AN: Prompt for this story was taken from a 50 Prompt table from a 100_Prompt community on Livejournal. It was just something I decided to borrow for some inspiration. This story has been beta'd by the wonderful and kind MurasakiB on FFNet.
Please beware that there may be slight spoilers concerning recent chapters.
He had long become used to intimate touches. The slither of a gloved hand across his cheek, the press of sinuous breasts against his sides and the heated caress of a lustful hand trailing down his back were all familiar to Jack. He had long schooled his childish reaction to flush and recoil from darkened eyes and seeking lips that licked and bit into his skin as if he were a morsel to be consumed.
Yes, Jack Vessalius was well versed in the perversion of the human body since Lacie had left him.
Yet that was neither here nor there as he continued to bask in the spring sun from where he reposed. He had come to visit Oswald or Glen as he was now known, but the master of the Baskerville clan was away on business and left him with nothing else to do but to bother Lottie. The girl had stormed off moments ago, her lovely face flushed with mortification and anger when Jack had finally managed to steal at kiss from her.
He chuckled fondly to himself in remembrance though his cheek still smarted. Women were always so trivial about such things like first kisses. Always romanticizing things when the truth of the matter was, nothing would be what they would imagine it to be. Truthfully, Lottie really didn't have the right to be angry, Jack mused as he touched his wounded cheek. He had given her the perfect setting: a bright and beautiful spring day, the birds singing above them in the trees and the plentiful flowers of the Baskerville garden in bloom all around them.
It was the fairy tale scenery in which the handsome prince would confess his feelings for his destined princess and slowly leaned in to seal their vows with the first kiss.
Wasn't that what all young maidens wished for and hadn't he given that to her?
Ah, Jack thought, smiling as he let out a sigh and rested an arm across his eyes to shield away the now burning sun. Maybe I'm not the prince she wanted to kiss her.
Perhaps her prince was not blond in hair color but black as night instead. Her prince would be dignified, poised, and regal, with an air about him that silently called those around him to attention. Her prince would have eyes of violet, piercing as they gazed into you, rendering you completely defenseless as they pried open every secret you wanted to hide. When her prince spoke, oh when he spoke, Jack was certain you would hear no other sound.
What a terrifying man Lottie's prince was.
He wasn't exactly sure when he had fallen asleep where Lottie had left him: on his back with an arm across his eyes. He probably would have continued on in his slumber were it not for the sure sound of clothing brushing against the foliage and footsteps coming his way. He stayed still, wondering if it was Lottie coming back to check on her dejected prince. The thought made Jack laugh internally and, unable to help himself, he peeked from under his arm to see if it really was the young woman.
What he saw was not the skirt tails of the blonde Baskerville but the unmistakable end of the black cloak that adorned her master, Glen Baskerville. Unsure of how long he had exactly fallen asleep to not know when Glen had returned, Jack stayed motionless aside from the rise and fall of his chest to indicate that he was still in deep sleep. It was rare to have Glen come searching for him and it brought about a pleasing stirring in Jack's gut as he let his eyes drift close once more.
Jack had long started playing a solo game of hide and seek. He would often visit the Baskerville estate and instead of instantly searching for Glen, he would embark on little ventures around the premises. There were times where he would find Lottie and take pleasure in teasing the young woman or stumble upon Fang to partake in some sword play and other times chasing Gilbert and Vincent around. It all ended the same when he would either start to wonder if Glen would ever come find him or his companions would suggest he go find their master.
It was often Gilbert who would suggest that. The boy adored his master as much as he did his brother and it warmed, tore, something in Jack's heart and he couldn't help, but wonder what it felt like to be loved like that.
The rustle of cloth made Jack open his eyes once more from thought and he felt Glen's presence at his side, the other man's mantle folding over Jack's right thigh when its owner knelt. Curious now, Jack watched silently, straining to hear when Glen's voice muttered something that didn't quite reach his ears. He continued on with his façade as Glen's hand reached out, long elegant fingers brushing against his hand to pick up the ends of his plait that curled around his body.
He very nearly lost his breath, forgetting to feign sleep when Glen's hand tightened around the golden braid and he leaned down to press his lips against Jack's hair. Emerald eyes widened under Jack's arm as Glen's lips continued to caress the strands of hair. He could feel an odd flush spreading across his face and down his neck. Jack was thankful of his arm and collar that hid their color from the dark violet eyes that remained open as his friend brought his captured braid up higher to press his nose against it.
Jack couldn't quite understand why he was reacting in such a manner. Being no virgin to signs of lust, he was used to others handling his body. His mouth had been pressed open by greedy mouths, tongue and far worse and his hair was often a tool for some of his more eager lovers to restrain or command him.
Yes, Jack was no stranger to the lust of the human body, but how was it that something so innocuous could cause his skin to burn like a boy being caught watching a girl bathe, his stomach to knot ten times over and his heart to stutter and ache? How could his body feel as if something precious was stolen from it by those lips?
Ah, Jack thought, trying to calm his heart and cool his body as Glen finally released his hair and his hold on Jack. What a terrifying man Glen Baskerville is.
He sensed more than see Glen rising from his side, the other man's mantle still brushing against his thigh as he stood. There was a shuffle of cloth and Glen's shadow moved away leaving him under the warm rays of the sun once more as Jack schooled his body back to normalcy. He would have succeeded in putting out the flame that had spread across his body until he heard Glen's voice: soft, deep and knowing.
"How long are you planning to play the part?" Glen solicited, turned slightly and watching patiently as Jack's body stiffened.
Swallowing thickly, heart palpitating quickly, Jack took a deep breath trying to be normal as he pushed himself up. He could feel the blush on his face deepen as he caught Glen's gaze trying to ignore how soft those violet eyes were, how fascinated he was by Jack's reaction.
"You could have let me know you knew I was awake, Glen!" Jack accused, unable to do anything more than to sit up, his knees strangely weak.
Glen was like a stain of pure black against the green of spring as he turned his head to the side briefly, ruminating Jack's words.
"You seemed content enough to remain as you were." Glen noted, and then violet eyes slid back over to where Jack lingered on the grass and Jack could almost see the mirth in those irises. "And I assumed it was the prince's duty to awake the princess with a kiss, like in those stories you seem so fond of to read to Lily."
When Jack was unable to find his voice to answer, Glen prodded. "Was I wrong?"
There weren't many who ever came face to face with Glen's playful side and there were times where Jack lamented the thought. The Master of Baskerville could be wickedly mischievous when his servants were not around and it took a keen eye to see the subtle changes in those violet eyes. Jack knew Glen was teasing him and a small part of him basked in the knowledge that Glen was letting go of the weight of his responsibilities just for a moment even if it was at his expense.
"Clearly, Glen, I am obviously not a princess!" Jack responded, still struggling to control the beating of his heart and the heat on his face. His knees were still too gelatinous to support him.
"Hm. The response is the same." Glen remarked, pulling his mantel close as he turned to observe Jack from the corner of his eyes, taking in the flushed look with veiled amusement. "You act as if I had stolen your first kiss."
Glen turned away then to make his way back towards the main estate knowing full well his friend would follow him after he gathered his wits. Left alone, Jack brought a hand up to clutch at his chest, willing his still thumping heart to slow down.
First kiss, huh. Jack considered. He exhaled loudly and released a brief shaky laugh, sliding a hand through his hair. "What a terrifying prince, indeed."
Finally able to stand, Jack allowed himself a moment for his heart to slow down. Then he set about chasing after Glen Baskerville to reprimand him on how cruel it was to steal a slumbering maiden's first kiss.