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The Unknowing was next week. Jon was sure everyone could feel it, to the way Martin's eyes passed over documents, Daisy idly fiddling with her gun, and the way Tim spent long hours in the archives. Jon was sure he looked no better than his co-workers which was why, despite the fact public events weren't his thing, he took Basira's offer on a night out drinking.
That had begun four hours ago. Melanie hadn't bothered coming, Martin left when it had started to become more crowded, and finally, Daisy and Basira left for the night.
That left Jon with Tim. Lovely.
It wasn't that Jon didn't like Tim- despite what his behaviour might say. It was just that Jon was never good with people, and Tim was frustratingly so. It was a trait Jon found both hated and desired. He realised, however, there was a much worse side to Tim. One that was disinterested in starting up conversations. This left poor, introverted Jon to fill the silence between them.
"You know," he began, voice gentle with a slight slur from the alcohol, "when we first met back in the research department, I had a thing for you. Sort of?" Tim perked up slightly. He still looked exhausted, but the ghosting attempt of a smile crossed his face.
"Really?" Jon could tell Tim was prompting him to continue. Just for tonight, he decided, he could feed Tim's ego a little bit. Even if he knew it would horrify him once he was sober enough to make good decisions
"Mm," he nodded, looking at his drink. "I- well, when I saw you, I immediately liked your fashion. It's a bit... garish for my taste, but its coherent." Tim laughed,
"Garish? I wore... like, what? A bright pink shirt once. I think I dyed my hair purple for like a week?"
"That's what I meant- garish."
"Pfft, well thanks, boss, but compared to what I wear now-"
"No, no. They were garish back then. An eyesore today."
"Jeeze, if I didn't think you hated my guts, I'd almost think you wanted me out of my clothes." A splutter came from Jon at this- one filled with indignation.
"Timothy! I-"
"Ooh, now you're using my full name. You're really horning me up now, boss." Tim leaned closer, and Jon's vigilance rose. Briefly of concern, then of the closeness of their chairs, and finally, of what exactly made him crush on Tim all of those years ago. Tim was aesthetically pleasing. Even now, with strewn hair and pockmarks from Prentiss, there was a distinct... charm to him. That paired with his humour and natural charisma... well, Jon could imagine he found ease in hooking up with people.
"Too much?" Ah, it seemed Jon was dozing off.
"No, no not at all," he said quickly, sitting a tad bit upright as Tim leaned back. While he wasn't certain, he swore he saw Tim's gaze lower and roll pleasantly over his body. "I just, well, people don't exactly get close to me these days for good reasons."
"Right." There was a brief pause and Jon realised he probably just ruined the mood. If there was one. He went to apologise, but Tim continued, this time with a soft, teasing tone. "So should I ask before I touch you?" Jon paused. Was... Tim mocking him? He considered this for a moment before answering.
"I... wouldn't mind? That- that would be lovely, actually." Tim snorted but didn't throw any other mean comments his way. Instead, he obliged.
"Well, do you mind if I get closer, boss?" There was a certain tone to Tim's voice that made Jon pause. Flirtatious, perhaps? He nodded, unsure where exactly this was leading.
"I mean, I don't know why you'd want to. But, sure." With that, Tim turned on the swivel chair to face Jon. Jon, unsure exactly what he was meant to do, mirrored Tim and interlocked their knees. Tim leaned in closer once more, this time in being much more... intimate. He took a slow breath and sipped his drink to keep his pulse down.
"Something distracting, boss?" Tim winked, a look that suited him finely.
"No," he mumbled over his glass, becoming acutely aware he was being played with. Right- Tim liked doing that. This was his sort of style. Tim hummed and took a sip of his drink- a brightly coloured cocktail that matched his floral button-up.
"You know, it's funny that you mentioned having a crush on me when we met..." Tim spoke slowly, eyes drifting across Jon. He held his breath for a moment. "When we first met, I hated your guts."
Ah.
Not exactly where Jon thought this was going. Before Jon could drunkenly defend his honour, Tim continued. A small smile was worn on his lips as if he knew this would piss off Jon. "Your over-the-top accent, the way you held yourself so high... Hell, I don't even have a degree, and I could tell you had no idea what you were talking about half the time." Jon's brows knitted together and he scowled. Yeah, Tim definitely knew.
