Original Art & Story (Master/Slave)
Decided to post this as I'd want it here for archival reasons.
The art:
Rated G, two portaits of the characters in this story; Rick in the slave outfit and Sean in the sweater.
I was having a seriously difficult time drawing Rick, and I'm not happy with him, but then, I'm never happy with how my Rick comes out. :P Sean's good, though.
The story:
Untitled NC-17 piece about a sexual encounter involving light master/slave play. It's less focused on intercourse, however, and more focused on foreplay and on the psychological implications of such play. Pairing is Rick/Sean, with mention of Rick/Braeden and Sean/Braeden and other characters that aren't really important enough to the story at hand to bother explaining.
Friendship borne out of necessity was always tricky, but it worked for them, Rick reflected. Thankfully, the friction of their relationship was just as therapeutic as the consolatory moments. Without Sean as both punching bag and psychologist, he was sure he’d have gone insane.
Now he watched Sean through his lashes as he idly shaved wood from one of Braeden’s oil pencils. The handle of the switchblade was warm in his palm. He placed the blade against the pencil and slid it down, away from his body. Another curl of wood fell to the tile at his feet.
It was a ruse, a semblance of something to do while he studied Sean. For instance, he noticed the fluid way Sean moved about the kitchen-as though he were born with a ladle in his hand and a full knowledge of every spice known to man. And watching the way Sean moved brought about other intricacies Rick never before noted: the pull of his work shirt over muscled biceps, the sensuality of Sean’s lips as they pursed in thought, and an authoritative nature that clipped his movements into controlled, concise actions. It was that last that affected Rick the most.
He carefully lay both the knife and pencil on the table as he lifted himself to his feet. Sean was just taking the pasta off the stove. He strained it, tossing it in a light marinara and fresh basil. It smelled divine, and Rick breathed in deeply, coming up behind Sean to lay his hands on the other boy’s hips.
Sean started, his serving fork clattering to the stove top as Rick let out a low chuckle.
“I think I scared the dick right off him,” he murmured as Sean groaned.
Rolling his eyes, Sean spun around, deftly moving out of Rick’s grasp. “Rick,” he snapped, that one word needing no further explanation.
“What?”
“Just-” Sean waved a hand at him indistinctly. He sighed heavily and shook his head, attempting to return to his meal. “What do you want, Rick?”
Rick licked his lips. He‘d backed against the counter after Sean had pulled away and stood there now, hands braced to either side of him. He looked Sean over lazily. “How’s your little game with Brae going?”
A few grinds of pepper fell over the pasta, and Sean threw Rick a frown over his shoulder. “What?”
“You know, that creepy master/slave shit you do.”
Sean flushed deeply, ducking his head over the pasta, and Rick bit back a snicker.
“I don’t-it’s fine.”
“Yeah?”
Sean pushed the bowl of pasta away, apparently finished with it. “Yeah.”
“You still got that jewelry shit?”
“Yeah.”
“Even that creepy fucking collar with the-the-that fucking lock on it-” He gestured erratically, dropping his hand as Sean spun on him once more, flushed nearly purple.
“Why, Rick?” he said. They locked eyes for a moment before Sean ducked his head again, moving past him into the living room, then swinging around the corner to lope up the stairs, not caring whether Rick was following. “It’s creepy, and it bothers you. I get that. Can we just drop it now? If you really want to know, you can ask Braeden when he gets home.”
He strode into the bedroom, feeling the weight of Rick’s presence at his back. “You can stay for dinner if you like, but I’m not answering these questions anymore.”
Breathing hard, his eyes still cast down, Sean stood in front of the closet, wrestling out of his work shirt in the hopes of changing into something a little more comfortable. He paused after dropping the polo to the floor, not surprised to hear Rick shift in the doorway.
“Sharing a closet with him?”
Sean closed his eyes briefly. “I do live here, Rick.”
“Enjoying my boy’s dick?”
“Rick-”
“Nah, it’s cool. I mean,” Rick gave a short, bitter laugh, “you know it’s not okay, but I’m dealing with this shit. But maybe you can tell me something.”
Sean waited for Rick to continue, and when he didn’t, he turned, only to see Rick had managed to get right behind him undetected, now standing not a foot away and staring, dark eyes half lidded and unreadable. For the second time that night, Sean started badly, thankful his hands were already empty this time. “Wha-”
“I trusted you,” Rick said, almost too low to hear. His eyes were on Sean’s mouth, one hand raised and hovering in the air between them. Sean couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, Rick smiled. It was small, wry and slightly twisted but still enough to calm Sean’s racing heart. “I never meant to hurt you,” Sean managed.
Rick lay his hand again Sean’s bare chest, and his smile faltered. He looked away.
In Sean’s eyes, Rick constantly walked the thin line between patience and violence, and every day spent watching Sean in the arms of the man he loved thinned that line a little more. It was a betrayal on Sean’s part, pure and simple. Part of him almost hoped Rick would hit him, if only to alleviate even a little of the guilt he felt on a daily basis, but Rick had never laid even a single finger on him in anger. He needed Sean too much, Sean knew, and it only made things worse.
A minute passed, and Sean frowned slightly, laying a hand over Rick’s and stroking along his knuckles absently. “You wanted me to tell you something?”
The smile flitted across Rick’s mouth once more, though he continued to stare past him, bemused. “What do you get out of it?”
Sean sighed. “I’ve told you, Rick, Braeden and I…we need each other right now. With Briar gone-”
Rick frowned, his eyes snapping to Sean, actually seeming to see him for the first time in minutes. “What? No, bitch, I know you’re with Braeden ‘cause he’s fucking awesome. What the fuck you talking about? No, no, I mean this slave shit.”
Sean blinked rapidly, then blushed again, pleased that Rick was finally coming back to himself. “I said I’m not answering-”
“Let me see the-the collar thing.”
“Rick-”
“Fine, whatever, I’ll just find it myself.” Rick pulled away from Sean, ignoring his objections, and deftly avoiding the sudden, desperate grab Sean made at his sleeve with a resounding cackle.
“You think I ain’t ever seen a fucking sex toy before!”
“No, Rick, it’s not-I just don’t want-”
Rick dove for Sean’s nightstand, grinning at his further squeaks of protest. “You still got that pink dildo I got you for your birthday?”
“That was a decade ago!”
“Eh-” Rick shrugged, diving back into the drawers.
Sean just gave another sigh and slumped down onto the wide bed he shared with Braeden, giving in. When Rick put his mind to something, nothing in the world would stop him, and it was best to simply brace yourself and go along for the ride.
It was only a moment later that Rick let out a fresh cackle, hoisting a velvet bag over his head triumphantly. Sean shook his head again, smiling wryly as the silver patterned bracelets and collar were dumped onto the bedspread, then raising an eyebrow as Rick went from mischievous to reverent in the blink of an eye.
As Sean watched, Rick traced a finger over the curve of the collar. He fingered the simple lock that, when fitted properly, would settle just in the hollow of the throat. Leaving the collar, he went back to the bracelets, lifting one and fitting it over his wrist. The attached ring slid onto his finger, cool and constricting, and he flexed his fingers, twisting his hand this way and that to study the play of light over burnished silver.
“You like it when he dominates you?” he asked, preoccupied once more.
The question was so honest that Sean forewent the usual bout of embarrassment, too caught up in what Rick could possibly be thinking. “It’s not the domination that I-I get off on, I guess.”
Rick met his eyes somberly.
Sean took a breath, moving in closer. “It’s,” he said quietly, taking Rick’s wrist to touch the bracelet as well, dropping his eyes to it, “…it’s not about that. It about the trust.”
Rick only frowned curiously, and after a moment, Sean continued, still stroking the cool metal. “Life sucks right now, Rick.” Rick snorted in response, and Sean gave a brief smile before continuing, “Briar’s gone, I hate school, Margie is driving me crazy, and even being with Braeden-well, letting him make it better means that I’m hurting you.
