Bait

[escapes]

Title: Bait
Author(s):escapes  
Artist:sarafim who was awesome and stepped in at the last minute and did this for the porn. =)
Rating: X to the nth power? It has been suggested the rating be GUH.
Disclaimer: I don't any of this, except the way the words are strung together.. Don't sue.
Characters/Pairings: Van/Jake who are also Borrowed Character/Original Character it'll make sense when you read it. Really.
Word Count: 11,874
Warnings: according to noelleleithe  "Rough sex, tattoos, filthy filthy thoughts, and dirty dirty boys."
Spoilers:None.
Summary: Jake had always been fascinated at the process that Van would go through to bring any character he played to life. Luke was his easiest transition from page to character, borne of long-term familiarity, but Jake never tired of watching the ritual.
Author’s Notes: This is the big bang fic I didn't know I was going to write when I signed up. It hit me one day and writing like mad for a week caused this to come out. freakykat  was kind enough to let me submit it as a second big bang story. Thank you to noelleleithe  who beta'd like it was her job....wait, it is her job. And thank you to freakykat  for the encouragement and emails of "Dude, MOAR NAO!" Love you ladies! p.s. you two, have I mentioned yet how sorry I am about the monster length nuke big bang? *sheepish* And last but not least, sarafim  for stepping in to do art for the low cost of reading the story first and being bought for porn. Thank you so much. It's awesome and I still haven't stopped EEEEEEEing over it.
Link to Art Master Post: HERE

Still riding the high of seeing the script he wrote coming to full color, three-dimensional life, Jake dropped his bag at the door and tossed his keys on the shelf that jutted out from the wall, beside another set that rested there.

Quietly, he treaded down the hallway of the apartment, not needing to turn on any lights. He knew every hitch in the floorboards and the location of each ‘I’ll put it away later’ pile. He listened for the sound of the television or the clink of dishes from making dinner for one. He heard nothing and continued forward to the living room at the end of the central hallway.

Light glowed softly from the corner of the room and Jake stopped in the doorway. A sliver of light ran a line down his long, lean body and illuminated the side of his face, down his torso, through the tattoo of a rosary looped around his wrist, continuing until it ran out of body at his boot and spilled onto the floor, aimless.

He watched the blond head bent over a sheaf of paper, memorizing the words of the other man who resided in the part of his mind labelled ‘work’, a pen clenched in his teeth as he flipped though pages to find the thread of his storyline.

Once found, the pen was shifted into the grip of his fingers, notes made in the one-inch margins with cramped and, Jake knew, crooked handwriting. The scratch of pen on paper was stilled as lines were read and Jake stifled a smile as he heard a snort of derision at the no doubt stupid decisions Luke Snyder was making in the seven episodes Van was going to film that week.

Jake heard a tapping noise and even though he couldn’t see the script in Van’s lap, he knew the tapping meant that Van was running Luke’s lines though his head, working on the right pacing and inflection to make the words come from Luke’s mouth and not his own. Once the decisions on delivery were made, the tapping stopped and the scratch of the pen started again.

Jake had always been fascinated at the process that Van would go through to bring any character he played to life. Luke was his easiest transition from page to character, borne of long-term familiarity, but Jake never tired of watching the ritual. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, content just to watch.

Van looked up from his script, motion in his peripheral vision having caught his eye. His heart leapt in his chest as his feet shot down from where they were folded in the chair to the floor, where the floorboards creaked at the sudden movement as he propelled himself to his feet. The script slid to the floor, papers landed splayed out in a fan, restrained from spreading across the hardwood like an oil slick by the fastener in the corner. His hand shot out and grabbed any available weapon, holding it in a defensive position.

Jake moved just as fast, stepped fully into the room, his hands extended in front of him in a placating gesture. “Woah! It’s just me! Shit, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The cell phone in Van’s hand clattered to the ground with a plastic-rattling thud. “Jesus Christ, Jake! All I could see was army boots and army pants and tattoos! I thought someone had broken in! Are you trying to shorten my life, Silbermann?”

