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The Sanctum doors swing open for Tony, and he pats a pillar in thanks as he walks by. There’s plenty about magic that drives him nuts, but a sentience living in a building is something he’s very familiar with, even if he’d programmed the others he’d known. “Stephen? You around?” he calls out, but there’s no response. They hadn’t planned to meet up today, but a board meeting had, miraculously, ended early and Tony wants to make sure no one can find him in the event they suddenly think of something else to discuss. The Sanctum is good for that.
Tony checks the library first, but there’s no sign of Stephen, so he makes his way up to the second floor and down the hall to Stephen’s bedroom. For all the studies and sitting rooms in the Sanctum, sometimes his bedroom is still the best place to read in peace.
Finding the correct door, Tony knocks briefly before pushing it open and stepping inside. “Hey, Strangers Things. What, are you—”
He stops and blinks at the bed for a moment. Tony was going to tease, but Stephen really is sleeping in the middle of the day.
Naked.
It looks like he’d tried to pull a scrap of sheet over himself and passed out before he finished, because it barely covers half his ass, leaving the other cheek—and most of the rest of his body—exposed. Tony sweeps his eyes over Stephen’s form, slowly taking in the planes of his face, peaceful in sleep, and the long, lean lines of his body. With all the layers of robes and cloak, it’s easy to forget what a long, tall drink of water Stephen is, but the lines of his body are on full display now, and God he’s gorgeous. Before Tony quite knows what he’s doing, he’s pulled away the scrap of sheet to expose Stephen fully.
His waist and hips are narrow, but somehow that doesn’t stop him from having a beautifully full, round ass. And so pale. Smooth. Tony swallows hard against the aching need to touch. He’s been tempted before. Something about the slack vulnerability of sleep has always stirred Tony’s lust, but he’s never actually given in to the desire. Now, it’s almost overwhelming. Stephen takes on so much, bears his responsibilities with such focus, to see him unburdened is a hundred times as powerful. A hundred times as arousing.
Tony holds his breath as he rests one knee on the edge of the bed and reaches out. Stephen’s skin is warm under Tony’s hand, and just as smooth as it looks. The swell of his ass dimples slightly under a gentle squeeze, and Stephen moans softly. Tony freezes, eyes darting up to Stephen’s face, but he’s still asleep. As Tony watches, pleasure flushes his face. Under Tony’s hand, his hips flex, rubbing against the bed. “Oh, you like this,” Tony murmurs. He gives Stephen’s ass a slow, careful stroke and is rewarded with another breathy noise and more grinding.
Whatever restraint Tony had left evaporates like mist on a hot day. He climbs the rest of the way onto the bed, straddling Stephen’s thighs and cupping Stephen’s ass in both hands. Stephen squirms slightly, but doesn’t wake even as Tony’s touches grow firmer. Instead, he rocks between Tony’s hands and the bed, arousal bringing a gorgeous pink color to his skin.
As Stephen’s noises grow sharper, needier, Tony curses and fumbles his pants open with one hand, the other still encouraging Stephen’s grinding. “You are so fucking gorgeous,” Tony breathes as he gets a hand around his own cock. He doesn’t try to hold back; it doesn’t seem like Stephen will take long to finish, and the longer Tony goes the greater the risk that Stephen will wake up. So he pumps his cock quickly, gaze fixed on Stephen’s pleasure-filled face.
Tony comes first, biting his lip hard to suppress the shout. His come stripes the skin of Stephen’s ass, a drip rolling down the curve and into the cleft between his cheeks. Tony stares for a moment. Stephen is still sleeping, still rubbing his cock against the bed, and… in for a penny, in for a pound, right? Tony leans down and licks his come from Stephen’s skin, parting his cheeks to chase that drip and exposing Stephen’s hole. Tony moans softly and slides his tongue over the furled muscle, almost dizzy with the musky scent of Stephen’s body. Feeling Stephen flex under his touch, Tony presses his tongue inside. Stephen groans and comes, hole clenching around Tony’s tongue, hips giving a couple final jerks before relaxing into stillness again.
Sitting up, Tony wipes his mouth and waits for a long, breathless moment, but it seems that Stephen is going to go on sleeping. Actually, Tony thinks he might be sleeping even more deeply now. Carefully, Tony climbs off the bed, tucks away his cock, and does up his pants.
How the hell is he supposed to resist this now that he knows how good it is?
*
The short answer is, he can’t. Tony is back a week later, this time with a device in hand that will maintain Stephen’s sleep no matter how enthusiastic Tony gets. It won’t work unless Stephen is already sleeping, and it’s only 11pm when Tony gets to the Sanctum, but when he enters Stephen’s bedroom Stephen is there, resting peacefully. On his back, this time.
Carefully, Tony makes his way to the head of the bed and leans over, almost holding his breath as he settles the sleep device against Stephen’s forehead. He never so much as twitches, and when Tony calls his name and shakes his shoulder, Stephen sleeps on. “Perfect,” Tony says, stroking the hair back from Stephen’s face. Tony is already starting to get hard, the thrill of having Stephen so loose and relaxed and entirely at his disposal going straight to his cock.
