2
The suite at Bellagio is gorgeous, all muted colors and tasteful decor. The bathroom alone is bigger than their entire bedroom space, with a tub big enough for both of them. But it’s the bed that pulls at them both. Chris mumbles something about the lunch buffet, but Jay-Cee ignores him, pushing him down into the plush pillowtop mattress.
Chris groans. “Oh yeah. I’m leaving you for this bed. I’m sorry, you’re good. But this bed, it’s just doing things for me.” He moans again, pulling the creamy duvet up around his body.
Jay-Cee pulls Chris’s shoes and socks off. He stands up, reaches for the button of Chris’s jeans but Chris grabs his arm with a hand still wrapped in the bedcover. “Sorry, Jay-Cee. The bed’s jealous. No one gets me but her.”
Jay-Cee laughs and pushes Chris’s hand flat against the bed. He presses his mouth to the strip of skin between hit t-shirt and jeans. Nipping and biting, licking around his navel, running the flat of his tongue over his hipbones. By the time he bites the button of the jeans open and pulls the zipper down with his teeth, Chris is a moaning, writhing wreck. Jay-Cee grasps the open flaps with both hands and pauses, mouth a hair’s breadth away from Chris’s hard dick. “Still want me to leave you alone with the bed?”
Chris thrusts up faster than Jay-Cee expected and manages to shove his dick against Jay-Cee’s mouth. “No, Jay-Cee. I want you to blow me. Stop being a tease.” Third time today Chris’s called Jay-Cee a tease. There’s something he wants, something he’s not getting. But Jay-Cee’s going to take care of that, of him. Some sleep, some food, and he’ll be ready for the long night he has planned.
He opens his mouth over Chris’s cock, sucking and licking at it through the thick cotton of his favorite black briefs. They’re almost too small for Chris, and by the time Jay-Cee’s spit has soaked the cotton, Chris’s cock is pushed up hard against the tight elastic waistband. The thick band keeps his erection from pushing out, so it gets shoved sideways, a long, thick bulge under the briefs. It’s obscene, pornographic.
Chris’s hands are fisted in the blankets, trying not to grab at Jay-Cee’s head. He shouldn’t have to be trying. He still doesn’t completely trust Jay-Cee to get him there. Jay-Cee lifts up his head, bottom lip still touching Chris. He slides his fingers under the elastic, pulling it away from Chris’s body. “This what you want, Chris?” he asks with a growl.
He doesn’t wait for an answer before lifting the material up and over Chris’s erection, sliding down just enough for it to spring free. When Jay-Cee blows across the wet tip, Chris shudders. “I asked you a question. Is this what you want?”
Jay-Cee waits not-quite patiently. He really wants to get his mouth around Chris. He loves the feel of Chris’s heavy cock on his tongue, the stretch of his lips. Watching Chris fall apart is one of Jay-Cee’s favorite things. And Chris loves it, loves seeing Jay-Cee on his knees for him.
Chris’s answer determines what happens next, it will set the tone for the rest of the weekend. They both want Jay-Cee to be in control, but sometimes it’s hard for Chris to give up when he feels he doesn’t deserve it or is scared of what he’ll feel he lets his guard down. It’s something impossible for Jay-Cee to take. It’s a gift that has to be freely given.
The warm male scent of Chris and the heat of his body makes Jay-Cee’s mouth water. He gives in to temptation and touches his tongue to the tip, tasting the salty sweetness there. He can’t hold back his moan. Under his hands, Chris body relaxes, sinks into the bed. He feels Chris’s hand on his head, not pushing, Chris’s carding his fingers gently through Jay-Cee’s hair. Jay-Cee leans into the touch, closing his eyes.
Chris’s voice is soft, “Whatever you want, love.”
Thank God. Jay-Cee slides off the bed, taking Chris’s jeans and briefs down with him. He holds out his hand and pulls Chris upright, gently taking off his shirt. Bending down, he places a gentle kiss on Chris’s lips at the same time he fists his cock, slowly but firmly. “What I want,” he whispers into Chris’s ear, “is to suck your brains out through your cock.”
Chris pulls him in for a very thorough kiss. “Always knew you were the brains of this outfit.” He pulls at Jay-Cee’s belt loops. “C’mon.”
