BB: HELLO!!!! Okay, everyone, this is not normal for me, but...I've done a collab! This is called Gettin Armed, by my friend Elen and me. Right now, it's incomplete, but it'll be finished sometime! (This is an RP-fic [fic that was written in an RP].)

I DO NOT OWN GAVEL, JAG, OR REN! THEY ARE ELEN'S! I OWN NEXT, RUBY...and the creepy guy on the phone!

Rating: M!!!!

Warnings: Language (possibly); angst; weapons; SEX! YAOI SEX!!!!!!!!!!! ...don't like don't read; SCARS.

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"So ya see, that's why I gotta have a knife!" Gavel smiled brightly at the teenager walking beside him, having laid out his argument like the best lawyer.

Jag rolled his eyes. "You're going to drop that jar, and your friend won't be happy." He had never been against Gavel having a knife. He barely knew the boy, but from what he did know of him, and having seen him searching the woods, he knew Gavel wouldn't be irresponsible. He would have given Gavel one of his own older knives, but Gavel had insisted he knew 'this totally awesome guy who makes awesome stuff for everyone and he could totally make me a knife if I give him a jar of cherries' But of course, Gavel couldn't get a jar of cherries by himself, being only eight and known for his rambunctiousness, so Jag had gone with him, and then Gavel had demanded Jag come with him to see 'how totally awesome this awesome guy was!'

So here they were, going down the hallway to the room of one 'Next', who apparently was also from the US, another reason that Jag supposedly had to meet him. Because sharing a homeland with two hundred fifty million other people gave you a special connection to them.

Gavel stopped in front of one of the doors and grinned up at Jag expectantly. Oh. Another reason why Gavel had dragged him along: he didn't want to have to put down the jar. Jag rolled his eyes again and rapped his knuckles against the door.

Gavel was quite literally bouncing with excitement.

Next raised his head at the sound of a knock on his door, sighing quietly. Why did people seem to want to interrupt him when he was fixing his work? Why did they find it fit to knock during his special creation sessions?

With another sigh he pushed the roller chair away from the desk and stood, walking over to the door and opening it, looking straight ahead.

"Yes? Are you here for business or another reason?" Next kept his tone of voice neutral as he looked over the two visitors. There was a boy who looked around his own age, carrying a jar of cherries--business--and the young boy whom he had heard others call Gavel, who was staring up at him and almost bouncing on his heels. "Won't you come in?"

Normally, Next never invited people into his room, only if it was business. And, since they had a jar of cherries...well, there was no doubt it was business. He moved out of the way, holding the door open with his back. "Please do not touch anything you see. I keep things very precise around here."

Gavel stilled himself and took the jar of cherries from Jag, extending them to Next. "We're here on business. I want a knife, see, and Jag here says he thinks it's a good idea."

Jag had been surveying the room surreptitiously, quite impressed, but when he heard his name he snapped back to attention. When Next's eyes shifted to him, he nodded. "He spends a lot of time in the woods." He didn't think there was any more explanation needed than that.

Next nodded his head, closing the door when the two of them got inside. The room was pretty dark, except for his work light, and he decided to give them a fair warning. "Don't touch anything, and be careful where you step. Touch out with your toe first, don't just stomp around."

His maroon eyes lingered on Gavel as he said that, mostly because he knew that the boy enjoyed rushing around places. Afterward he walked over to his desk and sat in the rolling chair, gesturing as he moved the reading lamp to show two more chairs sitting a few feet away from him.

"Have a seat, boys. You can set the jar down on the desk. Now, tell me what you're in the market for. I'm very sure that you can't have anything that would be overly dangerous on you at all times, but I could work something in. Just in case you ever run into trouble."

Gavel's eyes widened and he stared down at the ground as he tiptoed forward. Jag followed Gavel's footsteps closely, still watching the floor and feeling forward with his feet. They proceeded to set down the cherries and sit down in the two chairs Next indicated.

Gavel immediately pulled his knees up to his chest and grinned widely at Next. "That's what I was thinking! 'Cause there were all these wolves and you have to be real careful! Plus, if I need to cut a rope or a tree branch or something, I have to have a knife to do that."

Jag turned back to Next and nodded. "We're just looking for something simple. I would have given him one of mine, but he insisted that you're the best." He waved a hand, indicating the room. "I can see what he means."

Next gave a mild-mannered shake of his head. Though he had great pride in his work when it was completed, if it wasn't, things wouldn't work out right.

"I'm not the best. I merely do the best I can." He smiled and stood up, slowly walking over to one of the drawers where he kept the emergency knives. He looked for the right kind of blade and found it almost immediately, smiling.

"Here. The design is rather intricate, but the blade, while deadly when held right, will not harm you." Next pulled out a beautiful knife, one with a handle that was shaped to look almost exactly like a wolf with its legs straight out. The wolf was completely made of black onyx shot through with pure silver, as well as streaks of sapphire and a wonderful red jewel right in the center of its forehead. The eyes were yellow citrine and seemed to glow, and the whole thing made it look like the wolf would jump right off to attack anyone who harmed the owner of the blade. "Will this work, Gavel?"

Gavel gasped and started to jump up, belatedly remembering to watch his feet. He looked down sheepishly and checked that he hadn't stepped on anything. Then he meekly nodded at Next. "It's real pretty sir! I mean, it's handsome! It's nice-looking, real, real nice-looking! I like it very much! Can I touch it?!"

Jag raised a hand casually to his mouth and smiled. Gavel was even more excited than he had been getting his first knife. And this was a much nicer-looking knife than his own first knife had been. Next truly was an artist.

Next chuckled and looked down at Gavel, holding out the knife hilt-first.

"It's yours, if you wish for it to be." He stated quietly, giving a smile to the boy. He would willingly give this bit of work to Gavel, because it was something the child needed. "You have given me payment, and now I am to give you something to work with. I am giving you this knife."

Next looked over at the other male who had come into his room, the one that Gavel had called Jag. He didn't look too bad, but he was still very strange.

"Would you care for a knife as well? I have more than I could ever use in my lifetime."

Gavel nodded quickly and took the knife. "Thank you Mister Next sir!" He looked excitedly at Jag. "Jag, you oughta get one! See mine!" He held it out to Jag, flat on his palms.

Jag smiled a little and took the wolf knife from Gavel, unsheathing it and examining the blade. It was a good knife, as good as any of the most expensive ones in his drawer, and it was made to look like art. Ren would like one. He resheathed the knife and handed it back to Gavel, hilt-first. He smiled appreciatively at Next and nodded.

"I have a cousin; she carves. Would you have a knife that would suit her?"

A carver. Next smiled and nodded, turning around and taking the few steps back to the drawer where his knives were kept, reaching in to look around.

"I have this one." He stated as he pulled out a knife with a strong blade, perfect for carving, which had a hilt shaped to look like a cat. It had started out as a cat, at least, but when Next had finished it, the result had been more like a mountain lion: a dusky brownish gold metal as the base, wonderful bright golden eyes, he'd even gone so far as to add life-like additions. "It is my best carving knife."

He held it out to Jag, keeping his hand so that the mountain lion hilt would easily be seen.

Jag's smile turned sentimental. He took the knife almost reverently from Next's hands, turning it over and examining it. It was a beautiful piece of work, and wonderfully fitting for Ren. He returned it to Next's hands.

"It's beautiful. But I'm afraid I can't afford something so lovely."

Gavel could have gagged. Seriously, everywhere he went, teenagers were stupid. He really was going to go live in the woods with Life.

Next tilted his head and looked at Jag, giving a smile as he returned the knife to the boy's hand again.

"Don't fret over it. You can just pay next time, and I suppose I'll just charge you for a few dozen walnuts." He flashed his smile and wrapped Jag's fingers around the knife, a gentle look on his face. "You need it, so you can have it."

With that, Next pulled his hands away, moving over and closing the drawer with the knives inside it, reaching a hand up to mess up his hair.

