Solitary as an Oyster

As silly as it all seemed at first, the illusions began to work for Scrooge too, helped in no small part by some superbly skilled actors. A bewitching voice and some discerning gestures could easily transport him to a land far away, a place of fairies and dreams. He found himself gasping and applauding along with the rest of the audience most days, and even when the performers were less than ideal, there was usually something or another that he could enjoy about the production, skillful sets or interesting arrangements of the actors on stage. It also helped that Jacob for the most part seemed to enjoy them. Perhaps it was overly sentimental of Scrooge, but he liked that they could enjoy an interest together, and that Jacob had exposed him to something he never would have otherwise thought that he could enjoy. Most of all, he enjoyed the delight on Jacob’s face, evident even in the low light of the theater…watching him become immersed in the action, following every twist and turn, enthusiastically raising his hands in applause…As always, pleasure looked good on him and that was something to which Scrooge felt privileged to have a front row seat.

Jacob’s fondness for the theater made it even more of a surprise when, during a somewhat unimpressive performance, Jacob gave Scrooge’s knee a very insistent squeeze.

Scrooge turned to look at his partner, thinking that Jacob wanted to call his attention to an interesting moment, or murmur a relevant fact in his ear. Instead, Scrooge was greeted with a rather mischievous grin and Jacob moving his hand up, closer to Scrooge’s crotch. He thumbed at the inside of Scrooge’s thigh, making small persistent circles.

Ah, it seemed like Jacob was in the mood to make his own entertainment this evening, then. True, this play wasn’t the most exciting that they’d seen, but Scrooge didn’t think it was too bad. Then again, he certainly wasn’t about to turn down Jacob’s affections in the comforting secrecy of Jacob’s private box, with the benefit of being sat in plush chairs besides. Yes, a little…audience participation could be fun.

Scrooge retrained his eyes on the stage, and spread his legs a little wider. Let Jacob make a game of getting his attention, then. Let them see which form of entertainment retains his attention. They both knew that Scrooge could be quite a harsh critic, after all.

As Scrooge anticipated, Jacob’s touch became more insistent, stroking his inner thigh several times before pinching him lightly. Scrooge barely managed to swallow a yelp–perhaps he did not, in fact, manage to swallow it but there was no need to admit that to himself. Unable to stop himself, he looked again at Jacob, startled by the roughness. Certainly a dirty trick if the game was simply to distract him. Scrooge let out his displeasure in a hiss before he noticed that Jacob was touching himself as well.

So Scrooge had been wrong (a rare occurrence, he had to admit). The game wasn’t about distracting Scrooge, but rather giving Jacob attention. That was fair enough, Scrooge supposed. He chanced a look around, confirming to his satisfaction that no one was looking at the two of them–despite the fact that it would have been near impossible for anyone to really see what was going on. And regardless of what his familiar flood of paranoia told him, the footlights were still the only illumination in the house. Certainly, he could indulge Jacob in this way, a little public thrill for the both of them with little actual risk involved.

Scrooge watched for a moment as Jacob lightly stroked his bulge before squeezing Jacob’s knee in the affirmative. Jacob then removed his hands and let Scrooge begin to tease him in turn, rubbing his thumb softly over the front of Jacob’s trousers. Jacob made a few pleased noises, encouraging Scrooge to continue. It was such a delight to see Jacob’s cock begin to fill out his trousers, slowly but insistently, never one to get excited too quickly. Close to him as he was, Scrooge could see his partner’s eyelids flutter, hear the softest of moans and that was enough of a cue to unfasten Jacob’s trousers. Sure enough, Jacob folded down the waistband of his drawers and let his cock flop out: wonderfully thick and semi-hard, balls heavy with arousal.

Gorgeous.

Scrooge loosely wrapped a hahnd around Jacob’s cock and began to work him up to full mast, gradually getting a little faster, a little rougher, with the sound of the actors’ dialogue and audience’s reactions providing necessary cover for the noises Jacob was making. It was quite a thrill, he had to admit. Getting up to such antics in a posh setting. He was sure some of the patrons would be clutching their pearls if they had any idea what was going on behind the ornately decorated wall of their theater box. All the excitement of the forbidden with little risk of actually getting caught. Low-risk, high-reward, which was exactly the level of risk-taking that Scrooge preferred.

He could feel his partner getting closer to climax, and he began to thumb at Jacob’s balls in hope to bring him to a very lovely finish. Suddenly, he felt Jacob’s nails dig into the flesh of his hand forcing a stop.

He looked at Jacob with concern but was met with a throaty croak.