Jay-Cee shakes his head. If he gets naked, there is no way he’s going to be able to keep from coming. It’s going to be hard enough as it is. The sounds Chris makes when Jay-Cee’s mouth is on him should be illegal. More than once, Jay-Cee has come in his pants just from listening to them. But he doesn’t want to come until later.
“Just like this,” he says, placing a hand flat on Chris’s chest. “And Chris?”
Chris looks up, eyes bright blue and glassy with lust. No man should be that beautiful. It’s not fair. Jay-Cee breathes deep, fighting the urge to just strip and ravage Chris. “Enjoy it,” he says a little more breathlessly than he would like. Chris smirks the tiniest bit. He’s not unaware of his effect on Jay-Cee. Brat. Jay-Cee chuckles darkly. “Enjoy it now. Because it’s the last time you’re going to come for a while.”
Now it’s Jay-Cee’s turn to smirk at the way Chris’s eye widen, pupils expanding like an explosion as he shudders under Jay-Cee’s hand. Oh yeah. So worth Jay-Cee’s self-restraint.
He pushes Chris down on the bed and rubs his cock across his lips, just feeling the soft skin. He starts slowly with little licks and kisses. A swipe of the tongue up and around the head.
Chris lays lax on the bed, hips rolling with the feelings, soft sounds of pleasure mixing with deep groans when Jay-Cee hits those extra sensitive spots. Jay-Cee takes his time, using all his knowledge of Chris’s body to bring him right to edge and back, over and over, until they’re both covered in sweat and trembling.
Jay-Cee feels the tremors under his hands, and he pulls slowly off, pushing himself up on his hands to look at Chris. Chris’s skin is flushed from his head to his chest and sweat dampens the hair at his temples and on his forehead. His mouth hangs open as he pants, and his eyes are dark with lust, heavy-lidded with pleasure. But his hands are relaxed on the bed, muscles loose and pliable. He’s riding the waves of pleasure Jay-Cee is creating for him.
Jay-Cee reaches down and clamps his hand around his own dick to stop from coming at the sight. He kneels over Chris, kissing him deeply, licking those perfect lips, pressing Chris to him with a hand behind his neck.
“Jay,” Chris sighs as Jay-Cee slips down his body. The hard nubs of Chris’s nipples draw his mouth, and he licks and sucks one while he pinches the other, then switches until Chris writhes beneath him. His moans are desperate now, and he’s rolling himself harder into Jay-Cee’s body. Jay-Cee can’t stop him now, doesn’t remotely want to. He needs Chris to come soon before Jay-Cee comes just from watching Chris.
Moving back down between Chris’s legs, he slides his hands under Chris’s ass and pulls him into his mouth. He swallows Chris down as deep as he can, tongue working up and down and around, sucking and pressing. There’s no finesse now as his fingers press deep into Chris’s muscles. Chris gets thicker and heavier in his mouth, and he grunts with every pass of Jay-Cee’s tongue.
Jay-Cee leans up and dives down on Chris’s cock until it presses against the back of his mouth. He swallows once, and Chris comes hard with a long, heartfelt groan. Jay-Cee swallows as long as he can and then pulls off quickly while Chris is still coming, pulsing into the air.
Jay-Cee grabs himself again, resting his head on Chris’s thighs and panting. That was so goddamn close. He was so close to coming from the feel of Chris throbbing in his mouth. Pulling himself back from the edge verges on pain, and Jay-Cee lets out a shaky, breathless laugh.
“Whasso funny?” Chris mumbles, flailing his hand in the general direction of Jay-Cee’s head. He ends up poking Jay-Cee in the eye.
“Quit it,” Jay-Cee says, pushing him away.
Chris is asleep in the two minutes it takes for Jay-Cee to pull himself together and get naked. He wakes Chris up, makes him take some painkillers. Chris’s knee is propped up, Jay-Cee draped around him from behind. Chris nuzzles into the sleepy kisses Jay-Cee places on the top of his head. Jay-Cee's half-hard cock rubs against Chris’s ass.
“Jay-Cee?” he mumbles, rolling his hips sloppily. “Wanna?”
Jay-Cee runs his hand down Chris’s arm soothingly. “Just sleep. Long night coming up.”
