Fic: "Please" - JuC
Nov. 12th, 2002 10:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mickeymJC/Justin. NC17, warning for slight bloodplay
Geez, I think this is my first post of the day, too. (Halo says it's hers.) Written on AIM as our version of an mprov *g* She made me write adult!JuC! (as opposed to baby!JuC *g*). And yeah. We seem to enable each other. *tsks*
(Another Kim/Halo production…)
This, Justin thinks when JC pushes him back against the bed, is the best. It just doesn't get any better.
He loops his arms around JC's neck and pulls, bringing him down to sprawl over him. He likes the solid weight of JC's body on his, likes to feel the mattress giving beneath them. JC's mouth is wethot against his, tongue slick and warm against his lips. Justin grins into the kiss and opens enough to tease JC's tongue with the tip of his.
"Mmm," JC shifts over him then pulls back and sits up, straddling his waist. Justin stares up at him, really noticing for the first time the dark light shining out of blue. JC strokes a finger across Justin's mouth and he opens, nips at the tip. "In a biting mood, J?"
"Maybe," he says, watching closely. "Or maybe--" He reaches up and tugs JC back down to him, pulling him close to whisper in his ear. "Maybe...maybe I want to be bitten."
Justin feels the shift in JC's body, the instant awareness. He's suddenly more alert, more awake, more... there, somehow. A prickly shiverchill races through his body, along his skin, and he feels hot and cold, breathless and filled with thick, heavy air all at once.
JC moves alongside him, places his palm flat on Justin's chest and leans in close, close enough that Justin can feel the hot puffs of his breath on his neck. He closes his eyes, and they snap open again almost instantly as JC's teeth nip at the soft skin just under his jaw. And then again, short, sharp, but just enough to pinch and sting and make his breath catch in his throat; his body tense, just waiting for the next gentle tug of teeth against flesh.
"Oh--" He says softly, arching his head back a little. JC breathes out against his throat and strokes one hand down Justin's chest, fingers teasing lightly over already-erect nipples, ruffling through the light dusting of hair sprinkled over his torso. "Feels--good, C." He brings his hands up, threads them through long curls, holds JC closer to him. He feels the next bite as a gentle prickle before the sensation explodes through him, and feels JC's growl as a vibration deep inside. When JC shrugs his hands off and sits back to gaze down at him, Justin shivers. His eyes are dark, so dark, hunger lurking inside.
"Lay back." His voice is still light, but Justin can hear threads of heat, of need, twining through it. "I want--I wanna tie you up."
The idea makes his stomach twist, makes heat gather and tendril out. He's already half-hard; just the words make his dick twitch. "Um."
"If you want." The smile is probably meant to be reassuring; all it really does is ratchet that...want...growing inside him up another notch. Justin nods and clears his throat.
"Yeah. I, uh. I--," he swallows, tries again. "I want. Yeah." He can't help the flush that colors his face, an outward show of the heat that races through him as he thinks about being spread out on the bed, naked, open, vulnerable. Helpless. Lying there, just for JC, open for anything he wants to do to him. Anything at all.
Oh yeah. He wants.
JC smiles again, and the bed shifts as he stands up, pads softly out of the room without saying a word to Justin. His can feel his pulse throbbing in his neck, can hear the echoing thud of his heartbeat in his head. The room is suddenly too quiet, too small, all the colors too bright. He closes his eyes against the swirl of his senses, and when he opens them again, JC is standing at the foot of the bed, a set of four leather cuffs held loosely in one hand.
"Lie down, and spread out," he says softly, and that need is still there, barely hidden now under his words.
It only takes a minute for Justin to shift, though it seems much longer than that, with JC radiating heat toward him, slowing his movements down. He spreads out, his dick bobbing in the air when he moves. Exposed. I'm exposed...wide open....
The thought is like a knife made of pure energy cutting down into him. Anticipation gathers in his belly, increases when Justin looks up at JC and he shakes his head slightly and gestures for Justin to spread out further. "Wide as you'll go," he says softly, and the words explode inside him like a fireball.
He's gonna be so sore, come morning, but right now, he doesn't care. And when JC kneels beside him and systematically buckles each cuff onto him, then attaches them to the posts of the bed, Justin doesn't care about anything except assuaging the heat growing inside him, that's reflected in JC's eyes.
JC finishes fastening the cuffs, tugging on each one gently to make sure it's secure. Justin feels the tugging along each arm, each leg, and it's like every movement of his body is hardwired straight to his cock, lying thick and full against his belly.
"Fuck," JC breathes gently, shifting his body until he's astride Justin, "you should see yourself, J. All spread out for me. So fucking pretty." He leans down, brushes his lips against Justin's briefly; bites his lower lip, worrying the flesh between his teeth gently. His tongue flicks out to soothe the sting, then trails lower, lower, lower still; across Justin's jaw, down his neck and to his chest. He circles a nipple, sucks gently, lips working the nub of skin until it's full and erect. "So pretty," he murmurs again, and his teeth close around Justin's nipple, just for a second; a splinterbright slice of pain and it's too much and not enough all at once.
Justin shudders, hard, and arches upward toward the sensation, but it's gone in a flash, and he pants, wanting to fuck his hips upward. JC has him restrained pretty tightly, and he can't move, can only hitch his hips up a bit, whimpering as the needs grows inside him, becomes that…something, that dark desire he fears and wants in equal measure.
JC smiles again, and it's sly, and calculating, and Justin shivers, head to toe. It's not fear, exactly...because he trusts JC, knows he'd never hurt him. Unless Justin asks him to. Asks because he wants to be hurt. And even before that thought is complete, he feels his cock twitch... because he knows all he has to do is ask, and JC will do it.
