supra_et_ultra | (no subject)

(no subject)

He gets privileges so rarely, and when he does they're mostly supervised, so it isn't him who finds the video, it's one of the other guys. He walks into his dorm, exhausted, to a clutch of other boys, and one blurts out, "Hey, Jiang. Ain't this your bitch?"

It took him a second to figure out what he was looking at.

Next weekend, he gets a phone call. He's been sitting on it, waiting for the time, but he's got free time, and his phone, and Proko's number pulled up. He dials it, hand on the back of his neck, thinking about what to say and how to say it.

"Pick up," he mumbles to the ringer. "Pick up, pick up..."

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"Wanna be your mess," he mumbles, feeling fucking delirious as Jiang works him open. He knows he'll get his cock eventually but his patience disappeared when Jiang walked through the door.

He's half rolled onto his side, hips pinned. Jiang's cover is still in place, hiding his face, blocking his view; Proko's been diligent in making sure it won't fall off until Jiang moves i himself. He tries to ride Jiang's fingers with short, ineffective movements.

Jiang pulls his fingers back abruptly. He slaps Proko's hip.

"Roll back over on your face. Keep the cover on." He leans back and strokes himself a couple times, spitting into his hand so he can slick his cock up.

The smack gets a quiet moan. Proko rolls over, getting his knees under him so his ass is in the air. He moves the cover so it's perched on his head rather than covering his face - he doesn't want to fuck it up by pushing it against the bed or something. He buries his face against his forearms, resisting hard the urge to look back at Jiang. He feels exposed and slick, everywhere. Now that he's moved he swears he can feel Jiang's come on his thighs.

Jiang rubs against Proko for a minute, teasing him again. Proko looks good like this, almost too good. Now, almost all of the frustration has leaked out of him. All that's left is possessive desire, the need to remind Proko who he's with.

Kavinsky has always been a part of that, Jiang supposes. But he wants Proko to remember that he's here.

He presses in slowly.

"Fuck." Proko's voice comes out in a choked moan, a sob, as Jiang pushes in. It's still a little bit of a stretch but it feels so fucking easy. "Fuck yes-- oh fuck, Will." He grips the sheets and he starts trying to work his hips back, trying to get more, faster.

"You feel so fucking good."

Jiang cradles Proko's hips, lets him move to take it this time. Proko knows how he needs it. He feels like a silky hot vice around Jiang, tight enough that it's an ache in his lower belly to not come immediately. He uses his knees to spread Proko's legs, sinking in.

"That's it," he whispers. "That's it baby boy. Take that cock, you fuckin' slut."

When Jiang doesn't make him stop, Proko starts moving in earnest. His knees slide further apart with Jiang's pushing and he braces himself so he can ride his cock, fucking himself like he needs to.

His voice comes out in slurred praises, soft curses, as he loses his grasp on English.

As Proko moves, Jiang just holds still for him. He could come from this, easily. Proko's hips and the vice of his ass, and the long line of his back, and the cant of Jiang's cover perched on the back of his head like it belongs there. Proko stripped naked and Jiang barely out of his uniform.

"Shit," he breathes, squeezing Proko's hips and meeting him, finally. It's a hard, burying thrust. He starts into a counter rhythm.

Proko chokes on a moan when Jiang's hips push to meet his, getting him deep every time. All he can do is move and breathe, driven on by how good it feels every fucking time Jiang sinks in. He can feel the fabric of his uniform against the backs of his thighs and knowing that Jiang is almost fully dressed - in fucking uniform - just gets him hot.

"Don't stop," he pleads. "Wanna feel you come in me again, baby. Please, please--"

"Touch yourself," Jiang urges. "Come on my cock baby. Be that messy fuckin' slut I know you are."

He fucking sobs when he gets permission to come. He pushes his hands between his legs, three fingers sliding easily into his cunt even with Jiang filling his ass.

