The Chapterhouse: Part Five
Jul. 8th, 2009 05:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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"You fucking fool!" Jensen examined Jared’s wounds carefully, his tone seething with barely controlled anger. "Not to mention getting into it with a Pedagogue. You could be set-apart for this! And then what?"
Jared shrugged sullenly, “I don’t know. I guess they’ll match you with a new postulant. Isn’t that what you want? Someone who’s compliant and unabrasive? Some one who’s not a ‘fucking fool’?”
“No!” Jensen exploded, raising his voice at last. He ran a hand back and forth along the short spikes of his hair distractedly and took a deep breath, obviously attempting to regain his composure. “Look Padalecki, the placement of a postulant with his, or her, Pedagogue is very specific. The oracle doesn’t just pair up two people because they happen to be available. There are certain characteristics which must align exactly.”
Crossing his arms over his chest Jared asked, “So, what does that mean?”
“It means I’ve been waiting for a postulant for years.” Jensen’s voice was an irritated growl. “It means after Chris—after my previous postulant died, I never thought I’d find anyone again I could feel—who was a match for me. I was stunned when Preceptor Morgan told me they had a postulant for me.”
“You didn’t seem too happy about it at the time,” Jared pointed out, remembering Jensen’s stand-offish demeanor and acerbic remarks during his first days.
Jensen exhaled and his shoulders sagged slightly, “It’s been a long time. And you're so similar to Chr—my last postulant. It was disconcerting to have someone who so reminded me of him.” Jensen’s eyes met Jared’s and it was difficult to read the emotion there, “But I know now that you—you’re different. You’re more thoughtful than he was and less cocky, more eager to please. I knew from the first day on the holofield, I was looking at the best Arm to come to the Chapterhouse in a long time.”
It was the first time Jensen had given him any kind of compliment and Jared was uncertain how to react. Not only had Jensen opened up, even if only minutely about Jared’s predecessor, but he’d shown some true, unguarded emotions.
“If that’s how you feel, then why are you just telling me now? Why have you been so…hard on me?” Jared was genuinely curious now.
“Because I still miss Christian. We were together for two years and I was to present him at the Convocation for Knighting. And then…” Jensen trailed off, “I’m just trying to prevent the past from reoccurring. I won’t have another postulant die in my care.” Jensen’s eyes met Jared’s again and the familiar hard tone was back as he enunciated each word, “It will not happen.”
“Master,” it was the first time Jared had said it that he didn’t resent it, “I’m sorry.” He felt suddenly abashed. He’d never seen Jensen without his duel shields of stoicism and sarcasm. The naked pain evident in Jensen’s face touched something inside him. But as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared.
“It doesn’t matter now, Posey. Ancient history. Come on, let’s get you to the healer.” He jerked his head in the direction of the exit and turned to go without watching to see if Jared would comply.
Thoughtful, Jared followed. But he couldn’t help wondering what exactly had happened to this mysterious Christian from Jensen’s past and if Jensen would ever trust him enough to tell him.
********************
Jensen wasn’t sure how it started, but somehow his intended punishment of Jared for his flagrant disregard for his own safety as well as the rules of the Chapterhouse had shifted out of his control and taken on a life of its own.
Jensen spent the entire week following Jared’s fist-fight with Carlson avoiding his postulant. He took his meals back in his old spot, with pedagogues still awaiting poseys. It was strange to be surrounded by people who exhibited table manners when they ate. He'd become accustomed to deciphering conversations communicated through half-chewed food, and to protecting his own tray from large, yet nimble fingers that snatched food in the blink of an eye.
He scheduled Jared for individual holosimulator usage and avoided the area range at all costs when he was there. He practiced and trained alone, just like before Jared had arrived. But his Adamen postures had shifted to accomodate a partner and he kept losing his focus and balance reaching for a strong grip or a long, chiseled torso that was no longer there. When he finished his piss-poor excuse for training, he cleansed in the communal lav unit attached to the refectory. Jensen brought himself off exactly once in the cleansing unit, after a particularly frustrating session in the holosim where every movement of his body betrayed him, instinctively seeking the tall muscled frame of his postulant with each breath, each stretch, each movement. Angry with himself, his body and most of all with Jared, he'd wrapped his fingers around his shaft, working his cock with almost punishing strokes, pinching the glans between thumb and forefinger on each downward slide. When he shuddered his release onto the floor his mind flashed with Jared's gold-tinged eyes glinting at him, Jared's wide smile and loud laugh ringing in his ears, Jared's name catching in his throat. After that, he didn't touch himself again, not trusting his own fortitude.
He came back to their cell with his hair wet every night, clearly letting Jared know he would be cleansing on his own. There were no healing sessions between them in the evenings, no good-natured ribbing about lack of skill, the ravages of old age, or even gentle admonitions of care. After the first few nights when Jensen hadn't responded to his touch--and damned if that wasn't the hardest part of Jensen's day--Jared didn’t press him on it, or instigate them himself after that. Going further, Jensen had completely stopped all forms of communication with his postulant beyond those he deemed absolutely necessary, and what’s more, they didn’t touch one another at all, not even in the sleeping unit. Not touching Jared at night was almost unbearable, stopping himself from drawing Jared close, hearing his beating heart, feeling the rise and fall of his chest under his palms, sharing the easy laconic warmth of sleep.
But Jared never mentioned his sudden newfound independence from his Pedagogue. In fact, Jared never mentioned anything at all beyond cursory statements about his schedule or whether he could use the comm cube. At first, Jensen told himself he didn’t care. This was what Jared had wanted in the first place, wasn’t it? To be left alone, for Jensen to stop touching him all the time. He was probably grateful. Unfortunately, it made Jensen feel as if he were the one being punished.
Even though he tried to convince himself he was doing the right thing, letting his postulant know his behavior had been unacceptable, all he could think about was how much he missed those large, warm hands on his body. He missed their talks about nothing, he missed the room-filling laughter of his younger partner, he missed the very presence of Jared, even when they were doing nothing more than meditating or using the comm cube.
Which is why he was going out tonight. Let Jared stew alone in their cell. Leave him to his own devices, and try to work this burning anxious need from his own blood, perhaps even drown it….
