Page 33 of First Snow

“I thought you were a former doctor, not a fucking lawyer.” Arttu chuckles.

Jareth is relieved to see him in good spirits after such an intense session and an encounter with a bone fairy, however brief it may have been.

“By now you know an awful lot about me. I want to know more about you too. What do you do for a living?” Jareth asks. Maybe he can use the opportunity to finally elicit some information. Arttu smiles at him over his shoulder, seeming perfectly at ease, and Jareth can’t help but admire how well Arttu fits into his arms.

“My job is boring,” Arttu says, a self-deprecating smile flickering over his face. “I’m working at the finances department of the City of Helsinki. We manage the budget planning.”

Jareth hums. “I knew you were clever. Does that mean I could find you in your office in Helsinki wearing a nice suit every day of the week?”

Arttu laughs. “It’s far less glamorous. You could find me sharing a broom closet of an office with my colleague, Tuulia. And I prefer to wear jeans and band t-shirts at work.”

That, Jareth can imagine. The idea is no less pleasant. Peppering kisses over Arttu’s neck and shoulders, Jareth gently caresses Arttu’s sides, down to his ass. Arttu hisses. The pained sound makes Jareth withdraw his hands as if he’s been burned.

“Are you in pain?”

“No,” Arttu says lightly. “Just a little sore.”

Jareth isn’t convinced. “Lie on your belly. I want to take a look.”

Arttu obeys, although Jareth isn’t sure if he’s rolling his eyes again as he turns around, insolent little thing that he is. But he allows Jareth to inspect the damage.

Arttu’s pretty ass and thighs are covered with red marks, some shaped like handprints and others showing the long lines of the whip. The plug still sits in its place. A wave of affection and protectiveness rushes over Jareth at the sight. He decides that he can forgive Arttu for his brazenness this one time. He presses a kiss to the small of Arttu’s back instead.

“You’ve been so very good for me, darling.”

Arttu makes a needy, breathy sound, spreading his legs to give Jareth better access. He’s so desperate for touch it makes Jareth wonder whether he had to go without it for quite some time. Jareth snatches the medical lotion he uses for treating bruises from his bedside table and starts to apply a generous amount to Arttu’s abused skin. The way Arttu whines and groans at the attention, as if it’s already getting him excited again, rekindles Jareth’s own arousal tenfold.

“How long has it been since your last relationship?” Jareth asks, mostly to distract himself from his growing erection. This is about Arttu. He can still get off later when his sub is taken care of and asleep.

“It’s—oh!” Arttu breaks off on a moan as the plug is rocked by Jareth’s movements. “It’s been a while,” he manages between labored breaths.

“Shall I remove this?” Jareth asks, giving the plug a playful tug. Arttu spreads his legs wider, his hips grinding into the mattress.

“No! Yes—I mean could you—?” Arttu babbles, sending him a pleading look over his shoulder.

“Can I what, sweetheart?” Jareth teases. He already has an inkling of what Arttu wants, but it’s just too tempting to make his sub squirm.

“Hell, do I have to spell everything out for you?” Arttu hisses. “Fuck me. Could you please fuck me? Sir?”

Jareth chuckles as he drags his hands down Arttu’s sides torturously slowly. He really enjoys Arttu’s temper.

“I thought a good spanking would put you in your place, but apparently I haven’t been thorough enough,” Jareth taunts. He enjoys their banter too much to not rise to Arttu’s bait. He emphasizes his words by playing with the plug again, making Arttu tremble under his touch.

Arttu watches him with glazed eyes, his breath quickening. A soft sheen of sweat breaks out on his temples and the small of his back, but Jareth is content for several long minutes to simply massage the lotion into Arttu’s skin and move the plug from time to time. It doesn’t take long before Arttu can’t handle it anymore.

“Are you going to make me beg?” Arttu growls, a deep blush covering his cheeks. But he sounds dejected, not playful like before.

Jareth hurries to lean forward and covers him with his body, allowing his sub to feel his own excitement. “It depends,” he whispers against Arttu’s neck. “Would you enjoy that?”

Arttu shudders. “I—maybe. Another time. But today—”

“Shh,” Jareth hushes him. “Understood.”

Arttu slumps in relief.

Allowing himself a few seconds to breathe in Arttu’s scent, Jareth relishes in the glorious skin-to-skin contact and the feeling of Arttu’s body underneath him. Then he pulls away with some difficulty and reaches for a condom and lube. He carefully removes the plug, making Arttu whine and spread his legs even wider. His little sub is desperate, but Jareth won’t be rushed. He coats his fingers with lube and carefully probes at Arttu’s hole. Two fingers slip inside easily, and Arttu pushes back on them, clearly craving more. A string of broken moans and whimpers falls from Arttu’s lips as Jareth takes his time preparing him. Only when he’s absolutely sure he won’t be hurting Arttu, he retreats his fingers and aligns his cock with Arttu’s hole.

“Fuckingfinally,” Arttu breathes, moving back to meet him when Jareth pushes in.