Sean's not quite pacing, but he's close to it. The house is so clean it's shining, so there's nothing to tidy up; he's out of things to do other than wait for Bill's car to get here from the airport. He'd been tempted to go with the driver and pick Bill up himself, but since what he most wants to do when he first sees Bill is pounce the hell out of him, the airport didn't seem like the best choice.
He's dressed for a change; partly it's because it's the dead of winter and it's cold, partly because he'd rather open the door dressed in case of passing neighbors. But he's wearing an old faded blue t-shirt that would probably tear right off if Bill were in that sort of mood, and jeans that are wearing thin in places. Disposables. He's pretty sure it's not assuming too much, thinking Bill's looking forward to being home as much as Sean's looking forward to having him home. All the phone calls, talk of next year... for what seems like the thousandth time, Sean can't help thinking that they're a good fit. And I'm damn well going to enjoy every minute of it, he thinks, especially the minutes when the fucking car gets here and gives me my master back.
By the simple expedient of not sleeping the night before the flight and taking some melatonin, Bill had a nice long sleep on the plane, and while he's still a little groggy and tired, he's damn glad to be home. And this is home, in a way the various places he's lived around the world haven't been home. I'm going to have to break down and think about that, about Sean, he tells himself. But not tonight.
Tonight, he wants a shower, some decent food, and a nice long scene with his boy. And the great thing is that, aside from the shower, his boy is going to want the same thing. The thought has Bill smiling as the driver brings his things to the door and the smile turns into a grin when Sean appears, dressed in clothes that seem to say, "rip these off me, please."
"Welcome home, Master," Sean says softly. The driver sticks around just long enough to drop Bill's bags inside and ask if there's anything else they need, and then it's just the two of them, and Christ, even if he looks a little jet-lagged and groggy, Bill looks so damned good Sean can barely hold himself still.
"You look edgy," Bill says, stepping forward quickly. He grabs Sean's hair, still shaggy after Sharpe, and uses it to pull Sean close. "Tell me what you want, boy?" he growls and then makes the order close to impossible by leaning in and kissing Sean hard.
Sean just goes with the kiss, moaning into Bill's mouth. This, he's thinking, you, and when he's got enough air to breathe for half a second, he pants out "rough."
Rough sounds perfect to Bill and he keeps his hand knotted in Sean's hair as he pulls away. Running a hand down Sean's chest and then further down, he grinds the heel of his hand against Sean's erection. "You like it rough, don't you, boy? Like it all hot and hard."
"Yes-- fuck," Sean groans. It's all he can do to keep his hands at his sides; he can't remember the last time he wanted so badly to reach out and grab hold of Bill, to hold onto him as hard as he can. "Fucking missed you, Master."
"Missed you, too, boy," Bill growls. "Now come on. I want a shower and then I need to figure out what I'm going to do with my boy to bring the New Year in." Not bothering with the leash, he keeps his grip on Sean's hair, all but pushing him up the stairs and into the bedroom.
That grip still hurts, and Sean couldn't be happier about it. Something about this feels different, different from how things were in India, different from how they were before Bill got on the plane. Bill's home, and this really does feel like home to Sean. It's solid. It feels right.
Christ, don't let me fuck anything up, he thinks. But the thought doesn't last very long, because Bill's here, home, and thinking is the last thing Sean wants to do right now.
"I'm feeling decadent," Bill says when they get to the bathroom. He finally lets go of Sean's hair and grins a little. "Get me stripped and then yourself. I want you to get in with me and wash my back." Which translates to: I want to molest you in the shower.
Sean hears the translation loud and clear, and he's grinning as he strips Bill's jacket and shirt off. He kneels down to get rid of Bill's shoes and socks, reaches up so he can get Bill's belt unbuckled and his jeans unzipped, and fuck if the man doesn't look good enough to swallow whole. Sean's not going to lean forward and do it, of course, but the way his tongue flicks over his lower lip as he strips off his own clothes is probably enough to let Bill know exactly what he's thinking about. Jesus, you're getting pushy, he thinks, a thought that's countered instantly with and if he doesn't like it, he'll let you know, so fucking relax already. You don't have to wonder with him.
"My boy," Bill says over his shoulder as he turns on the shower, "is a greedy cocksucker, isn't he?" He sounds more pleased than annoyed, and he is; one of the best things about having a boy as eager as Sean is how easy it is to torture him in all the best ways.
"Yes, Master," Sean says. He sounds a little sheepish, but then he knew full well Bill was going to see through that flick of tongue over lips. "Your slave gets greedy for a hell of a lot with a master like you."
"Flattery," Bill says with a laugh, "will get a boy far. Now come wash my back and, just for you, I promise not to sing." He steps into the shower, glad that this one's more than big enough for two. I am so fucking spoiled.
"Have I ever complained about Master's singing?" Sean asks, chuckling a little himself. He gets into the shower after Bill, slicking his hair back and then reaching for the soap.
"Of course not," Bill replies, sighing happily as Sean's soap-slick hands move over his back. "That's been some other slave who sneaks into your place and makes veiled remarks about my singing. Probably the same one who sings about chip butties while he's cooking dinner."
"I'd like to meet this bloke," Sean says, thumbs pressing into the knots at the base of Bill's neck. "I think I might like him."
