What do you do when you're broke on a Saturday night?
...you finish porn. Alright, this one totally calls for the kinky icon.
TItle: Thunder Rolls
Pairing: Brian/?
Rating: HELLA NC-17/R. Massively kinky: bondage, wax play, dub-con. also, violence and swearing.
Disclaimer: surely you jest. i don't even own the California King Bed (which i so want)
Summary: A thunderstorm kicks off Brian's power, and a stranger takes advantage.
AN: so this came to me after the power went out in my house during a CRAZY thunderstorm, and i realized halfway through closing all the windows that someone could be lurking in the darkness. it was quite funny how fast i ran back to bed after that hehe. Also inspired by Brian's boxing during All Excess (Damn do I want to see that boy fight). Who the intruder is is probably massively easy to figure out, especially if you read my last one shot. ENJOY!
Californian thunderstorms were like any other coastal thunderstorm. Meaning the rain came down hard, fast, and if one got caught in the midst of one, one was completely soaked to the bone. Brian nuzzled his pillow, thanking the good Lord above that he had a nice big house and a nice big bed that kept him nice and dry. Until he realized that all the windows were wide open, and the wind was going strong.
"Shit!" Leaping out of bed, he pulled on worn black lounge pants that had seen all four corners of the globe and were still his favorite, hopping out of his bedroom to the hallway. He flicked the nearest light switch, cursing again as no light illuminated his way. Perfect. Luckily enough, the lightening outside aided him occasionally, and he kept the place neat, so no tripping should occur.
The top floor was quickly shut off from the elements with little to no rain catching inside, but as the guitarist made his way down the stairs, he a small tremor ran up his spine. Not the superstitious type, Brian shrugged it off. Still, one never realizes how much electricity means until one does not have it.
It wasn't until he got to the last room in the house, the front living room that usually was the hang out place, that the rain came pelting in, dashing against his warm skin and pulling a shudder through Brian's body. He scowled and darted through the shower to yank the window down. Damn, that's cold.
As he turned to go back upstairs for a towel and his nice warm California King sized bed, thunder cracked and lightening threw the room in quick relief. A masked figure stood not two feet from Brian.
He jumped, then dropped quickly into a defensive stance, muscle memory of boxing kicking in. The house was completely dark, the quick flashes of lightening ruining any night vision Brian would've had. With his ears perked for any noise, the only thing he could hear was his own rapid heartbeat and shaken breath. He waited for the intruder to make a move, but when no move came, and the lightening refused to strike when he needed it, the musician struck out himself, gunning for the other man's gut with a left jab.
Instead of landing, his fist hit empty air, and in the midst of readjusting his balance, Brian yelled as an iron grip snaked its way across his chest, pinning his arms to his torso. He kicked wildy, hoping to find a kneecap, "GEROOFF ME!"
Low and grating laughter sounded in his ear, "Nuh-uh. I like way you squirm. Hmm, and you're all wet. Good enough to lick."
A shiver shot it's way down Brian's spine for the second time that night, and this time, he paid damn good attention and renewed his efforts to get free. He jerked his head back, catching the other in the forehead. The man grunted and tightened his hold, grunting again as Brian's bare heel knocked into his shin.
This time, the voice was laced with pain though it still held it's amusement. "Look at the great bad Synyster Gates go. Gonna make you scream, beg for me all pretty like."
The only answer Brian had was a feral growl and a fist to the thigh behind him. He aimed a kick at the intruder's shin again, but missed as the other side-stepped them both and brought his own leg up to wrap around Brian's ankle, throwing the captive man off balance. The world spun and dove as the masked man shoved the other onto his own couch, face-down.
"Dumbass," Brian had a moment of triumph as he used his arms to catch himself, then immediately pushed back up into the unknown figure.
Which would have worked if the man hadn't put his knee into Brian's back and shoved back with all of his might. The guitarist struggled to find his breath as all wind was knocked out of him, too disoriented to fight back as his wrists were brought to his back.
If it weren't for the voice being completely unrecognizable, Brian would've been all rage, pissed the hell off that someone broke into his home and interrupted his date with a really comfy bed. But a sliver of fear wormed its way in as he felt the man's weight distribute itself across his back and ass. What if this was some wacko who took one of their songs way too seriously? Necrophilia was all fun and games 'til you were the one on the pointy end of knife.
