Jack knew he was screwed the moment Paul walked through the door of the interrogation room.
An entire hour had passed of Jack with his hands cuffed behind him, anxiously waiting for Paul or even one of his goons to show up and interrogate him. Jack knew Paul had an important speech to give, but Paul had expressed his need to talk to Jack himself. He didn’t know whether he would’ve preferred Paul or his right hand man, Hatch.
Either way, when Paul strutted in with his expensive suit, he promptly paused at the door to take in the sight of the man he once called his friend, smiling vaguely. Jack’s breath caught a little when his bright gaze came to rest on Paul’s silver hair and aged expression. He disguised his desire by swallowing, adam’s apple bobbing, which Paul took as a sign of anxiety.
Jack would be lying if he said the sight of Paul didn’t get his pulse thrumming. He had a minor crush on Paul when they were teenagers, during a time when he was going through his many phases, but seeing Paul aged by seventeen years does things to Jack. Things that Paul would be willing to exploit in order to get answers out of Jack if he found out.
Paul walked over to the table, grabbing the seat across from Jack without saying a word. They both remained silent for a few tense moments, taking in each other for the first time since the shit hit the fan. Well, for the first time in proper lighting and without being distracted at least. Paul looks at him with a faint glimmer of curiosity, corner of his mouth twitching, much in the same way someone would if they haven’t seen their best friend in years, which is understandable.
Jack, however, doesn’t have the luxury of playing off his poorly concealed desire as curiosity. Jack wasn’t the one who had to relive a whole decade, and then some. Jack was instantaneously reunited with Paul moments after the fracture in time, so he didn’t have many excuses for the way his eyes studied this significantly older version of Paul. Jack’s eyes were parched with want and Paul was the oasis he so badly needed in order to quench the thirst.
Some point after their staring contest, Paul breaks the silence with the obligatory question Jack could sense was coming and he deflects it with nonchalance, loving the way Paul’s expression soured at his petulance. Jack pretty much tuned out afterward when Paul started talking about the jumper they witnessed as children.
He heard Paul’s words but didn’t associate any meaning to them as he was too entranced by the way Paul’s lips formed around every syllable and how the corners of his eyes wrinkled slightly from his somewhat advanced age. He looked haunted as a result from moving between the past and the future, and he was absolutely beautiful because of it. He must have been gawking because Paul’s voice eventually died down and he leaned back in his seat, staring at Jack with a sly look of knowing.
“Am I boring you, Jack?” Paul asked when Jack was taken away from his musings. “You seem preoccupied.”
“Sorry, it’s just getting kinda hard to process all the bullshit that’s being spoon fed to me,” Jack quipped, trying to anchor his resolve as best as he could.
“Something tells me you’d secretly enjoy that,” Paul teased, leaning forward to rest his arms on the top of the table. “The spoon feeding, I mean. Not the bullshit,” he added quickly.
Paul pursed his lips outward, narrowing his gaze to gauge Jack’s reaction and being pleasantly surprised when the younger man flushed a little bit. Jack felt put on the spot, making him unable to answer Paul for a brief period of time, before his brain did what it was supposed to do and helped him form a cohesive sentence.
“Sounds to me like you’re grasping at straws,” Jack rebuked, clenching his jaw and trying to remain placid.
“Am I?” Paul inquired, smirking as if he can see right through Jack’s façade. He conceded a little bit and shrugged. “Perhaps… But it’s hard to tell when you’re acting like a child.”
“I think your old age is finally catching up to you,” Jack mocked, getting more defensive by the second. He squirmed against the handcuffs behind his back.
“Maybe so,” Paul thought out loud, staring down at his hands on the table and contemplating how true that statement was. He flicked his gaze back up to Jack, smirking again. “But I wear my years well, wouldn’t you agree?”
Jack averted his attention when Paul caught him staring again, looking off to the side instead as he gave a noncommittal shrug in response to Paul’s question. He could practically feel the smugness radiating off of Paul from across the table. Jack’s silence seemed to answer Paul’s question and this prompted the older man to push his chair back, gaining Jack’s attention from the screeching noise of the chair scraping along the floor. Paul rid himself of his suit jacket, hanging it on the back of his chair, and walked over to Jack’s side of the table.