Jake shook his head. “No. I kinda like you around to annoy the ever-loving shit out of me.”

The corner of Van’s mouth quirked up. “I’m not annoying, I’m awesome.”

Jake had reached Van and grinned as he bent down to pick up the script before it started settle into its curled position. “You are. Let’s try this again. Honey, I’m home!”

Van rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up. Get to the important stuff.”

The grin slid into a smirk as Jake stepped closer to Van and his arms came up to settle his hands on Van’s hips. He leaned in and was stopped in his tracks by Van’s hand on the middle of his chest. “Not that. How did filming go?”

Jake looked, for a split second, like a little boy that had been denied his favorite dessert, but before his features could settle into a pout, they radiated excitement at the remembrance of the past four days. “It was amazing! Seeing my words and idea coming to life right in front of me....I can’t even describe how huge of a high that was. The actors and crew were all so on top of their game, it was....I don’t even have the words for it. Honestly? Best four days of my life.”

Van smiled at the unbridled glee that was coming off of Jake in waves. “I wish I could have been there.”

Jake’s smile dimmed a little. “Hey, none of that. You had to work on your own movie. How did the last of the filming go?”

Van’s face bloomed with the same glee as Jake’s. “Great! So different from filming the show. The last day was intense, we didn’t finish until it was nearly daybreak. I spent most of this weekend catching up on sleep.”

Jake ran the pad of his thumb over the lingering remains of shadows under one of Van’s eyes. “I’m glad you decided not to put Soapfest on top of everything else. I would have had to bring you to the studio tomorrow and unleash your crankiness on innocents.”

Van rolled his eyes and smacked Jake’s shoulder. “Ass.”  His hand worked its way down Jake’s arm, fingertips skirting over edges of the black lines of Haken’s tattoos. “Bringing work home with you?”

Jake shook his head. “We filmed until we ran out of time. One of my scenes was the last one in the can, so instead of making everyone wait while I showered and changed, I just helped pack everything up and came home this way.”

Van nodded as his fingertips traced the shaded circles of the rosary beads trailing down Jake’s right wrist. His other hand raised to cup the side of Jake’s face and wondered how much of the weariness reflected there was makeup and how much was the accumulation of four long days and a long drive back to New York. His fingertips tingled as they brushed over the scruff that decorated Jake’s cheek and chin. “Hmm. I’m glad I get to see it in person.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jake turned his head slightly to catch one of Van’s fingertips in his teeth and bit into the flesh softly, before he released it. “What do you think?”

Van laved his bottom lip with his tongue and looked Jake over from the scuffed, dirt-streaked combat boots, all the way to the dirty looking, unkempt hair. It was a little disorienting, this man who was talking and moving like Jake, but still wearing the skin of the character he’d created. Van’s fingers seemed unable to stop tracing the edges of the black ink mapping Haken’s memories on Jake’s skin.

Jake watched as Van looked him over and felt the fingertips on his skin as they traced the edges of the tattoos. He kept watching as Van’s breathing slowed and deepened, the shift of his eyes from hazel to deeper, darker caramel. Jake moved further into Van’s personal space and closed his eyes as Van’s hand came and pulled the torn edge on the neck of his shirt over so that he could get a better look at the tattoo there. “I knew from reading the script that Haken’s fucked up. You and Nate did a good job on choosing these. You can tell from the ink choices that he’s seen and done a lot and all of it left its scars.”

Jake slid his hands from Van’s hips to join at the small of the other man’s back. “Thanks. I can’t wait for you to see it. When we were filming it felt right. You know when you’re just nailing something and everyone on the production is right on top of their game?”

Van nodded, “Yeah. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does it’s awesome.”

“I felt like that the whole time I was in Fitchburg. Like everything was just clicking into place.” Jake touched his forehead to Van’s. “Other things that have clicked like that have turned out pretty life changing as well.”

