Everything is a shaky, shaky blur.

It's a mercy when Hakuei comes home, interrupting the full, day-long torment that Gyokuen has decided is just so enjoyable. Kouen does nothing to stop it (in fact, he had walked out, leaving Judal with the witch he calls a step-mother), and Koumei and Kouha's protests are minimal if not nonexistent. With Kougyoku off at school, Judal has never felt quite so trapped, quite so stupidly, pathetically alone, but there's no use in saying that, not when this family-this fucked up goddamn family-are the only people to ever particularly care for him, and now, the only ones content to feed this particular problem.

It feels like a bad case of the flu at best. God, but he's grateful for the distraction of Hakuei, allowing him that much of a chance to sneak out, insisting through his unhappy little shivers that their driver take him to Sinbad's apartment right now and yes, he remembers the address-sort of. Mostly. Even if he's only been there once before, over a month ago.

His memory is good enough to find himself to the man's door eventually, and no matter the heated halls, nothing quite makes him stop feeling too-cold or too-hot all at once, wrapped up tightly in his coat. Flopping against the door is an acceptable form of knocking, isn't it?

Sinbad stands up slowly from the table, eyeing the door. The threats have been coming fast and thick lately, legal ones and illegal ones, and he's mostly been content to let that reassure him that he's making headway.

But if they've started coming to his apartment….

That doesn't exactly sound like a knock, but it doesn't exactly sound like a threat, either. Sinbad wavers, but leaves his handgun in the safe, walking slowly to the door and opening it.

Instantly, he's glad he had. "Judal?" he asks, ignoring all rules of propriety and reaching immediately for the kid, laying a hand on his forehead. "Jesus, kid, you're burning up, come in. How long were you out in the cold?"

Judal blinks up at him with too-wide eyes, flinching at the touch before deciding that leaning into it is better. "Not too long," he murmurs, sniffling as he butts his head against Sinbad's hand. "Ah, you don't feel like a furnace this time. That's weird. Can I… lay down or something?"

"Sure, of course you can." Sinbad wraps an arm around him, casting a suspicious glance down the hallway before urging him inside. "Chills too, or just fever? Are you achy, upset stomach anything like that? I've got medicine for almost anything you could think of in the bathroom, just in case. Here, up you go." He hefts Judal easily onto the bed, removing the coat and replacing it with a large soft blanket.

"Everything hurts," Judal unhelpfully supplies, shivering hard even as he curls himself up into the blanket, knees pull to his chest rather than actually lying down. His skin prickles, and ah, getting off of his feet almost makes the urge to throw up a dozen times worse. Not in Sinbad's bed, anywhere but here. "Hate her," he bemoans disjointedly, huddling into a tiny ball.

"Her?" Sinbad runs a hand down Judal's hair, ignoring the fact that it comes away sweaty. Mentally he runs through a checklist of everything Judal probably has, and curses inwardly at Kouen. "Hey, kid, let me see your arm."

Judal makes an unhappy, grumbling sound, far more like a complaining cat than a teenaged boy, and flops to the side, avoiding Sinbad as he curls up. "Jus' leave me here to diiiie."

"You're not going to die." Sinbad hands him a glass of water from the bedside table, laying a hand on one flushed cheek. "How long?"

"Long?" It doesn't quite click for a moment, not when Sinbad's hand feels sort of nice against his skin-at least, for a bit, until that feels too-hot and Judal shivers, wriggling away. "Don't remember. A day? Hate her so much, and En wouldn't do anything." He eyeballs the glass of water as if it's going to eat him. "Last time I drank things, I threw up."

"You're detoxing. You're going to throw up a lot." Sinbad eyeballs the kid, sitting back against the headboard and folding his arms across his chest. "What do you want to do? You've got options. You can stay here if you want, or I can get you into a clinic. I know some really good ones."

Now that really doesn't click. "… You're mad at me," is the eventual, sort of confused conclusion, and suddenly, the fact Hakuei came home is a really awful thing. Gyokuen had been so close to finally giving it to him-he'd been good for her all day, done everything she'd asked, and he deserved that reward. "But I was really good, can't I just-just have something? En keeps it everywhere, there's no way you don't have anything-"

Sinbad leans down, gives him a kiss on the cheek. Not his fault, young and pretty and falling into Kouen's clutches at this age. And not your job to fix, Sin, says Ja'far's voice of reason in his head. "Not mad at you," he reassures Judal. "I just thought you came here because you wanted to get off it. I have some stuff I can give you, if that's what you want."

