Patrick was feeling quite cheerful by the time they got back to the flat. Satisfied that he’d come off best in their altercation in the snow, he was even feeling slightly sympathetic as Kyle bitched about his wet underwear and cold feet.

The flat was like an ice box, any warmth from the gas fire long gone. “I’ll light the fire. You can use the bathroom to change.”

“Into what?” Kyle glared. “You got my jeans soaked again and I don’t have any more clean underwear.”

“Turn a pair of dirty ones inside out.” Patrick grinned as Kyle rolled his eyes.

“Gross.”

While Kyle used the bathroom, Patrick lit the fire, and started to sort through the haphazard jumble of clothing spilling out of his case. In the hotel, he’d slept in boxers and a T-shirt. He hadn’t brought any pyjama bottoms with him, so those would have to do here as well.

Remembering that they’d be sharing the bed, Patrick’s heart sped up.

It had been a roller coaster of a day, but after the awkwardness of Kyle’s proposition earlier they’d recovered and had been on good terms during dinner. For the first time ever, Patrick had relaxed in Kyle’s company and started to see aspects of him that he truly liked. It was as though Kyle’s hard outer layer had faded away for a while and he’d let Patrick see a softer, more playful side. It had made Patrick start to wonder what else lay behind that brittle, defensive facade, and why it existed in the first place. Patrick had also begun to question whether he really was missing out by not taking Kyle up on his offer of sex. Would Kyle let his guard down in that situation too? And what would it look like if he did.

Those musings had been cut off abruptly by the sound of Kyle’s phone chiming with a Grindr notification. That was the wake-up call that reminded Patrick why getting involved with Kyle would be a bad idea. After almost a year of celibacy, Patrick still wasn’t ready to date. And when he was, he wanted to find guys who were looking for the same thing as him: commitment, connection, and trust. Kyle had made it very clear that he was only looking for a bit of fun.

Patrick shrugged out of his coat, and then took off his jumper and T-shirt. The back of his T-shirt was soaked from the snowball Kyle had aimed so perfectly. After hanging that over the back of a chair, Patrick was putting on a dry one when Kyle emerged from the bathroom. Dressed in a pair of bright red boxer briefs and his white T-shirt, he was carrying his jeans and Patrick’s fleece.

“Okay if I borrow this a little longer?” He held up the fleece.

“Sure.”

Kyle slipped into it and zipped it up. It hung off him, too big on his shoulders, and almost long enough to cover his boxers. It made him look disturbingly cute. Trying to shake that thought away, Patrick went to the kitchen. “I fancy a cup of tea. Do you want one?”

“Yes please.” Kyle went to sit on the sofa and turned the TV on. He flicked through the channels while Patrick made tea for them both.

“Do you take sugar?” Patrick asked, holding up a packet of sugar. “I don’t, but I bought some just in case.”

“No thanks,” Kyle said. “Tea with sugar is foul.”

They were in agreement about something for once.

“Absolutely.” Patrick wrinkled his nose, putting the packet back down on the counter. “Utterly disgusting.” He carried the mugs over and handed one to Kyle, and then put the other one down on the floor by the empty side of the sofa. “I’m just going for a pee.”

Patrick unzipped, and although he was pretty desperate to go, he found it hard to relax with the doorless doorway behind him. The sound of Kyle moving around put him off too, but then Kyle said, “These chocolate ginger biscuits look gorgeous.” Then Patrick heard the sound of channel hopping again. Reassured that Kyle was back in front of the TV, he was finally able to let go in a blissful stream.

Returning, he found Kyle curled up in one corner of the sofa, gaze fixed on the TV. He didn’t react as Patrick sat down at the other end of the sofa. Given that it was a two-seater there wasn’t much space between them, and Patrick felt awkward with Kyle’s bare legs close enough to touch. They were slim and toned, and dusted with blond hairs that glinted in the light.

Eager to distract himself from Kyle’s proximity, Patrick leant down to pick up his mug of tea and took a sip.

“Ugh!” He instinctively spat it out, spraying tea all over his lap. “What the hell?” Leaping up, he hurried to the sink, and rinsed his mouth with water to get rid of the disgusting taste. Only then did he realise that Kyle was pissing himself laughing.

“Oh, God! That was brilliant,” Kyle managed between snorts of laughter. “So I guess you don’t like salt in your tea either then?”

“You absolute wanker. What was that for?” Patrick demanded, outraged that anyone would ruin a perfect cup of tea by putting salt in it.

“For the snowball in the pants.”

“But you started it with the snowball down the neck.” Patrick wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That wasn’t deliberate. I only threw it at you. I didn’t shove it into your clothes.”

“The effect was the same.”

