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“You’ve been taking tips from Cobb.”
Jaster did not jump from his draped position on the couch. He sat with his legs splayed apart, but he couldn’t help the nervous wringing of his hands in his lap. There was not a bone in his body primed for seduction, even though that was what he was going for.
“Jango said you wanted to see me here ‘for no reason’, but he is a terrible… fibber.”
Din tutted and then there was the feeling of his strong, warm hands sans gloves curl over both shoulders, thumbs digging into the tense muscles in his spine and neck. Jaster found the best kute he could scrounge up, but was just wearing the top and his regular pants without the rest underneath. His boots were off near the door, his beskar’gam on the mantel out of the way. Being nervous did not help his body relax, but the instant Din started massaging his neck, shoulders and back, his body was limp.
“I will have to teach your son to do better. You and Cobb have been plotting something… Care to share?”
“He… wants us to get married and be the best man at the party.”
Oh, what the kark was he saying? Din found a knot in his shoulder and worked it with his expert fingers. It was hard for thoughts to go through the filter in his brain that caught that kind of osik. Those hands were just so distracting, and why shouldn’t he be blunt and honest to this man he loved? One who spoke about training his son like he was proud to do it, like he was already his own?
“Do you want us to be married? To make those vows to me?” Din’s voice was soft, and nothing but his calm timbre through his voice modulator. He said it like he was asking about the weather, like he knew he had Jaster wrapped around his finger. Jaster would curse him if he didn’t worship the ground he walked on. The words flowed out of him with that same devotion and along the line it transformed into a prayer he wished for Din to hear between the lines. It was a question without asking; a question that should have a simple answer. Yes, or no. Neither outcome was simple, so he dreaded to ask outright.
“I thought of you constantly after we’d met and you’d fled, and I crave you constantly now that you are within my sights. I would give you all, and… My mind only thinks about raising our little warriors together. I have said the vows all but aloud to you.”
“Though you hardly know me?”
“I know you, Din Djarin. I may not know all that has happened in your life, but I know the man it’s shaped you to be. I am worried I have not given you the chance to know me the same.”
There’s a soft huff of laughter that has Jaster smiling without even looking at him. His voice has dropped in pitch just a slight, and his words have a shiver running down his spine.
“I am a Hunter, Jaster. I do not need many opportunities. Just one, good look.”
“And?”
“You are a man of your word, and a man of honour. There are not many I would claim to have such. But you… you are Haat, Ijaat, Haa’it; Truth, Honour, Vision, for me. I see a man I would be proud to stand beside, and raise ade together with. I… There are thoughts in my mind, of us intimate and one. A future where we could be home together, with only a promise. But… I do not see how you could….”
Din’s hands stopped, seeping warmth into his clothes and skin. Jaster had been holding his breath, committing the words and his voice to memory. The uncertainty at the end had his heart thumping. This was it. He just needed to convince Beroya, Din, that he was worth it. Worth it all, worth everything.
“How I could want to be with you forever?”
“Yes.”
“Because you are the most mandokarla of us all, Din. You protect children no matter the difficulty, you are selfless to help others, you are strong and smart, independent, but helpful. You are amazing with kids, and a formidable warrior. You have devoted yourself and the majority of your years providing for your Tribe, for foundlings. Most of the Haat’Mando’ade hoped you would turn me down so they could get a chance.”
“Bantha shit,” came Din’s voice, awed and amused.
“Ori’haat! That’s why they’ve been eyeing you like a piece of meat. I am sorry for that, by the way. You are just very… attractive in every way, and the Haat’ade are used to being very forward with their proposals. Staring is all they can do while I’m still in the running.”
“Suppose I’ve done an excellent job of eyeing you under my bucket then, that no one’s gotten the hint.”
“I— you have?” Jaster says, surprised.
“You wear your buy’ce, yes, but it has been my face. I can almost bet you I have slept in mine just as much as you have worn yours. A Beroya technique: you can see things clearer out of your peripheral vision when you are still and train your eyes to do it. I do not need to turn my head to see a lot of things, even out the ‘Tee. So yes, I have been choosing where I place myself in a room so I can stare at you without anyone knowing.”
What a revelation. Jaster is grinning from that, feeling almost silly from happiness. He’s had Din’s attention this whole time and never noticed. Beroya was just a master at hiding it.
Finally, Din comes around the couch so Jaster can lay eyes on him. His beskar’gam gleams in the low lighting in Jaster’s rooms, polished and clean. He can only imagine his clean-shaven face, barring that moustache that drives him nuts under that shined buy’ce, visor black and trained on him instead of those dark brown eyes. What the curves and angles of his lean body feel like under his hands without the sharpness and padding of his layers. There is a chance for Jaster, at this moment. Din is telling him all this for a reason. Personal information, tricks of the trade, him saying he would say the vows to Jaster if he could believe that Jaster loved him.
Some cultures do this the opposite way. Most Mandalorians he knew have done it the fun way. If the sex is not good, if one cannot find balance or pleasure in each other, then why commit to that for life? Better to have sex first and then the lifelong vows. That way they’ll be having hot sex all throughout their marriage, instead of wanting for something different.
“Lay with me,” Jaster says, throat tight with emotion, “And if you wish to say the vows to me in the morning after, then I will say them back with all the love I show you in the night, and then every day after that. If you wish to walk away, then I will cherish those memories, and be grateful if you still decide to stand with us. There is no honour lost, and it stays a memory. But… If you wish to wait to decide, I’ll understand. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
“That is a very favourable deal, for me,” Din says, clearly amused, “I accept, Jaster.”
Jaster huffs a laugh, happiness making his body feel light. This was happening. Din wanted to do this, and if things went well, they might be riduur tomorrow. Either way, he’d be content to wait for an answer for this experience. Beroya approaches the couch and Jaster scoots over enough to give him room to sit down. He grunts as he bends over, and he falls more into the cushion than sits, every movement stiff in his spine.
“Are you alright?” Jaster asks immediately, cataloging how everything in that motion seemed off. Did he hurt his lower back again? His hand is on his thigh plate, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the kute of his outer thigh. He half expects Din to brush him off, but he surprises him by being honest about what’s hurting him.
“Old injury acting up. I’ll be stiff for a few days, but it’ll go away.” He answers as he begins to take off his gear, starting with his boots. Watching him bend over to do it was painful, but Jaster didn’t want to insult him by doing them for him. That could come later, if they said the vows, then he would mother over him. The cape comes next, and everything else gets laid atop it in a precise, organized manner that comes from many years of repetition. Soon enough, he was down to his kute and pants just like Jaster, helmet the only beskar remaining. Jaster knows his face is flushed just by taking in the black, form-fitting suit hugging his upper body. Those broad shoulders and arms doubled with his trim waist, chest hard with muscle made a delicious sight that was hard to look away from.
“That massage I promised is still on the table,” Din comments, tilting his buy’ce at him.
“Only if I can do you first,” Jaster offers, “You seem like you need it more than I do.”
Din is silent for a long moment and Jaster wonders what he said. He’d been thinking more along the lines of preventing his sciatica by relieving some tension, but Din is taking too long to respond. It washes over him like cold rain, the memory of Din saying he didn’t like to be held down, memories of him awaking from a night terror, feeling the weight of his attackers pinning him down. Jaster, ashamed, opens his mouth quickly to rescind it, but Din is pulling his buy’ce off and speaking in his low, dulcet tone.
“You are very enticing, Jaster, and I trust you. I will try it.”
He let out the breath he was holding, and let the gentle smile take over his face. “Okay, but—”
“Yes, I will tell you to stop if I want you to, and I trust you to respect that,” He said, teasing, placing his helmet down and turning to face him. Din was just as handsome as ever, with his shaven cheeks and chin, his perfectly trimmed moustache. His eyes were warm when they took Jaster in, and he was looking at him with such love Jaster felt enveloped with it. His fingers curled over his thigh, a brand of his handprint on his leg, the heat spreading throughout his body. He leaned forward until his cheek was nearly brushing Jaster’s, warm breath ghosting over the shell of his ear. His whispered words were nearly as intoxicating as his touch.
