Love & Stitches at The Asylum: Part Fifty-Two
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The noise of the bar rushed up the stairwell, mostly consisting of some loud pre-game music. Judging by the amount of words in the lyrics Jared couldn’t understand, he wondered if the choice had been Keiran’s, some of the ‘Sensual Bachata’ he’d been listening to more of recently. Definitely a foreign language. Someone—probably Curtis—had set up the large poker table in the middle of the room. The sofas from the cigar lounge were under the windows along the long side of the room, and electric lanterns hung from intervals along the rafters, casting the bar in a harem-like glow.
Completing the picture were swaths of jewel toned silks that were hung like hammocks or swings beneath. In a bright yellow one, wearing the tight leather outfit he’d also been wearing the night he and Wren had misbehaved, Avery lounged with his feet toward the ceiling. As if he planned to break into an acrobatic routine at any moment.
Noise followed down the stairs before the door swung shut, Curtis hollering something—to Reed most likely—before he let out a whoop. Clearly in high spirits.
Exchanging a look with Noah, Jared approached the green baize table with its leather padded rim that discouraged drinks from being rested anywhere nearby. Usually, a service sub held a drink for any Dom who desired to imbibe, or acted as a table on all fours, where an ashtray might be rested.
Name cards had been placed at precise intervals in front of each of eight chairs that had clearly been measured for distance from each other and from the table. Delicious smells wafted from the galley, the door partly open, light and heat spilling out. If chocolate and roast beef were a thing, then Keiran had figured out how to make brownies Wellington.
“I’m afraid to disturb the symmetry.” Running his fingers along the top of one black, leather backed chair, Jared let his appreciation show in his gaze as Curtis fairly tumbled out of the stairwell.
In a classic sailor uniform.
Glancing his way, Noah curved his lips. “I think we need to have more themed nights around here. I’m starting to understand the appeal of dressing up more and more.” He bounced Jamie a bit in his arms, adding to the trail of feathers. “And our boys seem to get into it.”
A slanted grin accompanied the lowering of Curtis’ gaze before he glanced up at Noah. “Evening, sir.”
“Good evening, Curtis.” Noah brought Jamie over to the couches to set him down. He spoke to Jamie, but his words seemed to be for every sub within hearing. “I expect best behavior tonight. Enjoy yourself, but show whatever Dom might try to win you he’ll be in for more than trying to get you in line.”
“Yes, sir. I hope you have a great time tonight. You’re gonna win first pick.” Fidget spinner whirring in his hands, Jamie tipped his face up. “You look and smell delish.”
Jared squeezed Wren’s hand, leading him to the sofa next to Jamie. Letting him get settled, Jared crouched to place his hands on Wren’s knees. “You heard your Dom, little raven. I know I can count on you to behave, but what I want from you is to let yourself go with the man who claims you. Nothing would please me more. But...” He raised his brows. “What is rule number one? Tell me you remember.”
Giving him a very serious look, Wren spoke in a calm, level tone. “No obeying idiot Doms, sir. I will never forget that one.”
“Good boy.” Standing, Jared passed his thumb over Wren’s lower lip, cupping his cheek as he let his gaze run appreciatively over his boy. “Someone is going to be a very lucky Dom.”
“Two someones.” Noah straightened and held Jamie’s gaze. “I went over your limit list, little cat. I’ve added a few things I’m not comfortable with you doing with anyone besides me and Jared, just for clarity. Tell me your safeword.”
“Cherry.” Jamie passed the point of his tongue over his lips like he tasted the juice from one of his favorite treats. “Am I allowed to know what you added, sir?”
Noah’s lips twitched slightly. “Of course. Impact play, penetration, oral…”
Blinking a few times, Jamie swallowed, then nodded, seeming to quickly forget that they’d had a conversation that the evening would be no-holds-barred. “Yes, sir.”
Chuckling, Jared nudged Wren’s knee. “If this keeps up, I’ll need to get him a cat suit with a nice little bum hole so we can reward him for his good behavior.”
“I’m teasing, little cat.” Noah let out a soft laugh and kissed Jamie’s forehead. “I did add humiliation as a hard limit, along with cock and ball torture. If I see anyone doing either of those to you, I’m not sure how I’ll respond, so I’m avoiding the issue. It’s a me problem, not you.”
“Thank you, sir. I wouldn’t trust anyone but you and Jared to play with me that way. I appreciate your adding those to my list. I don’t want you to have to limit yourself, because I trust you completely, but...” Jamie wrinkled his nose. “Someone else doesn’t have to live with the damage.”
