He looked back at Leon while he moved behind him but there wasn't any use to responding when everything Leon said was true. He was easily absorbed by the contact between them, his thoughts seeping away, and it felt too hard to separate what was him and what was this man when he was caught in him like this. Whether this was a continuation of before or wanting him more, it didn't matter enough while Leon's hand dictated the motion of his own and reminded him of the reasons why he took steps back away when it got too overwhelming between them. He wanted to lean against him and not feel anything else but the yoke of Leon's interest.
"I haven't lost," he answered, wishing he could hold back the way lust and pleasure wound tightly around each other and came hard with Leon's arm caging him in, because fuck if it didn't always feel more intense when this man was touching him, and it made even attempting to get off a painful reiteration of everything he already knew. His fingers tightened around his cock and he would have shaken Leon's hand off except he doubted the man would leave it alone. He could feel it in man's mouth at his shoulder and then at his neck, catching him unaware with the bite.
He came a moment after, messy and hard and still feeling every bit cheated with it. He forgot he was trying to get away though and half wanted to smear his semen on the other man's arm and lick it off his skin.
His teeth dug in again when Matt came like he wanted to drink in the pleasure, his hand working Matt's hand hard over his cock. It was another mess to leave on the bed where they'd already smeared all the traces of themselves, grappling and fucking, and for a while he lay still just to feel it and to feel what Matt was like after coming. He was swelled again, his cock shoved against the man's thigh. He gripped him in secure arms, implacable hands, keeping them together while he sucked patiently at the bruise he'd bitten into the skin of his neck to darken it.
He pushed the man onto his stomach at last, dragged his free hand behind his back again. The game could have ended here but some lusting, marauding part of him was still caught in it and treating this man like his prize was so fucking good. There was never any end to the games they played. There was just action and repercussion, his hands holding Matt's wrists together while he tied the belt around him again, as secure as he could make it. He leaned down when he was done to drag his mouth across the man's shoulder blade and then drew back.
"You've done things to me I can't recover from." He spoke as though they were continuing a conversation while he caught Matt's ankles and bound them together with the cuffs. There were memories that lurked on the edge of madness and he put walls between them and him to keep from falling through. "So why the fuck shouldn't I try to break you? It's too fucking lonely not to." Another leather strap wound over Matt's mouth. He tied it off at the back of his head and then sat back on his knees and looked at him, running a hand down his thigh.
He went too easily but then he always did. There was always something viciously dark about being tied up, the helplessness that came with it, and he could never get enough of the filth involved with this man. Or maybe it was the filth of the world in general. The hotel seemed so disconnected from the world he remembered but it was the same filth, perhaps drawn out, as if the thoughts he had here were only the echoes of the ones he'd had before. He'd never acted on them there but he'd grown up with consequence written on the walls. If he didn't do anything here he'd go insane, the stretches of days losing themselves in the inactivity and the hopelessness of lust.
It felt like something he'd been expecting anyway. "You wanted it at all," he said, not knowing if it was true or not but deciding it should be. "I don't need you in the same way." The leather closed over his mouth and he stiffened, hating the feel of it already. He didn't want to be broken, not really, it was too pathetic to break. But he liked the thrill that moved through him when he could feel the weight of Leon's eyes on him like this and he wanted to jostle the order of things so that it wouldn't proceed neatly. Maybe he wanted to make Leon angry too but the thought only lived in theory.
Pulling at his wrists only showed him how trapped they were and he twisted to his side as if to throw off Leon's touch, though maybe he meant to throw himself over the edge of the bed too, he didn't know what the fuck he wanted other than to get the leather strap off his mouth so he could tell Leon that he'd already been put together wrong and he couldn't take going through it again.
Maybe he had wanted it, maybe it wasn't enough to have lust pulled out of him in such agonizing ways until it felt like there would be nothing left of him. Maybe torture was something he needed too, pain to rip up his insides and leave a mess of him where a man had once been. But maybe it was Matt's certainty playing with his mind, inventing need, bringing things swelled and bloated and ugly out of the darkness and forcing them into Leon with implications of how good it was, how much he wanted it. He didn't know. He didn't know how much of his mind was his anymore or how much of it was this man's to fuck with and use. His hand caressed his hair and he caught Matt as he twisted away from him, patiently, to pull him back.
"I can make you need me." He bent down to get his upper arm under Matt's waist, to hoist him up over his shoulder. His free hand rubbed taunting over the back of the man's thigh, smacking against the flesh. "It's too fucking easy when you want to give in to everything I do to you." He got to his feet with the man slung over his shoulder, one of his hands curved against his thigh to keep him steady and he wondered how it could be possible for him to feel any more like his possession. If there were any better way to make this man belong to him than to carry him to bed over his shoulder like so much plunder.
And Matt had been right before, this wasn't his bed so it wasn't the same. The game necessitated finding his own. He took the sword before he left but nothing else, carrying it sheathed in his free hand out into the hall, Matt's weight a burden but not one he couldn't handle. Even here his nakedness and Matt's nakedness felt brazen but he didn't care. The hotel's corridors were mostly empty of trick or treaters now--probably paired up and gone off to find rooms of their own--but there were a few stragglers in strange costumes to stand at the side of the hall and stare at them both. It made him remember how Matt had left him tied up to be used by anyone who passed, and he wondered briefly what it might be like to watch strangers line up to have a turn at this man but he knew he couldn't tolerate it. His obsession was too proprietary. He wanted Matt to feel him and no one else.