"Excuse you, I-"
"The expression you're wearing right now," Tim said pointedly. "All of it just made me want to shut you up. Kiss you, or something. Something dumb to really shut your stupid face up. I thought about pushing you against the desks and kissing you until you didn't know what to say. It got me through your worse days in the archives." Jon swallowed heavily. What was he meant to say to that?
"You... you thought about that? Think about that?" Tim hummed in confirmation.
"Mostly when I actually have to put up with your crap. Can I touch your face?" The question was so sudden Jon could do little more than just nod. Tim reached up, larger hand cupping his face and his thumb running over his cheek.
How was Jon meant to react? Angry? Upset? Offended? Because right now, as he sat in kissing distance of Tim, he was finding it awfully difficult to be any of those things. He was only upset that a similar fantasy began playing in his mind. "You're cute like this," Tim continued, leaning closer. Jon could smell the alcohol on his breath- a concoction of bitter and sweet. "I think I'd be able to stand you like this. But I do wonder what else I could do you to keep your mouth shut."
"You could," Jon started, hesitating as he briefly realised how absurd this was. "You could kiss me?" His voice came out awkward and abrupt compared to Tim's smoother one.
"Could I?" Oh, now Tim was just teasing him.
Not giving himself a chance to be worried, he leaned forward and connected their lips. A small noise came from Tim, but he wasted no time returning it. It was sloppy. Drunken lips struggled to meet drunken lips which were only used to spitting accusations at each other. But Jon liked it- craved it. He pulled Tim closer, their knees now meeting the other's hips. The hand that was on his cheek had begun running through his hair, and his own hand began curiously running against Tim's hip. When they pulled away, Jon suddenly found his lips all too lonely.
Tim leaned back and Jon watched him with hazy eyes as he shot his own drink and set it on the table. "My place?" Without thinking, Jon nodded and drank his own, deciding not to risk the embarrassment of trying to shot his own.
The second his glass was back on the table, Tim was leaning in again and kissing him. Hard. This time Tim's tongue pressed its way into his mouth and he struggled to return it.
He hadn't kissed anyone like this since university, and that was only drunken nights after performing. Their kisses became quicker, and at some point, Jon realised Tim had practically made his way into Jon's lap. Bulge pressed against Jon's inner thigh, hands in his hair, and heaving chest against his own. Jon hadn't ever kissed another guy- not like this at least, and whether or not he was actually doing well, he was thoroughly enjoying it.
Then, Tim pulled back and threw a cursory glance at his phone. "Uber's here, come on," and with that, he pulled himself from Jon and began heading back through the club to the door. Jon stood there, bewildered for a moment.
The Uber?
Oh.
Right.
Tim's place. That probably meant sex. A sudden nervousness budded in Jon's chest and he half considered disappearing into the crowd and waiting until morning to leave.
No, no. He agreed to this. He could do this. Getting up awkwardly from his chair, and now also painfully aware of what was the beginning of a boner, he followed after Tim and to the Uber.
The trip back was awkward. More awkward than Jon could have ever imagined. He didn't do this, and he wasn't exactly sure how to go about the conversation. 'So how do like having sex?' seemed a bit too on the nose for the back of an Uber in London. Any small talk had escaped Jon, and he half considered the probability of his survival if he jumped out the window and did a tuck and roll.
Considering he weaselled his way out of death time and time again, his chances felt good.
But, Tim seemed calm.
Not too surprising. He probably did this every weekend. Jon focused a little more on his face, noticing the eye bags and stress lines. Not calm, he realised, but... pliant. Had they had the best sex in their life or died horribly in this car, he felt it would be all the same to Tim. Jon hesitated for a long moment before reaching over and resting his hand on Tim's thigh.
He looked surprised, but simply grinned and rose his brows. The grin didn't reach his eyes. Jon decided that, even if he wouldn't have sex with Tim, the least he could do was give him a handjob. Jon knew how to do those.
When they finally arrived at Tim's embarrassingly familiar home, Jon watched anxiously as Tim stumbled with his keys and then opened his front door.
