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Comforts of Carnality

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"Jamie. Jamie? Wake up, Sleeping Beauty, you're almost home."

Jamie blinked his eyes open. The sun was just beginning its descent, casting the carriage in a yellow glow, and he was drooling on John's knee and John's hand was buried in his curls. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, glancing out the window. They were just passing Hopetoun House, about five miles from Helwater, and he felt a thrill run through him. They would be back in time to give William a riding lesson before his supper, if the family allowed it.
He turned back to John and noticed he was watching him, a sad smile playing at his mouth.

Now that they were finally, finally within shouting distance of William, everything Jamie had pushed away for the last week came flooding to the surface and he suddenly had to grasp John's knee to keep himself upright. This was it. Once they were at Helwater, the charade would begin again, Jamie would be a servant and John would be a guest of the family he served; and tomorrow John would be leaving, Jamie would be alone again, the dreams of Claire would come back.
Willy, Willy, he thought, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose. It's all for William.

"Hey," John said, sensing his distress. "Hey, are you alright?"
Jamie opened his eyes and forced himself to smile. "Fine, lad. Just a turn. I'm fine."
John eyed him skeptically, but let it go with a laugh. "Why do you still call me 'lad'? You know I'm well past that age now."
Jamie smiled and very annoyingly pinched his cheek. "Ye'll always be a lad to me, William Grey, second son of Viscount Melton. A scrawny lad who didna have the sense God gave him, and attempted to take down a man twice his size," Jamie started to laugh a bit, "And who verra brazenly threatened a room full of men twice his size." He could barely speak now, he was laughing so hard, and John's scowl only made him laugh harder. "Ye were such a wee thing! So bawdy when ye said 'I hope to discharge that debt, and then I WILL kill you!' Ye looked exactly as ye do now."

John was staring icy blue daggers at him, a stark contrast to the red burning his cheeks. "My voice was never that high pitched," he said stonily and turned to sulk out the window. "And to think, that scrawny lad with no sense was going to invite you to his room tonight. How fortunate that I've grown up."
Jamie thought he had truly hurt John, and was about to apologize, but he saw the grin John was trying to hide out the window.
"Nay, I will no' come to yer room tonight," he said, and John's face fell. Jamie grabbed his face roughly and pressed a kiss to his mouth. "I was hoping ye'd come to the barn instead."

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As soon as they turned onto the path to Helwater, Jamie assumed the air of a child about to meet his first pony, and John could not help smiling at his enthusiasm.
Even from this distance, he could see the family gathered in front of the house to greet them, and William was noticeably jumping up and down. He saw Lady Isobel attempt to reign the boy in, but he kicked at her and flopped on the ground. John laughed at this, but saw Jamie was shaking his head.
"They dinna discipline the wean a bit," he said. "He'll grow up spoilt, mark my words."
"He has your temperament," John told him.
He expected Jamie to laugh, but he looked startled. He thought he knew why and said
"Don't worry. All boys his age act that way. Nobody would jump to any conclusions."
"Thank Christ he has his mother's hair," Jamie murmured, and John had to agree, had thought the same thing himself.

They were stopping in front of the house now, and any discomfort Jamie had felt a moment ago had clearly faded. With one last glance between them, John nodded and stepped from the carriage, leaving Jamie to exit behind him after an appropriate amount of time. William, however, cared not for propriety. He sprang from Isobel's grasp, shouting "Mac! Mac!"
and scrambled into the carriage. He almost fell in the process, and Jamie's big hands emerged and scooped him up.
He stepped onto the lawn holding the boy in his arms, his little head resting on his shoulder, and in that moment, John would have sold his soul to take the both of them in the carriage and far, far away from here. France, perhaps. They both spoke excellent French. They could teach William easily.

He shook his head to clear away the mad thought, passing off his laugh as one directed at the child, and turned his back on them in his great act of indifference.
"Lady Dunsany," he greeted her warmly with a hug, then moved to shake Lord Dunsany's hand. He tried to give Isobel a familial nod, but she had moved into his arms so quickly he had no choice but to return the embrace.
"Welcome back, Mackenzie," she said to Jamie, taking William from his arms, and John saw the pain flash across his face as he handed the boy over.
"I was wondering if ye would wish me to give the lad a lesson before the afternoon is out?" he asked her quietly. John thought he saw something pass between the two of them, and Isobel nodded before turning back to him, now passing the boy off to the nanny as he wailed.

"Lord John," she said, "I just acquired an excellent book I'd love to show you."
He tried for his most polite smile and turned instead to her father.
"Actually, Lord Dunsany, I have something I wish to discuss you, and I'm afraid we should do so at the earliest convenience. I need to set off in the morning."
"Oh, my dear boy," Dunsany said, and John managed to steer him toward the house and away from Isobel as he did, "must you leave so soon?"

The truth was, he had no reason to leave so soon, and he had no idea where to go from here. But he had thought about this much since he had decided to take the journey to escort Jamie and arrange his hire. If he were to stay, it would only be torture to have to behave as if Jamie were just a former prisoner, a servant. He always had difficulty finding excuses to find and speak to Jamie on his visits, and he had no reason to expect he'd do any better this time. So he had decided to get the worst part over with as quickly as possible and not draw out the inevitable.

"I do wish I could stay longer," he replied to Dunsany, "but I have some business in London that needs my attention."
"Well, then, we won't keep you any longer than you can stay. What is it you need to discuss with me?"
They had reached Dunsany's office now, and John shut the door and pulled the folded paper from his breast pocket.
"It's about Mr. Fraser," he said.....

