Maybe he was surprised he got a yes. Mick's not a sexual creature, not by a long shot, but the idea that he actually got a straight man to say yes is...a bit odd. if he's being played, he wont be if he's not...Well, he has something interesting to tell Ethan.

There's a clear of his throat, and Mick knocks on Jaime's door, a bit nervous, actually. Who knows what all could happen tonight? Magic, maybe.

Jaime's just as nervous. Why did he say yes? Why did he agree? He can back out. He knows that. Oberyn always told him it was something to be enjoyed, and something he should try at least once. Maybe that's why he agreed. He's nervous, though, and unsure what to expect or who will be doing what. It isn't like he knows. He opens the door, awkwardly silent for a second before he just steps back and clears his throat. "Uh. Come in." Yup. He's nervous.

"At least you're hospitable," he's only clothed in a robe, a fine one at that. He looks tired but he seems ready to get started. "I know you agreed earlier but as always I'm a stickler for consent. So I'll need to verbally again before we get started," alright, Mick has all his ducks in a row.

He starts by...oh, getting close, not to where it's uncomfortable, so so he can look his friend up and down. "Odd, never done this with someone my height. This should be...interesting."

Jaime is dressed down, in a loose-fitting undershirt and sweatpants. He wasn't sure how to deal with this, how he should dress. Whenever he's ended up with a woman in the past, it's usually been a quick thing out of public view, once and done. This is...a bit more complicated than that.

Need for consent makes him flush as the other nears him. However, he doesn't see the need to back out now. "Yes. I'm still willing to."

"Good" the robe isn't dropped just yet, however he is making himself aware of his surroundings before he starts with anything. There's a pause, and he's debating on what to do. Should he let Jaime take the lead, or should he just do what he does with Ethan and get it sorted? Though, this will be different than Ethan, he's sure.

So he starts small, tries for a little arousal. Foreplay is important, after all, as is getting to know your new partner. A step is taken, and Mick carefully approaches, glad he doesn't have to bend down too far for once and starts with a light kiss, only moving a little deeper when he doesn't sense any hesitation from Jaime.

The kiss is...oh, it's very nice, starting slow before a little rhythm is found and Mick can part the other man's lips with his tongue. His taste is odd, but pleasurable, it makes sense why Ethan loves it so much.

Oh. This is...oh. Jaime accepts the kiss, although he's a bit startled and has to just let it happen to figure out when and how to respond. He gets it, though, and his moment of confusion melts. Tentatively, he returns it. There he goes- he's getting it now. He lets inhibitions and concerns fade to the back of his mind. His left hand moves to rest on Mick's hip now. It can't be too different in mechanics, right?

There's a bit of hesitation, but it's fading. This is...very nice.

Hell yeah it is. The hand on his hip has him laughing, pulling back a bit because he finds it hysterical. "Not much for you to grab, eh? That's the difference, mate, you gotta find other things to grab. I'm not your bloody sister."

Daaaamn, son.

"Come on," he steps back now, obviously impressed and ready to move on. He has a hand outstretched, clearly wanting to lead Jaime to the bed. Shame they're the same height, Mick would wave preferred the wall. "You want the top or the bottom? Either works for me. Whatever's comfortable."

Jaime flushes at the statement, utterly embarrassed. But Mick knows and is still working on getting him to bed, so that means it wasn't a complete turn-off, apparently. He reaches out to take the other's hand, nervous, and clearly so. The question gets hesitation. Oh. That's right. This is...very different than what he's used to. Sure, Cersei has...well, there's been some play. It kind of comes with the territory, and it was...enjoyable. Strange, at first, but she broke him into that kind of thing. He could hardly complain.

But with another man?

Well...

"...Uh." The quick-tongued Lannister is without words. Way to go, Mick.

"Come on. Don't back out on me now, Jay," ohhhh, that's accented by a grab, nothing too hard, but enough to show Jaime he means business. His robe collapses a little, revealing his tattoo on his shoulder before Mick gets to work, hands traveling back until they're reaching just under Jaime's shirt, working slow before Mick does his usual thing to distract, kissing just along Jaime's jaw until he gets to the neck. It's slow, not at an agonizing pace but enough to make anyone shudder.

"I know you're not a virgin, Jay. Help me out, yeah?" Oh, an invitation to undress the Welshman. This should be interesting.

Oh. Oh, shit. Why is he blushing so hard? The kisses make him shudder, and his hand moves to Mick's robe. He's self-conscious about his arm, hence why the replacement hand is still on his right. If it has to go, it can go. He slides the robe from Mick's shoulders, unsure why he's so mystified by this all. He isn't one, but he certainly FEELS like a virgin. And that's embarrassing.

