Not the One

Not the One, Part Five

Warnings: Non consensual sex. Jonathan is drunk, and Jamey takes advantage.Notes: This is an alternate storyline for my Dracula slash, Child of the Night. It has no impact on the main story.Not the One by ScribePart Five
Taken, Not GivenA sliver of moonlightpt tpt through the curtains, barely illuminating Jamey Roswell's room with a pale silver glow. In that light the boy lying beside him looked almost ethereal, but Jamey had his hand in Jonathan's hair, stroking his fingers slowly through the soft, dark mass, and he knew very well that Jonathan Harker was solid flesh.

"Jonathan?" Jamey whispered. Jonathan made a tiny motion of his head, indicating that he was listening. "Jonathan, do you remember your sixteenth birthday?"

A small smile, those beautiful lips curving just a touch. "'f course," the voice was slightly blurred. "Just last year."

"Just a few months ago, really. What do you remember about it?"

Jonathan sighed softly, dark brows pulling down slightly as he thought. "I had a party... supper party, like a grownup. Never had a child's party, straight to grownup. Father didn't want to bother."

"Your father's a toad, Jon." Jonathan's smile grew, so Jamey continued, "A great, squatty, knotty green one." Jonathan bit his lips. "I'm surprised you aren't all over warts." Jonathan finally laughed, and Jamey smiled in triumph. Make them laugh, and they're half yours. "It was quite a pleasant little to-do, Jonathan. You're a good host, though you did have to be nudged in the right direction with the games. You remember the games?"

"Um, Packing My Trunk, Gossip..." His lips twitch. He was fighting back another smile. "That tickles, when someone whispers in your ear. You almost have to laugh."

Jamey leaned down and whispered in Jonathan's ear, "And what did we play after that, Jon?" Jonathan did giggle, his shoulder rising to push Jamey away, but Jamey was persistent, holding the shoulder down, his lips grazing Jonathan's ear. "Come on, now. You remember."

"Spin the Bottle. That one girl--Cassie, was it? She was so scandalized."

"What happened during that game?"

Jonathan fell silent, going very still. His eyes slitted open just a crack, then shut tight as he tried to roll on his side, away from Jamey. "Sleepy now."

"No you don't, m'lad!" Jamey gripped Jonathan's shoulders firmly, pinning him to the mattress. "What happened? Do you remember?" Jonathan opened his eyes slowly and regarded Jamey warily. "Oh, yes," Jamey breathed, "Yes, you remember." He cocked his head. "You've tried to forget, haven't you? You would, but you haven't been able to." Jamey leaned a fraction of an inch closer. "I haven't been able to forget either, Jonathan."

He kept his left hand on Jonathan's shoulder, but he lifted his right, and touched the other boy's face, rubbing his thumb over one high cheekbone. "I thought about you all summer, you know. I kept remembering what it was like there in that hallway--dim, warm, and close--because it was so narrow. And the scents... Do you know that smell makes up a great deal of memory? It's fixed in my mind. There was a hint of cabbage from the sprouts that were served at dinner... Oh, just a very small trace--Llewellyn need not be shamed--it's almost impossible to cover up. There was, mmm, lemon and beeswax, because I expect she'd had your scully scrubbing and polishing all day."

"We don't have a scully," Jonathan said faintly. "A girl comes in twice a week."

Jamey's hand moved, and he tapped Jonathan on the nose in playful admonishment, making the younger boy blink owlishly. "You're trying to evade the subject. There was a floral scent. God, that Cassie twit had drenched herself in violet water. And you. There was soap, and... bay rum." He smiled, and his finger stroked down Jonathan's cheek. "You'd shaved, but I don't think you needed to. You scarcely do now. Soap, bay rum, and something else--warm and musky. Do you know what it was, Jonathan? It was... just you. Your very own scent. I told you that I'd been wanting to kiss you for a long time, Jonathan. That's true again."

"Jamey," Jonathan whispered, "that was a game."

Jamey nodded. "Mm, yes--a sweet game. And it was fun, wasn't it?" His hand slid down Jonathan's throat. "I think there are many games you haven't played. I can teach you."

"I..." Jonathan shook his head. "No, Jamey. It wasn't right."

"Jon," Jamey's voice was mildly scolding. "Really, you must overcome this middle class prejudice. You're going to have to deal with all sorts in your life, you know. There's nothing wrong with it, as long as no one is hurt."

"Jamey, I meant... I... I don't love you."

Jamey sighed, smiling. "Oh, you poor, sweet little innocent. I like you, Jonathan, but this isn't love I'm offering you--it's desire. There's nothing wrong with that."

"But there is."

