boyofprogress | closed rp for [recursiveimpulse]

It's a terrible idea, professionally.

But currently, his higher brain functions are rather firmly erased by a mix of alcohol and lust, and the feeling of Viktor pressed against him. And then, he realizes, the feeling of Viktor pressed against him, and he groans at the sensation.

Still, he's greedy for more. He wants something, feeling restless and needy and without warning, he grips the backs of Viktor's thighs and turns the two of them to set Viktor on the edge of the closest desk, standing between his legs.

His hands tug uselessly at Viktor's shirt in a messy attempt to untuck it, and he smears his mouth over the sharp angle of Viktor's jaw. "Fuck you are so hot."

Oh. Well, then, that answers questions of continued consent for a moment or two, now doesn't it?

There's something in Viktor, deep down - a tendency that doesn't normally get indulged...but now? Now, he's being picked up and praised by a man so much bigger than him, and that tendency is greedy for more attention.

"You think so?" It's half-gasped, half-purred. He's made up his mind. He takes the risk, his hand wrenching and YANKING Jayce's hair backward to look him in the eye, gaze burning.

"Then be a good boy and pay attention to what you are trying to do."

Viktor's eyes are like embers as they burn into him, smoldering. Bright with intent, with command, and Jayce can't remember the last time he'd gotten this hard this fast. The hand in his hair, the sharp pull hits just right and he stares back down at his partner, lips parted and breath panting.

"Yeah," he says, dumbly. Trying to remember what he was even trying to do in the first place. Right -- Viktor's shirt. And his fifteen fucking vests. It's a struggle, but he manages to get his hands to cooperate and work together and start unbuttoning the first layer, starting at the bottom and working his way up. "Fuck, yeah."

Viktor's head swims a little. The rush of heat as he watches Jayce obey him so readily, so eagerly - it has him wet enough that his packer shifting against him is starting to make him pant and flush.

He still knows he'll have to explain, but - not yet. Not yet, while Jayce is being so accomodating.

"If I didn't know better," he purrs, his voice low and rumbling, "I might think that you get off on being a good boy, Jayce."

"Only if I'm yours." The answer comes fast and easy and a little breathless, his fingers trembling as he finishes unbuttoning the vest and starts in on the shirt, taking the same path bottom to top.

Gods, how long has he been waiting for this? Maybe not the first night they met, but not long after. There's been a tension between them, almost physically tangible, and Jayce is hoping they can start to resolve it tonight.

Viktor's tie is still there, but it's fine. He can take care of that in a second. If Viktor tells him to.

"Let's see how you do, then." It feels like such a rush, leaning into this kind of play - but like so many things in their work already, it seems that Jayce fits seamlessly in the spaces where Viktor does not.

He tries not to flinch or look away as his shirt is opened - the scars on his chest are not so pronounced, compared to what his back looks like, so perhaps it will all keep sliding by.

(He could just tell him. But he's been burned before, and if it's going to happen again, he may as well have what fun he can first.)

"Your precision is still pretty good...even with your hands shaking."

The scars don't register for what they actually are; because of the leg and back braces, Jayce assumes Viktor has plenty of scars, perhaps from past treatments, or from the wear of leather and metal against skin.

No, he's more focused, in this moment, on that gap in the leather at the bottom of Viktor's ribcage, where his skin is visible. Accessible, even, and Jayce's hands fit in that space as if magnetized. Viktor's skin is cooler than his, but Jayce tends to run hot, anyway.

"My hands are shaking because I want you so damned bad," he sighs, giving Viktor a nervous but oh-so-eager smile. "What next?"

That comment actually gets a breathless laugh out of Viktor - it's almost giddy, accompanied by a little wrinkle of the nose. It feels sort of nice to be objectified.

"Good boy. The pants next."

He has to say it soon.

Just...not yet.

Oh Janna's mercy, yes. Jayce lets out a whine, his fingers pressing briefly against Viktor's sides while he gathers himself enough to attend to the task at hand.

He leans in to brush their mouths together, one hand sliding between them to press his palm against the front of Viktor's fly -- and he pauses. He was expecting heat and firm flesh, but that isn't what he's feeling. Not exactly, anyway.

Jayce pulls back with a puzzled expression, raising his eyebrows at Viktor. "Wh -- "

...Shit. Okay, maybe he should have said it a little sooner.

His brows pinch together, expression apologetic. "...Uh, Jayce, there is - since we are doing this,n there is...something about my body that you...should know ahead of time."

Oh, that expression tugs at his heart a little, and Jayce rests his hands against Viktor's hips again, nosing at his cheek in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. "Anything, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

Ugh, how can he be so nice?

He blushes deeper, watching the other man up through his eyelashes with nervous eyes.

"...Well...I...the truth is, Jayce, that I was...born...incorrectly."

"... I know," he answers, brow furrowing in confusion. His left hand moves down to settle just above Viktor's knee, his thumb tracing over the top of the brace.

"Your leg turns in a bit, I think you said? So it needs correcting."

