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Jamie, when out of work, was at best restless, and at worst, a complete fucking lunatic. He’d been spoiling for a fight, any kind of fight, for the better part of a week. It just so happened that Malcolm was the man he chose to pick one with.
It didn’t help that they lived together now. In the past Jamie just came over whenever he or Malcolm were in the mood for a good hard fuck, but since quitting working for Dan Miller Jamie had decided to move in with Malcolm. Malcolm had baulked at first, not wanting the pint-sized chimney to stink up his pristine home with the smells of his incessant smoking and cheap aftershave.
However, loathe as he was to admit it, he loved the little fucker and so acquiesced to letting him move in when the younger man had asked him one night after a particularly spectacular evening of orgasmic adventures. Jamie always knew when to choose his moments. Malcolm would have said yes to anything lying there on the bed with that stupid fucking “just came all over himself” grin on his face.
And so Jamie moved in, bringing precious little furniture and not much more clothing with him. Also a mountain of annoying habits. He snored, chewed with his (FUCKING) mouth open, left his used teabags on the kitchen counter, and God only knows what havoc he was wreaking on Malcolm’s plumbing (the little fucker shat more than Malcolm thought a human could and still survive). Of course there were pleasant sides to him being around - despite the teabags Jamie was fairly tidy and kept the place clean, he was a decent enough cook, and was somehow making money writing anonymous articles and sending them off to various publishers so he was able to buy groceries and things like that (plus he was savvy enough to have socked away quite a tidy savings account).
That had been two years ago. Over time their relationship had matured from mutual sexual desire to something far deeper and heartfelt (Malcolm, unexpectedly, had fallen first). Despite this, or perhaps because of it they still had epic rows, usually starting when Jamie picked at Malcolm’s temper and irked him deliberately. Jamie was nothing if not a shit-stirrer and nothing made him happier than winding Malcolm up. Especially since their rows usually ended with them fucking each other silly and smoking together as they lay on the bed and tried to come back to earth.
--*--*--*--*--*--*
Malcolm cleared his throat, letting Jamie know he was there, stood in the doorway of the bathroom, eyes glaring at him from behind his reading glasses. Jamie wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, long enough to figure out what was happening - Jamie had done the unspeakable. The unforgivable. Something for which Malcolm would gladly tear him limb from limb and dance in his offal.
He’d used Malcolm's toothbrush. To brush his teeth. HIS. FUCKING. TEETH. His fucking tobacco stained, gingivitis riddled, Motherwell cock-sucking TEETH.
And Malcolm would fucking HAVE HIM for it….
Malcolm moved faster than a cobra and knocked the toothbrush out of Jamie's hand into the sink and grasped Jamie's head in a vice grip, shoving him against the wall.
Jamie shook his head and rubbed the back of his scalp from where it had connected with the hard wall. “Fuck me, so the scrawny auld ball sack does have some fight left in him? Shame a fucking five year old could still knock ye out cold - you weak cunt”
He wasn’t surprised when his head banged against the wall again. Winding Malcolm up was one of his favourite pastimes though, the fine art of getting him aroused enough to fuck, but not angry enough to kill. Jamie would admit (privately) that the thrill of knowing he could oh so easily get it wrong and end up with a fist in the face and a knee in the bollocks made things just that much more exciting for him. He had got it wrong in the past too, just as recently as last week after an argument about him drinking Malcolm's prized whisky.
The tooth marks on his shoulder from that one were a lot fucking deeper than anything he got during sex. Mind you, they were tingling rather nicely as Malcolm ground his fingers into Jamie’s shoulders and held him against the wall.
“MacDonald. Should have fucking killed ye the moment I clapped eyes on you. I don’t know why I keep your rabid worthless arse anywhere near me”
Jamie grinned maniacally. “Because nobody else would suck you off under your desk and then get up to do a press briefing with the taste of ye still in his mouth -“
He grunted as Malcolm shoved a thigh firmly between his and dragged his head backward by the hair. “I could find half a dozen people who would do that without having tae leave the office you Motherwell shite. Ollie Reeder would get down there every hour if I promised him even the sniff of a fucking job and him I wouldn’t have to cage fight with first.”
"Who's the fucking poof who can't get hard without yelling eh?" Jamie reached down to the steadily growing tent in Malcolm's trousers and squeezed. "Wonder if those DoSaC cunts know how much of a hard-on you are sporting after sorting them out each day, and how come ye are always yelling fer me later-"
His words were interrupted by Malcolm slapping his hand away from him and wrenching him away from the wall by the hair and starting to pull him out of the bathroom and toward the bedroom.
