Chapter 5

"Why, Rhysie..." Jack's tone was too sultry, or maybe Rhys had never heard him sound like that before, "I gotta say, pumpkin, this is the second time you've forced yourself on me." Thick fingers danced adroitly on his hip bones finishing with a light playful squeeze.

And oh did Rhys try his damnedest to ignore those fingers, trying to turn whatever naive wide eyed stare and boyish blush at the intimate touches into a look of pure aversion at the man's words. It seemed like eternity that they laid there, the younger man almost blanketed over his superior's body, neither making the attempt to shove the other off. Rhys could blame his lack of attempt on complete shock. Jack's excuse...well, he couldn't really say. If the man was offended Rhys would already be sporting one hell of a shiner. To his adroit it seemed to have an opposite effect, and that shit eating grin he was staring directly at was the dead giveaway.

Jack's words finally sunk in, and Rhys pursed his lips. "I...I haven't forced myself on you at all." Okay, so it was a pretty weak rebuttal. But he wasn't a pervert, dammit, and he would not stand for Handsome Jack of all people to accuse himof that.

"Hmph," a sarcastic snort, "sure. Whatever you say…." There was a pause, but Jack was obviously not finished. "I guess you can file this one away with the rest of your little fantasies, huh, sweetheart?" He added with a wink.

Rhys immediately sputtered. How did he know about...that wasn't the point. Newfound courage flooded the younger man's chest, and without thinking he pushed himself up into a sitting position and crossed his arms. He stared down at Jack, matching the smirk with a defiant glare. "My fantasies? Okay, sure. Like how my hands are wrapped around your waist? Or do I have this the other way around?" Wow. He couldn't believe he just said that. And judging by how fast Jack's eyebrows had just shot up, neither could he.

The surprise on the older man's face was short lived, and Rhys watched with diminishing gallantry as a large toothy grin nearly split his face, eyes suddenly alight with mirth. Jack's thumbs began kneading into the hollow of Rhys' hips, hands clamping down a little harder as if to hold him place. He knew he was beginning to tread into a foreign territory with Jack, which was something he wasn't technically new to, just never instigated it like he was now. The other man could entertain himself with the material he had to work with, could keep himself entertained until he had his fill. Sadly, this was never to Rhys' benefit, because the man would push, would touch, would hiss subtle nothings in his ear with that stupid handsome smirk, and in one fail swoop would unknowingly leave Rhys a befuddled, blushing, panting mess.

But the way those thumbs worked his hips, those fingers danced, the way those eyes sparkled with a challenge...who was he fooling? He had already crossed the threshold into that dangerous territory, farther now than he ever had, and he wasn't slowing down.

"So feisty all of a sudden, kitten." Jack sat up abruptly, holding Rhys in place with his iron grip and stopping when his nose brushed the thinner man's. "But you're forgetting who'ssitting in whose lap like a dirty little harlot."

Rhys' eyes narrowed, not liking the idea of what was he was suddenly compared to. He brought his hands up to balance himself on Jack's shoulders readying to push himself up. "Fine. I'll get up, if that's what you think–"

If those large hands gripped him any tighter he swore there would be bruising, and his attempt to get off the other man was stopped short when Jack dragged him back down to grind his crotch against his causing his back to arch into the hold. Those sparkling heterochromic eyes darkened into a gaze almost animalistic.

"Aw, you mad, pumpkin? Gonna run away? I'm not surprised."

Rhys' lip twitched. That selfish, blind, narrow minded sack of...after six months of toying with him and leaving him with nothing, to get so damn close, torturing him, only to back off and shut him out and do it again, and again, and…!

The hands still holding onto Jack's shoulders trembled with indignant rage, his own shoulders setting as he bristled, "You're the one always running, asshole!"

Composure was always something Rhys prided himself on, to never break down and give in to angry outbursts. But it didn't matter anymore. He'd just succumb to his own vulnerability and lashed out at Handsome Jack, and now he would be gutted and left for dead. What a wonderful way to die, he could admit to himself, to have the last breathing moments of his life calling Jack an asshole while straddling the man half nude.

Rhys' right hip was left bare, the hand holding him there now curled into his chestnut hair latching onto his scalp with brutal force. He winced, closing his eyes and clenched his teeth to prepare for the inevitable. The hand yanked his head forward, and he found his lips crushing against Jack's.

