the_fairest_flower

Jamie smiles when he sees the text from Bashir, but the expression fades. It's kind of cryptic in a way he wouldn't expect, which only gives him cause to change his plans faster. He wasn't doing anything that couldn't wait, after all.

He knows something might be spreading around the city. He--certainly has noticed, with himself.

It doesn't take him long to get to Bashir's place and he knocks on the door, trying not to fidget out in the hall.

"Julian? It's Jamie."

"Come in!" Bashir is in his flat and alternating between pacing and pointedly Not Pacing. He feels off. Odd. Too warm in his own skin. Something else. Distracted? Distractable, maybe. Instead of his typical, more buttoned-down look, he's wearing a loose t-shirt and soft workout trousers. His skin is flushed and his hair still wet from the shower.

Jamie slips in and closes the door behind him. He sets down the bag he's carrying by the door and he pauses for a moment when an unfamiliar - but very alluring - scent catches him. It makes him blush and Jamie tries to shake the feeling off as he moves further into the flat.

Bashir's restless energy is palpable. He looks flustered in a way Jamie's never seen.

"Are you alright, darling? You look--" He isn't sure how to finish that sentence. Overheated? Flushed. Wildly attractive. "Your message was rather cryptic."

Bashir turns to Jamie and there's a flicker of hunger on his face before he rather ruthlessly tamps it down. He can smell jasmine? Something floral, sweet, but heady, too.

"Not really? I got hit with something at work? I think? They said I could stay, but that I really, really ought to go home. Call a friend and ..." As he speaks, he keeps slowly, steadily moving closer almost as if he's stalking Jamie. "And work it out."

That look, subtle as it is, sends a little rush of heat through him. Jamie runs his hand over the back of his neck, suddenly very aware of all the places his clothes are touching him.

He stays where he is but he holds Bashir's gaze as he moves closer.

"Work it out?" he prompts. "Is it uhm. I think something is going around."

Jamie takes a sharper breath and, oh--oh he's almost sure now that scent is Julian. It gets clearer as he moves closer.

"It's affecting my senses. They're usually quite acute, but it's even more so." He doesn't growl, but there's a low rumble from somewhere deep in his chest as he stands just a little too close. "And you smell very -- it's like --"

Julian's words trail off as he leans in and nuzzles, scenting Jamie's neck.

"Sweet. Almost like honey. And civet."

Jamie is definitely blushing by the time Julian gets that close to him. He looks up at the doctor's face and, without thinking, lightly rests a hand against his chest. There's no attempt to put any space between them, just a gentle touch for the sake of contact.

He swallows thickly and takes a steadying breath.

"You smell really good," he admits, eyes closing as Julian nuzzles against his neck. His fingers curl loosely, gripping his shirt. "And you're really warm..."

Julian keeps scenting Jamie, nosing along his jaw, behind his ear, and he almost whines with how much he wants. (What does he want? He's not too sure, not at the moment, but he wants it all the same.)

"You too. You smell like you should be wet." Bashir huffs and begins to nudge Jamie back towards the wall. He wants to press him there, hold his thigh between the other man's legs. "I want. I want you. Please? Say yes or back away slowly. Do not run. Or I'll..."

He hides his face again and rumbles when he speaks. "If you run, I'll chase you. I'll catch you. I'll take you."

"I am," he sighs, blushing deeper as he's guided toward the wall. Jamie can't even imagine trying to get away. And he's almost embarrassed by how excited he gets at the possibility of Julian chasing him. His pulse has picked up and Jamie tries to keep his breathing even.

"You know, that's very tempting," he says with a strained laugh. Then his back hits a wall. "I--I think I really want you to have me, Julian. I want to help you with--with whatever this is. A lot."

That rumble in Julian's voice is absolutely sending chills down his back.

"Yes."

"Good, I want you to help me. I want to see how wet I can get you, to see your thighs slick with it. To taste you." Julian whines, low in his throat and licks a hot, broad stripe up the side of his neck.

He's practically panting with need when he speaks again, "You must be so empty, Jamie. Do you feel empty? Like you oughta have something more inside?" As he speaks, his hips roll and it pushes his thigh between Jamie's legs, giving him something to rub against.

"Oh, God," he gasps as Julian presses a leg between his. Jamie doesn't hesitate, immediately pushing his hips forward to grind against his thigh. He shivers, hands tightening their grip where he's holding on to Julian's arms. He'd been aroused before, but it is hitting him hard now with that honey dripping from the other man's lips.

He does feel far too empty.

