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argentum_lsTitle: Being Carefully Correctly Wrong
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: 562
Pairing: Jackson/Matt
Summary: Jackson has a score to settle with Matt
Warning: dub-con
Notes: Written for the Sharpen Your Claws Challenge on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
travel_in_packs. Title is from the Shriekback song "Nemesis."
Jackson’s no fool about technology. He knows when he turns that camera on that Matt is tuned in. It’s what he would do. So he puts on a show in front of the mirror, flexing his abs, posing, running his hands over the chiseled chest that he hasn’t had long enough to take for granted. He licks his lips for the camera and lets his eyes fall shut while he tweaks a nipple. The moan is the only unscripted part, and he has no regrets about that. He makes sure the show is good because Jackson does nothing without perfection as his minimal standard. And if Matt’s going to be a voyeur, then Jackson wants him to know exactly what he’s missing. Jackson settles into his pillows and slides a hand down the front of his shorts, looking straight into the camera the whole time. His eyebrow quirks lasciviously at the red blinking light; he gives himself a squeeze and mouths, “Tomorrow.”
Matt’s already in the locker room the next morning when Jackson arrives well before school starts. His lips are red and swollen like he’s been chewing on them all night and he’s obviously nervous; his whole body thrums with undirected energy, his knees are shaking. Jackson smiles. Yeah, he can work with this. “Did you like what you saw?” he asks, in that way where the only possible answer is “Fuck, yes.”
Matt nods, his eyes going wide as Jackson moves toward him. They’re blue, like Jackson’s, and brimming with anticipation.
“I’ll bet it sucked that the only thing you could do was watch,” Jackson adds. Once again, he slips a hand down his pants for Matt to see. He’s already hard and the squeeze he gives himself sends sparks through his body.
Matt doesn’t even try to deny that he’d been watching. Not that a denial would have carried any weight. Instead he asks, “What do you want?” as if the answer isn’t obvious.
Jackson steps closer, backing Matt into the bank of lockers behind them. Matt hits them with a thunk, his hands spread flat against the metal surface as a buffer. Heat radiates off his body and a red flush starts in his cheeks and travels down his neck under Jackson’s scrutiny. “To correct an oversight,” Jackson responds. He chuckles slightly at the cleverness of his joke. Oversight. Looking over. Watching.
He’s done with Matt’s watching.
Matt’s tongue darts over his lips and he dips his head, taking in Jackson’s physique, Jackson’s need, Jackson’s hand still massaging himself to prominent effect. When he looks back up, he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and gives a slight nod of assent. He looks more aroused than Jackson’s ever seen anyone, outside his own mirror. “I saw everything,” Matt says, his voice thick.
“No you didn’t,” Jackson responds. He boxes Matt against the lockers with a hand on either side of his head and positions himself so close that the material of their jeans brushes with each breath. “I’m full of surprises.” Matt’s hips buck out, grinding into Jackson’s. Both boys groan, the noises sounding small in the echoing silence of the locker room. It’s a silence that begs to be filled, and as Matt’s heart starts to beat harder and his breath come faster, Jackson leans into his ear and whispers his plans for how to fill it.
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: 562
Pairing: Jackson/Matt
Summary: Jackson has a score to settle with Matt
Warning: dub-con
Notes: Written for the Sharpen Your Claws Challenge on
travel_in_packs. Title is from the Shriekback song "Nemesis."Jackson’s no fool about technology. He knows when he turns that camera on that Matt is tuned in. It’s what he would do. So he puts on a show in front of the mirror, flexing his abs, posing, running his hands over the chiseled chest that he hasn’t had long enough to take for granted. He licks his lips for the camera and lets his eyes fall shut while he tweaks a nipple. The moan is the only unscripted part, and he has no regrets about that. He makes sure the show is good because Jackson does nothing without perfection as his minimal standard. And if Matt’s going to be a voyeur, then Jackson wants him to know exactly what he’s missing. Jackson settles into his pillows and slides a hand down the front of his shorts, looking straight into the camera the whole time. His eyebrow quirks lasciviously at the red blinking light; he gives himself a squeeze and mouths, “Tomorrow.”
Matt’s already in the locker room the next morning when Jackson arrives well before school starts. His lips are red and swollen like he’s been chewing on them all night and he’s obviously nervous; his whole body thrums with undirected energy, his knees are shaking. Jackson smiles. Yeah, he can work with this. “Did you like what you saw?” he asks, in that way where the only possible answer is “Fuck, yes.”
Matt nods, his eyes going wide as Jackson moves toward him. They’re blue, like Jackson’s, and brimming with anticipation.
“I’ll bet it sucked that the only thing you could do was watch,” Jackson adds. Once again, he slips a hand down his pants for Matt to see. He’s already hard and the squeeze he gives himself sends sparks through his body.
Matt doesn’t even try to deny that he’d been watching. Not that a denial would have carried any weight. Instead he asks, “What do you want?” as if the answer isn’t obvious.
Jackson steps closer, backing Matt into the bank of lockers behind them. Matt hits them with a thunk, his hands spread flat against the metal surface as a buffer. Heat radiates off his body and a red flush starts in his cheeks and travels down his neck under Jackson’s scrutiny. “To correct an oversight,” Jackson responds. He chuckles slightly at the cleverness of his joke. Oversight. Looking over. Watching.
He’s done with Matt’s watching.
Matt’s tongue darts over his lips and he dips his head, taking in Jackson’s physique, Jackson’s need, Jackson’s hand still massaging himself to prominent effect. When he looks back up, he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and gives a slight nod of assent. He looks more aroused than Jackson’s ever seen anyone, outside his own mirror. “I saw everything,” Matt says, his voice thick.
“No you didn’t,” Jackson responds. He boxes Matt against the lockers with a hand on either side of his head and positions himself so close that the material of their jeans brushes with each breath. “I’m full of surprises.” Matt’s hips buck out, grinding into Jackson’s. Both boys groan, the noises sounding small in the echoing silence of the locker room. It’s a silence that begs to be filled, and as Matt’s heart starts to beat harder and his breath come faster, Jackson leans into his ear and whispers his plans for how to fill it.
