I'm so sorry this took literal years to get to, but I finally finished it! And posted it! And I hope you enjoy how silly and fun it is!
Mouse tried to think of the evening as being undercover. In a way, that was exactly what it was.
He was undercover as Gregory Gerwitz IV, dressed in a nice suit that did actually still fit, even if he didn't know why he'd kept it in the back of his closet for so long in the first place. It was from when he was Gregory, when the act he was putting on was his entire life. It was from before he was living in an apartment he couldn't afford, before he'd turned to stronger substances than oxy, before he had a steady job and a solid life under his feet. It was from before he'd had his entire life turned upside down by being honest about himself to his parents.
The gala was something he'd attended almost two dozen times, when he was younger. It was for charity, an end of year endeavor to minimize what had to be paid in taxes. It wasn't noble, or good. It was selfishness, hidden behind a veil of good deeds as if that got rid of how self-serving it was. He was too familiar with the event and the people who participated in it to fall for the propaganda anymore.
“And I'm sick of being sick for this whole fucking place to witness. And I’m living a sick life that most people call privileged. And they’re kinda right but I’m still sicker than I can cope with.”
◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ❨ ◯
~~ Writing Fanfiction... ~~
☆-Name: Anne
☾-Age: 20
☆-Sexuality: Bisexual
☾-Pronouns: They/them
☆-Boundaries: I’m heavily pro-Palestine, do not follow this account if you support Israel in any fashion. And you will be blocked without hesitation if you are a minor!
Hey, hey, hey. Have we considered……… Moustead + cockwarming?
take a break
Mouse could feel his teeth, and his eyelashes, and he could hear the fluorescent lights up above him. He wanted to cry by the end of the day of work, and he didn’t want anyone to look at him ever. On the ride home, he put on his headphones, with a calming sound of green noise playing, and ignored all the other passengers on the train with him. He couldn’t look at anyone, not without wanting to vomit if someone perceived him. He listened to his gentle noise and practiced his breathing, and he didn’t think about anyone or anything as much as he could.
The problem came when he got home and he had to do his laundry, and pay some bills, and make dinner, and – and – and -
It was a lot. Adulthood was a never-ending list of things that had to be done, ongoing and building even when one thing was finished, there were always things that needed to be tended to. He didn’t want to be an adult anymore, but being a child hadn’t been much better, not for him. He hadn’t had any agency, any say in his life, in who he hung out with, in what he studied, in what he wanted from the future. He didn’t even dress himself. His mother had controlled him in all facets of his life until he hadn’t even been sure who he was separate from her.
He still wasn’t sure who he was most days.
That day was one of them, and he just wanted his boyfriend.
Mouse: come over i need you
Jay: I'm at work for another hour can you wait or is this a now now thing
Mouse: now now
Jay: on my way
He puttered around his apartment, waiting for Jay to show up, picking up his living room coffee table and side tables, just out of nervous energy running manic inside of his mind. He just needed something to do until Jay was there.
He got so in his mind about where to put the books he’d taken out from the library that he couldn’t put anywhere else but they looked cluttered on his table and he couldn’t put them on his bookshelf if he wanted to ever return them, he didn’t even hear Jay enter until Jay’s hand touched him gently on the shoulder.
“Hey,” Jay said softly as Mouse jumped, ready to fight the intruder. “Just me, baby.”
“Oh, hey. Thanks for coming over.”
“Of course. What’s going on?”
“I feel bad,” he muttered.
“What kind of bad?”
“Brain buzzy,” he answered. “Brain - brain bad.”
“Okay, like, a nose dive into some mild queso dip brain bad or, like, a visit to the shadier side of Chicago for a different kind of treat brain bad?”
“Neither,” he answered honestly. “I can feel my arm hair kind of brain bad.”
“Okay, how can I help, then?”
Mouse hadn’t really thought that far ahead, but his mouth was moving before his brain could catch up.
