Criminal Identity
Title: Criminal Identity
Author: kaylynnkie
Disclaimer: Not mine
Pairing: Nate/Eliot
Summary: Eliot needs some special attention from Nate, and Eliot “forgets” to tell Nate where to draw the line; Dom!Nate, sub!Eliot
Word Count: 2,870
Warnings: BDSM (hardcore strapping and power play), forgetting the safeword, self-worth issues
Notes: Written for scripps 's prompt over at comment_fic ; “Any, Any/Any, Dom/Sub relationship with Sub not using safeword because they feel they deserve to be punished. Dom explaining how risky this is and why they need to be able to trust their Sub to know their limits.”
The molted bruise on Eliot's neck didn't draw anyone's attention and that should have been the biggest of Eliot's problems, but it somehow seemed to fade into that ever larger growing category of things that he expected from other people. Nate was in the living room reading, his glasses perched on his nose and rubbed occasionally at his eyes. Eliot watched him stealthily, sneaking looks in between washing the dishes and starting dinner. He was a pro at multitasking after all. The news buzzed pleasantly in the background, a show about political strife was on a low volume and he could make out what sounded like Ann Coulter complaining about something.
“Do you think that she really believes half of what she says?”
Eliot almost dropped the gallon of milk in his hand. “Probably.”
Nate was looking at him with narrow eyes. “People aren't evil. They don't have bad intentions.”
“They're just self-serving and selfish,” he snorted.
“You're high strung today.”
A flush warmed his body and he returned to the task of pouring melted butter over the casserole crust. Acutely, he was aware of Nate's eyes on him. Nate chuckled.
“You asking for something, Eliot?”
He swallowed and chewed absentmindedly on his lower lip. For a moment, he entertained the idea of answering but decided that silence was better.
Nate reclined in the sofa and set down the book. He folded his arms in front of him, enjoying what he saw. Submissive Eliot was his favorite type of retrieval specialist, and Eliot wanted to be that right now.
“How long until dinner?”
“I can slow cook it and leave it in the oven. I can program it to shut off.”
“Do that.”
Eliot slid the shallow baking dish into the oven and closed the door then proceeded to put away the ingredients that he had been working with. He closed the refrigerator door, shut off the kitchen light and gracefully sank to his knees, shuffling over to where Nate was on the couch.
“What do you need from me? Hmm?” he mused. “Tell me.”
He nuzzled against Nate's thigh. “You. Just you.”
“Trust me?”
“Yes.”
He threaded his fingers through Eliot's hair.
“Know your word?”
“Yes.”
Nate chuckled as Eliot leaned into the touch. He tugged on the dark locks and cleared his throat.
“Word, Eliot.”
“Leverage, Sir.”
“Good boy. Bedroom.”
~
Eliot fell back against the mattress and waited for Nate to do something. Anything. The blindfold was snug against his face, a soft silk cloth that felt like a second skin to him.
“You belong to me. If I want to fuck you, then I can. If I want to spank you, chain you up, whip you, then I can. If I want you to suck me off, then you will. If you want to come, too bad.” Eliot could hear him laugh darkly. “You're my whore, slut. Nothing unless I give you worth. What are you, slut?”
“Yours, Sir.”
“And if I don't want you?”
His heart hurt at the idea. “Nothing.”
He felt a soft caress drift down his chest. “But I want you. So, you're worth everything.”
He gave a soft whimper at that and whined. Nate's hands drifted over his body, teasing the muscles and pinching at his already sore nipples. Eliot's wrists were bound above his head, attached to the headboard. Nate's comforting weight vanished for a moment and Eliot struggled against a sudden fear in his belly. All too soon, though, he felt a hand gently stroking the inside of his thigh.
“Have you been playing with yourself, pet?”
“Sir?” He hated how his voice trembled. “Fuck,” he panted, feeling a sudden intrusion at his entrance.
“Here,” Nate was saying, “is all wet and slippery. You been planning this? Did you expect me to fuck you?”
“Sir, I wanted...” he swallowed, trying to concentrate while Nate pushed two fingers in and played with the tender flesh of his most intimate place. “Wanted you to, Sir, but I didn't think...Ow!”
He gasped when Nate smacked the inside of his thigh while fucking in and out of him with two fingers. “You don't think, slut. You come ask me when you want something. Were you gonna fuck yourself?”
