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Fashion Disaster
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"Jareth?" Sarah knocked on the bathroom door, a bit concerned fifteen minutes after he entered and no word or Goblin King emerged. "Are you okay?" Seconds later the door cracked open and his pale arm thrust out, a blue and gray cloth bundle tangled in his long–fingered grip. His haughty voice came to her, muffled by the particle board separating them.
"This is unacceptable."
"Excuse me?"
"This attire," he said, waving the haphazardly twisted bundle in her face, forcing her to grab it two–handed from him to avoid an eye abrasion from the free flying sleeves.
"It is un – ac – cept - able," Jareth repeated, enunciating each syllable with prideful precision. Gritting her teeth, Sarah pushed the bundle back through the barely open door, bypassing Jareth's retracing arm, and tossed it somewhere inside.
"It's fine,
Your Highness," she replied snidely. "Put it on." She heard his rapid in drawn breath, the strangled beginning of a protest, and cut him off with a low, hissing threat. Her face planted at the door's surface for maximum volume delivery in order to keep Toby out of the loop (he still blissfully watched T.V., impatient for G. K.'s return).
"Just do it, Jareth!"
"But, Sarah..." Pale, patrician nose peeking around the edge of the door, Jareth faintly whined below his ever present majestic pride. "It's a poly–cotton blend and it's
scratchy!"
"Oh. My. God. You're impossible." She sighed, wanting to bang her head on the door jamb. Reaching for her reserve of mega–patience, she said. "Look, unless you prefer spending the week in a towel..."
Please, God, don't let him chose that! The thought of Jareth wearing nothing but Motel 6 towels for several days stirred up all sorts of conflicting physical and emotional waves; a fluttering tickled her stomach while her brain cringed.
"But –"
"And you are
not living in the bathroom ..."
"But, Sarah –"
"You
are getting dressed and getting out here!" Unable to see his expression, she watched the tip of his nose twitch as she heard the metallic rattle of the door handle, saw it twist on her side. The nonverbal message was clear; Jareth did
not like being ordered around by anyone. The fact he kept silent through her command astounded her, made her feel a flash of guilt trailed by a moment of weakness, which in turn triggered a bit of kindness.
"Jareth," she said, softer. When he did not answer, she continued. "I know you're used to better, but this was the best thing I could find tonight." Silence ... placing her hand lightly against the faux wood grain of the door, Sarah added. "I promise I'll find you something nicer tomorrow, okay?"
She heard him reply -"agreed"-which sounded rather grudging, before the door clicked shut in her face.
"Oh boy," she muttered, rolling her eyes, returning to the main room. "And I thought Toby acted childish."
"I do not!" Her brother replied after swallowing his long sip of a Capri-Sun. Sarah grinned, sitting next to him as he watched late night infomercials on the limited basic cable available.
"You're right, squirt. For a little brother, you're down right mature."
jsjsjsj Jareth glared at the bundled clothing heaped on the yellowed, vinyl linoleum, its crisp, fabric edges offensive to his sight. Nudging it with his bare toes, he cringed. Even there the coarseness grated, but then fae were naturally more sensitive, every portion, every sense heighten beyond human standards. She expected him to wear this? Accept this
sandpaper abrading his skin throughout the night?
I wonder if there is a possibility of my sleeping au natural? As soon as he considered it, he quashed the thought. Sarah would likely view such behavior as wanton, refusing to allow it in such close quarters, or want Toby exposed to more of his ...
masculinity. Toby ... he sighed, his glare softening. He must place Toby's welfare above his comfort in this instance, especially since Sarah spent her money (hard earned and little enough-he was all too aware unbeknownst to her) and risked her life coming to his aid. (Though he helped save them as well ... still...)
"Time for a bit of noblesse oblige, old boy," he said aloud, psyching himself up to dress in pauper's clothing, a thing not done by him in ...well ... ever. Heaving another sigh, Jareth knelt, picked up the bundle, and sorted it into the loose shirt and pants.
You have defeated foes great in strength and mighty sorcerers; I bit of poly–cotton blend is nothing. "Precisely ..." he said, carefully balancing as he slipped a foot through one leg of the pants, his skin itching all the way up as it made contact. "'This is nothing but harmless mortal clothing." He said through a tightened jaw. Biting the inside of his cheek, he slipped his other foot in, feeling burning prickles bite as he pulled the elastic band over his thighs.