"Nnngh," Bill groans as he feels his muscles relaxing under Sean's hands. "I don't know...don't want you picking up any ideas about insubordination." He tilts his head back a little, enjoying the spray pounding down on his forehead.
"Wouldn't dream of it, Master," Sean says softly. He moves his hands to Bill's shoulders, enjoying the way Bill's muscles feel and the satisfaction of getting tension worked out from them. "We'd just exchange recipes... talk footie... trade tips on giving head."
"Jesus, if you were any better at giving head, my brains would melt," Bill says, bracing himself against the shower wall in an attempt not to fall. He goes silent then, letting Sean work the knots out of his back until he almost feels human again.
No more joking; now it's just a slave caring for his master, and Sean's glad to be doing it. He'd be doing much the same if they didn't have the contract, if it were just the two of them without the formal roles, but the roles are easy and natural -- and at times like this, when Sean's trying not to think about just how good it is to have Bill home, about the fact that it's not only because a slave without a master can feel a little bit directionless -- at times like this, the roles are comforting, too.
For a moment, Bill is tempted to just grab Sean and fuck him right here in the shower. Nothing complicated or even particularly D/s related, just a nice pounding shower fuck. But that, he thinks, wouldn't be fair to Sean, who's been so very good, both now and while Bill was gone. Plus it's not like it's some big hardship doing a scene with him, Bill thinks as he turns the shower off. Reaching out, he presses lightly at one of the livid bite marks on Sean's arm. Not at all.
"Mmm." Sean keeps his arm still, letting Bill touch him. He remembers the bite it took to make sure that bruise was still visible today, and having Bill touch it now feels like coming full circle. Getting to give himself to his master all over again.
Leaning in to kiss Sean hard, Bill pinches the bruise, twisting it as Sean cries out into his mouth. Remembering what Sean said on the phone on Christmas Eve, he twists harder, wanting to push Sean to the screaming point if he can.
The shower's still steaming, and Sean's feeling greedy as hell. He can't say what's better -- the kiss or the pain -- but he wants more of both, and he gives Bill a muffled yell as the twist goes deeper.
"Oh, fuck, yeah," Bill murmurs after finally breaking away from the kiss. He rests his forehead against Sean's and pinches the bruise again, pulling another yell out of Sean. "I could listen to you make noises like that forever," he says.
You're making it fucking tough to keep from getting sentimental, Sean thinks, and he gasps, trying to catch his breath. "I'm not going anywhere, Master," he says roughly. "Please... Master... hurt me?"
Bending his head down, Bill latches on to Sean's shoulder with his teeth and bites down hard, his hands gripping Sean's hips and holding him in place. He doesn't let up; even as Sean gets louder, Bill keeps biting until he can taste the metallic tang of blood on his tongue.
"Christ, yes -- Master--" Sean tries to keep himself still, but the shock of that bite has him needing support. He reaches out behind him for the shower wall, still trying to stay steady. And fucking try not to come on the spot, boy. Jesus Christ, he feels so good.
Pleased when Sean has to steady himself, Bill backs off. "Look at you, boy," he says with a smile. "Already close just from me hurting you." He slaps lightly at Sean's cock. "I have an idea, but it means I have to keep my hands off you for a little while. Let's get out of here and get dried off. I'll unpack and give you the things I picked up for you and then we'll see about hurting you."
Clamping down on the urge to beg, Sean nods at Bill and gets a towel for him. After Bill's dried off, Sean takes care of himself, and then it's time to get Bill's bags from the foyer; they were really in a hurry to get inside and upstairs, Sean realizes, grinning to himself.
By the time Sean's brought the bags upstairs, Bill's gotten what he needed out of the drawer of sex toys they keep upstairs. Grinning, he tosses a gates of hell to Sean. "Hope you've calmed down enough to wear that," he says, trying hard not to snicker.
Sean looks from the gates to his cock and winces a little; he hasn't calmed down at all. "I think I might need some lube to get it on, Master," he admits. He nods over at Bill's nightstand, where there's one medium-sized package and one smaller packaged wrapped up neatly in brown paper. "And I have something for you, too."
"Feel free to use all the lube you want," Bill says, still smirking a little. He digs through his bags and pulls out a couple of largish boxes wrapped in silver and red paper. "I got a few things for you as well," he says. "Get yourself situated and we'll go be cute and domestic downstairs by the tree."
Sean can't help chuckling just a little as he gets the lube and swipes just a little on the inside of the rings. He still holds his breath getting the gates on, but he manages it. They're a damned tight fit, holding him hard enough to be uncomfortable in all the right ways. He exhales softly afterwards; the longer they're on, the more they're going to hurt.
"Ready, Master," he says, and he flashes Bill a grin. He picks up Bill's gifts. His master's home, he's in cock bondage, and they're going to do the holiday gift exchange... it's domestic, all right, if about as far from traditional as it gets, and Sean's happier than he's been in a long time.
"I love Christmas," Bill says as he pulls his robe on. Moving over to Sean, he reaches down and toys with Sean's cock a little, as if testing the fit of the gates. "It's cool downstairs; you can put on your robe if you need to."
"That sounds nice," Sean says. "Thank you, Master." Their place doesn't have the draftiness problems many of Sean's homes have, but the thoughtfulness is appreciated for certain.