"Home sweet home. Try not to judge too much? I haven't exactly been in the cleaning mood recently." With that, Tim walked in with Jon following shortly behind him.
"I'm not that much of a snob, Tim. I know how to be..." he trailed off as they entered.
This place was a mess. Clothes piled on the floor, dishes and paper dishes taking up the counter. One trash bag by the door and a second in the bin. "...polite. But, this place does need a bit of a tidy-up." He carefully stepped over some packaging to follow after Tim, who seemed to have no issue trudging his way through take-out boxes. He noticed that the couch already had a pillow and blanket on it.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. It just seems sorta pointless with the whole The Unknowing thing next week." Jon bit his lip deciding right now wasn't the time to scold Tim for not having more faith in them.
Entering Tim's room, he did his best to remain neutral. An abandoned collection of tissues in the corner was not lost on him, and there was even more take-out in here. It was cleaner than the rest of the house, but... well, as long as the bed was clean.
As he stood in the doorway watching Tim make his bed, that same nervousness bubbled up.
"Just... just so you know, I haven't really... done this before." He wrung his hands together anxiously. Tim didn't even look back,
"Yeah, I figured. It's fine, you're not the first guy I've fucked who hasn't gone down on another guy before. If you want-"
"No," Jon said quickly, face flushing quickly. "I mean- I mean, like, all of this." That made Tim stop, brow raised.
"...Hooking up?"
"No," he groaned, face darkening as he looked to the window for moral support. "I mean... sex. I've never really had sex with anyone. At all. Of any gender." Christ, that was painful to spit out. And probably made Tim totally lose interest. Maybe he could clean his house, or...
"Huh. Really? I mean, I get you're not exactly... a people person." Jon scoffed, that was putting it lightly. "But, well, you're exactly some people's type. Small, nerdish, a mess..."
"Yes, yes, I get it, Tim. Thank you," he said, scowl returning. Much to his displeasure, that seemed to summon Tim's grin back to the scene.
"Right, well, that's not really an issue? I mean, I have condoms..." Ah, right, condoms. Something Jon had completely forgotten about until right now. "And lube. Have you ever done a blowjob before?" Jon blushed again.
"Ah, no... I have not. I was-"
"Alright, well, better learn quick. That's where we're starting." Jon wasn't entirely sure how to react as he watched his co-worker begin unbuttoning his jeans.
They were tight enough to leave little to the imagination- especially, erm, tool-wise, but Jon still found himself intrigued. Tim shimmied his pants and shoes off, and then pulled his pizza-patterned jocks down.
Well, he wasn't sure what he was expecting. Both of them were similar down there- so to speak. Tim at least appeared more endowed than him, except he wasn't circumcised. It now laid limp as Tim sat on the edge of the bed and spread his legs. "Come on, get down. As much as I like being ogled at by my boss, it isn't exactly sucking my dick."
Should he say no? He had only intended to give him a handjob. But now he was curious, and... Christ, he couldn't believe he was doing this. Perhaps tomorrow he could blame it on the alcohol. Walking hesitantly closer, he dropped to his knees and shuffled until he was close enough to... well, suck Tim's dick. "Can I put my leg on your shoulder?"
"Of course, just, ah," Jon leaned to accommodate the weight of Tim's leg, his thigh now against his cheek. "How do I go about..."
"How bad is your gag reflex?" Tim asked, thankfully carrying the conversation.
"Terrible? As in, ah, it doesn't work. I don't really have one." Was that what he meant? A noise of surprise left Tim.
"Really? In fuckin', we call that a great gag reflex. Just, make sure to... I don't know, tap my thigh if that changes. Now, just suck my cock. Keep all teeth kindly away from my dick, and start slowly. I'm sure you'll do great, boss."
"Right, I appreciate the optimism."
Moving hesitantly, Jon picked up Tim's length and awkwardly wrapped his lips around it. He moved carefully, taking it in until his nose reached Tim's abdomen. He decided, right then, that Tim must've been far bigger than himself as he suddenly felt massive in his mouth.