Van smiled and ran his own arms around Jake’s neck. He tilted his head up and kissed the underside of Jake’s jaw. “Click?”

Jake’s eyes fluttered closed at the sensation of Van’s lips on his neck and jaw. “Click.”

He smirked when his head was gently tilted to the side as Van found the tattoo on his neck. Goosebumps cascaded a path clear down to his shoulder as Van’s breath washed over the side of his neck, soon followed by his lips.

Van’s cheeks were a little pink as he pulled away enough to look Jake in the eyes. “I think I have a tattoo kink.”

Jake laughed softly and arched his hips against the hardness he’d felt growing on Van as he stood so close. “I noticed.”

Van’s cheeks grew a shade pinker as he ground back on Jake. “What’s your excuse?”

“You’re touching me.” Jake said it in a tone that left no doubt that there was a silent ‘dumbass!’ at the end of it His hands slid from Van’s waist downwards, grabbed his ass and pulled them into an even deeper grind against each other. “Maybe I have a kink for you having kinks.”

Van’s breath caught in his throat, his voice fell octaves deeper and his chest rumbled against Jake’s. “I’m going to go with that being a good thing.”

“Van?”

“Uhnnn...Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

Van opened his mouth, but before a sound could come out, Jake’s mouth was on his, his tongue wiping any thought from his head, as the tip of it circled the sensitive skin on the top of his mouth and short circuited his brain. He tightened his grip on the cotton of the sleeveless hooded jacket that was part of the costume Jake was wearing, as he felt one of Jake’s hands make its way up to the nape of his neck, close his fingers around the base of his skull and hold him in the kiss.

Not that Van wanted to go anywhere. He thought that staying right here for next few hours sounded just great. Maybe by then, he might have been able to find where his knees had wandered off to. Licking into Jake’s mouth, Van breathed in through his nose, smelled stale beer, cigarettes, the dust of a long drive and faintly, far below it all, the scent of pure Jake.

Jake wasn’t so lost in the kiss that he didn’t notice the inhale from Van and the immediate hardening that happened right after. He was beginning to think that there was more than a kink for tattoos going on here, but more like a kink for dangerous men with tattoos. He decided to test his theory, and hoped like hell he was right.

Jake pulled away from the kiss and both of them panted for breath. He made a show of taking a breath in through his nose and grimacing. “Woah, I must really stink. I’ve been wearing this for three days straight. I should take a shower, before I get you all dirty as well.” He stepped away from Van and tried not to smile at the panicked look on his lover’s face.

“NO!” When his near shout caused the sound of his voice to resonate in the room, Van lowered his voice. “No. That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

When he realized his theory was right on the money, Jake couldn’t resist. “You sure? I could wash all this dirt and the ink off...”

Knowing he was busted, Van narrowed his eyes at Jake as he stepped back against him from shoulder to floor. “Or, we could have some fun.”

Jake felt strangely proud of Van for stepping up, so to speak. He leaned in to kiss him deeply before asking, “What kind of fun?”

In a comfort level borne of familiarity, Van raised an eyebrow. “You really want to play the ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ game, when we could be playing much more interesting ones?”

Jake felt the want that had been pooling in his gut slowly start creeping outward. “Van...Haken’s not a nice guy, he’s not even bad boy, he’s batshit insane.”

Van nodded, looking serious. “Then give me the Haken that existed before he auctioned off his soul to the highest bidder.”

Jake closed his eyes and searched through his characterization of Haken. He found the line that ran through his character’s past and dove deep into it. When he thought he had enough to go by, he opened his eyes and looked at Van. “Do you remember the safe word?”

Van felt goosebumps break out all over at the intensity of Jake’s gaze on him. He had a feeling he was going to go into work tomorrow tired, sore and grinning from ear to goddamn ear. “Emma’s shotgun.”

Jake laughed softly. “I still can’t believe you picked that.”

