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“I mean, if I mess this up, I am dead, you know? All of us! So I-- Look, I-- I need your help. Okay, maybe you could-- Maybe you could, like, coach me or something, you know? Or you can give me some notes…”
*****
“You were in his house! And you didn't have the guts to do it. Two hours and 18 minutes? You never had any intention of killing him, did you?”
*****
“Everything that I have done for you--you put a bug on my car?”
“I'm sorry. After everything you've done for me? What you've done for me? You've killed me is what you've done!”
*****
Walt is two fingers deep inside of Jesse when the perfect punishment flashes through his mind.
He has Jesse bent over the dining room table, naked from the waist down, his arms pinned to his back while Walt works him over, not softly and not slowly and, well, not all that gently either. It's the way Jesse likes it, Walt has learned over the last month or so. And Walt is nothing if not eager to give Jesse wants when it comes to his more... aggressive urges.
The two of them would have solved this matter in a much different way not too long ago; they were not above a good fist fight between friends. But things have changed. Everything has changed.
Jesse's groaning as Walt's fingers find a rhythm inside of him. "Fuck... Mr. White... please..."
Walt knows what Jesse needs, and god, he really wants to give it to him. He's always so fucking tight, and warm, and just... the way Jesse moves for him, the way he bends and breaks and wants to be bent and broken... it's funny, really--he's never tried the meth that he and Jesse have been manufacturing, but he realizes this thing they share together now is probably just as addictive.
"Come here," Walt mutters, and he grabs Jesse's arm and leads him over to the armchair. Walt sits down and immediately Jesse is in his lap, facing him, grinding himself against Walt and kissing his neck. Skyler used to want him this much; they used to have this kind of passion for each other. But those days--with the odd exception every now and then--are far behind them now. Jesse's insatiable devotion to Walt is both surprising and somewhat overwhelming. He can't get enough of it. Not that he's going to let Jesse know that. As far as Jesse knows, Walt is merely tolerating this fling of theirs until he gets bored. It's easier that way. For both of them.
Jesse moves from his neck to his lips. He's noticed Jesse enjoys kissing him; he seems to take pleasure in forcing his tongue in Walt's mouth, meeting his own, connecting with Walt in such an intimate way. Walt’s still not all that comfortable with Jesse kissing him like he’s his high school prom date, but he doesn’t exactly discourage it either. He might even like the way Jesse shows the kind of assertive passion that Walt doesn't often see from him.
He gently bites Jesse’s lower lip in response. Jesse's soft moan makes something tangible stir in Walt's stomach. He tears Jesse’s shirt off so he can get a good look at those lean muscles and sharp curves. He sucks a mark into Jesse’s collarbone, because it’s just… such a good collarbone. Jesse exhales and holds on to Walt’s forearm for dear life.
When Walt eventually comes up for air, he says, "We can go to the lab first thing in the morning and I will guide you through all the steps, all right? I think you have a decent understanding of the whole process already, but knowing you, you'll screw one step up and ruin the whole batch."
Jesse gazes at him wide-eyed with gratitude. "Really? That's fucking awesome, Mr. White--" Then recognition starts to dawn on his weary features. "Wait. What do you want from me in return?"
"Does it matter? You're going to give it to me regardless." He says this matter-of-factly. This is how their relationship seems to work, after all--Walt requests (well, demands) something from Jesse, Jesse protests and groans, but then he does it to the best of ability. And then they fuck. It's an efficient system, in Walt's humble opinion.
"Well... yeah. But at least you can tell me what it is, yo."
Walt runs his fingers across the tattoo on Jesse's chest. Jesse claims it's a dragon, although Walt thinks it looks more like a turd that the tattoo artist took inspiration from his toilet the day Jesse came in. Still, Walt likes the tattoo, always has. It emphasizes Jesse’s small but inviting and lithe frame. Although he prefers the scorpion on Jesse's wrist and admires the way it looks when Jesse's hand is curled around Walt's dick.
"I want you to get another tattoo..." His fingers brush against Jesse's nipple, causing Jesse to let out a tiny exhale that turns Walt on more than he'd care to admit.
