Fic: I Know Where to Start (Hockey, Jeff Carter/Mike Richards, Jeff/OFCs, Mike/OFCs, 16000, E) 1/2
Summary: Sex is easy. Sex they can get. It's all the other things they want that they depend on each other for.
Content Notes/Warning: This story includes a 24/7 kink relationship that encompasses D/s, bondage, and spanking, both with a hand and with a hairbrush.
Thank you to Lake for encouragement and nudging to make this better. Title from Avicii's "Wake Me Up.
Story on AO3
Jeff is usually so chill and easygoing that it doesn't take long for his irritated restlessness to make Mike just as irritated, especially because he doesn't get it. There doesn't seem to be any reason for it: things are good in LA, and it's not like Jeff hasn't gotten laid since they've been back.
Maybe he just hasn't gotten laid in the right way. In Philly, there were places they used to go, the two of them into different sides of it but learning it at the same time in the same places. Mike doesn't have any problem with getting something of that now - girls sometimes expect him to be a little rough, or at least don't mind when he is - but it's probably different for Jeff on the other side of it.
"Would you just go out and find a dom?" he snaps, after one more grouchy complaint about how the grocery store didn't have exactly what Jeff wanted.
Jeff glares at him. "I'm a sub so I just need to be slapped around, right? Nice, Richie. Way to buy into all that shit."
"Oh, fuck you." Mike barely manages not to shout. "I don't think that. You don't need it because you're a sub. You need it because you're my friend and because you're driving me crazy and because I know you've gotten laid and that didn't take care of it. And if I were as stressed out as you are right now, I'd go pick up a sub. I know you didn't do it much in Philly, but this is LA. I'm sure you can find someone who can keep it quiet."
They stare at each other for a few seconds before Jeff gives in.
"Fuck," he mutters. "I can't just go out. Maybe no one would know who I am, but LA is the land of opportunity. I'm not going to sub for someone who just wants to sell pictures of it to the highest bidder."
Mike winces; he thinks about that too, but it wouldn't be as bad for him as it would for Jeff. He would just be a little weird. Jeff would get a whole other level of shit. "You need to come up with something because this," he waves a hand to indicate the whole situation, "isn't working."
Jeff rubs a hand over his face. "I know."
They stand there for a bit, adrenaline from their fight fading away. Mike calms down even more when Arnold wanders in demanding attention and he crouches down to give it to him.
Jeff's looking at him with a strange expression when he stands up.
"What?"
"Could I," Jeff starts out hesitantly, and then blurts out, "Could I kneel for you? Just for a little while? Please? I think it might help."
Mike swallows down his first instinct, which is to order Jeff to his knees right there in the kitchen. He's a better dom - and a better friend - than that.
"Are you sure?" he asks instead. "It's not going to make things weird?"
"I think if I could handle taking orders from you as my Captain for three years in Philly, I can handle kneeling for you for a while."
Mike knows what to look for in a sub who might be lying, and he knows all of Jeff's tells, and he's not seeing any of that. He hasn't played in a while either, and having Jeff on his knees for him would probably be good on its own, even if he didn't also want to be in control in response to the way Jeff's been recently.
"Okay," he says, "but not in here. The floor'll be hell on your knees. Living room."
Mike sits on the couch and tosses one of the pillows - he bought for practicality as well as look - on the floor next to his feet.
"There," he says. "Make sure it's comfortable."
He waits it out while Jeff kneels, shifts around so the pillow is where he wants it, and finally settles. Then he squeezes the back of Jeff's neck. He keeps that hand there while he grabs the remote with the other. He flips channels for a bit, and stops on Food Network. It's just interesting enough to keep his attention and neutral enough not to interfere with Jeff's headspace.
He can feel Jeff relaxing under his hand, keeps an eye on his breathing.
They're halfway through the second episode of whatever it is Food Network shows on Sunday afternoons when Jeff sighs and leans into Mike's knee.
"Better?" Mike asks.
"Yeah. Thanks."
Mike squeezes the back of his neck. "You're welcome."
*
Mike lets it be for a couple of calmer days, before he says, "So. The other day," after they've finished eating but before Jeff can get up from the table. "When you were kneeling for me," he clarifies, just in case Jeff can't figure out what it is they need to talk about.
Jeff makes a face at him. "Do we have to talk about it?"
Mike makes a face back at him. "Yes."
"It was good," Jeff says. "It helped. Can we stop talking about it?"
Mike puts his hand on Jeff's wrist. "Not yet." He rubs his thumb over the inside of Jeff's wrist, which is a dirty trick, but he's not above cheating. "What did you like?"
"Uh." Jeff stares at Mike's hand for a second before he answers. "Kneeling. Being comfortable. Your hand on my neck."
"Good." Mike squeezes Jeff's wrist, reward for being honest. "I liked that too. I liked watching you calm down. Anything you would change?"
There's a twitch of unhappiness on Jeff's lips.
"What?"
"Sandra Lee," Jeff says. "I can't stand her. It was harder to get there while you were watching her."
Mike stares at him for a long second before he chuckles. "Okay," he says, "no Sandra Lee." He lets go of Jeff's wrist.
"What about you?" Jeff asks it kind of grudgingly, and he rubs his wrist while he does. "Anything you would change?"
Mike shrugs. "I'd rather do without the three days of crankiness beforehand, but other than that it was good." He stands up and takes both of their plates. "Now we can stop talking about it."
*
Jeff wanders into the kitchen one afternoon when Mike's finishing off a bottle of Gatorade and sort of idly thinking about a snack and says, "Would you, uh, tie me up?"
Mike blinks, and looks at him. They don't have anywhere to be until tomorrow, and he already took Arnold out. They have the uninterrupted time for it, and it's not like Mike has a problem tying people up, or playing with Jeff.
He drinks the rest of his Gatorade. "What do you want out of it?"
"I want," Jeff looks down, and he's twisting one hand around the opposite wrist, "to not have to do anything. To give it all up to someone else."
And Mike likes to be in charge. He tosses the empty Gatorade bottle into the recycling. "Cuffs or rope?"
Jeff's eyes widen, and he says, sounding a little like Mike just offered him the Stanley Cup, Olympic gold, and an unending contract all in one, "Rope."
"Do you need a word, or do you want me to stop if you say stop?"
"Stop if I say stop."
Mike nods. "Okay. Go upstairs, my room. Take off your shirt and shorts, underwear's up to you, and lie down on your back on the bed."
Jeff turns around and goes.
Mike waits until he can hear Jeff's footsteps on the stairs before he stretches his arms out and gets a couple of bottles of water out of the fridge. He checks on Arnold to make sure he isn't going to need anything, and only then does he go upstairs.
Jeff's on the bed in just his underwear, his clothes folded neatly over the back of the chair in the corner. His breathing's a little uneven, but not anything to worry about.
Mike ignores him, closes the door to keep Arnold out, puts the water bottles down on one of the nightstands, and goes into the closet. There's rope in the box in the corner of the top shelf, and a pair of sturdy scissors. Mike puts the scissors on the nightstand and lets the lengths of rope pool on the bed. His bed frame isn't the best for this - if he's ever going to play with people regularly, he's going to have to get something better - but he walks around it attaching lengths of rope to it with sturdy knots that don't give when he pulls on them. He takes his time, and listens to Jeff while he does it.
Jeff's breathing settles down somewhere in there, and it's pretty even when Mike picks up one of his hands and loops some rope around his wrist. He ties a knot that's secure but easier to pull apart than the ones on the bed, and ties the rope to one of the lengths attached to the bed.
He does the other wrist before he has Jeff pull on them. There isn't much play; he can't go more than an inch in any one direction, and the knots hold.
"I don't want to struggle," Jeff says.
"Uh-huh," Mike says. "And how much are you going to like it if you know it's not going to hold you?" He doesn't wait for an answer before he ties Jeff's ankles and makes him tug on those too. Mike doesn't like the angle, and he reties them, makes Jeff tug on them again.
It leaves him with a lot of rope, and he takes his time with it. He runs a length under Jeff and ties it around his waist, another around his chest, ties both of those to the ropes around his wrists. He ties loops around Jeff's biceps and halfway between his wrists and elbows, and ties them off to the rope around his chest and waist. Loops around his calves get tied to his ankles, and the ones around his thighs to the one around his waist.
Jeff's breathing deep and even, and he has his eyes closed and all his muscles are relaxed. Mike's just as relaxed, in the alert way he gets when he has someone firmly under his control.
Mike puts the rest of the rope on the nightstand and taps Jeff's arm. "Pull on all of that."
Jeff does, and none of it gives.
"Anything too tight?"
"No." Jeff's voice is soft and hazy.
"Anything too loose?"
It takes a moment before Jeff says, "Right thigh."
Mike reties it tighter. "Better?"
Jeff shifts a little, and his mouth curves into a smile. "Yeah."
Mike squeezes his thigh and moves up to sit on the bed by Jeff's shoulder. He puts his hand on Jeff, not his neck because they didn't talk about that and he's not sure how Jeff would react to it, but just below his throat, over his collarbones.
Jeff makes a noise, but it's not a bad noise, so Mike keeps his hand there. It reminds Jeff he's there, and he can feel Jeff's breath.
Mike sits there for a while, watching Jeff stay calm under his hand and his ropework. His control. He really needs to play more for how good it makes him feel.
He can feel the change in Jeff's body when he starts to come back from it, and he rubs his hand over Jeff's collarbones, over to his shoulder.
"You ready for me to untie you?"
Jeff's hands flex, and he stretches against the rope before he says, "Yeah," still hazy.
Mike squeezes his shoulder and gets off the bed. The rope comes off easier than it went on. He pulls on the knots, coils the rope into piles on the floor. He goes backwards: thighs, calves, lower arms, upper arms, chest, waist, ankles, and wrists last. He leaves the rope tied to the bed frame; he can get that later.
