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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Jabberwocky - 12. Sam
XII. Sam
They were both woken up before dawn the next day, and Brandon came to the unhappy realization that the girls were moving at a grueling pace and were expecting the boys to match it. By the time they dismounted and set up camp at the end of the second day, Brandon’s entire body ached with misery. He forced his aching limbs to help set up camp, ate, then fell asleep almost instantly.
When he woke up the next morning, still sore and aching, he glared at Jordan who was moving around with no problem.
“Good morning,” Jordan said with a bright smile. Brandon grumbled, trying to move his limbs, which were sore and stiff, and absolutely wailed at the thought of another long day on a horse.
“How come you’re not as sore as I am?” Brandon complained, slowly and gingerly getting to his feet.
“Because I stretched before I went to bed, like I told you to,” Jordan answered. “It’s not my fault you didn’t listen.”
Too tired and sore to care how childish it was, Brandon stuck his tongue out at him.
Brandon was so relieved to see the inn they were approaching late that afternoon that he almost wept. Almost.
Inside the room was a hot bath waiting for them. Brandon undressed in record time and sank into the water gratefully, the heat soothing sore muscles.
“Don’t hog the water,” Jordan grumbled, pulling his socks off and balling them up.
“You snooze, you lose,” Brandon replied with a sigh, sinking down until the water was up to his chin. Jordan slid in behind him, resting against the back of the tub, Brandon’s hips cradled in between his thighs. He kissed the back of Brandon’s neck.
“You make for a lousy cowboy, you know,” Jordan teased, tracing fingers up and down Brandon’s chest. It felt good, soaking in a hot bath with his lover in total privacy.
“I guess I ride you better than I do horses,” Brandon said, smirking and turning his head to give Jordan a kiss.
“We’ll have to test that theory later then,” Jordan replied.
Brandon turned in the water and slid up against Jordan, pressing a hot kiss against his neck. “Why wait?” he murmured.
“Uh…” Jordan was having trouble thinking while Brandon was sliding his tongue up his neck to his ear. “Dinner?”
“Skip it,” Brandon said, his voice husky in Jordan’s ear.
“We can’t,” Jordan said, grabbing Brandon’s shoulders. He kissed him firmly. “We both need to eat, and Sumna and Jassa want to talk to us.”
Brandon pouted at him, eyes dark. Jordan kissed him again. “Later, promise.”
“Okay,” Brandon said. Just to make sure Jordan would remember, he gave his lover’s half hard cock a gentle squeeze under the water. “Later.”
Jordan had a difficult time concentrating over dinner. His cock was remembering the teasing squeeze that Brandon had given him earlier, the dark, eager eyes looking into his.
“We’ll be staying several days at a contact’s house right inside of Driamor’s border,” Jassa was saying. “There we’ll switch out our horses, clothes, anything that might set us apart from the residents there. Now would be a good time to retire your outfits from Odwayon as they’ll only draw unnecessary attention.”
Brandon nodded. He had anticipated something like that, and had made sure to wash their clothes once they had exited the tub.
“We’ll also be going over castle plans and pick up any updates,” Jassa explained. “We’re hoping enough time has passed since your departure that your faces won’t be on high alert anymore and you can walk around relatively safely.”
“High alert?” Jordan asked nervously.
“An edict from the palace itself requesting your arrest. A person on high alert is to be delivered to the palace, dead or alive. Even if you are not on high alert, if Sumna’s cover was blown, she might be. Don’t do anything to draw attention to yourself. Don’t do anything to make yourself stand out. If you do something foolish, don’t think that we will risk ourselves to come after you.”
“Same here,” Sumna said. “If we get caught, you are not to attempt to rescue us. It’s safer for both teams if we’re not connected.”
“Understood,” Brandon said.
“Any questions?” Jassa asked, raising her eyebrows.
Jordan shook his head. Brandon looked like he was considering something, but he, too, shook his head.
