forallyoucare | (no subject)

Well colour Simon confused. Peter was always a little bit on the soft side and he'd never seen such intensity in those baby blues before. It made Simon grin. "One thing you don't ever have to worry about is about that." He let Peter hold onto his arm, it wasn't like he could hurt the leather, and took another sip of his greatly diminishing coffee-like frozen beverage.

This was probably why JC had picked Peter. He was so... Wholesome, yes, but also incredibly passionate.

"We could work on our self confidence together. How about that?"

Hearing Simon talk about needing to work on his self-confidence was almost like a blow to the back of the head it left him so stunned. To his eyes, Simon had always been the picture of self-confidence! Was... it just hiding all this other stuff behind it? Peter slowly let go, brows coming together as he thought about it. That grin though... did he need to be more confident to get Simon to smile at him like that?

"Yeah. ...Yeah." He brought up a smile, and the smile stayed as he finally cracked open his cookie, digging in with relish. That happier feeling in his chest had nothing to do with the sugar but now with an idea in the back of his mind. He was going to find a way to help Simon with his confidence.

...But how?

Poor Pete was going to have his work cut out for him. Simon never showed any cracks (minus the small one he gave a hint at today) and therefore, trying to get inside the overly hair sprayed shell was going to take some work and effort on Peter's part. They finished their cookies for now and dropped their empties in the bin. Simon once again made sure that Peter had his helmet on (and helped him with the strap) before driving him home.

Where Simon stayed was a little bit of a mystery. Peter had never been there. In fact, no one actually had. He always just drove off towards the city, but that could really be anywhere.

"See you tomorrow, Pete?" He had a date of sorts to get ready for after all.

Peter nodded, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he had plans racing. None of them very good plans, but plans nonetheless. If he was going to help Simon, try to repay him back for saving his life and on top of that maybe try to earn some respect out of him, it was going to take every bit of effort he could manage. The problem was, the more he thought about it, the less he realized he knew about Simon Zealotes.

That had to change. But how?

"See you tomorrow!" He called over to Simon on his cycle, giving a quick wave, and watched him drive off. Peter didn't immediately go inside, standing on the sidewalk as he thought. First... he needed to find out where Simon lived and what he did when they broke up at the end of the day. That... wasn't going to be easy. He chewed on his nail, then decided on the easiest thing first. Check the internet. Maybe he could get some ideas there.

Or, you know. Google Simon up.

Simon was a bit internet famous in the area. But probably not in the way most people wanted to be. The club he used to work out still had his head shot on their site and the gallery had photographs of him taken during sessions with the faces of his clients blacked out.

His dominance was not debateable but there for everyone to see. Right along with his bare ass cheeks.

There was also a hit for a local BDSM website and forum that came up, which probably gave Peter a little too much information on Simon. Clients of his and those who had watched play during open sessions, discussed Peter's friend and savior in all sorts of intimate details. There was even an appreciation thread for the tattoo he had on the inside of his thigh.

Edited 2017-02-10 13:17 (UTC)

Peter, who was hidden in his room with not only the door locked by a chair up and under the doorknob, was tucked up in his bed and blushing a brilliant crimson as he looked at this private part of Simon's life. ...He hadn't even known Simon had a tattoo there. He stared at the pictures of Simon, all muscles and slicked skin, looking like a god among mortals in those photos, but then the BDSM thing had almost killed him in sheer embarrassment to discover. Was- was that what Simon was doing every night? Going to do this stuff?

He put his laptop to the side eventually and groaned into his knees, his mind and body a raging sea of total confusion, total embarrassment, and total arousal. What was wrong with him that he was even looking this stuff up!? Surely Simon wanted this to remain a private world apart from his friends in the Twelve, right? Right? He didn't understand how someone who had the confidence to let pictures be taken like that, to participate in such things, could have the kind of low self-confidence he heard at the Starbucks.

How could he help? It wasn't easy to think when his body definitely had reacted to some of those pictures. Did Simon want to feel like the stuff he was doing was okay or... did he want out of it?

