thecapitol | Still Coming Out of Your Mother Upside Down [Closed]

Entry tags:

Still Coming Out of Your Mother Upside Down [Closed]

WHO| JSwann Derulo
WHAT| Jason and Swann plot Joel's demise; Swann brings Jason home to daddy
WHEN| After IC inbox thread; later in the week.
WHERE| D8 Suite; Swann's place
WARNINGS| Typical Jason Compson awfulness. About forty tags after CakeGate, smut happens.

I.

He can feel his pulse in his neck. One as acquainted with rage as Jason comes to appreciate the different gradients of it, the difference between the blinding, maddened and desperate fury that drove him up here after the argument with Leo to the territorial concern that brings him up now. He takes the stairs instead of the elevator, since it's only one floor, and when he gets up to the eighth he tucks his phone into his workbag.

"Swann?" He takes a step into the Suite, finds her about as upset and fuming from the encounter with Joel as he figured. "Let's take a drive and figure out what to do."

It isn't the barked order he gave last time, just a steady, stern, reasonable voice.

II.

It's not that Jason's nervous about meeting Swann's father because he anticipates any great blow to his esteem; he's simply chainsmoking his way over to her place because he knows that anything less than a success will send her into another of her self-indulgent spirals of candy-bingeing and weeping. She never reminds him more of his mother than then, and it tends to kill any chemistry between them, make Jason spend more nights just going straight home after dropping her off, and that in turns fuels the decline. It's only when she decides to get peppy again that they return to normal, because God knows Jason is never the one to proactively try to improve things.

He's wearing the one suit he owns that didn't come from Swann and still looks respectable, a little outdated, but Swann told him over text message that Ilar wouldn't mind, that he would just be happy for company. He's had his car cleaned and detailed even though he knows Ilar won't see it, but it's a sort of psychological preen that turns his usual strident attitude into one more closely approaching confidence. He waits outside, smoking his camphor and leaning against the hood of the car.

waiting in lot. come on down, he texts.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Think of it this way, Swann: Caroline's old and will die soon!

He sighs, ghosting his fingernails over her shoulderblades then stroking her tangled half-dried hair again. "I wouldn't ever leave if I could."

And it's true. Swann's bed is the place he could come to die, to end all future interactions and bury the past ones and simply exist until he exists no more. It is the ground which he seeks to return to.

Goosebumps rise on her skin in the wake of his fingernails and she exhales hard, relaxing some as she lets her own hand snake lower on his stomach, dipping below where his towel is tied.

"When we go on vacation, we can sleep in as late as we want," she says quietly. "And we'll stay in bed until the afternoon."

"Alright." Swann's arms are the moratorium on the nagging obligations that drag Jason through each day. He suddenly takes in breath, somehow surprised at her daring even though he should well have known that that was where her hand was going. The gasp turns into a bit of a pleased noise.

"You have the energy for that tonight?"

She doesn't intend to be pushy if he's not up for it (no pun intended), but he's not actively batting her away, and that's good enough for the moment. Stretching a bit, Swann nuzzles into the side of his neck, sighing as she pushes his towel away with her wrist.

"We don't have to, if you're too tired."

"If I am too tired, will you take it personally?" He's aware on some level that sex is her way of repairing the bond between them as much as spending money on her is for him. He rests his hand on her lower back.

"Tomorrow morning. Before work. We'll start the day off right."

"No. It's okay." She's pretty tired herself, so for once, she really doesn't find any offense in it. Honestly, she doesn't know that she'd have the energy to be offended anyway. She lets her hand just rest on his stomach now, resisting the urge to just sprawl out over him if they aren't going to have sex.

"Promise?"

"Promise. I haven't ever broken my word to you, have I?" He cranes his neck and kisses her forehead. "Come on, let's get under the blankets. I don't want you getting cold."

And they can settle into what has become their tradition two or three nights a week, her sprawled over him, his arm around her, the blankets about their waists, her snores leading him lantern-like into oblivion.

The alarms go off at the normal time, phones and the bedside clock, when it's still mostly dark outside and very few people have any kind of reason to be awake. The bedroom is a dim sort of blue, created by a sky that's only just beginning to see any light, and Swann hates this time of day because it's always the best time to close your eyes again and nod back off.

She grumbles and reaches blindly for the clock and her phone on the nightstand, managing to turn them off after only a moment of useless groping. With a yawn, she sits up and stretches before rubbing at her eyes, legs folded neatly underneath herself.

"Jason, 's morning," she mumbles, yawning again and scratching her head.

Jason, too, hates this time of day. Waking up requires a sort of subconscious orientation, a re-initiation into all of the things he hates about his life, into that long list of complaints that seems without cessation or counterpoint. He groans, facedown in the pillow, before forcing himself to sit up.

That he's with Swann, in her pink, frilly room, and not back home eases the edge off his morning ritual of regretting being alive. He rubs his hands over his face and then wraps his arms around her waist from behind.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Okay," she says, leaning back against him and draping her arms over his, hands wrapped around his forearms as far as they'll go. "I could still stand another few hours, but that's every morning."

