Florentine

  Alex captures that hand in his own, presses a kiss to the palm. His heart is beating in his throat and he knows Mahiro was telling the absolute truth—Mahiro is right in the middle of this maelstrom with him.

  “HE WANTS you to come over. Tonight. On a Sunday.” Chris’s flat disbelief is, honestly, a bit disheartening.

  “Yes, he asked me to come,” Alex says, flipping through his chest of drawers. “I cannot fucking believe I only have one pair of clean underwear left and it’s this pair,” he snarls and throws his green boxers on the bed and starts digging in his laundry basket. He might have time to hand-wash a pair and get them dry before seven. It’s only three thirty now. “He said he felt, and I quote, that he needs this.” Alex finds the blue briefs he’s been hunting for and grins, triumphant. “So I’m going. He wants me, Chris. He wants me.”

  Chris sighs heavily, then smiles before he ducks out of the room with a shake of his head. Alex shrugs it off until Chris reappears in the doorway and throws a pair of briefs at him, hitting him square in the chest.

  “What the hell?” Alex says, and then looks at them. They’re red, slightly sheer, and look like they’re cut to show the bottoms of his asscheeks.

  “Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Chris says. “But I’m telling you, if he rips them off you owe me seventy-five dollars US, and I’ll take that in cash or a bottle of scotch.”

  Alex pauses. “He didn’t actually say what I was supposed to wear, now that I think about it.” Alex has a moment of panic. Should he text? Call? If he doesn’t do either, should he guess? He sits down hard at the edge of his bed.

  “Come here, you idiot,” Chris says, then pulls him in for a hug before bending down and playfully rubbing his face on Alex’s stomach.

  “Hey, what the fuck?” Alex yells, then pulls Chris down onto the bed, panic momentarily forgotten in a burst of laughter. “What was that for?”

  Chris laughs long and hard, his frame shaking with mirth. “I thought maybe whatever mojo you’ve got in your pants that’s managed to snare Mahiro would rub off on me,” he says. “Because seriously, Alex. I told you, you’re a natural-born submissive. But even I didn’t expect you to be the one to tame Mahiro that quickly.”

  Alex flops down next to him and passes a hand over his face. “I didn’t either. I don’t know. I know what you said about him never sticking around but… it’s good, right? What we’re doing right now?”

  “I don’t know, honestly. He’s never collared a sub. I don’t know if he’s ever had a boyfriend the whole, what, five years I’ve known him?”

  Alex thinks about that, then holds Chris’s ridiculous underwear between his fingers and looks them over critically. “Let’s find out, then, shall we?” he says and hops off the bed to go shower.

  “That’s the spirit,” Chris calls after him. “And try not to get your ass beat this time.”

  IT’S 7:04 p.m., and Alex is kneeling in the playroom on the red cushion, clad in Chris’s ridiculous underwear and trying not to gasp every time his fidgeting bumps the plug he decided to wear at the very last minute. He’s going all out tonight, even took the time to add a bit of eyeliner and shimmery powder on his shoulders, and when the door opens behind him, the tiny intake of breath makes him bite his lip to hold down a smirk.

  Gotcha, sir.

  Mahiro’s feet whisper across the hardwood and there it is, the familiar sweep of his fingers from Alex’s nape to the small of his back, but then he places a palm between Alex’s shoulder blades, soft and reverent.

  “You look beautiful, Alex,” Mahiro says, voice pitched low. “Thank you for coming to see me tonight.”

  Alex swallows against the lump forming in his throat. “Thank you for asking me, sir. I… I’m so happy to be here with you.”

  Mahiro walks around to stand in front, and his motions are, by now, so familiar and comforting Alex can feel the tension slide from his shoulders in an instant. Yes, this is where he belongs, kneeling at Mahiro’s feet, ready to accept whatever he has planned. Mahiro looks so strong, the curve of his biceps outlined in the low light, the cut of his hip bones visible over the waistband of his low-slung jeans. Alex wonders if he’ll ever get to feel the press of them into the backs of his thighs.

  “I would like to try the same things we tried last time,” Mahiro says and cups Alex’s chin. “I’ll give you a little extra help this time, but I still owe you a reward, you know.” Mahiro slides his hand over his stomach and hooks a thumb in his waistband, and Alex wonders if he’s thinking about the heat of Alex’s mouth on him. Alex glances up and realizes the tiny gold barbells he usually wears in his piercings have been replaced by gold loops, and Alex’s mouth waters.

