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Duplicity IC Inbox [ un: jbenjamin ]
you've reached jack benjamin. clearly, I have better things to do.
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you've reached jack benjamin. clearly, I have better things to do.
you've reached jack benjamin. clearly, I have better things to do.
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but there is that bottle of booze, and steve does address him like it's totally average to come home to captain america getting plastered in his living room, rather than walk in on the event occurring in bucky's. maybe bucky's around somewhere, but a cursory glance tells him, no, nowhere in sight. ]
All quiet on the front, Captain. You seem to be enjoying yourself. [ tugging his wallet and keys free, he tosses those on a desk nearby, and comes to stand on the opposite side of the coffee table, watching steve with an amused smirk. ] What's the occasion?
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❰ tomayto tomahto. steve takes a deep breath, opens his mouth, seems to rethink it and takes another sip of liquor. he's not nearly drunk, but you know. placebo effect, or something. ❱
I need a favor from you.
❰ so much more than a favor, this is a really weird thing to ask, but... who else would it be? who else could test the give of steve's spine and force him into place? (bucky, obviously, but he's the reason this whole thing is necessary in the first place, so it's different.) jack may be smaller than steve, weaker, but his spine is made of just as much steel. ❱
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but jack isn't bucky, and thus, he can't predict at all where this is going. even if it were about bucky, he's not sure steve would feel anxiety enough to bring it up to him along to need liquid courage. but, here he is, and jack's brow furrows, head at a tilt as he tries to read the situation before it unfolds. ]
Alright... How can I be of service?
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well, bucky already explained to him about the first blowjob. it's not like jack is unaware of his sex life. ❱
Bucky and I talked, the other day. After you and I did. One thing led to another, we... did some things I didn't even know I wanted to do. He choked me, ❰ he's not blushing, he's meeting jack's eyes, this is fine, he can talk about this, it's fine. ❱ fucked, uh. Fucked my throat. ❰ there's really no other word for it, there just isn't, his throat was raw for almost a whole day afterward. ❱
He dominated me. And I liked it.
❰ steve shifts, now, his eyes finally dropping from jack's to look at the bottle in front of him instead. it'd be easier if he hadn't liked it. if he'd been as disgusted by it as he is by everything else in duplicity. but it seems whoever's bringing them here knows what they're doing, and steve's designation is more apt than he would have ever wanted to believe. ❱
I want to know if that's just — if it's something that's in me, or if it's just Bucky.
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okay, clearing his throat, paying attention. being a decent person. steve looks ready to explode off into space with anxiety, so jack does him the favor of evening the playing field, pacing over to take seat a few feet from him on the couch, though leaned forward, elbows on his knees and fingers threaded together as he rolls the information through his head. ]
Honestly, Steve, if you liked it, it's probably just you. Bucky's incredible, but his dick isn't magic.
[ it's not like he can brainwash a person into enjoying being a thing they weren't at least okay with prior to the event. and jack's getting the feeling that's the upset here - steve, filling in this role he despises so much, and enjoy to feeling of it. worried what that means for fighting his good fight. but, more to the point of what exactly steve's asking of him here. ]
Clarify something for me. When you came to wait for me, was it talk and thoughts alone you were looking for, or is there something else you're needing? [ because he has an idea of where steve's head might be, but that's nothing he's acting on until 1, he knows that's actually what's wanted and 2, he covers a couple other things first. ]
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Something else.
❰ which is worse, talking about his sex life with jack or inviting him into it? guess we're finding out. ❱
I want, if you're willing, for you to try to replicate the effect. I was...
❰ how the fuck does he explain the strange fog that crowded everything else in his brain out? the sense of peace that came with being bucky's to use and command? it sounds stupid, even in his own head. ❱
It was like I was underwater, ❰ he says eventually, slowly, feeling out every part of the sentence as he says it. ❱ And everything that wasn't Bucky was abovewater. I knew it was still there and it was real and it would matter at some point, but it was all distorted and far away. I didn't have to worry about it, because I only had to think about Bucky.
If you can get me there again, whatever that was — it's not just him.
