Who: Aidan and Victor Where: Victor’s house in Overlook When: Tuesday Night, July 10th Warning: turns NSFW-ish Status: Complete
It took Aidan four days to solve the water curse and in that time he almost drowned himself half a dozen times. The air bubble worked, but it was not a solution and removing it at the wrong time resulted in a mouthful of water. He wasn’t sure he’d replicated the curse exactly, and there was a chance that he’d made it a bit more vicious, but he’d rather be over prepared than under. Repeating his previous mistakes was not an option. He applied it to both objects and rooms, as he wasn’t exactly sure how Victor had it setup in his house, but he wanted to ensure he could handle both. Once he was confident in his abilities, Aidan rested up and waited for a good time to return.
The problem was, there was never a good time. He didn’t want to go when Victor was at work. It might be the best time, but it would likely piss him off the most. It felt impolite, an amusing concern to have considering he was planning to break into his house. He could go in the middle of the night, but then Victor’d be too close to let Aidan explore before slipping out. Maybe it was foolish, but he wanted to have a good look around this time, see if there was anything else worse stealing.
Aidan finally picked a night where Victor was out and already gone for a good hour. He came in through the basement, just as he had last time, disabling the alarm system and pressing air through the locks. He could pick them, and there was some fun in that, but he had the feeling Victor would take his picks if he found them on him. The wards were a bit more tricky, but Aidan was aware of them this time around and slipped past them where he could. This time he didn’t even enter the study-like basement room. He stood outside the door and disabled the water curse, then lifted the dagger using magic. It floated behind him as he wandered upstairs, taking his sweet-ass time in the living room, palming a bauble off a living room side table before heading up the stairs.
The master bedroom was insane. Aidan knew it probably would be, but knowing it and seeing it for himself was completely different. Why one person needed all this for himself was beyond him, though he imagined sprawling out on the giant-ass bed was probably nice. It was the bathroom that made him somewhat jealous, so that was where he decided to handle the dagger for the first time. It attacked him, as he expected, but instead of dropping it, he held tight, using his other hand to lightly stroke the hilt. If he’d triggered a curse, he couldn’t sense it yet. Maybe the basement room was currently filling up with invisible water. Maybe he’d successfully disabled it as he hoped. Either way, he was focused on the puzzle in his hand, careless about how much time was passing in the process.
Victor pulled into his driveway a little after nine. He’d been out having a few drinks with a friend at Dragonfly, and while it was still relatively early, he’d been slightly relieved when the guy had been called home by his wife. Catching up with people who’d begun a family life already was always so weird to him. He’d thought about lingering around Dragonfly for a while to see if anyone interesting came in and just soak up the vibes, but Victor had felt a pull toward home and solitude. He had plenty to drink there, and he never minded keeping his own company.
Two things simultaneously caught his attention when he stepped over the threshold into his house -- the house alarm panel next to the door didn’t beep, and Victor sensed magic in the house that wasn’t his. He’d come in through the kitchen door that faced where he liked to park his car, and Victor glanced down at the knob and lock as he slowly pushed it shut. No damage. Disarmed alarm. And something familiar about that sense that he wasn’t alone. Victor didn’t feel any of his wards going off, and he didn’t know whether to be pissed off or impressed.
His heart had picked up speed, but he stayed calm as he shrugged out of his jacket and toed out of his shoes. Victor set out through the house to check rooms. He went without turning any lights on, moving as quietly as he could and listening ahead as he walked. When Victor found him, and he would, he wanted to take him by surprise.
Aidan’s hand ached from freshly healed wounds. Five times the snake had bitten him, sinking its teeth into his flesh, and five times he’d set it down, healed his hand, and used the sink to wash the blood away. It smarted something fierce, but he didn’t let that stop him from picking it up a sixth time. He hissed as it lashed out, fangs cutting into the soft skin between his first finger and thumb. There had to be more to it and he tried to recall if Victor had done something special while handling it, though all he recalled was how the snake dagger hadn’t bitten him. Charming it might take time, something he’d lost track of while messing with it. His skin prickled and he looked up, ignoring the pain in his hand to confirm he was still alone. The house was quiet, but it felt… different. One hand still clinging to that damn dagger, the other reached out to touch the light switch. As he flicked it off, the entire house went dark.