"Yeah? What kind of tattoo?" Jesse looks intrigued.
"My initials," Walt says, like this is the most normal thing in the world to ask of somebody.
"What? Like, you want to brand me or some shit? Yo... that's kinda fucked up, Mr. White."
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean, Jesse. I can't have you going to Mexico without knowing who you belong to, can I?" Walt realizes what he sounds like; he knows he's being a completely unreasonable--damn near bordering on psychotic--asshole, and he wouldn't be shocked if Jesse told him to go fuck himself. But so far, Jesse has proven in every way possible that he craves this kind of attention from Walt. He expects it. He wants to be given tasks to achieve. He wants to please Walt. Walt doesn't really know why, and he doesn't spend a lot of time thinking about it, either. Because if that's what Jesse needs, Walt wants to be the one to give that to him. And if Gus thinks he can try to take that away from him, he can fucking think again.
"Ohhhkay... and where do you want me to get this weird ass tattoo?" Jesse asks, but his breathing is getting a little heavier because Walt has maneuvered him so that he can continue fingering him while they have this conversation. Walt thoroughly enjoys the expressions Jesse makes when Walt is knuckle deep inside of him.
"I was thinking... on your back. Right here.” Walt traces his initials with his finger tips on Jesse’s shoulder blade. “It can be small if you'd like, just as long as I’m able to see it. It would certainly make me more amenable to some of your requests if I know it's there.”
Walt slips a third finger inside of him, and Jesse exhales sharply. He buries his face in Walt's shoulder, sucking a kiss into it that Walt knows will leave a mark. He likes Jesse when Jesse marks his territory. After a moment of surrendering to the frenzy, Jesse somehow collects himself and sits upright, gazing at Walt intently. Jesse's eyes are partially the reason for Walt's downfall. He can deny his feelings all he'd like, but if Jesse wants something, and he looks at him... like that, he can have whatever the hell he wants. To a degree, of course.
"Fine. I’ll do it. But I want something, too. And I think you'll dig it, actually."
"Mm-hmm. Somehow I doubt that. But what is it?"
Jesse leans down and swipes Walt's nipple with his tongue. Walt can't help but moan softly, and then groan loudly as Jesse grazes it with his teeth for half a second, and then goes back to lapping at it gently, almost too gently. The first time Jesse did this to him, Walt nearly came right then and there, and Jesse discovered Walt’s hidden secret--apparently his nipples are super sensitive, which he didn’t even know himself. New discoveries in his fifties--who would have thought?
"I want you to get at least one pierced," Jesse murmurs. "I think you would really like it. The chicks I know who have done it all have good things to say about it."
"Uh-huh. Yes, all the other fifty-year-old men I know are also raving about it," Walt says, but he is intrigued, he'd have to admit. "Is that... you would really like that?"
"Hell yeah, yo," Jesse exclaims. "It would be super hot."
"I'll think about it," Walt says. Ridiculous. Fucking a man half his age is turning his brain inside out. Maybe he likes it. Maybe he resents it. Who really knows at this point?
He reaches for the lube on the table by the chair and rummages through the drawer to find a condom. Jesse looks at him intently as he pushes himself down on Walt's cock, slowly but confidently. They both groan and their foreheads meet as they cling to each other. Walt holds on to Jesse's delectable hip bones as he starts to thrust, gently at first since Jesse always needs a moment to adjust. God. Every time they do this, Walt is still taken aback by just how fucking good Jesse feels. How Jesse’s high-pitched moans reverberate through his body. How Jesse clings to him like if he ever lets go, Walt will just merely disappear right before his very eyes.
Walt wraps his arms around Jesse and holds him closer as he buries himself inside of him. Okay, so maybe Walt craves the closeness. Maybe it’s more than just sex. Whatever. It’s not a big deal. It’s not like Walt is overcome by… something… as he gazes at Jesse, deep in the throes of passion, his eyes closed, and gently moves a few strands of his hair off his face.
“Look at me… Jesse, look at me,” Walt tries to sound authoritative and demanding instead of sentimental and horny. Jesse slowly opens his startling blue eyes and Walt finds himself on the precipice of coming just by the intensity of Jesse’s contemplative gaze.
