Chapter Text
Brendon is on his knees, legs frog tied and open, his chest box tied with his arms behind his back. Ryan put him on the leather bench, pushed the electric metal dildo inside him and connected it to the battery, set it medium power and slapped Brendon’s ass with a “ride it”. His back and chest are already red from the flogging, and his cock is aching hard because Ryan hasn’t seen anyone enjoy electricity as much as Brendon does. The chain attached to the clover clamps adorning his used nipples bumps against his chest every time he arches his back, every time he moves. The blindfold makes his lips look fuller, lusher, and maybe they’re bigger than usual after Ryan tortured them with bites.
This is them now, this is what they’ve become. And this is Ryan’s guest room, which he has turned into an improvised dungeon after all the shit he’s been buying lately to play with Brendon. He knows he will cry the moment he sees his bank account but, good God, isn’t he enjoying the results. He didn’t even need this much to play with Brendon, to be honest. Brendon is a simple man, he goes well just using hands and ropes and physical brutality, but Ryan, he’s more self-indulgent. Ryan likes a good set up, the right vibe, the imagery. The moment he paints the walls black it will be just perfect. For now on, the room full of torture devices will have to do.
Ryan lowers his hand to stroke his cock over the fabric of his pants. Just seeing Brendon like this gets him so hard he’s almost dizzy, and he can’t wait to push him down against the bench, hold him, fuck him until he empties himself inside that body. He wants to wait, though. He wants to wait until Brendon is shaking, sweating, begging. Ryan knows he’ll get there, he always gets there, sooner or later, electricity always does the trick, and Ryan won’t let him come until he does, anyway. Not that he can verbally control Brendon’s orgasms (yet), but he’s inserted a metal cockplug in him and it’s not going off until Ryan is inside him.
That motherfucker, though…
That motherfucker is singing
“I’m a cowboy!” Brendon pants, with a smug smile painted on his face, his hips rolling against the leather. “On a steel horse I ride. And I’m wanted, waaanteeed, dead or alive!”
"You're such an asshole..." Ryan says when he can't help laughing, getting closer and slapping Brendon's stomach with his hand wide open. Brendon flinches and moans a little, smiling.
"No, baby. I'm a cowboy. Yeehaw.”
Ryan shakes his head, walking around him and pushing him down, making him fall on the bench with a thud. It makes Brendon gasp and groan. Ryan smiles.
"Not a cowboy anymore?" He asks, spanking Brendon's ass with his bare hand, making him twitch, his inner muscles sucking the metal dildo in.
"And I walk these streets, a loaded six string on my back, I play for keeps, 'cause I might not make it back. I've been everywhere, and still I'm standing tall. I've seen a million faces and I've rocked them all," Brendon sings again, moving his head to look at Ryan with a smug smile. "Cause I'm a cowboy... Fuck"
Brendon shakes and trembles when Ryan sets the controls to send an electric shock. It’s barely a second, but it leaves Brendon panting heavily. Ryan spanks him again, feeling Brendon’s skin getting warmer, more sweaty now. Ryan can see Brendon’s fingers trying to grasp for something, scratching his own wrists. He’s getting desperate. Nice.
“You just need to beg for it,” Ryan says, stroking the flesh he just spanked, grabbing it hard. Brendon moves against the bench, almost humping it.
“Fuck you,” he spits, panting and moving, and now his body seems unable to stay still. Ryan knows this is it, this is the point of no return, this is where Brendon will break to get what he needs. “I can get off just like this, I don’t need you.”
“Oh, but you do,” Ryan smiles, sending another shock through Brendon’s body, making him convulse and moan loudly. “Or do you want to come with that little thing inside your cock? I wanna see you try.”
“Motherfucker,” Brendon mutters, rubbing his face against the leather, his body starting to fight the restraints. He’s so close. “Fuck. Fuck, come on. Just… Ryan, I’m dying. Just do it.”
“That’s not polite.” Ryan moves, leaning over Brendon, kissing his cheek and pressing against his body, letting him feel how impossibly hard he is. Brendon might be dying, but Ryan is about to explode. “Ask for it like a good boy,” he says almost laughing because he knows how much Brendon hates that, how much he hates pet names during sex, and it shows. Brendon shakes and tries to free himself from the ropes, hissing like a caged cat. “Shh. Easy, easy, kitty,” Ryan laughs, using his body weight to pin Brendon down. “Would it kill you to say please? Come on, baby, just a word and you’ll get it. I know you want it,” he says, kissing below Brendon’s ear, whispering. “That toy is nothing compared to my cock, forcing you open, getting so deep inside you. It’s gonna hurt so good.”
“I hate you,” Brendon pants, but he’s shivering, there are goosebumps all over his skin, and Ryan just knows. “Please. Just fuck me. Fuck me, Ryan, please. Okay? Huh?”
