Work Text:
II huffs and turns his key, unlocking their apartment. It’s a simple two-bedroom Vessel and him managed to rent out from scrounging up money from gigs squeezed in between their jobs. It’s decently sized, one with a full kitchen, a small living room, an ensuite, as well as a full bathroom. It’s the perfect size for them, the option of having guests over in the office space if they choose to do so as well. But let’s be honest, the only people who have used it were III and IV.
It was a rough day. Coming home to Vessel has been the only thing he’s been looking forward to since his first client. She was a younger woman wanting an elaborate sternum piece. Not thirty minutes in, she accused him of staring. “Just a man,” she said as she walked out after paying, no tip left behind. It was nine in the morning. Off to a great start already. Since then, his clients just got weirder and weirder, and the day dragged on. To make matters worse, his two other coworkers weren’t in shop, so he was alone, therefore, not able to accept walk-ins. Despite the bold, bright red “NO WALK-INS, BY APPOINTMENT ONLY” sign on the door, people still came while he was actively tattooing clients. Other incidents and irritations like these were the ones that made him wish he were still lying in bed from this morning, Vessel clung to his side. So yes, he was fucking exhausted.
He toes his shoes off in front of the door, placing them next to Vessel’s boots and hangs his jacket on the old coat hanger.
“I’m home,” II yells into the quiet house. There’s no answer. Vessel must have his headphones on, still working on their song from when he left this morning.
He tosses his things on the living room couch and walks to the kitchen to prepare dinner, grabbing a knife from the block and a cutting board. Except, where’s the cutting board? He places the knife down and looks in the sink which proudly displays the dirty cutting board at the bottom as well as a cup and a few plates. He opens the dishwasher. Everything from last night still sits clean on the racks. II sighs to himself and begins putting away dishes, not caring to minimize the racket it makes. This is twice in a row now that Vessel has not done the dishes, despite their agreement. Yesterday, he brushed it off as a simple mistake and never brought it up to him.
He cleans the cutting board and other dishes after emptying the dishwasher. When he’s done, he sets them on the drying rack and quickly starts up the rice maker. Letting it take its time, he walks over to Vessel’s office. It is sparsely decorated with a large futon, a cheap office chair, and a small desk at the farthest corner of the room. An old, wide bookshelf that reaches the ceiling resides on the right side of the room. II said they couldn’t keep it because of its sheer size, but Vessel stubbornly took it apart to fit in the door, much to II’s displeasure.
Vessel is hunched over at his computer in a dark hoodie when II pads into the room. He has his headphones on, one earpad off his ear, II’s drum recording muffled. He still should have heard II come in, no?
“Hey,” II greets, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Mm,” Vessel acknowledges simply, turning his head slightly to II, meeting his eyes for a brief second before he turns his attention back to the mixing app, the different sound effects and instrument sections forming a rainbow of color across the screen.
“I’m home.”
Vessel distractedly hums in response.
“How was your day today?”
He halfheartedly shrugs.
Okay, so it’s one of those days for him too. “Just letting you know that dinner will be ready in an hour. And tomorrow, love, could you do the dishes before I get home for me, please?”
Vessel stays silent, eyes glued to the software. II waits so he can give Vessel a minute to finish, waiting for a pause in his work. However, when he finishes the section, he immediately moves to a different one.
“Vess?”
II is a bit taken aback at his lack of response. Vessel has never been one to ignore anyone, let alone II. Why now?
“Love, please look at me.”
Once again, Vessel ignores him and continues clicking away at his mouse, moving and cutting various sounds from the song.
II’s jaw sets and he releases his hold from Vessel’s shoulder to stand to the side of the desk in his line of sight.
“Did I do something?” he grits out, trying his best not to let his shitty day bleed into the request. Instead, it lands flat, making it seem more like an accusation than what he intended it to be.
No answer.
“Vessel.”
He doesn’t even care all that much that the dishes weren’t done anymore. He is more locked onto the blatant disrespect.
“All I’m asking is that you empty the dishwasher so I can make dinner for us when I get home.”
He is answered with the muffled sound of the track replaying a segment.
II pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, leaning against the table. His eyes shut, forcing to calm himself.
“Look, I’ve had a shitty day today, and it looks like you have as well. If you could at least say something for me to know that you aren’t ignoring me, I would be happy,” he grits through his teeth.
Vessel finishes the section and hits save, a hard learned lesson after losing three hours of progress once. He unhurriedly takes his headphones off and turns his chair to face II, finally making solid eye contact. He folds his arms across his chest and stares up at him, blank faced.
No answer.
No fucking answer.
“Are you trying to piss me off?” II says, his voice raising a fraction.
Vessel continues looking up at him through his eyelashes from the swivel chair. II’s eyebrows furrow after the lack of answer and gives him a disbelieving look up and down at him. His eyes pause on the slight bulge at the front of Vessel’s pants.
He fucking is.
After a moment of surprise, II takes one step directly in front of him. “Oh, I see how it is.” His voice softens; smooth, dangerous. “You wanna play with me? Fine, we’ll play.” A slow pause, eyes locked onto Vessel’s. “If you don’t respond to me in five seconds, you’re going to wish you hadn’t ignored me.”
The intention is clear. It’s a chance to back out. For Vessel to decide if he still wants to go through with this.
However, it seems that Vessel isn’t going to take what’s offered, considering he hasn’t moved an inch from his chair.
II exhales through his nose. “Five.”
He takes another step forward, planting his feet on either side of Vessel’s. He places both hands on the plastic armrests of the chair and leans forward, caging Vessel in. “Four.”
II takes his time counting. Knowing Vessel, he enjoys the anticipation. His mouth is sealed shut, a slight lift to one side as their eyes stay locked onto each other’s.
“Three.”
“…”
“Two.”
II pauses, drawing out the moment as well as a last chance for Vessel to ditch.
“One.”
No response.