“Can I warm your cock for a while?”
It wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before, but it had been a bit since Mouse had asked. It was always for him more than Jay, because there was something soothing about having his mouth filled without expectation, just keeping Jay’s cock warm inside of him.
“Yeah, baby, of course,” Jay said with a small smile. “Couch or bed?”
“Couch? We could watch a movie.”
“I love the sound of that. Do you have a preference?”
Jay took Mouse by the hand and guided him over to the couch, and had him get a blanket and set up the TV while Jay kicked off his boots and undid his jeans. He stripped off his jeans and left them, with his socks and boots, by the side table. There was still a mug from Mouse’s tea that morning, and Mouse reached for it to take it into the kitchen.
“No,” Jay said firmly enough that it dropped Mouse’s hand. “We’ll deal with that later. Sit down.”
It didn’t leave any room to argue without making Mouse feel boxed in, and Mouse sat down at the command.
“That’s better,” Jay said softly, and he sank onto the couch beside Mouse, settling back against the cushion. “Find something to watch?”
“Yeah, how do you feel about Iron Chef America?” Mouse asked.
“Whatever you need, baby,” Jay said, and he tugged the waistband of his boxers down so his cock was freed. He was soft, but Mouse didn’t need him aroused for this to help, since Jay was certainly more of a shower than a grower. Besides, even if he were hard when he slipped in, the lack of friction or stimulation would flag his erection anyway. “C’mere and keep my cock warm.”
Mouse let himself fall into Jay and cuddle into Jay’s lap, head back against his belly while he lounged. Jay took his cock in hand and rubbed the tip against his lips until Mouse let his mouth fall open, and Jay slipped inside. He let out a soft hum above Mouse, and ran his fingers softly through Mouse’s hair, gentle strokes with his fingernails whispered against his scalp. It was one of the few times that Mouse felt comfortable being touched without it being sexual, and Jay took advantage of that every time. He stroked patient hands over Mouse’s face and neck, rubbed his shoulders and arm, wherever he could touch him, and for once, it soothed him.
“Let it all go,” Jay murmured while he turned on the first season of Iron Chef America that was streaming.
Mouse let his body relax, focusing only on the feel of Jay’s cock between his lips, against his tongue, the silky-smooth skin with that Jay taste. He let the buzzing thoughts fade away as Alton Brown explained how Iron Chef had taken root in America and how they had their own Kitchen Stadium now. He couldn’t be stressed here, this is where he felt safest. All he could smell, and taste, and feel was Jay Halstead, his belly pillowing Mouse’s head and the waistband of his boxers tickling Mouse’s chin a little where he rested, cheek pressed between his hips.
“Mm, good boy,” Jay breathed.
Slipping would imply that he didn’t do it intentionally, but Mouse eased into a blissful state, some would call it a subspace, but he wasn’t submissive to Jay. They only did this when Mouse wanted it. It wasn’t a punishment, it wasn’t a reward, it was simply Mouse needing the intimacy that came along with the act. So, it wasn’t a subspace, but it was something that he could sink into, a place where he felt at ease, where he felt loved and cared for, where he didn’t have to worry about anything or anyone, just got to lay with his head in his boyfriend’s lap, cock cradled in his mouth, and didn’t have to think about the drugs he craved constantly or his ever-present aches or his shattered mirror confidence. He got to be nothing for once.
It was perfect.
It was all so perfect.
The brushing of fingernails against his scalp lulled him even further down, and he was so content to stay there. Two and a half episodes passed before Jay spoke up.
“Do you want to come up yet?”
Mouse blinked and glanced up at him, Jay still pleasantly soft in his mouth.
“It’s okay if the answer’s no, sweetheart. I’m in no rush.”
Mouse closed his eyes and rested his head back down, and Jay sighed a happy, fond sound, hand still making a slow, purposeful trek through his hair.
“That’s it, Mouse. Take a break. I’ll be here when you want to surface.”
