fic (oh hi, I finally wrote some porn... sort of)
Title: A Simple Bit of Concern
Summary: Bolger always takes offense to any amount of concern shown. And far too many of their disagreements wind up ending this way.
Pairing: Pearson/Bolger
Rating: R (maybe NC-17? I personally don't think it's explicit enough for the later but YMMV)
Warnings: Sex with a side of light bondage. On the matter of the age gap, it works out to Pearson being in his late 20s while Bolger is in his early 20s. Nothing particularly improper, but Bolger does get mouthy in a "do you want me to call you daddy?" sort of way that may be squicky for some.
Disclaimer: YGO isn't mine, of course.
It's kind of hilarious that the one time I managed to write Pearson and Bolger porn is the one time I didn't actually set out to write it. This was supposed to be about Bolger's possibly lousy eyesight, dammit. XD
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It's one of those things that's terribly easy to overlook. The way Bolger squints just slightly and walks a few steps closer if he's being shown something that's not right next to him. His eyes narrowing not quite in thought, but more like he's struggling to make out exactly which cards are opposing him when he duels. And when they're driving somewhere...
Late one night Pearson finally asks about it. A gentle murmur next to Bolger's ear and he keeps one arm coiled tightly around the younger man's waist while he asks, "How long have you been having trouble seeing?"
Bolger's quiet for a minute, that edgy sort of silence that plainly indicates he does not want to talk about this under any circumstances hanging heavy between them until he squirms a bit and gives Pearson's arm a shove. Muttering, "I don't know what you're talking about," into the pillow as he twists away and Pearson sighs.
"It's kind of obvious and it's getting worse, isn't it? You're squinting at anything further than a metre away."
"I think you're exaggerating. And even if I am, what the fuck can we do about it? Are you going to dig through a trash heap looking for a pair of glasses that'll work? Good fucking luck with that."
"I don't know. But with that kind of attitude maybe you shouldn't be biking anywhere. You'll probably wind up putting someone in danger."
"Gonna take the keys away from me, 'daddy'?" Bolger sneers and Pearson's jaw clenches a little in frustration.
"Maybe I should. It might be good for you to cool it and not be able to run around wherever you damn well please. At the very least it would stop you from running someone over."
"Fuck you." The words come out as a vicious snap and Bolger twists back towards Pearson just enough to aim a glare in the other man's direction. "You do not get to both fuck me and treat me like one of the kids around here. First because I'm an adult and secondly because it's seriously kind of twisted. I don't care how much of a stupid, self-destructive teenager I was when I moved here. I'm not anymore."
"Could've fooled me, you're doing a good job of sulking like one right now. Either be an adult or be a brat, but you don't get to play both sides and then accuse me of having some kind of twisted kink." Pearson smiles, slow and almost wickedly. His voice dropping to a horse murmur as his lips brush against Bolger's ear. "You're the one who called me 'daddy' first after all."
"And you're still getting off on it. So who's more fucked up?"
"I don't know. How turned on are you right now, Jamie?"
"I'm not. Fuck. And quit calling me that. I've told you a thousand times...."
Whatever Bolger had been about to say suddenly falls into a muffled protest as Pearson's lips seal over his. A protest that shifts to a groan and Bolger's fingers twist and tangle in Pearson's hair, giving vicious little tugs and Pearson smiles against Bolger's lips. Lifting his head just enough to murmur, "Remember to keep it down. The kids...."
"Oh, fuck you. Fuck you so hard. I should scream until Security gets called because someone thinks I'm being murdered in here you arrogant pri...."
Pearson kisses him quiet again and Bolger's teeth sink into Pearson's lip hard enough that Pearson flinches back with a hiss of pain. Unable to stop himself from smiling as he pins Bolger's squirming body under his own, ultimately whispering, "You're the worst kind of brat," against the side of Bolger's neck.
"Gonna spank me?"
"See, I told you that you liked it too."