"Honestly, Jon!" Jamey moved. Jonathan made a soft sound of surprised distress as his friend flipped down the covers, then half covered him with his own body. Jamey lay, pressing his upper body to Jonathan's, pinning him even more firmly. "Look, aside from making marriage contracts and babies, union with a woman offers no great advantages or virtues. If you want cooking and cleaning you can hire a maid for far less than it would cost to keep a wife, and take your pleasure where you will."

"No, it isn't right, Jamey. I'm not saying it isn't right for you. I... your nature is more... more..." Jamey cocked an eyebrow sardonically. "Open. Generous?"

Jamey smiled. "Yes, I like that word--generous."

"But it isn't right for me. There's someone... I belong to them. It wouldn't be right for me to be with anyone else."

"Ew!" Jamey made a face and singsonged, "Miiiiiiiina!"

"No."

Now Jamey was surprised. "No? Not little Miss Murray? Then who?"

"No one you know."

Jamey shook Jonathan's shoulders. "Come on, give. Tell me, Jon." He gave the other boy a sly look. "Tell me, and we'll consider this ended. Satisfy my curiosity and you can sleep the sleep of the innocent once again."

"I can't tell you. I... I don't know myself."

"What?? Oh, bloody hell, Jon! Do you mean to tell me that you're saving yourself for your One True Love?"

"Yes." Jonathan's chin lifted.

"Oh, that's just... just..." Jamey was shaking. He burst out laughing. "Oh, that is so bloody precious! You know, I half expected that you'd found someone to pluck your cherry this summer--if not Miss Mina, then some sturdy country squire might've tumbled you in a haymow." His smile faded a little, his expression becoming more intent. "I'm ever so pleased I was wrong."

"I think I should go to my own room now."

"What? After a revelation like that? Oh, no, no. You'll stay right here, laddie buck. I have so much to teach you."

Jonathan gasped. "Jamey, you said you'd stop if I told you."

"IF you told me who you loved. But even you don't know, so I'm afraid that the renders the whole agreement moot. I feel no obligation to turn you loose. Give us a kiss, Harker."

"I don't want..." Jamey swooped down, pressing his mouth over Jonathan's parted lips, and his tongue flicked quickly inside. Jonathan tried to pull back, but that just forced his head deeper into the pillow, and Jamey followed him down, never giving a fraction. The only other time in his life Jonathan had ever experienced anything even remotely like it had been that birthday kiss--and it had the same effect.

His senses swam with confusion, but a bolt of sensation seemed to spear from his mouth down through his body. He could feel his nipples drawing up into tight, hard points. Heat pooled in his groin, and he could feel his pulse throbbing there. When Jamey lifted his head, Jonathan gasped, "Stop it, Jamey! I told you I didn't want to."

"Tsk, tsk, Harker--and you're usually so honest." Jamey lifted slightly, and Jonathan tried to push his hands away when he felt the older boy working the buttons on the front of his nightshirt. Jamey chuckled, and somehow the sound wasn't as good-natured as his usual laughter. "Stop it, Jon. You're far too drunk to put any real obstacles in my way." The shirt was open almost to his waist now. Jamey's hands slipped inside, nimble fingers finding the thrusting copper peaks. He pinched lightly, rubbing his thumbs over the suddenly sensitive tips, and Jonathan found himself arching up into the touch. "And you're far too randy to pretend you're not enjoying this." Jamey bent, and Jonathan moaned in surprise and pleasure as he engulfed his right nipple and sucked strongly, flicking his tongue. Jamey used the weight of his body to keep Jonathan pinned to the mattress, because his friend was still squirming weakly. The darling idiot doesn't know what he really wants. It's my duty to show him.
Jonathan's squirming had rucked his nightshirt up his thighs. Jamey pushed it up, over his hips. He pulled back a little, wanting a good look at his prize. It was one of the most er sig sights Jamey had ever seen. Jonathan was sprawled, loose limbed, the alcohol fogging his sensibilities preventing him from tensing, no matter how distressed he was. His body almost gleamed in the moonlight that filtered through the window. Jonathan's hair and eyes, his nipples and his pubic thatch, were like shadows against the pale perfection of his skin. And his cock... Jamey sighed in pleased admiration. It arched slightly, already firming.

But while he was admiring, Jonathan took the chance to try to escape. He made a clumsy effort to role away, but Jamey easily pushed him back. "You're not going anywhere now, Jon--not until we've both had a bit of fun."

"Jamey, truly, I can't do this."

"You don't have to do anything tonight, little boy. Just lie back and let Jamey take care of you." Jamey wrapped his hand around Jonathan's prick, squeezing and stroking. Jonathan groaned, eyes closing. Jamey could feel the immediate thickening, and he laughed again. "You can't lie about this, not to me."