“But when we…you know…play…we can get away from all that. He’s…” Now he did blush, but he forced himself to continue, rushing through the words quietly. “He’s my master, and I know he would never hurt me. I take care of him, and he takes care of me. He protects me. Master would never let anything happen to me.”
“You know how fucked up that sounds, right?” Rick murmured, but when Sean dared to meet his eyes, there was an undeniable longing there.
Sean shrugged absently. “You could try it, you know….” Rick went to open his mouth, and Sean hurried on, “Just ask him tonight when he gets home. Maybe you’ll like it.”
Rick shrugged. He picked up the second bracelet, slipping it onto his wrist. “Maybe.”
“I can go stay with my parents…or use the second bedroom or something. It’s cool. I don’t-he’s still yours.”
Rick hummed thoughtfully in reply and held up the collar. “You got a key for this?”
“What?” Sean frowned, then nodded. “Oh, yeah, um-” A moment later it was retrieved from the nightstand, and Sean unlocked the collar before helping Rick to place it around his neck. It fit like a glove.
Sean was still rambling about something or other, but Rick had stopped listening long ago. He stood, crossing over to the full length mirror against the far wall. He touched the lock. The weight of it against his throat was both comforting and mildly unsettling. “Don’t you have some kind of, like, outfit or something you wear with this shit?”
Sean gave a nod. He jumped up and went to the closet, snatching up the loose fitting white shirt and soft, tight black pants that made up the so called “slave” outfit.
“Think this would fit me?” Rick asked, studying the cut of the shirt. It reminded him of the kind of thing you’d see on the cover of a romance novel, with wide, billowing sleeves that gathered at the wrists and a plunging neckline laced with leather straps.
In his mind’s eye, Rick could actually see Sean wearing something like this. Coupled with the demeanor he’d shown in the kitchen-that subtle hint of command-the costume really would make Sean seem like the proud yet unassuming courtesan, the kind of man even Rick, himself, might swoon over. The thought made Rick chuckle beneath his breath, comparing this imaginary figure to the spectacled geek he’d known in high school.
Sean, accustomed to Rick’s bouts of self-amusement, let the odd chuckle slide, eyeing the shirt against Rick’s chest. Rick was shorter by an inch or two, but all in all, they seemed a comparable size, and Sean shrugged. “Try it on and find out.”
Rick started to nod, then cut himself short, eyeing Sean’s still bare chest curiously. He met Sean’s eyes with a smirk. “And what about you?”
“Me?” Seemingly having forgotten his state of undress, Sean looked down, then blushed darkly. “Oh-oh, uh, I was just going to change into pajamas-”
“Oh, fuck that.” Rick shoved past Sean, dropping his own clothes to dive into the closet. He rummaged for a few moments before Sean managed to find his voice.
“Wait, uh-what?”
Rick poked his head out from the sea of clothes to grin manically. “I said fuck that. I ain’t playing dress up on my own!” He dove back into the fray despite Sean’s protests and soon emerged with a set of clothes Sean recognized as Braeden’s. He tossed them to Sean before scooping up his own set once more. “Wear that.”
“They’re not mine.”
“So? Wear them anyway-”
“Look,” Rick muttered around a sigh, coming up to lay a hand against Sean’s chest once more. His voice dropped an octave, softening significantly as he continued, “That’s what I want to see you in. So wear it for me. Okay?”
Taken by the somber tone, Sean just nodded.
“Good.” Rick patted Sean on the cheek, then grinned widely, yanking off his pink t-shirt. “Let’s strip, bitch!”
Allowing himself a small smile, Sean shook his head, carrying his pile of clothes to the bed to deposit them while he undressed. Rick had chosen Braeden’s charcoal-gray cashmere sweater and a pair of dark slacks. The sweater was something he was quite familiar with. A gift from Braeden’s mother, he wore it rarely, but the times he did were always a treat. Sean could remember nights not too long ago where he and Rick fought like cats to secure a place curled up at Braeden’s side, cuddled close into the soft, body-warmed material. He stroked the sweater idly before donning it himself now. The slight stretch to the material had it fitting his smaller frame almost as well as Braeden’s larger, but he still felt like a child raiding his father’s closet, blushing pink as he rapidly finished putting on the rest of the outfit.
When he finished and turned, however, all color left his cheeks.
Rick stood at the other end of the room, two fingers pressed to the collar as he studied his reflection. Catching Sean’s eye through the mirror, he spun, attempting and failing to summon up a cocky grin as he took in Sean’s ensemble.
Rick was used to Sean in ripped jeans and faded t-shirts, a far cry from his current outfit. The color didn’t compliment him as well as an olive or something more earthy, but there was no denying that elegance suited him.
Rick’s awe at Sean, however, was nothing compared to Sean’s assessment of Rick. He’d yet to take his eyes off the other man, scanning him from head to toe and back again, as though he was sure his eyes were deceiving him.
“You look like a prince.” Rick blinked, mouth opening to deliver what was sure to be a cuss filled retort, but Sean was continuing almost reverently, “You’re gorgeous.”
“Well…no shit…” It was less pomp and more blatant confusion that colored Rick’s words as he turned back toward the mirror. His long, blond hair was pushed back from his face, falling across his collar. The outfit, itself, had an almost fairytale appeal, simple yet undeniably elegant, a stark contrast to the intricate designs adorning the collar and bracelets. He didn’t look like himself at all.
Rick met Sean’s eyes in the mirror again. “And neither do you,” Rick said softly.
Ignoring Sean’s questioning look, Rick turned toward him again, striding over quickly enough that Sean backed up a few steps out of fear of being smacked into. Instead, Rick stopped a hair’s breadth from him, close enough that a deep intake of breath would have their chests brushing, and Sean flushed again, his eyes instinctively drawn to the deep vee collar of the shirt, to the lightly tanned chest beneath as he wondered if it fit him nearly half as well as it did Rick now.
Before he could explore that thought further, Rick was pressing into him, giving Sean a shit eating grin. “Let’s do this,” he said, his voice regaining its usual bravado.
Sean blinked. “Do-um…?”
“You know, be all creepy and shit?”
Sean blinked again, wetting his lips. Rick’s breath was warm over his chin and smelled like orange tic tacs. “You…want to dominate me…?” The idea was entirely unappealing.
But Rick only stared at him for a long moment, breathing shallowly, a light tinge of pink coloring his cheeks. “No,” he breathed, his tone deepening once more. Sean found the back and forth of his voice, from its usual brash tone to this quieter, more somber one confusing in the utmost, but he was starting to think this was the real Rick he was talking to.
Rick fisted his hands in the sides of Sean’s shirt, watching him with an almost morbid fascination as he explained, “I want to be the slave.”
Sean stared at him. “You…what?”
Rick gave a half shrug. “Why not?”
“You…” Fighting back a laugh, Sean detangled himself, slumping down onto the bed as he continued to stare at Rick with raised eyebrows. “You want meto dominate you? Are you kidding me?”
Rick’s face went blank, but not quickly enough to cover a slight cringe. “Yeah, never mind. Whatever.”
“No, no, wait-” Sean scrambled to his feet. Rick was already tugging at the laces of his shirt, stilled only by Sean’s hands over his. He wouldn’t meet Sean’s eyes, and Sean couldn’t say what he was doing if he tried, but hurting Rick seemed to be a specialty of his. It stopped now.
Breathing in deeply, Sean closed his eyes for a brief moment. He counted to three, and that was all the time he allowed himself to consider his actions before he opened his eyes and said, “Did I give you permission to undress, boy?”
Rick’s head jerked up. He stared, wide eyed, at Sean. Sean fought to stay in character when all he wanted to do was burst out laughing. For the first time in his life, he’d managed to make Rick speechless.