Letting her head fall back onto Jason's shoulder, Swann arches a little to stretch her back, and sighs, making a soft noise directly after. "You?"

"Like the dead." He kisses the side of her head, rocking her, taking in the honest scent of her without perfume, just that distinct smell of her skin. He sleeps so much better in a bed with her, as if some subconscious part of him finds an unoccupied bed detestable.

"Remember what I promised last night?"

Even without perfume, Swann manages to smell vaguely sweet all the time, as if you stuck your nose in a bag of sugar and inhaled. Nothing heavy or even particularly specific, but just that hint of almost pure cotton candy sweetness, emanating from her skin, mixed with other human smells and the scent of the Capitol's water, lightly floral.

"Mm-hmm." One arm comes up to wrap backward around his neck, and she opens her eyes a little bit to look at him. "You're in charge."

"We don't have all that long." He'll have to be efficient with his foreplay; thankfully, the fact that it's morning has already left him somewhat tumescent. He kisses behind her ear, licking slightly, leaving a cool mark to the air as he reaches his arm over her and strokes her nipple with his thumb. His other hand snakes down between her legs, two fingers exploring.

"We can be a little late." All of Swann's Tributes and most of Jason's are still in the Arena, giving them some wiggle room for scheduling. But anything else she might be inclined to say gets swallowed down when she sighs, one knee sliding over to make room and her own hand dropping into his lap to help him along, pleased that she's not starting from scratch on that front.

It's relaxing this time even as they're revving up, the headiness of morning making their actions slow and smooth. He kisses her neck again, suckles slightly, not enough to leave a mark, breaking that contact occasionally to make pleased sounds as she runs her hand up and down. He moves his hand down from her breast and uses both hands, wrapped around her waist and both exploring the open workspace between her legs, stroking and teasing and finding her wet enough to make it easy.

Her fingers thread in the hair at the nape of his neck as she squirms a bit, hips pushing towards his hands even as she's sort of sinking into the softness of her own bed. Her toes curl as she squeezes a little and then lets go to lick her palm before going back to him, every move she makes punctuated with little breathy noises that escape when she bites her lip or furrows her brow.

One finger reaches in and curls, searching for that sensitive place just out of reach, while his other hand finds her clitoris and massages it in little circles. He moans, up against her neck, chin shaking slightly as if the pleasure is as delicate as it is overpowering. He presses forward with his hips against her hand, body asking for more pressure, more friction.

Swann gasps and squeaks when he finds what he's looking for, and her breathing immediately speeds up, both hands unintentionally tightening, the one in his lap speeding up. "Jason," she whispers, then moans a little, not finishing her thought as he overstimulates her just slightly, making her shudder and lean forward, teeth pressing back into her lip. She lets go of him to hold herself up on the bed, moving in time with his fingers.

"Say my name," he says, more against her skin than into the air. "I want to hear it again."

Because he is hers and she is his. He is jealous, covetous. He pulls her closer to his lap, rubbing against her back as a way to keep his own pressure at bay for a moment, as he holds back for a second with his fingers and then returns to her, smoother, softer than before, letting her control the pace with her hips.

She groans to be moved, to have him change the rhythm, and it's only instinct to push harder against his hand, trying to make him go harder, faster, the opposite, even when he won't. Because he's in charge and she is just desperately swimming against his tide.

"Jason, fuck, Jason..."

With her encouragement, he goes faster, harder again, pressing with almost violent friction against and inside her. He bites at her shoulder, not hard, but almost to ground her, breathing heavy between his teeth, trying to bring her over the edge in ways that no one before ever did to her.

When he bites her, she hisses, just air escaping her, and she's falling more and more forward, until she can rest her forehead on the bed, caught helpless by the force of his hands on her. She squeaks and moans and swears her way through her back jerking involuntarily, but presses her face into the duvet when she cries out. It's wordless and muffled and fevered, and she shudders violently for a moment before going limp, leaving his hand soaking and dripping down to leave a spot on the bed.

He groans too, not from pleasure this time but from a sort of triumph. His wet fingers trace over her stomach and lower back before returning to his own body and taking back up where she left off.

"Good?" he purrs.

"Uh-huh," she sighs, but then seems to sort of snap back into reality, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Oh, no... no no no, Jason..."

She flails her way toward the bedside table and comes back with a condom in one hand and her other outstretched to bat his hand away from himself. Still a bit shaky, she rises on her knees and grabs his face to kiss him as she opens the packet and rolls the latex down, which, in true Capitol fashion, has been printed with an elaborate and beautiful design, because it is very important that one's penis be as pretty as possible.

Swann does not look at it. Instead, once she finishes, biting Jason's lip as she pulls away, she's back down on her hands and knees, back arched as she looks at him over her shoulder again.

A hoarse, animal noise rises up out of his gut when she kisses him, smearing its way across her mouth. His eyes are closed in a sort of bliss when she breaks from him, and that sound comes again as he sees the sight she's presenting him with. Guiding himself with one hand, he works his way into her, gripping her thigh with the other.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject