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"This is nice ,” TK says as Carlos leads him into the restaurant. The ceilings are high, and the lights are dim, every table lit by candles.
"Yeah," Carlos responds, kissing him on the cheek. "Thought it would be fun to get dressed up and bring you somewhere fancy, you know?"
"Do you have a reservation?" the hostess asks as they approach the desk at the front of the restaurant.
Carlos nods. "Reyes-Strand? Party of two."
The woman smiles politely, gesturing for them to follow her. "Right this way."
A moment later, they're seated in the back corner of the restaurant. And if the rest of the place is dark and moody? Their table is practically pitch black, almost entirely hidden from view.
Not that TK is complaining. It gives him a pretty damn good impression as to what's about to happen. His dear husband Carlos isn't taking him out for a nice, romantic dinner. No. His Dom —his Sir , his Daddy —is taking him out to publicly ruin him.
"TK, why don't you run to the restroom?" Carlos suggests, sliding a small silky bag across the table. TK's eyes go wide. He reaches out to snatch it, but Carlos doesn't lift his hand. "What do we say, TK?"
"Thank you, Sir," he tries, and Carlos immediately removes his hand. With that, TK takes the bag, darting as quickly as he can to the bathroom.
He slams the stall door shut behind him—thankfully, it's a full door—and opens the bag. Inside is a small black plug and a travel-sized bottle of lube. The plug is familiar; Carlos loves to have him put it in when TK doesn't have a shift but Carlos does, playing around with it for hours and watching the app that syncs to the fitness wristband TK wears just for those sorts of games.
He unbuttons his pants and pulls them down with his underwear, then slicks his fingers with lube and braces himself against the wall. They'd fucked that morning, and TK had spent quite a while making sure he was as clean as could be for their nice evening out, but... Not being careful enough with preparation is always something Carlos is ready to punish him for.
So he takes his time anyway, one finger, then two, spreading them and brushing them over his prostate, then three. Slowly, carefully, thoroughly. He has to make Carlos proud of him for being well behaved. He knows he brats far, far more than any submissive Carlos has had in the past, and while Carlos clearly enjoys putting him in his place… he planned such a nice night out. TK owes it to him to be good.
After several long minutes, he finally deems himself ready for the plug. Granted, Carlos would probably make him stretch himself even more, just for the sake of tormenting him, but luckily, Carlos is outside the restroom.
He shivers as he presses it to his hole, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Slowly, he slides it in until the widest part is inside of him, then pushes the base until it touches his hole.
Again, he has to take a moment to just breathe, overwhelmed both from the sensation and the excitement for what Carlos has prepared. He loves Carlos so, so much, and he'll never get over the perfectly planned scenes that his Daddy likes to spring on him at random.
Once he catches his breath, he reaches behind himself, pressing the 'on' button on the plug, and pulls his pants back up.
Their drinks are already on the table—a glass of white wine for Carlos and some sort of sparkling beverage for him. He sits down awkwardly, squirming as the plug presses against his prostate, and dips his head slightly to Carlos. He will behave tonight. He's going to make Carlos proud.
"Welcome back, baby. Everything alright?" he asks.
TK opens his mouth, but before he can speak, the plug in his ass buzzes, strong and sudden, and his hands drop heavily to the table.
"Y-yes, Sir," he stammers, voice halting and unsteady. "I-I—Thank you, Sir."
The vibrations stop, and Carlos smiles. "Good boy. Now, try your drink."
TK obliges, stirring it for just a second before taking a sip. He smiles; it's fizzy, just the slightest bit sweet, and perfectly minty. "Thank you, Sir," he says and takes another sip.
Carlos loves getting him fancy drinks, especially before, after, and even during play. Just because you don't drink, that doesn't mean you can't have good drinks , Carlos always insists.
"You're welcome. Now," he starts, reaching across the table and laying his hand palm-up. TK rests his own hand in Carlos', and he continues, "Do you want me to order for you? Or would you like to order on your own?"
