Fade into You: Chapter 11 - I'm Already Lost
The music of the forest that carried Sarah off to sleep rocked her in its hold throughout the night. The dawn was suddenly bright behind her closed eyelids as cheerful birdsong dragged her back into consciousness. She lay disoriented for a nebulous stretch of time before becoming aware of the sensation of fingers flexing between her own. Warmth stretched across her side, and she could hear gentle breathing near her ear. She opened her eyes and looked down, melting a little to see Jareth's head nestled beneath her chin. His silver-gold hair framed his sleeping face, and his dark lashes fanned sharp cheekbones as his eyes moved delicately through a dream behind his lids.
As the previous night poured back into her mind, so did an overwhelming affection for him. Jareth was as lovely in the filtered morning light as he had been the night before—loving her as best he knew how. And more than that, he felt good, pressed to her. Familiar. As if this was one morning among hundreds in which they had awoken like this.
Sarah's heart quickened as he began to stir. Finding her fingers already in his hair, she stroked his head while he murmured wordlessly into her neck.
Jareth abruptly stilled mid-stretch. The arm spanning her torso and the leg possessively linking them together lay lax on top of her once more, but she could tell by the change in his breathing that he was awake. She could almost feel the wheels in his head turning as he slowly realized where he was and who he was holding. She smiled as his chin tipped up, and his sleepy, blinking blue eyes sought hers.
"Hey, Bear," he said after a beat, assessing her with a seriousness that contrasted so dramatically with his frantic bedhead that Sarah laughed in spite of herself.
"Veto," she told him simply before embarking on a mission to smooth his hair.
"Didn't like that one?" Jareth asked, mischief flashing in his eyes. "So, Bear-ah is off the table as a nickname? I was thinking, 'Hey, Bear-ah' was—"
Sarah groaned, though her smile didn't waiver. "Absolutely not."
"Sarah Bear, then." He sounded decided, as if arriving at the moniker had been a collaborative choice. "It's settled."
She hummed noncommittally, untangling a knot and starting on another before deciding it was a bigger project than one hand could properly address at the moment. When she tucked the unruly mass of it behind his ear, it immediately sprang forward, his lion's mane somehow shaggier than ever. He watched her, amused, as she patted the side of his head. "You know what? It's perfect as it is."
"Thank you for your concerted efforts, regardless of its questionable perfection," he said, a smile stretching.
Sarah smiled back at him, her palm resting against his face. "So," she ventured. "We're snuggling, apparently."
Jareth squeezed her fingers. "Apparently."
Her maybe-dream from the night before whispered his words back to her.
Precious, I hope you still reach for me.
She scanned his face. "Did I—"
"You did." Jareth brought her hand to his mouth, and her breath caught as she followed the movement. She released it in a small sigh as his lips brushed her knuckles. "Your hand was searching. When it found mine, you pulled me to you."
Her gaze lifted from his lips—still ghosting kisses across her skin—to his eyes. Eyes that waited for her, encouraging her to acknowledge that she wanted more. Perhaps even while awake.
"I see you, Goblin King," Sarah told him sternly. "You think you're so slick with the barely-there kisses. Well, I've got news for you." She paused to lift their hands to her mouth and pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb. "You are. It's lovely."
She stretched and rolled to her knees, crawling to the tent flap to unzip the opaque lining. It was warm in the tent already, nearly uncomfortably so.
"But you were just dreaming," Jareth supplied.
Sarah looked over her shoulder at him as she maneuvered the zipper around the door. "I wasn't going to say that."
He said nothing, but there was a challenge in the curl of his lips.
Sarah met it with her own cheeky smile. "I'm not dreaming now," she pointed out as she crawled back toward him.
Jareth sighed and pulled back the top of the sleeping bag, inviting her to fill the space between his outstretched arms. Sarah settled at his side and rested her head on his shoulder. Her arm slipped across his torso, and she laced her fingers with his. Jareth's foot hooked around her calf, urging her to stretch it over his thighs. She did, scooping him closer with her leg and molding herself to him in a near-perfect imitation of how he had held her through sleep.
He kissed her forehead, and his lips hovered there as he asked, "How are you feeling this morning?"
She considered the question, taking inventory of her body. Her feelings. "Loved," she confided.
"You are," Jareth swore before peppering her hairline with kisses.
"I know," she said, squeezing him close. "And so are you."
In this way, Sarah found the strength to name feelings without speaking the words. She'd tried once before and knew this wasn't the time to try again. He deserved his own moment, unshadowed by her heartbroken tears.
"Thank you," she said instead. "For everything."
"I'll always take care of you, Sarah," Jareth swore, his lips moving in her hair. "Tell me you know that."
"I do," she confided, pulling their hands to rest over his chest so she could examine his long fingers. "I've known that for a long time. I just didn't see it."
Jareth stroked her hair, and Sarah could feel him watching her as she stretched out each of his digits for perusal.
"Jareth," she asked, her brows pulling together as she looked up at him. "How can I take care of you?"
"You already do, Sarah Bear," Jareth told her, stretching her furrowed brows apart between a thumb and forefinger. "You're honest with me. I won't ask for anything else from you."
Part of her wanted to argue, to tell him he should ask more of her. That he deserved to. But she decided to allow herself to receive this permission from him. Permission to not owe him anything other than the truth.