"Sit up," he says. "I want you to drink this." He uncaps one of the water bottles and puts his hand on Jeff's back to make sure he can sit up without getting dizzy.
Jeff leans on him while he drinks, and he's shivering enough that Mike asks, "Cold?" when he's done and Mike guides him to lie down again.
"A little."
Mike pulls the blankets up over Jeff, who curls himself into a ball under them. Mike finishes Jeff's bottle of water and runs his hand over Jeff's hair. "Cuddling or no cuddling?" He wants to stay close, but not if it's not going to work for Jeff.
Jeff leans into Mike's hand. "Yes, please."
Mike squeezes the back of his neck and carefully climbs over him so he can slide under the blankets and align himself with Jeff without making Jeff move. He puts one arm over Jeff to hold him there. "Good?"
"Yeah." Jeff relaxes a little out of his tight curl. "Thank you." He puts his hand over Mike's on his stomach. "This was really good."
Mike holds him a little closer. "You're welcome. You were really good."
*
"There isn't much in here," Mike says, looking over the contents of the refrigerator while he's getting a bottle of water. "We should probably make a shopping list. What are you cooking this week?"
"You make a list," Jeff says. "It's your fucking house."
"Are you trying to-" Mike stops before he finishes the question, and reconsiders the past two days of petulance and petty arguments from another perspective. He manages to ask, "Do you want me to punish you?" calmly.
The way Jeff looks away from him means he's got it right. Mike doesn't much like being manipulated into it, but it doesn't actually sound like a bad idea. He's annoyed enough to make it real without being so angry he'll push harder than Jeff can take.
"What do you think an appropriate punishment would be?"
Jeff looks at him, and then away again. "A spanking?"
Mike breathes in and out a couple of times. "You're going to need a word."
"Red."
Mike nods. "Red and I stop. Go into the living room. Pants and shirt off, underwear up to you."
Mike spends a minute breathing while Jeff moves around. As good as it's going to feel to smack Jeff's ass for a while, he really doesn't like being manipulated into it.
He calls for Arnold and locks him in the garage with a squeaky toy and one of his doggie beds to keep him out of the way.
Jeff is waiting in the living room. He's all the way naked this time, standing by one arm of the couch and looking a little more unsure about it.
Mike sits down in the center of the couch, makes himself more or less comfortable, and says, "Over my knees."
Mike watches Jeff carefully, making him do all the work, but also making sure it's not uncomfortable in ways it's not supposed to be. Mad or not, he's still responsible for Jeff right now.
He doesn't wait for Jeff to settle all the way before he smacks him, which gets an indrawn breath of sound from Jeff.
"You don't have to count," Mike says, "and you don't have to be quiet."
He hits Jeff, and again, and again, and again. He settles into a rhythm, evenly timed, even strength, until Jeff's relaxed under his hands and Mike wants more out of it than he's getting, and then he hits harder. He lets Jeff get used to that, ride it out for a while, and then he hits harder again.
This time Jeff swears. He keeps swearing as Mike hits him, and the next time Mike hits harder, his voice breaks and he starts crying in muffled gasps. He's still relaxed, body limp and pliant over Mike's lap, so Mike keeps going. He didn't ask exactly what Jeff wanted out of this, but he wanted to be punished, and he hasn't safeworded out, hasn't even said as much as "stop."
When Mike's hand really starts to hurt and Jeff's crying is dying down into soft, wordless gasps, Mike says, "Ten more."
After ten, he stops. His hand is on fire, and Jeff's ass has to be worse. He feels good, though, calm, all his anger burned away. He rubs Jeff's back with his other hand and listens to Jeff's breathing slow. It takes a while before Mike feels okay saying, "Let me up."
He helps Jeff up enough that he can slide out from under him, and then he guides Jeff right back down. "Stay there. I'll be right back." He squeezes the back of Jeff's neck as a promise.
He takes the stairs as quickly as he can without making the kind of noise that might unsettle Jeff. If Jeff had given him more notice, he would have something downstairs, but at least he knows exactly where the lotion he wants is.
Jeff is just where Mike left him when he comes back with the bottle. His ass is bright red, and he has his head turned toward the back of the couch.
Mike says, "I'm going to put some lotion on that," so Jeff knows he's there. He rubs the lotion in carefully, and strokes Jeff's back when he's done. "I'm going to the kitchen for a minute. When you're ready, get up and put on your underwear." Mike waits for Jeff's murmur of acknowledgment before he goes to the kitchen for a couple of bottles of water and an ice pack.
Jeff's standing, cheeks still damp and eyes down, when Mike gets back.
Mike uncaps a bottle of water. "Here." He gives it to Jeff and watches to make sure Jeff drinks most of it. Then he takes it and puts it on the coffee table with the other one and sits at one end of the couch. "Lie down." He pats his thighs. "Head here. Ass up."
Jeff does, and relaxes with a sigh.
"This is going to be cold," Mike warns him, and he puts the ice pack on Jeff's ass. He set the DVR to record some Food Network stuff that isn't Sandra Lee, so he pulls that up and rests his burning hand on the ice pack while they watch. Jeff's occasional shivers get more frequent about the time Mike would take the ice pack off anyway, so he tosses it onto the coffee table and pulls the blanket down from the back of the couch. He gets Jeff covered with it and asks, "Okay?"
Jeff rubs his cheek against Mike's thigh. "Yeah." His voice is tired but not rough enough for Mike to worry about it.
Mike strokes Jeff's hair for a moment, and leaves his hand on the back of Jeff's neck.
*
They go out of town two days later, and Mike doesn't get much time alone with Jeff on the road, definitely not enough time to talk about it. They need to, but Mike lets it go the night they get home, just drives them back to the house so they can stumble up the stairs to bed. They both sleep in the next morning, Mike later than Jeff, and Jeff gathers up their laundry and throws a load in the wash while Mike gets through a cup of coffee.
They don't talk about it until after lunch, when they're picking at the last of a couple of boxes of Chinese food.
"We're talking about last week," Mike says.
Jeff puts his fork down and rests his hands on the edge of the table.
"Was it what you wanted?" Mike asks.
"Yes." Jeff looks up at Mike, then away and flushes. "I wanted it to hurt."
"Anything you wanted different?"
Jeff still doesn't look at him, but he twists one hand around his other wrist. "It's better if my hands are tied."
Mike takes that in and watches Jeff not look at him. He could handle tying Jeff's hands. Would love to tie Jeff's hands, make him look less nervous about this. "I liked making you feel that," he says. "I did not like you provoking your way into it."
Jeff doesn't answer, and Mike lets them sit in silence until Jeff offers up, "Sorry."
Good enough. Mike nods. "Now let's talk about the whole thing. Once or twice is helping you out. Three times is the start of a pattern."
The flush on Jeff's face spreads all the way up to his hair and down to his neck. "I guess."
Mike shakes his head. Figures this would be the place where Jeff's so caught up in his head that he can't see they're on the same page. "I'm not saying no."
That gets Jeff to look at him. "You're not?"
"No. You're a good sub. I like playing with you. I'm saying let's talk about it instead of you winding us both up for days to get what you want."
Jeff makes a face. "That makes me sound like a terrible sub."
Mike concedes the point with a nod and half a smile. "You're good when we're playing. So let's figure this out, or let's find you a dom."
"I'd rather it be you."
Mike would rather have that too. "Okay," he says. "Just to put this out there, I don't want to fuck you."
The face Jeff makes at that makes him laugh.
"I don't want to fuck you either."
"Good," Mike says. "We're on the same page. So, what? You want to just ask me when you want something? Want to make regular play dates?"
"Um."
Mike tries his best to stay patient when he says, "You're going to have to learn to ask for things."
Jeff doesn't look at him, but he does talk. "You could tell me what to do. Not all the time. Not out there," he makes a gesture toward the walls, "but in here. When it's just us."
Mike sits back in his chair, because that's more than he expected. He takes a minute to think about it. It's not something he's ever done, obviously, but he probably could. He would probably like it, Jeff doing what he says.
"Full-time," he clarifies, "like, you'd have to do what I say whenever it's just us here?"
"Yes."
Mike exhales and sits forward. "Okay," he says. "What do you like?"
"I have a list," Jeff says, and he glances up to meet Mike's eyes. "Something I read said you should make one so you know what you like and what you don't."
"I'll want to see it," Mike says, "and I'll give you mine too. But we'll get to that. Tell me what you like."
Jeff hesitates for a moment before he answers. "You being in control. Bondage. Kneeling for you. I liked it when your hand was on my neck."
"You liked when I punished you," Mike says. "Pain?"
"Sometimes." Jeff's back to looking away. "Not all the time, but sometimes I want it to hurt. What do you like?"
Mike says, "Being in control," without hesitation, and grins at Jeff's snort. "I liked tying you up. I can do pain, but it's more about being in control of what you feel."
Jeff's hand goes to the back of his neck. "Does that mean we can do this?"
"We can try it, see if it works. A couple of days?"
"A week?" Jeff ducks his head a little and looks up at Mike. It's a manipulative trick, but a week sounds fine to Mike.
"A week," he agrees, "and then we'll see if we want to keep going or change things. Tell me if you want to stop or you don't want something. I'll let you know if we're doing something you'll need more of a word for." Mike waits for Jeff's agreement before he asks, "Anything else you want to negotiate?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." Jeff looks up at him, and then down again. "Would you just tell me what to do already?"
"I'll tell you what to do when I want to." Mike reaches across the table and squeezes his wrist, settling into what it feels like to be in control of Jeff again. "And you'll be polite when you ask for what you want."