"So, we're all settled, yes? If there is another thing you wish to know, I will be glad to tell you." The boy really just wanted them to get out of his room so that he could get back to his work, but knowing his luck lately, this wasn't going to happen. So, until that time, he would just have to think of ways to keep them occupied until they did leave.

Jag smiled back at Next, watching as he went to close the knife drawer. He noticed Gavel leaning over Next's desk too late.

"Hey, wow, what's this you're doing?! It's real neat!"

Next turned around to look at what Gavel was talking about. It was a mini-statue of a Snow Leopard, something he had been working on for a couple of days. He didn't know why he had wanted to create it, but he had. It was a whim, just a mystical whim that told him to create something beautiful.

"It's a snow leopard, Gavel." He stated, walking over to stand behind the boy, a smile on his lips. "I've made it out of every kind of metal I had, as well as the perfect jewels to create the patterns from the fur. I think it looks quite nice."

Gavel nodded, fascinated by the in-progress Snow Leopard. He'd been dreaming about big cats a lot lately... They almost felt like Ghost Man dreams, except instead of black clouds and skulls and bones it had been...just mist, mist and grass and the big cats padding into view. Some of them looked at him, some of them didn't. But the Snow Leopard...he'd looked right at Gavel and tilted his head funny, like it was a joke.

He looked up at Next. "Can I touch him?"

Next looked at Gavel, tilting his head. He had never let someone even see his work incompleted, let alone touch it, but the little boy looked so eager, as though he sincerely wanted to do such a thing...

"I suppose you may, but do not smudge any of the jewels if you can help it. I cannot polish them until I finish, and by then I do not think the smudge would be easy to remove."

Gavel nodded, feeling transfixed by the little metal Snow Leopard. He reached out with one finger and touched the Snow Leopard's nose with just the tip of his fingertip. Then, for some reason he couldn't exactly understand, he pursed his lips and blew gently on the Snow Leopard's nose. The fog from his breath reached the little statue's eyes, and as the mist cleared from them, it looked almost like a blink. Gavel smiled and gave a subdued giggle. "I think he's alive."

Jag stood up and put a hand on Gavel's shoulder, looking down at the Snow Leopard. There was something...curious about it. He turned his head to smile a little at Next. "He's beautiful. He could very well be alive."

"Perhaps he is. Perhaps he is." Next put on a mysterious smile as he said this, then chuckled. "People always say that the work takes part of the artist and become alive through it. I doubt I would be able to make this Leopard live, but, perhaps someone else shall."

He reached one of his fingers out and stroked over the twisted metal he had made the leopard from, allowing his fingers to trail down from the snout over the fangs, almost cutting his finger on one.

"When I am done with him, I will finish off my other projects. But for now, he is my main focus. After all, when something comes as a whim, it is hard to deny it." Next knew this very well, since he had many whims when it came to his jewels, and he often started new projects, one right after another. The one before he had started the snow leopard had been a panther made of onyx and dark rosetta prints made from black quartz. It had been a beautiful piece, and he still had it, hidden in the third drawer of the desk that the Leopard was sitting on. "Whims are always whims, and they sometimes need to be desired."

Jag smiled too. Whims indeed. Ren would probably chew him out for the knife, as too 'whimsical' and 'frivolous,' but it seemed so important that he take it. It was important, because the artist was important. He deserved such respect.

"Do you plan on entering the market, after you graduate?" Jag asked. Next could easily be in the highest demand, bigger than those little Faberge eggs. There was a...simplicity to his work, even in the ornateness, something clean to it. And he wished he was better with words, because he'd like to tell Next what he thought.

'Seriously, does everyone have to make cow eyes at each other all the time?' Gavel thought. 'Turns out Jag didn't have that gaga-ness because he's too clueless!' He eyed the door longingly, trying to come up with an excuse to leave. 'Bathroom, classes, a friend...wish I had someone to call me.' But no one ever called Gavel's phone. Or at least, he didn't think so. He always left his phone places...

"The market? I suppose I will. I have never given much thought to it before, since making jewels is not the only thing I care to do. There are many other forms of art I take part in, but the jewelry is something I just enjoy." Next gave a sweet smile and reached over to stroke the snow leopard again, then he pulled his hand back. "This is not my best, however."

Next got down on his knees and reached for the third drawer of the desk, opening it to reveal a covered statue. He lifted it up, making sure neither boy could see it, and sat it beside the snow leopard.

"This is my first true whim. My favorite, I believe." With that said, Next pulled off the cloth and revealed the panther, looking alive and dangerous in the light. "Meet my panther."

Gavel didn't miss the soft intake of breath from Jag. Seriously, could he have picked anyone more likely to end up "smitten?" (Smitten was a silly word. It sounded like someone smashed "smash" and "bitten" together. And that was a silly idea.)

"He's real pretty. Jag likes him a lot," he said in a long-suffering tone of voice. "Jag thinks you're one of the coolest people he's ever met. And he used to be Davy Crockett in a past life, so that means a lot."

He couldn't see Jag behind him, but he was pretty sure the dude was sitting on the urge to whap him upside the head. If he did, it'd be okay enough though. Sure, Gavel'd yell like the dickens, but Dad said sometimes he needed whapped upside the head. It was part of bein' in the family. Sarah whapped Dad upside the head alot. Sometimes she whapped Gordon upside the head too. Sarah was good at whappin'. Now that he didn't have her to whap him upside the head, Gavel sometimes did it himself. It was kinda hard to judge, though. He did an awful lot of silly things. Like bringin' Jag to meet Next. That was real silly.

Next chuckled quietly and looked down at Gavel, the light reflecting and making red points in his pupils.

"Is that so? Davy Crockett? How intriguing." He really didn't believe that Jag would think of him as "one of the coolest people he's ever met," but it was nice to know that he liked the panther. That panther had taken a lot out of Next, because it had been one of his very first statues. It was his pride and joy. "I am glad he likes the panther, however. If he would like, I will even give him a copy of it."

Gavel tipped his head backward to peer at Jag. He was awful glad Jag wasn't a blusher. Gavel didn't think he could handle Jag blushing. He might have to whap Jag, and he was pretty sure that could lead to a whooping. And while Gavel could get over whaps, he wasn't in the mood to wrestle his way out of a whooping from Jag. 'Specially not in Next's room, there was too much pretty stuff. And pointy stuff. What a way to end.

"He might want a copy. He really wants to come back to examine it another time. And another. And another. At least 'til he learns how to talk again. And maybe some after that, if you don't kick him out for schmoozing."

...Jag really did want to 'whap' Gavel. Honestly, was an eight-year-old flirting for him? Did he want to be flirted for? And did he really want to consider that he wanted to flirt, especially while the possible subject of flirtation was standing beside him...

He cleared his throat. "It's a masterpiece. I wouldn't have thought a panther could be captured so perfectly."

Gavel was making a better job of it, gorramit.

Next blinked for a second, and then he did something he could not remember ever having done before in the presence of clients.

He laughed.

His laugh was quiet, but somewhat gentle, a kind of thing that you could expect from someone who was not like Next, all business and other things. In fact, his laugh was so surprising to himself, he stopped almost as soon as he started, but the damage was already done.

"I will be happy to allow you to return whenever you wish. Merely make an appointment, or, if you care to remain unscheduled, merely knock before you enter the room." He flashed a friendly smile, one that wasn't his usual one. "I would be glad to see you."

Jag returned the smile and nodded. "I would be glad to do so. Your work, and your company, are fascinating. And even though Gavel exaggerates some, I would love to see the panther again."

Maybe it was almost lunchtime. Gavel tried to look around for a clock, but he couldn't find one in the dimness of Next's room. Maybe he ought to start wearing a watch...it could get him out of some sticky situations... Maybe he should just ask about lunch. Then even if Next came with them, Jag couldn't be all "smitten" 'cause of all the other people around...