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Subspace. That's the term for it. [ he says it like he's excited, because he kind of is. to make this dom training thing work, he's been picking up books to pour through next to his piles of law and regulation crap to study. it's actually turned out surprisingly interesting, more so that just from the faking it standpoint. while he still doesn't agree with Duplicity's means of enforcement, the actual concepts involved in some of Dom/Sub play are pretty intriguing. This being one of them. ] You're far from the only person to experience that, and it's actually something your body does when you reach a certain mental state, triggering a release of hormones in a chemical cocktail that feels a lot like morphine for some.
[ yes, jack, you've done research, everyone's very proud of you, now shut up. steve's not a book, he's a person, and more than that, he's one jack cares about, and he's freaked out. reeling it back in, he smiles instead, warm and simple. honest. ]
But, yeah. I'm willing. [ and it sounds stupidly hot, because steve is stupidly hot, and jack wants it. ]
I need to ask you a few questions first. [ most importantly, before anything else: ] Does Bucky know we're doing this?
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Subspace.
❰ there's a word for it. it might be a stupid, made up word only used here in duplicity, it might be a thing elsewhere, steve doesn't know, but it's still a word. other people have experienced it. he's not alone, or bizarre, or some kind of pervert (though he thinks he probably still qualifies as that, just given the whole choking thing). it's as relieving as it is terrifying. he doesn't want duplicity to have been right. ❱
Thank you, ❰ he says at jack's acquiescence, looking back to him, almost painfully sincere. his question makes steve's face screw up a little, confused and a little offended, almost. ❱
Of course.
❰ they're not together, really, steve still needs time before he can be sure he's got his shit together enough to be with him, but they are... submissive and dominant bullshit aside, bucky has a claim on him. steve wouldn't violate that without bucky's permission. ❱
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he seems almost offended at the question, and jack's lips quirk into a half-smile, finding it sweet steve assumes bucky's claim to him is so clear and obvious a thing, that he'd never break loyalty to. it is, in some regards, but people do act against their nature at times of great stress. so, the asking. ]
Okay. Just making sure.
[ and with bucky's assent, jack considers that the seal on that yes he gave him - they're going to do this. from the anxiety apparent all over steve, he's guessing he means to do it now, which, honestly, jack's fine with, so he eases himself up, covers the few feet between them, and settles down much closer to steve's side. he's scared and anxious and uncomfortable, and that's no state to do this in, so jack's intent on getting him to relax with him first. leaning back against one of the couch arms, he reaches for steve's shoulders, guiding him to lean against him, steve's back to jack's front, so he can wrap his arms around him. stroke a palm over the center of his chest, and push his other hand into his hair, scratching light against his scalp. jack's voice is a quiet murmur, intimate between the two of them. ] Let me ask you what's alright for me to do with you. If anything happens that you don't like, if it ends up being too much, or if you're not enjoying yourself anymore, just tell me 'Stop'. We'll try something else, or we'll stop all together, whichever you want.
[ they aren't doing any kind of play with consent, jack's not the person to go to for that either way, so that word's are hardly likely to come up otherwise. his fingers brush back through steve's hair, admiring he golden-blond shade of it between his fingers. reminds him of someone a little, but this is purely about steve, and jack pushes that far, far out of his mind. leaning down, he drops a light kiss on steve's shoulder, over the fabric of his shirt, and another a couple inches further in. ]
You said Bucky choked you. Is it alright if I do that? [ once get gets a yes or no, or a nod or a shake, he asks the next. no rush in getting the answers out, he'll wait patiently for steve to decide. the next - ] Can I cover your eyes? [ the next after that answer - ] Can I tie your hands together?
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'stop' seems a relatively simple safeword, but hey, steve's not complaining. jesus, this is the gentlest jack has ever been with him, and it feels — weird. on the one hand he appreciate that jack is making the effort, on the other he hates being treated like he's made of glass.
relaxing. letting this happen, letting jack do whatever he needs to do. steve asked for this, and he's not going to make it harder for jack to give him what he wants. ❱
Yes, ❰ he says to each question, but the last he tilts his head back and into the crook of jack's neck, trying to glance up at him. mostly all he can see is jack's jaw and a bit of his cheek. ❱ I can get out of most forms of binding. If you want to tie me up, you're going to need some heavy-duty stuff.