Pulling back the sheets, Tony moans when he discovers that Stephen is sleeping naked again. He’d thought that might have been due to the obvious exhaustion that Stephen had fallen into bed with last time, but no, he’s deliciously bare tonight, too. And this time Tony gets his first look at Stephen’s cock. It’s a little smaller than Tony expected, given how tall Stephen is, but beautifully shaped. Maybe he’s a grower.
Shedding his clothing, Tony climbs onto the bed, straddling Stephen’s thighs, and gently takes Stephen’s cock in hand. It only takes a few strokes before he starts to stiffen and swell. “So responsive,” Tony murmurs. Stephen’s cock takes on a dark pink color as he hardens, and he does get a bit bigger, but not much. Tony’s own dick is aching, so he shuffles up a bit, just enough that he can cradle both shafts in his hand at the same time.
Stephen moans when Tony’s hot, rigid cock presses against his. Tony looks up to find Stephen’s expression suffused with the same pleasure as last time. “Oh yeah, you like this,” he says, delighted. He continues stroking their cocks together, admiring the contrast between them, his own long and thick and flushed dark and Stephen’s slender and paler, even now that he’s fully hard.
It’s a stupid, ridiculous thought, but Tony can’t help thinking that Stephen’s cock looks like it’s made for looking at, for admiring, for playing with, not for fucking. Both of them are leaking copious pre-come, and Tony smears it over their shafts. Somehow Stephen’s cock only looks prettier, glistening with pearly fluid. Tony’s mouth waters. He wants to lick it, to suck it, but he can’t stop rubbing his own cock against Stephen’s, squeezing them together in his hand.
In sleep, Stephen has no reason to hold back, to restrain himself, and he comes quickly. The throbbing of his cock against Tony’s quickly finishes Tony off, too, and their spend splatters over Stephen’s belly and groin. As he slows his stroking, Tony realizes that there’s no way to tell their come apart. It doesn’t seem like that much more than normal, even. He could leave it there, and Stephen would just think he’d had a wet dream. The thought sends a sharp throb of lust through Tony. Yes. He’s going to do it. He can’t not do it, not now that he’s imagining Stephen waking to find his cock and balls and belly decorated with Tony’s come, even if he doesn’t know that’s what it is.
Gently releasing Stephen’s softening shaft, Tony considers his own come-slicked cock and then carefully crawls up until he’s kneeling over Stephen’s head. Gripping the bed’s headboard for balance, Tony reaches down and guides the head of his cock to Stephen’s lips. He’d only been planning on rubbing a little, on seeing Stephen’s mouth shiny with Tony’s semen, but to his stunned delight, Stephen opens his mouth after a moment, tongue sliding out to lick the traces of come from his lips and brushing by Tony’s cockhead on the way.
Groaning, Tony pushes forward and watches, breathless, as the head of his cock slips into Stephen’s mouth. Surely Stephen will turn his head, pull away… But he doesn’t. No, instead he makes a soft noise and closes his lips around Tony, tongue rubbing against him. “Look at you,” Tony says, transfixed. “A natural born cock sucker.”
He can’t move much, afraid that in this position he might choke Stephen and not realize it, so he rocks just the tiniest amount, thrusting maybe an inch of his cock into Stephen’s mouth. Stephen, the absolute treasure, sucks and tongues Tony’s cock without pause. Is he dreaming? Tony wonders. Is Stephen dreaming of sucking cock, or is it just instinct for him? Tony’s not sure which possibility is hotter.
It doesn’t really matter, in the end. Tony is going to come again, and as much as he wants Stephen to swallow his load, he can’t risk it. A little bit on his lips is bound to fade by morning, but a mouthful of semen might leave a lingering taste. Instead, Tony pulls back and lets his come shoot onto Stephen’s face, milky fluid dripping down those spectacular cheekbones and into his goatee. Of course, Tony can’t leave that there, no matter how good it looks, so once he’s got himself squared away, he leans down and licks Stephen’s face clean, finishing with a soft kiss to the man’s unresponsive lips. “You are amazing,” Tony murmurs. “I can’t wait until next time.”
*
Of course it only escalates from there.
Tony has never been good at restraint. He starts dropping by the Sanctum at night maybe three times a week. Half the time Stephen is still awake, which has the unintended but not unwelcome side effect of quickly deepening their nascent friendship. Tony should probably feel guilty about the fact that he’s regularly taking advantage of a man with whom he’s building affection and trust, but he just… can’t. Stephen is so responsive when he’s asleep, he so transparently enjoys everything that Tony does to him, that it doesn’t feel wrong. It is wrong, Tony knows that intellectually, but it's like knowing that eating too much cake is bad—everything about it feels so good that just knowing it’s bad isn’t enough to stop you from doing it. You need tangible consequences for that, and long as Stephen doesn’t find out, there are no consequences.
The frustrating downside of the secrecy is that it places real limits on what Tony can do. He can’t come in Stephen’s mouth, or leave marks, or fuck him with more than a single finger. And God, he wants to fuck Stephen so badly, wants to bury his cock in that fantastic ass and see if he can make Stephen come just from being taken. Tony thinks he could. But there’s no way that wouldn’t leave Stephen sore in the morning, so he can’t.
It’s been going on almost three months and Tony is feeling pretty comfortable with everything when the other shoe drops. The first sign is when Stephen texts him the morning after one of Tony’s visits. I need your advice on something important. And personal. Can I come over?
