The Chapterhouse: Part Six
Jul. 8th, 2009 05:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Although Preceptor Morgan had made his wishes clear. Jensen knew his postulant, and he knew that Jared was just not ready to be taken. Which decided things. Jared would be experiencing intercourse, but it was Jensen who was going to be fucked. He wasn't adverse to it. He'd been fortunate to have a Pedagogue when he arrived that was very...thorough in his preparations; Jensen felt the heat pool low in his gut at the memory of his time with Jeffrey. He hadn’t been surprised when Jeffrey was elevated to Preceptor, and he understood that although he was losing a partner, the knighthood was gaining the best possible leader. Too, his departure laid the path for first Christian and then Jared to become a part of his life. There was much to be nostalgic about, but nothing to begrudge or regret.
Because Jensen was keenly aware of Jared’s reservations in fully submerging himself in the knighthood and consummating their relationship, Jensen was careful in his planning. He carefully choreographed training sessions so that their Adamen slid from one sensual pose to another, even feigning somna a few times—although the extent of their bond was such now that either of them rarely truly experienced it anymore—to allow Jared’s desire to build. Jensen ensured that their cleansing rituals were thorough, and skillfully began to teach Jared the sensitivity of his own body by touching in him in new ways, and allowing his postulant to touch him in return.
Jensen knew there was more to building their bond than sexual intercourse. To that end, during the evening healings, when they were each at their most relaxed, Jensen began to ask Jared questions about his childhood growing up on Lonestar. They reminisced over shared passions: waterball (although Jared foolishly preferred the Spurs to Jensen’s superior team the Mavericks), rough taverns on the edge of civilization that had the best bar-be-que, and family. They both had older brothers and younger sisters and they had both wanted to be knights for as long as either of them could remember. Finding that he and Jared had so much in common was like a lantern being lit in a dark cave. It somehow brought Jared into focus, and only made him want to find out more about what he saw--move closer, inspect and chart all of Jared’s mysteries.
Bit by bit during the week, as Jared unraveled his story, Jensen spun out his own. His similar upbringing on Lonestar, his love for his family, a brief foray into the arts—curious to see what so consumed his own father—but always returning to his dream of being a part of the Bevian order. Each night as they talked, Jensen felt more of his façade crumble as Jared asked thoughtful and probing questions to coax more information out of Jensen, leading him to talk about things he either hadn’t thought about in years, or had forgotten.
They laughed together. Jared was full of good humor when he finally relaxed and seemed to possess boundless energy, not to mention a bottomless stomach. Jared had managed to convince Jensen once or twice that the chefs in the rectory wouldn’t notice a few turkey drumsticks gone missing or just one pie gone from the shelf. Jensen hadn’t felt as exhilarated in years as he felt sneaking down the Chapter corridors with a jar of jam and a loaf of bread while trying not to laugh at the antics of his anything but subtle postulant. Evenings after their healing sessions, found them more often than not exchanging ribald stories and jokes while playing pai-gow or just downing rumberry with the other knights and postulants in the Lounge.
Late in the week, Jensen finally broached the topic of how he had come to the Chapterhouse. He’d been 19, and thought he knew exactly what he was getting into: rigorous training, immersion in theology, and devout worship and serving his fellow beings. He’d gotten all that, but was faced with the additional task of releasing his preconceived notions of sexuality. He kept his eyes firmly on Jared through all of this, watching his postulant nod in agreement and seeing relief suffuse his face at not being the only one.
They were in the lounge tucked away in a corner, far from the pai-gow tables and the groups of chattering Brothers and Sisters. Jensen was sipping on his second rumberry, while carefully keeping Jared’s topped off throughout the evening.
“What did you do when you found out what passes between a Postulant and their Pedagogue?” Jared’s gaze pinned him, any inebriation suddenly gone, intent on Jensen’s answer.
Jensen took a swallow of rumberry before speaking. “I was…outraged,” his lips quirked slightly, “I was sure that it was a joke, some sort of hazing designed to weed out the non-believers. And then Jeffrey kissed me.”
Jared sat silent, watching as Jensen thought about what to say next. “I hit him. Told him I had a girlfriend back home, that I wasn’t interested in men and never would be.”
“What changed your mind?” The question was quiet, tentative.
“A lot of little things, but mostly they all add up to Helios.” Jensen took another sip from his glass.
Jared’s brow furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?”
Jensen fixed Jared’s eyes with his own, “There’s a reason for everything. Why we breathe, why we eat, why my eyes are green and someone else’s are blue. There’s a logic to Adamen, to the gift and to bonding. All of it boils down to Helios. This is what Helios intended for the Orders and her Knights. This is what Helios intended for me. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here. Eventually I just had to have faith in Helios and do what was being asked of me.”
“So what happened to…what did you say his name was? Jeffrey?” Jared tried to look casual, but Jensen could hear the tenseness in his voice.
Mouth quirking, he raised an eyebrow and sad casually, “Actually, you’ve met him.”
Jensen watched with amusement as Jared’s eyebrows knitted and he scanned his memory of everyone he’d met since coming to the Chapterhouse. The wheels turning in his head were nearly audible, and finally he shook his head as he disputed Jensen’s assertion. “No. I haven’t met anyone named Jeffrey since I’ve been here.”
Because he knew that the reaction would be worth it, he strung Jared along a bit further, “You have. On your very first day, in fact.” He took another pause as Jared narrowed his eyes and again shook his head. “Brother Jeffrey Morgan was my Pedagogue.”
Jensen couldn’t repress the laughter any longer once the name sunk in to Jared’s rumberry addled brain. His perplexed look was quickly followed by a widening of the eyes, and a gaping mouth as he put the pieces together.
“Preceptor Morgan?” It came out of Jared half-hiss, half-shout, and Jensen threw his head back and laughed even harder, his hands coming up to clasp around his stomach.
A span or more had passed by the time Jensen got himself back under control, and he wiped the tears from his eyes as Jared blurred into vision and took some deep breaths to steady himself.
“You have an awesome laugh. You should do it more often.” Jared was looking at him with something like fondness, but there was something else there, something burning and wild. It was this flicker of heat that Jensen needed to take advantage of now, while Jared was open and relaxed, but Jensen wasn’t sure he was quite there yet and he wanted to be sure Jared was ready.