II slowly leans in, lips brushing his ear, “Hide. Don’t let me fucking find you.”
Vessel’s attitude changes at that. His smug look is wiped off his face, and he pulls away from II for a moment, pupils blown wide. Eyes like prey only now realizing that it’s being hunted.
Vessel swiftly rolls the chair back and jumps up from the seat, running out of the office, feet padding against the carpeted floor.
It’s almost exactly what Vessel hoped would happen. He just had not anticipated bringing a little hide-and-seek game into it. And yes, of course he feels bad about not doing the dishes twice, but he needed II pissed at him. Granted, it took a little convincing. The first time he forgot to do the dishes yesterday was an honest mistake, but ever since a frustrated text from II about his clients earlier today, he wanted II to have an outlet. The whole plan came to mind during a heated call II had the other day. Vessel didn’t even remember what it was for. It was just II’s voice, clipped and barely holding back anger echoing though his mind, and he quickly had to excuse himself to the bathroom. He listened, forehead pressed to the door and a hand wrapped around himself.
Vessel runs past the living room, quieting his footsteps, and into their bedroom. He silently opens the small closet, avoids rattling the large mirror hanging at the front, and closes it. He hides beneath the mess of hanging shirts and pants, clutching his knees, breath coming in quick bursts and heartbeat racing. He closes his eyes and calms his breathing. Heavy, but silent now. The front of his jeans strain, almost painful from this new sitting position.
He is so fucked.
He hears the faint sound of a door creaking farther open, it most likely being from his office. The last warning II is giving Vessel. After that, silence. The clothes surrounding him dampen any quieter noises.
His heartbeat calms after a few minutes pass in that dark enclosure. II’s voice on repeat.
Hide. Don’t let me fucking find you.
Blood suddenly rushes to his face with the prospect of what is happening. Here he is, sitting in a crowded closet, going mad with the pressure on his groin, while II is out there, taking his sweet time finding Vessel. He probably already knows where he is hiding, cruelly choosing to drag it out. He knows II’s games by now.
Of course, there is a nagging thought at the back of his mind that maybe it was smarter to not have done this. Maybe it was better to let him and II simply have a nice dinner and possibly a drink after, lazing on the couch watching their show as the evening passes and turns to night. They could be cuddled up in bed, overheating from their shared body heat, not one of them caring.
He couldn’t help himself when II texted, though. He wanted to test him. Push him over the edge. See how far he could go. It was a win-win situation, honestly. II relieves his anger, and Vessel gets to play out one of his fantasies.
Thump, thump, thump.
He is violently pulled from his thoughts as muffled footsteps enter the bedroom. He tenses as his heartbeat picks back up, hammering through his chest so hard he thinks he could hear it if he paid more attention. The footsteps get fainter as the sound of a drawer quietly opens and closes. A drawer? …Oh. Right. The soft thumping gradually gets clearer as II circles back near the closet. The bedsheet is lifted, a pause. It falls back with a quiet thud, and his steps continue louder until they halt in front of the closet door. Through the small opening in the fabric, he can see the space between the slats of the closet door darken.
Bright orange light from the sunset suddenly floods the closet as II wrenches the door open. He yanks Vessel by the front of his hoodie, causing him to fall face first onto the carpet between II’s feet.
“Found you.”
II grabs Vessel to sit upright, on his knees, and the sound of metal clinking through the otherwise silent room pierced Vessel’s ears.
“You chose to deliberately ignore and disobey me. These are the consequences,” II says calmly. II locks eyes with Vessel as he pulls the leather belt from his waist with a loud shhhk and folds it in half.
Vessel locks onto the belt, eyes widening and his face drops, shaking his head no. II’s voice softens as he rushes to say, “Hey, hey, I’m not using it to hit you, okay?”
Vessel eyes the belt for a moment and slowly nods in understanding.
“Do you need a minute?”
He shakes his head no.
Quickly getting back into character, II commands “Take your hoodie off and put your hands behind your back.” Vessel shakes off the fear and rushes to obey, following his demands as he yanks his hoodie off, tossing it somewhere beside him and putting his hands behind him.
“Good little slut.”
Vessel’s jaw drops and he almost brings his hands to II’s jeans in that moment, small incident quickly forgotten. Instead, he keeps his hands tucked obediently behind him.
II makes his way around Vessel and sits on his haunches behind him. He soon feels his lover’s calloused hands holding his wrists, the soft slide of the belt wrapping around his wrists, tying them together. II shoves two fingers in the loose space, testing the give.
Not too long ago, Vessel had asked II to use the deep red rope he found shoved towards the back of II’s extensive “collection.” Just a simple chest harness and his wrists, and since then, it’s been a treat for them. It’s the idea of handing his full trust to II and the lack of control that gets his body heated all over. They enjoy experimenting. Trying new things he never knew he would like. The belt isn’t what he would prefer, favoring the feel of the nylon rope, but it’s what they’ve got at the moment.
His head lolls forward and he relaxes, forcing the tension in his muscles to recede.
Once he is done, II whispers lowly in his ear from behind, “Are you ready to answer me or are you gonna continue being a stubborn little shit?”
Not ready to give up his act, Vessel, unsurprisingly, does not respond nor move from his hunched position. Besides, he feels like a ragdoll already, loose and comfortable. Why stop now?
At this, II reaches from behind Vessel to wrap his hand around his neck, pulling him upright, back against II’s chest, body between his thighs and facing the hanging mirror. He roughly grabs Vessel’s face with his free hand to turn towards the mirror. “Will I be the only one talking while you watch me fuck you? You think you can keep your mouth shut for that long?” He watches Vessel’s eyes begin to slip shut and feels his body sag into II’s. He slowly tightens his hand around his neck. “Answer me.”
Vessel, persistent as ever, weakly shakes his head no.
“No what, darling?”
He still shakes his head, refusing to provide II with what he wants.
“That’s not an answer.”