“You say the sweetest things,” Chris mumbles before falling into a deep sleep, Jay-Cee right behind him.
As usual, Jay-Cee wakes up before Chris. He takes the time to make some arrangements for later that night. The garment bags that Chris had been looking at suspiciously hang neatly in the closet. There are tuxes in their for both of them. Jay-Cee had picked them up at the front desk. They’re off the rack, but hotel’s tailor is going to be up in an hour to make them look as best he can.
Chris will be thrilled. He loves dressing up, but working with paint and clay and metal all day doesn’t lend itself to nice clothing. Put Chris in a suit, and even more heads turn than normal. Chris in a tux, well that is enough stop conversation dead. He was born into money, and it shows in how he moves through a crowd as if he expects every eye to be on him.
Jay-Cee’s cock stirs at the visual. Oh, yeah, Chris needs to get up now.
“Hey.” He smacks Chris’s feet. “Time to wake up. We’ve got a date.”
Chris burrows into the pillow, shrugging the covers higher up his body. “I‘m pretty much a sure thing, Jay-Cee. Don’t have to buy me dinner.” He wiggles suggestively against the mattress, spreading his legs. “Come back to bed. I’ll show you.”
“Brat. Get up.” He smacks Chris on the ass this time. He sits on the edge of the bed, sliding his hand down Chris’s back as he pushes the duvet towards the foot of the bed. The air trapped beneath the covers is warm and smells like Chris. “Come on, Chris. I want to dress you up, take you out, and watch people want you.”
Chris turns his head to Jay-Cee, eye dark, arms still crossed under the pillow. “Yeah?”
Jay-Cee’s hand slips under Chris’s boxers, and he squeezes Chris’s ass, dragging his finger along the crack. He hears the hitch in his breathing. “Yeah. Now get up.”
Sharing the huge bathroom isn’t a problem, and the walk-in shower easily accommodates the both of them. He owns Chris in the shower, relaxing him with hands and mouth, keeping him on edge but not pushing him over. It’s a close call for both of them when he sits Chris on the counter, steps between his spread legs, and shaves the light blonde stubble off his face with a straight razor.
Chris is panting, and his cock feels like iron when Jay-Cee brushes against it. “Jay-Cee,” he breathes out.
Jay-Cee wipes the last bit of shaving cream off his face. “Not yet.”
The way Chris’s eyes light up when he sees the tuxedos earns him a heated make-out session against the mirrored doors of the closet. Jay-Cee’s hard as a rock, but he just laughs when the knock at the door comes. He squeezes Chris’s equally hard dick. “Better get that under control. It’s going to makes it awfully hard for the tailor to concentrate if your dick is in his face.”
“Fuck you,” Chris says, jumping into the bathroom while Jay-Cee goes to answer the door.
“No jerking off!” Jay-Cee yells to Chris’s retreating back.
“I repeat, fuck you,” Chris shouts back.
Watching Chris getting fitted in the tuxedo is better than porn. Jay-Cee fixes the different stages into his mind, snapshots for the spankbank. Chris barefoot with the too-long pants hanging over his feet. Chris lounging against the dresser in the white shirt and boxers while the tailor works on the jacket. When Chris is done, Jay-Cee crowds in closely, learning how all the hidden buttons and clasps come together. He’s going to need to know how to take the tux off and put it back on.
When it’s his turn to be fitted, he puts on a show for Chris. He knows how he looks, standing there shirtless in just the trousers. When he tries on the shirt, Chris’s eyes track the muscles of his chest and arms when he yawns, stretching his shoulders against the thin white fabric. He sees the heat in Chris’s glance when he tries on the vest. A quick check in the mirror lets him see how the thin lapels of the waistcoat make his shoulders appear even broader.
Jay-Cee’s dying by the time the tailor finishes with some muttered compliments on their taste in clothing, the fitness of their bodies, and how nice it is to work on some quality tuxedos for change. He practically pushes the guy out the door while he’s saying something about rappers and their lack of fashion sense.
Time for the second part of this plan. Thank God. If he doesn’t get his hands on Chris soon, he won’t be responsible for what happens. He quickly undoes his pants. Chris stands in front of the mirror, fully dressed, trying to hold back a pleased smiled at his reflection. He damn well should be pleased; he looks like a fucking movie star. Jay-Cee crowds right up behind him, grabbing him by the shoulders and flips him around. “Strip.”
