Talking It Out

by R. J. Moray

  Ah! God, this thing again. Jack was always wanting more of his fingers in Channon, and Channon was shy of it. Jack’s hands were big. Three fingers, sure. Four were a lot. Jack’s whole hand?

  If he’d thought his face was hot before he’d been wrong—now he burned like a furnace, squirming with embarrassment. “Sir,” he whined. “Sir…”

  “Mmm? You don’t like the sound of that?”

  “I thought you wanted to make a baby, Sir,” Channon said, meaning it to tease, but Jack tensed for a moment, and when he chuckled it seemed…weird.

  “Sure, let’s do that. If it doesn’t work the first time I’ll keep trying until it does.”

  He tucked Channon under his arm as the elevator doors opened, pulled him into their condo, and pushed Channon up against the wall again, but his eyes were shadowed, and for once Channon thought…he didn’t know. Something was off.

  “Sir?”

  Jack glanced up, but his eyes flickered away almost at once, and Channon saw it again. Something new. Something…different.

  Jack looked embarrassed. No, not quite. Secretive, maybe. And maybe Channon had seen this in him before but he hadn’t known Jack so well back then, couldn’t tell when he was hiding something.

  “Sir?” Channon ran the back of his hand up Jack’s chest. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Jack said, and he was telling the truth, Channon thought, but there was something else he wasn’t telling.

  Channon tipped his hand over, flattening his palm on Jack’s sternum. “What is it?” He had to swallow before he could ask. “Is it the baby thing? Did I mess everything up?”

  “No, sweetheart,” Jack reassured him, and he kissed Channon’s cheek, working his hands in under Channon’s shirt to stroke his skin. “You didn’t mess up anything.”

  “But you hate the baby thing,” Channon said, guessing.

  Something in the way Jack shook his head—there. Embarrassment. Or something else.

  “Or you…like the baby thing.”

  Jack laughed but it came off as weak. He shook his head again, pulling Channon’s shirt up over his head. “It’s not a thing.”

  “Isn’t it?” Channon leaned back against the wall, and pulled his lower lip between his teeth. He looked up at Jack through his eyelashes and brought his hands up to Jack’s belt, easing his fingers into the loop of it. “You don’t want to?”

  “Have a baby? One day, maybe,” Jack said, as if they were really talking about it for real.

  “No, I mean.” God, he felt bold just saying it. Suggesting it to Jack like something they could actually do. “Like pretend.”

  Jack stared at him, wide eyed for a moment. “You want to roleplay?” He sounded shocked, but then his expression softened. He moved in, bracketing Channon against the wall. “Oh, baby, do you want me to knock you up?”

  “Yeah,” Channon said, his face hot. He was acutely aware of Jack’s size, of how intimidatingly big he was, how Channon was at his mercy. And now, how excited Jack was. Channon caught Jack’s tie in one hand, wrapping it around his fingers. “I want it. Please?”

  Jack groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck. How the fuck…yes. I’m going to take you to bed and mate with you.”

  The rush of heat nearly knocked Channon off his feet. Mate. It sounded so animalistic. Primal, Channon thought, like Jack was a predator and Channon was his prey.

  The thought made him giddy. “Sir,” he moaned.

  Jack kissed him hard, sucking on his lip and denting him with his teeth, and then he bit Channon’s jaw, his throat, each press of his teeth squeezing a whimper from Channon’s throat. Jack’s hands roamed over his back, down to grope his ass, hauling Channon against him and pinning him to the wall with his weight. Channon felt assailed, as if Jack was tearing through his defenses like so much wet paper. But then, Channon had no defenses against Jack, anyway.

  The pressure of Jack’s teeth, the hot wet suck of his mouth as he marked Channon up, burnt a trail in Channon’s skin from throat to collarbone, and then down his chest, latching onto a nipple and sucking hard. Channon could do nothing except try to keep up as Jack dragged him away from the wall and up against the back of the sofa. Jack hoisted him up, encouraging Channon’s legs around his waist and Channon clung to him, struck by how strong Jack was, how easily he carried Channon up the stairs to the bedroom—their bedroom, theirs together—and tossed him on the bed. Channon gasped, trying to catch his breath, and Jack grinned at him, smoothly unbuttoning his shirt, unbuckling his belt and stripping himself to his skin with quick, efficient motions of his hands. He didn’t fold anything or hang anything, just dropped it on the floor as if he had no patience left, his cock hanging heavy and dark at his crotch, already thickening. Channon felt conquered, as if Jack had won him like a prize, and Jack climbed up to kneel between his thighs.

