Love & Stitches at The Asylum: Part Thirty-Two
Happy Sunday, Asylum Fight Club friends!
Thank you for making my birthday such an amazing day. I smiled all day long, receiving your messages and am excited to start my personal new year with another installment of Love & Stitches with you!
I'm planning to polish off the last cupcake with some foamy coffee and a bit of ice cream for breakfast. Totally hits all the food groups. Dallas would agree!
Bianca and I hope you have a restful and lovely day. Fingers crossed that our boys will as well!
Love,
Tibby
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PART 2
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
PART 7
PART 8
PART 9
PART 10
PART 11
PART 12
PART 13
PART 14
PART 15
PART 16
PART 17
PART 18
PART 19
PART 20
PART 21
PART 22
PART 23
Neatly folding away the gloves, hats and scarves he’d disturbed in his search for Rhodey’s gloves, Jared made certain there wouldn’t be a single item out of place for Wren to stress over. The cedar chest’s lid closed on well-oiled hinges, the glide of the hardware allowing it to close with the barest hint of noise.
An educated guess leading him toward Wren’s office, he tapped on the door with his middle knuckle. “Wren, love, are you ready to go downstairs?”
The lack of answer told him Wren was probably wearing his headphones, using the bit of quiet time for whatever latest project had caught his interest. Opening the door, he saw Wren was bent over his desk, a ruler and a pencil in his hands. Humming to himself to whatever he was listening to, he drew precise lines on a chart, wincing and shaking his hand before frowning at it, then continuing.
He muttered to himself as he glanced at a recipe book he had open on the edge of his desk. “Four servings. How does he make sure they’re all exactly the same? I should ask him. Maybe he weighs each one?”
Walking around to a point where Wren’s peripheral vision would pick up the movement, Jared stopped to watch what his boy wrote in the notebook, head tipped to one side. “Good morning, love. Should you be writing?”
The question was rhetorical, and Jared knew his boy would see his raised brow and intuit the intent behind it.
Immediately slipping off the headphones with another wince, Wren looked up at him and smiled. “Good morning, sir. I hope you managed to get some good sleep. Would you like some tea?”
Head tipped down, Jared gave his boy a long look from under lowered brows. There were times when Wren’s intelligence and canniness were a challenge even for him. If he’d been in more of a hurry, then he might’ve missed the way his boy sidestepped the question about his hands. Lifting one, Jared ran a light finger over the cane stripes, trying and failing not to make an impressed sound as his dick fattened at the sound of Wren’s quickened breathing.
“We are stealing my pain for ourselves, aren’t we, my boy? I don’t care for that at all.” He pressed his thumb into one of the welts, meeting Wren’s gaze. “Don’t do it again.”
Throat working, Wren nodded, his gaze on Jared’s fingers. “Yes, sir. I apologize, I was distracted and hardly noticed. It’s not incredibly painful anymore…for the most part. Only when I change positions or…I’ll be more careful, sir.”
“See that you are.” Letting the matter go for now, he pressed a kiss to Wren’s palm, then released his hand. “What are you up to here? I’m interested, if you’d care to share.” Motioning toward the notebook, Jared didn’t close the distance. If Wren didn’t want to share, then there was no reason to press the matter. What he wrote didn’t appear dangerous. “Are you helping Keiran with his recipes?”
Wren held his gaze, a bit of a sheepish smile on his lips. “No, sir. I much prefer to stick to cooking very basic things and I don’t mind at all when he wants to cook for us all. I was researching the different eating habits of the Core. I started with the subs—I thought it might be useful for when you and Keiran are working on different dietary requirements. Then I delved a bit deeper because it’s interesting how someone like Pike can eat so much and maintain his weight, while others lose and gain so easily. Reed mentioned being worried about becoming a twink. I’m not sure what weight that would be, but maybe I’ll be able to find the right calculations to help him avoid it. Unless it’s already too late.”
“Do you know how to look up height and weight charts in the medical encyclopedias I gave you?” Jared pointed toward the thick, blue tomes that took up most of one shelf. “You would start there, but also factor in the body type. There are other tests that can be done to help gauge muscle mass, bone density, and metabolism, which all play a part in weight gain and loss, along with diet and exercise, but those two measurements—height and weight—are generally the starting point. If those are in proportion, and the patient is healthy in other respects, with no recent unexplained changes in weight, then the other tests aren’t typically necessary.”
Not moving a muscle, Wren appeared to hang on his every word. He gave a quick nod and went to add one of the books to the neat pile on his desk. “I’ve seen you do the general tests for the Core to make sure they’re within a healthy range, but I thought this might be a good conversation starter. And be helpful for when one of them wants to adjust for any reason. I told Curtis he should let Reed use his protein shakes. That should get him where he wants to be rather quickly.”
