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soncnicaTitle: But The Storm Is A-Coming 'Cross The Hills Tonight 3/7
Author: soncnica
Rating: R, G, idk
Genre/Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Wordcount: cca 2.700 this chapter
Summary: Jared is King Dean Morgan’s knight. He is the one the King calls for whenever torture or punishment has to be done and Jared’s expertise is whipping. Jensen is his next victim. Or is he?
Warnings: Gore, blood, whipping and all that goes along with that, mystery, magic, abuse of history and knighthood, angst?, NO character death, NO disfigurement, hurt!Jensen, h/c.
Disclaimer: I seriously only own the grammar/spelling mistakes. Everything else is NOT MINE! ALL IS FICTION. The title comes from a song called A bar in Amsterdam from the band KatzenJammer and does not belong to me.
A/N: I just wanted to write Jared whipping Jensen, is that so bad? Don’t answer that. And well, this is what I came up with. If you decide to read this story, just trust me, I know exactly where I’m going with this. Thank you! And yeah the story is finished and it has around 7 chapters, I'll try to post every few days.
Beta: The ever awesome![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
marlowe78</lj>.
CHAPTER 3
The smell started to crawl up his nostrils as soon as he entered the dungeon. He kicked a rat out of his way and it crashed into the wall. Dead.
Louis was wiping his hands in a piece of red cloth, grinning like a maniac with fire in his eyes and Jared knew his friend just had the time of his life.
He just hoped that the blood on Louis’ hands wasn’t from Jensen.
“See you’ve been busy.”
Louis looked down at his hands: “Vewy.”
“’s he ready?”
“’sss time yet?”
“Yes.”
Louis sighed and stuffed the cloth into the pocket of his pants: “Time sssur’ fliesss when you hasss fun, knew that boy?”
Yes, he knew that. Knew that very well.
He nodded, hiding the impatience that was starting to shimmer in his veins.
“He’sss ready ‘n’ the g’ardsss too.”
“Don’t need ‘em. Gonna do this myself.”
“Jared, holds a minute thewe sss’n.”
“Louis, don’t…” don’t disobey me, don’t get in my way, don’t make me have to kill you.
His hand was already creeping slowly behind his back to grab hold of the dagger there, but Louis’ shoulders dropped and Jared knew the man would fold.
“Ehhh’ll sssee ya out. I’ll make sssu’e yur whip’ll be ready for ya.”
“You go do that.”
He started to walk towards where Jensen was, ignoring Louis’ mumbles about sick son’s of bitches who have to do everything themselves and not giving others any chance to play.
Jared wanted to puke, but he set his face into hard lines, collected and emotionless, cruelty in his eyes when he approached the two guards.
“Leave.”
The guards didn’t even breathe when they collected their weapons and left.
Jared shook his head.
Morons.
Jensen was now a shivering mess on the floor, still curled up, still showing his back to whoever was standing at the entrance to his ‘cell’.
No one would have touched him; the guards, Louis, not really. Jared was sure of it because they all knew that Jared loved to be the first one to bleed people who found themselves tied to his pillar and under his whip.
One guard had made a mistake once, touching a prisoner that was Jared’s… that guard was food for the worms now.
He walked to the man and crouched down, placing his hand on Jensen’s side again, just like before.
“Hey,” He whispered and flinched when Jensen did, “’s just me.”
“’m not deaf, could hear your crap clink miles away.”
“Yeah, keep holding to that feistiness.”
“Screw you.”
Jensen’s voice was hoarse, skin soaking wet and cold to the touch.
Jared ran his hand up towards Jensen’s armpit, then down the man’s thigh, up again around to get under Jensen’s legs to his chest and stomach. His hand was hot, he was always too hot and he wanted to give some of that heat to the man lying before him, wanting to create some friction to make the shivers stop running up and down Jensen’s body.
He didn’t stop touching when he said: “You ready to go?”
“’s that an actual question or just a polite order, because the answer is no.”
Jared smiled: “Take it as you wish, man, but you know what it really is.”
“Shit.”
Jared’s hand stopped, fingers splayed wide across Jensen’s lower back, feeling the man lean into his touch.
