look at this damn fabulous set of fine bitches
i’m getting married to all of you no exceptions
Undo the asker’s bottoms with your teeth while making eye contact.
“Hm. Well, uh, that’s awfully daring indeed. Fine, but I am so docking your pay after this.”
Jack pushes Tim over to fall onto his plush office couch, grinning down after him. Hell, he wasn’t gonna refuse someone that good looking, now was he? He settles his weight on his knees between his double’s spread legs, keeping his thighs spread with the bruising grip of his fingers. He moves the bright yellow shirt of the way the best he can, holding it back with a hand and breathing hot on the exposed skin of Tim’s stomach. It’s easy enough to pretend it’s actually himself and not just someone he’s paying to wear his face.
“Y’know, I actually had a dream like this once, but it was uh, more the other way around, if you get what I’m saying.” Jack
stops hesitating and bites into the warm leather of the other’s belt,
tugging it free in inches, his teeth and the chin clasp on his mask
clicking hard on the metal of the buckles. Once he’s gotten that out of
the way he licks his lips and looks up at Tim through his lashes,
trying his damnedest to look as debauched as possible. This is a dare
after all, and hell if he isn’t going to give it a hundred and ten percent. His very pride is at stake.
The button of Tim’s jeans is a little more difficult (he’d really have to get Nish’ to teach him the trick to it). It takes a few tries, but he’s enjoying the way Tim shakes underneath him. He manages to pop it and does a little mental celebration. Shuddup, he’s a master at this. He remembers the eye contact part of the dare again as he goes for the zipper, clenching the tab hard between his teeth and going oh-so slow. He lets out a noise when he reaches the bottom, almost hurting something as he pulls away in victory.
“Yeah! How impressive was that, huh?” Jack pats Tim’s leg in a ‘hit the showers, boys’ move. “On a scale of one to a gazillion how turned on are you, be honest.”
Pet the claptrap. Nice claptrap, good claptrap.
RIDE THE CLAPTRAP
jack u o k
jack pl s
((TONIGHT’S DAMAGE
“Mmm, Tim. Timmy Timmy Tim.“ Jack takes a sip from his drink and bares his teeth as it goes down hard. He’s only on number three but it’s starting to hit him.
“I like Tim. More than I liked any of the others. I mean– everyone wants to be me, cause I’m– y’know, I’m friggin’ awesome, that’s ah– that’s a given– but Tim– oh-o-no; Tim didn’t. That’s why I picked him, y’know.” He barks out a laugh. “He had no idea! no idea– what he was getting into. I wanted to give him that gift. The gift of being me.“ He leans back in his chair.
“‘Cause that’s just how I am. A uh– generous guy.“
realнero: why are you yelling
realнero: you have an intercom right there we talked about this
~HJack69~: but yelling at you is so much more fun
~HJack69~: also while you’re at it, uh
~HJack69~: bring me caffeine
realнero: Nisha threatened me not to
realнero: You said I had to take orders from her
~HJack69~: who is ur boss here, tim
~HJack69~: do it and i’ll uh,
~HJack69~: give u a raise
~HJack69~: or somethin’ i dunno just save me from this h e l l
realнero: I’d like to get paid in the first place
realнero: fine
realнero: she’s your girlfriend so you get to deal with her when she finds out
~HJack69~: yeah but guess what kiddo
~HJack69~: if she does find out somehow, just y’know
~HJack69~: any old way
~HJack69~: i’m gonna repeat any punishment i get on ur a s s
realнero: yeah that’s some great incentive
realнero: not really
realнero: what happened to rewarding good behavior?
~HJack69~: i have yet to see any good behavior
~HJack69~: also all i wanted was a soda tim
~HJack69~: a soda !!
~HJack69~: more yelling about mutiny !!
No good behavior huh. Tim let the man continue to whine as he strolled into the office like he owned the place. He’d brought two unopened sodas and they were still cold. His fingers were numb by the time he got to Jack’s desk with them, setting one down on the surface in front of the man. The other one? He pressed it against the side of his namesake’s neck. “How’s this boss?”
