FIC: Hierarchy 2 (Batman RPS, Christian Bale/Cillian Murphy, NC-17, kink)
Hierarchy 2
Authors: padawanhilary and telesilla
Fandom/Pairing: Batman RPS, Christian Bale/Cillian Murphy
Series: Hierarchy
Warnings/Rating: NC-17 for kinky sex
Summary: The night after the first night is usually even more complicated.
Disclaimer: Not RL; didn't happen. If you think this has anything to do with the real actors involved, then you need to put down the crack pipe.
Notes: This is the first part of a series that will eventually go to the Liam Neeson/Christian Bale/Cillian Murphy place and probably the Liam/Christian and Liam/Cillian places as well. It's BDSM, sometimes the lighter side, sometimes more heavy; we'll warn for anything extreme. This chapter takes place in England during the early days of the shoot.
~*~*~
Cillian's managed to get through his day, only just. He's not particularly keen on his performance for the day; it's just a good thing he's playing someone unbalanced, because that's certainly how he feels. He's been watching Christian all day, trying to gauge the mood between them, if there even is any. He can't read Christian at all, though. The man's clearly a much better actor than I am.
Christian is certainly aware of Cillian watching him. He's also aware that Liam has noticed Cillian's interest. Should have moved in a little faster, he thinks with what he feels is justifiable smugness. Not that it shows, of course; on set, Christian's all business. After they're done for the day ... that's another story.
"How you holding up?" he asks Cillian as they walk back toward Wardrobe.
"It was like reading off a bloody cue card," Cillian bitches quietly, shaking his head. "I was a fucking hack out there today." He shoots Christian an accusatory look, as though it's somehow his fault.
"You did great," Christian says, frowning a little. "Chris looked totally thrilled."
"Well brilliant. I fooled everyone but myself." Cillian sighs, then looks up at Christian again, a bit more kindly this time. "Sorry. I've been out of sorts all day, I suppose it's good that no one else can tell."
"We never cracked that bottle of scotch," Christian says. "You want to drop by my room tonight and take a stab at it?" He holds up a hand. "Nothing has to happen; I won't push unless you want me to."
That's actually a bit of a relief. Cillian nods. "That sounds fine," he says quietly. "I could do with a drink."
By the time Cillian knocks on the door, Christian's set out glasses and a couple of plates of various hors d'oeuvres he ordered from room service. "Come on in," he says easily, hoping that his casual clothes -- a pair of plain black pants, an old grey jumper, and no shoes --will put Cillian at ease. "You hungry?"
"Yeah, actually," Cillian murmurs. God, Christian looks good, casual and easy. Cillian starts to feel a bit relaxed, too. "Can I help with anything?"
"Just tell me if you take your scotch plain, with ice or with ice and water," Christian says, gesturing to the sofa.
But Cillian isn't just going to let Christian wait on him; at least, that's what he tells himself as he follows Christian into the kitchenette, catching himself staring at that lean back and ass, all that taut muscle that could so easily facilitate fucking him into the floor, or throwing him against the wall --
"Uhm." Cillian clears his throat. "Neat, please. Neat's fine."
Christian pours out two glasses of scotch and then turns and looks at Cillian. "You really are sex on two legs, you know." It's true, but he's a little surprised he said it out loud. He wanted to talk to Cillian, to make sure they were all right, but right now, with Cillian standing there radiating need and confusion, it's all Christian can do to not just shove him over something and fuck him hard.
Cillian swallows. There he goes again, saying and doing things that Cillian can't quite parse, but Cillian's learning very quickly that not knowing what's going on is definitely not a detriment around Christian.
"Am I?" he asks slowly, grinning with a bit of his cheekiness. "I was just thinking similar things about you, actually."
"You know," Christian says after nodding his head a little to acknowledge the compliment. "I'm trying very hard to be responsible and talk to you so we know that we're on the same page. And it's difficult because I'd really like to pull you over my lap, spank your ass bright red and then fuck you over a piece of furniture." He's keeping his voice level and calm because he knows the words have a lot more impact that way, but that too is a bit of a challenge.
Abruptly, irretrievably hard, Cillian swallows and nods. "Well...er. What's...uhm." And he has to laugh, even as he's turning a bit red. "I think it's safe to say we're on the same page, yeah."
