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It’s a quiet evening at the house. Jack and Sadie are at the dining room table, softly chatting. Probably something about one of their books they’ve been reading together. Javier sits next to the fireplace, strumming his guitar and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. John sits on the couch across from him, Abigail leaning into his side. It’s domestic and comforting, however nontraditional it may be. John puts his arm around Abigail, letting her shift closer to rest her cheek on his chest as soft music fills the air. She nuzzles her nose into his neck, and he smiles.
“He’s awfully good, ain’t he,” Abigail whispers, quiet enough so that only John can hear. John glances over to where Javier plays. The musician’s eyes are shut, brows relaxed and expression soft. Like he’s lost in the music, at home playing for the others. John grunts in affirmation, hears Abigail smile.
“He’s got real talented hands,” Abigail continues. John looks down to where she’s laying, finds her staring back.
“Abigail,” he warns her, trying hard not to react to this change in tone. She raises her brows, the picture of innocence save for the twinkle in her eyes. She settles back in, and John resumes tracing his fingertips along her shoulder.
“Long fingers,” She comments. John’s hand stills on her arm. “Bet you’ve begged him to suck those clean. Right before they spread you open until you’re sobbin’, just askin’ to be stuffed.”
“Abigail,” John hushes her, a little louder this time. He crosses his legs, trying to hide just exactly what her words are doing to him. She presses a light kiss to his neck, and it burns like hot coals.
“Hey,” Javier’s voice calls from the other side of the room. John looks up, praying that his face isn’t as warm as it feels. “Get yourself some privacy, I ain’t here to set a mood.” Javier smirks, and it pulls at something deep inside of John.
Abigail sits up, patting John’s knee as she makes to stand. She heads down the hallway, towards John’s room. John glances Javier’s way, who says nothing. He turns his attention back to his guitar as John follows Abigail to his room.
Abigail grins into the kiss that John presses to her lips, hungrily, after he’s shut the door behind him.
“Gonna be the death of me, woman.” John grumbles as he cups her face with his hands. Abigail plays with the edges of his shirt.
“Nothin’ you can’t handle, Mr. Marston.” She chides. She presses forwards, pulling at his clothes with a sense of urgency. John tries to do the same, but she bats his hands away. After the second try, he relents, content to kiss her sloppy as she strips him. When she’s got him down to just his drawers, she pauses, breaking their kiss to palm him rough.
“Got you all riled up, didn’t he?” She’s a little breathless, and John could say the same, but she’s pressing down on his cock, and words are hard to come by. “On the bed, boy.” John grins, a flash of fang and eyes clouded with want. He goes willingly. When he sits on the edge, she tuts a disapproving sound. “On your stomach.” She corrects him. John gives her a quizzical look, but follows as told.
“What’s on your mind, Abby-girl?” He asks, even as he’s laying down, pillowing his chin with his hands. She hums in reply. He can’t see much, even when he turns so that his cheek’s resting on his hands. But he feels her weight settle down on the backs of his thighs. Her hands rake up his body, digging into his ass, smoothing up his shoulders. It takes him by complete surprise when she grabs at his wrists and wrenches them around behind him.
“Abigail!” John rasps, but a knee to his back keeps him stuck still. There’s fabric, something soft, wrapped around his wrists, tied tight. It takes her a stunningly short amount of time to get his arms tied around his back. He smirks, not ignoring how the feeling of being bound makes his body heat, his core twist. “Sadie got you learnin’ knots?” He asks.
“She’s shown me a few things.” Abigail replies. Her weight leaves him, but it’s when it doesn’t return does he look over.
Abigail's fixing her hair in the dresser mirror, ignoring him completely.
“Darlin’?” he asks, somewhat worried.
“Got reading lessons with Jack tonight.” Abigail informs him. “Gotta be punctual.” She glances his way from the corner of her eye.
“Abigail,” John warns her, realizing what she’s about to do.
“Have a nice night, John.” She smiles, soft and sweet, before she turns and leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.
