Kinktober Day 4: Mirror Sex, Spanking, Dacryphilia

“You’re lucky you cry so nice and pretty, Rhysie,” Jack spoke up in between two loud smacks of his belt, “else I would’ve really let you have it for being such a baby.”

Rhys thought that he was holding up pretty well, considering the fact that Jack had been at it for a good while now. His poor, flogged ass had almost stopped hurting in between strikes, sensation replaced with a sharp tingle, sensation stinging all the way into his spine. He sniffed and held tighter onto the forearms folded beneath his head, the burn of the rug on his elbows and knees only adding to the confusion of feelings inside his gut.

“Eyes up, Rhysie, how many times do I have to tell you,” Jack commanded after another slap, the buckle of the belt clinking against the floor for a moment before fingers wound in Rhys’ hair and tugged it upwards, forcing him to confront the sight he’d been trying to avoid.

Jack had pulled the floor length mirror from the other end of the bedroom to position it right in front of where Rhys had been pinned to the floor. He’d tried to avoid looking at it as Jack whipped his ass, knowing by the heat and wetness in his cheeks he was already crying, but with Jack’s fingers in his hair pulling his head up he had no choice.

He looked like a mess. His cheeks and eyes were bright red and puffy, a sharp contrast to the rest of his pale skin. His lips were pink and bitten and wet from spit that trailed down to the point of his chin. Rhys thought he looked completely debauched, but Jack let out an appreciative purr from somewhere above him.

“Damn. You really are cute like this. A sight like that makes me feel a lil’ more forgiving.” Rhys could feel Jack’s finger rub over the tender spots on his ass, touch a hair kinder than it’d been before. “Maybe you’re finally ready to be screwed like a good boy.”

“Y-Yes, please,” Rhys moans, looking up beyond his crying face in the mirror and where he could see Jack crouched over him. Though the dim light he could see Jack had opened the fly of his pants and let out his cock, the belt tossed off to the side, and Rhys felt like he could cry in relief if he hadn’t already exhausted all the tears in his body.

“Thank you daddy, yes, please, I’ll be good…” Rhys begged, swallowing roughly as he watched Jack finally get on his knees. Even the rough hands on his ass felt good as Jack pulled his hips up to his crotch and rubbed his shaft against the whipped flesh.

Gonna get you crying in pleasure in just a moment, kiddo. Keep your eyes forward, it’s gonna be quite a show,” Jack chuckled as he spread Rhys’ cheeks, taking a moment to enjoy their reflection in the mirror before he pushed in.

Kinktober Day 3: Edgeplay, Knifeplay

Jack slid the flat of the blade along Rhys’ cock, a hairsbreadth away from the young man’s twitching, warm flesh. For once, Jack was a hell of a lot more nervous than Rhys was—his boyfriend looked down between his legs with a lot more lust than fear, his fingers clenched into the sheets with anticipation.

“God, Jack…” Rhys moaned at the press of the cool knife against his sock, a visible shiver running up his spine. He was so into it, and so was Jack, but he hadn’t expected his soft little cupcake to be into having a sharp blade so close to his most sensitive area.

“You…you really like this, don’t you sugar?” Jack mumbled, his breath wafting against the side of Rhys’ shaft. He kept his eyes on the blade, careful not to let it knick his boyfriend’s skin as he leaned in and began to mouth against Rhys’ cock.

“C-Course….I trust you…” The young man gasped at the dual touch, hands sliding up to his pillow to grasp tightly into the fabric. His hips pushed up in need, nearly causing the knife to slice into his skin. Jack pulled it a sliver away at the last second, his breath catching in his lungs.

“Jeez, Rhysie….you really are something, aren’t you?” Jack whispered incredulously against the side of Rhys’ cock, breathing coming a little bit faster as his stomach knotted with both arousal and anxiety. Rhys’ body shook with a laugh that edged a bit into hysteria, his eyes a little wild and a lot encouraging, enough so that Jack began to kiss and lick up and down the side of his boyfriend’s shaft.

“W-What? You get to be a freak every other day of the week—let me have this—“ Rhys moaned as Jack trailed the knife to the base of his cock, tickling the tip over his balls as he pushed his mouth over the head, letting it sink between his lips.

Worrisome as it was to risk potentially neutering Rhys, Jack couldn’t deny he looked damn good willingly pushing to the very limits of safe and sane.

