“Bastian’s work. He’s nearly unbeatable, though I try often enough, and occasionally give him a challenge.” Gus set the board up. “I will enjoy winning for a change.”
Jacob’s eyebrow raised. “Sebastian’s never beaten me at anything. Would you care to wager on the game?”
“What kind of a wager?” Gus asked, wondering if Jacob was a better bluffer than Bastian, who sucked at that particular skill.
“What’s your pleasure?” Jacob sat easily, pushing the long hair back with a growl.
“A blow job.” He wanted that mouth. He always wanted that mouth, and though he could take it, he wanted it offered, as Bastian would. Or at least as Jacob would if he were doing his best.
“And when I win?” Cocky little bastard.
“I believe a blow job is what’s on the table.”
He loved Bastian’s cock. Not as much as he loved Bastian’s mouth, but it was no hardship to take that cock into his mouth.
“All right. A blow job.” Jacob grinned over at him. “I bet you’re cute on your knees.”
“And I bet you’re not half as good at it as Bastian is,” he shot back.
“I never did it for a living. Less practice.”
He reached out and cuffed Jacob, not nearly as hard as he’d have liked. “Speak of him like that again and I shall gag you.”
One eyebrow shot up. “This body isn’t as weak as you’d like to believe, Gus. I would tread more carefully.”
“It isn’t weak at all, Jacob, but I know all its weaknesses. You will show your brother some respect while you are in my presence. It is hard enough to have you living in his stead; I will not hear you speak of him like that.” Gus growled and shook the dice, moving his pieces.
“I’ll respect him when he earns it from me.” Jacob took his own turn, the play much more aggressive than Bastian’s.
“Well, that will be never, given you haven’t spoken to him in ten years.”
He took his turn, adjusting his thinking a little for Jacob’s style. He definitely believed he had a better chance against Jacob than Bastian.
“I don’t have anything to say to him. You can’t trust an addict.”
Gus snorted. “Is that why you chose a man you could control so totally as your lover?”
The blow happened so fast that he didn’t see it coming, just a sure, sharp pop to one ear, making things ring. “My Walter is worth more than my brother will ever be.”
Gus growled, standing, hands balled into fists. “You wish to fight me? Because I am right here, and I will take you down.”
“I don’t want to fight you, but you won’t speak ill of my lover.” Jacob met him head-on, not even a flicker of fear in those eyes.
“And all I ask from you is the same courtesy!” Really, the man was impossible. It was no wonder Bastian had wound up hooked on cappers.
“He was my twin before he was your lover. He wronged me long before he met you.”
“I do believe that goes both ways, Jacob. He is a different man away from your sphere.”
“He would have to be.”
“Are we agreed? I shall not speak ill of your lover and you shall not speak ill of mine?” He would not let this point go.
“Fine.” The word was bitten out, almost snarled.
He sat back down slowly and took his turn, but the lighter mood they’d found between them was gone for now.
The game was quick, fierce, Jacob much more competitive than his gentler, more skittish lover.
The competition brought out the best in him, though, and he brought all his abilities to bear on the game. After all, it had been more than a day since he’d had that beautiful mouth.
Chapter Eight
T’ven
Walt was crawling out of his skin.
They had said they were going to try something tonight, something to bring Coby back where he belonged. In his body.
So Walt kept watching Sebastian. He couldn’t help it. He kept waiting for the eyes to change back to Coby’s, for Coby to say “baby” in that way he had.
So far, though, it was still Sebastian inside there.
Walt sighed and scratched idly at the back of his hand. He really, really wanted Coby back.
“Walt, you’re hurting yourself again.” Sebastian came over, took his hands, and held them.
Still not Coby, then. His Master would have been furious with him. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, holding tight to Sebastian’s hands. His body ached at the contact with the flesh it knew so well, and he wanted. It wasn’t right, but he did.
“Me, too.” Sebastian moved closer, hugging him, cheek on his shoulder, so quiet, so sweet.
“I want,” Walt whispered, hands still only because they were held in Sebastian’s.