TK pretends to think for just a moment, but he's already made up his mind. "Will you please order for me, Daddy?"
Carlos squeezes TK's hand. "Of course."
For the next several minutes, they just talk, as if this dinner is exactly the same as any other. Carlos doesn't even go near the controls to the plug until the waiter comes out.
Then, as soon as the waiter speaks, Carlos drops TK's hand and turns the toy on, buzzing so hard that he can barely keep himself quiet. He can't even hear the exchange, doesn't even know what Carlos ordered for either of them. He's far too focused on keeping himself composed and quiet, on behaving for Carlos. It's awful. He's always been horrible at keeping himself quiet, and Carlos is going out of his way to make him slip up.
But he won't. He refuses. He won't mess up, and he won't misbehave.
So, when the vibrations drop down to almost nothing, he doesn't whine or complain. Instead, he takes a sip of his drink, and tries to listen. Then it goes up all the way, and he chokes on his drink, coughing hard and grabbing his napkin to try to muffle himself.
The waiter gives him a strange look as he turns to leave, and TK can just barely squeak out an apology before Carlos is, once again, bringing the vibration strength all the way down, then back up.
"You stayed pretty quiet, didn't you?" Carlos coos at him once again
"Thank you, Sir," TK breathes, still trying to keep his expression level. His cock is so, so hard in his dress pants, and squeezing his legs together only helps so much.
Carlos reaches across the table, putting his hand on TK's cheek. "How are you doing, baby?" he asks, running his thumb along his jaw. "We haven't done anything like this in a minute. How are you holding up?"
TK nods slightly, leaning harder into Carlos' hand. "I'm doing okay. A little nervous. Fancy restaurants are...a lot."
"Hey. We can stop whenever you want to," Carlos assures him. "Just say the word, and we can leave. Or you can go to the bathroom, take it out, and we can finish dinner, minus play."
"I know. I promise, I do. I'll let you know if it's too much, alright?"
Carlos looks visibly reassured. He's always a worrier, when it comes to TK. About everything, really, but he views it as his duty to care for TK and to make sure he's always alright.
"I love you, Carlos," he says, emphasizing his name. He adores his Dom, but sometimes his husband needs reassurance. "You don't have to worry."
"Thank you," Carlos whispers back. "You know, you're being so good today. What happened to my brat?"
TK grins and attempts to lick the hand that's still pressed to his cheek. Carlos yanks it away before he can, glaring. "He's still in here. I thought you'd be happy that I put the brat away for the evening?"
Carlos rolls his eyes. "I am. It's just different, baby. Not bad."
The next thirty minutes pass in somewhat of a blur. Their appetizers arrive, a burrata salad and a plate of seared tuna, and they slowly work through them, with Carlos feeding TK from his own fork, rather than allowing him to eat on his own. And the whole time, the plug stays on the lowest possible setting.
When the entrees come out, it really starts to get fun. Two plates are placed on their table, lamb for Carlos, and lobster for TK, and the waiter refills both of their drinks. Carlos thanks him, and he hurries away.
"Try a bite," Carlos instructs, and TK does. As always when Carlos picks the food, it's amazing—his husband has fantastic taste in restaurants, and TK hasn't been disappointed in a single place they’ve gone to together.
"It's good, Daddy," he says and quickly takes another bite onto his fork, holding it out for Carlos to try. His husband takes his wrist to guide the food into his mouth, smiling widely when TK laughs.
"Yeah, it is. I'm glad you like it, babe."
Carlos holds out a bite of his lamb, and TK takes it. "I like that, too, Sir."
"Hmm... I know something else you might like," Carlos tells him. TK raises an eyebrow; then, all of a sudden, he feels something brush up against his inner thigh. "Don't look," Carlos demands, and TK's eyes snap up to his face.