It could be anything, but the timing sends a jolt of unease through Tony. Of course, he sends back.
A portal immediately opens in the penthouse living room and Stephen steps through, dressed casually. Tony waves his coffee cup at him from the kitchen, “You want coffee? Tea?”
“No, thank you.” Stephen rubs his palms against his pants. It’s a nervous gesture. “I think I need to get this out before I think too much.”
Tony’s unease grows. He comes out of the kitchen and leads Stephen to the living room couch, where they slide a little sideways so that they’re facing each other. “Go ahead,” Tony encourages when Stephen is still silent.
Stephen takes a slow breath. “This morning, I discovered that someone has been coming into my room in the Sanctum while I’m sleeping and… touching me. Sexually.”
Shit. Tony sets his coffee down. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m not hurt,” Stephen says. “Unless you count some beard burn.”
Shit! Apparently Tony had gotten a little too comfortable with what he’d decided were his limits. Aloud, he says, “No, I mean, emotionally. Are you okay?” Stephen was never supposed to know.
Strangely, Stephen blushes slightly, looking away from Tony. “I don’t feel violated, if that’s what you mean. I didn’t even feel particularly upset when I realized what had happened.” Stephen drops his gaze. “That’s… kind of the problem.”
“The problem is that you’re not upset, not that someone took advantage of you?” Tony clarifies.
Stephen flushes darker. “Maybe I shouldn’t—”
He starts to stand, but Tony reaches out and stops him. “I was clarifying, not judging,” he says quickly. And then, going off Stephen’s words and his blush, takes a guess: “God knows I’ve gotten off to stranger things.”
Stephen is bright pink now, the flush extending up to his hairline and down below the neck of his shirt. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he blurts out. “I woke up, and I knew something was off, so I checked the Sanctum’s wards—” Oh God, how had it never occurred to Tony that Stephen would have magical protections? “—and when I realized what had happened I wasn’t disgusted or horrified, I was turned on.” Stephen covers his face with his hands. “That’s just not normal.”
Relief—and no small amount of his own arousal—courses through Tony. He carefully takes hold of one of Stephen’s wrists and tugs his hands down again. “It also doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you,” Tony says gently, taking Stephen’s hand in his. “You can’t predict how you’re going to react to something like that.”
Stephen holds onto his hand tightly. “You don’t understand. It’s not just my reaction today. It’s…” He closes his eyes and takes a breath, then opens them and meets Tony’s gaze with determination. “I need to explain the Sanctum’s wards.” Tony nods for him to go on. “They’re designed to alert me and immobilize anyone who intended to do harm,” Stephen explains, “but ‘harm’ is too nebulous a concept to build into a spell. So instead, the wards check two sources. First, they check the person acting within the Sanctum for intent. This is how the wards tell the difference between people sparring and people being attacked—the physical result may be the same, but the intent in sparring isn’t to hurt anyone. Second, the wards check the Sanctum’s Master—me—for the definition of ‘harm’. This is how they tell that someone who wants to burn the Sanctum down because people need to be protected from magic is a threat, even though they don’t consider their actions harmful.”
“Makes sense,” Tony says when Stephen pauses.
Stephen nods and gathers himself to go on. “So the fact that my…visitor…didn’t trigger the wards means that not only did he not intend to hurt me, but also I… I wouldn’t consider his actions harmful.” Stephen swallows heavily. “It’s not just an atypical reaction. I must enjoy it. Want it, even.”
The shame in Stephen’s voice makes Tony’s heart ache. He never wanted Stephen to be hurt by this, but at least this is a hurt that Tony can soothe honestly. “Stephen, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Tony says firmly. “So you’re a little kinkier than you realized. This is an odd way to figure that out, but—”
“Kinkier!” Stephen interrupts incredulously. “Tony, this wasn’t a carefully negotiated scene! I didn’t—”
“Stephen,” Tony interrupts, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You weren’t upset at what he’d done, you were upset that you enjoyed it.” Stephen deflates. “The things that get you off are not a judgment on your character,” Tony goes on. “Being kinky or being vanilla doesn’t make you a better or worse person just like being straight or being gay doesn’t make you a better or worse person.”
“I know, but…” Stephen struggles for words for a moment. “Sex is about connection, even if it’s superficial. Isn’t it?”
Tony can’t help it, he laughs. Stephen flushes and looks away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Tony says. “I shouldn’t have laughed. Sex can be about connection, sure. But take it from someone who has had a lot of sex, most of the time it’s just about pleasure. Even between long term partners, people who really do love each other, most of the time when you fuck it’s because you’re horny and you want to get off. And there’s nothing wrong with that, either.”
Stephen nods, but doesn’t speak, instead looking down at where their hands are clasped. “I haven’t experimented much,” he admits. “And this— I think I’d be less thrown if it was spanking or bondage. The fact that I’m this aroused by an act where I wasn’t technically present...”
“I mean, the not being present is what makes it exciting, though, isn’t it?” Tony asks. “Knowing that you could give someone that kind of pleasure without even having to do anything?” Stephen goes pink again. Tony suppresses a grin. “Or is it the idea of being used? Your body just a toy that they get off with?”