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jack's about to pull his arms back, and just grab the bottle from the table for him instead, when steve starts going off about breaking binding and needing heavy-duty stuff. uh, well, you came to a non-powered human to dom you, steve, what kind of actual physical control were you expecting him to be able to exert over you, if it's going to be a fight? and then it sort of clicks - he didn't come to him for strength like bucky has, he came to him because he's a pathological control freak, with teeth that sink in sharp and venomous and undeniable (unless you're bucky barnes, apparently). any other time, jack might've felt insulted by it, maybe, possibly, but right now, something inside him uncoils and stretches like a jungle cat, purring. why yes, he can do that.
the arm over steve's chest curls, hooking over the opposite shoulder, leaving steve's throat trapped in at the bend of his elbow, and jack's lips brush against the shell of his ear, something a little too dark and low for casual conversation. gradually, as he speaks, the hand in steve's hair curls tighter and tighter, until the pull on the strands is biting at his scalp. ]
And if I tell you not to break the binding, are you going to give me problems?
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he's about to push up to sitting, suggest another tac, when jack's arm curls possessively around his throat. steve stills immediately, wary, fully aware he could force jack off of him without even having to try very hard — but he chooses not to. the pressure on his trachea is light but insistent, tells steve that like he is choosing not to fight, jack is choosing not to choke him. the hand in his hair tightens and tugs, and steve closes his eyes, tipping back into the pull.
yeah, this is better. ❱
No.
❰ he asked for help, and jack is starting to figure out what that means. he'll be good. ❱
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Good boy.
[ he hand in his hair releases as well, sweeping down to cup under steve's chin instead, tilting his head far enough back that jack can watch him closely, eyes impassive, only a vague smirk on his lips. yeah, this'll be fun.
more tugging steve's face in than leaning over himself, jack captures steve's lips, kissing him slow and languid, but with a bite to it, teeth sinking in against the fullness of his lip, like testing the give of the skin, before he pulls back and away. actually away - he pushes up from the couch, and meanders off to the front door, setting the lock. nobody needs to be wandering in on this later. ]
Wait there. I'll be back.
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jack gets up and walks off and it knocks steve off balance, tipping him gracelessly onto his side. he likes that too, he thinks, the way his comfort seems to have turned into an afterthought for jack. steve pushes himself back up to sitting and raises an eyebrow at jack, but does as directed and remains seated on the couch. he only moves to take another sip from his glass — it's still half-full by the time jack returns, and steve is only barely beginning to feel a buzz. ❱
Do you have any limits I should know about, things you don't want me doing? ❰ he calls, twisting around in his seat to try to see where jack's gone. ❱
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[ playing dominant may not be the most emotionally fulfilling thing for jack, but god it's fun. he catches steve toppling over out of the corner of his eyes (doesn't look back, that's not the game, and it's not what steve needs). this is basically a gift dropped in his lap, able to help out steve while indulging his less wholesome side, and getting to touch that body in the process. yeah, seems about like his birthday.
as he rummages around in another room, he calls back his answer - ] Follow directions. Don't break anything. That's really it.
[ there isn't much steve can do to him with this kind of set up, jack thinks, and he doesn't plan on giving steve much room for freedom besides. he considers telling him to stay quiet, but he likes steve talking right now. considers making a 'sir' protocol, but that's a little much, and they aren't here for what that kind of thing fulfills. steve needs a good, solid push, and jack's thinking he knows how to make that happen.
when jack comes wandering back into the living room, still dressed entirely in his suit from work, he's whistling the tune from Kill Bill, and flipping a hammer in one hand, end over end, a fairly large nail in the other hand. ]
Don't worry, it's not for you. [ every word that drips form his lips seems to come with some level of amused mocking or sarcasm. at least, every word that isn't a command. these are flat, simple, leaves no room for argument, nothing about them sounding like suggestions. the wooden haft of the hammer taps at the top of Steve's shoulder as jack passes by, on the way to the wall. ] Strip.