"Just like that. Now, just slowly bobbing your head," Tim said, sounding slightly breathless. Jon spared him a glance and found himself endeared. Tim was a sight, to say the least. Flushed, eyes lidded, and with a genuinely relaxed expression on his face. Jon began bobbing his head slowly, tongue running down the underside of his cock. More, gentle noises came from him, hands twisting through Jon's hair.
Much to his displeasure, as Tim's dick got harder his mouth was forced open and drool began pooling at his lips. He watched as Tim looked down, eyes widening briefly. "Shit, that's a good look on you. Christ, uh, stay- stay still okay? I think I can take this on." Jon's brows furrowed but he obeyed. Tim's hands wrapped tightly through his hair and,
ah.
Jon's head was held painfully still as Tim began slowly grinding his dick into Jon's mouth. Initially, it was short, explorative movements until he began pressing in deeper. Now fully hard, Tim's dick had no issue hitting the back of Jon's throat, and... and deeper.
His entire body tensed as the foreign feeling of dick violated his throat. He whined, legs shifting uncomfortably as Tim pressed in deeper than he thought possible.
"Shit, that's not too much for you, is it?" Tim mumbled, dick stilling painfully just beyond Jon's throat. He couldn't exactly answer or shake his head, so he did his best a whine and glared up at him. Something seemed to change in Tim's eyes. "I hope it is," he muttered, suddenly doing a small, sharp thrust into Jon's throat. He tried to gasp, but his throat was completely filled with Tim. He was so close to taking all of him, if only Tim just- "I hope this fucking hurts. Shit, boss, I hope this feels like the fucking worst for you. Because you know how hot this is? Being above you, watching your throat move around my dick and you drooling like an animal?"
Jon's hands rose up to Tim's thighs and grabbed onto him, trying to balance himself. "That's right, take my cock. I've wanted to do this for so long." Finally, his dick started inching further down his throat. He tried swallowing or breathing, but all he could do is sit there and watch Tim's face. "Choke you on my cock, make you struggle, ruin your stupid fucking face. If I didn't want to break that little ass of yours first, I'd fill your throat right now." Jon's nails dug tighter into Tim as his heart began pounding. Finally, Tim's full length was shoved down his throat, drool dripping down his chin, and his lungs begging for air.
He didn't even process Tim's words, just the feeling of his hot cock violating his throat. Relief flooded his brain as Tim began pulling out. However, he was only gifted a breath of air before he was filled again. Slow, steady thrusts filled his throat and left his vision swimming and clinging to Tim's thighs for dear life.
When did he become so painfully hard? Around the tenth thrust in, with each one getting rougher and hitting just as deep, Tim found his gag reflex.
In a panic, he tapped his thigh and his throat involuntarily flexed around him. For a moment Tim hesitated and Jon worried he'd just keep going and ignore him. But steadily, Tim pulled his drool-covered cock out and let go of Jon.
He shakily panted, throat aching and mind swimming with clarity. When he finally caught his breath, he realised Tim still hadn't cum.
"Are- are you not done?" He asked, cringing at the hoarseness of his voice.
"Not even close," Tim mumbled, eyes opening properly. "Strip and get on the bed. We need to prep you before I fuck you." Ah, right. That part.
Jon stood- painfully reminded of his boner, and faced away from Tim to undress. Was this a good idea? He should probably stop- he didn't want this... did he? Jon began removing his shirt, a small frown on his face. He didn't not want it, either... he was, undoubtedly, curious. He just never thought of himself having sex. Yet, here he was, about to let Tim of all people fuck him.
To hell with it.
He might never get a chance after this. Finally kicking his pants off, he turned back to Tim, only to realise he was already completely bare and staring at him. An embarrassing noise of surprise left him and he stepped back.
"Er- Tim! You can't just, sit there and watch me!"
"What else was I meant to watch? The clouds? Come on," he patted the spot next to him. Begrudgingly, and perhaps a touch shyly, Jon crawled onto the bed and next to Tim.
He looked good.
Even though Jon could see where some weight had begun creeping in around his waist and thighs, it wasn't hard to notice that Tim took good care of his body. He could also see the marks from the worms, making him feel somewhat better about his own.