Yes! Got it right again. You fucking genius Jamie he thought as he was kicked firmly into the room and practically thrown onto the mattress with all the force the wiry body of Malcolm could manage. He resisted the urge to grin up at his irate lover. While Jamie was pretty sure sex was on the cards for this evening now, it would not take much for Malcolm to decide to take it off the menu and replace it with an side order of Jamie-Getting-The-Crap-Knocked-Out-Of-Him.
He blessed whatever saints he hadn't totally fucked over that he'd not got the rest of his clothes on yet that morning and as such didn't have to worry about getting anything other than pyjama trousers off. He'd have stolen Malcolm's just to wind him up if the auld fuck wasn't so ridiculously fucking skinny that only a famine victim had any chance of fitting into his stuff.
His musings were interrupted by Malcolm kneeling either side of his waist and Jamie moaned as long, tapered fingers dug into his wrists with uncanny strength and held him to the bed.
“God, you really will get off on anything won't ye?” Malcolm shook his head as he continued to lean his full weight onto his hands, “you'd get a fucking semi-on in the middle of a pub fight”. Jamie didn't have much chance to reply though before Malcolm shifted lightning-fast to leaning his knees on Jamie's arms – freeing up his hands to pull a couple of straps up from the side of the bed.
Oh god. He'd really pissed Malcolm off if he was going for those instead of ties.
Malcolm looked at at the half naked man writhing under him and grinned inwardly while maintaining the stern boy-are-you-in-fucking-trouble look on the outside. He loved keeping Jamie guessing as to what he was going to do next. Fight or fuck?
He shifted down until the soft hair on Jamie's stomach was tickling his nose and then gradually drew upward until his mouth was hovering over a flush, taut, nipple.
Without warning, Malcolm bit down and held his teeth around it while Jamie howled to the ceiling. "Jesus fuck! I'm not a fucking curly whirly bar ye stupid old cunt, stop chewing me! Just get to the fucking yeah?"
Malcolm released him and soothed the redness with a brief lick of his tongue before selling back on his heels on top of his lover. "Ye've got a lot to learn MacDonald" he practically purred, "first being that revolting inbred pieces of Motherwell shite who steal my fucking toothbrushes do not get a shag as reward"
"An' the second?" Jamie enquired.
"Call me 'sir' when you're bein' punished, you've been told often enough"
Jamie’s pupils dilated to frightening proportions at Malcolm’s command and his jaw slackened, giving him the look of an addict who’d just received the hit to end all hits. Despite the fact that at work Jamie was an utter bulldog, at home he was a splendid sub and nothing made him happier than Malcolm telling him exactly what to do, exactly how to do it, and how often.
“Yes fucking sir,” Jamie said, voice sounding almost as strained as the erection bulging inside his trousers.
“Good boy,” Malcolm growled above him, still pinning his hands to the bed. “Now wee Jamie, here’s what’s gonnae fucking happen.” Malcolm always did sound more Scottish in bed, the clever fucker. “You’re gonnae keep your arms right where they are, and I’m gonnae let them go. You’re not gonnae fucking move them until I say so, is that fucking understood?.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Yes sir, yes sir, YES SIR!”
“That’s fucking more like it. If you DO move them I’ll get up and leave you right here on this bed to sort yourself out and I WILL NOT give you the splendid punishment you so richly fucking deserve right now. Do we understand one other?”
“Yes sir,” Jamie answered, eyes heavy lidded and face beginning to flush. His erection strained painfully against his trousers and he couldn’t help but hitch his hips up against Malcolm. The older man moved his hands down Jamie’s front, slowly, pausing to attend to a taut nipple before working lower, lower, lower.
Jamie practically bit through his own lip as Malcolm's clever, long fingers hooked over the waistband of his trousers and tugged briefly before letting go. God he couldn't wait to get to the point where their naked bodies were pressed up against each other and their cocks sliding together and -
“MacDonald, I know what ye are thinking. Stop it” Malcolm's eyebrow arched as he sat back on his heels and took his hands away from Jamie's body. “Bad boys who spend their time nicking my shit do not get rewarded for it. They get punished, remember?”