Instead, he raised an eyebrow and repeated. “Well? Did I?” It was maybe a little softer than he’d intended and didn’t hold the same authority Braeden possessed when playing this role, but domination wasn’t Sean’s forte.
Still, Rick seemed to take to it quickly enough. He lowered his eyes demurely, sending another giddy wave of unreality through Sean, as he murmured. “No. Sorry.”
“Sorry…?”
Confusion creased Rick’s brow, and Sean relented. “Sorry, master,” he explained. He and Braeden had gone through this same thing; it was oddly enticing to be on the other side of the conversation.
“Forgive me, master,” Rick murmured, falling further into the role.
“Better,” Sean conceded. He raised a hand, idly stroking his knuckles down Rick’s cheek. The touch sent a thrill of pleasure through him, and a visible shiver through Rick. The situation was still so ridiculous, so terribly wrong, and that in itself drove a spike of pleasure straight through him.
Rick’s eyes were wide, his full lips parted slightly to take in shallow breaths. Sean had never seen him so vulnerable before.
“Get on your knees.” It took a few seconds for Sean to realize he, himself, had spoken the words, and, even more surprisingly, that Rick was actually complying.
“Yes…master…,” Rick replied, sinking slowly to the carpet.
“Oh god.”
Rick looked up curiously, almost innocently.
“Take it out.”
Rick nodded, but when he reached toward Sean, his hands were shaking. Sean held his breath as Rick undid the zipper on his slacks, then laid a careful hand on Rick’s shoulder. He was half hard in anticipation when Rick freed him, his own breathing ragged. He suddenly understood what Braeden got out of this. A decade of mockery and teasing at Rick’s hands weighed heavily on his mind, but Sean was the one in control now. He squeezed Rick’s shoulder and whispered huskily, “Touch it.”
Rick wouldn’t meet his eyes, wouldn’t even look up. Instead, he studied Sean’s cock, ghosting callused fingers down the length of it, watching it thicken and harden beneath the light ministrations. He pushed back the foreskin, and the dark pink head appeared, shining slightly in the dull light. Rick licked his lips.
Sean sank his teeth into his lower lip as Rick’s mouth closed over the head of his cock. Rick’s sheer love of dick overcame any qualms concerning who the dick belonged to, and he suckled it eagerly, one hand wrapped around the base to give it quick, rough strokes. The slave bracelet’s chains clicked softly with each movement. The scene coaxed a quiet moan from Sean’s lips, and Rick stilled slightly, finally lifting his eyes to Sean’s.
He pulled back just enough to speak, his mouth whispering against Sean’s cock as he asked, “Do I please you, master?”
The absurdity of the situation was suddenly too much, and Sean let out a barking laugh, taking a stumbling step backwards. “This is fucking ridiculous.”
Rick looked almost hurt for a moment, and Sean wanted to take back his words, but before he could even open his mouth to speak, Rick was up on his feet, shoving Sean back until his knees hit the mattress, and he sank to the bed, startled. Rick straddled him, the soft, black pants stretched tight over his own obvious erection.
“I know, right?” Rick answered, a hint of his usual biting tone lacing the words. He gave Sean a brief, deprecating grin, then kissed him.
Unlike his hands, Rick’s lips were surprisingly soft, and Sean kissed him back without thought. He still tasted like orange tic tacs, a fact that Sean found downright adorable, not that he’d ever say as much. He imagined that Rick had taken one or two to mask the scent of his cigarettes, but ended up downing the entire box like an eager child.
His thoughts were cut short, however, as Rick gave a throatily groaned “Master,” bucking his hips forward against Sean’s cock. Right, Sean thought, they were playing a game. And he was in charge. He wrapped an arm around Rick’s waist, twisting them both until they were lying down, Rick beneath Sean. Deftly, Sean attacked Rick’s pants with one hand, bracing himself with the other. He knew the outfit Rick wore inside and out, and in seconds he had the fly open and a hand wrapped around Rick’s stiff cock. Rick breathed heavily into his mouth, his own hands searching frantically for Sean’s forgotten erection.
For some time, panting and grunting filled every corner of the room, each man straining to find friction in the hands of the other. Rick watched Sean through half closed eyes: the wet, parted lips, the way the hair fell in his eyes, swaying gently with each rock of his body, the bob of his adams-apple and the hint of stubble along his jaw. This was an unseen side of Sean, one that he found immeasurably attractive.
Rick wasn’t stupid. He was thinking with his cock, and as soon as he hit release, Sean would be nothing more than the goody-goody little boy made of sunshine and smiles that Braeden chose over him. In ten or fifteen minutes, they’d be rivals again.
But before Braeden came between them, they were friends, and despite Braeden, they still were. Rivals or not, Sean was the one person Rick could trust with his secrets, the one person he could trust completely.
Suddenly Sean’s eyes opened. He looked at Rick, eyes dark with passion, lips drawn down into a slight frown. “What is it?”
It was then that Rick realized he’d been the one to put a halt to their activities. His hand was pressed to Sean’s chest, pushing him back with scant force. It took him a full thirty seconds to understand why he’d stopped, what he was looking for, and when he did, it scared the shit out of him.
“I want you to fuck me.”
It was below a whisper, barely more than mouthing the words, and Sean leaned forward, frowning deeper. “What?”
“I want you to fuck me…master,” Rick repeated.
Sean’s eyes went wide and he jerked backward. “P-pineapple! Pineapple!” he practically shouted, using what Rick knew to be Sean and Braeden’s safe word in their little games. He watched impassively as Sean shuffled hurriedly to the other end of the bed.
“You what?”
Rick sat up and shoved his hair away from his face. He met Sean’s eyes squarely. “Fuck me.”
With the shock wearing off, Sean sat for a moment, catching his breath, then gave a jerky shake of his head. “No.”
Nodding slowly, Rick looked away. He suddenly needed a cigarette. “That’s cool,” he said quietly, an idea occurring to him. “Whatever you want. But you fucked Brae when he asked, didn’t you?”
When Sean didn’t answer right away, Rick looked to him, only to find him flushing slightly, not meeting Rick’s eyes. “He told you about that?” he said finally.
“No,” Rick replied, swallowing hard. “You just did.”
Startled, Sean snapped his head up to stare at him, and Rick shrugged, though he didn’t look nearly as nonchalant now.
Sean let out a breath. “Look, Rick…”
“Whatever. I figured he’d let you. Eventually. And I’d rather you fuck him than fucking Kelsey or someone, you know? But you fucking owe me.”
“I…okay, Rick, but I don’t see-”
Rick surged forward, snatching at Sean by the front of his sweater and pulling him close, allowing the hurt of betrayal-Sean and Braeden’s, both-to seep into his tone. “You owe me.” He said it low, unable to speak any louder for the lump in his throat and hating himself for the shaking of his hands. He ducked his head, screwing his eyes shut as he admitted, “I need this.”
The tension in Sean’s body slowly drained, and he slumped beneath Rick’s hands. For a moment, neither said anything, then Rick whispered. “Please fuck me…master.”
Sean started again. He looked down at Rick, at the cocky, headstrong asshole he‘d grown up with reduced to a pleading child before him. He knew that asshole was only a cover, but when it was the norm, it was easy to forget. To let down his guard so completely now was a testament to how badly Rick needed this.
Stroking his knuckles down Rick’s cheek, praying he wouldn’t regret it, Sean nodded. “God, Rick…I, uh…. I’ll take care of you.” Rick relaxed, his fists unclenching. “I promise.”
But they were back in character now, and Sean stood, drawing back and pulling Rick with him, still coddling and petting him in a way that under any other circumstances would earn him a smack and few choice remarks, but now Rick went along complacently, contentedly. He undressed at Sean’s command, keeping his eyes demurely downcast as he divulged himself of everything save the bracelets and collar.
