looked away, a small smile on her lips. She
touched her cheek tenderly, her eyes casting around, perhaps for a mirror,
perhaps for a different topic. Jamie didn't expect her to turn a shy gaze on
him and say genuinely, “Thank you. You're... You really are sweet.”
Jamie made a face and was about to tell her that it hadn't been a compliment,
but then Emma was running her hand over her hair—no, under her hair. She
removed the long black wig she had been wearing, then the hair cap beneath it,
revealing a mess of short, sweaty brown hair. She tugged what looked like a
makeup wipe from her purse and wiped her face clean, slowly turning away from
Jamie. With her back to him, she undid her skirt and replaced it with a pair of
tight low-rider shorts. Jamie had to pry his eyes away from her backside
multiple times through the change, clearing his throat awkwardly. She shrugged
off the blouse as well, revealing a small, white, lacy bra which she covered
with a black tank-top.
When she turned back around, Jamie reeled back in utter shock. The makeup and
wig had gone a long way, but without it all on, she looked exactly like—
“Jack?!” Jamie squeaked, and Emma shot him a dirty look, putting her hand on
her hip daintily.
“Emma.” She corrected coldly, and Jamie felt his face burn in shame.
“I-I... Sorry, but...” Jamie cleared his throat again, clamming up before he
could say something even more offensive. Emma rolled her eyes and grabbed her
purse, tossing her worn clothes into it before she hung it over her shoulder
with grace.
“Come on, we have work to do.” She said, grabbing Jamie's wrist and wrenching
him off the bed. Jamie yelped, stumbling for a few strides before he caught his
balance and followed after her.
“I told you, this is stupid!” He said even as he walked after her, stuffing his
hands into his pockets, “What do you even expect us to do? Drive around
Burgess, calling out Jack's name like some stray dog? We're not going to find
him, Emma!”
Emma stopped in the middle of the parking lot, turning to look at Jamie with an
unimpressed scowl. She crossed her arms, cocking a hip out, and asked, “Well,
do you have a phone?”
“I—What? Of course, I do,” Jamie grumbled.
“And do you have Pitch's number?” She asked next, making Jamie scoff.
“We tried that already. He won't answer! He's too smart to answer!”
“Have you left him a voicemail?” She sighed, checking her nails boredly. Jamie
opened his mouth to reply sarcastically, but Emma's brow quirked and he
hesitated, caught.
“Uh... No...” He grunted out, and Emma smirked, victorious. She pulled a set of
keys from her purse, unlocked a nearby car, and she nodded towards it. Jamie
sighed and trudged towards the vehicle, ignoring its rusted paint and
discolored door. He and Emma slid inside in tandem, their doors shutting, and
Emma turned the key in the ignition, bringing the engine to life, its loyal
purr steady despite the crappy car. They pulled out of the parking lot and
headed down the street, the two of them quiet.
As Emma drove, Jamie looked her way and studied her features once again. They
were headed somewhere Jamie wasn't familiar with, and he knew he really should
be paying attention, but her exact likeness to Jack was daunting. The more he
stared, the more uncomfortable Emma became, until she finally snapped and spat
out, “Get your eyes off me! Fuck, I like being looked at, but not when I'm
ugly!”
“You're not ugly,” Jamie said immediately, either out of habit or because he
seriously believed it. Emma was unconvinced.
“Yeah, well I'm not pretty right now, either, so stop!” She blindly reached
out, shoving Jamie's head away until he gave in and looked out the window
instead.
“I'm still really confused,” Jamie admitted, ignoring the annoyed sigh Emma let
out, “Who are you? Why do you look like... like...”
“Jack?” Emma finished with a scowl, “Ugh, you're cute, Jamie, but you're kind
of slow, aren't you?” Jamie blushed in embarrassment and looked down at his
lap. Emma pursed her lips at his reaction. Apologetically, she answered, “We're
brothers. Twins. Identical twins.”
“But you're a girl,” Jamie said a little pointedly, and Emma made another
annoyed noise, squeezing the steering wheel tightly.
“I mean, I'm a boy! I have a dick and an Adam's apple and--”
“You're still a girl,” Jamie said slower. Sterner. Emma glanced his way, her
eyes wide and vulnerable. “That's what you are, isn't it? Emma?” Jamie
clarified, a little worried that it had all been a ruse just to get to Jamie.
To identify with him. Emma looked back to the road, her eyes hardening, growing
impassive. Her hands relaxed on the wheel. Jamie smiled when the rest of her
relaxed as well. He turned to look back out the window.
“But I'm still really confused.” Jamie announced, and Emma groaned loudly,
slumping forward with a scowl, “The police never mentioned you. North never
even hinted at there being another Overland kid in the house at the time. And
even if they were just that bad at their job, why didn't they find records of
you later? You know, a birth certificate, a social security number? Hell, an
immunization record, maybe? How did you just... vanish?”
Emma sighed and said slowly, "Well, my mom was a giant fucking idiot. Jack
knows more about this stuff, but I guess twins are, like, super rare and useful
test subjects for certain psychological or social experiments? The more alike
you are, the more accurate the results of the test will be or something.
Anyways, mom decided Jack and I had to be the perfect mirror to one another,
so, woman of great choices, named both of her...” she glanced at Jamie, shy,
“...children... Jackson.”
Jamie stared back at Emma, waiting for the inevitable, 'just kidding!' followed
by laughter and jokes, but no such exclamation came. Emma glanced his way twice
and Jamie realized she was probably waiting for him to say something.
“That's...” Jamie started, but words failed him. Fucking stupid? Yes.
Absolutely ridiculous? Of course. Completely unheard of? All good things to
say. “...got to be confusing. How did you know who she was talking to?”
Emma snickered and shrugged, saying, “There never really was a question when it
came to it. Jack and I were so in sync, so parallel in personality and intent
that if she talked to one of us, she talked to both of us. We were one in the
same, Jamie. The very same child in two different bodies.”
“And then Jack when crazy and killed your parents,” Jamie muttered, his brow
dipping as he looked away. He barely let out another breath before Emma slammed
her foot on the breaks, jerking the car off the road and into the dirt beside
the highway. Jamie scrambled to cling to his seat belt, thinking for a second
that they had almost crashed, but then Emma was grabbing him by the jaw and
forcing him to look at her.
“My brother did not go crazy! My parents went fucking crazy! My brother
protected us from their bullshit! He killed them when they almost killed me--
when Pitch almost drove me to suicide! He bit the bullet so I could be me!”
Emma shouted, her eyes wet and full of angry emotion, “And how do I repay him?
I promised him I would kill Pitch, but now he's...” She sobbed once, a pitiful,
choking wail, but she swallowed back any more noise that threatened to follow
and forced herself back together. She let go of Jamie's jaw with a shove,
turning her head away to dab away the tears that almost fell, mindful of the
makeup she no longer wore. In a shaking voice, she said again, “Jack did not go
crazy.”
Jamie stayed quiet, worried that if he said anything, Emma would snap and hurt
him.. or just break down crying. Both extremes were things he wasn't sure he
could handle. Emma didn't attempt to end the silence on her end, either. She
just sat there, facing forward and letting the engine run. Cars passed them on
their left in quick succession, but Emma was gone in her own mind, her eyes
distant and wet still. Jamie had the sudden urge to hold her hand. He might
have tried if he didn't think she'd punch him in the throat for it.
So instead, Jamie swallowed down his fear and asked in a whisper, “So you.. you
two knew Kozmotis before?”
Emma blinked, coming out of whatever dark corner in her mind she had fallen
into at the question. Slowly, she began to nod. Jamie tilted his head, keeping
his focus on her face, her expressions, and he asked, “How?”
Emma let out a slow breath, her brows curling down. Her eyes flickered from
left to right as she thought about it, then she looked at Jamie and said, “You
think it's impressive I managed to vanish in the midst of chaos, confusion, and
poor police work? You're seriously going to go nuts with the shit Pitch did to
hide his identity.”
When Jamie frowned and shook his head in confusion, Emma shot him a wide, shit-
eating grin, then said, “Doctor Kozmotis Pitchiner is our grandfather.”
Jamie's mouth fell open in silent shock, his eyes wide and his mind struggling
to process what that meant. Jack and Kozmotis were related. They were of the
same flesh and blood. They were family, and...
And...
The CD jumped to the forefront of Jamie's mind. He could almost hear the
recorded crackle of Jack's voice as he moaned and begged and laughed and—
'All you have to do is undo your belt and you can be right where you love it'
Jamie was scrambling for the car door before he even realized he was gagging.
He dropped out of the car and doubled over as he dry-heaved, lucky that nothing
came up. Behind him, Emma began to laugh at him.
“Of all the reactions I've seen, I've never had someone almost blow chunks!”
She cackled, throwing her head back and covering her eyes with her hand. Jamie
shuddered at the sick churning in his stomach, but nothing else was going to
come up. Regretfully, Jamie pulled himself back into the car, tense and
uncomfortable. Emma waited for him to shut the door and pull on his seat belt
before she reached over and patted his shoulder.
“Feeling alright?” She asked him. Jamie shook his head no. Emma laughed again,
then said, “Well don't throw up in my car alright? It's already gross in here.”
She turned on her blinker and carefully pulled back onto the highway. The
shudder and shake of her car didn't help Jamie's queasy stomach, but he didn't
feel the need to gag again either. Slowly, he relaxed once more in the car. He
reigned in his scattered thoughts and pulled together another topic of
discussion.
“Where are you even taking me? And why?” Jamie complained, uncomfortable with
being driven someplace strange, even if it was with a cute girl. He didn't
really have anyone to blame but himself, though. He was the one who got into
her car. Emma glanced Jamie's way with an incredulous look on her face as if
she was shocked he hadn't figured it out yet.
“We're going to see my friends. They'll help us find Pitch.” She explained
slowly, her brows furrowed. She frowned further when Jamie scoffed at her.
“Your friends? What, you think they can find Kozmotis faster than the cops
can?” Jamie huffed, crossing his arms. Emma rose a brow at his tone.
“Yes, actually, because my friends don't have to worry about rules and
procedures. Plus, they're usually smarter than your typical cop.” She replied
curtly, keeping her eyes on the road, “Besides, they have a lot more
connections. With you on board, we'll have Pitch in our grasp in no time.”
Jamie frowned and straightened up, crying out, “Wait, what? No, no, no, I'm in
enough trouble as it is! If I do this, the cops can get me for 'obstructing
justice'! They might even say I'm still consorting with Kozmotis! I already
fucked up, Emma, I can't make it worse!”
“You don't get a say in it, actually.” Emma said with a one-shouldered shrug,
“But how about this: You do this for me, and I'll do anything you want.” She
glanced at him from the corner of her eye, a sly smirk on her lips, “I mean,
you look like the kind of guy who'd be into a girl with a dick.” She turned
back to the road, “Of course, if you don't do your part... well, you better
hope I have pity sex with you anyways, cause you won't be alive the day after
next.” She winked Jamie's way, flashing him a wide, toothy grin. Jamie,
dumbfounded, had no intelligent retort, so he slumped back in his seat and
stared down at his lap.
“I'll take your silence as agreement,” Emma said with a victorious little
smirk. They soon exited the highway and entered a different part of the city,
getting close to where Emma intended to take him. The city they pulled into was
old. Abandoned-looking. The houses were run down with the paint peeling off,
and the corner stores and mall were no better. Jamie could see a lake in the
distance, warehouses dotting its edge. Worried, Jamie shifted in his seat and
glanced out the window. He could see young kids playing in the streets without
a care in the world. Standing at the corners and lounging on the porch steps of
some houses were teenagers and young men, leering at the car as it passed by.
They looked less than happy, and Jamie began to worry about the fact that they
all seemed to have a preference in clothing color.
“Don't worry about these thugs. They won't touch me.” Emma said casually,
driving through the neighborhood with ease.
“What about me?” Jamie asked, getting a side-glance from Emma. She hummed, then
gestured to the glove compartment of her car.
“There should be a scarf or a beanie in there that you can borrow.” She
mentioned. Jamie frowned and pulled open the compartment. The first thing that
fell out was a silver .45, right onto Jamie's lap. The boy nearly let out a
shriek had Emma not slapped a hand over his mouth in keen foresight.
“Calm down! It's a gun, not a fucking snake!” She hissed out, snatching it off
his lap and tossing it back into the glove compartment.
“You have a freaking gun?!” Jamie shouted, gesturing at the still open
compartment and the still visible gun. Emma made a face and ignored him.
“There, that blue scarf, wear that.” She said, pointing at the balled up baby-
blue scarf that matched Emma's shoes and skirt from earlier.
“Why do you have a gun?!” Jamie questioned, still not following her
instructions or grabbing the scarf.
“Why the fuck do you think? To shove up my asshole? I'm in a gang, you fucking
idiot, now grab the scarf and wear the damn thing!” Emma shouted back,
exasperated. Finally, Jamie grabbed the scarf and yanked it out of the glove
compartment, snapping it shut moments later as if the gun was going to chase
after him. Still, he was far from done.
“You're in a gang?” He gasped, and Emma groaned and had to force herself from
slamming her head against the steering wheel.
“Oh my God, put on the scarf!” She yelled, gesturing violently with her hand.
Jamie flinched, but he finally followed through and tugged the scarf around his
neck, though his movements were jerky and a little uncoordinated. They fell
quiet after that, Jamie practically curled in on himself to make himself as
small as possible and Emma clutching the wheel as if she were wringing the neck
of her passenger.
The further they drove, the more they relaxed. Just as Jamie felt he could
breathe normally again, Emma was pulling over in front of a warehouse. Running
inside of it looked to be a typical auto shop. Standing near the front looked
to be the man running the whole operation, and he looked out at Emma and Jamie
as they stepped out of the car. He was tall, buff, with muscles bulging from
the button-up flannel he wore. Jamie recognized him immediately, not by his
face or the detailed tattoos running up and down his arms, but by the giant,
bushy mustache and beard he sported. Jamie had spent many hours recounting his
knowledge to many different men in the force, but this man, in particular, was
easily memorable.
“Isn't that Phil?” Jamie asked in surprise, pushing the car door shut. Emma
glanced his way as she did the same, giving him a weird look. Jamie shut his
mouth, unsure if she knew at all that Phil, who had to be in the same gang as
Emma was in by the color of his tank top, was a cop. Maybe he was undercover.
Shit. That meant he was fucked if Phil tells North he was here. Jamie wasn't
supposed to go driving all over Burgess...
Emma grabbed Jamie's arm and pulled him forward, heading straight for the auto
shop and, consequently, Phil. As she passed by him, she nodded at him, and Phil
nodded right back. A silent greeting between close acquaintances. Phil's eyes
didn't leave Jamie's back as Emma lead him towards the back corner, skirting
around curious auto mechanics and workers, who all paused for at least a few
seconds to watch them.
As they reached the spiral staircase in the corner, Emma pulled Jamie closer
and whispered, “Don't stare back at them. Keep your head down.” Jamie followed
without complaint. They climbed the stairs with no issues, reaching the top in
seconds. There, they paused, and Emma pulled away enough to look Jamie in the
eyes.
Speaking quickly and quietly, Emma said, “Alright, I'm bringing you to see the
big boss, the guy who brought us all together. Two things: don't say a word to
him and don't lay a hand on me. He's super possessive of his things—and yes,
Jamie, I am his 'thing.' Don't look at me like that.” Jamie blinked his look of
disgust away, though he still didn't like the idea of Emma belonging to someone
at all. Emma sighed, ran a hand through her short messy hair to try and make
herself a little more presentable, then she cleared her throat and turned to
face the hall they stood in. At the very end was a door, one which Emma headed
towards immediately, though her gait was slow and nervous. Jamie trailed after
her without another word.
The doors they passed were all shut, save for the very last one closest to the
door at the end of the hall. Jamie peered inside without really meaning to, and
found a skinny brunet teen laying on the mattress, his body type similar to
Jack's and Emma's. Jamie suddenly got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach,
especially when the brunet sat up, exposing his chest dotted with scratch marks
and bruises. Was Emma something like a call girl for this gang boss? Without a
place to go or anyone to shield her from trouble, Jamie wouldn't be surprised
if she had gone to this guy and offered herself for his protection. Pity and
rage towards her situation made Jamie grit his teeth.
“Emma--” He began to say, but Emma shushed him almost violently. Without giving
him another second to try and say anything, Emma shoved open the door. Jamie
shut his mouth with a click and followed Emma inside.
The chair at the desk was turned away, its extravagantly large back blocking
its occupant from view. A light blue glow came from behind it as well,
something from a small screen, Jamie guessed, a phone if the rhythmic beeping
coming from it was anything to go by.
“I'm busy,” A soft voice all but mumbled out, much too light and kind-sounding
for Jamie to think it belonged to any sort of boss.
“You'll be even busier in a minute,” Emma said, putting her hands on her hips.
The boss let out a long-suffering sigh, the chair creaking as it tilted back.
“Emma...” The boss scolded in that quiet voice, but he still didn't turn
around, “I told you, I'm not helping with this personal vendetta you have
against Doctor Pitchiner. He is much too well known for us to deal with.”
“He has Jack.” Emma said sternly, taking a step forward, “He could be hurting
him for all I know! Please, Manny, I—I need to save him!”
The chair creaked again, and then it was turning. Jamie's brows rose as he took
in this man's appearance. He was young-looking, though his eyes were wise and
heavy with purple bags beneath them. His skin was almost golden, glowing
brightly even in the dull light of his... DS screen. A tune played, indicating
he had died in the game. He wore a slightly too-big purple pinstripe suit with
a dark pine green button up underneath. He looked serious and intelligent, but
there wasn't even a touch of anger in his features. He set his DS on his desk,
closing it with a clack. He didn't even give Jamie a second glance.
