In Need Of Forgiveness
Title: In Need Of Forgiveness
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jon/“Stephen”
Warnings: D/s; references to some kinky sex.
Summary: Stephen screws up big time.
Word Count: 2,274
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use. References to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: So I was perusing the anonymous fic meme requests and came across one about a Stephen sex tape getting out. This doesn’t follow the prompt exactly, but it’s how the bunny attacked me, so I hope it’s still enjoyable. I would’ve posted it there, but it got kind of long, so I figured it deserved its own post. Thank you for the beta, Abigail.
Stephen shifted in his desk chair, uncomfortable.
This was unusual, because his desk chair had been the most expensive one in the store, and was designed down to the last centimeter to optimize functionality and comfort. He should have been able to sleep in this chair-indeed, in the past, when he and his wife were still together and they fought, he sometimes had-and it shouldn’t have been in the least bit uncomfortable.
Of course, it wasn’t technically the chair’s fault. It was just easier to focus on the chair than on what was actually making him uncomfortable.
Jon hadn’t touched him in three weeks, either sexually or otherwise.
Normally, the two of them had a good sex life. They weren’t in their twenties, obviously, but they usually still had sex three or so times a week-sometimes more, depending on how things went. It’d been the same way since they’d gotten together, about eight months ago, and Stephen had grown to expect it.
But now he was being punished, all because of that stupid video.
It’d been mostly an accident. He’d wanted to make a video of him and Jon together, something they could enjoy later-it was supposed to be a surprise. No one else was supposed to know about it. He still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but before he knew it, the DVD had gotten out and then it was on the internet and being talked about on various cable news shows-Jon had been furious. Stephen didn’t remember ever seeing Jon that mad before, and especially not at him.
Stephen muttered under his breath, shifting again in his chair. He had to focus.
*
THREE WEEKS EARLIER
*
“Stephen!”
The level of anger contained in the two syllables of his name was enough to make even Stephen jealous. That was especially worrying, because it was coming from Jon.
Jon didn’t really get mad that often. He was very calm, and usually very difficult to provoke into an anger of this magnitude. And it was almost impossible for Stephen to make him that angry, even considering how Stephen could behave. He’d pissed Jon off before, of course, but this was something else entirely. This was unheard of.
Stephen knew he should be a little scared, and he was.
He was also more than a little turned on.
“Yes, Jon?” he asked, once the very angry man had finally entered his office. Stephen knew he was in huge trouble-not only was Jon rarely this angry at him, he never showed it in front of Stephen’s employees. What could he have done?
“Turn on a cable news station. Doesn’t matter which one,” Jon said, voice eerily calm. It wasn’t the natural calm way that Jon spoke; this calm was obviously a thin, over-stressed cover that was about two seconds away from snapping like a rubber band that had been stretched way past its limits.
Stephen was confused, but did as he was told; he flipped the TV onto Fox News.
“...the leaked footage is crystal clear: Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert are obviously engaged in a rather unsavory sort of sexual act...”
Stephen, horrified, let out a small squeak before frantically turning off the TV. He looked at Jon, who had crossed his arms and was fixing him with a very displeased look. Stephen swallowed.
“Now, Stephen,” he started, voice that same eerie calm, “I know I didn’t tape us, and I know I never distributed it to the media. So unless someone managed to sneak into our apartment and film us with obviously high-quality equipment without one of us noticing, that leaves one person. What happened?” The way Jon was looking at him made him feel compelled to answer honestly.
Stephen looked down miserably. “I...taped us,” he said quietly.
“Without asking me?” Jon asked incredulously.
“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Stephen winced. “When I lost the DVD, I figured one of us must’ve thrown it out, or something. I didn’t think anybody would find it!”
“And you still didn’t feel the slightest need to mention this to me at all? Even though you lost a recording of us on camera having sex? You know what the internet and media are like, Stephen! You’re a part of it, for God’s sake! What the hell were you thinking?”