After that, he was instructed to undress Sean, and he did so almost reverently, skimming his fingers through Sean’s chest hair, along his shoulders, the pale skin such a contrast to Braeden’s smooth, dark complexion-unfamiliar but not unpleasant.
Soon they stood in front of one another, gloriously naked, their frenetic passion having faded into something calm and comfortable by the time Sean pushed Rick back onto the bed and climbed overtop of him. Rather than the frantic fumblings from before, Sean’s hands trailing over Rick’s skin were careful and sure now, and Rick returned Sean’s touches with slow, steady movements of his own.
Sean found himself tracing each of Rick’s tattoos: the tribal band around his upper arm and the modern heart design Braeden had created, laying just above Rick’s own. Sean smiled when he got to the tiny rainbow etched onto Rick’s hip, enjoying the contrast between the harsh black of the other tattoos and the softness of the colors here. All in all, it was very Rick-all darkness and sharp edges surrounding a tiny, pink center. Sean lay a chaste kiss to the rainbow, then, feeling the easy tug of desire, he moved his lips inward, kissing a path along the juncture of hip and torso before burying his nose in the musky blond curls at the base of Rick’s cock.
Rick, for his part, couldn’t get his hands out of Sean’s hair. He was so used to Braeden, with his smooth pate and even smoother chest and limbs, that Sean was almost exotic in comparison. A thick head of chestnut hair begged to have fingers combed through it, and the short hair spread across his chest like a bird in flight was equally as enticing. It was softer than expected and thick enough for a pleasantly unified appearance without being overwhelming.
His cock gave a slight twitch when Sean’s cheek brushed alongside it, a pearl of precum pooling at the tip. “Please, master…?” he said quietly.
It wasn’t as difficult as he’d imagined, submitting to Sean like this. He could never do it for Braeden-for most anyone, really-but Sean saw him for what he really was anyway. What was the point in hiding? Let Sean see, let him take control and for one moment in his life Rick wouldn’t have to go through it alone.
Sean tilted his head up at the sound of Rick‘s voice, his eyes dark and unfocused. His cock brushed Rick’s calf, sparking another stir of desire in him, and he mouthed the words again, eyes locked with Sean’s.
Sean gave him a vague smile. “Beg me.”
That took Rick by surprise. He blinked, staring at Sean for a moment, then gritted his teeth and complied. “Please.”
Sean raised his eyebrows. “Do you really mean that, slave?”
Rick fought the urge to roll his eyes. Handing over control to Sean was one thing, but humiliating himself in the process? He didn’t think so. He bit back a growl and surged up just enough to wrap one hand around the back of Sean’s neck. Rick tugged him forward until Sean was properly overtop of him again, their lips inches apart. “Please,” he said again, his anger seeping into the lone word.
Sean let out a low chuckle; it was for the role, and so completely unlike the man, himself, that it had Rick reeling again, but he barely had a chance to process it before Sean was leaning in low again, their lips brushing as he remarked, “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?”
Rick grinned. “You better fucking believe it.” He dragged Sean into a kiss, then let out a low moan as Sean shifted, his cock brushing Rick’s. “Fuck me now?” he uttered, low, when they’d parted.
Sean simply nodded.
It had been some time since he’d been on top, Sean reflected as he snatched up the lubricant from the nightstand and smoothed it over his shaft. Just the simple act of pulling out the lubricant, however, reminded him that, while he enjoyed sex with men, he missed being with a woman terribly. When he touched two fingers to Rick’s sphincter, preparing him, and their eyes met again, he had to wonder if this was where their bond came from-each waiting for their own Carter, a slave to his heart; no adornments needed.
From there, he gave in and sunk deep inside the other man. Instead of worrying where this would leave them come tomorrow, he focused on the softness of Rick’s lips under his, the tang of his Tic Tac breath and the heat of his body as it enfolded Sean’s cock. He’d always imagined sex with Rick to be little more than a novelty, but moving over top of him now, unhurried, was closer to a spiritual experience.
With each thrust of his hips, Rick gasped and bucked beneath him, eyes closed, hand touching and tugging and toying with Sean’s hair and over his chest and arms. Even speechless the boy couldn’t stay quiet, and he filled the room with throaty grunts and keening cries. For Sean, it was both awkward and exciting, uncomfortable but deliciously naughty, and he shifted slightly, aiming his hips upward to better hit Rick’s prostate as he picked up speed.
He was cheating on Braeden, Sean realized dimly, as the first hint of orgasm approached. It wasn’t guilt that drove the thought; Braeden made such a habit of fucking Rick himself or bringing him into their bed that he was practically a part of their relationship. No, Braeden wouldn’t even care, and that’s what bothered him.
Just then Rick opened his eyes. He looked at Sean, sad and almost sweet in demeanor, and Sean suddenly hated Braeden for stringing Rick along like this. Braden didn’t want anyone else inside Rick? Well-Sean gave a particularly pointed thrust, earning a high pitched whine from Rick with satisfaction. “Fuck him,” Sean whispered, then he kissed Rick again.
As much as Rick hated to admit it, Sean knew how to fuck. Within seconds of that dick sliding inside him, the guilt faded and it was all he could do to cling to Sean and remember to meet each thrust with the proper angle to his hips. Maybe it was the damned foreskin-Rick had never been with an uncircumcised man before-or maybe it was sheer dumb luck, but Sean was doing something right.
He only let himself think of Braeden once, as his orgasm threatened to overtake him, and when he cried out a quiet “Master” and pulled Sean closed, he wasn’t sure who he was referring to.
Afterward, they lay together, Sean over Rick for some time as they both fought to catch their breath. Sean’s mouth was pressed to the side of Rick’s neck, so they didn’t have to look at each other. Rick ran his fingers absently through Sean’s hair, watching the play of light over the designs in the slave bracelets.
The metal had warmed to his skin and the weight was a comfort rather than a constriction. He almost wished he didn’t have to take them off.
Sean shifted overtop of him, raising slightly onto his elbows, though he kept his face pressed against Rick’s skin. “We’re okay, right?” he said after another moment, his lips brushing Rick’s throat enticingly.
“Yeah, bitch,” Rick replied softly.
Sean chuckled, finally rolling off Rick. He lay on his back next to him, scrubbing his hands over his face.
The urge for a cigarette was stronger now, and Rick sat up, frowning curiously. “What?”
“Nothing,” Sean said, dropping his hands. He met Rick’s eyes and smiled, shaking his head. “No, it’s just-even when you’re nice…you’re mean.”
Rick stared at him a moment, then rolled his eyes, his tone back to its familiar harshness. “That doesn’t even make sense. I’m going to go out for a smoke. You, uh…” Here Rick faltered, softening once more for only a few seconds, “you gonna be here when I get back?”
“Actually, I was thinking we could eat dinner? It’s cold by now, but I can heat it up.”
Rick nodded thoughtfully as he scrounged around for his original clothes. He’d yet to take the jewelry off, but he didn’t seem in a hurry, and Sean decided it could wait.
“Then…afterward…,” Sean ventured, “maybe we could come back up here and lie down. You know, nap or whatever until Braeden gets home.”
Paused with his jeans halfway up his thighs, Rick threw Sean a disbelieving look. “What? Do you want to fucking cuddle or something?”
“Oh, no, I just-”
“Yeah, well, if you really need to.”
Sean frowned. “No, I just thought-”
“But don’t say I never did nothing for you.” Rick strode over to Sean, patting him on the cheek before padding barefoot out of the room.
Sean stared after him for a long moment, then pulled himself out of bed as well. He went over to the closet, intent on finally getting into those pajamas. He smiled as he pulled the t-shirt over his head. Even as Rick had bitched, Sean could see something in him, something he’d never say.
He strode toward the window and laid a hand against the glass, finding Rick by the light of his cigarette in the dark. “You’re welcome.”
