Attention Tinkerbell

[l0vemekn0t]

Gifts are a thing Bishop likes to give. But he doesn’t do it often. Who knows really why he got this sudden inspiration but it was there and the recipient was an annoying one. Annoying and one of his favorites. Which made all of this even more annoying.

So what did he do? Made it extra annoying.
The first gift was sent to Jaspers home.
The second gift was left in Jaspers car.
The third was hand delivered by some poor man that would have to walk into the lions den to get it to him.

All of them were put in disgustingly pink boxes.
With black bows.
All without tags.
All without a name.

And then he sent him black roses because that was icing on the cake.

Now, he could get some work done. Namely finding a name, and address, and a schedule.

Comments

[fulldark]

Knowledge was the thing that Jasper prided himself on having a lot of; knowledge of people and how they respond, how they bleed, how they break, knowledge of what weapons are the best for what job, knowledge of motives and interests and connections, knowledge of the exact right angle to to arch and pout to distract. It is what keeps him and his alive after all, if he can't figure out how someone is going to react to a threat, or where everyone's weaknesses are, then he would make a really terrible boss. Or a dead one, probably a dead one.

He isn't being cocky when he says he usually knows what people are going to do before they do themselves, it's what he's good at.

So to say that the gifts that make their way to his doorstep (and driver's seat), dressed in pink and black, surprise him is all the more poignant. It's a little bit like being stunned by a hit to the head, Jasper thinks as he unties the black ribbon to open the first gift. He knows who it's from, the black gives it away, and the sight of the expensive lace before him has Jasper barking out a sharp laugh in the confines of his room (sure sure, he should have had someone go over the thing before he opened it to check but-- but Jasper knew and maybe he's a fucking idiot but he trusts Bishop, wouldn't keep ending up in his orbit otherwise). The second gift, left perched atop his bike, has him all but purring in satisfaction, grin sly and dark as he tucks the blades away alongside the others on his person as he heads out for a small job.

The third gift and the roses just-- well perhaps baffle isn't the right word, but it's a near thing. Jasper ends up settling against his sheets (pink silk, of course) with the lace on his person, hair twisted up with the pin, and the edge of one of the blades pressed against his lips. It's a perfect shot, angled just so that enough skin is on display (sans glitter, for once), but still teasing. He sends it to Bishop without anything else.

He will also show up at Bishop's place twenty minutes later, lace still peeking from loose trousers and his open white shirt. Jasper snaps the fan shut and kicks the door to Bishop's office closed before he stalks towards him, moving the chair back and pushing his thighs open so that Jasper can settle himself on the floor between them. He's going to make quick work of your belt there, Bishop.

"Don't stop on my account, wrap up whatever you're doing there, sweetheart, you're busy for the rest of the evening." And that's all he gets before he is pulling Bishop's cock out of his pants and swallowing around him with a soft hum.

[l0vemekn0t]

In terms of trust maybe they’re both idiots, because Bishop does trust Jasper. Maybe that will be his downfall at some point in the future but for now he likes to humor the idea that they can continue to enjoy this thing between them. There’s a special brand of affection between them that’s laced with barbs and a little venom, and he likes it that way. The same way he likes that they both can have Baein and no one gets stupid over it.

Throughout the day Bishop checks the clock, knowing when each gift will be unwrapped or delivered and he makes little bets with himself on how long it will take for Jasper to finally end up here.

And he knows that at some point Jasper will show up. He always does. Whatever his reaction will be is always the surprise.

So Bishop gets as much work done as he can while battling a bit of anticipation. On one hand he wonders if the fan will come flying at him when the door opens, or maybe the hair pin. Both options would be entertaining to say the least.

Those options go out the window, however, when he receives the photo. Beautiful. Jasper is always beautiful. Dangerously so. He saves the photo and amuses himself at the idea of having it blown up and hung in one of his spare rooms. He hums and makes a note to do that. It would be funny for Jasper to find during their next redecoration episode.

