"Lad," Liam yells from the bathroom of the master suite. "Come and help me with this goddamned tie!"

He's in a foul mood; he hates these stupid events and he hates the black tie thing. Plus there's always a possibility that Pierce--or even worse--Gabriel will be there. At least, he thinks, Jessica's in town. If I have to escort someone, it's nice to have someone I actually enjoy spending time with.

Like I know how to do this? Jason thinks as he joins Liam in the bathroom. Jason's only half-dressed himself, in the shirt and trousers but not the tie or jacket. He still has no idea why Liam's insisting that he attend the event, since they usually try to avoid being seen together in public.

On the up side, I'll get to see Susan again. Although Jason isn't generally comfortable around women, he enjoyed his Dangerous Lady co-star's acid humor when they worked together. She had been one of the few people who noticed how badly Jason was falling apart during filming, and the only one who had cared enough to check on him afterwards.

"Jaysus lad, you need to be dressed soon," Liam says fussing with his tie more. He actually does know how to tie a bow tie, but he's used to having Carrie-Anne do it. "Can you tie one of these things?"

"I've never tried to do one on someone else," says Jason, staring at the tangled strip of black silk. "But if you'd like me to try, Master, of course, I will."

"No, never mind," growls Liam. He takes the tie back, smoothes it out and ties it carefully, his big fingers surprisingly delicate on the silk. "You'll need to learn how to do this now that I don't have the girl anymore. I learned it, so I'm sure you can. If you're lucky I won't cane your palms and them make you try again."

Right. Brosnan. Jason forces down the surge of jealousy that always accompanies any mention of Liam's former master. "Yes, Master," is all he says out loud. Jason's been very careful around Liam since Ewan's visit.

"Well don't just stand there, lad; get your own done up!" He glances at his watch. "Fucking hate these things."

"Master..." Jason takes a deep breath. "This boy can't fasten his shirt unless Master removes his collar." He doesn't really want it to come off, Jason realizes, which makes him even more uncomfortable than he already is about attending this event.

"Oh right," Liam replies, snapping his fingers. "The black box on my dresser, bring it to me." He follows Jason out of the bathroom and sits on the edge of the bed.

Jason fetches the box and brings it back to Liam, then kneels at the other man's feet, tilting his head up slightly to give Liam access to the collar.

Liam pulls his key chain out and unlocks Jason's collar, putting it aside . Then he opens the black box and removes what looks like an ordinary flat large linked silver chain and an allen wrench. "It locks on with a screw," he explains, holding up the chain. "Barring costuming necessities, you wear it when you can't wear the collar."

One of the smaller knots of tension in Jason's shoulders uncoils at the sight of the chain, but three more immediately take its place as he realizes how desperately he wanted something like this. This just keeps getting more fucking pathetic, he thinks angrily. Pretty soon I won't be able to go to the lav without his permission.

That thought triggers a memory Jason had hoped he'd buried of another time he and Liam were in the master bathroom together. It takes all of his skill as an actor to keep his sudden revulsion at the pathetic creature he's become from showing.

"I'm accustomed," Liam says, his voice deceptively calm, "to being thanked when I give someone a gift." He slides one end of the clasp into the other and then turns the screw until the necklace is locked on.

Oh shit. Jason forces himself back into the moment and bows deeply to Liam. "This boy thanks his Master for the gift, and for the privilege of belonging to him."

"Looks good on you lad," Liam says, using the chain to pull Jason closer. He bends and kisses Jason, a hard claiming kiss that leaves Jason's lips a little swollen. "They'll think you've been snogging Susan."

"Not anyone who knows me," Jason snorts. "May this boy go finish getting ready, Master?"

"Yeah, do that," Liam says, pushing Jason away. He's in a bit of a mood; wonder if it's just the monkey suit or something else? Liam mentally shrugs as he gets to his feet. Jason's prone to moods as much as Liam is and they've learned to work around them. As long as those moods don't get in the way of Liam's desires, they don't really matter.

God, I fucking hate having to wear this thing, Jason thinks as he finishes doing up his shirt. Don't know why the fuck he wants me there, anyway, for some Irish charity thing. I'm a lot of things, but I'm sure as hell not Irish...

...but Brosnan is, and so is Gabriel Byrne. Liam wants to show off his new toy. Fine. Jason squares his shoulders and checks himself in the mirror before leaving the room. Not like I care, he assures himself hastily. I just don't need for him to get in a snit about something else.

Liam gets into his jacket and combs his hair one last time, before checking his watch. Damn cars better be here on time, he thinks as he moves downstairs. "Cars'll be here soon, lad!" he calls out. "You ready?"

For one frightening moment he wishes he were escorting Jason and then he shakes his head a little. You want him to suck you off in a limo, lad? That can be arranged, but some other time.

* * *

"Jesus, Jason." Susan punches his arm lightly. "This is supposed to be a party, not your bloody execution. Here. You look like a man who could use a drink." She hands him a glass of whisky which he drinks a little faster than he should.

Inchdrewer Glenfohry. Not more than twenty years old, Jason thinks automatically, then winces when he realizes that he only knows that because Liam drinks it.

I don't belong here. It's not just that he's the lone Jew in a room full of Irish Catholics--it's not even that these are some of the best actors of his generation. What bothers Jason is that he's only here at Liam's order, and no one besides Susan would spare him a glance if he wasn't "Liam's new boy."

"He's so angry," Jessica says, sipping her whiskey with a delicacy that amuses Liam no end, given that he's seen her knock back her scotch with the best of them. "I know you like your boys to hate you, but fuck Liam, that one could do a lot of damage if he gets out of control."

"Worried about me, lass?" he asks, grinning down at her.

"Hell yes," she replies tartly. "Hospitals depress me; I spent enough time amusing you last year, and I don't want to do it again any time soon."

"I can look after myself with Jason," Liam assures her. "What do you think of his date?"

"There's a lot of steel in that one," Jessica says, eying Susan and then shrugging a little in a move that doesn't fool Liam, who resolves to ask his boy about the lass. "Speaking of steel, or in this case the lack of it, you haven't told me why your girl now belongs to Rene Russo."

"No I haven't, have I?" Liam gives Jessica a look that leads her to understand that she'll have to try to drink him under the table to get the answer.

And I don't know that I can even come close any more, given the way he's sucking this stuff down tonight. "Come on, the poor boy looks a bit uncomfortable. Let's go make him really squirm."

Tucking her arm into his, Liam leads Jessica across the room toward Jason and Susan.

Susan takes a sip of her drink and watches Jason over the rim of the martini glass. She's dying to know what's going on; as part of her price for playing the beard tonight, she decides she's going to make Jason spill the whole story. He'd been tight with information over the phone, just telling her that he'd been asked to attend the party, and he needed a date. She'd been rather surprised when she turned up at the address Jason gave her and was introduced to Liam Neeson and Jessica Lange before both couples got into their separate limos.