"JC--" He stops and licks his lips, tries to clear his throat. Because--he can think it, but...saying it...that's a lot harder. So he shifts, as much as he can, and swallows, and tries again. "Jayce?"
"Hmmm?" JC looks at him, blue eyes dark with something that Justin knows only too well. A knowledge, a knowing. And Justin knows too...knows that JC will make him ask, because that's part of the game. Part of what makes it so wild, so exciting.
"I--" It's exciting, yeah, but damn, it's hard to do. Which maybe is why they don't do it very often. He has to be in a certain mindset...has to need it, not just randomly, casually want it. "I, um. I want...would you...hurt me?" The last two words, Justin isn't even sure he actually voiced them; he could feel the breath leave his mouth, but couldn't guarantee there was sound. But--JC's eyes. Yeah. He heard him. Justin shivers all the way down inside himself.
"Would I hurt you?" JC repeats the words, slowly, carefully...like he's, rolling them inside his mouth, tasting them on his tongue. Justin flushes, because hearing them again makes him feel awkward, ashamed…dirty. His cock twitches again, and his belly rolls with a dark, twisting heat.
"You know I'd never hurt you, J," JC whispers, and he leans in close to Justin, breath hot against his neck. "Unless..." And he leans back again, trails a finger down Justin's throat; across his chest, circling his nipples. When he speaks again, his voice is husky, and Justin can hear the desire just below the surface, and his whole body feels hot and tight. "Unless you say...please."
And oh, god, he has to squeeze his eyes closed tight at that, because the heat in JC's eyes...in his voice...Justin could come from that alone, he thinks.
He licks his lips again and arches upward when JC runs that single finger down the length of his torso, then down over his aching dick. His blood is burning in his veins. Boiling him from the inside out.
"Say it, Justin." JC's breath is as hot against his neck as the blood pumping through him, and Justin shivers. "Nothing happens 'til you do."
"God. JC...please... hurt me. Please."
"That's it," JC breathes softly, "that's it. All you had to do was ask." He strokes the soft skin of Justin's inner thigh, his tongue following his fingertips, licking a hot trail that Justin feels burning into his veins, into his bones. Justin feels the hot puffs of his breath against his cock, but JC won't touch, won't do anything but tease with feathery brushes of his hair as he licks upwards, circling his tongue around Justin's belly, tracing the outline of the hard muscles under the sweatslick skin.
He flexes against the restraints, curls his fingers into fists and tries to arch upward toward that maddeningly teasing tongue, but he can't. There's limited play and for each increment of an inch he shifts up, JC pulls back, soft ghosts of laughter dancing along Justin's skin along with the puffs of breath.
"Patience is a virtue, J," JC's voice is dark, smooth and rough at the same time, like raw silk, and it spreads over him, moves into him. The bed shifts and Justin turns his head to see JC getting up, sees one hand come up before it's fisted into his short, short curls, before his mouth is taken in a searing kiss. Heat whispers along his skin, inching outward from his mouth. JC drags his mouth across Justin's jaw to his ear, and breathes, "don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."
Don't go anywhere. Fucker. He snarls softly when JC laughs, patting his face gently.
JC's gone for what seems like an eternity, especially when Justin thinks about the fact he's tied to the bed, pretty much helpless. He can move his head a little, shift slightly, but that's about it.
Maybe JC means to leave him like that. Spread out, helpless, open for anyone, anything. I'll be right back, he'd said, but Justin wonders if that's just part of the game. Making him wait. Making him wonder what's next. I can't move, he thinks, and there's a hot swirl of panic in his chest, trickling into his belly in slow, lazy spirals. Spreading fierce heat from head to toe, and his skin tingles with apprehension and anticipation. He hears JC moving in the next room, and his breath catches in his throat as relief washes through him. He's here, he's here, he hasn't left me. Justin's heart is flickering tripletime in his chest, and he bites his lip in concentration, tries to slow it down again.
Maybe he's watching me right now, he thinks suddenly, and can't help the soft gasp he makes. Watching me lying here, just waiting. He hears the thudding of his pulse inside his head, feels the surge of heat in his belly, in his cock.
The longer the thought stays there, the harder it is to focus on anything else. He wonders what he looks like, spread out, arms and legs wide and immobile, cock swollen, erect, arcing out from his belly. He imagines JC is standing just inside the doorway, just out of his line of vision, watching him.
If I wasn't restrained, I could touch myself for him. He considers that, closes his eyes and tries to slow his breathing, because he doesn't want to hyperventilate, not laying here, unseen eyes tracking over every inch of his skin.
He can feel them, too--each place JC looks leaves an imprint on his skin, blood-hot, like his fingers might leave a smudgy bruise if he grasps too tightly. His skin feels too small, stretched thin and tight over blood pumping too quickly, too hotly. Justin squinches his eyes closed tighter, imagines JC's eyes traveling all over him, stroking up and down his cock, sliding behind his balls, and the urge to push his legs open wide is almost overwhelming; he strains at the bonds holding him, pressing against them until a soft chuff of laughter, dark with hunger and need, startles him.
"Wow. Leave you alone for a minute, and you nearly start without me."
"Fuck off," Justin hisses, eyes snapping open in surprise. He feels his face flush red-hot and shameful, and for an instant he hates JC for making him feel so vulnerable. But you asked for this. You begged for this. This is what you want.
JC laughs again. "I can easily leave you like this." He brushes his fingertips against Justin's cock, teasing, the lightest of touches; and Justin arches upwards once more as if drawn by an invisible thread. "You want me to go?"
