roneal | (no subject)

(no subject)

The market is, objectively speaking, a miserable place. Precious few of the merchandise are happy to be there, nude and bound and collared - sometimes even caged - free for every prospective customer to examine. Few of the customers are happy either. Prices are high, and the press of so many bodies create a stifling atmosphere.

All in all, it is exactly what Jade had expected. He strolls leisurely through the market, not particularly bothered by what is going on around him. It was one of the reasons he had been chosen for this assignment. Today is his first day at the market; he's meant to speak with the vendors, make connections, and walk away with a cheap but handy acquisition.

He's working on the last part now. It's surprisingly difficult to find someone useful and docile, but still with some spirit left - he does not trust the older slaves who are complacent with the system.

It's during his second time looping through the market that someone catches his eye - for all the wrong reasons. He stops, stares at the familiar figure in front of him, an uncharacteristically surprised expression flashing over his face.

Then he's smiling again. He's still unsure if this is a good turn of events, but perhaps he could use this to his advantage.

"My my, I didn't expect to see you here."

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There's little Jade can do except wait and give Shinjirou the time he needs. But he can't wait forever, and he was just about to gently prompt Shinjirou for an answer when he finally nods. The vacant stare is concerning, however, but they can take things one step at a time.

Very literally.

He offers his arm to Shinjirou. "Lean on me. I'd like to leave as soon as possible."

That's very odd. He's not in any shape or form to raise an eyebrow at the offer. It's very kind, that's for sure. And that's the odd part. Shinjirou doesn't waste any time, though, putting some of his weight onto Jade. Better than the slippery wall. He hums to make up for not being able to say thank you. His throat isn't up to the task of showing gratitude.

With Jade's help, he manages to walk all the way to the showers without stumbling. He wonders where the strength in his legs went and when it will return as he stands below the shower head, eyes roaming the new room. As soon as he looks at something new, he's already forgotten about the other corner. Dizzy, he ends up looking at his feet. That's boring, but also not confusing.

After a second of thought, Jade strips as well, heading into the shower with Shinjirou. Right now, he doesn't trust him to be alone. They had more than enough to worry about without the risk of Shinjirou cracking his head open against the floor, or worse.

"Just keep looking down," he instructs, burying his fingers into Shinjirou's come-stained hair without hesitation. They're in the shower; they'll both be washed clean when they're done. Gently, he begins massaging the scalp, frowning slightly at the stickiness.

Things had gotten very out of hand tonight. He had never thought- no, that isn't strictly true. He knew just how brutal humans could be when they have power. None of this should be a surprise.

It's an automatic response to put his hands onto Jade's chest, just a light touch that makes him feel more steady on his feet than he really is. Finally some time to relax. He closes his eyes and sighs, letting Jade work in peace. Bit by bit the tension leaves his body and that's great -- he doesn't hurt as much this way.

Once his face is clean, he dares to press a sleepy kiss into Jade's neck. The water is warm, his muscles unlock under the hot stream and the come is all going down the drain. Jade's nice, without mocking him. Shinjirou considers that a good sign. Despite behaving badly once, it seems like he's done something right tonight. That's more important than the stabbing in his chest or that he looks like a smurf.

He takes the kiss and the touch of hands as a good sign; Shinjirou is finally focusing on him again. It takes awhile to wash out all the come out of Shinjirou's hair. It clings stubbornly, sticking the shaggy hair together into even messier clumps. But the methodical work comes as a relief after all those hours spent carefully choosing his words, and Jade finds himself soothed rather than disgusted.

Shinjirou still smells of sex even when he's done, but the organizers had been thoughtful enough to provide scented soap. He reaches for it now, not jostling Shinjirou from his place, and begins carefully washing his back.

That he's forced to stand is a pity. He'd rather sit or even lie down. Shinjirou isn't complaining, though. Resting his head on Jade's shoulder, he moves any way Jade needs him to, not all that unlike to what he'd done for all the strangers.

His breathing slows down, lids fluttering now that they aren't nearly glued shut anymore. It's so nice to have the mess washed off his body, a weight gone from his shoulders. Like pulling off old, broken skin. Piece by piece the dirt's removed and he becomes lighter. He's trembling, legs heavy and hot. Belatedly, he realizes he's slipping.

Jade tightens his grip, but doesn't pause in his work. If anything, he speeds up. "This will only take a few more minutes," He murmurs, almost directly into Shinjirou's ear. If Shinjirou isn't so dirty, perhaps he could justify leaving it at this, but as it stands there's still traces of come stuck to Shinjirou's skin, and the smell of all those men hanging heavy in the air. Jade doesn't want to stop until all it's all gone.

"You've come this far already. Can you make it?"

