bringing_sexy_beck: PB: Jake Gyllenhaal (Default)
Quentin Beck ([personal profile] bringing_sexy_beck) wrote2019-10-03 08:58 pm
Entry tags:

AU | for Peter}

It isn't the first time, and it won't be the last.


It starts with a text, like it always does. Not from him. He lets Peter come to him. The reasons vary. Boredom. Boyfriend out of town. Heat coming on. Quentin doesn't ask any more because the fact is that Peter keeps coming back and that's all that matters.

He supposes, this time, it might be a combination. It's about that time of the year where Peter gets so antsy that Quentin knows he needs something more than anyone else can give. Something that he's come to understand Quentin can give, and consistently. He isn't one of those young hair trigger kids, after all, barely knowing what he's doing. And Peter knows that.

But Quentin lets the first text stew, and even the second. The more desperate Peter gets, the more Quentin knows he can get out of him.

It's half way through the next day, a string of unanswered but definitely read texts sitting on his phone, that Quentin give Peter a little relief. Well, it's about his time of the year too. And he can't say no to that sweet, needy boy, no matter how much he ought to. He tells Peter to meet him at the bar of the hotel he's staying at--no reason to say why he's in town, that isn't part of this arrangement they've made.

And so he will. Quentin waits in the bar, sipping gin, keeping an eye out for Peter.

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-04 01:51 am (UTC)(link)

The very worst part of all this? Peter knows he's being played. He knows that Quentin likes to let him work himself up with his texts, yet Peter can't recall a single time they've done this where he didn't fall into the same trap he always does. A casual text. Another casual follow-up. A slightly more irritated message. Irritation, but with a side of 'please'. He always feels especially foolish when he ends up begging via text, but this is just—

It's a hormonal thing, okay? That's what he tells himself. It's not something he can control.

Relief floods him when Quentin finally texts him a time and a place. It's dizzying, being kept dangling on the end of a hook like that, which explains why he doesn't think to fire back some smart-mouthed quip about taking his sweet time to get back in touch. Instead, he replies with a thumbs up emoji and confirms that he'll be there, before tossing his phone onto his desk so he can properly distract himself from feeling like the worst kind of boyfriend. The cheating kind of boyfriend. Peter likes Connor — really, he does — and they've been having a great time together for the last six months, but ...

But Connor's a Beta, he can't grow facial hair either, and sometimes Peter just needs something more. Maybe Peter could get it from someone who isn't Quentin freaking Beck, but he's just so good at giving him what he needs — even when he doesn't know he needs it.

"Hey," he murmurs, slipping onto the barstool next to Quentin. Peter's done his best to be on time (which means he's only running ten minutes late), and while he hasn't dressed up for the occasion? He hasn't exactly dressed down either. There's a hormonal tug in his stomach that wants Quentin to be pleased with him, maybe even to like the way he's parted his hair and opted for his natural scent over cologne, and Peter feels heat flushing his cheeks already as he fiddles with his sleeve before shooting a Look towards the Alpha. Man, he's still stupid handsome.

"Are you gonna finish that here, or can we go to your room?"

And if he sounds kind of sweetly hopeful? Well. That's neither here nor there.

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-04 12:33 pm (UTC)(link)

Peter can't disguise the way his scent shifts from needly to relieved when Quentin places that hand at his back. Not that he thought the other man was going to hold out on him, but the touch is like a promise of things to come, and Peter has to resist the urge to scoot his stool a little bit closer just so he can enjoy even closer proximity. The fact that they're both here, the touch, the knowledge of what they're going to do when they get upstairs ...

It's enough. For now, in any case.

"... No, we don't have to." He leans forwards just enough to rest his forearms on the bar, hoping to catch the attention of the bartender. "Could I get a water, please?"

Peter glances at Quentin's gin. He's snuck the odd beer here and there, sure, but when his hormones are in flux he prefers to keep his head clear and his body hydrated. It's not like he isn't going to be all messed up in a haze of sex later on, anyway, which has him sucking on his lower lip momentarily before flitting his attention back to Beck. Settling back a little, Peter shifts so that his arm is more firmly around him.

"... How long are you gonna be in town?"

One night? Two? How much time do they have together?

