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It's been a couple of days since the scene with Carrie-Anne. Bill had consulted with Jason before he and Sean picked out a nice bracelet and sent it off to her with flowers. And now...Bill's a little unsure. There's a scene he wants to do--some roleplay--but he finds himself worried about what it will do to the strange and and delicate emotional equilibrium he and Sean have going.

Of course they'd have had to discuss the scene beforehand anyway, and so he calls Sean into the living room one afternoon. "There's a scene I want to do," he says once Sean's settled into position on the floor.

"Of course, Master," Sean says, looking up at Bill with a grin. He's not sure what Bill has in mind, but he can't imagine it'd be anything he'd object to. Things have been comfortable between them lately, and if Bill's wandered around the house looking like he's got something on his mind, Sean's been more than willing to file that under 'things we'll talk about when the need arises' and leave it at that.

Reaching down, Bill runs his fingers through Sean's hair. "God, I'm gonna miss this when you have to cut it off next week." He tugs a little before continuing. "I want to do something where I go off on you for being with Carrie-Anne, and I want it to be clear before we start that I'm not angry with you for the scene."

Jesus, could you sound more stiff?

Sean frowns and pulls back a little. "You -- I don't think I understand what you're after here, Master. You want to roleplay something where you're--" No, he said 'go off on you', not 'where I'm angry at you'. The idea's still knocked Sean's thoughts off-track, and he shakes his head. "Sorry. I don't follow."

"Every once in a while," Bill explains, "I like to play around with anger. It's a total minefield, but it hits my edgeplay kink." He rubs his other hand across his face. "I want to see what you'd do to get back into my good graces if I were furious at you for having a good time." He takes a deep breath. "Which, of course, I'm not. I actually really enjoyed the whole scene a hell of a lot and it was good to see you like that."

Sean's palms are sweating; he rubs them down the front of his thighs as he tries to sort out his thoughts on this. "I've seen you playing anger," he says softly, thinking back to more than one of Bill's on-screen roles, "and to be honest, it's arousing as hell. I don't think I can play guilt in a scene like that, though. I'm not feeling guilty over the scene with Carrie-Anne, and it'd cut close to home if I were to play it like that." Even as he's saying it, he's imagining different places he could go, how he could layer desperation over pleading and humiliation, and the idea doesn't seem as unthinkable as he might have expected.

"I'm not asking you to feel guilty," Bill says, and he wonders if bringing this up was a mistake. "I think this is closer to a situation where your master is being unreasonable and you're trying to do whatever you can to get back in his good graces." He sighs. "This is just one of those weird, half-baked ideas of mine and if you'd rather not, I'll understand."

"It's one hell of a tricky scene, I'll admit that much," Sean says. "That doesn't mean I have objections to doing it. I only..." He scratches his fingers through his hair and exhales hard. "I want it to end well. I don't want either of us getting so caught up in it that it doesn't end well."

"If it gets real," Bill says quickly. "If it gets serious, both of us can safeword out. This is the same as me getting the knives out; there's no penalty for calling a halt to it the moment it gets weird. And if it leaves us needing to talk, then I promise that we'll talk."

He leans down a little so he can look into Sean's eyes. "I'm not telling you that we're going to do this scene. I'm asking you if it's something you might find hot."

Green eyes meet blue, and Sean can see part of what this scene's about. It's about coming to terms with a brand-new feeling of possessiveness, and even if Bill couldn't put it in terms like that -- maybe wouldn't even if he could -- Sean can see it. And it shoots sparks straight down his spine; he's hard before he can get the answer out.

"Yes," he says. "Yes, I'd -- yes. Master."

"Thank you, Sean," Bill says, leaning forward to nuzzle Sean's cheek. He turns after a second and nips at Sean's neck right above the collar. "Go ahead and go back to whatever it was that you were doing before I called you in here."

* * *

A half hour later, Bill finds Sean going through a box of old paper work in the flat's office space. At the sight of Sean, looking so comfortable here in what Bill's come to think of as their place, he almost rethinks the scene they're about to have. But no, he's worked himself up to the point where he can do it, and somewhere in the back of his head he has the feeling that this is something they both need.

"Boy," he says coldly, "get over here."

Sean glances up and meets Bill's eyes. There's a huge difference between Bill in role and Bill when there's actually something wrong, so it isn't hard to figure out that it's showtime. He ducks his head down and drops the paperwork on the ground, getting on hands and knees and crawling to Bill. Once he gets there, he kisses the toe of Bill's shoe and puts his head on the floor.

"You want to tell me what that was about?" Bill asks, his voice tight. As always when he's doing a scene that requires his acting skills, he feels as if a part of himself is standing back and judging his performance. Right now, he's not sure he's doing all that well. "You want to tell me what the fuck you were thinking?"

Sean exhales hard. This is roleplay, but there's got to be some honesty to it, he thinks, or what's the point? "I wanted to be good, Master -- I wanted to look like the sort of slave who deserves a master like you."

