Work Text:
If Jacaerys Velaryon is one thing, it is loyal. He is fiercely protective of the ones he loves, and will do anything to ensure their safety.
He knows a storm is brewing as the King’s health declines, a storm that threatens everything he holds dear. Daemon has warned him of such, warned his mother of such. Although she dismisses his concerns as paranoia, Jace takes them quite seriously.
Returning to the Red Keep confirmed all the suspicions Daemon’s voiced for years. Even if Jace’s mother is not able to see it, Jace is. He sees the danger the moment he witnesses Otto Hightower sit on the Iron Throne in place of his grandsire, comfortable as can be.
He is on guard the rest of the day, even after Daemon showed what happens to those who go against their family. Jace feels nothing but cold satisfaction when his grand-uncle’s blood cools on the floor of the throne room.
Dinner is not as much of a disaster as Jace expects it to be.
Oh, it is still awful and dreary, that is for sure. The atmosphere is tense after Daemon decapitated a man, and Jace’s entire family being forced to dine together at the will of his ill grand-sire did not help matters. Even after the elderly man’s emotional plea for them all to get along, everyone is still uncomfortable.
A few toasts are made, by his mother and Queen Alicent in an attempt to play nice, but Jace is not convinced. His eyes narrow in suspicion as he notices Otto Hightower pressing his lips into a thin, unimpressed line during the whole spectacle.
Jace knows that his mother’s claim is not well supported by the realm or the Hightowers, and he sees Otto’s treachery plainly. He hates it, he hates the disrespect and the selfishness. He is determined not to let Otto have his way, by any means necessary.
Daemon has told them to be wary of the Hightowers, and Jace understands that mistrust now when he couldn’t as a child. He is filled with rage just by looking at Otto, whereas he feels nothing but pity for Queen Alicent, disgust for Aegon, fondness for Helaena, and…
And too many things to name, for Aemond.
Jace swallows his feelings at the sight of his uncle, matured and grown, and focuses back on the true threat: the scheming patriarch of the Greens.
Yet it doesn’t take long for him to grow distracted, righteously so. Jace’s anger and desire to protect his family is large, and it is only exaggerated by Aegon’s offensive comments. Jace clenches his jaw, just barely resisting punching the pathetic cunt in the nose.
But Aegon never knew when to stop.
“If you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask.”
Jace slams his hands on the table and jumps up, but his fury is tempered by Aemond slowly rising from his seat. Jace glances at him, tense and expecting a fight, but it never comes. Aemond doesn’t do anything, he only stands there and stares at Jace.
Jace’s heart is hammering, but he somehow pulls a well-mannered speech out of his ass. The others toast, Aegon mumbles in his cup, and Aemond won’t stop staring at Jace.
Slowly, Jace sits back down, watching Aemond out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t look strictly angry; the fire burning behind his one eye is not of the destructive nature.
Before Jace can decipher it fully, Aemond turns and quickly exits the room.
Everyone sits in surprised silence for a moment, until the King coughs.
“The boy probably had to use the privy,” he waves away. “Let us have some music.”
The band in the corner starts playing, and conversation picks up again. Jace furrows his brows, confused about what just happened.
Aemond’s absence certainly lowers the likelihood of a fight, but Jace does not miss the way Otto’s sharp eyes flit to his mother every once in a while. They are filled with distaste, and Jace can practically see the gears turning in his mind to concoct some horrible plan intended to steal his mother’s birthright.
Jace simply cannot take it anymore. He must leave, or he will end up starting a fight. He glances at Daemon, and they exchange a charged look.
Jace knows what he has to do.
“Excuse me,” he says politely, getting up from the table. He smiles at Baela and his mother, steps around Luke and Rhaena dancing, and leaves the room.
Once in the hall, Jace’s smile drops and his pace quickens.
He has been to the chambers of the Hand of the King, but it has been years. He used to tag along with Ser Harwin when he visited his father, whom Jace only truly knew later was his grand-sire. He remembers Lord Lyonel as a kind man, always giving Jace and Luke small smiles whenever they visited.
But Lord Lyonel is gone now, just like Ser Harwin, and Jace needs to remember the location of the Hand of the King’s chambers in order to save his remaining family.
As he walks through the various hallways of the Red Keep, his feet start gaining confidence, and his body remembers the path where his mind struggles. Jace narrows his eyes in determination, singularly focused on his mission.
Finally, he reaches a door that he recognizes as the correct one and, sparing a quick look around to ensure that no one is nearby to notice, turns the handle and slips through.