Ryan laughs and he can hear Brendon sighing in relief when he turns off the toy, taking it out before rubbing the head of his cock against his hole. He could do it right now, just a short, hard thrust and he’d bury himself in Brendon’s body. Just thinking about it makes him leak, and the heat of skin against skin, the way Brendon’s body just opens up for him when he pushes just a little… it’s too much, too much.
“Say it again,” Ryan orders, and he knows he might be risking too much, pushing him this way, but getting blue balls today would be nothing compared to the possibility of getting Brendon to say please one more time.
“I, fuck, hate you so fucking much, Ryan. I swear to God this is the last time you touch me, you son of a fucking bitch. I don’t need your pity, don’t need your cock, don’t—“
“Baby,” Ryan smiles, pushing his cock a little bit further, then back out again. Brendon moans, long and agonizing, and Ryan knows now he’s won this round, because Brendon can curse like a sailor and threaten him and a million things more, but he hasn’t said his safe word, has he? Exactly, “say please one more time.”
There is a moment of silence, and Ryan holds his breath only so he can hear Brendon’s better. There’s almost a little cry, some whimpering and, then, surrender.
“Please.” His voice is soft and meek, and his whole body shivers as he speaks, as Ryan pushes his cock in slowly, torturing. “Please.”
“That’s it, baby. So good.” It is. It is really good, so good Ryan can’t actually move faster right now because he would come.
“You’re a sadist,” Brendon groans, trying to move back, trying to get some more of Ryan.
“I’m not,” Ryan says and spanks Brendon’s asscheek hard using his hand, making him moan louder. He’s not a sadist, if he were he would never hurt Brendon the way he loves to be hurt.
Once Ryan can slide easily back and forth, the chat is over. The room fills up with moans and grunts, the sound of skin against skin, filthy noises and some bad words here and there, but mostly just fucking, just a good, hard, fast fuck. One of those it makes your whole body shiver, you get goosebumps all over your skin, and if feels like the moment you come you’ll die, and you’ll die happy. Brendon does sound like dying already.
“Ryan, please please please, let me come. Need to come. Need to. Fuck. Fuck. Jesus Christ…”
Ryan has to bite his lips hard, distract himself from the sinful sound of Brendon’s voice so he doesn’t embarrass himself. He grabs Brendon’s hair and pulls, moving him up so he can reach around Brendon’s body with his free hand, touch his cock, take the plug out. He needs to be careful, he doesn’t want to hurt Brendon, not like this, so he thrusts hard for the last time before he stops, his cock pulsing inside Brendon, his fingers sliding the little metal sound out of the already leaking hole.
Brendon moans, long and low, his whole body shaking. “Now, baby,” Ryan says, and he only needs to wrap his hand around Brendon’s cock and start fucking him again to make Brendon come with a “fuckfuckfuckfuck” dripping out of his mouth the same way he’s dripping down Ryan’s hand. It feels… God, so good, that kind of power, not making him come with his hands or his cock or his mouth but with his words. And yeah, yeah, Ryan knows it wasn’t exactly like that, but it felt like that, it stills feels like that, and it fuels Ryan’s inner fire. It makes him thrust harder, faster, digging his fingers on Brendon’s hipbones, his hand still covered in come, and fuck him until he can’t hold it anymore, feeling his climax like a fucking explosion that turns him inside out, leaving him sweaty, panting and almost dead.
He places a soft, tired kiss on the top of Brendon’s back, moving and starting to untie the ropes around Brendon’s limbs, hearing him moan softly in relief when he’s finally able to move again. Ryan massages the marks the rope has left, just a little, while he keeps untying. Brendon is an absolute mess, and he can’t look more beautiful if he tried.
“Shower and bed?” Ryan asks, moving to get a little bottle of water, placing it between Brendon’s hands, making sure he doesn’t drop it and drinks.
“That sounds awesome,” Brendon answers after a big gulp of water.
*
It’s actually surprising how easily they’ve fallen into this routine, Brendon coming home after work and just hanging out, having dinner together, going to the movies, even grocery shopping, then coming back home, having sex, and maybe leaving or maybe staying. Ryan wasn’t used to sharing his bed, his room, his privacy. Fucking and sleeping together are two different things, he always knew that. Fucking is fun, sleeping together is intimate.
Maybe it was because it happened so many times, though, both of them falling asleep exhausted after sex, that Ryan started to care less about the meaning of it. First it was the bed, then it was his bed, and it didn’t mean anything more that “the playroom bed is soaked in sweat so let’s go to my room,” it’s not anything romantic. It’s practical. He and Brendon aren’t at that point of their relationship yet.