“See you in the morning then,” Jassa said, standing up. Sumna gave them a small smile and followed her Enabler out of the room.
“So what do you think?” Brandon asked, following Jordan back upstairs.
“Which part?” Jordan asked, opening the door to their room and letting Brandon inside before shutting and locking it.
“All of it,” Brandon said. “Do you really think it’ll be that easy to get into the palace as it was the first time? When there is a possible death sentence hanging over our heads?”
“Do you want to back out?” Jordan asked, sitting down next to Brandon on the bed.
“No,” Brandon said. “No, I don’t. But I’m a bit worried. We have a fairly good idea of the castle, but there are obviously parts of it that we don’t know about. Rajar’s quarters were totally new to me, and Keith and Elizabeth have to have secure lodgings somewhere, too. Even if we do get in, find who we need to find and get out… it’s a lot of danger. And it’s a lot of dependence and trust in Sumna and Jassa. And you heard them just as well as I did. If we get stuck, we’re screwed. They won’t help us.”
“They said that it would be best if no one knew we were connected, but I think the best thing to do is just to stay close to them,” Jordan pointed out. “They’ll be where we want to be most of the time anyway. And if they are concerned with keeping themselves hidden, we’ll be safe, too. We won’t be doing anyone any good if we get caught or killed. So I, for one, am in favor of staying alive. And I’ll do whatever we need to do to make that happen.” He leaned forward, kissed Brandon. “I’ll keep us safe. Promise.”
Brandon leaned back, lying down on his back. Jordan stretched out next to him. “What do you think?” Jordan said.
“I think I’ll be glad to get home when all this is over with,” Brandon said.
“And until then?”
Brandon turned his head towards him and smiled, then moved until he was straddling Jordan, leaning down to kiss him. “I believe some riding lessons were in our immediate future.”
“I remember,” Jordan said. He pulled Brandon in close to him and sat up to press a kiss against his neck. He smiled when he felt Brandon’s pulse speed up beneath his lips. He let one hand creep up underneath Brandon’s shirt, his fingers seeking out a nipple, gently pulling at it. Brandon gasped slightly, tilting his head back as Jordan’s mouth continued its gentle assault on his neck.
“It would seem-” Brandon said as a second hand joined the first in it’s exploration under his shirt, “-that my riding instructor is trying to take advantage of me.”
Jordan pulled Brandon’s shirt off and tossed it aside. “Nonsense,” he said, before latching his lips onto Brandon’s collarbone, tracing the ridged outline with his tongue. “It is essential to make sure that the rider and the stallion are an appropriate match.” He leaned forward and kissed Brandon’s nipples, stiff and swollen under the attention of Jordan’s fingers. Jordan slid his tongue over one slowly and Brandon whimpered in appreciation. “I think we’ve established that. Do you agree?”
“I would have to give the matter some more consideration,” Brandon said, smirking at Jordan. Jordan leaned forward and gently closed his teeth around one of Brandon’s nipples, drawing his tongue over the tip. Brandon moaned again and pressed his erection against Jordan’s stomach, squirming impatiently.
Jordan kissed his way up Brandon’s chest, simultaneously sliding a hand down the back of Brandon’s pants. “It is also very important to prepare the rider beforehand.” Jordan’s questing fingers found Brandon’s entrance but made no attempt to breach it, just applied gentle pressure, trying to gauge Brandon’s response. Brandon kissed him, pressing down against his finger. Jordan regretfully removed his finger, putting both hands on Brandon’s hips in an attempt to calm them both.
“I will need the necessary supplies,” Jordan said, attempting to sound stern, but it came out breathless and needy instead. Brandon blinked passionate, darkened eyes at him, then got up and pulled the oil from his knapsack. Jordan was already ridding himself of his clothes, and Brandon paused a moment before placing the jar on the bedside table to take stock of his lover’s body. He never got tired of looking at it. Jordan gave him a wink and stretched back out on his back, stroking his cock. Brandon pulled his pants off and knelt down near Jordan’s hip, kissing the pelvis and sliding his tongue up Jordan’s cock. Jordan made an appreciative sound, running his hand through Brandon’s hair. Brandon's tongue traced the line of Jordan’s erection, then gently lapped at the head, gathering up the drops of precum beading the slit. Jordan moaned. Brandon leaned forward and kissed him. “Pretty impressive,” Brandon said, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “I can’t wait to ride it.”