  He grinned, sharp and predatory. “Baby,” he said, catching one of Channon’s ankles in one hand and pulling his shoelace loose with the other. God, Channon still had his shoes on. It felt incredibly wrong to do so. But Jack just tossed the shoe on the floor and reached for the other. “You look good enough to eat,” he said.

  Channon laughed, high and weak, unable to do anything else.

  “You’d look even better with my baby inside you,” Jack growled, and Channon’s pulse went through the roof.

  Holy shit, that was…he didn’t know what he was supposed to think, but he felt hot all over, his skin tight and tender. Jack bent down to lick his nipple and Channon just about bucked up off the bed.

  “Oh, you like that,” Jack drawled. “Yeah, you fucking love it. Tell me.”

  Why was that hot? Channon didn’t know. “I…”

  “Tell me you want me to put a baby in you,” Jack said, low down and serious, and the intensity in his face ratcheted Channon’s nerves tight.

  Channon licked his lips, the words faltering on his tongue.

  “Don’t you want it?” Jack planted his hands on the bed, bent over him to nuzzle his chest and then nosed down his belly, nipping at his skin as he went. “This was your idea. My baby, growing in you. Our baby.” He caught his teeth in the rim of Channon’s navel and tugged. “You’d waddle around with this huge belly and I’d want to fuck you every time I saw you.” He licked Channon’s abs and then down, and Channon sucked in a breath as Jack nuzzled his cock through his pants. “Is that what you want, sweetheart? To carry my baby? Be the mother of my child?”

  “Mother?” Yeah, no. “I’m not a girl,” Channon protested, and Jack chuckled.

  “No, you’re not. You’re my beautiful, perfect boy. And you’d do it if I told you to, wouldn’t you?”

  What a fucking question. And just the thought of it made Channon feel hot and achy, made his chest hurt, and his dick throb.

  “Yes,” Channon whispered.

  “What was that?”

  “Yes, Sir,” he tried again, and then Jack had Channon’s zipper down and was sliding his pants over his hips. Channon sucked in a shaky breath, thinking about it. It was strange. He felt wired, like his skin was electrified, like when Jack said these things to him it sparked something in his blood, making his nerves fire hot. “Do you mean it, Sir?” Channon asked, his throat dry.

  “Mean what?” Jack’s breath ghosted over Channon’s cock, shivering his skin.

  “That you want…if you could, that you’d do it.”

  Jack chuckled and licked him, hot and wet all the way up Channon’s length. “That I’d do what, Channon?”

  Channon breathed in, out, clenching his hands in the covers. “Get me pregnant, Sir.”

  “Mmmm, yeah.” Jack kissed the tip of his dick, licked it hungrily. “I’d fuck a baby into you. Would you like that?”

  God, would he? It was like fire and ice under his skin, a confusing mess of feelings. But they were just playing, just teasing. It was safe to pretend because Jack couldn’t actually do it, and Channon…

  Wanted it. Wanted it now.

  “Yes, Sir.
Please.”

  Jack made a pleased sound and knelt up on the bed. He yanked Channon’s pants down the rest of the way, tossing them on the floor without looking. “Yeah? You want me to rut you?”

  Channon nodded, his cheeks hot. But Jack needed more, he always did.

  “Want me to take you like a bitch in heat?” Jack said, his voice a low rumble as he leaned over Channon, bracing himself as he reached for the lube. “Get my dick in you and come in you and keep fucking you until you’re swelling up with my babies. Yeah?”

  Channon had to swallow before he could speak. “Babies?” More than one?

  “Mmm-hmm. If I fuck you hard enough, do you think I could get twins in you?”

  “That’s not how that works,” Channon protested.

  “What if it was?” Jack asked, slipping a slick hand between Channon’s thighs. “What if that was exactly how that worked?”

  Channon lifted his hips, felt the slippery intrusion of a finger inside him. He caught his breath, his head spinning. God, what were they doing? Why was it turning him on like this?