II watches closely, no negative signs from Vessel’s mouth nor body language that tell him to stop or slow. He gradually increases the pressure on his throat. Pressing in as tight as II is comfortable with, considering he’s got his whole world in his careful grasp. He brings his other hand up and teasingly drags it down the smooth planes of Vessel’s bare torso until it hovers over the large strain in his tight jeans.
When Vessel’s face begins to turn red, II releases his grip while simultaneously putting pressure on his trapped cock. Vessel lets out a punched-out moan and immediately gasps for air, folding over himself, pressing his forehead into the soft carpet.
II moves back in front of him and crouches over his almost pitiful form. If he weren’t doing this for Vessel, he would have reassured him, given him praise, tell him how good he’s being for him. This is Vessel’s fantasy, and he sure as hell going to fulfill it. He’s noticed. Noticed the near-silent moans and gasps coming from their bathroom when he walked past. Almost hung up on his coworker mid-sentence.
He lifts Vessel’s chin from the ground, forcing eye contact. “Fine. Don’t answer me. But if you are gonna be like this, I don’t want to hear a single fucking word or sound from you. You know what to do if it gets to be too much.” Vessel looks blankly at him, eyes blown.
“Nod if you understand me.”
He gives a slow nod in answer and resituates himself back upright.
At that, II stands and unzips his pants, leaving them around his hips. II grips the roots of Vessel’s hair and tugs him into his clothed cock. The man below him lets his cheek be smashed into the hard length but doesn’t move otherwise.
Vessel glares up at him; hands still bound securely behind his back.
“Open,” II commands.
He doesn’t. Even while on his knees, he still chooses to test II.
II’s jaw clicks and he tightens his grip on Vessel’s hair and shoves his head back. With his other hand, he grabs Vessel by the jaw and squeezes, forcing his mouth open and spits. Vessel’s eyes widen in shock for a fraction of a second, then flutter closed and swallows.
That’s new.
II swears if they weren’t in this role right now, he would have thrown him onto the bed and fucked the daylights out of him right then and there.
II brings Vessel’s face toward his cock again, and this time he eagerly mouths over the hard length, breathing in his scent. Vessel attempts to bring his hands up from behind his back to follow where his mouth leads, but the leather tightens into his wrists, cutting into his circulation. He reluctantly relaxes and slowly gets lost where II’s dark woody scent is most potent, soaking the cloth of his underwear.
As much as Vessel wants to continue this game he started, he feels himself losing his control over his own wants and II’s demands. His need to fulfill II’s pleasure.
“C’mon baby, you can do better than that, can’t you?” II’s voice condescendingly tempts above him.
Vessel drifts back to the sound of II’s voice cutting through the haze. Slowly, he catches II’s waistband between his teeth and drags the fabric down. II’s cock bounces from the release of its confines and Vessel sits back, looking up at the body towering over him. II opens his mouth to say something snarky, but before he can get a word out, Vessel leans in and runs the flat of his tongue to the underside of his length, drawing out a clipped inhale from above him.
Vessel teases the tip with a flick of his tongue, gathering a bead of precum and tasting its bitterness. He shuffles closer and coats his cock in saliva, all tongue and lips, dragging from root to tip. Vessel circles his tongue around the head and gently sucks, a content sigh from II’s lips. He glances behind II and sees himself staring back at himself in the mirror. Lips lewdly around II’s length, eyes half lidded. He doesn’t know what to think of it. Then again, he isn’t really thinking anymore.
At this point, the day was long gone behind II. All he can focus on right now is Vessel’s mouth working wonders around him. He lets his eyes slide shut and basks in his lover’s worship for a while before schooling a stern expression and silky voice once again.
He taps Vessel’s cheek condescendingly. “Hey.” Vessel traces a prominent vein up to just below the head and sucks. “Look at me.” He takes his time pulling off, spit slicked lips hanging open, and drags his pale eyes up to meet II’s. Gods, his eyes. II could get lost in them, but now really isn’t the time. He could admire them when they are both lying down, content and floating.
“You’re going to do what I say and take what I give you, understood?” Vessel lets a small whine out from the back of his throat and nods.
“Open.”
This time, Vessel obeys and opens his mouth wide for him, tongue sticking out. II grabs a fistful of his hair and slowly guides his mouth onto his cock. He lets Vessel adjust around him and cover his teeth for a moment before taking him deeper. Slowly, down to his throat.
“There you go. All the way in.” Vessel makes a choking sound around him and closes his eyes, tears gathering at the corners. “Breathe, love.”
II gives him another second, holding him steady by his hair. He hears Vessel breathe heavily through his nose and feels the back of his throat let him in. Tears fall onto the soft carpet below.
“You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well.”
II lets Vessel simply hold him in his mouth for a minute or two until his breathing regulates. His furrowed eyebrows eventually shift to something a little more peaceful, and his glassy eyes open a fraction, the thatch of dark hair beneath II’s navel greeting him.
Vessel blinks lazily and he releases the tension in his body, forgetting the need for anything more. His arms fall limp and his hands start to relax from the fists he had been making. His nails that dug into the bed of his palms now leave a dull sting. His body feels warm all over, as if the heat from II’s cock spread throughout his entire body.
His eyes glance to the side, catching himself in the mirror. He stares at his reflection. It doesn’t look remotely close to what he usually sees when he looks at himself. His face and chest are ruddy, eyes half open with tear tracks running down his cheeks, his own saliva steadily dripping onto the carpet and his thighs. But most of all, he looks content. Nothing besides II running through the mush of his mind.
Through the haze, he sees II’s hands gently combing through his hair, massaging his sensitive scalp at the nape. If he could choose, he would stay like this forever. II’s cock safely tucked in his mouth, him on his knees. Maybe during one of the business phone calls II has to make, a hand threading through his hair. Or while he sketches tattoo ideas on his tablet that may never see the light on anyone’s skin. Maybe II could time him, see how well he does.
