thethespacecoyote:

The moment Jack discovered Rhys was ticklish he knew he’d never let his boyfriend live it down.

It’d happened a few times while they were touching or cuddling—Jack would trail his finger down Rhys’ thigh or kiss under his neck and squeeze a little titter out of him. It amused him just as much as it annoyed Rhys, and doing it on purpose was a one-way ticket to the couch for the evening. Not that Jack let that stop him. In fact, he’d kept on wondering exactly how ticklish Rhys was, and how many frustrated giggles he could wring out of him if he poked and prodded the right spots.

One morning Jack decided to take things to the next level. He padded quietly into the kitchen, spying where Rhys stood in front of the toaster waiting for his bagel to pop up. He was distracted, picking at his nails. Jack grinned as he prowled up behind him, shooting his hands up and underneath Rhys’ sleep shirt.

Rhys instantly squealed, his entire body hunching over as Jack mercilessly tickled his middle. Yup. Definitely the spot. Jack snickered as Rhys squirmed and flailed wildly about, whacking Jack’s hands and begging him to stop in between breathless pants.

“J-Jack, I—I mean it, don’t—!” Rhys wailed, but the CEO wasn’t through yet, he wanted to figure out where else his boyfriend was ticklish. He clamped one arm around Rhys’ waist, the hand of the other moving down towards his thighs to test those out, only to stop when it got to the young man’s groin.

Rhys bit his lip and shut his eyes tight, cheeks bright red. Jack had figured that’d been because of the tickling, but as his palm pressed against the bulge in Rhys’ shorts he realized there was something more.

“Pumpkin.” Disbelief lifted Jack’s tone. “Are you…are you hard?”

An annoyed whine slipped between Rhys’ lips.

“You didn’t…I didn’t want you to tickle me…” He frowned, trying to wriggle out of Jack’s arms but the older man held him close, hand now squeezing with interest over Rhys’ crotch.

“Hoo boy. Didn’t think that would happen,” Jack snickered, starting to massage Rhys’ cock. “You hiding any more freaky little kinks in there, sugar?”

When Rhys didn’t reply Jack trailed a delicate circle in Rhys’ stomach that earned him a shiver. The hand holding his cock moved just as slowly and softly, teasing Rhys’ accidental arousal.

“Guess I’ll just have to see how many I can wring outta you.”

thethespacecoyote:

Much to his frustration, Rhys’ new suppressors were wreaking a bit of havoc on his body.

The extra sensitivity he could deal with. Same with the increased appetite. He hoped they’d both even out within a few weeks as his system adjusted to the new drug, but he could at least cope with it for the time being.

But his chest was embarrassing the fuck out of him and he could not deal.

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thethespacecoyote:

“Ugh,” Rhys moaned as he flopped down on the couch and planted his face into a pillow. His entire upper body smarted, like it did sometimes when he exerted his cybernetic arm too much. He didn’t remember doing too much physical today, but regardless, his muscles ached.

Thankfully, Jack was there to lend a helping hand.

“Just lie back, sugar. Daddy’s gonna take care of you.” Jack straddled him from behind, rolling the hem of Rhys’ undershirt up until it exposed most of his back. The young man hummed, turning his head to the side to look up at Jack as broad hands, slicked with scented oil, started to work into his tightened muscles.

“Oh…oh man, yes. That’s it…” Rhys moaned, body and eyes feeling heavy and relaxed as Jack rubbed and kneaded his back. He never knew his boyfriend to be so skilled with his hands, but oh he was just melting into this. A pleased smile spread over his lips as the smell of lavender and rosemary filled his nose. Jack’s fingers worked into the tense tissue, massaging it out until he lay so loose and lazy on the couch that he barely reacted when Jack’s hands started to move a little bit lower.

Rhys let out a small, interested moan when Jack’s oily digits started to peel back the waistband of his boxers. He wiggled languidly against the couch, holding his pillow to his face as Jack’s hands cupped his ass and started to gently stroke against the skin.

“Mmm…not sore down there…” Rhys murmured, against the fabric of his pillow. Through a half-closed eye he could see Jack over his shoulder, smiling sleepily at the lustful look on his boyfriend’s face.

“Well, not yet, pumpkin.” Jack winked, giving Rhys’ ass a firm rub.

“Don’t be too rough…” The young man mumbled after a moment, honestly just relaxed into the smell of the aromatic oils and the pressure of Jack’s hands. Still, pleasured feelings warmed in his groin as Jack caressed his ass, slipping a finger in between his cheeks to brush oil up against his hole. Rhys twitched, hips lazily rising up from the couch to meet his boyfriend’s palms.

“Oh, I’ll be delicate as a flower, sweetheart. Don’t you fret,” Jack whispered, fingertips stroking over Rhys’ entrance as he left more skin burnished with oil. “Just relax and look pretty, and daddy will take care of everything else for you.”

thethespacecoyote:

Of course Rhys would screw up his first night on the job.

All he had to do was serve the drinks the bartender finished to the proper clients. Remembering what went where and to who wasn’t the hard part, but apparently keeping balance on his new pair of high-heeled work boots was too much of a task for him. So just as he ambled to the booth of well-dressed businessmen who’d ordered a round of the club’s signature cocktails one heel jiggled and slipped out from underneath him, causing the drinks to fly through the air and douse both Rhys and the man sitting closest to him.

Rhys gasped as the liquor soaked his clothes and dripped onto the floor. He nearly slipped again as he struggled to both keep his balance and figure out what to say to the man who’s fancy suit he’d just splashed. He clapped his hands over his mouth, mumbling out apologies as intense eyes fell over him. The rest of the man’s party fell silent, lips slightly parted, watching the both of them intently as if they expected their companion to blow up.

But the man only smiled as he lifted a hand to his nose and sniffed it.

“You know, I was really looking forward to trying out this cocktail, pumpkin.” He slid around in the booth until he faced Rhys, legs parted and elbow leaned on the table. Rhys swallowed, feeling the eyes of the patrons of the other tables on him as they started to whisper and gossip. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from this man and the way he appraised Rhys with sharp eyes. He couldn’t even bring himself to try to apologize, his voice locked on a stutter.

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