When Nate stayed silent for a long time, he realized that the other man was waiting for an answer.
“Yes, Sir.”
“How?”
It was easier now to talk with the blindfold and Nate's fingers inside. He felt outside of himself. Nate's. No name, no pressure. Only to do what Nate commanded.
“With my toys. The...the blue glass one you gave me to-Oh fuck! That's good!” He arched his back, desperate for touch after feeling Nate's fingers rub over his prostate. Nate pulled away.
“You want that?” he teased. “Don't want my cock inside you?”
“Sir, please!” he pleaded, feeling tears brim in his eyelid. “Not that, Sir. Not that.”
He heard Nate sigh, “Fine. Get on your knees.”
It took a few tries, but he managed to roll over and get his legs under him. The ropes binding him twisted to accommodate his new position.
“Please. Please. Please!”
The first blow resounded in Eliot's bones, and he hung his head. The pain radiated out from Nate's hand. It was superficial. Just a surface blow.
“How many do you deserve, slut?”
“Fuck. Please. I don't know. Sir, tell me.”
He heard more than felt Nate getting up and opening the chest at the foot of his bed. There was a jangling sound and then the smooth catch of leather up and down his back. Fear clutched in his chest.
“Sir?” his voice trembled as he spoke.
“Never hit you with this before,” he crooned kissing down Nate's back. “Maybe I should just fuck you first.”
Whatever it was Nate had, he set down on the bed. A blunt object pressed against Eliot's hole.
“Oh my. Look how greedy you are for it.”
Eliot fought against tears of frustration. He whined and gasped when Nate pushed, and it slid in slow and easy but the burn was unyielding.
“Ah, ah, ah, oooh!” he undulated his hips and moaned until Nate stopped pushing. “Fuck.”
Smooth he thought. It must be the glass one.
“Not yet.”
Then there were hands on him pinching his nipples until they were sharp points. He knew what was next, but he still cursed when he felt the little bits of metal bite into the tender flesh of his nipples. A sharp tug pulled on both of them and he felt it all the way in his balls.
“What do you want from me?” he asked in wonder.
Nate put one hand on his neck and pressed his lips to Eliot's. “Shh. It's alright. You ready for this?”
“Trust you,” he whispered back.
They had talked about this before. Eliot's desire to be cheapened and used. Nate's reluctance to do so.
“I just don't understand why you want to be devalued, Eliot. This is about how special you are.”
“Not special, Nate. It's just that...I need it. You know? Sometimes I need something else. Just...You don't get it.” His eyes fell, and to his mortification, he felt hot pinpricks of tears. An entirely different kind than what Nate usually conjured up in him.
Nate had stood up and cupped the back of his head. “If this is what you want, then I'll do it for you. But if it get to be too much...”
“Then I say my safeword, and it stops. I know.”
“Hey,” he teased nipping at the other man's lips. “Don't go being snarky or I'll punish you right now.”
Eliot had raised his head defiantly, and the evening had ended with him spread out across Nate's lap, his cock spent, cum drying between them and his ass and Nate's hand on fire. Nate had tugged him up and covered him with kisses.
“You're nothing, bitch,” he snarled softly into Eliot's ear. “Just a hot hole.” He brought his hand down, knocking the base of the toy.
Eliot felt the heat of the blow spread inside his belly and up to the base of his spine. He cried out and wriggled at the overwhelming stimulation.
Nate sighed in disgust. “Can't even keep still for this.” He gripped Eliot's hair in one fist and tugged. Nothing gentle in his movements. “What the hell do you think you're doing moving, slave?”
He shuddered at the word. A slave. A real slave. To be Nate's slave. It had to be that word, too, or else it didn't matter. He could be a slut or a bitch, but he wanted to be Nate's slave more than anything else. He was a criminal, a negotiator, a fagot, a failure. Tears ran down his cheeks. Slave.
“Ughn!” Sharp pain assaulted him when the glass dildo was pulled out harshly, but it was lubed, so it made the familiar plop! when it slipped free of the tight ring of muscles. KY jelly ran down his thighs. Nate added more and tested the tightness with his fingers.
“Very nice.” His other hand wiped at the tears drying on Eliot's cheeks. “Beautiful.”