The end.
The art:
Rated G, two portaits of the characters in this story; Rick in the slave outfit and Sean in the sweater.
I was having a seriously difficult time drawing Rick, and I'm not happy with him, but then, I'm never happy with how my Rick comes out. :P Sean's good, though.
The story:
Untitled NC-17 piece about a sexual encounter involving light master/slave play. It's less focused on intercourse, however, and more focused on foreplay and on the psychological implications of such play. Pairing is Rick/Sean, with mention of Rick/Braeden and Sean/Braeden and other characters that aren't really important enough to the story at hand to bother explaining.
Friendship borne out of necessity was always tricky, but it worked for them, Rick reflected. Thankfully, the friction of their relationship was just as therapeutic as the consolatory moments. Without Sean as both punching bag and psychologist, he was sure he’d have gone insane.
Now he watched Sean through his lashes as he idly shaved wood from one of Braeden’s oil pencils. The handle of the switchblade was warm in his palm. He placed the blade against the pencil and slid it down, away from his body. Another curl of wood fell to the tile at his feet.
It was a ruse, a semblance of something to do while he studied Sean. For instance, he noticed the fluid way Sean moved about the kitchen-as though he were born with a ladle in his hand and a full knowledge of every spice known to man. And watching the way Sean moved brought about other intricacies Rick never before noted: the pull of his work shirt over muscled biceps, the sensuality of Sean’s lips as they pursed in thought, and an authoritative nature that clipped his movements into controlled, concise actions. It was that last that affected Rick the most.
He carefully lay both the knife and pencil on the table as he lifted himself to his feet. Sean was just taking the pasta off the stove. He strained it, tossing it in a light marinara and fresh basil. It smelled divine, and Rick breathed in deeply, coming up behind Sean to lay his hands on the other boy’s hips.
Sean started, his serving fork clattering to the stove top as Rick let out a low chuckle.
“I think I scared the dick right off him,” he murmured as Sean groaned.
Rolling his eyes, Sean spun around, deftly moving out of Rick’s grasp. “Rick,” he snapped, that one word needing no further explanation.
“What?”
“Just-” Sean waved a hand at him indistinctly. He sighed heavily and shook his head, attempting to return to his meal. “What do you want, Rick?”
Rick licked his lips. He‘d backed against the counter after Sean had pulled away and stood there now, hands braced to either side of him. He looked Sean over lazily. “How’s your little game with Brae going?”
A few grinds of pepper fell over the pasta, and Sean threw Rick a frown over his shoulder. “What?”
“You know, that creepy master/slave shit you do.”
Sean flushed deeply, ducking his head over the pasta, and Rick bit back a snicker.
“I don’t-it’s fine.”
“Yeah?”
Sean pushed the bowl of pasta away, apparently finished with it. “Yeah.”
“You still got that jewelry shit?”
“Yeah.”
“Even that creepy fucking collar with the-the-that fucking lock on it-” He gestured erratically, dropping his hand as Sean spun on him once more, flushed nearly purple.
“Why, Rick?” he said. They locked eyes for a moment before Sean ducked his head again, moving past him into the living room, then swinging around the corner to lope up the stairs, not caring whether Rick was following. “It’s creepy, and it bothers you. I get that. Can we just drop it now? If you really want to know, you can ask Braeden when he gets home.”
He strode into the bedroom, feeling the weight of Rick’s presence at his back. “You can stay for dinner if you like, but I’m not answering these questions anymore.”
Breathing hard, his eyes still cast down, Sean stood in front of the closet, wrestling out of his work shirt in the hopes of changing into something a little more comfortable. He paused after dropping the polo to the floor, not surprised to hear Rick shift in the doorway.
“Sharing a closet with him?”
Sean closed his eyes briefly. “I do live here, Rick.”
“Enjoying my boy’s dick?”
“Rick-”
“Nah, it’s cool. I mean,” Rick gave a short, bitter laugh, “you know it’s not okay, but I’m dealing with this shit. But maybe you can tell me something.”
Sean waited for Rick to continue, and when he didn’t, he turned, only to see Rick had managed to get right behind him undetected, now standing not a foot away and staring, dark eyes half lidded and unreadable. For the second time that night, Sean started badly, thankful his hands were already empty this time. “Wha-”
“I trusted you,” Rick said, almost too low to hear. His eyes were on Sean’s mouth, one hand raised and hovering in the air between them. Sean couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, Rick smiled. It was small, wry and slightly twisted but still enough to calm Sean’s racing heart. “I never meant to hurt you,” Sean managed.
Rick lay his hand again Sean’s bare chest, and his smile faltered. He looked away.
In Sean’s eyes, Rick constantly walked the thin line between patience and violence, and every day spent watching Sean in the arms of the man he loved thinned that line a little more. It was a betrayal on Sean’s part, pure and simple. Part of him almost hoped Rick would hit him, if only to alleviate even a little of the guilt he felt on a daily basis, but Rick had never laid even a single finger on him in anger. He needed Sean too much, Sean knew, and it only made things worse.
A minute passed, and Sean frowned slightly, laying a hand over Rick’s and stroking along his knuckles absently. “You wanted me to tell you something?”
The smile flitted across Rick’s mouth once more, though he continued to stare past him, bemused. “What do you get out of it?”
Sean sighed. “I’ve told you, Rick, Braeden and I…we need each other right now. With Briar gone-”
Rick frowned, his eyes snapping to Sean, actually seeming to see him for the first time in minutes. “What? No, bitch, I know you’re with Braeden ‘cause he’s fucking awesome. What the fuck you talking about? No, no, I mean this slave shit.”
Sean blinked rapidly, then blushed again, pleased that Rick was finally coming back to himself. “I said I’m not answering-”
“Let me see the-the collar thing.”
“Rick-”
“Fine, whatever, I’ll just find it myself.” Rick pulled away from Sean, ignoring his objections, and deftly avoiding the sudden, desperate grab Sean made at his sleeve with a resounding cackle.
“You think I ain’t ever seen a fucking sex toy before!”
“No, Rick, it’s not-I just don’t want-”
Rick dove for Sean’s nightstand, grinning at his further squeaks of protest. “You still got that pink dildo I got you for your birthday?”
“That was a decade ago!”
“Eh-” Rick shrugged, diving back into the drawers.
Sean just gave another sigh and slumped down onto the wide bed he shared with Braeden, giving in. When Rick put his mind to something, nothing in the world would stop him, and it was best to simply brace yourself and go along for the ride.
It was only a moment later that Rick let out a fresh cackle, hoisting a velvet bag over his head triumphantly. Sean shook his head again, smiling wryly as the silver patterned bracelets and collar were dumped onto the bedspread, then raising an eyebrow as Rick went from mischievous to reverent in the blink of an eye.
As Sean watched, Rick traced a finger over the curve of the collar. He fingered the simple lock that, when fitted properly, would settle just in the hollow of the throat. Leaving the collar, he went back to the bracelets, lifting one and fitting it over his wrist. The attached ring slid onto his finger, cool and constricting, and he flexed his fingers, twisting his hand this way and that to study the play of light over burnished silver.
“You like it when he dominates you?” he asked, preoccupied once more.
The question was so honest that Sean forewent the usual bout of embarrassment, too caught up in what Rick could possibly be thinking. “It’s not the domination that I-I get off on, I guess.”
Rick met his eyes somberly.
Sean took a breath, moving in closer. “It’s,” he said quietly, taking Rick’s wrist to touch the bracelet as well, dropping his eyes to it, “…it’s not about that. It about the trust.”
Rick only frowned curiously, and after a moment, Sean continued, still stroking the cool metal. “Life sucks right now, Rick.” Rick snorted in response, and Sean gave a brief smile before continuing, “Briar’s gone, I hate school, Margie is driving me crazy, and even being with Braeden-well, letting him make it better means that I’m hurting you.