Jordan kissed him again, then grabbed the oil, applied some to his fingers and started to prep his lover. He worked his fingers in slowly, feeling Brandon’s body relax and loosen. He felt like he was about to explode with Brandon on top of him, kissing him and carefully squeezing and stroking his cock, grinding down against his fingers. Brandon eventually lifted his head, grabbed the oil and applied some to Jordan’s aching cock. Jordan gritted his teeth, the urge to come almost too great to resist.
“I think your rider is ready,” Brandon whispered, leaning forward, drawing away from Jordan’s fingers. “Are you?”
“Please,” was the only word Jordan could manage to croak.
Brandon gripped Jordan’s cock in his hand and slowly lowered himself onto it. Jordan gripped the sheets underneath him as his cock was enveloped in Brandon’s tight warmth. Jordan waited until Brandon had settled himself and had started to move before planting his feet and thrusting up into Brandon. He ran his hands up Brandon’s thighs, gripped his hips.
Brandon, feeling sexy and shameless, raised his hands to run them down his body, down his chest, pausing to tug the nipples Jordan had been playing with earlier, then across his stomach and down to grip his cock. He placed one hand on Jordan’s chest as his boyfriend gave a particularly enthusiastic thrust and then started to jack himself. He loved the dual feeling of being filled with Jordan’s cock and stroking his own erection the same time. He stroked harder as he watched Jordan underneath him, his body dewed with sweat, mouth open, breathing heavily, his eyes dark and heavy with lust as they watched Brandon. Brandon continued to ride Jordan, watching the muscles in Jordan’s body clench and relax, the sexy undulation as he thrust his hips up into Brandon’s body.
Brandon's orgasm came quick and bright, shuddering throughout his body as he came, cum splattering over his hands and Jordan’s stomach. Jordan gasped, gripping his hips hard, thrusting deep as he came seconds later.
Brandon took a minute, trying to rein his breathing and his heart rate back in control, then carefully slid himself off Jordan’s softening cock and collapsed next to his lover. Jordan automatically turned and kissed Brandon, studying his face.
“Okay?” he asked softly. Brandon nodded. Jordan got up and grabbed a towel, cleaning them both before cuddling up next to Brandon, who already looked tired and half asleep. “Maybe this time, you won’t be sore after you ride,” Jordan said, gently teasing.
Brandon’s lips curved in a slight smile. “If I am, I certainly won’t complain like I did before.”
Jordan frowned a little. “You tell me if I ever, ever hurt you, okay?”
Brandon’s answer was thick with sleep. “That is one thing I never worry about.”
Brandon dreamt of Leia again that night and woke up with the scream lodged in his chest. He swallowed it back down and rested his head on his knees, his own breathing tearing at his raw throat. He bit his lip as he heard the scratch and hiss of a candle being lit, shivering a little at the sensation of Jordan’s warm hand on his bare back. He felt so cold…
“Nightmare?” Jordan asked. Brandon just nodded. “Talk?” Jordan offered.
Brandon pulled away from Jordan’s hand, slid back down in the bed, pulling sheets up over cold flesh. Jordan lay down next to him, eyes quiet and patient.
“I just… dreamt of how she was when she gave birth,” Brandon said. “I-I was in pain from the poison, but I could see her and tell it was so much worse.” He couldn’t block the image from his mind, Leia’s white fingers gripping the edges of the altar, the cords of her neck straining, her mouth stretched wide in agony. “The screams she made---they were almost inhuman. It was killing her and she was in so much pain.” Brandon found himself shaking. He turned to Jordan, clutched him blindly. “It's so unfair. She never hurt anyone. She didn’t deserve to die like that.”