Nate settled himself down behind Eliot, making sure to put pressure on his calves. I'm here the pressure said, right here. Even if Nate's voice was harsh and commanding, distracting him from that fact.
He gasped when the first blow hit him and was shrieking by the third. It was a belt. A leather belt with a buckle and a firmness that made Eliot's belly clench.
“No! No! Stop. Please. No!”
Nate pulled back slightly and for a moment, Eliot felt a surge of relief, but he cried out when Nate used his hand to rub at the raw flesh.
“Mine,” he growled and nipped at one cheek.
Eliot whined beneath him, dropping his head onto his chest. His muscles trembled and ached with exhaustion. He let his hands fall to the mattress unable to keep the position of holding onto the headboard any longer. His cock was dripping against his belly. Precome smeared across the line of his pelvis.
“Do you like this?”
Nate's wet cock was pressing against his hole, but Eliot kept still. He knew better. Nate loved to tease, and if he misbehaved Nate might not fuck him. He wanted Nate's cock.
“Sir. Yes. God yes, Sir!”
He groaned when Nate slid the tip inside of him.
“What do you say, slave?”
“Fuck! Thank you, Sir!”
Nate slid the rest of the way inside and cursed loudly when he bottomed out. “Tight, slut. You've been very good for me, haven't you. When was the last time you came?”
“When you let me, Sir.”
“Hmm,” he sighed thoughtfully, starting to thrust in and out shallowly. “Four days ago. Poor, boy. You must hurt so good.”
And it did. It hurt so damn good with Nate inside of him, the blindfold shutting out the world and the ropes burning into his flesh. His body tensed with excitement.
“Hell, Eliot. I can't. I'm going to...” he groaned low and load as he came.
He grunted. “Do it.”
The tremors of pleasure faded into a nice hum of satisfaction. Eliot was shifting underneath him, high legs shaking.
“Almost done, baby. Soon.”
He breathed deeply and swore when Nate pulled out, this time a mix of lube and come slid down his thighs. It made him feel...dirty. His ass was sore and his cock ached.
“Shit!” he cried out when the belt hit him again.
Nate didn't pause just kept the blows steady and even. Eliot shook, tears leaking out of his eyes, which were screwed shut.
“Don't,” he whispered. “No!”
Nate rubbed his hand over the knobby protrude at the back of Eliot's neck. “You need-”
“No,” he growled. “More.”
He needed this, deserved it. God, he was always so bad. Nate wouldn't want him if he knew. Worthless. Slap! Useless. Slap! Stupid. Slap!
Just a country boy with low self esteem.
“Eliot,” there was a soothing caress over his chest. “Come back to me, sweetheart. Come back.”
He sniffled miserably, sobbing against Nate's chest. The blindfold was gone, but he wouldn't open his eyes. Couldn't. He didn't know when the strapping had stopped.
“Too much light.”
“I shut off the lamp. C'mon. Open your eyes for me, love.”
He did. Slowly though. The dark silhouette of Nate swam into view. He didn't mean to, but he clung to the other man, sobbing brokenly now.
“D-d-d-don't...don't be mad. Please, don't be mad?”
Nate closed his eyes and held him close. “Not mad, sweetheart. Let's clean you up.”
~
He left Eliot soaking in the tub after the other man had promised he wouldn't drown in the water and changed the bedding. He put away their toys after sanitizing them.
“Shit,” he breathed out shakily and rubbed his hands over his eyes.
Eliot had promised him! Promised that when it got to be too much, he would say so, stop him from really hurting, but when he had reached down between his legs and felt soft flesh instead of....
“Hey.”
“We have to talk.”
The other man looked uncomfortable. “Can I get dressed?” His grip was tight on the towel.
“We're not...” he meant to say 'in a scene,' but Eliot was looking up at him with such trust. “Alright. I'll get some of that casserole you were making, and I'll go wait in the living room. Okay?”
He left Eliot in the bedroom looking broken and ashamed when he wanted to do nothing more than gather him close and tell him that he was too much. Nate didn't deserve him.
When he sat down, though with two plates of amazing smelling chicken and pastry, he cursed. He hadn't gotten-
“I got a fork.” Eliot held up the silverware. “Well, I got two.”
He smiled and gestured for Eliot to sit next to him.
“How you feeling?”
“Little sore.”