“Take me to your bed, Jaster Mereel. Make love to me.”
What a blaze did that ignite in him. Lifting an arm to curl his fingers in the soft curls at Din’s nape, he pulled back until they were face to face, and tilted his head forward until Din met him halfway. The kov’nyn was gentle, and Jaster breathed in his scent, relaxing into his familiar touch like he has no other.
“It would be my honour, ner kar’ta,” Jaster sighs, grasping his hand to gently pull him off the couch and leading him towards the bedroom. Din brought his jar of oil and there was another anticipatory shiver down his spine at the thrill. He was going to give Beroya a massage. Jaster made sure to sit on the bed first, letting Din pick where he wanted to go. He picked the spot right next to him to his delight, his leg a hot line of fire pressed along his own.
“Can I see you first?” Din asks, and he’s so close Jaster can feel his breath on his face as he soaks him in this near, completely unfiltered. The last time they were like this, Jaster was moaning into his mouth as Din was licking his own cum out of Jaster’s. There was no stopping the blush he was sure was obvious even on his darker skin.
“Yes,” he rasped, hands already reaching for the back of his shirt collar to pull it up over his head. When he opened his eyes, they focused back onto his lover and the blush spread down his neck and chest. Din’s eyes were roaming over him in a slow, deliberate manner. Down the line of his throat, to the dark dusting of hair over his chest and down further the slope of his navel until they reached his belt.
Jaster was finally getting a good, long look in return. The first time had been such an emotional rollercoaster start to finish. Jaster had soaked in as much as he could of Din’s face, mesmerized with him so close, baring his face to him. He did not take as much time as he would’ve liked to study Din’s expressions, last time spurred on by the fact they were in his office where someone could knock anytime. It was obvious, now that Jaster knew, that he was not used to baring his face to anybody. The emotions flitted over his face without restraint, and Jaster was finally undistracted enough to catalog it.
He recognized the lust by the way his pupils swallowed the brown of his eyes. Knew from experience the way his tongue peeked out to wet his bottom lip, maybe remembering the way Jaster tasted the same way Jaster remembered him when he licked his own lips. There was a flush on his face as well, now clearly visible without all his scruff. Though, Jaster would say he looked just as devilishly handsome with a little beard as he did without, but he was happy to see more of his strong jaw. There were freckles and beauty marks dotting his cheeks that moved with his dimples when he gave Jaster a crooked grin, raising a single eyebrow at him. The question was clear: Are you going to keep going?
Encouraged by how well Din was responding, his hands drifted to his belt buckle. Din was watching his hands enraptured, hands twitching at his sides like he itched to do it himself. Jaster leaned back a bit and lifted his butt to let his pants pool at the foot of the bed. All that was left were his black briefs, exposing the top of his thigh to his toes. Din’s eyes were still roving the length of his body, eyes flitting to scars, bruises, freckles.
“If I wouldn’t break my back doing it, I’d be on top of you until morning,” Din rasped, face awestruck. His hands finally wandered to that hidden spot on his kute that started the meticulous task of undressing. There was no hesitation in him now, fingers unclasping the tiny hooks faster than Jaster could have thought possible, even the ones that encircled his back.
“I- Oh,” Jaster floundered, his face completely aflame. That was something he’d only allowed himself to imagine alone in his bedroom. Din, astride in his lap, taking what he wanted from Jaster, and Jaster freely giving it to him. He seldom lasted over a minute on nights like those.
“Too much?” Din asked, cocking his head as he undid his zipper separating the pants from his top. There was another zipper that separated the top down the middle so he could pull the long-sleeved shirt off easier. Jaster’s eyes were glued to his hands just like the first time, always helplessly attracted to their movements. His body knew how talented they were at pulling his strings like an instrument, tuning things he did not even know were out of place. Din turned all the pegs that Jaster had wound too tight back a notch, while increasing tension in other, more pleasurable ones. To think of the idea of this man riding him a bad one? Never. If anything, that was one of Jaster’s deepest wants, his most naughty fantasy.
“No,” he said, voice rasping from the sudden dryness in his throat from his rampant imagination, “I think I would like that very much, but I don’t like the idea of you hurting yourself to do it.”
“Next time, then,” Din replied with another crooked smile, pulling the top half of his kute off.
“If you wish— oh Manda, that should be illegal,” Jaster could only say, once he got an eyeful of what Din was wearing under his kute. Ka’ra help him, how many layers did this man wear? This, however, was well worth the wait.
A sleeveless, duraweave vest with a V-neckline. His bared arms were sculpted with muscles from everyday exertion, his collar bones defining lines that separated the slope of his throat to the barest hint of his pectorals still hidden by fabric. Jaster was stunned then, and became even more dumbfounded when Din spent the next five minutes pulling out enough weapons to fill an armoury. More than a dozen senbon, two wicked long mircin’kale that look horrifyingly well-used to Jaster, two karambits, lockpicks, countless whistling birds sewn into fabric wrapped around his waist in another hidden pocket, and then a beautifully crafted whipsword, also broken in. The whipsword could be grabbed from under his kute and backplate in the right position, the handle was high enough, but the mircin’kale—
Cage-blades, one of the more secret weapons on older beskar’gam sets. Jaster had not seen them employed in many years, and when he had, it had not been part of their regular kit and were worn as a precaution. They were the last defence if one’s beskar’gam was taken, always sewn into kute fabric and hidden against the ribs. Many people, during translation, thought the name came from being molded for and to be worn along the rib cage. Over time, it was lost for what it was; for when a Mandalorian was caged and needed weapons for a last resort. Jaster wasn’t sure many Clans and Houses even trained with them anymore, not unless one was already experienced and going on types of missions where that was a possibility. Infiltrators, hostage rescuers, undercover verde. Not a single one of those weapons were for show and it was really beginning to sink in; the caliber of warrior choosing to undress next to him. Jaster had no idea he’d had this many weapons on him this whole time. Even on base, he was packing this much heat?
Now that he was done with disarming himself he unzipped his kute’ika and pulled it and his pants off and finally, he and Jaster were even in terms of layers. There is no helping the way he ogles Din as he did him, now that there’s barely anything between them. He is wiry with muscle, but showing evidence that Jaster needs to cook for him more. There isn’t a part of him that isn’t toned and flexing as he moves his clothes and weapons to join Jaster’s on the floor. It is hard not to focus on the litany of burned, raised scars on his body, but he can wait for the stories that come with them.
“May I ask you something?”
“Hm?”
“Cobb told me you had rules, but wouldn’t say what they were. I’m curious.”
Din huffed a laugh, “He’s a bastard like that,” he says, flopping back down on Jaster’s soft bed with a groan. Jaster follows him, lying on his side so he can look at his face. They scoot up the bed little by little with laughs between them until they reach the pillows. Din sighs as he lets his head rest on one, looking at Jaster with a smile.
“When I was with people before, Cobb included, I had some rules. The helmet stays on; Never touch my belt; No touching without asking; I stay on top, and no flipping. I will not… have sex on my back. I am willing to break some of those with you.”
“I’ve broken some of those already,” Jaster comments.
“No, I chose to ignore them with you. You are different, Jaster. I… still would like you not to touch my belt without asking, and.”
Jaster raised a hand at his frustrated noise as he cuts off, and when he was sure Din could see what he was doing, he laid it over his heart. The muscle of his pectoral twitched and then relaxed under his gentle weight, and he could feel the thumping of his heart under his palm.
“I do not like being choked. It happened once, and I lashed out,” Jaster admits, “And I am not big into feet.”