As he enters he thinks he hears something, like rushed footsteps. He holds his breath and peeks back outside, but there is no one to be found.
He exhales in relief and shrugs, shutting the door.
The chambers of the Hand of the King are quite nice. The room Jace is in right now is an antechamber that functions as an office, with the Hand’s actual quarters accessible by a door to the right.
Jace doesn’t bother with it and instead walks over to the desk, scanning the workspace for bits of parchment with any hastily written messages that could be incriminating evidence.
Jace frowns as he sorts through the messy stacks of paper on Otto Hightower’s desk. He didn’t think the man was so sloppy and unorganized.
Why did he leave all his papers out in plain sight? As Jace thinks about it, why was the door to his quarters unlocked in the first place?
Before he can think on it any longer or find anything useful, there is the sound of footsteps again. This time, they are heavy and sure, coming right up to the door.
Panic floods Jace’s body and he drops the bit of parchment he’d been holding to whip his head around quickly. He cannot go out the door he entered from, nor make it to the door leading to the Hand’s quarters in time, and he can’t hide under the desk —
There’s a wardrobe to the side of the fireplace, against the wall, and Jace wrenches the thing open — unlocked, thank the gods! — and throws himself inside just as he hears the doorknob turn.
Heart pounding in his chest, Jace clutches the doors of the wardrobe closed as the Hand’s office unmistakably opens. Jace’s eyes struggle to acclimate to the sudden darkness but he feels clothes all around him, most likely Otto’s various robes and overcoats, and the musty scent makes Jace want to gag.
But he doesn’t dare make a noise, doesn’t dare to breathe, as his ears strain to hear someone walking up to the desk.
As Jace stands there frozen in the dark wardrobe, a new sound enters his awareness, so gradually that at first he thinks he’s imagining it. But as the seconds tick by and Jace hyper-focuses on the small space around him, he knows he is not mistaken. And panic is swapped with terror.
Behind him, inches away in the small wardrobe, are the unmistakable inhales and exhales of quiet breathing.
Someone is in here with him.
With that realization he gasps, and instantly a hand shoots out from behind him to clamp down over his mouth. Jace tenses up, preparing to fight his mystery attacker off as quietly as he can without drawing Otto’s attention, when plush lips brush against his ear.
“Quiet,” a familiar voice whispers, almost inaudible.
Jace’s eyes widen and his body goes rigid for an entirely different reason.
Aemond. It is Aemond’s voice, it is Aemond hidden in the closet with him.
A thousand questions explode in Jace’s mind — what is his uncle doing in Otto’s quarters, why is he hiding from his own grand-sire, what in the seven hells is going on — but he can’t focus on any of them, not when Aemond’s hand is on his mouth, Aemond’s long hair is brushing his face and neck, Aemond’s body is radiating heat against Jace’s back in the tight space of the wardrobe.
“If you make a noise, we will both be discovered,” Aemond breathes into Jace’s ear. “Understand?”
Jace nods once, then licks Aemond’s hand for good measure.
Aemond immediately removes his hand from Jace’s mouth and hisses quietly. Jace is glad that it is directed into the side of his neck, otherwise Otto may have heard it. But that rational gratitude doesn’t stop him from shivering at the sensation.
Now that Jace is aware of Aemond’s presence in the wardrobe, it is impossible to ignore.
He hears his uncle’s breathing on his neck, senses his tall body hovering behind him. Jace clenches his fists, ignoring the strong desire to lean back into Aemond’s hard chest. It would be so easy, and they are so close Jace could also pass it off like an accident.
But Jace stamps down the silly desire to be close to his once-best childhood friend and instead silently pivots his feet until he is facing Aemond.
The process takes a long time as Jace dares not to make a sound, and he is somewhat surprised that Aemond does not reach out and stop him from moving. But he doesn’t, so Jace listens to Otto shuffle paper on his desk and slowly spins around to face his uncle.
When Jace succeeds in his change in position, his eyes have fully adjusted to the darkness and he’s able to see Aemond in front of him, mere inches away.
He has to lift his head a little to make eye contact, as Aemond is taller than him. Jace’s heart races as he does so, seeing his uncle’s eye widen in an expression almost like fear. Jace cannot find it in himself to taunt him, as he is sure the same expression is mirrored on his own face. He is terrified of being caught by Otto, and terrified of being trapped so tightly like this with Aemond.
He’s afraid because he has no idea what to expect. He doesn’t know how Aemond feels, how Aemond will react to this situation and behave toward him later. Jace doesn’t even know his own feelings on the matter. It is so far beyond his wildest expectations for this night, yet so painfully familiar at the same time.