“How do you know?” He asked, looking Emma in the eyes. She looked nervous, but
she didn't waver.
“News.” She said first, only to glance away and add, “And Yeti.”
Manny frowned and clasped his hands on top of the desk, his brows furrowing in
almost parental disapproval, “Emma, for the last time, Phil is not your
personal radio scanner. He is a cop for our protection, not for your intel. And
don't think I haven't heard from the others what you've been asking him to do.”
Emma ducked her head and crossed her arms, her cheek flushing while she pouted
like a child. Manny rose a brow, waiting, and he tilted his head towards her
just as she muttered out, “Fucking snitch.” Manny made a face at Jamie as if
silently saying, 'do you see what I have to deal with?' Jamie might have
chuckled if he wasn't still so unsure what kind of guy Manny was.
“That shouldn't change a thing, though! He has my brother!” Emma shouted next,
her eyes flaring with rage, “Youhave to help me!”
“You have him.” Manny said, gesturing to Jamie, “He knows plenty.” Jamie
blinked in surprise, his mouth falling open to retort, but Emma, thankfully,
cut in first.
“He doesn't know enough. Besides, what do you think I'd do with this kid? The
best plan I could even hope to pull off is using him as bait to lure the
bastard out!”
Manny gave Emma a look, and Emma's face fell in realization, “Oh, you're
kidding me!” She breathed, distressed and turning away, beginning to pace, “I'd
have to rely on Jamie to... and then hope that Pitch will... And even then,
Jack might already be.... Manny, you can't be serious!” She begged, spinning
around to look at the man once more.
“I am, but I will admit that you're right. You won't be able to accomplish such
a feat alone. I will not allow my people to be sucked into this, but I will
allow you a small entourage. Three others, and that's all.”
Emma's eyes widened, a sparkle of hope in her eyes, and she asked tentatively,
“Does that mean I can take--”
“Yes, yes, but only if he wants to go.” Manny sighed, waving a hand as he cut
into her question. He paused as Emma quietly celebrated, then said, “It also
looks like you'll be taking the Mouse.”
“What?” Emma blurted, her excitement dying out in a second. Manny gestured to
the door, making Emma's eyes widen. She spun around, skirting around Jamie, and
she quickly yanked the door open, admitting the skinny brunet teen Jamie had
seen laying down in the room just next door. The brunet yelped as he stumbled
into the room, colliding right into Emma, who shoved him away moments later.
His brown eyes were wide and his chest fluttered with a rapid breath.
“Rat!” Emma spat out and the boy yelped and, befitting his namesake, scurried
around Emma and Jamie to hide behind Manny's chair. Emma huffed and yelled at
him, “You sold me out to Manny! I told you not to tell!”
“You were breaking the rules! Manny said Phil was here to keep the other cops
off our butts! He can't do that if he's running all over Burgess chasing your
slutty brother!” Mouse shouted, voice squeaking and breaking every few words.
He clutched at Manny's chair tighter, using it as a shield against Emma, who
had her hands clenched into fists and began to stomp forward.
“You little shit! Take that back! My brother is not a slut!” She yelled,
reaching across the desk to try and grab Mouse. Manny grunted as his chair was
tugged this way and that, looking more and more irritated with each jerk.
“He's a huge slut! The biggest, sluttiest slut there is! Yeti probably banged
him twice!” Mouse continued to shout childishly, only to squeak and duck behind
Manny's chair when Emma threw the pencil cup from Manny's desk at him.
Manny, completely fed up, slammed his hands on the desk before him and shouted,
“Enough!” Emma and Mouse leapt away from his desk, standing side by side in a
tense posture, “Both of you! You are not children here! I gave you a task,
Emma. I'm allowing you to go save your brother, not to murder the Doctor. Mouse
is the perfect man for getting you in and out. He goes with you or you won't go
at all. Understood?”
Emma made a face, her nose crinkling as she glared towards the ground, but she
ultimately grumbled out a reluctant, “Fine.”
“And Mouse,” Manny addressed the smaller, bruised up teen, “You may be new to
the family, but you won't get any respect if you keep acting like this. If you
want respect, you better start giving it. You know I take your protection
seriously.”
Mouse made a noise and he crossed his arms, but he nodded stiffly, anyways.
Manny let out a short sigh, then said, “Work together on this. Mouse, show me
you're suited for our family. Emma, show me you can work well with others. If
this job fails, you'll both be out.” Emma and Mouse looked up at Manny in
shock, twin looks of utter terror on their faces. Before they could try and
argue their points, though, Manny sat back down and said, “Go on. Take Yeti and
Nightlight with you. Bring Jack here. If I expend my resources on this, I
expect recompense.”
Emma turned her head away, her shoulders squared. Manny sent them out with a
wave of his hand. Mouse hesitated for a moment, but Emma turned on her heel,
grabbed Jamie's arm, and dragged him out of the room. Mouse followed moments
later, a deep frown set on his face.
“I'm not going to pretend to like you,” Emma said to Mouse without looking back
at him. She brought Jamie to the second to closest door to the stairs and
proceeded to knock. Mouse continued to pout quietly, even as the door swung
open and another tall, thin looking man stepped into the doorway.
“Okay, seriously? Does Manny have a type?” Jamie blurted out, gesturing to the
tall, ethereal looking man with ghostly white hair and almost neon-green eyes.
He was thinner than Mouse and Emma, taller than them, too, but he held himself
in a casual stance, graceful in his confidence. He looked like he could be
blown away by a particularly strong wing, but at the same time, it looked like
he may be able to withstand being tackled by a football player.
“If he did, it definitely wouldn't be you.” Mouse muttered, and Emma shot him a
glare. The tallest man rolled his eyes.
“Manny takes the weak and defenseless off of the streets. He has a particular
fondness for teenagers, boy or girl, since he believes them to be the most
innocent. He gives us a place to stay and we repay him by working for him.”
Emma explained gently, looking Jamie's way with a small smile, “Mouse and I
were both found on the streets—not at the same time or anything. He took us in,
no questions asked.”
Jamie flushed in embarrassment, ducking his head and stuttering out, “O-oh... I
thought... I mean... You said you were his property before.”
“We are.” The tallest said, his brows raising, “Once we hit eighteen, Tsar lets
us choose to leave or stay. Those who stay become his. Pardon me, call me
Nightlight.” The man stuck out his hand towards Jamie, who cleared his throat
and shook it.
“Jamie.” He replied, and Nightlight's grip on his hand tightened almost
painfully.
“Jamie.” Nightlight repeated, his brows raising high on his forehead, “Don't
tell me you're Jamie Bennett...?”
“Uh...” Jamie glanced over at Emma, a quiet plea for help, and he mumbled, “The
one and only.”
Nightlight's eyes narrowed and he rose his other hand, but Emma stepped between
them before he could do anything else, putting her hand on Nightlight's chest
and gently pushing him back.
“It's okay, Nighty-Night. Jamie's going to help us get Jack back.” Emma said
with a smile. Nightlight's glare deepened and he gave a thoughtful hum,
obviously unimpressed.
“For his sake, your brother better be untouched.” Nightlight said casually,
smiling once again down at Emma, “Which is what you came to see me for, I
presume?”
Emma sighed and nodded, “Yes. Manny finally gave me permission, but I have to
take Mouse and Yeti with me. I mean, Yeti's a good guy, but I hate Mouse.”
“I'm right here, you trann--” Mouse began, but both Jamie and Emma rounded on
him, shouting out equally angry, 'don't you dare's. Mouse shrunk back in
moments and sputtered out a meek, “T-t-terrible... person.”
Jamie rolled his eyes and Emma kept glaring, not even letting up when
Nightlight put a hand on her shoulder.
“Ratoncito, why don't you go fetch Yeti so we can discuss this job in the
privacy of my room?” Nightlight suggested with a smile. Mouse pouted a little,
but ultimately nodded and scurried down the stairs, making the barest of noises
as he went. Nightlight hummed and pulled Emma inside. Jamie followed, closing
the door behind him.
“Ugh, I can't believe we have to work with that guy! He's such a little prick!”
Emma fumed right off the bat, and Jamie couldn't help but agree.
“He doesn't seem to be very open-minded,” Jamie added, standing beside the door
while Nightlight headed towards his closet tucked into one corner of the room
and Emma collapsed into the bed in the opposite corner.
“Ratoncito will be good for a job like this. A quick in and out is what he does
best.” Nightlight said, essentially repeating what Manny had said earlier. Emma
huffed at being told the same thing twice and rolled onto her stomach, pulling
one of the pillows close so she could rest her head on it.
“I thought his name was Mouse,” Jamie mentioned.
Nightlight chuckled and started pulling off his relaxation clothes, tugging on
his work clothes instead, which were grease-stained jeans and a white wife-
beater. “He has a real name, but he calls himself Ratoncito Perez. I guess it's
a Spanish version of the tooth fairy?”
“Why would he call himself the mousy tooth fairy?” Jamie snorted, getting a
lazy giggle from Emma. The door opened a second later, Mouse stepping in first.
“Because I'm so good at what I do that I could creep into a house and steal a
kid's teeth right out of their sleeping mouth.” Mouse claimed with a cocky
grin. Phil grumbled as he stepped in after him, closing the door with the
utmost care. He stood before it and crossed his meaty arms. Suddenly, the room
felt much too small.
Nightlight turned to greet the others with a patient smile, “Alright, first
thing's first--”
“He shouldn't be here.” Phil grunted, nodding towards Jamie, “The cops will
think he skipped town if he isn't home before nightfall.”
“Then we better start working fast.” Emma said, sitting up on Nightlight's bed,
“Manny had the idea that we should use Jamie to lure Pitch out.”
Jamie huffed and crossed his arms, grumbling out, “I already told you, I tried
that already with the cops!”
“You mustn't have tried it our way, then,” Nightlight smirked, tilting his
head, “Get your phone out. Let's do this now.”
“W-what? But what do I say?” Jamie blathered out, tugging his phone from his
pants pocket and flipping it over in his hands.
“Don't worry about it. We'll walk you through it. Call him and put him on
speaker.” Nightlight reassured him, stepping closer to Jamie and pointedly
staring at his phone. Jamie grimaced, but he gave in with a sigh. Turning the
phone on, he searched through his contacts until he pulled up Kozmotis' number
and he began to dial. As it rang, Emma pushed herself further back on
Nightlight's bed, her entire body tense and her expression dripping with
anxiety. Mouse flitted closer to Jamie, peering over his shoulder with wide,
curious eyes.
“When he answers, act scared and confused, but eager to hear from him,”
Nightlight directed. Jamie swallowed back as much fear as he could, but he
could feel it bubbling back to the surface. He looked back down at the ringing
phone in his hand, then sucked in a sharp gasp when it clicked.
“Hello,” Kozmotis' voice purred out. Emma whimpered and curled up tighter in
the corner of the bed, covering her ears with her hands. Jamie couldn't seem to
get his words out fast enough.
“P-Professor, this is Jamie, I--”
“You have reached Doctor Kozmotis Pitchiner. I am away from my phone at the
moment, but if you leave your name, number, and a short message, I'll call you
back as soon as I am able. Have a nice day.” Kozmotis' voicemail message ended
and Jamie felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He cleared his throat as
the second automated message instructed him to leave a message after the beep.
“Keep it short.” Nightlight said quietly, “Tell him you need to see him. Sound
desperate.”
Jamie licked his lips nervously, then all but jumped out of his skin when the
beep sounded. All in one breath, Jamie stammered out, “Professor Pitchiner,
it's Jamie, I-I'm at home now, but I'm s-so...” He made a noise in the back of
his throat, looking up at Nightlight with a lost expression. Was this good
enough? Was he convincing? He couldn't tell. Nightlight's brow furrowed and he
nodded, urging Jamie to continue. Jamie took in a shaking breath, then closed
his eyes, “Look, I... I need to see you. Please call me back. Please...”
He hesitated for a moment longer, unsure if he should add anything else, then
sighed and hung up. He kept his eyes downcast, staring at the phone, and he
muttered, “There. I told you he wouldn't answer.”
“That's alright. We've done enough for today.” Nightlight reassured him,
putting a cold hand on Jamie's shoulder, “For now, one of us will have to stay
with you until he calls back.”
“And what if he doesn't?” Jamie asked bitterly, “Why would he trust me,
anyways? For all he knows, the cops milked me for all the info they need. I'm
useless to him.”
“No, you're vulnerable. Impressionable. And he may think you're still on his
side. He'll want to keep you under his thumb, and he can't do that from a
distance.” Nightlight explained carefully. Jamie sighed again and kept his gaze
down, troubled. With a squeeze to his shoulder, Nightlight urged him, “Go home,
Jamie. Take someone with you. Get some rest. We'll be there when its time.”
“Why can't we just let the cops do their job?” Jamie complained a bit
childishly, and at that, Phil chuckled. His large hand met Jamie's back in a
reassuring pat, his laughter unbidden.
“They like their desk work. Any intel they gather will go through me, but we
have to pick up their slack.” Phil grumbled good-humorously.
“Besides, don't you want to right your wrongs?” Nightlight added, perhaps a bit
cruelly. Jamie glanced up at him, his eyes wide and heavy with guilt.
“I just wish I hadn't been so stupid...” Jamie whispered. Nightlight smiled at
him.
“Don't worry. Everyone here is stupid.” Mouse grumped from where he stood
behind Jamie, “I'll go with him and watch him if it'll get the rest of you to
stop with this pseudo-comforting spiel.”
“No, I'll go. I have to, I promised him something if he helped.” Emma piped up,
but Mouse snorted at her.
“Are you kidding me? You cringed and whimpered like a baby when you heard the
guy's voice! You'll shit yourself if he calls back.” Mouse pointed out,
crossing his arms, “It's either me or Yeti,” He thumbed at Phil, “Nightlight
wouldn't leave Manny's side for a moment unless he was ordered to!”
Nightlight made an embarrassed noise and mumbled, “I do have a lot of work here
to do, anyways.”
Emma pouted and she looked at Jamie, eyes pleading, “Come on Jamie, don't you
want me?”
Jamie spluttered at the question, caught in the spotlight, and he quipped, “You
threatened me with a knife. You cut me!” He gestured to his cheek, the wound
still an angry red line, though it had stopped bleeding a while ago.
“Water under the bridge!” Emma claimed, getting off the bed and approaching
Jamie, taking his hands in hers, “Don't tell me you'd rather be with the Rat.
You'll hurt my feelings.” She pouted.
“I'd rather be with Ph—Yeti,” Jamie admitted without hesitation. Emma's pout
turned bitter and she glared at Phil. The man coughed and held up a placating
hand.
“Wait, uh, er, don't you think that'd be... suspicious? What if the doctor
seeks you out? He'll find you with a cop and he'll run before you can talk to
him!”
“Great! So Nightlight won't do it, Yeti won't do it, and Emma can't do it.
Guess that just leaves me.” Mouse grinned, and Emma's glare turned downright
volatile as she turned it on him. Her grip on Jamie's hands turned painful,
making the man cringe and try to pull away.
“Ouch! Okay, okay, stop crushing my hand and I'll let you come!” Jamie yelped.
Emma's face brightened right as she let go of him.
“Good decision! Come on, let's go before these losers change their minds.” She
chirped out, grabbing Jamie's wrist instead and yanking him out of the room.
"Don't forget to tell us when he calls, Emma,” Nightlight reminded her with a
smile, rolling his eyes when she called back a half-promise as she dragged
Jamie down the stairs and out of the auto shop once more.
 
Chapter End Notes
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***** Was It Worth It *****
Chapter Summary
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Emma let out a breath as she stepped into Jamie's apartment. He shared it with
another guy who went to Burgess Community, he told her, but he rarely came
home. Jamie was half convinced the guy did what he could to avoid him. Still,
that made the apartment feel more like Jamie's. So long as the guy didn't touch
his room, Jamie was fine.
Speaking of people being in his room, Emma sought out his bed almost
immediately and threw herself on the mattress, sprawling out on her back and
letting out a relaxed sigh. Jamie blushed and tried not to watch as she made
herself comfortable. Instead, he went to his cabinets and started undressing,
wanting to change into something more comfortable to sleep in. It was late
already, the sky a bruised purple as the sun fell. Plus, all this running
around had Jamie feeling exhausted.
As he pulled on some sweatpants, Emma huffed and pushed herself upright, her
lips pursed in a pout. Jamie glanced at her briefly, then tugged off his shirt
and slid on a tank top instead. Tired of being ignored, Emma blurted out and
indignant, “Well?”
Jamie paused, then turned to look at her with a frown, “Well what?”
“Well what are you going to do to me, that's what!” Emma complained, gesturing
at herself with a hand. When all Jamie did was stare at her in confusion, Emma
rolled her eyes and clarified, “I promised I'd let you do whatever you want
with me! I don't know about you, but I'd rather get it out of the way now. I
hate being indebted to someone...”
Jamie frowned deeper and he slowly closed the drawers to his dresser, just to
buy him more time to think. Tentatively, he asked, “Well... does it have to be
sex?”
Emma snorted at him and tilted her head, repeating him in a mocking tone, “Does
it have to be sex? What else would you want? Don't tell me you don't think I'm
cute.”
Jamie blushed and looked away from her, muttering, “Erm... That's not it. I
mean... I'm not really into the whole... promiscuous thing. One night stands
and having a lot of sexual experience sounds great and all, but...” He took a
breath, forced himself to stop biting his lip, then looked back at Emma, and
idea in mind, “You said you're into mysteries, right? Was that true?”