“I don’t want to.” Jensen whispered, broken and fragile voice that made Jared close his eyes and sigh: “I know.”
A shudder ran up Jensen’s back, one that Jared couldn’t stop, not even with the heat of his hand.
“Jensen, you have to trust me. Hey come on, turn around, let me look at ya.”
He put pressure on Jensen’s side, trying to make the man roll over, turn so that they would be able to look each other in the eye, speak to each other without words too.
Jensen did; rolled over, letting his hand fall between Jared’s spread knees, gripping at Jared’s pants by his thigh.
Now Jared shuddered and clenched his jaw. He had to stay strong. Had to stay at the top here.
“I do, but… sixty?”
Jared wanted to hit his head on the wall and die bleeding on the floor. It would be much easier.
Sixty was the lowest he could get from the King, who wanted a hundred and sixty, but Jared calmly explained that so many lashes would kill Jensen before the fun would have even started.
That had the King rethink hard about his order.
Jared knew exactly how to play the King, knew the King better than Dean Morgan knew himself and it was easy to get sixty out of him. It was like taking candy from a dead man.
“The king’ll know if I do less.”
“Shit, shit, shit.”
“Listen to me, listen… sixty is not that much, okay? It’ll end before it’ll even start and you know it.”
Jared was lying and they both knew it.
“Shit.”
“Yeah, you said that already.”
Jensen licked his lips: “Shit.”
Jared smiled a sad smile: “Yeah… come on, we have to go.”
He pulled the man apart; rearranging his limbs so that he was able to pull him up on his own feet. Shaky as they were.
Jensen felt weak in his arms, weak as a kitten.
“What did they do to you?”
“You care?”
That one stung.
“I can kill ‘em.”
Jensen smirked: “No, you can’t. Not anymore.”
That felt… good actually.
He picked up a pair of pants that were lying forgotten in the corner, where whoever brought Jensen in threw them to wait for just this occasion.
“Come on, let’s put these pants on you, can’t have the kids see your junk.”
“Yeah, but they can see the flesh fall from my back.”
Jared cringed.
“Don’t even go there.”
“Don’t wanna go anywhere, really.”
“Jensen…”
“Don’t…”
Jared bit his lip: “Fine.” and helped Jensen step into the pants: “Lean on me,” tying them with a string, brushing his knuckles on Jensen’s dick.
He wanted… to touch more, lick and suck, taste and have.
He cleared his throat and whispered: “We good?” into Jensen’s hair when the man tried to stand fully on his feet.
“Never been better.”
“Good, now just pretend that you hate my guts and scream a few times, when we’ll go out to the square.”
“Don’t think that’ll be a problem, because I do hate you right now,” he groaned, “so fucking much.”
“Yeah okay, work with that anger.”
Jensen huffed out a ‘fuck you’ that was muted by Jared’s neck, gripped the hood of Jared’s cloak with his shaky hand and leaned on the knight.
They hadn’t made a step before Jensen whispered: “Jared?”
“Yeah?”
“I hate this… I hate this so much.”
“I know, just… man up. Remember what I taught you, okay? Just... just ignore everything, see what you wanna see and just… just trust me here, okay man?”
Jensen tightened the fingers that were loosing themselves in the soft, velvety fabric of Jared’s cloak: “I trust you.”
“And that’s all you need to do, alright?”
“Mhm…”
“Everything else is on me, okay?”
Jensen was quiet all the way down the dungeon hallway… it was a tight fit for them, the walls closing in on them, the darkness becoming oily and thick and Jared was grateful for it, because that meant that whoever was watching them, couldn’t see how he held Jensen. Close to him. Too close to him.
Jensen shuffled his feet slowly, leaning heavily on Jared’s side, gripping the soft velvet of the knight’s hood with fingers numb from fear.
He lost his balance once, when he stepped on something with his bare feet, something soft and slippery. They stopped for a few seconds, just long enough for two deep breaths and then moved on.
They could both hear men whimpering and mumbling, some groaning out words that made no sense to either of them… men already gone insane, gone and locked themselves in their minds… some of that was on Jared too. He had some of the men in the dungeon under the crack of his whip a few days ago… tore flesh off their backs and made then scream and pass out.
Made one die.
