Tartare

Roast sees Jess gathering a few things one day, and curiously approaches him, affectionately placing an arm on the shorter man's waist. "Where are you going?"

"An interview." Jess smiled. "We might be getting a new kitchen boy."

"Really!" Roast claps his hands. "I love when we get new boys. Do you know what he would be yet?"

"Not yet, I haven't met him. I've only seen pictures." Jess opened one of his notebooks and took out a photo, handing it to Roast. "But doesn't he look sweet?"

Roast grins. "Yes, he does. I remember sending you my picture...I was so shy, I must have taken about a thousand..." The taller man blushes, grinning shyly at Jess.

"That many?" Jess raised an eyebrow. "Goodness." he put the picture back into his book, putting his things into a satchel. "Anyway, we'll need a new boy soon, Shank is going to be our midsummer feast and we'll be a boy short."

"I love the midsummer feast..." Roast says, a little dreamily. "And Shank is definitely ready. He looks like...well, sort of like a woman who's giving birth soon, you know?" He chatters on quickly to hide his blush, and to avoid answering the question.

"Glowing, or round?" Jess chuckled, picking up his satchel. He kissed Roast's forehead, making the boy lean down so he could reach. "You're in charge."

"Glowing," Roast giggles, then beams down at the kiss. "Yes, sir!" he says, grinning so wide he shows his teeth. "I hope he works out! Can I read his letter?"

Jess nodded, fishing it out of his bag and handing it to Roast. "I have to get down to the boat. Christian's probably getting impatient." he waved and left.

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. Do you need this?" He waves the letter at his chef's retreating form. "...I guess not..." He waves and blows Jess a kiss.

***

Christian is, indeed, impatiently waiting by the boat, playing with the photo of Dog he takes with him whenever they're separated.

"No picture of Yves?" Jess asked from over his shoulder.

Christian shoves the picture back into his pocket a little guiltily. "What are you talking about? What took you so long?"

"A picture of Dog? Your husband won't be too pleased about that. I'm sure he'd take some sexy pictures for you to take with you." Jess grinned. "And I got waylaid by Roast."

"...I'm sure he already has..." the guard says, wryly. "And...well...I've known Dog longer. Shut up. Get in the boat." He grabs Jess' bags and easily tosses them into the boat, making some suspicious metal clanking noises. "...what've you got in here?" he asks.

"Lots of things." Jess arranges himself comfortably in the boat, moving his bags under the seat for safety. "Are we going?"

"Yes." Christian nods to the silent boatman, who begins steering them across the water to the mainland. "Is he meeting us in London? And really, what's in the bags? I thought this was just an interview?"

"It is just an interview. But one should always be prepared." Jess stretched and yawned, relaxing. "And yes, London."

Christian raises an eyebrow. "...fine, be all mysterious." He settles down on his own seat, a little sulkily. He sticks his tongue out at Jess when he thinks the chubby man isn't looking.

"Have you ever eaten tongue?"

"...what? Ew. No. I don't think so. Have I?" He frowns at Jess, perplexed.

"No. And if you do that again, you won't be able to taste it when I cook it for you." Jess stuck out his tongue at Christian.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Christian says with an overly theatrical yawn.

Jess just smiled, closing his eyes for a nap.

***

Jess was early for the interview and went about the commercial cooking lab preparing what they would need.

Mason is also early, but not as early as Jess, and arrives a little out of breath, looking a little flustered. Seeing that Jess is already there, he pales slightly and looks at his watch to make sure he's not late, but quickly pulls himself together, tapping softly on the door frame to let Jess know he's arrived.

"Come in." Jess turned, smiling at him.

Mason smiles shyly, and lightly steps inside. "Are you...Jess?" he asks in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Yes. We can talk here, there's no one about." Jess said wryly. "So, you're interested in cooking for me and being eaten. Why?"

The boy's eyes widen and he glances around nervously, as though he expects men in dark sunglasses to jump out and yell 'Ah ha!' "Ah...yes..." he says, smiling a little.

Jess raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," he says more firmly. "I am interested in cooking for you and...being eaten..." he says the last almost flirtatiously.

"Because...I..." he frowns, trying to think of the 'right' answer, that isn't just 'because the thought of it turns me on'. "Because I think it's a good thing to do with my life," he says.

Jess chuckled. Most of the boys had given answers like that. He was familiar with the interview process for normal work, but his idea of an interview was more blunt. "And it's a sexual need for you?"

Mason nibbles his lip gently, then looks up at Jess, nodding. "Yes," he says, firmly.

"Good. It's the same for all the boys, as well as me. Have you cooked in a kitchen before?"

Mason smiles, looking relieved. "...oh. Well that's less awkward. I haven't cooked in a very big kitchen, certainly nothing very fancy, but I have cooked in several cafes..."

