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The Dangers of Internet Fame

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There was something about being an internet personality that Jack loved; and there was something about exploring haunted, decrepit places even more. He loved delving into their histories, unraveling the ball of their past and delighting in both new and old architecture. His followers shared his enthusiasm, and he was surprised when people were willing to sit through half an hour of a one-sided conversation about old castles and how to combat drafts. The whole experience was wild.

As he was a vlogger (and an influential one, at that) people would flood his inbox and comments section with suggestions of where he should explore next. He typically tossed out anything particularly new that had been abandoned, even though a fair number of people asked him to break in to abandoned shopping malls and stores left to rot by bankrupt companies. No, Jack always looked for things from farther back.

Which is why it was different when his followers started clamouring about an old citadel that stood alone atop of a rugged mountain top; it was rumoured to stretch back for a thousand years, at least, built from stone and mortar with high towers that yawned toward the sky with conical, pointed roofs. It’d caught Jack’s attention immediately.

Along with the rumour of its age came the rumour that it was cursed. Or haunted. One or the other. Jack wasn’t entirely sure what people truly considered it to be, but he did know one thing: the people who went in, never came out. People cited disappearances from years back, and it had Jack wondering why he hadn’t heard of it until now.

Regardless, it was exactly what Jack was looking for. And he was definitely going to go.

“That thing looks ten times scarier up close,” Jack muttered into his microphone; the building was set deep into the mountains, just as the rumours had said. And it was just as large, though the words hadn’t nearly done it justice. He turned to look at the little robot hovering at his shoulder. He’d brought Gizmo out when he’d found the overgrown trail, giving a rudimentary lesson on the citadel as well as an introduction to castle architecture through the ages. He’d add in small sketches later.

Gizmo beeped at him and Jack gave the robot a small nod. “We’re going in there,” he muttered. “You aren’t scared, are you?” He didn’t get a response. “Of course you aren’t. Your nerves are made of steel, aren’t they, buddy? For the record, I’m not scared either. The most we’ll find in there is some old bones, I think.”

Jack also had a gun, for safety; he didn’t think there’d be any wildlife within the citadel walls, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared. Not that his viewers knew he had it. He kept it out of sight, so that it was never in their minds. It was always in the back of his, though. A comforting thought.

“Now, I know you’re probably all wondering how I’m keeping my skin so pale; well, folks, it’s not a secret. I’m albino—but I’m not quite as sensitive to the sun as others.” He stepped over a large, waterlogged pothole in the middle of the forgotten trail. “I do have an intensive skin care routine, however. I wear hats, long sleeves.” He held up an arm to show off the white one he was wearing today. “I don’t go out between eleven and three, unless I have to. Yes, that counts in winter. Oh, and of course, sunblock. Sunblock, sunblock, sunblock. Otherwise my face will turn the same colour as my hair.”

Jack went up and over a fallen log. He stumbled on the other side, but quickly caught himself before he went face-first into the mud. It was hot, wet, and unpleasant. Jack hated it; but his hate was drowned out by the idea of reaching this castle, tucked away from everything. No doubt nature had made a bid to take it back, which would make for incredible opening footage.

He was in the middle of a rant about nail polish brands, when he saw it; a gasp left him, and he felt as if all air had been punched from his chest. It’d taken two hours of sweaty, physically challenging hiking to make it, but there it stood in all its glory. The unnamed citadel, standing straight and tall and proud. The stones were weathered, telling of its ages like the rings on a tree stump. But it was in no way broken down or overtaken by ivy or moss.

At least from where Jack was standing.

“Gizmo, are you getting this?” Gizmo beeped cheerfully and zipped up into the air to get a better shot of it. “This is incredible. Absolutely—I am so glad I brought my sleeping bag. We’re going to have to spend the night out here.” After a moment of two, Gizmo came floating back down, facing Jack straight on.

Jack informed the audience of his plan to stay the night, marvelling at the sheer size of the building. Any worry was swept away in his glee. It would take another hour, at least, to make it down to the front steps. But his strength and energy seemed restored at the sight of the monstrosity. The rest of the trip would be easy.

“Look at these dope-ass statues,” Jack muttered as he came closer; the statues in question were carved from what looked to be solid stone. Sparkling, clear crystals were placed in the carefully shaped eye sockets of ferocious, primal dragons. He ran his fingers over the top of one of them and it felt as smooth and slick as granite.

“Whoever owned this place must’ve been rich as all get out,” Jack murmured. It was with the utmost reverence and care that he touched the statues—who knew how old they were? And, as a general rule, he didn’t fuck with things that were over a hundred years older than he was. He was cursed enough as it was.

All dialogue stopped as Jack continued forward, watching in awe at spruce trees, at least fifty feet tall, sprouted up around his pathway. They looked like solitary watchmen, each one with beady eyes and prickly, needled branches ready to tear a man to pieces. Jack loved them.

The path he was taking opened up into a clearing. Jack paused, keeping his eyes on the rounded cobblestone entrance up to the stone steps. His mind took in the sight of well cared for, polished white brick. There were no weeds or disruptive tree roots.

“Fuck,” Jack muttered. “I guess someone comes out here from the government and takes care of this place. Kind of gives it less of the spooky haunted feel.” He knelt down and ran his hands over the bricks. That wasn’t going to stop him. He didn’t care if this thing was the next Rose Red, he was going to find his way inside.

“Folks, this place is gorgeous,” Jack said to Gizmo, who was hovering silently beside him as he walked. There was no need to rush now. “There is an enormous fountain over here, obviously broken but in great shape.” He pointed to a large fountain right in front of him, between the steps and the door.

A huge dragon lay in the middle of a stone pool; a coloured pearl sat clutched in its claws, and its mouth was wrenched open in a terrifying roar. The fangs looked ready to bite off the head of anyone who got too close to its prize.

“I could honestly move in here tomorrow, the aesthetic is just…” Jack brought his fingers up to his mouth and did his best rendition of a chef kiss. “It looks like someone just bundled up everything I love in houses and dropped it here in my favourite location. The middle of nowhere.”

He stepped up to the fountain and stared at the dragon. “Hi there, big guy. I’m not going to take your pearl, I promise.” He put his hands on his hips and gave it a smile. “Though I am going to say, you are one very handsome sculpture. You ever think of doing modelling? You’d do great. You could just eat everyone else.”

Jack laughed at his own joke, and was happy when Gizmo joined in, beeping and bouncing in the air. “Come on, Giz. Let’s walk around the back, see what we can find before we try getting inside.”

Going around the side of the building had them coming upon a sitting area. Stone benches sat around yet another fountain, and while it still had a dragon, this one was curled, sleeping around a pearl similar to the other.

“Do you think there’s a whole series? Wouldn’t that be a super cool find?” Jack asked out loud. He ran his hand along the rim of the fountain, and then pulled away with a sense of… something. It was close to being watched, but more like being hunted. He willed himself to calm down. He was at an abandoned castle in the middle of nowhere. It was normal to feel odd.

“The heebie jeebies are settling in,” he teased. He turned away from the fountain and headed toward the front door. Jack’s pack was becoming a tad heavy, and if he was going to stay the night, he needed to set up. “We’re going to get set up and settled in, maybe rattle some old bones—and I’ll check back in with you. Or maybe not.” He winked at the camera. “What is life without uncertainty?”

Gizmo clicked, turning off the recording. He zoomed around Jack’s head, off to shoot some footage of the other fountain while Jack climbed the too-big steps. He’d be back when Jack went to open the door.

“God, I really could live here,” he murmured to himself as he made his way to the top. The large double doors beckoned to him like a siren, and he was unable to deny the call. They were carved from a dark wood, and had a set of large, golden knockers. Both were polished, the rings held between tooth-laden mouths and angry snarls. “More dragon motif. Loving it.”

There was a happy beeping alerting Jack that Gizmo was back and ready for action. “Hey there, little buddy. Can you believe this place?” He pressed his fingers against the door. An unknown emotion rose up in him when he saw the near-black wood so starkly contrasted against his skin. He had to swallow down the choked, almost tearful sound that wanted to croak out of his mouth. Jack had to shake his head and stomp a foot to ground himself.

“Okay, alright, let’s go inside. And hope the spiders don’t get us.” He wiggled his fingers at Gizmo, knowing he sounded more than a bit sad. Gizmo beeped and hummed alongside him as he went inside.

If Jack had been breathless before, it was nothing in comparison to now. The large windows he’d seen from the outside poured natural light onto the stone flooring—a vibrant, woven, runner rug stretched from the door to the beginning of the steps. It was oddly impeccable.

“Should I… should I take off my shoes?” Jack asked out loud. “I feel rude walking on this with my shoes on. But the floor is pretty cold.” He waited in the doorway for a moment before nodding. “No one’s home, I guess. And runner rugs are made for walking on, even if they’re suspiciously pretty.”

Jack cleared his throat. “Hello? I beg your pardon, but I’m… I’m sort of an investigator? Not the paranormal kind, so I’m not going to go around asking you questions. But I do want to ask your permission—I just want to come in and have a look around. This place is gorgeous, and I can already tell it has an incredible sense of architecture.”

He paused, listening. When nothing but the quiet whisper of wind through stone greeted him, he took a careful step forward. And then another. The door didn’t slam shut and no ghost appeared before him, so he assumed himself safe. Jack took a moment to close the door behind him—he wasn’t raised in a barn, after all.

“You can already tell that these pillars are of the classic, Corinthian order.” Jack pointed up at the ceiling, surprised at how well-lit the area was. Gizmo ascended to show off the detailing. Jack tugged out his phone and watched his screen light up to show him what Gizmo saw. “Corinthian order is the most ornate of the three classical Greek orders of pillars. And if we we look to both my left and right.” Gizmo swung to both, slow and careful. “You can see that behind these pillars are tall, arched windows.”

Jack began to walk over to one of them. “They’re high enough off the ground—in fact, this entire citadel is on a very tall base—that you can’t peek in from what would’ve been a courtyard or a place to entertain guests. But the master of the manor could look down on you. Literally.” He was at the window ledge now, looking down through it. “Now, you’re probably wondering why a citadel in the mountains has these large windows. It has to be cold, right? Right and wrong. You see, glass was expensive and honestly an ill-fit for castles.”

“So, instead of glass, a lot of people would have horn window coverings. What this means is that you’d take horns and soak them in water for just about three months; and then you would flatten and stretch them to let light in. Over time, these coverings can easily give way, leaving these windows open to provide the beautiful light we see now.”

And it really was beautiful light. He felt like he was almost in the castle of a cursed princess, beautiful and spelled to remain that way until her curse was broken. But Jack knew that it was just an old, stone building that had withstood the test of time.

“I don’t have the time to explore everything,” Jack said with a huff. “But I think we can get a pretty good feel of this place, huh Giz? We’ve got several wings, but I’m more interested about what’s in there. ” Jack pointed at the door directly in front of them. It was as ornately carved as the front door, and was up the short set of stairs. “If Kingdom Hearts taught me anything, that’s a ballroom. And if Bleach taught me anything, it’s a throne room. I can dig either, to be honest.”

Gizmo didn’t have much input on that, simply waiting for some order or another. Jack snorted and continued forward. Up the stairs and to the grand door awaiting him; flowers were carved into the door, each petal delicate and soft. They looked almost like roses.

With a careful push, the doors opened—Jack startled back at how easy it was, but then crept forward to peer inside. It was dark, in this room. Dark enough that Jack fished out for his flashlight and Gizmo’s flashlight turned on. His illuminated the room much better than Jack’s, though he refused to put it away.

Black wood shone underneath Jack’s feet, stretching to every corner of the rounded room; more pillars spouted out of the ground and tucked themselves firmly against the ceiling. In the centre of the room, lit by Gizmo’s light, was a throne made of stone. It looked domineering and assertive, screaming its dominance with its jagged edges and hard, rounded armrests.

Jack wanted to sit in it. The urge was overwhelming. He shrugged his backpack off and carefully rested it against the wall. Gizmo beeped up above him. The noise grounded Jack and pulled him away from his overpowering curiosity. He looked up at Gizmo, who was just… hovering in the air.

“Oh, yeah, uh.” Jack rubbed at the back of his neck, a little ashamed. Sometimes, he would be mesmerised by the history surrounding him. Other times, his inner child demanded him do things befitting, well, a child. Luckily no one was around to see it, and he controlled what videos were posted to his channel. Nobody wanted to see a grown man dance around at the sight of a hundred year old statue. “This is obviously a throne made of stone—I’m not sure what kind.”

He turned around to rustle through his pack; he found the book he was looking for and hauled it out. It was a guide to the local plants and animals in the area that he’d picked up at a local rest stop. It wasn’t in English, but his kanji was sufficient—he had grown up in China, after all.