“Yes sir”
“Which gives me a fuckin' great idea”. Malcolm began to slowly take off his own clothes – the slippery grey silk of his pyjama top soon folded neatly behind him on the bed but he left his trousers on for now. Jamie fought against every desire in his body to not reach up and stroke the lustrous fabric covering Malcolm's legs and slide up to wrap his hands round the erection he could see swelling underneath. If he did that though, he really would be left in the room on his own. Malcolm, like him, did not make idle threats.
Malcolm bit his lip to keep from moaning as Jamie squirmed beneath him. The younger man had thrust his hips up slightly, their erections touching for the briefest moment. Malcolm pushed Jamie's arms further into the mattress until he groaned in pain. "Oi. You don't do that again right? Or I'll fuck off and never touch your sorry dick again."
"Yes sir," Jamie croaked, voice growing thicker with need with each passing moment. Malcolm wasn't sure how much longer he'd last either. His erection was pressing tight against the silk trousers, the feeling of the expensive slippery cloth against his manhood driving him wild with need.
Malcolm leaned down and slowly licked the nipple he'd previously bitten, a harsh red ring now forming around the taut pink flesh. He sat back up, drew his hands completely down Jamie's arms and then torso, digging his nails in just enough to draw a gasp of delight from Jamie's mouth and send shivers through both their bodies.
Malcolm kept his face passive as he drew his nails down Jamie's chest again, watching the reddened marks rise slightly in patterns that looked like aircraft contrails above Heathrow. By this point he was fighting against his own urges to just flip Jamie over and fuck him until his teeth rattled.
Seeing as how that was what the wee scrote was begging for though meant damn sure Malcolm wasn't going to do it.
Shifting down on the bed Malcolm drew his hands further down Jamie's body and started to untie the drawstring on his flannel pyjama bottoms. He did this slowly, eyes locked with Jamie the whole time. After he loosened the knot he leaned down and did the rest of the work with his teeth. It took every ounce of effort for Jamie not to thrust up against Malcolm as his warm breath washed over his ever-hardening cock and body started to tremble under Malcolm with the effort. The sly auld fuck flicked his slate blue eyes up to Jamie, an unspoken warning.
Malcolm leaned back up and slipped his fingers under the edge of the trousers, pulling them down, freeing Jamie's insistent erection. His cock sprung up against his stomach, shining with pre-come and almost humming with need. Malcolm growled low in his throat, a predatory sound that caused Jamie's eyes to roll up into the back of his head and a low, desperate moan to escape from his throat. Malcolm reached out and slicked the end of his finger with Jamie's pre-come, then drew his finger slowly down the most prominent vein in Jamie's dick then back up again. Then squeezed...
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," Jamie breathed, breath ragged and voice trembling.
Releasing his fingers from the twitching length of Jamie’s cock, Malcolm reminded Jamie of the need to say ‘sir’ when he talked. His eyes showed a flicker of amusement as Jamie nearly shouted “okay – oh fuck SIR” and he rewarded the man with a rolling movement of his thumb just below the head of Jamie’s cock, enjoying the near sob of frustration the younger Scot let out. Malcolm’s fingers were fast becoming slick, coated with the endless flow of pre-come coming out of Jamie as he tried not to writhe under Malcolm’s skilled touch.
He let go of Jamie again and raised his hand up to Jamie’s mouth. “Clean my fingers off, you’ve got them fucking dirty”.
Jamie did what he knew Malcolm wanted, licked his own bodily fluids off Malcolm's hands, teasing his fingers with his tongue. Malcolm's breathing quickened and Jamie drew the fingers slowly out of his mouth with a positively pornographic sound.
"Good lad," Malcolm said, wiping Jamie's saliva off his hand and onto the skin of Jamie's bare chest. Malcolm then leaned down and kissed Jamie on the mouth fiercely, tasting the pre-come still on his lips, giving him his reward for obeying him thus far.
When they parted Jamie's eyes were full of pleading. Malcolm decided to have mercy on him, but not just yet.
Kneeling up, Malcolm pulled his own trousers down slowly, enjoying the feel of smooth silk against his insistent erection. If he wasn't hard before he sure as hell was now after the way Jamie's eyes widened and pupils dilated as soon as he saw the effect he'd had on Malcolm.
“Like what ye see?” Malcolm asked and, before Jamie could answer, slid his own hand down his naked chest and through the curly hair at his groin to stroke his cock gently. Once, twice, three times his hand moved back and forth while he tilted his head back slightly and moaned deep in his throat. He didn't need to look down to feel how Jamie was reacting to this; he could feel the man under him writhing with barely contained desire.
