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rareslashHex slash, rare as a cat with six legs as far as I can tell, so I thought I'd put it here. Took me ages to think of a title. I nearly gave up in the end and just called it Deskporn! I thought that lacked a certain elegance though.
Title: Familiarity
Author: Corona
Fandom: Hex
Rating: 18
Pairing: Azazeal/Jez
Disclaimer: In no way mine or anything to do with me. I pretend nothing to the contrary.
Summary: I'm not going to pretend this is anything other than shameless, shameless filth...
Notes: Comment, critique, laugh and point at my characterisation...
Jez knew he was there when he opened the door, he could tell by the smell, and it only took a moment to twist his head sideways until he found him.
"You shouldn't be here." Azazeal failed to look apologetic, he smiled one of his long, easy smiles and stretched in the chair he was folded in. All eyes and hands in the darkness.
Jez watched him stand, watched him pull himself into the light and fill up all the available space with flesh and shadow. He turned away, went to the desk, dropping bag and folder. Azazeal's whims and amusements were his own.
But the shadow and the smell followed him, tugged his head round and made him face those smiling lips, that then pressed against his mouth, drew back, returned at an angle that seemed determined to push his own open. Instead Azazeal eased away, breathed across his face, then retreated, swayed off in another direction, in a slow, curious tour of his office.
"Someone could come by." Jez said quietly
"Who'd be so impolite as to knock at this hour?" Azazeal had stopped behind him, hands clasping his wrists and very carefully laying his hands flat on the desk, covering them and leaning in.
"Ah yes," shift of head against his own, trail of hair across his temple, breath against his ear.
"The delightful little tramp with her flirtations and suggestions. Schemes for pleasure, emboldened and exhilarated by the idea that you were infatuated with her, when the truth was quite different." Long hand, sharp and hot and in his hair, pulling sharply until Jez's neck creaked in a variety of unpleasant ways, and some not so unpleasant. Other hand sliding up his neck, curling round his throat and holding. He couldn't hold in the sharply drawn breath, or the swallow that formed under Azazeal's palm.
"What would she think do you wonder if she knew the real depths you'll sink to for pleasure?" Fingernails dug into his scalp, but there was no longer any creeping malice in the tone, there was something teasing, something questioning.
"The depths you'll sink to for me?" Warm hands dragging his jacket from his shoulders, dropping it without a pause to shove up shirt and jumper, pushing relentlessly until it was a tangled pile on the floor, and Jez was braced on the long desk, one of Azazeal’s hands sliding up and down his bare back, proprietary and unhurried. Breath against his ear, then hands tilting his head, awkward and painful, but Azazeal would have what he wanted.
"Oh there are so many things you know how to do with your mouth-" Another tug at his jaw, fingertips digging in and pulling until Azazeal had him open, pressed down into him, tongue sliding in and then out, determined to tease them both. A word against his jaw, silent and untranslatable, then lips against his ear, the side of his neck.
"Why must you always waste it on questions and arguments."
Hands spread on his chest, moving only in tiny increments, fingers flexing against the muscles, as if Azazeal was tempted to dig in until he could feel them better. Jez wasn't entirely sure they wouldn't but they dropped finally and Azazeal nudged his head back round and down, left him looking at the desk, breathing hard.
Hands circled his waist, thumbs sliding under belt and waistband.
"What was she like?" Fingers pulled leather out of loops, pulling metal until the belt opened, folded down, warm and delicious against the frustrated heat below it.
"Tell me." A tug on his hair, and then a hand grasped the metal of the buckle and pulled hard. Jez grunted as the belt came free in a serious of sharp jerks, slapped the desk loudly enough that he inhaled and stiffened in the silence.
"Tell me," quieter now, fingers pulling at button and zipper until a hand could work it's way in, rest with intent but no movement against the curve of a hip. Jez licked his lips, made his throat work.
"She was enthusiastic." Breath of laughter, shift of fingers to just brush against the edge of his erection pulling a hiss out of him.
"And?" Nudge against his arse, question and promise and threat, he swallowed again.
"Inventive," he said quietly.
"Confident...she had a beautiful mouth," Azazeal kissed his ear.
"More beautiful than mine?" Hard shake of his head, no, never. Rewarded by such loyalty with a hand moving sideways and curling tightly round him, couldn't stop the other hand from moving off of the desk, grasping Azazeal's wrist and pushing, just a little.
"You're so disobedient." Azazeal said softly against his ear, but didn't punish him for it.
