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“So has he asked you to whip him, yet?” Jack smirks over his whiskey.
Grace freezes, his vodka cranberry halfway up to his lips. He looks incredulously at Jack, who’s grinning at him in the sharp, slightly mean way he does when he knows he’s getting under Grace’s skin. It’s a Friday night and Jack convinced Grace to join him and Simon at their favorite bar, a little hole in the wall place where they can tuck themselves into the cluster of couches in the corner beside the dartboard. Even on a Friday night, the bar is about as crowded as it gets and Grace is still able to see across it to where Simon is entering the bathroom. Of course Jack would use that as an opportunity to pounce on Grace.
“What?” Grace asks, trying to resist the urge to fidget, not wanting to give Jack the satisfaction. He’s only known Jack for a few months and he likes the guy, for the most part. He’s good company. Grace has been going out on weekends more times in the last few months than in his life because of Jack, and he’s genuinely enjoying himself. More importantly, Jack has been a good friend to Simon for years, long before Grace met him a few months prior, and even though Jack and Simon are no longer dating he clearly still cares about him. But he also has a certain… edge to him. Like he’s always looking for a tender spot to poke at. Simon seems to appreciate that about him. Grace finds it a little intimidating.
Jack’s grin sharpens.
“Oh, come on!” he drawls, his Irish accent showing through. “I know you’re a sweetheart but Simon must have asked you to at least spank him by now, right?”
Grace tries to school his expression. Jack’s eyes twinkle with amusement. Darn it, no success there. Grace takes a sip from his drink to buy himself time.
“He… asked me to pull his hair,” Grace finally admits. Jack’s grin widens, exposing sharp canines.
“And did you?” Jack sips his whiskey, enjoying himself way too much. Grace leans back, fidgets a bit despite his best efforts. He could refuse to answer, of course, and Jack would respect that. He’s a little mean, but he’s not cruel.
“A little,” Grace eventually concedes.
“A little??” Jack cackles.
“I didn’t want to hurt him!” Graces defends himself.
“Well I’ve got news for you, laddie, Simon absolutely does!” Jack says gleefully. He only calls Grace ‘laddie’ when he’s having a fun time messing with him. Great.
“But…” Grace sputters, still trying to school his expression. “But why?? Hasn’t he suffered enough?”
Simon only opened up to Grace about what he had endured growing up in the Sons of Eden last month when he woke up sobbing from a nightmare. Grace was horrified. He’s still horrified. He’s amazed that Simon could be so gentle after everything he went through. He wants to help Simon put all that behind him, move on and heal. Why would he just put more hurt on top of everything Simon has gone through?
Jack’s grin softens from teasing into genuinely kind.
“It’s not that simple with folks like us,” he says. Grace knows that Jack and Simon met in a support group for people deconstructing from religious trauma, something very alien to Grace’s vaguely Christian agnostic upbringing.
“How do you mean?” Grace asks, leaning forward in his seat, eager for anything that can help him understand Simon better.
“Well,” Jack takes a sip from his whiskey. “It’s a little hard to explain. It’s like…” Jack ponders for a moment, choosing his words carefully as he swirls the whiskey around the glass. “It’s like growing up knowing a really obvious thing about the world, and then one day you step outside and no one else has even thought about it. Does that make sense?”
“Maybe?” Grace admits. “I think I need a little more context.”
Jack nods and thinks a bit more before speaking again.
“Now, this is only coming from a strict Irish Catholic background, so it’s nothing like what Simon went through...” Jack begins. From what Grace has heard, calling Jack’s upbringing ‘strict’ is underselling it, but it still wasn’t close to being as cruel as Simon’s. “When you get religious nutjobs, they’re miserable. It’s, like, a natural consequence of being a crazy bastard, your life sucks. So instead of question why their lives suck, they decide that it’s a sign that they’re doing things right, so they want to make everyone else understand that. So you get a bunch of psychos teaching kids that suffering is good, and that’s hard to unlearn.”
“What are you guys talking about?”
Grace hadn’t even noticed Simon returning from the restroom, but here he is, taking his seat beside Grace on the couch, his big hand sliding comfortably onto Grace’s thigh. Grace slides his arm around Simon’s shoulder, already second nature. This bar may be relatively calm, but it’s still a bit more than what Grace is used to. The physical contact with Simon helps calm him down.
“Oh, we’re just talking about how being raised by religious nutjobs turned you and me into a couple of perverts,” Jack says, the gleeful grin back onto his face. Simon scowls.
“Jack!” he snaps. Jack’s grin just sharpens.
“Oh, come on, Simey!” he teases. “You’ve been with this tall drink of water for, what, six months and you still haven’t asked for anything more fun than a little hair pulling? I’m doing you a favor!”
“Look, Grace isn’t…” Simon growls. “He’s not into that, okay?”
“Oh, come off it, Simon,” Jack’s grin softens again. “Grace isn’t a prude. He’s not going to get scared off just cause you’re a bit odd.”
“He’s right,” Grace quickly adds, meeting Simon’s concerned gaze. “I’m not gonna, like, freak out if you’re into stuff I don’t get. I wanna know more about you, Starshine.”
Grace smiles encouragingly, and Simon relaxes a little.
“Okay, Angel, but if you get uncomfortable just say something and I’ll shut this leprechaun up,” Simon says. Jack affects an indignant expression.
“Oh, I’d like to see you try, Kraut!” he cackles. Grace smiles at their banter.
“Okay,” Grace says. “So you were talking about religious trauma.” Jack chuckles at that.
“You wanna start, Simey?” Jack teases.
“Don’t call me that,” Simon responds, no heat behind his words, before turning his attention to Grace. “So, uh, what do you want to know?”
“Well, I guess the thing I don’t get is why you’d want to get hurt after getting hurt so much growing up,” Grace says. Simon nods and thinks for a moment, taking a sip from his Moscow mule. Grace loves how thoughtful Simon is. He doesn’t just jump into talking like Grace does, he sits and thinks and Grace loves to see him think. Last week he told Grace that it’s a habit he built to help him with anger management. Grace loves watching it even more now.
“Okay,” he eventually begins. “So, I’m a masochist.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Jack snarks. Simon levels a glare at him across the table between them, and Jack holds up a hand in mock surrender as he takes another sip of his whiskey.
“So I’m a masochist,” Simon begins again. “Growing up, pain was, like, an everyday thing. Random spankings, beatings just cause someone had a bad day. Shit like that. I just had to accept that I was gonna get hurt by someone for some arbitrary reason that I didn’t understand. It was just how life was.”
Grace bends the arm around Simon’s shoulder so that he can card his fingers through his hair the way he knows is soothing for Simon.
“And it sucked,” Simon continues, leaning into the touch. “It sucked really bad. But I also got, like, used to it. Proud of how well I could handle it. When I got out of Eden, I still, like, expected it, and when it didn’t happen I got antsy. Like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I wanted the other shoe to drop. It’s probably why I was such a good fit for the military. I just wanted the abuse.”
Grace frowns in sympathy. He begins to gently drag his fingers across Simon’s scalp.
“But yeah, I got back from my tour and I was just as bad as before. Maybe worse. Then I met Jack in our support group and we hit it off.”
“Yeah, us perverted fags gotta stick together,” Jack nods solemnly, holding up his whiskey in a toast. Simon nods in agreement.
“And, well, one night Jack, uhh…” Simon pauses for a moment, uncertain.
“You can say it, Simon,” Jack smirks. “I spanked the fuck out of you and you came harder than you’d ever cum before.”
“It…” Simon scowls at Jack, who smiles seraphically back at him. Simon turns his attention to Grace, ignoring Jack for the moment. “It was more complicated than that, but yeah, that’s kinda the gist of it. I was freaked out by it for a while, thought it was just a sign that I was broken, but I eventually talked to my therapist about it and she helped me work through it.”
Grace has never met Simon’s therapist, but he bears an ever growing debt of gratitude to her for helping Simon heal from everything he went through. He drags his fingernails gently across Simon’s scalp. Simon hums into the touch for a moment before continuing.
“So, yeah, she helped me figure out that it’s about, like, taking charge of an experience.” Across from them, Jack nods in agreement with Simon. “Growing up, pain was just this arbitrary thing that people stronger than me inflicted on me for no reason. But with Jack, it has rules. It’s not a punishment. It’s, like, a chance to see how far I can go, how much I can take.”