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Jamie strolled into the barn at midnight, the time he and John had agreed upon, and spread his blanket across the hay.
He checked outside to make sure nobody was about, then decided to move the lantern further into the barn. After a few seconds of sitting and waiting, he started to pace. His palms were sweating, and he started to worry that perhaps John were not coming. He shook his head at the idea. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, but upon giving it some thought, he realized it wasn't John's imminent arrival that had him anxious, but his departure.

The fact was, he had grown attached to John in ways he had neither anticipated nor had wanted to. It was always meant to be about two lonely people finding comfort in eachother, but the events of the last several weeks had spiraled so far beyond either of their control, and they had sought eachother time and again. Jamie had grown accustomed to John's presence, his friendship, their banter. Of course, he had also grown used to making love to him, waking in bed with him, ideas that still shocked him to his core even now. He did not want to let him go, and the very moment he allowed himself to acknowledge that, he decided that he must. It was better, he could see now, for John to leave at first light. He had always hated prolonged goodbyes.

John appeared in the open doorway of the barn and Jamie felt his worries fade away at the sight of him. He was dressed in only his shirt and breeches, a midnight blue cape over his shoulders and a cloth draped around his neck for warmth, and his hair was loose and damp. He was standing in the doorway, gazing about the barn, as if afraid to enter. His eyes met Jamie's and he smiled.
"So, back at the beginning are we?"
"I thought it fitting," Jamie replied, returning his smile.

John moved to sit on the blanket Jamie had laid, and he joined him.
"Gosh, the last time we were here..." John breathed, and Jamie chuckled. "We were not so fond of eachother then, were we?"
"Nay," Jamie said. He still felt a terrible guilt for what had happened that day, but what had come after was almost worth it. The understanding they had each gained of eachother had bloomed here.
"Nay, I did no' like ye verra much at all. But I didna ken ye then, either. I had decided in my mind who and what ye were, and I was verra wrong."
"Well, for what it may be worth, I didn't really know you then, either." John said, laying back on the blanket. "I certainly never saw you as very...tender. Perhaps that's why I took such a liking to you."

"Ye mean to say ye dinna like tenderness in yer lovers?" Jamie asked. He didn't like the sound of that, didn't like envisioning John with men like...
"No, I do, actually. Well, to be perfectly honest, I have a very particular type." Jamie raised a brow at him, asking him to elaborate, and John smiled, bashfully ducking his head and saying, "I suppose...I tend to...I prefer my men...large. Strong. But...sweet. There's something about seeing strong men bend to my will and turn soft at my touch that..." He looked up at Jamie now and saw him staring at him in a mix of shock, humor, and desire. "...excites me," he finished, blushing.

Jamie was smiling coyly at him.
"And so ye met me, a dirty, gruff, murderous, barbaric Scottish prisoner and thought to yerself 'that could make an interesting change'? Or perhaps I was the epitome of a challenge?"
John burst into laughter and, instead of shushing him, Jamie got up to close and latch the barn door. He sat back down next to John, closer this time, and waited for an answer.

"No, that wasn't it. Well, perhaps. I don't know. I think...I think I was trying to protect myself. I was certainly physically drawn to you...to be perfectly honest, I found you very attractive the night we met at Corrieyairack. But it's much easier to keep things strictly physical when the man you are trying to seduce hates you."
"And why would ye want to be with a man that ye thought hated you?" Jamie asked, once again concerned about what sorts of things John got up to when he wasn't around.
"Let's just say I wasn't at Ardsmuir for the fresh sea air. There was an...incident. It was a prison for me, too. At the time, it was much safer not to allow hearts to get involved. Of course, had I known how my attempt at seduction would end, it would not have been my heart I'd have worried over." John grinned at him, their volatile past now a humorous anecdote to him, but Jamie could not return it. Pieces of a puzzle were beginning to slot themselves together in his mind, fragments of conversations they'd had over the years.

John rarely spoke openly about his private affairs, though he did unflinchingly answer every question Jamie had asked. Jamie had always rationalized his curiosity in the matter as polite interest in his friend, but now, sitting together in the place where he had once all but admitted to being afraid of John, he realized he was afraid for him. He had once asked John how he went about soliciting the attentions of men, and he had spoken of whispers, glances, touches of the hand, like that night at Ardsmuir. Signals that men of his ilk had to learn and distinguish. Signals that he had said could be misread, could lead to people like Jamie threatening to murder him. Jamie's mind flashed to another conversation that had taken place in this barn, the one that had lead to the rage and the slander and the violence, the one about his stepbrother. John had been the one who had caught his lover in the act of being had by a fellow soldier, and he had had to turn his back on him and allow the law to have its say. And now he was telling Jamie he'd been sent to Ardsmuir for some kind of indiscretion. He remembered John telling him of brothels, molly walks, alleyways and quick, hushed meetings with men he'd only just met, out in the open, because one cannot take a lover to one's bed. John preferring men so much larger than himself. John coming home disheveled, smelling of another man, covered in bruises from their lust. Jesus, how dangerous was this lifestyle of his?

John was watching him, and Jamie realized he'd been staring at him for some time as he contemplated these realizations. He reached out and stroked his thumb over John's cheek, ignoring the clench in his stomach he was starting to feel every time it hit him that he was so close to saying goodbye to something he'd never wanted to become attached to in the first place. He needed more information, needed to know that John would be safe when he left Jamie behind and sought comfort and affection elsewhere.

