Jared's back collided with the door a moment after he closed it, and after the hours of bitterly boring formalities, he was free to latch his arms around his prince and kiss Jensen the way he'd been longing to.

Their lips touched, and ten years of bitterness and anger faded away to the feel of Jensen, warm in his arms. As a boy by the river, and as a prince in a palace, Jensen kissed no differently. A little more confidence in his hold, perhaps, a little sweeter for his maturity. Surprising himself, Jared sunk into their embrace, allowing Jensen's arms and lips to guide him as he had done so many years ago.

Tears that would never fall burned at the back of Jared's eyes. This was what he had lost. Ten years of love. Ten years of happiness.

They parted slowly, Jensen's fingers warm on his cheek, and a glow in his eyes that had once reflected the moon. The prince's brow dipped, and Jensen's fingers moved to touch Jared's lips. "Are you alright?" He asked, his voice soft, and utterly in contrast to the boldness his station required.

Jared blinked. His hands trembled faintly, and he looked first at them, and then at Jensen, surprised by the honest concern he saw in the hazel-green eyes he knew better than his own.

Catching Jensen's hands in his own, he raised them to his lips. "I'm fine. Perfect, actually." And he was. For weeks, he had faced this night with a manic, nervous anticipation. He had not known whether Jensen's touch would break him, bringing back memories of a time he would forever lost, and burn his soul with the pain of it.

The memories were there, bright and flawless, but instead of breaking him, Jensen's touch did what it always had; he felt warm, safe, and strong. He felt loved. God, how he had missed that.

For the first time in a decade, his little sisters' singing faded away under the pounding of his heart, and he traded the coldness of the grave he stood in for the supple warmth of skin under his fingers.

The door shook as Jared twisted himself around, fastening Jensen between his arms and the wood, pressing himself closer. Jensen's hands framed his head, palms flattened against the dark surface, his fingers flexing with every kiss Jared placed against his bared throat.

His efforts were rewarded with whispered enticements and small, quiet moans. He stepped closer; molding himself against the prince's back and enjoying the build maturity had given him that allowed his body to wrap itself entirely around Jensen.

The last time they had lain together, they had been only boys, hesitantly exploring their own bodies and desires. Back then, Jared wouldn't have even considered pressing Jensen down and taking the prince the way he himself had allowed. Despite their closeness, there were still unwritten social laws, lines that Jared would not dared have crossed, even if Jensen had offered. A prince did not give himself to anyone below his station. That was how Jared liked it, entirely aware that his love for Jensen had included no small amount of awed adoration.

He'd put Jensen on a pedestal, and Jensen had rammed it down his throat.

The prince cried out as Jared's distracted mouth drew blood from the tender skin of his neck. Instantly apologetic, Jared soothed the area with his tongue.

Things would be different this time. He was no longer the naïve boy with stars in his eyes. He controlled armies. He would soon control nations. The country needed to be put back into its place.

Starting with its prince.

Soft fastenings on Jensen's pants parted under the skillful manipulation of Jared's fingers. One strong thigh wedged itself between Jensen's legs, pushing the prince onto the balls of his feet, pressing him closer to the door.

"Do you think they can hear us?" Jared breathed into Jensen's ear, nipping lightly at the soft lobe.

Jensen's laugh was breathless and harsh. "All walls have ears. These ones have a dozen."

Sandy would undoubtedly be close by; she could forever be counted upon to be at Jensen's disposal. Christian would most likely be lurking as well. The young Lord made no secret of his dislike for his cousin's partner. He would be waiting for Jared to show his true colors. He was a problem. One Jared would have to deal with at some point.

Then of course, there were the loyal muscle. Steve and David would be through the door in a heartbeat if they suspected anything amiss. The notion made Jared's fingers dig harder into Jensen's hip. He was going to make Jensen scream and beg.

Lean muscle rolled under the supple skin beneath him, warm and alive, and just as enticing as it had been a decade ago. Working quickly to remove Jensen from his clothes, Jared quickly pressed him back up against the door, pinned beneath his arms.

"Didn't your father warn you against putting yourself at a tactical disadvantage?"

With Jared pressed firmly against him, Jensen was trapped.

Jared would be lying to himself if he said that he didn't find the sight of Jensen, naked where he was not, utterly intoxicating.

With his brattiest expression, Jensen sighed. "Are we really going to talk about my father now?"

"Do you want to?" Jared asked, pausing to scrape his teeth along the prince's strong jaw.

Jensen tried to push himself free from their position, only to be pressed back into place by a large hand against his chest. "No. What I want is for you to follow through on all your talk."

"People don't ever say no to you, do they?" Jared smiled darkly, his holding Jensen just the right side of too hard.

"No." Jensen said perfectly matter of fact. Jared imagined that only the king ever forbade his son anything. People fell over themselves to cater to the princes' whims.

