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Bernard tosses his house key into the bowl on the stool next to the front door. He slipped off his shoes behind the makeshift table and shut the door with a soft nudge from his foot.
“I’m home!” he calls into the apartment, predictably with no response. He hums to himself as he shuffles to the kitchen, eager to drop the shopping bags on the counter and peel off his gloves. He’s been neglecting to get replacements for too long, and now they’re so tight that they cut off circulation at the wrist whenever he wears them for too long. And a trip to the local 7/11 was skirting on too damn long.
He groans softly as he shakes out his arms, finally free of the heavy load that had plagued them. The gloves come off immediately after, and he has to wriggle his fingers to get the blood flowing again.
He shrugs his coat off and throws it over the counter next to the bags. It was a little chilly in this part of the apartment, but he preferred it that way, even though it had snowed a week ago and they were about to enter winter proper. Bernard had always run a little warm.
That doesn’t negate the seasonal craving for a warm drink, so he decides to make himself a cup of hot chocolate. He doesn’t have the time to make it from scratch, even though he likes it better that way, so he resolves to use instant—with his own additions, of course. He wasn’t an animal.
It takes him fifteen minutes to make and another ten to polish off the drink. He nibbles on a couple of cookies he left wrapped on the counter. They were simple gingersnaps from the baking binge he had the previous weekend to celebrate the end of his finals.
He takes his time cleaning up the kitchen, washing up utensils and putting the snacks he’d bought away. Except for one bag, one of the smaller ones with a couple bottles of electrolyte water, granola bars and a handful of grape jelly cups—the tiny kind people made jello shots in. These were normal, though.
Just as he’s putting some more cookies on a plate, his phone buzzes in his back pocket. He doesn’t fish it out. There was no need; it was only an alarm. A precautionary measure, honestly, he couldn’t have lost track of time if he tried.
But it does get him moving. He shuffles out of the kitchen with a plate of cookies in one hand and the plastic bag in the other. He pads down the hall to his bedroom, pace unhurried but deliberate, still humming a nameless tune. As he gets closer to the door, he hears it, the soft, muffled moans and whimpers. The quiet whirring. Not the audio, though, the headphones were too good for that, though he wished he could.
Something other than the warmth of hot chocolate coalesces in his gut as he stops in front of his slightly ajar bedroom door. The sounds are louder now that he’s closer, and it makes his skin tingle with goosebumps. He fights the urge to fidget and schools his features, affecting an air of serenity and casualness.
Then, he steps inside.
The smell of sex hits him strongly upon entry. He inhales deeply of the musk, savouring it for a moment as he stands on the threshold of what promises to be a fun night.
He ignores the body on the bed, paying no heed to his writhing or muffled moans as he deposits his cargo onto a bedside table. He carefully arranges the items, lining up the bottles for easy reach, turning up those pesky little flaps that seal the jelly and fruit cup so it’s easy to rip off with his teeth. He even opens the granola bars and places them on the plate next to the cookies, not minding that they’d get a little soft. It’d make it easier for him to chew anyway.
With the spread assembled, Bernard begins to undress. He takes off his sweater and his jeans, leaving his body bare save for his underwear and his socks, the latter of which he toes off after a moment of consideration.
At last, he allows himself to focus on his boyfriend still writhing on his bed, gagged with Bernard’s lingerie, bound with silk cloth at the wrists and ankles, blindfolded and collared, with noise-cancelling headphones that have been playing the audio of a sex tape on loop over his ears. He’s sprawled on his side facing Bernard, his knees up high enough to hide his cock from clear view, but not high enough to stop Bernard from seeing the mess of fluid on his stomach.
Bernard plops down gently onto the bed. Tim senses the change immediately and jerks in his bonds, tilting his head towards the spot where Bernard’s weight depressed the bed. Bernard has to fend off a giggle as he reaches over to first slip the headphones off Tim’s head.
He picks up on the sound leaking from them immediately and flushes in recognition. It’s his own moans after all, softened by the low volume. If he had to guess, it was the point in the video when he’d come for the second time. The memory of it is fresh enough to send a tingle down his spine, as it was recorded only the day before.
“Hey, baby,” he says softly, setting the headphones down and crawling over to sit right above Tim’s still shuddering frame. Tim moans around the gag, tilting his head to seemingly stare into Bernard’s eyes despite the blind fold.
Bernard chuckles as he leans over and ghosts his fingers over his partner’s sweat-slick and flushed skin, from his shoulder to his flank to his ass, which, despite the awkward angle, he spreads to see the vibrating dildo whirring inside his hole.
Tim groans around the gag, hips bucking into the sheets when Bernard taps lightly against the base of the toy, turning off the vibration and pushing it in simultaneously. “Quit it,” Bernard chides softly, “I’m just checking on you.” He grasps the base of the toy and pulls it out slowly, maybe an inch or two.