Emma hummed, moving her head to push her hair over her shoulder, but without
her wig on, she only brushed back air. Embarrassed by the motion, she quickly
mumbled, “Yeah, I like them. Why?”
“We can just talk about the Overland murders. I mean, that's the whole reason
we're in this situation. I might as well know about what happened, right?”
Jamie suggested, stepping closer to the bed. Emma pulled her knees to her chest
defensively, a frown overtaking her features.
“That's not really a mystery.” She mentioned, looking up at Jamie through her
lashes, hugging her knees tightly.
“It is for me. Plus, talking about it might help us understand Kozmotis and his
motives.” Jamie pressed, raising his brows, “And you said you'd do anything,
right?”
Emma pursed her lips again, irritated at her words being used against her. She
scoffed at him and rolled her eyes, grumbling out a reluctant, “Yeah, fine, but
can I get something else to wear? I'm not sleeping in these clothes.”
Jamie grinned and went back to his dresser, pulling out a pair of flannel pants
and a baggy button-up tee. He tossed the clothes at her, then turned his back
to her as she dressed. She laughed at him when he turned, but said nothing
about it. He only turned back when she threw her balled up shirt at him and
said, “Alright, I'm done.”
Upon looking, Jamie's eyes caught on Emma, taking in the sight of her wrapped
up in the overlarge baggy shirt, the flannel pants rolled up tight around her
toned thighs, leaving the length of her pale legs on display. Jamie tried to
keep from staring as he made his way back to the bed, tried to keep the grin
off his face when she pulled back the blankets and climbed in, making herself
entirely too comfortable in his full-sized bed. Jamie squeezed in beside her,
taking one of the three admittedly flat pillows and setting it between them.
Emma rolled her eyes again at the action, but continued to keep her mouth shut.
Jamie had just hoped to push across the point that he wasn't interested in just
sex, but seeing her face, he wondered if she thought of him as a prude.
Emma laid on her side, looking at Jamie. Jamie mirrored her position and sighed
as he tried to get comfortable. He usually slept on his stomach, but there
wasn't enough room for that tonight.
Now he was actually kind of glad he hadn't taken Phil or Mouse home. It would
have been way more cramped. And in Mouse's case, uncomfortable.
“So, the murders,” Jamie reminded Emma, and she sighed and looked at the pillow
separating them. She ran her hand over it, her thin fingers following the
chevron lines on the pillow case.
“It's not that mysterious,” she mumbled again, tilting her head to the side
more, the light of the vanishing sun playing along the lines of her neck. Jamie
swallowed and forced himself to focus on her face instead.
“Try me.” Jamie pressed, meeting her eyes when she looked at him in doubt. A
deep sigh rattled from her chest, and she finally gave in.
“The murders...” She began, her eyes roaming to the ceiling, growing distant.
Jamie held his breath as he waited for the truth, “I guess I should start
with... what made a couple of preteens decide to murder their parents in the
middle of the night.”
“Sounds as good a place as any,” Jamie agreed in a whisper, and Emma laughed at
him.
“Alright. It began when we were seven.” Emma said, recalling the very first
moment she and Jack looked at one another in their mother's mirror, wearing her
dresses and faces messy with her makeup. Jack began to laugh uncontrollably,
amused at the sight of them. Emma, on the other hand, stared at herself in awe
and wonder. She touched her face, turned this way and that, and slowly, Jack's
mirth died down. Jack watched her as she watched herself, and when their eyes
met in the mirror, they understood what just happened.
They had their own separate reactions to a new experience. This had never
happened before, and it was terrifying, daunting, exciting, and above all...
accepted. Jack gave Emma a lazy grin. Emma let out a breath she didn't know she
was holding.
“You're so pretty.” Jack said to her, and Emma's cheeks heated up. She swayed
from side to side, playing with the skirts of her dress, smiling.
“Thank you,” She said, giving a little pose. Jack giggled and posed himself,
and Emma laughed in delight. They played more in their mother's clothes, Emma
having more fun than Jack, but Jack was enjoying himself just fine as he
watched his sister. They were both so deeply consumed in their play that they
jumped when the bedroom door swung open.
Their father stepped inside. He took one look at the two of them then grew
enraged, turning red in the face as he began to shout at them to take
everything off. When they didn't move fast enough, he stomped over and ripped
the dresses from them. Once the dresses and stockings and jewelry were off, he
grabbed the two of them by their arms and manhandled them into the bathroom,
throwing them into the tub and filling it with water. He began to wash of the
makeup from their faces, his touch far from gentle, and when the water was deep
enough, he took to forcing them under it to get a better grip. Jack and Emma
fought against every second of it, half-convinced that at this point, he was
merely trying to drown them. He probably would have, Emma believed, if their
mother hadn't come home just in time.
Their father grabbed the both of them once more and confronted their mother,
explaining the whole situation. Her face twisted in worry, but it wasn't nearly
enough of a reaction for their father. He sent the two of them to their
bedrooms, locking them in without dinner, and proceeded to argue with their
mother for the remainder of the day. Their mother managed to convince their
father that they had just been playing, that 'boys will be boys', and that they
shouldn't take it too seriously. With that, the matter was settled.
Except it wasn't. And Emma couldn't keep her mouth shut. The feelings towards
herself and how she wanted to be perceived as manifested within her. Jack could
feel it, too, she knew it by the way he smiled at her knowingly whenever he let
her play mommy during house and how often he told her how pretty or cute or
sweet she was. Emma relished every little second. She didn't have to come out
to him. All she said to him one morning was a timid, “My name is Emma now.”
And all Jack did, with his infinite patience and care, was look at her and say
with a smile on his face, “Okay. Can you pass me the spoon, Emma?”
And for a short while, everything was fine. Everyone was happy. Everything was
officially settled. That is, until their mother heard Jack call his sister
Emma, and realized they weren't playing pretend anymore. She confronted the two
of them about it, sat with them on their bed as Jack and Emma tried to explain
what Emma felt, why she didn't want to be Jack anymore. Their mother didn't
understand, not entirely, but she didn't do anything to stop it, either. All
she said told them was to keep quiet around their father. They agreed, but they
didn't know why. They continued to play just a little quieter now.
But their father wasn't a dumb man, and he caught on to the whole debacle much
quicker than their mother would have guessed. He all but blew up when Emma
fought with him on who she was, going back and forth between, “You're Jack!”
and, “I'm Emma!” He hit her before he really knew what he was doing, leaving a
giant swollen bruise right below her left eye. The end result was her silence,
and he liked that much more than her disobedience.
Jack and Emma shared a bed that night, Jack holding Emma tight as she cried in
pain after their father attempted to beat the 'queer' out of her. Neither of
them understood why this was happening, but they knew it started when Emma made
herself a new identity. Emma felt guilty while Jack became disdainful towards
their parents. He wouldn't allow Emma to blame herself even for a second if he
could help it. Their parents fought all throughout the night, only falling
quiet when both parties grew exhausted. They found their father on the couch
the morning after.
Kozmotis showed up shortly after that night, briefcase in hand and an impassive
look on his face. He regarded the twins with little to no emotion, as if they
were just another patient, not his grandchildren. He began their 'therapy'
right away, taking Emma away first, and Jack next. Jack's session went on for
an hour too long, but neither parent mentioned it.
Emma suffered punishments, both physical and mental. Kozmotis would dress her
up all pretty and proceed to mock her, call her ugly, despicable, revolting,
useless. Then he would dress her like how Jack dressed, and he would praise her
so nicely. He called her handsome, smart, good, ravishing. He was more handsy
when she looked like Jack. Emma could only wonder if Jack was going through the
same treatment, just in case they both turned out 'queer'. She would ask Pitch
sometimes what Jack's therapy was like. He would tell her to worry about
herself and stop asking questions.
Months passed as they went through therapy. Emma's self-confidence and self-
worth were taking a nose dive. Jack wasn't any better for whatever Pitch was
putting him through. One night, late at night, they laid together in Jack's bed
and whispered out plans of how they can stop this from happening. Emma
suggested she just be Jack again. Jack threw that option out the window and
wouldn't consider it a second longer. For that, Emma was both relieved and
frustrated. It was probably the easiest way to end the torture, but it also
meant a part of Emma would die.
The second option was to run away, which they put on the back burner as a
backup plan. Neither wanted to have to fend for themselves at the tender age of
eight. They weren't sure if they'd be capable.
The third option was to die. Second simplest option, but neither wanted to go
that route. Jack thought it felt too much like giving up, Emma thought it felt
too much like letting Pitch win.
The fourth option, and the one they ultimately went with, was to suck it up and
deal with it until they were old enough to do more. Neither liked it, but two
eight-year-olds had no power over their environment. Once they were older, more
responsible, had more connections, then they would reevaluate their situation.
Ends up, that was the worst plan they could've gone with. Pitch's sessions grew
sparse for one reason or another, but their father's disdain towards them grew.
Any toy he deemed too 'feminine' were given away, their wardrobes restricted to
'masculine' colors, and, the icing on the cake, every time one of them referred
to Emma as Emma, they would get the belt.
Therapy had gone from thrice a week to once a week to once a month, but they
became longer to make up for it. Jack's sessions were even longer still, but he
said nothing to Emma about what happened behind closed doors. Emma noticed her
own sessions weren't so miserable. Bad still, of course, but not unbearable.
She thought she was just getting used to the abuse.
It wasn't until they were eleven that Pitch and their parents grew tired of
their progress, or lack thereof. Their father demanded Pitch to do more. And he
did, by holding their very first therapy session together. Immediately
afterwards, Emma tried to kill herself--
“Whoa, wait,” Jamie interrupted, his head propped up by his hand as he looked
down at Emma, who had taken to cuddling the pillow between them. By her pursed
lips and narrowed eyes, she didn't like having her story interrupted. Still,
Jamie continued, “But what happened?”
“What?” Emma bit out, scowling.
“What happened during the session? You can't just say you went in, went out,
and wanted to die without explaining what he did. What was so much worse from
before that this pushed you over the edge?” Jamie pressed, gesturing vaguely
with his free hand. Emma scowled more and huffed the pillow tightly.
“You don't want to know.” Emma grumbled, but Jamie only made a face.
“I do. Sort of why I stopped you.” Jamie sassed, only to grunt when Emma kicked
at him underneath the blankets. She shoved the pillow at him next, but he only
chuckled and tossed it aside, scooting closer to her, “Please? None of this
ever leaves this room. I promise.”
Emma sighed through her nose, looking dubious, and yet she gave in once again.
Her eyes softened, vulnerable, and she looked back towards the ceiling, sucking
in a shaking breath. “He... He dressed me up. Made me look really pretty. Had
mom help me put on makeup. I thought... I thought they were finally accepting
me. Jack sat there with this huge smile on his face. I was so happy. I was so
pretty. But then mom left. Pitch locked the door. Pulled me close to him and he
whispered to me, 'So you want to be a girl? Alright, I'll let you be a girl.
But first you have to know what a girl must go through in order to become a
woman.'”
She closed her eyes, her voice growing hoarse, and she whispered, “After that,
he put me on the ground. On my hands and knees. He made Jack stand in front of
me. Told him to show me what happens when I'm me. When I'm Emma.”
“Show your brother what happens when he wants to be Emma.” Pitch whispered to
her brother, and Emma saw him change right before her eyes. His timid smile
fell, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes grew glossy. He seemed to struggle
against whatever was happening for only a moment, and then he was grabbing her
hair and tugging, shoving her, kicking her, screaming as he tried to scratch
her eyes out. She tried to fight back, but she couldn't hurt him. He was her
brother. He was the only person who understood her. The only person that could
hurt her. Pitch knew that. He knew it too well.
When Emma began to bleed too much, Pitch held Jack back and whispered into his
ear, and Jack dissolved into tears, sobbing and begging for Emma to forgive
him, begging for her to be okay. Pitch made him sit back down where he could
see her. He wasn't done.
“He pushed up my skirt.” Emma continued, her voice hanging onto a breath, “Said
this was all a girl like me was good for. And... and he...” Another breath, and
tears began to fall, sliding down the side of her cheek and wetting the pillow
beneath her head.
Jamie swallowed thickly, uncomfortable just lying there and watching as Emma
fell apart, but he didn't know what to do otherwise. He opened his mouth to say
something, stopped, then decided to reach out to her instead. He put a hand on
her shoulder first, a soft, safe spot. Emma blinked up at him, her eyes wet and
red. She took another breath, then wiggled closer to Jamie. She wrapped an arm
around his waist and tucked her head into the crook of his neck. She took a
single deep breath, held it for a moment, then sighed. Jamie closed his eyes
and hugged her tightly, keeping her close to him, feeling her tremble and cry
into his shirt collar.
“Did Pitch...--” Jack began to ask in a whisper, but he couldn't dare finish
the sentence. It hurt too much to think about it. Emma closed her eyes and
allowed herself a moment to reign herself in.
“No.” She finally said, and Jamie let out a heavy breath of his own. She was
okay. Pitch didn't-- “But Jack...”
“No.” Jamie wailed, and he clung to her tighter and cried, “Please tell me he
didn't. Please...”
“Jack knew what was going to happen. He begged Pitch not to, told him to leave
me alone. When he didn't come quickly enough, Jack offered to switch. Pitch
couldn't have looked happier. He made me watch as he took my brother. Over and
over, and all Jack did was bite his lip and cry.”
“Emma, I-I'm so.. sorry...” Jamie whimpered, his voice watery and thick. Emma
slowly opened her eyes, pulling away just enough to look up at him. They met
gazes for a long moment, and Emma tried to give him a smile, thought she could
feel how fake it looked.
“It's in the past.” Emma mumbled, “I tried to kill myself that night. Jack even
tried to help. He sat there and watched as we waited for the overdose to kick
in. I started throwing up, though, and I guess Jack changed his mind. He called
an ambulance, then got our parents, and I was taken to the hospital. They
pumped my stomach and I knocked out. When I was awake and more lucid, I asked
Jack why he didn't let me die. He told me it hurt to see me in pain, but he
couldn't bear to be without me. He begged me not to leave him behind, begged me
to choose another way out, and I agreed.”
After she was out of the hospital, their mother began to blame Pitch for the
attempted suicide. She loved her children, truly, she just didn't understand
them, and she was weak to her husband's wishes. Yet this near-death experience
gave her what she needed to put her foot down and put an end to the therapy
sessions. Pitch didn't take it kindly.
He demanded to get one more try, one last session to cure them for good. Their
mother refused at first, but with pressure from both Pitch and their father,
finally agreed, but only under one condition. She was going to bring them to a
new therapist, and if that didn't work out, then she would let Pitch have one
more chance. Pitch was cocky. He believed so strongly that no psychiatrist but
him would be able to fix Emma, so he agreed.
Two more years passed, and their mother wasn't seeing the results she wanted.
Just like Pitch had predicted, she and their father called him one last time.
Clever Jack had the foresight to eavesdrop on their conversation. That night,
he came to Emma with bad news.
“They're going to separate us,” Jack told Emma, his face dark, “Pitch is going
to come and take me away. Emma, you can't let him take me. I can't be with him,
I can't--” He was panicking. Emma got off her bed to join Jack on his, hugging
him immediately after. They held each other tightly, their minds racing, both
of them trying to decide what to do, how to get out of this.
“We have to run.” Emma decided.
“We have nowhere to go.” Jack pointed out.
“But we'll be together.” They both knew it. They both already agreed on it. It
was all they had left.
They waited until nightfall before they put their things together. They were
thirteen, but they were still kids, and they only had an idea of what they
needed. Clothes, money, food. The clothes were easy. The money was taken from
their parents' wallets. The food, the kitchens. But as they gathered their
favored snacks from the pantry, their father came down for a glass of water. He
caught them in the middle of the act and easily put two and two together.
He grabbed Emma around the waist and Jack by the hood of his sweater when he
tried to run. Emma screamed, loud and high-pitched, waking not only their
mother upstairs, but the neighbor who would call the cops later that night.
Jack yanked and tugged against his father's grip, managing to squirm his way
out of it completely, throwing their father off balance. With an extra shove,
he went toppling, and Emma crawled away from him. Food forgotten, Emma and Jack
grabbed their backpacks and ran for the front door. Their mother was just
coming down the stairs as Jack yanked the door open. She shrieked and ran
forward, but Jack shoved Emma out the door and ended up in the woman's tight
grasp.
“Jack!” Emma cried as the preteen wrestled with their mother.
“Go! Run! It's okay!” Jack shouted back, even as their mother gained the upper
hand and, with the strength of a woman who had been wrestling twin children for
more than a decade, she lifted Jack into the air and brought him further
inside.
Emma would have none of that. She threw her backpack off and charged back
inside, tackling their mother down like a football player. Jack fell as well,
striking his head hard against the wood floor. He laid there, dazed, as Emma
wailed on their mother, tugging her hair, throwing fists at her face. The woman
was screaming, crying out, “Jack! Help me, Jack!”
Like a good husband, their father, Jackson, managed to stumble his way out of
the kitchen and took a moment to take in what was happening. He stomped his way
to Emma, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her in the air, grunting as
she squirmed and howled. Her limbs were flailing wildly, searching for
something, anything to hit. Their mother groaned as she pushed herself upright,
just as dizzy as Jack still was and face bloody. Jack was slowly coming to,
having crawled to the wall and using it to hoist himself back to his feet, his
knees trembling all the while.
“Take them to their room!” Their mother shouted, only to wince when she pulled
on her split lip. Jackson nodded and began to drag Emma upstairs. Her cries
spurred Jack to refocus faster.
