Easton teeth ached, his jaw pressed so tight it hurt. А feeling that molded itself into anger if only because it was so familiar. With Jasper anger came kicking about like second nature and Easton felt himself becoming every damn thing Jasper accused him of - a bully, someone who wanted to push those beneath him just to watch them squirm and learn their place. Jasper never did learn his place, never kept his mouth shit either and Easton hated him for it. Things would have been so much easier if Sterling just made him self scarce. If he just disappeared.
But he never did. Sterling was everywhere. A damn thorn in his side. Even when he was a scrawny teenager, his lack of designation marking him strange and weird. Different - an unforgivable sin for the likes of high school, Jasper still had people around him. His sister. His mother. Friends. Easton got sick to his stomach seeing him flash easy smiles like he had no damn care in the world.
“You followed me here, Sterling.” Easton snapped, his words turning venomous when he spoke Jasper’s name, as though it was just as much of an insult as any of the rest he’d used to describe the other man. Broken. Wrong. No one. Null.
Of course his phone wasn’t here. Of course. Because Easton had to suffer in Jasper’s presence a little while longer. He took a step back, mouth pressed in a tight lipped frown, flat and unwelcoming, eyes sharp on alarm at the change of topic. “I wasn’t flirting with you.” The lie was easy enough to tell. Easton was so familiar with lying, he believed it himself. Even now. Even when he knew damn well that he’d spotted Jasper in the crowd at the town meeting, that what he felt for him was nothing short of attraction for those sullen features and the sarcastic little grin. He’d wanted him. But that didn’t mean shit. It really didn’t.
Easton stood, alarmed, when Jasper’s little remark turned into a crusade, a full on attack. He tugged on his tie and for a second Easton could do nothing but just blink, so dumbfounded - he couldn’t keep up. Sterling reached for his shirt next buttons coming undone far too quickly, baring the skin beneath - flushed, from anger, Easton supposed, from the alcohol he could smell on Jasper’s breath too when he stepped into Easton’s space, the sugar sweet whiskey he’d tossed onto Easton.
But there was more too and he hated that he noticed it all. The cut on Sterling’s lip where Easton’s fist had landed. The bruise on his cheek, standing out stark on the submissive’s pale skin. He looked rough. Despite the challenge blazing in his eye, the hot breath panted between his lips. Sterling looked like he’d reached the end of the rope. Had nothing more left to give. And Easton?
Wanted it so damn bad he shuddered with the strain of holding himself back and hated himself for it, but for once the hate, the anger - they weren’t enough. Didn’t match the weight of that hungry thing in his chest. Reaching forward to dig his fingers into Jasper’s nape wasn’t really a conscious choice. Nor was shoving him back into the sink’s edge, onto it. He just tugged and pulled, not sure he’ll stop at Sterling’s clothes. He felt hungry to dig to the bone.With the shirt shoved aside, Easton’s free hand greedily explored the hard planes of his chest, down his stomach.
The submissive’s skin was warm to the touch, jumped and flinched with every inch he claimed. He wanted to find his own bruises there. The ones he’d left on him the previous day, press his fingers there and watch Jasper sigh and hiss in pain. Because he would. Easton knew that much. Knew how damn responsive Sterling was.
His fingers in Jasper’s hair tightened, grip nearing painful, he tipped Sterling’s head back before Easton claimed his mouth. Kissing him in the same way he fought him. Like he might want to hurt him instead, as though it would’ve made little difference if it was his fists instead. Sterling’s mouth was sweet, he let Easton take and take - pliant, yielding to it and Easton had left him no other option but to - he let his teeth close around the cut on Jasper’s lip until it bled again, until he could taste it between them.
Easton’s hands dropped to Sterling’s hips, pulling him closer, firm against him, against the hard line of his length.
I wasn’t flirting with you.
Jasper scoffed. Did Easton think he was an idiot? He’d felt how Easton had looked at him, gaze gone heated and heavy -- interested. He’d even shuffled awkwardly, delivery rusty. If it had been anyone other than Easton, Jasper would’ve reciprocated. Easton had been charming, made Jasper’s heart flip in his chest, threw him off kilter. But, the moment Easton had realized it was him, the Null, all the softness and friendliness had melted away like it’d never been there to begin with.
It was unreasonable to be hurt by that. Jasper knew that. He didn’t need Easton Beckett’s damn approval, didn’t need to make him see or acknowledge him for the submissive he was. But, Jasper wasn’t thinking rationally right now. He was a little more than slightly tipsy, the anger and hurt in his chest getting the best of him.
Which was why he had goaded Easton, had pressed him.
He’d succeeded, but Jasper hadn’t taken account the consequences. He saw the way Easton’s blue eyes darkened to something black, the way he shuddered -- with rage, with anger. His face contorted when he reached for Jasper, lightening quick, the hand that seized the back of his neck making him flinch. It was warm, commanding, tight as it held him in place, forced him backwards, the back of his knees giving as Easton shoved him into the sink’s counter.
“What--” he managed to exhale, overwhelmed, shocked as Easton tugged and pulled at his shirt, exposing the rest of his chest, large hand roaming the expanse of it, rough and claiming, the action making Jasper’s cock twitch, filling with blood so quick it damn near made him dizzy, the hard ache of it tugging a soft gasp that soon melted into a whimpered moan.
Easton didn’t stop there. No, why would he? He snared his fingers in Jasper’s hair, wrapped them tight and yanked. Jasper went boneless, mouth parting, eyes widening, breath gone quick and anticipatory. His hands twitched, wishing to seek, to tug at Easton’s suit, to be needy -- but no, no he hadn’t been given permission. Jasper gripped at the counter instead, knuckles white, unable to help the way he flushed, wanting -- wanting.
He didn’t wait long because in the next breath, Easton’s mouth came crashing down on his, divesting him of breath, every bit a predator, ready to rip into Jasper, to find the soft parts of him and press until it hurt. Jasper was helpless to the onslaught, to the brutal force of it, to the way his mouth opened on instinct, moans lost in the sweltering heat of Easton’s mouth. Then Easton bit down on his cut, sucked at it, the metallic taste mingled with the sudden pain making him whimper, shuddering, cock so hard caused pain.
It was so easy to slip, to fall headfirst into that space, the place where he was softer, more vulnerable. Needy.
Such was apparent as Easton’s hand left his hair, finding a home on his hips, pressing them flush against Jasper's, the weighty, hard line of Easton’s cock obvious. Jasper couldn’t help it, he reached for Easton then, hand grabbing desperately at his shirt, silently seeking some sort of grounding. He didn’t know how to handle it, how vindicated he felt that Easton was also hard, how needy he felt being touched, overwhelmed by how much he wanted to submit -- to Easton.
He shuddered, gone lax, like puddy in Easton’s hands. “Please,” he moaned into the bloody taste of Easton’s cruel kiss, too fuzzy to know what, exactly, he was pleading for. “Sir, please.”
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