Tim makes a choked off sound behind the gag, but wisely tamps down his urge to buck again. Bernard pats his ass check before gripping for leverage to spread him wider and then thrusts back in.
Something similar to a scream makes it past the gag somewhat, and Tim throws his head back so far it presses in Bernard’s stomach. He swats his boyfriend’s ass for that. “Behave,” he warns again, voice steady despite the hot roiling in his gut. He bites his lips against a giddy noise that threatens to escape when Tim lets out a muffled whine.
He repeats this process a couple of times, pulling the dildo out slowly before pushing it back in harshly to scrape against his boyfriend’s prostate. Tim jerks every time despite his best efforts, but Bernard doesn’t hold it against him. At least until he starts actively moving to meet Bernard’s thrusts.
“Oh?” Bernard, stalling his movements with the dildo fully inside Tim, traces his fingers over Tim’s muscular thigh. “You want to come again? I thought you would have had enough by now.”
Tim moans, craning his neck to not-quite look up at Bernard. Even with his eyes covered and his lips stretched around wet fabric, his pleading expression is quite obvious. Bernard allows himself a smile he knows his boyfriend can’t see.
He scrapes his nails down the man’s flank gently and grinds the dildo in further just enough to make him shudder. “Okay,” he says, soft as goosefeathers, “You can cum one more time.” He starts up the vibration again, the whirring sending tingles through his fingers. “Afterwards, you don’t get to cum again until I say so,” he slides out the toy, “No matter how much you want it,” and slams it back in.
Tim wails behind the gag, his ankles straining against his bindings, and he tries to thrash his legs. Bernard employs all the strength he possesses to remain unmoved by his partner’s jerking as he starts fucking the toy into him at a brutal pace. No slowing down, not faltering, just relentless thrusting that leaves his wrist aching in the best way.
He knows Tim is about to cum when the noises filtering past the gag are shorter and harsher sounds instead of longer and deeper moans. His grip on Tim's flesh tightens as the man climaxes, and he fights the urge to let out a grunt of his own. Fuck, he’s getting wet already.
He waits until Tim’s thighs start to tremble in overstimulation before pulling the toy out and switching it off. Now, the only sounds he registers are Tim’s panting and his own beating heart. He takes a few minutes to let both of them stew in the aftermath, petting Tim’s flank idly in silent comfort as he shimmies his hips to alleviate some of the discomfort of his underwear sticking to his sex.
“Roll over and sit up for me, puppy,” he tells Tim as he straightens up. As Tim adjusts, Bernard leans over the bed to grab a bottle of water.
Tim whines, dragging Bernard’s attention back to him and his plight. He’d managed to roll over just fine, his head comfortably in Bernard’s lap, but it was difficult for him to sit up, what with his loose limbs and bound ankles. Bernard, of course, knew this would happen and chuckles a little meanly, delighting in the way Tim’s already flushed face colours ever darker with humiliation.
“Aw, do you need help, baby?” Bernard teases, already wrapping his arms around Tim’s waist to hoist him up. Tim lets himself go limp with a soft sound, making it easier on Bernard’s comparatively slight frame.
With Tim’s warm back against his chest, Bernard trails his fingers down Tim’s torso, feeling him up and enjoying the way the man’s muscles twitch under his touch. His wrists were bound in front of him, and Bernard tapped the bunched-up cloth with a fingertip, pretending to contemplate whether or not he would untie his boyfriend. He wouldn’t, of course. Not yet, anyway.
“How are you feeling?” he asks mildly, letting his breath ghost over Tim’s ear. Predictably, he got an incomprehensible noise in return. He chuckled a bit. “Oh, right,” he says, “You can spit it out, now.”
Tim turns his head and coughs out the makeshift gag, spitting it somewhere near the edge of the bed.
“Thirsty,” is the first thing Tim utters in a hoarse voice.
“I bet you are.”
Bernard reaches for the bottle of water and cracks it open. He collects a decent amount and holds it there before tilting Tim’s mouth towards his, pressing his cheeks to force him to part his lips and then all but spitting the water down his boyfriend’s throat. He lets Tim guzzle it down greedily before sealing their lips in a messy kiss. Tim’s mouth is a little dry from the cloth soaking up his spit for over half an hour, but Bernard remedies that quickly with deliberate licks of his tongue. He can taste the barest hint of himself from the used lingerie.
He pulls away, amused by how Tim chases his lips, to get more water. Then he repeats the process again and again until the bottle is nearly empty. By then, Tim is squirming between his legs and Bernard’s neck tingles from the awkward angle.