********************
Jared wasn’t inured to Jensen’s sudden demeanor shift. Indeed, he felt it keenly: when they went to sleep Jensen turned away from Jared instead of holding him close in the spoon position they’d both become accustomed to. It felt strange to be floating alone, unteatherd to another, no warmth beyond the ambient temperature of the unit, no sound but the beating of his own heart. He began to wish Jensen would show some sign of being affected. Some sign of being disturbed or bothered by it as much as Jared was. He even started having dreams—nightmares, really—that he couldn’t remember when he woke up. He just knew he woke in a cold sweat and with a hard-on so intense it refused to go down.
Although Jared had thought this was what he wanted--in fact what he had initially said he wanted--the sudden lack of physical contact left Jared feeling as if he were going on a starvation diet after eating every night at a grand buffet. If someone would have told him he would not only get used to having Jensen touch him all the time, but would actually miss it when it stopped, Jared would have told them they were crazy. But now he found himself watching other paired Brothers out of the corner of his eye, noticing the casual way they patted and hugged each other and missing it, missing it so damn much….It wasn’t like he loved the bowlegged, lush-lipped Pedagogue who had been his partner for less than a month. Or anyway, not like he loved Sandy back home. If Jared was honest though, he knew his thoughts rarely turned to her, and when he took himself in hand these past few days, it wasn’t her pretty, doe-eyed face in his mind. As much as he tried to avoid it, it was always Jensen’s face and body popped into his mind’s eye at the moment of orgasm, always his deep voice telling Jared to come echoing in his memory.
It wasn’t until the end of the week when Jared finally decided he had to do something—when he acknowledged to himself that he couldn’t stand it anymore. He would apologize, he decided as he lathered up under the hot steam in the cleansing unit. He would tell Jensen he had been out of line, he shouldn’t have gone after Carlson the way he had.
I was scared, he would admit to the older man. I felt like I had no control over anything. And then, before Jensen could say anything, he would quickly add, But I understand now it’s not about me controlling anything. It’s about us. It’s about our connection to one another. So if we can just go back to the way we were.... Then Jensen would agree and possibly say something about making up for lost time. He would close the gap between them, bend Jared’s head down to his, taking his mouth in a slow, hot kiss while those deft, knowing hands stroked Jared’s cock until he came.
Or, I could tell him I was and am sorry, so sorry I and want to make it up to him, Jared thought eagerly. I’ll tell him I’ll do anything...anything. I’ll even take him in my mouth again if he wants me to. Just the thought of being on his knees again, having Jensen’s cock in his mouth again, made Jared’s body flush with heat. He could almost taste the salty, bitter full flavor of Jensen’s come, could almost smell his musk as Jensen fucked deeply into his mouth…
Shuddering with desire, his soapy hand went to his hardening shaft, stroking firmly in the same rhythm Jensen had always used on him. He closed his eyes tightly and imagined the hand caressing him was Jensen’s, imagined a deep, raspy voice in his ear telling him it was all right, that he should let go and come…
Jared heard a resounding thud from outside the cleansing unit followed by a crash and then a long broken stream of cursing. His hand dropped away and he quickly rinsed and turned off the unit, palming the door open.
Outside, Rosenbaum, Welling and Collins were leaning in various postures against the cell walls, breathing heavily and looking a bizarre combination of haggard and exhilarated.
Jensen was sprawled across the floor, one arm flung sideways, the other draped across his chest, wrapped in what appeared to be a bloodied towel. His legs were also askew, his right leg angled so unnaturally it appeared dislocated.
Stunned, Jared dropped to his Pedagogue’s side, “Jensen, my Gods. What happened to you?” His eyes ran frantically over Jensen’s body attempting to determine how best to help him. Then he addressed the others, “What happened to him?”
Without opening his eyes Jensen mumbled, “What do you care?” While Rosenbaum huffed, “Ask him.”
Bewildered, Jared said, “What?”
This time, Jensen slowly raised long lashes and fixed on him, enunciating slowly, “What. Do. You. Care?”
Sitting back on his heels, Jared stared at Jensen.
“Alright boys, that’s our cue to leave.” Jared’s head swiveled to see Welling pushing Rosenbaum and Collins out the door.
“But…” His gaze swung back to Jensen. Jensen’s eyes had closed again, but his mouth was still moving, inaudible words tumbling from his full lips. Jared reached out to him, but stilled his hand when Jensen spoke again.
“You haven’t touched me in a week Posey. Why start now?” His words were slow and muddled, but there was an underlying hurt there which made Jared sigh.
The rebuttal to Jensen's accusation, It's you who hasn't touched me, was on his tongue, but he dropped it, knowing a fight wasn't going to make the situation between them any better. Clearly, Jensen was drunk, but it still didn’t explain the bloody towel, or the reason for the foray into excess. Jared sat down on the warm stone floor, hips next to Jensen’s abdomen and stretched his legs out in front of him and reached determinedly for Jensen’s wounded hand. Jensen tried to pull it away from his inspection, but Jared gripped his elbow tightly and prevented him from moving. He unwrapped the makeshift bandage to reveal a hand crisscrossed with thin, puckered lines of skin, newly healed in the infirmary by the look of it. He looked directly at Jensen for the first time in almost a week, searching for an answer in the gold-flecked green eyes staring back at him.
“What did you do?” The question came from Jared’s lips in a quaver as he looked from the wounded arm in his hands to the face of the man sprawled before him.
Jensen didn’t answer. Instead, he closed his eyes and turned his head away, taking several shuddering breaths. When he turned back, his eyes were glossy with unshed tears, and they locked on to Jared’s own—looking for something. Needing something only Jared could give.
"I was looking for something," he made a bitter noise before continuing, "I didn't find it."
Still trying to make sense of things, Jared said, "What were you looking for?"
Barely audible, Jensen breathed, “Don’t you know?”
Reaching out with his other hand, Jared cupped the side of Jensen’s face with his hand and let his thumb trace over the soft skin of Jensen’s cheek. If Jensen had jerked away or done anything other than what he did--close his eyes and move into the caress--Jared wouldn't have said what came next: “I know that…I…I…feel for you. I'd call it...lust, but it's more than that. It's...I care about you.”
