RP: Distractions

[shh_terry]

Date: April 13, 2005
Character(s): Blaise Zabini, Terry Boot
Location: Antiquity
Status: Private. Very, very private.
Summary: Terry tries to accomplish some work. Blaise doesn't seem intent on letting him, and Terry reallydoesn't mind.
Completion: Incomplete

Comments

[shh_terry]

Terry arched up as far as he could, pressing himself against Blaise, whimpering as the cloth of their trousers got in the way. “Too many clothes,” he whined, tugging against the bonds, wanting his hands free to strip Blaise of his lounge pants, to run down Blaise’s chest, wanting the feel of his muscles against his palms. “You’re doing pretty good yourself,” he said, his voice hoarse with want and need.

Terry shouted as Blaise’s hand closed around his erection, squeezing with just enough pressure to give Terry optimum pleasure and stave off a premature orgasm. “Bloody hell,” Terry panted, thrusting his hips forward toward Blaise, but the binds on his arms kept him from being able to chase Blaise’s retreating hips. “Torturer,” he groaned.

Terry sucked Blaise’s finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue along the length, nipping at the tip. He whimpered again as Blaise withdrew his finger, biting his lower lip as it popped back into place.

“Yes,” Terry cried, eyes closing at the thought of how Blaise would put marks on him. “I want you to mark me, leave me with bruises that let me know you’re there even when you’re not. Please.” His voice was pleading, his breath coming faster now, his cock pressing painfully against his jeans.

“Feel so full, so complete when you’re in me,” Terry said, locking his eyes on Blaise’s. “So perfect. Never, ever want it to end.”

Terry’s eyes fluttered closed as Blaise dragged his head back and to the side, one long finger making its way down Terry’s throat, lingering on an ink stain. “No, I didn’t. I had to work, had to be responsible.” He groaned as Blaise teased him, made him want, made him whimper.

Terry gasped as Blaise lowered his head and latched onto the ink stained skin of his neck, sucking and biting and bringing blood to the surface. Terry knew it would make a beautiful bruise, one he hoped would last for days, so that everytime he touched it, he’d feel connected to Blaise.

“Please,” he pleaded. “More. Anything. Everything.”

[shh_blaise]

“I’m only wearing slacks,” Blaise countered, finger trailing over Terry’s collarbone, His tong still lapping at the mark he was cleaning/making on his lover’s neck. “Where as you are wearing these-“ Blaise’s tone was vaguely disapproving as he looked down at the offending garment, hooking one finger in the waistband, “-jeans again and a jumper.”

Terry was writhing against Blaise. Arching, wriggling, moaning. And Blaise had never seen anything more beautiful than when Terry was like this. “Merlin, you’re so gorgeous right now. Such a slut. Look at you. You want nothing more than me inside you, don’t you?”

Blaise fastened his lips for the last time over the mark and sucked hard. Making certain it would last. He flicked his tongue over it as he pulled back. Then pushed up out of the chair, away from Terry.

“You haven’t been very responsible though, have you? Haven’t done your work. Ignored me to boot.” Blaise tutted and drew his wand once more. "Can’t have that, Mr Boot.”

He watched Terry a moment. Checked he was okay. Checked there was no doubt. He was just waiting to see doubt with Terry. To see a lack of trust in his eyes. But he kept pushing and so far it had never come. Then, when he was satisfied, he moved. Stepping behind Terry, pushing one hand down over his shoulder and across his chest. Placing his lips at his ear and whispering the spell to banish Terry’s clothes.

“I believe that takes care of that request,” he smirked, sliding his fingers up Terry’s spine, into his hair, pushing his head forward. “Now for the matter of ’anything, everything.’”

Blaise cast another spell and a scarf slid its way out of the wand and wound itself around Terry’s head, binding his eyes.

[shh_terry]

“It’s too much,” Terry complained, aching to see Blaise’s naked form above him, feel his hard cock in his ass. He arched his neck against Blaise’s tongue, gasping as Blaise licked a long stripe up his neck. “I was working,” he said again. “Needed appropriate attire.”

“Only your slut,” Terry whispered, writhing against Blaise, aching for closer contact. “Want you inside me, splitting me open on your cock, making me yours. Make me yours, Blaise. Please.” He felt needy, nearly desperate, as if it was their first time all over again and he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.

Terry pulled against the bonds, wanting to feel Blaise’s hair against his fingers, wanting to run his hands down every inch of Blaise’s body, relearning parts that he seemed to have forgotten since this morning. He whined high in his throat as Blaise sucked deeply at the mark he was making on his shoulder, and knew that it was turning a wonderful shade of purple.