***
The knots are tight. He tries but to no avail to get his arms loose. There’s nothing around the room to help him, nothing sharp to cut the ties. He finally flops back onto the mattress, face pressed into the sheets as he lets out a frustrated groan. He’s gonna kill her when he gets out of this state. She loves playing games with him, and it’s rare when she goes too far, but this might be it.
A low whistle breaks through his thoughts. He turns his head towards the doorway. Javier stands, frozen for a moment, taking him all in. When John grunts, Javier makes his way inside quickly, shutting the door behind him. He sets his guitar off to the side before taking a few steps closer.
“Don’t.” John warns him as Javier’s mouth crooks into a smile. He’s leering unapologetically, eyebrows raised and grinning like a kid that’s just been told a secret.
“Your wife,” Javier begins. “Must love me.”
Of course. This was all Abigail’s plan.
“How nice of her to give me a gift like this.” Javier reaches forwards, pinches John's chin with finger and thumb. “You better watch out, I think she’s courtin’ me.” John yanks himself out of Javier’s grasp, his face warming. Javier makes a soothing sound, petting John’s hair. John huffs in reply.
“Is there an occasion for this?” Javier continues. He lets his hand wander down the nape of John’s neck, his back, delicately across where his hands are tied. “Birthday? Wedding anniversary?”
“Javier,” John’s voice betrays him. He’s tired of the charade. Wants the reward that he hopes awaits him.
“Either way,” Javier ignores him. “A gift is a gift.” With that, he palms John’s ass, fingers delving in between as he grips the muscle through the thin cotton of John’s drawers. John grunts, the tail end of it thinning out to a whine. Javier presses a finger to his lips. “Gotta keep quiet,” he warns John, although the look in his eyes hints he won’t be doing anything to aid him in that respect. John purses his lips, propping his chin up on the bed.
“Untie me, you ass.” John snaps, the tone harsh but his voice low. Javier hasn’t stopped touching him, and with each grasp John feels himself reacting. He’s thankful he’s still on his stomach, and that Javier can’t see just how much these simple touches affect him. His body had calmed since Abigail left, but seems to warm right back up with Javier’s caress.
With a gentle pat to his ass, Javier steps away. John juggles between staying on his belly and seeing what the other man is up to, and decides to turn on his side. Javier is stripping out of his clothes, folding them onto a neat pile on the dresser. John watches as he unclips his pocket watch, letting the cord fall gently into his other palm. He unbuttons his vest with nimble fingers, slides his suspenders off his shoulders. Every action taken with care. Unhurried. Javier seems more focused on himself than John, and only looks up after he’s toed out of his boots, his pants hanging low on his hips.
“Little worked up, ain’t you John?” Javier comments. John glances down at himself, to where his cock strains against the fabric of his underpants. He shifts a bit, getting a shoulder under him, then rising to his knees.
“Not if you keep taking your damn time,” John shoots back. With his arms still bound he’s stuck just watching. Not that watching Javier strip isn’t enjoyable, but he wants to touch. To taste. And as it is, he’s restricted to Javier’s schedule.
Javier steps closer, into the space between where John’s knees splay out. He cups John’s cheek, almost fondly. John keeps an expression of frustration, of impatience, despite how he wants to press into the touch.
“If you’re so eager, I can pull you off right here,” Javier murmurs, and John can feel Javier’s other hand wrapping around his cock through the fabric. He can’t help but roll his hips gently with the touch. Javier smirks. “That what you want?” Javier’s thumb traces John’s lower lip, before pressing inside. John opens his mouth, eyes fixed on Javier’s.
The musician switches his grip, decides instead to push his ring and middle inside John’s mouth instead. He’s still stroking John, slow and easy. John closes his mouth around the digits and begins twirling his tongue around them, coating them in spit. He sucks when Javier presses slightly further, following the other man’s lead until Javier’s gently thrusting into John’s mouth. John lets out a short whine, feeling his face burn. He can’t meet Javier’s eyes, embarrassment burning in his gut like fine brandy. He shifts on his knees, movement stuttering when he involuntarily thrusts into Javier’s grip.