“Let’s see if they have anything about local rock deposits around here.”

Normally Jack would just Google the stone later, but he was itching to know more. He flipped through the index, and then the pages, but found nothing. And then he flipped through them once more, slightly bummed. But he still moved forward, approaching the throne.

“It doesn’t really match anything that I’ve seen before,” Jack muttered. He put the book down at the foot of the throne. He ascended the small stairs in front of it. Jack considered sitting in it once more, furtively looking around as if someone was watching. He almost laughed at himself with this—there was no one here. Only him, unless someone else decided the long trip was worth it. Which, given the rumours, was unlikely.

“It looks uncomfortable,” Jack muttered quietly. That didn’t stop him from slowly sinking down onto it. The stone was hard and unyielding and Jack let out a quiet huff: definitely uncomfortable. The armrests were far enough from the centre of the seat that only Jack’s longest fingers could reach them. “I don’t feel like this was used that often. Or at least, not for long periods of time.”

He leaned back, fully, and withdrew his hands to himself. Jack let his eyes slip closed, and a smile overtook his face. “Imagine some emo warlord just sitting in here, brooding. Alone. Very Beauty and the Beast like.” Jack relaxed his shoulders, wincing when they knocked against more stone.

A sudden noise had Jack jerking up out of the seat; it sounded like something crashing—a great booming, like thunder. Without thinking, Jack was up and out of the throne and darting across the room. Gizmo beeped and followed behind as he grabbed his bag and shrugged it over his shoulders. He was running on blind panic, heart thudding beneath his breastbone and body struggling to adjust to being active once again.

Jack was barely out of the throne room when he found himself on the floor, winded and unsure of what had just happened. He skidded across the smooth stone floor and rolled once or twice, losing his backpack in the process. Jack rolled onto his stomach, clutching at his side. He gasped and greedily drew in deep breaths. A security guard. Someone from town—the sound had been the doors slamming open. He’d been caught. He’d never see home again—

“Pretty little thing.” The words were chilling and they sent Jack’s heart into his stomach, where it fluttered weakly. He curled into himself more, the desire for this to be a bad dream sudden and enough to make him sob. “Interesting little thing.”

“Please, oh my God, I’m sorry, I… I don’t know who or what you are, but I’m sorry.” Jack was shuddering now. Pain was smarting where he’d landed roughly, namely his back. A sudden softness was touching his face and he quickly came to realise they were… fingers. Caressing his cheek. Tracing his jaw bone.

“You will stay.”

Jack jerked as he was pulled up and into thick, burly arms. Adrenaline suddenly overwhelmed him and the pain dulled, briefly—he instantly began to thrash, much to his captor’s surprise. Without further ado, Jack was shifted from a bridal carry to over the person’s shoulder. Jack immediately began to rail on their back, kicking his feet uselessly as he was carried off; Gizmo was nowhere to be seen, and his flashlight had broken in the fall. He couldn’t see anything.

“Let me go, you bastard,” Jack demanded in a shriek. “You can’t just kidnap people. Let me go, or I… I…” He didn’t know what he’d do. But he would do something. He just let out a frustrated scream.

“What will you do?” The amusement was there. Now that Jack could hear the voice clearer, now that it wasn’t hissing like some dollar store movie villain, he would pin it as a male voice. Deep and low, rushing forward like water over river stones. “You are in no shape to fight me, and you are… intriguing. You will stay, as my guest, until I decide to release you.” At this, Jack’s struggles increased, and he wiggled fruitlessly. “But if you continue this racket, I will deem you unworthy of my time, and I will kill you instead.”

Jack froze at the threat. The arm around his middle gave a squeeze, and he swallowed. He did his best to go limp, trying to think his way out of this. He’d been kidnapped by some weird guy in the mountains. A nice-smelling guy in the mountains, but a weird one all the same. The castle was big. He could make a run for it, when the coast was clear. It was after he got out that would be the problem. There was only one trail, and it was still easy to follow.

His planning was interrupted by the sound of a door squeaking open. Light filled Jack’s gaze, sudden and soft. He blinked, trying to adjust quickly. Before he could, he was tossed onto a thick, soft comforter. Jack let out a small squeak as he bounced on it—he was then up and pressing himself against the wall on the opposite side, taking in his captor for the first time.

If there was one thing Jack was sure of, he was certainly male. Broad-chested with long, dark hair flowing down his back. Immaculate. Poisonous yellow eyes peered at him, pupils slit like an aggravated cat. The man was all muscle, that was obvious, even though he wore a disgustingly pretentious dragon robe. A robe meant for an emperor, not some creepy guy living in an abandoned castle.

“You may call me Chase,” he greeted. It was cool and lacked any recognisable inflection. Jack swallowed. His body was trembling, every inch of him on high alert. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be home, in his safe apartment, binge watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

Chase became impatient. He took a careful, measure step forward, eyes flashing. “What is your name, mortal?”

“Uh, I… Jack. Jack Spicer?” Jack spat his name out like it was a question, like he was unsure of who he was. And in the moment, he wasn’t sure. “I don’t know what you want, but you don’t want to do this. I’m not really that interesting, I swear. I just want to go home.”

“This is your home now,” Chase replied as if it were obvious. “Welcome. You have trekked a long way here, and you will change and rest now.” He picked up Jack’s back and gave it a thoughtful hum. “Not these.” He tossed the bag across the room, and Jack heard the laptop inside die with a sickening crunch. He wanted to reach out for it, to scream, but instead he stayed frozen. Stuck.

Chase walked away, though it wasn’t too far. Only to a small armoire a few feet away; he dwarfed it easily, and Jack wondered what it would be like standing next to the man. Compared to Jack’s measly five-two, the man was a giant at six-foot something. While he rustled through clothing, Jack let his eyes wander around the room. Candles were lit on a nearby desk—they looked to be burning, but not melting. They gave a dim glow to the room, nothing impressive. Nothing like the power of a flashlight.

The walls were decorated in tapestries, each one telling a different story. Jack couldn’t read them from where he was, and he wasn’t eager to do so.

“Here. Change.” A robe was thrown on the bed and Jack yelped and skittered away from it. Chase looked less than impressed as he came back over; he didn’t stand in front of the bed, however. Instead, he took a seat at the desk and turned away from Jack. “Change, and then sleep. We have much to discuss in the morning.”

“You have to let me go,” Jack demanded, though his voice was a whisper. Tears were threatening his eyes. He propelled himself forward, nearly toppling off the bed. With little grace, he was up and headed toward the door. Chase didn’t move.

“The door will not open for you. Not without my permission,” Chase said. He sounded almost annoyed. Jack tried the door, and honestly began to cry when it wouldn’t give under his weight. He tugged and twisted, turned and wrenched, but it did nothing. He was about to shoulder the door when he was picked up yet again, by the waist.

Jack flailed and sobbed, unsure of what else he could do. Once again he was deposited on the bed.

“You will change, or I will change you,” Chase warned. He picked up the robe and thrust it at Jack, who took it shakily. Chase then returned to his desk. Turned away from Jack. Jack didn’t know if it was some fucked-up way of giving him modesty, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d just been kidnapped. Kidnapped on his own expedition in a citadel that people never came back from.

Jack slowly and shakily pulled off his clothes. He didn’t want to find out what Chase could do if he really became angry. He made sure to fold his clothing carefully and lay them over the end of the bed; it was truly an impressive bed and Jack had to wonder why it was pressed so tightly to the wall. Once the robe was in place and a new round of tears started, Chase looked back at him.

“Stop your snivelling,” Chase grunted. He was up and out of his seat. Jack let out a panicked shriek as Chase came near, tugging off his own layers. “I’m not going to bed a tiny little thing like you. You are mine, and currently the most volatile piece of my hoard. You will stay here, with me, until you calm down.”

“Until you brainwash me?” Jack asked. His voice was pitchy and afraid, he knew it was. “Don’t come near me.” He kicked at Chase, who seemed thoroughly unamused by his stubbornness. “This has to be some kind of nightmare. I must’ve fallen asleep.” Jack pressed his hands to his face, trying to wake himself. Trying to blot out the monster on the other side of them.

“I said I am not going to bed you,” Chase repeated. “There’s no need for this fear.” The bed shifted with an abnormally heavy weight and another sob left Jack. Chase scoffed; thick fingers wrapped around his wrists and pulled them apart. Jack squeaked and closed his eyes. He was getting light-headed with his fear.

Hot breath ghosted over his cheeks and a sharp whimper left him. “Are you hungry? Is that why you whine so?” Chase gave Jack’s wrists a squeeze. Jack shook his head, sobbing out words that weren’t words, pleas that were too waterlogged with tears to be understood. A forehead pressed to his, deliriously hot. “Come now, mortal, I have little time to comfort you.”

“Please let me go.”

“I do not let my treasures go,” Chase informed him dryly. He tugged Jack’s wrists, pulling him down toward the bed. “If you are not hungry, you will sleep. I will watch over you.” Jack went without a fight, suddenly exhausted; a headache was blossoming in his forehead from his crying. One of his hands were let go, only for a strong arm to wrap around him and tug him close. The smell of brimstone filled his nose and he coughed.

He smacked his free hand weakly against Chase’s chest. Chase didn’t retaliate, didn’t move. Jack sobbed again, and his other hand was released. Chase combed back his hair with a careful touch. His face was pushed further against Chase’s clothed chest. He struggled for a moment, but exhaustion and fear won out, sending him spiraling toward sleep.


When Jack woke up, he was surprisingly alone. The candle on the desk was out, though the room held an otherworldly glow. He found himself still wrapped in the robe, and weighed down by a thick quilt that kept him adequately warm. On the table was a plate, covered by a thin square of muslin. A note was carefully placed on top of it—Jack couldn’t read it from where he was, but he could tell that the handwriting was elegant and curled at the edges. A goblet of some sort was set nearby, golden and heavily gemmed.

He slowly pulled himself from the bed, only now realising how large the robe was on him. It must’ve belonged to the Chase fellow who’d kidnapped him, who was holding him against his will; it made Jack sick to his stomach, but his own clothes were missing. And he preferred the robe to walking around naked.

Jack’s legs were shaky as he stood, and then walked, over to the desk.


It was a single word. A command. Jack carefully peeled the muslin back, surprised at the warmth that radiated from the plate. And then by the contents themself. Chicken drumsticks, crispy and well seasoned, mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, and a hearty helping of mixed, steamed vegetables. A set of cutlery was stashed neatly to the side.

“Poison?” Jack wondered out loud. He reached for the goblet and stared at the contents suspiciously. Something thick and red lingered inside, but there was no doubt that Chase had left it for him. It was chilled under Jack’s fingers, a direct opposite of the food. He considered abandoning the meal for a moment, but his stomach let out a loud rumble or protest.

Jack carefully pulled the chair out and took a seat. It was about as comfy as a wooden chair could be. He then picked up the carefully rolled silverware, filled with apprehension. He sent a quick prayer to whomever was listening, unrolled his utensils, and then dug in.

The food was amazing. There was no other way to put it. The chicken was melt-in-your-mouth good, the potatoes were of an almost sinful buttery consistency, and Jack didn’t even have to choke the vegetables down. A quick sip from the goblet revealed watered-down wine. He considered the consequences of continuing to drink it, but decided to drink it all the same.

“I see you have regained your senses.”

Chase’s voice came as a surprise, and Jack nearly spit his next sip out across the desk. He swallowed instead, though it was painful and forced. He cowered in his chair as Chase walked up to him, redressed in something equally as regal as before. His hands were gloved, and under his arm was a multitude of hangers.

If he noticed how nervous Jack was, he paid no attention to it. Chase instead grabbed one of the first hangers and held it out to Jack. “Change. I care not if you lounge around half-naked, but I need to see if these fit.”

“Why are you doing this?” Jack asked, voice shaky. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to change,” Chase replied dryly. “I suppose I’ve an answer for your first question, however.” He walked over to Jack, the clothing still offered to him. “Put this on, and I will give you said answer.”

Jack carefully took the clothing, but froze when he realised that Chase was still staring at him. He cleared his throat, which only earned him a raised eyebrow.

“I am not going to turn my back on you. There is clean underwear in there as well—these will do for now, until you get a proper bath. Now, hurry. I’ve little patience for any games you might think of playing.” Chase was all business, and Jack didn’t want to risk his wrath. In the new lighting, he seemed twice as big. Twice as terrifying.