“Death isn’t fair. It has no compassion. It takes away what we love the most and gives nothing in return,” Jordan said, stroking Brandon’s neck.
Brandon shifted and looked up at him. “You told me once that you lost your best friend, too… Sam, right?”
Jordan visibly flinched at the name, but he nodded. “Yes.”
“You don’t talk much about him,” Brandon commented.
Jordan lowered his gaze. “It’s hard to talk about him. To think about him.”
“Why?” Brandon asked, praying he wasn’t being too insensitive to not see something that was obvious. Leia was all he could think about some days.
“When he died…” Jordan started then stopped. Brandon was still lying next to him, looking up at him, curious but trying to hide it. His hand was on Jordan’s face, resting on his cheek, near his ear, a thumb lightly brushing away the stray strands of hair that tickled the side of his face. He could stop talking then, he knew, just hold Brandon and fall asleep and Brandon wouldn’t ask again, would know it was a taboo subject.
But Brandon had always been honest with him. Always opened up to him. Even about things that were much harder to talk about.
“Sam was my best friend. He died because of me," Jordan finally said. A slow burn filtered through his chest and all illusions Jordan carried about maybe feeling better if he shared the story were incinerated by it.
"What happened?" Brandon finally asked.
Jordan dropped his head and kissed Brandon's hair.
"We were caught in a place we weren't supposed to be. It was my idea, but he tagged along." Jordan paused and closed his eyes. He was editing. If he was going to tell the truth, he should just tell the whole damn truth.
"It was shortly after my parents died. Dylan had been living right down the street and he didn't want to uproot me and move so soon after what had happened, so we stayed where we were while he settled my parent's estate and started to get the case together against the car seat manufactures for Matty. I was pissed off: at him for thinking it was so damn important to get the money, mad at the hospital for not keeping my mom there one more day, mad at the other driver, hell I was even pissed off at God for taking them and leaving me. I was too young and too scared for suicide, but I thought about it a lot. Made a couple of half assed attempts, but they didn't work. I knew they wouldn't at the time, but still..." Jordan swallowed and felt Brandon's arm tighten reflexively around him. Comfort. "Anyhow, I had this friend. Sam. And one night I was hanging out with him and got the idea to break into the school. I think I was going to steal something from the gym, but I can't remember what. I told him to come with me. He didn't want to. And I teased and badgered and threatened him until he agreed to come with me. I was being so cruel to him, but I didn't care. We went prowling around the school, giggling like idiots and making plenty of noise because we thought it was empty. Then we heard someone in the hallway and ran to hide. There was a security guard and he caught us. I don't know if he was overzealous or trigger happy or just plain scared. But he saw us hiding and we jumped up to make a run for it. But…” Jordan shrugged. “I guess we just startled him, because the guard fired. He hit Sam."
Jordan paused again. Sometimes, in quiet moments, he could still hear the reports of the revolver, could still smell the acrid scent of gunpowder. "The guard dropped his gun and called 911. Once I heard the shot, I stopped running and went back to check on Sam. While we waited for the ambulance to arrive, I sat there, holding my best friend in my arms and watched him die."
"Oh God, baby," Brandon whispered, pressing his lips into Jordan's hair, feeling his chest burn with the other boy’s pain.
"I don't know what happened to the guard. Self-defense, I'm sure. I got charged for breaking into the school and vandalism, even though I hadn't touched anything. It was a juvie offense, though, so my record was expunged when I turned eighteen. It was enough for Dylan to decide to leave the town where I grew up, to give us a fresh start in Chicago. I didn't care. My family was gone, my best friend was gone; I didn't care where we were. Everything I had loved about that place was gone.” Jordan bit his lip. “Things didn’t get better in Chicago. I was swamped with guilt and acting pretty self-destructive. Hanging out with the wrong kind of people, making poor decisions. Dylan was about to pull his hair out in frustration, but he couldn’t do anything to help me. He was too busy. And then I met Nikki and Dalaja.”