A gentle breeze flowed through the tent, and they sighed simultaneously as it cooled their warm bodies. They lay in comfortable silence for a time while she played with his hand—pinching each fingertip.
"Such a sleepy thing," Jareth commented quietly, and Sarah realized she had dozed off. "You're so sweet like this."
"I like to think I am always sweet," Sarah mumbled against his shoulder.
Jareth chuckled. "You would, would you?"
"Mmm," she agreed. "How long was I out?"
"A little over an hour," he informed her, the hand in her hair stroking idly. "I kept a dutiful watch."
"Best bear point person around," Sarah declared, propping up on her elbow and smiling down at him. "We should get up."
Jareth pouted and tugged her back down. "Don't take this moment from me."
"Come on," she urged, resisting his clutching. "It's about to get unbearably hot in here."
"Empty promises," he groused with a smirk.
Sarah ignored that, but she could feel the sly smile back on her face. She rummaged in her duffel bag and told him, "You can get dressed in here. I'm going to find somewhere to change."
"How very puritan of you," Jareth said after a dramatic sigh.
When Sarah returned to the campsite a few minutes later, she was greeted by curses and the sound of Jareth floundering with the tent flap zipper. "Let me out of this infernal prison!" he demanded. "It's hotter than the surface of the suns in here."
She unzipped the tent, laughing as he spilled out of it in a huff. "I did warn you," she reminded him.
Jareth glowered at her as he clambered to his feet. His light linen shirt clung to sweaty skin, and Sarah felt overcome with a sudden urge to peel it off him and taste the salt.
"Well," he said, tugging at the bottom of the untucked shirt and flapping it to encourage airflow. "I can't wait for the fire-building tutorial you undoubtedly have in store for me." His eyes narrowed. "Since you were so distracted yesterday."
Sarah rolled her eyes at the dig. "No fire this morning. We aren't staying close enough to the campsite."
He lifted a brow. "Oh?"
"I'm taking you somewhere special." She shouldered her backpack and took his hand. "Let's go."
Jareth trailed behind her down the hill. They stopped at the bear boxes, and Sarah stuffed snacks into her bag before handing him a poppyseed muffin. "This will have to do for breakfast since we aren't cooking."
They ate their muffins and brushed their teeth, Jareth with his back to Sarah as he did so. She noticed with a satisfied smirk that he had matched her toothpaste-to-bristles ratio this time.
He took the backpack from her as she led him to the mouth of a trail. "It's mostly uphill in this direction, but it's not too far," she advised. "It'll be nice and easy on the way back."
They'd been climbing the path for about thirty minutes before Jareth stopped. "Is that running water I hear?"
"I thought you might want to bathe," she supplied with a knowing smile.
"Good gods, yes," he said with a happy groan. "Though I do enjoy your current aroma. Stirs something primal in me."
Sarah blushed as they trekked closer to the sound, and the terrain changed as they went along. Instead of crumbling terraces of shale and tree roots, large limestone boulders kept them company. Berry bushes began to crop up, some soft and flowering, others thorny and menacing. Moving behind Jareth, she rummaged in her backpack and withdrew an empty thermos. "Help me pick some."
She pointed out the various kinds as they went, taking particular care to note the poisonous varieties. The container was full of blueberries, huckleberries, raspberries, and blackberries by the time the path opened up to reveal a crystalline pool cradled by smooth limestone. A small waterfall trickled over the rocks on the far side, feeding the pool with clear, fresh water.
"This is my spot," she announced, setting the berries on a rock near the water.
Jareth gazed around, wide-eyed. "It's beaut—" his words caught in his throat as Sarah wasted no time peeling off her shirt. He exhaled when he saw she was wearing a bikini top. "...iful," he finished, then added, "I have come woefully underprepared."
Sarah grinned as she stepped out of her shorts. "Don't worry," she told him. "I sneakily acquired a bathing suit for you at one of our stops." She dug in her backpack and handed him a pair of turquoise swim trunks plastered with neon yellow bananas. "Surprise."
Jareth pinched the article between thumb and forefinger as if it might bite him. "You're joking."
"Not in the slightest," she answered cheerfully, turning her back to him. She heard him sigh resignedly behind her and chewed her lip at the sound of his clothing hitting stone. "Decent?" she asked after a moment.
He made a rude noise. "Not the word I would have chosen, but I am appropriately covered for your delicate gaze."
When she turned around, she nearly choked on conflicting reactions. Jareth looked both stunning and absurdly anachronistic in his trunks. She'd never seen him shirtless, and he was more alluring than she had imagined.
He planted his hands on his hips and grinned wickedly at her as he asked, "Is that a banana on my trousers, or am I just happy to see you?"
Sarah blinked at him, grateful for the levity when faced with the reality of his near nakedness. "That's….Jareth, that was so bad I don't even know how to dignify it with a response."
He chuckled and sauntered over to her. "You like what you see," he observed before twirling in place, inviting her admiration.
Sarah shrugged, but she knew the smile on her face was wide and telling. "Maybe," she evaded, digging through her bag again and withdrawing a tube of sunscreen and a bottle of eco-friendly soap. She set the soap near the water by the berries and motioned for him to turn around.
