Plomo y Sangre.

La bala nunca se da por vencida, si no mata hoy, por lo menos deja una herida. || part of enterprise-rp ||

[santiago-cabrera-deactivated201]

[mentr-jesusarchive]

You fucked it up. You let him get too close. I told you so. Is he even that good in bed?

Shut. The fuck. Up. He is not close to me. I hate him. Don't ever say that again.

[mentr-jesusarchive]

That new concoction that your cartel cooked up has an effect they didn't predict - but that doesn't matter anymore since Jude and Mary are painted red across your floor. Your hands are shaking (but it must be the drugs, right?)

.

[entr-jesusarchive]

Corrupt || Chekov & Jesús

[entr-chekov-deactivated20140130]

Chekov laughed at Jesús flash of distraught, the way he examined the board the figure out what could be done. "You shouldn't be so surprised, you need to make sure you're considering every move your opponent could make," the ensign said, watching as the pilot made his sacrifice, and nodded.

"And cut your losses," Chekov leaned forward and moved his knight again, in range of a white pawn which could take it. The navigator sat back and smiled as the lieutenant became even more competitive.

[mentr-jesusarchive]

"Eh, that is my problem exactly, sometimes I forget," that the opponent could be smarter than him, although the occasions were rare, and really, this was why Jesús was not fond of chess. But he could manage with Pavel. 

He watched the pawn, but then allowed his eyes to flicker to the tower lingering not far from one of Chekov's pieces. Then back to the pawn, then to the tower. 

The tower. Which he'd moved mostly to show the ensign he wasn't going to do as he pleased. Silly, yeah. But unexpected even for him, and then--"check." A grin. "Save yourself, Pavel."

[entr-jesusarchive]

Corrupt || Chekov & Jesús

[entr-chekov-deactivated20140130]

"Oh, I didn’t realise—" Chekov flushed in embarrassment from bringing it up, shaking his head as he leaned forward again. "Must be something in the water," he said, trying to lighten the conversation.

He smiled at the man’s move, sliding his tongue across his lips as he tried to suppress the grin. He moved his bishop across the planes, and then adjusting himself to lean on the table once more. “Check,” He announce, giving a playfully challenging grin at Jesús. The move was simply one of intimidation, as there was a simple path out of it for the lieutenant.

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"It's fine, I hadn't actually told anyone so how could you have possibly known?" he shrugged again, lips quirking up slightly, but not too much look sad. A sigh. Then--

"Wait what." He blinked, and scoffed, examining the board very carefully, up close, leaning slightly out of his chair. Anger flared in his chest, which he quickly stomped down. Getting angry over a game? Not worth it. Besides, he was having fun. "No no no no, this isn't over. You," he pointed at him, narrowing his eyes but nevertheless a teasing grin on his lips. "Just wait." 

Fine. He would sacrifice one of the pieces, just to get his king safe. His mind drifted to Jude again, and he had to shake his head. "I will win this."

[entr-jesusarchive]

Corrupt || Chekov & Jesús

[entr-chekov-deactivated20140130]

“Da, even on the bridge, he’s distracted, barely chats,” Chekov moved a pawn out, dangerously close to the white ones deployed. He rested his head on his knuckles, calculating the next possible moves idly, before his eyes trailed back up to the pilot, “Maybe you two could switch shifts again,” He jested with a laugh while leaning back in his chair. He was growing tired of the worry about what was happening while navigating.

He tilted his head slightly at the casual, dismissive mention of Jude. “Oh,” was all Chekov could muster from confusion. He had expected a hint of a smile or a sheepish grin to pass across the lieutenant’s expression, but there was nothing of the sort. “Cool?”

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"Maybe," he grinned, ah there he made his next move and tapped at his knee excitedly; yeah he could get the hang of the game, and he was growing more confident. Bless Chekov and his enthusiasm. (Something he thought he'd never ever think.)

Then, he shrugged, looking up. If he had said anything wrong, he could have his cover blown, and the Commander would not like that one tiny bit. So he had to look for something to say, and he had to do it fast before the Russian kid figured out there was something wrong.