It’s familiar because this is not the first time Jace has found himself sharing a tight space with his uncle.
As children, Jace and his brother would often play with their uncles. The four of them together would run through the corridors of the Red Keep, chasing each other or racing. Most often, they played hide and seek.
It was a fun game for everyone. Aegon got to stroke his ego as the eldest by being the seeker, and the other three boys were left to gleefully explore the various nooks and crannies of the castle. Sometimes Jace hid by himself, sometimes he hid with Luke, and yet other times he hid with Aemond.
Hiding with Aemond became Jace’s favorite way to play the game, since together they found secret hiding spots that nobody else knew about. It gave ten-year-old Jace a rush, squeezing into tight spaces to hide that were his and Aemond’s secret. Their knees would knock together as they held their hands tight over their mouths, holding back their laughter as Aegon cursed and stomped in anger at not finding them.
Those times with Aemond were some of Jace’s most treasured memories of living in King’s Landing. They had no trouble squeezing into dark spaces together, their bodies pressed against each other while winning the game. They spent hours hiding like that, and they’d talk sometimes too. Aemond had been Jace’s dearest friend.
Now, although the physical situation was much the same, the context could not be more different.
They are not children anymore, able to be close to each other without a care in the world. They are not friends anymore. After everything that’s happened, Aemond surely hates him. They are almost enemies. In addition, Jace has matured into a man, and his body can no longer be so close to another without consequence.
In that moment, remembering their childhood together and comparing situations, Jace desperately misses how it used to be.
He misses the carefree joy of being a child, or not worrying about anything substantial. He misses having fun with his family, his friends.
His heart burns with how much he misses Aemond, even though they are right in front of each other.
Jace blinks up at his uncle, sure that his face is betraying all the emotions inside him, all the memories he sees. But it’s okay, because Jace can tell that Aemond remembers it all too.
Aemond’s jaw is clenched, his eye almost glowing in its intensity. He’s so tense, like he’s trying hard to remain stoic but in danger of losing composure at any moment.
Jace is finding it hard to remember why they are supposed to be enemies.
The footsteps suddenly resume, leaving the desk and pacing near the very wall that the wardrobe is against. The footsteps are loud, right in front of them really, and Jace’s heart hammers in panic.
Acting on pure instinct, his mind screaming at him to get away and hide, Jace steps further into the wardrobe, closing the tiny amount of space between him and Aemond until nothing remains.
Jace presses against Aemond fully, his hands digging into Aemond’s shoulders with anxiety and his body almost melding into his uncle’s.
Aemond’s hands fly to Jace’s waist, and for a moment Jace is terrified that he’ll shove him away, throwing him out of the wardrobe to be discovered. He looks up at Aemond, frantic.
When Aemond’s eye meets his, he grits his teeth and squeezes Jace’s waist, hard. But he does not push him away, or let go.
Jace is so grateful that he wants to sigh in relief. But he doesn’t dare to, knowing that the sound would be much too loud and would surely get them discovered. All he does, all he can do, is stare strickenly at Aemond’s face and continue to press their bodies together, making them as small as possible.
Aemond looks just as fearful as Jace, his eye getting wider and wider as Jace crushes them closer together. The sound of footsteps on the stone outside is still loud, still a threat. Jace prays for them to go away.
Mercifully, they do. Jace has no idea how long it takes, every moment seeming to stretch on for years, but eventually Otto stops pacing and returns to sit at his desk, the wooden chair scraping against the stone as it’s pulled out.
Jace breathes a sigh of relief as quietly as he can into Aemond’s chest, slumping against his uncle as all the tension leaves his body. That was a close call; he wasn’t sure if they’d get so lucky again.
When Jace raises his head off Aemond’s chest to look at him once again, his uncle’s expression has completely changed.
He’s still looking at Jace, but it’s not in alarm anymore. His eye is still wide, but it’s softer now, more vulnerable. Jace almost feels like he’s looking into Aemond’s soul.
He’s enraptured by what he sees. Aemond’s emotions are nothing like Jace expected, nothing like they were earlier that day. Jace had only seen him smirking, proud, or annoyed since returning to the Red Keep. But now, Aemond appears a lot more like the uncle that Jace befriended as a child.
He’s looking at Jace with desperate affection, with yearning. Jace sucks in a breath, having never been on the receiving end of such a look before. It’s even more devastating when it’s on Aemond’s face.
There’s yearning, but there’s also sadness and relief.