"Utterly harmless," he muttered passed grinding teeth, yanking it swiftly to his waist, shuddering and restraining his urge to re-strip. "You can do this ... it does
not itch."
He spent another five minutes torturing his upper body until he was modestly clothed, and another five minutes past that controlling his physical need to scratch each and every square inch touched by the poly-cotton blend fleece sweats.
By the Gods, how do mortals survive this torment? "The things I do for you, Sarah Williams." He groused before plastered on a pleasant expression and exiting the bathroom, a cubicle he cared never to see again.
jsjsjsj Hearing the snicking click of the bathroom door, Sarah looked up from her seat next to the small table to see Jareth walk stiffly into the dimly lit main room, a weird stretched smile on his face. Yeah ... that didn't look faked, but at least he was dressed and ...
Holy crap, he looks like a 'Prince and the Pauper' reject. I can't believe he actually put those on because of what I said ... Was her prevailing thought as Jareth passed the beds, his body obviously twitching, fingers picking at the baggy sweats. Too call them a size too big would be kind. He really was slim built.
"Tobias?" he said, head pivoting.
"He fell asleep, so I put him to bed," she explained, nodding at the Toby sized lump tucked under the covers in the bed closest to the bathroom.
"I see. But why are the lights and television turned down, not off?"
"He can sleep through anything, and I wasn't ready for bed yet." She chuckled, standing to move closer, looking him up and down. "You look ... good."
"You needn't patronize me, Sarah." He sniffed, plucking at the dark blue neckline, and Sarah noticed a redden welt forming where the elastic collar touched his skin. Frowning, she wondered if he was allergic to the material. She'd have to make sure to purchase all natural fiber clothing tomorrow.
"Though I am ... grateful for your assistance," he added.
Laughing quietly, she lowered her head and shook it, noticing his bare feet. For some reason, Jareth's naked feet shining in the gray lit motel room seemed oddly more intimate to her than his previous full body vulnerability. The sweat pants hovered a bit high water at his ankles while his toes curled under, gripping the carpet. Was he nervous? Since when did Jareth suffer anxiety? Then their unorthodox situation really struck her - two beds, three people.
Reaching up she twisted a hank of her hair between her fingers, meeting his keen eyes. "Um ... so I guess we shouldn't sleep together."
"
Pardon?" Jareth's voice pitched up in surprise and he blinked rapidly, standing very still, eyes darting from hers to the wall behind her.
"I – I meant we shouldn't s-sleep in the same bed," she stammered, felt her face warm, and dropped her eyes back to the short fiber carpet. It resembled overused indoor /outdoor carpet; she hadn't noticed earlier but she studied it now.
"No, of course not." He stepped back, hands partially raised. "I can sleep in a chair."
"
What?" Shocked, her head jerked back up to see a discomforted Jareth, and him being more embarrassed then she after all his innuendos struck her as ironic, made her relax somewhat. Regardless, she was not permitting him to sleep all night, cramped and uncomfortable, in a chair.
"Jareth, you're healing." She touched his upper arm, tightening her fingers, causing his eyes to widen. He gasped harshly, his lips blanched and his eyes watered. Was he that injured? Had she hurt him by that simple grip? ...Even more of a reason to not allow his martyr idea of bed sacrificing.
"You can't sleep in a chair." She scoffed.
"No?" Brow cocked, he leaned forward.
"No, I'll share Toby's bed and you can have the other one."
"Ah – yes." Nodding, he looked to the empty bed - the lonely, empty bed. "That's a good idea – thank you." Squeezing once more, Sarah dropped her hand from his arm and swore she saw a look of relief in his eyes, but maybe the half light played tricks with her, maybe not.
"Okay then." She smiled. "Well, I'm going to change for bed." Jareth returned her nod, stepping aside as she passed by, his body heat radiating to her skin, making her gulp. Refusing to glance over her shoulder, Sarah snatched the go–bag on her way to the bathroom. It didn't matter; she felt his eyes on her back, piercing her shoulder blades until she shut the door, separating them with the flimsy shield.