"I hate her and I missed you," Judal fairly whines, ignoring the lurch of his stomach when he tries to roll closer, ending up more tangled in his blanket when he grabs at Sinbad. "If you want me to do something for it, I will-just-please-"

"You don't have to do anything." Sinbad sets Judal firmly onto his back, straightening out the blankets. "We'll talk when you get your head on straight, okay? I've got some pills you can take first, that should fix you right up."

It hasn't been too long since he'd been in a similar situation, one of his actors confessing in tears and begging him not to call the cops, and he has enough connections that even through that horrible month he hadn't needed to resupply. It's a matter of a minute to grab the methadone from the bathroom, counting a couple small white pills into Judal's hand. "Just what the doctor ordered."

It's not quite the satisfaction of a needle sinking into his arm, but it's good enough. Judal eagerly swallows them dry no matter how his stomach churns and twists, and he flops back again, shivering, huddling into the blanket until slowly, they start to take effect.

The throbbing of his head is the first to subside, the ache in his muscles a much more distant thing by the minute, and he could nearly sob from the relief of it, thinks maybe he does when he starts being able to calculate how many hours it's been since Gyokuen last let him have anything. "Sorry," he hazily mumbles. "Really sorry. I'll do something for you anyway. It's been awhile, didn't you miss me?"

"Of course I missed you," Sinbad grumbles, sagging on to the bed, tugging Judal close against his chest. "You know I did, I must have called you twenty times. Your boss took out a restraining order on me, and you're asking if I missed you?"

"You stopped calling," Judal complains, huffing out a hot, slow breath as his vision stops swimming and things start being pleasantly, contently fuzzy. He flops forward, nudging his face into Sinbad's neck. "Kouen's… he's dumb. Really dumb. Why didn't you just kidnap me?"

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me." Sinbad strokes through Judal's hair, unbinding the tie-it's been let go, messed up in all his thrashing-and combs his fingers slowly down. "You picked up a few times and told me you couldn't go out with me again. I came by the studio and Kouen called the cops, then sent one of his little brothers to fuck up my computers." He shrugs. "If you wanted to see me, you could have let me know."

"I tried to." Judal exhales slowly, eyes lidding with the slide of Sinbad's fingers through his hair. "I tried to sneak out one night. That's when En-ah… not really En… company directors, weirdos that manage the finances, whatever… they got really mad, told him about it, then he got mad at me. Said I was making him look bad. Did you know I was actually a little freaked out by needles before then?" he dreamily adds. "Don't care anymore."

"How long?" Sinbad asks again. "Since you started using? You know it'll get harder to get off the longer you're on it, and you have to quit sometime." He tries to keep the disapproving dad out of his voice, keeping to a concerned, gentle tone, but ah, it's hard to see Judal like this, imagine him in a couple years with sunken eyes and sagging skin, teeth falling out and scratching at imaginary itches, blowing guys in an alley for a hit. "You can always come to me, though. For help or a place to hide or even more of those pills."

"… Week after we went out? So… not a month yet…" Judal groans, butting his face into Sinbad's chest. "Just keep me, don't wanna go back. Gyokuen's a bitch, she hides everything, won't give me a hit until I do things for her."

"What kind of things?" Sinbad keeps his touch gentle, stroking a thumb over Judal's forehead, his cheekbones before threading his fingers back in Judal's hair. "I've seen her around, looks good for her age, but wow, she gives me the creeps." He leans down, pressing a kiss to Judal's forehead. "If you're serious, you can stay here forever. I won't let anyone hurt you, not ever."

"Lots of things." Judal shivers, his eyes shutting entirely, lulled by Sinbad's touch a dozen times over with the drug coursing through his veins. "She likes watching me. Likes watching En do things to me… I think she mostly just wants me to crawl around and look pathetic, she gets off on it." He heaves a long, weary sigh, eyes cracking open again. "You don't really wanna keep me. It's okay, no one does."

