Jerome silently opened the bathroom door, the contrast of the warm steam to the cold air of the hall making him shiver momentarily. He gripped onto the soft, fluffy towel that adorned his slim waist with one paw.
Fixing the towel so that it would stay up without the use of his hands, he left the room. He walked over to the couples' shared bedroom. His paw clasped around the silver knob, turning it slowly so it wouldn't make a sound. Jerome opened the door, looking into the room. Mitch was on the bed, laying down on the plush white sheets. He was wearing one of his nightshirts and a pair of blood red booty shorts.
"How was your shower?" Mitch asked, not turning his head away from the screen of his phone. Jerome looked at Mitch with a questioning look but shrugged it off. Jerome walked over to their dresser, pulling out a pair of boxer and sweats.
"Fine…. Are you pissed at me?" Jerome asked, dropping the towel into the laundry basket and slipping up his boxers.
"Depends, are you still an asshole?" Mitch said, putting unneeded emphasis on the word 'you'. Jerome rolled his eyes. Mitch could always get away with being smart, unlike Jerome.
"No…." Jerome said sincerely. The last thing he needed after tonight was Mitch in a bad mood. Mitch looked up from his phone and smiled a little. He patted Jerome's side of the bed, silently asking him to sit with him. Jerome plopped himself down beside Mitch. He gingerly wrapped one of his arms around Mitch's shoulders, snuggling into the comforter.
"What'cha doing, babe?" Jerome asked, leaning his head over to look at Mitch's phone. He had his calculator open, adding the number one to some other number. Jerome couldn't see the number, 'cause it was one of those "fancy" calculators and all it says is Answer + 1. Mitch pulled the phone towards his chest before Jerome could get a peek at the number. He gave Mitch a questioning look, and to that, Mitch let out a little giggle and laid his head on Jerome's furry chest.
"238…. That was the total." Mitch said looking at Jerome, smiling giddily. Jerome tilted his head to the side, confused.
"Of…?" Mitch chuckled, surprised that Jerome didn't recognize that number, it was only one more than 2 days ago…
"It's the number of people who have met their demise to you… or if I must dumb it down for you, it's the number of people you've killed." After those words were let out, Jerome stared and softly growled at Mitch with somewhat playful anger.
"I'm not that stupid… I know what demise means-." Jerome said, paw roaming through Mitch's soft, amber hair and tousling it lovingly. "-and that's a lot of people…"
Mitch smiled, shaking his head ever so slightly. "Well no duh… but..." Jerome turned his head down to look at Mitch. "There's no doubt that, that number will get higher right?" He said it like a question, yet it seemed to be rhetorical in a sense. Jerome just nodded softly and Mitch smiled. One of Mitch's hands threaded itself through Jerome's thick, clean, chest fur, the other wiggled its way underneath Jerome's body as he turned on his side. One of Mitch's bare legs wrapped slightly around one of Jerome's. Jerome smirked at the innocent gesture with dirty intents.
Jerome groped possessively at the underside of Mitch's pushed up thigh, lightly dragging his filed claws across the creamy flesh. Mitch looked up at the smirking Jerome with a look of mild surprise. But he got the picture when Jerome's paw ran over his ass. Mitch smirked inside himself as he dragged a digit down Jerome's neck, hoisting himself up so Jerome could have better access. Jerome gripped Mitch's thigh with some force, wrapping his forearm around it pulling it up higher.
"You wanna fuck me, don't you…~" Mitch husked deeply into Jerome's ear making his breathing hitch slightly. Jerome knew that Mitch knew the answer, he knew that he was just teasing… and that pissed him off majorly. It was his job to tease, to make Mitch beg, to be the one with power. Power is why he killed, he felt like he needed to prove his strength, his dominance. However he would never ever hurt Mitch, he loved this man to death.
Hell, if Mitch said: "if you kill one more person, I'm gonna leave" he would stop killing. Mitch was worth so much more than just power, so much more. Mitch had no problem with Jerome showing him who was in charge, in fact it was quite a big turn-on for him, and Jerome knew that. So he had always used that little turn-on against him, by thoroughly showing Mitch who was in charge. But for now, he would play along with Mitch. Jerome wanted to see if his lack of dominance changed Mitch's sex drive in any way.
"Yeah… I do." Jerome said softly, doing absolutely nothing when Mitch settled himself down on Jerome's covered lap. Mitch shifted his hips, so he was straddling Jerome like a horse who he was gonna ride…hard. The fact that Jerome wasn't gripping at Mitch's hips and telling him that he wasn't in charge confused Mitch, so he asked.