Jack turned from him as he changed. He couldn’t face him. As the clothes slid over him, he shuddered; not because they were cold, no. They were warm. Like they’d been freshly pulled from the dryer. He yelped when hands placed themselves on his hips. He tried to dart forward, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“They’re a tad big,” Chase muttered as he pinched at the clothing, ignoring Jack’s stuttered cries. His fingers slipped upward, almost tickling Jack’s side. “Hm. You are much smaller than I thought.” And then the hands left him. Jack curled forward, hugging himself. He twisted around to stare at Chase with horror, though the disinterest in his gaze had him relaxing the tiniest of bits.

“This castle is mine,” Chase told him, folding his arms behind his back. “I have lived here for over fifteen hundred years—society bores me, and the men and women who clamber into my room typically bore me even more. And yet you...” He cocked his head to the side. Chase paced forward, steps even and sure. “...You spark a curiosity in me. That is why I am doing this. That is why I have added you to my hoard.”

Jack swallowed. “A hoard? Like a dragon hoard?”

Chase smiled then, and it had Jack regretting his question. It was all impossibly sharp fangs. His body screamed predator. “Exactly. You belong to me now, I have decided so.” Chase was within inches of him now, the smile fading back into a look of indifference.

“That… that sounds a lot like you did this because you just… you just felt like it. You just wanted to.”

“That’s correct,” Chase responded, sounding mildly pleased that Jack understood. “The quicker you behave, the quicker you will adjust to your life here.”

“I don’t want to adjust to life here. I want to go home.” Jack wanted to yell it, but all that came out was a near-tearful whisper. Chase huffed, and he rose a single hand to wipe at Jack’s watering eyes. Jack flinched away.

“You belong to me,” Chase repeated, as if that changed anything. “And you will stay.”


The next few weeks were stressful, though similar enough that Jack’s life settled into a pattern. His first meal of the day would await him when he’d wake up, and then Chase would come keep him company until lunch, and then dinner—and then he’d be tucked into bed. He was shown where the bathroom was, or what Chase considered the bathroom to be. There was a deepset tub for bathing, with water from a bubbling spring that never seemed to end. Jack wasn’t even sure that the water was warm underneath the castle, and that it wasn’t just some… some magic that Chase claimed to possess.

As he calmed down, Chase showed him more and more of the wing they were in. A solarium. A breakfast room. A dining room (where he proceeded to take his lunch and dinner thereafter). A library with more books than Jack had ever seen in his life. When he’d seen the library, that was the first time that Chase touched him without the intent to move him, or check on his condition.

It was just his fingers, lightly brushing his shoulder—his hair was growing, now that he didn’t get it meticulously trimmed. It seemed to fascinate Chase in that moment, and he carefully slipped his hands through the crimson strands. Jack’s heat beat faster than it ever had before, using his ribs as if they were a set of drums. The touch was gentle, careful—and over before Jack could ask about it.


The command came later that day, when they were in the solarium. Jack was staring up at the mountains surrounding the castle, even higher than the building. His heart fluttered at the idea of leaving, of escaping. But he had to wonder about what was really out there for him. Student loans? Shitty Christmas dinners with parents that couldn’t look him in the eye? Sure, being kidnapped and held captive by some inhuman (supposedly inhuman) fuck was fucked up. And he really didn’t like it. But besides his vlogging, there really wasn’t much waiting for him.

“Sit?” Jack asked, turning to face Chase. Chase nodded and pointed to a low stool. “What are you planning?” He made sure that his suspicion was known, though Chase seemed unaffected.

“I said sit, Jack.” Chase patted the stool. Jack frowned and grumbled as he made his way over; Chase ignored him. Once Jack had sat, he found those thick, gentle fingers combing through his hair. “You have an odd beauty about you.”

It was a compliment. Jack jerked upright, though not away from Chase’s hands.

“But it can be improved.” The hands left for a moment, sweeping Jack’s hair out of the way. He then returned and Jack shuddered as a heavy, cold necklace was fixed around his neck. Another followed, and then another—his hands were taken up next, and he watched, mesmerised, as each one was adorned with a heavy ring. Chase turned his hands this way and that, watching them glint in the light.

“What’s all this?” Jack croaked.

Chase was combing his hands through Jack’s hair again, and then lifted it. His breath puffed against the side of his neck. “You’ve your ears pierced, yes?” he asked. His fingers came up and gently pinched and rolled at Jack’s earlobe. Jack gave a quick nod. “Good. I would hate to have to have done them myself.”

“You wouldn’t have laid a goddamn hand on my ears. I’ll bite your nose off,” Jack snapped in return. Chase chuckled—a sound that Jack was hearing more and more often lately.

“Perhaps not. Are you allergic to gold?” He tapped Jack’s earlobe. Jack shook his head. “Good. I prefer gold.” Jack didn’t have to ask what was going on. Soon, a pair of heavy, dangling earrings were slipped into his ears. Chase batted at them playfully, getting Jack to snort and turn his head away.

Chase rounded Jack to look him over. Jack crossed his arms over his chest as he did so.

“Much better,” Chase praised. He looked troubled however. “It is always good to see my treasures together. Not that you wear all of them at once, but I’m sure we will work through them.” He stepped forward and his hands were playing with Jack’s hair once again. “There’s something missing, here.”

“A moral code?”

Once again, Chase chuckled. “No. Your hair. It needs to be adorned as well. But not here.” Jack got up from the stool, grunting at the added weight around his neck. Chase offered a hand, and Jack eyed it warily before letting Chase lead him back to the bedroom. His gut was twisting this way and that, but in the worst of ways. He felt dolled up for a reason. And oddly enough, he liked that reason.

This wasn’t good.

They were back to their shared bedroom before Jack could overthink it. Chase sat down first, and bid Jack to sit in front of him. Jack looked at him nervously, but carefully took a seat in front of him all the same; the heat of Chase’s chest radiated through his clothes.

“I will wind gold through your hair. And perhaps silver, too,” Chase murmured thoughtfully. “I will have take it out before your bath, of course, but then we can change them out. Every situation has its silver lining.” He was so close that his words rumbled through Jack’s body; he tucked his hands between his knees and stared down at the floor, incapable of coherent speech.

Chase began work at once, and Jack wondered where he’d gotten the bits and baubles he now possessed. He hadn’t brought them with him, and his outfit had no pockets; the more that Jack lived in this godforsaken citadel, the more he came to believe that Chase truly was a dragon of sorts, using ancient magic to bring it to life. It reminded him a little too much of Rose Red, what with all the missing people over the years. Then again, if Chase was a dragon, he could’ve just eaten them. He could just eat him.

“Jack,” Chase whispered his name. Jack tilted his head up to look at Chase. Chase’s hand was careful as it laid itself against Jack’s throat, forcing him to stay still. Chase stared into Jack’s eyes, as if searching for something. Jack swallowed and then offered a timid smile.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked in just as soft a whisper. Chase’s eyes drifted down to Jack’s lips, and Jack’s heart stuttered in his chest. “Chase?”

“Little treasure,” Chase murmured softly, drawing his fingers down Jack’s throat. Jack’s adam’s apple jumped. The touch had Jack feeling so much more sensitive than he had before. His nerves lit up, tingled with the cautious fingers. “You are mine.”

Jack cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t have time for a question—because Chase was kissing him. His lips were warm, almost blazingly hot against his. It was like kissing the sun. Before Jack knew it, he was reaching up and wrapping an arm around Chase’s neck, clutching at his hair. The jewellery wound into his hair clinked together like champagne glasses and Jack’s eyes slid shut. Jack’s arms were like an affirmation, a green light.

“I knew you were mine,” Chase purred against Jack’s mouth. He licked at Jack’s lips, and then parted them. Jack grunted as his mouth was captured again, the kiss equally as sweet as the one before. “The moment you walked through my gates, with nothing but curiosity, I knew that you would have to stay.” His hands smoothed down Jack’s sides, though it was barely felt. Jack’s head was swimming, chest heaving with panted breaths.

“You will stay.”

Chapter Text


“Be careful,” Chase rumbled; Jack was playing on one of the lower walls of the castle. He hopped from one merlon to the other, each jump shakier than the last. Chase folded his hands behind his back and then cocked his head to the side, watching Jack. He was an oddly graceful young man. A small sense of pride welled up inside of Chase—a handsome piece of his hoard, neatly dressed in heavy robes and slippers to guard his feet from the cold.

Chase had picked out the clothing himself. They were a beautiful shade of teal, complimenting the white of Jack’s elegant neck and hands—pearls were stitched into the sleeves and the hems of his pants, shining in the milky, cloud-filtered light of the sun. They fit Jack snugly, and if not for the heaviest of his robes, Chase could have traced the outline of his body.

“I am being careful,” Jack called back. He turned to smile at Chase and it was dazzling, like staring into the sun. Chase nodded at him, mouth turning up in a gentle, toothless smile. Jack laughed at him, and then jumped forward—he stumbled, one of his slippers catching the side of the stone.

For a moment, there was nothing—the world around Chase became muted and slow as he watched Jack fall. He heard the subtle tearing of his own clothes, mixed with the sound of flesh doing much the same. Scales rose to the surface of his skin and darkened to a sickly, olive green. Muscles bulged, then ripped, then regrew at an extrodinary speed.

Four padded, clawed feet hit the ground, their transformation no more painful than pricking oneself with a needle. His body had shifted whilst he lunged, crossing the space in a single, powerful bound. Chase felt like he wasn’t in control of himself. An onlooker, not privy to his own emotions or in control of his own actions.

“Jack,” Chase rumbled out. A long, thick tongue lolled out of his mouth, mimicking a dog as he tried desperately not to pant. His body ached with the quickness of his change, reminding him of how long he’d kept himself confined in his human form. He rubbed the side of his snout against Jack’s face, not caring if he covered it in saliva. “I told you to be careful.”

“What the fuck, ” Jack whispered. Chase ignored him, rolling so that his body covered Jack’s completely. To protect him from further damage. He was shaking, no doubt from his fall. Chase’s tail slid over stone behind him, knocking against the wall and several stone benches. “You’re… you’re a dragon. An actual, real life dragon.

Chase shushed him. “Not now.” He nosed at Jack’s jaw. “No more playing on the wall. Especially alone.” The claws of his feet dug into the stone, anchoring him so he could better inspect Jack for damage. Every one of his nerves was on fire, burning hot with concern. Sparking, more like.

“Not now? You’re a dragon. You’re… you’re scaly and have claws and oh my God, your teeth— ” Jack was abruptly quieted by Chase pressing his snout against Jack’s mouth. Jack froze, staring into Chase’s eyes. Shaking hands rose to pet at the side of Chase’s face, soothing him with gentle strokes. “—I’m really… I’m really part of your hoard, aren’t I?”

“Yes.” Chase’s tongue flickered out, tickling at Jack’s mouth. A jolt of satisfaction worked through him when Jack’s mouth parted without question. “A very treasured piece of it.” He licked along Jack’s lips, tasting him. They were rich and sugary from the cake he’d had earlier, with his lunch. “I told you to be careful,” he repeated, running his tongue along Jack’s cheek next.

Jack swallowed. “I… okay, I’ll be more careful.” His body jerked as Chase’s head moved downward, sniffing at Jack’s chest and then further down. Chase’s wings unfurled at the slight musk he found, mixing pleasantly with Jack’s body wash. It was a wonderful scent. “What are you doing?”

“Checking you for injuries,” Chase stated gruffly. “You’ve no doubt scraped something.” Jack giggled as his shirt wrinkled and exposed the pale of his stomach. “And you’re shaking with fear. You need to relax.”

“Have you seen yourself? You’re teeth are as big as my hand.” Jack tried to wiggle upward, but Chase denied him. His tail wrapped around Jack’s upper thigh and tugged him back down. “You’re a fucking dragon.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “You’ve said this. I care not for your complaints of my form—and you shouldn’t worry yourself with it. If you fear that I might eat you, your fears are unfounded. If I wanted to eat you, I would have when you first arrived.” His snout pressed against each of Jack’s hips, and then dipped to press against Jack’s crotch.

Jack yelped and kicked out. “Oh no, don’t put your nose there, what are you doing?” His words were panicked. Chase let out a huff, taking advantage of the situation to take in a deep breath—Jack smelled wonderful beneath his clothes. But he’d promised the little thing that he wouldn’t bed him. Kisses were as far as he’d take his affection, for now. He needed nothing more.

“Could you please get your mouth away from my dick?” It was more of a demand than a question. “I can’t say I’m comfortable with all those fangs near it. I’m afraid you’re going to tear it off.” Chase rolled his eyes yet again, but pulled back.

“You’ve twisted your ankle, haven’t you?” Chase asked, lips barely moving with the question. Jack furrowed his brow, silently asking how Chase knew that. Chase slid one of his paws down to tug up Jack’s left pant leg. His fingers were careful as they smoothed over slightly swollen skin. Jack winced at the touch.

