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“Gus is dead. We’ve got work to do.”
For a moment Jesse just continues to stare at him in stunned silence. “Seriously…? Did you like, check?”
“100% dead. Guaranteed.” Walt stalks closer to him.
Jesse looks so helpless like this, chained up, completely at the mercy of others— a damsel in distress. If it wasn’t for Walt, Gus would’ve kept him down here for God knows how long as some what? Meth slave? Jesse’s so lucky to have him. Someone to look out for him, protect him.
This was all for the best.
Jesse moves, seemingly forgetting about the handcuffs causing it to clank loudly against the equipment. “Shit. Right. Hey, I think the keys in-“
Before he can finish his sentence Walt cups the back of his head and presses their lips together roughly. He slides his tongue in and slots their legs together grinding into him, eliciting a moan from Jesse. He still tastes like cigarettes.
“Ah- Mr. White- wait… the keys…” he tries to pull away but Walt holds him firmly and drags him back into a kiss. Jesse gives in and melts into it as he starts fumbling with his hazmat suit.
He only manages to unzip it and attempt to shrug it off with some struggle before Walt tears it off for him. He yanks down Jesse’s jeans and boxers together and is satisfied to find that he was already completely hard.
He gives it a few short strokes while he makes quick work of his own pants. With both of their cocks now free, he slides them together and pumps them at the same time. Walt thumbs at their heads at the dribble of precum leaking out and spreads it between them. The wetness makes them move together more easily.
Their kissing turns more and more messy till they’re practically just mouthing weakly and panting hot into each other's mouths.
Jesse is obviously close by now— his face flushed, mouth hanging open and breathing heavy. Walt is too, yet still… it isn’t enough.
He doesn’t want it to end like this.
“Mr. White, I think I’m gonna-“ Jesse grips him close and buries his face in Walt’s neck as he shudders and spills all over the both of them.
Jesse’s still in the middle of regaining his breath when Walt spins him around and bends him over against the equipment. “Yo, chill out would you?”
“Shut your legs together.”
Jesse does as he’s told. No matter how much he might argue or put up a fight he always does what he’s told. Walt sinks his cock between Jesse’s thighs. They work best like this. He starts to rock into him.
Walt traces his hand along Jesse's skull— soft fuzz. It’s a pity he buzzed all his hair off. Now there’s nothing for him to grab on to anymore.
The chains jingle steadily into the background.
Walt takes hold of the cuffs digging into Jesse’s frail wrist, caressing cold metal against warm skin. With Jesse bound like this he couldn’t even get away from him if he wanted to.
Not that he does.
Not anymore. Jesse was his again. All his. Just as he should be.
It’s that thought that does it for Walt and has him biting hard into the soft part of Jesse’s neck as he finishes.
*
Walt shoves Jesse’s face down further into the bed as he continues to work his fingers into him carefully avoiding his prostate. Under him the boy can only whine as he grows more and more desperate.
“Mr. White— Please…”
Walt grits his teeth as he takes out his own cock and starts stroking it in tandem with his fingers. As much as he loves to bring Jesse to the point of begging he was getting more and more worked up himself.
Gripping himself at the base he pulls his fingers out and then pushes his cock without warning fully into Jesse causing him to cry out at the sudden stretch. He takes it without complaint though. Jesse would rather bite off his own tongue than admit it, but Walt knew that he liked it a bit rough; it was all Jesse’s own fault, really. He digs his fingers in his hips hard, hoping they’d bruise.
Walt stays still, panting and enjoying the feeling of tight heat around him, trying to steady himself so he doesn’t finish too soon.
Leaning over him— front pressed right up against Jesse’s back he begins to move, hitting his prostate with each thrust. The sounds of their sex fills the room: bed creaking, a steady stream of moans.
Walt’s eyes fall onto Jesse’s hands which hold the sheets in a tight grip. His slender fingers… His delicate wrists… Beautiful… But empty. He trails a hand across his arm ending at the wrist and squeezes.
*
Mr. White has been talking vaguely nonstop about some ‘surprise’ he has for Jesse. It’s almost kinda freaky. He should probably be more concerned considering Mr. White’s… well everything, but he honestly can’t find it in himself to care all that much.
He had invited Jesse over to his condo (more like lured) which was already rare enough on its own (they usually just did everything at Jesse’s house) but Mr. White was also being strangely nice about the whole thing too.
There’s no way this guy isn’t planning something weird.