Jensen closed his eyes and let out a long shuddering breath as Jared continued, “Jensen, I’m sorry. For everything.” Tentatively, he slid down and laid next to Jensen, before easing Jensen’s prone form into his arms, uncertain as to how Jensen would respond. For a moment the pedagogue just laid there, unresponsive in his arms. And then he pulled Jared in, holding him close and hugging him tight, pressing his long, hard body against Jared’s. His broad shoulders shook as he struggled with some emotion too difficult to name.
Jared hugged him back without reservation, not caring about his nearly naked state, enjoying the feel of Jensen’s flaccid shaft against his thigh. This was where he belonged, he realized--in Jensen’s arms. He wasn’t sure about what would happen next in their relationship but at least he knew he wanted to be in the relationship—wanted to acknowledge that it was more than just a partnership of convenience. He wanted to let himself feel—to admit the emotions he had for the handsome, freckled man in his arms without shame. He wanted to leave his boundaries behind, as much as he could, anyway, and just hold Jensen and be held by him. He wanted to care for him and let himself be cared for and if the rest of the world didn’t like it, then the rest of the world could go fuck itself.
Of course there was no way to say all those things, so Jared didn’t even try. Instead he let his hands roam over Jensen’s firm, muscular body. He tried to let his emotion flow through his fingers and palms as he rubbed soothing circles across Jensen’s back, down and over the curve of his ass, down the backs of his thighs and back up again. There was nothing soft about Jensen, except maybe his full, ripe mouth. But Jared didn’t care anymore. He didn’t want soft and delicate and feminine anymore—didn’t want Sandy back home. He wanted the feel of a hard chest pressed against his back, the sound of a deep voice in his ear. He wanted Jensen.
“Come on,” he said softly, pulling Jensen up with him as he pushed away from the floor.
When they were both standing, Jared let his towel drop to the floor and raised his hands to Jensen's suit, drawing it from his body as Jensen had done for him on so many nights. As he did he let himself look at the man before him. Really look; with no shame or shyness or pretense. It's not as if Jared's never seen Jensen's body, but he's never allowed himself to look at it with lover's eyes; let himself appreciate the masculine form of another man, let his desire out into the open. Nearly, every inch of Jensen was sprinkled with a light dusting of freckles, more where the sun's rays hit him on a regular basis, fewer where clothing kept him guarded from the light. His muscled thighs bowed gently away from one another, each covered with a down of glinting ginger hair down to his ankles. His arms and chest weren't as defined as Jared's own, but there was no mistaking the dip and curve of muscle underneath smooth skin. His areola were pale coral, nipples small nubs at the edge of his pectorals, and Jared's gaze moved down to follow the dusky pathway of hair leading to Jensen's phallus, resting on low-slung, full testicles, round head slightly darker than the rest of his shaft.
After undressing him, Jared gently guided Jensen with a hand at the small of his back to the sleeping unit. Once inside, they floated for a moment, arms loosely around each other and then Jared dared to pull his partner’s head up and place a soft kiss on Jensen’s sensual lips.
“Posey…Jared…” The deep voice was tentative as Jensen pulled gently away from the kiss. “Don’t.”
“Please.” Jared felt his heart drumming in his chest. What if Jensen had changed his mind? What if he didn’t feel the way he had or Jared thought he had, anyway, before this last bleak week had taken place?
“No.” Jensen’s voice was gentle but firm. “No, I don’t want to do anything. Not tonight. I can’t stand another week like this one. I can’t be rejected. Not right now.”
“There won’t be any more weeks like this,” Jared promised. “Damn it, Jensen, I said I’m sorry. Just…just let me touch you. I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you too, Jared.” Jensen’s voice was gruff but he pulled Jared close again and kissed him long and deeply on the mouth. Jared felt tension building in his gut and his cock was suddenly rock-hard and throbbing against his partner’s thigh.
“I missed your hands on me,” he admitted breathlessly. “Missed the way you touch me.”
“I’m afraid I’m in no shape to jerk you off tonight.” Jensen motioned with his wounded hand.
“But I can do this.” Pushing Jared gently away and up, he let himself drift down slightly before leaning over Jared and taking his hard shaft in his unhurt hand. “I’m at your service,” he whispered and then, with a long, slow, deliberate motion he took Jared’s cock all the way into his mouth.
Jared moaned as the hot, wet warmth enveloped him completely. He closed his eyes and ran his hands over Jensen’s hair--Gods, it felt so good, so right… But then the delicious sensation was suddenly gone.
“No, Jared.” Jensen’s voice was low but firm. “Open your eyes. I want you to watch while I do this. Watch while I suck you and swallow your come.”
“Jensen.” His name escaped, broken and thready, full of emotion as Jared nodded. He opened his eyes and looked down, catching his breath at the erotic sight before him.
Jensen cupped Jared’s hard shaft loosely in his hand. His damp hair in small spikes, his lips red and spit-slick from sucking Jared’s cock. His eyes were dilated, the black of his pupils almost swallowing the golden green of his irises as he met Jared’s gaze and held it. He stroked once from root to tip, eliciting a soft moan from Jared’s lips and then bent down and lapped gently at the head of Jared’s cock, licking away the beads of precome with obvious pleasure.
“Please…” Jared’s voice was breathless but he had to say this, had to let Jensen know how he felt, what he wanted. “Please, Master…Jensen. Please, I want…I want to taste you too.”
“Do you really?” Jensen gave him a measuring look from his piercing eyes.
Jared nodded, swallowing hard.
“Then let me hear you say it. Tell me exactly what you want to do to me,” Jensen demanded softly.
“I want…” Jared swallowed again. “I want to suck your cock,” he said clearly and distinctly.
Jensen smiled and laid another soft, open-mouthed kiss on the head of Jared’s cock and Jared moaned. “Then let’s do it together.” Gracefully he bent and rolled himself until his head was facing the floor and his feet were nearly level with Jared’s head. His mouth was inches from Jared’s cock, and he motioned for Jared to move in towards him.
Feeling suddenly shy, Jared did and he could feel the heat radiating from the hard cock thrusting up from between Jensen’s thighs and once again he could smell his salty musk. His mouth watered and his own cock hardened even further in Jensen’s warm grip.
