sorserer | ( office hours & overflow )

If you didn’t you wouldn’t let me do it.

[ accompanied by a shrug. it’s true enough, in stephen’s experience; at least from tawdry anecdotes and laughter shared over liquor that hakkyuu isn’t above kicking men out of bed, laughing in their face, leaving well enough alone. that’s even before stephen draws on a personal photobook of memories, his perfect recall summoning with pristine ease and clarity how hakkyuu looks in bed, up against walls, bent over and keening. ]

I did get around to it. Splitting you in half that first night. We had seconds in the morning. [ in his voice, the suggestion of bared teeth again. ] Your sheets were new, and you couldn’t stop soaking them ...

[ his grip firms just so on hakkyuu’s ass, enough to bring him down again, a drag of that lithe lean body over stephen’s cloth-covered cock, and with terrible smoothness to match that terrible grace: ]

We’ve been good friends ever since.

[If Hakkyuu really let his mind parse through it, he'd probably realise that the jittery apprehension about all of what Stephen is suggesting doesn't give the impression of someone overtly cruel or sadistic or even a real bastard. Yeah, sure, Stephen is being a bit of a bastard, but Hakkyuu's survival instincts are strong and keen even as a teenager and even with the flurries of feeling overwhelmed that make him want to leap back across the room, if he imagined Stephen's words and actions coming from someone else it would feel truly dangerous.

Deep, deep down, in the temporarily bottled up memories and many nights doing precisely what Stephen is alluding to and then some, there is a sense of safety. Stephen, in all the ways that count, is safe. Not gentle or nice or even kind necessarily, but those things don't matter as much. He's not doing anything he isn't sure Hakkyuu would like--he's not taking advantage and pushing firmly set boundaries as he toys with other lines that Hakkyuu would very much normally allow Stephen to test.

The drag of Stephen's hard dick through his slacks against Hakkyuu's ass summons a multitude of mental images, all of which making him groan involuntarily with a deep downward shudder as he pulls his face in against Stephen's shoulder.]

Anyone tell you lately that you're real nasty, doc?

[There's hardly any teeth in that, more like a verbal attempt at a shove that may not even have connected.

From where his face is shoved against Stephen's shoulder, he sort of glances down to watch where his crotch presses upon Stephen's hip, watches the generous swell in his pants framed between his legs, and swallows with difficulty as he realises his mouth has gone dry and his face burns a deep red like his hair.]

Whose word do you trust more, mine or his? What would you do if I told you no? Would he tell you no?

[Because older Hakkyuu feels like someone else, someone separate to himself even as Stephen says 'you' and 'we' consistently. Even if he knows in his gut they're one and the same.]

[ stephen strange wears many hats: former medical professional, master of the mystic arts, occasional co-savior of the universe. he would never, under any circumstances, describe himself as a nice guy. not because he’s a mean one, either: he’s somewhere in between and outside, an ethical man, a principled one, but also a real asshole at the end of the day, the kind of piece of work who lets friends and allies twist in the wind for his pride.

part of why stephen likes hakkyuu, when they aren’t at each other’s throats these days, is because hakkyuu seems to understand that intrinsically. likes it, even, to a point when stephen explains his reasoning behind choices that might make lesser men flinch it only seems to raise him further in hakkyuu’s regard. stephen can’t say he isn’t grateful, can’t say that some part of him doesn’t bask in the attention of someone whose attention is hard to keep. and the ready access he’s had to that attention, to hakkyuu’s body too, has been part and parcel of carving a home for himself in this beleaguered corner of the multiverse. even in these bad days he’s loath to give him up.

so it’s with frank earnestness that stephen says, ]

“He” can tell me no whenever he wants. As can you. I could even send you home. [ pragmatism takes over for a moment--would he have to check out of the hotel to have this effect reversed? he could probably find out without leaving his seat.

he lets his head loll back against the armchair, gives him the elevator eyes again, like he’s someone stephen could easily devour. ]

And then I’d enjoy the rest of my stay here, thinking about fucking you. And maybe I’ll have someone else. And maybe, while I’m having them, I’ll be thinking about fucking you ... [ he trails off and then shrugs: all these matters of no consequence. and then--grins. ] I’ve done that before too.

