Scott melts in Carter’s hands, like Carter’s flipped a switch. He drifts away from the wall, leaning into Carter’s grasp, until Carter has him close enough that he can touch his lips to Scott’s and whisper, “That’s good, Scott, that’s good. Keep your eyes closed. Relax.”

“Yes,” Scott breathes, air hissing through his teeth. Carter kisses him again, needing to feel that breath leave Scott’s body, needing to feel him gasp, and Scott’s lips are slack; he doesn’t kiss Carter back, and Carter’s not sure if he can.

He pushes Scott back against the wall and Scott’s head bumps the plaster. A flash of intense heat shoots through Carter’s gut when Scott winces and jerks in Carter’s hands.

“Shhh,” Carter says, stamping down hard on that burn of arousal and staring at Scott with wide eyes. It’s a little terrifying, that reaction. He wants to pull his hands away and wrap Scott up in a big, fluffy blanket and never let anything hurt him again. But more than that, he wants to tighten his grip, watch Scott’s face go tense and hear those breathy little gasps of pain escaping him. He wants more. He wants to push. And that scares him. He keeps a tight hold on his own desires for now. This is about Scott.

He grits his teeth and forces himself to take a shaking breath. “Scott... I want... Is this okay? Are you okay?”

Slowly -- very slowly -- Scott nods. He doesn’t open his eyes, and his voice, when he speaks, is almost unrecognizable, almost like Scott’s in a trance, pitched low and smooth and so slow. It’s like speaking in slow motion.

“Good. It’s...good, it’s better,” Scott says. Then he takes a deep breath, air stuttering through the pressure of Carter’s fingers, and lets just one word come out on the exhale. “More.”

A shiver races down Carter’s spine and he finds himself nodding, even though Scott can’t see him. “Okay, baby, that’s it, just let the quiet surround you. Listen to my voice and block out everything else. Just hear me now. Don’t open your eyes, just listen to me, Scott.”

Scott takes a long, shuddering breath that Carter can feel through the palms of his hands. He wonders if he’s holding Scott too tightly, if he should ease up and let Scott breathe normally, and for just a second he starts to loosen his grip on Scott’s neck. But in the next moment, Scott winces again and gives a high whine, pressing up toward Carter’s fingers, chasing the touch, and Carter can’t, he can’t ignore what every instinct in his body is telling him to do. He tightens his grip, pressing hard, too hard into Scott’s fragile flesh, and Scott relaxes again, his face going easy and peaceful even as he struggles for breath.

“Okay, baby. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“Yes,” Scott says, with just the barest hint of sound. “Yes, Carter.” Carter watches Scott’s lips press together, forming his name, and he kisses them, so very soft and gentle. He doesn’t want to break Scott’s fragile mood, not while he’s so inexplicably... perfect. Beautiful.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, then moves to kiss Scott’s cheek, the side of his nose, his eyelid. He presses closer with his body until they’re touching from chest to thigh, and Scott’s sandwiched between Carter and the wall. He takes some of Scott’s weight with his body and lifts one hand to brush Scott’s hair out of the way.

Scott’s lips are still moving minutely, repeating Carter’s name over and over again in near-silent whispers, and this time Carter bares his teeth and scrapes them across Scott’s lower lip. He pulls away almost immediately, before Scott has time to react.

“You feel me touching you, Scott? Feel my body, listen to my voice.”

“Yes,” Scott whispers.

“This is everything right now. I’m everything. I’m all that’s here. I’m all that’s touching you.”

“You’re everything.”

“That’s right, Scott, that’s good.” He brushes his lips over Scott’s, the mere hint of a kiss. “I want you to keep your eyes closed, okay? Don’t open your eyes, Scott. Just listen to me, just listen to my voice.”

“Yes.”

Carter takes a careful step backwards, slowly peeling himself away and putting some space between them. Scott sways forward, surprised by the sudden space. Carter slides his hand down from Scott’s throat, stroking over his shoulder and all the way down to his hand.

“I’ve got you, Scott. I’ve got you. Don’t open your eyes.”

For a long moment, all Carter can do is watch Scott and remind himself to breathe. He’s never seen Scott look like this. He’s never seen anyonelook like this. It’s in the way Scott is trying so hard to hold himself still and not quite managing it, shaking just a little as he leans against the wall, in the rasp of his breathing, too loud, too desperate...and more than anything in the look on his face. Scott hardly looks like himself, so unselfconscious, so calm, so...open. Even his eyelids are still, his eyes not moving behind them, as if he’s afraid Carter will know. It makes Carter want to test that openness, see just how far he can take Scott before he starts to break. His hands clench into fists, nails digging into his palms, and he bites down hard into his own lip. Careful. He has to be careful.