"Malcolm please," Jamie pleaded.
"Not a fucking chance. And you didn't say Sir."
"Please, SIR!" Jamie practically screamed, eyes starting to bug out of his head.
"No. Not that easy. Since you can't seem to SAY the things I want you to say, I'll give that fucking mouth of yours something else to do."
Malcolm slid off Jamie and laid down beside him, rolling his trousers off so he was (finally) as naked as Jamie was, and judging by the size of his erection, just as eager. He had far more restraint than Jamie though and intended to prove it in a very enjoyable fashion. “Sit up” he ordered Jamie. “Now are ye going to be good and ask fer this?” he ran a single finger up his erection and moaned softly.
“I want you tae come down my throat......sir” Jamie's big blue eyes looked at Malcolm with a frantic air of desire. As he leaned over Malcolm's naked body he could feel drops of his pre-come landing on the older scot. “Please?”.
Malcolm waved him down. “Nuff talkin'. Get to work ye lazy shite. If you are very good I may let ye come afterwards”.
As Jamie ran his tongue up Malcolm's cock he felt it pulse briefly before he wrapped his lips around it. Malcolm must be closer to the edge than he let on, knowledge that made Jamie grin. He'd done that. Him, Jamie fucking MacDonald, was the only one who made Malcolm hot and horny and coming.
Malcolm gritted his teeth and let out a soft moan of approval as Jamie's tongue flickered across his swollen length before taking it down inside his throat. He never forgot the first time Jamie did this, the two of them drunk, laughing, celebrating an election victory that had ended up with them both in the dark confines of Malcolm's office at 2am with the two of them practically wrapped round each other.
Jamie had nearly sucked Malcolm's brains out through his dick that night and felt like he was going for a repeat performance tonight.
Malcolm would privately admit that Jamie's oral skills were literally incredible, beyond compare and he came so close to losing control when he watched him practice those skills. "Jesus Jamie" he gasped "you're a fucking great little cocksucker aren't ye?"
Jamie couldn't help but moan at the profane words of praise, causing vibrations to emanate from his throat and make delicious sensations around Malcolm's cock. "Fuck yes. So good" Malcolm inhaled sharply as Jamie lightly grazed his teeth against the hard shaft and fuck did Jamie ever need to touch himself right now.
He reached down to touch himself, thinking Malcolm wouldn't notice as he seemed to be in the throes of exquisite pleasure, however, the older man noticed everything and this was no exception.
"Oi cuntface! What did I fucking...oh God Jamie..what did I fucking say?! You don't get to do that until I say...stop Jamie, stop, I'm going tae..ooooh fuck fuck FUCK!" Malcolm's orgasm struck through his body like a thunderbolt, drawing wordless cries from his mouth and his back to spasm and arch. Hot jets of semen spilled down Jamie's throat and he swallowed them down like the good boy he was. He removed his hand from his erection and wiped his mouth.
"Yes sir," he said to Malcolm whose face was a perfect picture of orgasmic bliss, eyes unfocused and jaw slack.
Malcolm’s chest heaved as he struggled to regain his breath after coming so fucking hard (and unexpectedly), goddamn fucking Jamie and his clever mouth. The git was sat back on his heels with a very prominent hard-on and grinning like a fucking moron as well, like he was going to get everything he wanted just because he’d made Malcolm come.
But he had touched himself without Malcolm’s approval and if there was one thing Malcolm couldn’t stand – it was disobedience.
Jamie sat and waited patiently for Malcolm's next command. When he finally seemed to be able to speak he sat up, propping himself up on his elbows.
"Now. You had been doing so well until you decided to touch yourself. Whatever should I do with you?"
"I don't know sir.'
"Well I do. Go take a cold shower. NOW. And I WILL be watching you to make sure you don't do anything...sordid."
Fuck, thought Jamie, the auld fuck really is angry with me. He had no intention of calming down though.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Malcolm stood up and grabbed Jamie's hair in a fierce grip. "I know what ye are thinking remember? I always fucking know." With that he nearly dragged Jamie into their bathroom and gave him a hard slap on the arse when he resisted getting in to the shower.
Shuddering slightly from the sharp pleasure of Malcolm's hand on his flesh, Jamie stepped into the huge shower cubicle. "Ye watching sir?" He asked, an idea brewing in his head.
