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As the others crowded around them, accusing glares laser-sharp, trained on Lukas, Jesse fought for words.
There was a million things he could’ve said, a million reasons why, duh, Lukas is not the White Pumpkin, and they’re out of their damn minds for even thinking something so outrageous.
He didn’t push the button! He had no time to set up those traps, we just got here when Torquedawg got killed! Creators, people, it’s Lukas!
He got stuck on that last thought. It looped in his brain like a broken disc, burning on the tip of his tongue. He faltered as Lukas looked back at him with those starry blue eyes, and his mouth went dry, a lump forming in his throat.
He begged himself to come up with a response, a plea, anything that would stop Lukas being pulled away from him.
It’s Lukas .
He didn’t know why, but the very thought tore at his heart.
—————
“Creators.” Lukas whispered with a short laugh, dusting the crumbs off his hands. “At this rate, we’re never finding this nutcase, are we?”
“Don’t say that.” Jesse murmured back, giving him a clumsy shove, hand barely managing to find his shoulder in the pitch black of the closet. He shifted uncomfortably, thankful that the lack of light managed to disguise the rising heat in his cheeks at being sat so close to the archer.
It didn’t help that he could feel the brush of Lukas’ breath against his cheek with every incredulous huff escaping his lips, their knees awkwardly pressing together from where they sat, cross-legged and hunched over on the closet floor.
Lukas leant back a little, and the feeble beams of light peeking through the iron door managed to silhouette his face for just a moment, pooling in each gentle curve of his face, the glint of his bitter smile, the irises of his tired blue eyes, before it vanished, those subtle details lost to the heavy shadow.
Not that it mattered. Every single one had long since been branded into every corner of Jesse’s brain.
Jesse’s own gaze lingered for a moment too long. Thankfully, his heart skipping a beat roused him from his trance, and he snatched his eyes away, hoping that the faint candlelight glow would fail to capture his visible nerves.
“Why shouldn’t I?” Lukas murmured, jacket rustling as he folded his arms. “Don’t get me wrong, you’ve got my full faith. I know we can figure out who it is. My hang-up…”
One slender hand came into view, illuminated as he jabbed a finger at the small window. “…Is with convincing everyone else. You saw how quick they all were to accuse me.”
Jesse merely shrugged. “They’ve just watched, like, three of their friends die. I don’t blame them for being jumpy.”
Lukas didn’t move into the light, but Jesse knew him all too well to not predict the smirk growing across his features. “Well, three is being generous. Not sure anyone really liked that… Torquedawg guy.”
“Psh. Guess not.” The hero glanced down, shifting forwards to rest his elbows on his knees and wring his hands. “I get it, though. I know we can unmask this White Pumpkin guy. But… they are a little too hysterical to listen to reason.”
It was a little hard for Jesse to not let the thought get to him. Lukas seemed to sense this, the way he always does, and leant forwards to take Jesse’s hands in his, a ruffled tuft escaping his usually neat hair to brush against the shorter man’s forehead. Jesse startled a little, glancing upwards to meet Lukas’ icy, shadowed eyes mere inches away from his, gaze laden with sympathy and exhaustion.
If Jesse hadn’t gone pink already, he certainly had now. He swallowed the lump in his throat as Lukas spoke, voice so low and soft it was almost crooning.
“I’m sorry.” He began, breath ghosting over Jesse’s reddening cheeks. “I don’t mean to be cynical. But, uh. It’s hard to not lose at least a little hope when you’ve practically been kept prisoner for hours.”
He paused, smiling. “Thanks for the bread, by the way. I was starving. I’m not sure they realise you’re supposed to, yknow. Actually feed your captives.”
“Don’t worry, Lukas.” Jesse’s gaze hardened with a sudden passion, visibly catching the archer by surprise. “I’m gonna get you out of here.”
“While I appreciate the sentiment,” Lukas chuckled, crooked grin catching the light as he leant back to give the determined hero a supportive, mildly sarcastic pat on the shoulder. “That’s not as easy as it sounds. I mean, even with Ivor on guard, one of the others comes to check on me every hour or so. They’ll notice, and then they’ll think I’m off on some… convoluted new killing spree.”
Frustrated with his accuracy, Jesse leant back against the wall with a huff, brow furrowing in thought. His grip on Lukas’ hand stayed firm.
“There’s got to be a way. I can’t let you rot in here any longer.”
“Trust me when I say there isn’t. I’ve had a lot of time to think of, like, a million possible escape routes, and then even more time after to accept my fate.”
Jesse opened his mouth to reply only to find his breath catching in his throat, heart lurching at the statement. He tilted his head back to stare straight up at the ceiling, thankful that the darkness provided a curtain to hide the stress lining his face.
Letting out a long sigh, he soon managed his response, cut with a weighty laugh.
