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A stream of moonlight breaches the confines of his curtains, shining all the more brightly in his eyes. Jake squints, his vision coming into focus too slowly for his liking. The popcorn ceiling greets him, a familiar view that he's grown rather accustomed to. It's grounding, soothing in a way that his skin could never be. The thrumming that accompanies his sudden consciousness is the one thing he'll never adjust to.
He can feel his pulse, how the veins threaten to burst through his skin. It's uncomfortable, unnerving, even. Temptation— the urge, the sheer want to rip every last too bright, too blue vein out of his body is overwhelming. His fingers itch for control, to scratch at his skin until blood pools, until he can feel the nerves and pull. The thought is tantalizing, something so far, yet so near. Jake wishes, a fleeting idea, that he could reach out and grab it. Run, even, to chase after that thought.
But tonight, his legs have a mind of their own. Something he finds he can never control anymore; the limbs on his body aren't his. He swings his legs over the bed, feeling the cold, hardwood tiles meet his bare feet. Jake shivers; the temperature was something he should've grown used to ages ago. It was an eternal being, the cruel winters never seeming to leave his side.
Jandel, he supposes, is similar to the awful season.
He rises to his feet, footing unstable as he blinks— once, twice, simply to refocus his gaze. There's never much of a point in doing so; he knows where he's going. He always knows.
His mind distantly tracks his movements, noting the way he carefully steps over a discarded pile of blood-soiled clothes. The bedroom door that greets him is old, a dark oak that's beginning to chip away with the passing months. A metal doorknob, which rusts where it meets the wood, sits idly in its position. It's not locked. When has Jake ever latched the door? His hand meets the blistering cold metal, wrapping his fingers around the circular object, before twisting.
He pushes the door open and continues his adventure, feet padding across the floor with a silence that didn't exactly scream, “Jake.” Soft snores echo throughout the halls, a distant reminder of the building's residents. He raises a hand, a movement performed by himself, and drags it along the cream coloured walls. Every little bump brings him back to reality, a forcible reminder of the incessant pounding in his head.
All movement comes to a halt when he's greeted with a metal panel, one that he's become all the more accustomed to. An engraving of the letter J is impossibly large, accounting for most of its design. He presses a finger to it, particularly his index, and listens to the soft “vrr” it emits. A light, magnificently blue and bright, envelops his finger, scanning his fingerprint. In front of him, the wall begins to rise, the machine seemingly working over time to reveal a glass door.
He drops his hand, letting it fall to his side before taking an involuntary step forward, pushing through the door with his shoulder. The door scratches against the floor, revealing the space before him in better quality. It's a large area, filled mostly by Jandel's lab equipment he'd transported in, likely during the dead of night. There’s never a mess, always clean— everything in proper order, aside from a missing chair. Jake blinks, a spark of confusion igniting from within, as his gaze lazily travels from the absent seat to the middle of the room.
Ah, that’s where it is.
Before him, Jandel sits with his cheek pressed against his fist, a sharp smile painting his features. He watches the tiger hybrid with fascination— something he’s always done. Examining Jake, memorizing every little detail about him to the very T. —before sitting upright, his hands placed in his lap.
“Jacob,” a velvety, almost sultry tone that entices him, drawing him in further to the hole he’d already dug himself. Jake takes a step forward. Out of his control. “What are you doing here?” A rhetorical question. Jandel knows the answer to it. He always does.
“You know why,” he rasps, throat dry. Jandel reaches out, slipping his hand under the soft fabric of Jake's T-shirt. His fingers are warm, a stark contrast to the cold of Jake's skin. “When do you not know? You're— you're like some fucked up mastermind genius, aren't you?” There's no bite to his tone, fuck, when is there ever? He says it only with a furrow of his eyebrows, his voice level, albeit a tad shaky.
Jandel smiles.
“I appreciate the compliment.” He traces circles on his waist, the feeling sending a shiver down Jake's spine. Tonight, the curtains on the tiny windows are drawn open, allowing the moonlight to shine in. It illuminates Jandel's face in a way that makes him look saintly, like a God.