"I just realized I never asked ye," he said now, "whatever happened in the matter concerning yer stepbrother? Were ye...able to...?"
John gave him a look of surprise, probably wondering what had brought them to this, but, as always, answered his question.
"Oh, yes. He's fine. He's...somewhere. I...um...well...I sort of arranged a jail break on his behalf." John shifted uncomfortably and wouldn't quite meet Jamie's eye. Jamie wondered if he were uncomfortable talking about his former lover or if it was because he, a former warden himself and Officer of the Crown, had participated in a prisoner's escape, and he couldn't help the smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
"John Grey," he teased, "ye are a romantic, aren't ye? I only wish ye had been able to get to know my Claire. The two o' ye could have started a business together, breaking people out of prison for their loved ones."

"I assure you, it wasn't to do with romance at all. I simply...owed it to him. It could have been me in that cell. We could have been caught together. And..." He found a loose thread on the bottom of his breeches and started to tug on it. "I never quite forgave myself for leaving him there that night. My friend had urged me to flee, to not be the one to arrest my own brother. But that's not why I followed his advice. I was angry, and hurt. I felt betrayed. So...I left him there. To fend for himself." Tears were welling in his eyes, and Jamie looked away as he wiped at them, knowing how much John hated to shed them in front of anyone. "I could have tried to persuade the witnesses to look the other way, forget what they saw. Hell, I could have bribed them under the pretense of protecting my family's honor. That would have been less suspicious than abandoning him. But I allowed my wounded pride to send a man to his death simply because he had fucked someone else. I had to fix that."

"I dinna think it was yer pride that was wounded," Jamie said, taking John's hand in his own. "Did ye love him verra much?"
"I was starting to," John mumbled. Then he took a deep breath and met Jamie's eyes.
"What makes you ask about Percy now?"
"I suppose I was just wondering if there were any...legal recourse, perhaps...ye had employed. If there were one available."
"A legal defense? Against sodomy? No, not really. You could argue that it didn't take place, but not when there are witnesses. That's...that's about it."
Jamie chewed his thumb as he thought on that. "What about that other feller of yers? The friend. From before?"

John gave him a look as if he had just declared he'd like to feast on some of the hay they sat on and pulled his hand away. "What about him?"
"Do ye think ye might go back to him?"
"I...I couldn't possibly say. I doubt so very much. Jamie, what is this about?"
Jamie knew he would be called out on his interrogation eventually and decided to be honest in his response.
"I...I want to know that ye will be safe. When ye leave here, I ken ye will...take other lovers. And ye ken I have no quarrel with that. I dinna have any claim to ye. But...ye will be careful, will ye no'? To not be caught? And...and be careful with the lovers ye take. This world you walk in...there are dangerous men in those shadows."

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John hadn't known what to expect from this conversation, but that wasn't it.
This again? he thought to himself.
Have I done something to make everyone around me believe I am running around recklessly bedding every man I meet?
Still though, the earnest sentiment behind Jamie's inquisition touched him. He quickly grabbed Jamie by the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.
"First of all," he said with a sigh, "I have no intention of leaving you here and immediately seeking my next conquest, or seeking out old ones. Secondly, I appreciate your concern, and I understand where it comes from. But my world isn't exactly brimming with the type of men you are thinking of. And I have a lot of experience at practicing discretion. True, I haven't always kept my secrets as well I'd like, but I assure you, I flaunt nothing."
"John, I didna mean to imply..."
"And finally..." John cut him off, holding up a finger, "yes. I promise. I'll be careful."
"That's all I ask," Jamie said quietly.

"And now," John said, moving over to Jamie and straddling his lap. Jamie raised his brows in surprise but wrapped his arms around John's waist regardless.
"Can we say a proper goodbye?"
Instead of answering, Jamie gripped John's hips tightly and rolled him onto his back, covering his body with his own and quickly latching his mouth onto John's.
After several seconds of allowing Jamie to coax his mouth open and explore its depths with his tongue, John pulled back and breathlessly said "I'll take that as a sign that you are amiable," and seized a lungful of air as Jamie's head dipped and captured his lips once more.

Jamie was pressing John into the hay with all his weight, his hands were everywhere, squeezing John's hips, running down his thighs and pulling his legs up, tugging at his neck cloth as his mouth searched for more skin to press his kisses to. John could barely move under him to play along, so he decided to just lay back and allow Jamie to push and pull his malleable body however he wanted.

When he finally tugged the cloth free and discarded it somewhere over his shoulder, Jamie set to work ravishing John's throat. John writhed as his mouth came down on a particularly tender spot of thin skin over his collarbone, and he felt Jamie smirk as he licked and sucked at it, then licked a trail up behind his ear and sucked on the even more sensitive spot there. It was as if he had spent the last several weeks mapping John's body, archiving every inch of flesh that could make John whinge.
His left hand was in John's hair, tenderly massaging his scalp, and his right hand was alternating between undoing his breeches and running soothing circles on the thigh John had hitched over his waist. All the while, that hot wet mouth of his was now nipping and suckling it's way across his throat, and his hips were rolling oh so slowly, digging his painfully hard cock into John's. John was dazed and completely at his mercy, and he loved it.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall all the way back, too overwhelmed by the feelings covering his body, and let Jamie work him in all the ways he now knew best. After several seconds of Jamie's gentle, teasing kisses, he felt him latch on to that spot by his ear again. Suddenly, he bit down hard, ran his tongue over the spot, then bit down again and began to suck as if trying to draw blood. John's back arched and he cried out, seizing Jamie's curls and tugging sharply at them.
"Ah! Jamie! Jamie! I can't cover that spot with my cloth, you know."