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it takes a moment for steve to begin to comply, but eventually he sits forward, unlaces his shoes, begins to pull them off. he strips slowly, giving jack time to do whatever it is he's doing and join him, kicking his shoes to the side and starting on his belt. he doesn't hesitate on his shirt, only pauses a second before shoving down his pants and underwear at the same time — he used plenty communal showers in the war, that this nudity is happening in a different context only makes him nervous for a second. once he's bare, he turns to look at jack, hands on his hips, eyebrow raised.
well? did he do good? when are you getting undressed, jack? ❱
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as steve's stripping down, jack's clearing out space next to a wall, suit jacket shrugged off and tossed on a nearby chair for the sake of movement, then standing up close to the wall, raising a hand, let's see, Steve's about 3 inches taller than him, then if you push up on your toes... yep, should be right here. great - that's where the nail goes in, and jack hammers it in, leaving about three or four inches of the it still exposed, whistling as he works. by the time he's done, steve's zipper sounds, and jack turns just in time to see his pants hit the floor.
god in motherfucking heaven, it should be criminal to be this gorgeous. of course, none of that shows on jack's face, just an arched brow over assessing eyes, as he glances over him, pacing closer as he idly swings the hammer in one hand. jack doesn't look over his face - he knows what steve's face looks like. he's inspecting his body, as he paces a slow circle around him, ringed hand reaching out to brush against steve's abs, down to his hips, entirely bypassing his cock as he lets the touch fall away, circling around to his back. ]
Well that's entirely unfair. [ steve has the ass of a chiseled marble statue, and what jack wouldn't give to bend him over the couch and rail him, but that ass is bucky's, and that's just so painful knowing it's right there. ] Big brother gets all the best toys, doesn't he?
[ that said just before a loud smack rings out in the apartment, jack's hand slapping hard against the firm muscle of steve's ass, enough that a reddish-pink shadow is left in the wake of it. no one said he couldn't touch, right? so, yes steve, you did good. finishing his inspection, jack comes back around to steve's front, hands pulling at the knot of his tie as he gives another command. ]
Hands. [ give them. they're his now. for the next however long they're doing this. ]
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ever since steve got the serum, people have been looking at him as an object. phillips wanted him sent to a lab to be studied, brandt wanted him to be a walking bonds advertisement, fury wanted him to be a weapon to be pointed at shield's enemies, tony wanted him to be a whipping boy for his daddy issues — everyone wants him to be something other than what he is. something inhuman, untouchable, both more and less than all of them at the same time. it's something you get used to, whether you want it or not, going into every interaction assessing what want this person or that person is looking for you to fill. steve has never once enjoyed it, merely accepted it.
there is an element of discomfort as jack looks him over, but it's not the treatment that's bothering steve. or, it is, but it's bothering him that it isn't bothering him. if anything it's making his heart beat faster, his skin prickling everywhere jack touches him. he's just an attractive body to jack right now, no thoughts about what's in his head, no expectations to fill save those jack specifically gives voice to, and it should be bothering him so much more than it is. jack circles around, calls him a toy, and steve inhales, sharp and confused by the way that goes straight to his dick —
and then jack's hand slaps hard into his ass, and steve stiffens as his jaw drops. he's not — that's not something he likes, or he's pretty sure it isn't, but his dick's gone from mostly flaccid to half-hard in the space of the second it took for the impact to filter up to his brain.
what the fuck is going on?
he holds out his hands when jack demands them, silent, brows drawn together in confusion, and doesn't meet jack's eyes. it would feel wrong.
why would it feel wrong? ❱
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'I like it, but I don't.' [ jack breathes out, like he knows that voice, as he tugs his tie free from his neck with a smooth jerk, then takes to wrapping it around Steve's wrists, ] 'I want it, but I shouldn't.' Sucks, doesn't it?
[ yeah, he's been there. enjoy that suffering, it blows in the kind of way crushing shame blows. With hope, he'll at least remember what he and Bucky kept insisting on for jack - it's okay, there's nothing wrong with you, etc etc. He jerks the fabric tight around Steve's wrists, looping it over and around, binding him up and wrapping the slack over the middle a few times make a sort of fabric chain about a inch or two wide between, before he ties it off. A boy scout would be proud.
