Carter carries him over to the bed and sets him down carefully. Scott flattens his hands on either side of his body, feeling out towards the edges of the bed, but Carter grabs his wrists and halts his progress before he finds them. “You’re okay, Scott. Trust me. I’m not gonna put you anywhere you’re not safe,” he says, and Scott’s hands clench once and relax, waiting under Carter’s grip.

Carter stretches Scott’s arms up to the corners of the bed and grabs the soft leather cuffs to hold him there. They’re heavily padded, so Carter doesn’t worry about buckling them too tight--he pulls Scott as spread-eagled as he can go, limbs taut, and binds him there so he can’t move at all. As soon as Scott’s held in place by his wrists and ankles, Carter backs off, gets off the bed completely, and watches Scott’s body. He watches Scott relax into the bonds, sees the limp curl of his fingers and a slow roll of his neck as he settles into the pillow, watches goosebumps spread over his exposed skin. This is something he’s familiar with, finally something he’s done before. Spread a boy out and tease him until he comes; this is something Carter knows how to do. He reaches down to touch, fingers brushing all the most sensitive places -- the back of Scott’s knee, his stomach, the soft, pale skin of his underarms, and watches Scott react to each, startled muscles twitching and breath catching.

Carter gets to his knees next to the bed and reaches out to turn Scott’s head to face him, feeling somehow that it’s important, even though Scott can’t see. He keeps his hand on Scott’s cheek as he speaks. “Nothing can touch you here, Scott. Only me. My hands, my tongue. My voice. That’s all you need, isn’t it? Just me.”

Scott smiles slowly, nuzzling into Carter’s touch. “Yes,” he whispers, so soft Carter reads the word off his lips more than hears it.

“Want me to touch you more?”

“Yes.” This time it’s a bit louder, more desperate, and Scott’s hips move restlessly on the bed, his still-hard cock looking for friction, for heat.

Carter stands up again, slowly so Scott won’t startle, and leans over him to drag his lips along the inside of Scott’s arm. Scott shivers, and his arm jerks tight, pulled taut towards the corner of the bed. Carter pokes his tongue out and licks along the same path, leaving a wet stripe following the curve of Scott’s bicep. He imagines he can taste the colors inked into Scott’s skin and smiles, ending in a kiss near Scott’s elbow.

Scott makes a soft, wordless noise and turns his head to the opposite side, away from Carter, exposing the long, thick tendons in his neck. He’s flushed pink, warm, and Carter has to duck down to kiss him there. He pulls Scott’s skin between his lips and sucks gently, almost tasting the blood pulsing through Scott’s veins. He wants to bite, and he stamps down the urge to laugh at himself for being so turned on by a vampire cliché, but it’s so exciting, having Scott’s life bared for him, offered up like it is for Carter to do whatever he wants. He breaks the seal of his lips and grazes his teeth over the mark he left with his tongue. He doesn’t need to bite or break the skin to feel that power, especially with how strongly Scott reacts to him, how he shudders and gasps, how his hips twist as he searches for contact.

By the time he pulls back, Scott’s skin is already darkening, mottled red and purple in the shape of Carter’s mouth. It sends a rush of heat all through him, seeing his mark on Scott like that, and he traces the skin with his fingertips carefully.

“You bruise so easily...” he muses aloud, and Scott moans wordlessly and pushes his head back on the pillow, baring his neck as if asking for more. Carter draws his hand up Scott’s chest and fits it around Scott’s neck again, not hard, not squeezing, just there, letting Scott feel the touch and enjoying the sight. Scott is so much smaller than him, he really is, and sometimes Carter really feels that size difference, the power imbalance inherent in just their physicality. It’s so easy for that to bleed over--Scott makes it so easy. He takes whatever Carter gives him, and Carter wants to give him everything, wants to overwhelm him so completely he doesn’t have room left to think about anything else.

Carter crawls all the way up on the bed, settling between Scott’s spread legs and leaning over him, drinking in the sight of Scott’s pale, unmarked skin all laid out for him like an offering. He places his hands on Scott’s hips, fitting the points of his hipbones in his palms, and touching his thumbs together low on Scott’s belly. He pushes in a little, feeling Scott’s body give under the pressure, and slides his hands upward, pressing firmly on the soft parts of his belly, dragging over the bumps of his ribcage. He squeezes his hands around Scott’s nipples and they rise to points under Carter’s palms, and Scott squirms restlessly, moaning deep in his throat, but Carter doesn’t stay in one place for long. He continues bringing his hands up to Scott’s throat and overlaps his thumbs right above Scott’s Carter’s apple, his fingers curling all the way around to the back of Scott’s neck. But he doesn’t squeeze until he leans down and fits his mouth over Scott’s and kisses him deeply, pulling the air from him.

It’s only a few moments, has to be, but the time seems to stretch out endlessly as Carter kisses, squeezes, kisses deeper, squeezes harder. He can feel Scott starting to go tense under him, his throat working, his head fighting to turn, but Carter doesn’t let go, counting down the seconds until he has to break away. Everything goes hazy, lost in a red-tinted rush of power and pleasure and pride, and it’s hard to focus, almost like he’s the one losing his air. Finally, finally, he forces himself to let go, snatch his hands away and break the seal of their lips and let Scott breathe.