“You want?” Sebastian’s hands let his go to slide over his back, petting and stroking.
He shuddered, body responding to the touch of hands he knew so well, even if they weren’t actually Coby’s right now. He nodded and sobbed. “I want. I need him so badly. I’m sorry, I know it’s wrong, that you aren’t him.”
“Well, I’m not him, but I’m close and here and we can make each other feel good...”
Walt bit his lip. He wanted that so much, not as much as he wanted Coby to be back, but to have those hands touch him... “Do you think they would be upset if we did?”
“No. No, they wouldn’t.” Those eyes were warm, friendly, a little shiny from tears.
“Oh. Oh, good.” His own eyes were shiny, he was sure, but he sniffed and didn’t cry.
Sebastian nodded, then leaned to kiss him, the kiss slow and sweet and overwhelming. Not Coby, but it felt so good. His mouth opened on a sob, hands clinging tightly to Sebastian.
Sebastian held him close, petting him, touching him, trying to ease him as that tongue took his mouth. Oh, yes, his body craved this, craved the touch and love of his Master. He pushed away the thought that this wasn’t his Master, and just concentrated on the familiar scent, touch.
Those hands were still sure and warm on him, focused on his pleasure, making him gasp and twist. He pushed into each touch, needing too much to worry that he had not been given permission to move. Everything felt so good, so warm, the touches necessary, soothing him.
Walt whimpered and leaned back against the couch, wanting his lover’s weight on him, needing it. Sebastian followed, lips on his chest, on his nipples, fingers petting his thighs.
His legs spread automatically. “Need you. Oh, need to feel you inside me.”
“Oh. Oh, I...” Sebastian gave him a slightly panicked look. “I haven’t done that in a long, long time...”
“Please,” he begged, legs spreading further. “I... It will help.”
“I... Do you have lube? Something slick?”
Walt nodded. “Yes. In the drawer in the coffee table. In the drawer next to the bed. In the cabinet in the bathroom. In a cupboard in the kitchen.”
Sebastian chuckled, eyes warming. “The closest?” Then he leaned close, whispered. “We have it in little handmade pots everywhere.”
Walt giggled. “Coffee table. There.”
They laughed together, Sebastian slicking his fingers after the little tube was found. “How do you like it?”
“Oh. Hard. Please. I need to feel it.” He needed so much.
Sebastian got between his legs, two fingers pushing deep inside him, another joining it in short order.
“Oh!” He shivered, eyes rolling back in his head as he rode Sebastian’s fingers.
“You’re so pretty, Walt. Honest.” Sebastian kissed his chin, his jaw.
He whimpered, hands sliding along Sebastian’s chest. Coby called him beautiful. But he would take Sebastian’s word and let it fill the places that ached for his Master.
That heavy cock filled him, pushing in deep and slow, stretching him. With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine it was Coby.
Then he felt bad for using Sebastian so, and he opened his eyes again and tried not to feel guilty
that he was doing this with Sebastian. It went around in such circles in his mind and he whimpered.
“Shh. Shh. We’re just making each other feel good is all, yeah?” Sebastian’s voice was so gentle.
He nodded, looking at the sweet eyes. It wasn’t Coby, but Sebastian did care, was offering comfort.
“Good.” Bastian started moving, pushing deep, fucking him good and hard.
He wrapped his legs around Bastian, panting, moaning, letting everything go but the feelings, the sensations. One of Bastian’s hands wrapped around his cock, tugging, pulling.
“Oh! Yes! Master! Please.” He bucked between hand and cock, flying.
“Yeah. Come on, Walt. It’s good. It’s all good.”
At the command, he came, body flying apart as his pleasure pushed from him.
“Oh, that’s... Oh...” Heat filled him, the cock inside him jerking.
He whimpered, holding on tight, just floating on it. Warm arms wrapped around him, held him tight. He rubbed his cheek against Jacob -- Sebastian’s -- skin.
“Shh... We’re good. We’re gonna be good.”