Din snorted and that was worth the admittance, so he continued. “There is no judgment between you and I. There is nothing you could say to me that will make me think less of you.” Jaster kisses Din’s bare shoulder with a quick peck before pulling back to eye him with the warmth and acceptance that was flooding his body. He hoped he could feel it, with his Jetii powers.
Din sighs, blinks content, and then looks at Jaster with determination. “My back hurts, but I do not like to have sex on my back. I… am not ready to have someone behind me or on top of me.”
“That is okay, cyar’ika,” Jaster says softly, “There are many other things we can do instead. Right now, I promised you a massage. You have very beautiful legs and arms, I can always start there if you’d like.”
There was that pretty blush again, darkening his naturally tanned skin all the way down his chest. Oh, was he not used to compliments even in the bedroom? What a fun little surprise.
“Actually… could, um, you do my back? Just… don’t pin me down at all. Gedet’ye.”
Jaster felt a flicker of surprise cross his face, “You… would trust me?”
“Elek.”
“Then, I happily accept.”
Din huffs another rare, low chuckle, and then forces himself to roll over onto his stomach with a grunt. There is a large bruise along the middle of his back over to his side, still dark with freshness. Jaster does a low whistle.
“No wonder you hurt, cyar’ika. This is a nasty bruise,” he comments as he coats his hands in Din’s oil, letting the excess drip onto his tanned, toned back. There was a moment of shock when Din exposed it to him, the tops of his shoulders marred with lashes down to right above his hips. It was a wall of thick scar tissue, and even his medically untrained eyes could see some of them were decades old, stretching with his body as he grew. Savaakri had warned him, and that was the only thing keeping him from demanding a person to hurt and not coming home until he felt justified. Din was squirming underneath him, a well hidden tick of discomfort and that banishes his anger. Jaster asks his next question as tenderly as he can.
“Do you know how much you can feel?”
There was a stuttering breath of air before a solemn, “No.”
“Would you like to learn together?”
At Din’s shaky nod, even though Jaster could see his eyes squeezed shut, he smiles. “Okay. I’m going to touch you now. Can you talk me through it, love?”
“Okay,” Din sighs, and Jaster smiles wider at the pure content in his voice. He lays his hands gently on his lower back, feeling his muscles tighten and then begin to soothe as Jaster lightly digs his fingers into his skin. Jaster gives him a questioning hum as he slowly moves his hands around, feeling which spots have Din’s muscles responding to his touch.
“Jate,” Din groans and Jaster huffs a soft laugh. He lets his thumbs gently work his tense spine and he manages to pull another soft moan deep out of Din’s chest. Jaster has to bite his own lip to try and not pay any attention whatsoever to the twitch of his dick in his underwear at the noise. He tries not to focus on Din’s bruise, moving his hands to work on the muscles around it and then moving up to his shoulders and the part of his spine segmented between his shoulder blades.
“I cannot feel much there,” Din comments with a husky voice when Jaster moves his hands to the defined muscles on his blades. He was not surprised; the skin was layered thick from where a whip had curled over his upper back and the tops of his shoulders. Jaster massages out the knots he can find under his thick skin anyways, which has Din sighing in relief.
“Didn’t even know that was there, hm?” Jaster teases, moving up to work the now lax muscles of his neck.
Din mumbles something in response into the pillow that doesn’t sound like Basic, but Jaster can only smile. He’s pleased as punch that Din has become so relaxed underneath his hands, and is equally as happy that he gets to tease them both by rubbing the length of his body. Jaster works his thick biceps down to his wrist before doing the same with his legs. He spends extra time documenting Din’s black, intricate designs inked from his left foot all the way up to the top of his hip, seeing how it does go all the way around. He thinks it covers Din’s ass cheek too, trailing up to the jut of his hip bone, but he’ll have to wait until his underwear is off to find out. Jaster still spends a minute satiating his curiosity, tracing the lines with his fingers. It’s all connected, storyboards all entwined effortlessly to create a single, beautiful piece. It must have taken an incredible amount of hours, and Jaster suspects it was more than Din’s guess of thirty.
Din twitches and pulls away at first when Jaster loosely curls a hand around his ankle before grasping his foot with the other. Jaster goes to pull back just as Din lowers his foot back into his hold. He trembles as he massages his feet, but Jaster figures it’s because he’s never had it done before. Otherwise, he does not tell him to stop.
Din is freely humming and making little sounds of pleasure now, and Jaster’s dick is stiff in his briefs. His hands are sore, but he works through the discomfort as he goes back up Din’s body once more. Who knows when he might get the opportunity again to have Din so fully stripped and bare before him?
He’s sitting up near Din’s head, loosening the tightness in his neck once more when his lover’s rough voice startles him out of his focus.
“Stop.”
Jaster’s hands are pulling back before the order registers, the strict tone having him instinctively move away. He doesn’t get a chance to ask what’s wrong before Din pushes himself up and throws himself at him. He falls back on the mattress, strong hands grabbing his face, keeping him still as Din swings a leg over him, straddling him with ease. He leans down and kisses him with a demanding fierceness that has Jaster’s body weak and sinking into the bed. The weight of Din’s body is thrilling, his thighs tight against his sides as he pushes him down into the mattress. It’s just as intoxicating when he gets a look at him when Din needs to catch his breath. That pretty face is flushed and his cock is just as hard as Jaster’s, straining against his underwear and begging for attention. There is no question now if Din enjoyed that. The evidence is right there for Jaster to see and the swell of pride he gets from that has him reaching out for more.
He pulls himself up using his abdomen muscles, pushing against Din’s eager mouth until he lets Jaster press their chests together. His arms curl around his trim waist as Jaster hauls him as close as he can get him, mindful of his bruise. Din growls into his mouth as his hand runs through his short hair, the strands locked between his fingers. Jaster can’t help his own moan when Din pulls his head back by his hair, exposing his throat. That alone has him throbbing harder than he ever has in his life and it only grows when those lips latch onto the skin of his neck.
“Oh Din,” He sighs, unable to help it as he sucks the sensitive skin under his ear. There is no place better than where he is right now. How Cobb Vanth, the ridiculous man that he was, had been right was beyond him. Relinquishing control to Din in all the ways he knew had paid off. Jaster tried to remember that Din’s back was obviously bothering him as he pushed his hips up off the bed to roll into him as he pulled Jaster’s head back further to press his tongue flat into the hollow of his throat, licking a hot, wet stripe up the line of muscle.
Din still had a tight grip on his hair as he leaned back enough to lock eyes with him. His hold wasn’t too aggressive, just enough to be a warning. Even still, his hand was cradling his head as he did so and Jaster had no doubt he’d let go if Jaster asked. They were both short of breath, and like usual, Jaster was patient.
“You know,” Din breathes, right before he drops a bombshell on him he’d never considered, “You are the first man I have tasted, and you are absolutely divine. Well worth the wait.”
Jaster huffs a soft breath of surprised laughter, brain short circuiting, “I- Well, if it’s a competition, for all the men I have tasted, you are by far the best.”
Din laughs, that rough sound curling around him as his hand lightly pulls at his hair, “It is not a competition, unless you’d like it to be.”
He ends that by rolling his hips and muscular ass into Jaster’s groin, pulling a rough groan from him. Jaster’s looking at him with determination, and just to test him, Jaster pulls against his grip to try and get another kiss. He didn’t expect to, but there is still satisfaction at the fire that lights in his lover’s eyes as he pulls Jaster’s head back again.
“No. No competition,” Jaster whispers, and Din’s mouth is so close. He’s teasing him, letting Jaster feel his breath and watching his eyes flick down to his parted lips before staring at him again.
“Say it plainly,” Din orders and Jaster can only tell him the truth.
“I want to be your first and only. I want you to be mine and I want to give you all the best and firsts you want me to. I want to be the last.”