“Mr. White…” Jesse moans in that voice Walt has gotten to know so well over the past few weeks; the voice that indicates how he wants Walt to take care of him. Walt wraps his hand around Jesse’s warm, throbbing cock, and strokes him in the way he's discovered Jesse needs it. As Walt feels him seizing up, breathing extra hard, his muscles tightening around Walt’s own cock… they come within moments of each other.
Jesse sighs peacefully once Walt disposes of the condom and comes back to him, taking him in his arms.
Walt is pretty sure he’d do anything Jesse asked of him during these small, quiet times after sex. Especially when Jesse is naked and curled up in his lap, stroking Walt’s nipples, lightly pinching them. “Swear you’ll think about it?”
“Well… why don’t we do it tonight? You said Gus wants you in Mexico on Friday, right? So that doesn’t leave us much time….”
Jesse chuckles. “You really do want me to get that tattoo before we leave, don’t you? That’s so messed up, yo.”
Walt sort of agrees, but the heart wants what it wants. “Do you know someone who can do both the tattoo and the piercing tonight?”
“Uh… maybe. A friend of Jane’s. She might be available.” Walt doesn’t miss the obvious sadness in Jesse’s voice. It’s possible this all started because he wanted to help Jesse feel something other than pain over Jane’s death. It’s also possible this all started because the guilt Walt felt about his part in Jane’s death was eating him alive. It’s all possible.
“Do you have her number?”
“Yeah, but my phone is in the pocket of my jeans and that means I’ll have to get up and I don’t want to,” Jesse groans. He leans down and again attaches his lips to Walt’s nipple, giving it a gentle tug before Walt swats him away.
“Come on. Plenty of time for that later. Let’s do this now. Before I change my mind.”
*****
Jesse texts Harmony and sort of almost hopes that she doesn’t answer. Jane hasn’t even been gone that long and now he’s getting some dude's initials tattooed on his body. Seems kinda weird and wrong but… Mr. White being there for him is the only way he’s gotten through Jane’s death. Even when he’s being a dick and acting all territorial and possessive of Jesse, Jesse knows he still gives more of a shit about him than he lets on. And right now, that’s what Jesse needs. It’s what he wants. He’s pretty sure he wants that, at least.
Harmony answers a few minutes later that, yes, she’s at the shop and can do the tattoo, and has someone else who can do the piercing for Mr. White. Jesse takes a deep breath before he lets Mr. White know that she’s available. Is he really doing this? Permanently marking up his body just so Mr. White can feel better about him going to Mexico or whatever?
Yeah. He is really doing this.
20 minutes later, they’re at the shop, and Jesse’s taking his shirt off for Harmony to inspect his back. Mr. White looks on approvingly.
“So that’s all you want? The initials WW and that’s it? That’ll be easy,” Harmony murmurs. “You could have gotten anyone to do that for you. Some homeless guy off the street.”
“Well, Jane, like, really liked you, yo. She talked about you a lot.” Jesse only met Harmony once. It was a rare day when they ventured out of the house--out of bed, really--and went to a nearby bar. Jane didn't have a lot of girl friends but she and Harmony were like BFFs or whatever. Harmony is like a blonde version of Jane--if she colored her hair, she’d almost look like Jane’s twin. It’s sort of unsettling.
“Yeah, she really liked you, too. Talked about you all the time here at the shop,” Harmony says as she gets the stencil ready. He can see Mr. White out of the corner of his eye, and he knows this conversation is not exactly what he had in mind for this experience.
“I miss her,” Jesse says softly, and Harmony nods sadly. She also has the decency not to ask what the hell “W.W.” is and why the guy he’s with is getting his nipples pierced. Jesse is eternally grateful for this. It's not like he's embarrassed or ashamed, really--it's more like he's confused by what the hell this is and how to explain it to anyone who asks. It's complicated. Obviously.
The tattoo itself doesn’t hurt that much; it’s not that big and it takes Harmony less than five minutes to apply. The one on his hand was about 12 times worse. He sort of can’t believe how quickly it all happened and how he now has Mr. White’s fucking initials on his back. It’s kind of alarming how easily and how far Jesse will fall for some focused attention and a good fuck.
