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"Confess to me," Blanc says, his voice is low, matching the light of the early evening that surrounds them. It is mostly a joke in the way he certainly would take it as one but still, he watches intently as Jud gets down onto his knees in front of him at the edge of the sanctuary.
Jud knows he already has confessed, many times over. Blanc knows the boxing thing. He knows Jud is gay and trans, though that was less of a confession and more of an acknowledgement of what he had already made obvious. He knows Jud loves him very dearly, and therefore needs to make it known as often as possible. He knows Jud has nightmares that keep him awake for several nights and maybe, just maybe that he misses Blanc's touch in his very darkest hours (read: every moment they're not touching).
There is one thing Jud hasn't said to him yet though. He knows his wicked imagination is going to win tonight, what he has been thinking of for far too long. Even here, where he knows God is looking down on him, he can't help himself. Or at least will himself up to drag Benoit out of the church and into his bedroom.
"I'm, I want you Blanc." Jud confesses simply without asking for forgiveness and lowers his head to press a soft kiss to Blanc's knee where he sits on the middle step of the sanctuary.
"You want me?" Blanc reaches forward to stroke his face with a soft hand. Feels his stubble against his fingers. It's masculine in a distinctly gentle, loving way and it's enough to make Jud yearn for him.
"I need you." Jud's voice is quiet and already needy as he looks up at Blanc with desperate, pleading eyes. "Please,"
Blanc puts his fingers to Jud's lips then, dragging his lip down and back up again. "You're a very sweet boy," he speaks, and Jud purses his lips kissing Blanc's fingertips. Blanc rubs a finger over Jud's lower lip and Jud lets him in, licking at the tip.
Blanc follows where Jud leads, and it's barely a moment before he's watching Jud take two of his fingers in his mouth. He's gentle around them as he tests slowly getting them all in the way into his mouth, training his throat almost. He goes deeper until there's nothing left to take, nose down to the lowest joint of his finger. He's wet with his tongue when he comes back up. He licks the skin in the space between Blanc's fingers when he pulls them out of his mouth and presses a wet kiss there.
Benoit has been dating him now for a good few months, and has known him for even longer but it's only then that Benoit has the sudden and all-encompassing realisation of Jud's oral fixation. He probably should've realised sooner. Especially being a detective and all. All the little details that he accounted elsewhere. The way he makes Blanc shove a cigarette between his lips the second they have to wait more than 10 minutes for something. Or the way his teeth fret at the edges of his lips while he does anything at all. Either way, this is fun for him. He can play with this. He mentally notes it on the ever-growing list of Jud facts he's learning and loving.
Benoit smiles at him then, a wide smile he feels in his chest. Jud looks so pretty sat on the ground in front of him desperate for any and all attention he can get. Benoit wants to give it to him as he pulls Jud forward by his collar to kiss him. It's immediately needy as Jud opens his mouth and licks into Benoit's mouth.
"Fuck," Jud moans into Blanc's mouth and Blanc cradles his face with soft, very slightly wet from Jud's mouth, fingers. It drags them ever closer and Jud slots between Benoit's thighs leaning up on his knees against the marble step. "Please," Jud holds Benoit's jaw and scratches softly, pawing at him. He kisses him wet and relishes in it when Benoit curls his fingers into the back of his hair.
Benoit's fingers in his hair is his favourite feeling. Such a simple touch that Benoit knows he loves and does it for that reason alone. It's the physical sensation, the desperation that makes the man he loves need to grasp him and kiss him like it's a craving. A need. An addiction. Nowhere else he'd rather be.
When they pull away from the kiss Benoit looks beautiful. He smiles down at Jud like he's the sweetest gift he's ever been given. Like he's precious. Jud has never felt precious, certainly the opposite, but Benoit's wordless expression and glaring desire for him are making him consider it.
Benoit is gentle with his hand pushing Jud to move slightly back until there's a little space between them. Jud's mouth falls open in a breath and his eyes light up when he feels Benoit tease him. Benoit watches as he pushes the end of his shoe up between Jud's legs. "Fuck," Jud's voice is breathless and Benoit wants this just as much as Jud does.
