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A Casual Experiment

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Karl glances up from his book for about the eighth time in ten minutes, heaving a sigh when Harry doesn't come through the door. It feels weird being in Harry's place -- well, their place -- without him. Which is strange because being alone's not something that's ever bothered Karl.

Another twenty minutes pass, the same paragraph read and reread and Karl tosses the book aside, standing to stretch and look out the window once again. He laughs as this weird image flashes through his mind. Not in a million fucking years. But why not?

It's Friday. A weekend. He's not on set til Monday.


Clothes set aside, Karl kneels in front of the door, eyes lowered, knees spread, hands clasped behind his back. He's so fucking hard he could cut glass and his balls actually ache with anticipation but somehow this feels right.

Harry fully expects Karl to be at the house -- he can't even call it his in good conscience any longer, Karl having moved in more each day -- and he's ready for a weekend of doing nothing, worn out with studio negotiations and the general annoyances of life.

"Karl, you here?" Harry shouts as he opens the door, nearly trips over his lover and stumbles back against the door's edge, staring at the floor where Karl's kneeling. Naked. "Uh, yeah, you are." He pushes the door shut, stays leaning against it. The view's nice and very unexpected. He smiles, probably much wider than he needs.

"How's my boy doing?"

The word still makes Karl cringe but hell, he is on his knees for Harry. "Good," he answers, tacking on 'sir' a second later. "And you?" He can't bring himself to look at Harry, not that he should, but he's not sure what Harry thinks of this, of him.

"I'm good. Long day, but it's looking much better." Harry stretches his foot, nudging Karl's knee with the well-worn leather of his loafer's toe. "You like it down there? Comfortable?"

"Not really," Karl says, opting for the truth. "Not used to it."

"You look good." Harry nudges his foot higher, shoe's seam sliding against the side of Karl's cock. "Damned good. What prompted it?"

Karl makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, closing his eyes as Harry's shoe moves along his cock. "Don't know," he murmurs, his face hot, body tense. "Just wanted to try it."

"I'm glad you did. Startled me a bit, but I like opening the door to this." Harry's not pulling back, just casually moving his foot as he talks. "What's going through your mind, Karl?"

"What do you mean? It's kind of obvious, isn't it?"

"Nothing's obvious, Karl, except that you're on your knees. What are you thinking?" Harry pulls away from the door, moves his foot back to the floor, walks around Karl, trailing his hand over a shoulder and up into the strands of hair. "You're my boy now? Is this permanent? Or just for the weekend? Do you really want it?" He tugs, pulling Karl's head up until he can stare down into his lover's eyes. "Or is this just to amuse me?"

Karl's not sure how to answer. He guesses he's been playing at things, thinking about Harry'd react, how much it might turn him on to find Karl on his knees waiting for him. And yeah, he'd thought about doing it for the weekend, a casual experiment. But then Harry's got his hand in his hair and he's looking at him like that and suddenly everything goes out the fucking window. "I don't know. It's not just to amuse you but it's not a done deal. I need to see how things go, see if I can do this."

"That's an honest answer. I really like those, boy." Harry tugs a bit more, leans down and kisses Karl hard, biting his lip before bruising his mouth.

Cock jerking violently, Karl groans into the kiss, already wanting more.

Harry's giving Karl more, pressing his tongue in, fucking Karl's mouth until he's gasping for breath, desperate to pull back. "You want more," he says, rasping out the words in harsh bites. "Cock shoved down your throat. Come all over your face. You don't get any release till tomorrow. Maybe."

"Is that a question?" Karl challenges, unable to resist. "You giving me choices?"

"You can state preferences. Don't guarantee I'll pay any attention." Harry's whispering the words against Karl's cheek. "You feel the need to set ground rules, boy? If not, I'm gonna be winging it."

Fucking hell. Karl almost whimpers, biting the sound back at the last second. "No, sir. No rules." He can't think straight enough to set them.

"No rules," Harry repeats, just to hear the words again. "So I can do anything I want. My boy, my whims. This could get interesting, Karl. I can be quite evil when I want."

"Well then stop bragging and do it," Karl says. Fuck. Why his filter works for some things and not for others...

For a moment, a split second, Harry considers backhanding Karl, leaving him alone and going off to find a beer. But he suspects that's what Karl's anticipating, all part of that lost boy syndrome, never been loved and taken at anything more than face value.

"Shut up, boy," Harry snaps, tightening his fingers into Karl's hair and tugging him to move as Harry moves on into the living room. He can crawl or be dragged, Harry figures, not really caring which Karl chooses.

Wincing as Harry grabs his hair, Karl half-crawls, half-stumbles along beside him, never quite making it to his feet. "Fuck," he chokes out, trying to pull back from Harry's hold, his hand at Harry's, struggling to loosen his fingers. "You don't need to drag me."

"You don't need to smart off." Harry lets go of Karl with a shove. He takes off his jacket and throws it aside, kicks off his shoes and pulls the shirt from his jeans before settling onto the sofa. "Let me know when you decide to stop that and I'll not drag."

Karl stares at the floor. Harry's right. Besides which, this was his fucking idea. "Sorry, sir," he murmurs, chewing at his bottom lip.

"Nice words, boy. You could put a little more contrite behind them and I might believe you." Harry's sprawling, working undone the buttons of his jeans. "C'mere and suck me. See if you do that right."

He was contrite, Karl thinks, but he doesn't say a word. He needs to learn to shut the fuck up if he's going to do this. Crawling to the sofa, he tucks his hands behind his back and drops his head, nudging his face against Harry's jeans, his mouth against his fly, the scent of Harry making his mind spin. It takes a while but he manages to get Harry's cock out, his lips around it, tongue flicking into the slit with a satisfied moan. So fucking good.

Harry's moaning, his own hand on his cock, working the foreskin back. "That's right." He quickly moves his other hand to Karl's head, tangles his fingers into the hair and jerks him forward. "C'mon, slut, suck harder, You can take it all."

He can and he does, relaxing his throat muscles and taking Harry all the way in. Letting Harry fuck his mouth, his throat, letting Harry do anything he wants and offering him everything.

He's in the mood, Karl's enthusiasm inspiring Harry to grip tighter, push harder, fuck Karl's throat with a vicious, unrelenting passion. Thrust in, barely pulling back, giving Karl no respite until he's coming. And even that's cruel, Harry's orgasm slamming into Karl's mouth, come dripping over Karl's lips when Harry jerks Karl's head back, smearing his cheeks and grinning at the sight.

Karl shudders as Harry jerks his head back, as he feels the come spatter his lips, chin, cheeks. Harry looks almost triumphant and there's something about the look that makes Karl want to change his mind, pull back, put an end to the weekend already, but he takes a deep breath and whispers, "Thank you, sir," unable to deny that he's harder than ever.

"Good boy," Harry mutters, brushing his hand through the edges of Karl's hair. "Now clean us up a bit."

"With what, sir?" Karl asks, hoping it's not a stupid question. He can't very well lick his own fucking face.

"Your tongue, fingers. Get creative, boy."

Christ. Karl uses his fingers to scrape the come from his skin and licks them clean, making sure he's done a decent job with his face before turning his attentions to Harry's cock. He's sure Harry'd be thrilled if he smeared come all over his jeans. Finally, he's done though and he sits back, remembering at the last second to put his hands behind his back. His eyes are already on the floor.

"Good boy." Harry's genuinely pleased, a bit bemused at Karl's immediate return to submissive posture. "I think it's going to be a great weekend."