When he glances up, though, Jack catches the hurt in Steve's eyes, and he knows this isn't like doing something with any other sub. Steve's having a genuine crisis here, and jack drops the play for a second, lifting Steve's arms to duck underneath them, and press himself up against Steve's bare body, arms looping around his back to sweep over his skin, tilting up to kiss him soft and sweet and apologetic. he doesn't speak it, doesn't want to interrupt what's happening, but they can take a break for a second. he didn't really get to kiss Steve properly before, anyway. ]
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before steve can get too worked up, jack's expression softens and he ducks into steve's arms, and that, that is why jack was the only person other than bucky steve could imagine coming to for this. he can be mean, yes, he can find your buttons and push them viciously, with expert precision... but in the end he doesn't really want to hurt anyone. there are lines he won't cross, not on purpose, and if he finds he has he'll turn around and place himself back on the right side again. where before steve had only tensed further under jack's gentle touches, now he relaxes, nudging his nose against jack's before kissing him back. it's sweeter than the one on the couch, more equal, and it works to settle his abruptly rattled nerves. it's as much apology from jack as it is gratitude from steve, gratitude that he hadn't chosen wrong, that jack cares to get this right, that he won't use this to hurt or humiliate him.
well, much. not any more than steve wants him to, anyway.
after a long moment of simple, soft kissing, steve bites into jack's lower lip, sharp — he's okay to keep going, jack can be mean again. maybe later they can actually talk about their shared experience of shame over something intrinsic — it'd be a long way off, if steve even could ever bring himself to articulate his feelings, but if there's anyone who might have something insightful to say it's probably jack — but right now they're in the middle of something, and steve is committed to seeing it through. ❱
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and then this bitch bites him. jack snorts a short laugh muffled against steve's lips, and yeah, okay, he gets it. we'll get on with it. time to play again, and the hand at his neck pushes up into steve's hair, gripping his hair much less kindly than he'd done on the couch, yanking steve's head back and to the side. ] Do we need to find a muzzle for you? Maybe a gag. One that holds those pretty lips open.
[ and since he already has the nice grip, jack holds onto him there, ducking back out of steve's arms and turning sharply back to his work. Jack drags Steve behind him as he heads back toward the nail wall, ending with a giving him a sharp shove towards it, jack smirking as he crosses his arms, watching. ]
Get on the wall.
[ Jack's eyes cast up towards the nail he'd just hammered in, indicatively. that's for you, dear. ] Don't damage my tie. Don't pull my nail free.
[ if the measurements are right, steve should be able to hook the tie around his wrists over the top of the nail and hold it there so long as he stands on the very tips of his toes, straining his body as far as it can go. it's more about control than restraining. ]
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a muzzle is right out (bucky's eyes sharp over black mesh, terrifying and out of control and vicious), but the mention of a gag — that makes steve's eyes darken, and he darts his tongue out to wet his pretty lips. yeah, maybe. if he can forgive himself for wanting it, that sounds... yes. something to note for later.
he follows behind jack, still grinning, even as jack's grip on his hair smarts and he stumbles a little from the awkwardness of the drag. he hadn't understood the point of the nail until now, and steve breathes in sharply as he realizes — he'll have to stretch so tall to be able to fit the tie over it. he'll have to be so controlled in order not to tear the tie or rip the nail out of the wall. it's perfect, some part of him thrills, that same part that was so pleased when bucky forced himself down his throat, that fights so hard to prove himself and push his own limits. there's no hesitance or concern about this, just his eyes lit up and bright as he wonders how long jack will have him stand there, what else he'll want him to do while he's there —
it's not part of the game, but steve can't help turning to jack and pulling him into a brief, searing kiss — you're so fucking brilliant, kid. and then he walks to the wall, puts his back to it, and stretches up on his toes, arms high above him, until he gets the tie over the nail. his calves won't begin to burn for a while yet, but steve lowers himself just a little anyway, testing how much he can allow himself to move — not at all, really, is the answer, the nail straining as soon as he drops less than an inch. pushing himself back up onto the tips of his toes, steve licks his lips again, eyes not leaving jack.