Jeff nods, and Mike lets go of him and sits back. He just looks at Jeff for a long minute. "Clean up." He gestures at the table. "I'm going to take a nap. You can do whatever you want after this is cleaned up. I'm not going to micromanage you. When I'm not telling you what to do, things are the same."
Jeff squares his shoulders and closes boxes, gathers up their plates. He says, "Thank you," just before he takes things into the kitchen.
Mike watches him go. Jeff's relaxed, and there's a little bit of a smile on his face when he turns at an angle where Mike can see him.
Mike keeps watching for a bit. Jeff makes a questioning face at him when he comes back for the rest of the boxes. Mike shrugs at him, trusting Jeff to know that means he doesn't want anything more than to watch Jeff do what Mike told him to.
*
A week of their lives only translates into a few days where they're at home alone for any length of time. Mike tells Jeff to make lunch or dinner a couple of times, he has Jeff kneel for him a while they watch TV or Mike answers emails and texts, and he puts Jeff up against a wall one afternoon and ties his wrists to his ankles with rope so taut he can barely move. It's even better than Mike thought it would be. Jeff's a great sub when he's not acting out to get what he wants and domming fills Mike with a kind of satisfaction he didn't know he was missing until he had it again.
They have a day off after an away game in the middle of their week. Mike catches up to Jeff after the game and asks, "You have plans for tomorrow?"
"No." Jeff glances around, which he doesn't need to do; Mike already made sure no one's paying attention to them. "Are you making plans?"
"Yes." Mike catches Jeff's wrist and squeezes for a second. "Keep the day free."
Jeff leans against his shoulder for a brief second, short enough that it'll look like he's just bumping against him.
*
Mike sleeps late, and Jeff already has coffee made and breakfast ready to be made when he gets downstairs. Mike takes his cup of coffee from Jeff and leans against the counter to watch Jeff make breakfast. They sit at the table to eat, and Mike sends Jeff to wash the dishes while he goes upstairs to set up.
"I left some things for you on your bed," Mike says when he comes downstairs and Jeff's done. "Put them on."
Jeff hesitates for a moment. "What about Arnold?"
"The sitter's keeping him until tomorrow." Mike points at the stairs. "Go."
He settles onto the couch and flips channels. There's more Food Network on the DVR, but he's not watching cooking shows all day. He settles on Oddities and is just getting into it when Jeff comes downstairs and waits at the edge of the room. Mike makes him wait until it goes to commercial before he acknowledges Jeff.
"Long sleeves and sweats?" Jeff asks. He has on the clothes Mike left out for him, and there are cuffs just visible at his wrists and ankles.
"I'm going to put you under and keep you there all day." Mike watches Jeff shiver at his words. "I wanted you to be comfortable." He drops one of the pillows onto the floor. "Here. Knees." He waits until Jeff makes himself comfortable before he touches him, hand on the back of his neck. Jeff makes a noise, and Mike squeezes. "I won't keep you there long enough for your knees to hurt."
Jeff mmms. "I know."
Mike squeezes the back of his neck again, acknowledgement of Jeff's trust and reminder that Mike's in control. He keeps half his attention on Jeff, enough to make sure he's still okay. After a while, he squeezes the back of Jeff's neck and says, "Come up here. On your side, head in my lap. Careful." He keeps a hand on Jeff, ready to catch him if he has trouble, but Jeff pulls himself up easily enough. Mike takes clips out of his pockets and leans over to clip Jeff's ankle cuffs together, then his wrists.
The look Jeff turns on him is positively adoring.
Mike strokes his hair in reward and his own gesture to let Jeff know the feeling is returned. "Tell me if it gets uncomfortable."
They spend the rest of the morning there. Mike lets Jeff up for bathroom breaks, and sends him to the kitchen for water. They go from Oddities to How It's Made, and then Mike picks Good Eats, which he's seen Jeff watch, from the DVR. When it's over, he warns Jeff, "I'm going to order lunch," before he takes his phone out and calls in an order. The warning also means Jeff doesn't jump when the doorbell rings.
"Stay here." Mike gets Jeff to lift up enough that he can get up, and he pays for the food and sets it out on the table before he goes to retrieve Jeff. He unclips Jeff and drops the clips into his pocket. Then he picks up one of the pillows and tucks it under his arm before he helps Jeff up.
He puts the pillow down next to his chair. "Sit," he tells Jeff. "However you'll be comfortable." He makes up two plates while Jeff gets settled and gives one of them to Jeff. Mike strokes Jeff's hair every once in a while and they eat in silence until their plates are clear and Mike asks if Jeff wants anything else. He dishes up the rice and beef and broccoli Jeff asks for and keeps his hand on Jeff until he's done. Jeff is as deep under as he can be and still have the focus to eat, and Mike's breath is even and steady, everything in his world calm and under his control.
Mike breaks Jeff's fortune cookie into pieces for him, reads the fortune to him - "If you continually give, you will continually have." - and hand feeds him the cookie pieces.
After lunch, he sends Jeff to clean up the dishes and leftovers. He takes the cushion back to the couch and goes to lean on a counter and watch Jeff finish putting things away. When he's done, Mike clips his wrists together.
"Ready for a nap?"
Jeff nods. "Yes." His voice is soft, and a little rough.
Mike leads him upstairs and into his room and pushes him down into his bed. "Are you going to be able to sleep with your wrists tied?"
Jeff pulls his hands in close to his chest, as if Mike would unclip them if Jeff didn't want him to. "Yes."
"Wake me up if you need something. That's an order." Mike waits for Jeff's acknowledgment before he stretches out next to him and puts an arm over him.
Mike can tell, when he wakes up, that Jeff's already awake. He turns Jeff over onto his back. "Still good?"
Jeff smiles up at him, still so deep he looks like he's drugged. "I'm great."
Mike grins down at him and squeezes his shoulder. "You're doing great." He unclips Jeff's wrists and sends him to the bathroom, then puts him back on his bed. "Stay there."
Mike grins at himself in the mirror when he goes to the bathroom; he looks almost as high as Jeff.
In the bedroom, Mike pulls out the straps he'd hidden under the edges of the mattress. He clips Jeff's cuffs, wrist and ankle, to the straps and tightens them until Jeff can't move. Mike knows by now that Jeff always goes for rope when given the choice, but he's so far under that it won't take much to keep him there. Mike likes the rope too, but right now he wants to just enjoy having Jeff under more than he wants to spend the time on rope.
He sits next to Jeff when he's satisfied with how he's tied down, and Jeff turns his head to smile at him.
"Thank you," Jeff says. "This is so good. You're so good to me."
Mike puts his hands on either side of Jeff's face, and strokes his hair. He's never loved any sub he's played with the way he loves Jeff.
He keeps Jeff tied for a while, stroking his hair and touching his shoulders. Mike doesn't get bored, exactly, but he gets antsy after a while, sitting there for too long, and he unclips Jeff and makes him move carefully in case any of his limbs have fallen asleep.
Mike lets Jeff curl up next to him and nuzzle into his hip for a bit before he gets Jeff up, hand on his elbow because Jeff's pretty deep under now and Mike doesn't know what that's going to do to his balance. They take the stairs carefully.
It's a tough fit, but Mike gets them both lying down on the couch, and then he turns on the TV to something unremarkable and turns the sound down. He wraps his arms around Jeff instead of clipping his cuffs together; Jeff will like the contact, and Mike wants him to have his hands free in case this turns out to be a bad enough fit that one of them falls off the couch.
"All right, up," Mike says later. "I'm going to order dinner." He squeezes Jeff's shoulder. "You can sit." He goes into the kitchen to call it in, so it's still quiet around Jeff. He comes back to find that Jeff is sitting on one of the pillows on the floor. Jeff is definitely the best sub he's ever played with, completely trusting, putting himself entirely under Mike's control, even when Mike doesn't give him explicit orders. Mike sits down next to him and rubs his fingers over Jeff's scalp until dinner gets there.
Mike takes the food to the table, then comes back for Jeff. He has Jeff kneel next to him, and he makes up one plate. He feeds Jeff from his plate, holds a cup to Jeff's lips for sips of water. It takes longer that way, but Jeff keeps swaying into him, and that's worth it.
After they eat, Mike cups Jeff's chin. "I need you to come back a little. Come on. I want you to clean up." He has to wait for it, but when Jeff's a little more with it, he sends him to the kitchen.
They hang out in the living room for a while - Mike sits on the couch and tells Jeff to lie down with his head on Mike's thigh, which Jeff does with his face tucked into Mike's stomach - and Mike checks his email and pets Jeff's hair.
Mike's tired and Jeff's half asleep when Mike decides it's time for bed even though it's still early. He walks Jeff upstairs and stops in the hallway.
"We're not done, but I'm going to take the cuffs off now." He squeezes Jeff's wrists. "I want you to go get ready for bed, whatever you usually do, and then come to my room." He takes the cuffs off Jeff's wrists first, then crouches down to get the ones around his ankles.
Mike puts the cuffs away, brushes his teeth and changes into something he can sleep in, and then spends a minute cleaning up. He tucks the straps under the bed, throws clothes in the hamper, sets out two short lengths of soft rope neatly on the nightstand.
When Jeff comes to his room, Mike looks out to make sure the rest of the lights in the house are off, then closes his door. "These shouldn't get in your way while you sleep," he says, and he ties a length of rope around each of Jeff's wrists. It's softer than the cuffs, but it's still a reminder for Jeff that Mike's in control, that Mike will tie him up because he loves it, and Mike loves giving that to him. "Wake me up if you need to, or you can take it off in the morning."
He tucks Jeff into bed, turns off the light, and climbs in with him. He barely has to prompt Jeff at all before Jeff is curling into him.