“Tony!” Stephen chokes out.
“Or a little of both, maybe?” Tony says, grin slipping free. Stephen covers his face with one hand, not letting go of Tony with the other, but he’s smiling slightly, even if it is mostly embarrassment. “You’re allowed to enjoy yourself,” Tony says. Stephen relaxes, uncovering his face, like being given permission had helped. It’s enough for Tony to risk pushing a little more. “And you’re allowed to continue enjoying yourself.”
Stephen grimaces at that. “Am I? I can’t think only of myself, here. What if he’s doing this to other people? That he doesn’t intend to do harm doesn’t mean someone else wouldn’t be harmed.”
Tony’s mind races as he searches for a way to convince Stephen that isn’t a problem without being suspiciously certain that he’s the only one. Something about how the wards work, maybe. Inspiration strikes, and Tony had to swallow his own excitement. “Well,” he says slowly instead, “you said that the wards use you for the definition of harm, right?” Stephen nods. “Wouldn’t you consider it harmful if you were only the latest in a series? Especially since the others wouldn’t have the protection of the wards?”
“Yes,” Stephen says, with obvious relief. “I would.”
“Besides,” Tony adds, “if he were going to be satisfied with just anyone, there are much easier targets. Safer ones, too. This must be about you, specifically.” Stephen squirms slightly and Tony has to swallow a delighted noise. “You like that, don’t you?”
“Doesn’t everyone like being wanted?” Stephen argues, but he’s back to blushing.
“They do,” Tony reassures him immediately. For a moment, he’s tempted to tell Stephen that it’s him, that Tony is the visitor who has been using him, but he resists. Stephen’s probably going to need more than one conversation to make peace with his kinks, and even then, while the involvement of an anonymous stranger isn’t really influencing his reaction, a friend probably would. People have higher expectations for their friends.
“Do you really think,” Stephen asks hesitantly, “that it’s alright if I let this go on?”
Tony injects as much warmth and support into his voice as he can. “Yes, I do. Look, I won’t pretend there’s no risk. Normally you would negotiate this sort of thing. But if you trust the wards, well… being surprised can be a lot of fun, too.”
“And I can stop it, or identify my visitor, any time I choose,” Stephen adds.
“Exactly,” Tony says, and hopes Stephen can’t tell that his heart rate has leapt into a faster rhythm. Tony’s risk has gone way, way up, but like hell is he going to stop.
Not now that Stephen’s discovery lets Tony do away with the limits he’d set for himself.
*
It takes all of Tony’s admittedly weak restraint to stick to his rules for another week. A significant escalation immediately after their conversation would be too obvious. Even a week isn’t much separation—Tony has Stephen only twice in that time—but he can’t resist any longer.
Slipping into Stephen’s room, Tony finds him sleeping on his back. Stephen sleeps in all kinds of positions. Sometimes that dictates what Tony does to him, and sometimes Tony repositions him, but tonight this is perfect. Tony settles the sleep device in its usual place on Stephen’s forehead and does the usual check to make sure he’s well and truly out. As always, he doesn’t stir, and Tony sits on the edge of the bed and pets Stephen’s chest, thumb idly teasing a nipple. “I think you’re going to like this,” Tony says. “Nothing too extreme, promise.”
As desperately as Tony wants to fuck Stephen, he doesn’t want to risk scaring the man away. Stephen’s still skittish about his kink. Tony’s going to have to work up to leaving him to wake fucked out and covered in come.
The thought alone sends a throb of arousal through Tony. Standing, he pulls back the sheets. Stephen is naked, of course. He rarely wears clothes to bed, a habit that Tony appreciates deeply. Okay, occasionally Tony might fantasize about leaving Stephen’s sleep clothes in disarray, but most of the time he’s glad to have immediate access to Stephen’s body.
Tonight, Tony strips down and sprawls on his belly between Stephen’s legs, admiring Stephen’s cock for a moment before leaning down to lick and tease it to hardness. Stephen’s just as responsive as always, breathing deepening, his legs splaying open a little more, inviting Tony to caress his balls, maybe even his hole. For now, Tony stays focused on his cock, bobbing his head up and down, eyes closed as he savors the taste of Stephen and the weight of him on his tongue. Tony sucks Stephen until his breath starts hitching and the flow of pre-come is steady, both signs that Stephen is getting close, and then Tony pulls off.
Stephen, still sleeping, nevertheless makes a soft, disappointed noise. Tony pats his hip as he kneels up and climbs off the bed. “Sorry,” he says, patting Stephen’s hip, “but that’s just the warm up.”
Moving to the head of the bed, Tony gets a grip on Stephen and carefully pulls him around until he’s laying crossways, his head hanging over the edge. The position makes a long, straight line of Stephen’s throat.
Tony runs a thumb over the head of his cock, collecting pre-come, and then touches it to Stephen’s mouth. He parts his lips immediately, licking Tony’s thumb and making it easy for Tony to tug his mouth open wider. “You never can resist the taste of come,” Tony says, thumb holding Stephen’s mouth open as he guides his cock into position. In all the time he’s been playing with Stephen, Tony has yet to find a faster, more reliable way to get Stephen to open up for him than to give him a taste of come.
