“You think you can toy with me, boy?” the man behind him hisses, and God help him but that’s hot and wrong, like this whole situation, Aladdin pinned up against the wall with his wrists held in those long, elegant hands and the heat and weight of the older man making him pant a little and want to struggle, except that there’s a distinct possibility that that might end badly, between Jafar being quite possibly a sorcerer and quite *definitely* hard against Aladdin’s back, and the lamp being far too far away to get at easily.
So, okay, maybe smirking at the vizier over dinner had been a bad idea, but Aladdin had been high on magic and love and the best trick *ever*, the trick that might win him a princess if she ever stopped scowling at him, and Jafar had been kind of hot, glowering there at the end of the table, and Aladdin couldn’t quite resist the sly remarks, the occasional smoldering look under his lashes, and apparently that had been a really, really bad idea. Or possibly a really good one, if this is going to end up in a bed rather than in Aladdin being dead.
And perhaps it is, because Jafar is *certainly* interested, but Aladdin has the sinking feeling that he is not going to be in charge of this encounter at all, at all, because Jafar is really startlingly strong; so Aladdin goes with it. One learns to go with the prevailing winds, on the streets. When Jafar kicks Aladdin’s legs apart, Aladdin just moans and leans back into the wiry strength of the older man, which makes Jafar hiss again and transfer both of Aladdin’s wrists to the grip of one strong hand. The other hand fumbles briefly between them, and then Aladdin’s loose pants have been tugged to his knees, and Jafar’s long fingers - slick, thankfully, though God knows with *what*, perhaps oil from dinner - are pushing into him, startling and painful and *good*, and Aladdin spreads his legs as far as they’ll go with the pants in the way and goes with it.
And then Jafar is gone - hands, heat, strength, all of him - and Aladdin collapses to the floor in a debauched, confused tangle of limbs. Jafar is staring down at him with something like hatred in those black eyes, and he hisses, “*Never* try to toy with me, fool,” with deep contempt in his voice, and leaves.
Permission to write a sequel to this extremly squirmy and hot ficlet?
It brought to mind the possibilities if the scene where the guards capture Aladdin and toss him into the ocean under Jafar's direction took this sort of turn. ;) I love cocky Aladdin and scary but still interested Jafar!
So, okay, maybe smirking at the vizier over dinner had been a bad idea, but Aladdin had been high on magic and love and the best trick *ever*, the trick that might win him a princess if she ever stopped scowling at him, and Jafar had been kind of hot, glowering there at the end of the table, and Aladdin couldn’t quite resist the sly remarks, the occasional smoldering look under his lashes, and apparently that had been a really, really bad idea. Or possibly a really good one, if this is going to end up in a bed rather than in Aladdin being dead.
And perhaps it is, because Jafar is *certainly* interested, but Aladdin has the sinking feeling that he is not going to be in charge of this encounter at all, at all, because Jafar is really startlingly strong; so Aladdin goes with it. One learns to go with the prevailing winds, on the streets. When Jafar kicks Aladdin’s legs apart, Aladdin just moans and leans back into the wiry strength of the older man, which makes Jafar hiss again and transfer both of Aladdin’s wrists to the grip of one strong hand. The other hand fumbles briefly between them, and then Aladdin’s loose pants have been tugged to his knees, and Jafar’s long fingers - slick, thankfully, though God knows with *what*, perhaps oil from dinner - are pushing into him, startling and painful and *good*, and Aladdin spreads his legs as far as they’ll go with the pants in the way and goes with it.
And then Jafar is gone - hands, heat, strength, all of him - and Aladdin collapses to the floor in a debauched, confused tangle of limbs. Jafar is staring down at him with something like hatred in those black eyes, and he hisses, “*Never* try to toy with me, fool,” with deep contempt in his voice, and leaves.
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It brought to mind the possibilities if the scene where the guards capture Aladdin and toss him into the ocean under Jafar's direction took this sort of turn. ;) I love cocky Aladdin and scary but still interested Jafar!
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