“It becomes an exercise in strength,” Grace offers up, beginning to understand. Simon’s eyes light up and he nods eagerly.
“Exactly!” The relief on his face that Grace is beginning to understand where he’s coming from is evident.
“I think it might also tie into ADHD,” Grace continues. Simon tilts his head in interest, and Jack leans forward slightly.
“How so?” Simon asks. Across from them, Jack takes another sip of his whiskey.
“Well, you know how ADHD is because our brains struggle with emotional regulation?” Grace begins, sliding easily into teacher mode. Simon nods. “Well, that has to do with its ability to produce the hormones that regulate reward enforcement, so ADHD folks like us tend to seek out careers or experiences that offer a lot of stimulation. You know, constant things happening around us for our brains to work with. Like working in emergency rooms.”
“Or being a middle school teacher,” Jack add, only a little teasing.
“Exactly!” Grace acknowledges. “Pain triggers adrenaline production, which is something that isn’t hampered by ADHD, so it’s a consistent way to get those feelings. Plus, when the body experiences pain, it releases endorphins. It’s why we like spicy food. Same mechanism. Experience controlled pain, get a little reward after it.”
The concentration on Simon’s face is intense. Grace loves the slight frown that Simon develops when he’s thinking hard about something. There’s something incredibly endearing about it. A little petulant, a little grouchy, but extremely thoughtful. Gentle. He drags his fingers through Simon’s hair.
“That… makes a lot of sense…” Simon eventually says.
“Damn,” Jack agrees. “It really does! I guess that’s the benefit to dating a scientist, huh?”
Grace rolls his eyes fondly.
“So…” Simon speaks up apprehensively. “What do you think?”
Grace opens his mouth, but stops himself for a moment before responding. His fingers pause in Simon’s hair.
“I…” he thinks over his words. “I’m glad you shared that with me. Like, really glad you felt able to share that with me. I hadn’t thought about it that way before, but it makes a lot of sense. But…” Graces pauses again, not wanting to phrase things wrong. “I don’t think I have it in me to hurt you, consensually or not.”
Simon nods, hiding his disappointment almost well enough for Grace to miss. Grace strokes his fingers through Simon’s hair again.
“Ah, don’t be such a quitter!” Jack teases, capturing their attention again. “You may be a sweetheart, but I bet we can make a sadist out of you yet!”
“Jack…” Simon warns gently. Jack shakes his head lightly.
“Okay, okay, I was mostly teasing there, but never say never, right? I mean, you said you were able to tug his hair a little, right?”
“Uh, yeah?” Grace says, stilling his hand in Simon’s hair again.
“Well, let’s start there. Why don’t you give him a little yank, Gracie?” Jack suggests with a smirk.
“Jack…” Simon warns again.
“I’m not forcing him to do anything,” Jack counters. “If he tells me to stop, I’ll stop and that’ll be that. He knows that, right, Grace?”
Grace nods after a moment.
“So… like, just a tug?” Grace asks. Simon turns his head toward him, suddenly alert. He nods slightly.
Grace clenches his loose fingers in Simon’s long hair, right at the juncture where his scalp meets the back of his head. Simon’s body is tense against Grace’s.
“Like this?” Grace asks. Simon’s lips part, unable or unwilling to nod with his head securely grasped.
“Yeah…” he mutters. Grace has never seen Simon quite like this. Alert. Vibrating with anticipation. He’s beginning to see the appeal.
He gives a gentle tug, and Simon’s eyes slide shut as his head tilts back, following the motion.
“Ah, come on!” Jack taunts. “Put away the kid gloves! Simon’s a tough boy, he can take it!”
Grace takes a moment to glare at Jack, who grins toothily at him, before returning his attention to Simon, who is still relaxed and pliant in his grip.
He tightens his grip, and Simon inhales steadily as the tension on his scalp increases, then exhales smoothly. Grace braces the heel of his palm against Simon’s skull and tugs sharply up with a flick of his wrist.
Simon inhales sharply through his nose, his grip on Grace’s thigh tightening. His face scrunches slightly in discomfort, then gently slides into an easy grin, his whole body relaxing against Grace’s.
Oh. Okay. Grace can definitely see where the appeal in all this is.
He slacks his grip in Simon’s hair, carding his fingers through thick strands to drag his nails comfortingly over the skin. Simon’s eyes slide open and he grins lazily at Grace.
“Oh ho ho!” Jack finally breaks the silence. “What’d I tell ya? We’ll make a sadist out of you yet!”
Grace chuckles as Simon tilts his head onto his shoulder.
“I don’t know if I’d go quite that far, but I can definitely see a bit of the appeal,” Grace admits.
“Really?” Jack says, looking genuinely intrigued.
“Yeah,” Grace says as Simon snuggles against his shoulder. “I don’t think I could go so far as to, like, whip him or anything, but, I mean, he obviously enjoyed that, and I enjoyed seeing him enjoy it.”
“What about it did you enjoy?” Jack asks, his attention locked on Grace.
“I guess…” Grace thinks for a moment. “I guess I liked having a bit of control over him? Like, getting to take control of him for a second to make him happy. And if just that little tug made him that happy, then wow!”
Simon hums happily, snuggling his head playfully against Grace’s shoulder. Grace can tell that he’s playing it up a bit, and that makes him smile. Simon only lets himself be a little goofy when he trusts people. Wait, trust…
“There’s more…” Grace says, and Simon lifts his head from Grace’s shoulder, recognizing the sound of Grace working out something interesting. “It’s… it’s exciting to know that Simon trusts me enough to let himself be vulnerable. Like, it’s a responsibility that I’ve been given, and that responsibility is to make Simon happy, and it’s not the kind of responsibility that fills me with dread, it’s one that I can fulfill happily, and that’s not something I get much in daily life.”
He meets Simon’s eyes, and the gentle, adoring look in them makes him melt into a smile.
“Damn,” Jack says, and Grace feels a surge of pride at how impressed he sounds. “You’ve got the makings of a damn good dom, Gracie!”
Grace isn’t sure how to feel about that, but it seems like a good thing.
“I’m willing to step outside my usual comfort zone to make Simon happy,” Grace responds to Jack as the man finishes the last of his whiskey. “My therapist says that stepping outside my comfort zone more in controlled ways is a good idea, and the fact that I’d be doing it for Simon will make it a treat instead of a chore. So, yeah.”
“Hey,” Simon says, grabbing Grace’s attention before capturing his mouth in a gentle kiss. He pulls back and smiles softly. “Thanks.”
“Alright, you love birds, leave some air for the rest of us” Jack teases. “Looks like we’ve got a session zero to set up!”
“A what?” Grace asks.
-----------
It’s a few days later, and the three of them are in the living room of Simon’s apartment. Being an engineer pays mighty well, making it a much more suitable place to gather than Grace’s fairly unimpressive one bedroom place. It’s also much cleaner. Simon is always uncomfortable when his own space is messy, and Grace is beginning to suspect that that may be related to his abusive upbringing, but Simon never seems unhappy cleaning his apartment, so he leaves it be.
Grace and Simon sit on Simon’s heavenly couch, across from Jack in the recliner. A pizza box sits on the coffee table between them, Simon having conscientiously slipped a trivet under the box before Jack put it down to protect the wood. Grace is glad to have Jack here. He’s been a little bit nervous about the session zero, so he’s grateful to have an experienced dom there to help guide the conversation.
“So,” Grace figures he might as well rip the bandaid off now. “How do we start?”
“You want me to lead?” Jack asks Simon, who nods as he takes a bite of pizza. “Okay, so since you’ve never really thought of BDSM before, we’re gonna do things a little differently. Usually, I’d have told a newcomer to have done some homework before session zero to make a list of the things you’re interested in, but I imagine that’d be a bit daunting for you.”
Graces nods, grateful for Jack’s consideration.
“Plus you probably have your fill of homework at your day job,” Jack quips, causing Simon to chuckle beside Grace. “So instead we’re gonna go over the stuff that Simon likes, get your feelings on that, and then see what questions you have from there. Sound good?”
“Yes, that sounds perfect,” Grace says, relieved.