Stephen’s lips close around Tony’s cock as readily as ever, but this time Tony doesn’t stop there. Slowly, carefully, he pushes his cock deeper, pulling back only when Stephen’s breathing hitches. “You can do this,” Tony murmurs, thrusting forward again. “Just relax.” It takes a few tries, but eventually they get the trick of it. Tony’s practically holding his breath, looking down and seeing his cock buried to the root in Stephen’s mouth over and over again. He wishes he could see more of Stephen’s face, but this is really the only position that lets him go this deep while Stephen is sleeping.
“You’re doing so well,” Tony says, thrusting into Stephen’s throat again. “You can take it a little faster, can’t you?” He tries picking up the pace a little, and there’s a moment when he thinks it’s too much, but then Stephen swallows around him and yes, that’s good, it’s perfect. Tony fucks Stephen’s mouth steadily, watching the spit-slick, glistening length of his cock slide past Stephen’s stretched lips again and again. Stephen’s throat is going to be sore, Tony thinks, and the thought of Stephen waking and swallowing and feeling the ghost of Tony’s cock inside him is enough to tip him over the edge.
Tony quickly pulls back, come spurting into Stephen’s mouth. He expects it to spill over, but instead Stephen seals his lips around Tony, throat working frantically as he swallows every bit of Tony’s load. “Fuck,” Tony breathes, Stephen’s enthusiastic swallowing milking an extra spurt or two out of him. When he’s done, Tony pulls free slowly. Stephen’s expression is relaxed, even pleased. Looking down the length of Stephen’s body, Tony finds his cock flushed hard and straining. “Yeah, you liked that,” he says. He moves down to sit by Stephen’s hip, wrapping a hand around the hot, rigid length of him. It only takes a few strokes before Stephen comes. Tony lets his spunk splatter over his skin, as he always does. He can never resist the thought of Stephen waking marked with the evidence of what he’s done.
The next morning, when Stephen asks to come over, Tony can’t help wondering if his voice will be rough, if Tony will be able to hear the proof that Tony had fucked his throat.
“Morning,” Tony says as Stephen exits his portal. “Coffee? Tea?”
“Tea would be lovely,” Stephen says, and disappointingly his voice sounds entirely normal.
When they’re seated at the breakfast bar, Stephen turns his teacup around in his hands a couple of times. “It happened again,” he says eventually.
A thrill goes through Tony. “Your visitor?”
Stephen nods. “Actually,” he admits, “it’s happened three times since we talked about it.”
“But last night was different?” Tony prompts.
“This morning was,” Stephen says. The blush is back, though it’s only a hint of color on his cheekbones. “My throat was sore. And the taste…”
“Too much?” Tony asks, though he’s sure it wasn’t. Not with that blush.
“Depends on what you mean by ‘too much.’” Stephen ducks his head, embarrassed. “I brought myself off thinking about it.”
Tony’s grateful for the breakfast bar between them; he’s half hard already. “If you need to hear it again,” Tony says, “there’s nothing wrong with you. Your visitor enjoyed himself, you enjoyed yourself, it’s all good.”
Stephen relaxes and takes a long sip from his tea. Tony waits. “I thought about it,” Stephen finally says. “What it must be like for him. Having me, slack and unresponsive…”
God, if Stephen keeps going like this, Tony is going to have a problem. He resists the urge to adjust himself. “Are you so sure you were unresponsive?”
Stephen raises his eyebrows. “I was asleep.”
“And you’re totally motionless when you sleep?” Tony asks skeptically. He knows Stephen isn’t, but the skepticism isn’t suspicious—most people move around at least a little, and wet dreams are a thing.
“No, but—” Stephen stops, then stops and blushes hard. “I suppose I must have swallowed, at least.” He sips his tea, but Tony can tell from the way he fidgets that he’s not done. “Do you think he likes that?” Stephen finally asks, so quietly Tony almost can’t hear him.
Oh, God, yes. But Tony can’t say that. “I think if he wasn’t enjoying himself, he wouldn’t still be visiting.”
“I knew he must like it,” Stephen says slowly. “There’s no other reason for him to do it. But until this morning, there was no evidence of that. Waking up and realizing I could taste his come got me harder than I’ve ever been in my life.” Stephen lifts his fingers to brush his lips, then starts and lowers them self-consciously. He gives Tony a sheepish smile. “Thank you, by the way. For talking with me about this. You were the only person I thought might not judge me.”
“Any time,” Tony says easily. Then he grins. “Glad to put my sordid past to good use.”
Stephen laughs, fortunately. ‘Sordid’ could have landed wrong. It seems like he’s gotten all the reassurance he needs, at least for this morning, because the conversation moves on from there, though Stephen doesn’t leave. Fortunately, they stay at the breakfast bar until Tony’s erection subsides.
*
Despite knowing how much Stephen enjoyed it when Tony left evidence behind, he forces himself to continue stepping things up gradually. Stephen is coming along beautifully, he doesn’t want to ruin it by rushing.
And really, there are so many options for how he can enjoy Stephen, taking the scenic route to his ultimate fantasy isn’t exactly a hardship. Tony ruts into the cleft between Stephen’s ass cheeks and leaves his come pooled in the small of his back. He teases Stephen’s nipples until they’re puffy and sore. He uses Stephen’s mouth again, and again, and again, because the fact that Stephen sucks cock even in his sleep is irresistable. And in the mornings, Tony is supportive as Stephen works through his shame and embarrassment at getting off on being used while he sleeps.