“There are cases where a high protein diet can be bad for a patient, so make certain you know the patient’s medical history before making a recommendation for any diet. Though things like the Mediterranean diet are generally safe, doing a blood panel to determine if there are nutrient deficiencies is a good place to start.”
Hiking up one pant leg, Jared lowered himself into Wren’s guest chair next to his desk. He tapped his finger on the notebook.
“Here. Have them keep a food diary of what they’re eating if you’re looking for reasons that aren’t easily explained for imbalances. It’s always better to get vitamins, minerals, nutrition from food than from supplements where possible. Supplements should be just that. Supplemental.” Not wanting to overwhelm his boy, Jared nodded approvingly as he looked over his research notes. “You are gathering very good information here for your work. I’d like you to read a few books on general nutrition before going further. Would you be interested in that?”
Moving a bit closer to him, Wren nodded, his smile a bit more relaxed. “Very much so, sir. I’ll probably have to keep the diaries for Reed and Jamie myself, they’ll forget to write everything down. Quint likely knows everything Pike eats down to the last crumb. Rhodey also seems to be just as aware of what his men consume, except...well, when they’re at the restaurant or the café, I guess. I think it will be a useful project and I won’t…” He glanced down at his hands, rested on his thighs. “I won’t have the time to make unfortunate decisions. I’m sorry, sir. I know you must be very disappointed in me. Noah was very clear on what I did wrong. I resisted the urge to ask him for a harsher punishment, I know how much that upsets him, but...I was tempted.”
Lifting Wren, Jared moved him to his lap.
“I was frightened. Very frightened.” Clearing his throat, he tried to find words that wouldn’t cause his boy unnecessary pain. “When you make this mistake over and over, I blame myself. For not giving you better lines. A clearer understanding of what’s expected. Which is to keep yourself safe and off the radar of those people who might hurt you and take you away from me.” Leaning down, he kissed the red line he traced on Wren’s palm, lightly this time. “If I thought this sort of punishment would help you to remember, I’d do it myself; but it has happened enough times that this seems the definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over, and expecting a different result. Tell me, what do you think should be done to help you?”
“The punishment does help, sir. It’s impossible to forget when it still hurts, but...I suppose if the situation presented itself where I thought my skills could protect someone I love...I would be less concerned with the pain.” Wren closed his eyes and shook his head. “Not gambling after being punished a few times was strangely much easier. Stephan did not seem to like that method being used, and I can see how it could be harmful for some, but for me it was...I wanted to please Noah. And I want to please you, but having the power to do something so profound for the people I love is...its own sort of addiction. I’m hoping finding something else and leaving myself no room to make those kinds of moves will...replace it in some ways.”
“Would it help at all if you were forbidden from touching an electronic device ever again?” Somehow, Jared doubted it, given Wren’s answer about protecting the people he loved, but he needed to ask.
Wren looked a little sad as he brought his gaze back to his hands. “No, sir. It...did help when I couldn’t do anything without you, Noah, or Rhodey watching over me, but...the lines were blurred when Noah asked Avery to watch over me. I was so angry that Trevor had been able to get close to Jamie, that he’d ruined the sanctity of our home, all the rules, all the lines, were momentarily...lost.”
“I understand, and under different circumstances, I would commend your actions.” Rubbing between two of the bruises with a swipe of his thumb, Jared activated a bit more of the heat from the beating Noah had administered. “I need to think about this. To discuss it with Noah. If you believe regular discipline—not this harsh—would help you to remember and think clearly in those moments, then perhaps we can consider them.”
Wren wrinkled his nose a little, flexing his hands. “I think avoiding anything unexpected would work much better, sir. Everything is easier when life is predictable. But I’m aware that’s not possible.” He glanced at the notebook. “If I’m a very good nurse and only a hacker on occasion, maybe I won’t be tempted to use that kind of power. Keeping things clean, taking care of everyone...when I last spoke to Stephan he said he believes that did more for me not wanting to check the races, or the bet book, or pick up a stack of cards, then any kind of punishment. I’m not sure I agree, but...it feels better, thinking I was just being a good sub.”
“And, High Protocol? Do you enjoy that? Would you like to have your movements and actions prescribed to you?” Caressing Wren’s wrist, Jared drew little circles and figure eights on the delicate skin with his fingertip. “Would it help?”