"You damn fucker, let go!" He bucked his hips and kicked up and back, trying to dislodge the figure above him. Of course, this didn't earn him anything besides a crushing pain in his spine from the knee that drove itself into him further. "damn you!"
The voice sounded further above him as the man reached for something, "Be careful, I don't take to swearing, and might have to stop you from using such vile words."
"Oh fuck you!" Never one to lie there and take it, Brian wrenched his arms free as the other was occupied. He swung hard backwards, 'Marl' curled into a vicious fist, which connected solidly with something. As the man above weezed, Brian hoped it was his chest. He redoubled his bucking efforts, using his now freed hands as leverage.
The darkness enveloping them made it so he never saw the fist coming. Brilliant stars flashed before his eyes as the left side of his face exploded in pain. Brian groaned as his world spun and a quick flash of lightening made the stars dance brighter. Next thing he knew, his body was once again claimed. A telltale ripping sound could be heard through dazed eardrums. He wanted to curse the man out, to tell him fuck no, you ain't putting that shit on me, but the world continued to spin, and though he tried, the only thing that came out was a garbled bunch of vowels and consonants.
Chuckling, the intruder lifted the trapped wrists and began to wrap them together with tape. "Knew this wouldn't be easy, you know. Knew you'd put up a struggle. S'why I chose you instead of the others."
"You're fucking psycho." As the weight removed itself from Brian's back, he tried to free himself, getting only a harsh pinch across his skin for his troubles. "Jesus. I am going to fucking kill you first chance I get."
"Good luck honey, you'll be sooner whimpering on my cock." Another ripping, this time sounding like cloth. A fistful of Brian's disheveled mane, and his head was ripped back. Another flash, and he could see a strip of black cotton before it was pressed to his eyes and the hand released his head. A short tug later, and it was secured.
"Little redundant, don'tcha think? Power's out, dumbass." Earning the bound guitarist another punch to the head, this one making his consciousness waver and dip. "Stop that."
"Stop your smart ass mouth, and I might. Or on second thought..." Yet another ripping sound, and this time Brian could tell what was happening.
"Oh fuck no! Get awa-mrrfh!" Head twisting back and forth, mercy was nonexistent as another knot was tied at the back of his head.
The man leaned over again, blanketing Brian with his body, arousal evident. "Hope you don't mind, I borrowed a shirt. You do have excellent style."
The only answer was a strangled growl and a miscalculated head-butt. With his own answering growl, the captor again grabbed a handful of hair, exposing smooth neck. He traced his tongue along the straining muscles, nearly purring as another grumble sent vibrations along the invasive muscle.
"God you're beautiful." The voice whispered against his ear, sending a surprising shiver down Brian's spine. Then the weight lifted and he was left on the couch, helpless to whatever the man may want to do. Footsteps could be faintly heard amongst the cracking of thunder, slipping upstairs and moving to the bedroom he pined for, minus the visitor.
Go to hell, you sick fuck. Fear spiked and rage boiled, raped in his own fucking house. He paid good money for a security system, the least they could do was add a whole "power outage" safety feature. If his head hadn't still been spinning like a top, Brian would give more thought to the question of what the hell was going to happen to him? The first part being rather obvious by the dick pressed against the back of his thigh, but after that? Shit, this ain't how he wanted to go down. Brian rather wanted there to be cocaine and hookers involved. Or possibly in a nice retirement home with lots of fat grandchildren. Not as someone's bitch, someone who didn't even have the courage to show his face.
While visions of deaths the intruder could create ran rampant in Brian's head, the man came back. The bound man jumped as he was ripped from his own mind and physically picked up, tossed over a surprisingly wide shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Fucking great, I'm vegetation.
A hand slid around the backs of his knees, a preemptive measure against any kicks that might come, the other gripping a firm hold on taped wrists. A low tune was hummed as the man carted his prize up the stairs, grating and atonal.
All we need is a freaking little blonde girl telling me my time is neigh. Ain't the black dude supposed to go first? Fuck, we don't have a black dude!...Zack kinda counts though...Next thing Brian knows, he's airborne, then crashing to his own beloved bed, flailing the only free limbs he has in order to keep from falling off or running into his night stand.
