[Ah, he'll have to reconsider his wordsmithing improvisation abilities again more carefully after this. Jindosh awards himself a point for delivering exactly what Paolo wants to hear (he is a genius after all) and smirks up at him before their lips meet again. He can't help his amusement at Paolo fumbling his way down to the bed even as he obliges and moves back enough to give him space. The hand in his hair still feels nice and this is going to happen—
He squeezes Paolo's hips now to distract himself from that new lurch of worry and concerned wonder. He wants Paolo in his bed, consequences be damned, and he'll think about those other things later, later, later. While Paolo is picking up all the clothes he's thrown around the room, probably.
Right now he's being kissed like he's the air and Paolo is drowning, and he might feel very much the opposite himself, but if Jindosh is drowning then he'll be sure to leave his mark before he goes. He returns each of Paolo's kisses and adds a few of his own, interrupting him mid-sentence to kiss at the corner of his mouth. He's very accommodating, though, moving his legs just enough for one of Paolo's to get between them.]
Then consider that your motivation to earn even more. I'm intrigued by what you have to offer. [Which might be a weird way to say he wants to bone, but whatever. Point made.] Show me what makes you the worthiest man to get into my bed.
[Compliment? Also the only man, but never mind.]
Edited (Don't let me tag at 7am, an edit reason my phone autofilled in shame) 2017-01-05 15:33 (UTC)
The only man to get in your bed. [He won't just let that go, no way. He's kissing with his shoulders shaking in amusement, repeating "intrigued" under his breath as his lips make their way down.
There's no ridiculous layers of clothing blocking his way to Jindosh's neck this time around, and the hand through his hair gently pulls to give himself more access. His kisses are gentle the first time around, little more than playful nips. But once he reaches the skin he knows a collar will cover, they're hard enough to mark the skin, with little consideration of if he might find it annoying in the morning.
He wanted it to be abundantly clear he was his tonight, after all.] The only one who comes to see you every night, [He says against his skin, pressing down on him so he would lay further back as his free hand roams down his chest. He stops at his waist, feeling around for whatever clasp to the pants he was wearing to undo it.] The only one who can walk out of here saying he's spent hours looking at you. Listening to you. Learning your secrets.
Yes, yes, [Jindosh consents to Paolo being the only man he's taking to bed like he's commenting on the weather, like it isn't the truly monumental task it is. He is intrigued, thank you very much Paolo, and to prove it his hands wander up Paolo's back again. He tilts his head for Paolo like it was his idea all along, unable to stop his breath from hitching when he's forceful enough to leave marks.
Those are definitely going to annoy him in the morning. They'll probably itch. He'll complain - what if he can't wear his cravat??
He shifts back again, so thoroughly obligingly he'll have to be extra fussy in the morning to make up for it, leaning on one of his elbows so he can keep tracing patterns on Paolo's back. If he's tracing the same pattern because he's already memorized where a handful of the stars on his back are, well... that doesn't matter, ignore that.]
My secrets, [he repeats, voice low but unwavering, with just a hint of challenge in it. His secrets. He almost starts to say something more, about how a man whose house is always open to any kind of miscreant who walks in the door has little room for secrets, but an unpleasant, fluttering memory kills the comment before he can say the first word. He can't put a finger on the memory but it's dark, like he's been put in a box and couldn't find his way out with one of the sides taken off, and he hates it so much he lets himself fall onto his back, that other hand coming up to the back of Paolo's neck.
Jindosh is most definitely the one drowning now; he pulls Paolo up to kiss him on the mouth, hard. The jolt of memory slips away from him as he anchors himself firmly in the present, breathing in Paolo... He still smells like Jindosh's lotion. What a nice touch.]
Well, [he's a little breathless after that kiss, but shh] then.
[well!!!]
You... I might consider the terms of your latest deal. Being called yours.
[If Paolo notices the change in Jindosh, however brief, he doesn't say a word. He only slowed his slightly, the grip in Jindosh's hair loosening, but the button of his pants still coming undone. His fingers brush the waistband, but he refrains from pulling them down in his attentiveness.
He would know if he lost the man to a bad memory, or if he lost him to the fact there were just none at all. He spent too long looking for the signs, too long enduring the fact he wouldn't remember a simple conversation. An unfinished thought could mean anything, if he lost him again, now--
The fear that threatened to stop his racing heart was snuffed out quickly and quietly, though, when he registers lips hard against his, only a second late into returning it. He'll keep him anchored in the present, with how he leans his weight into him and curls his fingers as they break away. stay.]
Y... Yeah? [He manages, less out of breath and more unfocused. He shakes his head, disregarding any stray worries that might linger.] I never discussed any terms of a deal, but... I thought it was kind of obvious I'm yours in return. If you...
[Even worry-free, he won't pull anything off him. No, it seems he'll slip his hand under instead, gliding fingers over what arousal he might have through fabric.] ... considering.
[Jindosh doesn't remember. There are stretches of time—weeks, at least, but was it months? It comes and goes in scraps and pieces and he knows that during that time his own mind came and went in scraps and pieces itself. It terrifies him the way no single thing ever has, to think that the hole in the back of his mind could swallow him back up at any moment is...