Jordan smiled a little bit. “And they told me things that would change my life. About who I was, what I would be able to do. And who I would meet. And it was then that I realized what it was I was looking for all this time: a connection with another person. Something that was real, that was genuine, that would bond us deeper than anything I’ve ever known, ever felt. Something that I thought had died with my parents. The same thing I saw between Nikki and Dalaja. It was then that I started to try to put my life back together. I was so looking forward to meeting you, my Creator, and I didn’t want to be a strung out mess when that happened.” Jordan smiled and touched Brandon’s face, tracing his cheek and jaw line with his fingers, ran them down his neck until they settled over his pulse. “You changed my life before I even met you.”
Brandon blinked back sudden tears, his stomach tight. He remembered how easily, casually he had blown Jordan off when they first met. How hard that must have been for Jordan, to approach him, to try and explain something as remarkable and unbelievable as Enabling and Creating to a stranger who made it clear he didn’t want to hear it. “I sure didn’t make things easy for you.”
Jordan took his hand, kissed his fingertips. “I didn’t expect you to. But my expectations have been more than fulfilled.” He tucked Brandon’s hand up against his chest. “You’re amazing. The way you changed my life is amazing. I love you.”
Brandon smiled and scooted closer, lifting his face up towards Jordan’s, giving him a light kiss. “I love you.” He rested his head against his lover’s chest, sliding his arms around Jordan. Jordan rested his face in Brandon’s hair, breathing in deep the scent of his lover and smiled before falling asleep.
Brandon offered little resistance or complaint to getting back on the horse the next day, but if that was from tiredness or a new appreciation of the sport, Jordan wasn’t sure. He did rather enjoy the way Brandon blushed when Jordan gave him a flirtatious grin before helping him onto the horse. Brandon paid him back by wriggling on the saddle behind him, like he was trying to get comfortable and grinding his hips into Jordan’s ass in the process.
They again rode until the light started to die, setting up another camp. Brandon had asked Sumna while they were traveling if she and Jassa had really ridden throughout the day and night if the light was adequate and grimaced when Sumna gave him an affirmative.
“I don’t see how you tolerated it,” Brandon said that night after they ate, stretching out his calf the way Jordan told him to.
“You get used to it,” Sumna said. Jassa was standing nearby, stretching her shoulders and arms. “If you have to move fast, you definitely get used to it. But it’s not something we choose to do if we have an alternative.”
“Thank God,” Brandon mumbled.
“How do people travel where you come from?” Sumna asked. “I know you don’t fly like us. Do you walk everywhere?”
Brandon tried to explain cars and buses to Sumna, but his lack of adequate vocabulary and her obvious disbelief made Brandon abandon any attempt to delve into how trains and airplanes worked. He instead bid them goodnight and went to join Jordan on the other half of the camp, flopping down next to him and kissing the back of his neck.
“I’ve been thinking,” Brandon started.
“An impressive endeavor,” Jordan mumbled. Brandon gave him a light playful smack on the ass before continuing.
“-and I don’t think you should blame yourself. For what happened to Sam.”
The loose, relaxed lines of Jordan’s body instantly tensed. “Don’t, Brandon.”
“But-”
“I took him there," Jordan said, sitting up. His voice was level, but there was pain and regret shining in his eyes. “He didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay home and play video games, safe with his parents. And I took him out, bullied him into going with me. And he died. If he hadn’t have been there, he wouldn’t have died. I as good as pulled the trigger.”
“But you didn’t pull the trigger,” Brandon pointed out. “I’m not saying what you did was a great idea. But you were only at fault for breaking into the school. Sam didn’t have to go with you. I’m sure you didn’t tie him up and drag him down the streets. He had his own mind, made his own choices. And it’s the fault of the guard. People break into school buildings all the time. Sam wasn’t armed. All the guard needed to do was nab him and return him home. He didn’t need to shoot anyone. And I don’t see how any guard could claim self defense against an unarmed twelve year old boy.”