Next smiled again, when he heard the far-away chimes of the grandfather clock that was a few dozen feet from his room. He knew that it was lunchtime now, so they had to settle this.

"You two should get going. It's lunchtime." He smiled at them both, then sat back down in his seat, getting ready to start on the leopard again. "I'll see you both at a later time."

Gavel rolled his eyes as big as he could and grabbed Jag's arm to drag him away. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us? Jag would reeeeeally like it."

Now Jag did 'whap' Gavel upside the head. "He's working," he said quickly, then realized that could sound like he was trying to put Next off. "We could bring something back for you, if you like."

Next chuckled quietly and shook his head. There wasn't anything that he wanted to eat, he was content to stay in his room and work. Eating wasn't exactly a big thing for him.

"You two go along. I'll be fine here." He said softly and sat back down, looking over the jewels on the desk. He picked one up in the small pair of tweezers he used for such things, grabbing his leather gloves to keep himself from smudging them. "Goodbye for now."

"Bye for now!" Gavel chirped, pulling Jag out of the room and down the hallway. "Jag'll see you later," he called over his shoulder.

Jag rolled his eyes and sighed. "What was that about?"

Gavel rolled his eyes right back. "Youuuu are in love at first sight. Seriously, you've got pheremoooones like whoa. Now let's go eat before you decide to go knock down the door and maul Next's brains out."

Jag wondered how exactly the hell an eight-year-old knew stuff like that. And why he'd picked up on it, when Jag wouldn't have picked up on it himself. ...And how was it an eight-year-old could outflirt him.

"...That's inappropriate," he finally managed. Gavel continued to drag him toward the cafeteria.

"No, inappropriate is missing lunch. Let's go."

Next listened as the two boys left the hallway, walking down toward the lunch room. He didn't go back to work right away, like he usually would have, but took a moment to think about what had just happened.

One, he had just met two strange new students of the orphanage. That was not uncommon.

Two, one of those students had ordered a knife, and the other one had been given one of his own knives, free of charge (at least at the moment), something he had never allowed himself to do before.

Three, according to Gavel, that Jag liked him.

And, of course, number four: He had no idea what to do.

This called for more work.

Gavel complained all the way to the cafeteria, even as they were plummeting down the stairs. Jag rather suspected Gavel of being supernatural, the way he carried on. Perhaps a banshee or something. Finally, they were at the cafeteria and Gavel slung him down at a table--at least, the best an eight-year-old could 'sling' someone two and a half times his size.

"You siddere while I get food, I can't stand lookin' at you no more."

Jag complied with some amusement. Gavel was...quite odd. Ren had done a good thing introducing him though, made him feel like he was getting a little brother. ...Now that he thought about it, Ren had probably felt like she was getting a little brother, and needed a break. Manipulative little girl, wasn't she?

'Speak of the devil...' Here came Ren now, a disgruntled Gavel behind her. Ren balanced three trays. That job in the diner in town had been educational, apparently. She led Gavel back to the table Jag at which had been summarily deposited and slid two of the trays across the table to him.

Jag gave her a questioning look. One of them was obviously his, but the food on the other tray wasn't anything he ate. Ren raised her eyebrows and tilted her head minutely at the door they'd entered through, then at Gavel, who was sliding his own tray onto the table. Jag sighed, but Ren just nodded at him and picked up her fork.

"I kinda suspected," she said after a bite of mashed potatoes. "Y'know?" Jag looked questioningly at her again. She rolled her eyes. Oh. So Gavel had told her.

"...And?"

She shrugged and nodded at the second tray. "One of the women here remembers every single thing people have picked out of her line. She's got to be a grad. Says Next forgets half the time, or can't tear himself away from his work." She nodded at the second tray and looked meaningfully at Jag.

Oh.

"Really?"

She picked up another forkful of mashed potatoes and slowly began bending the tines back. Jag picked up both trays and stepped backward over the bench. How was it everyone got this faster than him?

It looked like he was going back to Next's room.

Next heard his stomach growling, but he couldn't tear himself away from his work to go get something to eat. After all, it wasn't that important. Food wasn't a truly basic necessity to him. Work was.

"Now, I will need some onyx." He reached over into a box with his gloved hands and lifting a couple of them up, sitting them down on the table. He slowly began to put them into the correct positions on the snow leopard, ignoring his growling and empty stomach.

Reaching Next's room, Jag realized he had to set one of the trays down. He had never waited tables, he'd made pancakes instead, and he could flip flapjacks with the best of them. He set down his own tray and knocked, then picked up his tray again.

He hoped Next wouldn't be displeased that Jag was disturbing him again so soon. Or that he'd brought him food, when Next had said he didn't want any. Or that...he was hoping to eat in Next's room too.

Another knock. Didn't people ever learn?

Next sighed and stood up, pushing his rolling chair back from his desk as he did so. Slowly, he moved over to the door and opened it slightly, his eyes narrowed in slight annoyance, until he saw who it was.

"Hello, Jag." He started to say, before he noticed what the boy held in his hands. There were trays, trays of food. Next's stomach growled almost furiously at the sight of it, and he swallowed hard, trying to force himself to focus his mind back on his work, rather than how hungry he was. "What are you doing here?"

Jag smiled sardonically and dipped his head in a so-so motion. "Gavel blabbed to my cousin that, uh, that you had declined to eat, and she summarily kicked me out of the cafeteria with a tray for you."

He held out the tray for Next, then indicated his own. "I don't think I'll be allowed back in, so I brought mine too. I thought I'd just uh, drop this off for you." Good. That'd give Next a way out, so he could eat alone if he wanted.

Next smiled politely and moved back a few steps, motioning for Jag to come inside. He didn't mind having someone to eat with--in all truth, it would remind him that he had to eat.

"Would you like to eat in here? I could clear off my desk, so you would have some place to set the trays." He looked over the trays and saw the different foods on them, as well as the one that was clearly meant for him. "Ria is pretty good at memorization. She gave you all of my favorites: spiced chicken, fruit salad, a soda...How wonderful. Come on in and sit down. I won't mind."

"If you don't mind," Jag accepted, stepping inside Next's room again. It didn't lose any of its wonder the second time around. He smiled in appreciation. "Your work," he said, almost reverently. "It really is beautiful."

If Next was anyone else, he would have blushed. However, since he was Next, he would never allow such a thing to happen, and instead he gave Jag a kind smile.

"Thank you for saying so. I know I am no artist, but I do what I can, under the circumstances I have acquired. After all, to me, work is the most important thing."

Jag raised an eyebrow at Next's remark that he wasn't an artist. "To me, this sure looks like art. You must have seen some pretty spectactular work if you think otherwise." He said it with a little smile though, to soften the statement. "Where do you get your inspiration for all this?"

Inspiration?

Where did Next get his inspiration, where did he find the want to be able to make these pieces?

"I do not know. Inspiration comes from all over, I believe." He whispered softly, sitting down in the chair nearest his desk, smiling. "It just...Happens upon me once in a while."

"It seems to visit you quite frequently," Jag said, indicating the veritable treasure trove of Next's room. He moved one of the chairs closer to the desk and joined Next.

"You're from the States too." His accent was lessened somewhat, so he'd been here for some time, but it was still definitely there.

"I was from the States, yes. Though, to be honest, I've never thought of them as my home." Next stated this around the first bite of his lunch, which he was eating slowly, not ravenously as his body wished for him to do. Those days of not having any sustenance were getting to him. "To me, home is where my work is, and where the people who want to buy my works are. Though, of course, I don't make the students pay me in money, as you've seen. Cherries, walnuts, books...I take other payments, but those are my primary ones."

Jag took a bite of his own food--a hot dog he had meticulously cut into bits--and nodded. "That's very kind of you," he said once his mouth was clear again. "Your work could go for so much, but for the sake of the students..." He let the sentence trail off. Next would know what he meant.

