IC INBOX for The Last Voyages

[magician_king]

You know what to do.

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[ninefox]

He jerks, as much as he can in the absolute restraints, his eyes going a little bit unfocused, although he doesn't make a noise, not yet. The sharpness is perfect, and in a few places the flaring sensation is the most he's felt since the burrower was chewing its way through him - it was inching toward his heart too, Jedao thinks, almost imagines he can taste the blood, although when he tongues his cheek, he hasn't bitten himself yet.

He shivers for the new flick of pain, gaze leaping back to meet Quentin's as he talks. His teeth bite down a little more sharply on the gag, a contortion of his face that would have been a savage, slanted smile without it.

[magician_king]

Quentin goes focused, now. Not sadistic exactly, but meticulous and technical, wanting to know what it looks like to locate the fine filaments of sensation, how he twitches when each one is plucked, or pinched between two fingernails where sensation throbs under his skin. He slides down, going over the ribs opposite the damage, then sliding in over his sternum.

He does it here, bends down and bites into all of the feeling in Jedao's core, where it's gathered up in his fingers, raw and possessive and low.

[ninefox]

He yells roughly into the gag, inarticulate urgent sound, the muscles of his abdomen taut and trembling. He blinks fast, panting into the gag after. It hurts, bright and deep at once, and it doesn't feel good, exactly, but it feels right, a strange and vicious relief. His hands curl into fists and then release as he sinks into the feeling, hungers for more of it.

He tips his head back on the bed and closes his eyes, giving himself over to Quentin's teeth.

[magician_king]

He draws in a shocked breath at the sound, looks up at him, reads his expression, and then keeps going.

He pulls along to his hipbone, working in a bright, icy slash across his centre, alternating nails and teeth and tongue.

[ninefox]

He arches his back, and Jedao himself couldn't say if his body was trying to escape from the feeling or press closer. But it doesn't matter, because it's in him, perfectly inescapable.

[magician_king]

Quentin builds up a rhythm, sliding back and forth across the bridge he's created, shoulder, to hip, to shoulder again, rocking pain back and forth across his body like he's panning for something under his skin. He gathers more filaments up with every pass, intensifying with each swipe.

[ninefox]

He thinks of the shuttle on a loom as Quentin goes back and forth, the threads stretched out on their frame and then tightening together. He shudders and groans, his short muffled cries falling into longer whimpers, his body shifting from useless straining to sagging in his bonds, and back again.

It hurts but he can handle it, he just has to breathe, duck under it like a wave, except Quentin's hands are tangled into him, shockingly intimate, too visceral for his mind to slip away from. He lets the pain wash through him, but it keeps coming, or maybe ripples back, wave after wave commanded by the pull of Quentin's gravity.

[magician_king]

He carries on until he's panting, too, looking now and again at his hand, at his expression, but he seems fine, seems perfect, seems right where he wants him. He gathers it all up to a point over his heart, and sinks his teeth into the knot he's holding, now straddling his hips, bending over him, and does what will be the last thing he does to him- lets him feel like Quentin is eating his heart, for ten long seconds, as long as he can stand.

[ninefox]

You're dying, says a part of his brain that remembers the burrowers, bone-deep certainty forged on a far-away battlefield, waiting for hours, waiting for when it reaches your heart. It's a better relief than he'd imagined he could ask for, the rough-sharp tearing deep-down agony and the certainty that this is the end, this is the end, he did as much as he could and if he can't be forgiven, at least he can be done.

(The golden moment, when Horseriver stroked his fox's ears and walked away over the invisible precipice, the black minutes when they first met, snarling and feral, finding each other in the mirror, craving exactly this - oh, he can't bear it, he can't, the most baffling of all revelations, he's a stubborn ragged stupid animal and something in him still wants to live- )

Jedao can't sustain a scream, rides out his ten seconds in low, heavy sobs, blinded by the mess of tears he can't wipe away, can only let drip and run onto the bedding, his chest heaving even where his mind is certain it's cracked open.

[magician_king]

When he lets him go, it doesn't end right away. Things go back easier than they came out, pushing down into his body under patient strokes of Quentin's fingers.

"You did so well," he murmurs, while he runs his hand along Jedao's chest, "you did amazingly, you are so strong and you are so good."