Stephen mumbled his response. “I didn’t hear that. Try again,” Jon said.
“I wasn’t, I guess,” he said. “I’m sorry, Jon! It was an accident!”
“That doesn’t change the fact that this is out there now. What exactly did you tape, anyway?”
Stephen looked down. “Um. You remember that night, with the gag and the cock-ring and the-”
“Oh god, no,” Jon interrupted, burying his face in his hands.
“...yes.”
“Out of all the times we’ve had sex, you had to pick one of our kinkiest nights to release to the general public?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Stephen said, indignant. “Just...when you got all those toys out, I knew it was going to be good...so...” he trailed off. “I’m sorry.”
“Wouldn’t it be great if you being sorry changed anything?” Jon asked.
Stephen recognized the simmering anger still seething behind Jon’s eyes. It didn’t matter that Jon wasn’t shouting-not that shouting was Jon’s thing-because Stephen knew how angry the older man currently was with him. There was something about it that was worse than shouting could have ever been. Stephen had disappointed Jon, and he hated doing that.
“I’m in trouble.” He said this as a statement, not a question.
“Obviously.”
And before Stephen could ask what his punishment would be, Jon said, “No sex.”
“What?”
“We’re not having sex again for awhile. At least not until I can trust that you won’t secretly tape me without my permission. Actually, I’m going to be even more specific: no touching, period. That includes yourself.”
Stephen’s eyes widened. “What? For how long?”
“As of right now, indefinitely,” Jon said. “I’ll see how it goes. I want you to understand how upset I am about this, Stephen.”
“I do, Jon, I swear I do!” Stephen said. “I know I messed up, but-”
“Do you really, Stephen?” Jon snapped, calm veneer slipping. “Do you remotely know how it felt to walk into work today and find out that your best friend, your lover, the one person you trust and love above all else, betrayed your trust in such a humiliating and public way? You say it was an accident. That doesn’t change the fact that your actions hurt me.”
Stephen, for once in his life, was absolutely speechless.
Jon shook his head, obviously trying to control himself. “We’ll talk about this at home. Right now, I need to...not be here. I don’t want to say something I’ll regret.”
Stephen nodded mutely, watching sadly as Jon left. He had to fight the urge to start crying.
*
PRESENT DAY
*
Before the fiasco with the lost video, Stephen and Jon had always gone into work together, and were driven home together. Since then, however, Jon had insisted on leaving separately. Leaning into Jon’s embrace during the drive home after an especially trying day was just one of the things Stephen missed.
The touching embargo was frustrating in a sexual manner, of course, but Stephen missed the nonsexual touches just as much. He missed curling around Jon on the couch as they watched some bad reality show or Lifetime movie on the weekend. He missed Jon’s arms wrapped snugly around him as they slowly fell asleep to the rhythm of their own breathing. He missed the casual way Jon would stand just a little too close to him, their sides sometimes bumping.
Most of all, though, he missed the way Jon held him. He never suspected it’d be possible, considering Jon’s smaller stature, but it was. Jon always made him feel safe.
That wasn’t to say he didn’t miss the sex, because he did. The way Jon made him feel, the way he made sure that Stephen was pleased and happy, the way he turned him on so badly that Stephen was left just panting and writhing and wanting-he missed it all.
He missed things being normal. He missed his Jon. He missed being Jon’s, and everything that entailed.
When Stephen slipped the key into the lock for their place-thank God he didn’t change it, he thought, as he had every night for the past three weeks-and headed inside, he saw some food for him on the kitchen counter. He could hear the television on in their bedroom, so he knew Jon was awake. After heating up his dinner, he brought his plate into their room.
“Hi, Jon,” he said softly. Jon nodded in acknowledgement, but didn’t look up, and Stephen’s heart broke a little. “Thanks for the plate,” he tried again.
“You’re welcome.” He still didn’t look up.
