[POLITICAL AIDE AU]

[homosexuals]

AKA MATT BOMERCEPTION

a diplomat is a person who can tell you to go to hell in such a way that you actually look forward to the trip.

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[hymen]

[ he's aware of a few things. one, the fiery drag of hawk's tongue across his palm. two, the fact that hawk hasn't actually left yet, even if he's still fully clothed, still upright, still not sharing the bed. three, that it's an objectively bad idea if hawk does get in bed with him.

in this moment, he doesn't care. tomorrow, he might. ]

For the record — [ his breath huffs out of him as his wet hand wraps around his yearning cock, dark hair disheveled as he squirms erratically on the bed to wiggle his pants just so, freeing himself. ] I'm not listening to you. I was doing this anyway.

[ he is not taking orders from hawkins fucking fuller. in fact, he's not taking orders from anyone ever again, because he'd tried with ash and failed spectacularly. he isn't meant to be anyone's submissive. he isn't meant to be anyone's anything. ash had clocked him with scathing accuracy that night so many years ago in prague. he's sebastian flyte, meant to die drunk and alone. it seemed romantic at the time, and now it just seems sad.

his free hand snakes out, clumsily landing at hawk's hip. the heel of his palm drags down, past the neat folds of his trousers, right to the fork of his thighs, where he confirms his suspicions. ]

You can probably still go find that girl. [ he digs a blunt nail down the seam of hawk's fly, tracing the line of growing hardness he feels there. ] You can't have me.

[homosexuals]

'Course you were.

[it's the kind of placating tone one uses with a delusional child - sure you'll be president one day honey, yes santa claus is real. embry's not taking an order, jacking off alone and bitter was always the plan coming to the most elite sex club this side of the us, if not the world. even the most well behaved of boys have their slip-ups, though hawk is trying desperately not to think about the perplexed fissure between tim's brows in confusion the first time he'd given an order before realization sunk in and he'd scrambled to comply. this is decidedly not that - something tells him embry would sooner bite off his dick than jump at an order without proper incentive.

you can't have me, and that just makes hawk's dick twitch harder, gaze harder as he lets embry take his time feeling him out without more than a lazy flutter of his lips in another amused smirk.]

You know, blondes aren't really my thing.

[they're absolutely not. dark hair, pretty faces, boyish builds and corded muscle - he'll take that any goddamn day of the year. but having embry now would be a colossal mistake for their personal and professional relationship. not to mention he's drunk and might have some feelings about that in the morning - not exactly the kind of predicament hawk needs in his life now or ever. risk mitigation already failed in coming here, he might as well kiss his future promotion somewhere sunny and european goodbye if he sticks around now.

and yet.

he takes a step back to keep embry's wandering hand at bay, instead leaning down and reaching to wrap around the hand still lazily stroking at his cock. very carefully he moulds his own around it, slowing it down and applying more pressure with a torturous twist of his wrist at the tip. his voice is low, a molten murmur that would be better pressed against the shell of his ear to watch him shudder with it.]

Wouldn't dream of it.

You're just playing with yourself, that's all.

[hymen]

[ it's confusing in his bitterly dreamy haze of liquor and lust, the sudden absence of hawk's dick combined with the sudden pressure at his own. maybe hawk really does remember only exactly as much as embry does, a powerful but fragmented impression of violently stellar sex. maybe it really was just a slip. maybe hawkins fuller wishes for the past to remain just that, and embry should take a page out of his terrible book and stop flaying himself on the memory of ash's malice and love.

a breathy moan whispers past his teeth, the dark stain of his lashes fluttering shut as his hips rock into hawk's palm. it feels like nothing is separating them, like his own hand isn't even there. he imagines his straining cock squeezed right in hawk's unforgiving fingers even as he squeezes himself tight to prolong the fantasy, his other — now empty — hand curling into the sheets when it would rather be unzipping hawk's fly. ]

I know.

[ his mind is wandering to all sorts of carnal, filthy places, like hawk crawling between his legs and taking him into the serpentine heat of his mouth. ash used to make him really, really work to get his dick sucked, but god, it was fucking worth it every single time, and he hates that he's thinking about it now, because he's pathetically hard and practically weeping into his palm over absolutely nothing as if he's never, ever had sex before in his life. he loosens his grip on his cock and curls his fingers, hawk's hand like a shell around him. ]

Can you — [ he chest rises around a breath, his thumb stroking the edge of hawk's finger before slowly sliding back, damp fingers circling hawk's wrist. he holds him there for a tenuous moment, embry's heartbeat hammering in his ears but somehow only feeling the barest flutter of hawk's pulse against the pad of his thumb. his mouth stubbornly refuses to form the word please without being beaten, bitten, or ridden into submission. ] Hawk —

[ he switches their places, curling his trembling fingers over hawk's, tension spinning through him when he presses hawk's palm against his aching cock. a little mewl escapes him before his throat bobs in a hard swallow. ]

Harder. [ christ, even when giving an order it sounds like he's fucking begging. his fingers slide down to hawk's wrist again, the ghost of a touch, unsure and tender at once. ] You know how. The way you like it.