He lifted his head and looked to the screen. If he wanted to help, he had to learn, right? Peter bit his lip so hard it almost bled, trying to make a decision, before he swallowed. He could do this for a friend.

Twenty minutes and a shower later, Peter was slipping out the door, looking for a taxi to take him into the city. There was a pair of clubs he needed to find.

Which was all long before Judas and Simon had plans to meet up. Judas had himself ready on time, wondering for the tenth time where he had even ended up with the leather corset wrapped around him, with black jeans, boots, and a tee shirt under to match the lot. Makeup done, wallet tucked in his front pocket instead of the back for safety's sake, he almost looked like he belonged in a club. Really, the whole thing was just an excuse to go out, get a little drunk, and forget the weirdness that had been the previous 24 hours with JC.

Had Simon known what Peter might do, he would probably have warned him away from doing more than a little Internet surfing. He wasn't ashamed of himself or his former life, but he certainly didn't want to get poor Peter involved in this mess. He'd be eaten up alive at Simon's old club. Or learn more than he really ought to from the people that still worked there.

He wasn't thinking about Peter though or the trouble he was causing at the club already when he stopped by to pick up Judas. He couldn't help but comment at his outfit (he was wearing red linen and black leather himself). "Is all of this for me or are you hoping to catch someone better?"

He leaned against the bike with the helmet, just watching Judas approach. He was older than him but so damned attractive.

It was a shame he was more vanilla.

It was going to be a night of eye-opening for the youngest of the Twelve. He found his taxi and gave the address a block away from the club he planned on seeing tonight, determined to go inside and see what these places were like. In reality, he had absolutely no idea what he was getting himself into. His clothing was too clean cut, too neat, too goodie hipster, but he was young and cute and it might get him in on his looks alone.

But Judas was at ease, smirking at Simon's words, gesturing for the helmet. "I wouldn't have to put in this much work to get someone better than you." His voice was a tease, his expression cocky as he put on the helmet, climbing onto the back of the bike. Unlike Peter, he didn't cling to Simon, just got himself balanced and gripped the leather coat, unafraid of it. Simon wouldn't dump him, no need to cling.

"You didn't have to put in any work for me at all," Simon teased further, though with helmets on and te purr of the bike between his legs, anything further would just be garbled if spoken out lout. He didn't think too much about Judas' lack of clinging the way he didn't think about Peter's death grip. On the road, Simon just let his mind clear.

They arrived at the same club Peter was trying to sneak into the upstairs private rooms of just after eleven, and Simon laughed and hugged his way through the line inside to pounding music and all kinds of writhing bodies on the dance floor and ar the bar.

"Drinks are on me," he yelled into Judas' ear and whisked him away to the bar where one of the bartenders who had known him for years plunked down two tumblers of scotch and soda.

"Simon! Wow! Great to see you! On the house!"

It was fun getting to ride along with Simon. Motorcycles had such a different feel to them from riding in a car or a bus or a van. It was what Judas guessed riding a horse felt like. Like something alive, something you had to move with, wind in your hair. Fun.

Peter wasn't trying to sneak in, more just trying to figure out the club in general. The whole place felt like it was one giant heartbeat, pounding with the music, but he wanted to figure it out. People kept trying to talk to him until he had found this little corner to duck into for the time being, catching his breath, wondering how anyone could work in a place like this without going completely deaf.

Judas loved the idea of drinks being on Simon - agreed with his wallet, after all - but free was even better. It didn't matter what was put down in front of him, he watched the bartender's expression light up on seeing Simon and decided to simply grin and raise the glass in a thank you before taking a sip. The burn on his tongue suggested this was a loaded drink, nice. More liquor for less money (not that even he could complain with a price tag of nothing). He stayed close to Simon, the music almost obscured by its own noise and the noise of well over a hundred people, one boot tapping to the beat. Fuck it. Dance, get sloshed with Simon, see where the night went. Not anything he could see wrong with it.

"Figured you didn't come around here much anymore!" Judas called over the noise, raising an eyebrow at Simon. He had no idea if the other was still working here or somewhere else, maybe living off the clients he still saw, who knew. They both knew each other's shit, their vices and pains and the bullshit, so it wasn't so hard to talk about. Sort of. Feelings didn't get involved between them, ever.