When he pulls away for the final time, Tim’s normally pale, thin lips are swollen in blushing pink. Bernard can’t help but lean down again to bite the lower one, pulling it between his teeth. Tim makes a sound between a whine and a moan, and it does something unexplainable to Bernard’s sense of reason.
“Better?” He asks Tim, a little breathless as he pulls away.
The man replies with a dazed nod. Bernard’s hand smacks his flank for the transgression. “Yeah. Yes, I feel better,” Tim breathes out, quick to correct his mistake. His voice is still hoarse, though it seemed to have regained some strength. Bernard smiles at that. He’s going to enjoy making him lose his voice again.
“Good boy,” Bernard praises, moving a hand to pet his boyfriend’s stomach, not minding the stickiness he finds there. “I’m very proud of you,” he continues softly, “Lasting for as long as you did. You even had it in you to be a little greedy at the end,” he adds this with a playful lilt that turns the tips of Tim’s ears ruddy.
“You enjoyed it a lot, didn’t you? Liked having your fun.”
“I did. Thank you, Bernard.”
“You are very, very welcome,” Bernard hums, trailing his hand down just enough to brush against Tim’s flaccid cock. It twitches at that barest touch, and he tamps down the urge to grab it. There would be time for that.
“I’m glad I was able to do that for you. Now, could you do something for me? You think you can manage that?”
He can practically hear Tim’s nervous gulp. “Whatever you want. I can do it, Bernard.”
“That’s so sweet of you, puppy. I’m happy to hear it. What I want you to do is simple, really. Do you wanna try guessing? Try using that big brain of yours to figure it out?” It wasn’t a rhetorical question or a question at all. It wasn’t even a request. It was an order.
Tim flexed his wrists, probably fighting the urge to fiddle with his fingers or whatever other quirk he performed when putting his brain to use. He subtly sniffed the air, a largely theatrical gesture that both of them were aware of as such.
“I smell…food?” Tim prompts, slowly, acting perfectly as if he didn’t know exactly what was waiting for him. “You want me to, um, eat something, right?”
“That’s right,” Bernard says, ducking down to peck his boyfriend. “You’re so smart, puppy. I’ve prepared a few treats for you. You must be hungry, right?”
“A little,” Tim admits, sheepishly.
Bernard can’t help but affectionately squeeze the parts of his partner his hands are on at the moment; thigh and belly specifically. “Good, good. Well, I’ve split your food into two equivalent ‘courses’ if you will. Each of which is stuff I know you absolutely love having in your mouth. Could you tell me what they are?”
Tim shakes his head, hesitantly and once again Bernard is deeply enthused by his response. He smiles, a cheeky private thing, the trademark of someone delighted by their own cleverness.
“Aw, that’s a shame. But it’s ok, don’t worry. You’ll love both things. I need you to pick.” He lifts his hands from Tim’s body and balls them into fists on either side of the man’s bound wrists. “My hands are on either side of yours. Each one represents one option for your treat, and all you need to do is point in one direction. Can you do that for me on the count of three?”
It’s a completely fabricated process, of course. No matter which direction Tim pointed, they both knew what he'd be tasting first. Still, of course, his darling boyfriend played along and demurely pointed to Bernard’s left fist. He grinned widely and unfurled his hand to brush the side of Tim’s face, smearing the man’s own tacky ejaculate across the skin of his cheek.
He tilted his neck to kiss the other one. “Good choice, my love.” His lips brushed over the shell of Tim’s reddened ear. “You’re gonna eat me! Eat me out, that is.”
Tim physically shudders against him, his body practically vibrating as he chokes out, “Thank you, Bernard.”
“Of course, puppy.” Bernard pats his thigh, humming, evidently pleased by his reaction. “Now bring your legs up so I can untie your ankles.”
Tim does as he’s told, and Bernard relishes the feel of his muscled back against his chest as he leans into Tim to reach his legs. Bernard loves the way the black silk looks against his lover’s skin, stark yet unassuming. He’s glad for all the pictures he took now more than ever because seeing Tim as he was, bound and writhing, was a sight he hoped to never forget.
The knot is undone with a few quick tugs, and suddenly, Tim is free to move his legs apart. His pale skin is barely marred thanks to the fabric’s nature. Bernard kind of wishes it was, but neither of them was particularly keen on drawing questions or inferences, so they stuck with silk.
He massages the flesh of Tim’s ankles down to his feet. “Feels nice to be able to move them again, yeah?” he whispers, smiling.
“Yeah,” Tim replies, voice breathy, “It does, thank you, Bernard.”
“Good boy. Now get on your knees and face me.”
Bernard moved backwards until he was up against the mass of pillows at the head of his bed, allowing himself a lovely view of Tim getting up and wobbling on his knees like a fawn; the fragile visual was a devious contrast to his boyfriend’s usual practised confidence.