...With the way things were going, Next would probably know what he meant before he even knew what he meant. Was he really just being that slow today...? He made a frustrated sound and took another bite of his hot dog, then realized that, with his previous statement, that didn't sound so good. So he swallowed again and clarified.

"Today...has been ridiculously confusing. I'm sorry, that wasn't directed at you." He smiled quickly and went back to staring at his tray, stabbing a piece of lettuce with a bit more vigor than was necessary.

A small smirk was trying to pull at the corner of Next's lips, but he wouldn't let it. He was going to be polite and comforting with this boy.

Slowly, he reached out a gloved hand, wrapping his fingers over Jag's hand in a motion far too familiar for someone who had just met him, but still, it was a way to calm him.

"Do not worry about it. And I suppose I could make more money off of them--or any money at all. I sometimes sell my works, and the director allows it. I have my own little place in town, though no one ever sees me there. The shipments come from here, go down to the town, and my accquaintence, Ruby, will sell for me, with a few town children and some workers I've hired. It brings in a good amount of wages for all, though all of mine go off to buying new jewels." A small laugh escaped the brunette, and he moved his hand away. "People seem to enjoy watching my creations come to life. Jewels becoming necklaces, bracelets, rings, anklets, belts, knives, or statuettes. Sometimes, if I feel the urge, I will even bejewel strange things, like a soda can. That was one of my strangest whims ever."

Next closed his maroon eyes as he remembered that day: he had been about twelve, and had just finished off a soda when he had been struck by the urge to dazzle it, to cover it in the beauteous jewels he had in his room. The need had been so strong, he had raced up the stairs and did exactly what he had wanted. It had turned out to look pretty good.

"It sold for ten times what I thought it would. I thought it would be merely ten, because I never used the real jewels on it, and I told them that--it was put up on the display. But it sold for much more. I couldn't believe such a thing."

"A soda can?" Jag laughed. "I have to admit, I would have paid good money for that. Well...depending on the kind of soda." He gave Next a lopsided smile and a wink.

Some back part of his brain ground to a halt. He was flirting.

Next had noticed the wink and smile, and almost blinked in confusion. Was Jag actually flirting with him?

Well, well. How interesting.

"It was a cherry soda." He said quietly, his tone hushed in a voice that could only be described as a bedroom voice. "Fake rubies, garnets, and red carnelians finished it off."

The boy gave a wink of his own when he said "finished it off," then chuckled softly. "Sorry. Sometimes, I don't watch my mouth."

Jag choked on his Cherry Coke. Did Next...really just say that? Oh lord, he did. When he managed to swallow the soda without any coming out his nose, spitting it out everywhere, or any other embarrassing things, Jag laughed. He looked back at Next with a devilish glint in his eye. He could retaliate, sure.

"Well, I'd be more than happy to watch it for you."

Oh, this game was fun. Next decided it was time to continue to play.

"Hmm, I don't think that'll be necessary. After all...I'd rather watch something else." He let his eyes trail over Jag's frame, then lifted his coke to his lips and took a long sip, chuckling quietly. "Maybe you'd care to join me?"

Oh, god, Next was actually propositioning him? This game was starting to get a little too close for comfort. But, it was still pretty interesting. Even though Next would never do a relationship, or a one-night fling. He was married to his work.

"Or maybe you'd like to...swallow your drink?" A dark brow raised, a devious and seductive glint in maroon eyes, ones that were glowing slightly red in the dim light. "Or...something else."

Damn, if this kept up, he would end up gathering a reputation for being lavicious. Perhaps it was time to stop the game.

"Would you care to have some of these cherries?" A pale hand, covered in a fingerless black glove offered out the bowl. "They're delicious."

"Well, I certainly can't turn that down." Jag smirked and selected a pair of cherries from the bowl, still connected by their stems. He tipped his head back, holding the cherries up above, and took them into his mouth tantalizingly slowly, his eyes locked with Next's.

He had always found the sight of someone swallowing to be particularly sexy, and with Next's previous flirting, apparently he did too. He let his eyes flutter closed as the sweet cherries slid down his throat...

Next chuckled under his breath, reaching out and grabbing a pair of cherries as well. He bit on the delicate fruit, making sure not to break its skin, pulling both cherries into his lips and then chewing them slowly.

Now he could get to the real prize.

"Did you know that, if you can tie a knot in a cherry stem..." He placed the stems into his mouth, then started working, sticking his tongue out to reveal the two cherry stems tied several times over. "It supposedly means you are a good kisser?"

He reached up and plucked the stems from his tongue, setting them onto the plate as he plucked up another cherry, eating it and swallowing slowly.

"I find that a very interesting bit of fokelore...don't you?" Next let his eyes flicker over to Jag, inwardly smirking at the look on the boy's face. He seemed very uncomfortable, and had started to squirm slightly in his chair. "Something wrong? You look...a bit heated."

Oh, the innuendoes he could give. Next hadn't known he could flirt like this. It was interesting to realize.

Jag stuck out his own tongue, both cherry stems knotted--twice. He'd been fortunate to pick cherries with such long stems. Carefully, he removed the stems and placed them onto his own plate as well.

And yes, he was a bit heated. He was quite turned on. Yet Next still appeared cool as a cucumber...except for his eyes.

Slowly, Jag grinned and reached for another cherry. How long could they keep this up?

So, this was the next stage in their game? Well, Next had always been a grand player at cherry stems.

With a smirk and a fire glowing in his maroon eyes, he pulled out three stems at the same time and placed them on his tongue, pulling the organ back into his mouth and working a few moments, then sticking it back out. The three cherry stems were tied at least five times, each. Next chuckled as he pulled them off his tongue, setting them back on his plate.

"You still look a little hot, Jag." He whispered, reaching out a hand to place it on the boy's knee, letting his fingers drum out a small beat. "Do you need any help?"

Next was inwardly smirking at this, while his exterior stayed as calm as before. Sometimes, being a businessman had more advantages than anyone could think. He let his hand drift upward just a bit, teasing. "I could do something to help you, if you'd care for that."

This time Jag almost choked on the cherry in his mouth. Three points of interest:

One. Five knots.

Two. "Hot and bothered" was an expression for a reason.

Three. Next's hand was drifting upward...

"It is rather warm," he managed, without his voice catching. Damn but it was hot in here. And now was the perfect time for that song to pop into his head. Thanks, Nelly.

A smirk started to tug on Next's lips, and he let his fingers drift up a little too high on the boy's thigh. It was definitely not a place for a boy who wasn't interesting in relationships to be touching, but he was doing it anyway.

"Hmm, isn't it?" He whispered, leaning up to press his lips right to Jag's ear, just to tease him a little more. "You know, you're blushing...it's rather adorable..."

Damn, this game wasn't a game anymore. Somehow, someway, he had crossed from playing into really propositioning him. He had to pull this back, before it got too far.

But it seemed like it wasn't possible. His hand continued it's slightly upward ascent, going a few centimeters every second, and their bodies were still far too close for human comfort.

Dammit, dammit, dammit!

"Jag? You're very warm."

"Mmhmm," Jag murmured with a slight nod. He trailed a hand across Next's side, close to his hip...and waistband.

"Wonder what it would take to make you blush," he whispered, breath hot against Next's cheek. "It'd suit you, your face all flushed...panting a little, maybe...I can picture it, but the real thing would be so much better."

"Can you?" Next whispered in his most sultry voice beside Jag's ear, trailing his hand up to the boy's waistband, trickling his fingers over his stomach. "Hmm, I don't know how much it would take."

Slowly, he stood up and pushed his chair away from his desk, doing the same for Jag's chair. He gave a seductive smirk and straddled the boy's waist in a teasing way, pressing their foreheads together.

"...Would you like to find out?"

Jag echoed the smirk on Next's face, fingers slipping upward to the boy's chest and caressing.

"That," he said huskily, "sounds absolutely wicked."

With that, his hand slid across a sensitive nipple. Next's face looked almost imperceptibly pinker. Jag's eyelids lowered; he began to trace a slow circle around that sensitive spot on Next's chest.