Turning, Christian very carefully puts the glasses on the small counter. "Do you have a safeword?" he asks, looking down at the glasses. It startles and annoys him to realize he never asked for it last night. Careless, Bale. Very careless.
"Scarecrow," Cillian murmurs, just a little breathless at the idea that Christian would -- could -- push him that far.
"You have a different one for each movie?" Christian asks, unable to keep himself from laughing a little. He takes a deep breath and then turns and grabs Cillian's upper arm. Pushing until he's got enough room to turn slightly and pull, he manhandles Cillian into the bedroom.
"Undo your jeans," he says. "Don't pull them down."
Cillian does, in point of fact, have a safeword for every movie. Not too long ago, it would've been "twenty-eight." Or "intermission." He really doesn't think Christian's interested in that, though. He undoes his jeans slowly, as though at any moment he could be chastised for doing something horribly wrong, though already he's stopped wondering things like, what's the point in pulling my jeans open without pushing them down? Christian's already got him.
Reaching out, Christian, grabs Cillian's arm again before backing up and sitting down on the bench at the foot of the bed. He drags Cillian over his lap, slamming a hand down on Cillian's lower back to keep him in place.
Breathing hard, Cillian reaches out to balance himself on a splayed hand, planting it on the floor. He arches up, almost as though he would fight the hold Christian has on him, then goes placid. He wanted this. He wants this. Still, he's tense. People just don't get this from him without a fight, and yet Christian waltzed in and grabbed it without even trying.
"Lift your hips, Christian says giving Cillian a sharp slap on his ass. When Cillian obeys, Christian reaches under and carefully pulls both jeans and briefs down, making sure he doesn't come into contact with Cillian's erection.
Oh, shit. Cillian tenses all over, nervous about this suddenly. He knew Christian didn't fuck around but that didn't mean Cillian knew he'd get spanked right now.
Although Christian feels Cillian's sudden tension, he doesn't stop. It's a bit of a risk, but he'd rather risk it being too much than insult Cillian by going easy on him. And so the first blow -- and Christian always goes with bare hand on bare skin before he gets to anything else -- is sharp and crisp, a slap to the right cheek of Cillian's ass.
Cillian sucks in a breath, startled more than hurt. He quickly warms, though, and as fast as he went still and tense, now he's squirming on Christian's lap.
"Stop it," he breathes, voice weak, and he squirms harder, making a show of it.
"Nice," Christian says, continuing to work on Cillian's ass. Just the right cheek though, Christian likes the way the contrast looks. "I have no intention of stopping, of course."
Hissing in air, Cillian fights a little harder, twisting on Christian's lap. "Of course you don't," he gasps, glaring over his shoulder. "You're stronger than I am, you outsize me, outweigh me --why should you stop?"
"No reason," Christian says, planting his other hand firmly on the small of Cillian's back. He goes quiet then, concentrating on increasing the strength of the spanking slowly enough so that the pain will creep up on Cillian.
And it does, slowly, sending heat through Cillian's ass and then through the rest of him. The vibrations drive his cock against Christian's slacks, the strikes make his skin burn and his throat rasp out rough little noises, and Cillian can feel himself sinking again, and Christian hasn't even done that much to him.
Once Cillian's right cheek is a nice dark red and Christian's hand is stinging like mad, he stops. Rubbing his hand against the cool skin of Cillian's left cheek, he chuckles a little. "What happened to 'stop it?'"
Cillian doesn't answer that. It doesn't need an answer, and Christian knows it. Dropping his head, Cillian makes himself relax once more. He's down again. Down hard. How the fuck...?
"Good boy," Christian says, bending down to bush his lips across Cillian's heated skin. "Good slut." Straightening back up, he shakes his hand a little and then starts in on Cillian's left cheek. He wonders if he can get Cillian to cry, or to beg or, ideally, both.
Christ, he never quits. Cillian moans almost despairingly, and now he's grinding his cock into Christian's lap like the slut Christian's expecting. Maybe he can come this way.
"If you come all over my pants," Christian says, continuing the spanking. "I'll make you sleep in them."
That just makes Cillian determined to do it, and he thrusts even as Christian continues to spank him. The rush is hitting him, a heavy, lethargic feeling that he's grateful for even as he resents it. No one gets to do this to me, he thinks, and he shoves his cock down into Christian's lap all the harder.