Tugging his bottom lip between his teeth, Wren met his eyes. “If it would please you, sir. But I...like how things are. It’s comfortable. I’m sorry my actions made you doubt that. You haven’t done anything wrong. This was very much my poor judgment. I will try, very hard, to make better decisions in the future. I’ll even try to get better at guiding our security staff to do the basic updates and coding on their own. I...part of me loved that this was my thing, but I abused the trust I was given. I’ll do whatever I can to earn it back.”
“Thank you, little raven. That would help a great deal.” Tipping Wren’s chin up with one knuckle, Jared studied his boy’s soft brown eyes. “You have one more chance. If you jeopardize yourself or abuse that trust again in the future, you will not be allowed to assist Rhodey or Vani again. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Wren drew in a sharp breath, glancing nervously toward the door. “It would probably be best if you didn’t mention this to Vani. She would not be pleased. And Rhodey...is not very happy with me right now.” He sighed, resting back against Jared’s chest. “I thought reassuring Danny there were ways to get rid of the scars that may occur would comfort him, but I forgot that he’s disturbed by anything too graphic. I wish I could teach him to find it as interesting as I do. But that didn’t work with Jamie, so it’s even less likely to succeed with him.”
Jared kissed the top of his boy’s head, breathing him in. “Mhm... But if last night is any indication, perhaps under the right circumstances Jamie isn’t so averse to things that are graphic and violent. He didn’t enjoy watching the fights when he first arrived, if you recall, but now he bets on them and cheers with Noah when the hits are hardest.” Thinking about his promise to Rhodey, Jared made a thoughtful sound. “But yes, Danny. Let’s allow him to remain...himself. We need a little softness around here amid all the brutality. Danny deserves to keep who he was before he arrived.”
“He’s not that, though, sir.” Wren tipped his head to one side to peer up at him over his shoulder. “If you saw how he and Jamie were, in all those interviews and specials about the band… They couldn’t be who they are now then. They didn’t have that kind of freedom. The Asylum gave them that, as imperfectly as that may be. They’re both actually much softer without the masks.”
“Are you saying that’s who they are naturally? Or that they are trying on a different way of being here?” Often, the subs confided their deepest thoughts and secrets to one another, and Jared didn’t mean to pry those confidences out of Wren. Still, he wished to understand. “Is Jamie pretending that he can’t remember things? Does he cause these moments of emotional chaos with ill-timed revelations because it gives him something he didn’t have before, or is it really a mistake?”
Turning fully to face Jared, his legs slightly bent to one side, Wren gave him a thoughtful look. “I believe...it’s like who you were in the military. Of course, Hollywood isn’t nearly on that level, but the intensity of certain expectations can be very similar. More recently, I think it’s obvious with someone like Shea. When he was still in service, he was much more abrasive and detached. Once he decided not to re-up—I believe that’s the term—he was able to connect to Jacks better. And then to Danny.”
Not really fully understanding, Jared nodded anyway. Then shook his head. “This will sound very odd, and perhaps I shouldn’t discuss this with you, but you are close to him. For all his wearing his heart on his sleeve, I am fairly certain he hides a fair bit from me and from Noah. Though I can’t put my finger on what, exactly. I’d like to understand, and I will watch the videos. If you can divulge anything without breaking his trust...” He brushed his nose along Wren’s cheek, holding him tighter. “Please let me know.”
“I think…” Wren took a deep breath, shifting a little, as though the discomfort of his thoughts had transferred to something physical. He didn’t often hesitate with any answers, which could be a problem in the wrong hands, but his loyalty to Jamie appeared to have him torn. “I think he wants to be the kind of sub you want, the kind Noah wants, and isn’t sure what that looks like. So his submission gets lost in the performance and he can’t relax into it. He seems…happiest when he can have some fun and get in what you call ‘good trouble’. But both you and Noah have very hard lines so…he finds himself either avoiding them or tripping over those very limits. It’s a very uncomfortable dance when it reaches that point.”
“Truer words...” Adjusting Wren, Jared turned him to straddle his hips, not bothering to hide the press of his erection that hadn’t lessened as he lightly stroked Wren’s hand, his thumb relishing each line. “Good trouble is difficult to find here. Pike seems to do all right, but Seth has always enjoyed a bit of fun. He can afford to indulge the boy, especially with Quint there to impose some softer limits. And...” Frowning, he rested his hands on Wren’s hips to pull him closer. “I understand masochists. Brats... Jamie doesn’t strike me as one. Pike, yes. Even Reed sometimes, but I am at a loss. Which is not something comfortable to admit to one’s own submissive.”
Wren studied his face in that uncanny way he did when Jared presented him with a unique situation. Only, since Jared was part of it, he was the one under the microscope. “Yes, that seems like it would be very uncomfortable as well. You, Noah, and Jamie are dancing together to three different songs that sometimes match up and other times make terrible noise. It might be useful if you could all…turn to the same frequency? No, that’s not the correct term. But if you need him to walz, I feel like…he’d enjoy that if he knew. And you would enjoy if he showed you he needed to…salsa?”
