supra_et_ultra | (no subject)

"Can you do that?" Proko sits up, trying to remember if he has a rules-of-plebe-summer handbook somewhere. They usually give it to parents or sponsor families, but he has a copy. He knows Jiang gets weekend liberty once classes start.

"Don't get in trouble because of me."

"I'm coming over," Jiang says, because he is. Even if he has to find a way to bribe a marine. Even if he gets in trouble. He's not having this conversation over the phone. He needs to look Proko in the face for this.

It takes longer than he wants, but he manages it. An hour later, he's pounding on Proko's door.

Proko's at the door in a second, assuming that Jiang must have forgotten his key... Or had just been too mad to bring it. He backs up as soon as he opens the door; he doesn't really know what to expect, except that Jiang sounded pissed over the phone.

Almost as soon as he looked at him, Jiang felt the anger melt. He held onto it, the frustration and ache of betrayal. He needed that right now, just for a moment longer.

He stepped in, kicking the door shut behind him, before he grabbed the front of Proko's shirt and dragged him in, kissing him possessively.

That-- the kiss is not remotely what Proko has been expecting but as soon as it happens he sinks against Jiang, gripping the front of his uniform.

He would've had to get dressed just to leave the Yard. It's the first time Proko's seen him in a private space since Induction Day. He whimpers softly against Jiang's mouth.

Jiang pushes Proko's hands off, holds them down at his sides, and bullies him against the wall. They're barely in the door. He kisses him like he owns him, like he can kiss Proko out of him.

But that's hopeless. Jiang has known that for years, since before Proko orbited in so close to Kavinsky. Still--to find out this way that it was anything other than their eyes lingering?

Proko tries to whisper apologies every time he has enough air to talk, every time their mouths part just long enough to form words. He's pinned to the wall, breathless, and all he can feel and taste and smell and see is Jiang.

He's missed him so fucking much.

"Will," he breathes, tipping his head back. He feels dizzy with it.

"You? Are not talking right now."

Jiang keeps hold off Proko's wrist, and pulls him along, heading to Proko's room on autopilot. It's more put together now. It looks like someone lives there. Jiang doesn't think about Proko and Kav fucking in bed.

"Strip." He's adjusting himself inside his uniform pants, half hard from kissing. "And get on your knees."

Proko doesn't resist, nearly tripping up the stairs as Jiang hauls him along. He catches himself once they're in his room and he stares at Jiang for a second, nervous but--

But he trusts Jiang. He's trusted him with everything.

He wets his lips and pulls his shirt off. He hadn't put his binder on after his shower. It's easy to push his sweats off after that, and the shorts underneath it. Goosebumps appear and fade as he sinks to his his knees in front of Jiang.

Jiang opens his pants and pushes them down just enough to get his cock out. He strokes himself twice, then grabs Proko by the hair and hauls him in.

"It's not gonna suck itself," he says. There are other, more hurtful things he wants to say for a moment. He thinks them, and then lets them slide away.

He catches himself against Jiang's thighs to avoid losing his balance too badly. Proko doesn't hesitate, moving his head so he can sink his mouth down no Jiang's cock. A little moan escapes him. Almost two months. He hasn't been able to touch Jiang in almost two months.

Proko sinks into it, moving his head to take Jiang as far down as he can. He chokes a little but perseveres before he bobs back, tries to build a rhythm. He tries to do everything he knows Jiang likes.

Jiang lets him go however he'd like for a moment, and then decides it's not what he wants. He grabs Proko's head, one hand under his chin and the other on the back of his head, and he starts to fuck him. It's a rough, filthy thing. He doesn't really care if Proko gags, except for the mess it might make on his uniform.

A muffled, almost distressed noise escapes Proko's throat before it's full of Jiang's cock. All he can do is relax his throat as much as he can and hold on.

It feels obscene to be as into it as he is.