Victor froze in place as the single glowing lamp in the living room went off by itself. His stomach fluttered and a wave of goosebumps rolled over his skin under his clothes. It was more of a charged, excited feeling than fear, which would’ve been interesting if he wasn’t so keenly focused on what was happening. In his mind’s eye he recalled the electricity crackling between Aidan O’Reilly’s fingers, and it felt like a confirmation of what his gut already knew. That little hillbilly shit was back in his house. For some reason it sent warmth rushing into his groin as he started to move again. Now he was looking for Aidan in the dark, but he was more adapted to his own place, so he knew he could manage.
Feeling like playing back a little, Victor flexed his will and pushed the water waiting in the pipes, essentially turning on every faucet in the house without turning any knobs. Even if Aidan wasn’t hiding anywhere near a bathroom, he would surely hear it. The first floor was empty, Victor found, so he must be upstairs somewhere or down in the basement again. Every nerve tingling with awareness, he started silently up the steps, instinct telling him to go up this time instead of down. Victor had no conscious plan of what he would do if he caught Aidan in the act again, he just knew he wanted to.
Aidan inhaled sharply as the water turned on, providing confirmation that he wasn’t in the house alone. It muffled all chances of him hearing Victor approach and his heart began to race as he considered his options. He could try to leave the way he came in, but that was back through the bedroom and down the stairs, and the likelihood of him running into Victor was probably high. The window wasn’t the sort that opened and, while Aidan could work around that, he was on the second story. Skilled as he was, he could not fly and preferred not to find out if he could scale the side of Victor’s house. That left him with hiding. Hiding in a bathroom. His options were limited, especially with the shower running. “Shit,” he whispered and hurried into the bedroom to hide behind the door. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could slip out once Victor had stepped in.
This house was bigger than he needed, and Victor felt some vague regret for not buying in Black Cove instead when he’d been house shopping. There had been some hubris involved, a desire to live alongside his uncle to show he was a peer. Now it just felt like too many goddamn empty bedrooms. Victor nudged their doors open as he passed by them on his way down the hall, glancing in to confirm they were still empty, even of furniture. He felt like he knew Aidan wasn’t in any of those, he was in the master bedroom at the end of the hall, because of course he was. If he was toying with Victor like he seemed to be, invading the most private areas of the house made the most sense. It made his heart race harder to think about the man lurking in the shadows of his bedroom, big blue eyes keen and shimmering in the dark. Victor approached the bedroom door with careful steps, reaching one hand out to push the door the rest of the way open with his fingertips. He paused before he stepped into the doorway to scan the room for anything out of place, stopping the flow of water with a thought so he could listen better.
Aidan always got a thrill out of breaking and entering, but he normally had a healthy fear of being caught. That all tied in to being arrested, but Victor had let him walk away last time, leaving a different, unknown punishment in its place. It was that threat that provided the rush this time and Aidan’s body quivered in anticipation. Behind the door, in the dark, he could see nothing. With the water running, he couldn’t hear much either. Then the door moved and, suddenly, silence. Aidan’s breath caught in his chest and his hands clenched into fists, the fangs of the snake digging deeper into his hand. Aidan cringed, feeling the blood pool around the wound, and tried to listen for footsteps. Victor was close, too close, and the threat of being caught was beginning to mess with him in unexpected ways. His cock stirred and Aidan closed his eyes, steadying himself. Quiet as he was, he was sure Victor could hear him and was just waiting for him to give himself away.