“Let go of my sister!” Jack roared, running forward to shove Jackson down, but
he wasn't strong enough, especially when Jackson was planted firmly on his
feet, unlike before. Their mother grabbed Jack by the arms while Jackson
hurried up the stairs. Emma screamed out her brother's name, but their mother's
grip was like iron, and before she knew it, she was being thrown into their
bedroom, the door locking behind her.
“I'm not entirely sure what happened next,” Emma admitted to Jamie, her eyes
still teary, but her voice stronger and more confident as she retold the
events. “I was trapped in the bedroom and I could hear Jack screaming and
screaming. I thought he would get away, so I used the blankets as a makeshift
rope and climbed out the window. By the time I made it to the ground, the
screaming had stopped.”
She tucked her nose closer to Jamie's skin, her eyes closed again, and she
whispered tiredly, “The bedroom window to my parents' room opened and I saw
Jack throw the knife outside. He saw me and told me to run, to find Pitch and
make him pay. There were sirens in the distance, coming closer. I told him to
come with me, but he said someone had to stay and take care of the 'mess'. He
said he would find me when he was able to. I promised him I would kill Pitch. I
took the knife with me and ran and... and that was it.”
Emma looked up at Jamie, saw him looking at her with wide, emotional eyes. He
was dumbstruck, unable to speak, and Emma sighed.
“There,” She said, closing her eyes once again and getting comfortable on
Jamie's chest, “I told you the truth. Jack saved me. And once Pitch calls back,
I'll save him.”
“And you'll kill Pitch.” Jamie said, not a question or an accusation, just a
statement. One that was true. One Emma was determined to make true.
“And I'll kill Pitch.” She agreed, a small smile on her lips. Jamie hummed, a
noise of affirmation, and he held her tighter, closing his own eyes.
After a long pause, Jamie whispered, “Thanks for telling me.”
Emma didn't respond. Jamie thought she may have fallen asleep already. Just as
he was about to let it go, though, she whispered back, “Thanks for listening.”
Jamie breathed lightly through his nose, and he left it at that. They settled
down, their minds full of what Emma had told Jamie. So many questions, so many
worries, and yet sleep had a much louder siren call. Jamie felt his body grow
heavy and warm, his breath even out, and his brain quieted. He had just begun
to drown when a loud snippet of the Twilight Zone theme began to play from
Jamie's nightstand. Emma and Jamie both jerked upright, Emma startled and Jamie
annoyed.
“What is that?” Emma slurred out sleepily, watching as Jamie groaned and rolled
away from her, smacking his hand onto the nightstand once, twice, before he
found his phone and pulled it to his face. He didn't glance once at the caller
ID before he answered, just as annoyed and tired as he felt.
“It's freaking midnight, who--?!” Jamie began to complain, but he cut himself
with a very pointed yawn, “Who's this?”
“Jamie, It's Kozmotis Pitchiner.” Pitch's voice rumbled coolly from the
speaker, and Jamie choked on air in his rush to sit up properly. Emma snapped
her mouth shut with a click, holding her breath tight in her chest.
“Professor! You.... I.... Er....” Jamie stammered, sitting perfectly upright
now and wracking his mind for something, anything! This was so much harder now
that he knew what Emma and Jack had gone through. How was he supposed to do
this?! He should have begged Nightlight to come with, at least he had some
semblance of a plan before. As it was, Emma had completely frozen up, just like
Mouse had predicted. No help would be coming from her. Jamie gritted his teeth,
his breathing gone ragged.
“Calm down, Jamie,” Kozmotis was saying over the phone, his own voice
surprisingly relaxed, “I do not have much time. I know you must be under
witness protection. They could have bugged your phone. But that is beside the
point; I'm glad you called.”
“Y-you... are?” Jamie breathed, struggling to keep up. Kozmotis hummed
positively.
“Tell me, do you still trust me, Jamie? Do you still believe Jack is the
murderer?” Kozmotis asked, and Jamie paused to swallow.
“I...” He glanced at Emma, who was beginning to look a little blue in the face.
“I want to. But I.... I'm so confused.” Be vulnerable, Jamie told himself.
Desperate. Like Nightlight said. “Why did you run? Why didn't you take Jack in?
Why--”
“Hush, now, hush. I will answer your questions soon, I promise. Look, I will be
down there by the end of the week. Why don't we meet at my house this weekend?
I'll make sure the cops stay away, you just have to come alone.” Kozmotis
planned, and Jamie scrambled for something to write it all down on so he
wouldn't forget. Kozmotis gave him his address soon after, then said, “Oh, and
Jamie?”
“Yes, Professor?”
Kozmotis chuckled softly through the phone, then practically purred, “You're a
smart man for believing in the truth. Thank you for trusting me with this.”
Jamie blinked, taken aback by how genuine Pitch sounded. He wasn't sure how to
respond, really, but Pitch was waiting for something.
Taking a slow breath, Jamie closed his eyes and said as genuinely as he could,
“I just... want this all to be over with...”
“You and me both.” Kozmotis hummed. He waited only a moment longer before
saying, “Remember. This weekend, come alone. Don't let me down.” And with that,
Pitch hung up. Jamie placed his phone back on the nightstand. Suddenly, he
wasn't so tired.
“What did he say?” Emma whispered, but Jamie knew she heard the conversation.
She must have been more frightened than he originally thought.
“This weekend. He'll be at his place. He wants me to come alone...” Jamie
pressed his lips into a line, then looked at Emma, “That gives us time to
prepare.”
Emma nodded and got up from the bed, “I'll call Nightlight,” She said, and
Jamie blinked up at her with wide eyes.
“Wh—Already?” Jamie blurted out, surprising not only himself, but Emma as well,
who stopped short of opening Jamie's bedroom door and looked back at him. Jamie
blushed bright red. He really didn't mean to say it out loud, but... “I-
I was... I mean, can't we just call him in the morning?”
Emma's curious stare disappeared, her eyes narrowing instead and her lips
pulling back in a sneer. Putting a hand on her hip, she asked, “And what do you
expect to do until then? Do you want me to crawl back in bed and cry some more
on your shoulder? Tell you more about how my troubled and mysterious past?
Fuck, you got off on it, didn't you?!”
“Whoa, what?! Draw me a fucking line, here, Emma, ‘cause I have no clue how you
got from point A to fucking Z!” Jamie blurted, getting up from the bed himself.
“I'm calling Nightlight.” Emma said instead, twisting the doorknob and throwing
it open, only to gasp and take a step back when she came face-to-face with
Jamie's roommate, who had his hand raised like he was about to knock.
“Who the fuck--?!” Emma began to shout, but Jamie rushed over and gently pulled
Emma back by the arm.
“Emma, this is just my roommate! Monty, this is Emma. Okay? Great. Now, what do
you want?” He rambled, stepping between them completely and facing Monty
directly. Monty huffed and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his
nose, looking more than slightly put off as he looked over Emma. Jamie suddenly
felt too hot.
“Right.” Monty muttered, his brow dipping down in judgment. He looked at Jamie
again, then said, “I heard yelling.”
“Lover's spat.” Emma bit out, and Jamie squeezed his eyes shut, feeling like he
just died from embarrassment. Of course Emma could read the atmosphere, and of
fucking course she would take it personally, “He wanted to fuck my ass tonight
and I said no. Now I think I'm going to change my mind. Hope you weren't
planning on getting any sleep.”
“Emma, stop!” Jamie hissed at her, but Monty had already reacted with a
grimace, exactly what Emma was seeking out of him. She ignored Jamie's demands
and instead proceeded to hang herself off of Jamie's arm, a lazy grin spreading
on her lips.
“I'd ask if you'd want to join, but, hmm, that's just too many dicks in the
room.”
“Emma,” Jamie tried again to no avail.
“And I'm not talking about Jamie.”
Monty physically recoiled at that, a disgusted grunt tearing through his throat
as he stomped away from Jamie's room. Jamie had half a mind to go after him,
but what would he even say? He and Monty hadn't really been friends ever since
they were kids. Or rather, ever since Jamie came out. Emma was just making
everything between them worse.
“What's your problem?!” Jamie shouted, and Emma sneered and all but threw
Jamie's arm down.
“My problem?! What's yours? Why are you living with some bigot transphobe?”
Emma interrogated, shoving Jamie in the shoulder.
“He's not--!” Jamie groaned, cutting that argument short and instead declaring,
“Because he's my friend, Emma!”
“Some friend he is when he takes one look at me and looks like he wants to
vomit!” Emma scoffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, “Makes me fucking
wonder what he even thinks of you.”
Jamie groaned again and rubbed at his temples, irritated, “What is your point?!
Is this even relevant? You don't even care! Just—Just go call Nightlight and
leave! You have what you need from me.”
The fight drained from Emma the moment those words left his mouth and she
looked at Jamie with wide eyes, “What? But... Aren't you going to come?”
“Why would I? You told me to find him and I did. I'm done with this bullshit.”
Jamie stated, stepping away from Emma with a scowl, heading towards the couch
so he could sit down. “Keep the pajamas. I don't even care. Just go.”
“B-but...” Emma mumbled, actually looking... hurt. Jamie didn't know why.
Wasn't she just saying that she was going to leave, anyways? It wasn't like
Jamie was kicking her out. He was just reminding her that she wanted to leave
in the first place. He laid down on the couch, stretching out on his back and
sighing, trying to will the anger in him to burn out faster.
The room remained quiet, and Jamie half hoped that he had just missed hearing
the front door open and shut with Emma's departure. Jamie let out another long
sigh. What was her problem? Her mood swung so fast it was almost impossible to
keep up without getting pulled under. And she was so freaking paranoid...
But was that even her fault? From what she told him, her childhood was shit. At
least Jamie had a support system when he came out. Sure, he lost a few friends,
Monty sort of being one of them, but his dad still loved him, and his real
friends never held it against him. Emma had Jack, but for how long? And she
lost him in her most vulnerable moments.
The couch dipped with added weight. Jamie slowly opened his eyes, finding Emma
kneeling over him and slowly laying down on his chest, curled up and quiet like
a disciplined pup. She glanced up at Jamie, frowned, and looked away.
“Fuck off,” She grumbled, angrily curling up tighter around him, “This is my
bed now.”
Jamie stared at her for a long moment. She made a point of saying nothing.
Finally, Jamie said, “I don't understand you at all.”
Thankfully, Emma smirked at that. She shifted where she lay, then mumbled,
“Good. Keeps you on your toes. Go to sleep.”
Jamie sighed, but he wrapped his arms around her and complied.
The morning after, Nightlight arrived remarkably quickly, showing up the very
same hour Emma called him. He came alone as well, dressed more preppy than the
other day with a fitted white sweater and black denim skinny jeans tucked into
a pair of stylish ankle-high boots. Emma greeted him happily, kissing his cheek
and telling him she'll wait in the car for them. She looked back at Jamie when
she said them, making a point that she expected him to come, too. She really
did want him to tag along, after all. Jamie didn't really know why; he was
downright useless to them.
She vanished down the steps of the apartment complex and Jamie expected
Nightlight to follow, but instead, Nightlight pushed Jamie back into the
apartment and followed after him, slamming the door shut behind him with a
kick.
“We need to discuss something,” Nightlight said in a kind tone, but Jamie
didn't miss the touch of threat underlining his words. Jamie swallowed thickly,
immediately on edge, but he nodded anyways. He would have offered Nightlight a
seat, but Nightlight didn't have time for polite gestures. He didn't let a
moment longer pass before he said, “I didn't think I would have to have this
particular conversation with anyone about Emma, but I'm also not surprised it
has to be with you. I don't know what you two got up to last night and I don't
particularly care. Emma is a big girl, she can make her own decisions, but she
is still our Emma. She belongs to Tsar—To Manny. And I'm his right hand. If
there are one too many flies buzzing around his girl, he's going to want to
swat them. Am I getting my point across or should I be more direct?”
At that, Nightlight slipped something from the pocket of his jacket, not
revealing it entirely, just showing enough of the serrated silver blade to make
Jamie shiver. No, he definitely got his point across, Jamie was certain of
that. There was no way in hell he could have interpreted this conversation as
anything other than a threat to his life. The information he had had been
given, rendering him useless to Manny, Emma, and their whole gang. He was just
lucky they didn't think of him as a loose end they needed to cut.
“Definitely on the same page,” Jamie responded roughly, his eyes glued to the
blade hidden in Nightlight's pocket, and he didn't look away even when the man
tucked it back in. Nightlight hummed, took a step back, and the tense air in
the room seemed to dissipate in moments as he put on a cheery smile.
“Good. I hate repeating myself.” Nightlight chirped, stuffing both hands into
his coat pocket, “Now that that's out of the way, I gotta go. And you're not
coming along.”
Jamie made a face at that and blurted out, “What? But what about Kozmotis? He
told me to come.”
Nightlight laughed, right in Jamie's face, and he said joyously, “Are you
kidding? He'll be there. That's all we'll need. You're done.”
“But Emma...” Jamie argued, and the immediate shift from happy Nightlight to
disappointed Nightlight shut Jamie up faster than if he had hit him. His hand
shifted in his pocket. Jamie took another step back, leaning against the back
of the couch.
“Emma doesn't make these decisions, Jamie. And neither do you. Don't make me
think of you as a threat.” Nightlight warned, his brows raised high on his
forehead. When Jamie nodded silently, Nightlight backed down and turned towards
the door, tugging it open.
“You did good, Jamie.” He told him over his shoulder, leaving soon after. When
the front door slammed shut, Jamie let out a breath he didn't realize he was
holding. He pressed a hand to his chest, able to feel his heart racing below
the skin, and he jumped when he heard another door swing open.
Monty peered into the living room, a startled, worried look on his face. He
looked around the room first, checking to see if anyone else was there. When he
realized it was only Jamie there, he met his eyes, and he slowly stepped out of
his room. He looked pale in the morning light, and much too nervous for Jamie
to be comfortable. Monty licked his lips and looked at the ground, then at the
door, trying to decide how to say whatever was on his mind. Jamie, too shaken
up to do much to help, waited quietly.
“Are you... in a gang?” Monty finally asked, and Jamie's face twisted up in
discomfort, a little irritated at the question.
“No.” He replied simply, and he could see Monty physically relax, though his
face remained an unhealthy pale. Jamie turned to face the door again, his brows
furrowed, and he mumbled, “They just wouldn't leave me alone.”
Monty pressed his lips into a line at that, and he asked as gently as he could,
“Are you in trouble?” That made Jamie smile, touched by his probably misplaced
concern for him. Maybe Jamie wasn't the only one hoping their friendship could
be salvaged.
“I don't know. Not yet, I don't think.” Jamie admitted, stepping away from the
back of the couch even though his legs still felt like jelly. He moved around
the side so he could sit on it properly, leaning back heavily into the
cushions, “If I am, I'll let you know.”
Monty didn't respond, but he didn't look entirely too satisfied by that answer.
He readjusted his glasses, looking thoughtful, but whatever questions that were
swimming around in his mind, he didn't put to words. Instead, he turned and
headed back into his room, closing the door with a soft click. Jamie sighed and
laid down on the couch, his feet hanging off the side and his eyes staring up
at the ceiling. He wondered briefly what Emma thought of him now, if she
thought he didn't come by choice or if Nightlight would tell her that he didn't
want to take him. He imagined she would be disappointed, perhaps upset, but
maybe he was just hoping for such reactions. Maybe he had become too attached
to her in the end. How she managed to pull that off in only a day and a half,
Jamie didn't know, but he was thoroughly impressed.
But what should it matter to him? Nightlight was right, he was done. This
wasn't his story. This wasn't his battle to fight. He had no business sticking
his nose in Emma and Jack's childhood or trying to uncover what Kozmotis had
done to them.
Jamie rubbed his hands over his eyes, groaning as his mind took a turn. Wasn't
it his fault that Kozmotis had Jack, though? Shouldn't he be with them, trying
to get him back? Maybe they didn't trust him. He was sure he didn't exactly
come off as trustworthy, either. After all he had done up to the point Emma
flirted her way into his life, Jamie had been making every wrong decision he
could. Not on purpose, Jamie told himself, but he had been going down a spiral
ever since Kozmotis gave him that damned CD.
He just hoped everything would pan out well. He hoped Emma might show up next
week on his doorstep with Kozmotis' head in her hand and a grin on her face.
But until then, he'll just have to keep going. He had class today, he reminded
himself. Not Psychology, but he still had work to do if he wanted to graduate.
And maybe he'll look into changing his major, too.
The weekend came faster than Jamie was prepared for. He felt like his days all
blurred together, lectures lost on him and his free time spent in his bed. He
hadn't had a shower in a few days and he knew he probably smelled funky, but he
couldn't manage the thought of exerting that much energy. Plus, he was still
half hoping Emma and Nightlight would come back for him. He certainly didn't
want to miss them just because he was stuck in the shower.
It seemed Jamie's impromptu low spell was just as aggravating to Monty as it
was to Jamie. The blond ended up coming into Jamie's room Saturday night and
all but dragged Jamie into the bathroom, Jamie whining the whole way. Jamie
worried for a moment that Monty was going to try and undress him, but it seemed
even he knew that was a step too far, and Monty instead shoved Jamie, clothes
and all, right into an ice-cold shower. The effect was immediate, if not
absolutely terrible, and Jamie scrambled away from the freezing downpour with a
yelp, his energy renewed. He was absolutely certain he hated Monty now, but he
had to admit, he felt a lot better than just a few minutes ago.
“Jesus, man, you can't just—ugh!” Jamie began to tug on his dampened clothes.
Monty pulled the bathtub curtain shut, not wanting to see any of it. “My packer
is totally soaked...”