  “If I do well today,” he says, struck with inspiration, “may I touch those too?”

  Mahiro’s eyes flare with heat. “You may,” he says. “I’d like that very much.”

  Alex smiles in smug satisfaction. It’s almost a guarantee, then. Mahiro crouches down until he’s level with Alex’s eyes, and Alex blinks confusion.

  “But I expect you to listen and to obey me,” Mahiro says seriously. “Part of that obedience is to use your safeword if you need to. Is that clear?”

  Alex nods. “Yes, sir. I promise.”

  “Good. Then go lie down on the bench.”

  Alex scrambles to get to the bench as Mahiro goes to the cabinet. Alex arranges himself carefully so that his ass is up and his dick is sort of off the end of the bench. Oh no, he forgot Chris’s underwear. Should he take it off?

  As he is debating whether he should quickly strip down, Mahiro comes back and runs a hand over the cheek of Alex’s ass, the bottom half peeking out from under the hem of the briefs. Alex freezes.

  “I like that you wore something special for me,” Mahiro says and tucks a fingertip in the hem to trace along Alex’s skin. “They’re incredibly sexy.”

  “Chris let me borrow them,” he says and then mentally smacks himself. As if his mouth is on autopilot he keeps talking. “He says if you tear them I owe him seventy-five dollars.” What the fuck is wrong with you, shut up shut up shut up!

  Mahiro chuckles, and Alex is delighted that at least someone is amused. “Of course he did. They’re very… Chris. But we should take them off now.”

  “Okay,” Alex breathes and lifts his hips as Mahiro hooks his fingers into the waistband and then, before Alex can react, he twists his hand into the fabric and yanks hard, the flimsy waistband breaking and the side seam tearing apart with an audible rip. Mahiro drags them the rest of the way off, then dangles the ruined scrap of fabric off his finger in front of Alex’s face.

  “Oh God,” Alex moans, both incredibly turned on and a bit annoyed at his suddenly lighter wallet.

  Mahiro bends to get close. “I’m sending them home with you with a thank-you note and seventy-five in cash,” he says and brushes a kiss over Alex’s ear. “Chris will get over it. He should have known better, sending me such a delightfully wrapped little present.”

  Alex nods and shivers. “He’ll be happy to know it.”

  Mahiro laughs again, then rises to walk back to the cabinet. Alex watches as he selects his flogger, but as he returns to the bench he slows, then stops.

  “You’re wearing your plug,” Mahiro says, voice wavering ever so slightly. He looks stunned, and then he reaches out to lightly circle the tip of his finger around the base. “I didn’t expect….”

  Alex shudders at the slight pressure. “Is that okay?”

  Mahiro breathes out a huff of laughter. “Of course. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

  Alex preens under the praise and settles himself more comfortably against the bench, his forehead on his folded hands. Anticipation is starting to fizzle its way through his nerves, waiting for the first kiss of suede on his skin. When he feels Mahiro’s hand on the curve of his hip instead, he looks over his shoulder in confusion.

  Mahiro meets his eyes, and then carefully, slowly, presses a soft kiss to the base of his spine,
his eyes fluttering closed.

  Alex’s heart stutters, and he meets Mahiro’s heated gaze again as he pulls away to stand over him, flogger in hand.

  “Are you ready?” he says.

  Alex nods, and the first bite of the flogger is bliss.

  He loses track quickly after that; once his teeth find his lip his body seems to sink into itself, losing the individual sensations of hands and feet and fingers and toes, his entire being suffused with a low smoldering fire. Mahiro is almost silent behind him, uttering the occasional “Yes, so lovely,” or “Good boy, you’re so good,” almost under his breath, until he pauses and runs a hand up Alex’s spine, a spike of heat causing him to cry out before he can stop himself.

  “No, don’t, let me hear it,” Mahiro says, and the flogger lands again, on the shoulder this time. “Let me hear every—” And another, on the other shoulder, and Alex gasps.

  “Single—” This time, the tails bite at the space below his thigh and he whimpers, dick hard and fingers clenched around the bench. “—sound.”