There were answers buried somewhere in those metaphors, but there wasn’t quite the connection Jared needed. It felt close. So close, in fact, he had hope for the first time in a great while that he, Noah, and Jamie might get there. He used a metaphor of his own. “It’s as if he’s sending out an S.O.S. from that damned island and I’ve been trying to find him with your broken drone.”
“It really was a good little drone. A shame it had to be left to its fate.” Wren’s brow furrowed as he smoothed his hand over the front of Jared’s shirt, likely finding a wrinkle no one else would have noticed. “You…you and Noah play together well at times. You know one another in a way that you can read when it’s appropriate and will be enjoyable to you both. I believe…if you showed Jamie how to play with you that way, it would teach him the same.”
Lips lifting at the corners, Jared’s gaze went soft, memories of Noah’s delight the first time he’d approached his training with something other than platonic reinforcement and techniques warming his blood even now. All these years later. A reward and a threat, a delicious mind-fuck that had given him as much of a thrill as it had the boy. Something he could strive for, and push against when he needed to feel Jared there.
“Hmm...” It wasn’t a half bad idea, but the application would need to be different. While Noah might’ve subbed to him, he’d always essentially been a Top, and Jared had taken care not to step on areas where submission could turn into a type of humiliation that would have broken Noah’s trust, and his ego. “I’ll have to think about that, but I believe you’re on to something, my boy.” Regardless, he’d indulged himself long enough, tucked away in Wren’s office away from the world. “We have a Board meeting to get to. Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.” Wren rose to his feet, moving quickly to tidy up his desk, speaking softly, as though uncertain his explanation had gotten across. “It is natural, sir. The Asylum has given Jamie the space to...get to know himself. Without being blinded by the spotlight. He’s still working on it. You should...definitely watch those videos one day. You’ll see the difference.”
Jared stood, setting Wren on his feet, and automatically starting to tilt the medical journals and texts so the spines faced toward the chair in a neat stack, the same way he did with his own desk at the General Clinic, then stopped when he realized what he was doing. “You’re saying he doesn’t know himself.”
Wren’s lips parted as he stilled. He took another deep breath. “I… I don’t mean it in a negative way, but...yes. I think there are parts of himself he doesn’t know. Ways to cope with things that used to be handled for him, or dealt with so he wasn’t even aware of them. Like not being able to read. Not having to face anything unpleasant or uncomfortable. His development was strictly about the music. About his performance. His life was always working towards the next time he’d be on that stage, on earning and keeping the love of the fans. It’s not anymore.”
“That makes a certain amount of sense, I suppose. And explains why he seems like someone ground up bits of Pike, Reed, and Danny, and shook them all up to form a...” Jared’s lips twitched. “White haired glitter squirrel. He’s...young...but...” Thinking about Blain, Jared reached for a connection. “Not a little. Or an age player.”
“No, but…I can see him exploring some of that for fun. And…sometimes it can be easier to mirror what we see as appealing behavior when we’re uncertain how we’re supposed to act. There’s no stage manager, no handlers, and that smile that is perfect for the cameras isn’t enough anymore.” Wren placed his ruler and his pencils in their slots in the top drawer of his desk. “I love it when I can see him, just...being himself. Other times, he identifies with Reed’s need for movement and lack of focus, so he’ll drift in that direction. Which can be helpful, Reed was given tools to manage his difficulties, between Tracey and Noah, over the years. But Jamie needs those tools and...it will take time. And patience. Which he doesn’t always have with himself. He gets very frustrated, so I try to make things easier on him. So does Noah.”
Unsure how they’d drifted to the topic of Jamie, Jared reached out to minutely adjust one of Wren’s snow globes that had been pushed a hair back from the rest. “I’m unaware when he’s being himself. I am unfamiliar with who that person is. Outside of music and Noah, you and Danny, I’m unsure what makes him happy.”
“Sit with him without any distractions, sir.” Wren lifted his gaze, a soft smile on his lips. “You do know him. You’ll see it. He’s less a squirrel and more...sweet and fun and passionate. All the things Noah fell in love with. That I did as well.”
“I’ll try that. Thank you, my boy.” Tucking Wren in the crook of his arm, Jared propelled him toward the office door. “I appreciate your advice. And I will watch those interviews. Though I might need a few gallons of whiskey to get me through it.”