He swallowed down the bile already rising up his throat… he knew that he would never be able to erase that part of his life, no matter how many penances he buys from the priests, because God… God doesn’t forgive things like that.
“Jared, ‘s all ready fo’ ya.”
He pushed Jensen away from him, making the man trip over his feet, at the sound of Louis’ voice coming further down the hall, and he just hoped that the man didn’t see anything, because he’d really hate to kill the only friend he really had here in the castle.
Jensen stumbled away, but Jared caught him just in time, before the man could fall on his side, probably crack some ribs in the process and pushed him forward, back to chest, like a guard leading a prisoner to his fate. This way, Jensen would be able to lean on him if his legs would give under his nerves.
“Louis, we’re coming.”
He put his hand on Jensen’s back and pushed him forward, slowly and whispered: “Easy.” on Jensen’s nape.
The shouting and cheers of people that were waiting in the main square was becoming louder and louder closer they stumbled to the door that lead from the dungeons to the square and Jared knew that all the muscles in Jensen’s body wanted to fight… turn around, hit and kick and run.
But he knew that Jensen wouldn’t do that. Not now. Not so close to freedom.
The guards at the door wore serious expressions, but Jared knew better. They were anxious, the thrill of watching a man get whipped already running through their systems.
He wanted to kill them. With his bare hands, just… grip their heads, make a fast turn and snap their necks. But instead he pushed at Jensen: “Go.” making the man stumble and almost fall on his nose.
Jared winced deep in his mind, but didn’t show any feelings on his face.
This was his job, this was what he did, this was what he was good at, this was what he was trained for.
He had to be at the top of his game to pull this off. He had to be.
“Open the door, you fools.”
He snapped and pushed Jensen through the open door, right into the hot afternoon sun that was still relentlessly beating up the dirt floor.
“Walk!”
He kept his eyes on Jensen’s back, muscles locked up so tight, skin stretched and soaking wet with a few bruises on his sides… someone had touched him, someone had touched Jensen before he got to him… he saw red for a while, but took a deep breath and walked after Jensen towards the pillar, where life or death would be decided.
The loud cheers almost knocked him off his feet when they fully stepped into the main square, and if he wouldn’t have been used to it, he would have fallen on his ass.
But he was used to it. This was his home. This square was a place he spend a lot of time on, spilled a lot of blood and excited the masses into an almost catatonic state with how – and this is something the people said – beautifully he could’ve whipped a person.
He closed his eyes… it was just his job, a way towards his future. Nothing else.
He nudged Jensen towards the pillar, wanting so badly to just be able to run away, grab Jensen and run.
The crowd was going crazy, whistles and screaming and yelling words Jared was pretty sure would need a lot of money to the priest to make the sin of them go away.
He ignored it all. The heat of the sun, the noise, the sand underneath his shoes, the cloak that made him sweat buckets… he ignored it all and hoped Jensen did too.
He pushed Jensen to the pillar, ignoring a low grunt that came from the man and grabbed the rope he had tied to a small ring above Jensen’s head, just a few hours ago.
“Hands…”
He plastered himself to Jensen’s shaking back, giving the man some support, a hard chest to lean on and Jensen took the offer, leaning heavily back, relaxing completely.
“You’re gonna be okay.” he whispered softy.
He grabbed Jensen’s forearms and lifted the man’s arms, stretching them up as far as they would go, tying them by their wrists, making sure the knots were secure enough; not tying too tight and not too loose. He didn’t want Jensen to hurt himself by rubbing his wrists raw and he didn’t want Jensen to dislocate his shoulder if he should pass out.
He leaned closer to Jensen’s ear while still tying the knots and whispered, for their ears only, hiding his moving lips with his long bangs: “If you need to puke, don’t fight it, just let it go, okay. If you piss yourself or shit yourself, don’t worry. If you pass out, I’m gonna have to pour water on you to wake you up, so try to hold on as long as you can. Don’t forget to breathe and if you need to scream, just do it, alright? Don’t hold anything in, it’ll just make you feel worse.”
“Shit, shit, shit…” Jensen whimpered.
“Shhh… quiet.”
