redrighthanded | IC; Duplicity Inbox

Mmhm. [ Hellboy tilts his head slightly, then lets out a breath, a corner of his mouth hitching upward. ]

Come on. [ He waves his hand, beckoning to his lap. ] Come here if you're gonna look at me like that.

[Does Jacob get out of his chair a little too quickly, a little too eagerly? Maybe. He stops between Hellboy's legs, not sure if he should be slipping to his knees or sitting on his lap. So he doesn't do either, but lets his hand reach out to touch the tense muscles at the nape of Hellboy's neck, rubbing there to try and release some of the pressure.]

What about you? What are you going to do, when and if you get back?

[ Hellboy ducks his head a little to encourage the gentle touch to the back of his neck, making a soft thoughtful noise of pleasure, his left hand drifting to Jacob's side, rubbing gently up and down before settling on his hip. ]

Mm. I dunno. I wasn't.. in a good place before I came here. Washed up after a weird time. Sleeping on couches and trying to crawl down into every bottle I saw. [ He lifts his chin to look up at the younger man. ] No heroics here.

Having a hard time doesn't mean you aren't a hero. Everyone can be, it just means doing the right thing.

[Fuck, that sounded a bit profound. Maybe Henry was rubbing off on him.]

Anyway, you're not there now. Time to find a new direction?

[And as he speaks, he'll continue to rub over that tense spot, the soft smile that tugs on his lips nothing like the bright and cheeky ones that more readily appear, but that doesn't mean it isn't genuine.]

Maybe being able to stretch out when you sleep will do you some good.

[ They're good words, but to Hellboy that's all they can be. He's already had a taste of what lies ahead of him thanks to Hecate, and none of it is particularly heroic. He doesn't want to dim the light in those bright eyes though, so he keeps it to himself, making a noncommittal sound.

He looks more interested as the topic of sleep is raised, lifting his hand to wrap gently around Jacob's wrist. ]

Yeah? You looking to tire me out? [ He brings the younger man's hand around to his mouth, gaze still on Jacob's face. He brushes soft kisses over his fingertips, then his palm. ]

[ Jacob's hands are scarred, calloused. They've been burned when pistols misfired, sliced up broken window panes, frozen while he waited on rooftops overnight for targets to appear, and burned on red-hot bricks of factory chimneys. But they are still so sensitive to those soft kisses, the gesture making his heart melt and a shiver run down his spine. ]

I'm keen to try. Not sure I can, but that bed isn't going to christen itself.

[ Those scars aren't something Hellboy can ever experience himself except like this. Besides a few cracks through the stone of his right hand, the fights he's lost and the years which have rolled over him haven't left a mark behind, and sometimes he wonders if it would be easier if they had, if he could look at his body and know how hard survival has been.

For now though, he can just appreciate them when they're on other people, sliding his tongue over Jacob's palm, tasting salt and sweetness before letting him go. ]

Hm. True. [ Though now he's got him, he's not sure he wants to go all the way to the bed. He reaches up to flatten his palm against Jacob's chest, stroking down over his front to start working the buttons of his fly and slide his hand inside. ] Didn't we already do that though?

Not since I pushed them together.

[ But it's not said with any real conviction. Not when Hellboy seems keen for them to stay right where they are. And Jacob has no complaints about it, although his free hand goes to Hellboy's shoulder to keep himself steady.]

I think that might tire me out first...

[ Hellboy grunts dismissively at that. ]

Guess that depends how far I let you go. [ He tugs his trousers open, though doesn't start working on the all-in-one piece he considers underwear just yet. He rubs his palm down over Jacob's crotch instead, working him through the fabric. ] Tell me what you want.

[ There's a soft sigh of a noise as Hellboy begins to palm him, and Jacob tries to fight the urge to buck his hips. He mostly wins, as his self-control isn't diminished by anything he's breathed in, eaten or drunk. Which seems to be a rare state of affairs in this city.]

What I want. Right now?

