LOVE & STITCHES at The Asylum Part Four

 

Mondays don't have to be all bad, right?

Here's a little something to make yours a bit brighter!

Happy Reading!

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PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

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City lights reflected off the low cloud ceiling, casting Noah’s art studio in an otherworldly glow. Jared paused, back against the door, to watch his boy as he gazed out at the weather. Naked longing widened Wren’s gaze, his soft lips parted as if he waited only for it to start snowing so he might issue a contented sigh. 

From the moment I laid eyes on you, I loved you.

There was so much in Jared’s heart for this man, it sometimes scared him. Knowing what it was to nearly lose those most precious to him—and knowing that Seth had lost Quint for an equal amount of time—Jared understood to his marrow what made the other Dom feral in protecting those he’d claimed. When tempers ran hottest at The Asylum, it was often over conflicts that were, ironically, driven by love.

Walking up behind Wren, Jared made sure his approach would be seen. The headphones would keep sound from disturbing his boy, but motion would alert him that he wasn’t alone. Seeing the pocket of flesh over Wren’s eye, the tiny scar that seemed so insignificant that it couldn’t have possibly almost taken Wren’s life, Jared forced away the fear that dogged him and the anger that Wren didn’t truly know—and could never know—all that had been taken from him.

“Love?” Jared brushed his fingertips down Wren’s shoulder to his arm. 

Lifting his head and looking over at Jared, Wren began to smile. Then his eyes widened. He turned to face Jared, bringing a hand up to trail his fingers lightly along his jaw. “Sir, what…? Did you have a fight tonight? Was it on the schedule? I should have been there, I don’t like missing you in the ring… Was it Dallas? He’s been working his way up the ranks. I know you won, you’re more disciplined than he is.”

Jared pressed a kiss to his forehead and took off his headphones to lay on the drafting table. Swinging Wren into his arms, he carried his boy to the door and out into the living room. On the sofa, Reed continued to read the book upside down, head on Curtis’ lap while Curtis combed his fingers a little drunkenly through his boy’s springy curls. Eyes a little bloodshot, Curtis looked up with a soft smile that Jared returned, bringing Wren with him to the loft door. 

They were out in the hallway, on their way down to the bar, before Jared spoke again. “I’ve been wanting to have a cigar and brandy with you all day. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let this night stop me.” He paused for a moment to wink at Wren. “And I’ll answer all of your questions once we’re comfortable.”

“A cigar and brandy sounds like a very good plan, sir. Do you find brandy tastes like honey? I find it does a little, maybe that’s why I like it. It’s like some of the special honey Keiran keeps buying.” Wren rested his head against Jared’s shoulder. “I don’t use that much, I wonder what he does with it all. It would be a shame to waste it. I guess Pike might eat it, I told him to try it on toast.”

“Curtis would recommend burned toast.” The door to the bar squeaked on its hinges and Jared stepped through into the darkened space. Only the lights from the parking lot came through the heavily frosted security windows, throwing long-legged shadows from the tables and stools that had been piled on top. “It might be genetic. We should experiment and see.”

Wren made a face, as though he could taste the charcoal bread. “It’s the most horrible smell, but I’d be willing to put up with it for an experiment. Maybe I could wear a mask. And gloves. Then I wouldn’t contaminate anything during the trial. Neither Curtis or Pike would make very good subjects, though. It would be difficult to take notes off of the noises they make when they’re eating. We’d have to study them for quite some time. Of course, the whole thing would be recorded.”

Jared flicked on the lights in the cigar lounge, bringing up the overheads that sparkled off the glass-fronted humidor. “You have a very keen mind for planning experiments, little raven.” He set Wren down on the Chesterfield sofa’s buttery-soft leather, already planning to let Keiran know a brandy cake might not be unwelcome. “Perhaps we’ll film it but have Curtis make the toast when we’re not around? Would that help? We could review the results later and compose a research questionnaire for Pike to answer.”

