A Trip To Frozen Hell. [Finished]

[Anonymous]

This was it. There was something seriously wrong with this man. Sadistic. Masochistic. Posessive. Could turn into a huge wolf-thing. Jaks turned his head away for a moment, face contorted in pain, his eyes wet but that ended quickly when they widened as he saw S'ric lick the blade free of blood, saw the shallow cut on his tongue. And not care. At all. His eyebrows drew upward and he gave a quiet gasp and another loud cry of pain when he was dragged down the furs, the skin on his back ripping further from the friction.

The elf didn't care about the position, in fact, Jaks currently saw it as a means of distraction, his back stung horribly so he arched up taking pressure off the fresh wound on his back. While Jaks didn't handle the pain well, he could take quite a bit of it before his brain overloaded and he'd pass out. All those previous nights of rape and sex was him sleeping from exhaustion, not because the pain got so unbearable his brain shut down and he slept.

He looked up, breath coming out quickly, he kept his legs around S'ric as leverage to keep his back off the furs. Jaks licked his lips, and that turned into a sharp cry when his arms were held above his head. Not good. Jaks gave a few worried breaths before he looked down, his cheeks heated but Jaks arched furthe, using his shoulders to further arch himself upwards. Jaks wrapped his legs around S'rics waist and ground them together, his eyes closed and his head turned away, exposing the earlier bite marks which were bruising and red.

The elf didn't wiggle so much as grind and move his hips, the wound at his back didn't to much more than throb painfully with his back arched up, but his shoulders were starting to hurt, and his mouth hurt, and his tongue was still bleeding which was evident with the little bead of blood sliding down the side of his face while he tried to distract S'ric from his obviously intended carving.

[Anonymous]

S'ric had been so intent on trying to figure out what he wanted to do next with the blade, he practically ignored the way Jaks what moving. Usually, he'd have his full attention on a wiggling Jaks. But with the knife, there were other things to consider. Like where he wanted to cut next, how he wanted to cut... His chest? Maybe the sides, as they were so very sensitive.

Oh.

S'ric's mind reeled as he felt Jaks' legs tighten around him, but that wasn't what made him pause. Or suck in a sharp breath. No, that was contributed to the fact that Jaks essentially impaled himself. On S'ric. It caught him so off guard the werewolf growled, but in an overly pleased way. It wasn't often he was caught unaware. And even rarer were the times such an event led to a very pleased S'ric. But this one did. And while Jaks didn't have the ability to move too much considering he was holding his lower back off the fur, S'ric was not impaired. With a groan, his hips bucked forward. With enough force to slide Jaks' shoulders on the fur. While S'ric would've went most of the night without taking Jaks this way, he was not about to stop now.

S'ric's gaze slid up Jaks' chest, flickering to his face... and locked in on the trail of blood from his mouth. Want dictated his actions. S'ric leaned back until he was actually sitting, altering the placement of his hands so that he pulled Jaks up with him, effectively sitting Jaks up. Once they were both upright, the hand not holding the knife gripped Jaks' neck and pulled him close. Slowly, as though he were not buried completely in his elf, or Jaks wasn't bleeding enough to fill the room with the intoxicating aroma, he slowly licked away the blood trail that had come from Jaks' mouth. Logic then told S'ric that where the small amount of blood had come from would have more. Never one to usually kiss, that did not mean S'ric didn't know how. But where most were rather timid going into a kiss if they'd never kissed that person before, S'ric did not. His lips were pressed aggressively to Jaks, but that's not what he wanted. With a simple tilt of his head, his tongue pushed past Jaks' lips, demanding access. He could taste the blood from where his elf had bit himself, and he wanted more.

The hand holding the knife was momentarily holding Jaks' ass, occasionally lifting him so Jaks' weight could force him back down on S'ric.  The blade was, for the briefest of moments, forgotten.

[Anonymous]

Breath hitched when S'ric bucked forward and sent Jaks shoulders up the fur and Jaks legs went tighter, hoping to keep S'ric from moving too much to keep the moving down. This was it, right? Jaks got him finished in this area and S'ric would be happy and warm and content and he'd finally fuck off and leave the little elf in peace. Please. Jaks chest heaved and his face was pale, the elf was far from aroused and the movement from laying to sitting up made him cry out and squeeze his legs tighter, eyes closed.

This pain was far more wanted than the knife. Jaks could deal with this pain, he'd gotten used to this pain.