It only takes a moment of processing Aemond’s expression for Jace to break.
He breaks, totally and completely. His feelings for Aemond hit him full-force, all the warm emotions he’d shoved down after moving to Dragonstone rising to the surface again. With Aemond here, pressed against him and his true feelings shining out of his eye, Jace cannot keep his genuine care and affection for Aemond hidden any longer.
But he doesn’t need to.
Jace doesn’t know who moves first, but suddenly they’re both desperately clutching each other in a tight embrace. Jace hugs his uncle tight, never wanting to let go. He clenches his eyes shut, shoving his face into Aemond’s chest and against his white hair. He missed him .
It’s obvious that Aemond feels the same. His arms around Jace’s waist are holding him close, and he buries his face in the crook of Jace’s neck. Jace thinks he can even feel Aemond shaking against him.
They’re both trembling, forcing themselves to be silent although it is all Jace wants to sob in happiness. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed Aemond. How much he might even love him.
Is Aemond the reason why Jace has never given any girls (or boys) his age a second look? Why he’s never been interested in marrying when his mother brings it up? Why he can only think about white hair and sharp features as he pleasures himself?
Jace’s internal spiral is abruptly cut off when Aemond shifts, and his leg brushes just barely against Jace’s cock.
Jace inhales sharply into Aemond’s chest, going rigid immediately.
He hadn’t even realized he was aroused, but now that attention has been drawn to it, Jace is not able to focus on anything else. He trembles slightly in Aemond’s hold, clenching his eyes shut with the self-control it takes to stop himself from grinding his hips against Aemond’s leg.
Mixed with the arousal is horrified embarrassment. There’s no way Aemond hasn’t noticed his erection, not when they’re embracing this tightly. Jace finds himself wishing for death, right here in the wardrobe of the Hand of the King —
But then, Aemond exhales hotly against Jace’s cheek, and slowly moves his thigh against Jace’s cock.
Jace’s mouth drops open in a silent moan as all thoughts in his head are promptly extinguished. Aemond moves his hands down to grab Jace’s ass, squeezing and pulling his hips against him. Jace eagerly follows the motion, bucking his hips up, and that’s when he feels Aemond’s hardness.
It’s big and provides delicious friction against Jace’s own. It’s also evidence that Aemond wants Jace as much as Jace wants him, and that realization is what makes Jace move his hips faster.
He’s so mindful of not making noise that he’s trying not to breathe, because he knows if he does then a moan is sure to follow. Aemond just feels so good against him, his entire being so hot and big and comforting. He’s so tall, his hands are so large on Jace’s ass, and his lips feel amazing where they press open-mouthed kisses into Jace’s neck.
There’s no hope of moving slowly. That would probably be smart, but as it is Jace has just enough mental capacity to hold back his moans. He can’t control his hips from rubbing against Aemond, or his hands from grabbing onto Aemond’s hair. Aemond can’t seem to control himself much either, pulling Jace close and grinding against him in a sinful rhythm.
It’s driving Jace absolutely insane. He’s so hot he feels like he’s burning, his cock is so hard and wet from precum. He thrusts faster, taking all the friction he can get. He lifts his head from Aemond’s chest to search for his mouth, desperate to kiss him, to taste his mouth —
Distantly, there’s a sound like a chair being pushed back and a few papers gathered up, followed by footsteps and the creak of a door. But Jace can’t process it through the blood rushing in his ears, the pleasure making his cock throb.
Aemond turns his head to find Jace’s mouth and finally, they’re kissing. Aemond’s mouth is soft and warm against Jace’s lips. Their kiss is passionate and wet, Aemond wasting no time in darting his tongue out to lick into Jace’s mouth, and Jace can’t hold back anymore and moans.
He moans, because it feels so good and it’s all he’s wanted for years. Aemond feels amazing, and every inch of Jace’s body that he touches feels like it’s on fire.
Their hips are moving against each other in earnest, and as the pleasure builds inside him Jace’s knees start to feel weak. He can’t stop kissing Aemond, it’s just too good, he never wants them to part, he never wants this to stop.
Aemond’s moaning now too and gods, the sounds he’s making. Jace feels way too hot, sweat dripping down his temples, and the pleasure continues to grow and grow as he and Aemond rut against each other and all Jace can think is Aemond, Aemond, Aemond —
Jace whines brokenly as he reaches his peak and comes, latching onto Aemond’s shoulders so hard his nails scratch the leather. He shivers as the pleasure whites-out his senses, and a warm, sticky wetness spreads in his breeches.
