charles-lloyd-devon:

Who is he?

Post-Apocalyptic images of Japan Source

rhamphotheca:

Beautiful photos of abandoned places.

day 2

charles-lloyd-devon:

william-ashford:

"Well… I don’t honestly know how I could describe the taste to you. It’s, um… soft, warm, a bit heavy in your stomach. Especially with the cheese. You don’t need to eat a whole lot of it to get full quickly. But the taste… With this you’ll taste mostly the cheese, I guess. It’ll be creamy and a little salty, but not as strong as the cheese on the pizza."

He kept a close eye on the boy, watching and trying to read his face as he stared at the photos on the phone, as he listened to every word out of the Sergeant’s mouth with undisguised interest.

"And cheese is great for all sorts of things, really, melted or not. It’s good for snacking, just eating by itself. Or with crackers or pretzels or meats, like pepperoni…"

He frowned, realizing Devon likely had no idea what these things were either. he certainly had a job cut out for him, alright.

"I suppose I should start making a list of things you should try. Cheese sounds like a good starting point, don’t you think?"

He smiled again, each time the expression coming easily and simply, hoping it would continue to be reassuring and friendly.

However… he had a job to do, after all. And sitting here chatting wasn’t quite doing it. 

Not the way he’d been instructed, anyway. As far as he was concerned, as long as Devon was safe and secure - he was doing his job perfectly fine.

"But… listen… I heard that there was some trouble earlier today with the other guard. I want to make sure your day gets better from here, alright? But I’m going to be upfront with you - I’m not gonna lie, I’m not gonna try to manipulate you like they do. I was instructed to try to get you back into the Lab and see if you can manage for a few more hours.”

He paused, ready for a temper - but steeled himself and continued after a moment anyway. He hoped his honesty would earn him points, at least, and preferably not ruin the happiness he’d seemed - so far - to instill in the boy just by being around.

"However, I’m leaving that up to you, Sir. I’m not them. I will not force you into anything.”

“Soft. Oh…”

Soft and warm and heavy.

With open mouth and open eyes, the boy sat over the tiny screen. He didn’t touch the phone – not only were his fingers still feeling greasy from the cold fries, studies had also shown that those surfaces were full of bacteria and most people didn’t care about disinfecting them – but he stared at the picture in obvious fascination and awe.

From a safe distance.

He himself didn’t own a phone.

There was simply no need or point in having one.

The genius boy wasn’t one for long talks and simple conversation.

But right now, staring at the pictures of rich and heavy food, salty and delicious without any doubt, listening to stories of tastes he couldn’t imagine like other boys would listen to stories of knights and kings and dragons… it occurred to him that maybe, from now on, it would be convenient to own one.

“You… have a phone. Will you give me your number?”

Again, he blushed hard, changing the subject quickly as if nothing had happened.

“A list… yes. That sounds… reasonable. Very logical. Cheese should be on it. And… the other… things… you were mentioning. What… were they? Are they… good?”

The mentioning of the guard and the previous events let his heart freeze again. And with his heart, his smile as well. The rush of anger didn’t come, though.

He was too confused and surprised by Ashford’s… honesty.

None of them had bothered before.

None of them had bothered to ask.

He didn’t care about work right now. He’d worked every day. Every week. For years now.

It hadn’t bothered him. It had been his life and passion.

But now, there were more interesting things to discover, more interesting things to do.

For a moment, the boy was lost.

Work was all he was, so far, wasn’t he?

And if Ashford didn’t succeed in making him work, they might fire him, to use the Sergeant’s metaphor from earlier. It clearly would not be helpful to refuse to work, in this case.

Even if he didn’t want to.

“Oh. There… was no trouble. He… was rude.”

His voice sounded listless and low, but he nodded anyway, showing clearly no desire to leave this chair and this table, this little bubble of happiness and excitement.

“Yes. I… think… that… is what I… should do. You will be able to tell them that you got me to work. This will be good for your report.”

He had no doubts whatsoever, that his work would be fruitless.

And short.

If there was a night ahead of him with the bodyguard by his side… work would only be a nuisance.

More questions this time, questions that were quickly overshadowed before he’d had the chance to answer them.

Clearly, Devon was not at all interested in going back to work, and quite frankly, William didn’t blame him one bit.

"Well, if he was rude, that’s trouble enough for me. What did he say to you? They… didn’t exactly tell me."

He frowns, eyeing Devon, hoping to get rid of that sudden listlessness in his voice.

"You know… I could make a deal with you."

He had a feeling it might work - maybe - since it would cater to Devon’s curiosity and his clear loathing to go back to work right away. Because at the moment, it certainly seemed like the only way he’d be willing to was to keep William from being fired.

Admirable. Not entirely altruistic, but it was still good of him to think of William’s job security as well.

He did have a feeling it was less about his own security, though, and more about Devon’s interests. Which he could certainly deal with. The boy deserved it, anyway, after all the shit he’d clearly had to put up with from everyone else.

"How about… We stay here for a while longer, first. We can keep talking and you can still enjoy yourself for a bit, yeah? Then a few hours of work and… I won’t say anything if we happen to leave the Labs early, too. Does that sound reasonable to you?"

A message from Anonymous


They're... Um, stockings. And garters. To go with the uh... Last thing I gave you. The... Underwear.

charles-lloyd-devon:

william-ashford:

charles-lloyd-devon:

Stockings? But it is… not… Christmas…

Oh.

Ooh.

You… want me to wear them?

How do I… put them on, though?

*it takes him ages to come down, to ground himself again, but it doesn’t matter - to answer Devon’s question didn’t require thought, and he didn’t even have to ask himself what he’d just said despite the fact that he didn’t remember;

he knew how he felt right now and he knew it could only have been one thing*

'Course you are. You always have been. 

