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[He might've been surprised by it, but he wasn't disgusted by it. Despite what McGillis may have claimed, treating sex like a transaction was abhorrent. It made him feel cheap, as though he had been thrown back into that filthy brothel—just another whore for hire as opposed to a self-made man. And Jeremiah, for any and all faults, had at least made the effort to accommodate his curiosity, even though it wasn't strictly necessary. It couldn't have possibly been the first time and it absolutely wouldn't have been fair to stare. He's still a human, not a circus freak.
But even so, he can't quite resist the urge to touch. He does try to strike a reasonable balance, though, aiming for respectful admiration. Skimming the tips of his trim nails over the grooves and understanding the purpose for those ports at once: he was part of a machine. Definitely a pilot and likely a little more than that, given the intricate nature of the circuitry and its design.
...he was an experiment.
What a troubling time for such a revelation. Rather than ruin the mood, he simply states:]
Let me look at it later.
[Not quite venomous, actually the opposite—a subtle invitation to a proper bed.]
[He traces the line of pressure as it moves, a sense for where his fingers move to. It doesn't stop feeling ordinary, maybe even a little underwhelming in the best of ways, even though he can't mistake the deliberate nature of it. It's not ordinary, and McGillis can tell.]
All right.
[He knows he won't mind it a second time. Just as it no longer overwhelms him, it doesn't overwhelm somebody else, albeit one already with a familiar eye for these things. It's all he needs for now. Pivoting around, he stays standing close, still watching McGillis's face. He wants to draw himself in again, to see if the next time he's kissed he can kiss back a little harder and still get away with it. Thighs still tensed, eager to slot together. He wonders what the suit would feel like against bare skin if he pressed into it.]
I ought to be facing this way, anyway.
[No, it's not his move. McGillis can lead, he clearly expects it. Jeremiah could relate well enough to the insistence, even if he can't speak for the motivations of the other man for it. It's a hard approach to put down, he's finding, but the alternative seems really... nice.]
[...it's easy enough to tell that any lingering annoyance has left him. At least for the moment.
And he really needs to distract himself from said realization, so he returns to their work. Busies his hands down south, loops the loose belt with the rest of Jeremiah's discarded clothes and tucks his thumbs into the edges of his underwear. Pulls that off too and sinks onto his knees with the practiced grace of a prostitute. Idly he wonders if Jeremiah has ever patronized such places; he wonders if he prefers an intimate affair or more of a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am approach. Paid for the night, gone by the morning—then again, who would even have him?
His fingers are sinfully soft as they touch Jeremiah's exposed cock, as those vivid eyes flicker up to stare.]
If there is a particular way you enjoy it, then tell me now.
[While he was still in the mood, still willing to listen.]
[Jeremiah supposes he has. Standing there, seemingly doing nothing as McGillis works the remainder of his clothes open, leaving him bared all the way down to his legs. One of his hands finally reaches for purchase beside him, gripping around the topmost bar of the railing. More rapt than anything, he watches as McGillis sinks down and takes his hard cock into his grip.
He feels... ineffective. Stagnant. It's strange without the push-pull that he's used to, the play fight of feeling someone out for the first time when tempers clash right out the gate. Jeremiah always savors that struggle, the hard-earned satisfaction of what he can gain from it. McGillis seems to want to yield nothing, not unless he offers it first.
Well, he's offering now, down to the very details. Answers come to mind, but none feel succinct, all too vague. This man could and would do a great number of things if her permitted it. He needs precision, in turn.]
A slower pace, to start.
[He couldn't be looking anywhere but those eyes, set on that handsome face just inches from his erection, framed in hair he's already itching to sink a hand right back into. He wants to say savor it, but well, that's asking a little much of someone so keen to win out on his own terms. The man really does have him minding his tongue.]
[A soft heh escapes while he watches Jeremiah from below.]
Then let us see how long you last.
[Not very, he thinks. Most men were easy enough to please; if he was already this hard then that didn't speak to any sort of significant challenge. Still, he does't seem displeased by what he holds. He has had larger, of course, but this really wasn't the time to throw that mockery out there. The slickness of his smirk should speak for itself, how his eyes twinkle at the thought.
At the very least, he doesn't delay further. With the very tip of his tongue, McGillis samples that cock, dragging along the full length. Tasting it, testing its heft. And all without shame, confident as the moment they first met. His fingers shift ever so slightly, gripping Jeremiah with firmness. Shoving his cheek against it, he regards Jeremiah with a distinct air of amusement.
And maybe a faint one of arousal. He did love to suck cock, even for its own sake—already it shows.]
[Exhaling audibly through his nose, Jeremiah settles his weight a little more solidly against the railing and watches. McGillis's hands, his tongue, are all sure and practiced to a degree that would have surprised him, had it not been prefaced by everything else. His demanding confidence, walking around as if everything is already his. Likely because it could be, if he wanted.
Jeremiah wouldn't be able to distinguish it as the honed skill of a professional, just one belonging to a learned man. And McGillis is one, that's unmistakable, but he wouldn't look for the signs, nor know them when he sees them. He only knows how it feels, subtly different as ever from a woman's touch. Even an experienced one can't always compare to this familiarity, knowing precisely how to wring the sensations right out, the slow drag of a tongue mapping him out and drawing a sigh from him.