With a little shrug that Cillian can't see, Christian continues the spanking. The boy's going to have to learn a little self-control, but Christian has no doubt of being able to teach Cillian that. For now, the lesson, if Cillian actually does come, will be that Christian carries through on threats.
Cillian loves that Christian doesn't stop hitting him, loves that the pain never abates, and that makes him shove his hips down all the harder.
Cillian hasn't cried yet, and Christian's not sure he's going to. He doesn't know if it's because Cillian won't or if it's just that the pain isn't enough yet. Have to find out about that, he thinks, gritting his teeth and landing the next blows further down, where Cillian's ass meets his thighs. And this time, Christian's giving it to him on both cheeks.
It's perfect: too perfect. Cillian barks out a few cries and comes hard, shoving his cock down into Christian's lap. He doesn't care anymore. He doesn't think he needs to.
"Well," Christian says, pulling his hand away from Cillian's ass. "That tells me a thing or two."
Cillian freezes, suddenly going cold at the idea he's come without permission. He moans softly, relaxing his body, knowing that won't be enough but hoping anyway.
"Off my lap," Christian says, giving Cillian a push. "And get naked."
Dropping off of Christian's lap, Cillian undresses, giving a bit of a petulant look. He supposes he should have expected this, really.
Christian undresses as well, carefully putting his damp pants on the bench. "Up on the bed," he says, moving over to the nightstand. Pulling out a condom and a bottle of lube, he smiles a small, chill smile at Cillian. "Since you've gotten off, it's only fair that I should as well."
Cillian wants to bite out something tart, but he knows he's already pressed his luck as far as it will go. He gets up on the bed on his hands and knees, assuming there's some kind of punishment coming before Christian fucks him. He doesn't know whether to be glad or scared that Christian's so bloody self-possessed.
"On your back," Christian says, turning to the bed. He moves between Cillian's legs once Cillian's in position. "I want to see your face while I'm fucking you," he explains, cupping Cillian's cheek with his hand.
Inexplicably, a surge of fear shoots through Cillian at that. He watches Christian closely, trying to determine what he's going to do. This is not reassuring. Not at all. It's punishment, Cillian thinks, and his stomach flops over.
If Christian knew that Cillian was thinking of this as punishment, he'd be quick to correct him. The punishment will come later; this is just Christian getting off.
Slicking several fingers, he presses one inside Cillian. "I love the way a recently spanked boy feels inside," he murmurs, carefully working a second finger in. "So fucking hot."
Cillian's squirming by the time Christian gets to the third finger, breathing hard. He's sensitive right now; he tends to be after orgasm, and it makes him tense. Almost too much so; just Christian's fingers make him ache, and the idea of him burying his prick now seems too much to take.
Once Christian's gotten Cillian prepped, he moves into position. "So fucking pretty," he murmurs, sliding into Cillian with one smooth thrust. Grabbing a handful of Cillian's hair, he bends and kisses him hard.
Gasping at the hot, heavy feel of Christian burning his way in, Cillian moans, too, into Christian's mouth. He angles his head away from Christian's hand just to feel the pull. It hurts -- fuck it hurts -- but it's so damned good, and Cillian's sliding down again. Hard.
It's almost a relief to fuck a boy who's already come. While Christian would say he's only concerned about getting himself off, in reality his partner's pleasure is actually quite important to him. But since Cillian's come, Christian can just fuck him any way he wants.
And what Christian wants is to just fuck Cillian as hard and fast as he can.
"Oh -- God--" Cillian reaches a hand over his head to brace himself on the headboard, scrabbling for a hold as Christian pounds into him. The pain is melting away, though, turning into an eager kind of adrenalized pleasure: Christian's fucking gorgeous like this, just taking. Cillian could find himself addicted very quickly if he's not careful -- and he's never been good at being careful.
It has to hurt; Christian knows that Cillian must be aching right now, but the look on Cillian's face tells Christian that Cillian's reached the point where the pain becomes something else, something good. "Yeah?" he gasps out. "You like it? Because I fucking do ... God."
"Yeah," Cillian moans, bringing his other hand up to brace a little better. He's still watching Christian avidly, thrilled and amazed by the passion he displays. He arches into the fucking, trying to keep himself pliant but steady enough to take what Christian gives him.