There’s a smile that’s growing on his cyare’s face as he rambles. For all he reads and writes, Jaster is no poet in this moment, but Din doesn’t seem to mind. His hands release the grip on his hair and slide to cup his jaw before pulling him in for another kiss. This one, oh, Jaster thinks he could die happily from it. There was none of that desperation and fervour from before, just a tenderness that ached. His hands were cradling his face like he was precious and his lips were so soft, seducing Jaster with his slow, teasing kisses. Jaster did not need to hear Din tell him his answer. This kiss was answer enough.
Jaster is finding he has to give Din a little encouragement for tongue, but now he understands his hesitancy. Still, he coaxes Din into doing it and very quickly it turns into a game of cat and mouse. It’s a testament to how well they work together that almost instantly they’re responding to each other. It dissolves into something passionate and sloppy, both of their desires making them desperate to be closer. Jaster’s wandering hands have settled on gripping Din’s firm ass as he grinds down on him while Din’s are digging into his back and pulling him against his chest.
Din pulls his face far back enough to catch his breath and lock eyes with him again. He loves that Din has no problem making eye contact with him, though it’s taken some time; true to his Hunter’s nature, they are always calculating, always driven and aware, never missing a thing. “I want to taste you again. Will you let me?”
Jaster plays it up by raising an eyebrow. If Din wants him to say things plainly, then he would like the same courtesy. It’s hard for him not to beg at the chance for Din’s pretty mouth sucking him off. No doubt that another memory of Din looking up at him would give him enough fuel to stay hard until he was a hundred. There’s something he wants more than that, that he thinks both of them will enjoy. He knows that it can be an uncomfortable position on the bed, what Din wants to do. Jaster’s cock was long and curved, and it could be uncomfortable for one’s neck on a bed. There’s a thrill in watching Din blush and give him that indignant look at making him spell it out. Jaster’s only going to make it worse for him when he suggests what he wants to do.
“I want to suck you off. Are you going to stop me?”
Well, hello, alor.
“No, sir,” he replied immediately, and the shocked, slack-jawed look on Din’s face had him confident he was headed in the right direction. Especially when it turned into one of lustful determination, Din’s blunt nails digging into his back, “But I have a request.”
Din now got to raise his own eyebrow. Jaster knew his face was heating up and he rushed to get the words out, wanting to know what he thinks, but also wanting to be blunt.
“If you turn around, I can suck you off too.”
His cyare looked innocently confused for about half a second. When it clicked, his eyes widened and he pulled back a bit to search Jaster’s face.
“Too much?” Jaster asked, nervous.
“No,” Din breathed, his face filling with courage, “I- at the same time?”
“Yes,” Jaster replied, hands squeezing his ass again, “I also have another idea.”
“Been thinking about this a lot, have you?”
Jaster blushes and stammers, totally caught.
Din chuckles and bonks his forehead against his, “I am teasing. Tell me.”
“Would you… have you…,” he flounders and Din bonks him again, harder this time and Jaster laughs, “On your side. I mean, I would be behind you, but you would not be trapped in any way. It should be better for your back.”
“Yes,” Din said breathlessly without missing a beat, his hold tightening around Jaster’s body. “I have never trusted one like I have you, Jaster. I’ve been thinking about ways of you fucking me like no one ever has. In ways I thought I would never consider. I think at this point I’d say yes to anything you ask me.”
Jaster’s heart thudded at that, tightening his throat with emotion. That was no meaningless admission, not from Din. That was a huge show of trust, but Jaster would still not rush Din. If he explicitly told him to do something, he’d do it. Otherwise, he was content easing his lover into new things.
He starts by moving his hands to his hips, relishing in Din’s strong arms still wrapped around him. Din only tightens his grip when Jaster slowly leans them both to the side, but he lets him lay him back on the bed and relinquishes his hold. Jaster props himself up on his side so he can lean down and give Din his own tender kiss to remember him by. He tries not to hover over him too much or trap him as he trails kisses down his strong jaw, ghosting breath along his neck to watch the gooseflesh come alive on his skin. That neck is a trap; once he starts, he’ll be stuck on it so he forces himself to move on. He scoots down just enough so he can trail wet, sloppy kisses over his chest, uncaring if it was unmarred or raised scars. There’s heat pooling in his gut from the way Din’s chest is moving from his quickened breathing underneath him, little noises escaping his lips. Jaster exhales over one of his nipples just to see his body shiver and the sound Din makes when he flicks out his tongue before sucking it into his mouth—
The man is so very sensitive, tense from trying not to twitch, but shaking all the same. He wouldn’t be surprised if he just came in his pants, but his erection wasn’t going anywhere— not as long as Din’s unsatisfied before him. His traitorous hand can’t help but touch him, and he pulls back to watch Din’s eyes flutter closed as he lets the tips of his fingers brush up the strong muscles of his chest.
“Jate?” He breathes, not really needing an answer, but wanting an excuse to hear Din’s voice. His ret’riduur’s face is telling enough, with his kiss swollen lips slightly parted in pleasure and the way he’s leaning his head back into the pillows, giving Jaster perfect access to his throat. Trust, indeed. He kisses the tip of his chin, trying to get his attention.
“Mesh’la?” he sing-songs, letting a finger brush over one of his perky nipples. The pectoral muscle twitches under his hand as a breathy sigh passes his lips, and Jaster can’t help but grin when his eyes open, dark and heavy-lidded.
“Jatnese be Jatnese,” he finally replies, trailing his hand down Jaster’s arm to his elbow, which he grabs and uses to pull Jaster closer until he was settled into the crook of Din’s arm and almost half-laying on him. There’s a rush from the memory of their Hunt together, how Din had beckoned him close and then grabbed his hips with purpose, making him press Din into the wall with his body. Now there was no beskar’gam between them, the heat of Din’s bare skin raising his own temperature.
How he smells so delicious as well was beyond Jaster. His natural musk mixed with the smell of gunpowder and smoke, his hair wafting the faint smell of sandalwood. He couldn’t help but nose his way beside the shell of his ear, enjoying how much his pheromones had him wetting the front of his underwear. He breaks down and has a sample, sucking his earlobe into his mouth to get a reaction. Din’s body rolls up into his, a heady whine echoing in the room as his hand grabs his hip. That alone dooms him. The taste of his skin and sweat on his neck was everything Jaster had been waiting for.
Din was so responsive, too, in a way that so many lovers weren’t. The way his hips instinctively jerked when he dragged his teeth over the tendon in his throat, the way his hand threaded back into his hair and tilted his head so Jaster could kiss on his neck, the sinful moan when he let Din feel what it was like for him to have his tongue tasting the long length of his neck. It was hard not to imagine doing all that with Din riding him instead, and if he wasn’t concerned about Din’s back, he would be champing at the bit.
When Jaster came back up to look at his face, he looked even more debauched than before. His curls were mussed like he’d been running his fingers through it and he gave Jaster such a shy, dopey smile when they made eye contact he couldn’t help but return it.
“Can I take off your underwear?” he asked, watching his face closely for anything that wasn’t pleasure.
Din gives him a show of his teeth, and Jaster is suddenly certain that all that hesitation is gone. That’s the look of someone getting their way and Jaster is eager to please him.
“You first, verd. I want to watch.”
Jaster would never deny an order from Din, especially not here in the bedroom. Jaster gives him another quick heated kiss before pulling away to pull off his own briefs. Sure enough, his cock is straining to press against his belly, swollen and red and leaking at the tip. Those wide, pretty brown eyes are glued to it as Jaster can’t help the cheeky smile, a burst of confidence giving way to him teasing Din.
“Like what you see, alor?” He says as his hands reach out to grab Din’s underwear to pull them down. Din lifts his bum and legs so he can throw them behind him, eyes only on watching the way his face turns just as mischievous as he is obviously hot and bothered by the title. The way he licks his lips and crooks his finger at him tells him he likes it.