Never would have figured Liam Neeson for a member of that particular church, she muses. Not with him supposedly fucking just about anything female, breathing, and reasonably attractive in Hollywood. And Jason usually goes for pretty boys he can push around. Yet when Liam had kissed Susan's hand, Jason's glare was pure "Back away from my man, bitch." And he knows me far too well to think I'd have any interest in going there...though I can't deny it would be an excellent career move. Except for the part where one of my best friends kills me, of course. She takes another sip of her martini and touches Jason's arm lightly. "Heads up, mate. Your boy's headed this way."

Jason nearly jumps out of his skin at Susan's words. She doesn't know, does she? No--she wouldn't have put it that way if she knew anything about all of this secret shite. And I want it to stay that way. I certainly don't want her getting mixed up in this, and ending up like Liam's ex-bitch. Susan is just as gay as he is, of course, but Jason knows full well that she is also just as ambitious as he is.

Jason straightens up a little from where he was leaning against a wall and smoothes his expression back into a polite, professional mask. Brosnan's here--he glimpsed him earlier--and Jason doesn't want to give him an excuse to criticize the way Liam handles his boy. And I surely don't want to give Liam a hint that I'm worried about Susan around him. The last thing the bastard needs is more ammunition against me.

"Susan," Jessica says cordially as she and Liam reach Jason and Susan. "We hardly had time to chat earlier. I wanted to compliment you on your dress; it's gorgeous."

Oh that's original, Jess, Liam thinks sardonically as he smiles at Susan. "You do look lovely; Jason is surely the envy of every man here."

"Coming from the two of you, that's quite a compliment," Susan says, smiling. "And...Jessica"--her stumble over calling Jessica by her first name isn't entirely artificial--"Yours is exquisite, but then, you could make anything look fabulous."

As Susan talks, Jason is desperately trying to find someplace safe to look. He doesn't want Liam to see the naked hunger that he knows will show in his face if Liam catches his eye.

"Thank you," Jessica purrs. "I just wish we didn't have to work so hard at it," she adds, glancing at Jason and then Liam. "It's not fair really; they can wear the same old thing to every single event. I should start wearing a tux all the time."

"Feel like giving the world the wrong impression?" Liam asks, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. He makes a vague show of patting the pocket down and then turns to Jason. "Got a light, lad?"

Jason hesitates. He has a lighter, of course, but he doesn't know if he should just hand it to Liam, or if he's expected to light Liam's cigarette. And no matter what I choose, he'll tell me it was wrong, Jason realizes.

The look on Jason's face is one that Susan has seen before, usually right before someone called break and Jason slipped off to the bathroom for another hit. Guess I should really rescue him. Quickly she reaches over and snags a cigarette from Liam's pack, holding it out to Jason and batting her eyelashes outrageously.

"Give us a light too, while you're at it, big brother?" Her eyes never leave his as Jason bows slightly and leans forward to light first her cigarette, then Liam's.

"Since I'm here," he says, smiling as he forces himself to breathe again. Fuck, she's good--and I'm going to owe her big after this.

"Very smooth," Jessica says very softly to Susan.

"Indeed," Liam says, turning his attention away from Jason and smiling down at Susan. "Jason tells me you two became friends during Dangerous Lady; did you look after him then too?"

Jessica's low voice makes Susan shiver just a little. "We looked after each other. Jason just needed more of it--I think it's a male thing." She smiles at Liam, but her attention is all on Jessica.

"Speaking of male things," Jessica says, "let's give the boys a little privacy. Beard etiquette and all that," she adds with a laugh, as she draws Susan off. "I can introduce you to a few people if there's anyone you'd like to meet...." her voice fades off as the women walk away and Liam turns to Jason.

"You dropped the ball there, lad," he says very quietly, his face a mask of bored politeness.

"This boy apologizes, Master," Jason replies, his voice equally soft and his lips barely moving as he speaks. Of course, it would have been fucking helpful if you'd given me an idea of what you were expecting, but we can't have that, can we? I might actually please you, God forbid.

"Humph," Liam snorts, taking a long drag of his cigarette and looking around. Both Gabriel and Pierce are here and he really shouldn't be needling Jason when there are those who would love to needle them both.

"It's possible that I'm being a bit harsh," he says, calmly.

Jason had been preparing for a fight; he's a bit taken aback by Liam's response.

"I should have asked if there was anything I needed to know for tonight," he concedes.

"Yes," Liam says coolly, "you should have." He glances around. "Has anyone given you trouble, lad?"

Pierce Brosnan has been watching Liam and Jason since they arrived. It's not too difficult to keep track of more than one conversation at a time, or the facial expressions of more than one person, and Liam and Jason are -- despite being actors -- not the most subtle men in the room. The trick with the cigarette lighter nearly had Pierce laughing, and as soon as Jason came up with a way to correct his mistake -- and oh, the boy's going to owe Susan a favor after the neat rescue -- Pierce begins making his way over to the two of them, arriving at Liam's shoulder in time to catch Liam's last concerned question to Jason -- has anyone given you trouble?

And if they haven't yet, Pierce is planning on fixing that. And making things difficult for Liam, as well.

"Hello, Liam. Jason." Pierce grins and puts a familiar hand on Liam's shoulder, then squeezes hard. He offers his hand to Jason, with bared teeth and an expression that says he's only waiting to see how Jason fucks up his greeting.

"Speaking of trouble," Liam says lightly, knowing damn well that Pierce overheard him. "Hello Pierce." He turns and shakes Pierce's hand, pulling him into the half hug between that's considered publicly acceptable between actors who have known each other a while. "How's yourself then?"

Jason takes a half-step back, making it look like he's just giving two old friends a chance to chat without him intruding. In addition to feeling out-of-place, he's feeling tired now, and more than any time in the past six years, he regrets having given up drugs.

"Oh, I'm doing quite nicely," Pierce says to Liam, but his eyes are on Jason, taking in his discomfort, the quiet set of his jaw, the way his eyes seem unable to rest in one place for more than a few seconds. "And yourself, Liam?" Pierce's attention wouldn't be nearly this focused on Jason if Liam had simply given in and allowed him to greet his boy. The interception has Pierce intrigued.

"You know Jason, of course," Liam says his voice still blandly calm. It's costing a lot to maintain though, he wish the floor would open up and swallow Pierce and his all too keen glances. At least it's not Gabriel. The thought is cold comfort, because Gabriel is here and he could come up at any moment.

Giving Pierce another of his odd half-bows, Jason says, "It's a pleasure to see you again, Sir." It isn't, and they all know it, but the pretense must be maintained.

"Glad to hear it," Pierce purrs, reaching forward with one hand to grasp Jason's shoulder, offering the other one again a second time. The grip on Jason's shoulder is just tight enough to make his point -- no backing away from me this time -- and just familiar enough to cross a line with Liam. "I've not seen nearly enough of you since we met," he says. "Something been keeping you out of the public view, lad?"