“Whatever. In the pants was definitely worse than down the neck. So now we’re even.” Sitting cross legged on the sofa in his underwear and Patrick’s fleece, Kyle grinned at him, obviously thrilled with his latest prank.

“God, you’re a brat sometimes.” Patrick’s anger was subsiding, but not gone yet. “You need a good spanking.” The words were out before he realised what he was saying. He flushed, ready to make excuses.

But Kyle’s grin vanished like a snowflake melting on someone’s palm and his eyes widened. A new, disturbing tension crackled between them, filling the room with possibility. “I dare you!” His expression was challenging and bright points of colour appeared on his cheeks.

“You’re kidding, right?” Heart hammering so hard he felt almost dizzy, Patrick stared at Kyle, trying to read his intentions.

“No.” The flush in Kyle’s cheeks spread.

Patrick raised his eyebrows, liquid heat flooding through him, and pooling in his groin. “You’re serious?” The words came out rough from his dry throat.

Kyle nodded, hand moving to his lap.

“Are you into that?” Patrick let his gaze slide down to where Kyle was squeezing his cock, visibly hard through his boxer briefs.

“Never tried it, but I’m into the idea of it. You want to try?”

All Patrick’s instincts were screaming at him that he should say no. He didn’t want to have sex with Kyle—well, on some levels he did because his dick was getting stiffer by the minute—but he knew that hooking up with Kyle would be a terrible life choice. Spanking would almost inevitably lead to sex, yet the idea of spanking Kyle was too tempting to resist.

“I’ve never tried it either. But… I think I want to.” Erection pressing against the front of his jeans. Patrick was definitely into the idea. He’d watched enough spanking porn to know it turned him on. He still wasn’t sure about the reality of doing it himself, but there was only one way to find out.

“Go on then.” Kyle sat waiting on the sofa, unusually passive for him. “How do you want to do this?”

The thrill of Kyle giving up control made Patrick’s heart race and his skin tingle. “Stand up.” Kyle stood obediently. His arms hung loose by his sides, but he had the look of an animal that might bolt at any minute.

“Are you warm enough to take that fleece off?” The gas heater had taken the chill off the room. Flushed with excitement, it was hard for Patrick to judge exactly how warm it was.

“Yeah.” Kyle unzipped it and slid it off his shoulders, and then tossed it over the arm of the sofa.

Patrick eyed him, considering his options. Over his lap had a certain appeal, but he wasn’t sure how comfortable it would be for either of them. As he hesitated he felt the control of this situation slipping away from him; he wanted it back.

“Kneel on the sofa, with your arms on the back of it.” Kyle moved swiftly, far more willing to follow Patrick’s instruction in this situation than he ever was in the office. “That’s perfect.”

Patrick stared admiringly. Kyle really did have a gorgeous arse and this position showed it off to perfection. Kneeling with his head bowed, arms braced on the back of the sofa, Kyle’s bottom was level with Patrick’s waist. Taut muscle curved gently, two perfect globes straining against the red stretchy material of his underwear. The bulge of his balls was just visible between his legs. Patrick’s cock throbbed and he reached down to adjust himself.

“Hurry up!” Kyle’s tone had a desperate quality.

Patrick was impatient to get started too, but he wasn’t going to let Kyle boss him around. “Who’s in charge here?” he asked sharply.

Kyle drew in a surprised breath, and then replied quietly, “You.”

“Exactly.” Patrick moved close and finally allowed himself to touch. Reaching out one hand, he ran his palm lightly over Kyle’s buttocks. “You’re already in trouble, and due a spanking. Don’t make it worse for yourself by being cheeky now.” He kept his voice stern, playing the role he sensed Kyle wanted from him.

“I’m sorry.”

In his normal voice, Patrick said quietly, “If you want to stop at any point, you say—okay?”

Kyle glanced over his shoulder and met Patrick’s eyes for a moment. “Okay.” He gave a quick nod, and then hung his head again.

Patrick hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Kyle’s underwear and tugged them down. Kyle’s butt cheeks were pale compared to the rest of him, and mostly hairless and smooth. With his knees close together his hole was tantalisingly hidden from view. Kyle kept absolutely still and the tension grew as Patrick took his time, palm tingling with anticipation. “Such a pretty arse. It seems almost a shame to smack it.”

A small huff of amusement was his only reply, but Patrick took it as encouragement. He moved his arm swiftly, palm making contact with a sharp crack that stung his hand.

Kyle gasped and flinched.

“Okay?” Patrick waited, arm extended, ready for more.

“Yeah.”