Sinbad's face twists at the explanation, but more important than that is sitting up, hauling Judal onto his lap to hold him more firmly. "You're wrong. I'd love to keep you. Treat you right, keep you safe, get you cleaned up and on your own two feet-hell, I told you last time that you can live with me if you want."

"Baad idea," Judal sighs, his head lolling back as his weight sags backwards into Sinbad's hands. "I'm a pain in the ass. You'll get sick of me."

"Mm, and here's me thinking I'll probably be the pain in your ass," Sinbad teases, and leans down to tug on the shell of one ear with his teeth. "Seriously. I'm not leading you on or anything. I like you, a lot." Ah, Ja'far's going to kill him.

"… But it doesn't hurt when we do it," Judal says with a tilt of his head, not quite processing the joke. "Ah, but-if I leave, they'll get really mad. They might do stuff to you. They were already thinking about it."

"Thinking about it?" Sinbad snorts. "Kid, they've done more than that already. Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself. If you want to stay here, don't let that get in your way."

Judal blinks at him slowly. "You're kind of dumb. Am I really that pretty?"

"You are very pretty," Sinbad admits, hand stroking through his hair again. "And I like you a lot. And even more, I don't like anyone telling me what to do or trying to threaten me."

"… If I leave, Gyoku's gonna be upset." Judal flops forward again, chin dropping atop Sinbad's shoulder. "And Mei and Ha are nice, they're just weird. And En's nice, too, he just has a temper… I don't wanna make everyone mad, they did a lot of nice things for me before…"

"Shh. You don't have to think about it right now. Thinking too much is the enemy of bad decisions, you can quote me on that." Sinbad finds himself rocking slightly, looking down at the relaxed little bundle of limbs and hair in his arms. "You need to sleep? Or eat? Doesn't look like you've done much of either recently."

His stomach rumbles, but there's really no trusting that. "Sleep," Judal mumbles in agreement, sighing into Sinbad's neck as his hands lift to loosely cling to him. "You feel good. Really warm."

Sinbad gives up on the idea of getting anything done today without a fight, tugging the blanket over them as he snuggles down underneath it with Judal. "All right, then. Talk later. Sleep now."

Judal looks even younger when he sleeps. He almost looks young enough that Sinbad checks for his ID, but doesn't bother. That'll be fake anyway. He definitely looks young enough that Sinbad thinks Kouen is a fucking lecher, and the thought of that is so disconcerting he slips out of bed some time before sunrise, tucking the blankets over Judal as he goes through his morning routine.

Phone calls made and exercise done, he hits the kitchen, hesitating before making Judal anything, remembering a few addicts he's known that have preferred to sleep off that next high for days at a time.

Then again, what the hell? He can always make more.

Chocolate chip pancakes and a plate of fruit in hands, Sinbad makes his way back into the room, after triple-checking the locks on every door and window. If Judal wants to be safe, well, that's what he'll get.

Even if he's sleeping the sleep of the dead, the smell of food is enough to rouse him in short order. His stomach feels a dozen times less like it's about to implode at any rate, and so Judal cracks his eyes open, making a lazy, grabbing motion with one hand. "Foods," he mumbles in approval. "You gonna feed me breakfast in bed?"

Sinbad grins, cutting the pancakes into little squares, impaling a few along with a fat dark blueberry. "Say aahhh and I might."

It isn't often that he gets to take care of someone like this. Not really husband material, not really boyfriend material, certainly not father material (no matter what a couple paternity tests claim), most of the people he chooses to associate with are strong, self-sufficient, and capable, and Sinbad likes it that way.

Still, there's something oddly comforting about being able to make someone pancakes in bed.

If being an addict lets him laze around in Sinbad's bed and be handfed really good breakfasts, Judal supposes it's not all bad.

He heaves himself up onto his elbows with a content little noise, obediently opening his mouth. "Aahhh-mmnn, hey, never say you're a bad cook," he happily mumbles around his mouthful. "I could get used to this."

"I never do say I'm a bad cook. I'm a great cook. This is just the tip of the iceberg." Judal is kind of unfairly cute, lazing around and making content little purring noises. All the more reason to get the kid off the smack soon, so mornings like this could get closer to being the norm instead of the exception. Sure, Ja'far had been against him seeing the kid again, but Ja'far hadn't known they were drugging him against his will, or at least without really giving him a choice in the matter. "Wait until I make you waffles with caramelized peaches and bananas on top."