It doesn't take long, not with Cillian moving like that under him. "Fuck," Christian groans, slamming into Cillian harder. "Oh fuck!" But when he comes, he's almost silent, his face set in a grimace of pleasure. "God," he whispers, lowering his head to rest it on Cillian's shoulder. "God."
Breathless, Cillian relaxes, hooking one calf over the back of Christian's thigh and running his fingers through Christian's hair. "Thank you," he whispers.
"Wasn't for you," Christian says, but he turns his head and nuzzles at Cillian's neck. "Next time you come without permission, you'll be in a lot more trouble."
"I know it wasn't for me, and I know...yeah." Cillian sighs, wondering if he should even say what he's thinking, and then he decides it can't hurt. "Thank you for carrying on...even though I came without permission. I know I'm still to be punished for that." He pulls in a breath. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I disappointed you."
"That is worth something," Christian says, rolling to one side and taking Cillian with him. He strokes Cillian's cheek. "You don't have much experience with being a good boy, do you?"
"None," Cillian murmurs. "I've never met anyone as serious about it as you are."
"I figured," Christian says. He bends his head and kisses Cillian briefly before moving toward the foot of the bed. Grabbing his trousers, he tosses them at Cillian. "There aren't a lot of people as... no that's not right. There are people as serious as I am, just not as ... complicated about it."
Cillian takes up the sticky trousers and makes a little face as he kneels up to put them on. "Why do you say you're complicated?" He gives Christian a wry, crooked smile. "Believe me, it's a bit simpler knowing you can't manipulate a top. Takes a lot of the pressure off, really."
"People say I switch gears too much," Christian says with a little smile at the face Cillian makes. "I know what I'm doing," he adds. "And even if I seem a little ... unbalanced, I'll stop when you give me the word." He shakes his head a little. "I'm not making a lot of sense here; I usually don't talk to people like this."
"You are a bit hard to follow," Cillian admits quietly, "or you were last night. I'm not used to it." He tilts his head, watching Christian as he settles into a position least likely to get the sheets sticky. "But...I think I like it, really." He grins again, tipping his head down.
Moving behind Cillian, Christian pulls Cillian back against his chest. "Do you? Because I think I like the way you push and the way you go down. And I think I'd like to see where this is going to go."
Christian's words heat Cillian up, and he presses back contentedly. "I would, too," he sighs. "I'd like that very much."
-tbc-
Authors: padawanhilary and telesilla
Fandom/Pairing: Batman RPS, Christian Bale/Cillian Murphy
Series: Hierarchy
Warnings/Rating: NC-17 for kinky sex
Summary: The night after the first night is usually even more complicated.
Disclaimer: Not RL; didn't happen. If you think this has anything to do with the real actors involved, then you need to put down the crack pipe.
Notes: This is the first part of a series that will eventually go to the Liam Neeson/Christian Bale/Cillian Murphy place and probably the Liam/Christian and Liam/Cillian places as well. It's BDSM, sometimes the lighter side, sometimes more heavy; we'll warn for anything extreme. This chapter takes place in England during the early days of the shoot.
~*~*~
Cillian's managed to get through his day, only just. He's not particularly keen on his performance for the day; it's just a good thing he's playing someone unbalanced, because that's certainly how he feels. He's been watching Christian all day, trying to gauge the mood between them, if there even is any. He can't read Christian at all, though. The man's clearly a much better actor than I am.
Christian is certainly aware of Cillian watching him. He's also aware that Liam has noticed Cillian's interest. Should have moved in a little faster, he thinks with what he feels is justifiable smugness. Not that it shows, of course; on set, Christian's all business. After they're done for the day ... that's another story.
"How you holding up?" he asks Cillian as they walk back toward Wardrobe.
"It was like reading off a bloody cue card," Cillian bitches quietly, shaking his head. "I was a fucking hack out there today." He shoots Christian an accusatory look, as though it's somehow his fault.
"You did great," Christian says, frowning a little. "Chris looked totally thrilled."
"Well brilliant. I fooled everyone but myself." Cillian sighs, then looks up at Christian again, a bit more kindly this time. "Sorry. I've been out of sorts all day, I suppose it's good that no one else can tell."
"We never cracked that bottle of scotch," Christian says. "You want to drop by my room tonight and take a stab at it?" He holds up a hand. "Nothing has to happen; I won't push unless you want me to."
That's actually a bit of a relief. Cillian nods. "That sounds fine," he says quietly. "I could do with a drink."
