Work Text:
Warnings: AU, somewhat-historical set in ancient times in Anatolia (around 14th century BC), king!Jared, concubine!Jensen, explicit content, exhibitionism.
A/N: This is a veeeeery late gift for 
daevanna’s birthday! >< Sorry about that! Hope you like it! <3 Thanks to jackfan2 for correcting my mistakes!
This fanfic fills ‘Courtesans or geishas’ square for my 
homebrewbingo.
Jared stormed out the room in a fit of rage, dismissing his scribe and advisor with a wave of his hand as he walked swiftly to his quarters. On his approach, the guards on the either side of the chamber doors assumed the position but Jared didn't acknowledge them as he stepped inside: Eager to shut out the world, he grabbed the heavy oak door and slammed it close, taking some comfort in the echoing impact.
Drawing a quieting breath, his gaze travelled the room, noting the pelts, the linen sheets all neatly arranged upon the sumptuous bed full of soft cushions, like his concubine preferred. The whole room, in fact, is a reflection of Jared's concubine needs and wishes; from the bed to the tapestry, from the rare olive oil imported from the Mediterranean that he uses in his bath, to his selection of jewelry displayed on the floor over a white cloth.
The red flap leading through the terrace was raised up and Jared went there, his hands itching to touch the soft, freckled skin of his concubine.
Jared's royal quarters faced the amazing view of Hattusa, high enough to see right through the line of the city and the strong walls that protected this rare jewel of the East. But, of course nothing, not even Hattusa at its full peak, could compare to Jared's concubine for beauty and virtues.
Sometimes Jared wondered if a king of a strong empire like his should have such a weak spot in one person, especially for one who didn't belong to his family circle. There were nights when Jared tormented himself with such thoughts, but in the end, he acknowledged that a life without his concubine was meaningless and even if, like the Council wanted, he found a consort, his concubine will be the first in his thoughts; Jared was so bewitched by that beauty he was heartless with other women or men who threw ourselves at him.
His concubine was on the terrace, resting on a recliner, protected from the sun of the evening by his handmaids' fans made by the multicolored feathers of peacocks. Another handmaid stood near the recliner and next to a small table that bore a golden bowl full of both fresh and dry fruits. The handmaid held in his hands a pitcher containing seasoned wine, ready to pour it into his master's empty goblet at his command.
At Jared's arrival, the handmaid kneeled on the ground with respect, but the two servants that were holding up the fan, dared only to bow their heads, careful not to let a ray of sunshine touch their master's skin in the process.
The concubine turned towards Jared and offered him a lazy smile. "My king," he said, propping himself up on his elbows to a half-sitting position.
Seeing Jensen so sensually displayed on the recliner, surrounded by soft cushions and dressed in nothing more than thin linen draped low on his hips made Jared's blood boil in his veins. Lust drove the anger from the earlier meeting from his thoughts.
Jensen had pale skin and spots all throughout his body, thicker around his nose. Kisses from the sun, like Jared often said. He came from the North, where there was no sand in sight, where rivers were bluer than the sky at night and they were born from deep forests with tall trees, from the River God, that Jensen often mentioned as his divinity.
Jensen was a gift from Jared's brother, Kris, brought after a raid in the northern regions and snagged from a temple. The night Kris brought him to Jared's tent, he was untouched, a blushing virgin, shaking in fear and nervousness. He was naked, skin red from the sun and eyes swelled from tears. So delicious. Kris brought him to Jared as a gift, saying that that slave was perfect for keeping Jared's bed warm that night, before the great battle of tomorrow. One look at that beauty, and Jared dismissed his brother, pleased for the gift, and he gave the slave to his servants to wash him and prepare him for the night.
When Jared fucked him for the first time, Jensen's skin was glistering with scented oil, his eyes shut and his mouth opened in 'O' of surprised pleasure that Jensen himself clearly never thought he would feel. Jared only took him once that night, then let him sleep peacefully at his side, carefully tucked in his arms. The day after Jared was off with his army, but he promised Jensen that he would fuck him senseless upon his return.
He did. And the night after, and again, until Jared himself didn't know what it meant having a cold bed without Jensen in it.
When Jared was crowned king, Jensen was at his side. Dressed like a prince in fine cloth and the rarest jewels, he was the envy and the desire of all the coronation that day but all knew the truth. From that day forward, he was known as the first and only concubine to the king.
Jared sat on the recliner and took the hand Jensen offered him; turning it the palm up, he kissed the soft gently. Jensen's eyes sparkled in pleasure and he brought his other hand to cup Jared's stubbled cheek. Gods, Jensen was so different from the blushing virgin he met. The years by his side had made him blossom and he was nothing like the pleasure slave they'd intended, he'd become so much more. Jensen had become a fixture in Jared's life, someone from whom he could not wonder be too far or long else his heart will languish and slowly expire.
Jensen frowned, immediately catching Jared's foul mood. He was always able to tell when something was amiss. "My king, something is troubling you."
"That's why I'm here for."