Something that sounded suspiciously like "fucking asshole!" tried to make its way past the cloth shoved in his mouth, but didn't make it all the way through. The voice tutted and grabbed at his ankles, pulling him down the bed and into the center. The worn pants were tugged unceremoniously off, Brian grunting indignantly. Though he still couldn't see, the darkness seemed lighter somehow, like someone had a light on. But the power was out, wasn't it? Before he could kick out again, his right ankle was encircled with more cloth and his left, sat on. Again, something like "fucking pansy" grumbled past cotton. The weight lifted as his left was also tied, leaving Brian wide open.
The guitarist shivered, and though he'd tell you it was fucking cold, the fear of unknown was starting to grate on his senses. He focused on the expensive sheets beneath his naked body, using the familiar to ground himself. Once mentally pulled together, well trained ears listened intently for the other man. Brian cursed as he remembered buying the plushest carpet available, the kind that you couldn't hear a buffalo trampling across.
However, he jumped and stiffened in panic as a weight suddenly dropped across his abdomen, no warning coming as the intruder straddled him. "Hello lover. What say we tame that wilder side, eh?"
Brian's 'fuck you' turned to a pain filled grunt as he felt a scalding pain below his right shoulder. It traveled down the plane of skin, burning slowly. The voice hummed and another pain crossed the middle of his torso, pooling where his stomach dipped.
"Oh, so pretty the way you wiggle for me. Knew you'd be brilliant. I can just tell, ya know? Now lemme hear ya scream." A tongue traced around the now hardened substance on Brian's chest.
Candles? Jesus, he's a romantic type. But of course, tell Brian Haner Jr. to do one thing, and he'll fucking do the other just to piss you off. Or in this case, not give the son of a bitch the satisfaction. But as a line of molten wax started at his navel and traveled clear up to his Adam's apple, it was getting rather hard to control impulse, opting instead to grind his teeth into the fabric surrounding his mouth.
"What babe, not enjoying it?" A rough hand encircled Brian's dick, pumping roughly.
Yes, I frequently get off on being raped. Dumbfuck. But damn, his anatomy sometimes didn't give a flying shit if the hand around him was supposed to be there or not, and the other man knew his way around pleasuring another. A warm mouth suckled at his sensitive nipples while working to get his cock to full attention. Just as Brian was about to give in and let out a pornstar moan, the mouth lifted off and he was hit again with brilliant white heat. And he screamed, long and loud enough that the gag didn't do much to quiet him.
Lips and teeth nipped at his neck, purring "That's better."
And God help him, but Brian whimpered. Oh fucking hell. His body was beginning to confuse the pain with the pleasure, and forget that he had entirely no clue who currently had him bound and making obscene noises. The mouth moved across every inch of agitated skin, peeling away the cold wax, only to replace it with a soothing tongue, a soft lip; every so often, a gentle nip that sent tingle's down the guitarist's back. The hand no longer palmed his cock. Not that it needed it. Brian was overwhelmed by all that this man had put him through. Attacked, tied, blind and mute, then tortured with pain and sweet pleasure. His mind was dizzy, spinning to heights never gone to.
Even then, he was caught by surprise as a finger circled his most private parts. Body jerking, he growled low in his throat. There wasn't much room to move, however, and the digit had soon slid inside with the help of some liquid. It felt cool, then warmed under either a chemical reaction, or simply because the two men were indeed very warm.
"Don't worry baby boy, I'll take care of you. Make you feel real good." And good it did feel as the finger curled and hit Brian's prostate dead fucking. Back arching, he felt all pleasure for the first time, and dear lord, it was good. "Now we're getting somewhere. Always knew you were animal in bed, Synyster."
Two digits made their way inside, Brian's libido only taking a slight hit as he realized that this dude probably didn't even know his real name. Then the spot was hit again, and nothing mattered above his waist. It wasn't like this whole gay sex thing was new to him; it just usually happened after a whole lot more Jager, and with him actually seeing who was fucking him, or who he was fucking. Somehow, in his lust clouded brain, this was kind of a turn on. As he began questioning his sanity, the digits were removed and the weight lifted. GIven other situations, he may have protested, but that might seem a little masochistic at this point.