Judal tries not to drool at the thought. "Ugggh, you're not fair. More, I'm starving," he bemoans, wriggling upright to grab for Sinbad's wrist and urge the fork to his mouth again. "Those pills you gave me… coming down from them isn't so bad," he muses, head tilting. "I wonder if that's why Kouen does it that way."

Sinbad laughs, stabbing a few more squares of pancake, feeding them to Judal. "I'll feed you all you want, don't worry. And what I gave you was called methadone, have you heard of it?"

"Familiar," Judal says after a moment's thought, taking the time to chew and swallow properly. "Think there was a girl hooked on it or something, I dunno. Really hate the way it feels, coming down from this shit."

"Yeah, it's not fun coming down from anything," Sinbad says, from some experience he doesn't particularly regret. It's been an eventful life, that's for sure. "This is what they give people who want a safer and easier way to get that same rush. It's what they give out at clinics."

"Mmnn. Definitely what Kouen likes, then. They always make me use needles, though," Judal sighs, flopping back after swallowing another mouthful of pancakes. He rubs absently at his arm, annoyed. "Hurts."

Sinbad had been ready for this, and now he reaches for a small medical kit by the bed, drenching a cotton ball with antiseptic. "Give me your arm, I'll make sure you're not infected or anything. They're giving you the cheap stuff and keeping the pricey good stuff for themselves."

Judal hesitates, but eventually rolls up his sleeve, offering Sinbad his arm. "I didn't want to start doing this, you know," he murmurs, eyes lidding. "I've seen what people look like after they use this stuff for a long time. I like being pretty, not like that."

"Fortunately for you," Sinbad says, a big grin on his face as he tends to the puncture wounds of differing ages-at least administered correctly, that's a mercy- "you haven't been on it long, so withdrawal shouldn't be bad. If you want to stay here, I'll give you pills when you need something, and we'll get through the rest together, all right?" He puts a band-aid on Judal's elbow, then leans down and kisses it. "I like you pretty too."

The little eager flutter in his stomach shouldn't be so strong when Sinbad says things like that. It's just another compliment, after all-ahh, but it's in the way he says it. Definitely in the way he says it, and the way he tries to kiss his damned track marks better. Judal bites his lip, looking aside. "They're a pain in the ass already. Not sure I want to deal with them when they're mad."

"You don't have to. You're an adult, the most they can do for breach of contract is fine you, and I have some damned good lawyers." He leans down, cupping Judal's cheek in one large hand, kissing the tip of his nose. "If you want to stay, stay. Let me deal with the Rens."

Judal's lower lip slowly juts in a pout. "You're saying all this, but I bet you've got a dozen other boyfriends-girlfriends-whatever. Am I really that pretty?"

"Told you. It's not about how pretty you are. I like you." Sinbad stabs a few more pancakes, dipping them liberally in syrup. "You think I'm that kind of a liar? Don't answer that, just say ahh."

"… But you don't even know me. Aside from how I fuck. Sort of." Judal heaves a sigh, but decides not to complain in lieu of food, and promptly opens his mouth again. "Ahhh."

"I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am," Sinbad says with a smile, and takes his own bite of pancakes-he's earned them on the treadmill after all. "So tell me. What do you like to do for fun, huh? Before you got involved in this whole crazy world, I mean."

"… Skip school?" Judal supplies with a sheepish grin, flopping over with a weary sigh. "I dunno. I didn't have much fun. Foster parents didn't give a shit when I actually had them, so I ran off to the beach whenever I could."

Sinbad sighs, stretching out and wrapping an arm around the kid's shoulders. "Not an easy row to hoe, foster system around here. Better than it was in my day, I think."

"Yeah, try being Afghani in the fucking US on top of that," Judal grumbles, sagging into Sinbad's hold and nuzzling his face into his shoulder. "I'm not so dark-skinned, so I'm passable. But geez, when I was younger, and tanned a lot more… no one wants to take that kid home."

