by Sean Michael
Harrison was surprisingly dear, even with all that insistence that he was Dom.
"No, I'm your big, bad top." His jeans' button was undone, the zipper pulled down.
"I don't think you're bad. I think you're sweet."
Harrison chuckled. "I imagine you're the first person to tell the man who's chained him to the ceiling that he's sweet."
"You have been."
"I've been good to you." Harrison pulled his cock out of his pants and started jacking lazily. "I've given you what you need."
"Yes. You like to have sex a lot."
"So do you."
He did, although he didn't think he'd ever had so much sex with anyone, even himself. Harrison tugged his jeans down his legs, leaving them around his ankles. He frowned, tried to kick the jeans off, but it was awkward and his feet were caught.
"Leave them." Harrison's hands slid up under his T-shirt, headed straight for his rings.
"My feet are caught." He shifted around, stumbling.
"You don't need them."
"I'll fall down." This was scary.
"You can't fall down. And I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
"I... Fuck." He tugged a little, heartbeat speeding.
"Yes, I might." Harrison tweaked his right nipple ring again.
"I don't like this." This was unnerving.
"I've got you off balance." Harrison smiled.
"Yes." Now that they understood each other, Harrison would let him go.
"Good." His T-shirt was pulled up over his head, Harrison's lips latching on to his left nipple.
"I. Wait. That's not..." Oh, God. Good. Harrison sucked rhythmically, each tug going straight to his cock. The ache was almost unbearable. Almost.
One of Harrison's hands slid around his cock, squeezing him, and then jacking to the same rhythm as the suction around his tit.
"I--" His head fell back, and he moaned.
"There you go. Feels good, huh?"
He didn't answer. Harrison's thumbnail slid over his slit and he jerked, moaned. "Yes!"
"Sweet boy."
Him? Sweet boy?
"Gonna come for me." It wasn't a question, the way Harrison said it.
"I..." That touch came again, hard on his slit, burning. "Yes."
Harrison smiled, the look wicked, sexy, hand moving on him. Every time Harrison's thumb reached the tip of his cock, that nail rubbed. Over and over, the touch made him jump.
"Fuck. Fuck..." He loved that, loved slit play.
"Needy. So needy. I love it."
"You keep touching." Of course he needed. Everyone needed, but he got so little human contact.
"And I'm not going to stop. I'm going to touch and touch and touch."
His hips began to buck, roll, the words echoing in his head.
"Oh, look at you."
"You keep talking!" He was going to scream.
"I'm not just talking, though."
None of this made sense. None of it. It was all crazy. Harrison slid his hands up along Giles' arms. Up over his head, up to where the chains held him. Oh. Oh, Harrison was going to let him go. Harrison's fingers slipped right up to his fingertips, then back down again, massaging his arms.
He frowned when those hands moved down. He thought...
"No frowning, this is good." Harrison's mouth slid over his jaw and then pressed against his mouth. Harrison was big, muscled, solid against him, and still mostly dressed. There was something... hot about being naked while Harrison wasn't, the rub of cloth against his skin, the scrape of buttons.
"I..." He didn't know what to do. Not at all.
"G. All you have you have to is stand there. And feel."
"I'm a little wigged."
"Only a little?"
"Maybe a lot."
"Okay." Harrison kissed him again, hot and heavy.
Okay. How was this okay, exactly? He opened up, tongue sliding against Harrison's.
"I'm gonna work you over, G. I've got a pretty little flogger that's going to feel so good."
His eyes went wide; his cock jerked. "Good? You promise?"
"Yes. It's going to hurt so damn good. It'll be exactly what you need."
He closed his eyes. "I don't know what to do."
"Whatever you want."
Harrison gave him another kiss and went to one of the wardrobes, opening it. He looked up at the cuffs. They were hooked together with buckles. He could probably unfasten one, if he worked at it really hard. Harrison was back before he could even try, leather in his hand. Giles looked at the thing, unnerved, shaking his head. "Let me down."