Jamie pulled back and John gasped at the predatory gleam in his eye. He opened his mouth to say something, but Jamie smirked in a rather disconcerting way and before John could let out a syllable, his mouth was filled with Jamie's tongue. His hands were now gripping John's waist, digging into the bruises left there this morning and aching oh so sweetly, and the two of them began to rut together like the animals Jamie tended.

John's head swam. The barn was sweltering, Jamie's weight was nearing on too much, the constant pressure of his grip and their pelvises pushing against eachother, and his mouth pressed so tightly against his own, practically cutting off his air supply...he was dizzy with it and if it didn't stop soon, he was either going to pass out or make a mess of his breeches.

He pressed a hand to Jamie's chest and pushed against him, but his feeble attempt was quickly proven to be in vain. Jamie growled and snatched his hand away, lacing their fingers together and pressing it down onto the blanket while driving his hips into John's even harder.
"Christ, John," he whispered hotly into his ear, his head buried in John's neck, "what've ye done to me? Do ye ken what ye do to me? I want ye so badly. I want...ah!"

John had pulled his hand free and seized Jamie by the front of his shirt. He smashed his lips against his lover's and, with all his strength, shoved him back into a sitting position and then pulled away, scooting across the blanket to put some space between them.

They sat staring at eachother, panting hard, and John felt a shiver roll through him at the look Jamie was giving him. His teeth were bared, his breaths coming out in short huffs. His lips were red and swollen, his cheeks flushed, and his curls had gone wild. He looked at John like a bull about to charge and the sounds coming from him were enough to seal the idea firmly in John's mind.

John eyed him warily and held up a hand in defense. "Jamie...for the love of God, take your trousers off." Jamie obliged immediately, standing and stripping his clothes off like they burned his skin, and John lay back and finished unlacing his breeches. Jamie crawled back onto the blanket and helped him pull them off, along with his shirt. Once they were both fully bared to eachother though, Jamie softened.

His eyes went wide as he took in the bruises covering John's hips.
"It's alright. They don't hurt," he told him, thinking his hesitancy was due to his usual guilt whenever he got rough with John.
But as Jamie glanced up from John's waist to his face and back again, he realized the look in his eye wasn't guilt.
Jamie licked his lips and said "I ken I ought to worry about that, but at the moment I was just thinking how much I like that ye'll leave here with my fingerprints." He glanced up at John again, searching his face for any sign of offense and, finding none, dipped his head down to press his mouth against them.
John lay his head back with a sigh and rested a hand in Jamie's curls, letting him do as he pleased for a moment or two, but he did have other plans, and when Jamie's mouth started to make its way toward his very eager member, he sat up and pulled him with him.

"I do believe it's my turn to do that," John told him, coaxing him to lay down and moving between his thighs. To his surprise, Jamie had taken to pleasuring him with his mouth like a fish takes to water. But John had spent many years perfecting his skill, and as this was their last night together, he wanted Jamie to remember just how good he was at it.

Jamie's cock was hard and flushed, precome already starting to pearl at the tip, and John flicked it with the tip of his tongue, enjoying the way Jamie moaned and bit off a curse. John grinned up at him before wrapping a hand around the base and sucking the head into his mouth, tongue swirling along the slit. Jamie made a low growling noise and thread his right hand through John's hair, holding still as he licked and sucked and stroked him, but the heavy rasp of his ragged breathing, the tension in his thighs, and the sharp tightening of his hand in John's hair were evidence enough of how aroused he was.

John hummed in a bit of self-satisfaction and lowered his head further, trying to take as much of Jamie into his mouth as he could. If the constant ache in his bottom after every night of lovemaking weren't enough to remind John of just how thick Jamie's member was, this certainly was. His lips stretched so tightly over the hard flesh that drool pooled in the corners of his mouth and dribbled onto the gorgeous nest of copper curls.

Jamie's mouth hung open as he stared at him in wonder, gently coaxing John to take him further, smirking a little when he struggled. "Do ye enjoy that, mo ghille milis? Stretchin' yer mouth around me like so? Does it remind ye of what's to come later?" John moaned at the sheer filth of Jamie's newfound talent for pillow talk and reached a hand down to stroke himself, just enough to take the edge off.
He pulled off Jamie gently, enjoying the way his heavy cock fell onto his stomach, leaving a smear of precum and saliva, and fixed him with a hungry gaze.

Jamie sat up as well and reached for him. John climbed happily into his lap and sighed as Jamie pulled him in for a kiss, running a hand down his back and grasping a cheek in his large hand.
"Ye dinna ken how bad I want ye, John,"
Jamie husked, taking little nips at John's throat between his words. "I had ye not twelve hours ago and still, thoughts of laying ye down in this hay have been filling my mind all day. I canna get enough of yer sweet arse."

John groaned and ground his cock against Jamie's, burying his head in Jamie's neck and whispering in his ear "You can have my arse whenever you want it."
With a low growl, Jamie flipped John onto his back and hastily shimmied down his body, lifted his legs over his shoulders, and disappeared. John felt one cheek being shoved to the side, and something warm and soft and wet was pressing against his entrance. He threw his head back and moaned, snatching handfuls of Jamie's copper curls as Jamie hummed and probed John open with his tongue.

"Ye're so open for me, John," he whispered, sounding awed and incredibly aroused by the fact. "Ye canna wait to get me inside, can ye, balach milis?" John shook his head feebly, unable to form words at the moment as Jamie had dipped his head back down and was now flicking his tongue wildly over John's rim. "Where is your oil, lad?" He asked, raising his head again.
"In...in the pocket...of my breeches," John replied breathlessly, trying to swallow what felt like a wad of cotton in his mouth.