Simon didn't get involved. His job was to let everyone else get involved with him, not the other way around. Right now, he was living a pretty cushy life. He came and went as he pleased, he didn't have to make himself available to anyone, and on the occasion that his old client came back from wherever else it was he lived, they sometimes had a little fun. The only thing he had to do was feed the cat and keep the plants watered. Going from high end Dom to house sitter had been easy. A natural progression. He didn't sell himself any more because he wanted to be on message with JC.

Judas knew that much at least... That he lived alone in a penthouse and minded a cat for a living. Hard job but someone had to do it.

A few more drinks and a promise to come by at last call to catch up with the bartender, Simon grabbed Judas around his artificially narrowed waist and tugged him out onto the dance floor. Dark kohl rimmed eyes gazed into paler ones.

"If I said I wanted you tonight, would you let me have you?" he asked, pulling Judas' hips towards him suggestively. Leather pants let him feel absolutely everything between them, as if there was no fabric there at all. He loved the pur of leather against fabric, even if he could t hear it, he could feel it.

Simon looked like any number of people in this club. Dancing, he was nothing special. He wasn't a great beauty. He didn't have the draw he did upstsirs. And right now, his eyes were just on Judas.

It was a club. There were a ridiculous amount of beautiful people on that club floor, all dressed to attract the eye. Peter, who had fairly none of that going for him, was a hidden figure as he watched from an upper deck, not even a drink in hand as he tried to figure out Simon through being where he had been.

Judas' pale brows shot up at Simon's forwardness, their bodies shifting in time to the music but more to the pressure Simon had put between them. He felt someone just behind him, but his world had briefly narrowed down to the Zealot. Simon would always have that sort of effect on people. One arm came up, laying over Simon's shoulder. He had the height on the other, at least. "Just like that?" he asked back, the smirk on his lips teasing. It'd been a long time, sure, but some things came back easily. He was a man free to do as he wished (minus what the Romans were pulling on them anymore) and tonight he gave zero fucks.

He gave a slow grind back, slowing Simon down. "Just how easy do you think I am?"

"You're not easy. Why do you think I want you?" Simon grinned, hand reaching around to squeeze Judas' ass. Simon had a way of pinpointing people with just his eyes. They were intensely sensual and dominant, forcing people he wanted to return that gaze. It had taken practice to control that look, but all control took practice. "Anything worth having is never, never easy."

It was too bad he probably wouldn't be able to talk Judas into a session. Sex was fine, but Simon got the most relief from spending time in prep and post scene, more than he ever did during. Sex generally wasn't even part of it then.

He leaned in so his nose to trace Judas' rough jaw line. He liked beards. He liked the feel against his cheeks.

"Does that mean if I give in, you'll get bored?" Simon was far more dominant than he had allowed himself since those days, but it wasn't a hard role to fall back into. It was hard for almost anyone to see him as anything in terms of submissive, little s or big S, even himself, but it was old habit. Not that he'd ever let someone go as far as Simon got his normal type to fall into. The idea of being someone's bitch was about as far away from anything Judas could see himself enjoying as possible.

Still, he did find himself arrested by that gaze, letting Simon go further than he'd let the other in the past, tilting his head back to let Simon have his way. What neither of them knew was that they had been spotted.

Peter stood there, fingers wrapped around the railing so tightly that the knuckles were white, mouth gone dry, looking down on the thing he had hoped wasn't true. It felt like his throat had closed up on him, keeping in the shout, the keen, the raw noise that wanted to escape him as he stared at Simon getting that close to Judas. You're a damn fool, Peter. You're nothing but. Why did you ever think for a second...? Simon had gotten his hope up this afternoon, however unintentionally, but that hope was shattered on the sticky floor.

He fought his way back towards the door. He came home, mind spinning with emotions, and with James and John asleep elsewhere in the house, began to pack.