Paul leaned against the edge of the table and slid over until he was right next to Jack, staring down at him with his arms crossed over his chest. Paul’s lips curled vaguely at one side when he saw Jack willfully trying to ignore him and his close proximity. Jack squirmed under Paul’s scrutiny, palms getting clammy as they restlessly twitch against the handcuffs.
“Where’s Will’s machine, Jack?” Paul asked, keeping his voice even and clear of any malice. It almost felt like they were still friends having casual conversation. “I know you know where it is. Will must have left a very particular bread crumb trail for you to find it.”
“I don’t have the slightest fucking idea what you’re talking about,” Jack replied as calmly as he could, staring resolutely at the sleek tabletop in front of him.
“You see, I find that hard to believe,” Paul admitted, leaning back with his palms against the table’s surface. “I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re full of shit.”
Paul’s whole posture changed. He made it a point to get into Jack’s personal space, looming over him to make him considerably more uncomfortable than he already was. Paul was charismatic and had a way of getting underneath your skin, being able to discover your pressure points. He could see the future before it even happened, giving him an advantage. Jack had lost before he ever started.
“You’re not an idiot, Jack, but you still have your own flaws,” Paul told him in earnest, leaning down far enough to look into Jack’s eyes. “I may be able to predict the future, but you knew Will. You knew things even I didn’t, but I know you. I know the way you think, Jack, and I will find out where Will’s hidden his machine sooner or later.”
“You won’t make me crack,” Jack said resolutely, but his voice broke just before he could finish his sentence and it was enough for Paul to pick up on.
“That’s what I'm talking about, Jack,” Paul reiterated, sighing, almost disappointed. “Even you don’t believe what you’re saying.”
Jack doesn’t say a word, choosing silence instead of a witty comment because he can’t trust his own voice to obey him. He kept his gaze fixed at the shiny surface before him, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as Paul tried to establish eye contact. There were a number of reasons why Jack refused to look at Paul, one being that the madman had killed his brother and the other being that he couldn’t stand to see Paul like this. Jack hadn’t answered Paul’s question earlier, but he does agree. Paul wore his age well and it shamed him to admit it.
There was a part of Jack that still thought of Paul as a friend, even after what had happened with Will, which made hating Paul extremely difficult. It certainly didn’t help that Paul was handsome and leaning in close enough to the point where he could feel the older man’s body heat radiating off of him. Paul stood upright after Jack refused to acknowledge him and walked around to stand behind his old friend instead.
Jack flinched considerably when Paul grabbed him by the shoulders, squeezing them slightly and putting Jack further on edge. He didn’t like the idea of Paul touching him and being able to do whatever he wanted while he was handcuffed. Jack felt vulnerable, at Paul’s mercy, and that didn’t sit well with him, especially with what Paul said next.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Jack, this isn’t really about whether or not I get answers. I’ll find Will’s machine with or without your help,” Paul told him frankly, kneading Jack’s shoulders in a vaguely tender massage. He leaned down so that his mouth was right by Jack’s ear, murmuring, “I’m really only here for you.”
Paul ducked down to plant a kiss against the side of Jack’s neck, causing the young, bright-eyed man to jerk away from the sudden intimate contact. He may be handcuffed, but it doesn’t stop Jack from acting on natural instinct. Paul re-established his control of the situation by pushing Jack firmly back down into the chair by the shoulders. He didn’t intend for it to be so rough, but Jack needed to be reminded that no amount of force would deter Paul from succeeding in his plans.
Jack let himself be manhandled back into his seat without further protest, too stunned by the way Paul had clearly kissed him. It seemed so out of place for Paul to just do something so impulsive like that, and on camera. Jack’s face flushed from embarrassment when he remembered the lone security camera screwed into the wall above them. There was a chance that maybe Paul disabled it beforehand, but Jack wasn’t holding his breath.