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-04 07:08 pm (UTC)(link)

Something settles deep inside Peter when Quentin tightens his arm around him. He's always liked a little possessiveness: even Connor, who's a Beta, has a bit of a selfish streak in him, and his need to keep Peter close when they're out is actually something that works in his favour. Peter wants to be touched, marked, wrapped up in a scent that explains to other that he belongs, which is why he melts into the touch instead of trying to flinch away.

A week. A week. Peter swallows hard, his lashes fluttering just barely when the other man leans in to murmur against his ear, and has to ball his hands into tight little fists on his lap in an attempt to keep them to himself. He wants to reach out and touch him— more than that, he wants to climb up into his lap and push his face into his throat, but he somehow manages to calm himself enough to focus on evening out his shaky breath.

"Really? As like ... your assistant, or just a guest?"

Because he so, so desperately wants to attend the NSC, but getting involved is actually pretty difficult if you're not a genius, a tenured academic, or a celebrity. How could he have forgotten about it? Why didn't he realise that of course Quentin would be back for it? Peter huffs a little breath, then drags a hand through his hair before reaching for his water.

"We probably shouldn't go somewhere like that together, but ..." But he wants to. All thoughts of Connor fade to black at the back of his mind as he gives into a fantasy of being out with Quentin, which runs a shiver of pleasure down the whole length of his spine.


"I'll behave," he says softly, turning his head just enough so that their cheeks almost brush. "If you'll take me, I promise I'll be good, Sir."

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-05 12:37 am (UTC)(link)

Peter glances around as he sips his water, attempting to gauge just how overheard they might be when he answers Quentin's question. Luckily for the both of them there's no one close — even the bartender isn't paying attention to them — but he still leans in a little closer as he brings a hand up to touch Quentin's chest.

"You already know," he huffs, his lips pressing into a thin line before he sighs and continues: "I want— your knot. Please. I dunno what's different this time, but I just ... I really need it. And I want the thing we usually do?" Peter doesn't like admitting it aloud, especially not when they're in public, but he always comes that bit harder when he's being called baby. When he's calling Quentin Sir.

He looks towards the back of the bartender again before continuing:

"I— um. I think my heat's really close, and Connor's never helped me with one before. I kind of don't want him too, since ... it's hard for Betas to keep up, y'know? I don't want him to feel bad, and I want— I wanna feel good."

Because riding out a heat without an Alpha can be pretty freaking awful, and Quentin's proven time and time again that he knows exactly how to fuck Peter the way he needs it. Hard. Deep. Sometimes barely moving, just making him feel all of it. Peter squeezes his thighs together at the thought, willing himself not to embarrassingly slick up while they're seated at the bar.

"Please?"

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-06 11:12 pm (UTC)(link)

The warmth in Quentin's voice when he says sweet boy pushes a flush of heat into Peter's belly.

"Just don't rip anything," he murmurs, glancing up at him through his lashes as they move through the lobby towards the elevators. It's a nice hotel — Quentin has good taste — but Peter's attention is so far from the polished foyer and elegant fixtures that it really doesn't matter. They could be in a fleabag motel and he'd still be looking at Quentin like he's everything he needs in the world.

"Do you ... d'you want something, too?"

Because for all Peter's aware that he's on the edge of his own heat, there's a tell-tale spice to Quentin's own scent that suggests he might be heading towards a similar situation. It's been a while since their respective heat and rut fell over the same few days, and while they still might miss each other ... Well. The lead-up is always enjoyable, too.

"You know I wanna make you feel good." Peter touches Quentin's forearm as the lift pings and the doors slide smoothly open. He doesn't know which floor they're heading to so he leaves that to the other man, all the while letting himself enjoy their close proximity as they stand together, elbow to elbow.

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-07 10:21 pm (UTC)(link)

Quentin puts a hand on the back of Peter's neck. Quentin herds him against the elevator wall. Peter feels his pulse quicken, then jump up even higher when the other man presses his nose against the curl of his hair. He was always too embarrassed to ask for this kind of thing before Quentin: so far his boyfriends and girlfriends have wanted to break from tradition, not play into the stupid roles, and while Peter gets that, it's also made scratching his kinkier itches a little ...

Difficult. How're you supposed to ask your Alpha, Omega-rights activist girlfriend to treat you like a possession? How're you supposed to ask your Beta boyfriend if he could pretend he's trying to get you pregnant? Peter sighs deeply, turning his own face into the front of Quentin's throat, then brings his hands up to smooth against the broad, hard planes of his chest.