[ He wants everything. He wants to touch and kiss all of Hellboy; run his hands over his chest, his thighs, his abdomen, over his back, and follow the path of his hands with kisses. He wants to let Hellboy fuck him again, slow this time, and marvel at how much of him he can take. ]

Jesus, you know that's like taking a street kid to a buffet and telling them to eat?

I want... I want to ride you. To be in control of how I get fucked.

[ Hellboy watches Jacob work for that small amount of control with interest, noting the way he loses it a little and what did that for him. Each encounter they've shared has given him something new to learn, some small part of the answer to the puzzle that makes up his roommate. He relishes that as much as the feel of Jacob's cock growing hard against his palm as he rubs him over.

He nods at Jacob's suggestion, a grin playing around the edges of his mouth. ]

Good. 'Cause that's what I want too. [ He lets go of his cock to start undoing the buttons that run up under Jacob's clothes, his right hand working deftly despite its size. When there's enough room, he leans in to brush his lips over Jacob's stomach, kissing and licking the soft stripe of hair on his belly. ]

[ Jacob really likes the smile on Hellboy's face. It suits him, it really does, and seems to give a different dimension to his eyes. They really are so deep, even if completely different to any eyes he's ever seen before. He feels like he's looking into some window into another world, and although it's different and strange, it's not scary.

His hips rock a little, missing the heat and pressure of the hand against him. But then those fingers are unfastening the buttons beneath his clothes, the cool air of the room tickling his skin, before the hot brush of lips.

It feels so good that his hand goes back to Hellboy's neck, holding him close, while his other hand goes for his belt, trying to undo the buckle with fumbling fingers.]

Think that chair can cope with both of us?

[ It feels good to make Jacob catch his breath and rock into him like that, like all he wants is more of what he's not getting. It's tempting to just keep teasing him like that, but Hellboy can't find it in himself to be that cruel right now, and he's not sure his own patience could hold out either.

He chuckles against Jacob's stomach, pushing up his shirt and into his underwear so he can get at more of his skin under all of those layers. ]

I dunno, let's see. [ He slips his left hand up under Jacob's clothing, spreading his fingers over his chest, finding a nipple with one fingertip and drawing a circle around it. ] Gimme a hand here or I'm gonna start pulling buttons off.

[ If Hellboy had continued to tease him, Jacob might well have protested and taken matters into his own hands. But as it is, with the hand that slides between fabric and skin, he finds himself inclined to be merciful and help. After all, he doesn't want to lose all of the buttons... but having his clothes torn off him does excite him more than it should.

The teasing finger feels good, but it's not enough to distract him from unbuttoning enough to free his arms and shoulders and then peel it down his torso, letting the fabric hang down at his hips because, at this point, he has better things to do. Like guide that right hand around to his ass, enjoying the fact that one hand covers him almost completely. And then he can free both of his own hands, run them over Hellboy's chest, scratching his nails down over his skin. ]

At some point, I'm going to let you rip all my clothes off me. But I think I'll need to wind you up first.

Yeah? [ Hellboy's content to let himself be guided, setting the wide warm stone of his palm against the younger man's ass. He spreads the fingers of his left hand over Jacob's stomach, rubbing gently up over his ribs, across his pecs like he's trying to memorise what he feels like, or just losing himself in the topography of all of that warm muscle. ]

How would you wind me up, huh?

[ His hand slides down as he asks, back between Jacob's legs but underneath his clothes this time. ]

[ Jacob's grin becomes wicked and he leans in, lips brushing against Hellboy's ear, his fingers leaving red, warm skin to hook into his own clothing. His voice is low and soft, as fabric pools around his feet and he kicks it away, so he's naked and unashamed, Hellboy still dressed before him, like a king on a throne.]

They have toys here. Things I've never seen before. Things to spread you and fill you up and no one would know they were there. I want one, in me, under my clothes, and I want us to go drinking. And you're going to know it's there, and I'm wishing it was your cock. And maybe I'll blow you, maybe I won't. But by the end of the night I'll be begging you.