Paul was a show-off, a diva, that much was apparent when the older man had gave him the whole marketing spiel about Project Promenade just moments before the fracture. It wouldn’t surprise Jack if Paul wanted to keep this moment crystallized forever on film so he could relive it over and over in his head. That was one of Paul’s problems. He dwelled so much on the past that he let it dictate his future. He couldn’t save the vagrant because that was meant to be. The future was vague enough to Paul that he didn’t discourage the possibility that Jack could end up the same way.
“You need to relax, Jack. You’re so tense,” Paul pointed out, rubbing at Jack’s shoulders. “Just let go and give in. You can’t postpone the inevitable anymore than you can deny what your body wants.”
“I don’t want anything from you,” Jack proclaimed on a nervous exhale, eyebrows creasing with shame and worry.
“Saying it out loud won’t make it true,” Paul added, dipping back down to nuzzle at the side of Jack’s face. “I saw the way you looked at me. I saw the want in your eyes and how hard you were trying to discourage yourself. You want to hate me, but you can’t deny the obvious feelings you still have for me.”
“The only feelings I have for you are anger and disgust,” Jack spat, clenching his jaw. He felt dizzy with Paul leaning in so close to him that it made his head spin and his voice crack.
“Are you sure about that?” Paul inquired with a low and intimate tone as he ran his hands down Jack’s collarbone.
The younger man’s breath caught when he felt Paul fingering at the top buttons to his shirt, popping them open slightly to expose Jack’s clavicle. He ran a hand down into Jack’s open shirt, stroking the warm skin tenderly, as he gently kissed the young man on the neck again, earning him a surprised little gasp in the process. Paul pecked here and there in a slow and uneven pattern as he ran his fingers over the soft skin.
There was nothing Jack could do to stop Paul and even if he wasn’t handcuffed, Paul was right. He didn’t want to admit it, and he hated himself for showing a sign of weakness, but he still felt things for Paul. They had been friends since forever through the thick and thin. How was Jack supposed to ignore all that in this moment? Not even the death of Will could make him hate Paul more than he hated himself right now.
One of Paul’s hands ran down further into Jack’s shirt, stopping only to toy with the nipple his fingertips had grazed on the way. Jack squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip to refrain from making the noises he so desperately wanted to. Paul hummed low in his throat, pausing to look at the expression on Jack’s face. He quickly upped the ante by sinking his teeth into a soft patch of flesh on side of Jack’s neck, sucking tenderly at the pulse there until Paul chewed his skin raw.
“Paul--” Jack gasped out on a sharp breath when the older man sucked particularly hard.
Paul released Jack’s neck from his teeth and hauled Jack out of his chair by his jacket, using little force when the man became slack in his grasp. Jack struggled to his feet, scrambling slightly when he accidentally kicked his chair out of the way, letting Paul man handle him to a standing position. Paul left Jack standing there as he took a moment to push the chair further out of the way.
The older man scanned Jack from head to toe, noticing the way Jack’s wrists flexed against the handcuffs. Paul had half a mind to free him from the cuffs, but he couldn’t trust Jack, not like he had before anyway. He still needed some form of control over what he planned to do with Jack. Without warning, Paul stepped towards, placing a hand in the middle of Jack’s back and pushing him forward until he was flat against the table.
The wind was knocked out of Jack as he fell face first into into the cold surface. He turned his head off to one side so his nose wasn’t being squished uncomfortably. He tried to look at Paul over his shoulder, straining his eyes in the process, but it was no use. Paul bent over him and pressed in close so that the length of his body was perfectly aligned with Jack’s. His chest was against Jack’s back and his hips pressing firmly into the young man’s rear end, nudging Jack further up the table when he thrusted slightly.
He didn’t like this. Not only were his hands handcuffed, but now they were trapped between his and Paul’s body, fidgeting uselessly as he felt the older man’s breath fanning over the wet patch on his neck where Paul had gnawed on him like a chew toy. Paul smiled to himself, admiring the red teeth marks etched in Jack’s flushed skin. Paul rested his hands on Jack’s hips, moving them slowly over towards the front of his jeans.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jack demanded on a shaky breath, eyes going wide and breathing shallowly as he felt the older man’s fingertips flirt with the button on his jeans.