“That’s a really bleak way of phrasing it, Lou.”
“Yeah, I knew as soon as it came outta my mouth.” Lukas laughed back, but leant in, body language taught with concern as he offered Jesse’s clammy hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry. You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. I do.”
Jesse straightened up, crossed legs brushing against Lukas’ once more.
“You’re right.” He attempted to agree with the archer only to falter at the end of the phrase, something unspoken hanging in the air, plagued by his hesitation.
You always are.
“I know you and Petra can figure it out without me.” Lukas murmured, filling in the empty space.
“I meant it when I said you have my full faith.”
He dragged his thumb in little circles over the hero’s scarred knuckles and Jesse had no idea what to do with the way that made him feel.
“Why?” He breathed back simply.
“Is that even a question?” Lukas smirked. “We’ve gotten out of tighter scrapes than a closet.”
Jesse only offered a weak smile in reply, staring off at the empty space beside Lukas’ head.
The silence stretched out and rolled on uncomfortably until Lukas eventually settled on the realisation that it wasn’t exactly a straightforward question, but rather a halfhearted bid for comfort. Reassurance. An attempt to coax the archer into easing the growing static in his brain.
Lukas straightened up and withdrew his hand from Jesse’s, slender fingers seeming reluctant to ease up as they ghosted over his armoured knee in their retreat. The stale air seemed to rush in to the newfound space between them, to fill Lukas’ absence, and it almost stung. Jesse folded his arms to fend off the sensation, both in his hand and his hammering heart.
“I have faith because it’s you, Jesse.”
Lukas’ voice rang out softly in the empty air. Every word was soft and sickly sweet and so, so gentle, as though he thought Jesse would shatter into pieces if he raised it any louder. If he wasn’t so highly strung, he’d find it patronising. Instead, Jesse let himself find solace in the dulcet tone, resting his head against the closet wall with a grin.
“That’s a bold statement.” He mused, staring straight at the archer. Thanks to the angle and his eyes having adjusted to the unrelenting darkness, he could make out Lukas’ features a little more clearly, studying them with wide, unabashedly adoring brown eyes.
It took him by surprise when the author met those eyes, only to nervously dart his gaze away, voice faltering.
“I mean, like…” He laughed awkwardly, a confusing tension between them that Jesse knew all too well. It was growing overly familiar, almost tiring. It still scraped something raw inside his chest.
“Creators, Jesse. I don’t know.” Lukas eventually breathed out after an awkward stretch of silence, running a hand over his face as he chuckled. “There’s no way around it. It’s you. I have literally followed you to the ends of the earth. You think I’m going to stop now?”
“Oh yeah? And what if I’ve met my match?” Jesse hummed, more teasing than genuine.
“Don’t make me laugh. This White Pumpkin is nothing. He’s a coward. And I think I’ve known you long enough to say with certainty that you’re no coward, Jesse. You’re strong, and kind, and way more than capable of figuring this out.”
Lukas jabbed his finger into Jesse’s chest on that last syllable with a surprising ferocity. Eyes wide with pleasant surprise, Jesse simply closed his fist over it, taking it into his hand once again in some attempt to calm the archer’s sudden passion. Lukas said nothing: merely gazing straight at him, eyes almost pleading.
“You saved the world , Jesse. Don’t doubt yourself even for a second. I mean it.” He finished with a sigh.
“Wow.” The hero breathed out, grinning as a means of distracting Lukas from the surely obvious tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks for the pep talk. I never knew you cared so much.”
“Of course I care, idiot.” His voice was barely a whisper. The quiet roughness of it felt like a magnet, as though it were trying to physically pull Jesse closer: an impulse he’d wanted to give in to since the Witherstorm. Instead, he steadily met those unrelenting eyes, finally refusing to care about how visibly flustered he must look.
“It’s you.” He repeated, as though it were an obvious explanation.
Jesse’s heart leapt at the words, chest heavy as though something suppressed deep within it had shifted its weight, turned over, unfurled. He let it.
The silence rolled on once more until Lukas disrupted it with a short laugh, pulling his hand away once again to sheepishly scratch the back of his neck, dodging eye contact. Jesse could still feel the echoes of those fingers intertwining with his, exactly in the way he’d never once stopped longing for ever since Lukas had first reached for his hand. He let himself keep longing, chest aching for the contact.
“I don’t know what you’re doing holed up in this closet with me.”
He chuckled, still not meeting Jesse’s steady gaze. If he did, he’d see Jesse looking straight at him with something raw and adoring behind those puppy-dog eyes, and maybe he’d guess.
“I mean, you could be out there, doing something. You’re no prisoner.”
Not to them, maybe.
“I’m here because I wanted to see you.” He put simply.