Jiang considers slowing down when he hears that noise. He looks up at the ceiling and fucks into Proko's mouth, focusing on the feel of it, the filthy want and possessive need eating at him.

He goes only for a few minutes, and then he pulls back. His cock slaps against Proko's lips.

"Get on the bed. Hands and knees."

He pants for breath when Jiang finally lets up and pulls out; he would've gone to his hands and knees right there if Jiang hadn't been standing so close. He manages a nod, not sure he can talk but he's not supposed to anyway, right?

Proko licks Jiang's cock one more time before he turns to get up onto the bed, knees spread and palms to the mattress. He's almost embarrassed that he's wet... he's really fucking missed Jiang.

Jiang slides in behind him and starts to push him around, until he's almost flat against the bed, hips low but still up, chest pressed to the mattress. He teases his cock against Proko's cunt once, twice--and then just slides in.

He swears under his breath, grinding in deep.

Prokopenko moves bonelessly as Jiang drags him, pushes him, until he's ass up and shoulders down. His eyes drift closed when he feels Jiang's cock rubbing against him, and the soft little moan that had been building changed into something louder, more ragged, when Jiang just pushes into him.

"Oh fuck."

He's used toys on his show since the last time Kav was there but it's not the same. Proko pushes back like Jiang can get any deeper.

Jiang slaps Proko's ass and starts to move. It's easy, with how wet Proko is. It's easy to build up speed and force, to fuck into Proko and build back that memory of why they started screwing around in the first place.

Because he thought he couldn't get with Kavinsky, a mean part of him snarls in the back of his head. Jiang tries to ignore it. He braces a hand on Proko's shoulder and fucks into him harder.

He can't be quiet. He fucking can't. Jiang's weight leans into his shoulder and all he can do is fucking take it. He can feel the mess he is; he can hear it. Before they're done he knows his thighs are going to be slick with his need.

And it feels so fucking good.

Proko tries to ride his hips back to meet him, he lets his knees slide apart like he can open up more. "Will," he moans his name like a fucking prayer; he mewls it.

Edited 2017-06-30 07:02 (UTC)

Jiang swears, quickly losing his English to Chinese. He huffs in a couple breaths, leans up and slaps Proko's ass again. His hips barely falter. He's gotten good with his endurance, though he's pretty sure he has the frustration of the situation to thank for his current staying power.

"Missed you," he slurs, voice a little raw after having his throat fucked. "Fuck you feel so fucking good-- ah."

His hips jump the next time Jiang smacks his ass. Proko tries to brace against the bed to keep from sliding, though the idea of Jiang cramming him up against the headboard isn't an unsavory one. He's aching, throbbing. He wants to beg to come, but he tries to hold it back - he doesn't deserve to ask for it.

"I bet I do," Jiang growled. They were scooting up, slowly, so that Jiang had to actually get up on the bed now. It changed the angle, the force, of his thrusts. He dragged Proko's hips up a little bit higher, gripping his hips and slamming them back as he rocked forward.

He leaned down over him, breathing raggedly against Proko's shoulder. "None of your toys are good enough, are they, slut?"

"No," he moans. Even Jiang's breath against his shoulder is turning him on. "God-- none of them feel like you. Nothing feels like you."

One hand stretches out, braced against the bed, while the other moves like he wants to push it under himself. He doesn't, but now that Jiang's yanked his hips higher he can't even hope for friction from the bed and he feels like's dying. "Please," he gasps out. "Please, please--"

"What, you wanna come?" Jiang mumbles, voice gently mocking. "You think you get to come? With my cock in you? Nah, baby. You don't get to come until I make you come."

Jiang's own hips were starting to stutter though. He slapped Proko's ass, then again, again.

His hand stops, fingers curling tight in the blanket beneath him to resist the temptation. Every slap stings and between every hit his ass bounces off of Jiang's hips, making it impossible to ignore. He feels so fucking good and he's almost worried he could come just like this. He tries o be careful but focusing is becoming impossible.

"Wanna feel you," he moans.