Staggering. He knows nothing of what Paolo is feeling in that moment because he can't know, he doesn't remember that there was anything for him to forget, but Paolo keeping him physically anchored here seems to do the trick. He can breathe, and he is no one but himself.
And Paolo is saying something. Jindosh gives him just enough focus to laugh, maybe... a little less rudely than usual?] Of course you belong to me.
[Obviously. But now that's out in the world where they can both hear it, and Jindosh's smug look stutters and slips a moment later when Paolo's hand brushes against him. Where his body wanted to lock up and refuse to move earlier it now wants to lift hips up and seek more of that touch, while he blinks about eight times like that will distract from how... needy he suddenly is.
He makes a face. Hormones.] As I was saying, [he's so smooth] you are the one waiting on me. You have been mine for weeks.
[Paolo could deny that. He could does what he does best and lie through his teeth, saying his visits were just to test his limits and apply the pain inflicted on him on others. It was true, once upon at time, but that was long before he was the type to stare so fondly when he got a smile out of Jindosh, let alone a laugh.]
I guess. [That's as close as he'll come to admitting it, though, even if the curve of his lips is a dead giveaway. Or perhaps he's trying not to laugh at the change in attitude, because he expected a much less eager response.] But you're the one wrapped around my finger for now, aren't you?
[Or, well, his fingers are wrapped around him. Quite literally, now, with how he's more firmly grasping his length through whatever fine fabric Jindosh happens to be wearing. He strokes slowly, as if coaxing any arousal deep in his uncertainty's to come out and play. Well, he probably wasn't thinking too deeply about that. He's just being a tease.]
[Staring fondly at him is still a new and different experience - no wonder Paolo being his for weeks has been obvious. Jindosh is usually disinterested, not stupid—he figured out quite quickly that Paolo looking at him the way he does meant something more than approval of his experiment techniques. Or something quite different from that in general, considering...
Anyway, don't laugh at him for having a perfectly healthy and responsive body. His ears burn red with embarrassment from either being touched or Paolo's amusement at it, but he still works at keeping the haughtiness in his face.]
Is that what you would call this? [He says the whole sentence in a single breath before he loses the smug look, hips twitching up again. He still has the presence of mind to scold himself for this—through fabric, Kirin Jindosh? Really?—but the way he pulls Paolo into another kiss is sign enough that he's enjoying himself as much as someone with his attitude can. And of course the fact that he's getting harder under Paolo's fingers, but the separation of body and mind is severe enough for him that he's kissing Paolo as a helpful reminder.]
[Paolo is appreciative in his efforts to remind him, considering how he'd spent the first kisses of theirs doubting Jindosh even wanted them. He could very well have just taken the initiative for each step they took, but the fact little time had since their lips last met before he was pulled down for more? That made it more exciting.
Hearing a challenge after that was just icing on a cake. Proving it began in more actions than words, Paolo chasing his lips for one last kiss before he leans weight off of Jindosh. His hand leaves his length, the other dragging down his side before joining in the effort to pull down the waist of his pants.
Regrettably, there's much less intimacy in this. The process is especially tedious with the nobleman's clothing, and while he makes an effort to retain contact, it proves difficult when his clothes catch on the long forgotten shoes. They're getting undone and thrown aside, somewhere he'll have to look later. It didn't matter. What mattered was the fact he hesitated at returning to the last article of Jindosh's clothing, instead pulling back to drop what little he had left himself to the floor. It was only fair he was the first bare.
[This, the least intimate part, is when Jindosh feels the most comfortable somehow. It follows logically—he only has to wait for Paolo to struggle lamely over his pants and shoes instead of working to maintain the semblance of his usual overconfidence he's been trying, when really he feels like a teenager fumbling in the back of a theatre.
So it's fine, really, to lie back and watch the ceiling while Paolo undresses him. He leans up on his elbows to chastise him about throwing more clothes around the room again, but stops when he realizes what Paolo is doing.
Well, there's no shame in him at all as he stares at Paolo, at all of him, looking him carefully up and down like he's a prize Jindosh has won. Which is close. He hasn't noticed the socks yet, which lets the quirk of his lips be nothing but satisfied, untarnished by sock judgment.
Nice.]
Come here, [he says, raising a hand to beckon, crooking a finger at Paolo as if there's any chance he wouldn't come when called.] Let me marvel at you again.
[But of course he would come when called. He always did. The break between them was long than he would like, with how tightly laced those boots were, but where frustration lied came renewed desire to join him.
So he only takes a moment to appreciate the newly exposed skin, just enough to commit the look of Jindosh laid out before him, waiting for him, to memory. As well as how it feels to climb back over him, the smell of his lotion-- Point is, he wants to remember all of this.]
And here I thought I would marvel enough for the both of us. [He places a hand at either side of him, enough to remain in reach but still able to watch his expression.] You are a present worth unwrapping after all.
[His boots are very nice, shut up?? Jindosh keeps that hand raised, sliding it over Paolo's jaw and behind his ear when he comes closer, eventually settling it on the back of his neck. His heart thumps nervously against his ribs again but he quiets it with a hum and an actual, proper smirk.]