“You were beginning to smell. Plus, I was starting to get upset just looking at
you.” Monty complained, trying to sound biting, but he didn't have his heart in
it. Jamie pretended not to notice for his sake.
Tossing his clothes over the metal curtain rod, Jamie played with the dials in
the shower until the water was at a more bearable heat, then proceeded to wash
himself off.
“What's going on with you, Jamie?” Monty asked, and Jamie had to keep from
catching on the way Monty would hesitate when he said his name. He stayed
quiet, not really sure if he had an answer for him, but Monty was expecting
something...
“Midlife crisis?” Jamie joked dryly. He wasn't offended when Monty didn't
laugh.
“Is it those people again? They're not still bothering you, are they?” Monty
asked, referring to Emma's gang, “Maybe you should talk to a cop.”
“No, it's... it's not that. They haven't bothered me at all this week.” And
that was why he felt so down. But it felt strange saying it out loud. Jamie
figured normal people wouldn't want some gang knocking on his door and inviting
him to go break a law or two. Then again, normal people probably would never
find themselves in a situation like his.
“So what is it?” Monty pressed, obviously upset that he didn't know how to
help, “Is it...”
“I don't know, Monty. Okay? I don't know.” Jamie cut in, leaning against the
shower wall and sighing, “It's... personal and... I don't know how to put it in
words. Why do you even care, anyway?”
Monty fell quiet at that. The pattering of the shower hitting the floor echoed
in the bathroom. Jamie could feel a headache coming on already from laying down
all week, and that only added to his irritation. The hot water wasn't doing him
any good either, so he tugged at the dials, choking off the last of the stream.
A hand suddenly jutted past the curtains, a towel in its grip, and Jamie
reluctantly took it, muttering the barest of a 'thanks' under his breath as he
wrapped himself up in it. He considered pulling it around his chest as well,
and decided for the sake of both of their comfort, he would. Once decently
covered, Jamie pushed the curtains back and stepped out onto the bath rug, his
head ducked down.
“We're friends, aren't we?” Monty asked gently, looking anywhere but at Jamie.
“Are we?” Jamie retorted, not bitterly, but honestly asking. Monty grimaced
nevertheless.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He said, his brows furrowed as he
stared down into his lap.
“Yeah, well, I'm not.” Jamie replied shortly, pushing his wet hair out of his
face, “But I'll figure it out, okay? Now... now get out. As much as I miss
talking to you, I'd rather do so dressed.”
Monty looked sheepish, but he stepped out of the bathroom without a word,
heading instead for the living room to give Jamie ample space to go to his own
bedroom. Once alone, Jamie considered just laying down again despite being
nude, but the pounding in his head and the fact that Monty was waiting for him
urged him towards actually getting dressed. He wouldn't want to live if Monty
walked in on him naked and sulking.
He tugged on his clothes lazily, exhausted after the shower and the week of
moping around. Once he had a shirt and a pair of boxers on, Monty wandered to
his doorway, still keeping his eyes adrift.
“Maybe we should go out. Get your mind off of... things.” Monty suggested, but
Jamie grumbled at the idea and pulled on a pair of jeans.
“I'm not really in the mood.” He mumbled. Besides, if he was out, he would
definitely miss Emma if she and the others came back to get him. Jamie snorted
at himself. He didn't really know why he was so hung up on this, but it
comforted him, strangely enough. And stressed him out at the same time.
“Not even for coffee?” Monty pressed, looking hopeful, bringing Jamie back to
their conversation. He thought about it. It sounded sort of appealing,
actually. Plus, it would give him and Monty a chance to catch up, maybe.
He opened his mouth to accept Monty's offer, but was promptly cut off by a
rapid series of knocks on their front door. Monty twisted around to look at it
in shocked confusion, his mouth twisting in a grimace. They never had
visitors...
“I'll get it.” Monty said a moment later, stepping away from Jamie's bedroom
door and towards the front. Jamie pulled on a sweater and some socks in the
meantime. From his spot on the bed, he heard Monty pull the door open.
A very familiar if not irritated voice tore through the air, and Jamie sat
rigid as he heard Mouse ask loudly, “Hey, I'm looking for that Jamie guy. Brown
hair? Babyface? Yea tall?”
“Mouse!” Jamie shouted as he bolted for the door, nearly stumbling his own feet
in his rush to confront the man. The poor guy was startled by the shout, his
eyes wide and his chest heaving and he gripped the door frame to steady
himself.
“Jesus Christ, man! I didn't go shouting your name at the top of my lungs!” He
wheezed, taking a step back when he had a handle on himself, “Put your shoes
on, we gotta go.”
“Go? Go where? Is Emma with you? What did Nightlight say? Did he change his
mind? Are we--” Jamie began to ramble, shooting off question after question
until he felt himself turning blue in the face. Mouse rolled his eyes, ignoring
every last one of them as he pushed Monty aside, stepped into their apartment,
and dug through their shoe rack for a pair that looked like Jamie's. Shoving
the shoes into his arms, he grabbed the still babbling man by the front of his
shirt and began dragging him outside.
“Super put together. Yep, you're definitely the help we need. Totally see why
Emma was going bat-shit crazy over you.” Mouse muttered sarcastically under his
breath, then, a bit louder, “Come on, car's waiting.”
They barely got through the door when Monty lurched forward and grabbed Jamie's
arm, yanking him back forcefully. Tentatively, Monty questioned, “Where are you
going? I thought you weren't feeling well.”
“Oh, don't worry your nerdy little head about it,” Mouse snarked, tugging Jamie
forward to dislodge Monty's grip, “We'll have him back tomorrow. Maybe. We'll
see.”
“Don't worry! I'll be back later!” Jamie called out just as Mouse yanked the
door shut. Hand still fisted in Jamie's shirt, Mouse walked Jamie down the
stairs and towards the parking garage, quiet most of the way. Nervously, Jamie
asked, “So... is it just you? Or...”
“Just me, Nightlight, and Emma. Yeti's gonna trail us in his cop car.” Mouse
said casually, his brows lifting, “Emma totally blames you, by the way. She
already kicked Nightlight's ass. Can't wait to see what she'll do to you.”
“What? But Nightlight wouldn't let me come!” Jamie argued, getting a snort from
Mouse.
“What, do you need a fucking field trip form? Do you always listen to daddy
Nightlight? You're pathetic.” He taunted, shaking his head, “Oh well. We're not
using you for your independence. We just need an in with Kozmotis.”
“Oh...” Jamie mumbled, a little put off. Well, what was he expecting? They were
the ones more skilled in this sort of crap. Jamie was lucky they wanted him to
come along for the ride.
They reached the car Nightlight and Emma waited at shortly after, Emma sitting
in the passenger's seat and Nightlight leaning against the side of it. Jamie
gave the man a once over, frowning when he realized Nightlight didn't even look
bruised or beaten. Maybe Mouse was just taking the piss out of him.
“You're driving. Get in.” Nightlight announced to Jamie, tilting his head
towards the car. Jamie gulped and stepped around the car after Mouse dropped
his shirt. He slid into the driver's seat nervously, closing the door behind
him. Emma smiled over at him and tugged her door shut, followed by another two
heavy thunks as Nightlight and Mouse got settled. Jamie started the car up
“Yeti's going to tail us at a distance to give us time, just in case this
doctor is watching.” Nightlight said, and Jamie felt himself tense.
“Don't you think he'll flip out of he sees a cop car behind me?” Jamie blurted,
glancing back at Nightlight from the rear view mirror. The man in question
scoffed and shook his head, but Mouse was the one who spoke up.
“What, you think we're amateurs? He's going to stay parked around the corner.
If things turn to shit, he'll be our backup.” He explained in a rude tone,
following it up with a few muttered insults under his breath. Jamie couldn't
find it in himself to relax, though, and he sucked in a few nervous breaths.
Emma, sitting quietly beside him, reached out to touch his arm, giving him a
reassuring squeeze.
“We got this, Jamie.” She said to him, her confidence warm and comforting.
Jamie took in another slow breath, then nodded and began to pull out of the
parking lot. Making it to the road, Jamie noticed the cop car following them,
knowing that it was Phil.
“Alright.” Jamie whispered, mostly to himself, “Everything's going to work
out.”
“Probably,” Mouse added unhelpfully.
“I'll make sure we stay safe.” Nightlight promised, albeit reluctantly, “Just
stick to the plan and don't panic. The last thing we need is an unpredictable
variable.” He met Jamie's gaze once more in the rear view mirror. Jamie gulped
and nodded, snapping his eyes back to the road.
The drive to Kozmotis' house was long and quiet. Emma was tense beside him, her
hands constantly tightening into fists, then relaxing and smoothing out the
worn fabric of her gray jeans. Nightlight kept his nose in his phone,
constantly shooting messages out and receiving them even more frequently. The
constant chirping of his phone put Jamie's teeth on edge, but he didn't dare
utter a word about it. Mouse seemed to be the only one out of them completely
relaxed, slumped back in his chair and staring out at the world passing them
by, the rhythmic flicker of the streetlamps ghosting against his tan skin and
his fingers tapping impatiently against handle on the car door.
“So what is the plan, anyways?” Jamie asked as he got onto the freeway,
glancing behind him to make sure Phil was following in his car.
“Your part in it is simple. You drive us there, you knock on the door, and you
distract him so that we can sneak in and incapacitate him.” Nightlight
answered, barely lifting his gaze from his phone to regard him, “And while we
do what we do, you're going to sit aside and do nothing.”
“Jack isn't going to be there.” Jamie pointed out confidently, “Kozmotis
wouldn't risk losing him again if he's gone through this much trouble.”
“You don't know that.” Emma mumbled, her voice uncharacteristically soft and
her stare distant, “Pitch is a lot more egotistical than you'd think. He'd want
to bring along his prize.”
Jamie shifted, a frown on his face, but he didn't reply. He still didn't think
Kozmotis would be stupid enough to bring Jack, especially with the cops in town
were looking for them. But Emma knew him better than Jamie did, that was for
certain.
“Then I'll do what I can to keep him distracted for as long as you need,” Jamie
promised, his brow furrowing as he thought about what that meant. He'd have to
be alone with Kozmotis for whoever knew how long, acting as if he didn't know
the shit he put Emma and Jack through, acting as if he didn't know for a fact
that Kozmotis was a disgusting, pedophilic, incestuous rapist who had put his
own grandchildren through Hell.
Jamie's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his face turning red with
suppressed rage. He took in a sharp breath, trying to calm himself down. If he
was going to do this, he needed a clear head. He couldn't think about this
shit. He couldn't remind himself of the truth.
Emma reached over and touched Jamie's thigh, catching his attention for a
moment before he focused back on the road. Her grip tightened, reassuring.
Jamie felt his shoulders slowly relax, and then the breath he took unwound from
his lungs in a gentle stream.
“We're doing this for Jack.” Emma said, looking at Jamie directly while Jamie
only glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
“But what if I can't keep it together?” Jamie whispered, forcing his fingers to
unwind from the steering wheel for just a moment, allowing him to stretch the
tension in them away, “After all you told me... How can I not look at him and
want to punch him in the face immediately after?”
“Because if you do, Jack dies.” Emma reminded, and Jamie felt himself sober
considerably quickly. She squeezed his thigh once more, then pulled away, her
entire demeanor changing from sullen and introverted to ecstatic. Turning in
her seat, she faced Mouse and Nightlight, a wide grin tugging at her lips.
“What the fuck are we doing? Why are we all so quiet?” She asked. Jamie
hesitated to answer, not sure if she was being rhetorical or not. Mouse looked
nervous as well, but Nightlight's eyes lifted from his phone completely to
stare at her.
“We're keeping a low profile.” He said, sounding a little reluctant. Emma
snorted at him, and she tilted her head and repeated his words in a mocking
tone before she spun back around, digging through her pockets and pulling out
her own cell phone. Nightlight seemed to tense and he immediately said, “Emma,
don't.”
“I just want some music, Nighty-night.” She said with a smile, though the
mischievous look in her eyes said she had something up her sleeve. She plugged
her phone into the car radio swiftly, giggling when Mouse groaned and
immediately covered his ears.
“Emma.” Nightlight warned, but Emma had already selected her song. The music
sounded like some techno-rave genre, synthesized beats pouring from the
speakers. Emma grinned wider and slowly cranked up the volume, much to
Nightlight and Mouse's distaste, and soon a voice began to rap over the fast-
paced beat. Jamie, startled by Emma's taste in music, glanced her way twice,
silently wondering if she was being serious right now. She met his gaze both
times, looking deliriously happy, and then she began to rap along with the
singer.
Jamie burst out into a fit of giggles before he could stop himself, Emma
belting the lyrics out and Nightlight and Mouse's twin looks of almost physical
pain becoming too much to bear. Emma even went so far as to roll down her
window and throw her fist into the wind, catching Phil's attention immediately.
The man sped up and drove alongside them, wordlessly asking them what was going
on. Nightlight replied with a hand to his face and a slight shrug. Emma used
this opportunity to point at Yeti and shout the next few lyrics.
“I freak you the fuck out ‘cause I choose to be free!” She rapped, and Jamie
suffered another burst of poorly repressed giggles. Phil rolled his eyes, but
Jamie could see him smiling underneath that bushy mustache of his, and he
lagged back once again, reclaiming his position behind them.
“Turn it off! We're supposed to be inconspicuous!” Nightlight demanded, sliding
forward in his seat and gripping the backrest of Emma's seat.
“Inconspicuous to who? It's just us and Phil and a handful of strangers out
here tonight!” Emma argued, gesturing at the empty road ahead of them, “I'm
playing music loudly. No one's going to look at us and go, 'Well look at that
car full of gang bangers! Better remember their license plate number!' Take a
fucking seat, okay?”
“Can you at least play a less obnoxious song?” Mouse piped up, pressing his
temple against the cold glass window, his fingers still pressed into his ears
to blot out the most of the music.
“I don't know, I kind of like this.” Jamie mumbled, and Emma shot him a
thrilled smirk.
“Driver has spoken! My music stays on!” She chirped, winking at Mouse and
settled back comfortably in her seat, giggling when one rap-rave song faded out
into another.
Nightlight grit his teeth, but he slumped back in his chair and resumed
texting, keeping his screen to his nose and his brows furrowed. Jamie let out
another soft giggle, then did his best to focus back on driving again.
With the music blasting and Jamie zipping down the freeway, for a moment it
felt like Jamie was just going for a road trip with a bunch of his friends.
Glancing in the rear view mirror at the other two passengers, Jamie briefly
wondered if this was what they always felt like whenever they did a job
together. They all seemed relatively collected, Emma only an exception because
of who they were going to face. He could picture her acting just like her
usual, crazy self if this job was any other ordinary one... whatever ordinary
might be for her.
Losing himself in thoughts and Emma's rap-rave music pounding through the
speakers, the rest of the drive was lost to the back of his mind, a mere haze
of twenty minutes that melted together into what felt like an unremarkable
five. He only came back to himself when he heard Nightlight whisper, “This is
the exit,” and felt him grip the back of his seat.
Getting off the freeway was easy. Emma reached forward and shut off the radio,
her eyes focused. They were still a ways to go from Kozmotis' residence, but
now that they were in the suburbs, they needed to be a bit more careful.
Nightlight scooted forward on the bench seat in the back, leaning his elbows on
the edge of Jamie and Emma's backrests. Jamie continued to drive through the
city, heeding Nightlight's uttered directions leading them to Kozmotis'
neighborhood.
As they turned onto the street leading into the dense cluster of quaint homes,
a car further down turned on, heading their way.
“Keep driving.” Nightlight urged when he saw Jamie's hands tremble on the
steering wheel, considering pulling over so they didn't risk being seen. The
cars came closer. Emma leaned forward in her seat, her brows furrowed, tilting
her head as she read the license plate.
With a squeak, Emma ducked down, just as the car began to pass. Nightlight
glanced at her and Mouse peered over her seat, but Jack looked out his window
at the other car, admiring the sleek black design for a moment before the
streetlamps illuminated its occupants.
Two seconds. That was how long it took for the cars to pass. The black car
paused at the end of the road, then turned right. Jamie drove for perhaps five
seconds after that, then suddenly spun the car around, throwing all three of
his passengers to the side.
“Whoa! Whoa, what are you doing?!” Mouse shouted, clinging to the door as Jamie
sped down the road and dipped right, hoping to catch up to the other vehicle.
“That was him.” Jamie said, eyes wide and darting around until he spotted the
car just turning onto the highway, the same one Jamie had been on before, and
he pulled them on soon after.
“You're kidding me.” Nightlight grunted, clinging to the seats tighter to keep
from being jostled around. He glanced behind them, worried, and he pulled out
his phone again, “Shit, we lost Yeti...”
“It was Pitch.” Emma breathed, looking shaken up, “It had to be...”
“It was.” Jamie confirmed, his brows furrowed, “Where is he going? He said he
was going to stay all weekend!”
“Maybe he was lying?” Mouse suggested/
“No way, he wanted Jamie on his side, bad.” Nightlight pointed out, putting his
phone down again and adding, “Yeti should be catching up soon.”
“Then what is he doing?” Jamie blurted, gesturing to the car they were tailing,
albeit at a distance, “Maybe he saw the cop car Yeti was driving?”
“How could he? His house is in the middle of his neighborhood!” Mouse scoffed.
“We're being followed,” Emma mumbled, her brows furrowed.
“Good, Yeti caught up.” Nightlight said with a glance behind them.
“Can you see anyone else in the car? Maybe he's taking Jack somewhere?” Jamie
asked Emma, glancing her way, but her eyes were glued to the side-view mirror.