“Good,” Jack says through a mouthful of pizza. “Alright,” he swallows. “First off, BDSM is about communication. That’s why we’re doing this to set groundwork, so that there’s a clear set of boundaries and guidelines to follow. Communication needs to occur regularly during the course of a scene to ensure that everyone is still enjoying themselves, so that’ll involve stuff like safe words, signals, that sorta stuff, we will get to that later. What’s important is that we’re speaking and listening to each other. Good so far?”
“Yeah, that makes perfect sense,” Grace says, feeling more relaxed. Clear boundaries and guidelines sound incredible. He was dreading the idea that he might have to just blunder his way through this like most social interactions. The idea of having unambiguous do’s and don’t’s sounds amazing.
“Good,” Jack continues. “So at the core of of BDSM are three tenets: Safe, Sane, and Consensual,” Jack counts them out on his fingers. “Safe means we’re watching out for each other’s physical and emotional well-being. Communicating our feelings, not taking stupid risks, setting clear boundaries, that stuff. Sane means we’re doing things in a sound, sober state of mind. So we’re not drunk, we’re not violating boundaries or doing things we know will actually harm each other’s feelings. And Consensual is pretty self explanatory, we’re maintaining ongoing consent, no coercion, no guilting, no forcing yourself to do something you don’t wanna do.”
“Also,” Simon adds, “we’re going into this as people who care about each other, so the assumption is that we’re doing our best to adhere to these tenets, so if a mistake happens, it’s not the end of the world. Or even necessarily the end of the scene.”
Grace nods. This sounds way less intimidating than he thought.
“Oh!” Jack pipes up. “You wanna tell him about the cigarette thing? That’d be a good example to highlight that.”
“Yeah, why not?” Simon agrees. “So, early on in our relationship, when Jack and I were still kinda skirting around the idea of BDSM, we were smoking weed on my balcony and I mentioned my cigarette scar.” Simon lifts his sleeve to show the small, circular scar that Grace has noticed before. “I first got the scar back when I was a kid and one of the prayer leaders put a cigarette out on me because I annoyed him.”
“Dang,” Grace says lamely. Luckily, Simon knows him well enough to smile at his lameness.
“Yeah. I had never told anyone about that scar before, and I fucking hated it. It reminded me of that bastard. And then Jack says…” Simon nods over to Jack, who grins and leans forward, pretending to hold a joint between his fingers.
“You want a new scar on top of that?” he drawls.
Grace thinks for a moment.
“Wait, did you-?”
“Yep!” Jack chuckles. “Put my joint out right on top of that old fucker’s mark!”
“Which absolutely was not a sane action,” Simon says fondly. “But I liked it at the time because it was a way to reclaim a part of my body, and I still like it because now the scar reminds me of Jack. And honestly? I’d probably let him do it again, since that’s a boundary that we’ve worked out together. The point is that BDSM requires you to recognize that your partner is human. Mistakes will happen. If you do something that I don’t want you to do, I won’t hate you. I’ll tell you what happened, knowing that you’ll correct your mistake, and we will move on from there.”
Grace smiles ruefully.
“Was it that obvious that I was nervous?” he quips.
“Only extremely,” Jack teases. Simon tightens his lips before nodding. Grace groans dramatically, then bursts into giggles. Simon and Jack soon follow, and like that, the tension is broken.
-----------
From there, the conversation flows easily. Jack begins reading off Simon’s favorite kinks, and they don’t feel as daunting as Grace had feared. Sure, the idea of trying to play them out is still intimidating, but Grace no longer feels like he’s failing simply for not being certain he can perform them.
“Choking,” Jack reads off the list. Grace is still getting used to the idea of there being an actual physical list of this stuff. He was expecting to have to remember everything by heart but no, there’s a list!
“Like, strangling him?” Grace says, looking nervously at Simon.
“No no, not actual strangulation,” Simon assures him gently. “The better term is ‘breath play.’ Jack just likes to say ‘choking’ cause he’s a little shit.”
“Guilty,” Jack singsongs.
“Here, lemme show you,” Simon says, gently taking Grace’s hand and places it around his throat. “Now, you obviously don’t want to put pressure on the front of the throat, since that can damage the trachea, larynx, et cetera. Instead, you wanna feel around for the arteries.”
Grace finds that he’s hyperfocused on the sensation of Simon’s throat beneath his hand. He moves his fingers until he feels the delicate pulse of blood beneath the skin. It’s a heady feeling, holding Simon like this, so trusting under his hand.
“So by applying even a little bit of pressure to those arteries, you restrict blood flow to the brain, which simulates asphyxiation and gives the same sense of euphoria with significantly less risk risk of injury.”
“But not zero risk,” Grace states. Simon nods, and Grace revels at the way his thick neck flexes beneath his fingers.
“Exactly. I don’t need to tell you the risks that oxygen deprivation can pose, which is why I trust you to do this safely to me.”
There’s that word again. Trust. Every time Simon says it, Grace feels a euphoric little flutter in his chest.
“So what are your thoughts on that one?” Jack asks. Grace weighs his feelings, still feeling Simon’s gentle pulse beneath his finger tips. It feels precious.
“Well, this one’s mostly a maybe too,” he admits, feeling a little guilty for having been almost all maybe’s and no’s thus far. “But I don’t mind just holding his neck. This feels… okay. Like I’m just, holding him in place. So I guess it’s a yes for no pressure.”
“You sure?” Jack checks. “You’re not just saying that to please us, right?”
“No no, I’m sure,” Grace says. “This… this feels nice. It’s nice to just… hold Simon like this.”
Simon smiles serenely at Grace, clearly just enjoying the feeling around his neck.
“Alright! That’s a maybe with a yes caveat!” Jack says, marking the answer down. “We’re making good progress!”
“Are we though?” Grace says, releasing Simon’s throat. “I mean, that’s basically the only yes I’ve given so far! Aside from hair pulling, everything else has been no’s.”
“Actually, most of them have been maybe’s,” Jack corrects.
“And that’s okay,” Simon soothes.
“I just,” Grace sputters for a moment before pausing to collect his words. “I want to do this for you. I really do. But so much of it is just… stuff I wouldn’t enjoy doing, and that sucks.”
“Look, that’s okay,” Simon assures Grace.
“But you deserve better than ‘okay’ Simon!” Grace wails. “You deserve someone who can give you what you need, and if I can’t do that then-”
“Hey.” Simon cuts Grace off. “Don’t do that to yourself. Sex isn’t everything in a relationship, okay? You still make me happy.”
“But I could make you happier,” Grace whines.
“That’s not-” Simon begins before Jack interrupts.
“If I may make a suggestion,” he says, holding up a soothing hand. “What if you weren’t doing it alone?”
“What do you mean?” Grace asks.
“What I mean is, you haven’t given many hard no’s,” Jack says, calm and even. “You’ve been open to at least trying most of what we’ve gone over, you just aren’t sure that you’d be able to do it. So what if you didn’t have to worry about failing? What if you had someone there to show you the ropes?”
“That…” Grace hadn’t considered anything like that before. “That actually makes sense. But who?”
Jack smirks condescendingly at him.
Simon is quicker on the uptake than Grace.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Simon asks, sounding uncertain.
“Not yet!” Jack says brightly. “That’s why I’m asking!”
“Not sure what’s a good-” Grace begins before the realization hits him. “Oh! You mean, like you?”
“Yeah,” Jack says patiently.
“And us?” Grace adds, defaulting to scientific rigor in the face of nervousness.
“That’s the general idea,” Jack confirms, grinning like the cat that got the cream, the bastard.
“Jack…” Simon warns.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Jack relents, hands raised in mock surrender. “He’s just really fun to mess with!”
“Jack…” Simon warns again.
“Alright! Alright!” Jack says through his still cheeky grin. “I’ll play nice!”
Simon nods as he rubs his hand soothingly on Grace’s thigh.
“You okay? Not freaked out or anything?”
“You can use your safe word if you need to,” Jack adds, no teasing in his voice anymore. “Even though we’re not technically in a scene, it’s still there for you to use.”
“Gotcha,” Grace confirms, still feeling a little out of his depth. “I’m okay, it was just not really what I expected him to say.”
“Did it make you uncomfortable?” Jack asks.
Grace thinks for a moment before he answers, feeling proud of himself for following Simon’s thoughtful example.
“A little,” he admits. “But not in a bad way.”