"Wow, that sucks." Now that he's looking, Judal certainly does have a bit of that exotic appeal, and he strokes a finger down a tanned cheek. "Surprised you didn't do what I did, just take off."

"Foster family means free food and internet," he sighs out, eyes lidding as he peers up at Sinbad. "Also, you're smart. You started your own company, I couldn't do that."

"Not at first. Starting a company means money, I didn't just pull it out of thin air, you know." Sinbad tilts his head. "Or did you read my autobiography?"

"Your videos are better than any autobiography." Judal lifts his head, cocking it. "Okay, seriously, you were a porn star and now you own your own porn studio-and you wrote a book about it?"

"Absolutely. It's a great read, if I do say so myself!" Sinbad reaches up, plucking a book from the shelf by the bed. "Here, if you're ever interested. But yeah, the videos tell a lot of the story, I think."

"Ehh, pass. You can just tell me, I'd rather hear it from your mouth, anyway. I'm sure it's a lot more interesting that way."

Sinbad tosses the book to the side, wrapping his arms around Judal's waist and tugging him closer. "Anything you want. What do you want to know?"

"… Why'd you take off in the first place?" Judal flops against Sinbad, peering up at him. "You're really smart. You didn't have to do things like this."

Sinbad shrugs. "Five nights in the foster system was enough for me. The idea of spending another four years there didn't really appeal to me, so I hit the road. Wound up….oh, a bunch of places. Hitchhiked, did odd jobs, anything I felt like for money. Got into plenty of dodgy scraps before I met this guy-nice guy, wealthy Arab type-and he got me started in all of this."

"Ahh… I wish I had met the Rens earlier, then I wouldn't have had to dealt with so many idiots-or you. I'd really wish I had met you." Judal absently starts chewing on Sinbad's shoulder. "You're a lot more fun."

Sinbad's eyes lid as he strokes a hand through Judal's hair, throwing a leg over his hips. "Yeah, I'd have taken good care of you. I just….Rashid-that was his name-he taught me stuff, you know? Like, porn doesn't have to be this awful sleazy thing. We can make it just as profitable as any business, and have fun, and take care of our employees, and make it so people like the videos because they can tell the actors are getting off, not just being plastic puppets for their…."

He trails off, shaking his head. "Sorry. I get a little preachy."

"No, it's fine." Judal headbutts his face into Sinbad's neck, nibbling there as well. "I'd like making videos with you a lot more, I think. It's always really boring, over at Kou. I mean, I get off, but… I can get off on just about anything. Except when I'm high. That sucks."

"Makes me wonder why he wanted to get you started on it in the first place," Sinbad muses. "You know it always shows up on camera, right? When you're high? Your eyes get all glassy and your hands don't move quite as accurately-anyone who's looking properly can see it."

"I don't knoooow, he was really mad one night and fucked me and shoved a needle in my arm and god, I threw up for hours," Judal mutters, burrowing his way into Sinbad's chest. "And it makes me not even want to fuck and that's the worst part because I really, really like sex."

"Well, you never have to do it again," Sinbad says firmly. "Not to mention you have nice arms. It'd be a shame if you had to start hiding them on camera. Damn shame, because I've got an image of you in a bellydancing costume I don't really want to get rid of yet." He pauses. "That's not culturally insensitive, is it?"

Judal can't help but laugh. "Man, my parents are dead. I don't even remember Afghanistan, you can literally make slurs and I probably wouldn't even get it. You can put me in a bellydancing costume all you want, I'll work it."

Sinbad laughs with him. "I don't like getting nagged for being insensitive. If you've ever had to go to sensitivity training for sexual harassment, you'd understand." He pauses, running a hand down Judal's belly. "Ever considered piercing?"

"Kouen didn't like the idea, so I didn't. 'Whore rings', my ass… I work in porn, give me a break." Judal pauses, arching an eyebrow at him. "Sexual harassment, huh? Someone doesn't wanna be harassed by you?"

"Secretary," Sinbad mutters. "And when I worked for Balbadd Studios, apparently I got a little handsy with some of the camera operators and studio personnel. Also, if you want to come work for me, you can pierce whatever you want. I don't think there's a thing you could do that will make you unsellable."