"No," Justin gasps, "no. Don't go. No. Please."
JC trails his hand along Justin's belly, his fingers raising goosebumps where they touch. "I have something for you," he murmurs, and Justin sees something glint dully in the half-light. He feels the tight curl of anticipation in his belly, and strains to move his head to get a closer look. JC chuckles softly and moves to block his line of vision. "Close your eyes," he whispers, leaning close, his lips barely touching Justin's, breath hot against his skin.
Justin does, all of his other senses heightened with one removed. He can hear JC's soft breathing, smell the musk in the room; he can taste JC on his lips when he licks them. And he can feel-- his skin feels alive. Electric.
And then there's a sudden sharp, silvery sting, and he gasps; his lungs suddenly feel like they're filled with thick, hot liquid and he can't breathe. Not enough air in the room, there's not, he can't--
"Breathe, man." The sting recedes with JC's voice, then slams back into him, a million pinpricks concentrated in one small area of his skin, like a wisp of fire. It makes him think of the tattoos he's gotten, stinging, then moving along. He chokes in another breath of air, ragged and harsh in his throat, burning in his lungs, and makes a garbled sound, half-moan, half-whisper.
"What--?"
"Shh. Keep your eyes closed. Tight." JC's hand strokes over his head, pets him soothingly until he relaxes back against the bed, breathing slow and steady. "That's it." The fingers tease down his cheek, down his neck, and Justin squirms just a little, diverted by the difference in sensation--light, soothing touch on his neck, sharp, sting buzzing against his chest. "You're beautiful like this, y'know."
JC's voice is soft, soothing, lulling him down, and when the next spike of pain slips across his chest Justin jerks, startled. His eyes flicker, he wants to look, but JC told him to keep them closed. He wants to know, doesn't want to know, and oh, god, it's brighthot, more than a tattoo, less than when he broke his arm, but he doesn't know when it'll stop, where it'll start, and oh, fuck--
JC's licking him. Tongue moving wetly over the sting, teeth scraping at it, rubbing at the raw edges of -- whatever it is -- making red and orange flare behind his eyelids. His voice is a whimper, the words barely more than breath leaking from his throat, but it's all he can do to force those out. "Oh...god...C..."
"You taste good," JC whispers, his tongue flicking over Justin's chest, little whitehot splinters of pain flaring where it touches. "So good."
Another sting, on his bicep, and this time Justin is expecting it; he waits for the red flash behind his eyes, the pinprick sparkles that burn fiercely, and then JC's tongue, soothing, lapping. JC's teeth, nipping at the surrounding skin, their bite strangely dull compared to the stinging bite of the metal blade. A razor, he realizes, that's what it is. He's cutting me with a razor.
His own teeth clamp down on his bottom lip as a full body shudder goes through him. "Hey," JC murmurs, fingers warm against his face, "it's ok, J. It's ok." His mouth covers Justin's, and when his tongue slips past his lips, Justin can taste the copperbright tang of his own blood.
Another shudder ripples through him, but he leans up into the kiss, fingers scratching restlessly against his palms. It's a loop, Justin thinks fuzzily, him into JC, JC into him, over and over again. Endlessly connected and reconnecting. He likes the idea.
JC draws back, teeth catching his lower lips, and there's a quick-sharp sting there, not from the razor, just the impact of teeth into delicate skin, before a warm, wet tongue soothes that hurt as well. "More," Justin gasps, when JC moves away from him. "Don't--I need more, please--"
"We're not finished," JC says softly, and Justin almost opens his eyes, wants too look into JC's, to see the darkness he can hear in the words. It's a mirror, sometimes, looking into JC's eyes, seeing things he feels inside himself, but can't let out. I can't trust anyone else with this. I don't understand it, but he does. He understands me, and I understand him. "Deep breath, J," the words are firm, and Justin nods, fingers curling tightly again. He feels finger pads against his nipple as his chest rises, fills, and then an explosion against his eyelids, colors too fast, to bright, too...much, and he gags on the sound that tries to escape, on the air filling his lungs.
He tries again, draws in another breath, bites down hard on his lip once more; hard enough to draw blood this time. Concentrates on breathing in and out, on the copper slickness that coats his mouth, his tongue. He can do this, he has to do this. He trusts JC, knows he'd never do anything that Justin didn't want. Even if sometimes he doesn't know he wants it until JC gives it to him.
He breathes in, then out. In, and out. Ok. He's ok. He can do this. He feels the hot panic that tightens his chest slip away, bit by bit.
"I'm ok," he breathes, and JC murmurs something Justin can't quite hear; he feels the bite of the razor once more, sharp, fast, a thin silvery line of fire across his belly. He moans as JC's tongue follows, soft wet licks spreading the sting into a pulsing red glow that throbs slow and steady in his aching cock.
JC's fingers are warm on his thighs, and he wants to open his eyes, want to see the slickness of the blood on his lips. But he can't, he won't. Not until JC tells him he can.
"I love how you taste, J." This time the murmur isn't so soft, and the words don't fade into nothingness against his skin. There's the flick of JC's tongue, then another sparkle of pain, and all Justin sees now behind his eyelids is pinpricks of color. Silver, white, red, orange, and the blue of JC's eyes behind all of it. "You're salty...sweet...I can taste everything. All of you."
Soft words settle over him, a drop at a time, the sound skating effortlessly through him. JC's fingers are warm, warmer, hot, boiling, scalding him, and he shudders when the razor traces the inside of one thigh, just a hairsbreadth away from his cock, his balls, just a tiny fraction away from where he absolutely does and doesn't want it to go. He doesn't think JC would cut him there -- and relief mingles with the fear and the wanting, making an almost unbearable knot in his belly. He's not even completely sure he wants JC to cut him there.