"Yes. Get the fuck on with it and clean your fucking act up"
So, Malcolm wanted to watch, thought Jamie. Let's give him a show...
Jamie reached over and turned on the shower, setting the water to the coldest he could stand. Even the stinging cold water couldn't dampen his sexual desire and his erection was as hard as ever. Malcolm stood naked in the bathroom and watched Jamie as he reached over and squirted shampoo into his hands then lathered his rich curls with the lightly scented foam. Malcolm's erection was fast returning, he'd always been fast to recover and he immensely enjoyed watching Jamie wash, eyes following the suds as they washed down his lithe form.
Jamie closed his eyes and let his hands drift down his flat stomach, going lower..
"Oi, NO!" yelled Malcolm and Jamie took his hands away from his body despite every muscle desperate for touch now. The cold water wasn't even making a dent in his erection and his mind was full of swirling images of Malcolm taking him roughly up against the bathroom walls and fucking him hard and fast....
Standing stock still in the shower Jamie waited for Malcolm to command him. He wanted, no, needed to come now after all this build up and seeing Malcolm reach the peak of pleasure earlier.
Walking forward Malcolm opened the shower door, leaned over and turned the knob until the water was nice and hot again, for which Jamie was immensely grateful. He then climbed in, shutting the door behind him. The scent of the shampoo was intoxicating, as was the image of Jamie soaking wet, steam billowing around him. Malcolm reached out and clamped his hand down on Jamie's jaw, hard enough to produce a whimper. He then leaned in and gave Jamie a chaste kiss, a barest touch of lips. It was enough. Jamie pressed himself against Malcolm, his eager erection pressing into Malcolm's skin. He pushed Jamie back, pressed him against the shower tile and fisted a palm full of curly hair.
"Now Jamie. So far you've been a somewhat good boy. And very soon you'll have your reward. There's just one more thing you must do."
"Anything," he breathed. Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "Anything, SIR."
"Good. I want you to repeat after me."
"Yes sir."
"I, Jamie Callum McDonald, do solemnly swear to never, EVER, use Malcolm's toothbrush to brush my disgusting fucking teeth ever again so long as I live." Jamie did as Malcolm bid.
"Good, very good. Now what should I do to you for being such a good boy?"
Jamie gulped "Anythin' ye want Sir" and Malcolm grinned that smile that normally sent lesser people running for cover but Jamie knew meant the auld git had a plan.
Malcolm pushed him against the wall of the shower so the water was running down both of them and reached for the soap, lathering his hands up and then placing them back on Jamie's body. "Stay fucking put" he commanded and slid his soapy hands down Jamie's naked wet body; heading for the insistent erection poking at him. His hand clasped around it and Jamie gasped, the sound alone making Malcolm's cock twitch, and then both of them moaned as Malcolm's hand started to move.
Every muscle in Jamie's body tightened as Malcolm worked his hand fast and hard on Jamie's shaft. He stroked him with such vigour that it was just the right side of painful, twisting his fist on the upstrokes. Jamie dug his fingers into Malcolm's shoulder, buried his face against Malcolm's neck, breathing faster and faster with each stroke. He didn't have to see the auld fucker's face to know he had a smug smile plastered across his features but at this point he really didn't care.
His moans became incoherent as Malcolm worked him faster, harder, the pleasure rising to painful levels for all he'd been denied earlier. He managed a shouted 'please!' as Malcolm gripped him harder and licked a wide stripe up Jamie's neck before gently biting the wet flesh.
'Please what?' The auld fucker replied, never missing a stroke.
Jamie whimpered "Please make me fucking come all over ye SIR!"
"Good boy," Malcolm growled into Jamie's ear. He somehow increased the speed with which he stroked Jamie's throbbing erection and it didn't take long for Jamie to finally reach the peak. The younger man nearly screamed Malcolm's name as he came, waves of pleasure rippling through his spine and stealing his breath away. He came so hard that his vision went a bit blurry and Malcolm had to catch him so he wouldn't fall to the floor of the shower.
Propping Jamie up Malcolm slid carefully down to the floor of the enormous shower then turned the water off. The two men sat on the cold hard floor, not caring that the air was cooling rapidly.
Malcolm held Jamie in his arms, stroked his wet hair. He knew from their years together that Jamie would need some affection and Malcolm gave it gladly. He truly did love the little fucker, even if he did have a splendid skill for getting on Malcolm's last raw nerve.