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The bunker is the same as it always is, minus one new addition; they're playing host to a fool that decided to contest Vincent's claim on what was his. The poor stranger is tied to a post, an unwilling audience as Vincent proves to him that Jae isn't to be pawed at or whistled over. Jae had been acting as bait, sure—the seduction itself had been fully consensual. Still, Vincent's territory is his and he proves that now.
Jae belongs to me, Vincent says with his actions, pushing it against a table in their guest's sight. He claws his nails against Jae's sides, making it moan in pain. He tells the tied-up fool, This one's mine.
Vincent grabs Jae by the hair, candyfloss strands bright against his fingers, and pulls his pup's head back to see the curve of its throat. He settles their audience with a cruel smile, or something resembling a smile, something toothsome and sharp, and snaps his hips against Jae's through both of their clothes.
"O-Ouch," Jae is muttering. It's not upset. It rarely is when it's the subject of Vincent's violence. There's just something heady about the cruelty—about the dizzying array of lights that begin to appear under Jae's eyelids when Vincent levels a punch to its head. "Ah, Vin…"
The nickname is usually saved for Vincent's sweeter moments, but there's something sweet about this, isn't there? Being claimed in front of a stranger, a hard stance of possession. Vincent's jealousy is almost cute. Scary, but sweet.
It can feel Vincent's smirk against its neck as he leans in for a kiss to the exposed skin. Then it feels teeth scrape gently, shockingly so, against its flesh. It expects Vincent to say something, to growl out some promise of ownership, but he's silent. All he does is grind against Jae's backside, his erection pressing against its clothed pussy.
He does that for a little while, just buck against Jae, surprisingly sultry and almost gentle, until he loses his patience with over-the-clothes play and starts to tear at Jae's clothing. Under Vincent's strength, Jae is almost immediately bare. Jae might take a moment to be embarrassed at being naked in front of a stranger, but it's hard to feel humiliation towards a captive audience. The stranger watches, sure, but neither Jae nor Vincent are paying him any mind now. He's just another piece of their play. Less than a toy.
They'll only keep him around as long as it takes for the next full moon to roll around. And that's blessedly soon, Jae is realizing, because Vincent's growing rougher—rougher than usual, even. He grabs Jae's hips with clawed fingers that scratch and pinch and returns his mouth to its neck to nip hickeys into. Hickeys that quickly turn into love bites that feel almost hateful. His dick is free from the fly of his jeans, rubbing up against Jae's thighs.
"Close your legs," he says, laving his tongue up Jae's neck.
It listens, because it knows he'll get meaner the closer he is to cumming. It closes its plush thighs around his cock, moaning and dropping its head as he fucks its thighs, his dick rubbing against its pussy. He fucks Jae's thighs like he's thinking of killing it, but with a strange softness that Jae recognizes from their moments alone. When Vincent starts growling out, Mine, mine, mine… too quietly for their captive to hear, it suddenly makes sense.
Jae almost laughs, feeling just as affectionate.
Vincent fucks its thighs in mean thrusts, the slap of his rough denim against its skin arrhythmic and intoxicating. He pulls it up off the table by its hair, back against his strong chest, and slaps it across the face. The noise of pain that leaves it only makes him do it again, a smirking laugh on his lips, broken only by growling moans. He slaps it, then closes his hand into a fist, punching the side of its jaw with enough force to send its head turning the other direction.
"That'll teach ya," he says, voice low and breathless. Whether he's talking to their guest or Jae, it doesn't know—it probably doesn't matter who, when Jae's the one on the other end of Vincent's temper.
He pulls his dick out from between its thighs and forces it back up to standing by its hair before flipping it over onto its back on the table. Vincent brings his other fist down hard onto Jae's stomach. Jae gasps around empty lungs, winded, shocked by the sudden blow—and then Vincent is pushing its thighs apart and fucking its pussy. He's not sweet about it. Sometimes he is, in those lovely moments when it's just them and Vincent is feeling nothing but love, but not at this moment. Vincent is jealous and angry and full of himself and so breathtakingly smug as he shows their audience exactly what he can do—what he can get away with.
Vincent isn't small by any means. He's tall, he's broad-shouldered, he's muscled, and his dick is proportionally large. Having it forced so suddenly into it has Jae gasping further. All the violence is as intoxicating as it is frightening. Vincent fucks Jae like he has a vendetta. It makes stars dance in Jae's vision, doubly so when Vincent lands another mean punch to its cheek. He grabs it by the hair again, the bottom of his palm against its forehead, and slams its head against the table once, twice, again, fucking it all the while.
"Vin—cent—!" Jae manages to groan. It grabs onto his forearm with one hand and scrambles against the table with the other. It's struggling, suddenly. Even as pleasure continues to bloom, the pain is winning, and so is the panic.
Vincent is getting close, at least, Jae can tell. He's especially pent up, it seems, probably due to the approaching full moon. Vincent pulls Jae up into a sitting position suddenly to sink his teeth deep into its shoulder, making it shout in pain as blood spills around the corners of his mouth, staining his teeth and lips as he growls through his orgasm. He pulls out just in time to spray his cum over Jae's stomach and thighs instead of its pussy.
They're both panting, their captive all but forgotten.
Vincent is licking at the blood spilling slowly from Jae's neck, lapping it wolfishly. "I'll make ya cum in a while," he murmurs. He doesn't quite meet its eyes, but presses their foreheads together anyways. "I'm not done with you yet."