“You’re something else, you know that?” Javier comments. His hands still and John makes a sad noise in the back of his throat. He continues to suck, trying to spur Javier into action. Javier removes his hands, and John has to catch himself. He hadn’t realized how much he had been leaning into Javier. The other man bends down and kisses John sweetly, staying chaste despite John trying to deepen it.
Javier draws back, begins unfastening his trousers. John tries to catch his breath. His skin is burning, heart thundering. It’s driving him to madness, this act of winding him up and then leaving him.
Javier shucks the rest of his clothing. He takes a moment to touch himself, using the spit-slick hand to pump himself slowly.
“Javier, hurry up.” John can hear how wrecked his voice sounds, tries to sound threatening despite it. Javier smiles fondly.
“Lay down,” Javier’s suggestion comes out as a command. John flops back down on his stomach, hisses when the contact makes his cock throb. He shifts a bit, thrusting into the mattress weakly. He feels hands grab at his hips, pull them away from the friction of the bed.
“C’mon, this is torture.” John complains, struggling against Javier’s hold. Javier’s fingers dip below the waistband of John’s drawers, slowly pulls them down his thighs. There’s a bit of fumbling when John has to raise his knees, one at a time, to free his legs, but then he’s bare.
“I think you’re enjoying this, John.” Javier argues. Javier snakes a hand under John, spreads it across his chest, and pulls John up so that he’s sitting on his knees. John feels Javier settle in behind him on the bed, chest pressed against his back. John’s hands are trapped behind him. He wiggles his fingers a bit, feels the coarse hair that patterns just below Javier’s navel.
Javier kisses John’s shoulder softly. His hand drifts to the side, thumbing at a nipple until it hardens. John lets his head fall back on Javier’s shoulder, humming deep in his chest. Just happy he’s being touched again. He gasps softly when Javier’s other hand wraps around his cock and gives it a long, slow stroke.
“Already like his, hm?” Javier comments, thumbing against John’s slit, smearing precum around the head.
“You keep saying that,” John pauses as a shudder wracks his body. “But I’ve been waitin’, ngh, too long.”
“Alright,” Javier relents. He’s still playing with John’s chest, switching from one side to the other, dragging calloused fingertips across his skin. “Tell me what you want. This? Something else?” John’s tongue feels heavy and useless, thick and dry when he swallows. He’s at a loss for words. “Want me to guess?” Javier prompts. John gives a short nod.
Javier presses in close. John can feel his cock nestled between his ass and takes a quick breath.
“Wanna suck me off?” Javier whispers, close behind John’s ear. “Want my mouth on you?” He nips at John’s earlobe. “Want me to fuck you?” John’s hips stutter at that, and he can hear Javier grin. “You really are a gift, you know that? My gift.” Javier’s motions stall. “Say it.”
“I’m your,” John swallows dryly. “Your gift.” He has no time for embarrassment, even if the words make his stomach twist in knots. Javier exhales slowly, breath fanning across the back of John’s neck. He gives one last stroke before moving his hand to John’s hip. The other presses gently on John’s shoulder blades, until he’s back on the mattress.
Javier leaves, just for a moment, returning with something slick on the finger that begins circling John’s pucker. His other hand rests gently where John’s wrists are bound, tangling in his fingers in a fond way that tugs at John’s heart.
“Gonna make you feel good, cariño,” Javier soothes John. It’s not long before Javier’s adding another finger, now flexing them gently when he pulls. “You’re so tight.” John groans, sound muffled in the sheets. It’s not a comfortable position, like this. Without his arms he’s left with keeping his weight on his head, or on his shoulders, while his neck bends at an awkward angle. But there’s something about being stuck like this, unable to make it good for himself, relying on Javier to give him pleasure, that makes him throb. He’s lightheaded, only able to focus on Javier’s touch. John bites down on a sob when Javier hits that spot deep inside, presses his hips backwards. Javier is merciful in a way, repeating the motion and giving a pleased hum.
“You like that, John?” Javier asks. “Tell me how it feels.” John sucks on his teeth, building up the resolve to reply.
“Feels good, Javi,” John manages. “Feels so good.” He shifts so that his cheek is pressed against the mattress, so he can just barely see Javier out of the corner of his vision. Javier meets his eyes, adds another finger, and John moans.