Jake thinks, distantly, that maybe Jandel is the God in his world. His Lord, in some strange, fucked up way. The one he comes crawling back to, the one he craves the sweet approval of. He'd offered to get on his knees for him in the past— Jake thinks he'd still do it, if it meant Jandel would stay at the center of his universe.
Jandel snakes a second hand up his shirt, feeling the expanse of his body. It's not new territory; they've done this dance before. And yet, Jake feels all the more exposed. His shirt is slowly lifted, revealing his abdomen, to which Jandel presses his tongue flat against Jake's stomach. The sudden warmth is shocking, and his breath hitches.
“Jacob,” he whispers against his skin, lips brushing his Adonis belt. Then, his hands are gone, resting on the chair's armrests. “Sit.” Jandel leans back, his legs open— offering.
It's hard to resist him.
Slowly, Jake lowers himself to the ground, breathing heavier. The loss of warmth from Jandel's hands is torturous, as the cold seems to envelop him once more. His eyes dart up to meet the monkey hybrid's, who stares at him expectantly, smiling like all those years ago. A hand meets his hair, running through the knotted strands, and stops by the twitching feline ear. He scratches behind it, and Jake whines.
“Good boy. So good when you listen to me.” An involuntary purr escapes the tiger, who squeezes his eyes shut. He can hear the sound of fabric shuffling, and his head is pulled closer. “Open your mouth.” It’s a command, no “please” or even a gentle coaxing tone. It’s authoritative— it always is with Jandel. So, Jake does as told. He opens his mouth and waits for his next list of instructions. Salt, rather than words, greets him instead. The taste of pre-come is ever-so present on his tongue, and he laps at it.
A breathy chuckle comes from the man above. Jake takes that as his cue to move closer, shuffling on his hands and knees to comfortably wrap his lips around the tip. He runs his tongue over the slit, briefly dipping it in, as he groans low in his throat. His eyes open, half-lidded as he watches Jandel through his eyelashes, and he hollows his cheeks, taking the scientist impossibly deep. As a reward, he earns a ragged breath, the hand in his hair tightening slightly.
“You were made for this,” his voice drops an octave— husky. Dark. Jake shivers and bobs his head, moaning when Jandel offers him a thrust of his hips, fucking into the warmth of his mouth. It’s everything he ever wanted, yet nothing like it all at once. “So perfect around me, it’s a shame you can’t see yourself.”
He remembers, distantly, how Jandel had set up a mirror once. Bent him over a nearby counter, and pulled his hair. He held him in that position, making Jake watch himself fall apart, teary face and spit-slick lips. The filthy words that the scientist whispered into his ear remained stuck in his head, chanted like a mantra in the dead of night. Those nights, he’d curl his fingers into tight fists, feeble attempts to will away the sinful praises.
Jake whines when the tip of Jandel's cock grazes the back of his throat, spit trickling from the side of his mouth. He’s a mess, pupils dilated and shuffling awkwardly on the floor. Jandel loves it all the same; he’s always liked it when Jake made a mess of himself. His thumb rests idly atop the scar on Jake’s eye, stroking it lightly. It’s healed strangely— not like any injury heals properly out here, in the eternal cold. They’re at constant risk for infection, for some kind of major fuck up. —or maybe it was from how he was cut. Jake can’t recall.
“That’s enough, Jacob.” His breathing is heavy, his expression dark. From here, Jandel doesn’t look so put together anymore. He’s run his fingers through his hair several times, messing with the curly locks on his head. Jake retreats, a slow, methodical process as he swirls his tongue around the head before popping off. He raises his hand, holding Jandel’s dick as he peppers feather-like kisses along the length.
If Jandel wanted him to stop, he didn’t voice it. Instead, he placed his hand atop Jake’s head again, petting him like an animal. Which he definitely is. He purred, a low, vibrating sound from the back of his throat, as he mouthed at Jandel's cock. Groaning, the scientist let his head fall back, his chest rising in steady increments.
“Kitty,” he rasps, and Jake knows its implications— he's memorized every little detail of Jandel, God, how could he not? He swallowed him whole. Swarmed his existence, clouded his vision. He was a God, the Supreme Being, whom Jake would lay his naked body open for. His eyes dart up to meet Jandel's, watching as those perfectly blue irises darken. “Stand up.”
