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part one


Pete wears those panties again on Monday. He picks them up and crawls back into bed, still naked from the night before, and drapes them on Gabe’s chest to tease him. “Only one of us gets to come today,” Pete says, dragging the panties up Gabe’s throat and cheek. Gabe can smell them. “You choose who,” they say together, and Gabe smiles tightly, pushes the panties away to kiss Pete.

“You,” Gabe sighs, his eyes on Pete’s face but his mind already on his ass. Oh, man. Tonight’s either gonna be incredible or rough as hell.

Gabe thinks about them all through errands and studio time. This time around he knows what to expect- he’s not looking forward to fucking Pete or anything, just the warm, sweet comfort of worshipping his body, making him writhe and moan and leak. He can’t wait.


Pete sets a playlist up when Gabe gets back from the studio and tells Gabe to go slow, that he doesn’t wanna come until they’re a good twenty songs in. Then he lays back on the bed looking all freshly showered and dark and delicious and crooks a finger at Gabe till they’re side by side, kissing.

“Worship me with your mouth and your hands,” Pete murmurs, reaching down to run his along up and down Gabe’s abs. “My whole body. End with my ass.” Just the bedside lamp is on, the lighting dim and yellow- talking like that, Pete might as well have scattered rose petals and lit candles for all the things Gabe’s heart is doing.

“You’re beautiful,” Gabe mumbles back.

Pete gives him a pinch next to his navel, smiling against his mouth. “What are you doing talking? Your mouth has other things to do.”

Gabe smiles and starts his devotions with Pete’s mouth, kissing him deeply, letting his hands run up and down his sides so Pete shivers against him. When Gabe breaks to let his mouth wander up Pete’s jaw to his ear, Pete murmurs back, “You’re beautiful.”

Gabe spends ages sucking over every inch of Pete’s skin, one hand neatly tucked around his balls with a finger pressed to his entrance through the fabric of the panties for Pete to grind on.

“Bite,” Pete breathes, and Gabe’s jaw tightens, sinking his teeth into a mouthful of flat skin over Pete’s pec. Pete’s reaction’s is dramatic, kicking against the sheets with a choked sob as Gabe sucks on his mouthfuls of flesh, leaving red angry marks all over his chest and ribs and thighs. Pete pulls him back now and then when he needs a moment, shoving two fingers in his mouth for Gabe to suck on. Gabe moans around them, his hard cock dragging against the bedspread and Pete’s knees. Eventually Pete says, “Back to kissing,” and Gabe obeys, slipping to Pete’s feet and lifting each one to kiss up his legs adoringly and until he’s just nosing at Pete’s balls, tongue flicking against his inner thighs.

“You wanna rim me, boo?” Pete breathes, and Gabe pants against his knees and smiles.

“Please let me,” he breathes, lifting his gaze to meet Pete’s.

“Mmm, this is your reward, baby, go for it.” Pete spreads his legs in invitation and Gabe could go cross-eyed thinking about how lucky he is to have Pete in his bed like this.

His eyes flutter closed as he leans forward and when he looks up again, Pete’s holding his own knees spread by his chest so his ass is wide and flat for Gabe to enjoy. Gabe goes for it, letting himself be wet and messy, feeling Pete gasp and buck and clench and moan beneath his tongue.

His cock is throbbing. Gabe concentrates on his tongue, the texture of all that wet skin for him to enjoy, his name bubbling out of Pete’s mouth.

“God, stop,” Pete hisses eventually, and the question is already at the tip of Gabe’s tongue when Pete surprises him by panting, “I wanna sit on your face.”

Gabe bites Pete’s thigh and groans with delight, then leaves smacking kisses up his torso on his way to the pillows. He rests on his back and Pete pulls the panties to the side and straddles his shoulders, facing the foot of the bed. Gabe’s whole field of vision narrows down to the greatest ass he’s ever seen in his life before he closes his eyes and licks out of his mouth, letting Pete settle with his hands on Gabe’s ribs. He grinds- all Gabe has to do is hold his breath and stick his tongue out wet and Pete’s practically doing all the work, twisting his flat little hips and babbling pornographic nonsense, fingernails clawing up Gabe’s stomach.

Pete’s hand wraps around the root of Gabe’s cock and squeezes too hard to be comfortable. Gabe moans into Pete’s ass and Pete presses down hard to catch all those vibrations- Gabe hears the groan above him. “Fuck, I’d almost forgotten the fucking sounds you make when I blow you right,” Pete gasps, and digs his fingernails into Gabe’s cock. Gabe sobs, his fingernails tightening around Pete’s thighs. Pete gives his cock a smack and Gabe bucks, tongue retreating as he gasps.