Then the fingers are gone and heat becomes cold, and fear drips into his blood, freezing him like liquid nitrogen. He's not even sure where that thought came from, dropping into his mind out of nowhere. "Please," he whimpers, beyond pride, nothing but need and want, now.
"Mmhmm," but JC pulls away anyway. Justin hears a soft metallic clink and strains upward, every cell focused on hunger, on fear, adrenaline pumping hotly through him. JC's fingers on his nipples startle him, fingernails scratching at the still-stinging cuts there, and then there's sharp, sharp, HOT pain snapping onto him, clamping down, grabbing a hold of him and shaking hard.
Lightning licks through him, sparks in his brain, behind his eyelids, in his eyes. They're open, he knows, he's staring upward in shock, but he doesn't see anything, just the sparkles whirling around him.
"Breathe, baby," JC's voice hums with the same heat surging through him, and Justin focuses on it, pulls air past the tightness in his throat, in his chest -- oh, God, his chest, thrumming with redwhitehot, all focused on his aching nipple. "One more...you look so pretty like this--"
Even knowing it's coming, he's not ready for it, body arching upward, back bowed against the sudden sharp snap onto tender, sensitive flesh. He hears a cry, feels his throat vibrate, but it's not until JC's hands are petting him, stroking him, fingers brushing over the clamps fixed tight on aching flesh, that he realizes he's not only cried out, but his cheeks are wet, too.
And he's still hard, still aching, tension and need throbbing inside him with every beat of his heart, with every breath he drags in.
"Oh god, C-" He can't even find the words, can't pick them out of the myriad that are swirling in his head right now. Want, need, take, mine, please. Please. Please.
He doesn't even realize he's said it out loud until JC's face comes back into focus in front of him, blue eyes dark with desire, with an understanding. How did he know? Justin thinks, blinking back hot tears. How did he know I wanted this? He shifts a little, and the slight movement sends a flash of heat racing across his chest, hot sparks in each nipple, burning in a whitehot line all the way down to his cock.
"Please," he says again, and knows he won't be able to stand it if JC says no, if he pulls away again. He needs to be touched, his skin craving it now more than ever before. "Please, JC. Oh god--"
And JC's mouth is on his once more; his lips and teeth wrenching sounds from Justin's aching throat, low moans and sobs, and he can taste blood and sweat and the salty-slickness of his own tears.
"So pretty," JC murmurs once again, lips moving against Justin's. "I love you like this, love to see you, hear you, feel you..." He strokes downward, slowly, fingers molding to Justin's throat and squeezing once, gently, hesitating just long enough Justin is sure that'll be on their agenda one day. He shudders and mewls softly, body straining upward, vibrating with his need to feel JC's skin fully against his. "You hurt so beautiful, J. You really do." Warm lips brush over his throat, downward, following the path of the fingers teasing him, and Justin sucks in a rough, hot breath when JC pauses over his chest, over his nipples still aching furiously, blood caught and trapped within pinched skin.
"Yesss--" He hisses the word, hands flexing, back already bowing, and JC doesn't disappoint him. The chain joining the clamps -- silvery cool metal against his hot skin -- is tugged, gently, then harder, until his eyes sting with tears and his hips are edging as far upward as he has room to go. "Oh, god, Jayce, yes--"
JC says something, but Justin doesn't hear it. He can't hear anything but the need screaming through his body, pain melding into pleasure, twisting into want, deafening him to everything else. He feels, though, and tracks the hand sliding down his body even while he's aware of the one still tugging and twisting the chain on his clamps.
Hot fingers grip his cock, and it's almost too much. He moans as he arches upward, going impossibly high, and then there's a snap of pain that makes his throat close up, that tears a thin, high scream from him anyway. He feels liquid heat on his belly, on his thighs, feels the sensations rip through him, shattering him into a thousand and one pieces before everything goes completely silent and black around him, until he's floating weightlessly in warm nothing.
He's vaguely aware of JC's voice in his ear, whispering to him, but his head can't make sense of the words. He doesn't need to know what they are, doesn't care. They sound soft and warm and safe, carried on hot breath into his brain. His heart is hammering in his chest; his arms and legs are warm and heavy, and he feels like he's melted into the bed. His shoulders ache, and he knows that tomorrow they'll be stiff and sore, but for now it's a good ache, a reminder of the pleasure, of the pain. JC moves away briefly, unbuckles the restraints that hold Justin still, and rubs long fingers into his aching limbs, loosening them up, easing the burning. Justin stretches, head to toe, muscles flexing and shifting under sweat-sheened skin.
He feels JC's hands on his chest, and draws in a breath as the clamps are removed from tight, hot skin. JC's tongue soothes the pinched flesh, warm and wet, and Justin moans softly. "Shhh," JC breathes against his skin, moving down, lapping at the warm, sticky mess on Justin's belly. He licks him clean in long, rough strokes, and slowly works his way back up Justin's body, back to his mouth.
Justin can taste himself, can taste the thick salty musk as he sucks JC's tongue, bites at his lower lip. He twines his fingers in JC's hair, pulls him closer, breathing the scent and taste of him in as much as he can.
"Sleep now," JC murmurs, curling around him, warm and safe, and Justin nods and closes his eyes.
~finis~
Geez, I think this is my first post of the day, too. (Halo says it's hers.) Written on AIM as our version of an mprov *g* She made me write adult!JuC! (as opposed to baby!JuC *g*). And yeah. We seem to enable each other. *tsks*
(Another Kim/Halo production…)
This, Justin thinks when JC pushes him back against the bed, is the best. It just doesn't get any better.