It’s a really, really good fuck, though.
Jesse turns his attention to the very large man who is making a mark on Mr. White’s right nipple with a blue Sharpie. Mr. White looks more uncomfortable than Jesse’s ever seen him; he has to choke back a chuckle. Poor guy.
“How you doin’? Hanging in there?” Jesse asks him.
“Fine…” Mr. White says through his pursed lips. The big guy has the needle now, and Jesse can’t take his eyes away as he prepares to do the piercing.
Fuck. Jesse is not prepared for how hot it is to even watch as Mr. White goes through this whole process. The fact that he’s doing it just for him certainly adds to the extreme hotness factor. He feels ridiculous, sitting topless and half-hard on a cold table after having just gotten another tattoo, watching his former fucking chemistry teacher get his nipple pierced. If Badger and Skinny Pete could see him now… well, they’d have a lot of questions.
Mr. White groans loudly as the big guy makes the incision. There’s some blood, and Jesse knows Mr. White is probably questioning all of his life choices. But he did it. He did for Jesse.
“That looks hot,” Harmony says, nodding at Mr. White. Jesse silently agrees. Mr. White gives her a tight-lipped smile and thanks the piercer for his service.
In the car, Jesse can’t help but chuckle. “I can’t believe we just did that. We’re kinda dumb, aren’t we?”
“Yes, well, I suppose we are somewhat lacking in judgment right now,” Mr. White agrees.
“Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t… feel great,” Mr. White says. That’s probably the most he’s going to get out of the guy, and he supposes that’s almost a lot, coming from him.
Later, before they go to bed, Jesse uses some sterile saline spray on Mr. White’s nipple. Mr. White winces, but Jesse doesn’t miss how he looks at it in the mirror, and doesn’t seem to hate the small ring of turquoise shining through. Jesse wants to gnash it with his teeth or at least play with it a little, but he knows it’ll be a little too sensitive for a while. Something to look forward to in the future.
Mr. White returns the favor by applying ointment to Jesse’s tattoo. The tenderness of his fingers makes Jesse close his eyes for a second, take a deep breath.
They’re both too tired and too sore to mess around before going to bed. But Jesse is too keyed up to sleep.
“So… what are we going to do about Gus? I just be a good little boy and go to Mexico and show the cartel how to cook the blue? And then what?”
Mr. White shakes his head. “I don’t know. I realize it was asking too much for you to do it yourself. We’ll have to come up with a different plan when you get back.”
“If I get back,” Jesse mutters.
“You’re too valuable to Gus now. I’m the one he wants to get rid of, as he’s made perfectly clear.” Mr. White looks… well, if Jesse didn’t know any better, he’d say Mr. White looks scared. Lost. Confused. And that makes Jesse feel massively unhinged in a way he doesn’t know quite how to handle.
Jesse sighs. They’re not going to figure it out tonight. Maybe it’ll all go away on his own. Jesse is still somehow naïve enough to think that could possibly happen.
“It’ll be okay, Jesse. I don’t know. But I will not allow Gus to outsmart us.”
Jesse believes him. What other choice does he have?
Mr. White pulls him closer and kisses his shoulder. It’s in these small moments, when Mr. White runs his fingertips down Jesse’s chest, giving him all his attention and not demanding or asking anything of him, that makes Jesse think this is more than just sex. It’s more than grief manifesting itself into something else. It’s… more.
“Turn over for me,” Mr. White whispers, and Jesse does as he’s asked. Mr. White takes his shirt off and strokes the area next to Jesse’s new tattoo. Jesse can feel goosebumps form on his arm. If he wasn't so tired, he knows he'd get so fuckin' hard right now.
“It looks good,” he says, and Jesse wants to laugh--of course he thinks it looks good, it’s his damn initials on Jesse’s skin. But he sounds sincere; he sounds like he’s touched that Jesse went to such lengths for him. “It looks really good.”
Jesse falls asleep on his stomach, with Mr. White’s arm flung across his waist. He’s still epically nervous about going to Mexico and what happens after that, but at least he knows Mr. White has his back.
And he has Mr. White’s nipple.