The grin is right back on Jack’s face at that admission. Grace is beginning to realize how much Jack likes pushing people’s boundaries. It’s definitely why he and Simon were so compatible.
“So before I settle on an answer to your suggestion,” Grace continues, “lemme ask you guys a few questions.”
“Shoot,” Jack says, leaning back in his chair, a hint of a confident smirk simmering below his lips.
“Of course,” Simon adds.
“Well, maybe not ask questions, more like confirm a few things,” Grace admits, defaulting to precision of language to defuse his nerves. “So, you and Simon dated, and you guys decided to stop dating a while back, right?”
“Yep,” Jack says, matter of fact, no hint of regret or resentment in his voice.
“And that was cause you’re aro, right?” Grace asks.
“Yep,” Jack confirms again. “It took me a while to really realize that I didn’t like dating. It was rougher for Simon, right?”
“Yeah,” Simon confirms, equally as calm as Jack. “I wanted romance, and when Jack realized that that was just something he didn’t want it took me a little while to come to understand that that wasn’t about me. Luckily, Jack was very forgiving of me for how I acted.”
“Meh!” Jack says with an exaggerated wave of his hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were upset and you had a right to be. What matters is that you took charge of your feelings and we stayed friends.”
“With benefits, right?” Grace adds.
“Yep!” Jack confirms again, smiling fondly. “We eventually came to an understanding that, even though we weren’t dating, we could still be intimate. I’ve had a few other subs since then, but Simon was always my main sub.”
“You’ve had other doms, right?” Grace asks Simon.
“A couple,” he responds. “There was Ava for a little while. We didn’t work out, and that was a messy breakup. Then David. That breakup wasn’t messy, but we also didn’t have much in common so we didn’t stay friends. While I was dating them, I wasn’t seeing Jack. Same with when I started dating you. Jack and I haven’t fooled around since then.”
“I figured,” Grace says, though he’s still glad to hear that confirmation of Simon’s faithfulness. “So if we did decide to do this with all three of us, how would that work?”
“However you want it, frankly,” Jack says with an easy shrug. “Simon and I already have a good understanding of how our relationship works, so the tone for all three of us together would largely be dictated by you. Obviously we’d still be speaking up for our preferences, but you’d be the one setting the rhythm.”
“That’s good,” Grace says honestly. “So, like, would you want to do things with me?”
“Do you mean sexually or as a dom?” Jack inquires.
“Both,” Grace answers. “But mainly the first one.”
“The answer for both is only if you want to,” Jack says easily. “And if Simon is okay with it, obviously. You’re a good looking guy, and I certainly wouldn’t mind kissing you, but we can also be mostly or entirely platonic within the scene. I know you’re demi, right?”
“Yeah,” Grace confirms.
“So I wouldn’t want to make you feel like you had to force attraction to me. Simon, what are your thoughts?”
Simon ponders seriously for a moment. Grace admires his expression.
“I’m not entirely sure, honestly,” he says. “I don’t think I’d get seriously jealous, but I’ll probably get at least a little jealous, which could either make the scene more fun or actually derail it.”
“You can be a little possessive,” Jack says fondly.
Simon levels an unimpressed look at Jack.
“That’s a good thing!” Jack feigns indignation. “You’re hot when you’re possessive! All that jealous muscle, it does things to a man!”
“He’s right,” Grace confirms, drawing looks of mild surprise from both of them. “Remember last week when that guy was hitting on me and you came up and kissed me right in front of him?”
“Yeah?” Simon says, a twinge of regret ghosting across his face.
“Well, I, uh, I didn’t know how to say it at the time,” Grace stumbles through his embarrassment, “cause I thought it was, like, me being weird or toxic or something, but, uh, that turned me on.”
“Really??” Simon says, as if he’s not sure he’d be so lucky.
“Yeah,” Grace confirms, burying his face in his hands for a moment. “I’ve never, like, had a partner who was that protective of me and, like, it did things to me.”
“Oh, Goodness Gracie!” Jack says gleefully. “You’re kinkier than I gave you credit for, laddie!”
Simon gently pulls Grace’s hands away from his face, forcing him to look into Simon’s open, tender expression.
“I’m really lucky to have found you,” Simon says earnestly before pulling him into a gentle kiss.
“Alright, next question,” Jack says after the tender moment has sat for long enough. “How do you feel about me being sexual with Simon?” Jack asks. “Like, aside from the sadism stuff, just doing things like kissing him, jerking off to him, fucking him, that sorta stuff?”
Grace internally balks for a moment at how casually Jack discusses a subject he’s been so used to being viewed as taboo, but at the same time it makes it feel less daunting for him to discuss. It’s permission to be crass, and it’s freeing. It’s like being allowed to be more precise in his language.
“Well,” Grace thinks for a moment. “I’m not sure. I don’t get really get jealous. Like, when other guys would look at my ex, I wouldn’t get jealous, but I would worry that she would find them more attractive than me. I guess that got proven right.” He laughs a little derisively, and Simon gently squeezes his thigh. “But yeah, I don’t think I’d get upset if I saw you, like, jerking off to Simon, but I don’t know how I’d feel if you kissed him.”
“That’s fine,” Jack says. “You don’t need an exact answer, it’s better that you admit to uncertainty than to try to force yourself to have an answer. We can go into a scene with a couple options in mind that you can specify at time of, figure out precise boundaries as we go. Actually, on that note, I do have something I’d like to put forward to you.”
“What’s that?” Grace asks.
“You may have noticed that I like pushing boundaries,” Jack says, smiling impishly.
“I may have had an inkling or two,” Grace confirms, grateful for the casual air.
“I know, I’m very subtle about it,” Jack says, grinning. “I really enjoy testing people’s boundaries, seeing how far they let me push, that sort of thing, and I think that you’d have fun with letting me push at your boundaries a little. Not, like, ignoring your hard limits or anything. This is more along the lines of testing those boundaries that you either have not yet fully established or have made it clear that you’re okay with me pushing at a little. Obviously, I’d still respect all your hard limits, but Simon and I have had a lot of fun testing his boundaries, so that’s on the table.”
Grace thinks for a moment. Would he enjoy letting Jack test his boundaries?
“Hang on,” Grace says, realizing something. “You’ve been doing that with me all along, haven’t you?”
Jack’s grin becomes almost maniacal in its glee.
“Maaaaybe…” he says, feigning innocence.
“So, essentially, what you’re really asking is if you can carry over our already extant vibe into a BDSM scene, huh?”
“I’m not sure what ‘extant’ means but I’m pretty sure the answer is yes,” Jack says, grinning hugely.
Grace groans, covering his face and burying it into Simon’s welcoming chest. Simon’s warm chuckle vibrates around his head as he wraps his arms around Grace.
“Yeah,” Simon commiserates, “he does it to me, too. It’s weird the first time you realize it, right?”
Grace groans again as Jack begins to cackle with delight. He’s not entirely sure how to feel about realizing that, in spite of himself, he likes Jack being a little shit.
“Don’t worry, Angel,” Simon murmurs into Grace’s hair. “I’ll make sure he focuses all of his bullying on me. I’ll be your meat shield. I can take it.”
“Thank you, Starshine,” he mumbles into Simon’s chest.
Jack just keeps on laughing. Grace can’t find it in himself to mind too much.
-----------
“Alright, now just loop that around and feed it through there…”
Grace is many things: a holder of multiple masters degrees, a retro movie aficionado, a pretty darn good teacher, and an avid hiker. However, none of those things include a skill set in rope tying. Grace never got past Tiger in the Cub Scouts, and he never considered being a sailor, so the idea of tying knots never really crossed his mind.
Luckily, Jack is very patient. As is Simon.
Frankly, part of why Grace is so distracted is because of how calm Simon is. Yes, part of it does have to do with how good Simon looks naked. With his arms pulled behind his back, it brings his traps into particular definition, the sturdy set of his shoulders beautifully complemented by the leather harness he wears, and Grace is not above ogling his boyfriend. However, the biggest factor is just how calm Simon is right now.
Since breakfast this morning, Simon had been buzzing with excitement. He does a good job hiding it, but Grace caught the way that he would fidget, the way that he’d sneak glances at him, the way that he’d check his watch more often than usual. By the time they were wrapping up their light dinner before Jack arrived he was practically vibrating out of his skin.
