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Possessive Streak

Summary:

The light in Jean's eyes was familiar this time, and growing more so by the day. Jeremy had been right on the mark with his initial assessment of satisfaction and pride; But if what he saw in Jean stroking over the detail of a brand-new motorbike was hunger? Then the expression faced towards him now was that of a starved man in front of a feast he had zero intentions of sharing. And God, did it look good on him.

Or- Jean is finally allowed to own things, and it's no secret that he's relishing in it. Jeremy happily considers himself one of those things, and indulging his boyfriend's possessive streak gets him railed on Jean's new bike, wearing nothing but Jean's new leather jacket, and professing exactly who he belongs to over and over.

Notes:

I'm here to push my agenda of Jean reclaiming the name Jean-Yves with his loved ones.
And also my agenda of Jean being really into getting Jeremy to swear during sex because it is EXCEEDINGLY rare and he might get one quiet "fuck" per fuck

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The light in Jean's eyes was familiar this time, and growing more so by the day. Jeremy had been right on the mark with his initial assessment of satisfaction and pride; But if what he saw in Jean stroking over the detail of a brand-new motorbike was hunger? Then the expression faced towards him now was that of a starved man in front of a feast he had zero intention of sharing. And God, did it look good on him.

Jeremy still had no idea what the finer details of the bike were, and he wasn't about to find out with his shoulders pressed into the handlebars and his back arching off the body. He didn't really need to know more than the hot leather plastered to his bare ass and the rich thrum ripping through his veins and ringing in his ears each time Jean revved the engine.

The Frenchman kept one hand on the throttle, the other wrapped tight around Jeremy's weeping cock and just holding him, unyielding with the tight grip and leaving him to throb against oiled leather. Even when Jeremy managed to jerk his hips towards or away from the grasp, it didn't give him any friction, only held his cock still and tugged against his body in a burst of decadent pain. 

"Stay still, Jérémie," Jean warned, briefly squeezing his fingers tighter around Jeremy's dick in emphasis, "let me take you there, I have you." He had his eyes locked onto where Jeremy kept twitching in his grasp, in the new leather gloves he'd had the audacity to bring Jeremy with him to buy– holding different shades of rich brown up to his eyes before breaking into an actual grin at a near perfect color match. He'd bought a jacket in the same shade and had indeed been wearing it on their ride earlier but had shucked it from his own shoulders after getting Jeremy completely nude, insisting it be the only thing Jeremy would wear for the next 'ride.'

It smelled absolutely divine around him now, Jean's cologne and the sweat of high-speed exhilaration sunbaked into the pungency of new leather. Jeremy was absolutely swimming in it, his lungs full of nothing else when he could get a full breath in; A task that was growing increasingly difficult with the girth of Jean's cock stretching him open and surely prodding his diaphragm with every thrust. The sheer size of his partner had Jeremy's muscles straining, thighs constantly in a tremble as he hooked one leg around his boyfriend's waist and planted the other foot on the garage wall for leverage. Not that any amount of leverage in the world would have stopped Jeremy's body from rocking up the bike when Jean's sturdy hips rolled into him, forcing his thighs further apart and pressing even more damn leather into his skin. While Jeremy had been stripped bare and wrapped in only his partner's riding jacket, Jean had kept on everything but his helmet:

A tight blue mock-neck deepened in color from sweat, Renee's silver cross dangling from a shiny new chain that swayed between their rocking bodies, the aforementioned leather gloves, and leather riding pants with the belt undone, fly pulled open, jammed down to free his cock just enough to fuck Jeremy senseless on it.

So carefully, Jean had draped him over the bike.
Splayed his legs open to settle between them.
Passed over a packet of lubricant burning hot from its time in his pocket on the ride.
Directed Jeremy to finger himself open on full display.
Whispered praises and endearments between sucking bruises into his collarbones.
Then finally placed Jeremy's hands on his shoulders with the strict instructions not to move them any lower.

It took everything for Jeremy not to cum on the spot and end it all far too soon when the engine had torn to life beneath them, when Jean revved it to roaring with each inch of his cock pushed into his partner– Slowly, so torturously slow, pressing the breath right out of Jeremy and leaving him desperate and already begging for more by the time Jean was fully sheathed inside. 

