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The door opened. Sev didn’t raise his head, but Jaing was crossing the room and dropping to his knees in front of Sev, and taking his head in his hands and kissing him hard.
Sev choked on a muffled noise of shock even as he kissed Jaing back matching hunger for hunger; it was instinct by now, it was a reflexive want.
“Stop,” Sev gasped, breaking away, Jaing’s mouth dragging over his cheek and then away. His voice was such a low, ragged snarl, he didn’t recognize it. When he made himself glance up Jaing’s eyes were big and dark and unreadable, looking up at him, so Sev looked away again, retreating. He made himself say, “You don’t want me. Not after that.”
Jaing wet his lips. The gesture drew Sev’s eyes unwittingly, as Jaing’s hands moved to cradle his neck. “I do,” Jaing said, low between them. “The instant he touched you I knew what I was going to do.”
“No,” Sev said, retreating again onto the bed, backing up until his back pressed against the wall. He turned his face away from Jaing.
“I knew I was going to come here,” Jaing said softly, “To you. I knew I wanted to…” He took a breath and shifted closer, ran his fingertip up the line of Sev’s bare foot, murmured, “To have you.”
Sev shuddered. His head throbbed, a burning pain behind his eyes. “You can’t,” he said, noted distantly that it came out in a ragged sob and added that to the list of ways he was pathetic and unworthy and deserved, probably, to die. “Jaing. You can’t.”
“I do,” Jaing said, dragging his fingers lightly over the bleeding gash on Sev’s thigh, but it still hurt, it still burned and throbbed. Sev realized that he had moaned at the touch, low and broken. He was so hard—
“Please,” he whispered, and closed his eyes against his shame.
“Oh, Sev,” Jaing murmured, shifting. Sev could feel him, his heat and his nearness, and he arched helplessly into the warm hand pressed to his crotch. “Sev,” Jaing whispered again, squeezing gently while Sev shuddered and spread his legs for Jaing to move between, “Look at me.”
Heat rushed through Sev and he bit his lip and shook his head. His hips rose unsteadily into Jaing’s palm, mindless as he rubbed slow, teasing circles. “Please,” Sev gasped, floundering, and swallowed and blurted out, “Tell me what to do.”
“Take off my armor, Sev,” Jaing said, his lips at Sev’s ear, raising goosebumps all down his spine and making him gasp openmouthed against Jaing’s neck. Unsteadily he moved to do it, fumbling for catches with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking. “Shh, it’s okay,” Jaing breathed, and Sev realized that he’d been spilling apologies, hemorrhaging the words I’m sorry. He shut his mouth up tight and got the armor off, nearly clawing at it, but when Jaing was bare to the waist he said, “Thank you, Sev,” quietly.
Sev got his hands on Jaing, sliding over smooth, hot skin, the occasional uneven texture of a scar. Jaing’s belt was loosened so Sev shoved his hands down and grabbed Jaing’s shebs, dragged their hips together. He rutted against Jaing, grinding himself against the gap between codpiece and thigh plates, the smooth, yielding neoprene there, moaned at how good it felt even though Jaing hissed in discomfort. Nausea twined with arousal in his gut.
“I love you like this.” Jaing kissed Sev’s throat, one hand groping between them. That Kamin’ade lilt was thick now, vibrating through Sev’s own skin. He gasped helplessly, flushing hot all over as Jaing drew out his cock and wrapped his hand around them both. “I love how much you want it.”
The noise that came out of Sev’s throat was close to a whimper. Jaing’s fist was tight and hot and dry around them, not moving, just holding on, holding him. Sev wanted to stay there, it matched how awful he felt, in his chest and in his belly. Half-dressed and humiliated, his cock squeezed tight against Jaing’s in his dry hand, hot as a brand, Sev’s neck wet and tingling in the aftermath of Jaing’s mouth. “Fuck me,” escaped him, and then the craving hit him as sudden as a slap so he wrapped a hand around Jaing’s forearm and moaned, “Fuck me, I want it, I want it, please—”
He couldn’t stop himself from making a spectacle of himself, Vau was right, but Sev shoved the thought away, so desperate to think only of Jaing, Jaing’s mouth suddenly devouring Sev’s and silencing him finally, Jaing’s body pressing Sev’s legs open, Jaing jerking Sev’s pants down his thighs and pressing his knees up to his chest.