On his side of the door, Victor was sure that if Aidan was actually in his bedroom, he could hear Victor’s heart thudding against his ribcage. It sure as hell sounded loud in his own ears. In the end it wasn’t a noise that tipped him off, but the proximity of magic, some of it his own, but definitely not all of it. It was like a throb at the side of his consciousness, close and vibrant, and he was suddenly aware Aidan had something of his on his person. A weapon? Something valuable? Victor couldn’t tell. His eyes were drawn to the open bedroom door and he had the sense that if he touched it, the wood would be warm. What did he do now? Slam the door against the body he was now convinced was back there? Try to reach around and yank him out? Most people assumed Victor’s slimness meant he was scrawny and weak, but it wasn’t true. He would never be a bulky man, but he kept in shape and he was stronger than he looked. He liked to box, and wrestle in the bedroom, but he’d never actually been in a real fight, and he had no idea how well he would do. Did he even really want to fight Aidan O’Reilly for intruding?
Given the way Victor’s blood was pumping and how tight the front of his jeans felt, it seemed the answer was No. He was dying to put hands on him now though, maybe scare him off from doing this again, and definitely retrieve whatever it was Aidan was trying to take from him. Victor wet his lips and took a quick side-step into the bedroom, yanking the door shut as he stepped forward and reached for the shadowy figure pressed up against the wall.
Aidan could fight if he had to, but he was hoping it wouldn’t come to blows. He was hoping he could slip out right under Victor’s nose, leaving his mark but disappearing like a ghost. There was a long moment where Aidan thought it might be possible, then suddenly the door moved and Victor grabbed the left side of his hoodie. Aidan twisted, one arm slipping out, but the other was still caught holding the dagger. “Fuck,” he cringed as the fangs sunk in deeper, the pull of the sheath against his sleeve amplifying the pain. Blood dripped down his wrist. He pushed at Victor with his free hand only to find himself caught in Victor’s grip, pinned unless he was willing to drop the dagger. Logically, he should have done so long ago, but instinct and desire had him holding on tight. He tried to take a step back, but the wall was there, and he looked up into Victor’s eyes, his own bright with unbridled excitement. “Hi.”
It was kind of a jumble, Victor knew he grabbed clothing before he caught Aidan’s wrist and held it tight. He crowded him, keeping him penned into the corner he’d gotten himself into behind the door. It was shadowy in the room but not too dark to miss the look in Aidan’s eyes, and Victor’s stomach twisted pleasantly. “Back again, huh?” he muttered, a bit breathless. Victor tugged Aidan toward him a tiny bit only to push him harder against the wall, his free hand braced against Aidan’s chest to try and pin him in place. Being so close and feeling a warm solid body under his hands fed that ache in his lower belly, and Victor’s nostrils flared as he breathed him in. His eyes ticked down to Aidan’s other hand to see what he was still clinging to ... and what was clinging to him, it seemed. Victor huffed a bit. “She still doesn’t like you.”
That breathlessness was common between them, with Aidan breathing hard as he pushed back against Victor’s hold. He could probably put up more of a fight, but he didn’t see the point. He’d been caught red handed and any witch worth their salt could keep him from leaving if they wanted to. From what he’d seen, Victor was a competent witch and he preferred to keep magic out of this. Aidan cast a glance towards the dagger and frustration flashed across his face. “She’s being a bit of a bitch,” he said, the wounds beginning to sting now that he’d seen them. His wrist twisted, offering the dagger back to Victor, done with it for the time being. “If there’s a trick to her, I haven’t figured it out yet. You interrupted me.” All he’d needed was a little longer and he’d have earned her loyalty, even if she chewed him to pieces in the process.