"Thank you," Jeff says. His voice is the barest rasp of a whisper.
"Thank you," Mike says. "You've been so, so good today."
"You make it easy."
*
It takes Mike a minute to wake up enough to register that Jeff's also awake. Of course he is; Jeff always gets up before he does.
Mike grunts out a greeting, then makes himself wake up enough to be responsible. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Jeff says.
Mike turns Jeff onto his back and props himself up on an elbow to look down at him.
Jeff smiles up at him. He's not gone like he was yesterday, but he's relaxed. Loose. "I'm good," he says. "Really good. I just didn't want." He shrugs a little.
Mike sits up and knuckles the sleep out of his eyes. "You could've woken me up." He picks up one of Jeff's hands and unties the rope around his wrist. He lets the rope drop onto the bed and does the other wrist.
Jeff sits up, stretches, and hugs Mike. "Thank you."
Mike hugs him back and pats his shoulder. "You're welcome." He yawns wide enough to crack his jaw. "Now get your morning person ass out of my bed."
Jeff laughs as he goes, and Mike grins and lets himself fall back into bed for a while.
*
They go out with some of the guys, and Mike is at the bar ordering a drink and getting the lay of the land when his phone buzzes.
There's a text from Jeff asking, Are you going to hook up?
It's still early in the evening to be making that decision for sure, so Mike sends back, Maybe. He catches Jeff's eye across the room, so he knows that's not what Jeff was looking for even before he gets Jeff's next text.
Is it OK if I hook up?
Mike blinks at his phone - permission wasn't what he was expecting Jeff to look for - and quickly types out, Sex isn't part of our deal. If you want to hook up, hook up. He hits send and then erases the whole exchange.
They end up, later, at a table with a couple of girls - Kristy and Ali - who are friends, and who are pretty into them. Their usual thing of Mike talking and Jeff providing the occasional laconic contribution works well enough that the four of them pile into a cab when they leave the bar. A quick, silent, negotiation puts Mike in the front with the driver and Jeff in the back with the girls.
Mike offers them drinks at the house. The girls exchange a look - they must pick up together as much as Mike and Jeff do - and Ali takes Mike's hand.
"Why don't you take me upstairs?"
Mike's too mature to do something stupid like exchange a thumbs-up with Jeff behind the girls' backs, but they get the same idea across with just a look.
Ali takes her shirt off after Mike closes the door to his room. He does a quick glance around to make sure he didn't leave anything she shouldn't see lying around, and then he turns his attention to Ali's really quite nice breasts.
She won't blow him, but she jerks him off a little while he makes sure she's really wet and into this, and then they fuck in his bed.
Mike's not sure if the noises he can hear Kristy making all the way from Jeff's room are making the afterglow better or worse, and says as much to Ali.
"She's kind of a screamer," Ali says, and then she cocks her head and listens for a moment. "She's riding his face."
"What?" Mike splutters with a laugh.
Ali shrugs as best as she can while lying in his bed with his arm around her. "We used to live together. I've heard her enough. She only sounds like that when she's riding someone's face."
Well, Mike thinks but doesn't say, at least Jeff's probably getting off on it.
*
They're out of town on the last day of their week. Mike has errands to run and laundry to do in what's left of the morning after he gets up the next day, they have skate in the afternoon, and then they go out to dinner with some of the guys. Mike can honestly say he's too tired to go out after that, and Jeff glances at him before following his lead.
"You could've gone with them," Mike says in the car.
"Not really feeling it," Jeff says. "Are we going to talk?"
Mike's too tired for clubbing or bar hopping, but not too tired for negotiating. "If you want," he says. "It can wait until tomorrow."
"I'd rather today," Jeff says.
Mike nods, and they don't talk on the rest of the way home.
Mike takes Arnold out after they get home, and comes back into the house to find Jeff sitting at the table with a bottle of water in front of him and another at Mike's place across the table. Mike uncaps his and drinks half of it in one go.
Jeff seems to be waiting for Mike to take the lead, so he starts with. "That was a week and you've had some time to think about it. Did you like it?"
"Yes," Jeff says without hesitation.
Mike was expecting that, so he prods a little deeper. "Was it what you wanted?" It was what Jeff said he wanted, but things don't always work the way people think they will.
"Yes," Jeff says.
Mike's used to Jeff's reticence and can usually get what he wants out of him from context, but that's not enough here. "You're going to have to give me more than that," he says without heat. Jeff does have to tell him more, but he's not surprised or particularly upset that he has to push to get it.
Jeff fidgets with his water bottle for a moment. Mike lets him because he knows the difference between Jeff not saying much and Jeff figuring out what he wants to say.
"It was like," Jeff finally says, "you put me under for a whole day, which was-" Jeff's eyes meet his, and they're shining with the same kind of ecstasy from when he was under all day.
Mike nods to let Jeff know that he gets it and that Jeff doesn't have to try to find the words to describe that.
"The whole time was a little like that," Jeff says. "Not as intense, but I could feel it the whole time, that you could just put me under any time you wanted."
Mike shudders a little, because he certainly felt gratifyingly in control, but he didn't know he was getting Jeff that deep. He takes a breath to stay calm, and then remembers this is Jeff and he doesn't need to keep anything from him.
"Fuck, Cartsy."
Jeff flushes, and Mike grabs his wrist before he can get even more uncomfortable.
"I want to put you on your knees right now."
Jeff meets his eyes. "You could."
Mike exhales hard and lets go of him. "Not until we talk about it. You'd do it again?"
"Mike," Jeff says with a look that says Mike is being an idiot, "I would do it all the time."
If Mike were still holding onto him, he'd be tightening his grip right now.
"Right," Mike says, trying to stay focused enough to do this right. "Okay. We should do another set period of time. Make sure it works longer term. A month?"
"Yes."
"Anything you want to change? Limits, or anything you want me to do?"
"No other limits." Jeff hesitates.
"Come on," Mike says. "You have to ask for the things you want."
"Rope," Jeff says, flushing. "I want you to tie me up more."
Mike has some rope he hasn't even used on Jeff yet. He shakes off the thought of how good that's going to be so he can figure out if there's anything else they need to cover.
"Hooking up," he says, and then laughs at Jeff's expression. "Not us, asshole. With other people. You don't need my permission." He looks at Jeff for a long moment, thinking about Jeff saying, "all the time," and asking if he could hook up, then amends it to, "Or you always have my permission, if that's better."
Jeff nods. "Okay."
"Okay," Mike says. "Anything else?"
"No. You?"
"No." Mike drinks from from his water to give them both a minute to let it sink in. "Want to come kneel in the living room for a while before bed?"
Jeff says, "Yes," almost before Mike is finished speaking, and Mike can feel the weight of it settling into him.
*
Mike takes a hit in a home game against the Sharks. It's not bad - the trainers and Stevens lean over him to talk about it once he gets off the ice, but he goes back out for his next shift and he plays the rest of the game - but it's enough that his shoulder hurts like hell.
He spends some time with the doc and the trainers after the game, having his shoulder poked and prodded and being told what to do about it. They drove to the rink together, so Jeff is hanging around waiting for him when he's done, and Mike's too irritated and in pain to be nice about having made him wait.
Jeff doesn't say anything to him about it, just holds out his hand for the keys.
Mike scowls but hands them over. He could drive with his shoulder if he had to, but he's pissed off, not stupid.
They don't talk in the car. Mike keeps switching radio stations, then plugs in his iPod and scrolls through playlists without letting any of them play for very long.
Arnold comes rushing to meet them when Mike opens the door to the house. Mike leans down to pet him and winces when it pulls on his shoulder.
"Okay, buddy, I'll take you out."
"No, you won't." Jeff puts his hand on Mike's back when he stands and pushes him into the house. "You're going to put ice on your shoulder and I'm going to take him out." He keeps up the steady pressure on Mike's back all the way to the couch.
It's funny, because they're home alone, and Mike is mad but not at Jeff, so he can almost laugh when he asks, "You're bossing me around now?"
"Yes. I'll kneel for you after I take Arnold out if you want, but right now you're going to put some ice on that, and if you try to argue with me I will stop this whole thing."
Mike knows enough to know that when Jeff gets stubborn like this, there's no getting around him.
Jeff gets him an ice pack from the freezer and makes sure he's comfortable on the couch before he leaves him with the remote, his phone, and a bottle of Gatorade.
It's late, but Mike's not going to be able to sleep yet, so he turns on the TV and replies to texts while he waits for the ice to make his shoulder feel better.
Jeff and Arnold aren't gone long, and Arnold noses at Mike's hands and knees before he turns himself around a couple of times and flops down on the floor in front of the couch.
"That's my spot," Jeff says mildly. He makes his feet fit between bits of Arnold and the couch and leans over Mike. "How's the shoulder?"
"Fucking hurts."
Jeff hmms. "Do you want me on my knees? If not, I could sit with you."
Mike closes his eyes for a moment. He doesn't have it in him to figure Jeff out right now. "You have to ask for what you want." He snaps it, which he probably shouldn't have, but Jeff just looks at him steadily for a second before he answers.
"I want you to feel better. Do you want me to kneel, or do you want to lean on me?"
It takes all the fight out of Mike. "Come sit with me." He doesn't want the responsibility of Jeff on his knees right now, and Jeff will like the contact.
Jeff manhandles him a little getting them comfortable with Jeff supporting his shoulder. Then he pushes Mike's hand off the ice pack and takes over making sure it doesn't move so all Mike has to do is sit there and let him.
"Thanks," Mike says after a while, when he's starting to feel a little better. "Sorry I was an asshole."
Jeff rests his cheek against Mike's good shoulder. "I know how you get. And you'll make it up to me."
There are advantages to having known each other for more than a decade, and that's one of them.