Jack barely even notices Tim entering his office, too preoccupied with his beast of a headache and his own loud, indignant whining. (He swears, they’re all out to get him–) His attention is turned to the soda being put on his desk and he scrambles to sit up in his chair only to jump and sink back down into it as the cold can is pressed to his neck. He makes a long, drawn out noise low in his throat, and it’s almost sinful how pleased he is. It even ebbs his headache a little. He closes his eyes and leans back into his double.
“This is– this is…. yeah, good.”
Well that made the whining stop. Flexing the fingers of his now free hand Timothy laid if over the other’s forehead. It was still cold, numb, so he might as well put it to good use. “Why are you warm?” The second can was set down and his other hand took over pressing his palm flat against the chilled spot. When it felt cold enough? He moved up to the back of the neck. “I mean warmer than usual. Are you sure this is just a headache?” Fuck if Jack was sick he didn’t want to catch it.
“Mmm-mf?” Jack had stopped paying attention like, eight minutes ago. Those chilled fingers felt way to damn good on his overheated skin. He wondered if Tim was secretly a friggin’ wizard or somethin’ cause– Oh right he was talking.
“I’m always warm when I get headaches. I dunno, I think the weather control in here might be broken– or something. Whatever.” So long as Tim kept doing what he was doing he didn’t care about anything else.
“You’d probably cool down easier if you took your mask off.” The doppelgänger grumbled. He wasn’t about to take it off himself to spread the chill, figuring he was already lucky enough to get away how he was manhandling his boss. He didn’t linger on the guy’s neck for too long though, carding his fingers through Jack’s hair from the back up to massage up his scalp. “Are you going to drink it or did I sneak it up here for nothing?”
Jack snaps out of his trance at the suggestion, eyes narrowing and teeth clicking together. He’s tense and quiet as Tim’s hands go from his neck to his hair. He has the sudden urge to lash out, to bite, to cause the other pain. He forgets all about the drinks, his headache– his irritation rides on the pain of it.
He goes for the other’s wrist, touch slow but unyielding as he brings Tim’s hand to his face and sinks his teeth in hard-- hard enough to draw blood. Talking about the mask was one thing, but suggesting he take it off? Let’s just say Jack has a few wounds that are still fresh. If it was any other time, he would have just brushed it off; but as it is he feels far too overheated, too moody, and its the perfect environment to let his rage simmer.
He should have picked up on the tension, but he was too busy trying to chase the headache away. If it was the source of this heat and the complaining then he just wanted to banish it.
When his hand was grabbed Tim still made a curious noise, about to ask what the other was up too–except then he was bitten and he yelled. “Ow! Jack stop!” It was a miracle he didn’t use his grip in the man’s hair to yank his head back in an attempt to free himself. Instead he leaned closer, teeth set against the pain. “Boss please. Why are you–please that hurts.”
Would the pleading help? Probably not. Timothy did steel himself for more pain, his mind racing to something as far as broken bones if the guy was in a bad enough mood. Perhaps this was just Jack’s way of making him suffer, and since he couldn’t inflict the same migraine he had to apply the agony somewhere else.
Jack releases him, licking the salt and blood from his lips. The fit of rage dissipates as quickly as it came, and it leaves him feeling even more drained than before, but weirdly sated. He slumps further in his chair, kicking his feet up onto the desk, and makes another annoyed sound. He keeps his grip on Tim’s wrist, reaching for the can on his desk with his other hand and popping the drink into Tim’s bleeding one.
“Mm- open that for me, would ya’, kiddo?“ Jack says casually– like he didn’t just almost take a chunk out of the double’s hand with his teeth, like none of it ever happened.
The pressure went away, but Timothy could still feel the sting of the open wound. It wasn’t bad, but even a paper-cut hurt. His small pull to get free proved useless, so his alternative? Give up. He stood behind Jack’s chair, leaning over the back as the guy sunk down and rested his chin on his head. It let him loop the other arm around and sigh in defeat as he popped the top of the can open. It was a miracle it didn’t fizz out over the top, but he thanked his stars it didn’t. He didn’t want soda all over that fresh bite.