His skin was warm and smooth under her hands as she rubbed sunscreen across his shoulders and back, paying particular attention to his neck and the tips of his ears. Reaching for his hand, she squirted some lotion into his palm. "Do the same for me," she instructed, turning around.
Jareth smoothed the cream over her skin, taking his time to knead her shoulders with strong hands. When he finished, she squirted more sunscreen into their palms. Jareth copied her as she applied it to her face and the front of her body.
He followed her into the pool and gasped at the frigid temperature. Sarah heard him issuing complaints as she submerged herself in the clear water. When she broke the surface, he was staring at her. "My brave Champion," he remarked admiringly, inching his way in after her.
"You know, I think that little red book was a misnomer," Sarah remarked. "We should retitle it to 'Brave Champion featuring Goblin King Cat Dad.'"
Jareth chuckled. "Curious about that, are you?"
The water lapped against their ribs where they stood, regarding each other.
"Of course, I'm curious about that," she told him. "I've been seething with curiosity, though I should probably call you a Creature Dad since you also have a rogue raccoon rampaging about your castle."
"Ah, Curd," Jareth acknowledged. "She's one of many."
"Raccoons?!" Sarah blurted.
His grin was teasing. "No, she is the only raccoon."
"Tell. Me. Everything," she demanded, poking him in the sternum with each word.
"Not ready to abandon last night's getting-to-know-you session, hmm?"
"Not in the slightest," Sarah answered. "How many animals live with you?"
Jareth laughed. "If they could speak, they would inform you that I live with them."
When Sarah just blinked at him expectantly, he said, "Well, there's Teacake, of course. You've already had the pleasure." He paused to wink at her before continuing to tick off names on his fingers. "Then we have Biscotti, Shortbread, Meringue, Tartlet, Pudding, and Egg Custard."
Sarah felt her eyes bug. "You…you have seven cats," she summarized flatly. "And they are all named after sweet treats."
"Oh, I don't have seven anything. I am but their humble servant," Jareth corrected with a bow. "And that's just the cats."
"Stop being withholding," she begged. "I'm going to explode."
He flicked water at her playfully and moved deeper into the center of the pool. "Toffee and Nougat are the resident skunks, constantly scurrying underfoot. Florentine, the fox, is mostly solitary, but she likes to sleep on my balcony during the day. Keeping Mousse out of my armoire is a constant battle—"
Sarah felt her eyebrows shoot up. "Hold on," she said, following him until their feet no longer touched the bottom. "A moose? In your armoire?"
"Mousse is a mink," he clarified with a grin. "And I almost forgot about the harpy eagle, Éclair."
Her mouth dropped open. "A harpy eagle?!"
"Oh, yes," Jareth confirmed, treading water in a slow ring around her. "He crossed back over into the Above once, back in the nineteen-sixties. Slipped right through when the barrier was thin, just as I was transporting a runner into the Labyrinth. He caused quite a kerfuffle in Point Pleasant, West Virginia."
Sarah gasped. "You're joking."
"Sadly, I am not," Jareth said, though he looked pleased by her reaction.
"You're telling me you share living space with seven cats, four exotic mammals, and the actual Mothman," she recapped.
Jareth huffed indignantly. "He prefers to be addressed as Éclair, but yes."
"Where do they come from?" Sarah asked.
He shrugged, but his eyes danced with hers. "Not all of the wished-aways are turned into goblins."
Not a lie, but not the truth, either. Sarah rolled her eyes and splashed him. "For someone who can't lie, you can be so full of shit," she told him. "None of the wished-aways are turned into goblins."
"Fine," Jareth conceded, still circling. "Once the children are placed in homes within fae society, my job is done. However, it didn't escape my notice that many of the neglectful homes the children come from have neglected animals as well."
"So, you steal people's pets," she supplied.
"I rescue them," he insisted. "Except for Teacake, whose origin is unknown. The dogs are loyal. They stay with their children. The cats tend to find their way to the castle eventually." When Sarah opened her mouth to speak he cut in. "Before you ask, I don't know why. They adore me for some unimaginable reason."
Sarah shook her head in disbelief. "You're the goddamn pied piper."
He barked a laugh. "In some tales, I am."
"Oh my god, who are you?" she demanded, torn between laughter and total information overload. "What about the others?"
A flash of resentment hardened his features. "I hesitate to call them pets, even in their previous lives in captivity. They are unable to survive on their own in the wild."
"Do they…" Sarah trailed off and rephrased her question. "Are they immortal now?"
"Not exactly," Jareth replied, a note of sadness coloring his tone. "Their lifespans are extended indefinitely once they reach adulthood if they haven't already. But they are still susceptible to injury and accidents."
She swam over to him and reached for his hand. "You love them."
"I do," he confessed. "The absence of my family is an ever-present dull ache, yet, I was so young. I did not know them in a way that could foster the kind of love you can touch, smell, hear…" He trailed off and seemed to reconsider his words. After a moment, he said, "I don't mean to compare the grief. I yearn for family. For connection. I miss what could have been. But the animals…." Jareth paused again.
It felt strange to press into something so personal. Foreign and forbidden. It threatened the rigid rules she had set in place years ago that she had just begun to allow herself to breach. The more she learned about him, the more endearing he became to her. She'd already known that Jareth was tender beneath the maddening mischief and frenetic energy, but hearing him speak of family and beloved pets was untapped intimacy she felt suddenly compelled to encourage.