“Oh, gods,” Sev gasped when Jaing let his mouth go, drawing back to slick his fingers. Jaing had lube in his belt, of course he did. He’d wanted this while he watched Vau cut Sev down, he’d seen Sev torn apart and humiliated and he’d been setting a plan the whole time. The thought only made Sev more desperate, more hungry, and he shifted and held his own legs in place while Jaing pressed into him. The wall was pressing painfully into his spine, and Sev felt that and felt the slow breach of Jaing’s finger, moving steadily into him, and Sev bit down on a cry and came in slow, wracking pulses.
“Fuck,” Jaing hissed, and pushed a second finger in, as deep as they could go. Sev did cry out, then, his whole body jerking in pleasure and discomfort, a few final spurts of come dribbling from his cock. “You’re so goddamn perfect,” Jaing muttered as if to himself, biting his lip and then saying very, very clearly, “You’re not his.”
“Oh, gods, Jaing,” Sev moaned, “Ohgods ohgods.”
The head of Jaing’s cock pressed against Sev’s hole, hot and unyielding and slick. He held himself open for it, for the stretch and burn, as Jaing pushed in too fast and came up hard against Sev and growled in his ear, “You’re mine.”
All Sev could do was gasp and moan and cry Jaing’s name, then, while Jaing fucked him absolutely senseless.
After he came for a second time Jaing sat back on his heels and let Sev uncurl away from the wall, moving gingerly. Jaing’s cock stood up flushed and wet between his legs, looking painfully aroused, but he looked evenly at Sev and said nothing, and it was all on Sev’s own that he shakily arranged himself on his hands and knees.
He dropped his head between his shoulders and waited, but Jaing didn’t slam into him the way Sev halfway thought he would, not right away. Sec closed his eyes and listened to Jaing shift up behind him, hands settling on Sev’s hips and the tip of his cock brushing wetly against the back of Sev’s thigh.
“Put your hands above your head,” Jaing said, and Sev gasped unsteadily and rested his cheek on the cool sheet and crossed his wrists on the mattress over his head. Jaing rubbed a thumb over his hole, circled three times and then put his hand back on Sev’s hip and pushed back in, slow and almost gentle if it weren’t for how inexorable it was, Jaing’s cock pushing steadily into Sev without hesitation. Then he wrapped his hands around Sev’s wrists and pinned him down like that, and started moving. It was slow at first, and Sev was hypersensitive and tingling and he would have rather that Jaing be fast and rough because that would have hurt less. But Jaing moved slow in Sev and made him feel how sensitive he was, how open and wet, mercilessly. Sev was facedown on his bunk with Jaing Skirata’s cock pumping in and out of him after he’d already come twice on it. He was letting it happen. He had begged for it to happen.
It felt so good.
“Oh, god,” Sev said. Tears leaked from behind his squeezed-shut eyes. Jaing leaned more of his weight onto Sev’s wrists.
“That’s it,”Jaing said roughly, moving faster but just as steady, just as deliberate. Sev squirmed helplessly as Jaing put his mouth against the back of Sev’s neck and told him how tight he was, how slick and hot and lovely, how perfect. “You feel that?” Jaing growled, his voice strung out and panting. “You feel it, Sev?”
Sev didn’t know what Jaing was talking about but he nodded anyway because he was feeling everything, pleasure and pain and shame and gratitude and rage all balled up so tight in his chest he was choking on it, heaving desperately for air, for more.