"Maybe. But not tonight," Simon growled, hand in Judas' hair to tug back his chin. He left bruises somewhat accidentally. Judas was pale and fair and the slightest amount of pressure outlined where he used his teeth and tongue.

By the time Peter got himself home, Simon and Judas were leaving the club and heading back to Simon's place. They'd arrive around the time Peter was packing, throwing things into a bag without paying too much attention to what he was doing. Simon lifted Judas onto the granite countertop of the massive kitchen breakfast bar, good China in glass cabinets reflecting the light all around them, lips hungry for the ginger's.

He'd have his hand on bare skin when Peter left the house, not knowing he'd caused so much hurt. Right now, making Judas come as many times as possible was the only thing on Simon's mind. He planned on the first time being right here. Clue style: Simon, in the kitchen, with his mouth.

It was stupid, it was blind, it involved almost no thought at all, but Peter was still young, still inexperienced, and a bit of a fool. He hated himself for crying over Simon, angry because he was reacting like a child, but he couldn't help himself. His parents had told him he was still too young, even if that wasn't really true, to be out on his own but he had been ready to show him it wasn't true--

He was hurt, handling it badly, and he knew it.

But Judas had no idea and right now, with Simon showing him just how skilled he was, anyone else was a million miles from his mind. Both of his hands were gripping somewhere - the crunch of that hair gel, the back of his neck with the other - his head fallen back as he bit roughly into his own lip to keep from making some seriously embarrassing sounds. It had been way too fucking long since he'd gotten off and his body was reminding him whole heartedly right now. Simon had him and had him hard right now, but once he was recovered from it, he would fight back. He could give those similar low growls and leave his mark on Simon in turn, a challenge against the other as he gave a bit of a rough bite to a nipple perked by the air-conditioning, a hand dropping to wrap around leather and the skin beneath and squeeze.

Simon wasn't usually crazy about having anyone fight him back but this turned out to be deliciously fun. Though he didn't consider himself switch, for Judas, tonight, he'd do a whole lot of things as long as they felt good to them both. And as long as he got a chance to ride Judas hard into the sofa cushions, face down. The leather was cool and then hot, the friction awful and then slick with sweat. It was by far Simon's favorite place in the apartment.

And that might have to do with the mirrored wall direction across from it. He made Judas watch him as he took his time thrusting into him. He got off more on watching Judas' face than he did on the feeling of being inside of him.

Second orgasm? Simon. On the couch. With his hand. And part of the couch. And his dick. Him. It was a complicated crime.

They took time to rehydrate, standing around the kitchen naked. Simon tried to get Judas to eat out of his palm but he figured that might be pushing it.

Yeah that wasn't happening, Simon. Judas just gave Simon a hard look for the attempt, his elbows hooked on the counter and a drink in one hand, condensation dripping to the floor. He was easy with his body in the nude, but it showed the years of his life written across it like a book. Scars, the needle marks in his arms, even his ankles. The tattoos, all in faded black, wrapped around his biceps. Lean, without much in the way of fat on him, and a lot of his bulk ended up in the volume of his coat. Still, his shoulders were broad, good muscles in his arms.

"Fuck me," he muttered, shifting his weight. "Gonna be sore in the morning. There better be one giant shower hidden in all this luxury with a lot of hot water behind it." He rubbed his jaw, feeling the friction from the couch where his skin had been ground into the black leather.

Oh well. He could always try. He popped the grapes into his own mouth and watched the way Judas' fingers played across the condensation from the glass. "Do you one better. Jacuzzi?" The bathroom was ridiculous and Simon tended to stick to the smaller bathroom off of the guest room because it was easier to clean but this was a special occasion. He grabbed a full bunch of grapes from the bowl behind the stainless steel fridge door and motioned with his head for Judas to follow him.

Eating grapes and waiting for the tub to fill, Simon sat on the edge of the bath and watched Judas. He never judged any of those marks, he never had to. Simon had his own, but they were hidden up his nose. It was a little kinder that way but his colds were no less telling.

"You ready to tell me about what crazy you and JC were into this time? Even you two don't make up thst fast." And if they had decided to try the dating thing, Judas wouldn't be here with him now. Probably.

