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livesincerely · 9 months ago

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my body's craving (so feed the hungry)

Sequel to hungry like the wolf. Rated E. Also on Ao3

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The dance floor is a mess of bodies but Davey manages to carve himself a space amongst the masses, letting himself rock and sway with the thumping bass pounding through the speakers.

Tomorrow’s the full moon, so naturally the club is absolutely packed. There’s an almost tangible energy in the air⁠—like a powder keg about to ignite⁠—every shifter, siren, and sea creature in the city amped up to a thousand as the lunar cycle pulls at them.

It’s almost impossible to not bump into anyone: there are drifting, curious hands, knuckles that glance over his bare arms, a few flirty glances, but Davey ignores them all. He’s out here tonight for one reason and one reason only. Anyone stupid enough to overlook the bite mark that peeks out from under the lace of his collar, the way he all but reeks of Eau de Werewolf, deserves what’s coming to them.

He closes his eyes and lets the music flow over him, raising his arms over his head and swiveling his hips to the beat. His shirt rides up slightly, just as he knew it would, exposing a sliver of skin between it and the waist of his leather pants, and this time when he feels a pair of eyes land on him, he knows without looking that these are the eyes he wants.

Davey gives it a moment, then glances over his shoulder. He can just make them out over the crowd: Sean’s nursing his whiskey, Tony’s wrapped up in Sean’s coat, as usual, and Jack’s leaning against the bar, tracking Davey’s every movement with a hunter’s intensity.

When their eyes meet, Jack’s gaze goes sharp, hungry, the predator within staring back at him. Davey winks, blows him a kiss, and keeps on dancing.

He doesn’t see Jack put down his drink and abandon his place at the bar, doesn’t see him approach, but he recognizes his presence when he steps up behind him, knows the arms that wrap around his waist, the heat that curls over his back.

“Hi, Jackie,” Davey says, perfectly innocent, leaning into the embrace. “I thought you didn’t want to dance?”

Jack’s hands slip lower, one digging into his hip, the other splaying wide and possessive over the small of Davey’s back. “Changed my mind.”

“Oh?” Davey murmurs, curling his fingers through Jack’s belt loops to draw him closer even as their hips continue to sway to the beat. “And why’s that, I wonder?”

“One’a life’s great mysteries,” Jack says, leaning in to kiss along Davey’s jaw. “Why would I want an armful of the prettiest guy in the room? The world may never know.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Davey asks, pitching his voice to something soft and sultry, batting his eyes just so.

Jack’s eyes narrow, his grip around Davey’s hips tightening that much more.

“You’re a menace,” he growls, and god, he’s so easy to rile this close to the full moon. Davey has to bite his lip to keep himself from smirking. “Don’t think I don’t know exactly what you’re doin’.”

“So, you don’t think I’m pretty?” Davey pouts.

Instead of answering, Jack tilts his head and brings their lips together in a deep, dominating kiss.

It’s utterly filthy, Jack’s mouth sliding hot and slick against his own. Davey sighs into him, tangling his fingers in Jack’s hair and tugging until he can lick further into Jack’s mouth.

Jack’s chest rumbles with another growl, nipping punishingly at the swell of Davey’s bottom lip, then chasing the sting away with his tongue, and one of his thighs slots between his legs to press against where he’s already half-hard in his pants. He can’t help the needy whine that slips out of him, hips twitching as he chases after the promised friction, as desperate to be devoured as Jack is to devour him.

“I think,” Jack says against Davey’s still-parted lips, his voice rough, “that you’re the most gorgeous creature on the face of this Earth. An’ you’re gonna regret teasin’ me like this when we get home.”

“And I think,” Davey replies, a little breathlessly, looping his arms around Jack’s neck and bringing their foreheads together, “that isn’t as much of a threat as you probably think it is.”

Jack’s lips drags against his skin, there’s a hint of teeth against his collarbone, and when he speaks next his voice is a gravely rasp that cuts through the music and sends a thrum of heat down his spine.

“We’re leaving.”

Davey opens his mouth, something playful and provocative on the tip of his tongue, but then Jack’s fingers curl around his elbow, his grip threatening to bruise, and he swallows down a protest that wasn’t even a real protest at all.

He lets Jack pull him along, the crowd parting easily for an incensed werewolf on the prowl. Jack leads them out the door, past the bouncer, and into the cool of the night, the moon shining down on them like a promise.