Instead, hands sliding up and out just far enough to push at the material, easing it down hips and thighs until it fell in a heap, and Azazeal made a hard noise in his throat, fingers digging in to the bare skin of his hips.
"Step out." Azazeal said sharply.
"I want you naked." Jez said nothing, simply pushed off his shoes and stepped out of his trousers and shorts, bending long enough to tug his socks off. His belt still hung from Azazeal's fingers, dark and warm and suggestive that it might not be tossed to the floor and forgotten.
"Lovely though you are, you're still mine, to use however and whenever I wish. All the tangled choices in-between mean nothing." Slide of hands round his thighs, pulling them open slightly, then one shifted, pressed down hard in the middle of Jez's back, not a request. Sliding up and curling round his neck, pushing until his forehead touched the desk and holding him there.
"That's perfect," a breath, taken and held, then released in a quiet sound that was all temptation and sin.
"You're delicious you know."
Azazeal was silent for a long moment other hand tight at his waist, thumb working absently against his hipbone.
"I want to ruin you." Azazeal said quietly, hand releasing his neck to glide down back muscle and the trembling skin that coated Jez's ribs. Jez was tempted to tell him he already had done. Fingers dug into the muscle of his arse, hard enough to bruise and tense enough to leave him breathing into the wood, watching it go damp and dark under his mouth.
Polished shoe pushing his legs further apart, then fingers again, lower and focused, then just one, trailing and gliding, provoking tension in thigh and calf, jerk of stomach muscle as it drifted down, between and intent and there. Bit down on a gasp as it went inside, all the way and his hands curled round the edge of the desk. He shut his eyes, lashes brushing the wood, and Azazeal leant into him, all heat and muscle and soft cloth, a mouth opened at his shoulder, from lips to teeth and back again before he could made a sound.
"It's been an age since I opened your skin." Whispered against his back, soft and nostalgic.
Three fingers inside him now, and the hand had drifted off of his neck to untangle Azazeal from his own clothes, or enough of them that he could take what he wanted, brush of heat that wasn't fabric and Jez rolled his head, took a deep shuddering breath. Nothing inside him now, fingers gone to wrap tightly round his thigh.
"Tell me you want me?" Azazeal said quietly,
"You know I do." He said simply.
"Tell me anyway." Jez lifted his head just a little.
"I want you."
Taken on the last breath of words, deep and hard with no hesitation, and Azazeal was on and over and inside him and all he could do was dig his fingers into the desk and groan shakily. Shift of hips, heavy and insistent, not content to remain still.
"I'm left wondering," Azazeal said softly, hands sliding up Jez's ribcage, and it was clear he wanted Jez's attention in more ways than he currently had it.
"Wondering...fuck...wondering what?" He managed.
"Your little amusement." Slide of hands up his back, touching or holding him down he couldn't tell.
"I have to wonder what she'd do if she knew exactly how well you know how to play the game." Press of hips from Azazeal, hard enough to make Jez's hands shift on the desk.
"What would you do then, hmm?"
"I wouldn't-" a choke of noise, words cut off on a particularly vicious thrust. Azazeal dug a hand in his hair, tilted his head out of the wood.
"You wouldn't what." Had to close his eyes.
"Wouldn't tell her." Hands dragging his hips back, making him swear and bite his lip and groan into the desk.
"I might," Azazeal said, leaning forward and pinning his hands, hot and needy and jealous. Startling revelation and for a long shocked moment all Jez could do was breath in sharp hard bursts and let Azazeal take him.
Tease of an idea, too strange to be real and too visceral to not be. But his silence seemed to affect Azazeal in some way, hands sliding under his body, warm and curious and he inhaled, swayed away from the desk just enough to let Azazeal's hands slide down and touch him.
Burst of air against his cheek, threat of teeth there and so delicious this close to the edge that he had to tilt his head and press just the slightest bit against him. Close and hot and the brutal, insistent, continual shift of Azazeal's hips was going to kill him. Gasping against his ear, breath flesh hot, Azazeal no longer sounded half as controlled as he liked to appear.
When Jez pushed back against him he sounded less so, which was perfect because he needed it, and he was prepared to be ruthless getting it, though not entirely certain if Azazeal would let him, but he'd already hit too much and not enough, and he tensed to go under. Both of them falling apart in a serious of ragged, desperate movements, and Jez was left braced on his hands, gasping and shuddering and swearing with no restraint or reason, and Azazeal was still touching him, vicious and beautiful and insane.
But gradually the hands stilled, held wordlessly, then drifted free, and Jez made a quiet sound when Azazeal withdrew from him completely. It didn't take the gradual cooling of the room to tell him Azazeal would not be there when he turned around.