The tongue to his face made his eyes snap open, drawing back slightly, grossed out. It was one thing to watch someone lick a blade free of blood, it was another to feel a tongue on his face. Jaks winced and then jerked back when S'ric pressed his lips to his. This wasn't going right! What was he doing? S'ric wasn't supposed to... Gross...

Jaks had to keep himself from gagging when the tongue was forced into his mouth, it was one thing for a quick peck on the lips, it was another to have a slimy muscle that belonged to someone else shoved in his mouth. It took him a moment for him to calm down, to move his legs, to move his head.

It hurt. It was horrible. The blade was worse.

In a vain attempt to keep S'ric distracted, Jaks moved, he pressed his tongue against S'rics, moved his hips, and made as many throaty noises as he could. More than half of them were caused from real pain, whether it was from the cut in his mouth being moved or him pushing down onto the werewolf. There was no pleasure to be had here, never was and very likely never would be. Mind was reeling, but he wasn't driven by instincts like S'ric was, he would think of a way to get out this without getting anymore cuts. Or at least tire himself out so he would be a limp body to occasionally twitch and stare at a wall for the remainder of the night.

Both worked for the elf, though the one without any knives at all seemed far more appealing.

[Anonymous]

Between the taste of Jaks, the blood, the rather sweet way his elf was being moved.... Even S'ric had his limits. There was no part of him that wanted to pull away, his mind locked in the wonderful dance between the blood in Jaks' mouth, and the quick, building rush throughout his body. He was actually so wrapped up that he blade, and even the wound in Jaks' back, was forgotten. A first, considering no one had ever thought to play the werewolf's game. Though the kiss was completely invasive, there was no pain associated with it. The want for blood overrode that, slowing down his exploration of Jaks' mouth to something more thorough, less rushed. Even if his hand gripped Jaks' ass harder and moved him faster. It was an automatic response at this point. The screams before hand had made him more excited than most foreplay could, coupled with the taste of blood...

There was no surprise then that S'ric growled and pulled Jaks down hard, once, twice, before holding him in place. He broke the kiss to actually get a breath of air. Another first, S'ric seemed relatively out of breath. With little ceremony, S'ric released Jaks so he could lay back, wrapped in the calming after effects of his orgasm. His eyes were partially closed, gaze glazed over with hazy satisfaction.

It was several moments before rational thought returned to the werewolf, causing him to watch Jaks. How'd they gotten to an upright position? Why wasn't Jaks more cut up...? Apparently, he'd gotten a little ahead of himself. Blood did that though. S'ric smiled a little as he closed his eyes. Accepting, for the moment, that the point had been delivered... and since he was very content, there was no point in continuing. Unless Jaks did something snappish that warranted it. With the mixed taste of his and Jaks blood, S'ric simply lay on the mussed fur and absently watched Jaks, almost like he wasn't fully aware he was doing so.

[Anonymous]

Sick satisfaction rushed through his veins.

Chest was heaving, but at the back of his mind, behind his green eyes Jaks was full of sick satisfaction. Jaks had kissed back, rolled his hips, thrust down as hard as he could in hope of getting this reaction. Of course, all his mewls of pain had been real, this victory wasn't pain free, he could feel the ache of it on his thighs, his back, between his legs. But even if it was a small victory, it was still a victory.

Jaks would savour it.

After S'ric had broken off the kiss to take a breath, leaving Jaks dazed and gasping for his own breath wincing and moving slightly, his hands moving down to his thighs rubbing his palms over them as he trembled. Sweat made his hair stick to his forehead and neck, the tips of his hair dried together from the blood.

Jaks stayed still for a moment, unmoving, still sitting on S'ric, afraid of moving, his shoulders were shaking and his breath was coming out in shuddering gasps before he figuered S'ric was either passed out or just dazed, the smile worried him a little but it wasn't until that was done and S'ric was watching him.

As much as he didn't really feel like moving, Jaks rose up on his knees, giving a small whimper of pain as he lifted himself off of S'ric before he moved his leg to one side, still facing S'ric. Not wanting to show him the cut, the wound he'd made. Jaks left it, and all he did was quietly turn so he was facing S'ric and he curled up again, shaking his knees tucked up even though it hurt his back.

It wasn't a peaceful sleep, he woke up with every twitch and movement that wasn't his own. At some point during his sleep he'd rolled onto his back and gave a cry of pain and woke himself up, but after that, laying on his back Jaks got a decent sleep. He would savour this small victory, even if he could already feel how horrible moving would be in the morning.