“Fuck,” Pete says, and does it again. Gabe moans and Pete leans forward to slap the inside of Gabe’s thigh. “Lick, slut, I’m not done with your tongue,” so Gabe does, his tongue stretching again to tease at pushing past the muscle to go inside. Pete pins Gabe’s cock to his stomach and then there’s a smack to his balls that makes Gabe’s hips rise off the bed, curling forward so he jostles Pete’s whole body.

Pete does it again and then gasps, “F-fuck, Gabe, I can’t not- just the head, a little,” and then he’s rolling his hips in circles onto Gabe’s face again as he leans down and licks the head of Gabe’s cock.

“Fuck!” Gabe manages, and then Pete’s ass pushes down as his lips wrap around the whole tip, tongue pressed to Gabe’s slit. Gabe sobs against Pete’s ass but there’s nothing to do but lie there- any part of his body is Pete’s when he wants it, and if Pete can’t resist sucking Gabe’s cock right now Gabe can’t really blame him, haha, but mostly he can’t really stop him. Not unless he wants to be punished again. So all he can do is sit still with his tongue out as Pete fucks down onto it and moans dramatically around Gabe’s cock, scraping his teeth down the side and crushing Gabe’s balls in his fist as he slurps so perfectly around the head.

Gabe’s gonna die.

“Slut, if you don’t start licking I am gonna get the fucking cane,” Pete hisses, smacking Gabe’s balls, and Gabe gives another groan from deep in his chest and the pain that curls his whole body up. He fucks Pete with his tongue as Pete twists his balls and sucks his cock, gasping underneath him, blood pressure rising. Pete is going to give him a heart attack in about thirty seconds or something, fuck.

“Please!” Gabe gasps, and then gives two flat licks to Pete’s crack so he doesn’t think he’s forgotten. “Please stop, I can’t holmmfm,” Gabe manages before Pete reaches back to shove a hand between his legs and two fingers into Gabe’s mouth. Then he lifts Gabe’s balls and bites them, and Gabe starts seeing stars. He feels like he’s floating.

“Peesh,” Gabe manages to plead as Pete’s teeth drag up the side again. Then Pete sits up, scoots back three or four inches, pulls the panties to the side so his cock is out, and presses the tip into Gabe’s mouth. Gabe moans gratefully as Pete’s cock pushes along his tongue and down the curve of his throat, Pete’s hands at Gabe’s nipples.

Gabe’s heart is pumping, his cock throbbing. He feels like with the right words Pete could make him come without touching him and that is not, is not okay. Pete twists and pinches, then retreats to teasing just the tips. Then he bends over.

Pete’s mouth closes around the head and Gabe pushes Pete right off him in one heave, rolling him over and coughing out a, “Ha-cha- Jersey! Shit. Jersey.

Pete crawls up to Gabe’s side and curls against him whispering, “Shhh, baby, baby, I’m sorry-“ and Gabe rasps back, “No, I’m good, I’m good, I was just- I was gonna come, I knew it, I’m sorry.” Normally he’d be pressing his cheek to Pete’s chest now, kissing up his ribs and along the thorns around his collarbone, but he doesn’t feel like it right now. He just feels drained, empty, humiliated. His cock is twitching and it makes him mad, and being mad makes him feel ungrateful. He just sits there, staring at his erection and Pete’s knee tucked over his thigh and wants to shake him off and take a cold shower and come back with a clear head. The pressure of cutting himself off like this is getting to be too much. It’s like with his punishment- tied up, he can take it if he has to. If Pete would just order him not to come, if Pete would just fucking lock his cock up in some damn fancy plastic chastity device, he could do this. He could focus three hundred percent on serving Pete with the temptation gone. But Pete won’t give him that. Pete’s just asking him the same damn question every day and every answer he gives is wrong, and the only reason he hasn’t come in two weeks is because he’s too fucking stupid to get the answer right. The longer this goes on, the harder it is to keep his whole heart in it, the harder it is to just trust that Pete knows what he’s doing.

“This is hard,” Gabe breathes, trying not to sound like a tool when he says it.

“You’re getting closer,” Pete says, looking up at him with big stupid puppy eyes and a cautious smile.

Gabe just stares, dumbfounded. “Pete,” he says disbelievingly.

“You’re getting closer!” Pete says, crawling up Gabe’s lap to kiss his cheek wetly. Gabe closes his eyes and finds that not flinching away is easier than he thought it would be. “Seriously. I can tell. That look on your face just now, that was you getting closer.”

“That was me trying not to kill you, Pete.”

“I know, baby, that’s what I’m talking about.”