“Get up here, Jaster, and show me what you’re made of.”
Well, if that didn’t light a fire under his ass, he didn’t know what could. As soon as they’re level, Din’s hands grab him and flip them again, perfectly maneuvered so he’s on top and pressing their hips together. Jaster can only let out a strangled moan, pulled out of him as Din’s skilled hands wrap around them both. His cock is just as hot and hard against his own and the sneaky man must have gotten a hand in his oil because his grip is slick as he twists his hands.
“Fuck, mesh’la, look at you,” Jaster gasps, hands grabbing Din’s waist and sliding them down the strong muscles in his thighs. His weight in his lap again is all he’s really wanted, enjoying the way Din takes control. Holding on for the ride is all he can do as Din strokes them off together. He’s gasping these little noises that surely have Jaster spitting all over his hand and he’s biting his own lip to quiet himself, wanting to hear as much of him as he can. Those moans are as genuine as his expression, that borderline tension of pleasure pulling his eyebrows together while his pretty pink lips are in a perfect pout that he just wants to kiss. Eventually, he can’t help himself from speaking. Din’s hands are nearly wet from all the precum they’re both leaking and he’s too focused on the heads of their cocks for Jaster to remain silent.
“Din, if you keep this up—”
Din leaned his forehead against Jaster’s and slowed his pace, stroking their base with more of a teasing rhythm. It worked in bringing that rapid boil down to a simmer, his body no longer tense with restraint.
“I have another request,” Jaster asks, breathless with need.
“Tell me what you want, handsome, and I’ll try to make it happen,” Din says, way more talkative than Jaster ever expected. He likes it, the desire lining his voice, how he compliments with such sincerity it has him weak.
“Would you like it if I prep you while I suck you off?” he asks.
Din answers without any pause, face lighting up with a fond smile that has butterflies fluttering in his stomach. One of Din’s hands reaches behind him to put the jar within Jaster’s reach and this is happening, Din wants him to do this.
“Elek.”
He gives Jaster one long searching look, a crooked nervous smile and proceeds to turn around. Din’s a tall man just like he is and they fit together like a blade to its sheath. After Din gets comfortable and shifts so he can grip him and easily guide Jaster into his mouth, his beautiful thick cock is hanging right over Jaster’s face.
“Is this okay?” The God of a man above him asks, breath ghosting along his shaft. Jaster shivers and tries to focus on getting his fingers well coated in oil.
“This is perfect. Do you mind if I get straight to business? I don’t think I’ll last very long having your mouth on me with your perfect cock down my throat. You remember how I like it, yes?”
“Oh Jaster, how could I forget? I had no idea what it could be like. Go ahead, I want to see what it’s like to do the same to you again. Plus, from this direction, I get to watch you curl your toes.”
Jaster chuckles, dripping a bit of oil off his fingers down Din’s crack. Din’s body twitches, his hand gripping Jaster’s base tighter in response. All he can see through the space between their bodies is his chin and a curtain of hair, making the anticipation almost hurt.
Jaster growled with a bitten off yell when the wet heat of Din’s mouth enveloped him, and the man was not shy about Jaster’s length, taking him as deep as he could right off the bat. His hand worked him as he got used to taking him deeper and deeper. The dumb expectation that Din would go at it meekly was thrown right out the window. This man was a warrior with what he wanted in his sights. He was going to get it without delay, prior experience be damned.
Jaster had to focus. Letting Din hear his unrestricted moans and encouragement was a priority because he could not see him, up until he got his fingers positioned over his even tighter hole. That’s when he allowed himself to lead Din’s thick, heavy-hanging cock into his mouth. Sucking the tip to get all of his flavour that he could had Din’s hips thrusting into his mouth and Jaster hummed as he opened his jaw more, embracing that blissful feeling of him filling his throat. It was almost too much when Din sucked him harder, laving him with his tongue in retaliation. Manda, his balls felt tight with the pressure of the orgasm that was in his horizons, and it was hard to stay on track.
He let his oil-coated middle finger press lightly against Din’s entrance until Din relaxed his body enough for it to slide in. His arm was in a slightly awkward position to make the spot he was looking for easy to find, but he pressed on with determination.
There were so many things to focus on, his brain was spinning with need. Din was so hot and tight as he worked his finger inside of him, and he could feel the way he clenched around him as Jaster moved his head, taking his cock in time with stretching him open. Meanwhile, Din was working him with an enthusiasm that made him all the hotter and more competitive. Gagging did not deter Din, until he eventually learned the trick. Jaster was impressed it took him so little time to perfect exhaling out of his nose and relaxing his throat.
He had to pull Din out of his mouth so he could throw his head back into the bed and let out a strangled groan, sucking in air. Din’s one hand slid down to cup his balls as Din let him hit the back of his throat, and then further, and then more until Jaster could feel his moustache tickling his balls. Jaster writhed underneath him as he swallowed and sucked, keeping his word and letting Jaster feel what it was like.
All he could do was put Din’s cock back into his mouth to stifle his noises, huffing for air through his nose. He gets another finger well oiled and worked it in with his middle, scissoring them as well as continuing to look for the right angle to brush his fingers over that perfect spot—
Din’s body jerked above him, a sound reverberating deep in his chest and vibrating Jaster’s cock from the intensity. Jaster made the same motion with his fingers, and Din did it again, his muscle squeezing Jaster’s fingers in response as he thrust his hips uncontrollably, sliding deeper down Jaster’s throat. Jackpot.
It doesn’t take long now that he’s found it. Din’s body is welcoming him at this point, and he’s managed to finally distract Din enough he’s just teasing Jaster, losing his own ferocity in distraction of his building pleasure. Jaster does not blame him; he’s sucking on him now with purpose and three fingers buried in his ass, making him twitch senselessly as he teases his prostate. He’s practically milking Din into his mouth, his cum coating his throat in less than a minute.
He’s staying hard despite it. Jaster is not surprised this time. If Din does not get himself off regularly, he’s probably got it all stocked up. The more, the merrier for Jaster. At this moment, he’s just seeing how long Din can take it. It’s not very long before he’s pulling his mouth off of Jaster with a rough yell, hips rolling onto Jaster’s fingers for more. The raspy cries as he fucks back against Jaster’s hand is too much for him to handle.
Lowering his head until Din’s dick falls out of his mouth, he tries to control his breathing as he lets Din cool down. The man’s trying too, anyways, still twitching and rolling his hips and looking for that pressure. Finally he pulls forward enough for his fingers to slide out of him and Din, loose limbed, turns himself back around.
His curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat and his face is flushed and awed. He’s still straddling him and is looking down at Jaster’s leaking cock like he wants to get on, right then and there. Jaster grins, his smell and taste all in his mouth.
“Come lie here, love,” Jaster says, patting the bed beside him, “I’ll spoon you and you tell me if you like it.”
Din does as he asks without complaint, picking the side his bruise isn’t covering. He flops down with a huff, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Jaster rolls over and sighs at the way they fit together so perfectly. Din’s ass settles right in the crook of his hips, Jaster’s cock pulsing with anticipation as it slides in his oiled crack. A hand grasps Din’s hip bone as he grinds back against Jaster, letting them try it out for size. From his back pressed against his chest, all the way to where their knees slot together, they’re as close as they can get. For now, anyway.
“I like it,” Din rasps, “I like this a lot.”
Jaster scrapes his teeth over the top of his shoulder as his hand curls around his cock, just to make sure.
“Oh, you do,” Jaster sighs in relief, giving him a few firm tugs, relishing in how he’s still leaking all over his hand. He can feel the way Din’s body tenses against his as his breath catches in his throat, and the way he rolls his hips back against him has Jaster sliding between his firm cheeks. What a lucky man he is to be where he is right now. Lust and desire have never felt this encompassing. Everything he’s ever felt before seemed like a campfire compared to this roaring wildfire that’s grown far beyond his control. Din only adds to it with his words, giving him more brush to burn by saying everything he wanted to hear come from his mouth.