[Anonymous]

S'ric fell asleep soon after Jaks did, but faded in and out of real sleep since Jaks kept whimpering. He jerked fully awake when his elf had rolled on his back and screamed with real pain. He mulled over whether he'd get up or not, but he was still feeling rather.... sated... so he remained in place. Long enough to drift off again. The second bout of sleep didn't last as long, but was just as refreshing. S'ric stretched and rolled on his knees. The whole cabin still smelt of blood, sweat, and sex. He found the blade still where he'd discarded it. Which reminded him.... S'ric grabbed the bloodied one then made his way to the fire, almost lazily pulling the other one from it. Even though it sizzled the skin on his palm. He set it on the stone still a part of the fireplace, but where it would actually cool.

From there, S'ric then went about doing the small, menial task of cleaning up after the night. He dressed himself, filled the tub, then pulled a stretch of cloth to be used as a bandage and a brush out of the cabinet. Things that had been left over from previous occupants. Once all that had been taken care of, S'ric crawled back on the fur, noting where it had dried blood with a small smile, before leaning close and lightly nipping at his neck. "Wake up, Jaks."

[Anonymous]

S'ric shifting woke Jaks up, but he was careful not to start freaking out.

When S'ric got up, Jaks watched with mild interest. Watched him grab the knife, wincing at the meer sight of it, before he watched S'ric go to the fire and pull one out of there. Jaks could hear his flesh sizzle, and he stared, eyes wide for a moment. No. There was no way. Jaks heart skipped a beat and he was very glad he'd pulled the stunt he did, he didn't want to imagine what that hot blade was for.

Jaks eyes rolled up and his eyelids closed down, it took all his effort not to fall asleep after S'ric got dressed, his eyes were closed but he was listening. Or at least he thought he was. Jaks jerked to the side when S'ric nipped at his neck, his hands drawing up and his eyes wide, crying out again when he twisted wrong and it pulled the scab at his back.

"I'm awake." his voice was thick, his tongue was slightly swollen and it hurt to talk. The elf could feel his victory shatter around him when his cheeks and ears turned red with a blush, not being able to believe what he'd done to keep himself from getting hurt. Still, it was one nasty slice on his back instead of many like Jaks figured S'ric originally had planned.

Green eyes were staring at S'rics blue ones, his hands still up slightly defensive. It took a moment for him to calm down, but once he did so Jaks sat up, wincing with pain and moving a hand to his back and one to his mouth to gently probe at his tongue with a finger. "I feel like crap." he spoke around his finger and then gave a humourless chuckle before he let his hands rest between his legs on top of the furs, his head bent forward.

[Anonymous]

S'ric moved back enough to allow Jaks to sit up without running into him, kneeling while his eyes took stock of his elf. Not in the typically predatory way, but as one might inspect someone they thought was more injured then they were letting on.  The werewolf was thorough in his care for his things, which meant making sure Jaks was –actually- fine, despite what he may say. S'ric had favorites in the past who were neglectful of their own health in the hopes it'd make S'ric leave them alone. Just resulted in him cleaning them, bandaging, and then force feeding them. None of it was pleasant, but S'ric didn't –care- so long as they were physically ok. They could whine, cry, and yell all they liked.

He was usually a good judge of when he'd reached someone's limit, but he'd been proved wrong before. S'ric would rather take the time to clean up Jaks appropriately, and bandage the cut, then have to nurse a sick elf back to health. With a critical eye, he shifted so he could look at the knife would on Jaks' back. The cut had been shallow, or shallow for what he usually did. The force of pulling the knife from his body had bruised him a little, in addition to the rather long cut. It had stopped bleeding, but it was dirty. Needed cleaned, much like the rest of Jaks. "You need to get in the water while it's still hot," S'ric said then, not leaving it up for discussion. "And you'll need to eat today. If you can't stomach any of the dried food here, I'll go get something fresh. And there should be stuff to mix into a soup if that will be easier." His fingers traced around the wound, recalling with what passed for fondness how Jaks had screamed. Twice. Finding that seemed to be his only injury. Only when he was satisfied did S'ric add, "You'll need to sort through your things. We're leaving in the morning. Preferably narrow it down to something you can carry."   He hated having to haul supplies anywhere, since it was easier for him to just... live off the land. Luckily, past favorites had managed to convince the werewolf they still needed some essentials, and they could not just... run across the countryside like he did. At least he, now, he was realistic in his expectations when traveling. Jaks would slow him down, hopefully not too much. Not that he was the sort to rush, he just liked to keep a rigorous pace.