“Wanna cum…in your mouth.”

Scrooge failed to disguise his reaction, let his nose scrunch and his mouth purse with distaste. The floor was no doubt filthy, even in a better-maintained area of the theater and he shuddered to think just what people had gotten up to, hidden by the dark.

Jacob must have sensed his hesitation, because the next word Scrooge heard was “please?” and damned if he could resist. Truth be told, it was never much of a question. Scrooge loved to indulge Jacob in any way that he could and they both knew it. However, Jacob would be paying for Scrooge’s pants to be laundered, Scrooge would insist on it.

Feeling only a little foolish, Scrooge got to his knees. He was beyond grateful that the dark suitably camouflaged any potential foulness on the floor, though he did have a brief encounter with something ambiguously sticky.

The soles of his shoes hit the wall of the box as he got himself into position. If he were a taller man, he was certain this arrangement would be impossible. The floor was hard against his knees, and he hit his forehead on the front of Jacob’s seat as he tried to bring himself up to the

right level. He swore faintly, half a mind to abandon the whole thing but at this point it would be cruel to leave Jacob hanging.

Finally, he managed to find a sustainable position and rubbed his thumb over Jacob’s velvety cockhead, prompting a little trickle of precum.

“Knew you wouldn’t get soft for me so quickly,” he murmured, a fond note in his voice. Before Jacob could answer, he plunged Jacob’s cock into his mouth. It was easier to do it quickly, sometimes. It worked to suppress his natural gag reflex by not giving him too much time to think. The last thing he needed was to make himself, well, he wasn’t to think about that now. He puckered his mouth to form a perfect ‘o’ around Jacob’s gorgeous cock. He pulled back slightly, allowing Jacob to enjoy the pressure before he drew his tongue up to lick the underside in long, decadent strokes.

Jacob was a treat, after all, and Scrooge wanted to savor him. He pulled back even further and began to lap at the tip, practically devouring his partner’s cock with the enthusiasm he usually reserved for an ice lolly in the middle of summer. He was sure to add in a few appreciative moans, which seemed to be doing a lot for Jacob based on the way his hands were currently tangled in Scrooge’s hair.

Scrooge enjoyed doing it, of course, but he also knew that Jacob appreciated him putting on a bit off a show.

Scrooge felt Jacob’s nails dig into his scalp, his fingers pressing firmly on the back of Scrooge’s head urging him forward.

Jacob wanted Scrooge to take him down again, no surprise given the way that his cock was dribbling. Scrooge had got quite acquainted with Jacob’s nonverbal indicators since they’d got together, not least of all because his first messy attempt at fellatio had ended with a messy load in Scrooge’s eyes.

He opened his mouth wide and took Jacob down again, that wonderfully thick cock filling his mouth perfectly. He took Jacob down further than he had before, near to the back of his throat with those lovely balls fat and heavy on his tongue. The noises he was making now were far from flattering as his mouth was full of his partner, but Jacob was too far gone to care.

Jacob’s grip tightened on his hair and Scrooge felt Jacob’s cum shoot down his throat, hot and thick and salty. Before Scrooge could catch his breath, another load joined it, short but full. Scrooge had been fascinated at times just how much Jacob could blow, recalling playful games where Jacob teased that he could feel Scrooge’s stomach round out with how much he’d shot into him.

Truly, Scrooge wondered if they would approach that point as Jacob reached ecstasy, filling Scrooge’s throat and mouth with him. And of course Scrooge swallowed dutifully–gleefully, even. Spitting was far too foul for Scrooge to consider for one and if he was a bit greedy for his boyfriend’s cock, well, what of it? This was bliss for both of them.

“Ben…” Jacob breathed as his orgasm concluded, and Scrooge felt the tip of his cock starting to soften in his mouth. The affection in his half-lidded eyes and the dreamy, contented smile on his face made Scrooge’s heart swell. Hard, disgusting floor long forgotten, he was happy to let Jacob go soft in his mouth in order to enjoy the look on his face just a little longer.

Unbeknownst to both of them, the play had concluded and the audience erupted into polite applause.

“Honestly Ebenezer, how much work do you expect to get done in the dark? You haven’t even lit a fire yet…”

“I was…awake,” Scrooge murmured to the back of his partner’s head as Jacob put his coat away. “Trying to force myself back to sleep seemed like a foolish endeavor and I was in no mood for it anyway.” He didn’t intend for those words to sound so ominous, clipped and tense. Yet they hung in the air, pulling Jacob’s attention back around to him.

“Ben…”

He couldn’t bear the pity in Jacob’s eyes, which presently threatened to rival the saddest of puppies.