“It’s you, Jaster,” Din rasped, turning his head so that he’s staring at Jaster through the corner of his eye, back over his shoulder. Jaster’s tongue flicks out, licking and kissing where he’d been biting, staring into the depth of black his iris has become. No matter what Beroya says, his words always have Jaster’s heart thumping against his ribs so hard it almost hurts. This is the kind of hurt he welcomed with open arms, relishing in the feeling that comes from them doing this together, as one. The possessive part of him only gets stronger knowing these words are his and his alone, Din offering them like a gift he snatched up and cherished forever.
“You do this to me,” Din continues, his voice tightening, and without saying, Jaster can hear the implications in the raw emotion he’s telling him this with. This is new territory for him, territory he believed he would not care to travel in. There’s such a thrill in knowing he likes traversing it with him. “Will you show me what I’ve been missing?”
Jaster knows there are no words for the adoration he’s feeling for this man. There is nothing he could say that would convey the depth of his feelings that he hasn’t already said. It does not matter: Din is a Mando’ad and they have always held actions above words. He is the bookworm, the one obsessed with words and their permanency. Din is the opposite, having gotten more lies than truth from people. Jaster does not need to say it, he needs to show him.
Propping himself up higher, he slid his hand up the firm length of Din’s chest until he held his cheek under his palm. His thumb is stroking the line of his cheekbone as he leans down, relishing in the soft, slow movements of their lips. How this man can be such a formidable warrior while kissing him with such tenderness, Jaster does not know. He loves that he can make that soft part of him resurface, showing a side of Din that he never sees outside of him interacting with ade. There are flashes of it when they are alone, but not like this. The hand that can reach behind him caresses any part of Jaster he can reach while he lets Jaster show him how badly he wants him, how much he loves being the man Din chose.
It’s with regret that he pulls back for air, licking his lips and savouring his taste. Din’s looking at him with heavy lidded eyes, his lips plump and red, still parted in expectation. He experimentally tries to follow Jaster as he pulls away, but he grunts as he twists his back too much and he settles back with a pout. Jaster gives him a crooked grin, arousal tingling in his belly from teasing him. His hand has shifted until his thumb can ride along the swollen edge of his bottom lip, that possessive streak taking hold with the knowledge he has this warrior right where he’s wanted him.
“You like it,” Din rasps, and his voice has changed. Jaster doesn’t know if it is because he has become so trusting, letting his guard down for Jaster, or if in the haze of pleasure he didn’t notice that his accent was lilting, losing its hard, meticulous edge. Almost just like it had when he had sung that pretty language when Jaster had sucked him off the first time, like when he had shown Cobb his own accent and birth tongue. More, is all his brain was thinking, I want to hear more of his beautiful voice. Din does not disappoint, throwing him a curved knife and asking him a question that makes him slightly hesitant to answer because he doesn’t know how Din will take the truth. That’s not even the most throwing part.
“You like having control over me, don’t you, Jas’ika?”
Jaster’s hips grind into Din without any control from him, fire lighting his body in a hot sweat. He never would have guessed the diminutive nickname he hadn’t heard since he was an ad would have him so fired up. Coming out of Din’s mouth, it is alluring and sexy, and it grinds every thought that isn’t purely Din to a complete halt. He has to comment on that, his voice halfway wrecked, just to get his bearings to address the question. He presses his dick more firmly into Din, gripping his hip and pulling him against him so he could feel his length hard and wanting.
“Do I feel little to you, Beroya?”
“Right now, you are all bark, no bite.” Din snarked.
Jaster snarled playfully, biting at his shoulder and curling his fingers tighter into his slim waist. His tone contradicts this, soft with honesty.
“Yes, I like the control. You are a distinguished hunter and warrior. Any control you give me is an honour.”
“Then take it for the night,” Din rasps, and Jaster can hardly believe his ears. He almost shakes his head like maybe they’re clogged, or maybe he’s actually in the most realistic wet dream, but Din continues to blow his mind, “Do not flip me on my back, but I want you to show me in your way.”
“You mean this?” Jaster asks, propping himself up higher again so he can look Din dead in the face. His expression is so open, so relaxed as he looks up at Jaster with such blatant love. Suddenly, all doubt left him. Any lingering, tainted thoughts that Din didn’t care about Jaster the way he cared about him, or if he truly loved him. That expression plus him giving Jaster an access to his body that he has never allowed anyone puts him at ease.
At the same time, he’s never felt so undeserving of such permission, but never more grateful that he has it. As far as he knows, Din has always remained in control of his sexual experiences, otherwise the other was dead. Din had told him he brandished a dagger in bed to maintain it and he was no stranger to using it. That alone tells him how much he trusted anybody else he’d ever been with.
He needs to hear Din be more explicit as much as he wants him to. An idea comes to him and he follows it without question. As much as he loves the control he is given by Din, he equally loves him having control over Jaster. He is torn between both and he has a quick solution.
“Give me an order, alor,” he says, meaning it with everything he had.
Din’s eyes light up again, a flint of steel flashing through them. His hand snakes up and grabs his jaw; Jaster knows he’s keeping in mind what he’d said about choking, gripping his cheeks like he would a throat. Din’s strong fingers squeeze just a bit, flaring up a slight ache, reminding him of how Din stretched his mouth earlier. He’s got all of his attention now, his fingers keeping his face firmly turned in his direction.
“I want you to fuck me like I’m yours, Jaster. Hold me like I’m yours, talk to me like I’m yours, love me like I am yours because I already am. Up to the challenge, verd? I’ll most definitely fight you just for fun.”
“I am always up for a challenge, especially if it’s you,” Jaster says, swallowing the tightness that’s closing his throat. How did this man manage to weave everything Jaster wanted to hear into simplicity, each word a barb that stuck with him? Din’s hand is still holding his face, but his grip is slacking and he pulls Jaster close enough to kiss him. Jaster, greedy for a taste, goes to push his tongue into Din’s mouth to meet his, but his lover pulls back, snagging Jaster’s upper lip between his teeth. A guttural moan comes from deep in his chest as Jaster is forced to follow him or draw blood.
His hand slides down and grabs the meaty muscle of his tattooed thigh, squeezing it in cheap retaliation. Din only huffs in laughter, but doesn’t let go. Oh, he wants to play dirty, does he?
Jaster’s hand snakes up, brushing close to Din’s swollen cock just to feel him tense under him until he could grasp one of his perky nipples between his forefinger and thumb, rolling it tightly between his fingers. Jaster was rewarded with a surprised shout, his lip finally released. He gets to laugh now at Din’s incredulous face as Jaster reluctantly lets go to snake his hand between them to give his own cock some aching attention. Forcing himself to stroke slowly, he makes sure Din can feel the head of him as he slides it between his cheeks, letting his precum wet him even more.
“Are you going to make me wait all night, Jas’ika?” Din growls, grinding back against him and almost forcing Jaster to slip in. He has to lower his head back to Din’s bare shoulder, biting the skin between his teeth. Oh, how that name has him burning. It makes him all that more determined to show Din how little he was. His hand lets go and searches blindly on the bed for that oil jar.
He doesn’t know how he managed to unscrew the lid one handed, dip his fingers in and then close it with slick fingers, but he manages. His oil-dripping hand is back between them before Din can start complaining again, making sure he was well coated base to tip. Not wanting the rest of it to go to waste, he eases three fingers back into Din’s tight hole for a little revenge.
He bites his teeth in harder when Din jerks away, listening as his moan turns into a growl from the slight pain. There was always that split second of doubt before Din, always, pushed back into it. He always paid him back, Din grabbing him with a bruising grip, pulling his hair, pinning him against things. This time, he gets him in the old wound in the middle of his thigh that’s been sore. He’s sliding his fingers down the muscle in the back of his leg, pressing into the long line of tension and pushing Jaster closer to him at the same time. Jaster can’t help but moan from the relief and thoughtfulness disguised as retaliation.