[homosexuals]

[sometimes it's good to take a moment and celebrate when his intuition pays off. he'd been 50/50 if embry would sock him in the face for a brazen assumption or mouth off in his favor. instead he gets something unexpected altogether - like the flip of a switch from that fiery, defensive and stubbornly self-destructive defiance to something that much more luscious, docile almost in the way he realizes he craves what hawk is offering after all. quite frankly, maybe he even needs it. and who would hawk be to deny him when he's asking so sweetly? the memories of that night aren't as hazy for him as they might be embry - no he wasn't stone cold sober, but he wasn't strung out on top of pleasantly blitzed from too much whiskey to drive away the pictures of tim's broken heart cracked in half between his hands.

he remembers the way embry bit at him, vicious enough to make hawk work for it. slamming that lithe body up against the pretty penny of wall paneling in some expensively convenient hotel, feeling those legs wrapping around him and the swell of his ass goading him with every grind to get his dick out and fuck him into submission. done and done - hands fisted in his hair, pretty face pressed up against filigree patterns with embry bent in half and fucked hard enough to leave bruises against his slim hips. he'd broken his own rule that night - not satisfied with just one round, another in the bed that had sheets with a sinful thread count. his clean exit was a little muddied that night, and at the time he'd just chalked it up to more stress to blow off, the loss of something that had been the most consistent thing in his life second only to his own hand.

his attention is rapt on the way the change envelopes embry - the softness of his touch, as if unsure, and christ, the noise spilling from his lips - his thumb lifts in a moment of exceedingly rare fondness to stroke against his wrist lightly from where he's reversed their positions.]

Yeah, I know exactly how. I gotcha - c'mere.

[his fist squeezes around embry, neither hard nor light nor rewarding - a wordless command, just wait as his other arm lightly pushes him upwards into a brief upright position, only so he can knee up onto the bed and replace the pillow, propping embry up against his chest. it gives him that much better of a view - his face, his leaking cock, and it lets him nose in hot against that perfect jawline and up against the shell of his ear, a warm exhale against it as he settles in comfortably. much better.

slowly his thumb shifts again, pressing firm against the tip and dragging the blunt edge of a nail through the pearly stickiness of his slit and down the tender line of his sensitive frenulum. there's a breathy laugh, enough of a bite to it that he's not gone totally soft as his fist finally curls against his thick shaft with just the right amount of pressure and pumps him in quick succession without warning.]

Christ, look at you. So fucking wet already.

You know, if you think I'm gonna let you cum easy, Embry - think again.

[hymen]

[ it's not what he's expecting, but then hawk vacillates between steady and surprising so often that maybe he should have been. he's a solid weight at his back, their clothes rustling, the heat of hawk's breath soaking his hair. it's better like this, hawk's grip more intimate, more relentless, though embry doesn't feel less vulnerable in this state, even if he's had plenty of practice being held by another man.

it's not hawk's maleness that bothers him, but the mysterious fucking unknown of all of this, that embry talks to all of his other partners and specifically works out who's going to be fucking who, and it's usually embry on top — except for when it came to ash, who toppled him into the dirt and has kept him there ever since, but that's not relevant right now. what's relevant is hawk's torturous touch, dragging a shudder out of him, that hawk is jacking his sensitive cock hard enough that he could spill in under a minute — but everything that comes out of his mouth makes embry remember that he's a goddamn asshole. ]

Shut up. [ embry squirms, caught like a fucking rabbit in a trap. it's impossible to miss the gleam of wetness slicking hawk's fingers, or his wrenching desire to lick them clean. ] You didn't even want to come here.

[ the accusation is leveled in a strained voice, between puffs of breath. he didn't want to come here and he sure as hell hadn't given much evidence in the way of wanting this before this precise moment. maybe it's all a game to hawk, and unfortunately his fingers feel too good for embry to care.

he tilts his head back, nestling in the crook of hawk's shoulder, throat bobbing in a hard swallow. should he beg? christ, he wants to, he just wants to fucking cum, but instead of speaking he tilts his mouth to lick a hungry stripe along the side of hawk's throat. ]

The faster you let me — [ his breath comes damp and hot against hawk's skin, his pleasure-addled brain trying to strike a bargain. ] The faster I can get you off, too.