"Come on, on your stomach, and put your legs up." Tim began moving, seeming uninterested in checking out Jon. He awkwardly followed directions, splaying himself out.
"Like- like this?"
"No, legs up," He let Tim adjust him and Jon was horrified by his new position. He now had his ass up in the air and face buried into the pillow like some sort of... kinky yoga. He flushed, hugging the pillow for dear life as Tim spread his legs and gave himself access to Jon's... erm, entrance. "You have to relax unless you want me to hurt you," He said, running his fingers against Jon.
Jon sucked in a breath, but nodded and began relaxing. Right, he could do this. He was already too far in to stop, anyway. "Good boy, boss," Tim chuckled, "relax like this and you'll stretch open nicely."
"I do not need the demeaning nickname... a-ah, was- was that your tongue?!" Jon said, tone a bit higher than he intended as something wet ran across his hole.
"Mm, yep. Want to get you nice and wet. Sorry, should've asked. Can I start fingering you?"
"Yes, I suppose. but don't-" he stumbled over his words as a finger began pressing into him. "I saw the bottle of lube on your bedside table, Tim. I-I," a little breath left him as he felt Tim reach knuckle deep into him.
Were his fingers really that big? How big was his dick going to be?!
"Yeah, I have lube. But to be honest I find it way hotter loosening you up raw like this." Jon gasped as he felt Tim press his finger against his insides. "Really makes you work for it, you know? Consider it revenge for all the bullshit stalking you pulled on me before."
"I said I was sorry for that! I was- ffffuck," Jon gasped, body unsure whether to tense or relax as Tim's finger hit something deep inside of him.
"Bingo." Tim sounded smug as his finger abused that spot inside of him, absolutely driving Jon up the wall.
"Tim- don't- f-fuck," Jon tried to form some sort of sentence or command. Was this his prostate? He didn't realise it would feel this good. Or was Tim just skilled at this? He only had a moment to breathe as his finger pulled out, only to be immediately replaced by two. That hurt.
"Sorry boss, but your apologies a worth fuck all. Luckily, that's what I have this for. A bit of fun revenge." Jon whined, face scrunching up. Any comments he thought to make ran directly from his brain down to his dick.
"I'm trying to be a decent person, Ti...." he trailed off, those too-big-fingers once again hitting his P-spot. "Tim, good lord- stop,"
"Now that's what I want to hear. You saying my name like it's the last one to ever come out of your filthy mouth." Jon swore he saw white as Tim pressed harshly on that spot, pain and pleasure jerking against his dick.
"Come on, one more time and I might let you have lube for the next finger."
"I'm- I'm not begging for lube! I'm not some-" he sucked in a breath, feeling the fingers burry against him again. "I'm not a common whore you picked off the street," he finally finished.
"Mm, you're not?" Jon swallowed thickly. "I mean, we started a the bar, didn't we? And now we're both drunk." A surprised whine left Jon as Tim's hand suddenly grabbed his hip. The grip was strong, possessively moving down his waist as if he were an object to admire. It didn't help the fact Tim began abusing his hole with sharp scissoring motions. "You didn't even hesitate to come back to my house, you got on your knees and sucked my cock like a pretty little whore." Now his thighs were shaking and he needed any sort of touch on his cock. "Hell, I used your throat like a fleshlight, and you took it. Drooling all down yourself and whining. I should've taken a photo or something- you were fucking gorgeous like that. But, since you can't properly beg I may as well get one of my toys to put that mouth to use."
The whine Jon made was absolutely humiliating.
No- he was not turned on by the idea of his throat being filed by a toy while Tim fucked him from behind... another whine left him, this time as he felt Tim's fingers pull out.
"Last chance to beg, boss." What did...
"Ah, Tim! I wouldn't be able to handle three fingers without-" He started to push himself upright before he was shoved down into the pillows, effectively muffling him.
"Nu-uh, too bad." Jon did his best not to tense as he heard Tim spit. Then, just as promised, and painfully so, three fingers began pushing their way into his ass.
He cursed, trying and failing to escape Tim's grip. Instead, he was forced still as his ass was slowly torn open. He shakily panted into the pillow as Tim pressed deeper and deeper into him. Finally, Tim's palm reached his ass and... and Jon was painfully hard. It hurt- it didn't even feel good, but... Jon was full. Fuller than he had ever been.