“That's not Yeti...” She mumbled next. Jamie looked behind them, but all he
could see were the headlights.
“Well if it's not Yeti then they're not important. Jamie, pull back, you're too
close.” Nightlight admonished, tugging at Jamie's shoulder. The brunet grunted
and the car drifted into the other lane, allowing Jamie enough space to slow
down.
“I'm going to lose him!” Jamie complained, watching with a racing heart as
Kozmotis' car became smaller the further it went.
“We're on a fucking freeway, you're not going to lose him.” Mouse snorted, but
he, too, was sitting forward, tense. The car that had been following them
caught up to them on their right, allowing Emma a chance to peer at the driver.
“It's a woman.” She said, and Nightlight huffed irritably and glanced behind
them again.
“There! Okay, Yeti's with us again. Tap your breaks twice.” He said, tugging at
Jamie's shoulder again until the brunet sighed and complied. Yeti responded
with a brief flicker of his high beams. The driver in the car beside them
glanced over, and Emma tensed up, then shook her head.
“What's the matter?” Jamie asked, glancing Emma's way, then glancing further,
only to gape, “Is that Anna?”
“Who the fuck is Anna?” Mouse huffed, looking to the car as well, and even he
seemed to freeze up with a gasp, except he threw himself back against
Nightlight, trying to hide himself from her.
“Why is she here?!” Jamie yelped, his heart pounding so fast he began to worry
he was going to end up having a heart attack.
“Who is she?” Nightlight demanded, putting a hand on Mouse's shoulder to keep
him steady as he leaned against him.
“Sh-she's a social worker from the same place Aster works at, but she didn't
have anything to do with Jack's kidnapping! I barely even know her, all I know
is that she and Aster are, like, cubicle neighbors.” Jamie blathered, shaking
his head quickly.
“Then why is she following Kozmotis?” Nightlight pressed, sounding a bit too
panicked for Jamie's liking.
“I don't know!”
Nightlight shook his head, a small bead of sweat rolling down the back of his
neck, and he scrambled for his phone, “Shit. Shit. This was just going to be a
small job... Just a little grab and run...”
“What are you doing?” Emma asked, slowly turning to look at Nightlight, her
brows furrowed and her eyes wide.
“I'm calling Tsar.” Emma's brows shot up and even Mouse sat up a little, though
he tried to keep out of view of Anna still driving alongside them.
“You can't call this off!” Emma urged, turning around further, “It's just some
chick, Nightlight! We can still do this!”
“Kozmotis was supposed to stay at his house! We were supposed to be done with
this job already! I'm calling Tsar. Now.” Nightlight argued, lifting the phone
to his ear as it rang. Emma grit her teeth, her upper lip twitching in rage.
Jamie thought for a moment that she was going to reach back there and strangle
him, but she didn't have to.
The moment Tsar's voice uttered a 'hello' through the line, Mouse yelped,
tugged the phone from Nightlight's hand, and began to roll down the window, all
the while saying into the mic, “Everything's fine, we're all fine, job's almost
done, bye!”
“Mouse no--!” Nightlight gasped, reaching forward just as the scrawny man
tossed the phone out of the window, the device shattering apart on the asphalt.
“Are you insane?!” Nightlight screeched, not even waiting for Mouse to roll the
window back up all the way before he was grabbing him by the front of his shirt
and shaking him, “We're out of our depth here!”
“Do you know what Manny will do to us if we fail this mission?!” Mouse shouted
back, his voice trembling, “I didn't go through initiation just to be thrown
out again, okay?!”
“What are you talking about?” Nightlight laughed out, though his mirth was
borne of growing anxiety.
“If this job goes sideways, we're out!” Mouse explained, gripping Nightlight's
hands still grasping his shirt, “If we don't get Jack back, Emma and I are back
on the streets!”
“Don't lie to me! He wouldn't do that!” Nightlight huffed, shaking Mouse for
good measure.
“He's not lying. Manny said it himself.” Emma backed Mouse up, and that froze
Nightlight.
“It's true. I was there...” Jamie sighed, squeezing the steering wheel once
more, and Nightlight let go of Mouse completely.
“He wouldn't do that.” Nightlight said again, shaking his head, “You're his
family! He wouldn't do that to family!”
“Well, that's what he told us.” Emma sniffed, reaching out to touch Mouse's
shoulder reassuringly.
“So we can't call this off.” Mouse added, sitting up a bit straighter though
his shoulders continued to tremble, “I can't be on the street again, man. I
sacrificed way too much, burned too many bridges to get into this fucking
gang.”
Nightlight let out a short breath, licking his lips as he thought. He glanced
forward, at Kozmotis' car that was still a good distance ahead of them, then
back towards Yeti, following them faithfully, unbeknownst to the turmoil going
on in their little car. Running a hand through his hair, Nightlight shook his
head, coming to a decision.
“Damn it, Tsar...” He whispered, looking down at his lap, his mind absolutely
spiraling with questions. But Manny couldn't have known the mission would go
bad. He wasn't a fortune teller...
Why he didn't tell Nightlight what was riding on tonight was a question to ask
him alone and in private, not one to stew in for the rest of the night. Sucking
up the worst of his insecurities and doubts, Nightlight resumed his role as the
leader of this ragtag group. Resolutely, he nodded, and said sternly, “Then we
move forward with this messed up plan. Our objective is still the same. Follow
Kozmotis, distract him and grab Jack. No murders, no cops, just grab and run.
Got it?”
“Got it.” Emma and Mouse responded, and Jamie a little belatedly. Nightlight
nodded again, confident once more, and he leaned forward in his seat to keep an
eye on Kozmotis' car himself.
“First thing's first...” Nightlight mumbled, his brow dipping low before he
turned his gaze on Anna, who continued to drive beside them, constantly
glancing towards their car in confusion, “We need to get rid of her.”
“Whoa, no, nuh-uh, nope.” Jamie immediately declined, putting a hand up in
refusal, “We are not killing Anna. She has nothing to do with this shit, okay?”
“She can't follow us, either.” Nightlight continued, looking back at Jamie, “If
she gets mixed up in all of this, it's just another loose end we'll have to tie
off anyways.”
“Let me handle it.” Mouse suddenly spoke up, pulling out his own cell phone and
dialing a number. Nightlight and Emma watched him in silence as he put a call
through, and moments later, a woman's voice came through the speaker.
“Perez! You better not be in that car there, young man!” Anna all but shrieked
into the phone.
“Mama, you have to go home!” Mouse said back into the phone, and Jamie nearly
swerved when both Emma and Nightlight shouted, “She's your mother?!”
“I swear to god, if you're doing what I think you're doing, I am going to hunt
you down and I will teach you a lesson you will never forget!” Anna threatened
through her teeth.
“Ma, no—Don't look at me like that, guys, she's not—Mama, just listen! You
don't know what you're getting into right now! Let us handle this!” Mouse
begged, glancing between his companions and the woman in the car, who had
pulled back enough to be able to glare at him from her side window.
“And you expect me to just let an eighteen-year-old kid do my job for me?!”
Anna yelled, making Mouse flinch. “No! You're not going! You turn that car
around right now and go home!”
“Damn it, woman, I'm trying to help you!” Mouse cried, exasperated, and Anna
laughed at him in disbelief.
“Woman?! Woman?! I am the very same 'woman' that dragged your sorry ass out of
a turf war and into a high-brow private school! I am the 'woman' who yanked you
out of a crack house on the verge of blowing itself to kingdom come and into a
safe, loving home that respected and cared for you! And how do you repay me? By
running off with that lovely couple's things and going straight back to the
streets! Now turn your little car around and go. Home.”
“Dude...” Jamie breathed, his eyes wide as he looked back at Mouse, who sat
with his mouth hanging open and his gaze teary.
“Shit! Cut her off, Kozmotis is getting off the freeway!” Nightlight suddenly
hissed, making Jamie's attention snap right back to the road in front of him.
He slammed on the gas, giving them enough of a kick to lurch them ahead of
Anna, and he used that momentum to swing right in front of her and onto the
exit, making the poor woman scream through the phone as she jerked her car
away.
Her car spun, the tires squealing loudly on the asphalt, but she came to a stop
without toppling. Mouse bit his lip and hung up after, his hands shaking and
his head ducked low. Yeti smoothly followed them, the distance he kept great
enough to keep him from pulling the same maneuver.
“Put your fog lights on.” Nightlight ordered.
“What? There aren't any street lights!” Jamie protested, but Emma reached over
and switched off his headlights for him, the dim glow of the fog lights only
illuminating a few yards ahead of them. Jamie cursed under his breath and
squinted as he continued to drive, his heart pounding in his chest.
“This isn't safe.... I'm gonna crash us if we keep going like this...” Jamie
grumbled, leaning forward, almost against the steering wheel as he strained to
see.
“It's fine. This doesn't look like a well-traversed road.” Nightlight mumbled,
watching the street as well, “Mouse, pull up GPS.”
Mouse lifted his phone, looking into it for only a moment before declaring, “I
don't have any signal here.”
“You're joking.” Nightlight grumped, turning to look at his companion. Mouse
merely shook his head. Nightlight sighed and rubbed at his temple.
“Just... keep driving.” He mumbled to Jamie, looking forward again. Jamie
sighed, but he had no other choice but to obey. The road was only two lanes
wide, and one of them was opposing. They could see the fading glow of Kozmotis'
car around the curves of the winding road, and that's what Jamie followed.
They drove for only five more minutes before they began to catch up to the glow
around the corner. Jamie sucked in his breath, fully expecting them to come up
to a house once they turned. This was it, he thought to himself. They were
going to find out where Kozmotis was going and, if things went well, finally
confront him and rescue Jack.
Except when they turned the corner, the light vanished. All that met them was
an open road, a straight line from the woods to a small city far in the
distance. No car was in sight, not even one going the opposite way. They were
alone on the road, and Jamie had to pull over and turn around to make sure he
didn't miss a turn-off.
“What the fuck?” Jamie blurted when he passed by a second time, looking
everywhere, even turning his headlights back on, but seeing nothing, “Where did
he...? We were following him, weren't we?”
“There has to be somewhere he ducked into.” Nightlight shook his head, rolling
down his window to peer out. They passed by Yeti, the man slowing down enough
to give them a curious look. Both cars pulled over, their passengers getting
out and meeting by the side of the road.
“What happened?” Yeti grunted, sticking his thumb into his belt where his gun
hung. He was dressed in full police attire, badge and all. The sight of him
made Jamie nervous, even though he knew he was on their side.
“We fucking lost him!” Mouse shouted, stomping a foot angrily. Emma began to
pace, thinking. Nightlight shook his head, stuffing his hands into his jacket
pockets.
“How can you lose him? This is a two-lane road!” Yeti huffed, disbelieving, and
Jamie immediately grew defensive.
“I-I don't know, okay? One moment he was ahead of us, then he turned the corner
and just.... vanished!” Jamie cried, splaying out his fingers into the air,
palms out.
“He didn't pass you?” Yeti asked next, Nightlight already shaking his head.
“You would have seen him if he did.” He mumbled, frowning when Emma walked away
from the group, stalking along the side of the road. So long as she stayed in
the car's headlights, though, Nightlight was fine with it. She probably needed
to cool off, anyways. Stressful moments like this tended to get to her.
“We have to do something.” Jamie sighed, shifting his weight on his feet, “We
can't just stand around here, someone's bound to pass by.”
“Jamie's right. But what is there to do?” Yeti sighed, looking to Nightlight
now, “Maybe we should call Manny...”
“No. We're still in this.” Nightlight responded immediately, putting a hand to
his chin as he thought, “There has to be a road that leads off of this one.
Hidden, maybe. Or unpaved.”
“Something like this?” Emma called out from a distance, grabbing everyone's
attention. Jamie turned to look at her, seeing her pushing aside some well-
placed shrubbery to expose a gravel path, just wide enough for a single car to
squeeze through. She looked up at them and shrugged a shoulder, then said, “I
mean, if I was a cocky bastard with too much money like him, I'd definitely
hide away in the middle of the woods.”
Jamie, immediately on board, nodded and got back in the car, starting her back
up. Nightlight scoffed, then rolled his eyes when Mouse immediately went back
to the vehicle, and he asked, “And what if this isn't it?”
“We have to try. Get in.” Jamie replied easily, tugging his door shut.
Nightlight shot Yeti an insufferable look, but the larger man merely rolled his
shoulders back and headed back towards his own car.
“You take the lead like before. I'll be right behind you.” He told them, his
brow furrowed. Nightlight pursed his lips, but he was down four to one in this
argument, so he got back in the car.
Jamie drove up to the road, allowing Emma back into the passenger's seat before
he pushed on through, the shrubs brushing noisily against the car doors as they
passed. Jamie kept the headlights on, the car rattling as they drove over the
rocky path. Yeti followed closely after him, and together they followed the
weave and bend of their trail.
They went slow, just in case Kozmotis spied them. They didn't want to give
themselves away now that they were this close. Even if he ended up with a head
start, what with his disappearing act, it was better to be safe than sorry.
That being said, it took them fifteen minutes to finally reach the mansion
tucked into the deepest part of the woods. They saw Kozmotis' car parked in the
driveway, so they pulled up behind it, just to keep him from escaping.
“Look!” Mouse gasped, pointing towards the front door. Looking over, they saw
Kozmotis pushing himself to his feet from the ground, stumbling towards the
door, then slipping inside. He didn't close the door behind him.
They got out of the car just as Yeti parked his. They met up once again, Yeti
looking over the mansion, impressed. “Where do we go from here?” Jamie asked,
looking at Nightlight. The man stood silently, thinking.
With a snap of his fingers, Nightlight looked back at Yeti and said, “Turn on
your sirens. We'll spook him out.”
Yeti, with a small smirk, nodded and headed back to his car.
-------------
Aster clung to Jack tightly, his heart pounding. Jack admitted to the murders,
his voice guilt-laden and teary, but he held no regrets. He told Aster as much,
telling him that if he had the choice, he would do it again.
But when Aster asked him, “Why did you do it?” Jack couldn't answer.
“Whenever I think too much about that night, my head starts to hurt and I get
sick. I... I don't remember what happened, what drove me to it. I just
remember... blood. Screaming. Fear and pain and... relief.” He mumbled, still
holding onto Aster with his face pressed against his chest. He refused to meet
Aster's eyes, afraid of what he might see. Aster didn't force him to, either.
He was too shaken by the truth to school his expressions into anything remotely
supportive.
Jack was innocent. That's what Aster still believed. That's what he'll continue
to believe, no matter what. A child didn't just murder their parents for no
reason. There had to have been something to cause this.
“Please don't hate me for this,” Jack whispered, one hand gripping the back of
Aster's shirt tighter, the other wrapped into a fist against his shoulder
blade. Aster ran a hand through Jack's hair to comfort him.
“I don't. I love you.” Aster told him with complete honesty. He could feel
Jack's body slump against him in relief. Good, he was calmer, “Now let me take
you home before Kozmotis wakes up.”
Jack frowned against Aster's chest and began to ask, “Wake up...?” When a
sharp, whining noise cut through the air. Jack immediately grew tense in
Aster's arms, but the man only let out a breath of relief.
The police siren got louder and Aster breathed out, “Good, they're here.”
At that, Jack tore away from Aster in one swift movement, brandishing a knife
he had been hiding behind Aster's back. The man blinked at the weapon, torn
between casual surprise and fear. Jack... wasn't seriously pointing that at
him, was he?
“What are you doing?” Aster asked first, genuinely confused what he should be
thinking. Looking into Jack's desperate, wide-eyed stare didn't make him feel
any better.
“You called the cops on me,” Jack whispered, sullen and afraid and heartbroken
all at once. Tears were welling in the corners of his eyes once again. Aster
realized his mistake.
“Shit, Jack, no--” Aster began to defend himself, taking a step forward to try
and move the knife away and hold his little lover, but Jack staggered away and
lifted the blade higher, pointing it right at Aster's throat.
“Don't touch me!” He shouted, taking another few steps back until he was
pressed against the wall, “You f-fucking liar!”
“They're not here for you!” Aster tried again, but Jack was already shaking his
head, not wanting to hear a word of it. The front doors downstairs clattered as
they were thrown open, bouncing off of the walls. Jack flinched and let out a
terrified shout.
“Upstairs!” Someone below shouted, and Aster felt his heart race. If the cops
came running in just to see Jack threatening Aster with a knife, they'll
immediately assume the worst.
“Jack put the knife down!” Aster begged through his teeth, trying to be quiet
and yet coming off as urgent, “Please, listen to me!”
“Stop! Shut up! Get away!” Jack shouted, his hands shaking as he swung the
knife in the air between them. Footsteps up the stairs startled Aster into
action, and he jolted forward on Jack's downswing, grabbing him by the wrist.
He tried to wrench the knife from his grip, but Jack fought him every step of
the way, yelling at him to let go.
It was like this that they were discovered, though not by the police. Instead,
two young adults burst into the scene, looking winded.
“Jack!” The first, taller brunet shouted, catching the fighting couple's
attention.
“Jamie?!” Aster blurted, recognizing the shorter individual. Jamie looked pale
at the sight of them, but the other person, the stranger who looked like the
very spitting image of Jack, ran forward.
“Get off of my brother!” They yelled, shoving Aster off of Jack with a
surprising amount of strength. Aster grunted as he struggled to retain his
balance. Jack's face absolutely lit up when he looked over this familiar
stranger, and he threw his arms around his doppelganger, letting out a wail as
they held each other.
When Aster regained his footing, Emma focused back on him again and she pulled
away from Jack, marching forward with a threat on her lips.