“I expected as much. Eliot-”
“Don't.” He set down the forks and nuzzled against Nate's neck. “Don't lecture me. I ain't a child.”
“Then I don't have to tell you to stop acting like one! Why didn't you say your word?”
“I was fine!”
“I'm your lover. Not just your master. It's a two way street between you and me. I can't test your limits if you don't tell me where they are.”
“I just...” Needed? “deserved it.”
“No. You don't deserve to be beaten. This is about us. What we need together, as a team.”
“I'm bad, though.”
“You aren't bad.”
“But-”
“My slave, right?”
He blushed red. “Yes, Sir.”
“Then my rules. You are what I say you are.”
“But I needed to be-”
Nate's eyes widened. “Was I...” he drifted off, a look of horror on his face. “Did you let me rape you, Eliot?”
“No! You didn't do anything like that. Nate, stop it!” He grabbed Nate's hands and pressed his lips against his master's knuckles. “I just wanted to be...worthy.”
“Eliot, if I can't trust you to set the limits, then I can't do what...what you need me to do. You can't ever do that again!” He touched two fingers to the bruises on his neck. “This from me, too?”
He shook his head. “Bar fight. Guy got on top of me. You didn't notice.”
“Thought you were cheating on me,” he chuckled. “You'd never do that, though. Eliot,” he said softly, “I love you.”
“No, Nate. No.”
“I love you,” he continued. “With all of my heart, and you have to stop hurting yourself, baby. Don't let anyone hurt you. Not me, not yourself, no one.”
“Nate, I'm just a criminal, remember? A thief. That ain't you. Me and you...We don't fit, baby.”
Nate gripped his chin. “You don't believe that. You just want someone to tell you that you don't matter, but I won't do it. Never. You hear me?” He slid down to his knees. “I love you, don't you understand? I love you!”
He sniffled. “I love you, too, Sir.”
Nate kissed his cheek. “Of course you do. Don't ever bite off more than you can chew like that again.”
“I'll use my safeword. I promise.” He sighed. “I promise.”
“Eat. You spent all this time cooking it. Eat up.”
He put on the nightly news and when Eliot reclined against him, the chicken tasted that much better.
*Comments are love!*
Author: kaylynnkie
Disclaimer: Not mine
Pairing: Nate/Eliot
Summary: Eliot needs some special attention from Nate, and Eliot “forgets” to tell Nate where to draw the line; Dom!Nate, sub!Eliot
Word Count: 2,870
Warnings: BDSM (hardcore strapping and power play), forgetting the safeword, self-worth issues
Notes: Written for scripps 's prompt over at comment_fic ; “Any, Any/Any, Dom/Sub relationship with Sub not using safeword because they feel they deserve to be punished. Dom explaining how risky this is and why they need to be able to trust their Sub to know their limits.”
The molted bruise on Eliot's neck didn't draw anyone's attention and that should have been the biggest of Eliot's problems, but it somehow seemed to fade into that ever larger growing category of things that he expected from other people. Nate was in the living room reading, his glasses perched on his nose and rubbed occasionally at his eyes. Eliot watched him stealthily, sneaking looks in between washing the dishes and starting dinner. He was a pro at multitasking after all. The news buzzed pleasantly in the background, a show about political strife was on a low volume and he could make out what sounded like Ann Coulter complaining about something.
“Do you think that she really believes half of what she says?”
Eliot almost dropped the gallon of milk in his hand. “Probably.”
Nate was looking at him with narrow eyes. “People aren't evil. They don't have bad intentions.”
“They're just self-serving and selfish,” he snorted.
“You're high strung today.”
A flush warmed his body and he returned to the task of pouring melted butter over the casserole crust. Acutely, he was aware of Nate's eyes on him. Nate chuckled.
“You asking for something, Eliot?”
He swallowed and chewed absentmindedly on his lower lip. For a moment, he entertained the idea of answering but decided that silence was better.
Nate reclined in the sofa and set down the book. He folded his arms in front of him, enjoying what he saw. Submissive Eliot was his favorite type of retrieval specialist, and Eliot wanted to be that right now.
“How long until dinner?”
“I can slow cook it and leave it in the oven. I can program it to shut off.”
“Do that.”