“That is an excellent idea, sir.” Wren’s expression brightened, as though the concept excited him. “I have been considering a few experiments just to pass the time. I watched a movie with Jamie and Danny the other day. Neither of them enjoyed it. Danny said it proved food can kill you—which, granted, is true in the extreme, but he could never get to that point. I wanted to prove it… Have you seen Seven? I don’t remember if we watched it together. I’m sure I’ve seen it before…”

“No… I don’t believe I have.” A Cuban in one hand and the brandy decanter in the other, Jared returned to the sofa to place the items on the glass-topped coffee table with its carved mahogany base that Curtis had gifted Lawson when the room opened. “You trim and I’ll get us some glasses.” He crossed to the sideboard again to pick up a couple snifters. “Curtis told me a joke. Do you know that the number seven is a cannibal?”

Wren’s lips twitched as he trimmed the cigars. “Yes, sir. That’s why it’s my favorite.”

“Ah. So you know the punchline?” The singsong of liquid hitting crystal sounded as light as his mood.

Wren gave a serious nod. “I didn’t understand it before, but Reed explained it to me. It’s strange how people play with the way words sound to make jokes. But it was funny after. And since everyone’s supposed to have a favorite number, I chose seven.”

“Because seven ate nine?” Jared placed the snifter with a bright clink on the table in front of Wren. “But nine is a cannibal too, I think.” He sipped his own drink, letting the warmth of the alcohol tickle his palate, then swallowed. “If you add anything to it, it takes one away from that number. Eight is no longer eight when added to nine. It becomes seventeen. It always fascinated me as a boy.”

“Yes. I enjoyed numbers as well. As numbers, not as funny words.” Wren sipped his own brandy, closing his eyes as he savored it in a way he did with very few things. “I like books… You know that, though. Some of them are funny, like the works of Stephen King.”

“What about Poe?” Jared settled next to Wren on the sofa, leaning back to drape his arm over his boy’s shoulders.

The question brought a soft smile to Wren’s lips as he slid in a bit closer and peered up at Jared. “His work is pure art. When I lived alone I found a recording of someone reading all of his poems and I listened to it to go to sleep.”

“I dislike thinking of you ever having been alone.” Jared pressed a kiss to Wren’s mouth, nibbling a little until lips parted to admit Jared’s tongue. “Mmm.” He drew back with an appreciative sigh. “You could only taste better if you’d taken a puff on that Cuban after a sip of that brandy.”

Bringing the cigar to his mouth, Wren paused, then lowered it again. “You were going to tell me about your fight with Dallas?”

“Ah. So I was…” Jared held out his hand to take the cigar from Wren’s fingers. He took a few quick draws, enjoying the feel of the dry tobacco leaf against his lips. “It wasn’t Dallas, and it wasn’t in the ring.” He examined the tip of the cigar, then handed it back to Wren. “Seth thought I’d hurt Pike, because I told him I did something that Rhodey did. He punched me and I didn’t block.”

Wren pursed his lips, scowling at the cigar before taking a long puff. He let it out slowly. “Sir, is it wrong to say he’s very lucky I don’t have access to a phone right now? Assuming the worst from you is no excuse. He is supposed to be a Dom. And have more control. He should know you better than that.”

“Hmm.” Leaning forward, Jared lifted his brandy glass and took a sip. “I think if anyone told me they’d hurt you, I’d throw punches and ask questions later.” Settling back again, he ran a thumb up and down Wren’s shoulder. “And, yes, I am very glad you don’t have access to your phone, my protective little corvid. Because I have much better plans than disciplining you tonight.”

Handing Jared the cigar, Wren picked up his brandy and swirled the liquid, staring into it. “I don’t want to cause trouble. And...I liked that you had them back, once I learned they weren’t terrible. Unless they are, then I can hate them again. But Quint is terrible at folding sheets. I think I’ve almost taught him to do it right, it’s difficult with Pike being so distracting, but he can be sweet.”

“They aren’t terrible.” Chin dipped so he gazed into Wren’s eyes, Jared tried to remember he spoke to someone for whom life had become very unambiguous. “They’re unused to anyone remaining loyal in the face of life and death. Much like Rhodey was before he...” Except Rhodey hadn’t always been that way, had he? Jared shook his head, getting back to the point. “It will take them some time, and Seth especially.”

Wren gave a slow nod, as though he weighed each one of Jared’s words. “That must be difficult for them. I can be patient, within reason. But Seth isn’t allowed to hit you outside of the ring again. Is that a rule I can make?” He nodded, almost to himself. “I think it definitely should be.”

“Agreed.” Jared shifted his weight, settling Wren closer. “Next time I fail to block, you can punish me.”