He likes Brendon. He really likes Brendon, and it’s not just about how his body seems to be made to fit his, how they seem to read each other’s minds sometimes, how the scenes play so well, how they connect so good when it comes to sex. It’s also his smile, it’s the way Brendon is always smiling, and also laughing, yeah, like everything is so funny but at the same time like he can’t be sad, like he just can be happy. It’s how being by Brendon’s side makes everything more exciting, brighter, warmer. Brendon is the summer, and fuck it because Ryan never really liked summertime but he likes Brendon. He likes Brendon a lot.
“It’s Pete’s birthday next week,” Brendon says with his phone in one hand, a french toast in the other one. Ryan looks at him but Brendon doesn’t look back, his eyes fixed on the screen. Ryan keeps eating his breakfast, waits for what Brendon is going to say next. “They usually throw this party… I mean, they celebrate it the usual way, with friends and family and stuff, but they also throw this kind of kinky party,” Brendon laughs, biting his bottom lip and making a face. “It’s like a gift to Pete, ‘cause sometimes they, uh, you know, Patrick shares Pete and stuff. But yeah, I was just wondering if you’d like to go.”
“But I don’t know them, I’ve never met them. You think…”
“No, yeah, of course. If you’re coming we’ll go to the celebration first, and then to the party. It’s a few days later. It’s totally up to you, though, if you feel like going.”
It could be interesting, meeting Brendon’s friends, seeing him with them. For now Brendon has only met Z and although their relationship has improved since the first time, Ryan knows Brendon doesn’t really get along with her that much. It would be nice if Ryan met Brendon’s friends, that way they could do more things together, go out with more people, enjoy some company.
“Sure, why not?” He answers, making Brendon smile wide, one of those smiles Ryan loves.
Going to parties is not something Ryan usually does, dinner parties, birthday parties, any party. Ryan lives up to the classic tortured writer image, even if he writes for a newspaper and it’s been long since he stopped thinking about publishing his poetry. Mostly he feels more comfortable surrounded by a small group of really close friends, meeting new people makes him feel anxious, especially when he doesn’t know what do they expect from him, who he should be. That’s why play parties are totally different. He wears his Dom role like a second skin, and not only because of how tight his clothes are. Ryan knows who he needs to be when he’s a Dom, he knows how to act, he knows what the rest of people expect from him.
Maybe he’d be even more comfortable if they were going to the play party without having to meet Pete and Patrick at the birthday party first, in real life. He understands it, though, and he made Brendon meet Z in the most uncomfortable way the first time, so this is fair.
“We don’t need to stay for long, but at least I want to try the cake. Patrick always chooses the best cakes ever,” Brendon says. He looks excited about the cake, or maybe it’s just his usual self standing out compared to Ryan’s nervousness. It makes Ryan smile, how childlike Brendon can be sometimes.
“We’ll eat cake,” Ryan says, looking at Brendon with half a smile. “And you can play on the trampoline too,” he mocks. Brendon laughs and sticks his tongue out.
“There is no trampoline, but I would totally play on it if there was one. You should see me doing back flips, I’m fucking awesome.”
“I bet you are.”
The house is huge, pretty in a classic way, and the back yard is big enough to fit a few trampolines. They’re in the nice part of town, Ryan wouldn’t be able to afford a house here. It’s the kind of house you would expect from someone with a Ph.D. in business or medicine, but also the kind of house you would expect from someone who organizes play parties. Being kinky is pretty expensive.
Ryan doesn’t expect to see kids running around when they get in, let alone kids running towards Brendon screaming his name. He waits there at the door while Brendon hugs the kids, ruffles their hair, asks them things people usually ask kids like when did they get so tall or if they’re having fun. Ryan is about to ask Brendon who are these kids when an adult figure appears, although Ryan should admit he didn’t notice it was an adult until they were very close.
“Brendon, you came! Kids, leave Brendon alone, will you? He’ll go play with you guys in a minute.”
“Hey, Patrick. This is Ryan,” Brendon introduces him, and Ryan shakes Patrick’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, Ryan.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
So this is Patrick. Brendon had talked about Patrick before, and Z too, since she knows him, but Ryan would have never imagined him like this. This guy, this blonde, short guy looks more like a life size teddy bear than anything. His blue eyes are soft and his smile is sweet, almost like his voice. Ryan can’t picture this guy giving orders.
“Come on in, almost everyone is here already.”
Ryan feels somehow safer when Brendon holds his hand, grabs it tight before walking in, Brendon is so outgoing Ryan was afraid he would disappear the moment they would get to the party. He didn’t. He’s there, and Ryan can close his eyes and breathe.
There aren’t too many people, maybe thirty, forty, and about ten of them are kids screaming and jumping and laughing. It’s not the kind of birthday party Ryan had expected, but now he understands why Pete and Patrick celebrate two kinds of parties.
