Sara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-03 09:01 pm
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-03 09:01 pm
Fake News (RPF) | The Way Things Need To Be | NC-17 | Brian/Jon (6/10)
Title: The Way Things Need To Be (6/10)
Fandom: Fake News (RPF)
Rating: NC-17 for this part.
Pairing: Brian/Jon and others.
Warning: AU; BDSM.
Summary: In a universe where people are primarily defined by position—whether they are dominant, a switch, or submissive—Jon and others struggle to deal with dating, prejudice, and the drama that comes from not fitting neatly inside society’s narrowly-defined idea of how things should be.
Word Count: 2,277 for this part.
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use. References to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: See masterpost for full header, author’s notes, and thanks.
Lunch with Amy and Paul could only serve to brighten one’s spirits, even when one didn’t know they needed brightening—at least, that was what Stephen thought. That they didn’t get to do this enough was another thought he had, and he was actually fairly sure that one could be agreed upon by both Paul and Amy as well.
“Hey, it’s my turn to get the check,” Stephen said, as their lunch neared an end. “Amy got it last time, remember?”
“Doesn’t that make it my turn?” Paul asked.
“Nope,” Stephen said. “The order goes Amy, me, then you.”
Paul gave him a dubious look. “I think you’re full of shit.”
“Possibly, but I’m still getting the check this time,” Stephen said, grinning. Paul rolled his eyes, and Amy, for her part, just watched Paul and Stephen in obvious amusement.
Their waiter passed by then, and Stephen asked cheerfully, “Could you bring us the check, please?”
He nodded. “Of course,” he said, and then promptly disappeared.
“We have to do this more often,” Stephen then said to his friends. “These lunches are too infrequent.”
Amy smiled. “I can agree with that,” he said. “But you’re always so busy, Stephen.”
“So are you,” Paul pointed out.
“I think we’re all busy,” Stephen said. “We should still try to make time more often.”
That was when the waiter returned. Stephen was two seconds away from holding his hand out for the check when he noticed the man glance at his and Paul’s collars. Stephen rolled his eyes when he then handed the check to Amy. “Anything else I can help you with?”
“No, that’ll be all,” Amy said, and the waiter nodded, leaving once again. “Douchebag,” she added easily, giving the check to Stephen.
Stephen rolled his eyes. “I’m used to it,” he said. “When Evie and I go out, they always give the check to her.”
“I confuse them, so they don’t like me,” Paul said, grinning. “The joys of being a switch. One month I went to this restaurant on a date with a dom, and the next month I went back to the same place with a sub. I got a few dirty looks from the waitstaff.”
Amy snorted. “I’ll bet,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve only ever been out a few times where the waiter didn’t automatically give me the check, as opposed to whoever asked for it.”
“It’s a built-in reflex,” Stephen said. “Annoying, though.” He slipped his credit card into the holder for the bill and set it down on the table. When the waiter walked by again, he personally handed it to him with a bit of a pointed look, though the guy apparently did not notice. The three of them exchanged a look as he walked away. “I try not to let it bother me.” Of course, he didn’t always succeed.
* * *
Jon looked up when he heard someone walk into his office—Brian. “You’re a little early,” he said, glancing at his clock. They’d planned on going out for lunch at one-thirty, but it wasn’t quite yet one. Then he noticed the black shopping bag Brian was carrying. “What’s in the bag?” he asked curiously.
Brian smirked at him. “Trust me, I’m not early,” he said, closing and locking the door behind him. “Stand up.”
Jon blinked but obeyed, standing up. “What—”
“No talking,” Brian said. “Come here.”
Jon was definitely interested by this point, and did as he was told. “Good boy,” Brian said, and chuckled at the look Jon shot him. He kissed him deeply, pulling him close, and Jon responded enthusiastically.
“I’m cuffing your hands behind your back, gagging you, and bending you over your desk,” Brian murmured into his ear, voice low enough to be a growl. He pulled a leather gag and cuffs out of the bag, showing them to Jon. “What do you think about that? You can speak.”
Jon’s eyes widened at the sight. “Oh, fuck yes,” he breathed.