If you would rather I lie back and act as though you aren't here, that could be arranged. I must say, it is a strange preference, but who am I to judge?
[Ha ha touch him again, that's a better idea.] I believe you were in the middle of proving something to me.
I think you'll find I'm too hard to ignore. [He returns his smirk with his own. He certain is too hard for just banter, so he'll have to get that justified.
Thankfully, at least in Paolo's case, the last restricting fabric was easier to remove than anything else. He's more attentive this time around, gliding his fingertips down the expanse of his thighs. And, just to be an ass, he'll delicately lay the underwear aside somewhere he wouldn't go looking. What he could have been doing the whole time, you know.
He'd assumed he would have a smart comment to follow, but his mouth was the Dust District when it came down to the fact he had Kirin Jindosh before him. That he had him waiting to touch him. He had a difficult time managing to meet his gaze again, but he does, wrapping his fingers around his length and starting in slow strokes.]
You're... [what? a smug asshole? rich prick? a sight to behold? no,] You're beautiful.
[Jindosh knew all along that Paolo was very rude, but putting one article of clothing aside nicely is just... so much. He makes a face at that like he's made a face each time Paolo has tossed something to the floor; there is no winning at all, ever.
At least being touched shuts him up before he begins, any criticisms he has for Paolo's throwing things around the room left for later. His fingers curl against the back of Paolo's neck, drawing his face closer, like maybe if he's too close to see his whole face at once, he'll be able to relax more. Ideally.
He'd shut his eyes, but opens one just a crack to look at Paolo when he speaks again. He's beautiful? Really? That's what Paolo is going with? Jindosh hums, a short little sound that might just be judging his compliment.
What an asshole.] If you want to touch me so badly then touch me, Paolo. Don't fumble around.
[He doesn't have time for this sentimental beautiful stuff!! Call him smart or get out of bed.]
[It's a good thing Paolo isn't so rude that he would just up and leave if it didn't turn out. No, Paolo knows having any effect with that was a long shot. It doesn't hurt him in the slightest, even if his laughing off was little more than an exhale and a shake of his head.]
Should have known. Way to your cock is through your brain, right? [Not that he really needed a way, seeing as his grip grows more firm around him. He won't fumble since he asked so nicely, slow strokes meant to get him hard turning to more dedicated efforts to ensure he was feeling more past that point.] Usually it's the other way around.
I guess I should say you're beautiful under the light from your balcony, [He leaned close, as if going for his lips, only to lower his lips down to his torso. The hand supporting his weight shifted to his elbow, slipping under Jindosh's back as he kissed down his front.] The balcony of a house I can't wrap my head around. You can marvel all you want, but it's nothing compared to how long I've already been lost in everything you do, every creation from your hands.
It'd take months to catch up-- [let him just leave another one of those marks at his side,] --months you don't have the time for, isn't that right?
[What did he say about being crude? Jindosh still hasn't stopped making a face at him for his comments, but he's definitely losing his focus when Paolo touches him more insistently. Paolo's hand, his weight against him, his words—Jindosh almost moves to kiss him when he's close, breathing out slowly instead when Paolo moves down.
Alright... He's persuaded.]
Years. [A helpful correction. Paolo has seen more of his mansion than most, but it's still a testament to everything Jindosh has dedicated his whole life to. Years. Of course he wants that clear, even as Paolo's touch starts to unravel the tension humming through him.] For you, years and years. Countless months, stretching into ages.
[He moves his hand from the back of Paolo's neck into the hair at the top of his head, smoothing his fingers through it first before holding them there. He doesn't make a sound besides his words but his body moves, arching into Paolo's touch, seeking more of his mouth and fingers. He'll probably be bothered by that second mark in the morning too, but for now he'll let the feeling of it undo him just a little bit more.
While he calls Paolo an idiot, but whatever.]
Even coming here every night for a year wouldn't reveal every gift this place has to offer. [And he's including himself in that, as part of the house.] But you know visitors are always encouraged to try.
[The usual advertisement, except this time it's fairly obvious he means Paolo can fall into bed with him at will, if the timing is right.]
I have a feeling I'll come to know more places better than others. This place, for instance... [Is he talking about the bedroom or his dick, who knows. He certainly is close to the latter, his lips meeting the curve of Jindosh's hips, the hand following down his back and coming to grip his side and keep him still.
His tongue was dangerously close to tasting him when he wet his lips.] If it takes years, well... I guess I'll have to keep coming until you get bored with my tricks. [As in yes, he'll take the time if he has to. He considered his time worth a little more than his usual visitors, given that he could be out making change in the city around the time he was letting the man cut him open.
He stills the hand around him at his base, flashing a warning smirk before lips so keen on insulting Jindosh sank down his head. He took no pause, either, his tongue swirling around the sensitive skin as if it hadn't been months to years since he'd last bedded anyone.]