He hums at the thought, a low rumble from his throat and swallows around II, adjusting his throat. Almost instantaneously, he feels a sharp pain on his scalp from the once gentle grip, and sees II’s head thrown back from the mirror, a jagged moan cutting loud through the bedroom.
Oops.
Vessel is pulled from the dreamlike state and watches in fascination as II’s chest rises and falls. He, ever so slowly, bobs his head slightly, feeling II’s cock kick in his mouth. II’s grip lessens but still brings the comforting pain he enjoys. It steadily guides his mouth, speed increasing as the seconds pass. Gradually, II gets Vessel into a steady rhythm, obscene sounds coming from where they meet. He hollows his cheeks for him, earning a low groan from II as he begins to thrust his hips into the wet heat, each movement hitting the back of his throat. He looks back to the mirror and watches as II fucks into his mouth, every inch of his cock disappearing and quickly reappearing.
“Fuck, you feel good.”
Vessel hums at that, his own cock throbbing, letting itself be known once again. II’s hips push in quicker and Vessel lets himself be used, thighs squeezing, begging for any pressure. It isn’t even close to what he needs. He gives up on keeping his cheeks hollowed and solely focuses on not choking through the increasing pace.
Just when he begins to drift again, he feels II’s foot press against his groin. Vessel gags around II, caught off guard. II keeps his foot on his dick, applying more delicious pressure. Vessel can’t stop himself from choking on every thrust to the back of his throat. Tears stream down their same path on his cheeks as the pressure becomes unbearable, burning heat gathering embarrassingly quickly beneath his abdomen.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Just before it becomes too much, II mercifully, yet cruelly takes his foot off him. II quickly pulls out of his mouth, all stimulation leaving him. He pants, chest heaving and body shaking. He needs more. Needs the feeling of II’s hands around him, his cock buried inside. His desperate release. Fuck being stubborn. He throws caution to the wind, abandoning his vow to be silent.
“Please,” he whines shakily.
II pauses, face instantly darkening. “What was that?”
Vessel hesitantly repeats himself, less sure. “…Please.”
II sighs and presses his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “What part of not wanting to hear a word from you don’t you understand?” he snarls.
Vessel shifts in nervousness where he kneels. “Please, I need you. I’ll be good! I’ll be good,” he pathetically says. II bends at the waist and Vessel’s body freezes in place as he holds his breath. II’s mouth hovers next to Vessel’s ear, warm breath dancing across it.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Vessel’s stomach flips, eyes widening, as II straightens back up. He watches with bated breath through the mirror as II walks back behind him, locking eyes through their reflection. He sits crisscross and pats his thigh, beckoning Vessel to sit in his lap, facing the mirror. Once situated, II reaches to Vessel’s front and silently unbuttons his pants, sliding them down along with his underwear. He accommodates II, bringing his legs together and bending when needed.
He gasps as the clothing drags across his length, the cool evening air not helping. II chucks his clothing somewhere behind them. Vessel sits with his back against II, long legs out in front of him. He moves his bound wrists higher up his back to let II’s dick press into his lower back, teasing him of what he desperately wants. The button and rough fabric of II’s pants dig into his ass, but he couldn’t care less.
“Spread your legs for me so you can watch yourself,” he huskily says.
He heeds and slides down to slouch, bending his legs and opening them so they can see his flushed cock and entrance on display.
II rakes his eyes up and down the length of his bare body. “Look at you. Such a beautiful whore for me, aren’t you?” II kisses along his right shoulder and arm, always keeping eye contact as he makes his way down Vessel’s side. His hand slowly glides across the top of his thighs, and Vessel gasps when they knead the soft, tender flesh of the inner section, dangerously close to where he needs it most.
II takes his time, covering his left side in light pecks as his hands continue mapping his right thigh. He lets him know that he is loved, cared for.
II slides his hand to what little is available of Vessel’s ass, squeezing the muscle, and sees him reach into his back pocket for the small bottle of lube from the drawer. The sound of the cap pops open as Vessel’s cheeks and upper chest dust with a deep blush. II squeezes the thick liquid onto his hand, coating his fingers. He sets the bottle aside and reaches in front of Vessel, lightly circling his entrance with his middle finger while his other hand glides across his chest, grazing his nipples.
Vessel softly moans at the sensation. He watches through the reflection as II’s finger teases, just barely pressing in at moments. It’s driving him mad. The constant denial for the past half hour, let alone the hours leading up to II coming home. He resisted touching himself as he imagined II’s voice on the edge of rage fucking him over his office desk or against the living room couch. He barely got any work done because of it.
He’s pulled away from his thoughts as he sees II’s finger slowly sinking into him.
“Mmm…” Vessel hums and his eyes drift shut, focusing in on II’s finger burying deeper inside, curling. II resumes pressing kissing along his shoulder, letting him get used to the intrusion. He leans his head back against II’s shoulder, sighing. When he relaxes himself, II presses another in. He gasps and clenches his fists, the slight stretch catching him off guard.
He feels II set a gentle but purposeful pace, just barely brushing against the spot that brings soft moans to his lips. When Vessel begins to squirm and grind down on his fingers, II begins fucking them into him, kisses turning into biting. Vessel whines, pitched high from the back of his throat. He cracks his lids half open, curious to see II’s fingers disappearing inside of him. However, he is more entranced in the way II’s darkened eyes rake the entirety of his body, shifting from his open mouth, the flexing of his strong arms draped around his neck, and his fingers penetrating him.
The sight of himself being slowly pulled apart by II brings a new heat to him he didn’t know he possessed. It brings a sense of confidence, something he thought he would be averse to. The idea of watching himself get off seemed uncomfortable in hindsight, but when it’s II pulling the strings, it’s much less intimidating. It makes it more gratifying to know that II is also enjoying the view of his pleasure.