[Anonymous]

With effort the elf kept his head turned away, his hair hiding his face from the werewolf and his eyes were half closed. Two places hurt. One was a dull ache he was used to by now - he'd been waking up with it since he'd gotten here - the other was a sharp sting, which resulted in Jaks making little hisses of pain when S'ric circled the wound with a finger.

A bath? S'ric made him a bath.

Damn evil, evil man. He'd cut him up and then he made him a warm bath. Jaks could feel an eyebrow twitch. What was wrong with him? One second he wanted to cut Jaks into ribbons and the next he was giving him a warm bath in the frozen tundra after a horrible night that involved a lot of blood and sweat.

Telling him to eat.

Jaks was very confused. One second S'ric is all over him like a rabid wolf in heat, the next he was telling him to eat, to bathe, to pack because they were going. Wait, what? Jaks blinked before he looked at his cases of clothing. His mind went over a few articles of clothing that he'd get before Jaks remembered. There was a hot bath.

The elf gave S'ric a nod before he moved forward, getting onto his hands and knees with a quiet grunt before he stood up, back to the werewolf. His legs trembled and his hands shook, but Jaks walked to the tub, one slow step after the other. Teeth were held together and his shoulders were tense as he walked, it hurt, his legs hurt, his hips hurt.

Once he got to the tub though, it was another story.

Who knew water could make stuff sting?

The cut on his back screamed at him when it was submerged in the water, and every other nick and cut he'd gained the day he tried to run away. Jaks didn't even want to focus on any other pain on his body, so he simple kept his teeth tightly clenched, his knuckles white where they grasped at the edge of the tub. Tipping his head back, Jaks dunked his head and sunk as low as he could go in it, but instead of resurfacing he screamed as loud as he could. The bubbles from his scream, which S'ric could probably hear anyway, broke the surface and Jaks sat back up, looking absolutely miserable.

He could take it though. Jaks gave S'ric a dirty look before he closed his eyes and leaned against the tub. Jaks was going to stay in here until S'ric either pulled him out, or barked at him for staying in so long. "I'll eat whatever, later... I'm... Not hungry." his voice had a quiet airy tone to it before he turned his head away and breathed a quiet sigh.

[Anonymous]

S'ric slid from the furs after Jaks did, watching the elf wobble over the tub. The cut didn't really need bangades, but stitches would do him so good. There was quite a rend in the skin. While hypothermia was more likely this far north, he didn't want to risk infection after they started traveling. The werewolf gathered up the fur that was bloodied before stepping outside, tossing them next to the cabin. He'd take them further away next time he shifted. Not like he was concerned with anything picking up his or Jaks' scent. If anything, it'd keep other animals away. Even if part of the smell was blood. What predators lingered around or wandered into S'ric's territory either knew to run away from the scent of the werewolf, or were quickly cut down. He wasn't above eating wolves that wandered into his territory.

After pulling the door shut, he went over to one of the other cabinets, this one bigger than the others in the cabin. Four in all, this one went from the floor and was about as tall as S'ric. Sort of doubled as a closet. One of the cabinets had food stuffs, the other various supplies like the bandages, thread, needle, alcohol, his knives, and the last had some left over possessions of previous occupants. Like the brush. S'ric absently thought there might be soap, some sort of lotion, and ... he couldn't remember. That was one cabinet he didn't pay any attention to. From the largest, he pulled another large fur out to replace the old. He only had one spare, but getting another would be easy. S'ric occasionally took prey into town, giving the meat and bones to a tanner who would clean the fur for him. Easy trade. The man got quite a bit of food he didn't have to pay or hunt for, and S'ric didn't have to clean the hide himself. He tossed the fur with the others that hadn't suffered from the night before, then glanced at Jaks when he heard the bubbles breaking the surface of the water. Seeing the elf sit up made him dismiss the action before grabbing the brush, handing it to Jaks, who then 'informed' S'ric that he was not hungry, and that he would eat later. As S'ric watched him, brush still extended, he clarified, "I didn't ask if you were hungry. A asked what you wanted to eat." He'd shove it down Jaks' throat if need be. "And I'm going to stitch the cut in your back. Should help some when you're moving. And help it heal." He waited for him to take the brush so he could fetch the needle and thread.