Jolts of phantom electricity played at his nerves, comminuting every sense of his being. He remained still, feeling Jack's lips dominate his, teeth gnashing together. It was draining him; Jack was draining the life out of him and he could nothing to stop him. He...didn't want to. He didn't care. He wanted more, and he got what he wanted when he felt the other man's tongue push through his teeth to invade every space in his mouth, dancing across the back of his teeth to collide with his own tongue.

Rhys practically mewled at the sensation. Fuck it, he didn't care how pathetic he sounded. If Jack's kisses could kill he'd gladly die a whimpering mess.

Jack retracted his tongue, and snarled against Rhys' lips. "You think I runfrom this?" The hand still on hip motioned him to rock against him, the friction creating a heat like no other, moving until Rhys began his own automatic pace. The grip on his scalp held him in place so the younger man couldn't pull away even if he wanted to.

"You...have no idea..." he hissed between breaths, "just who...the hell I am...do you?" His hand lowered to the nape of Rhys' neck, pushing the man impossibly closer to deepen the kiss. When the young adviser didn't answer Jack sucked his lip between his teeth and bit down, forcing a yelp out of him.

"Well?"

"Nngh...hah, y-you're...H-Handsome Jack." Rhy moaned, breaking the kiss to pull his wounded lip back and nurse it with his tongue.

"You're damn right." Jack growled, slightly panting. His eyes were feral, looking hungrily over Rhys' disheveled appearance with a smug smirk. His hips jutted up and into the younger man's, smirk growing when the action earned him an exasperated moan. He moved his hand from Rhys's neck to grab his jaw roughly, forcing him to keep his half lidded eyes locked onto his.

"And Handsome Jack doesn't run, baby boy. He merely..." his eyes dropped to stare at the lips he had just attacked viciously, "doesn't want to break his pretty little kitten."

There was a pause, then a low chuckle that Rhys felt creep up his spine. "Unless you want him to?"

God, Jack talked way to much, and the third person speech was getting on his already frazzled nerves. There was only one way to shut Jack the fuck up. His hands left the broad shoulders to thrust them underneath Jack's many layers of clothing, both metal and flesh fingers clawing up the bumps and grooves of muscle. He bit his lip and gave the bigger man the most neediest look he could muster.

"Shut up and break me, Jack."

In seconds he was on his back against the cold ground, Jack between his legs and hovering inches above him, the biggest, most lecherous grin he'd ever seen the man wear. "If you insist." And dipped his head to plant his lips onto Rhys'.

Time seemed to skip like a damaged roll of film then, because the next thing Rhys knew Jack was standing up on his knees before him, impatient fingers tugging the man's pants and boxers down his thighs in one swift go. His shoes were gone at this point, somewhere he didn't give two shits about, socked feet digging into the dirt. The chilly air stung his swollen dick and he hissed, when he had gotten so hard so fast he couldn't say. He was too busy staring at the large bulge in Jack's pants to worry about his own erection.

His flesh hand had a mind of it's own, lifting up to grasp clumsily for the rim of Jack's pants, fingers clenching around the belt and tugging impatiently, giving him a flustered look of I want it now, dammit. Seeing this, Jack smirked, and God,was it the sexiest smirk Rhys had ever seen.

"All in good time, baby." He chuckled, grabbing Rhys's hand by the wrist and pinned it firmly next to his head, leaning down to give him a chaste kiss, trailing it down his chin to plant small ones down the line of his jaw, his neck, stopping to nibble on the protrusion of the younger man's collarbone. Rhys gasped, bucking his hips upward to grind into Jacks. This was...amazing. He couldn't believe this was happening. In his fantasies they were in Jack's penthouse on luxurious satin sheets with the glow of Elpis the only light on them, or in the CEO's office bent over his massive desk as Jack pumped mercilessly into him.

Fucking on the cold dirt floor in some random cave somewhere in the Pandoran desert? Well, he could live with that too.

Jack had managed to reach his bellybutton by the time Rhys came out of his thoughts, and lifted his head to see what the man was doing.

"J-Jack, what are you—ahh!" Okay, wow, he just realized something about himself; his bellybutton was reallysensitive, so when Jack stuck his tongue in and swirled, he almost lost it. He slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the whimper, and yelped when his hand was harshly ripped away. He looked down to see Jack glaring at him.

"Don't. I want to hear you."

Rhys nodded numbly, and watched as Jack bit down on the soft flesh next to his navel, sucking on the skin and drawing out a long moan. When Jack stopped biting he drove his tongue into the thinner man's navel again, sending a ripple of shivers up his body.

"Ahn! J-Jack! F-Fuck!"