Music lowering a little, Curtis aimed the remote at the lights next, bringing up the spots over the card table so they pooled over the baize. Two brand new decks of cards, unopened, lay at the dealer’s spot, along with piles of chips in different colors. He crossed to examine these, as if he might’ve been the one to put them there and wanted to make certain no one had messed with them. Behind him, along the wall to the left of the cigar lounge door, was a long, shallow table that held ten glass jars, each with a nametag in careful cursive in front.
Checking in with his boy a final time, Jared followed Noah’s example. “Safeword, love?”
“Red, sir.” Wren glanced toward the table, taking a deep breath. His throat worked as he looked up at Jared. “May I have a blindfold, sir? It will make things much less tempting.”
“No, love. You can do this.” Slipping one knuckle under Wren’s chin, Jared locked their gazes. “I believe in you. You will do this for me.”
Wren exhaled and nodded. “Yes, sir. I will.”
Coming out from the galley, Keiran dabbed at his face with a dishcloth, taking off the apron covering a sleek, dark red silk pair of pants and what looked like a snug, matching vest. He padded over in rhinestone decorated slippers. “I have so many goodies for everyone. Since you’re the first ones here, you want a little sample? I have oysters—not for you, I know you don’t like them.” He tipped his head toward Wren. “But plenty of pretzels and some nice, spicy things. Oh, and of course, chocolate. A lot of sexy food.”
“Oysters would be delicious, my boy.” Jared swept Keiran with an assessing look that turned warm as he enjoyed the hug of the vest at his waist and chest, how the light brown of his skin warmed even further with the sheen of light sweat along his arms from the galley’s heat. “You are looking quite edible yourself, this evening.”
Lips curving, Keiran did a little spin. “Jacks outdid himself. I’ve been wanting something like this for so long—and a reason to wear it. Touch it, he found fabric that feels like absolute heaven.”
“As tempting as your offer is, I will wait until your Dom is here to give permission or to invite my touch himself.” Knowing the rules tonight would be relaxed at some point, Jared decided not to start things off with a potential misunderstanding. “May I take a raincheck?”
Keiran gave him a graceful little bow. “Of course, sir. I won’t be far.” He rose up, a sultry smile on his lips before he spun away, heading back to the galley. “I’ll be right back with those treats.”
“These trousers are definitely too tight.” Adjusting himself with one hand, Jared patted Noah’s arm with the other before he went to the bar to order a drink from Drew, who’d slipped in at some point when he’d been occupied with Wren and Jamie. “A whiskey sour. Not too strong. I’m going to split my two drinks across four.”
Dressed in a bellhop outfit complete with red cap and a jacket with gold braid and brass buttons, Drew smiled up at him. “Yes, sir.” Then frowned. “Stephan said I shouldn’t assume everyone is a Dom just because I have a submissive personality.” Drew slid his gaze to his Dom, checking in, then grinned again. “Did I get that right?”
Stephan inclined his head to his boy, his gaze warming with approval. “Yes, my boy, Jared is a Dom. Check for collars or cuffs, that will usually give you the first clue. Those without either can be harder to tell, but manners are fairly universal and a sub will correct you if you get it wrong, which isn’t a bad thing. Simply remember so you can go with what they’re most comfortable with next time.”
“Go what they’re most comfortable with.” Nodding to himself as he repeated the words, Drew hopped up on a stool to grab one of the Glencairn glasses, rather than executing Jamie’s maneuver of jumping in the air to reach it, before he addressed Curtis who had joined him behind the bar. “I’m not participating in the sub pool, but I am very much enjoying being part of things, sir. Thank you for having me.”
Curtis bent his forearm with the cuff on his right wrist. “I’m extra. You have to do all sorts of acrobatics to figure out whether I’m a ‘sir’ or not. It can change from hour to hour some days. But not usually.”
That had a smile curving Stephan’s lips. “Also a perfect example of someone correcting you. Unless asked otherwise, for the rest of the night you will address Curtis by his name.”
“Yes, sir.” Blowing out a breath, the glass seemingly forgotten in his hand—which was just as well because it was the wrong one for Jared’s drink—Drew nodded again. “Thank you for having me, Curtis.”
“No prob.” Curtis held out his fist. “Pound it.”
Instead of making a fist, Drew held out two fingers, then changed to a flat palm. “Paper beats rock, right?”
For a moment, Curtis looked confused, then snorted. “Yep. You got me. You win. I’ll be your minion until we go to the dungeon.”
Drew’s eyes widened. “No, s— Curtis. I’m not a Dom. I can’t take you to the dungeon.”