After three minutes of consideration, he goes back to work; making a note of some important things to look at later because he knows he won’t have time to do it now. Definitely not when he looks up to find his door being kicked closed and he hums.

“You liked them, then,” he lets the chair be pushed back, enjoys the view for a moment and reaches out to run a finger along the sharp point of the hair stick, “Looks nice on you.”

And the laptop is closed.

[fulldark]

There is a thought somewhere in the back of Jasper's mind that reminds him that this means something; whether that means he has to get back at Bishop in some way or that perhaps the way his heart trips over itself at the thought of Bishop getting his size right is going to have to wait until he is not so focused on the man in question.

Or you know it could wait until forever, Jasper likes that idea too.

The floor is hard where it digs into his knees, but Bishop's pants are soft beneath his fingers as he presses a little harder at the statement. Liked them. Would he be here now if he didn't? (Don't answer that.) With a roll of his eyes, Jasper confirms it by hollowing his cheeks a little, relaxing his jaw a little more to take Bishop down even further, throat constricting and his breathing stuttering.

Fuck, he does enjoy this. Even more when Bishop is touching his hair and giving him such soft low compliments. Yeah, he will hum a little at that, eyes dropping a little as he focuses on not choking.

[l0vemekn0t]

There’s a certain shadow in Jaspers eyes that matches his own and he knows what it means. Knows the secret there. Knows that it will never be spoken of out loud and would probably go to the grave with them. But, Bishop knows what it means and it warms little caverns inside of himself that he pretends don’t exist.

Jasper has the potential to be so much more than he is now if Bishop could ignore everything else. But he can’t. And honestly…it’s safer if people didn’t know how far he would be willing to go for this idiot. Idiot with all of his sparkles (that he’s surprisingly not wearing this time…) and sharp tongue.

It’s soft at the moment and Bishop almost melts against his chair to deeper the other pulls him into his throat. Jaspers mouth is warm and he can feel the threat of sharp teeth but that’s never been a real threat.

The hair pin is slid free to release the others hair so he can better tangle his fingers into it; pulling him in tighter. If he gags, he’ll recover. Add it to the list of things to get him back for.

“Wish you would have taken all of the extra’s off so I could see the whole package.” Amused, he taps his bottom lip with the base of the hair pin. Yes, that is him saying he wants that shirt and those pants to cease to exist.

[fulldark]

It's stupid, is what it is. Reckless. Asking for a knife in the ribs (already kind of feels like one to Jasper). But that doesn't matter, Jasper keeps coming back, stuck in Bishop's gravity well like a star to a singularity; pieces of him keep getting pulled off, pulled away leaving him without another layer of fire and combustion, but he can't leave (doesn't want to leave?). It's so fucking stupid, but Jasper doesn't want to stop.

So he doesn't. He pushes into Bishop's hand as it pulls the pin free, chokes on his next inhale but doesn't fight it at all. He squirms for a moment until he manages to tip his head just so, blinks wetly up at Bishop and all but surrenders.

Stupid stupid stupid.

At the words Jasper hum, tries to turn as best he can in the hold Bishop has on him to pick up the fan of knives. They are sharp, perfect and new and Jasper adores them so fucking much. And he knows they will be more than sharp enough to get through the fine cotton of his shirt, which is what he implies as he twists them just so beneath the open collar of his shirt, pressing up until the fabric gives ever so slightly. He can't do it all himself, considering, and raises the handle to Bishop.

Stupidstupidstupidstupid.

[l0vemekn0t]

It’s easy to draw things out when they’re in public, or around other people. It’s even fun. Sometimes things go for hours, depending on where they are. A party. A meeting. Whatever it may be. Cat and mouse in a way.

It’s harder to want to draw them out when they’re alone.

There’s a calm and then there’s a storm.

Calm is fine while Bishop watches him. He looks beautiful like that. Glossy eyed and fighting with himself. It’s the blades that start to stir up something closer to a storm when they’re opened up and moved so closely to such vulnerable area’s—

—and then they’re willingly offered to him to finish?