He went still when Leon pulled him over his shoulder and it was so fucking ridiculous. Everything this man did made him feel like he was going to die with Leon's touch scraping through him. The light of the hallway was almost blinding after the dark of his room and he stiffened, any protest already smothered away, and he was glad he didn't know anyone enough to be recognized like this. His hips shifted forward against Leon's shoulder and falling didn't seem like a better option than being carried like he weighed nothing down the hall. The fact that he didn't want to need Leon didn't seem to matter.
He hated every second of the insinuation this drew but at the same time, he did want to give in. Every single fucking time, he didn't know how to stop wanting these moments between them. It was too baring though to be nothing but a body slung over Leon's shoulder and ever step reminded him of how he couldn't touch him. His arm were uncomfortable while pulled behind him and it made him feel impotent and stupid and they were both things he didn't like to feel.
His head didn't lift and he didn't look at any of the stragglers in the hall, not wanting them to exist in a world where it was meant just to be the two of them, needing and not needing.
Matt shifting on his shoulder and the discomfort he could feel like a current through his body reminded him of why he was doing this, how much he wanted to feel the other man's helplessness because it seemed like only by stripping him down to bare need could he make him acknowledge what they meant to each other. He knew this was humiliating for him but that wouldn't make him stop. It wasn't the point to humiliate him, anyway, it was only the means to make him feel something that wouldn't be denied or pushed away. His arm circled Matt's hips and held him secure as he carried him to the room in the hotel that he thought of as his. He never bothered to try to lock it; no one was ever there when he went anyway, as though the sparsity of it drove away anyone seeking a place to sleep or fuck.
The place was different from how he'd left it. The red sheets of the bed were gone and in their place were coverings that looked primitive and woven, like tapestries instead of blankets, and candles burning on the furniture. Like Matt trying to make a spaceship out of his room the hotel had created this parody for him, for the warrior he was supposed to be. He stood in the threshold and looked at it for a moment, his eyes wandering over the furnishings illuminated by flickering light. And then he went inside, with Matt a prisoner over his shoulder and the room made up like a cell to bring him back to, lay him against the weavings and claim him all over again.
He eased him down to the bed on his side, running a hand over his thigh again and watching the way the light flickered over his bare skin. Watching how he looked gagged and bound, so utterly fucking helpless. How he looked lying across Leon's bed now. His fingers ran over his ass, eased between his legs to fondle his balls. He rubbed them idly for a few moments, kneading with the palm of his hand before getting up again, moving away from the bed.
He didn't notice any of the changes but the one of sheets beneath him. It even smelled different, everything decadent about the bed having changed into something savage instead. But he was distracted by Leon's hand going to his balls as if he didn't know the meaning of letting go, resentment striking at the way his body found it so goddamn easy to respond. He wanted him, even when he told himself he wouldn't, even when it felt like he'd wanted him too much already to keep wanting more. The fact that he wasn't on Leon's shoulder now didn't make anything better, he still felt as displaced as he had in his own room earlier. This holiday was a joke, just like the rest of the hotel.
It was a joke but he was still helplessly aware of how Leon moved away. It was impossible to stop searching for him. He tensed, anticipation feeling like one of those things that could manage to crawl both over and under the skin. It was knotting his guts up and squeezing at his lungs because all Leon did was tear him apart. Being tied up while he did it just made him feel it more vividly. Swallowing back his need for this man was a temporary pretense and he jerked himself back on his arms, staring at the room and then ignoring it. It wasn't like the decorations could do more to emphasis how fucking brutish Leon had looked when he'd been first standing at Matt's door. The man's clothes were gone but he still carried the costume on him like a taint.
He tried indifference when meeting Leon's eyes too, even while struggling to sit up. He stopped a moment later because all he was doing was dragging the bedding out of place and he hated exerting so much energy for nothing. Instead he threw the man's name back at him in thoughts, wondering if he concentrated on it enough if the man would come back and let him go.
The wardrobe drew him irresistibly and he wanted to see what changes had been wrought inside it, if the collection of toys had gone because they didn't fit the atmosphere or if they were still there. There were things inside, but not what he was used to: whips, chains and manacles, weapons, clothes. Everything with a primitive and brutish air. He found another belt and took it, folding it over like a strap in his hand. There was a clay pot of what seemed to be the same blue war paint that was written all over his skin, and another of some scentless oil, thick and amber-colored. He took those too, turning to meet Matt's eyes as he struggled to sit up on the bed.
Leon watched him sink back again as though giving up and then he approached, slowly, the candlelight flickering over them both and his mind full of this man, his body pulsing with the awareness of him. He thought of what it would have been like to fight him in ancient combat, to batter his weapons from his hands, to shove him down to the ground and strip him of armor and clothing, bind him and take him captive. Maybe he would have fucked him for the first time right there, on their battlefield, on the dirt churned by feet and blood. When he reached the bedside he put the oil and the paint aside, keeping the belt in hand. His fingers slid into Matt's hair, gripping the strands of it. He turned the man's face up to him and leaned down to lick at his cheek.