Chris’s eyes widen, as does his smirk. “Like what you see?”
Jay-Cee’s so not in the mood. After blowing Chris, sleeping next to him, the shower and shaving and now the goddamn tux, Jay-Cee is so hard he’s trembling. The only thing keeping him from ripping the suit off is the plans he has for later in the evening.
He doesn’t talk as he strips the jacket from Chris and starts on the bow tie. Chris just stands there, letting Jay-Cee work on the buttons and hooks, cursing under his breath at the complicated way the shirt, waistcoat, and trousers hook together.
When the pants are free, Jay-Cee shoves them down, flips Chris back around, and pulls his hips out so Chris’s forced to brace himself on the mirror. Jay-Cee reaches out, fumbling for the pump bottle of lube he put out before along with one of Chris’s favorite toys. With no preliminaries, Jay-Cee slides two lube-slick fingers into Chris. Chris rises on his toes as he struggles to adjust to the sensation. “Jeez, Jay-Cee, warn -”
“No talking,” Jay-Cee hisses between his teeth, pushing harder, stretching Chris out. Their reflection in the mirror is almost too much, Chris’s head hanging down between his shoulders, breath fogging the mirror with each exhale. His cock is hard. In the mirror’s reflection, Jay-Cee looks wild, color high in cheeks, as he pumps his fingers in and out of Chris’s ass.
Chris is silent except for the desperate panting. He whines as Jay-Cee slips his fingers out. It cuts off with a sharp inhale when Jay-Cee grabs his hair, forcing his head up so their eyes meet in the mirror. He holds Chris’s hip, rubbing his dick up and down Chris’s ass so there is no question about what’s happening next. “Don’t come,” he orders, yanking on Chris’s hair for emphasis.
Releasing Chris’s hair, he slicks up his cock, then kicks Chris’s feet wider as he presses against the not-quite-loose-enough opening. Chris grunts and goes back up on his toes, but Jay-Cee doesn’t stop.
He knows Chris likes the burn, they both do. He pushes until his hips are flush with Chris’s ass until he’s in as far as he can go. The heat and the clutch are too much to bear, and Jay-Cee just goes with it, not trying to hold back.
Chris’s face is red and tight in the mirror with the strain of not coming. Jay-Cee wants to make Chris feel so good, so loved, that he can’t think; he doesn’t want to torture him. Taking too long here would cross the line into cruel. He grips the base of Chris’s cock just on the wrong side of tight. “Don’t come,” he rasps out. “God, Don’t come.” He pulls out and slams back in, once, twice, three times, and he’s coming, trembling and cursing, shooting long and hard, filling Chris up.
He’s still panting with the aftershocks as he reaches behind him to grab the butt plug he’d set out. Not the biggest they have, but just right for Chris to wear all night and still be able to walk almost normally. He smooths Chris’s shirt with this clean hand. “So good. So good, Chris.” He meets Chris’s eyes in the mirror.
Beautiful, he thinks but doesn’t say.
He holds up the plug. “I want you to keep this in tonight. Keep me in. When all those people are looking at you, wanting you, I want you to remember who you belong to.”
Chris’s eyes are almost solid black, just a thin circle of bright blue around the edge, and his cock twitches hard, leaking. Jay-Cee takes a breath and pulls slowly out of Chris. Not breaking eye contact, he slides the plug in. The easy way Chris opens for it makes his cock jerk as his body attempts to come again. Christ, Chris is going to be the death of him.
Showing Chris off is always a rush for Jay-Cee, and he doesn’t get to do it nearly enough. He loves the way people look at Chris, loves the odd sense of pride and the rush of lust that comes from knowing that everybody wants, but only Jay-Cee gets to have. Chris’s accused him of being possessive, but he doesn’t know the half of it. Doesn’t know the hours Jay-Cee’s spent fantasizing about collars, locked bracelets, or permanent marks on Chris’s gorgeous skin.
But that’s not for tonight. Tonight, he pulls Chris up against him and pushes his head to one side, looking for the bruise he’d put there earlier. It’s fading, not good. Jay-Cee latches on to that same spot, sucking and worrying at the skin until Chris whines.