But now that he’s stripped down to nothing but a well loved leather harness, a sizable plug inserted firmly into his ass, he’s calm. Not necessarily serene. Grace can still see the tension in his body, how it twangs in his shoulders as he rolls them, how it trembles in his legs where he kneels on the cushions beneath him, but its focused, controlled.
It’s amazing.
“And there you have it!” Jack says as Grace finishes tying Simon’s forearms together. “How’s that feel, Simon?”
“Good,” he says over his shoulder as he tests out the restraints, pulling in a few directions, causing his back to flex enticingly. His arms form a triangle with his shoulders, making his lats and delts stand out. “Yeah, feels solid. Good job, Grace.”
“Thanks, hun,” Grace says, carding his fingers through Simon’s hair, reveling in the way that Simon so readily leans into the touch. “Good boy,” he adds, feeling a little uncertain of his boldness until he’s met with a happy hum from Simon, quelling his anxiety.
“That’s right, he is a good boy, isn’t he?” Jack agrees, walking around to stand in front of Simon. Like Grace himself, Jack is wearing comfortable loose pajama bottoms and a black death metal T-shirt, leaving them looking somewhat out of place compared to Simon’s leather and rope. He crouches down and pats Simon on the cheek, just hard enough to create a dull thwaping sound. Grace can’t see Simon’s response, but based on Jack’s subsequent cheeky grin he can very clearly envision the glare he’s leveling at the man. “Alright, lads,” Jack stands back up. “Colors.”
“Green,” Simon responds immediately.
“Oh right! Green,” Grace says after a moment for his mind to catch up with his brain. “Sorry, got distracted.”
“It’s okay, Grace,” Jack says, smiling patiently at him. “You’re still new to this, no one expects you to get this right away.”
“Yeah, you’re doing fine,” Simon says.
Lightning fast, before Grace can even respond, Jack’s hand has lashed out and struck Simon across the face with a sharp slap. Grace flinches, caught off guard by the sudden violence.
“You speak when spoken to, Dog,” Jack says casually, his mouth quirked up in a crooked grin as he looks down at Simon. “Color.”
“Green,” Simon gasps without hesitation.
“See, Grace?” Jack says over Simon, meeting Grace’s eye. “He’s okay.”
It’s only then that Grace realizes he took an aborted step forward to… to what, protect Simon? He knows that Simon wants this, they’ve gone over this scene already, don’t be stupid!
“Hey, Grace, what’s your color?” Jack asks, genuine concern on his face.
“Green,” Grace says after only a beat of silence. “Sorry, I just, wasn’t expecting it.
“No need to apologize, Goodness,” Jack says kindly. “You’re new to this. That’s why we’re doing a simple scene tonight. And trust me,” Jack continues, the cocky grin returning. “Simon can take way more than what I’ll be giving him tonight. Quite frankly, Simon has brushed up against my limits way more times than I’ve come up against his.” He grabs Simon by the chin, squishing his cheeks. “Believe you me, this cunt’s an absolute maniac for pain, isn’t that right, Dog?”
“Yes, sir,” Simon says through squashed lips.
“Good boy,” Jack says, releasing Simon’s chin before giving him another slap, lighter than the last one but still hard enough to make a sound. This time Grace is ready for it, though, so he’s not distracted by worry and is able too notice the sharp inhale of breath that Simon takes, followed by his slow, controlled exhale.
“Now, Dog,” Jack continues. “Today we’re doing something special. We’ve got a sweetheart here to see how pretty you get when you cry. You wanna say hi to Grace?”
Simon nods eagerly.
“Well go on,” he says, voice almost impatient. “Say hello.”
Simon begins to shuffle on his knees, awkwardly turning himself around.
“Hello, sir,” Simon says, meeting Grace’s eyes, and Grace is caught off guard by his own response. Simon’s eyes look beautiful like this. Grace can’t put his finger on the emotion in them. Anticipation, excitement, a little bittersweet sorrow that almost looks like hope. It’s incredibly vulnerable in a way that Grace hasn’t really seen in him before. It’s heady.
“Hello, Simon,” Grace says a little awkwardly, still parsing through his own feelings.
“Aww, isn’t that cute?” Jack says, roughly grabbing Simon by the hair. “Grace called you ‘Simon,’ like a real boy.” Jack pulls Simon’s head back, exposing his neck. “You should thank him for being so nice, shouldn’t you, Dog?”
“Thank you, sir,” Simon says, his voice slightly strained.
“Thank you for what?” Jack says, giving Simon a quick slap on the cheek with his free hand.
“Thank you for giving me a real boy name, sir,” Simon says. Jack releases his hair.
“That’s a good boy,” Jack says, walking away towards the table where he’s laid out his equipment. “Now Grace, you can go ahead and have a seat, I’ll be right with you. The Dog will take care of you while you wait.”
Grace nods, then feels a little silly for having nodded when Jack was facing away and takes a seat on the chair a few steps behind him. Simon eagerly follows, shuffling forward on his knees until he’s able to lean forward into Grace’s lap, looking up at him with his big, brown eyes. Grace tenderly takes his head in his hands, gently scratching behind Simon’s ears. His eyes slide shut. Grace takes in just how calm Simon looks. He’s seem him calm like this before, usually after they’ve had sex or a long bath in Simon’s master tub, but he’s never seen him slide into calm this fast.
Thwack!
Simon’s face screws up in pain and he jolts forward.
“So this is what’s called a flogger,” Jack says, matter-of-fact as he holds up what looks to grace like a horse’s tail on a stick. “These come in a wide variety of shapes and materials. Softer materials and wider falls give a heavier, more thuddy feel, but this Dog loves a good sting, so we typically use a flogger with thin rubber falls.” He strikes Simon across the ass with the flogger again, causing him to flinch forward and suck in a sharp breath.
Grace strokes his hand through Simon’s hair.
“Falls?” he asks, using his natural curiosity to avoid breaking character.
“Oh right, sorry about that,” Jack says, casually flogging Simon’s ass again, making him whimper into Grace’s chest. “The falls are the term for the tails on the flogger. Not sure why they’re called that.”
“Maybe cause when the blow falls, that’s what hits?” suggests Grace, defaulting to academics to manage the nervous energy simmering beneath the surface to seem as unaffected as possible for Simon’s benefit. He cards his fingers through Simon’s hair as he whimpers, giving himself something to do with his hands.
“Oh shit,” Jack says with a bemused grin. “I hadn’t thought of that! That might be it!” Still grinning, he strikes Simon’s ass again with a sharp thwap, causing Simon to flinch dramatically.
“Color,” Jack says with the same casual ease as a man asking about the weather.
“Green,” Simon gasps, nuzzling blindly into Grace’s hands.
Grace gives himself a moment to think. He’s full of nervous energy right now, but it doesn’t feel like anxiety or stress. It’s more akin to how he felt when he went to the concert where he first met Simon and Jack, not sure what to expect and a little outside of his comfort zone but curious as to what comes next, and a little thrilled and proud at himself for doing something so, for lack of a better word, cool. Grace had never considered himself to be cool in any way, but he’s been feeling more adventurous since meeting Simon.
“Green,” Grace confirms. Jack nods, looking pleased.
“So the nice thing about this flogger,” Jack continues, as casual as if they had merely taken a brief pause in a mundane conversation, striking Simon’s flank again almost as an after thought, “is that, as far as impact equipment goes, this flogger is very beginner friendly.”
Another strike on Simon’s flank, another whimper. Grace drags his fingernails across Simon’s scalp, and his whimper slides into a happy groan.
“So,” Grace speaks up, trying to keep his voice as casual as Jack is, “impact equipment is stuff that you hit subs with?”
“That’s right,” Jack says, unleashing a sudden, vicious strike on Simon’s upper thighs. Simon gasps out a whimper that is almost a cry, lurching forward into Grace’s lap. “Floggers, crops, whips, quirts, cat o’ nine tails, canes, paddles, that sort of stuff. This Dog usually prefers a nice sharp sting…”
Another strike, more gentle this time. Instead of a whimper, Simon moans, low and begging for more.
“So we usually go for whips, crops, quirts, and rubber floggers. That’s the stuff that really gives a good sting.”