What's even more fun is getting to see Bill looking so excited about the holidays. Oddly enough, Sean wasn't expecting that, and seeing Bill sitting next to the fireplace with presents in hand is just bloody terrific. Even Fidget's impressed, or at least that's how Sean interprets it when she pads over to Bill and flops herself down in front of him, demanding pets.
"I didn't forget you, Your Majesty," Bill says, pulling small package out of his pocket. Opening it up, he pulls out a collar with a bell and several rabbit-fur catnip mice. He holds down a mouse in front of her and she growls a little and then pounces on it, rubbing her face against it before rolling on the floor. "This," Bill says, "is what people did before there was TV."
"That's not all they did," Sean murmurs, smirking as he looks at Bill. But before he can say anything more, Fidget bats a catnip mouse nearly into his lap, and Sean has to dodge an incoming cat. "That bell," he says, chuckling. "She's going to go mad when we put it on her." It makes him wonder, suddenly, what it would be like to be in human pet space with a bell of his own, and that thought catches him so off-guard he ends up a little flushed.
"And just what are you thinking, boy?" Bill asks, catching a familiar look on Sean's face. He reaches down, picks up one of the mice and throws it across the living room toward the dining room. Let's keep her away from Sean's lap. I want to hurt his cock, but that's a little extreme, even for me.
"I was just thinking about how long it's been since you've had a human pet to play with, Master," Sean says. "I wouldn't mind doing that again sometime, if you'd be interested."
"Oh, I'm more than interested," Bill says with a chuckle. "Of course, you do know that I can get one of these," he flicks the collar with a finger and listens to the bell tinkle, "in your size, don't you?"
That gets Sean smiling and blushing even more. "It probably won't drive me quite as batty as Fidget," he says, "but I'm sure it would be fun, Master."
"Well it'd drive me nuts, so you won't have to wear it all day," Bill says with a laugh. "This, however," he says, handing Sean one of the boxes. "You can wear this all day on April 3rd, providing you're not working."
Sean laughs as he gets the present unwrapped and finds a New York Mets t-shirt and cap. "Fuck it; I'd wear this to the set even if I were working." It's not the first time someone's tried to get him to show team loyalty --God, Carrie-Anne's been trying to convince him to follow the Giants for years -- but this time, he's got a feeling it's going somewhere. He is excited about the upcoming baseball season, at least on Bill's behalf, and there's nothing wrong with the Mets. "Thank you, Master."
A little relieved, Bill smiles. "We'll go to New York during a homestand this summer. You can meet my family and we can take in a few games." He hands Sean the other package. "And we'll stay at the Establishment hotel and you can wear this for me."
This time Sean's almost looking more at Bill than at the package as he gets it open; he's wondering just what that grin means and what Bill's got in mind. Six months is a long time to wait for a scene, so maybe it isn't just meant to be worn once...
...and when he gets it open, he's pretty sure it's not. His cock jerks, and he winces as the gates dig in all the harder for it. "Christ, Master," he says, stroking his hands over the leathers -- boy's leathers, leather jeans, harness complete with cock ring, boots. The kind of thing you wear to show off for your master, Sean thinks, looking up at Bill with what he knows is probably a stupid-looking grin on his face. "Thank you."
That grin makes the gift worth far more than the money Bill paid for it, and he grins back, reaching down to rest a hand lightly on Sean's throat and collar. "We've been rather insular, but I think we'll need to hit the bar at the club here soon. One of the good things about having a boy as good as you is getting to feel smug about it in public."
Sean squirms against Bill's hand, almost rubbing up. "I like it when you're smug," he murmurs. "I like it when you're smug over having me."
"I'd be crazy not to be," Bill says, putting a little pressure against Sean's throat. "I'm going to have to keep tight hold of your leash in public. Make everyone know that you're mine."
"Yours, Master," Sean says. His cock's throbbing now, the pain getting deeper, and -- as always -- he's a slut for it. Your slut. Master's slut. Christ, I love being here.
Bending down a little further, Bill toys with one of Sean's nipple rings, twisting it hard and watching Sean's face for his reaction. There's an honesty about Sean that's so fucking hot--when he's in headspace, there's no pretense, no coy bullshit about not liking it and not wanting more.
It's never occurred to Sean not to be honest about how he's feeling --his philosophy, such as it is, has always been don't pretend you don't like it -- they might stop. Every time Bill hurts him, Sean's grateful for it, and he's grateful more than anything for the fact that Bill likes hurting him. That Bill's honest with him about that.
We're a good fit, he thinks, straightening his posture and putting his hands behind his back. "Christ, yes, Master, thank you," he pants.
"Stay like that," Bill says, bending to give Sean a quick kiss. "There's something I need to get." He quickly makes his way into the basement dungeon and grabs several things, glad his robe has nice roomy pockets.
Whistling "White Christmas", he heads back upstairs. Sean's still in position, of course, and Bill wonders if he ever had a top push him hard just to see what it took him to fail. If he did, I'd like to get the guy in an alley and smack him around some, he thinks, settling down on the couch again.
Sean's moved only enough to get out of his robe and settle into position, knees spread apart, fingers laced together. He licks his lips as Bill comes back, trying to figure out what those lumps in Bill's pockets are. So damned greedy, he thinks. The man gets in off a seven-hour plane ride and you can't bloody wait to have him molesting you.