Kinktober Day 3: Temperature Play, Sensory Deprivation

Sometimes, R&D invented something Jack wanted to test out personally first, before it got properly released to the public.

Usually he would take some of the fancier guns out, or occasionally play with grenade mods with an especially fun side-effect, but today he was delving into something a little bit different.

He turned the glowing blue shield over in his hands, feeling the chill of the metal surrounding the cryogenic core. He’d turned down the intensity of the effect already but it was still cold to the touch. Jack half-wondered if he should try to turn it down even further, but he was getting impatient.

The effect was immediate when Jack clipped it onto his lapel. He felt a cool sheen spread out from his core down to the tips of his fingers, like he’d just been dunked in a pool of frigid water. His skin tingled but his core stayed surprisingly warm, preventing any detrimental effects of the new shield.

Huh. Interesting.

Shield now equipped, he turned his attention to his poor PA, twitching and squirming all naked on the desk as he struggled to be patient with his ears and eyes taken away from him. Much as Jack loved seeing the lust in Rhys’ eyes, he looked damn attractive with the golden blindfold laid across his face, and the earmuffs clamped around his head drove it home how much Rhys would rely on the sense of touch alone to get off.

Jack raised his hand up before his own eyes with a smirk, a little flutter of cryogenic energy blossoming from his fingers as he stroked them together. He could see the goosebumps on Rhys’ bare thighs already rising, the activation of the new shield already bringing the temperature of the office down a couple of degrees.

“Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” Jack spoke as a force of habit—it didn’t really matter that Rhys’ ears were covered anyway, considering he just liked to hear himself talk. It took only one long strider to get from his chair to the desk, where Rhys’ legs hung off the edge at the knee. The PA’s cock had stiffened to half-mast while Jack had been busy preparing and activating the shield, still aroused from a few minutes ago, when Jack had disrobed him, tied his arms above his head, and took away his senses.

He started by touching Rhys’ lower thigh, just barely above the knee. The response was immediate—Rhys jolted atop the desk, one leg kicking out and barely brushing against Jack’s calf. His fingers curled into fists in their bonds and his head listed to the side, mouth open.

“A-agh….” Rhys voice trickled out, a strangle between pain and pleasure. Without use of his ears he couldn’t hear himself, couldn’t tailor the sounds he made due to embarrassment, and what came out instead sent anticipatory shivers up Jack’s spine. Oh, the noises he could wring out of his hapless PA.

He ran his hand further up Rhys’ thigh, fingers trailing delicate lines of chill up his quivering flesh. It earned him a slurred moan that grew louder in volume as he edged closer to Rhys’ erect cock, but instead of touching it just yet he drifted lower, to Rhys’ balls.

The PA’s spine twitched in a slight arch as Jack’s fingers lightly cupped his balls, the tips tickling at the tender flesh. They felt velvety smooth and warm to Jack’s chilled hand, though not for long, if Rhys’ shivers and shakes—and stiffening cock—were any indication. The contrast was lovely while it lasted, though.

“Looks like you could use a little warming up,” Jack chuckled as he moved his hand up, letting the chill emanating from his palm touch Rhys’ cock a moment before he properly grasped it. “Too bad I don’t think I’ll be able to help you much with that, though.”

“I know it hurts. I’m sorry.”

i’m not a doctor and fanfic is not a place to learn proper first aid

Rhys has a bad habit of forgetting when and when not to use his cybernetic arm.

A great time is when Jack is on his back, trying to fend off the last of a pack of psycho who thought it fun to try to take a bite out of him. Jack’s already cursing his decision to venture pass the boundaries of Hyperion’s latest outpost, despite being lulled into a false sense of security thanks to the forested terrain. Of course there’d be creeps everywhere on this damn planet, even in areas he thought might be a little more lush and quiet.

This stinking, slobbering asshole just won’t get off of him, and worse yet the jagged, rusty edge of that buzz-axe is trending uncomfortably close to Jack’s throat. He grunts and snarls and tries to push the psycho off of him, but the guy’s bearing down with his full weight and Jack’s gun had been knocked away in the struggle, leaving him defenseless.

Thankfully, Rhys has enough sense to pick it up and aim it properly—unfortunately, in his haste Jack sees, in his periphery, his boyfriend hold its handle in only one hand. The fleshy, easy to damage one.