“If you hurt my brother, I swear to God--” She began, and Jamie sucked in a
breath, worry crossing over his face.
“Emma, stop!” Jamie begged, freezing Emma up in an instant.
A groan behind her made her turn, and her heart sank when she saw Jack slump
against the wall, a hand pressed to his head and the knife tight in his grip.
“No...” She whispered, her heart racing in her chest. She took a halting step
forward, her lips trembling as she whispered, “Jack...?”
The first jab was directed at her, but Emma jerked back just in time, the tip
of the knife slicing through the collar of her shirt. She collided with Aster,
the both of them hitting the wall.
“Jack, stop!” Aster gasped, unaware of the danger and effectively making
himself the next target.
“This is the police! We have the house surrounded! Come out with your hands
up!” A voice amplified through a loudspeaker suddenly demanded, fueling Emma's
panic.
“Shit! Run! Fucking run!” Emma shouted, pushing away from Aster and bolting
back towards Jamie, grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him along. Aster
stared after them in shock, another mistake, and the next moment he found
himself doubling over with a shout. Something smooth and burning hot slid out
of Aster's abdomen, lighting every nerve on fire. His eyes dropped to it,
watching in rapt horror as it slid from his body, the blood running paths along
the sharp edge and dripping to the floor from the tip. Aster tried to cover the
hole it left in him, but his fingers were trembling, and whenever he put
pressure, he could feel the blood gush out and slip down the crevices of his
palm.
His eyes lifted as he dropped to his knees, seeing Jack standing before him,
blood knife in hand and a blank, unfocused stare piercing through him. In the
background, Aster barely registered noises downstairs—shouting, more and more
sirens, someone screaming Jack's name.
“Why...?” Aster whispered, still in enough shock to only feel the throbbing of
his pulse expelling more blood from his body. Jack blinked, said nothing, and
raised the knife above his head, ready to deliver the final blow.
“Freeze!” Someone shouted, but neither of them moved to look at the intruder.
“Don't shoot!” Another voice, Emma, cried out.
“It's okay...” Aster said, meant not for the cops, but for Jack, who continued
to hold the knife at the ready, “They're not here for you.”
There was a commotion to Aster's right, shouting and wrestling and Jamie
shouting, “Just run! Go!” While a cop shouted out his Miranda Rights. The knife
began to drop and Aster braced himself for it. His eyes slid shut, mostly out
of the heaviness that began to urge them closed. In fact, he didn't even know
he was tipping over until he was hitting the floor.
“Get him in cuffs!” North's voice rang over the chaos,” Get those others
downstairs in the car and back to the station! We need medical attention up
here, now!”
A hand cradled Aster's head, lifting it from the floor. Aster tried to open his
eyes, but he felt way too weak to do it.
“Aster, come on, talk to me,” North demanded in a gentle voice, tapping the
man's cheek with the tips of his fingers to try and rouse him. Aster merely
groaned and turned his head away. The pain was beginning to come, but the blood
loss was catching up as well.
“Don't hurt him,” Aster begged, his voice pitiful and meek. He reached up to
grab a handful of North's shirt, “Something's wrong. S'not him.”
“Don't worry about it. We're getting you help now.” North reassured him, and
Aster fell unconscious right after.
When he came to, he was in a hospital room. His vision was blurry and his
eyelids felt as if they had been sealed shut. He could see a figure sitting in
the chair right of him, but when he opened his mouth to say something, all he
managed was a wheeze.
The figure shifted, looking up at him, and Aster was both disappointed and
relieved to realize it was Anna.
“My God, Aster,” she gasped, tossing aside the magazine she had been flipping
through in favor of going to Aster's bedside and kneeling beside it, “When they
pulled you out of that place on a stretcher, I thought---well, that doesn't
matter. I'm so glad you're awake, Aster...” she took his hand and pressed it
against her cheek, wet with tears. Aster let out a slow breath, taking a bit
longer to truly register her words. He still felt remarkably tired, though he
figured it was just the blood loss.
“Jack...?” He croaked out, his fingers twitching against her face in an attempt
to caress. She grimaced and lowered her gaze, more tears slipping down well-
worn paths along her cheek. Aster felt his heart shatter, already assuming the
worst. He tried to sit up, but the stab wound at his abdomen stung, the
stitches tugging and the gauze over it growing taut. Aster groaned in pain and
collapsed back, making Anna gasp and brush her hand against his forehead,
trying to soothe away his pain with gentle touches. He was trembling now, but
the burning at his side ebbed away.
“He's...” Anna whispered, but her voice broke before she could utter the next
word. A sob left her instead, and she dropped her head to his chest, crying
more.
The pain Aster felt from his wound was nothing compared to the hole that had
carved into his heart. He hadn't been prepared for this. He had been too
invested in Jack to lose him like this. He didn't want to believe it, but what
else could have happened? Jack had been swinging the knife around like a
maniac, and police weren't known for their patience. Anna's wailing into his
chest only made him hope that it had been quick for his lover, that he felt no
pain, and that whatever pain he might have gone through was invoked on Aster
tenfold. It would be his punishment, after all, Aster couldn't protect him in
the end.
All because he didn't take Kozmotis seriously. All because he allowed himself a
moment of doubt.
The door to his room opened and shut, and North walked into his field of
vision, looking apologetic. Guilty, even. He looked over the two of them, then
lowered his head and mumbled, “I... assume Miss Desai already told you.”
Aster looked up at him, wanting to feel anger and hate and rage, but all he
could respond with was a slight, understanding nod. North sniffed, cleared his
throat, and looked away again.
“He will only be allowed three visits a month, depending on his progress,”
North grumbled, and Aster's brow furrowed. Visits? Why would he have to be
allowed to visit Jack if he was...
“He's alive?!” Aster burst out, then immediately regretting it when he pulled
on his wound in his excitement. North extended a hand to hold him back against
the bed, his eyes wide at Aster's exclamation, “Jack's alive?!”
“W-wha—Of course he's alive!” North replied in shock, his brows raised high on
his head, but then he grew sullen once again and added, “Well... Relatively.”
“What does that mean?” Aster demanded, his voice strong despite how weak he
felt. But Jack was alive! Just knowing that was enough to give him a second
wind. His lover was alive!
“Whatever Kozmotis did to him, he won't snap out of it.” Anna explained this
time, lifting her head from Aster's chest, though she kept it down-turned to
hide her tear-ridden face, “He's been unresponsive to most everything. They
have to force feed him, Aster. It's like he's brain-dead.”
“She's right. The staff at the facility he's at aren't sure what he's going
through right now, but the most any of them have said is that it’s almost
like... hypnotism. Something was chosen to set him off, and now he's stuck.”
North mumbled, walking around the room to grab a box of tissues which he handed
off to Anna, who sniffled out a 'thanks' as she took them. She cleaned herself
up gracefully, though her red eyes threatened to continue spilling more tears.
“They're scrambling to find him a psychiatrist that will help.” Anna sighed,
getting up from Aster's bedside and crossing her arms across her chest,
“Everyone they've put on his case so far has stepped off for one reason or
another. None of them will give us a direct answer, too...”
“Is it Kozmotis?” Aster suggested, feeling a little uncomfortable being the
only one laying down while they stood over him, but he wasn't about to try and
prop himself up again. His abdomen throbbed just thinking about it.
“Couldn't be him directly. He's currently in custody,” North replied with a
slight smirk, though his eyes still looked haunted, “Him and Jamie, and whoever
Jamie had broken into his house with.”
Emma, Aster remembered, though not entirely too well. She looked like Jack,
sounded like Jack, and called Jack her brother, which Aster didn't find
surprising. They must be twins, though why Jack never mentioned her before,
Aster didn't know. He wanted to ask North, but he wasn't sure how without being
too direct.
“Who else?” He decided to ask instead, and North hummed and pulled out a
notepad he carried with him, flipping through pages of scribbled down notes
before settling on one page.
“Let's see... records pull up a Nicolas Lunde, but Jamie kept calling him
Nightlight. The kid won't say a word about anything, though. He's incredibly
tight-lipped. Didn't need much from him, after all we got from Kozmotis and
Jamie. The three of them are looking at a good amount of years in prison right
now. The trial's going to be in a week.” North read off, lowering the notepad
again, “There were two others, but they got out with Jamie's help.”
Aster nodded, his brows furrowed again, and he saw Anna cross, then uncross her
arms, fiddling instead with her shirt as she shuffled her feet. She glanced to
the chair she had been occupying, to the phone on the armrest, then sighed.
Aster cleared his throat and turned back to North.
“What was he doing there, anyway?” He asked next, and North rolled his eyes at
the question.
“He claims he was trying to get Jack back, something about making up for what
he's done, but I don't believe a second of it. That kid doesn't just step into
a pile of crap, he rolls around in it.” North snorted, walking away from Aster
and to the pitcher of water on the bedside table, pouring two glasses. He
handed one to Anna, then the other he helped Aster drink, much to his
embarrassment. But he had been thirsty, Aster realized, and he figured
accepting the help wasn't so bad if it meant his throat no longer felt like it
was grating against itself.
“His intentions were good, I guess.” Aster tried defending the kid, and North
scoffed and set the half-empty glass down.
“My question is, what were you doing there?” North asked him, sitting down in
the chair to Aster's left, looking at him with a serious expression, “I thought
I told you that we would handle this, Aster. To get a call from Miss Desai at
eleven o'clock at night about how she was tailing Pitchiner... I couldn't have
imagined to find you in the middle of it.”
Aster sniffed at that and glanced at Anna, who merely shrugged and nodded,
sinking back into her own seat and fiddling with her phone. “Might as well tell
the truth, Aster. We can't dig ourselves into a hole deeper than this.”
“True...” Aster muttered, looking down at the sheets covering him, then up at
North once again, “I thought if I broke into Kozmotis' house, I'd be able to
find something that will help you guys find Jack. But instead, I found him.”
Aster began, and North's brow furrowed.
“We had police stationed there every night!” North muttered, but Aster only
shrugged.
“When we got there, no one was out there. I thought you guys gave up on it...”
Aster mumbled then he resumed his retelling, “Kozmotis and I spoke at length. I
demanded to see Jack, and he told me about the Overland murders. He showed me a
file from the other police department working on the case... Did you know about
it?” He looked at North, who looked sheepish for a moment before he cleared his
throat.
“I may have been a little... headstrong in my youth.” North sighed, having
enough humility to admit it, “I turned down their help from the start of their
case.”
Aster hummed, nodding his head. Kozmotis implied as much. It was good to know
what was true and what wasn't. “Kozmotis wanted my help to coax Jack to confess
again, so I played the part and agreed to go along with him. He took me to that
place in the woods where he was hiding Jack. When the door was unlocked, I
grabbed a brick and smashed it over his head, knocking him out.”
Anna made a noise and North grimaced, reluctantly writing it down in his
notepad. Aster winced. He probably could have left that out, but it was too
late now.
“After that, I went inside and found Jack. Then Jamie and those other people
showed up and... you know the rest...” Aster finished lamely, his brow
furrowed. “I'd say I'm sorry for interfering but... Be honest here. You
wouldn't have gotten that far without me.”
North made a noise in the back of his throat, looking miffed, but he mumbled a
reluctant, “You certainly helped us get to him faster...”
“So can't you be lenient?” Anna spoke up, looking worried. She still cradled
her phone in her hand, though, but it seemed to have escaped her mind, “Aster
helped. He did what you wouldn't have been able to legally. Sure, he assaulted
someone but... couldn't it be considered self-defense?”
“Kozmotis didn't attack you. He'll say it came unprovoked. It couldn't work out
as self-defense.” North immediately said, shaking his head. Thinking about it,
though, North stroked ins short beard and admitted, “Though... you don't
exactly need to face jail time for a little bit of assault. I'll get you a good
lawyer, make sure you don't go behind bars, not even for a minute.”
Aster let out a breath in relief, then smiled and nodded, saying, “That sounds
good. I'd really like that.”
“The trial will be in a week, as I've said. You'll be expected to be there. The
doctors said you should be healed enough by then.”
Aster sighed this time and let his head fall back against his pillow, his hand
going over the stab wound in his abdomen, though he kept it over the blanket,
“When do I get to go home, anyway?”
“Tomorrow, actually. They're only keeping you overnight to make sure the
internal bleeding is all taken care of.” Anna piped up, smiling Aster's way,
“But with the medicine they're putting you on for the pain, I don't think you
should be driving yourself around much.”
Aster smirked at that and side-eyed Anna, mumbling coyly, “This sounds like
you're about to offer something I can't refuse.”
“Oh, you can refuse, but then you'll end up walking home. Plus, I've seen you
in pain, and I know how big of a baby you can be.” She giggled, smiling wide
when Aster blushed bright red. He glanced North's way, wide-eyed, but the man
merely looked concerned.
“Let me take care of you, okay? Just for a few days. Just until you don't have
to be on the medication.” Anna pleaded, a genuine look in her eyes. She scooted
to the edge of her chair, extending a hand, placing it on Aster's arm. The
bedridden man looked up at her, frowning. He hated being taken care of. It was
sort of why he ended their relationship. But if there was anyone he knew could
take care of him, it was going to be Anna.
With a reluctant sigh, Aster rolled his head back on his pillow and muttered.
“Okay, fine, since I can't really say no. Just... don't be too overbearing,
please?”
Anna giggled again, making no such promises. Aster grimaced at the smirk
tugging at her lips. Putting this discussion on the back burner, Aster looked
back and North and asked, “So... Jack.”
Immediately, the atmosphere in the room turned serious. Anna curled back up in
her seat and looked down at her phone while North ran a hand over his beard.
“When can I see him?” Aster asked, his brows dipping low. North sighed and
shook his head.
“I don't think it would be wise to go anytime soon. Wait until after the trial.
He's not in any state to see anyone right now. And judging by how it’s been
going the past two days, I don't think he'll be in a good state for a while.”
North admitted, crossing his arms and scowling, “But hey, if I hear any news,
you'll be the first to know, okay? That's the least I'll be able to do.”
Aster smiled weakly, worried about whatever it was Jack was going through, but
he nodded. He needed to get better himself if he was going to take care of Jack
again.
After a while, North got up from his chair and patted Aster's shoulder. “Get
some rest. We'll see you at the trial.”
When he was gone, Aster looked at Anna and said, “You don't have to stay
tonight. Just pick me up in the morning, okay?”
Anna snorted and said, “I'm not sleeping in this chair, but I'm definitely
bringing you dinner. Unless you want to eat tasteless porridge all night.” She
smirked at him and got up, her phone tight in her grip. Aster wanted to ask,
but she left a moment later, determined to bring him something delicious to
eat.
Spending the night at the hospital was something Aster never thought he would
have to do until he was much older. And getting stabbed was something that
hadn't even crossed his mind for possible things that would happen to him. The
hospital grew quieter in the night, but the sound of nurses and hospital beds
squeaking across the linoleum floor kept him awake most of the night, paired
with his thoughts about that night.
His mind was consumed with Jack. The way he looked dead to the world, the way
he sunk the knife in without a moment's hesitation. He had been prepared to
deliver the final blow, even, though he was stopped by police at the last
moment. Thinking back, Aster couldn't even decide what it was that set him off
like that. North said it was like hypnotism, but how could they have lived
together for months without Aster ever knowing? How had Jack lived for years
before without being triggered?
He thought back to Jack's twin. Emma, Jamie called her. She looked just like
Jack, right down to the expression on her face when Jack swung at her. She
bolted the moment sirens blared, but Aster could see the pain, the terror at
seeing Jack snapping. He wondered where she was now if she wasn't in custody.
The next morning, he was released to Anna's care. They slowly made their way to
her car, Aster laying down in the passenger's seat with a sigh and a hand to
his abdomen and Anna driving them to his apartment.
“It's up to you if you want me to stick around, I guess, but I really don't
think you should be alone.” Anna was saying as they made their way home, “I can
cook for you. I can change the bandages. I'll even make sure you take your
medication. I--”
“Anna,” Aster interrupted, a fond smile on his lips. She blinked and glanced
his way, tears in her eyes. She looked afraid for him, and it made Aster's
heartache. Smiling wider, he said to her, “I'd really appreciate the help.
Thank you.”
Relieved, she smiled back at him, content with knowing she wasn't pushing Aster
to receive help. They made it back to his apartment in good time, though the
trip up the stairs to the fifth floor was what made Aster nervous.
“Come on, old man, let's get you to bed,” Anna said with a smile, wrapping an
arm around Aster's after slinging a backpack over her shoulders—she had already
packed clothes for a few nights. Together, they slowly made their way up the
stairs, Anna allowing them a chance to catch their breaths every time Aster
felt pain.
They made it to the third floor before Aster had to stop, and he sat on the
steps with a sigh, his hand clutching the wound. Anna settled down next to him,
putting a hand on his back and rubbing.
“We're almost there.” She told him with a frown.
“I know, just... give me a minute.” He mumbled back, staring down at his shoes.
They sat there quietly, Anna still rubbing his back and Aster taking slow, deep
breaths.
“I'm sorry all of this had to happen.” Aster was suddenly saying, making Anna
perk up in surprise, “I didn't mean to rope you into this mess. I should have
told you the moment Kozmotis stepped in, but... I thought I could handle it on
my own. I thought I could handle Jack on my own.”
“You couldn't have known what kind of man he would turn out to be.” Anna
reassured him gently, “Besides, it wasn't just him. Jamie played a part in
this, too.”
Aster sighed, placing his head in one hand as he continued to think. “I
shouldn't have brought him home. He was fine where he was. He was... safe. From
Kozmotis.”