Gabe laughs at how fucking absurd this is. He laughs at his whole fucking life, that he talks the talk of being this big boss and he sells fucking millions of records and he travels the world and when he comes home Pete undoes him by just making him choose.

“Is this your fucked-as-shit way of telling me you want to start subbing again or something? Trying to get me so wound up I flip you onto your back and fuck you without permission?”

Pete bites his ear fondly and Gabe smiles again, actually. “No. Don’t try it. I will make your life a living hell if you try it.”

Gabe turns and kisses Pete shallowly. Pete drapes his arms around his neck and Gabe smiles and mumbles, “Mmm, promise?”

Pete laughs against Gabe’s mouth and flicks his tongue against his teeth. “You douche,” he grumbles happily. “I’m serious, though, don’t. It would ruin the whole thing and I could punish you all I want but I couldn’t build it up this way again.”

“And that would be terrible?” Gabe says, his sarcasm sounding surprisingly Jewish even to himself.

Pete tweaks Gabe’s nipple and his cock jerks again, fuck. “Look, just tell me what you need to calm down, alright?” Pete breathes, and Gabe wraps his arms around Pete’s waist. “I dunno. Probably shouldn’t be touching you. I guess I should read for a while till I can focus again.”

Pete nips Gabe’s lip with pride. Then he shrinks back enough to look Gabe in the eyes and says, “I’m really sorry.”

“For sucking my cock? Don’t be.”

Pete smiles crookedly. Gabe says, “I could still blow you if you want.”

“Nah,” Pete answers, “Look.” He looks at his lap and sure enough, he’s mostly gone soft by now.

“Oh,” Gabe says, and Pete kisses his cheek. “Man, nothing kills an erection like insecurity, huh?”

“I love you,” Gabe says sincerely, just in case Pete needs to hear it. As the desperation fades, so does Gabe’s bitterness. He doesn’t want Pete doubting this any more than he already does.

“I’m an asshole.”

“I love you, asshole.”


The next day he doesn’t have studio time but Pete does, so Gabe spends the morning sleeping and the afternoon rereading Kafka by the big picture windows that let in all the natural light.

Pete gets home and bounces over to kiss Gabe eagerly. It’s already ten at night. Pete says, “We recorded three fucking tracks today. It was awesome!” and raises his hand for a high five.

“That’s what’s up!” Gabe laughs, meeting Pete’s hand with a clap. Pete bunches his hands in Gabe’s shirt and says, “Let’s go out.”

“I just-“ Gabe says, but Pete’s running to the kitchen. He returns with a Red Bull, moving towards him. “Ah,” Gabe says, and when he reaches for it Pete pulls it back, his mischief smile back in place.

“Kiss first.”

Gabe dips him just about in half to kiss him, fingers digging into his hips. Pete chuckles and bites Gabe’s lip hard. “Mm, hot. Collar off, take your Red Bull. Wear a tie.” The way Gabe loves Pete in those little red panties, that’s the way Pete loves Gabe in ties. He tells him it’s because he might as well be wearing a leash in public. They nuzzle for a moment and Gabe breathes, “Yes, sir,” against his lips.


The club is hot but the VIP room is cooler, less crowded.

Pete’s in his tight jeans and a very expensive, very stupid button down with weird ragged denim patches on the shoulders and big bronze stars stitched onto them, studding the shiny elastic shirt. He looks like an idiot but that’s okay because he is an idiot.

They slam two drinks each back at the bar right when they walk in, not wasting any time getting drunk. Pete can’t dance, so they’ve settled into a comfortable agreement: since Gabe loves dancing and Pete only lets Gabe drag him out once he’s had a few, they just start drinking heavily the second they hit the club and they’re on the dancefloor in twenty minutes. An hour in, they’re usually up to the shit that sells tabloids. They’ve calmed a little as they hit their thirties; now their names are only on TMZ once a month or so instead of every fucking weekend. For the first two hours that they’re there, they’re easily the most famous people present, which gives them license to do what they want, pretty much: they buy cute girls drinks even though they’re obviously together, they invade the DJ booth and request stupid shit (unironically, though- their bad taste is completely sincere), and Pete sits on Gabe’s shoulders in the middle of the dancefloor. They generally make fools of themselves in the best, drunkest ways possible.

After seven drinks Gabe is seriously wondering if anyone would touch them to kick them out if he bent Pete over a table and fucked him right on the VIP balcony. They’ve already knocked a couple chairs over and when Robert Pattinson showed up, Pete had decided to sit in his lap to introduce himself. Robert had been amused. Cameras had flashed. Gabe wondered if he wasn’t dangerously enabling Pete’s wild entitlement sometimes.