Stupidity at it’s finest…and so trusting that Bishop almost groans. Why were they like this? Why was it always like this? Why did he have to— Did Jasper do this on purpose?

“Oh, I hate you,” he breathes, grabbing the handle away from him. It gets pushed onto his desk (safe) so he can reach down and get this moron off of his knee’s and up into his lap, “You don’t just give someone a weapon like that when you’re that vulnerable,” stupid. So is this stupid shirt. Or it was while it existed. It’s torn the rest of the way and yanked off of Jaspers shoulders to die on the floor.

[fulldark]

Easy was never the way that Jasper liked things; nothing good come from easy (maybe that's the trauma talking) and he was always rather suspicious of things that didn't come with a little struggle, a little pain. The pushpullpush he had with Bishop was intoxicating, and it's been that way from the start, when Jasper had thoughts to slide a knife through his ribcage to pry it open like it might hold a pearl. Sometimes he still has that though, but it leaves him feeling shaken and thinking that he never really liked pearls anyway.

What he does like is the way that Bishop's eyes darken as Jasper moves the knife around, the way his breath catches and the realization sinks in at just what Jasper is offering up. It would be a deathwish with anyone else. Still might be a deathwish, but Jasper thinks that Bishop slitting his throat would hurt less than a few other things he could do.

Jasper is laughing, breathless and wet, when Bishop hauls him off the floor, sans the blades, and into his lap. He winds his arms around Bishop's neck and mouths along his jaw, words punch drunk and soft.

"So never give you weapons, huh." It's far too telling a thing to say, so Jasper covers it up with a harsh bite to the tendon in Bishop's neck, above where his collar sits to make sure it's visible. "Didn't give someone a weapon, gave you some knives."

Fuck. That's telling to. Jasper leans back and begins to unbuckle his pants, revealing more lace that fits him perfectly. "Would have taken it off when I got in, but you look terribly hot when you're working..."

[l0vemekn0t]

At this point Bishop doubts he would ever be able to seriously kill Jasper. If the idea of anyone else doing it sends him into a rage, there’s no way he would be able to watch that deviant sparkle ever leave his eyes and know he was the one who did it. But if he did, he wouldn’t let him suffer the way other people would. That’s a dark path he’d rather not think about right now, however.

He swallows a groan at the bite and his hips shift on their own accord. Always wanting to be closer. Closer…closer…

And the moment Jasper gets his pants undone enough to start moving them down, Bishop lifts him up again but onto the desk so he can finish getting them off, “You could have just worn one of those ridiculously expensive long coats of yours and we would be two step further than we are now.”

And yet, he doesn’t really care, because when he finishes talking he’s already diving into a deeper kiss. The kind he’s only shared with Jasper in a very, very long time. The ones that make it obvious that the only reason you’re still breathing is because the other person is there. And maybe he can admit Jasper is a lifeline in his own way.

His but never really his because…reasons.

“Fits perfectly,” he adds softly when he pulls back to look him over, “does that make you mad or do you like it that I knew?”

[fulldark]

Death was always something that lingered outside their peripheral; a constant, something to count on. Jasper knew he was going to die, and probably sooner rather than later, but he feels like he would rather it be Bishop's hands than anyone else's. And that thought will linger with him long after the ache in his muscles from this little encounter, bruising him from the inside out.

The twitch of Bishop's hips make him smirk, has him wriggling a little more to get a bit more friction even as the pants come off. The smirk falters though as he is lifted and fuckfuckfuck he shouldn't find that hot, shouldn't hope for the press of Bishop's fingers against him to leave bruises. "Ah, perhaps. But I did have a stop to make on the way, and it wasn't the best idea for me to be in something too conspicuous."

Perhaps he had more to say, about where he went and how he might feel strange letting other people see him in something given to him by Bishop, but then he is being kissed like the world is ending and he forgets all about that. When the kiss breaks, Jasper doesn't even try to hide how worked up he is, leaning back on the desk and huffing out a noise as he almost preens beneath the look.