“Good,” Jaing breathed, a wet snarl in Sev’s ear. He reached down, his fingertips fumbling against Sev’s soft, wet cock; he caught it and squeezed, thumb pressing hard against the head. A stabbing wave of overstimulation lit Sev up all over and he heard himself whimper, trying to twist away from Jaing’s hand and his cock and his mouth, but Jaing set his teeth in the meat of Sev’s shoulder and kept him right where he was. Sev gasped and it caught in his throat, a sob, and then he couldn’t stop, not now that he was started up again. He shook and cried, moving with Jaing’s steady thrusts while air snagged wetly in his throat and tears smeared over his cheeks and ran out of his nose. The cut on his thigh was bleeding again, burning. He could feel it running down. Jaing took his teeth out of Sev’s skin. Blood rushed back in hotly and he gasped and cried out, weakly.
“You’re okay,” Jaing said, ragged and low. He kissed Sev’s neck, gently, and Sev nodded, even though he was still crying.
Jaing pulled out and turned Sev over. His legs splayed open and his arms fell to the sides, like an empty set of armor; he looked up at Jaing through a haze of tears. He felt repulsive.
It didn’t seem to matter to Jaing. He straddled Sev’s waist and watched Sev while he jerked himself off. His chest heaved fast breaths, his hand moved steady and quick over his cock, the leaking head slick and exposed every time Jaing pulled the foreskin tight. Sev wanted to have it in his mouth, wanted to put his tongue against the wet slit and tease the foreskin with his teeth until Jaing went wild with it and forced Sev’s head down and made him feel it deep in his throat, made him struggle not to gag and choke around it.
Sev shuddered. His cock twitched and stung. Jaing’s eyes were heavy-lidded, his mouth open and wet, and he fell forward over Sev, bracing himself up with one hand while the other stripped his cock. He came with a shudder, a silent gasp. Sev trembled with pleasure: he was filthy, he was streaked with Jaing’s come all the way up to his chest.
Jaing sighed and sagged down, his weight settling across Sev’s stomach. He breathed hard against the pressure and took Jaing’s hand and dragged it through the mess on his skin. Jaing stared blankly at him, panting and emptied out, and then his eyes went wide and shocked as Sev put Jaing’s fingers in his mouth and sucked them clean.
“You’re a marvel,” Jaing said wonderingly, and leaned the weight of himself down onto Sev and kissed him. They were crushingly close. Sev brought his hands up around Jaing’s back and noticed that he was trembling: his hands shook like sheet metal in a windstorm and they felt about as heavy as blocks of solid durasteel. He couldn’t even work up the energy to kiss Jaing back, he just lay there and let Jaing lick the taste of his own come out of Sev’s mouth until Jaing sat back, satisfied, and tugged at Sev’s hair and told him,“Go to sleep. I’ll look after you,” as close to kind as Jaing had ever been with him.
Sev couldn’t argue with that.
#
He woke up slowly, fuzzy-headed and sore all over. It was hard to tell how much time had passed, looking around the room; the light that came in the single high window was the same no matter the time of day. Sev pushed himself up sitting, and even though he’d moved slowly it hurt, a pleasurable burn in his thighs and ass and a deep horrible ache that seemed to have settled into every part of his body. The sheets were dry and clean; they’d been changed. His skin was clean too, and when he brought a hand to his face the skin had the dry tight feeling that came from being washed, not the sticky mess of snot and tears he had expected. Even the cut had been cleaned and bandaged, the scent of bacta faint enough that it wasn’t unpleasant.
It made terror clench up tight and low in his stomach. Someone had been in here, had touched him and moved things, moved his body, and he hadn’t woken, not even flickered up to consciousness to discover that it was someone he could trust before falling back to sleep.