Commanding. Shakily, he rises to his feet, maintaining eye contact. Piercing blue eyes stare through him, drilling holes into his body, and Jake swallows. A hand reaches out, slides under the confines of his shirt, and slowly pulls it over his body with Jake's assistance. Pale skin is illuminated under the bright glow of moonlight, highlighting the numerous scars decorating his chest. Jandel traces his fingers over them, a ghosting touch, leaning forward to press a kiss to his abdomen.
“Beautiful.”
Jake shudders, his hands pressed firmly to his sides. Jandel pulls away, resting back against his chair, sweat-matted hair against his face. He smirks, a slight tug of his lips that Jake caught nonetheless. His eyes trail, stopping at the waistband of the tiger's pyjama pants.
“Go on.”
His thumbs tug loosely at the cloth. It's thin, baggy. He pulls, letting the fabric pool at his feet. Jake looks to the side.
He can feel Jandel's eyes on him, memorizing every inch. There's no need to do so; they both know that. This will happen again, always again. The tension at the dining table thickens with every glance, every catch of the eye. Jandel knows his body better than he ever could, feels it from the inside out.
Jake wonders what goes through his head when Jandel starts poking at his stomach, if he's trying to dig into him.
Nails scratch along pale skin, blossoming into red lines on his body. He whines, a high and needy sound, as Jandel digs said nails into his slowly healing scars. His body arches away, then back into the feeling, breathing significantly heavier. Jandel leans forward to press a kiss against the suddenly abused scar. Their eyes meet, and a smile, sinister in its wake, spreads across his face.
His legs move, entirely out of his control, stepping out of his pants and bending to sit comfortably on Jandel's lap. A hand comes to rest on the small of his back, pulling him impossibly close. The soft cotton of the monkey hybrid's sleep shirt rubs against his barren dick, a friction that has Jake's breath hitch. He cranes his neck, mouth mere inches away from the pale skin.
The sound of rummaging fills the silence. Jake chooses to ignore it, focusing on the way Jandel's chest rises and falls with his. He focuses on the way Jandel presses against his back, forcing him to arch and press himself chest to chest with the scientist. Lips pepper soft kisses along his neck, the hand on his back travelling lower. It rests at the back of his thigh, and he offers it a light pat.
“Up, c'mon, Kitty,” his voice is a low rumble, something that has Jake obeying his every word. He lifts himself, shuddering when Jandel squeezes his ass. “Good boy.” Something cold presses against him, and Jake arches his back, a whimper clawing its way through his throat. Jandel simply hums, his hand resting on Jake’s thigh now, tracing light circles on the pale flesh.
Slowly, he presses a finger in, breaching the tight ring of muscle. Jake bows his head, his hands on both of Jandel's shoulders— and he squeezes. His nails dig into the fabric of his shirt, threatening to tear a hole through it as Jandel moves. Jake squeezes his eyes shut. Jandel works him open at an agonizingly slow pace, and he can't help the sob that tears through him.
“So perfect for me,” Jandel whispers. It's a sweet thing, something laced with so much affection— and yet, Jake can’t feel any of it. A second finger intrudes, pressing into him with slow precision. Jake shivers. “If only you could see yourself. My perfect boy.”
Jake whines.
“God, you're pretty.” He curls his fingers. Jake gasps. “Let me see your face.” Jandel's grabbing him by the cheeks, a harsh grip, and Jake can feel himself being pulled closer. When his eyes open again, they're face to face. There's a grin plastered on the scientist's face, and he leans closer, ruining the small gap of space between them.
Their lips meet in a rough kiss, teeth clash against teeth, but Jake thinks he likes it. He feels the ferocity when Jandel bites his bottom lip— it's hard enough to draw blood. His mouth opens, a loud, needy moan escaping him, and Jandel sneaks his tongue in. They've run through this dance a hundred times, memorized every step, and yet, it feels like new, uncharted territory every time. Jandel curls his fingers, then slips in a third.
His hands are in the scientist's hair now, fistfuls of curly locks between his fingers as he tugs slightly. A sharp groan, and the pace at which Jandel works him open quickens. Their lips must've disconnected at some point as Jake's mouth slips open, his breathing shallow while he presses back, timing himself with every thrust of Jandel's fingers.