Van grinned. “Well, can you see those words being used in bed? Not to mention you agreed to them, so you have only yourself to blame.”

Jake had to concede the point. “So if I’m going to be Haken, who are you?”

Van smirked. “I don’t think Haken is the type to get names and digits.”

Jake nodded, “True. I’m gonna go into the bedroom for a minute. Things start when I come back into the room?”

Van closed his eyes. “Yes.” When Jake moved away, Van grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “One more kiss.”

Jake pulled Van close and kissed him deeply. Their tongues moved from one mouth to the other as their hands fisted in material and fingers pulled and squeezed at napes of necks and curves of asses.

They pulled away, breathless. Van leaned his forehead on Jake’s shoulder and collected himself, trying to re-gel his brain. “Okay, go! Before we just end up saying the hell with it and necking like teenagers until somebody gets pinned to the couch and fucked within an inch of their life.”

Jake grinned and his eyes shone with really good memories. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Not tonight, dear.”

Chuckling, Jake leaned in for a last quick kiss and walked out of the room smiling.

Van laughed at the excited swagger of Jake’s walk, blatantly staring at his partner’s ass as he left the room. Once Jake cleared the doorway and Van heard him moving around in the bedroom, he looked down at his black jeans and plaid shirt over a henley and realized that would not do.

He heard Jake’s footsteps move down the hall to the kitchen and Van made his way into the bedroom. He pulled out his rattiest, stained pair of jeans and an 80’s Aerosmith t-shirt he’d picked up in a vintage store. Pulling the shirt on as he walked, he darted into the bathroom and reached into the vanity to find his kit bag of theatre supplies. When he pulled it out, his fingers sorted through it and found the containers of disposable colored contacts he’d nearly forgotten he’d had. He opened one of them and violet irises stared back up at him. He put the lens on the tip of his finger and used the other hand to open his eyelid enough to put the lens in. When he had both of them in, he blinked a few times experimentally and looked at himself in the mirror.

He was a little startled at how much just the change in eye color made. While the colored contacts hadn’t worked for the character he was developing at the time--Van tilted his head up to get a better look at the unusual color--they worked for this.

A person like Haken probably wouldn’t pick up someone who looked like Van, unless they had something about them that caught his eye. Violet eyes would catch just about anyone’s attention, Van thought.

Before he left the bathroom, he reached into his regular shaving kit and grabbed a tube and pulled his jeans down, doing some prep work that would hopefully save him from walking funny tomorrow. When he was done, he finished up his new look by mussing his hair, brushing it all forward in a different style than he’d worn recently and made his hair look darker than the honey gold it was currently dyed. He made his way to the door of the apartment and reached into the small closet there, pulling out a brown denim jacket, slipping it over his t-shirt.

He looked in the mirror meant for last-minute checks on the way out the door and smiled. He had the appearance of any entry level white-ish collar worker out for a beer and a hookup at his favorite watering hole, like someone who knew what he wanted and was tired of the same old, same old. He wanted something with just a little danger. Someone who was going to fuck him and fuck him hard, no agenda and no tender bullshit to deal with.

Van saw a tooled black leather cuff Billy had left the last time he’d stopped over after a gig sitting by their keys and snapped it on his wrist where his character, he’d started calling him Haken Bait in his head, probably had a watch on weekdays, a slave to the clock.

He looked himself over one last time and thought of the last time he and Jake had been out at a bar that wasn’t a work function and recalled the walk and swagger of the young, upwardly mobile office drones. He added just a little of the I’m looking to get fucked until I scream attitude. By the time he made his way down the hallway, his whole body had worked out the rhythm of the character in his head, from the strut, to the way he held himself standing still.

He smirked to himself, only two actors would put this much effort into a role play. He felt a tingle at the bottom of his spine as the sounds of Jake...no, Haken, that wasn’t the familiar pattern of Jake’s walk, came closer.

Van turned as the footfalls paused in the doorway. He knew it was Jake’s way of silently making sure Van was ready. Once he crossed that threshold, it was going to be Haken and Bait.

