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Lesson One: Seen and not heard

Title of overall story: Curriculum Vitae: Sixty Nine Lessons For Sebastian Roth (origionally for smut_69)
Title of chapter: Lesson one: Seen and Not Heard
Prompt: 1. Moan
Rating: Nc-17, I write porn
Author: The prime minister, no me you idiots
Fandom: Labyrinth
Pairing: Jareth/Origional Male (the anti-sue)
Summery: Sebastian Roth is a nineteen year old prostitute, and a mentally unstable drug user plauged by visisions he doesn't understand, he's also, rude, self-centered, cowardly, and a bit of a bitch. Jareth intends to break him of these bad habits. In this chapter we umm get introduced to everything, whee, introductions
Warnings: Slash (if that bothers you in this community lord help us), light bondage, sex (OMGZ!!!!) unbetadness
Table: http://madam-mew-mew.livejournal.com/69388.html (not much on it yet)
Legal: No Jareth doesn't belong to me, however I do have him chaind up in my basment right now, and intend to fo and commit unspeakable acts with him as soon as I finish entertaining you people, and no I'm not sharing... er what I mean is Jareth, the labyrinth, and all appertinances there of (hereafter reffered to as snookums) are not mine, however Sebastian, and all original, thoughts, concepts, ideas, fine china in the fic are mine, also the sex is mine... yes... yes it is, so umm, don't sue me.

Curriculum Vitae: Sixty Nine Lessons For Sebastian Roth

Lesson One: Seen and Not Heard

His name is Angel, how cliché, he’s nineteen, beautiful and almost crazy, but not quite yet, it’s incredible how he’s clung to his tattered sanity, though he’s never been quite right.

Most people go mad, most people go mad, or become junkies, which is rather like madness, and he‘s half way to both, but not quite there yet. He’s still himself, which is shocking. He’s a prostitute, and he never really talks to anyone, except himself, and a little old woman named Delores Watching him is like watching a statue, he’s so very still sometimes.

Jareth knows all this, watches, and waits. It’s not love, or even close, but it’s something, warm and insistent with in him.

He always destroys the things he loves, always, and Angel, the cliché, nineteen year old prostitute is no different.

His name isn’t really Angel, but no one in the city where he lives knows what he’s really called. Jareth knows, but Jareth only watches him, haunts him, but that’s all going to change tonight.

Angel falls asleep in front of the television, his slim body, slumping into the armchair where he‘d been watching television, and Jareth watches almost tenderly, fingers like a warm breeze brushing his face, before the windows fly open, and laughter sounds. Jareth, feels the transfer coming, and inhales deeply before it comes, relaxing into the shift.

Sebastian Roth, the nineteen year old’s real name, stirs on the bed, yawning and stretching before his eyes open, it’s another moment before his expression goes from one of dreamy comfort to one of shock and disbelief, not that he hasn’t woken up in other worlds before, but this is different. He leaps from the bed, letting out a strangled cry, “Oh god, what’s going on, where am I, oh fuck, shit, damn it.”

Jareth rolls his eyes “My god you’re even worse than I though,” he drawls.


“Oh never bloody mind, just shut up.”

Sebastian cowers a bit on the bed, frightened, and unsure of what the hell is going on.

“Sebastian,” purrs Jareth, pulling him rather roughly off the bed by his hair.

“Yes…” he answers, his eyes darting wildly around the room, as if looking for a route of escape that doesn’t exist.

“Sit down, shut up, and listen to me, will you, Sebastian, I intend to explain maters to you, so that you’ll keep that rather fascinating mouth of yours shut for a moment, I have the worst headache I’ve had in centuries, and most of it’s your bloody fault.”

Sebastian nods in agreement, hoping to perhaps appease the avenging god in front of him, because that’s how he appears, with his mane of white hair, inhumanly beautiful features, and dark lined eyes. Jareth sighs petulantly, and tosses Sebastian on to the bed.

“You’re damnably pretty,” says Jareth, his voice exhausted “honestly, though someone ought to teach you a few lessons in manners.”
Sebastian nods dazedly.
“Maybe so…”
Jareth glares.
“Don’t interrupt me, love, it’s an awfully stupid thing to do, I suppose I’ll have to teach you a few lessons myself, anyway, you’re in The Labyrinth, not that you have any idea what that means yet, and I am Jareth, the king of… well, almost everything around here, and you, my dear, Sebastian are here to satisfy me, and me alone, don’t do anything stupid, and keep your mouth shut, do you understand?”

Sebastian simply nods, and attempts (unsuccessfully) to hide behind one of the bedposts.
“Don’t be such an ass, pet, stand up and let me look at you.”