"Bend over so I can reach your ass," Bill says, pulling the large plug and the lube out of his pocket. This one's made of glass; it's slick and heavy, and there's no way Sean will be able to ignore it.
Once Sean's in position, Bill slicks him up rather quickly, not bothering to do much stretching. The plug'll do all that for me, he thinks as he slowly begins pushing it inside Sean.
It's heavy all right, and a little cold. Sean's eyes get wide as it goes in, and despite the fact that it's just a plug, it isn't long before he's breathing hard. It's not just the plug, it's the whole bloody thing. Fuck, he's so good to me.
Giving Sean a sharp slap on the ass, Bill leans back, grabbing a tissue to get the lube off his fingers. "Up, boy, and give me my presents," he says. "And don't you dare lose that plug."
Sean has to shift a little to keep the plug in. Between the plug and the gates, he's amazed he can move far enough to hand over Bill's gifts, but he does eventually grab the smaller box and crawl to Bill with it. "This one first, I think," he says, settling his ass back on his heels and exhaling very slowly.
To be honest, for all that Bill likes getting presents, watching Sean move so carefully is far more enjoyable. "You look good like that, boy," he says before turning his attention to the box. This time he knows what he's looking at, and he turns the antique watch key over in his hands.
"Thank you," he says quietly, reaching down to rest his hand on the side of Sean's face. "This is...this means something."
"I was hoping you'd like that," Sean says. It would be easy as hell to say something sentimental now, but he doesn't want that -- he just wants to hold steady, rub his cheek against Bill's palm, and take in the moment. It's one of those moments that comes about all too rarely, and he doesn't want to shatter it.
There are words that some people would expect right now, but the good thing about Sean--about the way their relationship is structured--is that Bill doesn't have to say them. That he can even think about it is more than enough for now, and his hand goes a little tight on Sean's jaw.
"So," he says after another moment has passed. "What's in the other box?"
Sean gives Bill a grin that borders on shy as he hands over the other package. He's got a feeling it's going to go over well, too, but he does wonder if he's pushing the "I'm going to be here for the foreseeable future" button a little too hard with it. Let's find out.
The copy of A Christmas Carol is nicely bound and Bill hefts it in his hands. "Do I get a reading next year?" he asks, smiling down at Sean. "Even if not," he adds before Sean can reply, "thank you. I don't have a copy of this and I should."
"Everyone ought to have a full run of Dickens," Sean says. "And yes, Master, next year I'll read it to you." He squirms. "Which will be more challenging if I've got a plug in, I ought to say."
"Would I do that to you?" Bill asks, doing his best to look innocent. Before Sean can answer, he leans down and kisses Sean lightly. "Thank you, Sean."
It's another moment Sean lets himself enjoy, without needing to make declarations or think too hard about why. God, I'm glad we've got each other, is about all he lets himself think, and that's plenty.
He can't help squirming a little more, though; he's in no danger of dropping that plug, but it's not the kind of thing he can forget about, not even for a few seconds.
Putting aside the book, Bill pulls a small hard leather flogger out of his pocket. "Get your back a little straighter," he says, brushing the stiff strands of leather over one of Sean's nipples. "I want to see you hurting."
Sean pulls himself further upright, cock jerking hard against the gates of hell as he corrects his posture. He grunts softly, but it doesn't make him move or wince. As always, he wants to be good for Bill -- wants that more than anything, and it's enough to make his posture as close to perfect as he can get it.
"Good boy," Bill murmurs, wanting, as always, to give Sean his due. "Such a very good boy." He brings the flogger down sharply on Sean's chest, watching eagerly as red lines appear.
It's always fun when Bill goes for something other than Sean's shoulders, ass and thighs -- not that he doesn't love taking a beating on any of those places, but his chest is more of a challenge. It takes more to hold still, and the pain's different. On top of that, he can see it coming, and that gives it a psychological rush that makes Sean struggle to keep his breathing even. "Thank you, Master," he growls.
Giving Sean a quick, hard grin, Bill continues the beating, alternating sides every two or three blows. He's careful, not letting the strands of the flogger go too low or too high, and making sure that Sean's nipples come in for their fair share of attention. "You're going to be feeling this for days," he says. "I'll be able to just tug a little on one of your rings and you'll go crazy."
"Fuck, yes, Master," Sean says, just barely resisting the urge to thrust his chest out for more. "Christ, so good..." He can imagine Bill turning him into a pleading mess later on, after this, and it's such a good mental image. "So glad you're home, Master."
"You sure about that?" Bill says, pausing. He reaches down and toys with one of Sean's rings, knowing already what Sean's answer will be.
"Jesus." Sean barely manages to ease his breath out, rather than letting it all out in a rush. "Of course I'm sure, Master." Always am with you, he thinks, but that's another one of those things to file away for later.
"You say that now," Bill teases, before standing up. "Up on your feet, boy; I need to reach something else now." But once Sean's on his feet, Bill suddenly needs to kiss him right now and he grabs Sean's collar and pulls him in for a hard biting kiss.
Sean kisses back, feeling hot all over. He could forget just about everything else in the world like this -- this means something, Bill said, and Sean knows exactly what it all means, everything it means without needing any words to define it. It's so good he wouldn't even know where to start.