It's a game Bolger pretends he doesn't enjoy, but it's one they've played often enough that Pearson knows there will be more complaints if he stops halfway through than if they keep going. His movements quick and steady while he ties Bolger's hands above his head (tight but not too tight) and gags him to muffle the stream of curses because Bolger doesn't know how to be quiet at the best of times and the last thing they need is curious children peeking in to investigate the yelling.
Bolger twists and squirms, something between a token bit of protest and urging him on, while Pearson's hands slide over his body and not for the first time Pearson wonders what this would be like if they had a proper home and a bed and were completely alone so Bolger could scream the walls down if he wanted.
He talks about it while his body slides against Bolger's. His voice a low murmur, occasionally hitching when he gasps for breath because even tied up Bolger knows how to move and he's so damn tight and hot and it takes every bit of willpower that Pearson has to stop from screaming himself. Focusing as much as he can on gasping out the things he'd do (and just where he'd do Bolger) if their lives were neat and even like those people in the City.
"The... the shower. We'd have so much hot water and we'd stand in there for hours and I'd make you come until your legs couldn't hold you up anymore. And up against every wall. And the couch. And against the counter. There wouldn't be one place you could look at without... without thinking about...."
Bolger's entire body arches and a muffled groan escapes from behind the gag. The sounds sharp and eager and Pearson knows every single one for the desperate urging on that it is (faster faster more fuck fuck me fuck me harder harder harder yes) and there's no more talk. Just Bolger's body and the way he twists and jerks his hips just so and it's right.
Fucking.
There. The world gone dark. Just the muffled roar of his own heart pounding and greedy gasps for air and sweat and come and his mind is only just barely functioning enough for him to clumsily loosen the knots around Bolger's wrists and pull away the gag.
They're quiet for a while. Pearson carefully breathing in and out, concentrating on letting his heart rate return to normal and it's hard to say how long they lie like that. Maybe he dozes off for a bit, he's not quite sure. But eventually he opens his eyes again and shifts to face Bolger. Smiling a bit when he sees that the other man is quietly watching him as well. Maybe squinting a bit? It's hard to say.
"You know, I still don't think it's safe for you to be riding a motorbike if your eyesight is getting that bad."
"Shut up, Pearson. Just shut up."
Summary: Bolger always takes offense to any amount of concern shown. And far too many of their disagreements wind up ending this way.
Pairing: Pearson/Bolger
Rating: R (maybe NC-17? I personally don't think it's explicit enough for the later but YMMV)
Warnings: Sex with a side of light bondage. On the matter of the age gap, it works out to Pearson being in his late 20s while Bolger is in his early 20s. Nothing particularly improper, but Bolger does get mouthy in a "do you want me to call you daddy?" sort of way that may be squicky for some.
Disclaimer: YGO isn't mine, of course.
It's kind of hilarious that the one time I managed to write Pearson and Bolger porn is the one time I didn't actually set out to write it. This was supposed to be about Bolger's possibly lousy eyesight, dammit. XD
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It's one of those things that's terribly easy to overlook. The way Bolger squints just slightly and walks a few steps closer if he's being shown something that's not right next to him. His eyes narrowing not quite in thought, but more like he's struggling to make out exactly which cards are opposing him when he duels. And when they're driving somewhere...
Late one night Pearson finally asks about it. A gentle murmur next to Bolger's ear and he keeps one arm coiled tightly around the younger man's waist while he asks, "How long have you been having trouble seeing?"
Bolger's quiet for a minute, that edgy sort of silence that plainly indicates he does not want to talk about this under any circumstances hanging heavy between them until he squirms a bit and gives Pearson's arm a shove. Muttering, "I don't know what you're talking about," into the pillow as he twists away and Pearson sighs.
"It's kind of obvious and it's getting worse, isn't it? You're squinting at anything further than a metre away."
"I think you're exaggerating. And even if I am, what the fuck can we do about it? Are you going to dig through a trash heap looking for a pair of glasses that'll work? Good fucking luck with that."
"I don't know. But with that kind of attitude maybe you shouldn't be biking anywhere. You'll probably wind up putting someone in danger."
"Gonna take the keys away from me, 'daddy'?" Bolger sneers and Pearson's jaw clenches a little in frustration.