The knots were tied perfectly, but his hand lingered on Jensen’s for a second too long and he could hear the King’s voice over all the other people’s voices; deep and booming, calling out: “Move it, Jared!!”
He called back: “Yes, my Lord!!”
The words burned his mouth.
He pulled a piece of a shirt out of his pocket, a shirt he had grown out of three years ago but wanted to… he just wanted to.
“Open up.”
The look he got from Jensen when he raised his head up to look at him made his heart drop down to his feet, but this was what he did. All the time and he couldn’t stop now. Not now when it was most important.
“Ackles! Open your mouth!”
And that was when things went to shit.
“Nononono, no,” Jensen started to shake his head left and right, fighting the rope that held him secure, bucking up and squirming away, trying to escape from Jared at his back, from the crowd all around them, from the pillar and the rope, screaming, “no, NO!!!”
“Ackles!!!”
If the King’s voice could carry through the crowd, booming like a cannonball, then Jared’s voice could silence the crowd; make everyone shut their mouth in fear of what he would do to them.
Jensen stilled. Everyone stilled. Life on the square held its breath.
And Jared smiled, because he knew, he knew that tone of voice made Jensen compliant every time, be it whispered or yelled. It worked every time.
“Open your damn mouth!”
Jensen did and Jared wanted to touch him, to reassure him that everything would really be alright, to stop fighting and just… get this over with.
He slipped the fabric into Jensen’s mouth: “Bite down,” feeling the man’s teeth grip the fabric: “Good, ‘s good. Now keep your tongue under it, don’t worry about getting your spit all over ya, we’ll clean that up later. And you can puke, just let it all flow out to the floor.”
He wanted to lean forward and kiss the stretched lips better, but couldn’t, because more than a hundred pairs of eyes were on them and one wrong move… they would both be dead before they would draw in their next breath.
“Sh’t, Ja’ed… sh’tt…” there was panic and a silent sob in Jensen’s muffled voice that Jared tried to ignore.
He tied the shirt behind Jensen’s head, whispering: “Go somewhere in your head, just… go. I’ll bring you back later, I swear, just trust me, I swear.”
Then he turned around and walked away.
CHAPTER 2 _II_ CHAPTER 4
Author: soncnica
Rating: R, G, idk
Genre/Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Wordcount: cca 2.700 this chapter
Summary: Jared is King Dean Morgan’s knight. He is the one the King calls for whenever torture or punishment has to be done and Jared’s expertise is whipping. Jensen is his next victim. Or is he?
Warnings: Gore, blood, whipping and all that goes along with that, mystery, magic, abuse of history and knighthood, angst?, NO character death, NO disfigurement, hurt!Jensen, h/c.
Disclaimer: I seriously only own the grammar/spelling mistakes. Everything else is NOT MINE! ALL IS FICTION. The title comes from a song called A bar in Amsterdam from the band KatzenJammer and does not belong to me.
A/N: I just wanted to write Jared whipping Jensen, is that so bad? Don’t answer that. And well, this is what I came up with. If you decide to read this story, just trust me, I know exactly where I’m going with this. Thank you! And yeah the story is finished and it has around 7 chapters, I'll try to post every few days.
Beta: The ever awesome
marlowe78</lj>.CHAPTER 3
The smell started to crawl up his nostrils as soon as he entered the dungeon. He kicked a rat out of his way and it crashed into the wall. Dead.
Louis was wiping his hands in a piece of red cloth, grinning like a maniac with fire in his eyes and Jared knew his friend just had the time of his life.
He just hoped that the blood on Louis’ hands wasn’t from Jensen.
“See you’ve been busy.”
Louis looked down at his hands: “Vewy.”
“’s he ready?”
“’sss time yet?”
“Yes.”
Louis sighed and stuffed the cloth into the pocket of his pants: “Time sssur’ fliesss when you hasss fun, knew that boy?”
Yes, he knew that. Knew that very well.
He nodded, hiding the impatience that was starting to shimmer in his veins.
“He’sss ready ‘n’ the g’ardsss too.”
“Don’t need ‘em. Gonna do this myself.”
“Jared, holds a minute thewe sss’n.”
“Louis, don’t…” don’t disobey me, don’t get in my way, don’t make me have to kill you.
