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“Do you want me to order you to, Judd?” Artie’s voice cuts through the small space between them, like a knife.

Judd remains paralyzed, staring up at Artie from where he sits on the bed. It’s rare he initiates. Rare, but not impossible. When Artie wants to make sure Judd will do his bidding, whether it be crime or an occasional whim, he knows perfectly well what keeps Judd’s blood pumping.

Anticipation, is what works best with this game. Judd won’t assume he’ll get what he wants, and he isn’t about to ask Artie his intentions for fear of cutting short the desired path they’re already headed towards.

Artie’s eyes flicker towards Judd’s groin, where Judd is certain the tight fabric stretching around his hips gives away his arousal. His eyes are still frozen on Artie’s face, and he’s been aroused for minutes now, just waiting for Artie to figure out what he needs.

Artie almost looks disappointed; he’s not, Judd has seen this expression before. He loses a little bit of his gall when a situation goes exactly according to what he expects.

Surprising himself, Judd moves first, and reaches out a hand, presses his fingers into the soft place above Artie’s hipbone. When he drags Artie a few inches forward, he can almost feel the softness of his skin despite the layers of clothing.

Artie merely stares down at him with his dark eyes, lips not exposing his inner thoughts. Judd works his fingers around his belt, and then the button, and it only seems to register for Artie what he’s doing when the zipper comes down and Judd begins feeling around for his target.

Artie’s hand flies down and grips Judd’s wrist. Judd looks up only once. He’s never done this before; they’ve only ever done it one way. Artie doesn’t stop him, though Judd’s wrist is still caught in his grasp. With his free hand, Judd pulls out Artie’s cock, resolving to look back down at the hard flesh in his hand. Strange. Artie’s rarely ever hard when they first start.

Probably all that talk of what to do with Ruth when he takes her birding is what got him worked up. Him and his sick fantasies, as if Judd’s one to talk.

“Juddsy, it’s not like it’s a new species of bird. You’ve seen cocks before.” Artie’s voice is startling after the prolonged period of silence. Judd realizes he’s been sitting staring at the cock in his hand for too long without action, merely rubbing a thumb up and down the lower part of it curiously as his brain kept cooking up more thoughts.

And leave it to Artie to make a situation uncomfortable.

“Only yours, Artie,” Judd says, and in lieu of licking his palm, he lowers his mouth down around his cock once or twice, slicking it up before taking it in his hand and stroking him slow, twisting at the head. It’s the way Judd likes it, he’s sure Artie will approve.

“You’ve never done that to it before,” Artie replies. He tries to hide the jumps in his voice by speaking low. His hands are resting on Judd’s shoulders, grip faint but present. Judd’s feeling generous today. Artie would never voice a desire for personal attention during sex, his pride is too big, and Judd usually uses that to his advantage.

Judd moves his hands to the bottom of the shaft, marveling at how he’s harder than seconds before, and takes the tip of his cock between his lips sucking, and bobbing slightly. He closes his eyes so he can bare it without Artie’s gaze burning a hole into him.

One of Artie’s hands has found its way into Judd’s hair. Pulling and tugging.

Judd winces. He’d spent a good half hour combing his hair into a sublime presentation.

“Oh, Juddsy,” Artie crows. “I’m imagining you taking Ruth to the most secluded area of the park, pinning her up to some tree. How she’ll taste the bark when your hand goes beneath her skirt. The way she’ll scream as if anyone gave a care in the world that—”

Artie chokes on his words when Judd bobs down, nearly taking him in full. Mostly to try and shut him up. This certainly isn’t turning Judd on, talk of women, and of mid-day assault.

“— t-that she’s being conquered by you,” Artie finishes. Judd has pulled off of him and he’s standing. It’s the first time Artie looks half desperate. Half .

“On the bed, trousers off.” Judd is loosening the tie from around his own neck. Artie stares at him, a venomous toothy grin forming.