He loops his arms around JC's neck and pulls, bringing him down to sprawl over him. He likes the solid weight of JC's body on his, likes to feel the mattress giving beneath them. JC's mouth is wethot against his, tongue slick and warm against his lips. Justin grins into the kiss and opens enough to tease JC's tongue with the tip of his.
"Mmm," JC shifts over him then pulls back and sits up, straddling his waist. Justin stares up at him, really noticing for the first time the dark light shining out of blue. JC strokes a finger across Justin's mouth and he opens, nips at the tip. "In a biting mood, J?"
"Maybe," he says, watching closely. "Or maybe--" He reaches up and tugs JC back down to him, pulling him close to whisper in his ear. "Maybe...maybe I want to be bitten."
Justin feels the shift in JC's body, the instant awareness. He's suddenly more alert, more awake, more... there, somehow. A prickly shiverchill races through his body, along his skin, and he feels hot and cold, breathless and filled with thick, heavy air all at once.
JC moves alongside him, places his palm flat on Justin's chest and leans in close, close enough that Justin can feel the hot puffs of his breath on his neck. He closes his eyes, and they snap open again almost instantly as JC's teeth nip at the soft skin just under his jaw. And then again, short, sharp, but just enough to pinch and sting and make his breath catch in his throat; his body tense, just waiting for the next gentle tug of teeth against flesh.
"Oh--" He says softly, arching his head back a little. JC breathes out against his throat and strokes one hand down Justin's chest, fingers teasing lightly over already-erect nipples, ruffling through the light dusting of hair sprinkled over his torso. "Feels--good, C." He brings his hands up, threads them through long curls, holds JC closer to him. He feels the next bite as a gentle prickle before the sensation explodes through him, and feels JC's growl as a vibration deep inside. When JC shrugs his hands off and sits back to gaze down at him, Justin shivers. His eyes are dark, so dark, hunger lurking inside.
"Lay back." His voice is still light, but Justin can hear threads of heat, of need, twining through it. "I want--I wanna tie you up."
The idea makes his stomach twist, makes heat gather and tendril out. He's already half-hard; just the words make his dick twitch. "Um."
"If you want." The smile is probably meant to be reassuring; all it really does is ratchet that...want...growing inside him up another notch. Justin nods and clears his throat.
"Yeah. I, uh. I--," he swallows, tries again. "I want. Yeah." He can't help the flush that colors his face, an outward show of the heat that races through him as he thinks about being spread out on the bed, naked, open, vulnerable. Helpless. Lying there, just for JC, open for anything he wants to do to him. Anything at all.
Oh yeah. He wants.
JC smiles again, and the bed shifts as he stands up, pads softly out of the room without saying a word to Justin. His can feel his pulse throbbing in his neck, can hear the echoing thud of his heartbeat in his head. The room is suddenly too quiet, too small, all the colors too bright. He closes his eyes against the swirl of his senses, and when he opens them again, JC is standing at the foot of the bed, a set of four leather cuffs held loosely in one hand.
"Lie down, and spread out," he says softly, and that need is still there, barely hidden now under his words.
It only takes a minute for Justin to shift, though it seems much longer than that, with JC radiating heat toward him, slowing his movements down. He spreads out, his dick bobbing in the air when he moves. Exposed. I'm exposed...wide open....
The thought is like a knife made of pure energy cutting down into him. Anticipation gathers in his belly, increases when Justin looks up at JC and he shakes his head slightly and gestures for Justin to spread out further. "Wide as you'll go," he says softly, and the words explode inside him like a fireball.
He's gonna be so sore, come morning, but right now, he doesn't care. And when JC kneels beside him and systematically buckles each cuff onto him, then attaches them to the posts of the bed, Justin doesn't care about anything except assuaging the heat growing inside him, that's reflected in JC's eyes.
JC finishes fastening the cuffs, tugging on each one gently to make sure it's secure. Justin feels the tugging along each arm, each leg, and it's like every movement of his body is hardwired straight to his cock, lying thick and full against his belly.
"Fuck," JC breathes gently, shifting his body until he's astride Justin, "you should see yourself, J. All spread out for me. So fucking pretty." He leans down, brushes his lips against Justin's briefly; bites his lower lip, worrying the flesh between his teeth gently. His tongue flicks out to soothe the sting, then trails lower, lower, lower still; across Justin's jaw, down his neck and to his chest. He circles a nipple, sucks gently, lips working the nub of skin until it's full and erect. "So pretty," he murmurs again, and his teeth close around Justin's nipple, just for a second; a splinterbright slice of pain and it's too much and not enough all at once.
Justin shudders, hard, and arches upward toward the sensation, but it's gone in a flash, and he pants, wanting to fuck his hips upward. JC has him restrained pretty tightly, and he can't move, can only hitch his hips up a bit, whimpering as the needs grows inside him, becomes that…something, that dark desire he fears and wants in equal measure.
JC smiles again, and it's sly, and calculating, and Justin shivers, head to toe. It's not fear, exactly...because he trusts JC, knows he'd never hurt him. Unless Justin asks him to. Asks because he wants to be hurt. And even before that thought is complete, he feels his cock twitch... because he knows all he has to do is ask, and JC will do it.
"JC--" He stops and licks his lips, tries to clear his throat. Because--he can think it, but...saying it...that's a lot harder. So he shifts, as much as he can, and swallows, and tries again. "Jayce?"
