005. The Fox and The Jailbird

[stealingmyway]

A hand rubs at the back of his neck, nerves stiffening his muscles like a tightened spring ready to launch. On one hand, he had a man to play with, to test the mentality of. On the other, he had a stranger with little proof of his social credibility. If things went sour, he'd only have a moment to take the revolver out of his cassock and do what

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[pocket_pal]

Degrading doesn't quite describe the whole of it, actually-let us all be thankful that Cameron is not telepathic.

Both of the convict's palms flatten against the wall, followed by his forearms, and one arm bends into a makeshift pillow for his head while the other touches things aimlessly. Bricks, soft hair, the fingers on his belly... they linger there the longest, tracing over knuckles and nails as though to memorize. Shouldn't be much longer now. He's just muttered something unintelligible, bitten at his own skin through the fabric of his shirt. Restless. His eyes open to stare blearily down at the bobbing head below, and through his teeth, around the pinched wrinkle of jersey cotton he grunts. His hand hovers over Cameron's skull, tense and trembling, fingers bumping gently against it as it moves. It would be so easy. Quick and hard, wait 'til just after you're done, and-

Eyelids squeeze shut, and his hand finds brick instead. The reward for this incredible act of restraint sneaks up on him not a moment later. There's a certain tilt to his hips, a hitch in the rhythm of his breath-jaw slack, brow knotted-and then, the least threatening noise he's made all day and night. It's the bastard child of a gasp and a wordless note of surprise. ...Cameron will certainly know what it means.

[stealingmyway]

What gets him every time is the feeling of the hot wash of white shooting to the back of his throat. Eyelids tighten in surprise, brows twitching to stabilize his expression. 'Mn' is all he can make before lips slide to the very bottom, nose nuzzling into curls of a faded brown. It's a slightly difficult maneuver, but he swallows that first shot of cum, tasting nothing but bitterness and the natural saline the 'tiny white soldiers' are packaged in. Once, twice, thrice, four times he swallows, once after each shot.

That shirt shrouded hand slips to the back, cupping the butt of the mans jeans and--...A thumb carefully edges around the shape of...something inside that back pocket. Too thin to be a normal knife. Too thick to be a credit card. That hand kneads at the mans rear as his orgasm drowns out most of the priests actions. Each flex of his hand offers a push from his thumb to try and get the unknown tool to the top of the pocket for further inspection. All he feels is the plastic sheath around the slim of metal before he knows. One finger pushes it right back down to where it originally sat.

After the last burst of white, Cameron slowly pulls back until the wet slip of lips from the head of Theodore's cock smacks with the end of that long pulling kiss. He wipes carefully at the corner of his mouth, cleaning up a bit before licking around the head of the calming length. That cleaning hand falls so casually, so smoothly into his pocket it's hardly worth a second thought. That bit of white is given to a pristine white handkerchief. A normal action.

"Mmm," His studded tongue washes over his lips, offering up a sweet-as-pie smile to the man in euphoria.

[pocket_pal]

Euphoria is right. His acknowledgement of that charming expression is, at first, only a one-eyed stare, the other being obscured by his own arm. That one eye disappears behind a slow blink, and only one side of his open mouth forms a lopsided panting smile. Needless to say, that subtle handkerchief business is completely lost on him.

Eventually he'll move, first dropping his arm away from the bricks to hang limp in its socket, then wiping his face with the very convenient shirt sleeve that just so happens to be right there. He's in no hurry to stand up straight, though, instead preferring to roll sideways into the painted wall, his weight supported mostly by his shoulder. He doesn't even bother to tuck himself back into his shorts or anything; it doesn't occur to him.
A deep and cleansing breath fills his lungs, comes out as a noisy huff. There, there's his sharp grin; this time it actually narrows his eyes into a pleasant squint. "Well... now I'm definitely goin' to hell."

[stealingmyway]

Only if you let it get t'you, ducky. Cameron lifts from his position slowly, aching knees screaming at him. He joins the man against the wall, tilting his head back to help him gather his calm and healthy breath. That lithe form pants quietly, lazily bringing a glance to the older man. 'Mn, lemme 'elp you with that."

Hands cover the drooping cock, delicately returning it to the warmth of the cloth confines. Just a little special placing and a quick zip and button and he finishes with a gentle pat of the jeans. The smile given is tired and slightly swollen from his tasks. "Twen'y 'Hail Mary's an' you'll be dandy, mate. Trust me."

[pocket_pal]

Well, that got a bit of a laugh-mostly at the idea of himself being anywhere near a rosary. Or even knowing the words of the prayer, at that. He could probably pull the first four off the top of his head, and replace the fifth with some arbitrary naughty word. Ahh, the little joys of the easily amused.

Before the patting hand leaves him entirely, Teddy snatches for it at the wrist, or around the palm and meat of the thumb, whatever he can catch. He gives a playful tug on the graceful limb (well, more like a yank), aiming to bring Cameron closer. Close enough to bump together, probably. In the meantime, he's grinning around his bottom lip and issuing what may technically be classified as a giggle, only lower, rumbling throughout his chest. ...Bump. "Y'know, blondie, I think I'm beginnin' to like you." Run! ...Nah. It doesn't mean anything coming from him, besides maybe showing up more often, whether he's wanted around or not.

[stealingmyway]

Wonderful. I'm makin' tons of friends, all with slightly suspicious behavior! Go me. Not like he wasn't helping this with teasing anything with a penis between its legs. Cameron hitches a breath as he was jerked forward, letting his momentum bring him right up and against the man. A hand cups the back of Teddy's neck for 'support', playing the feminine part of a loose-legged damsel to the rough-neck counterpart.

The giggle. Oh, dear Lord. At least it wasn't a twink giggle. He smiles again, revealing a sliver of those perfect teeth. "Well, at least one of us do." It's a slightly sad sounding reply. But, then again, most 'good men' would feel guilty after giving head to a person they hardly know.

[pocket_pal]

"Awww, don't be that way." Sure, now he's willing to comfort the boy. It's mostly for show, of course, but still-hell, he's even brushing stray hair back from Cameron's face. Touchy-feely all over. For a moment he looks somewhat serious, his eyebrows raised high. "You think Jesus never went down on nobody?" After a beat, his mouth pulls into a slow grin. And again with the chortling. Is this even the same man?

Cameron's hand, by the way, is still surrounded by warm, dry fingers.

[stealingmyway]

"Nice try, Teddy. I still feel bad." Only, y'know...Not. The man ignores the grip on his good hand, nuzzling slighting into the hand giving care to his bleached tresses. The smile is at least sweet enough to be taken as relaxed. "I think confession will be rather interestin' t'morrow. Poor Pastor Franklin."

So skilled is the conman that blushing to complete his guilty look is hardly an issue. A hand rubs at the back of his neck, trying to coax the other to get distracted enough to let go of his gunhand.