That got him a wide eyed look. “Oh, no, sir. That’s not acceptable. The rule is for Seth, I don’t make them for you. You shouldn’t have to block attacks from… Is Seth your friend? It’s very unclear.”

Excellent question... 

Jared exchanged the cigar Wren had given him for his glass. Staring through the smoke at the ceiling fixtures didn’t make things much clearer, but the tobacco’s earthy sweetness calmed nerves that were more frayed than he would’ve liked. 

“I don’t know.” He finally decided on an honest answer. “What do you think makes a good friend? Or a friend, even? I would’ve said I’d die for him once.”

Tongue pressed into his bottom lip, Wren furrowed his brow as though he’d been given a code using patterns he didn’t recognize. “Noah says loyalty is most important, and I can agree with that. And I like being around Jamie. He’s fun and sweet and I can tell him anything, even if he doesn’t always understand what I’m talking about. He tries, that’s important. And being able to share things, special things...like snow.” He smiled a little, his eyes going distant. “I love Keiran for what he did for me, but there’s more… I know he cares about me. About all of us.” He blinked and focused on Jared, his tone uncertain. “Am I answering the question right?”

A soft smile lifted Jared’s lips. “Exactly right, my love.” He handed Wren the cigar to share. “Loyalty, shared interests, even bonding over something difficult, those are all things that can be the basis for love and friendship.” Breathing deep, Jared let out a long sigh. “I had all those things with Bizzy, but...”

“But he had to leave and it’s been a really long time.” Wren set the cigar on the ashtray, then put his hand over Jared’s. “Those things didn’t go away. You’ve both changed, but maybe you can...find what you had again. Or something new. Better even. So long as he stops punching you.”

Jared stood, taking Wren’s hands to pull him to his feet. “And I stop trying to save him from Rhodey’s tests.” Leaning over, he grabbed the remote to the sound system and cued up his favorite slow, sexy Jazz playlist. He held out one palm. “Care to dance?”

Placing his hand in Jared’s, Wren grinned up at him. “I’d love to, sir. I haven’t danced since Jamie tried to get me to learn one of his favorite dances from an old movie…” His smile faded a little. “I can’t remember which one. And I couldn’t keep up. Reed came to the rescue, though. Jamie slowed down a little for him. It was nice seeing them having fun.”

“Why didn’t he slow down for you, love?” One arm around Wren’s waist, the opposite hand clasped with his boy’s, Jared led them in a slow, sensual twirl around the room.

Lifting his shoulders in a barely perceptible shrug, Wren moved with him. “I didn’t ask him to. And I’m not hurt, so it wasn’t necessary. I don’t...enjoy the same kind of dancing he does, but I like making him happy, so I wanted to try.”

The overhead lights bounced off Wren’s glasses, periodically obscuring his expression. Jared led them in another twirl, adding to the topics he intended to broach the next time he and Jamie spent time alone. 

“All of those old movies run together for me. I don’t know about you.” Tilting his head, Jared frowned. “Especially those Shirley Temple ones he likes. It’s as if the dance numbers could be strung together into one long nightmare, and they’d all seem like the same movie.”

Wren snickered, tilting back a little in Jared’s arms to peer up at him. “I think I’ve just found a way to make them more interesting. I’ll pretend they’re part of a torture scene in a new Saw movie. Either watch or you have to go into the room where the floor is covered in glass. I can see how long I’ll last. I have a feeling Rhodey will save me first, though. He somehow always has a job for me partway through the movie.”

“We need to find Jamie a little old granny to watch those movies with. Someone with a great many cats.” Chuckling to himself, Jared shook his head. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk with you about tonight. We need to plan your birthday, and I wanted to know if you have any special treats or presents you’ve been looking forward to. It’s only a few weeks away.” Bringing his lips to Wren’s ear, he murmured, “It could snow any day now.”

“I absolutely want snow for my birthday, but that seems an unreasonable request.” Wren let out a contented sound, closing his eyes. “I wish…” He stopped and shook his head. “No, that’s unreasonable as well. I’ll be happy with anything, sir. I wouldn’t mind another doll for my collection. And a snow globe. I only have the first Child’s Play one. I am positive there are more, unless I imagined the girl?”

“Bride of Chucky?” As usual, Wren’s rambling distracted Jared momentarily from his intended question. Clearing his throat, he leveled Wren with a look, bringing them to a halt. “But what was that wish you didn’t share? No holding back with your Dom, my boy. Out with it.”