Judas sat relaxed on the edge of the jacuzzi - oh shit, yeah, this was even better - and stole a grape, popping it into his mouth. It felt a little awkward bringing JC up right now, given what they'd been at all night, but if he was going to talk about it, it'd be with Simon. He rubbed his neck, frowning as he felt a sore spot which probably meant a hickey, damn it, and shrugged.

"I was... probably a lot more blunt with him than I usually am. I'm not going anywhere from him, and I hope maybe I got that into his head, but I was blunt about the fact that I'm a certain kind of guy. I like to drink and smoke and fuck... a whole lot of things we both know JC isn't into. I'm willing to give this dating thing a try, if he really wants that, but I'm not sure that is what he wants. I think he just wants to know I'm not going anywhere, I'm his. I've been his since the day he found me."

Simon frowned ever so slightly. "Now that you mention it, I actually can't picture JC fucking," he snorted. "I know he's just a guy like the rest of us but I just can't imagine what that would be like." He leaned back to add some scented oil and bubbles to the tub. Why not if he was doing this up right? He splashed a bit to test the temperature and slid on in, offering his hand to Judas like a gentleman.

They could still talk as they soaked, legs thrown over legs. Sometimes Simon wondered why he didn't do this more often. It was relaxing and the company was good. He just knew nothing would come of it.

He was starting to feel how lonely thst was.

Okay, the bubbles were almost funny, and he flicked some of them at Simon when he got in, but he didn't complain. It was... nice. Judas didn't expect anything to come of it, and he knew Simon wouldn't either, which was why he agreed at all. No strings attached. He just could relax with it, even if he had to keep Simon's urges somewhat in check. He let his head lean back, eyes closed and leaving them dark pits with makeup.

"That's just it. Maybe he's not, you know? Maybe he's... what's that whole thing? Asexual? I've never seen him have the slightest interest in anything but a cuddle but at the same time he's one of the touchiest guys I know." He held hands with everyone, hugged, hands on a shoulder... just always touching. It had bothered the fuck out of him at first, but in the years since, he'd gotten more than used to it. Didn't even think twice about it anymore.

"Romantic asexual," Simon corrected slightly. "I had a client that just wanted to be whipped and then held. She said she never got aroused and wasn't interested in even trying to get that way. Like she wasn't interested in anything else. But she had a girlfriend and they cuddled and held hands and did the normal things people do. Without the sex."

He let thick arms hang over the lip of the tub before bracing himself to crawl forward onto Judas, sitting down in his lap and on his own heels. "So. You're going to see if that's what he wants from you? Or if he's just afraid you're going to wander off?" He pushed some wet-ended dreds over Judas' shoulder, leaning in to kiss him. It was sweeter than Simon usually liked, his embrace less fleeting than usual. "Because that's cute... I just pictured him more with Peter doing that."

He definitely wasn't on top of those sorts of terms, but Judas tucked it away in the back of his head. Sure sounded like JC... well, minus the whipping bit. Sometimes he didn't want to know more about what Simon did on his play dates with people and this was almost too much info for him. Still, whatever made him happy.

He accepted the kiss, returned it, almost amused with the fact that Simon's hair was still oddly perfect. What did it even look like without five tons of hair product in it? However, that last comment? Made him laugh. "Are you nuts? Peter's always happy to be near him, but if he's looking for anyone to do that shit with, it's you. He's got it bad for you. JC probably can't even touch that."

Simon laughed. "That's not even funny," he said. Maybe he'd told Judas that he had a secret crush on Peter once because there was something about saving a life that made you responsible for that life. He was pretty sure that Judas was just teasing him now with throwing that back in his face. He toned down the gawking and went for another kiss, trying to gauge how willing Judas was for a round three. "Peter's too... Wholesome. He's going to end up with a really short wife or another guy that looks just like him."

Because honestly. Peter was sort of the epitome of perfection. He had soft and unworked hands, his parents were rich and he came from a Liberal Arts college on a full scholarship.

"And if you're right... Shit. I'd ruin him. So that's not gonna happen."