"See? That wasn't too bad, was it?"
"It hurt," Jon disagreed, voice still muffled. However, he finally got a chance to breathe as Tim's hand left the back of his head and scraped down his chest.
"Well, duh. That's what happens when you get fucked open without lube." Jon wanted to complain, but Tim had already begun slowly fucking his fingers against his prostate. "Luckily, I'm nice enough to put lube on my cock when I fuck you. Aren't I so nice, boss?" He rolled his fingers hard against Jon's prostate as he said his name, nearly making him cum on the spot.
"T-Tim, slow down! If- if you keep doing that, I'm going to... to ejaculate before you." Tim laughed and slowly pressed his fingers against him.
"Ejaculate, hm? Oh well, don't care. You can cum your pretty little heart out- we're not done 'til I'm done." Jon wasn't entirely sure how well that would go since he'd never cum more than once at a time. But any concern left his mind as he grew closer and closer. Torn between letting himself cum now or resisting, his choice was torn away as the three fingers left him. He whined, head turning to dazedly look at him.
"Mm? Tim, why'd you stop?"
"That's a cute face," Tim said, eyes studying Jon for a second before leaning over. "Anyway, as fun as it is to watch you squirm around my fingers like some pathetic bitch, I think you're ready to get dicked down now."
Right. This is what this was all leading up to. He waited anxiously, trying not to tense up too much. Finally, he felt the cool texture of rubber press against his ass, making him gasp. "Relax, Jon. You're going to break my dick if I put it in there." Jon huffed but did his best to relax as much as he could. "Can I start pushing in now?" Wordlessly, he nodded. He didn't stay wordless for long.
"Shit," he whined out, body shaking slightly. "You're- you're big. F-fuck. Tim, I- I don't think I can take you." Then, Tim spoke in a way that nearly made him cum on the spot.
"Fuck I hope so." There was that same tone from before, but deeper. Needier. A tone that sounded feral. A pathetic noise left Jon as he felt Tim's head finish sinking in past his asshole and continue deeper. He thought Tim would've been focused on pinning him down, but instead, his hands roamed and groped him. Over his stomach, over his thighs, his nipples, his ass, his neck. He didn't miss the way Tim's fingers ran over the scar Daisy left and gently pressed against the pockmarks. It felt more intimate than he expected Tim to be.
By the time Tim's cock was fully inside of Jon, he was shivering and stopping himself from fucking back on his dick.
"There- there we go," Tim panted and began slowly pulling back out. With slow, uneven movements, he began fucking into Jon. It started slow, with small, private noises between the two of them, before quickly picking up. "That's it, you're just like a little whore, aren't you Jon? Taking my- my cock," he cursed, the sound of his balls hitting against Jon's ass filling the room. Jon couldn't stop a moan.
"N-no, I'm, I'm not a whore. I-I just,"
"Don't fucking deny it," Tim hissed, a particularly rough thrust sending Jon into a fuzzy bliss. "Look at you, ass spread on my dick, drool on your face- you know I've fucked women exactly like this? We've been drunk- or high off our asses, come back here, and I've bottomed out in their cunts in this exact position?" Jon moaned louder than he wanted to.
"That doesn't mean,"
"It means you're exactly like them, Jon. My little fucking whore for the night. Sure, tomorrow we'll both wake up and pretend none of this ever happened, but right now? You're getting fucked by me, and I'm going to use you as if I paid for you right off the fucking street." Jon's dick twitched hard at that.
"Tim," he whined, clawing at the pillows. His palm felt hot and firey. "F-Fffuck, Tim, don't- don't say that I'm, I'm your boss, do-" His words drawled as suddenly he was flipped sideways.
One of his legs was now hooked over Tim's shoulder, forcing his body to twist and letting him see the other.
"Look at you," he snarled, the pace picking up quickly. All Jon could do was look at him with blissful need. He looked pissed. A glare on his face, skin flushed, hair sticking to him. "Letting me do whatever the fuck I want with your body. If I knew you were going to be this easy, I should've fucked you ages ago. Maybe over your desk, in front of everyone. Let them see what a bitch you are-" and that threw Jon over the edge.