[ there you go, future hakkyuu. a shameless admission, offered up like a little treat. ]

[Something sinks into the depths of Hakkyuu where he can't reach and it sits there, hard and heavy and impossible to ignore as he necessarily sits back to stare into Stephen's face. He doesn't even have to try to know that if he called Stephen's bluff that he'd probably immediately find himself alone in a cold, empty bed across town, Stephen nowhere to be found and not way to get back to him. He may not even bother to send Hakkyuu's clothes with him. But Hakkyuu knows, right down in his gut, that if he pushes it Stephen would make good on that threat.

A threat which should sound reassuring--like he's offering Hakkyuu a door out if he's really scared.

It's very possible now that the heavy flush to Hakkyuu's face is just a permanent fixture of the night now as it feels like every little thing Stephen says or does just renews the rush of blood to his cheeks.

There's a gauntlet being laid down. That either way, Stephen is going to enjoy a version of Hakkyuu somewhere--right here and now, later when he's ostensibly back to himself, or mentally without Hakkyuu there at all. Stephen is going to get off to what he wants to get off to and it's going to be Hakkyuu.

And there's a nasty little seed being planted there too, something that right now doesn't take root but will grow and twist all around Hakkyuu's mind later when this is all over, when his skin and hair have turned porcelain and his eyes have become that eerie colour, when he's alone and replaying that confession that will be so full of thorns by then that it's impossible to pull it out and present back to Stephen without causing tremendous damage.

He leans back slightly, looking over his cheekbones at Stephen in a vague shadow of an expression he'll wear in the future with much sharper angles.]

You're pretty gross, y'know? [Then, after his eyes narrow and he sighs through his nose--] But it sure sounds like you got it pretty bad for him if you're doing shit like that even with other people.

[He tips his head to the side, watching Stephen sidelong before giving a slow, experimental forward roll of his hips--experimental, but purposeful.]

Guess he must have it bad for you too though if he lets you get away with being like that. So? [He presses his weight down, feeling the heat of Stephen through the thin fabric.] The bed or the chair, hm? Do you care which or is it just about--[There's a slight pause, barely a second but it's there as he forces it out to meet the challenge being laid out]--fucking me, so where it happens doesn't matter?

Edited 2022-06-15 23:41 (UTC)

[ at the roll of his hips stephen lets out a long, slow breath that stirs a little fall of hair over his brow. his usual perfect gel job tends to unwind over the course of a day, and he’s been relaxing and letting a teenager dry hump him for the better part of two hours now; between that and the come stains all along the front of his three-piece, the daubs of it in his beard, he’s largely ready to give up on his rigorously attended formality.

he tilts his head at the words, raises his eyebrows up at hakkyuu. the look he gives him is plainly level, that low light back in his eyes like the suggestion of gold in dark water: a man as much in command of reality at large as he is in command of his own. ]

I just might.

[ now, that part’s gonna be trouble. later he can think, maybe a handle of scotch on an empty stomach was a bad idea, roughly on par with fucking a teenage version of someone who might be your best friend even when he, apparently, can’t stand the sight of you. later he can think: when was liking someone like that, liking them or worse, ever gonna pan out in this city? what does that even mean?

but in the warm fluorescents of the suite chandelier, that face staring familiarly at him, and his body puppeteered by lust, the vague shapes of those future worries only makes the swoop of uncertainty in his gut hot rather than hesitant. so fucking what, he thinks, staring hard in those eyes. you’re not the only one with cards close to your chest. ]

It’d be a shame to waste the bed.

[That confession doesn't feel all that significant to Hakkyuu right now. Later, in his own mind, with only the dark of night around him, those words will refuse to let him rest. It'll feel like torment trying to both work out the shape of it in terms of meaning and also hate that he's wasting time on something he doesn't want to find a defined structure for. It'll be one of the best and worst things Stephen has ever said.

And right now, it feels like a throw away comment to a bratty teenager baiting him.

Turning his head to look at the bed, Hakkyuu feels his pulse skip again with the building sense that dancing around this is going to have a final landing point what is starting to feel like very short order.]

From what you were saying, I doubt it'd be a waste either way.