“I’m saving you,” Paul whispered hotly into Jack’s ear, kissing the red patch of skin on his neck.
Paul started to undo Jack’s jeans, unhinging the button from its slit and pulling down the tab of the zipper tantalizingly slow. Paul kissed along the nape of Jack’s neck as he gently shimmied the man out of his pants, stopping just before his knees. He didn’t need Jack completely naked for what he had in mind, but if given the right intimate setting Paul would’ve taken his time with Jack, disrobing him slowly as if he was something to be cherished inch by inch. But Paul didn’t have any more time to for niceties.
Jack felt Paul pull back, standing over him and burning holes through him with how hard he was staring, and shivered when Paul ran his hands back around to grope Jack’s butt. Paul squeezed Jack’s underwear clad ass and let his thumbs idly rub circles near the cleft, parting his cheeks just a little bit. Jack tensed when Paul started to pull his underwear down to expose him further.
For a moment, Paul’s touch escaped him and Jack was left bent over the table, furiously trying to see what Paul was doing. It only became apparent when he heard a faint shuffling behind him and a puff of hot breath fanning over his exposed ass. Jack flinched a little with surprise when Paul brought his hands back up to part his cheeks and reveal Jack’s opening.
Paul leaned forward to bury his face between Jack’s cheeks and licked slowly over the young man’s hole, causing him to jump from the sudden and awkward feeling it left behind. No sound escaped Jack, not even a protest, so Paul went in to do it again and again, until Jack finally let out a soft moan. Ashamed to admit it, but Jack was enjoying what Paul was doing to him. What fucked Jack up even more was picturing the scene unraveling before him from an outsider’s point of view.
He could picture Paul, eyes closed and panting, as he lapped at the sensitive skin between his cheeks, sucking and nipping occasionally at his thighs. The tips of Jack’s ears burned with embarrassment and arousal and his face flushed when he realized just how much he was getting turned on by all of this attention. That’s when Paul pulled away slightly to replace his tongue with a finger.
“I never thought you could taste so good, Jack,” Paul panted against the moist skin around Jack’s entrance, chuckling breathlessly.
Jack shuddered, biting his lip to keep himself from making any embarrassing noises that Paul might exploit. More than he already has. Paul’s finger slid in with a little bit of ease, but Jack had tensed up as well making it a tight fit. Paul planted kisses to each of his cheeks and stroked tenderly at Jack’s thigh with his extra hand as if to calm him as he started to slowly thrust his finger in and out. Jack hated it because he loved it. He’s supposed to hate Paul with every fiber of his being right now, but he can’t deny how good this felt. Paul was still the bad guy. Jack couldn’t let his old friend manipulate him.
“Is this how you interrogate all your prisoners?” Jack inquired, pulling at his handcuffs as he feigned escape. “By raping them?”
Paul chuckled softly, his breath ghosting over Jack’s exposed flesh, and rose to his feet while keeping his finger inside of Jack.
“I didn’t hear you say stop,” Paul pointed out, using a soft tone as he added a second finger inside of Jack.
“Would you have listened?” Jack nearly groaned, trying to ignore how gently Paul’s fingers were working to loosen him up.
“Yes, I would,” Paul answered honestly, getting silence from Jack as the other man became at a loss for words. “I may be willing to do whatever it takes to ensure the Lifeboat Protocol goes according to plan, but I would never take something so intimate from you by force.”
“Says the guy who murdered my brother and has me handcuffed against my will,” Jack huffed indignantly, laughing sourly at the way Paul twisted his fingers inside him.
“And yet you still don’t tell me to stop. Even as I fuck you with my fingers,” Paul retorted, bearing some truth. “Or is it, that you just want more reasons to spite me? To paint me as the villain in all this? I'm trying to help them, Jack. I'm trying to save you from yourself.”
“I think you’ve lost your fucking mind,” Jack groaned out as Paul added another finger alongside the other two, stretching him even more. “Oh, fuck!”
Paul smirked, seemingly pleased with himself as he was able to undo Jack by his hand alone, relishing the way Jack involuntarily pushed back against the three fingers buried deep inside his passage. He watched as Jack pulled against his handcuffs, not because he wanted to escape, but because he didn’t know what to do with the rest of his body. Jack twitched and shook as he was taken apart by Paul’s fingers, actively pushing back against them on his own volition by this point.