[Anonymous]

Jaks grabbed the brush with a quiet snarl and slowly stood up, not bothering to wait until he drip-dried over the tub before he sat down beside it, running the brush through his hair, a puddle slowly forming around his seated self. " Fine. I don't care, I can eat anything as long as it isn't bugs." Stich his back.

Another quiet snarl, of course it paled in comparison to one of S'rics snarls, but it was a grumpy noise all the same. Jaks yanked the brush through his wet hair, his head pulling forward as he brushed it free of tangles violently. The elf pulled his lower lip between his teeth and gave his hair another violent tug with the brush, once he was sure that it was tangle free - Jaks was getting slightly obsessive about his hair in recent days - he stood up and waved the brush towards S'ric.

"I wouldn't need fucking stitches if you didn't cut me!" The hairbrush flew out of his hand towards S'rics feet, on purpose, and Jaks stood there a moment later, his chest heaving from anger, his face and ears red. "What the hell is wrong with you!?" Jaks yelled, obviously at a breaking point after the bout of anger last night and current niceness.

" You cut me and rape me and now you're.. You're... Worried about my cut? About me eating? What the hell does it matter to you if I die, huh?!" Jaks, not having anything else to throw, kept his hands at his sides, fingers clenched so his nails dug into his palm. " You can just go get a new creepy sex-thing and bring them here and do to them exactly what you're doing to me. I hate you! Leave me alone!"

It took a moment for it to sink in, exactly what Jaks had said, but once he realised it, he went pale and his eyes grew wide as he slowly ducked his head and stared at the ground. No. I can't be afraid of him. Not here and not like this. Watch your tongue, Jaks, if you survive this, no more barking, be a good little pet for later. Shit, shit, shit. Jaks lifted his head and slowly took steps backwards, leaving wet foot prints as he went, anticipating a not-so-nice reaction from the large werewolf.

[Anonymous]

" Fine. I don't care, I can eat anything as long as it isn't bugs." S'ric didn't really care about the added 'not bugs' part, but at least Jaks had accepted he was going to eat. Good, good. Made things easier on both of them. While Jaks fought with his hair, S'ric went to the other cabinet and pulled out what dried meat had been stored. He hunted for food, and some of the leftovers were stored. Seeing as how Jaks hadn't been here very long, he'd not had much of an opportunity to restock. Just some basic food stuffs. One of the previous occupants had enjoyed cooking, which meant there were a lot of dried herbs and the like for some sort of soup she'd like to make. S'ric eyed the collection, shrugged, then set a pack of dried meat on the table. He was about to tell Jaks he could go through and get whatever he wanted... until Jaks yelled at him. "I wouldn't need fucking stitches if you didn't cut me!" Which was immediately followed by the elf throwing the brush. And more yelling. "What the hell is wrong with you!? You cut me and rape me and now you're.. You're... Worried about my cut? About me eating? What the hell does it matter to you if I die, huh?! You can just go get a new creepy sex-thing and bring them here and do to them exactly what you're doing to me. I hate you! Leave me alone!"

Which left S'ric standing there, staring at him. Now, of course S'ric actually listened to what Jaks had to say. Which was good. Because otherwise he might've been upset. Except it seemed all of this stemmed from Jaks –still- not understanding. All the anger diffused out of the elf, making S'ric rather amused. These bouts of aggression were very, very interesting. Stimulating, even.

S'ric approached Jaks then, running his hand along the elf's shoulder and up his neck, over a bite. The touch was almost light, what some would construe as affectionate. For S'ric, it was possessive. He'd thought he was being rather clear. Obviously not. He leaned close, brushing his lips against Jaks' jaw before lightly biting his neck. The barest of contact between his teeth and Jaks' skin, before he answered, " I don't want another. I've claimed you, and I want you healthy. Which means your wound needs stitched, and you need to eat." He drew back, looking into Jaks' green eyes. "If you have any more questions, ask now. I'm tired of this confusion."

[Anonymous]

Another unexpected reaction.

S'ric was full of these.

Jaks had taken a few more steps back, turning his head and closing his eyes, getting ready to wince away from a hand flying at his face and then... Nothing. A gentle carress up his shoulder, over the bruised and scabbed over bite wound, Jaks didn't move his head when S'ric leaned in, brushed his lips against his chin, bit him lightly. It made him shiver, and he closed his eyes slightly and shifted closer.

Didn't want another.

Claimed.

