what are you staring at khaki?
Victor inclined his head when Sebastian offered him the glass, accepting it and glancing up at the other man when he spoke. He noticed the faint, very brief curling of Sebastian’s lips- not his taste, then. A selection of Matt’s. Dark merlot wine…interesting. Some people said that wine taste reflected on the chooser…it was a bit of a stretch at times, but for someone who orchestrated themselves as carefully as Mr. Parker…
it could say he was classy, sophisticated, and constantly aware of communicating that. Went well with black shades, often held by someone in a suit, an expensive suit. A few people called it the power-broker wine. Power was certainly an element of it, but confident power, power that wasn’t afraid to hold a fruity wine, despite how it may affect their appearance.
Of course, someone like Sebastian would appreciate that all little…but someone as seemingly simple as Matt might not either. A bit of a spark lit in Victor’s greenish eyes as he glanced automatically back into the kitchen- he’d have to keep this in mind- before he smiled back. “I do doubt it would be possible to be in a room with Mr. Parker and not have his enthusiasm exuded to you.”
Victor inclined his head at the explanation, giving an understanding nod. “It’s no trouble…certainly something I can sympathize it. Besides, your absence allows me to disillusion myself about my speed and strength for a short amount of time, at the very least,” he chuckled a bit, good-naturedly. He never minded having to pause for breath or stop along the way. It was nice, having a running partner as challenging as Sebastian.
“Work is as ever. It seems to go smoothly until the moment I turn my back,” he sighed lightly. “And with you? Must be terrifically busy, of course.”
Jim took the pot of rice off the stove, resisting the urge to peek into it as he set the timer. Everything was good to go, table set, just needed to let the rice sit for ten minutes before they could sit down to eat. He stood back with his hands on his hips as he went through his mental process, then laughed to himself. Always a weird sensation when you weren’t precisely certain if it was you or a character thinking something through. Bizarre. He glanced over, catching sight of his reflection in a glass-front cabinet. He smiled to himself, then walked out of the kitchen and into the room Sebastian and Victor were using.
Their conversation was already in progress, so he didn’t say anything (he didn’t think Matt would interrupt Seb), just smiled as he walked in. His quick dark eyes took in the glasses…the…two…glasses.
Sebastian hadn’t gotten a glass for him? First of all, rude. Second of all…what would Victor Trevor make of Seb Moran not even remembering to get a wine glass for his devoted boyfriend. Ugh!!!
He sat himself on the arm of Sebastian’s chair, leaning just a bit on his second. That wasn’t an act, really; he leaned comfortably against Sebastian in the backs of cars, on plane rides, on the sofa on some quiet evenings while the tall sniper read and Jim worked out intricate plans on his laptop. So even though Jim was playing at displaying Matt’s affection, even he didn’t recognize how natural and comfortable his pose was.
Jim was attentive to their conversation, reaching over and lightly taking the wine glass from Sebastian’s hand to take a sip himself. It was a good wine; he was actually sharing one of his favourites with Mr. Trevor. Not a merlot, actually. A Malbec, brought back as a little souvenir from Argentina. A 2009 Catena Zapata. A sign of respect for a good opponent. And a damn good wine, at that.
Sebastian nodded sympathetically as Victor talked about business, a rather unfortunate lump in the back of his seat cushion pressing into his most recent wound. A small bruise, but it was a very sharp impact from the side of the car he had crashed earlier in the week. He shifted again and took another sip of his wine, smiling slightly and ducking his head as Victor spoke about his running fantasies.
“Meetings all over Europe. I don’t know when I last got a proper week without suffering from some sort of jet lag. Real estate can’t seem to stay in one place, can it?” Sebastian asked playfully, his voice soft, undercutting the humor of his remark. He wasn’t usually so vulnerable; opening up his personal home to his neighbor was one thing, inviting the man for a dinner that Jim Moriarty was preparing was an entirely different level of meta-reality that Sebastian was sure he didn’t understand. It was completely mad, and if he had any say in it at all Jim Moriarty would be in his posh flat uptown, Sebastian would be at the shooting range and Victor would be high on the drugs that Sebastian had ordered for him.
Looking over as he heard Jim enter Sebastian’s eyes flicked over him and he attached a smile to his face that he thought looked sincere but probably came off as simpering instead. He let his glass go and relaxed as Jim pressed against him, sliding an arm up over the edge of the seat cushion, not wrapping his hand around Jim, just keeping a thumb lightly on his spine. His expression affecting a bit more genuine turn he looked over at Victor and smiled slightly.
“D’you like the wine? Matt picked it himself.”