It had come out pure, not disguised by metaphor or some awkward attempt to skirt around his feelings. It was honest.
His true, only reason.
“I missed you.”
Lukas scoffed or gave some choked gasp, breath catching in his throat either way as he laughed. “Why?”
Jesse shrugged, smirking as he mirrored the archer’s earlier words in an unmistakeable yet mildly awkward reciprocity.
“It’s you.”
Lukas’ eyes finally snapped up from the ground to meet Jesse’s, and suddenly the air felt so much heavier. He was once again hyper-aware of the limited space between them, their legs uncomfortably pressing together, the heat in his face and under his collar. In the faint light—that all of a sudden he realised was forming a soft halo, framing every feature he knew like the back of his hand—he could just make out the author swallowing hard, lips parted in a shaky intake of weirdly warm air.
Fuck. He was staring at his lips.
Even obscured by shadow, Lukas certainly didn’t miss that.
Subtly, he moved forwards, reaching over to grasp Jesse’s hand with a near desperation this time. The hero slid their fingers together, intertwining so perfectly that the hopeless romantic buried deep within him could almost say they were built to fit against one another.
He leant in too, ignoring the way his heart was pounding against his ribs, focusing on Lukas and only Lukas, and the feeling of slowly but surely closing that short gap between them.
“It’s me, huh?” Lukas whispered with a teasing smirk, breath ghosting against Jesse’s face all too clearly as he glanced at the hero’s lips, then back up, glacial eyes alight with playfulness and adoration and something else he couldn’t quite make out.
Jesse smiled, pulling one hand free from the archer’s grasp to cup his cheek instead, delighting in the way those gorgeous eyes, the ones he’d dreamed about losing himself in over and over, widened ever so slightly as he traced a thumb over the little scar on his cheekbone.
“Of course.” He breathed out, as though it were an obvious explanation. “It’s always been you.”
Lukas beamed, eyes crinkling in the corners the way Jesse adored, before finally, finally closing the gap, soft lips meeting his in a way that threatened to turn his world upside down.
Jesse leant into it, his other hand reaching around to pull Lukas in, to press them closer together in a way that had his heart screaming once again that they were built to fit against one another, aligned so perfectly there was no other explanation but fate.
He lost himself in that kiss, breaking apart only to breathe, air heavy against their flushed faces, rushing in to fill the gap almost torturously.
Jesse hated that gap. He wanted to lean back in, to lose himself completely in this sudden, reckless thing between them. He paused, stunned not only by the impulsive act but how totally and undeniably right it felt, how obvious, how stupid that he’d forced himself to wait so long for this one small thing he’d dreamed about so endlessly that it had begun to feel like a distant, aching memory.
Their kiss wasn’t tentative. It was done with a terrifying ease, as though they’d done it a million times across a million universes, as though purely and utterly inevitable.
This one small, reckless, impulsive thing felt so right it was as though the air between them, their intertwined fates had always been leaning towards this.
Even though he knew better than anything that now was certainly not the time.
The gap between them widened. Lukas laughed, breath catching as he sucked in a deep drag of not only the air, but Jesse , drawing the very moment into his lungs as he tentatively, reluctantly pulled away a little.
“This is… weird timing.” He managed eventually, breathing strange and a little erratically.
There was no weight behind the words. It was merely an observation. An acknowledgement to clear his conscience before he did what he knew he was going to do next.
Jesse’s face was still hot. He couldn’t tear his eyes off those lips, the feeling of them connecting so easily with his echoing in his brain louder and louder every time.
“Uh-huh.” Was all he could muster, swallowing the lump in his throat with a shaky grin.
Lukas leaned back, sitting on his knees.
“Is now… not the time?” He tried, some strange, shy way of obtaining the go-ahead to close that gap once more.
Neglecting the ache in his chest and his purest instinct, Jesse forced himself to actually consider the question, despite his reluctance to even slightly agree with it. One glance at Lukas’ eyes told him that he didn’t agree with his own implicit concern either. Or at least, he didn’t want to.
They both know more than anything that this is not the time. But Creators, they’d waited this long. If this incessantly crazy night had taught them anything, it’s that life is short.
Why not give into a little… base impulse?
Jesse cleared his throat, giggling a little at his own train of thought. He was well aware of how crazy he would look to some outside observer. But Lukas could hardly be considered an outside observer. He practically read the hero’s mind every time, so of course, he laughed along, shuffling forwards.
Jesse leant back in, hands finding solace on the back of Lukas’ neck and the small of his back, pulling him close, closing that gap.
He didn’t answer with words. He answered with everything else.
His heart. His desire. His lips meeting Lukas’ once again.