Drawing back, he turned the man over onto his stomach and grabbed a pillow to shove it underneath his hips. His hand held the nape of his neck for a moment, pinning him down, and then he let it run down his spine in a long caress, over his ass, one of his thighs. He lifted the belt and brought it down across the backs of his thighs in a light swat. Then again, a little harder.
It was impossible to see what the other man was looking at but he took in the sight of what he carried as soon as he turned back, attempting to keep his curiosity from leaking into the space between them. The primal feel of the room was working its way through him, and he didn't know how to play roles enough to understand what the other man saw when he looked at him. He wanted to understand, it was just too fucking hard, and then Leon was closing in anyway and it didn't matter what he was thinking because the man was pulling his hair up to lick him, bringing his irritation back to the surface with it. He wondered briefly if Leon would ever believe him if he attempted to tell him he didn't want him. It didn't feel possible to ever dislike the way this man touched him, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway because he couldn't voice the words.
He attempted to stay put while Leon turned him around but it was a pitiful attempt, even if the other man hadn't been completely capable of dictating where he wanted him. His breath caught with the pillow pushed in beneath him and the caress that followed was rough and he didn't know how to stop responding or wanting these moments to keep going on until he couldn't sense anything else.
There was too much that was different from the last time. It was obnoxious not to be able to watch the other man, to have nothing but apprehension tiptoeing over his skin while he lay there and felt Leon's gaze and the edges coating every second that existed before the belt hit. He shouldn't have been surprised but he was. The sound was smothered against the strap around his mouth but it came again a moment, a little more strangled, when the belt hit him again and his knees were already digging into the mattress to work himself off the pillow despite the way it was always going to thrill him to have this man drive him to his knees. Maybe it was because of it that he didn't want to stand it. He'd done this to people before, both consciously and in the little realities the hotel spawned for them, but he wasn't used to being the one caught in place.
These moments connected them. He didn't think they would be anything without the ability to torment one another, and he didn't know why he wanted so badly to make Matt vulnerable and helpless every chance he could, this game that kept cycling back to the same points between them. It was the only way to feel close enough. They weren't so different from one another in essentials. He touched Matt's hip, watching the way the man writhed against the pillow for a moment before he leaned down to press his mouth where his hand had been, his tongue lathing the place for a moment. Then he drew back and cracked the belt across the backs of his thighs again.
It raised a flush that time, redness in his pale skin and he touched the place to feel the heat in it, then took his hand away and smacked his ass. Again, again after that, the blows spaced apart as though to be unpredictable, his eyes on Matt at every moment and he wondered if the man could feel the weight of his gaze. Could feel how attracted to him Leon was, to the sight of his wrists bound behind his back and his hips working against the pillow, the redness in his skin and the faint weals on his ass cheeks as he kept bringing the belt down across them. The smack of sound was a rhythmic pulse in the room. He circled around the bed and the man stretched out on it, striking him from different angles. Now and again he paused a while to let him breathe, sitting on the edge of the mattress and caressing his thigh in his free hand.
At one point he laid the belt aside on the mattress and brought a hand to his ass to spread him open, licking his fingers before he pushed them slowly inside him. He worked them in, his eyes resting on that vulnerable place at the nape of his neck as though his gaze could be enough to hold him in place. He was so fucking hard, aroused to unbearable degrees by the sounds Matt had made while he was whipping him, the way he'd moved. He wanted to fuck him then but he didn't want to stop yet, didn't want to stop making Matt aware of his helplessness at every fucking moment.
He grasped him abruptly and pulled him off the pillow and slung him over his lap instead, facedown, his erection digging into the man's stomach. His hand on his ass again for a moment, caressing, then lifting away to smack him hard, with an open palm.
Any sound he tried to make was just lost inside his mouth and he was seething on the pillow, each of the blows feeling like a taunt with the teasing uncertainty behind them. He was tense and the idea of holding still was a joke when he couldn't stop jerking when the belt landed, even if he wanted to be able to take this. Each muffled sound he made was pathetic and he might have thought he could take this at first but the resolve shattered with the next blow and the next. The thought of rolling away was prominent on his mind but Leon could easily drag him back and he didn't want to look ridiculous. As if he didn't already look ridiculous while the belt seemed to catch him from every direction and infuriate with pauses that followed with strokes of Leon's hand.
He was offering a litany of fucks inside his head when Leon held him spread him open though and he shuddered violently when the man's fingers pushed inside of him. Everything Leon did could easily destroy him and he hated him for it. He hated how easy it was to feel lust for him and to want more of this. He didn't want to feel more, didn't want to feel the way Leon's eyes moved over him, his entire body twisting while the man fucked him with his fingers. The touch made him feel more than the burn of the belt had and he pushed back into it, even if it didn't last long and Leon was pulling him off the pillow and on his lap.