Van raised his head to look at Jake and saw the other man’s eyes widen a fraction as he took in the changes. His eyebrow arched up and a corner of his mouth twitched in appreciation. “Ready?”

Van took a breath and got himself back into Bait’s mindset. “Ready.”

Jake did the same, his walk moving from the graceful stride he usually had, into a predatory lope that reminded Bait of a jungle cat as it stalked its prey. Swallowing down the lump of anticipation that had lodged in his throat, Bait would have given his left nut for something to coat his suddenly dry throat.

“Here. You drink girly beer. I found a Heineken in the back, you can drink this piss beer.”

Bait took the bottle and raised it to his lips, letting the cool, amber liquid clear the parched feeling. He hoped that whoever had granted his wish for something to drink wasn’t going to collect right away. He looked at tall, dark and dangerous’ throat, adam’s apple bobbing as he took a long pull from his beer, and knew that he was going to need both nuts fully functional to make it through this night in one fucked-out piece.

He took another pull of beer, before setting it down on the table. “What’s your name?”

Haken’s eyebrow rose as a sneer marred his rough features. “You seem like the ‘oh god!’ type, so let’s just say that’s what it is.”

Bait felt the tingle of anticipation that was in base of his spine start moving outwards, and his jeans started to get tighter than they already were. He stood, pulled off his jacket and threw it over the coffee table to land on a chair on the other side. “Did you want to take off your...jacket?”

Haken looked down at the sleeveless, zip-front hooded jacket he was wearing and shot a contemptuous look at the other man. “What? You gonna make me fucking tea now? I thought you wanted to fuck, kid. Not dick around.”

Bait swallowed thickly again and his nerves buzzed with anticipation. “Kid? You maybe have a year or two on me.”

Haken smirked at the indignant look on the kid’s face. Maybe he was going to more of a firecracker than he’d originally anticipated. Excellent. “Just in age, kid. I’ve seen things that would make you shit your pants and run crying home to your mommy.”

Bait reached out with hands that were shaking with anticipation and want and started pulling up the shirts on the other man, his mouth watering at the chiseled abs and long, lean muscles he uncovered. He flicked his eyes upwards to meet grey blue that was nearly swallowed up by lust-blown pupils, but were still laser focused on everything around him. He lost eye contact for a second when the shirts were pulled off and thrown behind them onto the couch.

Haken found the kid’s eyes again when his shirts cleared his head. Fucking eyes were the only reason he was here right now. He’d never seen a color like them. He wanted to cut them out and stuff them in a jar and carry them around.

His gaze flickered down to the kid’s mouth. Well, maybe the eyes weren’t the only reason. The fucking kid’s mouth was made for cocksucking. A theory he was going to fucking test out right now.

Bait’s eyes skated over the tanned chest in front of him. Now that the shirts were off, other tattoos were uncovered and his fingers reached out and brushed over the lines of inked skin. His eyes were caught by the glint of light off of metal and his fingers moved over to the military issue chain holding metal tags.

Bait’s fingers traced down the chain to the first of what looked to be ten dog tags. Some were bent, some were older, some newer, some had blackish stains caked into the letters that could only be dried blood. Bait curled his fingers away from touching them, feeling like tall, dark and dangerous’ statement about seeing things that would make him shit his pants may have been an understatement. He felt like he was touching a shrine he had no business being near, but couldn’t help himself. Somewhere in that shrine was the piece of metal that could give him a name. He shook his head slightly. He would be lucky if the other man would still be here an hour after coming, never mind the whole night.

Leaning closer to the tattoo on the pec muscle in front of him, Bait lowered his head and flattened his tongue on the dark bud of a nipple, felt the skin grow and harden under the attention. Once it was hardened enough, Bait sunk his teeth into the raised skin and pulled a grunt from its owner. A hand clamped on the back of his head and held him there.
Haken dared to close his eyes for a second and enjoyed the pressure of teeth on his nipple and the shot of current it sent in an arc directly to his dick. He tugged on the kid’s hair to move him over to the other side of his chest, hissing in air as the kid gave it the same treatment.