He doesn’t try to pull away, though, just stands there, cock hard and aching, Jay-Cee’s come in his ass and his mark on his neck. Jay-Cee is painfully aware of the size of the gift Chris gives him every time they are together and, like every time, vows to be worthy of it.
He’s unable to speak as he gently cleans up. Chris is silent too, as Jay-Cee pulls the tuxedo pants back up, buttons them, and fixes Chris until not a hair is out of place. He leans in and kisses Chris gently. “Okay?” he asks, checking in, as Chris shifts, getting used to the feel of the silicone plug. Jay-Cee reaches between them, palms Chris’s half-hard cock. “Do you want the cock ring?” he asks.
Chris shakes his head, eyes down, long lashes casting a shadow on his cheek. Jay-Cee has to kiss him, can’t stop. Chris clutches at his arms, holding on, as he kisses Jay-Cee back desperately.
Jay-Cee smiles as he pulls back. “One last thing,” he says, stepping away and reaching behind the dresser and pulling out a silver-tipped black walking stick.
Chris’s smile is genuine as he reaches for it. Turning back to the mirror, he strikes a pose then straightens up and twirls it. “I don’t suppose there’s a knife in here?” he asks wryly.
Jay-Cee’s grin is positively wicked. “Of course there is."
Chris smile threatens to split his face as he tugs at the handle of the walking stick. It gives easily, and the long wicked-looking knife slides out smoothly. “Oh, Jay.” His eyes flash as he looks at Jay-Cee. “Awesome.”
The evening is everything Jay-Cee had hoped. Dinner at the steakhouse, their tuxedos matching the 1930s decor. Then some high-stakes Texas Hold’em where Chris kicks ass and takes names while Jay-Cee charms a woman in her sixties and listens to her tell him how gorgeous Chris is and what a lucky man Jay-Cee is. Jay-Cee does not disagree with her and kisses her cheek when he leaves. He kisses Chris slow and deep to a few cheers and claps from the women at the table and a few jealous glances from one or two of the men.
At a rooftop bar, it finally happens the way Jay-Cee knew it would. Chris is walking sex tonight, the slight limp, and the elegant cane drawing everyone’s eyes all the more.
He’s making his way back to Chris, fresh drinks in hand, when he sees a stunning woman in a gravity-defying evening gown flirting with Chris. Touching his arm, touching her hair, leaning over, drawn by hit youth and beauty and elegance.
He walks up to them, knowing the smile on his face is tight. Too bad, people are allowed to want Chris but not to touch. Chris’s smile is wide and happy. He takes the scotch from Jay-Cee’s hand. “Gracias, Jay-Cee.” He clinks their glasses together and turns to the woman. “Esperanza, this is Jay-Cee.” He waves his glass between them. “Jay-Cee, Esperanza Baseñez. She’s a TV star.” The woman laughs, a lovely rippling sound.
“Nice to meet you,” Jay-Cee manages to get out. He holds up his glass in an apology. “Sorry I didn’t bring you anything. I didn’t know Chris had company.”
“It’s quite alright. Chris grabbed me some of this delicious tequila.” Her Spanish-accented English is as delightful as she is beautiful. Not just stunning, she looks intelligent and sophisticated. Jay-Cee shifts a little closer to Chris, shoulders brushing, and she gives Jay-Cee an appraising look. He rests his hand on the back of Chris’s neck, thumb brushing over the obvious bruise below his ear. Chris presses into his touch, and her look turns darker, heated. She gives Jay-Cee an up and down look, obviously happy with what she sees.
“So, what brings you here?” Jay-Cee asks, taking a sip of his two-hundred-dollar scotch bought with Chris’s poker winnings. Oh, he could get used to that.
She frowns. “Work. I’m in a telenovela, and we are shooting some scenes in Las Vegas.” She motions to the neon lights of the Strip below them. “There are some locations you cannot fake on a sound stage.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Chris toasts. “To Las Vegas. It’s one of a kind.” The clink glasses together.
“So, Chris tells me you are here celebrating a successful year in business.” She shifts closer to Chris, resting a hand on his arm.
He looks at Chris. “Well, no one died. So I that’s good.”