"By crawling across the floor for a woman?" Bill glares at Sean, before crouching down to grab Sean's hair. "You sure it's not just that you're a fucking pussy hound?" Do Brits even use that phrase? he wonders as his fist tightens in Sean's hair.

The phrase may not be familiar, but the sentiment is. Thank God for Bill's hand in Sean's hair, though, because otherwise he'd have a hard time keeping a straight face at the over-the-top slang term. This is nothing like having his dom angry at him for real, and he's glad for the differences.

"Master, please -- if you hadn't been there, if you hadn't been watching, it never would have happened."

Pulling Sean up by the hair, Bill reaches out and slaps him hard across the face. "Don't you fucking lie to me," he snarls. "You probably didn't even fucking know I was in the goddamn room!"

"I knew, Master," Sean says quietly. He wonders if it's a bad thing that he's hard enough to be uncomfortable now; it's not like he's really getting off on the idea of Bill being this possessive, is it? Well... fuck it, yeah, I am. "I wanted it to be good for you, too."

"Oh, this is fucking stupid," Bill says, letting go of Sean's hair and sinking back to sit on the floor. "You know how you find yourself, when you're working, wondering what the hell your motivation is?" He shakes his head. "I can't for a minute believe that you'd ever do anything to get me that mad."

He rubs at the back of his neck. "Jesus, I'm sorry."

Sean shifts from kneeling to sitting immediately and gets his hands on Bill's shoulders. "All right. It's all right. I'm right here. And I believe you."

"I dunno what the fuck I was thinking," Bill says, leaning against Sean. He's more annoyed with himself than anything else, but it feels good to be close to Sean. "It was like I thought I should push at it, or some shit like that.

"You were gorgeous with her, and you were so damn good, too," he continues. "If I was at all possessive, it was because I was watching you and feeling proud that you're mine. Now if she'd fisted you like she wanted to..."

Sean chuckles. "That would have been different?" he asks. Being close to Bill feels just as good to him, and he gets his arms around Bill, holding on hard.

"I told her no," Bill admits. "It just came out of my mouth without me really thinking about it. I'm the only one who gets to have you that way." It's odd to come over all possessive while Sean's holding him like this, but Bill doesn't feel any real need to move.

"I like that," Sean murmurs. "I like knowing you want to have something that's just ours." It means more to him than that, but he's got no idea how to explain it to Bill. He could babble, or he could stay quiet and just sit here with Bill, holding on. He goes with the latter, figuring there's time enough for words later if they still need them.

"Yeah?" Bill asks. He pulls back a little to look at Sean. "It's a little weird for me lately, loving you this." To his surprise, he can feel his face heating up just a little. Oh, very fucking smooth, you fucking jerk.

"Get used to it," Sean half-growls, grinning his damned fool head off, and he leans in and kisses Bill hard.

Startled, Bill lets it happen for a moment before kissing Sean back, gripping Sean's arms tight. "Don't think I'm going to go easy on you, boy," he growls when they both finally pull back for air. "Don't think it for a fucking minute." Before Sean can answer, Bill leans back in and kisses him. He's not sure what he expected to happen after he admitted what was happening, but this is pretty damn good.

Sean's breathing hard by the time Bill lets him up for air again. "I never want you to go easy on me, Master," he says. "I can't imagine you ever doing it."

That makes Bill feel better and slides his hands up Sean's arms. "I need to hurt you right now," he says, sounding almost as desperate as he feels. That's all the warning Sean gets before Bill pinches the sensitive skin on the inside of Sean's bicep, twisting it hard.

"Yes," Sean groans, "hell, yes, Master." He gasps -- when Bill says he needs to hurt Sean, he always means it -- but he keeps his eyes open and hopes Bill can see just how much he wants to be here right now. There's nowhere else in the world he'd rather be.

Need is putting it lightly; Bill's not sure he's ever been this eager to hurt Sean. This is what I can give him, he thinks as he continues to pinch Sean's arm. No matter what else happens with us, I will always want to give him this. It's not the most romantic thing, but Bill knows that, sudden declarations of love aside, he's never going to be the most romantic guy.

As far as Sean's concerned, though, sitting in the middle of his office on an ordinary day getting hurt by his master is all the romance he needs. "Please, Master," he groans, and all he's thinking is Let me. Let me take this for you.

Giving Sean pain is good, and while Bill would really like to fuck him now, he figures he can keep doing this for a little while. Pulling back a little, he reaches out, slides his hand underneath Sean's shirt, and begins to twist one of Sean's nipple rings, tugging at it at the same time. Gotta get him a new pair of those.

"Get rid of the shirt," he growls.

Sean doesn't have to be told twice. He strips his faded navy t-shirt off, almost popping one of the seams in his haste to get it over his head. He's lost count of how many t-shirts have ended up ripped or ruined by the end of a good scene with Bill, but it looks like this one's going to survive.