Even if he hadn't been suffering under traces of aphrodisiac, it wouldn't have taken long to get him to this point. He could stand to be more sheepish about it, peering down at the taut skin pressed to the paler swell of McGillis's cheek. He isn't. This pushy, stubborn man has had his attention from the start, of course his body would play right into those hands, once he watched McGillis go down to his knees.]
[McGillis wanted the world and he wanted it for the greater good, much like another man Jeremiah might know.
For a time, McGillis seems content to simply tease. And he does it with effortless aplomb; swirling his tongue over the sensitive slit, working the full shaft with his fingers and outlining a thick vein with his thumb. Though it may have been unintentional, McGillis nevertheless encourages Jeremiah and stokes his enthusiasm. No less attractive than before, if less annoying.
Fleetingly McGillis contemplates a much meaner approach. Ignoring his wishes, swallowing him up and sucking away as if his traitorous life depended upon it. But ultimately he decides against it, focusing on those slower and surer licks. Drawing the spongy head into his mouth, McGillis starts to suck at a manageable speed, fondling his balls below—truly a gentleman.
Still shameless, he presses his own need to Jeremiah's foot. Like a dog seeking attention from its master or perhaps a bit of stimulation.]
[He'd asked for slower, so he offers no fuss as the other man sets his pace. McGillis paints an awfully nice picture doing so, pink tongue working him, touch deft but so precise that every one leaves him aching for a little more. Even a tease this nice is satisfying in its own way.
Then he draws the head into his mouth, and Jeremiah groans in the back of his throat, his grip on the bar tensing. Just like when they'd kissed, his mouth is scalding hot, greedy lips wrapped snug around him. The touch below nearly gets his hips shifting again, but he doesn't want to knock McGillis's angle off. Not when he's being treated so nicely.
Of course he reaches right back when the other man presses to his leg, giving a few curious nudges until he finds the right movement, stroking over his crotch. The give to his cock to the relative hardness of Jeremiah's body has him mindful but firm, shifting occasionally to rub on either side.]
[Interesting, McGillis thinks through the haze. Was it really self-restraint, some proper sense of decorum, or something else that held those hips at bay? Unintentionally, it sparks a bit of that competitive nature, as McGillis was a man of considerable pride—even and especially with sex. If Jeremiah wasn't shuddering and sighing, then he wasn't trying hard enough. Even though at this stage they were both past hard, as McGillis' eyes briefly slide shut from the attention. Not for too long, though, then they flicker back up, pupils blown and pitch black.
And he was slipping, slowly but surely. Not with technique, but into that heady space where he couldn't care about anything or anyone. Just his partner, just himself, orbiting around their needs and attending to them as if he couldn't live otherwise. Something like submission, maybe, as his hips bid for further friction and he opens wider for Jeremiah. Draws that swollen cock deeper into his mouth, halfway to the root, tonguing at its underside and groaning at the taste. Looking at him now, it was difficult to argue that was still just a favor. Still a reluctant task.
Although no longer angry, heat has risen to his face. It colors his cheeks as he starts to suck in the rest, filling that sassy mouth with cock.]
[He isn't left waiting for long. McGillis's lips slide further down, wrapping him in heat and punching a groan right out of Jeremiah's mouth. He feels heavenly, cradling him so sweet, like the space he makes to take him down is shaped just for him.
Never let him say McGillis didn't know how to make a guy feel special. It's more than just consideration he sees when he opens his eyes. Jeremiah could drown in his pupils, gazing at the flush risen to the surface. Those lips, cruel and charming, pressed hungrily into his skin, dragging as he sucks down the length of his shaft. No one truly reticent would stay sealed to him so tight.
Jeremiah pushes a little harder in between McGillis's thighs in turn, lifting his foot to cup the bulge from underneath, rubbing right up into him. It's not a hard balance with both hands on the railing, but inevitably, his hips start to shift the more he ruts his leg into the other man. Panting harder through parted lips, he looks down and nudges forward, slow and careful, his weight pressed into McGillis's hand holding him at the root.
Jeremiah feels dizzy just looking at his face, the expanse of his body just as tensed with want.]
[McGillis was starting to strongly suspect that this man could handle a lot worse than some tipsiness, although that was another conversation for another time. Ideally a time that did not involve a foot between his thighs and a cock on his tongue, even if Jeremiah didn't seem to have much of a sense for appropriate timing. As demonstrated by that inappropriate question.
Consent was, of course, critical. He had demonstrated as much during their first meeting and he was demonstrating as much now, after reasonable negotiation. But it should've went without saying and thus without asking—yes, of course you can. Not that he can manage that much, just huffing around that submerged cock and threatening it with the slightest scrape of teeth.
And then, because evidently his partner learned best through demonstration, McGillis gobbles up Jeremiah the rest of the way. His cock slides down his throat, so slick and so soft, bulging against the delicate flesh and trapped by that thick column of muscle. McGillis doesn't even choke, doesn't so much as flinch, just letting Jeremiah see how a professional conducts himself.
Just letting him come to the realization, all on his own: you couldn't pay for cocksucking this good.]