Well, luckily for you, I'm still quite fascinated by the way you work. [With his rats or with his hands? Could be both. Jindosh keeps his fingers in Paolo's hair and lets his eyes slip shut again, half a smirk playing over his lips. Paolo holding him still makes him feel restless, all of this sends his wheels spinning nearly out of control and he can't help but enjoy the ride. Not a wink of that awkward bumbling from earlier, just a heavy warmth in his chest and sharp little jolts of pleasure wherever Paolo is touching or close-to-touching.
Holding still is more of an effort when Paolo's mouth closes around him, far too many new sensations at once. Jindosh squeezes his fingers harder in Paolo's hair, still not making any sound but drawing in a sharp breath. Those spinning wheels spin harder, and the part of him left that can focus is already enraptured by the feeling, the heat, the movement of his tongue...]
This is a trick? [he asks, breath catching again, this time on a brief laugh. Could it be that sex is already somewhat impressive—??] In here, I'm not interested in your smoke and mirrors. Surely there are other ways— [ngh,] —other ways to uncover what makes you tick.
[Paolo listens to every word-- how can't he, when the man makes him so aware of how he needed to pay attention? He loves the pull of his hair, the press of his skin when the effort to keep in control fails. No one demands his attention like Jindosh does, so it's no wonder he's growing more enraptured by the second.
There's words on the tip of his tongue, but he finds he doesn't have the will to remove himself. Instead he hums in acknowledgement, sparing a glance up as that tongue runs down the underside of his length. He'd started with his hand working the skin his mouth didn't cover, but it was quickly becoming a shorter gap as he grew more comfortable, taking more of him which each bob of his head.
It was when Paolo's nose brushed skin that the hand finally left him, finding it's place at the opposite side of his hip and running down his thigh. He's sure Jindosh will figure out Paolo's the one doing the uncovering on his own.]
[Humming. Humming with his mouth on his dick is especially interesting. Now Jindosh makes a sound, a low noise in his throat that he studiously tries to cut off midway through. He won't go to pieces that easily, so when he puts his free hand over his own mouth briefly, it's to stop himself from groaning the more Paolo's mouth sinks down over him.
He's certainly figuring out a few things, that's true. He can only cover his own mouth for so long before he moves that hand down to Paolo instead, but not his hair—fingers fumbling over his shoulder before blindly reaching for his hand and closing around his wrist instead. His hips twitch up again and his hand in Paolo's hair would be trembling if he weren't holding so hard. It's much, much easier now to lose himself in the feeling, to put his relentless thoughts on hold and focus only on the pleasure.]
Paolo, [he says anyway, because he can't ever make himself stop talking even as he avoids making obvious sounds of gratification. But, uh, hmm. He can't really complain about this, considering. So that's it then, Paolo's name said once and then said again in almost a whisper, in the absence of any... criticisms for the time being.]
[Paolo expected some level of restraint from the man, so it's no surprise that the sounds he pulls out of him are muffled behind his hand. If anything, it was more motivation to coax him into it. It would do him good to come apart, and Paolo thought he would laugh what he got out of the grand inventor.
But in a surprising turn of events, he caught his name again and again. Jindosh wasn't the only one to shudder as Paolo went down on him. He sank down on him until his lips could go no further, that interesting hum less musing and more appreciative than the last. His nails will leave imprints from how hard he squeezes him in the moment, holding himself there until he had to withdraw for a breath.]
You keep saying my name, Kirin. [It wasn't a request. Not with the way he looks at him, gaze piercing as he licks the taste of him off his lips. He doesn't mock him, though, turning the hand Jindosh gripped his wrist in to fit it in his as he takes him back into his mouth. There was no hesitance in his movements any longer, his pace quick and controlled as he strived to take as much of him each time.]
[He's still humming, and that will be that, won't it? The leader of the Howlers humming around his cock is going to be his great undoing. It seems silly when he thinks about it, so he doesn't after the brief flash of thought. The sting of Paolo's nails pressed into his skin is engrossing in a way it shouldn't rightly be, a pretty contrast to the wet heat of his mouth, and Jindosh is not a poetic man but he could write a verse or two about the sudden fascination Paolo has inspired in him.
Like, not about going down on him. But metaphors and a vague attempt at putting feelings into words, something like that. Jindosh blinks himself out of it in the brief moment Paolo lifts off of him, looking at him with a creased brow and letting go of his hair only to brush a stray strand of it out of his face, then tangle his grip in it again.
Paolo might be the only person besides the Duke who calls him by his first name, and certainly the only person who does it with affection. Jindosh looks like he might say something again, but gives up on the thought to squeeze Paolo's hand instead and shudder once more through Paolo's mouth around him.]
You should be flattered. [how is he still talking] If any man were capable of reaching my bed, then I wouldn't waste time learning which name to keep on my lips.
[To be fair, Paolo would probably appreciate verses about going down on him more. He was crude, and he thinks he's doing quite well, considering how long it'd been and who Jindosh was. He was holding hands with him, after all.
The thought should off-put him more than it did. It was silly. The leader of the Howlers didn't get that title from a gentle touch. And yet his fingers still lace with Jindosh's, squeezing his hand in some effort to keep them both grounded in the moment. There was no time for stray thoughts. He had to ignore the fact hearing him makes him ache the way down to the core.]