Like Jaks was some sort of puppy in a box to be picked up by random people who felt like taking one home.

S'ric wanted him healthy because Jaks belonged to him. Not because he cared. Not because it was for ransom from some nameless family he didn't know about. It was selfish. That worked for Jaks, he was an elf, he was going to live for a really long time, young still, Jaks still hadn't really felt the press of time so the little brown haired man didn't exactly feel like throwing his life on the line to get away from a posessive psycho werewolf.

"Why me?"

He surprised himself when the words left his mouth.

At least S'ric had pretty - if oddly unnerving - eyes. Hard like little clusters of ice, as cold as the tundra. As Jaks stared into S'rics eyes he grew cold and his face got pale, but he didn't take another step back. Jaks felt his hands move to his chest and he shifted away in a lame attempt to hide himself, he turned away and took a breath before he ducked down over to his clothing where he went and pulled on a pair of unripped pants.

Only had two of those ones left, Jaks would have to be careful with these ones. Why me. Jaks hadn't realised he wanted to know, but now that he'd asked it his brain went over the things. He was a pain, and he made S'ric angry, and he tried to run away, he wasn't good in bed, he couldn't really cook other than basic things... He could... Dig holes and... find stuff and draw and play the flute, but S'ric didn't know that.

Why the hell did S'ric want him?

[Anonymous]

S'ric heard the question, and he blinked in response. Wasn't that equally obvious as well? He allowed Jaks to pull away, watching his elf as he pulled on another pair of pants. It was S'ric's opinion that most humans, and elves it seemed, over thought so many things. In a way, Jaks was responsible for S'ric noticing him at all.  S'ric had planned on catching a drink, sticking around long enough anyone who wanted to talk to him could – that being potential employers – then be on his way. If Jaks had never said anything, S'ric would've ignored him. It was the snappy way he'd blamed S'ric for the lack of service... and then demanded he buy him dinner. It was that simple. After which, Jaks hadn't been strong enough to fight off S'ric's interest. And S'ric was rarely interested in anything, so when it was snagged, it was usually for good. Such as now. Faults, flaws, and imperfections is whatever he might've been interested in didn't exist. Rather, they simply became a part of what he was focused on. Traits of something that belonged to him. Jaks tattoo was a characteristic of him, as was the brown hair, unblemished body, and slender stature. If Jaks had been taller, more fleshed out, with a scar or birth mark, they would simply become parts of the whole. It wouldn't change S'ric's desire, as that had stemmed from that initial contact when Jaks, the small elf he was, had snapped at a big werewolf, and then demand he feed him.

What kept S'ric interested was the continued shift from demanding, which made his react, to the submission, which cooled him down. Jaks –responded- to everything he did, whether it was wiggle, scream, cry, or glare. In that regard, S'ric was very simple. It was the personality that defined his interest and held it. S'ric went to the cabinet that held the needle and thread, answering as he walked. "Why you? Because you were the one that stood out." He moved to kneel behind Jaks. "I had thought that was obvious. Now stand still." He didn't wait for a response, he simply threaded the needle and stuck it in the base of the cut, so he could start stitching up the wound. It wasn't too bad, and S'ric was as deft with the needle as he was with any blade. Having to care for wounds on his own over centuries had made him almost a pro at this.

[Anonymous]

The elf hadn't watched S'ric go to a cabinet and got a needle and thread.

So, the needle poking into the fresh recently soaked wound, even after the warning, made Jaks open his mouth and curse loudly. " Godsdammit, S'ric, you could... I don't know. Tell me when you're about to hurt me, Bastard." He said the last word under his breath and bitterly. Turning his head away with slight wincing from the bite on his neck moving, he thought on what S'ric said before the needle jabbed into his fresh wound.

He stood out.

"Well, fuck." Jaks said out loud, thinking back to the first time they met. He'd yelled at S'ric, demanded dinner. Jaks tipped his head back and gave a throaty groan. Stupid. Why hadn't anyone warned him? 'Hey, elfie, we have a psycho who likes picking up people who tell him off, big, white hair, blue eyes, has the personality of a snow man, watch out!.' No warning though, just silence.

Bastards. All of them.

Jaks hands were white knuckled as he clutched at the front of his pants on the thighs. This hurt. But soon enough it was over and Jaks paused before moving his hand up to touch the fresh stitches. He'd have to take them out. Eugh. Jaks kicked at a suit case before he bent down, finding a small pack in which he shoved clothes, two pairs of pants and three shirts before he put on a loose white one for himself.