[No sound makes its way out of his open mouth at first, but Jeremiah's wide eye says enough. It's deep, so deep, and he doesn't even budge once he's resting with him stuffed to the hilt. Like it's not even hard for him. It clearly isn't.
But Jeremiah also doesn't know who he's truly dealing with, either.
Groaning loud this time, he finally shifts himself to free up a hand, planting both feet back into the floor, nudging his shin between McGillis's thighs. He ends up seeking the back of his neck, sliding up to the hairline but not pushing, just cradles the dip at the base of McGillis's skull for stability as he tries not to melt into the scalding column of his throat. It's slow at first, for the urgency seeping into his core, dragging his hips back, choking on his inhale at the sight of those last couple inches pulling out. Sure enough, he sinks right back into that impossible heat as easy as the first time.
He's mindful but intent as he moves, startled into attentiveness by unfamiliarity. It doesn't stop him from trying, giving another slow push. This time, his eyes catch the bulge in McGillis's throat shifting with him, and Jeremiah shakes with the force of his gasp.]
[This man was going to beg his way into that bed and the very notion fills McGillis with a perverse glee.
For a moment, though, the situation turns a bit precarious; McGillis may have had the manners of a noble, but he was raised by the streets. He fought for his food and fucked for his money. And as a street rat, he tended to react rather poorly to any stray touch to the back of his neck, to the raised spines of his own brutal surgery. At least he was aware enough to realize that Jeremiah meant nothing by it, so there was no reason for any sort of altercation. But regardless, he does hesitate—likely long enough to communicate that this was definitely a no-no place.
The moment passes and McGillis finds himself distracted by that questing leg, all but humping it now to alleviate tension. McGillis withdraws for a few seconds, panting each time, coating Jeremiah's cock with saliva and gasping for air and returning for another round. As effortlessly as the rest of this encounter, he deepthroats Jeremiah and gives him the full experience of a proper prostitute. No longer abiding a slower pace, but then again, that was the point. He swallows like he was born to it and sucks until he wheezes, until he works himself into a full frenzy.
And when he finds the space to speak, it is only to incite Jeremiah further.]
Fuck my mouth—
[Permission granted. He wants to, needs to, has to feel that cock full force.]
[The pause is brief, enough like a falter to his otherwise impeccable rhythm that Jeremiah heeds, his touch receding as quickly as it came. Mindfully, he settles his hand to the crown instead, breathing still rapid as his fingertips bury themselves in his hair, just enough to steady himself.
He's pushing harder with his leg now, more free to let his hips shift with it, still hanging on with every intent to reciprocate and yet chasing the opportunity to give anything in turn. As if a man like McGillis would ever come in his, well, suit over something like this, as if he could provide even a fraction of what that nasty mouth and slick throat were doing to him. The wait was worth it for this, watching him slip his mouth right off, his cock and McGillis's lips both streaked with spit, then diving back with that same ease as before. Tension has already built itself heavy in his thighs, his hips, the pit of his stomach. When the pace ticks up, he knows it's not slowing back down, and he won't have any choice but to be carried along with the tide.
McGillis speaks, and when he shoves his mouth back down Jeremiah swears he sees as much as feels his cock pulsing in his throat.
So he draws back, tightens his fingers around the railing, around those blonde locks, and complies. Jeremiah's not fast, not careless yet, but he's stopped holding back as he humps into his mouth. It makes the pleasure sink that much brighter into his nerves, forcing every exhale out of his mouth a little louder, a little harsher. Someone could hear the obscene slurp of McGillis's mouth, his own rasping sounds, but it's pleasure too good to stifle. As if the picture they'd paint should someone walk around this or that corner wouldn't be more damning.
He's not thinking about it, driving his hips faster to a luxurious groan, still trapped watching the swell down the column of his neck, knowing he can't last.]
[Choke me, choke me, McGillis commands, without uttering another salacious word. And of course the good general gets what he wants, because he fucks hard for his food, as he always has and always would. While he wasn't likely to get off on Jeremiah's merit, he nevertheless appreciates the effort—appreciates it so much that he starts to touch himself through the suit—and it was obvious enough that he was still painfully hard from the whole affair. Much like Jeremiah, throbbing away in his mouth, ready to burst at any moment. Poor little put upon noble.
So he will make it good for the man. In fact, he will make it downright great, so amazing that he will have this exchange to compare to every other in this damnable world. Even half-shut, his eyes seem to taunt him; even robbed of the ability to speak, he goads Jeremiah towards climax. He continues to show off, shamelessly so, that he could and would continue to suck cock as it pleases him. He won't halt and he won't hesitate and he will shrug off every criticism because he was going to change the world. And he would start by ridding the hangar of that thing.
Or at least moving it someplace he could no longer see it. Small steps, really.
For now, though, McGillis will sit there and suffer. And he will suffer oh so sweetly, because he really wasn't kidding: he loves to suck cock and he loves to please men who think they are above his charms. Because nobody really was and that was part of the problem; just ask the friend he betrayed for the sake of that beautiful world. For now, though, enjoy the show.]
[Every time Jeremiah pushes a little harder, it doesn't make a difference, McGillis just takes and takes and takes. He's already lost himself in it, rutting harsh into the rigid passage of his throat harder than he feels safe to but searing so good across his nerves that he can't stop. He's right, Jeremiah very well could be ruined for anybody else. It won't be a surprise or an injustice, not when he can concede McGillis to be the best he's had.