Jack’s gun is a new, heavy-duty assault rifle with a low magazine but high than average damage. The whole reason they had ventured from the outpost in the first place was because Jack had wanted to test it out on some unsuspecting fauna, see just how much heat it could pack out in the field. Jack remembers trying it out a few times back on Helios’ shooting ranges, and while the thing is powerful it needs careful as hell handling, so the gunman doesn’t end up mangled in the hospital instead of the target. It’s a two-handed kind of weapon, and Rhys is standing there holding it with one like it’s a frikkin’ peashooter.

Before Jack can shout a warning Rhys has fired, and he sees the violent kickback shred his boyfriend’s arm backwards moments before the psycho’s brains explode all over his vision. The buzzaxe sinks harmlessly into the dirt besides Jack’s head as the bloody corpse flops forward, nearly getting the CEO a mouthful of splattered brains and bits of skull. He shoves it off of him quickly before swaying to his feet, able to make out tense noises of pain even with the tinnitus ringing in his ears.

Jack can already tell as he rushes over to his boyfriend’s side that Rhys’ arm has been dislocated by the kickback. It flops limply against the ground like it’s holding on only by the skin of his shoulder. Rhys’ teeth are clenched, face flushed with pain he futilely tries holding back. Jack sinks to his knees beside him, knocking away the gun as he examines his boyfriend’s injury.

Even beneath his clothes the joint looks visibly out of alignment, so bad that Jack grits his teeth in a wince. He carefully places his hand against Rhys’ shoulder but even that slight movement causes cries of pain to finally break free and proper from Rhys’ lips. Tears bead up in the boy’s eyes, the dam now broken as sobs rock through his chest, the trembling not helping the pain in the dislocated arm.

“Easy, easy pumpkin, just stay still okay?” Jack croons, any pride he feels at Rhys blowing a psycho’s whacked-up brains out now dampened slightly by his boyfriend’s pain. There will be plenty of time for adulation later anyway, when Rhys is safe at home, properly fixed up and no longer suffering.

Jack purses his lips as he wracks his brain for a solution, or at least a first step to getting Rhys the help he needs, but its hard with the sobbing cries spilling unbidden from his injured boyfriend. He starts to pet back Rhys’ hair, combing it best as he can back into place.

“Hey kiddo, hey. Shhh. I know it hurts, I’m sorry,” Jack says, and he really does mean it. Even if he really wishes Rhys had remembered to use both hands on the rifle, the guy who was two seconds away from sawing Jack’s head off is dead, and as much as a dislocated arm sucks it could’ve been a lot worse for the both of them.

Though he’s still going to have to deal with it before Rhys can feel any better.

“Jack, please can’t….can’t you fix it…?” His boyfriend moans, voice broken by pain. Jack worries his lip as he places his other hand on Rhys’ injured bicep.

“Yeah, I can…I’ll try, sugar, but it’s gonna hurt a lot before it gets better, okay?” He whispers, dredging up old first aid knowledge he recalls from his younger years, before he became rich enough to pay others to risk life and limb for him. Rhys’ eyes widen, fear momentarily overtaking the look of pain.

“W-what? How…how much more can it possibly hurt?” He whines. Jack forces a reassuring smile and pats the side of Rhys’ cheek, clearing away a tear with a finger.

“I promise you you’re gonna feel a hell of a lot better once I pop this sucker back into place, okay?” Rhys’ fear doesn’t abate much as the reality of Jack’s suggestion sinks in, but after a long moment of panting and swallowing around the tense lump in his throat, Rhys finally nods.

“Just…just do it…get it over with…”

“That’s my boy.” Jack strokes Rhys’ face one last time before bracing the hand against Rhys’ shoulder, with the other still squeezed firmly around his bicep. Jack takes a couple deep inhales, encouraging Rhys to breath with him in order to help calm him down.

“All right…” Jack starts, hands firm. “On the count of three…one…two—“

He doesn’t wait until three, bucking Rhys’ anticipation with a sharp pop as he works the arm back into his socket. Rhys screams as it happens, his spine arching up off the ground as fresh tears spring into his eyes. Jack hates himself for a brief moment thanks to the crushing noise of Rhys’ pain, but with the pass of a few seconds the screams dies down into a whimper. Rhys blinks rapidly and sniffs, the tears slowly drying up as the sharp pain fades into a memory.

