Ficlet: Take Me Now (Tom/Sean, 1400 words, FRAO)
Disclaimer: Fictional.
Summary: Tom has a collar.
Warning/Enticement: Kink of the collar and d/s variety.
Notes: I wrote the very beginning of this in December as part of a batch of snippets I emailed to friends. The rest of them have been posted here, but I held onto this one because I knew I wanted to do more with it. Title from Patti Smith's "Because the Night" because I've been listening to it all day.
Tom has a collar. This is something Sean discovers by accident when he's rifling through Tom's closet for a spare scarf and manages to knock a box off the shelf that, of course, opens and spills shit everywhere.
He's still sitting there, running it through his hands, when Tom gets home.
"Invasion of privacy," Tom says from the doorway of his room.
"You take pictures of me while I'm sleeping," Sean shoots back. Then he holds up the collar with what he thinks is an appropriately questioning look.
"Yeah," Tom says. He takes it from Sean, runs it through his hands. He unbuckles it and has to lean down to fasten it around Sean's neck.
Sean brings his hand up but stops short from touching it. It seemed okay when it was just a thing in his hands, but now it's Tom's, in a way it wasn't before, and he doesn't think he should touch without permission.
"Stand up," Tom says.
Sean does, and Tom walks around him, looking at him. Looking at the collar, maybe. Seans swallows to see what the motion of his throat will do to the pressure of the leather on his neck.
Tom says, "Hmm," and then says, "I'm going to take your clothes off. Tell me if you want me to stop any of this."
Sean nods and stands there while Tom undresses him down to his skin, the collar, and his cock jutting out in front of him.
"Can you get on your knees?" Tom holds Sean's arm while he does it, feeling awkward in his own skin in a way he usually doesn't.
Tom touches his cheek, caresses it really, and walks around him again.
"Have you ever sucked cock?"
"No."
"Do you want to?"
Sean thinks before he answers. He doesn't not want to. "I want to do whatever you want me to do."
"Mmm," Tom says. "Good answer." He takes out his cock, strokes it a few times while Sean watches. "Careful," he says when he guides it into Sean's mouth.
It's weird, to be on this side of things. Weird to be on his knees. Weird to have the collar around his throat.
Tom touches him, fingers tracing the edge of the collar, and Sean almost chokes when he tries to inhale and think and not bite Tom all at once.
"Easy," Tom says. He cups one hand around the back of Sean's head, the other still touching the place where the collar meets his neck. "You're doing fine, just breathe through your nose."
Sean does, and the taste of Tom on his tongue is still a little weird, but he's getting used to it, getting used to the collar, getting used to Tom's hands on him.
Tom comes in his mouth, and Sean splutters a little trying to swallow it.
"Careful," Tom says, gasps. "Easy." He swipes up what Sean missed with his thumb and pushes it into Sean's mouth.
Sean sucks on it for a moment before Tom takes it away from him.
Tom walks around him again, kneels on the floor behind him, his knees outside of Sean's, his arms around Sean, his hand on Sean's cock.
Tom wrings an orgasm out of him with both hands on his body and his lips on Sean's neck, just above the collar.
*
They've hooked up since the first time, in Tom's room and in Sean's, and, once, in a venue bathroom, but Tom hasn't put the collar on him again. It's still there, sitting on the upended plastic crate that serves as Tom's nightstand. Sean sees it every time they hook up in Tom's room, every time he walks by the door.
"We haven't," he says one afternoon in Tom's bed, Tom stretched out under him while they kiss lazily. "The collar. You haven't put it on me again."
Tom twists his head to look at it, twists back to look at Sean. "You liked it." It's not a question. "Do you want it again?" He picks it up before Sean can answer, the sight of it between Tom's fingers making his throat go dry.
"Next time I put it on you," Tom says, "I'm going to fuck you."
They haven't done that yet. He's had Tom's fingers in him, but not that.
"Do you want it again?"
Sean doesn't even have to think before he says, "Yes."
Tom kisses him, and fastens the collar around his neck while he does.
Sean wants to touch it so badly. Tom's collar on his neck. But he doesn't. It's not his to touch. It's Tom's.
"Get up," Tom says. "Get your clothes off."
Sean does, and Tom lets him lie down again, on his stomach, knees apart and ass up.
Tom's fingers are familiar, but the collar isn't, and it seems to sensitize the rest of him so what is familiar becomes new again.
Tom's fingers drag in and out of him, and then out, and Tom leans over him to say, "You have to tell me if you want to stop. Do you want to stop?"
Sean thinks about it, the way he thought about it when Tom asked if he wanted to suck cock. "No."
Tom kisses his ear, his neck, tongue flicking into the space between collar and skin.
There's a condom wrapper, and then Tom's cock. Sean has had it in his mouth, in his hands. He knows what it feels like then, the heft of it, the weight. It's different this way. It feels different. He can't see it.