“Is cupholder getting added into my contract now?” Tim mumbled. He watched quietly as he continued to bleed, shifting his hand so it would drip down onto Jack’s clothes. Whoops. Totally an accident as he offered the open soda. “What if that scars huh? We won’t match.”
Jack sighs heavily as the dizziness from lack of caffeine finally sets in. He hums, pleased, at the feel of Tim around him– a small bit of stability where we feels like he could slip out of his chair at any moment, head full of fuzz.
“It was already on there,” He crosses an ankle over the other on his desk, closing his eyes and breathing out with a whoosh. “You should really learn to read the fine print.” He takes a swig of the cool drink, moaning contentedly at his small victory. “And also the, y’know– fine fine print.”
He frowns and rolls his eyes at the new stain on his clothes. He’d gotten really good at getting blood out of them ever since he started dating Nisha, but he takes note of Tim’s little defiance. He shrugs it off for now, and pulls Tim’s hand back to his mouth, licking away at the mess to keep it from dripping on him.
“Then I guess I’ll just have you bite me back, now won’t I?”
Always the fine print. Timothy was eyeing the remaining soda, but with one of his hands still held captive he wasn’t like he could snag it. Not that he’d get away with it. With Jack’s caffeine withdrawal still strong he suspected he’d lose a whole hand if he tried to so much as sip from that extra can.
“Yeah yeah, fine fine print.” It was satisfying to watch his blood mar the perfect outfit, but his fun was quickly squashed as his hand returned to that mouth. It wasn’t meant for pain this time, but his other hand jerked back to grip Jack’s shoulder as he stood up again, making a small noise in the back of his throat.
“Me bite you?” The doppelgänger asked nervously. He tried to chuckle, to distract himself from the fact that Jack was once again violating his hand. Maybe the key would be embracing his role, but the way his heart had jumped couldn’t just be willed away.
Still better than being bitten.
His head dropped and he grinned. “Pretty sure I don’t bite as hard as you. I leave marks, but I’ve never broken skin.”
Jack tilts his head back, looking up at his double. He hums thoughtfully, licking the copper taste from his teeth and washing it down with another swig of his drink. He thumbs at the condensation dripping from the can in silence for a few moments and wills his headache to go away faster. Although, Tim’s small but obvious panic at his ministrations has his smirking like a cat that got the freakin’ cream.
“I dunno, I’m sure you’ve got some bite to ya’. We just gotta–” He moves his grip to the meaty part of the double’s hand, spreading his fingers out with his own. “bring it outta’ you.” He slips the first finger of Tim’s hand into his mouth, teeth scraping the skin as he swirls his tongue around the nail. There may not have actually been any blood to clean on that particular spot of his hand, but Jack was content and suddenly in the mood to spoil the kid. His own little reward for being a good boy.
Jack’s grin is nothing but teeth as he wiggles his fingers in his double’s direction, closing in on his prey.
“Oh, c’mon, kiddo. C’mere for a sec– just a sec !!” Nisha had let it slip that little Timmy was ticklish, and Jack had a hankering to see just how hard he could make him squeal.
He lunges at Tim, who ducks away from him with a yelp. Jack flexes his jaw and grabs for the other’s collar but his double is quicker, staying just out of reach.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, idiot– seriously, come here.” He motions both index fingers for Tim to get his ass over here already, slowly stalking towards him like he was some kind of wild animal. He’s a man who’s goddamned determined.
realнero: it’s hard to write a report when I am a planet away sir
~HJack69~: well whose fault is that
~HJack69~: oh wait yeah probably mine
~HJack69~: well hurry up and get your sweet ass back here !!
~HJack69~: i need you to make me coffee the interns keep making this black sludge it’s h o r r i b l e
realнero: I left them instructions they should have been able to get that right
realнero: are you really going to die without coffee for a few hours?
~HJack69~: i might do !! what d’you know
~HJack69~: nevermind i found the booze stash
~HJack69~: goodbye timmy boy i knew thee well