“Like this,” Jensen instructed softly. Leaning forward, he sucked Jared’s cock deep into his mouth again, making Jared gasp and buck against him. Helios that felt good! Jared focused on the thick, gently bobbing member in front of him. Gripping it loosely in his fist, he leaned forward and lapped the head, tasting the salty, bitter flavor of his partner on his tongue before he inhaled the length of Jensen’s cock deep into his mouth and sucked.
Jared didn’t know how long they took, sucking licking and exploring each other that night. He only knew it was soothing and exhilarating at the same time. And when he felt Jensen spurt between his lips, filling his mouth with come, he sucked the head of his cock eagerly and allowed Jensen’s orgasm to trigger his own. He could feel Jensen swallowing him down, taking his prick and his seed down his throat with obvious pleasure, stroking Jared’s balls lightly to get more, to be sure he had gotten everything.
Afterward, he held Jensen’s softened cock between his lips, still sucking gently, loving the feel of his partner in his mouth when he was soft and vulnerable. He occasionally lapped at Jensen’s heavy sac, taking each of his balls carefully into his mouth for a long suck until Jared could feel Jensen shudder. Finally, Jensen placed a hand on Jared’s outer thigh and tucked his legs in, swinging himself back upright. “That was good,” Jensen murmured, winding his arms around Jared’s waist and pulling him close.
“More than good. Amazing.” Jared pressed a searching kiss to Jensen’s lips, sharing his taste with Jensen. Jensen returned it eagerly, exploring Jared’s mouth, giving his own flavor back with his tongue. Finally, he broke the kiss and for the first time in a week, both slept soundly.
********************
Jensen entered Preceptor Morgan’s chambers apprehensively. He’d only been called in twice before. Once was to discuss Christian and the situation surrounding his death, and once was to discuss what turned out to be Jared.
He knocked on the only wood door in the whole Chapterhouse and pushed against its solid weight when Preceptor Morgan said, “Enter!”
Morgan was sitting at his desk using a knowledge cube as his fingers flew through the air, searching and shuffling and organizing the information the cube was giving. Without looking away from his task he said, “Help yourself to some tea, Jensen. I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Jensen saw the antique teapot on the sideboard and although he didn’t really want a cup, he knew it would be rude to refuse the Preceptor’s offer. He poured some of the frothy brew and added a dollop of sweet to it before seating himself in the chair before Morgan’s desk.
A few spans went by until at last, Preceptor Morgan stopped the cube, pushed it aside and folded his hands on his desk, looking intently at Jensen. Jensen resisted the urge to squirm under his Preceptor’s gaze, and tried to quell the rising flush of his body.
“I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s about your Postulant.” Morgan was trying to be diplomatic. Jensen was acutely familiar with his Preceptor’s speech patterns and this wasn’t just a friendly chat.
“What about Padalecki, sir?” Jensen riffled through his thoughts searching for any recent incidents that might be inappropriate or sub-par, but found none. Jared had been progressing well, he wasn’t shrinking from Jensen or any of the other Brothers lately and his focus and physicality were finally coming up to par.
“While I’m pleased with the progress you’ve made thus far, it’s clear Brother Padalecki has reached a kind of, “ Morgan broke off, searching for the right word while still keeping his gaze focused on Jensen, “plateau in his training. He’s capable of so much more. His gift was assessed as one of the strongest to ever come through the Chapterhouse in many years. But right now, he’s stalled out.”
The Preceptor moved to get his own cup of tea, giving Jensen a few spans to process what the Preceptor was really saying to him, and prepared himself for the inevitable question sure to follow.
Instead of returning to his desk, Morgan sat in the chair next to Jensen, steaming carafe of tea in his hand and asked, “Have you engaged in intercourse with him?”
Inhaling slowly, Jensen replied, “No, Preceptor, I have not.”
“Would you care to discuss why?” Morgan sipped his tea as he waited for Jensen’s answer.
Jensen thought about it. How much did he want to tell Morgan? The bond between himself and Jeffrey had changed substantially once he was elevated to Preceptor, but there was nothing that could change their shared history. Jeffrey would know he was lying or holding something back, even if as Preceptor he’d be obliged to behave otherwise. Jensen decided to go with the truth.
“He’s not ready. He’s only just come to accept my simple caresses and kisses in the simulator and on the holofield without reservation. We’ve made some progress in,” Jensen really didn’t want to discuss his and Jared’s sexual relations with his former Pedagogue, but clearly this was not the time for modesty, “oral pleasure. But he’s still anxious about the whole thing. I’m afraid of pushing him too far, too fast.”
Preceptor Morgan inclined his head in understanding. “You’ve always been a soft touch Jensen.” For a second, Jensen felt the emotion from years past stirring in him at hearing his name from Jeffrey’s lips again. Morgan’s eyes softened and his hand reached out to grip Jensen’s own. “I recognize that your natural impulse here is the correct one. Unfortunately, with the way things have been going in the battles on the terrestrial plane, I don’t think we can allow him the further luxury of time.”
Morgan set his cup down on the desk and inhaled deeply, staring at a spot somewhere behind Jensen, as if steeling himself for something unpleasant. “I’ve recently become aware of some disturbing news, Jensen. Someone in the Chapterhouse has been dabbling in the forbidden gift.”
Jensen started. The admission was last thing he had expected. There were clear and inviolate rules about the forbidden gift. Bevians simply didn’t break rules set out by their God. They just…didn’t. Jensen’s voice was stilted as he asked, “How do you…who said…what proof…” he trailed off as the import of the transgression sunk in.
Morgan’s eyes snapped back to Jensen’s face and his implacable façade of Preceptor was back once more. “It’s not your place to ask questions in this matter Brother Ackles. Suffice it to say, I have my sources. What you need to know is that I have reason to believe that whoever it is will not wait much longer before showing their hand, and we must be ready.”
Morgan picked up his cup again and took a long swallow of his tea before leveling his gaze at Jensen, “Do you understand what I’m telling you Brother Ackles?”
Jensen hesitated only a moment before answering, “Yes, Preceptor Morgan. I understand.”