"Please, darling." His voice is edged with a needy whimper. He's embarrassed that he's probably rubbing slick against Julian's leg, but now that he has that friction, he doesn't want to stop. It isn't nearly enough, it doesn't even really take the edge off. "Please, I need you."

"I know, sweet, I know." Bashir rocks his hips against him, rolling their bodies together while he continues to describe how he feels and what he wants to do. "You could finger yourself open, but I think you want it so much you don't need that, hmm? So loose, so wet. I could just bend you over the arm of the sofa and push in, do you think?"

He slips a hand between their bodies, down to the vee of Jamie's legs. As promised, he's wet with it and Bashir drags his fingers through the slick so he can get a taste.

A sharp, sweet moan escapes him as Julian's fingers slip between his legs. His hips jerk, chasing that caress. Jamie looks dazed as he watches Julian taste him from his fingers and he swears his entire body throbs.

"I just want you in me. Please. I don't--I don't think I need--I don't want to wait."

Later, he might wonder if walking through the door, into Julian's space, had some effect. He'd felt fine out on the street. Different, but fine. Now? Now he feels utterly reduced to instinct and need. His hands finally release Julian's shirt, trembling as they drag down to palm his cock through the soft fabric. Jamie tries to squeeze his legs together, but Julian's knee is there to keep them apart.

Julian's cock is hard and still filling out and he growls, moving against Jamie's hand as he starts to tug at the other man's clothing. "Too much. You're wearing too much. How can I fuck you if you're dressed?"

"Next time, a skirt. Just so I can flip it up and ..." Bashir isn't particularly elegant about shucking his own clothing. Shirt flung off to one side, trousers shoved down and off, a very visibly bulge and wet spot on the front of his shorts. "First, I'm going to take you over the back of the sofa. Then again, in the bedroom. And again until you're just filled with it. I think you want that, hmm?"

Why hadn't he worn a skirt? He'd been feeling oddly vulnerable when he left the house, maybe that pushed a need to cover up just a bit more. Jamie is regretting it now.

He gets the button and fly of his shorts open and shoves them off. His panties are soaked through and there's the faint sheen of slick on his inner thighs. His shirt is next, dragged off in one hurried movement. The promise to fill him makes Jamie dizzy with need. That is exactly what he wants.

The panties are gone just second later. Jamie presses close, tipping his head to nuzzle Bashir's neck. That alone makes him whimper and he reaches down to shove the last bit of cloth out of his way so he can get his hand on Bashir's cock.

"Fuck," he gasps, blushing hot. "Please, darling."

Sofa. That clicks in his head and as painful as it is to pull away, Jamie does. He leans against the back of the sofa, bent over and trying not to rub against the upholstery.

He peers over his shoulder, soft lips parted as his breath quickens.

"Look at you." Absently palming his own prick, Bashir watches as Jamie bends over the back of the sofa. "You're so wet. You're gonna make a mess of the sofa."

Walking over, he doesn't sound upset in the slightest as he moves to stand behind the other man. He trails his fingers up and down the slickest part of his thighs, spreading the moisture around, until he's satisfied that his own fingers are wet enough. With no warning, he slides two fingers up and inside. "And I'm gonna make a mess of you."

"Fingers are nice, I find, but it's not enough. Not big enough. Is it?"

Jamie covers his mouth, trying to muffle the squeal that escapes him when Bashir pushes a pair of fingers into him. He pushes back urgently, trying to get them deeper. The penetration doesn't even take the edge off: it's not enough. Not when he knows what he needs.

His hand slides away from his face to grip the couch instead.

"Please," he whines. Maybe later he'll have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about his behavior, but right now he can only think of one thing. Being teased just makes it worse. He looks over his shoulder again, trying hard to focus.

"I need you in me--mm--" He moans and sinks against the couch when Bashir's fingers move just right. He gets tight around them.

"I know what you need. I know." With one hand on the back of the sofa for support, he gathers up a bit of Jamie's own slick and coats his cock. Normally, he'd check in more along the way, but he's rapidly losing any ability to hold himself back. There's no delay, no slow easing himself inside, he just pushes in and curls over his back, nuzzling along the arch of his neck.

It's not long before there's a rumbling sound in his chest and he begins to move. Hard and quick, Julian is focused on chasing his own pleasure.

Jamie tries to muffle himself again as he cries out. The slick slide of Julian's cock brings relief and ignites his need all at once. It's bliss when he starts moving, fucking him without any further preamble. Jamie braces himself against the couch to avoid losing his balance, though he suspects that even if he did, Julian wouldn't stop.

He feels hot all over, panting as every hard thrust forces him against the furniture. He grinds against it and back against Julian as much as he can, losing himself in the delirious feeling.