Mhmm... [It's hard to reply with a dick down your throat, but he at least makes some effort to sound believing of that. He was flattered, very much so, and there was no point in denying it here. Not with how keenly he ran his tongue around his length, his free hand moving to explore Jindosh's inner thigh.
He pressed down on him, easing his legs further apart. Each instance he felt Jindosh was finally comfortable was an invitation to move forward, and moving forward was spreading him for access.]
[Thankfully for Paolo's reputation, Jindosh doesn't think the leader of the Howlers goes down on that many people in the first place, let alone holds hands. It plays straight to his ego, to consider himself the only one to get Paolo into bed in a while in turn. After all, the man comes to see him and his operating table every night—no man with more interesting prospects at home would keep subjecting themselves to his tools.
So it's flattering to have his hand held and dizzying to feel Paolo's mouth around him. He wants to rock up with his hips, make much shorter work of this and feel some sort of release, but something stops him from doing it. A feeling beyond the simple sexual fact that he's enjoying this, something else that really does appreciate Paolo holding his hand and Paolo being here in his bed, instead of anyone else who's tried to bed him for the sake of saying so. Paolo who's crude and uneducated and can throw clothes around the room much better than he can actually wear them. Of all people.
Fuck. Jindosh really does like him, and it's more than just his dick thinking so. How annoying.]
Now what? [he manages, after he controls the shake in his voice almost entirely. Again, he's not an idiot, but not even his seconds-ago revelation about how he really does value the company of this man he's only cut to pieces before now can put him wholly at ease about the implications of having his legs spread. Not that he doesn't allow Paolo to do it, because he does—but speak to him and put him back where he's comfortable. He's missing Paolo's banter.
Feelings are dreadful and tacky, he thinks as he smooths Paolo's hair back from his face again. What does he do with this warmth in his chest?]
[Paolo nearly stilled when he heard the question, slowing his motions around him as he thought on how to answer. By all means, he normally wouldn't think so much to comfort anyone. He didn't take this long in intimacy, and didn't expect anyone to hold back simply because they wanted to stay in his company. Least of all a man like Jindosh.
Perhaps it's his own warmth in his chest that drives him to squeeze Jindosh's hand in reassurance. He might be crude and uneducated, but he knows the signs well enough to see his uncertainty yet again, and it doesn't seem he's lost an ounce of patience. He takes time in removing himself from length, and with his deep thought,]
Depends on if you want me to fuck you or not. [If he wasn't crude he wouldn't be Paolo. Still, he thinks there's more comfort in his smirk than if he replied so seriously.] I would assume so... with how hard this is. [Here, he'll kiss the head for good measure.]
[Ah, yes, he wouldn't be Paolo if he wasn't squeezing Jindosh's hand and pulling his mouth away achingly slowly at the same time. The man is a walking contradiction, alive when he should be dead a thousand times over, damnably charming when he's no more than a thug, reassuring when he's crude. All part of the puzzle, Jindosh thinks, and the puzzle is currently making him look away from him and up at the ceiling, frowning with carefully controlled embarrassment.
Making him say it is so... The price for calling the shots is steep. Jindosh sighs, sliding his fingers out of Paolo's hair to brush against his cheek.]
Yes, yes. [Again with that talking about the weather tone, but let him have this.] Come here, first, and let me look at you.
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He squeezes Paolo's hips now to distract himself from that new lurch of worry and concerned wonder. He wants Paolo in his bed, consequences be damned, and he'll think about those other things later, later, later. While Paolo is picking up all the clothes he's thrown around the room, probably.
Right now he's being kissed like he's the air and Paolo is drowning, and he might feel very much the opposite himself, but if Jindosh is drowning then he'll be sure to leave his mark before he goes. He returns each of Paolo's kisses and adds a few of his own, interrupting him mid-sentence to kiss at the corner of his mouth. He's very accommodating, though, moving his legs just enough for one of Paolo's to get between them.]
Then consider that your motivation to earn even more. I'm intrigued by what you have to offer. [Which might be a weird way to say he wants to bone, but whatever. Point made.] Show me what makes you the worthiest man to get into my bed.
[Compliment? Also the only man, but never mind.]
no subject
There's no ridiculous layers of clothing blocking his way to Jindosh's neck this time around, and the hand through his hair gently pulls to give himself more access. His kisses are gentle the first time around, little more than playful nips. But once he reaches the skin he knows a collar will cover, they're hard enough to mark the skin, with little consideration of if he might find it annoying in the morning.
He wanted it to be abundantly clear he was his tonight, after all.] The only one who comes to see you every night, [He says against his skin, pressing down on him so he would lay further back as his free hand roams down his chest. He stops at his waist, feeling around for whatever clasp to the pants he was wearing to undo it.] The only one who can walk out of here saying he's spent hours looking at you. Listening to you. Learning your secrets.
no subject
Those are definitely going to annoy him in the morning. They'll probably itch. He'll complain - what if he can't wear his cravat??