The easy circles Benoit moves his foot in do more than a good job at pleasing Jud. His mouth is open and wet, panting breath, as he matches Benoit's motions with his hips, grinding forward rough against his boot. Beneath his pants he is already soaking wet and he wishes internally he wasn't in black pants so Benoit could know without him needing to say a word. He wishes they were telepathic together. Like Blanc could hear his every thought.
"I'm so fucking wet, please," He moans and Benoit's smile turns satisfied when he hears that.
"That's it, my good boy," Benoit's voice is surrounding him from what feels like far away. Jud is all in.
He lowers his shoe away from Jud then when he begins to get into it, just to be mean, if only for the fun of it. Jud all but whimpers at the loss of contact. Pretty boy.
"Don't tease me." Jud says, serious and looks up at him with wet eyes. He knows how to get his way with Benoit, or at least he thinks he does. Blanc, however, has seen this game with Jud enough times to know it is exactly that, a game. A small series of micro-expressions and movements to get what he wants. Like whenever Jud wants Blanc to pause doing paperwork for 'Just one tiny kiss,' that actually means he wants to make out for an hour on the couch. Blanc falls for it more times than he doesn't.
Now though, with Jud on his knees on front of him. He sees it clear as day. He likes it. The push and pull of them finding their rhythms together.
"My poor boy," Blanc pets Jud's hair and pouts his lip slightly, faking pity. Jud only continues his game further, making his eyes needier and parting his lips. Benoit has seen this side of him before too, the reaction to the reaction when Blanc teases him a little.
"Please. Benoit." Jud keeps his voice serious but needy and low. Benoit almost wishes it wasn't so much fun to see him like this. "I need you to help me, please."
"Sad little puppy, aren't you." He says and chuckles quietly, stroking Jud's jaw.
Oh. Jud learns something new about himself in that moment. He liked that. Like, a lot. "Say that again," His voice cracks accidentally when he speaks, "Please." He begs this time.
Benoit gets this look that Jud has never seen before. Somewhere between excited and proud of them both. It turns Jud on. "My puppy," Jud closes his eyes, tries to suppress the moans that sit at the back of his mouth. He takes a breath and in a moment of desperation and impulsive need, he ruts his hips slow against Blanc's boot "Mmh that's it. Good boy." Blanc praises him and puts an indulgent hand into the front of his curls. This feels further than they've gone together before and he needs this. Right now.
This is what Jud was asking for.
"Fuck." Jud whines, and ruts his hips up against him properly in a desperate, repetitive motion. Over and over. He focuses on the feeling of the friction and fuck. It is so good.
It's a balancing game and a strength one. Rolling his hips forward and then back again. Laying a hand down against gritty and coarse carpet to hold himself up.
He's far gone almost immediately with the sensation but acknowledges where he is. Church. The floor of the church, to be exact. On his knees. It feels sinful and dirty in a way that he knows will lead to him praying for an hour extra later tonight. But right now, right here with Blanc, it makes everything strangely sexier for him. That thought alone feels dirty for him too.
He focuses back in on the sensation of Benoit's boot rubbing against him and ruts harder instead of faster.
"Mm that's it baby, just like that." Benoit seems to flush warm as he praises Jud. It makes Jud sweat under his collar. He drags him up into a kiss then and Jud doesn't stop the fluid motion of his hips. It's a barely coherent kiss as Jud pants in his mouth and Benoit pants back, desperate, hot breath.
"Fuck, Blanc, fuck. Please." He whines leaning his forehead forward into him. Holy fuck. Everything is moving so fast. He's consumed by it. He needs this.
"Sweet, perfect boy. So good for me." Benoit holds his face and looks in his eyes like he loves him. Because he does. Jud could cry.
This is the best he's ever felt in his life, Jud thinks. Like the need for each other is enough to push him the rest of the way there as he thrusts hard, rubbing his clothed body against Benoit's shoe. He might never wash these pants ever again. Stained knees and centre seams that struggle as he tests them with his movement. He wants this moment framed and put somewhere important no one else can ever see. A locked room at the Vatican perhaps.