Keeping his eyes trained on Vessel, II bites down on his already sensitive shoulder and pushes in a third finger. Pain mixed with pleasure shoots though his body as II presses once down on that spot deep inside him. He cries out, letting II’s name slip from his lips.
“Shit! II..!”
II tuts and shakes his head at Vessel. “This is the last warning you’re getting.”
Vessel clamps his eyes shut and bites his bottom lip, keeping in any stray sounds and waits as the sudden stretch to turn into something delicious.
II brushes that spot again with precision and Vessel’s neglected cock stands hard between his spread legs. Flushed at the tip, leaking. II’s other hand caresses his inner thigh, nails digging into the skin, but not giving the attention he needs, inches away.
“Are you ready for my cock now?” II says lowly, sending heat through Vessel’s body at the question.
Vessel nods enthusiastically, small whimpers falling from his mouth. He opens his eyes to the sight of II pulling his slick fingers out of him. He reaches for the lube and nudges Vessel just enough away so he can get to his trapped cock between them. He pops the lid open, squeezing more than he probably needs onto himself. He sets the bottle down and wraps his hand around himself, leisurely gliding up and down, coating his length. II teasingly taps the top of Vessel’s ass with it, driving him insane with desperation.
Vessel pouts, resisting the temptation of letting his hands drift down and take hold of II. His body hides the entirety of II’s lower half from sight, only allowing him to keep tense eye contact with II as he jerks himself off. He takes his time, ignoring Vessel’s frustrated whines. He is increasingly getting impatient and grinds his ass awkwardly on II’s cock, giving him little friction.
After II is satisfied with Vessel’s desperate display, Vessel eyes between himself through the reflection as he feels the tip prodding his entrance. II grabs his waist and pulls his back flush to his chest, resting his chin on his shoulder.
Vessel quietly whines, urging II on, but holds himself back from too much noise in the chance that II pulls off completely. He’s testing how much II will allow him before he gets lost in the pleasure.
As if II answers him, he carefully presses in. Always gentle in worry of bringing unwanted pain, no matter the scene they are in. Vessel’s eyebrows furrow, the stretch pleasant. II’s hand brushes his nipple, fingers pinching it.
“Mmm!” He can’t help the soft whines and moans that come from the back of his throat, his teeth biting his lip to prevent any more traitorous sounds.
II sinks farther into him, the head breaching his rim. Vessel shamelessly watches through his spread legs as II inches inside him, tightening his grip on II’s hair.
“Relax, love. You’re gonna snap my dick off with how tight you are,” II chuckles, gliding his hand to his other nipple, teasing it.
Vessel is too lost to find the humor in II’s words, simply willing his body to relax and let II in deeper, desperate for more. The sensation of his nipple being played with heightening the pleasure of the stretch below.
As Vessel eases up, II presses his inches into him, giving soft comforting pecks to his jaw. The sight of his cock disappears entirely into him, II’s hips now pressing against Vessel’s ass. They breathe heavily; Vessel’s mixed with tight-lipped moans and II’s with soft encouragement.
II, ever controlled, pauses and lets Vessel adjust to his size. Lets him breathe. Lets him enjoy the view of being stretched around II, hips flush against him. Giving his nipples idle attention while he waits.
Vessel nods to II once he is ready, giving his permission to move. II kisses his shoulder and gently pulls out, steady, shallow thrusts. He tips his head back against II’s shoulder and gazes up at the ceiling, gasping. II’s hands can’t seem to stay in one place as they roam his body, wrapping around his throat, then gripping his waist, his fingers teasingly brushing down the length of his body.
It’s torturous, forcing himself to relax around II in such an awkward position, hands still trapped behind himself, legs tense. No way he is going to stay in this position. He brings his legs up underneath him so that he sits more comfortably on II, as well as giving him a little more control. He settles his full weight on II and hears a low groan from behind.
Once he feels relaxed enough, he nods vigorously on II’s shoulder, pleading for permission to move.
“Go ahead, darling. Move for me.”
As if a light switch had been flicked on, Vessel bounces on II, immediately hitting deep inside him. He groans as II’s hand guide him up and down, gripping hard enough to leave pretty bruises in the shape of his fingers.
At one point, II holds him still by the waist and slams his hips upwards, leaving Vessel struggling to not cry out. Teeth replace lips on his shoulder. Vessel chokes out a barely suppressed whimper as he feels the teeth sink deep into his skin. Marking his body as his own.
II grips his chin and brings it down, forcing him to face the mirror after drifting off once again. II’s gaze locks onto his. He can’t focus on him, his eyes darting below himself, to II’s cock roughly fucking into him. He feels II shift slightly and sees stars. Vessel’s jaw slackens and his eyes threaten to close again. He feels light, overcome with bliss and can’t help the loud moan tearing from his lips.
He watches the moment II’s demeanor changes as he shoves his two clean fingers in Vessel’s mouth, silencing him.
“Did I not just tell you to be quiet?” he growls, mercilessly hitting that spot continually.
Tears flow down his cheeks again as Vessel can’t respond. The relentless stimulation from II inside him and his fingers pressed to the back of his throat begin to become too much. He nods through the tears as II continues pounding into him, vision blurry.
He can’t help it. He can’t help the broken, choked moans from around II’s fingers. Can’t close his mouth around them to muffle the sound. He started this, did he not?
His eyes roll back as he feels his legs give out and drop on II, involuntarily squeezing together as he gets closer to his climax. Cock left untouched.
II removes his hand from Vessel’s waist and feels him yank his legs open, but he fights his grip.
“Open your fucking legs,” II bites.
He can’t. He can’t.
Vessel cries as he feels himself weakly bouncing on II. He’s so close, just a little more and he’ll find the relief he’s been craving for hours.
II’s fingers leave his mouth, allowing him to openly moan through the pleasure. Just a little more.
Suddenly, he feels two strong hands grip his waist and swiftly pull him off II, dropping him down on the soft carpet beneath. II’s hands leave him completely.