“Thanks.” Jensen could feel the blush rising up his neck to cover his cheeks and he dove on, before he could think too much about what he was going to say next.
“Morgan was only my Pedagogue, and don’t get me wrong, he was great, smart, strong, patient, and well versed in sex. But, there wasn’t, we didn’t…bond fully, like I did with Christian.” He held back the like I think I could do with you and continued, “Christian was not only my Postulant, he was my partner.” Jensen felt the crack in his voice at the end; it was still hard to talk about him, think about him, remember what they had, but it didn’t ache like a fresh wound the way it used to.
He barreled on, “Christian came to the Chapterhouse with Steve Carlson.”
Jensen didn’t dare look at Jared for the next part, “They were brothers; half-brothers. The oracle determined that their gifts weren’t reaching their full potential with one another, and that they should be paired with others in the House. Chris used to say that was the worst day of his life, until he met me.” Jensen laughed weakly and took a deep swig of rumberry juice before continuing.
“Life with Chris wasn’t all shits and giggles. Especially not during our first season together. Chris was angry that he and Steve had been split up—the only thing that kept him here was Carlson--Steve. Steve had spent their whole childhood talking up the Order and how much he wanted to be a knight. How it was his destiny. Chris came to the Bevians because of Steve and he stayed because he didn’t want to disappoint Steve. Which ultimately led to his death.”
Jensen finally focused on Jared and was a bit surprised to see him leaning forward, forearms on his knees, fingers entangled, eyes firmly fixed on Jensen. Jensen couldn’t remember when he’d ever seen Jared so still. Running a hand down his face, heel scrubbing at the beginnings of his beard, Jensen picked up his story again.
“Christian and I eventually bonded. We were together for four years—it was bound to happen, even if he was damn resistant to the whole idea—and eventually, Chris and I, and Steve and his bonded partner, Jason found ourselves at the top of the ranks. Not too long after, Steve suggested we go terrestrial and celebrate good and proper. We ended up on some backwater planet where the rumberry was strong and the temptations plentiful. I scored some song-poppy and we went back to our lodgings.” Jensen’s voice dropped and his speech became slower, more labored as he remembered that night.
“We cracked the poppy open and let the debauchery begin. I was floating high listening to Steve and Jason harmonize with the song of the poppy, and pretty soon Chris and I joined in. It was good. We were happy. We were strong. Until the morning came.” Tears welled in Jensen’s eyes as he clenched his jaw and forced himself to continue.
“I woke up with Christian draped across me, heavy and limp. I figured he was still sleeping the night off. Fuck, I wanted to still be sleeping the night off, but I had to piss. It wasn’t until I tried to get him off me and I realized the resistance wasn’t right…he was too stiff, not quite warm enough, too quiet.” Jensen’s breath hitched and his tongue seemed too big for his mouth. He dropped his head into his hands and let the pain out quietly. When Jared’s thigh pressed firm and warm against his and two arms wrapped around him pulling him close, Jensen let himself be comforted.
He wasn’t sure how long they sat there like that, Jared rubbing soothing strokes across his back, stopping every now and then to squeeze the nape of his neck, or his shoulder—reassuring him that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he’d still be there when Jensen was ready. Eventually he sat up, sniffed heartily and used the sleeve of his suit to wipe his face. Jared let one arm drop to Jensen’s lap and kept a hand on the small of Jensen’s back, a warm calming pressure.
“Turns out Christian was allergic to song-poppies.” A bitter laugh punctuated his statement, and he was silent a moment before he said, “It was a peaceful death, he just stopped breathing as he slept.”
Truly thirsty now, Jensen drained the last of his rumberry. “Steve’s always blamed me for his death. Thinks I should have known Chris was allergic. That somehow, some way, because we bonded, because we loved each other, I should have known. For awhile I believed it too. But eventually, I realized that no one could have known. It’s not exactly the sort of thing that shows up on regular physicals, and unless you’ve actually been exposed to song-poppy before you can’t know the effects.” Smiling wanly, he turned to Jared.
“But Carlson never forgave me. Never forgot that I was the one who bought the poppy, brought it into our revelry, and exposed his brother to death. And he’s hated me ever since. End of story.”
Jared raised a hand to cup Jensen’s face and it took everything he had not to turn into it, absorb its warmth, and let himself believe that there was something more than pity in the touch. Then Jared surprised and shocked him by leaning in and covering Jensen’s mouth with his own.
“You couldn’t have known, Jensen.” Words said softly against Jensen’s lips, Jared’s other hand coming up to cradle his head “It wasn’t your fault.”
Jensen nodded as best he could while Jared murmured reassurances into his mouth between kisses. And then the kisses weren’t so soft, they were insistent, Jared’s lips sucking and molding his own, tongue demanding entrance to Jensen’s mouth.
A distant whoop of approval followed by several catcalls and whistles finally broke through Jensen’s haze, and he realized that he and Jared were still in the Lounge, but it had filled during Jensen’s confession and now there was a multitude of eyes on their every move.
Gripping Jared’s hand, he headed for the exit in the back of the Lounge and took them to a part of the Chapterhouse his postulant had never seen.
********************
Jared allowed himself to be pulled along, knowing now, whatever it was Jensen wanted, Jared wanted to give it. They’d traveled down a hallway Jared knew eventually led to the refectory, but then Jensen took him down a narrow stairwell and took several corners in swift succession and Jared had no idea where they were. Jensen finally came to stop in front of a arch that led to a hallway lined with red doors. Jensen placed his hand on the plate next to the arch and a door midway down the hall swung open. Still gripping Jared’s hand tightly, Jensen led him down the hall and into the open door.
There was barely time for Jared to take in his surroundings, a long, low divan with a few pillows was centered in the middle of the room, a table to the side filled with various bottles and other things he couldn’t quite make out because of the low lighting, and a water feature in the far wall that trickled relaxingly in the background. Jared stopped looking at the room the second Jensen’s lips touched his. Deceptively soft looking, Jensen’s mouth was demanding, biting and sucking and grinding against Jared’s. Groaning, he followed Jensen’s lead.