Eliot slid the shallow baking dish into the oven and closed the door then proceeded to put away the ingredients that he had been working with. He closed the refrigerator door, shut off the kitchen light and gracefully sank to his knees, shuffling over to where Nate was on the couch.
“What do you need from me? Hmm?” he mused. “Tell me.”
He nuzzled against Nate's thigh. “You. Just you.”
“Trust me?”
“Yes.”
He threaded his fingers through Eliot's hair.
“Know your word?”
“Yes.”
Nate chuckled as Eliot leaned into the touch. He tugged on the dark locks and cleared his throat.
“Word, Eliot.”
“Leverage, Sir.”
“Good boy. Bedroom.”
~
Eliot fell back against the mattress and waited for Nate to do something. Anything. The blindfold was snug against his face, a soft silk cloth that felt like a second skin to him.
“You belong to me. If I want to fuck you, then I can. If I want to spank you, chain you up, whip you, then I can. If I want you to suck me off, then you will. If you want to come, too bad.” Eliot could hear him laugh darkly. “You're my whore, slut. Nothing unless I give you worth. What are you, slut?”
“Yours, Sir.”
“And if I don't want you?”
His heart hurt at the idea. “Nothing.”
He felt a soft caress drift down his chest. “But I want you. So, you're worth everything.”
He gave a soft whimper at that and whined. Nate's hands drifted over his body, teasing the muscles and pinching at his already sore nipples. Eliot's wrists were bound above his head, attached to the headboard. Nate's comforting weight vanished for a moment and Eliot struggled against a sudden fear in his belly. All too soon, though, he felt a hand gently stroking the inside of his thigh.
“Have you been playing with yourself, pet?”
“Sir?” He hated how his voice trembled. “Fuck,” he panted, feeling a sudden intrusion at his entrance.
“Here,” Nate was saying, “is all wet and slippery. You been planning this? Did you expect me to fuck you?”
“Sir, I wanted...” he swallowed, trying to concentrate while Nate pushed two fingers in and played with the tender flesh of his most intimate place. “Wanted you to, Sir, but I didn't think...Ow!”
He gasped when Nate smacked the inside of his thigh while fucking in and out of him with two fingers. “You don't think, slut. You come ask me when you want something. Were you gonna fuck yourself?”
When Nate stayed silent for a long time, he realized that the other man was waiting for an answer.
“Yes, Sir.”
“How?”
It was easier now to talk with the blindfold and Nate's fingers inside. He felt outside of himself. Nate's. No name, no pressure. Only to do what Nate commanded.
“With my toys. The...the blue glass one you gave me to-Oh fuck! That's good!” He arched his back, desperate for touch after feeling Nate's fingers rub over his prostate. Nate pulled away.
“You want that?” he teased. “Don't want my cock inside you?”
“Sir, please!” he pleaded, feeling tears brim in his eyelid. “Not that, Sir. Not that.”
He heard Nate sigh, “Fine. Get on your knees.”
It took a few tries, but he managed to roll over and get his legs under him. The ropes binding him twisted to accommodate his new position.
“Please. Please. Please!”
The first blow resounded in Eliot's bones, and he hung his head. The pain radiated out from Nate's hand. It was superficial. Just a surface blow.
“How many do you deserve, slut?”
“Fuck. Please. I don't know. Sir, tell me.”
He heard more than felt Nate getting up and opening the chest at the foot of his bed. There was a jangling sound and then the smooth catch of leather up and down his back. Fear clutched in his chest.
“Sir?” his voice trembled as he spoke.
“Never hit you with this before,” he crooned kissing down Nate's back. “Maybe I should just fuck you first.”
Whatever it was Nate had, he set down on the bed. A blunt object pressed against Eliot's hole.
“Oh my. Look how greedy you are for it.”
Eliot fought against tears of frustration. He whined and gasped when Nate pushed, and it slid in slow and easy but the burn was unyielding.
“Ah, ah, ah, oooh!” he undulated his hips and moaned until Nate stopped pushing. “Fuck.”
Smooth he thought. It must be the glass one.
“Not yet.”
Then there were hands on him pinching his nipples until they were sharp points. He knew what was next, but he still cursed when he felt the little bits of metal bite into the tender flesh of his nipples. A sharp tug pulled on both of them and he felt it all the way in his balls.
“What do you want from me?” he asked in wonder.