Jamie pulled the vial oil out and unstoppered it, pouring a generous amount of the cypress oil onto his fingers. He scooted further into the V between John's legs and bent over him, using his left arm to prop himself up and pressing a sweet kiss to his mouth as his other hand reached down. Unfortunately for both of them, the moment Jamie attempted to slide his middle finger into John, he hissed and pulled away before he could stop himself.

Jamie looked down at him in surprise and worry and John felt his stomach clench. He'd been aching all day and, knowing how Jamie was about causing him pain, had even followed his advice and asked Tom Byrd to find him some arnica oil. It had helped quite a bit and he had thought he'd be able to hide the pain, but obviously not.

John reached up and tried to pull Jamie into another kiss, wiggling his bottom down and nudging it against his hand. Jamie did allow the kiss but pulled his hand away with a chuckle and a tsk.
"Jamie," John practically whinged. He blushed quite a bit when he realized he sounded as petulant as Willy and cleared his throat.
"Do ye have something ye want to tell me?" Jamie asked, smiling down at him.
"No."
"John." Jamie reached down again and pressed the tip of his finger past John's rim and tugged on it, eliciting a sharp whinge and John pulled away again.

Jamie sat up and John resisted the urge to be petulant again, sitting up with him instead. "Fine," he snapped. "I'm only a bit sore. Too sore for hands, but I can take you I'm sure. Don't scoff at me. We weren't exactly gentle this morning, you know. You didn't seem to mind so much then."
Jamie's teasing smile fell and he gave John a scolding look. "Aye, I got a bit rough with ye this morning. And I ken ye liked it. But now ye canna stand my touch. Do ye think I'm gonna hold ye down and force my cock in ye?"

John tried to hold back the moan at Jamie's words but he failed terribly. He felt the blush return to his cheeks and waited for Jamie to flee in disgust. He didn't expect to see his eyes glaze over and his jaw to drop and his breathing to speed up and shallow out, taking on that bull-like bearing again as he crawled over John once more and pressed him back onto the blanket.

"Did I say something particularly arousing, My Lord?" His voice was deep and throaty, and John shivered as he grazed his lips over his shoulder. John knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he shouldn't be so aroused by those words. Once upon a time, he and Jamie had stood in this barn and screamed at eachother. Jamie had accused John of being a predator, John had threatened to make Jamie scream, and Jamie had dared him to try. Their darkest secrets had come out in the wake of their riled emotions, that they had both been held down and forced at some point in their pasts. And now they were here, and John wanted nothing more than for Jamie to do what he had threatened him with that awful day.

But Jamie seemed to want it too, judging from the way he was grinding his cock onto John's, smearing them both with sticky fluid. He wasn't repulsed, and that, more than anything, the trust that had finally been built between them, had John arching his back, rising to meet Jamie's thrusts and whimpering into his kiss.

Without answering, he reached for the oil Jamie had nestled in their bundle of clothing and poured a generous amount into his hand. He rubbed it between his palms and reached down to grip Jamie, savoring the small grunt he let out at the contact, and used the other to smear his own cleft and thighs. Jamie eyed him warily as John moved to position his cock at his entrance, but went with him obediently.
"Are ye sure about this, bonnie lad? There are other ways we can pleasure eachother tonight, ye ken."
"Yes, I know. I taught you all of them. And yes, I'm sure. I want you. I need you. Please, just trust me. If it's too much I'll tell you, I swear. Now please, please, take me." He knew he was begging, knew it was pathetic, but he couldn't stop.

He was still holding Jamie's member against his hole and trying to squirm his way onto it. Jamie growled and seized John by the wrists, laying them above his head and holding them there. John moaned again and something flashed in Jamie's eyes. John couldn't tell if it was shock or fear or arousal.
"Christ, ye wee devil, I'll give ye what ye want." He let go of John's wrists and moved his hands to his knees instead, lifting them over his shoulders and practically bending John in half as he pinned him by his wrists again. "But I swear to Christ Almighty, ye best tell me if I do something ye dinna like. Do ye hear me, John?"

John nodded and swallowed thickly, staring up at Jamie in shock at his sudden authoritarian manner. It was...intriguing, to say the least. Frightening, to say the most. And completely, absolutely, sexy. He watched as Jamie's hand came down once more, reached for the oil, and poured a few drops directly down John's cleft, causing him to shiver. Then he was pushing against him, and John was pressing back, and for one agonizing moment, his body resisted. He saw Jamie's brow furrow and the muscles in his shoulders tense. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to relax. Just when he thought either he or Jamie were going to call quits, Jamie leaned up, pressing John's knees tighter against his chest, and used his body weight to press down.

"Oh, God," John managed to grind out before his chest tightened and he felt the head breach him with a pop. He dragged his nails down Jamie's back and tried to focus on breathing through the pain, but his lungs were fighting, and Jamie was whispering in Gaelic, and everything was hazy around the edges. Jamie was pushing further inside him now, pulling back a bit and pressing back in with his weight, taking John inch by inch.

The burning heat was spreading from John's aching rim. Up and up his legs, his thighs, his stomach, his chest. He felt his face flush and his scalp tingled. Finally, Jamie was fully seated and stroking John's hair away from his face as he kept whispering unknown words into his ear.
John clung to Jamie, his eyes still shut tightly against the onslaught of sensation,
and Jamie kissed his temple and whispered "We can stop. I'll stop. I dinna want to hurt ye. Blessed Virgin, ye're so tight. Tell me to stop."

John opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the spots that swam before them, and let out a deep breath, not realizing he'd been holding it since Jamie had fully entered him. He flexed his hips experimentally and swallowed the hiss that followed. It hurt. God it hurt. But it was bearable, and Jamie was shaking above him and this was their last night and he wanted him.

"No," he said, his voice shattered. "Don't stop. Please, God, don't stop."
He finally looked up and met Jamie's eyes, and something in him melted into a puddle. Jamie looked wrecked. He reached up and pulled him into a kiss, running his tongue over his bottom lip then accidentally biting down on it when Jamie rocked against him. Jamie whimpered but didn't break the kiss. His hips were rocking against John in a slow but steady rhythm, barely pulling out but still tugging the sensitive skin back and forth with every thrust.

After several intense seconds of letting Jamie ravish his mouth but still barely moving inside him, John broke the kiss and let his head fall back with an exasperated groan. The position Jamie held him in made it impossible to do more than simply rock against him when he pushed in. He needed more, needed to feel all of Jamie sliding through him.
"I thought you were going to hold me down and have your way?" he said, surprising himself with his bawdiness.

Jamie stilled his movements and looked at John with something akin to a parent finding their child's hand in the cookie jar.
"I've got ye bent in half with my cock about seven inches deep in yer guts and ye still find cause to sass me?" He pulled himself out further than he had and pushed hard. John groaned and snatched a handful of Jamie's hair, pulling it hard and making him cry out in shock.
"Goddammit, John!" He yelped, and reached up to untangle his hand from his curls. He took hold of John's other hand and moved both of them back above his head and held him there. "Now," he panted, "be a good lad. Ye just lay there and be still and be grateful ye're gettin' whatever I give ye. Ken?"

John gasped and for a moment the burning passion that had engulfed him faded and he felt like he was being yanked back to total clarity. John rarely let anyone have his bottom, and he had never asked to be held down while it happened. He had to be in control, he did not submit. Ever. If any other man had held him in this position and told him to be good and lay still and take it, he'd be in a panic, reaching for the blade he always carried. But all he felt now was hunger, want, need. He needed Jamie to claim him.

Jamie still wasn't moving and John knew that although he had sounded commanding, in reality he was waiting for John's consent and submission before giving them both what they wanted.
He locked eyes with his Scottish lover and nodded his head slowly. "Alright. I'll be good," he whispered.

As soon as Jamie started his slow slide in and out of him in earnest, John realized he should have been grateful for the minuscule movements from before. The pain had subsided when he was stilled, but now it was back with a vengeance. The difference was, Jamie's movements before hadn't been enough to hit that tender spot so near his entrance, but now he was dragging across it with every stroke. The combination of the ecstasy from that and the agony of being stretched beyond belief, of the adrenaline still coursing through him from Jamie's taking control and holding him down, bossing him around, and the feeling of complete surrender in its wake had John feeling suddenly exhausted, unfocused. He dropped his head and let one of his legs slip off of Jamie's shoulder.

Jamie gently lowered the other one and let go of John's wrists to run his hands sweetly over John's thighs.
"There ye go, mo ghràdh," he murmured,
pushing a strand of hair out of John's face.
"Just relax, I've got ye." He laid a kiss at John's temple and John whimpered, raising his hips slightly and bumping his leaking cock against Jamie's stomach.
He wanted to ask, to beg, Jamie to touch him, but he couldn't quite form the words. Tried to lift his own hand to tend to himself, but it fell limply at his side.

Instead he let his eyes flutter closed and did as he was told, letting Jamie take care of him in all the ways he knew best. When he opened them again, seconds or minutes later, he couldn't tell anymore, Jamie was sitting up on his knees, eyes locked on the place where their bodies joined, obviously entranced by the sight of his cock sliding smoothly in out of John's body. John knew the appeal of such a sight, was one of his favorite parts of sex with a man. He wanted to ask Jamie if he liked it, but when he opened his mouth all that came out was an embarrassingly squeaky whimper. Jamie's eyes snapped to his nonetheless and he finally seemed to remember that John needed some attention, too.

Without slowing his hips, he took up the little vial of oil once more and slicked his hand, then finally, finally, gripped John's member tightly. John let out a long moan and collapsed into a heap of melted flesh once more. Jamie was whispering all kinds of things, but John couldn't focus on any of it. Something about wanting to mark him. Yes, that must be it. He could feel teeth scraping across his ribs, something hot and wet pulling at the skin on his stomach and throat. He thought maybe it should hurt, but he couldn't feel any of that anymore.

"Talk to me, m ’aingeal milis," Jamie said some time later. "Tell me how ye feel."
John opened his eyes, couldn't remember closing them, and blinked at him. He whimpered and gave a roll of his hips, but was unable to do anything more, and he closed his eyes again.
"John?" Jamie sounded amused, but his hips were slowing. "John?" Alarmed now.
Suddenly, everything came to a stop and Jamie pulled out of him so fast he should have screamed. John felt large, rough hands tapping his face.

"John, open yer eyes. Look at me."
He didn't want it to stop, so he opened his eyes and tried to pull Jamie to him but he wouldn't budge. "Did ye fall asleep?" Jamie asked incredulously.
"No, 'm here," he managed to mumble.
"Christ, tell me ye didnae pass out from the pain." He was still holding John's face in his hands, and now he tilted it back, looking down into his eyes as if he'd see some sign of fainting or concussion there.
"Yer whole body is trembling. Why did ye no' say anything? Ye promised."
John stared up at him dazedly. He could feel what was most likely a very stupid smile plastering his face.
"Not in any pain. Can't feel it anymore. Just...want you."