The view of Tim from below was, to be blunt, incredibly arousing. Tim, who was grace and competence and poise, was shivering on his knees, bound and collared for Bernard. Because of Bernard.
“Hands,” was all he had to say for Tim to present his wrists, eager and obedient.
He reached up to deftly undo the knot, slipping off the silk. He didn’t even have to ask before Tim was tucking his hands behind his back. Bernard laughed at that, a genuine bubbly thing that totally didn’t fit the mood.
“Oh, you’re eager,” he purred, trying to regain his composure as he redid Tim’s restraints behind his back. “That’s good. So you won’t mind begging for it then.”
Tim’s pretty mouth fell open in a small disbelieving O, and if Bernard had thought his boyfriend couldn’t get any more red, he was now proven incorrect.
“Go on,” Bernard smirked, “Beg for it, baby.
He allowed Tim another half-second of fumbling before he was gripping the man’s hair and pushing his head down to the mattress. Tim went down without so much as a whimper, smoothly positioning himself until he was eye-level with Bernard’s crotch, which was undoubtedly soaked by this point.
“Please.”
“What was that?” Bernard's grip on Tim’s hair strengthened, “Speak up, puppy.”
“Please, Bernard, I want to taste you.”
Bernard hummed and forcefully jerked Tim’s head up. “You can do better than that, can’t you? Beg for it.”
Tim visibly swallowed. He strained his neck to place a kiss on Bernard’s thigh. “Please,” a deep inhale, “Please let me,” a lingering press of the lips, “Taste you,” a daring kitten lick over Bernard’s underwear, “Bernard, I’m hungry,” a low moan, “Please put your cock in my mouth.” Even with the blindfold, Bernard could almost feel his boyfriend’s cool eyes on him, his gaze slicing through Bernard’s composure like a freshly sharpened blade.
Bernard let out a trembling sigh to mask the much more embarrassing noise that threatened to leave his throat. Fuck, that was better than I expected, he thought giddily.
He moved his hand to curl over the back of Tim’s neck, over the collar’s soft leather. The bright red collar that colored matched Tim’s flushed skin almost perfectly.
“Good boy,” he said, words a little wobbly, as he pushed Tim’s face more insistently to his covered sex. “Go ahead. You’ve earned it.”
Tim did not hesitate in licking a warm, wet stripe over the damp fabric covering Bernard’s cunt. He let out a deep groan when he did, and Bernard had to bite his lip to keep from whining.
His cock was already hard, straining against the fabric. Even without his sight, Tim zeroed in on that spot, nosing Bernard’s lips apart to suckle his dick and the wet cloth. Bernard tosses his head back with a strangled sound, his grip on the back of Tim’s neck weakening slightly as his body begins to tremor. Tim notices, because of course he does, and increases the suction power of his lips, flicking Bernard’s cock beneath the fabric with the tip of his tongue.
Bernard feels his whole body spasming, trickles of wetness leaking out of him and soaking the tacky cloth even further. He’s unable to hold back a moan when Tim redirects his attention to his hole, lapping at the influx of lubricant through the fabric and going as far as to press his tongue past Bernard’s entrance, pushing his underwear into it.
Bernard felt his mouth fall open in mute disbelief at the unique sensation of soft fabric propelled by an eager tongue scraping against the walls of his entrance. His thighs twitched to wrap around Tim’s neck to pull him closer, even as his hand still kept the man’s face firmly pressed into his crotch. And the sounds, god, the sounds; wet and sticky and desperate. It made him feel like his brain was melting, leaking out of his ears as his head lolled.
He couldn’t afford to lose himself, though, not completely.
“G-good boy,” he mustered up with a gasp, “So e-eager, huh? You’re doing so fucking well.”
Tim keened into his sex, the noise sopping and muffled by wet fabric. He pulled back as far as Bernard’s firm grip would let him, and in the low light, Bernard could see that half of his face was damp already, the bridge of his nose shiny with fluid. He wanted so badly to lick it off him.
Before the thought could fully form, though, Tim was ducking back down with his mouth open, shiny teeth latching onto the gusset of Bernard’s underwear and pulling it back before letting go so the fabric could snap back wetly against his flesh.
“Ah!” Bernard jolted. His fingers slipped under the collar around Tim’s neck and pulled back harshly. The cut-off gasp his boyfriend let out was satisfying in more ways than one.
“What do you think you’re doing? That’s not very nice, is it?” Bernard panted, his voice stern but carrying no real heat.
The corners of Tim’s mouth drooped anyway, like a chastised pet. The thought made Bernard smile just a little. He reached with the free hand that had previously been twisting in the sheets to cup Tim’s sticky chin.
“Tell me what you want.”
Tim nuzzled into Bernard’s palm and mumbled something intelligible. Bernard tugged the collar back again, eliciting another stifled gasp. Tim corrected himself accordingly when the pressure on his throat returned to normal.