Whatever. He rings on the doorbell and waits.
Less than 5 seconds pass by before the door bursts open and Mr. White drags him inside.
“Hello to you too.” Jesse manages, annoyed, before Mr. White shoves him against the wall. He whispers something unintelligible into his neck and starts to mouth at it, definitely trying to leave some giant mark on him. Since they started this whole thing, Jesse has had to become extremely familiar with ladies' makeup in order to hide them.
Jesse clings on to his shoulders anyway.
Mr. White pulls back to admire whatever monstrosity he left on his neck and gives a slight but satisfied hum.
He takes Jesse’s wrist and leads him to the bedroom walking way too fast which makes the boy stumble a little.
“Jesus… dude,” Jesse mutters under his breath. He wants to yank his hand away too but he knows it will cause a fuss so he bites back.
What could he possibly be this excited for that he has to drag him around like some dog?
Mr. White opens the door.
Ah.
What the fuck.
Secured to the headboard of the bed there are a pair of black leather cuffs with blue insides. There’s some other stuff sitting next to it too but Jesse can’t tell exactly what it is— probably more freak shit.
He looks over at Mr. White who’s just staring at him all creepy.
“This is like, a joke. Right?” He gives a weak laugh as he tries to back away slowly.
“Jesse.” Mr. White puts a firm hand on the back of his neck, halting him. He strokes his thumb across his adams apple and Jesse hates the way he craves his touch— wants him to do more. He can feel heat creeping up onto his face.
“I’m not doing it.”
“Relax.” Mr. White slides his other hand under his shirt and starts rubbing at a nipple. “I really don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it.” He pinches it twisting slightly— Jesse’s breath hitches. “Or maybe you’re just putting up a front. Pretending.”
Jesse glares at him then or tries to anyway; he’s more turned on than anything. He shifts a little to hide the way his jeans are starting to fill out but Mr. White moves his hand from his neck and places it flat up against his crotch leaving no room for doubt.
“You want it.”
“W-Whatever man. Just-“ He grinds into him. “Hurry up.”
Not needing to be told twice (or just before Jesse could change his mind) Mr. White brings him into a kiss and pushes at him till the back of Jesse’s legs hit the bedframe.
Jesse kicks off his shoes as he drops down onto the bed and then yanks off his shirt, tossing it on the floor. He scoots up the bed; Mr. White follows— making him feel very much like a hunted animal. Like prey.
Mr. White takes each bony wrist in hand and raises them to the cuffs. Jesse has to keep his arms raised still, allowing him to fasten it shut. One by one.
Oh God, is he really letting him do this?
His boner doesn’t stop though so neither does he.
Jesse tugs at the restraints testing them: secure but not harsh. Only now does he notice Mr. White reaching for something else.
“Yo, is that a fucking dog collar?”
Mr. White simply chuckles as he continues to bring the collar near his neck.
Jesse jolts back as far as he can while tied up (which… isn’t much, really.) “Hey! This isn’t what I signed up for!”
“And what exactly did you sign up for?”
“Y’know like- Just- Well not this!”
“Oh so this is fine,” he gestures towards the cuffs. “But this,” he holds up the collar, “No, no that's too much.”
Jesse rolls his eyes. If this conversation lasts any longer his erection will start wilting away to nothing. He wonders how he’s even still hard in the first place.
“Do whatever you want.”
“Good boy.” Mr. White pets his hair in a way Jesse is nearly certain is mocking.
The collar wraps around his throat, almost gentle, and he can feel it buckle closed. His throat bobs as he swallows.
“What, you’re not gonna blindfold me too?” He asks. Half joke, half actual question.
Mr. White smiles. “Is that what you want?”
“H-Hell no.” He tries to sound more forceful but it comes out weak.
The sound of the leash clipping on sounds louder to Jesse than it probably actually was.
“I want you to see everything. No hiding.” He caresses the leather around him carefully like it’s priceless.
With Mr. White staring down at him so hungrily he gets the impression that he would keep him like this forever if he could.
A shiver passes through him.
Still gripping the leash Mr. White grazes his hand along Jesse’s chest feeling each protruding rib and pinches at a pink nipple, mouth immediately going down to the other. Jesse can’t help but arch into his touch as he toys with them. Licking and sucking and pinching and twisting till they’re wet and puffy from use.
