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Merry Christmas, Ian

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Hank waited on his knees, shifting his weight and dragging his palms down the fabric of his trousers. It never got any easier to kneel and wait. He was made for action, to be in a constant state of motion. For the most part Ian indulged him, but there were the times he simply made Hank wait, take the moment and settle in the silence.

Right now Hank chose to take this position as he waited for Ian to return in their shared quarters in this borrowed palace. He wasn't sure what reception he'd receive from his master once Ian saw what Hank had done to the room.

And funny how easy it was now to give Ian the title that Hank had fought against all those months ago. They'd been through much together. Ian had helped him claw his way back from the darkness he'd been trapped in after the poisoning attempt and Hank could never repay Ian for his patience.

"Henry?" Ian stopped just inside the room, blinking at the display.

Hank had finally got the hang of the Dumb Waiter and Harmony's technology. He'd exercised that little bit of knowledge into getting the old girl to make him strands of tiny lights, which he'd strung from the ceiling and around the little pine tree he'd 'borrowed' from the gardens. Together all the lights gave the room a soft glow, with the tree the ultimate show stopper in the center.

"Um, surprise?"

Ian grinned, coming over to catch his fingers in Hank's hair. Hank had to close his eyes at that. "What's the occasion?"

"It's an old Earth holiday." Hank had gotten the inspiration when he'd looked at his comm that morning. The thing was set to give the date on Earth no matter where he was, so to avoid contacting his aunt in the middle of her night. Today he'd noticed it was Christmas Eve. "They still celebrate it in some parts of the UP. It marks the birth of a founder of a religion…" Hank trailed off, he didn't really understand how they dealt with things like that here. As far as he could tell Harmony herself was the only god anyone worshipped.

"So you celebrate by stringing up lights and murdering trees?"

"Hey, the tree is still alive. For now." Probably wouldn't be when the water ran out. "And we give gifts."

"Ah." Ian's hand moved from Hank's hair, trailing down his jaw line. "We have something like that here. Gift Night. It is not for several more weeks yet."

"Well, remind me then so I can get you another present." Hank reached out and took Ian's other hand and used it to pull himself up.

"Why were you on your knees?"

Hank looked away. It seemed silly now. "In case you hated the lights."

Ian let out a frustrated breath. "Hank…"

"I want to be good."

"You are." Ian pressed their lips together, kissing Hank with gentle nips.

Hank swallowed. "I have issues, I know. But I'm getting better, right?"

"Every day you are more like yourself."

His cheeks heated at Ian's words. Ian wanted Hank just as he was, not the automaton the drugs had created. Now if only Hank could be sure he was back to normal, they'd be just fine. "Come on, don't you want your present?"

"I don't have anything for you."

Hank opened the drawer in the chest next to the bed. "You can make it up to me." He pulled out the square package and handed it over to his master, trying to ignore the trembling in his hands.

Ian took it and pulled the ribbon that held the brown paper to the box. Hank had decided against the brightly colored paper he was more familiar with. The gift was important, not the packaging inside. "Henry?" Ian pulled out the comm unit, sounding confused. "You didn't…"

Oh, Ian thought Hank had given up his own comm. "No, no, it's one for you. I had Hodge and Bell send one over." He took it from Ian and turned it around, showing the display. "I put myself on quick dial, so you can always get me. It'll also give you access to the standard UP libraries, so if you wanted to learn more about where I come from…"

Ian let his hand fall on Hank's shoulder. "I will treasure this gift, Henry."

"Stars, you don't have to get all…it's just a comm." Hank felt flustered. "You deserve more."

"Oh?" Ian took the comm out of Hank's hands and placed it carefully on one of the end tables. Then Hank had his undivided attention as he herded Hank towards the bed. "I think I have all I deserve."

Hank let himself bounce backward on the bed, desire coiling in his belly at Ian's low tone. He'd become trained to that voice, ready for whatever his master desired. "I'm yours," he said.

"I thought I had something else to unwrap." Ian undid the lacings on Hank's shirt, peeling it off him with sure, precise movements. Then he tugged at the nipple piercings, twisting the metal speared flesh.

Hank gasped and arched into the touch. He could never forget who owned him. Every movement always caught on one of the rings, making him hot with desire even at the most inappropriate of times.

"Tomorrow you'll wear your chain," Ian said, his breath ghosting over Hank's chest. "So I can pull whenever I want you. And I will want you often."

Hank groaned.

"Get on the bed, hands above your head." Ian remained standing as Hank obeyed, just watching as Hank moved into place, the restraints slithering out of the headboard to hold Hank just so. "So obedient."

"M'good at following orders," Hank said. One of the few things he was good at.

"And now you only have to listen to mine," Ian reminded him. He trailed a hand down Hank's chest, barely there. Hank knew better than to arch into it, catching his breath as Ian's hand made its way down Hank's hard cock. "What shall I do with you?"

"What ever you fucking want," Hank gasped. "Just hurry the fuck up!"