They sat in silence and finished their tea.
********************
Part 6
"You fucking fool!" Jensen examined Jared’s wounds carefully, his tone seething with barely controlled anger. "Not to mention getting into it with a Pedagogue. You could be set-apart for this! And then what?"
Jared shrugged sullenly, “I don’t know. I guess they’ll match you with a new postulant. Isn’t that what you want? Someone who’s compliant and unabrasive? Some one who’s not a ‘fucking fool’?”
“No!” Jensen exploded, raising his voice at last. He ran a hand back and forth along the short spikes of his hair distractedly and took a deep breath, obviously attempting to regain his composure. “Look Padalecki, the placement of a postulant with his, or her, Pedagogue is very specific. The oracle doesn’t just pair up two people because they happen to be available. There are certain characteristics which must align exactly.”
Crossing his arms over his chest Jared asked, “So, what does that mean?”
“It means I’ve been waiting for a postulant for years.” Jensen’s voice was an irritated growl. “It means after Chris—after my previous postulant died, I never thought I’d find anyone again I could feel—who was a match for me. I was stunned when Preceptor Morgan told me they had a postulant for me.”
“You didn’t seem too happy about it at the time,” Jared pointed out, remembering Jensen’s stand-offish demeanor and acerbic remarks during his first days.
Jensen exhaled and his shoulders sagged slightly, “It’s been a long time. And you're so similar to Chr—my last postulant. It was disconcerting to have someone who so reminded me of him.” Jensen’s eyes met Jared’s and it was difficult to read the emotion there, “But I know now that you—you’re different. You’re more thoughtful than he was and less cocky, more eager to please. I knew from the first day on the holofield, I was looking at the best Arm to come to the Chapterhouse in a long time.”
It was the first time Jensen had given him any kind of compliment and Jared was uncertain how to react. Not only had Jensen opened up, even if only minutely about Jared’s predecessor, but he’d shown some true, unguarded emotions.
“If that’s how you feel, then why are you just telling me now? Why have you been so…hard on me?” Jared was genuinely curious now.
“Because I still miss Christian. We were together for two years and I was to present him at the Convocation for Knighting. And then…” Jensen trailed off, “I’m just trying to prevent the past from reoccurring. I won’t have another postulant die in my care.” Jensen’s eyes met Jared’s again and the familiar hard tone was back as he enunciated each word, “It will not happen.”
“Master,” it was the first time Jared had said it that he didn’t resent it, “I’m sorry.” He felt suddenly abashed. He’d never seen Jensen without his duel shields of stoicism and sarcasm. The naked pain evident in Jensen’s face touched something inside him. But as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared.
“It doesn’t matter now, Posey. Ancient history. Come on, let’s get you to the healer.” He jerked his head in the direction of the exit and turned to go without watching to see if Jared would comply.
Thoughtful, Jared followed. But he couldn’t help wondering what exactly had happened to this mysterious Christian from Jensen’s past and if Jensen would ever trust him enough to tell him.
Jensen wasn’t sure how it started, but somehow his intended punishment of Jared for his flagrant disregard for his own safety as well as the rules of the Chapterhouse had shifted out of his control and taken on a life of its own.
Jensen spent the entire week following Jared’s fist-fight with Carlson avoiding his postulant. He took his meals back in his old spot, with pedagogues still awaiting poseys. It was strange to be surrounded by people who exhibited table manners when they ate. He'd become accustomed to deciphering conversations communicated through half-chewed food, and to protecting his own tray from large, yet nimble fingers that snatched food in the blink of an eye.
He scheduled Jared for individual holosimulator usage and avoided the area range at all costs when he was there. He practiced and trained alone, just like before Jared had arrived. But his Adamen postures had shifted to accomodate a partner and he kept losing his focus and balance reaching for a strong grip or a long, chiseled torso that was no longer there. When he finished his piss-poor excuse for training, he cleansed in the communal lav unit attached to the refectory. Jensen brought himself off exactly once in the cleansing unit, after a particularly frustrating session in the holosim where every movement of his body betrayed him, instinctively seeking the tall muscled frame of his postulant with each breath, each stretch, each movement. Angry with himself, his body and most of all with Jared, he'd wrapped his fingers around his shaft, working his cock with almost punishing strokes, pinching the glans between thumb and forefinger on each downward slide. When he shuddered his release onto the floor his mind flashed with Jared's gold-tinged eyes glinting at him, Jared's wide smile and loud laugh ringing in his ears, Jared's name catching in his throat. After that, he didn't touch himself again, not trusting his own fortitude.
He came back to their cell with his hair wet every night, clearly letting Jared know he would be cleansing on his own. There were no healing sessions between them in the evenings, no good-natured ribbing about lack of skill, the ravages of old age, or even gentle admonitions of care. After the first few nights when Jensen hadn't responded to his touch--and damned if that wasn't the hardest part of Jensen's day--Jared didn’t press him on it, or instigate them himself after that. Going further, Jensen had completely stopped all forms of communication with his postulant beyond those he deemed absolutely necessary, and what’s more, they didn’t touch one another at all, not even in the sleeping unit. Not touching Jared at night was almost unbearable, stopping himself from drawing Jared close, hearing his beating heart, feeling the rise and fall of his chest under his palms, sharing the easy laconic warmth of sleep.
But Jared never mentioned his sudden newfound independence from his Pedagogue. In fact, Jared never mentioned anything at all beyond cursory statements about his schedule or whether he could use the comm cube. At first, Jensen told himself he didn’t care. This was what Jared had wanted in the first place, wasn’t it? To be left alone, for Jensen to stop touching him all the time. He was probably grateful. Unfortunately, it made Jensen feel as if he were the one being punished.
Even though he tried to convince himself he was doing the right thing, letting his postulant know his behavior had been unacceptable, all he could think about was how much he missed those large, warm hands on his body. He missed their talks about nothing, he missed the room-filling laughter of his younger partner, he missed the very presence of Jared, even when they were doing nothing more than meditating or using the comm cube.
Which is why he was going out tonight. Let Jared stew alone in their cell. Leave him to his own devices, and try to work this burning anxious need from his own blood, perhaps even drown it….