They don’t even make it around the corner before Jack hauls him into the shadow of an empty alley.

Davey stumbles. Jack pounces.

He shoves him up against the nearest flat surface, bricks digging into his back as Jack twists his arms and, between one moment and the next, gets Davey’s wrists pinned above his head.

Arousal spikes hot in the pit of Davey’s stomach and he arches up into him, squirming just enough to test the strength of Jack’s hold⁠. Jack snarls in warning, that iron grip tightening even further, and the anticipation of it all is almost too much to bear.

“You with me, sweetheart?” Jack asks, fisting his other hand in Davey’s hair and pulling his head back to expose his throat.

“Oh, god, yes,” Davey gasps.

Jack’s mouth stretches into a lascivious smirk, then he ducks his head, swirling his tongue over the hollow of his throat. He works a trail of kisses over his pulse point and Davey shivers as the edge of Jack’s canines⁠—his fangs, he corrects with a heady thrill, noting the change⁠—graze gently over his Adam’s apple.

Jack’s lips move lower, then there’s the press of teeth at the junction where his neck meets his shoulder as he re-stakes his claim. It stings deliciously, pleasure and pain twisting together to coax a strangled whimper out of him.

“Jesus, Jack,” Davey hisses when Jack finally pulls away. He’s fully hard now, has been since that first snarl in his ear, and his hips stutter forward, needing to feel Jack’s heat against him in a visceral, unspeakable way.

“Don’t act like this ain’t exactly what you wanted,” Jack says, a dangerous edge to his voice. “Like you ain’t gaggin’ for me ta hold you down an’ fuck you senseless.”

“Jack,” Davey exhales, pleading, his pulse thrumming in his ears, aching somewhere deep inside. “Jackie, please⁠—”

Jack hauls him up off the wall by his hair, spinning him around before shoving him right back into it. Davey just manages to catch himself against the uneven wall, and he barely gets a moment to widen his stance before Jack plasters himself along his back.

“Jack,” he tries again, then breaks off with a shout as Jack rips open his fly and unceremoniously sticks his hand down the front of his pants, wrapping a warm, calloused hand around the base of his dick.

“No underwear?” Jack asks in that same rough voice, pumping him slowly. “You really are gaggin’ for it.”

“You fucking saw me get dressed, you knew I wasn’t⁠—” Davey groans as Jack’s thumb flicks over the head of his cock, teasing his slit. “Fuck, Jack,” he bites out.

He wriggles in Jack’s hold, not sure if he’s trying to grind back against where Jack’s hard and heavy against the cleft of his ass or buck up into the tight clench of his fist, and quickly finds the flat of Jack’s palm between his shoulder blades, pushing him down until all he can do is brace himself against the bricks.

“Jack,” he breathes, hot and overwhelmed and painfully turned on. “Someone’s could walk by, someone could see us⁠—”

“Should’a thought about that before you ran that smart mouth’a yours,” Jack rumbles, and he sounds wild, fierce and feral.

The hand pressed against Davey’s back creeps up to cup around the nape of his neck. The pressure of it is enough to make Davey’s eyes cross and his legs go weak, a strangled moan caught in his throat.

“Fuck, Jack, please⁠—”

“I told you,” Jack says, and Davey can hear the Wolf in him, stalking just beneath the surface, “that you’d regret playin’ games with me, David.”

Then he tears Davey’s pants down his thighs, the material giving away easily to his enhanced strength, failing in ruined tatters around Davey’s knees.

“Jack!” Davey gasps, head falling forward, desire swelling sharply as the night air rushes over his flushed skin, his leaking cock. “You⁠— I liked those pants!”

“I’ll get’cha another pair,” Jack grits out, reaching around to drag his thumb over Davey’s lips. “Open your mouth.”

Davey’s lips part obediently and he eagerly sucks two of Jack’s fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue over his knuckles. Once they’re good and wet, Jack tugs his hand free and presses those fingers deep inside him, right where Davey needs it most.

“Oh, fuck,” Davey whimpers, arching back into the sensation.

Jack scissors his fingers, impatient, then curls them up with a twist of his wrist, working him open with a rough efficiency that makes Davey’s head spin.