He'll earn his victory, too. The satisfaction in his face, red from exertion and staring up with toxic eyes, they speak every inch to his wants. His wants to please to be pleased in turn, to get what he wants but have it given to him the way he wants it, too. And Jeremiah will walk away sated but bested, with a sweet memory to haunt him.]
I'm close.
[Jeremiah couldn't care less as he rides the high of the moment, for this brief time, while it's his. He's watching McGillis, carefully gripping his hair with both hands now, fucking in earnest to get the rest of the way there, fucking him like he's buried somewhere else. Moaning breathlessly on every thrust, his chest heaves with the force of his ragged pants, spine curling inward as his muscles begin to go taut.]
[Greedy men are greedy, McGillis relentlessly so; while that ragged warning might have thrown some into a panic, the telltale rumble of a chuckle would suggest McGillis has no such qualms. If anything, he rides the high along with him, buoyed by a building enthusiasm. Bolstered by his own, drawing Jeremiah into that bottomless den of debauchery. And somehow he finds a way to make it worse, right at the very end, because leave it to the good general to get what he wants—even at someone else's expense. Even if it was cruel and downright sadistic.
Deliberately slow, McGillis drags out his tongue and drags out Jeremiah. Pressing that reddened cheek flush to his cock, he makes a sloppy mess of all that precome and makes damn sure that Jeremiah will look at nothing and no one else but that smirking, sneering face. Like staring into the jaws of a snake, poised to deliver the final blow. Curling inward, prepared to strike.
And it was going to hurt so, so good.]
Go on, then.
[He leans into that tight hold, encourages an even tighter one. And dares him, right at the very end.]
All over my face, since you were thinking of it.
[...there's just no cure for that relentless brand of audacity.]
[It wouldn't matter what he had been thinking, all he has to do is say it for it to sound like the best thing Jeremiah's heard, already staring at the slick mess on his face, the desperate curve of his cock pushed against it. McGillis is beautiful, flushed and hungry and spilling the most tempting of ideas from those swollen lips. He would look better painted a complete mess.
And again, the first few movements are on the side of cautious until he gets a feel for it, McGillis's cheek plush and hot against him. Strange at first, but he understands quickly enough, so close that the friction quickly makes up for the loss of his throat. Jeremiah tightens his grip sure enough, fistfuls of his hair to anchor him as he rocks, sliding his length furious and slippery against his face.]
Oh... oh, oh-
[Hissing, he pushes harder and speeds up, taut enough to be perfectly telling, his strokes short and needy and fast. It's just a little cruel, rutting his hips so hard, but it doesn't last for long. A shudder crashes through him when he comes, a clipped shout eking out of his open mouth before he can stifle it, curling inward with the force of his orgasm. His cock pulses, pressed so close that he just gushes all over that pretty face, his forehead and his cheeks and the bridge of his nose catching it all, with nowhere else for it to go.
It wrings everything Jeremiah has out of him, and once the storm passes he straightens and falls back a little, implants clunking against the railing as his body is left wiped for a moment. His grip loosens, finally relinquishing McGillis's hair to cup his head. He doesn't speak, just pants through parted lips, gazing down with every inch of desire he has, drinking the sight in.]
[Yet another haughty nobleman, effectively cut down to size. Not a bad catch for what began as a mere barter.
Despite the sheer salaciousness of it—or perhaps because of it—McGillis revels in every lewd moment. He knows very well that Jeremiah has lost; he knows very well that he was to blame and that Jeremiah will not soon forget every sight and every sound of what took place here. As his composure cracks, as he chants oh, oh, oh, McGillis grins like an absolute fox. Almost mean, almost mocking, except he won't deny the man his rightful reward. He managed to last this long, after all, longer than most. Seeing him through was the least he could do.
It may have been a little cruel but McGillis likes it a lot worse. Parting his lips and awaiting his own reward, McGillis catches a few drops on his tongue while the rest of that furious orgasm will find a home all over that beautiful face. Streaking his cheeks, painting his skin, soiling his hair and dripping down his nose. Somehow it seems to suit him, that defilement, that ruin.
Sticky seed coats his fingers and falls into his waiting mouth, wide enough for Jeremiah to witness. Yet unsatisfied, he unzips the front of his suit and proceeds to jack off into his other hand. Until he comes too and makes an even bigger mess and it was impossible to tell who did what and where. Maybe that was the whole point. Maybe it was a not so subtle form of entrapment.
You can't escape me now, so says the snake. The snake that now rests on its laurels, recovering from its hearty meal.]
[He was right, McGillis looks even better like this. Of course he doesn't miss a second of that mouth, that blessed, cursed mouth licking up what falls into it, hungry but not starved. He just looks as sated as Jeremiah feels. In the aftermath, Jeremiah also feels an utterly sweaty mess, the draftiness of the hangar pleasant on his skin but a reminder of his exertion, paired with his panting breaths. He's in no rush to get dressed anyway, taken apart as he is. His legs are still pretty leaden underneath him, though an arm over the railing helps make it a little more comfortable.