“Scott,” he says softly. “Listen to my voice. Come to me, Scott. Come forward.”

Scott seems hesitant to move, and certainly wary of leaving the safety of the wall and its known boundaries, but he clenches his eyes shut and extends a hand into the air in front of him and takes a step towards Carter. Then another. And Carter opens his arms and lets Scott fall into them. Scott’s hands are braced on Carter’s chest, but he doesn’t cling, like Carter expected; his palms are flat against Carter’s shirt, and his index fingers rub at the fabric a little, but otherwise he’s completely still. Carter reaches between them and closes his hands around Scott’s wrists. He lets his gaze fall away from Scott’s face to stare down at their hands, at the way his fingers wrap so easily around Scott’s wrists, his black-painted nails cutting a stark contrast against Scott’s pale skin. He tightens his grip experimentally, until he can feel the delicate bones straining under his hands, and he wonders if -- hopes there will be bruises, the shapes of his fingers pressed into Scott like a tattoo. He can feel Scott’s pulse pounding away under his skin, racing, like an echo of his own heartbeat, a quick stuttering rhythm in his chest that makes him think yes and right and more as he drags his eyes back up to watch Scott’s face.

“Come with me, Scott. I’ve got you, it’s okay. Just follow me.” Carter takes a careful step back and Scott mirrors him, and though it’s obviously a struggle for him, he does it all without opening his eyes. Carter turns, facing forward, and pulls Scott with him, leading him now rather than guiding, with one hand still clasped tight around Scott’s wrist.

Eventually, they make it to the staircase. Carter takes a step up, then turns around and pulls Scott within reach of the bottom step. “Up the stairs now, baby,” he whispers, leaning in. “Take a step. I’ve got you.”

Scott’s wrist twists in Carter’s hand, breaks free of his grip only so that Scott can grab him, cling tightly as he lifts his foot and feels for the first step. He stumbles a bit, and Carter half expects him to open his eyes, at least to find his footing. But Scott just squeezes his eyes closed tighter and clutches at Carter until he’s safe on the step, and Carter watches him with wide eyes and a pleased smile he wishes Scott could see.

“That’s right, baby, that’s so good. So good for me. Come on, another one just like that,” Carter says, taking another backwards step up and waiting for Scott to follow. They make it all the way to the top in the same slow fashion, and Carter’s breathing hard at the end, like he’s been running instead of taking one careful step at a time. He has a feeling he’s never going to look at these stairs in the same way ever again.

It’s much easier to navigate to the bedroom, but Scott doesn’t stop clinging to Carter’s hand. Carter leads him to the center of the room and kisses him gently on the mouth, dipping his tongue between Scott’s lips just for a taste of him. Scott takes a deep breath and stands at ease, finally, and he lets Carter’s hand go when Carter pulls away and leaves him alone.

“Stay there,” he says. “Don’t move, baby. You’re so good, Scott, just stay exactly like that.”

Carter takes his eyes off Scott for the first time in... a long time. It feels like he’s been watching Scott all night, all week. Cataloguing every expression, every reaction, especially now that Scott’s calm and obedient in a way Carter’s never seen him before. Carter sinks to his knees as quietly as he can to get a few things out of the bottom drawer of his dresser, but he can’t help glancing back over his shoulder, just for a second, to see if Scott’s still exactly where Carter left him.

He is. Of course he is. Carter smiles. He takes a cloth blindfold out of the drawer, and then finds a set of padded leather cuffs buried among a mix of toys, props, and gag gifts. It’s been years since he’s used them; they’re not the fashion accessories he likes to wear himself. Hunter picked these out, and Carter’s almost positive they haven’t been around any other pair of wrists since. They’re still soft and pliable when Carter bends them, so he pushes any worry for Scott’s wrists aside and slides the drawer closed. He takes off his shoes while he’s down on the floor, and pads around Scott to the bed in just his socks, as quiet as he can be, to set down the cuffs where he’ll need them later.

Scott’s head turns just slightly, tracking Carter’s movement around the room while his eyes flutter wildly behind his closed lids, but otherwise he remains completely still, all the tension gone from his body. Carter steps up behind him and stretches the blindfold between his hands, pulling the fabric taut.

“Keep your eyes closed, baby,” he murmurs. “I’m gonna blindfold you now, so you don’t have to worry about not peeking. Okay? You’re doing so good. Stay still, baby. Just focus on my voice.” He fits the blindfold over Scott’s eyes, ties it tightly around the back of his head, and Scott shivers, dipping down a little when Carter stops pulling the laces.