"You can get handsy with me any time. Your secretary needs to take the stick out of his ass," Judal sniffs, absently pawing at Sinbad's chest. "I really wanna stay. You're sure you won't get sick of me?"

"I'm sure. I don't get sick of people. And you're adorable." Sinbad nuzzles into his hair. "You don't even have to work, if you don't want to, but I'd love to make you my headliner. You don't mind dealing with a bitchy prima donna getting demoted, do you?"

Judal lightly shrugs. "Not really. They can suck it. I'll work, it'd be kind of dumb if I just lazed around and mooched… though your bed is really comfy."

"If you're going to work, you'll have to take schedules and orders from Ja'far," Sinbad warns. "You two should learn to get along, he's really efficient and fantastic at his job, and once you get to know him, he's one of the best people you'll ever meet."

"I've never done anything to him, why does he hate me?" Judal grumbles, gnawing a little harder on Sinbad's shoulder in frustration. "He's all freckly and weird, needs to take a chill pill."

"He's protective of me." Sinbad shrugs, shivering a little at the teeth in his shoulder. "Doesn't like Kou, not after what….ah, never mind. If you're going to chew, we're going to fuck, you know."

"Protective and makes you take sexual harassment sensitivity training. Right." The younger man hums, moving his teeth to the crook of Sinbad's neck instead. "Gee, I'm definitely not doing this with the idea of fucking in mind."

Sinbad grabs Judal around the waist, hauling the kid up on top of him. "Wiggle around on my cock, I like it when you do that."

Yeah, this is a lot better than sitting at Gyokuen's feet while she dangles a syringe in front o his face. He's still got a little bit of a high from those pills, even if he's coming down, and it's not so much a desperate need this time as it is a sort of niggling want. Easy enough to ignore right now when another, far more pleasant addiction is shoved in front of his face. "You sure that's all you want?" Judal sighs out, throwing a leg over Sinbad's hips and shivering as he does as he's told all the same, grinding his hips down in a lazy little circle. "I can already feel how hard you are."

"Definitely not all I want," Sinbad says with a grin, "but it's a start." He is hard, achingly hard at feeling Judal wriggling on him, and grabs him by the waist, grinding up against him. "I want," he says slowly, hands moving down to squeeze that tight firm ass, "to see your face when I fuck you. And don't think I forgot about my promise to tie you to the bed and fuck you with different things all day."

Judal sucks in a sharp, eager breath at that thought, his own cock immediately hard and aching against the front of his jeans. Ahhh, why didn't he strip in his sleep? Clothes are never useful. "I bet you've got one hell of a collection, too," he breathes, biting his lip as his hips jerk down, grinding hard and needy against Sinbad. "Am I too tight, you think, to fit you and something else inside at the same time?"

"Depends what I stuff inside you," Sinbad breathes, dragging a hand down Judal's stomach to press down over the bulge of his cock. "You really like that idea, huh? Should have known you were a little size queen."

Yeah, this isn't going to last, not when he already feels like he's going to punch a hole in that denim with his cock. "Ride my cock," he suggests, "and let me fill you up raw, and then I'll see what else I've got in my toy box. You didn't share needles with anyone, right? Even Kouen?"

He's never been so fast as to wriggle away and out of his jeans, with his shirt yanked off in short order as well. "No way," Judal shudders, pawing his way around Sinbad for the lube he knows the man keeps under a pillow. "They still wanna keep me clean, I guess. That'd really suck, otherwise." His fingers paw at Sinbad's jeans, opening his fly and carefully tugging them down, just enough to free his cock. It's probably obscene how his mouth waters, and Judal has to remind himself not to just slide down and suck him off first and foremost.

"God, you're big," Judal mumbles, hand slick, dripping with the lube as it drags up the length of Sinbad's cock. "Kinda forgot just how big."

The urge to shove Judal's head down on his cock is a strong one, especially seeing the way the kid licks his lips like he's seen a treat, and Sinbad grits his teeth with the effort. He yanks Judal's pants the rest of the way off, hauling him back up, and slicks his fingers up to slide them around the back. "You like being fingered?" he asks, rubbing a couple at the edge of Judal's hole. "Or do you just want me to shove you down and make you take my cock all at once?"