He shifts back again, so thoroughly obligingly he'll have to be extra fussy in the morning to make up for it, leaning on one of his elbows so he can keep tracing patterns on Paolo's back. If he's tracing the same pattern because he's already memorized where a handful of the stars on his back are, well... that doesn't matter, ignore that.]
My secrets, [he repeats, voice low but unwavering, with just a hint of challenge in it. His secrets. He almost starts to say something more, about how a man whose house is always open to any kind of miscreant who walks in the door has little room for secrets, but an unpleasant, fluttering memory kills the comment before he can say the first word. He can't put a finger on the memory but it's dark, like he's been put in a box and couldn't find his way out with one of the sides taken off, and he hates it so much he lets himself fall onto his back, that other hand coming up to the back of Paolo's neck.
Jindosh is most definitely the one drowning now; he pulls Paolo up to kiss him on the mouth, hard. The jolt of memory slips away from him as he anchors himself firmly in the present, breathing in Paolo... He still smells like Jindosh's lotion. What a nice touch.]
Well, [he's a little breathless after that kiss, but shh] then.
[well!!!]
You... I might consider the terms of your latest deal. Being called yours.
[Very tentatively!!!!!]
no subject
He would know if he lost the man to a bad memory, or if he lost him to the fact there were just none at all. He spent too long looking for the signs, too long enduring the fact he wouldn't remember a simple conversation. An unfinished thought could mean anything, if he lost him again, now--
The fear that threatened to stop his racing heart was snuffed out quickly and quietly, though, when he registers lips hard against his, only a second late into returning it. He'll keep him anchored in the present, with how he leans his weight into him and curls his fingers as they break away. stay.]
Y... Yeah? [He manages, less out of breath and more unfocused. He shakes his head, disregarding any stray worries that might linger.] I never discussed any terms of a deal, but... I thought it was kind of obvious I'm yours in return. If you...
[Even worry-free, he won't pull anything off him. No, it seems he'll slip his hand under instead, gliding fingers over what arousal he might have through fabric.] ... considering.
no subject
Staggering. He knows nothing of what Paolo is feeling in that moment because he can't know, he doesn't remember that there was anything for him to forget, but Paolo keeping him physically anchored here seems to do the trick. He can breathe, and he is no one but himself.
And Paolo is saying something. Jindosh gives him just enough focus to laugh, maybe... a little less rudely than usual?] Of course you belong to me.
[Obviously. But now that's out in the world where they can both hear it, and Jindosh's smug look stutters and slips a moment later when Paolo's hand brushes against him. Where his body wanted to lock up and refuse to move earlier it now wants to lift hips up and seek more of that touch, while he blinks about eight times like that will distract from how... needy he suddenly is.
He makes a face. Hormones.] As I was saying, [he's so smooth] you are the one waiting on me. You have been mine for weeks.
[so.]
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I guess. [That's as close as he'll come to admitting it, though, even if the curve of his lips is a dead giveaway. Or perhaps he's trying not to laugh at the change in attitude, because he expected a much less eager response.] But you're the one wrapped around my finger for now, aren't you?
[Or, well, his fingers are wrapped around him. Quite literally, now, with how he's more firmly grasping his length through whatever fine fabric Jindosh happens to be wearing. He strokes slowly, as if coaxing any arousal deep in his uncertainty's to come out and play. Well, he probably wasn't thinking too deeply about that. He's just being a tease.]
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Anyway, don't laugh at him for having a perfectly healthy and responsive body. His ears burn red with embarrassment from either being touched or Paolo's amusement at it, but he still works at keeping the haughtiness in his face.]
Is that what you would call this? [He says the whole sentence in a single breath before he loses the smug look, hips twitching up again. He still has the presence of mind to scold himself for this—through fabric, Kirin Jindosh? Really?—but the way he pulls Paolo into another kiss is sign enough that he's enjoying himself as much as someone with his attitude can. And of course the fact that he's getting harder under Paolo's fingers, but the separation of body and mind is severe enough for him that he's kissing Paolo as a helpful reminder.]
Prove it.
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Hearing a challenge after that was just icing on a cake. Proving it began in more actions than words, Paolo chasing his lips for one last kiss before he leans weight off of Jindosh. His hand leaves his length, the other dragging down his side before joining in the effort to pull down the waist of his pants.
Regrettably, there's much less intimacy in this. The process is especially tedious with the nobleman's clothing, and while he makes an effort to retain contact, it proves difficult when his clothes catch on the long forgotten shoes. They're getting undone and thrown aside, somewhere he'll have to look later. It didn't matter. What mattered was the fact he hesitated at returning to the last article of Jindosh's clothing, instead pulling back to drop what little he had left himself to the floor. It was only fair he was the first bare.
Except, you know, those damn socks.]
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So it's fine, really, to lie back and watch the ceiling while Paolo undresses him. He leans up on his elbows to chastise him about throwing more clothes around the room again, but stops when he realizes what Paolo is doing.
Well, there's no shame in him at all as he stares at Paolo, at all of him, looking him carefully up and down like he's a prize Jindosh has won. Which is close. He hasn't noticed the socks yet, which lets the quirk of his lips be nothing but satisfied, untarnished by sock judgment.