“You know what I miss?” Gabe shouts into Pete’s ear, bending down to shout over the music as they dance. Pete presses back against him, tipping the crown of his head to Gabe’s chest to look up at him as best he can.

“What?” he mouths back. Gabe’s fingers spread, feeling Pete’s hipbones under his shirt. He imagines he can feel the bartskull, too. If he goes just a little higher his fingers will find the hickeys on Pete's abs from yesterday.

“High school dances,” Gabe says, flashing Pete a charming smile. He’s good at staying charming while drunk- unlike Pete, who just laughs at his own jokes and can’t finish sentences.

Pete doesn’t waste words trying to shout at Gabe over the music, but the incredulous look that he sets on Gabe tells him everything he needs to know: What the fuck, why? High school was a fucking shithole, everyone had bad taste and was mean to each other, no-one knew how to grind, and the school dances were all basically cruising spots for anyone who knew how to flirt, IE not me, or places where short dreadlocked faggy guys who liked nu-metal got beat up, IE me.

Gabe turns Pete around and lifts his arms around his neck, setting his hands on Pete’s hips again. “Slow dances,” he shouts right into Pete’s ear, and Pete face settles slowly from pseudo-offended confusion into a flattered smile.

Pete’s hips slow down to half time. Gabe follows, bending down to kiss him sloppily. Maybe more cameras flash, maybe it’s just the lights. It’s not like photos the two of them kissing are hot commodity anymore; they’ve been old news for like two years. They’re barely moving on the dance floor except for a slow round undulation of Gabe’s hips against Pete’s, clinging to each other with messy, drunk dependence. Pete runs his hands up and down Gabe’s tie with a little smile and nips his lip.

“You just want to get into my pants,” Pete coos at him, standing up on his tiptoes. Gabe still has to lean down to hear him.

Gabe laughs, plays along. “Oh no, sweetheart- I don’t wanna pressure you. I just wanted to bring you to a dance. My intentions are pure. We can wait as long as you want,” he shouts back, and Pete cackles- Gabe can hardly hear it but Pete’s head snaps back with his laugh.

“And we will,” Pete answers, tugging on Gabe’s tie.

“And we do,” Gabe replies, sliding his hands down to Pete’s ass.


They’re still drunk when they get back but that’s never stopped them from playing before- technically it’s advertised as unsafe, but Gabe is pretty confident that if he had to say, “Jersey,” while Pete was drunk, Pete would be likely to cry with apologies than to ignore him. Pete tightened Gabe’s tie till his face was red and he was wheezing in the cab, then hissed, “Spread,” and pinched up the insides of his thighs through his slacks while he kissed Gabe’s neck.

It had only lasted a few minutes, since they weren’t far from home- As soon as they were inside their door Pete had slapped Gabe in the face with a hand on his tie and said, “Worship me,” with a cold edge that knocked the breath from Gabe’s chest.

So Gabe’s on his knees now, arms wrapped around Pete’s thighs and kissing his hipbones with flat, wet lips, dragging them all up a down Pete’s tattoo and licking the lines like he can taste them. Dirty talk is tumbling out of him, less cheesy than Pete’s: “Fuck, sir, you’re so fucking perfect, your hips drive me fucking crazy-“ He scrapes his teeth a little and Pete sways, stumbles back a step till his back hits the door with a groan, “-I could be here all day just tasting you if you let me, I’d do anything you want- Would you let me suck your cock, sweetheart? Would you fuck my throat till my eyes are wet, sir?”

“Oh Jesusfuck,” Pete manages. Gabe squeezes his ass and looks up at him adoringly, then stretches Pete’s shirt out to shove his head underneath, licking his abs and nibbling up his treasure trail. His tongue flicks at Pete’s bellybutton with a groan that seems to come from his chest and the chest above him simultaneously.

“PetePetePetepleasepleaseplease,” Gabe whispers, eyes closed. He might as well be praying. “Tell me what you want from me, I’ll do it. Do you want my fingers? My mouth, querido? They’re yours. Do you want my heart? You have it already. Do you want my cock?” Pete’s hips buck forward and the button stretched over the back of Gabe’s head pop open with the jerky motion. Gabe’s accent is bleeding in a little- he’s not so far gone that he’s murmuring in Spanish but he’s not far from it. Pete tears the top buttons on his shirt open and they pop free easily from the elastic fabric. Gabe kisses up his chest, getting on one knee to lick at Pete’s nipple, still babbling drunkenly. “Do you want me to suffer for you, sweetheart? Anything for you.”