"Look at you, Jack. You don’t even know what you want anymore,” Paul continued, placing a hand in the middle of Jack’s back to steady himself as he thrusted three fingers in and out of Jack. “First you want revenge for Will’s death, then you want to save the world, and now, here you are fucking yourself on my fingers because you have a thing for older men. How can the fate of the world be chosen by someone like you?”
“I’m not crazy,” Jack tried to protest, moaning when Paul curls his fingers a little.
“You’re about to let me fuck you. I’d say you’re already there,” Paul stated frankly.
He pulls his fingers out of Jack’s ass and started to undo his dress pants as Jack laid there handcuffed, but not completely helpless. He could say no and stop, but Paul has yet to hear such words uttered from Jack’s lust filled voice. Paul meant too, he would stop at Jack’s say so. He wasn’t the monster Jack tried to make him out to be. He was trying to save the world too, after all, but Jack was blinded by revenge and personal feelings.
Paul pulled himself out of his pants, ready to go, and stroked his cock a few times as he rubbed spit slick fingers against Jack’s hole.
“Last chance, Jack,” Paul warned, playing with Jack’s hole a little with the tip of a finger. “Tell me to stop.”
“Please…” Jack whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.
He felt Paul retreat a slightly when he uttered the plea and he hated it. He hated that Paul was being true to his word. He’d rather this be rape, if he were being completely honest, because then he could hate Paul, but it isn’t and he doesn’t.
“Please, what?” Paul inquired, still stroking his cock in a lazy manner.
“Please don’t stop,” Jack begged, letting the last scrap of his pride wither away in a fog of shame, desire, and disgust.
“You know what that means, right?” Paul reminded, giving Jack one more try before letting his decision be set it stone.
“It means I want you to fuck me already,” Jack panted, whining because he couldn't stand the thought of waiting any longer.
“I won’t lie to you, Jack. I’ve waited years to hear you say that,” Paul revealed before he lined up the head of his cock to Jack’s entrance.
Paul pushed in without further preamble, engulfing himself in tight, willing heat and it felt better than he could ever imagine. Jack winced and let out a strangled sound that would be associated with suffering if Paul entering him hadn’t felt so damn good. It hurt, a lot in fact, but Jack was too overcome by his shame and arousal to let it control the overall pleasure he got from it.
Once Paul began to move, Jack knew he had finally gone over the edge without once questioning his morality in all of this. He didn’t care anymore. Paul’s cock felt good inside of him, there was no point in denying it any longer, so Jack just let himself enjoy this for what it was. A desperate grasp at some sort of connection before it all came tumbling to an end. Before one of them died, or before time as they knew it would tear them and the world apart atom by atom.
Paul grabbed at the chain linking the handcuffs together for better leverage as he drove himself deeper into Jack, moaning unabashed as how perfectly Jack fit around him. Jack let out a strained groan when he felt Paul pull back on them slightly, but loved the ache it left in his shoulders as he was fucked across the table. Paul snapped his hips, the motion of it making Jack jerk forward each time, hoping to draw more sounds out of the young man. He loved hearing Jack come apart underneath him.
“This doesn’t have to end,” Paul panted in short bursts, thrusting his hips faster. He let his other hand grip idly at one of Jack’s cheeks. “It could be just like this, always. You can stop trying to fight me and I’ll take you away from all of this, Jack. Just you and me. Us against the world.”
“Paul, please…” Jack moaned, squeezing his eyes shut to fight away the tears.
“Let me save you,” Paul gasped, cock throbbing incessantly when Jack clenched tighter around him.
He loved Paul as a friend, and even now as he devolved faster into his sickness, but he was bat shit crazy if he actually believed Jack would say yes. He wished he could have this until the end of time, and he wanted to save the universe, but if the last fifteen hours had taught Jack anything, it was that he couldn’t have both. The price of fixing the fracture didn’t come without sacrifice. And still, here he was getting his brains fucked by Paul Serene, a man he once called his friend.
