"Yeah, okay." Jedao takes a quick gulp of breath for courage, then peels away the undershirt, revealing Jedao One's shockingly battle-scarred chest, with shrapnel scatters on top of old burns, knife slices and knotted asterisms from bullets on top of odd geometric graft patches. One nipple is totally absent.
"None of them hurt or anything," Jedao promises him. "They're just...a lot."
Eiffel does stare, admittedly, but it's not shock or horror. It's drinking Jedao in, like if he looks away he'll forget it all, and with the back of his fingers he glides a glancing touch over Jedao's ribs, before he pulls him in for a deep, genuine kiss.
"You look badass," he mumbles against his teeth, before he nips quickly at Jedao's tongue so he can't protest.
He makes a muffled noise into the kiss, because he was about to protest, but Eiffel has maneuvered him successfully, and he melts into the kiss for a little while, hands stroking from Eiffel's shoulders down his arms.
"It didn't all happen to me," he mutters when Eiffel is forced to pause for breath. "It's just cosmetic."
"That mean I'm not allowed to think it looks cool?" he pants, and his hands come back to loosen his tie, just enough that he can slip it over his collar and unbutton his own shirt as well. Which leaves him in just the tie and gloves, which feels weird as a look but he knows Jedao's going to love it, so he moves in again, bracing one hand behind Jedao's neck to kiss him deeply, as his left hand moves down to palm Jedao through his pants, hyperaware of the way he's practically rubbing himself at the same time with his forearm.
With his feet secure, that means he can kiss Jedao with force, pin him to the door so he can bring his hands down and start pushing Jedao's pants down too, low enough that he can take him in one hand and give him a long, tight stroke, before he reaches between his legs to explore, mostly letting the slick glide of leather on bare thighs do all the work.
"Fuck, oh fuck," Jedao mumbles between loud, helpless groans. He's desperately hard, leaking on the leather, hips twitching and jerking in haphazard little motions. It's so fucking dirty, it's demeaning in a way Eiffel has no idea about and Jedao had no idea he was kinked for, but he hasn't taken them off, he's just - touching him - with his gloves still on, like Jedao doesn't deserve his bare hands -
The gloves make him a bit bolder, the barrier of sensation between himself and Jedao giving him a bit more confidence than he'd normally have, and so he finds Jedao's ass to trace gently around his entrance before he remembers.
"I-I-- lube, 's'in my bedroom," he mumbles as he pulls back from kissing Jedao's jaw. "Do we wanna-?"
"Anything," Jedao gasps, struggling to spread his pinned legs, barely processing words.
There was a plan, wasn't there? He - thinking is hard - he thinks there was -
"Lemme suck you," he begs, yearning into the touch, leaving a smear of precome against Eiffel's forearm. "Let me get you wet, I don't need anything else -"
"Hey, hey-" Discomfort runs brief and sharp through Eiffel's stomach, bringing a moment of clarity with it, and he brings his hand up to brace Jedao's face and kiss him again, far softer and sweeter because of the way it's filled with concern. "You don't have to beg me, big guy. Kinda prefer it if you didn't, actually."
But he gives a warm, flushed smile. "You can go down on me. Just- asking once is fine." With another deep, reassuring kiss.
Jedao makes soft, squirmy noises into the kiss, then bites Eiffel's lip about it. He gets a hand in Eiffel's hair and tugs, close to the scalp, short and sharp.
"If you don't want me to beg, stop being so brainmeltingly hot," Jedao tells him, voice growly but unable to keep himself from grinning a little. He can, however, switch to being demanding. "And I'm gonna ask a third time if I don't get your dick in my mouth in the next five seconds, darlin," he threatens.
That growl, though, makes his spine turn to butter, his cock twitches and any smart reply turns into a whimpered, "Okay, yeah, go for it." as he pulls his hands back so Jedao can move.
Jedao sort of pulls himself down Eiffel's body, reorienting thoughtlessly in the null gravity, and gets his hands in a firm grip over Eiffel's hipbones.
"Don't stop touching me," he orders in that same low growl. "Pull my hair and stuff." Then he opens his mouth and swallows Eiffel down.
The sudden wet warmth, lips and tongue and Jedao's voice has an empassioned groan escape Eiffel, legs curling automatically to wrap around Jedao's rips as his hands anchor themselves in his hair, tight scraping handfuls of hair as he tries to remember to breathe.
"God-" His mouth doesn't stop even when his mind is completely blanking out from stimulation. "Fuck- J-Jedao--"
Jedao doesn't do anything coy or teasing; he doesn't even bother meeting Eiffel's eyes. He closes his eyes instead and just lets himself be selfish, lets Eiffel see him being selfish, see him blissed out on the sheer sensation of Eiffel's cock in his mouth, in his throat. He hasn't got any gag reflex and he doesn't technically need to breathe; it's a few long, pounding heartbeats before he pulls up a few inches and then slides back down, sucking steady and easy, savoring it.
Eiffel can't look at him, or not for more than a second or so, because it's better than he'd imagined, hot and warm and driving him insane, and every pull down on him gets a loud, desperate moan, hips bucking in Jedao's iron grip as he chases the sensation without thought.