This time it wasn’t as soft or romantic as before. The pair connected with a crash like thunder, quickly pulling eachother in. It set Jesse’s nerves aflame, his heart racing once again, and he squeezed his eyes shut, drowning in the sensation. Tentatively, as though unsure if he had permission, Jesse’s hands roamed, slowly and slightly sliding up Lukas’ back and neck, waiting for the go-ahead.
Lukas exhaled into the kiss, parting his lips ever so slightly in some unspoken reply, or demonstration of eagerness that matched Jesse’s perfectly. The hero’s heart fluttered, hand tangling with messy blond hair.
His other hand moved upwards, toying with Lukas’ untucked shirt. He moved like he wanted to memorise the moment, to memorise Lukas, as though he were afraid he’d miss something with the pads of his fingers.
Lukas moved forwards a little, pressing Jesse against the back wall. One arm propping him upright, his free hand wasted no time pressing against Jesse’s side, slipping under his armour and beneath his shirt to caress the scarred skin almost fervently. It caught the hero by surprise, who drew in a soft breath, lips hesitating against Lukas’. Certainly not with reluctance, but with disbelief.
Was this really happening? It hardly felt real. Jesse could almost be convinced he was dreaming again, the way he’d shamefully done a thousand times before.
Lukas’ tongue, softly swiping against his bottom lip, agonisingly slow and a little teasing, brought him back to reality in mere seconds.
It was happening. Lukas. He was kissing Lukas.
And Jesse was ready.
Well, that was a lie. As ashamed as he was of the fact, he’d never kissed anyone before. Especially not like this. But Creators , he wanted it. He’d longed for this moment for far longer than he’d ever care to admit, even to Lukas, even now.
Carefully, gently, fighting back a giddy smirk, he eased his lips apart.
Naturally, the kiss deepened—not rushed, or desperate, or overwhelming—just inevitable . Even so, Lukas’ want seemed to overtake his experience, lips pressing firmly against Jesse’s as his tongue dragged between them.
Attempting to mirror his movements, the hero leant into it a little too quickly, the pair’s teeth clashing with an uncomfortable click.
“Agh! Shit!” Jesse pulled away, open palms raised in front of him apologetically as he groaned, dragging his tongue over the gap between his front teeth. “Sorry! Did I hurt you?”
Lukas merely blinked at him, eyes wide, before giggling, his free hand retreating from Jesse’s side to cradle the hero’s reddening cheek. “No, it’s fine. Are you okay? Should I stop?”
“No.” Jesse shot back a little too quickly. “Uhm. No. Sorry. I, uh…”
He cleared his throat awkwardly, drawing in a shaky breath as he finally became aware of the intense nerves that overtook his body, knotted deep in his stomach.
“I’ve never done this before. Kissing, I mean. Or… anything else.”
Jesse internally winced at how presumptuous that sounded out loud. He dodged Lukas’ soft, inquisitive gaze, grinning sheepishly.
“I, uh. Don’t know if I’ll be any good at it.”
Lukas chuckled affectionately, eyes crinkling in the corners as he slowly began to lean back in. “That’s fine, Jesse. I swear, you’ll do great. You are great.”
The phrase shot something inexplicable through Jesse. He forced it down, swallowing hard.
Inches away from Jesse’s lips, he whispered one last thing, breath cool against his flushed face.
“Maybe I’ll take the lead for a change.”
As they finally gave the kiss another attempt, Jesse realised he was insanely turned on, by both Lukas’ words and lips and the hand that was slowly sliding up his shirt again. His jeans were starting to feel a little… restrictive .
Fffffuck .
It didn’t help his anxiety one bit—if anything, it made things worse—shame steadily creeping onto his already red-hot face. Still, he parted his lips, giving Lukas access.
The kiss quickly grew frantic and Jesse was honestly too lost in the feeling to know whose fault that was. His hand dragged up Lukas’ spine, mapping out every ridge, pulling him in as close as is physically possible. As his hunger for the archer grew, so did his uncertainty, and his painful consciousness of his lack of experience.
Lukas’ tongue against his own forced him to stay in the moment, his hand growing more daring as it grasped the soft flesh of his side and roamed across tense muscle, tracing over his core.
The sensation shot straight through him, but he was too touch-drunk to care. He wanted Lukas, and nothing but, so his hand—pinky just breaking the waistband of Lukas’ pants in a way seemed to drive the archer’s fervour—clumsily pulled him closer, closer, closer.
The motion unfortunately resulted in a sharp gasp from the hero as Lukas’ leg gently brushed up between Jesse’s, connecting with something that was growing to be embarrassingly hard.
Jesse hesitated, shame, anxiety and a desperate longing flooding every sense as he screwed up his face, waiting for Lukas to say something, anything.
He certainly didn’t expect the archer’s lips to swiftly connect with his neck. That got another short gasp out of him, then another as he dragged his tongue over the area.