Oh.

Viktor laughs, soft and breathy. "It - does, yes, but that...is not what I was talking about." He shivers, briefly, at the huge, warm, gentle hand skating over his bad leg...but there's a matter at hand.

He takes a long breath to steady himself, and then...gently, he grabs Jayce's hand and directs it to one of the scars on his chest.

"I was not...born a man, Jayce. What you...felt down there is...a prosthetic. For packing."

This conversation might have been easier were Jayce more sober, as the confession takes a moment to soak into his brain. But then his thumb his brushing against the surgery scar, and things click into place more firmly.

"Okay..." he says slowly, processing this new information and realizing that it changes nothing about his want, his feelings for Viktor. It just means he might have to shift his approach a little. "Then tell me how you like to be touched?" he offers, gentle but hopeful. Encouraging.

Viktor shudders, watching Jayce trace that scar with his warm hand. It's vulnerable, personal, and...well, the other man is being gentle and understanding about it.

He's beginning to realize that...that's just how Jayce is going to be.

He smiles, a little mystified.

"Like you would probably expect," he chuckles, still flushed and breathing hard. "And I am...sterile, so we should have no immediate need for protection."

He has to laugh a little; his partner is straight forward, as always, cutting directly to the point. Jayce has to kiss that faintly surprised looking smile, tugging Viktor's tie loose with a soft laugh. "That is very useful information for later, thank you Viktor.

For right now, my initial plan to stick my hand down your pants hasn't changed at all. If that sounds agreeable to you, still."

And now they're both laughing.

This is...fun.

"Yes. That sounds very agreeable to me."

"Yes? Perfect." It feels easy, still. Like talking with him is, like working with him is. It's one more extension of their partnership. A natural evolution from where they started to here, it feels like.

Jayce braces on hand against the table next to Viktor's hip to help steady himself, nosing at Viktor's jaw as he undoes the button and fly of his trousers to slip his hand inside. His breath catches a little at the heat of him, so fucking warm and gods, wet already. He moves slowly, learning the shape and curve of him, keeping his touch light for the moment. "Do you have any idea," he sighs against Viktor's skin, "How fucking sexy you are?"

Metoidioplasty has left Viktor a little different than what Jayce is probably accustomed to - the clitoris is larger, more pronounced, and...well, erect. And the fresh dose of hormones in his body is dancing with all the vodka in his blood right now, making Jayce's touch damn near unbearable. He gasps and arches against the searching fingertips, nearly short-circuiting for a moment before he gets his wits back.

The compliment is - not one he has enjoyed before, but god, it is NICE to hear it. "Coming from you? I - ah! - I would call that a line, if I thought you we-ere - kurva - capable of insincerity."

It's all a little new, a little left of what he's used to, but familiar enough that it feels comfortable. And it's Viktor, so it feels easy. Especially the way Viktor is moving right now, pressing into his touch. Encouraging him to keep exploring and gods, he wants to see Viktor spread out on his bed. Wants to really take his time and learn every part of him until he knows his body like he knows his mind.

Viktor is swearing and Jayce huffs a laugh. "I'm pretty sure that's a naughty word, so I'm guessing I'm on the right track," he teases, stroking his thumb along the length of him, leaning up a little to nip and tug at Viktor's earlobe. "Does that mean you think I'm sexy, then?"

The desk isn't as comfortable as doing this on a bed would be, not at all - but it also feels sort of daring, enticing in a way that makes all of this just...exciting. New. Fun.

It's hard to want to speak when he's being rubbed like that, his dark lashes low against his pale cheeks - but he wants to get the reins back. So when Jayce starts to tease, Viktor suddenly grabs for the back of his hair, giving it another firm yank.

"Under the right circumstances...yes. I do."

The yank on his hair pulls his head back, sucking in a breath, and his cock absolutely throbs in his pants. His pants tend to fight him fairly tightly anyway, and he feels almost exposed at the moment with the way they hide little to nothing of his desire, a damp spot forming where his cock is pressed against the material.

He locks gazes with Viktor, his eyes so dark they're almost molten, lips parted while he does his breath to keep his breathing steady. And fails, miserably.

"I'm not saying to stop," he grits out, voice dropping into something low and needy. "But I'll tell you that if you keep pulling my hair like that, I'm going to drop to my knees so damn fast."

Oh. That look is -

Viktor lets out a shaking breath of his own, his jaw dropping a little open as his heavy breathing becomes panting.

He would be lying if he said he hadn't snuck a peek. And right now, the contour of the other man is...well, it's PROMISING.

His smile is wicked as he yanks again.

"Don't try to threaten me with FUN, Jayce."

Viktor pulls his hair again, and Jayce takes his hand away to rest it on Viktor's thigh instead, sinking to his knees in front of him. Because sweet Janna, he likes the wicked tilt of that grin, and wants to see more of it.

He slides his palms over Viktor's thighs, his breaths coming out short and sharp. "I've been dying to get on my knees for you for ages. There's no place on your body I don't want to put my mouth right now."

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