For a moment the fear grew in his chest, reflex now after his time under the sub drug. But it dissipated, and Ian's answering smirk had warmth growing in its place. "There you are, Henry."

Hank wished he could be as certain as Ian. It seemed he'd never be himself again, not when the drug had buried his own personality so deep under the uber sub persona. He'd been slowly emerging, like coming up from the deep end of a pool searching for the surface. "Don't make me wait, Ian."

"Trust me."

And Hank did. That was part of the problem. He gasped as Ian undid the lacings of his pants, pulling them down Hank's hips, leaving him naked and exposed on the bed while Ian remained dressed.

"Talk to me, Henry," Ian said. He climbed onto the bed, kneeling between Hank's feet. He trailed his fingers up along the arches, the touch too firm to be ticklish, then down along Hank's ankles.

"What do you want me to say?" Hank said.

"Whatever bursts into your mind." Ian leaned over, his breath warm against Hank's thighs. He pressed a kiss against the sensitive skin there.

All of a sudden Hank couldn't look at Ian any longer. He had to close his eyes and just let himself feel as Ian kissed his way around Hank's abdomen, leaving short bursts of sensation against his skin. Ian avoided Hank's dick, his weight just hovering over Hank's body as he continued to move upward, sucking at the sensitive skin of Hank's neck.

It felt so good, and when Ian reached down to tweak at his nipple the sharp bite of the pain went straight to his cock.

"Suck me," Hank pleaded, jerking his hips in an attempt to get some kind of contact. "Touch me, something."

"It'll be something," Ian promised. Hank caught the almond scent of Ian's hair as he continued to suck at Hank's throat. There would be marks around his collar.

Ian drew away and Hank felt cold at the loss. He missed the heat of Ian's body, the way it felt to be helpless under him. Letting out a little cry, Hank opened his eyes to meet Ian's serious looking gaze. Never breaking eye contact, Ian spread Hank's thighs, lifting his legs wide and up, until he could hook leather straps around Hank's knees to keep them like that.

"You're going to fucking drive me crazy," Hank muttered, "You know that? Why can't anything be simple?"

Ian let out a little laugh, but otherwise didn't respond. He trailed his fingers down Hank's too sensitive balls to tease at his hole. "Slick. Tight."

Hank had prepped himself this morning, like he did every morning as required. If Ian wanted to just bend him over in the conference room Hank had better be ready. Without a plug however, he wouldn't stay open, not when this much time had passed. It seemed Ian didn't mind, sliding his fingers inside and circling Hank's hole.

Hank tried not to squirm at the sensation. It was too much, being bound like this, having Ian prod at his sweet spot. His cock felt heavy, nearly painful against his belly. "Ian," he managed. "Might need a ring…" Hank didn't know if he could keep from coming for much longer, and he damn well knew he couldn't hold out till Ian gave permission.

"No, I don't think so." Ian twisted Hank's nuts, the pain taking the edge off of his arousal.
Then Ian didn't waste any more time getting inside him. Hank gasped at the fullness, at the slow slide as Ian filled him completely. He could get so deep like this, to the point where Hank felt like nothing existed but Ian fucking him.

Hank remembered what it was like under the drug: the frenetic pace, the way he could never get enough. Ian had tried to keep him pleased, to the point of hooking Hank up to a fucking machine. But the drug had been relentless, leaving Hank desperate for relief he could never have.

This was so much better. Hank could really feel Ian inside him, how he slid and caught on the ridge of muscle. Even though he was tied up, bound by Ian's will, Hank felt free. He could treasure this moment, capture it in his memory: the way the sweat mingled between their two bodies, the smell of salt and musk taking over everything, the soft lights behind Ian making him look more heavenly than alien.

"Do it," Hank gasped. "Fuck me, come on."

"Thought I was," Ian teased. His dark eyes speared Hank, leaving him unable to look away as he rolled his hips harder into Hank.

Hank couldn't hold back much longer. "Need to come," he gasped out, pulling on the restraints. It helped to focus on the resistance in his wrists and thighs. He could yank as hard as he wanted, but the bonds stayed tight.

"Come then, Henry." Ian all but growled his name. He flicked Hank's nipples, the shock of it sending Hank's orgasm pulsing through.

Hank cried out, unable to form words as pleasure overwhelmed him. He hung on until Ian came with a shout, pouring into Hank. Before Ian even pulled out he released the straps holding Hank to the bed.

It wasn't like he could move after that. Hank felt boneless and out of it, hovering in a state just above dozing. He leaned into Ian's touch as his master stroked his sopping hair.

"You always make me feel so good," Hank murmured.

"That is my gift to you," Ian said, his words vibrating against Hank's chest.

He knew they should move. They needed to clean up before they stuck together. But Hank could only sink into the warmth, further into Ian's embrace. He felt more than satisfied somehow, but he couldn't explain why.

"Merry Christmas, Ian," he whispered, snuggling closer as he edged towards sleep.

"And to you, Henry. My Henry."