“It’s not enough,” he croaked, “Can’t taste you properly like this.”
“Oh, poor baby,” Bernard mocked, digging his blunt nails into Tim’s cheeks, “Acting all hasty cause you can’t get enough. It’s okay,” Bernard continued as he let go of his boyfriend’s face and lowered his hand to his covered slit, pressing two fingers between his outer and ghosting over his drooling hole, sending shivers down his back at the contact. “All you had to do was ask,” he finished, and then he was pulling the gusset of his underwear to the side, exposing his warm flesh to the open air. He pushed Tim back down immediately after, the motion sudden enough that the man’s mouth was parted in surprise, perfectly poised to envelop Bernard’s sex directly.
He did whimper then, despite his best efforts, as Tim’s hot mouth made direct contact with his flushed inner folds. Bernard gasped as Tim began to frenetically eat his out, lapping at his sex and leaking hole with a ravenous energy that made him shake.
His thighs moved to squeeze around the man’s head, and his hand jerkily tugged at his collar, choking him slightly. Despite the suffocation, Tim didn’t stop; he barely even faltered. His tongue dug deep into Bernard’s hole, dexterously curving and curling against his walls, practically scooping the juices that seeped out of him by the mouthful.
“F-fuck, good boy,” Bernard absently praised, barely managing to string thoughts together, let alone words. The encouragement spurred Tim on further, and his tongue bored into Bernard faster than he thought possible, his nose digging into Bernard’s cock, and he took more and more from his leaking hole.
Bernard came on the spot when Tim’s tongue finally reached his poor aching cock. One harsh suck was all it took to send his hole spasming around nothing, and his throat forced out a noise that was too embarrassing even to try to describe.
His legs fall open, boneless. Overstimulation began to creep in quickly, and Tim showed no signs of stopping. Bernard’s body wasn’t much better; his hips still grinding upwards to meet every micro-movement of Tim’s tongue.
“That’s e-enough,” Bernard gasped out, vision refocusing enough. His stomach was cramping with oversensitivity, the muscles of his abdomen jumping at the slightest sensation in his gut. With a firm grip on Tim’s collar, he pulled his boyfriend back by the throat, a harsh movement that cut off his air supply and made him cough. “That’s enough,” Bernard repeated, panting. He let go of the collar and moved his hand to Tim’s hair, grasping strands in a strong hold to better manoeuvre the man’s head.
Tim was panting raggedly, his nostrils flared, and his face coated in fluid that caught the light, leaving his features glistening almost to the edge of the blindfold. He looked so pretty like this, it was ridiculous.
“Did you enjoy yourself, puppy?” Bernard prompted, voice smooth enough once again.
Tim whined and begged, “Please, can I, can I have more?”
“No,” Bernard tugged at his roots, causing a sharp hiss of pain. “I think you’ve had enough for one day. I have half the mind to deny you the rest if you insist on staying greedy.”
Tim shook his head. “No, no. I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.”
Bernard sighed fondly and used his free hand to wipe the stickiness around Tim’s mouth. “I know you will.” Then, still gripping his hair, he dragged the man up for a quick, sloppy kiss.
“Sit up for me, puppy,” Bernard said, letting go and patting Tim on the head. Tim sat up on his knees, taking the chance to flex his arms and shoulders as much as he could as Bernard leaned over to grab the food he had set out.
He placed the plate and other stuff off to his side, close enough to pick from one-handed. Then, he took off his underwear completely—no point in keeping the thing on—and gently repositioned Tim to sit between his legs once more. After redoing his bound wrists in front of him, of course.
“Comfy?” He asked, smiling as he patted Tim’s upper thighs soothingly. The man gave a small nod and an affirmative-sounding sigh. “Good boy.”
Bernard grabbed a cookie from the plate and bit off a sizable chunk. Then, he pressed his mouth to Tim’s and pushed the fragment of food past his teeth with his tongue, licking over Tim’s teeth in the process. He pulled back quickly, lest his advances excite Tim too much, and he choked.
Once Tim finished that, Bernard fed him a bit of a granola bar by hand and then washed it down with water that he transferred to Tim’s mouth much the same as the previous instance.
Everything Bernard put in his boyfriend’s mouth, he swallowed obediently, from cookie bits to crumbly granola to a globs of spit mixed with partially dissolved jelly. They finished another bottle of water as well, and not a single drop touched Tim’s tongue without first passing over Bernard’s.
Bernard has always enjoyed feeding his boyfriend, more conventionally, to be specific. Making him breakfast when they stayed over at each other’s apartments, pawning off the products of his stress-baking sessions and occasionally wiping up quick snacks for Tim to eat during particularly long patrols or stakeouts. It fueled his pride just as much as it fueled Tim’s body.