Sebastian gets up reluctantly, he’s still wearing his coat, and the clothes his last client wanted to see him in. The dress is and orange vinyl shift, that stands out bell shaped from his slim body, it’s trimmed at the neck and hem with white ribbon, and a strip runs down the front, with it, there’s the jaunty orange sherbet colored pill box hat, and the mile high platform heels that do unbelievable things to the smooth contours of his long legs. Jareth’s lips quirk in an amused smile.

“You do make quite a nice picture all got up like that,” he says musingly, gazing at the face made up in pale lipstick, and thick cat eye sweeps of liquid liner, the silky dark hair worn center parted and to his chin, all very pretty, all very pretty and wearing a sulky pout, that made the entire package that much more appealing.

Sebastian, just beginning to grasp the game, nods in agreement, this is really, really not a time he should be getting hard, but he’s finding it difficult not to.

Jareth smiles sensing his discomfort.

“Strip,” he commands, and then watches with cool disinterest, as Sebastian awkwardly undresses, his eyes occasionally flicking up to meet his mocking smile. Fear mingles with his arousal, the room of the floor is tiled in black and white, the vast dark metal bed is draped in black and white, even Jareth is decked in a gray silk dressing gown, embroidered in black, except for the dress crumpled on the floor, there’s not a speck of color in the whole room.

“Sit on the bed, and don’t move,” says the goblin king coldly, picking a strip of black silk up off the marble and wrought iron end table, and shoving it roughly between the Sebastian’s lips, and securing it behind his head, with that he steps back to disrobe, the dressing gown falling almost fluidly to the floor, revealing a slender, beautiful body, he cups Sebastian’s face in one elegant hand.

“Do you know what I’m trying to teach you now, Sebastian?”

Sebastian shakes his head, as the other man leans in dangerously close to his face.

“I’m trying to teach you, my dear Sebastian, that you should be seen and not heard.”

Sebastian nods, earning him a pat on the head from Jareth,

“Very good, eventually we might even stop using the gag,” he comments, and Sebastian can feel him achingly hard against his stomach as he straddles him.
Jareth grabs lube from the side table, and thrust his fingers forcefully into Sebastian, who winces and bucks his hips in a mixture of pleasure and pain.
“Am I hurting you?” Jareth says, his voice is mocking, and cold, Sebastian is too caught up in the sensation of those slick, skillful fingers inside him, to respond.

He tilts his head back, gazing into the ornate white stone ceiling high over head, decorated with elaborate carvings of mythical creatures, or what one would think of as mythical creatures, if one had not just been introduced to the king of the goblins.

“Lay back,” rasps Jareth, his fingers suddenly digging into the other man’s shoulders. Sebastian doesn’t struggle, he’s too used to being here to have a need to struggle, not only that, but he doesn’t particularly want to struggle.

“Very good,” says Jareth, smiling wolfishly. Sebastian attempts to say something, he’s not exactly sure what, but is comes out as a gurgle.
“Did you have something to say, Sebastian?”

He nods, spreading his legs wider, to allow the other man easy entrance to his body.

“You know, I might be forced to reconsider this lesson, I think I might almost enjoy hearing you, I expect you moan quite nicely when used correctly, shall I remove the gag then?”
Sebastian nods, eager to please, eager to avoid whatever horrible fate awaited if he didn’t cooperate, and eager to have the threatening, but beautiful Jareth, and soothe his painful arousal. Jareth pulls the gag harshly away, leaving Sebastian with an aching jaw, and an even more overwhelming sense of urgency.

“Please,” he begs, almost pathetically needy caught between Jareth’s legs.

Jareth gazes down, from his place straddling Sebastian, who’s name he’s already mentally shortened to Bastian.
“Please what, love?”

“Please, fuck me… Jareth,” he barely breathes the last word, and insurance policy against having to wait another moment.

“That’s better,” he purrs silkily, as he slips himself inside the other man. Sebastian swears he can see stars when he first feels the other man’s cock penetrate the tight ring of muscles that opens into ecstasy. Jareth’s hard eyes, seem almost tender as they gaze down on his prey, because he is prey, sex is always a game of cat and mouse for him, and it just happens to be a game he’s very, very good at.

“Now, if you’re good, and keep quiet until I say so, you might get to come, however, disobey me, and there will be consequences, and it will not be pleasant.”

Sebastian nods, and Jareth thrusts hard into him, he winces a little, but keeps silent. Clients enter slowly, savoring every moment of their high priced time with him, but Jareth, Jareth is all consuming, and takes him all at once.