They don’t talk every morning after, of course. Tony would be happy to, but he leaves it to Stephen to decide when he needs to talk. Or, as time goes on, when he just wants to talk. More and more often lately it seems like Stephen is more interested in reliving the moment when he wakes up and speculates on how he was used than he is in reassurance. Tony loves it.
“He’s getting bolder,” Stephen says one morning, sitting comfortably at the breakfast bar, a cup of tea cradled in his hands. Tony is making pancakes. “He came on my face last night.”
“That is bold,” Tony says. He’s standing, but he’s not worried about giving himself away; at this point, he has a lot of practice in controlling his arousal.
“Hmmm. I’m sure he’s done it before,” Stephen goes on, “and he just cleaned up after himself. This time, he left it there.”
Tony looks up from the griddle and asks, as he always does, “Too much?”
Normally Stephen thinks about it, but today he shakes his head without pause. Then he makes a face. “Although cleaning dried semen out of my beard was a pain in the ass.”
Whoops. Tony hadn’t actually thought about that. His grimace of sympathy is entirely genuine; he’s been there. “You know, you could leave him a note. Ask him not to do that again.”
To Tony’s surprise, Stephen blushes. He’d gotten past that reaction, Tony had thought. At least with him. “No,” Stephen says. “I mean, I could, but the fact that he’s doing what he wants, not what I want, is part of the appeal.”
“It has to be obvious to him by now that you’re getting off on it,” Tony says, lifting the last few pancakes off the griddle and distributing them onto the waiting plates. He pushes one in front of Stephen. “And not just in an involuntary-reaction-wet-dream kind of way.”
“Yes, but me getting off isn’t the point.” Stephen spreads jam on his pancakes instead of syrup, the heathen. He pauses thoughtfully. “Although, I do think he gets off on me getting off. If he didn’t, surely there would have been nights when I didn’t come at all. So I suppose that it’s not so much that my pleasure doesn’t matter as it is that my input doesn’t matter.”
Tony drenches his own pancakes in syrup, of course. “You don’t worry about him going too far?” Tony worries about it. Having his limits removed was exciting, but also a little scary. He still doesn’t want to hurt Stephen.
“Not really,” Stephen says, in between bites of pancake. “The Sanctum wards are still in effect. Besides, I don’t think he’s interested in the things I’d consider too far.”
Tony raises his eyebrows. “How could you know that? You don’t know anything about him.”
“No, but I think there would be signs if he was inclined towards things like permanent marks, or blood, or burns,” Stephen says.
Okay, fair, he’s absolutely correct; Tony’s not into any of that. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” Tony says aloud. He’s never been a sadist; neither pain nor damage get him off. The exciting part is the freedom to use Stephen however he wants, to indulge his own urges without worrying about his partner’s desires.
That conversation feels almost like a green light to work up to fucking Stephen properly. Tony still hasn’t stretched his hole beyond a single finger, but fucking his ass doesn’t feel like that big a step past fucking his throat, and he hadn’t seen a flicker of shame from Stephen that morning.
As always, Tony makes himself wait a couple of weeks before he escalates again. When the night finally comes, he’s almost shaking with eagerness as he settles the sleep device on Stephen’s forehead. Stephen is sleeping on his stomach tonight, his head turned to the side, but the device goes on smoothly. Tony checks it twice before impatiently pulling the covers away to reveal Stephen’s body.
His long, slender legs are sprawled apart, teasing Tony with a peek at his hole. Tony shucks his clothing quickly, tossing a bottle of lube onto the bed as he does, and crawls onto the bed between Stephen’s legs. Cupping the firm cheeks of Stephen’s ass in his hands, Tony pulls them apart, revealing the tight pucker in all its glory. Tony groans, extending a thumb to brush over Stephen’s hole. “You are so fucking perfect,” Tony says, pressing gently with his thumb. Stephen’s hole flexes. “I can’t wait to get inside you.”
Tony doesn’t have the patience for foreplay today; he scoops up the lube and drizzles it between Stephen’s cheeks before pushing one finger smoothly inside him. Stephen releases a murmur of satisfaction; he’s taken this much many, many times. But Tony’s not stopping there tonight. After a few strokes, he adds more lube, then pushes a second finger firmly into Stephen. Stephen makes a soft noise, but it’s not pained, and his hole quickly softens and relaxes as Tony thrusts two fingers steadily in and out of him.
“Look how well you take it,” Tony says. “I bet I could have been using two fingers this whole time.” He twists them and Stephen squirms in his sleep, breath coming faster now. Licking his lips, Tony pauses, then lubes up a third finger and gives Stephen that one, too. The noise Stephen makes this time is sharper, but he doesn’t stiffen or pull away. No, he lifts his ass into the touch.
“You little slut,” Tony breathes, delighted. “You’re just gagging for it, aren’t you?”