This was different, though. It stirred in him a sense of power and control that was as gratifying as it was unfamiliar. It was his fingers pushing food down Tim's throat, his tongue licking away the remnants in the corners of his mouth, his saliva that mixed with Tim’s water, sitting heavy in the man’s stomach and sustaining him just as well.
And Tim had no choice but to gladly swallow down everything Bernard gave him.
By the time the plate was almost empty and only most of one water bottle remained, Bernard was breathing as he’d been during cardio. One of his hands had its fingers pressed into Tim’s face, squeezing his cheeks so that his mouth was parted, revealing a pink tongue that was nearly lolled out. Bernard wasn’t sure he’d ever seen so few creases marring his partner’s face, a permanent reminder of the tension coiled in his body, which was now conspicuously absent.
Bernard was struck by the urge to kiss his boyfriend silly. So that’s exactly what he did. Tongue and teeth and spit until Bernard was leaning into the Tim so much that the man’s back dipped close to the mattress.
Bernard drew back, and a gasp bloomed in the new distance between their mouths. “Good?” He asked, not about any one specific occurrence, a little breathless himself.
Tim's response was to nod jerkily with a dazed hum that sent Bernard’s face splitting into a grin.
“Great, break time’s over then,” he breathed, coming back to himself quickly, “That’s enough pampering for one night. I need you on your front now, baby.” As he said this, he undid the binding at Tim’s wrist for the final time. This failed to elicit any reaction in his boyfriend, who was slumped against his chest, head lolling slightly against Bernard’s shoulder.
That wouldn’t do.
“Up,” Bernard ordered, smacking Tim’s thigh with controlled force. Tim whined. Whined. Despite the rush of blood from Bernard’s brain to places down below, he still wanted Tim to obey. And leniency wasn’t the name of the game tonight.
He threaded his fingers through Tim’s hair and pulled, drawing the man’s head up sharply and exposing the slim column of his throat as a pain noise burst from his lips.
“When I tell you to do something, it’s not a suggestion, baby,” Bernard whispered harshly, his other hand coming to curl around Tim’s throat and squeeze, “So unless you want me to bend you over and give you something to really fuss about, I suggest you pay attention. Clear?”
Tim nodded as best he could, given his circumstances, following the motion with a croaky “Yes, Bernard.”
Bernard pressed his lips to the side of Tim's throat and sucked, leaving a tiny love bite; a token of his appreciation. He released Tim’s neck. “Good boy. Now, on your front, ass up.”
When his fingers released their hold on the mop of black atop his boyfriend’s head, he wasted no time in complying, flopping forward on his stomach and lifting his hips. Bernard made a noise of approval and, because he was nice, fetched two pillows from behind him to place under Tim’s waist and head. The muffled “Thank you” he received in response earned Tim an affectionate pat on the flank.
Bernard set about getting himself ready. He took his time with it, shuffling languidly to the edge of the bed and reaching for the other bedside table. “Bernard,” his boyfriend called out, daring, “Please hurry.”
Bernard chuckled as he rose to his feet, device in hand. “Watch it,” he chided, more amused than anything.
He stared at the strap-on in his hands, dildo secured already, and couldn’t help his smile. Initially, he thought it’d be fun to get something more extreme, but Tim’s reactions to his first picks, while funny, had put things in perspective. In the end, Tim had picked for himself. A realistic five and a half inches with prominent veins and a fat head. Bernard had somehow convinced him to get the silicone dildo in deep red, so it matched Tim’s collar. Bernard considered it a win.
He slipped the harness on easily enough and made quick work of securing it. He’d tried it on a few times before just to get used to the feel, but it still managed to send a thrill up his spine, seeing the fake cock sticking out of his crotch.
Bernard climbs back onto the bed after hastily lathering his cock in lube and situates himself behind his boyfriend. God, he could stare at Tim like this all night and never get tired of it. His pale skin seemed perpetually flushed. The lightly colored markings that peppered his skin were wherever Bernard had given him significant attention. And the way he was positioned compounded that fact. The arch of Tim’s back. The tremble in his thighs. The subtle way he wiggled his hips, practically begging for it in. It riled Bernard up in a way he couldn’t possibly articulate and sent his sex moistening in the open air.
Bernard couldn’t wait to ruin him.
“Gorgeous,” he breathed, placing his hands on Tim’s waist and drawing him back, just a bit to grind his cock between his boyfriend’s cheeks. “You ready, puppy? Ready to cry for me?”
He gets a nod and a muffled, shuddering sound. He tightens his hold of Tim’s waist and moves one hand up the man’s spine, stretching his frame over Tim’s in the process, until his chin is tucked over Tim’s shoulder and his fingers are hooking under the collar, dragging his boyfriend’s head up by the throat.