Jaster loved how Din pushed hard back against his hand, rolling his hips so Jaster’s fingers slid further into him. Jaster opened his mouth, releasing his skin and licking at the red indents he’d made in his shoulder. He does not stop that practiced motion of his fingers, relishing in how his lover is twitching against him almost head to toe.
“Are you ready for how I’m going to set the pace? Will I have to hold you still?” Jaster rasped, reminiscent of how Din spoke to him the first time they were intimate. In a way, he was asking for permission. If Din was going to continue to push back like that, he’d be done in minutes. He wanted to take his time, let Din feel the entire length of him bit by bit. Din had called him blessed. He was determined to show him at his own pace. He wanted to make Din cum without him even touching his cock. Jaster knows he can do it, if he’s given the time.
“Yes,” Din bites out, and it’s so needy Jaster believes it without complaint. With purpose and a steady hand, he pulled his fingers out before guiding the head of his cock back to that wet heat. He’s pushing in just enough for Din to feel his swollen tip and he grabs Din’s hip right before he can push back and slide him in further.
“Easy now, sweetheart. We’re doing this my way, remember? And don’t even think about touching yourself,” he orders, pushing Din’s body away from him as he barely slides in and out using his hips, giving him no more than an inch or two. Din whines at the feeling of him teasing his entrance, or maybe because Jaster is ordering him around. It’s a nice sound that has his cock twitching inside him, everything so perfect as his tight ring of muscle squeezes the most sensitive part of him. Din’s body eventually stops pushing back so much against his hand, and he smiles that Din is letting him do it his way. What an honour.
Good deeds deserve a reward, so Jaster latches his lips onto the back of Din’s neck, nosing a few strands of dark curls out of his way. There are fewer scars here, thin from lucky blades, under his mouth as he sucks hard enough to leave a dark hickey. While his cyare is distracted by that, he gathers all his self control to slowly inch his way into his body. Din’s moan tapered off into that rhythmic language, sounding like he was singing Jaster’s praises. He would say he knew quite a few languages himself, being the bookworm that he was, but the fact Din knew even more just made him more alluring. He takes his sweet ass time to bottom out just to feel Din grip every bit of him. Din is clearly cussing him out now as he slides out just as slow, he knows that even before he abruptly switches back to Basic.
“Fuck Jaster, do you know how long I have wanted your big cock to fill me? I have had dreams about it, woken up stiff and having to rush to the ‘fresher to jack myself off.”
Jaster was midway of starting to inch his way back in when he said that and he couldn’t restrain the tiny twitch of his hips as he jerked back into him, his balls slapping against his ass with a lewd noise. Din’s voice cracked with his shout this time, and he pushed back against Jaster’s hold to wind his hips in a motion that had Jaster growling. He can already tell Din is wet with more than just oil, Jaster contributing a fair bit.
“Beroya,” he warned, shimmying his trapped arm free until it could reach up to twirl Din’s long curls around his fingers and pull his head back enough Jaster could trail sloppy kisses down his jaw. His other hand did not let up either, keeping Din still as he eased his way out of him. He knows the tantalizing feeling of having the head of a cock massage his prostate at this slow tempo, and the waiting, the pressure, the glide over that perfect spot, the filling heat—
Jaster has been waiting to do this, dreamt about him too. Dreamt about finally being able to show this fantastic hunter he could, and would, fuck him like the warrior he is. Din had said it, all those months ago, about Jaster doing so. About waiting for him, and now Jaster can finally fulfill that wish. That doesn’t mean Jaster isn’t going to take his time to savour him and this moment together. He understands Din’s breathless pleading in a myriad of languages in between unrestrained moaning as he slides over the right spot. Jaster can’t help his own grunts as Din flexes around him, the only thing he can do as Jaster keeps him still. His body is tight from resisting the urge to pick up speed, but he focuses on his memory of how Din had fucked Jaster’s mouth with such patience, that very first time. Determined to emulate that, he distracts himself by whispering filth into Din’s ear. It’s only fair, after Din has made him cum once before with nothing but.
“I’ve been thinking about this since you complimented me. No fear at all about my size, just eagerness. I should have expected nothing less from you. You’re taking all of me like a champ, cyar’ika, you feel so good.”
Din’s making these rhythmic little ah’s that match Jaster’s rhythm and are only getting louder as he slowly picks up speed, the sweat building up on their bodies. Jaster thinks he might have cum five minutes ago and is staying hard through pure will. He’s so damn hot and tight, there’s precum dripping down his balls and he can see how wet Din’s belly has become from his own leaking cock.
“Listen to you, you are so beautiful. Do you want to know a secret, mesh’la? I’ve been dreaming about you as well. About your thick cock stretching me open and filling me. Any way, any time you want to fuck me with that lovely cock of yours, it is game on. I’ve been thinking it nonstop since you said it.”
“Ah, ah gar serim Jaster, right there! I- oh, Jaster. Just say the word.”
Jaster cannot deny him with words like that, finding that spot Din has been itching for and focusing on it. He wants to get Din as close as he can to the edge before he fucks him with gusto, waiting for him to almost be begging for it. He will not make him, but he will ride it out as long as he can. His own breathing is growing ragged, getting worse as he listens to the sound their bodies make together, smell their scents mixing, hearing Din crying out his name for more.
“Dinui,” Jaster gasps out, not even sure where the nickname is coming from but knowing it fits right. The word fits better molded to Din’s name, and he is a gift. “I want you to come without touching yourself. Can you do that, ner dinui?”
“For you, yes. Yes, Jaster,” Din gasps, turning his head until Jaster gives him a sloppy kiss, swallowing down his hoarse cries. He’s drowning in the taste of him, in how he’s letting his tongue dance with his, that he doesn’t notice his grip has loosened until Din is pushing back roughly until there is no more of him to take.
Jaster near shouts, except Din is kissing it from his mouth before it can echo in the room, “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing,” he whispers against his lips with a burn of determination. One hand is still trapped in his curls as he yanks his head back, his other hand leaving Din’s hip in favour of teasing his nipple again, letting Din try to push back more even as Jaster pulls his hips away.
He doesn’t tease him this time. Jaster wants to hear those sounds of Din’s ring out in the room, so he lets his hips snap forward and wastes no time doing it again, quickly setting up a fast and hard pace. Din is leaking all of Jaster’s cum over them both and his cock is throbbing as he fucks into him with sudden desperation. His orgasm is sneaking up on him and he’s not sure how he’s going to keep it at bay. Especially with Din crying out—
“Gar serim, yes, oh I will. I will. Don’t pull out, Jaster. Please, don’t. Will you do that for me, Jas’ika? Gedet’ye?”
Jaster’s own moans are unrestrained as he listens to Din, pulling him closer to the edge with his words. Him asking for Jaster to cum inside him is almost too much, the permission, the near begging for it. Jaster cannot deny him something he also wants so badly.
“Yes, ner dinui, whatever you want. Like this?”
The man nods frantically before breaking back off into possibly the most arousing noises, crying out in time as he fucks back against Jaster’s thrusts. What a treat that a quiet man like himself would be so loud in bed and the way he looks for his own pleasure from Jaster’s body has him thrilled and ambitious to give it to him. The slapping sound that it makes echo in the room, louder than their moans and it releases something in both of them. Suddenly, they’re both letting one another hear each other with more volume, speaking up while the sound of their bodies meeting drowns it out. The rhythmic smacks have Jaster feeling filthy, but in the best way. He knew that the way Din pushed and rolled his hips with expert precision against him would have him close in no time, but he couldn’t stop until Din’s cum was painting his toned chest and Jaster’s sheets.