"Maybe I should. It might be good for you to cool it and not be able to run around wherever you damn well please. At the very least it would stop you from running someone over."
"Fuck you." The words come out as a vicious snap and Bolger twists back towards Pearson just enough to aim a glare in the other man's direction. "You do not get to both fuck me and treat me like one of the kids around here. First because I'm an adult and secondly because it's seriously kind of twisted. I don't care how much of a stupid, self-destructive teenager I was when I moved here. I'm not anymore."
"Could've fooled me, you're doing a good job of sulking like one right now. Either be an adult or be a brat, but you don't get to play both sides and then accuse me of having some kind of twisted kink." Pearson smiles, slow and almost wickedly. His voice dropping to a horse murmur as his lips brush against Bolger's ear. "You're the one who called me 'daddy' first after all."
"And you're still getting off on it. So who's more fucked up?"
"I don't know. How turned on are you right now, Jamie?"
"I'm not. Fuck. And quit calling me that. I've told you a thousand times...."
Whatever Bolger had been about to say suddenly falls into a muffled protest as Pearson's lips seal over his. A protest that shifts to a groan and Bolger's fingers twist and tangle in Pearson's hair, giving vicious little tugs and Pearson smiles against Bolger's lips. Lifting his head just enough to murmur, "Remember to keep it down. The kids...."
"Oh, fuck you. Fuck you so hard. I should scream until Security gets called because someone thinks I'm being murdered in here you arrogant pri...."
Pearson kisses him quiet again and Bolger's teeth sink into Pearson's lip hard enough that Pearson flinches back with a hiss of pain. Unable to stop himself from smiling as he pins Bolger's squirming body under his own, ultimately whispering, "You're the worst kind of brat," against the side of Bolger's neck.
"Gonna spank me?"
"See, I told you that you liked it too."
It's a game Bolger pretends he doesn't enjoy, but it's one they've played often enough that Pearson knows there will be more complaints if he stops halfway through than if they keep going. His movements quick and steady while he ties Bolger's hands above his head (tight but not too tight) and gags him to muffle the stream of curses because Bolger doesn't know how to be quiet at the best of times and the last thing they need is curious children peeking in to investigate the yelling.
Bolger twists and squirms, something between a token bit of protest and urging him on, while Pearson's hands slide over his body and not for the first time Pearson wonders what this would be like if they had a proper home and a bed and were completely alone so Bolger could scream the walls down if he wanted.
He talks about it while his body slides against Bolger's. His voice a low murmur, occasionally hitching when he gasps for breath because even tied up Bolger knows how to move and he's so damn tight and hot and it takes every bit of willpower that Pearson has to stop from screaming himself. Focusing as much as he can on gasping out the things he'd do (and just where he'd do Bolger) if their lives were neat and even like those people in the City.
"The... the shower. We'd have so much hot water and we'd stand in there for hours and I'd make you come until your legs couldn't hold you up anymore. And up against every wall. And the couch. And against the counter. There wouldn't be one place you could look at without... without thinking about...."
Bolger's entire body arches and a muffled groan escapes from behind the gag. The sounds sharp and eager and Pearson knows every single one for the desperate urging on that it is (faster faster more fuck fuck me fuck me harder harder harder yes) and there's no more talk. Just Bolger's body and the way he twists and jerks his hips just so and it's right.
Fucking.
There. The world gone dark. Just the muffled roar of his own heart pounding and greedy gasps for air and sweat and come and his mind is only just barely functioning enough for him to clumsily loosen the knots around Bolger's wrists and pull away the gag.
They're quiet for a while. Pearson carefully breathing in and out, concentrating on letting his heart rate return to normal and it's hard to say how long they lie like that. Maybe he dozes off for a bit, he's not quite sure. But eventually he opens his eyes again and shifts to face Bolger. Smiling a bit when he sees that the other man is quietly watching him as well. Maybe squinting a bit? It's hard to say.
"You know, I still don't think it's safe for you to be riding a motorbike if your eyesight is getting that bad."
"Shut up, Pearson. Just shut up."