Gentle hands untied his ankles, rubbing the feeling back into them, Brian completely confused as to why they had fallen asleep in the first place. He hadn't pulled that hard on them. Then his body was forced in half, and thought became reclusive as a cock pressed it's way inside of him. The strangled sound coming from beyond fabric was something a kid to "oh god", bordering on jibberish. He'd forgotten how long it's been since it felt like a dick split him in two, and sometimes, that full feeling was the best in the world.
A dark chuckle above him told him that though the intruder couldn't see his eyes, he knew exactly what Brian was thinking, and that he was giving in, enjoying it for all it was. This pissed him off slightly, but again, thoughts are lost in the abyss of pleasure. The pace was slow, deliberate, every thrust putting the man balls deep inside, hitting dead on. A hand skimmed along his now rock hard dick, murmuring soft words of how beautiful Brian was, spread out for him, taking all the pleasure he could. The man's thrusts grew erratic and a deep yell rang out as he spent himself inside the bound man, driving himself in with enough force to move them towards the headboard.
There was a brief moment of Oh fuck is he safe? I don't want some dumbass stranger with STDs in my ass! which then turned into Oh fuck, fuck me harder, god, right there, RIGHT THERE! And Brian was coming, full on toes curled, back arched, screaming, I-may-not-see-the-light-of-day-after-this orgasm. Which really didn't make sense considering an hour ago, he was pissed a shit an- oh fuck, never mind, I'm tired. He vaguely felt the man turning him over, and cutting off the binds, then gently pulling away both the blindfold and gag, but the now freed man could only curl up with his favorite pillow and hope the dude didn't have an urge to kill him before passing out.
***********
Brian awoke sometime later, not sure how long he slept, with arms wrapped around his own. Heavy breathing told him that the other was still asleep.
"Hey, Matt."
"hurh?"
"Thanks."
"Sure."
"Did you really rip one of my shirts?"
"Nope, knew you'd get bitchy."
Brian grumbled, but realized it was the truth. "How's the laryngitis?"
"'M fine, lemme sleep. Hard work beatin' you to shit, yanno."
Brian laughed, and settled back into his lover's embrace.
AN2: sorry Bri i know this is three times in a row, i'll make you a dommy fuck next time.
TItle: Thunder Rolls
Pairing: Brian/?
Rating: HELLA NC-17/R. Massively kinky: bondage, wax play, dub-con. also, violence and swearing.
Disclaimer: surely you jest. i don't even own the California King Bed (which i so want)
Summary: A thunderstorm kicks off Brian's power, and a stranger takes advantage.
AN: so this came to me after the power went out in my house during a CRAZY thunderstorm, and i realized halfway through closing all the windows that someone could be lurking in the darkness. it was quite funny how fast i ran back to bed after that hehe. Also inspired by Brian's boxing during All Excess (Damn do I want to see that boy fight). Who the intruder is is probably massively easy to figure out, especially if you read my last one shot. ENJOY!
Californian thunderstorms were like any other coastal thunderstorm. Meaning the rain came down hard, fast, and if one got caught in the midst of one, one was completely soaked to the bone. Brian nuzzled his pillow, thanking the good Lord above that he had a nice big house and a nice big bed that kept him nice and dry. Until he realized that all the windows were wide open, and the wind was going strong.
"Shit!" Leaping out of bed, he pulled on worn black lounge pants that had seen all four corners of the globe and were still his favorite, hopping out of his bedroom to the hallway. He flicked the nearest light switch, cursing again as no light illuminated his way. Perfect. Luckily enough, the lightening outside aided him occasionally, and he kept the place neat, so no tripping should occur.
The top floor was quickly shut off from the elements with little to no rain catching inside, but as the guitarist made his way down the stairs, he a small tremor ran up his spine. Not the superstitious type, Brian shrugged it off. Still, one never realizes how much electricity means until one does not have it.
It wasn't until he got to the last room in the house, the front living room that usually was the hang out place, that the rain came pelting in, dashing against his warm skin and pulling a shudder through Brian's body. He scowled and darted through the shower to yank the window down. Damn, that's cold.
As he turned to go back upstairs for a towel and his nice warm California King sized bed, thunder cracked and lightening threw the room in quick relief. A masked figure stood not two feet from Brian.
