( Completed ) Pet play | Axton X handsome Jack

Chapter 19: The Other Side of the Board

The Other Side of the Board

Axton's eyes rolled beneath his lids. He sighed out slowly, his breath coming out soft and muffled. His body felt heavy. So fucking heavy. Like he hadn't slept in weeks, or years, he wasn't sure which. His limbs were stone weights at his sides, unable to move, unable to be of any sort of use to him. His tired body felt surrounded in comfort, like everything around him was soft and plush.

He cracked one eye open. He was tangled in the plush comforters of Jack's bed. The sheets, pillowcases, comforters, were all silky Hyperion yellow. Like being bathed in pure gold. Axton spread his fingers out over the soft material. It crinkled at his touch, so smooth and luscious to the touch. He sighed out a little louder, stretching his abused body, trying to rouse his worthless self.

It was then that he felt the soft caress of hands that did not belong to him. They ghosted over his hipbones beneath the sheets and drew small circles over his sides. Axton closed his eyes at the touch. It was light and playful and wanting. The hands pull away at the comforters wrapped around Axton's body. He is suddenly very aware of he is absent of his clothing. The silk material teases over his flesh as it is drawn away. Axton makes a sound that is not quite a moan, but all the same it is a needing noise. The very beginnings of something more.

His eyes flick down to observe the working hands.

They are big, fingers blunt, nails all cut the exact same perfect length. There is no caked dirt beneath their nails, so much unlike Axton's own dirty, chewed, misshapen fingernails. There is old ink wrapped around the right wrist. It's blue green with age, wear and too much sun. A long time ago it must have been gorgeously black. Ebony and fresh. Time has not been kind to the small art embedded in the skin. Time is not kind to anything really. Time is a cruel bitch.

Axton rolls slowly onto his back, his elbows folding up over his head lazily. He watched with intelligent, curious eyes as the man he knows all too well sprawls on top of him, taking his time to kiss at Axton's abs. He runs his tongue along a particularly merciless scar running like lightening across Axton's torso. In that moment Axton's brain is too fuzzy to even remember what had dealt him the punishing blow. Was it an alpha skag? Maybe a loader. Who knew. All he could focus on was the warm, wet feeling of Jack's tongue dragging across the scar tissue ridden flesh.

Axton's mouth comes open ever so slightly, his eyes drawing shut slowly. The bedding around him is so fucking soft, and Jack's touch is even softer. His hands spark fires over Axton's wanting body, burning him white hot, and he doesn't care.

Jack's naked body presses against Axton's and it's hot and demanding all in the same breath. Jack leans up on his elbows, framing Axton, placing teasing little bites to Axton's throat. Axton swallows hard, his Adams apple bobbing with the motion.

Suddenly Jack's hands are not so teasing. One of his gentle, mean, palms slides around Axton's already hard cock. Axton gritted his teeth together and arched slightly, bucking up into Jack's palm. Fuck he wanted it so badly. The undivided attention of a madman.

Jack's lips find Axton's and his gathers them in a hungry, vicious kiss. Axton kisses back just as hard. Like a battle for power, a battle over one another. It's sloppy and wet and fuck is it hot. Axton's tongue glides along Jack's stupidly perfect teeth and a pure, sweet, moan slides up from Jack's throat. The sound sends chills down Axton's spine and causes his cock to throb with interest. Jack's palm is big and smooth and talented. He is not greedy with his pleasure as he hands it out to Axton willingly.

Jack is whispering sweet, mean, vicious little nothings in Axton's ear. Like all the ways he'd wanted to kill Axton. Every sick little detail causes Axton to melt in his palm like butter. The content of killing combined with that honeyed, malicious tone of Jack's just has the commando falling apart at the stitching.