  The flogger strikes the upper curve of his ass with a heavier blow, one that has the strength of Mahiro’s bicep behind it, and the end of the blow drags the fall across the plug, and Alex feels a scream bubble up but it comes out as a sob instead.

  The flogger thuds against the floor where Mahiro drops it, and then he’s straddling the bench in front of Alex’s face. He slides his hands through Alex’s hair and pulls it away from his forehead, encouraging him to lean up on his elbows and look at him. “Color?” he says, his dark eyes intent, searching.

  “Green,” Alex hiccups. “Please, sir.”

  He must be satisfied with what he sees, because this time, instead of dragging Alex to the lounge, he stands up and strips his jeans off, only to straddle the bench again, seated with his cock in Alex’s face.

  “Take your reward, my beauty,” he rasps and tugs Alex’s hair until he inches forward to get his lips around the head of Mahiro’s cock.

  It’s bliss, the heavy weight of him against his tongue, arousal burning him up from the inside out as he opens his mouth wider and lets Mahiro thrust shallowly into the welcoming heat. He tries to flutter his tongue against the head as it enters, sucks down hard as Mahiro withdraws, and gathers his wits enough to edge forward on his elbows so he can get his fingers on Mahiro’s balls.

  “You’re so good,” Mahiro says, breath heavy, thrusting quickly now. “I’m coming, Alex, swallow it, come on,” Mahiro pants and gasps, and Alex feels the way Mahiro’s body starts to lose that fine edge of control, in the way the head of his cock goes just that little bit deeper, just enough that Alex can feel himself almost ready to gag. He breathes through his nose and moans at Mahiro’s hands in his hair, twisting hard until Mahiro growls his pleasure, come flooding Alex’s mouth and throat. He sucks in a quick breath, then swallows as quickly as he can but he still sputters a bit. Mahiro pulls back immediately, come smearing across Alex’s lips.

  “God, you’re amazing,” Mahiro says, chest heaving, and Alex leans down to pillow his head on Mahiro’s strong thigh. Mahiro pets his hair and soothes the pain from his grip. “We’re not finished yet,” he says. “Color?”

  Alex tries to consider the question. His own erection is hanging heavy and full, almost painfully so. Could he take more of this? What more is there?

  “Green,” he says.

  “Good,” Mahiro says, then swings his leg over and rises from the bench, only to kneel behind Alex and place a hand on his warm red skin. “I’m taking this out now,” he says, and slowly, carefully, removes the lavender glass plug. Alex gasps at the sensation, the ridges along the glass head tugging at his rim.

  “Oh, this one is very nice,” Mahiro says. “But I’ve got something better.”

  Then he leans forward and licks the flat of his tongue from Alex’s balls to the base of his spine.

  “Holy fuck,” Alex says, body erupting in goose bumps.

  Mahiro snickers, the sound dark and knowing, and before Alex can prepare himself, he spreads Alex’s ass with his hands and dives back in, tongue swirling and probing at his hole.

  Alex is sure he’s about to spontaneously combust. His skin is hot—he’s gone from a warm ball of sensation to a crackling pitch of awareness of every single touch—and when Mahiro presses his tongue in, in, in and then strokes his cock with a tight grip, he can’t stop the long, broken cry that echoes from the playroom walls.

  “Yes,” Mahiro hisses against his skin. “Fuck yes. Come for me, Alex, come on,” he says, and continues to stroke him as he licks into Alex’s hole. Alex is shivering now, the sensation almost more than he can bear, but then as Mahiro carefully hooks two fingers into his rim, the feeling jolts him forward into an orgasm that is almost painful in its intensity.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, face buried in his folded arms. “Fuck, please.” A sob tears out of his chest as Mahiro continues to stroke him through it. He almost wants to crawl away from the sensation, but Mahiro lets go of his cock and keeps him tethered with his strong hand on Alex’s hip until the burning star of his orgasm has faded and Alex is shuddering occasionally with aftershocks.

  It’s silent for the space of a heartbeat, Mahiro’s hand on Alex’s hip, his cheek pressed against the other, almost an embrace. Alex doesn’t get to enjoy it for long before Mahiro stirs.