"Language, sweetheart." Jack chuckled softly, crawling back up the lithe body beneath him, hovering so close above Rhys the heat of their bodies mingled. But it wasn't enough, dammit. He wanted more. He needed it. His arms shot up and wrapped around Jack's broad torso, fingers digging into his shoulder blades and lifted himself into the bigger man, chest against chest, lips connecting harshly, hungrily, as if it would be last meal he'd ever have.

The only sound he could hear over the sloppy smacking of their starved lips was the sound of Jack fumbling with his belt buckle between them, once getting the buckle undone he whipped the belt through his loops with an inhuman speed Rhys would have to inquire about later, too consumed with the smug realization that Jack's movements were hasty with an underlying hint of desperation. Good, Rhys thought rather conceitedly, that the big bastard would be just as deprived of this from his own antics of constantly toying with Rhys for months. Served him right–

Hot, thick, muscled flesh rubbed against his dick, erupting a startled moan from Rhys's mouth, tearing away from Jack's mouth to bury his face into his neck. Eyes momentarily rolling back in his own head when the mixture of Jack's cock grinding against his own, the scent of musk and sweat heavy in his nose, shit it was too much. Blunt fingertips dragged down the bigger torso above him, shaky with the overwhelming need for more.

"Mm, you make the best sounds, kitten," Jack moaned roughly against his ear, lips playing at the port in his temple driving him wild. "Can't wait to hear what you sound like when I'm deep in that ass."

"J-Jack...please..." Come the fuck on and just do it, was the unsaid plead between them. If the man kept this up, Rhys didn't think he could hold on anymore.

He was too wasted on the pleasure to make sense of two fingers being inserted into his open panting mouth. "Suck, baby." Was the whispered command in his ear, and without complaint Rhys did as he was told, swirling his tongue around the fingers, lapping at them hungrily.

The fingers were removed soon after with a wet pop, and before Rhys could collect himself he felt his legs get lifted up and spread wide, one large hand gripping his right thigh, the other hand ghosting over his ass. One wet finger played around the tight muscle agonizingly before pushing in, stretching him. Rhys let out a whined cry, hips jerking and grinding into Jack's, unable to keep his body from squirming.

"J...Jack...ah…!"

"Just relax. That's it, pumpkin. Just a little more." Jack coaxed softly, almost comforting.

After a brief minute another finger was inserted, scissoring him, working in, and out, methodically pumping into him. Rhys opened his mouth to a silent scream. God, the man was driving him nuts with only his fingers.

"Hah, Jack…" this was dangerous, he was going to come if Jack didn't stop. He could feel the buildup, skin prickling with euphoria too much to make sense of anything else other than this own growing orgasm. No, he didn't want to come being fucked by Jack's fingers. He wanted him,all of him. Inside him. Now!

"For...the love of...Jack...please! Just fuck me already!" Rhys growled, his pout more like a halfhearted snarl. Seeing him such a state Jack paused his movements and just stared down at him, eyes wild and feral as if something just suddenly snapped within him. It would have been almost terrifying if this was any other circumstance.

"Damn I'm gonna enjoy wrecking your sweet ass, baby boy." He hissed between parted lips, and it was last words Rhys could grasp before Jack turned into a goddamn animal.

In one fluid motion Rhys was flipped onto his stomach with little time to steady himself on shaky elbows. A crushing grip on his hips soon followed, bringing his ass up high in the air, holding him firm as he felt Jack's lengthy cock fit snugly between his cheeks, spreading the saliva and precum over the tip of his cock.

Rhys shivered, dipping his head down and tucked it into the crook of his robotic arm, the burning heat of his flushed skin practically sizzling against the cool metal. He felt a large hand plant itself in the middle of his back, forcing him into an arch gently.

"Relax, sweetheart." And with that, he felt the tip of Jack's dick sink in, the girth stretching him out. The pain struck him first, causing him to instinctively jerk away, but the hand on his back kept him still, fingers squeezing in a comforting manner. Jack inched in with each slow thrust, the pain bringing tears to Rhys' eyes.

But the pleasure riding off the pain was enough to stomach through it. He wouldn't call it quits now, God no, he had been waiting for this for so long, had fantasized about this since he was a grad student. Jack was slowly filling him up, full attention on him, no one else. It was Rhys underneath the powerful man, no one else.

"Uh, fuck, Rhys." An impatient jerk sent Rhys in a world of stars and colorful dots, and he arched up with an exasperated shout.

It was his nameon Handsome Jack's lips, no one else.

And Rhys loved it.

"Jack." Rhys thrusted himself back into the rest of Jack's cock, completely filling him, because fuck the pain he just wanted all of Jack. Every damn bit of the man.