Aidan didn’t fight like he was really trying to get away, and the push of strength against his made Victor feel all kinds of tingly. All of this was giving him surprisingly hot feelings for such a personal violation, and he was incredibly tempted to violate Aidan back a bit. Was that kind of rapey? Probably, but Victor wasn’t exactly thinking clearly, his adrenaline and an intense bout of lust clouding his judgment. He looked at the dagger Aidan offered, and the blood seeping out of the meat of Aidan’s hand where he’d been bitten. He almost didn’t want to let the other witch go to take it. He kept his hold on Aidan’s wrist and reached with his other hand for the dagger, his fingers covering Aidan’s as he stroked his thumb against the head of the snake to make it let go without ripping a small chunk out of Aidan’s hand. It was better than he deserved. “Maybe don’t start by calling her a bitch,” he murmured. Victor shoved the dagger into his back pocket but didn’t give Aidan any more personal space, still gripping his wrist. Some of Aidan’s blood had gotten on his fingers, and Victor stared into his eyes as he licked it off. “That all you came back for? Or do I have to get your clothes off again?”
“It didn’t start that way,” Aidan muttered, sighing with relief as the dagger released itself from his skin. He probably should have taken advantage of the lack of restraint, but he was focused instead on the way Victor licked his blood off his fingers. It was unexpectedly erotic, making Aidan’s heart race and arousal grow more pronounced. He was suddenly aware of the pressure of Victor’s hand on his wrist and the proximity of his body, practically pressed up against his own. This was not at all what he’d come there for, but it was hard to deny the pull of the man who loomed over him. “That all you’ll miss?” he asked, not answering the question, aware he was probably making things worse. The bauble was burning a hole in his pocket, but now he wondered if he could get away with it. Was it a paperweight? A crystal of some sort? He hadn’t even been paying attention, but he knew that he’d pay for the fact that he’d taken it, a prospect that made him almost giddy with anticipation.
Was Aidan making things worse, or better? It was difficult for Victor to tell anymore. All he really knew at the moment was that Aidan wasn’t shoving him away or even really struggling against the hold, and he looked ... fascinated? Challenging? Aroused, maybe? Something enticing. Now was probably the time to back away and escort this stranger out of his house once again, but Victor didn’t want to. He wanted to touch him more instead, search him personally, get his hands on some of that skin he’d gotten a glimpse of last time. Victor abruptly pulled Aidan’s body off of the wall, intending to keep him as off-balance as possible, and turned him around. “Hands up,” he demanded, a bit of gravel in his voice. He crowded in close again, pushing up against Aidan’s body as he struggled a bit, not caring how obvious his erection might be. Victor started running his hands over the other man’s torso to check for any other prizes he might have stashed ... though half his focus was on how Aidan’s hair smelled and how firm he was.
“The fuck?” Aidan snapped as Victor spun him around and this time he couldn’t help but fight back. He tore one wrist from Victor’s grasp, then the other, only to have them pinned back down against the wall. He shoved back against him, but there was so little space between Victor and the wall that there was nowhere else to go. An attempt to slide out under one arm boxed him back in and Aidan growled softly as he pushed back against Victor. He was solid behind Aidan, that slim frame feeling so much bigger from this position, more imposing than he’d given him credit for. Aidan froze as he became aware of Victor’s arousal, panting softly as he tried to decide how he felt about that. It was as confusing a quandary as his own, inappropriate for the situation. Slowly, he stopped struggling against Victor’s hands and spread them on the wall, tentatively willing to comply.
God he loved the feeling of that resistance, of pushing harder against it and forcing it to bend to his will. This wasn’t the way to go about scratching that itch, there was no real consent here, he knew that, but he didn’t give a shit at the moment. Aidan was in his bedroom uninvited. Plus, he was still a little drunk, his inhibitions obviously in the gutter. Victor felt Aidan’s body go stiffer and then relent, and his stomach did that hot flutter-twist again. He ran his palms down Aidan’s arms and sides, patting the empty pockets of his jacket before they ventured lower, over Aidan’s waist to his hips. Victor had to stoop a little to reach the pockets of those low-slung jeans, looming further over Aidan’s shoulder, hips still pressed firmly against him. “Is it the stuff you like?” he murmured next to his ear. “Or the risk?” He felt a lump in one pocket and gave a low grunt as he slipped his hand inside. Fuck, it was warm in there. “Or actually getting caught?”
