Thirty-Six Promises, Simon/Matt RPS, R
Title: Thirty-Six Promises
Author: coffeethyme4me
Pairing: Simon/Matt, *Tim/Matt (who couldn't have guessed?) * [highlight to read]
Rating: R
Words 395
Content: spanking, a little humiliation
A/N: Just under the wire! Thanks to rabidchild67 for encouraging me that it wasn't too late to celebrate Matty's B-Day *and* National Coming Out Day! Here's my (smutty) contribution!
Matt had gotten used to the birthday spankings over the years. His partner, in many ways conservative and straight-laced, was a bit of a wild man in the bedroom, and since Matt, sweet and well-behaved in the spotlight, was a bit of a freak in bed, it worked out well.
It worked even if his husband hit really, *really* hard. So hard Matt would be in tears by the tenth stroke. It worked *because* of that. Matt’s cock was a pain slut and would be straining and dripping in no time.
Yes, Matt had grown accustomed to the private way Simon would celebrate his birthday every year. So it wasn’t the thirty-five strikes that had him red from embarrassment. And it wasn’t even the spanking itself this time that had him so very close to coming on his partner’s clothed thigh.
No, it was Tim sitting there, relaxed and lounging in their bedroom armchair, watching him. It was knowing that Tim wanted to be there - that he and Simon had worked this all out with Matt none-the-wiser. It was realizing that Tim knew he wanted him, wanted this. It was the easy way he’d come into their house and owned Matt’s hammering heart - the handshake he’d shared with Simon - the way Tim’s gaze was so warm and appraising and foreign and too familiar all at once.
It was the fact that he’d followed them into their bedroom, and Matt could feel every step. It was the fact that he’d watched Simon strip him and then watched Matt kneel and bend over his husband’s knee.
It was that Matt had waited for the blows, Simon’s hand caressing his buttocks leisurely - that Matt had been instructed to hold the eye contact with Tim no matter what, to not look away, so that when Simon pulled back and began, and Matt gasped loudly, Tim saw every flash of searing pain, every bloom of intense arousal, every bounce of Matt’s buttocks as Simon hit him, and every tear that dripped down his face.
Simon had upped the ante this year. Simon had given Matt something he’d never hoped to dream for, something he now watched for proof of in Tim’s eyes. And while from his husband there would be thirty-five proud handprints on Matt’s ass tonight, the aftercare belonged to Tim.
And that was the one to grow on.
Author: coffeethyme4me
Pairing: Simon/Matt, *Tim/Matt (who couldn't have guessed?) * [highlight to read]
Rating: R
Words 395
Content: spanking, a little humiliation
A/N: Just under the wire! Thanks to rabidchild67 for encouraging me that it wasn't too late to celebrate Matty's B-Day *and* National Coming Out Day! Here's my (smutty) contribution!
Matt had gotten used to the birthday spankings over the years. His partner, in many ways conservative and straight-laced, was a bit of a wild man in the bedroom, and since Matt, sweet and well-behaved in the spotlight, was a bit of a freak in bed, it worked out well.
It worked even if his husband hit really, *really* hard. So hard Matt would be in tears by the tenth stroke. It worked *because* of that. Matt’s cock was a pain slut and would be straining and dripping in no time.
Yes, Matt had grown accustomed to the private way Simon would celebrate his birthday every year. So it wasn’t the thirty-five strikes that had him red from embarrassment. And it wasn’t even the spanking itself this time that had him so very close to coming on his partner’s clothed thigh.
No, it was Tim sitting there, relaxed and lounging in their bedroom armchair, watching him. It was knowing that Tim wanted to be there - that he and Simon had worked this all out with Matt none-the-wiser. It was realizing that Tim knew he wanted him, wanted this. It was the easy way he’d come into their house and owned Matt’s hammering heart - the handshake he’d shared with Simon - the way Tim’s gaze was so warm and appraising and foreign and too familiar all at once.
It was the fact that he’d followed them into their bedroom, and Matt could feel every step. It was the fact that he’d watched Simon strip him and then watched Matt kneel and bend over his husband’s knee.
It was that Matt had waited for the blows, Simon’s hand caressing his buttocks leisurely - that Matt had been instructed to hold the eye contact with Tim no matter what, to not look away, so that when Simon pulled back and began, and Matt gasped loudly, Tim saw every flash of searing pain, every bloom of intense arousal, every bounce of Matt’s buttocks as Simon hit him, and every tear that dripped down his face.
Simon had upped the ante this year. Simon had given Matt something he’d never hoped to dream for, something he now watched for proof of in Tim’s eyes. And while from his husband there would be thirty-five proud handprints on Matt’s ass tonight, the aftercare belonged to Tim.
And that was the one to grow on.