Brian smiled. “Clear off your desk.”
Jon immediately moved to his desk, shoving the papers currently covering it onto the floor. He wasn’t really concerned with being neat, already half-hard in anticipation.
“Hands behind your back,” Brian ordered, walking over, and Jon did as he was told. He felt Brian cuff his hands securely behind his back and let out a soft whimper.
“Please, Brian, I want—”
“You want me to fuck you,” Brian said, unbuttoning and unzipping Jon’s pants from behind. He pushed them down, followed by his boxers, before roughly bending him over his desk. “Take you. Claim you.”
“Yes,” Jon choked, moaning when he felt Brian’s hand on his cock. “Please.”
“I admit I love to hear you,” Brian said, “but we probably shouldn’t be that loud right now. That’s why I brought the gag.”
“Whatever you want, Brian, just please,” Jon moaned.
Brian secured the gag around his face, making sure it wasn’t too tight or too loose, and then his hand was back on his cock and his mouth was on his neck. Jon let out a few muffled groans, whimpering when Brian pushed him hard against his desk and he could feel his clothed erection against his ass.
“You look incredible,” Brian said, and Jon shivered at the breath against his ear. He wanted to demand Brian fuck him already, but with the gag obviously preventing that, all he could do was let out a muffled moan. “Almost good enough to keep you like this for awhile.”
Jon twisted his head back abruptly at that, and was promptly smacked on the ass. “Did I say you could move?”
Shaking his head vigorously, Jon looked back down at his desk. “I won’t today,” Brian continued. “But someday. I’ll cuff you to the bed and play with you when I want to, leave you like that when I don’t.”
Jon wanted to cry out in frustration until he heard the sound of the bag rustling again, and moments later felt a slicked-up finger pressing inside of him. The gag muffled his groans as he pushed back, desperate for more. “You’re so eager,” Brian said as he added another finger, and Jon clenched his fists together in frustration. The man was such a tease.
The gag muffled his outcry when Brian’s slick cock suddenly pushed inside of him, swiftly. Holy fuck, he thought, wanting to yell at the feeling. Brian’s thrusts were slow, deliberate, powerful, and through the gag Jon let out a series of muffled whimpers, moans, and groans.
“Jon, god, you feel amazing,” Brian choked, and Jon relished the feel of the man gripping his hips as he pounded into him. He was being taken, and fuck did it feel fucking good. So good. Too good. He wasn’t going to last, and Brian hadn’t given him permission to come yet.
“Getting close?” Brian managed to ask, his thrusts increasing in speed and force. Jon nodded, fingernails digging into his palms as he clenched his fists tightly again. “Not yet, Jon. Don’t you dare come before I say.”
Jon nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. One of Brian’s hands had wrapped around his cock again, and it was an onslaught to his senses—Brian fucking him hard, fast, as his hand worked his cock expertly. He was so fucking close, but he tried to hold back. He thought of everything he could to stop himself from coming.
One more powerful thrust, two, three, and Jon could feel Brian finishing. “Fuck, Jon,” he groaned. “Now.”
With one last stroke of his cock, that undid him—Jon surely would have screamed as he finally came, had it not been for the gag. His orgasm charged through him, and he fell forward, collapsing on the desk in front of him and panting heavily. He was only vaguely aware of Brian pulling out and removing the gag.
“Fuck, Brian,” he breathed. “That—oh god.” He righted himself, even though his legs felt like jelly, and watch as Brian pulled up first his own pants and then Jon’s as well. He carefully fastened them before giving Jon a kiss.
“Glad you liked,” he said. “I hope you’re hungry now. We can go for lunch.”
Jon raised an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He indicated his hands, which were still cuffed behind his back.
Brian smirked. “No,” he said. “I’m not uncuffing you just yet. Come on, Jon. Let’s go.” He took hold of Jon’s arm, leading him to the door. Just before they stepped outside, Brian added, “Mine.”
Realizing what Brian was doing for him, Jon gave him a small, appreciative smile. “Yours,” he agreed, and then they headed out of his office.
