John bit the sheets, trying to keep quiet. His arms ached from his struggles to get some leverage with them tied to the headboard. It was impossible. His legs shook as Jake forced them apart again, the burn in John’s thighs momentarily distracting from the one in his ass as the metal of the gun was pushed in and out of him again and again. Behind him Jake was making obscene whining noises.
“Oh god oh god,” Jake panted over and over again. He sounded like he was going to come just from watching. John knew he couldn’t be jerking off since both his hands were at work on John, one holding him open and the other on the weapon. Jake pushed it in deeper, until the handle hit John’s ass. His movements were clumsy, he was obviously too worked up to have any sort of fine motor control. The metal hit John’s prostate with no rhythm or regularity, driving him crazy.
“Please,” John begged as Jake accidentally hit it again. “Please, right there.”
“You sound so good,” Jake gasped, hand shaking on the gun’s grip as he tried to duplicate the move that made John keen. He finally found the right angle after several attempts and repeated it ruthlessly until John was yanking on the ropes, practically thrashing. John made a frustrated growl as his body jerked, trying to orgasm but being stopped by the leather wrapped tight around his cock.
“Let me go,” John said. “Please, let me go. I want to come.”
“No no no no no,” Jake said. “No, I like you like this. You look so good. God I’ve wanted this forever.”
John turned his face back into the bed to hide his expression. He knew Jake wasn’t talking about him, he knew he would be this excited to be doing it to anyone, but when he sounded like that John could pretend. Jake’s one hand finally dropped away from John’s ass and John could hear him jerking off behind him, voice breaking as he went back to his excited chanting.
“Jake,” John begged again, but Jake just ignored him, pumping the gun in and out faster, faster, faster. It was starting to hurt. “Jake, please.”
“No,” Jake said. “No, not yet, not yet.”
Jake let out a choked shout as he came, come splashing hot over John’s ass. He dropped the gun in his distraction, letting it thump to the bed between John’s spread legs.
“Now?” John asked. He sounded utterly pathetic and his eyes were tearing up. It was too much, Jake was going to kill him if he didn’t let him come soon.
“No,” Jake said, running his fingers around John‘s sore hole. John’s heart sank. “No I want to do it again first.”
Jake couldn’t believe it was finally actually happening. He had always thought about, had even done it to himself but it wasn’t the same. He couldn’t watch then, couldn’t see the dark metal surrounded by pink flesh. He was barely keeping it together and his first orgasm had barely helped.
He stared at John’s ass, unable to resist pushing two fingers back inside. John was shaking around him but he was so open. Jake bit his lip and pushed in a third. It was so hot in there and now John was yanking at the rope again. It had to hurt, Jake wouldn’t be surprised if John’s wrists were bleeding by this point but it was impossible to care when he was so turned on. He pulled out and tucked his pinky in tight with the others and pushed back in. John screeched. Jake pushed in all the way up to his knuckles, feeling John spasm around them. He wished he could get deeper.
“It hurts,” John moaned.
“Sorry, sorry,” Jake said, not really meaning it. He twisted his fingers experimentally, and that made John whimper. “Do you need more oil? I’ll get more oil.”
The bottle of gun oil was laying just a few feet away on the bed and Jake grabbed it, fumbling to get the cap off. He poured more on his fingers and dropped it, not caring that it was spilling and ruining the sheets. God, he loved that smell. It never failed to make him hard. His fingers slipped on the gun as he picked it up again, slicking up the barrel in preparation. It was important not to hurt John. If he hurt John, John wouldn’t let him do this again.
Jake whined in the back of his throat as he watched John stretch around the metal again. He shoved in as deep as he could and wished he had something longer, but his rifle was all the way across the room and leaving to get it was just not an option. John was panting, and his groans weren’t even words anymore. Jake reached between John’s legs to feel his cock, it was so hard and wet with precum and slipped so nicely through Jake’s oiled fingers. He tugged at the leather around the base, testing the tightness.
“No,” John whimpered. “Please, you have to let me come.”
God, he sounded so desperate, Jake couldn’t deny him. He tried to until the cord but his fingers just slipped over the knot. He threw the gun aside and tried with both hands but had no luck. John was screaming into the sheets and Jake grabbed his waist and tugged, forcing John onto his back. He dove down and went against the leather with his teeth, ripping it off. John bucked, and since he was down there anyway and John smelled so good Jake wrapped his lips around John’s cock. He barely got a good taste, all bitter from the oil, before John was coming in his mouth. Jake couldn’t swallow it, and he pulled back choking. The rest of the come splashed over his face. Jake fisted his own cock so hard it hurt, biting back his own screams as he came again.
Jake panted, feeling dizzy and exhausted. He was shook to awareness by John calling his name. Oh right, the rope. He didn’t even try with it, grabbing a knife from his bedside table and slashing where it connected to the headboard, safety away from John’s skin. John pulled his hands down, unwinding the rope. His wrists were red and scraped but there was no blood and Jake was relieved. Jake tossed the knife aside and clambered up to straddle John, pushing him back down and kissing him sloppily.
“Thank you,” Jake said. “That was- oh god, just thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” John said, sounding unsure. Jake kissed him again. Their teeth clicked together and it hurt but Jake kept trying until John finally pushed him away.
“What?” Jake asked. “Did I do something wrong?”
“I’m just tired,” John said. He was looking away and Jake was pretty sure he had fucked something up. Why was he so bad with people? “I need to go get cleaned up.”
“Sure,” Jake said. He rolled off John and let him climbed out of the bed. He was limping and Jake felt guilty. He sat on the bed and hoped John would come back soon. He resisted the urge to punch a pillow in frustration, burying his face in it instead. He wasn’t paying attention and was startled when a hand touched his back.
“Hey,” John said, he was holding out a washcloth. “It’s okay. Really.”
“Yeah.” John smiled and Jake figured things would probably alright.