As Victor’s hands ran down Aidan’s body, Aidan was busy having a quiet internal melt down. The rational part of his brain screamed that he should tell Victor to stop, insist that he should get his hands off him, or at least take one fucking step back. This was overkill, unnecessary, and quickly sliding into territory he was wholly uncomfortable with. The problem with that whole argument was that Victor was doing things to him that he very much enjoyed. If he asked him to stop, Aidan was sure he’d regret it immediately, and he wanted to see where this was going enough to allow the violation. There was something fucked up about it all, his instincts and need for self preservation were clearly askew, but just didn’t care. When Victor spoke, his breath made Aidan’s skin prickle and his cock harden. If Victor dug deep enough into his pockets, he might find more than just the bauble he’d swiped. “The risk,” he answered breathlessly. “And the stuff. But mostly the risk.” The stuff was just stuff, sometimes with no value at all. It was a compulsion that Aidan could’ve explained better if he wasn’t so distracted. “Getting caught is…new.”
Aidan wasn’t fighting it, not really, and Victor didn’t think it was because he was afraid of repercussions. He’d been quite ready to electrocute him with his bare fingers the last time. Victor might have had him boxed in and pinned, but neither of them were dumb enough to think that made Aidan helpless. It gave him a sick sort of thrill to aggressively push past someone’s boundaries and not be rebuffed, it tapped into a dark desire he usually kept leashed with rules and negotiations. This felt wilder, much less controlled than his usual encounters, and something about it was intoxicating. Victor hadn’t really expected an honest answer to his question, and he smiled faintly to himself as he pushed his fingers deeper into Aidan’s pocket. He was thrilled -- and not entirely surprised -- to feel something extra through the thin layers of cotton, and Victor moved his other hand over to cover the bulge in the front of Aidan’s jeans. “Mm, feels like you like that too,” Victor breathed, his hand squeezing gently. His mind was running wild with the things he suddenly wanted to do to Aidan, and he rocked his hips a bit to put more pressure on his own trapped erection.
Aidan bit his lip to stifle a moan, unwilling to dignify that with a response. Yes, he fucking liked it, that much was obvious. He’d enjoyed something about their exchange last time, had thought about it constantly as he’d worked on disabling the water trap. He could have taken the dagger and run this time, but the prospect of being caught again had caused him to linger. If he had known it would result in this, would he have stayed? Aidan wasn’t sure. He just knew that his attempts to fight back were not what they would be if he truly objected. He shuddered as Victor rocked against him, determined not to push back against him, but with Victor’s hand around his cock made it hard not to squirm. “I could stop you,” Aidan whispered. It was a reminder for both of them, an acknowledgement that this was close to crossing a line, but, thus far, Aidan didn’t object. It was a new kind of risk, one that he might actually get off on if Victor didn’t stop.
It would’ve been a lie to say that Aidan hadn’t been on his mind since the first break-in, but Victor had been doing his best to put it all out of his mind. Tonight was definitely going to undo all that work, but he had the feeling it would stay on Aidan’s mind too, so it felt less pathetic. Fuck, the way his body shivered made Victor’s cock throb. He wanted him on the bed behind them, spread wide and bound to the frame while Victor played his body like an instrument. At the same time, this was perfect, breathless and overheated and too-close. “But you don’t want to,” he whispered back, his lips brushing against the edge of Aidan’s ear. It was like being given permission, an admission that Aidan knew he wasn’t powerless, and they hadn’t hit his limit yet, and that only encouraged Victor to push him more. He slid his hand further down to cup more of Aidan’s crotch, exploring him for a few heartbeats before he started to undo the fly of his jeans. Victor pressed his lips to Aidan’s neck, behind his ear, sucking a bit as he got Aidan’s clothes loose enough to slide his hand inside to touch him for real.