“Are we cheating already?” Coming out of the stairwell, Reed grinned at Curtis, his arms full of oversized cushions in different colors that matched the silks. He dropped them on the floor by the poker table. “The last person I woulda ever expected it from. Way to get ahead of the game, Drew, but I’m pretty sure we’re not allowed to call dibs.”
Jared took mercy on the poor, confused sub, who looked like someone had dropped one of Wren’s medical textbooks on his lap and asked him to recite a complex procedure. “Drew? The whiskey sour is best made in one of those glasses.” He pointed to a lowball on the shelf, then the glass in Drew’s hand. “That is a Glencairn. You can impress Lawson by pouring his bourbon in it.”
“Yes, sir. Collars, cuffs, wrists, lowballs, Glencairn. Got it. And no cheating.” At the last part, he turned away to grin at Reed. “I got the joke.”
“Good man.” Reed propped his hip against the closest stool, his bare chest shimmery with some of his favorite body glitter, his smooth, form-fitting red leathers like a second-skin revealing the toned muscles of his thighs. He studied the other sub for a moment. “Were we supposed to be in a special uniform to show we’re off the menu? Did I miss a text?” He patted his leathers, which didn’t have pockets. “Shoot, I think I lost my phone again.”
Performing a hand wavy maneuver that ended with producing Reed’s phone from behind his ear, Curtis winked as he handed it to his boy. “Nope. No uniform. And... I got you the unbreakable glass thing this time. A whole pack of them. I think we should sue the company. They’re not living up to their reputation.”
Taking a sip of the drink Drew had placed on a coaster in front of him, Jared lifted one brow. “I think Lawson has enough work to do. Judging by the light coming from under his office door, he plans to stand us up.”
“Naw, he’s just taking some time with Matt to make sure he’s cool with everything.” Reed looked over as the door opened again, nudging his chin at Pike, who came in ahead of Quint and Seth. “Heya, trouble.”
Pike wrinkled his nose at Reed, spotted the pile of pillows, and immediately plunked down on them. His snug, dark blue shorts had him sliding sideways, almost falling into the legs of the table before Quint grabbed him around the waist. “I’m not trouble tonight. I’m gonna be the best sub outta the lot of you, just you wait. I bet Quint I wouldn’t get so much as a warning. Seth’ll owe him a thousand bucks if I fu—”
“You are not off to a very good start.” Quint’s eyes danced with laughter as he covered Pike’s mouth with his hand. His outfit wasn’t much different from what he usually wore, though his shirt was open a few buttons lower—which might be because they were missing, but it was hard to tell.
“Good evening, my boy.” Jared turned to admire Quint, despite the lack of costume. Though he had Pike in his sights, he knew it wouldn’t be too many poker nights before he claimed his own sub for some fun in the dungeon—there wouldn’t always be the new Dom/new sub rule. “Would you like me to get you a sewing kit for Christmas?”
The edges of Quint’s lips quirked. “I’ll likely need one by then, sir, thank you.”
Coming from the direction of the gym, Jacks breezed in carrying a pile of faux fur as high as his head. “Who wants blankets?” His voice was muffled behind the mound. “Come and get it before I walk on you.”
Pike slipped from Quint’s grasp and ran over to Jacks, starting to grab a blanket, then stopping and clearing his throat. “Yeah, a blanket would be awesome, sir. I’m practically fu—freakin’ naked. But it’s cute, right? Like one of those hot go-go boys in the club.”
“I can’t wait to see, as soon as I can get out from behind this wall of furries.” Jacks shifted forward so the top blanket slid off on top of Pike, something that looked like a teddy bear head flopping awkwardly and weighing it to one side.
Voice a little muffled, Pike turned, holding out the blanket over his arms, walking without taking the teddy bear head away from his face so he could see where he was going. “If you can’t see me, I ain’t being bad. Imagine all the stuff I can get away with now. I’m stealing all the cookies.”
Sub invisibility cloaks. Definitely something Jared hoped technology never managed. “Life with magic. Not necessarily better.”
“Here.” Curtis came around the bar to take the blankets from Jacks, then settled them on the empty sofa. “Let’s let folks take them as they need them.” He petted one blanket, seeming to admire how Jacks had managed to make them all look like plushie imitations of bearskin rugs. “These are going to be great in the littles’ loft.”
Jacks plucked little brown strands off his outfit—a white poet’s shirt open at the throat, and skin tight latex trousers that left nothing to the imagination. He looked like the Goblin King come to life, complete with the blond wig.
Catching Jared’s confused stare, he grinned. “My lucky sub is going to come to my labyrinth.”