Sinbad's really, really good at making him feel weak, and Judal just groans, nodding a helpless answer as he squirms his way deeper into Sinbad's lap. "Like both," he sighs, clinging to Sinbad's shoulder as he wriggles his hips, biting his lip at the slide of Sinbad's cock back against the cleft of his ass. "But really want you in me-just-shove me down and use me, I can take it-"

"I know you can take it, I want to make you feel good," Sinbad murmurs, but it's enough of a cue, and he flips them over, pinning Judal down on his back and urging his legs apart, rubbing the head of his cock up and down, teasing his hole. Judal is hot, and he can feel the slick, pressing heat of him, sliding forward until the head of his cock pushes in, slowly breaching that tight hole as he holds Judal down, letting it sink into him inch by inch. "You like that, baby?" he breathes. "Feels good?" It sure as hell does to him.

"Fuck," Judal groans out, his eyes rolling back as his hands dig into the sheets, his legs trembling as they try to splay wider still with every inch of Sinbad's cock that spreads him open. Good is an understatement. It's a tight fit, was before and is now, but it's so slick and hot that Judal doesn't care. It just makes him whine, makes him want to wriggle down all the more eagerly, and his hands lift to claw at Sinbad's back, clinging to him as his chest heaves. "Really good, Daddy," he moans, toes curling as he tries to arch his back and shove himself down all the more. "N-no one's cock feels as good as yours-"

"Not so fast, baby, I want you to feel all of it," Sinbad groans, sliding in a little more with every tiny, shallow thrust, knowing full well how Judal must be aching with it by now. "Just like that, spread your legs, you look like such a pretty girl for Daddy." He reaches down, one hand gripping a thigh tightly, the other curling around Judal's cock, stroking slowly from base to tip as he shoves in a little farther with the next shallow thrust-then all of a sudden, slides all the way in, bottoming out with a grunt. "There we go, good girl."

Judal's mouth falls open, a helpless, broken keening noise pulled from his throat. "So big," he whines, chest heaving from the effort as he lifts his head, trying to look down and see how deep Sinbad is inside of him, how his thick cock stretches him wide and leaves him trembling around him. "G…god… here, press here," he pants out, grabbing for one of those big hands, scrambling to push himself up onto his elbows and guide it to his lower back, no matter the twinge that comes from that movement alone. "You're so big inside your little girl, Daddy, can't you feel it like this? Especially… ahh.. when you… shove in really hard..."

Sinbad groans low in his throat, slamming in deep with the next few thrusts, and christ, Judal's right, he can feel his cock shoving in so far and so thick. "Good girl," he murmurs, and grabs Judal's thighs, yanking them up hard, almost bending him in half as he sinks in. "Watch," he commands, and drags a thumb around the hot, slick clench of Judal around his cock. "Look how-god, you look so fucked open, I can't believe you're taking all that. Is my baby girl a slut?" he murmurs, squeezing Judal's cock in his hand. "Maybe she needs to be taken in hand."

Judal swallows hard, unable to look away from the clenching of his own body, the way he twitches around Sinbad's cock and tries so desperately to take even more of him in, no matter how the man shoves in deep each time, until their bodies connect with a slick, obscene slap. "Y-your slut, I'm your slut, Daddy," he pants out, eyes rolling back at the squeeze of Sinbad's fingers around his cock, his brow furrowing from the effort as his hips twitch up, body hungrily trembling around that big cock stuffing him full. "Ah, fuck-f-fuck, just want you to use me-"

Sinbad's eyes darken, and he urges Judal's hips even closer, yanking the kid down onto every thrust, leaning down to bite and suck at Judal's neck as he rolls his hips, slapping against Judal with every hard, fast, thrust. "Good girl," he purrs, with an affectionate sharp nip to his neck. "Good girl, taking all of her Daddy's cock like the slut she is. You want me to fill you up? Come inside you?" His voice is ragged and urgent, movements following suit, and he slams in deep enough that he knows it'll make Judal whine.

Whine like a bitch in heat, more like-and Judal doesn't care. There's no point in caring what he sounds like when it feels so good, and he pants out a ragged, desperate breath, nodding and agreeing to things he can't exactly hear over the pounding of his own pulse as he arches his back and tries to slither himself down onto Sinbad's slick cock all the more, every muscle bunching tight. "Please, please, please-" It's a mindless mantra, and Judal's breath hiccups hard. "Please, come inside me, I've been a good girl for you, Daddy, so please-"

If there's one thing that shoves Sinbad over the edge, it's begging.