The combination of that response and tone caused something inside Stephen’s chest to give a painful jerk. “I don’t blame you for hating me,” Stephen said quietly. “Do you want me to move out?”
That got Jon’s attention, because he looked over at Stephen, alarmed. “I don’t want you to move out, Stephen, and I definitely don’t hate you.”
“You’re so mad at me.”
“Because you violated my trust and privacy. You’re not supposed to do things like that. I never thought you would. I couldn’t even believe it, at first. I refused to. Not Stephen, I thought. Not my Stephen,” he said, looking directly into Stephen’s eyes. “There’s no way he’d tape us without even consulting me about it. He knows how private I am. He knows how much I dislike attention.”
Stephen looked down, ashamed, and Jon lifted his chin up with his index finger. “Listen. I’m upset now, but I’ll eventually get over it. I still love you, and I’ll still always be here for you.”
“Promise?” Stephen asked, hopeful.
“I promise. Come here.”
Stephen kept his internal celebration to a minimum as he curled in close to Jon on the bed, resting his head on his chest. Jon wrapped his arm around him, and Stephen sighed happily. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. “Does this mean we can have sex again?”
“Don’t push it, Stephen,” Jon said absently, attention apparently already back on the television.
“But Jon, it’s getting unbearable! I miss you, and yeah, I missed this, but it’s been forever since you last made me scream. The bruises around my wrists have completely faded!”
Jon shifted in bed next to him, and Stephen shot him a surprised look. “You miss it too!”
“Of course I miss it,” Jon said. “We had a good, regular sex life. But some things are more important than sex, and I’m still a little upset with you, Stephen.”
“Oh,” Stephen said, dejected. He sighed, resting his head back on Jon’s chest. “I am sorry, Jon,” he said, peering up. “Really, really sorry. I swear.”
“I know, Stephen. I know.”
*
ONE WEEK LATER
*
Stephen wasn’t sure if he should be upset or not. Since the talk he and Jon had had a week ago, they’d gone back to being driven to and from work together-but tonight was different. Jon had called him shortly before the show was set to start and told him that he had to get right home after The Daily Show, and would see Stephen there.
At first, Stephen was worried-what if Jon had started having second thoughts about not kicking Stephen out? What if he’d decided to get home first so he could change the lock?
He’d had to calm himself down at least four different times. Jon loves you, he’d think to himself. He wouldn’t do that. He loves you.
When he finally got home, in his excitement that his key still worked, he almost didn’t notice the changes that had been made. The lights were dimmed, there were candles everywhere, and sitting on the coffee table was a bucket of ice: inside was his favorite brand of champagne.
“What do you think?” Jon asked, walking out of the bedroom. He had on the only tuxedo he owned. (This was just one thing about Jon that Stephen still didn’t understand. How could a man only own one tuxedo?)
Stephen was hopeful. “Does this mean-?”
“It means we’re going to have a nice, romantic night together,” Jon said.
Stephen beamed, hugging Jon frantically. “Oh god, Jon, I was so worried, but I knew you wouldn’t just lock me out-you’re too nice-and this is fantastic and you look great-and oh god, I’m under dressed, should I change? I don’t want to ruin the atmosphere because it’s so nice and thank you and I love you and I’m glad you love me and thank you for not kicking me out!”
“Stephen, whoa, Stephen,” Jon said, rubbing his back soothingly. “Calm down. It’s okay.”
Stephen didn’t let go of Jon. “I love you. I’m sorry. I love you and I’m glad you don’t hate me.”
“I love you too, Stephen, and I’ve forgiven you. That’s what this night is about.” He leaned back, looking up into Stephen’s eyes. “Okay? So don’t worry.” He kissed him.
Stephen felt his eyes watering. “Okay.”
Jon kissed him again, this time clearly reassuringly. “Let’s get started on that champagne. The sooner we drink it, the sooner we can move on to other things.”
The way Jon said those last two words made Stephen shiver, and he nodded as Jon led him over to the couch.