They kissed ferociously while Jensen pulled Jared’s suit apart at the back where it fastened and moved his chest away from Jared’s just enough to pull it off from the front. Jared moved his mouth to Jensen’s neck, imitating what Jensen had done to him, intent on raising blood to the surface of the skin, adding nips and bites for good measure.
Jensen let him know he was on the right track by thumbing hard nipples, twisting them far enough for Jared to stop his suckling and then letting go, making him exhale in pleasure as pinpoints of sensation engulfed his chest.
Jensen’s hands were busy lower on their bodies as well, moving to smooth his own suit off jutting hips and sliding long fingers down the front of Jared’s groin to remove his. Jared bucked helplessly at the touch, thrusting forward into the air, cock bobbing, knees buckling.
Turning his face upward, Jensen captured Jared’s mouth again just as he pulled Jared’s hips into his own, crushing their erections between them. He started thrusting upward, rasping his firm length against Jared’s, both phalluses trapped by skin and muscle on all sides.
Jared’s eyes almost rolled completely out of their sockets when Jensen started to move, the friction of Jensen’s smooth belly and stiff cock pressing his own penis into himself and the crisp hair of his stomach, which caused a delicious duality of smooth and rough, hard and soft. He couldn’t last much longer. He didn’t last much longer. With a gurgled shout into Jensen’s mouth he came with unsteady jerks of his hips, coating their cocks and bellies with warmth while Jensen continued to move.
Then there were strong fingers and a wide palm shoved between them, wrapping around their cocks, pressing them together, fisting their shafts together, up and down, a bruising thumb over their heads, up and down, moving faster and easier as Jared’s come lubricated its way.
Jared clenched his teeth and wanted to protest that it was too much too soon, shooting pain was running through his sensitized cock, but instead he found himself growing hard again in Jensen’s hand. And then he was hard again. Hard and thrusting into the warm grip for all he was worth, putting his own large hands on the small of Jensen’s back to increase the pressure of their bodies, desperate to end the heavy sensation building deep in his balls.
But it wasn’t until Jared dropped his head to Jensen’s neck and suckled that Jensen shouted his release and Jared felt he could find his own.
When Jared focused, he realized he was slumped in a half-stance against the wall. Naked, sweaty, a thick stickiness on his torso. Blinking, he shook the clouds from his head and found Jensen standing directly in front of him, staring at him.
Jared became unnerved at the intensity of Jensen’s gaze and the quiet in the room. Not to mention the sensation of come drying on his chest, tightening the skin, inch by inch. Which led to thoughts of what had just passed between them.
Placing his hands on the wall behind him, he pushed off in order to stand upright and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Jensen had a hold of his shoulders and was twisting him, propelling him to the divan.
He hadn’t thought he could…well, rise to the occasion so quickly again, but apparently his body was more than willing to reach new plateaus of stamina. Jared leaned up to watch Jensen's head bob and weave a trail across his chest and down his abdomen, nipping, sucking, and licking all the way. The head of his cock was leaking and leaving a trail of its own as Jensen’s flesh whispered across it, making a wet path on him from navel to neck. Jared’s head rolled back and his hips bucked again when Jensen took Jared’s straining length into his mouth.
Jensen mouthed him, sucked him, and tongued him with skill beyond any he’d ever known. The hot slick, wet silk wrapped around his prick shot spirals of pleasure straight down Jared’s spine, pooling in his increasingly tight balls. With every pass of Jensen’s tongue, Jared got harder. He knew he’d started to whimper because he could hear it through the ceaseless ring in his ears.
Jensen lifted one of Jared’s knees with a firm hand pressed against the back of his thigh, leading him to crook first one leg and then the other, and letting them fall open around Jensen’s body. He could’ve sworn his balls had retreated into his body, leaving only his pulsing cock to absorb the amazing pleasure Jensen was giving it. He found he was wrong when gentle fingers started fondling his sack, rolling the bundles inside against each other and dipping down to massage that magical strip of skin just behind them.
Jensen’s other hand had moved just enough for one of his fingers to slip into Jared’s mouth. Jared bit and suckled it frantically, mimicking the movements of Jensen’s other hand and mouth on his loins.
Jensen’s nimble digits and knowing tongue were…and then he felt it: Jensen’s nose against his groin and a sweet tightening of rolling muscles on the head of his cock. Jensen hadn’t ever done this before, hadn’t ever swallowed him down, squeezing the tip of his prick with the tight closure of his throat like a slick vise.
Jared gave a helpless, violent thrust of his hips into Jensen’s face, and his back arched so high, the crown of his head was flush against the divan, as his arms drew taut, gripping the frame and letting out an animalistic scream as he pulsed his release into Jensen’s demanding mouth.
********************
Jensen straddled Jared’s sturdy frame, grinding himself against the sweat-slicked abdomen. The crisp hair rasped against his balls and ass compounding the throbbing ache in his cock.
Jensen watched intently as Jared came back from the depths of orgasm, moaning and sighing. It was nearly as erotic as what it took to send him there.
Licking his palm, Jensen grasped the straining member that was twitching against his belly, running a thumb over the wet head to further slick his path. He stroked to the rhythm of Jared’s breathing and the pumping of the blood through the fevered body beneath him.
“Liked that didn’t you, Posey?” Jensen rasped. He trailed a hand over stretched triceps, through thatched armpits, across still hard nipples. Thrusting into his fist he spoke to the bemused young man, “Your cock in my throat, my prick dripping against yours, the taste of my mouth…”
He moved slightly and grabbed for the bottle on the table and poured some on to his fingers before replacing it and then leaning to one side and slicking his hole, preparing himself for Jared’s cock. “Know what I’m doing now, Jared? I’m slicking myself for you. I’m working open my ass for you so I can ride your cock.” He moaned as he inserted one and then two fingers, stretching himself open, rocking his hips back on his hand, exulting as he saw Jared’s pupils blow even wider and his lips part, panting in anticipation.
A few moments later he rebalanced his feet on either side of Jared, hovering momentarily while he grasped Jared’s prick with one hand, the other spread wide on his chest for balance as he breached himself with Jared’s turgid prick. Jared moaned loudly as Jensen’s tight ring of muscle gave slightly and the head of his cock popped through and his frenulum was encased by squeezing muscle. Fuck. Jensen had forgotten how fantastic the burning stretch of being filled was.