  “Good, yes, come on, let’s get you up, darling,” Mahiro coos, and helps Alex stand on shaky legs. “Come into the bathroom, that’s good.” Mahiro steers him across the playroom and into the bathroom, pulls out the stool, and lets Alex sit carefully on it. He runs the bath, opens a cabinet, and pulls out two robes and towels. As he bends over to select a washcloth from the lower shelf, Alex notices a greenish bruise on his hip, almost healed, but it looks like it was pretty significant.

  “What did you do?” he asks, and Mahiro jumps.

  “What? Do what?” he says and pulls one of the robes on over his shoulders and belts it. He drops the stack of towels on the counter and leans over to turn off the water. “Come on, in with you now.”

  “To your hip,” Alex says and climbs in. “That’s a big bruise.”

  Mahiro laughs, and the sound is strangely hollow. “Oh, that. Nothing, really, just a stupid thing. Hit myself on the dining room table, having a Nerf gun fight with Adam. My own dumb fault. I shouldn’t act like I’m still a teenager, you know?”

  Alex sucks in a breath as he lowers himself into the water. It’s very hot and smells like orange and something darker, smokier. It’s heavenly.

  “No sense in denying yourself fun,” Alex says and tilts his head back and closes his eyes. He weighs risk and reward and finds the balance likely in his favor. “Speaking of,” he adds and cracks open his eyes to see Mahiro watching him carefully from his perch on the stool. “Why don’t you get in with me?”

  Mahiro looks slightly startled. Should he not have asked, then? One day he’ll understand all of the rules. Maybe.

  “This is about you, Alex. Not about me.”

  Ah, so that’s it. “Then it would make me feel better if you got in with me,” he teases, and deploys his best pleading expression, one that gets him almost anything he wants from almost anyone. “Please?”

  Mahiro cuts his eyes to the side, obviously thinking it over. Alex holds his breath.

  “Okay,” Mahiro says and stands to shed his robe. Alex can’t stop the smile that breaks across his face. “But you have to scoot up. I want to sit behind you.”

  Alex shrugs. Sure, whatever he wants. He slides forward in the huge tub and lets Mahiro slip in behind him, and leans back into the circle of Mahiro’s arms, his back warm against Mahiro’s chest.

  Perfect. Alex sighs and wiggles down a little more, and can feel Mahiro’s cock, soft but stirring, under his back. Even better.

  “Don’t think I don’t notice what you’re doing,” Mahiro says and flicks Alex’s ear. “You know where we are.”

  Alex sighs. “Yes, yes, I know.”

&nb
sp; “How do you feel now?” he asks. “Any better?”

  “Much better. Thank you for asking me to come tonight.”

  “Thank you for coming. What did you like best?”

  Alex snorts a laugh. “Besides eating me out?” Mahiro snickers against the crown of Alex’s head. “I really liked the flogging. The feeling was so… intense, I think is the word. I felt like I was floating after a while.”

  “Sounds like you managed to drop into subspace. All the endorphins from enduring the impact of the flogging build up and get you into that zone where you’re almost high with it.”

  Alex hums and considers. He’s never experienced anything quite like it, except rare occasions where he was skating and the music and movement of his body became almost hypnotic, and he’d blink and realize he’d not noticed time passing for hours. He wonders if that’s why this feels so familiar, so comforting.

  Mahiro takes a handful of liquid soap and begins to wash Alex’s chest, his motions languid and soothing, before switching to massage his shoulders. The slosh of the water echoes from the tiled walls, and Alex is lulled into a soft, peaceful state. He loves this, loves how Mahiro can take him apart and put him back together, how he can be so beautifully caring, even when his touch is hard and unforgiving. He can see why Chris speaks of him with such affection and how others would gravitate toward his calm, caring demeanor.

  “Mahiro, is it true you’ve never had a collared sub?” he asks, the words leaving his mouth before his alert brain can stop them. Mahiro’s hands still for a moment before they return to carefully washing his arm.

  “Yes, it’s true,” he says quietly. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’m sorry to be so nosy, I just wondered. You’re so amazing. How do you not have subs beating down your door?”

  Mahiro chuckles. “Oh, I have my share. I just haven’t found anyone who… fits with me. Someone I want more than just in the playroom. It’s hard to find that combination. Someone you want both inside and outside.”