"Bit of both, like that you know, but--" He shrugs, because maybe that is enough for Bishop to understand. It's unnerving but also reassuring, and it's a bit of a reminder that he is in over his head. He doesn't want to remember that for now, so he's gonna hook a long leg around Bishop's hips and pull him in, one hand going to his tie to pull him down for another demanding kiss.

[l0vemekn0t]

No, they weren’t going to think about dying or death even if it was inevitable. It hurt in ways he didn’t like to think about - and that in itself is proof that this shouldn’t be happening at all.

But Bishop is weak when it comes to those smirks, the razor sharp tongue that is so good at kissing that he forgets who the hell he is sometimes. The scars he knows he’s given him; a little treasure map etched on the others perfect skin for people to wonder about and never really know.

“I know,” it’s all he says because he does know, knowing is more important than telling in some cases. Even if he had wanted to elaborate, he was silenced (for the most part) with another kiss. It’s teeth and…sometimes it changes into something secret and warm before one of them snaps out of it before they can fall into that trap again. Still, his hands roam over lace, and skin, and his palm covers the rigid length hidden there behind it. But lets face it, that’s not what he really wants access to.

[fulldark]

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid-- and Jasper knows that it is, but he just keeps doing it. Keeps coming back and keeps wanting to come back even when there is that lingering feeling of dread that follows. But it isn't dread that makes Jasper moan into Bishop's mouth, isn't guilt that makes hims shiver and arch into him as he wraps himself closeclosercloser as he licks into his mouth; it's just desire.

"Hn, got a present for you too." He speaks softly, smirk on his face as he tips his head to the side and leans back again. His lips are bruised and eyes dark, but he still looks mischievous. Still looks ready to tease Bishop or kiss him breathless again in equal measure. Might even manage both at the same time if he tries hard enough. Which he will.

Later.

Now he is moving to give Bishop more room to touch him, to admire the fine lace that the gifted to Jasper. It does fit perfectly, and Jasper is impressed and annoyed about it, but if it keeps Bishop touching him like this....

"You've got--hn, good taste. I'm impressed."

[l0vemekn0t]

Good taste.

Bishop stills for a few seconds and just admires the man on his desk. He’s stunning and it pisses him off. Mostly because this thing they have isn’t technically allowed. Being on opposite sides of the fence — that’s really what pisses him off. It’s what makes it dangerous for both of them. One day they’ll have to stop. Whether Sungki gets involved or Ward. Maybe. Maybe deep down he’s preparing for that.

Those thoughts drift away while Jasper stretches a little there, showing off…everything. He doesn’t have to. He knows damn well Bishop wants him. He always wants him.

“I do have good taste,” he agreed. He’s not talking about the lace, though.

Lace that he’s actually careful in peeling off of the others lower half.

[fulldark]

There had been a thought, the first time they had crossed paths (or maybe the second time, the first time where Jasper wasn't actively attempting to murder Bishop), where he thought that the two of them being from opposite sides of the street was kind of funny. Like Romeo and Juliet, or West Side Story, but with less feeling and more fucking, and probably the same amount of death. Now-- well it isn't quite as funny a thought. He tries not to think about what could happen, about how terrible of a fucking idea it is, but he also can't help but think about how Bishop isn't really stopping it either.

Jasper thinks again of gravity wells, of event horizons, and of the inescapable things that can eat away at you slowly. Thinks about how now seems to stretch on forever, and he's okay with that, wants to feel the way that Bishop handles him like he is something precious and delicate, even if it's only for the lace (has to tell himself it's only for the lace or he might do something stupid).

"Hmmm, you certainly do-- ah." It's the way he shifts, moving to help Bishop remove the last of the lace from his hips, that makes the little gift he has for Bishop shift inside of him and makes him moan, head tipping back and thighs shaking a little more. The smile he shoots Bishop is lopsided.