He let his head fall back as he moved to seat himself fully on Jared's length. He slowly began to raise and lower himself on Jared’s cock, his hand working in slow even pulls on his own cock, tugging and twisting his crimson headed phallus with each downward stroke.
“So big, Posey, filling me up, stretching me, so hot. The sounds you make…I knew you would feel so good inside me, I knew it…”
Legs flexing, and hand wringing his own flesh, he focused on the object of his lust, finding glassy hazel eyes staring back at him.
Then Jared’s hands were encasing his hips, thumbs finding purchase on the dip of his bone, fingers digging into the small of his back, lifting and pulling Jensen in time with the snap of his hips. Jensen holds on as long as he can, until Jared locks eyes with Jensen, begging and desperate, a wrecked plea escaping him, “Jensen.” Jensen dips then and covers Jared’s mouth with his own, tongues sliding and slipping together as Jensen pulses his release onto Jared’s chest as he feels Jared shoot throbbing and hot into his ass.
Sated, he lays boneless on the hot, sweat-slicked body beneath him.
“How do you make me want you so much?” Jensen’s whisper came awhile later.
“I don’t know. I just know I feel the same way,” Jared told him quietly. The words I love you hovered just on the tip of his tongue but wouldn’t quite come out. They seemed too girly, somehow. Too trite. And on a deeper level, too damn frightening.
He looked up at Jensen, wanting to say something, to let him know how he felt. “I…I’ve never felt this way about a guy before. Never wanted a guy,” he confessed. “I, uh, didn’t think I had it in me to want that.”
Jensen laughed softly and ran a hand through Jared’s hair. “Don’t worry, I felt the same way when I first came to the Chapterhouse. I think a lot of us did.” His eyes grew dark. “I didn’t really understand the depth of what I could feel until they paired me with Christian.”
“I’m sorry,” Jared said, knowing the words were inadequate. “So damn sorry, Jensen.”
“Don’t be.” Jensen shook his head, his short hair whispering against the pillow.
“It’s my past, my shit, and I’m the one who has to deal with it.”
********************
Jared was startled awake by the clamor of the Chapel bells ringing. Something was wrong, and it wasn't just the lassitude of his limbs or the fuzzy after effects of rumberry that told him so. It took him a few tics to place himself, and while he wanted to revel in the warmth of the body next to him, it was sitting up and moving away.
"Get up, Jared." Jensen's voice was calm, but urgent. His gut told him that this could not be good. The look on Jensen's face told him that he was likely correct. They quickly dressed and hurried to the Chapel where he saw Preceptor Morgan standing on the dais with a scowl on his face.
The crowd was silent, sensing the solemnity of Preceptor Morgan, and swiftly took their accustomed places.
"Thank you for your attention." Preceptor Morgan got quickly to the point. "It is with great concern that I announce to you that the Sword of Helios has been discovered missing from the Sacred Vault." A murmur of excited talking filled the room. Jared had heard tales of the sword Helios had wielded during his battles with the other gods, but the legend was the sword had been lost millennia ago. He was shocked to hear it had resided in this facility.
Preceptor Morgan cleared his throat, and the congregation hushed once more. "It has been our Chapter's sacred duty for centuries to guard this sword, one we undertook with secrecy and great honor. I have called you here to make you all a promise. The perpetrators of this theft may believe they have acquired great power with the acquisition of the sword. They may believe they have become invincible. But be warned, the power of the sword is not to be meddled with; further, you will be found and the sword will be returned to its rightful custodians."
Jared was shocked. It was as if Preceptor Morgan was saying the thief was one of them? How could that be, how did anyone even know it was here?
"You are dismissed. I will be available in my office if there are any questions." With that, Preceptor Morgan left the dais and then the chapel. Jensen grabbed Jared's arm and hurried him out of the chapel while the rest of the room looked at each other in confusion and chattered nervously.
"Come on, I think I know what is going on here." Jared was swept along in his wake. Jensen led Jared to Precept Morgan's office which he barged into without knocking.
"It has to be Carlson." Jensen blurted. "Has to be."
"I tend to agree, Brother Ackles. Please lower your voice and shut the door."
Preceptor Morgan gestured to the guest chairs in front of his desk. "He has not been subtle in his dissatisfaction with many of our ways of late and I warned him recently that I was considering assigning postulant Murray to another Pedagogue. He did not take that well; between his attitude and some other indiscretions, he has been skating on thin ice."
"Thin ice? I never understood why you..." Jensen bit his tongue. "I think I know where I might find him. And I will make him return the sword one way or another."
Preceptor Morgan nodded. "Use prudence, Jensen. I’ve recently become aware that he was using a room in the catacombs as a private training area; I suggest you look there first. Report back to me if find him there. I will deal with the situation after that."
"What's going on, Jensen? Why would Carlson be involved with something like this? I don’t..."
"I have not trusted him for a long while now, but even I wouldn’t have suspected...." Jensen sounded tired and very angry.
"What? I don't understand this at all." Jared was struggling to make sense of it all. He was going to trust Jensen, but he was struggling with the basic premise. Carlson? Stealing the Sword of Helios? To what end? What if Chad was involved?
"Shhhh." Jensen put his finger to his lips. "The room is at the end of this hall."
Jensen motioned for Jared to remain where he was and walked down the corridor alone. He stopped before an anonymous looking door near the end, put his ear to it and then motioned for Jared to come to him. Hurrying, Jared watched as Jensen opened the door and motioned for Jared to follow him inside.
The inside of the room held a jumble of clutter heaped in piles around the edges of the floor. The center of the floor was decorated with a painting composed of runes of some type that Jared was completely unfamiliar with. Jensen was careful to avoid stepping on the painting as he walked around it, studying the ancient symbols. "He couldn't be..." Jensen turned around and scanned the piles on the floor. "Godsdamnit, he is! Come on, Jared…."
Jared again followed as Jensen ran from the room. "The idiot has been messing about with the forbidden gift, now that he has the sword there is no telling the damage he might do."
"Preceptor Morgan...."
"There’s no time for that." Jensen sped up his pace. "Run!"