“I’ll be fine,” Scrooge looked away, unable to hold his partner’s gaze, “I just needed a distraction.”

Jacob placed his hand lightly atop his partner’s, rubbing his thumb gently over the thin skin. A gesture that Scrooge found soothing in its simplicity. “I’m happy to be one, if that’s what you want. Let me just take a moment to light the fire,” he pulled his hand away, and the temporary comfort with it. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit in here. Or one of yours.”

Scrooge laughed, despite himself. In his semi-disassociated state, he hadn’t truly registered the cold. However, some of the snow that had fallen on him over the course of his walk had since melted into his clothing, leaving him uncomfortably damp. Jacob wasn’t lying about the chill, and it was drafty in here besides. He shuddered to think that the man who sold them the building had taken advantage of them–neither of them was well-informed enough to predict how it would hold up to increasingly bitter winters when they’d purchased it a few summers ago, nor what needed upkeep as it had become their primary office. Their business certainly wasn’t doing poorly, but everything still felt so…precarious. A glass poised to shatter in one’s hand, an unseen hole placed in just the right spot to stumble into, sending him pitching face-forward into failure–the feeling of a weight, ever-present on his chest, making it impossible to exhale.

Such preoccupations had invaded his sleep, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before they disturbed his entire routine–heaven forbid it left him unable to work…And what was worse, he was wholly unable to explain it, a crushing fear of…what? Everything and nothing at all. It sounded foolish, it was foolish. Yet he couldn’t shake it. Couldn’t banish the fear to the back of his mind with all his other unwelcome thoughts. It was fortunate that he and Jacob weren’t sharing a bed presently, or he’d be waking the other man up so frequently that his attempts at comfort wouldn’t be half so charitable.

Yes, Jacob, Scrooge reminded himself, admiring the curve of his partner’s ass as he was bent over the fire. Jacob was here and he was no longer alone with his thoughts and his fears, left to toss and turn in the dark. Winter couldn’t last forever after all–they’ll figure out how to fix the draft and he can weather the cold.

In the meantime, Jacob had straightened up, finished with the coals. “It’ll take awhile for the fire to really get going,” he was saying, “but we can always keep each other warm while we wait.” He winked playfully, and Scrooge felt his stomach flutter in a way that he’d have thought he’d be immune to by now. Jacob’s charms were stubbornly persistent, no matter how much time they spent together.

The suggestion settled on Scrooge’s mind, soft and light as the snow on the windowsill.

“You know Jacob,” Scrooge mused, toying with his still-dry pen, “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Only if you want to,” Jacob hastened to add. “I know you’re not feeling…yourself.”

“I think perhaps…perhaps I would feel more myself if I had something–someone bringing me back down to earth. If you were to, for lack of a better phrase, use me as you wish, I think it would be quite relaxing–ideally for both of us.”

His partner appeared to consider his options.

“Not how I imagined this morning going, but I’m certainly not about to complain,” Jacob replied. “Would you like me to undress you, or would you prefer to do that?”

“I’ll unfasten my pants,” Scrooge offered, “It’s far too cold in here to be arse-naked. And I shan’t want to be plowed into my desk–I think that would make me feel-(panicked)- not myself.”

Jacob nodded.

“What would be comfortable for you, then?”

“Perhaps closer to the window? I won’t feel trapped if I can see out.”

Despite Jacob’s earlier words, there was no more danger of the sun coming up than there was when he’d come in. Window or not, the darkness continued to offer them anonymity,

“Who’d have thought you were such an exhibitionist?” Jacob teased as he retrieved his oil from its discrete storage. “You want all of London to see your o-face?”

“They won’t be seeing anything if we’re quick about it,” Scrooge shot back, regretting the snappiness in his tone immediately.

“Easy,” Jacob taunted, “you really are desperate to get my cock in you.” Jacob’s tone was sliding into the more cajoling tone that Scrooge knew well, the voice he used when playing the dominant role. “But you’re going to be good for me, aren’t you? I know you can.”

Scrooge, unbidden, let a faint mew escape from his throat. He knew what he’d gotten himself into, after all, but Jacob was far better at this than he had any right to be. The man didn’t even have to touch him to get him whining and pleading for him.

“That’s right,” Jacob said, patting his back lightly. “How about you get yourself ready for me?”

Scrooge nodded his agreement and began to unfasten his pants, bracing himself against the wall in order to do so. He could feel Jacob’s gaze on him and warmth began to flood his cheeks, hoping that Jacob was enjoying what he saw.