"Easy," Tom says. "Breathe."
Sean lets out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding and takes in another one, deep, lets it out.
"Good," Tom says, and then he starts moving, cock in and out like his fingers did, same stretch and pull, only more, bigger, and his fingers now are sticky on Sean's cock and dry where they overlap the edges of the collar.
"Sean," Tom says, and Sean can hear in his voice that he's getting closer.
Sean's still hard, will get there eventually but not, he thinks, until after Tom does.
"Please," he says, not sure exactly what he's asking for. For this, for the collar, for Tom to not come and keep fucking him.
Tom pushes his forehead into Sean's neck when comes, pushing the collar against his skin. His hand tightens on Sean's cock, and he shudders, breathes hard on Sean's skin.
"All right, hang on," Tom says, "this is gonna feel a little weird."
A laugh bubbles up out of Sean, because this is gonna feel a little weird? He's being fucked in his musical soulmate's bed - by said musical soulmate - while wearing a collar.
It does feel weird, though, when Tom pulls out and leaves him empty and still hard and the laughter seems to have made him a little dizzy.
Tom puts his fingers in Sean and pulls him back, up, so he's on his knees sinking himself down onto Tom's touch.
"Jerk yourself off," Tom says into his ear. That other hand is still at the collar, stroking the edge of it, slipping between it and Sean's skin, pressing it against Sean's neck.
Sean comes faster than he thought he would, his own hands on his cock still slightly sticky from where Tom was holding him with fingers wet with lube. He can't breathe for a moment after, until Tom pets his neck and says, "Hey, come on, breathe. Breathe."
Sean does, gasping for it, like he'll never get enough air, stopping when Tom takes his fingers out of him and starting up again after with a more normal rhythm.
Tom keeps one arm around him while he reaches past him for the kleenex on the crate, wipes his fingers and Sean's cock, lies them both down.
"Still breathing?" he asks after a while.
Sean nods and reaches back for Tom's thigh. He knows Tom's still there, still solid against his back, but he needs to touch Tom himself. Because he wants to.
"All right. I'm going to take it off now."
Sean makes a noise, but he doesn't stop Tom. It's Tom's collar. He gets to decide when to take it off.
Tom kisses Sean's bare neck, and it's like having his collar on him all over again.
"Don't wait so long next time," Sean says, and Tom stills for a moment.
"Okay," Tom says, and he kisses Sean's neck again, and again and again.
Summary: Tom has a collar.
Warning/Enticement: Kink of the collar and d/s variety.
Notes: I wrote the very beginning of this in December as part of a batch of snippets I emailed to friends. The rest of them have been posted here, but I held onto this one because I knew I wanted to do more with it. Title from Patti Smith's "Because the Night" because I've been listening to it all day.
Tom has a collar. This is something Sean discovers by accident when he's rifling through Tom's closet for a spare scarf and manages to knock a box off the shelf that, of course, opens and spills shit everywhere.
He's still sitting there, running it through his hands, when Tom gets home.
"Invasion of privacy," Tom says from the doorway of his room.
"You take pictures of me while I'm sleeping," Sean shoots back. Then he holds up the collar with what he thinks is an appropriately questioning look.
"Yeah," Tom says. He takes it from Sean, runs it through his hands. He unbuckles it and has to lean down to fasten it around Sean's neck.
Sean brings his hand up but stops short from touching it. It seemed okay when it was just a thing in his hands, but now it's Tom's, in a way it wasn't before, and he doesn't think he should touch without permission.
"Stand up," Tom says.
Sean does, and Tom walks around him, looking at him. Looking at the collar, maybe. Seans swallows to see what the motion of his throat will do to the pressure of the leather on his neck.
Tom says, "Hmm," and then says, "I'm going to take your clothes off. Tell me if you want me to stop any of this."
Sean nods and stands there while Tom undresses him down to his skin, the collar, and his cock jutting out in front of him.
"Can you get on your knees?" Tom holds Sean's arm while he does it, feeling awkward in his own skin in a way he usually doesn't.
Tom touches his cheek, caresses it really, and walks around him again.
"Have you ever sucked cock?"
"No."
"Do you want to?"
Sean thinks before he answers. He doesn't not want to. "I want to do whatever you want me to do."
"Mmm," Tom says. "Good answer." He takes out his cock, strokes it a few times while Sean watches. "Careful," he says when he guides it into Sean's mouth.
It's weird, to be on this side of things. Weird to be on his knees. Weird to have the collar around his throat.
Tom touches him, fingers tracing the edge of the collar, and Sean almost chokes when he tries to inhale and think and not bite Tom all at once.
"Easy," Tom says. He cups one hand around the back of Sean's head, the other still touching the place where the collar meets his neck. "You're doing fine, just breathe through your nose."