Narrowing his eyes, Liam glares at Pierce glad his back is to the crowd. "Don't get grabby without my permission, Pierce," he says quietly.

Pierce removes his hand from Jason's shoulder, letting his fingertips linger a moment longer than is strictly necessary before dropping his arms to his sides. He still isn't looking at Liam. "And since when do I have to ask your permission for anything, Liam?" he murmurs. His eyes trace over Jason's features, and he grins, teeth bared. "You've always been decent about sharing."

"Have you forgotten everything you taught me?" Liam asks tightly. "It's polite to ask before you go making assumptions about other people's property." He's trying to ignore the hot rage building up in his gut at the idea of sharing Jason with anyone, let alone Pierce.

He's bloody well mine.

Feeling like a spectator at some bizarre, fucked-up Wimbledon, Jason glances from Liam to Pierce. I'd suggest that they whip 'em out and get a ruler to settle this, but Liam would win.

"As it means so much to you, Liam," Pierce murmurs, "I can back off. Wouldn't want to get in the way." His grin's a little less feral now. No bared teeth; just the hint of a nasty little grin hiding in the corner of his mouth.

With the air of quoting someone, Liam replies, "'Manners are vital lad, particularly in public.'"

"Your memory's not as good as some," Pierce observes, "but it's good to see you remember some lessons." His eyes drift back to Jason. "Some select few lessons, perhaps."

"Such as?" Liam asks through gritted teeth.

Pierce's voice drops. "How long have you been growling like this when other people look at your boy, Liam?" he asks. "Possessiveness on this level must be terrifically distracting. For both of you."

Jason shifts a little closer to Liam. He actually rather likes the fact that Liam's so possessive, but he's certainly not going to say that in front of Pierce.

"Do you have a point you'd like to make, or are you just being an arse, Pierce?" Liam snaps, moving subtly away from Jason. Don't go and get clingy on me in front of Pierce, damn you lad.

"I wouldn't say it's a point, precisely," Pierce muses. "More an observation." He lifts an eyebrow, looking from one to the other of them. "And I thank you for giving me such interesting things to observe. Both of you." His eyes fix on Liam's. "We'll be in touch, of course. You still owe me a favor, if I remember." He looks briefly at Jason, and then back to Liam. "I'll be certain to ask permission."

Knocking back the rest of his scotch to deal with the way his chest hurts at Pierce's words, Liam scowls. Bastard backed me into a corner.

"Yeah call me," he says to Pierce, not looking at Jason. "I've no problem if you ask."

"Bastard," Liam mutters as Pierce walks away, not really caring if Pierce hears him or not. He turns to Jason and holds out his glass. "Get me another. Make it a double."

Jason doesn't respond verbally; he simply takes the glass and gets Liam his drink as ordered. Although he tries to pretend that he doesn't notice, he's making careful note of which actors are giving him sidelong glances or speculative looks.

Liam takes a long breath and then lets it out before lighting up another cigarette with the lighter he had in his pocket all along. Can we fucking leave yet? he wonders as he watches Jason make his way back.

Anyone who knows me is looking at him and damn but if he's not handling this pretty well, given that he just had to deal with Pierce. Liam can't ... he won't look at Gabriel. I'm not sure I want to know what Master thinks.

Jason hands Liam his glass. Quietly he leans over and asks, "Should I go collect Susan and Jessica?" He's more than ready for this party to be over. We've made our appearance, now can't we get the hell out of here?

"Yeah, do that," Liam says, knocking back the whiskey. He looks around as Jason moves into the crowd again but Gabriel was nowhere to be seen and he feels no need to say goodbye to Pierce. Fucking bastard, he thinks again and wonders if Jessica's managed to charm Susan enough that they can share a limo, leaving the other for himself and Jason. I want my boy working on my cock. Right now.

Susan and Jessica are deep in conversation when Jason comes up to them. "Ladies? Are you interested in staying around, or are you ready to call it an evening?" Fuck, that sounded awkward, but I'm not sure where I stand in relation to Jessica. Susan, I'd just say, "C'mon, babe, let's get out of here," but somehow, I don't think I'm allowed to say that to Jessica.

Jessica glances at Susan. "Are you done being bored?" She leans in and says quietly. "Liam's got that I need to shag my boy look to him." She looks at Jason somehow managing to convey amusement and pity in equal measure.

Susan presses her lips together so she doesn't burst out laughing, and nods to Jessica. She hasn't been bored at all, actually, but she'd prefer to finish the conversation she and Jessica have been having somewhere a bit more private.

For Jason, it's the hint of pity in Jessica's expression that makes him clench his teeth hard almost enough to crack a molar. I don't need your fucking pity, lady, or anyone else's. I'm with him because I chose to be. He gestures, indicating that Susan and Jessica should precede him, and heads back towards where Liam is waiting.

When they join him, Liam is chatting with Neil Jordan but he smiles at Neil as they come up. "I'll be leaving now, but call me. Sounds like an interesting thing." They shake hands and Liam turns to the women and Jason as Neil moves off. "Let's get the fuck out of here," he says, taking Jessica's arm.

"Please tell me you want Jason in your limo as much as I want Susan in mine," Jessica says softly.

"I love you, you know," Liam replies. "Let's get married."

She chuckles as they move out of the building. "Mmmmm and we can keep matching pets ... I like it."

Vowing to send her flowers and some insanely expensive scotch, Liam pages the drivers and turns to Susan and Jason as they all wait. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he asks Susan.

"Very much so," she says with a grin. "It was quite the interesting evening. And...educational." Susan looks at Jessica, and the grin broadens.

"Well why don't I see you home then," Jessica purrs, reaching up to push a lock of Susan's hair back into place.

"Lucky Jessica," Liam says, reaching for Susan's hand and kissing it lingeringly. He knows damn well she's a dyke and she has way too much steel in her for him to be interested but it's a good time to remind Jason that his Master likes women too.

Jason's lips tighten. He knows exactly what Liam's doing, and it's bloody irritating. As soon as Liam moves away, he gives Susan a quick hug. "Be careful," he whispers.

Oh, Jason. It's always so easy to push your buttons, Susan thinks as Liam's mouth brushes her hand. When Jason murmurs his warning in her ear, she really does have to fight not to burst out laughing. "Oh, I will," she whispers back. "And remember, mate--you owe me." She steps back, close to Jessica but not too close. "Shall we, then?"

"By all means," Jessica says. "Good night Liam, darling." She gives Liam a quick embrace and a peck on the cheek and then nods at Jason. "Good night, lad," she says a little coolly, none to amused at what had to be his whispered warning to Susan. The first limo pulls up and she slides in after Susan and the driver shuts the door on them.

"And here's ours, lad," Liam says. Just before the reach the car, he adds quietly: "Get in and get on your knees the minute the door is closed behind me. I want your mouth on my cock."

God, but I've been waiting for that. Jason shivers at Liam's words, wanting and needing it badly despite his efforts not to. The door of the limo is barely shut before Jason's kneeling at Liam's feet and fumbling at his trousers in his eagerness to have Liam's cock in his mouth.