He keeps the pace with strength he prayed for, knowing that the last time he’d been with a man like this had been a long time ago, and no one had ever aroused Jaster as much as Din does. Jaster kept snapping his hips into Din until he’d be almost yelling if his voice wasn’t so raspy, Jaster biting his own lip from doing the same. He wanted so bad to just reach down and jerk him off, but watching his face twist in pleasure as he fucked into him with purpose? Jaster couldn’t. His own voice was getting more hoarse than normal, and Jaster was getting desperate looking at his beautiful face, staring at him with eyes full of need.
Finding that spot again took a moment, especially with Din eager to just fuck him silly, but eventually he clicked in to what Jaster was doing. He did not need the entire length of him to stimulate his prostate, so he found it by watching Din’s face until the swollen head of his cock rubbed against it.
“There it is, mesh’la. I’m going to fuck you there until there isn’t any cum left in you,” he told him with a confidence that he felt down in his soul. Din’s panting his name in between whines for more, and he’d look absolutely fucked out of his mind if there wasn’t that determined glint in his eye as he stares Jaster down. It’s torture as Din moves against him, so Jaster lets him tease himself before Jaster is working his cock in and out of him in quick, short thrusts. Din’s breath is caught in his throat as his swollen head targets that sensitive spot inside him. Din’s squeezing the life out of him, body taut under his hands, and Jaster thinks he knows it’s coming before Din does. Pistoning his hips relentlessly, he urges Din with whispered words, watching as his face changes into one border-lining pain.
Din valiantly tries to hold on, but that much focused attention would have had Jaster caving in ages ago. With a choked back yell and sudden jerking of his hips, Din’s cock streams cum, smattering white up his abs and chest—
Jaster’s hand shot out, gripping him tight as he fucked him harder through it, ready to follow him and give him his wish, matching the pace with his hand. It took only a few moments with Din gripping him so tight through his orgasm that had him tipping into his own, feeling the way he fills him up. Din is still moaning desperately as his body thrusts back against him and it’s with surprise that he realizes Din’s still cumming, still hard and searching for more.
Jaster has no idea where the energy comes from, maybe it’s because it would be against his nature to leave Din unsatisfied, left wanting. He could possibly attribute it to all the masturbating he’s been doing with Din constantly in his mind. The night may be young, but Din’s cock is still hard in his hand and Jaster has not gone completely soft inside him. He bites his lip through the oversensitivity, fights through the urge to slow down as he mashes their mouths together, teeth clattering in a desperate, sloppy kiss. He has to distract himself with something other than how tight and wet Din feels, full of his cum as Jaster continues to fuck into him. Din is crying out into his mouth with every deep thrust of his hips, determined to drive home until Din tells him to stop.
He stops jerking him off, not wanting to rub him raw as he grips his thigh tight instead, panting against his mouth as he gives him the best he’s got. If he made him cum once with no hands, he can do it again. His nerves are lighting on fire and the movement of his hips is growing more erratic as his body sings from the stimuli. Din had bragged about watching him curl his toes; if only he could see them now, bent flat against his soles.
Din’s cries are growing louder and louder, he can hear them over the sound of the wet slap of their bodies meeting. Jaster’s whispering loving nonsense to him, not quite sure what he was saying other than encouragement as he feels Din’s body begin to shake again. The feeling of the strong muscles in his inked thigh flexing under his hand, the way Din’s lower legs have wrapped around his calves, feet keeping them locked together from the knees down, the way his cum is being fucked out of him. He’s singing out in pleasure, now back to what Jaster suspects is his native tongue with his natural accent. Jaster can’t say anything of intelligence listening to that beautiful melody, every part of his body electrified at the sound.
Din doesn’t take much more of Jaster fucking into him with desperation, willing him to have the best orgasm of his life with every snap of his hips. After a few more, Jaster feels Din’s body shudder against his, violent shaking that even wracks his abrupt shout that tapered off into loud begging that wrung in Jaster’s ears like bells.
“Rohak! I yield, oh Jaster, fuck I yield!”
The magic words. Jaster groaned at being able to finally slow his pace, holding Din tight to his chest as his body twitches as his second orgasm ripped through him with a vengeance. Jaster could hardly believe he was getting to witness another one so soon, pleased that he had the endurance to even still be teasing Din through it. He’s forced to stop when Din’s hand shoots out behind him to grab Jaster by the ass to make him quit moving. His cyare’s heaving chest is painted with more cum than he’s seen from a man in one session. Din’s still rasping incomprehensible words and probably would be for a while, Jaster thought with a grin.
Instead, he plays with his neck, getting a new dose of the sweat that has built up there. There’s a thrill knowing that Din walks around fully kitted, everywhere he goes. No one will ever see just how many hickeys Jaster can get, anywhere he wants. Din’s body is finally losing its tremors, only wracking through him sporadically. Eventually, his lover starts speaking in a language that he can understand.
“Oh, Jas’ika… Did you really… How did you do that?” Din asks, breathless and threaded with adoration.
Jaster leans down with a genuine smile that was so wide it made his cheeks hurt, kissing the tip of Din’s nose, “You’re going to have to be more specific, ner dinui.”
“You came, Jaster, I felt it. You kept going through it. I’ve never felt a man do that before.”
His smile grew impossibly wider, smug with hearing Din say it. “Because you needed me to. You weren’t done. Don’t count yourself short, I’m pretty sure you came twice. Or maybe that was just one, big runaway orgasm.”
Din’s glowing face reddened even more, and Jaster felt his own soften with fondness. There was nothing for him to be embarrassed about; if anything, that was the most intense sex he’s ever had, and definitely the most rewarding. Din should be proud, just like how Jaster is feeling. He’s never felt so accomplished bringing a man off, and he couldn’t say he’d ever done it twice in a row like that. The exhaustion that was pulling at him had nothing on the passion still coursing through him. Give him five, and he’d be ready again if Din asked him. Jaster tells him so, knowing Din deserved to hear just how incredible that was.
“Starlight, I have never had sex like that. I have certainly never done that before, either. It is what you do to me. I feel a decade younger than my years. Osik, maybe two. And you, you were just incredible. You deserve to cum like that, just like right now you deserve a warm washcloth, if you’d like? Or do you want another round? I can do that too, alor.”
Din’s face opened up like a lone cloud blocking the warm rays of the sun passed. Finally, were his words getting through his thick skull? Jaster could understand the habits of the solo, dangerous life he has lived so far. That doesn’t mean he didn’t underestimate how much reiterating it would take to get Din to believe him. Half the time, he thinks Din believes Jaster tells him things just to trick him, or is talking in opposites.
“A washcloth sounds nice. Can you give me another first, first?” Din asks, fluttering his eyelashes and they laughed softly together at how silly it was. Din did not bother waiting for Jaster to give permission, showing how comfortable he was becoming. “Stay right where you are and hold me awhile?”
Jaster automatically leaned down and kissed him, relishing in the soft sigh that escaped his lips as he opened up beneath him. For a man who had gone his life without kissing, he was remarkably welcoming, rising above his inexperience with patience and a passion to learn. As for his request? Done and done. When Din lowers his head for breath, his eyelids are fluttering closed as Jaster settles back and begins peppering his back with kisses. Looping an arm around him and keeping his back firmly pressed against his chest is as easy as breathing. When they fit together like they were made for it, Jaster cannot complain. They both get to giggle together as Jaster finally begins to soften inside him and once the sweat is starting to feel cold on their skin, he reluctantly pulls out to get said warm washcloth. He rinses himself off in the sink as fast as he can before coming back to clean his beloved. Din hadn’t moved.
“Fall asleep?” he called lightly, just in case he really had.
“No, just… don’t want to get this everywhere.”
Jaster scoffed, “Oh, who cares? I’ll wash it tomorrow. Kids won’t be bothering us anytime soon. Not with them on their adventure with your vod.”