what now? ❱
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pacing back to him, he's wearing a dangerous smirk on his lips, sharp and cruel as he snaps the cloth in his hands. getting back to steve, it goes around his eyes, covering them soundly, as jack checks to make sure there's no gaps he can see through. as he ties a knot behind steve's head, he's hissing next to his ear: ]
Cheating... little... prick. [ the last word emphasized by the knot jerked tight and snug. letting his hands fall, jack leans back, but close enough steve can still feel his breath against his skin. ]
Congratulations. That's an hour. Which works out perfect - my show's on. [ hovering close for a second, jack glances down over steve's chest, the bow of his back to keep stretched, the taut muscles in his stomach. Starting just below his collarbones, jack digs his nails in against his skin, hard enough to leave bright red lines behind, even if he's not breaking the skin, and jack drags them down, along his chest, over his nipples, past his ribs, down his stomach, just an inch to either side of where cock juts out from his hips, and cuts the path off sharply, curving inward and off his body just below where his balls hang heavy. it leaves such pretty red tracks behind on steve's pale skin, and jack tries to burn the sight of it into his mind. you know, for the spank bank. ] If I hear even a thread snap on that tie, or that nail hitting the floor, you start all over again.
[ while that's one part reminding steve of the rules, it's another telling him he'll be in the room, just over on the couch, watching the TV. the penthouses are nice in that they're an open floorplan, the front door leading into a sitting room and study (the wall Steve's pinned to), leading into the living room, leading into the dining room. He can be across the house and still have an eye on Steve. a hand slaps down against steve's throat abruptly, jack dropping his body weight in against it as he leans in, and presses another searing, brief kiss to his lips, near exactly like the one steve stole, before jerking back and completely away, not so much as his exhale touching him. ] Don't miss me too much, sweetheart.
[ then, only the sounds of jack's retreating footsteps, the popping of a beer cap being removed, the rustle of fabric when he sits on the couch, and the TV switching on. you're on your own, stevie.
well, mostly. jack's not going to leave him completely unattended, that's just boring, and honestly, he's watching steve more than he is the television. a convenience of the blindfold: steve doesn't know that. nor does he know jack pulled over the stack of a couple textbooks he originally stood on, to set the nail, in front of steve, so he can easily hover at the same height as him without steve watching him look ridiculous. he knows that serum means it'll be a long while before the ache really starts to set into steve's limbs, and he wants him pressed.
of course, he doesn't completely leave him there bare for interaction and stimulus either. at the first commercial break, jack paces back over, leaving his shoes on for steve to hear the tap tap of them approaching. doesn't touch him at first, just pauses next to him, inspecting, looking over the tie, the nail, the pressure on his feet. he doesn't say anything either. after a minute or so, steve will feel jack's lips, feather light, against his side, just brushing along. checking if he's ticklish, honestly, and when steve's muscles jerk even slightly, he pauses on the spot, and bites down against him. it's the first thing he's doing to upset steve's concentration and control, so he pulls back right after and gives him a moment to right himself. this is how the game works, and he wants steve to win, but he wants him to do it over the most difficulty he can handle. ]
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and then jack steps back, and steve takes a deep breath, shifting his wrists. the tie slides silken along his skin but doesn't tear, and the nail remains solidly in place.
he's not expecting jack to touch him, so when jack's nails alight on his collarbones steve jerks, then forces himself back to stillness nervously. each touch heightens the sensitivity of his skin, builds anticipation for where else his nails might go — they dig into his nipples and steve yelps a little ah as his hips twitch forward and a blot of precum drips out the head. he's getting harder, he can feel it, and when jack's hands get closer to his cock steve almsot believes he might take it in hand, jerk him off, force him to control himself through it... but he drops his hands, and steve moans, bobbing just a little on his toes.
jack's not going to be with him for the whole hour. god, that shouldn't hit him as hard as it does, shouldn't shoot straight through his dick and make the muscles of his stomach jump as steve forces himself to remain in place — he'd wondered why jack wasn't undressing, now he knows why. he doesn't have too long to think about it before jack's hand drops with all the weight of his body onto steve's throat and he steals his remaining breath with a kiss. it's enough to make steve feel floaty, foggy — not quite to the point he was with bucky, but almost there — and then jack walks away, and steve tries to follow him before remembering his place (his place) and just stands there, panting, now hard as a rock and leaking precum like a fucking sieve.