"Jaysus, but I've got me a fucking eager whore," Liam growls, digging his fingers into Jason's shoulders. "Could have rented you out all fucking night and made as much as I gave to the fucking charity."

Jason can feel his face getting red, but he doesn't try to answer, not with Liam's cock down his throat. Usually he gets off on having Liam call him a slut and a whore but now all he can think of are the dismissive looks from the party guest who knew why he was there. Liam's boy. Liam's slave. That's all I was to them.

"I should do that some time," Liam says, intrigued by the idea. "Take you to a party ... one of our parties and chain you on your knees and elbows to a table and let everyone have a go at you." He has to pause, between Jason's clever mouth and the idea of watching everyone use Jason, he's already close to an orgasm. "You're such a damn slut, you'd probably beg for more by the time the night was done."

Yes. Jason moans, relaxing his throat so he take all of Liam in. He's more than half hard, which makes him despise himself more than ever. Slut. Whore. Slave. Weak. Pathetic.

"Jaysus lad, your mouth alone," Liam says. Before he can finish the thought, the car hits a pothole and the suddenness of the bump causes Jason to shift at the wrong time. "Bloody hell," Liam snaps, slapping Jason off him as if the other man were an annoying insect. "I don't remember telling you to use your fuckin' teeth, lad."

In all honesty it's not that bad a scrape, but anything that even hints at Jason trying to hurt Liam when Liam is firmly on top disturbs the hell out of the big man. The lines between them are all too thin at times and he won't have Jason getting ideas.

Jason just barely manages to stop himself from cringing and begging Liam's forgiveness. In the time it takes him to do so, however, his fear and uncertainty coalesce into a fierce, hot rage. He kneels up, back rigid, and bows his head. "This slave apologizes for his carelessness, Master," he says, his voice flat and devoid of any emotion whatsoever.

Annoyed already by the whole evening, Liam finds Jason's tone of voice less that satisfactory. "You sound less that sincere, lad," he says, reaching down and slapping Jason hard enough to leave a reddened hand print on Jason's cheek.

"It's not like I did it on purpose," Jason snaps back. Even as he says it he knows it's a bad idea, but he's past caring. No matter what I do, it's never good enough, is it--and all because he can't fucking face the fact that he likes to be on the bottom sometimes. I'm fucking sick of it, and sick of hating myself for going along with it all.

"I'm not in the mood for your insolence, lad," Liam says in a flat voice that he hopes will disabuse Jason of any notion he had of topping tonight. "You'll be punished when we get back to the house." With that he turns his attention the window, staring at his reflection superimposed over nighttime London and ignoring the man at his feet.

Jaysus but I look tired.

Jason closes his eyes and remains perfectly still and silent the rest of the way home. Before the driver can come around to open the door, Jason's already out of the car and halfway to the house.

Liam tips the driver lavishly in cash; the agency he uses knows better than to hire anyone who would gossip and so he's not as disturbed by that aspect of things as he is by Jason's behavior.

"Lad?" he bellows as he comes through the front door. "Where the bloody hell are you?"

Jason had planned to go up and get out of the damned tux, but he doesn't even make it to the top of the stairs before all of his pent-up anger and resentment and fear spills out in a toxic flood. He hears Liam calling him, but the sound is drowned out by the steady thump as Jason slams his head into the wall over and over again.

"What the...?" Liam dashes madly up the stairs and grabs at Jason's shoulders. "Stop that now," he snaps, hoping his fear can't be heard in his voice. Christ Jesus ... what the fuck is he doing?

Liam's words and the weight of his hands on Jason's shoulders are lost in the bright, sharp pain as Jason continues beating his head against the wall. Hate him love him hate me can't stop have to get out can't leave trapped...

It's obvious that Liam's words are not getting through and Liam quickly moves until he's in between Jason and the wall. He plants one hand on Jason's chest and gabs Jason's arm with the other one, hoping that this grappling doesn't send them both crashing down the stairs. It's easier to pretend that he's not terrified if he has to manhandle Jason like this and Liam is almost grateful for the difficulty of it.

"Don't--" Jason hisses. He's staring at Liam but not really seeing him through the haze of red obscuring his vision. After an endless moment, he starts to shake, and sits down hard on the stairs.

What the fuck do I do now? Liam thinks, moving in front of Jason and taking the other man's hands firmly in his. "Breathe lad. Breathe."

I fucking need a drink here. And that is almost as frightening as Jason's behavior. Later, Liam promises himself. Later.

Taking a long, shuddering breath, Jason clutches Liam's hands tightly. "Sorry--oh, God, Master, I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers. "I don't know, it just...all of a sudden, it was all too much, being out like that, and, fuck, I just...something broke."

"Sorry?" Liam says, frowning. For some insane reason he wants to pull Jason into his arms and hold the other man close. "You did that," he demands looking at Jason's forehead. There will be a lump there soon and after years spent in the ring, Liam's all too familiar with the kind off damage Jason could have done to himself. "You did that and you're sorry?"

"I didn't mean to, it just happened, I don't know..." Jason's babbling now, a cold fear tightening like an iron band around his chest. He's going to kick me out. I would.

"Jaysus, lad," Liam snaps. "Stop fucking babbling and get downstairs to the kitchen. I need to look at your forehead." And drink something; God do I need to drink something.

"I--yes, Master." Jason pulls himself to his feet. Now that the adrenaline rush has faded, he's very aware of the fact that his head hurts.

Liam leads Jason to the kitchen and points him to a chair before busying himself with ice and a plastic bag and a towel. "Close your eyes," he orders, tilting Jason's head back so the main kitchen light falls across his face, highlighting the already bruised area on Jason's high forehead. Jaysus.

"Open your left eye. Good, now your right." Jason's pupils are dilating properly and Liam nods, handing over the ice pack. "You dizzy? Did you feel, even for a minute that you lost consciousness?"

"No--" Jason starts to shake his head, and winces. He presses the ice pack to his forehead. "No, I was out of it, but not unconscious." He looks down, around the kitchen, anywhere but at Liam. "Thanks."

"Fucking idiot," Liam growls as he pulls a tumbler and a bottle of Bushmills out of a cupboard. Pouring what would probably be at least four fingers if he were bothering to measure it, he takes a drink and then another, appreciating the way the whiskey burns as it goes down. This is not a night for smooth liquor.

"I'm not pleased with you lad," he says coldly. "Not pleased at all."

"I know Master." Jason takes a deep breath. "Shall I go get my things, then?" At least I waited to fall apart until we left--I didn't embarrass either of us in front of Brosnan and Byrne. I suppose that's something.

What the fuck?

"Are you leaving me then, lad?" Liam asks, pleased by the way his hand doesn't shake as he drinks half the remaining contents of his glass in one gulp.

"Well, you're going to kick me out, aren't you?" says Jason, frowning a little as he watches Liam down the whiskey. Not my problem anymore, he tells himself firmly.