"What I'll be needing is a commis, someone under a prep chef. You'll be chopping vegetables and you'll have a prep chef to keep an eye on you until you've proven yourself. Do you think you could handle that?"

The boy grins, nodding. "Yes," he says, without hesitation.

"It can be a heavy workload. We prepare three meals a day and some of the meals can take hours of work. You have to get up early and I don't tolerate laziness."

Mason nods again. "I read all of the information you sent me. I even read the list of books you recommended. I...I want to try this."

"Well the first contract is three months. After that, we'll have another talk and you can leave or we'll make another contract. Would you be able to commit to three months? There's no contact with family or friends outside the house."

Mason nods and looks a little pained. "...my boyfriend just dumped me. We'd been living together almost three years. ...and he mostly dumped me for not coming out to my family, so...no one would be looking for me."

"Alright." Jess nodded, getting up from his chair and going over to the counter. There was a selection of vegetables, meats and knives. "Dice these."

Mason begins to dice, a little more slowly than a professional chef, but still competently.

"Good. Move your fingers back over the pepper like this." Jess shows him how to hold the pepper and cut quickly without fear of cutting his fingers. He shows Mason how to do it slowly, then speeds up to his usual speed.

Mason's eyes widen--he's seen cooking shows where people chop that quickly, but had always half-suspected that it was sped up. He's certainly never seen it done in real life. He does his best to copy Jess' motions.

Jess nods. "Good. Don't worry about speed yet, that takes lots of practice. By the end of your three months, you'll be much faster."

Mason grins, pleased by the praise. "...thank you. So...does that mean I...pass?" he asks.

"So far." Jess chuckles. He gets Mason to chop and slice a few more things, testing his knowledge of knives and food safety. He quizzes him about historical cooking and kitchens. Finally he nods. "Would you step into the other room with me?"

Mason nods, not sure what to expect.

The chubby man locks the door behind them. "Would you undress?"

Mason nibbles his lip again, and undresses--he's average height, fairly lanky, with curly dark hair on his head and spreading up from his groin.

Jess moves without hesitation or permission, touching the boy's arms and chest, turning him about and almost massaging his back down to his thighs.

Mason enjoys the touching, and clearly doesn't mind being moved about to Jess' liking.

"Mmm, yes, you'll do." Jess murmurs. "You are going to be replacing Shank, however, I think you will make a good Steak Tartare. In my kitchen, you won't be Mason anymore. You'll be Tartare."

Mason--now Tartare--nods, looking a little nervous, but, ah...visibly excited.

"Are you ready to leave today?" Jess asked.

Tartare nods, trying to hide his disappointment

"Good. Get your things and meet me at the docks as soon as you can. We'll be waiting." Jess told him, collecting his things and cleaning up.

Tartare nods and dresses, going home to pack.

***

Jess met Christian back at the ship, tossing him his bags.

Christian smiles knowingly at his friend. "You're taking him, aren't you?" He catches the bags.

"He'll be here soon." Jess grinned back.

"Have you named him already?"

"Tartare."

Christian looks blank.

"Steak tartare... Honestly, do you ever know what you're eating or do you just chew?"

Christian just looks at him. "Do I even have to answer that?"

Jess just shakes his head in disbelief. "It's finely chopped, good quality strip steak. Served raw."

"...raw?" Christian looks repulsed. "Before I lived here, my idea of fancy dining was a steak at Denny's." He smirks.

"Ugh." Jess made a face. "Americans."

Christian sticks his tongue out at Jess--quickly retracting it. "Yeah, yeah. We're not all fancy-shmancy like you. Why would you eat raw steak?"

"I'll give you some and you can answer that for me."

"I'd rather not die, thanks."

"Trust me, it won't kill you. You eat steak rare, don't you?"

"Sometimes, yeah...why?"

"You really think that rare beef is any less dangerous than raw beef?" Jess raised an eyebrow.

"...yes..." Christian gives the chef a 'duh' face.

Jess rolled his eyes. "Hopeless."

Christian shrugs. "Yeah. I like it that way. That's why I'm a guard and you're a chef. Where is he?" He looks as though he can hear Dog whining from here.

"He has to pack up his life, Christian, it might take him a little while."

Christian grumbles. "I want fish and chips. That's what England has, right? Fish and chips?"

"Yes. I'll fry some for you when we get home."

"...can't I get some now, while we wait?" Christian...is not good at waiting.

"Oh look, there he is." Thank god, thought Jess.

Tartare waves shyly to the large, frowny man standing by the boat, and grins a little at Jess. He has a small suitcase.

"That's all you're bringing?" Jess raised an eyebrow. Most of the boys had very little in way of a life here, but most of them at least brought more bags.

Tartare nods. "It said that clothes are provided, and that's most of what I have..."