"Yes." Speaking is like swallowing freshly molten sugar: it burns from the tip of his tongue to his lungs. He plants his feet onto the ground, arms wrapping around Jade's neck. While he lacks the strength to stand on his own, holding on to someone fixes the problem at least partially. The dim feeling of weak bones doesn't disappear, but he doesn't fall and that's what matters.

When the sweet scent of soap fills his nostrils, Shinjirou sighs. He likes the smell of sex, normally. Sweat and desire and something more basic than that. However, in this case, he thinks he may prefer the clean flavor of some fruit or flower that he can even taste on his tongue. He breathes open-mouthed against Jade's neck, though by now he's opened his eyes as well, watching the veins and muscles work.

He has to wash Shinjirou's front eventually, but he turns him around so that Shinjirou's back is lying flush against his chest while he soaps him up. Watching the last of the mess swirl away and disappear down the drain is oddly cathartic. He'd like to stand under the spray for a little longer to give Shinjirou time to relax fully, but Shinjirou seems like he's about to collapse any second. Carefully, Jade shuts off the shower, and helps Shinjirou out and into a waiting towel.

There's a bench right outside the showers. Jade pushes at Shinjirou's shoulders, wordlessly directing him into sitting down. "Can you dry off by yourself? I need to finish a last few things, then we can leave."

Jade finishes just when he's about to fall asleep under the gentle ministrations and the constant stream of hot water. Scowling, he lets himself be pulled out of the shower and wrapped into a towel. It's soft, so at least there's that.

Once he sits, he starts tapping the towel onto his wet skin. He can't bend forward to dry off his knees and feet -- it hurts too much -- but there are many other tender areas that need the same attention. His dick looks disgusting, he thinks, his entire groin purple from people crashing him down into the wood with their thrusts.

Hair still dripping, he eventually leans back against the wall and waits, the towel draped across his lap. He isn't cold, but he'd rather not catch a glimpse of himself at the moment.

It only takes a few minutes for him to get dressed again and go wrap everything up, then he's heading back to the showers, his back in tow. Shinjirou is right where he had left him (not that Jade had expected otherwise), looking no more alert than he had earlier. Hopefully a good night's rest will be enough to fix it.

Jade offers his arm again. "Are you ready to leave? I have a change of clothing here, and some more water if you need it."

Instinctively, Shinjirou reaches out and grabs Jade's arm. His hold is forceful at first, with no concept of how much strength he has left or already regained, but it loosens up a moment later. He pulls himself to his feet, swaying, then finding his balance.

Water and clothes.

He doesn't know what he wants first. Wearing clothes has the potential to hurt, if they're too tight-fitting. "Water," he mutters, barely opening his mouth. Doesn't prevent his sore throat from stinging, no, but it does make it less painful.

Jade has the thermos ready. This time, he doesn't raise it to Shinjirou's lips, just places it into his shaking hand. If he can grip his arm with that much force (a few seconds later, and it's still aching), then he's ready to try drinking on his own.

"Take it slow," he repeats, just in case Shinjirou had already forgotten his earlier warnings. "And try not to choke, it'll just aggravate your throat even more."

If Jade weren't right about his throat being useless at the moment, he'd have snapped that he isn't stupid. Alas, it's true and he obediently does as told, sipping and swallowing only when he's absolutely sure he won't mess up. He can't tell how long it takes him to finish, but eventually he hands Jade the cup and takes the clothes.

"Ugh." Eyes squeezed shut, he freezes mid-movement. The fabric feels like sandpaper on his skin. He winces when the pant legs wrap around his scabbed knees and again when he pulls the zipper up. Somehow it's worse than his earlier confinement. This isn't supposed to hurt, he thinks, and that must be it.

Shinjirou's motor skills seem to have mostly returned. That's something to be grateful for, at least. Patient as ever, Jade packs away the thermos and waits, frowning when he sees how every brush of fabric has Shinjirou tensing and flinching. The clothes are already the loosest he could find (in fact, they don't even belong to him), but it looks like it isn't much help.

Still, there's nothing to do except wait and resist the temptation to adjust Shinjirou's clothes. He offers his arm again when Shinjirou finishes. "Your hair is still wet, but I suppose this will have to do. Let's go back to the house; I can give you some honeyed tea before you sleep."

Maybe it's a good thing Shinjirou is in too much pain to talk back. Jade doesn't particularly feel like having a discussion right now.

Jade is so kind -- either he's done something very right, or he looks every bit as pathetic as he feels. The latter frustrates him too much to think about at the moment and so he concentrates on moving his feet one step at a time. He nods at the offer, hand wrapped around Jade's arm. There's questions he wants to ask and can't, perhaps mustn't either.

Briefly looking up, he considers doing it anyway, but opening his mouth shuts him up very quickly. His jaw refuses to do any more stretching for today. Fine, then he'll swallow that bitter pill of not getting a few answers, too. After all the come he's gulped down, that shouldn't be too much of a problem.