No, no, no, no.
He doesn’t realize he’s babbling a mixture of pleas, no’s and II’s name. Vessel sobs as he blinks into the mirror reflecting a standing II, scornful look over his sharp features. He feels empty, a desperate need to be filled and brought to the edge. II grits his teeth.
“Calm yourself.”
He pales as II turns his back and walks to the other side of the room.
Vessel yanks at his restraints and wails, frantic for relief. He squeezes his legs together, but they don’t give him the stimulation he needs. Release ripped from him in an instant. He falls to his side and nuzzles into the carpet, tears and spit soaking it beneath him.
II disappears behind their bed and hears as he opens something from underneath the bed. Vessel breathes heavily, body and brain trying to catch up while II takes his time, clearly delaying.
He wills himself to come back from his high, forcing his taut muscles to relax and to focus on the sound behind him. II rummages through whatever he pulled out from beneath the bed. His breath begins to regulate and he blinks the tears from his eyes.
Not long, Vessel sees him stand and reappear with a black ball gag dangling from his grip. As he walks over, he grabs a half-filled glass of water off of the bedside table.
“Color, darling?” he says, lifting the gag up in question.
Vessel meets his eyes as he blearily responds, “Green.”
He watches as II pads over to him and sets the gag on the bed.
“Up,” II says as he gently hoists Vessel on his knees. He sways, brain muddied. “I want you to drink some water before we continue, okay?”
Vessel nods as he offers his opens mouth, just now feeling how dry his throat feels. II brings his fingers to his chin as he gently tilts Vessel’s head upward and brings the glass to his lips.
“You’ve been doing so well for me. You got carried away there at the end, didn’t you?”
Vessel minutely nods, causing a bit of water to trickle down his bare chest. II’s eye follows its path, down to where it disappears in the thick hair beneath his navel. He sees II’s throat bob as he looks back up and repositions the glass from where it started slipping. As much as he wants to tease him, he doesn’t trust his voice much right now.
Vessel finishes off the glass and II stands to set it back on the nightstand.
II saunters back and grabs the gag from the bed. He stands in front of him and taps Vessel’s chin, coaxing him to open.
He stares up at II, ignoring the insistent fingers. “Use me, II,” Vessel whispers.
II pauses and clenches his jaw, eyes unreadable.
A moment passes and II grabs a fistful of Vessel’s hair and yanks his head back, causing his jaw to fall open. He shoves the silicone gag between his lips and he inclines Vessel’s head, giving him access to the leather bridal’s buckle. He tightens it until it is snug, letting it rest just below the back of his head. The ball sits comfortably between his molars. Once II checks the tightness of it, he crosses his arms in front of him.
“Face the mirror,” he says coldly.
Oh, how Vessel wants to obey. II’s anger sends a new wave of heat through his body, straight down into his groin. Wants more of it. He doesn’t move, gladly choosing his fate.
“Face. The mirror.” II emphasizes, talking through his teeth.
He doesn’t, staring him down once again.
II bites the inside of his cheek. “Do you want me to bring your cane out? You know which one I’m talking about.”
Vessel blanches. Last time II used the thicker cane on him, he was left with pretty crisscrossing welts on his ass that prevented him from sitting for two days straight. He whines and violently shakes his head in protest.
“Then face the fucking mirror.”
A bit of his ego is shattered at how quickly he is to surrender, turning towards his reflection. His hair is a downright mess, and his face is blotchy from crying. His lips are stretched obscenely around the gag, drool already pooling at the seams.
II kneels behind him and unties his hands, throwing the belt beside him. Vessel wrings the tension out from his hands and obediently places them on his lap. II then applies pressure between his shoulder blades, gently pushing him to the ground. He catches himself with his forearms and arches his back temptingly, ass up in the air.
II finally pulls his shirt off, providing Vessel with the pleasant view of him, a walking piece of art as color climbs up his body. His entire body is decorated in beautiful pieces, geometrical patterns filling the gaps of the larger ones. Some have meaning, some purely for aesthetic, but sure do look sick as hell.
II knocks Vessel’s legs apart and grabs hold of himself, his length circling Vessel’s entrance.
“You’re not to look away while I fuck you, got that?”
Vessel hums in understanding.
“And don’t you ever fucking close your eyes.”
He hums again.
“Good boy.” II sinks in and gives no warning other than his hands gripping at his hips as he rams into Vessel.
“Mmmm!” He bites down on the gag and rocks forward with II’s movements. He watches as II quickly gets into a steady but brutal pace, the slight scratchiness of II’s jeans hitting his ass.
His eyes drift up from his own pleasured face and catches the glint of II’s necklace swaying in the dim light. It’s almost hypnotizing, the way it knocks against the center of his tattoo with each thrust. Farther up, II’s eyes are half-lidded in bliss, still locked on Vessel.
II groans lowly as Vessel’s face screws up in pleasure when II shifts, saliva now dripping from around the ball.
II’s thrusts change to be harder, impossibly deeper inside him, pelvis hitting the backs of Vessel’s thighs.
“There you go, stay there just like that and watch me use you, that’s it. Fuck, you feel so good around me.” II is babbling now, headiness loosening his filter as well as his moans.
Vessel can’t think. Doesn’t even register how his head is bowing and his eyes drift shut.
II brings his hand down harshly and slaps Vessel from behind, a yelp from said man. It leaves a pretty, red handprint on the pale skin of his ass. He then runs a hand from the bottom of Vessel’s neck to the crown and pulls. His eyes roll back as II slams into the spot that makes him see stars, head fully held up by II.
“Mmm! Mmmm!” It’s all he can do. Helplessly moan around the object in his mouth. If he could, Vessel would be screaming II’s name.
II groans as Vessel tightens around him, so close to climaxing with not a single touch to his cock.
“Fuck, can I take a picture? You look so pretty like this.”