"Oh fuck," he whimpers, working his hips desperately. His fingers slide free so he can stroke his clit, hand moving furiously until every single breath is edged with a moan. "Can I come? Oh fuck please, please."

He can't hold back, though, and as soon as he finishes pleading he's coming, curling up beneath Jiang like he can trap the feeling as it shivers through him.

"Shit, baby," Jiang sighs, a desperate noise as he watches Proko, as he feels it. He manages to fuck through it, hips rough and seeking his own pleasure. He doesn't bother asking where Proko wants him to come; that's still not this game.

He's behind him by just a minute or so, breath coming out in wanting shudders as he buries himself as deep as he can get and comes inside him.

He feels Jiang come and another sharp, delicious shiver races through him before Proko feels completely boneless. He tries to keep his hips up but his hand drops to the bed and he pants for air.

"I love you," he breathes, his voice utterly wrecked.

Jiang breathes out a noise that's possibly a laugh. He slaps Proko's ass a little, slowly easing out of him and then collapsing on his back next to him.

"You're obligated," he teases. "I just came in you twice."

Proko tries to stay where he is despite that all he wants is to collapse onto his side. "Take a picture of your come leaking out of me," he murmurs. "Send it to Kav."

"Who says I didn't already snap one?" Jiang asks. He doesn't want to move. But he does, despite the protests of his body wanting to just languish. He gets back up on his knees and, just to be extra crude, rests his cock against Proko's ass.

"Tip your hips up for the view, baby." He's already snapping pictures, a series of filthy shots that show the pink hand-strikes on Proko's ass.

Proko arches his back to tip his hips and he reaches down to spread his cunt, hoping there's a lewd gape with Jiang's come spilling out of his holes.

He only moves when Jiang does, finally falling onto his side, just trying to breathe. Jiang's cover is still over his face.

Jiang admires the pictures with conviction, going through and selecting a variety of them to send to Kavinsky without any context or anything else to say. It's possessive, and more than that it's a bit asinine because they both know that Kavinsky's been there too.

He sends one with a particularly good angle on the gape of both Proko's cunt and ass, the sloppy mess of come and spit smeared on his skin. Then he sets his phone aside.

"I can't stay," he says, solemnly.

He finally pushes the cover away from his face so he can look at Jiang, a little heartbroken. "I know," he murmurs. "Please, just a little longer?"

Proko pushes up a little and at the same time tries to pull Jiang closer to him. He bumps their brows together and tries for a shy, soft kiss.

Edited 2017-06-30 21:14 (UTC)

"Hey," Jiang whispers, right against the kiss. He kisses back, full of love, tenderness. Trust. He cups the back of Proko's neck, fingers fidgeting into the hair on the nape of his neck. "Hey. I don't have to go yet. Curfew's not for a couple hours."

He nods and he tries not to just climb into Jiang's lap. He's a mess. "Should take off your uniform," he says, tugging at the white fabric. "Don't wanna fuck it up."

"Think it's a little too late for that," Jiang points out with a wry smile. There's a smear of come on the thigh, discoloring the pants a little bit and giving the potential for a stain later. None the less, he gets out of bed on tottering legs and strips out, folding everything neatly.

"Good thing I've got Tide pens back in the room."

"Knew those would come in handy," he says with a small smile. As soon is Jiang is stripped down, Proko pulls him back into bed and into a kiss.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asks softly.

"I told you, I wasn't mad in the first place." And though there was anger, frustration, a little bite of betrayal, it's true. He isn't mad, wasn't, and so there's nothing to hold onto now that he's worked it out of his system.

"It's not how I wanted to find out about it. You had a shit load of time to tell me, man. That last substance party was ages ago."

"I fucked up," he says quietly. "I know I did." He doesn't have an excuse; Jiang's right. "It's not how I wanted you to find out, either."

His hand slides, fingers catching and tangling with Jiang's. "I didn't think it would happen again. And when it did it was when you were knee-deep in whatever they made you do for six weeks. And I didn't-- it didn't feel like something to do over the phone. But I should've told you."