Even if Julian is intent on his own pleasure, he doesn't have to work very hard to build up Jamie's. Every part of him feels sensitive, to the point that feeling the other man's breath against his skin makes him shudder. He gets tight around Julian's cock, body trying to milk him. Jamie bites his lip and grips the cushions tighter as that wave of tension ripples through him again, harder. He gasps, realizing he's coming. But he doesn't want this to stop.

It's good that he wants to keep going because Bashir has no intention of letting up. He snarls and holds onto Jamie's hip with one hand, keeping him steady so he can be used for Julian's own pleasure. If he can, he'll push Jamie through his own orgasm and just keep going until he's satisfied.

He's able to come quickly and notably more than he'd expected. (The sofa is going to need a serious deep clean.) However, any hope he'd had that it would clear his head was false. Still deep in the throws of a rut, Bashir whines at Jamie and slips his hand up between his legs to play with or maybe try to keep his hole full. "Bedroom. Now."

Jamie gasps and arches his back when he feels it. It satisfies something bone-deep to feel that release, knowing Bashir is coming in him, giving him what he wants. He trembles, pushing back against the alpha. He's dizzy, overheated, and he whines quietly as fingers brush against him.

"Okay--okay."

He pushes himself up and very reluctantly pulls away. Jamie almost loses his balance, knees weak even if that was quick. At least he knows the way to the bedroom. He hurries that way to make it to the bed, thinking that if he doesn't move quick, he may be tackled to the floor.

Moving quickly was a good idea because it means that instead of the floor or against a wall, Bashir is going to pin Jamie to the bed. He can't seem to get enough of the omega - his scent or touch - and there's no reason he shouldn't glut himself.

Bashir might've already come once, but he's still more than half-hard and working his way back to readiness. "You want more."

It's not a question.

"Tell me you want it." He's already got a hand between their bodies, reaching to stroke Jamie's prick.

He gasps sharply when Bashir's weight hits him, pinning him to the bed.

"Yes," he moans as as the other man strokes him. He writhes, hard again by the time Bashir touches him. "I want it. I want--I want you to fill me, Julian. I need you."

Jamie moves closer, thighs framing Bashir's hips as seeks that touch. He reaches to stroke him, encouraging him back to full arousal.

"Everything you can give me."

"Good, I'm going to fill you up with my cock, my come, and we're going to see how many times you can take it." It doesn't take much encouragement to get him hard and rutting his cock against the slick and his own spend that's already on Jamie.

He feels he ought to speak, but he's too distracted. Overwhelmed, maybe? Either way, once he's able to push his cock inside, there are very few thoughts left in his head. A rising tide of instinct takes over and his hips snap before settling into a harsh rhythm.

Jamie gasps sharply and pushes his hips hard toward Julian as he pushes in. One hand grabs at the bed while the other grips the man's arm, trying to brace himself. His thighs tighten against Julian's sides. Every thrust hits hard, and soon enough all Jamie can hear is the sound of his own breathing and the obscene sound of skin against skin as their bodies meet.

He's hot, flushed, and he can't remember ever being so aroused in his life. This kind of neediness is nothing he's had to deal with before. His nails dig against Julian's skin and he arches his back, trying to encourage him deep with every thrust.

He doesn't even realize that he's begging.

Bashir might be saying something, but it's not particularly coherent. Likely just some variation on how good Jamie is, how sweet, how much he wants it, and how Bashir is going to take and take.

To stop himself saying too much, he mouths at Jamie's shoulder then bites down. Not hard enough to break the skin, not yet. When he's not babbling on, the slick, wet sounds of their fucking is loud in the room.

Jamie moans sharply and buries his fingers in Julian's hair as teeth dig against his shoulder. He gets tight and a full body shiver rushes through him: the pressure sends a delicious jolt straight through him, and he realizes he wouldn't mind if Julian bit harder.

"Please," he whimpers, breathless. The sound between them is obscene, perfect. His body tenses again and he tries to push himself closer. The urgency, the bite, pushes Jamie into another orgasm and his hands tense, gripping tight as the pleasure rolls through him. Despite that release, Jamie's need doesn't fade.

He wants to bite harder, but it doesn't feel right. Not yet, anyway. Bashir is aware that Jamie has come, but he doesn't stop. He's going to keep pushing, giving into that driving need to keep him pinned and stuffed full.

It's getting harder to pull his cock all the way out. That doesn't make sense, but when he slips a hand down between their bodies, he realizes just what's happening. Knots are common enough among non-humans that he's seen and treated plenty. "I'm going to keep you here. Tied to me. Like you're meant to be."