it takes a few moments for steve to get his breathing back under control, but after that all he can do is stand and wait. wait for jack to decide to come back to him — or, wait for jack to return his attention to steve, because jack himself is only a few feet away. steve can hear the tv going, though it's difficult to make out any of the words. that's more due to how scrambled his own head is than anything — the volume's plenty loud, but steve can't bring himself to concentrate on anything except for how hard he is, and how the stretch in his calves and arms is uncomfortable but not painful (yet, but it'll be an hour, maybe after an hour), and he can feel the air from the fucking heater on his skin, and jack is just a few feet away. fully dressed, unconcerned about the naked, hard man trussed up against his wall. like steve is just a feature of the room, a decoration. it's the headiest realization steve's ever had, and it pushes him further into the fog the more he thinks about it.
the tv's been switched to commercials for a few seconds by the time steve is aware of the change, but he hardly cares about that when he can hear jack coming closer. his erection's been flagging, ten minutes without any stimulation making him wilt, but just the sound of jack's heels on the floor is enough to make it twitch again. steve can feel jack's presence next to him but can't feel him, and he's about to ask jack to touch him jack does, lips brushing along his sides. it's nice.
or it would be nice, if jack didn't find the ticklish spot on his ribs that makes steve nearly shriek, jerking away from the pressure. the tie doesn't tear and the nail doesn't move, but it's a near thing, and steve tenses, gritting his teeth and curling his toes as jack bites into the same spot. it's the first part of this that's made him shake, and the relief that floods him when jack pulls back and lets him relax is almost goddamn sexual, that's how good it feels. ❱
You're a dick, ❰ he murmurs, but there's no bite to it, he's still floating. ❱
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And you're about to get another hour if you don't start being a little more appreciative.
[ look at all the nice things he's doing for you, steve. giving you a pretty space on the wall, putting his lips on you, letting you borrow his tie and his scarf. and now, pacing over to his side, to run his palm down the back of steve's shoulder blade, a smooth motion down the curve of his back, over his hip, and down to his ass, where it slows, lingers, squeezes just to feel the muscle tense. ]
Maybe I should just leave you here. Tied up and waiting. Dripping and ready. [ the last part is punctuated by a single finger, starting at the root of steve's dick, and tracing up the underside of it, dragging through the slick precome that's run a little river down his cock, all the way up to his crown, briefly lighting over the slit before pulling away. ]
Might be nice. Come home from work, use you however I want. [ jack steps in, body to the side slightly, so steve can't rut against him, and his lips find steve's skin again, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along his chest, down to a nipple he licks over. jack's teeth scrape against the sensitive skin, before he sucks it between his lips, swirls his tongue over the flesh, then pulls off again to purr his words out against steve's body. ] Touch you, taste you. Fuck you into the wall. Relieve some stress.
[ jack waits, glances back up to the nail, examines steve's face, his body, how he's holding up. but he doesn't move away from him this time. if anything, jack presses closer, until steve can feel his against his hip, his dick rock hard through the thin fabric of his slacks. another caress up steve's back, and down again, as he waits him out, let's him center.
finally, a hand comes to circle his poor, neglected cock, soaked with steve's own fluids that slick the slow, lazy stroke jack gives him. one turns into two, and jack's palm twists sweetly around his cockhead, his lips on his skin again, sucking up red welt over his ribs. he keeps a steady rhythm, then speeds up gradually, more and more, until he can feel steve about to come and—
his hand is gone, body is gone, lips are gone. jack step completely back from him, leaving steve deprived entirely of touch and any sensation besides the wall at his back, the cool air on his skin and the ache in his body. ]
Show's back.
[ and off he goes. see you in another ten to fifteen minutes, steve. by the way, welcome to edging.
just to rub it in, and because he knows steve can hear him, after he flops back onto the couch, the zipper of his slacks sounds, the metallic clanking of his belt being undone, and then, after a moment, the slippery-wet sound of jack stroking himself languidly with steve's precome still coating his hand. ]
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