It only took that first smack to electrify and choke his breath off. He forced his way to his knees, shoving Leon with his shoulder, and he didn't want to feel that. Lust had shoveled deep inside him and he could feel it in his balls and in his cock, a breath that was more a shiver and a pounding of his pulse that made him feel more aware than he wanted to be. The belt had been impersonal at least, this was too close, and if running away was too embarrassing, he turned to distraction instead, turning to press Leon against the bed even if there was no way to hold him down but with his weight.
His hands caught around Matt's arms as the man pushed himself up against him and he pulled him in to caress his face with his mouth, kisses brushed aimlessly over his brow, his eyes, his cheeks, even the band over his mouth. His fingers slid into his hair and he pulled him forward until their foreheads pressed together. "I'm not finished with you yet," he murmured, but he didn't feel any hurry to shove him down to his lap again; hands ran over his back, caressing, as he resisted Matt's efforts to push him over. It wasn't difficult. The man had no power to leverage against him, not even words, and there was some part of him that wanted to keep him this way forever, always bound, always waiting for Leon's cock. His voice smothered against the gag while he was being fucked.
"You said something once. It has to hurt to mean anything." He'd heard those words more than once, or some variation of them; the sentiment was everything their relationship seemed to mean. He licked at Matt's cheek and then turned him in his hands and pushed him down again. Facedown like he'd been, one of his hands resting at the nape of his neck and the other running over his ass and thighs, stroking for a few moments before he lifted his hand away and struck him again. Desire twisted in him with every way he touched this man. He smacked him again, again, holding him pinned, and he was drowning in it, wanting to make Matt take more than he could stand so that they might drown together.
Lust was a monster in him. He stopped and slid a hand between Matt's thighs to cup his balls, squeezing him lightly, and every caress was a new and separate attempt to possess him. His fingers gripped roughly in his hair, then let go to undo the tie of the gag with brusque jerks.
The touches were goddamn teases, taunting him with their fleeting caress.
The fact that it had to hurt meant shit to him now because he never meant to be the one in a situation like this. The fact that it was Leon doing this to him only made it more excruciatingly because it made him want this even while his mind was refusing to accept it. Being dragged down over Leon's thighs was too baring and he was breathing too hard and close to whining while the man smacked the welts the belt had left on his skin. If he attempted to edge away, he was just rubbing against Leon's lap, the helplessness in this emphasized by how he was held down by the back of the neck. Tension seemed to have filled him completely and he was inhaling more of it in with every slap of Leon's hand on his ass. Choking on a moan behind the strap, he felt distorted by his own need to be torn apart by this man in simple gestures.
The sensation only intensified with Leon's hand cupping his balls. It felt like his limbs were going to melt with his desire for the man but that made it more disgusting too because he couldn't stand how fucking pathetic he was. Being freed from the strap around his mouth only made it more obvious because strangling the attempt to beg didn't make it less obvious that he wanted to. "You proved your point," he told Leon after a moment and his voice didn't feel familiar enough. "Now let go. I don't want it to mean more than this." His shoulders ached from how his arms were held behind him and the way he couldn't relax. Leaving didn't really feel like an option but then he didn't know what did. Staying on Leon's lap was impossible but moving off was just as fucking hard. His knees dug into the mattress and his hips lifted but he couldn't pull away completely while Leon held on to his hair. His prick was hard against him and he needed this man but that meant shit.
Everything was an enchantment. Everything about the man beneath him allured him impossibly and he couldn't stop running hands over him when he wasn't striking him, couldn't help smacking him again when the caresses became too much to bear. He let Matt dig knees into the mattress and lift himself up just so he could grasp his hip and push him down again. He was remembering the sounds the man had made when it was his hand hitting him and not the belt, how the timber of his voice had been different. His hips writhing against Leon's thigh. His erection was monstrously thick, swelled and engorged against Matt's stomach and Leon stared at his red sore ass and wanted to pound it until the man was begging.
"You don't want me to let you go," he told him, low and tense, his hand closing again on the nape of his neck to pin him there. "You need this. You need me to fuck you until you can't think anymore." He thought of pushing him down onto the mattress again and spreading him open to tongue his asshole but instead he reached over him for the pot of blue war paint he'd found in the wardrobe. "I want to hear you say it."
He dipped forefingers into it experimentally. The paint was wet and cool and it dripped against Matt's skin in the moments before he put his fingers to the center of his back. It made a vivid swath, a straight arrow down his back where his fingers traced and he watched the blue of it staining Matt's skin, thought briefly of writing his name on him but that could only be redundant. Instead he dipped his fingers again and ran them along his ass crack. "Tell me you need me to fuck you." Paint-wet fingers slid between his legs to fondle his balls again, smearing them with color and thought of painting his cock entirely blue. "It won't cost you anything to say it." He wanted it to, though. He wanted to feel every part of this man resisting the urge to beg him and then he wanted to feed lust into him until he couldn't take it anymore, until he broke under the weight of need and begging was all that was left to him. There was no running away, there was no choice in it. There was just feeling and more feeling, Matt's body hot and tense across his thighs, paint sliding wet down his palm and he smacked his ass again for the satisfaction of the handprint it left in blue.