Still kissing Sean hard, Bill runs his hand down Sean's chest, pausing to tweak a nipple. The resulting groan feels fantastic against his mouth and his hand moves down to stroke Sean's cock roughly. There's no doubt that it hurts right now; the gates are pressing hard against Sean's flesh and each pass of Bill's hand can only be making it worse.
"Gonna whip you there, boy," Bill murmurs against Sean's mouth after finally ending the kiss. "Gonna hurt you."
"Want that so much," Sean breathes. "Love hurting for you, Master." It's as close as he's going to get to saying it tonight, but he has a feeling it's enough.
"Love the way you hurt for me," Bill says, so softly that he's barely breathing the words. "Hold still," he growls, stepping back almost instantly. Gripping Sean's hip with one hand, he brings the flogger down on Sean's cock firmly, taking a deep breath as he watches the leather land. "God...."
"Fuck." The pain's deep, sharp, and Sean's eyes snap shut, but only for a second. He gets them open again and looks at Bill, wondering how the hell he got this lucky. "Thank you, Master."
"Slut," Bill says affectionately as he brings the whip down again and then again. He knows from experience that this hurts like a motherfucker, but then again, Sean loves that kind of pain. You make me want to push you, Bill thinks, watching as Sean struggles to remain in position. "Let me hear you, boy," he growls, although for some reason he's wondering how Sean would look taking pain like this if he were gagged.
Given what Bill's doing to him, fulfilling that order is easy -- Sean ends up shouting out with every blow, trying to keep his eyes open instead of letting them fall shut. It's taking one hell of a lot of self-control to keep from curling in on himself against the pain, to keep his posture steady, but imagining what this must look like to Bill is all the incentive he needs. His boy taking pain and loving it and staying in form while he does it -- Christ, I want to be good for him, need to be good for him...
His cock's gone way past aching now; the combination of gates and the whipping are enough that -- if Bill were anyone else, if Sean had any less incentive to stay upright -- he might have started begging for mercy by now. But there's a rush Sean gets from the pain, and a rush he gets from being good for his master, and both of them are pushing him to take more of this, take more and beg for it and be grateful. "God -- yes -- fuck -- Master -- please!"
"Jesus," Bill groans. "Tell me what you're begging for, boy." With some subs he might not be sure, but with Sean he's willing to bet that Sean wants more. And while Bill wants to give it to him, they're getting close to the point where Bill will need to stop before he does some actual damage. Not to mention that I really need to fuck him really soon.
The fact that Bill's getting off on this just adds to how much Sean wants to take for him. It's so good knowing that it isn't academic with Bill, that it's not just a matter of hurting Sean to prove he can take it and be obedient -- Bill wants to see him this way. "More, Master," Sean pants. "Please, Master, want to hurt for you, please!"
It would be easy to keep going, easy to let Sean's need and his own desire push them past the limits of what Sean's body can take, but Bill's own training won't let him go that far. "Five more," he says, looking down at Sean's cock. "Five hard ones and you will count."
"Five," Sean pants, "yes, Master, I can take five for you." Sean's so high on endorphins he thinks he could take fifty, take a hundred, take any goddamned thing Bill asks of him, but five sounds like a lot, too, and he's not going to argue or try to show off. Not with Bill. There's no need.
Bill doesn't hold back; to do so would be insulting and unfair to Sean. As each blow lands, he gets more than just Sean's counting; his boy is obviously in serious pain and is just as obviously loving it. "You sound good," he murmurs in between the third and fourth blow. "I love the way you sound when you're hurting for me."
Sean takes the opportunity to breathe out hard, nodding. Even just a breath's pause helps right now, when he knows how much the last two strokes are going to hurt. "Love hurting for you, Master," he says, licking his lips and steadying himself. "Please, Master -- please hurt me?" Two more strokes. You can do it for him. Christ, he's so fucking good at this!
Bill nods without saying anything and brings the whip down on Sean's cock again. He barely gives Sean time to get the count out before he lands the last blow, feeling it in his gut as Sean makes a sound somewhere between a scream and a grunt. "That's it, boy," Bill growls, pressing up against Sean. "You know what I want to hear."
"You know how to make me scream," Sean gets out between gasps, pressing himself as close to Bill as Bill will let him. "Thank you, Master."
"Nice manners, boy," Bill says, sliding a hand between them so he can stroke Sean's cock roughly. "But who says I'm done?" Before Sean can answer, Bill kisses him hard, swallowing Sean's pained noises as he plans his next move.
The lightest touch on Sean's cock would be agony now, let alone Bill's hand wrapped around it and not trying to be light or gentle at all. But it's the best kind of pain -- the kind that not only says I can take this for you but look what I've taken for you so far -- and above and beyond Sean's urge to please his master, there's the fact that pain itself gets him off, and nobody's been willing to push that the way Bill does.
He gets his hands behind his back again and pants for breath between those kisses. Not done yet. Christ, no, he doesn't want Bill to be done yet. Not at all.
"I want your mouth somewhere else, boy," Bill growls when he can finally pulls himself away from the kissing. "I've waited long enough for this." Not willing to wait for Sean to get down on his knees by himself, Bill grabs Sean's collar and all but drags him down.
Sean may not need the hint, but the direction feels good anyway -- there's nothing like Bill digging in and taking over. And when Sean's on his knees, he's got Bill's cock right at mouth level -- he nuzzles between the folds of Bill's robe and takes one quick lap at the head before swallowing it down and sucking hard.