Finally, he thought. I’ve missed him so much.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jon/“Stephen”
Warnings: D/s; references to some kinky sex.
Summary: Stephen screws up big time.
Word Count: 2,274
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use. References to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: So I was perusing the anonymous fic meme requests and came across one about a Stephen sex tape getting out. This doesn’t follow the prompt exactly, but it’s how the bunny attacked me, so I hope it’s still enjoyable. I would’ve posted it there, but it got kind of long, so I figured it deserved its own post. Thank you for the beta, Abigail.
Stephen shifted in his desk chair, uncomfortable.
This was unusual, because his desk chair had been the most expensive one in the store, and was designed down to the last centimeter to optimize functionality and comfort. He should have been able to sleep in this chair-indeed, in the past, when he and his wife were still together and they fought, he sometimes had-and it shouldn’t have been in the least bit uncomfortable.
Of course, it wasn’t technically the chair’s fault. It was just easier to focus on the chair than on what was actually making him uncomfortable.
Jon hadn’t touched him in three weeks, either sexually or otherwise.
Normally, the two of them had a good sex life. They weren’t in their twenties, obviously, but they usually still had sex three or so times a week-sometimes more, depending on how things went. It’d been the same way since they’d gotten together, about eight months ago, and Stephen had grown to expect it.
But now he was being punished, all because of that stupid video.
It’d been mostly an accident. He’d wanted to make a video of him and Jon together, something they could enjoy later-it was supposed to be a surprise. No one else was supposed to know about it. He still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but before he knew it, the DVD had gotten out and then it was on the internet and being talked about on various cable news shows-Jon had been furious. Stephen didn’t remember ever seeing Jon that mad before, and especially not at him.
Stephen muttered under his breath, shifting again in his chair. He had to focus.
*
THREE WEEKS EARLIER
*
“Stephen!”
The level of anger contained in the two syllables of his name was enough to make even Stephen jealous. That was especially worrying, because it was coming from Jon.
Jon didn’t really get mad that often. He was very calm, and usually very difficult to provoke into an anger of this magnitude. And it was almost impossible for Stephen to make him that angry, even considering how Stephen could behave. He’d pissed Jon off before, of course, but this was something else entirely. This was unheard of.
Stephen knew he should be a little scared, and he was.
He was also more than a little turned on.
“Yes, Jon?” he asked, once the very angry man had finally entered his office. Stephen knew he was in huge trouble-not only was Jon rarely this angry at him, he never showed it in front of Stephen’s employees. What could he have done?
“Turn on a cable news station. Doesn’t matter which one,” Jon said, voice eerily calm. It wasn’t the natural calm way that Jon spoke; this calm was obviously a thin, over-stressed cover that was about two seconds away from snapping like a rubber band that had been stretched way past its limits.
Stephen was confused, but did as he was told; he flipped the TV onto Fox News.
“...the leaked footage is crystal clear: Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert are obviously engaged in a rather unsavory sort of sexual act...”
Stephen, horrified, let out a small squeak before frantically turning off the TV. He looked at Jon, who had crossed his arms and was fixing him with a very displeased look. Stephen swallowed.
“Now, Stephen,” he started, voice that same eerie calm, “I know I didn’t tape us, and I know I never distributed it to the media. So unless someone managed to sneak into our apartment and film us with obviously high-quality equipment without one of us noticing, that leaves one person. What happened?” The way Jon was looking at him made him feel compelled to answer honestly.
Stephen looked down miserably. “I...taped us,” he said quietly.
“Without asking me?” Jon asked incredulously.
“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Stephen winced. “When I lost the DVD, I figured one of us must’ve thrown it out, or something. I didn’t think anybody would find it!”
“And you still didn’t feel the slightest need to mention this to me at all? Even though you lost a recording of us on camera having sex? You know what the internet and media are like, Stephen! You’re a part of it, for God’s sake! What the hell were you thinking?”