"Bastard," he said softly, and after a long pause to make sure his legs still worked, Jez awkwardly straightened, gave the desk a faintly disgusted look and started to pick up his clothes.
"You shouldn't be here." Azazeal failed to look apologetic, he smiled one of his long, easy smiles and stretched in the chair he was folded in. All eyes and hands in the darkness.
Jez watched him stand, watched him pull himself into the light and fill up all the available space with flesh and shadow. He turned away, went to the desk, dropping bag and folder. Azazeal's whims and amusements were his own.
But the shadow and the smell followed him, tugged his head round and made him face those smiling lips, that then pressed against his mouth, drew back, returned at an angle that seemed determined to push his own open. Instead Azazeal eased away, breathed across his face, then retreated, swayed off in another direction, in a slow, curious tour of his office.
"Someone could come by." Jez said quietly
"Who'd be so impolite as to knock at this hour?" Azazeal had stopped behind him, hands clasping his wrists and very carefully laying his hands flat on the desk, covering them and leaning in.
"Ah yes," shift of head against his own, trail of hair across his temple, breath against his ear.
"The delightful little tramp with her flirtations and suggestions. Schemes for pleasure, emboldened and exhilarated by the idea that you were infatuated with her, when the truth was quite different." Long hand, sharp and hot and in his hair, pulling sharply until Jez's neck creaked in a variety of unpleasant ways, and some not so unpleasant. Other hand sliding up his neck, curling round his throat and holding. He couldn't hold in the sharply drawn breath, or the swallow that formed under Azazeal's palm.
"What would she think do you wonder if she knew the real depths you'll sink to for pleasure?" Fingernails dug into his scalp, but there was no longer any creeping malice in the tone, there was something teasing, something questioning.
"The depths you'll sink to for me?" Warm hands dragging his jacket from his shoulders, dropping it without a pause to shove up shirt and jumper, pushing relentlessly until it was a tangled pile on the floor, and Jez was braced on the long desk, one of Azazeal’s hands sliding up and down his bare back, proprietary and unhurried. Breath against his ear, then hands tilting his head, awkward and painful, but Azazeal would have what he wanted.
"Oh there are so many things you know how to do with your mouth-" Another tug at his jaw, fingertips digging in and pulling until Azazeal had him open, pressed down into him, tongue sliding in and then out, determined to tease them both. A word against his jaw, silent and untranslatable, then lips against his ear, the side of his neck.
"Why must you always waste it on questions and arguments."
Hands spread on his chest, moving only in tiny increments, fingers flexing against the muscles, as if Azazeal was tempted to dig in until he could feel them better. Jez wasn't entirely sure they wouldn't but they dropped finally and Azazeal nudged his head back round and down, left him looking at the desk, breathing hard.
Hands circled his waist, thumbs sliding under belt and waistband.
"What was she like?" Fingers pulled leather out of loops, pulling metal until the belt opened, folded down, warm and delicious against the frustrated heat below it.
"Tell me." A tug on his hair, and then a hand grasped the metal of the buckle and pulled hard. Jez grunted as the belt came free in a serious of sharp jerks, slapped the desk loudly enough that he inhaled and stiffened in the silence.
"Tell me," quieter now, fingers pulling at button and zipper until a hand could work it's way in, rest with intent but no movement against the curve of a hip. Jez licked his lips, made his throat work.
"She was enthusiastic." Breath of laughter, shift of fingers to just brush against the edge of his erection pulling a hiss out of him.
"And?" Nudge against his arse, question and promise and threat, he swallowed again.
"Inventive," he said quietly.
"Confident...she had a beautiful mouth," Azazeal kissed his ear.
"More beautiful than mine?" Hard shake of his head, no, never. Rewarded by such loyalty with a hand moving sideways and curling tightly round him, couldn't stop the other hand from moving off of the desk, grasping Azazeal's wrist and pushing, just a little.
"You're so disobedient." Azazeal said softly against his ear, but didn't punish him for it.
Instead, hands sliding up and out just far enough to push at the material, easing it down hips and thighs until it fell in a heap, and Azazeal made a hard noise in his throat, fingers digging in to the bare skin of his hips.
"Step out." Azazeal said sharply.
"I want you naked." Jez said nothing, simply pushed off his shoes and stepped out of his trousers and shorts, bending long enough to tug his socks off. His belt still hung from Azazeal's fingers, dark and warm and suggestive that it might not be tossed to the floor and forgotten.