********************
PART SEVEN
Although Preceptor Morgan had made his wishes clear. Jensen knew his postulant, and he knew that Jared was just not ready to be taken. Which decided things. Jared would be experiencing intercourse, but it was Jensen who was going to be fucked. He wasn't adverse to it. He'd been fortunate to have a Pedagogue when he arrived that was very...thorough in his preparations; Jensen felt the heat pool low in his gut at the memory of his time with Jeffrey. He hadn’t been surprised when Jeffrey was elevated to Preceptor, and he understood that although he was losing a partner, the knighthood was gaining the best possible leader. Too, his departure laid the path for first Christian and then Jared to become a part of his life. There was much to be nostalgic about, but nothing to begrudge or regret.
Because Jensen was keenly aware of Jared’s reservations in fully submerging himself in the knighthood and consummating their relationship, Jensen was careful in his planning. He carefully choreographed training sessions so that their Adamen slid from one sensual pose to another, even feigning somna a few times—although the extent of their bond was such now that either of them rarely truly experienced it anymore—to allow Jared’s desire to build. Jensen ensured that their cleansing rituals were thorough, and skillfully began to teach Jared the sensitivity of his own body by touching in him in new ways, and allowing his postulant to touch him in return.
Jensen knew there was more to building their bond than sexual intercourse. To that end, during the evening healings, when they were each at their most relaxed, Jensen began to ask Jared questions about his childhood growing up on Lonestar. They reminisced over shared passions: waterball (although Jared foolishly preferred the Spurs to Jensen’s superior team the Mavericks), rough taverns on the edge of civilization that had the best bar-be-que, and family. They both had older brothers and younger sisters and they had both wanted to be knights for as long as either of them could remember. Finding that he and Jared had so much in common was like a lantern being lit in a dark cave. It somehow brought Jared into focus, and only made him want to find out more about what he saw--move closer, inspect and chart all of Jared’s mysteries.
Bit by bit during the week, as Jared unraveled his story, Jensen spun out his own. His similar upbringing on Lonestar, his love for his family, a brief foray into the arts—curious to see what so consumed his own father—but always returning to his dream of being a part of the Bevian order. Each night as they talked, Jensen felt more of his façade crumble as Jared asked thoughtful and probing questions to coax more information out of Jensen, leading him to talk about things he either hadn’t thought about in years, or had forgotten.
They laughed together. Jared was full of good humor when he finally relaxed and seemed to possess boundless energy, not to mention a bottomless stomach. Jared had managed to convince Jensen once or twice that the chefs in the rectory wouldn’t notice a few turkey drumsticks gone missing or just one pie gone from the shelf. Jensen hadn’t felt as exhilarated in years as he felt sneaking down the Chapter corridors with a jar of jam and a loaf of bread while trying not to laugh at the antics of his anything but subtle postulant. Evenings after their healing sessions, found them more often than not exchanging ribald stories and jokes while playing pai-gow or just downing rumberry with the other knights and postulants in the Lounge.
Late in the week, Jensen finally broached the topic of how he had come to the Chapterhouse. He’d been 19, and thought he knew exactly what he was getting into: rigorous training, immersion in theology, and devout worship and serving his fellow beings. He’d gotten all that, but was faced with the additional task of releasing his preconceived notions of sexuality. He kept his eyes firmly on Jared through all of this, watching his postulant nod in agreement and seeing relief suffuse his face at not being the only one.
They were in the lounge tucked away in a corner, far from the pai-gow tables and the groups of chattering Brothers and Sisters. Jensen was sipping on his second rumberry, while carefully keeping Jared’s topped off throughout the evening.
“What did you do when you found out what passes between a Postulant and their Pedagogue?” Jared’s gaze pinned him, any inebriation suddenly gone, intent on Jensen’s answer.
Jensen took a swallow of rumberry before speaking. “I was…outraged,” his lips quirked slightly, “I was sure that it was a joke, some sort of hazing designed to weed out the non-believers. And then Jeffrey kissed me.”
Jared sat silent, watching as Jensen thought about what to say next. “I hit him. Told him I had a girlfriend back home, that I wasn’t interested in men and never would be.”
“What changed your mind?” The question was quiet, tentative.
“A lot of little things, but mostly they all add up to Helios.” Jensen took another sip from his glass.
Jared’s brow furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?”
Jensen fixed Jared’s eyes with his own, “There’s a reason for everything. Why we breathe, why we eat, why my eyes are green and someone else’s are blue. There’s a logic to Adamen, to the gift and to bonding. All of it boils down to Helios. This is what Helios intended for the Orders and her Knights. This is what Helios intended for me. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here. Eventually I just had to have faith in Helios and do what was being asked of me.”
“So what happened to…what did you say his name was? Jeffrey?” Jared tried to look casual, but Jensen could hear the tenseness in his voice.
Mouth quirking, he raised an eyebrow and sad casually, “Actually, you’ve met him.”
Jensen watched with amusement as Jared’s eyebrows knitted and he scanned his memory of everyone he’d met since coming to the Chapterhouse. The wheels turning in his head were nearly audible, and finally he shook his head as he disputed Jensen’s assertion. “No. I haven’t met anyone named Jeffrey since I’ve been here.”
Because he knew that the reaction would be worth it, he strung Jared along a bit further, “You have. On your very first day, in fact.” He took another pause as Jared narrowed his eyes and again shook his head. “Brother Jeffrey Morgan was my Pedagogue.”
Jensen couldn’t repress the laughter any longer once the name sunk in to Jared’s rumberry addled brain. His perplexed look was quickly followed by a widening of the eyes, and a gaping mouth as he put the pieces together.
“Preceptor Morgan?” It came out of Jared half-hiss, half-shout, and Jensen threw his head back and laughed even harder, his hands coming up to clasp around his stomach.
A span or more had passed by the time Jensen got himself back under control, and he wiped the tears from his eyes as Jared blurred into vision and took some deep breaths to steady himself.
“You have an awesome laugh. You should do it more often.” Jared was looking at him with something like fondness, but there was something else there, something burning and wild. It was this flicker of heat that Jensen needed to take advantage of now, while Jared was open and relaxed, but Jensen wasn’t sure he was quite there yet and he wanted to be sure Jared was ready.