Briefly, Jesse began to wonder if he was in over his head. It was cut short by Lukas pressing more hungry kisses along his jaw—firm and desperate at first, then softening as they passed over the ghost of the bruise left over from Sky City—his hand reaching up to trace the mark with such caring and tenderness that it sent Jesse’s head spinning.
He knew right then and there that he didn’t care one bit about anything else. He just wanted Lukas. So, he pulled the archer closer once again, their bodies parallel with one another, that cursed gap undoubtably closed.
Lukas responded with a sharp inhale, air cold against Jesse’s exposed neck, an odd stuttering noise escaping from his throat as he pressed flush against the hero’s thigh.
It was then when Jesse realised there actually wasn’t much to worry about. Lukas wanted him equally as badly. He could feel his proof pressing against his leg.
The realisation didn’t have long to linger between them, their lips meeting with a newfound fervour, their tongues clashing carelessly as Jesse’s hand firmly gripped Lukas’ hips almost on instinct, pulling him down, his own hips pressing upwards against the archer’s own leg. Lukas complied, rhythmically grinding down onto the hero with a surprising desperation that he’d never once anticipated.
Any last scraps of inhibition went straight out of the window as Jesse heard Lukas softly whine into his mouth.
The sound, so faint he could’ve missed it if he weren’t paying rapt attention to Lukas’ every movement, seemed to activate something in his brain. It shot straight through him like electricity, so, easing his accidentally harsh grip on the archer’s messy hair, his hand planted onto Lukas’ chest, and steadily snaked downwards. It explored his abdomen, caressing the toned muscle, toying with the waistband of his jeans, before settling on his crotch, clumsily palming him through the fabric as his tongue thrust deeper into Lukas’ eager mouth.
He wasn’t really thinking. He just wanted to hear it again; that hitched breath soft against his lips, the quiet keening at the back of his throat that had sent his mind reeling.
Naturally, it worked. He got what he wanted. Lukas gasped, and softly bit Jesse’s lip in reply, stifling the sound.
In his state, so zeroed in on Lukas he was hardly paying attention, Jesse was totally unprepared for Lukas’ own hand to retreat from under his shirt, moving to match his actions.
And then, nerves alight and sparking with the sudden contact he’d been desperately longing for in some suppressed part of his unconscious, Jesse broke from the kiss, tilted his head back involuntarily and let out an embarrassing whimper.
Shit.
The hero gasped, clamping his lips shut.
Thankfully, Lukas didn’t seem to mind it. If anything, he shared Jesse’s previous enthusiasm, merely giggling in response. His hand didn’t let up, moving effortlessly against his now uncomfortably tight jeans, tracing the print of his hard-on with skilled, slender fingers. Fighting back more sounds through clenched teeth, Jesse tried not to lose his cool, keeping his shaky hand moving against Lukas.
The archer’s lips made contact with his neck again and it finally seemed to break him, the soft, teasing kisses seeming almost torturous. A shameless moan slipped out of him, and he somehow blushed even harder, his free hand quickly clamping over his mouth.
“You okay?” Lukas whispered, breath cold against his throat. Jesse nodded vigorously, screwing his eyes shut.
He had no idea what to do with himself when Lukas’ hand finally let up. He whined under his breath with the lack of contact, then gasped as he felt the archer reaching to unbuckle his jeans.
Lukas paused. Jesse seriously wished he didn’t.
He opened his eyes to meet Lukas’, which stared at him with a mixture of unadulterated lust, and pure adoration. His hands lingered on the waistband of his undone jeans.
“Uhm.” He swallowed hard, eyes widening. “Is it okay if I…”
He slowly tugged the fabric downwards in a silent question. Jesse couldn’t think of any possible reply that wasn’t going to sound desperate or embarrassing, so he decided to just let it , his voice coming out in a low whine.
Fuck it.
“ Please .”
Lukas eyes practically lit up, and he visibly faltered at the sugary tone. Snapping out of it, he leant back, unclipped his suspenders, and yanked Jesse’s jeans down to his ankles. Jesse reached over to pull off his boots while Lukas shot to his feet, shuffling out of his own jeans and quickly glancing out of the small window. Nodding, he settled back down, pinning Jesse against the wall and pressing kisses to his face and neck in between speaking.
“Coast is clear.” He whispered, shuffling forwards so the pair were pressed against one another, the friction and the kisses driving more sharp gasps out of Jesse’s throat. “We’re good.”
“Good.” Jesse choked out clumsily, pulling Lukas’ hips flush with his and grinding up against the archer. “Good.”
The motion drove a low groan out of the archer and he sloppily thrust down onto him. Jesse whimpered shamelessly, giving up on trying to stifle the sounds, shaky fingers slyly toying with the waistband of Lukas’ boxers.