He could feel himself coming 'round again, and something in him screamed not to let it happen. He didn't know what the devil had come over him, but it reminded him of many nights in his youth, like swallowing half a bottle of laudanum and stumbling into Lavender House to find somewhere to bury his cock. Using the strength he didn't have five minutes ago, he seized Jamie's rear with both hands and pulled him down on top of him. "Have me," he whispered against his shoulder.

"Oh God, John, what are ye doin' to me?" Jamie breathed. John thought he might resist again but his hand slipped between them and a second later John felt the blunt head of Jamie's member pushing into him again. The fog that had been lifting immediately began to settle again and John fell back with a sigh of contentment.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph. John, are ye drunk on my cock?"

John smiled and nodded lazily and reached down to tug at the prick that lay hard and weeping and angry across his stomach. "Alright, ye wee lech," Jamie said, pulling John into his arms and thrusting into him much harder than he had before,
"listen to me. Ye stay with me now, and I'll give ye whatever ye want, alright?"
John nodded, clinging to Jamie and biting down on his neck to hold back his whinge.
"I canna hear ye, lad."
"Y-yes. Alright."
"What do ye want?"
John whimpered again and buried his face in Jamie's neck. He couldn't figure out what he wanted. Jamie had held him on the edge so gently and for so long that the idea of actually finishing had completely eluded him. But now they both needed it.

He thought again of what an odd situation he had found himself in. He was used to leading the way in everything he did, especially when it came to sex. Now it seemed he had completely ceded control to this giant, red headed Scottish prisoner of his. The inmates have taken the asylum, he thought hysterically.
God, he had to get a grip.

Jamie seemed to sense that John still wasn't coherent enough to tell him what he wanted and asked "Do ye want me to hold ye down again?" His rough voice brought John back to his senses.
"Yes. Fuck. Hold me down and...and tell me what a good lad I am." He felt a blush color his cheeks but couldn't find it in him to care when Jamie was grinning at him like that and placing his legs over his shoulders and pinning his wrists above his head again.

"Ye are a good lad, John," he husked at him. He drew his hips back slowly, dragging the head across John's sweet spot, and slammed back home in one stroke. "So sweet when ye fall apart for me like this." He pushed in deep and circled his hips, stretching John's rim around the base and dragging out a low moan. "Ye see how good I can make ye feel when ye shut yer mouth and let me?" Three hard thrusts this time. "Ye weren't tryin' to frighten me earlier were ye? Ye were just doin' as ye were told for the first time in yer life? Layin' still and takin' what I gave you?"
John nodded silently as Jamie rocked against his hole again.

"Tell me," Jamie whispered. "Tell me how I'm the only one who gets to do this to ye."
He started to pick up a rhythm at last, pulling out slowly and pushing hard back in, but quickening by the second.
John licked his lips and managed to stutter out "Y-You're the only one. The only one who...gets to have me like this. God, Jamie, please touch me."
"Not yet, m ’aingeal milis. I'll let ye finish soon. Tell me this is mine." John gasped as Jamie suddenly grabbed a whole cheek in his hand and squeezed it hard, giving it a little smack when he let go. "Ye can share yer cock with whoever ye wish. It is a bonnie thing, and it should be appreciated properly. But tell me this arse belongs to me."

John swallowed thickly. He knew this wasn't something to discuss while they were both on the brink of orgasm, knew there would be repercussions later.
Still, he'd longed to hear Jamie say something like that for nearly a decade, and it was easier to agree to than it should have been.
"If you want it, it's yours."

Jamie let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper and he started to pound into John. John bit his lip to keep from crying out, the pain making a sharp return, but not enough to make him stop. He needed to spill his seed more than he needed to breathe.
"My arse is yours, too, John."
What?
"What? What did you...ah...say?!"
"I'll show you. Soon."
Three more brutal thrusts and Jamie was pulling John by his hips into his lap and a feral growl ripped from him. He rocked his way through his orgasm, holding a still confused John against him the whole time, then pulled out sharply, dragging his fluid with him and letting it dribble down John's cleft.

Jamie let go of John and he landed in a crumpled heap on the blanket, his own erection momentarily forgotten as his bottom clenched around the absence. But then...then Jamie lay down on his stomach in front of him and peeked out from behind his curls with a coy smile.
"I want ye to mark what's yours."
John's mouth hung open for a second before he was able to croak out another
"What?"
"I wish I could give ye what ye deserve. But even if I never can, it's yours. I want ye to finish on me."

It really shouldn't have been as easy as it was to say "I'll take that offer."
John moved over to straddle Jamie's hips and took himself in hand, aiming for the sweetest dimples he had ever seen.
"Can I see it?" he whispered, afraid he'd embarrass the man and send him running.
A flush did creep across his shoulders but still he said "Aye. Ye can do what ye like."
John knew he meant he could do what he liked within reason, but that was so much more than he'd ever dreamed to ask for.
He very gently used his thumb to pull one cheek aside and get one more peek at that sweet, tight, pink little hole, and that's all it took.

John and Jamie gasped at the same time as thick, creamy ropes of semen shot across Jamie's bottom. John struggled to catch his breath as he gave the head a few shakes, letting the last few drops land directly on Jamie's puckered skin. He rolled off with a sigh and let the shakes take him.

Jamie crawled off the blanket and for a moment, John felt an unbearable sadness at the loss. He returned in seconds, though, bearing another blanket, which he wrapped John in. He lay down next to him again and took him in his arms and neither spoke for a very long time.