Jess nodded. "Alright. Christian, are we ready?" he grinned, helping Tartare into the boat.

***

Tartare watches for his new home during the boat ride, leaning forward and enjoying the ocean spray. He's curious about Christian, but also intimidated by him. He finds himself staring at the larger man, quite...interested.

Jess watches this with some amusement. He can't wait to see how this works out with Yves, especially since Christian often hangs about the kitchen.

Tartare is distracted from his Christian-watching by the island appearing on the horizon. From the sea, it looks totally deserted, and Tartare looks concerned--maybe this was all a horrible mistake, and he's just about to die.

Jess rearranges his bags, making sure nothing has gotten wet or damaged in the trip. He made sure to get non-historical treats for all his boys, as well as a few things Yves asked him to pick up.

Tartare finds himself pressed up against Christian, having moved closer for comfort without realizing it.

Christian raises an eyebrow looking down at the lean boy. With a glare at Jess, who was grinning his face off, he wrapped an arm around Tartare.

Tartare grins a little and nestles against the larger man, enjoying the feel of his muscles, and his smell...he's powerfully reminded of Troy, simultaneously turned on and depressed.

Christian gave a little sigh, looking over Tartare at Jess with a sort of 'help me' expression. Jess stuck out his tongue at his friend.

Yves has been grooming Dog, but notices him perk up, and figures he must hear the boat. He releases Dog, and follows him at a more lady-like pace to the dock.

Christian hears barking and perks up a little. He relaxes a little. He's getting to be more and more at home on the island, though he's not sure how comfortable he is with that thought. Jess picks up his satchels - having multiplied them getting groceries and junk food- and stands while the boat docks.

Yves waves as he sees the boat come into view, blinking a little as he sees someone who isn't Jess nestled up against his husband. He shrugs--Christian isn't bright enough to be unfaithful behind his back. He goes down to the boat to meet the new boy. "Hi! I'm Yves, Christian's husband," he says, just to make sure the dark-haired boy understands. "I'm the Housekeeper here."

Tartare looks like he's been burnt and leaps out of the boat away from Christian, clutching his bag. "Hi...I'm Ma--Tartare," he says, shyly.

Christian shrugged at Yves, giving him an apologetic look. He wasn't sure if he was in trouble or not.

Jess ignored the drama, passing Yves one of the satchels. "Your contraband, sweet Yves." he said, getting out of the boat.

Yves shakes his head at Christian and smiles, showing he doesn't care. He squeals at Jess, giving him a peck on the cheek. "If I'd known you were bringing so much, I would have brought Dog's cart. Tartare, this is Dog. Dog, Tartare. ...my husband is very imaginative at naming things." He smiles at Christian.

Christian scowled at his wife, taking the bag from him. "I'll carry it."

Jess smirked.

"Thank you, dear," Yves says. "So you've come to join our madness?" the elegant blond asks Tartare. "My husband is the Guard here, in case you were wondering."

"Oh, that... yes." he stuttered, managing a smile for the tall, graceful man. He felt very inadequate standing next to Yves.

"...are you alright?" Yves asks. "I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but you'll love the other kitchen boys, and Roast will take great care of you." He smiles at the shorter, darker boy.

He nods, smiling meekly. He ends up following Jess closely, feeling almost... homesick. If this much drama can happen before he's even in the house, what could possibly be in store for him there?

Yves shrugs--can't be everyone's type. He discreetly steals Dog so Christian won't have that distraction and will be alone with the new boy. "Jess, would you help me put all this away? I'm sure Christian can get Tartare settled."

Jess raises an eyebrow, but says, "Of course. Christian, he'll need his uniform before he can work, just take him to the room and make him feel at home. I'll have your paperwork for tomorrow." the head chef nods encouragingly to Tartare.

Christian gives Yves a look.

Yves looks innocent and ruffles Dog's ears, following Jess.

Tartare is left alone with Christian, looking rather shy and awkward.

Christian shrugged, putting an arm around Tartare. "You okay?"

Tartare smiles up at the larger man. "Mm-hmm," he says, looking a little confused (but certainly not unhappy) at the arm.

"That's good. You'll be fine here."

He led him to the servant's door, taking him down to the kitchen.

Tartare follows meekly, gazing in awe at everything. "Wow...I mean, I heard that it was all nineteenth century, but...wow."

"Yeah, I know. Wait til you use your first chamberpot." Christian smirked. "This is the kitchen." he opened the door, letting Tartare smell everything cooking and see the boys all busily chopping and frying and baking and cleaning. Veal waves at them from his hammock, smiling.

Tartare looks a little overwhelmed, pressed to Christian's side like a nervous child.

"You'll be working with Stock, right?" Christian asked.

Tartare nods.