"But the animals?" Sarah coaxed, lacing their fingers and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Those who have passed—" He broke off to clear his throat. "It's the closest thing to loss that I have experienced. A true loss."
"I'm sorry," she told him. "That must be so hard. I can't imagine losing an animal after loving them for decades or even centuries. I still grieve Merlin, and I was only able to love him for nine years before I lost him."
Jareth dropped her hand and pulled her into an embrace. It was awkward and unbalanced as they kicked their feet to stay afloat. "Stop apologizing to me," he said. When he pulled back, he was smiling again. "Ask me about something else. Surely there's more you are curious about."
"You're not wrong," she admitted over her shoulder as she cut her way through the water towards the outcropping of limestone slabs where she had put their berries. Finding her favorite natural bench—a smooth scoop of rock about a foot below the surface—she took a seat and sent him a pleased smile. "My throne."
"It's marvelous," he complimented, making his way over to where she sat. He stopped a few feet in front of her before the water became too shallow. He sank down to his chin, and his hair fanned around his shoulders as he peered at her over the surface. "So," he needled, dragging the word out.
Sooooo-o.
Sarah considered him for a long moment before asking, "Do you date?" She cursed herself immediately for her choice of words. They felt amateur and hollow in the context of a centuries-old fae.
He quirked a brow at her as though both surprised and impressed she had asked. "I've had lovers," he told her. "If you ask me if I have one now, it might break my heart."
Her own heart skipped a beat. "Would you tell me? If you did, I mean," she asked, then added quickly. "Not that you owe me that."
"I wouldn't," he answered, watching her guardedly.
"Fair enough," Sarah replied, though her stomach sank. "Like I said, you don't—"
"You misunderstand me, Sarah," he interjected. "I wouldn't take a lover. As you've pointed out, mortal lives are short. I'm not so insatiable as to be untrue to my heart during the time I have with you."
Her chest seized, suddenly too small a space to fit all her emotions. "That's hardly fair to you," she started to tell him. "Jareth, you can't just—"
"It's my choice," he said matter-of-factly, though his twinkling eyes spoke to a deeper feeling. "And as I've told you, it's enough. Whether we are lovers or not."
When he smiled at her, she felt her own lips tugging upward to match. She knew it was selfish of her to smile at that, but she couldn't help it.
A silence stretched, and Jareth's mouth spread into a knowing grin. After a moment, he asked, "What else would you like to know?"
"What qualities draw you to a partner?" she questioned abruptly, cursing herself again at her interviewer's tone.
Jareth chuckled. "That's easy enough to answer. Strong-willed. Brilliant. Funny." He shot her an impish grin. "Turgid nipples beneath a clingy, barely-there bathing suit."
Sarah cut her hand across the surface, sending a cascade of water down upon him. "Be serious."
He regarded her coolly as his now drenched hair plastered to the sides of his face and forehead. Leftover makeup from the previous day streaked down his cheeks in dark rivulets. "I've perhaps never been more serious, and as you know, I cannot lie," he told her, his voice low and full of nectar. "I'm drawn to you, Sarah. Like a fly to the weeping wound of a peach, rolled to a stop inches away from suddenly still fingers."
"Visceral," she commented after an exasperated sigh. Her heart betrayed her with a series of extra thuds.
Jareth stared at her from beneath his unfairly dark lashes, a smirk curling at his lips. "What about you, then?" he ventured. "What boxes must a partner check in order to meet your expectations?"
Sarah shot him a frosty look at the word expectations, and Jareth raised a brow at her. She huffed and considered the question before informing him, "Qualities and expectations aren't the same thing, Jareth."
"I'm listening," he said, in that quiet way he did when he wanted her to gain momentum and spill her guts.
"I'm not sure what qualities I would look for in a serious partner," she admitted with a shrug. "It's been a while since I've thought much about it."
Jareth kept his tone carefully neutral when he asked, "What's a while?"
Sarah searched his face for any signs of teasing. Finding none, she shrugged again and answered, "Years."
His eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean, years? Sarah, you've told me of partners—"
"No," she interrupted, holding up a hand. "I've had sexual partners. You've mentioned before how embroiled I've gotten in the past. I've taken on too much for the wrong people and lost myself. I forgot what I needed. Somewhere along the line, I decided I was done with that. I needed a break to figure my shit out." She paused and rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, don't act so shocked. You obviously would have known if I was seeing someone seriously."
"I didn't know you were on commitment strike," he told her. "I worried I'd overstepped when things ended poorly between you and he-who-I-will-not-name years ago. I assumed you decided to stop divulging details about your relationships with me."
"Nope," Sarah said, reaching for the thermos and pouring a palmful of berries into her hand. "There were no recent relationships to divulge. I mean, aside from Pete. But we weren't serious, and I only stayed interested as long as I did because we didn't have sex."
Jareth's brows shot up to his soggy hairline. "You claimed he was knowledgeable," he accused.
Sarah smiled at him guiltily. "Your question was not specific," she informed him. "I did tell you he hadn't touched me how…" she trailed off, her mouth having started the statement before her brain was ready to complete it. She popped a huckleberry into her mouth instead.