Another gulp sees the glass empty and Liam fills it again without looking at Jason. "You've always had the option to leave if you can't fulfill the contract." He drinks more. "'S just a fucking piece of paper, isn't it lad?"

Not that Liam believes that; all contracts are binding to him whether legal or not. But the nonchalance is easier than what he wants to do. I've never asked anyone to stay. Please ... Christ Jesus, please lad, don't make me ask.

"I didn't say I can't fulfill anything. Master," Jason says, not quite snapping. He sighs. "Look I--I just figured you'd want me gone after that. I mean, you've threatened to throw me out before over less." Fuck...don't make me beg. I don't think I could handle that, not now.

"Don't you be criticizing my topping, lad," Liam snaps after another drink, smaller this time. He sighs and holds up a hand. "Just ... give me a minute here."

The truth of the matter is that Liam's at a loss for what to do and he stares at Jason mutely for a long moment. I don't want to lose him, but I don't know how to keep him. There's really only one place he can go for help and that he's willing to go there is an unwelcome indication at how important Jason is to him.

"You're staying," he says with an authority he doesn't feel. "And now I need to make a phone call." With that he leaves the kitchen, taking his glass with him.

Jason leans back in his chair and closes his eyes, overwhelmed by a sudden sense of relief. Liam's surely going to punish him, but at least he's not going to get rid of him. Not yet.

Reluctantly, Jason forces himself to think about why that matters. He's known the answer for months, but he's tried hard to avoid it. And now, of course, it's coming back to bite me in the arse. But the truth is...yeah, I fucking love the bastard, and that's why I'll do things for him that I won't do for anyone else.

Maybe...maybe that's not such a bad thing? It hasn't actually killed me yet, right? And it's not like I have to say anything...

Liam sits down at his desk in the study and picks up the phone, resisting the urge to kneel. He used to have to do that; kneel in hotel rooms, his posture perfect, while he talked to the man he's now calling.

But he gave me to Pierce. The thought, as always, is a tangled mess of regret and relief. One more drink and then he's dialing the number; it's not the same one Gabriel had all those years ago but each time Liam's gotten one of the plain white cards Gabriel uses to announce a new phone number, he's sat alone and memorized it in the first twenty minutes.

Gabriel is still at the party. The buzz of his mobile in his pocket draws his attention away from the people he's been speaking with, and he makes a few quick apologies and heads outside to answer it.

It doesn't surprise him to see Liam's number on the ID display; he's spent most of the evening mentally composing a note to send Liam in the morning. That boy of Liam's spent half the night looking like a deer in headlights and the other half the night looking ready to jump at the nearest throat, teeth bared. What Gabriel saw when looking at Jason was a man with a lit fuse, and what he saw when looking at Liam was a master who didn't quite know how to deal with it. Two different kinds of vulnerability, and Gabriel had plans for each within five minutes of watching Liam and Jason together.

He answers his phone and digs into his pocket for a cigarette. "Hello, Liam," he murmurs. "You've interrupted me mid-conversation. I've had to make apologies to three different people in order to take this phone call."

"I apologize Sir," Liam says. "Thank you, Sir, for interrupting your evening for me."

Thank you ... thank you ... fucking thank you. There are times Liam thought that all he ever said to Gabriel was "thank you." Idly he wonders how many times he's thanked Gabriel for everything from pain to a glass of water. He drinks more of his scotch and waits for Gabriel to ask why he's calling.

"Good boy," Gabriel murmurs. "And what are you after, William John?"

Once Liam used to think that when he was a Master, he'd be able demand his normal name from Gabriel but he still hasn't managed to bring himself to do it yet.

"I have a problem with my boy, Sir," Liam says, sighing and drinking more scotch.

"I saw you with your boy tonight," Gabriel replies. "I was surprised you didn't come over and introduce him personally. I spent most of the evening expecting that. You disappointed me, William John."

"I apologize Sir," Liam replies. "I didn't want to intrude on you."

"You're forgiven," Gabriel says. "You were saying you had a problem with your boy..." He lights his cigarette and snaps the lighter shut, sliding it back into his pocket. "How serious a problem?"

Before answering, Liam finishes the last of the whiskey in his glass. "He's got a lump on his forehead from banging his head against the fucking wall when we got home tonight," he says, forgetting his manners in the face of his fear for Jason.

There's a long silence on Gabriel's end of the line. He takes several long, slow drags off his cigarette before speaking again.

"You're cursing at me, William John."

"I apologize Sir," Liam replies, wincing. "Thank you for the correction Sir." He pauses, tucking the phone up under his chin while he moves across the room to get another drink, the good stuff this time. "I ... I don't know what to do with him, Sir."

Another measured beat. Gabriel doesn't want this coming out too quickly. "Give him to me," he says. "For the weekend. Forty-eight hours." The tone's the same one Gabriel used to use when he was giving Liam orders he knew Liam would want to reject out of hand; he might not have the authority to back it up, but Liam will remember that voice.

"Sir?" Liam said, feeling the order like a punch to the gut. "Sir, he's hurt right now." It's a damn stupid excuse but it's the best Liam can do on such short notice and with this much alcohol in his system.

"Are you telling me no, William John?" Gabriel asks, voice steady. "Are you saying a boy of yours can't stand up to what I'd ask of him over a weekend?"

"Please Sir," Liam says a little desperately. He drinks more scotch and tries again. "Please Sir he's ... not this weekend please Sir?"

"And if I say 'not this weekend', then next weekend you'll have a new excuse for me, won't you? Is there a reason you're so desperate to keep your boy away from me, William John?" Gabriel asks. "What, precisely, are you afraid I'll do to him?"

Goddamn you, Master!

"Sir I...." But it's no good, Gabriel has backed Liam into a corner and the only way out is to admit his fears. Since Liam can't really admit them to himself, there's no way in hell he's going to admit it to Gabriel. He takes another drink, telling himself the burn in his chest is from the smooth scotch. "Please Sir, a favor?" Once more he has to resist the urge to drop to his knees.

"You may ask for anything you like, William John, so long as you do it properly," Gabriel says. Liam's voice is exactly where Gabriel wanted it: quiet and fully submissive. Christ, William John, if only you could have stayed that way for me...

He pushes it out of his head and concentrates on the phone. "You remember how to ask, William John. I'm waiting."

He won't know, Liam thinks. He won't know. Any more than he would have known all those times when either of us was in a hotel room somewhere.

Desperately wishing he'd told Jason to stay in the kitchen, and hoping Jason does anyway, Liam moves off his chair and kneels on the floor, his posture perfect. "Please Sir, may I be there too?"

There's a certain length of time that a master can wait after a question like this. Just long enough to make Liam uncomfortable, but not so long that it stretches into actual torture. Gabriel knows precisely how long to draw out his silence.

"There are stipulations," he says.