[ He pulls back, pressing himself against the stone hand, his breathing already hard, cock leaking against the finger tips that touch him now. ]

So you think that might work?

[ Hellboy hums thoughtfully as his fingers close around that hard cock, stroking gently, his thumb gliding through the slickness at the tip, nudging at Jacob's foreskin a little.

The idea of having Jacob like that, fully clothed and needy, unable to do anything about it except feel that desire and the fake cock inside him, is thrilling in a way Hellboy's never considered before. That idea of being needed, wanted so desperately appeals to him.

Giving a crooked smile, he leans forward to nuzzle Jacob's belly again, then further down until he can kiss that hard shaft, softly. ]

Sounds pretty good. [ Another kiss, then leaning back to pass his tongue over the head of Jacob's dick, glancing up at his face as he does so. ] You think you'd be able to last all night?

[Jacob's hips shift, undulating forward, the hand that strokes him doing wonderful, wanton and wicked things. He trembles a little, breath leaving him in a sigh, as he watches every movement. The smile, the soft nudge of Hellboy's face against his skin which makes his stomach do backflips, and then the way red lips brush his cock.

He groans, not bothering to even try and hold it back. He's been imagining Hellboy against him, above him, in him since he'd pushed the beds together, and he's waited, eager for it, since then. It's been hours, and he's only now getting the hint of relief.

The question snaps his focus away from the press of heat and wetness against his dick, makes him think, makes him just want to climb into Hellboy's lap now and take him.]

Don't want to last. What you to fuck me until I don't know which way is up, and I can't come anymore.

Good.

[ Hellboy's voice is a low, pleased rumble of sound. He laps at the head of Jacob's cock again, enjoying the taste of him, salty and sweet, trying to figure out what will satisfy the younger man most. He may be a quick learner and good at navigating on instinct, but he'd be the first to admit he's new at this. As much as he can tell Jacob wants to hurry things up, he's tempted to draw this out a little, inspired by that fantasy, liking the idea of him keen and desperate and hungry.

He slips his left hand down between Jacob's legs, palm rolling over his balls for a few moments as he keeps teasing his dick, pushing his thighs apart a little before reaching back to rub two blunt fingertips up between his cheeks.

Leaning back again, he tilts his head and looks up at him. ]

Kinda like the idea of you out in public like that. Nobody else knowing who you're thinking about.

[ As keen as he is, he can sense the pace here, can read that this is going to be different than before, when the fever had one or both of them in its grip. This is different, this is new ground. He feels exposed somehow, raw but there's nothing here that he's fearful of. He likes it, being... himself. Nothing but himself.

His chest heaves, taking deep breaths, trying to fill his lungs but each touch sends waves of frozen fire through him- the touch to his balls, the press of Hellboy's mouth, the fingers that press against him, thick and firm. It's enough to make his legs feel weak again, and he reaches out to wrap his arms around Hellboy's shoulders, needing him, needing the support. ]

You have to be the one to put it in me. I want it to be you. I want every movement, every time my cock twitches, to make me wish it was you.

[ Jacob's words feel close enough to a prayer for Hellboy to be left without a response, except for a soft noise of gratitude and pleasure as the younger man curves forward into him. He leans up a little to kiss him, trying to work out how to repay him for what he wants, how to live up to that while he's still figuring it all out.

For now, he circles and presses gently against Jacob's hole as they kiss, not trying to work himself into him yet, just letting him feel the possibility between hot breaths on his cheek. ]

Look at you. [ His tone as he murmurs against Jacob's mouth is fond and satisfied. He pushes a little more insistently. ] Bet you could come right here. Where's the stuff you had before? [ Because he's pretty sure, as much as he wants it, Jacob wouldn't thank him for trying anything without enough preparation. ]

[ Hellboy shouldn't worry about living up to any fantasy, Jacob's words are just titillation to get both of them to the point where they ache for it, where Jacob can't help but tremble when Hellboy's hands are everywhere on him. The press of them against him is enough to make him groan, pressing himself back as if he might just try to take them without anything to ease the way. Really he wants the heat, the blissful stretch of Hellboy in him.]