“I have, I’ve been terribly irresponsible,” Terry admitted, as Blaise drew back, missing his warmth already. “Haven’t done my work, ignored you. I should be punished.” Terry looked up at Blaise through his lashes, trust shining in his eyes, blushing as the thrill of the game washed over him. “How can I show my apologies, Mr. Zabini?”

Terry looked up at Blaise as his lover watched him, knowing what he was looking for and knowing that the only thing shining in his eyes was love and trust. “I trust you,” Terry whispered as Blaise moved behind him. “Always.”

He sighed, relieved, as Blaise Banished his clothes, Blaise’s breath washing over his ear and making him shiver. “Yes, anything, Blaise. Anything you want. I’m yours.” And you’re mine. He nearly purred as Blaise’s fingers walked up his spine, melting into the caress.

The purr turned into a gasp, and the gasp into a whine, as Blaise whispered another spell, and a silk scarf wound itself around Terry’s eyes. “This doesn’t help me see you,” Terry pouted, but didn’t protest.

He’d realized by now that loved being blindfolded, loved handing over complete control to Blaise. The blindfold intensified every other sense, making him feel and taste and touch more, deeper, better. Every touch was a thousand times more intense, every smell, every taste electrifying along his skin. The anticipation about what Blaise would do next was nearly unbearable, but even that made everything all the more thrilling.

“Please, Blaise,” he whispered. “Do something.”

[shh_blaise]

“So appropriate you neglected to wear pants?” Blaise whispered, stalking his way around Terry.

Blaise let out a long low groan at the pleas spilling from Terry’s mouth. Fuck he lo - adored that mouth. “Who would have thought you’d have such a dirty little mouth, pet. Merlin, look at you. Begging for me to fuck you. Begging for me to do anything.” Blaise stopped in front of Terry, hooked his fingers in the waistband of his slacks and pushed them down off his hip to pool on the floor. Gathered himself together because of everything Terry had said there had been four little words that had almost broke him. Make me yours, Blaise.

His chest felt tight. Throat thick.

Blaise dropped to the floor. He fastened his hands around Terry’s feet, thumb stroking his instep. “You are mine. All of you,” he said, his voice husky. “I don’t have to make you mine -” Blaise hands moved up, stroking over Terry’s calves, knees, thighs hips. “- because you already are.”

And he was. Completely. Opened himself totally to Blaise. So much so that Blaise sometimes felt heady from the experience. Terry didn’t hold back at all with him anymore. And it was so often this intense between them. Blaise didn’t think that should be the case after five months. Given how many times they had had each other in that time. Given his history.

Had each other.

It wasn’t just him having Terry. Hadn’t been for a long time, though that could have been true at the start. This was more equal. Terry was equal. Took as much of Blaise as he took of Terry. And that scared Blaise just a little. Because he was giving willingly of himself, and he didn’t do that.

One of Blaise’s hands flattened, splaying over Terry’s abdomen and pressing him back into his seat. With his other he claimed the quill that Terry had been sucking earlier from where it was abandoned on the seat.

Blaise pressed the nib lightly against his lover’s stomach and smirked, head dipping and kissing Terry’s hip, his check brushing his erection as he leant in. “How long have you been mine?” he asked, starting to sign his name over Terry’s skin.

“Should I punish you, Terry?”Blaise asked, drawing back. “For being so neglectful?” He dropped the quill to the floor and admired his handiwork a moment “Should I bend you over my desk and spank you perhaps? Would that be suitable?”

Blaise stretched up on his legs, moving his hands higher, scratching his nails over Terry’s nipples and past them, up to his shoulders.

“You legs spread shoulder width apart. Cock pressed against the wood of my desk. Nipples scratching against my papers. Me hard and leaking against your hip from the sight of you.” Blaise paused and place a trail of butterfly kisses over Terry’s jaw, pressing himself further between his legs, leaning that bit closer so that their cocks were almost touching.

“My hand coming down so hard, that I would almost feel bad. Almost. I would have to ease the sting with a stroke of my palm - a kiss of my lips against the nape of your neck - just here.” Blaise’s fingers brushed over the mark he’d left. At the same time he pressed closer still, and his free hand wrapped around their cocks and pressed them together, drawing a hiss from Blaise at the warmth, the feel.

“Because you’re asking me to do anything, pet, and that leaves me a hell of a lot of scope.”