thinking about recovery-era Vienna being out in public and hearing someone use the word ābitchā or āslutā and she looks over like her name has been called
paris does find delta cute. its like level 7 of a bunch of other way more pressing and difficult things he feels towards delta but cuteness is definitely there.
a little teaser of something iāve been working on with @ohagiwrites. to get the full thing people are gonna have to be reallyyy nice to me ok. all my smut is extremely self indulgent Iām nervous about it >.<
characters come from @chrysalis-thestateofchange!! check out our stuff the weird sex will come eventually.
āāā
Jeremiah leans against the pale, wooden side table that rests next to the bed, its covers neatly pressed and folded. The hotel isnāt anything fancy, to say the least, but room service made good work of what they had. Itās not like Jeremiah himself had never met up at hotels in a much worse condition than this one.
āSquirming around like that wonāt do you any good if your muscles are sore.ā He pokes, teasing, offering James a fondly exasperated look as the man rolls around on the mattress, mussing up his hair and crinkling the sheets. āYou gotta stretch.ā
James sighs, dramatic. āIām not sore, just tense. My muscles feel so tight.ā
Jeremiah rolls his eyes. āYeah, real tight, Iām sure,ā he jabs with a raised eyebrow and James sits up at the foot of the bed, shifting to kneel, his feet tucked under him. A smirk plays at his lips, eyes closed. Content. āNot everything is some euphemism, you creep.ā
He rolls his head from side to side, stretching out his neck. The air of the hotel is vaguely damp, and heās stripped down to only his jeans and an undershirt. It clings to his skin in all the right ways. Sweat glistens along his shoulder blades. The aftermath of a battle are faded swatches of purple, yellow, and green washed against his arms, present even now. Jeremiah resists the urge to press along them, watch him writhe. He thinks heād enjoy it too much ā more than he did giving them to him.
āIām tense,ā James sighs, his head bowed as his eyes find Jeremiahās face, examining him as if he is a test subject, or perhaps a target. The corner of his mouth curls up as if they are one and the same. āWhy donāt you do something about it?ā
Jeremiah scoffs at the suggestion, his muscles already itching to move, to pounce. He rolls onto his heels, fixing at the rolled-up sleeves of his button down. āAnd you call me the creep,ā he chides, huffing under his breath as he saunters closer to the bed, not quite bridging the gap. A good two feet of distance sits between James and himself.
James huffs, leaning back against his palms. The bed creaks with his movements. āYouāre no fun. All straight to the point.ā He leans forwards, reaching a hand out and hooking his fingers along Jeremiahās belt, tugging him forward. Jeremiah stumbles, knees pressed into the mattress, legs knocking against Jamesās. He braces himself against his chest.
āYou should learn to ask for what you want properly,ā he says, his voice a low rumble. His hand digs into Jamesās collarbone, rubs against the perspiration lying there, fingers dancing up his neck, tickling against his jaw. His breath is hot against his own, swallowed with every inhale. Heās sweaty, a little musty from working out. The scent is intoxicating.
āLike you ever use your words.ā James bites back with a toothy grin, swallowing back a soft laugh as he cranes his neck up, face inches from Jeremiahās.
Kokoa hums from behind them. Heās propped up against a pillow, lazy, leaning against his arm as he flips through some miscellaneous magazine. He stares with half-lidded eyes, appearing to be bored, his legs crossed casually. Despite his nonchalance, his gaze has not shifted from where it points, focused intently on the two at the end of the bed. His mouth twitches oh so slightly.
Jeremiahās hand closes around Jamesās throat and he tugs him up the rest of the way, their noses pressed together. He smiles as he feels Kokoaās eyes on him and glances over, meeting his gaze for a quick second. Kokoaās fingers twitch but he does not back down, nor does he move to interfere. A sort of curiosity is present on his face as he watches, Jeremiahās grip tightening around Jamesās throat, James gasping in response. He doesnāt try and stop it.
Jeremiah smirks and swipes his tongue out, pressing it to Jamesās lips but not quite kissing him yet as he crawls onto the bed, guiding James backwards so that heās laying, half-propped up, held by the throat. He huffs in pleasure. āCareful,ā he says lowly, contrasting as he looks over to Kokoa for another split second. āYour boyfriendās watching.ā
blakekathryn
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