"How I touched you, you mean?" he finished for her.
"He was the first person I'd tried to date-date in a long time," she continued, ignoring his question. "And I trusted him. That was new. But I didn't really enjoy him. I was more disappointed in myself for that than I ever was with him."
Jareth hummed an acknowledgment before asking, "Why would sex have made you lose interest?"
"It's not that it would have made me lose interest," Sarah clarified. "I think it's more that I would have been faced with the reality of my lack of feelings much sooner. I don't want that kind of power over someone."
Jareth's carefully neutral tone was back when he questioned, "Was he in love with you?"
"I started to think so around the time I broke things off, yeah," Sarah answered with a frown.
"I see," Jareth said. He stood and walked over to where she sat before sinking down beside her. He took a blackberry from her fingers and pressed it to her lips until she parted them to accept it. "And your other partners over the years?"
Sarah gave him a long look as she chewed. She could feel her frown etching deeper. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"
He took a moment to consider, then replied, "Wanting to hear it and needing to know aren't the same thing, Sarah."
Her eyes widened at how smoothly he turned her own words around on her. She sighed and said, "I kept things casual. I think I got off on deliberately dating people I knew I couldn't trust. It was easier that way. I didn't have to try and trust them. No risk of getting hurt. No losing myself in someone else."
Jareth hummed again in understanding. "In essence, no one has power over you, Sarah."
She scoffed. "Can you blame me?"
"No," he said quickly. "I can understand it."
They sat in silence for a time. Sarah scooped more berries out of the thermos, only for Jareth to pluck them out of her palm.
"Anyway," Sarah continued. "I've spent enough time thinking about my past to have a pretty clear set of expectations for whoever is in my future: Don't bullshit me."
Jareth tossed a blueberry into the air, followed by a second and a third. "It sounds like you're asking for honesty," he said after catching them all in his mouth one by one. "Surely, that shouldn't be such a hard thing to promise."
"To be clear, I haven't hoped anyone would promise me anything for a long time," she told him. "But yeah, honesty. I'm not interested in being with someone I don't trust again."
"Noted," he said, fingertips poised at her lips with a raspberry. "And until then?"
"Until then…." Sarah mused, letting him push the berry into her mouth. "I masturbate." She gazed at him pensively for a long moment before adding, "A lot."
Jareth did too little, too late, to hide his shock at her disclosing such intimate knowledge. Sarah felt her thoughtful expression stretch into a grin as she studied his reaction. After a beat, he smiled back at her. A sense of relief hung around the pool as they sat there, exchanging grins and berries. Something had shifted in the atmosphere, a new layer of comfort settling between them.
"Resourceful," he complimented approvingly.
"Also, reliable, efficient," Sarah listed before tagging on, "and perfected."
"Perfected." Jareth raised an impressed eyebrow at her, his smile holding. "Congratulations, truly."
Sarah laughed and lifted her shoulders half-heartedly. "I'm just saying."
He sent her a look that said he was hanging on, anticipating the rest of her statement. When she only smirked secretively, waiting for him to ask, he did. "You are just saying, what, Sarah?"
She laughed again and rolled a blueberry across his lower lip. "You're trying to trick me into talking dirty to you," she accused, watching his lips close around the fruit. "Tell you every filthy detail."
Jareth cleared his throat in mock offense. "You just informed me that you have perfected the art of self-pleasure. Excuse me for incorrectly assuming you were willing to share your secrets."
"Maybe someday," she told him with a grin. "What about you? Have you figured it out yet?"
He looked suddenly stricken with remorse. "What if I sorrowfully reported that, no, I have not? That it's all just aimless fumbling around after all this time?"
Sarah patted his arm. "Then I'd tell you I was sorry to hear that and I sincerely hope you find the same luck I have."
"So generous," Jareth said with a chuckle. His eyes glittered as he confessed, "I've found it to be a convenient skill."
"Oh, a skill," Sarah remarked, suddenly unable to drag her eyes away from his astoundingly sensual hands. "Care to share any tips?"
He grinned. "That depends entirely on what sort of tip you're asking for."
Sarah snorted. "You know what I meant."
"I do," he admitted, booping her nose with a huckleberry. "And no, not at this time, but your interest in the matter is noted."
Sarah canted her head, her smile twisting into something new, something that made Jareth look nervous. "Interesting."
When she didn't continue, he mirrored her, his head cocking to the side. "Sarah," he said, his voice low and suspicious. "I know a setup when I see one."
"Ah." She smirked, tossing a berry in the air and missing it by a long shot. "Well-sussed."
Jareth huffed. "This is the part where I insist you tell me what is so interesting,"
Sarah examined a nail distractedly. "Oh, just casually documenting that you ask me questions you aren't willing to answer yourself." Her tone was light, non-accusatory, but pointed. She dropped her hand and looked at him expectantly.
The mood shifted again as Jareth seemed to reel from being the one so bluntly called out for once. They stared at each other in silence for a long moment.
"You're right," he finally said, his simple words surprising her after such a prolonged period of non-verbal communication.
Sarah passed him a small smile and shrugged dismissively as if the moment that had just come and gone didn't hold the significance that it did. As if it wasn't, in a small way, a test. She wondered at this calculated evaluation of trust. She could feel it, there, in the way she studied him, her brow furrowed in concentration. Like she didn't want to miss a clue.
