Jedao perches on the edge of James's table, tugging at pieces of the other officer's uniform, rucking up James's shirt enough to slide a palm against his abdomen, warm except for his cool fingertips where he held his drink glass.
"Think we can make it to a bed this time?"
Rare for them, and even more unusual short of stumbling drunk, when getting each other off in slightly more precarious ways - against cave or bathroom or supply closet walls, on tables, bent over desks - becomes more difficult. But they're in James's nice little quarters in Three that he barely sees, because they could hardly discuss proprietary experiments in their usual bar.
Not that Jedao ever objected to this particular table before.
James' muscles flinch at Jedao's fingers, cool as glass on his skin, as he slides his hands around Jedao's waist.
He shrugs, and smiles wryly. "Well, I've noticed that you always achieve the goals you set for yourself, so I suppose it depends on how much it matters to you."
It's a quality he's always admired about him. James himself is ambitious and stubborn, and finds ways to get the outcomes he wants whether by force or by guile, but Jedao is like a goddamn force of nature sometimes.
Jedao nuzzles against James's jawline, feeling - oddly charmed by the roundabout compliment. They're long past needing or trying to charm one another, but it's nice to hear all the same.
"Right now my goal is your shirt," Jedao says, tugging a little more at various closures.
"I like to pretend it's not that you're easy, it's just that I'm that fucking irresistible. Let me have my delusions."
He drops his hands so that the uniform can slide off his arms. Easy. But also now Jedao has an advantage that James has to rectify. He untucks Jedao's shirt with a sharp yank and starts working on unfastening it.
Jedao shimmies out of it fast, with an almost liquid deftness, then drapes his arms around James's shoulders.
"Brace yourself, mister irresistible," he says dryly, before jumping, his weight pressing into James shoulders for a moment as he gets situated, and wrapping his legs around James's waist.
James steadies his stance, prepares to balance with Jedeo's weight, and as soon as Jedao's legs are around him, he holds him up with his arms wrapped around him.
"Now that you've placed me in charge of reaching our destination, what if I'm feeling contrary?"
"Maybe I'd bite you," Jedao teases/threatens. He kisses James again instead, enjoying the novelty of the angle, inverting James's usual two inch height advantage.
James's breath shudders against Jedao's skin. But his arms are beginning to tire from holding up his weight, and, more importantly, he's restricted in what he can touch and taste while in this position, so he walks to his bed to drop Jedao on it.
James falls on top of him and kisses along his jaw.
"You know this might become much less interesting for you once you're able to predict my every action. Did you think of that?"
Trivializing the risk if the experiment should fail, and the potential of it should it succeed, to cope with the unnerving possibility of either outcome.
He reaches down to draw his fingers along Jedao's cock through the fabric of his pants.
Purely to be ornery, James slides down Jedao's body and mouths him through his pants instead, leaving them in place. Oh, he'll take them off eventually, but he has to make the point that he doesn't give in immediately.
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"Think we can make it to a bed this time?"
Rare for them, and even more unusual short of stumbling drunk, when getting each other off in slightly more precarious ways - against cave or bathroom or supply closet walls, on tables, bent over desks - becomes more difficult. But they're in James's nice little quarters in Three that he barely sees, because they could hardly discuss proprietary experiments in their usual bar.
Not that Jedao ever objected to this particular table before.
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He shrugs, and smiles wryly. "Well, I've noticed that you always achieve the goals you set for yourself, so I suppose it depends on how much it matters to you."
It's a quality he's always admired about him. James himself is ambitious and stubborn, and finds ways to get the outcomes he wants whether by force or by guile, but Jedao is like a goddamn force of nature sometimes.
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"Right now my goal is your shirt," Jedao says, tugging a little more at various closures.
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"That's disappointingly easy. Where's the challenge in that?"
He teases and draws his hands away from Jedao to unfasten his uniform.
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He gets his hands on James's lapels, pushing the uniform off his shoulders.
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"I like to pretend it's not that you're easy, it's just that I'm that fucking irresistible. Let me have my delusions."
He drops his hands so that the uniform can slide off his arms. Easy. But also now Jedao has an advantage that James has to rectify. He untucks Jedao's shirt with a sharp yank and starts working on unfastening it.
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"Brace yourself, mister irresistible," he says dryly, before jumping, his weight pressing into James shoulders for a moment as he gets situated, and wrapping his legs around James's waist.
"Bed."
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"Now that you've placed me in charge of reaching our destination, what if I'm feeling contrary?"
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He does start to walk towards his bedroom, however.
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"You call that a bite, officer?" he teases.
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He reaches the door to his room. Which is closed. And his hands are full of Jedao.
"But if you don't have that door open in three seconds, you'll get real teeth."
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"Oh no, I forgot your -" he ruins his own bluff as the door swings open, grinning like a loon.
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No one has ever accused James of playing fair.
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"You know this might become much less interesting for you once you're able to predict my every action. Did you think of that?"
Trivializing the risk if the experiment should fail, and the potential of it should it succeed, to cope with the unnerving possibility of either outcome.
He reaches down to draw his fingers along Jedao's cock through the fabric of his pants.
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"Just for that I should leave you here and go make coffee instead."
But he, predictably, doesn't.
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"I predict you're gonna take someone's pants off." He leaves it to the whims of fate whose pants first.
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Purely to be ornery, James slides down Jedao's body and mouths him through his pants instead, leaving them in place. Oh, he'll take them off eventually, but he has to make the point that he doesn't give in immediately.
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