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( office hours & overflow )
❥ stephen strange has office hours. these are hours during which people can come by
❥ this is an informal, word-of-mouth service. stephen appreciates some manner of compensation but will neither mention nor require it
❥ oocly, this is a mechanism for random non-phone threads. you don’t actually have to have a magic question. you can just come by and annoy the shit out of him
❥ just like the ic inbox i reserve the right to cram random shit in here
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The grab then initially has Hakkyuu making an instinctive fist, tendons in his wrist going tight as violin strings beneath Stephen's fingers, but everything happens a little too quick even for Hakkyuu as his back hits the wall and then he's kissing--
Well, it could have been anyone out of the dark like that in this city and perhaps worse than that it's an act that goes right to his dick his a hard, tight pulse that only gets worse as Stephen's taste and scent washes into his senses, makes his eyes flutter shut after that split second of shock and a abrupt, cut-down gasp buried between Stephen's lips and tongue before he immediately reaches up to snatch a just shy of harsh grasp on the back of the sorcerer's neck.
Sometimes words are utterly overrated.]
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stephen couldn’t manage it. the second he had lost sight of hakkyuu at the bar he had become aware, with a dangerous evenhandedness, that he wanted him. that look, more than a suggestion yet less than an offer--and there was stephen strange, wasting time with mediocrity; utterly unheard of, particularly when something better was on the table, something that by now felt too laser-cut to his tastes--
not that hakkyuu had done that on purpose, become too close to some damn near perfect fuck, and certainly not for his sake. that was just wires crossing, skewed programming, that first-day natural chemistry and then repetition, practice making perfect; how easy it was, after all, to fuck a friend who made you laugh, and then to keep fucking him--
and then, watching him slip away, like something else richly desired yet slipping too nimbly through stephen’s fingers, except this time it was someone who maybe wanted to be caught. who would allow it. who was allowing it now, shoved up against the damp brick, arched up into him. how could he not want him? how could anyone not?
so stephen is kissing him, biting his mouth open to tongue-fuck him there, and he crowds him in until they’re hip to hip. he’s iron hard in his jeans, rubbing the suggestion of all that cock hard against hakkyuu’s thigh. you did this, you do this to me. his hands, finding hakkyuu’s thighs, hefting him up off the ground and then against the wall to grind against him harder, punishingly, punishing for them both. ]
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But punishing is the word here and he feels it through every hot, hard line of Stephen's body. Every breath and bite. Every grab and shove. More to the point, Hakkyuu feels like he deserves it. Earned it, maybe, if he's playing with words again.
There's a short moment where there's a tension that ripples through him like he's considering some kind of resistance, maybe on principle of being lifted the way Stephen does, maybe just to be contrary, but he dislike the idea of scrambling to try and find footing against when it's definitely out of reach. And, oh, he gets the message loud and clear. Loud enough that he doesn't bother to curb the wide, vulpine grin that spreads out under Stephen's lips or the low, throaty chuckle that curls back in on itself into a groan as Stephen's tongue feels like its making an aggressive grab for territory in Hakkyuu's mouth.
Should he feel bad for getting Stephen into this state? Eh. Stephen will live. Even if he's irritated because he's hard as a rock and was forced to wait to do anything about it, but he'll live. He'll even live as Hakkyuu drives his hand into Stephen's hair to grab and pull, riding the same energy they're going into this with as he keeps that kiss in tact and his other hand reflexively braces back against the damp brick behind him.]
18 days later smdh
but the reality of stephen strange is that he’s intense and entitled, that he covers under a sheet of cloudy ice the red-hot tumult underneath. hakkyuu had his measure first. in a realm unlike any he’d ever seen, he’d found someone willing if not pliable, and he sank his teeth in, he shoved--and he’d wanted it too, the harsh shove back that he had received. as if you can delineate the boundaries of what and who you are by impacts only, that you can tell where you end and something else starts because of proximity.
stephen has begun to consider that it might be healthy for him, to think like this, to want things that tell him his limits in no uncertain terms. he bites harder at hakkyuu’s mouth, close to blood-drawing; he trusts hakkyuu can keep himself up as he reaches between them to squeeze hungrily over the firm fine lines of hakkyuu’s ass, to dig aching fingers with bruising brutality over his hips. he grinds against him harder mid-kiss but lets his legs drop sooner rather than later, because he wants to turn him around, wants to fuck him hard in the alley without an exchange of words or permission. only lesser men would need it. stephen, drilling a hole in the fabric over hakkyuu’s crotch with his own hard cock, knows what they need; he knows what they both need. he’d known from the moment hakkyuu abducted his glass. he just knows. ]
💖💖💖
He's never had to worry about Stephen misreading anything, not about things that really matter--the stuff that's ephemeral in the air that's purely feelings based because trying to put words to it would undermine the entire point. It's something about trust, probably; something shared on a deep level that's easily recognisable to those it calls to.
Every part of Stephen calls to Hakkyuu, especially the sharp dig of his teeth against Hakkyuu's lips that he breathes a gasping-growl beneath into before invariably assaulting Stephen's mouth with his own, not to be outdone, not to be confused with someone who just accepts what's enacted upon them.
But this isn't going to be enough. It's already not enough. That's why Stephen gets a hard shove in the chest followed neatly by a fisting of fingers in the front of his shirt. Back up, but don't you dare go anywhere.
It's just enough space to let him do a few things in very short order--reach into his back pocket for a little silver sachet that gets lodged temporarily between his teeth, the dull metallic sheen showing the red-purple blossoming of his bitten lips more clearly. Then, his belt gets unhooked to make short work of the button and zip at the front of his pants to shuck them down just enough to let the lines of his hips show through the dark material. And then, he reaches back up again to grasp the sachet in his mouth and, while keeping a firm grip with his teeth, tear off a corner and then squeeze the lube within it into his palm one-handed.
It's all done in seconds and without once eye-contact with Stephen, right up until Hakkyuu is turning away from the sorcerer so his chest faces the wall instead, meaning the best he can manage is an over the shoulder glance that's more peripheral view than direct stare as he slides the lubed hand past the waistband of his loosened pants and between his legs to at least enact some cursory form of prep. It's a tease too though--the actions very clear indeed, though he hasn't bothered to shove his clothes away enough to give Stephen a good, clear view of Hakkyuu working his slicked fingers inside himself.]
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stephen does not have his head on straight. as soon as hakkyuu turns around he’s crowding him in again with an arm stretched out, bent hand flat against the wall to shut the rest of the world out; he’s dropping his head to hakkyuu’s shoulder to watch, his gaze dropping down with an appetite that rears up deep in his body, hungry, starving. ]
Fuck.
[ it’s the first word he’s said to hakkyuu all night, and it’s to nimble fingers, sudden movements, the suggestion of that clever killer’s hand sinking inside himself.
he bites the nape of hakkyuu’s neck, a hard push of bared teeth, pulling his shirt to one side with his other hand to suck bruising kisses over the juncture of his shoulder. and then he’s breathing fire engine hot against skin again as he reaches down between them to do all the more necessary shoving of clothes: rucking up hakkyuu’s shirt, fingers skating over his waist and sharp hipbones, and then unzipping his own suit trousers next, tugging out his cock, his fist brushing up against skin as he presses in close. ]