Making a face that was a bit like Jamie when he was called out, Wren ducked his head. “I was thinking it’s been a long time since I’ve been to the Clinic...unless I forgot. That’s possible, but...Rhodey’s been more strict about me leaving The Asylum, so I don’t believe I did? The one time I was at Matt’s café was a rare exception, Rhodey pointed that out.” He worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “I would really like to spend a day at the Clinic with you. I know I can’t help, I don’t have any official training, but...I’d enjoy being there with you. Even just to observe.”

Knuckle under Wren’s chin, Jared met his boy’s gaze. “Are you saying you haven’t been practicing your sutures the way I showed you, with the fruit and the lunchmeat?”

“I have, sir! Almost every day. And on Curtis, which he says is okay because no one ‘official’ needs to know and if you haven’t approved it, it can’t be held against you. I told him he’s almost as accident prone as Pike. He did not appreciate that.” Wren’s lips quirked. “He really isn’t or I’m sure he’d have lost a limb by now.”

“Are you forgetting how we came to be together?” The day had been a nightmare, but the result had been the realization of a dream. “And yes, you may sew Curtis wherever you wish. If Lawson asks, tell him to come to me.”

Wren nodded quickly. “I would, sir, but Curtis always asks that I not say anything to him. He’s very specific. He doesn’t say not to tell you, I’d refuse. I remember his leg, that was terrible, I wish I’d been able to get a closer look at it. But I enjoyed giving blood...well, until I fell.” He sighed. “Quint has been difficult with my donating lately. He says he’s keeping track of how often I do it. I believe he’s...well, I don’t want to accuse him of anything, but why would I ask both him and Seth if I could donate on the same day?”

“Sometimes, when things get hectic, we all forget things.” Walking Wren backward, Jared pressed his back against the mahogany paneling and claimed a kiss. His boy tasted of good tobacco and smoky brandy. “He’s following the correct protocol. Now, tell me, if I were to have a proctor come to The Asylum to give you the CNA exam, would you be able to pass it? It’s the first step to becoming Nurse Raven.”

Wren cocked his head, nodding slowly. “I’ve always been good with tests and I’ve read all your medical journals. I think I’d do very well. And being a nurse…” His lips curved into a soft smile. “It would be...wonderful. I could help you. And it wouldn’t be like hacking, it’s not tied into all the horrible things I’ve done, like taking money from banks and working for very bad people. I’d be healing people instead.”

“I don’t know why we can’t find another hacker for Vani.” Jared growled the woman’s name, biting Wren’s lip before he could do it himself. Rolling the bit of flesh between his teeth, he momentarily indulged his arousal to cool his ire, then released Wren’s lip with a sucking pull. “I need a nurse. And I choose you.” He pulled off his tie, looping it around itself and forming a slip knot. “We’ll get tutors and proctors so you have all the practical knowledge you need. You’ll make a damned fine RN.”

Smiling up at him, Wren brought a hand to his cheek, fingers stroking his beard. “She’d need someone better than me and I’m not sure they’ve been born yet. Which sounds extremely arrogant, but I’ve been hoping someone would at least be a challenge. Until then, I’d like to be a nurse when I’m not needed in that capacity. Have I mentioned how much I like your beard? When you and Jamie were discussing it, I was picturing a scene from some castaway movie. Or a pirate. But it suits you. It adds a darkness and strength to your features.”

God help him, Jared preened, lighting up from the inside and breaking into a grin. Rubbed his face against Wren’s palm to enjoy the feeling of being petted. He snorted. A petted pirate. “I’m glad you like it, love. Thank you.” Claiming another kiss, this time with less bite and more tongue, he rewarded Wren by stealing his breath away. “Mhm.” He raised his head, sinking into arousal’s thready pull. “This is much more what I had in mind for this evening.”

“I like your plans, sir.” Wren’s voice was breathy, a blush spreading over his pale cheeks. “Next time, we really should arrange it so you can carry them out before Seth gets his hands on you. It’s no longer allowed unless he can play nice.”

