Chapter Text
Unpacking their shared life is a bit of a chore. It’s been two weeks since they moved into the new flat together and there are still a dozen cardboard boxes piled in the spare bedroom. When Martin moved after the whole Prentiss thing he got sorted much quicker than this, but that was only his stuff and a one bedroom studio to another one bedroom studio.
Suffice to say the problem is Jon owns things. Lots of things.
The essentials are unpacked - the pans are in the kitchen, the medicine cabinet is stocked about as well as your average emergency room, the wardrobe has been split down the middle and filled with clothes. But there’s still boxes of books, and window ornaments, and strange gadgets given as Christmas presents three years ago that have never been used to be sorted and put away. There’s also a large collection of vinyls, but Martin has not yet found any evidence of Jon owning a record player.
It needs dealing with, so Martin has decided he will empty at least three of these boxes today. The first couple are easy - all books far too boring to ever really capture his attention. But they’ve been packed in near alphabetical order and that makes it very easy to arrange them on the shelves. He’s worked in the Archives, and before that the Library, for so long that an unorganised shelf of books makes his eyes hurt. Martin suspects he could recite parts of the Dewey decimal system in his sleep.
The third box Martin opens is smaller and does not contain books. On top is a tangle of black straps. Below that is a small collection of dildos.
“Jon,” he calls out into the hallway, “is this what I think it is?”
“I don’t know,” Martin can hear Jon walking towards him from the living room, “what do you think it is?”
“Well, it looks like a strap on!” Martin lifts it out of the box. There’s a small pink dick attached to it which wobbles comically. It isn’t anything approaching a natural skin tone, but it’s realistic aside from that fact. He turns it round and it points accusingly at Jon as he appears in the doorway.
Martin manages to get the harnesses straps untangled enough that he could try to put it on if the straps weren’t adjusted for (presumably) Jon’s much smaller frame. He holds it in front of his hips and does a silly little shimmy which makes the dildo bob up and down.
“That would be because it is a strap on.” Jon says, his face going steadily red.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had this?” Martin asks. “Was it for a one time thing or…”
There’s half a dozen dildos in the box. Martin’s not sure all of them are compatible with the harness, but it still doesn’t speak of Jon having an experiment with a strap on and deciding never to repeat it.
“I’ve had it since before I met you. All our other toys are things we got together. They’re ours, while this feels more like it’s mine.” Jon takes a deep breath. “It wasn’t a one time thing though, and I wouldn’t have kept it if I thought I’d never use it again. I wasn’t sure if it was something you would be interested in.”
Jon walks over and takes the harness from Martin. Martin lets him have it. He wants to see Jon put it on. He wants Jon to push him to his knees and fuck him with it.
“I’ve said before that I’m interested in bottoming. Specifically for anal sex.” Martin says. “With you, that is. If you’re interested in putting that on and using it with me.”
God he hopes Jon is interested. It’s been too long since someone has fucked Martin up the arse nice and hard. It’s all very nice watching Jon come apart beneath him in bed, but sometimes Martin likes to be the one wrecked instead. And he does know how to beg very prettily too. It would be a pity if Jon were immune to that.
“I could be persuaded.” Jon says with humour. “You’ve been very dominant in our sex life so far but I could give it a go.”
“It’s something that, um, works for you, then?”
“I don’t get much out of it sexually speaking, but I’d do it for you.”
“If you’re not into it, we don’t have to do it.” Martin says, although he’s a little disappointed about the fact it doesn’t look like Jon will be nailing him to the mattress any time soon.
“I don’t mind fucking you silly and not getting off myself.” Jon says. “How many times do I have to tell you I like making you feel good. I still get gratification from it, even if it isn’t sexual.”
Jon reaches out and strokes down Martin’s cheek lightly. He smiles and stares deeply into Martin’s eyes. It’s not an eyefucking or anything (Jon doesn’t really do those), just a tender moment.
“At least once more.” Martin says. “I just don’t ever want to feel like I’m forcing you to do something that you don’t want to do.
“That’s what we have safe words for. I also have no problem holding an erection when it’s made out of silicone. It’s not going to hurt me like having someone inside me when I’m not aroused.” Jon says. “My libido might not always match up to yours, but I do have a vested interest in keeping yours satisfied.”
“So you’ll do this for me?” Martin says, and Jon returns his smile.
“Yes Martin, I will lovingly rail you.” Jon says. “Right now if you want me to.”
“I think we both know that anal and spontaneity aren’t things that go together.”
“The day is still young.” Jon says, and he reaches up to kiss Martin lightly. “This evening, maybe?”
Martin wants to pull Jon back to him, gather him in and kiss him deeply with a dozen inferred promises. Have Jon push him down onto his back and take him right here, right now, carpet burn be damned. It’s a pity the real world doesn’t work the way you want all the time.
“That sounds good. It will give me time to ah - prepare.” Martin says.
“And I’ll have time to wash my dicks.”
“Building a collection are you?” Martin peers down at the prosthetics in the box.
“Benefits of having a trans boyfriend - you get to pick which dick he fucks you with.” Jon says. “Although not that one.”
Jon picks up one of the smaller realistic-looking cocks in the box. It’s a short floppy thing a few shades of brown lighter than Jon’s skin. It lolls in his hand.
“Anything wrong with that one?” Martin asks.
“It’s a packer, not a dildo. It’s not made for penetration.” He shakes the thing and the cock wobbles back and forth, clearly limp.
“What’s it for then? If you can’t use it for sex.” Martin asks.
“Aesthetics, most. It makes a bulge so that- do you want me to just show you?” Jon asks.
“Sure.”
Jon hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his tracksuit bottoms and pulls them down to his knees. Underneath are grey briefs and he shoves the prosthetic penis down the front of them. It leaves a bulge in the front of his pants, almost comically large like he’s sporting a semi the way the shaft lies over the balls, until Jon shifts it to the side and now it looks like he’s just very well-endowed.
“I don’t tend to bother to pack unless it’s really obvious I don’t have a dick in the clothes I’m wearing. When I do bother with it, I tend to go for a rolled-up sock. This thing always seems so big to me. I don’t really intend to enter rooms crotch first. And this one is only a medium.”
It isn’t that big, Martin considers. But he’s also used to having something dangling between his legs and Jon isn’t.
“It’s… pretty convincing.” Martin goes for. The outline it makes is correct, and if he didn’t know that Jon was trans and hadn’t just seen him slip the packer into his underwear, he couldn’t tell the difference.
“It feels right, too,” Jon says, “if you want to touch.”
Martin reaches down and puts his hand on the bulge in the front of Jon’s pants. He gives it a quick squeeze and it feels convincing enough, at least if not given close scrutiny. Then he’s just standing there feeling up his boyfriend’s prosthetic dick in the middle of the spare room. It’s a bit strange to be handling Jon’s junk for non-sexual reasons.
“It feels pretty real, but I think this has gone beyond awkward now.” Martin says.
Jon laughs, but he pulls his trousers back up once Martin’s hand is out of the way. The lump is a lot subtler then, once there’s an extra layer of baggy fabric to obscure it. It would be a little more obvious in something tight like skinny jeans, but Martin’s never seen Jon wear skinny jeans a day in his life.
“I do believe you have a box of dicks for me to take?” Jon says, and Martin hands them over.
Jon walks out of the room humming, with a cardboard box of dildos under his arm. A little dumbfounded, Martin finds another box to unpack. Thankfully, this one, once again, is full of dusty books.