He hadn't expected this, carrying up those two trays less than twenty minutes ago...but there was no way he was complaining.

So, he wanted to play, did he?

Next smirked darkly and leaned forward, staring to nibble and lick at the boy's neck. Jag was turning pinker by the second, and there were small little pants that were starting to escape him.

A little hot, are we? The brown eyed boy thought as he reached a hand up to push Jag's shirt toward his chest, teasing over his stomach and lower waist, then the upper parts of his chest. He wasn't one to fight against what something wanted.

"Hmm, you like to play." A sultry voice that sounded nothing like Next's own escaped his lips, which was surprising. Why did he sound like such an incubus?

"Let's see how much we can play." His fingers trailed to the boy's nipples, twisting and teasing them as his other hand stroked over the boy's pelvic bones. "Let's see how far we can go."

Jag growled and grabbed at Next's short-sleeved jacket, shoving it halfway down his arms before leaving it. One arm locked around the curve of Next's back, the other hand clenching roughly in his hair.

One thing about Jag...sure, he liked to play, but he played like his namesake: rough. He bit down on the junction of Next's neck and shoulder and growled again, releasing his hold after a moment and licking the now-pink skin heavily.

"One spot pink," he murmured, his voice considerably softer than the growls pouring from his throat. His eyes raked over Next's body in his lap. "Lotta places left."

Rough play, ne? Next could get into that.

With a dark smirk that did not match any part of his businessman mentality, Next went and bit down as hard as possible on one of Jag's nipples, tasting the metalic tang of blood.

If Jag wanted it rough, he could give it--

Jag's pocket was vibraiting.

"Either you have a dildo in there," The boy stated lowly, his lips brushing over Jag's ear, "or someone is calling your cell phone."

Jag growled, a different sound from the one he'd used with Next, and pulled out the phone, not bothering to check the caller ID. Only one person would be calling him right now. Ren.

He had to clear his throat hard before he could answer. "We're studying," he managed in a fairly normal voice. The fingers of his other hand continued to tease Next's body, tracing, tweaking, trailing his fingernails across tanned skin.

It wasn't Ren.

"Sorry to hear that. Put Next on the line." The voice from the other line was dark, cold, harsh. It was calling from an unidentified location, and the person who was the owner of that voice was impatient. "Hurry. I don't have all day."

Next continued to taunt and tease Jag as he spoke on the phone, not at all concerned with who was on the other line.

"Hmm, Jag...don't you want to play?" Somehow, Next had managed to get himself out of Jag's lap and down onto the floor in front of him, his fingers trailing over the boy's thighs. "Hmm?"

Who the hell was calling Next on his cell phone, ordering him around like that? Just to be contrary, Jag slid out of the chair to his knees and leaned forward, licking a trail from Next's collarbone to his temple, taking his time. Then he pressed the phone to the Next's ear.

Next blinked when he felt a cell phone being pressed to his ear, and was about to question it, when the voice on the other end spoke.

"Next?"

Brown eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and Next reached up a hand and took the phone, going from heated to frigid in no time flat. "What."

From somewhere in someplace, the person on the other end of the line chuckled. "Now, now, what kind of way is that to greet your uncle?"

"You're not. Shut up and tell me what you want." Next's tone was nothing like the business one he usually used; this one was dangerous, like he would willingly kill the person on the other side of this line, if he could. Raspy laughter escaped the phone, and the man coughed twice. "You're coming home."

That was it. That was fucking it. Whoever the hell could make Next that angry in that little time--Next didn't need protected, nowhere close, but Jag was going to defend him anyway. He pulled the phone away from Next just in time to hear the grating voice say that Next was 'coming home.' That sick voice, defiling his phone, defiling Next, because he was sure that was what had happened...

He snarled into the phone. "He is home, you son of a bitch. And if you come anywhere near here without his express permission, you'll be in a world of pain you've never before imagined, I promise you."

He snapped the phone shut without waiting for a reply, and took a deep, furious breath as a stream of curses ran through his head. That son of a bitch...

Next raised a brow as Jag told the man on the other end of the line off, then hung up. He could see that the boy was incredibly pissed, and he would have to do something about that.

The brunette stood up and wrapped his arms around the darker haired boy, holding him as close as possible.

"...forgive that interruption." He whispered quietly, pressing a kiss to Jag's cheek. "The person you spoke to is.....someone I do not care to mention."

Jag carefully laid a hand against Next's stomach, the other hand curling around the back of the boy's head. He could feel the tension in Next's body.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. It was...Jag had been so lucky, going from loving family to loving family. And Next hadn't had that luck. He'd been hurt, hurt so badly.

Jag pressed a gentle but fierce kiss to Next's forehead. It was so little, all he could do.

Next sighed, deciding that he should explain.

"My family lived in Nevada. I had a mother, and a father. My father's where I got my jeweler talent. Anyway, one day, when I was about seven or so, I went outside our little house and started on my way to school. While I walked, I saw a guy whom my family knew. They were connected to him. he saw me, pulled out a knife, and attacked me. The police were called before any true damage--meaning a rape--could occur. However..." The boy sighed and pulled his shirt up so that it showed the scar. It was a very long scar, one that went from his left thigh to the upper parts of his right ribcage. Most if it (the part on his thigh) was hidden, so it looked shorter than it was. "...I recieved this."

Jag glanced up at Next's face, asking for permission, before he slid his hand across the hard muscles of Next's abdomen to the rough scar tissue. It had gone this long without smoothing, without fading...the wound had been deep. Probably required physical therapy when the stitches came out...that...that scumbag attempting to pass for a man had left as many scars as he could, hadn't he? Stolen so much.

His touch morphed from probing to soothing, stroking gently along the scar as he rested his head on Next's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. "I'm so sorry."

"There's nothing for you to be sorry for. You weren't there, you couldn't have done anything. It's in the past." Next pulled his shirt down, or tried to. Jag stopped him before he could, pushing the shirt back up. "I've always thought it best to keep the past where it belongs; gathering dust in the back of your mind."

Jag looked Next in the eyes, assuring himself that what he was about to do was alright.

"I've always thought," he said, voice lowering again to a husky pitch, "the best way to take care of the past is to make memories to write over them."

Slowly, he pulled Next's shirt up over his head and sank down to one knee, putting his face level with Next's abdomen. He pressed a kiss to the beginning of the scar and looked up into Next's eyes again, Then he touched his lips again to the scar, just below the first kiss.

He would do whatever it took to leach away the anger from that horrible phone call. Next was too good for that.

Soft kisses and trying to get away from the pain. Jag was really something, wasn't he? A few moments ago, they had been getting hot and heavy, and then in the span of a phone call they had gone to frozen solid, and now they were warming again.

"Is that so?" Next whispered quietly, reaching out a hand and stroking the boy's hair. It was calming, to feel someone who wanted to get rid of his pain. "...I think that sounds nice."

Jag had reached the bottom of what was visible of the scar, where it disappeared into Next's jeans. Teasingly, Jag curled his fingers beneath the edge of the waistband and ran his fingers all the way around Next's waist, standing up as he did so.

"Very nice," he growled playfully in Next's ear, nipping at the lobe before attacking his neck again, more lightly this time. His fingers trailed blindly up the tattoo spanning Next' body, raking his fingernails against it. "I like this tattoo," he murmured against Next's skin. "Piece of art permanently attached to you. Fitting."

Next chuckled quietly, stroking his fingers through Jag's hair.

"It wasn't like that, when I thought about putting it on. I just...it was something every child in Nevada does. Besides, it looks nothing like how my interior is..." A smirk tugged at the boy's lips, and he pressed his lips deeply to Jag's own, tightening his hold on the boy's hair and pulling harshly, pressing against him.

"It was just something I wanted to do."