How the hell am I going to get any sleep? She wondered, her itchy shoulder blades pressed to the too thin barrier, chin tucked to her chest.
Don't think about the Goblin King sleeping in the bed next to you. It's just like a slumber party. Then she remembered what happened at slumber parties ... girls talked about boys.
"Oh man." She moaned, distressed. "I'm not getting any sleep tonight."
jsjsjsj Taking as long as realistically possible, eventually Sarah peeked out of the bathroom wearing her long–sleeved, ankle length, cotton pajamas covered with images of ducks and chickens. Another bit of irony revealed to her as she changed clothes; she forgot which set of old jammies she packed months ago. Groaning, she wanted to pound her head on the wall. Chickens?
Really? Jareth was going to have a field day with this one. Sarah Williams, labyrinth champion wearing chickens.
"Jareth?" Silence and full darkness shrouded the room except for a slim shaft of light slicing through the curtain's incomplete connection. The street light's amber glow illuminated the faint outline of a blanket covered lump in each bed, one larger than the other. Had she hidden in the bathroom that long? Apparently...
"Jareth?" she whispered. Nothing ... neither bed lumps moved, only regular, deep breathing answered her. Surprisingly she felt a tad ... disappointed? But that was ridiculous, wasn' t it?
"Hmm ..." She frowned, shoving away the startlingly emotion. Better to concentrate on important things like getting a full night's rest for work tomorrow, and she needed to decide what to do about Toby–school or not? Would he be safe? Could she risk it? Maybe should she wait until Jareth's powers return before sending Toby back? But could he afford to miss days?
"Dammit," she cursed, pulling back her half of the covers next to Toby and slipping underneath. Too many worries chased each other and multiplied as she stared at the shadowed ceiling. She
would have to start thinking about this now. And no Earl Gray tea conveniently at hand to steep and sip with cream and sugar, easing her into rest. She tried focusing on the random noises surrounded her: Toby's light snoring, air conditioner's asthmatic hum, intermittent traffic passing by, and Jareth's breathing. Though she tried ignoring the last, her ears kept picking out the easy rhythm of his respirations, followed by her mind's involuntarily remembrance of his bare feet. Why his feet? She supposed it was the same as his bare hands; he was the invincible Goblin King, her eternal villain. His digits were not for the likes of mortal eyes, and it made them all the more fascinating.
"This is insane." Ripping back the covers, Sarah sat up, digging her fingers through her hair, mussing it into a sparrow's nest. Drawn to the shaft of light, she walked to the window and pulled the curtain farther open until the glow made her squint. Curious as to the time, nevertheless she refused to check; she didn't want to know how much remained before dawn, let her brain live in this fuzzy, surreal denial a bit longer.
Staring out the dusty window, Sarah imagined her life veering differently, traveling the opposite fork in the road. No bills, no stress, no dead end job, no tragedy, and definitely no death, but then ... would there be a Jareth returned? Without Toby's wish would Jareth be here now? The thought of no Jareth back in her life stabbed her, her heart thumped painfully. Bringing her thumb to her lips, she chewed the nail, her incisors popping the hard edge.
"Sarah?" The voice of the very person lingering in her mind shot through her and she jumped, spinning around.
"Oh shit!" She clutched her chest, facing a shirtless Jareth sitting on the edge of his bed, the soft light creating a halo effect on his skin. "Jareth, you startled me."
Head cocked, he stood, his pale hair igniting in the light. "My apologies, I heard you crying."
"I was crying?" She wiped her face, felt moisture.
When did that happen? "Are you alright?" Moving closer, he raised one hand to brush his fingers across her wet cheek.
"Fine," she nodded, lips pursed, "I'm fine." His touch made her shiver and her eyes dipped lower to his bare chest.
He took his shirt off, she thought inanely.
"Then why are you not sleeping?" Fingers caressing slowly, they coaxed her eyes shut, the lids gaining weight.
How does he do that, make me feel so relaxed and frustrated at the same time? His fingers moved lower, touching her jaw, shifted forward; her eyes stayed closed and she reveled in the sensations generated from her jaw radiating outwards, tingling prickles tightened her skin. His fingers trailed along to her lips, traced one corner, ending with his thumb rubbing barely there circles over the middle. His thumb pulled forth the sensitive nerves in her lips, made them twist and tickle.