He could look at McGillis for some time, though it doesn't take long for him to catch on to the movement below. Jeremiah groans softly, watching his hand work with equal hunger to let it continue and intervene so he can return some measure of the favor. Fully hard, his cock is better than he'd imagined, he just looks so good that Jeremiah waits too long watching him caught up in his own pleasure.
And even he wouldn't dare complain, not now, not after receiving the best blowjob of his life, not while it's all compiling in his head, just watching McGillis come satisfying in its own right. But there's a knit to his brow, one that doesn't quite pair with the rest of his expression, still warm in the afterglow, knowing his chance was robbed of him.
The satisfied look McGillis maintains through it all lays claim to committing the very crime.
And what can he say in turn, really, that McGillis doesn't already know? Words feel useless to describe what transpired. This doesn't feel like a loss either, even with his pride bested, not just from the warmth settled in his bones. If he wants him to give chase, well, good. It would be harder for him not to.]
[Things are quiet for a time. Certainly compared to moments before, as McGillis stares calmly back at Jeremiah—as if he hadn't just enjoyed a mouth and a face full of cock.
And when he speaks up again, it is with that same smoothness. That same deliberate purr, the same clever roll of his tongue from their first meeting on the beach. As if he wasn't a disgusting mess, as if he had no shame or no pride at all. Or maybe he did have some pride, the pride of utterly pleasing a man and driving him towards inevitable ruin.
And of course he will smile, because McGillis knows nothing else.]
You will move your monstrosity, as agreed.
[Such a beautiful order from beautiful lips. And of course he will go on:]
Then you will carry on with your day and forget this ever happened.
[It should feel more awkward, really, but he's still transfixing. It's in the eyes, he thinks, not just for how vivid or unflinching they are. Harsh to look at, for too long a time. Jeremiah can't place it yet.
The words are about what he expects, but there's no change to his voice after the way Jeremiah had treated him. He's really not sure how, but then again, clearly there's a lot he still has to piece together about a brigadier general this good at swallowing a man whole.]
Of course, as we had agreed.
[Jeremiah straightens, expression evening as he politely tucks himself in his underwear before doing anything else. It's a mess, he's a mess, nothing can be done for now. With his other hand, because he still likes to think himself a gentleman and wouldn't just offer him even further mess even if he clearly doesn't mind it, Jeremiah reaches out to offer McGillis assistance getting to his feet.
He doesn't need it, that much is obvious. But he'll see if he takes it anyway.]
[It really could be anything. That's what Jeremiah's learned about men who spoke like McGillis, is that it's hard to be sure. So for the time being, he takes it at face value, and plows forward as he always does.]
[Wrong answer. But McGillis accepts it anyway and boosts himself up, further demonstrating his prowess by regaining his composure with a few deft flicks of his own hand. Although nothing short of a hot shower will fix the rest of it, so maybe Jeremiah won in that sense. Jeremiah will remember and so will he.]
You should request a meeting with the Augur. I believe they will be willing to barter with you now.
[Maybe that would be a better demonstration of sex and its influence. Dryly he adds:]
Try to secure a space for yourself, as opposed to wandering the wastes like a vagrant.
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But even so, he can't quite resist the urge to touch. He does try to strike a reasonable balance, though, aiming for respectful admiration. Skimming the tips of his trim nails over the grooves and understanding the purpose for those ports at once: he was part of a machine. Definitely a pilot and likely a little more than that, given the intricate nature of the circuitry and its design.
...he was an experiment.
What a troubling time for such a revelation. Rather than ruin the mood, he simply states:]
Let me look at it later.
[Not quite venomous, actually the opposite—a subtle invitation to a proper bed.]
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All right.
[He knows he won't mind it a second time. Just as it no longer overwhelms him, it doesn't overwhelm somebody else, albeit one already with a familiar eye for these things. It's all he needs for now. Pivoting around, he stays standing close, still watching McGillis's face. He wants to draw himself in again, to see if the next time he's kissed he can kiss back a little harder and still get away with it. Thighs still tensed, eager to slot together. He wonders what the suit would feel like against bare skin if he pressed into it.]
I ought to be facing this way, anyway.
[No, it's not his move. McGillis can lead, he clearly expects it. Jeremiah could relate well enough to the insistence, even if he can't speak for the motivations of the other man for it. It's a hard approach to put down, he's finding, but the alternative seems really... nice.]
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So now you wish to be polite?
[...it's easy enough to tell that any lingering annoyance has left him. At least for the moment.
And he really needs to distract himself from said realization, so he returns to their work. Busies his hands down south, loops the loose belt with the rest of Jeremiah's discarded clothes and tucks his thumbs into the edges of his underwear. Pulls that off too and sinks onto his knees with the practiced grace of a prostitute. Idly he wonders if Jeremiah has ever patronized such places; he wonders if he prefers an intimate affair or more of a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am approach. Paid for the night, gone by the morning—then again, who would even have him?
His fingers are sinfully soft as they touch Jeremiah's exposed cock, as those vivid eyes flicker up to stare.]
If there is a particular way you enjoy it, then tell me now.
[While he was still in the mood, still willing to listen.]
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He feels... ineffective. Stagnant. It's strange without the push-pull that he's used to, the play fight of feeling someone out for the first time when tempers clash right out the gate. Jeremiah always savors that struggle, the hard-earned satisfaction of what he can gain from it. McGillis seems to want to yield nothing, not unless he offers it first.