[He stays still for a moment longer, then turns back to look at Stephen with as firm and resolved expression as he can before reaching to grasp onto his wrist and pull as he slides back off the sorcerer's knees to a stand.]

Well? You just gonna stay there while I take the bed or what?

Yeah, yeah.

[ he rises from the armchair, which he’s been in for what seems like forever, and follows dutifully. it’s with mild amusement that he allows himself to be led by the wrist towards the bed. he has on a watch that doesn’t quite match his suit, but only astute eyes would realize the watch and suit don’t match. ]

[ If Hakkyuu's eyes were more amethyst than tigers eye then he would note the watch, notice it doesn't sit as neatly in Stephen's generally impeccable eye of detail and style, but in that case he'd know the origin of that watch and there would be other questions.

Right now, Hakkyuu has no such questions along those lines as he steps back slowly and carefully, keeping a pretty solid hold on Stephen like a tether, as much to make sure he is actually moving from the chair as it is Hakkyuu making sure he doesn't get spooked—if he has hold of Stephen it's grounding. Even as the backs of his naked legs hit the side of the bed to bring him to a pause while he looks up at Stephen without lifting his head.]

Don't seem too eager now.

[ stephen cocks his head, raises his eyebrows--it’s not even a dare, but he hasn’t hesitated to overwhelm the kid so far today, why stop now?

another faint laugh works its way out of his throat. he waits for hakkyuu’s legs to hit the bedside. his other hand comes up again and sweeps a brief affectionate touch over the side of hakkyuu’s face, thumb tracing over a cheekbone and then the corner of hakkyuu’s mouth. his touch follows the bow of his lower lip, indulgent. ]

I wouldn’t question my enthusiasm.

[ hakkyuu is--really short. and really skinny. stephen, six feet, lean superhero build and still suited, has the disposition of, at the very least, a professional scold. it’s in this moment, more than any of the self-evidently nastier ones that preceded it, that chances stephen’s bemusement with its comic wrongness.

the moment passes easily, another possible personal quandary for stephen to shelve. he coaxes hakkyuu’s arm right back up over his shoulders so he can lean down and kiss him again; so he can ease him further back, down onto the made sheets, whose finery seems to match stephen’s tastes perfectly. and then he’s stretching out over him, a dark spill of a man over him, and kissing him harder, his hands starting to wander. ]

[In just about any other context, Stephen doing any vague impression of anything that looks and sounds like a figure of authority would get precisely the amount of respect and deference expected from a street kid approaching their late teens after fighting tooth and nail for a meal and something to keep the rain off overnight. Which is to say the tone itself earns Stephen a flat stare and a mild upward lift of a brow, though any associated snark is withheld, at least verbally.

The reality of the situation is that Stephen is right: Hakkyuu doesn't get much taller than this, he just learns how to make it work for him with time. In the state he's in now, so much of survival has come down to pure devil's luck, something he hasn't even remotely come close to acknowledging or understanding yet and therefore in other contexts makes him feel like he really is just hot shit.

It's very difficult to feel that way with someone who exudes confidence in an area that Hakkyuu is expressly rattled about through lack of experience, and not only that brings methodical patience to their very overt wants that are very keenly targeted at him. It's also not as though Hakkyuu is blissfully unaware of the difference in their builds, it's just that something hits a bit differently as Stephen pools over him like that, enveloping what feels like everything like night closing in. At the very least, Hakkyuu has never been scared of shadows.

With the security of the fine mattress beneath, that kiss can get more intense with very little to stop it--Hakkyuu has no space to move into now except forward to Stephen. Which is surprisingly easy at this stage, his warmth, scent and enigmatic familiarity enticing as he moans softly against the older man's lips, one leg drawing up to brace an especially deep shudder that runs through him as his other arm joins the the first looped across Stephen's strong shoulders.]