"Sorry." Sorry? Jaime Lannister, apologizing for not knowing what to do in the bedroom?

"Don't be. You're fine. Focus, Jay, Eyes up 'ere, yeah?" His eyes go to the clunky hand, not caring about it in the slightest, but it might make things weird. "You going to take that off?" he motions to the hand, not at all bothered by it. "Might be cumbersome. Unless you want it. Just saying."

His ink isn't as extensive or as advanced as Ethan's, of course, but it's certainly...odd. He didn't know what a majority of it stood for, but it decorates him at least. His robe isn't completely off, but it's enough to get Mick to nudge Jaime back until the back of his legs hit the bed, and Mick gives a gentle push to show exactly what he wants.

If he succeeds, he's clearly making his way to take control.

"Yeah." He forces his left to move to unlace the vambrace. The hand is left sitting on a table within reach. He always feels more or less naked without it, but...that hardly matters now, does it?

And just like that, Jaime...lets him. His legs bump the bed and he takes the hint. The nudge gets him seated. All he has left are the sweatpants and nerves so frazzled it might as well be his first time again. He's never given up control completely unless Cersei made him, and the thought of doing so for someone else is a bit embarrassing, at the present moment. He'll get over that fast.

He studies the tattoos with curiosity, never having had the time to examine them on someone else's form. They are not common, where he's from. He reaches out to trace some with his thumb, other fingers curling around Mick's shoulder. It's fascinating to him.

His curiosity gets a satisfied hum from Mick, and he's clearly pleased he's being looked at. There's a gentle bite on Jaime's lip before he goes to work on undressing him, slow, enough to make anyone aggressive with how he's playing them. It takes a while, but eventually he has Jaime how he wants him, finishing off with the removal of his shirt and appraising his partner with brown eyes that seemed to have already glazed over. He got this from Ethan, obviously, but its funny to see how he's learned to take the initiative and what he does once he has it.

"You alright?" The words are low, blended with that accent of his and he's doing little more but dipping down to graze his teeth on the side of Jaime's neck. The Welshman's own hands are carding through his hair, pressing his weight against him so that Jaime leans on his back. He clearly knows what he's doing, and he waits for an answer before he moves on.

"More than." He replies with surprise at how sure he sounds, letting himself lower to the bed. His nerves have turned into anticipation now. His hair's remarkably soft and well-cared for, even though it's now short. He's a noble, after all, and a very well-known knight. He's...very nice to look at, too. Well-proportioned, very athletic. He deserves to be proud.

"I have a war to lead...try to let me be able to walk tomorrow, please." He jokes softly as a way of releasing the last of his anticipation, and then plants a few kisses on Mick's jawline. Heaven forbid word of this ever get out.

"There he is," that's the response he's been waiting for. "You've seen Ethan in battle. I'm sure you'll be fine if you limp."

Content with that, He adjusts, aiding Jaime in clamoring up the bed, not wanting to do some awkward hang there and admires what he has before him for a moment, man has a thing for the athletic, it's clear in his current choice of men.

Alright, time to get to work. deciding that prep is a very good thing to start with and doing exactly that, coaxing Jaime's leg's apart before...getting distracted, his mouth going to a knee instead, dragging his lips down his thighs until...oh. OH. Well, he's certainly changed direction on this very quickly. he doesn't taste him yet, just travels from his inner thighs to his abdomen, deciding instead to focus on that body of his. Oh dear.

Jaime is quiet, compared to Ethan, and perhaps to most. But those kisses...oh...that's a surprise. He didn't expect it, either, and the path to his core gets a soft exhale. There is not a scar on him, save for the nicks to his face and the hand. He's fantastic at what he does, and this proves it. His hand moves to thread through Mick's hair instinctively, overwhelmed by the sensations and unsure of how to react, truly. So, he decides to just...let go. His control is gone.

He wants this. He knows he does, now. It WOULD be Mick to be the first. After all that flirting, he's not surprised he eventually agreed. The thought has him feeling oddly, something words can't quite come to. But one thing is for sure- the kisses and attention are getting a very physical response.

The fingers in his hair have him moaning against Jaime's skin, slender hands trialing up and down to evoke a response before Mick's back to eye level. From there it's a quick kiss, a brush of tongue before Mick moves to his target.

He starts slow, brushing his nose against the organ first and working on keeping that erection going before he presses his lips against it. He's very familiar with this, it helps that Jaime's isn't ugly, mick's always been impartial to male genitalia. He's not a fan, to say the least.

He waits a moment, trailing up to the tip, and then he takes it in his mouth.

And there is the first real gasp of the evening. Jaime's reaction is shocked but pleased. He's warming up quickly, surprise though it might be. He's a man used to the unconventional, though. Maybe it isn't much of one.