“…Better?” Jack tries as he softly pats Rhys’ shoulder, and this time he doesn’t flinch. The relocated arm moves stiffly, but it moves as Rhys weakly twitches his fingers.

“Ah…little bit…” He croaks, but before he can exert himself any more Jack strips his own jacket off and starts tying the sleeves together. Rhys watches through a haze of lingering soreness and confusion until Jack loops the makeshift sling around his neck and carefully slides the injured arm inside.

“That’ll do….at least until we get back to the outpost. Get some proper painkillers into you. ‘Least I can do for my hero.”

“What?” Rhys asks blearily as Jack slides his hands underneath him, still able to hoist his boyfriend into a bridal carry, despite lingering aches and bruises from his fight with the psychos. He cradles Rhys’ weight against his chest, ensuring the arm isn’t jostled too bad as he walks.

“You forget about the little stunt that caused all this, kiddo?” Jack tilts his chin to look at Rhys as he starts moving back towards the outpost, barely visible above the tops of the trees. “Those guys would have had a real handsome head to stick on a pike if it weren’t for you blowing some lights out.”

“Oh…right…” Rhys nods, though he looks like he might conk out from exhaustion any moment. “Well…you’re welcome.”

“You’ve really gotta let me teach you how to properly shoot, though. Two hands next time, okay?”

“M’kay,” Rhys mumbles just as he slips into a light doze, head falling peacefully against Jack’s chest. The CEO snorts, already envisioning Rhys’ first proper training lesson as he ambles off towards the welcoming lights of the outpost.

thethespacecoyote:

thethespacecoyote:

i already got one poisoned!rhys fic in the works but….what if rival CEOs AU?

Someone poisons Rhys’ skincare product or something and throughout the day he feels worse and worse but lies whenever Jack asks if he’s okay. He doesn’t want to show weakness in front of Jack, and maybe they have a big presentation where they’re both on stage. Rhys is trying to hold it together, but he’s feeling hot and shaky under his clothes and the audience and bright lights don’t help. Jack notices Rhys swaying and tries to support him, only to have to grab him as Rhys drops and goes completely limp

Jack ends up picking Rhys up, kicking a paparazzi in the face because wtf, Rhys is suffering and might be dying, there isn’t time for this shit

Jack gets his Hyperion medics to keep Rhys stable before his private Atlas medical team arrive to properly care for him, Jack insists to stay by his side and make sure Rhys is all right.

He sits at Rhys’ side while he’s all hooked up to breathing tubes and IVs, feeling a lot of conflicting emotions at seeing Rhys stripped down from his usual elegant Atlas attire and instead clad in a flimsy hospital robe. Later on when Rhys’ vitals are more stable he deals with delusions and can’t recognize Jack when he wakes up, Jack tries to keep him from panicking. Rhys smiles all lopsided and weak and says Jack is nice and pretty concerned for a stranger, and Jack feels weird about that….Rhys has only been snarky and snide and maybe sometimes flirty before, this whole incident is forcing a different dynamic on them

Jack finally decides to leave when Rhys is stable and no longer suffering delusions and is properly asleep. He sends Rhys flowers and a little get well card later

After he recovers Rhys kind of withdraws from the public and doesn’t make any appearances, he runs Atlas from a secluded mansion in the mountains on some nice planet. Jack figures it out and winds up visiting to check on him because despite himself he’s worried

Rhys is surprised and a bit put off to see Jack but invites him in. Rhys looks better but still pale and weak. Jack notices Rhys’ hands shaking when he offers him coffee even though Rhys’ is trying to hide it. Later on maybe Rhys falls or drops something and freaks out, hating looking weak in front of Jack and failing to recover as quickly as he wants

Jack gets Rhys back on the couch, looking at this huge empty mansion populated just by Rhys and a couple of cleaning roombas, and decides that he’s gonna stay here and keep an eye on him, keep him company

Rhys pulls a face like no wait but well….having someone around wouldn’t be that bad, would it? So Jack holes up in Rhys’ mansion to keep an eye on him. Rhys has been having trouble sleeping and rolls his eyes when Jack suggests he sleep on him, but then it works and Rhys sleeps the best he’s slept in weeks

Jack also notices then Rhys is lighter than he used to be, and when he pulls up his sweater while Rhys is sleeping he sees his sunken belly and ribs showing through his skin and frowns, because Rhys’ fridge and cupboards having plenty of food but Rhys either isn’t or can’t eat it. So Jack orders a bunch of fresh veggies and meat and decides to properly cook for Rhys. Gradually Rhys starts looking better, more vibrant and a little more filled out, less skinny and weak than before.