“If it will assuage you, Judd.” Artie knows damn well it’s the only thing that will. They’d discovered this a long time ago, have been going through with the same routine for ages. Usually though, Artie’s cheeks don’t have a pinkish tint to them, and his cock isn’t already leaking before Judd can even get close to being where he needs to be.

Artie’s pants are off, and his suit jacket, but he keeps his button up shirt on, unbuttoned. The bowtie hangs loose around his neck. Judd exitricates the small blue glass bottle of oil he keeps on his bedside before crawling over Artie’s body.

“On your front,” Judd reminds. Artie makes an incoherent humming sound, but does as he’s told, turning onto his stomach. Even now after all this time, it still makes Judd’s pulse pound in his ears when Artie takes a command from him. With little Ruth, he’d need to use force, but with Artie everything is handed to him on a silver platter. No conditions other than perpetual loyalty. Barely any price to pay for being able to have Arthur Strauss, the most popular student in school, under his hands. What his dear friends would think of that .

Judd works him open quickly; he’s impatient, and Artie never voices a protest. Judd’s pants are only halfway down his hips when he presses his hard cock against Artie’s hole, entering him with mild ease. Artie drowns a strangled noise into the pillow he’s embracing holding onto so tightly Judd fears it will burst into feathers.

Being inside Artie, a part of him, knowing that every single movement Judd makes will cause Artie to feel him, all of him. It turns him on more than he ever thought possible. Every time, without fail. Once he’s fully seated, he doesn’t wait to move forward. Artie grunts once, and Judd falls into a rhythm.

They’re usually quiet, and slow. Judd likes to savor the moment, but tonight something is different. He’s not sure if it’s Artie’s desperation, rolling his cock down into the bed sheets all on his own, eyes shut tight, red lips drawn apart and gasping silently. Or, if it was the preceding conversation that led to all this. But, Judd is thrusting into Artie like he’s got something to prove. Vaguely, Judd can register that he’s making pitchy noises in the back of his throat blatantly divulging his own fervency.

“That’s it, Juddsy.” Artie stumbles over his words, and his eyes are still closed, but he’s reaching for Judd’s hand where it rests just above his head on the headrest. He grips it tight. “Imagine I’m her. Is this what you’re going to do? Is this how you’re going to give it to her? Are you thinking of her? I b-bet you’d like me to resist.”

Artie’s cruelty astounds Judd, and even while he’s buried deep inside him, he wants to strangle him. Judd’s forehead collapses against Artie’s spine, and his hips falter. At this, Artie laughs, grating, and unnatural.

“Don’t talk, you know I hate that.”

Don’t talk, you know I hate that ,” Artie slurs, mocking. He sure is acting like himself now, as if he’s unattached to what Judd’s doing to him, as if he’s finally gained the upper hand. Judd reaches around with one arm and starts to stroke him off in time with his thrusts.

Artie’s eyes close tighter, and Judd feels his orgasm in his chest first and then his thighs, when he sees Artie’s knuckles turn white to match the pillow case where he’s gripping at it in handfuls. He comes with a grunt. Artie follows immediately, rubbing his cock into the mattress, barely making a sound above a small gasp.

Judd moves off of him as quickly as he can when they both come down, tugging up his pants and fastening the buckle. The bird on the wall above his bed seems to be glaring down directly at him.

Artie is laying on his back again, and reaches for his teddy bear which has taken up the residence of Judd’s bedside drawer for the time being, disappointed to find the flask is empty.

“Put your clothes on and clean up your mess, I don’t need my brother finding you like this. He lets me hear it enough as it is.” Judd remakes his tie with ease, though his heart is still pounding in his chest. They haven’t done this in a while.

Artie hums. “Is my order clear, Juddsy?”

At first Judd isn’t sure what he’s referring too, but then it clicks and he feels his heart drop. “Yes, of course it is.”

Artie does what he’d been told then, gets up and reaches for his pants pooled together with his jacket on the floor. Where he kneels on the floor, he catches Judd’s gaze in his own. His obscene, white, grin returns.

“Good.”