“You sound like a cross between Noah and my old Dom.” Chuckling, Jared maneuvered Wren toward the section of wall by the humidor. “Remind me to tell you about him sometime.” He found the wall hook he’d asked Curtis to install. Heavy, iron, with a dark finish that wouldn’t clash with the mahogany paneling, it had waited for a moment just like this one. Arms over his head, Jared used his tie to secure Wren to the hook so he stood on his tiptoes.

“I will, sir.” Wren wet his bottom lip with his tongue, the pulse at his throat quickening. “Do I really sound like a Dom? I need to work on that. I prefer it when you’re in control. I...need it. If you enjoy Seth hitting you, I won’t interfere.”

Working on Wren’s belt buckle, Jared held his gaze. “You do not sound like a Dom. You sound—” He slid the belt from its loops, setting it aside to work on Wren’s fly. “—like someone who is in love and has every right to stake some claims.” A firm tug rolled Wren’s soft blue boxer briefs below his cock and balls, his dress pants already in a pool around his ankles. Kneeling, Jared blew a soft breath over the tip, firmly taking Wren’s sweetly curved shaft in his palm and beginning to stroke. “But let’s focus on more pleasant topics. Like how I’d like us to make an igloo this winter. Just you and me, a night under the stars, by the fire. Surrounded by snow.”

“Mmm, I would like that very much.” Wren shifted again, moving with Jared’s touch. “If I’m a nurse, maybe we’ll be able to spend more time together. But either way, I’m grateful for every moment you can give me. Even though I miss you, whenever you’re gone.”

Jared bobbed his head, taking Wren in his mouth to hide the moisture prickling at the corners of his eyes. Deep as he wanted to take his boy, he took his time getting there, first sucking and then licking in swirls around his crown. He alternated short, sharp strokes with longer languid ones.  Control easing his emotions, he lifted his head to take in the beautiful way Wren’s mouth opened. A gloss of saliva decorated the full bottom pout. Pink stained his cheeks, his glasses slightly askew and his brown hair mussed from the friction of his arms.

“I think of you so many times during the day, love. Every patient, I ask myself what you’d say. I think of you like this, with my hands and mouth on you—” Stopping to demonstrate, he took Wren to the back of his throat, and beyond, in a deep glide. “—And I think of you cuddling with me on the roof at night. Every moment, big and small, nothing makes me happier than being with you.”

Wren panted, looking down at Jared, the expression on his face making it clear he was thinking of nothing besides him, completely trapped in the moment. His hands were relaxed in the restraint of the tie, not trying to get free, simply accepting Jared’s hold on him in every way. “Nothing makes me happier either, sir.” His lips twitched upwards. “This wasn’t on the schedule, I would have remembered.”

An answering grin spread across Jared’s face, and he set to work making sure that it was an experience so memorable, not even the building itself could forget. “You may come whenever you like, love. I want to taste you on my tongue, and hear you with my ears, feel your shouts on my skin.” The roll of his fingers under Wren’s sac toward the strip of skin between had his boy right where he wanted, thrusting without words, begging with his body in the most honest tell God could’ve invented.

Whimpering, Wren nodded, his cry coming so quickly after it was obvious he hadn’t been sneaking off with Jamie recently. His whole body jerked as he came, the tugs at his wrists involuntary now as every muscle reacted with the pleasure practically radiating off of him. Another cry followed, almost a sob, louder, like the peak had taken him, leaving only enough air for him to let out the sound.

Swallowing down every drop of Wren’s release, Jared buried his nose in the smooth skin of Wren’s belly, relishing the rise and fall of flesh and muscle, the sweat dotted skin so full of life and heat that he never wanted to move away

He stood eventually, reluctantly, righting Wren’s clothes, and releasing him from the hook. Carrying his boy to the sofa, he settled them both in, Wren spooned in his lap while the makeshift bondage was undone and circulation rubbed back into Wren’s hands and arms. 

“Such a good boy. My perfect, sweet Wren.” He peppered alabaster skin with kisses, enjoying his little raven’s boneless state.

There were so many things he couldn’t control, and as a Dom and a man that made his teeth itch. He couldn’t bring back Wren’s memories or change the past, but there was one thing he could do. 

Gazing down at the  man he loved he vowed to make every moment with him from now on so memorable that each would stand out against the blizzard of the rest. Every single one a unique and beautiful crystal of frozen water. 

All of them exactly like the magical snowflakes Wren loved.

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Part 5 coming on Thursday so stay tuned!

 

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