Anna stayed silent at that, watching Aster as he sulked. Her hand slowly came
to a stop on his back, but Aster didn't notice. Letting out a light breath
through her nose, Anna looked down the steps they had just walked up and said,
“You love Jack. I can see it, plain as day. And I think he loved you too,
Aster. Wherever he was before, even if he had been safe or not... having Jack
in your life was worth something. Wasn't it?”
It was. Aster knew it was. It meant so much to him, loving that man, having him
in his arms, holding his fragile trust to tenderly in his hands, in his heart.
Jack made his life so much better, but Aster wasn't sure if that was a two-way
street between them. He didn't know if what Jack felt for him was worth the
pain he was in now, was worth being kidnapped for and locked away in a mental
institution. Without Aster, Jack would still be sane. Without him, Jack would
still be on the street, hiding away in gas station bathrooms and making every
dollar stretch as far as he could.
“I met him at a gas station.” Aster mumbled, and he could feel Anna look at him
again, “He drilled a fucking hole in the bathroom stall and was selling himself
for sixty bucks.”
“Aster...” Anna whispered, looking surprised, but Aster closed his eyes and
continued.
“I knew it was bad. I knew it made me a disgusting sort of person. But I kept
coming back to him. I don't know why I couldn't just leave it alone, but...” He
sucked in a breath, cradling his head in both hands now, “I bought him. Over
and over again... and when that wasn't enough, I asked him to come home with
me. I made him my pet. And he played along. I was giving him a place to live
in, food on his plate, clothes on his back! All so that he'd... pretend to love
me.”
“Stop.” Anna breathed, sounding pained, and she gripped Aster's shoulder
tightly, “Don't say that. You've seen the way he looked at you. You've seen the
way he would cling and hold onto you. He loved you, Aster. He didn't pretend
to, he loved you. And you loved him, too. And if you hadn't taken him home, he
would have continued selling himself. He could have been on the brink of death
by the time you found him.”
“I was paying for him, Anna!” Aster argued, shaking his head, but Anna would
have none of it.
“You didn't kidnap him! You didn't abuse him! You didn't—you didn't rape him!”
Anna shouted, pushing at Aster's hands until he was looking at her, “You took
care of him. You loved him. You made sure he was okay. Hell, Aster, you took a
knife to the gut to try and save him! He could have said no at any time, he
could have refused your money and turned you away, and you would have gone if
he did, but he didn't.”
Aster didn't speak. Anna grit her teeth, then got up. She grabbed Aster's arm
and pulled him to his feet as well. She resumed their walk up the stairs, a
frown on her face, and as they made their way, Anna mumbled, “You're worse when
you sulk. It's so annoying.”
When they made it to the fifth flight of stairs, almost at the floor to Aster's
apartment, Anna stopped and declared, “No, you know what? You can take this
flight yourself. That's what you get for thinking so lowly of yourself and of
Jack's intentions!” And she stomped up the stairs with a huff, leaving behind a
tired Aster who rolled his eyes at her attitude.
“Are you serious?” He called out, gripping the railing tightly and slowly
making his way up, “I thought you were going to take care of me, not make me
walk up the stairs myself!” He whined, putting a hand to his side and groaning
in pain. “Anna!”
“Suck it up!” Anna called out, reaching Aster's door and putting and rustling
through her pockets until she found his key. She was about to unlock the door,
but she paused when she saw the lock broken. With a frown, she shouted down the
hall, “I thought I told you to replace the lock, you idiot! Someone's going to
break in!”
“I did!” Aster huffed, finally getting to the top of the stairs and doubling
over in exhaustion.
“No, you didn't! It's broken!” Anna pointed out, gesturing to the door. Aster's
brow furrowed and he looked up, slight panic in his eyes. Anna's anger died
down at the sight of him, and she looked back at the door.
“I did...” He said again, making his way to her side in record time. He twisted
the knob and felt his blood run cold when the door gave. With a breath, he
pushed it open, only to immediately recoil with a gasp.
One was sitting in his armchair. The other was laying sprawled out on his
couch, asleep. The one sitting stared at them with wide eyes, and with a
painfully familiar sheepish grin, said, “O-oh! Um... welcome home! I... Um...
hope you don't mind?”
She lifted a foot and kicked the sleeping intruder on the couch, stirring him
awake, and he bolted up with a snort before he looked over at the door. His tan
face went pale and his shoulders immediately rose to his ears.
“Perez!” Anna hissed out, both horrified and angry.
“Hi, mama...” Perez grumbled, looking to the floor.
“And Jack?!” Anna blurted again, making the twin bristle.
“Actually, it's Emma.” She said coldly, crossing her arms.
“What are you doing here?” Aster asked next before Anna could interrogate any
further. Emma laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck, and Perez curled
up further on the couch.
“Well... long story short.... We're hiding.” Emma said playfully, trying to
hide the worry in her eyes, “But you're a good guy, yeah? You wouldn't throw
your boyfriend's twin sister to the streets?”
Aster's brow twitched, then his upper lip, and for a moment Emma thought he was
just about to, but then he covered his face with his hand and took in a deep
breath.
“No. I wouldn't.” He groused, though he looked exceptionally pissed off about
it, “But you--” He pointed a finger at Perez, but this time Anna stepped in.
“Don't worry about him! I'll take get him out of your hair, just...” She
blushed and looked up at Aster, “Don't tell North. Please. If he knows where
they are, he'll arrest them!”
Aster grimaced, looking over Perez and Emma, then he shook his head and rolled
his eyes, “Jesus, Anna, who even is this kid?!”
“He was my first big case. I got him out of a really bad place and I... I just
feel responsible for him, okay? He's like a son to me.” Anna begged, putting a
hand on Aster's arm, “I'll get him out of your hair, I promise. Please,
Aster...”
Aster growled, running a hand over his face again, then shaking his head and
turning away for a moment before turning back. Pointing at Emma this time, he
demanded, “You are going to tell me everything! That's your price for staying
here, you got it? And if you put one toe out of line, I'll--” He groaned,
putting a hand on his wound, and Anna winced and let him lean on her.
“Scoot over, Perez, he needs to sit down,” Anna ordered, and Perez listened
quickly. He got up from the couch and stood beside Emma, who watched them with
a concerned frown.
“Jack got you good, huh?” She mumbled, trying to be understanding, but it only
made Aster angrier.
“Anna, just... take Perez and go.” Aster huffed out.
“What? But--”
“I can watch this guy, it's alright. I know how to treat a stab wound.” Emma
cut in with a wave of her hand, “Mouse, keep in touch, okay?”
“Yeah...” Perez sighed, looking up at Anna with a shameful expression. Anna,
still hesitant to leave, pulled Perez closer and chewed on her lip.
“Call me if you need anything, Aster. Okay? Please?” She begged, and Aster only
nodded, rubbing his forehead roughly.
They left moments after, the door sliding shut with a click.
“Oh, yeah, you might have to buy a new lock,” Emma mentioned nervously.
“I can buy one later.” Aster sighed, lifting his head to look at her, only to
get anxious and look away, “What the hell happened to Jack?”
Emma smiled, a sad, weak little thing, and she looked down at her lap with a
sigh before she mumbled, “I don't know. But I know it's Kozmotis' fault. And I
know it's happened before.”
Aster's eyes widened a fraction, and he guessed, “The murders?”
Emma nodded once, looking guilty, “It's the only explanation. Jack isn't a
killer. He's a sweet man. He was the loving one out of the two of us. The
brains. And now he's...” She frowned, then asked, “Where is he? They put him in
cuffs, but... did they really arrest him?”
“No. He's in an institution.” Aster sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose,
“He's the victim in this situation. For the rest of us, the trial is in a
week.”
“You're being tried?” Emma asked next, scooting forward in her seat and tilting
her head. Aster merely nodded, not wanting to get into it at the moment.
“Look, I'm tired, okay? I need to take my medicine and just... knock out for a
while. Just... make yourself at home.” He mumbled, getting up from the couch
with a wince and shuffling his way towards the bedroom. Emma frowned further,
flinching when Aster threw the door shut behind him.
Emma slumped back in her chair, wondering for a long while why it all turned
out this way. Here she was, begging for sanctuary from a man she didn't even
know, and she was almost certain that the only reason he was doing this for her
was because she was Jack's sister.
Meanwhile, in his bedroom, Aster took his medication, changed, and laid down on
the bed. It felt much too empty. Knowing there was someone in his living room
made him anxious, but there was nothing else he could do about it. He promised
to protect Jack. If he couldn't do that, the least he could do was protect his
family when they needed it.
But the fact that she looked so much like Jack made his heart ache. What he
wouldn't give to just have Jack back home and in his arms, and his identical
twin sister was just on the other side of that door.
Rolling onto his side, Aster buried his head into his pillow. Too much had
happened those past few days. Too much had been lost. Giving up felt like the
next best option. What else was he able to do at this point, anyways? All that
was left was waiting for Jack to get better and do what he can to keep Kozmotis
in jail after these trials.
He closed his eyes and hoped that Jack would get better quickly. Whoever his
next doctor would be, Aster could only hope it was someone who knew what they
were doing.
--------------
The director sighed as he read through the most recent resignation letter. The
doctor had been on the case for only two days before they stepped down, and
they were starting to run out of local psychiatrists to put on his case. As it
is, the resident psychiatrists working in his institution were trading him off,
but this lack of stability wasn't good for his type. He needed a constant in
his life when nothing else was.
A knock at his door brought him out of his own mind. As the door opened, he
slid the resignation letter into his desk drawer, raising a brow when the
secretary placed a single envelope down.
“This just came in, doctor.” He said, looking just as confused as the director
felt. The director slowly picked up the envelope, seeing it was addressed
directly to him. The envelope was stone gray in color, the script on the front
elegant and well-practiced. Flipping it over, he found a silver wax seal,
impressed with a similarly elegant letter B.
He glanced up at his secretary, who gave a single shrug, then looked back down
at the envelope and popped it open. Slipping out a similarly stone gray letter,
he unfolded it and began to read.
“What's it for?” His secretary asked nosily, but the director merely hummed as
he finished reading the letter.
“It looks like we have an interested psychiatrist for our most recent patient.”
He mumbled, his brow furrowing, “But I'm not familiar with this doctor... Are
you familiar with a Doctor Black?”
The secretary made a face as he thought, but he shook his head no in the end,
and the director hummed.
“It says he'll be here by tomorrow. Timely. I guess we'll meet him then.” The
director sighed, putting the letter down without much else. He wasn't really
relieved, not in the slightest. With the frequency the previous handful of
doctors had been resigning from Jack's case, the director figured this newest
individual was just a little overzealous.
Another series of knocks on his door had even his secretary turning in
surprise, and without the director calling out to let them in, the door swung
open, admitting two women, one carrying a stylish black leather suitcase, the
other merely with her phone out, disregarding the director's irritated grunt.
“Excuse me, but who are you?” He demanded, standing from his desk. The young
woman with the briefcase, a short thing with a bob haircut stepped forward and
set the briefcase on the director's desk, popping it open and pulling out a
thick pile of paperwork. Meanwhile, the other woman, a tall creature with her
black hair pulled back into a neat bun, sat gracefully in the vacated seat at
the other side of the desk.
“I believe you've received my letter,” The older woman said, lowering her phone
to regard the director with a blank look, “I understand I'm a little early, so
I'll forgive you for not having these documents completed already. But, as it
is, I prefer to get started on my work promptly. So if you could,” She gestured
to the forms her assistant was holding out, and the director blinked at her.
“You're... Doctor Black?” He asked slowly, and the woman only blinked at him,
judging him quietly.
“Oh!” The director's secretary spoke up, snapping his fingers, “You're the
famous psychiatrist from Europe! Doctor Seraphina Pitchiner-Black! You
specialize in hypnotherapy, don't you?”
The woman sneered at that, and stiffly brushed off her skirt as she corrected
him, “It's just Black, now. I would much rather not be associated with the
other, more infamous Doctor Pitchiner-Black. I'm sure you understand.” She
sighed, leaning back in her seat, “But that is neither here nor there. If you
could sign those papers so I may get to work?”
The director frowned deeply, taking the paper from her assistant, but he merely
placed them onto his desk, “I don't think you understand the weight of this
case, Miss Black.”
“I don't think you understand the fact that I have my Ph.D. I'm not a little
girl, Director. And I'm certainly not Miss.” She remarked coldly, her upper lip
twitching.
Taking a deep breath, Doctor Black daintily crossed her legs, placing her hands
regally in her lap, and she offered them a smile. Her assistant smiled as well,
though hers was more excited than the Doctor's.
“Pardon me, I'm rather antsy from the flight.” Doctor Black said gently,
tilting her head, “I'm not a patient woman, you see. And I expect to get what I
desire. Besides, you're running out of options, Director. I heard your last,
promising psychiatrist on this case has already resigned.” Her smile widened,
turning more feral than delightful, “As did the rest of them. Who else do you
have to give this case to?”
“I know plenty of well-known and very talented doctors.” The director grumped,
looking more and more pissed off, and his scowl only deepened when Doctor Black
laughed, right in his face.
“Something tells me none of those doctors will stay for very long,” Her
assistant remarked slyly, glancing at Doctor Black secretively.
Calming down from her mirth, Doctor Black sat upright once more and said
gently, “I don't want to waste your time, Director. And I don't want you to
waste mine. Sign the papers. Let me work on this case. And if I don't have a
result for you by the end of next month, I'll let you bring someone else on the
case.”
The director fumed quietly, his face a dull red. His jaw tensed but he took the
forms in hand with a tight grip and stiffly pulled out a pen from the pencil
cup on his desk. Doctor Black watched him sign over the case, her eyes
sparkling, and the moment he dotted the last 'I', she stood from her seat and
snatched the forms from him.
“Much appreciated. I would prefer it if your people didn't touch my patient
from this point on. My assistant here will act as his nurse and will give him
his meals. I'm sure you understand.” She stuffed the forms into the briefcase,
and the assistant closed it with a click before lifting it from the director's
desk.
“Now if you will excuse me,” She sighed, opening the door to his office and
stepping out, calling out over her shoulder, “I have a patient to cure.”
Her assistant scurried along behind her, pushing the door shut with a grin,
then she looked up at the doctor, admiration in her eyes, and asked, “So?”
“Hm?” Doctor Black hummed, walking forward at a quick pace, intent on meeting
her patient once and for all.
“Why this man? The moment you heard about the kidnapping on the news, you flew
out here. It's not because Doctor Pitchiner was involved, was it?” She asked,
truly curious, but Doctor Black scowled anyways.
“If I ever decide to go anywhere because of that man, I will truly have gone
insane.” She remarked firstly, then went back to answer her assistant's
question, “As for Jack...” She slowed her pace, her eyes growing distant,
“There were many things in my life that I regret. Leaving my beloved daughter
in the hands of my ex-husband was one of them. Not knowing what became of her
so many years ago...” She stepped into the elevator, her assistant close by,
and they headed to the next level down, where Jack was being kept.
“The last news I heard from her was that she was pregnant.” Doctor Black
continued, her brow furrowed, “And yet I still stayed away.”
“And this man?” Her assistant pressed, just as the elevator doors opened.
Doctor Black took in a deep breath, then continued forward, a frown on her
lips. She reached Jack's door, unlocked it, then pushed it open. On the bed he
lay, wrapped tightly in a straight-jacket, and he jerked at the noise,
squirming violently until he was on his feet. Jack charged forward, snarling
like some animal, but he was held to the back wall by a heavy chain and was
jerked back. Doctor Black stayed in the doorway, an unimpressed sneer on her
face. Her assistant had squealed in fear, stumbling back for a moment, but when
she saw he was restrained, she nervously resumed her place beside the Doctor.
With a deep sigh, Doctor Black said with a touch of sadness, “He is my
grandson. Another of my kin who I left to the hands of a man I knew was cruel.
And now I must fix what Kozmotis has done.”
She stepped into the room, despite her assistant's protests. Jack tugged
against his jacket, deliriously screaming at her, but she stepped towards him.
“Do you really think you can cure him?” Her assistant asked nervously, staying
by the door in case he charged again.
“Oh, please. Snapping him out of this state will be the easiest part of his
therapy.” Doctor Black remarked, putting a hand on his cheek, then tugging it
away when he tried to bite her. She stepped closer to him, forcing him back
against the wall, “It's making sure he doesn't snap again that will be
difficult... If I knew his trigger, I could work to disarm it. But without
knowing that...” She sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder now, despite his
squirming.
“Wouldn't Kozmotis know it?” Her assistant suggested.
Doctor Black fell silent at that, staring at Jack's blank gaze as she
considered it. He would, but would he ever reveal it to her? There was only one
way to find out, truthfully, but it was something she never wanted to do.
But now would be her best chance, with him currently imprisoned. Who knew if he
would be found guilty after his trial in a week. If she let this chance slide,
she may never be able to confront him about it.
Pulling away from Jack, Doctor Black muttered, “Then I will go confront him.
And you will stay here and play nurse.” She looked at her assistant, who turned
pale at the thought, but she didn't refuse.
“Just come back quickly.” The assistant begged, handing off the briefcase to
Doctor Black, then stepping aside to let her out of the room before shutting
the door behind them. “That director didn't look happy in the slightest when
you took this case.”
“He won't touch you, my dear.” Doctor Black smirked, heading for the elevator
once more so that she could leave. “I'll be back in a few days. We will see
what my dear ex-husband wishes to reveal.
She left her assistant in the institution, entrusting her with the safety of
Jack for now. She may have been flighty when she was younger, but now she knew
she had to make up for her mistakes. If curing Jack is what she is tasked with
to make amends, then it will be done. Even if it meant confronting the very man
she grew to hate in person.
 
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