As he bites down gently on an oversensitive nipple, Mr. White slides his hand downwards and unbuttons Jesse’s jeans. Jesse lifts his hips to assist as he pulls them off the rest of the way making him now completely naked while Mr. White was still fully clothed.
Mr. White reaches to the nightstand and grabs the bottle of lube sitting right on top. He spreads it onto his fingers then lowers his hand and teases at Jesse’s hole. Just rubbing around it slowly, torturously, but not actually entering.
That jerk.
Jesse tries to push into it but the restraints hold him back.
“Come on…” he whispers— cock already throbbing and leaking all over his stomach from almost nothing. He wasn’t gonna beg. He wasn't. (He said that every time though.)
Mr. White pushes two fingers in and sinks his mouth on Jesse’s cock at the exact same time. A surprised high pitched noise chokes out of the boy.
He pulls almost completely off, tongue still circling the head as he curls his fingers upwards. Jesse jerks his hips up as Mr. White takes every inch back in his mouth while stretching his fingers inside him.
The noises that come out of Jesse as Mr. White works him open are embarrassing. Every hum of his throat and rub against his prostate punches out a needy, pathetic whine from him. He wishes he could hide his face or muffle his voice somehow but he can’t move at all.
He’s entirely helpless to Mr. White in every way.
It doesn’t matter how much Jesse tries to control himself, he’s reaching his limit before the man could even get inside him. Mr. White pulls off of him with a wet sound and grazes his teeth gently down his cock.
“That’s it. Good. Good.” he whispers, breathing hot against it, curling his fingers inside him just the way he knows Jesse likes.
“I can’t- I can’t. I- “ Jesse moans as he cums all over his chest. Covered in his own mess, chest heaving, breathless, he can only vaguely register the faint sound of a zipper and his legs being hiked up.
The still sensitivity of his cock and the sudden fullness inside him is overwhelming. Mr. White doesn’t pause or give break either and immediately begins thrusting into him, not caring to be gentle in the least.
It’s all too much. Jesse pushes back into him not wanting it to stop. Every thought is focused on this moment consuming all others.
Tears blur his vision and Jesse digs his fingernails into his palms. It’s the only thing he can do as Mr. White pounds into him mercilessly.
Each movement of their bodies presses and rubs against Jesse’s dick trapped between them. A forceful pressure that has him hard again quickly.
Mr. White pushes Jesse’s legs even further to his chest, nearly folding him in half. His breathing is heavy on his neck and Jesse thinks he can make out words there too but they’re too soft to hear clearly.
“-mine.”
Jesse tries to tilt his head towards him to look at him better but his face is still obscured. Mr. White’s thrusting starts to become erratic. Unfocused.
He cups Jesse’s face and Jesse can feel the leather there. His hand is still holding the leash.
“Do you have any idea…” Mr. White trails off. “Everything that I’ve done for you...”
“I-I know.” He pants. It’s more breath than anything. How could he forget? “I know.”
“You need me. God, Jesse… You and I…” Mr. White gives a pointed thrust dragging a high whine out of Jesse. His hand trails down from Jesse’s face to his neck. “Mine.” Another sharp jerk of his hips. “You’re mine.” He yanks on the leash and it chokes Jesse slightly forcing a pitiful sound from his throat.
“All mine.”
Mr. White holds him close as he cums deep inside him. Cock throbbing with each pulse, he doesn’t stop moving pushing it even deeper.
With the warmth and fullness of being filled Jesse is unable to hold back his own release. He jerks against the restraints and clenches tight around him squeezing every last drop.
For a moment all that can be heard between them is the sound of their labored breathing.
Mr. White pulls out and Jesse’s cock twitches weakly at the feeling of cum dripping out of him. He’s completely covered in it both inside and out. A total mess.
He knows he should probably be disgusted by that but he finds that he doesn’t mind at all. If anything he wishes they could stay like this a little longer.
Mr. White undoes the cuffs in no hurry. He’s not making eye contact. With the leather finally removed Jesse hesitates (The hell? Is he waiting for permission or some shit?) before slowly lowering his arms. He rubs at his wrists, marked red, as Mr. White gets up and heads towards the bathroom.
Jesse watches him through the open door as he turns on the shower and starts to unbutton his shirt. He moves his hand to the collar still wrapped tight around his neck and traces it slowly along each and every stitch.
He can’t shake the creeping feeling that he agreed to more than he thought. Like there was some fine print somewhere he didn’t read.
The door shuts.