“Stay still, Scott,” Carter tells him, pitching his voice a little harder, a little more demanding. The harshness of his tone shocks even Carter, but Scott’s already so far gone. Carter doesn’t want him to zone out completely, too deep in wherever he’s gone to in his own head to even follow Carter’s commands. “You’re okay, you’re fine now. You can wait for me.”

And the beautiful thing is, Scott does. His back straightens, and his stance gets stronger, more solid, and he even raises his chin, for maybe the first time all night. Carter flashes back to the restaurant, to how Scott had looked sitting across the table from him, glancing everywhere at nothing, biting his lip raw, hands fidgeting endlessly, and he can’t help it, has to step forward and press the length of his body up against Scott’s back, encompass Scott’s body in his arms and just hold tight. Scott is so different from anyone Carter’s ever been with before, even Hunter, who liked to play these kinky games with handcuffs and blindfolds. Scott’s not...easy, in the way they were, confident in their own lives, their own bodies, their own desires. Instead, he’s a challenge, a puzzle to be solved. Carter tilts his head down to lick a kiss into Scott’s neck. He wants that challenge. He wants to open Scott up and see everything he’s been hiding inside, all the bits and pieces he’s shoved away into the deepest corners of his mind. He wants Scott to tell him all the ways he’s not good enough, and he wants to touch him until he can’t even remember what they were, mind full of nothing but Carter.

“I’m going to take your clothes off now. You don’t need them. You never need them with me. You never need to hide from me.” The words spill out of them before he can even think, but Carter finds that he does want this from Scott; he desperately wants Scott to feel comfortable with him.

He curls his hands in the bottom of Scott’s shirt and slowly draws it upward, and Scott lifts his arms for Carter to pull the shirt off and toss it aside. Scott’s arms drop back down to his sides immediately after, and it’s the first time Carter’s ever seen Scott not try to cover himself. Carter has free reign to touch Scott’s bare stomach, his chest, his nipples, fuck, his nipples, tiny and round under Carter’s fingertips, slowly hardening into points as Carter teases and teases over them in little circles. Scott’s head falls back onto Carter’s shoulder, his lips parting in a moan, and Carter looks down and watches as he draws his fingers tight in twin pinches. It’s barely enough to hurt, he thinks, but he can still feel the reaction in Scott’s body, the jerk of his muscles as Carter toys with him. It feels amazing, manipulating Scott like this, and he doesn’t want to stop just yet, not quite ready to move on to the rest of his plans. Instead, he pulls his fingers away, just for a second, just long enough to drag his tongue over the pads of his thumbs, wetting them one after the other. He brings them back to Scott’s hard nipples quickly, rubbing the bit of slickness over the sensitive flesh there and then moving his hands away. And when he leans down over Scott’s shoulder and blows a cool breath over Scott’s chest, he’s rewarded with the most delicious shiver he’s ever felt, a tremble that goes all the way through Scott’s body and right into Carter, making his cock twitch into hardness and his breath catch in his throat.

Carter brings his hand to his mouth, licks his palm thoroughly, then reaches around Scott and slides his hand beneath Scott’s tight waistband. He gropes for Scott’s cock, holds it in his palm, rubs the slickness over him as much as he can in the hot, confined space, then quickly withdraws his hand and yanks Scott’s pants down around his thighs. Scott gasps and jerks forward, like he wants to cover himself, protect his cock from the rush of cold air, but his hands don’t stray from his sides. He holds them in loose fists, and though his thighs tense with the effort of keeping still and his chest heaves as he gasps, Scott doesn’t move from his position at all.

Carter licks the shell of Scott’s ear and blows across it. Scott shivers again. “So good, baby,” Carter whispers. “You’re doing so well. Wanna tell me how it feels?” Scott gasps and shakes his head, as Carter had expected, and he reaches down again to graze his nails lightly over the length of Scott's cock. “That's okay, baby, you don't have to say a word. It feels good though, doesn't it? You like me touching you like this.”

The last words are a statement, not a question, and Scott just lets out a shaking breath and presses back closer into Carter, so willing, so ready. Waiting.

Carter hooks his thumbs into Scott’s pants again where they’re cutting into the outsides of his thighs, and sinks down to his knees, making sure to stay pressed as close to Scott as he can as he drags the jeans to the floor. Scott’s right hand flexes open, his fingers stiff with tension. Carter leans forward and rubs his cheek against the curve of Scott’s ass, around to his hip, and he watches Scott relax, watches his fingers curl again. Carter kisses the crease where ass meets thigh and murmurs, “That’s good, baby. You’re okay.”