Pete grips a hand in Gabe’s hair, hips rolling slowly as Gabe’s mouth is yanked from of his chest. “Suffer for me,” Pete says, rolling his head sideways and looking at Gabe crookedly like he can’t really see him. “Yeah, that one. That one. Twist your nipples.” Gabe’s hands fly from Pete’s ass to his own chest, holding Pete’s eyes as he pinches his nipples through his shirt. His mouth falls open when he twists- Pete is swimming in front of him, his vision tunneled from booze down to nothing but Pete’s sadistic smile. Gabe smiles back, so proud to have pleased him.

“Please more.”

Pete lets go of his hair to slap him in the face. He says, “Twist the other way,” and wobbles forward from the door, moving his weight to his feet to he can really have some pressure when he lifts a foot to step on Gabe’s crotch. Gabe twists the other way and groans, giving a dry little sob as Pete’s heel digs into his erection. “Slut,” he rumbles darkly.

“Yes sir!” Gabe gasps back. “Yes, fuck yes, I’m your slut, I’m all yours, please-“

Pete foot lifts. Gabe wants to fall forward but he hasn’t gotten permission to let go of his nipples, still holding them twisted between his fingers for Pete.

“I want your cock,” Pete says.

“Yes, sir,” Gabe breathes, leaning into Pete’s crotch again. Oh, God, he’s hard and he smells so good and Gabe’s so drunk and tired, he just wants to sit there and lean against Pete’s hip and suck at his cock through his perfect stretchy skintight jeans until Pete pulls out and comes on his face. He’d be the happiest man alive if Pete would just let him rest and sit here worshipping his cock until the end of time. “Yes sir, yes sir-“

“-And I want you tied down in the bedroom, and I want you blindfolded, and I want- oh, shit,” Pete pants. Gabe’s crushing his face and nose against Pete’s erection. Pete reaches down and grabs Gabe’s hair and steps away from his mouth. “C’mon,” he says, dragging Pete across the living room and hall by his hair. Gabe crawls behind him, kneeling on the end of his tie now and then and jerking himself forward. It’s graceless and fumbling and his mind is already on Pete.

Pete leads him up onto the bed, twisting his hand in his hair. Gabe groans and Pete smacks his hip and Gabe groans more, falling onto his back. Pete loosens his tie and opens the buttons on Gabe’s shirt hungrily, then reaches for his belt. Fly open, Pete pushes Gabe’s boxer briefs down and stares at his cock with an slack jaw and flat eyes, his thumb pressed to the bottom of the base. Gabe bites his lip with anticipation.

Pete smacks his cock. “Uh- get the… The lube,” he says, falling off Gabe to one side and landing laying down. “And stay on the floor. And get me uh- your cuffs and blindfold. Yeah.” Pete rubs himself though his jeans, biting at the insides of his lips lustfully and watching Gabe with dark eyes. “Fast.”

Gabe tumbles off the bed and crawls to the toy drawer, more careful this time of his tie especially now that it’s loose. He brings back the cuffs and blindfold and gets the lube from the nightstand, presenting them all to Pete. He realizes suddenly he’s not wearing his collar- they’d forgotten at the door. He’s kind of hazily disappointed, but too into this to care much.

“Good boy,” Pete mumbles, and Gabe smiles dreamily, resting his cheek on the bedspread. Pete reaches for his hands and Gabe presents his wrists gratefully so Pete can wrap the leather cuffs around them.

“Behind your back,” Pete says, opening the padlock linked to one D-ring so Gabe can lock them together. Pete tosses the keys to the nightstand as Gabe fumbles with the padlock and then his wrists are secured behind his back, tipping his face up with his eyes closed, shirt open and slipping off one shoulder, tie loose around his bare collarbones. His cock is rising from his open fly.

Pete blindfolds him pretty fast considering how drunk he is. The first slap lands as a surprise, although it shouldn’t have been. The second one, from the other direction, is expected and welcomed- the pain bites through the liquor, sharp and clear and bare. Gabe raises his head blindly waiting for more, and another pair lands a moment later.

“Fuck,” Pete says, his fingers tracing over Gabe’s cheekbones where his stinging fingertips had landed. “You are the most beautiful fucking- I’m the luckiest fucking- Oh, God.” Gabe smiles just a little, licks his lower lip.

Pete smacks him in the face again. “You’re the sexiest fucking man I’ve ever seen and all you want is to get me off all day every day. Can you imagine how hot that is?” Gabe’s cock flushes with another wave of arousal. Pete’s the sexiest man he’s ever seen and all Gabe wants to do is let Pete have his wicked way with him and Pete lets him. Does Pete have any idea how hot that is? Gabe wants to ask but he’s pretty sure Pete wants him silent right now. “I just wanna stare at you,” Pete whispers. And sometimes he does- before the question, Pete would sometimes lie there after sex, exhausted and flushed and gorgeous, and tell Gabe to hold his eyes again and talk dirty and masturbate for him. And even though Gabe had just come, he did. It took a while but he didn’t stop until he’d come for Pete again, sore and sensitive, holding out his come-spattered hand to show him like an offering. Pete was so happy just to watch Gabe. Gabe was so happy that looking at him got Pete off.