Well, he's offering now, down to the very details. Answers come to mind, but none feel succinct, all too vague. This man could and would do a great number of things if her permitted it. He needs precision, in turn.]
A slower pace, to start.
[He couldn't be looking anywhere but those eyes, set on that handsome face just inches from his erection, framed in hair he's already itching to sink a hand right back into. He wants to say savor it, but well, that's asking a little much of someone so keen to win out on his own terms. The man really does have him minding his tongue.]
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Then let us see how long you last.
[Not very, he thinks. Most men were easy enough to please; if he was already this hard then that didn't speak to any sort of significant challenge. Still, he does't seem displeased by what he holds. He has had larger, of course, but this really wasn't the time to throw that mockery out there. The slickness of his smirk should speak for itself, how his eyes twinkle at the thought.
At the very least, he doesn't delay further. With the very tip of his tongue, McGillis samples that cock, dragging along the full length. Tasting it, testing its heft. And all without shame, confident as the moment they first met. His fingers shift ever so slightly, gripping Jeremiah with firmness. Shoving his cheek against it, he regards Jeremiah with a distinct air of amusement.
And maybe a faint one of arousal. He did love to suck cock, even for its own sake—already it shows.]
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Jeremiah wouldn't be able to distinguish it as the honed skill of a professional, just one belonging to a learned man. And McGillis is one, that's unmistakable, but he wouldn't look for the signs, nor know them when he sees them. He only knows how it feels, subtly different as ever from a woman's touch. Even an experienced one can't always compare to this familiarity, knowing precisely how to wring the sensations right out, the slow drag of a tongue mapping him out and drawing a sigh from him.
Even if he hadn't been suffering under traces of aphrodisiac, it wouldn't have taken long to get him to this point. He could stand to be more sheepish about it, peering down at the taut skin pressed to the paler swell of McGillis's cheek. He isn't. This pushy, stubborn man has had his attention from the start, of course his body would play right into those hands, once he watched McGillis go down to his knees.]
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For a time, McGillis seems content to simply tease. And he does it with effortless aplomb; swirling his tongue over the sensitive slit, working the full shaft with his fingers and outlining a thick vein with his thumb. Though it may have been unintentional, McGillis nevertheless encourages Jeremiah and stokes his enthusiasm. No less attractive than before, if less annoying.
Fleetingly McGillis contemplates a much meaner approach. Ignoring his wishes, swallowing him up and sucking away as if his traitorous life depended upon it. But ultimately he decides against it, focusing on those slower and surer licks. Drawing the spongy head into his mouth, McGillis starts to suck at a manageable speed, fondling his balls below—truly a gentleman.
Still shameless, he presses his own need to Jeremiah's foot. Like a dog seeking attention from its master or perhaps a bit of stimulation.]
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Then he draws the head into his mouth, and Jeremiah groans in the back of his throat, his grip on the bar tensing. Just like when they'd kissed, his mouth is scalding hot, greedy lips wrapped snug around him. The touch below nearly gets his hips shifting again, but he doesn't want to knock McGillis's angle off. Not when he's being treated so nicely.
Of course he reaches right back when the other man presses to his leg, giving a few curious nudges until he finds the right movement, stroking over his crotch. The give to his cock to the relative hardness of Jeremiah's body has him mindful but firm, shifting occasionally to rub on either side.]
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And he was slipping, slowly but surely. Not with technique, but into that heady space where he couldn't care about anything or anyone. Just his partner, just himself, orbiting around their needs and attending to them as if he couldn't live otherwise. Something like submission, maybe, as his hips bid for further friction and he opens wider for Jeremiah. Draws that swollen cock deeper into his mouth, halfway to the root, tonguing at its underside and groaning at the taste. Looking at him now, it was difficult to argue that was still just a favor. Still a reluctant task.
Although no longer angry, heat has risen to his face. It colors his cheeks as he starts to suck in the rest, filling that sassy mouth with cock.]
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Never let him say McGillis didn't know how to make a guy feel special. It's more than just consideration he sees when he opens his eyes. Jeremiah could drown in his pupils, gazing at the flush risen to the surface. Those lips, cruel and charming, pressed hungrily into his skin, dragging as he sucks down the length of his shaft. No one truly reticent would stay sealed to him so tight.
Jeremiah pushes a little harder in between McGillis's thighs in turn, lifting his foot to cup the bulge from underneath, rubbing right up into him. It's not a hard balance with both hands on the railing, but inevitably, his hips start to shift the more he ruts his leg into the other man. Panting harder through parted lips, he looks down and nudges forward, slow and careful, his weight pressed into McGillis's hand holding him at the root.
Jeremiah feels dizzy just looking at his face, the expanse of his body just as tensed with want.]
May I?
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Consent was, of course, critical. He had demonstrated as much during their first meeting and he was demonstrating as much now, after reasonable negotiation. But it should've went without saying and thus without asking—yes, of course you can. Not that he can manage that much, just huffing around that submerged cock and threatening it with the slightest scrape of teeth.