He looked away, biting his lip. "We discussed. Over, ah," what what "stuff --I mean I really don't want to talk about it it kinda hurts you know? Sorry. Your move."

[entr-chekov-deactivated20140130]

The ensign smiled at his sense of rivalry, although Jesús’s comment stirred his own, and he considered not going so easy to protect his pride. Although, Chekov was confident he could, at any point in the game, turn the tables and take out the pilot. For now, he’d bide his time and see what he was up against. “Please, Jesús, it’s Pavel,” He insisted.

He leaned forward, quirking an eyebrow as he moved a knight, not finding anything particularly malicious in the question. “I’m—not sure. He’s been a bit distant lately.” The navigator leaned back in his chair, shrugging with a ting of annoyance. Since he brought it up, “And how’s Dr. Isley?”

[mentr-jesusarchive]

"Distant?" The exact opposite of what he had last heard, Peter had told him Sulu now didn't even take his eyes off of him, in case Jesús was around which was completely hilarious. Unless the bitch Uhura was around. Could you blame him? She had really nice legs and she knew it. 

He stuck his tongue out, holding it between his teeth as he eyed the knight. Fine, another pawn of his own, why not. Then he looked up, brow knitted together.

"Jude?" Dr. Isley was the title that didn't fit the poor bastard. It was a surprise he even knew how to handle a goddamn scalpel. He wasn't used to hearing people address him like that, much less when asking him if he knew shit about Jude. Right. He searched for the correct words. "We're cool."

[entr-chekov-deactivated20140130]

"I’d say you are both on the same level," The navigator shrugged, "Chess is more about tactic, anyway. Playing your opponent." He accepted Jesús’s explanation, figuring to drop the subject.

The doors to the recreational room slide open, a few officers passing by the two as they entered. Chekov looked around the room, which was only scarcely occupied. “Must be shift change,” He commented on the emptiness, making way to a table set up with the three dimensional chess set and casually plopping down on the chair. “So you think you can manage to play me?” The ensign hummed with a grin.

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"You know what? I think I can," he chirped, after mulling on his words and smiling. Then, he sat down in front of him, biting on his lip when the sudden realization hit him --he was actually doing this. The whole being friendly with the Russian bastard. It was surreal, it was throwing him off. But he meant what he said. "I'll accept this challenge, joven Chekov."

So he gestured at the board, paused, then chose to go with the white pieces. One of the pawns, on his fingers then back to the board again. "So where's Sulu?"

[entr-chekov-deactivated20140130]

The seemingly friendly shouldered gesture forced a hint of a smile, "You might stand a chance. I mean, Hikaru manage to beat me once," Chekov offered. Although it wasn't exactly a fair game either, the navigator had been winning but by the end of it, he practically thrown in the towel on purpose.

He curiously tilted his head as they headed toward the rec room, "Are they a cautious race?" Perhaps they didn't like Spock's attitude, Chekov considered. The Vulcan could come as abrasive to those not familiar with the stoic race. Although diplomacy had never been a weak point for the commander.

[mentr-jesusarchive]

"Siiii, but Sulu's smarter," and that had been some of the hardest fucking things he'd ever managed to say. Admitting that that son of a bitch was much clever than he appeared and that yeah, okay, maybe Jesús admired his talent. But not as much as much as he hated him. He briefly wondered if he was around, he'd love to meet this place's version of him. 

"Isn't everyone cautious?" he shrugged. "I guess so. I also guess they didn't quite like Vera's sassiness." And he grinned again. "Anyway." 

[entr-chekov-deactivated20140130]

Perhaps mysterious to those without understanding of the system, but Chekov was far too versed on the mechanics that went into the transporter to simply write it off as a mystery. Despite that, he shrugged it off. Something to be considered later. A beard was hopefully the worst (maybe best) part of the interference experienced.

The ensign smiled, regardless, as Jesùs accepted the offer. "I... Can go easy on you," he jested, giving a slight motion of his head and started back on his course. "How was Talou?" He casually brought up as he walked, "Did they seem interested in opening trade?"

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"Oh, thanks dude, because that is totally fair game," he snorted, turning and letting his eyes quickly drifting down to his hips. No signs of hidden weapons. Huh. 