“But when we…you know…play…we can get away from all that. He’s…” Now he did blush, but he forced himself to continue, rushing through the words quietly. “He’s my master, and I know he would never hurt me. I take care of him, and he takes care of me. He protects me. Master would never let anything happen to me.”
“You know how fucked up that sounds, right?” Rick murmured, but when Sean dared to meet his eyes, there was an undeniable longing there.
Sean shrugged absently. “You could try it, you know….” Rick went to open his mouth, and Sean hurried on, “Just ask him tonight when he gets home. Maybe you’ll like it.”
Rick shrugged. He picked up the second bracelet, slipping it onto his wrist. “Maybe.”
“I can go stay with my parents…or use the second bedroom or something. It’s cool. I don’t-he’s still yours.”
Rick hummed thoughtfully in reply and held up the collar. “You got a key for this?”
“What?” Sean frowned, then nodded. “Oh, yeah, um-” A moment later it was retrieved from the nightstand, and Sean unlocked the collar before helping Rick to place it around his neck. It fit like a glove.
Sean was still rambling about something or other, but Rick had stopped listening long ago. He stood, crossing over to the full length mirror against the far wall. He touched the lock. The weight of it against his throat was both comforting and mildly unsettling. “Don’t you have some kind of, like, outfit or something you wear with this shit?”
Sean gave a nod. He jumped up and went to the closet, snatching up the loose fitting white shirt and soft, tight black pants that made up the so called “slave” outfit.
“Think this would fit me?” Rick asked, studying the cut of the shirt. It reminded him of the kind of thing you’d see on the cover of a romance novel, with wide, billowing sleeves that gathered at the wrists and a plunging neckline laced with leather straps.
In his mind’s eye, Rick could actually see Sean wearing something like this. Coupled with the demeanor he’d shown in the kitchen-that subtle hint of command-the costume really would make Sean seem like the proud yet unassuming courtesan, the kind of man even Rick, himself, might swoon over. The thought made Rick chuckle beneath his breath, comparing this imaginary figure to the spectacled geek he’d known in high school.
Sean, accustomed to Rick’s bouts of self-amusement, let the odd chuckle slide, eyeing the shirt against Rick’s chest. Rick was shorter by an inch or two, but all in all, they seemed a comparable size, and Sean shrugged. “Try it on and find out.”
Rick started to nod, then cut himself short, eyeing Sean’s still bare chest curiously. He met Sean’s eyes with a smirk. “And what about you?”
“Me?” Seemingly having forgotten his state of undress, Sean looked down, then blushed darkly. “Oh-oh, uh, I was just going to change into pajamas-”
“Oh, fuck that.” Rick shoved past Sean, dropping his own clothes to dive into the closet. He rummaged for a few moments before Sean managed to find his voice.
“Wait, uh-what?”
Rick poked his head out from the sea of clothes to grin manically. “I said fuck that. I ain’t playing dress up on my own!” He dove back into the fray despite Sean’s protests and soon emerged with a set of clothes Sean recognized as Braeden’s. He tossed them to Sean before scooping up his own set once more. “Wear that.”
“They’re not mine.”
“So? Wear them anyway-”
“Look,” Rick muttered around a sigh, coming up to lay a hand against Sean’s chest once more. His voice dropped an octave, softening significantly as he continued, “That’s what I want to see you in. So wear it for me. Okay?”
Taken by the somber tone, Sean just nodded.
“Good.” Rick patted Sean on the cheek, then grinned widely, yanking off his pink t-shirt. “Let’s strip, bitch!”
Allowing himself a small smile, Sean shook his head, carrying his pile of clothes to the bed to deposit them while he undressed. Rick had chosen Braeden’s charcoal-gray cashmere sweater and a pair of dark slacks. The sweater was something he was quite familiar with. A gift from Braeden’s mother, he wore it rarely, but the times he did were always a treat. Sean could remember nights not too long ago where he and Rick fought like cats to secure a place curled up at Braeden’s side, cuddled close into the soft, body-warmed material. He stroked the sweater idly before donning it himself now. The slight stretch to the material had it fitting his smaller frame almost as well as Braeden’s larger, but he still felt like a child raiding his father’s closet, blushing pink as he rapidly finished putting on the rest of the outfit.
When he finished and turned, however, all color left his cheeks.
Rick stood at the other end of the room, two fingers pressed to the collar as he studied his reflection. Catching Sean’s eye through the mirror, he spun, attempting and failing to summon up a cocky grin as he took in Sean’s ensemble.
Rick was used to Sean in ripped jeans and faded t-shirts, a far cry from his current outfit. The color didn’t compliment him as well as an olive or something more earthy, but there was no denying that elegance suited him.
Rick’s awe at Sean, however, was nothing compared to Sean’s assessment of Rick. He’d yet to take his eyes off the other man, scanning him from head to toe and back again, as though he was sure his eyes were deceiving him.
“You look like a prince.” Rick blinked, mouth opening to deliver what was sure to be a cuss filled retort, but Sean was continuing almost reverently, “You’re gorgeous.”
“Well…no shit…” It was less pomp and more blatant confusion that colored Rick’s words as he turned back toward the mirror. His long, blond hair was pushed back from his face, falling across his collar. The outfit, itself, had an almost fairytale appeal, simple yet undeniably elegant, a stark contrast to the intricate designs adorning the collar and bracelets. He didn’t look like himself at all.
Rick met Sean’s eyes in the mirror again. “And neither do you,” Rick said softly.
Ignoring Sean’s questioning look, Rick turned toward him again, striding over quickly enough that Sean backed up a few steps out of fear of being smacked into. Instead, Rick stopped a hair’s breadth from him, close enough that a deep intake of breath would have their chests brushing, and Sean flushed again, his eyes instinctively drawn to the deep vee collar of the shirt, to the lightly tanned chest beneath as he wondered if it fit him nearly half as well as it did Rick now.
Before he could explore that thought further, Rick was pressing into him, giving Sean a shit eating grin. “Let’s do this,” he said, his voice regaining its usual bravado.
Sean blinked. “Do-um…?”
“You know, be all creepy and shit?”
Sean blinked again, wetting his lips. Rick’s breath was warm over his chin and smelled like orange tic tacs. “You…want to dominate me…?” The idea was entirely unappealing.
But Rick only stared at him for a long moment, breathing shallowly, a light tinge of pink coloring his cheeks. “No,” he breathed, his tone deepening once more. Sean found the back and forth of his voice, from its usual brash tone to this quieter, more somber one confusing in the utmost, but he was starting to think this was the real Rick he was talking to.
Rick fisted his hands in the sides of Sean’s shirt, watching him with an almost morbid fascination as he explained, “I want to be the slave.”
Sean stared at him. “You…what?”
Rick gave a half shrug. “Why not?”
“You…” Fighting back a laugh, Sean detangled himself, slumping down onto the bed as he continued to stare at Rick with raised eyebrows. “You want meto dominate you? Are you kidding me?”
Rick’s face went blank, but not quickly enough to cover a slight cringe. “Yeah, never mind. Whatever.”
“No, no, wait-” Sean scrambled to his feet. Rick was already tugging at the laces of his shirt, stilled only by Sean’s hands over his. He wouldn’t meet Sean’s eyes, and Sean couldn’t say what he was doing if he tried, but hurting Rick seemed to be a specialty of his. It stopped now.
Breathing in deeply, Sean closed his eyes for a brief moment. He counted to three, and that was all the time he allowed himself to consider his actions before he opened his eyes and said, “Did I give you permission to undress, boy?”
Rick’s head jerked up. He stared, wide eyed, at Sean. Sean fought to stay in character when all he wanted to do was burst out laughing. For the first time in his life, he’d managed to make Rick speechless.