“If you’re making a play for Pike, sir…” Quint herded Pike toward the sofa, then the cushions, trying to pull the blanket off Pike’s face while he giggled and evaded him. “Make sure it’s padded.”
“Not revealing who my Dance Baby’s gonna be.” Rubbing his hands together, Jacks approached the bar. “Craft beer, please, Drew.”
“Yes...” Drew’s gaze glided over Jacks, searching for a clue. “Um... Bowie was probably a switch, right?”
“Really?” Clutching Shea’s hand, Danny blinked at Drew through his sunglasses. He tilted his head to one side, pulling the sleeves of the large, sparkly purple hoodie he appeared to be wearing with nothing visible underneath over his hands. “I would’ve seen him as a very fashionable, very chaotic Dom.”
Handing Jacks his beer, Drew shook his head. “I think everybody’s got a teensy weensy bit of switch in them. I heard Jared rogering Noah in the cells one night. It proves it.”
Jared choked on his drink, unable to immediately respond as it sloshed over his knuckles when he pounded his own chest with the side of his fist.
“Is that what all the misfit subs think?” Shea made a face, exchanging a look with Jacks. “That explains why they’re such mouthy shits. I don’t think me and you will ever earn our leathers in their eyes.” He wrapped his arms around Danny, snuggling him close. “Good thing we ain’t looking in their direction.”
Picking up a bar towel, Drew quietly handed it to Jared, eyes down. He went back to his work, cutting up a few orange slices for the drink well, while Jared set to work cleaning the drink’s stickiness off his fingers and his leathers.
“I got ya something, Danny.” From his upside down perch on his hammock-swing, Avery motioned Danny over, speaking quietly as he handed the sub a small white stack of what looked like business cards. “I think they’ll help with what we talked about.”
Danny glanced at them, nodding before he turned to Shea. “Sir, Drew isn’t one of the misfit subs anymore. He never really was.” He paused beside Stephan, who was giving Shea a cold look. “That thing we talked about, sir… Shea has reasons for not liking them and how they treat people.”
“I am aware.” Stephan shook his head, sighing a little. “Drew is well away from them, I just hope people remember that he is.”
Placing one of the cards in front of Jared, Danny shot his Dom a pleading look before moving on to give Noah another one of the cards.
Jared tossed the towel he’d been using to clean himself up into the small hamper behind the bar, then lifted the card. It was, indeed, about the size of a business card. The thick white card stock slipped cooly between the pads of his fingers, its gilded lettering winking in the lantern light above the bar.
It read,
Please, Sir, ask someone else to play.
Love, Danny DiMarco. Jacks’, Shea’s, and Rhodey’s boy.
Blinking at it, Jared frowned. It wasn’t as if he’d planned to wager for Danny—unless he did very well and could chance attempting to win more than one sub—but something about seeing that the boy was placing himself out of the running created a hollow feeling in his chest. It had been in the back of his mind that at some point the poker nights might give him the opportunity to gently play with the sub in a way that would’ve been off limits at any other time.
Except, Danny was placing himself off-limits.
A hard limit, line drawn in the sand, that he had to respect.
He slipped the card into his back pocket, then tossed back the rest of his drink. “Little raven? Cigar, please.”
Rising from his place on the couch, Wren circled behind the bar and took out Jared’s box of cigars, clipping one and lighting it for him. He handed it over the bar to Jared, stepping sideway to let Drew pass as Stephan motioned him over. “I believe the night is going well so far, isn’t it, sir?”
The door to Lawson’s office opened. He stopped short as Danny walked over to him and handed him one of his cards. Halting him with a hand on his shoulder, Lawson leaned down, speaking to Danny softly. Then he shook his head, holding out his hand to take the rest of the cards before motioning him toward the sofa.
Wearing a well fitting and elegant tuxedo that was a far cry from the prom version he’d worn in the ring to emcee Lawson’s challenge against Curtis during his first weeks at The Asylum, Matt appeared to be every Dom’s High Protocol wet dream. His steps were precise, his pacing behind Lawson perfect. The angle at which his gaze had lowered in no way hampered his movements as he went behind the bar to fix Lawson a bourbon. The air of grace and calm around him, the way he had fully sunk into his submission, was truly beautiful to behold.
“Yes, it’s going very well, little raven.” Jared saluted Lawson with his glass, his cigar in his other hand. “Very nice, my man.”
“Thank you, Jared.” Lawson tipped his glass in Jared’s direction in cheers before reaching over the bar and handing the cards to Curtis. “Put these in the recycling please.”
“You betcha.” Glancing at them, Curtis hesitated as he took them from Lawson’s hand. “Well, that’s one way to do it.”
