“Jack, on your knees.” Bitty says as soon as Jack walks in the door, looking exhausted and put out and like he’s about two seconds from retreating into himself completely. Bitty can’t have that. “Go to the bedroom and wait.”
He doesn’t ask for permission to start this, but Jack lets out a deep sigh and goes, which is all the consent he usually gives when he gets like this. Bitty presses the cutter into the biscuit dough and frowns to himself slightly.
They lost tonight, against the Jets. It was close, seemed like they were going to go into OT until Byfuglien snuck one in with four seconds left in the period. It was nobody’s fault, but Bitty knows that Jack is blaming himself.
He carefully transfers the biscuits to the pan and slides it into the oven. 12 minutes. The first time he did this to Jack, he felt bad about making him wait. Usually when he took control, He was always right there for Jack the entire time.
But that first time, after a game much like tonight, Bitty learned. Sometimes Jack needs some time to be alone, but still feel like the control has been taken out of his hands. Bitty can work with that.
Bitty’s movements aren’t rushed as he takes the pan out of the oven and transfers the biscuits to a cooling rack. He cuts one in half and spreads strawberry jam and butter onto it. The butter melts nearly instantly, the biscuit still hot from the oven. Bitty presses the halves together and makes his way back to the bedroom.
Jack is kneeling in only his boxers, hands on the carpet in front of him, as though bracing himself from falling forward, head bowed. Bitty brushes his fingers against Jack’s neck and squats in front of him. “Here, eat.”
Jack looks for a moment like he’s about to protest, mouth opening slightly and eyebrows furrowing. Bitty tightens his grip on the side of Jack’s neck, just a slight pressure to remind Jack of the arrangement they have for nights like this. Jack isn’t in charge.
There is no hesitation or resistance from Jack this time. He takes the biscuit and eats it quickly, eyes slipping shut on the first bite. He probably hasn’t eaten since after the second period, and even then it was likely a handful of almonds and half a protein shake. Jack needs to indulge.
Bitty runs a hand through Jack’s hair. “You’re so good, Baby.”
Jack smiles softly, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. He’s allowed to talk on nights like this, but Bitty knows that he likely won’t, at least not in the beginning without prompting.
“Hands behind your back, wrists crossed,” Bitty instructs as he stands again, moving to their dresser. He selects a soft green tie, one that Jack hardly ever wears, and feels the fabric slide between his fingers. There’s a reason that this tie is hardly ever worn in public.
Bitty kneels behind Jack and ties his wrists. It’s loose enough that Jack could slip out if he needed or wanted to, but tight enough to make him feel limited nonetheless. Bitty kisses the side of his neck. “So good.”
Jack shakes his head slightly and his shoulders tense. Bitty kisses him again. “Are you disagreeing with me?”
“Wasn’t good enough,” Jack mumbles.
Bitty stands again and runs his hand through Jack’s hair, grabbing slightly to tilt Jack’s head up so that he would be looking at him if his eyes weren’t closed. “Jack, baby, I need you to look at me.”
Blue eyes flutter open, glistening with the hint of tears. “I wasn’t good enough. We lost.”
“Yeah, you did,” Bitty says with a thoughtful nod. “But you had two assists and a goal. I wouldn’t call that being not good enough. Unless you think I’m wrong?”
Jack shakes his head but doesn’t say anything more. His eyes are glazed over and Bitty can tell that he’s pretty far gone. Bitty hooks an arm beneath Jack’s armpit and lifts him to standing. He slips off Jack’s boxer briefs. “Get on the bed, on your stomach. Don’t move.”
Jack does as he’s told, because of course he does. He’s so good for Bitty; so good that it sometimes takes Bitty’s breath away.
Jack is on his stomach, head facing left, hands resting together on his back, the ends of the emerald tie draped across his back. Bitty swings his leg over Jack’s back so that he’s straddling him, not really resting his weight on Jack, but holding himself up above him. He leans forward and kisses Jack between his shoulder blades. “So beautiful.” He presses more kisses across Jack’s shoudlers, pausing occasionally to suck a bruise into the soft skin.
Bitty sits up and runs his fingers down Jack’s back, hardly touching him. “You played so well, Baby. Was it for me?”
Jack squirms, and Bitty digs his nails into his side slightly, just enough to sting but not really hurt Jack. “You know what I said. Don’t move. Was it for me, Jack?”
“Yes,” Jack gasps as Bitty releases his grip. “It’s always for you.”