Pleased that Sean's gotten so good at judging his mood, Bill grabs Sean's hair and pushes into Sean's mouth hard. No foreplay required; he's wanted this, wanted Sean, ever since he arrived in New York and realized that it was going to be a week before he saw Sean again. "Mine," he says as he fucks Sean's mouth. "Mine."
God. Sean's cock aches more than ever, and now it's all he can do to keep himself upright, keep pressing forward so he can take in more with every thrust. He's missed Bill -- really missed him, not just missed having a master around or getting to serve -- but right now, serving's about the best thing he can imagine.
It doesn't take much; Bill's wanted to come ever since he first opened the door and saw Sean, and now he pulls back once to let Sean get a little air. Dragging Sean's head back into position, he thrusts into Sean's mouth one more time and then comes hard enough that he staggers a little before locking his knees.
If Sean could groan, he'd be doing it now. Swallowing around Bill's cock is challenge enough, and he just knows he's going to be smirking once Bill lets him loose. It feels so good knowing he can give Bill that kind of pleasure -- knowing that Bill can take it from him.
"Fuck, I needed that," Bill says with a happy sigh. He loosens his grip on Sean's hair, petting it more than pulling it. "I could go without any of my other vices, but not without this." Again, he wants to say something, explain that "this" encompasses so much more than just how they are, but the words aren't there. Or maybe I just don't know how to say them.
"C'mere," he says instead, sinking back onto the sofa. "Sit with me a while."
Sean climbs up onto the sofa and takes a seat next to Bill, leaving his legs spread apart slightly. From the look on Bill's face, he's happy -- and it's more than just the way he looks after a blowjob, even one that comes after being apart for a week.
I can't imagine wanting to be anywhere but here, Sean thinks, but he doesn't need to say it. He's got a feeling Bill's thoughts are moving along the same paths his are.
Around 11 or so, Bill stretches a little and looks down at Sean, who's dozing curled up on the floor with a throw tossed over him. "Not a night owl," Bill says with a little laugh, although he knows the only reason he's awake now is that he'd napped on the couch after dinner.
In fact, Bill had only woken up around 10:30, his sleep schedule all fucked up thanks to jet lag. He'd thought about taking Sean then, but for some reason, the idea of making this last until midnight had become too important to him and so he'd simply covered Sean with a blanket and picked up the book Sean had given him.
After reading for a little while, however, Bill had realized that he was watching Sean more than reading and he'd put the book aside, choosing to think about the upcoming year. Most of those thoughts centered on Sean and how much he's come to depend on the idea that Sean will be with him for the whole year, barring their schedules. While he's used to the idea of having a boy around, he's not as used to the idea that who the boy is is as important--maybe even more important--as just having one.
It's not something he tells most people, because even in a community of people who say they don't mind being objectified, Bill knows the way he feels about his boys is a little out there. But now it hits him like of a ton of bricks. Sean will be here next year; they'll spend another round of holidays together, and then...that summer, Sean will leave.
"I don't want the contract to ever end," Bill says very softly, knowing his words can't be heard by Sean, who's snoring just a little. "I don't want you to leave."
It's a frightening thought, and Bill frowns a little. Don't think about it now; you have a year and a half and things could change, he tells himself firmly. Resolved to put it out of his mind, he prods Sean lightly with one bare foot. "Wake up, boy."
Like any evening, Sean can wake up if he's being told to, but it's not a quick process. He blinks a few times and pushes himself up on his elbows, grinning up at Bill. "Master--" he starts, but he ends up yawning halfway through it and rubbing at his cheek with the back of his hand. Let's try that again, he thinks. "Master," he says softly. "What time is it?"
"A little after eleven," Bill says, leaning down to slide his fingers through Sean's hair. "How're you doing?" He tightens his fingers in Sean's hair, wondering if whatever is going on in his own head will make him more inclined to take it easy on Sean.
"I'm fine, Master." Sean licks his lips. "Should wake up in a bit--I'm glad I didn't sleep through midnight." He'd sit up, but the grip Bill's got on him prevents it for the moment.
"I wouldn't have let you," Bill says, tugging Sean's head up. He leans down at the same time and whispers in Sean's ear. "I don't give a damn about fireworks, but I want to hear my boy scream at midnight." Turning his head, he bites at Sean's neck.
Sean groans. "Christ, Master, your boy wants to scream for you, too." It's not like he'd have a hard time doing it, either; between Bill's ability to get damn near everything he wants out of Sean--and the fact that Sean's still in gates and hasn't come yet--just about everything's likely to make Sean want to scream.
"That's my boy," Bill murmurs against Sean's skin. "That's what I want to hear from you." And it's true; no matter what else he wants from Sean, Sean's still Bill's boy and that's not going to change. Reaching down, Bill tugs hard on one of Sean's nipple rings.
"Fuck, yes," Sean moans. "Master, yes, please--more, please?" He nuzzles against Bill as best he can and licks his lips again, so damn happy to be here he can't stop grinning.
"So fucking needy," Bill says, twisting the nipple ring again. "My boy's such a greedy bitch." He bites hard at Sean's neck, wanting to see another bruise on Sean, and it occurs to him that Sean isn't the only greedy one in this relationship.