"I bought you some rope," Mike says, and he can feel Jeff's shiver. "When my shoulder's better, we'll play with it."
Part 2
Content Notes/Warning: This story includes a 24/7 kink relationship that encompasses D/s, bondage, and spanking, both with a hand and with a hairbrush.
Thank you to Lake for encouragement and nudging to make this better. Title from Avicii's "Wake Me Up.
Story on AO3
Jeff is usually so chill and easygoing that it doesn't take long for his irritated restlessness to make Mike just as irritated, especially because he doesn't get it. There doesn't seem to be any reason for it: things are good in LA, and it's not like Jeff hasn't gotten laid since they've been back.
Maybe he just hasn't gotten laid in the right way. In Philly, there were places they used to go, the two of them into different sides of it but learning it at the same time in the same places. Mike doesn't have any problem with getting something of that now - girls sometimes expect him to be a little rough, or at least don't mind when he is - but it's probably different for Jeff on the other side of it.
"Would you just go out and find a dom?" he snaps, after one more grouchy complaint about how the grocery store didn't have exactly what Jeff wanted.
Jeff glares at him. "I'm a sub so I just need to be slapped around, right? Nice, Richie. Way to buy into all that shit."
"Oh, fuck you." Mike barely manages not to shout. "I don't think that. You don't need it because you're a sub. You need it because you're my friend and because you're driving me crazy and because I know you've gotten laid and that didn't take care of it. And if I were as stressed out as you are right now, I'd go pick up a sub. I know you didn't do it much in Philly, but this is LA. I'm sure you can find someone who can keep it quiet."
They stare at each other for a few seconds before Jeff gives in.
"Fuck," he mutters. "I can't just go out. Maybe no one would know who I am, but LA is the land of opportunity. I'm not going to sub for someone who just wants to sell pictures of it to the highest bidder."
Mike winces; he thinks about that too, but it wouldn't be as bad for him as it would for Jeff. He would just be a little weird. Jeff would get a whole other level of shit. "You need to come up with something because this," he waves a hand to indicate the whole situation, "isn't working."
Jeff rubs a hand over his face. "I know."
They stand there for a bit, adrenaline from their fight fading away. Mike calms down even more when Arnold wanders in demanding attention and he crouches down to give it to him.
Jeff's looking at him with a strange expression when he stands up.
"What?"
"Could I," Jeff starts out hesitantly, and then blurts out, "Could I kneel for you? Just for a little while? Please? I think it might help."
Mike swallows down his first instinct, which is to order Jeff to his knees right there in the kitchen. He's a better dom - and a better friend - than that.
"Are you sure?" he asks instead. "It's not going to make things weird?"
"I think if I could handle taking orders from you as my Captain for three years in Philly, I can handle kneeling for you for a while."
Mike knows what to look for in a sub who might be lying, and he knows all of Jeff's tells, and he's not seeing any of that. He hasn't played in a while either, and having Jeff on his knees for him would probably be good on its own, even if he didn't also want to be in control in response to the way Jeff's been recently.
"Okay," he says, "but not in here. The floor'll be hell on your knees. Living room."
Mike sits on the couch and tosses one of the pillows - he bought for practicality as well as look - on the floor next to his feet.
"There," he says. "Make sure it's comfortable."
He waits it out while Jeff kneels, shifts around so the pillow is where he wants it, and finally settles. Then he squeezes the back of Jeff's neck. He keeps that hand there while he grabs the remote with the other. He flips channels for a bit, and stops on Food Network. It's just interesting enough to keep his attention and neutral enough not to interfere with Jeff's headspace.
He can feel Jeff relaxing under his hand, keeps an eye on his breathing.
They're halfway through the second episode of whatever it is Food Network shows on Sunday afternoons when Jeff sighs and leans into Mike's knee.
"Better?" Mike asks.
"Yeah. Thanks."
Mike squeezes the back of his neck. "You're welcome."
*
Mike lets it be for a couple of calmer days, before he says, "So. The other day," after they've finished eating but before Jeff can get up from the table. "When you were kneeling for me," he clarifies, just in case Jeff can't figure out what it is they need to talk about.
Jeff makes a face at him. "Do we have to talk about it?"
Mike makes a face back at him. "Yes."
"It was good," Jeff says. "It helped. Can we stop talking about it?"
Mike puts his hand on Jeff's wrist. "Not yet." He rubs his thumb over the inside of Jeff's wrist, which is a dirty trick, but he's not above cheating. "What did you like?"
"Uh." Jeff stares at Mike's hand for a second before he answers. "Kneeling. Being comfortable. Your hand on my neck."
"Good." Mike squeezes Jeff's wrist, reward for being honest. "I liked that too. I liked watching you calm down. Anything you would change?"
There's a twitch of unhappiness on Jeff's lips.
"What?"
"Sandra Lee," Jeff says. "I can't stand her. It was harder to get there while you were watching her."
Mike stares at him for a long second before he chuckles. "Okay," he says, "no Sandra Lee." He lets go of Jeff's wrist.
"What about you?" Jeff asks it kind of grudgingly, and he rubs his wrist while he does. "Anything you would change?"
Mike shrugs. "I'd rather do without the three days of crankiness beforehand, but other than that it was good." He stands up and takes both of their plates. "Now we can stop talking about it."
*
Jeff wanders into the kitchen one afternoon when Mike's finishing off a bottle of Gatorade and sort of idly thinking about a snack and says, "Would you, uh, tie me up?"
Mike blinks, and looks at him. They don't have anywhere to be until tomorrow, and he already took Arnold out. They have the uninterrupted time for it, and it's not like Mike has a problem tying people up, or playing with Jeff.
He drinks the rest of his Gatorade. "What do you want out of it?"
"I want," Jeff looks down, and he's twisting one hand around the opposite wrist, "to not have to do anything. To give it all up to someone else."
And Mike likes to be in charge. He tosses the empty Gatorade bottle into the recycling. "Cuffs or rope?"
Jeff's eyes widen, and he says, sounding a little like Mike just offered him the Stanley Cup, Olympic gold, and an unending contract all in one, "Rope."
"Do you need a word, or do you want me to stop if you say stop?"
"Stop if I say stop."
Mike nods. "Okay. Go upstairs, my room. Take off your shirt and shorts, underwear's up to you, and lie down on your back on the bed."
Jeff turns around and goes.
Mike waits until he can hear Jeff's footsteps on the stairs before he stretches his arms out and gets a couple of bottles of water out of the fridge. He checks on Arnold to make sure he isn't going to need anything, and only then does he go upstairs.
Jeff's on the bed in just his underwear, his clothes folded neatly over the back of the chair in the corner. His breathing's a little uneven, but not anything to worry about.
Mike ignores him, closes the door to keep Arnold out, puts the water bottles down on one of the nightstands, and goes into the closet. There's rope in the box in the corner of the top shelf, and a pair of sturdy scissors. Mike puts the scissors on the nightstand and lets the lengths of rope pool on the bed. His bed frame isn't the best for this - if he's ever going to play with people regularly, he's going to have to get something better - but he walks around it attaching lengths of rope to it with sturdy knots that don't give when he pulls on them. He takes his time, and listens to Jeff while he does it.
Jeff's breathing settles down somewhere in there, and it's pretty even when Mike picks up one of his hands and loops some rope around his wrist. He ties a knot that's secure but easier to pull apart than the ones on the bed, and ties the rope to one of the lengths attached to the bed.
He does the other wrist before he has Jeff pull on them. There isn't much play; he can't go more than an inch in any one direction, and the knots hold.
"I don't want to struggle," Jeff says.
"Uh-huh," Mike says. "And how much are you going to like it if you know it's not going to hold you?" He doesn't wait for an answer before he ties Jeff's ankles and makes him tug on those too. Mike doesn't like the angle, and he reties them, makes Jeff tug on them again.
It leaves him with a lot of rope, and he takes his time with it. He runs a length under Jeff and ties it around his waist, another around his chest, ties both of those to the ropes around his wrists. He ties loops around Jeff's biceps and halfway between his wrists and elbows, and ties them off to the rope around his chest and waist. Loops around his calves get tied to his ankles, and the ones around his thighs to the one around his waist.
Jeff's breathing deep and even, and he has his eyes closed and all his muscles are relaxed. Mike's just as relaxed, in the alert way he gets when he has someone firmly under his control.
Mike puts the rest of the rope on the nightstand and taps Jeff's arm. "Pull on all of that."
Jeff does, and none of it gives.
"Anything too tight?"
"No." Jeff's voice is soft and hazy.
"Anything too loose?"
It takes a moment before Jeff says, "Right thigh."
Mike reties it tighter. "Better?"
Jeff shifts a little, and his mouth curves into a smile. "Yeah."
Mike squeezes his thigh and moves up to sit on the bed by Jeff's shoulder. He puts his hand on Jeff, not his neck because they didn't talk about that and he's not sure how Jeff would react to it, but just below his throat, over his collarbones.
Jeff makes a noise, but it's not a bad noise, so Mike keeps his hand there. It reminds Jeff he's there, and he can feel Jeff's breath.
Mike sits there for a while, watching Jeff stay calm under his hand and his ropework. His control. He really needs to play more for how good it makes him feel.
He can feel the change in Jeff's body when he starts to come back from it, and he rubs his hand over Jeff's collarbones, over to his shoulder.
"You ready for me to untie you?"
Jeff's hands flex, and he stretches against the rope before he says, "Yeah," still hazy.
Mike squeezes his shoulder and gets off the bed. The rope comes off easier than it went on. He pulls on the knots, coils the rope into piles on the floor. He goes backwards: thighs, calves, lower arms, upper arms, chest, waist, ankles, and wrists last. He leaves the rope tied to the bed frame; he can get that later.