He jumped, then dropped quickly into a defensive stance, muscle memory of boxing kicking in. The house was completely dark, the quick flashes of lightening ruining any night vision Brian would've had. With his ears perked for any noise, the only thing he could hear was his own rapid heartbeat and shaken breath. He waited for the intruder to make a move, but when no move came, and the lightening refused to strike when he needed it, the musician struck out himself, gunning for the other man's gut with a left jab.
Instead of landing, his fist hit empty air, and in the midst of readjusting his balance, Brian yelled as an iron grip snaked its way across his chest, pinning his arms to his torso. He kicked wildy, hoping to find a kneecap, "GEROOFF ME!"
Low and grating laughter sounded in his ear, "Nuh-uh. I like way you squirm. Hmm, and you're all wet. Good enough to lick."
A shiver shot it's way down Brian's spine for the second time that night, and this time, he paid damn good attention and renewed his efforts to get free. He jerked his head back, catching the other in the forehead. The man grunted and tightened his hold, grunting again as Brian's bare heel knocked into his shin.
This time, the voice was laced with pain though it still held it's amusement. "Look at the great bad Synyster Gates go. Gonna make you scream, beg for me all pretty like."
The only answer Brian had was a feral growl and a fist to the thigh behind him. He aimed a kick at the intruder's shin again, but missed as the other side-stepped them both and brought his own leg up to wrap around Brian's ankle, throwing the captive man off balance. The world spun and dove as the masked man shoved the other onto his own couch, face-down.
"Dumbass," Brian had a moment of triumph as he used his arms to catch himself, then immediately pushed back up into the unknown figure.
Which would have worked if the man hadn't put his knee into Brian's back and shoved back with all of his might. The guitarist struggled to find his breath as all wind was knocked out of him, too disoriented to fight back as his wrists were brought to his back.
If it weren't for the voice being completely unrecognizable, Brian would've been all rage, pissed the hell off that someone broke into his home and interrupted his date with a really comfy bed. But a sliver of fear wormed its way in as he felt the man's weight distribute itself across his back and ass. What if this was some wacko who took one of their songs way too seriously? Necrophilia was all fun and games 'til you were the one on the pointy end of knife.
"You damn fucker, let go!" He bucked his hips and kicked up and back, trying to dislodge the figure above him. Of course, this didn't earn him anything besides a crushing pain in his spine from the knee that drove itself into him further. "damn you!"
The voice sounded further above him as the man reached for something, "Be careful, I don't take to swearing, and might have to stop you from using such vile words."
"Oh fuck you!" Never one to lie there and take it, Brian wrenched his arms free as the other was occupied. He swung hard backwards, 'Marl' curled into a vicious fist, which connected solidly with something. As the man above weezed, Brian hoped it was his chest. He redoubled his bucking efforts, using his now freed hands as leverage.
The darkness enveloping them made it so he never saw the fist coming. Brilliant stars flashed before his eyes as the left side of his face exploded in pain. Brian groaned as his world spun and a quick flash of lightening made the stars dance brighter. Next thing he knew, his body was once again claimed. A telltale ripping sound could be heard through dazed eardrums. He wanted to curse the man out, to tell him fuck no, you ain't putting that shit on me, but the world continued to spin, and though he tried, the only thing that came out was a garbled bunch of vowels and consonants.
Chuckling, the intruder lifted the trapped wrists and began to wrap them together with tape. "Knew this wouldn't be easy, you know. Knew you'd put up a struggle. S'why I chose you instead of the others."
"You're fucking psycho." As the weight removed itself from Brian's back, he tried to free himself, getting only a harsh pinch across his skin for his troubles. "Jesus. I am going to fucking kill you first chance I get."
"Good luck honey, you'll be sooner whimpering on my cock." Another ripping, this time sounding like cloth. A fistful of Brian's disheveled mane, and his head was ripped back. Another flash, and he could see a strip of black cotton before it was pressed to his eyes and the hand released his head. A short tug later, and it was secured.
"Little redundant, don'tcha think? Power's out, dumbass." Earning the bound guitarist another punch to the head, this one making his consciousness waver and dip. "Stop that."
"Stop your smart ass mouth, and I might. Or on second thought..." Yet another ripping sound, and this time Brian could tell what was happening.