* * *
“Is Jon here?” Stephen asked Kristen, since she was the first person he’d run into after finding Jon’s office deserted.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You just missed him. He and Brian left for lunch.” She smiled a little. “Brian had him cuffed as they left. Quite the spectacle.”
Stephen smirked at that. “I think that was probably the point,” he said.
She shrugged. “Want me to tell Jon you were looking for him?”
“I—yeah, actually, wait, no, don’t worry about it,” he replied. “It’s not important.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to tell him about this douchebag waiter at lunch. No big deal.”
“What sort of douchebag waiter?”
“You know the kind. The ones who hand the check to the dom at the table, regardless of who asked for it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Subs can never pay for their own food, Stephen. That’d require knowing how to take care of ourselves, and that certainly can’t be the case.”
“Of course,” Stephen said, then gave her a curious look. “What happens when you and Demetri go out?”
“A lot of waiters pointedly set the check on the table. We usually get disdainful looks. Not just from the waitstaff, either—other customers, too.”
“That sucks,” he noted.
“Yeah.” She snorted. “We once had this dom walk up to us and try to pick us both up. When we told him we weren’t interested, he got pissed. You’d think I’d be used to that kind of thing by now, but nope. I still react every time.”
“I guess I can understand that,” Stephen said. “I mean, we have this new jackass intern, total bigot—it’s nothing I’ve never heard before, of course, but...”
“But it’s still infuriating?”
“Exactly.”
She smiled sadly. “I know exactly what you mean, Stephen.”
“Yeah, I suppose you do,” he agreed. “How have you been?”
“My parents aren’t speaking to me right now,” she said, sounding tired. “You, um, know that rally, last month? The one I organized?”
Stephen nodded; he’d heard about it on the news, after the police had intervened on some bogus allegation of violence. “Sure, why?”
“They...found out that I was behind it. They’re furious.”
“I’m sorry,” Stephen said, wincing. He imagined how terribly her parents would’ve taken news like that; even his own fairly progressive mother would balk at the idea of sub activism. “I wish there was more I could do.”
“There is, and you know it,” Kristen snapped, suddenly angry. The anger was gone as quickly as it had come, and she must’ve noticed his surprised look, because she shook her head apologetically not two seconds later. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. It’s just...some days I feel like I’m in this alone, and that it’s pointless, and lately with my parents…” she trailed off. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Stephen said. “You’re not wrong. I could do more.”
“No you couldn’t. We both know why you couldn’t, at least not publicly. You’d lose your job. Fighting for equality is considered misguided at best and dangerous at worst. You’re too high-profile.” She sighed, frustrated. “It’s just so ridiculous, you know? What the fuck is so scary about subs being able to have the same career opportunities as doms? Why shouldn’t gay subs be allowed to marry—gay doms can! Why should a sub be paid less for doing the same fucking job as a dom, and why should it be so hard for a sub to be a supervisor in the workplace? The dynamic works for a lot of people, and I get that, but why can’t it stay at home, where it belongs? Is respect such a hard concept for people to grasp?”
Stephen didn’t know how to respond for a second. “I think people just hear the word ‘equality’ and automatically freak out,” he said slowly. He had to admit, while everything she’d just said was entirely valid and he agreed wholeheartedly, his stomach still clenched involuntarily at the word equal. The thought of never being controlled by anyone, even a little, made him very slightly panicky. “They don’t listen to your argument after that. They’ve already made up their minds against you.”
“Which is bullshit.”
“It’s absolutely bullshit,” Stephen agreed. “But things have gotten better,” he added. “Thanks to people like you. I mean, look at Jon and I. We’re hosts of nightly comedy shows. Thirty years ago, the idea of subs having jobs like ours was laughable.”
“There’s still a long way to go, and you know it.”
“I didn’t say there wasn’t. I’m just saying that it’s not hopeless.”
“Yeah,” she said, “I guess you’re right.”
He smiled at her. “You know I’m right. You wouldn’t be doing this if I weren’t right.”
Kristen smiled back, albeit weakly. “Thanks, Stephen. You know, for a sub, you’re halfway intelligent.”