He grinds his hips forcefully, thrusting the dildo between the globes of Tim’s ass. “What was that?” he hisses, voice light and menacing.
“Please,” Tim moans, “Please, I’m ready, hurry.”
“Good boy,” he whispers, his hand leaving Tim’s waist to line up the dildo, and then he’s thrusting forward, burying himself halfway into his boyfriend.
Tim gasps, the noise ragged from the pressure Bernard’s hold on the collar is still putting pressure on his throat.
“Look at you,” Bernard coos as he thrusts in all the way, punching another noise out of Tim as he releases the collar, “Still so soft inside. You wanted this from the beginning, huh? Greedy little thing. You’re shivering already. I can almost feel you clenching around me.”
Bernard pulls back about halfway before thrusting sharply. Again and again and again, establishing a quick rhythm that punched moans from Tim’s chest even as Bernard’s body weight smothered him.
“Good boy,” Bernard muttered into the sides of Tim’s throat, punctuating each word with an unforgiving thrust. Tim’s body yielded a low and raw sound when Bernard bit down on his shoulder and ground his hips at the same time.
“Bernard, Bernard, I’m gonna—“ Tim choked on his words, burying the rest of them in the pillow underneath.
“Nuh-uh,” Bernard bit out, a mocking smile on his lips as he reached under Tim’s arched form to grasp his cock, which had been bobbing and dragging against the sheets, leaking pathetically. Bernard squeezed the base callously, uncaring of the jolted cry that left his boyfriend’s lips. He slowed his movements to a torturous grind against the spot that affected Tim the most.
“Remember what you promised, puppy? You don’t get to cum until I say so.”
“Please, please, please—!”
Bernard sheathed his cock in one precise thrust. “No.”
His fingers remained a tight ring around Tim’s cock, preventing him from letting go, keeping him just on the edge, no matter his begging or his desperation.
Tim heaved a terrifyingly gratifying sound, one that felt like utter submission. Bernard felt his gladness in his cock.
He let go of the man’s prick to grab Tim’s arm and twist it, forcing his boyfriend to flip over with his cock a half-pump inside him.
He can almost see Tim’s eyes rolling under the blindfold, the skin of his forehead jumping with each shout that he lets. Bernard layers himself over him again, burying his face in Tim's chest to kiss and bite his flesh.
“Bernard, I need to—I need to—.” Tim’s hands move to weakly clutch Bernard’s arms, but he doesn’t budge on his grip on the man’s cock. If anything, he tightens his hold to an almost painful pressure, a sensation that drives Tim to arch into him despite Bernard’s torment.
“Take it, take it,” he whispers, frenetic as his continues to pound forward, carving a space just for him into his lover’s body, “You can do baby, just a little more.”
He reaches up to caress Tim’s face only to hook his fingers beneath the blindfold and finally, finally pull it off. Tim's eyes are wide and red and streaming with tears.
Something inside Bernard bursts, and he gasps alongside his boyfriend. The “I love you” is punched out of his chest like a sinner's confession. He crashed his lips into Tim's, shoving saliva and ecstatic triumph down his partner's throat with a restless tongue.
Tim's cock jolts as Bernard starts pumping in time with his thrusts. He can feel himself faltering, his strokes becoming less coordinated as he loses himself to Tim's beauty and warmth and perfection.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he chokes out, half laughing in the milliseconds that their lips are not locked.
With a sharp cry, Tim spills sticky warmth into Bernard's hand, tears dripping into his hair as he arches into Bernard’s body.
Bernard slows his hips to a glacial grind before pulling out just as slowly, savouring the sight of his boyfriend trembling through the aftershocks of a well-earned climax. Their breaths mix as they pant, spent and glowing with waning pleasure.
“Oh, fuck,” Tim groans, blinking open eyes he’d squeezed shut. Bernard watches the saltwater glint in his long lashes for a moment before Tim’s arms wrap around him and drag him to lie on the man’s chest.
Bernard goes boneless immediately, panting against Tim’s chest like he just ran a sprint.
“Not bad for your first time,” Tim whispers after a stretch of silence, carding fingers softly through the hair sticking to the back of Bernard’s neck.
“Shut up,” Bernard whispers back, voice weighted with too many feelings to name. “You were perfect.”
Tim huffs, dismissing the praise.
“I mean it, Tim. You’re amazing.” Bernard presses a long kiss to the side of his boyfriend’s jaw, teeth grazing skin in an affectionate nip.
The arms around him tighten, and Bernard feels Tim’s dick twitch between them.
“I…surprised myself a little,” Tim admits, averting his eyes in a weak attempt to hide his flush. Already a far cry from the man who cried openly as Bernard fucked him hard and fast.
Bernard hummed, tracing a finger through the space between Tim’s pecs. “How so?”