"Hmmm?" JC looks at him, blue eyes dark with something that Justin knows only too well. A knowledge, a knowing. And Justin knows too...knows that JC will make him ask, because that's part of the game. Part of what makes it so wild, so exciting.
"I--" It's exciting, yeah, but damn, it's hard to do. Which maybe is why they don't do it very often. He has to be in a certain mindset...has to need it, not just randomly, casually want it. "I, um. I want...would you...hurt me?" The last two words, Justin isn't even sure he actually voiced them; he could feel the breath leave his mouth, but couldn't guarantee there was sound. But--JC's eyes. Yeah. He heard him. Justin shivers all the way down inside himself.
"Would I hurt you?" JC repeats the words, slowly, carefully...like he's, rolling them inside his mouth, tasting them on his tongue. Justin flushes, because hearing them again makes him feel awkward, ashamed…dirty. His cock twitches again, and his belly rolls with a dark, twisting heat.
"You know I'd never hurt you, J," JC whispers, and he leans in close to Justin, breath hot against his neck. "Unless..." And he leans back again, trails a finger down Justin's throat; across his chest, circling his nipples. When he speaks again, his voice is husky, and Justin can hear the desire just below the surface, and his whole body feels hot and tight. "Unless you say...please."
And oh, god, he has to squeeze his eyes closed tight at that, because the heat in JC's eyes...in his voice...Justin could come from that alone, he thinks.
He licks his lips again and arches upward when JC runs that single finger down the length of his torso, then down over his aching dick. His blood is burning in his veins. Boiling him from the inside out.
"Say it, Justin." JC's breath is as hot against his neck as the blood pumping through him, and Justin shivers. "Nothing happens 'til you do."
"God. JC...please... hurt me. Please."
"That's it," JC breathes softly, "that's it. All you had to do was ask." He strokes the soft skin of Justin's inner thigh, his tongue following his fingertips, licking a hot trail that Justin feels burning into his veins, into his bones. Justin feels the hot puffs of his breath against his cock, but JC won't touch, won't do anything but tease with feathery brushes of his hair as he licks upwards, circling his tongue around Justin's belly, tracing the outline of the hard muscles under the sweatslick skin.
He flexes against the restraints, curls his fingers into fists and tries to arch upward toward that maddeningly teasing tongue, but he can't. There's limited play and for each increment of an inch he shifts up, JC pulls back, soft ghosts of laughter dancing along Justin's skin along with the puffs of breath.
"Patience is a virtue, J," JC's voice is dark, smooth and rough at the same time, like raw silk, and it spreads over him, moves into him. The bed shifts and Justin turns his head to see JC getting up, sees one hand come up before it's fisted into his short, short curls, before his mouth is taken in a searing kiss. Heat whispers along his skin, inching outward from his mouth. JC drags his mouth across Justin's jaw to his ear, and breathes, "don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."
Don't go anywhere. Fucker. He snarls softly when JC laughs, patting his face gently.
JC's gone for what seems like an eternity, especially when Justin thinks about the fact he's tied to the bed, pretty much helpless. He can move his head a little, shift slightly, but that's about it.
Maybe JC means to leave him like that. Spread out, helpless, open for anyone, anything. I'll be right back, he'd said, but Justin wonders if that's just part of the game. Making him wait. Making him wonder what's next. I can't move, he thinks, and there's a hot swirl of panic in his chest, trickling into his belly in slow, lazy spirals. Spreading fierce heat from head to toe, and his skin tingles with apprehension and anticipation. He hears JC moving in the next room, and his breath catches in his throat as relief washes through him. He's here, he's here, he hasn't left me. Justin's heart is flickering tripletime in his chest, and he bites his lip in concentration, tries to slow it down again.
Maybe he's watching me right now, he thinks suddenly, and can't help the soft gasp he makes. Watching me lying here, just waiting. He hears the thudding of his pulse inside his head, feels the surge of heat in his belly, in his cock.
The longer the thought stays there, the harder it is to focus on anything else. He wonders what he looks like, spread out, arms and legs wide and immobile, cock swollen, erect, arcing out from his belly. He imagines JC is standing just inside the doorway, just out of his line of vision, watching him.
If I wasn't restrained, I could touch myself for him. He considers that, closes his eyes and tries to slow his breathing, because he doesn't want to hyperventilate, not laying here, unseen eyes tracking over every inch of his skin.
He can feel them, too--each place JC looks leaves an imprint on his skin, blood-hot, like his fingers might leave a smudgy bruise if he grasps too tightly. His skin feels too small, stretched thin and tight over blood pumping too quickly, too hotly. Justin squinches his eyes closed tighter, imagines JC's eyes traveling all over him, stroking up and down his cock, sliding behind his balls, and the urge to push his legs open wide is almost overwhelming; he strains at the bonds holding him, pressing against them until a soft chuff of laughter, dark with hunger and need, startles him.
"Wow. Leave you alone for a minute, and you nearly start without me."
"Fuck off," Justin hisses, eyes snapping open in surprise. He feels his face flush red-hot and shameful, and for an instant he hates JC for making him feel so vulnerable. But you asked for this. You begged for this. This is what you want.
JC laughs again. "I can easily leave you like this." He brushes his fingertips against Justin's cock, teasing, the lightest of touches; and Justin arches upwards once more as if drawn by an invisible thread. "You want me to go?"
"No," Justin gasps, "no. Don't go. No. Please."
JC trails his hand along Justin's belly, his fingers raising goosebumps where they touch. "I have something for you," he murmurs, and Justin sees something glint dully in the half-light. He feels the tight curl of anticipation in his belly, and strains to move his head to get a closer look. JC chuckles softly and moves to block his line of vision. "Close your eyes," he whispers, leaning close, his lips barely touching Justin's, breath hot against his skin.