Chase’s senses snapped to attention. He had to take Jack inside, get him settled and comfortable. He pulled himself away from Jack, regretfully, and then walked around him in a circle. He watched carefully as Jack sat up, slightly dazed.

“Don’t stand,” Chase ordered. He pressed his snout to the back of Jack’s neck. “Are you sore anywhere else?” He worried he’d been too rough with catching him. Maybe he’d bruised him—it wasn’t often that he misjudged his own strength or control, or doubted it, for that matter. But with Jack, there was always concern.

“Uh, my sides hurt a little,” Jack muttered. “And I… kind of screamed when I fell, so you know.” He carefully rubbed at his throat. Chase pressed his head between Jack’s shoulder and neck, rubbing his smooth scales against the skin. “But besides that, I’m fine. Thanks for catching me—I mean, I don’t think I would’ve died, but I’m pretty sure I would’ve broken something.”

Jack paused. “Have I mentioned that you’re… you’re a dragon? Because you are. And it’s kind of freaking me out—did you eat the other people who came to investigate the castle? I guess it’s not cannibalism at that point but fuck, please tell me you don’t eat people.”

“Isn’t it enough that I don’t eat you?” Chase questioned, sniffing at Jack’s hand, that lingered near the tip of his snout. Jack’s hand gravitated upward and pressed between his nostrils, rubbing the scales gently. “I am simply protecting what is mine. They come here with an intent to steal my things. I am allowed to eat anyone who tries to steal my property.” His tail wrapped around Jack’s middle, drawing him close. “If it makes you feel better, I have no taste for human flesh. It is far too mild, too stringy for my palate. I only eat what wanders on my doorstep.”

“Well,” Jack snorted, shaking his head. “It’s nice to know you only eat humans who piss you off.” He tried to push himself up, to stand. Chase hissed and clung to him tighter. “Hey, I need to go ice this, put it up or something.”

“I will carry you,” Chase huffed, mildly offended that Jack assumed otherwise.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Chase, I can walk with a sprained ankle. It’s not the end of the world.” He struggled to get up again, glaring when he wasn’t allowed. “Seriously. I’ve done if before. I mean, it hurts a little bit but—”

Chase cut him off with a displeased growl. “ —You will not be walking anywhere for the next week.”


“Yes, week. Your ankle needs time to heal.” He rolled his shoulders back. “I will fix this. I will fix you.

Chase’s tail slowly unwrapped from Jack’s torso, just so Chase could gather him in his arms. Jack yelped and clawed at Chase’s neck as he was lifted high into the air.

“You can walk upright?” Jack asked, looking down at the ground below him. It was a fair distance, Chase would admit, after all he was no small beast. But Jack had nothing to fear. “God, that’s a long way down. Are you going to fit through the door?”

“Are you going to stop asking questions?” Chase asked in response, nuzzling at Jack’s hair affectionately. He had the primal urge to give Jack a bath, to lick him clean with his tongue.

Jack kissed the bottom of Chase’s jaw. “No. I love questions. Your constant impatience fuels me.” Chase snorted and flicked his tongue against Jack’s lips, tickling them with the forked end of it. A giggle left Jack. “You really don’t have to carry me.”

“I can fit through the door,” Chase replied, folding himself down so he could squeeze through the entryway. Jack winced as the movement shook him—Chase’s form was already folding in on itself, body shifting and transforming with wet schlicking and the crunching of bones. Jack’s face contorted into disgust, but he didn’t voice how he felt.

“That sounds like it hurts,” Jack murmured after a moment. He reached up and gently drew his hand down Chase’s throat. The scales were still present there, raised and smooth under Jack’s fingers.

Chase shrugged. “If it does, I learned to ignore it long ago. There are more important things to worry about.” He clutched Jack tighter to his chest, watching his face crumble once more in pain. It sparked a knowing in Chase. Cold and heavy, it nestled right next to his ever-beating heart.

Jack was human. More than that, he was mortal—he would die someday. Would leave Chase alone, after long. Chase stopped, looking down at the smooth, snow-white skin of Jack’s face. Before his eyes, it looked like Jack was aging, growing wrinkly and old in his arms. His breath hitched as his heart gave solid, thudding beats, each one feeling like a punch to his chest. Jack wouldn’t die. Not while Chase could do something about it.

“Something wrong?” Jack quipped, sounding nervous. Chase dipped down and pressed his mouth against Jack’s, featherlight. Jack leaned up, returning the kiss. “You aren’t really that bothered by me falling, are you?”

“I am very bothered by your recklessness,” Chase admonished. Don’t you know how small you are? he wanted to say. Don’t you know how easily you’re broken? He nuzzled Jack’s hair again. The solution was obvious. His eyes flicked back over Jack’s features—he looked ashamed. Jack needed to be immortal, just like himself. He had to have the blood of ancients running through his veins, to preserve his pretty little face.

Chase set him gingerly onto their shared bed; he quickly and carefully propped Jack’s ankle up onto a pillow. He then peeled back Jack’s pant leg, frowning at the bruised skin. He pressed a kiss to it. A part of his pride stung, knowing that he’d let this happen.

“I will get you some ice. Don’t move,” Chase murmured. He laid a hand on Jack’s chest, feeling his heartbeat through the thick, soft wool. It was tempting. Jack was tempting. “I will return shortly. Surely you can amuse yourself until I return?”

“I don’t know, I get pretty bored.” Jack stretched his arms up over his head. A slice of pale, white skin was revealed as he did so. Chase petted his stomach and was then slipping out of the room.

It would take a great deal of magic. That much was clear. Extending someone’s lifespan, a human’s lifespan: it was nigh-impossible. And preserving his current form was harder still. Chase folded his arms behind his back and furrowed his brow. Jack… surely Jack knew. Surely Jack knew that his stay here wouldn’t come to an abrupt end, by death or otherwise. He understood that Chase would take the steps necessary to preserve him.

Chase straightened. And perhaps… his newfound immortality might make it easier to—

Chase shook his head, clearing it of rambunctious thoughts. He could think of such things later, after he had Jack safe and sound. There was a little town below his castle—an hour’s walk, shorter with a horse or donkey. He could bring Jack down with him, the next time he went for supplies. If nothing could harm Jack, then there would be no issue with safety, from the townspeople or otherwise.

“Amer, Simolvoth,” Chase snapped as he spun into his innermost lair. Stone shifted and squealed behind him as feline backs arched—the stone gargoyles, each impressive in both stature and power, slinked beside him, moving as gracefully as living things. They twisted around him delight, their purring reminiscent of a landslide. “Find me a human babe. Innocent. Newborn, perhaps. Bring me its blood.”

Stone shrieked and crackled as wings snapped open. A wicked smile unfurled on Chase’s face. “I will take care of everything else.”

‘Everything else’ was a task that would take a few weeks, at least. In between distracting Jack and caring for his injury, he managed to gather the components. A dozen things, all rare and unique. The most rare, of course, was the blood of a dragon. Chase’s blood beaded out of the cut across his wrist. It was black and thick, bubbling up and dripping down into the cauldron below.

It hissed immediately, reaching a boil. Steam rolled up and off of the surface of it, and the contents turned a vicious, angry red that reminded him of Jack’s hair. He smiled into it, watching it toss and turn, banging angrily against the sides like a wild cat.

“So this is where you’ve snuck off to,” Jack’s voice teased from outside the door. He was peeking in. “Whatcha doing?”

Chase swept in front of his cauldron, regarding Jack with a cool look. He stepped forward and cupped his face. He dipped down and kissed the corner of Jack’s mouth.

“What are you doing?” Chase asked, pushing him back through the door. “Sneaking around?” His hands tiptoed down Jack’s sides, rucking up his shirt. “Trying to find out my every secret?” Chase pressed their noses together, exchanging a soft breath with him.

“Yep. Seeing what I can find for my show. Want to guest star?” He hooked an arm around Chase’s neck. “My fans want to meet the dark, tall, and handsome boyfriend who lives in a spooky castle on a hill.” Chase puffed up at the compliment. He kissed over Jack’s face, keeping them soft.

“I would rather leave you to your wanderings and you leave me to my work,” Chase said. “I will be with you, later. I promise.” Forever. He tacked on inwardly. “Now go on, leave me be.” He released Jack with a gentle press of fingers against his lower back. “Go.”

Jack huffed but did as he was told—he was frustrated, if his heavy, stomping footfalls were any indication. Chase would make up for it later; Jack was cute, even when he was nosey. It only increased his desire to keep him close. He turned back toward his room, slipping back inside and making sure to lock the door behind him. He wouldn’t suffer any more interruptions from Jack.

The cauldron boiled down to a thick, rich red, like wine. Chase carefully ladled it into a golden, gem-encrusted goblet that matched the one Jack typically used. The liquid swirled inside, kissing the shining walls. He would let it cool a bit further, and would bring it with dinner. A single sip would do it, though it’d be better if Jack managed the entire thing.

He found Jack in the bath. Jack had his head pressed against the edge of the tub. He cracked an eye open when Chase walked in.

“What’s that?” Jack asked sleepily. Chase let out a hum, and set the goblet beside Jack’s head. A tray of tiny cakes was set beside it. A tad drier than normal, giving him reason to take more than a few sips. Chase made sure that they were still delicious.

“A treat. I feel horrible for pushing you away earlier.” He drew his thick fingers through Jack’s hair. Jack chuckled and flipped over, revealing his back—Chase let his eyes wander down the pale skin, counting the scars he already knew well. Jack had a story for each one. They now reminded Chase of how delicate he was.

“Are you trying to check out my ass?” Jack asked playfully. Chase’s eyes snapped up to look Jack in the eye. Jack gasped—it was over-dramatic and accompanied by a hand pressed to his mouth. He accidentally inhaled a few drops of water that’d been on his palm and began to cough, pressing his mouth into his elbow.

Chase’s hand found a place on Jack’s back and rubbed soothingly. He grabbed the goblet with the other hand and offered it to Jack—he watched in delight as Jack took it, and then took a sip. The coughing ceased instantly. Jack took another swallow and then sighed. A dazed look had entered his eyes.

“That’s some good wine,” Jack said, licking at his lips. “What is that? Old?”

Chase chuckled and shook his head. “No. Fresh from a nearby vineyard.” He didn’t mention that the vineyard happened to be him. Chase reached forward and brushed his thumb across Jack’s bottom lip. He smeared the bit of potion that was left there. “Here. Try one of the cakes.” He nudged the plate toward Jack.

“My hands are wet,” Jack whined. Chase blew a breath through his nose. He reached forward, taking one of them. He took a careful bite—he hummed at the taste and nodded his head. “Good. Very good. Did you make this?”

“Yes, though I take no credit for the recipe.” Chase once again wiped at Jack’s mouth, collecting stray crumbs. He brought it up to his mouth and kissed them away, pretending to ignore the look that Jack gave him in return.

Jack swallowed. He blindly reached for his wine and took a big gulp. He watched Jack’s cheeks turn bright red. Chase reached an arm forward and caught Jack’s chin. He tugged him forward to kiss him, sharing the taste—it was sweet, sweeter than he thought it could be. Chase curled his fingers, dragging thin red lines into pale skin.

“Don’t take advantage of me when I’m drunk.” Jack pushed at Chase’s hands, and Chase willingly let go.

“Of course not,” Chase murmured. There was no alcohol in the drink, though the blood in it would account for the dizziness. “Would you like me to carry you to bed then?” Jack blinked at him, slow and sleepy. Chase glanced at the goblet, half-finished. It was better than nothing. The magic would start working through his veins soon and it would be murder on his system.

Jack leaned against the edge of the tub, staring up at Chase in interest. “Yeah,” he answered after a moment. There was something in his eyes, but not a bit of it was unsure. Chase went to retrieve a towel and was only a bit surprised when he turned to see that Jack had crawled out of the tub and was standing shakily on the edge of it.

Chase tried not to look down. He wrapped Jack carefully in the towel and then hauled him up into his arms. Jack hiccuped and then giggled. He pressed his hands to his mouth as he hiccuped again, though it did little to muffle his laughter. Realising this, he rolled over, snuggling into Chase’s chest and hiccuping again. Chase let out a soft, pleased noise as he felt hands grope at his chest and shoulders, trying to get closer.

Jack was easy enough to slip into his bedclothes, after he’d been dried adequately. Smooth, wine-red silk was tugged up his legs and ass, then tied carefully in the front. Jack leaned heavily on him, brow furrowing—discomfort was settling in now, perhaps a slight ache in his stomach. Chase was sorry to see the giddiness go.