He grinned at her, bowing his head in mock submission. “Thank you. I’m honored that you think so.”
Fandom: Fake News (RPF)
Rating: NC-17 for this part.
Pairing: Brian/Jon and others.
Warning: AU; BDSM.
Summary: In a universe where people are primarily defined by position—whether they are dominant, a switch, or submissive—Jon and others struggle to deal with dating, prejudice, and the drama that comes from not fitting neatly inside society’s narrowly-defined idea of how things should be.
Word Count: 2,277 for this part.
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use. References to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: See masterpost for full header, author’s notes, and thanks.
Lunch with Amy and Paul could only serve to brighten one’s spirits, even when one didn’t know they needed brightening—at least, that was what Stephen thought. That they didn’t get to do this enough was another thought he had, and he was actually fairly sure that one could be agreed upon by both Paul and Amy as well.
“Hey, it’s my turn to get the check,” Stephen said, as their lunch neared an end. “Amy got it last time, remember?”
“Doesn’t that make it my turn?” Paul asked.
“Nope,” Stephen said. “The order goes Amy, me, then you.”
Paul gave him a dubious look. “I think you’re full of shit.”
“Possibly, but I’m still getting the check this time,” Stephen said, grinning. Paul rolled his eyes, and Amy, for her part, just watched Paul and Stephen in obvious amusement.
Their waiter passed by then, and Stephen asked cheerfully, “Could you bring us the check, please?”
He nodded. “Of course,” he said, and then promptly disappeared.
“We have to do this more often,” Stephen then said to his friends. “These lunches are too infrequent.”
Amy smiled. “I can agree with that,” he said. “But you’re always so busy, Stephen.”
“So are you,” Paul pointed out.
“I think we’re all busy,” Stephen said. “We should still try to make time more often.”
That was when the waiter returned. Stephen was two seconds away from holding his hand out for the check when he noticed the man glance at his and Paul’s collars. Stephen rolled his eyes when he then handed the check to Amy. “Anything else I can help you with?”
“No, that’ll be all,” Amy said, and the waiter nodded, leaving once again. “Douchebag,” she added easily, giving the check to Stephen.
Stephen rolled his eyes. “I’m used to it,” he said. “When Evie and I go out, they always give the check to her.”
“I confuse them, so they don’t like me,” Paul said, grinning. “The joys of being a switch. One month I went to this restaurant on a date with a dom, and the next month I went back to the same place with a sub. I got a few dirty looks from the waitstaff.”
Amy snorted. “I’ll bet,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve only ever been out a few times where the waiter didn’t automatically give me the check, as opposed to whoever asked for it.”
“It’s a built-in reflex,” Stephen said. “Annoying, though.” He slipped his credit card into the holder for the bill and set it down on the table. When the waiter walked by again, he personally handed it to him with a bit of a pointed look, though the guy apparently did not notice. The three of them exchanged a look as he walked away. “I try not to let it bother me.” Of course, he didn’t always succeed.
Jon looked up when he heard someone walk into his office—Brian. “You’re a little early,” he said, glancing at his clock. They’d planned on going out for lunch at one-thirty, but it wasn’t quite yet one. Then he noticed the black shopping bag Brian was carrying. “What’s in the bag?” he asked curiously.
Brian smirked at him. “Trust me, I’m not early,” he said, closing and locking the door behind him. “Stand up.”
Jon blinked but obeyed, standing up. “What—”
“No talking,” Brian said. “Come here.”
Jon was definitely interested by this point, and did as he was told. “Good boy,” Brian said, and chuckled at the look Jon shot him. He kissed him deeply, pulling him close, and Jon responded enthusiastically.
“I’m cuffing your hands behind your back, gagging you, and bending you over your desk,” Brian murmured into his ear, voice low enough to be a growl. He pulled a leather gag and cuffs out of the bag, showing them to Jon. “What do you think about that? You can speak.”
Jon’s eyes widened at the sight. “Oh, fuck yes,” he breathed.
Brian smiled. “Clear off your desk.”