Without breaking character, Jack unleashes two quick rapid strikes on Simon’s ass. At the first strike, Simon whimpers, at the second he yelps, burying his head in the crook of Grace’s elbow.
“What’s a quirt?” Grace asks in lieu of anything else to say.
“Oh, right, sorry!” Jack chuckles in self admonishment. “A quirt is a short cowboy type whip. Here lemme show you.”
Jack turns away to walk back to the table where he has his equipment spread out. Simon whines as Jack walks away.
“Aw, quit yer bellyachin’!” Jack calls over his shoulder. “If you’re gonna be a brat then you won’t get anything!” Simon whines into Grace’s arm. “Grace,” Jack says, sounding exasperated as he peruses his equipment, “do me a favor and quiet the Dog down, will ya?”
Grace freezes for a second.
“What should I do?” he asks, feeling out of his depth as Simon whines into his arm again.
“Oh, whatever you feel will get him to shut up,” Jack says. Grace can tell that he’s already found what he was looking for but is drawing it out to push Grace into the session a little more. Grace feels like he’s expected to do something mean, but he doesn’t feel like doing that. All he wants to do right now is comfort Simon, and they said that he should trust his instincts, right? Worse comes to worst, they just correct him.
He lifts Simon’s head by the chin, meeting Simon’s eyes. They’re a little glassy, slightly red, and so brown that they almost seem black with his pupils blown out the way they are.
“Hey, Starshine,” Grace coos, and Simon’s face crumples with another whine. “No no no, shhhh…” Grace soothes, stroking through Simon’s hair and across his shoulders. “It’s okay, Starshine. You’re doing so good, baby. So good. Now shhhh…” Simon slowly quiets, his tear-glazed eyes locked onto Grace’s. It’s incredibly intimate, giving Simon this support. It may be a scene, but it feels very real. He can actually feel Simon relaxing on his lap. “See? That’s it, you’re doing so good, you’re so brave, Starshine. Taking it like a champ.”
“Awwwww,” Jack says as he swaggers back to Simon, casually swinging what looks like half a whip as he walks. “Aren’t you two just the cutest couple?” he teases, grinning meanly. “Well, if you’re done being disgustingly sweet, this…” he holds up the half whip, which Grace notices has two thinner strips of leather at the end, “is a quirt. You know in, like, movies and stuff when you see a cowboy slapping his horse’s butt to get it to run faster? They’re using one of these.”
He swings his arm back and forth, re-familiarizing himself with its weight.
“They’re designed for to deliver a slight sting at close range. Nothing that hurts the horse, just enough to simulate a predator on its flank, give it that burst of adrenaline.”
Without warning, he lashes out at Simon’s rump, surprising a yelp out of him. Grace instinctively cradles Simon’s head as Jack sneers arrogantly.
“Though that’s not to say you can’t still get a good sting out of it if you know what you’re doing,” he smirks. “Simon actually made this one himself for a cowboy scene we did a couple years back. Here, take a look.”
Jack hands the quirt over to Grace, who accepts it with one hand, still cradling Simon’s quietly whimpering head in his other. He looks closely at it as Jack retrieves the flogger from where he left it. It’s made from black, braided leather, and while it’s very clearly handmade, it was clearly made with attention and care.
“Wow, you made this?” Grace says to Simon, who nods blindly into his stomach. “I’m impressed! It’s very cool!”
Simon looks up at Grace, a slightly brainless grin on his face, but the grin is quickly wiped away when his face scrunches up in pain as Jack smacks his ass again with the flogger.
“Break it up, lovebirds!” Jack taunts, striking Simon’s upper thighs, causing Simon to yelp in pain. “If you wanna be touchy-feely, then you might as well let the cunt suck your dick, Goodness. I know he’s gagging for it, aren’t ya, Dog?”
Simon nods enthusiastically. Jack laughs and strikes his ass again, and Simon yelps, faltering in his nodding only for a moment before reclaiming his rhythm.
“See, Gracie? The Dog loves being used as a hole,” Jack smirks, turning back to his equipment. “Color,” he orders brusquely.
“Green.” Simon and Grace speak simultaneously. Grace chuckles a little, and Simon grins, lazy and lopsided up at him, eyes still glassy and bright. Jack returns shortly holding what looks like a collar with a rubber ring built into it.
“Hey Grace, do me a favor and sit the Dog back up, would you?” Jack requests. “He can’t do it himself, he’s too buff.”
Grace gently lifts Simon’s torso back into an upright position, noticing how Simon preens at the compliment of how big he is. Jack stands behind him, knees pressing into his back.
“Open,” he orders, and Simon easily obeys, opening his mouth wide enough for Jack to insert what Grace now realizes is a gag into it. His teeth close around the rubber ring, and Grace can see Simon’s tongue exploring the inside of the ring as it forces his mouth open.
“So this is a fun little toy,” Jack says, firmly patting Simon’s cheek as he pulls his head back by the hair. “This way you can facefuck the Dog while I flog the piss out of him, and we don’t have to worry about him biting down.”
“That… sounds great,” Grace says, a little overwhelmed by the idea but excited nonetheless. “Do I need to, like, do anything?”
“Nah,” Jack says, pushing a finger into the ring, where Simon’s tongue instinctively lathes against it. “Just use the Dog as a hole. You can use that quirt I gave you if you want. Oh, and he loves it when you grab him by the hair to take charge, don’t ya, Dog?”
Simon grunts wordlessly through the ring gag as he nods eagerly, his eyes rolling down to stare desperately at Grace.
“Yeah, course you do,” Jack teases. “And don’t worry about a gag reflex. I trained that out of the Dog years ago. He’s just a hungry little hole at this point. Alright, get to work.”
Jack shoves Simon forward, causing him to topple face first into Grace’s lap. Before Grace can even pet him again, Simon’s already nuzzling eagerly at his groin, grunting and whining loudly through the ring as he rubs his head clumsily against the soft cotton.
“No need to be shy, Grace,” Jack says, though the teasing in his voice is balanced out by the gentleness in his expression. Grace knows that, if he decides he isn’t comfortable with this, Jack will accept it. More than anything else, it’s that that gets Grace over the last hurdle of anxiety to pull down his waistband, letting his hard cock pop out. It only has a moment to bob in place before Simon is sinking his open mouth over it. Grace gasps in surprise at the sensation. He had barely even realized how turned on he was, having been so focused on Simon, and the feeling of his hot, wet tongue laving lovingly across his cock is a shock.
“He’s good, isn’t he?” Jack smirks.
“F-frick yeah…” Grace gasps out. Jack laughs teasingly at Grace’s refusal to say swear words.
“Go on, grab his hair,” he gestures to Simon, who has already started bobbing his head up and down. “He wants to be used. Let the Dog be a brainless little hole for you. I think he’s earned it, right?”
Grace puts the quirt to the side, not feeling up to actually striking Simon. Instead, he tentatively cards his fingers through Simon’s hair, causing Simon to stop bobbing, waiting for Grace to take charge. Grace tightens his grip, tugging slightly at Simon’s hair, causing him to moan against his dick, and begins to bob him up and down. He thrusts up into Simon’s pliant mouth, bottoming out, and Simon moans happily at the feeling of being used.
Wow.
Thwap!
Simon whimpers on Grace’s dick as Jack flogs his upper thighs again, but the ring gag keeps his mouth propped open. Grace doesn’t even have to slow down, doesn’t have to worry about Simon needing to brace himself, and he realizes that that’s the point. Simon always prides himself on being capable, on being the man that everyone can rely on. He’s always keeping a sharp eye out for how he can help the people he cares about, always alert for how he can make their lives better. This is a way that he can still do that without having to do a thing.
Grace can work with that.
“Your mouth feels so good, Starshine…” Grace coos down to Simon as Jack flogs him again. Simon moans and whimpers. “So good to me, Starshine. Such a strong boy. Such a good boy.”
Jack strikes Simon again, and he whimpers as Grace thrusts up into him. Grace can feel Simon’s throat clench around his cockhead when he bottoms out, but there’s no gag.
“Dang,” Grace gasps. “Jack wasn’t kidding, was he? You really don’t have a gag reflex, do you?”
“Told ya,” Jack says cockily, viciously striking Simon’s rump once, twice, three times in rapid succession. Simon’s scream is choked out by Grace’s cock. “I trained that Dog real good. He lives to be a hole.”