Stephen mumbled his response. “I didn’t hear that. Try again,” Jon said.
“I wasn’t, I guess,” he said. “I’m sorry, Jon! It was an accident!”
“That doesn’t change the fact that this is out there now. What exactly did you tape, anyway?”
Stephen looked down. “Um. You remember that night, with the gag and the cock-ring and the-”
“Oh god, no,” Jon interrupted, burying his face in his hands.
“...yes.”
“Out of all the times we’ve had sex, you had to pick one of our kinkiest nights to release to the general public?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Stephen said, indignant. “Just...when you got all those toys out, I knew it was going to be good...so...” he trailed off. “I’m sorry.”
“Wouldn’t it be great if you being sorry changed anything?” Jon asked.
Stephen recognized the simmering anger still seething behind Jon’s eyes. It didn’t matter that Jon wasn’t shouting-not that shouting was Jon’s thing-because Stephen knew how angry the older man currently was with him. There was something about it that was worse than shouting could have ever been. Stephen had disappointed Jon, and he hated doing that.
“I’m in trouble.” He said this as a statement, not a question.
“Obviously.”
And before Stephen could ask what his punishment would be, Jon said, “No sex.”
“What?”
“We’re not having sex again for awhile. At least not until I can trust that you won’t secretly tape me without my permission. Actually, I’m going to be even more specific: no touching, period. That includes yourself.”
Stephen’s eyes widened. “What? For how long?”
“As of right now, indefinitely,” Jon said. “I’ll see how it goes. I want you to understand how upset I am about this, Stephen.”
“I do, Jon, I swear I do!” Stephen said. “I know I messed up, but-”
“Do you really, Stephen?” Jon snapped, calm veneer slipping. “Do you remotely know how it felt to walk into work today and find out that your best friend, your lover, the one person you trust and love above all else, betrayed your trust in such a humiliating and public way? You say it was an accident. That doesn’t change the fact that your actions hurt me.”
Stephen, for once in his life, was absolutely speechless.
Jon shook his head, obviously trying to control himself. “We’ll talk about this at home. Right now, I need to...not be here. I don’t want to say something I’ll regret.”
Stephen nodded mutely, watching sadly as Jon left. He had to fight the urge to start crying.
*
PRESENT DAY
*
Before the fiasco with the lost video, Stephen and Jon had always gone into work together, and were driven home together. Since then, however, Jon had insisted on leaving separately. Leaning into Jon’s embrace during the drive home after an especially trying day was just one of the things Stephen missed.
The touching embargo was frustrating in a sexual manner, of course, but Stephen missed the nonsexual touches just as much. He missed curling around Jon on the couch as they watched some bad reality show or Lifetime movie on the weekend. He missed Jon’s arms wrapped snugly around him as they slowly fell asleep to the rhythm of their own breathing. He missed the casual way Jon would stand just a little too close to him, their sides sometimes bumping.
Most of all, though, he missed the way Jon held him. He never suspected it’d be possible, considering Jon’s smaller stature, but it was. Jon always made him feel safe.
That wasn’t to say he didn’t miss the sex, because he did. The way Jon made him feel, the way he made sure that Stephen was pleased and happy, the way he turned him on so badly that Stephen was left just panting and writhing and wanting-he missed it all.
He missed things being normal. He missed his Jon. He missed being Jon’s, and everything that entailed.
When Stephen slipped the key into the lock for their place-thank God he didn’t change it, he thought, as he had every night for the past three weeks-and headed inside, he saw some food for him on the kitchen counter. He could hear the television on in their bedroom, so he knew Jon was awake. After heating up his dinner, he brought his plate into their room.
“Hi, Jon,” he said softly. Jon nodded in acknowledgement, but didn’t look up, and Stephen’s heart broke a little. “Thanks for the plate,” he tried again.
“You’re welcome.” He still didn’t look up.
The combination of that response and tone caused something inside Stephen’s chest to give a painful jerk. “I don’t blame you for hating me,” Stephen said quietly. “Do you want me to move out?”