Although it's complicated, Bill keeps playing with Sean's rings as the shirt comes off. "Jesus, you look good," he says. Sean's not ripped by any stretch of the imagination, but for all his working out, Bill's not fond of that look. Sean looks...well, he looks like Sean, fit and a little lean with fading bruises on his body from recent scenes.

"Thank you, Master," Sean murmurs. He's had his off-and-on moments of insecurity -- being left for a man half his age will do that -- but the fact that Bill makes it very clear that he likes the way Sean looks is something Sean appreciates.

Continuing to tug and twist at Sean's nipple rings, Bill leans forward to kiss him hard. He's not entirely sure why admitting something that both of them already knew makes such a difference, but he's so fucking hungry for Sean right now. Leaning forward, he keeps one hand busy with Sean's rings while he maneuvers Sean onto his back.

"Gonna fuck you so hard," he growls during a pause for breath.

"God, yes," Sean pants. "Master, please--" This is where he'd say use me, normally, but even he can tell that that's not what this moment is about. "Master, please, take me. Yours." He wonders if Bill knows just how much he means that; how it's more than the contract and the comfortable, happy relationship they've built over the last nine months. These days, when he says I'm yours he means it to the bone. "Yours, Master, please!"

"Mine," Bill says, reaching down to tug impatiently at Sean's sweat pants. "Fuck...get rid of these," he demands, moving backwards as he all but tears his own clothing off. Thank God we bareback, he thinks, as he gets rid of his jeans. Don't have to dig for supplies. That Sean will take him with no real prep is a given.

Seeing Bill like this is one hell of an incentive to get naked now. Sean can't stop grinning, and he sits up just long enough to jerk off his sweatpants and drop back to the floor again, spreading his legs. He probably looks obscene like this, and that thought just makes him grin harder.

Right now, Bill doesn't care that leaving his socks on makes him look like he's in the middle of a porno. He doesn't care that there are far more comfortable places in the house to have sex in. He doesn't even care that he's crawling across the floor to get at Sean; all he knows is that he wants Sean now.

"Get those legs up," he says, sliding his hands up Sean's calves. He doesn't wait for Sean to obey; he just reaches behind Sean's knees and pushes them up. It only takes a second to position himself before he shoves into Sean hard.


Sean yells out something desperate and incoherent -- God, Bill's tearing into him, tearing him apart, and it's so good he wonders if he's going to last through it. His knees are pressed to his chest, and he's bent so far he feels like he might just break, but none of that matters. Yours.

Bill knows it has to be hurting Sean--hell, Sean's tight enough that it's hurting Bill a little--and that's almost as good as knowing that Sean is his. Actually, it's part and parcel of Sean being his, being able to hurt him like this. "Mine," he growls as he keeps fucking Sean hard. "No one else's."

Sean tries to get Yours out in response, but the sound he makes isn't even close to a word. He tries to reach up, to get his hands on Bill's arms if nothing else, and he's more successful with that. The need to give himself to Bill runs just as deep as Bill's need to claim him right now, and that's just perfect.

No one else's, ever, Bill thinks, but he's past words now, all he has left is the need that drives him to slam into Sean over and over. He turns his head and there's Sean's knee right close. For a moment, he mouths at it until he finds a nice bit of soft skin at the fold which he bites down on hard enough to leave a mark.

Sean gasps, the sharpness of that pain cutting through him, and reaches up further to squeeze Bill's shoulder. "Master," he pants. "Yours."

Any thought of holding out until Sean comes is lost; Bill clamps down hard with his teeth and, groaning around Sean's skin, comes hard.

"Goddamn," he finally manages to pant as he sinks down on Sean. He takes another breath and then slides his hand between them and strokes Sean's cock roughly. "Come for me, boy."

It doesn't take more than that. Sean arches against Bill's touch, head falling back against the floor as he groans, coming so hard he could swear he's seeing stars.

Once Sean lies panting underneath him, Bill turns until they're side by side on the office floor. "Jesus," he says, reaching out to run his fingers across Sean's cheek. "I really fucking needed that."

"I can't blame you," Sean murmurs, turning his head so he can nuzzle Bill's fingers. "I did, too."

"About earlier," Bill says and then falls silent for a moment. "I...uh...I'm sorry it wasn't exactly romantic. I kind of suck at romance."

Sean drops his head so it's resting against Bill's shoulder and laughs softly. "I don't need romance," he says. "And if somebody had asked me, I'd have said I didn't need the words, either, because I knew. I knew already. But fuck that. It felt fucking fantastic hearing them." And he's grinning again, unable to help himself.

"I'm not sure I'm all that wild about being that obvious," Bill says, but he simply can't muster up the growl that should accompany the words. He sighs a little and nuzzles Sean's ear. "I was serious; I'm not going to go any easier on you." He pauses a moment and then bites lightly at Sean's earlobe. "Love you." It's easier this time; it feels right and even a little comfortable.

And really, there's only one thing Sean needs to say to that. "I love you, too."