“Shhhh,” Javier reminds him. “Don’t want your wife to hear.” John can’t help but laugh a bit at that. She was the one who got him into this damn state, after all. The thought is fleeting as Javier seems to pick up a rhythm. Slick sounds filling the air, the scent of sex flooding John’s senses. He starts thrusting back towards Javier, fighting against the other man’s grip on his hip holding him still. “Okay, I get it.” Javier relents, withdrawing his fingers. John shuts his eyes, focuses on the noises of Javier slicking himself up.
John lets out a moan, face buried into the mattress, when Javier enters him. Javier moves frustratingly slow, halting John’s thrust with an almost painful grip on his sides. John’s arms flex against the restraints to no avail.
“Please, Javier, you gotta move faster I ain’t gonna last-” John’s cut off when Javier thrusts forward, quickly burying his face in the covers to quiet his cry. Javier pulls out, seamlessly moving into another shallow thrust. His pace is slow but unrelenting, every time driving deeper and deeper. His knees nudge John’s legs wider, and when he threatens to fall to the mattress Javier locks and arm around his lower abdomen, keeping him in place while he fucks him.
John’s mouth is locked shut, needy sounds settling in his throat with each rock of Javier’s hips. His hair is a mess, sticking to his face, covering his eyes. He can’t do anything about it, held in place by Javier’s grip, pounding into him. He’s dizzy, bliss drunk.
Javier’s grip shifts up John’s chest and suddenly John is pulled up onto his knees, sinking down onto Javier’s lap. The position gets Javier in deeper than before, and Javier clamps a hand down on John’s mouth before he makes too loud a sound. Javier’s thrusts are deep and grinding, more shifting John around on his cock rather than pushing and pulling. John slumps against Jaiver’s body, but tenses up when Javier’s hand begins fisting his cock. A tempo with a purpose. John stutters a breath, coming out as a sob under Javier’s grip. He’s close, has been for far too long now.
His body stills in ecstasy as he comes, every nerve pulled tight and brimming with electricity. Javier gets the rest of his arm around John and pulls him close, still covering his mouth with his hand, and milks him until he’s dry. Until John is twisting in his grip. The motion brings out another sob from John, his prostate grinding against Javier’s cock still seated inside of him.
Javier lets him go, guides him back down to the bed, and starts up again. A rolling rhythm of his hips, more focused on speed rather than depth. He blankets John’s back, one hand on John’s bound wrists, the other fisted in the sheets by John’s head.
“You’re so good, John,” Javier sounds far away, lost in his own pleasure. “So good for me.” He bites at the back of John’s neck, presses kisses along his shoulders. John whines, clenching around Javier in time with his thrusts, and Javier bites down hard on John’s shoulder, coming in jagged thrusts. His motions lessen in speed but gain force, pounding home his last few pulses until he falls limp on John.
John can feel Javier’s heartbeat, chest pressed to back as he is. They stay like this until Javier’s pulse has returned to normal. With shaky limbs he sits up, pulls out gently, and begins to untie John’s wrists. After a few moments of fumbling, Javier reaches for his pants, grabs his knife, and cuts the ties off. The feeling of moving his stuck arms is almost orgasmic in itself. Javier rubs circles into John’s wrists, slightly turns him on his side. Javier’s quick to settle in behind him, wrapping his arm around John’s waist and holding him tight.
“Should clean up,” John mentions halfheartedly, after their bodies have begun to cool.
“We’ll take a bath.” Javier replies. John huffs a bit.
“Bathroom’s all the way down the hall,” he points out. Javier smirks.
“Wrap yourself in the sheets, princess,” Javier counters. “It’s late, no one will see.” John sighs, defeated, and Javier presses a kiss to the bite mark he had made earlier. “Join me before you make a mess.” He comments before sliding off the bed. Javier heads for the door.
“Hey,” John turns towards the man, catching his attention. “Love you.” Javier stops, quirks a smile.
“Love you too, idiota.” Javier replies. “Now get your ass outta bed.”