Jedao lets him move and then digs his nails in harder afterward, moaning around him as Eiffel fucks his face, leaving little crescent-moon marks on on the skin of his hips. He slides up and down a few more times, slow whenever Eiffel doesn't preempt his rhythm, hungry and shameless until he pulls off with a shockingly blatant slurping sound.
"Can you go twice, do you think, or should I save this?" Jedao asks, grinning wickedly, before rubbing his cheek against the side of Eiffel's dick idly, a brush of teasing affection.
Cruel, cruel timing on Jedao's part, because Eiffel's rhythm had started picking up, rushing towards his climax and Jedao pulls off him maybe three or four rounds before he would have come and his groan is desolate, gripping on Jedao's hair tighter as if he could get that gorgeous mouth back on his dick if he just thrusts into it right.
He looks down with desperation in his eyes, and he can barely handle the stubble scrubbing against his over-sensitive length and he throws his head back with a choked laugh.
"Jedao, please- please, for the love of God get me off, you were so close-" it takes his brain a second to register the actual question '-I-I can, I can do twice, I swear, God--"
"Okay," Jedao says sweetly, like butter wouldn't melt. He turns his head and presses a soft, messy, open-mouthed kiss to the head of Eiffel's dick, tracing just under the head with his tongue for a few seconds of fakeout that he might switch to slow and teasing before he settles in and deepthroats Eiffel again.
A shuddering, choking gasp escapes him when Jedao teases him with his goddamn tongue, but then he's being taken fully again and Eiffel yelps, gripping Jedao's head and rolling his hips into him again, chasing that rush as it builds, harder and faster now, his grip painfully tight in Jedao's hair.
Jedao moans deep in his chest as Eiffel fucks his face, dropping one hand from Eiffel's hip to stroke himself roughly as he whines and whimpers and sucks. He's wanted Eiffel's cock in his mouth for so long, just like this, hot and heavy and perfect.
The moaning is vibrating straight through his cock and Eiffel keens sharply, his panting getting tighter, his thrusts sharper, and it's only a minute or so after Jedao starts stroking himself that Eiffel's grip shifts, yanking Jedao's head flush against him as an orgasm rattles up his spine, making him moan with absolute shameless volume.
Jedao's soft, blissful noises are completely lost beneath Eiffel's noises, except that he can still feel them. Jedao strokes himself hard and fast, and when Eiffel hauls on his hair, deliciously rough, holds him and uses him, he comes just like that in his only half-open uniform pants.
A ripple runs down Eiffel's spine as his orgasm finally runs its course, and his grip loosens on Jedao's hair enough for him to pull away if he wants- but Eiffel looks down first, and the deep blotchy redness covering him from the intensity of his coming somehow turns darker.
"I..." He swallows thickly against his dry throat, but it doesn't do anything to help how he can't look away from Jedao's mouth still on his cock. "...you okay?"
Jedao flutters his lashes a little bit before looking up, letting Eiffel watch his moth stretch awkwardly as he tries to smile without pulling off. He hums a soft, delighted affirmative before slowly, gently leaning back, letting Eiffel's cock slip from his now slightly swollen lips. He beams, looking lazily, smuggly contented, and rubs his cheek against Eiffel's thigh.
"I feel great," he purrs, voice rougher and deeper than usual.
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"None of them hurt or anything," Jedao promises him. "They're just...a lot."
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"You look badass," he mumbles against his teeth, before he nips quickly at Jedao's tongue so he can't protest.
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"It didn't all happen to me," he mutters when Eiffel is forced to pause for breath. "It's just cosmetic."
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"That's - fine -"
Any qualifiers he intends to add don't make it through the immense distraction of Eiffel feeling him up with gloves on.
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"I-I-- lube, 's'in my bedroom," he mumbles as he pulls back from kissing Jedao's jaw. "Do we wanna-?"
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There was a plan, wasn't there? He - thinking is hard - he thinks there was -
"Lemme suck you," he begs, yearning into the touch, leaving a smear of precome against Eiffel's forearm. "Let me get you wet, I don't need anything else -"
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But he gives a warm, flushed smile. "You can go down on me. Just- asking once is fine." With another deep, reassuring kiss.
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"If you don't want me to beg, stop being so brainmeltingly hot," Jedao tells him, voice growly but unable to keep himself from grinning a little. He can, however, switch to being demanding. "And I'm gonna ask a third time if I don't get your dick in my mouth in the next five seconds, darlin," he threatens.
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"Don't stop touching me," he orders in that same low growl. "Pull my hair and stuff." Then he opens his mouth and swallows Eiffel down.
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"God-" His mouth doesn't stop even when his mind is completely blanking out from stimulation. "Fuck- J-Jedao--"
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"Can you go twice, do you think, or should I save this?" Jedao asks, grinning wickedly, before rubbing his cheek against the side of Eiffel's dick idly, a brush of teasing affection.
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He looks down with desperation in his eyes, and he can barely handle the stubble scrubbing against his over-sensitive length and he throws his head back with a choked laugh.
"Jedao, please- please, for the love of God get me off, you were so close-" it takes his brain a second to register the actual question '-I-I can, I can do twice, I swear, God--"
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"I..." He swallows thickly against his dry throat, but it doesn't do anything to help how he can't look away from Jedao's mouth still on his cock. "...you okay?"
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"I feel great," he purrs, voice rougher and deeper than usual.
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