At least he manages to walk beside Jade to the car without any accidents. That's a relief and raises his hopes: tomorrow, he'll feel better.

Shinjirou doesn't even have to open his mouth for Jade to know that he has a question on his mind. It's a good thing he's in too much pain to ask - although that is a thought he shouldn't be having.

The drive goes smoothly, and once they arrive, he waits for Shinjirou to strip before helping him onto his futon. "I'll be back with tea," he promises. "Try to stay awake. I'd like to put some cream on your injuries first, that should lessen the worst of the pain."

Sitting there, on what's supposed to be a safe haven, feels wrong. Shinjirou shifts on the futon, sits on the floor, and crawls back the very moment Jade returns. Sleep would be nice -- if he could stop picking at his scabs, pressing down on the bruises to see how little is necessary to make them burn.

He holds the cup of tea with both hands to stop himself from fidgeting more. "Hah." Thank you. The liquid warmth coats his sore throat with sweetness and fills his cramping stomach with calm. He nudges the blanket aside, though it will probably stain over night anyway, and waits for the balm as he sits and sips on his tea.

Although Shinjirou isn't speaking in words, Jade understands his sentiments all the same. He smiles briefly in return, pleasant as always, before moving to sit behind him. It's easiest to start by treating his back first; they won't be getting in each other's way.

Uncapping the cream, he smears it over his palms, then begins rubbing it onto Shinjirou's back in slow, circular motions. It's repetitive work, much like cleaning him off in the showers had been, and Jade allows his mind to wander while his hands slowly work their way down Shinjirou's back. Why had Shinjirou been on the floor when he had first stepped back into the room? It's probably an important cue, but Jade is having trouble pinpointing the exact reason.

"We can sit somewhere else if you prefer," he offers, his voice as steady as the motion of his hands.

Shinjirou is in a state of utter serenity when Jade's voice reaches him, eyes closed and his arms resting on his thighs. Raising an eyebrow, he turns his head. Not far enough to face Jade, though. "Huh?" Jade must've caught him sitting on the edge of the futon, or perhaps crawling back onto it.

Now if only he had the words to explain himself. He interlaces his fingers around the mug and shrugs, trying to focus more on the soothing effects of the cream -- because everything else makes him want to seek another place to sit on. His mind isn't with him, it's still with the men, at the party. The wrong state of mind for his bed.

Eventually he nods, rubbing his temples. Their laughter won't leave him alone, nor their taste. "Uh-huh."

So his guess hadn't been wrong. Something about the futon is bothering Shinjirou, but Jade only has a vague idea as to why. Still, his first priority is getting Shinjirou settled down properly, so once he finishes taking care of his back, Jade moves onto the bed and pats the space in front of him.

"Can you come up? If you extend your legs, I'll be able to tend to them."

He heaves a sigh of relief the second the futon is behind him. Without even attempting to get up on his feet, he crawls towards the bed, scabbed knees scraping over the floor. His arms are strong enough to pull him up onto the mattress and with a bit of fiddling, he manages to arrange his legs properly as well.

"Hah." Another sigh and an awkward pat to Jade's shoulder. Tomorrow he'll be able to say please and thank you again. Now he's just glad he doesn't have to.

"It's alright." He acknowledges the thanks with a slight incline of his head. "Just keep drinking your tea."

Shinjirou's legs are worse off than his back, especially his thighs; Jade thinks that there's almost more bruised skin than unblemished. Carefully, he begins massaging at his thighs, working the cream deeply into the skin until he can feel it warm under his hands.

It's easier going once he's finished with the thighs. Aside from the knees (he should probably disinfect them later, the floor was filthy by the time the party began to disperse), there aren't very many injuries until he comes to Shinjirou's ankles. The rope had rubbed them raw; Jade glances up, searching for matching rope burns on Shinjirou's arms.

While talking is out of the question, humming is actually possible almost pain-free. And so he does make these little appreciative noises as warmth fills his stiff limbs, because it releases some energy and to let Jade know that this feels good. It should hurt, he thinks, after all it's still pressure -- but it doesn't. The cream, maybe, numbing his nerves.

The cup is empty before the tea has a chance to cool down and he puts it on the nightstand, following Jade's gaze. Shinjirou raises both hands, wrists bright red and skin dry as crumpled paper. "Huh?"

"I thought so." The cream he has on hand should work for rope burns, so he continues applying it, moving onto the wrists and forearms after he finishes with the ankles. He almost says something along the lines of this may hurt, but that's entirely unnecessary - it should have been hurting all along.

Although from the sounds Shinjirou had been making, he would never have guessed that was the case.

Then it's time for the trickiest part: the front. "Can you lie down on your back? Unless you'd prefer to do this yourself."