Of course there are, Liam thinks wearily. He's a little surprised at how much he's willing to go through to be there just in case Jason needs him. That's a nerve wracking thought and he takes a deep breath and lets it out again as softly as possible.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you Sir."

"You won't see him unless I approve it," Gabriel says; this one's the obvious condition, the one Liam would have expected. "And you won't drink in my home."

"I can't...." Liam blurts out before he can help it. Not seeing Jason was a given and while he'd known there would be at least one condition that was unpalatable this is.... Not good. Not good at all.

"I apologize for speaking out of turn, Sir," Liam says after a brief moment of silence.

"I don't believe I heard you properly, William John," Gabriel says calmly. "Did you say I can't? Be very specific." His voice goes cold. "What can't you do?"

Shit shit shit! What in hell made me say that of all things. Gabriel had always hated hearing "I can't" from Liam and he'd always want to know what it was Liam couldn't do and why, in painful and completely humiliating detail. He sighs, not so carefully this time. Best get try to get out of this as gracefully as possible. And remember, you're the better actor here. It's not much comfort but then, it never was.

"I forgot myself Sir," he says carefully. "I would find it difficult but not impossible to keep your conditions, Sir."

"Hm," Gabriel murmurs. "Difficult in what way, William John?" He's not giving up on this line of questioning. Liam hasn't squirmed nearly enough yet.

Let it go please, Sir?

"Jason is my boy, Sir," Liam says, choosing his words with care. "While I trust you very much, we do not top in the same way and I'm his first top. I feel a responsibility toward him, Sir."

"You'll be in my house should anything go poorly." Gabriel considers the very careful way in which Liam described his problem, and crushes his cigarette out on the balcony. "Has he any hard limits that might cause him to panic while he's under me?"

"Watersports, Sir," Liam's voice is even more carefully neutral. "He's asked that I not tattoo him but that won't be an issue with you Sir."

It's an odd enough comment that Gabriel knows Liam wants him to ask after it. Nice ploy, William John. Gabriel's curious, but since tattooing certainly isn't in his game plan for a borrowed slave, he lets it pass. "That it won't," he answers dryly. "You have no other problems with my conditions, then?"

Casting one nervous look at the glass on his desk, Liam bites his lip. I don't need it after all.

"No other problems Sir." He swallows and glances at the study door, hoping once again that Jason stayed put in the kitchen. "When would you like me to bring him by, Sir?"

"Friday morning. Six a.m." Gabriel smiles. "Are you on your knees for me, William John?"

"Friday at six, Yes Sir," Liam replies. "And yes Sir, I'm on my knees." And hard too, damn it all. I hope you can't hear that in my voice. It's a possibility; Gabriel can read things in Liam that no one else can. As much as Liam hates to admit it, he misses that. Things were so much simpler before the night he put a whip in my hand and we both discovered that I liked it and was good at it. Although if that hadn't happened, I'd have never met Jason....

Gabriel can tell that kneeling's gotten Liam hard, but he wants to hear it in Liam's own words. "Tell me, William John -- does it still arouse you, being on your knees for me? Is your cock hard?"

"Yes it does, Sir. Thank you, Sir," Liam replies, hating the way he can feel himself responding to the question. It's all subtle -- insidious you might even say -- the way his whole body goes receptive and loose, ready to bend to Gabriel's will in whatever way Gabriel requires. Bloody conditioning it is. It's not a comforting thought.

"You're offering me your boy, and I appreciate that. Would you offer me yourself, William John, if I asked it of you?"

Offering? Liam thinks, glad Gabriel's not there to see his eyes narrowing. You bloody well demanded Master.

"To be honest Sir," he says cautiously, "It would depend one what I was offering myself for. For a scene? Yes Sir, I would be honored to scene with you. Anything more would be ... complicated, Sir." Liam finds himself wishing that he hadn't had that last glass of scotch, negotiating with Gabriel requires a clear head.

And then, quite suddenly, Liam wonders what Jason would make of this. Jason, who when he tops, never fails to growl Mine at least half a dozen times. Can I even offer myself to Gabriel anymore? It's a damned unsettling thought and he goes rather quickly from wishing he hadn't had that drink to wishing he could have another one.

"I think I'm going to enjoy hearing about your 'complications'," Gabriel smiles, "but later. When you and your boy are in my house over the weekend." When Liam's gone thirty-six hours without a drink, he's heard his boy's screams echoing down the halls, and he's put himself on his knees -- that sounds like the appropriate time for this conversation, Gabriel decides. "Is there anything else you need, Liam?"

"No Sir," Liam replies. Although that "Liam" signals a return to a more casual conversation, he's very careful not to let his sigh of relief out just yet. "Thank you for your help and your offer, Sir."

"You'll be thanking me a good deal more by the end of the weekend, I'm sure," Gabriel grins. "I'll see you at six on Friday."

"Yes Sir," Liam replies, politely waiting until Gabriel hangs up before he pushes the phone's off button. Jaysus ... fuck.

Sill on his knees, he sighs and leans sideways a little, resting his weight on the desk. "It would be," he says very softly to the empty room, "so much easier if I could hate him"

After a moment he gets to his feet, replacing the phone in its cradle and then reaching for the glass of scotch. There's not much left and he goes to finish it and then thinks again, carrying it with him into the kitchen.

Much to his relief, Jason is still sitting at the table, looking tired and a little blank. "How's your head, lad?" Liam asks as he moves over to the sink and empties his glass before setting it on the counter.

"A little sore, but that's all." Jason looks up. He wants to ask Liam if he's okay, but he's not sure if that would be welcome, so he stays silent.

"We need to talk," Liam says, running water into the kettle. "Tea?"

"Er--yes, Master. Do you want--I can get that, if you like." Jason feels awkward and uncertain, still waiting to hear what his fate will be.

"No, it's fine," Liam says, finding the homey task helpful to deal with his lingering erection. "I called Gabriel. Had to apologize for not introducing you to him tonight. You caught his eye." He wonders if Jason would have caught Gabriel's eye if Jason didn't belong to Liam. He's not sure which way he'd prefer it to be. On one hand he'd rather Jason caught no one's eye, while on the other Jason should catch the eye of anyone who knows what he's looking at.

Jason's eyes widen. "Is catching his eye a good thing or a bad thing?" He realizes suddenly that while he knows a little bit about Liam and Pierce, he knows nothing about Liam's relationship with Gabriel.

"He wants you. This weekend." Liam says, warming the teapot at the sink. Hopefully the news will make Jason forget his question. Is Gabriel's attention bad or good? I can't even tell anymore, if I ever could.

"You told him no, right?" Right?

"Jason," Liam says tiredly, still facing the sink. "I don't tell Gabriel 'no.'"

"You..." Jason's hands are cold, and not from the ice pack he's still holding. "You're giving me to him? After--" After being so jealous you barely wanted Pierce talking to me? After getting furious with me because I let Orlando get in a shot at me that he-and I--deserved?