The plan for tonight had been to give Stephen two fingers, maybe three if he responded well. But this is beyond Tony’s fantasies. Stephen is rolling his hips into the thrust of three of Tony’s fingers like he was born to it. He’s flushed and panting, even in sleep, and there’s no part of Tony that is strong enough to resist the picture Stephen makes. Pulling his fingers out of Stephen, Tony smooths a generous helping of lube over his cock and guides it to the glistening, flexing pucker of Stephen’s hole.
Pushing inside, Tony moans helplessly as the hot, tight clutch of Stephen’s body envelops his cock. It feels incredible. He doesn’t stop, sheathing himself in a single thrust and not stopping until his balls are pressed against Stephen’s ass. Looking down, the sight of his cock disappearing into Stephen’s body leaves him breathless. Tony watches, transfixed, as he pulls slowly back, his slick shaft emerging from Stephen, and then thrusts back in, Stephen’s body giving way before him.
A low, deep moan pulls Tony’s attention up to Stephen’s face. He looks a little stunned, but he’s also flushed with pleasure, breath coming hard and fast even in sleep.
“You’re going to love this,” Tony says, adjusting his grip on Stephen’s hips. Returning his attention to his cock, still buried in Stephen’s hole, Tony sets about fucking him just the way he’s been imagining for months: long, hard thrusts, giving Stephen every inch of his cock again and again and watching as his hole grows pink and swollen at the rough usage. Through it all, Stephen moans and squirms just as Tony had grown to expect he would. Tony’s not even trying to find his prostate, but Stephen clearly loves it anyway. Maybe his ass is just that sensitive, or maybe even his unconscious mind gets off on being used. The thought makes Tony’s cock throb. He’s embarrassingly close to coming already.
But then, why hold back? It’s not like Stephen will protest. Tony lets himself go with a long groan, balls tightening as his cock spurts load after load of come into Stephen. Stephen whines softly, still aroused, as Tony’s cock slowly softens inside of him.
When Tony pulls out, he leaves a small smear of semen across Stephen’s hole. Reaching out, he touches it with his fingertips. “Well, that’s just not enough,” Tony says absently. He wants to leave Stephen dripping. Besides, Stephen is still flushed and needy and raring to go. Tony slides two fingers into Stephen’s swollen hole, thrusting and twisting idly as he strokes himself with his other hand.
It only takes a few minutes for Tony to harden again; he’s always had a short refractory period. Pushing into Stephen’s hole the second time is even better than the first. He’s wet inside with come and lube and still so hot. He’s not as tight, of course, but Tony finds knowing that he’s fucked Stephen open only makes it hotter. He sets a slower pace this time, now that the edge has been taken off.
Stephen whimpers and squirms, hips shuddering between grinding into the bed beneath him and rocking back into Tony’s cock. He comes maybe halfway through round two, but Tony doesn’t even slow down. The hot, wet clutch of Stephen’s body is everything he’s ever wanted and there’s no reason for him not to thoroughly enjoy using it.
Tony honestly loses track of time, he’s so absorbed in admiring the sight and sensation of his cock plunging into Stephen’s ass over and over again. When Tony’s second climax finds him, he makes sure to pull out part way through so that he shoots ropes of come over Stephen’s hole and balls and inner thighs.
Tony leaves him to wake like that, legs spread wide, come coated, uncovered by even a single sheet.
*
Tony hardly sleeps that night, too eager for the morning to come. There’s no way Stephen won’t show up for a chat. Maybe he’ll need to work through this new escalation, but Tony thinks it’s more likely that Stephen will want to relive the experience by sharing it with the person who’s been supportive and understanding the whole time.
He’s nursing a coffee and trying not to watch the clock when a portal spins open in his kitchen. It’s not even 7am. Stephen steps through the portal with a very distinct hitch in his step. As good as Tony has gotten at controlling his arousal, he can’t suppress the sudden stirring of his cock at the sight.
Stephen’s eyes are bright, excited, when he catches sight of Tony, seated at the breakfast bar. Thank God; Tony’s not sure he could muster the patience for gentle support right now. “He did it, didn’t he?” Tony says, too eager to beat around the bush. “He fucked you.” There’s an edge of excitement in his tone that doesn’t really fit with ‘understanding friend’, but fuck, surely Stephen doesn’t think he’s been getting nothing out of all the play by plays Stephen has given him.
“He did,” Stephen says, almost breathless. He eases gingerly onto a stool next to Tony. “Maybe more than once, given the amount of come.” Tony bites back a moan. Stephen leans in, almost confidentially. “I was covered in it. But more than that… When I stood up, more leaked out of me.”
Tony’s cock swells further. “You liked that?” he says. It’s all he can do to make it a question.
Stephen laughs, slightly self-conscious. “I’ve never been more excited in my life,” he admits. He pauses, licking his lips nervously, and just looks at Tony for a moment. Whatever he’s looking for, he must find it. “And I realized something. I want more.”
“How much more is there?” Tony asks. His cock is throbbing now, fully hard. “I mean, you already said you didn’t want the hardcore stuff. Blood and all that.”
“I don’t,” Stephen affirms. “That’s not what I meant. I mean more often. I want—” He stops, takes a steadying breath. “I want him to be free to use me whenever he wants. Not just at night. Not just when I’m sleeping.”
Tony’s heart is thundering in his ears. “Isn’t that dangerous?” After all, Stephen’s only been okay with all of this because of the assurances given by the Sanctum’s wards.