[ he coaxes hakkyuu further up on the bed, for the glossy wood of the headboard to be within gripping range for either of them, then deepens the kiss, that heady momentum building like a low engine again between them both. he reaches first between them, terrifically businesslike, to adjust his tie as he works over hakkyuu’s kiss-bruised lips, the column of his throat, drinking in the sound of his moans.

with the invitation of that braced leg he forgets the tie: he’s hitching back hakkyuu’s legs further with warm scarred hands back in the tender hollows beneath each knee, pushing them nearly against his chest, delighting privately in how that easy flexibility seems to be lifelong for him. and then, shifting between his legs, there’s a kind of incongruous moment where he brushes his mouth over an oddly neutral spot on hakkyuu’s ankle--grinning a little down at him, another keepsake for an older hakkyuu to punch him in the head over later--

i just might. no shit, he thinks. whatever this is, this easy, hungry comfort, it’s not exactly brain surgery. ]

Well. If you were worried.

[ about his eagerness, or anything else--well. it’s hard to tell when exactly he made it further down the bed: it might be more magic, or stephen’s own inclination to make the in-between gestures disappear amid sparking electrostatic sensation. he’s bending hakkyuu further, pushing soft fingertip bruises into the lean meat of his thighs, and then over his ass. parting it oh so carefully, letting out a hot breath against the base of his cock, the tender skin of his balls, before he’s tonguing a hot severe stripe over hakkyuu’s hole. ]

[As far as Hakkyuu's thinking about moving his legs were concerned... he didn't have any thoughts. It certainly wasn't intended as the invitation Stephen takes it as and the way he goes about spreading and pushing and positioning Hakkyuu's body takes on a whole other level of breaking his teenage mind.

It feels way too exposed and intimate to have Stephen suddenly all up and close and very personal like that, all his attention feeling wrong and kind of dirty and simultaneously one of the hottest things Hakkyuu has seen and he just really doesn't know what to do with this contradiction.

There's the briefest moment of something like cold terror that grips Hakkyuu when he realises, watching Stephen's head between his legs and framed by the twitching pink head of his own straining cock, what is about to happen.]

Woah--! Wait! You can't--!

[You can't seems like the kind of phrase that only serves one purpose to people like Stephen, and later Hakkyuu himself, in that it's likely to illicit the sentiment of: just fucking watch me.

This seems especially true here as Hakkyuu feels the way Stephen's tongue draws across an area of his body he really doesn't think tongues should be. And yet. And yet, the moment it happens there's doesn't seem to be any logic to back that up. Hell, there's no logic at all, just the stunned expression on his face where he can't tear his eyes away from Stephen between his legs as he teeters on the edge of trying to decide if this is already going too far and he's way out of his depth.]

[ stephen doesn't even really deign to respond to hakkyuu's very reasonable shock; he registers it as a jolt in the body splayed out beneath him, not forceful enough to need reining in, but for the most part he keeps his senses where they need to be. his fingertips push into hakkyuu's hot-running flesh, keeping him exposed as stephen--

well. takes a second, actually, to meet his eyes, and winks, because he's a bastard like that.

and then he's nuzzling again over hakkyuu's crotch, rasp of goatee suggestive against his cock, but yeah, he's going back to eating him out now, slowly at first, careful hot flickers of his tongue against where hakkyuu is most exposed. ]

[Ugh. The wink is awful and if that had been directed anywhere near Hakkyuu in a moment like this Stephen would have felt firm knuckles planting firmly and mercilessly on the side of his stupid skull.

In this case... Maybe it's that Hakkyuu doesn't know better, or maybe it's just the timing, or a culmination of several things, but whatever it is that cocky bastard wink makes him blush so furiously it's a wonder he's not about to pass out with all the blood rushing to his head. It's also awful for Stephen's ego and it's a shame he doesn't have a full grasp on that yet.

Any further protests fully die in his throat though, entirely cannibalised by the sounds that climb up through his throat--long, drawn-out and unstifled through the position his body is in as he shivers down through the expert manoeuvrability of Stephen's tongue in all the places it absolutely shouldn't be as he reaches one hand down to grasp the material cresting Stephen's shoulder.]