"Tim, fuck, fuck, Tim!" He gasped, brain short-circuiting on what to say as he came harder than he had ever before. Back arching, he scaped at what skin of Tim's he could reach and sloppily tried to thrust back onto his dick. He needed to be filled, needed to have Tim use him more than anything. Here, in the privacy of his room, or in his office, or- or in front of everyone. Jon moaned, brain-frying as, even as he came all over himself, Tim's thrusts continued deep inside of his ass.
"T-Tim, it's- it's too much, I can't-"
"Shut up, shut up. I decide when it's too much." As if to prove something, he thrust deeper into him. Jon didn't even realise these parts could be hit. "Do you like that idea? Being used in front of Daisy, and Melanie, and- fuck, I bet Martin would love to see you like this. I'd even let him use you, fuck your throat while I fill you from behind." A small gasp left Jon.
"He- he wouldn't-"
" I think he would. Do you know how long he's been pining after you? Bet he's been waiting a long time to put you in your place." Tim's breathing became low and shallow. "Or maybe he'd be too embarrassed to use you in front of everyone like me. But after he sees how easy you are, it's only a matter of time." Jon swore he saw stars as Tim's dick began hitting right against his prostate again. He didn't even realise it, but he was getting hard again.
"A- A matter of time?"
"I mean- seriously. You spend so much time in your office alone, and Martin is the only one who sees you. Would anyone notice if he slipped something in your tea? Or tied you up? He is so much bigger than you."
For the first time in his life, Jon found filthy images of Martin oozing into his head. Fantasies of something he would never dare utter. "Would you even yell for help? Or just spread your legs and let him fuck your ass until he's used you all up. Turn you into his little cum dump. I'd let him, too." A low groan left Tim and his pace suddenly became stilted. "Only- only if he let me really fuck your brains out. Make sure you couldn't look at me without getting-"
"Tim!" Jon let out a small curse as Tim's nails dug into his flesh and pulled him close. Balls pressed against his ass, and Jon felt Tim cum hard as he was forced into the mating press. He tried desperately to fuck himself back on Tim, but the grip he was holding him kept his hips perfectly still. He was so close to cumming a second time too, if only Tim just made a few more movements-
"Fucking Christ, patience Jon," Tim muttered, voice wavering as he began slowly pulling out. Jon tried to struggle against him, to get something more, but Tim's grip didn't lessen. Instead, he was forced still as he felt the gross feeling of a used condom pulling out of his ass. Jon was let finally released as Tim disposed of the condom.
When Tim finished, he collapsed beside Jon and he began preparing to finish himself off. With how Tim had been talking all night, it wouldn't have been surprising. But, a larger hand wrapped loosely around his ignored cock.
Jon softly breathed out and looked up at Tim. Oh, wow. He looked handsome up close. Lidded gaze with a smug expression on his face. Being this close... it felt more intimate than penetration.
As Tim began at a slow handjob, Jon's hands cautiously rested against his shoulders. "Tim," he moaned softly, deciding he had no ego to uphold anymore. He may as well let Tim get his fill. "That- I-I like that, please keep going," he mumbled, voice breaking. A snort came from Tim.
"Was that you begging? Really?" The hand that wasn't languidly stroking his cock cupped Jon's cheek and he nearly melted. If he squinted, this is how he imagined his first time going. The way teen fiction wrote it.
"If we weren't dying in a week, I'd teach you how to do it properly. Maybe even get you to suck me under my desk. You're really good at that, you know? Being used?" Jon squeezed his eyes shut. Christ, did Tim just learn how to bend him to his will, or had Jon been deaf before now?
"I- I wasn't begging. Just, trying to... to communicate," he moved forward, forehead pressed against Tim as his hand moved slowly up and thumb ran against his tip. Then down, just under his head and- oh, woah, that felt amazing. "that- that you're good at this," he ended with a whimper.
"Don't need you to tell me," he barely caught Tim's words. "I've done this plenty of times with men who aren't as... sensitive as you." Had Jon not been slowly losing his mind, he might've been offended. By right now his ability to make out the words Tim was saying disappeared and reappeared with how he was touched. Without even realising it, he had bit down on Tim's neck. That earned him an approving stroke making him anxiously bite down harder.