Jared wasn’t inured to Jensen’s sudden demeanor shift. Indeed, he felt it keenly: when they went to sleep Jensen turned away from Jared instead of holding him close in the spoon position they’d both become accustomed to. It felt strange to be floating alone, unteatherd to another, no warmth beyond the ambient temperature of the unit, no sound but the beating of his own heart. He began to wish Jensen would show some sign of being affected. Some sign of being disturbed or bothered by it as much as Jared was. He even started having dreams—nightmares, really—that he couldn’t remember when he woke up. He just knew he woke in a cold sweat and with a hard-on so intense it refused to go down.
Although Jared had thought this was what he wanted--in fact what he had initially said he wanted--the sudden lack of physical contact left Jared feeling as if he were going on a starvation diet after eating every night at a grand buffet. If someone would have told him he would not only get used to having Jensen touch him all the time, but would actually miss it when it stopped, Jared would have told them they were crazy. But now he found himself watching other paired Brothers out of the corner of his eye, noticing the casual way they patted and hugged each other and missing it, missing it so damn much….It wasn’t like he loved the bowlegged, lush-lipped Pedagogue who had been his partner for less than a month. Or anyway, not like he loved Sandy back home. If Jared was honest though, he knew his thoughts rarely turned to her, and when he took himself in hand these past few days, it wasn’t her pretty, doe-eyed face in his mind. As much as he tried to avoid it, it was always Jensen’s face and body popped into his mind’s eye at the moment of orgasm, always his deep voice telling Jared to come echoing in his memory.
It wasn’t until the end of the week when Jared finally decided he had to do something—when he acknowledged to himself that he couldn’t stand it anymore. He would apologize, he decided as he lathered up under the hot steam in the cleansing unit. He would tell Jensen he had been out of line, he shouldn’t have gone after Carlson the way he had.
I was scared, he would admit to the older man. I felt like I had no control over anything. And then, before Jensen could say anything, he would quickly add, But I understand now it’s not about me controlling anything. It’s about us. It’s about our connection to one another. So if we can just go back to the way we were.... Then Jensen would agree and possibly say something about making up for lost time. He would close the gap between them, bend Jared’s head down to his, taking his mouth in a slow, hot kiss while those deft, knowing hands stroked Jared’s cock until he came.
Or, I could tell him I was and am sorry, so sorry I and want to make it up to him, Jared thought eagerly. I’ll tell him I’ll do anything...anything. I’ll even take him in my mouth again if he wants me to. Just the thought of being on his knees again, having Jensen’s cock in his mouth again, made Jared’s body flush with heat. He could almost taste the salty, bitter full flavor of Jensen’s come, could almost smell his musk as Jensen fucked deeply into his mouth…
Shuddering with desire, his soapy hand went to his hardening shaft, stroking firmly in the same rhythm Jensen had always used on him. He closed his eyes tightly and imagined the hand caressing him was Jensen’s, imagined a deep, raspy voice in his ear telling him it was all right, that he should let go and come…
Jared heard a resounding thud from outside the cleansing unit followed by a crash and then a long broken stream of cursing. His hand dropped away and he quickly rinsed and turned off the unit, palming the door open.
Outside, Rosenbaum, Welling and Collins were leaning in various postures against the cell walls, breathing heavily and looking a bizarre combination of haggard and exhilarated.
Jensen was sprawled across the floor, one arm flung sideways, the other draped across his chest, wrapped in what appeared to be a bloodied towel. His legs were also askew, his right leg angled so unnaturally it appeared dislocated.
Stunned, Jared dropped to his Pedagogue’s side, “Jensen, my Gods. What happened to you?” His eyes ran frantically over Jensen’s body attempting to determine how best to help him. Then he addressed the others, “What happened to him?”
Without opening his eyes Jensen mumbled, “What do you care?” While Rosenbaum huffed, “Ask him.”
Bewildered, Jared said, “What?”
This time, Jensen slowly raised long lashes and fixed on him, enunciating slowly, “What. Do. You. Care?”
Sitting back on his heels, Jared stared at Jensen.
“Alright boys, that’s our cue to leave.” Jared’s head swiveled to see Welling pushing Rosenbaum and Collins out the door.
“But…” His gaze swung back to Jensen. Jensen’s eyes had closed again, but his mouth was still moving, inaudible words tumbling from his full lips. Jared reached out to him, but stilled his hand when Jensen spoke again.
“You haven’t touched me in a week Posey. Why start now?” His words were slow and muddled, but there was an underlying hurt there which made Jared sigh.
The rebuttal to Jensen's accusation, It's you who hasn't touched me, was on his tongue, but he dropped it, knowing a fight wasn't going to make the situation between them any better. Clearly, Jensen was drunk, but it still didn’t explain the bloody towel, or the reason for the foray into excess. Jared sat down on the warm stone floor, hips next to Jensen’s abdomen and stretched his legs out in front of him and reached determinedly for Jensen’s wounded hand. Jensen tried to pull it away from his inspection, but Jared gripped his elbow tightly and prevented him from moving. He unwrapped the makeshift bandage to reveal a hand crisscrossed with thin, puckered lines of skin, newly healed in the infirmary by the look of it. He looked directly at Jensen for the first time in almost a week, searching for an answer in the gold-flecked green eyes staring back at him.
“What did you do?” The question came from Jared’s lips in a quaver as he looked from the wounded arm in his hands to the face of the man sprawled before him.
Jensen didn’t answer. Instead, he closed his eyes and turned his head away, taking several shuddering breaths. When he turned back, his eyes were glossy with unshed tears, and they locked on to Jared’s own—looking for something. Needing something only Jared could give.
"I was looking for something," he made a bitter noise before continuing, "I didn't find it."
Still trying to make sense of things, Jared said, "What were you looking for?"
Barely audible, Jensen breathed, “Don’t you know?”
Reaching out with his other hand, Jared cupped the side of Jensen’s face with his hand and let his thumb trace over the soft skin of Jensen’s cheek. If Jensen had jerked away or done anything other than what he did--close his eyes and move into the caress--Jared wouldn't have said what came next: “I know that…I…I…feel for you. I'd call it...lust, but it's more than that. It's...I care about you.”