"I have to," Liam says quietly, only now realizing that the hot water is running out of the tea pot and over his hands. "I can't bloody well say no to him. Jaysus, so many years and I can't say no." God it hurts. It all hurts.

Jason lowers his head for a moment, gathering himself, then drops to his knees and crawls over to Liam. "Please," he begs. "Please, Master. If you want to get rid of me...not like this. Please."

The teapot slides from Liam's hands to crash in the sink, sending shards of pottery flying. "Get rid ... when the fuck did I say I was getting rid of you?" he growls turning to stare down at Jason. "I will never...." let you go!

"Fuck, broke the fuckin' teapot."

Confused, Jason gets to his feet. "Here, Master--let me." He nudges Liam aside and starts to pick the ceramic shards out of the sink. "I thought, when you said that Gabriel wanted me, you meant that you were transferring my contract to him." Jason is quite pleased that he manages to keep his voice steady.

"Jaysus, no lad, he just wants you for the weekend," Liam says, getting the other teapot out of the cupboard. "I ... he wouldn't accept that you're hurt but ... fuck." He doesn't know how to tell Jason what happened and he ends up looking at Jason pleadingly, and hating that he can't explain why this is all wrong.

"Oh..." Jason is too tired to try to hide his enormous relief. He takes the remains of the teapot and dumps them into the dustbin, using the moment to compose himself a little. When he turns back to Liam, his face is outwardly calm.

"Can you tell me what to expect from him? I don't want to give him any reason to criticize you." I want to make you look good.

"God," Liam says tiredly, putting the teapot down and moving back to sit down. "Where to start? Don't swear. Thank him for everything. He's meticulous and precise and he'll slip under your skin like a sliver of glass." He blinks a little at his own flight of fancy. "Don't ever tell him you can't do something. Trust me on that one. And if he comes to me at any point in the weekend and tells me you called him Master; so help me Jaysus I will give you to him right there and walk out of that house."

God, I want a fucking drink. But no, I have two days to get used to going without.

Jason arches an eyebrow. That was almost poetic, he thinks, surprised. There's a distinct glint of humor in his eyes when he says aloud, "Don't swear? That's going to be f--that's going to be difficult. Guess I should start practicing now." A thought occurs to him: "What should I call him? Will 'Sir' do?"

"Sir will do fine," Liam says. Later he'll blame all the alcohol in his system for what he says next. "You have to practice not swearing, and I have to practice not swearing and not drinking."

Sure that he didn't hear what he thought he heard, Jason repeats, "Not drinking?" Then the meaning behind Liam's words hits him. "You're going to be there too." Jason finds that thought reassuring, which disturbs him a great deal.

"Yeah," Liam replies tiredly. "And you better appreciate it too lad, had to go on my knees to ask that." The minute the words are out of his mouth, Liam winces. He didn't want Jason to know that. In fact he's more than a little nervous to see how Jason will react. My life, he thinks, is far too complicated.

"Right." Jason nods. "Anything else I need to know?" He's glad that Liam growled, glad that his Master is treating this as simple possessiveness. I can deal with that--it's this other shit that scares me. But I'm starting to wonder if we're going to have to talk about it eventually.

Sighing, Liam tries to think. "Can't think of anything. You know how you always complain that you can't do anything right with me? It's an inherited trait." He sighs again and looks at Jason's forehead. "How's the head lad? I was thinking it was time to turn in." The simple domesticity of the situation is unnerving, particularly when Liam realizes how much simple comfort he takes from it. But in truth he's too tired and emotionally wrung out to try to be cruel to make up for it and so he just looks at Jason quietly.

"The head's okay," Jason says, "And bed sounds like a great idea. Especially since it involves getting out of the monkey suits." He glances over at Liam and asks, "Will you need me to help you with that, Master?"

"Yeah," Liam says as gets to his feet and pulls the plug on the kettle. "And I want to put your collar back on you." he heads toward the stairs and stops halfway up them. "Lad? You...." scared the hell out of me . "No more banging your head on walls, yeah?" It doesn't sound as much like an order as he'd like but he doesn't much care as long as Jason never does it again.

"No, Master. I just...I was angry, and I didn't have anyplace for it to go." He pauses and adds, "I'm sorry." It would be so much easier if he'd just let me beat him, but...fuck, who am I kidding? It's not like I'd mind either way, you know? I'm not a bottom. I'm his bottom. And that's fucking different.

"Yeah well ... let me know if this sort of thing starts to happen again. I'll find something for you to do." Like maybe beat the crap out of me.

Sighing Liam continues up to the bedroom. "Set the alarm for 4:30, Gabriel expects us at six. And lad I want you naked before you get me undressed here."

"Yes, Master." Jason sets the alarm and strips quickly. He carefully avoids looking in the mirror; he doesn't want to see himself smiling with anticipation.

"Bring me the collar first," Liam says once Jason's naked. He locks it around Jason's neck, leaving the chain necklace on. "You'll wear both tomorrow morning. I'll have the key to the collar but not the allen wrench that takes the chain off." It bothers him how important it is that Jason is marked as his, as if the rings in his nipples and the small discreet silver hoop in his ear doesn't say it already.

Jason is hard almost as soon as Liam locks the collar around his neck, but for once, he welcomes it rather than resenting it. Yes, he's Liam's slave--but in some twisted way that Jason doesn't understand and won't question, Liam is also his. You don't say you're going to go dry for a weekend--not when you drink like he does--if it's not for something you think is important.

"I want your mouth now," Liam growls, his voice angry and almost desperate. "Get your mouth on me now, you fucking whore." Somehow he knows, or at least hopes, that Jason will know that it's Gabriel and Pierce that Liam's angry with. And really with us, "fucking whore" is not necessarily a bad thing.

This time, the little shiver that Jason gets is pure lust, not self-loathing. As quickly as he can he undoes Liam's trousers, takes his Master's cock out and swallows it to the root. Your whore.

Tomorrow Jason will get finesse from Gabriel, and even as Liam shies away from the thought, he lets it drive him to act in the opposite way. Grabbing onto the front of Jason's collar, he yanks hard, pulling Jason down over his cock as Liam thrusts into Jason's mouth. "Mine," he growls. I want to mark Jason in some way tonight.

Liam's choking him now and it's fucking incredible, having that huge thick cock so far down his throat that he can't breathe. Jason sucks hard, his tongue working frantically on every part of Liam's shaft he can reach. He shoves Liam's trousers down further so that he can caress Liam's balls lightly, almost teasingly.

"Jaysus," Liam gasps, pulling Jason off long enough for Jason to catch a little breath and then Liam's shoving him down again. "Fucking choke on it whore."

Jason gags, trying to relax his throat as much as he can. He shifts a little closer so that his erection is pressed against Liam's leg, trying to communicate what he can't beg for at the moment. Yes...tell me what a whore I am for wanting you this badly.

"Christ, you'd fucking hump my damned leg, wouldn't you?" Liam pulls Jason up for more air and then shoves him back down again. "Fucking slut. Bet I could take you to the right bar and you'd do this in front of everyone. Whore ... such a ... whore for ... me."