"Couldn't, too much on my mind."
"Such as?" Sarah thought she heard gruffness to his tone, a huskiness which sparked a warmth within her.
"Can we not talk about those things right now?" A wavering note slipped into her voice, did he hear it?
"Shhh ... no more talking then," he said and Sarah felt him move closer, felt his body warmth engulf her, his first finger and thumb gently holding her chin and tilting it upwards. When she opened her eyes her throat constricted; they stood nose to nose, his eyes peeling away her defenses and denials.
He knew. At that moment she realized two important things - Jareth was going to kiss her. And she wanted to kiss him.
Jareth's POV
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She looked so forlorn standing at the window; Jareth didn't have the heart to tease or taunt her as usual- a first he realized. When she turned at him calling her name, the autumn-gold tinted light reflected tear tracks on her face and he caught the faint saline whiff of her sorrow. What made his Sarah stand at this dingy night view, crying, when she should be resting? Any residual temptation to make light of her emotions ceased at the tortured soul screaming within her eyes, the darkness keeping nothing secret from his acute sight. Jareth's heart contracted, feeling her pain. Not even her startled curse hid it.
"My apologies, I heard you crying," he replied, sincere and stood from his seated position on the edge of his bed. The cool air embraced his bare chest, a relief from the prickling irritants of the shirt (which he removed prior to going to bed while Sarah stalled in the privy only to be disappointed by the rough texture of the bed linens.) Was he never to find comfort?
"I was crying?" She didn't know? Moving closer, he reached for the obvious lines squiggling over her cheeks, collecting at her chin.
"Are you alright?" Concentrating on her tears, Jareth didn't see her eyes dip when he brushed his fingers over the rivulets, wiping them, drying them from her face.
She is too beautiful to shed such bitter tears, he decided.
Too fine a being to feel such pain. "Fine, I'm fine." Feeling her shiver at his continued touch, he watched her eyes drift shut.
She is so tired, beyond exhausted; if she would only allow my help, I could ease her burdens. "Then why are you not sleeping?" He asked, moving fingers towards her mouth whilst he observed her reactions: slowing respirations, lowering shoulders, drying tears, and her lips–perfect, blush–tinted skin soft to his touch. A tightening spread through his body from his chest to his groin once his thumb brushed over her parted lips, lightly massaged her delicate skin.
"Couldn't, too much on my mind," she said, her breath warming his hand and the urge to press his thumb over the boundary of her lower lip, explore her mouth, threatened to undo him. Even breaths keep him under control.
"Such as?" He sensed her increased fidgetiness, watched her twist her hips minutely towards him, smelled something new and pungent mix with her sorrow, musk—Sarah's arousal. Hardly able to restrain himself, Jareth inhaled, enjoying the dizziness, the heat and hardness his body experience from her proximity and responsiveness.
By the Gods do I want her! "Can we not talk about those things right now?" He heard her voice crack, watched how she kept her eyes closed, shutting out their reality. So be it, he could accept her surrender in this manner ... for now.
"Shh ... no more talking then," he replied, reducing the space separating them, guiding her face up until the tips of their noses met. When her eyes opened he knew she comprehended his intentions, knew she understood by the intense look in her eyes. Never had he seen her so bare, so revealed, and still she stood her ground, refusing to run from the truth pulsing between them.
How long had he wanted this, wanted her? And now, at the precipice, his lips hovering centimeters from hers, their breathing intermingling as their arms wove together, he hesitated. Everything would change. Once he kissed her - truly kissed her - nothing would be as it was.
"Jareth," she whispered his name, moving incrementally closer, her chest pressing to his so intimately he didn't mind her flannel abrading his ultra–sensitive flesh; it served to heighten his arousal, spice the sensations. He felt her hips grind into his; surely she feel his own lust responding to the pressure and yet she continued. Weaving his hand from her chin into her hair at the nape of her neck, he held her head firm, eyes boring into hers, felt her quivering as he knew he must be.
I want this. I want her. He pressed his lips to hers with deliberate intention, not forceful, not hard, but firm and commanding, showing her how much he desired her. Sarah returned it with equal fervor, her body molding to his; she heard a moan escape her vocal cords, felt it rumble in her chest and throat.