"Hmm, I'll bet." Jared himself had been one of them. Jensen could have asked for the stars, and Jared would have found away to fetch them from the sky. His station and his beauty meant that he was denied very little.

Who was Jared to break tradition?

His fingers slid between the prince's full lips, his thumb tracing a smile, even as Jensen's tongue looped around the digits in his mouth.

"Sweet Christ on the cross, you're good at this. Jared breathed, his knees trebling as Jensen diligently sucked and nibbled at his fingers. "Have you done this before, Jensen? Do you get on your knees for daddy's councilmen?"

Jensen's sharp white teeth sunk into Jared's knuckle. Jared swore, and jerked his fingers free.

Fire flashed in the prince's eyes. "You're lucky I like you so much. No one talks to me like that."

Jared nodded slowly. With his other arm, he hoisted one of Jensen's legs off the ground, knee tucked firmly between forearm and bicep. Both of Jensen's hands clutched at Jared's shoulders as he was lifted off balance, and saliva wet fingers danced coyly down the prince's side.

Leaning closer, Jared scrapped his cheek against Jensen's, lips parted and words full of dark promise. "What if I want to? What if I want to call you 'whore'? What if I want to see you on your knees, your lovely lips wrapped around something thicker than those cutting barbs of yours? What would you do? Have me executed?" He kept his tone dark and playful, watching for the moment when the prince's eyes flashed, and his lips opened.

Jared pounced.

Two of his fingers, wet from Jensen's mouth, found the small entrance to his body and pushed. The startled curse on Jensen's wet lips was lost against the crush of Jared's. The hands on Jared's shoulders drew bruises to last for weeks as teeth scrapped lips and tongues collided, Jared's fingers mercilessly attacking the spot in the prince that made him writhe.

Every man was equal in this. Jensen had no control over his fate in the bedroom. His body owned him as everyone's did.

With no spare hand to wrap around the hard cock pressed against his leg, Jared settled for rolling his hips, the fabric of his trousers providing all the stimulation Jensen needed.

With a cry lost against Jared's lips, Jensen came, shaking until he slumped between Jared and the door.

"So fucking beautiful, aren't you?" Jared felt the words were more a curse than a compliment, and he could not stop the smile reaching his lips when the prince groaned as the fingers inside of him were removed.

Still holding Jensen upright by the arm around his leg, Jared quickly fumbled with the fastenings of his own clothing, forcing his trousers down to his knees.

He spat on his palm, and used the remains of Jensen's release to slick the head of his dick.

"That was…" Jensen trailed off, head thrown back against the door.

"Does it look like we're done yet?" Jensen's eyes widened, but he stayed perfectly still as Jared hauled him off his feet, one knee hooked over Jared's shoulder, the other wrapped around his back. This time Jared did not even attempt to smoother the cry that left the prince's lips; he simply held his own breath until his cock was seated in Jensen's ass. The door banged in time with Jared pants of breathlessness, Jensen's harsh gasps woven between them, and his arms burned from the effort of holding the prince aloft.

It was just as he had imagined it. In the long, lonely nights on the battlefield, when his need for release pushed aside his hatred, Jared had imagined them like this, he had thought only of Jensen's blazing gaze and his perfect lips. Hips rolled against tight buttocks, and bruises drew deep in the flesh pinned between hands and arms and legs.

Skillfully, Jared made good of his promise. Before too long had passed, Jensen was screaming. And begging. Lips blood red and eyes wet with desperate tears. He had the prince exactly where he should be, utterly at his mercy, totally dependent on Jared for release, for pleasure.

Spurred on by the broken words Jensen uttered like a confession, Jared secured his hold and spun them both around. For once, he cursed the size of Jensen's rooms, his sweaty hold and hobbled gait almost sending them both into an undignified heap.

Finally, they made it to the foot of the enormous bed, and without withdrawing from the prince, Jared let Jensen drop onto the silk bedding.

The more Jared pushed, the more he was convinced that he was the first, the only person to reduce the prince to such levels of incoherency. As he fastened his hands on Jensen's knees, holding him open, Jensen howled and arched, his body tightening almost brutally around Jared as he writhed.

"Fuck!" He could think of nothing more eloquent to say, words of beauty and sensual promise abandoning him with every clench and shake of Jensen's body around him.

Jensen moaned as he knees were pushed wide, long legs splayed across the crimson silk, his head thrown back in abandon.

As he picked up a near brutal pace, Jared could not help but think the Universe had messed things up. Jensen should never have been born royal. He should have been plucked from the crowds, a rare rose in a field of weeds. He belonged like this, on his back, his legs obscenely wide as he gave and received pleasure from someone who knew how to tame him. A thousand years ago, he would have made a courtesan to glorify the most powerful courts.