(He would have recognized that ass wherever he saw it, that was definitely Chekov. Still didn't explain whay had happened, why everyone was so nice, or where the fuck he was.)

Then Jesús caught up with him, nudging his shoulder with his own and a small smile on his lips. "Well, they're kinda reluctant, they think we're going to turn all violent all of a sudden. I can't blame them, sabes, let them believe what they want."

[mentr-jude]

“Me?” For a minute, something swelled up in him, bitter and cold, but as soon as he sat back up it faded away. He dropped his hand from where he was pointing at himself, instead choosing to bunch in the blankets again, under his knees. 

His mouth was still open, searching for something to say, but the only response he could muster was wrought with something sounding a lot more stunned, even hurt than he’d wanted. “I don’t know. Since now.” 

But he didn’t know why. It would have been easy if it was just about sleeping with him. He wouldn’t have to really care, then. There was something else, that he couldn’t and didn’t care to process. 

[mentr-jesusarchive]

Jude wasn't kidding. In all honesty, that he was being sincere was both a relief, and an inconvenient matter. So he trusted him, he relied on him, and that was good. At least it hadn't all been a waste of his time, Jesús couldn't wait to rub it in on Peter's face.

But what the fuck? 

Wordlessly, he cleaned himself, returned for his clothes, and quickly got dressed. Mulling on what he had said all the while. Caring. One fuck and he was already 'caring' for him? It would have been sad if he didn't find it utterly hilarious. 

So as he zipped his pants up, he chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't want your pity. It's enough with the one you have for yourself. But thank you. This was all very nice, now if you'll excuse me, I need to get more of that right now."

[mentr-jude]

"Jesus," he mumbled, turning over in bed and pulling the sheets over his bare legs. "Be careful with that stuff, all right? It’s good, but don’t go crazy." 

Strange advice, from an addict to a convert. It didn’t matter. He slid down until he was staring up at the ceiling, covering his eyes with his arm. “I’m not going anywhere, believe me.” Jude didn’t want to even think about walking after something so vigorous.

"What do I care," he repeated, furrowing his brow. "C’mon. Let me worry a little bit."

[mentr-jesusarchive]

The words echoed in his mind. They dug up something, he couldn't quite tell what but it was unwanted, and they reminded him of...He looked up, brow furrowed, eyes narrowed. 

Months before, Jude had looked up at him, eyes glazy and this stupid expression a clear giveaway that he had just used, was still high, and Jesús had asked if he had used and if he was okay and--

"What the fuck," he muttered to himself, turning the faucet off, then louder for Jude to hear, "since when do you give a shit about what happens to me? Cabrón hipócrita."

[mentr-jude]

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A sigh. "I'm crashing. I need more," it was a lie, but it was the best he could think of. "Just fucking stay there."

[mentr-jude]

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And he enjoyed it, for a split moment. 

But then --the softness of the gesture itself was foreign. The Stardust still lingering in his veins, it was still fucking him up, the heat and his pulse staggering. And both things were suddenly abhorrent. Unbearable. Jesús' dark eyes flickered over his face, brow furrowed.

There was nothing to be said.

He nuzzled his cheek (no no don't do that) before he pulled back from him with a small hiss, and walked away, to the bathroom. 

[mentr-jude]

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Even when he was done, he still remained close to Jude, his breath hot against his cheek. At least, while he regained his breath, and when his pulse stopped being a potent drumming against his ears. 

[mentr-jude]

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"That's right," Jesús panted loudly, pumping his hand fiercely, with equally savage thrusts of his hips, "you're gonna come? You're gonna come, aren't you? Do it for me, you piece of shit."

Tension built up in his stomach, Jesus, he began seeing white at the edge of his vision.

[mentr-jude]

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[mentr-jesusarchive]

He had him just like he had wanted to; melted beneath him, vulnerable and exposed. Yes, overwhelming, breathtaking, beautiful, whatever, Jesús lost himself in the frenzy.

Finally, as he let his tongue trail a slow path from his neck to his jaw, he released his hair and grasped his cock. Painfully hard against the palm of his hand, he could only imagine how much of a torture it had been for him.

It made him laugh, a deep and soft sound against his mouth.