Apparently, all of Jean's restraint had been used up in the initial plunge, as he wasted no time in delivering all Jeremy had begged for and more with each pummel of hips. His lips, plumped and reddened, remained parted open and curled up with a wild thrill every time he could manage to stop kissing Jeremy enough to just stare at him in something close to wonder and disbelief. He leaned in to say something in French, words that may have just been another endearment but sounded mind-alteringly hot when groaned over the bawling engine.

"Oh– oh my God, Jean," Jeremy managed, the words pounded from him as each drag out felt like it took forever and each slam in had the velocity of a freight train behind it. Or rather, a very large backliner with the infallible stamina of a freight train. Jeremy knew his words might not have even been heard as his head dropped back over the front of the bike, bobbing up helplessly with each gulped inhale, but he continued regardless, "I-I didn't catch tha- ah!"

Jean pressed his body down on Jeremy's to get in closer, lips brushing just below his ear to repeat his words in English, voice low and raspy with pleasure as he didn't stop driving into the man beneath him, "I said that you purr even better than the bike."

The angle stuffed Jeremy even deeper than before, Jean's cock grinding against his prostate with every movement and making his voice crackle on a higher pitch he didn't have the wherewithal to be embarrassed of now, "ohh, y-yeah, baby? Am I a better ride, too?"

"Remains to be seen, I am not done with you yet," Jean teased in his usual deadpan, but the smirk on kiss-swollen lips and the flutter of stormy eyes crackling with lightning was enough that even Jeremy couldn't overthink it.

It actually startled a laugh out of him, a wheezy thing full of too many emotions to count, a fond warmth tickling between each thunder-crack of pleasure in a way Jeremy had never managed to feel before during sex. Giddy, was the only word he could think of to describe it, the way his cock felt heavy and his heart so light while the rest of the universe could be damned around them for all he cared.

"I don't ever want you to be done with me, oh God–!" Jeremy didn't have to exaggerate the moan that drowned out even the engine when Jean's gloved thumb pressed into the weeping slit of his dick, slicking shiny leather up enough to smooth a firm glide over his frenulum. His hips jerked, stuttering against his attempts to hold them back as Jean rubbed precum into the sensitive junction of nerves and traced the flared ridge of his tip with body-warmed leather. "Please, frick, Jean, that's so good, I– nggh," he warbled, cut off by his own moan when Jean's hand slotted up against the underside of his cock to pin it to his abdomen, the arc between his thumb and forefinger dragging up and pushing down on his length with a merciless and nearly too hard pressure to milk a small gush of precum right out of him. It was immediately swiped up from his abdomen and rubbed over his glans as he let out a string of faux curses, "oh holy shipwreck, Jean!"

"Your lips and tongue rewrite the definition of sin and yet you still refuse to spout the filth you can pull from me," Jean teased, and Jeremy silently seethed at his ability to sound poetic with it. It didn't seem fair that Jean could put butterflies in his stomach when he couldn't be sure where his stomach even was amidst the man rearranging his organs.

It was also bold of Jean to assume that Jeremy had any idea what was leaving his own mouth when he was so enamored with the aforementioned filth that left Jean's, scalding hot in his ear.

"You are fucking divine, Jeremy. Mon Jérémie, you could not have been tailored more perfectly for me," Jean praised, his face suddenly in sight again as his sweaty forehead pressed against Jeremy's and his lust-darkened eyes stared into everything he was, black curls curtaining over and blotting out the rest of the world.

"For you or just for your cock, big guy?" Jeremy asked, if only to see that newly insatiable hunger spark again in his partner's already ravenous expression. He couldn't have said which answer he would prefer, but the correct one was given regardless.