His hand was already creeping slowly behind his back to grab hold of the dagger there, but Louis’ shoulders dropped and Jared knew the man would fold.
“Ehhh’ll sssee ya out. I’ll make sssu’e yur whip’ll be ready for ya.”
“You go do that.”
He started to walk towards where Jensen was, ignoring Louis’ mumbles about sick son’s of bitches who have to do everything themselves and not giving others any chance to play.
Jared wanted to puke, but he set his face into hard lines, collected and emotionless, cruelty in his eyes when he approached the two guards.
“Leave.”
The guards didn’t even breathe when they collected their weapons and left.
Jared shook his head.
Morons.
Jensen was now a shivering mess on the floor, still curled up, still showing his back to whoever was standing at the entrance to his ‘cell’.
No one would have touched him; the guards, Louis, not really. Jared was sure of it because they all knew that Jared loved to be the first one to bleed people who found themselves tied to his pillar and under his whip.
One guard had made a mistake once, touching a prisoner that was Jared’s… that guard was food for the worms now.
He walked to the man and crouched down, placing his hand on Jensen’s side again, just like before.
“Hey,” He whispered and flinched when Jensen did, “’s just me.”
“’m not deaf, could hear your crap clink miles away.”
“Yeah, keep holding to that feistiness.”
“Screw you.”
Jensen’s voice was hoarse, skin soaking wet and cold to the touch.
Jared ran his hand up towards Jensen’s armpit, then down the man’s thigh, up again around to get under Jensen’s legs to his chest and stomach. His hand was hot, he was always too hot and he wanted to give some of that heat to the man lying before him, wanting to create some friction to make the shivers stop running up and down Jensen’s body.
He didn’t stop touching when he said: “You ready to go?”
“’s that an actual question or just a polite order, because the answer is no.”
Jared smiled: “Take it as you wish, man, but you know what it really is.”
“Shit.”
Jared’s hand stopped, fingers splayed wide across Jensen’s lower back, feeling the man lean into his touch.
“I don’t want to.” Jensen whispered, broken and fragile voice that made Jared close his eyes and sigh: “I know.”
A shudder ran up Jensen’s back, one that Jared couldn’t stop, not even with the heat of his hand.
“Jensen, you have to trust me. Hey come on, turn around, let me look at ya.”
He put pressure on Jensen’s side, trying to make the man roll over, turn so that they would be able to look each other in the eye, speak to each other without words too.
Jensen did; rolled over, letting his hand fall between Jared’s spread knees, gripping at Jared’s pants by his thigh.
Now Jared shuddered and clenched his jaw. He had to stay strong. Had to stay at the top here.
“I do, but… sixty?”
Jared wanted to hit his head on the wall and die bleeding on the floor. It would be much easier.
Sixty was the lowest he could get from the King, who wanted a hundred and sixty, but Jared calmly explained that so many lashes would kill Jensen before the fun would have even started.
That had the King rethink hard about his order.
Jared knew exactly how to play the King, knew the King better than Dean Morgan knew himself and it was easy to get sixty out of him. It was like taking candy from a dead man.
“The king’ll know if I do less.”
“Shit, shit, shit.”
“Listen to me, listen… sixty is not that much, okay? It’ll end before it’ll even start and you know it.”
Jared was lying and they both knew it.
“Shit.”
“Yeah, you said that already.”
Jensen licked his lips: “Shit.”
Jared smiled a sad smile: “Yeah… come on, we have to go.”
He pulled the man apart; rearranging his limbs so that he was able to pull him up on his own feet. Shaky as they were.
Jensen felt weak in his arms, weak as a kitten.
“What did they do to you?”
“You care?”
That one stung.
“I can kill ‘em.”
Jensen smirked: “No, you can’t. Not anymore.”
That felt… good actually.
He picked up a pair of pants that were lying forgotten in the corner, where whoever brought Jensen in threw them to wait for just this occasion.
“Come on, let’s put these pants on you, can’t have the kids see your junk.”
“Yeah, but they can see the flesh fall from my back.”
Jared cringed.
“Don’t even go there.”
“Don’t wanna go anywhere, really.”