Fine. S'ric wanted him to eat food, he'd eat the stupid food. If that damned werewolf did anything else freaky today though, Jaks was sure he'd throw it up. Giving a tentative stretch and plucking his white shirt off of his wet chest, he looked to the side. "I... Where's the food? I got clothes for... Whatever the hell it is we're doing." His voice was flat and his eyes were lowered, staring at the ground, not really in the mood to say more than what was needed unless it involved curses, yelling and no sex.

[Anonymous]

S'ric eyed Jaks after he'd yelled. Again. He did that a lot. "Pay more attention to what's going on," was all he had to say about Jaks being unaware. The werewolf couldn't be responsible for his inattentiveness. He waved toward the cabinets. "Help yourself." After which he actually sat at the table and pulled the file over to read more up on just what it was he was going to be doing in Essyrn. The mercenary leader was responsible for all sort of nefarious deeds that Vesd had listed in a rather formal fashion, listing them from petty crimes like looting some small farmers house, to raping some dealer's wife in Zantaric and leaving her children dead. Which explained why said Dealer was offering quite the ransom for the man's death. Thus far, according to Vesd, the Mercenary by the name of Nobem had settled in Essyrn where he was managing a small group of thieves on a section of the city. S'ric had no reason to question the information, or the source. If Vesd had made a habit of being wrong, or shoddy on the details, he would've found someone else.

"We're going to Essyrn," S'ric informed Jaks then picked up the description of Nobem. "There's a man I'm to kill." As though he were talking about the snow outside. This was normal for S'ric... though was usually was normal for him was painful or dangerous for everyone else. Then, as though he realized more needed said, S'ric's cold blue gaze settled on Jaks. He seemed to mull a thought over before setting the sheet of parchment down. "I hope you've learned you lesson when trying to run away," he began, before his tone dropped lower. "This is to be very easy. If you sway me from my hunt, or cost me it...." A growl started then. "We are going to have a problem." He usually liked to wait a little longer when it came to hunting when he had a favorite to take with him, but it'd been awhile. Besides, Jaks had to learn sometime. To add to both the threat and the reminder, S'ric said, "Even if you manage to get away for a night, a day.... I will hunt you down. And when I find you, I'll kill you rather than risk you fleeing again." S'ric could be nice, almost affectionate, given the right mood. But something that belonged to him being taken, or running away, was a way to be dead to him. What interest would be there would be crushed beneath his rage at having been not only bested, since they'd manage to escape, but denied in such an extreme way. If someone stole Jaks, of course that wouldn't be the elf's fault. But if he ran, and actually managed to get any sort of distance away so that S'ric went days without seeing him... Jaks would spend the jist of his life looking over his shoulder because S'ric would find him, eventually, and when he did, Jaks and anyone in the immediate area would see just what sort of damage a 9 foot tall, 2 thousand year old werewolf was capable of.

[Anonymous]

Jaks helped himself.

The elf closed his eyes briefly, his back stinging as water from his bath dripped down his back. He hadn't seen a towel so he drip dried, which meant his hair was getting his shirt wet and see-through and his clothing was sticking to his body. It was annoying. Jaks was picking his clothes off of his wet skin as he wandered around the cabin.  This was probably the first time he did so, oddly enough. The first few days was on egg shells, Jaks hadn't really left the furs except for the basic things, too afraid to piss S'ric off to explore.  Apparently he didn't mind though. Damn. Jaks had found food, he ate it dry, not really sure what else to do with it - like he could cook, he hired people to do that for him - pressing it between his mouth and chewing. Didn't taste too horrible, like dried meat, Jaks then proceeded to swallow.

And nearly choke.

Kill. Just like he was talking to the room.

Jaks thumped his hand against his chest, hitting a bruise and wincing. Damn this guy liked bruising, and hickeys and biting. Jaks just gave S'ric a look, his eyebrows drawing inward, slightly confused. Essyrn. He had a house in Essyrn. Damn horrible sandy place, but in any other condition the artifacts would be ruined. A dark look drew on Jaks face and he ducked his head so that S'ric didn't see it.

Of course that was smooshed to pieces when S'ric proceeded to tell him that if he made a fuss he was going to get killed. Running away, and he'd be killed.