Jensen closed his eyes and let out a long shuddering breath as Jared continued, “Jensen, I’m sorry. For everything.” Tentatively, he slid down and laid next to Jensen, before easing Jensen’s prone form into his arms, uncertain as to how Jensen would respond. For a moment the pedagogue just laid there, unresponsive in his arms. And then he pulled Jared in, holding him close and hugging him tight, pressing his long, hard body against Jared’s. His broad shoulders shook as he struggled with some emotion too difficult to name.
Jared hugged him back without reservation, not caring about his nearly naked state, enjoying the feel of Jensen’s flaccid shaft against his thigh. This was where he belonged, he realized--in Jensen’s arms. He wasn’t sure about what would happen next in their relationship but at least he knew he wanted to be in the relationship—wanted to acknowledge that it was more than just a partnership of convenience. He wanted to let himself feel—to admit the emotions he had for the handsome, freckled man in his arms without shame. He wanted to leave his boundaries behind, as much as he could, anyway, and just hold Jensen and be held by him. He wanted to care for him and let himself be cared for and if the rest of the world didn’t like it, then the rest of the world could go fuck itself.
Of course there was no way to say all those things, so Jared didn’t even try. Instead he let his hands roam over Jensen’s firm, muscular body. He tried to let his emotion flow through his fingers and palms as he rubbed soothing circles across Jensen’s back, down and over the curve of his ass, down the backs of his thighs and back up again. There was nothing soft about Jensen, except maybe his full, ripe mouth. But Jared didn’t care anymore. He didn’t want soft and delicate and feminine anymore—didn’t want Sandy back home. He wanted the feel of a hard chest pressed against his back, the sound of a deep voice in his ear. He wanted Jensen.
“Come on,” he said softly, pulling Jensen up with him as he pushed away from the floor.
When they were both standing, Jared let his towel drop to the floor and raised his hands to Jensen's suit, drawing it from his body as Jensen had done for him on so many nights. As he did he let himself look at the man before him. Really look; with no shame or shyness or pretense. It's not as if Jared's never seen Jensen's body, but he's never allowed himself to look at it with lover's eyes; let himself appreciate the masculine form of another man, let his desire out into the open. Nearly, every inch of Jensen was sprinkled with a light dusting of freckles, more where the sun's rays hit him on a regular basis, fewer where clothing kept him guarded from the light. His muscled thighs bowed gently away from one another, each covered with a down of glinting ginger hair down to his ankles. His arms and chest weren't as defined as Jared's own, but there was no mistaking the dip and curve of muscle underneath smooth skin. His areola were pale coral, nipples small nubs at the edge of his pectorals, and Jared's gaze moved down to follow the dusky pathway of hair leading to Jensen's phallus, resting on low-slung, full testicles, round head slightly darker than the rest of his shaft.
After undressing him, Jared gently guided Jensen with a hand at the small of his back to the sleeping unit. Once inside, they floated for a moment, arms loosely around each other and then Jared dared to pull his partner’s head up and place a soft kiss on Jensen’s sensual lips.
“Posey…Jared…” The deep voice was tentative as Jensen pulled gently away from the kiss. “Don’t.”
“Please.” Jared felt his heart drumming in his chest. What if Jensen had changed his mind? What if he didn’t feel the way he had or Jared thought he had, anyway, before this last bleak week had taken place?
“No.” Jensen’s voice was gentle but firm. “No, I don’t want to do anything. Not tonight. I can’t stand another week like this one. I can’t be rejected. Not right now.”
“There won’t be any more weeks like this,” Jared promised. “Damn it, Jensen, I said I’m sorry. Just…just let me touch you. I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you too, Jared.” Jensen’s voice was gruff but he pulled Jared close again and kissed him long and deeply on the mouth. Jared felt tension building in his gut and his cock was suddenly rock-hard and throbbing against his partner’s thigh.
“I missed your hands on me,” he admitted breathlessly. “Missed the way you touch me.”
“I’m afraid I’m in no shape to jerk you off tonight.” Jensen motioned with his wounded hand.
“But I can do this.” Pushing Jared gently away and up, he let himself drift down slightly before leaning over Jared and taking his hard shaft in his unhurt hand. “I’m at your service,” he whispered and then, with a long, slow, deliberate motion he took Jared’s cock all the way into his mouth.
Jared moaned as the hot, wet warmth enveloped him completely. He closed his eyes and ran his hands over Jensen’s hair--Gods, it felt so good, so right… But then the delicious sensation was suddenly gone.
“No, Jared.” Jensen’s voice was low but firm. “Open your eyes. I want you to watch while I do this. Watch while I suck you and swallow your come.”
“Jensen.” His name escaped, broken and thready, full of emotion as Jared nodded. He opened his eyes and looked down, catching his breath at the erotic sight before him.
Jensen cupped Jared’s hard shaft loosely in his hand. His damp hair in small spikes, his lips red and spit-slick from sucking Jared’s cock. His eyes were dilated, the black of his pupils almost swallowing the golden green of his irises as he met Jared’s gaze and held it. He stroked once from root to tip, eliciting a soft moan from Jared’s lips and then bent down and lapped gently at the head of Jared’s cock, licking away the beads of precome with obvious pleasure.
“Please…” Jared’s voice was breathless but he had to say this, had to let Jensen know how he felt, what he wanted. “Please, Master…Jensen. Please, I want…I want to taste you too.”
“Do you really?” Jensen gave him a measuring look from his piercing eyes.
Jared nodded, swallowing hard.
“Then let me hear you say it. Tell me exactly what you want to do to me,” Jensen demanded softly.
“I want…” Jared swallowed again. “I want to suck your cock,” he said clearly and distinctly.
Jensen smiled and laid another soft, open-mouthed kiss on the head of Jared’s cock and Jared moaned. “Then let’s do it together.” Gracefully he bent and rolled himself until his head was facing the floor and his feet were nearly level with Jared’s head. His mouth was inches from Jared’s cock, and he motioned for Jared to move in towards him.
Feeling suddenly shy, Jared did and he could feel the heat radiating from the hard cock thrusting up from between Jensen’s thighs and once again he could smell his salty musk. His mouth watered and his own cock hardened even further in Jensen’s warm grip.