By the time Cillian knocks on the door, Christian's set out glasses and a couple of plates of various hors d'oeuvres he ordered from room service. "Come on in," he says easily, hoping that his casual clothes -- a pair of plain black pants, an old grey jumper, and no shoes --will put Cillian at ease. "You hungry?"
"Yeah, actually," Cillian murmurs. God, Christian looks good, casual and easy. Cillian starts to feel a bit relaxed, too. "Can I help with anything?"
"Just tell me if you take your scotch plain, with ice or with ice and water," Christian says, gesturing to the sofa.
But Cillian isn't just going to let Christian wait on him; at least, that's what he tells himself as he follows Christian into the kitchenette, catching himself staring at that lean back and ass, all that taut muscle that could so easily facilitate fucking him into the floor, or throwing him against the wall --
"Uhm." Cillian clears his throat. "Neat, please. Neat's fine."
Christian pours out two glasses of scotch and then turns and looks at Cillian. "You really are sex on two legs, you know." It's true, but he's a little surprised he said it out loud. He wanted to talk to Cillian, to make sure they were all right, but right now, with Cillian standing there radiating need and confusion, it's all Christian can do to not just shove him over something and fuck him hard.
Cillian swallows. There he goes again, saying and doing things that Cillian can't quite parse, but Cillian's learning very quickly that not knowing what's going on is definitely not a detriment around Christian.
"Am I?" he asks slowly, grinning with a bit of his cheekiness. "I was just thinking similar things about you, actually."
"You know," Christian says after nodding his head a little to acknowledge the compliment. "I'm trying very hard to be responsible and talk to you so we know that we're on the same page. And it's difficult because I'd really like to pull you over my lap, spank your ass bright red and then fuck you over a piece of furniture." He's keeping his voice level and calm because he knows the words have a lot more impact that way, but that too is a bit of a challenge.
Abruptly, irretrievably hard, Cillian swallows and nods. "Well...er. What's...uhm." And he has to laugh, even as he's turning a bit red. "I think it's safe to say we're on the same page, yeah."
Turning, Christian very carefully puts the glasses on the small counter. "Do you have a safeword?" he asks, looking down at the glasses. It startles and annoys him to realize he never asked for it last night. Careless, Bale. Very careless.
"Scarecrow," Cillian murmurs, just a little breathless at the idea that Christian would -- could -- push him that far.
"You have a different one for each movie?" Christian asks, unable to keep himself from laughing a little. He takes a deep breath and then turns and grabs Cillian's upper arm. Pushing until he's got enough room to turn slightly and pull, he manhandles Cillian into the bedroom.
"Undo your jeans," he says. "Don't pull them down."
Cillian does, in point of fact, have a safeword for every movie. Not too long ago, it would've been "twenty-eight." Or "intermission." He really doesn't think Christian's interested in that, though. He undoes his jeans slowly, as though at any moment he could be chastised for doing something horribly wrong, though already he's stopped wondering things like, what's the point in pulling my jeans open without pushing them down? Christian's already got him.
Reaching out, Christian, grabs Cillian's arm again before backing up and sitting down on the bench at the foot of the bed. He drags Cillian over his lap, slamming a hand down on Cillian's lower back to keep him in place.
Breathing hard, Cillian reaches out to balance himself on a splayed hand, planting it on the floor. He arches up, almost as though he would fight the hold Christian has on him, then goes placid. He wanted this. He wants this. Still, he's tense. People just don't get this from him without a fight, and yet Christian waltzed in and grabbed it without even trying.
"Lift your hips, Christian says giving Cillian a sharp slap on his ass. When Cillian obeys, Christian reaches under and carefully pulls both jeans and briefs down, making sure he doesn't come into contact with Cillian's erection.
Oh, shit. Cillian tenses all over, nervous about this suddenly. He knew Christian didn't fuck around but that didn't mean Cillian knew he'd get spanked right now.
Although Christian feels Cillian's sudden tension, he doesn't stop. It's a bit of a risk, but he'd rather risk it being too much than insult Cillian by going easy on him. And so the first blow -- and Christian always goes with bare hand on bare skin before he gets to anything else -- is sharp and crisp, a slap to the right cheek of Cillian's ass.
Cillian sucks in a breath, startled more than hurt. He quickly warms, though, and as fast as he went still and tense, now he's squirming on Christian's lap.