His clit rubs on the lip of Benoit's boot then and he thrusts quick and fast into the feeling taking what he needs. "God. Please," He cries, lowering his head to Benoit's thigh. He presses soft kisses to the cashmere there.
It feels perfectly holy and completely fucking perverted the way that they share each others body without so much as undoing the top buttons of their shirts. The way Benoit is becoming an irremovable piece of him lodged under his skin forever. Seared to his skin deeper than the scars that make him feel like the man he is and always has been. Irreplaceable. Permanent.
Heat pools low in his stomach and his thighs ache with the constant back-and-forth motion but he needs this, just like this. Not enough and overwhelming in perfect harmony.
He doesn't know what he did to deserve someone so willing to give him this pleasure however he wants it. Honouring Jud's desire as if it's even more than his own. As if it's the greatest fucking pleasure in the world just to watch Jud get off. He knows Benoit is hard in his pants and as soon as he can convince himself to stop rutting like a dog in heat, he's going to give him anything he wants. Going to ride him or let him bend him over and smack his ass while he uses him til he cries. And then let him use his hole some more.
It's so hard to stop is the thing. It feels so fucking good. Like this is only what his body was ever designed for. In God's image. Or something. He focuses in on the feeling and drowns out the rest of the world. Closes his eyes and just, feels.
Jud doesn't so much as worry about how many sins this is because he is gone with it and it doesn't fucking matter anymore. He doesn't worry about his celibacy because they're still in their clothes and fucking like this, if it can even be called that, is a technicality the Mormons might want to think about using. If he's a dirty sinner for this, so be it. It's worth every prayer he'll do in the coming weeks.
"Baby," Blanc says and Jud opens his eyes, "Tell me how it feels,"
Jud leans into him again, catching his mouth in a wet kiss that is all tongue and teeth. "So, ah, fucking good, so, hhh, so close," Jud breathes out half into Benoit's mouth, kissing at the corner of his lips.
Blanc seems to take control of him again in his haze when he slots a steady hand into the front of Jud's curls again. Jud will happily be a dumb puppy under him in every lifetime if this is what he gets. He lets his mouth fall open, wet and moans when Blanc grips his hair. "You wanna be a good boy for me?"
Jud is incoherent as he nods and makes sounds that he tries to make sound like "uh-huh, please, yes, anything,"
Benoit looks so fond and loving and Jud is so fucking close. "You gonna cum on yourself like a dog?" Uh-huh. Yes. Whatever you want angel. Jud ruts quick and he's rounding the corner when Benoit drags him up and speaks silky right in his ear, "Judas, cum for me angel."
Oh fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
He is well and truly fucked in that moment. He doesn't stand half a chance. So maybe Blanc can read his mind, specifically what makes him fucking cum like a slut. It was always going to be that. However he could bring Jud the greatest pleasure.
"I'm, fuck, I'm gonna cum." Jud moans and his mouth falls all the way open. Benoit pushes his fingers in and Jud sucks around them for a moment. Blanc watches him switch from nearly there to there.
"Good boy. That's it. My good, sweet angel." Benoit praises him, pulling him up to kiss his face and that's all it really takes before Jud is whimpering and coming hard in his pants.
"Fuck," he pants into Benoit's mouth. He comes harder than he's expecting, and he feels like Benoit has turned him inside out. He breathes hard, his eyes closed and lets his forehead fall to Benoit's knee.
Benoit pets his curls, it's loving and comforting in a way that Jud warms to immediately, pressing a kiss to Benoit's knee when he opens his eyes after a short moment. When he looks up at Benoit he has that look again, like he's proud in spite of his own desire and need for what could possibly come next. Like, Jud coming in his pants because of him is the most perfect sight he's ever seen. Jud definitely does feel precious to him now.
"I think you should confess more often," Blanc jokes and Jud smiles into an easy kiss. Jud thinks so too.
So he does. "I love you," Jud confesses, not for the first time.
"I love you angel." Benoit confesses right back, kissing him.