Jag gasped, half in shock, half in delight. Next had kissed him. Next had kissed him. His last kiss had lost him one of his best friends, resulted in him leaving the football team, and started three months of moping. But Next had kissed him. He'd wanted to, wanted him.

He couldn't quite meet Next's eyes at first, overwhelmed, so he switched to the right side of the boy's neck, dragging his tongue up that section of the tattoo and ending with a little nip. "It's taking back your body," he whispered roughly. "Like we're doing now."

Were they truly taking back his body? Next didn't know. That tattoo had been his way of taking possession of it, of bringing it back to himself, but this was a better way now.

"Taking back my body?" He whispered softly as he started to lick and nibble at the boy's ear. "Or am I giving my body to someone else?"

The words weren't meant in an angry way, they were meant to show Jag what he wanted to give. Slowly, he stroked his fingers through the boy's hair again, then smirked a bit more, pushing Jag's shirt completely off of him before he started to attack the boy's shoulders and upper chest.

"Either way..." Next's voice was serious, loving, gentle, and all the things it had never been before, "...I'm...glad I'm doing it..."

Glad I'm doing this with you. He wanted to say. Glad to be giving this to you.

Whatever they were doing, whatever this thing was, he was glad to be doing it with Jag, a boy whom he'd never truly thought would be like this for him. He had never thought he would want to make love with anyone.

"I'm glad...we're doing this together." He whispered as he pressed yet another kiss to Jag's lips, though this one was nothing like the one before. That one had been heated, dangerous, desirous. This one was no less heated, no less dangerous, no less desirous, but it was slower, like burning embers getting ready to heat up further. It was the start of something, something that Next knew he would have to be ready for.

Question was, was he ready?

The answer: Yes.

Jag could feel the heat rising in his body, animal passion and emotion bleeding together until he could hardly tell the difference. He had crossed the point of being out of his depth the moment Next had whispered about giving him his body; this was the farthest he'd ever been before.

It was daunting, breathtaking--Next wanted him, was glad, and said it, out loud--he'd never thought...this wouldn't be pointless making out, some better way to pass time than studying, this was...real. It meant something.

"I'm glad too," Jag whispered roughly, before fiercely returning the kiss. This meant something. And he was so out of his depth, but then again, that was the way he liked it, wasn't it? This meant something.

Next let out a small gasp of shock, but then he pulled the boy into the kiss, dominating and taking control. It was in his genes, to love someone, to be domineering.

"This...is different...I've..." He didn't flush, but he was kissing the boy deeply now, trying to convey that he'd never done this before. In fact, those first kisses with Jag were his first kisses as well.

But he was a businessman, so he learned quickly.

Jag laughed into Next's mouth and touched his teeth down pseudo-threateningly. So they were back to playing again, were they? Neither of them may have had much experience, but they were both willing to fight for control.

He slid a foot between Next's two, leaning forward so they were flush against each other, legs overlapping. He broke from the kiss to lap at Next's jawline, moving up to his ear. Once there, though, he didn't do the expected, instead dropping his head to the boy's shoulder and biting down, raking his nails across Next's back as he did so.

They were pressed so tight, he could feel the sharp intake of breath like it was his own. He smiled, releasing Next's shoulder, and pressed a kiss to the abused flesh. His hands shifted so he was cradling Next's body to his own, and began guiding him toward the wall. If they kept going at this rate, they were going to need something to hold them up.

Next growled as he was pressed into the wall, his anger coursing through him. This was definitely not his position, and now he was going to fight against it.

With a dark growl on his lips, Next forced Jag into the wall, sticking one of his own legs between the boy's own, pressing flush against him again and kissing him deeply, then biting down as hard as he could on the boy's neck.

"You're not going to win."

Jag gasped as Next shoved him against the wall, the following bite made his eyes glaze over. His hands melted away down Next's back, like he wasn't quite aware of them anymore, then flicked up to bury themselves in Next's hair. He pulled the boy's head up for another blazing kiss.

"It'll be quite the competition though," he panted.

"Well, I've always been fond of competition." Next muttered as he started down Jag's chest, licking and nipping every bit of skin he could find. He definitely wanted the boy in front of him, there was no denying it now. He wanted him, in whatever way the boy would be willing to give. "When you're like me, you have to be..."

He knelt down and finally reached Jag's waistband, a jeweler's fingers easily undoing the belt, button, and zipper, then reaching into the opening they made, lightly touching over Jag's pelvis.

"What's the score?"

Damn that felt good. Jag's breath hitched in his chest and his eyes started to close. He wanted more than anything for Next to continue what he was doing, touching him, making it hard to think...

But there was a competition to think of.

"Well," he gasped. "I believe we each have a point." And that was a horrible pun, but he used the minor distraction it made to slide down the wall, escaping Next's hot, probing fingers. He dove forward, sending them both to the floor and connecting their mouths again, using that distraction to cup his own hand against Next's groin before Next could get back to his.

Now the advantage was his. (Although, certain parts of his anatomy would beg to differ.)

Next couldn't stop some laughter coming through when he felt Jag trying to dominate him. Though the boy might seem tougher, physically, Next hadn't learned nothing in Nevada.

With a grunt, he pushed the boy over and pinned his hands above his head, growling as he straddled the boy's waist and gave a harsh grind to his grion.

"...looks like...our points....double..." The words were said in a sultry whisper, and Next reached his hand down, starting to stroke over Jag's erection (and damn, it was getting pretty damn hard). "Hmm, you seem like you're ready for a little more than this kiddie stuff..."

Though Next had absolutely no experience in things like this, he gave a dark growl and started kissing down the boy's neck, chest stomach, to his waistline. It took him a few moments, but he was able to finally pull the other boy's pants down, giving him even more room to work with.

And if there was nothing Next loved more, it was enjoying his work.

"Hmm, time for a home run?"

'Self...fucking...ah!...control...'

Jag fought to tear his hands away from Next, to little avail. He couldn't flip them over as Next had, not with his jeans tangled halfway around his calves and his arms pinned up above his head. He bit back a pleased whimper and struggled a little more, managing to get one knee up high enough to push Next's shoulder out of the way, and he quickly shifted out from under Next. He kicked off his pants the rest of the way with one movement and surged up so he was kneeling behind Next, over him, the quick motion having twisted his hands free. One arm curled around Next's hips, fingers sliding beneath the waistband of his still-fastened jeans, something that would have to be remedied.

"I don't give away bases," he breathed hotly against the back of Next's neck. He'd known since the beginning that he wasn't going to win this, but Next was going to have to fight a lot harder before Jag conceded.

Did he honestly have a player with him this time? Next gave a smirk and pretended contrition, feigned weakness. He made a sound and lifted his hips up to crash them against Jag's, reaching his hands up to tangle through his hair...

And then he was wrapping his legs around Jag easily and pushing him onto the floor, smirking a bit when he found that Jag was laying in such a way that his hands were near the bedpost.

"Hope you don't mind a little extra fun." He murmured as he grabbed up Jag's belt, quickly looping it in such a way that Jag wouldn't be hurt, but couldn't get away.

"Hmm, that's better." He purred.

Jag just straight-out laughed, surprised. He honestly hadn't been expecting that. He could deal, though. Another challenge answered, and Next had taken control. He writhed a little in the restraints, presenting an alluring sight.

"Stolen bases, that's a point for you," he murmured huskily, eyes half-lidded and locked on Next. "You could have just kissed me senseless, it wouldn't have been difficult. Those hot lips you've got, I can practically feel them on mine, your tongue taking control of my mouth until I can't breathe or think of anything but how good it feels." His voice lowered til the words were hardly more than rumbling in his chest. "Thinking about where else I want those lips to touch me, those teeth to bite me, where I want your hands, so quick, so skilled, driving me crazy..." he trailed off into a pant, and he could see from under his eyelids how much his talk had heated up Next. He writhed again in the belt-restraint, appearing driven mad with lust.

"Please, Next," he purred. "Please drive me crazy."

