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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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."

He shakes his head. When he pushes into his skin, it hurts. When Jade kneads the cream into him, it doesn't. And there's parts left that are so tender, he wouldn't even try to touch them himself, but they probably do need the relief of the cream more than others which have already been taken care of.

Shifting, he lowers himself onto the mattress, eyes always on Jade's hands. His own lie beside his head, fingers twitching from time to time. The bruises are a dull ache, the red strings around his ankles and wrists however burn, worse now than before for some reason. He toys with the edge of the pillow. "Hmph."

Jade lets Shinjirou see every move he makes, from the way he spreads the cream across his palms to how he reaches out to begin massaging Shinjirou's front, slow and careful without being ticklish. This area is definitely worse than others; just looking at some of the worst bruises, Jade can almost see the men kicking Shinjirou, the way they press him into the hard edges of the bench. He dismisses those images.

It's a little difficult, at first, trying not to cause pain while keeping his touches firm enough to be satisfying. Jade doesn't have much instinctive knowledge (or experience) when it comes to focusing solely on someone else's pleasure. But he's observant, and Shinjirou's body is always so wonderfully reactive even when he's like this; it doesn't take long for him to adjust.

At least, until he gets to Shinjirou's groin. With just the barest hint of pressure, he wraps his fingers around his cock. Then he stops and simply looks, trying to gauge his reaction.

It isn't all that bad. The cream is cool and he's slowly relaxing, letting the mix of a warm body, the quiet surrounding him, and the soothing balm lull him into a state of content. Alas, the moment doesn't last long enough to let him fall asleep and if not for the razor-sharp sensation in his chest every time he moves the wrong way, he might have jumped; he merely squirms.

He's this close to biting -- not Jade, but the pillow. There's none of the anticipated intense pain, but Shinjirou expects that won't last. He grinds his teeth, arms shivering with the tension that runs through them. It'll only hurt worse in the morning if he doesn't allow himself to be taken care of now. He inhales, exhales, and meets Jade's gaze, holding it.

Not looking at what Jade's doing means that he may be surprised and surprises are never good when you're trying to avoid pain. On the other hand, his cock looks an even darker shade of purple against Jade's pale skin. He nods, breathing through his nose. Meditation isn't something he's ever really, honestly tried. Maybe that's another thing he can learn here, in this surreal situation he's found himself in. "Uh-huh."

"You can tell me if it becomes too much." With Shinjirou, it's always best to give hard limits, to tell him exactly what he can and can't do. It's even more important now, when he's in no state to be doing any thinking.

Jade takes a few second to study Shinjirou's cock - he's never seen one quite so bruised before, and his own cock seems to twitch from sympathy pains - before he curls his fingers tighter, slowly pumping his hand down the thick length. This isn't very different from giving a handjob. There's the cream, smoothing his passage, and Shinjirou's heated skin under his own, soft and pliant. Jade has to remind himself that he's only here to apply the cream, not get Shinjirou off (can he even come again?), but it's no easy task when Shinjirou is shivering like he had just come off the high of an orgasm.

To Shinjirou, there's nothing sexual about it. The fear of it becoming far more than just mildly unpleasant within the blink of an eye keeps him on edge. Always ready to punch Jade for tricking him into a false sense of security. In the end, however, the pain is his own body's fault.

It's a reflex he can't control forever. He should have expected that. His cock stiffens in Jade's hand and that, that is the exact moment his stomach turns. The pressure coming from inside is far worse than any that could come from outside. He clenches his teeth, pulling his knees up and his groin away from Jade's hand.

The skin is bursting, tearing, bleeding, he thinks and no, when he looks down he can see that's not what's happening, but. He's convinced some inner force is trying to make him shed all the layers of skin until there's no place for bruises anymore.

He doesn't have any time to appreciate how quickly the flesh stiffens under his hand before Shinjirou jerks away, a wild and pitiful animal he had intentionally hurt. He just hadn't expected the pain to be that bad.

Jade pulls his hands away, settling them onto the bed. "Can you hear me?" He asks cautiously. "We're finished here, if you'd like to return to your own bed."

More body contact would be a bad idea right now, Jade decides. That was what had sparked this new wave of pain. The best thing to do is to let Shinjirou go.

Does he want to go back? Unsure, he curls up on his side. His body is switching back and forth between too bright and too numb; he feels drugged and sober at the same time. He's pretty sure no one slipped him anything, so he must be sober. It's the only logical conclusion, one that doesn't make any sense when he's lying on his side groaning out of pain that's sharp enough to dig into his brain.

He pushes himself up into a sitting position, slowly, world spinning around him. There's no way to communicate what he wants, needs, except to speak. He cups his throat, as if that'd help. His voice comes out as a garbled, hoarse something that he's surprised to hear there's words coming out of his mouth nonetheless.

"Do you have ... tranquilizers?"

Tranquilizers. Those were the drugs Shinjirou had been taking. Lapsing back into old habits already? Jade almost asks, but now is hardly the time for that.

"Not exactly." He sits up as well, casual and relaxed despite his good posture. "But I have some sleeping pills and painkillers."

The pain must be extreme for Shinjirou to resort to this. Despite himself, Jade finds that he's feeling a bit of sympathy. "Would that help?"

"Sleeping pills." Pain is okay. Reeling isn't, and while sleep isn't exactly control, knocking himself out will work just as well. He just needs to calm down before he can do anything stupid. That's all.

Massaging his temples with one hand and holding his bruised rib with the other, he pushes toward the edge of the bed. "Would help." Legs dangling onto the floor, he clears his throat. It'd be better to get away from Jade and wait for the pills a safe distance away. Maybe use that short time alone to sneak the suppressants down his throat, just to be safe. Heavy as his limbs feel, he can't make himself get up.

He's seen Shinjirou in pain before, and something about his behaviour now strikes him as odd. It doesn't take very long to sort out his intuition into a more logical, more concrete thought: Usually Shinjirou is desperate for affection even as he tries to hide away - this time, he seems entirely preoccupied with hiding.

Are you alright is a useless question considering the circumstances. Maybe the best course of action would be to let Shinjirou hide away as he so clearly wants to do, but still, Jade hesitates. It's such a big change that he wonders if he's read him wrong.

"You can stay on my bed, you know," he suggests, expression neutral. "It's probably best if you don't move around too much."

He's used to getting sent to bed, his own bed. Frowning, he pulls his legs back onto the sheets, picking at the scabs streaked across his knees. The blood is wet and cool to the touch. He flicks the dead skin off before it can get stuck again. It's relaxing and, thankfully, all the distraction has his cock deflating as fast as it had stiffened.

"... you sure?" The urge to take the rare chance and just roll up right there beside Jade is strong. As long as he keeps his eyes closed, not having to see the world more saturated than it should be, he can even convince himself that it's the best choice. When he opens his eyes, he yearns for the turmoil to stop, gaze wandering over to his pillow. Asking for that would be childish, but more importantly, risky.

"I wouldn't offer otherwise." He could say something harsher, but he's trying to patch Shinjirou together again, not continue tearing him down. "On one condition."

For once, he doesn't make Shinjirou guess. "I'd appreciate it if you stop reopening your wounds. I'd rather not have any more blood on my sheets."

That's a sensible request. Looking down at the mess he's made of his knees, Shinjirou raises his hands and hugs himself. Stupid. Just wait for the sleeping pills, he tells himself, sliding back and lying down again. The world is a bit less blurry and headache-inducing in this position. His pulse slows down as he fixates a random spot on the ceiling. No more moving around for the next few hours.

"Thank you, Jade."