His spine arches into a tight, tense bow as he loses himself, biting down hard on Judal's skin as he shoves deep inside, vision whiting out as he loses himself, spilling hot and slick with a few last, urgent pumps of his hips. He braces himself up on one arm, panting hard as he strokes Judal's cock fast, keeping his cock moving long enough to bring the boy off. "Come on, baby, come for Daddy, come with my cock and my come inside your ass like a good girl…"

Judal's lost even before Sinbad can finish whispering all those things in his ear, lost the second the man comes inside of him, slick and hot and messy, and he sobs when he spills over Sinbad's hand, jerking up with a broken, breathless noise. He twitches, shivering with every lingering slide of Sinbad's fingers against him, everything white-hot and oversensitive, and his head lolls back with a groan, his vision blurring around the edges. "God," he groans, blinking away sweat that wants to trickle into his eyes. "N-never come so hard unless it's with you."

Sinbad pulls out slowly with a hiss through his teeth, trying to be gentle as he rearranges Judal's limbs into some semblance of order. "You make me….god, I haven't been that athletic in years." He presses a sloppy kiss to the side of Judal's face, more or less aiming for his mouth. "Jesus, kid. If you stick around I'm going to get a hell of a lot more exercise than usual, just keeping us both happy."

With an entirely too happy sound, Judal flops down, splaying out bonelessly. "But you're already all muscle-ly," he points out contently, eyes lidded. "More exercise is only good, yeah? Though I can just ride you sometimes, then not so much work for you."

"I'll live," Sinbad assures him with a grin. "If I'm already muscley and I'm getting more exercise, that just means we get to eat and drink more!"

"I like food a lot," Judal eagerly agrees, pawing at Sinbad's chest to pet said muscles in question. "And being horny makes me really hungry. Do you keep snacks around your set? I promise I don't get fat, I just like food."

"Of course I keep snacks around the set. And I'm not worried about you getting fat, you like being pretty too much." Sinbad turns his head to nip at one finger, sucking it into his mouth. "If there's any kind of snack you really like, I'll stock up on it, here and on the set."

"… You'll think it's weird," Judal wryly replies, his finger lazily curling against Sinbad's tongue. "Really like peaches, though. And anything peach-flavored. But just peaches are good."

Sinbad smiles around Judal's finger, giving it a long, slow suck before letting it fall out. "You've been hearing a different definition of weird than I know. Weird snacks to me is like peanut butter and squid sandwiches."

Judal wrinkles his nose. "I like them both separately, does that count? Sometimes I eat peanut butter out of a jar… or, well, usually only when Gyoku did, but that's beside the point."

Sinbad laughs, stroking a hand down Judal's arm. "You're fine. I wouldn't even care if you wanted to eat weird stuff all day long, as long as you're happy."

"… You're really way too nice," Judal murmurs, flopping his head back with a shiver. "Hey, is it okay if I have another pill or something? Before I start feeling sick again. I hate throwing up."

"Yeah, sure. Drink your water first, and I'll give you one more, and then you can sleep it off, okay?" Sinbad rolls out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom for the pills. "And don't sneak more when I'm not looking, I know what I'm doing."

"I'm not gonna sneak 'em, don't really even want 'em," Judal grumbles, rolling over onto his stomach as he makes a grab for the glass of water on the nightstand. "Being high sucks a lot."

"This stuff is better than everything they gave you," Sinbad assures him. "Less crash, less high, but it takes care of the shakes and vomiting. And it's a lot easier to quit, too. Just don't stay on them too long."

"If you say so," he sighs, downing back the water with a few long gulps. "I just don't wanna puke anymore. And have lots of sex and actually get off. Especially with you, I missed you."

"You got off with me today, right? Even with the pills?" Sinbad nuzzles into Judal's shoulder. "Trust me, I wouldn't lie to you."

"'course I did, kind of hard to fake something that good," Judal answers with a grin, butting his head back against Sinbad's. "I'm gonna keep you."