Next felt his body starting to heat up, and his eyes glinted with lust and desire as he lowered his face toward Jag's own, licking his lips before kissing Jag the way he'd wanted: rough, hard, with plenty of bites and absolutely no time to breath, no time to stop any longer.

His hands trailed from Jag's shoulders downward to his chest, teasing and tweaking the boy's nipples until they were hardened peaks between his fingertips. When they were pinched well enough, the boy started to lower them down even further, over the boy's rips, down his stomach, and to his hips.

"Mmh, you want me to drive you crazy? I'll do better: I'll drive you flat-out insane." The words were whispered between those passionate kisses, and Next dug his fingernails into Jag's hipbones, slamming his own into the boy's. "How's that sound?"

Next normally wasn't a person who would do things like this. He wasn't at all sexual, and was hardly ever like this, but now...right now...

"Tell me how it sounds, Jag." He ordered in a small hiss, leaning down and starting to bite up and down the boy's neck. "Tell me..."

He continued to go down, even lower than before, his lips now touching over the boy's nipples, then to his stomach, where he licked around the boy's belly button and dipped his tongue inside. He smirked against the boy's heated skin and went down even lower, kissing over his upper pelivis, then to the boy's hips, then to just above his groin. Teasing this boy was so fun.

"...Tell me how this sounds to you." Was the last thing he said before he began to bite down on the boy's skin, making a mark, binding the two of them together for a while longer.

A heated moan escaped from Jag's throat as Next bit down the last time. Crazy, he was definitely there. Next touching him, kissing him, biting and scratching and licking, marking his skin, driving him wild.

"It sounds hot," he breathed, feeling half-strangled by his own desire. "Your body on mine, slick against mine--ohh!"

Next was panting slightly against Jag's body, but a smirk had started to make its away across his lips. Slowly, ever so slowly, he began to lick on Jag's stomach, moving lower every passing second.

"Hmm, you're already warm. Would you like me to make you burn up?" He whispered as he stroked his tongue around the boy's belly button, dipping his tongue inside. "Or would you rather just have us tangled together, crying out each other's names?"

Either one of those sounded pretty good to Next right now.

"I am burning," Jag growled softly, his voice half-catching in his throat. "I'm on fire, all of me." He moved gently in the restraints, undulating instead of writhing, his eyes half-lidded. He licked his lips, nervous and thrilled and so, so hot.

"Let me share it with you," he whispered, harshly, invitingly. "Let me catch you on fire."

Next was really warm now, and when he looked into Jag's eyes, he felt even more aroused. The boy was...well, right now, he looked nothing like he had when he'd entered his bedroom. At that time, he'd looked disheveled, but he hadn't had that dangerous and wanting glint in his eyes, and of course, he hadn't been undulating against Next's hips (which was something he would have to ask the boy to do again, because Jag really was good at it, but it wasn't just for this...)...wait a minute. Hold that thought. This wasn't just for this?

What's 'this' anyway? What could it possibly be? Next was a little confused on that thought. What were they really doing, what was really going on? Was this just for relief, or was it for something more? What could this be?

"Hmm, sounds like a good offer..." He whispered quietly as he lowered his lips even further, hovering just above Jag's thigh, then pressing a kiss to it. "But what things sound like...and what they are...Are never always the same..."

Damn, was it his voice that sounded so dark and seductive, so wanting and almost needful? Next hoped not, and at the same time, he hoped so. He wanted to know that this boy was making him feel these things.

"But I like your invitation." The brunette boy pulled back up and rested himself in such a way that he was laying completely atop Jag, reaching a hand up to undo the belt restraint. "And I agree to your offer. Let's catch each other on fire."

The moment his arms were free, Jag wrapped them around Next's back, caressing the heated skin. He leaned up to lick a trail to Next's earlobe, biting it gently before murmuring darkly, "What do you want me to do, Next?" He drew out Next's name into a sound somewhere between a heated groan and a hiss. He rolled his hips against Next's again and clutched Next closer to him.

"How will I spread the flames?"

Jag was doing a pretty good job right now, but Next knew that he wanted the boy to do more. He wanted to show his control, and at the same time, right now, he desperately wanted to lose control. He controlled every aspect of his life, and it was getting boring, and...lonely.

I want to be able to lose control. I want to lose all control. That was all Next could hear in his mind, and he knew it was what he wanted. He wanted to give up all of his control. He wanted to be controlled.

"Help me lose control." He whispered. "Make me lose control."

"Okay," Jag whispered into Next's ear, kissing it softly. "Okay." After all that, Next was giving him control over the situation. He kissed a trail back from Next's ear to his mouth, where he kissed him as deeply and passionately as he thought he could, his hands rising up to bury in Next's hair. Carefully, he rolled them over again, this time with Next's permission, and extracted his hands from Next's hair again, moving them caressingly across Next's neck to his collarbones and shoulders, his mouth following and leaving shiny kiss-marks alongside red arcs from his teeth. Reaching Jag's nipples, he laved each with his tongue and bit gently, watching Next's face for a response. He wasn't disappointed. Next's panting had gone up just a notch, and it made Jag smile. His hands continued working their way downwards, lingering over each rib. His mouth sucked at the juncture of Next's ribcage, working on making a hickey just there, like a dark flower in the very center of his torso.

Then he began moving lower, kissing and biting down Next's stomach, across his bellybutton, to the very edge of his waistband. He bit along each hipbone, growling, as his fingers worked to undo the jeans.

Once they were undone, he darted back up to press another deep kiss to Next's lips. "How are you?" he growled lowly, making the simple question sound absolutely lewd.

Next felt so much better, now that he wasn't in control. Giving up control was so much better than having control, because he could take control at any time, no matter what.

"Mmm...how do you think?" He hissed quietly, reaching out and gripping the back of Jag's neck, pulling him down so that they were eye to eye. "Hot. Horny. And desperately wanting to lose all control to you."

The last part was said in his most "submissive" voice, and he leaned up and pressed his lips hungrily and desirously to Jag's own.

"Come on, Jag. Where is your talk of making me burn? I want to feel that fire, I want it to burn me. Come on, Jag. Give me all you got."

Jag grabbed the back of Next's head and crashed their mouths together again hotly, all lips and tongue and teeth, his other hand raking its fingernails down Next's torso. So he wanted it all, huh? Not scared, no more playing gentle? Jag could do that.

Breaking free of the kiss, he sank his teeth into Next's shoulder, then released it with a growl. He lowered himself to Next's waistband again and busied himself with removing the boy's jeans. He didn't quite yank them off, rough and careless being completely different things, but as soon as the pants had slid past Next's knees, he pushed them the rest of the way off with an impatient shove and returned to working on making Next burn.

Like Next had done earlier, Jag moved his lips over Next's thighs, alternating kissing and biting with long, slow drags of his tongue over the pink marks he was making. His hands teased at Next's torso still, one playing with a stiffened nipple and the other dancing across the skin just above Next's boxers.

"Neeeext," he hissed playfully against Next's hipbone, breath hot, interspersing his sentence with bites and kisses. "Next, can you feel the flames yet? My teeth are making sparks every time they scrape your skin, your skin is so hot against my lips..." He bit down hard with another growl. "I'm yearning for you to feel it."

Next could definitely feel the burning. It was a low, appreciative sensation in his stomach, and heart, as well as where Jag was hovering over now, but the boy couldn't come up with the words to say.

"Just shut up and get on with it." He was about to say, but he was cut short, by, you guessed it, the ringing of a cell phone. His.

"Fuck."

Jag growled angrily again. He was about to take both their cell phones and throw them out. He moved up to murmur in Next's ear. "Leave it. You can call them back."

He didn't want to stop now, didn't want to have to start over, because they might not start over, and he wanted this gorgeous boy below him so badly, and the boy wanted him, and things were going so right for once. He slowly rubbed his hips against Next's, now just the thin material of two pairs of boxers between them, begging wordlessly for Next to just ignore his phone this one time, stay in this realm of pleasure, leave the business for later.