"Stop it," he breathes, voice weak, and he squirms harder, making a show of it.
"Nice," Christian says, continuing to work on Cillian's ass. Just the right cheek though, Christian likes the way the contrast looks. "I have no intention of stopping, of course."
Hissing in air, Cillian fights a little harder, twisting on Christian's lap. "Of course you don't," he gasps, glaring over his shoulder. "You're stronger than I am, you outsize me, outweigh me --why should you stop?"
"No reason," Christian says, planting his other hand firmly on the small of Cillian's back. He goes quiet then, concentrating on increasing the strength of the spanking slowly enough so that the pain will creep up on Cillian.
And it does, slowly, sending heat through Cillian's ass and then through the rest of him. The vibrations drive his cock against Christian's slacks, the strikes make his skin burn and his throat rasp out rough little noises, and Cillian can feel himself sinking again, and Christian hasn't even done that much to him.
Once Cillian's right cheek is a nice dark red and Christian's hand is stinging like mad, he stops. Rubbing his hand against the cool skin of Cillian's left cheek, he chuckles a little. "What happened to 'stop it?'"
Cillian doesn't answer that. It doesn't need an answer, and Christian knows it. Dropping his head, Cillian makes himself relax once more. He's down again. Down hard. How the fuck...?
"Good boy," Christian says, bending down to bush his lips across Cillian's heated skin. "Good slut." Straightening back up, he shakes his hand a little and then starts in on Cillian's left cheek. He wonders if he can get Cillian to cry, or to beg or, ideally, both.
Christ, he never quits. Cillian moans almost despairingly, and now he's grinding his cock into Christian's lap like the slut Christian's expecting. Maybe he can come this way.
"If you come all over my pants," Christian says, continuing the spanking. "I'll make you sleep in them."
That just makes Cillian determined to do it, and he thrusts even as Christian continues to spank him. The rush is hitting him, a heavy, lethargic feeling that he's grateful for even as he resents it. No one gets to do this to me, he thinks, and he shoves his cock down into Christian's lap all the harder.
With a little shrug that Cillian can't see, Christian continues the spanking. The boy's going to have to learn a little self-control, but Christian has no doubt of being able to teach Cillian that. For now, the lesson, if Cillian actually does come, will be that Christian carries through on threats.
Cillian loves that Christian doesn't stop hitting him, loves that the pain never abates, and that makes him shove his hips down all the harder.
Cillian hasn't cried yet, and Christian's not sure he's going to. He doesn't know if it's because Cillian won't or if it's just that the pain isn't enough yet. Have to find out about that, he thinks, gritting his teeth and landing the next blows further down, where Cillian's ass meets his thighs. And this time, Christian's giving it to him on both cheeks.
It's perfect: too perfect. Cillian barks out a few cries and comes hard, shoving his cock down into Christian's lap. He doesn't care anymore. He doesn't think he needs to.
"Well," Christian says, pulling his hand away from Cillian's ass. "That tells me a thing or two."
Cillian freezes, suddenly going cold at the idea he's come without permission. He moans softly, relaxing his body, knowing that won't be enough but hoping anyway.
"Off my lap," Christian says, giving Cillian a push. "And get naked."
Dropping off of Christian's lap, Cillian undresses, giving a bit of a petulant look. He supposes he should have expected this, really.
Christian undresses as well, carefully putting his damp pants on the bench. "Up on the bed," he says, moving over to the nightstand. Pulling out a condom and a bottle of lube, he smiles a small, chill smile at Cillian. "Since you've gotten off, it's only fair that I should as well."
Cillian wants to bite out something tart, but he knows he's already pressed his luck as far as it will go. He gets up on the bed on his hands and knees, assuming there's some kind of punishment coming before Christian fucks him. He doesn't know whether to be glad or scared that Christian's so bloody self-possessed.
"On your back," Christian says, turning to the bed. He moves between Cillian's legs once Cillian's in position. "I want to see your face while I'm fucking you," he explains, cupping Cillian's cheek with his hand.
Inexplicably, a surge of fear shoots through Cillian at that. He watches Christian closely, trying to determine what he's going to do. This is not reassuring. Not at all. It's punishment, Cillian thinks, and his stomach flops over.
If Christian knew that Cillian was thinking of this as punishment, he'd be quick to correct him. The punishment will come later; this is just Christian getting off.