"Sit up," he says. "I want you to drink this." He uncaps one of the water bottles and puts his hand on Jeff's back to make sure he can sit up without getting dizzy.
Jeff leans on him while he drinks, and he's shivering enough that Mike asks, "Cold?" when he's done and Mike guides him to lie down again.
"A little."
Mike pulls the blankets up over Jeff, who curls himself into a ball under them. Mike finishes Jeff's bottle of water and runs his hand over Jeff's hair. "Cuddling or no cuddling?" He wants to stay close, but not if it's not going to work for Jeff.
Jeff leans into Mike's hand. "Yes, please."
Mike squeezes the back of his neck and carefully climbs over him so he can slide under the blankets and align himself with Jeff without making Jeff move. He puts one arm over Jeff to hold him there. "Good?"
"Yeah." Jeff relaxes a little out of his tight curl. "Thank you." He puts his hand over Mike's on his stomach. "This was really good."
Mike holds him a little closer. "You're welcome. You were really good."
*
"There isn't much in here," Mike says, looking over the contents of the refrigerator while he's getting a bottle of water. "We should probably make a shopping list. What are you cooking this week?"
"You make a list," Jeff says. "It's your fucking house."
"Are you trying to-" Mike stops before he finishes the question, and reconsiders the past two days of petulance and petty arguments from another perspective. He manages to ask, "Do you want me to punish you?" calmly.
The way Jeff looks away from him means he's got it right. Mike doesn't much like being manipulated into it, but it doesn't actually sound like a bad idea. He's annoyed enough to make it real without being so angry he'll push harder than Jeff can take.
"What do you think an appropriate punishment would be?"
Jeff looks at him, and then away again. "A spanking?"
Mike breathes in and out a couple of times. "You're going to need a word."
"Red."
Mike nods. "Red and I stop. Go into the living room. Pants and shirt off, underwear up to you."
Mike spends a minute breathing while Jeff moves around. As good as it's going to feel to smack Jeff's ass for a while, he really doesn't like being manipulated into it.
He calls for Arnold and locks him in the garage with a squeaky toy and one of his doggie beds to keep him out of the way.
Jeff is waiting in the living room. He's all the way naked this time, standing by one arm of the couch and looking a little more unsure about it.
Mike sits down in the center of the couch, makes himself more or less comfortable, and says, "Over my knees."
Mike watches Jeff carefully, making him do all the work, but also making sure it's not uncomfortable in ways it's not supposed to be. Mad or not, he's still responsible for Jeff right now.
He doesn't wait for Jeff to settle all the way before he smacks him, which gets an indrawn breath of sound from Jeff.
"You don't have to count," Mike says, "and you don't have to be quiet."
He hits Jeff, and again, and again, and again. He settles into a rhythm, evenly timed, even strength, until Jeff's relaxed under his hands and Mike wants more out of it than he's getting, and then he hits harder. He lets Jeff get used to that, ride it out for a while, and then he hits harder again.
This time Jeff swears. He keeps swearing as Mike hits him, and the next time Mike hits harder, his voice breaks and he starts crying in muffled gasps. He's still relaxed, body limp and pliant over Mike's lap, so Mike keeps going. He didn't ask exactly what Jeff wanted out of this, but he wanted to be punished, and he hasn't safeworded out, hasn't even said as much as "stop."
When Mike's hand really starts to hurt and Jeff's crying is dying down into soft, wordless gasps, Mike says, "Ten more."
After ten, he stops. His hand is on fire, and Jeff's ass has to be worse. He feels good, though, calm, all his anger burned away. He rubs Jeff's back with his other hand and listens to Jeff's breathing slow. It takes a while before Mike feels okay saying, "Let me up."
He helps Jeff up enough that he can slide out from under him, and then he guides Jeff right back down. "Stay there. I'll be right back." He squeezes the back of Jeff's neck as a promise.
He takes the stairs as quickly as he can without making the kind of noise that might unsettle Jeff. If Jeff had given him more notice, he would have something downstairs, but at least he knows exactly where the lotion he wants is.
Jeff is just where Mike left him when he comes back with the bottle. His ass is bright red, and he has his head turned toward the back of the couch.
Mike says, "I'm going to put some lotion on that," so Jeff knows he's there. He rubs the lotion in carefully, and strokes Jeff's back when he's done. "I'm going to the kitchen for a minute. When you're ready, get up and put on your underwear." Mike waits for Jeff's murmur of acknowledgment before he goes to the kitchen for a couple of bottles of water and an ice pack.
Jeff's standing, cheeks still damp and eyes down, when Mike gets back.
Mike uncaps a bottle of water. "Here." He gives it to Jeff and watches to make sure Jeff drinks most of it. Then he takes it and puts it on the coffee table with the other one and sits at one end of the couch. "Lie down." He pats his thighs. "Head here. Ass up."
Jeff does, and relaxes with a sigh.
"This is going to be cold," Mike warns him, and he puts the ice pack on Jeff's ass. He set the DVR to record some Food Network stuff that isn't Sandra Lee, so he pulls that up and rests his burning hand on the ice pack while they watch. Jeff's occasional shivers get more frequent about the time Mike would take the ice pack off anyway, so he tosses it onto the coffee table and pulls the blanket down from the back of the couch. He gets Jeff covered with it and asks, "Okay?"
Jeff rubs his cheek against Mike's thigh. "Yeah." His voice is tired but not rough enough for Mike to worry about it.
Mike strokes Jeff's hair for a moment, and leaves his hand on the back of Jeff's neck.
*
They go out of town two days later, and Mike doesn't get much time alone with Jeff on the road, definitely not enough time to talk about it. They need to, but Mike lets it go the night they get home, just drives them back to the house so they can stumble up the stairs to bed. They both sleep in the next morning, Mike later than Jeff, and Jeff gathers up their laundry and throws a load in the wash while Mike gets through a cup of coffee.
They don't talk about it until after lunch, when they're picking at the last of a couple of boxes of Chinese food.
"We're talking about last week," Mike says.
Jeff puts his fork down and rests his hands on the edge of the table.
"Was it what you wanted?" Mike asks.
"Yes." Jeff looks up at Mike, then away and flushes. "I wanted it to hurt."
"Anything you wanted different?"
Jeff still doesn't look at him, but he twists one hand around his other wrist. "It's better if my hands are tied."
Mike takes that in and watches Jeff not look at him. He could handle tying Jeff's hands. Would love to tie Jeff's hands, make him look less nervous about this. "I liked making you feel that," he says. "I did not like you provoking your way into it."
Jeff doesn't answer, and Mike lets them sit in silence until Jeff offers up, "Sorry."
Good enough. Mike nods. "Now let's talk about the whole thing. Once or twice is helping you out. Three times is the start of a pattern."
The flush on Jeff's face spreads all the way up to his hair and down to his neck. "I guess."
Mike shakes his head. Figures this would be the place where Jeff's so caught up in his head that he can't see they're on the same page. "I'm not saying no."
That gets Jeff to look at him. "You're not?"
"No. You're a good sub. I like playing with you. I'm saying let's talk about it instead of you winding us both up for days to get what you want."
Jeff makes a face. "That makes me sound like a terrible sub."
Mike concedes the point with a nod and half a smile. "You're good when we're playing. So let's figure this out, or let's find you a dom."
"I'd rather it be you."
Mike would rather have that too. "Okay," he says. "Just to put this out there, I don't want to fuck you."
The face Jeff makes at that makes him laugh.
"I don't want to fuck you either."
"Good," Mike says. "We're on the same page. So, what? You want to just ask me when you want something? Want to make regular play dates?"
"Um."
Mike tries his best to stay patient when he says, "You're going to have to learn to ask for things."
Jeff doesn't look at him, but he does talk. "You could tell me what to do. Not all the time. Not out there," he makes a gesture toward the walls, "but in here. When it's just us."
Mike sits back in his chair, because that's more than he expected. He takes a minute to think about it. It's not something he's ever done, obviously, but he probably could. He would probably like it, Jeff doing what he says.
"Full-time," he clarifies, "like, you'd have to do what I say whenever it's just us here?"
"Yes."
Mike exhales and sits forward. "Okay," he says. "What do you like?"
"I have a list," Jeff says, and he glances up to meet Mike's eyes. "Something I read said you should make one so you know what you like and what you don't."
"I'll want to see it," Mike says, "and I'll give you mine too. But we'll get to that. Tell me what you like."
Jeff hesitates for a moment before he answers. "You being in control. Bondage. Kneeling for you. I liked it when your hand was on my neck."
"You liked when I punished you," Mike says. "Pain?"
"Sometimes." Jeff's back to looking away. "Not all the time, but sometimes I want it to hurt. What do you like?"
Mike says, "Being in control," without hesitation, and grins at Jeff's snort. "I liked tying you up. I can do pain, but it's more about being in control of what you feel."
Jeff's hand goes to the back of his neck. "Does that mean we can do this?"
"We can try it, see if it works. A couple of days?"
"A week?" Jeff ducks his head a little and looks up at Mike. It's a manipulative trick, but a week sounds fine to Mike.
"A week," he agrees, "and then we'll see if we want to keep going or change things. Tell me if you want to stop or you don't want something. I'll let you know if we're doing something you'll need more of a word for." Mike waits for Jeff's agreement before he asks, "Anything else you want to negotiate?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." Jeff looks up at him, and then down again. "Would you just tell me what to do already?"
"I'll tell you what to do when I want to." Mike reaches across the table and squeezes his wrist, settling into what it feels like to be in control of Jeff again. "And you'll be polite when you ask for what you want."
