hippie_ninja | IC INBOX

[He touches John's free hand with his, guides it up into his hair as well. He looks up at John, breathes in through his nose and takes him in deep, slow]

[ Well that certainly answers that.

Taking the hint, he cards all his fingers through the other submissive's hair and twists them between strands, moan on his lips as he tips his head back. It's just for a second because he's looking back down to Jesus then, head lolling to the side, watching the way he enjoys himself with his cock in his mouth. ]

Fuck— you like it too, huh?

[ And as if to show his appreciation, he tugs on that hair between his fingers a little. ]

Yes, but he communicates it with a low hum, his head bobbing a little faster now, steady, his gaze never leaving John's.

[ Well that's good to know.

Of course, what's also good is the fact that Jesus here is good at this and John, having already been turned on from having his own go at this, is not in any stretch of the imagination capable of holding out too long here.

Swallowing, he gasps, fingers tugging a little harder at that hair. ]

Shit. You're gonna make me come. [ A pant. ] Gonna make you swallow it.

[Good. He likes this, he wants John pulling at him, he wants John to come hot on his tongue and in his throat. He rakes his nails down John's side, moving his head with more urgency.]

[ There really isn't much else Jesus needs to do with that mouth of his, but the eager way he sucks on him is enough to send John over the edge and without much warning aside from the way he grips tight at the back of the other's head, he gives him what he wants — what they both want. ]

Sh—it!

[ Word broken on his tongue, Jesus' own tongue is greeted with hot spurts of cum that John feeds him, head held in place, his own tipped back, letting himself come unabashedly there on the bed with the other man between his legs. ]

[He relaxes, letting John finish spurting into his mouth before he swallows, and even when he has he still licks John slowly, languidly, while he comes down]

[ It takes him a minute or two to come down from all of that, but when he does, it's with a pleased little hum and fingers carding affectionately through the other man's hair. ]

Jesus... [ And he knows how that sounds, but. Whatever for the moment. ] ...forgot what that felt like.

[ To be sucked off, he means. ]

I'm happy to help with that. [To make sure he gets sucked off more regularly.

He kisses the head of his cock and climbs up onto the bed besides him]

You deserve to feel as good as you made me feel. Well. As close as I can get you to it, anyway.

[ Letting himself fall back against the bed now that he's not being worked with the other man's mouth, he huffs a laugh as he cards his fingers through his own hair then. ]

Well aren't you a giving person.

[ Grin there on his lips, lazy as it is, he lets his hand drop away from his head and back to the bed. ]

I try. [He's joking.]

I'm serious though. I'd fuck your mouth again. I'd do this again, too. Maybe next time we trade books.

So what you're saying, basically, is that you'd get all down and dirty with me again.

[ Waggling his eyebrows at him, he laughs a little then. ]

I mean, not like I'm gonna say no to a good mouth and a good fuck.

[He laughs] Well good. And now you know where to find me.

[He doesn't plan on telling his friends about this room. He needs a space that's just his, where he can stash things. But John knows about it, so John is automatically welcome there. In part because he knows John won't abuse that.]

Guess I do.

[ Reaching out with a hand, he walks his fingers along the other man's arm, just because he can. He's not about to tell anyone (why would he?) about Jesus' little spot here. He knows what it's like to want a place for himself. To just get away from every one and every thing. Even just for a little bit. ]

Think this right here more than makes up for me getting it for you, by the way.

[He rests his hand on John's hip] Good. So you'll know every time I do this from now on it's just for the fun.

People actually do that here? Have fun?

[ Brow raised, total sarcasm, he laughs a bit then, turning his hand over, palm up, and letting a sliver of fire slip down from the magic little ring he wears that allows him to "borrow" fire. He lets it grow into a ball, no bigger than a golf ball and holds it between his fingers, leaning it towards Jesus. ]

Wanna hold it?

[ If Jesus does, he'll find it's warm. Not hot. Because John is the one who controls it. John's the one making it warm. ]

[he takes it fully expecting it will burn if he holds on too long, and that it will fizzle out before it can cause damage. Instead it's the temperature of a mug of coffee and he cups his hands around it, his eyes lit up with the delight of something magical]

How do you do this?

I don't know. I just can.

[ It's like asking how a telepath can read minds, or how someone can fly, how Scott can shoot beams from his eyes. It's just... a part of them. Like a sixth sense.

He watches the way Jesus holds it and it always makes him feel... something, when someone isn't freaked out by what he can do — by what he is. ]

I can feel it. I can sense it nearby. I can change its temperature and make it be whatever my imagination lets me. I just can't create it. I need an external source of it.

[ His magical little ring since his flamethrower had been damaged a long time ago here. ]

[Jesus has seen exactly how terrible the human race can get. He knows how badly people must have reacted to other people being able to do things like this.

But he's not one of them. He, for his part, is awed.]

It's incredible.

[he rolls the ball of flame over his palms, over the backs of his knuckles, like a coin trick]

[ Despite the nearly two years that he's been here and how much more accepting others have been of him (and his kind) here, it still gives him pause — still has him feel a certain way whenever someone says something like that about what he can do. ]

If only everyone thought that.

[ Words said softly, he looks to the ball Jesus plays with and, suddenly it changes — takes the shape of a small bird that perches itself there on the other man's knuckles. While there's no chirping to be heard, it does flap its wings, ducks its head down, even hops a little there on the man's knuckles. Still warm and capable of being touched like a real bird. ]

[He is as gentle with this bird as he would be with a real sparrow, touching its chest with one finger, stroking its head and back]

I could do this for a while.

[Just warning him, Jesus might never get tired of playing with fire he can touch.]

[ He sure would have been handy against hordes of zombies with his fire manipulation. Shame it doesn't do much against giant machines programmed to hunt and kill his kind. ]

It has its perks. [ A pause, he rolls to lay on his back, looking up to the ceiling, the little fire bird still hopping about and nuzzling at Jesus' fingers. ] Not always enough though.

[He looks over at John, brow furrowed, then back at the bird]

What do you mean?

[ He still doesn't think he can talk about what happened — that he was killed here last month by one of the very things made to do just that to his kind. It's just easier to deny it. Pretend it never happened. Not healthy, but. You know. ]

Nothing.

[ Looking to the bird, it changes then into a fiery cat that nuzzles at Jesus' beard, standing there on his lap and arms for attention. ]

Never have to worry about burning myself at least.

[He strokes the cat's hair, marveling at the way the flames flicker around his fingertips]

You had to fight a lot at home?

[It's a guess. A hunch, really, but he's pretty sure the answer is 'yes'.]

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