She decided she hated the test, the guilt sinking in her belly, and the look she felt on her face. She trusted Jareth, and he had nothing to prove to her. She forced the expression from her face and laughed in that rare, self-deprecating way that always made Jareth's lips twitch. "Aaaaaaanyway," she said. "I think I have effectively reached my over-share limit for the day. I am cutting myself off."
"Sarah, you didn't over-share." He took her hand, pouring reassurance he somehow knew she needed into the touch.
She looked down at their berry-stained fingers, spreading hers to allow his to slip between them. "I mean," she looked up at him, deadpan. "I shared a lot."
"You did," Jareth agreed with an appreciative sigh. "It was unforeseen knowledge I feel privileged to now hold."
Sarah laughed, and it was a real laugh this time—relieved, comfortable—and he smiled at her as if he knew it. She wondered when he had become such an expert in discerning between her laughs as Jareth lazily stroked the top of her hand. They sat like that for a long span of time, warm in the sun. When she turned her head to meet Jareth's eyes, he was looking down at their fingers through heavy lids. He appeared almost sleepy, lulled by his own slow, repetitive caresses. She smiled at how serene he was, only moments away from a dream. The anxiety that had been close to surfacing within her sank back to the depths as she watched his eyes drift closed.
Her heart sped up as she stared, free to admire him without his watchful gaze. He was ethereal in the summer sunshine. So beautiful it was almost hard to process. His cheeks were stained with makeup—his eyes rimmed in dark kohl. Feeling a sudden need to touch him, she shifted towards him slightly and rested her free hand on his knee beneath the water.
Jareth tensed, and his eyes sprang open and found hers. When she kept her hand where it was and made no further move, he exhaled a slow breath and settled back against the rocks.
Another silence stretched. He'd abandoned stroking her hand, seemingly distracted, but still held it loosely in his. Sarah was about to ask Jareth what he was thinking about when he spoke.
"This is new for me," he said quietly. "Experiencing nature like this. To feel it, smell it, hear it—without magic. And last night, laying under your stars and witnessing the expanse of it." He sent her a smile. "It's good for me to feel small every once in a while."
Despite the fact that Jareth was lithe and only a few inches taller than her—on paper, not large—it was impossible for Sarah to imagine him as anything close to small. He filled every space he occupied to max capacity.
"That's how I feel around you," she told him.
His brows pulled together. "Small?"
Sarah's lip slipped between her teeth for a moment, and she shook her head before clarifying. "More like…that feeling of wonder at the infinity of everything. I've spent my whole life staring up into the night sky, grappling with the fact that Earth is just a single planet, in a solar system, in a galaxy, in a universe," she broke off, her eyes wide as a thought struck her. "Not to mention all of the various possibilities of life therein. As soon as I think I've managed to get a fragile grip on accepting all that, here you come, violently reminding me that life is beyond any understanding I thought I had."
Jareth beamed at her and searched her face with sparkling eyes. "I wonder if you realize how stunningly romantic that was, Sarah."
Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned in and brushed her lips near the corner of his. "It was, wasn't it?" she murmured. Her voice sounded alien to her own ears; low and husky.
She could hear him suck in a quick breath. Instead of pulling away, she trailed her mouth across his cheekbone to his temple and pressed a kiss there. His fingers were slack around hers, and she slipped her hand free. It traveled up his arm on its own accord, sliding into the wet hair at his nape.
Jareth was tense again as she tugged his head to the side and traced the shell of his ear with her tongue. His low purr sent heat flooding through her, and she felt emboldened to keep exploring. The hand on his knee moved up to his thigh, fingers teasing beneath the bottom of his trunks as she nibbled his earlobe. She hummed in satisfaction when he growled, tipping his head further to grant her access to his neck as her lips found his throat.
Sarah kissed there, softly at first, gauging his reaction. He whimpered at each contact, and she wanted to bottle the sound and drink it. His skin tasted of salt when she sucked his pulse point, and she felt thoroughly out of control to stop what she had started. Mostly because she in no way wanted to.
She slid her hand out from beneath his bathing suit and let it slide over the material toward the apex of his thighs.
"Sarah," he gasped as her hand cupped his bulge and squeezed gently. "I desperately want to ask what you are doing, but I'm even more desperately afraid you will stop if I do."
Her hand stilled, and she pulled back to look at him. He was hard under her soft touches but looked dazed and almost overwhelmed. "Should I stop?" she asked.
"You're the only one here who can answer that," Jareth told her, and It sounded almost like a prayer.
"Do you want me to stop?" Sarah clarified, feeling his cock flex in protest beneath her fingers.
"No," he rasped. "Unless you want to."
"I don't," she said, withdrawing her hands from him entirely and passing him a sly smile when he groaned at their absence. "Get up on that ledge."
Jareth looked behind him to where she'd gestured to a gradual slope of limestone that fed into the water. When he met her gaze again, his eyes were wide and searching. "You want me to…?"
Sarah nodded.
He did as he was told, pushing himself back and up onto the rock so his body was out of the water above mid-thigh.
Her hands landed on the tops of his knees and pulled them apart. She moved between them and kneeled in the shallow water. Her eyes found his as her fingers busied with the laces of his bathing suit. "Is this okay?"