“Hush now,” Chase murmured as he pulled a shirt over Jack’s head. The sleeves were heavily embroidered and just tight enough to stay around his wrists. “Let’s lay down, hm? Let’s sleep.” He led Jack to the bed and set him down on the edge of it. Jack wiggled backward until he was up near the top of the covers.

“Sleep is for losers,” Jack muttered, though he tucked his legs under the covers all the same. He let his eyes slip closed and gave a yawn. His mouth formed a soft, pink ‘o’. Chase sat at the end of the bed, watching him slip his arms underneath the covers, letting the comforter cover his mouth. “Did you put something in that wine?”

Chase shook his head. “No. I think that you’ve a poor constitution when it comes to alcohol.” He shifted up the bed and laid his hand on top of Jack’s chest. “And you drank quite a bit of that… wine, in a very short amount of time. Perhaps that’s what has affected you so?”

Jack grunted and rolled away from him. “Maybe,” he answered, voice cottony as he spoke. “But if you do anything suspicious, I’m going to saw your hands off. And your wings.”

“I would never do anything against your will, especially if you aren’t in control of your mental facilities. And I promised you that I wouldn’t bed you.”

“You’re no fun,” Jack grunted. “I’ll have you know, I was pretty popular back home.” He stuffed a hand under his pillow. “People were lining up for a chance at this ass, and you’re being such a gentleman about it. Or a prude.” He looked over his shoulder at Chase, who cocked an eyebrow.

“Are you saying you want me to have sex with you?” Chase asked, now curious. “You’re very tiny, after all. You couldn’t take me.” He ran his fingers down Jack’s back, counting the vertebrae with his fingers. “You’re so fragile.

Jack snorted. “Uh-huh.” He pressed his face into his pillow and took a deep, steadying breath. “You going to crawl into bed, or—”

“—You’re more tired than I thought,” Chase teased. He laid down on his bed, scooting close until he was curled around Jack’s back. Jack let out a peaceful sigh. “Saying such things.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Jack’s temple, who gave a slight wiggle under the covers. “Saying such silly things,” he continued. His fingers ghosted up Jack’s side—he slipped his hand down and pressed it to Jack’s chest, feeling him take several deep breaths, descending into sleep.

Chase threw a leg over Jack’s—he pressed his face into Jack’s hair. His face scrunched in distaste as he realised that Jack hadn’t washed his hair. He’d fix that once Jack woke up. Alive, happy, and immortal. Destined to stay by his side forever.

“Thank you,” Chase whispered.

“For what?” Jack asked, getting Chase to jump, but only slightly. Jack tilted his head to the side lazily, smiling up at Chase. “Fooled you, didn’t I? Thought I fell asleep.” Jack groaned and rolled over, pressing his face against Chase’s collarbone. “But I didn’t.”

“Are you going to?” Chase asked, brushing his hair back from his face. Jack nodded, staring up at Chase with sleepy eyes. “Then sleep. I’ll get you dinner when you wake up.” He pressed a kiss to Jack’s forehead. “And finish washing that hair of yours.”

Jack nodded and nuzzled forward. “Okay,” he sighed softly. “I’m still watching you.”

“You do that, little one,” Chase purred. “And I’ll watch you in return.” He pressed their foreheads together. “I will always watch over you. You will always be assured safety in my arms.” Jack’s breathing levelled out once again, as calm as quiet as his heartbeat. Chase settled in—he’d take a short nap, with Jack. Sleep was the best thing for him, right now. It would allow the change to happen far quicker, and with far fewer complications.

“Sleep well, Jack.”

Chapter Text


Chase didn’t intend for it to come to this. Jack had been looking up at him, still wet from his bath—Chase could see him trembling under his bathrobe, could smell the scent of arousal hanging in the air. Those plump, perfect lips were hard to resist, overtaking his desire not to break his little treasure.

“Jack,” Chase whispered; he pressed a light kiss to Jack’s mouth and inhaled sharply as he collapsed against him, hands fisting in Chase’s shirt. “You don’t know what you’re asking.” His voice was quiet, but still audible.

“I’m not asking for anything,” Jack corrected, smoothing his hands up Chase’s collar to lock around his neck. His thick, vibrant lashes batted enticingly. “I’m offering. If you want me, take me. If not, then tell me that you don’t.”

Chase’s voice got stuck in his throat. “You are delicate,” he argued, though one of his hands gravitated to Jack’s hip, eager to dip underneath his robe, but he didn’t dare. “But I’ve not wanted another in so long.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of Jack’s mouth.

“You’re old as fuck,” Jack teased. “Right? You trying to tell me you don’t have enough control to keep me in one piece?” He fiddled with a lock of Chase’s hair, looking particularly devious. Chase let out an insulted rumble. Jack pulled away before he could kiss him again.

“Come back,” Chase admonished, tugging Jack toward him. Jack turned his head away and Chase let out a quiet huff. “Jack, yes, I want you. Give yourself to me.” This time, when Chase went to kiss Jack, he opened his mouth, an invitation for a deeper, hotter kiss—and Chase took it with greedy fervor.

Jack hiccuped as Chase pulled him up, pinning his thighs to either side of his waist with his hands. Jack had framed Chase’s face with his hands, holding it still as he kissed him. Chase’s heart thudded in his chest, quicker than it ever had—no partner had excited him so. His body tingled with the desire to mate the lithe, young thing.

“I would have you splayed out under me on silk,” Chase hissed against Jack’s mouth. “I will have you in my chambers, not that tiny room we have shared.” Jack pulled back, a question in his eyes. “You did not think that that little thing was my true room, did you?”

“Yes?” Jack answered. “It’s the only room we’ve been in since I’ve been here.” He squeezed his legs a bit around Chase’s waist. “Do you only bring people you fuck in there, or?”

“I thought it might be a bit much for you to take in, at first,” Chase replied, slowing his pace to lick into Jack’s mouth, slurring his words whenever he could. “But now—now I cannot abide by the guest room.”

Jack was going to say something more, but Chase covered his mouth with his own before he could. Jack let out a tiny, pleased mewl and it felt like he’d been shocked. His hands tightened on Jack’s thighs and he let out a tiny snarl. He had to beat back the desire to shift and mount Jack like he would a female dragon. Jack deserved gentleness, and that is what Chase would give him.

Chase expected Jack’s awe at the sheer amount of treasure that littered his main chamber; in fact, Jack was so stunned that only the feeling of a solid bed beneath him had him jerking back to reality. His eyes met Chase’s and he relaxed against the bed.

“This, I…” He slowly set his hands down and smoothed them across the shimmering, golden silk beneath him. “It’s so beautiful.” Chase nodded. Jack looked at him, eyes wide. “ You’re so beautiful.” His hands slid into Chase’s thick, dark hair.

“No,” Chase murmured. He dragged his hands down the bed on either side of Jack. “You are beautiful, Jack.” He drew a piece of Jack’s shirt into his hand, pulling it up to reveal a patch of pale, snow-kissed skin. Chase’s stomach tightened at the sight of it. He shifted down and kissed at his belly button.

When Jack giggled, it was a blessed sound.

“You have a stunningly beautiful skin color,” Chase murmured. He pushed Jack’s shirt further up, eyes flicking up as Jack pulled the shirt off, revealing round, dusky pink nipples. Jack tossed the shirt to the other side of the bed—it slid off the covers and to the floor.


“Don’t worry about it,” Chase hushed. “It will be there afterward.” He kissed Jack’s stomach, feeling it twitch beneath his mouth. He pulled himself back up, considering where to start. “Every bit of you is irresistible.”

“Compliments will get you nowhere,” Jack huffed, cheeks darkening with the compliment. Chase drew his fingers down Jack’s chest. “What are you planning?”

Chase pursed his lips. “I’m not entirely sure. I think…” He dragged a finger around one of Jack’s nipples, watching it pebble under his touch. “I am going to pleasure you in every way that I can think of. Until you and I tire, and are sated.” He leaned down and took the nipple into his mouth.

“Oh, okay,” Jack breathed out, eyelids sliding down to half-mast. Chase didn’t bother to look up at him—instead he brought his free hand up and tweaked the untended nipple between his knuckles before rolling it and giving it a slight pinch. Jack squirmed underneath him, teeth pinning lips and then releasing them to let out slightly-panting breaths. Not quite requests, but Chase would have him begging soon enough.

“Careful with the fangs,” Jack suddenly whined and Chase popped free. He looked at Jack in concern. “You didn’t nick me, I’m just scared that you might.”

Chase scowled, though it was entirely playful. He gave Jack’s nipple a tug and he whined again, but this time in pleasure. “I can control my mouth, Jack. Perhaps you could take a lesson from it.” He pressed a kiss in-betwixt Jack’s breasts. Chase then trailed open-mouthed, teeth-free kisses down his torso, each one wet and hungry.

“You’d miss the sass,” Jack replied with ease. Chase drew a hot, wet tongue over Jack’s abdomen, chuckling. “What else are you going to do with that mouth, if you know how to use it so well?” Chase cocked an eyebrow at him, but didn’t respond. Instead, he hooked a finger in Jack’s waistband and gave a soft tug. His pants slid away with ease and Chase had to restrain himself—he wanted to paw at Jack immediately. He wanted to kiss his delicate hips, and leave marks of bruised devotion up and down the white of his thighs. But he also wanted to worship his pretty cock and hear him scream in ecstasy.

Once the pants were dealt away with, it only left Jack’s underwear—Chase could see the curved outline of his erect cock pressing against the cloth, head wet and leaving a dark spot on the cloth. Chase went to nuzzle it, but stopped at the expression on Jack’s face.

There was a combination of need and contentment warring on his face, and it was beautiful. Eyes half-mast and glazed over complemented the way his mouth had flopped open—each breath was on the edge of a whine, near imperceptible. Jack’s cheeks had turned a beautiful, deep red that made him look like a porcelain doll. Chase couldn’t look away, watching as Jack raised a hand and ran it through his hair, shaking it out. Locks of it fell down over his shoulder and contrasted sharply with his skin, even in the low light.

“Something wrong?” Jack asked, blinking slowly.

“Not at all,” Chase whispered. His voice had turned husky with desire. Snapped from his daze, Chase pressed his face into Jack’s crotch, mouthing at his cock on the outside of his boxers. Jack drew in a sharp, hungry breath and let out a moan in response. Chase’s cock jumped at the sound, and he couldn’t imagine the noises Jack would make when he was actually being fucked.

The underwear was off with a tear—Jack jumped at the sound and then proceeded to laugh as they were discarded to the floor.

“Damn, you really do want me, huh?” There was a bit of incredulity in his voice. “Going to be honest, thought this was a desperation fuck at first. You’ve been stuck up here all alone, first person that comes along—” Chase sat up, staring at Jack with what must’ve been an uncomfortable intensity. “—Chase?”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have any words. Chase let his eyes fall over Jack’s now naked form, taking in every sharp angle and soft curve. His brow furrowed. He couldn’t find a single thing unattractive about Jack. He let his eyes ghost back up to meet Jack’s eyes.

“You’re correct. I am desperate for you, but not simply because you’re the first person I’ve seen. I’ve seen plenty of humans come up to pillage and destroy my home—I have ripped each one of them limb from limb. You, you Jack.” He leaned forward, until his mouth was barely an inch of Jack’s ear. “You, I want to possess in every way possible. I want to know that you are mine in entirety.”

Jack shuddered and then gasped as Chase’s hand found his cock. “You are a part of my hoard, but you are more than that. There is no dishonesty, in this coupling. I want you, and only you. In every way I can.”

A low whimper left Jack, and he sought out a kiss that was easily returned. Chase growled into his mouth, letting it vibrate through Jack. Another whimper greeted him and fingers tightened in his hair. “Fuck,” Jack whispered quietly, letting his eyes slide all the way closed. “You certainly know how to get your point across.”

“Don’t ever think I don’t want you,” Chase said. It was a warning, and one that Chase knew he’d conveyed well. Jack’s body let go of any residual tension that still lingered. Chase let out a pleased grunt. He pressed kisses up and down Jack’s throat before moving back to his cock.

“What do you like?” Chase asked, cupping Jack’s cock again and stroking it gently. He pressed a kiss to the wet head and then flattened his tongue against it. Chase felt nails graze his scalp and he smiled. He drew a single finger up the side of Jack’s cock, humming at how… cute it was. It was nicely sized and cut (not his preference, but it was Jack ), and curved up toward Jack’s stomach when not being fondled.

“I… I’m kind of, uh, it’s been awhile.” Jack’s hands retreated, but only slightly. “But… I typically prefer it slow and sensual. Lots of touching.” He shuddered as hands smoothed up and over his thighs. “Like that,” he murmured.