His eyes shut tightly and getting a hold of himself felt like something completely out of his control. It didn't stop him from making the attempt, even if it was rife with lies and useless protestations. "I don't need you. I've never needed you. It's you who's always needed me." Writhing on Leon's lap might have made it impossible to believe anything he said but then his words and actions never really seemed to match. Even when he told Leon he loved him he was always hurting him as if to balance the desperation in the act of speaking. If he were to tell Leon he needed him now, it would be too fucking baring. He was already a mess, held tense while the paint dripped over his back in the seconds before Leon's hands drew the line down his spine and left his hips pressing hard to the man's thigh. His panting turned into a gasped, choked sound while Leon's hand slid down his ass crack to his balls. His feet dug hard into the mattress, his hips rocking against Leon in silent, resenting need. He wanted to be repulsed but the way his stomach was in knots didn't have anything to do with revulsion.
He was reaching for words blindly, throwing them at Leon as if it weren't so obvious that every touch provoked the opposite reaction. "It was just convenient to have your dick when I needed to screw and couldn't bother to exert the effort for anything more. You're just a convenient lay," he repeated, hating the way the paint dried on his skin like a brand of this man's possession, and he thought he'd been paying attention but it startled him when Leon's hand hit against his ass and he mostly yelped out the, "Fuck!" that came after. "I can't-" Stay here.
Every second he stayed stretched over Leon's thighs was lust digging deeper inside of him with the push of Leon's erection against him. He tried to shake free, feeling how fucking pointless it would be to attempt to throw himself off the bed when he wouldn't be able to make it to the door like this but trying nevertheless. "Not everyone wants you," he told Leon, the man's self assurance grating enough. "And even if I wanted you before, it doesn't mean that I want you now. I don't." He was hard and needing and even if he couldn't kick the man away from him with the cuffs holding his legs, it didn't make him stop wanting to. Instead he attempted to heave himself off Leon's lap, even if it would just send him gracelessly to the floor. Every second was the danger of being drowned in his own lust and he said, "I don't need you," again, holding on the phrase despite the way it would have been easier to just give Leon what he wanted.
Every time Matt tried to escape he could feel him gathering himself for it and that made it easy to stop him, to catch him around the waist to keep him from heaving himself out of his lap, and this time he moved him himself, not to let him escape but to lay him across the bed on his stomach so that he could climb over him. One paint-wet hand held him by the hip and it was another handprint left on his skin, another mark of ownership. His body pounded with desire and he hoped that the paint wouldn't be easily washed away; he hoped it would stain the man's skin for days and be a reminder every time he looked at his naked body of how it belonged to Leon.
He sank down over Matt, holding him with the length of his entire body, the weight of him to pin him down to the mattress. His lips came to that vulnerable place at the nape of his neck and he touched it with his tongue before murmuring against the skin. "You always need me. Why is it so hard to say?" His cock was a swollen insinuation against Matt's ass, rubbed back and forth as he pushed his hips against him and smeared himself with blue, but he didn't fuck him. Not yet. "That's all we are, you and me. Just need. Everything I do to you is just an extension of it." There were times when this man's words had the power to rip him apart but not like this. Not when he was bound and helpless and not when he had been beating his cock off against Leon's thigh a moment ago and not when being whipped my a belt had made him moan like that. Illusion tore itself apart under such reactions; that was why he did things like this. His mouth brushed Matt's ear. "I'll fuck you if you ask me to, you know. I won't make you wait. Just tell me how you need it."
He pushed himself up onto his knees and turned Matt over onto his back. His eyes were on his face, studying, caressing, as he reached to wet his fingers in the paint again and wrap them around the man's dick. "You said before I can't really make anyone mine but that's shit. You've never felt this for anyone else." He gripped Matt's hair and held him still to kiss him, teeth closing on his lower lip. He wanted the taste of him to be everything he held inside him; he needed this man so badly but he had never tried to hide it. That was one thing Matt was right about. His hand ran up and down the length of his cock, spreading the blue paint over every inch of it, but he wasn't going to let the man come like this. There were so many ways to torment him without relief. To listen to him say I can't and only drive it into him more, ruthless and unrelenting.
"I haven't lost," he answered, wishing he could hold back the way lust and pleasure wound tightly around each other and came hard with Leon's arm caging him in, because fuck if it didn't always feel more intense when this man was touching him, and it made even attempting to get off a painful reiteration of everything he already knew. His fingers tightened around his cock and he would have shaken Leon's hand off except he doubted the man would leave it alone. He could feel it in man's mouth at his shoulder and then at his neck, catching him unaware with the bite.
He came a moment after, messy and hard and still feeling every bit cheated with it. He forgot he was trying to get away though and half wanted to smear his semen on the other man's arm and lick it off his skin.
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He pushed the man onto his stomach at last, dragged his free hand behind his back again. The game could have ended here but some lusting, marauding part of him was still caught in it and treating this man like his prize was so fucking good. There was never any end to the games they played. There was just action and repercussion, his hands holding Matt's wrists together while he tied the belt around him again, as secure as he could make it. He leaned down when he was done to drag his mouth across the man's shoulder blade and then drew back.