“I’ll drink to that, too,” Chris says, taking a big sip. “Ah. Good stuff, Jay-Cee.” Normally he doesn’t drink at all, but every now and then he allows himself a few, especially when they are like this and he trusts Jay-Cee to watch out for him.
They sip in silence for a moment until Esperanza takes a few steps away and Chris follows her. Jay-Cee follows Chris. Making small talk, they eventually find their way to a darker corner of the bar. Chris and Esperanza sit angled toward each other on the L-shaped couch. Jay-Cee sits on the arm, near Chris. He leans his arm heavily across Chris’s shoulder.
As they talk, and the tequila and scotch flows, Esperanza gets bolder, including Jay-Cee in her attentions. Jay-Cee starts leaning into Chris, hand on the back of his neck, pushing him rhythmically into the couch, knowing that the plug inside of him will be shifting with each small thrust. Jay-Cee’s hand tightens and loosens on Chris’s neck in the same rhythm. Jay-Cee’s not really paying attention to what they’re talking about, but when Esperanza takes Chris’s hand in both of hers and runs her finger down the lifeline in the middle of his palm, Chris adjusts his pants and shifts uncomfortably. It’s time to go.
The conversation sputters to a stop as he stands. “Chris,” is all he says, and Chris stands up as well. Jay-Cee turns to the now-confused Esperanza. “I’m sorry, but we have to go. We have somewhere to be.”
Flustered, Esperanza stands. “Well, of course, if you must go.” She pulls herself together, gives her best smile. She is really a stunning woman and probably not used to people rejecting her advances, no matter how politely done.
Jay-Cee shakes his head in what he hopes is a suitably disappointed fashion. “I’m so sorry. Really, truly sorry. But we’re only here for tonight. And we have plans.”
She raises one eyebrow and gives them both one final long look and shakes her head in defeat. “No, I am the one who is sorry. I would have loved to see you two together.”
He feels Chris inhale, and before he can speak, he slides his hands down to Chris’s ass, fingers digging into the material and pushing hard against the plug. “Goodnight,” he tells her. A couple of cheek kisses and she swishes off into the night, perfume lingering in the hot night air.
Jay-Cee doesn’t let Chris say anything, just drags him by the hand into the plush bathroom, locking the door behind them. He pushes Chris against the marble counter, hands fumbling with his own pants as he pulls his cock out. Grabbing Chris by the labels, he pulls him in for a bruising kiss as he turns them, backing Chris into a low velvet bench against one wall. Chris sits heavily as the back of his knees hit the bench, groaning as the plug is driven up into him.
Jay-Cee grabs Chris’s chin in one hand, pulling his cock out with the other. He squeezes against the hinges of Chris’s jaw. “Suck me,” he orders. “Get me nice and hard and wet so I can fuck you again.”
Chris’s eyes are half-closed as he leans forward to grasps Jay-Cee’s semi-hard cock. He licks his lips, looking up at Jay-Cee through his eyelashes as he leans forward. Jay-Cee makes a show of looking at his watch. “I’d make it good and fast if I were you, Chris. However long it takes you to get me to where I want to be, that’s how long I’m going to fuck you for. And, unlike me, you still don’t get to come.”
Chris’s hand tightens around Jay-Cee’s cock, and his inhale is shaky, but he bends down and goes for it. His mouth is hot and wet and tight. His tongue spirals up and down Jay-Cee’s dick, pressing and flicking at all Jay-Cee’s sensitive spots. It’s an attack, an onslaught of pleasure, and the moans Chris is making around Jay-Cee’s cock are going to make Jay-Cee lose it. Chris can never get enough of Jay-Cee’s cock in his mouth. Jay-Cee’s woken up to enough blow jobs to really appreciate Chris’s oral fixation. He holds out as long as he can, jaw clenched to keep the fucks and the oh gods and please Chris from falling out, but after three minutes and a particularly wicked twist of Chris’s hand, Jay-Cee has to push Chris off. “Stop, stop,” he pants. “Fuck. Chris, fuck.” He bends over, hands on his thighs as he struggles not to come.