Sev breathed out. There wasn’t anything to do for it now, but he couldn’t stop the images unfolding in his head like a holofilm: he would take every watch he could when Delta was next sent out into the field, he would go and go until he was ground down into nothing, until he hadn’t slept more than an hour across five days and everything that was him went somewhere far away from the screaming husk of his body, and even that didn’t feel like enough. Sev shut his eyes tight. It wouldn’t do anything. Punishing himself wouldn’t make any kind of difference. He knew that, somewhere inside his head. He tried to find it and found himself thinking of Jaing instead. Jaing, who wanted him. Who saw him broken down and screaming inside and fucked him like it could be fucked out; Jaing who wanted someone he could take advantage of, who had waited until Sev was at his softest, at his most needy, and had shoved his fingers in deep, given Sev everything; Jaing who could have hurt Sev but just wanted to have him instead. Sev pressed his fingers into the bite mark Jaing had put in his shoulder and remembered the thick snarl of his voice saying, “You’re okay,” while Sev had cried helplessly with the overwhelming pain and pleasure and fear of it all, and how he had been, because he could be anything Jaing wanted.
Sev shuddered. Pleasure wormed up his spine.
Speak of the devil, the door opened and Jaing came in. He smiled when he saw Sev, and went to the bed and kissed him and asked, “Alright?”
Sev nodded and licked his lips, unable to find any words for what he was feeling, but Jaing didn’t seem to care; he kissed Sev again and stroked his hair, possessively. He kissed Sev like he would take away all of the hurts of the galaxy if he could. Sev wrapped a hand around the back of Jaing’s neck and held him close, after they’d stopped kissing. Jaing lay down on the bed next to Sev and tucked up against him, head wedged into the crook of Sev’s neck. His hair tickled at Sev’s face.
“What time is it?”
Jaing checked his chrono and then settled back down against Sev before he answered. “Ten-hundred. It’s okay, nobody’s expecting you up.”
“I have a mission briefing,” Sev protested. He didn’t move even though his heart hammered in his chest with a sudden burst of adrenaline. His hand was wound deep into Jaing’s hair.
“It’s been pushed back,” Jaing said, and before Sev could say something reproving he said, “It was Vau, not me.”
Sev swallowed back bile and shut his eyes. Jaing’s arm tightened across his chest and Sev clung to the familiar warm pressure and tried frantically to puzzle out why, why would he do that, what is he planning for me, but his head just went around and around in circles of fear and confusion. Jaing looked up at him, worried: Sev’s breathing had picked up.
“Why would he do that,” Sev mumbled up at the ceiling.
Jaing kissed Sev’s throat. “Don’t care,” he told Sev, gentle and unyielding in a way that seemed to reach right down into his guts and yank. “I outrank him, remember?” He kissed Sev’s jaw. “Next time he tries to touch you I’ll be there and I won’t let him put his hands on you.”
“You weren’t there this time,” Sev said, hating himself for the words and hating Jaing for the implication that there would be a next time. “I mean, you were. You watched.”
“I did,” Jaing said, nosing at Sev’s cheek. His voice was heavy with regret.
“Because you liked seeing it,” Sev rasped. “You liked watching him do that to me.”
“No,” Jaing whispered. “No, I didn’t. I never want him to touch you again.”
The thing was that being with Jaing was a lot like being under Vau. He wanted a lot of difficult things and he would hurt Sev and be selfish sometimes; Sev already knew that. He would ask Sev for difficult things deliberately, just because there was a part of Jaing that wanted to see him struggle. Sev was familiar with that kind of thing. The part that was new and unfamiliar and a little terrifying was that after Sev had done it or done his best and failed there was an end to it. After they fucked they went to sleep; after Sev cried and made a mess of himself Jaing cleaned him up; after he let Jaing fuck him to the point of pain and past it Jaing met him with wonder and gratitude and love for just the fact that Sev had let Jaing do it in the first place. Jaing demanded things from Sev, but how much he was going to give was always a choice . He thought about Jaing sitting back on his heels, the night before, waiting for Sev to pick a direction.
Sev turned it all over in his mind for a few minutes. “You’re the only one that gets to have me,” he said, eventually.
“Good,” Jaing murmured, and kissed him.