Everything felt sensitive- the way Tim's heat pressed between his lips, his heartbeat, each touch of his hair, everything lit Jon up.
"Shit- Jon, let up will you?" Tim said to deaf ears. "You're getting too- shit! Jon!" Roughly, Jon's hair was yanked, pulling him off Tim's shoulder. That broke the final straw for Jon, making him cum with a whine and sloppily thrusting hips.
"Tim, Christ, thank you, thank you," He grasped onto him, trying to pull him closer and ride out the brief bliss. Instead of his touches being met with warmth or words, Tim had pulled away.
"Tim?" He blinked and rolled back, watching Tim stand up. "Are... oh, Christ, did I do that?"
Any remaining drunkness or sex haze left as he noticed a thin trail of blood running down Tim's shoulder.
"Yeah, that wasn't on purpose?" Tim snapped back, collecting a handful of tissues to press against the new wound. "It's not exactly easy to break someone's skin on accident." Jon's tongue dashed across his lips and, yep, there was the taste of blood.
"I know! I'm not completely new to this, I mean, I've given hickies. But I've never done anything like that." If anything, Georgie often complained that he never bit hard enough. Tim grumbled something and this time Jon didn't miss the weary glance given in his direction.
"Jon..." The two waited in tense silence. "Are... are you human?" A heavy weight crossed the room that, just before, had felt so personal and comfortable.
All of a sudden, he wished he hadn't been completely naked in front of Tim.
"Tim, just because I bit you too hard doesn't mean-"
"It's not that! I mean, I've bled before," he said quickly, new alertness entering Tim. "I've had bites worse than this. It's just, right before you came..." There was a painfully long pause. "For a second, I thought your eyes..."
Jon wanted to be anywhere but here.
"Nevermind."
"Tim, you can't just-"
"It was nothing. Don't worry about it. I'm going off to clean myself up, can you strip my blanket." It wasn't a question, but a buffer between the two of them.
Jon watched blankly as Tim left for the bathroom.
Jon was not going to have a meltdown.
Taking a slow breath, he rubbed his face and came to the slow realisation of just how gross he felt. Not just his cum covered his stomach, but he was pretty sure he rolled around in his ejaculation from earlier. And, he realised as he tried to stand, his ass hurt like hell. Groaning to himself, he shuffled upright and did his best not to move too much as he stripped the sheets off the blanket. As he was going, however, he noticed the pillow. One still marked with his spit, and crispy black burn lines. Staring for a long moment, he slowly put his hand- the one Jude Perry had marked, up to it. A perfect fit. He swallowed and stripped the pillows too.
When Tim returned, neither said anything. They simply exchanged places, with Tim collecting the soiled sheets and Jon heading off to clean himself up. When he left, he stood in the loungeroom for a long moment. What now? Go to bed with Tim? The couch? Go home?
"Your eyes flashed." Tim's voice, low and monotone, came from the door. Jon tensed. He didn't need clarification.
Tim continued anyway.
"Like- like a torch or a bulb. It was bright green, I'm not even sure..." A painful silence fell over them. "I don't know what you are, Jon, but you better hope it's enough to save you from The Unknowing." Another painful silence.
"Tim, I don't-"
"Take the couch tonight. I'll pay for your trip back in the morning." Jon didn't argue, just made himself comfortable on the couch.
"Night, Tim." There was no response. Just the lights turning off and the bedroom door closing.
In the morning, Tim woke up to a trash-free house and Jon missing. He would've thought the whole thing to be a wet dream (if it had been, that would definitely be enough for him to decide to get a therapist,) if it hadn't been for a single note.
'See you at work,
Yours, Jon'
And Tim was right. When the two saw each other at work that day, neither said a thing. There wasn't even a secretive or regretful glance between the two. It was as if nothing had happened. When the week passed and they stood outside the Wax Museum with Basira, there wasn't even the brushing of hands. Just a cruel silence that the two knew would end with tragedy.
When Jon awoke six months later, he was the only one to do so.