"Yes," he croaked roughly.
His hand reached down to touch her cheek, and Sarah glanced at him, somehow surprised by the intimacy of it. Grounded by it. She kissed a fingertip and pulled it into her mouth. Jareth moaned as she sucked the digit. His hips lifted when she tugged his trunks down. The material of his bathing suit clung to his skin for what felt like torturous minutes before his cock was free, dark at the tip and wanting.
Sarah stared and felt no shame in doing so. Her eyes traveled up his body to take him all in. "God damn," she breathed, ghosting her hand over the length of him.
Jareth's finger slipped from her mouth and traced the shape of her lips. "It excites you, this little surrender," he observed, his own breaths coming quicker.
She knew he meant her surrender, but she laughed and said, "Jareth, you're not a conquest." An involuntary whimper escaped him as she paused her touches to consider. "I will admit, though," she mused, tracing a vein with her thumb and smirking as he shuddered. "It's surreal, touching you like this."
He chuckled—a low, rumbling thing. "You don't seem the least bit intimidated."
"If I were, do you think I would tell you?" Sarah teased. Her fingers slipped around him in a firm grip and stroked him steadily. "And threaten the comfortable delusion I have wrapped myself in that you couldn't tear me apart if you wanted to?" Her expression was playful, her eyes full of challenge and locked on his as she brought the flushed tip of his cock a breath away from her parted lips.
Another chuckle, more strained around the edges this time. "If that is something you worry yourself over, Precious, you've found yourself in a compromising position."
"That fucking name," she said, before pressing a kiss beneath the head of his cock. Her lips lingered, and she hummed, letting her voice vibrate against his skin. "As I've said, I'm not afraid of you, Goblin King," she added, reveling in his disbelieving grunt as she licked a stripe along his length with the flat of her tongue.
Before Jareth could respond, his cock was past her lips and in her mouth. He gasped. "I'm trying so hard to focus on what you're saying right now because it sounds"—he broke off into a mewl as she swirled her tongue around the ridge of his tip—"important, but gods, Sarah, your tongue…."
Sarah smiled around him, pleased with herself. "You said I was in a compromising position," she reminded him, rolling her tongue over a vein as if to prove him wrong. "I told you I'm not afraid."
He sucked in a breath. "I don't want your fear anymore."
She pulled off and leveled him with a hard, considering look. "Well, that was… loaded." Her hand continued to stroke him, slick with her saliva. When Jareth reached for her again, she danced away from him playfully and said, "So, without the fear me bit, we are left with…."
Jareth's hand moved over hers, stopping her movements. "Don't," he hissed, the urgency in his voice giving her pause. He must have seen the surprise in her expression because his features softened. He stroked the top of her hand. "If you are going to touch me like this, I don't want fear to have anything to do with it. I don't want what is happening right now to be about long ago words, spoken under completely different circumstances."
They stared at each other as Sarah weighed his words. And the words he'd stopped her from saying.
Love me, do as I say….
Silent acknowledgment of this seemed to pass between them, and Sarah sent him a crooked smile. "I appreciate that, but I can assure you. Your cock is about to be back in my mouth for no other reason aside from that I want it to be." Her fingers tightened around his shaft beneath his hand. "And I plan to get off really hard about it, too."
Jareth's head fell back, and he moaned, deep and uninhibited. The hand that covered hers slackened and drifted to her hair as she resumed pumping him slowly.
Her free hand cupped his balls and rolled them as her mouth found the head of his cock again, the flat of her warm tongue trailing around the tip. She drank in every whimper, every pant, and halted breath. Every tensing of his fingers in her hair. She was all subtle licks and kisses. Teasing, still. Until she wasn't. He made a strangled noise as she pushed the head into her mouth and sucked, massaging the underside with her tongue.
Sarah paused and waited for his eyes to focus on hers. When they did, she told him, "I want you to talk me off."
Jareth's hips bucked up, and his hand clutched at her hair almost painfully. "Fuck, sorry," he ground out between clenched teeth. "But you are actively testing my immortality."
She chuckled. "Don't apologize. I like it." She sucked his length, letting her teeth barely touch the tip before she pulled off and demanded, "Now do as I say."
He shuddered. "So cruel, Sarah."
"So I've been told," Sarah said before laying a kiss on his hip bone. "I'm waiting."
Jareth swallowed, and a rush of slickness pooled between Sarah's thighs as she watched the apple of his throat move. A heady moan tumbled from her lips that she did nothing to conceal, and Jareth sucked in a sharp breath.
"Gods, how I've dreamt of hearing that sound," he purred. "Touch your breasts for me, Sarah. Outside the fabric."
Sarah could feel the triumph on her face as her fingers moved to trail across her collarbone. Jareth watched her with rapt attention as they dipped lower and traced the cusp of a breast before squeezing it lightly. "Like this?"
"Like that," he agreed and gasped as the hand on his cock began to move again. "Graze your nipple. I want to see it stiffen under your touch."
Her palm ghosted circles over the peak of her breast, and she mumbled a curse as her sensitive nipple responded to the friction.
"Move the bathing suit," Jareth said, sounding more comfortable in his demands. His careful control was slipping, hips undulating, unchecked, while he watched her. "Show me."