“Jensen…”
“Don’t…”
Jared bit his lip: “Fine.” and helped Jensen step into the pants: “Lean on me,” tying them with a string, brushing his knuckles on Jensen’s dick.
He wanted… to touch more, lick and suck, taste and have.
He cleared his throat and whispered: “We good?” into Jensen’s hair when the man tried to stand fully on his feet.
“Never been better.”
“Good, now just pretend that you hate my guts and scream a few times, when we’ll go out to the square.”
“Don’t think that’ll be a problem, because I do hate you right now,” he groaned, “so fucking much.”
“Yeah okay, work with that anger.”
Jensen huffed out a ‘fuck you’ that was muted by Jared’s neck, gripped the hood of Jared’s cloak with his shaky hand and leaned on the knight.
They hadn’t made a step before Jensen whispered: “Jared?”
“Yeah?”
“I hate this… I hate this so much.”
“I know, just… man up. Remember what I taught you, okay? Just... just ignore everything, see what you wanna see and just… just trust me here, okay man?”
Jensen tightened the fingers that were loosing themselves in the soft, velvety fabric of Jared’s cloak: “I trust you.”
“And that’s all you need to do, alright?”
“Mhm…”
“Everything else is on me, okay?”
Jensen was quiet all the way down the dungeon hallway… it was a tight fit for them, the walls closing in on them, the darkness becoming oily and thick and Jared was grateful for it, because that meant that whoever was watching them, couldn’t see how he held Jensen. Close to him. Too close to him.
Jensen shuffled his feet slowly, leaning heavily on Jared’s side, gripping the soft velvet of the knight’s hood with fingers numb from fear.
He lost his balance once, when he stepped on something with his bare feet, something soft and slippery. They stopped for a few seconds, just long enough for two deep breaths and then moved on.
They could both hear men whimpering and mumbling, some groaning out words that made no sense to either of them… men already gone insane, gone and locked themselves in their minds… some of that was on Jared too. He had some of the men in the dungeon under the crack of his whip a few days ago… tore flesh off their backs and made then scream and pass out.
Made one die.
He swallowed down the bile already rising up his throat… he knew that he would never be able to erase that part of his life, no matter how many penances he buys from the priests, because God… God doesn’t forgive things like that.
“Jared, ‘s all ready fo’ ya.”
He pushed Jensen away from him, making the man trip over his feet, at the sound of Louis’ voice coming further down the hall, and he just hoped that the man didn’t see anything, because he’d really hate to kill the only friend he really had here in the castle.
Jensen stumbled away, but Jared caught him just in time, before the man could fall on his side, probably crack some ribs in the process and pushed him forward, back to chest, like a guard leading a prisoner to his fate. This way, Jensen would be able to lean on him if his legs would give under his nerves.
“Louis, we’re coming.”
He put his hand on Jensen’s back and pushed him forward, slowly and whispered: “Easy.” on Jensen’s nape.
The shouting and cheers of people that were waiting in the main square was becoming louder and louder closer they stumbled to the door that lead from the dungeons to the square and Jared knew that all the muscles in Jensen’s body wanted to fight… turn around, hit and kick and run.
But he knew that Jensen wouldn’t do that. Not now. Not so close to freedom.
The guards at the door wore serious expressions, but Jared knew better. They were anxious, the thrill of watching a man get whipped already running through their systems.
He wanted to kill them. With his bare hands, just… grip their heads, make a fast turn and snap their necks. But instead he pushed at Jensen: “Go.” making the man stumble and almost fall on his nose.
Jared winced deep in his mind, but didn’t show any feelings on his face.
This was his job, this was what he did, this was what he was good at, this was what he was trained for.
He had to be at the top of his game to pull this off. He had to be.
“Open the door, you fools.”
He snapped and pushed Jensen through the open door, right into the hot afternoon sun that was still relentlessly beating up the dirt floor.
“Walk!”
He kept his eyes on Jensen’s back, muscles locked up so tight, skin stretched and soaking wet with a few bruises on his sides… someone had touched him, someone had touched Jensen before he got to him… he saw red for a while, but took a deep breath and walked after Jensen towards the pillar, where life or death would be decided.