[ the immediacy of the flush that burns hakkyuu’s skin is its own reward. he takes a moment to have visibly relished in it, then gets right back to the matter at hand.

stephen likes eating people out. this is something hakkyuu already knows about him in some indeterminate future--which for stephen, given the last time he was able to touch him, is already long past. he’s good at it, too, kneading the supple muscle of hakkyuu’s cheeks at a rhythm oddly in concert with how he works his tongue over the furl of his asshole, with the barest suggestion of slipping inside, the low heady breaths he takes against the most sensitive inches of hakkyuu’s skin. he actually groans himself while he’s down there, tasting him. in a way it’s been too long; in a way he’s missed this. and if that’s something hakkyuu realizes later, well, that’ll be his problem, no his own time. for now he wants more of those drawn-out porno mewls, wants to see just how hard and wet and wanting hakkyuu can get after coming once already. stephen was a teenager too once, after all; he wants to stretch that vitality to its limits. ]

[Something that flashes up in Hakkyuu's mind as he feels the heat of his breath pour across his ass and his tongue move expertly along and creeping inside his hole, making his insides judder and everything feel sweltering and slick, both physically and mentally. But what pops into his mind is Stephen, in his low, velvety voice, telling Hakkyuu that he's split him in half.

Conceptually, Hakkyuu knows Stephen meant with his cock, and yet with his mouth working like that over and inside his ass like that, he pictures something similar on the same theme--something less overtly violent but makes him think about pushing thumbs into the middle of a fruit to pull it apart and leaning in to lap up the juice spilling out.

It feels obscene, both in literal sensation and from the mental association that scurries through Hakkyuu's mind and it arrives just as Stephen's tongue finds an especially sensitive spot in tandem with one of those wonderful groans that occasionally escapes from Stephen. The timing of those things clashing together makes Hakkyuu's hips jerk forward, the movement making his cock bob and slap back against his own belly and drawing a weeping string of pre-cum out from the head of his swollen prick as arrested, more desperate-sounding noises claw their way out of his throat, the sort of noises that would be very at home on any of Duplicity's illicit streaming services.

He doesn't even really notice that the noises he's making are getting louder, that his breathing is getting more ragged in a way that makes the lines of his chest all the more pronounced as he tries to suck in and push out as much air as he can though his lung capacity is more constricted with his legs up in that way. It makes Hakkyuu feel light-headed, not fully aware of his grip on Stephen's arm gripping harder, thighs showing a few light shudders initially and steadily building up in intensity.

Then, briefly, his eyes open wide before rolling back in his skull with a half-attempt to call Stephen's name that turns into a long cry with silenced moments along the way where his throat can't fully sustain the sound as thin ribbons of cum across his own stomach and a few stray strands flying forward as his hips jerk involuntarily.

Throughout, he doesn't let go of Stephen's arm.]

[ stephen loves this look on other people: splayed out and quivering, whining in their throat. it’s the kind of thing he tries to stay alert for so he can commit it to that photographic memory of his, something to mentally turn over with fondness in private.

but he’s seen hakkyuu in this state before, so he chooses instead to stay focused on the task at hand, tongue-fucking him through it, easing up only when the tremors pulsing through hakkyuu start to subside.

he presses a short sweet kiss to hakkyuu’s twitching balls: a little congratulatory, a period at the end of a sentence. then he draws back with a huff, tongue sweeping at last over his own lower lip. he’s still in his shoes, still suited and everything as he surveys his handiwork, stroking a comforting hand over the outside of hakkyuu’s thigh and turning his other hand to recall his glass of scotch. he drinks it all in: the star-bright taste of the liquor, the sight of fresh come striping hakkyuu’s flushed chest. lets him breathe through it, smirking against the lip of the glass. ]

[The difference between the state Hakkyuu might be in within the aftermath of one of Stephen's favourite bedroom activities is something like the moon and sun--the typical look all pale silvers and frosty pinks whereas right now he's all bronze and burgundy; frosty winter mornings compared to warm summer dusk.

There's a bit of a time lapse for him as he lays all flopped out on the bed, face warm from the second orgasm, ruddy red hair spilt against the crisp white pillow and his arms haphazardly flopped over his head as his chest heaves and he makes no attempt to get control of his ragged breathing.

He does, however, half open his eyes in time to catch Stephen leering above him, tumbler clasped in his scarred hands, under his cool blue gaze. It's extremely distressing how attractive Stephen looks like that, seemingly entirely unbothered by everything, sipping his drink like he could be anywhere, except his focus is so pointedly on Hakkyuu it's like being pinned right in place.