Jaks would have to think very hard before he tried to run away again.  The elf swallowed the food, still standing a good deal away from S'ric. "Possessive Bastard." Jaks whispered before plucking his shirt off of his chest again, once he'd finished eating, he felt a little ill, but that would pass. Pressing a hand to his stomach, Jaks made a funny groaning noise before stretching and licking his lips. It took a few minutes for the wave of neusia to pass but once it did, the elf wandered over to S'ric, slowly, hesitant, he was still here.

Wouldn't kill him while he was here and safe and S'ric could see him.

The elf licked his lips and pushed his hair over his ear, it felt nice for it to be clean, soft against his fingers when he ran his fingers through it. Now... "Uh... S'ric? We're leaving tomorrow morning or...?" Tomorrow morning. That meant a night here, and Jaks knew what nights here meant. His eyebrow twitched and his lips drew into a line on his face, eugh, a whole other night.

[Anonymous]

Having felt like the message was appropriately delivered, S'ric turned his attention to the map that Vasd had included. It was a rough sketch of some city streets, Essyrn in specific, with a marker to show the areas Nobem frequented. This promised to be really easy, so long as a certain elf didn't do anything to get himself in trouble. "If you need anything other than clothes, you will need to get it before tomorrow morning." He paused to glance Jaks, listening to his question. "Uh... S'ric? We're leaving tomorrow morning or...?" He closed the folder, pushing it off to the side, while he studied Jaks. He was still a little wet, the shirt sticking to his slender body in a couple different places.

S'ric indicated Jaks should come to him with a crooked finger. "Yes, tomorrow morning." His tone was a little subdued given that he wasn't really focused on answering. Proof of his good mood continued since he added, "We're going to be traveling quickly. Minimal rest until we reach the mountains." When he didn't want to wait anymore, S'ric pulled Jaks close to him. One hand disappeared up the back of his shirt, lightly gliding up his spine. "We'll be traveling on foot as well. You know how to get to Essyrn from here?" For the moment, S'ric was content enough to just lightly touch Jaks. Only his hand on his back.

[Anonymous]

Hell no they were not.

Minimal rest? On foot? Was this guy crazy?

Jaks resisted the crooked finger for as long as he could but S'ric pulled him closer anyway and he sighed. Hand on his back. That meant his shirt would be coming off soon and his pants and then they'd go at it in the furs like a pair of bunnies. Or, like a big horny werewolf and a little elf.

"Yeah I know how to get there, I have a house in Essyrn." Oh, crap. He couldn't run now, S'ric would probably break down all the doors just to find him. Jaks resisted the urge to smack his forehead into his open palm. Smooth, Elf Boy. Jaks moved his own hand down S'rics arm to gently rub at it, brushing his fingers against the werewolves neck before he gently pulled away, not all that sure what else to do. S'ric had that file thing to look over, and Jaks...

Felt sick.

Not sick to his stomach. Heart sick. Jaks was slow as he pulled away, his hand brushing over S'rics as he slowly made his way to the fur, his steps slow and precise one in front of the other, his bare feet quiet as they went over the ground towards the bedding. He stayed clothed and layed on his stomach, his head to the side and his hair a dark brown fan around his shoulders and head, his eyes slowly closing.

Sleep was a nice thing. Jaks was sure he wasn't going to get much of it during this little trip. Travelling. Quickly. Eugh.

[Anonymous]

So not only did Jaks know where Essyrn was, but he had a –house-. S'ric was rather curious about that. He was about to ask why the elf would live in such a hot, miserable place... but he was distracted by a touch, and then Jaks' was pulling away. Because of the way it was done, S'ric not only wasn't angry that he left –since it wasn't really a dismissal- but rather watched Jaks with a content, possessive look. Maybe his elf was finally learning.  He watched Jaks lay down, a sort of solemn air about him, before S'ric stood. He shrugged out of his coat and pulled his shirt off before crawling next to Jaks. The fire would probably go out while they were sleeping, but he didn't care enough to move and fix that.

S'ric stretched out on his side, his hand lightly gripping Jaks' hip. But rather than pulling the elf to him, he actually scooted so he way laying against Jaks'. The werewolf yawned before burying his face against his elf's neck, not caring his hair happened to be in the way. Jaks smelt a lot like S'ric, given how much they'd been around one another, but that was just an overcast to his actual smell. As he was, S'ric murmured, "You'll have to show me your house." Since they'd be leaving early, he made no other effort to talk. His hand remained on Jaks' hip as his breathing deepened, eventually falling asleep as he was.