Chris’s lips are red and swollen, shiny with spit and Jay-Cee’s pre-come. His cheeks are flushed, and his eyes are glassy, and Jay-Cee just has to kiss him. He tastes like whiskey and sex, and Jay-Cee is so frustrated with all the fucking fastening on Chris’s fucking pants. He’s one second away from just ripping the buttons off, when he feels Chris’s hands on his, stilling him. Not looking up, Chris moves Jay-Cee’s hands away and slowly undoes the fastenings on his pants.
“Chris,” Jay-Cee whispers, reaching out to run his hand across Chris’s jaw. When Chris’s finished, he just drops his arms to the side and leans into Jay-Cee, resting his head on Jay-Cee’s shoulder. The small tremors rolling down Jay-Cee’s body are echoed in Chris’s as he reaches down to grasp the silicone base of the plug. “Ready?”
Chris nods. They both groan as the widest part breaches the ring of muscle and the plug slides out.
“Fuck, Chris,” Jay-Cee whispers as his fingers slide through the come leaking from Chris. He slides up, gathering it as he goes, and pushes it back in.
Chris’s mouth is open and pressed against Jay-Cee’s neck. Jay-Cee feels the vibration of Chris’s trembling lips, feels Chris tongue tracing patterns on his skin. Jay-Cee hooks an ankle around the leg of the bench at pulls it from the wall. “Lay down. On your stomach,” he orders.
He has to close his eyes as Chris does what Jay-Cee asks. He might try to convince himself that this is all for Chris, but the dark thrill that goes through him when Chris is like this - pliant, obedient - can’t be denied. Blame it on his past, the person he was trained to be, but every time they’re at this place, Jay-Cee wants to push a little harder, go a little further. See how much Chris can take, how much he’ll let Jay-Cee do.
Tonight it looks like Chris will let Jay-Cee put him facedown on a velvet-covered bench, straddle him, and fuck him hard and fast and loud until Jay-Cee is coming deep into Chris. Chris’s hands are white-knuckled where they grip the edge of the bench, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He rests his forehead between Chris’s shoulder blades, panting, trying to get his breathing and heart rate back to normal.
Chris rolls his head back and forth like he’s stretching his neck, so Jay-Cee slides forward and gently turns it so that he can kiss Chris, sweet and soft, again and again. He lifts off Chris without breaking contact with his mouth, kneeling in front of him, pressing lips together until Chris stops trembling and his fingers unclench. He finally lets his head hang down, and Jay-Cee straightens up, fingers sliding up Chris’s face and through his hair. “Stay there,” he says, probably unnecessarily, but he doesn’t want Chris to think he’s forgetting him or leaving him.
Jay-Cee pulls himself together and grabs the plug and the opened packet of lube and walks to the sink. He washes and relubes the plug, then sits on the edge of the bench by Chris’s hip. Chris rolls his head to watch as Jay-Cee caresses him. “I’m going to put this back in, okay?”
Chris nods and the way he slides his good knee up, lifting his ass off the bench, knocks the air out Jay-Cee’s lungs. To see Chris so vulnerable, so - there’s no other word for it - submissive, makes Jay-Cee’s heart clench with the fierce knowledge that this is just for him, just for them. No one else gets to even know about this side of Chris, let alone see it. And Jay-Cee will protect it with his dying breath.
He slides the plug in, and Chris gives a soft, breathy moan. They stay like that for a second, Jay-Cee rubbing gently up and down Chris’s ass and lower back. Then he stands, nudging Chris’s hip with his knee. “Come on, baby. I’ve got one more surprise for you.”
Chris groans and rolls onto his side. Jay-Cee can’t hide his smile at the red flush across Chris’s face and the affection in his eyes. “One more surprise is gonna kill me, Jay-Cee.”
“You’re a big boy. I have faith,” He holds out his hand. Chris grasps it, pulling himself up with a groan. His nose scrunches up, and he shimmies a little to get used to the plug again and pull his trousers up at the same time. He exhales sharply through his nose as he yanks the pants closed, blush spreading up to his ears, and Jay-Cee knows he’s clenching and unclenching his ass around the plug.
Jay-Cee pulls him close, tucking and smoothing his shirt and jacket. He stops with his hands on Chris’s lapel, looking down at Chris. Chris looks back up with a shy smile. “Beautiful,” Jay-Cee says, leaning down for a kiss.