Aidan had been with strangers before, but never like this. They were all the same—girls he’d picked up in bars and fucked somewhere between the bar and their place. The chemistry was short-lived and they left his brain soon after he came. No one lingered. Aya was the only exception, but she’d never held his attention like this and he’d certainly never held hers. Besides, they were stuck together. There was no risk and the fear that this could go sideways was part of the draw. Victor was taking advantage of him and Aidan was letting him because it felt fucking good. He pushed back against Victor as his lips touched his skin and the ridge of Victor’s erection pressed tight against Aidan’s ass. Feeling the evidence of his arousal was tantalizing, making him want more even while he thought that might be too much. “Fuck,” he moaned softly as Victor’s hand dipped into his pants, pushing back again in a mockery of escape. He wasn’t going anywhere, but he liked the idea that he couldn’t, that Victor was going to pleasure him whether he liked it or not.
Victor’s breath caught every time Aidan bucked against him like that, jolts of pleasure shooting up his cock. They both knew he wasn’t trying to get away, but Victor jerked his hips to push against him harder. Inside the front of Aidan’s jeans, Victor’s hand caressed him, exploring the shape and size of his cock before he wrapped long fingers tightly around the shaft. He’d had more than his share of one night stands himself, with forgettable women and men both -- he recalled a lot of them with very clear fondness, of course, but those tended to be the more kinky encounters. Victor had never been in a position that felt this raw and organic though. There’d been no negotiation here, not even a casual ‘what are you into’ chat. There was just this dark instinct driving Victor and the way Aidan’s body was begging for more. Victor stroked him slowly as he kissed Aidan’s neck in a few other spots, letting his teeth graze against skin. After a moment he pulled his hand free and lifted his fingers up to Aidan’s mouth. “Spit,” he demanded quietly before he nipped at Aidan’s ear.
It was fascinating how much better it could be to be touched by someone else. Aidan knew his own body, knew exactly how he liked to be stroked and the fastest way to get himself off, but it was almost always better when it was someone else’s hand doing the touching. They might not have the right technique, but that didn’t seem to matter. The exploration alone was a turn-on and the stroking paired with the kisses made it hard to think straight. Aidan wasn’t sure what Victor was going to get out of this, but he didn’t care at the moment. He’d spit in his hand if it meant he’d keep this up, though he did shoot him a glare over his shoulder, just because he could. Because he liked that little bit of teeth, but wasn’t about to tell Victor that. It would be evident in his arousal, in how his body betrayed him, even when his tongue stayed silent. He spit in Victor’s hand, then waited for the touch to follow, knowing full well how much better it would be with a little lubrication.
It was in the same vein as not being able to tickle yourself -- there were just some sensations that couldn’t be recreated solo. Victor knew that frustration very intimately lately. He was only thinking a few seconds ahead, more present in this moment than he’d felt in a long time, so he had no plans yet for his own climax, he was too engrossed in the idea of making Aidan shake and moan. Victor’s hand dropped again, dipping into Aidan’s boxers to wrap around him again. The stolen saliva made things nice and slick, and Victor let out a soft grunt as he started to stroke Aidan’s cock, firm but slow. The hot velvety skin sliding against his palm was intensely erotic, and he felt some precum leak out of his own cock. Victor rolled his hips to grind against Aidan’s ass, his breathing picking up.
Aidan tried to show some restraint, remaining as still as possible as Victor began to stroke him. At first there was just his soft pants in the darkness, but then he began to rock his hips forward into Victor’s hand, then back against Victor. Whatever thoughts he’d had in his head began to fade into nothing. There was only chasing that feeling and leaving the rest to instinct. Aidan wasn’t naturally loud during sex, but the closer he got, the more little moans escaped him. He struggled to keep his hands on the wall and eventually dropped one to reach back for Victor, briefly grabbing his hip and tugging him against him before placing his hand back on the wall. He needed the stability as his knees became weak, his climax drawing closer.