“Thanks.” Jensen could feel the blush rising up his neck to cover his cheeks and he dove on, before he could think too much about what he was going to say next.
“Morgan was only my Pedagogue, and don’t get me wrong, he was great, smart, strong, patient, and well versed in sex. But, there wasn’t, we didn’t…bond fully, like I did with Christian.” He held back the like I think I could do with you and continued, “Christian was not only my Postulant, he was my partner.” Jensen felt the crack in his voice at the end; it was still hard to talk about him, think about him, remember what they had, but it didn’t ache like a fresh wound the way it used to.
He barreled on, “Christian came to the Chapterhouse with Steve Carlson.”
Jensen didn’t dare look at Jared for the next part, “They were brothers; half-brothers. The oracle determined that their gifts weren’t reaching their full potential with one another, and that they should be paired with others in the House. Chris used to say that was the worst day of his life, until he met me.” Jensen laughed weakly and took a deep swig of rumberry juice before continuing.
“Life with Chris wasn’t all shits and giggles. Especially not during our first season together. Chris was angry that he and Steve had been split up—the only thing that kept him here was Carlson--Steve. Steve had spent their whole childhood talking up the Order and how much he wanted to be a knight. How it was his destiny. Chris came to the Bevians because of Steve and he stayed because he didn’t want to disappoint Steve. Which ultimately led to his death.”
Jensen finally focused on Jared and was a bit surprised to see him leaning forward, forearms on his knees, fingers entangled, eyes firmly fixed on Jensen. Jensen couldn’t remember when he’d ever seen Jared so still. Running a hand down his face, heel scrubbing at the beginnings of his beard, Jensen picked up his story again.
“Christian and I eventually bonded. We were together for four years—it was bound to happen, even if he was damn resistant to the whole idea—and eventually, Chris and I, and Steve and his bonded partner, Jason found ourselves at the top of the ranks. Not too long after, Steve suggested we go terrestrial and celebrate good and proper. We ended up on some backwater planet where the rumberry was strong and the temptations plentiful. I scored some song-poppy and we went back to our lodgings.” Jensen’s voice dropped and his speech became slower, more labored as he remembered that night.
“We cracked the poppy open and let the debauchery begin. I was floating high listening to Steve and Jason harmonize with the song of the poppy, and pretty soon Chris and I joined in. It was good. We were happy. We were strong. Until the morning came.” Tears welled in Jensen’s eyes as he clenched his jaw and forced himself to continue.
“I woke up with Christian draped across me, heavy and limp. I figured he was still sleeping the night off. Fuck, I wanted to still be sleeping the night off, but I had to piss. It wasn’t until I tried to get him off me and I realized the resistance wasn’t right…he was too stiff, not quite warm enough, too quiet.” Jensen’s breath hitched and his tongue seemed too big for his mouth. He dropped his head into his hands and let the pain out quietly. When Jared’s thigh pressed firm and warm against his and two arms wrapped around him pulling him close, Jensen let himself be comforted.
He wasn’t sure how long they sat there like that, Jared rubbing soothing strokes across his back, stopping every now and then to squeeze the nape of his neck, or his shoulder—reassuring him that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he’d still be there when Jensen was ready. Eventually he sat up, sniffed heartily and used the sleeve of his suit to wipe his face. Jared let one arm drop to Jensen’s lap and kept a hand on the small of Jensen’s back, a warm calming pressure.
“Turns out Christian was allergic to song-poppies.” A bitter laugh punctuated his statement, and he was silent a moment before he said, “It was a peaceful death, he just stopped breathing as he slept.”
Truly thirsty now, Jensen drained the last of his rumberry. “Steve’s always blamed me for his death. Thinks I should have known Chris was allergic. That somehow, some way, because we bonded, because we loved each other, I should have known. For awhile I believed it too. But eventually, I realized that no one could have known. It’s not exactly the sort of thing that shows up on regular physicals, and unless you’ve actually been exposed to song-poppy before you can’t know the effects.” Smiling wanly, he turned to Jared.
“But Carlson never forgave me. Never forgot that I was the one who bought the poppy, brought it into our revelry, and exposed his brother to death. And he’s hated me ever since. End of story.”
Jared raised a hand to cup Jensen’s face and it took everything he had not to turn into it, absorb its warmth, and let himself believe that there was something more than pity in the touch. Then Jared surprised and shocked him by leaning in and covering Jensen’s mouth with his own.
“You couldn’t have known, Jensen.” Words said softly against Jensen’s lips, Jared’s other hand coming up to cradle his head “It wasn’t your fault.”
Jensen nodded as best he could while Jared murmured reassurances into his mouth between kisses. And then the kisses weren’t so soft, they were insistent, Jared’s lips sucking and molding his own, tongue demanding entrance to Jensen’s mouth.
A distant whoop of approval followed by several catcalls and whistles finally broke through Jensen’s haze, and he realized that he and Jared were still in the Lounge, but it had filled during Jensen’s confession and now there was a multitude of eyes on their every move.
Gripping Jared’s hand, he headed for the exit in the back of the Lounge and took them to a part of the Chapterhouse his postulant had never seen.
Jared allowed himself to be pulled along, knowing now, whatever it was Jensen wanted, Jared wanted to give it. They’d traveled down a hallway Jared knew eventually led to the refectory, but then Jensen took him down a narrow stairwell and took several corners in swift succession and Jared had no idea where they were. Jensen finally came to stop in front of a arch that led to a hallway lined with red doors. Jensen placed his hand on the plate next to the arch and a door midway down the hall swung open. Still gripping Jared’s hand tightly, Jensen led him down the hall and into the open door.
There was barely time for Jared to take in his surroundings, a long, low divan with a few pillows was centered in the middle of the room, a table to the side filled with various bottles and other things he couldn’t quite make out because of the low lighting, and a water feature in the far wall that trickled relaxingly in the background. Jared stopped looking at the room the second Jensen’s lips touched his. Deceptively soft looking, Jensen’s mouth was demanding, biting and sucking and grinding against Jared’s. Groaning, he followed Jensen’s lead.