"Yes, both, yes," Jean insisted, and thrust himself as deeply into Jeremy as he could manage before sealing their lips with an unfairly gentle kiss. He kept pushing further, his pelvis a bruising force on Jeremy's ass as he ground his dick as far in as possible and refused to back away even a millimeter. When that wasn't enough, he tugged at Jeremy's cock, using it to manhandle him down even further and hold him in place, everything about the position stretching and filling Jeremy to the limit of what his body could take. Jean didn't even part their lips to speak again, professing it all directly into Jeremy's mouth while they both shook from the strain of friction welding together, "you are for me, for all of me and me only, mon amour... Nothing could take me as well as you do, nothing and no one will have you as I have you."

No amount of thought could have helped Jeremy find proper words to respond with, but his currently available brain power left even the clumsiest of attempts out of the question. He could hardly breathe, every gasp nothing but the humidity of Jean's affections and his lungs unable to expand with Jean blanketing him entirely– his body, heart, and mind too full of Jean for anything other than bliss to seep into the cracks. His cock throbbed almost painfully, aching for friction and getting nothing but the tug of hot pressure. His gut coiled tight anyway, his muscles tensed to creaking, and he struggled to keep his head above the rising surface of his molten nerves. He wasn't even close yet, just trapped in the heat of a moment he needed to last forever as desperately as he needed it to crash and burn into release before it drove him insane. "Jean, Jean, please, I need you," he eventually managed to say, no longer able to distinguish if the vibration of his body was from the bike or his own muscles trying to cope, "please, I'm all yours, as long as you'll have me, please!"

The pleas were enough to break Jean from his spell, or at least put him under a new one, as he open-mouth kissed down to Jeremy's jaw and finally drew his hips back at a snail's pace, just to snap forward with a slap of leather on flesh that rocked Jeremy's body an inch up the bike. His hand left Jeremy's cock so he could curl his arm around the man's waist, pulling him back down and keeping him steady enough to fuck into with renewed vigor. "I have you, I have you and I will not let go," Jean promised, revving the motorcycle thrice more in time with brutal thrusts that had Jeremy whimpering out and arching up, "say it again, mon Jérémie, say you are mine."

Jeremy managed to lift his head enough to look down between their bodies, to see where Jean's still-clothed abdomen sealed against his own and trapped his unbelievably hard cock between them, slotted in the divots between muscle, wet with sweat and precum that darkened the fabric of Jean's shirt and made every heavy grind toe-curlingly intense. "Ah, ah, I'm yours, I'm yours! Y-you make me feel so good, Jean, so good, I–"

"Say my name," Jean demanded. He tightened his arm around Jeremy's waist, muscles bulging with how hard he pulled them together and making his partner's vertebrae pop, "say exactly who you belong to."

As if Jeremy had ever stopped? A short laugh escaped him at the request, or maybe it was more of a huff through the dizzy smile that made his cheeks ache. Regardless, he was thrilled to obey, letting Jean's name spill from his lips on every exhale, "Jean! Jean, baby, Jean–"

The revving engine growled overtop the obscene choir of heavy breaths and leather slapping lubed up skin, like a loud incorrect buzzer. "My name, Jeremy," Jean insisted, a waver in his voice betraying his desperation for it, "I want to hear it from you, say my name."

"Oh!" Jeremy gasped out in realization, "oh, Jean-Yves!" His entire body shuddered, pulsing through a surge of heat as Jean's cock jerked inside him with a stutter in his rhythm. Nailed it.

Jean nodded, a soft and uncharacteristically open noise of pleasure leaving his lips as he couldn't find his pace again, choosing instead to pull out enough to angle his hips for grinding the head of his cock into Jeremy's prostate, "ahh, again, Jérémie, mon chaton, say it again!"

The only thing stopping Jeremy from screaming it on a loop was the whine that clogged his throat, high and broken as jolts of pleasure rocked up his spine with the brutally targeted stimulation. His vision started to blur from the intensity of it, his hands scrabbling to cup Jean's jaw as a way to ground himself amidst his insides turning to mush and dribbling out through his cock, "Jean-Yves, oh! Oh, Jean-Yves, mon cœur, m'yours, all yours, h-how do I say it in French? Please!"