Nice.]
Come here, [he says, raising a hand to beckon, crooking a finger at Paolo as if there's any chance he wouldn't come when called.] Let me marvel at you again.
[He will not marvel at the socks.]
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So he only takes a moment to appreciate the newly exposed skin, just enough to commit the look of Jindosh laid out before him, waiting for him, to memory. As well as how it feels to climb back over him, the smell of his lotion-- Point is, he wants to remember all of this.]
And here I thought I would marvel enough for the both of us. [He places a hand at either side of him, enough to remain in reach but still able to watch his expression.] You are a present worth unwrapping after all.
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If you would rather I lie back and act as though you aren't here, that could be arranged. I must say, it is a strange preference, but who am I to judge?
[Ha ha touch him again, that's a better idea.] I believe you were in the middle of proving something to me.
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Thankfully, at least in Paolo's case, the last restricting fabric was easier to remove than anything else. He's more attentive this time around, gliding his fingertips down the expanse of his thighs. And, just to be an ass, he'll delicately lay the underwear aside somewhere he wouldn't go looking. What he could have been doing the whole time, you know.
He'd assumed he would have a smart comment to follow, but his mouth was the Dust District when it came down to the fact he had Kirin Jindosh before him. That he had him waiting to touch him. He had a difficult time managing to meet his gaze again, but he does, wrapping his fingers around his length and starting in slow strokes.]
You're... [what? a smug asshole? rich prick? a sight to behold? no,] You're beautiful.
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At least being touched shuts him up before he begins, any criticisms he has for Paolo's throwing things around the room left for later. His fingers curl against the back of Paolo's neck, drawing his face closer, like maybe if he's too close to see his whole face at once, he'll be able to relax more. Ideally.
He'd shut his eyes, but opens one just a crack to look at Paolo when he speaks again. He's beautiful? Really? That's what Paolo is going with? Jindosh hums, a short little sound that might just be judging his compliment.
What an asshole.] If you want to touch me so badly then touch me, Paolo. Don't fumble around.
[He doesn't have time for this sentimental beautiful stuff!! Call him smart or get out of bed.]
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Should have known. Way to your cock is through your brain, right? [Not that he really needed a way, seeing as his grip grows more firm around him. He won't fumble since he asked so nicely, slow strokes meant to get him hard turning to more dedicated efforts to ensure he was feeling more past that point.] Usually it's the other way around.
I guess I should say you're beautiful under the light from your balcony, [He leaned close, as if going for his lips, only to lower his lips down to his torso. The hand supporting his weight shifted to his elbow, slipping under Jindosh's back as he kissed down his front.] The balcony of a house I can't wrap my head around. You can marvel all you want, but it's nothing compared to how long I've already been lost in everything you do, every creation from your hands.
It'd take months to catch up-- [let him just leave another one of those marks at his side,] --months you don't have the time for, isn't that right?
[He's trying, let him live,]
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Alright... He's persuaded.]
Years. [A helpful correction. Paolo has seen more of his mansion than most, but it's still a testament to everything Jindosh has dedicated his whole life to. Years. Of course he wants that clear, even as Paolo's touch starts to unravel the tension humming through him.] For you, years and years. Countless months, stretching into ages.
[He moves his hand from the back of Paolo's neck into the hair at the top of his head, smoothing his fingers through it first before holding them there. He doesn't make a sound besides his words but his body moves, arching into Paolo's touch, seeking more of his mouth and fingers. He'll probably be bothered by that second mark in the morning too, but for now he'll let the feeling of it undo him just a little bit more.
While he calls Paolo an idiot, but whatever.]
Even coming here every night for a year wouldn't reveal every gift this place has to offer. [And he's including himself in that, as part of the house.] But you know visitors are always encouraged to try.
[The usual advertisement, except this time it's fairly obvious he means Paolo can fall into bed with him at will, if the timing is right.]
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His tongue was dangerously close to tasting him when he wet his lips.] If it takes years, well... I guess I'll have to keep coming until you get bored with my tricks. [As in yes, he'll take the time if he has to. He considered his time worth a little more than his usual visitors, given that he could be out making change in the city around the time he was letting the man cut him open.
He stills the hand around him at his base, flashing a warning smirk before lips so keen on insulting Jindosh sank down his head. He took no pause, either, his tongue swirling around the sensitive skin as if it hadn't been months to years since he'd last bedded anyone.]
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Holding still is more of an effort when Paolo's mouth closes around him, far too many new sensations at once. Jindosh squeezes his fingers harder in Paolo's hair, still not making any sound but drawing in a sharp breath. Those spinning wheels spin harder, and the part of him left that can focus is already enraptured by the feeling, the heat, the movement of his tongue...]
This is a trick? [he asks, breath catching again, this time on a brief laugh. Could it be that sex is already somewhat impressive—??] In here, I'm not interested in your smoke and mirrors. Surely there are other ways— [ngh,] —other ways to uncover what makes you tick.