“What’s with the kids?” Ryan asks when they’re walking around the back yard after meeting the birthday boy, Brendon greeting some people, introducing Ryan.
“Oh, Patrick and Pete like to celebrate their birthdays with their kids, so it’s fair to let other people bring their children too, that way the little ones don’t get too bored around adults.”
“They have kids?”
“Oh, yeah. Three of those little monsters are theirs. Actually, this is funny, I met Patrick and Pete years ago at the club, but we didn’t… I was a kid, we spent the night talking, and I guess Patrick took pity on me. They ended up hiring me to take care of their children.”
“So you were a nanny?” Ryan smiles, and Brendon laughs, nodding. They walk in silence for a few seconds, Ryan glancing at Pete, then at Patrick, watching how they talk to people, how they behave. “Are they…?”
“They’re married, like legally, but also…” Brendon looks around before he speaks again, not lower but closer to Ryan. “Pete’s collared and everything.”
“Oh.”
Ryan has never met a couple like that. He’s met married couples, of course, some of his childhood friends are married now, they have kids, the usual, but he’s never met someone who has been collared. If marrying someone was a huge commitment, marrying within the BDSM community, collaring someone was a much bigger deal. He hasn’t even met someone who has talked about wanting it, not even Z and she’s the most classic Domme Ryan has ever known.
“He’s not wearing a collar, though,” Ryan notices. Pete’s neck is naked, and he’s not wearing anything Ryan would associate with being someone’s property.
“He’s wearing his wedding ring,” Brendon says, smiling at Ryan. “You see, Pete’s an attorney, he wouldn’t be able to get away with wearing something too noticeable without people… well, noticing. So his ring is just fine when he’s in public. Patrick doesn’t like bringing BDSM elements into their public life anyway. He says that would be like forcing everyone who notices Pete’s status as a submissive to participate in their dynamic. Also he wouldn’t like if people who aren’t into it assumed things about Pete that are not true.”
“That makes sense.”
“It took me a while to understand it, that you should share your kinks with people who understand them. Like, it’s not the same you hurting me because you know I want it than you hurting me regardless of what I think. The same with people watching. It’s different watching a Dom humiliate their sub, knowing it’s their dynamic, than watching some guy humiliate his partner. The meaning changes.”
It’s true. It’s totally true. The meaning changes when you can see the whole picture, when you understand every part of it. It’s like you can see the same world with a new set of eyes. Now that he’s got new information, it’s obvious there is something between Pete and Patrick, something Ryan can’t tell but he can see, he can feel it. Maybe it’s the way they look at each other or the way they talk to each other, the way Pete always looks at Patrick right after telling a joke to see if he’s laughing, the way Patrick always laugh at them although, honestly, they’re not that funny, the way Pete is super attentive asking Patrick all the time if he needs something, if he wants a refill, if he likes the music.
He pays attention to the pet names Patrick uses, how he calls Pete sweetheart, honey, things like that. He wonders how those pet names translate into their alone time, their play time, if those ‘sweetheart’ and ‘honey’ are really a cover up for ‘slut’ and ‘fucktoy’, or maybe Patrick really uses ‘sweetheart’ and ‘honey’ in bed too, maybe that’s his game, sweet pet names and painful bruises.
Ryan laughs at himself when he looks at Brendon and some images cross his mind, Brendon behaving like that, Brendon behaving, period. He’s almost forgotten what the word ‘behave’ means, every time he’s used it to make Brendon do something he’s earned the exact opposite reaction. Brendon doesn’t like behaving, he doesn’t like to be tamed.
“Have you ever thought of that? Someday having what they have?” Ryan asks, pointing at the couple with his eyes. Brendon laughs and shakes his head.
“No. I used to, when I was younger, but just because I thought that was the right thing to do, that was what I had to do,” Brendon says, and Ryan listens closely. “No I know it’s not something I want or I’ll ever want. It’s just not me.”
“Hmm.” Ryan just nods. If that’s what Brendon thinks, then he’ll respect it. He can’t change his mind nor he intends to. It’s too soon anyway, to think about what he wants in the future, if Brendon will be in that future, so it doesn’t matter what Ryan feels now. It’s true seeing Pete and Patrick living happily ever after makes him wonder how would it be, to settle down, to have a family, to share everything, including his deepest secrets, with someone else, with someone who understands him, with someone who likes every part of him and wants it. He never thought about it because he never thought about the possibility, but he has to admit it’s a nice feeling, it’s a nice view.
It doesn’t matter anyway.
“Hey, they’re cutting the birthday cake!” Brendon grabs Ryan’s arm and pulls. “Let’s go!”