There's a grin on his face. The flash of pearly whites greets him in the dark room. Jake squeezes his eyes shut.
Even with his eyes closed, even when the dark surrounds him, he can always see him. That faint glow outlining Jandel's figure, the one that he sees in every dream of his. He's like an angel— no, more like a God. Forever the centre of his universe.
“Jan,” he chokes out. It's said like a holy thing, like it's the medicine he's always needed. Jandel curls his fingers again, then slips out. A wet pop, sloppy. It's an ungraceful noise, one that tarnishes the picture-perfect image of something so sacred.
“Yeah?” His voice is husky. Jake watches him move— his actions are slow, calculated, as his palm grazes the jutting bones on his hips. His nails drag along the pale flesh of his ass, and Jake shivers. He listens intently, taking note of the bottle cap popping open and the squirt of liquid. Jandel looks at him, eyebrow raised.
“Talk to me, Kitty.” Again with that commanding voice. Always demanding so much out of him.
But Jake will forever supply him with whatever he wants, won't he? He swallows.
“Please,” he whines. His body arches, pressing his flushed, hard dick against the fabric of Jandel's shirt. There's a glint of fascination in those damning blue eyes.
“Please, what?” He teases, the sound of lube being applied filling the space around them. Jake shifts, grinding pathetically against Jandel. “Use your words, baby blue. C'mon.” A gasp. Soft. Quiet. The older man bows his head, whimpering.
“Hurry up,” he breathes out. “Please hurry up and fuck me, please.”
Something dark flashes in Jandel’s eyes, and he smirks.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “Working on it.” His hands are on Jake’s hips, and in one swift motion, he pushes the older man down. A keening sob escapes the tiger hybrid, and his hands fly up to clutch at Jandel’s hair. “Fuck,” as he’s enveloped in Jake, and Jake only. “God, you’re so pretty, Jacob.”
He doesn't wait. No, when has Jandel ever waited? He takes for himself; takes what he wants for himself. What he thinks he deserves.
And when Jandel wants Jake of all people? Who is he to deny the man at the center of his universe?
Jake runs his mouth; he always has at times like this. He babbles, mumbling about something incoherent— Jandel eats it up.
His breathing is heavy. Hot against Jake's neck, and he can feel the scrape of teeth along his pulse point. Maybe, in the past, he would've begged Jandel to sink his teeth in. To mark him, to make Jake his. He would've whined, sobbed— fuck, he would've gotten down on his knees and licked his shoes clean.
Now, Jake wonders if he'd tear out the veins in his neck. If he'd puncture the muscle, rip him to shreds, and leave him unrecognizable.
He thinks, though, that Jandel likes him too much for that.
Jake's hips move with a mind of their own. A sloppy, unrhythmic beat of up-down-up-down. He's riding him like a mediocre prostitute— fresh in the market. Jandel's hands, calloused and rough, hold onto him by the ass. He digs his nails in, fucking growls in his ear, and thrusts into the older man harder.
They're fucking like animals. They always have. Jake's tail— this obnoxiously long tiger tail —sways side to side. His ears are lowered, and he whines.
“Sound so pretty for me,” Jandel mumbles, latching his lips onto the naked expanse of Jake's neck. He sucks. Hard. The hickey that he leaves is surely going to be nasty. “God, need you like this every night. So fucking obedient. So good.”
Jake grinds his hips down, listening intently to the almost primal noise that Jandel lets out. The older man moans a pathetic little sound— Jandel surges up to capture his lips in a kiss. It’s not sweet. When has it ever been?
Sloppy, uncoordinated, desperate. That's what they've always been. They need each other like air, like they're the only things that exist in the world.
Jake groans when Jandel stops his thrusts, whimpering into the kiss. Their positions switch, a quick movement that takes the older man by surprise. Jandel has him against the chair now, and Jake wraps his legs around the scientist's waist. He grips onto the chair's arms, gasping as Jandel fucks into him once more.
“Jan— ah, Janny—” his eyes are half-lidded, watching the younger man through a hazy gaze. The sounds that fill the room are obscene; skin meets skin at speeds that seem almost inhuman; Jake whines these little noises that have Jandel going faster. His eyes squeeze shut. “Please— ohfuckpleaseplease—” Jake throws his head back, hitting the back of the chair as his hands fly up— he scrambles for purchase, clawing at Jandel's arms.