Nightstand. Don't move.

[He kisses, wet and needy, pressing their mouths back together with almost too much force, and then breaks away. The air is cold, outside of the bubble of heat that radiated between them, and as he grabs what they need, he curses the fact that he didn't get the stuff out beforehand, or spread himself out while he waited.

Then he's back, pressing himself up against Hellboy to try and sap his warmth, shivering for two reasons, although in truth rooms as cold as this aren't unfamiliar. But having someone to warm up with still is.

The next kiss is just as hungry, as the packets are pressed into Hellboy's palm.]

Go slow. I want to be begging you.

[ Hellboy doesn't have to be told to stay where he is, watching Jacob cross the room with a hungry and appreciative gaze. He's pretty sure if the guy was in a different time he'd be modelling for marble statues of Apollo and Dionysus, or maybe just sprawled out on a fur rug in some oil painting somewhere.

While he's away, he takes the chance to finish opening his shorts, pulling his own achingly hard cock out with a muted exhalation of relief, rubbing his hand over it almost absently as Jacob returns, feeling quite Dionysian himself, almost drunk on the sensations of being wanted and wanting in return.

He accepts the packets of lube and chases that kiss back with a grunt. He tears the packets open with indiscriminate teeth and squeezes them, dropping them onto the floor once their contents coat his fingers and his palm. It's cold, but he knows it'll warm quickly on his skin, and doesn't hesitate to reach around to find Jacob's ass again, parting his cheeks and coating him in a generous swipe of lube before he resumes that rhythmic pressure at his hole. His right hand lifts up against his back to hold him in place as he starts to push into him, gently, and slowly as requested. ]

[Alas, Jacob was born far too late to enjoy the hedonistic desires of Ancient Greece and Rome, and too late for the Grand Tour when all things neoclassical was once more en vogue. While Lord Byron as his set might have declared their love for many beautiful young men of the Mediterranean, Jacob Frye would never be amongst them, nor be a muse for their romantic poetry, nor be the Adonis left broken-hearted when their lover returned home. For the best no doubt, considering how much he dislikes high society.

This is better. There are no dreams of grandeur here, only lust, base and unashamed. He wants everything Hellboy's kisses promise him, wants to feel every inch of him. He doesn't want to be a cold and unfeeling marble statue, he wants to be a real, warm body with desires and needs, looking for another warm body to complete him.

He presses up against the red-hot skin when those fingers slide over him, and then begin to slide within. He's glad of the hand at his back, keeping him close, almost holding him up as he fights to keep his breath slow and steady, and it means he can focus just on that feeling. It's good, even with the momentary resistance his body offers, his head tilting forwards to rest against Hellboy's own, forehead to forehead- or as best as he can with the base of those horns in the way.]

You decided how you want me? In the chair? Over the table?

[He asks as his hands smooth down, over Hellboy's chest again, to feel the steady thump of his heart. It's wonderful, the slow press of his fingers, his attention, and Hellboy's reaction to his words. He's not yet losing his mind, even if his toes curl, but he can tell that at some point tonight he won't even know who he is anymore. ]

[ Marble or not, Jacob's skin is too tempting for Hellboy to resist. He turns his head slightly to kiss the curve of his jaw, nuzzling against his throat as his finger works into Jacob's ass, the tight grip and heat of him enough to make his dick jump a little, already wet across the dark red tip with the thought of having that pressure sliding down around him. ]

Here, in my lap. [ He breathes the words against the side of Jacob's neck, pulling him a little closer with his right hand to get a better angle so he can push deeper, slow circular movements to open him up, testing that resistance before he adds a second fingertip. ] At first. Then we'll see.

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and here we see a tag written by a historian

beautiful <3