He nodded, choosing to believe. Because if he didn’t, he would not survive.
Chapter Nine
Rannalin
The first psychic hadn’t worked. Or the second, or third, or the priest, or the metaphysician. They all did have the same advice, though. He and Sebastian needed to go together to some temple in the outskirts of Belloch, and the monks there would help. Fine.
Fucking wonderful.
Excellent.
Damn it.
Coby growled and paced, skin on fire, stomach roiling. Four weeks. Four fucking weeks he’d been stuck in this body, and he wanted out. Now. The edginess had been creeping up on him, the urge to hurt something, break something, cut something deep and unmistakable.
Finally he dressed in the least ridiculous clothes Sebastian owned and stalked out into the main room, glaring at Gus. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up.”
“No you’re not.” Gus got up and put his bulk between Coby and the door. “You’re going to let me help you.”
“Get out of my way.” The words Gus spoke caused reactions in his body, as if they were often spoken, familiar.
“No. We’ll go to the playroom. I know what you need, Jacob. And it isn’t a good hard fuck.”
“How can you know what I need? I’m not Sebastian.” He was shivering, aching, fury rising.
“Your body is his. I know all about the needs that are chasing through your veins, Jacob. I understand the demon that rides your skin. And I know how to quiet it.” Gus just wasn’t moving; in fact he was slowly backing Jacob up.
“I need to go out. I’m tired of being in here.” He hated being herded; he hated being here. He hated everything.
“Come with me to the playroom while I’m still asking nicely, Jacob.” Gus growled the words and this damned body he was stuck in fucking vibrated at the sound.
“I have to get out of here!” He screamed the words, the panic in them startling him.
“Right. We’ll do it the hard way.”
For someone so big, Gus certainly could move quickly. He hadn’t done it since the first day Jacob had found himself in Sebastian’s body, but suddenly Gus had his arm behind his back and was pushing him down the hall.
“Let me go! Damn, you! I’m not Sebastian!” He struggled, hair flying.
“Your body is, and I’ll be damned if I let you go elsewhere when I know exactly what you need.”
Damn it, that growl just settled right in his balls, no matter how much he wanted to ignore it, to fight it. “What do you know about what I need? What’s wrong with Sebastian?” What was this burning?
“He is a human being. He has urges.” Gus got him into the playroom. A room they hadn’t been in since that first day. “Will you submit willingly or must I cuff you?”
“I’m not a sub. Don’t do this. Gus. Don’t do this. I just need to get away.”
“No, Jacob. Sebastian needs this. This body needs. You will just have to accept it.” Gus moved him to the dresser and grabbed the cuffs with one hand before wrestling him down onto the bed, the big man more or less sitting on him to attach the cuffs to his wrists.
He fought violently, tugging and pulling, heart pounding and skin sheened with sweat. Nothing helped. The damned cuffs were surprisingly strong. They were attached to his wrists, and then one to the other, Gus dragging him back up and over to the chains that hung from the ceiling. In a surprisingly short time he was hanging from the ceiling like some piece of meat.
“Stop fighting so hard,” Gus growled, slapping his ass hard enough he was sure a handprint was left behind.
“Let me go!” He wanted his own fucking life back.
“No. And if you can’t shut up, I will gag you. I may do it anyway, but that will make my mind up for me.”
The cuffs were attached to his feet as well, but they weren’t spread or chained. The threat of it was there, though, in the weight of the heavy leather around his ankles.
“Gus. When did you stop being reasonable again?” They’d actually reached a semblance of friendship, spending time discussing their kinks, their interests.
“When you stopped listening to the body you’re in. Now shut up.” Another slap hit his ass, the other cheek this time.
He growled, trying to jerk away.
“I will fill you to begin. If you were to be silent and still, you could concentrate on the sensations, make it a meditation on your body.”
He stomped his foot once, almost sobbing. “I tell Walt to focus. Fuck, I worry about him.”