Yes. Oh, yes. Jason moans around Liam's cock. Tomorrow Liam will give him to another man, and not Ewan either, but someone whose opinion matters to Liam. But for now, there's only Liam, and Jason, and Jason wants to make his Master come--down his throat, buried in his arse, or on his face--anywhere, just so long as Jason feels owned and claimed.

Once more dragging Jason off his cock, Liam stares down at him. "Up on the bed, whore. Knees and elbows." He tears off his clothes as fast as he can, before moving behind Jason. "Gonna fuck you, but first ... gonna hurt you and fucking mark you." With that he's bending to bite down brutally on one of Jason's arse cheeks.

That's unexpected, and Jason yelps as he feels Liam's teeth biting into his arse. "God, yes...please, Master, hurt your boy." I want Byrne to know that I'm yours, not his, even if he has me for a few hours.

"Mmmm," Liam rumbles, not raising his mouth from Jason's arse. He sucks hard as he bites, knowing that even after 10 months of heavy beatings, Jason's still going to mark up from this. It's petty and I'll probably hear about it, but fuck it; I don't care.

Jason barely manages to hold back a giggle. It was bad enough when Liam just bit him, but the rumbling makes the tickling sensation even worse. Something tells me, though, that he won't be amused if I start laughing.

Finally Liam stops biting Jason and kneels up behind him, reaching for the lube. The mark is big and dark and completely unsubtle. "Mine," Liam growls yet again as he slicks up his cock. He thinks about just shoving into Jason but realizes that he'd rather not send him to Gabriel that sore. So instead he slicks up his fingers and slowly slides one into Jason. Let's see how soon you beg for more, lad.

Immediately Jason squirms back against Liam's finger. Jason's hungry, and he wants more, but he's not quite ready to beg for it. Not yet.

Taking his time, although what he really wants is to be pounding into Jason hard, Liam teases for a little while longer before easing a second finger into Jason. Suddenly realizing that he needs to hear Jason beg because he needs to know that Jason still wants to be here, he pauses for a second before crooking his fingers, raking them across Jason's prostate. He knows bloody well that what a man says when he wants to be fucked doesn't mean that he's content with his life in general, and yet Liam still needs to hear it.

Jason tilts his head back, groaning softly. He wants Liam in him, and it's taking all of his control to keep from screaming and begging Liam to fuck him hard. Is this what they mean when they talk about breaking someone? he wonders. Is that what happened earlier? He only has a second to consider it before Liam's fingers are touching his prostate, and Jason howls: "Please, Master!"

"Yeah?" Liam growls. "You want me lad? Want me to fuck you into the mattress?" Want me to keep you forever? Liam's not sure where that thought came from and he instinctively shies away from it, choosing instead to twist his fingers inside Jason one more time.

"God yes, Master! Please...need you in me, please...want it so bad..." Jason's almost sobbing now, arse clenched tight around Liam's fingers.

"Who do you belong to lad?" Liam demands as he moves into position behind Jason. "Who fucking owns you?"

"You, Master--I'm yours." Now will you shut up and fuck me already?

Wrapping on arm around Jason's waist, Liam pulls him back onto Liam's cock. "Mine," he growls, once he's buried in Jason's body. "Fucking mine." He sits back then, pulling Jason onto his lap, reaching up to play with one of Jason's nipple rings.

Jason leans back against Liam, melting into him. It feels good, and right, and for once Jason isn't trying not to think of anything. It's all about Liam's fingers, dexterous for all that they're as big as the rest of him, playing with Jason's sensitive nipples, all about Liam's cock filling him.

Still feeing possessive but no longer feeling a need to demand reassurances from Jason, Liam just lets himself enjoy this moment. It's rare not to be needing something more but right now, he's fucking Jason hard and there's enough. He slows a bit, wanting to make it last, his lips and teeth exploring the back of Jason's neck. "So goddamned good," he moans, not really aware that he spoke aloud.

Jason feels the words more than he hears them, whispered hot against his neck. He wants to respond somehow, but he doesn't know what to say other than the word he swore never to speak in Liam's presence. He settles for thrusting his hips back against Liam and saying quietly, "Yours, Master. Your boy. Your slave."

"Mine," Liam replies but there's less anger than there usually is although he's just as insistent. He wants something again, something he can't say right now with tomorrow looming over them, and he doesn't know that he'll ever be able to say. Instead of making him angry, it makes him a little wistful and he keeps up the slow steady pace, his hands moving restlessly over Jason's chest.

It's good. It's comfortable, having Liam inside him and fucking him in a way that's almost gentle by Liam and Jason's standards. Jason knows that he should resent this--Is he trying to tell me that he thinks I can't take the rough stuff any more?--and maybe he will. Later. For now he's content to move with Liam, matching the other man's leisurely rhythm.

Finally Liam can't stand it any more and he moves harder, his hand sliding down Jason's body. He pumps Jason's cock in time with his own thrusts and pulls hard at a nipple ring. "Come with me, lad," he growls in Jason's ear. "Come with me ... fucking buried in ... you." And that thought is what does it; with one last hard thrust, Liam comes, his hand tightening painfully on Jason's cock.

Like everything else that night, Jason's orgasm takes him by surprise; he hadn't expected Liam to let him come, not after everything that's happened. He's not about to argue with it, however, and with a hiss from between clenched teeth, he comes into Liam's hand.

"Jaysus," Liam moans against Jason's back. "Fucking Christ...." He's tired now and there's too much to think about and oh fuck does he want a drink. But this is good, better than it probably should be and he pulls Jason back against him and just holds the other man close. I don't want this. I don't want to miss you when you go. Normally the thought would make him angry, but now if just makes his arms tighten a little around Jason's waist.

"Mmmm." That's as articulate as Jason can manage. He wriggles a little, settling himself in the circle of Liam's arms. "Thank you, Master," he mumbles in a voice already thick with sleepiness.

"Don't be so lazy, lad. Off," Liam says, his voice lacking the growl he'd normally put into it. "Go get me something to wash up with."

"Yes, Master," Jason replies, carefully hiding his grin. Disentangling himself from Liam, he gets up and pads into the bathroom, returning with a damp washcloth which he presents to Liam.

"May I sleep in here tonight, Master?" Jason suspects that the answer is yes, but he doesn't want to ruin the relative peace they've achieved tonight by presuming.

Cleaning himself up, Liam nods. "Where in hell else would you sleep, lad?" He goes into the bathroom and removes his contacts, muttering, "Stupid fucking boy," loudly enough that Jason can hear him. This is twisted as all fuck, he thinks as he returns to the bedroom. Can't you just say ... fuck. No I can't say any of it.

Silently he climbs into bed.

Jason gets into bed and closes his eyes, breathing slowly and evenly as though he were asleep when Liam climbs in beside him.

Love you, too, Master.

To Be Continued...