“It’s incredible,” Grace says, dragging Simon’s head down into his groin as he gives a few short thrusts in. “It feels amazing. Never knew someone could do this. You’re incredible, Starshine.”
Simon’s moan stutters as if with a sob.
“You’re so handsome, Starshine,” Grace babbles, thrusting faster into his mouth. “Love seeing you like this. You’re so good to me, Starlight. So good. Fuck… Fuck…”
Grace can feel his orgasm approaching, the hot wet heat of Simon’s mouth, the feeling of his soft hair between his fingers, the knowledge of how much he loves this, how much he wants to make Grace happy.
“Gonna… gonna cum…” Grace says as Jack strikes Simon’s ass again and again. “Gonna… gonna fill you up, Starshine…”
Grace knows that Simon loves it when he cums down his throat, and Simon isn’t struggling in his hands, and he’s about to fall over the edge, and he wants to cum down his throat so badly, and so he does.
Grace gasps, shoving his dick as far down Simon’s throat as he can, feeling Simon’s throat clench around him with each swallow, easy and practiced. He feels so good. So, so good.
Finally, the orgasm ends, and after a moment to catch his breath Grace lifts Simon’s face off his dick. Simon looks like a beautiful disaster, his eyes wet and red with tears, a little snot smeared on his mustache. He looks on the verge of tears. He looks-
“Beautiful…” Grace murmurs. “You look so beautiful.”
Simon’s eyes screw up, holding back tears. Grace pulls him into a clumsy kiss, reveling in the alien novelty of shoving his tongue into a rubber ring to tangle against Simon’s own.
“Alright, let’s get this off of you,” Jack says gently, unhooking the gag from Simon’s head. Grace is immediately on Simon’s mouth again. Simon’s lips are slack, sluggish as they welcome Grace’s intrusion.
“We good for plan A?” Jack asks, excitement controlled in his voice. Grace thinks for a moment as he recalls the details of plan A. He thinks them over lazily, and realizes that it’s exactly what he wants to see.
He nods languidly.
“Fuck,” Jack whispers, excited as he grabs the condom off the nearby table, hurriedly pulling it over his own cock. The butt plug is roughly yanked out of Simon’s ass with barely a wince from Simon, giving him only a moment of emptiness before Jack roughly shoves his own cock into Simon’s ass.
“Fuuuuuuck, you’re still a tight little cunt, aren’t you?” Jack asks, thrusting eagerly into Simon’s hole. Simon hums languidly in response, gazing adoringly into Grace’s eyes. He looks so happy, so serene, eyes dark and glassy with pleasure. Grace realizes with an intense surge of relief that he isn’t jealous, not at all. He’s not worried that Simon will leave him, not when he looks at Grace like that, like Grace is everything he could possibly want. Not when Grace can give him that and still know that he’ll look forward to watching old horror movies with him every week.
“That feel good, Starshine?” Grace asks. Simon nods senselessly, eyes scrunching up slightly as Jack plasters himself to his back, reaching around to grab Simon’s cock as he thrusts frantically into him.
“Fuck, he’s got such a nice little cunt, doesn’t he?” Jack pants as he fucks Simon.
“He really does,” Grace nods, looking into Simon’s glassy eyes. He looks miles away, yet he’s so intensely focused on Grace. “You’re so beautiful like this, Simon,” Grace murmurs gently, his words underscored by the uneven slapping of Jack rutting into him, his pants and grunts the background noise for this moment of intimacy. Simon’s eyes scrunch up, tears welling up. “So pretty, Starshine…”
Simon gasps and his eyes flutter shut.
“Please…” he whimpers, Jack’s thrusts increasing in pace.
“What do you need, Starshine?” Grace asks. “I’ll give you whatever you need.”
“Please…” Simon whimpers again. “You… please…”
He’s getting close, Grace can tell. In a split second decision, Grace pulls his head into his shoulder, wrapping arms around him.
Jack slaps a hand roughly against his flank, and the floodgates open.
Simon doesn’t scream into Grace’s shoulder as he cums, but it’s a close thing. The muffled howl quickly dissolves into sobs, deep, heaving sobs and whimpers as Jack fucks him through it, his mouth buried in Grace’s shirt. Grace strokes his fingers through Simon’s hair, soothing.
“There you go, Starshine…” Grace coos as Jack’s own thrusts stutter, groaning into Simon’s back as he cums into him. “There you go. Did so good for us, baby. Did so good. So proud of you, Starshine…”
Simon continues to sob into Grace’s shoulder, messy and unrestrained, heaving breaths and desperate contact.
“That’s it, baby…” Grace soothes. “Breathe through it. You did so good, champ. Let it all out. Just breathe…”
Simon’s breaths become more regular, his sobs softening slowly, until finally he’s breathing in, and out, in, and out, calmly, smoothly, serenely.
“Good boy, Simon,” Jack says as he sits up, gently pulling his softening cock out of Simon’s hole. He rubs an encouraging hand between Simon’s shoulders. “You did such a good job.”
Simon hums, happy and content, face still buried in Grace’s shoulder. The cloth is wet against his skin, but Grace finds he doesn’t mind. Simon sniffs and Grace realizes his nose must be stuffed up from crying. He reaches over to the nearby table, but he can’t reach the handkerchief on it.
“Jack,” he says softly, getting his attention. “Can you hand me that?”
Jack looks at where he’s pointing and his face lights up with a soft grin as he hands the cloth to Grace, then begins to undo the ropes on Simon’s wrists.
“Hey Simon, can I sit you up for a second?” Simon nods lazily, and Grace gently lifts him just enough to see his slack, serene face. Sure enough, he can see a little snot smeared beneath his nose. He smiles gently at the sight of such vulnerability and holds the handkerchief up to Simon’s nose.
“Blow, please,” he commands Simon gently, and Simon obeys without thought. Grace wipes away the remaining mucus from his mustache, then allows Simon to rest his head back on his slightly damp shoulder, where he buries his face against Grace’s shoulder again.
“And… there we go!” Jack says as he undoes the last knot, freeing Simon’s arms. “You wanna move to the bed?” he asks. Simon nods sleepily. Working together, Grace and Jack gently help Simon to his feet, guiding him across the room to the bed, whose sheets are already open and ready to accept them. It’s cute how floppy Simon is, like a puppy. Grace feels powerful being able to protect him when he’s in this state, guiding him down onto the sheets and pulling him into his chest, where he curls up and wraps a thick arm around Grace’s waist.
“Alright,” Jack murmurs gently, lifting the sheet to reveal Simon’s abused ass and thighs. “Let’s get this taken care of.” He squeezes a generous helping of ointment into his palms, rubbing it between his hands before gently rubbing it over Simon’s reddened skin. Simon hums happily into Grace’s chest. “There you go, Simon,” Jack says soothingly. “That feels better, doesn’t it?”
Simon nods into Grace’s shirt, and Jack smiles fondly.
“You two lovebirds need anything?” Jack asks softly, only the slightest teasing lilt in his voice. Grace considers it.
“Can’t think of anything,” he murmurs gently. Jack nods.
“I’ll get this all cleaned up, then I’m gonna get some reading done. You let me know if you need anything,” Jack says, turning to his task when Grace nods.
From there, time becomes a little fuzzy. Grace can hear Jack moving around the room for a while, putting things away, but it’s background noise to the feeling of Simon in his arms, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, the feeling of his hair between his fingers as he lazily runs his hands through it, the occasional slight shifts as Simon gets comfortable. It’s a quiet, gentle moment, watched over by Jack, who is now sitting in the armchair just a short ways away from the bed. Jack had crassly referred to it as the “cuck chair” before the scene started, and Grace smiles fondly at the memory.
Eventually, Simon begins to fidget and Grace opens his eyes. The sight of Jack reading in the armchair, spectacles balanced delicately on his nose, is intensely domestic. Jack looks over and sees Grace’s dopey grin. He smirks at him.
“What?” he teases gently. “You see something you like?”
“Yeah,” Grace says easily. “You.”
Jack’s expression falters for a moment, and Grace celebrates a small but significant victory in the friendly battle of wills between the two of them as he recovers his smirk.
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Goodness,” he says, pointing a warning finger at him. “How’s Simon?”
“How you doing, Starshine?” Grace asks softly.
“Mmmm…” Simon hums. “Good.”