Meanwhile Rhys is noticing things about Jack he likes….Jack’s not wearing his CEO clothes, just casual shirts and pants, maybe somedays doesnt even wear a shirt, and Rhys sees how nice Jack’s arms and chest are. They’ve always kind of flirted and teased each other, but now that he’s with Jack every day, now that Jack is cooking for him and keeping him company…hes starting to feel different

Kinktober Day 2: Medical Play

Jack had laughed the first time he saw the nurse costume Rhys bought.

The costume didn’t look too bad, all things considered, but the concept was chuckle-worthy. He thought Rhys would make a pretty shitty nurse. Kid barely knew how to take care of himself, much left someone else. Rhys had got kind of annoyed when Jack had told him this, and tossed the costume into the closet, never to be seen again.

At least, that was what Jack thought. Until it was Rhys’ turn to pick something new to try in the bedroom.

And—all right. Rhys might be a crap nurse in reality, but he looked good in that outfit. The open blouse squeezed his chest together, as did the hem of his skirt to his thighs. His legs looked silky in those stockings, and years of wearing heeled boots helped him navigate the black pumps that came with the costume, even on the bedroom carpet. He sauntered over from the bathroom, placing one leg elegantly in front of the other in a way that had Jack’s boner already popping through his boxers. He wiggled with interest, wrists tugging against the leather restraints Rhys had bound to him before going to the bathroom to change.

“How’s my favorite patient?” Rhys spoke, voice struggling between peppy and sultry, but those long legs and sumptuous body made up for any lacking dialogue. “Feeling better, or do I need to give you another shot?”

Jack eyed the syringe as Rhys twirled it between his fingers, the vibrant red liquid splashing around. That’d been Rhys’ idea too, though Jack wasn’t exactly opposed to using aphrodisiacs, especially when it was a part of the whole image.

“I dunno, sweetheart, feeling a little bit more…fatigued than usual. Might need a little help to ‘get better’ if you know what I mean?” Jack lifted his head up of the pillow to smirk at his pretty “nurse.” Rhys nodded with a similar smile, putting one knee up on the bed as he grasped Jack’s wrist in his white-gloved palm and turned it over.

“You do look a little pale….don’t worry, this will put the color back into your cheeks…”

“Yeah? Maybe in some other areas, too.” Jack winked, the tent in his pants not escaping Rhys’ notice, though he tried to keep a straight face.

“Maybe…some patients have certain side effects to the medication….don’t worry, we’ll deal with those as they come,” he purred, uncapping the syringe and pressing the tip to the vein visible in Jack’s elbow. The CEO licked his lips in excitement at the little prick of pain, watching the red liquid slowly drain into his arm.

“You’ve got some wonderful bedside manner, darling,” Jack murmured as heat started to spread up his arm, his mind losing a little coherence as his arousal grew.

“Of course.” Rhys smiled as he tossed the now empty syringe into the garbage besides the bed, before shifting to straddle Jack’s hips, giving the CEO a perfect view down his shirt. “Now just lay back and relax, sir, and I’ll be sure to take care of your every need.”

Kinktober Day 2: Ass Worship, Begging

“Jack, please—“ Rhys moaned, frustrated arousal kept at bay thanks to the fact that Jack wouldn’t put his cock inside him already. He knew how much his boyfriend loved his ass, obsessed over it almost, but wouldn’t it follow that he’d want to fuck it already instead of just settling on groping and staring?

“All in good time, babe. Just gimme a second.” Jack already had his cock out and gripped in his hand but hadn’t bothered moving it in the past couple minutes, content to just slowly stroke it as his other hand rubbed and squeezed Rhys’ ass like he was testing the ripeness of a peach. Every once and awhile the boy’s heart would leap when Jack pulled one cheek to the side to appreciate Rhys’ eager, twitching hole, but he still hadn’t shoved his fucking cock inside!