As good as it felt, Haken pushed on the top of the kid’s head and steered him downwards. It was time to get the fucking show on the road and get those cocksucking lips down to business.

Bait felt the pull on his hair, took the not so subtle hint and started biting and licking lower on the torso in front of him, until his teeth were nipping and pulling at the trail of hair that lead downward and his chin was butting up to the musky, heated, mouthwatering prize that awaited him under straining zipper.

He trailed his fingers from where they were resting in the small of the other man’s back and made sure to rake his fingernails over the cut v-shape of his hips that led down to the button on his pants. He took a breath to pull back the adrenaline and set his fingers to work.

Haken’s head involuntarily snapped back as he grunted in surprise at being swallowed down to the root on the first descent. He was so fucking right about that mouth. He tightened his fingers in the thick brown strands on the kid’s head, until it had to have bordered on painful for him. Instead of the flinch he expected, a moan vibrated up his dick and lit his nervous system up like a fucking Christmas tree.

So the kid liked pain did he? He could fucking oblige that. In spades.

He tightened his fingers in the kid’s hair even harder and stopped the movement of his head. Those fucking eyes looked up at him and Haken could feel the challenge in them. He smirked. Oh kid, you have no idea what you brought home. He tightened his grip on the sides of the kid’s head and thrust his hips forward, watching his dick disappear between those goddamn lips again and again.

Bait dug his fingernails into the hips in front of him and bit half moons into the skin, as he found the other man’s rhythm and then used his hands to push him harder and deeper into his mouth. This was more like it.

Haken grunted as he felt the goddamn kid pushing him deeper into his mouth. It wasn’t often he was surprised, but somehow this kid had pulled it off. If the kid wanted harder, he’d fucking get harder.

Bait closed his eyes and opened up his throat further as every thrust nailed the back of his throat and would have triggered his gag reflex, if he’d had one. The earthy tang of musk was getting stronger as the spit-soaked flesh laid more heavily on his tongue. His cheeks hollowed out as he pulled deeply on each stroke, wanting more. He pulled off with an audible popping sound and gave the head a broad-tongued lick, before he moved down to mouth and suck at the other man’s balls.

Despite himself, Haken had to hand it to the kid. He knew how to work what he had. His hips ached with the need to thrust into that mouth again. Fucking thing was better than 90% of the snatch he’d had. Not that snatch was his first choice, but any fucking port in a storm. And those fucking eyes. The fucker knew how to work those too. Always looking up at him, watching his reactions and issuing challenges to go harder and faster. Fucking kid with the fucking eyes. Maybe he’d take the whole head with him as a souvenir.

The eyes were looking up at him again with a clear challenge in them. The kid released one of his balls with a pop and licked his spit wet, swollen, red lips. “Fuck me.”

Haken’s eyebrow rose in surprise. Well shit, look at chicken fucking little bein’ a big man. He gripped the hair at the crown of the kid’s head, yanked upwards and prompted the kid to scramble to his feet to keep his hair. When they were as eye to eye as they were going to get with the kid being shorter than him, Haken pulled him closer, until their chests were butting up to one another and he could feel the kid’s ribcage moving with every gasped breath. “Who said you’re in charge here, kid?”

Bait refused to back down from the intense gaze that was leveled at him. “Can you stop with the kid, shit? I’m gonna start calling you grandpa if you don’t knock it the fuck off.”

Haken could have sworn the twitch at the corner of his mouth was the beginning of a smile, if he didn’t know better. It had been too long since one had happened on his face for it to start now. “Princess work better for you?”

