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[ Like before, Carver allows it. Lets Jesse trail his fingers along his edges, trace out the shape of what he finds. Skin and scars and for a moment it's almost too close. There's supposed to be distance. Anyone who gets close is a threat and if you let them, you deserve what's done to you.

It's always Pope's voice he hears. Ringing true.

Carver twitches a little, catching Jesse's wrist. But he doesn't jerk away, or shove Jesse back. Just holds it, watching Jesse intently, and then reaches for his belt. Letting it click as he undoes it. ]

[ Oops. Too far? Jesse stills when Carver catches his wrist, curling his fingers in and away from Carver's skin. He doesn't pull back, though. It's only when Carver lets go of him to undo his belt that he withdraws his hand, settling it almost subconsciously on his own neglected cock. ]

Yeah.

[ Again, he says it softly, eyes traveling down to Carver's belt and then back up to meet his eyes as he gives himself a slow stroke. ]

All the way off.

I wanna see how hard you are.

[ Carver eyes Jesse, waiting for the trick. Suspicion is second nature, the easiest state of being. You have to be on guard, always, always. And it's already been proven he can't trust anyone in this place. Dixon is here. That only ends one way. But it's hard to take his eyes off Jesse then, the way he touches himself slow, and Carver can't quite say why. He knows better. He's not some dumb fucking teenager getting off for the first time. And yet -

And yet.

Carver doesn't say a word. He just stands up, deliberately, and pulls the zipper down. His boots are laced too tight to step out of easily but there's a part of him that wants to just strip down. Pull Jesse close and touch him fucking everywhere. He lifts his chin, almost a challenge, and pulls his cock out. Gives it a light stroke, just to do it, relieve some of the pressure. He's hard enough. ]

[ Oh yeah. He's hard enough. Jesse's breath actually catches when Carver pulls his dick out of his pants and touches himself. He's right at eye level, Jesse sitting on the bed in front of him, and for a moment all Jesse can do is stare, eyes wide at the sight filling his vision. ]

Like that.

[ The affirmation seems to be working for him. He's not complaining, at least, and he's doing what he's told, so Jesse figures he might as well stick with it. He reaches up to curl his fingers around the loosened waistband of Carver's pants and the boxers underneath, not pulling down just yet, just holding there, as his eyes flick back up to his face. ]

You want me to suck you off?

[ Because, fuck. With Carver standing there with his hand wrapped around himself, thick and hard right in front of Jesse's face, how the hell is he supposed to be able to think about anything else? ]

[ Yeah. That's a hell of a look right there. It's been a long time since anyone's looked at him like that, so obviously wanting, and with nothing undercutting it. No blade in hand, no game to play. He couldn't do this with someone from home, Carver realizes suddenly. There'd be too much there. It wouldn't feel like this.

It never occurred to him that he'd want it to.

He holds there for a moment, watching Jesse. Touching himself almost idly. ]

Yeah.

[ It comes out rough. He does want that, suddenly. ]

[ Jesse just nods. He hasn't had so much as a drop of aphrodisiac, and yet despite that he's flushed and wanting, his breaths coming faster and shallower. Something about the way Carver just stands there, not saying a word but watching Jesse with his whole focus, still casually holding himself in one hand -

It's a good thing he says yes, that's all. Jesse doesn't know what he would have done otherwise. He reaches eagerly for Carver's length, but the hand he wraps around him is gentle. He starts small, closing his lips just around the head of his cock, swirling his tongue around him and getting the taste of him. It's more of a tease than anything, and a chance for Carver to adjust. ]

[ It's been a long time since he's done anything like this. Years - he can't even remember the last. Even before the world ended, Carver didn't slow down with people. He just got drunk, fucked around, bounced after. Didn't want to think about it, couldn't stand to be around other people long enough to know them - or worse, let them know anything about him. And then he stopped doing that, and there was nothing except for those small, desperate moments when he finally got so goddamn lonely he just -

There were moments. And then there weren't. Nothing like this, though. Slow, and careful in a way he isn't used to. The last time -

Last time was with Riley, Carver realizes suddenly, before the world ended. And they were different men. None of them anything like Jesse. Maybe that's for the best. Maybe that's the only reason he can stand this now. And he reaches out, cups a hand to Jesse's cheek, smooths a thumb along the line of his jaw. Fond, almost. It feels good. He exhales slowly, and nods. Okay.

Yeah. They can do this. ]

[ He keeps his eyes open, raised to look at Carver's face, even as he closes his mouth over him. He needs to see his expression, make sure he's okay with this. Not just okay. He wants him to like this.

And he does, it looks like, judging from the way he nods, cupping the side of his face in one hand. Jesse shivers when Carver's thumb brushes over his jaw, and takes a deep breath through his nose. He grips Carver a little more firmly in one hand and opens his throat up, taking him in slow and deep, an inch at a time. All the way until he can't take him any deeper, until the head of Carver's cock is hitting the back of his throat, and then he starts to move, still slow and careful, bobbing his head back and forth. ]

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