Wren gave him a very serious nod. “You definitely will, sir. Especially the ones Trevor is in, which is...well, most of them. He even managed to get into some where Jamie was being interviewed as the frontman. And in the ones with both Jamie and Danny...I’m not sure how they both didn’t see how horrible he was. The fans don’t either, so perhaps I’m more aware now because I know them both. Noah always gets that look in his eyes when he sees the videos. I think Rhodey’s forbidden him from watching any more.”
Opening the door, Jared snorted. “Yes, well, that was probably more to protect Trevor.”
“Ew. Why are we talking about my nemesis again?” Dressed in a pair of artfully ripped jeans and a black mohair vee-neck sweater that showed off his diamond collar, Jamie looked up from where he tied his shoes by the door. “I think it’s really appropriate the frog in the wizard movies is named after him.”
Chuckling, Noah traced his finger along a dark red bite mark on the side of Jamie’s neck. “I don’t think I’ve seen that one, but now I’m curious.” He crouched down, brushing Jamie’s hands away and finished tying his shoes for him. “Go sit at the table before we leave so Wren can bandage up your knuckles again.”
“Yes, sir.” Jamie brightened, giving Wren a wide grin. “Can we use the rolls of bandage tape that some of the Doms like to whip out in the dungeon? I think we have some black left. It’ll look cool with my sweater.”
Hurrying off to the hall closet to take out the big medkit, Wren nodded as he passed. He brought the kit to the kitchen table. “I asked Quint to order some more of it, along with some pink Band-Aids since Danny’s been rather fond of the color lately.” He picked up a box of dinosaur Band-Aids and shook his head. “I am uncertain why he gave me these. He ordered a ridiculous amount. Maybe it was a mistake.”
Moving closer to Noah, Jared allowed some heat to enter his gaze. “If you sit and are very good, I’ll get on my knees and tie your shoes for you.”
“Is this your way of testing my stamina?” Noah lifted a brow at him, adjusting himself in his dark blue jeans before taking a seat beside Jamie. “Or a punishment for using up all the hot water while I tested my boy’s vocal chords? He really does have a beautiful voice, doesn’t he, Wren?”
Wren didn’t look up from where he was inspecting all the medical supplies. “He does, but my headphones are very effective, so I don’t know how his ‘practicing’ went. He always says the acoustics in the shower are excellent, though.”
Ah. My boy’s headphones make more sense now.
There wasn’t a hell of a lot Noah enjoyed more than making Jamie dance on the head of a pin—or his cock—for his amusement. Delightful sounds inevitably resulted from the torture. Edge King, Curtis had once called him during one such session between them back in the days when he’d been Noah’s sub.
“Stamina.” Jared chose the answer he knew his man would enjoy more. “And, yes, he does have a lovely voice. I particularly enjoy his high notes.” Running his fingers through Jamie’s hair, Jared tugged his head back to stare in his eyes before releasing him. “I need to test his range more often.”
“Falsetto.” Gaze on the bandages Wren chose, Jamie gently corrected Jared, his color going high. “It’s easier in tight pants or when getting it up the—” He rolled his lips between his teeth, eyes shining with humor. “Anyone could hit a high C with Noah.”
Watching him carefully, Jared looked for the signs of the ‘fun naughtiness’ Wren had alluded to. This was one of those genuine moments, when the boy let his playful side out. Not trying to behave like anyone other than himself.
Noah’s lip curved in a self-satisfied smirk. “It’s my own little contribution to the music world. You’re welcome.” His gaze followed Wren as he went to the sink to scrub his hands, his brow creasing slightly. “Take it easy with yourself, my boy. Have you felt any stiffness? I should have considered that before asking you to take care of Jamie, but I know you enjoy it.”
Having just reminded Wren himself to be careful of his hands, Jared nearly smacked himself in the head. So focused on Jamie, he’d lost himself in the moment and taken his attention away from the care his other boy required. Letting Noah take control of the moment, he stood back, ready to step in with his own firm reminder if required.
Jerking around and splashing water on the floor with the movement, Wren quickly shook his head. “I’m fine, sir. I want to do it.”
“That wasn’t the question you were asked, little raven. We just spoke about the condition of your hands, and I believe I was quite clear about what I expected. Answer honestly or the privilege will be denied you for a week.” In the kitchen, Jared grabbed a clean towel to hand to his boy. “You will not become Quint, or there will be consequences.”
If there was one thing Jared could absolutely go to the mat with Seth over, it was how he’d allowed the reins on Quint to become so loose—all but requiring him to take his place with Pike at times—that he’d lost some of his compass when it came to his submission. That, combined with the authority he needed to carry with him as a surgeon and physician, had resulted in a tendency to take control at other, less appropriate times.