The loud cheers almost knocked him off his feet when they fully stepped into the main square, and if he wouldn’t have been used to it, he would have fallen on his ass.
But he was used to it. This was his home. This square was a place he spend a lot of time on, spilled a lot of blood and excited the masses into an almost catatonic state with how – and this is something the people said – beautifully he could’ve whipped a person.
He closed his eyes… it was just his job, a way towards his future. Nothing else.
He nudged Jensen towards the pillar, wanting so badly to just be able to run away, grab Jensen and run.
The crowd was going crazy, whistles and screaming and yelling words Jared was pretty sure would need a lot of money to the priest to make the sin of them go away.
He ignored it all. The heat of the sun, the noise, the sand underneath his shoes, the cloak that made him sweat buckets… he ignored it all and hoped Jensen did too.
He pushed Jensen to the pillar, ignoring a low grunt that came from the man and grabbed the rope he had tied to a small ring above Jensen’s head, just a few hours ago.
“Hands…”
He plastered himself to Jensen’s shaking back, giving the man some support, a hard chest to lean on and Jensen took the offer, leaning heavily back, relaxing completely.
“You’re gonna be okay.” he whispered softy.
He grabbed Jensen’s forearms and lifted the man’s arms, stretching them up as far as they would go, tying them by their wrists, making sure the knots were secure enough; not tying too tight and not too loose. He didn’t want Jensen to hurt himself by rubbing his wrists raw and he didn’t want Jensen to dislocate his shoulder if he should pass out.
He leaned closer to Jensen’s ear while still tying the knots and whispered, for their ears only, hiding his moving lips with his long bangs: “If you need to puke, don’t fight it, just let it go, okay. If you piss yourself or shit yourself, don’t worry. If you pass out, I’m gonna have to pour water on you to wake you up, so try to hold on as long as you can. Don’t forget to breathe and if you need to scream, just do it, alright? Don’t hold anything in, it’ll just make you feel worse.”
“Shit, shit, shit…” Jensen whimpered.
“Shhh… quiet.”
The knots were tied perfectly, but his hand lingered on Jensen’s for a second too long and he could hear the King’s voice over all the other people’s voices; deep and booming, calling out: “Move it, Jared!!”
He called back: “Yes, my Lord!!”
The words burned his mouth.
He pulled a piece of a shirt out of his pocket, a shirt he had grown out of three years ago but wanted to… he just wanted to.
“Open up.”
The look he got from Jensen when he raised his head up to look at him made his heart drop down to his feet, but this was what he did. All the time and he couldn’t stop now. Not now when it was most important.
“Ackles! Open your mouth!”
And that was when things went to shit.
“Nononono, no,” Jensen started to shake his head left and right, fighting the rope that held him secure, bucking up and squirming away, trying to escape from Jared at his back, from the crowd all around them, from the pillar and the rope, screaming, “no, NO!!!”
“Ackles!!!”
If the King’s voice could carry through the crowd, booming like a cannonball, then Jared’s voice could silence the crowd; make everyone shut their mouth in fear of what he would do to them.
Jensen stilled. Everyone stilled. Life on the square held its breath.
And Jared smiled, because he knew, he knew that tone of voice made Jensen compliant every time, be it whispered or yelled. It worked every time.
“Open your damn mouth!”
Jensen did and Jared wanted to touch him, to reassure him that everything would really be alright, to stop fighting and just… get this over with.
He slipped the fabric into Jensen’s mouth: “Bite down,” feeling the man’s teeth grip the fabric: “Good, ‘s good. Now keep your tongue under it, don’t worry about getting your spit all over ya, we’ll clean that up later. And you can puke, just let it all flow out to the floor.”
He wanted to lean forward and kiss the stretched lips better, but couldn’t, because more than a hundred pairs of eyes were on them and one wrong move… they would both be dead before they would draw in their next breath.
“Sh’t, Ja’ed… sh’tt…” there was panic and a silent sob in Jensen’s muffled voice that Jared tried to ignore.
He tied the shirt behind Jensen’s head, whispering: “Go somewhere in your head, just… go. I’ll bring you back later, I swear, just trust me, I swear.”
Then he turned around and walked away.
CHAPTER 2 _II_ CHAPTER 4