buenpastor | Post-canon PSL

Post-canon PSL

[ it's been over a year since the rances, months now since the vatican officially sanctioned tomas as an exorcist, twelve days since they— because it's they, even if marcus isn't officially working for the church. twelve days since bennett sent them to vienna, to see to a young man named jakob who'd been hearing voices.

marcus had warned tomas about the dangers of complacency, and tomas understood why now; they'd done two exorcisms since casey, and they'd both been simple in comparison. the demons hadn't taken tomas seriously.

this recent one had. there's a learning curve to becoming a good exorcist, or so marcus kept saying, and he'd let tomas fight the demon up until it became a danger to the host, then he'd stepped in.

god likes it better when they work together; the words flow more easily, their voices join in as one. tomas knows he can be strong on his own. with marcus he feels unbeatable.

they have a room in jakob's house, it's a single bed and a bathroom that have seen very little use since their arrival. when jakob's eyes clear up and his voice is his own again, after niceties are exchanged; thank yous, a doctor is called, the family reassured. tomas and marcus go to that little room and close the door behind them.

once they call bennett he'll have them on a plane outside the country within hours, but it's late and they can afford a few hours to take a breather. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Don’t fuss.

[ he reaches between them to touch him again, rough pulls of his cock to keep him focused. it’s easy to feel over the latex, too much.

then he reaches over for the lube. possibly he has Plans, idk. is marcus a good person we just don’t know ]

[ he stills at the touch, and moans again. he's not used to wearing condoms and is hilariously finding the lack of skin to skin contact somewhat frustrating. ]

[ he uncaps the bottle, wets his fingers. he leans down to press a hot wet kiss to tomas’ jaw in the process, then down the column of his throat; then he settles comfortably between tomas’ legs, easing them apart like he did before. ]

I should blindfold you too next time. Bet you’d like it.

[ he's not so sure he would, he can barely handles this as it is. his grabs at the fabric and his toes curl in anticipation, his breathing fast and shallow. ]

[ he just smiles, a funny twist to his mouth like he can’t help it.

they’ve done this before at least a few times since that night, marcus using his hands carefully to open him up, get him ready for something that won’t be coming for at least a few more days. tonight’s just a continuation of that heady journey, marcus’ hand between his thighs and a single finger teasing its way inside. the only difference now is that he’s barely touching him anywhere else, that they’re in someone else’s house; and the gag around tomas’ mouth, keeping in any stray soft cries. ]

[ tomas does his best to keep still, but it's a struggle when marcus is going so deliberately slowly. the times they've done this has left him almost whimpering, every nerve on his body on edge.

he spreads his legs further, trying to get marcus to do more, he's talking too, not that it makes any sense with the sound muffled, but there's definitely some cursing there. ]

[ marcus doesn’t even bother listening in to make sense of the noise. he’s focused on his work, just one finger inside him still, stroking inside him carefully and delicately like he’s something precious that marcus just so happens to want to ruin. ]

[ that's how bad people think, marcus.

tomas only doesn't kick him because he's very good at self-restraint, but his entire body is twitching, muscles clenched around marcus' finger. ]

[ that’s us catholics, super good at self-restraint.

he waits until it’s clear that tomas has adjusted, until his grimace is less discomfort and more impatience. he leans down and uses his other hand to steady tomas by the hip, taking the opportunity to kiss his throat again as a second finger pushes in to join the first. ]

[ he's still making frustrated noises, straining the fabric around his wrists as far as they'll go. he relaxes a when marcus touches him, and pushes his hips up at the second finger, biting hard at the gag.

he hadn't thought this through, he wants to touch marcus back, kiss him, maybe punch him too. he deserves it. ]

[ usually when they’ve done this marcus has been touching him, or has his mouth wrapped around tomas’ cock.

this time is different. maybe there’s something about the aesthetic of tomas spread out on the bed that’s getting to him. possibly this is marcus’ christmas present to himself. he’s not even touching tomas’ cock; he’s just leaning over, close enough to keep him warmer than the air temperature of the room would normally allow. and his two fingers spread gently and start to move, slow and aching. ]