"Oh fuck no! Get awa-mrrfh!" Head twisting back and forth, mercy was nonexistent as another knot was tied at the back of his head.
The man leaned over again, blanketing Brian with his body, arousal evident. "Hope you don't mind, I borrowed a shirt. You do have excellent style."
The only answer was a strangled growl and a miscalculated head-butt. With his own answering growl, the captor again grabbed a handful of hair, exposing smooth neck. He traced his tongue along the straining muscles, nearly purring as another grumble sent vibrations along the invasive muscle.
"God you're beautiful." The voice whispered against his ear, sending a surprising shiver down Brian's spine. Then the weight lifted and he was left on the couch, helpless to whatever the man may want to do. Footsteps could be faintly heard amongst the cracking of thunder, slipping upstairs and moving to the bedroom he pined for, minus the visitor.
Go to hell, you sick fuck. Fear spiked and rage boiled, raped in his own fucking house. He paid good money for a security system, the least they could do was add a whole "power outage" safety feature. If his head hadn't still been spinning like a top, Brian would give more thought to the question of what the hell was going to happen to him? The first part being rather obvious by the dick pressed against the back of his thigh, but after that? Shit, this ain't how he wanted to go down. Brian rather wanted there to be cocaine and hookers involved. Or possibly in a nice retirement home with lots of fat grandchildren. Not as someone's bitch, someone who didn't even have the courage to show his face.
While visions of deaths the intruder could create ran rampant in Brian's head, the man came back. The bound man jumped as he was ripped from his own mind and physically picked up, tossed over a surprisingly wide shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Fucking great, I'm vegetation.
A hand slid around the backs of his knees, a preemptive measure against any kicks that might come, the other gripping a firm hold on taped wrists. A low tune was hummed as the man carted his prize up the stairs, grating and atonal.
All we need is a freaking little blonde girl telling me my time is neigh. Ain't the black dude supposed to go first? Fuck, we don't have a black dude!...Zack kinda counts though...Next thing Brian knows, he's airborne, then crashing to his own beloved bed, flailing the only free limbs he has in order to keep from falling off or running into his night stand.
Something that sounded suspiciously like "fucking asshole!" tried to make its way past the cloth shoved in his mouth, but didn't make it all the way through. The voice tutted and grabbed at his ankles, pulling him down the bed and into the center. The worn pants were tugged unceremoniously off, Brian grunting indignantly. Though he still couldn't see, the darkness seemed lighter somehow, like someone had a light on. But the power was out, wasn't it? Before he could kick out again, his right ankle was encircled with more cloth and his left, sat on. Again, something like "fucking pansy" grumbled past cotton. The weight lifted as his left was also tied, leaving Brian wide open.
The guitarist shivered, and though he'd tell you it was fucking cold, the fear of unknown was starting to grate on his senses. He focused on the expensive sheets beneath his naked body, using the familiar to ground himself. Once mentally pulled together, well trained ears listened intently for the other man. Brian cursed as he remembered buying the plushest carpet available, the kind that you couldn't hear a buffalo trampling across.
However, he jumped and stiffened in panic as a weight suddenly dropped across his abdomen, no warning coming as the intruder straddled him. "Hello lover. What say we tame that wilder side, eh?"
Brian's 'fuck you' turned to a pain filled grunt as he felt a scalding pain below his right shoulder. It traveled down the plane of skin, burning slowly. The voice hummed and another pain crossed the middle of his torso, pooling where his stomach dipped.
"Oh, so pretty the way you wiggle for me. Knew you'd be brilliant. I can just tell, ya know? Now lemme hear ya scream." A tongue traced around the now hardened substance on Brian's chest.
Candles? Jesus, he's a romantic type. But of course, tell Brian Haner Jr. to do one thing, and he'll fucking do the other just to piss you off. Or in this case, not give the son of a bitch the satisfaction. But as a line of molten wax started at his navel and traveled clear up to his Adam's apple, it was getting rather hard to control impulse, opting instead to grind his teeth into the fabric surrounding his mouth.
"What babe, not enjoying it?" A rough hand encircled Brian's dick, pumping roughly.