Wren squared his shoulders, giving him a disgruntled look. “I have no interest in becoming him, sir. I do like him more now, but he rarely behaves as a sub at all.” He blew out a breath and frowned down at his hands. “I...yes, there has been some stiffness. I was able to write, though, so I can do this for Jamie.”
“My testy little bird, you’re going to sit down and ice your hands for a bit. If you hadn’t been writing so much, your hands would have more of a chance to heal.” Noah stood, going to the freezer. “If I wanted you to suffer more, I would have arranged it. Jared, can you please tend to Jamie’s knuckles while I remind our other boy who exactly is in charge here?”
“Gladly. Thank you for making sure our boys are both taken care of, love.” Pulling Jamie from the chair on which he sat, Jared deposited him on the edge of the island countertop, aware it would rankle Wren. A little tiny punishment that wouldn’t escape his boy’s notice. “There. Now I can see you properly.”
Jamie cast a furtive glance at Wren, looking like he’d just found himself marooned on the moon. “Sir, I’m on the counter.”
“I am aware.” Plucking the narrow, rainbow-striped bandage tape and some gauze from the med kit, along with a pair of blunt-nosed bandage scissors, Jared lifted one of Jamie’s hands by his wrist, making him startle. “Hmm... Your wrist is swollen. Did Quint X-ray this? He might have a hairline fracture.”
Nodding, Noah laid the ice pack over Wren’s hands, tapping his cheek when he scowled in the direction of the counter. “Yes, I made sure he checked everything. He said it might be a light sprain and to wrap it if it started giving him trouble, but he didn’t think it was necessary. His bedside manner might be exemplary, but other than Pike, he acts like he’s still treating soldiers and mercs.”
Repressing a smile at Wren’s discomfiture, Jared fussed over Jamie’s fingers extra-long. Noah’s observations about Quint were hardly fair, but rather than argue, he kept his commentary to himself. There were times in the desert when it had been all he or Seth could do to get Quint to detach a bit. No way in hell would he wish for things to go back in that direction. Overcorrection was preferable to vulnerability in these instances, and Jared knew from watching his boy that he would rather jump on a live grenade than have anything happen to those under his care.
“He is left handed.” Jared peeled the bandages gently from Jamie’s knuckles, not looking up as he spoke. “Quint might not have realized this is his dominant hand and therefore used more. Let’s wrap it, my boy, to keep you from flexing it.”
Jamie bent at the neck, watching Jared closely. “Sir, if you wrap it, I won’t be able to play piano. I wanted to lay down some tracks tonight for Danny to listen to, because I know it’d make him happy to hear the melody for our new song so he can distract himself giving me suggestions, but that won’t be possible with guitar which is the way I usually do it, and so I need to be able to play the piano.”
“Breathe.” Just listening to that run-on sentence had Jared winded, but Jamie’s care for Danny made him gentle his tone. “And there will be no piano or musical instrument playing for two weeks. You need time to heal.”
“But—” Making a frustrated, keening sound, Jamie snapped his mouth shut.
Interesting.
This wasn’t the kind of fun trouble Wren had been alluding to, but something about Jamie’s reaction tripped his notice, and Jared gave him an assessing look. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were angling for a spanking.”
Color racing high, Jamie shook his head a little too fast, glancing away.
Noah clucked his tongue, drawing Jamie’s attention to him. “I am this close to putting both you and Wren on very short leashes. You will care for your Doms’ property. You will take damn breaks when we tell you to, or the choice will be taken away from you. The next one of you who argues or pushes themselves too much will be taken off the rotation for the club for a month. And...I’ll bring in one of the other subs to do all your chores.”
Exchanging a wide-eyed look with Wren, Jamie took a deep breath and let it out slowly as Jared wrapped his wrist. It was clear that neither boy wanted to cause the Core the extra work their absences would necessitate, but there was a momentary glimmer of desire in Jamie’s eyes that had Wren giving him a minute headshake.
“Noah, will you cut this please?” Jared tipped his head at the bandage he held out, glancing at the wall clock. “Also, we’re late.”
Gaze following his, Noah sighed and came over to snip the bandage, his movements a little awkward, as they always were with smaller tools that weren’t paintbrushes. “That’s my fault, I completely lost track of time. I hope this doesn’t start the meeting off on the wrong foot.”
“We all came out at the same time. It is not your fault.” Finished with Jamie’s wrist, Jared started on his fingers with the thinner bandages. “Why don’t you go down with Wren and make our apologies. Everyone will understand.”
Noah shot him a grateful look before picking Wren up, giving his ass a light smack when he squirmed. “None of that. I gave you some space and you did something very silly. You’re getting a bit of pampering, whether you like it or not.”