"Please," he whispered hotly. "Don't answer."

Half of Next screamed for him to answer the phone, and the other half begged him to stay with Jag. He knew that he should answer the phone, because it was probably business, and business was very important to him, but he also wanted to ignore it and kiss Jag, a desire made even more obvious when he felt his hips lift up and grind back against the boy's own.

To pick up, or not to pick up? That was his question. And he decided to answer it.

Reaching over for his pants, he grabbed out his cell phone, hit ignore, and shut the damned thing off.

"There. No more interruptions." He whispered as he threw it in under his desk, then reattatched his arms aroung Jag's neck, as well as his lips. "Nnh, come on already..."

The boy threw a playful gilnt up at Jag, his maroon eyes shining with a seductive light. "Come on, Jag. I want you. I want everything you can give me."

Jag continued the slow, provoking grind of his hips against Next's as he lowered his mouth to the boy's ear. "Everything?" It was more than he had anticipated when they began all this, forever and just a minute ago. But if Next wanted...everything...Jag would let him have it. Next meant enough.

He slid his hands back down Next's body, pinching and caressing in equal measures, keeping the boy's lips locked in a deep kiss. When he reached the waist of Next's boxers, he broke away and met Next's eyes, telling him silently he could trust Jag, could tell him to wait at any time. Then his mouth moved to Next's neck, and his fingers hooked into the edge of Next's boxers, inching them steadily down...

Next relaxed under Jag's control of him, knowing he could do anything now. He could be weak or strong, and he could tell this boy was trying to show him he could trust him.

The brunette had never been able to trust anyone before.

At the feeling of his boxers slipping down slowly, Next shot his gaze up to Jag, trying to hide his worry and fear beneath his cold, business exterior. He was scared about what was going on, scared of what he and Jag were doing...

But he definitely did not want to stop.

How can it be that I'm scared of this? I've faced rapists, the streets of Nevada, the South, and now this orphanage. Why am I scared? Next tried to beat the answers out of himself as he felt Jag's hands drag the last remaining thing he was wearing down a few inches more, trying to answer it before he did this.

Why am I scared?

Jag could feel the snap of tension in Next's body, and he paused in sliding down his final garment, changing his hands to make little circles on the currently-exposed skin between the ridges of his hipbones with his fingertips, nails scratching only lightly.

He laid a light kiss and a nip between Next's collarbones. "In giving up control," he murmured against the soft skin there, "you gain power. Over me. Over yourself. You choose to give it up. And...if you wish, if things get out of hand...you can choose to take it back. I am yours to command."

One hand slid down over Next's hip, down to the back of his leg, and he bent it slightly to stroke the skin there, his nails still a grounding soft scrape. The other hand moved slowly to touch Next over his boxers, fingers remarkably steady as he pressed down over the hardness there and massaging gently.

"Tell me," he whispered. "Tell me when."

A gasp escaped Next's lips when he felt a hand pressing against a certain part of his anatomy, but his face stayed the same color as ever. He wasn't one for blushing.

"I don't know when I'd want to stop." He admitted, leaning up and pressing a kiss to the boy's lips, trying to keep that small medium of control. "I don't know. But if this gets too far, too out of hand, I'll stop you."

With that said, Next closed his eyes and slightly tilted his head back, willingly letting Jag have complete control, willing to do whatever he wanted.

"I'll only stop you if it gets out of control. But, for now, you have full power here."

Jag nodded and ghosted a hot breath against Next's collarbone before biting down. At the same time, his hands were slipping back to grasp the elastic of Next's boxers and slide them down the rest of the way. His own body followed their descent, trailing kisses and little nips down over Next's chest, then abdomen. He paused, panting slightly, to pull the boxers off all the way, then returned his eyes to Next's face, his body. Finally he let his eyes catch on the body part begging for his attention.

And he'd never been this far before. Watching porn didn't really qualify one for this, did it. Still, he wanted this, he wanted Next. Breathing more heavily now, Jag wrapped a hand around Next's erection, loving the gasp it elicited from Next's mouth. But no, it wasn't enough, not yet. Which meant...

Jag dipped his head to press a kiss to Next's hipbone, and then without giving himself or Next a moment to think, swooped down and plunged the erect member into his mouth. His nails dug into Next's hips at the sound of the boy's cry. Perfect.

Next nearly lost control at the feeling of moist heat wrapping itself around his erection. He had never thought of this, never thought he would have wanted something like this, never thought he would ever participate in this, but he was. They were doing this right now.

The cries that left the boy were ones of pleasure and confusion, because this had never happened before, and it felt so good, but he was not in control.

Why did I give up control? I shouldn't have... Another cry escaped, and Next's hips arched up without his permission, a blush painting itself across his face in a furious way. It was almost enough to make the boy pull away, say no, but not quite. Jag had promised to let him stop when he wanted, and Next wanted to see this through to the end.

"M...more..." He begged softly, biting down on his bottom lip and digging his nails into the carpeting beneath him. "...please...more..."

Jag made a pleased sound, a groan that vibrated against the organ in his mouth. The sounds and movements of Next's reactions were all going straight to his own erection, so hard it almost hurt, and his groan only elicited more of those delicious reactions from Next.

He worked his mouth up and down, sucking and licking, and as always there was the careful scrape of teeth. As inexpert as it was, Next was certainly enjoying it. Jag actually had to hold him down to keep himself from choking. He made another sound and took a deep breath through his nose before the next thing he was about to try.

To stall, Jag reached one hand up blindly against Next's chest, pinching at a nipple before raking his nails down again. Before the gasp from that could even escape Next's mouth, Jag swallowed. Hard.

A very loud scream was elicited when Jag swallowed around his erection, and Next gripped the carpet tighter, arching his hips up so that he was completely situated in the boy's mouth.

"Nn...J-J-Jag!" Was that him who stuttered now, his words coming out between short gasps? "M-please!"

And that word, please. It had never escaped him before. What was going on?

I want more. More, please, Jag. Please... Those thoughts raced through Next's mind, but then something else came into them. If Jag was giving him this pleasure, why wasn't he giving Jag any?

With a groan of upset, Next pushed the boy's shoulders so that he was forced away from him and onto his back, then he got onto his hands and knees to crawl on top of the boy. He started to tease Jag through his pants by rubbing against the hard lump between his legs, then he pulled them and the boy's boxers down, leaning down and engulfing Jag's own erection in his mouth. The first thing he noticed was the taste of salt, something that made him want to pull away (Next had never been a fan of salty things), but he didn't. He licked up the organ in his mouth from base to tip, teasing the boy's slit with the very tip of his tongue.

Would Jag like this? Hopefully, he would. Next was very inexperienced, yes, but he could always try. And he was business-savvy...he would learn fast.

Jag was shocked into gasping in half a second. This feeling--total ecstasy, he couldn't believe what Next was doing to him. His head snapped backwards and his back arched off the carpet, hands curling into Next's hair as he moaned unrestrainedly.

"Tha--oh!! I--that feels--Next!" He could hardly breathe through the pleasure. It was almost too much, how had Next handled it?

The feeling of fingers tightening in his hair spurred Next to go even faster, and he started to take in more of the organ, until he felt it going deeper into his throat. Luckily, he had always been very good at surpressing his gag reflex.

His tongue (the same tongue that tied knots in cherry stems) licked up and down on the thick vein he knew would rest on the underside of the boy's arousal, then swallowed around it, feeling the muscles in his throat working to bring Jag pleasure, to give him something that both of them wanted.

It was almost funny, how a trip to bring Next lunch had ended up with Next wanting to devour (and actually now devouring) Jag. Must be karma. Or fate.

Whatever.

BB: I'm sorry that this cut off so randomly. Elen and I will finish it sometime very soon!!!!!!!!!!!!! WE HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!!!!!!!!! -Hugs everyone- If you like it, please review!!!!