"It's going to be good, Giles. You're going to learn to crave it instead of the cutting."
"I don't want to do this." The sounds in his head were loud suddenly, blaring.
"No, and I imagine you don't want to do the cutting either, but you do it."
He started panting, wigging out.
"Someone's thinking too hard." Harrison's mouth covered his, tongue pushing right in.
Giles went still, the sudden silence almost unbearable. Almost. The kisses didn't stop, Harrison deepening them instead, hands sliding on his back. One hand still held the leather, drawing it along his skin. He wasn't sure he even wanted to relax, but he did. He had to. The kisses went on and on, Harrison just... everywhere.
When the leather hit his skin, it wasn't even sharp, just a deep, good thud. It came again across his shoulders, and he could feel it deep in his balls. He moaned, fingers curling around the chains. Harrison groaned into their kiss, and the leather hit him again. He whimpered softly. It felt so good.
"I have you," Harrison whispered. The leather kept falling.
"It burns. Don't leave me here."
"I'm not leaving you anywhere, Giles."
"Okay. Okay. I. Oh." The next blow left him a little breathless.
"Right here. With you." More hits, each thud going through him.
He started groaning, grunting with each and every blow. Harrison held him throughout, body warm and solid in front of him as the leather thudded against the skin of his back. He slumped in the chains, trusting them and Harrison to hold him up.
They did. Harrison did. The hits melded one into the other, warmth spreading across his back. His breath came in time with the blows, his body shivering. Harrison's lips slid over his face, kissing, caressing. He moaned softly, so lost but so found, all at once.
It continued, Harrison breathing into him with every hit. At some point the warmth became heat, became pain, the relaxation threatening to become tension again. Just as it was becoming too much, Harrison stopped hitting him with the leather, letting it trail over his skin instead. Giles took one hitching breath after another.
The touches eventually faded away, leaving only him and Harrison in a cone of silence.
***
Harrison leaned his forehead against Giles' and breathed in and out with his sub. It had been amazing to watch Giles go from worry and panic to pleasure and then bliss. And now this lovely, deep quiet that they shared together. Every now and then he pressed a kiss to Giles' lips, his jaw, his cheek.
He let it go as long as he could, let Giles stay right there, and then he slid his hand up Giles' stretched arms and slowly undid the cuffs. He caught Giles as the man slumped down, cradling him easily as he moved them to the bed. Once Giles was laid out, he started massaging the long arms.
Giles took little, hitching breaths, slowly relaxing for him, melting. Moaning. Oh yes, Giles was in a good space, quiet and still, no worries filling him.
Harrison had known the man was a natural pain slut, but this had gone better than anything he could have hoped for. He wondered how long the bliss and quiet would last, how deep the pain had gone.
He'd watched the fury as Giles painted, the ferocity. Now it was time for them. He would feed Giles, love on him, take him to this place of bliss. Make it good. He pressed a kiss on Giles' belly, rubbed his hand over one sweet ass cheek.
"I. Is this okay?"
"This is wonderful -- don't you feel it?"
"Yes." Giles nodded.
"How's your back?" He wasn't going to put anything on it that would numb the pain. Giles needed to feel everything.
"Warm."
"Good. It'll stay that way for awhile."
"Okay. I just want to stay here for a minute."
"We can stay here for a lot longer than a minute."
"Okay." Giles nodded again.
He chuckled and lay down, hand wrapping around Giles' hip. "So what do you usually do when you're not painting?"
"I'm always painting."
"Not anymore." There would be more balance to Giles' life now. He would see to it. He had to protect this man, even from himself.
"Shh. I have to."
"I'm not saying don't paint. I'm saying not always."
"What else would I do? What do you do? I mean, I go out sometimes, hook up, but not so much now."
"Read, exercise, go to the park, watch TV..."
"Oh." Giles chuckled. "I paint. Listen to music."
"And now you hang out with me, too."
"Mmm. I like your house."
"Good."