They kissed ferociously while Jensen pulled Jared’s suit apart at the back where it fastened and moved his chest away from Jared’s just enough to pull it off from the front. Jared moved his mouth to Jensen’s neck, imitating what Jensen had done to him, intent on raising blood to the surface of the skin, adding nips and bites for good measure.
Jensen let him know he was on the right track by thumbing hard nipples, twisting them far enough for Jared to stop his suckling and then letting go, making him exhale in pleasure as pinpoints of sensation engulfed his chest.
Jensen’s hands were busy lower on their bodies as well, moving to smooth his own suit off jutting hips and sliding long fingers down the front of Jared’s groin to remove his. Jared bucked helplessly at the touch, thrusting forward into the air, cock bobbing, knees buckling.
Turning his face upward, Jensen captured Jared’s mouth again just as he pulled Jared’s hips into his own, crushing their erections between them. He started thrusting upward, rasping his firm length against Jared’s, both phalluses trapped by skin and muscle on all sides.
Jared’s eyes almost rolled completely out of their sockets when Jensen started to move, the friction of Jensen’s smooth belly and stiff cock pressing his own penis into himself and the crisp hair of his stomach, which caused a delicious duality of smooth and rough, hard and soft. He couldn’t last much longer. He didn’t last much longer. With a gurgled shout into Jensen’s mouth he came with unsteady jerks of his hips, coating their cocks and bellies with warmth while Jensen continued to move.
Then there were strong fingers and a wide palm shoved between them, wrapping around their cocks, pressing them together, fisting their shafts together, up and down, a bruising thumb over their heads, up and down, moving faster and easier as Jared’s come lubricated its way.
Jared clenched his teeth and wanted to protest that it was too much too soon, shooting pain was running through his sensitized cock, but instead he found himself growing hard again in Jensen’s hand. And then he was hard again. Hard and thrusting into the warm grip for all he was worth, putting his own large hands on the small of Jensen’s back to increase the pressure of their bodies, desperate to end the heavy sensation building deep in his balls.
But it wasn’t until Jared dropped his head to Jensen’s neck and suckled that Jensen shouted his release and Jared felt he could find his own.
When Jared focused, he realized he was slumped in a half-stance against the wall. Naked, sweaty, a thick stickiness on his torso. Blinking, he shook the clouds from his head and found Jensen standing directly in front of him, staring at him.
Jared became unnerved at the intensity of Jensen’s gaze and the quiet in the room. Not to mention the sensation of come drying on his chest, tightening the skin, inch by inch. Which led to thoughts of what had just passed between them.
Placing his hands on the wall behind him, he pushed off in order to stand upright and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Jensen had a hold of his shoulders and was twisting him, propelling him to the divan.
He hadn’t thought he could…well, rise to the occasion so quickly again, but apparently his body was more than willing to reach new plateaus of stamina. Jared leaned up to watch Jensen's head bob and weave a trail across his chest and down his abdomen, nipping, sucking, and licking all the way. The head of his cock was leaking and leaving a trail of its own as Jensen’s flesh whispered across it, making a wet path on him from navel to neck. Jared’s head rolled back and his hips bucked again when Jensen took Jared’s straining length into his mouth.
Jensen mouthed him, sucked him, and tongued him with skill beyond any he’d ever known. The hot slick, wet silk wrapped around his prick shot spirals of pleasure straight down Jared’s spine, pooling in his increasingly tight balls. With every pass of Jensen’s tongue, Jared got harder. He knew he’d started to whimper because he could hear it through the ceaseless ring in his ears.
Jensen lifted one of Jared’s knees with a firm hand pressed against the back of his thigh, leading him to crook first one leg and then the other, and letting them fall open around Jensen’s body. He could’ve sworn his balls had retreated into his body, leaving only his pulsing cock to absorb the amazing pleasure Jensen was giving it. He found he was wrong when gentle fingers started fondling his sack, rolling the bundles inside against each other and dipping down to massage that magical strip of skin just behind them.
Jensen’s other hand had moved just enough for one of his fingers to slip into Jared’s mouth. Jared bit and suckled it frantically, mimicking the movements of Jensen’s other hand and mouth on his loins.
Jensen’s nimble digits and knowing tongue were…and then he felt it: Jensen’s nose against his groin and a sweet tightening of rolling muscles on the head of his cock. Jensen hadn’t ever done this before, hadn’t ever swallowed him down, squeezing the tip of his prick with the tight closure of his throat like a slick vise.
Jared gave a helpless, violent thrust of his hips into Jensen’s face, and his back arched so high, the crown of his head was flush against the divan, as his arms drew taut, gripping the frame and letting out an animalistic scream as he pulsed his release into Jensen’s demanding mouth.
Jensen straddled Jared’s sturdy frame, grinding himself against the sweat-slicked abdomen. The crisp hair rasped against his balls and ass compounding the throbbing ache in his cock.
Jensen watched intently as Jared came back from the depths of orgasm, moaning and sighing. It was nearly as erotic as what it took to send him there.
Licking his palm, Jensen grasped the straining member that was twitching against his belly, running a thumb over the wet head to further slick his path. He stroked to the rhythm of Jared’s breathing and the pumping of the blood through the fevered body beneath him.
“Liked that didn’t you, Posey?” Jensen rasped. He trailed a hand over stretched triceps, through thatched armpits, across still hard nipples. Thrusting into his fist he spoke to the bemused young man, “Your cock in my throat, my prick dripping against yours, the taste of my mouth…”
He moved slightly and grabbed for the bottle on the table and poured some on to his fingers before replacing it and then leaning to one side and slicking his hole, preparing himself for Jared’s cock. “Know what I’m doing now, Jared? I’m slicking myself for you. I’m working open my ass for you so I can ride your cock.” He moaned as he inserted one and then two fingers, stretching himself open, rocking his hips back on his hand, exulting as he saw Jared’s pupils blow even wider and his lips part, panting in anticipation.
A few moments later he rebalanced his feet on either side of Jared, hovering momentarily while he grasped Jared’s prick with one hand, the other spread wide on his chest for balance as he breached himself with Jared’s turgid prick. Jared moaned loudly as Jensen’s tight ring of muscle gave slightly and the head of his cock popped through and his frenulum was encased by squeezing muscle. Fuck. Jensen had forgotten how fantastic the burning stretch of being filled was.