So while Stephen takes him in, Hakkyuu does the same from the opposite side, his breathing starting to settle enough that the heavy inhales and exhales can more through his nose instead as he just burns that image of Stephen deeply into his mind, a picture that will return to him long after this session is over, and linger crisp and clear even when Stephen is no longer in Duplicity for a time.]

[ stephen lingers comfortably in the mutual scrutiny, but there’s a corner of his mind, small and traitorous, that realizes that if hakkyuu were his normal self--if the events from the festival hadn’t taken place--they’d be talking right now. shooting the shit, maybe, both sex and conversation so easy that neither would feel parenthetical, one looping into the other until exhaustion took them both.

he doesn’t have the time stone anymore, so there’s no vision of the future that promises him anything of the sort. the sudden uneasy sense of loss is a skin-deep frisson that he’s quick to dismiss. he reaches over to set the glass down on the nightstand--

and toes his shoes off, one oxford and then the next, reaching up to pull the tie loose at last. his trousers are light enough that it’s not hard to see his erection has only partly flagged, but there’s a damp spot from having been hard for so long. ]

Still with me, kid?

[The only frame of reference Hakkyuu has for how these sorts of things are supposed to go are from Vrenille sharing various encounters with clients. The good, the bad, the really fucking weird, and the incredibly gross. But he doesn't really know what moments like this are supposed to be like, what they're meant to feel like, if he's supposed to feel so utterly captivated.

He doesn't know that there would be some relaxed chuckling through the hard breathes here, some light teasing, some beckoning. He doesn't know that Stephen's tie would have already been thoroughly abused by now, all scrunched up in a fist, fingers in the knot to keep it from slipping with either slow downward temptation or forceful, demanding tugs.

There's just no frame of reference because his memory only has faded memories of Stephen's responses, not what was said to elicit them.

The question though gets a soft huff of amusement as he tips his head back against the plush bed.]

Where else would I be?

[Where indeed. If contemporary Hakkyuu's recent actions are anything to go by, he'd be putting distance between himself and Stephen. So, not here, probably.]

You’d be surprised.

[ he’s shrugging off the suit jacket last, tossing it towards the armchair he was in before. the tie hangs slackly beneath the pressed collar of his shirt. he leans back on one hand when he’s just in shirtsleeves, feet on the floor, takes a long breath.

and then he shifts a little, reaches a hand back, cards hakkyuu’s sweat-matted hair back from his head. looks, for a second, at the red trailing over his scarred fingertips. ]

Don’t get too cozy.

Why, you about to send me off to grab takeout?

[It's said so casually yet in conjunction with a slight upward lean toward Stephen's hand and tilting back to follow the crest of the touch as far back as he can manage to keep it with half-lidded eyes.

Everything smells so keenly like him in a way he's not so used to, sex hanging in the air like sticky summer heat and Stephen's restraint downright herculean at this point as he lets his head flop to the side and peer up at him with assessing brown eyes.

Stephen's not so scary now. Especially after his tongue has just been swirling and probing between Hakkyuu's cheeks like that. The plateau of inexperienced fear has surely been reached by now.]

[ without the full effect of the suit stephen knows he’s at least a little less intimidating: just a man, and men can be unraveled. he quirks another half-smile down at hakkyuu, drags his faintly unsteady fingers in a slow spine-tingling scratch over his scalp--but really, it’s just a pet. ]

I can’t bend you over if you fall asleep.

[Oh. Well that sure is a hint of something that later will make up a pretty important, very dog-eared part of Hakkyuu's sexual lexicon, the slight contrast of the soft with something a little sharper making him arch right back to chase after that sensation until he's effectively sitting with his hands propping him up against the bed to stare up the length of Stephen's body toward his face. He looks larger from that angle, though it's probably a trick of the perspective. ]

I'm not falling asleep.

[It's a very petulant grumble about the least important part of what Stephen's said.]

Just saying.

[ stephen makes absolutely no effort to clean him up, either; in fact he looks the mess over again with that same simmering hunger in his eyes. he shifts sideways again, up against the headboard himself now, pulling hakkyuu back on his lap. his next magic trick: a glass water bottle from the minibar appears in his hand, which he hands over. ]

Drink. [ ... shrug. ] Unless you want the scotch instead.

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