"You've done things to me I can't recover from." He spoke as though they were continuing a conversation while he caught Matt's ankles and bound them together with the cuffs. There were memories that lurked on the edge of madness and he put walls between them and him to keep from falling through. "So why the fuck shouldn't I try to break you? It's too fucking lonely not to." Another leather strap wound over Matt's mouth. He tied it off at the back of his head and then sat back on his knees and looked at him, running a hand down his thigh.
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It felt like something he'd been expecting anyway. "You wanted it at all," he said, not knowing if it was true or not but deciding it should be. "I don't need you in the same way." The leather closed over his mouth and he stiffened, hating the feel of it already. He didn't want to be broken, not really, it was too pathetic to break. But he liked the thrill that moved through him when he could feel the weight of Leon's eyes on him like this and he wanted to jostle the order of things so that it wouldn't proceed neatly. Maybe he wanted to make Leon angry too but the thought only lived in theory.
Pulling at his wrists only showed him how trapped they were and he twisted to his side as if to throw off Leon's touch, though maybe he meant to throw himself over the edge of the bed too, he didn't know what the fuck he wanted other than to get the leather strap off his mouth so he could tell Leon that he'd already been put together wrong and he couldn't take going through it again.
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"I can make you need me." He bent down to get his upper arm under Matt's waist, to hoist him up over his shoulder. His free hand rubbed taunting over the back of the man's thigh, smacking against the flesh. "It's too fucking easy when you want to give in to everything I do to you." He got to his feet with the man slung over his shoulder, one of his hands curved against his thigh to keep him steady and he wondered how it could be possible for him to feel any more like his possession. If there were any better way to make this man belong to him than to carry him to bed over his shoulder like so much plunder.
And Matt had been right before, this wasn't his bed so it wasn't the same. The game necessitated finding his own. He took the sword before he left but nothing else, carrying it sheathed in his free hand out into the hall, Matt's weight a burden but not one he couldn't handle. Even here his nakedness and Matt's nakedness felt brazen but he didn't care. The hotel's corridors were mostly empty of trick or treaters now--probably paired up and gone off to find rooms of their own--but there were a few stragglers in strange costumes to stand at the side of the hall and stare at them both. It made him remember how Matt had left him tied up to be used by anyone who passed, and he wondered briefly what it might be like to watch strangers line up to have a turn at this man but he knew he couldn't tolerate it. His obsession was too proprietary. He wanted Matt to feel him and no one else.
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He hated every second of the insinuation this drew but at the same time, he did want to give in. Every single fucking time, he didn't know how to stop wanting these moments between them. It was too baring though to be nothing but a body slung over Leon's shoulder and ever step reminded him of how he couldn't touch him. His arm were uncomfortable while pulled behind him and it made him feel impotent and stupid and they were both things he didn't like to feel.
His head didn't lift and he didn't look at any of the stragglers in the hall, not wanting them to exist in a world where it was meant just to be the two of them, needing and not needing.
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The place was different from how he'd left it. The red sheets of the bed were gone and in their place were coverings that looked primitive and woven, like tapestries instead of blankets, and candles burning on the furniture. Like Matt trying to make a spaceship out of his room the hotel had created this parody for him, for the warrior he was supposed to be. He stood in the threshold and looked at it for a moment, his eyes wandering over the furnishings illuminated by flickering light. And then he went inside, with Matt a prisoner over his shoulder and the room made up like a cell to bring him back to, lay him against the weavings and claim him all over again.
He eased him down to the bed on his side, running a hand over his thigh again and watching the way the light flickered over his bare skin. Watching how he looked gagged and bound, so utterly fucking helpless. How he looked lying across Leon's bed now. His fingers ran over his ass, eased between his legs to fondle his balls. He rubbed them idly for a few moments, kneading with the palm of his hand before getting up again, moving away from the bed.
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It was a joke but he was still helplessly aware of how Leon moved away. It was impossible to stop searching for him. He tensed, anticipation feeling like one of those things that could manage to crawl both over and under the skin. It was knotting his guts up and squeezing at his lungs because all Leon did was tear him apart. Being tied up while he did it just made him feel it more vividly. Swallowing back his need for this man was a temporary pretense and he jerked himself back on his arms, staring at the room and then ignoring it. It wasn't like the decorations could do more to emphasis how fucking brutish Leon had looked when he'd been first standing at Matt's door. The man's clothes were gone but he still carried the costume on him like a taint.
He tried indifference when meeting Leon's eyes too, even while struggling to sit up. He stopped a moment later because all he was doing was dragging the bedding out of place and he hated exerting so much energy for nothing. Instead he threw the man's name back at him in thoughts, wondering if he concentrated on it enough if the man would come back and let him go.
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Leon watched him sink back again as though giving up and then he approached, slowly, the candlelight flickering over them both and his mind full of this man, his body pulsing with the awareness of him. He thought of what it would have been like to fight him in ancient combat, to batter his weapons from his hands, to shove him down to the ground and strip him of armor and clothing, bind him and take him captive. Maybe he would have fucked him for the first time right there, on their battlefield, on the dirt churned by feet and blood. When he reached the bedside he put the oil and the paint aside, keeping the belt in hand. His fingers slid into Matt's hair, gripping the strands of it. He turned the man's face up to him and leaned down to lick at his cheek.