“That’s a good boy,” Jacob rocked his hips against Scrooge’s ass, his still-clothed bulge rubbing against the bare cleft.

“A little eager, Jacob?” Scrooge asked, though he was enjoying the odd sensation.

“Always,” Jacob replied, taking the opportunity to tease at Scrooge’s taint. The feeling of a bare finger against such sensitive skin caused Scrooge to hiss and arch his back, pushing his arse again into Jacob’s crotch.

“You’re like a horny cat,” his partner teased, “at least, you make a racket like one.”

“And I suppose that makes you the gleefully humping dog,” Scrooge groaned through his teeth, rubbing his arse up and down against Jacob’s bulge.

“Always, dear,” Jacob cooed, gently moving Scrooge’s hair in order to press a few soft kisses to the back of his neck.

“You don’t have to kiss me,” Scrooge said, trying to ignore the way Jacob’s lips alone caused him to come over in goosebumps.

“Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to. And you’re enjoying it, aren’t you?”

Scrooge nodded, feeling properly chastened.

“Good.” Jacob nuzzled softly into his neck. “You smell nice, by the way.”

“Thank you.” This back and forth felt…acutely absurd but so, Scrooge supposed, was his request. And he always did enjoy their patter, his and Jacob’s. They’d always had sort of an easy way with each other–much easier than Scrooge found interacting with most people to be. Comfortable, even. “That feels…nice.”

“I’d hope so,” Jacob planted a few more kisses between his shoulder blades, a lovely sensation even through the thin fabric of his shirt. “Are you ready for me?” he asked with a cheeky pinch to Scrooge’s arse.

Scrooge let out a rather undignified squeak.

“From a cat to a mouse,” Jacob teased, taking the nod that followed as permission. The warmth of his hands left Scrooge’s body for a moment–a minute disappointment–and Scroboge could only assume he was slicking up his fingers.

Sure enough, he felt Jacob’s dampened finger start to probe between his arsecheeks.

“I hardly need to do too much, but I should be a gentleman and open you up, don’t you think?” Jacob purred.

“Please,” Scrooge found his voice starting to crack, the slickness and the pressure sending a rush of blood to his cock.

“Don’t worry, I won’t leave you high and dry.”

Gently, almost carefully, Jacob began to scissor his fingers in and out, leaving Scrooge drawing shaking breaths as the digits stretched his arsehole.

“How’s that feel?” Jacob asked,careful to keep his pace slow, the pressure gentle. Scrooge eked out a strained ‘yes’ as he pressed his palm to the wall, and the other to the window sill. “You don’t even have my cock in you yet and you’re already coming undone...I’d be lying if I tried to pretend I didn’t love it.”

Jacob’s fingers filled him so well, dexterous enough to reach Scrooge’s more sensitive depths and Scrooge could feel his balls starting to get heavy, his cock dripping with the flood of endorphins. He almost wanted to touch himself–but no! That would disrupt the feeling of giving himself over, letting himself get lost in the somatic sensations. “Harder,” he begged, desperate for the pleasure to come to head.

“Who’s in charge here?” Jacob asked, an attempt at admonishment that was playful at best. “Fortunately, I’m in a giving mood.” True to his word, he went in harder, increasing his force gradually enough not to cause his partner any undue pain.

“Thank you sir,” Scrooge managed, fingernails digging into the windowsill so hard that he could feel paint coming up under them.

“Hmmm, I think you’re nice and ready for my cock now, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir, fuck me.”

“What’s the magic word?” The cajoling tone in his voice was near enough to make Scrooge lose it, but he hadn’t come this far to…not come.

“Fuck me please…”

“That’s a good boy,” Jacob withdrew his fingers (Scrooge let out what he hoped was a suitably appealing whine) and started to ease his cock in, giving Scrooge time to raise any objections he might have.

Scrooge tensed at the initial penetration, as he always did. No matter how much he wanted it, there was always the initial surge of fear associated with penetration; the flash of dread. But this was Jacob, he reminded himself, and this was fine and he trusted Jacob to take care of him. As such, he relaxed.

“Go on,” he urged, clearly as he could.

Jacob rocked his hips, thrusting into Scrooge’s arse. Slow at first, building up to a very pleasant rhythm. Scrooge pushed his arse back against Jacob’s cock, letting him know that he could go further. Jacob thrust into him deeper, throwing his weight behind it and letting his belly rest in the curve of Scrooge’s back, a warm and lovely sensation that left Scrooge achingly hard. The pleasant squish was such a wonderful addition to the stimulation, along with the feeling of their bodies being as close together as they literally could be, that it was enough to tip Scrooge over the edge into wordless fucktoy; limp and lost in pleasure.