He reactions physically more than he does vocally, which must be quite a change for Mick. He's used to sneaking things. It comes with the territory, being a night of noble blood. And extremely handsome. And rich.

He doesn't get this often. He actually can't think of the last time he did. With a whisper of an appreciative swear, his fingers tighten in Mick's hair, almost forcefully. Old habits die hard.

Ridiculously handsome. Which is why Mick was attracted in the first place. Jaime my beat him at sparring, but at least here Mick has the upper hand. Or hands. Puns.

The tightened grip gets a startled jump out of Mick, but he's focused on what he's doing, moving up and down, so far as to take him into his throat. Bless his lack of a gag reflex, it's a learned skill, you never know when you need to hide something. Or suck a noble and make him come.

Mick's hands are planted on Jaime's thighs, blunt nails digging into skin and leaving little marks when he drags down. The welts are proof the Welshman is enjoying this as well, a bit overwhelmed but none the less keeping a good pace and rhythm. He's waiting to see changes in Jaime, see when he might come, there's no chance he'd going to swallow. Disgusting. But it was his choice to do this, but it's more to see how far he can push Jaime over the edge.

It's not going to take too much, but he isn't exactly being driven slowly to drag this out, either. He's given up his concerns and he's lost in the fact that this feels amazing. Okay. Maybe he isn't straight. Just maybe. The little bite of nails digging into his thighs is welcomed, and after a while of such treatment he sharply gasps, holding his breath and squirming as he's clearly fighting to keep from going over the edge then and there. He's kind enough, though, to give a likely unnecessary warning.

"I'm close." He nearly moans it, and it's clear he's lost, at this point. "Slow down if you don't want me to come." His usual partner tends to like to prolong things. But then again, his usual partner also likes to hear him moan and beg and go without release for as long as she sees fit. He's a wreck, really.

That's enough for him. Mick pulls off, making a popping sound the instant his lips leave Jaime's cock. He loves that sound, really. He's not going slow anymore, that was to make Jaime comfortable. Now he wants him to squirm.

His hand makes a firm grasp, and he leans forward, teeth on skin and hand making furious pumps, mostly because he's tired, but also because he doesn't get any pleasure for this. He can't even orgasm with his injuries, not that he minds anymore. His fingers massage as he moves up and down the shaft, clearly pleased in what he's done here tonight.

"Come for me, Jaime. S'the only pleasure I'm gonna get tonight," oh, that sounds dark...aggressive...Mick's form of dirty talk. A bite is made on his hip, and Mick's marking his territory there, officially branding Jaime Lannister as fucked.

GOD, that's hot. Jaime moans at the bite and the words, toes curled and hand now gripping the sheets beside him. He's panting and overwhelmed to the point his mind feels like a whirlwind of colors and noises rather than thoughts and words. It doesn't take too much of Mick's aggressive movements to get the desired response. He climaxes with a moan and his shoulders arch back, lips parted as the overwhelming sensations wash over him. It's intense, and it floods his body with tingles words can't quite describe.

Talk about one hell of an orgasm. He rides it out, whatever pumps come during and after sheer torture. By the time Mick finally leaves him alone, he's a panting mess.

He's satisfied with his outcome, truly, and he shows it by wiping off a bit of mess that got on him and instead wipes it on the sheets, making a face. Okay, maybe he's more annoyed Jaime lost so much control. Either way, he did some good.

"Wos that so 'ard?" he teases, traveling up to where he was over Jaime, staring at him with dark eyes before he dipped for a peck and rolled off. Oh no, he's going to stay unless he's forced out. He makes himself comfortable, clearly not paying attention to Jaime's shattered little state. "You kept sayin' no, now look at you, Shameful, Ser Lannister. Hope you enjoyed it."

A flush of embarrassment comes over him at that statement, and the use of his title. His service to the nobles isn't supposed to include sex. This is mortifying, and far more than breaking his oaths and killing his king was. This is probably breaking oaths, too. Then again, protect and serve...It could be argued...

"I...did." A pause, but no hesitation in his word choice. He shoots his gaze away by turning his head, feeling somewhat embarrassed again. Mick's going nowhere, and that much is clear. He shifts and turns to his side after a while, settling in to rest.

Mick's on his side, already comfortable. He'll be walking out of here come morning with Jaime, wither he wants it or not. Man is smart enough not to kick him out, he is a noble as well, after all, and he's got the upper hand. There was no romance here, only a display that gave Mick the power he craves. It's the only reason he hasn't tried to take Ethan's power, he loses that craving when he can make someone do as he pleases.

The thought makes him laugh.

Sleep comes quickly, and tomorrow brings more teasing for the Lannister than he bargained for. This was a good choice.