Nate put one hand on his neck and pressed his lips to Eliot's. “Shh. It's alright. You ready for this?”
“Trust you,” he whispered back.
They had talked about this before. Eliot's desire to be cheapened and used. Nate's reluctance to do so.
“I just don't understand why you want to be devalued, Eliot. This is about how special you are.”
“Not special, Nate. It's just that...I need it. You know? Sometimes I need something else. Just...You don't get it.” His eyes fell, and to his mortification, he felt hot pinpricks of tears. An entirely different kind than what Nate usually conjured up in him.
Nate had stood up and cupped the back of his head. “If this is what you want, then I'll do it for you. But if it get to be too much...”
“Then I say my safeword, and it stops. I know.”
“Hey,” he teased nipping at the other man's lips. “Don't go being snarky or I'll punish you right now.”
Eliot had raised his head defiantly, and the evening had ended with him spread out across Nate's lap, his cock spent, cum drying between them and his ass and Nate's hand on fire. Nate had tugged him up and covered him with kisses.
“You're nothing, bitch,” he snarled softly into Eliot's ear. “Just a hot hole.” He brought his hand down, knocking the base of the toy.
Eliot felt the heat of the blow spread inside his belly and up to the base of his spine. He cried out and wriggled at the overwhelming stimulation.
Nate sighed in disgust. “Can't even keep still for this.” He gripped Eliot's hair in one fist and tugged. Nothing gentle in his movements. “What the hell do you think you're doing moving, slave?”
He shuddered at the word. A slave. A real slave. To be Nate's slave. It had to be that word, too, or else it didn't matter. He could be a slut or a bitch, but he wanted to be Nate's slave more than anything else. He was a criminal, a negotiator, a fagot, a failure. Tears ran down his cheeks. Slave.
“Ughn!” Sharp pain assaulted him when the glass dildo was pulled out harshly, but it was lubed, so it made the familiar plop! when it slipped free of the tight ring of muscles. KY jelly ran down his thighs. Nate added more and tested the tightness with his fingers.
“Very nice.” His other hand wiped at the tears drying on Eliot's cheeks. “Beautiful.”
Nate settled himself down behind Eliot, making sure to put pressure on his calves. I'm here the pressure said, right here. Even if Nate's voice was harsh and commanding, distracting him from that fact.
He gasped when the first blow hit him and was shrieking by the third. It was a belt. A leather belt with a buckle and a firmness that made Eliot's belly clench.
“No! No! Stop. Please. No!”
Nate pulled back slightly and for a moment, Eliot felt a surge of relief, but he cried out when Nate used his hand to rub at the raw flesh.
“Mine,” he growled and nipped at one cheek.
Eliot whined beneath him, dropping his head onto his chest. His muscles trembled and ached with exhaustion. He let his hands fall to the mattress unable to keep the position of holding onto the headboard any longer. His cock was dripping against his belly. Precome smeared across the line of his pelvis.
“Do you like this?”
Nate's wet cock was pressing against his hole, but Eliot kept still. He knew better. Nate loved to tease, and if he misbehaved Nate might not fuck him. He wanted Nate's cock.
“Sir. Yes. God yes, Sir!”
He groaned when Nate slid the tip inside of him.
“What do you say, slave?”
“Fuck! Thank you, Sir!”
Nate slid the rest of the way inside and cursed loudly when he bottomed out. “Tight, slut. You've been very good for me, haven't you. When was the last time you came?”
“When you let me, Sir.”
“Hmm,” he sighed thoughtfully, starting to thrust in and out shallowly. “Four days ago. Poor, boy. You must hurt so good.”
And it did. It hurt so damn good with Nate inside of him, the blindfold shutting out the world and the ropes burning into his flesh. His body tensed with excitement.
“Hell, Eliot. I can't. I'm going to...” he groaned low and load as he came.
He grunted. “Do it.”
The tremors of pleasure faded into a nice hum of satisfaction. Eliot was shifting underneath him, high legs shaking.
“Almost done, baby. Soon.”
He breathed deeply and swore when Nate pulled out, this time a mix of lube and come slid down his thighs. It made him feel...dirty. His ass was sore and his cock ached.
“Shit!” he cried out when the belt hit him again.
Nate didn't pause just kept the blows steady and even. Eliot shook, tears leaking out of his eyes, which were screwed shut.