“Like this,” Jensen instructed softly. Leaning forward, he sucked Jared’s cock deep into his mouth again, making Jared gasp and buck against him. Helios that felt good! Jared focused on the thick, gently bobbing member in front of him. Gripping it loosely in his fist, he leaned forward and lapped the head, tasting the salty, bitter flavor of his partner on his tongue before he inhaled the length of Jensen’s cock deep into his mouth and sucked.
Jared didn’t know how long they took, sucking licking and exploring each other that night. He only knew it was soothing and exhilarating at the same time. And when he felt Jensen spurt between his lips, filling his mouth with come, he sucked the head of his cock eagerly and allowed Jensen’s orgasm to trigger his own. He could feel Jensen swallowing him down, taking his prick and his seed down his throat with obvious pleasure, stroking Jared’s balls lightly to get more, to be sure he had gotten everything.
Afterward, he held Jensen’s softened cock between his lips, still sucking gently, loving the feel of his partner in his mouth when he was soft and vulnerable. He occasionally lapped at Jensen’s heavy sac, taking each of his balls carefully into his mouth for a long suck until Jared could feel Jensen shudder. Finally, Jensen placed a hand on Jared’s outer thigh and tucked his legs in, swinging himself back upright. “That was good,” Jensen murmured, winding his arms around Jared’s waist and pulling him close.
“More than good. Amazing.” Jared pressed a searching kiss to Jensen’s lips, sharing his taste with Jensen. Jensen returned it eagerly, exploring Jared’s mouth, giving his own flavor back with his tongue. Finally, he broke the kiss and for the first time in a week, both slept soundly.
Jensen entered Preceptor Morgan’s chambers apprehensively. He’d only been called in twice before. Once was to discuss Christian and the situation surrounding his death, and once was to discuss what turned out to be Jared.
He knocked on the only wood door in the whole Chapterhouse and pushed against its solid weight when Preceptor Morgan said, “Enter!”
Morgan was sitting at his desk using a knowledge cube as his fingers flew through the air, searching and shuffling and organizing the information the cube was giving. Without looking away from his task he said, “Help yourself to some tea, Jensen. I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Jensen saw the antique teapot on the sideboard and although he didn’t really want a cup, he knew it would be rude to refuse the Preceptor’s offer. He poured some of the frothy brew and added a dollop of sweet to it before seating himself in the chair before Morgan’s desk.
A few spans went by until at last, Preceptor Morgan stopped the cube, pushed it aside and folded his hands on his desk, looking intently at Jensen. Jensen resisted the urge to squirm under his Preceptor’s gaze, and tried to quell the rising flush of his body.
“I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s about your Postulant.” Morgan was trying to be diplomatic. Jensen was acutely familiar with his Preceptor’s speech patterns and this wasn’t just a friendly chat.
“What about Padalecki, sir?” Jensen riffled through his thoughts searching for any recent incidents that might be inappropriate or sub-par, but found none. Jared had been progressing well, he wasn’t shrinking from Jensen or any of the other Brothers lately and his focus and physicality were finally coming up to par.
“While I’m pleased with the progress you’ve made thus far, it’s clear Brother Padalecki has reached a kind of, “ Morgan broke off, searching for the right word while still keeping his gaze focused on Jensen, “plateau in his training. He’s capable of so much more. His gift was assessed as one of the strongest to ever come through the Chapterhouse in many years. But right now, he’s stalled out.”
The Preceptor moved to get his own cup of tea, giving Jensen a few spans to process what the Preceptor was really saying to him, and prepared himself for the inevitable question sure to follow.
Instead of returning to his desk, Morgan sat in the chair next to Jensen, steaming carafe of tea in his hand and asked, “Have you engaged in intercourse with him?”
Inhaling slowly, Jensen replied, “No, Preceptor, I have not.”
“Would you care to discuss why?” Morgan sipped his tea as he waited for Jensen’s answer.
Jensen thought about it. How much did he want to tell Morgan? The bond between himself and Jeffrey had changed substantially once he was elevated to Preceptor, but there was nothing that could change their shared history. Jeffrey would know he was lying or holding something back, even if as Preceptor he’d be obliged to behave otherwise. Jensen decided to go with the truth.
“He’s not ready. He’s only just come to accept my simple caresses and kisses in the simulator and on the holofield without reservation. We’ve made some progress in,” Jensen really didn’t want to discuss his and Jared’s sexual relations with his former Pedagogue, but clearly this was not the time for modesty, “oral pleasure. But he’s still anxious about the whole thing. I’m afraid of pushing him too far, too fast.”
Preceptor Morgan inclined his head in understanding. “You’ve always been a soft touch Jensen.” For a second, Jensen felt the emotion from years past stirring in him at hearing his name from Jeffrey’s lips again. Morgan’s eyes softened and his hand reached out to grip Jensen’s own. “I recognize that your natural impulse here is the correct one. Unfortunately, with the way things have been going in the battles on the terrestrial plane, I don’t think we can allow him the further luxury of time.”
Morgan set his cup down on the desk and inhaled deeply, staring at a spot somewhere behind Jensen, as if steeling himself for something unpleasant. “I’ve recently become aware of some disturbing news, Jensen. Someone in the Chapterhouse has been dabbling in the forbidden gift.”
Jensen started. The admission was last thing he had expected. There were clear and inviolate rules about the forbidden gift. Bevians simply didn’t break rules set out by their God. They just…didn’t. Jensen’s voice was stilted as he asked, “How do you…who said…what proof…” he trailed off as the import of the transgression sunk in.
Morgan’s eyes snapped back to Jensen’s face and his implacable façade of Preceptor was back once more. “It’s not your place to ask questions in this matter Brother Ackles. Suffice it to say, I have my sources. What you need to know is that I have reason to believe that whoever it is will not wait much longer before showing their hand, and we must be ready.”
Morgan picked up his cup again and took a long swallow of his tea before leveling his gaze at Jensen, “Do you understand what I’m telling you Brother Ackles?”
Jensen hesitated only a moment before answering, “Yes, Preceptor Morgan. I understand.”
They sat in silence and finished their tea.
Part 6