And then, because evidently his partner learned best through demonstration, McGillis gobbles up Jeremiah the rest of the way. His cock slides down his throat, so slick and so soft, bulging against the delicate flesh and trapped by that thick column of muscle. McGillis doesn't even choke, doesn't so much as flinch, just letting Jeremiah see how a professional conducts himself.
Just letting him come to the realization, all on his own: you couldn't pay for cocksucking this good.]
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But Jeremiah also doesn't know who he's truly dealing with, either.
Groaning loud this time, he finally shifts himself to free up a hand, planting both feet back into the floor, nudging his shin between McGillis's thighs. He ends up seeking the back of his neck, sliding up to the hairline but not pushing, just cradles the dip at the base of McGillis's skull for stability as he tries not to melt into the scalding column of his throat. It's slow at first, for the urgency seeping into his core, dragging his hips back, choking on his inhale at the sight of those last couple inches pulling out. Sure enough, he sinks right back into that impossible heat as easy as the first time.
He's mindful but intent as he moves, startled into attentiveness by unfamiliarity. It doesn't stop him from trying, giving another slow push. This time, his eyes catch the bulge in McGillis's throat shifting with him, and Jeremiah shakes with the force of his gasp.]
Shit... McGillis...
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For a moment, though, the situation turns a bit precarious; McGillis may have had the manners of a noble, but he was raised by the streets. He fought for his food and fucked for his money. And as a street rat, he tended to react rather poorly to any stray touch to the back of his neck, to the raised spines of his own brutal surgery. At least he was aware enough to realize that Jeremiah meant nothing by it, so there was no reason for any sort of altercation. But regardless, he does hesitate—likely long enough to communicate that this was definitely a no-no place.
The moment passes and McGillis finds himself distracted by that questing leg, all but humping it now to alleviate tension. McGillis withdraws for a few seconds, panting each time, coating Jeremiah's cock with saliva and gasping for air and returning for another round. As effortlessly as the rest of this encounter, he deepthroats Jeremiah and gives him the full experience of a proper prostitute. No longer abiding a slower pace, but then again, that was the point. He swallows like he was born to it and sucks until he wheezes, until he works himself into a full frenzy.
And when he finds the space to speak, it is only to incite Jeremiah further.]
Fuck my mouth—
[Permission granted. He wants to, needs to, has to feel that cock full force.]
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He's pushing harder with his leg now, more free to let his hips shift with it, still hanging on with every intent to reciprocate and yet chasing the opportunity to give anything in turn. As if a man like McGillis would ever come in his, well, suit over something like this, as if he could provide even a fraction of what that nasty mouth and slick throat were doing to him. The wait was worth it for this, watching him slip his mouth right off, his cock and McGillis's lips both streaked with spit, then diving back with that same ease as before. Tension has already built itself heavy in his thighs, his hips, the pit of his stomach. When the pace ticks up, he knows it's not slowing back down, and he won't have any choice but to be carried along with the tide.
McGillis speaks, and when he shoves his mouth back down Jeremiah swears he sees as much as feels his cock pulsing in his throat.
So he draws back, tightens his fingers around the railing, around those blonde locks, and complies. Jeremiah's not fast, not careless yet, but he's stopped holding back as he humps into his mouth. It makes the pleasure sink that much brighter into his nerves, forcing every exhale out of his mouth a little louder, a little harsher. Someone could hear the obscene slurp of McGillis's mouth, his own rasping sounds, but it's pleasure too good to stifle. As if the picture they'd paint should someone walk around this or that corner wouldn't be more damning.
He's not thinking about it, driving his hips faster to a luxurious groan, still trapped watching the swell down the column of his neck, knowing he can't last.]
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So he will make it good for the man. In fact, he will make it downright great, so amazing that he will have this exchange to compare to every other in this damnable world. Even half-shut, his eyes seem to taunt him; even robbed of the ability to speak, he goads Jeremiah towards climax. He continues to show off, shamelessly so, that he could and would continue to suck cock as it pleases him. He won't halt and he won't hesitate and he will shrug off every criticism because he was going to change the world. And he would start by ridding the hangar of that thing.
Or at least moving it someplace he could no longer see it. Small steps, really.
For now, though, McGillis will sit there and suffer. And he will suffer oh so sweetly, because he really wasn't kidding: he loves to suck cock and he loves to please men who think they are above his charms. Because nobody really was and that was part of the problem; just ask the friend he betrayed for the sake of that beautiful world. For now, though, enjoy the show.]
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He'll earn his victory, too. The satisfaction in his face, red from exertion and staring up with toxic eyes, they speak every inch to his wants. His wants to please to be pleased in turn, to get what he wants but have it given to him the way he wants it, too. And Jeremiah will walk away sated but bested, with a sweet memory to haunt him.]
I'm close.
[Jeremiah couldn't care less as he rides the high of the moment, for this brief time, while it's his. He's watching McGillis, carefully gripping his hair with both hands now, fucking in earnest to get the rest of the way there, fucking him like he's buried somewhere else. Moaning breathlessly on every thrust, his chest heaves with the force of his ragged pants, spine curling inward as his muscles begin to go taut.]
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Deliberately slow, McGillis drags out his tongue and drags out Jeremiah. Pressing that reddened cheek flush to his cock, he makes a sloppy mess of all that precome and makes damn sure that Jeremiah will look at nothing and no one else but that smirking, sneering face. Like staring into the jaws of a snake, poised to deliver the final blow. Curling inward, prepared to strike.