“Don't,” he whispered. “No!”
Nate rubbed his hand over the knobby protrude at the back of Eliot's neck. “You need-”
“No,” he growled. “More.”
He needed this, deserved it. God, he was always so bad. Nate wouldn't want him if he knew. Worthless. Slap! Useless. Slap! Stupid. Slap!
Just a country boy with low self esteem.
“Eliot,” there was a soothing caress over his chest. “Come back to me, sweetheart. Come back.”
He sniffled miserably, sobbing against Nate's chest. The blindfold was gone, but he wouldn't open his eyes. Couldn't. He didn't know when the strapping had stopped.
“Too much light.”
“I shut off the lamp. C'mon. Open your eyes for me, love.”
He did. Slowly though. The dark silhouette of Nate swam into view. He didn't mean to, but he clung to the other man, sobbing brokenly now.
“D-d-d-don't...don't be mad. Please, don't be mad?”
Nate closed his eyes and held him close. “Not mad, sweetheart. Let's clean you up.”
~
He left Eliot soaking in the tub after the other man had promised he wouldn't drown in the water and changed the bedding. He put away their toys after sanitizing them.
“Shit,” he breathed out shakily and rubbed his hands over his eyes.
Eliot had promised him! Promised that when it got to be too much, he would say so, stop him from really hurting, but when he had reached down between his legs and felt soft flesh instead of....
“Hey.”
“We have to talk.”
The other man looked uncomfortable. “Can I get dressed?” His grip was tight on the towel.
“We're not...” he meant to say 'in a scene,' but Eliot was looking up at him with such trust. “Alright. I'll get some of that casserole you were making, and I'll go wait in the living room. Okay?”
He left Eliot in the bedroom looking broken and ashamed when he wanted to do nothing more than gather him close and tell him that he was too much. Nate didn't deserve him.
When he sat down, though with two plates of amazing smelling chicken and pastry, he cursed. He hadn't gotten-
“I got a fork.” Eliot held up the silverware. “Well, I got two.”
He smiled and gestured for Eliot to sit next to him.
“How you feeling?”
“Little sore.”
“I expected as much. Eliot-”
“Don't.” He set down the forks and nuzzled against Nate's neck. “Don't lecture me. I ain't a child.”
“Then I don't have to tell you to stop acting like one! Why didn't you say your word?”
“I was fine!”
“I'm your lover. Not just your master. It's a two way street between you and me. I can't test your limits if you don't tell me where they are.”
“I just...” Needed? “deserved it.”
“No. You don't deserve to be beaten. This is about us. What we need together, as a team.”
“I'm bad, though.”
“You aren't bad.”
“But-”
“My slave, right?”
He blushed red. “Yes, Sir.”
“Then my rules. You are what I say you are.”
“But I needed to be-”
Nate's eyes widened. “Was I...” he drifted off, a look of horror on his face. “Did you let me rape you, Eliot?”
“No! You didn't do anything like that. Nate, stop it!” He grabbed Nate's hands and pressed his lips against his master's knuckles. “I just wanted to be...worthy.”
“Eliot, if I can't trust you to set the limits, then I can't do what...what you need me to do. You can't ever do that again!” He touched two fingers to the bruises on his neck. “This from me, too?”
He shook his head. “Bar fight. Guy got on top of me. You didn't notice.”
“Thought you were cheating on me,” he chuckled. “You'd never do that, though. Eliot,” he said softly, “I love you.”
“No, Nate. No.”
“I love you,” he continued. “With all of my heart, and you have to stop hurting yourself, baby. Don't let anyone hurt you. Not me, not yourself, no one.”
“Nate, I'm just a criminal, remember? A thief. That ain't you. Me and you...We don't fit, baby.”
Nate gripped his chin. “You don't believe that. You just want someone to tell you that you don't matter, but I won't do it. Never. You hear me?” He slid down to his knees. “I love you, don't you understand? I love you!”
He sniffled. “I love you, too, Sir.”
Nate kissed his cheek. “Of course you do. Don't ever bite off more than you can chew like that again.”
“I'll use my safeword. I promise.” He sighed. “I promise.”
“Eat. You spent all this time cooking it. Eat up.”
He put on the nightly news and when Eliot reclined against him, the chicken tasted that much better.
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