Jon immediately moved to his desk, shoving the papers currently covering it onto the floor. He wasn’t really concerned with being neat, already half-hard in anticipation.
“Hands behind your back,” Brian ordered, walking over, and Jon did as he was told. He felt Brian cuff his hands securely behind his back and let out a soft whimper.
“Please, Brian, I want—”
“You want me to fuck you,” Brian said, unbuttoning and unzipping Jon’s pants from behind. He pushed them down, followed by his boxers, before roughly bending him over his desk. “Take you. Claim you.”
“Yes,” Jon choked, moaning when he felt Brian’s hand on his cock. “Please.”
“I admit I love to hear you,” Brian said, “but we probably shouldn’t be that loud right now. That’s why I brought the gag.”
“Whatever you want, Brian, just please,” Jon moaned.
Brian secured the gag around his face, making sure it wasn’t too tight or too loose, and then his hand was back on his cock and his mouth was on his neck. Jon let out a few muffled groans, whimpering when Brian pushed him hard against his desk and he could feel his clothed erection against his ass.
“You look incredible,” Brian said, and Jon shivered at the breath against his ear. He wanted to demand Brian fuck him already, but with the gag obviously preventing that, all he could do was let out a muffled moan. “Almost good enough to keep you like this for awhile.”
Jon twisted his head back abruptly at that, and was promptly smacked on the ass. “Did I say you could move?”
Shaking his head vigorously, Jon looked back down at his desk. “I won’t today,” Brian continued. “But someday. I’ll cuff you to the bed and play with you when I want to, leave you like that when I don’t.”
Jon wanted to cry out in frustration until he heard the sound of the bag rustling again, and moments later felt a slicked-up finger pressing inside of him. The gag muffled his groans as he pushed back, desperate for more. “You’re so eager,” Brian said as he added another finger, and Jon clenched his fists together in frustration. The man was such a tease.
The gag muffled his outcry when Brian’s slick cock suddenly pushed inside of him, swiftly. Holy fuck, he thought, wanting to yell at the feeling. Brian’s thrusts were slow, deliberate, powerful, and through the gag Jon let out a series of muffled whimpers, moans, and groans.
“Jon, god, you feel amazing,” Brian choked, and Jon relished the feel of the man gripping his hips as he pounded into him. He was being taken, and fuck did it feel fucking good. So good. Too good. He wasn’t going to last, and Brian hadn’t given him permission to come yet.
“Getting close?” Brian managed to ask, his thrusts increasing in speed and force. Jon nodded, fingernails digging into his palms as he clenched his fists tightly again. “Not yet, Jon. Don’t you dare come before I say.”
Jon nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. One of Brian’s hands had wrapped around his cock again, and it was an onslaught to his senses—Brian fucking him hard, fast, as his hand worked his cock expertly. He was so fucking close, but he tried to hold back. He thought of everything he could to stop himself from coming.
One more powerful thrust, two, three, and Jon could feel Brian finishing. “Fuck, Jon,” he groaned. “Now.”
With one last stroke of his cock, that undid him—Jon surely would have screamed as he finally came, had it not been for the gag. His orgasm charged through him, and he fell forward, collapsing on the desk in front of him and panting heavily. He was only vaguely aware of Brian pulling out and removing the gag.
“Fuck, Brian,” he breathed. “That—oh god.” He righted himself, even though his legs felt like jelly, and watch as Brian pulled up first his own pants and then Jon’s as well. He carefully fastened them before giving Jon a kiss.
“Glad you liked,” he said. “I hope you’re hungry now. We can go for lunch.”
Jon raised an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He indicated his hands, which were still cuffed behind his back.
Brian smirked. “No,” he said. “I’m not uncuffing you just yet. Come on, Jon. Let’s go.” He took hold of Jon’s arm, leading him to the door. Just before they stepped outside, Brian added, “Mine.”
Realizing what Brian was doing for him, Jon gave him a small, appreciative smile. “Yours,” he agreed, and then they headed out of his office.