Giles' hand slid along his skin, the touch long, lazy. Harrison hummed and pushed close, letting their bodies rub. "Oh. Oh, this is... tell me you like this."
"I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't, G."
"Okay." Giles leaned in, lips brushing his collarbone.
"Mmm. Nice."
"Yes. Your skin tastes so good."
"What does it taste like?"
"Warm red."
"Yeah?" He thought Giles' brain was a fascinating place.
"Yes. With the tiniest bit of burnt umber."
"Do I always taste like those colors? Do my kisses taste like a different color than my skin?" He wanted to see himself like Giles did.
"Yes. Your kisses are purples. Deeper, quieter. You make all the sounds stop screaming at me."
He'd never heard subspace described like that before, but he liked it. "Cool."
Every time Giles blinked, the long eyelashes tickled his skin. It eventually made him shiver and laugh.
"What's funny?"
"You're tickling."
"Am not." Giles blinked again.
He laughed again and nodded. "Are too."
"Not." Blink.
This time the sound he made was almost a snort. "Too."
Giles started laughing, soft and gentle, the sound addictive. Smiling, he ran his hand through Giles' hair. Those lovely eyes looked up at him. Someone liked that. He tugged a little, pulling Giles' head back, exposing the long throat, and Giles' lips parted as his neck stretched.
Groaning, he leaned in and wrapped his lips around Giles' skin.
"Harrison..."
Giles tasted salty. "Hmm?"
"You are an amazing lover."
Oh, he liked to hear that. It made him feel like a god. "You deserve it. Deserve me."
"How come you didn't have a lover?"
"I didn't have one. Now I do." It was as simple as that. He'd been wanting Giles. "And you're everything I could have ever asked for."
"I'm an artist, that's all."
"'That's all,' like it's nothing." Silly man.
"No, it's more than nothing, but it makes for a bad boyfriend situation."
"I can deal with that."
Giles chuckled for him. "Stubborn man."
"Very. And I'm not giving you up." He let his hand slide over Giles' back, the skin hot. "No one else can give you this."
"It was so different."
"Better than cutting, though, wasn't it?"
Giles could deny it all he wanted, but Harrison knew. He knew.
Giles' fingers brushed over his lips. "Shh."
"Whether you admit it or not, it's still true."
"You talk a lot."
That had him laughing. "I think it's more a matter of me saying things you want to keep secret, hidden."
"Secrets are very important."
"Are they?
"Yes." Giles sounded very sure.
"But if I already know them..."
Those lovely eyes met his, the look curious. "What?"
"They aren't secrets if I already know them. Like you cutting, you needing the pain, loving it."
"I... It just... It happens. That's all."
"No, it doesn't 'just' happen. You make it happen. And now I will."
Giles shook his head. "Shh. Just shh."
Harrison grinned, shook his head, too; he was enjoying the heck out of himself. "No, I won't."
"Why not?" Someone was getting riled up.
"Because I like the way it makes you react. And because it's the truth."
"React how? I'm not crazy. You know that."
Whoever had put Giles in the loony bin needed to be beaten. "Did I say I thought you were crazy? I know you're not. And I know what you need, and I know there's nothing wrong with it."
"You're the only one."
"No I'm not -- you know."
"I do. I know." Giles sighed for him, eyes closing.
"And you have to stop beating yourself up for needing it. There's nothing wrong with what you need, what we do."
Giles sat up, pulled away. "You talk about it like it's nothing, like it's normal."
"Because to me, it is." He thought, maybe, that scared Giles a bit, that something so important, so secret, was normal to him. "We're going to make each other fly, Giles."
"I'm not feeling in control here."
"You can stop this anytime you want, G."
"Anytime?"
"Anytime."
"Okay." Giles reached for his hand, held it.
He squeezed Giles' hand and settled their foreheads together, breathing Giles in.
Chapter Eight
Giles woke up to his phone ringing, Marisa's ring tone filling the air with "Day-O."
God, he'd been asleep. Again.
He headed to his pants, the skin on his back buzzing nicely, and grabbed his phone. "'Lo?"