Chase had expected as much, though it was refreshing that Jack was willing to tell him. Jack was like a doll, to be worshipped and pampered. “But, if you want to, uh. You can pin me down and fuck me. Sometimes I like that.”

“What are you in the mood for?” Chase asked.

Jack flicked his eyes down to meet Chase’s, his smile coy and delicate. “A little of both.” Chase nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of Jack’s cock, and then proceeded to take it in his mouth—he hummed happily at the soft gasp that he got in return and how Jack’s fingers re-tightened in his hair. Jack let out a moan when Chase slowly worked his way to the base, until he could nuzzle his nose into the curly red hair there.

Chase sucked gently, not bobbing—his fingers traced light, invisible lines down Jack’s thighs, moved over and behind his knees. Jack shivered in response, dragging his nails over Chase’s scalp in a gentle massage. His voice rose to a sharp keen as Chase pulled back, suckling at the tip. He popped free, licking spit from his lips.

He turned his head to the side, licking a hot, wet stripe up the side of Jack’s cock. Chase watched him squirm, lips open and panting. His cheeks and torso had turned a beautiful, flushed pink. Watching him like this—Chase could only compare him to a flower, opening up under the trained hand of a gardener.

“Why’d you stop?” Jack asked, huffing each word out. He sounded slightly muffled, and Chase pet at his hips to soothe him as hands pulled from his hair. Jack propped himself up on his elbows, watching through glazed-over eyes as Chase reached for the jar of oil he’d set aside, not necessarily in preparation for this evening, but with a far-fetched hope that one day it might. Jack must’ve noticed, because one of his legs moved to make his ass more available. Chase laughed.

“I thought it’d been awhile,” Chase mused, opening the jar.

“Just cause it’s been awhile doesn’t mean I don’t know what a man looks like when he’s about to fuck me,” Jack argued in response. Chase cocked an eyebrow, unable to lose his smile. “Especially when I want to be fucked.”

Chase let out a curious noise. “You want to be fucked then?” he teased, pulling his dripping fingers up, watching the oil glisten in the light as it rolled over his fingers. Jack nodded eagerly, eyeing the fingers with an intense, hungry focus.

“Of course I do. I let you get me naked, didn’t I?” Chase had to appreciate the faux irritation in Jack’s voice, though it was hard to buy when he was smiling and his legs opened just a bit more, offering Chase a better view of the space between his thighs—the space he wanted to be in so badly.

Chase captured Jack’s mouth, kissing him soundly as he slid his fingers between his thighs. Jack wrapped his arms around Chase’s neck. There was a slight hiccup as one pressed against his entrance, and then in slowly. Jack tilted his head to get a better angle on Chase’s mouth. Chase let out a surprised grunt, but allowed Jack to take control of the kiss. The intensity was delightful.

“Oh, fuck.” Jack’s head fell back as he broke the kiss, legs shaking slightly. Chase paused, and then pressed a second finger into him. There was a hiss, and then a short cry as both fingers found the same place as before—Chase kissed at the corners of his mouth and trailed them down his jaw. He didn’t want to muffle any noises Jack might want to make.

One of Jack’s heels kicked the bed. “You’re good,” he praised. “So good.” He let his eyes close in an undeniable look of pleasure. Chase burned it into his mind, giving loose thrusts with his fingers. He’d have to wait a bit longer before he could truly make Jack scream.

“I’ve had a bit of practice,” Chase replied. “You’re so tight, Jack. Are you sure you can take me?” It was a tease. A jest.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” Jack growled out, tugging at Chase’s hair. “You prepare me right, I can take every inch of you.” Chase laughed at his response.

“I’m sure you can,” Chase rumbled out. “You are full of surprises.”

Jack grunted. “Hopefully I’ll be full of something else here soon.”

Again, Chase laughed.

“Patience. I think you need a bit more—” He twisted his fingers, listening to Jack let out a gasp mixed with a expletive that he would be hard-pressed to repeat it himself. “—preparation.” Jack let out another one at the idea, tugging a bit sharper at Chase’s hair. “I thought this is what you liked.”

“I do like it. I really, really do,” Jack whined in response, kissing Chase again, pressing his lips across his cheeks and nose, little pinpricks of heat that were as bright and white-hot as stars. Chase turned his face, capturing Jack’s mouth, wanting to feel the searing heat on his lips. Jack whined quietly, hips bucking and trying to gain some sort of friction against Chase. Chase eagerly ground his hips down, allowing Jack everything he desired.

“You’re so loud,” Chase rumbled out, sliding his free hand through Jack’s hair; he thought to pull it, but decided to simply admire its softness as it slid away from him. “I want to make you louder.”

Jack snorted in the midst of his panting. “You like screamers?” he asked, pulling back just enough to look Chase in the eye. His tongue peeked out, slowly licking his messy lips. Chase focused on it immediately, reading Jack’s lips more than hearing his words when he spoke. “Because if you think I’m loud now, you’re in for a surprise.”

Chase pulled his fingers out of Jack with a lewd, wet sound—his fingers trailed across Jack’s balls, fondling them briefly, before giving his cock a firm stroke. Jack’s eyes rolled back and he bit down on his bottom lip. A moan worked around his pinned lip.

“I want to eat you up,” Chase said. Smoke rolled out from between his lips, hot and sharp on his tongue. Jack rolled his eyes and hooked a leg over Chase’s clothed hip.

“You can eat me out after you’re done fucking me,” Jack told him, nipping at his bottom lip. His tongue flicked out to catch a wisp of the smoke leaking from Chase’s mouth, and to his credit, he didn’t flinch. “Not before.”

“How cruel.”

“To the victor go the spoils,” Jack said, waggling his eyebrows. “And that conveniently includes my ass. So get on it, cowboy.” He kissed Chase’s chin—and then let out a startled grunt as Chase’s hands grabbed at his thighs and pushed them far enough apart that he knew they had to ache. Pants and shirt were shimmied out of and tossed away—Chase would be pleased if he never had to wear clothes again. He’d also be pleased if he could keep Jack in his bed forever, mouthy as he was.

Chase pretended not to notice Jack’s ogling. He knew he had an impressive physique. He did not know, however, with what care Jack would touch him. Jack’s fingers were light and careful as they gripped his bare shoulders, dancing over them and tracing the lines of muscle he found.

“Do you like what you see?” Chase asked. He pressed a line of kisses up Jack’s abdomen, settling nicely between his thighs. Jack’s legs wrapped around his torso immediately, locking him in place. “Is that a yes?”

Jack looked up at him, eyes wide. “Please.”

Chase paused in his reverence to stare at Jack. He carefully dragged one of his hands down Jack’s side, using only his fingertips so as not to leave any lines. His mouth brushed the space underneath Jack’s breast as his other hand went down to adjust himself—he wanted his entry smooth and welcomed. Any pain Jack might have would come from his size and strength, and had to be avoided at all cost.

“Stay nice and relaxed for me,” Chase whispered, finally having made it to Jack’s throat. He nuzzled the skin there and pressed his mouth to the side of Jack’s neck silently as he pressed forward.

“I’ve taken dick before,” Jack squeaked out. His entire body shook beneath Chase. Chase had a similar reaction, body shaking. The hand that had guided him jerked and landed on Jack’s thigh, using it to ground himself as the head of his cock popped in. “Fuck, move,” Jack hissed, digging his heel into the Chase’s back.

Chase shushed him, kneading Jack’s thigh. “Give me a minute,” he breathed out, finding himself winded by how extraordinary Jack felt around him already. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He kissed up Jack’s neck, and then across his jaw, before pushing forward.

The sound that Jack made had him moaning in response. It was a long, drawn out wail that ended in a content, muffled hum as he buried his face against Chase’s shoulder. Chase nipped and bit at his neck, happily sinking in until their hips met. That was what Jack wanted, after all.

“I told you,” Jack panted out. “Told you I could take every inch and fuck if it isn’t the best thing I’ve felt in a long time. Fuck.” He let his head fall back, eyes closed and mouth open. “You have to let me get my mouth around that sometime.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” Chase wanted to add that they had an eternity together, but he kept his mouth shut. Surely Jack already knew. He didn’t need it repeated. Jack tugged him back down, kissing him quiet—Chase grinned and returned the kiss with fervor. Jack was so active in bed, for with his kisses, his hands began to wander, over his arms, over his chest—they tweaked Chase’s nipples playfully before wandering just about every area he could reach.

Chase rocked his hips forward, watching in glee as Jack rocked with them, hips rolling to move with them. The look on his face was one of bliss and it had Chase feeling oddly prideful. The kisses resumed, and though Jack tried, most of them were sloppy. Chase kept to rolling and rocking inside him until he was whimpering and begging with silent whines and wet, open-mouthed kiss for him to move faster.

Chase drew his fingernails across Jack’s stomach, watching his whole body twitch at the gentle touch.

“You’re so sensitive, too,” Chase stated in awe. “The gentlest touch has you quivering.”

“Please,” Jack asked again and his voice was so pitiful that Chase had to obey. He gripped Jack’s hip, nails digging into the skin to hold Jack’s hips still. The rest of Jack’s body stilled with it, and his arms once again wrapped around Chase’s neck, anchoring him. “Don’t break me,” he teased as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Chase’s mouth.

“You’re ridiculous,” Chase replied. He tried to match the teasing tone in Jack’s voice, but it came out so soft. And then he gave a cautionary thrust.

Jack’s legs tightened further around him, and Chase realised that he hadn’t been lying. Jack was loud. He was louder now than he was when he’d fallen off the wall. Not wanting him to quiet down, Chase started up a rhythm, keeping it evenly paced, if not a tad slow—the bed rocked with his thrusts, as did Jack. He was both lax and tense, shivering and still at the same time. It was so hypnotising that Chase forgot about himself for a moment.

“Chase,” Jack all but howled, digging his fingers into his shoulders. “Chase.”

“I know.” Chase hooked Jack’s thighs under his elbows and delighted in the way Jack’s face contorted in a new sort of ecstasy when he reached deeper. His cock, earlier forgotten, reminded Chase that it was almost painfully hard, even with how relentlessly he was fucking Jack now. He let go of one of Jack’s legs so he could bend over him without making him fold into an uncomfortable position. “I’m going to go a bit faster, hm?”

Jack nodded. “Yes, please. Harder. Faster.” Jack cracked a smile at himself and Chase cocked an eye as he assumed his earlier position. “Better. Stronger.” He then laughed, much to Chase’s puzzlement. Must be some part of popular culture. He would ask later, after he’d properly mated—Chase went to correct himself, but shrugged it off. It was as close to mating as the two would get, as he didn’t think he could convince any human to take his dragon form. Once he’d properly mated Jack, then he would ask.

Once again, the wailing, yelping, and absurdly lewd noises began again. But this time they’d risen into a fever pitch as Chase fucked him into the bed. The frame squeaked against the floor and Chase’s hands began to haphazardly wander Jack’s body along with an equally as chaotic trail across his face and neck.

“Jack,” Chase rumbled out, barely tasting the smoke on his own breath as he kissed Jack. “My crown jewel. My hoard.” He nipped at the side of Jack’s neck, the sudden urge to bite flooding his system. One could scent gold and jewelry, antiques and other treasures. But Jack—Jack was not owned in the same way. He could find other gold, could murder those who took it. But if someone took Jack, hurt him, defiled him in any way—that was something that couldn’t be recovered.

Jack was the first to come, and once again, Chase was proud. It was both ugly and beautiful, that pride. Knowing he made Jack come, but wanting to draw it out longer—and then he remembered what Jack had said—about eating him out. It had him grinding instead of thrusting, the head of his cock pressing against Jack’s prostate and sending him into an overstimulated fit. He whimpered and whined and begged but Chase didn’t stop until he came himself.

When Chase did come, he accompanied it with a single, deep bite into the meat of Jack’s shoulder. He felt bad as he did so, hearing the strangled noise of pain that Jack made as his fangs pierced the skin. But instead of being pushed away, Jack wound his hands into Chase’s hair, mussing it and taking deep, focused breaths.

“You normally come this much?” Jack asked lazily after a minute or so. Chase released his fangs and sat up—he could feel come drip from Jack when he shifted, and then pulled out. He put a hand on Jack’s shoulder, running a thumb over the bleeding wound. “I hope that bite meant you thought it was as good as I thought it was.” He blinked sleepily at Chase and his lips turned up into a tired, content smile.

“I am very pleased,” Chase rumbled happily, letting his eyes rove over the well-fucked body of Jack. There were bruises where he’d gripped Jack too hard, and he frowned. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been fucked by a dragon who’s pretending to be a human,” Jack said with a grunt. He stretched his arms up to touch the headboard. “Don’t worry. That’s a good thing.” The smile never left his face. “I feel amazing. Exhausted, but properly fucked. And fucked good. ” One of his hands tangled with his hair and his eyes slid closed.