A wave of fuzzy serenity flowed through him as Jacob rode him harder and harder until his own climax took him by surprise. Jacob hit Scrooge’s prostate and with a shout, Scrooge threw out a hand in front of him. Flat against the windowpane, it must have stood in relief against the early morning frost and for a titillating, horrifying minute, he fancied a passerby could see it…But those thoughts faded away as his orgasm ebbed, nerve-endings alight and muscles twitching as Jacob came inside him.

His legs were jelly and he was somehow too hot and too cold; his increased body temperature contrasting sharply with the chill in the air. Again he put his hands on the windowsill to brace himself, uncomfortably aware of the fact that his back and collar were now damp with sweat. Perhaps he ought to start keeping some extra sets of clothes at the office for just such occasions. After a few moments, he found his words again.

“Thank you, Jacob,” he nodded, “I truly needed that.”

“No trouble at all,” Jacob responded as he, from what Scrooge could hear, started to do up his trousers. “You know it’s always a pleasure.” He patted Scrooge’s ass in the same fond way that Scrooge recalled being visited upon winning ponies at the track. “You should probably get yourself cleaned up.”

“Why did you let me sleep in?” He asked finally, the question coming out more good-natured than irritable. “Risked me missing this delightful sight.”

Jacob really did look gorgeous, his clothes neatly pressed and well-coordinated, his face freshly shaven. He looked, presumably, about the same as he did every morning, and there was nothing terribly special about this one, save for the fact that Scrooge was near overwhelmed by it, almost irrationally so. His partner in his kitchen, looking so good and smelling like coffee and home.

Jacob blushed faintly, not having heard Scrooge approach.

“You looked too peaceful to wake, can’t blame me for thinking you needed your rest.”

Scrooge padded softly across the floor, nearly flinching from the chill of it. Yes, perhaps the warmth was what had kept him in bed, some useless vestigial urge to hibernate.

“Well, I can blame you,” he teased, “but I won’t hold it against you. That is, as long as you’ve made me coffee as well.”

Sure enough, Jacob indicated another steaming mug on the counter.

“Wasn’t sure how long you’d be, but I figured it could use a little time to cool off anyway.”

“Whatever would I do without you?” Scrooge breathed, suddenly feeling rather tender from the domesticity of it all.

“You’d probably have to take care of that yourself, for starters,” Jacob grinned, indicating Scrooge’s morning wood. “You certainly can’t blame me for that–I’m not being any more alluring now than I normally am.”

“I’d say that’s debatable. But we really shouldn’t, should we?” Scrooge asked with desire in his eyes, lightly guiding Jacob’s hand to the telltale bulge.

“Terribly irresponsible of us. We’re going to be so very late,” Jacob played along, rubbing lightly at the front of Scrooge’s pajama bottoms.

Scrooge cupped Jacob’s arse with eager hands and pulled him close, bucking his hips against Jacob’s groin.

“However will we manage?” Scrooge asked, pressing a few desperate kisses to Jacob’s jaw.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you this morning,” Jacob laughed as he pulled Scrooge into a deeper kiss, “but I like it.”

“Just a chilly morning,” Scrooge breathed, “found myself in need of some warming up.”

“Let me move the coffee out of the way, or we’ll both be far warmer than we want to be.”

With the cups safely out of range, Jacob positioned himself on the edge of the counter, at a perfect height to continue with some rough kisses, and to fondle Scrooge’s ass, besides.

Scrooge sighed happily as Jacob continued to paw at him, soft lips raising goosebumps on his skin. God, the fact that his partner could get him so hot and bothered with all of his clothes was nearly unbearable–it’d be a miserable revelation if he didn’t love every second of it. It was unfair, quite frankly.

“Do you really want me to make a mess of myself this early in the morning?” Scrooge purred, “and your clothes will end up all wrinkled besides.”

“You haven’t even showered yet, I’d have to get myself ready all over again. Though there is something novel about seeing you make a mess of yourself in general, knowing how fussy you can be about it.”

“You get me into all sorts of ways I don’t normally like being,” Scrooge replied, nuzzling into Jacob’s hair. “You manage to make them alright for me though. Usually.”

“Unless you want us to both play hooky, I suggest you go wank yourself off in the shower,” Jacob proclaimed with a decisive asspat. This prompted a much brattier (far more embarrassing) whine from Scrooge than he thought himself capable of, but he knew Jacob was right and he plodded off with an almost-painful hard-on.