  Fuck, he wanted it. Right now this was exactly what he wanted. “I want it,” Channon said, mumbling the words. “I…please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Please fuck me, Sir,” Channon gasped, that one finger joined by a second, a third probing his rim. “Make me your bitch.”

  Jack laughed, and it was unlike his usual laugh, a little too reckless, a little too wild. His eyes in the dim bedroom lamplight glittered, dark and wicked. “Oh, baby. I’m going to mount you. I’m going to breed you.” He kissed Channon’s mouth, tender as he so tenderly fingered Channon open. “You’re going to take it so beautifully, as always, my beautiful, perfect boy.”

  Something shifted in Channon’s head, some final barrier breaching as easily as Jack breached his body, and then he moaned because…fuck, he wanted this. “Sir,” he begged, curling up off the bed. He needed Jack inside him now. “Please, please, I need it.”

  “Need what, sweetheart?” Jack crooned, crooking his fingers to tease Channon inside. “Need me to mount you?” Jack asked gently, and Channon nodded, unable to say it. Jack hummed with satisfaction as his fingers worked. Three fingers, and then the pressure of a fourth and Channon whimpered in protest.

  “No?” Jack kissed Channon’s belly, his stubble scouring Channon’s sensitive flesh. “Just my cock, baby?”

  Channon nodded, unable to speak. Jack pressed his cock up thick and hot against Channon’s hole, and pushed.

  God, he felt so good going in. Channon’s body had grown so used to this, welcomed it like he was welcoming Jack home inside him. Now Jack thrust in deep and Channon took him in, and thought about Jack’s cock, and Jack’s come, and he moaned, his body closing around Jack, clutching at him needily.

  “That’s it,” Jack murmured, the softness of his tone at odds with the firm grip he had on Channon’s hip. “I’m so fucking hard. It’s been days,” he added, his voice sinking down into a low growl. “Think how much come I’ve got for you now. I can’t wait to fill you with it.”

  Channon just whimpered, balling the covers up in his fists. Jack fucked into him with hard, deep strokes, rocking him on the bed, and Channon felt it in his ass, his thighs, his crotch, his belly, building this delicious tension that threatened to break him.

  “Sir,” he gasped. Too soon, too soon, Jack would be disappointed. “I’ll come, I—”

  “Not yet.” Jack shifted, taking the pressure off, and the bone-rattling pleasure of it died down to a dull, wonderful ache. Jack kissed his chest. “There. Just hold on. I’m going to fill you up and then I wanna feel you come on my cock. Can you do that for me?”

  Channon had to swallow, his eyes wrenched shut. “Yes, Sir,” he said.

  “Good boy.”

  But it was hard. Jack felt so good in him, and he kept saying things. Little things, like, “You’re so wet, baby,” or, “God, I love fucking you,” and bigger, crazier things, like, “I’m going to put a baby in you, knock you up hard,” and, “I can’t wait to see you filled.” It shouldn’t have been hot, it should have been weird, but when Jack slid his hand over Channon’s belly and murmured, “You’ll get so big, sweetheart,” Channon felt it shudder in him, his body clenching on Jack’s cock. Jack cupped his pec, rolling Channon’s nipple between his forefinger and thumb, and said, “Your nipples are going to be so tender.”

  “Ah!” It was too much. Channon clawed at Jack’s ribs, willing Jack to fuck him hard, harder, God, anything but string this out any longer. “Please!”

  “Yeah?” Jack rocked into him, deep and close, their bodies locked together. “Like that?”

  “More,” Channon begged.

  Jack chuckled, and it made Channon so mad, so needy. The words just spilled out of him before he could stop them.

  “Daddy, please!”

  For a second he didn’t understand what he’d just said. And then Jack’s expression rippled, shifting into something sharp and savage.

  “Baby,” Jack growled, fucking into him hard. One of Jack’s hands clamped onto Channon’s shoulder, holding him in place, the other under his thigh, and Jack thrust in so deep Channon swore he could feel it in his throat. Channon clutched at him, mortification and arousal warring in his chest, but fuck, he couldn’t be anything except turned on by the way Jack pounded him, the wild look on his face as he broke, cried out, the ragged stutter of his hips as he filled Channon with come.