"'Kay," he murmurs, feeling himself smile despite himself. He is needy, and he wants that knot stretching him open and filling him up over and over before the night is up. Beck might not be a real superhero, but he's always had enough stamina to keep up with Peter and his needs.

It's a blessing.

"I wanna kiss you." Slipping a hand up to Quentin's neck, Peter lifts his eyes to the smooth curve of his lips before wetting his own with a flit of his tongue. "Please, Sir."

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-08 12:28 am (UTC)(link)

Peter feels himself flush an impossible shade of scarlet when the elevator doors slide open, not just because of their sudden PDA, but because he really wishes the woman hadn't put herself in their space. While the scent of a Beta is largely uninteresting Peter is a hyper-sensitive Omega toeing the line of a heat, which means the sudden intrusion of an unfamiliar smell is just about the worst thing he could ask for.

Luckily for him, Quentin seems is still of a mind to put Peter's needs before anything else. The kiss distracts him from his discomfort — he doesn't think about the Beta again until she disembarks a few floors later — his hands fisting the front of Quentin's jacket as he pants softly against his lips. When they finally reach the penthouse floor Peter's pretty certain he's getting wet just from their proximity—

But he doesn't need to feel embarrassed by it anymore. They're alone again, and Quentin's suite is just up ahead.

"I bet she's gonna be thinking about us for the rest of the day," he snorts, doing his best to keep his hands to himself for all he wishes he were still touching Quentin in some way. "We uh— we smell pretty strong right now."

Which he actually looks pretty pleased about, but that's neither here nor there.

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-08 01:24 am (UTC)(link)

It's a fair enough warning. As soon as Peter's over the threshold he toes off his sneakers and begins working on the fastenings of his jeans, deciding that ripped tshirt is probably easier to fix than a pair of jeans with a broken zipper. His socks come of with them, then his light hoodie, which leaves him standing there in his shirt and boxers, which are ever so slightly damp with slick from where Quentin pressed into the cleft of his ass.

"Fast enough for you?"

Pulling his tshirt off over his head, Peter takes a hand through the tousled mess of his air before stepping in close to splayed his palms against Quentin's chest. Maybe it's the heat, but he's even more eager than usual to get his hands all over the Alpha's bare skin. Regardless of how their biology (or even how they feel about each other) there's no denying that Quentin is hot, and Peter is positively aching with need when the door finally snicks closed behind them.

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-08 09:34 pm (UTC)(link)

And this time, Peter actually groans into the kiss. It feels so good to not have to keep up the pretence of being careful with one another: in the privacy of Quentin's suite they can finally, finally give in to what they want. Peter reaches for him again, his palms moving appreciatively over the flex and bunch of the other man's biceps, and he exhales hard against the line of his jaw when he gathers his boxers and tears them off.

... Duh. Peter should have planned for that.

"Y'know, I think you just like making a mess of my stuff," he accuses, although there's a hot edge to it that suggests he isn't actually complaining. Peter wiggles out of the torn fabric before kicking it away, which leaves him naked, hard, and wet for his temporary Alpha.

Temporary. It's just temporary. Even though they keep doing this, it's not— sustainable.

"Bedroom?" Peter skims his hands up to loop his arms around Quentin's neck. He likes how small he feels next to him — Peter's stronger, but it turns him on to pretend that he isn't — and he presses himself up against him so that his naked body is flush against Quentin's clothed one.

"Or do you wanna do it over the couch again?"

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-08 10:23 pm (UTC)(link)

Peter tucks his nose against Quentin's hair as he's lifted and carried over to the couch, soaking up as much of his scent as he can while they're pressed so close to one another. He feels hazy and dreamy, the way he always does when they meet up to strip down and fuck, and he runs both hands down to the nape of Quentin's neck as he's set down and spread out for him.

He likes it like this. He likes being watched, likes being moved around and opened up for someone else's pleasure, and he spreads his knees just that bit further when Quentin slinks over him to do just that. The first finger is always a little difficult — Peter's sure he could be slick as anything and still have trouble taking it — but by the second? He's positively purring, his back pulling into an arch as a hand skids down to settle between his legs.

"Can I ... ?"