Lukas’ own hands were busy making quick work of removing Jesse’s armour, drawing slender fingers over clasps and buckles, swift and effortless in the way he tossed the heavy plates to the side. Refusing to break contact with Jesse’s lips even for a second, his core tensed in an effort to stay in place as he undid his own armour, shrugging it and his jacket off in one fluid motion.
His hands practically flew to the hero’s shirt, and—finally pulling away from the passionate kiss with an unchaste sigh—yanked it over Jesse’s head, ruffling his already messed-up curls. His dark eyes flashed, then quickly squeezed shut as the archer’s flushed lips descended onto his exposed torso, peppering every inch with kisses while simultaneously maintaining a sloppy rhythm with his hips. The combination seemed to set his body alight, quivering with amorous electricity and pure, unfiltered want.
Much to Jesse’s appreciation—though a discontented whine did slip past his lips at the lack of contact—Lukas paused once again, sitting up to pull off his own shirt. Jesse was quick to run his hands up his seemingly sensitive sides, palms roaming over the pale skin, shifting forwards to press ravenous kisses to his collarbone.
Lukas exhaled contentedly, his hand slowly dragging up the hero’s spine in a tantalising motion before rooting firmly in his hair, pressing Jesse’s face into his neck. He gladly complied, dragging his tongue across his throat. His dick ached at the faint sound of a stuttered breath catching in Lukas’ throat, the archer gripping Jesse’s side hard to clumsily grind against him, somehow even more desperately than before.
It was intoxicating. Jesse was once again overcome with the near-compulsive need to hear him, taking deep, shaky drags of air—of Lukas —with every arc of his hips. He wanted more. He needed more.
Lukas’ soft, halted moan finally gave him enough confidence to take it.
“ Jesse .”
Hearing his own name sung out in a wanton plea was all the fuel he needed to pull back, press one restrained, needy kiss to Lukas’ parted lips, and tug clumsily at the waistband of the taller man’s boxers.
Lukas swallowed hard at the very notion, masking his eagerness with a sly grin. He matched Jesse’s movements, dragging his fingers down the hero’s happy trail to rest on the clothed tip of his dick. He shivered in response, previous bravado faltering.
“You want these off?”
Lukas’ voice was so low and thick with lust that it shot straight to Jesse’s dick, straining against the fabric. He merely nodded, and Lukas complied, sliding Jesse’s underwear down first before getting rid of his one-handed, his other hand pressing Jesse’s shoulder firmly into the wall.
Jesse sat back, his awe-tinged gaze shyly dragging downwards over Lukas’ shadowed frame, then back up at his pink-tinged face.
A barely audible “ woah ” slipped past his lips as he took in the sight, and Lukas’ eyes widened, visibly touched at the flattery; at being regarded with such pure and genuine warmth ; as though he were the most beautiful thing Jesse had ever seen.
Lukas stilled, awe-struck, before straightening up with a bashful smile, his ego evidently a little stroked.
Jesse, on the other hand, suddenly felt incredibly exposed, for obvious reasons. The reality of the situation struck once again, rendering him speechless and unsure, unable to do much except stare, failing to mask the slightly giddy grin that spread across his flushed features.
Thankfully, Lukas seemed to find his cluelessness endearing. He was equally as awkward; pausing to shyly scratch at the back of his neck before shuffling forwards, pushing the hero’s dark curls out of his face and meeting his lips in a gentle, short kiss.
It ended in a breathy giggle, and Jesse was too entranced by his dimly-lit face to notice his hand snaking further and further down his chest, the tips of his slender fingers coming to rest on his dick.
The contact already made his heart leap, but it was almost prudish in comparison to Lukas’ next move: curling those fingers around his length and giving it a few teasing strokes.
Jesse shamelessly moaned, the short, breathy sound escaping from his throat in an instant, breaking into a low whine as Lukas kept going, painfully slowly, a warm yet somehow taunting grin across his pink face.
“I-Is this okay?” He whispered, breath brushing against the shell of Jesse’s ear in a way that sent sparks rolling down his spine. The question made his mask of supposed confidence slip, and Jesse just caught the languid uncertainty behind it.
The hero opened his mouth to reply, only for his words to be stolen with every fluid arc of Lukas’ wrist, replaced only by gasps and breathy whines. He opted for a slight nod as his head fell back against the wall, eyes screwing shut.
His eyes were rolled too far back in his head to make it out, but he was sure Lukas was smiling. He kept going, picking up the pace.
Jesse sighed, sliding down to prop himself up on his elbows. He braced himself on his forearms to let his hips lift off the floor, immodestly bucking into Lukas’ palm.
“H-holy shit .” He moaned, the words falling out before he had time to think about what he was saying. “Creators, this- this is actually… hah- happening . This is- this- ah , Lukas …”
He felt the air grow heavier as the archer’s name rang out into it, an ecstatic, high-pitched keen that forced a shaky gasp out of Lukas.