Jared's large hand was the color of sun-darkened toffee, exotically dark next to Jensen's winter white skin. He knew that nobility considered dark skin a sign of coarseness and in his limited dealings with various courts, Jared had always though a good suntan would suit them all. Jensen, in his own special way, looked perfect in his paleness. Curiously, Jared spread his fingers wide across Jensen's skin, marveling how his hands could wrap around his lover, an ankle, a hip, a wrist. Jensen's throat.

Over the years, he had lost count of the number of times he had killed Jensen in his dreams. More often than he cared to remember, he had wrapped his hands around Jensen's lovely neck and squeezed and squeezed until there was nothing but betrayal left between them.

Now, in the flesh, in reality, Jensen's eyes grew impossibly wide, the feel of Jared's hand against his throat, the subtle threat of real danger sharp in the air. Jared drew back, until only the head of his cock remained inside the prince, stretching him past the point of coherent thought. With a wicked grin, Jared snapped his hips forward, his balls slapping Jensen's ass as his fingers closed around the prince's neck.

A silent scream, and Jensen came, and Jared whispered the word he had taunted the prince with earlier. "Whore." He purred. "My beautiful whore. God, you feel so fucking good, so perfect, could keep you like this forever.

Jensen writhed, helpless to resist the furious pounding of Jared's hips against him, his eyes fluttering closed as sharp teeth returned to his neck, and Jared buried his cry of release against raw red skin.

________________________________________



Jared grinned down at his handiwork and admired the smooth curves and long lines laid out below him. His prince looked half-asleep, sated where he was sprawled across the foot of the bed. It was impossible to resist trailing his fingers down the line of Jensen's spine, nor to dip them between the shadowy valleys of his buttocks and feel the wetness there.

"Not tired are you?" He teased when Jensen groaned at the touch.

"Not at all." Even half asleep, the prince mastered the art of wry stoicism.

"Good." Jared declared simply. He swung himself up onto the high bed and pushed Jensen's thighs apart until muscles trembled. His cock had slowly hardened with the proper motivation. Taking himself in hand, he jerked his fist twice, and pressed three fingers past the swollen muscle of Jensen's ass. "Because we aren't nearly finished yet."

________________________________________



Dawn broke only an hour after Jared had finally relented. Jensen had succumbed to sleep after only moments of peace, pliant and supple as Jared deftly cleaned away the worst traces of their passions.

As the sun began to stream into the large room, white stone and silver filigree gleaming, Jared had slid between the covers of Jensen's bed…their bed, and curled himself possessively around the warm body besides his. Sleepily, Jensen opened one eye and sighed at the sight of the morning light.

"Where do you think you are going?" Jared asked, his own voice catching on a yawn as he absently carded his fingers through Jensen's tangled hair. He had worn the prince past the point of exhaustion, playing the responses from his body as a master musician would draw notes from an instrument.

"S'morning. Jensen muttered. "Have work to do." Despite his claim, he buried himself deeper in Jared's embrace, eyes hidden from the sun in the curve of an arm. Jared snorted his disgust, further tangling Jensen within the sheets and his arms.

His teeth nipped the tip of Jensen's ear; Jared's fingers drifting to places that made him gasp and squirm. "The world won't end if you spend an extra hour in bed, lover." The gently whispered endearment left his lips before he could stifle it. Against his arm, Jared felt Jensen's lips twist into a smile.

Lover . They were lovers once again. So long as Jared kept the term a sexual variant of love, he decided to allow himself the indulgence. Clinging to the affection, Jensen said nothing on the matter, and within minutes, his soft, steady breathing lulled them both into slumber.

________________________________________



After a week in which they did little more than make love and wander the grounds around the castle, Jensen returned to his duties as Crown Prince, and Jared claimed homesickness. The admission of missing his parents was a bitter truth, and Jensen's honest look of concern only made his sorrow harder to bear.

"I'm sorry they couldn't attend the ceremony." Jensen soothed him one morning, as long fingers tenderly stroked his neck. "I know you missed them." He said, laboring under the false conclusion that Jared had tried his hardest to arrange the ceremonies for a time to suit his preoccupied parents. The truth could not have been further from the case, and Jensen's well-meaning attempts to delay the proceedings had caused Jared more headaches than less.

Mustering his most indulgent smile, Jared pressed a light kiss to his prince's hairline. "Don't worry yourself." He kissed away the frown on Jensen's lips. After their first night together, he had worried that his ardor had pushed Jensen too far, too fast, and was careful to insure that tenderness remained a key feature of their relationship.

It was no real hardship.

"I know but-" Jared stilled the words with a press of his fingers against Jensen's lips.

"Really," He smiled. "A few days to assuage my homesickness, I'll be wishing I was an only child, and remembering exactly why I was happy to leave in the first place."