Victor felt almost drunk on power, his body electrified by the way he’d pulled Aidan from protesting to wantonly fucking his fist. Those soft noises were music to his ears, and a sharper throb of pleasure pulsed through his body every time Aidan pushed his ass back against him. Thinking about yanking Aidan’s jeans down further and burying his cock inside of him was hot, but not what Victor actually wanted to do. He wanted this, to drive Aidan out of his mind with unexpected pleasure, to force him into ecstasy he didn’t necessarily want, to show him that the power wasn’t all on his side. Aidan’s body wanted it, that much was clear, and Victor groaned a bit himself at the way Aidan pulled him in tighter. He slid his free arm around Aidan’s chest, holding him tighter to help support him while Victor’s hand worked harder and faster over his straining cock. The more sadistic part of him was tempted to stop and leave him wanting, send him home horny and aching, but Victor wanted to feel it happen more than that. “Come for me,” he whispered into Aidan’s ear, tightening his grip even further.
Aidan could’ve made the argument that this was wrong, that Victor was taking advantage of him, but that wasn’t really true when he was allowing it to happen. He’d gone from protesting to actively participating, fucking Victor’s fist until Victor took over, holding him tight and pumping him hard and fast. Control may have just been an illusion, yet Aidan could feel it slip away, leaving him at Victor’s mercy. He was already close when Victor spoke, but it was those words that did him in—the idea that this was for him, that he could even command such a thing, somehow pushed him over the edge. Aidan’s head tipped forward as he cursed and came hard into Victor’s hand, his seed splattering against the wall. It was a mess, just as he was, a visual sign of his recklessness and surrender. He could not rationalize the experience, but he didn’t want to, not at the moment. He just wanted to enjoy it as he caught his breath, then he’d figure out what happened next.
Fuck, it was hot to feel Aidan’s body tense and shake against him, and Victor’s arm tightened around his chest while he came. He grinned faintly in the dark, exhaling a few soft words of encouragement, his hand slowing down. He didn’t stop completely though, wanting to keep Aidan twitching while he squeezed out every drop. Victor didn’t give a shit about the wall or the cleanup he would have to do later, he was fully in the moment, full of a triumphant feeling that made his cock throb. “Good boy,” Victor murmured to him once Aidan’s dick stopped jumping in his fist. He nipped at his ear again as he wiped his palm against Aidan’s jeans. He dipped his hand into the same pocket again, efficiently this time, and pulled out the crystal knickknack Aidan had taken. It was pretty but useless, and Victor was tempted to let him keep it, but hadn’t he already been nice enough? He clucked his tongue and released Aidan, taking a couple of steps back to give him room. “Time to go,” he said softly.
A little laugh bubbled up in Aidan’s chest, surprised as he was by the praise. He was pretty sure no one in his adult life had ever said such a thing to him, certainly not for getting off. It felt wrong and right at the same time, and Aidan suspected he’d play those words over in his head in an effort to figure them out. Had he done something right? Could he replicate it? What had started as a challenge was now a puzzle—a game and a possible addiction. He didn’t even remember the crystal in his pocket until Victor fished it out and stepped back, giving him space. For a moment he just stood there, expression falling as uncertainty set in. It had felt good to be used, but not as much to be discarded and dismissed. He missed Victor’s hands on him, his breath on his ear and the sting of those sharp teeth. The space between them now felt huge. “You sure?” he whispered, tucking himself back into his pants and straightening his clothes. He could disappear if Victor wanted him to, but he’d probably be back. The second Victor removed the crystal from his pocket, Aidan had his excuse to return.
Victor had no idea of what kind of experience Aidan had, with casual sex or power play or anything like this, so it was even harder to guess what he was thinking and feeling. In the back of Victor’s mind, he knew better than to just pull away from a sub and send them packing with no aftercare, but this wasn’t exactly a normal situation he’d carefully thought through and planned for. Quite the opposite, and with the front of his jeans feeling so tight and throbby, he was still running mostly on impulse. A cocky little smile bloomed on Victor’s face and he lifted an eyebrow. “Are you volunteering to stay?” he asked, his tone suggestive enough to make it clear they wouldn’t just be having tea and chatting if Aidan did stay. He was welcome to give Victor a hand in return, so to speak, but considering the dubious consent at play and the post-nut clarity that would probably be kicking in quickly, Victor didn’t expect it. He definitely wasn’t going to force it, in spite of his behavior so far. Wringing pleasure out of someone else’s body was one thing, making them give it crossed the line in his head. He idly passed the round crystal from one palm to the other, his eyes on Aidan.