Jamie's trembling by the time he realizes what's happening. He is what he is and he has plenty of experience with non-human cocks, but this--holy shit. He grabs at Julian's thigh, whimpering as it becomes harder for the man to pull out.

And he swears he's never been so turned on in his life as when he hears that ragged promise to keep him here. Like he's meant to be. His body tightens and he tries to get closer, encouraging that as much as he can. He wants that, he needs it.

"Please," he gasps out again. "Julian--"

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I've got you. I won't let you go." As he holds Jamie close to his chest, another rumble from somewhere as he bites down again. It's only once he's sunk his teeth into the curve of his shoulder that he's able to come.

...and come.

...and probably still keep coming for longer than he'd thought possible. It's hot, wet, and his knot is keeping them tied tightly together.

un: m
pack a bag
im stealin u away for awhile
15 min

wait what
where
what do i need to back
Mid you can't just tell a fucking lady to pack and not for what!!

u dont need much
im planning on keepin u in bed
if u need a packing theme
lets go with cozy introvert

ok
thanks babe <3
ok i'll be outside the cottage in 15 i guess?

no stay dry
ill scoop u right up in the bedroom

oh shit that's right
ok

Jamie throws a bunch of things into a backpack, because even if Mid's told him what to bring he has options. But apparently cozy introvert is something he'd wear around the house anyway wit a big sweater thrown over it. It's hard to say if he just got one that's too big or if it belonged to someone else. He hates this weather. He's kind of glad Mid texted because he's just been staring into the back garden, worrying about floods. The garden would be fine. Jamie isn't sure that he would be.

Either way, Jamie sitting on his bed and pulling on a pair of thigh-high socks by the time Mid arrives.

[ As before, a vertical light cuts through reality itself and expands like a door. Outsteps Midnighter in his own comfortable clothes; not the usual intimidating black leather. ]

Hey, miss priss. [ His arms open wide for Jamie to jump into with his backpack. ] We're gonna stay at my house, nicely separated from time and space.

[ Ergo, there would not be a drop of rain within the pocket dimension. ]

[Jamie smiles when he sees Mid and rolls his eyes. It's obvious he's tired, like he hasn't been sleeping. He slides off the bed and goes right into those open arms, backpack slung over one shoulder. Jamie maybe faceplants a little into Midnighter's chest, staying there for a few seconds before peering up at him.]

I don't think I've ever been to your place. Better not be a fucking bachelor pad with bean bag chairs.

[ It can be whatever you want it to be. It's made of urban cells; everything can be modified, right down to the paint or bar chairs.

With Jamie secured in his arms, he steps back through the Door into a modern, minimal apartment done in whites and neutrals. The main room is open concept with the full kitchen and an island surrounded by hightop bar chair. But that's not the important room. The important room is the bedroom with a large king bed. That's where he deposits his new cargo. ]

I'm going to keep you in this bed. As long as I can.

[It's probably stupid but... Jamie closes his eyes as they go back through the threshold. He peeks them open again, kind of surprised by what he sees but... it's nice. He looks around as much as he can on the way to the bed, but he isn't in a hurry to get down and explore.

Jamie slides his backpack off and drops it to the floor after Mid sets him on the bed. He tips his head, uncertainty and curiosity warring on his face.]

Not that I'm complaining, but... is there a reason?

[It probably has nothing to do with him being a withdrawn, anxious mess since the first rumble of thunder.]

[ It has everything to do with that, silly boy. Midnighter's head even cants to the side as if it should be obvious. ]

I figured you could use a distraction.

[He's not going to fucking cry, but he feels that little sting behind his eyes. He slides off the bed only so he can press against Midnighter again, arms sliding around him in a tight hug.]

You're so dumb, [he mumbles, the words full of affection.] But I guess I'm all yours to distract.

Strange, since my IQ is over one-sixty, which is above genius. But I guess we'll have to agree to disagree.

[ With Jamie back in his arms, Midnighter returns him to the bed. He towers over the delicate man lying beneath with both forearms bracketing the halo of his blond hair. Midnighter's nose brushes over a soft pale cheek, down to his ear. ]

And, I've missed Daddy.

[ His tongue traces the shell of Jamie's ear after his words. ]

[Jamie rolls his eyes, because his IQ definitely isn't fucking that high and is probably in the double digits. He looks up at Midnighter as the man leans over him, kind of pins him in place in the best way possible: Jamie loves feeling covered.

He reaches up to brush his fingers along Mid's cheek as the other man nuzzles against his cheek; he breathes in sharply when Mid's tongue brushes against his ear.]

Did you? Poor thing, have I been neglecting you?

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for Bashir - ABO

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