God he feels good, smells good; I could stay here forever... His lips were soft yet demanding in all the right ways, leading her exactly where she wanted to go ;but was too afraid to ask. Jareth knew because he wanted it too. She felt how much he wanted her; but he didn't push, didn't rush and she liked that-trusting him, even for this moment, consenting him the lead.
So when the tip of his tongue tested the seam of her faintly parted lips, tasting, she involuntarily groaned. She couldn't help it. Whether or not she wanted to admit it, her body told her she wanted this far longer than she consciously realized. Since her run through his labyrinth, Jareth epitomized all the best and worst of men in her eyes. Only now, as he kissed her, his tongue passing through her lips, tangling with hers to create the most pleasant, moist friction, did she begin to acknowledge to herself how much she craved him.
"
Sa – rah," he said her name quietly into her mouth, drawing out the two syllables until she felt a buzz start in her chest and race down her torso into her legs. Dropping her hands from his shoulders, she ran her blunt nails over his pectorals, felt the muscles twitch and jump beneath her fingers, and marveled at how her touch affected him. If he felt half as light-headed as she...
Wanting to lose herself in the sensations, eyes still closed, she leaned her head back, feeling him brace her shoulders with his other hand. Jareth would keep her safe, hold her. Strangely, she'd never been as sure of anything in her life as this, right now, as he drew his mouth down her neck. His moan, guttural and deep, vibrated along the receptive skin of her neck; and she felt him leisurely trail a wet line of kisses to her collarbone. Clutching at his shoulders, she gasped.
Hearing her, Jareth nuzzled his nose farther into the corner of her neck and shoulders, his passion rising to the sound of hers. Her lips, her skin, touching her, kissing her–they surpassed all he dreamt, all his fantasies, and he never wanted to stop.
Please, Gods Below, allow me this forever... "Mmm ... Sarah?" Toby's voice carved through their lust, freezing both, Jareth's face buried in Sarah's neck, her head tossed back, hair streaming.
"Toby?" she answered in a squeak, head yanking upright, nearly head–butting Jareth.
"Sarah, where are you? It's dark." Hearing the fear in his voice, Sarah answered quickly, moving through the shaft of light.
"Here," she said pushing from Jareth and stumbling backwards. "I'm here."
"Oh, I see you." Readjusting her pajama top, she tripped over her feet rushing around Jareth's bed to Toby who sat up facing them, hair tousled, eyes pinched. "Hey, Jareth, what are you guys doing up?"
"We ... uh ... we're..."Sarah stammered, sitting next to her brother, before Jareth interrupted her in a smooth voice as he sat on his own bed, alone.
"We were admiring the night sky, Tobias."
"Oh." He shrugged, rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Cool."
"You need to go back to sleep, squirt."
"But I'm not tired," he said, yawning again.
"Sure you're not," Sarah answered sarcastically, ruffling his hair. Pulling up the blankets, she encouraged him to lie down. "Back to sleep."
"Are you guys staying up?" he asked as Sarah tucked him in with Jareth watching, a half smile curling his mouth. She glanced over to Jareth, uncertain what to say after their recent interlude. Suspecting how late it must be, she knew she
should go to sleep but with her body abuzz and tingling, how could she? Meeting her questioning gaze, he answered her unspoken query.
"Of course not, Tobias," he said softly, "your sister and I are going to sleep now."
"Good." He yawned again, followed closely by a second, and Sarah yawned with him.
"You know, I am tired," she agreed, covering her mouth then dropping her eyes from Jareth's intense stare. What happened tonight changed the dynamic between them. She felt his presence more acutely now than ever before, could feel his eyes on her as she kissed Toby good night and slipped under the covers on his opposite side. Could feel him keenly studying her every movement, memorizing her; it gave her chills—not necessarily bad.
"Good night, Sarah," Jareth said, voice low and sultry and she peeked over Toby's body at his sitting form illuminated by the outside glow. Knowing he could see her far better than she him made her self–conscious, as if he peeled her layers in the dark. Suddenly lacking boldness, she ducked behind her brother and mumbled:
"'Night, Jareth."
Oh boy ... what have I gotten myself into?