The eye roll and snort he got in response only needed the tiara and sash to seal the deal on the new name. Haken was reluctantly impressed by the balls on the kid. Not too many of his tricks would have even dared to talk back to him, or if they did they got a hand across the face as a reminder of who was in charge. His hand tingled at his side, but he quelled the instinct, slightly amused at the show of bravado.

Bait knew the eye roll and snort were just missing the stamp of his foot to prove the new name true, but shit this man was infuriating with the patronizing ‘kid’ bullshit. “Look, I know you don’t want names. I get that. Call me Bait, okay? Not my real name, but it’s one I answer to.”

The corner of Haken’s mouth twitched again. Bait? Was the kid fucking serious? “Bait...” Haken tried it out and found it didn’t feel too foreign on his tongue.

Bait nodded, “Yeah. Comes from my last name and my proclivity towards tall, dark and dangerous.” As he said that, he motioned towards the other man to prove his point.

Christ, the kid was a talker. He gripped him by the back of the neck and crashed their lips together, his tongue demanded that the kid...Bait shut the fuck up and get back to the mission. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed a trick. The kid knew how to use those lips and tongue for more than cocksucking.

Definitely very tempting to take the whole head with him.

Bait dug his fingertips into the hollows of hips, fingernails just long enough to bite into the skin. His hands flew off those hips a second later as they were slapped away and his shirt was being yanked upwards and off, barely giving him time to move his head.

The unforgiving hand was on the back of his neck again and wrenched him back against hard body and demanding lips. He wrapped his arms around broad shoulders and tangled his fingers in the damp strands at the nape and pulled the hair just enough to hear a grunt. The next second, Bait’s feet left the floor.

Haken used the leverage of having the kid...Bait’s arms around his shoulders and raised himself to his full height, supporting the weight of both of them. He kissed him harder, drilling his tongue as deep as it would go. Anyone with any sort of reflex would have been gagging under the assault, but Bait just pulled harder on his hair and opened his mouth wider. Shit, it was like the kid had a detailed schematic on what to do to turn him the fuck on.

He dropped both of them down to their knees. Enough of the dicking around. His cock was so hard he was tempted to see if it could drive through bone and flesh the way the knife in his pocket could.

Once they hit the hardwood, Haken gripped the back of Bait’s knees, pulled them out from underneath him and dropped him onto his back on the floor. His hands dove in for the button and zipper on the jeans and yanked them open roughly. His smile turned predatory when he saw there was no underwear to contend with.

Haken rocked back onto his haunches, grabbed the cuffs of Bait’s jeans and jerked them off with hard tugs that dragged Bait closer to Haken’s feet in little jumps. Once the denim cleared Bait’s feet, Haken whipped it behind him, not even hearing the thump as it fell onto a table and slid off onto the floor, bringing something heavy with it.

Haken’s own pants were still bunched halfway down his thighs, but he wasn’t bothered enough by them to take the time to pull them the rest of the way off.

He grabbed the back of Bait’s shins and used them to drag him even closer, pulling him across the hardwood with a squeak of skin on wood. Haken leaned down until their chests were touching and braced one hand on the floor beside Bait’s head, using the other to grab him by the back of the neck and raise his head enough to kiss him deeply.

He felt Bait’s thighs as they pressed into his hips and their groins ground together, the tug and pull of hard flesh on hard flesh. Fingers tangled again into his hair as Bait drove his tongue just as deep as he got.

Haken reached down towards his pocket and was stopped by Bait’s thigh. He slapped it and heard the grunt that came from Bait. He slapped again, harder. “Move your fucking leg.”

Bait opened his legs further, getting out of the way and in doing so, also arched up and ground their dicks together even harder. They both grunted at the sensation, Bait felt like his bottom lip was going to be chewed clear through by the end of the night. He’d never admit it, but the comment about him being the type that fell on ‘oh god’ as his default setting when being fucked within an inch of his life was true. Now that the gauntlet had been thrown down on that, he’d be damned if one goddamned g-word would come out of his mouth
 And because you've read far enough now, I can put the banner without giving too much away.



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PART TWO