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"Jason, inside, inside, inside-!"
Jason's gone still above him, one hand braced in the sheets beside Tim's head, the other gripping Tim's hip hard enough to bruise. His cock rests against Tim's cunt, dragging up and down through the wet mess of him every time one of them moves impatiently. The head slides across his clit, almost slips where Tim wants him, then pulls away with the shift of Jason's hips.
Normally, he'd stick two fingers inside him first, sometimes three. He'd open him slowly, watching Tim's folds part slick around his knuckles, watching his hole clench and loosen and beg without words. He'd say something obscene, make Tim want to hide his face and spread his legs wider at the same time. Then, finally, he'd make sure to watch when he finally pushes in, his hand firm on Tim's thigh, eyes dark when the first inch pops in.
But Jason isn't looking there.
He's looking at the mark.
The tattoo is located on Tim's abdomen, starting just below his belly button. It curls there in elegant lines, too pretty for how lewd it is. Two hooked lines frame his lower belly, their ends tapering into little barbed points. At the centre, there's a small heart that ends with a sharp stroke dropping straight down. It disappears at the line of soft hair, pointing toward Tim's cunt like an arrow.
Jason drags his thumb over it.
Tim clenches around nothing.
The tattoo is temporary. Tim found it on the internet the other day, liked the design, and quickly ordered a stencil. When he put it on to test it out, it came out a little crooked, a little faded, but enough to make Jason's blood boil when he first saw it.
"Get on with it." Tim squirms.
"No." Jason's hand finds its way to the centre. His finger traces the heart, a red glowing outline of it.
Tim's hips jerk hard enough that Jason has to pin him down.
"Patience." Jason inhales sharply.
"Inside," Tim says again, but it comes out more whiny, wrecked. "Please."
Jason laughs at him. Tim can feel himself dripping onto the sheets. He can feel Jason against him, heavy and slick, and still not inside.
"Do you really like it that much?" Tim asks, because he's stupid with want.
Jason looks at him then, his eyes dark enough to drown in.
"Do I like it?" he repeats.
Tim swallows.
Jason presses his palm flat over the tattoo. Tim's skin pulses below it. His cunt clenches helplessly, empty and aching.
Jason licks his lips.
"You put a lewd little spell over your pussy and expect me to hate it?"
The words come out low and hot. Tim hates how hard they make him throb. He hates that Jason feels it when he's pressed against him.
"Fuck you." Tim shakes his head.
“I’m trying.”
Jason moves then. Tim keens at the sudden loss of contact, but then Jason’s mouth dips to Tim’s stomach, lips brushing the upper curve of the tattoo. It makes him shudder. Jason kisses the mark once. Then again, slowly, lower - following the curl of ink with the edge of his teeth, careful not to scrape it off Tim’s skin completely. He bites lightly at the bottom of it.
Tim moans. His hands twist in the sheets. His stomach is hot under the tattoo, under Jason’s skilled tongue.
“You want it?” Jason’s gaze flickers. His hips shift.
The head of his cock finally touches against Tim’s entrance.
“Yes,” Tim gasps.
“Like this?”
Jason pushes in.
“Yes,” Tim nearly sobs.
His body opens around Jason immediately, wet and shaking. The mark flares beneath Jason’s hand, angry red bleeding through black, every line brightening as Jason sinks deeper inside his pussy.
Jason curses under his breath.
“Fuck, Tim.” His hips stop once he’s buried deep, the head of his cock pressing against Tim’s cervix. His fingers spread across the tattoo, then push down at the bulge that’s formed there. “It’s glowing.”
It’s most definitely not, but Tim plays into this fantasy. His eyes roll, head tipping back, throat exposed. A loud whine leaves his mouth.
“Look.” Jason grips his jaw.
Tim looks down.
Jason pulls back and thrusts back in.
The mark flashes.
Tim moans.
“Fuck-”
“What do you need?” Jason asks.
Tim makes a ruined noise.
Jason kisses the corner of his mouth, almost gentle.
“Come on. Tell me what you need.”
Tim shakes his head.
Jason pushes his thumb into the centre of the tattoo and rocks into him hard enough to make the bed creak.
“I need-” Tim’s voice breaks. He can feel Jason everywhere. Inside him, over him, under his skin, in the fake-glow of the tattoo neither of them can stop pretending is real. “I need you to breed me.”
Jason goes still. Not for long. Only long enough that Tim feels the words vibrate between them, filthy and bright, impossible to take back.
Then Jason exhales, all wrecked.
“Yeah?” he says. “That’s what this is?”
Tim nods desperately.
Jason’s hand slides lower, thumb tracing the arrow of the tattoo toward where his cock is buried inside Tim’s cunt. It slips even lower and massages his clit, moving across it in slow circles. Tim chokes on a gasp, every inch of him leaning against the touch.
“This pretty little thing is telling me where to put my cock?”
“Yes.”
“Where to come?”
Tim’s whole body tightens.
“Oh, baby,” Jason murmurs. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Please,” Tim says. “Please, Jay. Inside.”
Jason starts moving again. Deep. Every thrust pushing Tim more into the sheets, every return making Tim’s stomach press up into Jason’s palm. The tattoo slips under his hand, slick with sweat, the black curves bending with Tim’s heavy breaths. It looks ruined already. It looks perfect.
Tim's his cunt keeps clenching around Jason in hot, helpless pulses, his hands grabbing at anything they can reach. Jason groans above him, fucking him through everything, palm still clamped over the tattoo like he can keep Tim there. Keep him open. Keep the fantasy from washing off.
“That’s it,” Jason says, voice wrecked. “Good boy. Fuck, there you go. Take it.”
Tim is shaking with an approaching orgasm when Jason’s rhythm finally falters.
“Say it again,” Jason pants.
Tim’s eyes sting.
“Breed me.”
“Again.”
“Breed me, Jason. Please. Come inside me.”
Jason makes a sound like it hurts him.
Then he buries himself deep and comes, hips grinding in short, desperate thrusts, mouth pressed against Tim’s. Tim feels him spill inside and whines through the oversensitive burn of it, body clenching like it can pull him deeper, keep him there, make the whole filthy fantasy true.
Jason's breath burns against Tim’s temple.
Then he lifts his head and looks at the tattoo, smudged slightly now under his his hand, black lines blurred at the edges.
Tim rolls his eyes.
“Did you ruin it?”
Jason drags his palm over it.
Tim clenches around him.
Jason looks up, laughing.
“Nope,” he says. “Still works.”
They go for another round.