“You made me do this,” Jack says, almost conversationally, like he isn’t bringing Davey closer to insanity with every crook of his fingers. “You jus’ can’t help but push me, can ya querido? Always so desperate for me’ta treat you rough. To have me throw you down and mark up every goddamn inch of you, over and over and over again,’til everyone knows that you’re mine.”

Jack’s teeth sink into his shoulder. “Mine.”

He hears the rustle as Jack unzips his fly, feels the denim of his jeans against the back of his thighs. Jack’s hands clamp down around his hips, then he’s pushing into him in one long, relentless stroke, burying himself to the hilt.

“God, look at’cha,” Jack groans. “You’re so perfect for me, cariño, feel so fuckin’ good.”

The zipper of Jack’s fly scrapes his skin and Davey whines when he realizes that Jack didn’t even bother to push his pants down, just freed himself enough to get his dick out and fuck him with it. “Jack.”

“I’m right here, sweetheart, I gotcha,” Jack promises, rocking into him. “Still with me?”

He’s boiling, panting, clinging to the wall in front of him because he’s not sure he can hold himself up otherwise, full in all the best ways. “Yes,” he gasps. “Yes, I’m— Please, fuck me.”

Jack sets a brutal, punishing pace, driving into him like a man possessed. There’s the furious slap of skin on skin, the harsh sound of their heaving breaths, and the angle he’s chosen has him hitting Davey’s prostate without even having to try. Davey trembles and keens, fingers scrabbling at nothing as Jack splits him open on his cock, claiming him completely, inside and out.

“Luz de mi vida,” Jack murmurs with another ruthless thrust. “Look so pretty takin’ my cock.”

“More,” Davey begs, because he needs it, he needs it, he needs it. “Jackie, please⁠—”

Jack growls—it’s a dark, dangerous noise, as though he’s clinging to the last remnants of his self-control—and his hands clench even tighter around Davey’s hips. He grinds in hard, then his pace picks up, somehow managing to bury himself even further inside of him, so deep that Davey almost thinks he can taste him in the back of his throat.

“You’re mine,” Jack says, an order and a promise, his mouth like a brand against the nape of Davey’s neck. “Do you understand me, David? You’re mine.”

Jack pulls him back into the next thrust, and it’s so good, so intense, that Davey cries out, every inch of him alight with pure want.

“Say it,” Jack commands. “Say it.”

“Yours,” Davey chokes out, his voice threatening to break around a sob. He can feel his orgasm starting to build, licking its way up his calves, around his thighs, swelling higher and higher with every snap of Jack’s hips. He’s barely able to think through the onslaught, sparks fluttering behind his eyes, desire coiling low in his belly, insistent and inescapable. “I’m yours, Jack, I’m⁠— oh, fuck⁠—”

Jack reaches down, wrapping a hand back around Davey’s throbbing, leaking dick, jerking him hard and fast like he can wring every last dreg of pleasure out of his body, and it’s too much, it’s not enough, it’s⁠—

White-hot ecstasy.

Davey bucks and thrashes as wave after wave of pleasure crash over him, breathless with the strength of his orgasm. He’s trembling, shivering in the aftermath of it, and if it weren’t for Jack’s body behind him, holding him up, he thinks his knees might have given out entirely. Jack groans, ragged and guttural, hips slamming forward one last time, and then he’s coming too, spilling deep inside of him.

He can feel Jack’s chest heaving against his back, can feel the way their hearts pound in tandem⁠—almost a more intimate sensation than the mind-blowing sex. Jack kisses his cheek, runs a gentle hand down his spine, then carefully pulls out.

“Made a mess of ya,” Jack says, his eyes shining amber in the darkness, still coming down from his high.

“Just what I wanted,” Davey sighs, sagging against that broad chest, perfectly satisfied. “Love it when you get all territorial.”

“More like you love’ta provoke me,” Jack snorts, holding him close.

“Oh, that too,” Davey easily agrees. “But you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

“Not a chance,” Jack murmurs, tucking his nose to his neck, then pressing another kiss to the bruised, tender skin there. “I ain’t ever lettin’ you go."

Davey smiles. “Right back at you, darling.”

#newsies #javid #jack kelly #davey jacobs #*editor's note #*the writing desk #*final cut #tease series #Jack is *possessive* possessive in this one #another entry in my werewolf!Jack/incubus!Davey verse #please enjoy!

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