“Dunno, it just felt like I lost myself a little for like a minute.”
“Oh. Like subspace?” Bernard’s eyes widened a little at the realisation. He knew the exact moment Tim was describing. “Fuck,” he met Tim’s eyes, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t supposed to be mean then. Are you okay?”
Tim hand moved up to ruffle the crown of his head. “I’m okay, I swear. It felt good overall.”
Bernard moved to sit up, still feeling the sting of guilt. “Still, I messed up. I’ll do better next time.”
Tim smiled up at him, pretty blue eyes crinkling with the motion. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Bernard honestly could have spent more time cuddling, but he knew how gross Tim must be feeling, even if he wouldn’t say anything. He allowed himself one more peck before getting to work, almost forgetting to take off the strap.
Tim tried to follow after him, but the moment he tried to put weight on his feet, he trembled. The only thing that kept him from slumping to the floor was his quick reflexes.
“Stay put,” Bernard told Tim, half-laughing, much to the man’s mortification, as he slipped out of the room.
He returned with damp towels a few minutes later after running a bath in the bathroom. Tim’s fingers were around his neck, unclasping the collar and pulling it off to toss onto the bed unceremoniously.
“I can do it,” Tim said, trying to take the wet cloth from Bernard’s hands as he squatted at the foot of the bed, trying to wipe him down. Bernard got up and kissed him just to shut him up and then returned to the task at hand.
There was no way Bernard was going to be able to carry Tim. He still made a vague motion to try, but it was very obvious when Tim was holding back his laughter.
Somehow, they made it to the bathroom with Bernard’s dignity still intact.
Bernard’s original plan was to help Tim into the bath, then take a quick shower and return to the room to change the sheets and tidy up. This was not what happened.
“Join me?” Tim implored, tugging at Bernard’s arm with a slick hand.
“The shower’s faster, and I need to change the sheets,” he tried to insist, the excuse weak and wobbly on his lips. He already folded the moment Tim widened his eyes, all innocent like he didn’t know exactly what he was doing.
Half the time, they spent washing off and the other half Bernard spent hunched over, clinging to his boyfriend’s wet shoulders as Tim’s fingers curled skillfully inside him, bringing Bernard to the brink again and again to ‘make them even’.
Needless to say, their roles were reversed when they extricated themselves from the lukewarm water.
They cleaned up together. Admittedly, it went a lot faster when two sluggish people tackled the mess rather than one.
When all was said and done, Bernard stared at the newly made bed, seriously considering the merit of just…collapsing and not getting up until morning. Unfortunately, he was kind of hungry, and he’d promised himself that he’d make dinner. Tim, at least, deserved it.
So with a sigh, he dragged himself to the kitchen to whip up something quickly. Tim appeared from the laundry room sometime later, hovering by the kitchen island until Bernard beckoned him over with a spoonful of food to taste.
It was some sort of hodge-podge pasta dish with enough veggies and protein that he could comfortably write it off as nutritious, even though he’d pretty much just thrown a bunch of ingredients on top of half a bag of penne.
“It tastes good,” Tim said, chewing slowly.
“You always say that.”
“'Cause it’s always good.”
“Except when it isn’t,” Bernard corrected with a self-deprecating smile, elbow propping his body on the counter as he watched his boyfriend.
“Then it’s at least edible,” Tim amended, with a shrug. Bernard snorted, the noise drawn out as easily from him.
They had dinner in the living room with some random movie playing on TV. Bernard was fairly certain it was some fantasy romcom, but he was half-asleep and barely fighting the urge to faceplant into his food.
He did have the wherewithal to watch Tim eat, though. It still elicited a kind of warm possessive pride seeing his boyfriend eat the food he made, but it was a decidedly…softer feeling compared to what he experienced earlier.
Bernard’s empty plate clinked onto the coffee table next to Tim’s. He stretched his arms above his head before allowing himself to go limp against Tim, eventually sliding down until his head was in Tim’s lap. His boyfriend’s hand made its way to his hair, carding through it in a gentle rhythm.
Bernard blinks at the TV once, maybe twice, and all of a sudden the credits are rolling. He shifts a little to look up at Tim, catching the man’s gaze as it’s already locked onto him.
“I love you,” he mutters, only half audible as his eyes slip closed yet again.
The next time he opens them, he’s looking at Tim again, only this time, they’re in bed with the comforter pulled up to their chest. “I love you too,” Tim whispers back, his breath fanning over the bridge of Bernard’s nose, voice rumbly with grogginess.
Bernard’s lips split into a tired smile, and he cuddles closer to his lover, slipping arms underneath Tim’s shirt to feel the warmth of his skin and the absence of tension in the muscles beneath them. He tucks his head into Tim’s chest, comfortable in his contentment as he drifts off for the final time.