[ marcus can probably pinpoint the exact moment when tomas stops thinking and gives into the pleasure completely. his back arches into marcus' touch, pushing himself up on the balls of his feet, legs spread, hips raise, meeting marcus' fingers as best as he can, wanting more.

he's close, he can feel the climax building, marcus can too, surely. ]

[ it’s a gratifying moment when tomas starts to give into it. there wasn’t going to be an alternative anyway--there’s not much else to focus on, with the lights dim and the fabric unrelenting, and the only point of contact between them the thrust of marcus’ hand against his ass. the sight of his spread legs, the blood running hot in his skin, it’s all so good, a picture straight out of a porn film.

marcus’ clothes feel hot, a cooling sweat on the back of his own neck, and he’s been hard this whole time. it hardly matters. his fingers inside tomas are moving so deliberately, an expert finger fuck. he can tell when tomas is close. he’s already memorized the signs. ]

[ he's moaning loud enough for marcus to hear him even through the gag, and he's doing his best to meet his thrusts, rocking his hips as marcus moves.

he will probably have a small meltdown later, tbh. this is Too Much. ]

[ it’s not my fault you’re a disaster boo

he’s not letting up. he’s not even going to say anything, even though around this time usually he’s encouraging tomas with the use of his name, with cloying words, telling him all the filthy things he’s going to do to him. he just keeps working his fingers against tomas’ prostate, hard and coaxing all at once. ]

[ the silence bothers him, he has grown used to marcus' encouragement. he will come all the same, it'll just take him a little longer.

he's being noisy until he gets there, though, trying to demand marcus pay attention to him. ]

[ look he spends every minute paying attention to tomas, and this is no exception, it’s just. different. marcus is just watching him, like it’s the best damn show he’s ever laid eyes on, like it threatens to take his breath away.

after a moment, and without his fingers pausing in their ruthless ministrations, his clean hand comes up. his fingers skirt up the curve of his throat, and then they slide gently over the side of tomas’ face, partly into his hair.

it’s a tender gesture. marcus has so many of them, where tomas is concerned. he’s never been this ensnared. ]

[ tomas' eyes are on him, both pleading and adoring at once. and a moment later he's coming, pushing back against his fingers, still pulling at the fabric around his wrists.

he closes his eyes only for a moment, and when he opens them again there are tears in them. ]

That’s it.

[ his voice is soothing, the pace of his fingers thrusting inside tomas slowing to something sweet and glacial. his hand on the side of tomas’ face is easy to lean into, the side of his palm coming up delicately against the corner of one eye. ]

Well done.

[ tomas leans against him as much as he can, he starts trembling as his muscles relax. he whines softly with each thrust of marcus' fingers, but the sounds are still muffled by the gag. ]

[ marcus lets his hand slow to a full stop, slipping it free of him at last. he gives his thigh a kind of soothing pet. then he’s reaching up to take the condom off first, tying it off; he’s pulling the gag loose, the wrist bindings.

he leans down with full hands to give tomas a brief kiss. it feels approving, if anything. then he rises to discard the mess discreetly. he intends to be quick about it--he knows tomas shouldn’t really be left alone. ]

[ he's okay, he thinks. a little out of it, he rubs at his wrists, his eyes following marcus, and then the second marcus disappears behind the bathroom door he's overwhelmed with intense and quickly increasing panic. ]

Marcus?

[ he tries to keep it down, ad his throat is raw anyway so it probably comes out sounding relatively calm. ]

One second.

[ everything believably binned now, marcus steps out of the bathroom and immediately heads back to the bed, sliding one knee onto it and reaching for tomas’ face.

he’s smiling, a little. ]

Hey.

[ he doesn't say anything, just hugs him, still shivering. ]

[ he slides back onto the bed fully, pulling tomas close to him and leaning their heads together. ]

You’re alright, you’re alright.

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