Aemond chokes on a gasp and grips Jace’s ass hard, pulling him against his hips one last time before tensing up. Jace forces his eyes open and moans when he sees Aemond’s face lax, eye rolling back in his head as he comes.
When Jace comes back down, all he can think is beautiful, so beautiful, I might love him —
A moment later, his senses now returned to him, he realizes that there are no more sounds coming from the Hand’s office. No footsteps, no shuffling of papers, no breathing. Nothing except for the heavy inhales and exhales of himself and Aemond as they catch their breath.
Afraid to look at Aemond after what just happened, fearful of finding regret coloring his face, Jace instead tugs Aemond’s arm and pushes the wardrobe open.
They stumble out onto the stone floor, shaking and drained and breathing in gulps of fresh air.
The room is empty, and the door is closed.
Jace tries not to be disappointed. He didn’t want to be stuck in that wardrobe forever, but now he misses Aemond again. Misses his touch, his taste, his smell —
But Jace forces himself to ignore his desires, and slowly dares to look at Aemond.
His uncle appears just as frazzled as Jace feels. His clothes are rumpled, his hair is tangled, and his mouth is red and swollen. Jace’s heart skips a beat. Did he do that?
Aemond catches his eye then, and they both immediately glance away, blushing.
“So, uh..” Jace clears his throat. “What were you doing in here?”
“What were you?” Aemond shoots back, without any real heat.
Jace straightens up.
“As I am sure you have noticed,” Jace drawls, “Your grand-sire holds ill-intent for my mother.”
Aemond snorts once. Then, he chuckles darkly.
Jace’s gaze snaps to him, blinking in surprise. What — ?
His smile is quite nice, Jace thinks, watching him laugh.
“Yes, I have noticed,” Aemond replies, laughter quieting down. “He holds ill-intent for many. I hate him.”
Jace frowns. Aemond sighs.
“I was probably here for the same reason as you,” Aemond explains, mouth twisting. “Trying to find something incriminating.”
Jace doesn’t understand. “But he is your family — ”
“So what?” Aemond spits. “He is awful. The things he has done — Mother — ”
Aemond stops talking, then takes a deep breath. Jace doesn’t like how distressed he seems, and hesitantly reaches out to hold Aemond’s hand in support. He’s only able to since they just did much worse in the wardrobe.
Aemond looks down at their entwined hands, unmoving. Jace thinks there may be a pink blush on his beautiful face.
“Anyway,” Aemond says, clearing his throat. “I am glad we were not caught.”
“Yes,” Jace replies, smiling. He’s sure he’s blushing now too, the memory of what they’d just done while hiding together very fresh in his mind (and rapidly cooling in his pants).
Aemond definitely blushes then.
“I got something, though,” Aemond says then, reaching into his pocket and holding up a crumpled paper. “It should be enough to get him banished.”
Jace beams and squeezes Aemond’s hand that he still hasn’t let go of.
“You truly are the best.”
Aemond’s face really turns red, and he quickly pulls his hand out of Jace’s hold and turns away.
Jace wilts a little, but tries to convince himself that it’s fine. Aemond doesn’t have to return his feelings. He succeeded in finding something against Otto, and that’s the most important thing —
“I will bring it to you tomorrow,” Aemond coughs. “Daemon can bring it to the King.”
Before Jace can nod, Aemond quickly spins back around and grabs Jace’s shoulders. Jace opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, but Aemond quickly leans down and captures Jace’s lips in a messy kiss.
Jace immediately reacts, reaching out to hold the back of Aemond’s head, holding him close. He closes his eyes, kissing Aemond with everything he has. He’s always had trouble holding himself back.
Just as quickly as it begins, it stops. Aemond pulls back, face flushed and still looking extremely out-of-sorts. His lips are twitching into a smile.
“I will see you tomorrow,” he murmurs, walking quickly to the door.
“Aemond!” Jace calls, exhilarated.
Aemond stops, his hand on the door.
There are many things Jace wishes to say to him, but for most of them there will time later. For now, Jace settles on the thought that’s been plaguing his mind ever since seeing Aemond in the practice yard all those hours ago, for the first time in years.
“I missed you,” Jace murmurs.
Aemond’s body relaxes.
“... I missed you too,” he whispers.
Then he pushes open the door, and is gone.
Jace remains in place, a broad smile growing on his face.
Tonight didn’t go at all like he planned. He doesn’t have anything to take back to Daemon tonight like he hoped, having not found any evidence himself.
But perhaps, Jace found something better.