Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.
eliade

J/V #13



XIII.

"You're angry," Vaughn said in a low voice, under the rush of the shower and the electronic interference.

"You forced me into a position where I had to have sex with you, on video, or risk suspicion from whoever might be watching. So I'd have to say yes, I'm angry, Michael."

But he didn't sound half as angry as he'd looked earlier, and Vaughn didn't feel as tense or worried as he'd been three, four, something or other orgasms ago. "Sorry. That was stupid."

"Yes, it was. Very." Jack was staring very directly into his eyes to drive the point home and then somehow his gaze drifted to Vaughn's mouth. Vaughn grinned. Jack looked huffy. "Is this going to be a distraction for you?" he asked, clearly trying to put Vaughn in a defensive position.

Having been reassured that Jack wasn't going to tear a strip off him, Vaughn couldn't stop grinning. "Nah, I'm good. How about you? You only came twice. Maybe I should service you again."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "You think that's funny."

"Considering the way you've been dicking me around for the past few days, I think it's hilarious."

Jack almost looked contrite at that, even self-critical. God, orgasms really did make him human. "Yes. Well. Perhaps I did go overboard. At times."

The shower continued to spray down, enclosing them in steam. "Well, it's a critical mission," Vaughn allowed. He'd be magnanimous if it would keep Jack off-balance.

"Yes." Jack was starting to get shifty-eyed with discomfort and Vaughn took pity on him and stepped away to soap himself. Except that Jack watched him. It was beyond Vaughn's stamina to get turned on, but he didn't mind showing off. "You're full of surprises," Jack observed.

Wow. That admission was almost better than an orgasm. "Am I?"

"Most agents would have washed out by now--compromised the op. It can be difficult to fake humiliation. It wears down the ego as if it were the real thing."

"Yeah, I noticed that." He frowned, a thought striking him. "Are we going to wipe the video?"

"Too risky. I'll have to send someone later."

They didn't say much else. A servant knocked as they were dressing and offered to pack Jack's suitcases and have them sent ahead to the yacht. He gave the woman a generous handful of bills, and then they went downstairs. Sitting at Jack's feet was getting to be old hat. Jack fed him cantaloupe and bacon.

"I think you may be spoiling him, not breaking him," Mislov said with a faint scowl. Sydney and Weiss glanced at each other. The junkie girl wasn't to be seen, and the jet set was represented by only a few scruffy hangers-on who'd managed to get up early in search of food. They were hangovers in slow motion.

"He's become very agreeable." Jack smiled as he lifted his coffee cup. "Even if I lose the bet, I think I'll keep him. As compensation goes, it could be worse."

"You're going to keep him," Sydney said, then appeared to realize how her startled tone might come across. "Dad, I wish you wouldn't collect so many strays. They get into my things. That last one trashed the summer house."

"I wouldn't exactly call him a stray, sweetheart."

"Don't you think the CIA's going to be pissed off when you kidnap one of their agents and make him a sex slave?" Weiss asked, with a meaningful stare at Jack. "We can't afford that kind of scrutiny."

"I'll take care of clean-up. Don't worry, Peter." Jack's smile was modulating into a pleasant threat.

It looked as if his active participation in the mission might run longer than expected. Vaughn couldn't decide how he felt about that. It was a pretty silly and unimportant role once the bet was resolved. On the other hand, he'd be right there if things went off-course. A ringside seat.

He could see Sydney weighing other arguments. For one, she could complain that as an agent he was a danger to their physical safety, but that might backfire. After a minute's deliberation in which she held Vaughn's eyes, searching for distress signals, she caved tacitly by finishing her breakfast.

The yacht was swank and ridiculously big, and it didn't feel too strange to be walking around the deck barefoot.

"Take off your clothes, get some sun," Jack ordered in a relaxed tone.

Vaughn raised his brows in disbelief, then testily said things to Jack with his eyes, but had to comply. It only took about five minutes under the sun, oiled and sleepy, for embarrassment to fade. His body felt like melted butter against the deck chair. The others' voices rose and fell in the background. After a while, nearly dozing, he forced himself to turn over. Weiss stammered in the middle of a sentence about the Tour de France and lost his thread, but Sydney gathered it up for him with aplomb. Vaughn pretended not to notice, but made a mental note to rag Weiss about it later. At length.

Midday everyone retreated to their cabins. He and Jack were fucking almost before they stumbled in the door. Inside, Vaughn went down on his knees and took Jack's dick out--he was already hard--and sucked him off. It was amazing. Jack made sounds, mind-blowing sounds of need, mostly tiny sounds, but somehow that made it even hotter, each one torn from his tight throat as if by torture. Vaughn came in his pants halfway through and moaned as he finished Jack off, Jack's hands brutally tight in his hair.

They ended up on the bed, Jack forcing him onto his back and greedily working him over, avoiding his cock, making him crazy.

"Please," Vaughn said when one of Jack's hands slid under his balls. "Oh my god, please." And Jack found something slick and opened him up with two fingers and his hips came up off the bed. "Please," he said again, repeating himself over and over until Jack lifted him up and pushed into him. Vaughn stuffed a fist into his mouth and muffled a half-sob as the pain burned itself out and rekindled into something entirely different. At some point he pried his eyes open, and saw Jack's face, self-absorbed in pleasure, and he jerked himself off to that, unable to keep it going longer than a few minutes. The speed of Jack's hips picked up at once, arrhythmic, and he was gasping as he came, chin lifted, eyes shut. Vaughn felt like he was coming again, inside and out.

They untangled afterwards. Vaughn figured Jack would say something as Boros to mark the event, but he didn't, and they napped nakedly, close to each other on their backs, not touching.
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