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There's words on the tip of his tongue, but he finds he doesn't have the will to remove himself. Instead he hums in acknowledgement, sparing a glance up as that tongue runs down the underside of his length. He'd started with his hand working the skin his mouth didn't cover, but it was quickly becoming a shorter gap as he grew more comfortable, taking more of him which each bob of his head.
It was when Paolo's nose brushed skin that the hand finally left him, finding it's place at the opposite side of his hip and running down his thigh. He's sure Jindosh will figure out Paolo's the one doing the uncovering on his own.]
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He's certainly figuring out a few things, that's true. He can only cover his own mouth for so long before he moves that hand down to Paolo instead, but not his hair—fingers fumbling over his shoulder before blindly reaching for his hand and closing around his wrist instead. His hips twitch up again and his hand in Paolo's hair would be trembling if he weren't holding so hard. It's much, much easier now to lose himself in the feeling, to put his relentless thoughts on hold and focus only on the pleasure.]
Paolo, [he says anyway, because he can't ever make himself stop talking even as he avoids making obvious sounds of gratification. But, uh, hmm. He can't really complain about this, considering. So that's it then, Paolo's name said once and then said again in almost a whisper, in the absence of any... criticisms for the time being.]
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But in a surprising turn of events, he caught his name again and again. Jindosh wasn't the only one to shudder as Paolo went down on him. He sank down on him until his lips could go no further, that interesting hum less musing and more appreciative than the last. His nails will leave imprints from how hard he squeezes him in the moment, holding himself there until he had to withdraw for a breath.]
You keep saying my name, Kirin. [It wasn't a request. Not with the way he looks at him, gaze piercing as he licks the taste of him off his lips. He doesn't mock him, though, turning the hand Jindosh gripped his wrist in to fit it in his as he takes him back into his mouth. There was no hesitance in his movements any longer, his pace quick and controlled as he strived to take as much of him each time.]
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Like, not about going down on him. But metaphors and a vague attempt at putting feelings into words, something like that. Jindosh blinks himself out of it in the brief moment Paolo lifts off of him, looking at him with a creased brow and letting go of his hair only to brush a stray strand of it out of his face, then tangle his grip in it again.
Paolo might be the only person besides the Duke who calls him by his first name, and certainly the only person who does it with affection. Jindosh looks like he might say something again, but gives up on the thought to squeeze Paolo's hand instead and shudder once more through Paolo's mouth around him.]
You should be flattered. [how is he still talking] If any man were capable of reaching my bed, then I wouldn't waste time learning which name to keep on my lips.
[So he likes him a little, shut up.]
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The thought should off-put him more than it did. It was silly. The leader of the Howlers didn't get that title from a gentle touch. And yet his fingers still lace with Jindosh's, squeezing his hand in some effort to keep them both grounded in the moment. There was no time for stray thoughts. He had to ignore the fact hearing him makes him ache the way down to the core.]
Mhmm... [It's hard to reply with a dick down your throat, but he at least makes some effort to sound believing of that. He was flattered, very much so, and there was no point in denying it here. Not with how keenly he ran his tongue around his length, his free hand moving to explore Jindosh's inner thigh.
He pressed down on him, easing his legs further apart. Each instance he felt Jindosh was finally comfortable was an invitation to move forward, and moving forward was spreading him for access.]
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So it's flattering to have his hand held and dizzying to feel Paolo's mouth around him. He wants to rock up with his hips, make much shorter work of this and feel some sort of release, but something stops him from doing it. A feeling beyond the simple sexual fact that he's enjoying this, something else that really does appreciate Paolo holding his hand and Paolo being here in his bed, instead of anyone else who's tried to bed him for the sake of saying so. Paolo who's crude and uneducated and can throw clothes around the room much better than he can actually wear them. Of all people.
Fuck. Jindosh really does like him, and it's more than just his dick thinking so. How annoying.]
Now what? [he manages, after he controls the shake in his voice almost entirely. Again, he's not an idiot, but not even his seconds-ago revelation about how he really does value the company of this man he's only cut to pieces before now can put him wholly at ease about the implications of having his legs spread. Not that he doesn't allow Paolo to do it, because he does—but speak to him and put him back where he's comfortable. He's missing Paolo's banter.
Feelings are dreadful and tacky, he thinks as he smooths Paolo's hair back from his face again. What does he do with this warmth in his chest?]
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Perhaps it's his own warmth in his chest that drives him to squeeze Jindosh's hand in reassurance. He might be crude and uneducated, but he knows the signs well enough to see his uncertainty yet again, and it doesn't seem he's lost an ounce of patience. He takes time in removing himself from length, and with his deep thought,]
Depends on if you want me to fuck you or not. [If he wasn't crude he wouldn't be Paolo. Still, he thinks there's more comfort in his smirk than if he replied so seriously.] I would assume so... with how hard this is. [Here, he'll kiss the head for good measure.]
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Making him say it is so... The price for calling the shots is steep. Jindosh sighs, sliding his fingers out of Paolo's hair to brush against his cheek.]
Yes, yes. [Again with that talking about the weather tone, but let him have this.] Come here, first, and let me look at you.
[kiss him,]
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