Yes, I frequently get off on being raped. Dumbfuck. But damn, his anatomy sometimes didn't give a flying shit if the hand around him was supposed to be there or not, and the other man knew his way around pleasuring another. A warm mouth suckled at his sensitive nipples while working to get his cock to full attention. Just as Brian was about to give in and let out a pornstar moan, the mouth lifted off and he was hit again with brilliant white heat. And he screamed, long and loud enough that the gag didn't do much to quiet him.
Lips and teeth nipped at his neck, purring "That's better."
And God help him, but Brian whimpered. Oh fucking hell. His body was beginning to confuse the pain with the pleasure, and forget that he had entirely no clue who currently had him bound and making obscene noises. The mouth moved across every inch of agitated skin, peeling away the cold wax, only to replace it with a soothing tongue, a soft lip; every so often, a gentle nip that sent tingle's down the guitarist's back. The hand no longer palmed his cock. Not that it needed it. Brian was overwhelmed by all that this man had put him through. Attacked, tied, blind and mute, then tortured with pain and sweet pleasure. His mind was dizzy, spinning to heights never gone to.
Even then, he was caught by surprise as a finger circled his most private parts. Body jerking, he growled low in his throat. There wasn't much room to move, however, and the digit had soon slid inside with the help of some liquid. It felt cool, then warmed under either a chemical reaction, or simply because the two men were indeed very warm.
"Don't worry baby boy, I'll take care of you. Make you feel real good." And good it did feel as the finger curled and hit Brian's prostate dead fucking. Back arching, he felt all pleasure for the first time, and dear lord, it was good. "Now we're getting somewhere. Always knew you were animal in bed, Synyster."
Two digits made their way inside, Brian's libido only taking a slight hit as he realized that this dude probably didn't even know his real name. Then the spot was hit again, and nothing mattered above his waist. It wasn't like this whole gay sex thing was new to him; it just usually happened after a whole lot more Jager, and with him actually seeing who was fucking him, or who he was fucking. Somehow, in his lust clouded brain, this was kind of a turn on. As he began questioning his sanity, the digits were removed and the weight lifted. GIven other situations, he may have protested, but that might seem a little masochistic at this point.
Gentle hands untied his ankles, rubbing the feeling back into them, Brian completely confused as to why they had fallen asleep in the first place. He hadn't pulled that hard on them. Then his body was forced in half, and thought became reclusive as a cock pressed it's way inside of him. The strangled sound coming from beyond fabric was something a kid to "oh god", bordering on jibberish. He'd forgotten how long it's been since it felt like a dick split him in two, and sometimes, that full feeling was the best in the world.
A dark chuckle above him told him that though the intruder couldn't see his eyes, he knew exactly what Brian was thinking, and that he was giving in, enjoying it for all it was. This pissed him off slightly, but again, thoughts are lost in the abyss of pleasure. The pace was slow, deliberate, every thrust putting the man balls deep inside, hitting dead on. A hand skimmed along his now rock hard dick, murmuring soft words of how beautiful Brian was, spread out for him, taking all the pleasure he could. The man's thrusts grew erratic and a deep yell rang out as he spent himself inside the bound man, driving himself in with enough force to move them towards the headboard.
There was a brief moment of Oh fuck is he safe? I don't want some dumbass stranger with STDs in my ass! which then turned into Oh fuck, fuck me harder, god, right there, RIGHT THERE! And Brian was coming, full on toes curled, back arched, screaming, I-may-not-see-the-light-of-day-after-this orgasm. Which really didn't make sense considering an hour ago, he was pissed a shit an- oh fuck, never mind, I'm tired. He vaguely felt the man turning him over, and cutting off the binds, then gently pulling away both the blindfold and gag, but the now freed man could only curl up with his favorite pillow and hope the dude didn't have an urge to kill him before passing out.
***********
Brian awoke sometime later, not sure how long he slept, with arms wrapped around his own. Heavy breathing told him that the other was still asleep.
"Hey, Matt."
"hurh?"
"Thanks."
"Sure."
"Did you really rip one of my shirts?"
"Nope, knew you'd get bitchy."
Brian grumbled, but realized it was the truth. "How's the laryngitis?"
"'M fine, lemme sleep. Hard work beatin' you to shit, yanno."
Brian laughed, and settled back into his lover's embrace.
AN2: sorry Bri i know this is three times in a row, i'll make you a dommy fuck next time.