“That’s good,” Grace says. Jack smiles at that, genuine and tender.
“Alright, in that case I’m gonna head to bed,” he says, closing his book and standing from the armchair. “If you two need anything, I’ll be in the guestroom. Aside from that, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Thanks, Jack,” Grace says as Jack turns off the lamp, ruffling Grace’s hair fondly before leaving the room. Then it’s only Grace and Simon, breathing together in the warm dark.
“That was amazing,” Grace says as the silence settles around them. Simon nods lazily.
“You were… incredible…” he murmurs. Grace kisses his head.
“So were you,” he says. Simon hums happily.
“Sleep well, Starshine.”
“You, too, Angel.”
-----------
Grace is amazed at Simon’s schedule. As a middle school teacher, Grace has a very early wake up, usually being out of bed by 6. However, Simon seems to have happily kept his sleep schedule from his time in the military, so when Grace trudges into the kitchen, Simon is putting the finishing touches on breakfast for the three of them, the kitchen filled with the brooding metal music he loves.
“Is that crepe batter?” Grace asks sleepily.
“Pfannkuchen,” Simon says, bright eyed and happily busying himself around the kitchen, already pouring Grace a cup of coffee. “My Oma’s recipe. They’re basically crepes, but Oma would never forgive me for calling them that.”
Grace chuckles fondly, accepting the coffee as Simon leans in for a kiss. It’s slow and unhurried, and Grace revels in the feeling of Simon relaxing into him.
“Anything I can do to help?” Grace asks as Simon returns to the stove to check on the sausages sizzling in the cast iron skillet.
“Nope!” Simon says cheerfully. “You just sit down while I get this finished. It’s almost done!”
Grace settles into his cup of coffee, happily watching Simon as he bustles around the kitchen, checking the plates warming in the oven, double checking that everything is in order.
“You look cute in an apron,” Grace says fondly. Simon pauses for a moment, looking down at the apron as if he’d never seen it before, then at Grace in mild surprise.
“I do?” he says. Grace nods fondly, taking a sip of his coffee, and Simon’s face breaks out into a goofy grin. “Thanks!”
“No problem,” Grace quips, smiling fondly as Simon returns to his work. After a few more minutes, Simon reviews everything, nods in satisfaction, and turns back to Grace.
“Hey, Angel, I’m gonna get the pfannkuchen started, can you go wake up Jack?”
“Sure thing,” Grace says, leaving his coffee on the table as he stands up. “Won’t he be unhappy being woken up so early?”
“Definitely,” Simon says with a mischievous grin, causing Grace to chuckle. “Just tell him I’m making my grandma’s pancakes. That’ll get him moving.”
Grace happily shuffles down the hall to the guestroom. He knocks on the door.
“Hey Jack! You up?”
No answer. Feeling bold, Grace opens the door and leans in.
“You up, Jack?”
“Feck off…” he grumbles from the bed.
“Simon’s making breakfast,” Grace says.
“Mmmffff…” is the response he receives.
“It’s pfannkuchen,” he adds with a smirk.
“His grandma’s recipe?” Jack responds, suddenly sounding alert. “The German pancakes?”
“They’re called pfannkuchen,” Grace teases.
“Yeah, well he can use his fancy kraut words till the cows come home, my Irish ass is calling them pancakes,” his voice says among the sounds of fumbling out of bed.
“Well he says that if you don’t come soon there won’t be any left,” Grace teases.
“The Hell there won’t!” Jack’s voice cries after Grace as he returns to the kitchen, where Simon is carefully flipping the pfannkuchen in the skillet.
“He coming?” Simon says.
“Seems like your pfannkuchen are legendary,” Grace says as he takes his seat again. He considers offering to help again, but he knows how particular Simon is about the kitchen, and he knows that Simon probably wants to be the one to take care of them after last night. He doesn’t have to feel guilty for letting Simon take care of him.
Jack trudges into the kitchen just as Simon is plating the first pfannkuchen.
“Fuck, that smells good!” he yawns. Simon brings him a mug of coffee as he slides the plated pfannkuchen onto the place mat in front of Grace.
“Careful, the plate’s still warm,” he says as he begins on the next pfannkuchen. “Grace, don’t stand on ceremony, go ahead and start eating, I don’t want yours to get cold.
“Aye aye, sir!” Grace says as he begins to add fillings to his pfannkuchen. Jack settles into the chair opposite him, sipping happily from his coffee.
“Hey,” Jack says after a moment of listening to the metal in the background. “Isn’t this HEALTH?”
“Yep!” Simon says.
“Cum Metal mornings,” Jack nods sagely. “Good choice.”
“Wait,” Grace says, recognizing the name. “Isn’t that the band that played at the concert we met at?”
“Maybe,” Simon says coyly as he flips the pfannkuchen.
“Oh shit, that’s right!” Jack says, eyes lighting up. “Fuck, Simon, you’re a romantic little bastard, aren’t you?”
“Just feeling a bit sentimental this morning,” Simon says happily.
“On that note,” Jack says, “I wanna talk about last night, because that was incredible! Grace! You’re a natural!”
“You really think so?” Grace asks as he rolls up his pfannkuchen.
“Definitely!” Jack insists. “I could tell you felt a little out of your depth, but you soldiered through and really embraced the role in your own way!”
“Jack’s right,” Simon says, monitoring the pan. “You were…” he gestures impotently, unable to find the right words. “That was nothing like anything I’ve ever done before. I never thought I’d enjoy a soft dom. But you were…” he pauses as he plates the next pfannkuchen before giving up on the sentence. “You were incredible.”
“Yeah,” Jack says earnestly. “The good cop bad cop angle really worked out well!”
Grace allows himself to preen a little under the praise.
“Thanks, guys,” he says as he swallows another bite. “I just did what felt natural. Also, Simon, these pfannkuchen are incredible!”
“Damn right they are!” Jack agrees enthusiastically. “I usually have to bribe Simon to make these!”
“I’m making seconds for everyone, so don’t be shy!” Simon says proudly, clearly enjoying the praise.
“So Grace,” Jack follows up. “Would you want to do this sort of thing again?”
“Yeah, absolutely!” Grace says. He meets Simon’s eyes as he turns to look at him, enjoying the joy and excitement on his face. “I really enjoyed playing the, what did you call it, soft dom?”
“Right,” Jack confirms, stuffing another bite into his mouth.
“Yeah,” Grace continues. “I really enjoyed being a soft dom to Jack’s hard dom. Is that the right word?” Jack nods. “And after that initial shock, seeing you get hurt wasn’t bad. I was worried that I’d get, like, scared or something for you, but it was really obvious that you were enjoying yourself the whole time, and I like seeing you enjoy yourself, so it was a great experience.”
Grace can see Simon beaming down at the skillet as he flips the next pfannkuchen.
“And you weren’t upset when I fucked Simon?” Jack asks, straightforward as always. To Grace’s surprise, though, the bluntness doesn’t make him balk.
“I wasn’t,” Grace says. “I knew that you weren’t taking Simon from me, you were just making him happy cause you care about him. I knew that he wasn’t going to leave me because… okay, can I say something a little weird?”
“Grace,” Jack says, raising a derisive eyebrow. “Simon likes getting whipped. Weird is the word of the day in this household.”
Grace chuckles, his anxiety defusing.
“Okay, so, I knew that Simon won’t leave me because…” Grace looks down, still feeling a little embarrassed by what he’s about to say. “Well, because he’s mine.”
After a moment of silence, Grace looks up, worried to see looks of disgust. But Simon is staring at him as if he hung up the moon, mouth a little slack.
“Damn, Simon,” Jack says, sounding impressed. “You found a real one here!”
Simon’s strides devour the distance between the two of them, and before Grace knows it his mouth is captured by Simon’s, their tongues gently entwining, soft lips pressed together. Grace hums, and Simon hums back.
After a moment, Jack speaks up.
“I hate to break this darling display,” he teases, “but your pancake is burning, Simon.”
“Shit!”
In a flash, Simon scrambles back to the stove, scraping the slightly singed pfannkuchen into the trash. Grace chuckles fondly, and Simon’s looks back over at him as he re-greases the pan, almost shy, very hopeful, and happy in a way that Grace rarely gets to see from Simon.
Yeah, he can definitely do this.