Sean gives up on talking and just gives Bill sounds--his moans, his groans, a yelp when Bill bites hard enough to jerk one out of him. This is one of those times when it feels like Bill can't get enough, and God, those are always fun.
Hurting Sean is so fucking good that Bill almost forgets that he had an actual plan. "Fuck," he groans against Sean's neck, "but you're so easy to hurt." He bites up another mark before pulling back a little. "Champagne," he says with a grin, "this is thirsty work."
"Yes, Master." Sean's panting now, but as eager as he is to have Bill's mouth and hands and teeth on him, he's also eager to obey orders. He grins as he gets on hands and knees and starts the crawl towards the kitchen.
Bill grins as he watches Sean crawl. I need to do something about his ass, now that I've hurt the front of him. Looking down at his hand, Bill nods a little and settles back onto the sofa. In the state he's in, even a spanking will be painful enough.
Once Sean's returned with the champagne and they've both had a couple of sips, Bill leans back and pats his lap. "I want to see some color on your ass, boy."
Sean climbs up immediately, looking back over his shoulder as he settles down. "Master's not trying to kill his slave, is he?" he asks with a grin.
"Not long term, no," Bill says as he strokes Sean's ass. "It's your fault, really; you have such a good ass for this sort of thing." He bends down and brushes his lips across one cheek before biting down hard.
That's not what Sean was expecting, and he yelps before settling down again. "Will Master forgive me if I don't apologize for that?" he asks, sounding and feeling more than a little breathless. This has been one hell of a night, the best New Year's he can remember in a long time--he's going to have to think of a way to thank Bill for that, later.
"Of course," Bill says, raising his head a little. "If I want you to be quiet, I'll tell you or gag you." He bends back down and bites Sean's ass again, sucking up another bruise next to the first one.
That's not quite what Sean meant--he'd been thinking about not apologizing for having a great ass for biting--but it occurs to him that Bill's got every reason in the world to think Sean might've meant the yelp itself, and this is just one more way it's becoming obvious that Sean's not the man he was when they first met. He's happier and more confident and he fits right in here, and he's determined to give Bill the best of everything he's got. He squirms on Bill's lap and moans, cock aching, whole body feeling better than it's felt since Bill left London.
"Jesus, but you're almost as greedy for this as I am," Bill murmurs, blowing lightly at Sean's skin. He glances at his watch, and relaxes a little--he's got plenty of time. Sitting back up, he pets Sean's ass for a moment before drawing his arm back and landing the first, hard, spank.
"Fuck, thank you, Master," Sean says. He has to force himself not to squirm, because Bill's right on the money: Sean's greedy for all of this, and a bare-handed spanking to bring in the New Year is perfect.
As much as he loves toys that will cause a lot more pain than his bare hand, Bill does love the feel of a bare-handed spanking. There's something intimate and close about it, and in a situation like this, he knows that he's causing Sean enough discomfort. That's good too, knowing that Sean likes the spanking and that his enjoyment of it is causing the gates to be that much more painful.
There was a time Sean thought he'd get used to the way it feels having gates bite into him; sooner or later he'd reach a saturation point and he could just ignore them. With Bill, that couldn't be further from the truth. Between how damned good Bill is at giving pain and how much it turns Sean on knowing that he's pleasing Bill, just breathing makes the gates seem tighter, and it's all he can do to hold on and show Bill--through moans and yelps and the way he grits his teeth as he bites out screams--how much he wants this. All of this, he thinks, "Christ, Master, yes, please!"
Finally, with his hand stinging hard, Bill stops. Sean's ass is bright red with the bite marks showing and to Bill's eyes, it looks perfect. "Good boy," he says, running his hand lightly over the hot, red skin. "Such a good slave."
Sean lets out a long, soft moan. Hearing those words from Bill, right now--he couldn't ask for more than that. He's never had to be anyone but himself with Bill, and it turns out that's more than good enough.
"Yours," he pants. "Promise."
Bill's finding that he likes Sean's emotional declarations more than he expected and he smiles a little since Sean can't see him. "Mine," he agrees, pulling the plug out of Sean's ass. "And I want to fuck you, right here, right now. Up, and straddle my lap, boy."
Instinct takes over--and it's a good thing, too, because otherwise Sean could get very clumsy at a moment like this--and he's up and straddling Bill's thighs in what seems like the blink of an eye. He braces himself on Bill's shoulders to keep his balance and holds himself just above cock level, locking eyes with Bill.
He wants to say Thank you, Master, but that's not the emotion he's feeling right now--not exactly gratitude, no--so he swallows the words. Instead, he ends up saying, "Please," which is almost never the wrong thing to say. And desperation? That's definitely part of how he's feeling. "Please, Master!"
Knowing that he's got a little time, Bill grins up at Sean. "Just what are you begging for?" he asks. Not that it really matters, of course, but he likes to hear Sean begging.
"Please fuck me, Master!" Sean says, swallowing hard. He looks down at his cock--dripping and sticky with precum, not at all surprising--and back up at Bill. "Please, Master, please fuck your slave, please..."
"Slowly," Bill says, tugging lightly on Sean's hip in a gesture meant to guide Sean into position. "I want to watch you feeling every inch," he added, keeping his gaze on Sean's face. "You look so good when you're getting fucked. So damn good."