“Is Jon here?” Stephen asked Kristen, since she was the first person he’d run into after finding Jon’s office deserted.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You just missed him. He and Brian left for lunch.” She smiled a little. “Brian had him cuffed as they left. Quite the spectacle.”
Stephen smirked at that. “I think that was probably the point,” he said.
She shrugged. “Want me to tell Jon you were looking for him?”
“I—yeah, actually, wait, no, don’t worry about it,” he replied. “It’s not important.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to tell him about this douchebag waiter at lunch. No big deal.”
“What sort of douchebag waiter?”
“You know the kind. The ones who hand the check to the dom at the table, regardless of who asked for it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Subs can never pay for their own food, Stephen. That’d require knowing how to take care of ourselves, and that certainly can’t be the case.”
“Of course,” Stephen said, then gave her a curious look. “What happens when you and Demetri go out?”
“A lot of waiters pointedly set the check on the table. We usually get disdainful looks. Not just from the waitstaff, either—other customers, too.”
“That sucks,” he noted.
“Yeah.” She snorted. “We once had this dom walk up to us and try to pick us both up. When we told him we weren’t interested, he got pissed. You’d think I’d be used to that kind of thing by now, but nope. I still react every time.”
“I guess I can understand that,” Stephen said. “I mean, we have this new jackass intern, total bigot—it’s nothing I’ve never heard before, of course, but...”
“But it’s still infuriating?”
“Exactly.”
She smiled sadly. “I know exactly what you mean, Stephen.”
“Yeah, I suppose you do,” he agreed. “How have you been?”
“My parents aren’t speaking to me right now,” she said, sounding tired. “You, um, know that rally, last month? The one I organized?”
Stephen nodded; he’d heard about it on the news, after the police had intervened on some bogus allegation of violence. “Sure, why?”
“They...found out that I was behind it. They’re furious.”
“I’m sorry,” Stephen said, wincing. He imagined how terribly her parents would’ve taken news like that; even his own fairly progressive mother would balk at the idea of sub activism. “I wish there was more I could do.”
“There is, and you know it,” Kristen snapped, suddenly angry. The anger was gone as quickly as it had come, and she must’ve noticed his surprised look, because she shook her head apologetically not two seconds later. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. It’s just...some days I feel like I’m in this alone, and that it’s pointless, and lately with my parents…” she trailed off. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Stephen said. “You’re not wrong. I could do more.”
“No you couldn’t. We both know why you couldn’t, at least not publicly. You’d lose your job. Fighting for equality is considered misguided at best and dangerous at worst. You’re too high-profile.” She sighed, frustrated. “It’s just so ridiculous, you know? What the fuck is so scary about subs being able to have the same career opportunities as doms? Why shouldn’t gay subs be allowed to marry—gay doms can! Why should a sub be paid less for doing the same fucking job as a dom, and why should it be so hard for a sub to be a supervisor in the workplace? The dynamic works for a lot of people, and I get that, but why can’t it stay at home, where it belongs? Is respect such a hard concept for people to grasp?”
Stephen didn’t know how to respond for a second. “I think people just hear the word ‘equality’ and automatically freak out,” he said slowly. He had to admit, while everything she’d just said was entirely valid and he agreed wholeheartedly, his stomach still clenched involuntarily at the word equal. The thought of never being controlled by anyone, even a little, made him very slightly panicky. “They don’t listen to your argument after that. They’ve already made up their minds against you.”
“Which is bullshit.”
“It’s absolutely bullshit,” Stephen agreed. “But things have gotten better,” he added. “Thanks to people like you. I mean, look at Jon and I. We’re hosts of nightly comedy shows. Thirty years ago, the idea of subs having jobs like ours was laughable.”
“There’s still a long way to go, and you know it.”
“I didn’t say there wasn’t. I’m just saying that it’s not hopeless.”
“Yeah,” she said, “I guess you’re right.”
He smiled at her. “You know I’m right. You wouldn’t be doing this if I weren’t right.”
Kristen smiled back, albeit weakly. “Thanks, Stephen. You know, for a sub, you’re halfway intelligent.”
He grinned at her, bowing his head in mock submission. “Thank you. I’m honored that you think so.”