[Huckleabbot, hankie code, bdsm dynamics.]
“I think your hanky’s on the wrong side.”
Dennis had been expecting it. He’d been getting odd looks and well-meaning doms coming up to him all night. Never condescending, never rude, just trying to help what they thought was a new sub dabbling in hankie code. Dennis always gave back a polite smile and a “no, it’s on the side I want it to be.”
Not new to the scene, judging by his crow’s feet and comfortability in the space he occupied. Black shirt tucked into camo pants tucked into impeccably shined boots
“No, it’s on the right side. I’ve done my research.”
The man let out a sheepish huff, flagging down a bartender.
“That’s what I get for assuming- lemme buy you a drink?” Dennis took it for what it was- clearly he had already gone in with the plan to chat him up, and this was course correction. The fact that he wasn’t walking away after learning he was a dom… well, Dennis certainly had a type and he fit it like a leather glove.
“No, it’s alright- people underestimate me. I had to get into hanky code so that people would stop asking me to be their sub.” Dennis joked, taking his Jack and Coke with a nod.
"You do give off... a vibe.” the man admitted, settling into the stool next to him.
"You can say 'kicked puppy', it's what my roommate dubbed it.” Dennis grinned into his cup at the snort it pulled from the man before he spoke again.
"Well if you're looking for puppies you're outta luck, but if you don't mind an old military mutt..." he trailed off, looking at Dennis with a touch of weariness. And it was Dennis's turn to raise his eyebrows.
“Shoot, here I am doing the same thing you were.”
“Old mutts?”
“Assuming, but I wouldn’t be opposed to doing those either.”
He loved this- the back and forth, the spark. When you realize you’re catching on with someone like a wildfire. The man grinned and took a sip of his drink. Dennis could see a silver chain disappear under his shirt, which led his eyes down the broad plane of his chest. Jesus Christ he was like a tree trunk. Dennis would love to feel those legs wrap around his sides.
“What’s that there, along your neck?” Dennis asked, using it as an excuse to lean closer.
“You’ve never seen dog tags before?” the man asked a little incredulously, his next breath cut short as Dennis’s finger traced the line of his carotid artery and only stopped when it hit the chain. Dennis could feel his pulse speed up as his nail scraped the man’s skin gently- watching goosebumps flutter to life in his skin.
“You already come with a day collar? Cute.” Dennis murmured, hooking his finger under the chain and tugging lightly. The man swallowed hard, wisely waiting for Dennis’s next words.
“Are you up for adoption?”
He managed to breathe it to Dennis between kisses, cupping Dennis’s cheek and pulling him closer as his fingers tangled in Dennis’s curls. He allowed it, moaning into Jack’s mouth and tasting the remnants of the whiskey he ordered. The stuttered moan that got lost in Dennis’s mouth when he tugged on Jack’s dogtags spiked his blood harder than any alcohol.
They managed their way up the stairs, Dennis could feel Jack at his heels, the mutt panting behind him. He crowded at his back until Dennis turned on his heel.
“Sit.” Dennis commanded, watching Jack process the command with a blink. Slowly, he sunk onto one knee, then the other. The action of putting his hands behind his back made the muscles under his thin cotton t-shirt ripple and flex. Chin up, shoulders back.
“Slobbering at my back- you need to be patient to get your treat.” Dennis muttered, carding his fingers over Jack’s scalp before gripping the silver curls at the nape of his neck. Jack groaned, eyelashes fluttering slightly. Dennis craned his neck back just a bit further before letting go. He stripped himself of his shirt and laid it over the bed, undoing his belt in the same unhurried fashion. Jack’s eyes were on him, and with each piece Jack’s body drew tighter and tighter. Ready for his command.
Dennis sat on the bed and leaned back, enjoying the firmness of the mattress and the soft sheets. Lazily, he looked back at Jack.
God, he did- stuck between Dennis’s powerful thighs as he thrust into Dennis’s well-prepped hole. Dennis kept a firm grasp on the dogtags, sometimes letting them loose to enjoy the faint jingle of metal in time with his thrusts. Jack leaned down to nuzzle at Dennis’s neck, kissing it and trailing bites and hickies. His back stung where Dennis’s nails left raised marks down Jack’s skin, combined with the sweat that made him look shiny and indulgent in the low light.
“Please, please, please, angel, you’re killing me-” Jack croaked, his breathing shuddered with effort to hold back, to keep himself up and thrusting into Dennis like a piston.
“You don’t cum until I do.” Dennis breathed, back arching slightly as Jack’s cock bullied over his prostate. Dennis’s own dick smeared precum on Jack’s abs, each spark of skin on skin sending Dennis spiraling higher. Jack moaned and let his head hang between his shoulders while he thrusted, feeling Dennis’s body tighten and shudder around his cock.
“Shit, good mutt, good- fuck-” Dennis whined, tensing as his cock shot cum onto Jack’s stomach. Relief flooded Jack as he thrust once, twice, then he was burying his face in Dennis’s neck and filling his hole with seed. The two of them shuddered and panted together, enjoying the press of their bodies before Jack’s foot shifted and he hissed in pain.
Dennis was alert immediately, sitting up and frowning at the sight of Jack’s prosthetic.
“Jack, is your leg hurting you?” Dennis asked, cupping Jack’s cheek and making him look at him. Jack heaved a sigh- why did he have to be Jack right now? What happened to mutt?
“Mmhh, go back to cuddling.” Jack grumbled, tugging Dennis close by his waist.
“Nuh-uh, leg first.” Dennis leaned down to press a kiss to Jack’s sweaty skin before making his way down to Jack’s leg, shivering at the feeling of Jack’s cum wetting his thighs. Dennis tapped Jack’s thigh, waiting until Jack looked down at him with something suspiciously close to a pout.
“You’re going to have to walk me through this, Pup.” Dennis said softly. Jack felt his stomach flutter with… something watching Dennis’s nimble fingers take the time to treat him gently. The pin, the prosthetic propped gently against the bed, the liner peeled off with a breath of relief from Jack. A cool wipe on the sweaty, irritated skin. Usually Jack had to do this himself. He didn’t want his doms to feel like they had to handle something like this. It was mesmerizing watching the care.
Finally, after Dennis had wiped himself down, he climbed into bed with Jack.
Jack cozied up with Dennis, pulling him to his chest with a rumbly noise low in his throat while he pressed his face to Dennis’s neck. Dennis chuckled as he petted the curls on Jack’s nape. Jack closed his eyes and heaved a soft sigh.
“Gotta b’careful feeding me scraps, I’ll never leave.” He mumbled, enjoying the soft scritches of his scalp he got in response.
“I think I could take home an old mutt.”
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