Hard eyes watch as the brunette’s head lolls lazily back, and his eyes close like a happy cat’s. Jareth, ever the sensualist, enjoys this little indulgence, seeing what he does to this beautiful creature, real, and warm, and alive, his heart beating like the wings of a humming bird in his chest, waits a moment for that lean body to adjust before me moves again. He is gentle, in his way, gentle as he wakes every nerve in Sebastian’s body, just touching him.

Jareth appreciates beautiful things, appreciates the elegant lines of the other man’s face, the full, just slightly pouty lips, the frightened doe’s eyes, the high cheekbones, and the masterfully made jaw, appreciates even the breathy little sigh he just hears as he drives in again, enjoying the sensation of those tight muscles clamping around his cock.

Sebastian arches, eyes wide, body taut as a bowstring, and Jareth’s mouth goes dry. It’s been awhile since he got off properly, he’s been in a mood lately, and then there was the west wing of the castle needing repairs, it’s occasionally like that, too busy, and too sullen to sate his needs. Though, now that he’s finally gotten his hands on Sebastian, he gets the sense that very little will get in the way of his needs being sated.

His rhythm is steady, even, and just slow enough for him to detect a spark of desperation in the other man’s eyes.

“Want some thing, don’t you?” he says, trying not to choke on his words “tell me what it is then, pet, and I’ll see what I can do.”

He can see Sebastian swallow, as his tongue flicks over full lips, searching for words.

“Faster,” he pleads, as Jareth pins his hands and gives him a wicked grin.

“You want me to go faster, love?”

“Please,” says Sebastian, any thought of pride falling away in terror and lust, and thankfully, Jareth smiles, and ups the tempo, pounding harder, faster, into Sebastian, tilting the other man’s hips until he finds his sweet spot. Sebastian, bites his lower lip hard, trying not to release the low groan settled uncomfortably in the back of his throat.

Jareth would normally say something, but he can’t, he can only grunt, and moan, and occasionally swear under his shallow breath.

Sebastian is alive, his entire body electrified by the beautiful, otherworldly creature currently completely engaged in fucking him better than anyone he’d had before.

The entire world seems to glitter with shards of mirror glass, and spinning like a drunken carousel.

Jareth moves fluid and graceful, thrusting deep, breathing hard. Sebastian, his junkie angel, is so goddamned tight, so goddamned tight, thoughts blur, and fall away entirely, leaving him with nothing but instinct, and sensation.

“Fucking say something,” he growls, wanting to hear the pretty whore’s voice, needing it, his entire body burning, and begging for release. Sebastian opens his mouth, almost tentative, and moans, long and low, and more incredibly sensual than any sound before “Jareth.”

That’s it, Jareth is lost, no turning back now. That always gets him, when they say his name, but this time, this is more than that, Sebastian’s goddamn pretty, purring, soft fucking voice, moaning those two syllables, is more than he can bear. He grabs him by the hair, and drags him into a fierce kiss.

He tastes like strawberries, and American cigarettes, and whiskey, he would, cheap little twat, cheap little twat currently driving Jareth absolutely wild with need, but still.

Sebastian’s mouth is coated in lipstick, and the image of it smeared across his face, with his big gray eyes staring almost innocently up at him, makes Jareth moan.

Sebastian can’t pull his eyes away from Jareth, after their lips part, everything about him, is too much of a fucking turn-on, all distant, and inhumanly beautiful, and clearly loving every minute he spent between his legs. Jareth is in no position to argue with that statement, every time the other man moves, even the slightest bit, his breath catches in his throat, and his brain seems to make less and less sense, he’s such a perfect bottom too, all need, and desperation, and Jareth likes it when they like it, strokes his vanity, pleases his ego, turns him on more than anything should have a right to.

Sebastian’s dyed black hair fanned on the pillow, and the lipstick smeared just as he’d imagined, a pink stain on the pale skin, debauched, and angelic, and so extraordinarily sexy it’s just a matter of time before he can’t hold back any longer.

His lips part again, gasping, and Jareth thrusts, and hits his prostate with particular accuracy, makes him moan, and whimper soft pleasure noises, and that’s that, it’s seconds before Jareth’s filling him with hot seed, which does it for Sebastian who comes with a low groan, spilling, thick and warm over both of them.

Jareth moans softly, as he pulls his softening cock out of the other man. Sebastian yawns sleepily snuggling instinctively close to Jareth’s warmth in the bed. Jareth is almost surprised, and almost considers tossing him from the bed for such disrespect, but his warmth makes him drowsy, and he nods off, with Sebastian in his arms.


( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Nov. 11th, 2007 01:30 pm (UTC)

That was unbelievably... hot.

Sigh... Jareth. Can I have him after you're done in your unspeakable acts?

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )


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