[l0vemekn0t]

The whole problem here was the fact that Bishop didn’t just see Jasper as this perfect play thing anymore. Oh, they played. They definitely played. But the sex changed somewhere along the line. The texts weren’t always just bitchy comments anymore. He still hung up on him a lot, though. And they’ve wasted thousands of dollars worth of alcohol just chucking it across a room for some dumb verbal barb that they both meant nothing.

There was one time, though, where he actually meant to hit who Jasper was with but the idiot moved and he missed. That had been annoying.

His eyes shift from the toy—excuse him, the gift—and that strangely boyish smile.

He laughs lowly before he can catch himself, and both hands run along the others thighs until he’s curled over and kissing him again, “come home with me later,” he whispers even though he knows no one can hear it.

[fulldark]

What started as some kind of stress relief slash childish urge to do something he wasn't supposed to, has turned into something that very muchly so has the ability to ruin Jasper's life. Ruin both of their lives, and the lives of those that depend on them as well. That should stop him, it really should, and maybe it is his knowledge that Sungki and Baein and even Daeshim would be fine without him that keeps him going. Or maybe he is just greedy.

Yeah, that sounds like him.

He is greedy, wants more of this; wants more of Bishop and his attention, of Bishop and his pissed off face, and his snarky remarks, wants more of these strangely perfect gifts and bruises in the shape of Bishop's hands. He wants and it's going to drown him. Better yet, he is going to let it.

Jasper almost pouts when Bishop laughs, is trying to muster up a barb of sorts, but then Bishop is kissing him and it's softsoftsoftstupidstupidsoft and Jasper ends up gasping into the kiss as he moves to wrap his arms around Bishop's shoulder's to deepen the kiss. It's stupid, because it means he is relying entirely on Bishop to keep him from smacking his head against the desk, but what is even more stupid is how he knows Bishop won't let him.

"Fuck," it's a sigh against Bishop's lips, fingers curling in his hair against his neck. Jasper hums, shivers and tries to gather his thoughts that are scattered like the glitter he leaves all over Bishop's sheets. "'f course, you better still fuck me over this desk though. Been a bit of a fantasy of mine."

[l0vemekn0t]

Bishop would hurt Jasper. Would allow Jasper to get hurt. But there’s a limit. And the limit is a lot shorter when they’re alone like this. His fuse is a lot longer here, too.

He likes the way he pulls at him; the sensation of his hands in his hair, wrapped around him. He likes the little sighs and the way his body shivers just so. His fingers reach down to tease between the others legs, against the toy lodged inside of him, rocking it this way and that as he continues to kiss him. Biting. Licking. And he smiles a bit breathlessly as he looks down into that face that so many want and can’t have. He shouldn’t. But here they are. Making stupid promises, breathing the same air, tempting the same fate.

“And it’s taken you this long?” He sounds baffled, amused, disappointed all at once. But there’s another kiss and he’s breaking away to sit back down in his chair and he pushes his legs further apart, “So what is it hm?”

[fulldark]

Before, Jasper might have thought to test the limit of just how far Bishop was willing to go, how hurt he would let Jasper get, but it is so very different now. Now and here where Jasper finds himself being needy, finds himself trying to touch as much of Bishop as he can until the other is pressing against the toy and making him shake.

"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, Bishop--" There is a ghost of a please just barely on his lips as Bishop leave a trail of fire on his skin and Jasper can feel how his cock twitches against his stomach, how his muscles flex and toes curl, the pleasure building in a delicious rhythm.

And then Bishop fucking stops with a kiss before he is sitting back in his chair and Jasper whines. If looks could kill, Bishop would be bleeding out in that chair where he sits once Jasper musters up the energy to look up, chest rising and falling as he glowers at that stupidly infuriatingly attractive face. Fuck. He doesn't even know what Bishop is asking him right now.

"What is wha-- oh my fucking. I can't fucking believe--" He doesn't care that this is your office, that he is naked from the waist down and hard and looking half way to fucked out, he uses his long (still lace clad) legs to kick at the chair between Bishop's open legs, sending him back into the bookcase. He then sits himself up, propped on his arms despite the shake in them. "If you don't fuck me, I will go out there and find someone else who can." No he won't. "I swear to fucking god..."