He let his head fall back as he moved to seat himself fully on Jared's length. He slowly began to raise and lower himself on Jared’s cock, his hand working in slow even pulls on his own cock, tugging and twisting his crimson headed phallus with each downward stroke.
“So big, Posey, filling me up, stretching me, so hot. The sounds you make…I knew you would feel so good inside me, I knew it…”
Legs flexing, and hand wringing his own flesh, he focused on the object of his lust, finding glassy hazel eyes staring back at him.
Then Jared’s hands were encasing his hips, thumbs finding purchase on the dip of his bone, fingers digging into the small of his back, lifting and pulling Jensen in time with the snap of his hips. Jensen holds on as long as he can, until Jared locks eyes with Jensen, begging and desperate, a wrecked plea escaping him, “Jensen.” Jensen dips then and covers Jared’s mouth with his own, tongues sliding and slipping together as Jensen pulses his release onto Jared’s chest as he feels Jared shoot throbbing and hot into his ass.
Sated, he lays boneless on the hot, sweat-slicked body beneath him.
“How do you make me want you so much?” Jensen’s whisper came awhile later.
“I don’t know. I just know I feel the same way,” Jared told him quietly. The words I love you hovered just on the tip of his tongue but wouldn’t quite come out. They seemed too girly, somehow. Too trite. And on a deeper level, too damn frightening.
He looked up at Jensen, wanting to say something, to let him know how he felt. “I…I’ve never felt this way about a guy before. Never wanted a guy,” he confessed. “I, uh, didn’t think I had it in me to want that.”
Jensen laughed softly and ran a hand through Jared’s hair. “Don’t worry, I felt the same way when I first came to the Chapterhouse. I think a lot of us did.” His eyes grew dark. “I didn’t really understand the depth of what I could feel until they paired me with Christian.”
“I’m sorry,” Jared said, knowing the words were inadequate. “So damn sorry, Jensen.”
“Don’t be.” Jensen shook his head, his short hair whispering against the pillow.
“It’s my past, my shit, and I’m the one who has to deal with it.”
Jared was startled awake by the clamor of the Chapel bells ringing. Something was wrong, and it wasn't just the lassitude of his limbs or the fuzzy after effects of rumberry that told him so. It took him a few tics to place himself, and while he wanted to revel in the warmth of the body next to him, it was sitting up and moving away.
"Get up, Jared." Jensen's voice was calm, but urgent. His gut told him that this could not be good. The look on Jensen's face told him that he was likely correct. They quickly dressed and hurried to the Chapel where he saw Preceptor Morgan standing on the dais with a scowl on his face.
The crowd was silent, sensing the solemnity of Preceptor Morgan, and swiftly took their accustomed places.
"Thank you for your attention." Preceptor Morgan got quickly to the point. "It is with great concern that I announce to you that the Sword of Helios has been discovered missing from the Sacred Vault." A murmur of excited talking filled the room. Jared had heard tales of the sword Helios had wielded during his battles with the other gods, but the legend was the sword had been lost millennia ago. He was shocked to hear it had resided in this facility.
Preceptor Morgan cleared his throat, and the congregation hushed once more. "It has been our Chapter's sacred duty for centuries to guard this sword, one we undertook with secrecy and great honor. I have called you here to make you all a promise. The perpetrators of this theft may believe they have acquired great power with the acquisition of the sword. They may believe they have become invincible. But be warned, the power of the sword is not to be meddled with; further, you will be found and the sword will be returned to its rightful custodians."
Jared was shocked. It was as if Preceptor Morgan was saying the thief was one of them? How could that be, how did anyone even know it was here?
"You are dismissed. I will be available in my office if there are any questions." With that, Preceptor Morgan left the dais and then the chapel. Jensen grabbed Jared's arm and hurried him out of the chapel while the rest of the room looked at each other in confusion and chattered nervously.
"Come on, I think I know what is going on here." Jared was swept along in his wake. Jensen led Jared to Precept Morgan's office which he barged into without knocking.
"It has to be Carlson." Jensen blurted. "Has to be."
"I tend to agree, Brother Ackles. Please lower your voice and shut the door."
Preceptor Morgan gestured to the guest chairs in front of his desk. "He has not been subtle in his dissatisfaction with many of our ways of late and I warned him recently that I was considering assigning postulant Murray to another Pedagogue. He did not take that well; between his attitude and some other indiscretions, he has been skating on thin ice."
"Thin ice? I never understood why you..." Jensen bit his tongue. "I think I know where I might find him. And I will make him return the sword one way or another."
Preceptor Morgan nodded. "Use prudence, Jensen. I’ve recently become aware that he was using a room in the catacombs as a private training area; I suggest you look there first. Report back to me if find him there. I will deal with the situation after that."
"What's going on, Jensen? Why would Carlson be involved with something like this? I don’t..."
"I have not trusted him for a long while now, but even I wouldn’t have suspected...." Jensen sounded tired and very angry.
"What? I don't understand this at all." Jared was struggling to make sense of it all. He was going to trust Jensen, but he was struggling with the basic premise. Carlson? Stealing the Sword of Helios? To what end? What if Chad was involved?
"Shhhh." Jensen put his finger to his lips. "The room is at the end of this hall."
Jensen motioned for Jared to remain where he was and walked down the corridor alone. He stopped before an anonymous looking door near the end, put his ear to it and then motioned for Jared to come to him. Hurrying, Jared watched as Jensen opened the door and motioned for Jared to follow him inside.
The inside of the room held a jumble of clutter heaped in piles around the edges of the floor. The center of the floor was decorated with a painting composed of runes of some type that Jared was completely unfamiliar with. Jensen was careful to avoid stepping on the painting as he walked around it, studying the ancient symbols. "He couldn't be..." Jensen turned around and scanned the piles on the floor. "Godsdamnit, he is! Come on, Jared…."
Jared again followed as Jensen ran from the room. "The idiot has been messing about with the forbidden gift, now that he has the sword there is no telling the damage he might do."
"Preceptor Morgan...."
"There’s no time for that." Jensen sped up his pace. "Run!"
PART SEVEN