“Why? Why can’t you just—ugh—!” Rhys tried to push back in some thoughtless attempt to get closer to Jack’s dick but the older man held steady and even gave Rhys a hard, warning pinch to his rear.

“So impatient,” Jack purred over Rhys’ pained and frustrated whimpers, fingers rubbing over the red mark on his tender skin, “I’m not interested in screwing impatient boys, Rhysie, so if you want my cock inside of you now you’re gonna have to really sweet-talk me.”

Rhys pouted, his eyes still welled up with tears from desperation and the harshness of Jack’s pinch, but at this point he’d do anything to get Jack to stop admiring his ass and start wrecking it like he was supposed to.

“Jack…” He tried to force the hurt and impatience from his voice, lowering it to something more seductive and needy. He looked over his shoulder, keeping his eyelashes at half mast and his lips slight parted. “Please….sir…I want you so much…I’m sorry for being so pushy, I just…I need…”

Rhys knew Jack liked “sir” almost as much as he liked “daddy,” the words highlighting Jack’s power, the imbalance between them. He didn’t care to play the part and pluck Jack’s fantasies if it got him what he wanted, though. For a moment Jack raised his brow, as if judging the authenticity of Rhys’ begging, but either he decided to believe it or he’d finally needed to get his exposed cock wet because he shifted on his knees and leaned over Rhys’ body, spreading his asscheek one last time—now with purpose.

“Yes, yes yes please,” Rhys moaned, his fingers clenching happily into the bedsheets as Jack’s cock pushed up against his hole, “thank god.”

“Thank me after it’s over, okay sweetheart?” Jack teased as he slid inside, hips rubbing up against Rhys’ ass and forcing gracious moans from his lips.

thethespacecoyote:

i already got one poisoned!rhys fic in the works but….what if rival CEOs AU?

Someone poisons Rhys’ skincare product or something and throughout the day he feels worse and worse but lies whenever Jack asks if he’s okay. He doesn’t want to show weakness in front of Jack, and maybe they have a big presentation where they’re both on stage. Rhys is trying to hold it together, but he’s feeling hot and shaky under his clothes and the audience and bright lights don’t help. Jack notices Rhys swaying and tries to support him, only to have to grab him as Rhys drops and goes completely limp

Jack ends up picking Rhys up, kicking a paparazzi in the face because wtf, Rhys is suffering and might be dying, there isn’t time for this shit

Jack gets his Hyperion medics to keep Rhys stable before his private Atlas medical team arrive to properly care for him, Jack insists to stay by his side and make sure Rhys is all right.

He sits at Rhys’ side while he’s all hooked up to breathing tubes and IVs, feeling a lot of conflicting emotions at seeing Rhys stripped down from his usual elegant Atlas attire and instead clad in a flimsy hospital robe. Later on when Rhys’ vitals are more stable he deals with delusions and can’t recognize Jack when he wakes up, Jack tries to keep him from panicking. Rhys smiles all lopsided and weak and says Jack is nice and pretty concerned for a stranger, and Jack feels weird about that….Rhys has only been snarky and snide and maybe sometimes flirty before, this whole incident is forcing a different dynamic on them

Jack finally decides to leave when Rhys is stable and no longer suffering delusions and is properly asleep. He sends Rhys flowers and a little get well card later

After he recovers Rhys kind of withdraws from the public and doesn’t make any appearances, he runs Atlas from a secluded mansion in the mountains on some nice planet. Jack figures it out and winds up visiting to check on him because despite himself he’s worried

Rhys is surprised and a bit put off to see Jack but invites him in. Rhys looks better but still pale and weak. Jack notices Rhys’ hands shaking when he offers him coffee even though Rhys’ is trying to hide it. Later on maybe Rhys falls or drops something and freaks out, hating looking weak in front of Jack and failing to recover as quickly as he wants

Jack gets Rhys back on the couch, looking at this huge empty mansion populated just by Rhys and a couple of cleaning roombas, and decides that he’s gonna stay here and keep an eye on him, keep him company

Rhys pulls a face like no wait but well….having someone around wouldn’t be that bad, would it? So Jack holes up in Rhys’ mansion to keep an eye on him. Rhys has been having trouble sleeping and rolls his eyes when Jack suggests he sleep on him, but then it works and Rhys sleeps the best he’s slept in weeks

Jack also notices then Rhys is lighter than he used to be, and when he pulls up his sweater while Rhys is sleeping he sees his sunken belly and ribs showing through his skin and frowns, because Rhys’ fridge and cupboards having plenty of food but Rhys either isn’t or can’t eat it. So Jack orders a bunch of fresh veggies and meat and decides to properly cook for Rhys. Gradually Rhys starts looking better, more vibrant and a little more filled out, less skinny and weak than before.