"What are you doing?" Jerome looked up at his lover. Mitch's eye were normally hard to read, but Jerome could tell just from his gaze that he was somewhat pissed off and confused.
"What do you mean 'What am I doing?' I'm letting you have your fun." Sure that is what Jerome was doing, but he'd like nothing more to push Mitch down into this bed and fuck him so hard he couldn't walk the next morning.
"No, No, No. You're supposed to tell me that you're in charge and fuck me…" Mitch complained, moving his hips back and forth at a moderate pace.
"Well maybe I'm tired…" Jerome smirked, lifting up his eyebrows and looking at Mitch with his lustful eyes. "…so if you can't go just one day without my cock up your ass, you ride me." Those words seemed to shut Mitch up in an instant, leaving him flustered. Jerome smirked at him, wanting to see what his boyfriend would do now. Mitch didn't know what to do, he didn't want Jerome to think of him as some cock hungry whore. Yet that's what he was, it was SO hard for him to not have Jerome's cock, hell, anyone's cock either in his mouth or up his ass.
"Fuck it…" Mitch whispered, hands eagerly reaching down to pull down Jerome pajama pants down, licking his lips gently. Jerome scoffed at his boyfriend down on his knees tugging down the clothing article which caused Mitch to look up.
"Pathetic…." Jerome growled out, paw violently grabbing at Mitch hair. His claws dug into Mitch's scalp as he pulled Mitch by his hair so that they were eye level. Mitch breathing got heavy suddenly, mostly likely due to his boyfriend's domineering eye contact. "Fucking whore…." Mitch shivered, biting his plush bottom lip. Sure it was meant to be degrading but Mitch couldn't help liking being called such a thing. Jerome grabbed one of Mitch's arm with his free paws and tugged it behind his back. It was almost comical how fast Mitch was reduced to the state of one of Jerome victims, hands tied behind his back with rope and immobilized. Well partially in the state, minus having a knife up to his neck.
"My little slut likes getting tied up, doesn't he?" Jerome said climbing onto the bed. Mitch couldn't see anything do to a blindfold that covered his coffee eyes. He whimpered softly, and almost inaudibly when Jerome ran a heavy paw down his now bare back. Jerome licked his lips, his rough tongue peeking out as he saw Mitch writhe, twisting and turning in his bonds.
These two loved to role-play in the bedroom, but a certain scene that they specifically liked to play out was Mitch falling victim to Jerome. It was so unbelievably and absurdly erotic to Mitch when Jerome would pin him down, leaving him begging for his life. They would reenact how Jerome would kill someone, obviously leaving Mitch alive each time... but there was something special about it. Something about being tied up and threatened, almost killed by his lover's bare paws that gave Mitch a certain, sick ecstasy.
Each and every time, Jerome would either put a knife up to his neck or he would use his claws. However, when he killed, he would NEVER use his paws. He took so many precautions before he went out, like his special boots and his... His gloves. Did he wear them tonight? Mitch didn't see him take them off and he didn't see them in the pockets of his coat. That scared him, just the thought of Jerome possibly getting caught.
"Biggums?" Mitch asked, tugging weakly on his bonds, attempting to turn his head back, failing epically when Jerome dug his paw into Mitch shoulder. He didn't show any signs of answering, running his free paw over Mitch's body. Jerome never listens when he's in his mood, the only word he would listen for was their safe word.
Mitch would rarely use that word. He was so used to what Jerome would do and never felt uncomfortable, so he thought that Jerome would find it weird for him using it so early, let alone at all. Oh well...
"Biggums... Betty..." Mitch panted out. As soon as he said that, Jerome hands stopped in their tracks.
"You okay?" He asked, claws plucking at the braided material, slicing it. He picked the rope segment up off the bed, tossing it on the floor. Gingerly setting Mitch in between his legs, Jerome's chest pressed to Mitch's back, he stroked his soft hair.
"I'm fine... I just wanted to stop..." He admitted. Jerome looked at him, confusion easily showing though his dark jade eyes. Mitch shook his head softly. "I wasn't uncomfortable... You didn't do anything wrong, I just wanted to ask something."
"Hhm?" Jerome hummed, tilting his head down to look at Mitch. His hand in Mitch's hair stopped moving when he saw Mitch's eyes, gaze strong and a bit frightened.
"Did...Did you remember to wear gloves tonight?" Mitch asked. Jerome scoffed at the absurd question. He always remembered to wear gloves…right? Jerome didn't remember putting them on, or taking them off for that matter, Oh Shit…
Jerome went wide eyed as he bolted off the bed to run to the laundry room, just barely scrapping his left side on the door frame. Mitch was scared out of his fucking mind, rubbing his wrists as he walked down to the basement.