"Putain de merde," Jean cursed, and despite knowing their meaning, the words sounded far more like awe-stricken praise to Jeremy. Jean slipped his arm back out from under Jeremy's waist, putting distance between them only to brace a hand on Jeremy's bare abdomen and hold him down, knowing the man would squirm as he switched his grinding into hard, shallow ruts. Jean could clearly tell that Jeremy was nearing the end of his rope, and was determined to fray that rope entirely, pushing on his partner's tensed abdomen and not letting him rock into each plunge aimed precisely at his sweet spot. That cloud of voracity cast over Jean's eyes again, far darker than lust and too intense to be less than rapture. His voice was strained but loud as he instructed Jeremy through the desired phrase, "Je suis à toi, I am yours. Say 'je suis à toi, Jean-Yves!' "

Once Jeremy could shake his brain into functioning again, he did exactly that, repeating the vow again and again, "Je suis à toi, Jean-Yves! Je t'adore, Je suis à toi, Je suis à toi, Jean-Yves!" His mouth took the shape of the words regardless of whether his lungs were screaming on a stuttered inhale or collapsing into rough exhales. Coherent speech only left Jeremy's lips about half of the time, but it didn't seem to matter as Jean stared down at him in pure exaltation, jaw dropped to let out every impassioned breath and the soft noises that clung to them. One of them sounded like 'Jérémie,' and another too much like 'good, good boy,' and that was enough for Jeremy's breath to catch on a sob as the molten tide lapped at his skull and burned to take his head entirely underneath. "I'm close, Jean-Yves, I– oh, shit, I'm gonna cum, please! Je suis à toi, s'il te plaît!" He warned, begging just for the sake of it as his vocabulary in both English and French dwindled to no more than Jean and sex. He didn't miss the heavy jerk of Jean's cock inside him when he cursed.

Jean's hand swiped up Jeremy's abdomen and between his pecs, gathering the sheen of sweat on shiny leather and fisting around the head of Jeremy's cock with the wet but decidedly not smooth grip– it was a rough friction, far more dragging sensitive skin over the hard muscle within than slicking over the desperate nerves on the surface, and it made Jeremy's spine arc like lightning. Jean struggled to keep fucking his boyfriend when the leg around his hips tightened, making it impossible to draw back more than an inch before a well-toned thigh urged him back in. Jean plastered his forehead to Jeremy's temple, nuzzling into his cheek in the surge of affection he always gave as his partner approached ruin. "Then cum with my name on your lips, my hands on your body, and my cock in your ass, mon Jérémie," he encouraged, toeing the line between giving permission and commanding it.

Jeremy choked on the inundation of pleasure, his muscles starting to seize as his blood smoldered hot enough to evaporate the ice water prickling his scalp. He was too far gone to even care what he was saying, just spitting out the jumble of his brain with no filter and making sure to tack his one clear thought, Jean-Yves Moreau, onto the end of it. "Ohhh mon fucking dieu, Jean-YVES!!" He yelped out just as the tension in his body snapped, leaving him untethered and entirely at the mercy of the pleasure wrecking him in steady waves. Convulsions rippled across him as his nerves sparked and crackled with euphoria, his cock throbbing in time with his overworked heart while cum soaked into Jean's already soiled shirt and dripped over leather gloves. It must have lasted forever, Jeremy gasping in his own personal earthquake with nothing but Jean surrounding him inside and out, and it hadn't stopped when awareness came back to him.

It most definitely didn't stop with the realization that Jean was laughing, little puffs of it warming Jeremy's jaw where he could feel a smile that might have been blinding if he could see it. Jean was laughing, the sound bubbling between gasps of ecstasy and effort as he made no motion to slow his inexorable pace of fucking Jeremy right through an earth-shattering orgasm and drawing it out as long as possible. Just when Jeremy thought he must have gone well and truly mad or discovered the opposite of post-nut clarity, Jean grunted a request in his ear that made another aftershock rip up his spine and he no longer cared if he was merely hallucinating it.