Jeff nods, and Mike lets go of him and sits back. He just looks at Jeff for a long minute. "Clean up." He gestures at the table. "I'm going to take a nap. You can do whatever you want after this is cleaned up. I'm not going to micromanage you. When I'm not telling you what to do, things are the same."
Jeff squares his shoulders and closes boxes, gathers up their plates. He says, "Thank you," just before he takes things into the kitchen.
Mike watches him go. Jeff's relaxed, and there's a little bit of a smile on his face when he turns at an angle where Mike can see him.
Mike keeps watching for a bit. Jeff makes a questioning face at him when he comes back for the rest of the boxes. Mike shrugs at him, trusting Jeff to know that means he doesn't want anything more than to watch Jeff do what Mike told him to.
*
A week of their lives only translates into a few days where they're at home alone for any length of time. Mike tells Jeff to make lunch or dinner a couple of times, he has Jeff kneel for him a while they watch TV or Mike answers emails and texts, and he puts Jeff up against a wall one afternoon and ties his wrists to his ankles with rope so taut he can barely move. It's even better than Mike thought it would be. Jeff's a great sub when he's not acting out to get what he wants and domming fills Mike with a kind of satisfaction he didn't know he was missing until he had it again.
They have a day off after an away game in the middle of their week. Mike catches up to Jeff after the game and asks, "You have plans for tomorrow?"
"No." Jeff glances around, which he doesn't need to do; Mike already made sure no one's paying attention to them. "Are you making plans?"
"Yes." Mike catches Jeff's wrist and squeezes for a second. "Keep the day free."
Jeff leans against his shoulder for a brief second, short enough that it'll look like he's just bumping against him.
*
Mike sleeps late, and Jeff already has coffee made and breakfast ready to be made when he gets downstairs. Mike takes his cup of coffee from Jeff and leans against the counter to watch Jeff make breakfast. They sit at the table to eat, and Mike sends Jeff to wash the dishes while he goes upstairs to set up.
"I left some things for you on your bed," Mike says when he comes downstairs and Jeff's done. "Put them on."
Jeff hesitates for a moment. "What about Arnold?"
"The sitter's keeping him until tomorrow." Mike points at the stairs. "Go."
He settles onto the couch and flips channels. There's more Food Network on the DVR, but he's not watching cooking shows all day. He settles on Oddities and is just getting into it when Jeff comes downstairs and waits at the edge of the room. Mike makes him wait until it goes to commercial before he acknowledges Jeff.
"Long sleeves and sweats?" Jeff asks. He has on the clothes Mike left out for him, and there are cuffs just visible at his wrists and ankles.
"I'm going to put you under and keep you there all day." Mike watches Jeff shiver at his words. "I wanted you to be comfortable." He drops one of the pillows onto the floor. "Here. Knees." He waits until Jeff makes himself comfortable before he touches him, hand on the back of his neck. Jeff makes a noise, and Mike squeezes. "I won't keep you there long enough for your knees to hurt."
Jeff mmms. "I know."
Mike squeezes the back of his neck again, acknowledgement of Jeff's trust and reminder that Mike's in control. He keeps half his attention on Jeff, enough to make sure he's still okay. After a while, he squeezes the back of Jeff's neck and says, "Come up here. On your side, head in my lap. Careful." He keeps a hand on Jeff, ready to catch him if he has trouble, but Jeff pulls himself up easily enough. Mike takes clips out of his pockets and leans over to clip Jeff's ankle cuffs together, then his wrists.
The look Jeff turns on him is positively adoring.
Mike strokes his hair in reward and his own gesture to let Jeff know the feeling is returned. "Tell me if it gets uncomfortable."
They spend the rest of the morning there. Mike lets Jeff up for bathroom breaks, and sends him to the kitchen for water. They go from Oddities to How It's Made, and then Mike picks Good Eats, which he's seen Jeff watch, from the DVR. When it's over, he warns Jeff, "I'm going to order lunch," before he takes his phone out and calls in an order. The warning also means Jeff doesn't jump when the doorbell rings.
"Stay here." Mike gets Jeff to lift up enough that he can get up, and he pays for the food and sets it out on the table before he goes to retrieve Jeff. He unclips Jeff and drops the clips into his pocket. Then he picks up one of the pillows and tucks it under his arm before he helps Jeff up.
He puts the pillow down next to his chair. "Sit," he tells Jeff. "However you'll be comfortable." He makes up two plates while Jeff gets settled and gives one of them to Jeff. Mike strokes Jeff's hair every once in a while and they eat in silence until their plates are clear and Mike asks if Jeff wants anything else. He dishes up the rice and beef and broccoli Jeff asks for and keeps his hand on Jeff until he's done. Jeff is as deep under as he can be and still have the focus to eat, and Mike's breath is even and steady, everything in his world calm and under his control.
Mike breaks Jeff's fortune cookie into pieces for him, reads the fortune to him - "If you continually give, you will continually have." - and hand feeds him the cookie pieces.
After lunch, he sends Jeff to clean up the dishes and leftovers. He takes the cushion back to the couch and goes to lean on a counter and watch Jeff finish putting things away. When he's done, Mike clips his wrists together.
"Ready for a nap?"
Jeff nods. "Yes." His voice is soft, and a little rough.
Mike leads him upstairs and into his room and pushes him down into his bed. "Are you going to be able to sleep with your wrists tied?"
Jeff pulls his hands in close to his chest, as if Mike would unclip them if Jeff didn't want him to. "Yes."
"Wake me up if you need something. That's an order." Mike waits for Jeff's acknowledgment before he stretches out next to him and puts an arm over him.
Mike can tell, when he wakes up, that Jeff's already awake. He turns Jeff over onto his back. "Still good?"
Jeff smiles up at him, still so deep he looks like he's drugged. "I'm great."
Mike grins down at him and squeezes his shoulder. "You're doing great." He unclips Jeff's wrists and sends him to the bathroom, then puts him back on his bed. "Stay there."
Mike grins at himself in the mirror when he goes to the bathroom; he looks almost as high as Jeff.
In the bedroom, Mike pulls out the straps he'd hidden under the edges of the mattress. He clips Jeff's cuffs, wrist and ankle, to the straps and tightens them until Jeff can't move. Mike knows by now that Jeff always goes for rope when given the choice, but he's so far under that it won't take much to keep him there. Mike likes the rope too, but right now he wants to just enjoy having Jeff under more than he wants to spend the time on rope.
He sits next to Jeff when he's satisfied with how he's tied down, and Jeff turns his head to smile at him.
"Thank you," Jeff says. "This is so good. You're so good to me."
Mike puts his hands on either side of Jeff's face, and strokes his hair. He's never loved any sub he's played with the way he loves Jeff.
He keeps Jeff tied for a while, stroking his hair and touching his shoulders. Mike doesn't get bored, exactly, but he gets antsy after a while, sitting there for too long, and he unclips Jeff and makes him move carefully in case any of his limbs have fallen asleep.
Mike lets Jeff curl up next to him and nuzzle into his hip for a bit before he gets Jeff up, hand on his elbow because Jeff's pretty deep under now and Mike doesn't know what that's going to do to his balance. They take the stairs carefully.
It's a tough fit, but Mike gets them both lying down on the couch, and then he turns on the TV to something unremarkable and turns the sound down. He wraps his arms around Jeff instead of clipping his cuffs together; Jeff will like the contact, and Mike wants him to have his hands free in case this turns out to be a bad enough fit that one of them falls off the couch.
"All right, up," Mike says later. "I'm going to order dinner." He squeezes Jeff's shoulder. "You can sit." He goes into the kitchen to call it in, so it's still quiet around Jeff. He comes back to find that Jeff is sitting on one of the pillows on the floor. Jeff is definitely the best sub he's ever played with, completely trusting, putting himself entirely under Mike's control, even when Mike doesn't give him explicit orders. Mike sits down next to him and rubs his fingers over Jeff's scalp until dinner gets there.
Mike takes the food to the table, then comes back for Jeff. He has Jeff kneel next to him, and he makes up one plate. He feeds Jeff from his plate, holds a cup to Jeff's lips for sips of water. It takes longer that way, but Jeff keeps swaying into him, and that's worth it.
After they eat, Mike cups Jeff's chin. "I need you to come back a little. Come on. I want you to clean up." He has to wait for it, but when Jeff's a little more with it, he sends him to the kitchen.
They hang out in the living room for a while - Mike sits on the couch and tells Jeff to lie down with his head on Mike's thigh, which Jeff does with his face tucked into Mike's stomach - and Mike checks his email and pets Jeff's hair.
Mike's tired and Jeff's half asleep when Mike decides it's time for bed even though it's still early. He walks Jeff upstairs and stops in the hallway.
"We're not done, but I'm going to take the cuffs off now." He squeezes Jeff's wrists. "I want you to go get ready for bed, whatever you usually do, and then come to my room." He takes the cuffs off Jeff's wrists first, then crouches down to get the ones around his ankles.
Mike puts the cuffs away, brushes his teeth and changes into something he can sleep in, and then spends a minute cleaning up. He tucks the straps under the bed, throws clothes in the hamper, sets out two short lengths of soft rope neatly on the nightstand.
When Jeff comes to his room, Mike looks out to make sure the rest of the lights in the house are off, then closes his door. "These shouldn't get in your way while you sleep," he says, and he ties a length of rope around each of Jeff's wrists. It's softer than the cuffs, but it's still a reminder for Jeff that Mike's in control, that Mike will tie him up because he loves it, and Mike loves giving that to him. "Wake me up if you need to, or you can take it off in the morning."
He tucks Jeff into bed, turns off the light, and climbs in with him. He barely has to prompt Jeff at all before Jeff is curling into him.
"Thank you," Jeff says. His voice is the barest rasp of a whisper.
"Thank you," Mike says. "You've been so, so good today."
"You make it easy."