  Jack caught himself on one hand, wrapped the other around Channon’s cock. “Channon,” he gasped, “come on,” and Channon arched up into his hand, pleasure spiraling through him in deep, body-wracking throbs. He came like that, skewered on Jack’s cock with Jack’s hand working him over, Jack’s mouth on his throat, his name on Jack’s tongue.

  It was intense. He didn’t want to come down from the rush of it, wanted to float up there in the pink fog of post-orgasmic bliss forever with Jack’s weight on him, Jack still inside him, and not have to think about what had just happened.

  It was nothing. It meant nothing. He didn’t want it to mean anything. He just—

  “Sweetheart?” Jack kissed his cheek, breath tagged on his skin. “You okay?”

  Like there was any reason to ask that. They hadn’t even done anything that could need it. Channon opened his eyes. “Yeah.” But when he looked up there was a crease between Jack’s brows, tension in the corners of his mouth that Channon didn’t want there.

  He ran a finger under Jack’s eye, noting the crinkles in the corner of it. He looked worried.

  “Are you okay?” Channon asked.

  Jack smiled a little. “Yeah.” He pulled out carefully, and then instead of reaching for a towel or a wet wipe, he flopped onto his back, breathing out a lungful of air. “That was…interesting.”

  Channon didn’t know if it was supposed to be a joke. “Uh-huh.”

  “Sorry if it got weird,” Jack said, his voice strange, sort of…helpless.

  Channon stared at him, pushing himself up on his elbows to stare at him better. “Um…what?”

  “The baby thing.”

  Which, Channon noted, meant that there really was a baby thing. But. “All the stuff we’ve done, and that was the weird bit?”

  Jack chuckled, his eyes cutting up to meet Channon’s. “Point taken. But…Channon, I meant what I said before, at Diana’s. I don’t want to get anyone pregnant.” He reached for Channon’s hand. “Unless it’s you.”

  Channon’s heart was still slowing—now it jumped again, thudding at him relentlessly. “Tig said you’d invest in illegal cloning technology before you’d hook up with a woman.”

  “I like Tig,” Jack said thoughtfully. “I should send him a gift basket.”

  “Don’t give him ideas,” Channon groaned. He rolled over to plaster his sweaty, sticky body up against Jack’s naked skin. “Um. It was a bit weird. But not bad weird. I don’t mind. I kind of…liked it.”

  “Yeah, you looked like you liked it.”


  Then why are you being like this about it now? Channon wanted to ask.

  Jack must have been able to read it on his face. “It’s just a kink I didn’t know I had.” He wrapped an arm around Channon, holding him close. “I thought I was too old for new kinks. I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

  “You’ve never done that before?”

  “Never. I mean, I’ve thought about it. I figured it was just cobwebs hanging around from when I thought I was straight.” He sighed heavily. “I guess not.”

  “Pregnancy kink,” Channon said slowly.

  Jack wrinkled his nose. “Mmmm.”

  “You said it wasn’t weird if I liked things,” Channon argued. “You said nothing I liked made me bad. Just kinky.”

  “That’s true.” Jack kissed his hair. “Did you want to talk about what you said there, at the end?”

  Channon tensed. “No?” he said, wishing Jack would leave it alone.

  “Because you’re not sure how you feel about it?”

  Oh. “Yeah. I mean…I don’t know why I said it. It just slipped out.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “I don’t know.” Channon made himself think about it. “I feel weird about it now.”

  Jack hummed, stroking his back. “Understandable.”

  “You liked it, though.”

  “I liked how shocked you looked,” Jack said with a chuckle. “God, that was beautiful. Horrified and aroused.” He took a deep breath and let it go. “But you don’t have to do it ever again if you don’t want to. I don’t need that from you.”

  “Are you mad?”

  “Do I ever get mad at you?” Jack asked, but Channon could tell it was rhetorical. Jack tucked his fingers under Channon’s chin and tilted him up to kiss his mouth, very tenderly. “I love you, sweetheart. I don’t need anyone else. Just you. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes,” Channon said, because he thought he did, finally, understand. “I don’t need anyone but you, either.”

  “But you like it when I let other people fuck you,” Jack said, arching an eyebrow at him.

  It was hard to explain. Channon didn’t want Jack to think he needed that, so he said, “Only if you like it.”