Jim felt hot, too hot, and for a moment wished for the ice again. But just the thought of ice on his chest, or that half moon curve of the chilled glass against his lower back seemed like too much, a ghost shock to his nervous system and he moaned loudly as he leaned his head back. Sebastian’s teeth were strong, his jaw muscles working as he left marks that the criminal would see for more than a week. The Irishman cried out when his cock was pressed between their bodies, the sensations odd and discordant, his own bare stomach on one side and the cotton friction of Sebastian’s shirt on the other.
He licked his lips, fighting to regain control. Setting his jaw gave him the semblance of stoicism as Sebastian thrust up hard into him again, but it felt like all his muscles were taut, not just his jaw, and it was intense and he moaned again. Keeping his mouth closed on it muffled it slightly, but not completely. Jim swallowed hard, head tipping to the side under Sebastian’s mouth, the words seeming to make him bend slightly.
“Slow?” His voice was breathier than he’d anticipated. “Is that…what you want then?” He set his hands on Sebastian’s chest, pushing himself back. The change of angle forced a half-scream from his throat and it was almost a physical pain to force his thighs to push upwards, off the other man’s prick entirely. His shoulders shuddered and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath, to ready his wicked smile when he looked up again to meet the sniper’s intense green eyes. The look, that look. It was so dangerous, he didn’t know what he was thinking. He wanted to know.He swallowed again as he climbed off Sebastian’s lap, trying to calm himself, showing the amazing self-control he could have. The cold he could pull down to contain the heat.
“Tell me. What you want to do to me. Before I finish you off. If you had the choice, what would you do right now?” He licked his lips as he untied Sebastian’s wrist, then wrapped the tie around his arm and the armrest with more force, pulling the silk too tight as he knotted it to allow it to pull and settle slightly when Sebastian moved. Then he crouched, moaning when he pressed against his own swollen cock, and pulled loose the belt in his discarded trousers. He quickly, rather efficiently, secured Sebastian’s other wrist to the arm rest.
“Not quick enough,” he purred as he slid back into Sebastian’s lap. “If you have any last words, now’s the time.” But before the tall man could say anything, Jim had grabbed the ridiculous owl-print scarf he’d left over the back of the chair a few days ago and gagged Sebastian with it. He kept his dark eyes on the other man’s green ones as he tied it off behind his head. Kneeling over him, barely pressing back against the sniper’s cock, he could feel every muscle in the other man straining forward. “Charming.” He licked his lips, not breaking eye contact.
“And now we’ll see how slow I can be.” He tightened his jaw but didn’t close his eyes as he pushed himself down onto Sebastian again. He held his hands over the other man’s wrists to give himself balance so that every centimeter was a slow, agonizing descent. “What would you do to me now?” he asked hoarsely.
The change in Jim’s voice was visceral, Sebastian could feel it against his cock and in his mouth as the words came out. He laughed, good, Jim had taken it, had slowly slid himself off and Sebastian groaned, relaxed, leaned back against the chair, head back, growling with each breath.
“Ah, Jim, you’re going to play this?” He didn’t resist as the other man tied his left wrist down to the chair, instead he relaxed and sighed a bit, trying to ignore the pounding in his cock and the tightness of his clothing. He closed his eyes, tugging at the tie lightly, but when Jim moved again he looked down at the other man. “What are you-“
With a frown Sebastian made a move to stop Jim from tying down his other wrist, but when he was too slow - and Jim even said so, that brat - he growled, shifted his weight so he could lean forwards but before he could even get a word out Jim had taken advantage of his open mouth and, of all things, gagged him. Gagged. Him. Sebastian’s arms flexed against the chair, his biceps straighing as he tried and failed to reach up to Jim, smack the man around, fuck him senseless, teach that small little man it would take more than a few pieces of clothing to stop Sebastian Moran from getting what he wanted.
Sebastian raised his lips in a snarl, showing his sharp eyeteeth and hackles as Jim teased him again, shifted forwards and Sebastian ignored the sensation of the other man against his cock, too wrapped up in this idea of being completely tied down and left with only his prick hanging out of his pants. Fuck you Jim Moriarty - his arms strained against his bindings, but the man knew how to keep him down, and then, oh fuck, Jim slowly shifted back, lined himself up against Sebastian and the older man’s head leaned forwards to rest on Jim’s collarbone, where a bruise was already blooming.
He could feel Jim, his muscles tight against Sebastian’s prick, and then the give way as he slowly lowered himself. Sebastian groaned, shifted forwards, put his throat on Jims skin so he could feel the vibrations of all the dark, unknown words Sebastian wanted to say to the other man, but all he could do was moan in the back of his throat, teeth clenched down on the gag as Jim slid down his throbbing cock.
WOH EVERN LETS ME NERT S KYEBOAF
i just love you so much.
just you wait.
helenareiske replied to your post: He has shaved all his fur off for you. Kitten loves you…
this thing is a rat.