The second stroke was on the other cheek, and a little harder. Kyle took that without a sound, so Patrick delivered two more in quick succession. He paused, watching as bright pink marks bloomed on Kyle’s skin. The sight of them make Patrick’s dick ache. “That’s four. I think you deserve at least twenty for your behaviour. Can you take that many?”

“Yes.” No hesitation.

Patrick gave him six more, alternating cheeks, and trying to vary the placement a little. His goal was to paint Kyle’s arse cheeks pink all over. The last one, he slapped right in the middle across Kyle’s crack, and Kyle groaned loudly.

“You’re halfway done. Sure you can take more?” Dizzy with arousal, Patrick didn’t want to stop, but he would in a heartbeat if Kyle told him to.

“Yeah. I want more…. I know it’s supposed to be a punishment but it feels good.” Kyle was breathless. “My cock’s so hard.”

“Spread your legs,” Patrick ordered.

Kyle complied, widening his stance. His hole was pink and perfect, clenched tight. Patrick reached a hand between Kyle’s thighs, finding his cock—which was indeed very hard. “What a dirty boy you are.” Patrick stroked it lightly, and then slid his hand back to cup Kyle’s balls and squeeze them before letting go. “Such a little… deviant.” He gave Kyle two sharp slaps to emphasise the words, and then carried on, counting in his head until he got to eighteen before stopping. “Two more to go.”

“Please.”

Kyle pushed back towards him and Patrick gave him what he wanted, one on each cheek, before stopping. In the sudden silence, Patrick could feel his heart racing, and his stinging palm and swollen cock both throbbed in time with its beat.

“How did that feel?”

“Good. Painful. But good.” Kyle didn’t move.

Patrick put a gentle hand on his arse. “Wow, your skin is so hot. It feels like it’s on fire.”

Kyle gave a hoarse chuckle. “You’re telling me.” Patrick rubbed gently, trying to soothe away the pain, and Kyle made a sound of pleasure. “That feels nice. It’s so sensitive now.”

“What next?” Patrick was aching to fuck him, but even though Kyle was kneeling in front of him with his pants down, he wasn’t sure if sex was on the table.

“I think you should kiss it better.” Kyle looked over his shoulder with a suggestive smile. “If you want?”

Patrick dropped to his knees without hesitation. “Excellent idea.” He pressed his lips to Kyle’s skin, feeling the heat radiating from it, and breathing in the scent of him. He alternated kisses from cheek to cheek, gradually homing in on Kyle’s crack. When he reached the centre he kissed the skin behind Kyle’s balls, slowly edging his way upwards.

Kyle moaned. “Patrick, Please!” Hearing his name on Kyle’s lips, Patrick smiled and gave him what he wanted, licking delicately over his hole with teasing strokes while Kyle gasped. “Oh fuck. Yes.”

Self-control tested to the limit, Patrick carried on. The urge to get his cock out, to jerk off, to plunge it into Kyle’s pert little arse and fuck him into the middle of next week was almost overwhelming. Yet with the sounds Kyle made, and the scent and taste of him, this was almost a kind of satisfaction in itself after weeks of desire. To have Kyle here, on his knees, begging and moaning for Patrick was more than Patrick could ever have imagined. He couldn’t bear to rush it, to ruin it by asking for more than Kyle was prepared to give.

It was Kyle who finally moved things along by saying the words Patrick was hoping so desperately to hear. “Will you fuck me?” His voice was strained and desperate.

“Hmmm, let me think,” Patrick teased, replacing his mouth with a finger. “If I let you have my cock will you behave better afterwards?”

“Bastard.” Kyle glared at Patrick over his shoulder, and then hissed as Patrick slid his finger deep inside. “God that feels good.” Then he added, “Maybe?”

Patrick grinned, working his finger in and out. “At least you’re honest.”

“Come on, Patrick. Fuck me. You know you want to. You’ve wanted my arse for weeks.”

“True.” There was little point in denying it now.

“So it’s yours—for tonight at least.”

Patrick ignored the distant alarm bell those words provoked. He was too horny to question whether this was a good idea any more, the urge to fuck, to claim, to come was too strong. “Do you have any lube and condoms?” Patrick had been celibate for so long, it was a long time since he’d carried sex supplies around with him as a matter of course. But he figured Kyle would be the type to be prepared for anything.

“In my wash bag in the bathroom. Want me to get them?”

“Okay.” Patrick stood, withdrawing his finger, and giving Kyle a pat on the arse. “I’m a little overdressed anyway.” The heater was still pumping out warm air and he was sweating now.

Kyle kicked off his underwear and peeled his T-shirt off. Dropping them in a heap, he stood naked before Patrick, and let his gaze roam over him. “Yes you are, but it’s easily remedied. Strip. I’ll be back in a sec.”