But Stephen looks Tony straight in the eyes, raises his eyebrows, and says, “Is it?”
He knows.
Lust roars through Tony. Stephen knows. He knows he’s Tony’s to use whenever and however he wants. “Drop your pants and go bend over the back of the couch,” Tony orders hoarsely.
Stephen obeys at once. There’s no hesitation, no uncertainty. After a moment, Tony follows him over to the couch, sighing appreciatively at the sight of Stephen’s slender hips and firm ass tipped up for him. He puts his hands on Stephen’s cheeks, spreading them to expose his hole. It’s still a little reddened from being fucked the night before. “God, you’re gorgeous,” Tony says, rubbing his thumb over the tender ring. He pauses, suddenly realizing he doesn’t have lube. “I’ll be right back.”
“In my pants,” Stephen says.
Tony crouches and finds the pocket in the material—pants but no underwear, he notices—pooled around Stephen’s ankles. Sure enough, there’s a travel sized bottle of lube. Tony grins. “What a good fuck toy,” he says, quickly slicking up one finger and plunging it into Stephen. Stephen moans. “You know that’s what you are now, right?” Tony goes on. “My own personal fuck toy.”
“Yes,” Stephen gasps. “Yes, I’m yours, Tony.”
“My toy,” Tony prompts him, sliding a second finger into Stephen’s hole. Stephen takes it with a soft groan, opening up beautifully.
“I’m your toy,” Stephen repeats. He’s squirming a little, but he’s not trying to pull away, not at all.
“Perfect,” Tony says, his eyes fixed to the reddened rim of Stephen’s hole stretched around his fingers. He adds a third finger, maybe a little too soon, but what had Stephen said? My input doesn’t matter. As long as he’s not hurting Stephen—and Tony has more than enough experience to know he’s not anywhere close to that—all that matters is what Tony wants.
With that in mind, Tony works Stephen open with three fingers just enough to be sure Stephen is ready for his cock. It doesn’t take long: maybe he’s still stretched from the night before, but Tony is starting to think that his earlier theory is right and Stephen just has a hole made to be fucked. Either way, Tony’s soon withdrawing his fingers and sheathing his cock in Stephen’s ass instead.
Stephen moans loudly as he’s filled, his hole clenching deliciously around Tony. “Incredible,” Tony breathes, immediately pulling back and thrusting hard into Stephen. “You’re just as tight as you were last night.” Tony holds onto Stephen’s hips as he fucks him, revelling in the sound of skin slapping against skin. He has so much more leverage in this position, it’s fantastic. “I hope you realize what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“Tell me,” Stephen says, voice strained.
Surely he knows. And then Tony realizes: of course he does. He just wants to hear it.
“Well,” Tony begins, his cock still driving relentlessly into Stephen’s hole, “I don’t see why I should ever have to jerk off again, now that I’ve got a perfect fuck toy to satisfy me. I mean, this hole,” he gives an extra hard thrust, driving a grunt from Stephen, “might need the occasional break, but your mouth is an acceptable substitute. Did you know you suck cock even in your sleep? Your throat was a lot more than an open hole. I look forward to finding out how good you are when you put your mind to it.”
Stephen makes soft, desperate sounds, but he doesn’t try and squirm into a position that will get his prostate involved. He doesn’t beg for more. Because what gets him off, more than any of that, is being used. Tony ruts into him vigorously. “You know how often I used to jerk off?” he gasps. “Two or three times a day. Sometimes more. And now I’m going to fuck you that much instead. Bend you over and use this hole whenever I want.”
Stephen cries out, hips jerking, and Tony realizes that he’s come, that just hearing how Tony planned to use him had been enough to get Stephen off. And now Stephen is limp, post-orgasmic, and still completely at Tony’s disposal. If he wasn’t so desperately turned on, he’d keep Stephen like this all day. He’s so beautiful, draped over the couch, his hole stretched wide around Tony’s cock. But that’ll have to wait for another day; Tony is too close to the edge. Instead he picks up the pace, fucking his cock into Stephen over and over until finally his balls tighten and his climax tears through him and he finishes, drenching Stephen’s insides with his come.
After a long, breathless minute slumped over Stephen’s back, Tony slowly pulls out. A little of his come drips out of Stephen when he does. Shivering, Tony carefully helps the man straighten up. Stephen wobbles when he’s finally upright, like he’s weak in the knees. Tony reaches out and steadies him. “Thanks,” Stephen says. He looks down at his pants, still bunched around his ankles. He shakes his head sheepishly. “I’m not sure I can actually bend over.”
Tony chuckles and crouches, pulling up Stephen’s pants and even zipping and buttoning them for him. He gives Stephen’s ass a squeeze when he’s done. Stephen somehow manages to blush, but his words are shameless: “You will still have me when I’m sleeping, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Tony promises. His night time visits had always been about more than secrecy. “Breakfast?” he offers.
“Please,” Stephen says, and follows Tony back to the kitchen. He slides onto a stool even more gingerly than before. Tony admires the sight before pulling together the ingredients for pancake batter.
Breakfast should be enough recovery time. Then Tony will find out if Stephen sucks cock as naturally waking as he does sleeping.