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White Paper, Black Collar, Red Blood

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They are a couple, at least that's what Rose calls it, but they are only 19 and not at all in love and it makes them sound like they are 30.

Dave calls it as it is. Fuckbuddies. The jokes, the"irony" have become a defense against the memories of the game, and new world they're in.

John isn't sure what to call it at all. Jade reassures him it doesn't need a label- after all, she reasons to John, what is the point of putting that societal limit on what he and Dave have? Sure, they have sex as if everything around them is normal, but it's not. They are teens who barely survived a war- a death trap- and no one believes them but the others who were in the game and they cling to that. It's complicated, it's painful, it's comforting, but all John Egbert wants to do right now is figure out what a certain Dave Strider enjoys during fucking.

This is going to be hard, considering John’s not even entirely sure what he likes.
So John turns to Google, which leads to a lot of questionable sites, which leads into a lot of fantasies and John feels himself getting overwhelmed at the amount of fetishes and kinks that exist. But mostly he finds himself returning to the things he's experimented with on himself, feeling more confident about those because he has a better grasp on the rules.
He's nervous, because the words for what he's found he likes seem so harsh- bondage, knives, slavery.
But notion is interesting, complete and total control, pain, the ownership, and collars. Enough so that's he gotten himself off to it, the idea of owning someone so totally.

John isn't quite sure how to feel about this or how Dave will feel about this but he decides to bring it up on Saturday night as they're lying on the couch, John fully clothed and Dave in his boxers and shades, watching some crap show.

"Dave?"

"Hmm?" His shades have slid partway down his face and he looks at John over the top of them. It's a habit, not a seduction, but it flusters John enough to make him blurt out his next words.

"What are your kinks?"

Dave makes this funny sort of face, like he's confused and amused and aroused all at the same time."Why the sudden interest in this, Egbert? My amazing blowjob skills not enough to appease you now you want to unwind the inner secrets of my mind and-"

John cuts him off. If Dave went off on a tangent, John would never get back to the main subject at hand. "Just tell me. I'll tell you mine." A fair enough trade, but also a subtle command.

Dave grunts, a noncommittal sound, but even as he pushes himself up to sit up straighter on the couch, John can tell that Dave has caved. "Blades, I guess. Bondage. An' teasing."

John is gripped with excitement, most of which goes down. John glad Dave's not lying across his lap like they normally are.
"And pet or slave?" He sits up as well and stares straight into those shades, hoping to calm his nerves; even after months of practice on an invisible Dave, he knows he still might stutter.

Dave is startled by the directness of the question. Usually John saves it for the bedroom."Slave, pet's too docile for me. Can't tame a Strider."

John grins lopsidedly, something normally goofy but that now gives him a predatory look. "Good. You up for a little something?" John had bought things earlier, stashing them away with the compromise that even if Dave didn't like it John could still use it on himself.

Dave's mouth runs a little dry at the eagerness of John, and he's not entirely sure what he's about to get himself into, but his curiosity has always been a little bitch. "Sure. Throw whatever you got at me." Dave knows this is going to be different, that it's not gonna be him and John just sucking each other off.

The re-entrance of John into the room with a medium sized cardboard box cuts off Dave's train of thought, and spurs the male into action. Dave grabs the remote, flicking off the TV and kicking the empty chip bags out of the way, finding some consolation in the fact that the two of them have had much worse than chip breath before.

John sets the box down in front of the TV and takes stock of the pretty much clear floor space in front of him. "Alright. Come here and kneel." John gestures to the floor in front of him, hoping his tone of voice indicates that he clearly expects Dave to snap to.

Dave shivers in anticipation. They'd already established between them the fact that Dave loves orders, craves to be told exactly what to and when to do it. He slips off his shades, laying them on the TV and kneeling in front of John, facing him. The familiarity of the position calms the Strider's nerves.

"Good boy." John croons and reaches into the box. John's arranged everything neatly in there, wrapped up in white tissue paper and stacked in the order he hopes to use them. He pulls out the first package, tearing it open with ease.

Dave doesn't know what to do with his hands and so he's just kneeling there, hands hanging idiotically at his side as John unwraps a white package. Thankful for something else to put his attention on, he watches John's deft hand remove paper from something black. The reveal of simple black dog collar leaves Dave with the urge to jerk off right there.

John reaches down, sliding the collar around Dave's neck, the plastic sliding into place with a satisfying click. It fit well, the measurements not having been hard to get in the first place. He takes a step back, admiring how the simple silver circle reading nothing more than "John's" looks against Dave's pale skin and notices Dave's hands are restless. "Cross your wrists and put them in front of you."

Dave's senses are overwhelmed by the feel of the metal tag hanging down and cooling his skin where it touches, and he wishes he'd left his shades on so John can't see the widening of his eyes, but that's not how they play their game. Then John's talking again, giving another command and Dave is so distracted that he almost misses it. He moves his hands as instructed, crossing his wrists in front of him, and feels like everything is falling perfectly into place.

John wants to hear Dave say something,because so far the only reaction has been a widening of eyes. He continues on with the lines he's rehearsed,as Dave hasn't said the safeword yet. "Now now, what kind of slave doesn't thank his owner for the nice gifts he gives?" He thinks he's laying it on a little thick, but it pulls a strangled "Thank you, sir." out of Dave.

Dave wants to see what else John has, fueled by one part curiousness and one part arousal, so he dares to venture a question. "Anything else, Master?" When John nods and pulls out another white wrapped package, Dave thinks to himself at this point that he'd stay on his knees as long as John ordered to if he kept getting presents like this.