A fresh wave of hunger, raw and borderline animalistic, seemed to consume him. His free hand gripped Jesse’s hip and slammed it flat against the floor, pinning him down as Lukas clambered on top to straddle the hero, their dicks pressed together against Jesse’s stomach as Lukas leant over to press his lips to his again.
The motion caught Jesse totally off guard all over again, so fast he could hardly process it; and by the time he’d regained control of his touch-drunk brain, Lukas’ tongue was deep in his mouth, and his hips were thrusting against his, forcing more ecstatic, sloppy moans out of him.
He tried his best to keep up with Lukas’ pace, lips clashing, grinding up against him, reaching out to caress his sides only for the taller man to grip his wrists, intertwine their sweat-slicked hands and pin them against the wall behind his head. Jesse neglected to control his volume at that. An outrageous moan escaped his throat, and Lukas breathed it straight back in, breaking the kiss to match it with a few illicit sounds of his own.
Jesse sung his name out with every motion like a prayer. Lukas, Lukas, Lukas. Because in that moment, that’s all there was. Just Lukas. All of Lukas.
He made time for a quick, real prayer.
Please, Creators, don’t let there be anyone outside that door.
Every nerve was on fire, every synapse firing, every inch of his skin alight where Lukas had been, heat mapping out the path of his hands. Eventually, Lukas’ vice grip eased, pulling Jesse’s hands towards him instead. The hero complied, fingertips roaming across the skin of his chest and sides, gripping his rear to pull Lukas harder down onto him. His face fell into the crook of Jesse’s neck, whimpers hot against his marked collarbones, pressing sloppy kisses to the area as he maintained the rhythm as best he could, hips speeding up with a fierce desperation.
In his haze, Jesse grew vaguely aware that he wouldn’t last much longer, heat pooling in his abdomen with every growing second. He screwed up his face, breathing hard against the archer’s ear.
An idea—one he would’ve blushed at and shoved deep down into a more sensible part of his brain less than an hour ago—crept into his brain. Just the thought of it threatened to send him over the edge, so, gritting his teeth, he fought to slow down his thrusts, one hand moving up to firmly grip Lukas by the hair and gently pry him off his neck.
Lukas looked straight into Jesse’s eyes in a way that drove him crazy. Gaze half-lidded, mouth agape in a desperate whine, the way he’d looked only in the most shameful of Jesse’s dreams.
The hero couldn’t stop himself from cupping his face in two hands and pressing a kiss to his reddened lips before slipping two fingers straight into his mouth.
Lukas’ eyes flashed with an unruly excitement, and he groaned before complying, seemingly catching onto Jesse’s plan as he made a little show of sucking his fingers. As soon as they were out, he went straight back for Jesse’s neck, making more marks that his armour almost certainly wouldn’t cover.
Head reeling, nerves still sparking with each increasingly frantic motion of Lukas’ hips, Jesse maintained his composure just enough to reach around and slowly press one finger into Lukas’ hole.
The loud, shameless sound, cold against Jesse’s spit-slicked neck was instant. Lukas all but cried, shuddering, and Jesse fought to keep his finger moving, timing steady with their thrusts.
“Agh- Creators, Jesse !”
Jesse moaned at the noise alone. Once again, he was overtaken with a desire to hear it again and again and again, pulling out for a beat just to press in a second finger, laser-focused on angling them just right.
Despite the awkward reach-around position, he knew he’d found the right spot in an instant. Lukas melted against him, moving one trembling hand to grip his bicep, a relentless barrage of whimpers fighting past his lips.
Jesse sped up, ramming into him, sweat beading on his brow as he began getting dangerously close to his own peak. His hips moved in tandem, moans slipping past gritted teeth, his other hand still firm in Lukas’ hair.
Lukas, Lukas, Lukas.
The archer’s whole body stuttered abruptly, shivering violently as his climax crashed over him. Then, without thinking, he bit down onto Jesse’s neck with an abrupt cry, teeth sinking viciously into the bruised skin.
That movement, that blinding flash of pain and pleasure and, Creators, Lukas , was all Jesse could take. He couldn’t fight his own climax any longer, and it struck like thunder, tensing every muscle, setting every inch of his body ablaze in a way he’d never even imagined possible.
With one last wanton cry of Lukas’ name, he came undone, unravelled, alive .
Lukas had undoubtedly done the same, momentarily stiffening, mouth open in a silent gasp, before melting into Jesse’s arms, panting heavily into the crook of his neck. Jesse quickly pulled out, holding him tight and staring up at the ceiling, wide brown eyes stained bright with disbelief and near euphoria.