His fingers wrap around the small rise of his cock, but he doesn't stroke it. Instead, he looks up at Quentin through the fan of his lashes and leans up for another dirty-hot kiss.

"... Please, Sir."

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-08 11:12 pm (UTC)(link)

Peter's eyes rove over the suddenly bared skin of Quentin's chest, greedy and obvious in the way he appreciates being able to see just that bit more of him. He's a gorgeous Alpha - fit, strong, dusted with hair in all the right places - and Peter let's his free hand slide down the curve of the other man's ribcage and grip tight when he presses in again. He feels himself squeeze around him, his hole clenching on his fingers like it would around his cock, which pulls another low groan from Peter's throat as his body tricks itself into thinking he's being fucked.

"Mmh ..."

Peter gives his dick a few leisurely pulls while he watches Quentin open up his jeans. Even half hard, his dick looks positively delicious, and he rolls his hips down onto his hand as he let's his mind wander to how it'll feel when it's slick and stuffed inside him.

"S'good," he manages, reaching down with his free hand to stroke and squeeze at the heft of it. Peter twists his fist around his own dick while he thumbs at the head of Quentin's, his colour hectic and his lips open around a couple of wet little pants.

"C'mon, just-- fuck me, I wanna feel you get hard in me."

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-08 11:36 pm (UTC)(link)

The slap doesn't sting, but Peter ends up shivering like it does. He'd asked MJ to slap him once, back when he'd thought they were really settling into the sexual side of their relationship, but in hindsight he now recognises that moment as the beginning of the end. She'd been different after that - hadn't wanted to have sex as much, tried to spend more time talking to him about Omega liberation - and then things had just ... fizzled. They broke up. She started dating Helena from iFemSoc, and Peter accepted a date with Connor.

Life goes on.

Freshly slapped and flipped over onto his front, Peter's feeling better than he has done in weeks. He arches back instinctively, spreading his knees for a little leverage against the couch, and drops his forehead against the cushions for a moment as he wets his dry lips again.

"Please? Please, Sir, I want it--" God, but he can feel slick running down over his balls. Peter swallows thickly before continuing with his pleae: "Want your cock so bad, want you to fuck me 'til I cry from it."

He chances a glance back over his shoulder, brown eyes dark with want.

"Need you, Sir."

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-09 12:26 am (UTC)(link)

Peter might not be worked up, but he's still trembling with anticipation by the time he feels Quentin settling in behind him. It feels like an age since he last had the kind of sex that's left him satisfied - completely, bone-deep satisfied - and the rub of an Alpha's cock against the slick of his hole is almost too much for him to bear.

It's slow going, and later Peter might that him for taking his time. He hasn't slept with too many Alphas but Peter's pretty sure Quentin is the biggest he's had, and even half hard, it's a struggle to take him down to the very base. He whines on it, his breathing ragged as he tilts his hips to find the best angle, his heart pounding in his throat by the time Quentin leans in to nuzzle at his shoulder.

Man, he's missed this. He's really, really missed this. The words 'good boy' hum against his shoulder and Peter moans again, louder this time, and reaches back with one hand to stroke and grip at Quentin's thigh.

"F-For you ... just for you," he breathes, his eyes screwed shut as he clenches and throbs around the heavy weight of his dick. "No one does it like you do."

[personal profile] awesomeee 2019-10-13 10:18 pm (UTC)(link)

Quentin doesn't go slow, and a ragged groan melts into the cushions beneath Peter as he tries to spread his knees just that bit further. He loves it when his partners really try and make him feel it: sometimes Connor can be persuaded to fuck him good and hard, which Peter always enjoys, but there's nothing quite like laying with his face down, his ass up, and being made to take an Alpha's cock. The slap of their skin join his heartbeat and panting as one of the few things cutting through the haze of pleasure, and he briefly squirms his hips against the couch just to chase a little friction.

"God, yeah, c'mon ..."

The scrape of teeth pulls another shiver through Peter, from the top of his spine right down into the space behind his balls. It tightens him up around Quentin, his hole clenching and fluttering as he arches to bear down on his dick, his nails pressing little red half-moons into the other man's thigh as he grips at him just shy of too tight.

"Can I touch myself?" Peter likes the permission, and he likes being denied as much as he likes being given it. "Please, please let me, Sir."