“Shit, so beautiful for me, Kitty. So, so pretty,” he breathes out, his hands on Jake's hips. His grip is harsh. Bruising. The older man thinks he wants those marks to last forever— that he wants to wake up and find Jandel's print on him. Dark and fucking claiming.
Jake can't tell if it's his own thoughts whispering dirty ideas into his mind, or Jandel's fucked up ability to infiltrate his mind.
His brain short-circuits when Jandel perfectly aims his next thrust, repeatedly hitting his prostate. He sobs this pathetic little noise, high-pitched and shaky, as he releases onto his stomach. It paints his torso— hell, it almost hits his chin.
Jandel is rambling now, rattling words of appraisal into his ear. His hands have travelled, thumb resting easily on Jake's chin. He toys with the corner of his lip, and in the midst of his post-orgasmic haze, Jake sucks the digit in.
“God, I love you, baby blue. Fuck, I love you, ya know that, right?” His hips stutter, thrusts faltering with every word he draws out. “Fuckfuckfuck, I need you— need you all to myself. Mine, all mine,” he practically growls, his other hand flying up to grab the head of his chair. “Say it, say it, Jacob. Say you're mine. Fuck—”
His nerves are alight, the overstimulation growing to be too much. He opens his eyes— Jake hadn't realized they'd still been closed. —and meets Jandel's gaze. He's sure he looks a mess, but fuck, the way the scientist is staring at him makes him feel something else.
“Yours, Janny— only yours—” and, in his cracked voice, that's what sends Jandel over the edge. One last thrust and all movement comes to an abrupt stop. Jake can feel it, every final, pulsing drop, and he lets his head fall forward.
Jake wonders why they never did this earlier; why Jandel never took him when he offered himself so, so openly. He'd have torn himself open if Jandel asked him to.
He blinks, a slow movement, and realizes that the scientist had pulled out. His eyes drift, slowly meeting an ocean of beautiful blue, and Jake lets out a shaky breath.
It's almost tender. Almost. How Jandel strokes his cheek, this soft smile playing on his features, before he pulls back. Blue eyes fall, scraping over the mess that Jake had made of himself. Something dark flashes over his loving expression, and slowly, he lowers himself to the floor. He kneels, one knee pressed against the cold concrete, and the other lifted.
Like a proposal.
Jake turns his head, looking at the wall, as Jandel presses his tongue against his stomach. A long drag— he can't quite tell if it's disgusting or appealing. Maybe a bit of both, all at once.
When Jandel pulls away, he stands up. Not for long, not enough for him to walk away. He leans down, captures Jake's lips in a kiss that feels so horribly loving. And Jake reciprocates, because he wants him to mean it.
He wonders if Jandel ever kissed his wife like this.
It should've been gross— foul, even, tasting himself on another man's tongue. But when Jandel pulls away slightly, whispering soft affirmations against his lips, Jake thinks he can tolerate it. Just a little longer— just for Jandel to stay.
“I love you,” Jake mumbles, breaking the kiss for only a moment. Jandel pauses, his arms wrapped around the tiger hybrid's torso.
“I love you, too.” And Jake thinks he means it. Because he can see the way Jandel's expression shifts, the way there's this hint of vulnerability that flashes across his face. Jake smiles and leans back into the chair.
His eyes are heavy. He doesn't want to sleep yet, though. No, he can't.
Even so, when Jandel presses this quick kiss against his forehead, he finds his eyes falling shut. Darkness consumes him, swallows him whole. It overtakes his senses, just like Jandel had all those years ago.
“Goodnight, Jacob," he hears Jandel whisper.
—
The morning light is jarring against his eyes. Jake turns his head, pain shooting through his body. He looks down at himself, his arms decorated with horrifying blue branches. A grimace, then, he looks to his side.
The space beside him is empty. Cold. Nobody was next to him last night, nobody came to bed with him.
But when he limps to the washroom and looks in the mirror, he sees those purpling bruises on his hips. And, God, Jake can't help but press his fingers against them. Just to feel him again.