Vessel nods, already accepting that he most likely won’t be granted the pleasure of release tonight, and feels II carefully pull out. He whines noisily, regretting his approval. II stretches behind him to grab at Vessel’s pants and hastily grabs his busted-up phone in his pockets.
II laments leaving his phone on the counter before confronting Vessel, but he would rather die than leave the room. Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but it feels like it.
Vessel feels II push back into him, satisfied muffled moans escaping from his throat and a sigh from behind.
“Hold still and look at the camera for me.”
Vessel heeds, a dazed and glassy look blanketing his face as II stills and snaps a few pictures. He arches his back a fraction more and slides his forearms forward, slowly bringing his cheek to rest on the ground.
“Holy shit, Vess. Stay like that, yes, you’re perfect.”
He stays there. The position is uncomfortable, his spine aching at the obscene position as his chest presses flat on the soaked carpet. Vessel moves his hips impatiently as II takes a few more photos.
“Fuck, I get it, I get it. Let me send these to myself before you delete them.”
He slides back in, out. Out the corner of his eye he sees his phone that, frankly, has been through too much, get poorly thrown on the bed and immediately fall to the floor. He’ll deal with that one later.
He whines, repositioning himself back onto his forearms as he slams his hips against II, earning a surprised moan from the man above him. II never said to stop, though.
Vessel drives himself back down on II, wiggling his hips when he gets to the base. He clutches the carpet as he angles his hips just the right way and desperately bounces. His head falls forward, forehead pressed into the carpet as he takes his pleasure.
A sharp clip to his ass has him lifting his head again.
Vessel looks back up at himself to find tears anew, face flushed drunkenly, muted moans pitched higher and higher. II’s mouth has fallen open and has joined Vessel’s sounds of pleasure.
II’s grip on his hips tighten, nails digging into the soft skin. II suddenly pulls out and Vessel simply accepts the loss. Though he doesn’t have to wait long until II is flipping him on his back, mirror forgotten.
II crawls over him and kisses the gag, a cruel tease.
There’s rustling below him as II fumbles to take his pants completely off. Vessel wraps his legs around II’s waist and pulls him in, making his cock rub against his hole.
II laughs. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, darling.” II grabs his legs and he easily surrenders. He positions Vessel how he wants him, legs up over one of his shoulders. The man below him has his eyes half open, jaw lax with saliva steadily dripping down his cheeks, red hue to his face, and hair creating a beautiful halo around him. He thanks Sleep for the man he has never deserved but graciously gets the pleasure of having.
“-mh!” Vessel feels II enter him again, thrusting as soon as he buries himself to the hilt. He’s been so close for so long, and it doesn’t help that II immediately starts slamming into his prostate, causing his eyes to roll back in his head. He shakily reaches for II as his back is pressed into the carpeting, blindly searching for some sort of grounding. II leans down and as soon as Vessel gets hold of him, his blunt nails drag a path down II’s back, leaving stark red trails.
His jaw is starting to get sore, the constant pleasure ripping through him causing him to bite at the gag.
He wants it off.
Vessel whines and through being jostled, taps the gag. Big, pleading eyes catch II’s lidded ones, begging.
“You have to earn it.”
Vessel gives an exasperated groan in between a moan and lets II have his way with him, exactly what he had wished for. II above him, fucking his frustrations out on him.
But he needs to taste. He wants to feel II’s flesh in his jaws, his addicting dark woody scent overwhelming his senses, like he’s stuffing one of II’s hoodies in his face as he jerks himself off to the thought of him.
He is sobbing at this point, feeling his impending climax quickly approaching, low in his stomach. Close, close, close. Like a coil, he’s curling in on himself, clawing mercilessly at II’s shoulders as he feels it beginning to rip through him. But he screams around the muffling gag as he suddenly feels II’s hand squeeze his base, immediately stopping his orgasm.
Fat tears roll down his cheeks as he balls his fists and weakly hits his cruel lover, all while II is shushing his pathetic whines and gently wraps his hands behind Vessel’s head, unbuckling the bridal.
“I know, I know. You did so well for me, I’m so proud of you.”
“You fucker!” Vessel cries weakly when the ball is removed from his sore jaw.
II sets it aside and pets his disheveled hair, kissing his tears away as Vessel continues to hit him, wailing. He waits patiently until Vessel’s tears die down and he slows his panting. The glares sent to a grinning II do not falter, however.
He checks over Vessel for any warning signs. He doesn’t find one, the only message being the rage of stealing his climaxes. Three of them, no less.
“Color?” He checks, just in case.
“Green, you asshole.”
II smiles, and ever so slowly, he begins to move and gently grabs Vessel below and strokes up and down, the sheer amount of precum plenty to aid the glide of his soft dick. Vessel whines through his frustration, praying that the overstimulation doesn’t last long. He prides himself on his short refractory period, unlike II, who cums once, and falls asleep almost immediately.
II slowly fucks into him, avoiding that sensitive spot, mercifully giving him a breather.
“Are you actually gonna let me cum tonight?” Vessel groans as an arm wipes the sweat off his beading forehead.
“Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll see how you behave.” II gives him a smile, one that would be called dangerous if it wasn’t said so sweetly.
“Please, just give it to me, II. I don’t think I can go any more after this.”
II simply gives him that same smile as he idly thrusts his hips and tugs more purposefully on his cock. Vessel winces as II angles his hips just right.
Vessel grabs II’s neck and drags him closer to him, slotting his lips with II’s, tongue quickly darting out and meeting II’s own. He feels himself becoming harder, II’s touches becoming more pleasurable by the minute.
“Bed,” he says in between gasping kisses. “Please.” The floor is hurting his back, and he doesn’t want II to pass out on top of him like this, given his history. Better now than when he’s close to finishing and they have to pause everything.