Eventually, Lukas regained control of shaky limbs and tensed them just enough to roll off of Jesse, the thick, heavy air cold against their overheated, sweat slicked bodies.
Jesse could barely catch his breath, let alone speak.
“ Fuck . That was… you were…”
His mouth gaped awkwardly for a few more beats, head reeling. The first coherent thought that came to him quickly spilled out of his mouth.
“There’s no way nobody heard that.”
Lukas gave a short, sharp, breathy laugh in response, and Jesse could picture the wide, goofy grin across his face without even looking.
“I, uh… sorta forgot where we were, to be honest.”
Jesse hummed amusedly in reply, fumbling for Lukas’ hand to give it a quick squeeze.
“You…” The archer’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat with a giggle.
“You tend to have that effect on me.”
Jesse didn’t even know where to begin with that sentence. His chest ached, his ears rang, his lips parted with a barely audible gasp that sent his heart pounding all over again. He begged himself to come up with a response, but it was all too new, too real, too hard to hold in one breath.
He didn’t have to.
Lukas slowly rolled over, not once easing up his grip on Jesse’s hand, and—taking Jesse’s face in the other—he steadily leant in and pressed one soft, short, chaste kiss to his lips. Shockingly so, considering what they’d just done.
Jesse grinned, and pulled him straight back in, their lips meeting, impossibly gentle, impossibly overwhelming, impossibly real .
Real and concrete and so strangely inevitable.
He could just make out Lukas’ wide eyed, giddy grin in the dim light when he finally pulled away. His voice was airy and breathless, audibly dazed with disbelief and Creators, so much love.
“You, uh…” His breath was soft against Jesse’s cheek. He swallowed hard, steadying his shaky voice.
“You should probably get back out there, huh? Murderer to catch, and all.”
Jesse blinked. “Right. Right, yeah. I should.”
He certainly didn’t want to.
Curse being the group leader or whatever. Curse that fucking pumpkin.
He straightened up, his hands dragging over Lukas as they separated as though trying to memorise how he felt. Fumbling in the dark, he found what he hoped was his own shirt, jeans and underwear and hastily shuffled them on, with Lukas rising to his feet—stumbling and leaning against the wall with a soft wince—to do the same.
Jesse clipped his suspenders, pulled on his boots and grabbed his armour, swiftly suiting up and attempting to fasten it, only for his clammy, trembling hands to miss every time he reached for the buckles, the cool metal clinking in the dark. The hero cursed under his breath, sucking in a sharp inhale to try and soothe his frayed nerves. It was futile. Lukas was still barely a foot away from him.
“Here, let me…”
The archer stepped closer, jeans still undone, grasping at the armour with steady, gentle hands. Jesse stumbled backwards, still lightheaded, and grasped at his waist for support.
Lukas’ slender fingers flew over clasps and buckles with practiced ease, then gripped the chestplate and gave it a firm tug, making sure it was in place before daring to look back up at Jesse’s flushed face.
The silence dragged on. Neither of them let up their final, desperate contact with the other, Lukas’ palms pressed flat against worn metal. Eventually, a quiet plea slipped past his lips, sweet and tender and so full of love and the softest, painful tinge of worry.
“Be safe out there, Jesse.” His voice was barely a whisper, his eyes wide and starry and faintly misty.
“ Please .”
One hand moved up to cup the archer’s cheek, thumb dragging lightly over the scar across his cheekbone. He couldn’t make them out in the dark, but Jesse could practically feel every freckle under his hand. He knew Lukas’ face, branded into every corner of his brain, and he knew if the light outside was any brighter, he’d crumple at the heart-wrenching sight and kiss him all over.
He kept his resolve—Creators knows how—and nodded, brow set with determination.
“I promise, Lukas. I’ll find him. And then I’ll find you.”
“Oh yeah?” Lukas smirked weakly. “And what if he gets to me first?”
“I won’t let him.” Jesse put simply, definitively, as though it were an obvious explanation. “It’s you.”
Lukas’ eyes crinkled as he nodded back and stepped away. The air rushed straight back in to fill the space where he’d been, icy against his palm, that gap widening one final time. The light ghosted over him as he did, forming a brief halo across his ruffled blonde hair.
Jesse grinned, turned, and slowly opened the door, stepping out into the thankfully empty room. The stars glimmered outside, and Jesse could’ve sworn they winked at him. He wiped his brow, pushing back damp curls, before letting his hand come down to rest on the side of his neck. He could just feel the faint, temporary indent of Lukas’ teeth beneath his collar and he traced it into memory with his fingertips, the dull ache sending butterflies through him with every resonant heartbeat.
Jesse stepped out into the room, moving towards the window, gazing up at the speckled void with puppy-dog eyes.
He let himself give those stars one quick prayer, a sheepish grin plastered over his pink face.
Thank Creators for the White Pumpkin.