Bitty feels himself grow in his own shorts, still completely clothed in contrast to Jack’s nakedness and vulnerability. He rocks against Jack’s ass lightly. “What do you want, Baby? You were so good tonight, what do you want?”
“Want you in my mouth,” Jack says certainly.
“On your knees.?”
Jack shakes his head slightly, and Bitty lets the movement go. There’s a slight blush on the half of Jack’s face that he can see. “Want you to…want you to ride my face.”
Bitty gasps sharply at that, but slips off of Jack’s back. He rolls him over with a slight push to his shoulder. Bitty undresses slowly, folding his clothes and placing them on the chair near the bed. He can feel Jack’s eyes on him. Hungry.
He straddles Jack’s shoulders and guides his cock into his waiting mouth, grasping handfuls of black hair. “So beautiful, so good, so perfect for me, Baby.”
Jack hums and relaxes, lets Bitty rock into his mouth, the tight wet heat of it almost too much for the younger man. He swirls his tongue when he can but Bitty is in control of this, and hardly gives him any space to use any real technique at all.
Still, it’s good. It’s so good and Bitty doesn’t try to control himself as he rocks harder, faster into Jack’s mouth. He’s close-painfully so-when he gets an idea and pulls away with more willpower than he thought he possessed. “Wait, Jack,” he says, hating how breathless he sounds. He’s supposed to be in control here.
Jack, for his part, seems incapable of words, simply looking up at Bitty with wide eyes that are more pupil than blue at this point. His mouth is still hanging open slightly, lips swollen and spit-sheened. Bitty grips tighter on his hair.
“I’m going to ride you now. Do you want to keep your hands behind you or above your head?”
Jack groans, because he clearly gets what Bitty is saying here. You’re not allowed to touch.
“Above my head?”
Bitty makes quick work of changing Jack’s position, and a few moments more raking his eyes over Jack’s form. He bites his lip and smirks when Jack squirms.
Bitty turns so that his ass is facing Jack as he lubes his fingers up and works himself open, giving Jack a view of everything that he’s doing. Jack whimpers and Bitty can hear the way his wrists pull at the headboard. “Don’t move,” he warns.
Bitty pulls his three fingers out of his hole, feels himself clench around nothing, and presents to Jack. “How do I look,Baby? Think I’m ready for you?”
Jack whimpers again. “Please, Eric.”
Bitty turns so that he’s facing Jack again and holds himself over Jack, his left hand holding the base of Jack’s cock to position it as he slips down slowly, adjusting to the stretch and slight burn of it.
He bottoms out and sits for a few seconds on Jack’s lap, swiveling his hips slightly. “You feel so good, Baby. Always so good for me.”
Jack is trying so hard to stay still, muscles tense all over as he tries to be good for Bitty; tries to follow instructions to the tee. Bitty leans forward and kisses him deeply, rocking his hips as he does so. Jack arches up into the kiss and sucks Bitty’s tongue into his mouth desperately.
“Come on, Baby. You’re close, I can feel it.” Bitty whispers against his mouth, “Let me hear you.”
Jack lets loose at that, moaning loudly and without restraint as he snaps his hips up into Bitty, who meets him on every thrust. From his mouth comes a litany of “Bitty, Bitty, Bitty.”
Bitty has to hold off from coming himself before Jack does, wants to remain in control until this is over the way Jack needs. It doesn’t take long, though, before Jack is snapping his hips up and staying there as Bitty feels himself filled with the warmth of his come.
Bitty slips off and scoots up his chest slightly, aiming his cock at Jack’s face as he jerks himself desperately, free hand bracing himself against the headboard next to Jack’s own. He shoots across Jack’s chest and face, marking him in a way that never fails to make Bitty feel something particularly animal.
They breathe together, coming down from their orgasms. Bitty can see Jack’s eyes clarifying, and reaches up to untie his wrists, massaging them to ensure that regular bloodflow is happening. Jack flexes his fingers and smiles dopily at Bitty.
“I’m going to go get a washcloth,” Bitty says definitely as he climbs off of Jack and goes to the ensuite. When he comes back, Jack is still laying boneless on the bed, face a dopey far off expression. Bitty wipes them both down thoroughly, pressing kisses to Jack’s now clean chest. “You were so good, Jack.”
Jack sighs and smiles. “Thanks, Bits.”
“Go to sleep, Baby.” Bitty lays down in bed to him, pulls the comforter over them, and traces slow circles over his skin. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Bits.”