"So..." Jamie said after a while. He cleared his throat and tried again. "So...do ye ken what happened to ye tonight? Has that ever happened before?"
"No," John whispered. The shaking had subsided and he was exhausted now.
"No, that...that's never happened before."
Jamie hummed and pulled John tighter to him. "And...ye're alright? I didnae make ye do anything ye didna like?"
"No. God, no. I found every second very agreeable, trust me. I think it's safe to say that was the best sex of my life."
John could practically feel Jamie'schest swell with pride and he made little contented grunts that reverberated through John's spine. He took John's chin in his fingers and pulled him in for a tender kiss, grinning against his mouth.
"Go to sleep, mo ghràdh," he said, pulling away and tucking the blanket tighter around his lover. "I'll wake ye before the sun rises."

‐--------------------------------------------------------------------

Jamie stood by the barn window and watched with dread as the sky began to pinken. It was time to wake John, time to say goodbye. He lowered his head and let the tears that had been threatening to fall throughout the entire last day flow at last.
"Sassenach," he muttered, "help me with this."

He turned with a start when he felt a hand on his shoulder. John was standing behind him, wrapped in a blanket, hair all over the place, his blue eyes as wide as saucers.
He looked like a sleepy wean and Jamie gave him a misty smile.

"Jamie? Are you alright? he asked.
Jamie cleared his throat and pulled John to him. "Fine, m ’aingeal milis. Ye dinna ken this about me...never had reason to...I'm a bit of a weeper. Pay me no mind."
It was true, Jamie wept like a woman with goodbyes. He had once cried for an hour as a teenager when he'd had to leave Castle Leoch and a girl he had known for a week. And of course that was nothing to the tears he'd shed for Claire.

John gave him a skeptical look and Jamie noticed he seemed to be a bit distraught himself as he turned and began retrieving his articles of clothing. Jamie leaned back against the wall and watched him dress, admiring one more time the lithe lines of his body and the perfect swell of his bottom, along with the marks scattered across his porcelain skin. His marks.

"I can't find my neck cloth," John muttered, kicking the hay about a bit. "You don't happen to know where you tossed it?"
Jamie smirked and pushed himself away from the wall, walking over and pretending to help him look for it. After a few seconds of fruitless searching, he wandered over to the corner behind a few bales of hay.
"It won't be over there, you chucked it over your shoulder last night," John told him.

"Ye're right," Jamie called back. "But there is something over here. Maybe ye ought to come and take a look." John appeared around the hay stack looking confused, but his eyes widened when he saw what Jamie was holding."What the devil is that?"
"No devil," Jamie told him, handing him the wriggling bundle. "One of the bitches welped two of these a few days before I left. I asked Lord Dunsany yesterday, he agreed ye should have one. I slipped out while ye were sleeping to retrieve him for ye."

Jamie's heart nearly melted at the look on John's face as he took the tiny dachshund puppy from his hands and allowed it to greedily lap at his face and nibble on his chin. "What is it, though?" he giggled.
"It's a dachshund. A badger hunter. I thought he would suit ye. They're wee but feisty. Just like his master."
"I'm not wee," John muttered, burying his face in the soft folds of skin on the puppy's neck, and Jamie let out a loud laugh, pulling them both to his chest.

 

"He's precious," John said, still caressing the pup with his chin. "Thank you"
"He'll keep ye company. Wherever ye go from here." He pulled John away and looked down at him. "And do ye ken where that might be?" Jamie knew John was expected at Argus House, but he had sensed something off about him when he'd said goodbye to his family and suspected that may not be the case.

"Caught, am I?" he asked with a grin.
"Aye. Ye canna hide anything from me anymore. I've had my tongue inside ye."
John blushed and his eyes widened.
"Jamie...Jesus, nearly in the light of day! I'm going to my cousin's, I think. I need some time away from Hal's doting and...and other...things. My cousin and her child are pretty good at cheering me."
"Then that's where ye should be. But John, I beg ye to remember ye still have a head injury. Ye ken ye are no' supposed to travel. Go to yer cousin's and stay there a while, aye?"

John sighed, but allowed Jamie one more moment to worry over him. "I promise. And what about you? I feel a bit guilty, running off to my family for solace. Who will keep you company?"
"I have William," Jamie told him with a small smile. "And this wee one's brother. He's moving into the stable with me tonight. I'll be training him. I'll think of you."

He looked over John's shoulder and saw that the sky was becoming bright.
"John, it's time," he told him, and John frowned when he saw that he was right.
They walked slowly to the barn door and Jamie peeked outside to make sure no one was about yet, and when he turned back to John, he saw that he had straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin.

He should be surprised, that he were the one teary eyed while John was settling himself into a lordly manner, but he knew them both better than that by now. John didn't cry in front of anyone.
Still, there was a sadness about him as Jamie took him in his arms.
"I'll see ye in a couple o' months?" he said hopefully.
"It will be harder to find excuses to come now that you're no longer my ward," John told him, and Jamie tensed. "But you know I'll find some. I'll be back before you have time to miss me."
"That is no' possible." Jamie pulled back and lifted John's chin with his finger.
"I miss ye already." He pressed a kiss to John's mouth, groaning when John stood on his toes and wrapped a hand around his neck, pulling him in and delving his tongue past his teeth. They stayed locked like that far longer than they should have, and when Jamie finally broke free with a heavy sigh, the sun was making a proper appearance.

John left without another word, cradling his puppy tightly and whispering into its neck as he walked quickly towards the path that would lead to the house. He turned back once before he stepped out of sight and gave a small wave, then he lifted the puppy's paw and waved that at him, too, eliciting a small chuckle from Jamie.

When he was gone, Jamie reached into his pocket and pulled out the neck cloth he had hidden there while John slept and pressed it to his nose.