There’s a shifting on the bed and two matching thunks on the floor- Pete’s sneakers coming off. Then Gabe hears a zipper and the rustle of the rest of Pete’s clothes, hearing his weight flop around on the bed until Gabe’s pretty sure he’s naked. Next is the cap on the lube and the squelchy gasping of the nearly-empty bottle until Pete’s weight is settled on the bed, still. Gabe hears a soft wet sound right by his face and then there’s skin roughly pushing at his cheek and mouth.

“Kiss,” Pete rasps. It’s his foot. Gabe obeys, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sole, dabbing sweet little pecks along his toes. The wet sounds get faster and Pete switches feet. He’s fingering himself open inches from Gabe’s face; Gabe can smell him. His mouth waters.

“Tell me you’re mine,” Pete whispers dryly.

Gabe moans against Pete’s instep, scraping his teeth so Pete flinches. “As long as you’ll have me,” Gabe breathes, his spine dipped forward so he can lean into Pete’s foot. He kisses up to his ankle.

“Just repeat,” Pete pants. There’s two wet rhythms now, a slapping sound- Pete’s jerking off. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” Gabe whispers against the wet skin of Pete’s heel.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, I love you.”

“Tell me how bad you want my ass.”

Gabe groans at that one. It’s been days and days since he really fucked Pete- they’d done it seven or eight times since Pete started making him deny himself, but not since Pete had decided to stop teasing him.

“I want your ass so bad, sir.” He could take it, though, he knows he could- it had been easier last time than Pete sucking his cock. There was just something so different about Pete’s mouth on him. Maybe it was just that Pete did it pretty rarely before the question. Fucking Pete, he’s pretty sure he could handle. “If that makes you happy, sir, my cock in your perfect ass…”

Pete grunts and the bed shifts as his legs spread even further. Gabe worships his feet dutifully, sucking each of his toes, kissing the balls of his feet. He’s hard but this is good, comfortable, tolerable, wonderful. He could be here all night.

“Bite my thighs.”

Gabe leans forward blindly, feels Pete’s feet rest on his trapped shoulderblades, kicking his shirt further off his shoulders. He starts just with nips, feeling Pete’s hand at his cock fall away, feeling him shudder as his teeth meet skin. He licks at every bite he takes, lapping with little moans, and then really sinks his teeth in so close to Pete’s hip that Pete’s knuckles brush his cheek as they slide in and out of his ass. Pete spits out an, “Oh ho ho fuck,” and bucks up, but doesn’t dislodge Gabe’s teeth or the pressure of his suction.

When Gabe lets go he licks over that spot. He can feel the indents of his teeth. He can’t feel the broken blood vessels, but he knows there’ll be a hickey there. He polka dots kisses all around the area tenderly, breathing hot over the wet skin. All the sensation in his whole body is focused on his lips and the way he can smell Pete’s crotch because it’s right there.

“Again,” Pete whispers, and sobs as Gabe crushes another mouthful of his opposite thigh between his teeth. Gabe sucks hard until his jaw aches and then lets go, sinking in again not even an inch away. Pete thrashes and pants, “Fucking- three fingers, almost ready-“

Gabe’s cock throbs with how bad he wants Pete.

“Tell me you’re my fucking whore,” Pete babbles.

“I’m your fucking whore,” Gabe exhales along Pete’s hip. Just a taste of his cock, just a taste- he nuzzles Pete’s balls and licks with just the tip of his tongue and suddenly he’s smacked to the side by a blow to the side of his head and another to his cheek once it’s exposed from between Pete’s thighs.

“Did I say you were allowed to touch my balls, slut?” Pete pants, and Gabe hangs his head somewhere, he guesses, by Pete’s knee.

“No, sir.”

“Is this about what you want?” Pete asks, and slaps him again. Gabe’s balls tighten. This isn’t a punishment, this is a game. It turns him the fuck on.

“No, sir,” he breathes.

“I know you’re a cocksucking whore, but you do not touch me without permission.”

“Yes, sir.” Another slap. Gabe’s head is spinning, oh God, being this drunk is making him disoriented.