Following them with his gaze, a hungry look in his eyes, Jamie inhaled sharply at the exchange. Jared studied him closely, glad he’d sent Noah on ahead. This was a prime example of those two different songs each danced to during these moments. Without a doubt, the music each loved was ingrained in their makeup, but it was Jamie’s job to learn to follow his Dom’s lead. Not the other way around. Something Jared had been trying to instill in the boy for years.
On the way to the door, Wren’s quiet words carried back. “May I put myself on speech restrictions, sir?”
“No. I want to hear exactly what you have to say, even if you’re being a grumpy little thing.”
“I’m not grumpy, sir. I dislike not being able to do simple tasks.”
“And it’s making you grumpy.”
Speaking of music, the interchange between Noah and Wren was Jared’s favorite tune. He found himself leaning toward it, wishing he could follow the conversation down the stairs. Knowing his boy was in good hands with his Dom settled something within him, allowing him to focus his attention on Jamie, whose heel had begun kicking against the base of the island, likely marring the paint.
“Stop kicking.” Bringing Jamie’s attention away from the now-closed door, Jared snipped the length of gauze. “Have you had any pain reliever this morning, Jamie?”
“Yes, sir.” Jamie’s heel thumped again, watching Jared’s face and earning a sharp look.
“If you’re looking to be disciplined, I will oblige you.” Busy with the gauze, Jared kept his tone deceptively mild. “Tell me what’s going through that head of yours.”
Slumping, Jamie flicked a glance at the door. “I don’t know why he plays with Wren the way I want to play with him. It’s like he’s the sadist, and likes to make me suffer by dangling those things out of my reach.”
Bits of white fell away, Jared wrapping the precisely cut pieces around each knuckle in motions he didn’t have to look at to perform. Free to meet Jamie’s gaze, he gave his boy a level look.
“I see. And what do you imagine would’ve happened if Wren had continued to press him? Do you think that smack would’ve been just as light? Or do you think things might’ve taken a turn for those kinds of lines you find so surprisingly unpleasant when they manifest?” Jamie had most certainly been listening to salsa music in his head while Noah was tuned to something darkly Classical, as Wren had pointed out. Asserting his alpha status, he leaned in, one hand on the counter, forcing Jamie to lean back. “Don’t assume because he’s using softer tactics that he’s in a soft mood, my boy. Your Dom is not playing around when it comes to your safety or your health. If you trigger him, you will have me to deal with, and I promise you won’t enjoy the kind of smack I give you.”
Blinking, lips parted, Jamie searched Jared’s face. When he spoke, his voice wasn’t above a whisper. “But I’ll know better, and that will feel good. Inside.”
“I see...” And, for the first time in perhaps ever with Jamie, Jared did see. Without time to delve into the particulars, and needing more room to sort out exactly how to handle his own response and newfound knowledge, Jared settled for returning his attention to his patient, not his boy. “How does this feel?”
Jamie flexed his hand experimentally, tearing his attention from Jared’s face. “Good. Are my knuckles supposed to throb so much though?”
“It’s normal. As long as it’s not higher than your pain threshold, we’ll keep an eye on it.” Keeping in mind what Wren had said earlier, Jared noted the nervous energy that poured from Jamie’s movements as soon as Noah had left the loft, leaving them alone, and the way his eyes seemed to plead with Jared to do something about his anxiety. “You’re fine, my boy. I’ll take care of you.”
Watching Jared re-wrap a loose piece of the cushioning gauze around his sutures so the bandages wouldn’t chaffe—a step that was often skipped, but that Jared had very much appreciated the times he’d found himself in a similar position—Jamie nodded. “Okay. I mean, yes, sir.”
There seemed to be nothing more to say on the matter, Jared doing his best to work with quick and quiet efficiency. “Almost done.”
“I like being quiet with you, sir. And I like when you...see me.”
Bent at the neck, Jared glanced up to find Jamie had been gazing down at the top of his head. “Why is that?”
Jamie shrugged a little. “You’re steady. Especially when you work. It makes me feel chill. And when you pay attention, you notice everything.”
“And you enjoy feeling ‘chill’?” The word felt strange on his tongue, but Jared did his best to relate to his boy.
“Yes, sir. It’s nice to find it outside the studio. Or singing in the shower.” Watching him with a calm intensity that made his green eyes a little unsettling to stare into, Jamie searched Jared’s face, more than a little surprised that his and Noah’s scatter-cat could reach these depths. “You have that flow vibe people only get when they know how to do something really well, kinda automatically.”