"I want to finish inside you," Jean started, the words as urgent as the shaky hand that dug fingers into the fat of Jeremy's ass and used the grip to keep pulling him down again and again on Jean's twitching cock, "I want to make you mine, Jeremy, can I–"

Jeremy didn't even finish listening to the question, wheezing the answer with everything he had left while the sweet throes of overstimulation etched bliss into his bones. "Ohmygod, please? Cum inside me, Jean-Yves, I'm all yours, fill me up, baby, please!" He begged, and was handsomely rewarded for it with a harsher grip on his ass and the absolutely frenzied thrusts of his partner chasing release without inhibition.

Jeremy didn't expect Jean to make much sound when he came– he usually didn't, beyond heavy breaths and a shaky sigh– but anything he might have heard this time was drowned in another deafening rev of the engine. With his eyes screwed shut in still sweltering bliss, all Jeremy could do was ride the overload of everything his nerves drank in.

Jean's chest pressing against his, heaving, heart hammering just as hard as his own.
Jean's hips bucking into him, cock pulsing inside him until soaked heat was dripping out of his abused rim.
Jean's gloved fingers slipping down the curve of his ass to feel exactly where he was speared open and still clenching with every tremor, rubbing excess lubricant and cum into his raw nerves to keep him shaking and whimpering out just as much as to soothe him.
And the damn bike, as smooth and sleek as Jean himself, rumbling under him with almost as much contentment as its owner until the engine cut.

Sound gradually came back to Jeremy, but the world remained sluggish and his mind even more so. Eventually, he could make out the words Jean was whispering to him, babbling to him almost mindlessly as they both came down from the height of ecstasy.

"Mine, you are mine... I have you," Jean assured, the words so thickly accented that Jeremy wasn't sure if it was all in English or French, but he understood them regardless and listened intently to the saccharine stream that made his heart pump out warm honey instead of blood, "I have you, I have you, Jeremy, and I will not let go. Nothing could make me let go of you, you are mine."

"You'll never have to let go, Jean-Yves, I'm holding on just as tight," Jeremy promised, pressing his hands into Jean's skin to emphasize his point. Jean nuzzled at him again, still whispering the same sentiments as if their truth depended on them being spoken aloud. Jeremy was content to lay together as long as Jean needed, to bask in the afterglow of intense sex and feel the dwindling fullness as Jean softened inside him, feel the embers of need pleasantly smoke and cool, feel his lover's pulse become his own and recover from their shared marathon.

And, of course, Jeremy waited for his legs to feel like they were made of anything sturdier than a ziplock baggie of pudding. He'd had enough rodeos with Jean by now to know that any attempt to stand– or God forbid, WALK– in the next few minutes would put him flat on his face.

A light shake in Jean's shoulders snatched him from his post-orgasm haze, and Jeremy quickly stroked through his lover's scalp in a comforting brush of all fingers and no nails as he searched the man's face. "Oh, sweetheart, what is it?" He checked, having assumed his partner to be crying. He was puzzled to find no trace of tears on still flushed cheeks and didn't have time to understand Jean's almost annoyed expression before a sharp and crooked nose buried into his cheek to hide it again.

" 'Mon fucking dieu,' " Jean mocked in a terrible attempt at an American accent, all stereotypical Californian surfer boy and absolutely not at all what Jeremy had sounded like when voicing the heat-of-the-moment curse. "That is what you said... I complain that you never swear, and you give me that? You ridiculous man..."

But Jeremy could hear the amusement in his voice, the sharp puff of air through his nose, the slight upturn of the lips nestled into his cheek. "You love it though, huh?" He said– not truly a question or even a tease, just a warm realization cemented in place by the lingering kiss pressed to the corner of his lips.

"It is very you, mon amour... And I would have all of you."

Notes:

Jean, thinking about Jeremy in his head: I love you as the ocean loves the sun, forever finding a horizon on which to kiss you again and warming beneath your gaze... Forever pulled by the reflection of your beauty and content to sway in even the most reckless of tides with the strength it gives me...
Jean, out loud: If you ever say "mon fucking dieu" again, I will enter the FBI's witness protection program.

Anyways I am on tumblr and I love to yap and also I have so much goddamn porn posted on here (⁠。⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠。⁠)⁠ノ⁠♡ yell at me please and thank you