[l0vemekn0t]

That isn’t how things work anymore.

When he moved from his new spot against the bookcase, he isn’t entirely sure until he’s found himself yanking Jasper off of the desk and has him turned, and flipped, bent over the desk like he wanted, with one arm twisted around behind his back to keep him there.

“Don’t swear to God when you know you’re lying,” Bishop breathes lowly against his ear.

Pushing the others legs further apart with his knee, his free hand reaches down between them and slowly pulls the toy free. He gives it a look over, “Impressive. Now,” he takes a breath and sets the toy down on the desk so he can focus on the silly blond with pink still in his hair, “take it back.”

[fulldark]

Have things ever really worked that way? Jasper can't remember the last time he chose someone else over Bishop. Fuck, he can barely remember the last time he slept with someone else full stop that wasn't Bishop or Baein. Sure, there is still flirting and seducing, but that was for information, for a part of his job, not because he really wanted someone else.

And that thought rattles around in his skull as Bishop expertly manhandles him until he is bent over the table just like he wanted, pressure against his back and an ache in his shoulder where it twists backward. Jasper's breath is punched out of him in a broken moan, head pressing against the wood of the desk as Bishop pulls the toy out and he can feel the heady rush of arousal and adrenaline and--

"Fucking hell, Bishop, you-- ah-" The noise that slips out when he shifts, trying to look back, is rough around the edges, catches on the swell of his lip where he presses his teeth in hard to hold it back. Futile, but he tries."T-take back what, the present?"

Brat? Him? Never.

[l0vemekn0t]

Always.

“You know damn well what I want you to take back,” Bishop sighs and noses behind the others ear, “You came to me. You wouldn’t go anywhere else.” Except to Baein, if he really wanted sex. He might still go to the church for something else.

Maybe he just wants confirmation. To know Jasper…

That’s stupid. He stopped thinking about Jasper being with other people a long time ago. He had to. It drove him crazy otherwise. He’s seen him flirt with many a person. Something he just has to swallow because if not—secrets out.

This fight probably isn’t even worth it, really. He’s here. He’s not actively trying to get away (he would be loose if he actually planned on leaving).

It’s all just word vomit, really.

And there’s no need for normal people foreplay. The toys done as intended so wasting time is pointless. His fingers brush along the others entrance, feelings just inside to make sure there’s enough lube intact to not leave them miserable for being reckless. And then he releases his arm and pushes inside of him in one solid, smooth roll of his hips.

[fulldark]

The words Bishops speaks in his ear, low and so fucking sure, trickle down Jasper's spine like molten gold. He bites back another noise, something soft and wounded, but tips his head to give Bishop more room. Actions and words, he thinks distantly. Though fuck he loves to hear Bishop when he's like this; a little angry, a little possessive, very sure of himself.

Jasper exhales a curse, rests his cheek against the desk, and wriggles (for show) beneath Bishop's hold. "Ah, wouldn't go anywhere else? Me?"

There is more to be said, more lies just to see how Bishop reacts if he will leave more marks on Jasper's skin, more more more more, but then Bishop is pressing his fingers against him, quick and efficient, and Jasper barely has time to raise a brow, question forming on his lips before he is being filled. It knocks a keen from him as his now free hand moves to grip at the desk, back arching and legs shaking because fuck it's so fucking good. So good.

Jasper can't even be mad that Bishop is right, he doesn't go to anyone else anymore. Just Bishop. Just--

"Ah, fuck, Bishop!" He is definitely ruining whatever paperwork is below his head right now with tears and spit, but he doesn't care. Just tries to move to get enough purchase to rock back, and whines against when he can't.

[l0vemekn0t]

The paperwork is fine. Don’t you dare think about the paperwork. (Really he should be more mindful of said paperwork given Jasper is on the other side. But here we are: trust. Besides, it doesn’t effect him anyway.)

And here they’re at the typical crossroads.