He feels arms quickly gather his tired body and lift him, but not without struggle. II is strong, but Vessel’s limbs are long and are currently limp like the dead. II gets a solid hold of Vessel, both hands cupping his ass, all while keeping their lips on each other. II suddenly sinks Vessel farther onto his cock and Vessel cries out in surprise.
II drops Vessel on the bed, scooting him up so that his head rests on II’s pillow, thrusting harshly immediately. Vessel’s moans are swallowed by II, the only other sounds being the bed creaking and the obscene skin-to-skin slapping. Vessel grabs anywhere he can get his hands on, seemingly remembering how much movement he missed while he was tied. Hands touch II’s shoulders, II’s hair, II’s back, II’s neck, II, II, II.
“II! Mm...mm...! Fuck!” He breathes in between kisses.
II’s hand jerking him off is almost too much alongside him hitting deep inside Vessel. His very nice fingers softly rub beneath the head, bringing tears to his eyes once again.
“Too much,” he gasps. “Too much!”
“I know you can do it, love. This is what you wanted, was it not? My hand on your cock? Pushing you over the edge so you can cum finally?” II pants as he aims for Vessel’s bruised prostate, jackrabbiting when he feels Vessel squeeze around him and his mouth falls open, head tipped farther into the pillow. No sounds come out of Vessel; he barely breathes as he teeters on the precipice. “God, you’re beautiful like this. Fuck, Vess, I’m close.”
He watches as Vessel’s tense body is frozen. Desperate mumbles of “more” are faintly heard. Sweat drips onto Vessel’s torso as II’s thrusts become deeper and harder for Vessel to keep up with. He hasn’t taken a breath yet, still tensed.
“Remember to breathe, darling”
And that’s when it happens. Vessel surges up, gasping for air and yanking II’s head down as he bites hard into his neck, violently trembling as his orgasm finally rips through him. II fucks him through it, Vessel’s muffled screaming echoing through the house.
“I’ve got you, love,” he says through panting breathes, dangerously close himself. Vessel’s teeth are still latched onto his neck, legs spasming and clamping onto II’s waist. Nails rake down his shoulder blades enough to draw blood. He doesn’t mind one bit.
When Vessel’s legs fall, his fingers slowly lose their enthusiasm to tear into something as he comes down from his high. His body loses its tension and his arms loosely drape around II’s neck as he continues to fuck into him, his hips stuttering as II takes his own pleasure. He’s moaning Vessel’s name, over and over again into said man’s neck.
“I love you so much.”
Vessel nods in response, having refused to let go of his lover’s neck. Even if his mouth wasn’t trying to take a chunk out of II, he wouldn’t have had the strength to respond anyway.
II’s hips stutter one final time as he buries himself inside and moans incoherent praise, fingers gripping Vessel’s waist, adding more finger-shapes bruises on top.
By the time II comes back to himself, Vessel lets go of his neck in favor of pushing II to the side and quickly plastering himself to his body. Small pecks get exchanged as II softens inside of him, exhaustion already at his heels.
“I love you too.”
A wobbly, yet bright smile greets II when he looks down at Vessel’s head buried in his neck. He kisses the crown of his head and gives Vessel his own wobbly smile. They share a few more moments of lazy touching until II sighs.
“I have to clean us up before I fall asleep with me still inside you.”
“Nooo… stay,” he pouts.
II laughs. “I don’t want to wake up all sticky like last time.” II pets his head and carefully pulls out as Vessel flinches. Vessel quickly squeezes his legs closed, wanting to keep everything inside.
A few minutes later, II comes back tired-eyed, a damp rag as well as ointment in his hands. He settles on the bedside and drags the warm cloth across Vessel’s chest and cleans where it had dribbled from between his thighs. A moment of soft silence passes between them.
“You looked beautiful when I kept you from cumming.”
Thanks, II. Way to ruin the moment. “That’s funny, because I remember being really fucking unimpressed with you.” He hides the way how raw his throat feels.
II chuckles as he tosses the dirty rag towards the laundry basket. “You did though.” He leans over and kisses Vessel’s forehead. “Thank you.”
Vessel huffs an embarrassed chuckle. “If anything, I should be thanking you. I just needed an excuse to make you mad.”
II shakes his head and simply responds “Either way.”
He grabs the ointment from beside him and unscrews the lid, motioning for Vessel’s arms. He lifts them and spreads a thin layer of cream over the rugburns on his elbows. II’s eyes drift to the small bright red teeth marks trailing down the sides of Vessel’s arms and a ball of pride swells in him. He eyes his wrists and two pink lines from where the belt dug into his skin. Then to his waist, where overlapping purple and red finger marks can be seen.
“Knees,” II requests. Vessel heeds and hisses when it seeps into his raw skin. II kisses down his calves in apology, caressing the backs of them as he makes his way down to his ankles.
“Does anything else hurt?”
He shakes his head. “Come lie in bed with me.” Vessel brings a hand up and tugs on II’s necklace, guiding him down beside him. II sets the ointment aside and slides back into bed, cradling Vessel in his arms and tucking his neck into his own. They both sigh, content. They feel Sleep slowly take hold of their minds and bodies, coaxing them to rest.
A moment passes.
“II?”
“Hm?”
“Can I warm you during one of your phone calls next time?”
II coughs and clears his throat. “Uh, yeah? Yeah. Mhm.”
-
The next morning, II wakes up to Vessel half on top of him and a pool of drool forming from under his mouth.
He needs to pee.
II lays there for a few blissful minutes, enjoying Vessel’s sleep-warmed body. He eventually groans and carefully shuffles himself out from under, guiding Vessel’s naked limbs back into a comfortable position. After he covers him with the duvet, he saunters over into the ensuite.
After he does his business, he splashes his face in cold water, attempting to rid the overpowering desire to go back to Sleep. He rubs his eyes and when he opens them, something catches his attention.
A bright, red and purple hickey, a bite mark ring around it, high up on his neck.
“How the fuck am I supposed to hide this?”