“If I wanted you to lick my balls I’d damn well make you… Oh, fuck,” Pete moans, apparently forgetting himself. There’s a wet sound and then Pete’s hand is in his hair (Gabe dully hopes it’s the clean one) and pulls him face-first to the bedspread. “On the bed on your back,” Pete says, and Gabe scrambles to obey, flopping backwards and laying on his wrists.

“God, if I don’t get your cock in me I’m gonna fucking explode,” Pete mutters, yanking Gabe’s pants down to mid-thigh. Gabe hears the click of the cap again and then lube is landing his cock, fat drop by fat drop. The bottle’s almost empty. Pete slides one wet fist down his whole length and makes Gabe groan, spreading the lube around. Then Gabe feels Pete’s calves bracket his hips.

Gabe bites his lips as Pete’s hand closes around his balls. Pete’s ass drops and Pete doesn’t line Gabe up or anything, just lets his cock slip between his cheeks wetly, up and down and up and down. Gabe is breathing hard, trying not to writhe, trying so desperately to just lay back and passively let Pete use his body how he wants. It’s nearly impossible not to buck, to resist the urge to bury his cock in Pete’s ass deep and proper, to shock a moan out of Pete as he sinks in deep in one thrust.

But then Pete does it for him, settling back down onto Gabe’s cock in a slow squeeze so Gabe can feel every inch of Pete’s ass. He tenses his thighs, trying to hold back. Pete moans and his hands tighten on Gabe’s balls, using them like reigns as he finally starts to ride up and down on Pete’s cock, grip spasming tight when Gabe’s cock hits his prostate.

Pete speeds up, panting- Gabe can imagine him with his head back, facing the foot of the bed, imagine the curved of his spine and the missiles tattooed on his back and the way his ass looks stretched around Gabe’s cock. Gabe’s fingers tighten into fists behind the small of his back as Pete whimpers and clenches around him, waves of pain as Pete uses his nuts as fucking stress balls pushing him even deeper into swimming mental abandon than the liquor already did. Gabe’s gonna throw up, he’s gonna come, he’s gonna pass out.

“Pete, fuck,” he moans, and Pete slaps the inside of his thigh. Gabe spreads for more.

“Oh shit, you slut, I can’t believe how hot you are- beg me to hurt you,” Pete pants as he bounces.

“Please,” Gabe all but shouts. Oh, fuck, he’s gonna remember to hold back, he’s gotta keep a hold on himself- he focuses on the pain and the disorientation, anything but the slick sweet pressure of Pete’s ass around him, anything but that- “Please slap me again, please squeeze my balls, please make me feel it- Agh!” he blurts as Pete twists his balls away from his body. His hips twist, rolling up into Pete, halfway bucking him off. He can’t help it. It makes Pete moan, ass twitching tighter. Gabe holds his breath from the effort not to burst in Pete’s ass, biting his lip. Then Pete slows down, clenching and unclenching, working Gabe’s cock with his ass. Gabe whimpers, toes curling and feet kicking against the sheets.

Pete hums a long breath out, higher and lower as he rides up and down. “Alright, slut-“ he pants, digging his fingernails into Gabe’s balls. Gabe’s whimper breaks into a sob, pointing his toes, arching his spine, trying to hold back. Oh, fuck, if only Pete would just sit on his face again, if only Pete would fuck his mouth, if only Pete would forbid him from doing anything more but listening as he fucked himself on a dildo or something, anything, anything but this. If only Pete just wouldn’t let him, he could do it- he lives under Pete’s law, not his own.

“Only one of us gets to come tonight,” Pete pants, smacking Gabe’s balls. Gabe begs, “Please!” and Pete twists them from his body and says, “You – fuck – choose who.”

Gabe is gonna fucking cry. He’s too drunk for this.

“Please don’t make me choose,” Gabe pleads, half choking on holding back tears.

Pete jerks and gasps, “Fuck! What?

Please don’t make me choose,” Gabe begs, writhing underneath him. “Please just tell me I can’t come, please just tell me I can’t come, please don’t make me do it, oh God-“

“Say it again,” Pete gasps, suddenly moving his hips in a circle. Gabe’s going crazy.

“Please don’t, please, please don’t make me choose, please don’t make me do it, please just tell me please just tell me-“

Pete’s ass tenses suddenly around him, spasming closed, as Pete shouts, “Fuck, Gabe, fuck, right answer, fuck!

“What?” Gabe shouts. Wait. What?

“Oh God, youcancomeyoucancomeyoucancome!” Pete shouts and Gabe thrashes underneath him, planting his feet flat against the bed so all his weight is on his toes and shoulders to fuck up into Pete desperately as he feels himself totally fucking black out. The light that had been leaking in from the corner of his blindfold goes dark as he comes so hard that if Pete hadn’t been holding onto his balls he would have bucked him right off.