Meanwhile Rhys is noticing things about Jack he likes….Jack’s not wearing his CEO clothes, just casual shirts and pants, maybe somedays doesnt even wear a shirt, and Rhys sees how nice Jack’s arms and chest are. They’ve always kind of flirted and teased each other, but now that he’s with Jack every day, now that Jack is cooking for him and keeping him company…hes starting to feel different

i already got one poisoned!rhys fic in the works but….what if rival CEOs AU?

Someone poisons Rhys’ skincare product or something and throughout the day he feels worse and worse but lies whenever Jack asks if he’s okay. He doesn’t want to show weakness in front of Jack, and maybe they have a big presentation where they’re both on stage. Rhys is trying to hold it together, but he’s feeling hot and shaky under his clothes and the audience and bright lights don’t help. Jack notices Rhys swaying and tries to support him, only to have to grab him as Rhys drops and goes completely limp

Jack ends up picking Rhys up, kicking a paparazzi in the face because wtf, Rhys is suffering and might be dying, there isn’t time for this shit

Jack gets his Hyperion medics to keep Rhys stable before his private Atlas medical team arrive to properly care for him, Jack insists to stay by his side and make sure Rhys is all right.

He sits at Rhys’ side while he’s all hooked up to breathing tubes and IVs, feeling a lot of conflicting emotions at seeing Rhys stripped down from his usual elegant Atlas attire and instead clad in a flimsy hospital robe. Later on when Rhys’ vitals are more stable he deals with delusions and can’t recognize Jack when he wakes up, Jack tries to keep him from panicking. Rhys smiles all lopsided and weak and says Jack is nice and pretty concerned for a stranger, and Jack feels weird about that….Rhys has only been snarky and snide and maybe sometimes flirty before, this whole incident is forcing a different dynamic on them

Jack finally decides to leave when Rhys is stable and no longer suffering delusions and is properly asleep. He sends Rhys flowers and a little get well card later

Kinktober Day 1: Masks, Face Sitting

Rhys was so drunk.

It’d been a bit of a rough week at work, and he’d been eager to let loose at the party properly. And thanks to the free bar and the masquerade theme—Rhys had chosen a pretty blue mask with plenty of crystals for himself—he wound up fairly uninhibited. Which might explain how he ended up in a random room with another man, clumsily straddling his new partner’s shoulders.

“Ohh,” Rhys moaned as something wet and firm pressed up against his hole, already slicked by lube and saliva. His fingers clenched atop his knees as his partner started to push his tongue inside of Rhys, making little appreciative humming noises that vibrated up his spine. Broad hands massaged Rhys’ bare thighs, holding him down as he worked him open.

Rhys’ hadn’t gotten a proper look at the guy’s face—thanks to both the drunken fuzziness and the fact that the stranger wore a mask, his golden and crested with peacock feathers—but his tongue and hands were skilled, already getting Rhys’ cock dripping at full attention. The young man moaned, lifting one hand off of his knee to wrap around his shaft, fumbling with numb fingers as he tried to jerk himself off.

His partner devoured him, alternating between thrusting between his cheeks and licking over Rhys’ taint until finally he came into his own hand, staining the cybernetic palm with cum as he threw back his head, his mask nearly falling off his face. He panted, body quivering with stimulation and legs unable to push himself off of his partner.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to, as the broad hands that’d been digging into his thighs now seized his hips, picking him up and tossing him on his back against the bed.

Rhys barely had a moment to catch his breath before the masked man loomed over him, rigid cock curving up from the depths of his undone pants, his eyes intense and hungry from within the elegant holes of the mask. He spread Rhys’ legs with ease, the young man loose and sensitive and willing to let his anonymous partner press the head of his cock against his wet, opened hole.

“My turn, pumpkin.”