“Do what?” Jacks perked up from where he’d been fussing over a plush zebra head that had been integrated into a black and white faux fur throw. “Is that the new social media card we designed for him and Jamie? They weren’t supposed to come in until next week. We’re going to autograph them and send them to fans.”
Lawson shook his head, taking a sip of his bourbon. “No, that would be a way to increase your boy’s popularity, not an attempt to do the opposite. He was the last one I would have expected to stack the deck, never mind against himself, but I suppose I should have expected it. I’ve cleared up the matter.”
Taking a long draw of his cigar, Jared enjoyed the roll of the smoke over his tongue before he released it from between his lips. “Would you care to share with the class?”
“Curtis, hand me the bet book.” Lawson placed his glass on the bar, holding his hand out.
A smile playing about his lips, Curtis plucked the leather bound and gilded book from its place of honor, handing it and the glossy black fountain pen to Lawson.
Flipping open the book, Lawson tapped his finger at the top of the page, where several of the subs had placed bets on who would get the most Doms trying to win them. Most had wagered that it would be Danny. “He’s making sure he doesn’t place as the favorite.”
“But...” Cigar poised at his lips, Jared shook his head, trying to puzzle out why the sub would limit himself and his enjoyment of the experience everyone would have loved to give him. “Why?”
Rhodey plucked up the card Noah had placed on the bar in front of him, his eyes narrowing before he crumpled it in his fist. “For the same reason he keeps in the background for most things. He doesn’t like the spotlight on him. But this isn’t a fucking stage.” He glanced toward Danny.
“Don’t.” Shea straightened, catching Rhodey’s eye. “You getting tough with him won’t help. We’ll make sure he doesn’t get so many bets that he feels like he’s ahead of anyone else. Me and Jacks are working on shit with him. It’s not something you can help with, so fucking leave it.”
Jaw hardening, Rhodey held Shea’s gaze for a moment. Then nodded. “Fine. But he better enjoy himself or I’ll fucking make sure he does.”
Standing, Jamie sidled up to Wren and whispered something to him, cupping his hand around his co-sub’s ear.
Wren’s eyes widened, lips parting as he shook his head, then paused. He whispered back to Jamie, jumping when Noah snapped his fingers at them.
“No.” Noah pointed to the sofa. “Go sit and snuggle. We’ve had enough scheming.”
Pulling a pout, Jamie flounced away, killing every bit of edginess his new hairstyle afforded. At least the flapping feathers didn’t see him flying into the rafters.
Watching him, Jared enjoyed his cigar, twirling it between his fingertips as he examined the cut of the leaf that wrapped the rest of the tobacco. “We’ll see.”
Seth came in from the outside, bringing a mix of cold wind and damp air that smelled of ozone with him. It was unseasonably cold for this time of year, but the air smelled crisp and clean. “Where’s my pixie?” He held up a paper wrapped bundle. “Someone needs a present.”
Still playing with Quint, enjoying his game of having his co-sub preventing him from walking into things with the blanket over his head, Pike perked up and moved toward the sound of Seth’s voice. “Right here, sir. I’m invisible, but I bet you can find me. Quint’s come close a few times.”
“Hm... Let me see...” Making loud, obvious steps that registered clearly above the conversational hum and music, Seth walked toward his boys.
Jared envied the carefree playfulness Seth had found with his trio, wondering how he’d missed the man’s ability to be anything other than a soldier and a hardened merc. He’d had some lightness with Quint when they’d served together, but the constant threat of action had kept them all more than a little on edge. So much so that when Jared had come home for leave, he’d needed to spend at least twenty-four hours of his precious time in a dark, cool, quiet room well away from anyone before he could approach enough calm control to spend any of it with Noah. Even now, he preferred somber, dark colors that didn’t remind him of the glare of the desert sun.
“Where could he be...? Quint? Have you seen my little prince?” Seth grinned at his boy. “I’ve got a very special delivery for him. Fit only for a pixie prince.”
Jared’s eyes narrowed. With Bizzy, nothing was entirely simple. Whatever the ‘special delivery’ it was guaranteed to be meant as much for Pike’s enjoyment as it would have another purpose if he were giving it to him in front of the Core.
One thing was certain. Even if they hadn’t sat down at the poker table yet?
The games had already begun.
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Oooooh I’m so excited for this poker night! I’m also so sad I have to wait till next weekend for more of it. Lol
ReplyDeleteOh boy. Drama. Can't wait to see who wins who. Lawson and Jamie, or Noah and Matt, would sizzle
ReplyDeleteCan't waiit for it to start!!
ReplyDeleteWhat is Seth up to? I truly love that man!
ReplyDelete