"Well, that's Stock over there." he pointed to a tall, wiry boy. Stock was busily chopping onions.

Tartare watches him chop for a minute, before glancing at Christian one more time and heading over to the man he'll be working with.

Christian let him go, hoping he wouldn't get in the way of Steak as he crossed the kitchen. Stock looked up, smiling at the boy who still wore non-period clothes. "You must be the new boy." he wiped his hand on his apron and offered it to Tartare.

Tartare smiles back and nods. "I'm...Tartare. Are you Stock? I think we'll be working together."

"We will. It's nice to meet you." Stock smiled, a little shyly. "Well, you should go get set up, you don't start until tomorrow. I'll be done in about an hour or so, I'll meet you in our room and we can have dinner together later."

Tartare nods, relieved. "I'd like that," he says, more confidently. "I'll let you get back to work." He returns to Christian.

"I'll see you soon." Stock watched the boy go before returning to his chopping.

Christian grinned. "Want to see where you'll sleep?"

"Yes please...and I should probably change, I feel a bit weird like this."

"You'll be measured for your own clothes soon, but for now you can borrow from Stock. You're about the same size." Christian led him into the big open room that the kitchen boys shared. There were cots around the room, with a table in the middle and a few places to relax, as well as a hammock. Each bed had a chest at the end and each chest had a name stenciled onto it. Christian dug through the one labeled Stock and found what Tartare would need.

Tartare takes the clothes, expecting Christian to leave while he changes--he's still not used to the communal kind of living the servants have.

Christian watched him undress, not bothering to be covert about enjoying it either.

Tartare undresses more slowly, and lingers naked when he realizes this, blushing a little, but casting little flirtatious glances Christian's way.

Christian smiled at him, gesturing him closer.

Tartare approaches, biting his lip again.

Christian opened his arms for the smaller boy, pulling him in and sitting them both on the bed. His hand trailed down Tartare's side.

Tartare shivers with delight, pressing against Christian's muscles, clearly eager.

Christian leaned over and bit the boy gently on the neck, pushing him down on the bed.

Tartare gasps at the bite, easily allowing himself to be pushed. "Aren't you married?" he asks, breathily.

"Mhm. Yves wouldn't have sent me with you if he didn't want me to fuck you." Christian murmured into the other's ear, nibbling around the lobe. He laid on top of the other, grinding against the boy through the pants of his uniform.

"Ohhh..." Tartare sighs, by way of answering. "Ok then..." he giggles a little. "...won't the others hear?" he asks, grinding back as much as he can beneath the other.

"Do you mind?" Christian sat up, kneeling to unbutton his trousers, his erection springing free.

Tartare gasps and squirms, shaking his head. "Mm-mm..."

"Good." Christian pulled Tartare up to suck him while he unbuttoned his jacket, vest and shirt.

Tartare sucks eagerly, using his teeth just a little, the way Troy always liked.

"Mmm..." Christian groaned, rocking a bit to get more friction. Soon he was naked, after kicking off his boots and pants. He pushed Tartare back. "Are you a virgin?"

Tartare laughs. "...no." He watches Christian, very aroused by what he sees, shivering with anticipation.

Christian grabbed some lube from the side of the bed - most of them kept lube by their beds- and prepared them both quickly. He lifted Tartare's hips and pressed his cock to the boy's entrance, watching for any expression of discomfort.

Tartare groans with delight, arching to meet Christian's cock, pushing himself back so quickly that it almost hurts, making him cry out with his need. He realizes tears are running down his face, but he ignores them, letting them fall to the pillow.

Christian pulled the boy up so he's impaled in Christian's lap, held by his strong arms. He kissed the tears away, rocking slowly and nudging Tartare's prostate.

Tartare cries harder, but his noises are definitely happy ones as he writhes in Christian's lap, driving himself down on the cock

Christian groans, pulling Tartare down further by his hips, one arm wrapped around the boy's back, his other starting to stroke Tartare's cock.

Tartare shakes wildly, arching against the strong arm, enjoying the muscles and mild restraint, groaning as his cock is stroked.

After Christian is reasonably sure Tartare isn't crying out of pain anymore, he flips the smaller man onto his back and fucks him hard into the bed.

Tartare begins moaning in earnest, hands wrapped deep in the blanket, hips rocking to meet Christian's thrusts, feet arched.

Christian groans as he starts to reach his limit, biting the boy's shoulder. He cums in Tartare, arching his back and pinning the boy's wrists as he does.

Tartare screams as he cums, pushing against the hands holding his wrists before going limp, panting, beneath the larger man.

Christian sits up after a moment, pulling out. He grins at Tartare.

"Ahh!" Tartare groans as Christian pulls out, grinning back at him. He briskly wipes his tears away, as casually as he can.

Christian scooped the boy up, taking him to the bed with no name and snuggling with him.