"Lovely though you are, you're still mine, to use however and whenever I wish. All the tangled choices in-between mean nothing." Slide of hands round his thighs, pulling them open slightly, then one shifted, pressed down hard in the middle of Jez's back, not a request. Sliding up and curling round his neck, pushing until his forehead touched the desk and holding him there.
"That's perfect," a breath, taken and held, then released in a quiet sound that was all temptation and sin.
"You're delicious you know."
Azazeal was silent for a long moment other hand tight at his waist, thumb working absently against his hipbone.
"I want to ruin you." Azazeal said quietly, hand releasing his neck to glide down back muscle and the trembling skin that coated Jez's ribs. Jez was tempted to tell him he already had done. Fingers dug into the muscle of his arse, hard enough to bruise and tense enough to leave him breathing into the wood, watching it go damp and dark under his mouth.
Polished shoe pushing his legs further apart, then fingers again, lower and focused, then just one, trailing and gliding, provoking tension in thigh and calf, jerk of stomach muscle as it drifted down, between and intent and there. Bit down on a gasp as it went inside, all the way and his hands curled round the edge of the desk. He shut his eyes, lashes brushing the wood, and Azazeal leant into him, all heat and muscle and soft cloth, a mouth opened at his shoulder, from lips to teeth and back again before he could made a sound.
"It's been an age since I opened your skin." Whispered against his back, soft and nostalgic.
Three fingers inside him now, and the hand had drifted off of his neck to untangle Azazeal from his own clothes, or enough of them that he could take what he wanted, brush of heat that wasn't fabric and Jez rolled his head, took a deep shuddering breath. Nothing inside him now, fingers gone to wrap tightly round his thigh.
"Tell me you want me?" Azazeal said quietly,
"You know I do." He said simply.
"Tell me anyway." Jez lifted his head just a little.
"I want you."
Taken on the last breath of words, deep and hard with no hesitation, and Azazeal was on and over and inside him and all he could do was dig his fingers into the desk and groan shakily. Shift of hips, heavy and insistent, not content to remain still.
"I'm left wondering," Azazeal said softly, hands sliding up Jez's ribcage, and it was clear he wanted Jez's attention in more ways than he currently had it.
"Wondering...fuck...wondering what?" He managed.
"Your little amusement." Slide of hands up his back, touching or holding him down he couldn't tell.
"I have to wonder what she'd do if she knew exactly how well you know how to play the game." Press of hips from Azazeal, hard enough to make Jez's hands shift on the desk.
"What would you do then, hmm?"
"I wouldn't-" a choke of noise, words cut off on a particularly vicious thrust. Azazeal dug a hand in his hair, tilted his head out of the wood.
"You wouldn't what." Had to close his eyes.
"Wouldn't tell her." Hands dragging his hips back, making him swear and bite his lip and groan into the desk.
"I might," Azazeal said, leaning forward and pinning his hands, hot and needy and jealous. Startling revelation and for a long shocked moment all Jez could do was breath in sharp hard bursts and let Azazeal take him.
Tease of an idea, too strange to be real and too visceral to not be. But his silence seemed to affect Azazeal in some way, hands sliding under his body, warm and curious and he inhaled, swayed away from the desk just enough to let Azazeal's hands slide down and touch him.
Burst of air against his cheek, threat of teeth there and so delicious this close to the edge that he had to tilt his head and press just the slightest bit against him. Close and hot and the brutal, insistent, continual shift of Azazeal's hips was going to kill him. Gasping against his ear, breath flesh hot, Azazeal no longer sounded half as controlled as he liked to appear.
When Jez pushed back against him he sounded less so, which was perfect because he needed it, and he was prepared to be ruthless getting it, though not entirely certain if Azazeal would let him, but he'd already hit too much and not enough, and he tensed to go under. Both of them falling apart in a serious of ragged, desperate movements, and Jez was left braced on his hands, gasping and shuddering and swearing with no restraint or reason, and Azazeal was still touching him, vicious and beautiful and insane.
But gradually the hands stilled, held wordlessly, then drifted free, and Jez made a quiet sound when Azazeal withdrew from him completely. It didn't take the gradual cooling of the room to tell him Azazeal would not be there when he turned around.
"Bastard," he said softly, and after a long pause to make sure his legs still worked, Jez awkwardly straightened, gave the desk a faintly disgusted look and started to pick up his clothes.
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Date: 2007-09-07 10:47 pm (UTC)This was...really, really good. Your characterization was spot on. And the entire thing was just...sexy. In a really creepy and really good way. I applaud you.
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Date: 2007-09-08 06:25 am (UTC)