Jared wasn’t sure what a ‘flow vibe’ was, but it sounded rather like a hair cutting tool combined with a sexual aid. “I see... Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.” It was the most awkward exchange of compliments in the history of pleasant conversations. “Are you ready to go downstairs?”
“Yeah. We should get down there before trouble erupts and there’s no one to distract everyone.” Jamie hopped off the counter.
Catching him midair, Jared laughed at Jamie’s squawk of alarm. “We’ll stop whatever mayhem might be fomenting when I carry you into the bar.”
“Is foment like foam?”
Jared pulled the door shut behind them, stepping onto the landing. “You know, that’s a rather clever visual. But...I’m not entirely sure. I think they might be.”
“Huh.” Quiet until they reached the dungeon landing, Jamie made a thoughtful sound. “I don’t think you ever called me clever before.”
“Oh?” Pausing, Jared tried to think back on a time he might have, but couldn’t recall. “Well, I do think you’re clever. No one could have gotten as far as you have in life so young without a fair amount of application of intelligence alongside the raw talent.”
Fixing him with a smile that reminded Jared of how soft and sweet he could be when cuddled between him and Noah and Wren in the morning, Jamie wrapped an arm loosely around Jared’s neck to give him a soft kiss. “Thank you, sir.”
This was the Jamie Wren had been referring to. The one that rarely made an appearance because his internal stage was taken up with the boy—the man—that the world and even to a certain extent The Asylum and his Doms expected and required him to be. Moments like this, when he relaxed into himself, secure in the knowledge that someone else held the reins, he was as pretty a submissive as Noah deserved.
Jared cleared his throat roughly, quickening his steps down the stairs and shutting down thoughts and feelings he very much intended to explore later, both on his own and with Noah. It wasn’t often anymore that he learned something new about the lifestyle he’d led since his late teens, and he found the evidence that there were still things he might not understand about Dominance and submission both exciting and unsettling. The former feeling more welcome than the latter, but he’d take them both.
Holding Jamie a little tighter, he pushed through the door into the bar with a quiet, “Sorry we’re late.”
The apology barely seemed to register with anyone over Lawson and Noah’s raised voices, the two men already standing and facing one another in a way far better suited to the ring than what should be a very relaxed, if not business-like atmosphere. Not that they managed the latter very often.
“I’m not blaming you for what happened, but the goddamn ropes are there for a reason.” Lawson made a frustrated sound. “There was a series of events that led to everything that happened last night. Part of that was you choosing a time when I wasn’t there to consider equipment that wasn’t approved by the Board.”
Noah threw his hands up in the air. “I wasn’t doing it to fucking piss you off, Lawson. The best man in the business happened to stop by and that’s the opportunity I took. As for approval, I didn’t think it was necessary.”
“You do recall it’s in the guidelines for how we run things here?” Lawson arched a brow at him. “You can’t make decisions like that on your own. We’ve all agreed—”
“It was a fucking piece of equipment, Lawson. Maybe you need to stop being so fucking anal about every damn thing.”
Lawson’s green eyes darkened with anger. “And maybe you should resist the urge to do whatever you damn well please so we can keep this place in order and avoid accidents that could have been prevented.”
Setting Jamie down at the subs’ table next to Wren, Jared leaned in with the same air of no-nonsense authority he had in the loft. “No fidgeting. Behave.”
“Yes, sir.” Jamie placed his hands, palms down, on top of the table, giving Noah a worried look.
“It will be fine, love.” Whispering, he patted Jamie’s head.
Stepping up to Noah’s side, he winked at Jamie and Wren. The shift was almost imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know how they worked together—how they’d formed a bond that allowed a subtle sharing of power that amplified both strength and steadiness between them. As long as he was by Noah’s side, and Noah by his, the reassurance that there was a well to draw from allowed them both to breathe.
Jared inhaled, settling his palm at Noah’s hip where he barely brushed his thumb up and under the edge of his shirt. Warm skin, muscle, the touch of his wide leather belt were familiar and strong. Just like the man who’d been through so much and come out the other side stronger, kinder, and the caring whole person his mother and uncle had always wanted him to be.
Using his touch, Jared said this and more in a whisper that translated to one word. The one that had been the most important to him and to Noah from the beginning. Trust. With that step mastered, learning any choreography was possible. For The Asylum, for their family, for them both.
Uncertainty could be challenging to face, but so long as they continued to learn and grow, there would always be a way forward. The music would keep playing.
Sometimes, light and upbeat, sometimes dark and twisted, but always the rhythm and steps remained the same.
Lead and follow. Love and protect.
And always dance together.
Love how these guys work together. More now Jared tries with Jamie, always found them a little bit "cold" together.
ReplyDeleteAww! Jared and Jamie all sweet together is so cute
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