Aidan wasn’t stupid; he knew he wouldn’t be staying for a chat, but with all the post-orgasmic brain fog he hadn’t thought a lot about what it might entail. His eyes dropped to Victor’s crotch, openly ogling him as his mind and body played catch up with his mouth. The desire he’d felt moments ago was draining, leaving curiosity to battle uncertainty with a touch of fear. While he wanted to see what it would be like to touch Victor, to make him gasp and moan and lose control, he wasn’t sure of all that came with it. He could end up regretting it and, while it felt cowardly to run, it felt like the smarter move for the moment. “Maybe next time,” he said, his lips twisting into a little smirk. His chest felt empty, crawling with a sense of doubt, but he’d already shown enough weakness for one night. He’d been given an out and he should take it, even if it felt wrong.
At least Aidan wasn’t reacting with outright disgust and anger, two things he would’ve been entitled to. Instead, the way he stared at Victor’s bulge made him feel tingly and tempted to just unzip and see what happened, but he resisted. Aidan had given him plenty of inspiration to take care of himself, but he wanted to do it in private, keep his sense of control. There was a vibe of uncertainty starting to fill the air that threatened to grow into a buzzkill -- if the cute magical hillbilly didn’t want to be the warm body to get him off, Victor was done with him for now. “Next time,” he murmured with an enigmatic little smirk of his own. He didn’t know if Aidan would actually ever turn up again, or avoid him like the plague now, but Victor was game to find out. “You know the way out. Don’t take anything else.”
Aidan snorted in response and, with a flick of his wrist, the crystal Victor had been idly tossing moved to float in the air. He left it hanging there as he turned his back on Victor and walked out the door, a display of his own power. It should take some effort for Victor to move it, at least until Aidan got far enough away. Though his expression might have been hidden, the amusement was clear in his voice as he left. “Like you could stop me.” He knew he shouldn’t taunt him, not when Victor was so wound up, but he couldn’t help himself. If Victor wanted to fantasize about all the ways he could stop him, then Aidan was happy to throw fuel to the fire, even as he walked out the door.
Victor’s face cycled through surprise and annoyance and back into mild amusement as he studied the bauble hovering in the air. Well wasn’t that a fun party trick. Aidan wasn’t the only one who could do those. Victor waited until the other man was out in the hallway then closed his eyes to concentrate enough to call up a small rain cloud above Aidan’s head to follow him as he moved. A gentle rain started to fall on him as he headed toward the stairs. Victor made sure not to make it too cold, and he let it dissipate by the time Aidan reached the bottom of the steps. “Fuckin’ brat,” Victor muttered, though he couldn’t help but grin. The sass was hot, he could admit that to himself. It made him want to smack Aidan around a little and make him whimper, punish him in an enjoyable manner. Victor would go down later to see if the brat had actually swiped anything else, for the moment he was more than ready to give his aching dick some relief. Leaving the crystal hovering where it was until whenever it dropped to the carpet, Victor made a beeline for his bathroom to get a shower going.
Aidan paused briefly as the raincloud appeared over his head and snickered as it began to rain on him. “Asshole,” he muttered, trying to bat the cloud away before continuing on. If Victor thought a little water was going to bother him, he was sorely mistaken—after all, he’d gotten soaked twice the last time he’d broken in, once from the rain outside, then again from the curse. As his hair began to soak through, he ran his fingers through it and made sure to flick the water onto the floor. He generally prized himself for leaving no trace behind, but he wanted Victor to remember he’d been there, even if it was just a minor annoyance. He considered swiping something on his way out, but decided against it. Someday he’d steal something from Victor and make him hunt him down to get it back, but he wasn’t quite ready for that.