"Giles? Where are you?" His twin sounded worried.
"Huh?"
"You're not at the studio. Where are you?"
He frowned. "Are the paintings okay?"
"Yes. Yes, of course they are. They're stunning. I'm worried about you, dork. You're always at the studio." She laughed softly. "Do you want to have lunch? I haven't seen you in days."
The urge to say no was huge. He wanted to stay with Harrison for a little longer. Still, she was his sister, his twin, and he felt a little pang.
Harrison rolled over in the bed. "Giles?"
He nodded. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I'll go in the other room."
"Giles?" Marisa sounded shocked. "Are you with a lover?"
"Shut up."
"You are!" She squealed. "Oh, my God!"
"S'okay -- who is that?" Harrison stretched. "I can hear them from here."
"My sister the banshee." He actually laughed, shook his head. "Can I take a rain check? Please?"
"Yes, but I want to meet him. Dinner. My house. Tomorrow. If he can't, just text. We'll make something yummy."
"That's fair. I'll text. Love you, huh?"
"Of course you do. Are the canvases off the easel ready for framing?"
He thought about that, about which ones were last. "They are."
"Good. Do not freak out when you get home and they're gone."
"I won't."
Her laughter sounded again. "You will, too. Bye, Gilly."
"Bye, Silly."
He hung up, all grins.
"Gilly? Did she call you Gilly?" Harrison laughed.
"She always has." He laughed along. "She wants you to come to dinner tomorrow."
"Yeah?" Harrison nodded. "I need to double-check my calendar, but I'd like that."
"If you're busy, I'll cancel. She said it wasn't a big deal." He wanted Marisa to like Harrison.
Harrison stood and stretched and grabbed his laptop, bringing up a calendar screen. "
No, I'm good."
"Okay." He reached down, grabbed his pants again. He needed to get dressed.
Harrison came over and rubbed his ass. "Mmm, where are you going?"
"Nowhere. Dressed." Those hands felt so good. "I sleep a lot when I'm with you."
"I've been with you -- you aren't sleeping that much."
"Feels like I am. You're warm."
"You're may be sleeping more than you usually do, but that doesn't make it a lot."
That hand kept moving, distracting him from getting dressed. "Hmm?"
Harrison pulled him in close. "Come be warm with me."
His pants fell from his fingers, the touch fascinating. Long fingers slid over his belly, almost tickling, but not.
"You're painting me." It was the hottest thing ever.
"Is that what I'm doing?"
"Yes." He moaned, eyes on Harrison's touch. It surprised him that his skin didn't change colors.
"What color am I painting?"
"Red." That was easy. Red.
"Red for passion." Harrison's fingers kept stroking over his skin. Red meant so much more than that, but it would work for now. "Is this red, too?" Harrison bent and licked at his shoulder, then ran the hot tongue along his collarbone.
"Bright. Red with yellow shot through."
Harrison groaned and nibbled at his neck.
"Yes..." He loved the sting. Loved it.
Tongue flicking out, Harrison licked where he'd nibbled, then bit again, a little harder this time.
"Oh. Hungry." It was so easy to get caught here.
"I like the way you hunger."
His cock was paying attention, filling, swelling between his thighs.
"I like it a lot." Harrison tilted his head and wrapped warm lips around Giles' Adam's apple.
His eyes closed and Giles held on, lights going off behind his eyelids. The sucking was soft, but growing in strength, Harrison tugging on his skin. He swallowed, shivering with it. One hand slid over to his left nipple, tweaking the ring, and he went up on tiptoe, that ache deep. Harrison's hum vibrated all through his throat.
"Oh." He didn't know where to move. The world was lit in color.
Harrison drew his body in closer, rubbing them together as the sensations continued. Fuck, his body ached, the sensation delicious.
Harrison pushed him up against the wall, the cold shocking against his back. He jerked, almost pulled away. Harrison had him, though, pushed him back against the wall, keeping him there. So strong. So fucking strong. It made him a little dry-mouthed.