Sean does, and the taste of Tom on his tongue is still a little weird, but he's getting used to it, getting used to the collar, getting used to Tom's hands on him.
Tom comes in his mouth, and Sean splutters a little trying to swallow it.
"Careful," Tom says, gasps. "Easy." He swipes up what Sean missed with his thumb and pushes it into Sean's mouth.
Sean sucks on it for a moment before Tom takes it away from him.
Tom walks around him again, kneels on the floor behind him, his knees outside of Sean's, his arms around Sean, his hand on Sean's cock.
Tom wrings an orgasm out of him with both hands on his body and his lips on Sean's neck, just above the collar.
*
They've hooked up since the first time, in Tom's room and in Sean's, and, once, in a venue bathroom, but Tom hasn't put the collar on him again. It's still there, sitting on the upended plastic crate that serves as Tom's nightstand. Sean sees it every time they hook up in Tom's room, every time he walks by the door.
"We haven't," he says one afternoon in Tom's bed, Tom stretched out under him while they kiss lazily. "The collar. You haven't put it on me again."
Tom twists his head to look at it, twists back to look at Sean. "You liked it." It's not a question. "Do you want it again?" He picks it up before Sean can answer, the sight of it between Tom's fingers making his throat go dry.
"Next time I put it on you," Tom says, "I'm going to fuck you."
They haven't done that yet. He's had Tom's fingers in him, but not that.
"Do you want it again?"
Sean doesn't even have to think before he says, "Yes."
Tom kisses him, and fastens the collar around his neck while he does.
Sean wants to touch it so badly. Tom's collar on his neck. But he doesn't. It's not his to touch. It's Tom's.
"Get up," Tom says. "Get your clothes off."
Sean does, and Tom lets him lie down again, on his stomach, knees apart and ass up.
Tom's fingers are familiar, but the collar isn't, and it seems to sensitize the rest of him so what is familiar becomes new again.
Tom's fingers drag in and out of him, and then out, and Tom leans over him to say, "You have to tell me if you want to stop. Do you want to stop?"
Sean thinks about it, the way he thought about it when Tom asked if he wanted to suck cock. "No."
Tom kisses his ear, his neck, tongue flicking into the space between collar and skin.
There's a condom wrapper, and then Tom's cock. Sean has had it in his mouth, in his hands. He knows what it feels like then, the heft of it, the weight. It's different this way. It feels different. He can't see it.
"Easy," Tom says. "Breathe."
Sean lets out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding and takes in another one, deep, lets it out.
"Good," Tom says, and then he starts moving, cock in and out like his fingers did, same stretch and pull, only more, bigger, and his fingers now are sticky on Sean's cock and dry where they overlap the edges of the collar.
"Sean," Tom says, and Sean can hear in his voice that he's getting closer.
Sean's still hard, will get there eventually but not, he thinks, until after Tom does.
"Please," he says, not sure exactly what he's asking for. For this, for the collar, for Tom to not come and keep fucking him.
Tom pushes his forehead into Sean's neck when comes, pushing the collar against his skin. His hand tightens on Sean's cock, and he shudders, breathes hard on Sean's skin.
"All right, hang on," Tom says, "this is gonna feel a little weird."
A laugh bubbles up out of Sean, because this is gonna feel a little weird? He's being fucked in his musical soulmate's bed - by said musical soulmate - while wearing a collar.
It does feel weird, though, when Tom pulls out and leaves him empty and still hard and the laughter seems to have made him a little dizzy.
Tom puts his fingers in Sean and pulls him back, up, so he's on his knees sinking himself down onto Tom's touch.
"Jerk yourself off," Tom says into his ear. That other hand is still at the collar, stroking the edge of it, slipping between it and Sean's skin, pressing it against Sean's neck.
Sean comes faster than he thought he would, his own hands on his cock still slightly sticky from where Tom was holding him with fingers wet with lube. He can't breathe for a moment after, until Tom pets his neck and says, "Hey, come on, breathe. Breathe."
Sean does, gasping for it, like he'll never get enough air, stopping when Tom takes his fingers out of him and starting up again after with a more normal rhythm.
Tom keeps one arm around him while he reaches past him for the kleenex on the crate, wipes his fingers and Sean's cock, lies them both down.
"Still breathing?" he asks after a while.
Sean nods and reaches back for Tom's thigh. He knows Tom's still there, still solid against his back, but he needs to touch Tom himself. Because he wants to.
"All right. I'm going to take it off now."
Sean makes a noise, but he doesn't stop Tom. It's Tom's collar. He gets to decide when to take it off.
Tom kisses Sean's bare neck, and it's like having his collar on him all over again.
"Don't wait so long next time," Sean says, and Tom stills for a moment.
"Okay," Tom says, and he kisses Sean's neck again, and again and again.