Chase chuckled. “I don’t smell blood, so nothing is torn. Though you might be a bit sore for a few days.” Jack’s legs parted with ease as Chase nudged them with his still messy fingers. “I think you owe me something, Jack. I am the victor, hm?”

Jack shook his head with a smile. “You are. You definitely are.” He yawned and opened his thighs just a bit farther and rolled his hips toward Chase. The image had Chase’s head spinning. “Come get your spoils.”

Chase didn’t have to be told twice.

Chapter Text



Chase was sitting on his throne, when Jack came in; he was the image of Hades himself, eyes ringed in black and hair red and bright as a bonfire. Chase watched him in mild interest, letting his gaze linger on Jack’s firm, rounded ass. If he was particularly charming, he might convince Jack to let him eat him out later.

“Yes, Jack?” Chase asked. “Before you get it in your head to accuse me of something, I must insist that I have been here all day.” He gestured to his throne. It wasn’t necessarily a lie, but he hadn’t moved much. He’d been rather content to sit here and meditate through the early morning hours.

“How did you do it?” Jack demanded. Chase pursed his lips, both brows rising in unison, questioning Jack in a single, silent movement. “Don’t look at me like that. I know you’re not stupid. How did you do it?” He stomped up to Chase, body tense in all the wrong ways. A low trill threatened to leave Chase, but he swallowed it down against his will—his mate was angry. He wanted to calm him.

“How did I do what?” Chase asked, letting his expression match his preconceived notion of innocence. “I assure you, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Jack gestured to himself. “Me. This.” He gestured again.

“If you’re suggesting that you’ve forgotten about last night, then I am more than happy to give a repeat performance,” Chase purred out, wondering if this was all some sort of performance for a throne fuck. He should make it clear that Jack didn’t need to be so dramatic to get such a thing. Chase was happily head-over-heels for Jack, and would eagerly fulfill any request he desired. Within reason, of course.

“No, oh my God, don’t play coy,” Jack hissed out. “Have you noticed anything different about me, Chase? Anything at all?”

Chase gave him a once over with his eyes, letting them linger on his well-marked neck and kiss-bruised lips. He shook his lips. “Nothing out of the ordinary. If something is bothering you, Jack, I would prefer that you tell me. Pointing fingers and dancing around the subject does little for your argument.”

“No wrinkles.” Jack poked a finger at his cheek. “Nothing. Not a single one. It’s been ten years, Chase.” He rolled his lips between his teeth nervously. Chase refrained from furrowing his brow. “It has been ten years, and I haven’t aged a single, fucking, day. I still look like I did the day I stumbled into this place. Why?”

Chase covered his mouth with his hand, rubbing slightly. He had to hide his smile, and furthermore, the slight laugh that tried to escape him. Jack didn’t seem amused, and he shouldn’t let on that he was either. Instead, he forced his expression to become unamused and dry. “You’ve just noticed?” he asked, looking unenthused at Jack’s tantrum.

“You can’t just do this to people without their permission, Chase,” Jack growled. “You can’t just change their body composition, do whatever you did to me.”

“I made you immortal,” Chase answered. Jack didn’t seem to care.

“Living forever is unnatural, for a human,” Jack snapped. “We can’t live forever. We should age. We should live our shitty lives, age into wrinkly, ugly sacks of meat and flesh, and then die and crumble into dust.” Chase’s nose scrunched into distaste. “You shouldn’t be able to decide these things. It’s not your right.”

Chase let out a grunt and stood from his throne; he was going to collect Jack and drag him into his lap. The need to soothe him far outweighed his amusement in watching Jack become flustered. Jack tried to bat his hands away at first, but Chase still tugged at him, managing to drag him across the floor as he continued to panic.

“ —Are you even listening to me? You can’t just play God, Chase.” Jack was snuggled into Chase’s arms now, face pressed to his chest. Chase pressed a kiss to his forehead, hoping his heartbeat would help soothe him. “This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. This shouldn’t be possible.”

“But it is,” Chase murmured, stroking Jack’s hair and rocking him slightly. He tucked a piece of hair behind Jack’s ear, surprised at how stunned Jack looked that he actually responded. His fingers slowly massaged down Jack’s jaw as he pulled him closer. “You fell from the wall, remember? I was so terrified.”

Jack frowned. “That was an accident. An accident that I would have survived. Humans have accidents, Chase. It’s part of being human.” Jack crossed his arms over his chest and turned his face from Chase’s. Chase paid no attention, scenting Jack’s hair. He carded his hands through it, humming happily at how easily it slid through his fingers. It was so soft and warm at his touch.

“I could not lose you,” Chase whispered into Jack’s hair. Jack grumbled something unintelligible, arms loosening slightly. Chase shifted him so he was more level with Chase’s shoulder. Chase pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I am so in love with you, Jack, just as I was back then. I could not lose you. You are everything I’ve ever desired. I had to ensure that you’d be with me, out of danger, for the rest of eternity.”

Jack’s arms fell and he let out a defeated huff. He pressed his face angrily into Chase’s neck and gave a little squeak as Chase wrapped his arms tightly around him. He peppered Jack’s hairline with lightning quick kisses, and nipped at his reddened cheeks, feeling the heat of them on his bare lips. Jack mustn’t have been too terribly angry, if he’d so willingly given up. Surprised. Betrayed. Stunned. But not necessarily angry.

“What happens if you decide that you want something else in ten years?” Jack asked, slightly muffled by Chase’s shoulder. Chase hushed him with a quiet click of his tongue. Jack snuggled closer, sighing as Chase cupped the back of his head. Chase pressed a soft kiss to his temple and let the familiar scent of day-old vlogger wash over him. It wasn’t unpleasant, though he could think of wonderful things he could do to Jack in the bath.

“What a ridiculous notion,” Chase muttered. “Don’t you know anything of dragons, Jack?” He twisted a few of Jack’s hairs between his fingers.

“No? Everyone out there?” He pointed to the walls of the castle. “They think dragons are a myth. Nobody knows anything about dragons.” He slipped his arm back around Chase, taking a deep breath. “No, I don’t know anything about dragons.”

Chase chuckled and stroked the back of his head, urging him to tilt his head back. Jack looked up at him and Chase noticed his lips quivering slightly. He pressed a soft kiss to them. “Jack, dragons are very picky about who they sleep with. And when they mate? They mate for life. ” He nosed down until his mouth brushed the prominent bite mark on Jack’s shoulder. “If we were not meant to be, my mark would not have stuck.”

“Are you seriously feeding me some soulmate bullshit right now?” Jack grumbled, though his cheeks were dark with a blush. “You didn’t even know I was ever going to come up here.”

“The universe orchestrated our meeting, I’m sure of it.” Chase adjusted the way he sat, keeping Jack delicately balanced on his knees so he wouldn’t sink between his legs. “I thank the keeper of the stars, every day, for our meeting. She has smiled upon me, in giving me you.” He kissed Jack again, humming in delight as Jack kissed him back.

“You think she decided that big, mean dragons deserve happy endings too?”

Chase let out an offended, faux snort. “We do. Humans are the ones that hunted us down, not the other way around.”

“You’re the ones that like to burn everything down,” Jack accused, lips cracking into a smile. “I love you, you know?” Chase nodded sagely. “God, I love you. You’re so dumb. Such a dumb dragon.” He buried his face in Chase’s chest, clutching at him. “And I’m still mad at you.”

“I can tell,” Chase teased. “Is there anything I can do to ease your anger, hm? Anything at all?” He kissed the top of Jack’s head. He stroked a hand down Jack’s arm and felt him shudder. “Are you cold?”

Jack shook his head. “I’m perfectly bundled up,” he promised. “If I asked you to move heaven and earth, would you do it? What if wanted that?”

“I would have to call in a few favours, but I think I could handle that,” Chase responded. He never had to say farewell, to Jack, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to burn his features into his brain—to remember every facet of his personality, every lilt of his voice. “At least, I would try, every day, to do so. It is the least you deserve.”

“You’re stupidly in love with me, then.”

“I am,” Chase admitted. “Is that a crime?”

Jack shook his head. “No. It’s cute.” He sighed. “But you don’t have to do that for me. ‘Cause I guess what you did wasn’t the worst thing you could’ve done. What you can do instead is much, much easier. And I think you’ll enjoy it more.”

“What can I do to make it up to you? What could be equal to such a slight against you?” Chase asked, trying not to let his playful mood blend into his words. Jack cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Well, this throne is awful big, you know,” Jack murmured. Chase made a soft noise of affirmation, turning to kiss him. “I should make you put your cloak down, then make you fuck me on it. So even after you wash it, you still have to remember what you’ve done, what with that special nose of yours.”

Chase shuddered at the thought of it. The lingering scent of Jack’s pleasure would drive him crazy. It wasn’t truly a punishment at all and it was hardly presented as one. Jack mouthed at his jaw again as a rumbled purr stirred in Chase’s chest. Jack tapped a finger against his chin and hummed thoughtfully.

“Maybe you like that idea too much?”

“Oh yes, far too much,” Chase drawled. He could feel smoke leaving his lips, twisting through his teeth and leaving his mouth in tiny, acrid-tasting wisps. “I can’t even pretend to detest the idea.” He slipped a finger under Jack’s chin and tilted it upward so he could kiss him—Jack pulled a face at the taste of smoke, but opened his mouth all the same, welcoming it as well as Chase’s tongue.

Even after ten years, kissing Jack never bored him. He was an active, yet pliant participant, sweet and hungry in the same breath. Accepting yet defiant, fighting for dominance just enough to be playful, yet submissive enough to be soothing. Jack was the perfect mate for him, in every way. It was odd that Jack would even question that.

“Then maybe I should come up with a different punishment?” Jack panted out as Chase pulled away. Chase had to choke back an unwilling whine, reminding himself that he could always fuck Jack on his cloak later if he wanted. “Something that you won’t enjoy as much?”

“Please?” Chase asked, keeping his voice even—he even attempted a touch of sweetness, though he knew he was no good at it. Jack cracked a smile of incredulity at his attempt, and he shook his head.

“Okay. But that means my ass is going to be an all-you-can-eat buffet.” Jack grunted as he was shifted around, one minute in Chase’s arms, the next standing in front of the too-wide throne. “It’s been too long since you’ve eaten me out.”

Chase cocked an eyebrow as he tugged his cloak off. “Last night?”

“Yeah, too long,” Jack said as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Haven’t you ever heard of breakfast in bed?” Chase chuckled and lowered his head, shaking it. “My ass is good enough, isn’t it?” Jack slapped his hands lightly on Chase’s chest. “I’m just teasing you, you know. I do want you to, you know, go down there, but I want you to know that you’re really good to me in bed. And I really fucking appreciate it.”

Jack pressed up on the pads of his feet and pressed a chaste, light kiss to Chase’s mouth and it felt like he’d drank a particularly bubbly flute of champagne. He laid a hand over Jack’s lower back, drawing him the slightest bit closer.

“You don’t need to apologise,” Chase murmured.

“I know. But I need you to know that you’re doing a really good job, alright? Everyone deserves to know that.” He kissed the tip of Chase’s nose. “Think that’s going to cushion the throne enough? I don’t want to have a sore back later.”

Chase looked back at the throne, and then at Jack. “Perhaps. There is only one way to find out—if you find yourself uncomfortable, we can always move this to the bedroom—or I could bring some cushions out for you.” He stepped out of Jack’s way, making sure to catch a look at his ass as he passed.

“I know you’re staring.”

“I would have admitted it if you’d asked.”

“It’s more fun to catch you staring,” Jack replied. “It’s nice to know I’ve still got it. I guess I’ll always have it now, though. Here I was worrying about grey hairs, joint pain, wrinkles—now I just have to worry about growing a scaly tail and claws, huh?”

Jack chuckled, and then quieted when Chase didn’t say anything. “Chase?”

“You aren’t going to turn into a dragon, Jack,” Chase told him. “I’ve not the power, though I wish I did. To mate with you in dragon form would be…” He took a deep breath, feeling a rush of libido just imagining it. “...It would be exquisite. Climb atop the throne, put yourself on display for me.”

“Want me to take off the pants?” Jack asked. Chase nodded. Jack quickly shucked off his pants and, without asking, yanked off his shirt as well. They were thrown over the side of the throne. They slid off the smooth stone and fell somewhere to the floor. “Damn, it’s cold in here.”

“It won’t be for long,” Chase assured. “But you’re well aware of that.”