With his free hand, Jamey impatiently lifted his own nightshirt. He was aroused, his cock rigid and eager. He was tempted to simply jerk Jonathan's legs wide, lifting his feet up to his shoulder, spit in his hand, slick his cock, and fuck the boy senseless. But no, Jamey. As much fun as that would be, it would hurt the little darling--body and feelings. He'd run far and fast, and, damn it, once isn't going to be enough with him. I must treat him tenderly.

Jamey pushed Jonathan's thighs apart and settled himself between them, reaching between their bodies to bring their erections together. Then he embraced Jonathan tightly, kissed him again, and began to thrust against him.

"Jamey, please!" His words were muffled by Jamey's mouth pressing to his own. Jonathan tried to shove the other boy off him, but his arms were caught at his side. His head was spinning, and his body didn't seem to want to obey him.

He arched, trying to buck Jamey off, but it had an unlooked for effect. It slid his cock against Jamey's as they were pressed between their bodies. Jamey's head jerked up, and he stared down at Jonathan with eyes gone dark with passion. "God, yes, Jon!" He began to move more quickly, his cock painting warm, slick smears on Jonathan's belly.

Jonathan felt his testicles drawing up to his body, tight and heavy, and then--it was happening. Jonathan had never touched himself to the point of orgasm. By the time he'd reached the age when his body was awakening, he was living closely with other boys, and there was never any privacy. The incidents where he'd awakened after a troubled sleep to find his sheets damp and sticky had caused him horrific embarrassment.

The other boys had teased him unmercifully, asking who his sweetheart had been in his dreams. He couldn't explain that he had no clear memory. It was all fragments and sensations. But... But he had somehow known, even at the beginning, that his dream lover was not a woman. No, the hands that caressed him had been too large, too strong. The body pressing down on him had been big, and hard... and it had been on him. He had never dreamed of himself in the superior position, and somehow it had seemed right--natural. But now... Now it seemed to be happening, and it was all wrong. It was wrong because Jamey was not the one he was meant to be with. Though he couldn't really voice this belief, he felt it on a soul deep level, and the way his body was responding to this unlooked for, unasked for lover both shocked and saddened him.

But he had little time to reflect, because he was experiencing his first fully aware orgasm. He cried out, clutching instinctively at Jamey as his seed jetted out, slicking their bellies. Jamey went still, holding the younger boy as he shuddered, hips jerking, smugly watching the emotions flitting across Jonathan's face. The pleasure was clear, but so was the distress. "There, now," he crooned. "Wasn't that nice? Mmm..." He rubbed his face against Jonathan's chest, again nipping at the still firm nipples. "You're so lovely and responsive, Jon."

"Can I go now?" Jonathan's voice was faint.

"Go now? Utter rubbish, boy. We're far from finished here." Jonathan's eyes flew wide, and Jamey sighed. He took Jonathan's hand and moved it down between their bodies, forming his fingers around his thickened flesh. "Oh, I suppose this will do for now." Jonathan was frozen. Jamey poked him, almost playfully--almost. "Don't just hold it, as if it's... it's a beanbag." Jamey's laughter was thick with lust. "Oh, lord, it doesn't even know the proper way to diddle." He closed his hand around Jonathan's and guided it in stroking. "Like that. Um, yes, you have smooth hands. Faster now, Jon, and squeeze a little. Uhh. Rub over the head, that feel goo good."

The hormones and adrenaline that had flooded Jonathan were mingling with the unaccustomed alcohol haze. He felt as if he would lose consciousness at any moment, and Jamey just wouldn't stop, he wouldn't listen. I don't understand. He's my friend, isn't he? Why doesn't he realize I don't want to do this? I'll just have to... to make him spurt. It'll be over then, and he'll leave me alone.

Jonathan, face turned away, followed Jamey's hot, whispered directions, caressing oth other boy with increasing speed and firmness. Finally Jamey roughly turned Jonathan's head back and kissed him hard, thrusting his tongue deep, as his seed coated Jonathan's hand. After a few more jerks of his hips, he relaxed on top of Jonathan with a quiet murmur. "Oh, what a sweet, sweet thing he is. So good."

Jamey moved off Jonathan, but before the younger boy could move away, Jamey put his arms around him, snugging him up against his side. "You've earned yourself a bit of a nap, sweetheart." He pushed Jonathan's head down on his shoulder, holding it there till he was sure that the boy wouldn't move, then he drifted off to sleep himself.

Jonathan lay, staring into the dark. This was so alien, lying tucked against another warm, sweaty male body, feeling boneless with the lassitude that followed sexual satiation. But there was something familiar about it, too.

This is crazy. It must be the drink giving me these ideas, because I've never shared a bed with another, not even when I first came to school. But... but it's like my body remembers this feeling, even if my mind cannot. Something exactly like this.

He closed his eyes, and a tear slipped down his cheek. No, not exactly like. Those other times... Oh, God, if there were other times, they were different, becuase I was with who I was meant to be with--not this one. Not Jamey.