“You don’t need to worry about Walt today. You need to worry about yourself.” Gus came around in front of him, a frown on his face, a gag in his hand, shaped like the head of a penis.
“It’s my job to worry about Walt.” He turned his face against his arm, hiding his mouth.
Gus’ hand slid around the back of his head, turning his face, exposing it. “That is Bastian’s job at the moment.”
When he opened his mouth to protest, the gag was slipped right in.
“The shape was taken from my own cock,” Gus told him. “So you hold me on your tongue.”
Fuck, he was mad. He hadn’t asked for this, hadn’t deserved it. He had been living his life.
Gus went around behind him again, fingers tying the gag tight before sliding over his skin, pushing his hair out of the way to wander down along his spine. “I am going to give you what you need, Jacob. What Bastian’s body needs.”
He needed to move, to run, to tear his own skin off his body. Didn’t Gus understand?
“Focus on my touches. No thinking. Just feeling.” Those big hands slid along his spine, teased all the way down to his crease.
Sebastian’s body pushed toward the touch for a heartbeat before Jacob pulled away.
Gus growled. “The longer you fight me, the longer it will be before the need eases, Jacob.”
He groaned, shaking, tongue working on the gag.
“Trust me. I will give you what you need.” Gus’ mouth slid over the skin of his shoulder, fingers sliding to tease his hole.
He shook, thighs tight, legs spreading, hips rocking.
“Yes, that’s it.” Gus’ voice was a low growl, intimate. “Just relax into it.” One thick finger slid into him.
His heart was pounding, wrists twisting in the bonds. He groaned low, eyes rolling. He needed out of this; he needed his Walt. One finger became two, two became three, Gus whispering perversions along his skin, promises of wicked, wicked things to come.
The burn under his skin became a burn deep inside, the stretch easing him, loosening his chest so he could breathe. Then Gus’ fingers disappeared and something wide and thick pushed into him, cold and unyielding.
The chain clanked as he jerked, pulling away, trying to escape.
“Trust me, Jacob. I know what your body needs.”
It was inexorable and he could not escape it. Deeper and d
eeper it went, filling him until he thought he would split in two. He keened, every muscle tremoring, head shaking. No more. Please. No more. Finally it was seated inside him, thick and wide all the way through, heavy inside his body.
Gus gave the base a tap, making it shift. He groaned, tugging on the chains, body swaying. Gus hummed and growled, fingers sliding down his legs, nails scraping as he went.
Then Gus came around into sight again and attached a slender chain between his -- Sebastian’s -- nipple rings. A weight was placed on the chain. Everything in his body shuddered, the weight, the dull ache welcome, the sensations washing through him.
“That’s it, just focus. Your body is all you need to pay attention to.”
He took a deep breath, leaned into the bondage, heart and mind reaching for Walt, for his lover, his heart. He could feel the way Walt moved against him, melting into his every touch, pliant and his. The weight on the nipple rings was set moving again, the base of the plug inside him jostled.
Coby groaned, wanting the feel of his lover back, not wanting to be trapped inside Sebastian.
There was a sharp sound behind him, like leather against flesh. “Ready?” Gus asked.
He lifted his head, confused, frowning. Ready for what?
Something whistled through the air and thudded against the top of his ass, stinging hard.
He roared, the gag muffling the sound, fighting to pull his hands free.
Another blow landed, and then another, each one coming in quick succession against his skin. His brother accepted this willingly? Needed it? He never struck his lover. Never.
“Let go, Jacob, let your body take what it needs, let it find peace.” Two more thuds came and then the sound of the whistling changed. This time, nine sharp hits landed across his shoulders, his hair partially shielding his skin.
He fought as long as he could, but Sebastian’s body betrayed him, relaxing, moving into the blows, begging for them. Again and again the leather kissed his skin. He could feel the welts push up, could feel the skin split, and the blood slowly drip along his skin.
“Come whenever you need to,” Gus said.
Come? He wasn’t excited, didn’t need. Still the words sent a wash of pleasure pouring through him, balls going tight as spunk slid on his skin.
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