The second Carter frees him, Scott’s gasping through parted lips, taking deep, desperate breaths of cool air. Carter watches his chest rise and fall with it, a rhythm that slows over time as oxygen fills his blood again and soothes the burn in his lungs. Finally, Scott’s face goes calm again, and he lets out a low, satisfied hum. Carter recognizes that face. It’s how Scott looks after sex, after they’ve worn themselves out and can’t even move yet, floating on the rush, the afterglow. It’s as peaceful as he’s ever seen Scott look -- as happy.

He wants to see Scott’s eyes, suddenly. He wants Scott to see him. He needs that connection now. He brings his hands to Scott’s face and gently touches the edges of the fabric.

“Close your eyes, baby,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”

Scott hums in agreement, his lips quirked up at the corners in a soft smile. Carter pushes the blindfold up off his face and tosses it away, revealing Scott’s eyes, closed peacefully, unmoving. Carter bends to kiss each eyelid, just the barest touch of his lips, and then he cups Scott’s cheek in his hand and whispers, “Look at me, Scott. Open.”

Scott opens his eyes smoothly and he meets Carter’s gaze immediately, like he already knew exactly where to look. He stares even as Carter kisses him again, this time on the lips, and doesn’t blink when Carter pulls away from him and sits up. Carter unlatches the cuffs around Scott’s ankles, and then leans over him to take off the ones on his wrists, and Scott doesn’t even try to move.

“Scott,” Carter says. He pushes two fingers into Scott’s open palm, and after a long moment, Scott’s hand closes around them. “Answer me, Scott. How do you feel now?”

“Carter...” Scott breathes.

Carter decides to stick to yes or no questions, at least for now. “Are you calm now?” he asks. “Do you feel better, Scott? Was that good?”

“Yes.”

Scott’s eyes slip closed again and his head lolls back against the pillow. Carter drops down on top of him, pressing their bodies together without letting all of his weight rest on Scott, and cradles the back of Scott’s head with his hand.

“Scott. Look at me. Come back to me now, baby. God, I want--Baby, I want to fuck you, I need you, tell me I can fuck you right now, Scott.”

It takes a moment for Scott to obey and open his eyes again. His mouth is open and he’s rocking his hips up against Carter’s thigh. “Yes, please, Carter, please.”

Scott stays quiet and languid through everything, through Carter stripping quickly, through fingering him open and reaching over him for a condom and pushing in. It’s the easiest it’s ever been, still tight and perfect but without the resistance that’s been there before, and Carter moans low in his throat and wraps Scott up tight in his arms when he bottoms out inside him. Scott watches him the whole time, his eyes almost unnaturally wide, focused entirely on Carter’s face, like it’s all he can see.

It’s strange at first, to be the subject of such intense focus, but Carter can’t look away from Scott either. They’re locked together, connected in so many ways in this one moment, and Carter adjusts Scott’s legs around his waist to bring their bodies closer to each other. He wants to feel Scott’s cock against his belly, wants his hands to slide through the sweat on Scott’s back. He slides his hands under Scott, fitting his palms to the contours of Scott’s shoulders, and Scott lifts his arms and wraps them around Carter’s neck. It’s the first real movement he’s made since Carter uncuffed him, and it’s simple, but it drives the breath from Carter’s lungs. Scott’s fingers dig into Carter’s back, clenching with each of Carter’s thrusts, but he never breaks eye contact, not even when Carter reaches between them and wraps his hand around Scott’s cock, stroking him firmly to the rhythm his hips have set. Scott comes wet and messy between them, and it just blows his eyes out wider, letting Carter see as the orgasm breaks through him. It’s so intense, so open, so trusting, and finally Carter can’t take it any more, just buries his head in Scott’s neck and loses himself in quickening thrusts, biting gently into Scott’s skin again as his own orgasm overtakes him.

Carter cleans them up with the tissues from his nightstand; he doesn’t have the energy for more than that, and Scott doesn’t seem to mind. Scott doesn’t seem to want to let Carter go, actually. Carter gathers Scott in his arms and Scott tucks himself against Carter’s body, curling into him and fitting his head under Carter’s chin like it’s second nature. He’s breathing deeply, but Carter can tell he’s not sleeping. He kisses Scott’s hair and waits it out, wondering if Scott will talk. After a long, long silence, though, Carter begins to worry.

“Scott?” he asks softly. “You all right?”

“Yeah.”

“I know that was really... It felt really intense,” Carter says, tentative. He takes a breath and holds it, but Scott’s response takes a while to come.

“Was amazing,” Scott whispers.

Carter lets out his breath in a huge sigh, ruffling Scott’s hair where it tickles his mouth. “I’m... glad,” he says awkwardly. “This was good for us. I think... I think this can work for you--for us. You know? I think it helps you, right? And me too. I like that you needed me, you know?”

“Mmm,” Scott says, a happy-sounding hum that buzzes against Carter’s skin. Carter waits, but Scott just cuddles in closer, settling his head on Carter’s shoulder again.

Carter laughs softly. “Speechless, huh?” he teases, and something in him eases when he feels Scott smiling against him. For a while, he wasn’t sure if he was going to get Scott back tonight, back to some kind of awareness. “Wanna sleep?”

“Yes please,” Scott says, and Carter leans away just for a moment to retrieve a sheet from the floor and pull it over both of them. He hasn’t done any of his nightly routine, hasn’t even brushed his teeth, but nothing in the world could make him get up and leave Scott alone now. He falls asleep easily, sated, and when he wakes up, Scott’s still right there in his arms, warm and soft and wearing Carter’s marks on his throat like a badge of honor. He smiles and thinks that he never wants to wake up any other way.