Love you so fuckin’ much.

*slowly, finally, as his knees start to weaken with the effort of holding both of them up, he moves, carrying Devon the last bit of distance from the wall of the entranceway into the bedroom, lying down in almost a fall, pulling Devon’s stockinged leg up over him and kissing him hard*

*he can’t hold his breath for much longer, gasping and whimpering once again as William moves him - moves them - and handles him so easily

there’s a certain relief in being handled and moved like a puppet, a relief he usually can’t accept and allow, but right now it’s perfect and thrilling - not knowing what William will do next, the surprise and excitement when he’s moved  - and he even squeaks again as they fall onto the bed, light and happy and weightless

his leg is trapped beneath their bodies, but he doesn’t care, can still feel his lover inside and it’s all he needs right now, despite the heavy throb beneath the dress that only increases with the kiss

it’s so easy to respond, both physically and verbally, so easy to let go with his head light from chocolate wine*

I love you.

*he can hardly breathe with how good this all feels, the kiss, the words that make him feel like he’s floating, his cock still inside, still feeling every pulse and twitch and clench of muscle and he’s so, so completely lost in this*

Love you so, so much. 

*finally he rolls - a part of him realizing he’s lying on Devon’s leg, knowing it must be uncomfortable - until he has Devon pinned under him, still pulsing around him, his cock still hard and throbbing even after a release so intense and sudden; and suddenly all he can do is touch, feel, worship; his fingertips traveling everywhere, already reaching to take off the dress*

You’re so beautiful, baby.

A message from Anonymous


They're... Um, stockings. And garters. To go with the uh... Last thing I gave you. The... Underwear.

charles-lloyd-devon:

william-ashford:

charles-lloyd-devon:

Stockings? But it is… not… Christmas…

Oh.

Ooh.

You… want me to wear them?

How do I… put them on, though?

*it doesn’t take long after that, with Devon’s moans so close in his ear, every yes an affirmation, permission, adoration - it’s everything he wants and more, and his body can’t take it anymore, not when he’s been pushed so damn far;

he comes hard, his breath accentuated with short gasps and his thrusts slamming Devon’s body harder into the wall, but he’s still here, he’s still managing, somehow, to hold both of them up despite the overwhelming need to just dissolve suddenly, to melt into heat and ecstasy*

God… fuck… 

*he’s not even aware he’s speaking now, his eyes still closed, his forehead beaded with sweat but he can’t feel it, all he can feel is Devon all around him*

You’re so fuckin’ perfect.

*it hurts, but it’s a good pain, it’s real and grounding and most important: it’s for William

his back hurts from being slammed against the wall, his hips from being positioned uncomfortably, his ass from the hard thrusts and the little preparation, his throat from crying out and moaning and his legs and feet from the effort and walking on heels - none of this matters

the adrenaline makes it easy to bear

the adrenaline and the beautiful cries and moans, the perfection of his movements and the strength behind them and then, so quickly and suddenly… the twitching and jerking and pumping inside Devon’s body, making him moan and shiver in his efforts of holding back still

he’s not done yet

he’s not done sensing and watching and listening as he feels every shiver and every twitch, trying to hold as still as he can to just… feel*

Oh… am… I?

*it takes him ages to come down, to ground himself again, but it doesn’t matter - to answer Devon’s question didn’t require thought, and he didn’t even have to ask himself what he’d just said despite the fact that he didn’t remember;

he knew how he felt right now and he knew it could only have been one thing*

'Course you are. You always have been. 

Love you so fuckin’ much.

*slowly, finally, as his knees start to weaken with the effort of holding both of them up, he moves, carrying Devon the last bit of distance from the wall of the entranceway into the bedroom, lying down in almost a fall, pulling Devon’s stockinged leg up over him and kissing him hard*

A message from Anonymous


They're... Um, stockings. And garters. To go with the uh... Last thing I gave you. The... Underwear.

charles-lloyd-devon:

william-ashford:

charles-lloyd-devon:

Stockings? But it is… not… Christmas…

Oh.

Ooh.

You… want me to wear them?

How do I… put them on, though?

*it just barely registers, what Devon’s saying now; he’s so lost and so close to the edge already, so ready to let himself go;

but when it clicks he laughs, breathless and low, sucking kisses into every inch of skin he can reach with his lips and tongue*

I knew you’d manage that tonight. Told you to make me. 

*grins, biting a little, his voice a bit of a growl*

Love it when you make me.

Yes…

*the word dissolves into moans and whimpers, little cries of pleasure until he’s just as loud as William again, shivering and groaning with each sucking and each little bite, each hard thrust and tight grip;

he’s so close already, so close to the edge; he’s had his release already, but with the hard and continued teasing, with the break he’d gotten over risotto and the drive, he’s ready again

but he holds back, high-pitched whimpers giving away his effort and desperation

he holds back to see and feel, to sense William’s release from within, to not miss any second, any detail of it

not when William is like this, when it’s so rare to witness him being so happy, so lost and unrestrained and… greedy*

*it doesn’t take long after that, with Devon’s moans so close in his ear, every yes an affirmation, permission, adoration - it’s everything he wants and more, and his body can’t take it anymore, not when he’s been pushed so damn far;

he comes hard, his breath accentuated with short gasps and his thrusts slamming Devon’s body harder into the wall, but he’s still here, he’s still managing, somehow, to hold both of them up despite the overwhelming need to just dissolve suddenly, to melt into heat and ecstasy*

God… fuck… 

*he’s not even aware he’s speaking now, his eyes still closed, his forehead beaded with sweat but he can’t feel it, all he can feel is Devon all around him*

You’re so fuckin’ perfect.