He finds himself in the stables late at night, with the moon glowing outside and his hair sleep-tousled and his breath quickened.
"I wish to ride," he hears himself say.
"At this hour, y'can wake her yourself," mutters Jensen, rubbing his eyes and getting to his feet. He gives Jared a cursory bow and stumbles toward the stable door where Harlequin snoozes comfortably.
Jared steps between him and the door. "Do you think it is not wise, then? To wake a sleeping horse?"
"I think s'not wise to wake a sleepin' groom," Jensen says, looking him straight in the eye. The contact has never been so sharp or so prolonged, and Jensen checks himself and looks away, his face coloring in the dim light. "Forgive me, y'Majesty, I..."
"No, you know better than I," Jared hastens to assure him. "But I'm curious now. I know well an angry horse can trample me, but what pray tell can an angry groom do, should I wake him?"
Jensen places his hands on his hips - wide arms, Jared thinks, and strong, and even, like the struts that hold up the stable itself - and frowns. "Y'want to find out?"
"Are you threatening me?"
"You think I'm that foolish?" Jensen laughs, brash, and the sleep seems to have fallen from his eyes now. "You're a crown prince. Y'could do to me whatever strikes your fancy."
"Whatever strikes my fancy." Jared chews over the thought as though it's the first time he's realized it. His gaze wanders, and he paces across the straw, struggling for further words.
"Indeed." Jensen is watching his eyes, carefully; Jared can feel the press of their gaze. "What room would I have to complain, should you decide, as a for-example, that I'm the one you'd like to ride, rather than the horse?"
Jared's lips part. He turns, whip-quick, to stare.
"As I said," Jensen goes on, "I'm not foolish. I see you look at me."
"I don't intend," Jared begins, but Jensen moves silently on bare feet over straw and touches a rough fingertip to his lips.
"Pardon, your Majesty," he whispers, "but yes, you do."
Something breaks in Jared then, something he didn't know he had, and he reaches forward, grabs the groom by the stable-strong arms, and yanks him in. Their mouths meet and it's savage, it's unrefined - it's nothing Jared has ever experienced before, and he doesn't know how to handle it, crushing Jensen's mouth beneath his, shaking all over, liquid pouring through him.
Jensen knows, though. Jensen guides him, pulls him to the floor, pulls his weight down and over Jensen's body. "Yes," he urges, "kiss me, there, Prince, everywhere--" And he holds Jared by the hair, solid and gentle, bringing his eager starving mouth to every spot in turn that makes Jensen's breath hitch and his body arch up. And Jensen knows when Jared can take no longer, knows when to push him down into the soft straw and bid him relax into the sensation of rough hands and plush mouth exploring him everywhere.
In the end, the moonlight peeks through a crack in the door and illuminates their bodies, smooth white flesh on tanned muscles. They kiss, they linger, they laugh, and they stay together until morning, when Jared will be Your Majesty again and they will have nothing in common. Right now, they're Jared and Jensen, and they're everything to each other.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
2/2
Date: 2011-05-19 12:45 am (UTC)He finds himself in the stables late at night, with the moon glowing outside and his hair sleep-tousled and his breath quickened.
"I wish to ride," he hears himself say.
"At this hour, y'can wake her yourself," mutters Jensen, rubbing his eyes and getting to his feet. He gives Jared a cursory bow and stumbles toward the stable door where Harlequin snoozes comfortably.
Jared steps between him and the door. "Do you think it is not wise, then? To wake a sleeping horse?"
"I think s'not wise to wake a sleepin' groom," Jensen says, looking him straight in the eye. The contact has never been so sharp or so prolonged, and Jensen checks himself and looks away, his face coloring in the dim light. "Forgive me, y'Majesty, I..."
"No, you know better than I," Jared hastens to assure him. "But I'm curious now. I know well an angry horse can trample me, but what pray tell can an angry groom do, should I wake him?"
Jensen places his hands on his hips - wide arms, Jared thinks, and strong, and even, like the struts that hold up the stable itself - and frowns. "Y'want to find out?"
"Are you threatening me?"
"You think I'm that foolish?" Jensen laughs, brash, and the sleep seems to have fallen from his eyes now. "You're a crown prince. Y'could do to me whatever strikes your fancy."
"Whatever strikes my fancy." Jared chews over the thought as though it's the first time he's realized it. His gaze wanders, and he paces across the straw, struggling for further words.
"Indeed." Jensen is watching his eyes, carefully; Jared can feel the press of their gaze. "What room would I have to complain, should you decide, as a for-example, that I'm the one you'd like to ride, rather than the horse?"
Jared's lips part. He turns, whip-quick, to stare.
"As I said," Jensen goes on, "I'm not foolish. I see you look at me."
"I don't intend," Jared begins, but Jensen moves silently on bare feet over straw and touches a rough fingertip to his lips.
"Pardon, your Majesty," he whispers, "but yes, you do."
Something breaks in Jared then, something he didn't know he had, and he reaches forward, grabs the groom by the stable-strong arms, and yanks him in. Their mouths meet and it's savage, it's unrefined - it's nothing Jared has ever experienced before, and he doesn't know how to handle it, crushing Jensen's mouth beneath his, shaking all over, liquid pouring through him.
Jensen knows, though. Jensen guides him, pulls him to the floor, pulls his weight down and over Jensen's body. "Yes," he urges, "kiss me, there, Prince, everywhere--" And he holds Jared by the hair, solid and gentle, bringing his eager starving mouth to every spot in turn that makes Jensen's breath hitch and his body arch up. And Jensen knows
when Jared can take no longer, knows when to push him down into the soft straw and bid him relax into the sensation of rough hands and plush mouth exploring him everywhere.
In the end, the moonlight peeks through a crack in the door and illuminates their bodies, smooth white flesh on tanned muscles. They kiss, they linger, they laugh, and they stay together until morning, when Jared will be Your Majesty again and they will have nothing in common. Right now, they're Jared and Jensen, and they're everything to each other.