When he finds himself able to have thoughts again, his heart is thudding louder and harder than he ever remembers, exaggerated by the alcohol and the blindfold, and his whole body is hot and numb and limp. He feels Pete’s weight land next to him with a flop and then he’s blinking into the dim light as Pete shoves his blindfold up. Gabe’s heaving; he can’t get enough air in his lungs. Pete’s grinning with drunken lovestruck eyes, one fumbling hand cupping Gabe’s cheek. Gabe has no fucking clue what’s happening.

“Oh baby, baby,” Pete laughs, and kisses Gabe till his lungs ache. Gabe just wants to bury his face in Pete’s neck and wait for his heart to stomp punching his ribcage. He’s floating three feet off the bed, he’s sure of it, he’s sure of it.

“Good boy,” Pete whispers between heaving breaths. Gabe can’t even make words. He can’t even remember what words are but when Pete whispers it again, “Oh, my good boy, Gabe, you got it, you got there, that was the hottest thing that’s ever happened in my life,” Gabe actually just whimpers and leans up for another kiss like a baby bird reaching for food. Pete kisses him gratefully, pinning Gabe back to the bed, pawing at his shoulder and throat and cheeks.

“What… Did I… Do?” Gabe manages to pant, a minute later. He can’t feel his lips; he’s just been lying there and letting Pete kiss him. His whole body is shaking and numb. He’s so drunk and so deep under, he feels like he’s never gonna come up again.

“Didn’t want to choose,” Pete whispers against his lips, kissing all over his face. Pete’s hands feel shaky, too, Gabe is pretty sure. “Mmm, that’s all I wanted. You gave everything up to me just now, right, you didn’t even want to choose, you just wanted to obey- You are the most perfect- Oh my God, I love you, I love you-“

Gabe smiles, open and stupid and giddy. He’s only got the vaguest sense of what’s going on but he laughs incredulously, cackling, panting, rolling onto his side to kiss the corner of Pete’s mouth.

Pete nuzzles his face, hooking a knee up over Gabe’s hip. “God, that was amazing, you’re amazing- I missed making you come so much. I am gonna make you come so much this week your dick is gonna cry, I swear to God. I swear to God. I fucking love you I love you I love you- Oh, fuck, how long do you think until you can get it up again?”

Gabe just smiles at him, basking in Pete’s joy and praise and pride. “Can I please have my hands back, sir?” he croaks, and Pete stammers, “Fucking- yeah, right, I’m sorry, I’m a douche, yeah-“ and fumbles for the keys. Gabe just closes his eyes and breathes and feels Pete shift around him as his wrists are freed, and then lifts them to pull Pete so close against his body. Pete wriggles happily in his arms, kissing all over his face.

“Oh, I had all these plans for when you were allowed to come again, I was gonna make you wait and I was gonna let you pick how you wanted to have your first orgasm again, anything you want.” Pete fingers scrape lightly down his chest, moving manically. Gabe nuzzles his throat and he can feel Pete’s heartbeat rabbiting wildly. “I thought bout it so much when you went down on me, I thought about it so much but I’m really drunk and that was so amazing I just fucked it all up, I’m sorry- Oh I fucking love you, I’m so in love with you, you’re the fucking best.”

Gabe sighs. He’s warm everywhere. He’s not on this planet. He’s in heaven and he’s with the man of his dreams. He’s in touch with every bit of happiness and love and pride in the universe, stuck in a big web of sticky confident peace that stretches around the whole world and he’s gonna stay there as long as he has Pete.

“Seriously, how long till you can get it up again? Probably not that long, after all that waiting. Oh I wanna blow you and taste you this time- Do you want me to get the panties? Or the switch? You look like you’re in a pain mood, you could take a lot of pain-“

Gabe presses kisses to the thorns around Pete’s neck. He’s shivering as Pete babbles about all the dirty ways he can think of to make Gabe come, every divine pleasure in the fucking universe, and Gabe doesn’t listen for the words, just enjoys the happy proud undertones of Pete being pleased with him that’s stringing through everything he says.

“Mmm,” Pete moans as he kisses Gabe deeply again. It’s perfect, Pete’s perfect, Gabe is perfect tonight. “So how do you wanna come, baby?” Pete breathes against his lips, then smacks little kisses all over them. “Any way you want tonight. I just missed making you come.”

His hand curls around Gabe’s cheek again, smiling at him adoringly.

“I dunno, sir,” Gabe sighs, eyelashing fluttering against Pete’s chest.

He smiles.

“Don’t make me choose.”

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March 2015

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