He's careful to put everything back with love, with devotion, making sure he feels not just okay, but better.

[ninefox]

He twitches and shivers, sucks in deep gasps of air, eyelids flickering. He doesn't say anything at first, his awareness of who and where he is seeping back in a jumble, and Jedao is too well-trained to say anything until he has a better grasp of his surroundings.

He aches all over, muscles strained from clutching and thrashing, but he knows he likes the touch, knows - Quentin, the voice is Quentin's, and the cloud of white hair, and Jedao can trust him.

Good, he thinks, but the gag stops him from echoing the word, so he just settles with a sigh and soaks up Quentin's ministrations.

[magician_king]

He runs his hand over his shoulder, up at the point where he started, and presses a pulse along the web he handled. He bites again, but just a light graze of his teeth, to help him get used to feeling inside his own skin again.

"Nothing can get you through me. Nothing is going to hurt you. You're done."

Once everything is as it should be, Quentin drapes himself overtop of him, and speaks the word to release Jedao's arms and legs. He stays settled on him like a blanket, eyes shut, listening to his heartbeat.

[ninefox]

His fingers jerk at the bite, shocky and overstimulated but not in a bad way. Jedao lets out a slow, deep breath, as if Quentin's weight could push all the air and uncertainty out of him. He curls an arm from the elbow, experimentally, shuddering through another breath, then wraps the arm around Quentin, hugs him tight.

[magician_king]

"I love you like I never thought I'd love another soul again."

He murmurs, and settles in, smiling against the crook of his shoulder.

"I am in awe of you. Oh- shit, you're still gagged."

Shifting up onto his knees to go get the knot, to come pepper his face with soft kisses.

[ninefox]

Jedao makes a soft huffing noise that might be a chuckle as Quentin removes the gag, nuzzling Quentin and pressing a few light kisses of his own against the corner of Quentin's mouth, against cheek, against his jaw. His arm comes up shakily to stroke Quentin's spine.

"You were marvelous, darling," Jedao croaks, throat a little raw from shouting useless into the gag, his words a little bit slow but not slurred. He feels blessedly quiet now inside, worn out past the point of worrying, misty and lazy and sore.

[magician_king]

"You're too good to me."

He answers, and presses a reverent kiss to his forehead, before he sits reluctantly up.

"I've got some water, and some sweets for you." Because he is a reader, and the books say that this part is important. "Don't worry about me, just take it very slow. Gentle now."

[ninefox]

"I'm the one who asked for this," Jedao reminds him, reaching for Quentin with the same arm he started with, which trembles slightly after all the exertion, and he doesn't manage to pull Quentin back down.

"Did you - like it, then?" he asks, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

[magician_king]

"A lot."

He admits, and reaches up to brush the hair off his face, then thumb a tear away, along his temple, before grabbing the water off the dresser and cracking the cap, holding it gently up for him to take a tiny sip.

"Is that weird? I know it was therapeutic, I feel weird how- greedy I felt."

[ninefox]

"It's not weird," Jedao says, as though he has any place to talk, and sips gratefully.

"Greedy how?"

[magician_king]

"I don't know if that's the right word. But like I could take everything you poured into me."

He says, and recaps the bottle, setting it aside, moving to reach for one of the little chocolates he found him.

[ninefox]

"And give me everything I needed," Jedao murmurs, before lying back and opening his mouth with a cheeky look. He isn't usually particularly fond of sweets, but he'll gladly take the opportunity to coax Quentin into hand feeding him.

[magician_king]

He smiles, and pops the candy into his mouth, then reaches to brush the tears off the other temple.

"You must be exhausted. Catch your breath."

[ninefox]

"Yes. But good exhausted."

He turns his head, presses a kiss to Quentin's wrist.

"I'm resting, love. I'm not going anywhere."

[magician_king]

"I'm happy too, but I do feel pretty- fretty."

He says, and keeps stroking, now shifting up to invite him into his lap, while he offers him water.

"Stay here and keep where I can see you."

[ninefox]

Jedao curls up willingly in Quentin's lap, turning to press his face against Quentin's neck for long moments, nuzzling and breathing in the smell of him before allowing himself to drink more.

"Yes, sir," Jedao says, teasing a little.