Somewhat mollified, Jensen relaxed. Then, curious, he asked, "What is it like to have siblings? I wouldn't know, being an only child, but I've always wondered…" his words trailed off wistfully, quickly overborne by the gentle sound of Jared's little Molly singing lullabies. The lilting words turned to screams in Jared's head, and his fingernails drew blood from Jensen's arm.

The prince hissed and jerked free of Jared's grasp. "Sorry I asked." He said darkly, eyeing the small wounds critically. Instantly ashamed, Jared apologized with a kiss.

"They make me angry, most of the time." Jared said sheepishly, his thumb soothing the red half-moons in Jensen's pale arm.

"And you are that desperate to see them?" Jensen's forehead was furrowed as he tried to make sense of the illogical statements, and Jared could not help but chuckle.

"Such is the joy of family," He smiled, "for every gram of hate, there is a kilo of love. Don't you feel the same way about Christian?" The cousins' relationship confused Jared, and he latched on to a chance to discover more about the dark and brooding Lord Kane.

A look of supreme fondness filled Jensen's features. "I don't think I have ever hated Christian." He admitted, absently tracing the lines between Jared's fingers with the tips of his own.

Dark eyebrows tipped together in confusion. "Never?"

Jensen's eyes grew shadowed, but he changed the conversation with a gentle kiss, and Jared knew well enough to let it drop.

________________________________________



A month later, and Jared found himself beginning to resent his obligations, especially when they put him at odds with his new found contentment. Every day he saw the desire in Jensen to rile against his father's laws. In the hours between dusk and dawn, then they lay sticky and sated together, Jensen spoke passionately about the world and politics, and Jared's conflicted mind played hell with his duty.

Where he once would have given Jensen the stars, Jensen would now give him the world. Every day spent together was one more for the line to blur in Jared's head, and one more excuse to delay the moment of no return.

Away from the guidance of his peers, Jared began to imagine a world where he and Jensen righted all the wrongs together, hand in hand.

The prince's body trembled against his, Jensen's quiet moans lost into the cradle of his arms. Denied the sight of Jensen's beautiful face, Jared instead watched them together, transfixed by the sinfully obscene sight of his hard, spit shinny cock piercing the swollen red flesh of Jensen's ass. He held one trembling thigh aloft, pressed the other to the firm mattress below, and leisurely rolled his hips in time with his steady heartbeat.

"Please…" There was no sound more beautiful to Jared's ears than the whispered pleas he could draw from his prince's lips. "Please, Tristan…"

Jared's hips stilled their rhythm, his heart with them. He's almost managed to block out the sound of that hated name whenever Jensen spoke to him.

Suddenly what had begun as a slow, sweet Sunday fuck became bitter, as twisted as his own heart. He wasn't making love to Jensen. They weren't having sex. This wasn't a benefit of his position.

He was fucking Jensen because the faster he wore the prince out, the faster the drug Jared had slipped him would work.

His eyes burned and his hands trembled..

He'd come so far, sacrificed so much, only to fail at the final hurdle, to lose himself in Jensen's eyes.

The prince moaned in discontent as Jared drew out of him and scrambled off the bed. That moan became a startled yelp when Jared seized his ankles and dragged him down the bed.

Quickly as he could, he folded Jensen over the foot of the bed until feet braced against the hard floor. A thumb, then Jared's tongue swiped over Jensen's glistening hole. For all his sexual experience, Jared had never tasted a lover that way before. The sharp yelp it triggered made him smile darkly and lap at the raw skin. Jensen shuddered and came apart at the seams, unconscious before Jared had crawled back along the bed.

His own cock throbbed painfully against his belly, but Jared ignored it, the discomfort justified. He pulled Jensen close and closed his eyes, pretending that when they awoke, they'd be just Jared and Jensen again, two boys in love.

________________________________________



Instinct had Jared lashing out in his sleep, his hand grasping Mike's a mere inch from Jensen's face.

"Don't touch him." Jared whispered fiercely, too apprehensive of Jensen waking to trust blindly to the drugs Chad had provided.

Mike tipped his head and drew back his hand. His eyes however, roamed across both Jensen and Jared, and his poorly concealed smirk made it plain his imagination was in overdrive.

Annoyed with himself, and Mike, Jared realized he was naked under the sheets, with Jensen carefully wrapped in his arms. He untangled himself and shamelessly stalked across the room in search of suitable clothing.

Mike remained by the bed, studying Jensen like a specimen in his laboratory. "How does it feel to be balls deep in the most powerful man in the world?" Mike asked.

Jared grunted noncommittally in response, tugging boots over the bridges of his feet. "Hurry up." He said, trying to steer the conversation away from Jensen. "We have work to do."

Read the next story Hamartia by SplashPink