Justin does, all of his other senses heightened with one removed. He can hear JC's soft breathing, smell the musk in the room; he can taste JC on his lips when he licks them. And he can feel-- his skin feels alive. Electric.
And then there's a sudden sharp, silvery sting, and he gasps; his lungs suddenly feel like they're filled with thick, hot liquid and he can't breathe. Not enough air in the room, there's not, he can't--
"Breathe, man." The sting recedes with JC's voice, then slams back into him, a million pinpricks concentrated in one small area of his skin, like a wisp of fire. It makes him think of the tattoos he's gotten, stinging, then moving along. He chokes in another breath of air, ragged and harsh in his throat, burning in his lungs, and makes a garbled sound, half-moan, half-whisper.
"What--?"
"Shh. Keep your eyes closed. Tight." JC's hand strokes over his head, pets him soothingly until he relaxes back against the bed, breathing slow and steady. "That's it." The fingers tease down his cheek, down his neck, and Justin squirms just a little, diverted by the difference in sensation--light, soothing touch on his neck, sharp, sting buzzing against his chest. "You're beautiful like this, y'know."
JC's voice is soft, soothing, lulling him down, and when the next spike of pain slips across his chest Justin jerks, startled. His eyes flicker, he wants to look, but JC told him to keep them closed. He wants to know, doesn't want to know, and oh, god, it's brighthot, more than a tattoo, less than when he broke his arm, but he doesn't know when it'll stop, where it'll start, and oh, fuck--
JC's licking him. Tongue moving wetly over the sting, teeth scraping at it, rubbing at the raw edges of -- whatever it is -- making red and orange flare behind his eyelids. His voice is a whimper, the words barely more than breath leaking from his throat, but it's all he can do to force those out. "Oh...god...C..."
"You taste good," JC whispers, his tongue flicking over Justin's chest, little whitehot splinters of pain flaring where it touches. "So good."
Another sting, on his bicep, and this time Justin is expecting it; he waits for the red flash behind his eyes, the pinprick sparkles that burn fiercely, and then JC's tongue, soothing, lapping. JC's teeth, nipping at the surrounding skin, their bite strangely dull compared to the stinging bite of the metal blade. A razor, he realizes, that's what it is. He's cutting me with a razor.
His own teeth clamp down on his bottom lip as a full body shudder goes through him. "Hey," JC murmurs, fingers warm against his face, "it's ok, J. It's ok." His mouth covers Justin's, and when his tongue slips past his lips, Justin can taste the copperbright tang of his own blood.
Another shudder ripples through him, but he leans up into the kiss, fingers scratching restlessly against his palms. It's a loop, Justin thinks fuzzily, him into JC, JC into him, over and over again. Endlessly connected and reconnecting. He likes the idea.
JC draws back, teeth catching his lower lips, and there's a quick-sharp sting there, not from the razor, just the impact of teeth into delicate skin, before a warm, wet tongue soothes that hurt as well. "More," Justin gasps, when JC moves away from him. "Don't--I need more, please--"
"We're not finished," JC says softly, and Justin almost opens his eyes, wants too look into JC's, to see the darkness he can hear in the words. It's a mirror, sometimes, looking into JC's eyes, seeing things he feels inside himself, but can't let out. I can't trust anyone else with this. I don't understand it, but he does. He understands me, and I understand him. "Deep breath, J," the words are firm, and Justin nods, fingers curling tightly again. He feels finger pads against his nipple as his chest rises, fills, and then an explosion against his eyelids, colors too fast, to bright, too...much, and he gags on the sound that tries to escape, on the air filling his lungs.
He tries again, draws in another breath, bites down hard on his lip once more; hard enough to draw blood this time. Concentrates on breathing in and out, on the copper slickness that coats his mouth, his tongue. He can do this, he has to do this. He trusts JC, knows he'd never do anything that Justin didn't want. Even if sometimes he doesn't know he wants it until JC gives it to him.
He breathes in, then out. In, and out. Ok. He's ok. He can do this. He feels the hot panic that tightens his chest slip away, bit by bit.
"I'm ok," he breathes, and JC murmurs something Justin can't quite hear; he feels the bite of the razor once more, sharp, fast, a thin silvery line of fire across his belly. He moans as JC's tongue follows, soft wet licks spreading the sting into a pulsing red glow that throbs slow and steady in his aching cock.
JC's fingers are warm on his thighs, and he wants to open his eyes, want to see the slickness of the blood on his lips. But he can't, he won't. Not until JC tells him he can.
"I love how you taste, J." This time the murmur isn't so soft, and the words don't fade into nothingness against his skin. There's the flick of JC's tongue, then another sparkle of pain, and all Justin sees now behind his eyelids is pinpricks of color. Silver, white, red, orange, and the blue of JC's eyes behind all of it. "You're salty...sweet...I can taste everything. All of you."
Soft words settle over him, a drop at a time, the sound skating effortlessly through him. JC's fingers are warm, warmer, hot, boiling, scalding him, and he shudders when the razor traces the inside of one thigh, just a hairsbreadth away from his cock, his balls, just a tiny fraction away from where he absolutely does and doesn't want it to go. He doesn't think JC would cut him there -- and relief mingles with the fear and the wanting, making an almost unbearable knot in his belly. He's not even completely sure he wants JC to cut him there.