“But if I hadn’t-”
“No buts. No ifs,” Brandon said firmly. “If the past could be changed, we would all go back and fix what went wrong. Hell, if I could go back into the past, do you think I would let anyone lay a hand on Leia? And that you would figure out some way to save your parents? We can’t do that, baby. We can’t. So it’s no use to worry about how things might have turned out differently if you hadn’t done what you did that night. Sam might have even died that night anyway; you just don’t know. It was an accident.”
Jordan turned over and pressed his face into his arms. “Knowing something logically is one thing. Knowing it in your heart is another. Everyone told me it was just an accident. A tragedy is what they called it, the same thing they said about my family. Even Sam’s parents. But I never believed it.”
“Would you have felt better if they had blamed you? If his parents had screamed at you for killing their son? If you had been sent to a juvie hall?”
“I doubt it,” Jordan said. Brandon lay down next to him and placed a light hand on his back. Jordan refused to talk for a long time.
“I still don’t think I will ever… come to terms or whatever with what happened to Sam. But thank you for not thinking I’m to blame. Even if I disagree.”
“I still think I’m partially to blame for Leia. I guess we both have guilty consciences too large to put away,” Brandon said.
They both lay there for a while, deep in thought.
“Did you ever unwrap the package that girl in Odwayon gave you?” Jordan asked after a while. Brandon thought for a moment before he recalled what Jordan was referring to. He hadn’t; it was still carefully stored in his bag, bound by cloth and twine. He pulled it out and unwound the twine carefully, pulling it away. Brandon folded back the fabric only to reveal more fabric. Brandon stood up and shook the cloth out.
“Cloaks,” Jordan said. He picked up another bundle of cloth that was underneath the first one and shook it out as well. “See?”
Brandon watched as Jordan pulled it over his shoulders, like a cape, then tugged a hood forward to cover his head. “They keep you warm like a coat, or protect you from bad weather or hide your face, kinda like a hoodie.”
“I know what a cloak is,” Brandon said, trying to keep it from sounding irritable. Intrigued, he brought it closer to the fire, studying the material. It was a deep blue, could almost pass for black in color and the material was baby soft on one side, slick on the other side.
“That’s definitely an Odwayon product,” Sumna said from the other side of the fire. She drew closer, ran her hand over the material. “This slick substance Odwayons apply to a lot of their outerwear. It not only makes it waterproof, but also flame retardant.”
“For real?” Brandon asked.
“Yes,” Sumna said. “I’m not sure if you were aware of this, but it was also applied to many of their wooden structures, too…just as a precaution. It’s exclusive to the forest of Odwayon. This is a very special gift.”
“How do you know it was a gift?” Brandon asked.
“I saw the girl giving it to you,” Sumna said. “It is a tradition of Odwayon to give visitors a gift when they leave. This is a good thing to receive. You’ll need something to cover your faces when we draw close to Driamor.” She glanced up and smiled. “I noticed that you two have been talking a lot. That’s good.”
Brandon glanced over and saw Jordan folding his cloak up in a complicated pattern he knew he couldn’t replicate. “I guess so.”
She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Keep those lines of communication open. You both need to heal and you’ll need each other to do that.”
“I know.”
She smiled. “Good night, Brandon.”
“Good night.”
Brandon walked over to Jordan and handed him his cloak, watched how Jordan folded it, hoping he could remember.
“They are fire resistant,” Brandon said.
Jordan glanced up. “Yeah?”
“The coating on them is to keep the material waterproof, but it also makes them so they can‘t catch on fire,” Brandon elaborated.
Jordan raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Well, that will be good if we have to walk through fire, won’t it?”
“Or undergo a baptism,” Brandon said.
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10
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2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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