Instead, he raised an eyebrow and repeated. “Well? Did I?” It was maybe a little softer than he’d intended and didn’t hold the same authority Braeden possessed when playing this role, but domination wasn’t Sean’s forte.
Still, Rick seemed to take to it quickly enough. He lowered his eyes demurely, sending another giddy wave of unreality through Sean, as he murmured. “No. Sorry.”
“Sorry…?”
Confusion creased Rick’s brow, and Sean relented. “Sorry, master,” he explained. He and Braeden had gone through this same thing; it was oddly enticing to be on the other side of the conversation.
“Forgive me, master,” Rick murmured, falling further into the role.
“Better,” Sean conceded. He raised a hand, idly stroking his knuckles down Rick’s cheek. The touch sent a thrill of pleasure through him, and a visible shiver through Rick. The situation was still so ridiculous, so terribly wrong, and that in itself drove a spike of pleasure straight through him.
Rick’s eyes were wide, his full lips parted slightly to take in shallow breaths. Sean had never seen him so vulnerable before.
“Get on your knees.” It took a few seconds for Sean to realize he, himself, had spoken the words, and, even more surprisingly, that Rick was actually complying.
“Yes…master…,” Rick replied, sinking slowly to the carpet.
“Oh god.”
Rick looked up curiously, almost innocently.
“Take it out.”
Rick nodded, but when he reached toward Sean, his hands were shaking. Sean held his breath as Rick undid the zipper on his slacks, then laid a careful hand on Rick’s shoulder. He was half hard in anticipation when Rick freed him, his own breathing ragged. He suddenly understood what Braeden got out of this. A decade of mockery and teasing at Rick’s hands weighed heavily on his mind, but Sean was the one in control now. He squeezed Rick’s shoulder and whispered huskily, “Touch it.”
Rick wouldn’t meet his eyes, wouldn’t even look up. Instead, he studied Sean’s cock, ghosting callused fingers down the length of it, watching it thicken and harden beneath the light ministrations. He pushed back the foreskin, and the dark pink head appeared, shining slightly in the dull light. Rick licked his lips.
Sean sank his teeth into his lower lip as Rick’s mouth closed over the head of his cock. Rick’s sheer love of dick overcame any qualms concerning who the dick belonged to, and he suckled it eagerly, one hand wrapped around the base to give it quick, rough strokes. The slave bracelet’s chains clicked softly with each movement. The scene coaxed a quiet moan from Sean’s lips, and Rick stilled slightly, finally lifting his eyes to Sean’s.
He pulled back just enough to speak, his mouth whispering against Sean’s cock as he asked, “Do I please you, master?”
The absurdity of the situation was suddenly too much, and Sean let out a barking laugh, taking a stumbling step backwards. “This is fucking ridiculous.”
Rick looked almost hurt for a moment, and Sean wanted to take back his words, but before he could even open his mouth to speak, Rick was up on his feet, shoving Sean back until his knees hit the mattress, and he sank to the bed, startled. Rick straddled him, the soft, black pants stretched tight over his own obvious erection.
“I know, right?” Rick answered, a hint of his usual biting tone lacing the words. He gave Sean a brief, deprecating grin, then kissed him.
Unlike his hands, Rick’s lips were surprisingly soft, and Sean kissed him back without thought. He still tasted like orange tic tacs, a fact that Sean found downright adorable, not that he’d ever say as much. He imagined that Rick had taken one or two to mask the scent of his cigarettes, but ended up downing the entire box like an eager child.
His thoughts were cut short, however, as Rick gave a throatily groaned “Master,” bucking his hips forward against Sean’s cock. Right, Sean thought, they were playing a game. And he was in charge. He wrapped an arm around Rick’s waist, twisting them both until they were lying down, Rick beneath Sean. Deftly, Sean attacked Rick’s pants with one hand, bracing himself with the other. He knew the outfit Rick wore inside and out, and in seconds he had the fly open and a hand wrapped around Rick’s stiff cock. Rick breathed heavily into his mouth, his own hands searching frantically for Sean’s forgotten erection.
For some time, panting and grunting filled every corner of the room, each man straining to find friction in the hands of the other. Rick watched Sean through half closed eyes: the wet, parted lips, the way the hair fell in his eyes, swaying gently with each rock of his body, the bob of his adams-apple and the hint of stubble along his jaw. This was an unseen side of Sean, one that he found immeasurably attractive.
Rick wasn’t stupid. He was thinking with his cock, and as soon as he hit release, Sean would be nothing more than the goody-goody little boy made of sunshine and smiles that Braeden chose over him. In ten or fifteen minutes, they’d be rivals again.
But before Braeden came between them, they were friends, and despite Braeden, they still were. Rivals or not, Sean was the one person Rick could trust with his secrets, the one person he could trust completely.
Suddenly Sean’s eyes opened. He looked at Rick, eyes dark with passion, lips drawn down into a slight frown. “What is it?”
It was then that Rick realized he’d been the one to put a halt to their activities. His hand was pressed to Sean’s chest, pushing him back with scant force. It took him a full thirty seconds to understand why he’d stopped, what he was looking for, and when he did, it scared the shit out of him.
“I want you to fuck me.”
It was below a whisper, barely more than mouthing the words, and Sean leaned forward, frowning deeper. “What?”
“I want you to fuck me…master,” Rick repeated.
Sean’s eyes went wide and he jerked backward. “P-pineapple! Pineapple!” he practically shouted, using what Rick knew to be Sean and Braeden’s safe word in their little games. He watched impassively as Sean shuffled hurriedly to the other end of the bed.
“You what?”
Rick sat up and shoved his hair away from his face. He met Sean’s eyes squarely. “Fuck me.”
With the shock wearing off, Sean sat for a moment, catching his breath, then gave a jerky shake of his head. “No.”
Nodding slowly, Rick looked away. He suddenly needed a cigarette. “That’s cool,” he said quietly, an idea occurring to him. “Whatever you want. But you fucked Brae when he asked, didn’t you?”
When Sean didn’t answer right away, Rick looked to him, only to find him flushing slightly, not meeting Rick’s eyes. “He told you about that?” he said finally.
“No,” Rick replied, swallowing hard. “You just did.”
Startled, Sean snapped his head up to stare at him, and Rick shrugged, though he didn’t look nearly as nonchalant now.
Sean let out a breath. “Look, Rick…”
“Whatever. I figured he’d let you. Eventually. And I’d rather you fuck him than fucking Kelsey or someone, you know? But you fucking owe me.”
“I…okay, Rick, but I don’t see-”
Rick surged forward, snatching at Sean by the front of his sweater and pulling him close, allowing the hurt of betrayal-Sean and Braeden’s, both-to seep into his tone. “You owe me.” He said it low, unable to speak any louder for the lump in his throat and hating himself for the shaking of his hands. He ducked his head, screwing his eyes shut as he admitted, “I need this.”
The tension in Sean’s body slowly drained, and he slumped beneath Rick’s hands. For a moment, neither said anything, then Rick whispered. “Please fuck me…master.”
Sean started again. He looked down at Rick, at the cocky, headstrong asshole he‘d grown up with reduced to a pleading child before him. He knew that asshole was only a cover, but when it was the norm, it was easy to forget. To let down his guard so completely now was a testament to how badly Rick needed this.
Stroking his knuckles down Rick’s cheek, praying he wouldn’t regret it, Sean nodded. “God, Rick…I, uh…. I’ll take care of you.” Rick relaxed, his fists unclenching. “I promise.”
But they were back in character now, and Sean stood, drawing back and pulling Rick with him, still coddling and petting him in a way that under any other circumstances would earn him a smack and few choice remarks, but now Rick went along complacently, contentedly. He undressed at Sean’s command, keeping his eyes demurely downcast as he divulged himself of everything save the bracelets and collar.