Carlos presses a button on his phone just as the something he now recognizes as Carlos' socked foot touches his cock, and the vibe in his ass turns all the way back up. TK barely stifles a whimper, covering his mouth once again with a napkin to hide any noises.
"Eat, TK," Carlos demands. "Don't be rude."
So TK does. One small bite and a sip of his drink, as Carlos firmly massages his cock through his pants, thankfully hidden by the draped tablecloth. The vibrations move up and down in intensity as he tries to eat, making him shiver and hump against Carlos' foot.
Carlos doesn't seem nearly as bothered; he eats like he normally does, as if TK isn't melting into a puddle just across the table from him.
"You look a bit hot, baby," Carlos teases once they're about halfway done. "Everything okay?"
No , TK wants to say. And, on any normal occasion, he would say it, letting Carlos have every bit of brattiness he could muster up. But he's behaving tonight. He's being good. So instead, he says, "Yes, Daddy. Everything's wonderful. It's just...warm in here."
"Aww. Poor baby. We can head to the bathroom before dessert, if you'd like." Carlos punctuates his sentence with a much firmer grind against his dick. "Dab a bit of water on your forehead, get you all cooled down."
It only takes a second to process what Carlos is saying. "Yes, Sir. I'd like that a lot, Sir."
He eats much faster after that. Still quite slowly, in an effort to avoid choking on lobster as a result of Carlos' little game, but he has a goal now. To get fucked in a restaurant bathroom.
Between Carlos' foot and the plug in his ass, he's not sure how he finishes dinner without coming in his pants. But he does, by some miracle, and as he takes the last bite of his lobster, he damn near throws his cutlery onto his plate.
"Daddy, I'm done now," he announces. "May I get up to go to the restroom, Sir?"
Carlos nods. "Go ahead. I'll be there in just a moment."
The second permission is granted, he stands up, hands crossed awkwardly over his crotch to try to conceal his erection from the rest of the diners. The darkness helps, although their table's distance from the restroom doesn't. Thankfully, he gets there without incident and quickly shuts himself into one of the stalls.
He strips his pants off, leaving his shirt on, and takes the plug from his hole, slipping it back into its silky bag.
Carlos only takes another couple of minutes to get there, but it feels like hours. When he knocks on the stall door, TK nearly jumps out of his skin.
"Baby," Carlos whispers. "It's me. Open up?"
TK slams the door open, dragging Carlos in excitedly and jumping on him with kisses. "Hi, Daddy," he greets. "Are you gonna fuck me now?"
"Hey, hey ," Carlos laughs, grabbing his face and pushing him back. "Slow down. Besides, who said I was going to fuck you?"
Instantly, TK's face falls. He thought that was the whole point. Why would Carlos bring him out, play with him all night, and then bring him into the bathroom if he didn't plan on fucking him? "Please?" he begs. "I've tried to be so good, Sir, please fuck me?"
Carlos grins and kisses him on the nose. "I'm not going to fuck you. But I am going to eat your cute little ass."
TK's heart races, his mouth open. "Oh. Oh . Yes, please, Sir."
"Turn around, babe," Carlos instructs, kneeling on the floor as TK does. He grabs TK's ass, massaging his cheeks as he spreads them apart and leans in, pressing a soft, sloppy kiss to his hole.
He can't stifle the noise he makes at that. Or when Carlos licks a broad, slow stripe across his hole. And definitely not when Carlos' tongue pushes into his loose hole, fucking in and out just like Carlos would with his cock.
His husband's obsession with all things related to his ass is beyond incredible. Every single time Carlos eats him out, it's like the man has been starved of all sustenance, determined to make TK come on his tongue alone.
"Fuck—fuck, babe— Daddy —" TK moans, shutting his eyes tightly and pressing his forehead to the tile wall. "Sir, your tongue, holy fuck. Please, keep going—"
Carlos pulls back slightly, blowing onto his spit-slick hole. TK squirms and giggles in response, rocking his hips back in an attempt to get Carlos' tongue back on him. And luckily, Carlos obliges with no hesitation.