Jack’s hard on rubbed against the edge of the table at a weird angle, not entirely uncomfortable, but enough to give him some form of friction. That coupled with Paul’s thrusts delving deeper and harder inside of him was enough to bring him closer and closer to the brink. Paul felt so raw and so close to him that Jack could feel every pulse and throb of the older man’s cock and it washed over him like a fine wine, only getting better as they both got closer to the inevitable end.
The feeling in Jack’s arms was nearly nonexistent from having them handcuffed behind him and his legs started to shake from the strain and constriction of keeping himself upright as Paul fucked into him with feverish thrusts. He wouldn’t have to worry about that for much longer, however, since the older man was so close already. Jack knew this because he, too, was on the brink of letting go. It was all a matter of time.
Paul’s hips stuttered slightly, his thrusts becoming uneven and jagged, as his orgasm reached its zenith within moments. Paul quickly brought his hand around and wrapped it over the length of Jack’s cock, stroking fervently to bring the young man that much quicker to completion right alongside him. Jack whimpered, sounding almost pained with how good it felt, moaning Paul’s name as his thrusts became amplified by the hand jerking him roughly.
Jack tensed up significantly and came with a shout when Paul’s cock had finally rubbed his prostate raw enough to coax a reaction out of him. He came against the table, with the rest of it either ending up on the ground beneath him or dribbling over Paul’s knuckles as he stroked him through the aftershocks. Jack winced when Paul continued to stroke and squeeze his cock even after he had become sensitive, but he relished the way it tortured him, especially when he felt Paul coming inside him.
Paul groaned snapping his hips a few more times until his cock was jerking inside Jack, emptying his release deep within the tight channel. The older man threw his head back, moaning his completion to the ceiling as his body shook slightly from the impact of orgasm. He gripped the handcuffs a little tighter than he meant to, but it didn’t matter since Jack couldn’t feel much of anything in his arms anymore. It was just about the greatest thing both of them had ever felt and then the reality of the situation came cascading down around them.
The older man pulled out of Jack, stepping back a little to admire his handiwork as he put himself away. The ring of muscle leading into Jack’s body was red and irritated and glistening from the come still trapped within Jack. Paul wasn’t sure if Jack was intentionally holding it in or if he was still that tight even after getting fucked. Paul smirked, entertaining that little quirk for a brief moment before deciding it was time to help make Jack at least remotely presentable.
Jack, on the other hand, was panting against the surface of the table, making it fog over and re-fog with each breath. His legs were shaking now as he came down from his adrenaline high and he felt as if he would collapse right then and there if Paul hadn’t come up behind him. Paul helped to pull Jack upright, bringing his underwear and pants back over his exposed midriff to cover him up. Paul pressed in close to Jack, letting himself indulge in the young man’s presence one last time by sniffing and nuzzling the side of his head.
Paul dragged the chair back over towards the table and promptly pushed Jack back down into it, an action which Jack was thankful for since his knees and arms were on fire right now. Paul walked around the other side to retrieve his suit jacket and smooth out his sweat damp hair. Jack looked over at Paul for the first time in what felt like a decade and, damn, did the man look like an absolute hot mess. Jack was going to miss that when all of this was over.
Jack felt almost inclined to abandon his plan and join Paul, but he couldn't give up with how far he had come. He hadn’t really lost yet, after all. Paul still didn't know where Will’s machine was and, even though his talk was big, Jack doubted he would be able find it in time to stop Jack from his own objective. Jack still had time. He could fix the fracture. He could save Will. Even though this was the obvious choice, for the greater good, it still hurt like hell.
“This doesn’t change anything,” Jack said after a moment, squirming in his seat.
“I know,” Paul replied with a clipped bitterness to his voice.
Paul looked, admittedly, disappointed when Jack told him this, but not entirely surprised. Paul had been expecting it, but he still held out hope that Jack would eventually come around. Jack watched as Paul hung his head down and turned towards the door, taking this as his cue to leave. Before Paul left, he turned back to Jack one more time, pausing in the doorway to give him an almost pained smile.
“When you’re ready to change your mind, I’ll be here.”