After that, he was instructed to undress Sean, and he did so almost reverently, skimming his fingers through Sean’s chest hair, along his shoulders, the pale skin such a contrast to Braeden’s smooth, dark complexion-unfamiliar but not unpleasant.
Soon they stood in front of one another, gloriously naked, their frenetic passion having faded into something calm and comfortable by the time Sean pushed Rick back onto the bed and climbed overtop of him. Rather than the frantic fumblings from before, Sean’s hands trailing over Rick’s skin were careful and sure now, and Rick returned Sean’s touches with slow, steady movements of his own.
Sean found himself tracing each of Rick’s tattoos: the tribal band around his upper arm and the modern heart design Braeden had created, laying just above Rick’s own. Sean smiled when he got to the tiny rainbow etched onto Rick’s hip, enjoying the contrast between the harsh black of the other tattoos and the softness of the colors here. All in all, it was very Rick-all darkness and sharp edges surrounding a tiny, pink center. Sean lay a chaste kiss to the rainbow, then, feeling the easy tug of desire, he moved his lips inward, kissing a path along the juncture of hip and torso before burying his nose in the musky blond curls at the base of Rick’s cock.
Rick, for his part, couldn’t get his hands out of Sean’s hair. He was so used to Braeden, with his smooth pate and even smoother chest and limbs, that Sean was almost exotic in comparison. A thick head of chestnut hair begged to have fingers combed through it, and the short hair spread across his chest like a bird in flight was equally as enticing. It was softer than expected and thick enough for a pleasantly unified appearance without being overwhelming.
His cock gave a slight twitch when Sean’s cheek brushed alongside it, a pearl of precum pooling at the tip. “Please, master…?” he said quietly.
It wasn’t as difficult as he’d imagined, submitting to Sean like this. He could never do it for Braeden-for most anyone, really-but Sean saw him for what he really was anyway. What was the point in hiding? Let Sean see, let him take control and for one moment in his life Rick wouldn’t have to go through it alone.
Sean tilted his head up at the sound of Rick‘s voice, his eyes dark and unfocused. His cock brushed Rick’s calf, sparking another stir of desire in him, and he mouthed the words again, eyes locked with Sean’s.
Sean gave him a vague smile. “Beg me.”
That took Rick by surprise. He blinked, staring at Sean for a moment, then gritted his teeth and complied. “Please.”
Sean raised his eyebrows. “Do you really mean that, slave?”
Rick fought the urge to roll his eyes. Handing over control to Sean was one thing, but humiliating himself in the process? He didn’t think so. He bit back a growl and surged up just enough to wrap one hand around the back of Sean’s neck. Rick tugged him forward until Sean was properly overtop of him again, their lips inches apart. “Please,” he said again, his anger seeping into the lone word.
Sean let out a low chuckle; it was for the role, and so completely unlike the man, himself, that it had Rick reeling again, but he barely had a chance to process it before Sean was leaning in low again, their lips brushing as he remarked, “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?”
Rick grinned. “You better fucking believe it.” He dragged Sean into a kiss, then let out a low moan as Sean shifted, his cock brushing Rick’s. “Fuck me now?” he uttered, low, when they’d parted.
Sean simply nodded.
It had been some time since he’d been on top, Sean reflected as he snatched up the lubricant from the nightstand and smoothed it over his shaft. Just the simple act of pulling out the lubricant, however, reminded him that, while he enjoyed sex with men, he missed being with a woman terribly. When he touched two fingers to Rick’s sphincter, preparing him, and their eyes met again, he had to wonder if this was where their bond came from-each waiting for their own Carter, a slave to his heart; no adornments needed.
From there, he gave in and sunk deep inside the other man. Instead of worrying where this would leave them come tomorrow, he focused on the softness of Rick’s lips under his, the tang of his Tic Tac breath and the heat of his body as it enfolded Sean’s cock. He’d always imagined sex with Rick to be little more than a novelty, but moving over top of him now, unhurried, was closer to a spiritual experience.
With each thrust of his hips, Rick gasped and bucked beneath him, eyes closed, hand touching and tugging and toying with Sean’s hair and over his chest and arms. Even speechless the boy couldn’t stay quiet, and he filled the room with throaty grunts and keening cries. For Sean, it was both awkward and exciting, uncomfortable but deliciously naughty, and he shifted slightly, aiming his hips upward to better hit Rick’s prostate as he picked up speed.
He was cheating on Braeden, Sean realized dimly, as the first hint of orgasm approached. It wasn’t guilt that drove the thought; Braeden made such a habit of fucking Rick himself or bringing him into their bed that he was practically a part of their relationship. No, Braeden wouldn’t even care, and that’s what bothered him.
Just then Rick opened his eyes. He looked at Sean, sad and almost sweet in demeanor, and Sean suddenly hated Braeden for stringing Rick along like this. Braden didn’t want anyone else inside Rick? Well-Sean gave a particularly pointed thrust, earning a high pitched whine from Rick with satisfaction. “Fuck him,” Sean whispered, then he kissed Rick again.
As much as Rick hated to admit it, Sean knew how to fuck. Within seconds of that dick sliding inside him, the guilt faded and it was all he could do to cling to Sean and remember to meet each thrust with the proper angle to his hips. Maybe it was the damned foreskin-Rick had never been with an uncircumcised man before-or maybe it was sheer dumb luck, but Sean was doing something right.
He only let himself think of Braeden once, as his orgasm threatened to overtake him, and when he cried out a quiet “Master” and pulled Sean closed, he wasn’t sure who he was referring to.
Afterward, they lay together, Sean over Rick for some time as they both fought to catch their breath. Sean’s mouth was pressed to the side of Rick’s neck, so they didn’t have to look at each other. Rick ran his fingers absently through Sean’s hair, watching the play of light over the designs in the slave bracelets.
The metal had warmed to his skin and the weight was a comfort rather than a constriction. He almost wished he didn’t have to take them off.
Sean shifted overtop of him, raising slightly onto his elbows, though he kept his face pressed against Rick’s skin. “We’re okay, right?” he said after another moment, his lips brushing Rick’s throat enticingly.
“Yeah, bitch,” Rick replied softly.
Sean chuckled, finally rolling off Rick. He lay on his back next to him, scrubbing his hands over his face.
The urge for a cigarette was stronger now, and Rick sat up, frowning curiously. “What?”
“Nothing,” Sean said, dropping his hands. He met Rick’s eyes and smiled, shaking his head. “No, it’s just-even when you’re nice…you’re mean.”
Rick stared at him a moment, then rolled his eyes, his tone back to its familiar harshness. “That doesn’t even make sense. I’m going to go out for a smoke. You, uh…” Here Rick faltered, softening once more for only a few seconds, “you gonna be here when I get back?”
“Actually, I was thinking we could eat dinner? It’s cold by now, but I can heat it up.”
Rick nodded thoughtfully as he scrounged around for his original clothes. He’d yet to take the jewelry off, but he didn’t seem in a hurry, and Sean decided it could wait.
“Then…afterward…,” Sean ventured, “maybe we could come back up here and lie down. You know, nap or whatever until Braeden gets home.”
Paused with his jeans halfway up his thighs, Rick threw Sean a disbelieving look. “What? Do you want to fucking cuddle or something?”
“Oh, no, I just-”
“Yeah, well, if you really need to.”
Sean frowned. “No, I just thought-”
“But don’t say I never did nothing for you.” Rick strode over to Sean, patting him on the cheek before padding barefoot out of the room.
Sean stared after him for a long moment, then pulled himself out of bed as well. He went over to the closet, intent on finally getting into those pajamas. He smiled as he pulled the t-shirt over his head. Even as Rick had bitched, Sean could see something in him, something he’d never say.
He strode toward the window and laid a hand against the glass, finding Rick by the light of his cigarette in the dark. “You’re welcome.”
The end.