That got Jon’s attention, because he looked over at Stephen, alarmed. “I don’t want you to move out, Stephen, and I definitely don’t hate you.”
“You’re so mad at me.”
“Because you violated my trust and privacy. You’re not supposed to do things like that. I never thought you would. I couldn’t even believe it, at first. I refused to. Not Stephen, I thought. Not my Stephen,” he said, looking directly into Stephen’s eyes. “There’s no way he’d tape us without even consulting me about it. He knows how private I am. He knows how much I dislike attention.”
Stephen looked down, ashamed, and Jon lifted his chin up with his index finger. “Listen. I’m upset now, but I’ll eventually get over it. I still love you, and I’ll still always be here for you.”
“Promise?” Stephen asked, hopeful.
“I promise. Come here.”
Stephen kept his internal celebration to a minimum as he curled in close to Jon on the bed, resting his head on his chest. Jon wrapped his arm around him, and Stephen sighed happily. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. “Does this mean we can have sex again?”
“Don’t push it, Stephen,” Jon said absently, attention apparently already back on the television.
“But Jon, it’s getting unbearable! I miss you, and yeah, I missed this, but it’s been forever since you last made me scream. The bruises around my wrists have completely faded!”
Jon shifted in bed next to him, and Stephen shot him a surprised look. “You miss it too!”
“Of course I miss it,” Jon said. “We had a good, regular sex life. But some things are more important than sex, and I’m still a little upset with you, Stephen.”
“Oh,” Stephen said, dejected. He sighed, resting his head back on Jon’s chest. “I am sorry, Jon,” he said, peering up. “Really, really sorry. I swear.”
“I know, Stephen. I know.”
*
ONE WEEK LATER
*
Stephen wasn’t sure if he should be upset or not. Since the talk he and Jon had had a week ago, they’d gone back to being driven to and from work together-but tonight was different. Jon had called him shortly before the show was set to start and told him that he had to get right home after The Daily Show, and would see Stephen there.
At first, Stephen was worried-what if Jon had started having second thoughts about not kicking Stephen out? What if he’d decided to get home first so he could change the lock?
He’d had to calm himself down at least four different times. Jon loves you, he’d think to himself. He wouldn’t do that. He loves you.
When he finally got home, in his excitement that his key still worked, he almost didn’t notice the changes that had been made. The lights were dimmed, there were candles everywhere, and sitting on the coffee table was a bucket of ice: inside was his favorite brand of champagne.
“What do you think?” Jon asked, walking out of the bedroom. He had on the only tuxedo he owned. (This was just one thing about Jon that Stephen still didn’t understand. How could a man only own one tuxedo?)
Stephen was hopeful. “Does this mean-?”
“It means we’re going to have a nice, romantic night together,” Jon said.
Stephen beamed, hugging Jon frantically. “Oh god, Jon, I was so worried, but I knew you wouldn’t just lock me out-you’re too nice-and this is fantastic and you look great-and oh god, I’m under dressed, should I change? I don’t want to ruin the atmosphere because it’s so nice and thank you and I love you and I’m glad you love me and thank you for not kicking me out!”
“Stephen, whoa, Stephen,” Jon said, rubbing his back soothingly. “Calm down. It’s okay.”
Stephen didn’t let go of Jon. “I love you. I’m sorry. I love you and I’m glad you don’t hate me.”
“I love you too, Stephen, and I’ve forgiven you. That’s what this night is about.” He leaned back, looking up into Stephen’s eyes. “Okay? So don’t worry.” He kissed him.
Stephen felt his eyes watering. “Okay.”
Jon kissed him again, this time clearly reassuringly. “Let’s get started on that champagne. The sooner we drink it, the sooner we can move on to other things.”
The way Jon said those last two words made Stephen shiver, and he nodded as Jon led him over to the couch.
Finally, he thought. I’ve missed him so much.