*
It takes Mike a minute to wake up enough to register that Jeff's also awake. Of course he is; Jeff always gets up before he does.
Mike grunts out a greeting, then makes himself wake up enough to be responsible. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Jeff says.
Mike turns Jeff onto his back and props himself up on an elbow to look down at him.
Jeff smiles up at him. He's not gone like he was yesterday, but he's relaxed. Loose. "I'm good," he says. "Really good. I just didn't want." He shrugs a little.
Mike sits up and knuckles the sleep out of his eyes. "You could've woken me up." He picks up one of Jeff's hands and unties the rope around his wrist. He lets the rope drop onto the bed and does the other wrist.
Jeff sits up, stretches, and hugs Mike. "Thank you."
Mike hugs him back and pats his shoulder. "You're welcome." He yawns wide enough to crack his jaw. "Now get your morning person ass out of my bed."
Jeff laughs as he goes, and Mike grins and lets himself fall back into bed for a while.
*
They go out with some of the guys, and Mike is at the bar ordering a drink and getting the lay of the land when his phone buzzes.
There's a text from Jeff asking, Are you going to hook up?
It's still early in the evening to be making that decision for sure, so Mike sends back, Maybe. He catches Jeff's eye across the room, so he knows that's not what Jeff was looking for even before he gets Jeff's next text.
Is it OK if I hook up?
Mike blinks at his phone - permission wasn't what he was expecting Jeff to look for - and quickly types out, Sex isn't part of our deal. If you want to hook up, hook up. He hits send and then erases the whole exchange.
They end up, later, at a table with a couple of girls - Kristy and Ali - who are friends, and who are pretty into them. Their usual thing of Mike talking and Jeff providing the occasional laconic contribution works well enough that the four of them pile into a cab when they leave the bar. A quick, silent, negotiation puts Mike in the front with the driver and Jeff in the back with the girls.
Mike offers them drinks at the house. The girls exchange a look - they must pick up together as much as Mike and Jeff do - and Ali takes Mike's hand.
"Why don't you take me upstairs?"
Mike's too mature to do something stupid like exchange a thumbs-up with Jeff behind the girls' backs, but they get the same idea across with just a look.
Ali takes her shirt off after Mike closes the door to his room. He does a quick glance around to make sure he didn't leave anything she shouldn't see lying around, and then he turns his attention to Ali's really quite nice breasts.
She won't blow him, but she jerks him off a little while he makes sure she's really wet and into this, and then they fuck in his bed.
Mike's not sure if the noises he can hear Kristy making all the way from Jeff's room are making the afterglow better or worse, and says as much to Ali.
"She's kind of a screamer," Ali says, and then she cocks her head and listens for a moment. "She's riding his face."
"What?" Mike splutters with a laugh.
Ali shrugs as best as she can while lying in his bed with his arm around her. "We used to live together. I've heard her enough. She only sounds like that when she's riding someone's face."
Well, Mike thinks but doesn't say, at least Jeff's probably getting off on it.
*
They're out of town on the last day of their week. Mike has errands to run and laundry to do in what's left of the morning after he gets up the next day, they have skate in the afternoon, and then they go out to dinner with some of the guys. Mike can honestly say he's too tired to go out after that, and Jeff glances at him before following his lead.
"You could've gone with them," Mike says in the car.
"Not really feeling it," Jeff says. "Are we going to talk?"
Mike's too tired for clubbing or bar hopping, but not too tired for negotiating. "If you want," he says. "It can wait until tomorrow."
"I'd rather today," Jeff says.
Mike nods, and they don't talk on the rest of the way home.
Mike takes Arnold out after they get home, and comes back into the house to find Jeff sitting at the table with a bottle of water in front of him and another at Mike's place across the table. Mike uncaps his and drinks half of it in one go.
Jeff seems to be waiting for Mike to take the lead, so he starts with. "That was a week and you've had some time to think about it. Did you like it?"
"Yes," Jeff says without hesitation.
Mike was expecting that, so he prods a little deeper. "Was it what you wanted?" It was what Jeff said he wanted, but things don't always work the way people think they will.
"Yes," Jeff says.
Mike's used to Jeff's reticence and can usually get what he wants out of him from context, but that's not enough here. "You're going to have to give me more than that," he says without heat. Jeff does have to tell him more, but he's not surprised or particularly upset that he has to push to get it.
Jeff fidgets with his water bottle for a moment. Mike lets him because he knows the difference between Jeff not saying much and Jeff figuring out what he wants to say.
"It was like," Jeff finally says, "you put me under for a whole day, which was-" Jeff's eyes meet his, and they're shining with the same kind of ecstasy from when he was under all day.
Mike nods to let Jeff know that he gets it and that Jeff doesn't have to try to find the words to describe that.
"The whole time was a little like that," Jeff says. "Not as intense, but I could feel it the whole time, that you could just put me under any time you wanted."
Mike shudders a little, because he certainly felt gratifyingly in control, but he didn't know he was getting Jeff that deep. He takes a breath to stay calm, and then remembers this is Jeff and he doesn't need to keep anything from him.
"Fuck, Cartsy."
Jeff flushes, and Mike grabs his wrist before he can get even more uncomfortable.
"I want to put you on your knees right now."
Jeff meets his eyes. "You could."
Mike exhales hard and lets go of him. "Not until we talk about it. You'd do it again?"
"Mike," Jeff says with a look that says Mike is being an idiot, "I would do it all the time."
If Mike were still holding onto him, he'd be tightening his grip right now.
"Right," Mike says, trying to stay focused enough to do this right. "Okay. We should do another set period of time. Make sure it works longer term. A month?"
"Yes."
"Anything you want to change? Limits, or anything you want me to do?"
"No other limits." Jeff hesitates.
"Come on," Mike says. "You have to ask for the things you want."
"Rope," Jeff says, flushing. "I want you to tie me up more."
Mike has some rope he hasn't even used on Jeff yet. He shakes off the thought of how good that's going to be so he can figure out if there's anything else they need to cover.
"Hooking up," he says, and then laughs at Jeff's expression. "Not us, asshole. With other people. You don't need my permission." He looks at Jeff for a long moment, thinking about Jeff saying, "all the time," and asking if he could hook up, then amends it to, "Or you always have my permission, if that's better."
Jeff nods. "Okay."
"Okay," Mike says. "Anything else?"
"No. You?"
"No." Mike drinks from from his water to give them both a minute to let it sink in. "Want to come kneel in the living room for a while before bed?"
Jeff says, "Yes," almost before Mike is finished speaking, and Mike can feel the weight of it settling into him.
*
Mike takes a hit in a home game against the Sharks. It's not bad - the trainers and Stevens lean over him to talk about it once he gets off the ice, but he goes back out for his next shift and he plays the rest of the game - but it's enough that his shoulder hurts like hell.
He spends some time with the doc and the trainers after the game, having his shoulder poked and prodded and being told what to do about it. They drove to the rink together, so Jeff is hanging around waiting for him when he's done, and Mike's too irritated and in pain to be nice about having made him wait.
Jeff doesn't say anything to him about it, just holds out his hand for the keys.
Mike scowls but hands them over. He could drive with his shoulder if he had to, but he's pissed off, not stupid.
They don't talk in the car. Mike keeps switching radio stations, then plugs in his iPod and scrolls through playlists without letting any of them play for very long.
Arnold comes rushing to meet them when Mike opens the door to the house. Mike leans down to pet him and winces when it pulls on his shoulder.
"Okay, buddy, I'll take you out."
"No, you won't." Jeff puts his hand on Mike's back when he stands and pushes him into the house. "You're going to put ice on your shoulder and I'm going to take him out." He keeps up the steady pressure on Mike's back all the way to the couch.
It's funny, because they're home alone, and Mike is mad but not at Jeff, so he can almost laugh when he asks, "You're bossing me around now?"
"Yes. I'll kneel for you after I take Arnold out if you want, but right now you're going to put some ice on that, and if you try to argue with me I will stop this whole thing."
Mike knows enough to know that when Jeff gets stubborn like this, there's no getting around him.
Jeff gets him an ice pack from the freezer and makes sure he's comfortable on the couch before he leaves him with the remote, his phone, and a bottle of Gatorade.
It's late, but Mike's not going to be able to sleep yet, so he turns on the TV and replies to texts while he waits for the ice to make his shoulder feel better.
Jeff and Arnold aren't gone long, and Arnold noses at Mike's hands and knees before he turns himself around a couple of times and flops down on the floor in front of the couch.
"That's my spot," Jeff says mildly. He makes his feet fit between bits of Arnold and the couch and leans over Mike. "How's the shoulder?"
"Fucking hurts."
Jeff hmms. "Do you want me on my knees? If not, I could sit with you."
Mike closes his eyes for a moment. He doesn't have it in him to figure Jeff out right now. "You have to ask for what you want." He snaps it, which he probably shouldn't have, but Jeff just looks at him steadily for a second before he answers.
"I want you to feel better. Do you want me to kneel, or do you want to lean on me?"
It takes all the fight out of Mike. "Come sit with me." He doesn't want the responsibility of Jeff on his knees right now, and Jeff will like the contact.
Jeff manhandles him a little getting them comfortable with Jeff supporting his shoulder. Then he pushes Mike's hand off the ice pack and takes over making sure it doesn't move so all Mike has to do is sit there and let him.
"Thanks," Mike says after a while, when he's starting to feel a little better. "Sorry I was an asshole."
Jeff rests his cheek against Mike's good shoulder. "I know how you get. And you'll make it up to me."
There are advantages to having known each other for more than a decade, and that's one of them.
"I bought you some rope," Mike says, and he can feel Jeff's shiver. "When my shoulder's better, we'll play with it."
Part 2