He touches Scott’s ankle next, guides his foot up carefully to pull the jeans off, then repeats with his other foot, and throws the bundle of denim across the room, well out of the way. He's left on his knees behind Scott, his hands running up and down Scott's legs, feeling for himself the effort Scott's putting into staying upright. He moves a hand to skate up the inside of Scott's thighs, slowly, inexorably, until he's reaching between his legs and grabbing his balls in the palm of his hand, not holding tight enough to hurt, but not giving Scott a chance to move either. He watches as Scott's knees start to buckle at the touch, putting more pressure on his balls as Carter doesn't give an inch, and grins when Scott straightens right back up at the spark of pain. It only takes one hand, one touch to have Scott doing exactly what Carter wants, and the head rush he gets from that knowledge is incredible, like being high. Better.

He’s never felt so in control, not even with Hunter, who played at surrender, pretended to give in when Carter held him down, and it’s addictive to know Scott’s at his mercy. No one’s let him do this before. Scott’s listening to him, following his instructions, and all his reactions are genuine. There’s no pretense of a game, with Scott. It’s all real, and it’s thrilling.

He tightens his hand slightly, slowly, carefully, and pulls just a little. Just enough. Scott whines and Carter looks up to see his shoulders hunch forward, and his hands clench into fists, and Carter can’t stamp down the impulse to open his mouth wide and scrape his teeth across Scott’s ass. He gets a mound of flesh between his teeth and bites down, gently at first, until Scott moans. Carter shifts his stance and moves his mouth to the other cheek, and this time he doesn’t restrain himself. He bites down hard and Scott’s hips rock forward, pulling his balls tight, stretched between his legs in Carter’s fist.

“Fuck, Carter,” Scott gasps, panting hard now. Carter steadies him with a hand on his hip, and Scott stands up straighter, easing the tug on his balls.

“Breathe, Scott,” Carter tells him, and waits for Scott to take three deep, shaking breaths. Carter watches the curve of his spine, looks for the moment when the tension disappears from Scott’s shoulders. He wants Scott completely relaxed, unprepared, before he makes his next move.

When Carter’s finally satisfied, he drags his hand around from Scott’s hip and slides his fingers into the crease of his ass, pulling his cheeks apart just enough for Carter to lean in and lick a hot, wet stripe over Scott’s asshole. He laves his tongue there, making Scott wet and listening to his careful breaths go wild above him, and then he sits back on his heels and blows cool air over the skin shining with spit. Scott’s thighs shake and his knees dip and Carter’s hand goes tight around his balls, eliciting a loud, surprised cry of Carter’s name. Scott’s knees buckle completely then and he goes down fast--but Carter can almost predict it happening. He sees Scott fall in his mind’s eye, and he’s there before it even happens, with his arm around Scott’s waist and one curved under his thighs, cradling him.

“Carter, Carter,” Scott says quickly, flailing his hands around and nearly hitting Carter in the face before he figures out how to wrap his arm around Carter’s neck. Carter sits with Scott in his arms, sprawled across his lap, for a long moment before leaning down to nuzzle Scott’s cheek.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you. I said I would, didn’t I? I told you. I’ve got you. You’re okay. Scott, you’re okay.”

“Yes,” Scott whispers. “Yes. Carter.”

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Shhh.” Scott's hands are still clutching at the air, and Carter can practically see his eyes open and searching under the blindfold, trying to get his bearings. He leans down and presses a deep kiss to Scott's lips, slow and steadying, and he hardly pulls back to whisper into Scott's mouth. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m looking out for you.”

Scott relaxes in Carter’s arms, and he feels so small, fits perfectly in Carter’s lap like this. Carter can hold him, carry him, even. Carter can take care of him. No one else has given him this much, and he wants to keep chasing it, this rush of nurturing and love. Scott’s the only boy to let Carter really take care of him in the ways Carter knows he’ll be good at, the only one to let Carter do the things he’s always thought he’d be able to do.

Scott pants against Carter's lips, his body sprawled in Carter's arms, and suddenly Carter needs to prove to Scott that he's telling the truth, needs to show Scott how secure he can be even after a fall. He slides one arm under Scott's knees and the other around his shoulders and stands, lifting him as easy as anything, Scott resting heavy and warm against his chest. Carter pauses a moment before moving, just holding Scott close, and Scott's arms go around his neck tentatively. Carter smiles and kisses Scott's cheek and says, "That's right, that's good. You can always hold onto me, baby. You never have to ask."