And it was going to hurt so, so good.]
Go on, then.
[He leans into that tight hold, encourages an even tighter one. And dares him, right at the very end.]
All over my face, since you were thinking of it.
[...there's just no cure for that relentless brand of audacity.]
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And again, the first few movements are on the side of cautious until he gets a feel for it, McGillis's cheek plush and hot against him. Strange at first, but he understands quickly enough, so close that the friction quickly makes up for the loss of his throat. Jeremiah tightens his grip sure enough, fistfuls of his hair to anchor him as he rocks, sliding his length furious and slippery against his face.]
Oh... oh, oh-
[Hissing, he pushes harder and speeds up, taut enough to be perfectly telling, his strokes short and needy and fast. It's just a little cruel, rutting his hips so hard, but it doesn't last for long. A shudder crashes through him when he comes, a clipped shout eking out of his open mouth before he can stifle it, curling inward with the force of his orgasm. His cock pulses, pressed so close that he just gushes all over that pretty face, his forehead and his cheeks and the bridge of his nose catching it all, with nowhere else for it to go.
It wrings everything Jeremiah has out of him, and once the storm passes he straightens and falls back a little, implants clunking against the railing as his body is left wiped for a moment. His grip loosens, finally relinquishing McGillis's hair to cup his head. He doesn't speak, just pants through parted lips, gazing down with every inch of desire he has, drinking the sight in.]
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Despite the sheer salaciousness of it—or perhaps because of it—McGillis revels in every lewd moment. He knows very well that Jeremiah has lost; he knows very well that he was to blame and that Jeremiah will not soon forget every sight and every sound of what took place here. As his composure cracks, as he chants oh, oh, oh, McGillis grins like an absolute fox. Almost mean, almost mocking, except he won't deny the man his rightful reward. He managed to last this long, after all, longer than most. Seeing him through was the least he could do.
It may have been a little cruel but McGillis likes it a lot worse. Parting his lips and awaiting his own reward, McGillis catches a few drops on his tongue while the rest of that furious orgasm will find a home all over that beautiful face. Streaking his cheeks, painting his skin, soiling his hair and dripping down his nose. Somehow it seems to suit him, that defilement, that ruin.
Sticky seed coats his fingers and falls into his waiting mouth, wide enough for Jeremiah to witness. Yet unsatisfied, he unzips the front of his suit and proceeds to jack off into his other hand. Until he comes too and makes an even bigger mess and it was impossible to tell who did what and where. Maybe that was the whole point. Maybe it was a not so subtle form of entrapment.
You can't escape me now, so says the snake. The snake that now rests on its laurels, recovering from its hearty meal.]
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He could look at McGillis for some time, though it doesn't take long for him to catch on to the movement below. Jeremiah groans softly, watching his hand work with equal hunger to let it continue and intervene so he can return some measure of the favor. Fully hard, his cock is better than he'd imagined, he just looks so good that Jeremiah waits too long watching him caught up in his own pleasure.
And even he wouldn't dare complain, not now, not after receiving the best blowjob of his life, not while it's all compiling in his head, just watching McGillis come satisfying in its own right. But there's a knit to his brow, one that doesn't quite pair with the rest of his expression, still warm in the afterglow, knowing his chance was robbed of him.
The satisfied look McGillis maintains through it all lays claim to committing the very crime.
And what can he say in turn, really, that McGillis doesn't already know? Words feel useless to describe what transpired. This doesn't feel like a loss either, even with his pride bested, not just from the warmth settled in his bones. If he wants him to give chase, well, good. It would be harder for him not to.]
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And when he speaks up again, it is with that same smoothness. That same deliberate purr, the same clever roll of his tongue from their first meeting on the beach. As if he wasn't a disgusting mess, as if he had no shame or no pride at all. Or maybe he did have some pride, the pride of utterly pleasing a man and driving him towards inevitable ruin.
And of course he will smile, because McGillis knows nothing else.]
You will move your monstrosity, as agreed.
[Such a beautiful order from beautiful lips. And of course he will go on:]
Then you will carry on with your day and forget this ever happened.
[But of course you won't.]
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The words are about what he expects, but there's no change to his voice after the way Jeremiah had treated him. He's really not sure how, but then again, clearly there's a lot he still has to piece together about a brigadier general this good at swallowing a man whole.]
Of course, as we had agreed.
[Jeremiah straightens, expression evening as he politely tucks himself in his underwear before doing anything else. It's a mess, he's a mess, nothing can be done for now. With his other hand, because he still likes to think himself a gentleman and wouldn't just offer him even further mess even if he clearly doesn't mind it, Jeremiah reaches out to offer McGillis assistance getting to his feet.
He doesn't need it, that much is obvious. But he'll see if he takes it anyway.]
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Are you sure about that...?
[He seems to be referring to something else. That or he simply continues to play the game, long after he has already won.]
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Yes.
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You should request a meeting with the Augur. I believe they will be willing to barter with you now.
[Maybe that would be a better demonstration of sex and its influence. Dryly he adds:]
Try to secure a space for yourself, as opposed to wandering the wastes like a vagrant.
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