Suddenly, he hears two deep voices, clearly just down the short hall to the bathroom.
TK panics. “Daddy,” he whines, breath shaky. “Daddy, someone’s coming.”
Carlos lifts his face, whispering just as quietly. “So?”
“They’re going to hear us.”
Just like that, Carlos' commanding, mean tone is back. “I’m not making a sound, and I don’t care if they hear you. If you decide to scream on my tongue, that’s on you. I’m not forcing you to moan like that. So be quiet or get over it.”
With that, he dives right back in, tongue fucking TK’s hole even deeper than before. TK moans helplessly right as the door opens. Then it slams shut.
The voices continue their conversation, none the wiser as to what's going on in the nearby stall. Again, TK feels a rush of gratitude toward whoever decided to make the stall doors floor-to-ceiling, preventing them from getting caught quite so easily.
But Carlos seems to like the idea of being found out, if the fervor he puts into licking and sucking at TK's hole is anything to go by.
Carlos slips one finger in beside his tongue, and TK can't help letting a soft, high gasp slip as Carlos rubs right against his prostate.
"You hear something?" one of the men asks. TK bites his tongue hard, desperate to keep quiet.
"What? No," the other says.
"Swear I heard something."
"It's pretty windy out. Probably just a tree or some shit."
The first man sighs. "Maybe. Let's just head out, alright?"
Footsteps echo through the bathroom, and they leave. And TK can finally take a breath.
"Daddy, we almost got caught," TK grumbles, turning slightly to glance back at Carlos.
"Again, you almost got caught. Because you couldn't stay quiet," Carlos tells him, adding a second finger to replace his tongue.
TK groans, rocking his hips forward and bumping his drooling cock against the tile. "You're mean."
Carlos hums, pressing another kiss to his hole. "Don't act like you don't love it."
"I do. I love it when you’re mean. Can you please keep eating me out now, Sir, before someone else comes in?"
Carlos laughs and leans back in, licking right beside his fingers. TK exhales, shivering in pleasure. Then he reaches a hand around, rubbing at the head of his dick and smearing pre-come all over his hand, before wrapping it around TK's cock. It's perfect—just what he needs to reach the edge.
It only takes a few strokes for him to come, clenching down tight on Carlos' fingers and tongue as come streaks across the tile. His legs go wobbly and unsteady, and Carlos barely manages to stand and support him before he topples over completely.
"Hey, baby. I've got you," Carlos whispers, tugging his pants up and tucking his now soft cock back in before re-buttoning them. Then, he carefully guides TK to sit on the closed toilet seat. "You take a breath, I'll clean this up."
TK exhales deeply, then inhales as he watches Carlos carefully wipe the semen from the wall. His whole body feels boneless and weak, and all he wants is for Carlos to hold him.
"Daddy?" he asks, voice quiet and hoarse. Carlos turns to look at him, and he goes on. "Can we skip dessert and just...go home? I need you to hold me. Please."
"Yeah, baby. Of course. What do you think took me so long?" TK raises an eyebrow, and Carlos moves to kiss him on the nose. "I was taking care of the check, babe. I didn't think you'd be able to handle dessert."
His heart flutters, and tears sting his eyes. Carlos knows him so, so impossibly well. And loves him even better. "Thank you, Sir."
"No problem. Now, let's get you up and head home, okay? The puppy might love Nancy, but I don't think Mateo will be thrilled when she comes home covered in the cats' hair."
TK laughs. "No. I don't think so."
In one smooth motion, Carlos pulls TK to his feet, letting him lean heavily against him as they leave the restaurant and head to the car. Before Carlos starts the car to drive, TK leans over, pressing his forehead to his husband's shoulder.
"Thank you, Carlos," he whispers. Before Carlos can respond, TK is out like a light, curled up in his seat and breathing deeply.