Then the fingers are gone and heat becomes cold, and fear drips into his blood, freezing him like liquid nitrogen. He's not even sure where that thought came from, dropping into his mind out of nowhere. "Please," he whimpers, beyond pride, nothing but need and want, now.
"Mmhmm," but JC pulls away anyway. Justin hears a soft metallic clink and strains upward, every cell focused on hunger, on fear, adrenaline pumping hotly through him. JC's fingers on his nipples startle him, fingernails scratching at the still-stinging cuts there, and then there's sharp, sharp, HOT pain snapping onto him, clamping down, grabbing a hold of him and shaking hard.
Lightning licks through him, sparks in his brain, behind his eyelids, in his eyes. They're open, he knows, he's staring upward in shock, but he doesn't see anything, just the sparkles whirling around him.
"Breathe, baby," JC's voice hums with the same heat surging through him, and Justin focuses on it, pulls air past the tightness in his throat, in his chest -- oh, God, his chest, thrumming with redwhitehot, all focused on his aching nipple. "One more...you look so pretty like this--"
Even knowing it's coming, he's not ready for it, body arching upward, back bowed against the sudden sharp snap onto tender, sensitive flesh. He hears a cry, feels his throat vibrate, but it's not until JC's hands are petting him, stroking him, fingers brushing over the clamps fixed tight on aching flesh, that he realizes he's not only cried out, but his cheeks are wet, too.
And he's still hard, still aching, tension and need throbbing inside him with every beat of his heart, with every breath he drags in.
"Oh god, C-" He can't even find the words, can't pick them out of the myriad that are swirling in his head right now. Want, need, take, mine, please. Please. Please.
He doesn't even realize he's said it out loud until JC's face comes back into focus in front of him, blue eyes dark with desire, with an understanding. How did he know? Justin thinks, blinking back hot tears. How did he know I wanted this? He shifts a little, and the slight movement sends a flash of heat racing across his chest, hot sparks in each nipple, burning in a whitehot line all the way down to his cock.
"Please," he says again, and knows he won't be able to stand it if JC says no, if he pulls away again. He needs to be touched, his skin craving it now more than ever before. "Please, JC. Oh god--"
And JC's mouth is on his once more; his lips and teeth wrenching sounds from Justin's aching throat, low moans and sobs, and he can taste blood and sweat and the salty-slickness of his own tears.
"So pretty," JC murmurs once again, lips moving against Justin's. "I love you like this, love to see you, hear you, feel you..." He strokes downward, slowly, fingers molding to Justin's throat and squeezing once, gently, hesitating just long enough Justin is sure that'll be on their agenda one day. He shudders and mewls softly, body straining upward, vibrating with his need to feel JC's skin fully against his. "You hurt so beautiful, J. You really do." Warm lips brush over his throat, downward, following the path of the fingers teasing him, and Justin sucks in a rough, hot breath when JC pauses over his chest, over his nipples still aching furiously, blood caught and trapped within pinched skin.
"Yesss--" He hisses the word, hands flexing, back already bowing, and JC doesn't disappoint him. The chain joining the clamps -- silvery cool metal against his hot skin -- is tugged, gently, then harder, until his eyes sting with tears and his hips are edging as far upward as he has room to go. "Oh, god, Jayce, yes--"
JC says something, but Justin doesn't hear it. He can't hear anything but the need screaming through his body, pain melding into pleasure, twisting into want, deafening him to everything else. He feels, though, and tracks the hand sliding down his body even while he's aware of the one still tugging and twisting the chain on his clamps.
Hot fingers grip his cock, and it's almost too much. He moans as he arches upward, going impossibly high, and then there's a snap of pain that makes his throat close up, that tears a thin, high scream from him anyway. He feels liquid heat on his belly, on his thighs, feels the sensations rip through him, shattering him into a thousand and one pieces before everything goes completely silent and black around him, until he's floating weightlessly in warm nothing.
He's vaguely aware of JC's voice in his ear, whispering to him, but his head can't make sense of the words. He doesn't need to know what they are, doesn't care. They sound soft and warm and safe, carried on hot breath into his brain. His heart is hammering in his chest; his arms and legs are warm and heavy, and he feels like he's melted into the bed. His shoulders ache, and he knows that tomorrow they'll be stiff and sore, but for now it's a good ache, a reminder of the pleasure, of the pain. JC moves away briefly, unbuckles the restraints that hold Justin still, and rubs long fingers into his aching limbs, loosening them up, easing the burning. Justin stretches, head to toe, muscles flexing and shifting under sweat-sheened skin.
He feels JC's hands on his chest, and draws in a breath as the clamps are removed from tight, hot skin. JC's tongue soothes the pinched flesh, warm and wet, and Justin moans softly. "Shhh," JC breathes against his skin, moving down, lapping at the warm, sticky mess on Justin's belly. He licks him clean in long, rough strokes, and slowly works his way back up Justin's body, back to his mouth.
Justin can taste himself, can taste the thick salty musk as he sucks JC's tongue, bites at his lower lip. He twines his fingers in JC's hair, pulls him closer, breathing the scent and taste of him in as much as he can.
"Sleep now," JC murmurs, curling around him, warm and safe, and Justin nods and closes his eyes.
~finis~
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no subject
Date: 2002-11-14 10:00 am (UTC)*pause*
But I don't!
and really, it's not like I said I liked just any old random run-of-the-mill nipple!kiny story...I liked a good quality hotly written nipple/kinky story.
So that makes it better right?
*grins*
no subject
Date: 2002-11-14 03:51 pm (UTC)I'm glad mine fell into the "good, hot" categori(es) :D
And I would ask how could any story with nipple play in it NOT be hot, but I know the answer to that without asking *g*