The Hyperion ruler let out a feral moan, landing a harsh slap on Rhys' ass, a moment of lost conscious thought or in appreciation he'll never know, didn't care to.

Their sex turned primal then, Jack losing his composure to thrust wildly into the other man, Rhys taking it all with panting cries of nonsense. Hands bruising, nails digging into soft flesh, skin slapping skin, bodies rocking wildly. The rough ground rubbed his knees and elbows raw, but he felt nothing but Jack hitting that spot that drove screams from his throat.

"You sound so good, kitten…." he could faintly hear the sweet nothings of Jack's voice through his pleasure, keeping him from completely losing it, but driving him closer all the same. "...Shit...never thought...you'd feel so...damn...tight."

Rhys was so close, his orgasm so close his body for readying for it, tightening around Jack's cock, back almost bending in half as one wave of ecstasy crashed into him after another. He was drowning in it.

The drowning felt real when a strong arm wrapped around him to grab his chest, lifting him with such weightless force it knocked the breath from him. He was on his knees, hands fumbling for balance and shakily clutched the forearm fastened around his chest, his back against Jack's chest, the man's sweat slicked forehead resting against the crook of his neck. Rhys dipped his own head back to let it fall on the older man's shoulder.

"Fuck I'm close." He felt the words tremble on his neck, driving his own orgasm that much closer. His own dick had been bobbing against his stomach with each thrust, suddenly coming to a halt when Jack snaked a hand down his stomach, his pelvis, to grab him and stroke with wild abandonment.

"Ahh! Jack, Jack," the man's name was a pure melody on his tongue, "Jack...I'm gonna...gonna cum…!"

He couldn't even get the rest of the nonsense out of his mouth before it hit him, blinding him, crawling up his nerves and prickling his skin. He came screaming Jack's name, hot sticky cum splashing across his stomach. He thought he head peaked then, but a sudden snarl in his ear ripped him from his finish as teeth clamped down onto his neck thrusting him back into that world of pure bliss.

After a few more thrusts both men went still, and Rhys allowed himself to finally go limp against the bigger body still holding him protectively, letting the arm still wrapped around him keep him upright. When the arm finally let go of him it took the remainder of his strength not to fall back to the hard ground, and he slumped forward slowly, whimpering when Jack's dick slid out of him as he went down, laying on his side not caring one bit about the dirt that would cling to his sweaty skin.

Rhys' entire world was hazy, nothing making sense or registering properly. He just kept blinking wearily, gulping the air back into his lungs, the aches and pains starting to slowly creep back into his worn body with the immense wave of exhaustion.

He could hear movement behind him, panting, shuffling, clothing being readjusted, the clicks and snaps of a belt being fastened, and lastly a hoarse chuckle.

"Damn, pumpkin. I don't even know where to begin…."

There was no strength left in Rhys to reply, preferring to just lay boneless. The other man must have noticed this, and he crouched beside him, brushing a hand over Rhys' sweaty forehead to wipe the damp bangs from his half lidded eyes.

"Hey, Rhysie, you still with me, babe? C'mon, I didn't screw you completely brainless, did I?"

Despite the overwhelming tiredness, Rhys turned his head slightly and regarded Jack with a slight smile. "Kinda did…." The remark earned him a genuine laugh, deep and real and warm. It sounded nice. He'd like to hear that laugh more often.

Hands slipped under him and hooked underneath his shoulders and his knees, careful not to apply too much pressure to his injured ribs, and lifted Rhys up and into strong arms, tucking him against a broad chest. If he had any energy left he'd protest, telling Jack he'd be fine to get up on his own, that all he needed was a breather and he'd be good to drag himself up. But...to hell with it. If Jack wanted to carry him like a new fucked bride, so be it.

Soft lips pressed gently against his forehead between his brows, momentarily surprising Rhys at how affectionate the act was.

"You did good, kiddo." Jack whispered against his skin. "Tough little kitten. Get some sleep, we gotta get up early tomorrow, make up for lost time." He was carried back to the fire and laid gently between the warmth of the flames and the security of the cave wall. His pants were tugged back up his hips, something heavy, warm, and leathery fell on his bare torso. He made a mental note to thank Jack for the courtesy of fixing his clothing later.

Through heavy eyelids he watched Jack turn and walk away, toward the cave exit. He wanted to inquire where the man was going, if he'd be right back, if he'd get any rest too and if he did, maybe...would he lay next to him?

Darkness overcame him then, washing away all of the questions and pulling him into a deep sleep.