Does he want to bruise him up? Smack him around? Pull his hair so hard he feels it later still?

Or does he want to just enjoy the warmth wrapped around him? Does he want to…

Both. The answer is both.

Which is why his hand does come down to slap the others ass once, hard enough that the sting will last. But he covers it with a warm palm, soothing it away as he chooses to run his hands over the others skin like he’s the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on. When his hand slips into his hair, it’s firm but he doesn’t pull so hard that it hurts. And his mouth leaves biting kisses that leave marks all along the curve of his shoulder; in places that won’t be as noticeable as the the ones Jasper gives him. They’re for him - no one else.

And when he fucks him its deeper than it is fast. Grinding himself into those specific areas he knows keep Jasper trembling like that. This is different than with anyone else, it always has been. Bishop has love for people, one in particular, one that he would absolutely die for if he had to. But Jasper is the endgame he won’t ever speak of.

[fulldark]

Trust is what has Jasper letting this happen, is what has him wearing the gifts that Bishop gave to him, has him more than willing to hand the other blades without fear. Trust and something rooted in his chest, twisting and twining around his ribs until every stuttered inhale that Jasper takes is filled with BishopBishopBishop.

And for once, Jasper doesn't fight it.

He moans out Bishop's name as the sting seeps into the skin of his ass, chokes on a moan of more when Bishop leaves marks over his neck and tugs his hair. Goes pliant and willing when Bishop snaps his hips hard and deep and--

"Bi--fuck, oh fuck, please. Right there, right there--" The way Bishop can play him so fucking perfectly has his eyes rolling back as the pleasure builds almost embarrassingly rapidly. If he could be embarrassed now. He is too pleasure drunk for that, and for his usual filter. "Just-- you. It's just you that I-- fuck!"

[l0vemekn0t]

Half finished sentences. Sentiments. That’s what they have every day. And every day it gets closer and closer to the dam just breaking and everything rushing out at once to drown them - for better or worse.

Bishop isn’t so much playing him as reading him; they’ve done this long enough that his body knows what every tremor means. Every panted breath, curse is a cue. And they’re never so far out of sync that he doesn’t understand it, that he doesn’t ride the ride right there with him. Not two paces ahead or behind. With him.

But he would be lying if his heart didn’t just stutter. Those words… that word: Just. Just him. Just…

Heat coils low in his belly, leaves his cock throbbing almost painfully inside of him, aching for a release that it seems only he can give him anymore. His pace picks up then, driving them both towards the cliff where its sink or swim.

“It’s just you, too,” he whispers so quietly he doubts Jasper will even hear it and moments later he’s rocking harder, pushing him a little more against that paperwork as he fills him up. The pleasure of it is heavy and thick and his throat tightens around a series of heated groans.

[fulldark]

Erosion was a slow but steady process, something that you don't notice at first but eventually the dripdripdrip carves out a space in your bones and the next thing you know you're shaking apart on the desk of a man you're not supposed to like let alone lo-- Fuckfuckfuck. It was never supposed to be like this, but Jasper doesn't know if he can bring himself to care. Not when he has Bishop fucking him so perfectly against the desk, when the feel of the lace on his skin is perfect and he wants the other to know that it really is just him that has frequented Jasper's bed for the last few months.

(And Baein, but he doubts that would surprise Bishop at all.)

Jasper keens as the pace increases and he knows that it's not going to be long at all before he is making a mess of the paperwork all over the desk. Every nerve ending is on fire, lighting him up from the inside out and turning his brain to static except for the way he breathes Bishop's name like a prayer. There is nothing else but the pleasure that he is given and the warmth of Bishop pressed so close against him and--

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, please just-- fuck!" It's the soft words he barely registers, the push and the feeling of being filled so fucking perfectly that has Jasper coming with a shout of a curse. He feels like a livewire as he shakes apart, orgasm seeming to draw itself out as he writhes as much as he can being pinned between Bishop and the desk. Honestly, it's a place he doesn't really want to leave.