Sean's panting, just trying to keep his breathing steady while Bill lowers him down. His eyes want to close so he can savor this feeling, but he knows Bill wants to watch him--wants to see what he's feeling, inch after inch--and so he struggles to keep them open.
It's an easy glide, between how aroused Sean is and how long he's been wearing that plug, but as Bill's proving, easy doesn't have to mean fast. And Sean still isn't taking the way bare skin feels against bare skin for granted--not with Bill. "Oh, Christ," Sean groans, heartfelt. "Christ, that's so good."
"Yeah," Bill groans, fighting just as hard as Sean to keep his eyes open as Sean finally comes to a halt. Sliding one hand up Sean's back, Bill tangles his fingers in Sean's hair and pulls his head back, staring at the pale skin of Sean's neck bisected by the collar.
"Mine," he growls, biting down hard, his teeth clashing against Sean's collar.
Sean gasps and holds onto Bill's shoulders, holding tight to keep his balance. "Yours, Master, fuck, yes, yours!"
"Move," Bill growls, finally pulling his mouth away from Sean's neck. He keeps his hand tight in Sean's hair--and God, but he's going to hate it if Sean has to cut it again--and leans back to watch Sean. "Fuck yourself on me, boy. Hard."
Better words have never been spoken. Sean growls and starts moving, thighs flexing against Bill's as he forces himself up and then slams back down on Bill's cock. With the gates on, it hurts, but it hurts so fucking good that Sean doesn't know how long he can stand it. "Jesus--Master, please, fuck, yes, please!"
Glad that he isn't trying to have his own orgasm at a particular time, Bill stops watching the clock and concentrates on the feel of Sean, so damn desperate, on his lap. "Tell me how much you're hurting," he growls. "Tell me how much you like it."
"Oh, God," Sean pants, licking his lips and trying to force his thoughts into order. "Oh, God--fuck--Christ, it's like--like I've had these on forever," he says, looking down at the gates, "like they're biting every time I have a heartbeat, and yes, oh God, fuck, yes, I like it, could stay like this forever if it's what you want, Master, please, Christ I fucking love what you do to me, yes!"
"Oh fuck," Bill growls, thrusting up into Sean once more before he comes, gasping out something that might be Sean's name. "So good," he says, as he lets his head rest on Sean's shoulder. "You're so fucking good, Sean."
It's like being hit by lightning, and not for the first time tonight. Sean. He closes his eyes and tries to catch his breath as he clings hard to Bill's shoulders.
Still catching his breath, Bill clings to Sean as well, his hands gripping Sean's hips tightly. "Goddamn," he murmurs, nuzzling at Sean's neck. "Goddamn."
Once he's got himself a little more collected, he looks over Sean's shoulder at the clock--five to midnight--and smiles a little at how well the timing worked out. Leaning back against the couch, he smiles up at Sean and reaches down to squeeze Sean's cock.
"Oh fuck," Sean blurts out, teeth coming down hard on his lower lip. It hurts like hell, and while he's always wanted to be the kind of slave who can give and give and just keep giving, he's not sure how much longer he can take this. "Master--please, oh Christ, please, hurts so fucking much, Master..."
"Five minutes," Bill says, looking into Sean's eyes. "Can you take five minutes of this?"
The urge to be a perfectionist about this is huge for a few seconds, but eventually Sean looks at Bill with pleading eyes. "Fuck, I want to say yes--but it'll be bad, by the end of it, if it goes on that long," he says softly.
"Thank you." The words come out before Bill can stop them, and he's suddenly a little unsure of himself. But it's big that Sean was honest with him instead of pushing himself, and Bill knows that he was right to acknowledge it.
"All right, then, I want you to come now," he says, his hand working Sean's cock. "Now, for me."
Sean's nodding already, nodding because he can't say anything else--he's too close and it all hurts too much to think of anything but the pain and how it's pushing him over. He closes his eyes, fingers tightening on Bill's shoulders, and with one more stroke he's coming, screaming hoarsely as it burns through him, the gates so tight that it feels like it's going on forever.
He's winded by the end of it, and he knows he's holding on too hard, but he can't help it. He's so exhausted he's practically shaking, and the fact that he's still sitting upright is nothing short of a miracle.
"Good boy," Bill murmurs, letting Sean cling to him. Sean's scream is still echoing in his ears and it's one of the best sounds Bill's ever heard. "That was fantastic," he continues. "You sound so fucking good when you're like that."
Sean leans forward a little more so he can sag against Bill, entirely worn out now. He nods, swallows, but can't say anything just yet. Not after all that.
Recognizing where Sean is at, Bill carefully removes the gates, before shifting a little on the sofa so that he and Sean can cuddle. There's really no other word for it, Bill thinks with a slight smile as he holds Sean close and strokes his back.
That feels so good Sean gives up on being tough; he rests his head against Bill's shoulder and pants as he gets his breath back. His eyes are stinging, but that's understandable; he hasn't hurt like that in a long time. And if he's lightheaded, that's understandable, too; he hasn't come like that in even longer.
When Bill finally looks at the clock, he chuckles a little. Turning his head, he kisses Sean's forehead and then nuzzles against his hair. "Happy New Year," he says softly. "I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be or anyone I'd rather be with."
"I'm glad," Sean murmurs, kissing Bill's cheek and then the corner of his mouth. "Happy New Year, Master--Bill. And welcome home."