Jared caressed Jensen's knee until he reached his naked thigh. His concubine rested against the seatback and opened his legs, allowing the meager excuse of cloth to fall aside uncovering his loins. Jared immediately slid his hand up Jensen's inner thigh, passed his sack, stopping only when he found his entrance. Finding him slicked with oil like always, he slipped one finger effortlessly into the tight channel and groaned with excitement. He worked his finger to open him up, taking pleasure as he watched Jensen squirm on the cushions, helpless and moaning when Jared's fat finger touched something inside him that made his feet curl in pleasure.
"My king. Please. Please."
Jared took off his tunic, careless of the precious garments and the tearing of the cloth, eager to get naked and take his concubine properly.
Jensen's gaze travelled down Jared's well-muscled body with hunger, the sight of him every bit as stimulating as the touch. He arched up his back deliciously, offering himself so bluntly that Jared chuckled, pleased to have such a sensitive concubine under him.
"Please, my king," begged Jensen when Jared's mouth closed on one of his perky nipple. He bit it gently, tugging the flesh into his teeth when Jensen let out a gasp.
Jared licked the sensitive skin with the tip of his tongue. "Please, what, Jensen?" he teased. "You want me to fuck you here? Do you think the fine people of the palace will hear your screams of pleasure when I fuck you hard and proper?" He dragged his tongue across his chest to lave at the other nub. "I bet they will, like always. And the guards in the yard below? They will hear you too. They will exercise with their bows and arrows, with wagons and spears, and they'll hear their king fucking his little whore. They will be hard, frustrated, in need to have some slut under them. Your screams will entice my councilors and the noblemen of court. Does this excite you?"
Jared touched Jensen's cock, now completely hard, desperate to come. He knew how much Jensen loved when his king said those things aloud. It was a form of a verbal foreplay, a remainder and a display of the king's power over him.
"I want that." Jensen acknowledged. "Yes, I want all of that, please, my king, fuck me. Make me yours. Let them hear."
Jared tugged Jensen's nipple one last time before positioning himself in the v of Jensen's legs, taking his knees over his arms and dragging him closer when he penetrated him in one single push. Jensen let out a loud whimper, gripping the sides of his recliner, fingers digging deep into the softness of the cushion and the hardness of the wood of sycamore.
Jared bent Jensen's legs until they were pushing against his chest, loving how flexible his concubine was. When his cock was all the way in, he let go of his legs and stilled, reveling in the hot and tight hole fluttering and adjusting to his cock. Jensen was so tight, even when Jared fucked him three or four times at night, and so responsive.
The king did not stay still for long, but he intended for this to last so he pulled out slow and pushed back in with the same methodical pace. Over and over. Jensen whimpered and wrapped both his hand around Jared's neck, breathing against his mouth, so close that his face was almost blurred. But there was something missing.
Jared pulled back some and stared down at his concubine. "Look at me," he demanded.
Jensen opened his jade green eyes and Jared accommodated him better in his arms, stopping his thrust for a moment. Sitting back, he drew Jensen closer, cupping his ass and lifting him until he sat astride on his lap, Jared's cock still inside him. He claimed Jensen's mouth in a kiss that quickly turned it into something wet and dirty. While eager to have his concubine ride him slowly, he decided first to savor the moment of secret intimacy, pushing away the worries that his kingdom caused him.
It was the sort of spell Jensen put him under; everything else faded away when Jensen worked his magic. Lost when his concubine moaned against his mouth, needy and sexy, hotter than the sun of Anatolia. When their skins touched, when they were tangled in one another's arms to where neither knew where the other began or ended, when Jared's cock was inside his concubine, connecting them, tying them together. This wasn't just fucking, it never had been, not from the very first time to this moment, this was something deeper, more meaningful. So much more because here, with Jensen in his arms, Jared forgot about his worries, wars and the ten thousand problems that those things entailed.
This was his safe place, where even a king could rest.
"Jared –"
No-one dared to call him by his name, not even his many brothers, who referred to him by his title, but Jensen, oh, Jensen could do anything. Jared loved when Jensen called him with his given name, sometimes he required him to when they were alone.
"What, Jensen?"
"Please, Jared, I can't –" He squirmed on his lap, forcefully trying to rise up and start riding him, but Jared kept him in place. "Please, my king."
Jensen bit his bottom lip, leaving it angry red; he placed a hand in correspondence to Jared's heart. The contrast between the tanned skin of his king and the paleness of his hand seemed to strike him, because Jensen stared at him intently.
This was something he did often – placing his hand on Jared's heart –, like he needed to feel his crazy heartbeat or how Jensen could make his blood boil under his touch.
Jared grabbed his chin and forced him to stare at his eyes. "Always look at me."
"I do, Jared, you know I do," answered Jensen earnestly.
Yes, Jared knew that. He felt Jensen's eyes on him when they attended public ceremonies, or when they walked side by side in the hallways. They burned into his skin, a scorching reminder of what was waiting for him after those long days faded 'til they could retire to the quietness of their quarters.
Jensen had his own quarters, of course, in the part of the palace traditionally assigned to concubines, but he never went there. Under Jared's orders, he slept and lived in the king's chambers for Jared would hate to come back to his rooms and not find Jensen there.
He pushed Jensen down again, sliding out of him only long enough to adjust Jensen into his knees on the recliner. Hands gripping the seatback, he gazed over one shoulder, eyes smoldering invitation as he arched his back sensually and spread his legs, ass tilting; Jared could stay away no any longer.
Gripping Jensen's hips tight, Jared pushed his cock back inside until he was seated fully. He slid slowly out then, tightening his grip, this time he slammed back in hard enough to push Jensen further. A loud moan elicited from his mouth and Jared would have loved to see his eyes squeezed shut and his expression twisted in pleasure, but he could hold back no more. He settled into thrusting in and out from the hot furnace that was Jensen's ass.
When he was almost balls deep inside his concubine, he set a harder and rougher pace, making Jensen screaming, careless of everything, and pushing back to meet his thrusts. Jared was on the verge of coming, but before doing that he slide a hand around Jensen's hard length at the base, and squeezed. Jensen let out a pitiful groan.
"Jared, please!"
"Please, what?"
"I beg you, let me come! Please!" Jensen had this perfect way to beg that it was worth it to push him almost over the edge and made him stay there until he was a puddle of need. "Please, my king!"
Sometimes Jared didn't let him. He would pursue his own pleasure, put his tunic back on and leave Jensen there, with strict order not to touch himself, but, sometimes, like this, he let his concubine reach the completion.
"Come," he orders. He stroked him once, then put his hands back on Jensen's hips and pushed his cock all the way in, coming in a groan that almost masked the noise Jensen made when he cried out in pleasure.
He moved away and took Jensen in his arms, carrying him to the bedroom and placing him on the pelts and the soft pillows. Jensen smiled softly, caressing Jared's stubbled cheek, his breath still ragged and his eyes still liquid.
"Are you going?"
Jared nodded. "I have to."
Jensen scrunched his face up, clearly disappointed. "Stay with me a little while."
One of the handmaidens came with a bowl of water and a sponge, but Jared waved her away. She bowed and left them alone, immediately followed by the others servants who left two cups of wine ready for them to drink.
Jensen scooted aside and Jared sat on the bed. "Tell me what is bothering you," added Jensen with those pleading eyes that made Jared bend to his whims every time.
"The Council is asking me to choose a bride."
Jensen didn't flinch; he was almost expecting that. There was a shadow clouding his eyes, but passed when he blinked.
"You aren't surprised."
"Why should I?" Jensen asked. "Who are the candidates?"
Jared didn't want to talk about that. He wanted to lose himself in Jensen again, to forget that heavy burden on his shoulders.
In the time Jensen was with him, he had developed a sense of diplomacy that made him stand out from the crowd of people that surrounded Jared on a daily basis. Jensen learnt since his first days in the court that he needed to make a position for himself by knowing everything that was happening under his nose to keep his power.
Jensen rolled in the sheets, arching sensually and asking his full attention. Jared fell for it immediately and ran a hand along his hairless chest. The concubine pressed against his king's side, looking up at him from his long lashes.
Jared kissed Jensen's palm. He could see the open concern in his eyes and the way his body was carving for contact and touch.
"I want you to be my consort," he whispered, soft as a secret, against the skin of Jensen's palm, looking straight into Jensen's eyes, catching his flabbergasted expression. He chuckled. "What is so weird?"
Jensen looked away, serious and almost sad. "I'm no-one, my king. Just your concubine. I bring you neither lands nor a worthy bloodline; not gold or a useful alliance."
"You were a prince in your kingdom."
Jensen's eyes darted with fierceness. He was a prince, or had been until his father exiled him in the temple that Jared's brother found him in, as an offering to their River God. "We lost the war. I'm your slave."
"You're so much more than that."
Jensen sat up, tearing his hand away from Jared's lips. "The Council will never agree."
"Leave the Council to me."
Jared hadn't uttered those words in the heat of the moment. He had meant them. He had been planning for months as to how to make the Council agree to his proposal, but that was only a dream, something he could share only with his most trusted advisors. Now, the war was upon them and with it, the chance to make Jensen a possible choice as a consort. Honour in battle was something everyone admired and Jensen, even though Jared never let him go near the battlefield, was a skilled archer, and a great strategist.
"You're making no sense," Jensen huffed, looking almost angered by Jared's insinuations. "You can't alienate the Council. You can't make me your consort."
"I'm the king, Jensen."
Jensen didn't answer and Jared changed the subject. "I'll leave for war in two days. You'll come with me."
Jensen nodded and seemed relieved. "Of course, my king." He passed a hand over Jared's beard before hooking it around his neck and pulling him closer for a kiss. "I'm always at your service. I'm always yours. Wherever you go, I'll follow."
One day, Jensen would make a fine consort; Jared would make sure of that, because there was no way he could accept anyone else by his side for the rest of his life.
Let me know if you like it or not! :)