Drawing back, he turned the man over onto his stomach and grabbed a pillow to shove it underneath his hips. His hand held the nape of his neck for a moment, pinning him down, and then he let it run down his spine in a long caress, over his ass, one of his thighs. He lifted the belt and brought it down across the backs of his thighs in a light swat. Then again, a little harder.
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He attempted to stay put while Leon turned him around but it was a pitiful attempt, even if the other man hadn't been completely capable of dictating where he wanted him. His breath caught with the pillow pushed in beneath him and the caress that followed was rough and he didn't know how to stop responding or wanting these moments to keep going on until he couldn't sense anything else.
There was too much that was different from the last time. It was obnoxious not to be able to watch the other man, to have nothing but apprehension tiptoeing over his skin while he lay there and felt Leon's gaze and the edges coating every second that existed before the belt hit. He shouldn't have been surprised but he was. The sound was smothered against the strap around his mouth but it came again a moment, a little more strangled, when the belt hit him again and his knees were already digging into the mattress to work himself off the pillow despite the way it was always going to thrill him to have this man drive him to his knees. Maybe it was because of it that he didn't want to stand it. He'd done this to people before, both consciously and in the little realities the hotel spawned for them, but he wasn't used to being the one caught in place.
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It raised a flush that time, redness in his pale skin and he touched the place to feel the heat in it, then took his hand away and smacked his ass. Again, again after that, the blows spaced apart as though to be unpredictable, his eyes on Matt at every moment and he wondered if the man could feel the weight of his gaze. Could feel how attracted to him Leon was, to the sight of his wrists bound behind his back and his hips working against the pillow, the redness in his skin and the faint weals on his ass cheeks as he kept bringing the belt down across them. The smack of sound was a rhythmic pulse in the room. He circled around the bed and the man stretched out on it, striking him from different angles. Now and again he paused a while to let him breathe, sitting on the edge of the mattress and caressing his thigh in his free hand.
At one point he laid the belt aside on the mattress and brought a hand to his ass to spread him open, licking his fingers before he pushed them slowly inside him. He worked them in, his eyes resting on that vulnerable place at the nape of his neck as though his gaze could be enough to hold him in place. He was so fucking hard, aroused to unbearable degrees by the sounds Matt had made while he was whipping him, the way he'd moved. He wanted to fuck him then but he didn't want to stop yet, didn't want to stop making Matt aware of his helplessness at every fucking moment.
He grasped him abruptly and pulled him off the pillow and slung him over his lap instead, facedown, his erection digging into the man's stomach. His hand on his ass again for a moment, caressing, then lifting away to smack him hard, with an open palm.
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He was offering a litany of fucks inside his head when Leon held him spread him open though and he shuddered violently when the man's fingers pushed inside of him. Everything Leon did could easily destroy him and he hated him for it. He hated how easy it was to feel lust for him and to want more of this. He didn't want to feel more, didn't want to feel the way Leon's eyes moved over him, his entire body twisting while the man fucked him with his fingers. The touch made him feel more than the burn of the belt had and he pushed back into it, even if it didn't last long and Leon was pulling him off the pillow and on his lap.
It only took that first smack to electrify and choke his breath off. He forced his way to his knees, shoving Leon with his shoulder, and he didn't want to feel that. Lust had shoveled deep inside him and he could feel it in his balls and in his cock, a breath that was more a shiver and a pounding of his pulse that made him feel more aware than he wanted to be. The belt had been impersonal at least, this was too close, and if running away was too embarrassing, he turned to distraction instead, turning to press Leon against the bed even if there was no way to hold him down but with his weight.
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"You said something once. It has to hurt to mean anything." He'd heard those words more than once, or some variation of them; the sentiment was everything their relationship seemed to mean. He licked at Matt's cheek and then turned him in his hands and pushed him down again. Facedown like he'd been, one of his hands resting at the nape of his neck and the other running over his ass and thighs, stroking for a few moments before he lifted his hand away and struck him again. Desire twisted in him with every way he touched this man. He smacked him again, again, holding him pinned, and he was drowning in it, wanting to make Matt take more than he could stand so that they might drown together.
Lust was a monster in him. He stopped and slid a hand between Matt's thighs to cup his balls, squeezing him lightly, and every caress was a new and separate attempt to possess him. His fingers gripped roughly in his hair, then let go to undo the tie of the gag with brusque jerks.
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The fact that it had to hurt meant shit to him now because he never meant to be the one in a situation like this. The fact that it was Leon doing this to him only made it more excruciatingly because it made him want this even while his mind was refusing to accept it. Being dragged down over Leon's thighs was too baring and he was breathing too hard and close to whining while the man smacked the welts the belt had left on his skin. If he attempted to edge away, he was just rubbing against Leon's lap, the helplessness in this emphasized by how he was held down by the back of the neck. Tension seemed to have filled him completely and he was inhaling more of it in with every slap of Leon's hand on his ass. Choking on a moan behind the strap, he felt distorted by his own need to be torn apart by this man in simple gestures.