Sarah slid her hand under the bikini top and brushed it aside. She let her breast fill her hand and jolted as her thumb rubbed over her hard nipple at a pace that matched the slide of her fingers on his cock.
Her name dripped with desire as it spilled from his lips like he'd said it just the same in his most private moments hundreds of times before. "I can smell you," he growled, nostrils flaring. "I've smelled you before, wanting me. Wanting this. Wanting more than this."
Another wave of heat crashed through her, and she whimpered a plea for her next instruction.
"Slip your hand down your body, Sarah," Jareth directed between panting breaths. "Cup your cunt for me."
Sarah obeyed, keeping her eyes locked with his as she brought him back to her lips. She let her tongue dance along the tip as she rocked into her palm. Their twin keening sounds almost sent Sarah over the edge, and she fought to maintain eye contact as her vision went white.
"Good," he told her, his gaze never wavering. "Now, I want to watch you touch your clit."
Relief and excitement bubbled in her chest as her thumb pushed the suit to the side. She paused for a moment to let Jareth see her exposed flesh unobscured and smirked when he groaned and bit his lip.
Sarah teased around the tip of his cock as her fingers dragged a circular rhythm over her clit. Her eyes stayed trained on him, watching his gaze drift in a circuit between her face, exposed breast, and moving hand.
"That's so good, Sarah," Jareth praised. "Now slip a fingertip between your lips." His voice was deeper, more resonant than she had ever heard it, and she felt it vibrating through her bones. "Tell me how wet you are."
"So wet," she confessed, her lips flush to his skin as she moved them over his shaft. She relished the slickness of her finger and the moan in his throat as she sank her mouth on him and sucked hungrily.
Jareth hissed, and his fingers tightened at her scalp as he tugged her off of him. "Tell me who you are wet for, Precious." he demanded.
Her whole body pulsed in response. "You," Sarah told him, pussy clenching in anticipation. "Always you."
The howl he let out was a primal, possessive thing, and his fingers flexed before loosening in her hair.
"Curl a finger inside and imagine it's mine," he ordered.
Sarah pushed his cock past her lips and did as he commanded. Their joint noises of bliss set Sarah's nerves ablaze. It was intoxicating, and she felt drunk with it. The hand between her legs began to move without his instruction, and a second finger joined the first, but Jareth didn't complain.
His chest heaved with ragged breaths as he watched. "I'm going to lose myself in this," he told her. "In your hot, sweet mouth. In the wet sounds of you taking your pleasure. In the feeling of your hair between my fingers, on my hips, my belly, my thighs."
Sarah hummed, low and imploring, and hoped he understood her meaning.
Do it. Lose yourself. I'm already lost.
And it was true, she thought, as she drifted in and out of reality. This was Jareth—his cock in her mouth, his fingers in her hair, his shudders and gasps just for her. It all seemed to be happening so slowly. Each sound and touch stretched over a lifetime.
All there was was him.
"Oh, Sarah," Jareth whined. "It's almost too much. Nearly painful, I can't—"
His words choked off into a pleading whine as Sarah instinctively tightened her grip around his shaft and quickened her pace.
Jareth broke eye contact for the first time, his lids fluttering closed. He looked truly lost, as promised.
Sarah drank in the sight of him, blissed and wild and out of control. She moaned around him and felt an overwhelming electrifying shiver travel from the top of his head to the tips of her toes.
"I am at your mercy," he breathed, and his gaze found hers again and held. "I will think about how you look with my cock disappearing down your throat for the rest of eternity."
The coiling tension in her belly threatened to snap, and she bucked desperately against her hand. She could hear herself distantly, muffled, vocal, and beseeching as she devoured him.
"Sarah." Her name was a command on his lips. "Come with me."
Sarah curled her fingers deeper, finding the spot that rippled over her nerves and massaged. Her thumb rubbed rough friction over her clit, and she took Jareth as deep as she could. His unrestrained roar of pleasure was enough to send her spiraling into warm bliss. He followed, fingers flexing in her hair as he spilled into her mouth. The amalgamation of his guttural groans and her own whimpers of release had her coming undone again while she fucked her fingers. It was all she could do to keep her eyes locked with his as she licked him clean.
Jareth tugged at Sarah's hair gently, and she pulled off, collapsing across his thighs while she rode her aftershocks through. He stroked her face with touches so tender that she fought the sudden urge to cry from the overwhelming current of emotion flowing between them. She felt exquisitely vulnerable and sated as he held her in his gaze, cradling her with yet unspoken words she felt ready to finally hear.
A/N:
Thank you x8.3 million to Geliot99 for beta reading this.
I want to credit the line "well-sussed" to Our Flag Means Death. It's said in a completely different context, but that phrase only exists in my head because of that show, so the credit is well deserved.
Also, if you didn't see the note I added to my last chapter, I made a tumblr! I'd love if you said hi at foxfaceinthewindow. You can see the 3 incredible sketches Geliot99 made for this story: One scene from Chapter 2 (Breakup Bangs) and two scenes from Chapter 10 (Crush Me). They are stunning, and I cannot stop staring at them.
(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
I really hope it was worth the wait. And we are just getting started. Please let me know what you think, I am quite literally chomping at the bit to know after this torturous wait ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)