Jack climbed on top of the throne, responding with little more than a subtle ass shake. He shook his shoulder-length hair out and placed his hands on the back of the throne. He gave a languid, cat-like stretch, rolling his shoulders and flexing so that his ass was on clear display.

“Not fair, Jack,” Chase rumbled, pleased at the sight.

“I don’t see what’s not fair about it,” Jack muttered in return. “It’s yours if you want it. Just come over and get it.” Chase let out a soft huff at the logic. That was fair, he supposed. He quickly crossed the space between them and grabbed greedy handfuls of Jack’s ass; Jack let out a low sigh of approval, rolling back into Chase’s palms when he gave them a soft squeeze.

Chase hooked a finger under the waistband of Jack’s boxers on either side of his hips and tugged them down. He relished the way they slid over milky white, unscarred skin. It was mesmerising. Chase smoothed his fingers over every inch of open skin with reverence.

He chuckled almost wickedly when he noticed the lingering bite marks on his ass from the evening before. He pinched them playfully and listened with mild glee to the small yelp he got in return. “Hush now, it doesn’t hurt that badly.”

“You don’t know,” Jack argued. “Stop it, or you can forget all about it. I’ll just go lay in bed all day, and you can cuddle up on the stone out here tonight.” Chase growled at him, though there was nothing in it but teasing. Jack wiggled his hips as his boxers were pulled the rest of the way down and then tugged off to join his other clothing in their melted puddle of cloth and color.

Chase almost went directly for Jack’s entrance—but then he pulled back. He peppered kisses down Jack’s spine instead. He could feel Jack relax with each one, body sagging underneath the familiar mouth. Quiet sighs and soft, half-broken moans were slipping out of the corners of his mouth.

“I’m not even doing anything,” Chase murmured.

“I just like your hands on me,” Jack replied. “And your mouth. Feels nice to be loved.” He smiled back at Chase, and it was the dopiest, softest one he’d ever seen. Chase dug his thumb slightly deeper into the meat of Jack’s ass, massaging them the best way he knew how. Jack chuckled.

Chase couldn’t help but tease Jack, after all this. Little licks around his rim, feeling the way it twitched hungrily, searching for more. The way that Jack whined. He let his licks become bold, but wouldn’t dip forward just yet, letting Jack’s legs start to shake before actually diving in.

“Chase,” he breathed out, nuzzling his head into his cape. “Chase, please, I want to be completely lubed up and stretched from your spit. Want to be just sopping from you babe, please.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Chase murmured. “I might hurt you.” Jack whined unhappily—his breath hitched in his throat as Chase went back to the task at hand, eagerly shoving his tongue into his mate. Just because he needed to finger him didn’t mean he wouldn’t thoroughly wet Jack like he wanted. It helped his scent linger, and while there was no one to challenge him up here in the mountains, he didn’t want to risk anyone seeing Jack and trying to mate him in a fit of rut. Jack was irresistible.

When Chase noticed Jack’s hand desperately reaching between his thighs, he batted it away—Jack had been hard for awhile now, though he hadn’t thought he was that close.

“I’ve got you,” Chase whispered, closing his fingers around Jack’s cock. He sucked on Jack’s rim and pressed him thumb under the head of Jack’s cock, listening to the delicious gasp it elicited. “Relax. Relax, Jack. Enjoy yourself.”

“‘M gonna come all over your cloak,” Jack’s voice was muffled by the cloth as he pressed his face into it.

“That’s okay,” Chase cooed. “That’s what I want. I want you to make a mess of it. That’s what you said you wanted too, wasn’t it?” Jack nodded, hips moving with Chase’s hand when it started to fist him. Chase really dug his tongue in, reaching as deep as he could with it, letting Jack ride his face until he came, splattering cum all over his hand and cloak. He pulled his hand away, making sure not to play too much with Jack when he was oversensitive.

Jack was putty. Melty, gooey, happy putty, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

“Fuck me,” Jack slurred, hips swaying. Chase snorted. “ Please, ” Jack begged, and his words were beautiful. Chase stood, jerking Jack’s hips slightly higher.

“I have to get the lube,” Chase murmured. Jack let out an angry hiss at the suggestion. “I’ll be right back.”

“I hate you,” Jack muttered, glaring at him over his shoulder. Chase pressed a finger to his lips, licking Jack’s cum from it before sliding it into his mouth and sucking it clean. Jack swallowed visibly and then hid his face betwixt his arms, digging his hands into his hair. It took only seconds to find what he was looking for, glad that he kept some stored in an accent table nearby for instances like this.

Chase uncapped it and wafted it under his nose. It was a gentle, chemical-free vanilla (Chase couldn’t stand the smell of the other stuff, the orange that Jack liked) so they’d had to meet somewhere in the middle. Jack had come down from his high by the time Chase came back and waggled his hips impatiently.

“Two?” Jack asked.

“Two,” Chase replied, pouring a good amount of lube onto his fingers. “You look good like this, Jack. Wanting me.” He slid a finger between Jack’s ass cheeks, watching as Jack rolled his hips back against it. It sank in with a delicious ease and a low moan left Jack. Chase threw himself over Jack, urging himself to keep his finger slow and steady as it stretched Jack. It didn’t matter how lovely Jack sounded. He needed to be prepared.

Two fingers and more lube later, Jack’s cock was curved in a happy smile against his belly, and he was bracing himself against the arms of the throne, demanding that Chase fuck him immediately. Chase clicked his tongue at his impatience, twisting his fingers in and out of Jack and listening to the litany of noises it brought forth.

“But I like to take my time with you,” Chase murmured. His lips brushed Jack’s ear and he took the soft lobe in his mouth and nibbled at it. Jack’s shoulders tensed briefly, but only briefly. The trust that Jack had in him was inspiring. “I need to have you thoroughly stretched for me, thoroughly relaxed. You deserve it.”

Jack mumbled something unflattering, but pressed back against the fingers all the same. Chase nipped at the back of his neck in admonishment.


“I want to mark you again, sometimes,” Chase murmured, pulling his fingers out with a wet, slick, lewd sound. Jack shuddered. “I want to sink my fangs deep into the back of your neck as I mate you, pin you down with them until you scar.”

“Like I need any more scars from you,” Jack huffed out. He keened as he felt Chase shift back slightly. Chase let out a pleased rumble as the cloth of his pants and underwear was replaced with the feeling of Jack’s skin against his. The wet skin between Jack’s ass cheeks was cool against his cock and he grunted.

Jack widened his legs as far as he could get them. “Fuck, you always feel so big.”

“And yet you always manage to hold me,” Chase replied, gripping himself in his palm. “It amazes me. It continues to.” He kissed the back of Jack’s neck and then pressed forward, eyelids fluttering closed as Jack’s warmth enveloped him. Jack’s breath hitched in his chest and Chase instinctively wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling the bite mark on his shoulder.

“I’m okay,” Jack breathed out at the silent question. “Fuck, that feels good. Fuck, you’re so good. You’ve got such a good dick, Chase. I really appreciate it.”

Chase laughed at him. “I’m so glad that you like it.” He stroked Jack’s sides. Jack rolled his hips back in the little space given him. “Ease yourself, Jack. Let me do the work.” He smoothed his hands up Jack’s chest, finally giving some attention to his nipples.

Jack whimpered and turned his head, batting his eyelashes prettily. His mouth was open in a soft pink ‘o’. Chase leaned over to kiss him, driving his cock deeper and growling softly. He captured the soft hiccup that Jack made in return. Chase balanced his urge to fuck Jack like crazy with the urge to take it slow, settling on a nice, even pace that had Jack urging him on with gasped, rasping pleas.

“Your knees are going to be bruised,” Chase puffed out. Jack mewled out a jumbled response, rolling his hips back again. “Though I suppose you don’t mind. You do like it when I take you on my throne, after all. Does it make you feel powerful, hm? To dirty my throne like this?”

“I… I am powerful,” Jack huffed out. He’d long let go of the arm rests, body contorted to fit into a somewhat awkward shape as he was fucked into stone. “Who else can get a dragon to fuck ‘em so well? At a drop of a hat? To turn ‘em immortal?” Chase was biting at his neck now, leaving love bites where he could find the space.

Chase had to agree. He was irrevocably under Jack’s spell, it was true.

“You are.”

Jack fisted his hands in Chase’s cloak, voice raising in pitch as the head of Chase’s cock slammed into his prostate. He was shaking, unable to keep his hips up, let alone match Chase’s thrusts, or do anything but lay there and take it. Chase exchanged hot, devoted kisses with him, stealing what little breath Jack had, when he could.

“”M so fuckin’ lucky,” Jack whined out, toes curled and body tense. Chase dug his thumb into his lower back, willing him to loosen just the slightest, not wanting to come just yet. He wanted to draw it out, wanted to work Jack just a bit harder. Really make him pant and cry under him. He wanted to make Jack a mess. It was when Jack was at his prettiest—well, his second prettiest.

“A little longer, Jack,” Chase urged. “Hold on for a little longer.” He kissed at Jack’s neck again. His teeth found Jack’s jaw, nipping softly. Jack gave a pitiful whine and Chase almost gave in then and there. Who was he to deny Jack anything? “I want to come with you,” he purred, licking the shell of Jack’s ear.

Jack let out a defeated huff, kicking his foot back, arching his neck as if demanding Chase bite him. And bite him Chase did, sinking his teeth in, but not in the side—no, he went for the back like he’d mentioned earlier, growling and snarling, wishing for all the world that he could sink his claws into Jack’s sides and lock his knot into Jack. But even with the magic keeping his body locked to this plane, that was a difficult task. A human body was still a human body, after all.

“You fucking asshole, ” Jack snapped—he was cut off by his own gasp as Chase grabbed his cock, ruthlessly jerking him off as he thrust into him. Jack let out a stuttered waterfall of groans, unable to get a full one out as Chase kept up a relentless pace, constantly pressing against his prostate until he had Jack coming into his hand once again—and only then did he let himself come, breaking his fangs from Jack’s neck and letting out a roar that was in no way human. Jack’s wail near matched it in volume and was soon swallowed up by Chase’s bloodied mouth.

“Worth it,” Chase panted out through too-sharp fangs, cleaning Jack’s lips of his own blood. “Mm, worth it. ” He ground his hips against Jack’s, keeping their hips flush together—it was fun to watch all of it drip back out of Jack later, and an even more amusing task to clean it all out. “I’m sorry if I upset you, Jack. The urge was too great to resist.”

Jack let out an unimpressed grunt. “Get off of me.” He pushed at Chase. “I’m all folded up like a lawn chair down here.” Chase straightened, letting his softened cock slip free of Jack. A dribble left Jack, and he considered licking it up. “I am so tired. Ugh. Can I just go to bed?”

“No, you’ll ruin the sheets,” Chase reprimanded, grabbing his pants. “You’re going to drip all over the floor as it is.”

“Not if you carry me,” Jack advised, eyes drooping. Chase looked at him, considering making him walk. He then shook his head and walked over, scooping Jack into his arms and foregoing his pants altogether.

Jack wrapped his arms around Chase’s neck and snuggled close. “You always leave me such a mess, you know. It’s not fair. I can never walk afterward.” He kicked one of his legs and then winced. “If you’re this big as a human, how am I supposed to ever fuck your dragon form?”

“I’m afraid that will have to remain a dream, Jack,” Chase informed him. “Immortal or no, you have no chance of taking my beast form. You will have to make due with this one.”

“Only pussies back down from a challenge.” He smacked a hand against Chase’s chest. “Give me the dragon dick. I demand it.” He smacked his hand against Chase’s chest again, that same, dopey smile infecting his face.

Chase pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I must’ve exhausted you more than I thought. You’re delusional.” He shifted Jack in his arms so he could feel his heartbeat against his chest, now slow and even. “And here I thought I’d be able to fuck you once more in the bath. Pity.”

Jack flicked the space under his chin and Chase flinched. “Asshole. I’m still mad at you.”

“Ah, yes, I figured. I suppose that the sex wasn’t good enough, then?”

“Oh, no, the sex was great. I loved it. You’re a god in bed. I just remembered how pissed I was at you when you bit me.” He cocked a single eyebrow at Chase—Chase felt like he was going to be paying Jack back for his mistake for quite the time to come. “I still love you though, so don’t worry. And you have an eternity to make up for it.”

“An eternity that I plan to use wisely, Jack,” Chase assured. “There is no doubt in my mind that you will come to enjoy your immortality with me.”

“Chase, you’re dumb,” Jack announced, flopping an arm over the ones holding him up. Chase looked down at him, curious. “Isn’t it obvious? There’s no place I’d rather be than here. Shitty wifi and all.”

Chase shook his head. “You are quite the romantic, Jack.”