The sensation only intensified with Leon's hand cupping his balls. It felt like his limbs were going to melt with his desire for the man but that made it more disgusting too because he couldn't stand how fucking pathetic he was. Being freed from the strap around his mouth only made it more obvious because strangling the attempt to beg didn't make it less obvious that he wanted to. "You proved your point," he told Leon after a moment and his voice didn't feel familiar enough. "Now let go. I don't want it to mean more than this." His shoulders ached from how his arms were held behind him and the way he couldn't relax. Leaving didn't really feel like an option but then he didn't know what did. Staying on Leon's lap was impossible but moving off was just as fucking hard. His knees dug into the mattress and his hips lifted but he couldn't pull away completely while Leon held on to his hair. His prick was hard against him and he needed this man but that meant shit.
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Everything was an enchantment. Everything about the man beneath him allured him impossibly and he couldn't stop running hands over him when he wasn't striking him, couldn't help smacking him again when the caresses became too much to bear. He let Matt dig knees into the mattress and lift himself up just so he could grasp his hip and push him down again. He was remembering the sounds the man had made when it was his hand hitting him and not the belt, how the timber of his voice had been different. His hips writhing against Leon's thigh. His erection was monstrously thick, swelled and engorged against Matt's stomach and Leon stared at his red sore ass and wanted to pound it until the man was begging.
"You don't want me to let you go," he told him, low and tense, his hand closing again on the nape of his neck to pin him there. "You need this. You need me to fuck you until you can't think anymore." He thought of pushing him down onto the mattress again and spreading him open to tongue his asshole but instead he reached over him for the pot of blue war paint he'd found in the wardrobe. "I want to hear you say it."
He dipped forefingers into it experimentally. The paint was wet and cool and it dripped against Matt's skin in the moments before he put his fingers to the center of his back. It made a vivid swath, a straight arrow down his back where his fingers traced and he watched the blue of it staining Matt's skin, thought briefly of writing his name on him but that could only be redundant. Instead he dipped his fingers again and ran them along his ass crack. "Tell me you need me to fuck you." Paint-wet fingers slid between his legs to fondle his balls again, smearing them with color and thought of painting his cock entirely blue. "It won't cost you anything to say it." He wanted it to, though. He wanted to feel every part of this man resisting the urge to beg him and then he wanted to feed lust into him until he couldn't take it anymore, until he broke under the weight of need and begging was all that was left to him. There was no running away, there was no choice in it. There was just feeling and more feeling, Matt's body hot and tense across his thighs, paint sliding wet down his palm and he smacked his ass again for the satisfaction of the handprint it left in blue.
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He was reaching for words blindly, throwing them at Leon as if it weren't so obvious that every touch provoked the opposite reaction. "It was just convenient to have your dick when I needed to screw and couldn't bother to exert the effort for anything more. You're just a convenient lay," he repeated, hating the way the paint dried on his skin like a brand of this man's possession, and he thought he'd been paying attention but it startled him when Leon's hand hit against his ass and he mostly yelped out the, "Fuck!" that came after. "I can't-" Stay here.
Every second he stayed stretched over Leon's thighs was lust digging deeper inside of him with the push of Leon's erection against him. He tried to shake free, feeling how fucking pointless it would be to attempt to throw himself off the bed when he wouldn't be able to make it to the door like this but trying nevertheless. "Not everyone wants you," he told Leon, the man's self assurance grating enough. "And even if I wanted you before, it doesn't mean that I want you now. I don't." He was hard and needing and even if he couldn't kick the man away from him with the cuffs holding his legs, it didn't make him stop wanting to. Instead he attempted to heave himself off Leon's lap, even if it would just send him gracelessly to the floor. Every second was the danger of being drowned in his own lust and he said, "I don't need you," again, holding on the phrase despite the way it would have been easier to just give Leon what he wanted.
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He sank down over Matt, holding him with the length of his entire body, the weight of him to pin him down to the mattress. His lips came to that vulnerable place at the nape of his neck and he touched it with his tongue before murmuring against the skin. "You always need me. Why is it so hard to say?" His cock was a swollen insinuation against Matt's ass, rubbed back and forth as he pushed his hips against him and smeared himself with blue, but he didn't fuck him. Not yet. "That's all we are, you and me. Just need. Everything I do to you is just an extension of it." There were times when this man's words had the power to rip him apart but not like this. Not when he was bound and helpless and not when he had been beating his cock off against Leon's thigh a moment ago and not when being whipped my a belt had made him moan like that. Illusion tore itself apart under such reactions; that was why he did things like this. His mouth brushed Matt's ear. "I'll fuck you if you ask me to, you know. I won't make you wait. Just tell me how you need it."
He pushed himself up onto his knees and turned Matt over onto his back. His eyes were on his face, studying, caressing, as he reached to wet his fingers in the paint again and wrap them around the man's dick. "You said before I can't really make anyone mine but that's shit. You've never felt this for anyone else." He gripped Matt's hair and held him still to kiss him, teeth closing on his lower lip. He wanted the taste of him to be everything he held inside him; he needed this man so badly but he had never tried to hide it. That was one thing Matt was right about. His hand ran up and down the length of his cock, spreading the blue paint over every inch of it, but he wasn't going to let the man come like this. There were so many ways to torment him without relief. To listen to him say I can't and only drive it into him more, ruthless and unrelenting.
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