Slicking several fingers, he presses one inside Cillian. "I love the way a recently spanked boy feels inside," he murmurs, carefully working a second finger in. "So fucking hot."
Cillian's squirming by the time Christian gets to the third finger, breathing hard. He's sensitive right now; he tends to be after orgasm, and it makes him tense. Almost too much so; just Christian's fingers make him ache, and the idea of him burying his prick now seems too much to take.
Once Christian's gotten Cillian prepped, he moves into position. "So fucking pretty," he murmurs, sliding into Cillian with one smooth thrust. Grabbing a handful of Cillian's hair, he bends and kisses him hard.
Gasping at the hot, heavy feel of Christian burning his way in, Cillian moans, too, into Christian's mouth. He angles his head away from Christian's hand just to feel the pull. It hurts -- fuck it hurts -- but it's so damned good, and Cillian's sliding down again. Hard.
It's almost a relief to fuck a boy who's already come. While Christian would say he's only concerned about getting himself off, in reality his partner's pleasure is actually quite important to him. But since Cillian's come, Christian can just fuck him any way he wants.
And what Christian wants is to just fuck Cillian as hard and fast as he can.
"Oh -- God--" Cillian reaches a hand over his head to brace himself on the headboard, scrabbling for a hold as Christian pounds into him. The pain is melting away, though, turning into an eager kind of adrenalized pleasure: Christian's fucking gorgeous like this, just taking. Cillian could find himself addicted very quickly if he's not careful -- and he's never been good at being careful.
It has to hurt; Christian knows that Cillian must be aching right now, but the look on Cillian's face tells Christian that Cillian's reached the point where the pain becomes something else, something good. "Yeah?" he gasps out. "You like it? Because I fucking do ... God."
"Yeah," Cillian moans, bringing his other hand up to brace a little better. He's still watching Christian avidly, thrilled and amazed by the passion he displays. He arches into the fucking, trying to keep himself pliant but steady enough to take what Christian gives him.
It doesn't take long, not with Cillian moving like that under him. "Fuck," Christian groans, slamming into Cillian harder. "Oh fuck!" But when he comes, he's almost silent, his face set in a grimace of pleasure. "God," he whispers, lowering his head to rest it on Cillian's shoulder. "God."
Breathless, Cillian relaxes, hooking one calf over the back of Christian's thigh and running his fingers through Christian's hair. "Thank you," he whispers.
"Wasn't for you," Christian says, but he turns his head and nuzzles at Cillian's neck. "Next time you come without permission, you'll be in a lot more trouble."
"I know it wasn't for me, and I know...yeah." Cillian sighs, wondering if he should even say what he's thinking, and then he decides it can't hurt. "Thank you for carrying on...even though I came without permission. I know I'm still to be punished for that." He pulls in a breath. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I disappointed you."
"That is worth something," Christian says, rolling to one side and taking Cillian with him. He strokes Cillian's cheek. "You don't have much experience with being a good boy, do you?"
"None," Cillian murmurs. "I've never met anyone as serious about it as you are."
"I figured," Christian says. He bends his head and kisses Cillian briefly before moving toward the foot of the bed. Grabbing his trousers, he tosses them at Cillian. "There aren't a lot of people as... no that's not right. There are people as serious as I am, just not as ... complicated about it."
Cillian takes up the sticky trousers and makes a little face as he kneels up to put them on. "Why do you say you're complicated?" He gives Christian a wry, crooked smile. "Believe me, it's a bit simpler knowing you can't manipulate a top. Takes a lot of the pressure off, really."
"People say I switch gears too much," Christian says with a little smile at the face Cillian makes. "I know what I'm doing," he adds. "And even if I seem a little ... unbalanced, I'll stop when you give me the word." He shakes his head a little. "I'm not making a lot of sense here; I usually don't talk to people like this."
"You are a bit hard to follow," Cillian admits quietly, "or you were last night. I'm not used to it." He tilts his head, watching Christian as he settles into a position least likely to get the sheets sticky. "But...I think I like it, really." He grins again, tipping his head down.
Moving behind Cillian, Christian pulls Cillian back against his chest. "Do you? Because I think I like the way you push and the way you go down. And I think I'd like to see where this is going to go."
Christian's words heat Cillian up, and he presses back contentedly. "I would, too," he sighs. "I'd like that very much."
-tbc-